A 55020 3
Tappan Presbyterian Association
LIBRARY
Presented by HON. D. BETHUNE DUFFIELD,
From Library of Rev. Geo. Duffield, D.D.
DEO REIPUBLICÆ ET AMICIS
Gorge Duffield A. M
In tali nunquam lassat venatio sylva.
A.D.1884.
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$
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1793
1426.
:
A TREATISE
1420
OF THE
DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL
AND
ETERNAL.
Compofed in SPANISH,
BY
USEBIUS NIEREM BERG, S. J.
Tranflated into ENGLISH,
By Sir VIVIAN MULLINEAUX, Knight.
And fince Revifed and Corrected, according to
the laſt Spanish EDITION.
Permiflu Superiorum.
DUBLIN:
Printed by PETER HOEY, at the Mercury,
(No 33) UPPER ORMOND-QUAY; and
RICHARD CROSS, (N° 28) BRIDGE-STREET.
《》
MDCCXCIII.
?
Jest
THE FIRST BOOK
OF THE
越
​DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL and ETERNAL.
CA P. 1.
Our Ignorance of what are the true Goods: and not only
of things Eternal, but Temporal.
T
O uſe things a-right, we ought first to know their
Value and Eftimation; and we cannot give them
their true value, unless we know their nature, and
what they are; which knowledge is in this world fo fhort
and imperfe&, that it paffes not beyond worldly things,_nor
enters into the confideration of things Heavenly and Eter-
nal, for which we were created. And it is no wonder, that
in matters of Eternity, being ſo far removed from our ſenſes,
we know fo little, fince we are ignorant even in Temporat
things, which we fee, and daily touch with our hands.
How can we comprehend the things of the other world,
when we know not thoſe of this wherein we are: and even
to that ftupidity, can humane ignorance arrive, that we
know not what we prefume to be bett acquainted with, the
riches, commodities, honours and goods of this world, with
which mortal Men fo much converfe, and which they fo
much covet; for that they covet them, becauſe they know
them not.
A 2
Good
4
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
Good reafon had St. Peter when he taught St. Clement (a)
the Roman, that the world was like a houfe filled with fmoke
wherein nothing could be ſeen, either within or without, the
Imoke hindering the diftin&t fight of both. After the fame
manner it happens unto thoſe who live in this world; they
neither know what is without it, nor what within it; they
neither know the greatnefs of what is eternal, nor the bafe-
nefs of what is temporal; and being ignorant of both for
want of knowledge mistake their value, giving what is due
unto one, unto the other; making that fmall account of
things heavenly and eternal, which they ought to do of
things fading and tranfitory, judging fo contrary unto truth,
that as St. Gregory notes (b); they take the banishment of
this life for their home, the darknefs of human wisdom for
light, and this wandering peregrination here for their reft
and abode; all which proceeds from ignorance of the truth,
and the mall confideration of what is eternal; in fuch man
ner as they qualify what is good with the name of bad, and
what is bad with the name of good; by reaſon of which
confufion in humane judgment, David afked of the Lord,
that he would give him a Mafter who might inftru&t him,
which is the true good, faying, Who shall teach us what is
good?
The world is therefore ignorant of all things, even of its
own proper goods, which it most enjoys; it faring with us,
as it did with the children of Ifrael, who having Manna in
their fight, and holding it in their hands, yet knew it not,
but demanded, What is this? but unto us even that curio-
fity is wanting we enquire not ſo much as what theſe rich-
es are, for which mortal Man hazards ſo many dangers of
death; what honours are for which Men's hearts burſt with
envy and ambition? what pleafures are, for which we en-
danger our health, and often lofe our lives? what the goods
of the earth are, which are only enjoyed during cur pilgri
mage in the exile of this life, and are to vanish at the en-
trance of the other, as Manna did at the entrance of the
Land of Promile? With reafon did Chrift our Redeemer in
the Apocalyps call it the hidden Manna, becauſe the He-
brews holding it in their hands, knew not what it was: even
fo are the things of this life hidden unto our underſtandings,
which although we touch, we know not: and fo confound-
(a) Clem. Roman. in Epit.
(b) Lib. 8. moral. c. 12.
ing
CAP. I.
5
the Temporal and Eternal.
ing their value, do that for things temporal, which we only
ought to do for the eternal, undervaluing thefe for the ef
teem of thofe, which for themſelves are worthy to be deſpiſed
and contemned.
Hence failing in the knowledge of things, we fail in their
eftimation, and confequently in their ufe.
'That which hap-
pens in this, may be like wife feen in thofe, who did eat the
Manna; for unto them it caufed a loathing, and procured
vomit ; unto others it taſted pleaſfantly, and like the meat
they most defired. So great difference is there betwixt the
good and ill uſe of things: and the good ufe of all depends
upon their knowledge.
Let mortal Men therefore awake and open their eyes, and
let them know the difference betwixt what is temporal and
eternal, that they may give to every thing its due eſtimation,
defpifing that which time makes an end of, and efteeming
that which eternity preferves; the which they ought to feck
during this life, and by theſe momentary things purchaſe
the eternal, unto which they cannot attain without the
knowledge both of the one and the other; becauſe aiming
at the eternal as that of greateft value, they conferve the
temporal, although of itſelf of no worth, and that which is
corruptible and tranfitory, they render firm and durable.
The Manna which our Lord gave unto the Hebrews
whilst they wandered in the Defert, and was to ferve them
until their arrival in the Land of Promife, amongst other
myfterious fignifications which it contained, one was to be a
Symbol of the bleffings which we enjoy in the peregrination
of this life, until we come to the promifed land of eternal
happiness. For this caufe it putrified and corrupted fudden.
ly, lafting but a very short time, as all things of this world
do, only that part of Manna, which was gathered with in-
tention to keep for the Sabbath, which was a figure of glory,
or to preſerve in the Ark to be carried into the Land of Pro-
mife, corrupted not, in fo much as gathering the lame thing
with different refpe&ts, made that, which in itſelf was cor
ruptible, to be of a condition eternal, as is well noted by
Baldwin (c) an ancient Doctor, and a moit learned Inter-
preter of the holy Scripture. So much it imports to have
our intentions elevated and placed upon eternity, as by the
uſe of temporal and tranfitory things we may gain eternal,
converting
(c) Bald. apud Tibra. in Exod. 15.
6
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
converting ſmall things into great, mutable into immutable,
and mortal into immortal.
Some Philofophers, who confidered better the things of
this life, although without attention unto the eternal, found
in them many defects; the which the moft wife Emperor
and Philofopher Aurelius Antoninus (d) reduced unto three,
to wit, that they are little, mutable and corruptible, even
until they arrive unto their end; all which we fhall find re-
preſented to the life in Manna. The littleness of it was ſuch
faith the holy Scripture, that it was ſmall, like that which is
brayed in a Mortar, and reduced into powder; the mutabi-
lity was fo notable, that carrying it from the field where it
was gathered into their Tents, if they brought a quintal (e),
it fhrunk and contracted itſelf into the ſmall meaſure of a
gomer; with fome it diminished, and with others fwelled
and dilated itſelf into a greater proportion. The corruption
of it was ſo ſudden, that it lafted not one day without being
putrified and filled with worms; and yet notwithſtanding all
thefe qualities, the enjoying and eating of it coft most toil
and labour, firſt in gathering, then grinding, then in cook-
ing, and performing many other duties requifite for the ufe
of it. After the fame manner the goods of this life, not-
withſtanding all their faults and evil conditions, are not ob-
tained, nor enjoyed without much travel and vexation.
After this all did not enjoy that quality proper to the Man-
na, which was to tafte like unto that, which he that eat it
most defired; for finners found this taſte limited, and not ſo
tull and ſavory as others. Even fo we with our vices alter
and diminiſh the natural fweetneſs of the things of this life,
as we ſhall fee hereafter in its due place.
rent.
It is true that the appearance of it was good, for as the 70
Interpreters fay (f), it was like Chriſtal, clear and tranſpa-
The fame is the condition of the goods of this life,
they have the fplendor and an appearance, but are really
more brittle than glaſs; they are variable, fading, and in-
conftant, and fubject to a thouſand alterations; they are
corruptible, tranfitory and mortal, and only by reason of
their glittering we feek after them, as after things great and
eternal.
(d) In vita fua.
(e) Vi. Bonfrerium in Exod. 16.
Let
(f) Sept. Interp. in cap. 11. Nume. fpecies illus fpecies
chryftalli.
CAP. E
7
the Temporal and Eternal.
Let us leave the appearance and painted fuperficies of
things, and look upon their fubftance and truth, and we
fhall find that what is temporal is fmall, and what eternal is
great; the temporal inconftant, the eternal firm; the tem-
poral ſhort and temporal, the eternal durable, and in fine
eternal: This only were enough to make it more eſteemed
than the temporal, although the temporal in all other re-
fpects did exceed it; but the one being fo fhort and muta-
ble, and the other great, firm and conftant, the difference
betwixt them can be no lefs, than as St. Gregory eſteemed
it (g), who fays; "Immenfe is that which fhail follow
"without limit, and little is all that which ends." The-
fame Saint notes, that the fmall knowledge and memory of
eternity is the main cauſe of the deceiving of mankind, who
have in eſteem the falfe goods of this life, and undervalue
fpiritual and eternal of the other; and therefore ſpeaks in
this manner (h): "The thoughts of the predeftinated al-
"ways have their intentions placed upon eternity, although
"they poffefs great felicity in this life, and although they
"be not in danger of death, yet ever look upon it as pre-
"fent: To the contrary do obftinate Souls, who love this
temporary life, as a thing permanent, beeaufe they con-
"fider not how great is the eternity of that which is to
"come; and not confidering the folidity of the eternal,
"they judge this banishment for their Country, this Dark-
"nefs for Light, and this Race for their Station; for thoſe
"who know not greater matters, are not able to judge of
"the ſmalleſt." We therefore will begin to draw the Cur-
tain, and from the confideration of eternity, and the loofe
condition of time, difcover the distance betwixt the goods of
heaven and thofe of earth; from whence we fhall come to
handle the bafeneſs of the temporal, and greatness of the
eternal. For as a Philofopher faid of light, that there was
nothing more clear, nor nothing more obfcure: the fame
may be faid of time and eternity, which being held no leſs
perfpicuous, are ill underſtood, and are no lefs obfcure and
dark than the other. But we ſhall endeavour to make them
more intelligible, being affifted by the light of Faith, the
doctrine of Saints, and wildom of the Philofophers.
(g) Lib. 7. moral, c. 12.
(h) Lib. 8. moral, c. 12.
CAP.
8
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
CA P. II.
How efficacious is the confideration of Eternity for the change
of our Lives.
THE
HE thought of eternity St. Augußine (1) calls a great
thought, becaufe the memory of it is of great joy unto
the Saints, and no lefs horror unto Sinners, and unto both
of much profit and concern: It cauſes us to do great matters
and fhews the fmallneſs of the fading and tranfitory things
of this earth. I will therefore from this light begin to diſco-
ver the large field of the poverty, deceit and bafeneſs of the
temporal, and recommend the confideration of the eternal,
which we ought ftill to have in our thoughts, as David had
perpetually in his; in whom whilft he was a Sinner, it
caufed horror and confufion, and being a Saint, it comforted
and encouraged him to be yet more wholly, drawing from
this meditation moft fpiritual and incomparable profit unto
his Soul; and therefore in his Pfalms he fo often repeats
the memory of it, not only in the body of them but almoſt
in every paffage, faying, for ever, or eternally, or world
without end: there being no infcription or title which he
ufes more frequently than this, against the end, or in the
end, becauſe he compofed thein with the confideration of
eternity, which follows the end of this life; and for more
clearneſs adds in fome of them, against the end: for the
Octave; which according to St. Augustine fignifies eternity,
that being the octave; after the feven days of the week, into
which all time is to be refolved, which feven days being paſt
there are to be no more weeks, but, as St. Peter fays, one
only day of perpetual eternity.
In this eternity therefore did the prophet employ his
thoughts by day, and his meditations by night; this forced
him to fend up his voice unto Heaven, and to cry out unto
God; this made him mute, and took away his fpeech with
men; this aftoniſhed him and made his pulfes fail with the
confideration of it; this affrighted him, and mingled worm-
wood with the pleafures of this life; this made him know
(i) Auguſ, in Pfal. 76. Magna cogit.
the
CA P. II
9
the Temporal and Eternal.
the littleness of all that is temporal, and made him enter
within himſelf, and examine his confcience: Finally, this
brought him to a most miraculous change of life, beginning
to ferve the Lord with more fervor; all which effe&s pro-
ceeding from the thoughts of eternity, are apparent in the
76 Pfalm; therefore fays he amongst other things, Mine
eyes prevented the watches, 1 troubled myself and fpake not:
Immediately after he gives the reaſon, faying, I thought up-
on the days of old, and bud in my thoughts the years of eter-
nity, and meditated on them by night with my heart. This
thought was the occafion of his long watches; on this he
meditated before the Sun was rifen, and on this many hours
after it was fet, and that with fo great afton fhment of what
eternity was, that as himſelf affirms, his fpirit failed him,
and he trembled with the fively apprehenfion of what it was,
either to perish eternally in Hell, or to enjoy a bleſſedneſs for
ever in Heaven. And it is no marvel that this great thought
of eternity ſhould make fo holy a King to tremble, when as
the Prophet Abacuch ſays, the higheſt hills of the world bow
down and quake at the ways of eternity. The holy youth
Jofaphat (k) at the reprefentation of eternity, Hell being
placed on one fide, and Heaven on the other, remained
aftoniſhed and without ftrength, not being able to raiſe him-`
felf in his bed, as if he had been afflicted with fome mortal
fickneſs.
The Philofophers more barbarous, and who had lefs light,
were yet daunted with the thought of it, and in their Sym-
bols made choice of things of the greateft of terror to exprefs
it fome painted it in the form of a Bafilifk, a Serpent the
moft terrible of all others who kills with only his fight; there
being nothing of more horror, than that eternity or tor-
ments, whereinto we are fubject to fall. Conformable to
this, St. John Damafcen reprefented eternal duration under
the figure of a fierce Dragon, which from a deep pit lay
waiting with open jaws to fwallow men alive. Others figu-
red it by a horrible and profound Cavern, which at the en-
trance had four degrees, one of iron, another of brafs, the
third of filver, and the laſt of gold, upon which many little
children of different fexes and ages flood playing and paf-
fing away the time, without regarding the danger of falling
into that bottomlefs dungeon. This fhadow they framed
B
(k) Damaf, in vita ejus.
not
10
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
་
not only to fet forth how worthy eternity was of their fear
and amazement, but also to exprefs their amazement at the
folly of men, who laugh and entertain themfeives with the
things of this life, without remembering that they are to
die, and may then fall into the bottomlefs abyss of Hell.
Thoſe children who were playing at the entrance of that
difmal cave, being no other than men in this life, whofe
employments are but thofe of children, and who being fo
near their death, and therefore unto eternity which fucceeds
it, have neither fear nor care to leave the pleaſures and vain
entertainments of this world. Truly it is a thing of great
amazement, that being in expectation of two fuch extreams
as are eternal glory, and torments without end, we live as if
there were neither. The reafon is, becauſe men fet not
themſelves feriously to confider what eternity is, which is
either Hell whilft God is God, or glory without end. For
this cauſe it is, that they remain as fettled and obftinate in
their fading pleaſures, as if they were immortal: which was
fignified by thefe degrees of fo hard mettals. But in David,
who feriouſly meditated and framed a lively conception what
the eternity of years was, it caufed fo great a fear, and ſo
awaked his fpirits with care and diligence, that it produced
in him an extraordinary change of life: in fo much as he
faid with great refolution within himfelf, Now I begin. This
is a change from the right-hand of the most bigb.
" Now
"I begin, as Dionifius explains it (1), to live fpiritually, to
"underſtand wifely, to know truly, perceiving the vanity of
"this prefent world, and felicity of the future, reputing as
"nothing all my paft life, and all the progrefs I have hi-
"therto made in perfection. I will henceforth ſeriouſly
"take to heart with a new purpoſe, a new fervour, and a
more vehement endeavour the paths of a better life, and
"entering the way of fpiritual profit begin every day afrefh."
And becauſe he knew his heart to be fo much changed, he
confeffed his refolution to be miraculous, faying, This
change is from the band of the most high; as if he had faid,
according to the fame Dionifus, to have in this fort changed
me out of the darkneſs of ignorance into the fplendor of
wiſdom, from vices unto virtues, from a carnal man unto a
fpiritual, is only to be attributed to the aid and moſt merci-
ful affiſtance of God, who by the knowledge of eternity hath
given
(1) Coment, in Pfal. 76.
CAP. II.
IT
the Temporal and Eternal.
given ſo notable a converfion unto my heart. This great
thought of eternity doth mightily enlighten the underſtand-
mg, and gives us a true and perfect knowledge of things as
they are. For this cauſe in the title of fome of the Pfalms
which David made with this confideration, as we have al-
ready faid, he added this word (m) understanding, or for the
understanding, that is, to give understanding to thofe, who
meditate upon the end of this life, and the eternity of the
other, and therefore defpife the goods of the world.
By the experience of what happened unto his own Soul,
the Prophet exhorts all men, that they meditate with quiet-
nefs and leisure upon the eternity of the two fo oppofite con-
ditions which hereafter expe&t them, that they may not only
run, but fly unto it with profit, and fuffer with patience all
the difficulty which attends upon virtue: and therefore with
great mystery promifes on the part of God unto thofe, who
thall fleep between the two lots, that is, unto thoſe, who in
the quietness of prayer ſhall meditate upon the eternity of
glory, and of hell, that there fhall be granted unto them the
filver wings of the Dove, (a bird of the fwiftest flight) and
her ſhoulders of gold, becauſe the fpiritual life confifts not
only in the actions of our own good works, but alſo in the
patient fuffering the evil works of others; in lifting up our-
felves from the dirt of this earth and flying towards Heaven,
by performing heroical and precious acts of virtue, and not
yielding unto the troubles and afflictions of this life which
opprefs us. All which is by a lively conception of eternity
effected with great merit and perfection; and for this reaſon
did the Prophet exprefs it by the fimilitude of those things
which men efteem the most precious, as of gold and filver.
But becauſe to ſuffer is commonly more difficult than to do,
and confequently more meritorious, although both be very
precious, for this cauſe he faid that the ſhoulders fhould be
of gold, and the wings of filver. This alfo did the Patriarch
Jacob hold for fo fingular a good, that he gave it unto his
ion Ifachar for a bleffing, telling him that he ſhould lie down
betwixt the two borders, that is, that he ſhould at leiſure
meditate upon the two extreams of happineſs or mifery eter-
nal. For this reafon he calleth him a ftrong beaſt, as hav-
ing the ftrength of mind to overcome the difficulty of virtue
to fupport the troubles and burdens of this life, to fuffer the
fcorns and difgraces of the world, to undergo great penan-
B 2
(m) Pfalm 6.
CCS
12
LIB. I.
The Difference betmixt
ces and mortifications, by confidering the two eternal ex-
treams which attend us.
And not only amongst Saints, but amongst the Philofo-
phers, did the quiet and calm confideration of eternity pro-
duce a great love and defire of things eternal, and as great
contempt of all which was temporal, even without looking
upon thoſe two fo different extreams, which chriftian religi
on propoſes unto us. Seneca complained much, that he was
interrupted in the meditation of eternity, into which he was
wholly abforbed, his fenfes fufpended, and tied up as it were
in a fweet fleep, by the content which he received from that
confideration." I delighted myſelf, fays he, amongſt other
"things to enquire into the eternity of Souls, and believing
"it as a thing affuredly true, I delivered up myſelf wholly
over unto fo great a hope, and I was now weary of my-
"felf, and defpifed all that remained of age, though with
"perfect and entire health, that I might pafs into that im-
"menfe time, and into the poffeffion of an eternal world."
So much could the confideration of eternity work in this
Philofopher, that it made him defpife the most precious of
temporal things, which is life. Certainly amongſt chriftians
it ought to produce a greater effect, fince they not only
know that they are to live eternally, but that they are either
to rejoice, or fuffer eternally according to their works and
life.
1
网
​CA P. III.
The Memory of Eternity is of itself more efficacious than
that of Death.
A
ND therefore it fhall much import us to frame a
lively conception of eternity, and having once framed
it, to retain it in continual memory, which of itſelf is more
efficacious than that of death; for although both the one
and the other be very profitable, yet that of eternity is far
more generous, ſtrong and fruitful of good works: for by it
Virgins have preferved their purity, Anchorites performed
their auftere penances, and Martyrs fuffered their torments,
who
CAP. UL
13
the Temporal and Eternal.
who were not comforted and encouraged in their pains by
the fear of death, but by the holy reverence and hope of
eternity, and the love of God. It is true, the Philofophers,
who hoped not for the immortality of the other life as we
do, yet with the memory of death retired themſelves from
the vanity of the world, defpifed its greatnefs, compofed
their actions, and ordered their lives according to the rules
of reason and virtue. Epictetus (n) advifes us always to
have death in our minds; fo (fays he) "Thou shalt never
"have baſe and low thoughts, and defire any thing with
"trouble and anxiety." And Plato faid, that by ſo much
man were to be esteemed wiſer, by how much he more feri
ouily thought of death: and for this reafon he commanded
his difciples, that when they went any journey, they ſhould
go bare-foot; fignifying thereby, that in the way of this
life, we ſhould always have the end of it diſcovered, which
is death, and the end of all things. But chriftians who be-
lieve the other life, are to add unto this contemplation of
death, the memory of eternity; the advantages whereof are
as far above it, as things eternal above thofe which are tem-
poral. The Philofophers were fo much moved with the
apprehenfion of death, becauſe with it all things of this mor
tal life were to end, death being the limit, whereunto they
might enjoy their riches, honours and delights, and no fur-
ther; others de fired to die, becauſe their evils and afflicti-
ons were to die with them. If then death amaze fome only,
becauſe it deprives them of the goods of this life, which by a
thouſand other ways ufe to fail, and which of themſelves
even before the death of the owner are corruptible, dange-
rous and full of cares: and if others hope for death only,
becauſe it frees them from the evils of life, which in them-
felves are thort and little, as all things temporal are; why
fhould not we be moved by the thought of eternity, which
fecures us goods great and everlafling, and threatens us with
evils exceffive, and without end? Without doubt then, if
we rightly conceive of eternity, the memory of it is much
more powerful than that of death: and if of thefe wife men
have had fo great an eſteem, and adviſed others to have the
fame, much more ought to be had of that of eternity. Zenon
defirous to know an efficacious means how to compofe his
life, bridle his carnal appetites, and obferve the laws of ver-
tue, had recourle unto the Oracle; which remitted him un-
(n) Epift. c. 28. apud S. Hier. in ca. 10. Math.
to
14.
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
In
to the memory of death: faying, Go to the dead; confult
with them, and there thou fhalt learn what thou demandeft:
There ſeeing the dead poffefs nothing of what they had, and
that with their lives they had breathed out all their felicity,
he might learn not to be puffed up with pride, nor to value
the vanities of the world. For the fame caufe, fome Phil-
ofophers did ufe to drink in the ſkulls of dead men, that
they might keep in continual memory that they were to die,
and were not to enjoy the pleaſures of this life, although ne-
ceffary, unless alloyed by fome fuch fad remembrance.
like manner, many great Monarchs ufed it as an antidote
againſt the blandifhments of fortune, that their lives might
not be corrupted by their too great profperity. Philip King
of Macedonia, commanded a Page to tell him three times
every morning; Philip thou art a man, putting him in mind
that he was to die, and leave all. The emperor Maximilian
the first, four years before he died, commanded his Coffin to
be made, which he carried along with him whither foever
he went, which with a mute voice, might tell him as much;
Maximilian thou art to die, and leave all. The Emperors
alſo of the Eaſt, amongſt other enfigns of majeſty, carried
in their left hand a book with leaves of gold, which they
called Innocency, the which was full of earth and duft, in fig-
nification of humane mortality, and to put them in mind
hereby of that ancient doom of mankind, Duft thou art,
and into duft thou shalt return. And not without much con-
veniency was this memorial of death in the form of a book,
nothing being of more inftruction and learning, than the
memory of death, being the only fchool of that great truth,
its being of gold, and carried in the left hand, being that
next the heart, had alſo its myſtery, for 'twas to give us to
underſtand, how precious this difabufe is, and that we ought
to ſtamp and imprint it in our hearts, where we may beſt
learn to undeceive ourſelves. With reafon alfo was the book
called Innocency. For who will dare to fin, that knows he
is to die? Neither were the Emperors of the Abiffius (0)
careleſs herein; for at their coronations amongſt many other
ceremonies, there was brought unto them a veffel filled with
earth, and a dead man's fkull, advertifing them in the be-
ginning, that their reign was to have a ipeedy end. Final-
ly, all Philofophers agreed in this, that all their philofophy
was the meditation of death.
(0) Nicol. Gog. lib. 1. de rebus Abill. ca. 8.
But
CAP. III.
15
the Temporal and Eternal.
But without doubt the contemplation of eternity is far be-
yond all philofophy: it is a greater matter, and of far more
aftonifhment, for the torments of Hell to laft for ever, than
for the greatest Empires fuddenly to have an end: more
horrible to fuffer eternal evils, than to be deprived of tem
poral goods: greater marvel that our fouls are immortal,
than that our bodies are to die. Wherefore chriftians, eſpe-
cially thoſe who aim to be perfect, are rather to endeavour
in themſelves a strong conception of eternity, than to ftir up
the fear of death, whofe memory ought not to be needful
for the contempt of what is temporal, fince the firſt ſtep un-
to chriftian perfection (according to the counsel of Chrift)
is to renounce all that we poffefs of the earth, that being fo
freed from thofe impediments of chriftian perfection, we
may employ ourſelves in the confideration and memory of
that eternity which expe&s us hereafter, as a reward of our
holy works, and exercifes of virtue. This horrid voice,
eternity, eternity, is to found often in our hearts. Thou
not only art to die, but being dead, eternity attends thee.
Remember there is a Hell without end, and fix it in thy
memory, that there is a Glory for ever. This confideration,
That if thou fhalt obferve the law of God, thou fhalt be
eternally rewarded, and if thou break it, thou shalt fuffer
pains without end, will be far more powerful with thee, than
to know that the goods and evils of this life, are to end in
death. Be mindful therefore of eternity, and refound in the
inmost part of thy foul, eternity, eternity. For this the
Church when it confecrates the Fathers of it, which are Bi-
ſhops, puts them in mind of this moſt powerful and efficaci-
ous memory of eternity, bidding them think of eternal
years, as David did. And in the affumption and confecra-
tion of Popes, they burn before their eyes a fmall quantity
of flax, with thefe words; Holy Father, fo paffes away the
glory of the world, that by the fight of that short and tranfi-
tory blaze, he may call to mind the flames eternal. And
Martin the fifth, for his impreffe and devife took a flaming--
fire, which in ſhort time burnt and confumed a Pope's Ti-
ara, an imperial Diadem, a regal Crown, and a Cardinal's
Hat, to give them to understand, that if they complied not
with the duties of their places, they were in a fhort time to
burn in the eternal flames of Hell; the memory whereof he
would preferve ever prefent by this moft profitable Symbal
§. 2.
16
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
เ
§. 2.
The name of Ifachar, whofe bleffing from his father was
(as we have formerly faid) to lie down and rest betwixt the
two limits of eternity, fignifies him That bath a memory, or
The man of reward or pay; The Holy Ghoft by this myfte-
ty, charging us with the memory of eternal rewards. And
the Lord to thew how precious it was in his divine eſteem,
and how profitable for us, caufed this name of Ifachar to be
engraven in a precious Amethyft, which was one of thofe
tones worn by the High priest in the Rational, and one of
thofe alfo revealed unto St. John, to be of the foundation of
the city of God. By it, faith St. Anf Ime, is fignified the
memory of eternity, which is the most principal foundation
in the building of all perfection. Truly, if we confider the
properties of this one, they are fo many marks, and pro-
perties of the memory of eternity, and of the benefits which
that foul reaps, which feriouſly confiders it. The Amethyst
(p) caufes vigilancy. And what requires it more, than the
paffage betwixt the two extreams of eternal glory and eter-
hal pains? What thing in the world ought to awake us
more, than the danger of falling into hell-fire? How could
that man fleep, which were to pafs over a narrow plank of
half a foot broad, which ferved as a bridge betwixt two moft
high rocks, the winds impetuoufly blowing, and he, if his
foot dipt, certain to fall into a moſt vaſt abyſs? No lefs is
The danger of this life. The way by which we are to pafs
onto Heaven is moft ftraight, the winds of temptations vio-
lent, the dangers of occafions frequent, the harms by ill ex-
amples infectious, and the deceits of wicked countellors
wery many. How then can a chriftian fleep, and be care-
leſs in ſo evident a perl? Without all doubt it is more diffi-
cult to be faved, confidering the depravity of our nature
and the deceitful ambushes of the devil, than for a heavy
man to paſs over a heady and rapid rivery upon a ſmall and
bruiſed reed.
They fay alfo of the Amethyst, that befides the making
him watchful who carries it, it frees him from evil thoughts,
which how can that man have, who bears eternity in his
hind? How can he think upon the fhort pleafures of his
fenfes,
(p) Albert. Mag. Milius & Ruiz, v. Cefiumde Min, lib. 4. p. 2.
cap. 14. fect. 11,
4
CAP. III.
17
the Temporal and Eternal.
fenfes, who confiders the eternal torments due unto his foul,
if he faall but confent to the leaft mortal fin? The Amethyst
alfo refifts drunknefs, preferving him that wears it in his
fenfes and judgment; and there is nothing that more pre-
ferves a man's judgment in the midſt of the wine of delights
in this life, than the memory of the other, and that for the
pleaſure one momen here, he is not only to ſuffer for
hours, for days, for months, for years, but for worlds, and a
world of worlds hereafter. The Amethyst befides this, pre-
ferves the wearer from the force of poiſon. And what great-
er antidote against the poifon of fin, than to remember Hell,
which he deferves, and Heaven, which he lofes by commit-
ting it? The Amethyst alfo quiets a man, and fettles his
thoughts. And what can be more efficacious to free us from
the diſturbance of this life, to bridle the infolence of cove-
toufnefs, to reprefs the afpiring of ambition, than to confider
the bleffings of eternity, which attend the humble and poor
in fpirit? Finally, the Amethyst confers fruitfulness; and
this great thought of eternity is fruitful of holy works. For
who is he that confiders with a lively faith, that for a thing
fo flight and momentary, he may enjoy the reward of eter-
nal glory, and will not be animated to work all he is able,
and to endure and fuffer what thall happen for God Al-
mighty and his caufe? O how fruitful of heroical works is
this holy thought, Eternal glory expects me! the triumphs of
martyrs, the victories of virgins, the mortifications of con-
feffors are the effe&s of this confiderations O holy thought!
O precious Amethyst, that makes vigilant and attentive the
negligent and careless: that gives wifdom and judgment to
the most deceived: that heals thoſe, who are moſt ulcera-
ted, and corrupted with the poifon of fin; that quiets and
pacifies the motions and troubles of our concupifcences;
that makes the most tepid and barren of virtues fruitful of
holy works; who will not endeavour to obtain and fix thee
in his foul? O that chriftians would fo engrave theé in their
heart, that thou mighteft never be blotted out, nor removed
from thence. How differently would they then live to what
they now do? how would they fhine in their works? for
though the memory of Hell, Heaven, Death and Judgment
be very efficacious for the reformation of our lives, yet this
of eternity, is like the quintefcence of them all, and virtu
ally contains the reft.
C
CAP,
18
I IB. I..
The Difference betwixt
CA P. IV.
The State of Men in this Life, and their miferable forgetful
neſs of Eternity.
BEFORE come to deco
EFORE we come to declare the conditions of eternity,
whoſe confiderations is fo neceffary for leading of a
holy, and a virtuous life, let us fet before our eyes, the for-
getfulneſs and miferable mistakes of the Sons of Adam, in a
matter of fo great importance, living as if eternity were far
off, when as the philofopher fays, it is not two fingers dif-
tant, and every minute threatens them. What divides the
mariner from his death, but the thickneſs of a plank? What
the cholerick and hafty man from eternity, but the edge of
a ſword? What the foldier from his end, but the reach of a
bullet? What the thief from the gallows, but the diſtance
betwixt that and the prifon? Finally, how far is the moſt
healthful and vigorous perfon diftant from eternity, but as
much as from life to death, which often happens fuddenly,
and ought every moment to be expected? The life of man
is a dangerous paffage, wherein he walks upon the brink of
eternity, with a certainty at laft to fall into it. Why lives
he then fo wretchedly? He who ſhould walk clofe unto a
great precipice, in a path no broader than the breadth of his
foot, and that alfo full of rubs and ftumbling-blocks, how
circumfpely would he look about him, and how carefully
would he order his fteps? How then is it, that being fo near
eternity, he is fo carelefs, and lives as if he were out of
danger?
St. John Damafcen, excellently declares (q) the fondneſs
and miſtakes of men in a moſt ingenious parable, wherein
he naturally fets forth the ſtate of this life. A certain man,
faith he, flying from a furious Unicorn, which with his very
foaring, made the fountains tremble, and the valleys to
refound, not regarding through fear which way he went,
chanced to fall into a moft deep pit; but in his fall fpread-
ing abroad his arms to catch at fomething, which might re-
lieve him, happened to light upon the boughs of a tree,
which
(q) In Hifto. Barla. c. 12. in fine.
CAP. IV.
19
the Temporal and Eternal.
1
which grew out of the fide of that pit, whereon he ſeized
with much joy, hoping he had then both escaped the fury
of the beat, and the danger of his fall: but looking towards
the foot of the tree, he perceived two great Rats, the one
white, the other black, perpetually gnawing the root of it,
infomuch, that it was now ready to fall; looking afterwards
into the bottom of the pit, he beheld a moſt deformed Dra-
gon, with flaming eyes gazing upon him, and with open
mouth awaiting his fall, that he might devour him; then
cafting his eyes unto that fide of the pit where the tree grew,
there appeared four poiſonous Afps, fhooting forth their
heads to bite him mortally. Yet notwithstanding marking
the leaves of the tree, he perceived fome of them to diſtil
certain drops of honey, with which he was fo greatly pleaſed,
that forgetting the dangers, which from fo many parts
threatened him, he employed himſelf wholly in gathering
and tasting drop by drop that fmall quantity of honey, with-
out reflecting or making further account, either of the fierce-
nefs of the Unicorn above him, of the horribleness of the
Dragon beneath him, of the poifon of the Afps afide him,
or the weakneſs of the tree which was ready to fall, and
precipitate him into that horrid dungeon. In this image we
fee reprefented the ftate of man,, who forgetful of the ma-
nifold perils of this tranfitory life, give themselves wholly
over unto vain pleaſures. For by the Unicorn is fignified
death, which even from the hour of man's birth, follows
and purſues him; The pit is the world full of evils and mi-
feries; The Tree is the courſe of this life; The two Rats,
the one black, the other white, which gnaw it at the root,
are day and night, which continually feconding one another
go by hours and minutes confuming it; The four Afps are
the four elements, or four humours, of which we are com-
poſed, the which by the excess of any one of them diſtemper
the whole frame of our bodies, and at laſt deſtroy it; That
horrid and fearful Dragon is the eternity of Hell, which en-
larges his throat and jaws to fwallow finners; The ſmall
drops of honey are the pleaſures and delights of this life;
and fo great is the diversion which they cauſe, that men for
a ſhort and momentary content, confider not the many dan-
gers unto which they are expoſed; and feeing themſelves
encompaſſed on all parts by as many dangers of death, as
there are ways and cauſes of dying, which are infinite, and
are ſo many mouths and gates of eternity, yet notwithſtand-
C 2
ing
20
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
ing folace themſelves with the momentary delights of this
fmall drop of honey, which fhall at laft cauſe them to dif
gorge and caft up their entrails for a world without end.
Wonderful it is, that fo great a forgetfulneſs poffeffes us
and a matter full of amazement, that we are not moved
with fo great dangers. How comes it to pass, that every
minute a new day of eternity dawning upon us, we care-
lefsly pass over fo many days and months? Let the mot
ftrong and healthful perfon tell me, what one year he is af
fured of, wherein death may not affault him, and push him
headlong into an eternal abyfs. But what fpeak I of a year?
what month, what week, day, hour, what inftant is he fure
of: how then can we eat? how fleep in fafety? how in-
dulge ourſelves with any pleafures of this world? If one
fhould enter into a field full of ambuſhes and fecret traps,
whereon if he ſhould chance to fet his careleſs foot, he were
in danger to fall upon the points of pikes or halberts, or into
the mouth of fome terrible dragon, and feeing with his own.
eyes, that they, who entered with him into the fame field,
hourly fell into thofe traps, and appeared no more, fhould
notwithſtanding run leaping and dancing up and down
without fear or apprehenfion of any thing amifs, who would
not ſay that man were a fool? Certainly more fool art thou,
who feeing thy friends fall daily into the trap of death, thy
neighbour ſwallowed up in eternity, thy brother fink into
the pit of the grave, doft yet notwithstanding remain care-
Jefs and fecure, as if the fame fate did not attend thyfelf.
Although to die were a thing uncertain, yet for the doubt
and danger that it might happen, thou oughteſt to be vigi-
lant, and prepared for it. What oughteſt thou then to be,
it being fo certain, and that early or late, thou art to enter
in at the gate of eternity? A marvellous thing it is with
what care men provide themſelves against dangers, although
very uncertain. If they hear that thieves are in the way to
rob and Ipoil the paffengers, no man paffes that way but
armed, and well provided, and many in company if they
understand that the plague begins to rage, what antidotes
and counterpeſts are fought for? if they fear a famine, every
man in time provides himſelf of corn. How happens it
then, that knowing that there is a death, a judgment, a
hell, an eternity, we ftand not upon our guards, nor provide
Qurſelves for it? Let us open our eyes, and look into the
perils which environ us; let us take heed where we fet our
:
feet,
·
1
CAP. IV.
21
the Temporal and Eternal.
feet, that we perifh not; for the paths of this life are full of
dangers. And with reafon did Ifidorus Clarius (r) compare
it to a narrow bridge, ſcarce broad enough to receive our
feet, under which was a lake of black and filthy water, full
of ferpents, and of ugly and poisonous creatures, which only
fuftained themſelves by feeding on thofe unfortunate peo-
ple, who fell from the bridge; on either fide were pleaſant
gardens, meadows, fountains, and beautiful buildings: But
as it were extreme madneſs in him, who was to paſs ſo dan-
gerous a bridge, to entertain himſelf with gazing upon thoſe
gardens and buildings, without taking care where he fet his
foot: fo is it as great a folly in him, who is to pafs this tran-
fitory life, to apply himſelf to pleaſures and delights, with-
out taking care of his way or works. To this Cefarius Are-
latenfis adds, That the greatest danger of this bridge con-
fifted towards the end, where it was narroweft: and this is
the most straight paffage of death. Let us therefore, if we
intend to gain Heaven, look how we place our feet in this
life, left we miſplace them in death, and to perish in that
eternity, wherein our life is to conclude. O eternity, eter-
nity; how few there are that provide for thee? O eternity,
peril of perils, and danger (if we mifs the mark, whereat we
ought to aim) above all dangers, whence comes it that we
prepare not for thee? why do not mortals think of thee and
fear thee? there's no peril greater than that of eternity, no
danger more certain than that of death; why then do we
not arm ourſelves and prepare for them? whence comes it
that we fear thee not, which are to endure as long as God
is God? this prefent life is but to laſt a very little time, our
forces will fail us, our fenfes wax dull, our riches leave us,
the commodities of the world fly from us, the want of breath
make an end of us, and the world at laſt caft us out of it ş
what then will become of us; we are to be fent into a
ftrange country for a long time: why do we not forecaſt
what to do when we come thither.
But that we may the better fee this our condition, and ſo
learn to be more cautious, I will relate another parable of
the fame St. John Damafcen (s). There was, faith he, a
city very great and populous, whereof the inhabitants had a
cuſtom to elect for their King a ſtranger, who had no know-
ledge of that kingdom, and common-wealth: This King
(r) Ifid. Clar. & juxt. S. Greg.
(s) In vita Jofaph.
for
22
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
j
for a year they fuffered to do what he lift, but that being
ended, and he moft fecure without fear, or apprehenfion of
any thing amifs, thinking he fhould reign as long as he lived,
they fuddenly came upon him, defpoiled him of his royal
apparel, dragging him naked through the streets, and ban-
ifhing him into an ifland far off, where he came to fuffer
extreme poverty, not having wherewith to feed or cloath
himfelf, his fortune without thinking on it wholly changing
into the contrary, his riches into poverty, his joy into fad-
nefs, his dainties into hunger, and his royal purple into na-
kedness. But once it happened, that he whom they elected,
was a prudent and a fubtile man, and having underſtood
from one of his counfellors, this evil and wicked cuftom of
the citizens, and their notable inconftancy, grew not proud
and haughty, with the indignity of the kingdom, which they
had conferred upon him; but became careful in providing
for himself, that when he fhould be depofed and banifhed
into that iſland, which he every moment expected, he might
not as his predeceffors perifh with poverty and hunger.
The courſe he took was during his reign, to tranfport fe-.
cretly into that iſland all the treafures of the city, which
were very great. The year being ended, the citizens, ac-
cording to their custom with his predeceffors, came in an
uproar to depofe him of his office and royalty, and to fend
him in exile into the iſland; whither he went without trou-
ble, having before hand provided wherewith he might live
in honour and plenty, whilft the preceeding Kings perished
with want and penury. This is that which paffes in this
world, and the courfe which a wife man ought to take.
That city fignifies this world, foolith, vain and most incon-
ftant, wherein when we think to reign, we are fuddenly def-
poiled of all we have, and fent naked into our graves, when
we leaſt look for it, and are moſt buſy in enjoying and en-
tertaining ourſelves with the fading and tranfitory pleaſures
of this life, as if we were immortal, without fo much as
thinking on eternity, whither we are in a fhort time to be
banished: A region far off, and far removed from our
thoughts, whither we are to go naked, and forfaken of all,
where we are to perish with an éternal death, and fhall only
live to be tormented: into a land of the dead, obfcure and
dark, where no light enters, but everlaſting horror and eter-
nal forrow inhabits. He is therefore wife, who foreſeeing
that he is to be defpoiled of all he hath in this world, pro-
vides
CAP. V.
.23
the Temporal and Eternal.
vides for the next, making fuch uſe of time in this life, that
he may find the profit of it in eternity, and with the holy
works of penance, charity and alms, tranfports his treaſures.
into that region, where he is to dwell for ever.
Let us
therefore think upon the eternal, and for it defpife the tem-
poral, and we ſhall gain both the one and the other.
The confideration of eternity St. Gregory underſtood to be
figured by the ftore-houſe well furnifhed with precious wine,
into which the fpoufe faith, that the bridegroom brought her,
and in her ordained charity; becauſe, faith he, who fhall
with a profound attention confider in his mind eternity, may
glory in himſelf, faying, be batb ordained in me charity; by
which thought he fhall better preferve the order of love,
loving himself the lefs, and God and all things for God the
more; he ſhall not make uſe of the temporal things of this
life, not even of thoſe which are moft neceffary, but in or
der to the eternal.
CA P. V.
What is Eternity according to St. Gregory Nazianzen, and
St. Dionyfius.
L'
ET us therefore begin to declare fomething of what
is inexplicable, and to frame fome kind of conception
of what is incomprehenfible, whereby chriftians knowing,
or (to ſpeak more properly) being lefs ignorant of what is
eternity, may have a horror either to commit a fin, or to
omit an act of virtue; trembling in themſelves, that for
matters of ſo ſmall value, as are thoſe of the earth, they are
to loſe things fo great and precious, as are thofe of Heaven.
Agrippina perceiving the great profuſeneſs of her fon, who
poured out gold and filver, as if it had been water, defirous
to reform his prodigality, upon a time when the emperor
had commanded about a quarter of a million to be beſtowed
upon ſome minion of his, cauſed as much more to be ſpread
upon a table, and placed where he was to pass to the end,
that ſeeing with his own eyes the mighty mafs of treaſure,
which he ſo waſtefully mifpent, he might after with more
difcretion moderate his vaft expences. Truly, the folly and
vanity
24
LIB. I.
The Difference betmixt
vanity of man admits no other cure, than to fet before his
eyes, that for the fmall and momentary pleaſures of a fin
committed against the law of God, he lofes and unthriftily
cafts away that which is to laſt for ever. For this caufe we
ought to confider, what it is to have no end, what it is to
laft for ever, what it is to be eternal. But who is able to
declare this? for eternity is an immenfe ocean, whofe bot-
tom cannot be found: a moft obfcure abyfs, wherein are
funk all the faculties of humane underſtanding an intricate
labyrinth, out of which there is no iffue: a perpetual prefent,
without what was, or what fhall be a continued circle,
whoſe center is in every part, and circumference no where:
a great year, which ever begins, and is never ended: final-
ly, that which never can be comprehended, yet ever ought
to be pondered and thought upon. But that we may fay
fomething, and frame fome conception of it, let us fee in
what manner the faints have defined it. St. Gregory Nazi-
anzeń knows not what it is, but only what it is not; and
therefore fays, Eternity is not time, nor part of time; becauſe
time, and each part of time pafs away, but in eternity no-
thing does nor ever ſhall pass. All the torments, with which
a foul enters into hell, fhall after millions of years paft, tor-
ment him as lively and entirely, as at the first beginnings
neither ſhall the joys with which the just enter into Heaven,
ever in the leaft fort diminiſh. Time hath his property to
draw along with it cuftom, which at length leffens the fenfe
of what at firit was grievous; but eternity is ever the fame,
ever entire, in it nothing paffes, the pains with which the
damned begin, ſhall after a thouſand ages be the fame they
were at firſt, and the glory which he who is faved, receives
in the firſt inſtant, fhall ever appear freſh and new unto
him. Eternity hath no parts, all is of a piece; in it there
is no diminution, nor leffening. And though the pleaſures
of this life, which go along with time, are of this condition,
that in time they leffen, and that there is no delight in this
world, which by long enjoying becomes not troubleſome
and tedious; and that to the contrary, even griefs and pains
with continuance, either grow lefs, or are ablolutely cured;
yet far otherwiſe is the web which eternity weaves: it is all
uniform; in it there is no joy which wearies us, nor any
pain which by continuance abates, or becomes lefs fenfibie;
infomuch as eternity, according to St. Dionyfius Areopagita,
is
CAP. V.
25
the Temporal and Eternal.
(t) is the immutability, immortality, and incorruptibility of
a thing wholly, and altogether exiftent; a space which pe-
rifhes not, but is always fubfiftent after the fame manner;
and therefore as the wife man faith, Wherefore the Tree falls,
there it fall for ever remain: if thou fhalt fall as an infer-
nal fire brand into the bottom of Hell, there ſhalt thou be for
ever burning whilst God is God; it not being in the power
of any to redeem thee thence, nor in thy own, fo much as to
turn from one fide to the other.
Eternity is immutable, becauſe incompatible with change:
it is immortal, becauſe not capable of end: and incorrupti
ble, becauſe it cannot fuffer diminution. The evils of this
life, how deſperate of remedy foever, yet want not this com-
fort, that they are either eafed with change, or ended by
death, or leffened by corruption. But all this is wanting in
eternal evils. The change of pains ferves for a refreſhment.
and the infirm man, how afflicted foever, by turning from
fide to fide receives fome eaſe; but eternal pains ſhall whilſt
God is God, remain in the fame pofture, force and vigour,
without change at all. If the moſt pleaſant and wholeſome
food of Manna, only becauſe continual, cauſed vomiting,
and became loathfome; What ſhall thofe pains do, which
ſhall laſt for ever? What torments fhall they cauſe, ſince
they are to remain ſtill after the fame manner? The fea
hath his ebbs and flows, the rivers their encreaſes, the pla-
nets their various aspects, the year his four ſeaſons, the
greateſt fevers have their relaxations, and the fharpeſt pain
arriving at the height ufes to decreafe; only eternal tor-
ments ſhall never fuffer declination, nor fhall the eyes of the
damned ever ſee a change. The plain and even way which
feems moſt eaſy, wearies the traveller, becauſe it wants va-
riety. What wearinefs fhall then the ways of eternity cauſe,
and thofe perpetual pains, which can neither change, end,
nor diminiſh? The torments, whereinto Cain entered, now
five thousand years ago, are after fo many ages paſt, ſtill
the fame they were at firft; and what they now are, ſhall
for fo many ages more to come; they are meaſured by the
eternity of God, and the duration of his unhappineſs, by
the duration of the divine glory; whilft God lives, he ſhall
wreſtle with death, and thall immortally continue dying;
that eternal death ftill living, and that miferable life ftil dy-
ing, containing the worst of life, and the wort of death:
D
(t) Cap. 10. de divin. nomin.
thoſe
26
`L I B. I
The Difference betwixt
-
thoſe wretched fouls living only, that they may fuffer tor-
ments, and dying, that they may not enjoy comfort, having
neither the content of lite, nor the end of death; but con-
trarywife for their greater torment, have the pain of death,
and duration of life. On the other part behold the `happy
lot of them that die in grace: their glory fhall be immortal,
without fear of ending; their happinefs irmutable, without
capacity of growing old; their crown incorruptible, with-
out danger of withering: where no day fhall paſs without
joy, whofe content ſhall be ever new, and whofe glory flou-
rish for perpetual eternities, and whofe happineſs fhall ever
be the fame. And that very glory, which St. Michael was
fix thousand years ago poffeffed of, the fame he enjoys this
very inftant, as fresh and new as at the firft, and for fix mil-
lions of years to come, be as new as now.
CA P. VI.
What Eteruity is, according unto Boetius and Plotinus.
LE
ET us now hear the opinions of Severinus Boctius and
Plotinus, two great philofophers, and the one of them
no leſs a divine, what they conceive concerning this great
mystery and fecret of eternity. Boetius defines eternity to
be (u), A total and perfect poffeffion of an indeterminable life:
which definition, although it principally belongs unto the
eternity of God, yet it may be alfo applied unto the eternity
of reaſonable creatures: fince they alfo enjoy a total and
perfect poffeffion of happinefs in an eternal life, never to
end. With reafon he calls it a poffeffion, for the fulneſs it
hath of joy; poffeffion being the best way of enjoying, the
which implies a full dominion of what it poffeffes; for he
who hath a thing in loan or truft, may be faid to enjoy it,
but not with that liberty, as he who poffeffes it. He lays
moreover, that this poffeffion is total, becauſe it is of all
goods and bleflings, without miffing of any one, and all of
them at once, it not being neceffary for the enjoying of
them, to have them one after another, but altogether. The
goods and bleffings of this life have not this condition; for
although
(u) Lib. 5. de conf. Philofopho.
4
CAP. VI. the Temporal and Eternal.
27
although one were mafter of them all, yet he could not en-
joy them all at once, but fucceffively; fome paffing away,
and others fucceeding in their place. The emperor Heliog
ahalus, who most defired and most endeavoured to enjoy
them, for all the diligence and hafte he uſed, was hardly
poffeffed of three or four at once: for whilst he was in his
banquets, he could not attend his mafques and dances; whilſt
he was in thefe, he ejoyed not the pleaſures of the fhews,
and fpectacles of the amphitheatre; whilft he was prefent at
them, he could not apply himſelf to hunting and ſports of
the field; and whilft fo employed, he could not fatiate him-
felf in lutt and fenfuality: Finally, to enjoy one, he muft of
neceffity quit the other; infomuch as he could neither en-
joy all pleaſures, thofe wanting which were enjoyed by o-
thers: and of thofe, which he might enjoy himſelf, but few
at a time. But unto the juft in Heaven, no bleffings or con-
tents are miffing, no fucceflion needful for their enjoying,
the bleffed poffeffing them all, and all together.
The poffeffion of this happiness is alfo perfect, in reſpect
of the fecurity it hath, nothing being of force to difquiet it,
no one to go ro law about it, none to ſteal it, none to diſturb
it, and is likewife perfect, becauſe compleat; nor like the
goods of the earth, which cannot be enjoyed entirely for
either the diſtance of place, the imperfection of the fenfible
organ, the mixture of fome grief or care, or at leaſt the mul-
titude of objects, and their own oppofition diftra& the per-
fect fruition of them. But eternal happiness is by the blef-
fed, in its full extenfion perfectly poffeffed; the joy of it
entirely reliſhed, and the effence and ſweetneſs of it wholly
penetrated and imbibed into the effence of the foul, the
which no mixture of pain, no furprize of grief, no incapaci-
ty of the ſubject, no distance of pofition, no greatneſs of the
object can hinder; for grief and care have there no place,
the fubject is elevated above its nature, the obje& accom-
modated, and the eternal pleaſure and delight of it not pro-
portioned by ſpace and diftance. Wherefore Plotinus like-
wife faid (x), that eternity was A life full, and all at once:
becauſe in it all that hath life fhall be full and compleat, the
fenfes with the whole capacity of the foul, fhall be replen-
iſhed with all happineſs and delight, there being no part of
life in man, which ſhall not be full of fweetness, joy and con-
tent. The life of the hearing fhall be full, with the concert
D 2
(x) En. 1. lib. 7. c. 1.
of
28
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
of moſt harmonious mufick; the life of the ſmell fhall be
full, with the fragrancies of moſt ſweet odours; the life of
the eyes ſhall be full, feeding themſelves with all beauty;
the life of the understanding fhall be full, with the know-
ledge of the Creator; and the life of the will fhall be full in
loving, rejoicing, and delighting itself in him. Temporal
life is not capable of this fulness and fatisfaction even in
fmall matters, the attention of one fenſe hinders that of an-
other, and the attention of the body that of the fpirit. This
life cannot be here enjoyed but by parts, and that alfo not
compleatly: but in that eternal telicity, the lite fhall be full,
the poffeffion total, and the joy perfect, where all is to live,
which here can die, where neither the incompoffibility of the
objects, nor the impediment of the fenfes, nor the incapaci
ty of the foul, fhall hinder us from enjoying all bleffings,
together with all our fenfes, and all our powers jointly
Over and above all this poffeffion, which is fo total, fo pers
fect and ſo full, is for life without death, a ſpace without li
mit, a day eternal, which is equivalent to all davs, and in-
cludes all years, embraces all ages, and excels all times,
becauſe in it nothing paffes, nor any good of it ever ſhall
país.
To the contrary, it is with thofe wretched finners, whofe
eternal miſeries have the fame condition of evil, which the
eternity of the bleffed hath of good: unto whom their evil.
ſhall not be extrinfical, but in full poffeffion of them, and
they ſhall remain in their torments with all their foul, body,
powers and fenfes. That is called poffeffion, which is ac-
quired by a corporal and real prefence. Theſe then unfor-
tunate finners are to continue in their torments, with all
what they have of being, not as in a thing lent or diftant
from them, but as in a thing fo proper, as it can by poffibi
lity be parted or feparated from them, nothing being more
proper and due, than punishment is to fin. Wherefore all
evils fhall take poffeffion of all what they are, their ſenſes,
their members, the joints of their bodies, the powers of their
foul, their moſt ſpiritual faculties fhall be poffeffed by fire,
bitterneſs, grief, rage, defpite, mifery, and malediction.
This poffeffion of thoſe unfortunate creatures ſhall be total,
becauſe of all evils: for no evil can be wanting where there
is a concourſe and meeting of all torments and unhappineſs.
In the taſte there ſhall not want bitterness, in the appetite
hunger, in the tongue thirft, in the fight horror, in the hear
ing
CAP. VI.
29
the Temporal and Eternal.
ing aftoniſhment, in the ſmell ftink, in the heart pain, in the
imagination fear, in every member grief, and in the very
bowels fire.
All evils are therefore to poffefs the damned, and all to-
tally; their torments being fo many, that if they were to
fuffer them one after another, many years would not ſuffice
to finish them. And this only were fufficient to make their
condition most terrible. But above all their unhappiness,
this is the greatest, that they are to fuffer them all at once.
The pain in one part of the body, is not to hope it ſhould
ceaſe in another, the grief of the fpirit is not to expect, that
the fire which burns the flefh fhould have an end; all evils
are to fet upon them at once, and all at one clap are to fall
upon the heads of the damned. The continuance of one
little drop hollows a ſtone; and to ruin the world, it was
enough for God to rain for forty days. What shall then be,
when his divine juftice fhall rain fire, fulphur, and tempeft
upon the heads of the damned, not for forty days, but whilſt
God is God? Befides all this they fhall not only be poffeffed
by all the evils, and all jointly at once, but by all of them
fully in their whole force and vigour. The ſenſe of them
fhall not grow lefs by their multitude, nor dull by their
greatness, but ſhall remain as quick and lively to them all,
and fhall be as fenfible of the rigour of each one of them,
as if they fuffered but one only: for the fire fhall not only
penetrate their bones, heart and entrails, but the fury of it
ſhall ſearch into the very foul, and burn that with immortal
flames. The poffeffion of its mifery fhall be whole, it fhall
be perfect, it ſhall be full; whole, becauſe it ſhall ſuffer all
forts of evils; perfe&t, becauſe it ſhall fuffer them wholly;
and full, becauſe it ſhall ſuffer in all the fenfes, and in all
the faculties that are capable of fuffering. This ſtate and
life, where we now are, is not to laft, or, to ſpeak more pro-
perly, this death is not to live; but in the damned, their
death fhall live as long as God fhall have life, and their mi-
ſeries ſhall endure as long as God ſhall have glory.
CAP.
30
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
CA P. VII.
Wherein is declared what Eternity is, according to St.
BERNARD.
ST
T. Bernard (y) in another manner defcribes eternity,
faying, It is that which embraces all times paft, prefent,
and to come: becauſe no days, no years, no ages are able to
fill up eternity: it is that which devours all times poffible
and imaginable, and yet remains with an unfatiable appe-
tite, ftill greedy of fwallowing more: It is faid to embrace
all time, becauſe it enjoys all that in an inftant, which is to
be enjoyed in all time. Wherefore Marfilius Ficinus called
eternity, an eternal moment: and Leffius faid, it was both the
longeft and shortest of all things. It was longeft, becauſe it
exceeded all time, and lafted infinite fpaces; it was ſhorteſt,
becauſe it contained all that in an inftant, which it was ca-
pable of containing in an infinite duration. For as time is
a fluid inftant, which flies and paffes away, infomuch as
there is nothing of time in being but the prefent, which is
ever running and changing from one moment to another;
fo eternity is a permanent inftant, fixed and ftable, in which
all things remain at once, and are ever exiftent in the fame
ſtate and manner: Before it all times pafs, the one fucceed-
ing the other, whilft it ftands prefent and perleveres the fame
unto them all. Time and things temporal are like a rapid
river, wherein the weaves run rolling down, each fucceed-
ing other in a perpetual viciffitude: But eternity is like a
firm rock, or like the bed of that river, which remains fet-
tled and conftant in the fame place, whilft the waters pats
through it, never to appear again. In the like manner
things temporal, without permanency or confiftency at all,
paſs hastily in the prefence of eternity, and never more re-
turn to falute the world And as the bed of the river, though
ſtanding ſtill, contains all the waters which run through it,
fo eternity embraces all times which paffes by it. Eternity
may also be compared unto the center in a circle, which
being indiviſible, one correfponds unto the whole circumfe-
(y) Serm. 1. in fefto Omn. Sancto.
rence,
CAP. VII
31
the Temporal and Eternal.
rence, and equally refpects each particular point contained
in it. In the fame manner eternity correfponds unto all
time, and to each inftant of it after a moft marvellous way,
containing all that in prefent, which time contains fuccef-
fively in a million of ages, and is an inſtant equivalent unto
an infinity of times, not having one part after another, but
the whole extenfion amaffed in one inftant, containing all
that together in one moment, which is extenfible unto infi-
nite diſtances of time. For as the immenfity of God con-
tains in one point all the divine greatnefs, which without
bound or limit is dilated over all parts real and imaginable,
in fo much as it contains in one point, as much as in a mil-
lion of leagues: even fo eternity recollects into one inftant.
all the divine duration, although extended through an infi-
nite time; which alfo the reaſonable creatures are to parti-
cipate in the other life, for as much as concerns their glory
or pain, and after fuch a manner as they are capable of.
Whence follows one thing very much to be confidered,
that thoſe goods unto which eternity is annexed, it makes
infinitely better, and that after two manners, and, as we
may fay, with two infinities; and contrary wife the evil it
makes infinitely worſe, and that alfo after the fame two
manners; The first in respect of the duration which it con-
fers, the which is infinite: and every thing is to be eſteem-
ed fo much the greater, by how much the duration is longer.
The content of a day is not fo great as that of a week, nor
is that equal to the content of a month or year; and as the
duration encreaſes, fo the value of the pleafure grows high-
er, in fo much as if it laft infinitely, it is infinitely to be ef
teemed. In like manner of pain, the longer it lasts the
worfe it is, and if it laft infinitely, it becomes an infinite.
evil, which will infinitely exceed any temporal evil whatfo-
ever, though more in greatnefs: and that in fo high a de-
gree, that if it fhou'd be left to one's choice, either to be
thrown alive into a burning furnace, and at the fame time
to fuffer all the infirmities and griefs which phyfic knows,
and all the kinds of torments which martyrs have endured,
and all the cruel puniſhments which have been executed up-
on the moſt heinous offender, and all this for the ſpace of
200 millions of years, but then to end and paſs no further:
or to fuffer a megrim, or a tooth ach for a whole eternity,
certainly he ought rather to chooſe all thofe torments toge-
ther for that time limited, than either of thefe fingle pains
for
32
The Difference betwixt
LIB. I.
for ever? becaufe although thofe exceed this in greatnefs,
yet this world infinitely exceed thofe in duration. In fum,
if those, though exceffive, were temporal, and this, though
lefs, were eternal, which would infinitely encreaſe the ma-
lice of it, there being hopes that thoſe would at laſt find an
end, but this were without remedy: I dare be bold to think
that the lively apprehenfions of eternity, which the damned
conceive, is fuch, that if it were in one's election, either to
be exempted from all the torments he now endures, and to
remain afflicted only with the ſtone for an eternity: or to
have added unto his own particular torments, all thofe which
the rest of the damned ſuffer in all their fenfes, but limited
for a thouſand millions of years, he would chooſe this laſt
for the leffer evil; at least in reafon he ought to chooſe it:
for although thofe pains were greater, yet they were to have
an end, and this of the ftone, though lefs was to be eternal.
Let now thoſe lovers and efteemers of tranfitory pleaſures
come to a reckoning with themſelves. If the torments of
hell, though fo exceffive, were fufferable, if they were only
temporal, nay to be choſen rather, than ſo flight a grief, as
the ſtone that were eternal, how happens it, that they will
not fuffer with patience one fmall griet during the fhort time.
of this life, in exchange of being freed from the eternal
pains of hell-fire during the other? If a giant in time (that
we may ſo ſpeak) hath no bulk or appearance in the prefence.
of a pigmey in eternity, how comes it then that a dwarf or
pigmey in time affrights us, and an armed giant in eternity
makes us not tremble? how is it that eternal hell moves us
not, and yet we fear a temporal pain? why do we not pe-
nance for our fins? why have we not patience in our affic-
tions? why fuffer we not all that which can be fuffered in
this life, rather than to fuffer one only torment in eternity?
The pains of this valley of tears, being they are to have an
end, are not to be feared in comparifon of thofe which ſhall
never have it: how contentedly then ought we to fuffer
here a little, and for a fhort time, that we may be freed from
fuffering much hereafter, and for ever?
What we have confidered in evils and afflictions, the
fame is to be confidered in goods and bleffings. If one were
to enjoy all the pleaſures of the fenfes for a thouſand miriads
of years, but were to pafs no further, we ought to change
them all for one only pleaſure, that would last for ever.
Why then exchange we not one periſhing pleaſure of the
earth,
CAP. VIL
33
the Temporal and Eternal.
earth, which is to laſt but for a moment, for all thoſe im-
menfe joys, which we are to poffefs in Heaven for a world
without end? All the temporal goods of the world might
well be quitted for the fecuring of only one that were eter-
na!; how is it then that we fecure not all the eternal by for-
bearing now and then one which is temporal? It would in-
finitely exceed the dominion of the whole world, fo long as
the world ſhall laft, to be lord but of one little cottage for
eternity: time holds no compariſon with it, all that is tem-
poral how great foever, being to be eſteemed vile and baſe,
and all that is eternal, how fmall foever, high and precious.
And that we may exaggerate this confideration as much as
poffible, the very being of God himself, if it were but for a
time, might be quitted for fome other infinitely less excel-
lent, which were eternal. And fhall then the covetous man
fatisfy himself with thefe poor treafures, which death may
quit him of to-morrow, and perhaps the thief to day, defpi-
fing for them the eternal treaſure of Heaven? For certain
if God ſhould promife us to enjoy the pleaſure of one only
fenfe for ever in the next life, we ought for it to part with
all the pleaſures we have in this: how great a folly is it then
that being promiſed all thoſe immenfe joys of Heaven, we
will not for all them together part with fome of thoſe poor
ones on earth?
The fecond way, by which eternity, unto whatfoever it is
joined, makes the good infinitely better, and the bad infi-
nitely worfe, is becauſe it collects itfelf wholly into every in-
ftant, ſo that in every inftant it makes us fenfible of all that,
which it is to contain in its whole duration and being to
endure for an infinity, it amaffes as it were into every inſtant
a whole infinity or pleaſure or pain, every inftant being fen-
fible both of what it contains at prefent, what is paft, and
what it ſhall contain in the future; So, as a doctor lays (a),
"In eternity, all the good a thing can contain fucceffively
in an infinite time, is recollected into one instant, and
"made perceptible and enjoyable all at once. As if all the
pleafures a molt delicious banquet could afford fucceffive-
❝ly by parts, and that in an infinite time, fhould be refu-
"med all at once, and all that delight fhould be conferred
jointly and together for eternity, certainly this would
"make it infinitely better, and of more eſteem.”
E
(a) Lef. de perfec. divi. lib. 4. c. 3.
The
}
34
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
The fame thing eternity causes in evils and pains, colle&ing
them in a certain manner into one, and making them fen-
fible all at once; and, although they be not all really and
actually together, yet it caufes them to be apprehended al-
together, and ſo produces in the foul a grief infinite and
without limit. Thole then are truly evils, which are total-
ly and every way evils, both in extenfion, their duration
having no end, and in intenfion, their being and effence
having no limit or meafure. What afflicted perſon who
confiders this can be impatient, fince all the griefs of this
life have both an end and limit? The greateſt temporal
evils are but as biting of gnats in refpe&t of the leaſt of thofe
which are eternal: and therefore that we may eſcape all the
eternal, it is not much to fuffer one temporal. Let us trem-
ble at the confideration of those two lances of eternity, thofe
two infinities, whole wounds are mortal, and pierce the
damned from fide to fide: thole two unſupportable rocks,
which over-whelm and cruſh whom they fall upon into pie-
ces. All that we ſuffer here is to be laughed at, as a fillip
with a finger, and a trifle in refpe&t of the eternal, which
embraces all times, and with the evils of them, all falls eve-
ry inſtant upon the head of the damned.
§. 2.
Befides what have been already faid, goods and evils eter-
nal have this condition, that they are not only qualified and
augmented by the future, but alfo by what is pait, although
temporal; fo as the bleffed fouls in Heaven not only enjoy
the glory, which they have at prefent, and that which is to
come, but alſo what is paſt, even thoſe real and true goods
of this life, to wit, their virtues and good works, with the
memory of which they recreate, and congratulate them-
felves for all eternity: in fo much as all goods paſt, preſent
and to come, concur in one to fill up the meaſure of their
joy, and the goods of all times even thoſe of this life are
amaffed, and heaped up in their felicity. How different
from this are temporal goods, fince even thoſe which we
poffeſs in preſent, fuffer not themſelves to be entirely enjoy-
ed? here is no good which is not alloyed by fome want,
danger or imperfection. And if for the prefent they afford
fo little content, much less do they for the future, fince the
fecurity of what we poffefs is fo uncertain, that the fear of
lofing
CAP. VII.
35
the Temporal and Eternal.
lofing it often difeafons the prefent Guft. The fame fear
alſo robs our remembrance of the comfort of what is paſt,
fince we fear to loſe that moſt which we have formerly taken
moſt pleaſures in enjoying.
On all fides then the eternal goods are much more excel-
lent, unto which we ought to afpire, and ſtrive to purchaſe
them, even at the cost of all which is temporal, and in this
life as much as may be to imitate the fame eternity; the
which is to be done by the practice of thoſe three virtues,
which St. Bernard (b) recommends unto us in theſe words:
"With poverty of fpirit, with meeknefs and contrition of
"heart is renewed in the foul, a fimilitude and image of
"that eternity which embraces all times. For with poverty
"of fpirit we merit the future; with meeknefs we poffefs
"the prefent, and with the tears of repentance recover
"what is paſt." And truly he, who eſteems eternity,
ought only to exerciſe himſelf in the practiſe of thoſe three
virtues: The first by quitting with ſpiritual poverty all that
is temporal, and changing it for the eternal, not ſetting his
heart upon any thing in this life, that he may find it better-
ed in the other. For as eternity does infinitely augment
that good or evil, unto which it is annexed, fo time dimin-
ishes and draws violently after it all that is annexed to it.
Things therefore which are to finish, require not much to
leave them, and thoſe that are to end in nothing, are to be
reputed for nothing. As for the fecond virtue, a chriftian
ought with patience and meeknefs to perfift in doing well,
and in overcoming the difficulties of virtue, fince his flight
troubles in this life are to be rewarded with eternal happi-
nefs in the other. All our fufferings in this life are regales,
if compared to the fufferings of the other, who feeing hell
open, and the abyss of its evils without bottom, would not
bear with patience the rigour of penance, and with meek-
nefs fuffer the impertinency of an injury, not troubling at
all the interior peace of his foul, but attending wholly even
through fire and water to live virtuously, and pleaſe his Re-
deemer? and who looking upon Heaven, which waits for
him, will not be animated to do what is good chearfully,
and to fuffer all croffes for the Almighty's fake with fervour
and courage? Ruffinus (c) relates that a certain Monk
coming unto the abbot Aquilius, complained unto him, that
E 2
(b) Serm. 1. in feſto Om. 8anct.
(c) Ruffi. nu. 107. & Pelag. libel, 7. n. 28.
he
36
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
he found much trouble and tedioufnefs in keeping of his
cell; To whom the difcreet abbot answered, My fon, this
proceeds from not meditating on the perpetual torments we
are to fear, and upon the eternal joy and repofe, which we
hope for.
If thou fhouldeft feriously but think on that,
though thy cell were filled and fwarmed with worms and
vermin, and thou ftoodeft up to the throat in the midst of
them, yet wouldeſt thou perfevere in thy retreat without wea-
rinefs or trouble. The third virtue is with tears and grief of
foul, to endeavour a recompence for our fins paft, and to ſa-
tisfy for them with a dolorous contrition, and bitterness of
heart, that ſo the eternity of happineſs, which by them was
loft, may with repentance be regained; contrition being a
virtue fo potent, that it repairs what is ruined; and although
it is faid that what is done hath no remedy, and that there is
no power over what is paft, yet this molt powerful virtue is
able to undo what is done, and to prevail upon what is paft,
fince it takes away our fins, and makes them as if they had
never been committed.
Bure
CA P. VIII,
What it is in Eternity to have no end.
UT all thefe definitions and declarations of eternity,
are not yet fufficient to express, and truly fet forth the
greatneſs of it; neither is it well underflood, as Plotinus
notes, what the authors, who define it, thought of it. That
may he rather faid, which was faid by Simonides the philofo-
pher, who when Hieron king of Sicily (d intreated him to
decíare what thing God was, demanded a days fpace to think.
before he gave his anfwer; which paft, he faid he had need
of more time so confider it, and required other two days; at
the end of thofe he asked four: which all ended, his anſwer
was, that the more he thought upon it, the more he found
he had to think, and knew lefs how to expiefs it, and that
the further be entered into the confideration of it, the more
it hid and obfcured itself from hum. The fame may be ſaid
of eternity, the which is an abyfs fo profound, that human
(d) Cic.l. 2. de natura deorum.
under-
2
CAP. VIII.
37.
the Temporal and Eternal.
ftanding finds no footing, but hath still more to confider,
the more it ponders. St. Dionyfius the Areopagite (e) ſpeak-
ing of God, confeffes that it cannot be faid what he is, but
only what he is not, and befide what he is. In like man-
ner eternity cannot better be declared than by what it is not,
and befide what it is. Eternity is not time, it is not ſpace,
it is not an age, it is not a million of ages, but it is more
than time, ſpace or millions of ages. The life wherein
thou,now art, and which muft ſhortly have an end, is not
eternity: the health which thou at prefent enjoyeſt is not
eternal: thy pleaſures and entertainments are not eternal:
thy poffeffions, treaſures, revenues are not eternal: that
wherein thou truſteſt is not eternal: the goods of this world,
in which thou ſo much delighteſt, are not eternal. Thou
muſt leave them all. A far greater thing is eternity: above
kingdoms, above empires, and above all felicities. Where-
upon Lactantius (f) and other authors, not being able to
declare it by what it is, declare it by what it is not; ſome
faying it is that which hath no end: others that which en-
dures no change others that which holds no comparison:
which is as much as to fay, it is that which is unlimited,
immutable, and not proportionable with any thing befides
itſelf. It ſhall fuffice therefore to declare, and as it were
anatomize these three conditions of eternity, if not to give a
perfect knowledge of what it is, yet at leaſt to beget a fear
and reverence of that which most concerns us, and withal to
create in us a contempt and fcorn of all which is temporal,
as being little, limited and mutable.
§. 2.
For the first condition, which is to have no end; C-farius
fays (g), that eternity is a day, which wants an evening,
becauſe it fhall never fee the fun of its brightneſs fet, which
is to be underſtood of the eternity of faints; that of finners
being a night which wants morning, upon whom the fun
of glory never fhall arife: wherein the damned fhall remain
in perpetual fadneſs and obſcurity, eternally tormented both
in foul and body. If he who is fick of a calenture, though
laid upon a foft and downy bed, thinks each hour of night
(e) De Myft. Theo.
(f) Lact. de falfarel. lib. 1. c. 2.
(g) Cef. dialog. 3•
an
38
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
an age, and every minute expects and with impatience.
wishes for the day, how fhali it fare with thofe, who, becauſe
in this life they flept when they were to watch, fhall in the
next lie awake for an eternal night in a bed of burning fire,
without ever hoping for a morning? And certainly if there
were in Hell no other pain, than to live in that eternal
night and ſadneſs, it were enough to aſtoniſh and confound
all human understanding. This very condition of wanting
an end, the ancients deciphered by the figure of a ring,
which becauſe a circle, is endless. But with great mystery,
David calls it a crown, whofe roundneſs alfo admits no end;
thereby fignifying according to Dionyfius Carthufianus, that
an eternity without end is either to be the reward of our
good works, or the puniſhment of our bad. We ought to
tremble at the found of this voice, without end, for them
who do ill; and to rejoice at this, without end, for them
who do well. It falls not under our capacity, what it is to
be without end. We cannot amplify it or exaggerate it fo
much, but that whatfoever we fay we ftill fall fhort. Where-
fore St. Bonaventure (h) pondering with himſelf in his me-
ditations upon Hell, that if a damned perfon fhould every
hundred years let fall but only one fmall tear, and thoſe all
to be preſerved until that after innumerable centuries of
years they came to equal the fea, would perhaps ſo many
hundreds millions of years be thought to finish eternity?
No: it would but then begin. Let them turn again and
keep the ſame flow tears of that unfortunate finner, untill
they have fill'd another ocean. Would eternity then end?
No; but then begin, as freſh and new as at the firſt day.
Let them repeat the fame ten, twenty, an hundred times,
until an hundred thouſand feas fhall fill and overflow. Shall
we then find the bottom or eternity? No; we have not
paſt the ſuperficies of it, and it ſhall ſtill remain as deep and
unfoundable as at firſt. There are no numbers, no arith-
metick, that can comprehend the years of eternity. For if
the whole Heavens were parchment, and filled on both fides
with numbers, they could not fum up the leaft part of that,
which hath no parts at all, but is in itſelf whole, entire, and
indivifible. No fea hath fo many drops, no mountain fo
many grains of fand, as will ſerve to reckon up the years of
eternity.
}
(h) Bonav. de inf. c. 49.
To
CAP. VIII.
39
the Temporal and Eternal.
To declare this more amply, I fhall relate what happened
unto Archimedes. There were fome philofophers of his time.
who affirmed that the number of the fands of the fea were
infinite; others that although they were in themſelves finite
yet they could not be comprehended under any number.
Archimedes, that he might confute both opinions, compoſed
a moſt learned and ingenious book, which he dedicated un-
to king Gelon; wherein he proved, that although the world
were all filled with fand, and that it were bigger than what
it is, yet that the multitude of thofe grains of fand were 'i-
mited, and might alfo be reduced under numbers; and he
himself gave the account, to what number they would arife.
Since this philofopher, father Clavius did the like; compu-
ting how many grains of fand would fill the whole fpace be-
twixt the firmanent of the fixed ftars and the earth, making
every grain of fand fo little and indivifible, that he allows
10,000 of them unto the bigneſs of a poppy, or muſtard-
feed, and notwithſtanding fums up this vaft number within
the ſhort ſpace of one line, all not furpaffing one unite, and
51 cyphers. If then fo many millions of millions may be
contained in the length of one line, what ſhall we fay of the
infinite years in eternity: fince that not only one line, nor
one book, nor all the paper in the world, nor all the world
from the firmament downwards filled with the figures of
arithmetick, were fufficient to contain one little particle of
it, notwithſtanding the multiplication which is tnade by the
adding of every figure? Every cypher which is added,
makes the number ten times more than it was, becauſe a
cypher put after one unite makes it ten, the fecond cypher
makes it one hundred, the third one thouſand, and in this
manner the numbers go multiplying to an iminenſe number
in a few figures. Whereby one may conceive that adding
one hundred cyphers, it makes the numbers rife to fuch a
pitch, that it far exceeds the capacity of man's imagination
to conceive it. What then would it be, adding fo many
cyphers as could be contained in a parchment as big as the
whole Heaven? Yet all this innumerable number does not
equal the least particle of eternity; which after ſo many
numberless years paſt, which at length after how long a time
foever muſt meet at end, would yet remain as if it did but
then begin. Let us ſeriouſly think how long were that life
to be eſteemed, which fhould contain arı hundred thouſand
years; yet we have thought of nothing in refpect of eter-
nity.
40
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
nity. Let us think of ten times, an hundred, a thouſand
times as much: ftill nothing to eternity, neither have we
quitted the least part of it, which is but then beginning.-
Wherefore Lactantius faith (i), With what years fhall we
fatiate eternity, fince it hath no end? It is still beginning,
and nothing but a beginning, and therefore may not unfig-
nificantly be thus defined: Eternity is a perpetual beginning,
which fill continues without end or diminution. Let us ab-
ftract from eternity as many years as there are drops in the
fea; atoms in the air, leaves in the fields, grains of fand
in the earth, or ftars in the heavens, it will yet continue
whole and entire. Add as many years unto it, it becomes
no greater, nor is further diftant from its end; fince it ad-
mits none, but in each point and inftant receives a begin-
ning. Never, never fhall it have an end, ever, ever in be-
ginning. Let one imagine, that there were a mountain of
fand which fhould reach from the earth to heaven, and that
an angel after every thoufand years fhould take from it one
only grain; how many thoufands of thousands of years, and
millions of millions would pafs before that mountain became
fo little, that it would no longer remain perceptible? Let the
beſt arithmetician that is, caft up the account, how many
years would paſs, before that angel had taken away half of
the aforefaid mountain. This feems a thing endleſs; but
our underſtanding is beguiled; for it would have an end,
and time would come when one half, and even the whole
mountain would be taken away. Finally, there would be a
time, when there would be one only little grain remaining ;
and this alfo would be removed. But never fhall we come
to the end of eternity: and after the confuming of that whole
mountain of fand, nothing would be diminished from eter-
nity but the mountain of eternity would remain as entire,
after millions of millions of ages were paft, as in the begin-
ning, after the confuming millions of fuch mountains, the
torments of the damned will be as entire, flaming and vehe-
ment, as at the beginning. This feems to have been figni-
" The mountains
fied by that of Abucuch, when he laid,
"of ages are torn in pieces: and the hills of the world ſhall
"be humbled by the ways of eternity;" becauſe one thou-
fand hills and mountains as big as the whole world, may
confumed a thousand times over, whilft the eternity of the
puniſhment of finners pats over them: which eternity can
:
(i) Lib. 1. de falfa relig. c. 12.
he
never
CAP. VIII.
41
the Temporal and Eternal.
never make an end of paffing; fo that thofe miferable fouls,
who fuffer in that devouring fire, fhall fuffer a thouſand and
a thouſand, and millions of millions of years, without com-
ing nearer to the end, than they were the first day.
§. 2.
upon one fide refting be-
What man would endure to lie
fore a scorching fire, for the space of a whole year? But
what ſpeak I of lying burning? Who could endure to be
laid in a foft bed upon one fide, without being permitted to
rife or turn unto the other fide for the fame ſpace? This
indeed was a rigorous penance performed by Ezechiel the
prophet, at the commandment of God, who appointed him,
that he ſhould continue laid upon one fide without rifing,
for the ſpace of 390 days. This was a moft rigorous pe-
nance, but by divine grace accomplished by the holy pro-
phet. If it be then fo difficult to lie immoveable upon one
fide for ſo ſhort a time, as the ſpace of one year, what ſhall
it be for a condemned finner to lie ftretched upon a bed of
fire in that eternal night and ſadneſs of hell, all forts of evils
raining down upon him for a time without end or limit
What chriftian is there, who fhould confider and frame a
lively conceit of this, but would become another man? who
could take delight in a momentary pleaſure of this life, run-
ning the danger of thofe eternal pains in the next? who
would dare to fin at the hazard of fo great a punishment?
O how powerful a remedy were it against the difordered
cuſtoms of finners, if they would but fettle themſelves feri-
oufly to think that eternity hath no end, that it is to laft for
ever. O that they would think upon this one half hour in
a day, or but fo much in a week, how quickly would they
amend their lives. But this is a thought not to be paſt over
in haſte, but leiſurely pondered with attention, and profound
confideration, meditating within ourſelves what eternity is:
that it is that which fhall never have an end, never, never.
For as that meat which is not chewed, nor concocted in the
ſtomach benefits nothing, fo the thought of eternity with-
out being well ruminated and digeſted, will little advantage
us.
The force of this confideration, appears by an accident
related by Benedictus Renatus (k), of a certain man vain
(k) Benedict. Renat. lib. 5.
and
f
}
42
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
and vicious, named Fulk; who, as he was given to all forts.
of pleaſure and delicacy, would be fure not to want a ſoft
bed, and a large repofe. But one night his fleep failing him,
toffing and turning from fide to fide, de firing every moment
that day would break, whilft he lay thus awake, this thought
came into his confideration, What wouldeft thou take to lie
in this manner for the face of two or three years in conti-
nual darkness, without converfation of friends, or entertain-
ment of thy pleaſures? certainly although thou ſhouldeſt le
at thy eaſe, and upon a foft bed, as thou now doſt, yet the
trouble would be intolerable. But know that thou art not to
depart fo cheap out of this life; thou art not to eſcape hence
at thy own choice; at the beſt that can happen, thou art to
lie languishing in thy death-bed, where thou art to paſs
many evil and tedious nights, unleſs perchance thou die
fuddenly, which will be worſe, and when thou leaveſt that
bed and dyeſt, doft thou know what bed ſhall then expect
thee? what couch death had provided for thee? thy body
certainly fhall lie upon the hard and cold earth, and be de
voured by worms; but concerning the foul, what fhall be-
come of it? knoweft thou whither it fhall go? affuredly ac-
cording to thy prefent life, it fhall go to Hell, where a terri
ble bed of fire awaits thee, not for a year or two, but for a
whole eternity. There thou art to continue in perpetual
darkness and torments, where a thoufand, thoufand, milli-
ons of years, are not fufficient to fatisfy for one of thy un-
lawful pleaſures. There fhalt thou fee no Sun, nor
Heaven, nor God. Ay me, Ay miferable me, if this poor
want of fleep be fo hard to be endured, how fhall I fuffer the
eternal torments of hell? that which now imports me, is to
change my courfe of life; for in this way I now go, I am
loft for ever: Thefe confiderations made fo deep an impref
fion in his mind of eternity, that he could not quit the
thought of it, until he had refolved to become a religious
man, but would often fay with himſelf, What doeſt thou
here miferable man? thou liveft in the world, and the world
affords thee no comfort: thou fuffereft many things, which
thou would'ſt as willingly avoid, and wanteſt others, which
thou would'ſt as wilingly enjoy. Thou molefted thyself
with the cares of this life, and what reward attends thee for
all thy trouble? thou enjoyeft no compleat pleaſures; and if
thou didst, it would not laft. See'st thou not daily thofe
who die, and enter into eternity? O eternity, eternity, if
thou
CAP. VIII.
43
the Temporal and Eternal.
thou bee'st not in Heaven, wherefoever thou art, even in
this foft bed, thou art grievous. I will therefore endeavour
to affure Heaven, and for a little, will not lofe much, nor
for what is temporal, the eternal: and fo putting in execu-
tion what he had refolved upon, he entered a religious per-
fon into the order of the Ciftercians.
§. 4.
All our actions are ftill to be accompanied with this
thought, For ever. For ever ſhall be rewarded that which I
do well; and that for ever punished, if I grievously offend.
With this confideration, ſhall a chriftian not only animate
himself to do good works, but to do them well. Elianus (1)
writes of Imenias, embaffador from the Thebans, unto the
king of Perfsa, that being about to deliver his embaffage,
and advertiſed, that before he spake a word, he was to a-
dore the king, Ifmenias thinking this honour too much to be
beſtowed upon a barbarous prince, yet feeing no ways to
avoid it, fell upon this devife. He took his ring, which an-
ciently was of great efteem, as fignifying the quality, and
authority of him that wore it, and pulling it from his finger,
let it fecretly fall at the king's feet, whilft he lay proftrate
before them, faying within himfell, Not unto thee, but to
this ring If we in like manner ſhould in all our actions,
propoſe unto ourselves eternity, and wholly reſpect it, we
fhould find little difficulty in any good work we went about.
Let us therefore fix our eyes and thoughts upon it, which
is to be given us for that which may be done in a moment.
Bleffed be God, who bestows upon us a reward without end
for troubles fo fhort, that they fcarcely have a beginning.
Euripides, a famous poet amongst the Greeks, complained v
upon a time, that in three whole days, he had made but
three verſes, and thoſe not without trouble. Alceftides, ano-
ther poet prefent, anfwered, For me one day is fufficient to
make an hundred verfes, and that with cafe. Euripides then
replied, It is no marvel, fince thy verfes are but for three
days, and mine are for ever. In the fame manner Zeuxis
a molt excellent painter, but above all meaſure flow, being
demanded why he was fo tedious in his work, anſwered, I
paint leifurely, becauſe I paint for ever. But certainly he
deceived himſelf; for at this day there is no picture of his
F 2
(1) Lib. 1. Var. Hift. ca. 21.
to
44
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
works are loft.
Neither have we
For one act of
to be ſeen: and for Euripides, many of his
But no good work of the juft fhall perish.
need ſo much as of a day to gain eternity.
contrition, which is made in a moment does it, and in a mo-
ment we gain thoſe joys, which fhall endure without end.
Yet ought we to make uſe of this confideration of Euripides
and Zeuxis, and not only to do good works, but to do them.
ſeriouſly and perfe&ly well, fince we work not for this life,
but for eternity, which ought ever to be in our memory.
if
The benefit which David reaped by this confideration,
was a firm reſolution to mend his life, and change into a
new man, animating himſelf to a greater obfervance, and a
more high perfection. And fo in that Pfalm, wherein he
fays, That he thought upon the days of old, and the years
of eternity, he adds immediately the effect of his meditation
faying, That he was to begin anew, becauſe the change.
which he found in his heart, he perceived was from the moſt
powerful hand of God. Wherefore confidering that eterni-
ty never ends, but ſtill begins, and that it is wholly a begin-
ning, he determined with fuch new fervour, to give a be
ginning to a more perfect life, that he would never flagg,
or be difmayed in the profecution of it; willing in this to
imitate eternity, which as it is ever beginning, fo he would
ever begin to deferve it. And what greater matter is it,
that, which we are to enjoy or fuffer, be ever in beginning,
that we ſhould likewife be ever beginning, either to deſerve
the one or flie the other? Our reward is not to fail us: and
therefore there is no reaſon why we fhould fail, and grow
weary in our ſervice and endeavours. Our joy is ever to
begin: Why fhould not then our endeavours be ever in be-
ginning? The repofe we hope for, fhall never have an end;
Why ſhould then our defervings ever ceale? With this
confideration, St. Arfenius much profited himself, making
account, that although he had ferved God many years in a
moft holy life, yet that he did but then begin, repeating oft,
en that ſpeech of David, Now I begin, Now I begin. We
ought never to lock back upon our labours pait, but ſtill to
animate ourſelves to labour new for God and his fervice:
as did the apoſtle St. Paul, who fays of himself (m), That
he did forget what was paft, that he did enlarge his heart
and mind, extending it for that which was to come; which
the apostle ipake in a time when he had fuffered much, and
(m) Philip. 3. Vide Mafuet. in vita St. Pauli.
done
CAP. VIII.
45
the Temporal and Eternal.
done ſuch ſervices unto God in the good of fouls, as he had
already laboured more than all the apoftles. After he had
entered into the Synagogues of Damafcus, and publickly
preached Jefus Chrift, with fo evident danger of his life, that
if he had not escaped over the walls of the city, he had been
cut in a thouſand pieces: After that in Arabia, he had con-
verted many people, many in Tarfus, and in Antioch: After
he had been wrapp'd up into the third Heaven: After that
he had been elected by the Holy Ghoſt to be an apoſtle, and
wrought great and prodigious miracles: After that he had
paffed over Afia Minor, all Greece, and the better part of
Europe, converting innumerable fouls: After he had diſtri-
buted great alms, gathering them with much labour, made
long journeys, and brought them unto the poor in Jerufa-
lem: After the fuffering of innumerable perfecutions: After
having been thrice ftoned, and once left for dead: After
having been often whipp'd, and often apprehended: After
infinite fervices performed for the church: After all theſe it
ſeemed unto him, that he had fuffered nothing, done no-
thing for Chrift, and he forgot it all, as if it had been the
first day of his converfion, determining ſtill to do more, to
fuffer more, to labour more, to begin anew, eſteeming him-
felf after ſo many labours and fervices, to be an uſeleſs and
an unprofitable fervant, following the counfel of our Savi
our, when he fays (n), "After you have done all what I
"have commanded you to do, fay, ye are unprofitable fer-
"vants, and that ye have done what ye ought have done.”
Let a man compare his labours, his zeal, his preaching, his
charity with that of the apoftle, and he will find that he hath
not yet begun. If then the apoſtle, who at that time ex-
ceeded the merits of divers faints, who have died in great
holiness, and yet forgot all, judging he had done nothing,
but turned to begin, afresh we who have not yet begun,
wherefore fhall we be weary before we begin? let us ever
begin anew, fince eternity which we hope for is ever to be
new, and ever to begin. "Let us not glory, faith Diony-
fius Carthufianus, in the merits of our life paft: neither
let us efteen ourselves for any thing we have already
done, but let us beftir ourſelves as freshly, and with as
much fervour, as if we did but that day begin, and were
❝ that day alſo to die.”
C
(n) Luke 17.
CAP.
The Difference betwixt
LIB. I.
CA P. IX.
How Eternity is without change.
HE fecond condition of eternity is to be immutable,
and to perſevere without change: which the ancients
gave us to underſtand by many moit myfterious fymbols.
Some figured it by painting of a chair; conformable unto
which the prophet Ifaiah faith (o), That he faw the Lord
fitting on high upon a throne, fetting forth in this fettled
poſture the immutability and greatnefs of his eternity. And
St. John in his Apocalyps, often celebrates the feat of God,
as repreſenting his eternal duration. More clearly the pro-
phet Daniel (p), unto whom God vouchfafed to appear as
he was eternal; whereupon he calls him the ancient of days,
and fays he beheld him with his hair all white, and feated
upon a throne. From the fame confideration the Nafamones,
a certain people of Affrick, when any amongst them was
about to die, caufed him to fit, and in that poſture to expire,
fignifying thereby the eftate wherein his foul was preſently
to enter. And for the fame cauſe they interred their dead
fitting; giving us thereby to underſtand, that reſt and repoſe
were not to be fought for until death, when we were to en-
ter the gates of eternity. This life is no place to fit in; we
are not here to ſtay; the mifery which we find in it fuffici-
ently declares, that God made it not for that purpoſe. This
life is but lent us, we are not to abide in it, but to walk a.
pace unto the mountain of eternity. It is fo miferable, that
even itſelf informs us of another life, wherein we fhall find
reft, fince here we cannot meet it. In Heaven all our un-
happineſs, all our miferies are to ceafe; there the tears of
this valley are to be wiped from our eyes; there our troubles
are to find cafe; there the unquietnefs of our hearts is to
have repoſe. In this world no manner of life, no fort of eſ-
tate, no condition of man, no greatneſs of dignity, no abun
dance of riches, no felicity of fortune can ever give reft unto
the poffeffor. For this reafon the Romans in the ſtatues,
which they erected to their deceaſed emperors, made them
(p) Dan. 7.
(0) Iſaiah. 6.
Atill
CAP. IX.
47
the Temporal and Eternal.
ftill fitting; whereby they would fignify, that all the felicity
of this world could not beſtow true reft, and even upon him
who was the maſter of it until the end of life. Man is born,
as fob faith, to labour. Until death there is no reft. Let
us not then feek it here, but let us place the chair of our
joys where it may be firm and ſtaple, and not in the unqui-
etnefs and turmoyls of things temporal, where death at leaſt
will certainly overthrow it.
Others painted eternity in the form of a fnake; to note
the condition of a perpetual continuance not fubje& unto
change, but remaining fill in the fame eftate and vigour.
For as this ferpent wants wings, feet and hands, which are
the extremities of other creatures: fo eternity wants an end,
which is the extremity of things temporal (q). Moreover as
ferpents, although without feet, wings, or any extrinsical
organ of motion, yet by their great liveliness of fpirit move
more ſwiftly than thoſe creatures which have them: fo eter-
nity without days or nights, or changes, which are the feet
and wings of time, out-ftrips and over goes all things that
are temporal. Befides, ferpents enjoy fuch a vivacity and
length of life, that Philo Biblius faith, they die not, unleſs
they be killed, and that they hardly know a natural death,
being not ſubject to thofe changes of other creatures, from
youth to age, and from health to ficknefs, but preſerve
themſelves till freſh and young by the often renewing and
cafting of their old ſkins; neither have they like other crea-
tures any determinate fize of their greatness, but fo long as
they live encreaſe in bigness after the manner of eternity,
which hath no limit, change, or declination; a condition
of all others moſt to be feared by the wicked, who are for
ever to continue in thofe eternal torments without the leaft
refreſhment, and without fo much as the comfort of chang-
ing one torment for another. St. Paulinus faid of St. Mar-
tin, that his reft was to change his labours: and certainly
to change one pain for another, although not in itſelf much
lefs, is yet fome eaſe. But even this ſhall be wanting unto
the damned, who fhall never be permitted fo much change,
as to turn from one fide to another. A fearful thing that
being now five thousand years past, fince the first damned
foul was plunged into hell, that during all this time no
change fhould afford him the leaft eafe. How many alter-
ations have fince happened in this world, yet none in his
(q) Apud Eufeb. 1. 1. de præpar. Evang. c. 7.
moft
48
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
•
moſt bitter torments. The world hath once been destroyed
by an univerfal deluge, eight only perfons remaining alive.
After which all men enjoying an equal liberty, the Affyrians
became tyrants over the reft, and raiſed the first monarchy,
which endured 1240 years, and then not without the general
uproar and turmoyl of all Afia, paffed unto the Medes, unto
whom it continued 300 years. Which ended, it came unto
the Perfians; and from them unto the Grecians, from
whom, not without greater alteration than any of the for-
mer, it paffed unto the Romans; under whom alſo it hath
fince failed. Amongst all which changes and revolutions.
of the world, none hath yet paffed over that miferable and
unfortunate creature. Befides thefe alterations in govern-
-ment, what alterations hath nature itſelf ſuffered? what
islands hath the fea fwallowed up? one of which, as Plato
reports, was bigger than all Europe and Africa: And what
others hath it caft up of new. What buildings, or to fay
better, what mountains hath the earthquakes left fecure?
many hills have been over-whelmed, or turned toply turvy;
others have appeared and fprung up never known before.
What cities have been funk? what rivers dried up and
others vomited forth through new channels ? what towers
have not fallen? what walls not been ruined? what monu-
ments not defaced? how often hath the face of things chan-
ged? how many revolutions have the greateſt kingdoms.
fuffered and this miferable finner hath in all this time not
given one turn. How many times hath the year renewed
itself? how many fprings? how many autumns paft? how
many days? how many nights? and yet he remains in that
obfcure night, as in his first entrance into that place of tor-
ments. The fun hath compaffed this elementary world a
million, and 700000 times; and yet this wretched foul could
never once change his pofure, or remove one pace fince
his first falling into hell. Befides this, what troubles, what
labours have been paffed by thofe innumerable people, who
have lived from the beginning of the world until this pre-
fent, and are now all vanished? what fickneffes have been
fuffered? what torments, what griefs endured, and are now
forgotten? but no grief nor torment of that unfortunate
finner hath in thefe 500 years paffed away, or ſhall ever
become lefs. Ptolomy roared out with the pain of his gout;
Ariftarcus was grieved with his dropfy; Cambyfes was afflic-
ted with his falling-ſickneſs; Thcopompus affli&ed with his
pthifick;
CAP. IX.
49
the Temporal and Eternal.
pthifick; Tobias with his blindness, and holy Fob with his
leprofy: yet thofe griefs had their end. But all thoſe evils
which jointly poffefs this miferable creature, have not, or
ever fhall have change or period. They of Rabatba were
fawed in the middle: others thraſhed to death with flails:
others burned alive in furnaces: others torn in pieces by
wild beafts. Anaxarcus was pounded in a mortar, Perillus
burned in a brazen bull. But all thofe pains paffed away,
and are now no more: but that damned perſon hath not yet
made an end; or to fay better, hath not yet begun to pats
any one of his torments, which 100000 years hence fhall be
as new and fenfible unto him, as they were in the begin-
ning. What defperation must then feize upon him, when
he fees a change in all things, and in his pains and torments
none: for if even the pleaſures of this life, if continued the
fame convert into griefs, how ſhall thofe pains, which never
change, be ſuffered? what ſpite and madneſs fhall poffefs
him, when he shall behold the flames of St. Lawrence, the
ſtripes of St. Clement of Ancira, the croſs of St. Andrew, the
fafts of St. Hilarion, the hair cloth of Simeon Stylites, the
difciplines of St. Dominick, all the torments of martyrs and
penances of confeffors now paffed, and turned into eternal
joys: but his own pains neither to pass nor change, neither
any hopes left either of ending his torments or himſelf?
Theſe are evils to be feared, and not thofe tranfitory ones of
the world, which either change, grow lefs or end, or at leaſt
make an end of him who fuffers them. Let not therefore
the fick perfon be grieved and vexed with his infirmities, nor
the poor man with his wants, nor the afflicted with his crof
fes, fince the evils of this life are either changed with time,
eaſed by counſel and confolations, or at least ended by death.
But this miferable wretch in hell cannot fo much as comfort
himſelf with the hope of dying, becauſe in that multitude of
torments, if there were the leaft hope of end, it would be
fome eaſe, fome refreſhment which must not there happen,
the gates on all fides being fhut against comfort. Hope be-
guiles us in our evils, and in fome fort frees us from the fenſe
of fuffering. There is no labour or toil fo great, which
hope makes not tolerable. The moſt afflicted and wretched
perfons live and fubfift with expectation, that one day their
mileries will change or end. But that cafe and comfort is
denied the damned, whofe unhappineſs is never to have an
end, nor their torments alteration. They would efteem it
G
for
50
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
for a comfort, if a thousand years hence they might be fure
of that little drop of water begged by the rich glution: But
what speak I of a thousand years? if after an hundred thou-
fand, after a thousand times fo many, fo that fome certain
time were prefixed, and the door but of fome fmall hope fet
open unto them. If all the ſpace, which is taken up by the
earth, covered by the water, filled with the air, and encom-
paffed by the heavens, were full of grains of wheat: And a
damned foul were told, that after all that wheat were eaten
by fome final bird, which after every hundred thouſand
years fhould come to take one grain, and when it ſhould
have taken away the laft, they would give it that drop of
water which was demanded by the affiſtance of Lazarus, it
would be comforted to fee this only change, and fo ſmall
an eaſe in the midst of his pains. Yet it fall not have
this; and alter fo many millions of millions of years, the
miferable wretch fhall be in the fame torments, raging in
the ſame manner, and as much void of all comfort as
ever. This is what ſhall burſt the hearts of the damned,
when they ſhall perceive all remedies to be then impoffible,
which in this life were fo eaſy to be obtained. With the
crumbs of bread which fell from his table, the rich glutton
might have purchaſed eternal happiness; and now the re-
freſhment of one drop of water is denied him. What ran-
cour ſhall they have against themſelves; when they fhall re-
member that by the forbearance of one momentary pleaſure
they might have escaped eternal torments. How raging
will their very entrails be to confider, that that is now paft
help, which was heretofore ſo eaſily to be avoided.
Let therefore a chriſtian open his eyes, and whilft he may
remedy that, which hereafter, when he would, will be im-
poffible. Now is the time acceptable, now is the time of
falvation, now is the time of pardon and indulgence, now
that may be gained in a moment, which all eternity cannot
hereafter redeem. What other thing was fignified unto us
by the flames of the Babylonian furnace (r), which, as the
fcripture faith, mounted unto the height of forty nine cu-
bits? It doth not fay, fifty, as is uſual in other places to give
the compleat number, although fome be wanting. And
who, I pray you, approached fo near unto that flame which
flew and moved up and down in the air, that could fo punc-
tually meaſure the height of it to ariſe juſt unto forty nine
(r) Dan. 3.
cubits,
CA P. IX.
51
the Temporal and Eternal.
cubits, and not to reach fifty? But herein was the mystery,
which we are about to ſpeak of. The number of fifty was
the number of the Jubilee, and fignified indulgence and
pardon, and by the flames of that furnace were figured the
flames of Hell which how far foever they fhall exceed the
torments of this life, yet fhall never attain unto a Jubilee,
and remiffion of their pains. Now, tis true they may:
Now every year, every month, every day, every hour, and
every moment is a time of pardon and Jubilee. What would
a damned foul give for one quarter of an hour of thoſe
whole days and weeks, which men mifpend in this life, for
to be able to do penance in. Let us therefore be prodi-
gal of a thing fo precious; let us not lofe time, and with it
eternal glory. The time of this life is fo precious, that St.
Bernardin dares give it this exaggeration, faying, That time
is worth as much as God; becauſe by it God is gained. Let
us not therefore fling away a thing of that value, but let us
make uſe of this cheap bargain, purchafing with time eter
nity, and God himfelf the Lord of eternity: fulfilling that
which was faid by Ecclefiafticus (s): "Is there any who
"for a finall price will redeem many things?" Upon which
words Galfridus (t) fays, "If there be due unto thee eter
nal bitterness, and thou mayeft efcape it by fuffering
"what is temporal, certainly thou haft redeemed great
"matters for a Imall price." In bleffings eternal, it is like-
wiſe a great comfort to have them free from change, ſo as
they can neither end nor diminiſh; and that temporal goods
changing and confuming themſelves, they remain in the
fame firm and ſtaple condition for all eternity. Let a chrif-
tian compare the brevity and inconftancy of the things of
this life with the immutability, and eternal duration of thofe
of the other. Let him feriously obſerve the difference be-
twixt thoſe two words, Now and Ever. The fools of this
world fay, Let us now rejoice; The wife and virtuous fay,
it is better that we forbear our pleaſures now, that we may
hereafter enjoy eternal happineſs. The worldlings fay, Let
us now live daintily and fare deliciously: The fervants of
Chriſt ſay, Let us now die in the flesh that we may live for
ever without change. The finners fay, Let us now enjoy
the world: They who fear God fay, Let us fly from this
unſtable world, that we may for ever enjoy the celeſtial.
G 2
Compare
(3) Eccl. 20.
(t) Galfrid. in Cant.
52
The Difference betwixt
L. I B. I
Compare these two, and fee who are the wifer; thofe who
aim only at that which endures but this momentary inftant
Now, or those who look after eternity, which lafts for ever;
thoſe who ſhall fuffer eternally without any profit at all, or
thoſe who are content to fuffer a little in this world for fo
great a gain, as is the kingdom of Heaven. O moſt miſ-
erable and difconfolate life of the damned! who are neither
to have end in their torments, change in their griefs, nor
to reap profit by the pains which they fuffer. Three things
only afford us comfort in the troubles of this life, that either
they may end, or become more fupportable by change, or
at leaſt that we ſhall be recompenfed by fome benefit for our
fufferance; all which will fail in eternal pains, in which
there is no hope either of end, change or profit. A fearful
miſtake to fuffer for a whole eternity without benefit hereat-
ter, for not fuffering a moment now, with fo great a reward
as in the eternal glory of God, and kingdom of Heaven.
CA P. X.
How Eternity is without comparifen.
Ford quite of eternity,
com.
ROM what is already spoken, may be collected the
third quality of eternity, which is to be without com-
parifon. For as there is no compariſon betwixt what is in-
finite and what is finite, fo there can be none betwixt what
is eternal and what is temporal. And as the mountain
Olympus (or if any greater in the world) is as far diſtant
from the immenfity of God, as the smallest grain of fand,
fo a thousand years are as far fhort of eternity as the twink-
ling of an eye. Wherefore Boetius fays, that there is more
2
fimilitude betwixt a moment of time and ten thouſand
years, than betwixt ten thousand years and eternity. There
is no expreffion which can fufficiently fet forth the greatness.
of what is eternal, nor which can explicate the brevity of
time and littleness of what is temporal. Wherefore David
(u) when he confidered what had paffed fince God created
the world until his time calls all thofe ages, which were al-
ready paſt, by the name of days, faying, I thought upon the
(u) Plal. 76.
days
CAP. X.
53
the Temporal and Eternal.
days of old. And it is not much that he fhould call ages
days, when in another place he fays, a thousand years in
the preſence of God are but as yeſterday which has paffed.
And St. John (x) expreffes it yet more fully, when he calls
all thole years which were to paſs betwixt his time and the
end of the world, whereof 1000 are already run but an
hour. But David, when he fet himſelf feriouſly to think
upon eternity, which in itself is but one, and as the faints
fpeak, one day, he calls it eternal years, augmenting as
much as he could the conception of eternity, and diminiſh-
ing that of time. For the fame reafon the prophet Daniel,
fetting forth the glory of apoftolical perfons, fpeaks in the
plural number. That they shall fbine like ftars, for perpetual
eternities; it feeming unto him, that the ordinary number
did not ſuffice to declare what eternity was: and therefore
explicates it by the number of many eternities, adding for
more amplification the epithet of perpetual (y). But endea
your we never ſo much, we declare nothing of it. Let the
prophets turn themſelves wholly into tongues, let them call
it perpetual eternities; let them call it eternity of eternities;
let them call it many days; let them call it ages of ages;
all falls ſhort to explicate the infinite duration which it hath.
Wherefore Eliu fpeaking of God (z), fays his years were
inestimable, becauſe no years imaginable could compare
with his eternity. Betwixt a minute and 100000 years there
is proportion: but betwixt 100000 years and eternity, none
at all. Well may a quarter of an hour be compared unto a
million of years, but a million of years with eternity holds
no compariſon, in refpect of which, all time vanishes and
diſappears: neither is a million of years more than a mo-
ment, fince neither have proportion with eternity, but in
refpect of it are both equal, or (to fay better) are both no-
thing. Wherefore the wife man ſaid (a), “That if a
man had lived many years, and thoſe all in pleaſure, yet
"ought he to remember the time of darkneſs, and the
66
many days, (for ſo he calls eternity) which when they
"thall come, all that is paſt will be found to be vanity.'
If Cain had lived and enjoyed all the felicity of the earth,
even until this day, and at the inftant he died, what fhould be
now poffefs of all his delights? What ſhould remain unto
him of all his days paft? Certainly no more than remained
2.
(z) Job. 36.
(x) 1 John 2.
(y) Dan. 12.
(a) Eccl. 11.
unto.
54
LIB. I,
The Difference betwixt
unto his brother Abel, whom he murdered more than 5500
years ago; equally had both their days difappeared, and
Cain had no more left of his fports and pleafures, fo fully
and for fo long a time enjoyed, than Abel of his ſhort life,
but more to ſuffer in that time of darkness, and the many
days of eternity. For if, as Ecclefiafticus faith (b), The
evils of one hour make many pleaſures to be forgotten, and the
moment wherein a man dies bereaves him of all he did in
life either for delight or appetite, why fhall not then the tor-
ments of Hell make him forget all the pleaſures of the earth,
and the eternity of evils ftrip him of a few and momentary
paftimes? If with the grief of one hour, the pleaſures of
many years are forgotten, why fhall not the pleaſure of one
moment, for which thou falleft into Hell, be forgotten with
the malice of many years? And if the inftant of thy bodily
death deprive thee of all thy vain contents and entertain-
ments paſt, what ſhall be done by the eternal death of thy
foul? In that inſtant, wherein Heliogabolus died, what con-
tinued with him of all his fports and delights? Nothing.
At this prefent, after fo many years meaſured in the eternity
of Hell, what now remains with him but torments upon tor-
ments, griefs upon griefs, pains upon pains, evils upon
evils, and a perpetual Woe is me, which ſhall laſt as long as
God is God? The moment wherein we die (as touching
the things of this life) makes all men equal. He who lived
long, and he who died ſhortly: he who enjoyed much, and
he who had but little he who was glutted with all forts of
delights, and he who was fed with the bread of forrow, and
vexed with all forts of griefs and misfortunes, all are now
the fame, all are ended in death; the one is not fenfible of
his pleaſure, nor the other grieved with his labours. After
the expiration of an hundred years in a moft rigid life, what
felt St. Romualdus of all his aufterities? What the moſt
nitent Simeon Stylites, after four fcore years of a prodigious
penance, wherein he quitted not his hair-fhirt by day or
night? What felt he at his death of his continual fafts and
long prayers? Certainly of pain no more, than if he had
fpent all that long time in the wanton pleaſures of Sardan-
apalus. Of griefs he found nothing, but of joy and glory
he now does, and ever ſhall in abundance. What felt St.
Clement of Ancira, of his twenty-eight years torments, fuf-
fered by the furious rage and madneſs of tyrants? Certainly
:
(b) Eccl. 11.
pe-
of
CAP. X.
X
the Temporal and Eternal.
55
of pain no more, than if during that time he had enjoyed
all the delights of the world, but of glory and eternity. For
if the malice of one hour make the contents of an hundred
years to be forgotten, much more will the happinefs of an
eternity blot out the remembrance of 28 years fufferance.
O prodigious moment of death, which gives an end unto
all that is temporal, and a beginning to all that is eternal;
which tranfmits and changes all things; which concludes
the gufts and pleaſures of finners, and begins their tor-
ments; which ends the labours and aufterities of faints, and
begins their glory and joys eternal.
Let therefore a chriſtian ſeriouſly confider, that the plea-
fures by which he fins, and the mortifications by which he
fatisfies, are equally to have an end: and that the torments
which he deſerves by the one, and the joys which he merits
by the other, are equally never to have an end: and let
him then make election of that which fhall be best for him.
Let him fee if it be not better to work for himſelf an eternal
crown of glory out of the flight and momentary fufferings
of this life; And let not the length of life affright him: for
there is nothing long in respect of eternity. It was there-
fore well faid of St. Augustine (c), That all which bath an
end is bort. A hundred years of penance have an end, and
are therefore ſhort: a thousand years, a hundred thouſand
millions have their end, and are therefore in the appear-
ance of what is immenfe but little, and in refpe&t of eterni-
ty, no more than an inſtant. In the fame manner we are
to look upon a thousand years, as upon an hour; and for it-
felf a long life is no more to be deſired than a ſhort, fince
both in refpect of eternity bear the fame bulk. And as in
refpect of a folid body, a thouſand fuperficies's bear no more.
proportion than one, all of them together being as incapa-
ble of making up the leaſt particle of folidity, as one only:
ſo in reſpect of eternity, one year is not leſs than a thouſand,
nor a thouſand more than one. And upon all time, al-
though it were a million of ages, we are to look as upon an
inſtant, and upon all, which is temporal, as upon a fuperfi-
cies, which hath only an appearance, but nothing of fub-
flance; neither can all time, nor all temporal goods together
make up one only good of eternity. If the whole earth be
but a point in refpect of the heavens, which are notwith-
ſtanding
(c) In Pfalm. 45.
56
The Difference betwixt
LIB. I.
ſtanding of a finite and limited greatnefs, what great matter
is it, if all time be but as an instant in refpe& of eternity,
which is infinite and without limit? Betwixt the earth, nay
betwixt the leaft grain of fand, and the highest heaven, there
is a proportion: both have quantity; but betwixt a thou-
fand years and eternity none at all, and are therefore lefs
than a point. O blindneſs of men, who are ſo befotted with
time, that in life they defire pleaſure, and in death a me-
morial, and both in death and life; a fame and renown; for
what; even for a moment, for an initant. Wherefore de-
fireft thou pleaſure in life, which to-morrow is to end:
Wherefore defireft thou a vain memory after death, which
can endure no longer than the world, whofe end will not be
long deferred? And although it should yet laft for a million.
of ages, it were but fhort, fince thoſe alſo muſt conclude,
and all were but as a moment in refpe&t of eternity. As the
immenfity of God is in refpe&t of place, fo is eternity in re-
fpe&t of time; and as in reſpect of the immenfity of God,
the whole ſea is no greater than a drop of water, nor an
atome in the air no less than the whole world; fo in respect
of eternity a hundred thousand years, and half a quarter of
an hour are the fame. If God then ſhould bestow upon thee
this life only for a quarter of an hour, and that thou kneweft
likewife, that the world within an hour after thy death were
to end alſo, would eft thou spend that ſhort time in oftentati-
on, and ſetting forth thyself, whereby to raiſe a fame, that
might endure that fhort time after thy life? no certainly :
thou wouldeſt buſy thyfelf with other thoughts, thou would-
eft think of providing to die well, and not trouble thyfelf in
leaving a vain fame and memory, which were fo fmall a
time to over-laft thee. Know then that thou oughteſt to do
the fame, although thou were certain to live a hundred
years, and the world to endure a hundred thouſand after
thee. For all which hath an end, is fhort, and all time in
reſpect of eternity is but a day, an hour, a moment. Re-
member therefore the faying of St. John, who ſaid his time
was in the laſt hour of the world, although there then want-
ed many years: all which in refpect of eternity were but as
one hour. So then if thou wouldeſt not be ſolicitous of leav-
ing a name behind thee, if the world were to continue but
an hour, no more oughteſt thou to be now, although it were
to endure for many ages.
If
CAP. X.
57
the Temporal and Eternal.
If thou kneweſt for certain, that thou had'ſt to live a hun-
dred years, and that during that time, thou fhouldeſt have
nothing to eat, or fuftain thyfelf, but what thou dreweſt
from the flore and treature of fome great king, and that too
in the ſmall ſpace of an hour, wouldeft thou spend that hour
in walking abroad, in vain converfation and entertainments?
certainly no: thou wouldeft not ceafe from labouring and
making hafte to load thyfelf with thofe treaſures. How art
thou then fo carelefs, knowing that thy foul is to live for an
eternity, and that thou haft nothing to fuftain it with here-
after, but what thou gaineſt by thy merits, within the ſpace
of this fhort life? look how fhort a time is allowed thee to
provide for eternity: How art thou then fo negligent, as to
paſs it in vain pleafures? how comeft thou then to laugh
and not to weep rather, and tear thy flesh with rigid pen-
ance and mortifications? More is an hour in reſpect of a
hundred years, than a hundred thouſand are in refpe&t of
eternity: And therefore if in that hour, becauſe the time
appeared but ſhort, thou wouldeſt not be flothful in furniſh-
ing thyself for a hundred years, much lefs oughteſt thou to
be flow in thoſe hundred years of life, to provide for eterni-
ty. Confider alfo what a hundred years are in respect of a
million; and a million of years in reſpect of eternity. If
for a hundred years ſpent in torments, thou wert to enjoy a
million of years in pleafure and content, certainly thou had
a moſt advantageous bargain, fince thou receiveſt ten thou
fand times more than thou gavest. What a purchaſe haſt
thou then, if not for a hundred years of pain, but for a fhort
hour spent in the mortification of fome one vain pleaſure,
thou receiveft an eternity of glory, in refpect of which, a
million of years are but as an inftant? See then how ſhort
is the fpace of this life to gain the eternal; ſee how fhort is
all time to merit eternity. Well did St. Augufline (d) fay,
*For an eternal rett, thou wert in reafon to undergo an
"eternal labour, and for an eternal felicity, to endure eter-
"nal pains." How then can the fhort labours of this life
feem tedious unto thee? questionless there is no juſt foul in
Heaven, nor damned in Hell, that fo often as he cafts his
eyes upon eternity, is not aftoniſhed, that fo fhort a thing as
this life, fhould be the key of fo long a happineſs in the
one, or mifery in the other. See then how cheap thou haft
an eternity of glory, the which is an infinite for a finite.
Weigh
H
(d) Auguft. in Pfal. 39.
1
58
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
Weigh a thousand years, weigh a thouſand millions in
counterpoife with eternity, they weigh nothing: all is but
fmoak and ſtraw; there is no comparifon betwixt infinite
and finite; betwixt what is real, and what is painted. Well
did Plotinus fay, That time was the image of eternity; con-
formable unto which David faid, That man paffes away in
an image; as if he ſhould have laid, he paffes away in time.
The fame which is faid of time, may be faid of goods and
evils temporal, which pafs along in time, which are all but
counterfeited and painted ſtuff, in refpe&t of thoſe which are
eternal. See then how cheap thou haft a glory without
end, even for a ſhort and tranfitory toil, a true and real hap-
pineſs for a painted labour. Certainly thou oughteſt not
only to eschew the pleaſures of this life, but even to abhor
them, and to feek eternity through troubles fire and fwords.
For as eternity holds no compariſon with time, fo it ought
during time to be fought with fervour, diligence and incom-
parable folicitude. Solomon faid of wifdom (e), that in her
right-hand the held eternity, or length of days, and in her
left riches and glory; to fignify with what earneftneſs we
ought to feek the eternal, and to prefer virtue before wealth
and honours. For as the right hand is poffeffed of more
force and vigour than the left, fo we ought to hold faft and
preferve the eternal with all our ftrength, but not the tem-
poral: which, how glorious foever they appear, we are but
lightly to lay hold on, fince they profit nothing. Things,
which have an end, fink as it were into the abyss of nothing,
and are as if they had not been at all. Neither fpeak I
only of the pleaſures of life, but even of life itfelf, which is
nothing but a fhadow of a being in the midft of an eterni-
ty. Confider that thy pleaſures, before thou had'ft them,
had for an eternity no being, and once paſt, ſhall for ano-
ther eternity never be again. What are they then more,
than if they had not been at all? all of them begin, and
end in the midst of eternity, which neither hath beginning
nor ending and are now funk and drank up in that vaſt
abyſs, as if they had never been. And therefore little fhall,
what is temporal and paffes away, profit thee, unleſs thou
draw from it fome fruit, which is permanent and eternal.
(e) Prov. 3.
CAP.
CA P. XI.
59
the Temporal and Eternal.
CA P. XI.
What is Timé, according unto ARISTOTLE, and other Phil-
ofotbers; and the little confiftence of Life.
A
LTHOUGH it may be collected out of that which is
ſpoken what time is, and what temporal life, and thoſe
things which pafs along in time are: let us not withstanding,
having already treated of eternity, confider it now more
particularly, that we may from thence, frame a more lively
conception of the baſeneſs of things temporal, and greatneis
of eternal. Ariftotle defines time to be the measure of moti-
on; beeaufe where there is no change or fucceffion, there
is no time. This Speufippus declares more fully, faying,
"Time is the meaſure of the fwift and fpeedy courſe of the
"Sun;" and Proclus will have it to be, "The number
"of the courſes and revolutions of the celestial bodies; the
"Pythagoreans of the motion of the higheſt ſphere, which
"turns the rest of the inferior orbs." Conformable unto
which, Albertus Magnus (†) faid it was, The meaſure of the
motion of the Primum Mobile; infomuch, as all agree in
this, that time is but an accident of a thing fo unconftant,
as is motion. Wherefore Avicenna (g), not without reaſon
affirmed, that time was more invalid, vain and inconfider-
able than motion. See then what it is to truft unto humane
life; fince it is a member of that which is ſo unconſtant and
rapid as time, which runs and paffes away according to the
courſe of the fun, and revolutions of ſtars in the firmament,
whole ſwiftneſs not only exceeds the flight of birds, but even
furpaffes the wind itſelf. Know then that death follows thee
not with leaden feet: it hath wings and comes flying in
purfuit of thee with fuch fwiftneſs, as greater cannot be ima-
gined it exceeds not only the birds of the air, but a dif
charged cannon moves not with that fury, as it runs after
thee, and will at last not fail to overtake thee. Call to re-
membrance the fwifteft things within thy apprehenfion, and
they all move but the pace of a tortoile, in comparison of
H 2
(f) Albert. Mag. in 3. phyſ, tract. 2. c. 3.
(g) Avicen. futh. lib. 2. c. 1 3.
death.
бо
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
yet
death. A falcon moves with great twifinefs after a heron;
but all her ſpeed is flegm in refpect of that of time, and
death, which runs like an armed horfe man to lay hold on
thee. More fwift than the motion of the bird is that of the
- fowlers arrow, fince it hits and kills her flying; but dull and
flow is the ſwifteft arrow, in refpe&t of that with which death
aims at thee, even from the first moment of the birth. What
can be imagined more fwift than a flash of lightning?
that moves leifurely in refpect of death, which runs after
thee with a motion equal to that of the flars in the firina-
ment, whoſe fwittnefs is fo prodigious, that, according to
the more modern account of Clavius, they run in one day
more than a thouſand feventeen millions and a half of
leagues, and in one hour more than forty-two millions.
After this rate doth death purſue thee. How is it, that thou
trembleſt not? how comes it that thou feareft it not? now
is the bow drawn, now let the arrow leofe, and already in
the way to hit thee. Why dolt thou ſtrive to fhun it, and
doft not rather humble and prepare thyfelf to receive it? If
one ſhould tell thee that a whole teir of artillery were imme-
diately to be diſcharged against thee, and no way left to a-
void the ſtrokes, how wouldeft thou be amazed? but if thou
perceiveft that fire was already given, the very noiſe per-
haps would kill thee. Know then, that the artillery of
death with much more fury is already fhot, and there is no
quarter of an hour wherein it flies, not more than ten thou-
fand leagues to overtake thee: and yet from whence it part.
ed, and where it now is, thou knoweft not, Wert thou cer-
tain it were far hence, yet it runs with fo precipitate a courfe
that it will fail in a fhort time to reach thee; and there-
fore thou being ignorant of what diftance it is, thou ought-
eſt every moment to expect it, fince every moment it may
be with thec.
Befides this of fwiftnefs, we are to confider that other
condition of time noted by Ariftotle, that it is The meafure
of motion according to the precedent and fulfequent, which is
the fame, as if he fhould have faid, Time is the meaſure of
motion, in as much as it contains parts after parts in a con-
tinual fucceffion; which, as Averroes notes is effentially
included in the definition of time, as not having capacity to
prefent things at once and together, but fucceffively, and by
parts: fome leaving to be that others may fucceed, the firit
parts every moment dying, that the fecond may poffefs their
places.
CA P. XI.
61
the Temporal and Eternal.
places. Thole goods of life, which accompany our infancy,
leave us in our youth: and thoſe of our youth, when we
become old. The candor, fincerity and innocency of chil-
dren is loft, when they leave their coats; and the ſtrength
and vigour of youth confifts not with the wifdom and judg-
ment of age. It is not in the power of time to give us alto-
gether, but the goods of life being limited, it beftows them
with a limited and restrained hand: Even life itfelf, it gives
us but by pieces, and mingles as many parts of death, as it
gives of lite. The age of infancy dies, when we enter into
that of child-hood; that of child-hood, when we become
youths; that of youth, when we come to the age of man-
hood; that, when we are old, and even old age itſelf ex-
pires, when we become decrepit: fo that during the fame
life we find many deaths, and yet can hardly perfuade our-
felves that we fhall die one. Let us caft our eyes upon our
life paft, let us confider what is become of our infancy,
child-hood and youth; they are now dead in us. In the
fame manner ſhall thofe ages of our life, which are to come,
die alfo. Neither do we only die in the principal times of
life, but every hour, every moment includes a kind of death
in the fucceffion and change of things. What content is
there in life, which quickly dies not by fome fucceeding
forrow? what affliction of pain, which is not followed by
fome equal or greater grief than itself? why are we grieved
for what is abfent, fince it offends us being prefent? what
we defire with impatience, being poffeffed, brings care and
folicitude, lofs, grief and affliction. The fhort time which
any pleaſure ftays with us, it is not to be enjoyed wholly,
and all at once, but tafted by parts; fo as when the ſecond
part comes, we feel not the pleaſure of the firft, leffening it-
ſelf every moment: and we ourſelves ftill dying with it,
there being no inttant of life, wherein death gains not
ground of us. The motion of the heavens, is but the fwift
turn of the ſpindle, which rolls up the thread of our lives:
and a moſt fleet horfe, upon which death runs poft after us.
There is no moment of life wherein death hath not equal
jurifdi&tion; and, as a philofopher faith, there is no point
of life, which we divide not with death: fo as, if well con-
fidered, we live but one only point, and have not life, but
for this prefent inftant. Our years paft are now vanished,
and we enjoy no more of them, than if we were already
dead; the years to come we yet live not, and poffefs no
more
62
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
Yeſterday is
more of them, than if we were not yet born.
gone, to-morrow we know not what ſhall be of to day
many hours are paſt, and we live them not, others are to
come, and whether we fhall live them or no, is uncertain;
ſo that, all counts caft up, we live but this prefent moment,
and in this alſo we are dying; fo that we cannot ſay, that
life is any thing, but the half of an inſtant, and an indivifi-
ble point divided betwixt it and death. With reafon, as
Zacharias faid, may this temporal life be called, The fhadow
of death, fince under the fhadow of life death ſteals upon
us; and as at every step the body takes, the fhadow takes
another, ſo at every pace our life moves forward, death
equally advances with it. And as eternity hath this propor-
tion, that it is ever in beginning, and is therefore a perpe-
tual beginning, fo life is ever ending and concluding: and
many therefore be called a perpetual end, and a continual
death. There is no pleaſure in life, which although it ſhould
last twenty continued years, that can be prefent with us
longer than an inſtant, and that with fuch a counterpoiſe,
that in it death no lefs approaches, than life is enjoyed.
Time is of ſo ſmall a being and fubftance, and confequent-
ly our life, that, as Albertus Magnus faith (h), it hath no
effence permanent and ſtable, but only violent and fuccef-
five, with which (not being able to detain itſelf in its career)
it precipitates into eternity; and like an ill-mouthed horſe,
runs head-long on, and tramples under foot all it meets
with, and without ftopping, ruins what it finds before it.
And as we cannot perfectly enjoy the fight of fome gallant
cavalier, decked with jewels and adorned with glittering
bravery, who with bridle on the neck, paffed in a full career
before us: fo are we not able perfectly to enjoy the things
of this life, which are ftill in motion, and never reſt one
moment, but iun head-long on, until they daſh themſelves
in pieces upon the rock of death, and perifh in their end.
The name which the emperor Marcus Aurelius (i) gave
unto time, when he ſaid, that it was a furious and a raging
wave, did not a little exprefs this condition of it: for as
ſuch a wave finks and overwhelms the veffel, not permitting
the merchant to enjoy the treafures with which he was
laden: fo time with his violence and fury, ruins and drowns
all that runs along in it. This philofopher confidering the
(h) Phyf. 4. trae. 7. C. 4.
(i) Mar. Aurel. Anton. lib. 4.
brevity
CAP. XII.
63
the Temporal and Eternal.
Brevity and fleeting of time, judged a long and fhort life to
be the fame; whofe opinion for our further understanding,
I fhall here relate. "If fome of the Gods, faith he, ſhould
"tell thee, that thou wert to die to-morrow, or the day af-
ter, thou wouldeft not (except thou wert of a baſe and
"abje& fpirit) make any account whether, fince the diffe-
rence and diſtance betwixt the two days were fo fmail.
"In the fame manner thou art to judge of the difference of
dying to-morrow, and a thousand years hence. Confider
"feriouſly how many phyficians, who with knit-brows,
"have handled the pulfes of their fick patients, are now
"themſelves dead; how many mathematicians, who gla
"ried in foretelling the death of others; how many philofo-
"
phers, who have difputed fubtilly of death and mortali-
ty; how many famous captains, who have killed and
"deſtroyed a multitude of poor people; how many kings
"and tyrants, who with infolency have uſed their power
over their oppreffed vaffals; how many cities (if I may
"fo fay) have died, as Helice, Pompeios, Herculaneum, and
"innumerable others? Add unto thefe, how many thou
"thyself haft known to die, and affifted at their exequies,
"and that which yeſterday was fifh, and fresh, is to day
"laid in pickle, or duft. Momentary then is all time."
All this from this moft wife prince.
CA P. XII.
How fort Life is, for which respect all things temporal ar'e'
to be defpifed.
BE
EHOLD then what is time, and what thy life, and fee
if there can be any thing imagined more fwift, and
more inconſtant than it. Compare eternity, which continues
ever in the ſame ſtate, with time, which runs violently on,
and is ever changing; and confider that as eternity gives a
value and eftimation unto thofe things, which it preferves,
fo time difparages and takes away the value of thofe that
end in it. The leaſt joy of Heaven is to be efteemed as in-
finite, becauſe it is infinite in duration; and the greateſt
content of the earth is to be valued as nothing, becauſe it
ends
64
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
ends and concludes in nothing. The leaft torment in Hell
ought to cauſe an immenfe fear, becauſe it is to laft without
end, and the greatest pains of this world are not to affright
us, fince they are to ceafe and determine. By how much
eternity enobles and adds unto the greatnefs of thofe things
which are eternal by fo much doth time vilify, and debaſe
thofe things which are temporal: and therefore as all which
is eternal, although it were little in itſelf, ought to be ef
teemed as infinite, ſo all which is temporal, although it were
infinite, yet is to be efteemed as nothing, becaufe it is to
end in nothing. If a man were lord of infinite worlds, and
poffeffed infinite riches, if they were at laft to end, and he
to leave them, they were to be valued as nothing; and if
all things temporal have this evil property to fail and perife,
they ought to have no more eſteem, than if they were not.
With good reafon then is life itſelf to be valued as nothing,
fince nothing is more frail, nothing more perishing, and in
conclufion is little more than if it had no being at all. Pof-
feffions, inheritances, riches, titles, and other goods of for-
tune remain when man is gone, but not his life. A little
exceſs of cold or heat makes an end of that; a harp wind,
the infectious breath of a fick perfon, a drop of poifon makes
ît vaniſh; in fo much as no glafs is fo frail as it. Glafs
without violence may laft long, but the life of man ends of
itfelf; glafs may with care be preferved for many ages, but
nothing can preferve the life of man, it conſumes itſelf.
All this was well understood by king David, who was the
moſt powerful and happy prince the Hebrews ever had, as
ruling over both the kingdoms of Judea and Ifrael, with all
which was promiſed by God unto the Ifraelites, but not un-'
til his time poffeffed; his dominions befides extending over
many other provinces (k), fo as gold rolled up and down
his houſe and court, and he left at his death mighty trea.
fures unto his fon Solomon. Yet this fo fortunate a prince
confidering that his greatneſs was to have an end, valued
it as nothing, and not only eſteemed his kingdoms and trea-
fures as a vanity, but even his life itself: Wherefore he
fays, Thou baft pat, O Lord, a meafure unto my days, and
my fubftance is as nothing; all my rents, all my kingdoms.
all my trophies, all my treafures, all which I poffets, al-
though fo powerful a king, all is nothing: And preſently
adds,
(k) See 1. Paralin, 29, what he left him towards the building
of the Temple only.
CAP. XII.
65
the Temporal and Eternal.
adds, Doubtlefs, all is vanity, all what living man is (1), all
his whole life is vanity, and nothing that belongs to him fo
trail as himſelf. Of fo mean value are the things of this
world, although we were to enjoy them for many ages: but
being to end fo quickly, and perhaps more fuddenly than
we can imagine, what account is to be made of them? O
if we could but frame a true conception of the ſhortness of
this life, how ſhould we deſpiſe the pleaſures of it? This is
a matter of ſuch importance, that God commanded the
principal of his prophets, that he fhould go into the streets
and market places, and proclaim aloud, How frail and fhort
was the life of man. For the prophet Ifaiab being about to
prophefy of the moſt high and hidden myſtery, which ever
God revealed unto man, which is the incarnation of the
eternal word, was fuddenly commanded by the Lord to lift
up his voice, and to cry aloud: unto whom the prophet re-
plied, What is it O Lord that I muft cry aloud? The Lord
jaid, That all fleſh is grafs, and all the glory of it, as the
flowers of the field. For as the grafs, which is cut in the
morning, withers before night, and as the flower is quickly
faded, fo is the life of all flesh, the beauty and fplendor of it
paffing and withering in a day. Upon which place faith
St. Hierome (m), "He who fhall look upon the frailty of
our fleſh, and that every moment of an hour we increaſe
"and decreaſe, without ever remaining in the fame ſtate,
"and that even what we now speak, dictate or write, flies
away with fome part of our life, will not doubt to ſay,
"his flesh is grafs, and the glory of it as the flower of the
"field. And prefently after: He that was yesterday an in-
66
fant is now a boy, and will fuddenly be a youth, and
even until old age runs changing through uncertain
"conditions of life, and perceives himſelf first to be an old
man, before he begins to admire that he is not ſtill a boy.
In another place the fame faint meditating upon the death
of Nepotianus, who d.ed in the flower of his age, breaks out
into thefe complaints (n). "O miferable condition of
"human nature: Vain is all that we live without Chrift :
"all flesh is hay, and all the glory of it as the flower of the
"field. Where is now that comely vifage? where is now
I
the dignity of the whole body, with which as with a fair
"garment, the beauty of the foul was once cloathed? Ay
pity!
(m) Hieron. in Comment. (n) In Epitaph. Nepot.
(1) Pfal. 38.
|
༦
66
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
66
pity! the lilly is withered by a fouthern blaft, and the
purple of the violet turned into palenefs. And immedi-
ately adds, Why do we not ourselves confider what in
"time must become of us, and whether we will or no, can-
66 not be far off? for ſhould our life exceed the term of 900
years, and that the days of Matbufalem were bestowed
upon us, yet all this length of life once paft (and pass it
"muft) were nothing: and betwixt him who lives but ten
years, and him who lives a thouſand, the end of life, and
"the unavoidable neceflity of death once come, all is the
"fame, fave only he who lives longer, departs heavier load-
"ed with his fins." This frailty therefore and brevity of
human life, being fo certain and evident, yet our Lord would
have his prophet publifh it together, with the moſt hidden
and unknown mystery of his incarnation, and the manner
of the world's redemption, which even the most high Sera-
phins did not conceive poffible; and all becauſe men will
not ſuffer themſelves to be perfuaded of this truth, nor prac-
tically apprehend the fhortness of their life: Nay, feeing
death feized upon others, yet they will not believe that it
fhall happen unto themselves; and although they hear of it
hourly, yet it appears unto them as a hidden myſtery, which
they cannot underſtand. God therefore commanded the
prophet Iſaiah, that he ſhould proclaim and publish it with a
loud voice, as a thing new and of great importance, that it
might fo penetrate and fink into the hearts of men. Let us
therefore receive this truth from God himself: All flesh is
grafs, All age is fhort, All time flies, All life vanifhes, and
a great multitude of years, are but a great nothing.
Let us alſo hear how true this is from thofe who lived the
longeft, and have had the greatest experience of what it is
to live. Perhaps thou mayeft promife thyfelf to live a hun-
dred years, as though this were a long life: Hearken them
unto holy Job, who lived 240 years, who knew best what it
was to live, both in refpect of his profperity, and of his great
troubles and afflictions, the which make life appear longer
than it is. What lays he of all his years? My days, faith
he, are nothing. Nothing he calls them, although they laft-
ed almost three ages. In other places ſpeaking of the fhort-
neſs of life, and declaring it with many compariſons and
metaphors; fometimes he fays, His days were more speedy
than a courier, and that they paffed as a fhip under' fail, or
as an eagle which ftoops furiously upon his prey; fometimes
that
CAP. XII.
67
the Temporal and Eternal.
66
r
that they were more ſwift than a weaver's ſhuttle; in one
place he compares his life unto a withered leaf, blown up
and down by the wind, or unto dry ftubble; in another he
fays, That the life of man is like the flower, which springs.
up to day, and to-morrow is trodden under foot: and that
it flies like a fhadow, without ever remaining in the fame
ſtate. How poor a thing then is life, fince holy Job calls it
but a fhadow, though then three or four times longer than
at preſent? and it is no marvel, fince thoſe whofe life ex-
ceeded nine hundred years, who lived before the deluge,
and are now most of them in hell, complains as the wife
man relates in this manner (o). "What hath our pride
profited us, or the pomp of our riches availed us? all
"those things are paffed as a fhadow, or as a meffenger,
"who runs poft, or as a hip, which breaks the unquiet
waves, and leaves no track or path behind it, or like the
bird, which flies through the air, and leaves no fign after
her, but with the noife of her wings beats the light wind
and forces herfelf a paffage whithout leaving any know-
ledge which way fhe made her flight, or like the arrow
"fhot at the mark, which hath fcarce divided the fubtil
element, when it clofes and joins again in fuch a manner
as it cannot be perceived which way it went: Even fo
we were hardly born, when upon a fudden we ceaſed to
"s be."
Theſe were the words even of thofe who were
damned, who lived more than 800 years: and if they ef-
teemed so long a life but as a fhadow, and in the inftant
when they died, judged they were fcarce born, how can't
thou think to live long in a time, wherein it is much to
reach the age of 60? A life then of 800 years being no
more than the flirting up and down of a little fparrow, the
flight of an arrow, or to fay better, the paffage of a ſhadow;
what then are fifty years, unto which perhaps thou mayeft
attain certainly the longest term, whereunto human life
extends, was compared by Homer but unto the leaves of a
tree, which at molt endure but a fummer's feafon. Euripides
judged that too much, and ſaid, that humane felicity was to
be valued but as the length of a day. And Demetrius Pha-
lareus allowed it but a moment's fpace. Plato thought it too
much to give it any being at all, and therefore calls it but
the dream of a waking man.
John Chryfoftom yet
leffens
And St.
I
2
(0) Sap. 5.
68
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
leffens that, calling it but a dream of thofe who fleep. It
ſeems the faints and philofophers could find no fymbol, no
compariſon ſufficient to exprefs the fhortnefs of man's life,
fince neither a courier by land, nor a ſhip by fea, nor a bird
in the air poffefs with that fpeed. All these things which we
have now mentioned, and others though esteemed ſwift, yet
have not fuch equality of motion, but that they fometimes
flacken their pace, and fometimes ftand ftill. But the im-
petuous courſe of our life, by which it haftens unto death,
ftops not ſo much as whilft we fleep; and therefore appear-
ed unto Philemius fo fwift and rapid, that he ſaid his life
was no more but to be born and die, and that at our birth
we iffued forth of a dark prifon, and at our death entered
into a more fad and dreadful fepulchre. Quit from this ſhort
life the time of fleep, and thou quitteft from it the third part:
Take from it infancy, and other accidents which hinder the
ſenſe and fruit of living, and there hardly remains the half
of that nothing, which thou efteemet fo much. That which
Averroes (p) affirmed of time, when he faid, that time was
a being diminished in itſelf, may be well verified of life,
which is in itſelf fo little, as it is but a point in reſpect of
eternity; and yet fo many parts are taken from that point.
Befides all this, doft thou think that this piece of life, which
thou now enjoyeft, is certain? thou deceiveft thyself. For
as the wife man fays, Man does not know the day of his
end; and therefore as fishes, when they are moſt ſecure, are
then taken with the angle, and birds with the fnare, fo death
affails us in the evil time, when we leaſt think of it.
Confider then how vile are all things temporal, and how
frail is all the glory of the world, being grounded upon fo
feeble z foundation. The goods of the earth can be no
greater than is life, which gives them their value; and if
that be ſo poor and ſhort, what ſhall they be? what can the
delights of man be, fince his life is but a dream, a fhadow,
and as the twinkling of an eye? It the moft long lite be fo
fhort, what can be the pleature of that torment, by which is
loft eternal happinefs. What good can be of value which
is fuftained by a life to contemptible and full of mifery? A
figure of this was the ftatue of Nebuchodonozor, which al-
though made of rich metals, as of gold and filver, yet was
founded upon feet of clay, fo as a little ftone falling upon it,
overthrew it unto the earth. All the greatnefs and riches
(p) Aver. 4. Phy. tex. 13.
of
CA P. XII.
69
the Temporal and Eternal.
of the world, have for foundation the life of him who enjoys
them, which is fo frail and flippery, that not a little ftone,
but even the grain of a grape, hath been able to ruin and
overthrow it. With reafon did David fay, that all which is
living man, is univerfal vanity: fince the brevity of his life
fuffices to vilify, and make vain all the goods which he is
capable of enjoying. Vain are the honours, vain are the
applaufes, the riches and pleafures of life, which being it-
felf fo fhort and frail, makes all things vain which depend
upon it, and fo becomes itſelf a vanity of vanities, and an
univerſal vanity. What account wouldeft thou make of a
tower founded upon a quick fand? or what fafety wouldeſt
thou hope for in a fhip bored with holes? certainly thou
oughteſt to give no more eſteem unto the things of this
world, fince they are founded upon a thing fu unſtable as
this life. What can all human glory be, fince life, which
fuftains it, hath (according to David) no more confiſtence
than ſmoke, or (according to St. Thomas) than a little va-
pour, which in a moment vaniſhes: And although it ſhould
endure a thouſand years, yet coming to an end, it were
equal unto that which lafted but a day: For as well the fe-
licity of a long as a fhort life is but ſmoke and vanity, fince
they both pass away and conclude in death. Guerricus the
dominican, a great philofopher and phyfician, and after-
wards a moſt famous divine, hearing them read the fifth
chapter of Genefis, wherein are recounted the fons and def-
cendants of Adam in theſe terms: "The whole life of Adamı
was 930 years, and he died; The life of his fon Setb
was 912 years, and he died," and fo of the reſt, began
to think with himself, that if fuch and ſo great men after ſo
long a life ended in death, it was not ſafe to loſe more time
in this world, but fo to fecure his life, that lofing it here, he
might find it hereafter; and with this thought entered into
the order of St. Dominick, and became of a moſt religious
life.
O what fools are men, who feeing life fo fhort, endeav
pur to live long, and not to live well, fince it is a thing moſt
certain (as Seneca obferves) (q) that every man may live
well, but no man, what age foever he attains unto, can live
long. This folly appears more plainly by that which is faid
by Lectantius (1), that this life being fo fhort, the goods
and evils of it must be likewife fhort, as the goods and evils
(q) In if. 22.—~—(r) Lec. lib. 6. divin. Inftit.
of
70
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
of the other must be eternal; and that God being pleafed to
make an equal diſtribution of both, ordained that unto the
fhort and tranfitory goods, which we enjoy unlawfully in
this life, fhould fucceed eternal evils in the next: and unto
thoſe ſhort evils, which we fuffer here for God's fake, eter-
nal good, and happineſs fhould follow in the other. Where-
fare Almighty God fetting before us this difference betwixt
good and evil, and leaving us in Ifberty of choofing which
we pleaſe, how great a folly were it, for the not fuffering of
a few evils, and thofe fo fhort, to lofe goods fo great and
eternal, and for the enjoying of goods ſo ſhort and tranfitory,
to endure evils without end?
CA P. XIII.
What is Time according to St. AUGUSTINE.
LET us alfo fee what the great doctor of the church St.
Auguftine (s) thought of the nature of time: which in
that great wit and underſtanding of his found fo little efti-
mation and being, that after he had with much fubtility
diſputed what it was, at length comes to conclude, that he
knows not what it is, nay, that he knows not fo much, as
what it is not to know it. The moft that he can reach unto
is, that no time is long, and that that only may be called
time, which is prefent, which is but a moment. The fame
is the opinion of Antoninus (t) in his philoſophy, who ſpeaks
in this manner: "If thou wert to live 3000 years, and
<<
30000 more above thofe, yet oughteft thou to remember
"that no man lives any other life, than what he lives at
"prefent: and therefore the moft long and the moſt ſhort
fpace of life is the fame, that which is prefent being the
"fame unto all, although not that which is already paſt.
"So as it feems there is but one only point of time; and
"that no man can lofe either that which is paſt, or that
"" which is to come: fince no man can loſe what he hath
66 not, wherefore thefe two things ought to be preſerved in
"memory:
(3) Lib. 11. Confef. ca. 25.
(t) Aur. Anton. 1. 2.
8
CA P. XIII.
the Temporal and Eternal.
71
"memory: The one, that from the beginning all things
keep the fame form, and return as it were in a circle to
"the fame ftate; fo as there is no difference betwixt the
"beholding of them for a 100, for 200 years, or for an in-
"finite time. The other is, that he who lives long, and
"he who dies fhortly tofe the fame thing, being both de
"prived of the prefent, of which they only are poffeffed,
"and no man lofes what he hath not." So much from this
wife prince who found no other fubftance in time, but only
this prefent moment. And St. Augufline (u) informs us fur-
ther of the being of this prefent moment, of which it cannot
be affirmed fo much as that it is at all. Thefe are his words.
"If the preſent that it may be called time, is becauſe it is to
" paſs into the præterit, how can it be faid to be, fince the
"only caufe, why it is, becaufe it fhall not be? fo as we
cannot affirm it to have a being, but in as much as it is a
way into a not being."
Behold then whereunto thon truft thy felicity. See upon
what pillar of brafs thou placeft thy hopes; even on fo flight
a thing, that its whole existence is in ceafing to be, and re-
ceives its being (if it have any) from its paffing mto nothing.
For what can that have, which is, and is not, ever ceafing
to be with that impetuous fury, that thou art not able to de-
tain it for one fmall moment, fince even during that mo-
ment, it is in a perpetual motion? Let him, who is in the
Aower of his age, tell me by what power he is able to detain
the years of his life but for one day or whether he can keep
the pleaſure, which he now enjoys, but one hour from leav
ing him. Let him endeavour to lay hold on time: But it
is in vain; He knows not where to faften: Time hath no
fubflance, and yet runs with that violence, that it will foon-
er haul thee after it, that thou shalt be able to keep it back.
Wherefore the fame holy doctor fpeaking of life, fays, That
the time of life is a career unto death, the which is fo fwift
and mixed with fo many deaths, that he began to doubt,
whether the life of mortals were to be called a life or death;
and therefore thus difcourfes (x). "From the inftant that
"we begin to be in this body which is to die, there is no-
"thing operated in it, but what brings on death. This is
"effected by the mutability of life, if that may be called a
"life, which only works to bring on death: For there is
none who is not nearer his death this year than the laſt,
"
(u) Cap. 14.-(x) Lib. 13. de Civ. ca. 10.
to
72
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
1
66
ઃઃ to day than yesterday, now then a little while ago; and
"all the time we live is fubftracted from the time of living,
"and every day that which remains becomes lefs and leſs;
"in fo much as the time of this life is nothing elſe, but a
career unto death, in which no man is permitted to make
ſtay, or to march with more leifure, but all are driven on
"with equal ſpeed." Preſently after he adds: "For what
"elſe is daily and hourly done, until death which was ſtill
"a working be confummated, and that time, which follows
"death, begin to be, which time was then in death, whilft
"there was a continual decay of life? From hence it fol-
"lows, that man was never in life whilft he was in this
"body, which rather dies than lives: if perhaps he be not
at the fame time both in life and death jointly: that is,
"in life which he lives until that be ended, and in death
* which he dies, who is every moment deprived of ſome
part of life. For the fame reafon Quintilian faid: That
we died every moment before the time of death was
"" come." And Seneca; "We err when we look upon
"death, as upon a thing to fucceed, fince it hath both pre-
"ceded, and is alfo to follow; for all what hath been be-
"fore us is death. And what imports it, whether thou be-
"gin not at all, or end, fince the effect of both is not to
"be?" Every day we die, and every day we loſe fome part
of life, and in our very growth, our life decreafes and grows
lefs, and this very day, wherein we live, we divide with
death. Our life in the book of Wisdom, is compared unto
the paffing of a ſhadow, which, as it may be faid, to be a
kind of night, fo our life may be called a kind of death.
For as the fhadow hath fome part of light, fome of darkneſs,
fo our life hath fome part of death, and fome of life, until
it come to end in a pure and folid death. And fince it is to
end in a not being, it is very little to be regarded, efpecially
compared with eternity, which hath a being conftant, and
for ever.
§. 2.
All (as hath been faid) which hath an end is little, fince
it is to end in nothing. Why therefore wilt thou lofe much
for that which is fo little, that which is true for what is falfe,
and a ſubſtance for a dream? Hear what St. John Chryfof-
tome
CAP. XIII.
73
the Temporal and Eternal.
tome fays (y); If for having a pleafant dream only for one
night, a man were to be tortured a hundred years when he
were awake, who would defire fuch a dream? Far greater
is the difference betwixt the truth of eternity, and the dream
of this life, betwixt the eternal years of the other world, and
the tranfitory ones of this. Lefs is this life in refpe&t of the
eternal, than an hour's dream in reſpect of a hundred years
awake; leſs than a drop in refpe&t of the whole ſea. For-
bear then ſome ſmall pleaſure now, that thou mayeſt not be
deprived of all pleaſures hereafter; fuffer rather ſome flight
trouble at prefent, than to be tormented hereafter for all eterni-
ty. For, as St. Auguftine fays, better is a little bitternefs in
the throat, than an eternal torment in the bowels.
All which paffes in time, Chrift our redeemer calls a very
little. A very little did he call the time of his paffion, and
all thoſe bitter pains which he fuffered in it; a very little
that of the martyrdom of his apoftles, endured with fo many
forts of torments: a little, a very little is all which in this
life can be fuffered in refpect of eternal years. Although,
as St. Augufline fays (z)," This little, becauſe we are yet
"in it, appears great, but when it ſhall be ended, then we
fhall perceive how fmall and contemptible it is." Let us
place ourſelves in the end of life: from that proſpect we
fhall difcern how ſmall are all things, which now ſeem great
unto us. Unto a moft obfervant and religious father of the
company of Jefus, called Chriftopher Caro, our Lord was
pleaſed to give us this leffon, that he ſhould often confider
thefe two things, O how much, and O how little; That is,
how much is eternity without end, how little is the time of
this life; how much is God enjoyed for ever, how little the
contents of the earth, which we are to leave behind us;
how much it is to reign with Chrift, how little to ſerve our
own appetite; how much is eternal glory, and how little to
live long in this valley of tears. Wherefore Ecclefiafticus
faid, "The number of the days of man, when many, are
an hundred years, and are reputed as a drop of water,
and as a grain of fand. So few are our years in the day
of eternity." Little will all time whatſoever appear, to
merit that which is eternal. With reafon did St. Bernard
often inculcate unto his monks that ſaying of St. Hierome:
No labour ought to appear hard, no torments long, by
which is gained the glory of eternity. Unto Jacob the ſeven
K
(y) Hom. 20. ad Pop.(z) Tract. 10. in Jo.
years,
74.
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
years, which he ſerved Loban, feemed short for the love he
bare unto Rachel; why fhould then the fervice of God for a
ſmall time feem long unto us? confider whom thou ſerveſt,
and wherefore: and mark whom Jacob ferved, and for what
Thou ferveft the true God, and for eternal glory; he ferved
a deceitful Idolater, for a frail and fading beauty. Compare
thy fervices with thofe of Jacob; fee if thou haft ferved God
as he ſerved Laban (a); fee if thou can't fay," By day I
was fcorched by heat, and by night benuaimed with
"cold; fleep fled from mine eyes; and in this manner I
"ferved thee twenty years." If with fuch fidelity, this
fervant of God ferved a Pagan, how oughtest thou to ferve
God himself? If thou bee'ft truly his fervant, all ought to
feem little unto thee, fince thou ferveft ſo good a maſter,
and for fo great a reward.
Look how thou employeft thy years, which being but few
for the meriting of fo great a thing as eternity, thou fuffereft
them to pass through thy fingers, without any profit at all.
Well, faith St. Auguftine (b), was the time of this life figni-
fied by the fpinning of the deftinies or fatal fifters, who were
feigned by the wife ancients, to fpin out the thread of life.
Time paft was that which was wound up, and rolled upon
the ſpindle: Time to come, the flax which remained to
ſpin upon the diſtaff: and the preſent that which paffed be-
twixt the fingers; for truly we know not how to employ our
time, in filling our hands with holy works, but fuffer it with-
out reflecting to pals through our fingers, in matters of no
ſubſtance or profit. But better did David declare this ill
employment of time, when he faid (c), our years did medi-
tate, or as another lection hath it, Did exercife as the Spi-
ders; becauſe fpiders fpin not wool or flax, but the excre-
ments of their own entrails, confuming and diffemboweling
themſelves to weave a webb, which they work with their feet
of ſo flight a ſubſtance, that in a moment it is rent in pie-
ces; and of fo little profit, that it ferves for no other ufe
than to catch flies. The life of man is full of vain labours,
vexations of various thoughts, plots, fufpicions, fears and
cares, in which it is wholly exercifed and employed, linking
and weaving one care into another, ftill troubling itſelf with
more, being ſcarcely freed from one employment, when it
entangles felf in another; and alfo fo ill ordered and com-
(a) Gen. 31.
(b) Lib. 1o. contra Fauft. c. 6.
(e) Pfal. 89.
|(e)
poſed
}
CA P. XIII,
75
the Temporal and Eternal.
pofed as if they had been managed by feet inftead of hands;
ftill adding labour unto labour, and toil unto toil, as the
fpider does one thread unto another; first thinking how to
obtain what we defire, then how to keep it, after how to ad-
vance and increafe it, then how to defend it, and lastly how
to enjoy it and yet in conclufion, all falls to pieces in the
handling, and becomes nothing. What labour doth it coſt
the poor ſpider to weave his webb, paffing inceffantly from
one part unto another, and often returning unto the fame
place where he began, confuming himself with threads
drawn from his proper entrails, for the forming of his pavil-
lion, which with many journeys having placed on high,
and at laſt finiſhed this goodly artifice, one touch of a broom.
defaces and brings to the ground all his labour. Juſt ſuch are
the employments of humane life, of much toil, and of little
profit, robbing us of fleep, and filling us with cares and
anxieties, fpending the most part of our time in uſeleſs pro-
jects, and vain imaginations, which of themfelves fall to
nothing, and in the end vanifh without effect. For which
reafon David faid, Our lives meditated as the fpiders, who
labour and toil all day in making of cobwebs: fo the life of
man paffes in the continual cares and thoughts of what he
is to be, what to endeavour, what to obtain, and all (as the
wife-man fays) is.vanity of vanities, and affliction of ſpirit ;
and for thofe things, which concern the ſervice of God, we
only fometimes afford them our thoughts, but ſeldom our
.works. With much reafon did Ariftotle fay, that the hope
* of our life yet to come, was like the dream of one who watch-
And Plato in the fame manner, calls the life paſt, a
dream of people awake. For in this both humane hope and
life refemble a dream, that neither of them have either be-
ing or ſubſiſtence; and there is no man, who after a dif
courfe within himfelf of his life paft, will not fay, that dreams
and truths are the fame thing, fince he poffeffes no more
of what he once enjoyed, than of what he dreamed, all his
delights and pleaſures appearing fo fhort unto him, that their
beginning and ending, feem to be joined together without
es.
a medium.
K 2
'
CAP.
76
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
CA P. XIV.
Time is the occafion of Eternity: and bow a Chriftian ought
to benefit himself by it.
TH
IME, although fhort, frail and flippery, yet hath one
condition most precious, which is to be the occafion of
eternity; fince by it we gain that in a fmall time, which we
are to enjoy for ever. For this reafon, when St. John faid,
that Time is at band, the Greek renders it, Occafion is at
band; becauſe the time of this life, is the occafion of gain-
ing eternity, and that once past and overflipt, there will be
no remedy or hope left of obtaining the other. Let us
therefore endeavour to employ our time well, and not loſe
the opportunity of fo great a good, whofe lofs is irrepara-
ble, and will be lamented with eternal, but unprofitable
complaints. Let us confider how great is the good, which´
occafion brings along with it, and how the refentment which
is ufually cauſed by the lofs of it, that we may from thence
know how to profit ourselves by temporal occafions, in order
unto eternal happinefs, and that we may be freed from that
inconfolable and fruitlefs repentance of the damned, who
have made no uſe of it. It is a great buſineſs this of our
falvation, and depends wholly upon the fwift time of this
life, which once paft is irrevocable, and the end of it mott
uncertain and therefore we ought with a hundred eyes to
watch occafion, that it over-pafs us not, and with a hundred
hands to lay hold on it. The ancients knowing the impor-
tance of it, feigned it to be a goddefs, thereby to declare the
great good, (when timely apprehended) which it brought
unto mankind, whofe image they adered in this mysterious
figure (d). They placed it upon a wheel, which continu-
ally moved round; it had wings at the feet, to note the
fwiftnefs with which it paffed: the face was not feen, but
covered with long hair, which on the fore-head grew thick
and bushy, whereby was fignified, that it was hard to know
when occafion happened, but being prefent eafy to lay hold
on it: the hinder part of the head was bald, becauſe once
paft, it had nothing whereby to retain it. Aufonius (e) to
fignify
(d) In Epig. Græc.-(e) Aufon. in Epig.
CA P. XIV.
77
the Temporal and Eternal.
A
fignify the effect which it leaves with thofe, who fuffer it to
flip from them, adds that it drew behind it Metanca, that
is repentance, which only remains with thoſe who know not
how to use it (t). Others reprefented occafion with hands
buſied in diſtributing riches and precious gifts, but accom-
panied with time in the habit of a traveller, which not with
two, but with four wings conducted it along, to fignity the
great hafte with which it paffed. Wherefore Hippocrates,
with much reafon calls occafion precipitate, becauſe it runs
with as great violence, as he falls, who throws himself head-
long from a high rock. Let us place in the midſt of eter-
nity, the longest time of humane life; let it be a hundred,
two hundred, or nine hundred years, as long as the life of
man before the deluge; yet it will then appear but as an in-
ftant, and he who fhall caft his eyes upon the immenfity of
eternal duration, will remain aftonifhed, that a thing fo
fhort, fo fmall, fo precipitate, fhould be the occafion of that
which is fo long, fo great and fo ftable. Since therefore the
whole time of this life is fo fhort for the gaining of eternity,
let us refolve not to lofe it, especially fince we have no aſ-
furance how long it will laſt: and although we were certain
to live yet a hundred years longer, we ought not to ſpare
one moment from the gaining of eternity. But being un-
certain how long we are to live, and perhaps fhall die to-
morrow, how can we be fo careless, as to let the occafion of
fecuring our glory pafs, which hereafter will never be offer-
ed? If a ſkilful workman were commanded by fome great
prince, that upon pain of death, he ſhould have in readineſs
fome excellent piece of his work againſt ſuch a time as it
fhould be called for, and that although a year's time were
requifite to perfe&t it, yet it might perhaps be called for foon-
er, certainly that artift would with all ſpeed finish the piece,
the neglect being no lefs than the forfeit of his life. Since
then our life eternal, confifts in being furniſhed with the
grace of God, and in preferving his divine image engraven
in our fouls, how can we be ſo careleſs to let paſs the occafi-
on of our ſalvation?
Theophraftus and Democritus, called time a moft precious
expence. Terence the first, and moft principal of all things.
Zenon faid, "That there was nothing which men wanted
more, nor whereof they flood in greater need than time.”
Pliny
(f) Vide Joan. David in lib. de occafione arrepta. In Aph.
78
The Difference betwixt
LIB. I.
Pliny made that account of it, that he would not ſo much
as one moment of it fhould be loft: and therefore reprehend-
ed his nephew for fpending a fhort time in walking for his
recreation, telling him that thofe hours might be better em-
ployed, and being prefent when the fame nephew cauſed
one, which in reading pronounced a word with an ill ac-
cent to repeat it again, admoniſhed him that too much time
was loſt in that uſeleſs repetition. Seneca esteemed time a-
bove all price and value, and in this manner fays, << Re-
"deem thyself unto thyfelf; recover and preferve that
"time, which hitherto hath been taken, furprized or flipt
"from thee. For whom wilt thou give me, that ſhall ſet a
price upon time, or give a value unto a day, who under-
"ftands himself daily to die?" If therefore the Gentiles,
who had no hope by time to purchaſe eternity, made fo
great account of it, what fhall we chriftians, unto whom it
is an occaſion of eternal happiness? Let us therefore hear
St. Bernard, "There is nothing (fays he) more precious
"than time. But alas! nothing at this day is more vili-
"fied. A day of falvation is paſt, and no man reflects on
"it, no man thinks, no man complains that he hath loſt a
"day, which ſhall never return. But as a hair from the
"head, ſo a moment of time fhall not perish." The fame
Saint allo grieving to fee a thing ſo precious, ſo much mif-
ſpent, ſpeaks in this manner. "Let no man make a ſmall
"eſteem of the time which is fpent in idle words. Say
"fome, We may yet chat and talk until this hour be past.
O wretched fpeech, Until this bour be paft! This being
"the hour, which the goodneſs of thy Creator hath be-
"ſtowed upon thee, that in it thou mayeft do penance for
"thy fins, obtain pardon, acquire grace, and merit glory.
"O lamentable fpeech, Whilst this hour paffes! this being
"the hour wherein thou mayeft gain divine mercy and
"commiferation." In another part he ſpeaks much to the
fame purpoſe, exhorting us to benefit ourselves by the time.
of this life. His words are theſe (g). "Whilst we have
"time let us do good unto all men, especially fince our
"Lord faid plainly, that the night would come when no
man could work. Art thou perhaps to find ſome other
"time in the world to come, wherein thou mayeſt leek
"God, and wherein thou mayeft do good: This being the
"time wherein he hath promifed to remember thee, and is
❝ therefore
(g) Serm. 75. in Cant.
CA P. XIV.
the Temporal and Eternal.
79
CC
66
"therefore the day of mercy, becauſe here our God and
King, hath long ago wrought thy falvation in the midft
"of the earth? go then and expect thy falvation in the
"midſt of hell. What poffibility doft thou dream of ob.
taining pardon in the midst of eternal flames, when the
time of mercy is already paft? No facrifice for fin re-
mains for thee, being dead in fin; no more ſhall the Son
"of God be crucified for thee. Once he died, and ſhall
now die no more. That blood which he fpilt upon the
"earth, ſhall not defcend into hell. The finners of the
"earth have drank it up. There is no part left for the de-
"vils, or for finners, which are the companions of devils,
"wherewith to quench their flames. Once defcended thi-
"ther not the blood but the foul of Chrift; This only vifit
"made by the prefence of the foul, when the body hung
"without life upon the Croſs, was the portion of them who
were in prifon. The blood watered the dry land, the
"blood was poured upon the thirſty earth, and did as it
inebriate it. The blood wrought peace for thoſe
"who were upon earth, and thoſe who were in heaven: but
not for thoſe who were in hell beneath the earth. Once
"only, as we have faid, the foul went thither, and made
"in parr redemption, (Speaking of the fouls of the Holy
"Fathers, who were in Limbo) that even for that moment
"the works of charity might not be wanting; but it paffed
'
were
no farther. Now is the time acceptable, now is the time
"fit wherein to feek God: And certainly he that feeks
"him fhall find him; if fo be he feek him, when, and
"where he ought to do." All this from St. Bernard.
§. 21.
Confider what an eternal repentance will follow thee, if
thou makeſt not uſe of this occafion of time, for the purcha-
fing of the kingdom of Heaven; eſpecially when thou shalt
fee that with ſo little ado, thou mighteſt have gained that
everlaſting glory, which to fatisfy a fhort pleaſure thou haſt
loft for ever. In what fury and madneſs was Efau (h),
when he reflected that his younger brother had gotten the
bleffing of the first born, by his own bafe felling his birth-
right for a diſh of Lentils he cried out and tore himſelf for
fpight and anger. Behold thyfelf in this mirrour, who for
(b) Gen. 19.
onc
80
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
one vile and ſhort pleaſure haft fold the kingdom of heaven.
If God had then thrown thee into hell, what wouldeft thou
have done, but lamented that with eternal tears, which in ſo
ſhort a time was loft? Cain, when he perceived that he and
his pofterity were curfed, and made infamous for not know-
ing how to benefit himſelf by that occafion (i), which was
first offered unto him, and made ufe of by his brother, what
reſentment had he then, or ought to have had? Meaſure
by this the fenfe of a damned perfon, who for not making
ufe of the time of this life, fhall fee himſelf curfed by God
for an eternity, and others far less than himſelf made bleffed
and rewarded in heaven. The Sons-in-law of Lot, when
they faw they might have efcaped the fire, and that being
invited they had rejected and laughed at the counſel of their
Father-in-law, when afterwards they perceived it to rain fire
and fulphur upon them and their cities, what grief and vex-
ation had they for refufing the benefit of fo fair an occafion
offered at their own doors? O what forrow, what pain, what
madneſs, what defperation ſhall feize upon a damned crea-
ture, when he ſhall call to mind how often he had been in-
vited by Chrift to falvation, and fhall now feel a tempeft of
fire and fulphur pouring down upon him for ever in hell?
King Hannon who had fo good an occafion to preferve that
peace, whereunto he was entreated and invited by David,
when after he faw his cities ruined, the inhabitants burned
like bricks in a furnace, fome thrashed to death, others torn
in pieces, what would he have given to have made ufe in
time of fo fair an offer, or of holding friendship with fo great
a king? but what is this in refpect of what a finner fhall
feel, when he ſhall fee himſelf burned in hell fire, become
an eternal enemy of the king of heaven, and deprived for
ever of reigning with his bleffed faints? what defpite, what
grief of heart ſhall he then have? The evil thief who was
crucified with the Saviour of the world, what doth he now
endure for refufing that good occafion which his companion
embraced? what a repentance hath now the rich glutton
for not laying hold of fo great an opportunity offered him at
his own home, as Lazarus his demanding an alms from
him, by giving of which he might have redeemed his fins?
but he let it paſs, being more inhumane than his dogs, who
fuffered not the poor Leper to depart without first licking of
his fores, ufing mercy with him, with whom their mater
ufed
(i) Gen. 9.
CAP. XIV.
81
the Temporal and Eternal.
ufed none. What will he now fay, when all things have
failed him, even one drop of cold water to cool his fcorched
and inflamed tongue, and all for denying fo poor an alms
as the crumbs which fell from his table? What madneſs,
what ſpite, what defpair do now torment him for refuſing,
when time was, ſo eaſy a means to gain his falvation.
Wherefore although it be true, that the whole time of our
life is an occafion of obtaining eternal glory, yet in the paf
fage of life there are fome particular actions and fucceffes,
upon which our falvation doth more especially depend, by
which we do either difoblige God Almighty by rejecting
them, or by embracing them oblige him (if I may fo fay) to
favour us. Such a one was that of holy Jofeph, who rather
than he would offend his Creator, fled from his wanton mif-
treſs, and left his garment in her hands. This was an ex-
cellent act, by which he much obliged God Almighty, and
deferved to receive thofe favours which were after bestowed
upon him. In the fame manner Sufanna layed hold on a
great occafion for the faving of her foul, when ſhe choſe ra-
ther to die, than to confent to the filthy pleaſure, whereun-
to ſhe was invited by thofe wicked elders. No opportunity
ought to pass us without fhewing ourselves quick and active,
in laying hold of it greedy of pleaſing God Almighty, ob-
liging him by fome brave and heroical act, with which oc-
cafion fhall prefent us. Wherefore the wife man faid (k),
"Be not defrauded of thy good day, and let no portion of
"a good gift overflip thee. Tully defined occafion to be a
"part of time fitted for the doing of fomething. Mitbri-
"dates faid, it was the mother of all things which were to
"be done. And Polobius, that which ruled all humane af-
"fairs." And there is no doubt but fome conjunctures of
times happen, which preſent us with great occafions of me-
rit by working excellent virtues, and performing moſt hero-
ical actions, which if made good ufe of, do much affure our
falvation. Wherefore it is by fome placed amongst the figns
of predestination to have performed fome great and no-
ble action of virtue. Let us fee what benefit fome have
made of occaſion in temporal bufineffes, that we may not
be lefs careful and folicitous in matters eternal. Rachel,
with what diligence did the run to hide, and cover the idols,
which he had ftolen from her father? with what diligence
did Abigail go forth to meet David, omitting nothing where-
L
(k) Eccl. 13.
by
82
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
by the might appeafe his fury? and certainly if he had pro-
tracted never fo little time, he had run into evident danger
of lofing the lives of herfelf, her husband and family. With
what folicitude did Abraham puríue the five kings which car-
ried away captive his nephew Lot? With what fpeed did
Saul gather together his army for the relief of Fabes Galaad?
It behoves us no le's to gain Heaven. Let us not be more
dull and flow in gaining that, than they were in getting and
procuring things of the earth. Let us hear with what dili-
gence and hate the wife-man adviſes us, to accomplish the
promiſe we have made unto a mortal man (1). My fon,
"if thou shalt be furety for a friend, and haft ftruck hands
"with a ſtranger, thou haft ensnared thyself in the words of
thy mouth, and art taken in thy own fpeeches. Do there-
"fore, my fon, what I fay unto thee, and deliver thyself,
"becauſe thou art fallen into the hands of thy neighbours.
"Run, make hafte, awake thy friend, give no fleep unto
thy eyes, nor let thy eye lids flumber: rid thyself from
"his hands, as the mountain-goat, or the bird from the
"hand of the hunter." Thoſe who are engaged unto the
devils by their fins, let them mark with what diligence they
ought to free themſelves, without losing time or occafion;
and thoſe who are obliged unto God for his infinite bene-
fits, and have paffed unto him their promifes of amend-
ment, let them mark how they ought to fatisfy them, by
making ufe of all means pollible of being reconciled unto
him: let them make hafte, as the wife man fays, let them
not to be tepid and flow, let them not give fleep unto their
eyes, or cloſe their eye lids, that they may without lofing
the leaſt occafion efcape from hell, and the flavery of Satan.
Pity it is that any occafion fhould flip from us without bene-
fit; a lamentable mifery that our lives fhould pafs away in
the things of the earth, without feeking after thofe of hea-
ven; man's life being fo fhort and narrow for the meriting
of a thing fo long and infinite, as are the joys of eternity.
With reafon did the apoftle admonish us:
This I fay
"unto you brethren, Time is ſhort; that which remains
is, that thoſe who have wives, be as if they had them
<< not, and thoſe who weep, as if they did not weep, and
"thoſe who rejoice, as if they rejoiced not, and those who
buy, as if they poffeffed not, and thofe which uſe this
"world, as if they ufed it not, becauſe the figure of this
" world
(1) Prov. 6.
CAP. XV.
83
the Temporal and Eternal.
"world paffes." The apoftle confidering the great fhort-
nefs of time, wills us fo to fettle ourſelves in the matters of
our falvation, and of the other life, that we remain in thoſe
of this as ſtrangers, ufing them as if we uſed them not.
Let us confider then that if we fuffer occafion in the ſhort
time of this life to over-flip us, that all hope of remedy will
fail us in the next. It is not void of inftruction which is
feigned by the ancients, That Jupiter bestowed upon a
certain perfon, a veffel filled with all forts of goods and blef-
fings: who overjoyed with the greatness of the gift, which
contained all that was to be wifhed for, and impatient of
enjoying them one by one, and every good in his proper
time and feafon, would needs have them all at once.
Whereupon he haftily and indifcreetly opened the veffel;
but they were no foonet diſcovered, but all flew into the air
and vanished, and for all the diligence and hafte he was
able to uſe in ſhutting it, he could retain none but hope,
which only remained behind. But far otherwife is it with
the occafion of our falvation which although it contains
all happiness and bleffings, yet being fuffered to pafs, there
remains not behind fo much as hope, but in the place of it
repentance, deſpair, and eternal forrow, and ſo much the
more in that it happens by our own faults. When king
Joas (mote the ground thrice, and was told by the prophet
Elizeus, that if he had fmitten it fix or feven times, he had
ruined and utterly made an end of the Syrians, what grief
and affliction did he conceive in his mind, that having had
an occaſion of ſo much happiness, he had not made uſe of
it, although the misfortune chanced without his fault? Bu
the miferable damned in hell, when they fhall perceive that
by their own fault, they have loft the occafion of fo great
bleffings as are of thofe of heaven, it is incredible what grief
and refentment fhall poffefs them.
CA P. XV.
What is time according to Plato and Plotinus, and bow de
ceitful is all that which is temporal.
THAT we may yet better underſtand the ſmallneſs and
baſeneſs of all which is temporal, I will not pafs in fi-
L 2
lence
84
The Difference betwixt
LIB. I.
lence the defcription of time made by Plotinus, a famous
philofopher amongst the Platonicks, who fays, that Time is
an image, or shadow of eternity, which is comformable unto
holy fcripture; not only unto that of David, when he lays,
that Man paffes in a figure, that is, in time: but unto that
of the wife-man, who defines time in theſe words (m), Our
time is the paffing of a shadow: which is no more than the
imperfect, moveable, and vain image of a thing confiftent
and folid. Job (n) alſo ſays, As a fhadow are our days upon
the earth. And the prophet David elſewhere, My days bave
Aided away as a shadow. And in many other places of
fcripture the fame compariſon is ufed, to fignify the fwift-
nefs of time, and the vanity of our life. Neither is it with-
out myſtery, that the fame compariſon is ſo often uſed in
thoſe facred writings. For truly few comparifons can be
found more apt and proportionable for the expreffing of
what is time and eternity, than that of the ftatue and the fha-
dow of it. For as a ftatue remains for many years
and ages
firm, ftable and immoveable, without encreafe or diminu-
tion, whilft the fhadow is in continual motion, now great-
er, now leffer: So it is with time and eternity. Enity is
firm, fixed and immoveable, without receiving lefs or more.
Time is ever moving and changing as the fhadow, which
is great in the morning, lefs at mid-day, and towards night
returns to its former greatnefs, every moment changing and
moving from one fide unto another. In the fame manner
the life of man hath no inftant fixed, but ftill goes on in
perpetual changes, and in the greateſt profperity, is for the
moft part
fhorteft. Aman (o) the fame day he thought to
fit at the table of king Affuerus, by whom he had been ex-
alted above all the princes of his kingdom, was ignomini-
oufly hanged. Holofernes (p) when he hoped to enjoy the
beſt day of his life, was miferably beheaded by a woman.
King Baltaflar (q) in the moft folemn and celebrated day
of his whole reign, wherein he made oftentation of his great
riches ond royal entertainment, was flain by the Perfians.
Herod (r) when he moſt defired to fhew his majeſty, being
cloathed in a rich habit of tiffue, embroidered with gold,
and by the acclamations of the people faluted as a God, was
mortally ſtruck from heaven. There is nothing conſtant in
(m) Sap. 2.
(n) Job. 8.
(P) Jud. 13.
(0) Efth. 3. & 7.
88%
(q) Dan. 5.
(F) Acts. 12.
this
}
CAP. XV.
85
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
this life. The Moon hath every month her changes: but
the life of man hath them every day, every hour. Now he
is fick, now in health, now forrowful, now merry, now cho-
lerick, now fearful: in fo much as Sineftus (s) not without
reafon, compared his life unta Euripus, a ftreight of the fea,
which ebbs and flows feven times in a day, as the moſt con-
ftant (which is the most just man) in the world falls every
day feven times. The fhadow wherefoever it paffes leaves
no track behind it and of the greateſt perfonages in the
world, when they are once dead, there remains no more
than if they had never lived. How many preceding empe-
rors in the Affyrian monarchy were lords of the world, as
well as Alexander and now we remain not only ignorant
of their monuments, but know not fo much as their names ?
And of the fame great Alexander, what have we at this day,
except the vain noife of his fame? Let that company of
philofophers (t) inform us, who the day following affembled
at his dead corps. One of them faid, Yefterday the whole
circumference of the world fufficed not Alexander; this day
two yards of ground ferve his turn. Another in admiration
cried out, Yeſterday Alexander was able to redeem innume-
rable people from the hands of death, this day he cannot
free hinfelf. A third exclaims, Yeſterday Alexander oppref-
fed the whole earth, and this day the earth oppreffes him,
and there is no foot-ftep in it left by which he paffed.
Moreover how great is the difference betwixt a ftatue of
gold or marble, and the fhadow? That is folid, and of a
precious fubftance: and this hath no being or body. In
the fame manner the life eternal is moſt precious, and of
great concernment, the temporal vain and miſerable without
fubitance. The fhadow hath no other being but to be a
privation of the most excellent quality in nature, and of the
most beautiful thing in the world produces, which is the
light of the fun. In the fame manner this life without fub-
ftance or being is a privation of our greatest happineſs.
Wherefore Job faid (u), His days filed away, and his eyes
ſaw not what was good. This ſaid he, who was a prince,
and poffeffed great riches, and many fervants, and a nu-
merous family and yet he fays, that in his life he faw not
what was good; which he might fay with much truth: be-
(s) Sinefius hym. 6.
(t) Petrus Alfonfus & Rikelius de noviff. art. 4.
(u) Job. 9.
cauſe
86
LIB. I.
The Difference betwixt
cauſe the goods of this life are not to be called fuch, and if
they were, yet the pleaſures of them endure ſo ſhort a ſpace,
as they are done before we are ſenſible of them; and if they
ſhould continue fome time, yet being fubject to end, they
are to be eſteemed as if they were not. The which was
confeffed by a certain cavalier called Rowland (x), who
having been prefent at a feaft celebrated with great coft and
bravery, to the high content and fatisfaction of the invited
guests at night when he returned home, cried out with
much bitterneſs of fpirit, Where is the feaft we had to day?
where is the glory of it? how is this day paft without leav-
ing any trace behind it? even fo fhall the rest of this life
pafs, without leaving any thing to fucceed it, but eternal
forrow. This confideration fufficed to make him change
his life, and the next day to enter into religion.
And as in
a ſhadow all is obfcurity, fo this life is full of darkneſs and
deceit. Whereupon Zacharias faid, That men fat in dark-
nefs, and in the fhadow of death. Much are we deceived
whilft we live in this body of death, fince this life, although
fhort, appears long unto us, and being miſerable, yet we
are pleaſed and content with it: and being nothing, yet it
feems as if it were all things; and there is not any danger
which men undergo not for the love they bear it, even unto
the hazard of eternity. Doubtlefs this is the most prejudici-
al quality of temporal life, that having in itſelf no truth or
reality, yet it paints and fets forth that'falſe ware, which it
hath, with much beauty and luftre to our perdition. Where-
fore Efchylus faid, That it was not only a fhadow of life,
but alſo a ſhadow of ſmoak, which blinds and ſmuts, and is
a thing ſo inconftant and vain; which is alfo fuitable to
that of David, when he ſaid, That his days vanished like
fmoak, and grew towards an end like a fhadow; joining to-
gether the fhadow and fmoak, two things the moſt vain of
any in the world. Even Pindarus exaggerates it yet more,
faying, That it was no ſhadow, but the dream of a ſhadow;
and what is it elſe but to dream, to perſuade one's felf that
this life is long, and hope for profperity in it? This certain-
ly is the greatest deceit which is put upon man, and the chief
cauſe of all his evils, that he fuffers not himſelf to be perfu-
aded what life is, and the ſhortnefs of it. For as the fhadow
is nothing less than the ftatue whofe fhadow it is, yet appears
like it, and is the figure of it: ſo although this life be moſt
(x) Hift. de S. Dom.
ſhort,
CAP. XV.
87
the Temporal and Eternal.
ſhort, and nothing less than eternity, yet it looks like it, and
unto us it ſeems, as if it were eternal. This is a moft hurt-
ful and coftly coufenage. For if life fhould appear what it
is, and not lie unto us, we ſhould not put our truſt in it, nor
make ſuch eſteem of thofe goods and bleffings, which it pro-
mifes, which in themſelves are fo deceitful and uncertain;
but being at it is an image and a ſhadow, all which it pro-
pofes unto us, is but feigned and diffembled, promifing
great happiness, when it is only full of mifery and calamity,
although difguifed in fuch manner as we know them not.
How contented goes the bride unto her marriage-bed, and
yet within a fhort time, laments her unfortunate choice?
with what guſt does the ambitious man enter upon his office,
which is but a feminary of future forrow and vexation?
what joy do thofe riches bring along with them, which in
the end, are to be the death of the poffeffor? All is deceit,
diffimulation, falſehood and prejudice: and yet we like fran-
tick people, are not fenfible of our mifchiefs. Unto how
many infirmities is the body of a man expofed? with what
imaginations is he afflicted and deceived? with how many
labours and toils does he daily wreftle? with what thoughts
and apprehenfions doth he torment himfelf? what dangers
of foul and body doth he run into? what fopperies is he
forced to behold? what injuries to fuffer? what neceffities.
and afflictions? Nay ſuch is our whole life, that it ſeemed
unto St. Bernard (y), little leſs evil than that of hell, but
only for the hope we have of heaven. Our infancy is full
of ignorance and fears, our youth of fins, our age of forrow,
and our whole life of dangers. There is none content with
his condition, but he who will die whilft he lives: infomuch
as life cannot be good, unleſs it must refemble death. Fi-
nally, as the ſhadow is in fuch manner an image, as it re-
prefents all things to the contrary, fo as he who ſhall place
himſelf betwixt the ftatue and the fhadow, fhall perceive that
that which is upon the right-hand of the ftatue, the fhadow
repreſents upon the left, and what it has upon the left, the
fhadow hath upon the right: fo time is in fuch manner the
image of eternity, as it has all its properties to the contrary.
Eternity hath no end, but life and time have a fpeedy one.
Eternity hath no change: but nothing is more mutable than
time. Eternity fuffers no compariſon by reaſon of its infinite
greatnefs: but life and all the goods of it, are ſhort and little,
and derived from the earth, which is but a point.
(y) Sermo de afcen. Domini.
THE
a
my anda ar
ॐ
THE SECOND BOOK
OF THE
DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL and ETERNAL.
K
L
CA P. 1.
Of the End of Temporal Life.
ET us now confider, how contrary unto the conditi-
ons of eternity are thofe, which accompany this our
miferable life. Let us begin with the firft; which is
to be limited and ſubject to an end. In which two things
áre to be confidered, The end, and the manner of it, which
perhaps is of more mifery than the end itfelf. And truly,
although the end of life fhould fall under humane election,
and that it were in the power of man to make choice, how
many years he would continue in life, and after what man-
ner he would then leave it, and that it might conclude fome
other way than by death or fickneſs, yet the confideration,
that it, and all things temporal were to perifh, and at laft to
have an end, were fufficient to make us defpife it, and that
very thought would drown all the pleafures and contents
which it could afford us. For as all things are of greater or
leffer eſteem, according to the length and ſhortness of their
duration, fo life being to end, be it in what manner foever,
is much to be difvalued. A fair veffel of chryflal, if it were
as
CAP. I.
89
the Temporal and Eternal.
as confiftent and durable as gold, were more precious than
gold itſelf but being frail and fubject to break, it lofes its
eftimation; and although of itfelt it might laft long, yet
being capable by fome carelefs mifchance of being broken,
it becomes of much leſs value. In the fame manner, our
life which is much more frail than glaſs, being ſubje& to
perish by a thoufand accidents, and though none of them
fhould happen, could not long continue, fince it confumes
itself, muſt needs together with thofe temporal goods, which
attend it, be moft contemptible. But confidering that the
ending of it, is by the way of death, infirmities and misfor-
tunes, which are the harbingers, and prepare the way for
death, it is to be admired, that man, who knows he is to die,
makes account of temporal felicity, feeing the mifery, in
which the profperity of this world, and the majefty of the
greateſt monarchs are at laft to finish. Wherein ended king
Antiochus (a), lord of fo many provinces, but in a difcon-
folate and mortal melancholy in a perpetual waking, which
with want of fleep, bereft him of his judgment; in a griev-
ous torture in his belly, which forced him to void his very
entrails; in a perpetual pain in his bones, that he was not
able to move? And he who feemed to command the waves
of the fea, and that the higheſt mountains of the earth hung
upon his finger ends, whofe majefty was once lifted up a-
bove all human power, could not then preferve himſelf in
his own kingdom, nor move one pace from the place where
they layed him: he, who cloathed himſelf in foft filks, and
pure linens, he whofe garments were more fragrant than the
moft precious fpices, caft now fuch a ſmell from his putrifi-
ed members, that none could endure his prefence; and be-
ing yet alive, his whole body fwarmed with loathfome ver-
min, his fleſh dropped away by pieces, and he above all re-
maned diſtracted in his wits, raging with deſpite and mad-
neſs. Let us now confider Antiochus in all his pomp and
glory, glittering in gold, and dazzling the eyes of the be-
holders, with the fplendor of his diamonds, and precious.
jewels, mounted upon a ftately courfer, commanding over
numerous armies, and making the very earth tremble under
him. Let us then behold him in his bed pale and wan, his
ftrength and fpirits ſpent, his loathfome body flowing with
worms and corruption, forfaken by his own people, by reaf-
on of his peftilential and poiſonous flink, which infected his
M
(a) 1 Machab. 6. 2 Machab. 9.
whole
90
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
Who
whole camp, and finally dying mad, and in a rage.
ſeeing ſuch a death would wish the felteity of his life? who
with the condition of his mifery, wou'd defire his fortune?
See then wherein the goods of this life conclude. And as
the clear and ſweet waters of Jordan end in the filthy mud
of the dead ſea, and are ſwallowed up in that noiſome bitu-
men fo the greateft fplendor of this life concludes in death,
and thoſe loathfome difeafes which ufually accompany it.
Behold in what a fink of filth ended the two Hirods (b),
most potent princes, Afcalonita and Agrippa. This, who
cloathed himself in tiffue, and boaſted a majeſty above hu-
mane, died devoured by worms, which whilft he yet lived,
fed upon his corrupted and apofthumated flesh, flowing with
horrible filth and matter. Neither came the other Alcalonita
to finiſh his days more happily, being confumed by lice:
that nafty vermin by little and little bereaving him both of
his life and kingdom. King Achab (c), conqueror of the
king of Syria, and 32 other princes, died wounded by a
chance-arrow, which pierced his body, and ftained his royal
chariot with his black gore, which was afterwards licked up
by hungry dogs, as if he had been fome favage beaft. Nei-
ther died his fon Joram (d) a more fortunate death, run
through the heart with a fword, his body left upon the field
to be devoured by birds and beafts of prey, wanting in his
death feven foot of earth to cover him, who in life com-
manded a kingdom. Who could have known Cæfar, who
had firſt ſeen him triumph over the conquered world, and
then beheld him gafping for a little breath, and weltring in
his own blood, which flowed from three and twenty wounds
opened by fo many flabs? Who could believe it were the
fame Cyrus, he who fubdued the Medes, conquered the Af
fyrian and Chaldæan empire; he who amazed the world
with thirty years fuccefs of continued victories, now taken
prifoner, and put to an ignominious death, by the command
of a woman? Who could think it were the fame Alexan-
der (e), who in fo fhort a time fubjugated the Perfians, In-
dians, and the beſt part of the known world, and ſhould af-
ter behold him conquered by a Calenture, feeble, exhauſted
in body, dejected in fpirit, dried up and parched with thirſt,
without tafte in his mouth, or content in his life, his eyes
funk, his nofe fharp, his tongue cleaving to his pallat, not
being
li
(b) Acts. 12. Vide Jofephum. (d) 3 Reg. 22.
(c) 3 Reg. 20.
(e) Plut. in ejus vita.
CAP. I
the Temporal and Eternal.
being able to pronounce one word? What an amazement
is it, that the heat of a poor fever, fhould confume the
mightief power and fortune of the world; and that the
greatest of temporal and humane profperities fhould be
drowned, by the overflowing of one irregular and inordi-
nate humour ?
How great a monſter is human life, fince it confifts of fo
difproportionable parts, the uncertain felicity of our whole
life, ending in a most certain mifery? How prodigious were
that monſter, which ſhould have one arm of a man, and the
other of an elephant, one foot of a horſe, and the other of a
bear? Truly the parts of this life, are not much more fuit-
able. Who would marry a woman, though of a comely
and well proportioned body, who had the head of an ugly
dragon? certainly although he had a great dowry, none
would covet fuch a bed-fellow. Wherefore then do we wed
ourſelves unto this life, which although it ſeems to carry a-
long with it, much content and happiness, yet is in effect no
lefs a monster: fince although the body appears unto us
beautiful and pleafant, yet the end of it is horrible, and full
of mifery? And therefore a philofopher faid well, that the
end of things was their head and as men were to be known
and diftinguished by their faces, fo things by their ends;
and therefore who will know what life is, let him look upon
the end. And what end of life is not full of mifery? Let
no man flatter himself, with the vigour of his health, with
the abundance of his riches, with the fplendour of his autho-
rity, with the greatneſs of his fortune: for by how much he
is more fortunate, by fo much thall he be more miſerable;
fince his whole life is to end in mifery. Wherefore Agefi-
laus hearing the king of Perfia cried up for a moſt fortunate
and happy prince, reprehended thofe who extolled him,
faying, Have patience; for even king Priamus (f), whoſe
end was fo lamentable, was not unfortunate at the age of
the king of Perfia: giving us to underftand, that the moſt
happy were not to be envied, whilst they lived, by reafon of
the uncertainty of that end whereunto they are fubject,
How many as yet appear moſt happy, whofe death will
fhortly diſcover the infelicity of their lives? Epaminondas (g)
when they asked him who was the greatest captain, Cabrias,
Ipbicrates, or himfelt, anfwered, that whilt they lived no
M 2
(f) Plutar. in ejus vita.
(g) Plutar. in Apoph. Græcis.
man
92
LIB. II
The Difference betwixt
man could judge, but that the last day of their lives would
deliver the ſentence, and give each one their due. Let no
man be deceived in beholding the proſperity of a rich man;
let him not meafure his felicity by what he fees at prefent,
but by the end, wherein he shall conclude: not by the fump-
tuoufneſs of his palaces, not by the multitude of his fervants,
not by the bravery of his apparel, not by the luftre of his
dignity; but let him expect the end of that which he fo
much admires, and he fhall then perceive him at beſt to die
in his bed, dejected, difmayed, and ftrugling with the pangs
and anxieties of death; and if fo he comes off, well; other-
wife the daggers of his enemy, the teeth of fome wild beaſt,
or a tile thrown upon his head by fome violent wind, may
ſerve to make an end of him, when he leaſt thinks of it,
This reafon tells us, although we had no experience of it.
But we feet daily confirmed by the teftimony of thofe, who
are already in the gates of death and no man can better
judge of life, than he who ftands with his back towards it.
Mago (h), a famous captain amongst the Carthaginians,
and brother to the great Hannibal, being mortally wounded,
confeffed this truth unto his brother, faying, "O how
>
66
:
great a madneſs it is to glory in an eminent command!
"The estate of the most powerful is fubject to moſt impe-
"tuous ſtorms, whofe end is to be funk and overthrown.
"O how wavering and uncertain is the heigth of the great-
"eft honours! falfe is the hope of man, and vain is all his
glory, affected with feigned and fawning flatteries. Q
" uncertain life, due unto perpetual toil and labour ! what
"doth it now profit me to have fired fo many ſtately and
"lofty buildings, to have destroyed fo many cities and their
"people? What doth it now profit me (O brother) to have
"raifea fo many coftly places of marble, when I now die
" in the open field, and in the fight of heaven? O how
many things doft thou now think of doing, not knowing
"the bitterness of their end? Thou beholdeſt me now dy-
"ing, and know that thou alfo fhalt quickly follow me."
§. 2.
But let us forbear to look upon thofe feveral kinds of
death, which are incident to human nature.
confider that, which is eſteemed the most happy,
(b) Dionyfius Caith. de noviff. Art. 5.
Let us only
when we
die
CAP. L
93
the Temporal and Eternal.
die not fuddenly or by violence, but by fome infirmity,
which leiſurely makes an end of us, or by a pure reſolution
which naturally brings death along with it. What greater
mifery of man's life than this, that that death fhould be ac-
counted happy; not that it is fo, but becauſe it is leſs mif-
erable than others? for what grief and forrow doth not he
pafs, who dies in this manner? how do the accidents of his
infirmities affli&t him? The heat of his fever which fcorch-
ed his entrails. The thirst of his mouth which ſuffers him
not to speak, The pain of his head which hinders his at-
tention, The fadnefs and melancholy of his heart, proceed-
ing from the apprehenfion that he is to die, befides other
grievous accidents, which are uſually more in number than
a human body hath members to fuffer, together with reme-
dies which are commonly no lefs painful than the evils
themſelves. To this add, the grief of leaving thoſe he loves
beſt: and above all, the uncertainty whither he is to go, to
heaven or hell. And if only the memory of death, be faid
to be bitter, what fhall be the experience? Saul, who was a
man of great courage, only becauſe it was told him that the
next day he was to die, fell half dead upon the ground with
fear. For what news can be more terrible unto a finner,
than that he is to die, to leave all his pleafure in death, and
to give an account unto God for his life paft? If lots were
to be cast, whether one fhould have his flesh plucked off
with burning pincers, or be made a king, with what fear
and anxiety of mind would that man expect the iffue? how
then ſhall he look, who in the agony of his death wreſtles
with eternity, and within two hours ſpace looks for glory or
torments without end? What life can be counted happy, if
that be happy which ends with fo much mifery? If we will
not believe this, let us afk him who is now paffing the tran-
ces of death, what his opinion is of life. Let us now en-
quire of him when he lies with his breaft fticking forth, his
eyes funk, his feet dead, his knees cold, his vifage pale, his
pulfes without motion, his breath fhort, a Crucifix in one
hand and a Taper in the other, thoſe who affift at his death
bidding him fay, Jefus, Jefus, and adviſing him to make
an act of contrition, what will this man fay his life was,
but by how much more profperous, by fo much more vain,
and that all his felicity was falfe and deceitful, fince it came
to conclude in fuch a period? what would he now take for
all the honours of this world? Certainly I believe he would
part
*
94
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
part with them at an eafy rate. Nay, if they have been
offenfive to God Almighty, he would give all in his power
he had never enjoyed them, and would willingly change.
them all for one confeffion well made. Philip the third was
of this mind, and would at that time have exchanged his
being monarch of all Spain, and lord of fo many kingdoms.
in the four parts of the world, for the porter's keys of fome
poor monaftry. Death is a great difcoverer of truth. What
thou wouldeft then wish to have been, be now, whilst it is
in thy power. A fool thou art, if thou negle&t it now when
thou mayeſt, and then with it when it is too late.
is too late. He who
unto the hour of his death, hath enjoyed all the delights the
world can give him, at that hour what remains with him?
Nothing; or, if any thing, a greater grief. And what of
all his penances and labours fuffered for Chrift? Certainly,
if he had endured more than all the martyrs, he shall then
feel no pain or grief of them all, but much comfort. Judge
then if it ſhall not be better for thee to do that now, which
thou fhalt then know to have been the better. Confider of
how little fubftance all temporal things will appear, when
thou shalt be in the light of eternal. The honours, which
they have given thee, ſhall be no more thine: the pleaſures,
wherein thou hast delighted, can be no more thine: thy
riches are to be anothers. See then whether the happines
of this life, which is not fo long as life itſelf, be of that va-
lue, that for it we fhould part with eternal felicity.
I beseech thee ponder what is life, and what is death.
Life is the paffing of a fhadow, fhort, troubleſome and dan-
gerous; a place, which God hath given us in time for the
deſerving of eternity. Confider with thyself why God leads
us about in the circuit of this life, when he might at the firſt
inſtant have placed us in heaven. Was it perhaps that we
fhould here mifpend our time like beafts, and wallow in the
bafe pleaſures of our fenfes, and daily invent new chimera's
of vain and frivolous honours? No certainly, it was not:
but that by virtuous actions we might gain heaven, fhew
what we owe unto our Creator, and in the midst of the
troubles and afflictions of this life, difcover how loyal and
faithful we are unto our God. For this he placed us in the
lifts, that we ſhould take his part, and defend his honour;
for this he entered us into this militia and warfare, (for, as
fob fays, the life of man is a warfare upon earth,) that here
we might fight for him, and in the midst of his and our ene-
mies,
CAP. I.
95
the Temporal and Eternal.
mies, fhew how true and faithful we are unto him. Were
it fit that a foldier in the time of battle fhould ftand difarm-
ed, paffing away his time at dice upon a drum head? and
what laughter would that Roman gladiator caufe, who en-
tering into the place of combat, fhould fet him down upon
the arena and throw away his arms? This does he who
feeks his eaſe in this life, and fets his affections upon the
things of the earth, not endeavouring thoſe of heaven, nor
thinking upon death, where he is to end. A peregrination
is this life; and what paffenger is ſo befotted with the plea-
fures of the way, that he forgets the place whither he is to
go?
go How comeft thou then to forget death, whither thou
travelleſt with ſpeed, and can't not, though thou deſireſt,
relt one ſmall minute by the way? For time, although a-
against thy will, will draw thee along with it. The way of
this life, is not voluntary like that of travellers, but necel-
fary like that of condemned perſons, from the priſon unto
the place of execution. To death thou ſtandeft condemned,
whither thou art now going: how can't thou laugh? A
malefactor after fentence paft, is fo furprized with the ap-
prehenfion of death, that he thinks of nothing but dying.
We are all condemned to die; how come we then to rejoice
in thoſe things which we are to leave fo fuddenly? Who
being led to the gallows, could pleafe himſelf in fome little
flower that was given him by the way, or play with the hal-
ter which was ſhortly to ftrangle him? Since then all of us
even from the inftant we iffue out of our mothers wombs,
walk condemned unto death, and know not whether we ſhall
from thence pafs into hell, (at least we may) how come we
to pleaſe ourselves with the flower, or, to fay better, with the
hay, of fome ſhort gult of our appetites; fince, according to
the prophet, all the glory of the flesh is no more than a little
hay, which quickly withers? How come we to delight in
riches, which oftentimes haftens our deaths? Why confider
we not this, when we are certain that all we do in this
life is vanity, except our preparation for death? In death,
when as there is no time nor remedy left us, we ſhall too
late perceive this truth, when as all the goods of this life
fhall leave us by neceffity, which we will not now leave
with merit.
Death is a general privation of all goods temporal: an
univerfal pillager of all things, which even deſpoils the body
of the foul. For this it is, compared unto a thief, who not
only
96
LIB. II
The Difference betwixi
?
only robs us of our treaſure and fubftance, but bereaves us of
our lives. Since therefore thou art to leave all, why doſt
thou load thyself in vain: What merchant, knowing, that
fo foon as he arrived unto the ports, his hip and goods
fhould both be funk, would charge his veffe! with much
merchandize? Arriving at death thou, and all thou haft,
are to fink and perifh: why dost thou then burthen thyfelf
with that which is not needful, but rather a hindrance to
thy falvation? How many, forbearing to throw their goods.
over-board in ſome great tempeft, have therefore both them-
ſelves and goods been fwallowed by the raging fea? How
many who out of a wicked love to thefe temporal riches,
have loft themſelves in the hour of death, and will not then
leave their wealth when their wealth leaves them, but even
at that time bufy their thoughts more about it than their fal
vation? Wherefore St. Gregory fays (i), That is never loſt
without grief, which is poffeffed with love. Umbertus writes
of a certain man of great wealth, who falling deſperately
fick, and even at the point of death, caufed his treature,
and plate of gold and filver to be brought before him: and
in this manner fpake unto his foul; My foul all this
*promiſe thee, and thou fhalt enjoy it all, if thou wilt not
"now leave my body; and greater things I will beftow
"upon thee, rich poffeffions and fumptuous houfes, upon
"condition thou wilt yet ftay with me." But finding his
infirmity ſtill to encreafe, and no hope left of life, in a great
rage and fury he fell into thefe defperate fpeeches: "But
"fince thou wilt not do what I defire thee, nor abide with
c me, I recommend thee unto the devils:" and immedi-
ately with theſe words miferably expired. In this ſtory may
be ſeen the vanity of temporal things, and the hurt he re-
ceives by them, who poffeffes them with too much affe&ti-
What greater vanity than not to profit us, in a paffage
of the greateſt neceffity and importance? and what greater
hurt than, when they cannot avail our bodies to prejudice
our fouls? That they put an impediment to our falvation,
when our affections are too much fet upon them, were a
fufficient motive, not only to condemn them, but alſo to
deteft them. Robertus de Licio writes, that whilft he adviſed
a fick perfon to make his confeffion, and take care of his
foul, his fervants and other domefticks went up and down
the houſe, laying hold every one of what they could; the
on.
(i) Humbert. in tract de Septemp. timore,
fick
CAP. I.
97
the Temporal and Eternal.
fick man taking notice of it, and attending more to what
they ſtole from him, than to what he ſpake to him about the
falvation of his foul, made deep fighs, and cried out, fay-
ing: Woe be to me, Woe be to me, who have taken fo
much pains to gather riches, and now am compelled to leave
them, and they fnatch them from me violently before my
eyes. O my riches! O my moneys! O my jewels! into
whofe poffeffion are you to fall? and in thefe cries he gave
up
the ghost, making no more account of his foul, than if
he had been a Turk. Vincentius Belovacenfis (k) relates
alfo of one, who having lent four pounds of money, upon
condition, that at four years end they ſhould pay him twelve,
he being in the ſtate of death, a Prieſt went to him and exhort-
ed him to confefs his fins, but could get no other words
from the fick perfon than thefe: Such a one is to pay me
twelve pounds for four, and having faid this died immedi
ately. Much what to this purpofe is a ſtory related by St.
Bernardin of a certain confeffor, who earnestly perfuading a
rich man at the time of his death to a confeffion, could get
no other words from him, but How fells Wool? What
price bears it at preſent? and as the Prieft fpake unto him,
Sir, for God's take leave off this difcourfe, and have a care
of your foul, the fick man ftill perfevered, to inform himſelf
of fuch things he might hope to gain by, aſking him, Fa-
ther, when will the fhips come? are they yet arrived? for
his thoughts were fo wholly taken up with matters of gain.
and this world, that he could neither ſpeak nor think of any
thing, but what tended to his profit. But the Prieſt ſtill
urging him to look to his foul and confefs, all he could get
from him was, I cannot: and in this manner died without
confeffion.
This is the falary which the goods of the earth beſtow on
thoſe who ſerve them, that if they do not leave or ruin them
before their death, they are then certain at leaſt to leave
them, and often hazard the falvation of thofe that doat up-
on them. O foolish Sons of Adam! this fhort life is be-
ftowed upon us for gaining the goods of heaven which are
to laft eternally, and we ipend it in feeking thofe of the
earth, which are to perish inftantly. Wherefore do we not
employ this short time for the purchafing eternal glory, fmce
we are to poffefs no more hereafter, than what we provide
for
(k) Vincen, in fpec, moral.
N
98
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
for here? Wherefore we do not confider this? Wherefore
bufy we ourſelves about temporal things, and the affairs of
this life, which we are inantly to leave, and enter into a
region of eternity? Lefs than a thousand years in reed of
eternity, than a quarter of an hour in refpe& of three ſcore
years. Why are we then negligent in that ſhort time we
are to live, in acquiring that which is to endure for a world
of worlds? Death is a moment placed betwixt this life and
the next, in which we are to traffick for eternity. Let us not
therefore be careless, but let us remember how much it im-
ports us to die well, and to that end let us endeavour to live
well.
§. 3.
Befides all this, although one ſhould die the most happy
death than can be imagined. yet it fuffices to behold the dead
body, when the foul hath left it, how ugly and noifome the
miferable carcafs remains, that even friends flie from it, and
ſcarce dare ſtay one night alone with it. The neareſt and
moft obliged kindred, procure it in all hafte to be carried
out of doors, and having wrapt it in fome coarſe ſheet,
throw it into the grave, and within two days forget it: and
he who in life, could be contained in great and fumptu-
ous palaces, is now content with a narrow lodging of ſeven
foot of earth; he who ufed to rest in rich and dainty beds,
hath for his couch the hard ground, and, as Ifaias faith, for
his matrafs moths, and for his covering worms, his pillows,
at beft, the bones of other dead perfons; then heaping upon
him a little earth, and perhaps a grave-ſtone, they leave his
fleſh to be feasted on by the worms, whilft his heirs triumph
in his riches. He who gloried in the exerciſe of arms, and
was uſed to revel at balls and feafts, is now ftiff and cold,
his hands and feet without motion, and all his fenfes with-
out life. He who with his power and pride trampled upon
all, is now trod under foot by all. Confider him eight days
dead drawn forth of his grave, how gaftly and horrible a
fpectacle he will appear; and wherein differ from a dead
dog thrown upon a dunghill? Behold then what thou pam-
pereft; a body, which fhall perhaps, within four days, be
eaten by fome loathfome vermin. Whereupon doft thou
found thy vain pretenfions, which are but caſtles in the air,
founded upon a little earth, which turning into duſt, the
whole
CAP. I.
99
the Temporal and Eternal.
whole fabrick falls to the ground? See wherein all human
greatnefs concludes, and that the end of man is no leſs loath-
fome and miferable, than his beginning. Let this confide
ration ferve thee, as it hath done many fervants of Chrift,
to defpife all things of this life, Alexander Faya (1) writes,
that having opened the vault, wherein lay interred the body
of a principal Count, they who were prefent, perceived upon
the face of the dead perfon, a Toad of an extraordinary
greatnefs, which accompanied with many other filthy and
loathfome worms and vermin, was feeding upon his fleſh:
which cauſed fo great a horror and amazement, that they
all fled: Which fo foon as it came unto the knowledge of
the fon of that Count, who was then in the flower of his
age, he would needs go and behold the fpectacle: and look-
ing feriously upon it, he broke into thefe fpeeches; "Theſe
are the friends, which we breed and provide for with our
"delicacies; for theſe we rest upon foft beds, and lodge in
"gilt chambers, adorned with tapeſtries, and make them
""
*
grow and encreafe with the vanity of our dainties. Were
"it not better to prevent them by fats, and penances, and
"auſterities in our life, that they may not thus infult upon
"us after death?" With this confideration quitting his
fair poffeffions, and flying privately away, accompained on-
ly with a lively defire of being poor for Chrift, which he ac-
counted for the greateft riches, he came to Rome, where
chaſtifing his body with much vigour, and living in the ho-
ly fear of the Lord, he at last became a Collier, and by his
labour, fustained his poor life. Finally, coming one day
unto the city to fell his coals, he fell into a grievous fickneſs,
which having endured with marvellous patience, he at laſt
delivered his moft happy foul into the hands of his redeem-
er and at that very inflant of his death, all the bells of the
city rung themfelves; with which miracle, the Pope and
the Roman court being marvellouſly aſtoniſhed, his confef-
for related unto them all that happened, and informed them
both of the condition, and fanctity of the dead perfon; and
there being at the ſame time in Rome, fome gentlemen and
foldiers belonging to the fame prince, who came in fearch
of their maſter, and finding him deceaſed, carried home his
holy body, with much joy and reverence unto his country.
N 2
(1) Alexan. Faya to. 2 Joh. Major verbo. Mors. Ex. 21.
The
100
LIB. II,
The Difference betwixt
The fight of the dead body of the emprefs Donna Iſabella,
wife unto the emperor Charles V. wrought no less effect in
the heart of bleffed Francifco de Borgia, then marquefs of
Lombay, who being appointed to wait upon the corps unto
Granada, where it was to be interred, and being to deliver
it bare-faced according to cuftom, to the end it might appear
to be the fame body, he caufed the fheet of lead, wherein it
was wrapped, to be opened, which immediately caft forth
ſo horrible a ſtench, that thoſe who were prefent, not able to
endure it, were forced to retire; and withal the face appear-
ed fo foul and deformed, that not any of the attendants
durſt take their oath, that that was the emprefs's body.
Who fees not here the vanity of the world? what is of more
refpe&t and esteem, than the bodies of great kings and prin-
ces whilst they live, and now dead, the guards and gentle-
men which are to wait upon them, flie from them? Whọ
are accounted more happy than they, who have the fortune.
to be near their perfons? They are ſpoken unto upon the
knee, as if they were Gods, but being dead, all forfake
them, and even toads, worms and dogs, dare approach and
eat them. A good teftimony of this was queen Jezabell,
whoſe pampered body adored, whilft fhe lived, was, being
dead, ignominioufly torn in pieces by dogs. But to return
to our ſtory; The marquefs remaining alone behind the rest
began to confider what the emprefs once was, and what he
now beheld her. Where was the beauty of that face, but
become worms and putrefaction: where that majefty and
gravity of countenance, which made all reverence her, and
thofe people happy who beheld her, but now grown fo hide-
ous, that her moft obliged fervants leave and abandon her?
Where is now the royal icepter, but refolved into filth and
corruption? This confideration fo changed his heart, that
defpifing what was temporal, and now wholly feeking what
was eternal, he determined never after to ferve that Lord
who was mortal.
1
The very memory of the loathfomeness of a dead body,
may ſerve to make us defpife the beauty of that which is
living, as St. Peter Damian (m) advifes us, faying, "If
"the ſubtle enemy ſhall fet before thee, the frail beauty of
"the flesh, fend thy thoughts prefently unto the fepulcher
of the dead: and let them there fee what they can find
agreeable to the touch, or pleafing to the fight. Confider
(m) Petrus Damianus in Gomor. c. 23.
"that'
CAP. I.
ΙΟΙ
the Temporal and Eternal.
"that poison which now ftinks intolerable, that corruption
which engenders and feeds worms. That dust and dry
"afhes was once foft and lively fleſh, and in its youth, was
Confider thoſe
fubje& to the like paffions as thou art.
rigid nerves, thofe naked teeth, the disjointed diſpoſition
"of the bones and arteries and that horrible diffipation of the
"whole body and by this means, the monſter of this de-
formed and confufed figure, will pluck from thy heart all.
"deceits and illufions." This from St. Peter Damian.
All this is certainly to happen unto thyfelf. Wherefore
dost thou not amend thy evil conditions? this is to be thy
end; unto this therefore direct thy life and actions.. From
hence ſpring all the errors of men, that they forget the end
of their lives, which they ought to have ſtill before their
eyes, and by it to order themselves for the complying with
their obligations. With reafon had the Brachmans their fe-
pulchers placed till open before their doors, that by the me-
mory of death they might learn to live. In this fenfe, is
that axiom of Plato molt true, when he fays, That wifdom
is the meditation of death: becauſe this wholeſome thought
of death, undeceives us in the yanities of the world, and
gives us force and vigour to better our lives. Some authors
write of a certain confeffor (n), who when all his perfuafi-
ons could not prevail with his penitent to do penance for
his fins, contented himself with this promife, that he would
fuffer one of his fervants every night, when he went to bed,
to found theſe words in his ear, Think that thou art to die;
who having often heard this admonition, and profoundly
confidered it with himſelf, he at laſt returned unto his con-
feffor, well difpofed to admit of ſuch penance as ſhould be
enjoined him. The fame thing happened to another, who
having confeffed to the Pope very heinous crimes, faid, that
he could not faft, nor wear hair-fhirts, nor admit of any
other kinds of aufterity. His holineſs having communicated
the matter to God, gave him a ring with this pofie: Memen-
to mori; Remember thou art to die: charging him, that as
often as he looked upon the ring, he should read thoſe words
and call death to mind. Few hours after the memory here-
of, cauſed ſuch a change in his heart, that he offered to ful-
fil whatever penance his holineſs ſhould pleaſe to inflict upon
him. For this reafon it feems, God commanded the pro-
(n) Johannes Brom. in Sum. verb. Pœnit. num. 12.
phet
102
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
phet Jeremy, that he fhould go into the houfe of the Potter,
and that he ſhould there hear his words. Well might the
Lord have fent his prophet into fome place more decent, to
receive his facred words, than where fo many men were dai-
ly employed in dirt and clay; but here was the particular
mystery, whereby we are given to underſtand, that the pre-
fence of fepulchers, wherein is preſerved as in the houſe of
a Potter, the clay of human nature, as it was a place moſt
proper for God to fpeak unto us, that the memory of death
might more deeply imprint his words in our hearts. For this
very reafon, the Devil ftrives with all his power and cun-
ning, to obſtruct us in the memory of death. For what o-
ther cauſe can be affigned, why the meer fufpicion of fome
lofs or notable damage, fhould bereave us of our fleep, and
that the certainty of death, which of things terrible is most
terrible, ſhould never trouble us?
CA P. II.
Remarkable Conditions of the end of Temporal Life.
ESIDES the mifery wherein all the felicity of this world
BESIDES
is to determine, the end of our life, hath other moft
remarkable conditions, very worthy to be confidered, and by
which we may perceive the goods of it to be most contempt-
ible. We will now principally fpeak of three: First, that
death is moſt infallible, certain, and no way to be avoided.
The fecond, that the time is most uncertain, becauſe we
know neither when, nor how it will happen. The third,
that it is but only one, and but once to be experienced, fo
that we cannot by a fecond death, correct the errors of the
first. Concerning the certainty and infallibility of death, it
imports us much to perfwade ourfelves of it; for as it is in-
fallible that the other life fhall be without end; fo it is as
certain that this fhall have it; And as the damned are in
deſpair, to find an end in their torments, fo are we practical-
ly to deſpair, that the pleaſures and contents of this world
are to endure for ever. God hath not made a law more in-
violable than that of death. For having often diſpenſed in
other laws, and by his omnipotent power and pleaſure vio-
lated,
CA P. II.
103
the Temporal and Eternal.
he
lated, as I may ſay, divers times the rights of nature,
neither hath, nor will difpenfe with the law of death, but
hath rather diſpenſed with other laws, that this ſhould ſtand
in force; and therefore hath not only executed the ſentence
of death upon thofe, who in rigour ought to die, but upon
thoſe, unto whom it was in no wife due. In the conception of
Chriſt our Saviour, thoſe eſtabliſhed laws of nature, that
men were not to be born, but by propagation from men, and
breach of the mothers integrity, were difpenfed with. God,
that his laws fhould have no force in Chrift, working two
moſt ſtupendous miracles, and infringing the laws of nature
that his Son might be born of a Virgin Mother, was fo far
from exempting him from the law of death, that death not
belonging to him, as being Lord of the law, and wanting
all fin, even original, by which was contracted death, nay
immortality, and the four gifts of glory, being due unto his
most holy body, as refulting from the clear vifion of the di-
vine effence, which his foul ever enjoyed, yet all this not-
withstanding God would not comply with this right of na-
ture, but rather miraculouſly fufpended by his omnipotent
arm, thofe gifts of glory from his body, that he might be-
come fubje&t unto death; in fo much as God obferves this
law of death with fuch rigour, that doing miracles, that the
law of natare should not be kept in other things, he works
miracles, that the law of death ſhould be obſerved even by
his own Son, who deferved it not, and unto whom it was in
no fort due. And now that the Son of God had taken upon
him the redemption of mankind, for whom out of his moft
infinite charity, it was convenient for him to die the death
of the Crofs, which reafon failing in his moft holy Mother,
unto whom death was not likewife due from original fin, ſhe
being privileged, according to the opinion of most univerfi-
ties, as well in that as many other things by her bleffed Son,
yet would he not exempt her from that inviolable law of
death. What inchantment then is this, that death being fo
certain, we will not fuffer ourſelves to underſtand it, nor be
perfuaded that it is fo? Thou art to die; affure thyſelf of
that. An irrevocable law is this, and without remedy: Thou
muft die. The time will come, when thoſe eyes, with which
thou readefſt this, fhall be burſt and loſe their fight: thoſe
hands, which thou now employeſt, be without ſenſe or mo-
tion that body, which thou moveft from place to place
with fuch agility, fhall be ſtiff and cold: this mouth, which
:
now
104
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
now difcourfes, fhail be mute without breath or ſpirit; and
this flesh, which thou now pampereft, fhall be confumed
and eaten by loathfome worms and vermin. An infallible
thing it is that the time will come, when thou fhalt bé co-
vered with earth, thy body flink and rot, and appear more
noifome, and more horrible unto the fenfes, than a dead
dog putrified upon a dunghill. The time will come when
thou shalt be forgotten, as if thou had'ft never been, and
thofe that paſs fhall walk over thee, without remembering
that fuch a man was born. Confider this, and perfuade
thyfelf that thou muſt die as well as others; that which hath
happened to ſo many, muſt happen alfo unto thee; thou
which art now afraid of the dead, muft die thyself; thou
which loatheft to behold an open fepulcher, where lie the
halt putrified bones and fleſh of others, muſt putrify and rot
tbyfelf. Think upon this feriously, and reflect with thyfelf
foberly, how thou fhalt look when thou art dead; and this
confideration will give thee a great knowledge what thy life
is, and make thee defpife the pleaſures of it.
Truly fuch is the condition of death, that although to die
were only contingent, and no wife certain, yet, becauſe it
might happen, it ought to make us very careful and folici-
tous. If God had at first created the world repleniſhed with
people, and ſome one, before it was known what death was,
had fallen fick of a peftilential fever, and fhould have fuf-
fered in the fight of the reft the accidents of that infirmity,
thoſe violent fits of heat, that fcorching thirst, that restless
unquietnefs of mind and body, toffing and tumbling from
fide to fide, that raging frenzy which bereaves him of his
judgment, and at laft they fhould behold him pale and wan,
wholly disfigured, ftrugling with death, and giving the laſt
gafp, the body after to remain ftiff, cold, and immoveable,
how would they remain aftoniſhed with the fight of that mi-
fery? which would appear much greater, when after three
or four days the body begun to ſmell and corrupt, to be full
of worms and filth. Without doubt a mortal ſadneſs would
feize upon
them all, and every one would fear, left fome
fuch miferable condition might happen unto himself. And
although God ſhould fay, I will not that all fhall die; I will
content myſelf with the death of fome few, but ſhould leave
thoſe uncertain, whom, this would fuffice to make all to
tremble: each one would fear, left he were one of thoſe de-
figned for that misfortune. If then in this cafe, death being
uncertain
CAP. II.
105
the Temporal and Eternal.
uncertain, all would quake; becauſe all might die, why re-
main we fo fup nely carelefs, fince it is fure all muft die?
If death being a doubtful caufe fuch a terror, why do we not
fear it being certain? Nay though God fhould further fay,
that only one of all thoſe in the world fhould die, but did
not declare who that one were, yet all would fear.
Why
then doft thou not now fear, when all men muſt infallibly
'die, and perhaps thou the firſt. But if God ſhould yet für-
ther proceed to reveal that one appointed to die, and he
fhould notwithstanding live in that loofe and careless man-
rter as thou now doft, how would the reſt of the world ad-
mire his negligence and vain temerity? what would they,
fay? certainly they would cry out unto him, Man, thou
that art to turn into duft, why liveft thou in that looſe man-
ner? Man, that art to be eaten by worms, why doft thou
pamper thyfelf? Man, which art to appear before the tri-
bunal of God, why dost thou not think upon the account
that ſhall be demanded from thee? Man, which art to end,
and all things with thee, why dost thou make ſuch eſteem
of vanity? We who are to live ever, well may we build
houſes and provide riches, becauſe we look for no other life
than this, which is never to end; but thou who art but in
this life as a paffenger, and art to leave it to-morrow, what
haft thou to do to build 'houſes? what haft thou to do with
the cares and bufinefs's of this world. Wherefore doſt thou
take thought for thofe temporal things whereof thou haft no
need? Care for thoſe of the other life, wherein thou art to
remain for ever. Thou, thou art he whom God hath de-
figned to die, why dost thou not believe it? or if thou doſt,
why dost thou laugh? why doft thou rejoice? why doſt thou
live to much at eafe in a place where thou art a pilgrim, and
not to reft? leave off the the thoughts of the earth, and
confider whither thou art to go. It is not fitting for thee to
live here in mirth and jollity, but to retire into fome folita-
ry wilderneſs, and there difpofe thyself for that terrible trance
which expects thee.
Let every man therefore fay within himſelf, It is I who
am to die, and refolve into duft; I have nothing to do with
this world; the other was made for me: and I am only to
care for that; in this I am only a paffenger, and am there-
fore to look upon the eternal, whither I am going, and am
there to make my abode for ever. Certain it is, that death
will come and hurry me along with him. All the bufinefs
therefore
Ο
106:
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
J
therefore I have now, is to difpofe myſelf for fo hard an en-
counter; and fince it is not in the power of man to free me
from it, I will only ferve that Lord, who is able to ſave me
in ſo certain and imminent a danger. Much to this purpoſe
for our undeceiving is that ftory let forth by John Major (o).
A certain foldier had ferved a Marquefs for many years with
great fidelity, for which he was favoured by his Lord with a
fingular refpect and affection. The foldier chanced to fall
into his laft infirmity, which no fooner came unto the know-
ledge of the Marquefs but he inftantly came to vifit him,
accompanied with divers expert phyficians, and having en-
quired of his health, and ſpoken many things unto him of
much comfort and dearnefs, offered himself to affift him in
all things which might conduce to his health or content,
and wifhed him boldly to demand what might be uſeful or
available for him, affuring him it fhould be granted without
fpare of coil or trouble. The fick fdldier after much impor-
tunity at laſt intreated the favour of three things, either that
he would afford him fome means to efcape from death,
which he perceived was now ready to leize upon him: Or
that he would mitigate thofe great pains, which he then fuf-
fered, but for the pace of one fhort hour: Or that after he
was departed this life, he would procure him a good lodging,
though but for one night, and no longer. The Marquefs
anfwered, that thole were only in the power of God, and
wifhed him to demand things feafible here upon earth, and
he 'would not fail to ferve him. Unto whom the fick foldier
replied, I now too late perceive all my labour and travail to
be loft, and all the fervices which I have done you, in the
'whole courſe of my life, to be vain and fruitleſs; and turn-
ing himſelf unto thofe who were prefent, fpake unto them
with much feeling and tears in his eyes. My brethren, be-
hold how vainly I have fpent my time, being to precious a
jewel in the ferving of this matter, obeying his commands.
with much care and great danger of my foul, which at this
inftant is the grief I am molt fenfible of: See how fmall is
his power, fince in all theſe pains which afflict me, he is not
able to give me eafe for one hour's ſpace. Wherefore I ad-
'monifh you, that you open your eyes in time, and let my
error be a warning unto you, that you preferve yourſelves
from fo notable a danger, and that you endeavour in this
world, to ſerve 'fuch a Lord, as may not only free you
+
2
(0) Johan. Major, & Alex. Faya. tom. 2.
from
CAP. II.
107
the Temporal and Eternal.
from theſe prefent perplexities, and preferve you from future
evils, but may be able to crown you with glory in another
life. And if the Lord by the interceffion of your prayers,
fhall be pleaſed to restore my health, I promife hereafter, not
to employ myſelf in the ſervice of fo poor and impotent a
maſter, who is not able to reward me, but my whole endea-
vour ſhall be to ferve him, who hath power to prote& me,
and the whole world by his divine virtue. With this great
repentance he died, leaving us an example to benefit our-
felves, by that time which God bestows upon us here, for
the obtaining of eternal reward.
§. 2.
Let us now come unto the fecond condition, which is the
uncertainty of time in the circumftances. For as it is moft
certain that we are to die, ſo it is most uncertain, How we
are to die and as there is nothing more known, than that
death is to ſeize upon all, fo there is nothing lefs underſtood
than when, and in what manner. Who knows whether he
is to die in his old age, or in his youth? if by fickness, or
ftruck by a thunder-bolt? if by grief, or ftabbed by poni-
ards? if fuddenly, or flowly? if in a city, or in a wilder-
nefs? if a year hence, or to day? the doors of death are
ever open, and the enemy continually lies in ambuſh, and
when we leaſt think of him will affault us. How can a man
be careleſs to provide for a danger which ever threatens
him? Let us fee with what art men keep their temporal
things, even at fuch time as they run no hazard. The fhep-
herds guard their flocks with watchful dogs, although they
believe the wolf to be far off, only becauſe he may come:
And walled towers are kept by garrifons in time of peace,
becauſe an enemy either has, or may approach them. But
when are we ſecure of death? when can we fay that now it
will not come? why do we not then provide ourſelves a-
gainſt ſo apparent danger? In frontier towns the centinels
watch day and night, although no enemy appears, nor any
affault is feared; why do we not always watch fince we are
never ſecure from the affaults of death? He who ſuſpeЯed
that thieves were to enter his houſe, would wake all night,
becauſe they ſhould at no hour find him unprovided. It
being then not a fufpicion, but an apparent certainty that
death will come, and we know not when, why do we not
0 2
always
}
108
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
always watch? We are in a continual danger, and there-
fore ought to be continually prepared. It is good ever to
have our accompts made with God, fince we know not but
he may call us in fuch hafte, as we fhall have no time to
perfe&t them. It is good to play fure game, and be ever
in the grace of God. Who would not tremble to hang over
fome vast precipice, wherein if he fell, he were certain to be
daſhed in a thouſand pieces, and that by fo weak a ſupport,
er as a thread? This, or in truth much greater is the dan-
ger of him, who is in mortal fin, who hangs over hell by
the thread of life, a twiſt fo delicate, that not a knife, but
the wind and the leaft fit of fickneſs breaks it. Wonderful
is the danger wherein he ftands, who continues to the space.
of one Ave Maria in Mortal fin. Death hath time enough
to ſhoot his arrow in the fpeaking of a word, the twinkling
of an eye fuffices. Who can laugh and be pleafed whilft he
ftands naked, and difarmed in the midst of his enemies?
Amongst as many enemies is man, as there are ways to
death, which are innumerable. The breaking of a vein in
the body, the bursting of an impofthume in the entrails, a
vapour which flies up to the head, a paffion which oppreffes
the heart, a tile which falls from a houſe, a piercing air
which enters, by fome narrow cranny. Un yerro de cuenta,
a hundred thoufand other occafions open the doors unto
death, and are his minifters. It is not then fafe for man to
be diſarmed, and naked of the grace of God, in the midſt of
fo many adverfaries and dangers of death, which hourly
threaten him. We iffue from the wombs of our mothers
as condemned perfons out of prifon, and walk towards exe-
cution, for the guilt which we have ntracted by original
fin. Who being led to execution would entertain - himfelf
by the way, with vain conceits and frivolous jefts. We are
all condemned perions who go to the gallows though by dif-
ferent ways, which we ourſelves know not: Some the
ftraight-way, and fome by by-paths, but are all fure to meet
in death. Who knows whether he goes the direct way, or
winds about by turns? whether he ſhall arrive there foon or
ftay later all that we know, is, that we are upon the way,
and are not far from thence. We ought therefore ftill to be
prepared, and free from the diftra&ting pleafures of this life,
for fear we fall fuddenly and at unawares upon it. This
danger of ſudden death, is fufficient to make us diſtaſte all
the delights of the earth. Dionyfius king of Sicily, thật hẹ
might
ཟ
CA P. II.
109
the Temporal and Eternal.
might undeɛeive a young philofopher, who therefore held
him to enjoy the chief felicity, becauſe he wanted nothing
of his pleaſure, cauſed him one day to be placed at a royal-
table, and ferved with all variety of fplendid entertainments,
but over the palace, where he was feated, caufed fecretly a
fharp-pointed fword, to be hung directly over his head, fuf-
tained only by a horfe's hair. This danger was fufficient to
make the poor philoſopher to forbear his dinner, and not to
reliſh one morfel of the feast with pleaſure. Thou then who
art no more ſecure of thy life than he, how can't thou de-
light in the pleaſures of the world? he who every moment
expects death, ought no moment to delight in life. This
only confideration of death according to Ricardus, were fuf-
ficient to make us diftatte all the pleafures of the earth. A
great danger or fear fuffices to take away the fenſe of leffer
joys; and what greater danger than that of eternity?
Death is therefore uncertain, that thou fhouldeſt be ever
certain to defpife this life, and difpofe thyfelf for the other.
Thou art every hour in danger of death, to the end that
thou ſhouldeſt be every hour prepared to leave life. What
is death, but the way unto eternity? A great journey thou
haft to make; wherefore doft thou not provide in time, and
the rather, becauſe thou knoweſt not how foon thou mayeſt
be forced to depart? The people of God, becaufe they knew
not when they were to march, were for forty years, which
they remained in the wilderneſs ever in a readineſs. Be
thou then ever in a readineſs, fince thou mayeft perhaps de-
part to day. Confider there is much to do in dying; pre-
pare thyſelf whilſt thou hast time, and do it well. For this
many years were neceffary; wherefore fince thou knoweſt
not whether thou fhalt have one day allowed thee, why doft
thou not this day begin to difpofe thyfelf? If when thou
makeſt a ſhort journey, and has finiſhed and provided thy-
felf of all things fitting, yet thou commonly findeft fome-
thing to be forgotten, how comes it to pafs, that for fo long
a journey, as is the region of eternity, thou thinkeft thyſelf
fufficiently provided, when thou haft fcarce begun to think
of it? Who is there who does not defire to have ferved God
faithfully two years, before death fhould take him? If then
thou art not ſecure of one, why dost thou not begin? Truſt
not in thy health or youth, for death fteals treacherouſly up-
on us, when we leaſt look for it; for according to the faying
of Chrift our Redeemer, it will come in an hour when it is
not
↑
110
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
not thought on. And the apoſtle ſaid, the day of the Lord
would come like a thief in the night, when none were a-
ware of it, and when the maſter of the houſe was in a pro-
found fleep. Promiſe not thyself to-morrow, for thou know-
eft not whether death will come to night. The day before
the children of Ifrael went forth of Egypt, how many of that
kingdom, young lords, and princes of families, promiſed
themfelves to do great matters the next day, ot perhaps
within a year after yet none of them lived to fee the morn-
ing. Wifely did Meffodamus, who, as Guido Bituricenfis
writes, when one invited him forth the next day to dinner,
answered, " My friend, why dost thou fummon me for to-
morrow, fince it is many years that I durſt not promife
any thing for the day following? every hour I look for
"death; there is no truft to be given to ftrength of body,
"youthful years, much riches, or humane hopes." Hear
what God fays to the prophet Amos (p); In that day the Sun
fhall fet at mid-day, and I will over-caft the earth with dark-
nefs in the day of light. What is the fetting of the Sun at
mid day, but when men think they are in the midst of their
life, in the flower of their age, when they hope to live many
years to poffefs great wealth, to marry rich wives, to fhine in
the world? then death comes and over-fhadows the bright-
neſs of their day, with a cloud of forrow; as it happened in
the ſtory related by Alexander Faya (q). Ladiſſaus king of
Hungary and Bohemia, fent a moft folemn embaffage unto
Charles king of France, for the conducting home of that
king's daughter, who was efpoufed unto the prince his fon.
The chief embaffador elected for this journey, was Udabri-
cas bishop of Pafar, for whofe attendants were fele&ted 200
principal men of Hungary, 200 of Bohemia, and other 200
of Auftria; all perſons of eminent birth and nobility, fo rich-
ly clad, and in ſo brave an equipage, that they appeared as
fo many princes; To thefe the bishop added an hundred
gentlemen, chofen out of his own ſubjects; ſo that they paf-
fed through France 700 gentlemen in company, moſt richly
accoutred; and for the greater pomp and magnificence of
the embaffage, there went along with them 400 beautiful
ladies in fumptuous habits, and adorned with moſt coſtly
jewels; the coaches which carried them, were ſtudded with
gold, and enchafed with ftones of value; Befides all this.
were many gifts, and rich garments of ineftimable price,
which
(p) Amos 8.
(q) Alexan. Faya To. 2.
CA P. II.
-LLI
the Temporal and Eternal.
which they brought along with them for prefents. But the
very day that this glorious embaſſage entered Paris, before
they came at the place appointed for their entertainment, a
courier arrived with the news of the death of the efpoufed
prince. Such was the grief that ſtruck the heart of the French
king with fo unexpected a news, as he could neither give an
answer to the embaffage, nor fpeak with the embaſſador, or
thoſe who accompanied him; and fo they departed moſt
forrowful from Paris, and every one returned unto his own.
home. In this manner, God knows by the means of death,
to fill the earth with darkneſs and forrow, in the day of great-
eſt brightneſs, as he fpake by his prophet.
>>
Since then thou knoweft not when thou art to die, think
thou muſt die to day, and be ever prepared for that which
may ever happen. Truſt in the mercies of God, and em-
ploy them inceffantly, but prefume not to defer thy conver-
fion for a moment. For who knows whether thou shalt ever
from hence forward, have time to invoke him, and having
invoked him, whether thou shalt deferve to be heard? Know
that the mercy of God is not, promiſed to thoſe, who there-
fore truft in him, that they may fin with hope of pardon, but
unto thoſe, who fearing his divine juftice, ceaſe to offend
him. Wherefore St. Gregory ſays (r); " The mercies of
Almighty God forget him, who forgets his juftice; nor
"fhall he find him merciful, who does not fear him juft.'
For this it is fo often repeated in fcripture," That the mer-
cy of God is for thoſe who fear him.”
And in one part
is faid," The mercy of the Lord from eternity unto eter-
nity, is upon thoſe who fear him." And in another,
"As the Father hath mercy on his Son, fo the Lord hath
66. mercy on thoſe who fear him.” In another." " Accord-
"ing to the height from earth unto heaven, he has corro-
"borated his mercy upon thofe that fear him." Finally,
the very mother of mercy fays in her divine canticle, "That
"the mercy of the Lord is from generation to generation,
upon thoſe who fear him." Thou fee'ft then, that the
divine mercy is not promiſed unto all and that thou shalt
remain excluded from it whilt thou prefumeft, and doft not
fear his juſtice. And where, I beseech thee, is the fear of his
juſtice, when knowing that thou mayeft die to day, thou
deferreft thy converſion for ſo many years, fo as thy vices
be rather faid to leave thee, than thou them? Mark
cc
σε
may
(r) Greg. in moral.
what
}
112
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
་
what St. Augufline fays; " Repentance in death is very
"dangerous; for in the holy fcripture there is but one only
"found, to wit, the good thief, who had true repentance in
"his end. There is one found, that none fhould deſpair,
"and but one, that none fhould prefume. For in a found
man, repentance is found, in an infirm man'infirm, and
"in a dead man dead." Many deal with God, as king
Dionyfius did with the ftatue of Apollo, from which when he
took his cloak of maffy gold, he faid, This cloak is good
neither for fummer nor winter; for fummer it is too heavy,
for winter too cold. So fome can find no time for the fer-
vice of God Almighty; In youth they fay, it is too early,
and that we ought to allow that age its time of freedom and
pleaſure that when they are old, they will feriouſly think
of virtue, and amendment of life: that the vigour of youth,
is not to be enfeebled with the aufterities of penance, which
renders us infirm and ufelefs, the réft of our fucceeding
lives; But ariving at old age, if by chance they attain it,
they have then many excufes, and pretend that they want
health and ſtrength to perform their penances. After this
manner they would deceive God Almighty, but they remain
deceived themſelves. To the apostle St. James, this man-
ner of ſpeech ſeemed not well; To-morrow we will go to
fuch a city, and there we will ſtay a year, becauſe we know
not what ſhall be to-morrow. If then in temporal things,
it be not good to ſay, I will do this to morrow, what fhall it
be in procuring the falvation of our fouls, to 'fay, Ten or
twenty years hence, when I am old, (which who knows
whether ever fhall be) I will then ferve God and repent? to
what purpofe defer we that until to-morrow, which imports.
fo much to be done to day, eſpecially fince it abfolutely im-
ports, and perhaps will not be to-morrow, if not to day? In
this error was St. Auguftine (s), as he himself confeffes," I
"felt myſelf (faith he) detained; and I ofien repeated thefe
"words: Miferable man, unt when? until when? To-
until
66 morrow, and to-morrow. A why is there not to day
Ar
"an end of my lewd life? This Pfaid, and wept with moſt
"bitter contrition of my heart."
J
§. 3.
To this uncertainty of death, is to be added the third
condition of being only one, and only once to be tried; fo
(3) Aug. Confef.
as
CAP. II.
113
the Temporal and Eternal.
as the error of dying ill, cannot be amended by dying well
another time. God gave unto man his fenfes, and other
parts of his body doubled; he gave him two eyes, that if
one failed, he might ferve himſelf of the other: he gave
him two ears, that if one grew deaf, he might fupply the
defe& by the other: he gave him two hands, that if one
were loſt, yet he might not wholly be diſabled; but of deaths
he gave but one, and if that one miſcarry, all is ruined. A
terrible cauſe, that the thing which most imports us, which is
to die, hath neither trial, experience or remedy it is but
only once to be acted, and that in an inftant, and upon that
instant all eternity depends, in which if we fail, the error is
never to be amended. Plutarch writes of Lamacbus the
centurion that reprehending a foldier for fome error com-
mitted in war, the foldier promiſed him, he would do fo no
more; Unto whom the difcreet centurion replied, Thou
fayeft well, for in war the miſchief which follows the fift
error is ſo great, that thou can't not err twice. And if in
war you cannot err twice, in death you ought not to err
once, the error being wholly irreparable. If an ignorant
peaſant, who had never drawn a bow, fhould be command-
ed to ſhoot at a 'mark far diftant, upon condition that if he
hit it, he would be highly rewarded with many brave and
rich gifts, but if he mist it, and that at the first fhot, he
fhould be burned alive, in what ftreights would this poor
man find himself? how perplexed, that he ſhould be forced
upon a thing of that difficulty, wherein he had no ſkill, and
that the failing fhould cost him fo dear as his life, but eſpe-
cially that it was only once to be effayed, without poffibility
of repairing the first fault by a fecond trial? This is our
cafe. I know not how we are ſo jocund; We have never
died, we have no experience or ſkill in a thing of fo great
difficulty, we are only once to die, and in that all is at a
ſtake, either eternity of torments in hell, or of happineſs in
heaven; how live we then fo careleſs and forgetful of dying
well, fince for it we wer born and are but once to try it?
This action is the most important of all our life, the which
to paſs in the preſence of God and Angels; upon it de-
pends all eternity, and if mift, without repair or amendment.
Thofe humane actions which may be repeated, if one miſs,
the other may hit, and that which is loft in one, may be re-
gained in another. If a rich merchant has this year a ſhip
funk in the ocean, another may arrive the next loaden with
P
fuch
114
LIE. M.
The Difference betwixt
fuch riches, as may recompence the loss of the former And
if a great orator mifcarry in his declamation, and lofe his
credit, he may with another recover it: but if we once fail
in death, the lofs is never to be restored. That which is but
only one, is worthy of aore care and esteem, becauſe the
lofs of it is irreparable. Let us then value the time of this
life, fince there is no other given us, wherein to gain eter-
nity: Let us eſteem that time, wherein we may practice a
precious death, or, to fay better, both a precious life and
death, learning in life how to die. It was well faid by a pi
ous doctor, If those who are to execute fome office, or per-
form ſome matter of importance, or if it be but of pleaſure,
as to dance or play at tennis, yet ftudy firft before they come
to do it: why fhould we not then fludy the art of dying,
which to do wel, is an action more difficult and important
than all others? If a man were obliged to leap fome great
and deſperate leap, upon condition, that if he performtd it
well, he fhould be made a mafter of a wealthy kingdom, but
if ill, he thould be chained to an oar, and made a perpetual
galley-flave. Without all doubt this man would uſe much
diligence in preparing himſelf for fo hazardous an under-
taking, and would often practice before an act on of fo great
confequence, from which he expected fo different fortunes.
How far more different are thofe, which we expect from fo
great a leap, as is that from life to death, fince the kingdoms
of the earth compared with that of Heaven, are traſh and
rubbish, and the tugging of an oar at the gallies. compared
with Hell, a glory? When the leap is great and dangerous,
he who is to leap it, ufes to fetch his career backwards, that
he may leap further, and with greater force. We therefore
knowing the danger of the leap from life to death, that we
may perform it better, we ought to fetch our career far back,
even from the beginning of our fhort life, and from our firſt
ufe of reaſon, from which we fhall know, that the life we
live is mortal, that at the end of it we have a great debt to
pay, and that we are to diſcharge both uſe and principal
when we least think of it. St. John Eleemofynarius relates,
that anciently when they crowned an emperor, the principal
architects preſented him with ſome pieces of feveral ſorts of
marble, wishing him to make choice of fuch as beſt pleaſed
him for his fepulchre, giving him thereby to underſtand
that his reign was to lait fo fhort a time, that it was conve-
nient for him immediately to begin his tomb, that it might
be
CAP. II. the Temporal and Eternal.
115
be finiſhed before his life were ended: and that withal he
could not govern well his vaffals, unless he first governed
himſelf by the memory of death. The others preſent were
alſo admonished by this mystery, that fo foon as reafon be-
gan to command and have dominion in us, that it was then
time to provide for death, and that in the preparation for our
end, confifted the good government and perfection of life.
A perfect life, faith St. Gregory (t), is the meditation of
death and he enjoys a perfe& life, who employs it in the
ftudy of death; he lives well who learns how to die well;
and he that knows not that, knows nothing: all fciences.
befides profit him but little. What did all that he had ftu-
died, and all which he knew profit the great Ariftotle no-
thing; which he himself confeffed being near his death:
For when his difciples befought him, that having in his life-
time beſtowed upon them fo many fair leffons and wife fen-
tences, he would leave them one at his death, This was his
anſwer: I entered this life in poverty, I lived in mifery and
die in ignorance, of that which most imports me to know.
He ſaid well, for he had never ftudied how to die. Many
difciples hath Ariftotle in thofe fciences which he knew, and
many which follow his opinions, but many more who imi-
tate him in the ignorance he had of death.
Let us huſband time, in which we may gain eternity;
which being once loft, we fhall lofe both the time of this life
and the eternity of the other. How many millions are now
in Hell, who whilft they were in this world defpifed time,
and would now be content to fuffer thouſands of years, all
the torments of the damned, for the redemption but of one
inftant, in which they might by repentance recover the eter-
nal life of glory, which is now loft without remedy? and
yet thou caft away not only inftants, but hours, days and
years. Confider what a damned foul would give for fome
part of that time, which thou loveft; and take heed that
thou hereafter, when there fhall be no repair of that time
which thou now fo lavishly mifpendeft, be not thyself in the
fame grief and bitterneſs. O tools, as many as feek vain
entertainments to paſs away the time, as though time would
ſtand ſtill, if they found not divertiſements to make it paſs.
The time of this life flies and over runs thee, and thou lay-
cit not up for the other. Confider how thou mayeſt by time
P.2
(t) Greg. moral. 12.
gain
116
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
gain eternity; look not then upon the lofs of it, as upon
the lofs of time, but of eternity. For in an inftant of time,
thou mayeft gain infinite inftants of what you are to enjoy
for ever, how ſmall a purchaſe for eternity is our time in this
life, which paffes with more fwiftnefs than the wind? con-
fider with what ſpeed death purſues you, it lofes not a mo-
ment, for whilſt thou ſleepeſt, it is in full career; yet thou
dareft idle away the time. Thou fleepeft, fays St. Ambroſe,
(u) and time walks on: be not then a minute idle, ſeeing
thou mayeſt even in that ſhort ſpace, purchaſe heaven for
ever. Time, as faith Nazienzen, is the market or fair of
eternity. Endeavour then, whilft it lafts, to get a good
bargain for this life once paſt, there is no more occafion
of traffick; the time appointed for ftoring up is but ſhort,
and the gain and profit is eternal. Hear what a Heathen
teaches thee, who knew not this great good, that by time
might be purchafed eternity, and yet he fays in this man-
ner (x); "Nature did not beftow time upon us with fuch li-
berality, as that the leaſt particle of it might be caft away.
"Confider how much time is loft, even to the most dili-
gent; fome part the care of our health takes from us,
fome that of our friends, fome our neceſſary occafions
"fome our publick affairs employ, fleep divides life with
us. Of this then ſo ſhort and rapid time which remains,
"what doth it profit us to ſpend the greater part in vain ?”
The fame author adviſes us alſo, (y) that we strive to over
come the ſwiftnefs of time, with our diligence in well ufing
and employing it. If this be Seneca'e counfel who had not
the help of faith, and was ignorant that in an inftant of
time might be gained an eternity of glory, what ought we
to do, who have the light of heaven, the knowledge of eter-
nal happineſs, and the threats of eternal torments? Let us
live ever dying, and let us think every inſtant to be our laft,
fo fhall we not lofe this time which is to precious, and by
which we may gain what is eternal. Let us call to mind
what is faid by St. John Climacus (z).
"The prefent day
" is not well paft, unless we eſteem it to be the last of our
life. He is a good man, who every hour expects death:
"but he is a faint, that every hour defires it."
(u) Ambr. in Pfal. 1. tu dormis, et tempus ambulat.
(x) Seneca Epift. 118.
(y) Lib. de brevitate, vitæ.
(z) Climac. gra. 6.
At
CAP. II.
117
the Temporal and Eternal.
At least let us behave ourſelves as mortals, and let us be-
lieve we are fo, fhewing by our works that we know we are
to die. Let us afk that of God which was prayed for by
David. Lord let me know the fewness of my days. It is ap-
parent that we are to die; it is apparent that we know not
when; it is apparent that we are to die but once; but it is
much more available, as St. Ambrofe notes, when God faith
it, and we difcourfe it in ourſelves. Let us therefore practi-.
cally perfuade ourſelves of this truth, and let not that time
flip from betwixt our hands, which once paſt will never re-
turn. Let us bluſh at the counſel of a heathen, Marcus
Aurelius the emperor, who adviſes us to proceed always con-
ftantly in virtuous actions (a). "Reflect, fays he, upon
"the end of that time which is affigned thee, which if thou
"fhalt not ſpend in procuring the peace of thy mind whilſt
"thou liveft, it will pass away, and never return unto thee
re
being dead; every hour apply thy mind to mark ſeriouſ-
"ly what thou takeft in hand, and do it accurately with
*fortitude as becomes a Roman, with an unfeigned gravi-
ty, humanity, liberality and justice, and in the mean
"time withdraw thy mind from all other thoughts; which
"thou fhalt eafily do, if thou fhalt fo perform each action
"without the mixture of vain glory, as if it were the laſt of
thy life." This is an admirable counfel, that fince thou
knowest thou art to die, and knowest not when, that thou
perform each action as if it were thy laft, and as if in end-
ing it, thou were to expire thyfclf. Above all let us endea-
vour to leave fin and evil inclinations: to leave the cares of
the earth, and to elevate our whole heart and affections unto
Heaven, and there to place our thoughts, which are to be
upright and fettled in God Almighty. A crooked tree when
they cut it down, falls that way it was inclined when it
grew. If one do not bend towards Heaven, whilſt he lives,
which way can he fall in death? it is much to be feared in-
to Hell.
(a) Anton. lib. 2. in princip.
A
CAP.
118
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
f
CA P. III.
Of that Moment which is the medium betwixt Time and
Eternity, which being the end of Life, is therefore most
terrible.
WE E ought then ſeriouſly to confider (which is certainly a
matter of great amazement) all which is to pafs in that
moment of death, from which the time of this life was only
beſtowed upon us, and upon which depends the eternity of
the other. O moſt dreadful point, which art the end of time
and beginning of eternity! O moſt fearful inftant, which
fhutteft up the prefixed term of this life, and determines the
bufinefs of our falvation! O moment, upon which depends
eternity, how oughtest thou to be placed in our thoughts
with profit, that we may not hereafter (when it is too late)
remember thee with repentance! How many things are to
pafs in thee? In the fame instant life is to finish, all our
works to be examined, and that fentence to be given, which
is to be executed for all eternity. O laſt moment of life, O
first of eternity, how terrible is the thought of thee, fince in
thee not only life is to be loft, but to be accounted for, and
we then to enter into a region which we know not! In that
moment I ſhall ceaſe to live, in that moment I fhall behold
my judge, who fhall lay all my fins open before me with all
their weight, number and enormity. In it I ſhall receive a
ftri& charge of all the divine benefits bestowed upon me:
and in it a judgment fhall pass upon me, either for my fal-
vation or damnation eternal. How wonderful is it that for
fo many matters, and of fo great importance, there is no
more time allotted than the space of an inftant, no place
left for reply, interceffion of friends or appeal. O fearful
moment, upon which fo much depends! O most important
inſtant of time and eternity! Admirable is the high wiſdom
of God, which hath placed a point in the midt betwixt time
and eternity, unto which all the time of this life is to relate,
and upon which the whole eternity of the other is to depend.
O moment, which art neither time nor eternity, but art the
horizon of both, and divideft things temporal from eternal!
O nar-
CA P. III.
119
the Temporal and Eternal.
O narrow moment! O molt dilated point, wherein fo many
things are to be concluded, fo ftri&t an account is to be given,
and where fo rigorous a ſentence, as is to be pronounced, is
ever to ſtand in force! A ftrange cafe, that a buſineſs of
eternity is to be refolved in a moment, and no place allowed
for the interceffion of friends, or our own diligence. It will
be then in vain to repair unto the faints in heaven, or the
prieſts upon earth; thoſe will not intercede for thee, nor
can theſe give thee abfolution: becauſe the rigour of the
judge in that inftant wherein thou expireft, allows no further
mercy. St. John fays (b), that heaven and earth fhall fy
from the prefence of the judge. Whither wilt thou then go,
to what place can't thou repair, being the perſon againſt
whom the procefs is commenced? It is therefore faid, that
heaven and earth fhall fly away, becauſe neither the faints
of heaven, fhall there favour thee with their interceffion,
neither can the prieſts of the earth affift thee with the facra-
ments of the church. There fhall be place for nothing that
may help thee. What would then a finner give for leave,
to make one poor confeffion when it is too late? that which
would now ferve thy turn, and thou defpifeft, thou would'ſt
then have done and can't not. Provide thyself therefore
in time whilst it may avail thee, and defer it not until that
inſtant, wherein nothing can do thee good. Now thou
mayeft help thyfelf; now the faints will favour thee; expect
not that moment wherein thy own endeavours will be ufe-
lefs, and wherein the faints will not affift thee. To the end,
we may frame a more lively conceit of what hath been ſaid,
I will relate a ſtory, which St. Peter Damian (c) rehearſeth
in an epistle of his to Pope Alexander the fecond of that
name: whereof the faint fays, it cauſed dread in him as oft-
en as it came to his mind. Thus it was, That two men
going to fell wood in a foreft, there iffued forth a Serpent,
ugly, and of a huge fize, with two heads, and mouths of
both open, thrusting out their tongues with three points or
fmall darts in each of them, and feeming to caſt out fire at
his eyes, fet upon them. One of the two men of more ſpi-
rit and courage, at the first affault of the Serpent, ftruck it
with his hatchet, and cut off one of his heads: but unfortu-
nately let fall his hatchet. The Serpent feeling himſelf
wounded, full of fury and rage, took him at the diſadvan-
(b) Apoc. 20.
(e) Lib. 1. Epift. 10.
tage
120
L. I B. II.
The Difference betwixt
tage without his weapon, and rowled his train round about
his body. The miferable man cried out to his companion
for help, or at leaſt that he would give him his hatchet to
defend himſelf, or do fome execution upon his enemy, that
was now dragging him towards his den. But his compani-
on was fo cowardly, that he durft not any ways fuccour him,
but affrighted and aſtoniſhed fled away, leaving that wretch-
ed man in the power of the Serpent, which with great rage
carried him to his den without refiftance, or any fuccour at
all, notwithſtanding the hideous out-cries and lamentations
the poor captive made. This hiftory is but a flight draught
of what a finner will experience, in the inftant of the depart-
ure of his foul out of this life, when without any aid at all,
or hope of it, he fhall find himself at the mercy of the infer-
nal Dragon, who will ufe him with all violence imaginable.
St. Peter Damianus fays, he could not exprefs the horror this
fad accident caufed in him, infomuch that it made him
tremble many times, to confider what paffed betwixt the
Serpent and the man in that den: there being no body to
afford any help to the poor fellow in that diſtreſs, where
neither his ftrength, nor cries could any ways avail him, to
decline the fury of that ugly monfter, now ready to tear him
in pieces. Wherefore if to be void of all hopes of temporal
life, and to be in the power of a Serpent, is a thing fo dread-
ful, what fright and aſtoniſhment will it caufe, when a fin-
ner, in the inftant of God's judgment, fhall fee himfelf de-
livered over into the power of the infernal dragon, without
all hopes of ever eſcaping from him, who will feize upon a
foul, and carry her to the abyss of hell? Let us call to mind
with dread, that which the holy prophet feared and faid of
the devil: "God grant he lay not hold on my foul like a
"Lion, when there will be nope that will fet me at liberty,
or relieve me." O what a lamentable thing will it be,
for one to ſee himſelf in the power of Lucifer, not only a
bandoned by men, but alſc by the angels, and by the queen
of men and angels, and even of God himſelf Father of all
mercies! Let us provide ourſelves in time for that which is
to be done in a moment, on which depends our eternity. O
moment, in which all time is loft, if a foul doth loſe itſelf in
it, and remains loft for ever, how much doft thou avail us !
Thou giveſt an affurance to all the good works of this life,
and cauſeft an oblivion of all the pleafures and delights
thereof, to the end that man may not wholly give himſelf
over
CAP. III.
12時
​the Temporal and Eternal.
over to them, fince they will then be of no benefit to him:
and perſevere in virtue, fince it will not fecure him, unless
he perfevere in it to the laft.
§. 2.
#
How can men be careless, feeing fo important a bufinefs,
as is the falvation of their fouls, to depend upon an inſtant,
wherein no new diligence nor preparations will avail them?
Since therefore we know not when that moment will be, let
us not be any moment unprovided; this is a buſineſs not to
be one point of time neglected, fince that point may be our
damnation. What will a hundred years ſpent with great
penance and aufterity in the fervice of God profit us, if in
the end of all thofe years, we fhall commit fome grievous
fin, and death ſhall feize upon us before repentance? Let
no man fecure himſelf in his paſt virtues, but continue them
until the end; fince if he die not in grace all is loft; and if
he do, what matters it to have lived a thouſand years in the
greateſt troubles and affli&tions this world could lay upon
him? O moment, in which the just fhall forget all his la-
bours, and ſhall reft affured of all his virtues! O moment,
in which the pains of a finner begin, and all his pleaſures
end! ✪ moment, which art certain to be, uncertain when
to be, and moſt certain never to be again; for thou art only
once, and what is in thee determined, can never be revoked
in another moment! O moment (d), how worthy art thou
to be now fixed in our memory, that we may not hereafter
meet thee to our eternal ruin and perdition! Let us imitate
the Abbot Elias, who was accustomed to fay, That three
things especially made him tremble; The first, when his
foul was to be plucked out of his body, the fecond, when it
was to appear before God to receive judgment; and the
third, when ſentence was to be pronounced. How terrible
then is this moment, wherein all theſe three things fo terri-
ble are to paſs? Let a chriftian often whilst he lives, place
himſelf in that inftant; from whence let him behold on one
part the time of his life, which he is to leave, and on the
other, the eternity whereunto he enters: and let him confi-
der what remains unto him of that, and what he hopes for
in this. How fhort in that point of death did thoſe near-
hand a thousand years, which Metbufalem lived, appear un-
(d) În vit. PP. 1. 5. p. 565. apud Rot.
to
122
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
}
3
!
to him, and how long one day in eternity? In that inftant
a thousand years of life fhall appear unto the finner no more
than one hour, and one hour of torments fhall appear a
thousand years. Behold thy life from this watch-tower, from
this horizon, and meaſure it with the eternal, and thou fhalt
find it to be of no bulk, nor extenfion. See how little of it
remains in thy hands, and that there is no efcaping from
the hands of eternity. O dreadful moment which cuts off
the thread of time, and begins the web of erernity! let us in
time provide for this moment, that we inay not lole cterni-
ty.
This is that precious pearl, for which we ought to give
all that we have or are. Let it ever be in our memory,
let us ever be folicitous of it, fince it may every day come
upon us. Eternity depends upon death, death upon
and life upon a thread, which may either be broken, cut or
burned, and that even when we most hope, and moſt endea-
vour to prolong it. A good teftimony of this is, that which
Paulus Æmilius (c) recounts of Charles king of Navarre, who
having much decayed and weakened his bodily forces by
excefs of luit, unto which he was without meaſure addicted,
the phyficians for his cure commanded linens deeped in
Aqua-vira, to be wrapped clofe about his naked body. He
Who fewed them, having nothing in readineſs to cut the
at hand, to burn
ม
1
life,
thread, made ufe of a candle, which winefs to cut the
3
r
it: but the thread being wet in thofe fpirits, took fire with
fuch ſpeed, as it fired the linen, and before it could be pre-
vented, burned the body of the king in that manner as he
immediately died. Upon a hatural thread depended the life
of this 'prince, which concluded in fo difaftrous a death;
and no doubt but the thread of life, is as cafily cut as that
of flax; time is required for the one, but the other is broken
in an inftant; and there are more caules of ending our
life,
than are of breaking the fmalleft twift. Our life is never
fecure, and therefore we ought ever to fear that inftant,
which gives an end to time, and beginning unto eternity.
Wonderful are the ways which death finds out, and moft
poor and contemptible thofe things upon which life depends.
for
1
poor and only upon a thread, but fometimes upon fo
fmall a thing as a hair. So Fabius a Roman fenator was
choaked with a hair, which he fwallowed in a draught of
milk. No door is flut to death; it enters where air cannot
enter, and encounters us in the very actions of life. Small
* 165
G
(e) Paulus Æmilius 1.9. Accidit, anno 1387.
things
!
1
1
CAP. III.
123
the Temporal and Eternal.
things are able to deprive us of fo great a good. A little
grain of a grape took away the life of Anacreon (f); and ă
pear, which Drufus Pompeius was playing with, fell into his
mouth and choaked him. The affections alſo of the foul,
and the pleasures ef the body become the high-way unto
death. Homer died of grief, and Sophocles of an excess of
joy. Dionyfius was killed with the good news of a victory
which he obtained. Aurelianus died dancing, when he mar
ried the daughter of Domitian the emperor. Thales Milefius
beholding the ſports in the theatre, died of thirst: and Cor-
nelius Gallus and Titus Etherius (g) died in the act of luft.
Giachetto Saluciano, and his miftrefs, died in the fame vene-
rial action, and their bodies were both found con-joined in
death as their fouls went jointly to hell. Upon fmall mat-
ters and unexpected accidents, depends the ſucceſs of that
moment, upon which depends eternity. Let every one open
his eyes and affure not himſelf of that life, which hath fo
many entrances for death; let no man fay, I fhall not die
to day, for many have thought fo and yet fuddenly died that
very hour. By fo inconfiderable things, as we have spoken.
of, many have died, and thou mayeft die without any of
them. For a fudden death there is no need of a hair, or
fish-bone to strangle thee, nor affliction of melancholy to op-
prefs, or exceſs of fudden joy to furprize thee; it may hap-
pen without all thefe exterior caufes. A corrupt humour in
the entrails, which flies unto the heart, without any body
perceiving it, is fufficient to make an end of thee; and it is
to be admired that no more die fuddenly, confidering the
diforders of our lives, and frailties of our bodies; we are not
of iron or brafs, but of foft and delicate flesh. A clock though
of hard metal in time wears out, and hath every hour need
of mending, and the breaking of one wheel stops the motion.
of all the rest. There is more artifice in a human body,
than in a clock, and it is much more fubtle and delicate.
The nerves are not of ſteel, nor the veins of brafs, nor the
entrails of iron. How many have had their livers, or ſpleen,
corrupted or difplaced, and have died fuddenly? no man
fees what he hath within his body, and fuch may his infir-
mity be, that although he thinks and feels himfelf well, yet
he may die within an hour. Let us all tremble at what may
happen.
(f) Valer. Max. lib. 6.
Q 2
(g) Vid. Andream Eborenfem de morte non vulgari.
CAP.
i
124
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
DE
CA P. IV.
Why the end of Temporal Life is terrible.
EATH, becauſe it is the end of life, is by Ariftotle faid
to be, the most terrible of all things terrible. What
would he have faid, if he had known it to be the beginning
of eternity, and the gate through which we enter into that
vaft abyss, no man knowing upon what fide he fhall fall in-
to that profound and bottomlefs depth? If death be terrible.
for ending the buſineſs and affairs of life, what is it for ufh-
ering in that inftant, wherein we are to give an account of
life before that terrible and moſt juſt Judge, who therefore died
that we might ufe it well? It is not the most terrible part of
death to leave the life of this world, but to give an account
of it unto the Creator of the world; efpecially in fuch a time
wherein he is to uſe no mercy. This is a thing fo terrible
that it made holy Job to tremble, notwithstanding he had fe
good an account to make, who was fo juft, that God him
felf glorified in having ſuch a ſervant. The Holy Ghoft tef
tifies, that he finned not in all what he had ſpoken in his
troubles and calamities, which were fent him not as a pun-
ifhment for his fins, but as a trial of his patience, propofing
him unto us an example of vertue and conftancy; and he
himself protests, that his confcience did not accufe him; yet
for all this, was ſo fearful of the ftrict judgment, which God
paffes in the end of the world, that amazed at the feverity
of his divine juftice, he cries out in his difcourfe with the
Lord, Who will give me, that thou protect and hide me in
Hell, whilft thy fury paffes? Whereupon Dionyfius Rikel-
lius (h) affirms, that that inftant, wherein the judgment of
God is to be given, is not only more terrible than death, but
more terrible than to fuffer the pains of hell for fome certain
time, and this not only unto thoſe who are to be damned
but even unto thoſe who are elected for heaven. Since there-
fore Job, being ſo juſt and holy, quaked at the apprehenſi-
ons of that divine judgment, when it was yet far from him,
and when we ute not to be fo fenfible as of things at hand
without
(h) Dionyf. Rikel. artic. 16. de noviff.
CAP. IV.
125
the Temporal and Eternal.
without doubt when a finner fhall in that inftant perceive
himſelf, to have difpleafed his Redeemer and Creator, al-
though but in ſmall faults, yet it will affli&t him more than
the fuffering of moſt great pains; for which St. Bafil (i)
judged, that it was lefs to fuffer eternal torments, than the
confufion of that day: and therefore pondering that repre-
henfions, given unto the rich man in the gospel, "Fool,
"this night thy foul fhall be taken from thee. Whofe then
"fhall be the riches which thou haft gotten?" The faint
avers, that this mock, this taunt, did exceed an eternal pun-
iſhment.
Death is terrible for many weighty reaſons, and every one
fufficient to cauſe in us a mortal fear, whereof not the leaſt,
is the fight of the offended judge, who is not only judge,
but party, and a moſt irrefragable witneſs, in whofe vifage
fhall then appear fuch a feverity againſt the wicked, that
St. Auftine fays, he had rather fuffer all manner of torments,
than to behold the face of his angry judge. And St. Chry
foftom faith (k)," It were better to be truck with a thou-
fand thunderbolts, than to behold that countenance fo
"meek, and full of ſweetneſs eftranged from us, and thoſe
"eyes of peace and mildness, not enduring to behold us."
The only fight of an image of Chrift crucified (1), which
appeared with wrathful and incenfed eyes, although in this
life, when the field of mercy is open, was fufficient ſo to af-
toniſh three hundred perfons who beheld it, that they fell
unto the ground fenfelefs, and without motion, and ſo con-
tinued for the ſpace of fome hours. How will it then amaze
us, when we ſhall behold not a dead image, but Jefus Chrift
himſelf alive, not in the humility of the Crofs, but upon a
throne of majesty, and feat of juftice; not in a time of mer-
cy, but in the hour of vengeance; not naked with pierced
hands, but armed againſt finners with the fword of justice,
when he ſhall come ro judge, and revenge the injuries which
they have done him? God is as righteous in his juftice, as
in his mercy; and as he hath allotted a time for mercy, fo
he will for juſtice; and as in this life, the rigour of his juf-
tice, is as it were repreffed and fufpended, fo in that point of
death, when the finner fhall receive judgment, it shall be let
loofe, and overwhelm him. A great and rapid river, which
ſhould
(i) Bafil. hom. contra divites avaros.
(k) Chryf. homi. 24. in Math.
(1) Rad. in opufc. & in annuis Socier.
#26
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
fhould for 30 or 40 years together, have its current violently
ſtopped, what a mafs of waters would it collect in fo long a
fpace; and if it should then be let loofe, with what fury
would it over-run, and bear down all before it, and what
refiftance could withstand it? Since then the divine juftice,
which the prophet Daniel (m) compares not to an ordinary
river, but to a river of fire for the greatnefs and feverity of
the rigour, fhall be repreffed for thirty or forty years, during
the life of a man, what an infinity of wrath will it amafs to-
gether, and with what fury will it burst out upon the miſer-
able finners in the point of death? All this rigour and feve-
rity, fhall the wretched Caytiff behold in the face of the of
fended judge. And therefore the prophet Daniel ſaith, that
a river of fire iffued from his countenance, and that his
throne was of flames, and the wheels of it burning fire, be-
cauſe all ſhall then be fire, rigour and juftice. He fets forth
unto us his tribunal and throne with wheels, to fignify there-
by the force and violence of his omnipotency, in executing
the ſeverity of his juſtice: all which ſhall appear in that mo-
ment, when finners fhall be brought into judgment, when
the Lord (as David ſays) ſhall ſpeak unto them in his wrath,
and confound them in his fury.
The which is alfo declared by other prophets, in moſt
terrible and threatening words. Ifaias faith (n), “The
"Lord will come cloathed in garments of vengeance, and
❝ covered with a robe of zeal; and he will give unto his ad-
verfaries his indignation, and his enemies fhall have their
"turn." And the wife-man to declare it more fully, faith,
"His zeal," that is, his indignation, fhall take up arms,
❝ and ſhall arm the creatures to revenge him of his enemies:
"he fhall put on juſtice as a breaft-plate: he fhall take the
"head-piece of righteous judgment, and embrace the inex-
"pugnable ſhield of equity, and fhall fharpen his wrath as a
"lance." The prophet Ofee (o) declares the fame, propo-
fing the judge unto us, not only as an enraged and armed
man, but a fierce and cruel beaft; and therefore ſpeaking in
the perfon of God, faith, "I will appear unto them in that
"inſtant, as a bear that hath been robbed of her whelps; I
"will tear their entrails in pieces, and will devour them as
66 a lion." There is no beaft more fierce of nature than a
lion, or bear which hath loft her young ones, the which will
| (0)
(m) Dan. 7. } (0) Ofee. 13.
(n) Ifai. 56.
furiously
!
CAP. IV.
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
127
furiously affault him fhe first meets with and yet God,
whofe nature is infinite goodness, would compare himſelf
unto fo favage and cruel beafts, to exprefs the terror of his
juſtice and rigour, with which he is in that day to fhew him-
ſelf against finners. The confideration of this wrought for
much with Abbot Agathon (p), when he was at the point of
dying, that he continued three days in admiration, his eyes
for fear and dread continually broad open, without moving.
from one fide to the other. Certainly all comparifons and
exaggerations, fall fhort of what it ſhall be, fince that day is,
The day of wrath and calamity. That is the day when the
Lord ſhall ſpeak aloud, in lieu of the many days wherein he
hath been filent. That is the day of which he spake by his
prophet, I held my peace, and was mute, but I will then cry
out, as a woman in labour. That day fhall take up all his
juſtice, and fhall recompence for all his years of fufferance.
That day fhall be purely of justice, without mixture of mer-
cy, hope of compaffion, help, favour or any other patron-
age but of our works. This is fignified in that which Daniel
faith, that the throne and tribunal of God was of flames,
and that there fhall proceed, from his face a river of fire; be
caufe fire, befides that it is the most active, nimble and ve-
hement of all the elements, is also the moſt pure, not admit-
ting the mixture of any thing. The earth contains mines of
metals, and quarries of ftone: The water fuffers in her bo-
fom variety of fishes: the air multitudes of vapours, and
exhalations, and ather bodies; but fire endures nothing, it
melts the hardest metals, reduces ftones into cinders, con-
fumes living creatures, converts trees into itſelf, infomuch as
it is not only impatient of a companion, but infufes its own
qualities into what it meets withal, and turns even what is
contrary unto it, into its own fubſtance and nature; it does
not only melt fnow, but makes it boil, and makes cold iron
burn. So fhall it be in that day; all fhall be rigour and juf-
tice without mixture of mercy; nay the very mercies which
God hath uſed towards a finner, ſhall then be an argument
and food for his juftice.
O man, which hath now time, confider in what conditi-
on thou shalt ſee thyfelf in that inftant, when neither the
blood of Chrift fhed for thee, nor the Son of God crucified,
nor the interceffion of the moft bleffed Virgin, nor the pray-
ers of faints, nor the divine mercy itfelf hall avail thee, but
Thall
(p) In vitis pat.
128
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
"
ſhall only behold an incenfed and revenging God, whofe
mercies fhall then only ferve to augment his juftice. Thou
fhalt then perceive, that none will take thy part, but all will
be against thee. The most holy Virgin, who is the Mother
of mercy, the mercy of God himſelf, and the blood of thy
Redeemer, will all be against thee; and only thy good
works fhall ftand for thee. This life once paft, thou art to
expect no patron, no prote&tor, but thy virtuous actions only
they fhall accompany thee, and when thy Angel guardian,
(q) and all the faints thy advocates fhall leave thee, they
only fhall not forfake thee. See that thou provide thyfelf
for that day, take care thou now benefit thyself by the blood
of Chrift, for thy falvation; if not, it will only ferve for thy
greater damnation. The whole world was amazed at the
manner of the condemnation of Pyrrbus the heretick, by
Pope Theodorus, who calling a council at Rome, and placing
himſelf cloſe by the body of St. Peter, in the prefence of
the whole affembly, took the confecrated Chalice, and pou-
ring the blood of Chrift into the ink, did with his own hand
write the fentence of excommunication and Anathema, by
which he ſeparated Pyrrhus from the church of Chrift. This
dreadful manner of proceeding, brought a fear upon all
thoſe who heard it. Do thou then tremble, unto whom it
may happen, that the blood of thy Redeemer, fhall only
ferve as a ſentence of thy eternal death. For fo fevere will
the divine juſtice be in that day against a finner, that if it
were needful for his condemnation, to confirm the fentence
with the blood of Chrift, it fhould (although once ſhed upon
the Crofs for his falvation) then only ferve to his damnation
and eternal reprobation. If this be true, (as nothing can be
more certain) how come we to be fo careless? how come we
to laugh and rejoice? With great reafon an old Hermit (r)
in the defert, beholding another laugh, reprehended him for
it, faying, We are to give a strict account before the Lord
of Heaven and Earth, the moft inflexible judge, and dareft
thou be merry? How dare that finner laugh, fince that in-
ſtant will come, wherein it will pot profit him to weep? why
does he not now with tears afk pardon for his fins, when af-
ter death he cannot obtain it? There ſhall be then no mer-
cy, no remedy, no protection from God or man, no defence
but
(q) Theopha. an 20. Herac. Imper. ut habetur in tom. 2. p.
2. Concil in notis ad vitam Theodori Papæ.´
(r) In vitis Pat, lib. 5.
CA P. IV.
129
the Temporal and Eternal.
but what each man hath from his own works. Let us then
endeavour they may be good ones, fince we have nothing
in the other life to trust to but them. The rich man ſhall
not then have multitudes of fervants to ſet forth his great-
nefs and author.ty, nor well-feed lawyers to defend his pro-
cefs: only his good works fhall beftead him, and they only
ſhall defend him; and in that inſtant, when even the mercy
of God ſhall fail him, and the blood of Chrift ſhall not ap-
peale the divine juftice, only his good works fhall not fail
him; then, when their treafures, which have been heaped
up in this world, and guarded with fo much care, fhall fail
their masters, their alms bestowed on the poor ſhall not fail
them; there, when their children, kindred, friends and fer-
vants fhall all fail them, the ftrangers which they have
lodged, the fick which they have vifited in the hofpitals,
and the needy which they have fuccoured fhall not fail
them. The rich man is to leave his wealth behind him,
without knowing who fhall poffefs it: his good works ſhall
go along with him, and they only, when nothing elſe can,
fhall avail him; neither fhall Chrift, who is the judge of the
living and the dead, at that time admit of other patrons or
advocates. Let us then take heed we turn not thoſe againſt
us, which are only at that dreadful time to beſtead us.
It is to be admired, how many dare do ill in the prefence
of that judge, with whom nothing can prevail but doing
well; and the wonder is much the greater, that we dare
with our evil works offend him, who is to judge them. The
thief is not fo impudent as to rob his neighbour, if the ma-
giſtrate look on, but would be held a fool, if he ſhould rob
or offend the magiftrate himſelf in his own houfe: How
dares then this poor thing man, injure the very perſon of his
moſt upright and juſt judge, (before whom it is moſt certain
he fhall appear) to his face, in his own houfe, in fo high a
manner as to prefer the Devil, his and our greateſt enemy,
before him? How great was the malice of the Jews, when
they judged it fitter, that Barabbas ſhould live, than the Son
of God; Let the finner then confider his own infolence,
who judges it better to pleate the Devil, than Chrift his Re-
deemer. Every one who fins makes as it were a judgment,
and paires a ſentence in favour of ſatan againſt Jeſus Chriſt.
Of this unjuſt judgment of man, the Son of God who is
moſt unjuſtly ſentenced by a finner, will at the last day take
a moſt ſtrict and ſevere account. Let him expect from his
R
own
130.
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
own injuſtice how great is to be the divine justice againſt
him. Let a chriftian therefore confider that he hath not now
his own, but the cauſe of Chrift in hand. Let him take heed
how he works, fince all his a&uous are to be viewed and re-
viewed by his Redeemer. An artiſt who knew his work,
was to appear before fome king, or to be examined by fome
great master in the face art, would ſtrive to give it the
greatest perfection of his fkill. Since therefore all our works
are to appear before the king of Heaven, and the chief maf
ter of virtues Jefus Chrift, let us endeavour that they may
be perfect and compleat, and the rather, becaufe he is not
to examine them for curiofity, but to pafs upon us a fen-
tence, either of condemnation or eternal happiness. Let us
then call to mind, that we we to give an account unto God
Almighty, and let us therefore ake heed what we do; let
us weep for what is amifs; let us for fake our fins, and ſtrive
to do virtuous actions; let us look upon ourſelves as guilty
offenders and. les us ftand in perpetual fear of the judge,
as Abbot Auno adviſes us; of whom it is reported in the
Book of the lives of the Fathers, tranflated by Pelagius (s)
the Cardinal, That being demanded by a young Monk,
what he ſhould do that might moft profit him, anſwered,
"Entertain the fame thoughts with the male factors in prif-
66
:
on, who are ſtill enquiring, Where is the judge? When
"will he come?" every hour expecting their punishment,
and weeping for their misdemeanors. In this manner ought
the chriſtian ever to be in fear and anxiety, ftill reprehend-
ing himſelf, and faying, Ay me! wretch that I am, how
fhall I appear before the tribunal of Chrift? how ſhall I be
able to give an account of all my actions? If thou shalt al-
ways have theſe thoughts, thou mayeft be faved, and ſhalt
not fail of obtaining what thou demandeft towards thy fal·
vation and all will be little enough. St. John Climacus (t)
writes of a certain Monk, who had lived long with ſmall fer-
your and edification,; who falling into a grievous infirmity,
wherein he remained fome fpace without fenfe or feeling,
was during that time, brought before the tribunal of God,
and from thence returned unto life, wherein he continued
ever after in that fear and aſtoniſhment, that he caufed the
door of his little cell, which was to ſmall and narrow, that
he had ſcarce room to move in it, to be ſtopped up, there
remained as it were inclofed in prifon the ſpace of 12 years,
during
(s) In vitis Pat. lib. 5.
(t) Climac, gra. 6.
CAP. IV.
131
the Temporal and Eternal.
1
during which time he never ſpake with any, nor fed upon
other than bread and water, but fat ever meditating upon
what he had feen in that rapture: wherein his thoughts.
were ſo intent, as he never moved his eyes from the place
where they were fixed, but perfevering till in his filence.
and aſtoniſhment, could not contain the tears from abun-
dantly flowing down his aged face. At laft (faith the faint)
his death now drawing near, we broke open the door, and
entered into his cell, and after aſked him in all humility,
that he would fay fomething unto us of inftru&ion, all we
could obtain from him was this: Pardon me fathers, He
who knew what it were truly, and with his whole heart to
think upon death, would never have the boldness to fin.
The rigour of divine judgment which is to pafs after death
occafioned in this Monk, fo great change and penitence of
life.
§. 2.
The ſecond caule of the terribleness of Death, which is the
laying open of all, wherein we have offended in this Life.
A
NOTHER thing of great horror is to happen in the
end of life, which fhall make that hour, wherein the
foul expires, most horrible unto finners, and that is the fight
of their own fins; whofe deformity and multitude, ſhall then
clearly and diſtinctly appear unto them; and although now
we remain in ignorance of many, and fee the guilt of none,
they shall then, when we leave this life, fully difcover them-
ſelves as they are, both in number and in quality. This is
alfo fignified unto us by the prophet Daniel, when he fays,
That the throne of the tribunal of God was of flaming fire:
whoſe nature is not only to burn, but to enlighten; and
therefore in that divine judgment, fhall not only be executed.
the rigour of his juftice, but the uglinefs like wife of humane
malice fhall be difcovered. The judge himself ſhall not only
appear ſevere and implacable, but our fins fhall be laid open
before us, and the fight of them ſhall make us quake and
tremble with fear and aſtoniſhment; efpecially when we
fhall perceive them to be manifeft unto him, who is both
judge and party. Wherefore it is faid in one of the pfalms,
We are difmayed, O Lord with thy wrath, and troubled
with thy fury and immediately giving the reafon of that
trouble,
R 2
132
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
trouble, he faith, becauſe thon haft fet our wickedness before
thee, and placed them in thy fight. The monftrouineſs of
fin is now covered, and we perceive it not. and are not
therefore much troubled; but in that inftant of death, when
the uglineſs of it ſhall appear, the very fight of it will wholly
confound us. Our fins now feem unto us but light and tri-
vial, and we ſee not half of them: but in our leaving of this
life, we ſhall find them heavy, grievous and unfupportable.
A great beam, whilft it floats upon the river, a child may
move, and draw it from place to place, and the half of it
remains hidden and covered below the waters: but draw it
to land, many men will not fuffice to remove it, and the
whole bulk of it, will be then clearly difcovered; fo in the
waters of this tempeftucus and unſtable life, our faults ap-
pear not heavy, and the half of them are concealed from
us: but this life once ended, we ſhall then feel their weights
diſcover their bulk, and ſhall groan under fo heavy and
grievous a burthen.
Thefe doubtlefs are the two fwords, which then ſhall mor-
tally wound the confcience of a finner: First when thall
perceive the innumerable multitude of his fins, and then
their monstrous deformity, And to begin with their multi-
tude, how ſhall he remain amazed, when he shall fee a
number of his actions to be fins, which he never thought to
be fuch; and which is more, when he ſhall find that to be a
fauit, which he thought to be a landable work? For this it
is faid in one of the Pfalms, when I fhall take him, I will
judge righteousness; for many actions which in the eyes of
men ſeem virtues, will then be found vices in the fight of
God. If in humane judgments there be fo great a differ-
ence, that young men, and thofe that follow the world, often
eſteem that for a virtue, which the wife and ancient repute
as an error, how different fhall be the divine judgment from
that of inen, fince the Holy Ghoft faith by his propher, that
the judgments of God are a great abyfs, and that his thoughts.
are as far diftant from the thoughts of men, as Heaven is
from Earth? And if fpiritual men are fo clear fighted, that
they condemn with truth what worldlings praife, what fhall
be thoſe divine eyes, which are able to perceive a ſtain, in
what appears angelical purity? And if, as the fcripture fays,
he found wickedness in the angels, what vice can remain liid
in the tons of men? Our Lord himſelf faith by one of his
prophets, I will ſearch Jeruſalem with a candle. If ſo atriða
enquiry
CAP. IV.
133
the Temporal and Eternal.
enquiry be to be made, in the holy city of Jerufalem, what
ball he in Babylon? If God ſhall ufe fuch rigour with the
ult, how fhalbhe diffemble with his enemies? Then ſhall be
brought to light the works which we have done, and thoſe
which we have left undone: the evil of that action which
we have committed, and the good of that which we have
omitted. Neither is there account to be taken only of the
evils which we do, but of the good alfo whieh we do not
well; all will be strictly fearched and narrowly looked into,
and muſt paſs by many eyes.
The devil, as our accufer,
ſhall frame the procefs of our whole life, and ſhall accuſe us
of all he knows; and if any thing fhall efcape his knowledge
it fhall not therefore be concealed; for our own confcience
fhill cry out, and accufe us of it; and leaſt our confcience
night fatter us, or be ignorant of fome faults, our Angel-
guardian, who is now our governor and tutor, ſhall then be
the fiſcal and accufer, calling for divine juftice against us,
and fhall difcover, what our own fouls are ignorant of. And
if the devil, our confeience, and Angel-guardian shall fail in
any thing, as not knowing all, the judge himfelf, who is
both party and witnefs, and whofe divine knowledge, pene-
trates into the bottom of our wills, fhali there declare many
things for vices, which were here eſteemed for virtues.
frange way of judgment, where none denies, and ali ac-
cufe, even the offender accufes himself; and where all are
witneffes, even the judge and party. O dreadful judgment,
where there is no advocate, and four accufers, the Devil, thy
Confcience, thy Angel-guardian, and thy very Judge, who
will accufe thee of many things, which thou thoughteft to
have alledged for thy defence!
O how great fhall then be the confufion, when that thall
be found a fin, which was thought a ſervice! who would
have imagined but that Oza, when he upheld the Ark in
danger of falling, had rather done a laudable action, than
an offence? yet the Lord chaftifed it as a great fin, with the
punishment of a moft difaftrous death: fhewing thereby how
different the divine judgments are from thofe of men. Who
would not have thought David's numbering of his people,
to have been an act of policy and difcretion? yet God
judged it an offence, and puniſhed it with an unexampled
peftilence, which in fo fhort a time, deftroyed threeſcore and
ten thouſand perfons? When Saul urged by his approach-
ing enemies, and the long delays of Samuel offered facrifice,
he
234
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
he thought he had done an act of the greatest virtue, which
is religion: but God called it by the name of a grievous,
fin, and for doing it reproved him, and caft him off from
being king. Who would not have judged it, for an act of
magnanimity and clemency, when Achab, having conquered
Benbadad king of Syria (u), pardoned him his life, and
took him up to fit by him in his royal chariot? But this
which was fo much esteemed and praiſed by men, was fo dif-
agreeable unto God, that he fent him word by his prophet,
that he should die for it, and that he, and his people fhould
bear the punishment, which was defigned unto the Syrians,
and their king. If then the judgment of God in this life,
be fo far different from that of men, what ſhall it be in that
moſt dreadful hour, which God hath referved for the execu-
ting of his divine juftice? Then all fhall be laid open, and
confufion fhall cover the finner with the multitude of his
offences. How fhall he blush to fee himſelf in the prefence
of the King of Heaven, in fo foul and fqualid garments? A
man is ſaid to remain confounded, when either the iffue of
things falls out, contrary to what he hoped and looked for,
or when he comes off with indignity or difparagement,
where he expected honour and reward; how confounded
then ſhall a finner be, when thofe works of his which he
thought virtues, ſhall be found vices, imagining he hath
done fervice, fhall perceive he hath offended, and hoping
for a reward, ſhall meet with punishment? If a man when
he is to fpeak with fome great prince, defire to be decently
and well clad, how will he be out of countenance to appear
before him, dirty and half naked? How fhall then a finner
be aſhamed, to ſee himſelf before the Lord of all, naked of
good works, be dirtied and defiled with abominable and hor-
rid crimes? for befides the multitude of fins, whereof his
whole life ſhall be full, the heinouſneſs of them, ſhall be al-
fo laid open before him, and he ſhall tremble at the fight of
that, which he now thinks but a trivial fault. For then fhall
he fee crearly the ugliness of fin, the diffonancy of it unto
reaſon, the deformity it caufes in the foul, the injury it does
unto the Lord of the world, his ingratitude to the blood of
Chrift, the prejudice it brings unto himfelt, hell into which
he falls, and eternal glory which he lofes. The leaſt of theſe
were fufficient to cover his heart with fadnefs, and inconfo-
lable grief: but altogether what amazement and confufion
(u) 3 Reg. c. 20.
fhall
CAP. IV.
135
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
+
fhall they cause? eſpecially when he ſhall perceive, that not
only mortal, but even venial fins, produce an ugliness in
the foul, beyond all the corporal deformities which can be
imagined. If the fight of only one devil be fo horrible, that
many fervants of God have faid, that they would rather
fuffer all the torments of this life, than behold him for one
moment, all his deformity proceeding, but from one only
mortal fin, which he committed, for before the devils were
by nature, moſt excellent and beautiful: in what condition
fhall a finner be, who fhail not only behold all devils, in all
their ugliness, but fhall fee himſelf perhaps more ugly than
many of them, having as many deformities, as he hath com-
mitted mortal, and venial fins? Let him therefore avoid
them now; for all are to come to light, and he muſt account
for all, even until the last farthing.
:
•
་
Neither is this account to be made in grofs only, for the
greateſt and moſt apparent fins, but even for the leaft and
ſmalleſt. What lord is fo ftrict with his fteward, that he de-
mands an account for trifles, for the tag of a point, nor fuf-
fers him to paſs a half-penny, without informing him, how
it was spent? In humane tribunals, the judge takes no no-
tice of ſmall matters: but in the courts of divine judicature
nothing paffes: the leaft things are as diligently looked into
as the greater. A confirmation of this is a story written by
divers authors (x); That there were two religious perfons,
of holy and laudable converſation, who did mutually love
one another with great affection; one of them chanced to
die, and after death appeared unto the other, (being then
in prayer) in poor and torn garments, and with a moft for-
rowful and dejected countenance; he who was alive de-
manded of him, what was the cauſe of his appearing in that
fad manner; to whom he anſwered, repeating it three times,
No man will believe; No man will believe; No man will
believe. Being urged to declare further what we would ſay,
he proceeded thus, No man can imagine how ftrict God is
in taking his accounts, and with what rigour he chaſtiſes fin-
In faying this he vanished. By that which hath hap-
pened to many fervants of God, even before their departure
out of this life, may be feen the rigour, with which this ac-
count ſhall be taken after death. St. John Climacus (y)
writes of a certain monk, who being very defirous to live in
ners.
(x) Joh. Major. Judic. exem. S. ex collec.
(y) Climac. gr. 7.
follitude
136
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
:
follitude and quiet, after he had exercifed himself many
years, in the labours of a monaftical life, and obtained the
grace of tears and fafting, with many other privileges of
virtue, he built a cell, at the foot of that mountain, where
Elias in time paſt faw, that facred and divine vifion. This
reverend Father being of fo great auflerity, defired yet to
live a more ftri&t and penitent life, and therefore paffed from
thence, into a place called Sides, which belonged to the
Anchorite monks, who live in great perfection and retire-
ment; and having lived a long time, with much rigour in
that place, which was far remote from all humane confola-
tion, and diſtant 70 miles, from any dwelling or habitation
of men, at laſt he came to have a defire to return to his firſt
cell, in that facred mountain, where remained in his abfence
for the keeping of it, two most religious difciples of his,
of the land of Paleftine. Some ſhort time after his return,
he fell into an infirmity and died. The day before his
death, he became much aftoniſhed and amazed, and keep-
ing ftill his eyes open, he looked gaftly about him, fome-
time on the one fide of the bed, and then on the other, as
if he ſaw ſome who demanded an account from him of fome-
thing which was paft; unto whom he anſwered in the hear-
in of all who were prefent, faying fometime," So it is
truly, but for this I have fafted fo many years." Other-
whiles he ſaid, "Certainly it is not fo; thou lyest, I never
" did it." At other times, "It is true; I did fo, but wept
"for it, and ſo many times miniſtered for it, unto the ne-
"ceffity of my neighbour:" Other times," Thou ac-
"cuſeſt me truly, I have nothing to fay; but God is mer-
"ciful." And certainly, that inviſible and ſtrict inquifition,
was fearful and horrible, unto thoſe who were prefent. Ay
miſerable me, faith the faint, What will become of me fin-
ner, fince ſo great a follower of a folitary and retired life,
knew not what to answer? He who had lived forty years a
Monk, and obtained the grace of tears, and, as fome af-
firmed unto me, had in the defart fed a hungry leopard,
which meekly repaired unto him for food, yet for all this
fanctity, at his departure out of this life, ſo ſtrict an account
was demanded of him, as he left us uncertain what was his
judgment, and what the fentence and determination of his
cauſe. We read in the Chronicles (z) of the minorities,
that a novice of the order of St. Francis, being now almoſt
庐
​(z) Chronic. S. Franc, 2. p. lib. 4. c. 35
out
€ A P. IV.
the Temporal and Eternal.
137
re-
out of himſelf ſtruggling with death, cried out with a terri-
ble voice, ſaying, Woe is me: O that I never had been
born. A little afrer he had faid: I am heartily forry. And
not long after he replied: Put fomething of the merits of
the Paffion of our Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift. Then he
faid, Now 'tis well. The religious much admired, that a
young man fo innocent ſhould ſpeak things fo dreadful, and
with fuch a ſtrange noife. When the young man was
turned to his fenfes, they demanded of him to declare un-
to them the meaning of thofe words and great cries. He
anfwered them: I faw that in the judgment of Almighty
God, fo ftri&t an account was taken even of idle words,
and other things that feemed very little, and they weighed
them fo exactly, that the merits in refpe&t of the demerits,
were almost nothing at all; And for this reaſon, I gave that
firſt terrible and fad out cry. Afterwards I faw, that the de-
merits were weighed with great attention, and that little re-
gard was made of the merits; For this reafon, I fpake the
fecond words. And feeing that the merits were fo few and
inconfiderable for to be juftified, I fpake the third: And
in regard, that with the merits of the Paffion of Christ our
Saviour, the balance, wherein my good works were, weigh-
ed more than the other, immediately a favourable fentence
was given in my behalf: For this reafon, I faid now 'tis
well. And having faid this, he gave up the ghoft.
§. 3.
The third caufe of the terribleness of the end of Temporal Life,
which is the charge, which shall be given of divine benefits
received.
THERE is an inters,
HERE is alfo in the end of life, another cauſe of much
terror unto finners, which is the lively knowledge,
which they fhall have of the divine benefits received, and
the charge which fhall be laiu against them, for their great
ingratitude and abuſe of them. This is alfo fignified by what
the prophet Daniel (pake, of the throne and tribunal of God.
For he not only ſaid, it was of flames of fire, by which was
given us to understand, the rigour of divine juftice againſt
finners, fignified by the violence, heat and activity of fire,
and the diſcovery and manifeftation of fins, fignified by the
light and brightneſs of the flames: but he alſo adds, that
S
fromg
138.
The Difference betwixt
LIB. II..
from the face of the judge, there proceeded a heady and
rapid river, which was alfo of fire, fignifying by the Swift-
nefs of the courſe, and the iffuing of it from God, the mul-
titude of his graces and benefits, which flowing from the
divin: goodneſs, are communicated and poured down upon
his creatures. His faying that this fo great river, ſhall in
that day be of fire, is to make us understand, the rigour of
that charge againſt us, for our abuſe of thoſe infinite bene-
fits bestowed, together with the light and clearneſs, where-
with we fhall know them, and the horror and confufion,
which ſhall then feize upon us for our great ingratitude, and
the ſmall account we have made of them: in fo much as
finners in that inftant, are not only to ftand in fear of their
own bad works, but of the grace and benefits of God Al-
mighty, conferred upon them. Another mourning weed
and confuſion fhall cover them, when they fhall fee what
God hath done to oblige and affift them towards their fal-
vation, and what they to the contrary have done, to draw
upon them their own damnation. They fhall tremble to ſee
what God did for their good, and that he did ſo much, as he
could do no more: all which hath been mif-employed and
abuſed by themfelves. This is fo clear and evident on the
part of God Almighty, that he calls men themſelves, as wit-
neffes and judges of the truth; and therefore ſpeaking under
the metaphor of a vineyard, by his prophet Iſay (a), he faith
in this manner; Inhabitants of Jerufalem, and men of
Judah, judge betwixt me and my vineyard; what ought
"I to have done more unto my vineyard, and have not
"done it ?" And after the incarnation of the Son of God,
the Lord turns again to upbraid men with the fame reſent-
ment, and fignifies more fully the multitude of his benefits,
under the fame metaphor of a vineyard, which a man plant
ed (b), and fo much cheriſhed and esteemed it, that he fent
thither his only fon, who was flain in the demand of it. Let
therefore men enter into judgment against themſelves, and
let them be judges, whether God could have done more for
them, and has not done it: they being ftill to ungrateful to-
wards their Creator, as if he had been their enemy, and
done them fome notorious injury.
Coming therefore to confider every one of theſe benefits
by itfelt; The first which occurs, is that of the creation,
which was fignified by our Saviour Jefus Chrift, when he
(a) Ifai. 5.
(b) Mat. 21.
faid,
CAP. IV.
139
the Temporal and Eternal.
tance.
faid, that He planted a Vineyard; and what could God do
more for thee, fince in this one benefit of thy creation, he
gave thee all what thou art both in foul and body? If
wanting an arm, thou wouldeſt eſteem thyself much obliged
and be very thankful unto him, who fhould beftow one up-
on thee, which were found, ftrong and useful, why art thou
not fo to God, who hath given thee arins, heart, foul, body
and all? Confider what thou wert before he gave thee a
being: Nothing; and now thou enjoyeft not only a being,
but the beſt being of the elemental world. Philofophers fay,
that betwixt being and no being, there is an infinite dif-
See then what thou oweft unto thy Creator, and
thou shalt find thy debt to be no less than infinite, fince he
hath not only given thee a being, but a noble being, and
that not by neceffity, but out of an infinite love, and by
election, making choice of thee amongſt an infinity of men
poffible, whom he might have created. If lots were to be
caſt amongſt a hundred perfons for fome honourable charge,
how fortunate would he be efteemed, who should draw the
lot from fo many competitors? behold then thy own happi-
nefs, who from an abfolute nothing, haft lighted upon a
being, amongſt an infinity of creatures poffible. And whence
proceeds this fingular favour, but from God, who out of
thofe numberless millions had picked out thee, leaving
many others, who, if he had created them, would have
ferved him better than thyfelf? See then what God could
have done for thee and has not, having chofen thee with-
out any defert of thine from amongst fo many, and prefer-
red thee before thofe, whom he forefaw would have been
more thankful. Befides this, he not only created thee by
election, and gave thee a noble being, but fupernatural,
happiness, being no way due unto thy nature, he created
thee for it, and gave thee for thy end the moſt high and
eminent that could be imagined, to wit, the eternal poffef-
fion of thy Creator. It was enough for God to create thee
for a natural happinefs, conformable to what thou wert, but
he, not to leave any thing undone which he could do,
created thee for a fuper-natural bleffedneſs, infomuch as.
there is no creature which hath a higher end than thyself.
See then if God could do more for thee, and has not, and
fee what thou oughteft to do for him; fee whereunto thou.
art obliged. For this only benefit, thou oughtest not to
move hand nor foot, but for the fervice of fo good and
gra-
CIOUS
140
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
hath a right unto
For this reafon, at
cious a God. A labourer who plants a tree, hath a right un-
to the fruit: and God, who created thee,
thy works, which are the fruits of man.
the garment of the high priest, which reprefented the be-
nefit of our creation, were hung many pomgranates, which
are the nobleft fruit of trees, and bears a crown, to fignify
that the good fruits of holy works, which we ought to pro-
duce, are to be crowned with a perfect and pure attention.
See then if thou can't do more for God; for God could do
no more for thee, than to create thee for fo high and emi-
nent an end, as is the Poffeffion of himſelf, being no ways
due unto thy feeble and frail nature.
It being then fo great a benefit to have created thee, it is
yet a greater to have preferved and fuffered thee until this
inftant, without cafting thee into a thousand hells for thy
fins and offences. This grace of conſervation our Saviour
noted, when he faid, that he compaffed and enclofed his
vineyard which was for the prefervation of it. See then
what thy Creator in this matter of confervation, could have
done more than he hath done for thee, fince being his ene-
my, he hath preferved thee as his friend. From how many
for one only fault committed, hath he with-drawn his pre-
fervation, and fuffered them to die in that fin, for which
they are now in hell: and fome of them, if they had been
pardoned, would have proved more grateful than thou?
Behold how many angels for their first offence, he threw
head long down from heaven, and expected them no long-
er; and yet ſtill expects thee. See if he could do more for
thee, and fee what thou art to do for him. Confider that
thou oweft him for preferving thee, as much as for creating
thee, prefevation being a continued creation, and more for
preferving and fuffering thee, although his enemy. In thy
creation, although thou didst not deſerve a being, yet thou
demeritedft it not; but in thy prefervation thou haft de-
ſerved the contrary, which is to be forfaken and abandoned.
But above all what is faid, the benefit which thou re-
ceiveft by the incarnation of the Son of God: which Chrift
fignified when he faid, that the Lord of the vineyard fent
his ion. See if God could have done more for his own fal-
vation than he did for thine, fending into the world his only
begotten on, to be incarnated for thee A greater work
than this could not be done, by the omnipotent arm of God,
Confider that he did not this for his angels, and yet did it
for
CAP. IV.
141
the Temporal and Eternal.
for thee; fee if then thou can't comply with the love thou
oweft him, with being less than a Seraphin in thy affection.
Confider likewife that it being in his power to redeem thee,
by making himſelf an angel, and only interceding for thee,
yet he would not deprive thy nature of this honour, but
made himſelf a man; fee if he could do more for thy good.
By making himself an angel, he might have honoured the
angelical nature, and having likewiſe benefited thee; but he
would not but making himſelf a man, conferred both the
honour and profit upon thee. And if it be true which fome
doctors fay, that God having propofed unto the angels, that
they were to adore a man, who was alfo to be God, and to
be exalted above all their hierarchies, and that becauſe they
would not ſubject themſelves unto an inferior nature, they
therefore tell, and became difobedient: fee what thou oweſt
unto God, for this fo fingular a favour, who would make
himſelf a man, that thou fhouldeſt not be loft, although
with the loss of fo many angels better than thee. Behold
from whence he drew thee by this benefit, which was from
fin and hell; and at ſuch a time, when thy miferable con-
dition was deſperate of all other remedy; behold unto what
he exalted thee: to his grace, and the inheritance of the
kingdom of heaven. Behold in what manner, and with
what fingular love and affection he did it, even to his own
lofs and prejudice, and, as the apoftle faith, by annihilating,
as it were himself, that he might exalt thee, taking upon
him thy nature, when it was not needful, only that he might
confer an honour upon thee, which he would not upon the
angels. See what God could do more for thee: and fee that
thou mayeft do much more for him, and doft not.
Of
the benefit of our redemption, by the death and paffi
on of Chrift, the Lord hinfelf was not forgetful, but fignifi-
cd it unto us, even before he died, faying, That the Son,
whom the Lord of the vineyard fent, was flain in the pre-
tence. What could the Son of God do more for thee than
die, and ſhed his blood for thy benefit, eipecially when it
was not needful for thy redemption? In the rigour of juf-
tice, it was neceffary that God fhould be incarnate, or
make himſelf an angel to redeem thee; but to ſuffer and
die, not at all. But fuch was his infinite love, as he would
needs fuffer, and not with an ordinary death, but would die
fo ignominioufly, as it feems he could not fuffer more. Set
before thy eyes, Chrift crucified upon Mount Calvary; (ſee
if
142
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
}
if a manner more infamous be poffible or imaginable) exe-
cuted publickly between two thieves, as a traitor and an he
retick, for broaching falle doctrine, and making himfelf
king, as a traitor unto Cæfar; Two crimes fo infamous, as
they not only defame the perfon who commits them, but
ſtain and infe& his whole ſtock and lineage. Behold in what
poverty he died, if greater can be thought on, to the end
thou mayeſt ſee, if it were poffible, he ſhould do more for
thee than what he did. Whilft he lived he had not where
on to repofe his head, but yet had cloaths, wherewith to co-
ver decently his nakedness; but when he died, even his
garments failed him: neither found he one drop of water
to refreſh his ſacred lips; even the earth refuſed him, want-
ing whereon to reft his reverend feet. Behold with what
grief and pains he expired, fince from head to foot he was
but one continued wound; his feet and hands were pierced
with nails, and his head with thorns. All was a high ex-
preffion of an exceffive love, and to do for thee what he
could: fee then what thou oughteft to do, and fuffer for him
who died and ſuffered for thee what he could, and could do
what he would.
After all theſe benefits, confider his giving himſelf unto
thee for food and fuftenance, in the mofl holy Sacrament:
which was noted by Chrift, when he faid, That the Lord
of the vineyard built a prefs for the wine, in which he gave
his most precious blood. It feems that the perfons of the
most holy Trinity were in competition, and ſtrove amongſt
themſelves who fhould moft oblige man with their benefits
and favours. Let us exprefs it in this manner; for to con-
ceive it, as it is in itſelf, the underſtanding of angels were
not fufficient. Here may be applied, that which antiquity
admired in two great and famous painters. Apelles went to
Rhodes to fee Protogenes, and not finding him at home, took
a pencil, and drew a moſt ſubtle line, charging the ſervants,
that they should tell their mafter, that he who drew that line.
was there to feek him. When Protogenes returned, they
told him what had happened: who took the pencil, and
drew a ſtroke of another colour, through the middle of that
which Apelles had drawn, and going about his buſineſs,
commanded his fervants, that if he came again, they ſhould
tell him, that he whom he fought for, had drawn that line
through the middle of his. It feemed, there could not be
imagined a higher favour and courtship, than that of the
eternal
!
CA P. IV.
143
the Temporal and Eternal.
eternal Father, to have given his only Son, and have deliv-
ered him up to death for man; but through the middle of
this favour, the Son drew another of moſt exceffive fineness
and fubtility, which is the inftitution of the moſt bleſſed Sa-
crament, which fome call an extenfion of the incarnation,
and is a repreſentation of the paffion, and a character and
memorial of the wonders of God. Here truly did the Son
of God draw the ſtroke of his infinite love, and conſumma-
ted all the divine benefits: not only giving himself for our
benefit and behoof, but entering into our very breasts, to
folicit our love and affection. Anacreon writes, That ſtand-
ing at defiance with the God of love, and having refifted
all his arrows, the God at laſt, when he had no more to
ſhoot, ſhot himſelf, and penetrating his heart and entrails,
compelled him to yield. What other are the benefits of
our Lord God, than fo many arrows of love which man re-
fifts? and not rendering himself neither at the benefit of
creation, conſervation, incarnation or paffion, let him at
laft render himfelf at this, when God fhoots himſelf into
him, and enters into his very breaſt and bowels to folicit his
love. If he refifts this alfo, what judgments expect him?
Whereupon St. Paul ſays, that he who prefumes to commu-
nicate unworthily, eats and drinks the judgment of God,
that is, fwallows down the whole weight of divine juftice.
Confider then, how dreadful it fhall be unto a finner,
when he ſhall receive a charge, not only of his own being,
and his own life, but alio of the being and life of God, of
the incarnation, paffion, life and death of Chrift our Re-
deemer, who hath ſo often given himſelf unto him, in the
Sacrament of his body and blood. The murtherer who
ftands charged with the life of a man, although it be of fome
wicked perfon, yet fears to be apprehended and brought to
judgment; how is it then that he, who is charged with the
life of God, trembles not? O how fearful a thing is it, when
a vile creature ſhall enter into judgment wirh his Creator,
and ſhall be demanded an account of the blood of Chriſt,
whoſe value is infinite? What account can he give of fuch
a benefit, and of all the rest which he hath received, even
from the greateſt unto the leaft? when Chrift ſhall ſay unto
him thofe words of St. Chryfoftom (c), " I, when thou
"had't no being, gave thee one, inſpired thee with a foul,
"and placed thee above all things that are upon the earth.
(c) Chryfoft. hom. 24. in Math..
!
"I for
144
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
"I for thee created heaven, air, fea, earth, and all things,
"and yet am diſhonoured by thee, and held more vile and
"baſe than the devil himſelf: and yet for all this have not
"ceaſed to do thee good, and bestowed upon thee innume-
"rable benefits For thy fake, being God, I was content
"to make myfelf a fervant, was buffetted, fpit upon, and
"condemned to a puniſhment of flaves: and to redeem
"thee from death, ſuffered death on the Crofs. In Heaven
"I interceded for thee, and from thence fent thee the Holy
"Ghost; I invited thee unto the kingdom of Heaven, of-
"fered myſelf to be thy head, thy fpoufe, thy garment,
"thy houfe, thy root, thy food, thy drink, thy fhepherd,
' thy brother; I choſe thee for the heir of Heaven, and
"drew thee out of darkneſs unto light." To fuch exceffes
of love, what have we to anſwer, but to ſtand aſtoniſhed and
confounded, that we have been fo ungrateful, and given oc-
cafion to the devil, of one of the greateſt ſcorns and injuries
which could be put upon our Redeemer, when he ſhall ſay
unto him: Thou createſt man; for him waft born in po-
verty, liveſt in labours, and dieſt in pain and torments. I
have done nothing for him, but would have drank his
blood, and fought to damn him into a thousand hells; and
yet for all this it is I, whom he ſtrives to pleafe, and not
thee. Thou doft prepare for him a crown of eternal glory,
I defire to torment him in hell: and yet he had rather ferve
me without intereft, than thee for thy promiſe of ſo great a
reward. I fhould have been aſhamed to have created, and
redeemed a wretch fo ungrateful unto him, from whom he
hath received fo great benefits; but fince he loves me better
than thee, let him be mine, unto whom he hath fo often
given up himſelf.
We are not only to give an account of theſe general be-
nefits, but of thofe which are more particular: of the good
examples which we have feen, of the inftructions which we
have heard, of, the infpirations which have been fent us,
and the facraments which we have received; we have much
to do, to correfpond with all thefe. Let us therefore trem-
ble at that ftri&t judgment; let us tremble at ourselves, who
are ſo careleſs of that, for which all the care in the world is
not fufficient: And if it were not for the blood of Chrift,
what would become of us? but the time of benefitting our-
felves, by that will be then patt; how is the time and if
we ſhall now defpife and out-rage it, in what cafe fhall we
be ?
CAP. V.
145
the Temporal and Eternal.
be? Let us not mifpend the time of this life; fince fo fe-
vere an account will be demanded of all the benefits which
we have received, out of which is the time of this temporal
life, and the bleffings of it. Let us take heed what uſe we
make of it; let us not lofe it, fince we are to answer for
every part of it. This made holy Thalileus (d) tremble and
weep bitterly, who being afked the caufe of his tears, an-
iwered: "This time is beſtowed upon us wherein to do
penance, and a most strict account will be demanded of
us if
if we deſpiſe it." It is not ours, for which we are to
anſwer: we are not the Lords of time; let us not therefore
diſpoſe of it for our own pleaſure, but for the fervice of God
whofe it is. This confideration were fufficient to with-draw
our affection, from the goods of this life, and to fettle it up-
on thoſe which are eternal, fince we are not mafters of time
and the things which are in it, but are as ſtewards to account
for it and them. Being therefore to give a reaſon how we
have employed them, for the fervice of God Almighty, let
us not without reaſon abuſe them, for our own vain guſt and
pleaſure.
CA P. V.
С А
How God even in this life, paſſes a most rigorous Judgment.
ALL
we
LL that we have hitherto ſpoken, concerning the rigour
of the divine tribunal, before which the ſoul is at the
end of life to appear, and to give an account unto his Re-
deemer, is far fhort of what really is to be. To the end
therefore that we may conceive it fomething better, I ſhall
here propoſe the ſeverity, where with God executes his judg-
ments, even in this life, wherein he makes uſe of mercy,
that from thence we may collect the rigour of the other,
where he is only to uſe his justice. By the prophet Ezekiel
(e) he ſpeaks unto his people thus: "I will pour out all my
rage upon thee, and will accomplish my fury in thee; I
"will judge thee according to thy ways, and will lay forth
"all thy wickedness against thee; my eyes fhall not pardon
(d) Sopron, in Prato fpirituali ca. 59. de Beato Thalilæo.
(e) Ezeok. 7.
66
T
thee,
146
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
"thee, neither will I have mercy. I will charge thee with
"all thy misdeeds, and thy abominations all be in the
"midit of thee; and thou shalt know that I am the Lord
"which fmites." And prefently he adds, "My wrath.
"fhall be upon all the people, the fword without, and pef-
❝tilence and famine within; he who is in the field, ſhall
die by the fword, and they who are in the city, fhall be
"devoured by peftilence and famine: and they who fly,
"ſhall fave themſelves, and ſhall all remain in the moun-
"tains, as the doves of the valleys, trembling in their ini-
>>
quity their hands fhall be disjointed, and their knees
"thall diffolve into water, for the great fear and amaze-
❝ment which God in his wrath fhall fend upon them."
But it is not much, that the Lord fhould deal thus with fin-
ners, who have forfaken their God, fince even againſt thoſe
who are defirous to do all for his honour, he proceeds with
much rigour. Let us fee how the prophet Zachary (f) fets
forth unto us the High-prieft who then lived, the ſon of Jo-
fedeck, as a lively reprefentation of the divine judgment,
whom he makes to appear before an angel, who there exer-
cifed the office of a Judge, cloathed in foul and polluted
garments, infomuch as the Lord calls him a brand, taken
out of the fire, and Satan ſtanding by his fide to accuſe him.
If then this great prieſt, zealous of the glory of God, ſtood
fo dejected and confuſed, in the preſence of an angel, as he
appeared, as a black and burned coal of hell, in unclean and
footy garments, how fhall a grievous finner, and deſpiſer of
the divine fervice, appear before God himself? But this is
more fully fignified in the Apocalyps, where our Saviour
himſelf pronounced judgment against the feven Biſhops of
Afia, who were then all alive, and most of them esteemed
great fervants of God, and fo holy, as was St. Timothy the
beloved diſciple of Paul, St. Polycarp, St. Quadratus, St.
Carpus, St. Sagaris, all in great opinion for fanctity, and
holiness of life. Let us first behold in what manner our Sa-
viour Chriſt appeared, when he came to judge them, and
after let us confider the rigorous charge which he laid againſt
them. For the first, to fignify, that nothing could be hid
or concealed from him, he flood in the midſt of ſeven can-
dleſticks, or of feven lamps, like the golden candleſtick in
the Temple, in each of which was a lighted candle; in his
hand he held feven itars, whoſe beams and fplendor enlight-
(f) Zach. 3.
ened
CAP. V.
147
the Temporal and Eternal.
ened all about him: and above all his face, was as the fun
at mid-day in his greatest force, which leaves not the leaſt
atomeun diſcovered. In fuch a brightneſs of candles, ftars
and fun, there was no fhadow, to give us to underſtand,
that nothing how little foever can be hidden, from the all-
feeing eyes of our moſt juſt judge, unto whom all things
will appear, clearly and diftin&tly, as they are in themſelves
but not content with fo many arguments of the evidence,
which he fhall have of all offences: he adds, That the eyes
of the judge were as flaming-fire, more penetrating than the
eyes of a Lynx, to fee and fearch into all things, and to
note alſo, the rigour and feverity wherewith he looks upon
offences when he comes to judge them. This certainly were
fufficient of itfelf; to fet forth the rigour of his juftice; but
to make it appear yet more terrible, he declares it by ano-
ther figure of a two-edged fword, which he held in his
mouth, to denote that the rigour of his works ſhall be great-
er than thoſe of his words, although his words themſelves
were as cutting fwords. In conclufion, all was fo full of
terror and threatning, as, although it nothing concerned
St. John, as being none of thofe who were to be judged, yet
it cauſed fo great a fear and amazement in him, that he
fell as dead upon the ground. If then St. John, only be-
holding the wrathful countenance of our Lord, not againſt
himſelf, but others, with whom alſo he intended to uſe mer-
cy, it made his feet to fail, and his pulfes to remain with-
out motion; how ſhall it fare with that finner, who ſhall be-
hold him all incenſed againſt him, and that at ſuch a time,
when he is only to uſe his juftice? I believe that if the fouls
of finners were capable of death, the terror of that fight,
would bereave that of a thouſand lives.
Let us now ſee what was found by thoſe eyes of fire, with
which Chrift fo narrowly examined the works of thoſe feven
Bishops, who were fuch as he himself vouchſafes to call
them angels. Truly he found much to reprehend in them,
that it might be verified, which was fpoken in Job, that he
found iniquity in his angels. Who would have thought,
that St. Timothy, of whom the Apoftle was fo confident, and
of whon he made fo great efteem, fhould deferve that God
fhould take away his chair, and deprive him of his church
of Epbefus? yet Chrift found him worthy of fo great a
chaftifement, and threatens to do it, if he did not amend;
and complains that he was falling from his former zeal, ex-
horting
T 2
148
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IL
horting him to do penance, which certainly he performed,
as perceiving it very neceffary for him. Greater faults he
found in the Bishop of Pergamus, as alfo in him of Thiatira,
who was St. Carpus: and in like manner exhorts them both
to do penance. And that it may appear how different are
the judgments of God from thofe of men, although the Bi-
fhop of Sardis, was held by all for a moft holy man, that
he had gained a great opinion of virtue, and that he did
many good works, yet Jefus Chriſt found, he was ſo far
from being a faint, that he remained in mortal fin. O holy
good God, who would not tremble, that he who paffed a-
mongst men for an angel, fhould by thee be reputed as a
devil? But no lefs dreadful is that which paffed with the
Biſhop of Laodicia, whofe confcience did not accufe him of
any thing, who thought he had complied with his obligati-
ons, that he exercifed great virtues, had no remorfe of any
grievous fault, or matter of importance, and yet for all this
he was fo contrary in the divine fight, that the Lord fays,
he was a mifer and miſerable, poor, blind, and naked of all
virtue. Well faid the wife-man, That man knoweth not,
whether be be worthy of love or batred. And David had
reaſon to demand of God, that he would cleanſe him from
the fins he knew not. O moſt holy Lord, and moſt righte
ous judge, how happens it that men fear thee not, fince for
wha they themselves know, they ought to tremble; and
although they hold themſelves for juft, and are not confci-
ous of any enormous fault, yet that which thou knoweſt,
only is fufficient to condemn them? Let us quake, that God
is to demand an account of thoſe fins, which we ourſelves
are ignorant of, as he did of this Biſhop of Laoidicia, and
alfo of fins committed by others, as he did of him of Thia-
tira. The divine eyes of Chrift, pierce not only into our
fecret fins, and the fins of others, but alfo difcover thofe of
omiffion; and therefore he reprehended the omiffion of the
Bishop of Pergamus, although he was very faithful unto God
in all good works, and fought his glory, and the exaltation
of his holy naine; and likewife fearches into all our evil
works, as well known as hid, as well our own as others, and
alſo into our good works, when they are not done with fer-
your and perfection. Let us tremble that in St. Timothy,
he found his works not fervent: but much more that in the
holy Bishop of Philadelphia, who was irreprehenſible, and
had not flackened nor fallen off from his firit zeal, yet he
...
found
CAP. V.
149
the Temporal and Eternal.
found wherein to reprehend him, not for commiffion of
what was bad, not for omiffion of what was good, not for
remiffion of his former fervour, but only becauſe he had lit-
tle virtue, whereas in truth, this most holy Biſhop had great
- merits, for which he was much favoured and beloved of
God. But as our obligations are infinite, fo there is no
virtue, no fanctity which in his fight appears not little. So
precife, fo exact is the divine judgment, that of feven Bi-
Thops, which were reputed angels, he found in fix wherewith
to judge and reprehend them; in one negligence, in ano-
ther inconftancy and difmaidnefs, in another flackneſs and
remiffneſs of zeal, in another wearinefs and want of perſe-
verance, in another fear, in another tepidity and indifcreti-
on, and in two at leaf, that they were in mortal fin. And
if in fuch angels his divine eyes, found where with to be of-
fended, what will they find in us finners?
The knowledge that Chrift had judged them, was of
great profit unto thofe Bishops, caufing them ever after to
comply with their duties, with grear fervour; and for thoſe
who are known who they were, it is certain that they died
faints, and for fuch are celebrated by the holy church. It
may alſo be profitable unto us, to know that we are likewiſe
to be judged with equal rigour, that we may not offend
him, unto whom we owe fo much; that we may not be te-
pid in his fervice, but perform our works fully, perfectly and
compleatly. Let the tepid fear thoſe words which our Savi-
our ſaid unto one of thofe Biſhops, "I would thou wert
"either hot or cold; but becauſe thou art luke-warm, I
"fhall begin to vomit thee out of my mouth." Of this
menace an interpreter notes, that it is more dreadful, than
if it had been of condemnation, as intimating fomething
more in particular than is to be found in the common fort
of reprobates, which is fignified by that metaphor of vomit,
which denotes an irreconcilable deteftation on God's part, a
cafting off from his paternal providence, a denying of his
efficacious helps, and a great hardness of heart in the offen-
der. Let us tremble at this threat; be careful alfo, that fo
we may not hear from the mouth of Chrift, that which hẹ
faid unto the Biſhop of Sardis, I find not thy works full be-
fore my God. Let us therefore fee how our charity ſtands,
whether it be full or not. For it is not full, if we love this
man, and not that; if we with well unto our benefactor, and
abhor him who does us injury; if we work only, and not
alfo
་
150
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
alfo fuffer; let us fee if we bear the burthens of our neigh-
bour, as if they were our own; if we prefer the conveniency
of others before our own; if we embrace with a defire of
pleaſing God Almighty things hard and painful; and if we
love him, not with words but deeds. Let us fee if our hu-
mility be full, if we do not only hate honours, but defire to
be defpifed; if we do not only not prefer ourſelves before
any, but abafe ourſelves below all. Let us fee if our pati-
ence be full; if we had not rather fuffer this than that; if
we do not only fuffer, but not complain. Let us ſee whether
our obedience be full; if we obey in things eaſy, and not in
difficult and troubleſome; if our equal and not inferior; if
we look upon God and not upon man; if we do it with re-
pugnancy and not with delight. See if the rest of thy vir-
tues be full: thou art to give an account of all; endeavour
to give a good one; fee if thou be not found in that day
with vain and empty works; for thou shalt not only be de-
manded, if thou hast done them good ones, but if thou hast
done them well. If even in this life, God will challile our
carele ffness, what will he do in the other.
Let us draw ftrength out of weakness, that we may with
all our power, and all our forces, ferve him who hath done
fo much for us. Let us fee what we have received, that we
may know what we are to return; let us look upon the
greatness of thofe benefits which have been conferred upon
us, that we may know how to meaſure our gratitude accord-
ingly and as the benefits of God have been full, and plen-
tifully heaped upon us, let not our thanks and fervices be
fhort and niggardly. Our Lord forgot not to put the feven
Prelates in mind of their obligation for his benefits; and
therefore ſaid unto the Bishop of Sardis, Keep in thy mind,
in what manner thou haft received; becaufe in divine bene-
fits, we are not only to be thankful for the ſubſtance, but
for the manner and circumſtances of them, that our grati-
tude may not only confift in the fubftance of good works,
but in the manner and circumftance of doing them, per-
forming them fully, perfectly and compleatly; and ſeeing
God hath bestowed his benefits, out of his infinite love upon
us, let us alfo ferve him with a perfect and unfeigned affec-
tion: and fince he hath employed his omnipotency for our
good and profit, let us employ our forces and faculties for
his glory and ſervice.
CAP.
CAP. VI.
151
the Temporal and Eternal.
BE
CA P. VI.
Of the End of all Time.
ESIDES the end of the particular time of this life, the
univerſal end of all time is much to be confidered; that 2
fince humane ambition paffes the limits of this life, and de-
fires honour and a famous memory after it, man may know
that after this death, there is another death to follow, in
which his memory fhall alſo die, and vaniſh away as fmoke.
After that we have finished the time of this life, the end of
all time is to fucceed, which is to give a period unto all,
which we leave behind us. Let man therefore know that
thoſe things, which he leaves behind for his memory after
death, are as vain as thoſe which he enjoyed in his life. Let
him raiſe proud Maufoleums, Let him ere&t ftatues of mar-
ble, Let him build populous cities, Let him leave a nume-
rous kindred, Let him write learned books, Let him ſtamp
his name in brafs, and fix his memory with a thouſand
nails, All must have an end; his cities fhall fink, his ftatues
fall, his family and lineage perifh, his books be burned, his
memory be defaced, and all hall end, becauſe all time muſt
end. It much imports us to perfuade ourſelves of this truth,
that we may not be deceived in the things of this world
That not only our pleafures and delights are to end in death,
but our memories at the fartheft are to end with time; And
fince all are to conclude, all are to be deſpiſed as vain and
periſhing. Cicero (g), although immoderately defirous of
fame and honour, as appears by a large epistle of his written
unto a friend, wherein he earneſtly entreats him to write the
confpiracy of Cataline, which was diſcovered by himſelf, in
a volume a-part, and that he would allow fomething in it
unto their ancient friendſhips, and publiſh it in his life time,
that he might enjoy the glory of it whilft he lived: yet
when he came to confider that the world was to end in time,
he perceived that no glory could be immortal, and therefore
fays (h), “
By reafon of deluges and burnings of the earth,
" which
1
(g) Cicer. in Ep. ad Luc.
(h) In Somn. Scip.
152
LIB. II
The Difference betwixt
፡
"which muſt of neceffity happen within a certain time, we
"cannot attain glory, not fo much as durable for any long
"time, much leſs eternal." In this world no memory can
be immortal, fince time and the world itſelf are mortal;
and the time will come, when time fhall be no more. But
this truth is like the memory of death, which by how much
it is more important, by fo much men think lefs of it, and
practically do not believe it. But God, that his divine pro-
vidence and care might not be wanting, hath alfo in this
taken order, that a matter of fo great concernment, fhould
be publiſhed with all folemnity, firft by his Son, after by his
apoſtles, and then by angels And therefore St. John writes
(i) in his Apocalyps, that he faw an angel of great might and
power, who defcended from Heaven, having a cloud for his
garment, and his head covered with a rain-bow, his face
ſhining as the fun, and his feet as pillars of fire, with the
right-foot treading upon the fea, and with the left upon the
earth, fending forth a great and terrible voice, as the roaring
of a lyon, which was anſwered by feven thunders, with o
ther moft dreadful noifes; and prefently this prodigious an-
gel lifts up his hand towards Heaven. But wherefore all
this ceremony? wherefore this ftrange equipage? wherefore
this horrid voice and thunder? all was to proclaim the death
of time, and to perfuade us more of the infallibility of it,
he confirmed it with a folemn oath, conceived in a fet-
form of moſt authentic words, lifting np his hands towards
Heaven, and ſwearing by him that lives for ever and ever,
who created Heaven and Earth, and all which is in it,
There shall be no more time. With what could this truth be
more confirmed, than by the oath of ſo great and powerful
an angel.
The greatneſs and folemnity of the oath, gives us to un-
derftand the weight and gravity of the thing affirmed, both
in refpe&t of itſelf, and the importance for us to know it.
If the death of a monarch or prince, of fome corner of the
world, prognofticated by an eclipfe or comet, caufe a fear
and amazement in the beholders, what fhall the death of the
whole world, and with it all things temporal, and of time
itſelf, fore told by an angel, with fo prodigious an appariti
on, and fo dreadful a noife produce in them, who ſeriouſly
confider it? For us alfo this thought is moft convenient,
whereby to cauſe in us a contempt of all things temporal.
(i) Apoc. 10.
Let
:
CAP. VI.
153
the Temporal and Eternal.
Let us therefore be practically perfuaded, that not only this
life ſhall end, but that there fhall be alfo an end of time.
Time fhall bereave man of this life, and time ſhall bereave
the world of his, whofe end fhall be no lefs horrible than
that of man; but how much the whole world, and the
whole race of mankind, exceeds one particular perfon, by
fo much ſhall the univerfal end furpafs in terror, the parti
cular end of this life. For this caufe the prophecies, which
foretell the end of the world, are fo dreadful, that if they
are not dictated by the holy fpirit of God, they would be
thought incredible. Chrift therefore our Saviour, having
uttered fome of them unto his difciples, becauſe they ſeem-
ed to exceed all that could be imagined, in the conclufion
confirmed them, with that manner of oath or affeveration,
which he commonly uſed in matters of greateſt importance:
Amen (which is, By my verity or verily) I fay unto you,
that the world ſhall not end before all theſe things are fulfilled.
Heaven and Earth ſball fail, but my words ſhall not fail.
Let us believe then, that time fhall end, and that the world
fhall die, and that, if we may fo fay, a moſt horrible and
diſaſtrous death; let us believe it, fince the angels and the
Lord of angels have fworn it. If it be fo then, that thofe
memorials of men, which ſeemed immortal, muſt at laſt
end fince the whole race of man is to end, let us only ſtrive
to be preſerved in the eternal memory of him who hath no
end; and let us no leſs deſpiſe to remain in the fading me-
mory of men who are to die, than to enjoy the pleaſures of
our fenfes which are to perish. As the hoarding up of rich-
es upon earth, is but a deceit of avarice, fo the defire of
eternizing our memory, is an error of ambition. The co-
vetous man must then leave his wealth, when he leaves his
life, if the thief in the mean time, do not take it from him:
and fame and renown muft end with the world, if envy or
oblivion deface it not before. All that is to end, is vain;
this world therefore, and all which is esteemed in it, is vain,
all is vanity of vanities. Let us only aim and aſpire unto
the eternal, becauſe the juſt only, as the prophet fays, fhall
remain in the eternal memory of God. The mentory of
man is (as men themſelves) frail and periſhing. What man
ambitious of a perpetual memory, would not rather choole
to be eſteemed by ten men, who were to live a hundred
years, than by a thouſand, who were to die immediately af
ter him? Let as therefore defire to be in the memory of
God
U
154
The Difference betwixt
LI B. II.
1
God, whofe life is eternity. Our memory amongst men,
can laſt no longer than men themſelves, which ſhall all die
like us; and there can be no memory immortal, amongst
thoſe who are mortal. It is therefore very expedient, that
the end of the world ſhould be accompanied by the univer-
fal judgment of all men, wherein ſhall be revealed their moſt
fecret and hidden thoughts and actions: That the murther-
er who had flain his neighbour, left he ſhould difcover his
wickedness, may not hope, and therefore it fhall remain con-
cealed: and that no man fhould be bold to fin, for want of
witneffes, fince the whole world fhail then know that, which,
if any but himfelt had known here, would have burft his
heart with fhame and forrow.
CA P. VII.
How the Elements and the Heavens are to change" at the
end of Time.
{
IET us now look upon the ftrange manner of the end
of the world, which being fo terrible, gives us to un-
derſtand the vanity and deceit of all things in it, and the
great abufe of them by man; for queftionlets, were it not
for the great malice and wickedness which reigns in the
world, the period of it would not be fo horrible and difaf
trous. St. Clement the Roman (k) writes, that he learned
of St. Peter the apoſtle, that God had appointed a day from
all eternity, wherein the army of vengeance, fhould with all
its forces, and, as we may fay, in ranged battle, fight with
the army of fin; which day is ufually called in the holy
fcripture, The day of the Lord; in which battle the army
of vengeance fhill prevail, and fhall at once extirpate, and
make an end both of fin and the world, wherein it hath fo
long reigned. And certainly if the terror of that day, fhall
equal the multitude and heinoufnefs of fins, we need not
wonder at what the facred fcripture, and holy fathers have
fore-told of it. But as it is ufual in wars, to fkirmish and
make inródes before the day of battle, fo before that dread-
ful day, wherein all puniſhments are to encounter with all
offences,
(k) Lib. recognit.
CAP. VII.
155
the Temporal and Eternal.
66
offences, the Lord ſhall from divers parts, fend forth feveral
_calamities, which ſhall be fore-runners of that great day of
battle, and fhall like light horfe-men fcour the campaign:
which St. John in the Apocalyps fignified by thoſe horſe men
which he law fally forth, upon divers coloured horses, one
red, another black, and the third pale: fo the Lord fhall
before that day, fend plagues, famines, wars, earth quakes,
droughts, inundations, deluges; and if thofe miferies do
now ſo much afflict us, what ſhall they then do, when God
hall add unto them his utmoſt force and power, when all
ereatures ſhall arm againſt finners, and the zeal of divine
juſtice ſhall be their captain-general? which the wife-man
declares in thefe words (1); "His zeal fhall take up arms,
"and ſhall arm the creatures, to revenge him of his ene-
"mies; he ſhall put on juftice as a breaſt plate, and righ-
"teous judgment as a helmet, and he ſhall take equity as
a buckler, and ſhall ſharpen his wrath as a lance, and the
"circuit of the earth fhall fight for him. Thunder-bolts
"fhall be fent from the clouds, as from a well-fhooting
"bow, and ſhall not fail to hit the mark, and hail fhall be
"fent full of ſtormy wrath. The waters of the fea fhall
"threaten them, the rivers fhall combat furiously, a moft
"trong wind fhall riſe againſt them, and ſhall divide them
"as a whirl-wind." Very dreadful are thofe words, al-
though they contain but the war, which three of the ele-
ments are to make againſt finners; but not only fire, air,
and water, but earth alfo and heaven, (as it appears in other
places of fcripture) fhall fall upon them, and confound
them; for all creatures fhall exprefs their fury in that day,
and ſhall rise against man: and if the clouds fhall diſcharge
thunder bolts and ftones upon their heads, the heavens
ſhall ſhoot no lefs balls than ftars, which, as Chrift fays,
fhall fall from thence. If hail no bigger than little ftones,
falling but from the clouds, deftroy the fields, and fome-
times kills the leffer fort of cattle, what ſhall pieces of ſtars
do, falling from the firmament, or fome upper region?
It is no amplification which the gospel ufes, when it fays,
That men fhall wither with fear, of what fhall fall upon
the whole frame of nature; for as in man, which is called
the'leffer world when he is to die, the humours, which are
as the elements, are troubled and out of order, his eyes,
which are as the fun and moon, are darkened, his other
fenles,
(1) Sap. 5.
156
LI B. II
The Difference betwixt
fenfes, which are as the leffer ftars, fall away, his reaſon
which is as the celestial virtues, is off the hinges: fo in the
death of the greater world, before it diffolve and expire, the
fun ſhall be turned into darkneſs, the moon into blood, the
ftars fhall fall, and the whole world fhall tremble with a
horrid noiſe. If the fun, moon, ond other celeſtial bodies,
which are held incorruptible, fhall fuffer fuch chances, what
fhall be done with thofe frail and corruptible elements of
earth, air and water? If this inferior world do, as the philo-
fophers fay, depend upon the heavens, thoſe celeftial bodies
being altered and broken in pieces, in what eſtate must the
lower elements remain, when the virtues of heaven fhall
faulter, and the wandering stars fhall lofe their way, and fail
to obſerve their order? How fhall the air be troubled with
violent and ſudden whirlwinds, dark tempefts, horrible
thunders, and furious flashes of lightning? and how fhall the
earth tremble with dreadful earth-quakes, opening herfelt
with a thouſand mouths, and cafting forth as it were whole
vulcano's of fire and fulphur, and not content to overthrow
the loftiest towers, fhall fwallow up high mountains, and bu̟-
y whole cities in her entrails? How fhall the fea then rage,
mounting his proud waves about the clouds, as if they meant
to over-whelm the whole earth, and hall certainly drown a
great part of it? The roaring of the ocean fhall aftonif
thoſe who are far diftant from the fea, and' inhabit in the
midſt of the firm land; wherefore Chrift our Saviour faid,
(m) that there fhould be in the earth afflictions of nations,
for the confufion of the noiſe of the ſea.
What ſhall men do in this general perturbation of nature?
they ſhall remain amazed and pale as death. What com-
fort fhall they have? they fhall ftand gazing one upon ano-
ther, and every one ſhall conceive a new fear, by beholding
in his neighbours face, the image of his own death. What
fear and horror fhall then poffets them, when they ſhall hour-
ly expect the fuccefs, and dire effects portended by theſe
monstrous prodigies? All commerce fhall then ceaſe, the
market-places fhall be unpeopled, and the tribunals remain
folitary and filenf; none ſhall be then ambitious of honours,
none ſhall ſeek after paftimes, and new invented pleaſures;
nor fhall the covetous wretch then bufy himſelf with the
care of his treasures; none fhall frequent the palaces of
kings and princes, but through fear, fhall forget even to eat
(m) Luc. 21.
and
CAP. VII.
157
the Temporal and Eternal.
and drink; all their care fhall be employed how to eſcape
thoſe deluges, earth quakes and lightnings, fecking for
places of fecurity which they fhall not meet with. Who
will then value his own defcent and lineage? who the no-
bleness of his arms and atchievments? who his wifdom and
talents? who will remember the beauty he hath once doted
upon? who the fumptuous buildings he hath reared? who
his acute and well-compofed writings? who his difcretion
and gravity in his difcourfe? And if we fhall forget what
we ourſelves moſt valued and gloried in, how fhall we re-
member that of others? what remembrance fhall there then
be of the acts of that great Alexander? Of the learning of
Aristotle and the endowments of the most renowned men
of the world? Their fame fhall remain from thence forward
for ever buried, and fhall die with the world for a whole
eternity. The mariners, when in fome furious tempeft,
they are upon the point of finking, how are they amazed at
the rage of the watery element? how grieved and afflicted
with the ruin which threatens them? what prayers and vows
do they fend up to heaven? how difinterested are they of all
worldly matters, fince they fling their wealth and riches into
the fea, for which they have run fuch hazard? In what con-
dition ſhall be then the inhabitants of the earth, when not
only the fea with his raging, but heaven and earth with a
thouſand prodigies fhall affright them? when the fun fhall
put on a robe of mourning, and amaze them with the hor-
ror of his darkness: when the moon fhall look like blood,
the ſtars fall, and the earth fhake them with its unquiet
trembling when the whirl-winds fhall throw them off their
legs, and frequent and thick flaſhes of lightning dazzle their
fight, and confound their underſtanding: what fhall finners
then do, for whofe fake all thefe fearful wonders fhall hap-
pen.
§. 2.
The fear and aftoniſhment which fhall fall upon man-
kind, when the whole power and concourfe of nature ſhall
be armed against finners, may be perceived by the fear
which hath been caufed by fome particular of thofe changes,
which are foretold to happen in the end of the world alto-
gether, and every one in great excefs. Let us therefore by
the confideration of the particular judge, confider how dread-
ful
158
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
ful fhall be the conjunction of fo many, and fo great cala-
mities. And to begin with the earth, the moſt dull and
heavy of all the elements. Cardinal Jacobus Papienfis (n),
writing what happened in his own time, reports that in the
year 1456, upon the 5th of December, three hours before
day, the whole kingdom of Naples trembled with that vio-
lence, that ſome entire towns were buried in the earth, and
a great part of many others were over-thrown, in which pe-
riſhed 60000 perfons, part fwallowed by the earth, and part
oppreffed by the ruins of buildings. What fecurity can men
look for in this life, when they are not fecure of the earth
they tread upon? What firmness can there be in the world,
when the only firm thing in it is unftable? From whence
may not death affault us, if it fprings from under our feet?
But it is not much, that the earth-quake of a whole king-
dom, ſhould cauſe fo great a ruin, fince it hath done as much
in one city. Evagrius (o) writes, that the night in which
Mauritius the emperor was married, three hours within
night, the city of Antioch quaked in that manner, that moſt
of the buildings were over thrown, and 60000 perfons re-
mained buried in the ruins. If the earth was fo cruel in
thoſe particular earth-quakes, what was it in the time of Ti
berius, when according to Pliny (p), twelve of the moſt prin-
cipal cities of Afia, were over-thrown and funk into the
earth? And yet more cruel was that related by Nicephorus,
(q) which happened in the time of the emperor Theodofius,
which lafted for fix months without intermiffion, and was fo
univerfal, that almoft the whole circuit of the earth trembled,
as extending to the Cherfonefus, Alexandria, Bitbinia, Anti-
och, Hellefpont, the two Phrygia's, the greatest part of the
Eaſt, and many nations of the Weſt.
:
And that we may alfo fay fomething of the fury of the
ſea, even against thoſe who were far diſtant from the rage
of his waves, and thought themſelves fecure in their own
houfes Moft horrible was that earth-quake related by St.
Jerome, and Ammianus Marcellinus (1), who was an eye-
witnefs of it, which happened not long after the death of
the emperor Julian, wherein not only the earth trembled,
(n) Jacob. Papienf. in Epift.
(o) Evagr. 1. 6. c. 8. Vide Niceph. lib. 18. c. 13.
(p) Plin. 1. 2. c. 84. Sen. nat. q. 1. 6.
(9) Niceph. 1. 4. c. 46.
(r) St. Hier, in vita. St. Hilarion.
}
but
CAP. VII.
159
the Temporal and Eternal.
but the fea out-paft his limits as in another deluge, and
turned again to involve the earth as in the firſt chaos. Ships
floated in Alexandria, above the loftieft buildings, and in
other places above high hills; and after that the fea was
calmed, and returned into his channel, many veffels in that
city [as Nicephorus (s) writes] remained upon the tops of
houſes, and in other parts, upon high rocks, as witneſſeth
St. Fercme. But let us hear it related by Ammianus Marcel-
linus (t), whofe words are theſe which follow: "Procopius
"the tyrant being yet alive, the 21st of July, the year
"wherein Valentinian was first time conful with his bro-
"ther, the elements throughout the whole compaſs of the
"earth, fuddenly fell into fuch diftempers and diforders, as
"neither true ftories have ever mentioned, nor falfe feign-
"ed. A little before morning, the Heavens being first
"over-caſt with a dark tempeft, intermixed with frequent
"thunders, and horrid flaſhes of lightning, the whole body
"of the earth moved, and the fea being violently driven
"back, retired in fuch manner, as the moſt hidden. bottom
"of it was diſcovered; fo as many unknown forts of fiſhes
were ſeen ſtretched out upon the mud. Thoſe vaſt pro-
"fundities beholding then the fun, whom nature from the
66
beginning of the world had hid under ſo immenfe a maſs
"of waters, many ſhips remained upon the Oaſe, or float-
"ing in fmall gullets: and fishes were taken up with men's
"hands, gaſping upon the dry fands; bur in a ſhort time
"the waves of the ſea enraged to fee themfelves baitifhed
"from their natural feats, lifted themfelves up with great
"fury against the islands, and far extended coafts of the
" continent; and what cities or buildings they encountered
66
were violently over-thrown and levelled with the ground;
"infomuch as the face of the world changed by the furious
"difcord of the elements, produced many unheard of pro-
digies. For the vast body of the waters fuddenly and
"unexpectedly returning, and entering far into the land,
many thouſands of people were drowned, whofe dead
"bodies, after the fwellings of the waves, were affwaged
"and retired unto their natural and uſual bed, were found,
"fome with their faces downward, groveling upon the
"earth, fome upwards looking upon the Heavens; and
"fome great fhips the waters left upon the tops of houſes,
(s) Niceph. 1. 10. C. 35.
46 35
(t) Ammi. Marcel. I. 20.
as
160
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
as it happened in Alexandria: others far from the fea-
"fhore, and as we ourſelves are witnefs, who faw one, as
we paffed by Methion, then old and worm-eaten." All
this lamentable ſtory is from Ammianus Marcellinus.
No lefs fearful is that which is related by Nauclerus and
Trithemius (u), that the in year 1218, The enraged fea en-
tering into Frifia, there were drowned in the fields and in
their own houſes, more than a hundred thousand perfons.
Langus adds, that afterwards in the year 1287, the ocean
again re entering the fame province, retired not till it had
left 80000 perfons drowned behind it. This mortality is
not much in a whole province, in respect of what the fea
hath done in one only city. Surius in his commentaries of
the year 1509 writes, that the day of the exaltation of the
Crofs, in September the fea betwixt Conftantinople and Pera,
fwelled with that rage and fury, that it paffed over the walls
of both cities, and that there were drowned only of Turks
in Conftantinople, above 13000. Unto theſe fo certain ex-
amples, we ſhall not need to add what Plato writes (x), al-
though Tertullian and many authors of theſe times approve
it, That the Atlantic iſland, which was feated in that fpa-
cious ocean, betwixt Spain and the Weft Indies, and which
was a greater part of the world than Afia and Africk both
together, repleniſhed with innumerable people, was by an
earth-quake, and the rain of one only day and night, (in
which the Heavens as it were melted theinfelves into water)
and the ſea over paft his bounds, buried in the ocean, with
all the inhabitants, and never fince appeared. But I will
not make uſe of this hiftory, to exaggerate the force of the
elements enraged againſt man. The modern ftories, which
we have related with more certainty are fufficient, and by
that, which happened in Frifia, may be feen with what fury
the ocean impriſoned within his proper limits iffues forth,
when God permits it to fight against finners. What ſhall
be then, when the Lord of all, fhall arm all the ments
againſt them, and ſhall give the alarm to all creatures, to
revenge him upon men, fo ungrateful for his infinite bene-
fits?
The air alfo, which is an element fo fweet and gentle, in
which we live, and by which we breathe, when God flack-
ing the bridle, draws force out of weakness, with no lefs fu-
(u) Naucler. gen. 41. fub. fin. Trit, Chron.
(x) Tertul. Apolog. cap. 39.
ry
CAP. VII. the Temporal and Eternal.
161
ry ruins and over-throws all it meets (y). It hath been ſeen
to tear up whole woods by the roots, and tranſport the trees
to places far diftant. Šurius (z) writes, that the 28th of
June, in the year 1507, at mid-night there arofe ſuch a
tempeſt in Germany, that it made the ſtrongeſt buildings
ſhake, uncovered houſes, rooted up trees, and threw them a
great diſtance off. Conradus Argentinas (a) writes, That
Henry the fixth being emperor, he himself faw great beams
of timber blown from the roof of the chief church in Ments,
as big as the beams of a wine-prefs, and that of heavy wood
as oak, flying in the air above a mile's diſtance. Above all,
who is not amazed at what Jofepbus writes in his antiquities,
and Eufebius in Præpar. Evangel. that the tower of Babylon,
which was the moſt ſtrong and prodigious building of the
world, was by God over-thrown with a tempeft? What ſhall
I ſpeak of thoſe fearful tempeſts of hail and lightning, flying
through the air from place to place to chaſtiſe finners: one
of which flew all the flocks and herds of the Egyptians:
And in Paleftine, of another hail of a ſtrange greatnefs, that
flew innumerable Amorites? Of later times in thefe parts,
in the year 1524, Clavitellus (b) writes, that near Cremona,
there fell hail as big as hens eggs; and in the Campania of
Bologna, in the year 1537, there fell ftones of 28 pound
weight. Olaus Magnus writes, that in the North, hail hath
fallen as big as the head of a man. And the Tripartite hif
tory, that in the year 369, there happened fuch a tempeft
in Conftantinople, that the hail was as rocks. Certainly it is
not then much what the prophet Ezekiel fays, that in the
end of the world fhall fall huge ftones; and what St. John
writes, that they shall be of the weight of a talent, which is
125 pounds of Roman weight. With what horrible thunder
fhall that tempeſt reſound, which fhall throw a ftone of that
greatnefs? In Scythia they write, that divers perfons have
fallen dead, with the terrible moife of the thunder in thoſe
parts. What noiſe then ſhall thoſe laſt tempeſts make, which
God fhall fend in the end of the world?
(y) Ovid. in Hift. Indic. 1. 6. ca. 3.
(z) Surius in Coment.
(a) Courad. Argen, in Chron.
(b) Clav. fol. 260. Corn. a lap. in Cap. 9. Exod. Olaus Mag.
1. 1. c. 22. Conimb. in Meteor. c. de grandine Hift. tripart. 1. 7.
c. 22. Ezek. 38. Apoc. 16.
X
All
162
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
All thofe alterations paft of the elements, are no more
than ſkirmiſhes. What fhall then be the battle, which they
are to give unto finners, when the Heavens ſhall ſhoot its
arrows, and give the alarm with prodigious thunders, and
fhall declare their wrath with horrible apparitions. St. Gre-
gory (c) the Great writes as an eye witness, that in a great
peftilence at Rome, he faw arrows vifibly fall from Heaven,
and ſtrike many men. John (d) the Deacon fays, it rained
arrows. How fhall it then be, when the heavens and air,
rain pieces of ſtars? The world was amazed when in the
time of Irene and Conftantine, the fun was darkened for 17
days together, and in the time of Vefpafian, the fun and
moon appeared not, during the ſpace of 12 days. What
fhall it be in the last days, when the fun fhall hide his beams
under a mourning garment, and the moon fhall cloath her-
felf with blood, to fignify the wars which all the creatures
are to make with fire and blood, against thoſe who have def
piſed their Creator? When on one fide, the earth fhall
rouſe itſelf up against them, and fhall ſhake them off her
back, as unwilling to endure their burthen any longer ?-
When the fea fhall pursue and affault them within their own
houſes, and the air fhall not permit them to be fafe in the
fields? Certainly it fhall be then no wonder, if they fhall
defire the mountains to cover them, and the hills to hide
them within their caverns. But all this is rather to be im-
agined than expreffed; and the very thought of it is enough.
to make us tremble. The creatures now groan to ſee them-
felves abufed by man, in contempt of his and their Creator,
but they ſhall then ſhake off their yokes, and fhall revenge
themſelves of the aggrievances, which they fuffer under him,
and the injuries he hath done unto the Creator of all. The
violences of the elements, and diſturbances of nature, which
have and may happen hereafter, are nothing in reſpect of
thoſe which fhall be in the last days; the which St. Auguftine
fays, fhall be much more horrible and dreadful than thoſe
which are paſt. And if thoſe ſingle and alone were ſo terri-
ble, (as we have already ſeen) what fhall they be when they
come all together, and from all parts; when the whole
world fhall rebel against man; when all fhall be confufion ;
when ſummer ſhall be changed into winter, and winter into
fummer,
(c) Greb. lib. 4. dialog. cap. 36.
(d) Joan.in Vit. Greg. 1. 1. c. 37. Zonar. in İren. Plin. 1. 1.
c. 13.
CAP. VII.
163
the Temporal and Eternal.
fummer, and no creature ſhall keep the prefixed law with
them, who have not obſerved the law of their Creator, that
fo they may revenge both God and themſelves?
§. 3.
But that this most fearful alteration of the creatures
which ſhall happen, may be yet more apparent, we will fpe-
cify fome of them out of the Apocalyps of St. John. Very
dreadful is that which he mentions in the eighth chapter of
hail and fire, with a rain of blood, fo general, and in fuch
abundance, that it fhall destroy the third part of the earth,
of trees and green herbs. How horrible an amazement ſhall
fo general a rain cauſe amongst men? But it is not ſo to
end. For immediately fhall appear in the air a huge moun-
tain of fire, which fhall fall all at once into the fea, and
dividing itſelf into feveral bodies, fhall burn the third part
of the fishes, the third part of fhips, and of what elfe fhall
be in the ocean The like effect ſhall proceed from a flame
or prodigious comet, which falling into the rivers and foun-
tains, and there dividing itſelf into feveral parts, fhall turn
the water bitter as worm-wood, and make them ſo petilen-
tial, as they ſhall infect thoſe who drink them, and many
fhall die with their tafte. An angel fhall then fmite the
fun, moon and ftars, and deprive them of a third part of
their light. But more horrible than all, is that which fol-
lows; that after fo many calamites, the bottomlefs pit,
which is hell, ſhall burit open, and out of his profound
throat, belch forth fo thick a ſmoke, as fhall wholly darken
the fun and air: from which ſmoke ſhall fally forth a multi-
tude of deformed locufts, which in great fwarms fhall dif-
perſe themſelves over the face of the whole earth, and leav-
ing the fields, herbs, and whot is fown, fall upon fuch men
as have been unfaithful unto God, and ſhall for five months
torment them, with greater rage than fcorpions. Some doc-
• tors_underſtanding thofe locufts according unto the letter,
(e) that they fhall be a certain kind of true locuits, but of a
strange figure and fiercenefs; others that they shall be devils
of hell, in the ſhape of locufts; and it is no marvel, that
in the deſtruction of the world, devils fhall appear in viſible
forms,
X 2
(e) Leffius de Perf. div. l. 13. c. 18. Cornel. in Apoc.
164
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
But
forms, fince in the deftruction of Babylon, they appeared in
divers figures of beafts, as was prophefied hy Ifaias.
after what manner foever. St. John fays (f), that this
plague ſhall be ſo cruel, that men fhall feek death, and ſhall
not find it, and fhall defire to die, and death fhall fie trom
them.
Many other plagues fhall happen in thoſe laſt days. For
as before that God drowned the Egyptians, and delivered
his people, he ſent ſuch plagues upon Egypt, as are record-
ed in Exodus: fo before the general destruction of finners
in that univerſal deluge, the ſea of fire, which ſhall cover
the whole earth, and out of which the faints are to eſcape
free, fo much greater plagues fhall proceed, as the whole
world is greater than Egypt. For not only the rivers and
fountains fhall then be turned into blood, but the whole fea
ſhall be converted into a moſt black gore. The Lord fhall,
alſo in thoſe days, fend horrible blotches and fores upon men;
and the ſun ſhall ſcorch them in that manner, as they fhall
loſe their ſenſes, and fome of the wicked fhall turn againſt
God, and blafpheme, as if they were already in hell. The
earth alfo fhall tremble; and that not being the greateft,
which is recounted in the fixth chapter of the Apocalyps, yet
the apoſtle relates fuch things of it, as are able to strike a
fear and amazement in thoſe who hear it. His words are
theſe : There was a great earth-quake, and the fun be-
came as fack-cloth, and the moon as blood; the ſtars fell
"from Heaven, as a fig-tree caſts off its green figs, when it
"is fhaken by a violent wind The Heavens were folded
:
up as a book, or as a roll of parchment and all moun-
"tains and iſlands moved from their places." I leave unto
the confideration of every one, what fall then become of
thoſe who will remain alive in that conflict. St. John lays,
that kings and princes, the rich and ftrong, flaves and free-
men, ſhall hide themfelves in caves and rocks, and ſhall lay
unto the mountains and hills, fall upon us and cover us.
And the fame St. John fays further, that there shall be yet a
greater earth-quake, which fhal' be the greateſt hat ever hap
pened fince the foundation of the world was laid, in which
the flands fhall fink, and the mountains fhall be made even
with the plains. Horrible lightnings and thunders fhall af
fright the inhabitants of the earth, and hail tones ſhall fall
of the weight of a talent, which is of five Arrobas, an He-
brew
f) Ifa. c. 34. & 13.
CAP. VII.
165
the Temporal and Eternal.
brew talent weighing 125 Roman pounds. This plague join-
ed with fo ftrange an earth-quake, how ſhall it aftonifh thofe
who will be then alive?
§. 4.
But how fhall it then fare with finners, when after all ſhall
come that general fire, fo often fore-told in holy ſcripture,
which fhall either fall from Heaven, or afcend out of Hell,
or [according to Albertus Magnus (g)] proceed from both,
and ſhall devour and confume all it meets with? Whither
fhall the miferable flie, when that river of flames, or (to fay
better) that inundation and deluge of fire, ſhall fo encompaſs
then, as no place of furety fhall be left, where nothing can
avail but a holy life, when all befides fhall perish, in that
univerſal ruin of the whole world? What ſhall it then profit
the worldlings, to have rich veffels of gold and filver, curious
embroideries, precious tapestries, pleafant gardens, fumptu-
ous palaces, and all what the world now efteems, when they
ſhall with their own eyes, behold their costly moveables burn-
ed, their rich and curious pieces of gold melted, and their
flourishing and pleafant orchards confumed without power,
either to preſerve them or themselves? Alfhall burn, and
with it the world, and all the fame and memory of it ſhall
die; and that which mortais thought to be immortal, fhall
then end and perish. No more fhall Ariftotie be cited in the
fchools, nor Uipion alledged in the tribunals; no more fhall
Plato he read amongst the learned, nor Cicero imitated by
the orators; no more fhall Seneca be admired by the under-
ftanding, nor Alexander extolled amongst captains; all fame
fhall then die, and all memory be forgotten. O vanity of
men, whole memorials are as vain as themſelves; which in
few years perith, and that which last longeft, can endure no
longer than the world! What became of that flarue of maf·
fy gold, which Gorgias the Leontin, placed in Delphos, to
eternize his name; and that of Gabrion in Rome; and that
of Berofus, with the golden tongue in dibens, and innume-
rable others erected to great captains in braſs, or hardeſt
marble? certainly many years fince they are perished, or, if
not yet, they fhall perish in this great and general conflagra-
tion. Only virtue no fire can burn.
Three
(g) Vide P. Grana. de noviſſ. Alb. Mag. in comp. Theolog.
166
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
:
Three hundred and fixty ftatues were erected by the
Athenians, unto Demetrius Phalareus, for having governed
their common wealth ten years with great virtue and pru-
dence; but of fo little continuance were theſe trophies, that
thoſe very emblems, which were raiſed by gratitude, were
foon after deftroyed by envy: and he himſelf, who faw his
ftatues fet up in fo great a number, faw them alſo pulled
down but he ftill retained this comfort, which chriftians
may learn from him, that beholding how they threw his
images unto the ground, he could fay at leaft, They can-
not overthrow thofe virtues, for which they were erected.
If they were true virtues, he faid well; for thoſe, neither
envy can demoliſh, nor humane power deftroy: and which
is more, the divine power will not in this general deſtruction
of the world confume them, but will preferve in his eternal
memory, as many as ſhall perfevere in goodneſs, and die in
his holy grace; for only charity and chriftian virtues ſhall
not end, when the world ends. The fight of thoſe triumphs.
exhibited by Roman captains, when they conquered fome
mighty and powerful kings, lafted but a while, and the me-
mories of the triumphers not much longer; and now there.
are few who know that Metellus triumphed over king Jugur-
tba, Aquilius over king Ariftonicus, Atilius over king Anti-
acbus, Marcus Antonius over the king of Armenia, Pompey
over king Mithridates, Ariftobulus and Hiarbas Emilius
over king Perfeus, and the emperor Aurelius over Cenobia,
queen of the Palmirens. If few know this, but dumb
books and dead paper, when thoſe ſhall end, what ſhall then
become of their memories? How many hiftories hath fire
conſumed, and are now no more known, than if they had
never been written? neither to do nor write, can make the
memory of man immortal. Ariftarchus wrote more than a
thouſand commentaries of ſeveral ſubjects, of which not one
line remains at preſent. Chryfippus wrote feven hundred
volumes, and now not one leaf is extant. Theophraftus
wrote three hundred, and ſcarce three or four remain.
Above all, is that which is reported of Dionyfius Grammati-
cus, that he wrote three thouſand five hundred works, and
now not one ſheet appears. But yet more is that which
Fambilicus teftifies of the great Trismegiftus, that he compo-
fed thirty-fix thouſand five hundred twenty-five books, and
all thoſe are, as if he had not written a letter; for four or
five little and imperfect treatiſes, which pafs under his
the
name,
4
CAP. VII.
167
the Temporal and Eternal.
name, are none of his. Time even before the end of time,
leaves no books nor libraries. By the affiftance of Demetrius
Pbalareus, king Ptolomy collected a great library in Alexan-
dria, in which were stored all the books he could gather
from Caldea, Greece and Egypt, which amounted to ſeventy
thouſand volumes, but in the civil-wars of the Romans it
periſhed, by that burning which was caufed by Julius Cæfar.
Another famous library amongst the Greeks of Policrates,
and Pbififtratus, was fpoiled by Xerxes. The library of
Bizantium, which contained a hundred and twenty thou
fand books, was burned in the time of Bafilifcus. That of
the Roman Capitol was in the time of Commodus, turned in-
to aſhes by lightning; and what have we now of the great
library of Pergamus, wherein were two hundred thouſand
books? Even before the end of the world, the most con-
ftant things of the world die. And what great matter is it,
if thoſe memorials in paper be burned, fince thofe in brafs
melt, and thoſe of marble periſh? That prodigious amphi-
theatre, which Stabilius Taurus (h) raiſed of ftone, was
burned in the time of Nero: the hard marble not being able
to defend itſelf from the foft flames. The great riches of
Corinth in gold and filver, were melted when the town was
fired; thoſe precious metals could neither with their hard-
nefs refift, nor with their value hire a friend to defend them,
from thoſe furious flames. If this particular burning, in the
moft flourishing time of the world, caufed fo great a ruin,
what ſhall that general one, which fhall make an end of the
world, and all things with it?
§. 5.
Let us now confider (as we have already in earth-quakes
and deluges) what great aſtoniſhment and deftruction hath
fometime happened by fome particular burnings, that by
them we may conceive the greatness of the horror and ruin,
which will accompany that general one of the whole world.
What lamentations were in Rome, when it burned for feven
days together? What fhrieks were heard in Troy, when it
was wholly confumed with flames? What howling and af-
toniſhment in Pentapolis, when thofe cities were destroyed
with fire from Heaven? Some fay they were ten cities,
Strabo thirteen, Jofephus and Lira five, that which is of
faith
(h) Vide Lipf. in Amph.
168
LIB. H.
The Difference betwixt
4
faith is, that there were four at leaſt, who with all their in-
habitants were confumed. What weeping was there in fe-
rufalem, when they beheld the houſe of God, the glory of
their kingdom, the wonder of the world involved in fire and
fmoke? And that we may draw nearer unto our own times,
when lightning from heaven fell upon Stockholm, the capi-
tal city of Sweden, and burned to death above 1600 perfons,
befides an innumerable multitude of women and children,
who hoping to efcape the fire at land, fled into the fhips at
fea, but overcharging them were all drowned: Imagine
what that people felt, when they ſaw their houſes and goods
on fire, and no poffibility of faving them: when the huf-
band heard the fhrieks and cries of his dying wife: the fa-
ther of his little children, and unawares perceived himſelf fo
encompaffed with flames, that he could neither relieve them
nor free himſelf (i), What grief, what anguifh poffeffed the
hearts of thoſe unfortunate creatures, when to avoid the fu-
ry of the fire, they were forced to trust themſelves to the no
lefs cruel waves, when by their own over-hafty crowdings
and indiſcretion, they faw their fhips over-whelmed, and
themſelves compelled to efcape the burning of their country,
to ſtruggle with the water, and that which way foever they
turned, they perceived death ftill to follow them, and were
certain to periſh? What fhall be then the ftreights and exi-
gencies of that general burning, when thofe who fhall ef-
cape earth-quakes, inundations of the fea, the fury of whirl-
winds, and lightning from heaven, fhall fall into that uni-
verſal fire, that deluge of flames, which fhall confume all,
and make an end both of men and their memories?
thoſe who lived before the flood, and were masters of the
world for fo long a time, except it be of fome few, which
the ſcripture mention, we know nothing. Thofe heroical
actions, which certainly fome of them performed, and gain-
ed by them incomparable fame, lie buried in the waters,
and there remains no more memory of thoſe who did them,
than if they had never been born. No more permanent ſhall
be the fame of those, which now refounds in the ears of the
whole world, Cyrus, Alexander, Hannibal, Scipio, Cæfar,
Auguftus, Plato, Ariftotle, Hippocrates, Euclid, and the
reſt: no more world, no more faine. This fire ſhall end all
that ſmoke.
1
(i) Albert, Krant. Suec. 1. 5. c. 3.
Of
Nor
CAP. VII.
169
the Temporal and Eternal.
Nor is the world without convenient proportion to end in
fire, which is now fo full of ſmoke. There are few compa-
rifons (as hath been faid in the beginning of this work)
which expreſs better what the world is, than that which St.
Clement the Roman learned of St. Peter the apostle, who faid
the world was like a houfe full of ſmoke, which in fuch
manner blinds the eyes, as it fuffers not thofe within it to fee
things as they are; and fo the world with its deceits, fo dif-
guiles the nature of humane things, as we perceive not what
they are.
Ambition and humane honour (which the world
fo much dotes after) are no more than fmoke without fub-
ftance, which fo blinds our underſtanding, that we know not
the truth of that we ſo much covet. It is no marvel, that fo
much smoke comes at laft to end in flames. The fmoke of
the mountains Vefuvius and Etna, when it ends in fire, and
burfts forth into thoſe innumerable flames, hath amazed the
world, and rivers of fire have been ſeen to iffue from their
bowels. Vefuvius (k) is near unto Naples, and the fire hath
fometimes fallied forth with that impetuous violence, that, as
grave authors affirm, the afhes have been feen in Conftanti-
nople and Alexandria. And as St. Augufline (1) writes, that
the afhes of mount Etna over-whelmed the city of Catanea :
and in our time, when Vefuvius burit out, the very flame of
it terrified places far diftant and fecure. And now lately in
the year 1638, the 3d of July, near the iſland of St. Micba-
el, one of the Terceras, the fire bursting out from the bot-
tom of the fea 150 fathoms deep, and over-coming the
weight of fo huge a mass of water, fent up his flames unto
the clouds, and made many places (although far diftant) to
tremble. With what fury then fhall the general conflagrati-
on of the world burit forth? that part, which ſhall iffue forth
of hell, and from beneath the earth, fhall fill the world with
afhes before it be involved in flames; and when a crack of
thunder, or a flaſh of lightning amazes us ſo much, that fire
which falls from heaven, what violence and noiſe fhall it
bring along with it? Lot the nephew of Abraham, being ſe-
cure in confcience, and promifed by the angel of God, that
for his fake the city of Seger ſhould not be burned, but that
he might reft fafe in it, was not withstanding, fo affrighted.
with the fire which fell upon other cities, in that valley of
Pentapolis, that notwithstanding he faw it not, yet he held
Y
(k) Zon. in Tito. Proc. I. 2.
(1) St. Aug. 1. 3. de Civit. c. 31.
himfelf
170
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
himself not fafe, but retired unto the mountains. What
counſel ſhall finners take in that extremity, when their own
conſcience ſhall be their acculers, and when they fhall be-
hold the world all on fire about them? whither fhall they
flie for fafety, when no place will afford it? Shall they climb.
unto the mountains? thither the flames will follow them.
Shall they defcend into the valleys? thither the fire will pur-
fue them. Shall they fhut themſelves np in ftrong caftles
and towns? but there the wrath of God will affault them,
and that fire will pafs their foffes, confume the bulwarks, and
make an end both of them and their fortunes.
Befides the contempt of all things, which the world ef-
teems, which we may draw from this general deſtruction of
it by fire, we may alfo perceive the abomination of fin: fince
God to purify the world from that uncleanness, wherewith
our offences have polluted it, is refolved to cleanfe it with
fire, as he anciently washed it with the waters of the deluge.
Such are our fins, that for being only committed in the
world, the world itself is condemned to die; what fhall ther
become of those who finned (m)? But from this fo terrible a
fire, the faints then alive ſhall be free, that it may appear, it
was only prepared for finners, and that nothing can then
avail but virtue and holiness. The rich man fhall not be
delivered by his wealth, nor the mighty by his power, nor the
crafty by his wiles; only the juft fhall be freed by his vir
tues; none hall efcape the terror of that day by faft failing
ſhips, or ſpeed of horles: the fea itſelf ſhall burn, and the fire
ſhall overtake the fwifteft poft; only holiness and charity
fhall defend the fervants of Chrift: unto whom the tribula-
tions of thoſe times fhall ferve to purify their fouls, by fufter-
ing that in this life with reward, which they fhould other-
wife have done for a time in the other without it. Albertus
Magnus, obferves the convenience of the two elements, by
which God refolved twice to destroy the world: The first by
water againſt the first of the flesh, and heat of concupifcence,
which fo inordinately tyrannized over all virtue before the ge-
neral flood: The fecond he hath appointed to be by fire,
against the coldness of charity, which in thofe laft days,
ſhall reign in the aged and decrepid world. And as in the
deluge of waters, only the chaft Noah and his wife, who
were moſt continent in matrimony, and his fons and daugh-
ters, who obferved chastity all the time they continued in the
(m) Leff. de perf. div. 1. 13. c. 10.
Ark,
CAP. VIIL
171
the Temporal and Eternal.
Ark, efcaped drowning: fo in that general fire of the world,
only the juft, who fhall be replenished with charity, ſhall be
free from burning. The deluge of waters over-whelmed
not him, who was not burned with the heat of carnal love;
neither ball the deluge of fire destroy them, who are en-
flamed with divine charity.
1
CA P. VIII.
How the Worll ought to conclude, with fo dreadful an end,
in which a general Judgment is to pass of all that is
in it.
то
To be fubject to an end (as hath been faid) were fuffici
ent to breed in us, a contempt of all things temporal;
for what is to conclude in a not being, is already not much
diſtant from it, and fo differing little from nothing, ought
not to be valued much more, than if it were nothing. But
unto this neceffity of ending, is annexed that fo notable cir-
cumſtance of ending, after fo dreadful and terrible a man-
ner, as we have already feen. I have therefore been fo full
in expreffing of it, that we may perceive by this ſo ſtrange a
manner of conclufion, what our exorbitant malice in the
abuſe of the creatures, hath added unto their proper vanity;
for it is we, who by our vice, have made them of much leſs
value, than they are by their own nature: fo as in the con-
dition they now ftand, they are much to be deſpiſed. Na-
tural delights are in themfelves more pure, and leſs hurtful,
than humane malice hath made them, which hath render-
ed them more costly, dangerous and difficult, and therefore
lefs pleafant; for what is fubje& to care and danger, muſt
of neceffity be mixed with trouble. Honey lofes its fweet-
neſs, if mixed with gall, and the moſt generous wine is cor-
rupted with a little vinegar; by which may appear the er-
sor of our appetites, which ſtriving to augment our plea
fures, hath leffened them, and by adding inordinate relifh-
es, to what nature had fimply and regularly provided, hath
rather invented new afflictions than contents. Our gluttony
is not pleafed with favoury food, but what we eat must be
rape
172
The Difference betwixt
LI B. II.
rare and coſtly it contents not itself with the bare tafle of
meat, which is its proper object, but feeks after Imell and
colour; it is not cooked, if not difguifed, neither will that
ferve, if not accommodated with ſeveral forts of fpices. Salt
and ſugar ſeaſons not what we eat, but mutk and amber.
Neither is our feeling content with the warmth of our appa-
rel, but looks after colour, faſhion and expence; and we are
more follicitous, that it may appear neat and curious unto
others, than that it may decently cover and cheriſh our ne-
ceffitated members, taking occafion by the neceffity of na-
ture, to nouriſh our vices, apparel ferving rather the ambi-
tion and pride of our minds, than the nakednels of our bo-
dies.
But it is not much, that we content not ourſelves with the
natural uſe of things, fince we are not pleafed with nature
itſelf, but adulterate it with art; not only women, but men
die their hair, and counterfeit their faces and flatures, and
the creature to the injury of the Creator, prefumes to form
himſelf after another manner, than God thought fit to make
him. In like manner, riches are not meaſured out for hu-
mane neceffity and conveniency, but for pomp and arro-
gancy in the acquifition and ufe whereof, we look not fo
much what fuffices for life, and the lawful pleasures of it,
as what ſerves for pride and oftentation, wherein confuming
our wealth and fortunes, we loſe the uſe of them, and what
was only ordained as a remedy of our neceffities, by our
abuſe, augment and make them greater: Whereupon it
commonly happens, that rich men are most in want, and
great perfonages are more indebted and engaged, than
meaner people. Honour and fame are fo adulterated, that
they are not only defired as a reward of virtues, but of vi-
çes. All thefe abuſes, are the faults of the world, which
hath made humane life more troubleſome and full of dan-
ger, than it is by neceffity and condition; and therefore it
was convenient, that the world ſhould end with trouble and
confufion, fince the abuſe of it hath been with fo much
ſhame and impudence: and that itſelf alfo fhould be judged
which hath fuitained and fed the vanity and folly of man,
with things fo baſe and defpicable. The ancient philoſo-
phers placed virtue, and the felicity of man in living, ac-
cording unto nature; but what content and happineſs can
there be, when all the pleaſures of life are fo fophifticated
with art, as they are wholly different from that which nature
requires?
CAP. VIII.
173
the Temporal and Eternal.
requires and what virtue can be expected from them, who
live according to fo much malice? But chriſtians, who
ought not only to live conformable to nature, but unto grace
and the example of Chrift, make it apparent how juft it is,
that the wicked fhould give an account of thoſe things,
which they have uſed fo contrary unto his divine pleafure.
§. 2.
And ſo not only thofe things, which are ſpoken of in the
preceding chapter, are to be of terror and fear in the end of
the world, but more eſpecially that ftrict account, which
God fhall then exact from the whole lineage of man. For
as in the death of particular perfons, there is to be a particu-
lar judgment, fo in the death of the world, a general judg-
ment is to paſs upon all; and as the most terrible thing of
death, is that particular reckoning, fo in the end of the world
is that univerſal reckoning, when God fhall demand an ac-
count of his divine benefits, and fhall judge the abuſes of
them, and all the fins of men: making it to appear to the
whole world, how good and gracious he hath been towards
them, and how rebellious and ungrateful they have been to-
wards him. The manifeſtation of which truth, will be of
more terror unto the wicked, than all the plagues and pro-
digies of earth quakes, inundations, tempefts, locufts, pefti-
lences, famines, wars, lightnings and fire, which have gone
before. Therefore Guigo Carthufianus (n) faid well, that
the most terrible thing of that day was the truth, that ſhould
then appear against finners. And without doubt, neither
thofe ftupendous thunders, nor that furious roaring of the
fea, nor any other wonder of thofe last times, fhall bring
that confufion upon finners, as to fee the great reafon which
God had to be ſerved, and the none at all, which they then
had to diſpleaſe him. It was therefore moſt convenient,
that after the particular judgment of each man a part there
fhould be an univerfal judgment of all together, in which
God fhould make appear the righteouſneſs of his proceed-
ings, and give a general fatisfaction of his juftice, even to
the dimned and devils. And becauſe in the death of man
(as St. Thomas (0) notes) all, what was his, dies not, for
there remains his memory, his children, his works, his ex-
(n) Guigo Carth. in med.
(0) 3. p. 2. q. d. 59. art. 5.
ample,
174
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
ample, his body, and many of thoſe things in which he
placed his affection: it is therefore reafon, that all thofe
Thould enter into that general judgment with him, that he
may know; that he is not only to give an account of his
life, but of thofe things alfo which he leaves behind him.
The fame and memory, of man after death, doth not often-
times correſpond unto the deferts of his life, and it is juft,
that this deceit fhould be taken off; and that the virtuous,
whom the world made no account of, fhould then be ac-
knowledged for fuch, and he who had fame and glory with-
out merit, fhould then change it into fhame and confufion.
O how deceived fhall the ambitious then find themſelves,
who to the end they might leave a name behind them, nei-
ther obſerved juftice with others, nor virtue in themſelves;
how fhall they change their glory into ignominy? Let us
by the way look upon fome of them, who have filled the
world with their vain fame, who ſhall in that day by ſo much
fuffer the greater difgrace, by how much the world hath be-
ftowed more undeferved honours upon them. Who more
glorious than Alexander the Great, and Julius Cæfar, whom
the world hath ever eſteemed, as the most great and valorous
captains that it ever produced, and their glory ftill conti-
nues freſh after fo many ages paft? What was all they
did, but acts of rapine, without right or title, unjustly tyran-
nizing over what was none of theirs, and ſhedding much
innocent blood, to make themſelves lords of the earth? All
thefe actions were vicious, and therefore unworthy of ho-
nour, fame or memory; and fince they have for fo many
hundreds of years, remained in the applauſe and admiration
of men, there fhall in that day fall upon them fo much ig-
nominy, ſhame and confufion, as fhall recompence that past
honour, which they have unworthily received and viciouſly
defired. This ambition was fo exorbitant in Alexander, that
hearing Anaxartes the philofopher affirm, that there were
many worlds, he fighed with great refentment, and cried
out, Miferable me, that am not yet Lord of one. This devil-
iſh and vain pride, was extolled by many, for greatneſs of
fpirit, but was in truth the height of vanity and arrogant
ambition, which could not be contained in one world, but
with one defire, tyrannized over many and ſhall then be
puniſhed with the public ignominy of all men, not only in
refpect of the fame, which he hath fo unjustly enjoyed, but
of the ill example which he hath given to others, and prin-
cipally
CAP. VIII.
175
the Temporal and Eternal.
cipally unto Cæfar, who as he followed his example in ty
ranny, did likewife imitate him in ambition, and the defire
of rule and vain honour; and therefore beholding his fta-
tue in Cadiz (p), at fuch time as he was queftor in Spain,
complained of his own fortune, that at the age, wherein
Alexander had fubjugated all Aſia, he had yet done nothing
of importance; counting it for a matter of importance, to
tyrannize over the world, and to the end he might make
himself lord of it, to captivate his country. In like manner
Ariftotle ſo celebrated for his writings, in which he conſumed
many fleepless nights only to purchaſe glory, and to make it
greater in his confuting of other philofophers, uſed little in-
genuity, taking their words in a far other ſenſe, than they
meant or fpake them. This labour of his, fince it proceeded
not from virtue, but was performed with fo little candour
and fincerity, meerly to obtain a vain reputation, deſerved
no glory; and therefore a confufion equal unto the honour,
they unduly now give him, fhail then fall upon him. And
fince he put his difciple Theodeus to fo much fhame, his
own ambition will be to him occafion of greater confufion.
Ariftotle gave to this his difciple Theodectus, certain books
of the art of oratory, to the end he fhould divulge them:
But afterwards réfenting much, that another fhould carry all
the praise, he owned the faid books publickly. And for this
reaſon in other books which he wrote, he cites himself, fay-
ing, As be bad faid in the books of Theodectus. Wherein is
clearly feen Ariftotle's ambition, or defire of glory, and
therefore was unworthy of it, and with just ignominy, ſhall
pay the unjuſt glory he now poffeffeth. Infomuch then ast
not only fame and memory are vain, in refpe& they are to
end and finiſh, as all things with the world are, but alſo be-
cauſe their undeferved and pretended glory, is then to be fa-
tisfied with equal fhame and confufion, the affront they ſhall
receive in that one day, being equivalent unto the fame and
honour of thouſands of years; Neither can the moſt famous
men amongst the Gentiles, be admitted by fo many in ten
ages, as ſhall then fcorn and contemn them.
How many
are ignorant, that there ever was an Alexander? And how
many in all their lives never heard of Ariftotle? And yet
fhall in that day know them, not for their honour, but con-
fufion. The name of the great and admired Alexander, is
unknown
(p) De Alex. Vide Val. Max. 1. 3. De Julio Cæf. Vid. Fulg. 1. 8.
!
176
The Difference betwixt
LI B. II.
unknown unto more nations than known. The Japanians,
Chineſes, Cafres, Angolans, other people, and moft extend-
ed and fpacious kingdoms, never heard who he was, and
fhall then know him only for a public thief, a robber, an
oppreffor of the world, and for a great and an ambitious
drunkard.
The fame, which is to pafs in fame and memory, is alſo
to paſs in children, in whom, as St. Thomas (q) fays, the
fathers live and as from many good parents, fpring evil
children, ſo contrarywife from evil parents, come thoſe that
are good, which ſhall be in that day, a confufion to thoſe
who begat them, and by fo much the greater, by how much
worfe was the example, which they gave them. Neither
fhall the judge only enquire into the example they have
given their children, but alſo unto ſtrangers, and principally
the works which they have left behind them. And there-
fore as from the deceit of Arius (faith the angelical doctor)
and other heretics have, and fhall fpring divers errors and
herefies, until the end of the world: fo it is fit, that in that
laſt day of time ſhould appear the evil, which hath been oc-
cafioned by them, that we may in this life, not only take a
care for ourſelves, but others; fo as it is a terrible thing (as
Cajetan notes upon that article before-mentioned of the an-
gelical doctor) that the divine judgment fhall extend, even
to thoſe things which are by accident, which is, as the di-
vines ſpeak, unto thofe which are befides our will and in-
tention.
St. Thomas alfo informs us, That by reafon of the body,
which remains after death, it was convenient that the fen-
tence of each one in particular, fhould be again repeated in
that general judgment of the whole world: Becaule many
bodies of just men are now baried in the maws of wild
beasts, or otherwife remain without interment; and to the
contrary, great finners have had fumptuous burials, and
magnificent fepulchres, all which are to be recompenced in
that day of the Lord; and the finner, whofe body repoſed
in a rich Mausoleum, thall then fee himself not only without
ornaments and beauty, but tormented with intolerable pains;
and the juft, who died, and had no fepulchres, but were
devoured by ravenous birds, fhall appear with the bright-
nefs of the heavens, and with a body glorious as the fun.
Let thoſe confider this, who confume vaſt fums in pre-
paring
(q) St. Thom. fupra.
CAP. VIII.
177
the Temporal and Eternal.
paring for themſelves ftately fepulchres, and beautiful urns,
engraving their names, actions, and dignities in rich
marbles, and let them know that all this, if they ſhall be
damned, ſhall ſerve them in that day, but for their greater
fhame and reproach. Out of this life we can carry nothing
but our good works, and let us not add unto our evil ones,
that of vain glory, in ſeeking to leave behind us a vain fame
and renown.
What remains unto king Porfenna (r) of that
heavy burthen, wherewith he grieved and afflicted his whole
kingdom, in rearing him a fepulchre of that rare and fump
tuous workmanship, but a teftimony of his pride and folly?
In like manner the monument of the emperor Adrian, which
was the beauty and glory of Rome, ſhall then be changed
into a fcorn. Lastly, St. Thomas teaches us, that temporal
things, on which we place our affections, becauſe ſome laft
a longer, and fome a ſhorter time, after death ſhall all enter
with us into divine judgment. Let us take heed therefore
whereon we ſet our hearts, fince the accompliſhing of what
we wish, may be a puniſhment of our defires. Thofe things
of the earth, which we most love and defire, ſhould conti-
nue, if they be taken from us, it is a chaſtiſement of our
earthly affection: and if we be permitted to enjoy them, let
us fear that they be not the temporal reward of fome good
work, which may either diminish or deprive us of the eter
nal. Befides this, becauſe not only the foul of man hath
offended, but the whole man both in foul and body, it was
fit that both ſoul and body fhould be judged, and appear
before the tribunal of Chrift, and that in public, becaufe
none ſhould prefume to fin in fecret, fince his fins are to be
revealed, and make known to all, paft, preſent and to come.
A terrible caſe it is, that this paffage of divine judgment,
which (according as we have faid out of holy Job) appears
unto the faints more terrible, than to fuffer all the pains of
Hell, is twice to be acted, and this fo bitter trance to be
again repeated the fecond time, being unto finners of great-
er horror and confufion than the first.
(t) Plin. l. 56. c. 13.
N
CAP.
178
LI B. II.
The Difference betwixt
THAT
HẠT
CA P. IX.
Of the last Day of Time.
HAT we may now come to handle the manner of this
univerfal judgment, which is to pass upon time and
men, we are to fuppofe that this fire, which is to precede
the coming of Chrift, is at his defcent, to continue in affift-.
ance of his divine juftice, and after his return unto Heaven,
attended by all the juft, to remain until it hath purged and
purified thefe inferior elements; which is noted by Albertus
Magnus (s), and collected from divers places of the divine.
fcriptures. We are alfo to fuppofe, that this coming of
Chrift, is to be with greater terror and majesty, than hath
been yet manifefted by any of the divine perfons, either in
himself or any of his creatures. If an angel which repre-
fented God, and was only to promulgate the law, came with
that terror and majesty unto Mount Sinai, as made the He
brew people, though purified and prepared for his coming,
to quake and tremble; what ſhall the Lord of the law do,
when he himself comes to take an account of the law, and
to revenge the breach of it? With what terror and majeſty
ſhall he appear unto men plunged in fin, and unprepared for
his reception, who are then to be all prefent, and judged in
that laſt day of time?
The day in which the law was given, was very memora-
ble unto the Hebrews: And this day, where an account of
the law is to be given, will be horrible, and ought perpetu
ally to remain in the memory of all mankind. But before
we declare what ſhall pafs in this, let us fay fomething of
what hath already paffed in that, that from the horror of the
first appearance, we may gather fomething of what ſhall
happen in the ſecond, and from the majefty, where with an
angel appeared when he gave the law, collect fomething of
the majesty of the Lord of angels, when he judges the law.
Fifty days after the departure of the fons of Irael out of
Egypt, after fo many plagues and puniſhments poured up-
on
(s) Albert. Mag. in comp. Theol. lib. 7. c. 15. Leff. de perf.
div. lib. 13. c. 30 & 23.
CAP. IX.
179
the Temporal and Eternal.
¿
on that kingdom, after the burying of the unbelieving Egyp-
tians, who purfued them in the bottom of the red fea, and
that the Hebrews having efcaped their enemies, were lodged
round about Mount Sinai (t). There was feen to come în
the air from far, that is, from Mount Seir in Idumea, a Lord
of great power, attended with an infinite multitude of an-
gels: In fo much as David fings, that ten thouſand com-
paffed about his chariot. And Mofes fpeaking of many
thouſands which attended him, fays alfo, that he carried în
his right-hand the law of God all of flaming fire; and yet
he who came in this height of majesty, waited on with thofe
celeſtial ſpirits, was not God, but as we learn from St. Ste-
phen (u), only an angel, and believed to be St. Michael,
who becauſe he came in the name of God, the holy fcrip-
ture calls the Lord. This angel thus accompanied, came
feated on a dark condenfed cloud, which caft forth frequent
flashes of lightning, and refounded with dreadful cracks of
thunder, from Mount Seir unto Mount Haran in the land
of the Ishmaelites, and from thence with the fame majelty,
paffed through the air unto Mount Sinai, where the chil-
dren of Ifrael lay encamped: who at the dawning of the day
aftoniſhed with that fearful noiſe, flood quaking and treib-
ling in their tents. No fooner was the angel arrived unto
Mount Sinai, which, as the apostle fays (x), was covered
with rain, whirl-winds, ftorms and tempefts, but he defcend-
ed in flames, which wrought betwixt Heaven and Earth,
from whence iffued forth a ſmoke, black and thick as from
a furnace; during which time a trumpet was heard to found
with that piercing vehemence, that as it encreated in loud-
nefs, ſo fear encreaſed in the amazed Ifraelites, who now
food quaking at the foot of the mountain, but were by the
angel (fo much would he be refpected) commanded by the
mouth of Mofes not to approach it, left they died. After
which the angel began with a dreadful voice to proclaim
the law which was pronounced with fo much life and vi-
gour, that notwithſtanding the horrid noiſe of thunder, the
Aahes of lightning, and the fhrill and penetrating found of
the trumpet ftill continued, yet all the Hebrews, who with
their tents over-fpead thofe vaft deferts, and many thouſands
of Egyptians, who were converted and followed them,
heard, conceived, and understood it clearly and diftinctly s
Nay,
(t) Deut. 33. Vid. Barrad, 1. 6. | (u) A&t. 7.
htia. c. 5. Pf. 65. Deut. 33.
(x) Heb. 42.
180
L 1 B. II.
The Difference betwixt
A
Nay, fo piercing was the voice, that it entered and imprint-
ed itſelf in their very bowels, fpeaking unto every one of
them, as if it had fpoken to him only, which cauled to
great a fear and reverence in the people, that they thought
they could not live, if the angel continued fpeaking; and
therefore befought it as a grace, that he would speak unto
them by the way of Mofes, left they ſhould die. Nay, Mo-
Jes himself accustomed to fee and work itupendous won-
ders, and being of a great and generous fpirit, confeffed
his fear, faying (y), as we have it from St. Paul, That be
was terrified and trembled.
Let a man now confider how memorable was that day
unto the Hebrew nation, wherein they faw fuch vifions,
heard fuch thunders, and felt fuch earth-quakes, as it is no
wonder that the great fear which fell upon them in that day
of prodigies, made them think they could not live: Yet
was all this nothing in reſpect of the terror of that great day
wherein the Lord of angels is to demand an account of the
violation of the law. For after the fending far greater
plagues than thofe of Egypt, after burning in that deluge
of fire the finners of the world, the faints remaining ſtill
alive, that that article of our faith may be literally fulfilled,
From thence be fall come to judge, the quick and the dead,
The heavens ſhall open, and over the valley of Fofaphat,
the redeemer of the world, attended by all the angels of
Heaven, in vifible forms of admirable fplendor, fhall with a
divine majeſty deſcend to judge it. Before the judge ſhall
be borne his ftandard, which St. Chryfoftome (z), and di-
vers other doctors affirm, ſhall be the very Croſs on which
he fuffered. Then fhall the juft (fuch being the force and
vigour of their ſpirits, as will elevate their terrene and heavy
bodies) meet (as the apoftie fays) their redeemer in the air,
who at his iffuing forth of the heavens, fhall with a voice,
audible to all the world, pronounce this his commandment :
Arife ye dead, and come unto Judgment: Which fhall be pro-
claimed by four angels in the four quarters of the world,,
with fuch vehemence, that the found thall pierce unto the
internal region, from whence the fouls of the damned ſhall
iffue forth, and re-enter their bodies, which ſhall from thence
forward, fuffer the terrible torments of Hell. The fouls alfo
of those, who died only in original fin, fhall come and pof-
fefs
(y) Heb. 12.
(z) Chryf. Tom. 3. Serm. de Cruce,
CAP. IX.
181
the Temporal and Eternal.
fefs again their bodies, free from pain or torment; and the
fouls of the bleffed, filling their bodies with the four gifts
of glory, ſhall make them more refplendent than the fun:
and with the gift of agility ſhall join themfelves with thoſe
juft, who remain alive in the air in their paffible bodies,
which being yet mortal, and therefore not able to endure
thoſe vehement affections of the heart, of joy, defire, reve-
ence, love and admiration of Chrift, fhall then die, and in
that instant behold the divine effence; after which their
fouls fhall be again immediately united to their bodies, be-
fore they can be corrupted, or fo much as fall unto the
ground, and thence forward continue glorious; for in the
moment wherein they die, they fhall be purified from thofe
noxious humours and qualities, wherewith our bodies are
now infected. And therefore it was convenient they ſhould
first die, that being fo cleanfed from all filth, they might by
the reftitution of their bleffed fouls, receive the gifts of glo-
ry. Confidering then the fo different conditions of the fouls
men, who can exprefs the joy of thoſe happy fouls, when
they fhall take poffeffion of their now glorious and beauti-
ful bodies, which were long fince eaten by worms or wild
beafts, fome four, fome five thousand years ago, turned in-
to duſt and aſhes? What thanks fhall they give unto God,
who after fo long a feparation, hath reſtored them to their
antient companions? What gratulations fhall the fouls of
them, who lived in aufterity and penance, give unto their
own bodies, for the mortifications and rigours which they
have fuffered, for the hair-fhirts, difciplines, and fats, which
they have obſerved? To the contrary, the ſouls of the
damned, how fhall they rage, and curfe their own flesh,
fince to pleaſe and pamper it, hath been the occafion of
their torments, and eternal unhappiness? Which mifetable
wretches, wanting the gift of agility, and fo not able of
themſelves to go unto the place of justice, fhall be hurried
against their wills by Devils, all trembling and full of fear.
.§. 2.
The reprobates being then in the valley of fofaphat, and
the predeftinate in the air, the judge fhall appear above
Mount Olivet, unto whom the clouds fhall ferve as a chari-
et, and his most glorious body ſhall calt forth rays of fuch
incomparable ſplendor, as the fun fhall appear but as a coal;
for
1182
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
for even the predeftinate ſhall ſhine as the fun, but the light
and brightnefs of Chrift, fhall as far exceed them, as the
fun does the leaft ftar. Which most admirable fight ball
be yet more glorious, by thofe thouſand millions of excel-
lent and heavenly fpirits which ſhall attend him, who hav-
ing formed themfelves as real bodies, of more or lefs fplen
dor, according to their hierarchy and order, fhall fill the
whole ſpace betwixt heaven and earth, with unspeakable
beauty and variety. The Saviour of the world ſhall fit upon
a throne of great majesty, made of a clear and beautiful
cloud, his countenance ſhall be most mild and peaceable to-
wards the good, and, though the fame moſt terrible unto the
bad. In the like manner out of his facred wounds, ſhall
iffue beams of light towards the juft, full of love and fweet-
nefs, but unto finners, full of fire and wrath, who fhall weep
bitterly for the evils which iffue from them (a). So great
fhall be the majesty of Chrift, that the miferable damned,
and the devils themſelves, notwithstanding all the hate they
bear him, fhall yet proftrate themſelves and adore him, and
to their greater confufion, acknowledge him for their Lord
and God: And thofe who have moft blafphemed and out-
raged him, fhall then bow before him, fulfilling the promiſes.
of the eternal Father, That all things fhould be fubje&t unto
him, that he would make his enemies his foot-ftool, and that
all knees ſhould bend before him. Here fhall the Jews to
their greater confufion behold him, whom they have crucifi-
ed: and here fhall the evil chriftians fee him, whom they
have again crucified with their fins; here alfo fhall the fin-
ners behold him in glory, whom they have defpifed for the
baſe trifles of the earth. What an amazement will it be to
fee him king of ſo great majeſty, who fuffered fo much ig-
nominy upon the Crofs, and even from thoſe whom he re-
deemed with his moft precious blood? What will they then
fay, who in fcorn crowned the facred temples of the Lord
with thorns, put a reed in his hand for a fceptre, cloathed
him in fome old and broken garment of purple, buffetted and
ſpit upon his bleffed face? And what will they then fay, un-
to whoſe conſciences, Chrift hath fo often propoſed himſelf
in all his bitter paffion and painful death, and hath wrought
nothing upon them, but a continuance of greater fins, valu-
ing his precious blood fhed for their falvation, no more than
if it were the blood of a Tyger, or their greatest enemy? I
know
i
(a) Pfa. 109. 1 Cor. 15. Phil. 2.
CAP. IX.
183
the Temporal and Eternal.
know not how the memory of this doth not burſt our hearts
with compunction. Let us take the counfel of a holy father
in the defert (b), who when one aſked him, what he ſhould.
do to foften and mollify his ftony heart, answered, That he
ſhould remember, that he was to appear before the Lord.
who was to judge him; whofe fight, as another holy monk
faid, would be fo terrible unto the wicked, that if it were
poffible that fouls could die, the whole world at the coming
of the Son of God, would be ftruck dead with fear and
terror.
At the fide of the throne of Chrift, fhall be placed another
throne of great glory for his most holy Mother, not then to
intercede for finners, but for the great confuſion of thoſe
who, when time ferved, have not addreffed themfelves unto
her, nor reaped the benefit of her protection: that he may
be honoured in the fight of the whole world. There fhall
be alfo other thrones for the apostles, and thoſe faints, who
poor in ſpirit, have left all for Chrift; who fitting now as
judges with their redeemer, and condemning by their good:
example, the fcandalous lives of finners, fhall approve the
fentence of the fupreme judge, and declare his great juftice
before the world, with which the wicked fhall remain con-
founded and amazed: and it fhall then be fulfilled, which
fo many years fince was prophefied by the wife-man (c):
"The wicked beholding the juft, who were deſpiſed in-
"this life, to be ſo much honoured, ſhall be troubled with
"horrible fear, and fhall wonder at their unexpected falva-
"tion, faying amongst themſelves with great refentment,
"and much grief and anguish of fpirit: Theſe are they,.
"who ſometime were unto us matter of fcorn and laughter.
"We fools imagined their life to be madneſs, and that their
"end would be without honour; but behold they are
"counted amongst the children of God, and their lot is
amongſt the faints. We erred and wandered from the
ways of truth, and the light of justice was not with us,
nor did the fun of justice thine upon us. We wearied
"ourſelves in the ways of wickedness and perdition, and
"walked in paths of difficulty, and knew not the way of
"the Lord, What hath our pride profited us? and what
"hath the pomp of our riches availed us? all thoſe things
"have paffed like a fhadow, or like a meffenger who paffes
"in halte, or like a fhip which cuts the unftable waves, and
" leaves
،،
(b) In vit. P R
(c) Sap. 5.
i
184
The Difference betwixt
2
L. I B. II.
"leaves no track where it went, and are now confumed in
66 our wickedneſs." The tyrants who have afflicted and
put to death the holy Martyrs, what will they now fay, when
they fhall fee them in this glory? Thofe who trampled un-
der foot, the juftice and right of the poor of Chrift, what
will they do, when they ſhall behold them their judges?
And what will the wicked judges do or fay, when they ſhall
fee themselves condemned for their unjust fentences, fulfil-
ling that which was faid by Solomon (d); " I ſaw a great
"evil beneath the fun, that in the throne of judgment, was
"I
feated impiety and wickednefs, in the place of justice:
" and I ſaid in my heart, God fhall judge the good and
❝evil, and then ſhall be ſeen who every one is ?" Here in
this life the juſt and finner, have not always the place which
they deſerve; many times the wicked takes the right hand,
and the holy the left. Chrift fhall then rectify all thofe
grievances, and fhall feparate the wheat from the tares: The
good he fhall place upon his right-hand, elevated in the air,
that all the world may honour them as holy: And the wick-
ed ſhall ſtand far at his left, remaining upon the earth to
their own confufion and the fcorn of all. How ſhall the
finners envy the juft, when they fhall fee them ſo much ho-
noured, and themselves fo much defpifed? How confound-
ed ſhall be the kings of the earth, when they fhall behold
their vaſſals in glory, and lords when they ſhall ſee their
flaves amongst the angels, and themfelves in equal rank
with devils? For it feems the devils then ſhall affume bodies
of air, that they may be fenfibly feen by the wicked, and
ſhall ſtand amongst them, for their greater affront and tor-
ment.
§. 3.
Immediately the books of all mens confciences fhall be
opened, and their fins published to the whole world; The
moſt ſecret fins of their hearts, and thofe filthy acts which
were committed in private; Thofe fins which through fhame
and baſhfulneſs were concealed in confeffion, or covered
with excuſes, crooked and finifter intentions, hidden and
unknown treacheries, counterfeit and diffembling virtues,
all fhall then be manifefted; feigned friends, adulterous
wives, unfaithful ſervants, falſe witneffes, fhall all to their
(d) Eccl. 3 & 10.
great
CAP. IX.
185
the Temporal and Eternal.
great ſhame and confufion be then diſcovered. If we are
now fo fenfible when people murmur at us, or that fome in-
famous act of ours, is known to one or two perfons, how
fhall we be then troubled, when all our faults together are
made known unto all, both men and angels? How many
are there now, who if they imagined that their father or
brother knew what they had committed in fecret, would die
with grief? And yet in that day not only fathers and bro-
thers, but friends and enemies, and all the world ſhall to
their confuſion know it. The virtuous actions of the juft,
how fecretly ſoever performed, their holy thoughts, their
pious defires, their pure intentions, their good works, which
the world now either dif-eſteems, or calumniates as mad-
neſs, ſhall then be manifeſted, and they for them ſhall be
honoured by the whole world; virtue fhall then appear ad-
mirable in all her beauty, and vice horrible in all her defor
mity. It fhall then be feen how decent and beautiful it is
for the great to humble themſelves, for the offended to be
filent, and pardon injuries: on the other fide, how infolent
and horrid a thing it is to trample upon the poor, to wrong
the humble, to defire revenge, and lord it over others. Then
ſhall be alſo difcovered, the good works of the wicked, but
for their greater affront, in that they have not perfevered in
doing well: and that calling to remembrance the good coun-
fel and advice, which they have given unto others, which
hath been a means of their falvation, they may be now con-
founded to have neglected it themselves, to their own dam-
nation. The fins alſo of the juſt ſhall be publiſhed, but with
all their repentance, and the good which they have drawn
from their faults, in fuch fort as it fhall no ways redound to
their fhame, but be an argument of rendering thanks, and
divine praiſes to the Lord, who was pleafed to pardon them.
But nothing ball be of greater defpite and confufion unto
finners, than to behold thofe, who have committed equal
and greater fins than themſelves, to be then in glory, be-
cause they made ufe of the time of repentance, which they
defp.fed and neglected. This confufion fhall be augmented
by that inward charge, which God ſhall lay against them of
his divine benefits, unto which their angel-guardians fhall
affift, by giving teftimony how often they have diffuaded
them from their evil courfes, and how rebellious and refrac-
tory they have flill been to their holy infpirations. The faints
alfo fhall accufe them, that they have laughed at their good
counfels
A a
186
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
counfels, and fhall fet forth the dangers, whereunto they
themſelves have been fubject by their ill example.
The juft judge fhall then immediately pronounce fentence
in favour of the good, in thefe words of love and mercy.
(e) Came you bleffed of my Father, toffels the Kingdom which
was prepared for you, from the creation of the world. O
what joy fhall then fill the faints, and what fpight and en-
vy ſhall burst the hearts of finners! but more when they
ſhall hear the contrary fentence pronounced against them-
ſelves: Chriſt ſpeaking unto them with that feverity, which
was fignified by the prophet Ifaiah, when he faid, His lips
were filled with indignation, and his tongue was a devouring
fire. More terrible than fire fhall be thoſe words of the Son
of God, unto thofe miferable wretches, when they fhall
hear him fay, Depart from me, ye curfed into eternal fire,
prepared for Sutan and bis Angels. With this fentence
they fhall remain for ever overthrown, and covered with
eternal forrow and confufion. Ananias and Saphira were
ftruck dead, only with the hearing the angry voice of St.
Peter; What fhall the reprobate be in hearing the incenfed
voice of Chrift? This may appear by what happened unto
St. Catharine of Sienna (f), who being reprehended by St.
Paul, who appeared unto her, only becaufe fhe did not bet-
ter employ fome little parcel of time, faid, that ſhe had ra-
ther be difgraced before the whole world, than once more to
fuffer what she did by that reprehenfion. But what is this in
reſpect of that reprehenfion of the Son of God, in the day of
vengeance? for if when he was led himself to be judged, he
with two only words, I am, overthrew the aſtoniſhed multi-
tude of foldiers to the ground, how ſhall he fpeak when he
comes to judge? In the book of the lives of the Fathers,
compofed by Severus Sulpitius and Caffianus (g), it is written
of a certain young man defirous to become a Monk, whom
his mother by many reafons, which fhe alledged, pretended
to diffuade, but all in vain, for he would by no means alter
his intention, defending himfelf still from her importunity
with this answer, I will fave my faul, I will affure my fal-
vation; it is that which most imports me. She perceiving
that her modeſt requeſts prevailed nothing, gave him leave.
to do as he pleaſed: and he according to his refolution, en-
tered
:
(e) Abul. in Mat. Janfen. Sot. Lef. 1. 1 3. c. 22. & alii.
(f) In vita ejus c. 24.
(g) In vita PP. 1. 5. apud Roful,
CA P. IX.
187
the Temporal and Eternal.
tered into religion; but foon began to flag and fall from his
fervour, and to live with much carele ffness and negligence.
Not long after his mother died, and he himſelf fell into a
grievous infirmity, and being one day in a trance, was wrapt
in fpirit before the judgment-feat of God. He there found
his mother, and divers others, expecting his condemnation;
She turning her eyes, and feeing her ſon amongſt thoſe who
were to be damned, feemed to remain astonished, and ſpake
unto him in this manner: Why, how now fon; is all come
to end in this? where are thofe words thou faid'ft unto me,
I will fave my foul? was it for this thou didst enter into re-
ligion? The poor man being confounded and amazed,
knew not what to anſwer; but ſoon after, when he returned
unto himſelf, and the Lord was pleaſed that he recovered
and escaped his infirmity, and confidering that this was a
divine admonition, he gave fo great a turn, that the rest of
his life was wholly tears and repentance; and 'when many
wiſhed him, that he would moderate and remit fomething of
that rigour, which might be prejudicial unto his health, he
would not admit of their advices, but still anfwered, I who
could not endure the reprehenfion of my mother, how fhall
I in the day of judgment, endure that of Chrift and his an-
gels? Let us often think of this, and let not only the angry
voice of our Saviour make us tremble, but that terrible fen-
tence, which ſhall ſeparate the wicked from his prefence.
Raphael Columba (h) writes of Philip the fecond, king of
Spain, that being at mafs, he heard two of his Grandees,
who were near him, in diſcourſe about fome worldly bufi-
nefs, which he then took no notice of, but mafs being end-
ed, he called them with great gravity, and faid unto them
only theſe few words, You two appear no more in my preſence:
which were of that weight, that the one of them died of
grief, and the other ever after remained ſtupified and ama-
zed. What fhall it then be, to hear the king of heaven and
earth fay; Depart ye curfed? and if the words of the Son
of God be fo much to be feared, what fhall be his works of
justice?
At that inflant the fire of that general burning, fhall in-
veſt thoſe miſerable creatures (i); the earth fhall open, and
hell ſhall enlarge his throat, to fwallow them for all eternity,
accomplishing the malediction of Chrift, and of the Pfalm (k)
(h) Raph. Columb, Ser. 2. | (i) Leſſ. I. 13. c. 23.
Domin in Quad.
(k) Pfal. 54.
which
188
LIB. II.
The Difference betwixt
}
1
which faith, Let death come upon them, and let them fink
alive into hell. And in anothet place (1); Coals of fire buil
fall upon tb m, and thou shall caft them into the fire, and they
fball not fubfift in their miferies. And in another Pfalm (m);
Snares, fire, and fulphur, fall rain upon jinners. Finally,
that ſhall be executed, which was fpoken by St. John (n),
That the devil, death, and hell, and all who were not writ~
ten in the book of life, were caft into the lake of fire and
brim-ftone, where they fhall be eternally tormented with
Antichriſt, and his falfe prophets. And this is the fecond
death, bitter and eternal, which comprehends both the fouls
and the bodies of them, who have died the ſpiritual death of
fin, and the corporal death, which is the effect or it. The
juft fhall then rejoicc, according to David (0), beholding
the vengeance, which the divine juftice fhall take upon fin-
ners, and fing another fong, like that of Mofes (p), when
the Egyptians were drowned in the red-fea, and that fong
of the Lamb, related by St. Jahn (q)," Great and marvel-
"lous are thy works, O Lord God, omnipotent juſt and
"righteous are thy ways, king of all eternity; who will
66
not fear thee, O Lord, and magnify thy name?" With
thoſe and a thouſand other fongs of joy and jubilee, they
fhall afcend above the ſtars in a moſt glorious triumph, un-
-til they arrive in the empyreal Heaven, where they ſhall be
placed in thrones of glory, which they fhall enjoy for an
eternity of eternities. In the mean time the earth, which
was polluted for having fuftained the bodies of the damned,
fhall be purified in that general burning; and then ſhall be
renewed the earth, the heavens, the ſtars, and the fun, which
ſhall ſhine ſeven times more than before; and the creatures,
which have here heen violated and oppreffed by the abuſe of
man, (whereof ſome had taken arms against him, to revenge
the injuries of their Crea or, and others groaned under their
burthen with grief and forrow) fhall then rejoice to fee them-
felves freed from the tyranny of fin and finners, and joytul
of the triumph of Chrift, fhall put on mirth and gladneis.
This is the end, wherein all time is to determine, and
this the catastrophe, fo tearful unto the wicked, where all
things temporal are to conclude. Let us therefore take heed.
how we use them; and that we may use them well, let us
(1) Pfal. 139.
(m) Pfal. io.
(0) Pfal. 57.
(p) Exod. 15.
(n) Apoc. 20.
(4) Apoc. 15.
be
CAP. IX.
189
the Temporal and Eternal.
be mindful of this laft day, this day of juftice and calamity,
this day of terror and amazement; the memory whereof
will ſerve much for the reformation of our lives. Let us
think of it and fear it, for it is the most terrible of all things
terrible, and the confideration of it moft profitable and avail-
able, to cauſe in us a holy fear of God, and to convert us
unto him. John Curopolata writes of Bogeris, king of the
Bulgarians a Pagan, who was fo much addicted to the hunt-
ing of wild beasts, that he defired to have them painted in
his palace, in all their fury and fiercenefs: and to that end,
commanded Methodius the Monk, a fkilful painter, to paint
them in fo horrible a manner, as the very fight might make
the beholders tremble. The diſcreet Monk did it not, but
in the place of it painted the day of judgment, and prefented
it unto the king, who beholding that terrible a& of juſtice,
and the coming of the Son of God, to judge the world,
crowning and rewarding the juft, and punishing the wicked,
was much aſtoniſhed at it; and being after inftructed, left
his bad life, and was converted to the faith of Chrift. If
only then the day of judgment painted, was fo terrible, what
fhall it be being executed? Almoſt the fame happened unto
St. Dofitbeus, who being a young man, cokored and brought
up in pleaſures, had not in his whole life, fo much as heard
of the day of judgment, until by chance he beheld a pic-
ture, in which were reprefented the pains of the damned, at
which he was much amazed, and not knowing what it was,
was informed of it by a matron prefent, which he apprehend-
ed fo deeply, that he fell half dead upon the ground, not
being able to breathe for fear and terror: after coming to him-
felf, he demanded what he ſhould do, to avoid that miſerable
condition; it was anfwered him by the fame matron, that he
ſhould faft, pray, and abstain from fleſh, which he immedi
ately put in execution; And though many of his houſe and
kindred endeavoured to divert and diffuade him, yet the
holy fear of God, and the dread of eternal condemnation,
which he might incur, remained ſo fixed in his memory,
that nothing could withdraw him from his rigorous penance
and holy refolution, until becoming a Monk, he continued
with much fruit and profit. Let us therefore whilst we live,
ever preſerve in our memory this day of terror, that we may
hereafter enjoy ſecurity, for the whole eternity of God.
•
THE
}
ॐ
ॐ
THE THIRD BOOK
OF THE
DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL and ETERNAL.
CAP. I.
The Mutability of things Temporal, makes them worthy of
H
Contempt.
ITHERTO we have fpoken of the fhortnefs of
time, and confequently of all things temporal, and
of the end wherein they are to conclude. Nothing
is exempted from death, and therefore not only humane
life, but all things which follow time, and even time itſelf
at laſt muſt die. Wherefore Hefichius, as he is tranflated
by St. Fobn Damafcen (r), faith, That the fplendor of this
world, is but as withered leaves, bubbles of water, fmoke,
ſtubble, a fhadow, and duft driven by the wind: all things
that are of earth, being to end in earth. But this is not
all; for befides the certainty of end, they are infected with
another miſchief, which renders them much more contempt-
ible than that, which is their inftability, and continual
changes, whereunto they are fubject even whilft they are.
For as time itſelf, is in a perpetual fucceffion and mutation,
as being the brother and infeparable companion of motion,
(r) Damaf. in Par. 1, 1.
fo
CAP. I.
191
the Temporal and Eternal.
fo it fixes this ill condition unto moſt of thoſe things which
pafs along in it, which not only have an end, and that a
fhort one, but even during that fhortness of time, which
they laſt, have a thouſand changes, and before their end,
many ends, and before their death, many deaths, each par-
ticular change which our life fuffers, being the death of fome
eftate or part of it. For as death is the total change of life,
fo every change is the death of fome part. Sickness is the
death of health, fleeping of waking, forrow of joy, impati-
ence of quiet, youth of infancy, and age of youth. The fame
condition hath the univerſal world, and all things in it; for
which cauſe they deferve fo much contempt, that Marcus
Aurelius (s) the emperor wondered, that there could be found
a man fo fenfeleſs, as to value them; and therefore fpeaks in
this manner: "Of that very thing, which is now in do-
"ing, fome part is already vanished: changes and alterati-
"<
ons continually innovate the world, as that immenfe ſpace
"of time by a perpetual flux renews itself. Who therefore
"fhall efteem thofe things which never fubfift, but paſs a-
long in this headlong, and precipitate river of time, is as
"he who fets his affection upon fome little bird, which paſ-
❝fes along in the air, and is no more feen." Thus much
from this philofopher. This very caufe of the little value
of things temporal, proceeding from their perpetual changes,
together with the end whereunto they are fubject, is at St.
Gregory (t) notes, fignified unto us by that woman in the
Apocalyps, who had the moon under her feet, and her head
adorned with twelve ſtars. Certainly the moon, as well as
the ſtars, might have been placed in her diadem: but it was
trod under foot, by reafon of the continual changes and al-
terations which it fuffers, whereby it becomes a figure of
things temporal, which change not only every month, but
every day; the fame day being, as Euripides fays, now a
mother, then a ſtep mother. The fame was alſo fignified
by the angel, who crowned with a rain-bow, defcended from
heaven, to proclaim that all time was to end; with his right
foot, which preffes and treads more firmly, he ftood upon
the fea, which by reafon of its great unquietnefs, is alfo a
figure of the inftability of this world. And therefore with
much reafon did the angel, who had taught us by his voice,
that all time and temporal things were to have an end, fhew
s) Aur. Anton. 1.6. de vita fua.
(t) Greg. 1. 34. moral.
us
192
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
3
us alfo by this fign, that for their inftability and inconftan
cy, they were even before their end, to be trodden under foot
and defpifed. But more lively is the fame expreffed by the
ſame St. John (u), when he beheld the faints ftanding upon
the fea, to note that whilft they lived, they contemned and
trampled under foot, the tranfitory and fading things of this
world; and to declare it more fully, he fays, the fea was of
glafs, than which nothing is more frail, and although hard,
yet brittle.
Needs muſt the inftability of things temporal be very
great, and therefore moſt deſpicable, becauſe it proceeds
from ſo many caufes. For as the fea hath two feveral kinds
of motion, the first natural, by which it rifeth and falleth
daily with continual ebbs and flows, fo as the waves, when
they are most quiet, are yet ftill moving and inconftant: the
other violent, when the waters are raiſed and incented by
fome furious tempeft; in the fame manner the things of
this world, are naturally of themſelves fading and tranſitory,
and without any exterior violence, fuffer a continual change.
and run rowling on towards their end; but befides are alſo
fubject to other unthought of accidents, and extraordinary
violences, which force nature out of her courſe, and raiſe
huge ſtorms in the fea of this life, by which thoſe things,
which we moſt efteem, fuffer ſhip-wreck. For as the fairest
flower withers of itſelf, yet is often times before born away
by the wind, or perifhes by fome ftorm of hail; the moſt
exact beauties lofe their luftre by age, but are often before
blafted by fome violent fever; the most coftly garments
wear out in time, if before not taken from us by the thief;
the ſtrongeſt and moſt ſumptuous palaces decay with conti-
nuance, if before not ruined by fire or earth-quakes: In like
manner both their own nature and extrinfical violences, de-
prive temporal things even of time itſelf, and trail them
along in perpetual changes, leaving nothing ftable. Let
us caſt our eyes upon thoſe things, which men judge moſt
worthy to endure, and made them to the end they ſhould be
eternal. How many changes and deaths have they fuffered?
St. Gregory Nazienzen (x), places the city of Thebes in
Egypt, as the chiefeft of thofe wonders, which the world
admired. Moſt of the houſes were of alabaſter marble,
Spotted with drops of gold, which made them appear moſt
fplendid
(u) Apoc. 15. Ribera & Cornep.
(x) Nazian. in Monod. Pli. I. 36. c. 8.
CAP. I.
193
the Temporal and Eternal.
1
fplendid and magnificent: Upon the walls were many plea-
fant gardens, which they called Horti penfiles, or hanging
gardens; and the gates were no leſs than a hundred, out of
which the prince could draw forth numerous armies, with-
out noife or knowledge of the people. Pomponius Mela (y)
writes, that out of every port there iffued 10000 armed
men, which in the whole, came to be an army of a million.
Yet all this huge multitude could not fecure it from a ſmall
army, conducted by a youth, who, as St. Jerome writes,
took and deſtroyed it. Marcus Polus writes, that he paffed
by the city of Qinfay, which contained four-ſcore millions
of fouls and Nicholas de Conti, paffing not many years
after by the fame way, found the city wholly deſtroyed and
begun to be newly built after another form. But yet greater
than this was the city of Nineve, which according to the ho-
ly fcripture was of three days journey; and it is now many
ages fince, that we know not where it flood. No leſs ſtately,
but perhaps better fortified was the city of Babylon; and that
which was the imperial city of the world, became a defart,
and a habitation of harpies, onocentaurs, fatyrs, monſters,
and devils, as was fore-told by the prophets: and the walls
which were 200 foot in height, and 50 in breadth, could
not defend it from time. And yet the holy fcripture defcribes
Ecbatana, the chief city of Media to be more strong than
that. It was built by Arphazad, king of Medes, of ſquare
ftone: the walls contained feventy cubits in breadth, thirty
cubits in height, and the towers, which encompaffed it,
were each in height a hundred cubits; and yet for all this
could not the Median empire, having fuch a head, eſcape
from rendering itſelf unto the Affyrians. And the fame mo-
narch, who built it, and made the world to trenible under
him, came to lofe it and himſelf, and having couquered
many nations, became at laſt conquered and a flave unto
his enemies.
:
It is not much that cities have fuffered fo many changes,
fince monarchies and empires have done the fame and fo
often hath the world changed her face, as fhe hath changed
her monarch and maſter. He who had ſeen the world as it
was in the time of the Affyrians, would not have known it
as
(y) Pompon. Mela 1. 1. c. 9. Sur. in Comm. an 1517. Evag.
1. 2. c. 1. Eufeb. de præpar. Hieron. in Dan, c. 1. Polus 1. 2. re-
rum Indic. c. 68. Nicol. de Com. in itin. apud Ram, tom. 1. Plin.
1.6. c. 26. Sol, c. 3.
B b
194
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
as it was in the time of the Perfians; and he who knew it
in the time of the Perfians, would not have judged it for the
fame when the Greeks were masters. After in the time of
the Romans, it appeared with a face not known before and
he who knew it then would not know it now; and fome
years hence it will put on another form, being in nothing
more like itſelf than in its perpetual changes and alterations,
for which cauſe it hath been ever worthy of corn and con-
tempt, and more now than ever, fince it becomes every day
worſe, and grows old, and decays with age, as St. Cyprian
(z) notes in thofe words. "Thou art to know, that the
"world is already grown old, and doth not remain in that
ſtrength and vigour which it had at firft. This the world
"itſelf tells us, and the daily declining of it into worſe,
"needs no other testimony. The winter wants the uſual
"rains to fertilize the earth; the fummer the accuſtomed
"heat to ripen the corn; the autumn is not loaden as here-
"tofore with fruits, nor the fpring glads us with the delight
"and pleaſure of its fweet temperature; out of the hollow-
"ed mountains are drawn lefs pieces of marble; and the
"exhauſted mines yield lefs quantities of gold and filver.
"The labourer is wanting in the fields, the mariners in the
"feas, the foldier in the tents, innocency in the market
places, juftice in the tribunals, fincerity in friendſhip, ſkill
"in arts, and diſcipline in manners. Neceffary it is, that
that should decay, which thus daily finks into itfelf, and
"approaches towards an end. Immediately he adds, This
"is the doom of the world, this the ordinance of God; all
"that is born muft die; all that inceafes muſt grow old,
"the ſtrong become feeble, the great diminish, and when
"diminiſhed perish. Anciently our lives extended beyond
❝800 or 900 years: now few arrive unto an hundred. We
"fee boys grown gray, and our age ends not in decrepit
years, but then begins: and in our very birth, we draw
near our ends, and he who is now born, with the age of
"the world degenerates. Let no man therefore marvel
"that the parts of the world decay, fince the whole goes to
66
ruin." Neither is the world only grown worſe in the
natural frame of it, but is alſo much defaced in the moral;
the manners of men have altered it more, than the violences
and encounters of the elements. The empire of the Affyri-
and much corrupted the primitive fimplicity and innocence
ANL
(z) Cyp. in Epift. ad Demet.
of
CAP. I.
195
the Temporal and Eternal.
of it; and what they wanted was effected by the Perfians;
and wherein they failed, by the Greeks; and wherein they,
by the Romans, and wherein they, is abundantly made up
by us; for the pride of monarchs is the ruin and deſtruction
of good manners. And therefore unto the four monarchies,
may be fitly applied that which was fore told by the prophet
Joel, "What was left by the eruck, was eaten by the lo-
cuit, what was left by the locust, was eaten by the bruke,
"and what was left by the bruke, was devoured by the
"blaſt."
§. 2.
More are the cauſes of alterations in the world than in
the ocean. For befides the condition of humane things,
which as well intrinfically, and of their own nature, as by
the external violences which they fuffer, are fubject to pe-
rish, the very ſpirit and humour of man being fickle and
inconftant, is the occafion of great changes. Not without
great proportion did the Holy Ghoſt fay, That the fool
changed like the moon, which is not only mutable in figure
but in colour. The natural philofophers obferve three co-
lours in the moon, pale, red, and white; the first fore-fhews
rain, the ſecond wind, and the third clears up with hopes
of fair weather, In the fame manner is the heart of man
changed by three moft violent affections, reprefented by
thoſe three colours. That of pale, the colour of gold, co-
veting riches more frail and flippery than waters; That of
red, the colour of purple, gaping after the wind of vain ho-
nours; The last of white, the colour of mirth and jollity,
running after the gufts and pleaſures of this life. With theſe
three affections, man is in perpetual change and motion;
and as there are fome plants which follow the courſe of the
moon, ftill turning and moving according to her courfe, fo
theſe alterations in humane affections draws after them, and
are the cauſe of theſe great changes and revolutions, which
happen in the world. How many kingdoms were overthrown
by the covetousness of Cyrus? The ambition of Alexander
did not only deſtroy a great part of the world, but made it
put on a clear other face than it had before. What part of
Troy was left ftanding by the lafcivious love of Paris, who
was not only the ruin of Greece, but fet on fire his own
country? That which time fpares, is often fnatched away
by
196
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
by the covetousness of the thief; and how many lives are
cut off by revenge, before they arrive unto old age? There
is no doubt but humane affections are thoſe fierce winds,
which trouble the fea of this world: and as the ocean ebbs
and flows according to the courſe of the moon, fo the things
of this life conform their motions unto humane paffions.
There is no ſtability in any thing, and leaft in man, who is
not only changeable in himself, but changes all things be-
fides.
So unſtable and variable is man, that David unto ſome of
his Pfalms gives thefe words for a title, For thoſe who ſhall
change; and St. Bafil explicating the fame title, faith, It
was meant of man whofe life is a perpetual change; unto
which is conformable the tranflation of Aquila, who instead
of thoſe words renders it, Pro foliis, For the leaves: be-
caufe man is moved by every wind as the leaves of a tree.
This mutability is very apparent in the paffion of Chriſt
our redeemer, which is the fubje&t of the 78th Pfalm, which
beareth this title: They of Jerufalem having received him.
with greater honour than they ever gave to man, within
four days after treated him with the greateſt infamy and
villany that was poffible to be expreffed by devils. There
is no truf in the heart of man; now it loves, now it abhors,
now it defires, now fears, now esteems, now delpifes. Who
is not amazed at the change of St. Peter, who after ſo many
promifes and refolutions to die for his mafter, within a few
hours fwore as many talle oaths, that he knew him not?
What ſhall become of the reed and bulruh, when the oak
and cedar totters. Neither is the change of Amnon a little
to be wondered at, who loving Thamer with that violence
of paffion, that he fell fick for her, immediately after abhor-
red her ſo much, that he barbarously turned her out of his
chamber. But I know nothing that can more evidently fet
forth the mutability of humane affections, than that memo-
rable accident which happened in Ephefus (a). There lived
in that city, a Matron of an honeft repute and converfation,
whofe hufband dying, left her the most difconfolate and fad
widow that ever was heard of; all was lamentations, tear-
ing and disfiguring her face and breaſts with her nails: and
not content with the ufual ceremonies of widows of thoſe
times, the encloſed herſelf with his dead body in the fepul-
chre,
(a) Petron. Arbit. tract. de leg. connub. leg. non. num. 97,
CAP. I. the Temporal and Eternal.
197
chre, which anciently was a vault in the fields, capacious
and prepared for that ufe; there the refolved to famifh her-
felt, and follow him into the next world: and had already
for four days abſtained from all manner of fuftenance. It
happened that near that place, a certain malefactor was exe-
cuted, and left his kindred fhould by night fteal away his
body and give it burial, a foldier was appointed to watch it,
who being weary, and remembring that not far off the wi-
dow was enclofed in the fepulchre, refolved for a time to quit
his charge, and try what entertainment he could find with
ber. Whereupon carrying his fupper along with him, he
entered the vault, and at firſt had much ado to perſuade the
grieved widow to take part with him, to forfake her defperate
refolution of famiſhing, and be content to live; but a while
after having prevailed in this, and paffing further with the
fame oratory, he perfuaded her, who had not denied to fhare
with him in his fupper, to afford him the fruition of her per-
fon, which the likewife did. In the mean time whilst the
foldier tranfported with his pleaſure forgot his duty, the
friends of the executed malefactor ſtole away the body: which
being perceived by the foldier, who now fatiate with his dal-
liance, was returned unto his guard, and knowing his of
fence to be no less than capital, he repairs with great fear
and amazement unto his widow, and acquaints her with the
mifchance, who was not flow in providing a remedy: but
taking the dead body of her huſband, which had coft her fo
many tears, adviſed him to hang it upon the gallows, to
fupply the room of the malefa&or.-Such is the inconftancy
of humane hearts, more variable than feems poffible, which
changing in themfelves, draw within their compaſs, the rest
of the things of this world.
Philo (b) confidering and admiring fo great vanity and
change, fpeaks after this manner : "Perhaps thofe things
"which concern the body, are they not dreams? perhaps
"
this momentary beauty, does it not wither even before it
"flouriſh? our health is uncertain, expofed to fo many in-
"firmities: a thouſand griefs happening by divers occafi-
ons abate our ſtrength and forces: the quicknefs and vi-
gour of our fenfes are corrupted by vicious humours.
"Who then can be ignorant of the balenefs of exterior
things? One day often makes an end of great riches:
many perfonages of great honour and efteem changing
CC
(b) Philo. 1. de Jof.
❝ their
198
The Difference betwixt
LIB. III.
"their fortune, become infamous: great empires and king-
"doms have in a fhort time been ruined. Of this Diony-
6c
frus is a fufficient witneſs, who thruſt from his throne.
"from a king of Sicily, became a fchool-mafter in Corinth,
"and taught boys. The like happened unto Crafus the
"moft rich king of Lydia, who being in hope to overthrow
the Perfians, not only loft his own kingdom, but fell in-
to the power of his enemies, and failed little of being
"burned alive. Particular perfons are not only witneffes
"that all humane things are dreams, but cities, nations,
kingdoms, greeks and barbarians, the isles, and thofe
"who inhabit the continent of Europe, Afia, the East and
Weft, nothing remains like unto itſelf." Certainly, as
Philo fays, the inftability of humane things makes them ap-
pear not only a dream, but as a dream of a fhadow, rather
than of any thing folid and confiftent. Let us hear alfo
what St. Chryfoftom (c) fays, and counfels us concerning the
fame matter. "All things prefent (faith he) are more frail
"and weak, than the webs of ſpiders, and more deceitful
"than dreams: for as well the goods as evils, have their
"end. Since therefore we eſteem things preſent but as a
❝ dream, and we ourſelves to be but as in an inn, from
"whence we are fuddenly to depart, let us take care for
"our journey, and furnish ourſelves with proviſion, and a
"Viaticum for eternity; let us cloath ourſelves with fuch
"garments, as we may carry along with us. For as no man
can lay hold on his ſhadow, fo no man retains things hu-
"mane, which partly in death, and partly before death fly
"from us, and run more ſwiftly than a rapid river. To the
contrary are thoſe things which are to come, which nei-
❝ther ſuffer age, nor change, nor are ſubject to revolutions,
"but perpetually flourish, and perfevere in a continued feli-
city. Take heed then of admiring thofe riches, which
"remain not with their masters, but change in every in-
"ftant, and leap from one to another, and from this to that.
"It behoves thee to defpife all thofe things, and to eſteem
"them as nothing." Let it fuffice to hear what the apoſtle
fays; The things that are feen, are temporal, but thofe which
are not feen, are eternal. Things humane, difappear more
fuddenly than a fhadow.
(c) Hom, de pœnit.
CAP.
CA P. II.
199
the Temporal and Eternal.
CA P. II.
How great and defperate foever our Temporal evils are, yet
bope may make them tolerable.
FR
ROM this inconſtancy of humane things, we may ex-
tract a conftancy for ourselves: First, by defpifing
things fo frail and tranfitory, which, as we have already ſaid,
is a fufficient ground for their contempt; Secondly, by a
refolute hope and expectation of an end or change, in our
adverfity and afflictions, fince nothing here below is conftant
but all mutable and unſtable and as things fometimes
change from good to evil, fo they may alfo from evil unto
good. And as great profperity hath often been the occafion
of greater miſery, fo we may hope our greatest misfortunes
may produce a greater happineſs. Wherefore as in eternal
evils, becauſe immutable, we want the hope of a happy con-
dition, fo in temporal evils, how great foever, we ought not
to defpair, which we daily fee confirmed with most unexpec-
ted fucceffes. Let us therefore only fear eternal evils, which
are not capable of remedy, and let us not defpair, and afflict
ourſelves for the temporal, which hath it, and imports little,
whether it have it or no. This is not ill expreffed, by that
which happened unto the Roman Appius, who being pro-
fcribed and condemned to banishment, became by the treach-
ery of his flaves and fervants, in danger of his life, who out
of covetousness, to poffefs themselves of the goods and trea-
fure, which he carried along with him, caft him forth into a
ſmall ſhallop, and failed away with the fhip. But from this
misfortune ſprung his deliverance: For not long after the
ſhip funk, in which his flaves were drowned, and he himſelf
(who had perished, if he had been with them) eſcaped with
this little lofs, and came fafe into Sicily. Ariftomenes being
taken by his enemies, and caft into an obſcure dungeon,
was there at leaſt by famine, and unwholeſomeneſs of the
place, to end his days; but in the midſt of defpair, an un-
expected accident gave him hope of delivery. A Fox by
chance paffing through a little hole under ground, entered
into the dungeon, where he had made his den, which be-
ing
200
LIB. III
The Difference betwixt
ing eſpied by Ariftomenes, he laid faſt hold on him with one
hand, and with the other enlarged the paffage, and voiding
the looſe earth as he went, followed his guide, who at laſt
fafely conducted him into the open field, from whence he
eſcaped in fafety, when his enemies thought he had been
dead. There is no condition of life fo miferable, wherein
we ought to deſpair, nay wherein we may not hope of bet-
tering our fortunes. To how many hath a feeming unlucky
accident, been the occafion of great preferment, and a dif
grace of honours? Diogenes, his being condemned for falfe
money, and held for an infamous perfon, was the occafion
of his receiving refpect and honour from princes, Alexander
the maſter of the world, coming to vifit him. Phalareus
being wounded in his breaft by his enemies, was cured of
an impofthume, held defperate by the phyficians. Galen (d)
writes of a leper, who was cured by drinking a little wine,
wherein a viper was by chance drowned, which the reapers
not being willing to drink themſelves, gave him out of com-
paffion, thinking to kill him quickly, and rid him out of
thofe grievous pains, which he endured; but that which
they thought would be his death, became his life: for the
drinking of the wine, caufed the ſcales and ſcurf of his fleſh
to fall, and restored him to his health. Benivenius (e) tefti.
fies, that he knew a boy that was lame of both feet, in fuch
fort, that he could not go without crutches; but being ſtruck
with the plague, and recovering his health, he remained
found of his feet, and without lameness. The fame author
writes of a certain architect, who had one leg fhorter than
the other, but falling from an high tower, he remained with
one leg as long as the other. Alexander Benedi&us (†) re-
hearſeth, That he knew a blind man, who being wounded
grievouſly in the head, recovered his fight. Rondelejus cer-
tifies, that a mad woman, having her head broken, returned
to her wits. Plutarch writes of one Prometheus, who had
an ugly humour and fwelling in his face, who having ſpent
much money upon furgeons and phyficians to little purpoſe,
was by a wound, which his enemy by chance gave him in
the fame place, perfectly cured, the hurt leaving no blemiſh
or deformity behind it. The injuries done to Jofeph by his
brothers, promoted him to the greateſt honours of the Egyp
tian empire. The heap of miferies, wherein holy Job was
involved,
(d) Galen. 1. de Sim, ca. 11.
(e) Benive. c. 15.
| (f) Alexan. Benedi. lib. 3.
CA P. II. the Temporal and Eternal.
201
!
involved, concluded in a double fortune and felicity. Ja-
cob flying from his country, with no more wealth than a
walking-ſtaff, returned rich and profperous, with a numerous
family.
There is no drooping for unfortunate fucceffes, fince they
often prove the beginning of great felicities; and oftentimes
we may rejoice for thofe evils, for which we have fhed tears.
But that we may more clearly perceive the mutability of
things, and the hope we may entertain (even in the depth
of our calamities) of a better condition, I fhall here recount
the story of Marcus and Barbula (g), two Roman gentle-
men. Marcus who was prætor, followed the party of Brutus,
and being overthrown with his General, in the Philippian
fields, and taken priſoner, feigned himſelf to be of baſe
condition, and fo was bought by Barbula for a flave; who
perceiving in him, notwithstanding his outward appearance,
a deep judgment, great difcretion, and a noble fpirit, began
to fufpe& him to be fomething else than what he feemed;
and calling him afide, requeſted him to reveal who he was,
affuring him, that although he were one of the rebels, he
would not fail to procure his pardon. Marcus fmiling, af
fured him he was no fuch man. and Barbula, to let him ſee
how bootless it was to conceal who he was, told him, he
was refolved to carry him along with him to Rome, where
he was certain to be diſcovered. Marcus anſwered, With
all his heart not doubting but the great change of his ha-
bit and condition, would free him from the knowledge of
any; but he found himſelf deceived; for he was no fooner
arrived at Rome, but waiting upon his mafter, at the door of
one of the confuls, he was known by a Roman citizen, who
immediately diſcovered him in fecret to his patron. Barbula
handled the matter fo difcreetly, that without acquainting his
counterfeit flave, he went to Agrippa, by whoſe means, he
obtained a pardon from Auguftus, who in fhort time, became
fo well fatisfied of Marcus, that he received him amongst his
moſt private friends. Not long after, Barbula following the
ſide of Mark Anthony, was taken in the Actian war, and un-
known, was likewife bought by Marcus amongst other flaves.
But ſo foon as it came to his knowledge, that he was his
ancient maſter, he repaired unto Auguftus, begged his par-
don, and restored him unto his liberty: returning in the
far manner, the favour which he had received. Who fees
Сс
(g) Fulgofius 1.6.
not
202
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
not here thofe fecret channels, by which bleffings are deri-
ved, and fortune changed? Marcus enjoyed the dignity of a
prætor, was fuddenly after a flave, then a friend of Cæfar's,
and a redeemer of his redeemer, arriving at higher prefer-
ments, by his flavery and captivity, than by his birth and
former dignity. Whilft life lafts, there is no mishap without
hope and affli&tion, although we look upon things within
their own limits and natural difpofition, come often home
loaden with profperities. But if we look upon them with
that divine hope, which we ought to have, there is no evil
from whence we may not derive a good. To what greater
freights can one be brought, than to be drawn forth to exe-
cution, and held guilty by the confent of all, as Suſanna was?
but in the very way to juſtice, God raiſed her up a ſalvation,
both of life and honour, converting her unjuft infamy into a
great efteem, and admiration of her virtue. What remedy
for Daniel, when he was thrown into a cave amongst hungry
Lions? but where he expected to be devoured by wild beafs,
he found comfort. The three children, who were caft into
the fiery furnace in Babylon, where there was nothing to be
hoped for but death, found refreshment, life and content.
David, when he was compaffed in by the foldiers of Saul,
deſpaired of ſafety, yet escaped the danger. There is no
evil in this life, which even with the hopes of this life, may
not be affwaged: but with the hopes of the other, who will
not be comforted? Let us therefore only fear eternal evils,
which have neither comfort, hope, nor poffibility of amend-
ment.
*K
Bab
CA P. III.
We ought to confider, what we may come to be.
UT that we may as little prefume upon things favour-
able and ſucceſsful, as deſpair, when they are averſe
and contrary. This excellent inftruction may be drawn
from their inconftancy, which is, Not to confide at all in
humane proſperity: For neither kingdom, empire, papacy,
nor any greatneſs whatſoever, can fecure their owners from
ruin and misfortunes; and every one ought with holy Job,
to
CA P. III. the Temporal and Eternal.
203
to confider what he may come to be. There is no fortune
fo high, unto which may not fucceed a condition as low and
diſaſtrous. Let the great and rich man confider, that all
his wealth and power may fail, and he be driven to beg an
alms. Let the king confider, he may become a mechan.c-
tradeſman. Let the emperor confider, that even in his own
court, he may be dragged forth to juftice, and have dirt
flung in his face, and be publicly executed. Let the Popes
confider, that fome of them have been forced to kifs the feet
of other Popes. Thefe things feem incredible, and mortals
are hardly drawn to believe them. But let no man wonder
at the fuccefs of any, fince not only Kings, Emperors and
Popes have been condemned, but Saints, and fuch, who by
their holiness, have wrought miracles, have fallen, and been
damned in hell-fire. Let us all therefore preſerve ourſelves.
in humility; let us not confide in profperity, nor preſume
upon our virtues, though never fo perfect, fince every man
is fubject to fall into thoſe misfortunes he little thinks of.
Who would imagine, that fo opprobrious affronts could
befall a Roman emperor, as happened to Andronicus in 1285, v
whofe history I fhall here relate to confirm that, which, if
grave authors had not reported, would feem incredible.-.
Nicetas (h) writes, and others bear him witnefs, That this
emperor in the third year of his reign, was laid hold upon
by his own vaffals; a ftrong chain and collar of iron, as if
he had been fome mastiff dog, faftened about his neck: his
hands manacled, and his feet fettered with heavy ſhackles:
the most ordinary fort of people taunting him with bitter
fcoffs, buffetted him upon the face, punched him upon the
body, plucked his beard from his chin, drew him up and
down by the hair of his head, knocked out his teeth, and
for his greater affront, fcourged him on thofe parts, where
they use to whip children. After which they brought him
into the public market place, that all that would, might
abuſe him: and even women buffetted him; which done,
they cut off his right-hand, hurried him into prifon, and
flung him into the common hole, where the moſt notorious
thieves and murtherers were lodged, leaving him nothing
to feed on, or fo much as any to give him a jar of water.
From thence fome few days after they drew him forth,
plucked out one of his eyes, mounted him naked (faving a
little fhort cloak which covered nothing almoft of his body)
upon
(b) Nicetas Chromiat in annal. lib. 2.
204
1. I B. III.
The Difference betwixt
*
upon a lane fcabbed camel, his face backward, holding the
tail in his hand inſtead of a fceptre, and a halter in place
of a diadem. In this equipage they brought him again in-
to the market-place, where the injuries, fcorns, and ignomi-
nies put upon him, by the rafcal multitude are not imagin-
able. Some caft onions and rotten fruit at him, others
pricked him in the fides with fpits, others ftuffed his noftrils.
with filth and dung, others fqueezed upon his head and face
fpunges filled with urine and excrements; fonie flung ftones
and dirt at him, and called him by most opprobrious names,
and there wanted not an impudent baggage, who running
into the kitchen, fetched a pot of fcalding water and threw
it in his face. There was no tapfter, cobler, tinker, or baſe
tradeſman, which found not out fome way or other to af
front him. At last they hung him by the hells betwixt two
pillars, and there left him to die. But then did neither his
own courtiers and houfhold fervants pardon him; one thruſt
his word up to the hilt in his bowels: to others, to prove
which had the fharpeft fword, tried them in his flesh. At
laft the miferabe emperor (although most happy if he were
faved) brought with much ado that arm, which had loſt the
hand, and yet ran with blood, to moiften his dry mouth,
and fo expired. In this manner ended the monarch of the
Eaft: but not yet his ignomy; for during three days after
they ſuffered his dead body to hang upon the gibbet, which
was at laſt taken down more to free the living from horror,
than for compaffion to the dead, whom they buried like a
mad dog. Let every one in this glafs behold and confider,
what the things of this life are. Let him compare Androni-
cus with Andronicus, Andronicus emperor and Auguftus with
Andronicus a prifoner, and publickly executed; behold him
first cloathed in purple, adorned by nations, commanding the
Eaft, his temples encircled with a royal diadem, the imperi-
al fceptre in his hands, and his very fhoes ftudded with ori-
ental unions; then look upon him infulted over by the baſeft
of his people, buffetted by women, and pelted with dirt and
ftones in his imperial city. Who would believe that he,
whom the people thronged to look upon as upon fome God,
when he paffed through the streets of Conftantinople in his
royal chario, covered with plates of burniſhed goid, guard-
ed with excellent captains, and waited on by the princes of
his empire, fhould by thoſe very fame perfons, who fo lately
had taken their oaths of loyalty, and fworn to defend him,
•
be
CA P. III.
205
the Temporal and Eternal.
he ſo traiterously and barbarously handled? Finally, he who
had commanded justice to pafs upon fo many, fhould him-
felf come to be juſtized with greater infamy than any of
them? who could imagine that one fubject, fhould be fo
fuddenly capable of fuch different extremes,,and that fo great
glory fhould conclude in fo much ignominy? This is enough
to make us contemn all temporal goods and humane felicity,
which not only paffes away with time, but often changes
into greater
misfortunes. What eſteem can that merit, which
Alands expoſed to fo much mifery: which is by fo much
more fenfible to the fufferer, by how much it was lefs ex-
peated? To this may be added, another confideration of no
fmall profit, That if this emperor paffed to his falvation,
through fo many affronts and cruel torments, what hurt did
they do him? what imports it, that he was fo unhappy in
this life, if he were happy in the other? certainly he gave
fufficient hopes of his contrition; for in all that lamentable,
and never to be paralelled tragedy, no fign of impatience
ever appeared in him, neither fpake he other words than
thefe, Lord bave mercy on me; and when they abuſed and
wounded him with fo much cruelty, all he faid was this,
Why do ye break this bruifed reed? Certainly, if he knew
how to benefit himſelf (as it ſeems he did) by his mitery, he
was more happy in it than in his empire. The eternal is
that which imports. As for the glory of his empire, and the
mifery of his ignominy, they are now past.
A greater emperor was Vitellius (i) than he, fince not only
the East, but Weft acknowledged him, for the Lord and
Monarch of the whole world. The riches he enjoyed were
beyond eſtimation, and gold abounded with him, as ſtones
of the streets with others. In Rome he was acknowledged
Auguftus, and faluted with fo glorious titles, that he ſeemed
to be all he could defire lefs than a God. But wherein end-
ed all this majeſty, but in the greateſt infamy that can be
imagined for having tied a rope about his neck, and his
hands behind him, torn his garments from his back, and
ſtuck a dagger under his chin, they hauled him ignomini-
ously up and down the streets of Rome, caft filth in his face,
and reviled him with a thouſand injurious fpeeches, and at
latt killed him in the market place, and threw him down the
Gemonies, where they uſed to fling the bodies of fuch offend-
ers as were not lawfully to be buried. A ſtrange cafe, to
what
(i) Fulgof. 1.6.
:
206
L I B. III.
The Difference betwixt
1
what end fome men are born, ſuch care, trouble and cir-
cumſpection, in bringing on a life to conclude in fod faſt-
rous a death. He who fhould know the ends of Andronicus
and Vtiellius, and fhould behold their birth, breeding, ftu-
dies, pretences and recreations, ſhould fee them clad in filk
and gold, and acknowledged emperors, Would he ſay in his
heart, that fo much ado was neceffary for fuch an end?
Folly is all humane greatneſs, fince at laſt it muſt end, and
perhaps in fo difaftrous a conclufion. With reaſon did Pa-
chimeras ſay, It was ſafer to trust to a ſhadow, than to hu-
mane happineſs. Who could imagine that the emperor
Valerianus (k), whom the king of Perfia taking priſoner,
kept incloſed in a cage, like ſome wild beast, uſed him as a
foot ſtool when he got on horſe-back, and after flead his fol-
diers and falted them, as if they had been bacon, could pof-
fibly come to ſuch an end? Compare here the different con-
ditions that may happen to a Roman emperor: Behold Vale-
rianys mounted upon a brave courfer, trapped with gold,
clad in purple, crowned with the imperial diadem, adorned
by nations, and commanding over kingdoms: and after fee
the fame man encloſed like a beat, and trodden under the
foot of a barbarous king. Such contrary fortunes happen in
humane life, Let us not therefore trust in it.
§. 2.
Yet leſs imaginable ſeems that which happened unto Pope
John the XXIII. when after four years poffeffion of the
papacy, many princes of Europe having during that time, in
token of obedience kiffed his feet, he himſelf came to kiss
the feet of another Pope; and having in his pontificate creat-
ed many cardinals, took it at laft, as a fingular favour to be
made one himſelf. This feems incredible; but it is a moſt
true hiftory. The mutability of humane things produces fo
trange effects, that our imagination dares not feign them.
Who would think, that the chief biſhop ſhould be made a
captive, as this was in the council of Conftance, affembled
for the pacification of the fchifm, then reigning in the
church? There he was deprived of his dignity, and himfelf
confirmed his own depofition, and fuffered in priſon great
mifery, want and affliction; from whence he made an ef
cape, and fled from place to place, until at length he became
(k) Vide Platinam. Baro. Fulgof,
fo
CA P. III.
207
the Temporal and Eternal.
1
fo well adviſed, as to put himfelf into the hands of Martin
the Fifth, elected after his depofition, who had many cardi
nals then about him, created by this Jobn, who beheld him
that had made them, deprived of all dignities, humbly afk-
ing pardon of the new Pope, whom he acknowledged for
fuch, and esteemed it a great favour to receive his hat a-
new. Thus far can the inftability of temporal goods arrive.
Who could imagine that which happened unto the emperor
Zeng, who after he had poffeffed the empire many years,
cockered in all the blandiſhments of fo high a fortune, was
at laſt conſtrained through famine to eat his cloaths, and
feed upon the fleſh of his own arms; This emperor being in
a trance was given out to be dead, and ſo buried in a vault,
but returning afterwards unto himfelf, he cried out aloud;
named thoſe of his guard and his other fervants, who though
they heard him, would not help him. There he remained
interred alive, eating his own flefh, as witneffes Gedrenus (1),
Who could believe fuch a misfortune? but the mifery,
wherein humane happineſs often terminates, is not to be
conceived,
The glory and riches of Belifarius (m) were greater than
that of many kings. The world was amazed at his valour
and courage: he overcame the Goths in many battles, and
took their king prifoner: he made an end of the Vandals,
and triumphed over their captive king Gilemer: he tri-
umphed alfo in the Eaft over the Perfians. His wealth was
fo great, that in one hour's ſpace, he gained all that the
Vandals had fcraped together in four fcore years. Who
could imagine, that this fo rich and glorious captain, fhould
become a blind beggar, and beg an alms in the church of
St. Sophia, and other public places? Dionyfius the fecond
poffeffed a wealthy kingdom in Sicily (n). Who would
think that from a king, he ſhould be neceffitated to become
a ſchool-maſter? who would not wonder at the cozenage of
the world, that ſhould firft fee him in his royal palace, with
a fceptre in his hand, compaffed about with his fervants,
and the great ones of his kingdom, and ſhould after behold
him in his ſchool, managing a rod in the midſt of a num-
ber of boys? What fhall I fay of king Adonibezec, who after
the conqueft of feventy kings died a flave, and for his
#greater
(1) Cedren. in Com.
:
܀
(m) Vid. Pet. Mex. in vita Juſtini. Crinit. et Volater.
(n) Egn. 1. 6, c. 10. Portan. 1. 2. c. 8. de Fort. domeſt.
208
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
greater infamy, had the extremities of his hands and feet
cut off? Spain afforded queen Gofwinda (o), beloved and
eſteemed by king Leovigildus her hufband, afterwards pub-
licly executed and tormented in the market-place of Toledo.
Of no lefs marvel is that which happened unto the empress.
Maria, wife unto Otho the third, burned by order of justice;
which being a ſtory of memory. I fhall relate it out of God-
fridus Viterbienfis (p). Thefe two princes paffing by Mo-
dema, the empress became defperately enamoured of a young
Count, much a gentleman, and excellently accompliſhed
in the lineaments of his body, but much more in the per-
fections of his mind, in ſo much as he neglected and flight-
ed the violent addreffes and follicitations of this fond prin-
cefs; who perceiving herfelf mock'd, full of choler and
madneſs, did, as Joſeph's miſtreſs, cry out a rape, and accu-
ſed the innocent Count, to the over-credulous emperor, that
he would have forced her: who without much fearch into
the buſineſs believed it, and caufed him to be beheaded;
which as foon as it came to the knowledge of his Countefs,
a lady of an heroick and confident fpirit, and fully fatisfied
of the goodness and innocency of her huſband, at fuch time
as the emperor gave audience, ſhe entered into the preſence,
and flinging down the head of her huſband before him, ac-
cuſed him as an unjuft judge, and demanded justice of him
againſt himself; and for proof of what ſhe ſaid, offered her-
felf to the then ufual trial of burning iron; which being ac-
cepted, and the heated iron put into her hands, ſhe handled
it, as if it had been a nofegay of flowers: which being feen
by the emperor, he confeffed himſelf guilty; but the Coun-
tefs not fo ſatisfied cried out, that fince he was faulty he
ought to die, for that he had cauſed to be executed an inno-
cent perſon; neither could he be contented, until the fen-
tence was pronounced againſt the empreis (who was the au-
thor of that mifchief) to be burned: which was accordingly
executed upon this great princefs, wife to fo potent an em-
peror, and daughter of the king of Arragon; for neither
crowns nor fceptres, fecure us from the inconftancy of hu-
mane changes. Well was it faid by St. Gregory Nazianzen,
that we may better truft unto the wind, or to letters written
upon water, than unto humane felicity.
(0) Max. an. 589.
(p) Vid. Chr. Coriol. an. 668.
}
§. 3.
CAP. III.
209
the Temporal and Eternal.
§. 3.
What we have hitherto recounted are charges, not falls.
That which we are to fear is a fall from fanctity and virtue,
and this is properly to all, when we defcend from the flate
of grace to that of fin. The mutations of fortune are but
exchanges of one condition for another. No man can fall
when he is at loweft; and the loweſt and bafeſt of all things
is humane felicity, which when it quits us, we fall not, but
change it, and perhaps for the better. The true falls are
thoſe which are ſpiritual; and it may with reaſon amaze us
to fee, that on this part alfo we are expofed to uncertainties.
But this may be our comfort, that temporal changes are not
in our hands, but fpiritual are. Our wealth, whether we
will or no, may be taken from us, but grace unleſs by our
own fault cannot. We may be bereaved of honours againſt
our will, but not of virtue except we confent. Corporal
goods may periſh, be ſtolen, and loft a thouſand manner of
ways: but fpiritual goods can only be forfaken, and are
then only loft, when we leave them by fin. This may make
us tremble that they are loft, becauſe we will lose them, and
not being mutable in themſelves, they change becauſe we
are mutable. That which hath happened in this time is
moſt lamentable. St. Peter Damian (q) writes, that he knew
a Monk in the city of Benevento, named Mudelmo, who ar-
rived at fo great fanctity of life, that being upon a holy
Saturday to fill a dozen of lamps, and oil failing for the laſt,
he with great faith filled it with water, and lighting it, it
burned as the reft. Many other miracles he wrought in our
Lord, for which he was in great esteem, both of the prince
and citizens. But wherein ended this miraculous and vene-
rable man? a strange change. God withdrawing his holy
hand from him, he fell into fuch difhonefty of life, that he
was taken and publicly whipped, and his head for his great-
er ignominy, ſhaved like a ſlave. A lamentable tragedy is
the life of man, wherein we behold fo contrary extremes.
'The fame St. Peter Damian (r) writes, that he knew in the
fame city a Prieſt of ſo great fanctity, that every day, when
he celebrated mafs, the prince of Benevento beheld an angel
deſcend from heaven, who took the divine myſteries from
his hands to offer them unto the Lord. Yet this man fo
(q) Petr. Dami. 1. 1. c, 10.
(f) Ibidem.
Dd
favoured
210
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
favoured from above, fell into the like vice, that all might
fear, and none he affured in any ſtate whatsoever.
A
St. John Climacus relates the ftory of that young man, of
whom we read in the lives of the Fathers, who mounted
unto fo high a degree of virtue, that he commanding the
wild affes, and compelled them to ferve the Monks of the
monaftery; whom bleffed St. Anthony compared to a fhip
laden with rich merchandize, failing in the midst of the
ocean, whoſe end was uncertain. Afterwards this ſo fervent
youth fell moft miferably, and bewailing his fin, faid unto
fome of the Monks who paffed by, Speak unto the old man
(that is St. Anthony) that he pray unto God, that he would
grant me yet ten days of repentance. The holy man hear-
ing this, tore the hair from his head, and faid, A great
Pillar of the Church is fallen: and five days after the Monk
died, in fo much as he who heretofore commanded the wild
beaſts of the wilderness, became a fcorn to the devils, and
he who preferved himself by bread from heaven, was after-
wards deprived of his fpiritual fuftenance. Lamentable alfo
is the accident related by Heroclides of Hieron Alexandrinus,
(s) who having flourished many years in great virtue and
fame of fancity, left off all, and became a haunter of pub-
lic ftews. In the fame manner Ptolomy the Egyptian, hav-
ing paffed fifteen years in the defart in continual prayer,
ſuſtaining himſelf only with bread, and the dew which fell
from heaven, came to leave all, and lead a moſt ſcandalous
life. If we look into the holy fcriptures, we ſhall find
greater changes, and more lamentable falls. Who would
think that Saul, choſen of God for very good, of an hum-
ble and patient fpirit, fhould end in a luciferian pride, and
in a mortal hatred againſt the beſt man in Ifrael? Who
would think that a man fo wife, and fo religious as Solomon,
fhould in this latter times be feduced by women, and ere&t
temples unto falſe Gods? Finnally, who would imagine
that an apostle of Chrift, fhould die in defpair and hang
himself? What man can then prefume fo much of himfelf,
that he needs not ſtand in fear of what he may be?
(s) Heracl. in Parad. And. Ebor. Ex. mem. t. 2. de mor. &
for. mut.
1
CAP.
CA P. IV.
211
the Temporal and Eternal.
CA P. IV.
The changes of bumane things, bews clearly their vanity, and
bow worthy they are to be contemned.
HIS inconftancy and change of things, ferves as a tel
timony of their vanity. Witnefs thofe, who have had
the largest experience of humane greatnefs and felicity.
Gilimer king of the Vandales was of great power, wealth
and valour but overcome by Belifarius, and deprived of
Conftantinople. When he approached the place where fuf
tinian the emperor was feated, in a throne of comparable
majeſty, cloathed in his imperial robes, and compaffed with
the great princes of his empire, the captive king beholding
him in fo great glory, and himſelf a ſlave, abandoned of
the whole world, neither wept nor complained, nor fhewed
the leaſt ſign of forrow or resentment, but only uttered that
molt true ſentence of the wife-man (t), Vanity of vanities,
and all is vanity. He who knew this, no marvel, though in
to great a misfortune he had dry eyes. For if he knew that
all humane greatneſs was vanity, wherefore ſhould he grieve
for that which was nothing? That is not worthy of grief,
which deferves not love. Things fo mutable are thoſe below,
that as they merit not our affections when we enjoy them,
fo they ought not to vex and afflict us when we loſe them.
This apprehenfion was the cauſe of the great equality of
mind, which this prince expreffed in all his actions, who was
fo far from fhewing any grief, in the lofs of his kingdom
and fortunes, that he rather feemed to laugh and rejoice;
and therefore when he was overthrown in battle, and forced
to fly into Numidia, where he fortified himſelf in one of the
mountains, the enemy befieging, and ftreightning him with
want of victuals, he fent to the captain, who commanded in
chief, to demand of him bread, a fpunge, and a cittern;
bread to ſuſtain his life, which was now like to perish for want
of food: a (punge to dry his eyes, for that having now en-
tered into the confideration of the vanity of humane things,
(t) Procop. li. 2. de bello Vandalorum.
and
212
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
and aſhamed at his grief for the lofs of them, he was re-
folved to change his paffions, and rather laugh than weep:
for what being poffeffed afforded no fecurity, the fame being
loft brought no prejudice; and to this end demanded a cit-
tern; for that having wiped his eyes from their fruitless tears,
he was now refolved to change his complaints into fongs,
and his grief into content, which confiits not fo much in the
abundance of a great fortune, as in the fufficiency of a mo-
derate. And with reafon might he take the cittern; for if he
well confidered, he might rejoice even in his mishap, fince
his lofs made him underſtand that deceit of the world, which
his moſt ample kingdom never could, and freed him not
only from cares and troubles, but from fins, which in the
prosperity of this life, have a larger field than in an adverfe
fortune. Poſſeſſed of this truth they took him prifoner, and
brought him to the conquering Belifarius. The captive king
came with thofe expreffions of joy and mirth, that the Ge-
neral ſeeing him laugh, whom he judged to have ſo great a
cauſe of tears, though his grief had diftracted him, and that
he had lost his wits; but he never had them perfe&ter, fince
he laughed at humane greatnefs, and now perceived how
ridiculous a thing is that which we call felicity, and in his
heart rightly esteemed it, as it is, a vanity of vanities.
I believe the fame judgment, which this king gave of the
vanity of temporal things, would, if it had been asked, been
given by the emperor Andronicus, when naked, and his
head ſhaved like a flave, he was infamoufly dragged through
the streets of Conftantinople. What was then his imperial
diadem? what his throne and majefty? what his ornaments
of gold and filver? All was vanity, and a vanity of vani-
ties. Neither would this have been denied by Vitellius,
when they threw dit in his face, and hauled him into the
market-place to be executed. What were then the fpe&a-
cles of the amphitheatre, and games of the Circus, the fig-
niory of the world, but vanity of vanities and univerſal
vanity? The fame would Crafus have preached from the
flames, The tyrant Bajazet from his cage. King Boliflaus
from his kitchen, and Dionyfius from his fchool. If alive
they would have laid this, upon the fight only of the infta-
bility of this life, what would they now fay upon the expe-
rience of eternity, whereinio they are entered? Let us take
the opinion of thofe princes which are damned, what they
now think of the majesty, which they enjoyed in this life;
Vanity
CAP. IV.
213
the Temporal and Eternal.
Vanity they will fay it was a fmoke, a dream, a fhadow.
And without doubt thoſe kings, which are now in heaven
in poffeffion of thofe eternal joys, will fay the ſame, That
all felicity here below, is poor, ſcarce and ſhort, and vanity
of vanities, and worfe, if it has been an occafion of fin.
But it is not needful to call witneffes from the other life,
fince the vanity of this is fo evident, that he who ſhall ſet
himſelf to confider the greatnefs of this world, fhall perceive
that by how much it is more glorious, by fo much it is more
vain. What greater majeſty than that of the Roman empire?
Let us call to mind what happened in that. Scarce was the
election of a Roman emperor known before they, who choſe
him, or fome more fubtle or powerful than they, had mur-
thered him. And although they ſtudied nothing more, than
to preferve themſelves in the imperial dignity, yet few there
were that could effect it. Amongst nineteen or twenty em-
perors, which paſſed betwixt Antoninus the philofopher, and
Claudius the fecond, not one efcaped a violent death, be-
fides many other tyrants, who took the names of emperors;
as in Galienus his time, thirty ufurped that title, and mur-
thered one another: infomuch, as he who called himſelf an
emperor, was almost certain to die a violent death; fo as the
greatest felicity of the world, was tied to the greateſt miſhap.
And it is to be wondered, that any (though almoſt forced)
would accept the diadem. But fuch is the folly of men, that
having before their eyes fo many lamentable examples, they
gape after thoſe glories, which hardly laft from morning un-
til night. Some of them had fcarce been faluted emperors,
when they were cut in pieces. Aurelianus was one of thoſe,
who exhibited the most glorious triumph that ever Rome be-
held, where were fhewed an infinite number of captives,
from the three parts of the world, many rare beafts, as ty-
gers, lyons, ounces, elephants, dromedaries, a mighty quan-
tity of arms taken from the conquered enemies, three moſt
fumptuous chariots, one of the king of the Palmerins, ano-
ther of the Perfians, and a third of the Goths, Two who
called themſelves emperors, and the great queen Cenobia,
adorned with most precious jewels and rich pearls, and fet-
tered in chains of gold. He himself entered in a triumphat
chariot taken from the king of the Goibs, drawn by ſtags,
inimediately followed by the conquering army, richly armed,
crowned with laurel, and carrying palms in their hands.
Never emperor arrived at fuch a height of glory. But how
long
214
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
long lafted it? A fhort time after he was ftabbed with póni-
ards, having hardly time to take notice of his greatneſs,
much less to enjoy it. By how many ſteps and ſtrange ways
did Elias Pertinax, in his old age, climb unto the imperial
throne, and loft it before it was known in the empire, that
he commanded it? He was the fon of a flave, and firſt a
merchant, by which he became a good accomptant; then
he ſtudied grammar, and became a ſchool-maſter; after that
a lawyer, and having learned to defend caules, was made
an advocate; but not profpering by theſe courſes, he lifted
himſelf a foldier. Neither feemed he in that to thrive much
better for being arrived to the dignity of a centurion, he
was cafhiered with infamy. But he quitted it not fo; for
returning unto the fame trade, in procefs of time he became
a fenator: fhortly after conful; then prefident of Syria: at
laft when he expected the hang man to take away his life,
he was faluted emperor by thofe foldiers, who then came
freſh from the flaughter of Commodus. They entering hist
houſe by night, he told them he was the man whom the ty-
rant had fent them to murther: but they prefented him the
fceptre and diadem, which he accepted, although then 70
years of age; and after had ſcarce warmed the imperial feat,
having only reigned three months, when he was cut in
pieces, in a time he leaft fufpe&ted it, being fo beloved, ef-
teemed, and praiſed by the Romans, that every one would
have ſpent a thouſand lives to have faved his; yet notwith-
ſtanding a few foldiers paffed publicly through the midſt of
the city, and in the fight of all, ftabbed an emperor ſo be-
loved and honoured of the people, and returned back with-
out any fo much as queftioning them, when thofe of one
ftreet (fo few were the murtherers) had been fufficient to
have killed them with ftones. Who fees not here the in-
conftancy and vanity of humane things, as well in the life,
as unexpected death of this prince? by how many changes
and windings did he climb unto the top of the imperial
greatness, and how fuddenly without any ftop or turn at all,
was he tumbled head-long down? how long was his fortune
in growing, and how quickly cut? feventy years of a prof-
perous life, ended in the counterfeit felicity of three months,
and the unhappy death of an hour. Then all is vanity of
vanities, fince that which cofts fo much, lafts fo little, and
death in leſs than one hour overthrows the fortune of ſeventy
years..
§. 2.
CAP. IV.
215
the Temporal and Eternal.
§. 2.
If the felicity of this life did only end, when life ends,
yet that were fufficient to undervalue it, but it often ends
before it, and fometimes changes into difgraces and mishaps,
ſo as with our own eyes, we often behold an end of our
greateſt fortunes. Let us not therefore truft in life, becauſe
it may fail, whilst the goods of it remain, and let us as little
truſt in them, becauſe they may likewife fail, whilſt it conti-
nues. Let this inftability of things undeceive us, and let
us ſeriouſly confider their vanity, in their manner of leaving
us; which is excellently reprefented by St. John Chryfof-
tome (u), in the cunuch Eutropius Patrician of Conftantino-
ple, conful and great chamberlain to the emperor Arcadus,
who with-drawing his privacy and favour from him, com-
mitted him to prifon; which the holy doctor admirably
ponders in this manner. "If in any time, now more than
ever may be faid, Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
"Where is now the:fplendor of the confulate? where the
litors and their fafces? where the applaufes, dances,
"banquets and revels? where the crowns and tapeſtry?
"where the noiſe of the city, and the flattering acclamati-
"ons of the circus? all thofe things are perifhed; a boifte-
rous wind hath blown away the leaves, and left the na-
"ked tree tottering, and almoft plucked up by the roots.
"Such was the violence of the ſtorin, that when it had
"fhaken all the nerves, it threatened utterly to overthrow
"the ſtock. Where are now thoſe maſking-friends, thoſe
"healths and fuppers? where that fwarm of Parafites, and
"that flood of wine poured out from morning till evening?
"where that exquifite and various artifice of cooks, thofe
"fervants accuſtomed to fay, and do all that pleaſed? All
"theſe were no more than a night's dream, which difap-
peared with the day, flowers which withered, when the
"pring was ended; a fhadow they were, and fo they paf-
"fed: a fmoke, and fo they vanished: Bubbles in the wa-
66
ter, and fo they burft: Spiders webs, and fo were torn
"aſunder. Wherefore let us ever repeat this fentence,
"Vanity of vanities; all is vanity. This faying ought to be
"written upon our walls, market places, houſes, ſtreets,
"windows, gates, but principally in the confcience of every
66 one,
(u) Hom. in Eutrop. tom. 5.
216
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
66
86
one, fince the deceitful employments of this life, and the
"enemies of truth have gained too much power and au-
thority with many. This is it which one man ought to
fay unto another; this is it we ought to ſay at dinner, at
fupper, and in all our converfation, Vanity of vanities;
"all is vanity. Did I not daily tell thee, that riches were
•
66
fleeting and deceitful? but thou wouldeſt not endure me.
"Did not I tell thee, they had the condition of a fugitive
"flave? but thou wouldeft not believe me. See how ex-
"perience hath taught thee, that they are not only fugi-
❝tive, but ungrateful and murthering, fince they have caft
"thee into this exigent. But becauſe this Eunuch would
"neither be adviſed by the counfel of his domeftics, not
"ftrangers, do thou at least, who are puffed up with wealth.
" and honours, make uſe of this calamity, and turn it to
"thy own profit. There is nothing more infirm than hu-
mane things. By what name foever thon fhalt exprefs
"their baſeneſs, thou fhalt ftill fall fhort. Call them hay,
"fmoke, a dream, flowers which wither: all is too little:
c
they are fo frail, that they are more nothing, than no-
"thing itſelf. They are not only nothing, but are ſtill in
precipitation. Who was more exalted than this man?
was he not famous for his wealth through the world?
was he not mounted up to the height of all humane ho-
"nour? Did not all fear and reverence him? But behold
"him now more miferable than flaves and bond-men,
"more indigent than thoſe who beg their bread from door
66
་་
to door. There is no day, wherein are not ſet before his
eyes, fwords drawn and fharpened to cut his throat; pre-
"cipices, hangmen, and the ſtreet which lead to the gal-
lows. Neither doth he enjoy the memory of his paft
pleaſures, nor the common light, but is at mid-day, as in
a dark night, penned up betwixt four walls, deprived of
"the uſe of his eyes. But wherefore do I remember thoſe
things, fince no words are able to exprefs the fear of his
"mind, who every hour expe&ts his puniſhment? to what
end are my fpeeches, when the image of his calamity
appears fo evidently before thine eyes? Not long ago,
"the emperor having fent fome foldiers to draw him out of
"the church, whither he was fled for fan&uary, he became
as pale as box, and at this inftant, hath no better colour
"than one who were dead. To this add, that his teeth
gnaſh againſt one another, his body quakes, his voice is
66
"" broken
CAP. V.
217
the Temporal and Eternal.
"broken with ſobs, his tongue fammers; in concluſion he
"ftands like one, whoſe foul were frozen for fear within
"him." All this is from St. John Chryfoftome. It is not
needful to attend the end of this life, to fee the impofture of
it. It is enough to ſee the alterations whilſt it laſts.
CAP. V.
The bajenefs and diforder of Temporal things: and bow great.
a Monſter Men bave made the World.
LE
ET us now come to confider the baſeneſs of all that
which paffes in time; which appeared fo mean and
poor unto Marcus Aurelius, that he faid, "Thoſe things
which fall under fenfe, which either allure us with de-
"light, or deje& us with grief, or glitter with outward
"pomp and appearance, how vile are they all? how wor
"thy of contempt ? how fordid and filthy? how fubje& to
"perish, and how dead?" This faid, that great emperor
and monarch of the world, when the Roman empire was in
its greateſt power and luftre, and in the greateſt experience
of the goods of the earth, being more powerful, and having
more command of them than Solomon: and yet he not only
fays, they were vain, but vile, filthy, contemptible, and
dead. That we may underſtand this better, let us look into
the ſubſtance and being, which temporal things have of
themſelves, without refpe& either to the fhortness of their
duration, or to the variety of their changes, for which alone,
although in themſelves most precious, yet were they moſt
defpicable; but being fo little, fo vile, fo diforderly, and for
the most part, fo hurtful and prejudicial unto us, although
they were eternal, yet ought they to be contemned. We
are not therefore only to look upon that littleneſs and poor-
nefs which they have by nature, and from themſelves, but
upon the evil which they have acquired by our abuſe; For
the world, which of itſelf were tolerable, is by us made fuch
that it is not to be endured, even by thoſe who best love it-
E c
And
218
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
And to thofe natural goods, which it affords, our infatiable.
appetite hath added fuch artificial fopperies of our own in-
ventions, that of both together, we have compofed a mon-
ſter, no leſs horrible than that defcribed by St. John in the
Apocalyps. And therefore he that will fee what worldly feli-
city is, let him caft his eyes upon that beaſt, which for his
unquietnels and inconflancy, is faid to rife out of the fea.
He had the head and face of a Lyon, the body of a Leo-
pard, a beaſt various and fpotted, and the feet of a bear:
and for his more deformity, he had ſeven heads, and ten
horns. This is the lively image of that which paffes in the
world. For as this monter is compofed of three favage
beafts, of a Bear, which is carnal and luxurious, of a Leo-
pard, whofe ſkin is full of eyes, and of a Lyon, the proud-
est of all other beafts: fo in the world, there is no other
thing, as St. John faith (x), but the concupifcence of the
Alefh, the concupifence of the eyes, and the pride of life,
that is luft and exorbitancy in pleatures, covetousness and
gaping after riches, ambition and defire of honours. Of
thoſe three monflers, is compofed the monſter of monſters,
which we call the world: which hath alſo his feven heads,
and ten horns, to wit, the feven deadly fins, by which are
impugned the ten commandments, and the obfervation of
the whole law of God.
Let us alſo conſider the mysterious difpofition of the parts
of this beast. The feet are faid to be of a Bear, the body
of a Leopard, and the head of a Lyon, becauſe all the in-
ventions and additions, ftratagems and defigns of the world,
are founded upon the pleaſure and delights of the appetite,
which are natural: and upon this foundation our inalice has
built riches, and honours which are not natural, but hu-
mane inventions. Riches are the body of the world, and
upon them is railed pride, as the head of that body. Befides
riches are moſt conveniently placed in the middle, between
pleaſure and honours, as being neceffary for the ſupportation
of both, without which neither can be maintained. Avarice
therefore forms the body of this beat, that it may equally
nouriſh pleaſure and ambition. Let us then propofe unto
ourfelves the image of this world, under the form of this
monſter and chimera, as well to demonftrate the confuſion
and turmoil of it, as to fignify unto us, that the whole ſub-
fance and being of it, confifts meerly in the imagination
(x) Ep. 1. c. 2.
and
CAP. V. the Temporal and Eternal.
219
and appearance. For fuch a monster compofed of the fe-
veral parts of divers beasts, which hath no being or founda-
tion in reafon, but is only framed by the fancy, the philofo-
phers call a chimera; and fuch truly are the things of this
world, inconftant, confufed and troubled, and have no fub-
ftance or being in themſelves, but are only deceit and ap-
pearance. Some feem great, and are but little; others cozen
us more, appear to be goods, and are really evils. To un-
derſtand this better, and know the vanity of the world, we
are to fuppofe, that humane malice hath corrupted and
poiſoned it by inventing new gefts and pleaſures: unto
which we have added by our imagination, what they want-
ed of being and reality: and by diverting things from thofe
proper ends, for which they were ordained, have made them
all vain, and the world a monster of many heads; for the
head of all things is, as Pbilo calls it, the end, and the things
of the world, having left their utmoſt and true end, which is
one God, and difordered themſelves by the many ends of
particular vices, have made that beaft, which is faid not to
have one but many heads, which makes it fo monftrous and
deformed. Men follow not in the ufe of things their proper
end, which is to pleafe and ferve God, but aim at the ferv-
ing of their paffions, and fatisfy their appetites: which as
they are divers, fo they have divers ends and refpe&ts; from
whence refults the monftrofity of fo many heads and faces.
From the multitude then of ends, follows this deformity,
which includes, and is always accompanied with vanity.
For the world following this vanity of adulterate ends, con-
trary to reaſon and nature, leaves the true and lawful end,
which is the fervice of God; and that which leaves its pro-
per end, becomes uſeleſs and vain. If you ſhould blind the
eyes of ſome excellent markſman, his art and ſkill were loſt,
and his bow would become unprofitable, becauſe he remain-
ed deprived of that, by which he was to attain his end.
all things being created to this end, that man by them might.
ſerve God, this end wanting, they became vain and afelefs.
By this example may be clearly leen how vain is the world,
fince it doth not direct thoſe things it enjoys, for the fervice
of the univerſal Creator, but for other vain and imaginary
ends, by which it becomes wholly itſelf a vanity? The mul-
titude of gold, filver, plate, jewels, precious furniture, and
other ornaments which we glory in, are they perhaps for the
ſervice of God? Let St. Alexius tell us, whether he chofe
So
them
220
L I B. III.
The Difference betwixt
them as means to that end; and if they be not for the fer-
vice of the Lord of all, what are they all but vanity? Abun-
dance of delights, mafques, dances, feats, entertainments,
are they perhaps to pleaſe God? Let St. Brung tell us; and
if they be not for that purpoſe, what are they all but vanity?
Majeſty, oftentation of titles and honours, are they perhaps
for the fervice of God? Let St. Jofaphat tell us, who fled
from his temporal kingdom, that he might better apply him-..
felf unto the ſervice of the king of heaven. Vain is all the
greatneſs of the earth, if that of heaven be not gained by it
The most precious thing failing, which is the right end, all
befides becomes vain, frivolous, and of no esteem.
:
§. 2.
{
This deviation and wandering of worldly things, from
their proper and due end, is fufficient to declare their vanity.
and diſorder. But there is yet another error in them, which
makes them appear much more vain, which is, that they
not only go aftray from their firft and great end, which is
the fervice of God, but alſo fail, and hold no proportion
with that fecond end, which humane vices propofe unto
them here. That which our appetite pretends in riches,
pomp and honours, which it hath invented, is the felicity
of this life and to that they are fo little proper, as they
have rather difpofed things for our mifery and torment;
and therefore vain are all our fancies and inventions. To
maintain and uphold our honour, what laws, rights and ir-
regular cuſtoms hath the world invented, to the great danger
of our lives, and the hindrance of our pleaſures? It hath
made honour fo brittle, that with one word, whofoever lift
may take it from us, which is the occafion that many live
difhonoured; and if they will recover it, it must cost their
lives, fortunes or quiet. What greater madness than that
the thing, which they have made of the greateſt eſteem in
the world, fhould be fubject to fuch an inconvenience, and
of ſo curſed a condition, that it is very eaſy to loſe, and moſt
difficult to regain: that any one may bereave us of it, and
he which hath taken it from us, cannot reſtore it that it is
in another man's hand to deſtroy it, and not in our own to
repair it? What faw in the world more unjuſt, that if an
infamous perfon give thee the lie, thou remaineft dishonour-
ed, although he lied that give it: and that honour which
hereby
CAP. V.
221
the Temporal and Eternal.
hereby one word hath taken from thee, thou can'ſt not reco-
ver by another? What greater folly than to fight for ho-
nour, and maintain truth by quarrelling, as if he were the
most honourable perfon, and fpake the trueft, which were
the strongest, especially being fo prejudicial to the moſt vir-
tuous? for it commonly happens, that thoſe who have the
clearest wits, the nobleft fouls, and the most conftant and
found judgments, have the weakest bodies. Finally in this
matter of honour, men have invented fuch laws, fuch punc-
tilioes, fuch impertinent formalities, that if they were all
truly and really mad, they could not have done more ab-
furdly. For what is madneſs, but to do things without pro-
portion, order or reafon? which fince the world does, we
muft conclude it vain, fenfeleſs and fooliſh.
Coming then to riches, which were invented for the eaſe
and commodity of life, humane malice hath made them.
fuch, as they ſerve for our greater trouble and vexation. For
he that is rich, will not only be rich himſelf, but must have
all he hath ſo too. He is not content with having a good
garment, unless his walls be with curious pictures, rich ta-
peſtries, precious cabinets, and other rarities better clad than
himself, which ferve not for warmth or ufe, but only for
ſhow and appearance. From whence it happens, that he,
who hath moſt wealth, hath moft want, becauſe he not only
needs for himſelf, but for all which he poffeffeth: fo that
he who hath a great houſe, hath the fame neceffities that his
houſe, which are many: for a great houfe requires much
furniture, and a large family, and ſo charges the mafter with
multitudes of fervants, great quantities of plate, hangings,
and other ornaments fuperfluous for ufe, and humane.com-
modity; infomuch, as none are more poor than the rich :
becauſe they want not only for themſelves, but for all that
is theirs. At leaſt riches want not this incommodity, that
although they were invented for humane ufe and cafe, yet
he that hath them in the greateft abundance, hath the great-
eſt cares, troubles, envies, dangers, and ever the greateſt
loffes.
The fame diſorder and abuſe happens in divers other par
ticulars, which at first were invented for a comfort and re-
medy of our wants, but are now become a burthen and
trouble unto us. Our garments, which were for neceffity,
are now worn for ornament, and ufing them for other ends
than they were defigned, they become our vexations. A
girdle
222
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
girdle or a fhoe too much freightened, afflicts the body,
and hinders us in divers actions: bravery, gold chains, and
other needlefs ornaments burthen us. Wherefore St. Am-
brofe faith (y), "A weighty chain of gold about the neck,
"or ftumbling chapines upon the feet, ferve as a punith-
ment unto women, as if they were fome great offenders;
" for in reſpect of the pain and weight, with which they
grieve thoſe who wear them, what matters it whether
they be of gold or iron? both equally oppress their necks
"and hinder their going. The price and value of the gold
"eafes nothing: nay rather adds to their trouble, in respect
"of the fear they live in, left they ſhould looſe them, or
"that fome ſhould against their wills, free them of their
t
pain and trouble, According to this, it little imports,
"whether the pain be inflicted by our own ſentence, (as
"the women in this cafe pafs it againſt themſelves) or by
"the award of others, as againft offenders. Only women
“are in this, in the more miſerable condition, fince others
"defire to be freed, and eaſed of their fetters and impriſon-
ment, and they to the contrary, defire ftill to be fubject
"and tied unto theirs." This from St. Ambrofe. Our food
alfo, which is given by nature, for the fuftenance of our
lives, humane malice hath by the invention of new dainties,
and various ways of cookery to pleaſe the pallat, made deſ-
tructive both to the life and tafte: Thofe new infirmities
and ſharp griefs, whereof the world is full, being occafioned,
as the phyficians affirm, by our diſorderly diet, and multi-
plicity of new devifed difhes. Hector Boetius, in his fecond
book of the hiftory of the Scats, faith," Our anceſtors.
"knew not thoſe ſeveral forts of infirmities, which we fee
"in our age; anciently ſcarce any fell fick but of the ftone,
"abundance of flegm, or fome other infirmity proceeding
" from cold or moisture; They lived well, and their ſpare
"diet preferved their bodies from diſeaſes, and enlarged
"their lives for many years. But now of late, fince we
"have forfaken our country-food, and given ourfelves to
"the curious feeding of other nations, ftrange diſeaſes have
<< entered with ſtrange diſhes." And in his ninth book he
faith, that they knew not plagues, nor sharp and violent fe-
vers, ſo long as they preferved their ancient diet.
This feparation and wandering of worldly things, from
their principal and chief end, which is God, cauſes ſuch a
diſtance
(y) Ambrof. L 1. de Virgin.
CAP. V.
223
the Temporal and Eternal.
distance betwixt them and reafon, that therefore they be-
come a monster; and fo St. John very fitly paints the world
in the figure of this monfter, with feven heads of a beaft,
and none of a man. For if that man were monſtrous, which
had no humane head, but ſeven of brutiſh creatures, no lefs
monster is the world, which wants the natural end and head,
which is God, whom it ought to feek according to reaſon,
and not purſue thofe falfe and adulterate ends, which are
contrary to it.
The world wants the head of a man, be-
cauſe it doth not order itſelf according to the end of reaſon;
and it retains the heads of beafts, becauſe it is guided by
paffion, appetite, and the like, which are the ends of beaſts.
If we ſhall then behold the great vanity of things together,
with the multitude of vices, wherein men have involved
them, and daily make them worse, to whom can this beaſt
irritated with ſo many ſharp goads, as are our fins, be toler-
able? What injuftice is not committed? what flattery not
infinuated? what cozenage not attempted? and what re-
venge not executed? Avarice difquiets all, luxury corrupts
it, and ambition treads it under foot.
From what is faid it follows, that the things of this world
repreſented unto us by St. John, under the figure of thoſe
three fierce and cruel beafts, are according to our diforderly
manner of using them, much prejudicial and hurtful, both
to our fouls and bodies. And if we ſhould behold them, as
they lie hidden under that appearance of pleaſure, which
they feign and counterfeit, we fhould be affrighted, as if we
had feen Lyons or Tygers, which would tear us in pieces,
or Serpents, which would fting and poifon us; And the like
unto that which was done by the fervant of God, Volcon (2),
would happen unto us. This man was a holy Prieft, and
very zealous and defirous to draw a certain rich man to the
fervice of God. He took his occafion by coming one-day
to dinner unto him, and entering the houfe, he faid, Sir,
what have we to eat? the rich man replied, Trouble not
yourſelf, you ſhall eat the beſt the town affords. The holy
man went straight to the kitchen, accompanied with many
others, who followed him, and calling the cook, command-
ed him to bring forth thoſe diſhes which were provided. An
admirable thing. No fooner were they brought in and un-
covered, but the capons, pheasants, peacocks, and other
dainties, turned into Toads and Serpents, with which the
(z) Zon. To. 13. ex Othone.
rich
224
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
:
rich man remained amazed, and was taught, that to give
himself over to gluttony, and the immoderate pleaſure of
his taſte, was no lefs hurtful for him, than to feed on poif-
onous creatures, or to have to do with Lyons, Serpents and
Tygers. And it is certain, that Lyons, and the moſt furious
beafts, have not killed fo many as have died by furfeits, and
pleafing too much their pallats.
CA P. VI.
Of the littleness of things Temporal.
ETTING afide how vain the things of this world are,
SETTIN
let us particularly confider how little they are, and we
fhall perceive, that though their vanity, which fwells and
blows them up, feems to extend them, yet they are in them-
felves poor, fhort and little, eſpecially if we compare them
with things eternal. Beginning therefore with that tempo-
ral good, which feems to have the greatest bulk, and makes
the greateſt noife, to wit, honour, fame and renown, we
ſhall ſee how narrow it is. Men defire that their fame ſhould
ring through the whole world, and that all ſhould know
their names; and if they did, what are all in reſpect of
thoſe in the other world, fince the whole earth in respect of
the heavens is but a point? But who is he that can be known
of all who live? Millions of men there are in the world,
who know not whether there be an emperor of Germany, or
a king of Spain. Let no man then afflict himſelf for this
vain honour; for even in his own country, all ſhall not
know him. Many thouſand years are paſt, and no man
knew thee, and of thofe who fhall be born hereafter, few
ſhall remember thee, and although thou remaineft in the
memory of those, yet they alfo in the end muft die, and with
them thine, and their own memory muft perish, and thou
fhalt, as before thou wert, continue a whole eternity without
being known, or celebrated by any. And even now, whilit
thou liveft, there are not many who know thee, and of thoſe
most of them fo bad, that thou oughteſt to be aſhamed, that
fuch
CAP. VI.
225
the Temporal and Eternal.
fuch mouths fhould praife thee, who fpeak ill even of one
another. Wherefore then dost thou torment thyself for a
thing ſo ſhort, fo vile and fo vain? All theſe things are fo
certain, that even the Gentiles acknowledged them. Hear
only one, who was placed in the higheſt degree of glory and
dignity in the whole world, fince he was Lord of it, the em
peror Marcus Antoninus (a), who ſpeaks in this manner:
"Perhaps thou art follicitous of honour. Behold how quick-
ly oblivion blots out all things. Behold a chaos of eter
nity both before and after. How vain is the noiſe of
"fame? how great the inconftancy, and uncertainty of
"humane judgments and opinions? in how narrow a com-
"pafs are all things inclofed? The world is but a point?
"and of it how fmall a corner is inhabited, and who, and
"how many are thoſe in it, who are to praiſe thee? And
66 a little after he adds: He who defires fame and honour
"after death, thinks not that he, who is to remember him,
"fball fhortly die alfo, and in the fame manner, he who is
66
to ſucceed after him, until that all memory, which is to
"be propagated by mortal men, be blotted out. But fup-
pofe that thofe, who are to remember thee, were immor-
tal, what could it import thee being dead? nay even
"alive, what could it profit thee to be praifed? all that is
"fair, is fair of itfelf, and is perfect within itſelf, and to be
praiſed, is no part of the beauty. He therefore who is
"celebrated, is for that reafon, neither better nor worfe.'
Theſe antidotes are drawn by the pagan prince, against the
poifon of ambition. Why therefore fhould we chriftians ef-
teem any honour, but that of God?
66
What shall I fay of the vanity of thofe titles, which many
have affumed againſt all reafon and juftice, only to make
themſelves known in the world? Let us judge how it will
fare with us of Europe, by thoſe who have taken titles upon
them in Afia. For if the fame of thofe in Afia, arrive not
to the knowledge of us in Europe, no more fhall ours in Eu-
rope to theirs in Afia. The name of Echebar (b) was thought
by his fubjects to be eternal, and that all the world did not
only know, but fear him. But aſk here in Europe who he
was, and no man hath heard of him; and demand now of
the moſt learned, and few fhall refolve you, unleſs perchance
(a) Marc, Anton, 1. 3. p. 200.
(b) Jarricus in Thefau. Indic.
F f
he
226
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
he find here in my writing, that he was the great Mogul.
How few have heard of the name of Vencat apadino Ragiu?
he imagined that there was no man in the world but knew
him, The Lord of kings, and fupreme Emperor. The titles
which he arrogated to himself, and put in his edicts were
theſe : "The ſpouſe of good fortune, king of great pro-
"vinces, king of the greatest kings, and God of kings,
"Lord of all the horſemen, maſter of thoſe who cannot
"fpeak, emperor of three emperors, conqueror of all he
"fees, and preferver of all he conquers formidable unto
"the eight regions of the world, Lord of the provinces
"which he overcomes, deſtroyer of the Mahometan armies,
"difpofer of the riches of Zeilan, He who cut off the head
"of the invincible Viravalano, Lord of the Eaft, South,
"North and Weft, and of the fea, hunter of elephants,
"He that lives and glories in his military valour. Theſe
"titles of honour, are enjoyed by the most excellent in
"warlike forces. Vencatapadino Ragiu, which rules and
governs this world." How many can tell me, before I
declare it here, that he was the king of Narfinga? If then
theſe warlike and potent princes are not known in Europe,
no more fhall Charles the Fifth, and the grand captain, and
many other excellent men in arms and literature, which have
flouriſhed in thefe parts, be known in Afia and Africa.
If we ſhall reflect upon the truth of thofe titles, which
many arrogate unto themfelves, we ſhall perceive them all
to be vain. How many are called highnefs and excellence,
who are of a baſe and abject ſpirit, and continue in mortal
fin, which is the meanest and lowest thing in the world?
How many are called Sereniffimi, who have their underſtand-
ing darkened, and their will perverted? Others call them-
felves most magnificent, with as much reafon as Nero might
be called most clement. This vanity hath proceeded fo far,
that men have not feared to ufurp thofe titles, which only
belong to God, and have thereupon raiſed great wars, and
flain innumerable people. Wherefore St. John faid, that the
beaſts which rofe out of the fea, had upon his head names of
blafphemy; and afterwards, that the purple beaft was full of
names of blafphemy, in regard of the blood that hath been
fpilt in the world for thoſe vain titles, and fome of them
contrary unto the effence of God, as the calling of Rome
eternal, and defying her emperor, which was no better than
blafphemy.
CAP. VI.
227
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
blafphemy. The things wherein we have placed honour
makes it most ridiculous. Some think they ſhould be valued
and eſteemed, becauſe they are strong: not remembring that
a hear, a bull, or a fumpter-mule is ftronger than they. Some
becauſe they are richly clad become mighty prond and puf
fsd up, not being afhamed to be more esteemed for the work
of a mechanic taylor, than for their virtuous actions. Others
think to he honoured for their difhonours, bragging of their
vices, murthers, and adulteries. Others boat of the nobi
lity of their blood, without looking upon virtue, and fo
make that a vice, which was to oblige them to noble acti-
ons, converting that which was to be their honour into infa-
my, valuing themfelves more for being noble than being
christians. A man is no greater than what he is in the eyes
of God; and the eſtimation which God hath of us, is not
for being born in a palace, but for being reborn in the water
of baptifm. What compariſon is there betwixt being born
of noble lineage, and being born from the fide of Jefus
Chrift? The penitent virgin Donna Sancha Corillo (c), ſo
often as ſhe affifted at baptifms, beheld Chriſt upon the
Crofs, with his fide open, and the child iffuing forth giving
us to underſtand the new birth we receive from the blood of
Chriſt in our chriftianity, for which God efteems men more
than for being born of finful blood. This birth is of diſho-
nour, that of honour; this of fin, that of holiness; this of
the fleſh which kills, that of the ſpirit which quickneth; by
this we are the fons of men, by that of God; by the birth
of the fleſh we are heirs of our fathers fortunes, but much
more of their miferies, for we are born finners; by the birth
of baptifm, we are the heirs of heaven, and for the prefent
we receive grace, and for the future glory. What an error
is it then to value ourſelves more for our humane birth, by
which we are made finners, than for our divine birth, by
which we are made juft? How foolish were he, who being
the fon of a king and a bond woman, fhould efteem himſelf
more for being the fon of a flave than of a monarch? More
fool is he who values more the nobility of his blood, in be-
ing a gentleman, than the nobility of his foul in being a
chriftian. Finally, all honours of the earth are but fuch, as
Matbatias told his fons, dung and corruption. St. Anfelme
compares thoſe who feek after honours, to boys who hunt
after butter-flics: Ifaias unto fpiders, which dif-embowel
themfelves
(c) Ro, in ejus vita lib.2..c. 1m
228
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
themſelves in framing a web, which is broken by the flies.
Yet for all this poornefs and bafenefs of honours, many fouls
have periſhed by them. If David curled the mountains of
Gelboe, becaufe Saul and Jonathan died upon them, with
much more reafon may we curfe the high mountains of
honour, upon which fo many fouls have been feen to perifh?
§. 2.
Let us now confider what riches are, unto whom St.
Gregory Nazianzen did much honour, when he called them.
a precious dung. Truly in themfelves they are not much
better. Gold and filver, faid Antoninus (d) the philofopher,
were nothing elſe than excrements and dregs of the earth:
that precious marbles were as corns and legs in the feet;
and generally he fays of the matter of all theſe things, that
they are nothing but duft and corruption. Plotinus faid,
that gold was nothing elſe but a vicious water: others that
it was yellow earth. What are precious ftones, but ſhining
pebbles, fome red, fome green, &c. Silk, but the flaverings
of worms? the fineft Hollands and pureft linens, but threads
of certain plants? Other webs of esteem are made of hair
of beaſts: whereof if we ſhould meet one in our meat, would
make us loath it: and many in their cloaths are proud of
them. Curious furs, what are they but the fkins of con-
temptible vermin? Civet, but the fweat of a cat near his
moſt noiſome parts? Amber, but the uncleanneſs of a
whale, or fomething which the fea purges from it," as not
worthy to be preſerved? Muſk, but the putrified and con-
gealed blood of a poor beaſt? What are poffeffions, palaces,
cities, provinces, and fpacious kingdoms? They are indeed
only toys of men, who, though old, are but children in ef
teeming fo much of them: aud this I fay, not comparing
them with things eternal. Lucian (e) beholding them not
from the empyrial heaven, but from the ſphere of the moon,
faid, All Greece poffeffed not above four fingers: and that
Peloponefus was not bigger than a lentil-feed. To Seneca
the whole compaſs of the earth feemed but a point; and all
the greatness there only matter of fport. St. Chryſoſome (f)
(d) In vita fua c. 9.
(e) Lucian in Icaromenip.
f) Hom. 24, in Mat,
| (1)
more
CAP. VI. the Temporal and Eternal.
229
more ferlouſly looking upon the fo much efteemed greatneſs
of this world, the brave palaces, renowned cities, large
kingdoms, compares them to thofe little houfes of fand or
dirt, made by children for their entertainment; which men
itand by and laugh at, and oftentimes, if their parents or
masters find that it hinders them from learning of their lef
fons, they ftrike them down with their feet, and destroy that
in a moment, which hath coft the boys much time and la-
bour. So God uſed to deal with thoſe, who negle&ting his
fervice, employ themſelves in fcraping together riches, en-
larging their poffeffions, building of palaces, strong forts,
and walled towns, which he destroys with that eafe, as if
they were thoſe little houfes of fand made by children. And
oertainly more children are they, who fet their hearts upon
the greatness of this fhort life, than thofe who bufy them-
felves in walls of dirt. This is of St. John Chryfoftome (g);
Who in another place faith, That if looking upon a table,
where we behold painted a rich and powerful man,
and a
poor and contemptible beggar, we neither envy the one,
nor defpife the other, becauſe we know them to be fhadows
and no truth: The fame judgment we ought to make of the
things themſelves: for all according to fcripture are little
more than nothing. And as in a comedy or farce, it im-
ports little who plays Alexander, and who the beggar, fince
all are equal when the play is done: So are all after death.
If Herod offered to a dancing girl, becauſe the pleaſed him,
the half of his kingdom, what was the whole worth? And
Aman, who poffeffed great wealth, confeffed he valued them
as nothing, ſo long as Mardochus did not reverence him.
The pleaſures of our palate (if we confider them) what
more vile and nafty? a capon, a hen, or a duck, which is
the ordinary food of rich men, if we but obferve their feed-
ing nothing would be more loathfome. If in your cooking
you fhould Aing into the pot, worms, grubs, horſe-dung, and
other fuch fluff, no body I believe would eat of it; and what
is a hen, but a veſſel filled with fuch uncleanness? Other
meats which are moft coveted by our fenfual belly-gods, if
they ſhould behold by what they are nouriſhed would cauſe
a loathing. The lamprey, which was the delicacy of the
Romans, feeds but upon mud and fluch. There is no meat
more neat and clean than bread, herbs and water, the food
of penitents.
(g) Hom. 14. de Avaritia.
How
230
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
How narrow is the ſphere of all our pleafures, which, be-
fides the ſhort time that they endure, are mingled with
worm wood of many pains and griefs, which accompany,
precede and follow them? The adulterer how many trou-
bles and dangers does he uſually pafs, before he compass his
defire in the enjoying what fears and fufpicions affault him?
and when it is paft, (if he thinks feriously of the fin) what re-
morſe and repentance affli&t him? and oftentimes how many
long difeafes and fharp pains, fucceed that which lafted but
a moment? Let us compare our pleaſures with the griefs
which follow them, and we fhall find thoſe far to ſurpaſs the
other. The feveral forts of gueſts, whereof the touch is ca-
pable, exceed not two or three; but the diftin&t fort of pains
which afflict it, are without number: The pain of the fciati-
ca, the stone, the gout, the tooth ach, the head-ach, befides
innumerable other griefs and violences moſt intenſe and hor-
rible, which follow the tortures invented by tyrants. The
greateſt pleaſure of the fenfe, holds no compariſon with the
grief endured by the feparation of a member, or the pain
fuffered by him who hath the ftone, fciatica, or ſome violent
diſeaſe in extremity.
§. 3.
Well may be feen the poverty and infufficiency of the
pleaſures of this life, in that our appetite ftill ftrives to en-
large them, by inventing new and artificial entertainments,
which by their multitude, may fupply the defects of thoſe
which are natural. Well may appear the irkfome wearineſs
of this life by all our endeavours, which aim at nothing
more, than to give it fome eaſe and relief. How many
kinds of curious ftuffs have been woven to pleaſe us in our
garments? what diverfity of eafy beds and couches have
been found out? what clofe chairs, litters and coaches have
with exceive coft and charges been invented? and the in-
vention of them is no fooner known, but we purfue it with
that pride and hafte, that they esteem themfelves unhappy
who enjoy them laft, although their ufe be no ways necef-
fary. The bishop of Pampelona (h), hiftoriographer to
Charles the Fifth writes, that in the year 1546, there were
no coaches in Spain: and that much about the fame time,
one
(b) Fra. Pruden. de Sandoval, Hift. de Car. 5. P. 2. 1. 28.
Sec. 36.
CAP. VI.
231
the Temporal and Eternal.
one being brought thither for the emperor's own perfon,
whole cities ran out to fee it, and admired it, as if it had
been a centaur or fome monfter. And now what more fre
quent? The invention, becauſe eaſy, was fo pleafing, that
in few years, people of very ordinary condition began to uſe
them: infomuch as it was thought fit, within a very ſhort
time after to prohibit them; which is more to be admired in
refpe&t of the fimple and homely way, which a little before
was uſed by the most eminent perfons. They write of the
Duke of Medina Sidonia, who for wealth and nobility, is
one of the greatest in Spain, that when he and the Dutchefs
went to visit our ladies de Regla, a church of great devotion
in Andalusia, they went in a cart drawn with oxen, which
was in the year 1540. Shortly after within five or fix years,
came the coach into Spain, whereof we have spoken, and
within nine or ten years, there was fuch a multitude of
them, that by a public edict in the year 1577, all coaches
with two horfes were forbidden, becauſe many of inferior
condition uſed them, both to the deſtruction of many fervice-
able horſes, and to the prejudice of their own wealth and
modefty. With fuch hafte doth our humane appetite, run
after what it conceives commodious, piercing out with art
that which feemed fhort in nature. The fame happened, as
Dio Caffius reports, with litters, which were brought into
Rome in the time of Julius Cæfar: but quickly, as Suetonius
reports, it was neceffary for the fame Julius Cæfar to forbid
them.
The ſame hath, and doth paſs in coftly apparel, which is
fo equal a diforder, that Tully doubts, whether it is more in-
decent for the nature of man, the ufe of coaches, or the cu-
riofity of garments, and calls them both impudent and
fhameleſs; And truly, as they are used by many, they are
no leſs.
The fame Cicero faid, that the Roman foldiers
counted their arms, as the members of their bodies, becauſe
they were no les troubled with the lofs of the one than the
other. The fame account many make of their neat and
curious garments: and are no lefs fenfible if their cloaths
chance to be difordered, than if they had a member broken
or out of joint. Macrobius writes of Quintus Hortenfius, a
Roman fenator, that he was fo curious in ordering his gar-
ments by a large looking-glaſs made on purpoſe, and difpo
fing, the plates of his gown, which he gathered after into a
quaint-knot after the Roman fashion, that being conful, and
going
232
The Difference betwixt
LI B. III.
going into the Forum in all this nice formality, accompanied
with his collegue, it happened that in a great prefs and croud
of people, his fellow conful chanced to diforder a little the
plates of his gown: which he took fo heinously, that he
commenced an action of offence against him, which the
Romans called de Injuria, as if he had broken his arm or
ſome other member. What fhall I fay of ornaments, fo
coftly and ſo fooliſh, that even the world itself feems to con-
demn them, in regard that being now glutted with the
garnitures of filk and gold, it falls to make embroideries of
ſtraw as if it had already learned and understood, that for
the uſe of garments, it is one and the fame thing to adorn
them with ſtraw, as with gold and filver; and for this reafon
laces and points made of ftraw, are made ufe of in lieu of
gold and filver?
But after the divers inventions of apparel, who can reckon
the ſeveral ways invented to pleaſe our ſenſes? The mixture
of feveral meats for the tafte? the confection of fweet-paftes
and perfumes for the fmell? the melodious mufic of divers
inftruments for the hearing? the games, pictures, and fhows
for the fight, which entertainments have been exhibited even
with the ſpilllng of huniane blood? Witnefs the Gladiators
of Rome, and the Bulls of Spain. All theſe variety of plea-
fures, which the appetite hath invented, are an evident fign
of the poverty and infufficiency of nature, fince all this mul-
titude of artificial contents doth not fatisfy it, nor in any fort
equal our natural griefs.
For fo flight a matter is loft a thing fo great, as is eterni-
ty. For theſe we abolish the law of God from our hearts,
and diſpleaſe our Redeemer, who would reward the con-
tempt of theſe poor and tranfitory pleafures of the earth,
with great and ſpecial favours from heaven. If we will not
therefore defpife them for what they are in themſelves, let
us at least mortify our affections for what is promiſed us
hereafter, and becauſe it is mot agreeable to God, and pro-
fitable for ourſelves, as may appear by this ftory related by
Glycas (i). A certain anchorite had lived forty years in
the defert, retired wholly from the world, and applying him-
felf with great obfervance of his profeffion, to the falvation
of his foul. A defire at laft entered into his mind, to know
who in the world was equal to himſelf in mortification.
Whereupon he befought God to reveal it unto him; and it
(i) Glycas & ex eo Rad. in Aula Sancta cap. 12.
pleafed
CAP. VI. 3
233
the Temporal and Eternal.
pleafed his Divine Majeſty to grant his request, and it was
anfwered him from heaven, that the emperor Theodofius,
notwithstanding that he was master of the greatest glory of
the world, yet was neither inferior unto him in humility,
nor in overcoming himself. The Hermit with this answer
moved by God, repaired unto the court, where he found
eaſy acceſs unto the courteous and religious emperor, unto
whom the fervants of God, and fuch as were famous for
fanctity of life, were always welcome. Not long after he
found means to ſpeak unto him, and know his holy exer-
cifes. At first he only acquainted him with common vir-
tues, That he gave large alms, That he wore hair-cloth,
That he fafted often, That he obferved conjugal chastity,
and that he caufed juſtice to be exa&ly obferved. Thefe
virtues feemed well unto the Hermit, efpecially in fuch a
perfon: but yet judged all this to be fhort of himself, who
had done thoſe things with greater perfection; For he had
renounced all, and given all he poffeffed for Chriſt, which
was more than to give alms; he never knew woman in his
life, which was more than to obferve conjugal chaſtity; he
never did injury or injuſtice unto any, which was more than
to cauſe it to be kept to others; his hair-cloth and faſts from
all forts of dainties were continual, which was more than to
abſtain ſome days from fleſh. Wherefore altogether unſa-
tisfied he further importuned the emperor, befeeching him
to conceal nothing from him; That it was the divine will,
that he ſhould acquaint him with what he did, and that
therefore he was fent unto him from God. The emperor
thus urged, faid unto him, Know then, that when I affiſt at
the horſe courfes, and fpectacles in the circus, where my
prefence is required, I fo withdraw my mind from thoſe va-
nities, that though my eyes be open, I fee them not.
Hermit remained aftonished at fo particular a mortification
in fo great an emperor, and perceived that fceptres and pur-
ple could not hinder a devout prince from mortification of
his affections, and meriting much with God Almighty.
Theodofius further added, Know alſo that I fuftain myself by
my labour; for I tranfcribe certain parchments into a fair
hand, which being fold, the price pays for my food. With
this example of poverty amongst fo much riches and tempe-
rance, in the midst of fo great dainties, the Hermit was
wholly amazed, and learned that abſtinence from eaſe and
pleafuses of this life, was that which made this religious
prince
G g
The
234
LIB. III.
The Diffrence betwixt
prince fo gracious and acceptable unto our Lord. Finally,
ſo perverſe are the delights of the world, that though lawful,
yet they hinder much our fpiritual proficiency, and if un-
lawful, are the total ruin of our fouls.
§. 4.
What ſhall we then ſay of the royal and imperial dignity,
which feems in humane judgment, to embrace all the hap-
piness of the world? Honours, riches and pleaſures, all are
contained in it. But how fmall is a kingdom, fince the
whole earth in refpect of the heavens is no bigger than a
point and certainly neither honours, riches or pleafures.
are greater or more fecure than we have deſcribed them.
Let us hear St. Chryfoftome speak of the emperor of his
time (k). "Look not upon the crown, faith he, but upon
"that tempeſt of cares which accompany it. Fix not thy
eyes upon the purple, but upon the mind of the King,
"more ſad and dark than the purple itſelf. The diadem
" doth not more encompaſs his head, than cares and ſuſpi-
"cions his foul. Look not at the fquadrons of his guard,
"but at the armies of moleftations which attend him; for
"nothing can be fo full of cares as the palaces of Kings.
"Every day they expect not one death, but many; nor
can it be faid, how often in the night their hearts trem-
"ble with fome fudden fright, and their fouls almoſt ſeem
to forfake their bodies, and this in the time of peace.
"But when a war is kindled, what life fo miferable as
66
theirs? how many dangers happen unto them, even from
"their friends and fubjects? The floor of the royal palace
" is drowned in the blood of their kindred. If i ſhall
"mention thoſe which have happened heretofore and now
❝of late, thou wilt easily know them. This fufpe&ting his
"wife, tied her naked in the mountains, and left her to
"be devoured by wild beasts, after ſhe had been a mother
of divers kings. What a life had that man; it being
"impoffible he fhould execute fuch a revenge, unleſs his
"fick heart had been eaten and confumed with jealoufy?
"This put to death his only fon. This killed himſelf be-
"ing taken by the tyrant. This murthered his nephew,
"after he had made him his companion in the empire.
"This his brother, who died by poifon; and his innocent
(k) Hom, 66. ad pop.
"fon
CAP. VI.
235
the Temporal and Eternal.
"fon ended his life only for what he might have been. Of
"thoſe princes which followed, one of them was with his
"flaves and chariots miferably burned alive; and it is not
66
poffible for words to exprefs the calamities which he was
"forced to endure. And he, which now reigns, hath he
not, ſince he was crowned fuffered many troubles, dan-
gers, griefs and treafons? but in Heaven it is not fo."
After this manner St. Chryfoftome, paints forth the greatest
fortune of the world, the imperial majeſty, which muſt needs
be little, fince it is fo unhappy, that it fuffers.not to enjoy
thoſe frail goods of the earth in fecurity, but makes the poſ
feffors oftentimes perish before them. But it is far otherwiſe
in Heaven, the palace and houſe of God; where the juft
without mixture or counterpoife.of mifery, are to enjoy thofe
goods eternal, as we fhall fee in its proper place.
Lastly, let us learn from hence, not to admire the great-
neſs of this world, nor to defire the benefit of it; which
leffon was well taught by St. Spiridian unto his. difciple, who
accompanying him one time unto the court of the emperor,
fuffered himself to be tranfported with thofe which he be-
held. The greatneſs and luftre of the court, the rich gar-
ments, jewels, pearls and precious ftones, dazzled the eyes
of the raw and unexperienced youth: but above all the
fight of the emperor, feated in his imperial throne with fo
much fplendor and greatneſs, almoſt drew him befide him-
telf. St. Spiridion willing one day to corre&.his error, aſked
him, (as if he had not known it) Which of thoſe were the
emperor. His difciple not reaching his intention, pointing
with his finger, fimply told him, That was he. And where-
fore replied the faint, is this man more to be esteemed than
the reft? is it perhaps, becauſe he is more virtuous ? or is it
becauſe he is adorned with more exterior luftre and bravery?
is not he likewife to die, as well as the most poor and un-
known beggar? is he not to be buried? is he not as well as
the reſt of men, to ap ear before the juft Judge.? Wherefore
dost thou admire that which hath no confiftence? It were
fitter for thee to place thy eyes and heart upon things eternal
and incorruptible, and to be enamoured of thofe, which are
not ſubject to change and death.
▸
勵
​¡
The fame difciple of Spiridion, being now Bishop, tra-
velled one time with his mafter, who was then alfo Arch-
bishop of Trimitunte; and as they came to a certain place,
where the fields were very fertile and pleasant, the difciple
being
236.
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
being much taken with them, began to caft within himſelf,
how he might compafs an inheritance in that good country,
and lay it to his church. The faint, who understood his
thoughts, gave him this fweet and gentle reprehenfion. To
what purpoſe, dear brother, dost thou trouble thy thoughts
with things fo vain and of fo little fubftance? Wherefore
dost thou defire land and vineyards to labour and cultivate?
doſt thou not know, that theſe things are only of an out-
ward appearance, and within are nothing, or at least are
worth nothing? We have an inheritance in Heaven, which
none can take from us; There we have a houfe not made
by the hands of men. Look after thofe goods, and begin
now even before the time, by the virtue of hope to enjoy
them. Thofe goods are of that condition, that if you once
poffefs them, and make yourſelf Lord of them, you shall be
then their eternal heir, and your inheritance ſhall never pafs
to others. Let one place himſelf in the point of death, and
let him from thence, on the one part, behold the littleneſs
of all things temporal, which are now paft, and on the o-
ther, the greatnefs of eternity, whereinto he enters, which
ſhall never paſs, and he fhall eafily diſcover how all the
greatnefs and commodities of this life, are for their littleneſs
and ſhort endurance, rather worthy of laughter than admi-
ration.
}
C A P. VII.
How miferable a thing is this temporal Life..
LET us alfo confider more particularly the fubftance and
bulk of humane life, which we fo much efleem, and
we ſhall not a little wonder how ſo many and fo great mis-
fortunes can happen in fo fhort a ſpace. Whereupon Pha-
laris the Agregentin, was uſed to fay, That if a man before
he was born, knew what he was to fuffer in life, he would
not be born at all For this reafon fome philofophers, re-
penting that they lived, would blaſpheme nature, railing at
it with a thouſand complaints and injuries, becauſe to the
beſt of living things, it had given fo bad and wretched a
life: not reaching fo high, as to know that this was an ef
fe&
CAP. VII.
237
the Temporal and Eternal.
fect of the fault of man, and not a fault of nature or divine
providence. Pliny would fay, That nature was but a ſtep-
mother to mankind; and Silenus being demanded, what was
the greatest happineſs man was capable of, faid, Not to be
born, or die quickly. The great philofopher and emperor
Marcus Aurelius (1), confidering humane mifery, ſpake in
this difcreet manner: "The war of this life is dangerous,
"and the end and iffue of it fo terrible and dreadful, that I
am certain, that if any of the ancients fhould riſe again,
"and recount unto us faithfully, and give us a view of his
"life past, from the time he came out of his mother's
"womb, unto his last gasp, the body relating at large, the
66
pains and griefs it hath fuffered, and the heart the alarms
"it hath received from fortune, that all men would be
“amazed at a body that had endured fo much, and at a
"heart, that had gained fo great a victory, and diffembled
"it. I here confefs freely, and although to my fhame, yet
"for the profit that may redound to future ages, that in the
"fpace of fifty years, which I have lived, I have defired to
prove the utmoſt of all the vices and exceffes of this life,
to ſee if the malice of man had any bounds and limits;
and I find after long and ferious inquifition, that the more
"I eat, the more is my hunger: and the more I drink, the
"greater is my thirst: if I fleep much, the more is my de-
"fire to fleep: the more I reſt, the more weary and indif
poſed I find myſelf: the more I have, the more I covet,
" and the more I grafp, the lefs 1 hold. Finally, I attain
"to nothing, which doth not furfeit and cloy me, and then
"C
preſently I abhor it, and defire fomething elſe." This is
the judgment of philofophers, concerning the miſeries of
man's life. The fame is that of the wife man, when he ſays,
All the days of man are full of grief and mifery; neither do
bis thoughts reft at night. With reafon did Democritus fay,
(m) That the life of man was moſt miferable, fince thoſe
who feek for good, hardly find it, and evil comes of itſelf,
and enters our gates unfought for; infomuch, as our life is
always expofed unto innumerable dangers, injuries, loffes,
and fo many infirmities, that according to Pliny and many
Phyficians, Greeks and Arabians, there were more than
thirty feveral forts of new difeafes, difcovered in the fpace of
a few years; and now every day they find out others, and
fome
(1) Aurel. Anton. in fua Philofopb.
(m) Stob. fer. 96.
238
LIB III.
The Difference betwixt
fome ſo cruel, as they are not to be named without horror.
Neither fpake I only of the infirmities, but of their remedies.
For even griefs known and common, are cured by cauteri-
zing with fire, by fawing off a member, by tripanizing the
fcull, or drawing bones from it. Some have been cured with
the opening the belly, and drawing forth the guts. Orhers
by reaſon of the great malice of the diſeaſe, are cured with
fo ſtrange diets, that the fick perfons (as Cornelius Celfus
writes) have for very thirst drank their urine, and eaten their
plaifters for raging hunger. Others are preſcribed to eat.
fnakes, mice, worms, and other loathfome vermin. But
above all the cure of Palæologus the Second, emperor of
Conftantinople, was most cruel and extravagant: whole infir-
mity after a year's continuance, found no other remedy, but
to be continually vexed and difpleafed, his wife and fervants,
who most defied his health, having no ways to restore it,
but by disobedience, ftill croffing and oppofing him in what
he most defired a harsh cure for a prince. If remedies be
fo great evils, what are the infirmities? The fickness of
Angelus Politianus was fo vehement, that he knocked his
head against the walls: That of Mecenas fo strange, that
he ſlept not, nor cloſed his eyes in three whole years: That
of Antiochus ſo peftilential, that his loathfome fmell infected
his whole army, and his body (as hath been faid) flowed
with lice and vermin. Confider here the end of majesty,
when the greateſt power of the earth cannot defend itfelf
againſt ſo noiſome and fo contemptible an enemy. In the
fame manner Feretrina, Queen of the Barceans, all the flesh
of her body turned into maggots and grubs, that fwarming
every where, at laft confumed her. Some have had ferpents
bred in their arms and thighs, which have devoured their
fleſh, even whilft they lived. With reaſon then does man
enter into the world with tears, as divining the many mile-
ries, which he ſhall have time enough to fuffer, but not to
lament, and therefore begins to weep fo early.
W
§. 2.
Strange Pefilences.
HAT fhall Ifay of thoſe ſtrange peftilential infirmi-
ties, which have deftroyed whole cities and provinces ?
Many authors write, that in Conftantinople there happened
fo
CAP. VII.
239
the Temporal and Eternal.
fo strange a plauge, that thofe, who were infected with it,
thought they were killed by their next neighbours, and fall--
ing into this frenzy, died raging with fear and imagination,
that they were murthered by their friends. In the time of
Heraclius, there was fo mortal a pestilence in Romania, that
in a few davs many thouſands died, and the greater part of
thoſe who were ftruck, Aung themſelves into the river, to
affwage that exceffive heat, which like a fire, burned their
entrails. Thucidides a Greek author writes, that in his time
there was ſuch a corruption of the air, that an infinity of
people died, and no remedy could be found to mitigate that
difafter; and which was moft ftrange, if any by good hap
recovered, they remained without memory at all of what
was paſt: infomuch as the fathers forgot their fons, and huſ-
bands their wives. Marcus Aurelius, an author worthy of
credit, fpeaks of a plague in his time, fo great in Italy, that
it was eaſier to number the quick than the dead. The foldi
ers of Avidius Caffius, being in Seleucia, a city within the
territories of Babylon, entered into the temple of Apollo, and
finding there a coffer, which they imagined might contain
fome treaſure, opened it, from whence iffued fo peftilential
and corrupted an air, that it infected the whole region of
Babylon, and from thence paffed into Greece, and fo to Reme,
ftill corrupting the air as it went, infomuch as the third part
of mankind remained not alive.
The calamities of the times nearer ours, have been no
lefs. For as our fins decreaſe not, ſo the juſtice of God in
puniſhing us flacks not. A year after Francis King of France,
was married to Donna Leonora of Auftria, there reigned in
Germany a ſtrange infirmity; thofe who were infected with
it, fweating forth a peftilential humour, died within four
and twenty hours. It began in the Wef, but paffing after-
wards into Germany, it raged with fuch fury, as if it meaned
to extirpate all mankind; for before any remedy could be
found, there died fo many thouſands of people, that many
towns and provinces remained defert. Such was the putre-
faction of the air, that it left almoft nothing alive; and
thoſe few that remained in fign of penance, and to avert
the wrath of God, went figned with red croffes. They
write, that it was fo violent in England, that not only men
died, but birds left their nefts, their eggs and young ones,
the wild beats quitted their dens, and fnakes and moles,
were feen to go in companies and troops, not being able to
endure
1
240
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
:
endure the poiſon, encloſed in the bowels of the earth; and
many creatures were found in heaps dead under trees, their
bodies broken out into blanes and botches. The year 1546,
the laft of May, began in Stix, (a city of Provence) a most
mortal peftilence, which lafted nine months; in which died
an infinite number of people of all ages; infomuch as the
church-yards were fo full of dead bodies, as there was no
room left to bury others. The greateſt part of thoſe who
were infected, the fecond day became frantick, and flung
themſelves out of windows, or into wells; others fell into a
flux of blood at the nofe, which if they ftaunched, they in-
ftantly died. Married-women became abortive, or at four
months end they, and what they went with died, whom
they found covered over with fpots, fomething blewith on
one fide, which feemed like blood fprinkled over their body.
The evil was fo great, that fathers forfook their children,
and women their huſbands; riches did not preſerve them
from dying of hunger, a pot of water being not fometimes
to be had for money. If they found by chance what to eat,
the fury of the fickneſs was fuch, as they often died with
the morfel in their mouths. The contagion became fo great,
that many took it by being only looked upon; and the air
of the city was fo corrupted by the grievous heat of this pef-
tilential evil, that wherefoever the fteam of it came, it raiſed
great bliſters, mortal fores, and carbuncles. O how mon-
trous and horrible a thing it is, to hear the relation of the
phyfician, who was appointed for the cure and government of
the fick This infirmity, faith he, was ſo ſharp and perverſe,
that neither bleeding, purging, treacles, nor other cordials.
could ſtay it; it killed and bore down all before it, infomuch
as the only remedy which the infected perſons hoped for,
was death, of which being certain, fo foon as they found
themſelves ill, they began to make their winding-fheets; and
there were ten thouſand who wore them, whilft they yet
lived, knowing certainly, that the remedy and end of their
evil was to die: and in this manner flood, expe&ting the
departure of the foul, and the fearful feparation of the two
fo dear friends and companions: which he affirms to have.
feen in many perfons; eſpecially in one woman, who calling
him at her window, to appoint fomething for her infirmity,
he ſaw ſewing her winding fheet; and not long after, thoſe
who were appointed to inter the dead, entering the houſe,
found her ftretched out upon the floor, her winding-ſheet not
yet
CAP. VII.
241
the Temporal and Eternal.
ver finished. To all this is humane life ſubject. Let thoſe
therefore, who are in health and jollity, fear what may be-
fall them.
§. 3.
Notable Famines.
FA
AMINE is no lefs a mifery of man's life than peftilence,
which not only particular perfons, but whole provinces
have often ſuffered. Such was that which afflicted the Ro-
mans, when Alaricus that arch enemy of mankind, after the
deſtruction of all Italy, besieged Rome. The Romans came
to that poverty, famine, and want of all things, that having
nothing left of that which men commonly uſe to eat, they
began to feed on horfes, dogs, cats, rats, dormice, and
other vermin, where they could lay hold on them; and
when thoſe failed, they eat one another. A horrible condi-
tion of humane nature, that when God ſuffers us to fall into
thofe ftraights, our neceffity forced us to feed upon our own
kind. Nay, fathers fpare not their fons, nor women thoſe,
whom they have brought forth. The fame happened in the
fiege of Jeruſalem, as Eufebius recounts in his ecclefiaftical
hiftory. At the fiege of Numantia, when Scipio had cut off
all provifions from entering the town, the inhabitants fell
into that mortal and dog-like famine, that every day they
fallied forth to catch Romans, as if they had hunted after
wild beasts. Thoſe whom they took, they fed upon their
fleſh, and drank their blood, as if they had drank fountain-
water, or fed upon kid. They pardoned none; but ſuch as
fell into their hands, were cut in quarters, and fold by pieces
publicly in the butchery; infomuch as the fleſh of a dead
Roman, was of greater value than the ranſom of a live one.
In the fourth book of Kings, there is mention made of a fa-
mine in Samaria, in the time of Elizeus the prophet, which
moft exceeds this. The want of food was fo great, that the
head of an als was fold for 80 pieces of filver, and the fourth
part of a fmall meaſure of pidgeons-dung for 5 pieces. The
moft lamentable and inhumane was, that having ſpent all
their provifion, women eat their own children; and one
woman complained to the king of Ifrael, that her neighbour
had broken an agreement made betwix them, which was,
That they should firft eat her child, and, that done, the
Hh
others.
242
LIB. III
The Difference betwixt
others. I, fays fhe, have complied with my obligation, and
we have already eaten mine, and now the hath hid hers,
and denies me my part.
Which the king hearing, rent his
garments, and was ftruck with unfpeakable forrow. Jole-
phur (n) in the ſeventh book of the wars of the Jews, re.
lates a story much like unto this, but executed with more
fury, and after a more ftrange manner. There was, faith
he, in Jerufalem, when it was befieged, a lady rich and
noble, who had hid in a houfe of the city, the most part of
her wealth, and of the rest lived fparingly, and with great
moderatlon. But he was not fuffered to do fo long; for the
foldiers of the garrifon difcovering her stock, in a ſhort time
bereaved her both of what ſhe had within doors and with-
out; and if the chanced at any time to be relieved by friends,
or beg fome little thing to affwage her hunger, they would
take it from her, and tear the morfel out of her mouth. See-
ing herſelf therefore deftitute of all hope or counſel, and
certain to die of hunger, and no poffible remedy left for her.
neceffities, he began to arm herself against the laws of na-
ture, and beholding the infant which hung at her breaft,
The cried out in this manner; O unhappy fon, of a more
unhappy mother! how fhall I now difpole of thee? where
fhall I preferve thee? things are driven to that exigent, that
though I fave thy life from famine, thou art certain to be a
flave to the Romans. Better
Better it is, my fon, that thou now
fuftain thy mother, who gave thee being, and ftrike a terror
into thofe curled foldiers, who have left me no other way of
fubfifting; better that thou become an argument of pity
unto future ages, and raile forrow in hearts not yet born.
At these words, the cut the throat of her tender infant, di-
vided it in the middle, roafted one half, and eat it, and laid
afide the rest for another meal. She had no fooner ended
this lamentable tragedy, but the foldiers entered; who fmel-
ling the roafted flesh, began to threaten the woman with
dearh, if the difcovered not her flore. But ſhe diſtracted
with rage and horror of her act, and defiring nothing more
than to accompany her dead infant, without fear, or being
abashed at all, replied in this manner: Peace friends, we
will ſhare like brothers: and faying this, the fetched the half
child, and placed it upon the table before them. At which
hideous fight, the foldiers being amazed and confounded,
conceived fo great horror and compaffion in their hearts,
(n) Jofeph. 1. 7. de bel. Jud. c. 2.
that
CAP. VIL
243
the Temporal and Eternal.
that they were not able to utter one word; but the to the
contrary, staring upon them with a wild countenance, full
of fury and diftraction, with a hoarfe and broken voice,
pake in this manner; Why, how now maſters, how comes
this to paſs? is not this my fon, the fruit of my own body?
is not this my act? why do ye not then eat, fince I have
begun unto you? are you perhaps more nice than a wo-
man? are you more fcrupulous than the mother which bore.
it? for fhame fall to; it is I who have eaten of it first, and
'tis I will bear you company in eating of the relt. But they
not being able to behold fo horrible a ſpectacle, fed out of
doors, and left the miferable mother with that little, which
remained of her ſon, and all her wealth.
Unto theſe ſtories, I ſhall add one more lamentable, in
which will clearly appear, unto what calamity humane life.
ftands expofed. It is writen by William Parain, a man of
great learning and diligence, in a treatiſe of things memo-
rable in his time. He relates it thus: In the year 1528,
men were grown fo diffolute in their lives, and fo given over
to all forts of wickedness, that notwithstanding thofe cruel
and bloody wars, which then reigned in moft parts of Eu-
rope, they humbled not themſelves, nor converted unto their
Lord God, but became every day worſe, and fell into that
extremity of vice and miſchief, that God being offended,
let loose the fharp arrows of his wrath and vengeance againſt
the realm of France, with fuch fury, that all men thought,
the final deftru&tion of that kingdom was then come. The
want of corn, wine, and other fruits of the earth, and the
miferies and calamities of thofe times were fuch, as no re-
cords ever mention the like. For five continued years, be-
ginning at the year 1528, the four ſeaſons of the year never
kept their due and natural course, but were in that confuft
on and diforder, that fometimes autumn came in fpring,
and fpring in autumn, fummer in winter, and winter in
fummer; only the unnatural fummer feemed to overcome
the rest of the parts of the year, and the heat doubled his
forces against his enemy the cold: infomuch as in Decem-
ber, January and February, when the cold ought to feafon
and mellow the earth with froft and fnow, the heat was fo
excelfive, that the ground was parched and burned up;
which was a moft prodigious thing to behold. In all thofe
five years, there were no two days together of hard weather:
neither thoſe ſo intenſe, as to glaze the waters with the least
7.9
Mew
!
244
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
fhew of ice, by which exceffive heat were bred in the bowels
of the earth, an infinite number of vermin, fuails, grubs,
worms, hzards, and other creatures, which eat up the young
and tender corn in the herb, and much of it was devoured
and confumed in the husk before it fprung up: which was
the reaſon, that wheat, which uſes to ſprout up divers ftems
from one grain, hardly put forth one or two, and thoſe to
abortive, weak and dry, that in reaping time they gathered
not half ſo much as they fowed, aud fometimes nothing at
all. This famine latted without ceaſe or intermiſſion five
whole years; a thing fo lamentable, that it is impoffible for
them to imagine who have not feen it. The people were ſo
oppreffed and afflicted with this mortal hunger, and many
other evils which accompanied it, that it was pitiful to be-
hold. For many who were rented men, and reaſonable well
to paſs, left their houfes and granges, and went from door
to door like wanderers, begging an alms for God's fake.
Every day the number of the poor increaſed in ſuch a man-
ner, as it was fearful to behold them, going up and down in
troops impoffible to remedy, and dangerous to fuffer. For
befides the fear and hazard of being robbed, to which necef-
fity might without fin enforce them, the air was filled with
ſtench and corruption from their breaths and bodies. To
affwage their hunger, they filled themfelves with all forts of
herbs good and bad, wholefome and poiſonous; they ran-
facked all gardens and orchards, not fparing fo much as the
roots and ſtalks of cabbages, and of them found not enough
to fatisfy their ravenous appetites; and failing of pot-herbs,
in the gardens, they fell upon thofe which grew wild in the
fields. Many of them boiled great cauldrons full of mallows
and thistles, mingling with them a little bran, if they could
get it; and with this stuffed their bellies like porks. It was
a wonderful thing to fee their many exquifite inventions of
making bread of feeds of herbs, of roots, of fearn, of a-
corns, of hay-feeds, forced and taught by hunger, the mil
trefs of the flothful: verifying that, which is commonly
faid, want and neceffity makes men feek out remedies not
thought on, as it made thofe miferable people, feeing hogs
feed upon the roots of fearn, to try whether they could
make bread of it, robbing the food even from fwine to fuf-
tain themſelves; which evidently demonftrates the wrath of
God, againſt the impurity and filthinefs of our fins, fince
he permits men to fall into that neceffity, as to feed and feaſt
with
CAP. VII.
245
the Temporal and Eternal.
with thofe unclean creatures. From hence were ingendered
many forts of infirmities: great companies of men, women,
boys and girls, young and old, of all ages, went up and
down the ſtreets naked, pale, fhivering with cold, fome
fwoln like drums with dropfies, others ftretched upon the
ground half dead, and ready to draw the laft gafp, and of
ſuch the ſtables and dunghills were full; others trembled as
if they were infected with quick-filver, fo as they appeared
more like unto ghoſts and fantoms than living men. But
above all the greateſt pity was to behold thouſands of wo-
men, feeble, pale, and hunger starved, charged with an in-
finite number of their poor languishing infants, which dried
up with hunger, could not lo much as weep, or demand
fuccour from their forrówful and afflicted mothers, who
could only help them with their pitiful and compaffionate.
looks, of which rivers of tears which ran from their eyes were
a fufficient witness; and this certainly was the most lament-
able ſcene of this milerable tragedy. The fame William
Paradin writes, that in Lonbans, a town of Burgandy, he
beheld a poor woman, who with all the diligence he could
ule, had gotten a little morfel of black bread, which when
the was about to have eaten, her infant unto whom ſhe gave
fuck, a boy of about a year old, who had never until then
caten a bit, fnatched it out of her hand: at which the for-
rowful mother admiring, heheld with what greedinefs he
devoured that little piece of dry bread, as favourily as if it
had been a March pane: which when he had eaten, the
mother picked up the crumbs that fell from his mouth, in-
tending to eat them herfelf, but the infant fell into fo great
unquietness, and fo violent a fit of crying, that he was for-
ced to leave them; and truly it feemed the child knew the
fcarcity of that kind of food, and was therefore unwilling of
a companion. What heart fo hard and inhumane, that
would not burst at the fight of o rueful a fpectacle? The
fame author further writes, That in another village near un-
to this, two women not finding any thing wherewith to af-
fwage their hunger, filled themſelves with fea-onions, not
knowing the property of that venomous herb, which in fuch
a manner poiſoned them, that the extremities of their hands
and feet became green as the ſkin of a lizard, and a corrupt
matter flowed from betwixt their nails and flesh, for which
not receiving help fo foon as was requifite, they both died.
There was no creature which became not an executioner of
the
246
LIB III.
The Difference betwixt
the wrath of God. The poor labourers left their lands and
inheritances, in hope to be relieved by the rich, who had
long fince heaped up great quantities of corn in their grana-
ries: from whom at the firft they bought bread at exceffive
rates, afterwards, money failing, they fold and pawned
their lands and inheritances, for vile and low prices: for
that which was worth an hundred crowns, was fold for ten.
Such was the abominable and greedy avarice of the uſurers;
as if it were not enough for the poor to be fcourged by the
wrath of God, and to have the elements and creatures de-
clared their enemies, but men themſelves must become their
hang-men, and perfecute and afflict their own kind. The
extortioners perceiving the defired occafion, which the per-
verfenefs of the time offered them, loft it not, but had bro-
kers and factors in the villages to buy the inheritances of the
poor, at what price they pleaſed; which the afflicted wil-
lingly parted with, that they might have wherewith to eat;
and together with it, fold their cattle and houfhold-ftuff,
and the very neceffaries of their perfons: and would with
all their hearts, have pawned their bowels, to have had
wherewith to feed them. Befides this, many of thern faw
not their wheat meaſured, and were forced to take it as the
ſellers pleaſed, who were no julter in their meaſure than the
price. There were fome ufurers, that bought a piece of land
for less money than the notaries would take for drawing the
writings. After all this the poor peasants faw themfelves,
their wives and children caft out of their houfes, and to die
in hofpitals. All thofe miferies, which fall not under imagi-
nation, are found in the life of man.
G
§. 4.
Evils of War.
REATER than all theſe calamities, is that of war,
I which of the three fcourges of God, where with he ufes
to chaltile kingdoms, is the most terrible, as well becauſe it
is commonly followed by the two other, as for that it brings
along with it greater punishments, and which is worſe, grea-
ter fins, whereof plagues are free, in which all endeavour to
be reconciled with God, and even thoſe who are in health,
diſpoſe themſelves for death. The peftilence is fent by God,
who is all goodness and mercy, not paffing through the hands
of
CAP. VII.
247
the Temporal and Eternal.
of men, as wars do. Wherefore David held it for à mercy,
that his people fuffered peftilence and not war, becauſe he
judged it better to fall into the hands of God than men.
Famine alfo, although it brings with it fome fins, yet it lef
fens others; though it be accompanied with many thefts, yet
it fuits not ſo much with pride and vanity, neither doth it
permit fo many forts of vices as are occafioned by war. To
repreſent the calamities of war, it fhall be fufficient to inftance
in fome of thoſe which have been inflicted upon Germany in our
own times, in theſe late wars. A book whereof was fet forth
in another country: whofe argument or title I repeat not,
(it is known) but it could not give an account of all. I
Thall only pick out fome few of them, fetting a-part thofe
places which were dif-peopled and burned, whereof there
were 2000 towns only in the dukedom of Bavaria. The
cruelties, which the conquering foldiers inflicted upon the
poor people, only to difcover where their wealth lay, are fuch
as were never heard of. One of their torments was, to tie a
piece of match about their fore heads, and with a ſtick, fo
to ftreighten and fcrew their temples, that the blood would
often burſt forth, and fometimes the very eyes and brains
would ftait forth of their broken fculls. Others they left up-
on the floors of their houſes, or ftretched out upon a table,
bound hand and foot, and fo expofed them to be eaten by
hungry dogs and cats ; and it often happened that the ſtarved
cats would tear their bellies, and feed upon their tripes and
entrails. Others they hung up by the hands, fome diſtance
from the ground, and kindled a fire under them: Unto
others they chopped off their nofes and ears with chifels,
and wore them in their hat-bands, holding it for a great gal-
lantry, and him for the braveft man, who was the cruellest
beast. Unto others they poured water into their mouths by
a tunnel, until they had filled their bodies like a tun, and
then fat or ſtamped upon their bellies, until they made the
water guſh out at their mouths and noftrils: Others they
tied unto a poſt, and flead them alive like St. Bartholomew.
From fome they plucked out gobbets of flesh with pincers;
others they quartered and tore in pieces alive. They forced
divers women, and after cut off their arms. Many were fo
barbarous as to eat children; and one was known to take a
fmall infant, and holding it by one leg with his left hand,
to tear it aſunder with his right, and fo to eat and fuck the
blood of it. The prifoners which they took, they bound
not
248
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
not their hands, but made holes through their arms, and.
putting cords through them, dragged them after their horfes.
The bodies of men, after they had drawn out their guts and
entrails, ferved as mangers wherein to feed their horſes.
They robbed all, killed and burned men in their houſes;
and fome grave magiftrates, whofe lives they fpared, were
mnade to ferve and wait bare-headed at table upon the mean.
eft foldiers. Many, that they might not fee and fuffer thofe
miferies, poifoned themſelves; and divers maids, flying
from the foldiers luft, caft themfelves head long into rivers
and were drowned. To thefe miferies of war, were added
peftilence and famine. Thoſe who fled from the enemy,
died of the plague or hunger in the cp:n fields: and there
was none to bury them, but dogs and ravenous birds which
eat there. Neither had thofe who died in houfes, a more
honourable tepulchre, but were like wife devoured by rats.
and vermip, who were grown fo bold, as fometime, if they
were but one or two in a houſe, to eat them whilſt they
lived, their weakneſs being ſuch as they were not able to
defend themſelves. But the men in many places were re-
venged of this affront, and eat the rats, of which there were
public ſhambles, where they were fold at high prices. Thofe
cities were eſteemed happy, which had fuch dainties to fell;
in other places nothing was to be had but what every one
provided by his own diligence. They often went together
by the ears about a rat, and cut one another in pieces in the
quarrel and happy was he, that got a quarter of fuch loath-
fome vermin. Hofe-flesh was a great dainty, and they el-
teemed themſelves very fortunate, who knew where to light
on a dead pack horfe. Certain women found a dead wolf,
all putrified and full of worms, and fed upon it a favourily
as if it had been a kid. The bodies of malefactors, who
hung upon gibbets were not fecure, nor did the dead eſcape
that were buried in their grave; both were ftoien in the
night, to futain the living. Neither were they free from
this danger who were alive; for two women were known to
kill a third and eat her. After fuch fresh examples, it will
not need to call to memory the calamities of former wars.
What is faid is fufficient to exprefs the miferies which are
incident to humane lite.
•
§. 5.
CAP. VII. the Temporal and Eternal.
249
§. 5.
Miſeries occafioned by humane Paffions.
ABOVE all, the greateft calamities of man's life are not
peftilence, famine or war, but humane paffions not
ſubordinate to reaſon. Wherefore St. John Chryfoftome (0)
fays; "Amongst all evils, man is the most evil. Every
"beaft hath an evil, which is ptoper and peculiar unto it,
"but man is all evils. The devil' dares not approach a juſt
man: but man dares defpife him. And in another place.
"to the fame purpoſe (p). Man is compared to the beaſts
"of the field. It is worfe to be compared to a beaſt, than
"to be one; for it is no fault to be born an unreaſonable
creature, but to be endued with reaſon, and to be com-
pared to a beaſt, is a fault of the will; fo as our untamed
paffions make us worse than beaſts." It is not credible
what one man fuffers from the paffions of another. What
did David ſuffer from the envy of Saul? Exile, hunger,
dangers and war. Naboth fooner loft his life by the cove-
touſneſs of Achab, than he could have done by a plague.
Elias was more afflicted with the defire of revenge in Jezabel
than if he had had the peftilence; for that made him weary
of his life, and this would but have made him weary of his
diſeaſe. What plagues, or wars, or tortures were like the
ambition of Herod, which deftroyed fo many thouſand chil-
dren? What contagion was more mortal than the cruelty
of Nero, and other tyrants, who took away the lives of fo
many innocent people, to fatisfy their fears or fancies?
Wherefore Tully fays (q); " Our defires are infatiable,
"and do not only deſtroy particular perfons, but entire fa-
"milies, and ruin the whole common-wealth. From defires
"fpring hatred, diffentions, difcords, feditions and wars."
What forts of death and torments have not hatred and hu-
mane cruelty found out? What forts of poifon hath not the
paffion of man invented? Orpheus, Orus, Medefius, Helio-
dorus, and other authors, have found five hundred feveral
ways of giving poiſon hiddenly: which have fince been en-
creaſed by others. But in respect of what is this day known
and practifed they were ignorant. Nothing is now fecure,
(0) Chryf. in Mat. (q) Cicero de finibus.
(p) Hom. in Afcen.
| (9)
I i
fince
250
LIB. III
The Difference betwixt
1
fince poifon hath been given, even in the fhaking of hands,
when we were to be reconciled and made friends. Only in the
fenfe of hearing, it hath not yet found a door to enter: all
the rest of the fenfes it hath maſtered: with the fmell of a
rofe, with the fight of a letter, with the touch of a thread,
with the tale of a grape, death hath found an entrance.
There is nothing brings more miſery upon a man than his
paffions, with which he pardons not himſelf. The proud
man grieves and confumes for the felicity of another: The
envious dies to fee a happy man live: The covetous man
lofes his fleep, for what he hath no need of: The impatient
man tears his bowels, for that which imports not: and the
cholerick man ruins himſelf, for what no way concerns
him. How many for not conquering one paffion have loft
their fortunes, their quiet, and their lives, both temporal and
eternal? Witnefs Aman, who defiring more reverence than
was due to him, loft his honour, wealth and life, and ended
on a gibbet. The ambition of Abfolem refted not until it
left him hanged in a tree, by the hair of his head. In the
fame manner the difordinate love of Amnon, which made
him firſt fick and pale, and distempered him more than a
burning fever, at laft coft him his life. Unto many their
unmortified paffions have been like cruel hang men, which
have fuddenly bereaved them of their lives. Dubravius (r)
writes, that Wenceslaus king of Bohemia, entered into fo
great fury against a courtier of his, for not giving him time-
ly advice, of an uproar raiſed by Lifca in Prague, that he
was like to have killed him with his own hands; but being
with-held, from defiling his royal majefty with the blood of
his vaffal, he fell into an appoplexy, and died immediately.
'The death of Nerva (s) was likewife upon a ſudden anger.
And Pliny writes of Diodorus Cromus, that he fuddenly died
of ſhame, for that ne was not able to answer a question pro-
poſed by Eftibon. Through fear, grief, joy and love, many
have died. I will only relate here a lamentable ſtory written
by Paulus Jovius (1). A certain married man, had lived
long in adultery with fo great fcandal, that the bishop of the
city excommunicated both him and his paramour, if they
accompanied any more together. The man was fo befotred
with his paffion, that contemning the command of the bi-
fhop,
(r) Dubravius 1. 2. hift. Bohem. an. 1418.
(s) Aurel. Vict. in. Epitome vitæ Nervæ.
(t) Jovius 1. 39. hift. fui temporis.
CAP. VII.
251
the Temporal and Eternal.
fhop, he went fecretly one day to fee his miftrefs, who having
repented of what was paft, entertained him with harsh lan-
guage, reprehended his imprudency and commanded him
to depart her prefence, and never more to fee her; But he
ftill continuing in his madneſs, began to call her ungrateful
and unworthy, and in a rage claſping his hands together,
and lifting up his eyes towards heaven, as if it were to com
plain of her unkindneſs, fell down ſtark dead, and in a mo-
ment, loſt both his life temporal and eternal: and his body
was not fuffered to be interred in hallowed earth. If then
our diſordered paffions be fo hurtful unto our own lives, how
dangerous and prejudicial are they unto the lives of others?
Certainly if all other misfortunes were wanting, thoſe were
fufficient, which are caufed by humane paffions. There is
much to be ſuffered from the conditions of men, ill langu
age, difpleafing correfpondencies, wilful injuries, and per-
verſe difpofitions. All man is mifery aud cauſe of miferies.
Who is fo happy to content all, and be envied of none?
who is fo general a well-doer, that no body complains of
him? who fo liberal, that finds not fome ungrateful? who
ſo eſteemed, that fome murmurers do not defpife him? The
Athenians found fault with their Simonides, becauſe he talked
too loud: The Thebans accuſed Panniculus, that he ſpit too
much: The Lacedæmonians, noted in Lycurgus, that he went
hanging down his head; The Romans thought Scipio flept
too much, and that he fnorted too high: The Uticans were
fcandalized at Cato's eating too faft on both fides at once:
They held Pompey for rude and ill-bred, becauſe he ſcratched
his head with one finger: The Carthaginians ſpake ill of
Hannibal, becauſe he went open-breafted with his ſtomach
bare: Others laughed at Julius Cæfar, becauſe he was ill
girt. There is none fo upright, in whom envy or extrava-
gant conditions will not find fomething to reprehend.
The greateſt miſeries are thoſe, which men by their un-
bridled affections bring upon themſelves.
Whence pro-
ceeded that notable faying of Ecclefiaftes, which far exceed-
ed all that hath been fpoken by philofophers, concerning
humane mifery. "I praiſed (faith he) the dead before the
"living; I judged him more happy than either, who was
❝ not born, nor had feen the evils which are done under
"the fun." For there is nothing which offends humanę
nature more than the follies and impertinencies of men,
and the hatreds, injuftices, violences, and inhumanities.
cauſed
252
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
cauſed by their irregular paffions. Whereupon fome phil.
ofophers, feeing humane nature governed by paffion, and
not by reaſon, wholly abhorred it, Amongft whom Timon
of Athens was the principal beginner, and moft earnest pro-
feffor of that fect; for he did not only call himself the capi-
tal enemy of mankind, but confirmed his words by his acti-
ons; for he neither converſed nor dwelt with men, but lived
in the defert amongst wild beafts, remote from neighbour-
hood or towns; neither would he be vifited by any, nor dif-
courſe with any, but an Athenian captain called Alcibiades,
and that not for friendſhip or affection, but becauſe he hoped
and fore-faw (as indeed it happened afterwards) that he
would one day be the ruin of his country, and the deſtructi-
on of a multitude of men. Neither was he only content with
this averfion from men, but ftudied and invented all ways
poffible to deſtroy them. He caufed gallowfes to be made
in his gardens, wherein fuch as were defperate and weary of
life, might conveniently hang themfelves; and having occa-
fion fome years after, to make uſe of his garden for the en-
larging of his houſe, he would not pull down his gallowſes,
until he had called the people together to hear his oration,
affuring them, that he had fomething new and of import-
ance to ſpeak unto them. The people, who having been
long acquainted with his humour, expecting fomething that
was extraordinary, willingly affembled to hear him: to
whom he fpake in this manner: O Athenians, you are not
ignorant that many have made themſelves away in my gar
dens. I have now occafion to diſpoſe of them otherwife:
and therefore thought good to tell you, that if any of
have a mind to hang yourſelves, that you do it quickly;
And fo without more words, with this loving offer concluded
his fpeech, and returned to his own houfe, where he ended
his life in the fame opinion, ever philofophying of the mife-
ry of man. And when the pangs of death came upon him
abhorring mankind even unto the laft gafp, he commanded
that his body ſhould not be interred in the earth, as in the
common element, wherein ufually were buried the bodies,
of others, afraid left his bones ſhould lie near or be touched
by men though dead: but that they ſhould make his fepul
chre upon the brink of the ſea, that the fury of the weaves
might hinder the approach of all others: and that they ſhould
grave upon it this epitaph, which is related by Plutarch;
After my miferable life, ibey buried me in this deep water.
you
Reader 2
CAP. VII.
253
the Temporal and Eternal.
Reader, defire not to know my name. The Gods confound thee
This philofopher wanted faith and charity, not diftinguish-
ing betwixt the malice of man and his nature: having reafon
to abhor that, and to love this Yet by theſe extravagant
demonßrations, he gave us to underſtand how monstrous are
our paffions, and how worthy of hate, when they are not or-
dered and governed by reafon. And certainly ali chriftians
ought to defire, the deftru&tion of the pomp and pride of
men, as Timon did of their perfons, their fuperfluous gallan-
try, their unlawful pleaſures, their oftentation of riches, their
vain titles of honour, their raging envy, their difordered
choler, their unjust revenges, their unbridled paffions. Thofe
ought to die and be deſtroyed, that the men may live.
§. 6.
So many are the miferies of life, that they cannot all be
numbered. Death, which is called by Ariftotle, The great-
eft of evils, is by many esteemed a leffer evil than life: the
many evils in this, furpaffing the greatness of the evil in
that; and therefore many have thought it better to ſuffer the
greatest, which is death, than to fuffer fo many though lef
fer, which are in life. For this reafon one calls death, The
laft and greatest phyfician, becauſe though in itſelf it be the
greatest evil, yet it cures all others, and therefore preſcribes
the hopes of it, as an efficacious remedy and comfort in the
afflictions of life. But becaufe this comfort is not reliſhed by
all, the fear of death being fo natural, and the dangers and
many ways unto it, accounted amongst the many miſeries of
life, therefore fome prime philofophers could find out no
other remedy for evils than to defpair of their remedy.-
Wherefore Seneca, when a great earth-quake happened in
his time in Campania, wherein Pompeois, a famous city,
and divers other towns were funk, and many people loſt, and
the reſt of the inhabitants diſtracted with fear and grief, fled
from their country, as if they had been banished, he advffed
them to return home, and affured them, that there was no
remedy for the evils of this life, and that the dangers of
death were unavoidable. And truly, if well confidered,
what fecurity can there be in life, when the earth which is
the mother of the living, is unfaithful to them, and ſprouts
out miſeries and deaths even of whole cities? what can be
fecure in the world, if the world itfelf be not, and the moſt
folid
254
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
folid parts of it ſhake? If that, which is only immoveable
and fixed for to ſuſtain the living, tremble with earth quakes,
if what is proper to the earth, which is to be firm, be unſta-
ble and betray us, where' fhall our fears find a refuge? When
the roof of the houſe ſhakes, we may fly into the fields, but.
when the world fhakes, whither fhall we go? What comfort
can we have, when fear cannot find a gate to fly out at ?
Cities refill enemies with the ftrength of their walls: Tem-
pefts find a ſhelter in the haven: The covering of houfes
defend us from rains and fnows; in the time of plague we
may change places; but from the whole earth who can fly,
and therefore from dangers? For this reafon Seneca faid, Not
to have a remedy, may ferve us as a comfort in our evils;
for fear is fooliſh without hope, Reafon baniſhes fear in thofe
who are wife; and in thoſe who are not, defpair of remedy
gives a kind of fecurity, at leaft takes away fear. He that
will fear nothing, let him think that all things are to be
feared. See what flight things endanger us; even thoſe
which fuftain life, lay ambuſhes for us. Meat and drink,
without which we cannot live, take away our lives. It is not
wildom therefore to fear fwallowing by an earth-quake, and
not to fear the falling of a tile. In death all forts of dying
are equal. What imports it whether one fingle ftone kills
thee, or a whole mountain opprefs thee? death confifts in
the fouls leaving of the bodies, which often happens by flight
accidents.
But chriſtians in all the dangers and miferies of humane
life, have other comforts to lay hold on, which are a good
confcience, hope of glory, conformity unto the divine will,
and the imitation and example of Jefus Chrift. From thefe
four he ſhall in life have merit, in death fecurity, in both
comfort, and in eternity a reward. Juftus Lipfius being
much oppreffed with his laſt infirmity, whereof he died, fome
who were preſent, endeavoured to comfort him with fome
philofophical reafons and fentences of the Stoicks, wherein
that moſt learned man was much ſtudied, as appears in his
book of the introduction to Stoical-learning; unto whom he
anſwered in this moſt chriſtian manner. Vain are all thoſe
confolations; and pointing unto an image of Chriſt crucifi-
ed, faid, This is the true comfort and true patience. And
preſently with a figh, which rofe from the bottom of his
heart, faid, My Lord and Saviour Jefus Chrift, give me
chriſtian patience. This comfort we ought to have, who
were
CAP. VII.
255
the Temporal and Eternal.
were redeemed by fo loving a Lord, That, confidering our
fins are greater than the pains of this life, and that the Son
of God hath ſuffered far greater, who wanted all fin, he hath
deſerved to convert the miſeries of this life, which are occafi-
oned by fin, into inftruments of fatisfaction for our fins,
drawing health out of infirmity, and an antidote out of
poifon.
We may alſo draw from what is faid, how unjuft was the
complaint of Theophrafius, that nature had given a longer
life unto many birds and beaſts, than unto man. If our life
were leſs troubleſome, he had ſome reaſon; but it being fo
fraught with miſeries, he might rather think that life the hap-
pieſt which was ſhorteſt. Wherefore St. Jerome faid to Heli-
dorus, it is better to die young and die well, than to die old
and die ill. This voyage being of neceffity, the felicity of
it conſiſts not in being long, but being profperous, and that
we at laſt arrive in the defired port. St. Auſtin ſays (u),
that to die is to be eaſed of thoſe heavy burthens which we
bear in this life: and that the happiness is not to leave it
late in the evening of our age, but that when we die they
charge us not with a greater load. Let a man live ten years,
or let him live a thoufand, death (as St. Jerome faith) gives
him the title of happy or unfortunate. If he live a thouſand
years in forrow, it is a great unhappineſs: but greater, if he
live them ill, though with content; and therefore, fuppofing
fo many miferies, we cannot complain of God for having
given us a fhort life, but of ourſelves for having made it a
bad one. Finally, as St. Ambrofe fays (x), Our life being
compaffed with fo many miferies, as that death feems rather
a fhelter for evils than a puniſhment, God was pleaſed that it
fhould be ſhort, that the vexations and misfortunes of it,
which cannot be counterpoifed with any joys of the earth,
might be more fupportable. At leaft if this life, with fo
many miſeries do not difpleafe us, yet let the eternal with all
her felicities content us better; and let us not endeavour lefs
for the immortal life of heaven, than we do for this mortal
one of earth. And therefore, as St. Auftine fays (y),
" If
"thou run a hundred miles for this life, how many oughteft
"thou to run for the eternal: and if thou make fuch ſpeed
"to obtain a few days and uncertain, how oughteft thou to
66 run for life eternal?”
(u) Auguſt. in Juhan.
(x) Ambr. Ser. quadragef.
(y) Auguſ, trac. 5. in Johan. hom. 57.
CAP.
256
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
!
CA P. VIII.
How little is Man whilst he is temporal.
IF we confider the greatest thing in nature, which is man,
we ſhall ſee how little he is whilst he is temporal.
"What is man faith Seneca ? a frail veſſel, broken with the
"leaft motion, a moſt weak body, naked by nature and
"unarmed, neceffitous of mother's help, fubject to the in-
juries of fortune, impatient of cold and labour, compofed
of things infirm and fluid; and thofe very things, with-
out with we cannot live, as Imell, taſte, watching, meat
“and drink, are mortal unto us." The wife Solon (z) did
not anſwer more favourably, when they demanded of him,
what was man. "He is (faith he) a corruption in his birth,
66 a beaft in his life, and food for worms when he is dead."
Ariftotle being asked the fame queſtion (a), anſwered,
"That man was an idea of weakneſs, a ſpoil of time, a
"game of fortune, an image of inconftancy, a ballance of
"
envy and calamity: and the reft is of flegm and choler."
Secundus the philofopher, being alle demanded the fame by
Adrian the emperor, anſwered, "That man was an incor-
"
And
poreal underſtanding, a phantaſm of time, a looker upon
"life, a flave of death, a travelling paffenger, a gueſt of
"place, a toiling foul, a habitation for a fhort time."
St. Bernard faith, "That man in this time of mortality, is
"but a beaſt of carriage?" And the fame faint in another
place fays, "What is man but a veſſel of dung ?” and in
his meditations he adds; "If thou markeft what he voids
" at his mouth and nole, and at the other finks of his body,
" thou hast not in all thy life beheld a more noiſome dung-
"hill." In the fame part he faith, "Man is no other
"thing but unclean feed, a lack of dung, a food for
worms." More fully Innocent (b) the Pope. "I have
"confidered, faith he, with tears what man was made of,
"what he is, and what he fhall be. He was made of earth,
"and conceived in fin, and born for punishment. He does
(z) Anton. in Mel. Stob. Ser. 96.
"
(a) Dionyf. Rikel. de noviff. arti. 15.
(b) Innocen, de Contempla. mundí. lib. 1. c. 1.
things
CAP. VIII.,
257
the Temporal and Eternal.
<
things evil, which are not lawful, things filthy, which
are not decent, and things vain, which are not expedi-
،، ent. He shall be the food of fire, meat for worms, and
..
a maſs of corruption. O vile indignity of humane con-
"dition! O unworthy condition of humane bafenefs! Be-
"hold the plants and trees. They produce flowers, and
"leaves, and fruit, and thou nothing but nits, lice and
"worms. They furniſh us with oil, wine and balſam, thou
"affordeft nothing but flegm, dung and urine. Thofe fend
"forth a fragrant colour, and thou abominable ſtink. Such
"as is the tree, fuch is the fruit. A good tree cannot bring
"forth bad fruit; and what is man but a tree reverft ?"
This is the faying of this holy Pope. And fuch is man even
in his youth and best time. But if he reach old age, which
is eſteemed as a felicity, the fame Innocentius adds,
" His
"heart is afflicted, his head ſhakes, his fpirits languifh, his
"breath fmells, his face wrinkles, his ftature bends, his
eyes wax dimn, his joints quake, his noſe runs, his hands
"tremble, his hair falls, his teeth rot, his ears grow deaf.
"Neither is he more changed in body than in mind. An
"old man is eafily difpleafed, hardly pacified, believes
"quickly, long before difabuſed, is greedy, covetous, pee-
..
vish, froward, ftill complaining, quick in talking, flow in
"hearing, admires what's paft, contemns what's prefent,
fighs, grieves, languiſhes, and is always infirm."
CC
It may alfo appear what man is by the ſtuff whereof he is
made. The firft man God made of clay, mixing together
the vileft and groffeft elements. The rest of men, who have
fucceeded, have been made of a matter more loathſome and
unclean; and worſe is that wherewith they are nouriſhed in
their mothers wombs; and their birth is accompanied with
ſhame, grief and pollution; which Pliny confidering, ſpeaks
in this manner. "It is a compaffion, nay a fhame to think
of the original of the proudeft of living creatures, which
"is man; who often is abortive by the fmell of a newly
"extinguiſhed candle. From fuch beginning's fprung our
tyrants; from hence the butcherly mind of thofe cruel
hang men. Thou which glorieſt in the ſtrength of body,
"thou which embraceft the gifts of fortune, and thinkeft
"not thyself her fervant, but her fon and darling, thou who
fetteft thy mind wholly upon victories, thou who puffed
up with fuccefs, holdeſt thyself a God, fee how thou
"mighteſt have perifhed even before thou wert, with fo lit-
K k
« tle
}
258
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
"tle a thing as a fnuff of a candle, and mayeſt yet with a
"fmaller matter, pricked with the little tooth of an adder,
or, like Anacreon the poet, choked with the flone of a
grape; or, like F bius the Roman fenator, fuffocated with
a hair in a draught of milk." Thus far Pliny, who not
only admired the baleneſs of the nature of man, but the ea-
finefs of his end.
Confider alfo wherein man ends. "Man whilft he lives,
<< [faith Pope Innocent] (c) engenders lice and vermin;
"" when he is dead, grubs and worms; whilst he lives, af-
"fords us nothing but dung and vomits; when he is dead,
"ftink and rottene fs; alive, he feeds but one man, but
"dead, a multitude of worms, What thing more noiſome
"than a humane carcafs? what more horrible than a dead
"man? he whofe embraces were most acceptable, when
" he was alive, even his fight is troubleſome when he is
"dead. What do riches, banquers or delights profit us?
"they fhall not free us from death, they fhall not defend
66
us from the worms, they ſhall not take away our ſtink
" and ill favour. He who even now was feated in a glori-
ous throne, is now Aung into an obfcure tomb: he who
lately feaſted in a fumptuous Sala, is now feafted upon
"by worms in a dark fepulchre." All this is from this con-
templative Pope. St. Bernard (d) alfo confidering this
miſerable end of man, faith, "Man is converted into no
Where-
man; why therefore art thou proud? know that thou
"wert in the womb unclean feed, and curled bood, ex-
poſed afterwards to fin, and the many mileries of this
"life, and after death fhalt be the food of worms.
"fore doſt thou wax proud, duft and aſhes, whofe concep-
❝tion was in fin, whofe birth in mifery, whofe life in pain,
" and whoſe death neceffity? wherefore doft thou ſwell and
"adorn thyself with precious things, which in a few days
"is to be devoured by worms; and doſt not rather adorn
thy ſoul with good works, which is to be prefented in
"heaven, before God and his Angels ?" All this is ſpoken
unto himſelf.
§. 2.
Befides that man is a thing fo poor and little, and com-
poſed of fo baſe and vile materials, this littlenefs, this vile-
(c) Lib. 3. c. 1.
(d) Bernard. c. 3. Meditat.
nels
CAP. VIII. the Temporal and Eternal.
259
neſs hath no firmness nor confiftence, but is a river of
changes, a perpetual corruption, and, as Secundus (e) the
philofopher fays, "A fantafm of time; whofe inftability is.
"thus declared by Eufebius of Cæfarea. Our nature from
our birth, until our death is unstable, and as it were fan.
taftical, which if you ftrive to comprehend, is like water
gathered in the palm of the hand; the more you graſp
"it, the more you ſpill it. In the fame manner, thofe mu-
" table and tranfitory things, the more you confider them
"with reaſon, the more they fly from you. Things fenfi-
ble, being in a perpetual flux, are ftill doing and undo.
ing; ftill generating and corrupting, and never remain
"the fame. For, as Heraclitus fays, as it is impoffible to
"enter twice into the fame river, becauſe the fame water
"remains not, but new fucceeds ftill as the first paffes, fo if
you confider twice this mortal fubftance, you ſhall not
"both times find it the fame, but with an admirable ſwift-
"nefs of change it is now extended, now contracted; but
"it is not well faid to fay, Now and now; for in the fame
"time it lofes in one part, and gains in another, and is
"another thing than what it is, infomuch as it never reſts.
"The embrion, which is framed from feed, quickly be-
comes an infant, from thence a boy, from thence a young
man, from thence an old, and then decrepit; and ſo the
first ages being past and corrupted by new ones which
"fucceed, it comes at laft to die. How ridiculous then are
46
men to fear one death, who have already died fo many,
"and are yet to die more. Not only, as Heraclitus faid,
"The corruption of fire, is the generation of air, but this
appears more plainly in ourſelves; for from youth cor-
"rupted, is engendered man, and from him the old man;
"from the boy corrupted, is engendered the youth, and
"from the infant the boy, and from who was not yeſterday,
he who is to day; and of him who is to day, he who
"fhall be to-morrow: fo as he never remains the fame, but
"in every moment we change, as it were, with various
phantafms in one common matter. For if we be ſtill the
"fame, how come we to delight in things we did not be-
"fore? we now love and abhor after another manner than
formerly: we now praife and difpraiſe other things than
66 we did before: we ufe other words, and are moved with
"other affe&tions; we do not hold the fame form, nor paſs
(e) Lib. 11. de Præpa. Evan. c. 7.
• the
260
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
64
66
7
"the fame judgment we did; and how is it poffible, that
"without change in ourselves, we fhould thus change in
our motions and affections? certainly he who still changes
" is not the fame, and he who is not the fame, cannot be
"ſaid to be, but in a continual mutation flides away like
66 water. The ſenſe is deceived with the ignorance of what
❝is, and thinks that to be which is not, Where fhall we
"then find true being, but in that only which is eternal,
"and knows no beginning, which is incorruptible, which is
not changed with time Time is moveable, and joined
"with moveable matter; glides away like a current, and
"like a veffel of generation and corruption retains nothing:
"infomuch as the first and the laft, that which was, and
"that which ſhall be are nothing, and that which feems
"prefent, paffes like lightning. Wherefore as time is de-
"fined, to be the meaſure of the motion of things fenfible,
"and as time never is, nor can be, fo we may with the like
"reaſon ſay, that things fenfible do not remain, nor are,
"nor have any being. All this is from Eufebius; which
David declared more briefly and fignificantly, when he faid,
That man whilft he lived in this life, was an univerfal vani-
ty. Wherefore St. Gregory Nazianzen (f) ſaid, that we are
a dream, unſtable, like a ſpectre or apparition, which could
not be laid hold on.
Let man therefore reflect upon all which hath been faid;
let him behold himself in this glafs: let him fee wherefore
he prefumes, wherefore he afflicts himself for things of the
earth, which are fo fmall in themſelves, and ſo prejudicial
unto him. With reafon did the prophet fay, In vain dọth
man trouble himself; Upon which St. Chryfoftome (g), with
great admiration, fpeaks in this manner:
"Man troubles
himself, and lofes his end; he troubles himself, confumes
"and melts to nothing, as if he had never been born; he
"troubles himſelf, and before he attains reft is over-whelm-
"ed; he is inflamed like fire, and is reduced to aſhes like
"flax; he mounts on high like a tempeft, and like duft, is
"fcattered and difappears; he is kindled like a flame, and
"vaniſhes like ſmoke; he glories in his beauty like a flow-
"er, and withers like hay; he fpreads himself as a cloud,
" and is contra&ted as a drop; he fwells like a bubble of
"water, and goes out like a fparkle; he is troubled, and
carries
(f) In laud. Caf.
(g) Chryfoft. in Pf. 36.
CAP. VIII. the Temporal and Eternal.
261
❝ carries nothing about him, but the filth of riches; he is
"troubled only to gain dirt; he is troubled, and dies with-
out fruit of his vexations. His are the troubles, others
"the joys; his are the cares, others the contents; his are
"the afflictions, others the fruit; his are the heart-burſt-
ings, others the delights; his are the curfes, others have
"the reſpect and reverence; againſt him the fighs and
"exclamations of the perfecuted are fent up to Heaven, and
against him the tears of the poor are poured out, and
"the riches and abundance remains with others; he ſhall
howl and be tormented in hell, whilst others fing, tri-
"umph, and vainly confume his edate. In vain, do living
men trouble themfelves. Man is he who enjoys a life,
"but lent him, and that but for a ſhort time; man is but
66 a debt of death, which is to be paid without delay; a
66
living creature, who is in his will and appetite untamed,
"a mifchief taught without a mafter, a voluntary ambush,
..
་
fubtle in wickednefs, witty in iniquity, prone to covetous-
"neſs, infatiable in the defire of what is anothers, of a
"boasting fpirit, and full of infolent temerity; in his words
fierce, but easily quelled; bold, but quickly maſtered;
an arrogant clay, an infolent duft, and a 'parkle, which
“in a moment is extinguiſhed; a flame which quickly dies,
<a light which vanishes into air, a dead leaf, withered
"hay, faded grafs, a nature which confumes itſelf; to day
abounds in wealth, and is to morrow in his grave;
day hath his brows circled with a diadem, and to-morrow
" is with worms; he is to day, and to-morrow ceales to be;
"triumphs and rejoices to day, and to-morrow is lament-
to
ed; immeafurably infolent in profperity, and in adverfity
"admits no comfort; who knows not himſelf, yet is curi-
❝ous in fearching what is above him; is ignorant of what
" is prefent, and fcoffs at what's to come; he who is mor-
❝tal by nature, and out of pride, thinks himſelf eternal;
he who is an open houſe of perturbations, a game of di-
"vers infirmities, a concourfe of daily calamities, and a
receptable of all forrow. O how great is the tragedy of
our baſeneſs! and how many things have I ſaid? But it
"cannot better be declared, than by the voice of the pro-
phet:
: In vain doth man who lives trouble himſelf. For
truly the things of this life, which fhine and glitter moſt,
are of lefs profit than a putrified carcass." This is from
St. John Coryfoftome, in which he clearly fets forth the mi-
CC
fery
262
L. I B. III.
The Difference betwixt
fery of man, the ſhortness of his life, and the vanity of things
temporal.
§. 3.
And that the perfe& knowledge of ourselves, may not be
wanting unto us, man is not only thus vile and baſe whilſt
he lives, and much more being dead, but even his foul,
whilſt it remains in his body, is not of much greater efteem.
For although the foul be of itſelf of a moſt noble ſubſtance,
yet our vices do fo much vilify it, that they make it more
abominable than the body. And without doubt the foul,
when it is dead in mortal fin, is more corrupt and ſtinking
in the fight of the angels, than a body dead eight days ago;
for if that body be full of worms, this is full of devils and
vices. And even whilft the foul lives, and is free from any
mortal fin, yet by committing thofe, which are but venial,
it becomes full of imperfections; and although it be not
dead, yet it is more weak, feeble and languishing than a fick
body; and if a man knew himſelf well, he would be more
affrighted at the mifery of his foul, than at that of his flesh.
The devout Father Alfronfo Rodcriguez, a moſt excellent
maſter in matters of fpirit, writes of a holy woman, who de-
fired light from God, to know in what condition fhe was:
and ſaw in herſelf fuch uglineſs and deformity, that he was
not able to ſuffer it, and therefore befought God again, fay-
ing, Not fo much, O Lord, for I fhall taint and be difmay-
ed. Father Maſter John d' Avilla faith, that he knew a
perſon, who often had importuned God to diſcover unto him
what he was. It pleaſed God to open his eyes but a very
little, and yet that little had like to have coſt him dear: for
he beheld himſelf ſo ugly and abominable, that he cried out
aloud, Lord of thy mercy, take from before mine eyes this
mirrour; I defire not any more to behold my figure. Donna
Sancha Carillo, that moſt fervent fervant of Chrift, after ſhe
had led a moſt perfect and admirable life, befought our
Lord, to give her a fight of her foul, that feeing the filthi-
nefs of her fins, he might be further moved to abhor them.
Our Lord was pleaſed to grant her requeſt, and ſhewed it her
in this form. One night, as fhe fat alone in her Sala, the
door open, there paffed before her an ancient hermit, his
hair all gray, and in his hand a ſtaff to ſupport him. She
amazed at the fight of ſuch a man, in ſuch a habit, at fo an
unfeaſonable
CAP. VIII.
the Temporal and Eternal.
263
unſeaſonable an hour, was a little furprized with fear; yet
recolle&ting herſelf, faid unto him, Father, what feek ye for
here? to whom he anſwered, Lift up my cloak, and you
fhall fee. She did ſo, and beheld a little girl, fickly, pale
and weak, with the face all covered over with flies. She
took it in her arms, and demanded of him, Father, what is
this? Doft thou not remember, replied the hermit, when
thou carneftly defired'ft of our Lord, that he would give thee
a view of thy foul? Behold the figure of it; after this man-
ner it is. This faid, the apparition vaniſhed, and the re-
mained fo confufed and affrighted, that it feemed unto her
(accordingly as ſhe after confeffed) that all her bones were dif
placed with fuch grief and pain, as, had it not been for the
great favour and mercy of God, it had been impoffible for
her to endure it. She paffed that night almoft over whelmed
with the waves of her fad and troubled thoughts. The
manner of that girl fo feeble and difcoloured, afflicted her
extremely, contemplating it as the image of her foul; efpe-
cially when the reflected on the face covered, with thoſe im-
pertinent and troubleſome little creatures, her grief was dou-
bled and it ſeemed unto her, as if it had fmelt like fome-
thing that was dead, or fome old fore: which made her fend
up a thouſand fighs unto heaven, and to defire a remedy and
mercy from our Lord. No fooner did the day ſo much de-
fired by her appear, but ſhe repaired inſtantly unto her con-
feffor, a perfon of great virtue and learning, and defired him
with many tears, to explicate unto her the meaning of that
vifion, and to tell her, whether thofe little creatures did fig-
nity any grievous and hidden fins, which her foul knew no-
thing of. The confeffor took ſome ſhort time to recommend
his anſwer unto our Saviour: which done, he returned and
faid unto her, Madam, trouble not yourself, but render hear-
ty thanks unto God for the favour which he hath done you;
and know that the feebleneſs, which appeared in the image
of your foul, was an effect of venial fins, which weaken, but
kill not; cool, but extinguiſh not the charity in our fouls;
for if they had been mortal fins, the girl would have been
dead for thofe deprive the foul wholly of life; thofe which
by venial, only take away our fervour and promptnefs in the
fervice of God, and the perfect accompliſhing of his holy
law. If then the fouls of fo great fervants of God are fo full
of miferies, wherein can milerable man boaft, fince he is fo
both in foul and body?
:
CAP.
264
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
}
F
CA P. IX.
How deceitful are all things Temporal.
ROM what hath hitherto been faid, may be collected
how great a lie and cozenage is all that which paffes in
time, and that the things of the earth, befides that they are
bafe, inconftant and tranfitory, are alfo deceitful and full of
danger. This is fignified unto us in the Apocalyps by the
harlot, by which was denoted humane proſperity, who fat
upon that monstrous beaft, which is the world. And amongst
other ornaments, as the fcripture fays, fhe was adorned with
gilded gold; which gives us to underſtand her falfhood:
Since it was not true, and fine gold which ſhe wore, but
falſe and counterfeited; for although it feemed gold, it was
but alchimy; and yet being gilt fhe fold it for true gold.
So the profperity of the world comes decked with the goods
of the earth, which the fells for true goods, fetting them
forth as great, fecure and lafting, when they are nothing lefs.
All is but deceit and cozenage; which is well expreffed by
Seneca, when he fays; "That is only good which is ho-
"neft; other goods are falfe and adulterate." What great-
er falfhood and deceit, than to make thoſe things which are
moſt vile and bafe, to appear fo precious, and of fuch esteem,
that men pretend nothing greater, and being more change-
able than the moon, to appear conftant and ecure, infomuch
as we remain fo fatisfied with them, as if they were never to
change, and being fading and corruptible we leek after them.
as if they were eternal and immortal, remen.bring nothing
lefs than their end and ours, forgetting wholly that they are
to periſh and we to die? It is evident they are falſe, fince
they promise of themfelves what they neither have nor are.
Thoſe who work in prospective will fo paint a room, that the
light entering only through fome little hole, you ſhall per-
ceive beautiful and perfect figures and fhapes; but if you
open the windows and let in a full light, at most you ſhall
fee but fome imperfe&t lines and fhadows. So the things of
this world feem great and beautiful unto thoſe who are in
darkneſs, and have but little light of heaven, but thoſe who
enjoy
CAP. IX.
265
the Temporal and Eternal.
enjoy the perfe& light of truth and faith, finding nothing in
them of ſubſtance. The felicity of this life is but a fiction,
and a ſhadow of true happiness, and by that name is often
qualified in holy fcripture, which excellently expreffes the
nature of it. For the fhadow is not a body, but a refem-
blance of a body, and ſeeming to be fomething, is nothing.
The inconftancy alfo, and ſpeedy change of humane things
deſerves this name: becaufe the fhadow is always altering,
and ends on a fudden. And as the fhadow when it is at
length, and can increaſe no further, is neareſt the end: ſo
temporal goods and humane fortunes, when they are mount-
ed up as high as the ſtars, are then neareſt to vaniſh, and
diſappear fuddenly. And therefore one of the friends of
Job faid, I Jaw the fool, that be bad taken deep rooting, and
inftantly I curfed bis beauty; for the more firm he appeared
to ſtand, the more near he was unto his fall. And David
faid, he faw the finner exalted as a cedar, but he endured no
longer than he turned his eyes.
What is to deceive, but to publiſh that for truth which is
not, and to promife that which fhall never be accompliſhed?
I leave to the witneſs of every one, how often the iffue of
their hopes have proved vain, not finding in what they de-
fired, that content which they expected. In riches they
hope for peace and repofe, but meet with nothing but un-
quietness and cares, and many times with dangers and lof-
fes. For this Chriſt our Redeemer called riches deceits, fay-
ing, that the divine word was choaked with the falfhood and
deceit of riches. He is not content with calling them falſe
and deceitful, but calls them falfhoods and deceits; for what
can be more falſe and perfidious, than promifing one thing
to perform just the contrary? The profperity of this world.
promifes us goods, and gives us evils; promifes us caſe, and
gives us cares; promiſes fecurity, and gives us danger; pro-
miſes us great contents, and gives us great vexations; pro-
miſes us a ſweet life, and gives us a bitter. With reaſon it
is faid in the book of Job, that the bread, which the worldly
inan eats, ſhall be converted into the gall of afps; becauſe
that in thoſe things, which feem neceffary for his life, as the
bread of his mouth, he ſhall meet his death, and when he
hopes for pleaſure, he fhall find gall, and no morfel, which
ſhall not leave ſome bitterneſs behind it. There is no felici-
ty upon earth, which carries not its counterpoife of misfor-
tunes: no happineſs, which mounts fo high, which is not
depreffèd
LI
H
4
'
The Difference betwixt
266
/ LIB. III.
depreffed by fomé calamity. For as they anciently painted
humane fancy in the form of a young man, with one arma
lifted up with wings, as if it meant to fly towards heaven,
and the other weighed down by fome great weight, which
hindered it from rifing; to humane felicity, how high foever
it foars, hath till fomething to depreſs it.
I
4
§. 2.
If we will evidently fee how deceitful are the things of
this world, this is a convincing argument, that no man,
after he hath enjoyed what he most defires, is content with
his condition, which apparently fhews their deceit; neither
doth any man cease to defire more, though he poffels the
greatest and moft ample fortune in the world; which alfo
argues their falfhood, fince they fatisfy not thoſe who poffefs
them. No man but envies the life of fome other and grieves
and complains of his own, though far more happy. Con-
flantine the Great (h), who was arrived at the height of hu-
mane felicity, faid, his life was fomething more honourable
than that of Geatherd's and Shepherd's, but much more pain-
ful and troubleſome. Alfonfus king of Naples faid, the life
of kings was the life of affes, for the great burthens which
they bear. So as in the book of Fob it is faid, that the Gi-
ants groan under the waters. In which place (as Albertus
Magnus explicates it) by the giants are understood the migh-
ty ones of the earth, upon whom it fends troubles and vexa-
tions, (for fo the name of waters fignify in that place of holy
fcripture) which makes them groan under the intolerable
weight of them. They are like the giants, which in great
cities are thewed at their folemn feafts; that which appears,
is fome great and flately bulk covered with gold and filks:
but that which appears not, is the little poor man, which
carries it upon his fhoulders, fweating, groaning, tired and
half dead with the weight. The fumpter-mules of the gran-
dees of Spain, at their firt coming to court, are loaden with
great wealth of filver-veffels, tiffue-beds, and rich hangings,
their fumpter-cloaths imbroidered, their winding-ftaves of
filver, their cords of filk, with their great plumes, their bells,
boffes and other furniture. But although their load be rich
and fumptuous, yet in fine, it is a load and oppreffes them,
and they are ready to faint, and fink under the weight of it.
(h) Eufeb. in Orat. de laudibus Conftan.
So
1
<
CAP. IX.
267
the Temporal and Eternal.
So is honour, empire, and command. Even king David
confeffed as much, and fays, That his loins were, (as it were)
disjointed, and he was bruifed and wearied with the burthen.
Some kings have faid that, which is particularly related by
Stehæus of Antigonus (i), who, when he was crowned king
of Macedonia, faid, O crown more noble than happy! if
men knew how full thou art of cares and dangers, no man
would take thee up, though he ſhould find thee in the freets.
And Dionyfius, to express the anxieties of the life of kings,
faid, it was like that of condemned perfons, which every
hour expect death. This is fignified by the cup of gold,
which the woman (that is profperity) who fat upon the mon-
fter with ſeven heads, (that is the world) held in her hand;
which although it made a fair fhew, yet was full of abomi-
nation becauſe there is none, who fpeaks not ill of his own
condition, and many who feem molt fortunate, abhor their
own lot, although it appear glorious unto others. Solomon
was the king who most enjoyed the goods of this life; for he
refolved to fatiate himfelt with delights, even until he fur-
feited. He had a thouſand wives, whereof were 700 queens,
and 300 concubines; he had fumptuous buildings and pala-
ces, gardens, orchards, houfes of pleaſure, woods, groves,
fish ponds, excellent mufic, men and women-fingers, the
greatest and belt ordered court in the world, his ſervice and
veifels of gold and filver fo fumptuous, as it cauſed admira-
tion in the queen of Saba: His cavalry confifted of 40c00
horfe, with furniture fuitable, in perpetual pay. The trea-
fure which his father David left him, was according to Bu-
daus, ten times greater than that of Darius king of Perfia.
Finally, he arrived unto that point of happineſs and felicity
in all kinds, that he himself admired it, and acknowledged
himſelf for the most fortunate prince in the world, and faid,
Ibo fhail fecd like me? and who ſhall abound in all delights
and pleaſures as I do? Yet in all this profperity, than which
greater cannot be imagined by man, when he ſeriouſly caft his
eyes upon it, he faid, All was vanity and affliction of fpi-
rit ? and was fo diſcontented with his life, that he confeffed
it was tedious unto him, and that he detefted the care he
had taken about it: and envying the poor labourer, judged
it was better for one to eat of what he got by the fweat of his
brows. If then fuch excefs of fortune, felicity, wealth, ho-
nour and pleaſure, deceived fo wife a king as Solomon, who
(i) Stob. Ser. 3..
will
268
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
will not be deceived? what ſhall we expect from fome little
part of felicity, when this flood of fortune could not heſtow a
contented and quiet life? What greater argument of the
fcarcity and littleness of temporal goods, when all are not
fufficient to fill a humane heart? But as they are not the
things which they feem, fo they afford not what we expect,
and therefore no man is content with what he has, that ſtill
appearing better which is another's.
And this proceeds from the deceit of humane things, that
obtaining what we defire, and not finding that fatisfaction.
which we expected, we envy the condition of others, think-
ing we ſhould there meet with that content which is not to
be had at home, which feeking with much trouble, we at
laft come to know our error, and find their condition worſe
than our own. This is well expreffed by antiquity, in a
fiction it made full of doctrine, wherein it feigned, that the
Cretans prefented a petition to Jupiter, that fince he was
born in their country, he would be pleaſed to exempt them
from the troubles and labours endured by others. Jupiter
anſwered, that this was a privilege of thoſe who were in
heaven, and could not be granted to them who lived upon
earth. Whereupon they framed a fecond fupplication, that
it might be lawful for them to change, and truck their la
bours and cares one with another. This was granted.
Whereupon the next fair-day every one truffing up his own
troubles in a fardel, and loading himſelf, brought them to
the market place: but began, before they bargained, to
ſearch and look into thoſe of others, and finding them more
heavy and grievous than their own, every one returned to
his houſe as wife as he came. The remedy of affli&tions is
not to fly from them, but to turn unto God, fince they hap
pened unto us for our forfaking of him. And it was a moſt
high counſel of the divine providence, that no man ſhould
want afflictions, that fo he might know his fins: and hoping
only for cafe and comfort in the next life, and in God, he
might acknowledge and only ferve him. Wherefore the
prophet Ofee faith, that God deals with us as husband with
a wife, who had forfaken him, and fought after firange lo-
vers, who fowed thorns in her paths, that being wounded
The might fay, I will return unto my first fpoufe; to God
fows gall and worm-wood in the goods of this life, that the
foul being afflicted, may repent and turn unto him.
Another
CAP. IX. the Temporal and Eternal.
269
Another argument of the great deceit of temporal things
is this, that the more we poffefs them, the more we covet
then, and after the experience of their little ſubſtance and
power, to fatisfy our hearts, yet ftill we defire and gape af
ter them. It is evident that this is a great cozenage, and a
certain kind of witch craft, by which they fnatch away hu-
mane affections, at fuch a time as they should moſt avoid
them. Nothing fatisfies, and yet we defire that which does
not fatisfy. How vain then are they, fince when we poffefs
them, they content us not, yet we still defire more? All the
power and felicity of his kingdom, nor the greatneſs of his
palaces, nor being lord of fo many cities and fields could
content Acbab, unless he enjoyed the little vineyard of his
poor neighbour; which being denied, he fell fick with grief
and melancholy, flung himself upon his bed, and for mere
rage and madnefs forbore to cat O goods of the earth,
where is your greatness, fince the wealth of a rich kingdom
could not fill the heart of one man, but left it empry to de-
fire more; and the want of one only thing, had more pow.
er to afflict him, than fo many goods joined together to con-
tent him? All things are as vain as this, fince they cannot
give us that for which we feek them; and therefore Ecclefs
aftus faid, "The covetous man ſhall not be filled with coin,
and he who loves riches, fhall not enjoy the fruit of them.
"And this is vanity."
Finally, from all which is fpoken either in this, or the
former books, may be drawn that confolation of the empe-
ror Marcus Aurelius (k) in his philofophy, where he ſays,
"The time of humane life is a moment the nature flippe-
ry, the fenfes darkened, the temperare of the whole
"body easily corrupted, the foul wandring, the fortune,
"what it ſhall be, hard to conjecture, the fame uncertain,
"and to be ſhort, thofe things which belong unto the body,
"have the nature of a river, and thoſe which belong unto
"the mind, are as Imoke or a dream. Life is a war and a
* peregrination, fame after death is forgotten. What is
"there then that can guide unto fecurity. There is nothing
"but philofophy, which confiſts in this, that thou conferve
a mind without wound or ftain, entire and undefiled, fu-
perior to all grief and pleaſure, that thou do nothing with-
"out a good end, nothing feignedly or falfely, and that
thou regard not what another man does or has to do: Be-
(k) Lib. 2. in fine, p. 185.
tides,
270
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
"fides, that all things which happen, thou receive as fent
"from thence, from whence thou thyself art derived; Fi-
"nally, that thou attend death with a quiet and temperate
"mind." This is from that great philoſopher.
TH
CA P. X.
The dangers and prejudices of things Temporal.
HE least evil, which we receive from the goods of this
world, is to deceive and fruftrate our hopes: and he
comes well off, whom they forfake only with a mock. For
there are many who not only fail of what they defire, but
meet with what they abhor, and in place of eafe and con-
tent, meet with trouble and vexation, and inttead of life find
death, and that which they most affect turns often to their
deftruction. Abfolom being very beautiful, gloried in nothing
more than his hair; but even thofe became the inftrument
of his death, and thoſe which he daily combed, as if they
had been threads of gold, ferved as a halter to hang him
upon an oak. To how many have riches, which they loved
as their life, been an occafion of death? This is the calami-
ty of the goods of the earth: which the wife-man noted when
he faid, Another dangerous evil I beheld under the Sun, riches
preferved for the deftruction of their owner. This is the ge-
neral and incurable infirmity of riches, that when they are
poffeffed with affection, they turn into the ruin of their pof-
icffors, either in foul or body, and oftentimes in both: in-
lomuch as we are not to look upon temporal goods as vain
and deceitful, but as Parricides and our betrayers. With
much reaſon the two great prophets Ifaias and Ezechiel com-
pare Egypt, (by which is fignified the world and humane
profperity) unto a reed, which if you lean upon, it breaks,
and the splinters wound your hands. No let's brittle than a
reed are temporal goods, but more dangerous. Befides the
other faults, wherewith they may be charged, a very great
one is the hurts they do to life itfelf, for whofe good they are
defired; and are commonly not only hurtful unto the life
eternal, but prejudicial even unto the temporal. How many
for their defire to obtain them, have lost the happiness of
A
heaven,
CAP. X. - the Temporal and Eternal.
271
heaven, and the quiet felicity of the earth, enduring before
death a life of death, and by their cares, griefs, fears, trou-
les, labours and afflictions, which are caufed even by the
greatest abundance and felicity, before they enter into the
he'l of the other world, fuffer a hell in this? And therefore
St. John writes in his Apocalyps, that death and hell were
caft into a lake of fire, becauſe the life of finners, of whom
he ſpeaks, according to the letter, is a death and hell; and
he fays, that this life and this hell, fhall be caft into the
other hell: and he who places his felicity in the goods of the
earth, fhall pass from one death unto another, and from one
hell unto another. Let us look upon the condition, where-
unto Aman was brought by his abundance of temporal for-
tunes, into fo exceffive a pride, that becauſe he was denied
a refpect which was no ways due unto him, he lived a life
of death, fmothering in his breaft a hell of rage, madneſs
and hatred nothing in this life, as he himself confeffed,
giving him eaſe or content. What condition more like un-
to death and hell than this? for as in hell, there is a privati-
on of all joys and delights, fo oftentimes it happens in the
greatest felicities upon earth. The fame which Aman con-
felfed Dionyfius felt when he was king of Sicily: to wit,
that he took no content at all in the greateft delights of his
kingdom. And therefore Bostius (1) fays, that if we could
take away the veil from thoſe who fit on thrones, are clad in
purple, and compaffed about with guard of foldiers, we
fhould fee the chains in which their fouls are enthralled;
conformable unto which is that of Plutarch, that in name
only they are princes, but in every thing elſe flaves. A
marvellous thing it is, that a man compaffed about with de-
lights, pastimes and pleafures, fhould joy in nothing, and in
the midſt of dancing, drinking, feafting, and dainty fair,
ſhould find a hell in his heart. That in hell amongſt ſo
many torments finners fhould not find comfort, is no marvel
at all; but that in this life in the midst of felicity and afflu-
ence of all delights, he fhould find no fatisfaction is a great
mystery. A great mifchief then is humane profperity, that
amongst all its contents, it affords no room for one true one.
But this is divine providence, that as the faints, who defpi-
fed what was temporal, had in their fouls, in the very midft
of torments, a heaven of joy and pleaſure, as St. Laurence,
who in the midſt of flames, found a Paradife in his heart :
(1) Tull. in Tufcul. q. Boet. 1. de confol,
fo
272
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
fo the finner, who neither efteems nor loves any thing be
fides thofe of the world, fhould alſo in the midſt of his rega-
lo's and delights, find a life of hell and torments, anticipa-
ting that, whereunto after death, he is to enter and be con-
fined. So great are the cares and griefs occafioned by the
goods of the earth, that they opprefs thoſe who most enjoy
them, and ſhut up the door to all mirth, leaving them in a
fad night of forrow. This is that which was repreſented
unto the prophet Zacharias, when before that the devils
came to fetch away the veffel, wherein the woman was en-
clofed, to be carried into a ftrange region in the land of
Sanaar, there to dwell for ever, the mouth of it was ſtopped
up with a talent of lead, and the impriſoned in darkneſs and
obfcurity; fignifying thereby, that before a worldling is
fnatched away by the devils, to be carried into the mournful
land of hell, even in this life he is hood-winked and placed,
in ſo great a darkneſs, as he ſees not one beam of the light
of truth; fo that no content or compleat joy, can ever enter
into his heart.
§. 2.
The reaſon why the goods of this life are troubleſome
and incommodious, even to life itſelf, is for the many dan.
gers they draw along with them, the obligations wherein
they engage us, the cares which they require, the fears
which they caufe, the affronts which they occafion, the
ftraights whereunto they put us, the troubles which they
bring along with them, the inordinate defires which accom-
pany them, and finally the evil confcience which they com-
monly have, who moft efteem them. With reafon did Chrift
our Redeemer call riches thorns, becauſe they enfuare and
wound us with danger, loffes, unquietness, and fears.
"When he ſhall be
Wherefore Job faid of the rich man,
"filled, he ſhall be traitened, he ſhall burn, and ail manner
"of grief ſhall fail upon him;" which St. Gregory expli-
cates in theſe words: "He is firſt troubled with a weari-
"nefs, in feeking how to compafs (fometimes by flattery,
"fometimes by terrors) what his covetoutnefs defires: and
"having obtained it, the follicitude of keep ng it, is no
"lefs vexatious. He fears thieves, and is affrighted with
"the power of great ones, left they should by violence,
* take his wealth from him; and if he meet one in want,
"preſently
*
CAP. X.
273
the Temporal and Eternal.
"preſently fufpe&ts he may rob him; and thoſe very things
"which he hath gathered together he fears, left their own
nature may confume them.
confume them. Since then the fear of all
"theſe things, is a trouble and vexation, the miſerable
"wretch fuffers in as many things as he fears." St. Chryf-
oftome alfo fays, that the rich man muft needs want many
things, becauſe he is content with nothing, and is a flave
of his avarice, ftill full of fears and ſuſpicion, hated, envied,
murmured at, and made the enemy of all men: whilſt the
poor life, which walks the king's high-way, fecured and
guarded from thieves and enemies, is a port free from ſtorms,
a ſchool of wiſdom, and a life of peace and quietnefs. And
in another place, he fays thus: "If thou halt well con-
"fider the heart of an avaricious and covetous man, thou
"ſhalt find it like a garment fpoiled, and conſumed with
"moths, and ten thouſand worms, fo corrupted and over-
72
come with cares, that it feems not the heart of a man.
Such is not the heart of the poor, which ſhines like gold, is
firm as a rock of diamonds, pleaſant as a roſe, and free
from fear, thieves, cares and follicitudes, lives as an angel
of heaven, preſent only to God and his fervice, whofe con-
verfation is more with angels than men, whofe treaſure is
God, not needing of any to ferve him, fince he only ferves
his Creator, whofe flaves are his own thoughts and defires,
over which he abfolutely commands. What more precious
than this, what more beautiful? But the little help which
humane life receives from temporal riches, cannot be better
expreffed, than by that which David fays, The rich have
wanted, and were a bungred: but those who feek the Lord,
fhall not be defrauded of all good. If then the abundance of
wealth, cannot free us from the neceffities of the body, how
fhall they reſcue us in the griefs and cares of the mind?
Neither are honours more favourable unto humane life.
What anguish of heart doth the fear of lofing them coft us,
and what ſhifts are we put to, to preferve them? great are
the inconveniencies, which many fuffer to fuftain them,
even to the want of neceffary food. For as Pharaob exa&-
ed things impoffible from the children of Ifrael, command-
ing that no ftraw fhould be allowed them for the burning of
their bucks, and yet that the fame tax and number ſhould
be impoſed as before: The fame tyranny is exerciſed over
many by the world, which takes away the ſtock and fub-
ftance, which they formerly had to fuftain themſelves, and
M m
yet
274
LI B. III.
The Difference betwixt
+1..
yet commands them fill to maintain the fame pomp and
eq age which they did, when they enjoyed it; fo that
many are forced by their honour (as they term it) to main-
tain a coach and lackies, which they need not, when they
have fcarcely wherewith to feed their hungry bellies. In
others, what imelancholy and fadnefs is fometimes cauſed by
a vain fufpicion, that fome have thought, or ſpoken ill of
m? fo many are the miſchiefs and vexations which this
counterfeit good draws along with it, that many have given
thanks to God, that he hath taken this burthen of honour
from them, that fo they might live in greater quiet and re-
pofe. Plutarch fays, That if a man were offered two ways,
whereof the one led to honour, and the other to death, he
fhould chose the latter Lucian defiring to exprefs it more
fully, feigns that one of the Gods refufed his Deity, becauſe
he would not be troubled with being always honoured. He
invents this lie, to make us believe the truth which we have
ſpoken.
1
The excefs alfo of pleafures, what miferies doth it heap
upon us what infirmities doth it engender in our bodies?
what torments and refentments in cur confciences? for as
he, who wanders out of his way, without reflecting on it, is
by the briers, bufhes, pits, and unevenefs of the ground, put.
in mind, that he hath loft himſelf, which, although he be
otherwiſe well accommodated, yet troubles and afflicts him:
So the ways and paths of a delicious man cry unto him, that
he goes aftray, and must therefore cauſe a melancholy, and
a fadnefs in his heart. Well faid St. Gregory (m), that he
was a fool, who looked for joy and peace in the delights of
the world; for thoſe are the effects of the Holy Ghost, and
companions of righteoufnefs, which are far removed from
the cares and vanities of the earth. Befides all our pleaſures
are fo intermixed with trouble and importunities, that it is
the greateſt pleaſure to want them. Epicurus, who was a
great ftudier of pleafures, did, as St. Jerome writes (n), en-
rich all his books with fentences of temperance and fobriety;
and he hath ſcarce a leaf, which is not filled with pot herbs,
fruits, roots, and other mean food of ſmall trouble: the fol-
licitude in fetting forth of banquets, being greater than the
delight we receive in their abule. Diogenes in the fame
manner, and other philofophers, deſpiſed pleaſures as preju-
(m) Hom. 10. in Ezechiel.
(n) Higron, contra Jovinian.
}
dicial
CAP. X. the Temporal and Eternal.
275
dicial to the commodities of life, paffing for that cauſe their
lives in great poverty. Crates flung all his goods into the
fea: and Zeno was glad his were drowned with a tempeft.
Ariftides would not admit the bounty of Calicias; and Epa-
minondas was content with one coat, living in poverty and
temperance, to the end he might live with content and ho-
nour, and free from neceffities, which are often greater
amongst the rich than the poor. Riches make not their
maſters rich, who live in perpetual covetoufnefs, and are ne-
er fatisfied with their coffers. Wherefore the Holy Ghoſt
fpeaking of thofe, who are called rich, and of the poor of
the gospel, fays, thofe are as it were rich, and enjoy nothing,
and theſe are as it were poor, and poffefs all things. For
which reafon St. Gregory noted, that our Saviour Chrift
called not the riches of the world abfolutely riches, but falfe
and deceitful riches. Falle, in regard they cannot continue
long with us; deceitful, becauſe they cannot fatisfy the ne
ceffities of life.
§. 3.
It is more to be feared, when the goods of this life caufe
the evils of the other, and that they not only rob us of the
content of the prefent, but occafion the torments of the fu-
ture, and after one hell in this life, throw us down into an-
other after death. Well faid St. Jerome in one of his epiftles,
that it was a difficult thing to enjoy both the goods prefent,
and to come, to pafs from temporal pleaſures to eternal, and
to be great both here and there; for he who places his whole
felicity in pampering himſelf here, will be tormented here-
after: and he who is unjustly flattered and honoured here,
ſhall be justly ſcorned and defpifed there. This was well
declared by St. Vincent Ferrer, in a compariſon of the faul-
con and the hen. The hen whilft fhe lives, feeks her food
in the dirt and dunghills, and at beſt, feeds now and then
upon fome bran or light corn; The faulcon on the contrary
is cheriſhed, carried upon his maſter's fift, and fed with the
brains of birds and partridges; but after death, they change
their conditions; for the faulcon is flung upon the dunghill,
and the hen ſerved to the table of kings. As Jacob changed
his hands, placing his right hand upon his grand-child, who
ftood upon his left fide, and his left hand upon him who
Hood upon the right, preferring the younger before the el-
der;
276
LIB. III.
The Difference betwixt
der; fo God uſes to change his hands after death, and pre-
fer the younger, who are the poor and defpifed in this life.
For this Christ our Redeemer, pronounces fo many woes
againſt the rich of this world. Woe be unto you rich, who
rejoice in this world: ye fhall weep in the next; Woe be
unto you, who are now filled: you fhall hunger hereafter,
Woe be unto them, who have their heaven here; it is to be
feared, a hell will fucceed it. Let us tremble at what was
ſpoken unto the rich glutton; Thou didst receive pleaſure in
this life and for this eternal evils fucceeded thee after death,,
changing hands with poor Lazarus, who received evils in
this life, and after death, enjoyed the pleaſures of the other.
The rich man, who wanted not abundance of precious wines
in this life, wanted a drop of water to cool his tongue in the
next; And Lazarus, who here wanted the crumbs of bread
that fell from his table, was feafted with the fupper of eter-
nal happineſs. The prophet Jeremiah writes, that Nabu-
zardan carried away the rich captives unto Babylon, and left
the poor in Jerufalem; becauſe the devil carried away the
flaves, and lovers of riches unto Babylan, which is the con-
fufion of hell, and leaves the poor in fpirit in Jeruſalem,
which is the vifion of peace, that they may there enjoy the
clear fight of God.
The felicity of temporal goods, blots out of our memories
the greatness of the eternal; it makes us forget God, and
the happineſs of the other life; it blinds thoſe who poffefs
them, bufies them wholly in things of the earth, and gives
them that means and opportunities for vices, which the
poor have not, who either work, or ferve their mafters, or
pray. Wherefore the enjoying of temporal goods is fo
dangerous, that St. Paul calls riches, The fnares of the devil.
And if in all fnares, there be falfhood and danger, how falfe
and dangerous must be the fnares of fatan. Even Diogenes
was aware of this truth, and therefore calls them a Vail of
malice and perdition. St. Jerome fays, that anciently there
were two notable proverbs in prejudice of the rich; The
firſt, That he, who was very rich, could not be a good man;
The fecond, That he, who was rich, had either been a bad
man, or was the heir of a bad man; and admonishes us,
that the name of rich in the holy fcripture, is most common-
ly taken in an ill fenfe; and to the contrary, in a favourable
that of the poor. The truth is, that the holy fcripture is full
of contumelies, against the rich of this world, and above all,
1
the
CAP. X.
277
the Temporal and Eternal.
the Son of God, who uttered moſt notable and fearful ex-
preffions, against thoſe who abound in temporal goods; and
therefore when he taught the beatitudes, he gave the firft of
them unto the poor; and in preaching the woes, he gave
the first unto the rich. And upon another occafion faid, it
was impoffible for the rich, to enter into the kingdom of
heaven. And although he was willing to mitigate fo hard
a fentence, yet he faid, it was difficult, and fo difficult, as
might make the rich of the world to tremble, for he affures
us, it is cafier for a camel to paſs through the eye of a nee-
dle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of hea-
ven. But with God nothing is impoffible. From all that
which hath been faid may be gathered, how worthy of con-
tempt and hatred are all temporal goods, fince they deceive
us not only of our content in this life, but of our felicity in
the other, and even of God himſelf. What implacable ha-
tred would a faithful and honeſt ſpouſe conceive againſt the
traytor, who counterfeiting the fhape and habit of her huf-
band, ſhould violate her chaſtity? how would ſhe abhor him,
when ſhe knew the injury he had done her, in a matter of
that importance? In the fame manner are we betrayed by
temporal felicity, who appearing unto us in the likeness of
the true happineſs, makes our hearts to adulterate with it,
and leaves our lawful fpoufe, and true good indeed, which
is God. For certainly there is no perfe& felicity, but in his
ſervice, and compliance with his holy will in this life, that
we may enjoy him eternally in the next; and therefore tem-
poral goods, which by their deceit cozen us, and make us
loſe the eternal, ought not to be loved and followed, but
hated as a thouſand deaths.
THE
ॐ
भे
THE FOURTH BOOK
OF THE
DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL and ETERNAL.
A
CA P. I.
Of the greatness of things Eternal.
}
LTHOUGH the littleness, and bafeneſs of
things temporal, be in themſelves fuch as we have
already ſeen, yet unto him who fhall confider the
greatneſs and majefty of the eternal, whereof we now begin.
to treat, they will appear much lefs, and more contemptible.
For fuch is the greatnefs of that glory, that St. Auſtine (0)
falls into theſe ſpeeches; "If it were requifite every day to
"fuffer torments, or to remain in hell itſelf for fome long
"time, to the end, we might behold Chrift in his glory,
"and enjoy the company of faints, were it much to fuffer
"what is grievous and painful upon earth, that we might
"be partakers of fo great a happineſs ?" which ſpeech of
St. Auftine, is not to be taken as an exaggeration; as neither
that, which is attributed to St. Jerome: That it is a wonder
that the ftones under the feet of thoſe who ſhall be damned,
convert not into roſes, as an anticipated folace of thofe evils
which they are to fuffer: And that to the contrary, thoſe
(o) Auguf. in Man,
under
CAP. I.
279
the Temporal and Eternal.
under the feet of them, who are to be faved, turn not into
thorns, to wound and chaſtiſe them for their fins, fince for
fo ſhort troubles, they are to receive unfpeakable joys. This
greatness of eternal goodness, confifts not only in the eterni-
ty of their duration, but in their intention alfo, as being fu-
preme and without limit in their excellency. And therefore
we ought not to think much at the fuffering of a thouſand
years torments, if for them we might obtain thoſe bleffings,
but for one day. Whereupon St. Aufline (p) fays, " Such
"is the beauty of righteouſneſs, fuch the joy of that eternal
"light, of that immutable truth and wiſdom, that although
So
we were not to continue in it above one day, yet for fo
"ſhort a time, a thousand years in this life, repleniſhed
"with delights, and abundance of all goods temporal, were
"justly to be defpifed. For it was not fpoken amifs, that
"better is one day in thy courts above a thouſand."
that whereas it is commonly faid, that for eternal joys, we
ought to leave the temporal and frail goods of the earth,
which are ſhort and tranfitory. St. Aufline fays, that if thofe
of heaven were fhort, and theſe of earth eternal, yet we
ought to forfake theſe for thoſe.
This is confirmed by that, which is written by Thomas de
Cantiprato and others (q); That the devil being demanded
by an exorcift, what he would fuffer to fee God, answered,
That he would fuffer all that the damned in hell, men and
devils were to fuffer, until the day of judgment, only that
he might enjoy the fight of him but for fome fhort time.-
How can we then complain of the fhort troubles of this life,
which are to be recompenced, with the clear vifion of God
for ever, when his profeffed enemy would fuffer fo much,
only to enjoy it for an inſtant? Cato having only read that
difcourfe of Socrates, concerning the immortality of the
foul, thought it nothing to part with this life, and tear his
bowels in pieces, that he might enjoy that eternal liberty of
the foul, freed from the incumbrances and oppreflions of
the body. Heroldus writes (r), that Frier Jordan, general
of the holy order of the Preaching-friers, exercifing a pof-
feffed perfon, the devil amongst other anfwers, to his de-
mands, told him, That he had never feen the face of God,
but only during the twinkling of an eye; and that to fee it
(p) Auguf. de libero arb. 3.
(9) Lib. 2. c. 57. N. 67.
(r) J. Herol. in Prom. Exem.
fo
28a
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
1
fo much longer, he would willingly fuffer all the pains of
his companions, until the day of judgment. Frier Jordan
remained astonished at this answer, and recalling himſelf a
little, he faid unto him: Thou haft faid well; But declare
me his beauty, by fome fimilitude or reprefentation. Thou
haft moved a foolish que ion, replied the fpirit; for there is
no expreffing of it. But to give fome fatisfaction to thy
defire, I fay, that if the heauties of all creatures, heavens,
earth, flowers, pearls, and all other things, that can give
any delight to the fight, were all comprized in one only
thing; if every one of the ftars yielded as much light as the
fun, and the fun fhined as bright, as all they together; all
this un ted fo together, would be in refpect of the beauty of
God Almighty, as a dark pitchy night, in refpect of the
clearest and brighteſt day Where by the way it is to be
obſerved, that the devils never faw God clearly, as the an-
gels in glory now behold him, but only by the excellency
of their nature, attained to fome particular and advantage-
ous knowledge of his beauty and divine perfections and joy,
which refulted from that knowledge. And if to enjoy that
once again for ſo ſhort a time, they would endure thofe tor-
ments for fo long a ſpace, what ſhall it be to behold him
clearly in his glory? Certainly to be roaſted, plucked in pie-
ces with pincers, to be burned alive for a thouſand years,
were well employed to enjoy that felicity but for a day.
What ſhall it be to poffefs it for an eternity, when the joy
affo of each day fhall be equivalent to many years? Where-
fore Jobannes Major (s) reports, that a certain Monk being
at Mattins, with the other religious of his monaftery, and
coming to that verfe of the pfalm (t), where it is faid, A
thousand years in the prefence of God are but as yesterday,
which is already patt, began to imagine with himself how
it might be poffible: and remaining in the quire (as his
manner was) after the end of Mattins, to perfect his devo-
tions, he humbly befought the Lord, to grant him the true
underſtanding of that piace; which he had no fooner done,
but he perceived a little bird in the quire, that with flying
up and down before him, by little and little, with her molt
melodious finging, infenfibly drew him forth of the church,
into a wood not far off, where pearching herſelf upon a
bough, the for fome fhort time, as it feemed to him, conti-
nued
(3) Jeh. Major. Ex. 14.
(t) Ex. Coll. Pfal. 89.
CAP. I.
281
the Temporal and Eternal.
nued her mufie, to the unspeakable delight of the Monk,
and then flew away, leaving him by her abfence, no less
fad and penfive. But feeing the came no more, he returneđ
back, thinking he had left his monaftery the fame morning,
immediately after Mattins, and that it was now about the
third hour but coming to the convent, which was near the
wood, he found the gate, by which he was accuſtomed to
enter, to be mured up, and another opened in fome other
part, where calling upon the porter, he was demanded who
he was, From whence he came, and what was his buſineſs:
He answered, that he was the Sacriftan of the church, and
that having that morninng gone abroad after Mattins, he
found all things at his return changed. The porter demand-
ed of him the name of the abbot, the prior, the procurator.
He named them all, and wondered he was neither under-
ſtood, nor permitted to enter, and when they feigned not to
know thofe religious, whom he mentioned, and defired to
be brought to the abbot; but coming into his prefence, nei-
ther the abbot knew him, nor he the abbot; whereat the
good Monk being much aftoniſhed, knew not what to fay
or do. The abbot aſked him his name, and that of his ab-
bot; and turning the annals of the monaftery, found it was
more than three hundred years, fince the death of thoſe
perfons which he named. Whereupon the Monk making
a relation of what had happened unto him concerning the
pfalm, they acknowledged him, and admitted him as a
brother into their profeffion, where having received the fa-
craments of the church, he with much peace ended his days
in our Lord.
If the pleaſure of one ſenſe, did ſo raviſh the foul of this
fervant of God, what fhall it be, when not only the hear-
ing, but the fight, fmell, tafte, the whole body and foul
ſhall be drowned in joys proportionable to the fenfes of the
one, and power of the other? If the music of a little bird
did fo tranſport him, what fhall the mufic of angels? what
ſhall the clear vision of God? what ſhall God himself do,
when he makes oftentation, if fo I may fay, of his omnipo-
tency? For as Affuerus, who reigned from India to Ethio-
pis, over 170 provinces, made a great feaft for all his prin-
ces, which lasted 181 days: So fhall this king of heaven
and earth make his great fupper of glory, which fhall laft
for all eternity, for the fetting forth of his majesty, and for
the honour and entertainment of his fervants: where the
N n
joys
282
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
1
joys fhall be fuch, as neither the eye hath feen, nor the ear
hath heard, nor hath entered into the heart of man. O
baſeneſs of temporal goods, what proportion do they hold
with this greatneſs, fince they are fo poor, that even time,
from whence they Have their being, makes them tedious.
and not to be endured? Who could continue a whole
month without other diverfion in hearing the choiceft mu-
fic? nay, who could país a day free from weariness without
fome change of pleaſures? But fuch is the greatneſs of thoſe
joys, which God hath prepared for them who love and fear
him, as we ſhall ftill defire them afreſh, and they will not
cloy us in a whole eternity.
§. 2.
St. Anselme (u) obferves this difference, betwixt the goods
and evils of this life and the other, that in this life neither
of them are pure, but mixed and confuſed. The goods are
imperfect, and mingled with many evils; and the evils ſhort
and mingled with fome good. But in the other life, as the
goods are most perfect and pure, without the leaſt touch of
any ill, and fo can never weary us, (for that were an evil :)
fo to the contrary thofe evils of hell, in which there is no
good at all, are horrible and above all ſufferance.
Eternal glory therefore is great, both in refpe& of its
purity, being free from any ill, and in refpe&t of its perfcc-
tion, being highly and excellently good. David faid, That
God had removed our fins from us, as far as the Eaft is
diſtant from the Weft; which he hath not only verified in
the guilt of fin, but in the punishment, which is as far re-
moved from the bleffed, as heaven is from earth. And al-
though the fpiritual diftance betwixt them be greater than
the corporal, yet that we may from hence form fome con-
ception of that alfo, we will fay as much as our weakneſs is
able to attain unto of this. Our famous mathematician
Chriftopher Calvius (x) fays, that from the fphere of the
moon, which is the loweſt heaven unto the earth, are one
hundred and twenty thoufand, fix hundred and thirty
miles and from the heaven of the fun, four millions thirty
thouſand, nine hundred and twenty three miles: and from
the firmament or eighth heaven, one hundred fixty one
millions,
(u) Anfelm. lib. de fimil.
(x) Clavius in Sphæ, c. 1.
1
CAP. I.
283
the Temporal and Eternal.
millions, eight hundred fourſcore and four thousand nine
hundred and forty three miles. Here Plato wills the mathe-
maticians to cease their enquiry; for from hence there is no
rule of meaſuring further; but without all doubt, it is much.
farther from thence to the imperial heaven. For the only
thickness of the ftarry-fphere, is faid to contain as much as
the whole ſpace, betwixt that and the earth: Infomuch, as
if a mill ſtone were thrown from the higheſt of the firma-
ment, and ſhould every hour fall two hundred miles, it
would be 90 years before it arrived at the earth. The ma-
thematicians alfo, and fome learned interpreters of the holy
fcripture affirm, that the diſtance from the earth unto the
highest of the firmament, is less than that from thence to
the lowest of the imperial heaven; and therefore conclude,
if one ſhould live two thousand years, and every day ſhould
travel a hundred miles, he fhould not in all that time, reach
the lowest of the firmament; and if after that, he fhould
alſo travel other two thousand years, he ſhould not reach the
highest of it; and from thence four thousand years, before
he arrived at the loweſt of the imperial heaven. O power
of the grace of Jefus Chrift, which makes us in a moment
dilpatch fo great a journey! That noble matron who was
tormented and put to death in England, ſaid unto thoſe with
grief and horror, that beheld her martyrdom, "So ſhort
is the way which brings us to heaven, that within fix
"hours, I shall mount above the fun and moon, tread the
"ſtars under my feet, and enter into the heaven of the
"bleffed. But there was no need of fix hours; one little
inftant brings the fouls of the bleffed thither; which being
purified from their fins and pains, remain further diftant
from the one and the other, than heaven is from earth.
Proportionable unto this diſtance of place is the advantage,
which the greatneſs of heaven hath above that of earth:
and the fame holds in their bleffings. Let us mount then
with this confideration thither, and from that height let us
deſpiſe all this mutable world, fince even the Gentiles did it.
Wherefore Ptolemy (y) faid; " he is higher than the world,
"who cares not in whofe hands the world is." And Cicero,
"What humane thing can feem great unto him, unto
"whom eternity and the greatness of the other world are
"known. All the earth feems fo little unto me, that I am
forry and ashamed of our empire, with which we have
GC
(y) Ptolom, in Præfa, Almageſ. Tull. in Som. Scip.
66
only
}
284
The Difference betwixt
66
LIB. IV.
"only touched fome little part of it." All the kingdoms
of the earth are but as a point, and unto Boetius feemed
but as a point of a point. But of Heaven, Baruch could
fay, "How great is the house of God, How large is the
"place of his poffeffion! it is great, and hath no need,
high and immeafurable. So great is the advantage of
things eternal above temporal, although they were not eter-
nal. O what fools then are they, who for one point of
earth loſe ſo many leagues of heaven: who for one ſhort
pleaſure, loſe things fo immenfe and durable! O the great-
nefs of the omnipotency and goodness of the divine liberali-
ty, which hath prepared fuch things for the humble and
little ones who ferve him. St, Auftine, whofe thoughts were
fo fublime, and whoſe underſtanding was one of the greateſt
in the world, found himſelf unable to exprefs them, nay
even to think of them. For being defirous to write of eter
nal glory, and taking pen in hand, he beheld in his cham-
ber a great light, and felt a ſweetneſs fo fragrant, as almoſt
tranſported him; and withal heard a voice which faid,
"Auftine, what doſt thou mean? dost thou think it poffible
"to number the drops of the ſea, or to grafp the whole
compaſs of the earth, or to make the celestial bodies fuf-
66
pend their motion that which no eyes have ſeen,
"wouldeft thou behold? that which no ear hath heard,
"wouldeſt thou conceive? that which no heart hath at-
"tained nor humane underſtanding imagined, doft thou
“think that thou only can't comprehend? What end can
"that have which is infinite? how can that be meaſured
"which is immenfe? Sooner fhall all thoſe impoffibilities
"be poffible? than thou understand the leaft part of that
"glory, which is enjoyed by the bleffed in Heaven." If
one, who had been ever bred in an obfcure dungeon, and
never had ſeen other light, than that of fome dim lamp,
were told that above the earth there was a fun, which en-
lightened the whole world, and caft his beams, far above a
hundred thousand leagues in circumference, all the dif
courſes which could be made unto fuch a one, would hardly
make him conceive the brightnefs and beauty of the fun;
much leſs can the glory of thoſe things of the other world
be made to appear unto us, though exemplified by compa-
rifons of the greatest beauty the world affords. So ineffable
bleffings are contemned by a finner, and all to make himſelf
defpicable and accurfed.
§. 39
CAP. I.
285
the Temporal and Eternal.
§. 3.
After the ſame manner the evils and pains of this world,
are nothing comparable un'o thofe which are eternal; and
therefore as the three hundred years enjoying of one hea-
venly pleaſure, feemed unto that fervant of God, no longer
than three hours; fo to the contrary three hours of eternal
pains, will appear unto the damned as three hundred years,
and much more: fince even of the temporal pains in Purga-
tory, this notable accident is written by St. Antoninus (z). A
man of an evil life, was vifited by our Lord with a long in-
firmity, to the end he might repent and reflect upon his
fins; which took effect. But his fickness by continuance,
grew fa grievous and tedious unto him, as he often with
great earneſtnefs recommended himself unto God, and be-
fought him, to deliver him from the prifon of his body.
Whereupon an angel appeared unto him with this choice,
either to continue two years fick in that manner he was,
and then to go ſtraight to heaven, or to die inſtantly, and
remain three days in Purgatory. He was not long in his
election, but preſently chofe the latter: and immediately
died; but had not been an hour in thoſe pains, when the
fame angel appeared unto him again, and after fome encou-
ragement and confolation, demanded if if he knew him; he
answered, No., I am, faid he, the angel who brought thee
that choice from heaven, either to come thither, or to re-
main in thy infirmity for two years: To whom the afflicted
foul replied; It is impoffible thou ſhouldeſt be the angel of
the Lord: for good angels cannot lie; and that angel told
me, I ſhould remain in this place but three days; and it is
now fo many years, that I have fuffered thoſe moſt bitter
torments, and can yet fee no end of my mifery. Know then,
faid the angel, that it is not yet an hour fince thou left thy
body, and the rest of the three days yet remain for thee to
fuffer; To whom the foul replied, Pray unto the Lord for
me, that he look not upon my ignorance in making ſo foo-
lith a choice, but that out of his divine mercy he will give
me leave to return once more unto life, and I will not only
patiently fuffer thofe two years, but as many as it fhall pleaſe
him to impoſe upon me. His petition was granted, and be-
ing reſtored unto life, his experience of Purgatory made all
(z) St. Anton..p. 4. f. 4.
the
286
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
the pains of his infirmity feem light unto him; infomuch as
he endured them not only with patience but joy. Much
like unto this (as appears in the Chronicles of the Minorits)
happened unto a religious perfon of the Order of St. Francis,
(a) who demanded the fame of God Almighty, in regard of
the much trouble he put his religious brethren unto, as alfo
for what he ſuffered himſelf. An angel appeared unto him,
and gave him his choice, either of fuffering one day in Pur-
gatory, or remaining a whole year longer fick as he was.
He made choice to die prefently; and had fcarce been one
hour in Purgatory, when he began to complain of the angel
for having cozened him. The angel appeared unto him
again, certifying him, that his body was not yet buried, be-
cauſe there was one only hour paſt fince his death. He gave
him his choice the fecond time. His foul was prefently re-
united to the body, and he rofe out of his bed to the great
aſtoniſhment of all. If this then paſs in Purgatory, it will
not be leſs in hell; and if an hour feem a year, which con-
tains above eleven thouſand hours, an eternity in hell will
appear eleven thouſand eternities. O how dearly bought
are the ſhort pleafures of the fenfes which are paid for, with
fo long and fo innumerable torments! For if pain ſhould laſt
no longer than the pleafure that deferved it, it would feem
to thoſe, who are to feel it, ten thousand times longer.
What will it do being eternal? O pains of this world, in-
firmities, griefs and troubles, how ridiculous are ye compa-
red with thoſe which are eternal: fince the time which you
endure is but ſhort, and it is not much that you can affli&
us; nay, if by temporal puniſhment we may eſcape the
eternal, you are moft happy unto us, and ought to be recei
ved with a thouſand welcomes.
CA P. II.
The greatness of the eternal honour of the Juft.
LET us now in particular, confider the greatneſs of
thofe goods of the other life, in which are contained
(a) Chron. S. Fran. 2. p. 1. 4. c. 8.
honours,
CA P. II.
287
the Temporal and Eternal.
honours, riches, pleaſure, and all the bleffings both of foul
and body; of cach whereof we ſhall fay fomething a-part,
and will begin with that of honour. Certainly the reward
of honour, which fhall be conferred upon the juft in the
other life, is to be wonderful great; First, in reſpect, that
amongst all the appetites of a reaſonable creature, that of
honour is the most potent and prevalent. Secondly, becauſe
our Saviour exhorts us unto humility, as the way by which
we are to enter into glory, and promifeth honours and exal-
tations unto the humble; and there is no queftion but in
that place of fatiety, remuneration and accompliſhment of
all, that can be defired, the honour of the fervants of Chriſt
and followers of his humility, ſhall be inexpreffible, of which
there are many promifes in holy fcripture. He himself fays,
That his Father will honour them in heaven; and David
fings; Thou hast crowned him with glory and bonour; and
Ecclefiafticus (as it is applied by the church) A crown of gold
upon bis bead, graven with the feal of bolinefs, and the glory
of bonour. Befides, all the tribute, which thoſe who ferve
God are able to pay him, is only to laud and honour him.
His eternal joy, happiness, and all his intrinfical perfections
are fo excellent, that they can receive no addition; only this
glory and honour, as they are an exterior good, are capable
of augmentation. And this is that, which he receives from
the faints who ferve him: With which God is ſo pleaſed,
that he pays them again in the fame money, and honours
thoſe who honoured him; and this honour arrives at that
height, that Chrift himself expreffes it in thefe words; He
wbo fball overcome, I will give him to fit with me in my
throne, even as I bave overcome, and have fitten with the Fa-
ther in his throne. At the greatness of which promiſe a doc-
tor being amazed, cries out (b); "How great fhall be that
glory, when a juft foul fhall in the prefence of an infinite
"number of angels, fit in the fare throne with Chriſt, and
"ſhall by the juſt ſentence of God, te praiſed for a con-
queror over the world, and the invifible powers of Hell!
"and how fhall that foul rejoice, when it-fhall fee itſelf, be-
CC
ing freed from all dangers and troubles, to triumph over
"all its enemies! What can it defire more, than to be par-
"taker of all thofe divine goods, and even to accompany
"Chrift in the fame throne? O how chearfully do they
"combat upon earth: O how eafily do they bear all afflic
(b) Bell. 1. 1. de æterna felici, c. 4. in fine,
❝tions.
288
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
tions for Chrift, who with a lively faith and certain hope,
apprehend fo fublime honours!" Certainly with much
reaſon may the happinefs of faints be called by the name of
glory, fince the honour which they receive is fo tranfcen-
dent. What an honour ſhall that be, when the just in the
other life fhall receive no less a recompence of his holiness
than God himself? The nature of honour is to be a reward
of virtue and by how much greater the reward is, which
a powerful king beftows upon fome valorous captain, by fo
much greater is the honour which he confers upon him.
What honour ſhall it then be, when God fhall give unto
thoſe who have ferved him, not only to tread upon the ſtars,
to inhabit the palaces of heaven, to be lords of the world,
but tranfcending all that is created, and finding amongst
his whole riches nothing fufficient to reward them, fhall give
them his own infinite effence to enjoy, not for a day, but to
all eternity? The highest honour which the Romans bestow-
ed upon their greatest captains, was to grant them a day of
triumph, and in that permiffion to wear a crown of graſs or
leaves, which withered the day following. O moft honour-
ed virtue of chriftians, whofe triumph fhall be eternal, and
whoſe never-fading crown is God himself! O most happy
diadem of the juft, O most precious garland of the faints,
which is of as great worth and value, as is God! Sapores
king of the Perfians, was most ambitious of honour, and
would therefore be called the brother of the fun and moon,
and friend to the planets. This vain prince erected a moft
glorious throne, which he placed on high, and therefore fat
in great majeſty, having under his feet a certain globe of
glafs, whereon were artificially reprefented the motions of
the fun, the moon and ſtars and to fit crowned above this
phantaſtical heaven, he eſteemed as a great honour. What
Thall be then the honour of the juft, who truly and really
fhall fit above the fun, the moon and firmament, crowned
by the hand of God himself? If the applaufe of men, and
the good opinion which they have from others, be efteemed
an honour, what fhall be the applaufe of heaven, and the
good opinion not only of faints and angels, but of God him-
felf, whofe judgments cannot err? David took it for a great
honour, that the daughter of his king, was judged as a re-
ward of his valour. God furpaffes this; and honours fo
much the ſervices of his elect, that he pays their merits with
no leſs a reward than himself. O happy labour of the victo-
rious,
CAP. II.
289
the Temporal and Eternal.
rious, and glorious combat of the juft, against the vices and
temptations of the world, whofe victory deſerves fo ineftima-
ble a crown! Clemens Alexandrinus reports, that there were
in Perfia three mountains; He, who came to the firft, heard
as it were afar off, the noiſe and voice of them who were
fighting, he who attained at the fecond, heard perfe&ly the
cries and clamours of foldiers, engaged in the fury of a bat-
tle; but he who attained unto the third, heard nothing but
the joyful acclamations of a victory. This happens really
with the juft, who are likewife to pafs three myftical moun-
tains, which are reaſon, grace and glory. He who arrives
at the knowledge of reaſon, gives an alarm unto vice, which
he combats and overcomes by grace, and in glory celebrates
his victory, with the joy and applaufe of all the inhabitants
of heaven, and is crowned as a conqueror with ſuch a crown
as we have already spoken of.
§. 2.
i
Beſides this, he who is moſt known, and is praiſed and
celebrated for good and virtuous, by the greatest multitude,
is eſteemed the most glorious and honourable perfon. But
all this world is a folitude, in refpect of the citizens of hea-
ven, where innumerable angels approve and praife the vir
tuous actions of the faints; and they likewife are nothing,
and all creatures, men and angels, but as a folitary wilder-
nefs in reſpect of the Creator. What compariſon betwixt
that honour which may be given by fome particular king-
dom, or by all Europe, and that which fhall be heaped upon
the juft, by all the bleffed men and angels: nay even by the
damned and devils in the day of judgment? What is the
approbation of a created underſtanding in refpe&t of the Di-
vine? What man fo glorious upon earth, whofe worth and
valour hath been known to all? Those who were born be-
fore him could not know him; no more ſhall many of thoſe
who are to follow him. But the predeftinate in heaven,
fhall be known by all paff and to come, by all the angels,
and by the king of men and angels. Humane fame is
founded upon the applaufe of mortal men, who befides being
leſs than angels, may be deceived, may lie, and are most
part of them finners and wicked. How far then muſt that
honour exceed it, which is conferred upon the just by the
holy
290
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
;
holy angels, and by thoſe bleffed and pure fouls, who can-
not be deceived themfelves, nor will deceive us? If we ef-
teem it more to be honoured by the kings of the earth, by
the great men of the world, and by the learned in univerfi-
ties, than by the barbarous and ignorant peaſants of fome
poor village, how ought we then to value the honour, which
fhall be bestowed upon us by the faints in heaven, who are
the kings and grandees of the court of God, and are all re-
pleniſhed with most perfect and divine wifdom? All the
honour of men is ridiculous, and his ambition po wiler who
feeks it, than, as St. Anfelme fays (c), if one worm fhould
de fire to be honoured by another. All the earth is but as a
village, or rather as fome poor cottage in refpe&t of heaven.
Let us not therefore ftrive for a name upon earth, but that
our names may be written in heaven; in compariſon where-
of it is too much to fay, that the earth is a point, as Seneca
called it (d): and therefore Boctius proves, that it is lefs,
and lays; "If from this little particle of earth, you fhall
"take what feas, lakes, and uninhabited places full of wild
"beafts, take up, you fhall leave unto men but a narrow
dwelling. Being therefore penned up in fo fmall a point
"of a point, how can't thou think to extend thy renown
" and publifh thy name?" Compare the honour of heaven
with that of earth, and thou fhalt find the difference betwixt
them, to be as great as is their diſtance. Of this incompara-
ble Honour in heaven, have been fome revelations of great
comfort. It was revealed to St. Gertrude, that, as often as
St. Jofeph was named here upon earth, all the bleffed in hea-
ven made a low bow. What greater honour can be ex-
pected? what compariſon can all the expreffions of reſpect,
and adorations of all the men in this world have with one
only inclination, and reverence expreffed by one faint of
heaven? What then fhall be a reverence exhibited by them
altogether? The church fays of St. Martin, that at his en-
trance into heaven he was received with celeftial hymns,
that is, with ſongs, which the bleffed fung in praiſe of his
prowels and victory. If Saul thought the honour too much,
which was given to David by the damfels, when they cele
brated his victory in their fongs. What fhall it be to be ce-
lebrated by all the faints and angels, in celeftial refponfories!
Cardinal Bellarmine (e) conceives, that when a fervant of
(c) Lib. de Sim. c. 65.
(d) Lib. 2. de Confol.
(e) Bellar, de ater. felic. lib. 4. c. 2.
God
J
CAP. IL
291
the Temporal and Eternal.
God enters into heaven, he ſhall be received with fuch mu-
fic, all the bleffed in heaven, often repeating theſe words in
the gospel; "Well done good fervant and true; becaufe
"thou hast been faithful in a few things, thou shalt be pla-
"ced over much; enter into thy Lord's joy:" Which
words they fhall repeat in quires. This fhall be a fong of
victory, an honour above all the honours of the earth, con-
ferred by to great, fo wife, fo holy, and fo authentic perſons.
Whereupon St. Auflin faid (f), There fhall be the true glo
ry, where none ſhall be praiſed by the error or flattery of the
praifer; and there the true honour, which ſhall neither be
denied to the worthy, nor granted to the unworthy.
6. 3.
Although the honour and applauſe, which the juſt receive
in heaven from the citizens of that holy city, be incompara-
ble, yet that honour and refpect, with which God himself
thall treat them, is far above it. Chrift our Redeemer to
expreſs it, ufes no meaner a fimilitude, than that of the ho-
nour done by the fervant unto his Lord: and therefore ſays,
that God himſelf fhall, as it were, ferve the bleffed in hea-
ven at their table. It is much amongſt men, to be feated at
the table of a prince; but for a king to ferve his vaffal, as
if he himſelf were his fervant, who ever heard it? Certain-
ly with much reaſon, David ſaid unto God, That his fer-
vants were too much honoured. And the fame David, when
he caufed Mipbibofeth (although the grand-child of a king,
and the ſon of an excellent prince, unto whom David owed
his life) to fit at his table, he thought he did him a fingular
honour: but this favour never extended to wait on him.
Aman, who was the moſt proud and ambitious man in the
world, could not think of a greater honour from king Affu-
erus, than to ride through the streets mounted upon the
king's own horfe, and that the greatest man in the kingdom
ſhould lead him by the bridle; but that the king himſelf
ſhould perform that fervice, never entered into his imagina-
tion. The honour which God bestows upon the just, ex-
ceeds all humane imagination, who, not fatisfied with crown-
ing all the bleffed with his own divinity, giving himſelf to
be poffeffed and enjoyed by them for all eternity, does alfo
honour
(f) Lib. 22. de Civit. 6. 30.
292
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
honour their victories and heroic actions with new crowns:
Thomas de Cantiprato (g) writes of Alexander, brother to
St. Matilda, and fon to the king of Scots, that he appeared
unto a certain Monk with two crowns, and being demand-
ed why he had them doubled, he answered, This which I
wear upon my head is common unto me, with all the blef-
fed, but that which I carry in my hand, is given me for re-
nouncing my kingdom upon earth. But above all, the
martyrs, virgins, and doctors hall appear moſt glorious,
whom God thall honour, with certain particular marks of.
honour, by which they fhall be known, and diftinguished
from the rest of the bleſſed: which feals and marks fhall be
imprinted in their fouls, like the indelible characters of bap-
tiſm, confirmation and priesthood, which are to endure for
all eternity. Of the doctors the prophet Daniel fays, They
fhall fhine like the ftars in the firmament: giving us to un-
derſtand, that as the ftars excel the other parts of the firma-
ment, by the advantage of their light, fo the doctors fhail
be known in heaven, by a more glorious fplendor, which
they ſhall caft from them. And if the leaft faint in heaven,
fhall ſhine ſeven times more than the fun, what ſhall that
light be, which fhall out fhine fo many funs? Of the mar-
tyrs St. Joon faith, That they went cloathed in white, car-
rying palms in their hands in fign of victory. For as kings
are honoured by wearing purple, and holding fceptres, fo
conquerors by their candid garments and palms. The fame
St. John alfo fays of virgins, That the name of Christ and
his Father, fhall be imprinted in their fore-heads: which
fhall be as a token to diſtinguiſh them from the reft of the
faints, conformable unto that of the prophet Ifaias, who
fays, that a more noble and excellent name fhall be given
to virgins, than unto the rest of the fons of God; by which
name St. Auguftine fays, is meant fome particular deviſe,
which fhall diftinguish them from the reft, as the more emi
nent men are diftinguiſhed from others, by their ſeveral ti
tles of honour. Befides this, thofe members of the bleffed,
by which they have more eſpecially ferved God or ſuffered
for him, fhall (as St. Auftine notes) caft forth fome particu-
lar light and ſplendor: fo as every wound, which St. Stephen
receiving from his ftoning, fhall caft forth a particular beam
of light. And with what a garment of glory fhall St. Bar-
tbolomew be clad, who was flead from head to foot? In the
(g) Lib. 10. Apum.
'like
CAP. II.
293
the Temporal and Eternal.
like manner St. James Intercifus, who was hacked in pieces,
member by member for the faith of Chrift. Even the con-
feilors in thoſe fenfes, which they have mortified for Chrift,
hall have a particular enamel of light. St. John the Evan-
gelift was the wed to St. Matilde, with a particular fplendor
and glory in his eyes, for not dating to lift them up, to look
upon our Bleffed Lady, when he lived with her, for the
great eſteem and reverence he bore unto her. There is no
kind of honour, which fhall not then be given to the heroi-
cal acts of virtue, performed by the faints in this life, which
ſhall be to be read, in the particular perfons of the predef
tinate; fo as there fhall be no neceffity of hiftories, annals,
or ftatues to make known or eternize their memories, as here
in worldly honours, which being short, tranfitory, and of
fmall endurance, have need of fomething to preferve them
in the memory of men. For this the Romans erected ſta-
tues unto thoſe, whom they intended to honour, becauſe
being mortal, there should fomething remain after death, to
make their perfons and fervices, which they had done to the
common-wealth, known to pofterity. But in heaven there
is no need of this artifice; becauſe thoſe who are there ho-
noured are immortal, and fhall have in themſelves fome
character engraved, as an evident and clear teftimony of
their noble victories and atchievements. The honour of the
juſt in heaven depends not, like that of the earth, upon ac•
cidents and reports, nor is expoſed to dangers, or meaſured
by the difcourfe of others, but in itſelf contains its own glo-
ry and dignity. The dignities in the Roman empire (h), as
may be gathered from the civil law, were four, expreffed
by theſe four titles, Perfecliffimus, Clariffimus, Spectabilis,
& Illuftris, moft Perfect, most Clear, Spacious, and Illuf-
trious. Thefe honours were only in name and reputation,
not in fubftance and truth. For he was often called moft
perfect, who was indifcreet, fooliſh, paffionate, and imper-
fect: He molt clear, who had neither clearness nos ferenity
of underſtanding, but was infected with dark and obfcure
vices. Thoſe ſpecious and beautiful, from whom a man
would fly twenty leagues rather than behold them; and
thofe illuftrious, who were enveloped in the darknefs of vice
and ignorance, without the leaft light of virtue. That we
may
therefore fee the difference betwixt the honours of hea-
ven, and thofe of the earth, which are as far diſtant from
(h) Cuiac. ad . de dignit.
one
294
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
one another, as truth from falfhood, we muſt know that in
heaven, the bleffed are not only called most perfect,, but
really are ſo both in foul and body, without the leaſt imper-
fection or defect are not only called moſt clear, but are ſo,
cach one being adorned with that gift of brightnefs, that
they ſhall caſt out beams more clear than the ſun; and if
the fun be the moſt bright thing in nature, what fhall they
be who ſeven times out fhine it? Nor fhall they be only faid
to be ſpectabilis or fpecious, and worthy to be looked upon,
but their beauty and comelinefs fhall be fuch, as ſhall not
only draw the eyes of all to behold them, but ſhall ſtir up
their affections to love and admire them. In the like man-
ner they ſhall not be titularly, but really illuftrious: for eve-
ry one with his own light, fhall be fufficient to illuftrate and
enlighten many worlds. If one only falle title of thofe,
which are truly enjoyed by the bleffed, were capable of
making the Roman empire, to respect and honour the pof-
feffor, what fhall the truth and ſubſtance of them all do in
heaven? With reafon did Mathathias call the glory of his
world dung and filth: becanſe all honours atd dignities of
the earth, in refpect of thoſe in heaven are bafe, vile, and
deſpicable. What greater honour, than to be friends of
God, fons, heirs, and kings in the realm of heaven? St.
John in his Apocalpys, fets forth his honour of the bleffed
in the 24 Elders, who were placed about the throne of God,
and in that honour and majeſty, as every one was feated in
his prefence, and that upon a throne, cloathed in white and
lucid garments, in fign of their perpetual joy, and crowned
with a crown of gold in refpe&t of their dignities. To be
covered in the prefence of kings, is the greatest honour they
confer upon the chiefeft grandees; but God caufes his fer-
vants, to be crowned and feated upon thrones before him:
and our Saviour in the day of judgment, makes his difciples.
his fellow-judges.
§. 4.
Certainly greater honour cannot be imagined, than that
of the Predeftinate. For if we look upon him, who honours,
It is God; If with what: With no lefs joy than his own
dignity, and other moſt ſublime gifts; If before whom: Be-
fore the whole theatre of heaven now, and in the day of
judgment, before heaven, earth, angels, men, and devils;
If
CAP. II.
295
the Temporal and Eternal.
If the continuance: For all eternity; If the titles which he
gives them, it is the truth and fubftance of the things, not
the empty word and vain name. By all this may appear
the cause, why eternal happineſs, being a maſs and an af-
fembly of all goods imaginable, yet is called (by way of ex-
cellence) by the name of glory; becauſe that although it
contain all pleaſures, contents, joys, riches, and what can
be defired, yet it feems the glory and honour which God
beſtows upon the juft, exceeds all the other. 'The honour
which God give in heaven to glorious fouls, may be ſeen
by that which he gives to their worm-eaten bones upon
earth. Whereof St. Chryfoftome fpeaks in thefe words (i)
"Where is now the fepulchre of the great Alexander? fhew
"it me I beseech thee, and tell me the day whereon he-
"died. The fepulchres of the fervants of Chriſt are ſo fa-
"mous, that they poffefs the most royal and imperial city
"of the world, and the day whereon they died, is known
"and obferved as a feftival by all. The fepulchre of Alex-
"ander is unknown even, to his own country-men; but
"that of theſe is known to the very barbarians. Befides
"the fepulchres of the fervants of Chrift, excel in fplendor
"and magnificence the palaces of kings, not only in ref
pect of the beauty and fumptuoufness of their buildings,
wherein they alfo excced, but, which is much more, in
"the reverence and joy of thoſe who repair unto them.
"For even he, who is cloathed in purple, frequents their
"tombs, and humbly kiffes them, and laying afide, his ma-
"jefty and pomp, fupplicates their prayers and affiftance
"with God Almighty, he who wears the diadem, taking a
"fiſher-man, and a maker of tents for his patrons and pro-
"tectors." What miracles hath not God wrought by the
relicks of his fervants, and what prodigies have not been ef-
fected by their bodies? St. Chryfoftome writes (k) of St. Fu-
ventius, and St. Maximus, that their bodies after death, caft
forth fuch beams of light, that the eyes of thoſe who were
prefent, were not able to fuffer them. Sulpicius Severus
writes of St. Martin, that his dead body remained in a man-
ner glorified, that his flesh was pure as chryftal, and white
as milk. What wonders did God work by the bodies of St.
Edward the king, and St. Francis Xavier, preferving them
(i) In 2. ad Corinth. Hom. 26.
(k) Chryfoft. in Serm. de Juven. & Max. Sever. in Ep. ad
Socrum.
incorrupted
}
>
296
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
incorrupted for fo many years? and if he do thofe great
things with their bodies, who are under the earth, what will
he do with their fouls, which are above the heavens, and
what with them both, when their glorious bodies fhall arife,
and after the day of judgment, united to their fouls, enter
in triumph into the holy and eternal city of God.
T
CA P. III.
Of the Riches of the eternal Kingdom of Heaven.
HE riches in heaven are no less than the honours,
though thofe, as hath been faid, are ineftimable
There can be no greater riches than to want nothing which
is good, nor to need any thing which can be defired; and in
that bleffed life no good ſhall fail, nor no defire be unfatisfi-
ed. And if, as the philofophers fay, he is not rich who pof-
feffeth much, but he who defires nothing, There being in
heaven no defire unaccomplished, there must needs be great
riches. It was alſo a pofition of the Stoicks, That he was
not poor who wanted, but he who was neceffitated. Since
then in the celeſtial kingdom, there is neceffity of nothing,
moſt rich is he who enters into it. By reafon of thefe divine
richés, Chriſt our Saviour, when he ſpeaks in his parables
of the kingdom of heaven, doth often exprefs it under
names, and enigma's of things that are rich; fometimes
calling it the hidden treafure, and fometimes the precious
pearl, and other times the loft drachma. For if divine hap-
piness confift in the eternal poffeffion of God, what riches
may be compared with his who enjoys him, and what inhe-
ritance to that of the kingdom of heaven? What jewel more
precious than the divinity, and what gold more pure than
the Creator of gold, and all thing precious, who gives him-
felf for a poffeffion and riches unto the faints, to the end
they ſhould abhor thoſe riches which are temporal, if by
them the eternal are endangered? Let not therefore thofe
who are to die to morrow, affli&t themſelves for that which
may perish boner than they. Let them not roil to enjoy
that, which they are shortly to leave; nor let them with
more fervour pray for thofe things which are tranfitory,
than
CAP. III.
297
the Temporal and Eternal.
than thoſe which are eternal, preferring the creature before
the Creator, not feeking God for what he is, but for what
he gives. Wherefore St. Aufline fays (1), "God will be
"ferved gratis, will be beloved without intereſt, that is,
"purely for himself, and not for any thing without him-
"felf; and therefore he who invokes God to make him
rich, does not invoke God, but that which he defires
"fhould come unto him; for what is invocation, but call-
ing fomething unto him: Wherefore when thou ſhalt
fay; My God give me riches, thou dost not defire that
"God, but riches fhould come unto thee; for if thou hadſt
❝ invoked God, he would have come unto thee, and been
"thy riehes but thou defired'it to have thy coffers full,
"and thy heart empty, and God fills not chefts but breaſts.
ረ
ર
66
§. 2.
Befides the poffeffion of God, it imports as much, to
frame a conception of this kingdom of heaven, which is that
of the juft, where they fhall reign with Chrift eternally,
whofe riches muft needs be immenfe, fince they are to be
kings of fo great and ample a kingdom. The place then
which the bleffed are to inhabit, is called the kingdom of
heaven, becauſe it is a moſt large region, and much greater
than can perhaps fall under the capacity of our underſtand.
ing. And if the earth compared with heaven, be but a point,
and yet contain fo many kingdoms, what fhall that be which
is but one kingdom, and yet extended over the whole hea-
vens? How poor and narrow a heart must that chriſtian
have, who confines his love to things prefent, fweating and
toiling for a ſmall part of the goods of this world, which it-
felf is fo little? why does he content himſelf with fome poor
patch of the earth, when he may be Lord of the whole hea-
vens? Although this kingdom of God be fo great and ſpa-
cious, yet it is not difpeopled, but as full of inhabitants of
all nations and conditions, as if it were a city, or fomé par-
ticular houſe. There (as the apostle faid) are many thou-
fands of angels, an infinite number of the juft, even as many
as have died fince Abel: and thither alſo ſhall repair all who
are to die, unto the end of the world, and after judgment,
fhall there remain for ever inveſted in their glorious bodies.
There fhall inhabit the angelical fpirits, diftinguished with
Pp
(1) Aug. in Pfal. 52.
great
298
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
great decency into their nine orders, unto whom ſhall cor-
refpond nine others of the faints, patriarchs, prophets, apof-
tles, martyrs, confeffors, paftors and doctors, priefts and
levites, monks and hermits, virgins, and other holy women.
This populous city, fhall not he inhabited with mean and
baſe people, but with citizens fo noble, rich, juſt and diſ-
creet, that all of them fhall be most holy and wife kings.
How happy fhall it be, to live with fuch perfons? The
queen of Sata only to fee Solomon, came from the end of
the earth; and to fee Titus Livius, nations and provinces
far diftant came to Rome. To behold a king iffue out of his
palace, all the peopie flock together. What fhall it then be,
not only to fee, but to live and reign with fo many angels,
and converſe with ſo many eminent and holy men? If only
to fee St. Anthony in the defert, men left their houſes and
conntries, what joy fhall it be to diſcourſe and converſe with
fo many faints in heaven? If there ſhould now deſcend from
thence one of the prophets or apofles, with what earneſtneſs
and admiration would every one ſtrive to fee and hear him?
In the other world, we ſhall hear and fee them all. St. Ro-
manus at the fight of one angel, when he was a Gentile,
left the world and his life, to become a chriftian. How ad-
mirable ſhall it then be, to fee thoufands of thouſands in all
their beauty and greatnefs, and fo many glorious bodies of
faints in all their luftre? If one fun be fufficient to clear up
the whole world here below, what joy fhall it be, to behold
thoſe innumerable funs, in that region of light?
From this multitude of inhabitants, the place of glory is
not only called the kingdom of heaven, but the city of God.
It is called a kingdom for its immenfe greatneſs, and a city
for its great beauty and population. It is not like other king-
doms and provinces, which contain huge deferts, inacceffi-
ble mountains, and thick woods: nor is it divided into many
cities and villages diftant one from another; but this king-
dom of God, although a moft fpacious region, is all one
beautiful city. Who would not wonder, if all Spain or Italy
were but one city, and that as beautiful as Rome, in the
time of Auguftus Cafar, who found it of brick, and left it of
marble? What a fight were that of Chaldæa, if it were all
a Babylon; or that of Syria, if all a Jerufalem? What fhall
then be the celeftial city of faints, whofe greatnefs poffeffes
the whole heavens: and is as the holy fcripture deſcribes it
(to exaggerate the riches of the faints) all of gold, and pre-
cious
}
ĆA P. III.
the Temporal and Eternal.
299
cious ftones? The gates of this city were, as St. John fays,
one entire pearl, and the foundations of the walls jafper,
faphire, calcedon, emerald, topaz, jacinth, amethift, and
other moft precious ftones; The ſtreets of fine gold, fo pure-
as it ſeemed chryftal, joining in one fubftance the firmness.
of gold, and tranfparency of chryftal, and the beauty both
of one and the other.
If all Rome were of Saphire, how would it amaze the
world? how marvellous then will the holy city be, which
though extended over fo many millions of leagues, is all of
gold, pearl, and precious ftones; or to fay better, of a mat-
ter of tar more value, and peopled with fuch a multitude of
beautiful citizens, as are as far above any imaginable num-
ber, as the capacity of the city is above any imaginable
meaſure? Some famous mathematicians fay of the empyrial
heaven, that it is fo great, that if God fhould allow unto
every one of the bleffed, a greater space than the whole
earth, yet there would remain as much more to give unto
otbers; and that the capacioufnefs of this heaven is fo great
that it contains more than ten thouſand, and fourteen milli-
ons of miles. What wonder will it be, to fee a city ſo great
of fo precious matter? The divines confefs, the capaciouf-
neſs of this heaven to be immenſe, but are more willing to
admire it, than bold to meaſure it (m). Howsoever there
wants not one, who fays, that if God fhould make each
grain of fand upon the fea-fhore, as big as the whole earth,
they would not fill the concave of the empyrial heaven; and
yet this holy city poffeffeth all that ſpace, and is all compofed
of matter, far more beautiful and precious than gold, pearl
and diamonds. For certain our thoughts cannot conceive
fo great riches and wonders; for which we ought to undergo
all the pains and neceffities of this world. St. Francis of
Affifium (n), being afflicted with a grievous pain of his eyes,
infomuch as he could neither fleep, nor take any reft, and
at the fame time, molefted by the devil, who filled his cell
with rats, which with their careers and noiſe, added much
unto his pain, with great patience gave thanks unto the
Lord, that he had fo gently chaftifed him, faying, My Lord
Jefus Chrift, I deferve greater punishment; but thou like a
good Shepherd, fuffer me not to stray from thee. Being in
this meditation, he heard a voice, which faid unto him;
(m) Joan. Galier in fuo Peregrino.
(n) Chron. Frat. Min. p. 1. c. 60.
Francis
300
LIB. IV
The Difference betwixt
Francis, if all the earth were of gold, and all the rivers of
balfam, and all the rocks of precious ftones, wouldeſt thou
not fay, that this were a great treaſure? Know that a trea-
fure, which exceeds gold, as far as gold does dirt, balfam-
water, or precious ftones pebbles, remains as a reward for thy
infirmity, if thou be content and bear it with patience. Re.
joice Francis; for this treaſure is celeftial glory, which is
gained by tribulations. Certainly we have reafon to ſuffer
here all pains and poverty whatsoever, fince we are to re-
ceive in glory fo much the greater riches. Wherefore we
ought to lift up our fouls, and weaning our hearts from the
frail felicity of thefe temporal goods of the earth, to fay with
David, Glorious things are faid of the city of God. So did
Fulgentius, who entering Rome, when it was yet in its luftre,
and beholding the greatnefs, beauty, and marvellous archi-
tecture of it, faid with admiration; O celeftial Jerufalem,
bow beautiful must thou be, if terreftrial Rome be fuch! A
Thadow of this was hewed unto St. Fofaphat, whofe hiftory
is written by St. John Damafcen (0). St. Jofathet being in
profound prayer proftrate upon the earth, was overtaken with
a fweet fleep, in which he faw two men of grave demean-
our, who carried him through many unknown countries,
unto a field full of flowers and plants of rare beauty, laden
with fruit, never before feen. The leaves of the trees moved
with a foft and gentle wind, yielded a pleafant found, and
breathed forth a moft fweet odour; there were placed many
feats of gold, and precious ftones, which fhined with a new
kind of brightnefs; and a little brook of chryftal-water re-
freshed the air, and pleaſed the fight with a moft agreeable
variety. From thence he was brought into a most beautiful
city, whofe walls were of transparent gold, the towers and
battlements were of ftones of ineftimable value, the streets
and places fhone with celeftial beams of light: And there
paffed up and down, bright armies of angels and feraphins,
chanting fuch fongs, as were never heard by mortal ears.
Amongst other, he heard a voice, which faid, This is the
repofe of the juft, this the joy of thofe, who have given a
good account of their lives unto God. But all this is no
more than a dream and a fhadow, in comparifon of the
truth, greatness, and riches of that celeftial court. In regard
that all the bleffed, together with Chrift, are to reign in this
moſt rich city and kingdom, how great fhall the riches be?
(0) In vita Jofaph. & Barl.
who
CAP. HI.
301
the Temporal and Eternal.
who was ever fo rich, as to have at the entrance of his
houſe, a maffy large piece of gold, two or three yards long?
What riches will thofe be of heaven? becaufe all the king-
dom of heaven is to be of pure gold, all the streets, and all
the houſes of that holy city; and not only gold, but more
than gold. The holy fcripture to make us on one part, un-
derſtand the riches of this kingdom of God, and on the
other part, to know that they are of a higher, and more ex-
cellent nature, than thoſe of the earth, expreffes them with
the fimilitude of the riches of this world, as gold, pearl and
precious ftones, becauſe by theſe names, we underſtand
things of great wealth and value: but withal fets them forth
for fuch as are not to be found upon earth; fo as when it
fpeaks of pearls, it fays, they were fo great, as they ſerved
for the gates of a city: when it fpeaks of emeralds and to-
paz's, it makes them to fuffice for the foundation cf high
walls and turrets; when of gold, it makes it tranfparent, as
glafs or chryftal. All this is to fignify that in heaven, there
are not only greater riches, but of a more fublime and high
quality, than ours upon earth. And with reaſon is that
holy city, called the kingdom of heaven, to let us know,
that the fame advantage that heaven hath above earth, the
fame have celeftial honours, riches and joys above thoſe
which are here below. If the whole earth is no more than
a point in reſpect of the heavens, what can thoſe ſhort and
corruptible riches be, in refpe&t of the eternal.
§. 3.
Of thoſe incomparable riches, the bleffed are not only to
be Lords but Kings, as appears in many places of holy
fcripture. Neither is the celestial-treasure, or this kingdom
of heaven lefs or poorer, by having fo many Lords and
Kings. It is not like the kingdoms on earth, which permit
but one king at once, and if divided, become of leſs power
and majesty but is of fuch condition, that it is wholly pof-
felfed by all in general, and by each one in particular, like
the fun, which warms all and every one, and not one lefs,
becauſe it warms many. The effects of riches are much
greater and more noble in heaven, than they can be upon
earth. Wealth may ferve us here, to maintain our power,
honours and delights: but all the gold in the world cannot
free
302
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
free us from weaknefs, infamy and pain. The power of a
rich king can reach no further than to command his vaffals;
and thoſe who difobey him, he may either chaſtiſe with im-
priſonment or death, and is therefore feared and refpected
by them. But all this power is invalid, without the affift-
ance of his fubjects. For what will it avail a prince, to
command ſuch a city to be defended, if the foldiers within,
have a mind to deliver it? And therefore a certain Jefter of
Philip the Second, king of Spain, demanded of him, if all
fhould fay No, unto what your majefty commands, what
was to be done? giving him to understand, that his power
depends upon others: The power of a monarch depends not
only upon the will of his fubjects, but the walls of his for-
treffes, arms, inftruments of war, and many other things;
ſo as the people depend only upon one man, which is the
prince: but the prince upon many men and matters, info-
much as many rich kings have been feen without power, as
Cræfus, Andronicus, and others, who were not able to de-
fend themfelves with all their riches, from their own vaffals..
Witneſs Domitian, Commodus, Heliogabolus and Julius Ca-
far. But the power of the bleſſed, depends on no other pow
er, nor man, which, as St. Anfelm fays (p), fhail be fo great
as no force or reſiſtance ſhall withſtand it. If a faint have a
mind to remove a mountain, from one place to another, he
ſhall do it with as much eaſe, as we remove our eyes from
one part unto another. Neither is this a wonder. For even
the faithful in this life, according to the promiſe of Chriſt,
have done it, as is written of St. Gregorius Thaumaturgus,
and fome others. And if angels, nay devils have this power,
the bleffed fhall not be denied it. Concerning honour, the
richeſt princes can only make their vaffals to adore them
upon the knee, and do them other outward reverence, but
cannot hinder them from murmuring in their abſence, or
from obſerving their actions, and interpreting them as they
pleaſe. They have many flatterers, which praiſe them with
their tongues, and ſcorn them in their hearts; and for the
moſt part they are far fewer, who praiſe, than deſpiſe them;
for there are but few, who difcourfe with them, but many
who diſcourſe of them; and therefore few who praiſe them
in preſence, and many who cenfure them in abfence. Con-
cerning pleaſures, it is true that princes are not content with
ordinary delights, and therefore provide themſelves of mag-
(p) Anfel. de Simil, c. 52.
nificent
CAP. IV. the Temporal and Eternal.
303
nificent ſhews, coftly recreations, exquifite comedies, plea.
fant gardens, woods for hunting, and are all cloathed ſplen-
didly. But none of thofe can make a calenture not to afflict
them, or that the pains of the head, ftomach, or gout, do
not moleft them, or that cares and fears, do not break their
fleep.
No gold or money can fecure the goods of this world, or
free them from imperfections. This only is to be had in.
heaven, where their power is fo free from weakness, that
one only angel without army, guns, fwords, or launce could
deſtroy at once 180000 men (q). With what ſpeed and fa-
cility do faints fuccour their devotes, who invoke them,
without impediment either from the diſtance of place, or hin-
derance from the violence of tyrants? How compleat then.
ſhall be the honour of the bleffed, fince even the devils ſhall
reverence them? Nay even now many who defpifed them
living, feeing the many miracles which God hath wrought
by their interceffion, have honoured them after death. The
pleaſures alſo are pure and true, without mixture of pain or
grief, as we fhall fee in the proper places. Befides, it is to
be confidered, that the great riches of the faints, are not like
thoſe of the kings of the earth, drawn from the tributes im-
poſed upon their vaffals, which though juſt, yet are not free
from this ill condition, that which enricheth the prince im-
poverisheth the fubje&t. The riches in heaven have no fuch
blemishes; they are burthenfome to none; and what is
given to the fervants of Chrift, who reigns in heaven, is not
taken from any.
CA P. IV.
Of the greatness of Eternal Pleafures.
HONOUR, profit and pleaſures, are diftin& goods upon
earth, and are rarely found together. Honour is fel-
dom a companion of profit, and profit of pleaſure; And fo
the fick man drinks his purge, becauſe it is profitable how
bitter foever. Befides, the pleaſures of the world are for the
moſt part mixed with fome fhame, and oftentimes with in-
(9) 4 Reg. 19.
famy.
304
The Difference betwixt
:
;
LIB. IV.
famy. They are coftly and expenfive; we cannot entertain
our pleaſures without diminishing our wealth. It is not ſo in
eternal goods, in which to be honeft is to be profitable, and
to be profitable delectable. Eternal honours are accompa-
nied with immenfe riches, and they are both attended by
pleaſures without end. All this is fignified by the Lord,
when he received the faithful fervant into glory, when he
fays, "Well done good fervant and true: becaufe thou
"haſt been faithful in a few things, I will place thee over
many; Enter into the joy of thy Lord." In thefe words
he first honours him, commending him for a good and
faithful fervant; then enriches him, delivering many things
into his hands and fo admits him into the joy and pleaſure
of his Lord; fignifying by this manner of expreffion, the
greatnefs of this joy, not faying, that this joy fhould enter
into him, but that he fhould enter into joy, and into no
other but that of his Lord. So great is the joy of that ce-
leftial Paradiſe, that it wholly fills and embraces the bleffed
fouls which enter into heaven, as into an immenfe fea of
pleaſure and delight. The joys of the earth enter into the
Hearts of thoſe who poffefs them, but fill them not, becauſe
the capacity of man's heart is greater than they can fatisfy.
But the joys of heaven receive the bleffed into themselves,
and fill and overflow them in all parts. Their glory is like
an ocean of delights, into which the faints enter as a fpunge
into the fea, which filling its whole capacity, the water
furrounds and compaffes it all about. Whereupou St. An
felme fays (r); " Joy fhall be within and without, Joy
"above and below, Joy round about on every fide, and all
parts full of joy.” The fame immenfity of joy the Lord
fignified, when he faid by Ifaias, Behold I create Ferufalem
an exultation, and her people a joy. It is much to be noted
that he fays not, I create a rejoicing for Jerufalem, or in
Jerufalem, nor a joy in or for its people, but by a particular
mystery I make Jerufalem, that it fhall be all an exultation,
and its people all a joy. He ſpeaks in this manner to ſet
forth the greatnefs of his copious joy, with which that holy
city and her inhabitants, fhall be as it were encompaffed and
over-whelmed. For as a plate of iron in the middle of a
furnace, is fo wholly inkindled and penetrated by fire, that
it ſeems fire itſelf, and contains the full heat of the furnace:
So a bleffed foul in heaven is fo repleniſhed with that celef
<<
(r) Anfel. ca. 71. de Simil.
tial
1
A
J
イイ
​CAP. IV.
305
the Temporal and Eternal.
tial joy, that it may not only be faid to be joyful, but joy
itfelt.
The multitude of joys in heaven, is joined with their
greatnefs and fo great they are, that the very leaſt of them
is fufficient to make us forget the greatest contents of the
earth; and fo many they are, as that, though a thoufand
times fhorter, yet they would exceed all temporal pleaſures,
though a thouſand times longer; but joining the abundance
of thofe eternal joys with their immenfe greatneſs, that eter-
nal blifs becomes ineffable. Wherefore St. Bernard lays;
"The reward of faints is fo great, that it cannot be mea-
"fured, ſo numerous, that it cannot be counted, fo copious
"that it cannot be ended, and ſo precious that it cannot be
valued.” And Albertus Magnus (s) to the fame purpoſe
"So great are the joys of heaven, that all the arithmetici.
ans of the earth cannot number them: The Geometrici-
ans cannot meaſure them: nor the moſt learned men in
"the world explicate them: becauſe neither eye hath feen,
68
nor car hath heard, neither hath it entered into the heart
"of man, which God hath prepared for thoſe who love
"him. The faints ſhall rejoice in what is above them,
"which is the vifion of God; in what is below them,
"which is the beauty of heaven, and other corporal crea-
"tures; in what is within them, which is the glorification
of their bodies; in what is without them, which is the
company of angels and men. God fhall feast all their
fpiritual fenfes with an unfpeakable delight; for he fhall
"be their object, and fhall alſo be a mirrour to the fight,
"mufic to the ear, fweetness to the taste, balfam to the
"fmell, flowers to the touch. There fhall be the clear light
"of fummer, the pleafantnefs of the fpring, the abundance.
"of autumn, and the repoſe of winter."
66
§. 2.
The principal joy of the bleffed, is in the poffeffion of
God, whom they behold clearly, as he is in himself. For
as honourable, profitable, and dele&table, (according to what
we have already faid) are not divided in heaven, fo the
bleffed fouls have three gifts, effential and infeparable from
that happy ſtate, which correfpond to thofe three kinds of
(s) Albert. Mag. in Comp. Theol. 1. 7. c. 7. 1 Cor. 2. Ifai. 64.
Q
bleffings,
1
LIB. IV.
306
The Difference betwixt
bleffings, which the divines call vifion, comprehenfion, and
fruition. The firft confifts in the clear and diftin& fight of
God, which is given to the juft as a reward of his merits,
by which he receives an incomparable honour, fince his
works and virtues are rewarded in the prefence of all the
angels, with no lefs a crown and recompence, than is God
him elf. The fecond is, the poffeffion which the foul hath
of God, as of his riches and inheritance. And the third,
is the ineffabie joy which accompanies this fight and poffef-
fion. The greatnefs of this joy no tongue can tell; and I
believe that neither the bleffed themſelves, who have expe
rience of it, nor the angels of heaven are able to declare it.
Yet it will not be amifs, if we (as much as our ignorance
and rudeness is able to attain unto) conûder and admire it.
This joy hath two fingular qualities, by which we may in
fome fort conceive the immenfity of it. The first, that it is
fo vigorous and powerful, that it excludes all evil, pain and
griet. This only is ſo great a good, that many of the phil-
ofophers held it for the chief felicity of man. And there-
fore Cicero (t) writes, that Jeronymus Rhodius, a famous
philofopher and a great mafter, to whom may be joined
Diodorus the Peripatetick, fpeaking of the chief happineſs of
man, taught, that it confifted in being free from grief; It
being the opinion of thoſe philofophers, that not to fuffer
pain or evil, was the greateſt and moſt fupreme good. But
herein was their error, that they judged that to be the good
itfelf, which was but an effe& and confequent of it. For
fo powerful is that love and joy, which fprings from the
clear vifion of God, that it is fufficient to convert hell into
glory; infomuch as if to the most tormented foul in hell,
were added all the torments of the reſt of the damned, both
men and devils, and that God fhould vouchfafe him, but
one glumpfe of his knowledge, that only clear vifion, though
in the lowest degree, were fufficient to free him from all
thoſe evils, both of fin and pain: So that his foul being
wrapped by that ineffable beauty which he beheld, would
not be ſenſible of any grief at all. O how potent a joy is
that, which caſt into fuch an abyfs of torments, converts
them all into confolations! How mighty were that fire,
whereof one ſpark would conſume the whole ocean? There
is no joy in this world fo intenfe, which can fufpend the
grief we fuffer from a finger, that is in fawing off. Griefs
(t) Cicero de Fin. & 5 Tufcul.
do
CAP. IV.
the Temporal and Eternal.
307
donore cafily bereave us of the fenfe of pleaſure, than plea-
fures do of pains. Yet fuch is the greatnefs of that fovereign
joy in heaven, that it alone is fufficient to drown all the
griefs and torments, both in earth and hell; and there is
no pain in the world, able to diminish the leaft part of it.
The other itupendous wonder which proceeds from the
greatneſs of this joy, is the multitude of thofe pleaſures,
which as from a mort fruitful root fprung from it. Who
would not be aftoniſhed, that the happiness of the foul fhould
cauſe ſo many, and fo marvellous effects in the bodies of
the bleffed? So excellent is that beatifical vifion, which with
ineffable joy poffeffes the fpirit, that it burfts forth into the
body, with all the evident demonſtrations of beauty, luſtre,
and the other gifts of glory. We fee here that the heart is
not able fo far, to diſemble a great joy conceived, as that
it appears not by fome fign in the body; but that joy is fo
weak and feeble, that it extends no further, than to exprefs
fome little chearfulneſs and mirth in the countenance. But
the beautiful vifion is fo immenfe a joy, that it wholly
changes the body, making it beautiful as an angel, refplen-
dent as the fun, immortal as a fpirit, and impaffible as God
himfelf, working great miracles and prodigies in the body,
by the redundancy of that unſpeakable comfort, which the
Spirit feels.
O if one could place before the eyes of the
world, the body of fome bleſſed faint, endowed with the four
gifts of glory, full of clearness, fplendour and beauty, caſting
forth a fragrancy infinitely more fweet unto the fenies, than
that of muſk and amber, that men might fee by this ſhadow
how immenfe is that light and joy, which thus illuftrates
and beautifies the flesh. O mortals, why do ye covet other
pleaſures, with loss of foul and body, and do not rather ſeek
after thefe, with the profit and glory of both? O how dif
ferent are temporal delights from eternal! thoſe (eſpecially
if they be unlawful) blemiſh and destroy the foul, and
weaken and corrupt the body; but theſe beautify and em-
bellish them both, conferring perfect happiness upon the
foul, and beauty and immortality upon the body.
§. 3..
}
Finally, all thofe joys of the bleffed, both in foul and
body, which are innumerable, have their fource and origi
nal from that unfpeakable joy, of the clear vision of God.
And
308
LI B. IV.
The Difference betwixt
And how can the joy be lefs, which proceeds from fuch a
caufe, who gives himfelf, being the fweetnefs and beauty
of the world, to be poffeffed by man, that joy being the
very fame which God enjoys, and which fuffices to make
God himſelf bleffed, with a bleffedneſs equal to himself?
Wherefore not without great myſtery in thoſe words, by
which our Saviour admits the faithful into heaven, it is faid,
Enter into the joy of thy Lord. He faid not fimply into joy,
but to determine the greatness of it, fays, it was his own
joy, that joy, by which he himſelf becomes happy, and truly
the immenfity of this joy, could not better be declared. We
are therefore to confider, that there is nothing in this world,
which hath not for its end, fome manner of perfection, and
that those things, which are capable of realon and know-
ledge, have in that perfection, a particular joy and compla-
cency, which joy is greater or leffer, according as that end
more or less perfect. Since therefore the divine perfection
is infinitely greater, than that of all the creatures, the joy of
God, which is in himſelf, (for he hath no end nor perfecti-
on diſtinct from himself) is infinitely greater than thar of all
things befides. This joy out of his infinite goodnefs and li
berality, he hath been pleafed to make the holy angels, and
bleffed fouls partakers of, communicating unto the juft (al-
though no ways due unto their nature) his own proper and
fpecial felicity. And therefore the joys of faints, which is
that of the beatifical vifion, wherein confifts the joy and hap-
pinefs of God, muft needs be infinite and unutterable, and
all contents of this world in refpect of it, are bitter as alloes,
gall and worm-wood.
Befides, by how much a delectable object is more nearly
and ſtraightly united to the faculty, by fo much greater is
the joy and delight which it produces. Therefore God,
who is the most excellent and delightful obje&t, being in the
beatifical viſion united to the foul, with the most intimate
union, that can be in a pure creature, muft neceffarily cauſe
a moſt inexplicable joy, incomparably greater than all the
joys real or imaginable, which can be produced, either by
the creatures now exiftent or poffible. For as the divine
perfection inclofeth within itſelf, all the perfections of things
created, poffible and imaginable, fo the joy, which it caufest
in the fouls of the bleffed, muſt be infinitely greater than all
other joys, which either have, or can be cauſed by the crea-
care. If the Greeks warred ten years, and lost fo much blood
for
}
CAP. IV.
309
the Temporal and Eternal.
for the beauty of Helen, And if it feemed a fmall thing un-
to Faceb, to ſerve fourteen years a flave for that of Rachel,
what trouble can ſeem great unto us to enjoy God, in com-
parifon of whofe beauty, all which the world affords is but
deformity? Abfalan and Adonis were most beautiful, and
with their very fight, drew love and admiration from their
beholders. But if looking upon Abfalon, another ten times
more lovely ſhould appear, we should quickly ceaſe to gaze
upon Afelon, and fix our eyes upon the other: and if a
third ſhould come a hundred times, more graceful than the
fecond, we ſhould ferve the fecond in the fame manner, and
our eyes and delight would still follow him, who was the
moft agreeable. God being then infinitely more beautiful
than we can either fee or think, and although he ſhould
create fome other creature, ten hundred thousand times
more beautiful than theſe we know, yet that, and one, ano-
ther million of times exceeding it, would both fall infinitely
ſhort of God himſelf, especially that beauty not being alone,
but accompanied with perfections without limit, with an
infinite wisdom, omnipotence, holiness, liberality, bounty,
and all that can be imagined good, beautiful and perfect,
which must neceffarily force the hearts of thoſe who fee him
(although before his enemies) to love and adore him.
Which is another proof of the joy which ſprings from the
beatifical vifion, in regard it works fo powerfully upon the
will of him that enjoys it, that it compels it by an abfolute
neceffity, to a moſt intenſe love, although it had before de-
teſted it; becauſe the joy must equalize the love which it
cauſed. If there were in the world, a man as wife as an
angel, we ſhould all defire to ſee him, as the queen of Saba
did Solomon; but if to this wisdom, were joined the ſtrength
of Hercules or Sampfon, the victories of Machabeus or Alex-
ander, the affability and courteſy of David, the friendliness
of Jonathan, the liberality of the emperor Titus, and to all
this, the beauty and comeliness of Abfalon, who would not
love and defire to live and converſe with this admirable per-
fon? Why then do we not love and defire the fight of God,
in whom all thofe perfections and graces infinitely above
theſe are united: which alſo we ourſelves, if we ſerve him,
are to enjoy, as if they were our own?
O how great and delightful a theatre, fhall it be to fee
God, as he is, with all his infinite perfections, and the per-
fections of all creatures, which are eminently contained in
the
310
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
the Deity! How admirable were that fpectacle, where were
repreſented all that are, or have been pleaſant or admirable
in the world! If one were placed, where he might behold
the feven wonders of the world, the fumptuous banquets
made by Affuerus, and other Perfian kings, the rare fhews
and feafts exhibited by the Romans, the pleafant trees and
favoury fruits of Paradife, the wealth of Crafus, David,
and the Affyrian and Roman monarchs, and all thoſe jointly
together, who would not be tranfported with joy and won-
der at fo admirable a fight? but more happy were he, upon
whom all theſe were bestowed, together with the affurance
of a thouſand years of life, wherein to enjoy them. Yet all
this were nothing in refpe&t of the eternal fight of God, in
whom thoſe, and all the perfe&tions, that either are, or have
been, or podibly can be, are contained. What ever elfe is
great and delightful in the world, together with all the plea-
fures and perfe&tions, that all the men in the world have
obtained, or fhall obtain to the world's end, all the wifdom
of Solomon, all the fciences of Plato and Ariftotle, all the
ftrength of Ariftomenes and Milo, all the beauty of Paris and
Adonis, if they fhould give all theſe things to one perfon, it
would have no compariſon, and would feem to be a loath-
fome thing, being compared only to the delight which will
be enjoyed in feeing God, for all eternity; becauſe in him
only will be ſeen a theatre of blifs and greatnefs, wherein
are compriſed as in one, the greatnefs of all creatures.
him will be found all the richneſs of gold, the delightfulneſs
of the meadows, the brightnefs of the fun, the fweet tafte of
honey, the pleaſantnefs of mufic, the beauty of the heavens,
the comfortable ſmell of amber, the contentfulness of all the
fenſes, and all that can be either admired or enjoyed.
In
To this may be added, that this inestimable joy of the
vifion of God, is to be multiplied into innumerable other
joys; into as many, as there are bleffed fpirits and fouls,
which fhall enjoy the fight of God, in regard every one is
to have a particular contentment of the blifs of every one.
And becauſe the bleffed fpirits and fouls are innumerable,
the joys likewiſe of every one ſhall be innumerable. This
St. Anfelme notes (u) in thefe words:
"With how great
"a joy fhall the juft be replenished, to accomplish whoſe
*bleffednefs, the joy of each other faint fhall concur? for
"every faint fhall love another equally as himself, fo he
(u) Anfel. de Simil. cap. 71.
** fhall
CAP. V.
the Temporal and Eternal.
own.
311
fhall receive equal joy from his happiness to that of his
And if he fhall rejoice in the happineſs of thole,
whom he loves equally unto himſelf, how much ſhall he
rejoice in the happineſs of God, whom he loves better
than himself?" Finally the bleffed foul fhall be fur-
rounded with a fea of joys, which fhall fill all his powers
and fenfes with pleaſure and delight, no otherwile than if a
(punge, that had as many fenfes of pleafures, as it hath
pores and eyes, were ſteeped in a fea of milk and honey,
fucking in that ſweetneſs with a thouſand mouths. God is
unto the bleſſed a ſea of ſweetneſs, an ocean of unſpeakable
joys. Let us therefore rejoice who are chriftians, unto whom,
fo great bleffings are promifed: let us rejoice that heaven
was made for us, and let this hope baniſh all fadness from
our hearts. Palladius (x) writes, that the Abbot Apollo, if
he faw any of his Monks fad, would reprehend him, fay-
ing, Brother, why do we affli& ourſelves with vain forrow?
let thofe grieve and be melancholy who have no hope of
heaven, and not we, unto whom Chrift hath promiſed the
bleffedness of his glory. Let this hope confort us, this joy
refreſh us; and let us now begin to enjoy that here, which
we are ever hereafter to poffefs; for hope, as Philo fays, is
an anticipation of joy. Upon this we ought to place all our
thoughts, turning our eyes from all the goods and delights
of the earth.
The prophet Elias, when he had taſted but one little drop
of that celeftial fweetnefs, prefently locked up the windows
of his ſenſes, covering his eyes, ears, and face with his man-
tle. And the Abbot Sylvauus, when he had finifhed his
prayers, fhut his eyes, the things of the earth feeming unto
him unworthy to be looked upon, after the contemplation
of the heavenly, in the hope whereof we only are to rejoice.
B
CA P. V.
How happy is the eternal life of the Just.
Y that which hath been faid, may fufficiently appear
how happy and bleffed is the life of the juft. But ſo
(x) Pallad. hift, ca. 52.
many
312
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
}
1
:
many are their joys, and fo abundant that eternal happineſs,
that we are forced to infist further upon this fubje&t. When
the Hebrews would exprefs a bleffed perfon, they did not
call him bleffed in the fingular, but bleffings in the abſtract,
and plural; and fo in the firft pfalm in place of Beatus, the
Hebrews ay Beatitudines; and certainly with much reafon :
fince the bleſſed enjoy as many bleffings, as they have pow
ers or fenfes Bleffings in their understanding, will and me-
mory; bleffings in their fight, hearing, mell, tafte and touch.
Nay, their bleffings exceed the number of their fenfes, and
the very pores of their bodies; fo as that life is truly a
life entire, total, and most perfe&, wherein all that is man,
lives in joy and happiness. The underſtanding ſhall live
there with a clear and fupreme wifdom, the will with an in-
flamed love, the memory with an eternal repreſentation of
the good which is paft, the fenfes with a continual dele&tati-
on in their objects. Finally, all that is man, fhall live in a
perpetual joy, comfort and bleſſedneſs.
And to begin with the life and joy of the underſtanding,
the bleffed, befides that fupreme and clear knowledge of the
Creator, whereof we have already fpoken, fhall know the
divine myſteries, and the profound fenfe of the holy fcrip-
tures; they fhall know the number of faints and angels, as
if they were but one; they fhall know the fecrets of the
Divine Providence, how many are damned, and for what;
they fhall understand the frame, and making of the world,
the whole artifice of nature, the motions of the ftars and
planets, the proprieties of plants, ftones, birds and beaſts,
and fhall not only know all things created, but many of
thofe things which God might have created; all which they
shall not only know jointly and in maſs, but clearly and
diftin&ly without confufion. This fhall be the life of the
underſtanding, which ſhall feaft itſelf with ſo high and cer-
tain rtuths. The knowledge of the greatest wife-men and
philofophers of the world even in things natural, is full of
ignorance, deceit and apparance, becauſe they know not the
fubftance of things, but through the fhell and bark of acci-
dents, fo as the moſt rude and fimple peafant arriving at the
height of glory, fhall be repleniſhed with a knowledge, in
refpe&t of which, the wifdom of Solomon and Ariftotle, were
but ignorance and barbariſm. Ludovicus Blofus (y) reports.
that a certain fimple and filly maid, appeared after death
(y) Bloff, de Mon. Spirit. c. 14,
unto
CAP. V.
313
the Temporal and Eternal.
unto St. Gertrude, and began to inftru&t her, in many high
and ſublime matters. The Saint admiring fuch great and
profound knowledge in fo ignorant a perfon, afked her from
whence he had it: to whom the virgin anfwered; Since I
came to fee God, I know all things. Wherefore St. Gregory
faid well," It is not to be believed, that the Saints, who
"behold within themselves the light of God, are ignorant
"of any thing without them."
:
What a content were it, to behold all the wife-men of
the world, and the principal inventers and mafters of fcien-
ces and faculties, met together in one room, Adam, Abra-
ham, Mofes, Solomon, Ifay, Zoroafies, Plato, Socrates, Arif-
totle, Pythagoras, Homer, Trifmegiftus, Solon, Lycurgus,
Hippocrates, Euclides, Archimedes, Theophraftus, Diofcori-
des, and all the doctors of the church? How venerable were
this juncto, how admirable this affembly, and what journies
would men make to behold them? If then to ſee ſuch im-
perfe& fcraps of knowledge divided amongſt ſo many men,
would caufe fo great admiration, what fhall be the joy of the
bleffed when each particular perfon fhall fee his own un-
derſtanding, furniſhed with that true and perfect wisdom;
whereof all theirs is but a fhadow? Who can expreſs the
joy they shall receive, by the knowledge of fo many truths?
What contentment would it be to one, if at once they ſhould
fhew unto him whatever there is, and what is done in the
whole earth the fair buildings fo fumptuous, all the fruit-
trees of ſo great diverſity, all living creatures of fo great va-
riety, all the birds fo curiously painted, the fiſhes ſo mon-
ftrous, the metals fo rich, all people and nations fartheſt re-
mote? certainly it would be a fight of wonderful fatisfaction.
But what will it be to fee all this, whatever there is in the
earth, together with all that there is in heaven, and above
heaven? Some philofophers in the difcovery of a natural
truth, or the invention of fome rare curiofity, have been
transported with a greater joy and content, than their fenfes
were capable of. For this Ariftotle spent fo many fleepless
nights; for this Pythagoras travelled into fo many ftrange
nations; for this Crates deprived himſelf of his wealth, and
Archimedes, as Vitruvius writes, never removed his thoughts
night nor day, from the inquifition of fome mathematical
demonſtration. Such content he took in finding out fome
truth, that, when he eat, his mind was bufy in making lines
and angles. If he bathed and anointed himfelf, as was the
cuftom
Rr
314
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IV.
cuſtom of those times, his two fingers ferved him in the
room of a compafs to make circles in the oil, which was up-
on his fkin. He spent many days in finding out by his ma-
thematical rules, how much gold would ferve to gild a
erown of filver, that the gold fmith might not deceive him:
and having found it, as he was bathing in a veffel of brafs,
not able to contain his joy, he fetched divers fkips, and cried
out, I have found it, I bave found it. If then the finding
out of fo mean a truth, could to tranfport this great artif,
what joy ſhall the faints receive, when the Creator (hall dif
cover unto them thote high fecrets, and above all that ſub-
lime mystery, of the trinity of perfons in the unity of ef
fence? This with the rest of thofe divine knowledges, where-
with the moſt fimple of the juft fhall be endued, fhall fatiate
their fouls with unspeakable joys. O ye wife of the world,
and ignorant before God, why do you weary yourſelves in
vain curioſities, buly to underſtand, and forgetful to love,
intent to know, and flow to work? Dry and barren fpecula-
tion is not the way to knowledge, but devout affection, ar-
dent love, mortification of the fenfes, and holy works in the
fervice of God. Labour therefore and deferve, and you
ſhall receive more knowledge in one inſtant, than the wife
of the world have obtained with all their watchings, travails
and experiences. Ariftotle, for the great love he bore to
knowledge, held that the chief felicity of man confifted in
contemplation. If he found fo great joy in natural fpecula-
tions, what ſhall we find in divine, and the clear vifion of
God?
There fhall the memory alfo live, reprefenting unto us
the divine benefits, and rendering eternal thanks unto the
author of all; the foul rejoycing in its own happinels, to
have received fo great mercies for fo fmall merits, and re-
membring the dangers from which it hath been freed by di-
vine favour, it fhall fing the verfe in the pfalm, The Snare
is broken, and we are delivered. The remembrance likewife.
(as St. Thomas teaches) of the acts of virtue and good works
by which heaven was gained, shall be a particular joy unto
the bleffed, both in respect they were a means of our happi-
neſs, as alſo of pleafing fo gracious and good a Lord. This
joy, which refults from the memory of things paft, is fo
great, as Epicurus, prefcribing a way to be ever joyful and
pleaſant, adviſes us to preferve in memory, and to think of
ten of contents paft. But in heaven we ſhall not only joy
in
+
CAP. V.
315
the Temporal and Eternal.
in the memory of thofe things, wherein we have pleafed
God in complying with his holy will, and in ordering and
difpofing our life in his fervice, but in the troubles alſo and
dange we have paft. The memory of a good loft without
remedy, caufes great regret and torment, and to the con-
trary, the memory of fome great evil avoided and danger
efcaped, is moft fweet and delectable. The wife-man faid,
the memory of death was bitter, as indeed it is to thoſe who
are to die, but unto the faints, who have already paft it,
and are fecure in heaven, nothing can be more pleaſant :
who now to their unspeakable joy, know themſelves to be
free from death, infirmity and danger.
There alſo ſhall live the will, in that true and vital life,
rejoicing to fee all its defires accomplished; with the abun--
dance and ſweet fatiety of fo many felicities; being neceffi-
tated to love fo admirable a beauty as the foul enjoys, and
poffeffes in God Almighty. Love makes all things fweet,
and as it is a torment to be feparated from what one loves,
1o it is a great joy and felicity to remain with the beloved;
And therefore the bleffed, loving God more than themſelves,
how unspeakable a comfort mult it be to enjoy God, and the
fociety of thoſe whom they fo much affect? The love of the
Mother makes her delight more in the fight of her own
Son, though foul and of worfe conditions, than in that of
her neighbours. The love then of faints one towards ano-
ther, being greater than that of mothers to their children,
and every one of them being fo perfect and worthy to be be-
loved, and every one enjoying the fight of the fame God,
how comfortable must be their converfation? Seneca faid,
That the poffeffion of what good foever was not pleafing
without a partner. The poffeffion then of the chief good,
muſt be much more delightful with the fociety of fuch ex-
cellent companions. If a man were to remain alone for
many years, in fome beautiful palace, it would not pleafe
him to well as a defert with company; but the city of God
is full of moſt noble citizens, who are all ſharers of the fame
blefednels. This converfation allo being with wife, holy
and difcreet perfonages, fhall much increase their joy. For
if one of the greate it troubles of humane life, be to fuffer
the ill conditions, follies, and impertinencies of rude and ill-
bred people, and the greatest content to converfe with fweet,
pious, and learned friends, what ſhall that divine converfa-
tion be in heaven, where there is none ill conditioned, none
impious,
316
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
impious, none froward, but all peace, piety, love and ſweet-
nefs? infomuch as St. Auftine fays (z), "Every one ſhall
"there rejoice as much in the felicity of another, as in hist
હડ
own ineffable joy, and fhall poffefs as many joys as he
"fhall find companions. There are all things, which are
"either requifite or delightful, all riches, eafe and comfort.
"Where God is, nothing is wanting. All there know
"God without error, behold him without end, praiſe him
"without wearine fs, love him without tedioufnefs, and in
"this love repofe full of God." Befides all this the fecu-
rity which the will fhall have, in the eternal poffeffion of
this felicity, is an unſpeakable joy. The fear that the good
things which we enjoy, are to the end, or at leaſt may end,
mingles worm-wood with our joys; and pleafures do not
reliſh, where there is danger. But this celeftial happineſs
being eternal, neither fhall nor can end, diminish, or be en-
dangered, but with this fecurity adds a new joy unto thoſe
others of the faints.
§. 2.
Befides the powers of the foul, the fenfes alfo fhall live
nouriſhed, with the food of most proportionable and delight-
ful objects. The eyes fhall ever be recreated, with the fight
of the most glorious and beautiful bodies of the faints. One
ſun ſuffices to chear up the whole world. What joy then
ſhall one of the bleffed conceive, in beholding as many funs
as there are faints, and in feeing himſelf one of them, when
his hands, feet, and the rest of his members, ſhall caft forth
beams clearer than the fun at mid-day? how fall he be
transported in beholding the body of the holy Virgin our
moſt bleſſed Lady, more beautiful and refplendant than the
light of all the faints together? When St. Dionyfius Arcop-
agita beheld her in a mortal body, the feemed unto him as
if ſhe had been in glory. With what joy then and gladnefs
ſhall we look vpon her in heaven clad with immortality?
Of Hefter the holy fcripture tells us, that he was incompa-
rably beautiful, and of moſt rare features, raviſhing the eyes
of all, and exceedingly amiable. With how far greater ex-
cellency will the Queen of Heaven appear, full of all graces
and privileges of beauty in the happy ſtate of glory? But
above all, with what content and admiration fhall we behold
(2) Aug. lib. de Spiritu & anima,
the
CAP. V.
317
the Temporal and Eternal.
the glorous body of Chrift our Redeemer, in compariſon of
whofe fplendor, that of all the faints fhall be as darknefs,
from whole wounds fhall iffue forth rays of a particular
brightnefs? The tormented members alfo of the Martyrs,
and the mortified parts of the confeffors, fhall flouriſh with a
fingular beauty and fplendor. Befides all this, the glory and
greatness of empyrial heaven, and the luftre of that celeftial.
city, fhall infinitely delight the bleffed citizens.
The ears fhall be filled with moft harmonious fongs and
mufic, as may be gathered from many places of the Apoca-
lyps; and if the harp of David delighted Sau fo much, as it
affwaged the fury of his paffions, cat forth the Devils, and
freed him of that melancholy, whereof the wicked fpirit
made ufe. And that the lyre of Orpheus, wrought fuch
wonders both with ren and beafts, what fhall the harmony
of Heaven do? The devout virgin Donna Sancha Carillo,
(a) being fick and ready to die with exceffive pain, with
the hearing of mufic from heaven was freed from her grief,
and remained found and healthy. St. Bonaventure writes of
St. Francis, that whilft an angel touched his inftrument, it
feemed unto him that he was already in glory. What de-
light then will it be, not only to hear the voice of one in-
ftrument, played upon by an angel, but alfo the voices of
thouſands of angels together, with the admirable melody of
muſical inſtruments? The finging of one little bird only ra-
viſhed an holy Monk, for the space of three hundred years,
when as he perfuaded himſelf, they being paft, that there
were no more than three hours past. What ſweetneſs will
it be to hear fo many heavenly muſicians, thoſe millions of
angels, to many men, which will be founding forth their
Alleluja's, which holy Tobie mentioned, and thole virgins.
fmging a new fong, which none but they could fing? Surius
writes in the life of St. Nicholas Tolentine, that for fix months
before his death, he heard every night a little before Mat-
tins, moſt melodious mufic of angels, in which he had a
taſte of that fweetness, which God had prepared for him in
his glory; and fuch joy and comfort he received by hearing
it, that he was wholly tranfported, defiring nothing more,
than to be freed from his body to enjoy it. The fame defi-
red St. Suftine, when he ſaid, that all the employments, all
the entertainments of the courtiers in heaven, confifted in
praiſes of the divine Majefty without end, without wearineſs
(a) Roa. 1. 1. c. 10. in ejus vita.
or
318
LIB. VI.
The Difference betwixt
or trouble. "Happy were I, and for ever happy, if after
"death, I might deferve to hear the melody of thoſe fongs,
" which the citizens of that celeftial habitation, and the
fquadrons of thofe bleffed fpirits, fing in praife of the
"eternal King. This is that fweet mufic which St. John
*heard in the Apocalyps, when the inhabitants of Heaven
"fang: Let all the world bless thee, O Lord; To thee
"be given all honour, and dominion for a world of worlds,
** Amen."
The
The ſmell fhall be feafted with the odour, which iffues
from those beautiful bodies, more fweet than mufk or am-
ber, and from the whole heaven, more fragrant than jefa-
mins or rofes. St. Gregory the Great (b) writes, that Chrift
our Redeemer, appearing unto Tarfilla his fifter, caſt forth
fo delicious a ſmell and fragrancy, that it well appeared it
could not proceed, but from the author of all fweetnefs. St.
Gregory of Tours writing of the holy Abbot St. Sylvius, fays,
that when he was dead, there was fo great fadnefs in the
monaſtery for the lofs of him, that our Lord was pleafed to
command, that he should be restored to life again
faint obeyed, though with great resentment of what he left,
and whither he returned. He bewailed his baniſhment with
a freſh and lively memory of that celestial country, where
he had feen hinfelf a little before with fo great advantage.
The Monks preffed him very hard to declare unto them,
fomething of what he had feen. He told them: 1, my dear
brethren, mounted up to the land of the living, where I had
the fun, moon, and ſtars for my foot-ftool, with greater
fplendor and beauty, than if it had been paved with filver
and gold, being placed in the feat deputed for me, I was re-
pleniſhed with an odour of ſo fingular ſweetneſs, that it alone
hath been fufficient to banish all appetites, or defires of the
things of this life? infomuch that I neither defired to eat.
Baronius (c) reports of
nor drink any thing to maintain it.
one, who raiſed from death, amongst other things recount-
ed, That he had feen a moft delightful place, where an in-
finite number of most beautiful perfons did recreate them-
felves, and that there iffued from them a molt fragrant and
miraculous ſweetneſs: and this the angels told him, was the
Paradife of the Son of God. The like is reported alfo of St.
Gregory
(b) Greg. 1. 14. dialog. c. 16. & Hom. 38. in Evan. Turonen.
li. 7. hitto. Fran.
(c) Baron. To. 9. an. 716.
CAP. V.
319
the Temporal and Eternal.
Gregory (d) of a certain foldier. Neither is it much that
glorious bodies ſhould breath out fo fweet a fmell, fince even
in this valley of mifery, the bodies of faints without life or
foul, have fent forth a moft admirable fragrancy. St. Gr-
gory the Great (e) writes that at the inftant, when St. Servi-
us died, all who were prefent, were filled with a moſt in-
comparable ſweetnels. St. Jerome reports the like of St. Hil-
arion, that ten months after his death, his body caft forth a
moſt fragrant perfume. If this be in corruptible fleſh, what
fhall be in the immortal bodies of the faints?
The taſte alfo in that bleffed country, fhall not want the
delight of its proper obje&t. For although the faints fhall
not there feed, which were to neceffitate that happy ſtate,
unto fomething befides itfelf, yet the tongue and palate fhall
be fatiated with moft pleaſant and favoury relifbes; fo as
with great decency and cleanlineſs, they ſhall have the de-
light of meat without the trouble of eating, by reafon of the
great delicacy of this celeftial tafte. The glory of the faints
is often fignified in holy fcripture, under the names of a
ſapper, banquet, manna. St. Aufline ſays (f), it cannot be
explicated, how great fhall be the delight and ſweetneſs of
the taſte, which fhall eternally be found in Heaven. And
St. Laurentius Juftinianus affirms, that an admirable ſweet-
nefs of all that can be delightful to the taſte, fhall fatisfy the
palate with a moſt agreeable fatiety. If Efau fold his birth-
right for a difh of lentil pottage, well may we mortify our
taſte here upon earth, that we may enjoy that perfect and
incomparable one in Heaven.
The touch alfo, fhall there receive a moft delightful en-
tertainment. All they tread upon, fhall feem unto the juſt
to be flowers, and the whole difpofition of their bodies, ſhall
be ordered with a moſt ſweet and exquifite temperature. For
as the greateſt penances of the faints were exerciſed in this
fenfe, by the affli&tions endured in their bodies, ſo it is real-
on that this ſenſe, ſhould then receive a particular reward.
And as the torments of the damned in hell, are moſt expref-
fed in that ſenſe, fo the bodies of the bleffed in Heaven are
in that fenfe, to receive a fpecial joy and refreshment. And
as the heat of that infernal fire, without light is to penetrate,
even to the entrails of thoſe miſeraole perfons, fo the candor
23.
(d) Greg. 1. 4. Dial.
(e) Greg. 4. Dial. c. 14.
and
(f) Aug. lib. de fpiritu & vita. Laur. Juftin. de Dif. Mon, ca.
320
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
:
}
and brightneſs of the celeftial light, is to penetrate the bodies
of the bleffed, and fill them with an incomparable delight
and ſweetneſs. All then, what we are to do, is to live in that
true and perfe& life, all is to be joy in that eternal happi-
nefs. Therefore, as St. Anfelme fays (g), the eyes, nofe,
mouth, hands, even to the bowels and marrow of the bones,
and all and every part of the body in general and particular,
ſhall be fenfible of a moſt admirable pleaſure and content.
-
The humanity of Chrift our Redeemer, is to be the prin-
cipal and chief joy of all the fenfes; and therefore Jobn
Tambefcenfis, and Nicholas of Nife fay (h), that as the in-
tellectual knowledge of the divinity of Chrift, is the joy and
effential reward of the foul, fo the fenfitive knowledge of the
humanity of Chrift, is the chief good and effential joy of
the fenfes, and the utmost end and felicity, whereunto they
can aſpire. This it feems was meaned by our Saviour in
St. John, when ſpeaking unto the Father he faid, This is
life eternal, that is, effential bleffedneſs, (as Nicholas de Nife
interprets it) that they know thee the only true God (in
which is included the effential glory of the foul) and him
whom thou haft fent, Jefus Chrift, in which is noted the
effential bleffednefs of the fenfes: infomuch as only in the
humanity of our Saviour, the appetite of the fenfes fhall be
To perfectly fatisfied, as they shall have no more to defire,
but in it fhall receive all joy, pleaſure, and fulness of de-
light; for the eyes, fhall be the fight of him who is above
all beauty: for the ears, one only word of his fhall found
more ſweetly than all the harmonious mufic of the celeftial
fpirits: for the faiell, the fragrancy that fhall iffue from his
moſt holy body, fhall exceed the perfume of fpices: for the
taſte and touch, to kiss his feet and facred wounds, ſhall be
beyond all fweetnefs.
It is much alio to be noted, that the bieffed fouls, fhall be
crowned with fome particular joys, which the very angels
are not capable of For first, it is try only, who are to
enjoy the crowns of doctors, virgins and martyrs, fince no
angel can have the glory, to have fhed his blood and died
for Chri: neither to have overcome the flesh, and by com-
bats and wrestlings, fubje&ted it unto reafon. Wherefore St.
Bernard faid, The chaſtity of men was more glorious than
.
(g) Anfel. de Simil. c. 59.
that
(h) Joan. de Tamba. Trac. de Deliciis fenfibilibus Paradifi. Et
Nich. de Nife de quat. Noviſſ. 3. Myſt, 4. Confi,
ĈAP. VI,
the Temporal and Eternal.
321
that of angels. Secondly, men fhall have the glories of
their bodies, and joy of their fenfes, which the angels can-
not: For as they want the enemy of the fpirit, which is the
fleſh, ſo they must want the glory of the victory. Neither
fhall they have this great joy of mankind, in being redeem-
ed by Chrift from fin, and as many damnations into hell
as they have committed mortal fins, and to fee themſelves
now freed and fecure from that horrid evil, and fo many
enemies of the foul, which they never had: which muſt
needs produce a moſt unſpeakable joy.
CA P. VI.
The excellency and perfection of the Bodies of the Saints in
the life eternal.
E will not forbear alſo to confider what man ſhall be
when he is eternal, when being raiſed again at the
great day, he thall enter foul and body into Heaven. Let
us run over, if you pleafe, all thofe kinds of goods, which
expects us in that Land of Promife. When God promiſed
Abraham the country of Paleftine, he commanded him to
look upon it, and travel and compafs it from fide to fide.
*Lift up thine eyes, faith the Lord, and from the place,
"where thou ftandeft, look towards the North, and towards
"the South, and towards the East, and towards the Weft:
"All the Land which thou feeſt I will give unto thee, and
thy feed for ever." And immediately after,
" Arife,
"and walk the Land in length and breadth, for I will cer-
tainly give it thee." We may take theſe words, as fpo-
ken unto ourſelves, fince they feem to promiſe us the king-
dom of Heaven; for no man ſhall enter into that, which he
does not defire and no man can defire that as he ought to
do, which he has not walked over in his confideration; for
that which is not known is hardly defired. And therefore
we ought often to contemplate the greatness of this land,
the length of its eternity, and the breadth and largeneſs of
its felicity, which is fo far extended, that it fills not only the
foul, but the body, with happineſs and glory: that glory of
the foul redounding unto the body, and perfecting it with
tc
:
S s
thofe
322
LIB. IV
The Difference betwixt
Į
thoſe four moſt excellent gifts, and replenishing it with all
felicity, which can be imagined or defired. If Mofes, fee-
ing an angel in a corporal figure only upon the
ack part,
and but in paffage, received fo great a glory from the light
and beauty which he beheld, that his heart not being able to
contain it, it ſtruck forth into his face with a divine bright-
nefs. What joy thall the bleſſed fouls receive from the fight
of God himſelf, when they fhall behold him as he is face to
face, not in paffage, or a moment, but for all eternity?
This joy by reafon of their friet union, their fouls fhall
communicate unto their happy bodies, which from thence-
forth fhall be filled with glory, and invefted with a light fe-
ven times brighter than that of the fun, as is noted by Al-
bertus Magnus (i). For although it be faid in the gospel,
that the just hall fhine as the fun, yet Ifaias the Prophet
fays, that the fun in thefe days, fhall ſhine ſeven times more
than it now doth. This light, being the moſt beautiful and
excellent of corporal qualities, fhall cloath the juft as with a
garment, of most exceeding luftre and glory. What empe-
for was ever clad in fuch a purple? what humane majefty
ever caft forth beams of fach fplendor? Herod (k) upon the
day of his greatest magnificence, could only cloath himfelf
in a robe of filver admirably wrought, which did not ſhine
of itſelf, but by reflection of the fun beams, which then in
his rifing, caft his rays upon it: and yet this little
glittering
was fufficient to make the people fa'ute him as a God. What
admiration fhall it then caufe, to behold the glorious body
of a faint, not cloathed in gold or purple, not adorned with
diamonds or rubies, but more refplendent than the fun itfelf?
Put all the brightest diamonds together, all the fairest rubies,
all the moſt beautiful carbuncles: let an imperial robe be
embroidered with them all: all this will be no more than as
coals, in refpe&t of a glorious body, which fhall be all tran-
Iparent, bright and refplendent, far more than if it were
fet with diamonds. O the baleneſs of worldly riches! they
all put together, could not make a garment fo precious, and
beautiful. If here we account it for a bravery, to wear a
diamond ring upon our fingers, and women glory in fome
carbuncle, dangling at their breafts, what fhall it be to have
our hands, feet, and breafts themfelves more glorious and
refplendent than all the jewels of the world? The garments
(i) Albert, Mag. in Comp. Theol. I. 7. c. 38,
(k) Jofeph. 1. 19. c. 8.
1
which
CAP. VI.
323
the Temporal and Eternal.
which we wear here, how rich foever, are rather an affront
and difgrace unto us, than an ornament, fince they argue
an imperfection, and a neceffity of our bodies, which we
are forced to fupply with fomething of another nature. Be-
fides our cloaths were given as a mark of Adam's fall in Pa-
radife, and we wear them as a penance enjoined for his fin.
And what fool fo impudent and fottifh, as to beflow precious.
trimming upon a penitential garment? But fuch are not the
ornaments of the faints in Heaven; their luftre is their own,
not borrowed from their garments, not extrinſical without
them, but within their very entrails, each part of them be-
ing more transparent than chryftal, and brighter than the
fun. It is recounted in the Apocalyps as a great wonder,
that a woman was feen cloathed with the fun, and crowned
with twelve ilars. This indeed was far more glorious than
any ornament upon earth, where we hold it for a great bra-
very, to be adorned with twelve rich d'amonds and a car-
buncle; and what are thofe in comparifon of the fun, and
ſo many ſtars? Yet this is fhort of the ornament of the faints
whofe luttre is proper to themſelves, intrinfically their own,
not taken and borrowed from fomething without them, as
was that of the woinan's. The ftate and majesty, with
which this gift of fplendor fhall adorn the faints, fhall be
incomparably greater than that of the mightiest kings. It
were a great majeſty in a prince, when he iffues forth of his
palace by night, to be attended by a thouſand pages, each
having a lighted torch; but were thofe torches ftars, it were
nothing to the state and glory of a faint in Heaven, who
carries with him a light equal to that of the fun, feven times
doubled; and what greater glory than not to need the fun,
which the whole world needs? Where the juft is, ſhall be no
night; for wherefover he goes, he carries the day along
with him. What greater authority can there be, than to
fhine far brighter than the fun, carrying with him far grea-
ter majeſty, than all the men of the earth could be able to
confer upon him, if they went accompanying him carrying
lighted torches in their hands? St. Paul beholding the gift
of clarity in the humanity of Chrift, remained for fome days
without fenfe or motion. And St. Jobn only beholding it
in the face of our Saviour, fell down as if dead, his mortal
eyes not being able to endure the luftre of fo great a majesty.
St. Peter, becauſe he faw fomething of it in the transfigura-
tion of Christ, was fo tranſported with the glory of the place,
that
324
The Difference betwixt
LIB. VI.
that he had a defire to have continued there for ever. Nei-
ther was this much in Chrift, fince the people of Ifrael were
not able to fuffer the beams which iffued from the face of
Mofes, though then in a frail and mortal body. Cafarius
(1) writes of a great doctor of the university of Paris, who
being ready to give up the ghost, wondered how it could be
poffible, that Almighty God could make his body compofed
of duft to fhine like the fun. But our Lord being pleaſed to
comfort and flrengthen him, in the belief of the article of
the refurrection, caufed fo great a fplendor to iffue forth of
the feet of the fiek perfon, that his eyes not being able to
fuffer fo great a fplendor, he was forced to hide them under
his bed-cloaths. But much more is it, that in bodies al-
ready dead, this glory fhould appear. The body of St.
Margaret, daughter to the king of Hungary, fent forth fuch.
beams of light, that they ſeemed to be like those of Heaven.
The fplendor alfo of other dead bodies of the faints hath
been fuch, that mortal eyes were not able to behold them.
If then this garment of light does beautify thofe dead bodies
without fouls, how ſhall it illuftrate thofe beautiful and perfe&t
bodies in Heaven, who are alive and animated with their glo-
rious fpirits for all eternity? St. John Damafcen ſaid, that the
light of this inferior world, was the honour and ornament of
all things. How fhall then the immortal light of that eternal
glory, deck and adorn the faints? for it fhall not only make
them fhine with that bright candor, we have already ſpoken
of, but with diverfity of colours, shall embelliſh tome parti-
cular parts more than others. In the crowns of virgins, it
fhall be moſt white, in that of martyrs red, in that of doc-
tors, of fome particular brightnefs. Neither fhall thofe
marks of glory, be only in their heads or faces, but in the
reft of their members. And therefore Cardinal Bellarmine
(m) fays, that the bodies of St. John Baptift and St. Paul
fhall fhine with a moft incredible beauty, having their necks,
as it were adorned with collars of gold. What fight more
glorious than to behold fo many faints, like fo many funs to
ſhine, with ſo incomparable luftre and beauty? What light
then will that of Heaven be, proceeding from fo many lights,
or, to ſpeak more properly, from fo many fins? By how
much the number of torches is greater, by fo much is alfo
greater the light they produce altogether. How great then
(1) Cæfar. lib. 12. mir. cap. 54-
(in) Bellar. conc. de Beat. p. 2.
fhall
CAP. VI.
325
the Temporal and Eternal.
fhall the clarity of that holy city be, where many funs do
inhabit? And if by the fight of every one in particular, their
joy fhall be more augmented, by the fight of a number with-
out number, what meaſure can that joy have, which refults.
from fo beautiful a fpectacle?
§. 2.
As all the bodies of faints, are to be wholly filled with
light, fo they are to enjoy the privileges of light; which
amongst all material qualities, is enobled with this preroga-
tive, that it hath no contrary, and is therefore impaffible.
And fo the glorious bodies of the faints, having nothing that
may oppofe them, are alfo freed from fufferance. Befides.
nothing is more ſwift than light; and therefore thoſe bodies
who have the greateſt ſhare of light, are alſo the moſt ſwift
in motion, wherefore there is no element fo nimble and ac-
tive as fire: no nature fo fwift as that of the fun and ſtars;
and light itſelf is fo quick, that in an inftant, it illuminates
the whole fphere of its activity. In like manner, the glori-
ous bodies of the faints, as they are to enjoy more light, fo
they are to move with more speed and agility, than the very
ſtars themſelves. The light is alfo fo fubtle and pure, that
it flops not in its paffage, although it meets with fome bo-
dies folid and maffy. The whole fphere and body of the
air, hinders not the fun from enlightning us below; and
chryſtal, diamonds, glafs, and cther heavy bodies, are pen-
etrated by light. But far greater fhall be the fubtility and
purity of the bleffed fouls, unto whofe paffage nothing how
grofs or opaque foever fhall be an obitacle. For this reafon
the faints in holy fcripture, are often called by the name of
light and particularly it is faid, that the ways of the juft
are like a fhining light at mid-day. For as the light, be-
cauſe impaffible, makes its way through dirty and unclean
places, without defiling its purity, paffes with ſpeed, and
penetrates other bodies that itand in its way: So the faints
endowed with the light, which they receive from this gift of
clarity, cannot fuffer from any thing, having an agility to
move with ſpeed from place to place, and a fubtilty to pen-
etrate wherefoever they pleaſe.
The goods refulting from thefe privileges, and endow-
ments of the glorious bodies, are more in number than all
the
326
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
the evils of this mortal life. The only gift of impaffibility,
frees us from all thoſe miferies which our bodies now fuffer:
the cold of winter, the heat of fummer, infirmities, griefs,
tears, and the neceffity of eating, which one neceffity in-
cludes infinite others. Let us but confider what cares and
troubles men undergo, only to fuftain their lives. The la-
bourer ſpends his days in plowing, fowing, and reaping:
The fhepherd fuffers cold and heat in watching of his flock:
The fervant in obeying another's will and command: The
rich man in cares and fears, in preferving what he poffeffes.
What dangers are paft in all eftates, only to be fure to eat?
from all which, the gift of impaffibility exempts the juſt.
The care of cloathing troubles us allo, little lefs than that of
feeding and that of preferving our health much more. For
as our neceffities are doubly encreafed by ficknels, fo are our
cares; from all which, he who is impaffible, is free; and
not only from the griefs and pains of this life, but if he
ſhould enter into hell, it would not burn one Hair of him.
-
The prerogative alfo of the gift of agility is molt great;
which eafily appears by the troubles and inconveniencies of
a long journey, which (howfoever we are accommodated)
is not performed without much wearinefs, and oftentimes
with danger both of health and life. A King though he
pafs in a coach or litter, after the moft eafy and commodi-
ous way of travelling, muft pafs over rocks, hills and rivers,
and ſpend much time; but with the gilt of agility, a faint
in the twinkling of an eye, will place himself where he
pleaſes, and paſs millions of leagues with as much eaſe, and
in as ſhort a time, as a furlong. We admire the ſtory of
St. Anthony of Padua, who in one day paffed from Italy in-
to Portugal, to free his Father condemned wrongfully to
death; and at that of St. Ignatius Patriarch of the Society of
Jefus, who in a fhort time tranfported himself from Rome to
Colen, and from thence to Rome without being miffed, lefs
than in two hours ſpace. If to the mortal bodies of his fer-
vants, God communicates fuch gifts, what fhall he do to
the glorified bodies of his faints? What an excellency of
nature were it to be able in one day, to vifit all the great
kingdoms of the earth, and fee what paffed amongst them,
in an hour to go to Rome the chief city of the world: from
thence to paſs to Conflantinople the head of the eaſtern em-
pire: In another hour to the Great Gair, and confider there
the immenfe multitude of the inhabitants: In another hour
go
2
CAP. VI.
3277
the Temporal and Eternal.
go to Goa, the court of the Eafl-Indies, and behold the
riches thereof: In another to Pequin, the feat of the kings
of China, and contemplate the vaft extent of that prodigious
city in another to Meaco, the court of Japonia: in another
to Manila, the head city of the Philippin iſlands: in another
to Ternate, in the Maluca's: in another to Lima in Peru:
in another to Mexico in New-Spain: in another to Lisbon
and Madrid: in another to London and Paris, the principal
feats of christendom, marking at cafe what paffed in the
courts of thoſe great monarchs? If this were a great privil-
ege, what ſhall that be of thofe glorious bodies, who in a
ſhort ſpace can traverse all the heavens, vifit the earth, re-
turn unto the fun and firmament, and there obferve what is
above the ſtars in the empyrial heaven. St. Gregory (n)
writes in his dialogues, that a foldier affulting a holy per-
fonage, and having his naked fword lifted up, and ready to
give the blow, the man cried out to his patron St. John for
help, who inſtantly with-held the foldier's hand, that he
could not move it. How foon did St. John hear him in
heaven, who invoked him upon earth? with what ſpeed did
he defcend to affist him, with-holding and drying up the
arm of the wicked foldier? the bodies of the faints are to
move hereafter with no leſs ſpeed than their ſpirits do now;
the weigh: of their bodies fhall no ways hinder them; they
fhall therefore in the fame manner walk, or ftay upon water,
air, heavens, as upon earth. It was miraculous in St. Qui-
rinus Martyr, St. Maurus, and St. Francis of Paula, that
they walked upon waters, paffed rapid rivers and feas with-
out veffels; but the glorious bodies, fhall not only be able
to traverſe the feas, mount into the air, but enter into flames
fecure and without hurt. It is faid of St. Francis of Affifi-
um, that in the fervour of his prayers and contemplations,
he was feen lifted up into the air; and the great fervant of
God, Father Diego Martines, of the Society of Jefus, was
lifted up in prayer above the higheft trees and towers, and
hanging in the air perfifted in his devotion. If God vouch-
fafe fo great favours to his fervants in this valley of tears,
what privileges will he deny to the citizens of heaven?
To this fo notable gift of agility fhall be annexed that of
penetration by which their glorious bodies ſhall have their
way free and preivous through all places; no impediment
fhall ſtop their motion, and for them shall be no prifon or
encloſure.
(n) Greg. li. 3. Dial. 36.
328
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
encloſure. They fhall with greater eafe pafs through the
middle of a rock, than an arrow through the air. It fhall
be the fame thing for them to mount unto the moon, where
they ſhall meet no folid body to oppole them, as to pierce
unto the center through rocks, mettals, and the grofs body
of the earth. We wonder to hear that the Zabories fee
thoſe things which are hid under the earth. Let us admire
that which is certain, that the faints cannot only fee, but
enter into the profundity of the earth, and tell what miner-
als, and other ſecrets are contained in its entrails. Metaph-
raftes writes, that a certain Getb, a foldier of the garrifon
of Edeffa, fell paffionately in love with a maid of the fame
city, and finding no other way to enjoy her, demanded het
in marriage; but the mother and kindred gave no ear to
the treaty, truſting little to a barbarian and a stranger, who
carrying her into a country far diftant (as his was) might
there uſe her at his pleaſure. The foldier notwithſtanding
perfiſting ſtill in his fuit, with many promiſes of good enter-
tainment, gained at laſt the conſent of the maid and her
friends, only the mother would not be fatisfied, before they
had entered all together into the temple of the holy Martyrs
St. Samona, Guria, and Abiba, and that there the foldier
had renewed his promifes by folemn oath, and called the
holy Martyrs as witneffes; which done, the maid was de-
livered unto him: whom he not long after carried into his
own country, where he was formerly married, and had his
wife yet living. There better to conceal his wickednefs, he
fell into a greater, and like a wild beast without pity, enclo-
fed the poor woman alive in a ſepulchre, and there left her.
She thus betrayed, had recourfe unto the faints, whom the
with tears invoked, as witneffes of the foldier's treachery and
breach of faith. At the inftant the holy Martyrs appeared
in a glorious equipage, and cafting her into a gentle fleep,
conveyed her (the fepulchre ftill remaining locked) without
hurt into her own country, where they left her. The bar-
barian ignorant of what had happened, and perfuading
himſelf ſhe was long fince dead, returned a fecond time to
Edeffa, where convinced of the crime he fatisfied it with his
life. If the faints then have power to make the perfons of
the others paſs through diftin&t bodies, much more are they
able to make their own, to penetrate them without impedi-
ment.
Finally,
CAP. VII.
329
the Temporal and Eternal.
Finally, the fervants of Chrift fhall be there repleniſh-
ed with all goods both of foul and body, that there fhall be
nothing more for them to defire. And every one, even du-
ring this life, hoping for thefe eternal goods, may ſay with
St. Außine, "What wouldeſt thou my body? What is it
"thou defireft my foul? There ye fhall find all which you
"defire. If you are pleafed with beauty: there the juſt
"ſhine as the fun; and if with any pure delight: there not
one, but a whole fea of pleafure, which God keeps in
"ftore for the bleſſed, ſhall quench your thirst." Let men
then raiſe their defires unto that place, where only they can
be accompliſhed. Let them not gape after things of the
earth, which cannot fatisfy them, but let them look after
thofe in heaven, which are only great, only eternal, and
can only fill the capacity of man's heart.
CA P. VII.
How we are to ſeek after Heaven, and to prefer it before
all the goods of the Earth.
LE
ET a chriſtian compare the miſeries of this life, with
the felicities of the other: the weakneſs of our nature
in this mortal eſtate, with the vigour and privileges of that
immortal which expects us: and let him excite and ſtir up
himſelf to gain a glory eternal, by troubles fhort and tempo-
rary. Cyrus (0), when he intended to invade the Medes,
commanded his Perfians upon a certain day to meet him,
with each one a fharp hatchet. They obeying, he willed
them to cut down a great wood; which performed with
much toil and diligence, he invited them for the next day,
unto a fumptuous banquet: and in the height of their mirth
demanded of them, whether they liked better the firſt day's
labour, or that day's feaft. The answer was ready; all
cried out, That day's entertainment. With this he engaged
them to make war upon the Medes, affuring them, that af-
ter a ſhort trouble in fubduing an effeminate nation, they
fhould enjoy incomparable pleafure, and be mafters of inef-
timable riches. This ferved him to make the Perfians follow
T
(0) Juftinus lib. 1.
him,
330
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
him, and conquer the kingdom of the Medes. If this mo-
tive were fufficient to make a barbarous people prefer a
doubtful retard before a certain and hazardous labour, why
fhould not a certain reward, and infinitely greater than the
labour, ſuffice us chriftians? Let us compare that celeftial
fupper of the other life, with the troubles of this, The great-
neſs of the kingdom of heaven with the littleness of our fer-
vices, The joys above with the goods below, and our la
bours will ſeem feafts, our fervices repofe, and the felicity
of earth, mifery and bafenels. What is the honour of this
life, which is in itſelf falfe, given by lying men, fhort and
limited, in refpe & of that honour the just receive in heaven,
which is true, given by God, eternal, extended through the
heavens, and manifefted to all that are in them, men and
angels? What are the riches of the earth, which often fall,
are ever full of dangers and cares, and never free their own-
ers from neceffity, in compariſon of thoſe which have no
end, and give all fecurity and abundance? What are their
fhort pleaſures, which prejudice the health, conſume the
fubftance, and make infamous thoſe who ſeek them, in re-
fpect of thofe immenfe joys of glory, which with delight
join honour and profit? What is this life of mifery, to that
full of bleffings and happineſs: and what thofe evil qualities
of our bodies now, to thoſe precious gifts of glory after our
refurrection? We are now all rottennefs, unweildinefs, cor-
ruption, uncleanefs, infirmities, loathfomeness and worms.
Then fhall be light, incorruption, fplendour, purity, beau-
ty, and immortality. Let us compare thefe together, what
difference there is betwixt a body fickly, weak, pale, and
loatlifome, or ſome eight days after death, full of worms,
corruption and stench abominable, with the fame body be-
ing now in glory, exceeding the fun far in brightnefs, the
heavens in beauty, more odoriferous than the purest rofes
or lillies.
Neither do the evils, or goods temporal, bear any compa-
rifon with the eternal; fince, as the apoftle fays, That
which is momentary and light, does caufe an eternal weight
of glory. In the beginning of the civil wars with the Senate
of Rome (p) carried on againſt Caius and Fulvius Gratebus,
the Conful Opimius by pubhc edi&t promiſed, that whofoevet
fhould bring him the head of Caius Graccbus, fhould re-
ceive for reward its weight in gold. All efteemed this a re-
compence
(p) Val. 1. 9. c. 4•
і
CAP. VII.
331
the Temporal and Eternal.
compence highly to be valued, that one ſhould receive equal
weight of that precious metal, to the weight of dead flesh.
But God's promifes far exceed this. For a labour or trou-
ble as light as a feather, he gives eternal weight of glory.
The apostle fays not, that God Almighty doth give only a
great weight for light merits, but alſo adds over and above,
that it ſhall be eternal. It were a great happineſs, if accord-
ing to our penances or voluntary labours, we fhould receive
only equal proportion of blifs, yet fo as it were eternal; be-
caufe how little foever it were, it were to be purchaſed at a
very cheap rate, though it were in fubftance but fo much
for ſo much, fo that the difference were only fuch in the du-
ration thereof: as if for the toil of one day's labour, were
given a whole year of reſt. But Almighty God giving much
for a little, for that which is light, maffy and heavy, for a
thing momentary an eternal reward, what greater encreaſe
or advantage can we poffibly receive? Setimulejus will be a
great confufion unto us, who hearing the forefaid proclama.
tion of the Roman Conful, fluck not at any toil or danger,
until he had cut off the head of Gracchus, greedy of the
equal weight thereof in gold. Let us have the like courage
the foldier had, to take away the temporal life of a man,
to the end we may not bereave ourſelves of an eternal life.
And fince the purchaſe of heaven is fo cheap, let us procure
to augment the gain, and let's not have lefs defire of goods
eternal, than Setimuleyus had for temporals: who defirous
of a great reward filled with melted lead, all the hollow
places of the head, which he had cut off. Let us fill our
momentary and light works with great affection and love.
Let us increaſe our defires, and in any work how little fo-
ever, accompany the fame with a great will, with a vehe-
ment defire to hoard up eternal treaſures for temporal pains.
What an advantageous exchange will it be, to buy heaven,
for a draught of water, for that which is but vile, and lafts
but a moment, that which is of ineftimable price, and is to
last for all eternity? What fort of bargain would it be, if
one could buy a kingdom for a ſtraw? yet fo it is. For that
which is no more worth than a straw, we may purchaſe the
kingdom of heaven. Certainly all the felicity, riches, and
earthly delights, are no more than a ftraw, compared with
the glory of heaven. How fond and foolish would he be
who having a basket full of chips, would not give one of
them for an hundred weight of gold? This is the fortifhne fs
of
332
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
of men, that for earthly goods they will not receive thoſe of
heaven. Who is there, that having offered him a precious
ftone for fome ſmall fand, ſhould not have fo much wit, as
to give a thing fo bafe and abject, for a thing fo noble and
precious? Who being offered a rich treaſure for an handful
of cinders, would not admit of fo gainful an exchange?
What hunger-ſtarved man, being invited to a full table of
dainty dishes, upon condition he should not eat an apple-
paring, would reject the invitation? Heaven is offered us
for things little, and of fmall eftimation. Why do not w
accept the offer? Chrift our Saviour called the kingdom of
heaven, a precious Margarite and a hidden Treaſure: for
which we ought to forfake all the goods of the earth: by
reaſon they are all but duft and mifery, in refpe& of a trea-
fure of pearls and diamonds. St. Fofaphat did very much
in leaving an earthly kingdom, for a greater affurance of
that of heaven. He did very much according to our de-
ceitful apprehenfion, and falſe eſtimation of things. But if
it be well confidered, he did very little, much lefs than if he
had given one baſket full of earth for another of gold, a fack
full of inall coal for a great treaſure, and a nut-fhell for a
great banquet. Whatever is in the earth, may well be given
for the leaft crumb of heaven; becauſe all the greatneffes of
this world are but crumbs, nut-fhells and trash, compared
with the leaſt particle of heavenly blifs. All the felicity up-
on earth, hath no fubftance nor weight, if compared with.
the weight of eternal glory, which is prepared for us. This
David did, and convinced by the greatnefs of heavenly glo-
ry, faid unto our Lord: I did incline my beart, to do tby juf
tifications. The heart of man is like a juft ballance, that
inclines that way, where is the greatest weight. And as in
the heart of David the temporal weighed little, and the eter
nal much, fo'inclined by the eternal weight of glory which
attends us, and moved by the hope of fo great a reward, the
fulfilling of the law of God prevailed more with him, than
his own appetite and inclination.
§. 2.
If we fhall confider the labours, for which eternal glory
is promiſed us as a hire and reward, the apoftle fpake with
great reaſon, that all, which we can fuffer in the time of this
life, is no ways worthy of that glory to come, which is to be
manifefted
CAP. VII.
the Temporal and Eternal.
333
manifeſted in us. To St. Aufline all the torments of hell,
iccmed not much for the gaining of celeftial-glory, but for
fome ſhort time. And if we confider the greatneſs of that
joy, all the penances of St. Simon Stylites, the faſts of St.
Romualdus, the poverty and nakedneſs of St. Francis, and
the ſcorns and affronts put upon St. Ignatius, are no more
than the taking up of a ftraw, for the gaining of an earthly
empire. All ftories are full, for how ſmall matters upon
earth, men have expofed themfelves to great and almoſt
certain dangers. Becaufe David caufed it to be publiſhed
in his army, that he that ſhould first fet upon the Jebuseans,
who were the hardiest of all his enemies, fhould be made
General, Jacob doubted not to expofe his life to manifeft
danger, breaking through the pikes and launces, to obtain
that honour at the price of his own blood. Becauſe king
Saul publiſhed in the army, that he would give his daughter
in matrimony to him, that ſhould overcome the giant Golias,
there being none found that durit attempt it, David flighted
all danger in hopes of obtaining fuch a recompence. What
have not men attempted to gain a terreftrial reward? No-
thing hath feemed much unto them. For the gaining then
of heaven, all things ought to feem little unto a chriftian.
Senica wondered at what foldiers did and fuffered for ſo ſhort
and tranfitory kingdoms as are thofe of the earth, and that
not for themſelves, but for another. Much more may we
wonder, that the fufferings and labours of this life, by which
we are to gain the kingdom of heaven, not for a ſtranger,
but for ourlelves, feem fo great and grievous unto us. What
did not fofhaam perform, for the advancing of the kingdom
of David, though he was eſteemed a poor wretch and a daſ-
tard (q) feeing that the kingdom of David lay at stake, he
took fuch courage, that he fet upon 800 men, and flew them
in his fury and at another occafion he killed 300. For the
fame kingdom of David, Eleazar fon of doobites fought
with fuch conftancy and valour, that he flew innumerable
Philiftines, continuing the battle until he was fo weary, that
he was not able to move his arm longer, and it remained
to ſtiff with wearinels, as if it had been of tone. If for a
kingdom of another man's dominions, theſe men were ſo
valiant, why do not we take courage, and procure with great
valour, to make conqueft of the kingdom of heaven, though
we
(q) 2 Reg. 23. & 1. Paralip. 11. Vid. Sanctium & Tirinum,
2 Reg. 23.
:
LIB. IV.
334
The Difference betwixt
we loſe all our ſtrength, and even our lives in the conqueſt,
fince in refpe&t of it all toil and labour is nothing? For the
advancing then of the kingdom of David, his worthies per-
formed fuch adions, as if they were not authoriſed by holy
fcripture, might feem incredible. But what fpeak I of ad-
vancing his kingdom? when only to fatisfy a guft of his,
and perhaps an impertinent one, which was to drink of the
water in the cifterns of Bethlehem, the young men threw
themſelves into the thickest of the enemies fquadrons, and
with their naked fwords cutting a paffage through the midſt
of the army, fetched the defired waters. If men undergo
fuch hazards for the kingdom, nay for the pleaſure of ano-
ther, and that momentary, what ought not we to do for
thoſe eternal joys, which are to be our own, and for the
kingdom of heaven, wherein we expect fuch immenfe ho-
nours, riches and pleaſures? Why do we not at all take
heart and courage? It is the kingdom of heaven we hope
for, joys, riches and honours eternal are thoſe, which are
promiled us. All is but little, what can be fuffered in time
to obtain the fame. Semma for the defence of a poor field,
fowed with lentils, durft fight alone against an army of the
Philiftines. For the defence then of grace, which is the feed
of God, and to affure our glory, which is the fruit of the
paffion of Chrift, it is not much, if without fhedding of blood
we fight against our unruly appetites, and conquer our cor-
rupt nature in this life, that we may render it more perfect
in the other. To this purpoſe the confideration of glory is
moft powerful, having ftill before our eyes heaven, which is
promifed us. And let not the eternal reward propoſed by
Chriſt be less efficacious, than the temporal propofed by man,
This was fignified by our Lord unto the prophet Ezechiel,
in thoſe four living creatures fo much different in nature.
but all one in their employment, and pueſto, to wit, an
eagle, a lyon, an ox, and a man, which he beheld in the
middle of the air, flying with each one four wings, as fwift
as a flash of lightning. What thing could fo force the heavy
nature of an ox, as to equal the flight of an eagle? or what
could affociate the fierce nature of a lyon, with the gentle-
nefs of a man? The fame prophet declares it, faying, that
they carried heaven on their heads, having the firmament.
above them; Becauſe if heaven be in our thoughts, it will
encourage us to all things: It will make material men equal
unto angels, and fubje&t them unto reafon, who in their
cuſtoms
1
CAP. VII.
335
the Temporal and Eternal,
cuſtoms are brutiſh as wild heafts; ſo as he, who is flow and
heavy as an ox, fhall fly with four wings: and by conque-
ring his own nature, become in his flight equal to the birds
of the air: and he, which feeds groveling upon the earth,
ſhall elevate himſelf, and quit his fhort and tranfitory plea-
fures, for thoſe which are eternal,
§. 3.
Neither is this much. For fo great is the good which we
expect, that for it to be deprived of all other goods whatfo-
ever, ought to be eſteemed a happiness, and to fuffer all tor
ments and amictions as a pleaſure. Let us hear what St.
Chryfofteme fays (1): "How many labours foever thou
*
fhalt pafs, how many torments foever thou ſhalt endure,
"all are nothing in refpe&t of thoſe goods to come." Let
us hear alfo what St. Vincent Martyr faid unto Dacianus the
prefident, and with what joy and patience in his torments,
he confirmed what he had fpoken. When they hoisted him
up on high upon the rack, and the tyrant in a scoff demand-
ed of him where he then was, the faint ſmiling, and behold-
ing heaven, whither he was going, anfwered, "I am a loft,
" and from thence can defpile thee, although infolent, and
"puffed up with the power thou haft upon earth. Being
after menaced with more cruel torments, he ſaid,
" Mc-
"thinks thou doft not threaten, but court me, Dacianus,
"with what I defire, with all the powers and faculties of
my foul." And when they tore his flesh with hooks and
pincers, and burned him with lighted torches, he cried out
with great joy, "In vain thou wearieft thyfelf, Dacianus,
"thou can't not imagine torments fo horrid which I could
"not fuffer. Prifon, pincers, burning-plates of iron, and
"death itſelf are unto chriftians, fports and recreations,
"and not torments." He who had the joys of Heaven be-
fore his eyes, fcorned and laughed at the bittereſt torments
upon earth. Let us confider them alfo, and we fhall not
fhun the ſufferance of any thing, whereby we may gain
heaven. What pity is it, that a chriſtian for fome ſhort and
fordid pleaſure, fhould lofe joys fo great and eternal: be-
caufe he will not bear fome flight injury here, fhould be de-
prived of celestial honour there: for not paying what he
(r) Chryfoft. Tom. 5. Hom. 19.
Owes,
338
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
owes, and not restoring what he hath unjuly taken, fhould
forfeit the divine riches of heaven: and for one pleaſant
morfel, which the devil offers him, fhould deprive himſelf of
the great fupper, whereunto God invites him? who would
chooſe rather to feed upon bones and fcraps, which fell from
the table, than to be a gueft at the banquet, and feed upon
the choicest and most favoury dishes? That which the world
offers in her beft pleafures, is bat fbells, offals and parings;
but that whereunto God invites us, is a full table, wherein
may be fatisfied, the most eager hunger of humane appetite.
With reafon it is called in the holy feripture the great fupper,
and in ſome places the nuptial-fupper, by reafon of that fa-
tiety, which nothing upon earth can give uSa It is called
alſo a ſupper, and not a dinner becauſe after dinner we uſe
to rife, and go about other occafions and employments, but
after fupper they are no more labours; all is reft and re-
poſe. The principal diſh, which is ſerved in at this great
fupper, is the clear vifion of God, and all his divine perfec-
tions; after that a thouſand joys of the foul, in all its pow-
ers and faculties: then a thouſand pleaſures of the fenfes,
with all the endowments of a glorified body. Theſe latter
are as it were, the deſert of this divine banquet. And if the
defert be fuch, what fhall be the fubftance of the feaft?
What compariſon then betwixt thofe great and eternal goods.
of heaven, and thofe which the world gives us? Certainly
they are not worthy to be called fo much, as the fhells of
happineſs.
It is much to be reflected on, that thefe who enjoyed not
that great fupper, which is a figure of glory, were not de-
prived of it by doing any thing, which was a fin in itſelf.
For one excufed himſelf, becauſe he had bought a farm:
another becauſe he was to prove his oxen: a third becaufe
he was married: none of which were fins; but for the pre-
ferring thoſe things before the kingdom of heaven, which
being an incredible madneſs and blindnefs, made them not
worthy to be admitted. And truly all thofe, who are wholly
taken up and employed in the things of the earth, do no
other than prefer the fcraps and parings of a poor and ruftic
dinner, before the royal feaft of a powerful king. Moreover
although God had not invited us moft miferable and vile
worms, unto a fupper of fo infinite fweetnefs, but had only
promiſed us the crumbs which fell from his table, yet ought
we to have preferred them before the contents and commo-
dities
CAP. VII.
337
the Temporal and Eternal.
dities of this world. Let us fear leaft even in lawful plea-
fures there may be danger. For as the evils of fin are the
caufe of damnation, fo the goods of the world may be the
occafion of fin. Let us look only towards heaven: let us
open our eyes and confider, that thofe who were called by
God to ſome ſpecial vocation, and did not embrace it, are
introduced by holy fcripture as damned, and forfaken by
God, though their fin is not named, as it appears in theſe
three who were invited; But much more to our terror in
that young man in the goſpel, who having demanded of
Chrift our Redeemer, What he fhould do to gain eternal
life, and being anfwered, That he fhould keep the com-
mandments of the law, which he replied, he had done from
his youth, Yet becauſe the Lord called him by a ſpecial vo-
cation, to a greater perfection, which was to leave all and
follow him, he went his way forrowful, becauſe he had much
riches; whereupon our Saviour pronounced that memorable
and terrible ſentence, That it was eafier for a camel to enter
the eve of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the king-
dom of Heaven; fignifying thereby, that although he had
kept the commandments, yet he was excluded Heaven.
For thofe, whom our Saviour favours with particular infpira-
tions and callings, do not affure their falvation by a defire
to keep the commandments, but by endeavouring to obferve
the evangelical-counfels, quitting not only fins, and the oc-
cafions of finning, but the impediments of virtue and per-
fection, by which they might not only more affure Heaven,
but alſo obtain more glory; and if they do it not, may juſt-
ly fear, left they may fo much difoblige God Almighty, by
defpifing his vocation, that he will not vouchsafe to grant
them the efficacious helps of keeping his commandments.
Little is all which can be done for the gaining of Heaven,
little what is fuffered, little what is forfaken, little all the
care to obtain it, little what caution not to lofe it, little what
impediments are to be avoided, little what aufterities of life
we undergo to affure it. And if we judge not fo in this
valley of tears, let the faints judge in Heaven, who are of
a different opinion from thofe upon earth. St. Tereſa of
Jefus (s) appearing upon an occafion, to that bleffed woman
Ifabella of St. Dominick, this moft obfervant religious wo-
man begged pardon of the faint, for a difguft that the per-
(s) D. Mig. 1. 3. de Vit. Ifabel. c. 9.
U u
fuaded
338
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IV.
fuaded herſelf ſhe had given her, when being 'Priorefs of
Pastrana, he put up a very narrow grate, where the Nuns
were to hear Maís. To fome it feemed over-ftreight, as
allo to St. Terefa, and ſhe would have taken it away, but did
not do it, becaufe the Priorefs Ifabella replied unto her, fay-
ing, It was not convenient, that being fo nigh to fecular
people, they might be feen by them. But the faint being
now dead and glorious, Iſabella of St. Dominick was much
afflicted to confider that by her replyings, fhe had diſpleaſed
her holy mother. The faint anfwered her, faying, Some
things here do appear unto me far different. And doubtles in
Heaven, things will appear far otherways, where all care
and follicitude in not offending God, will feem little, and
what ever negligence and hinderance in his fervice, will ap-
pear grievous.
CA P. VIII.
Of Evils eternal: and especially of the great Poverty, Dij-
bonour, and Ignominy of the Damned.
WE
E have not only reafon to defpife the goods of the
world, from the confideration of Heaven, but the
evils alfo from that of Hell, in comparifon of which, all
temporal evils are to be efteemed as happineſs and blefings,
and all the happineſs and contents of earth, to be abhorred
as evils, at leaſt if they any ways difpofe to thofe eternal tor-
ments, and that perpetual privation of joys without end.
And truly fuch are the two extremes which attend us after
life, that either of them were fufficient to make us deſpiſe
all goods and evils temporal whatſoever. But joining the
privation of the joys of Heaven, with the condemnation un-
to the torments of Hell, 'tis admirable how any can delight
in the things of this life, and not tremble at what may fuc-
ceed. By reafon of this danger we ought to abhor, and fpit
at the pleaſures and goods of this life, and to admit and em-
Brace, if occafion be, the greatest evils of it, and to contemn
both the one and the other, neither loving the goods, nor
fearing the evils. Yet certainly the goods of the world are
ſo much more to be defpifed than the evils, as they ufually
arc
CAP. VIII. the Temporal and Eternal.
339
are the greater occafions of fin, and fo confequently of eter-
nal damnation. The holy fcriptures and writings of faints,
are full of menaces against the rich, the profperous, and the
lovers of the world, who are thofe, which for the moſt part
people Hell. The prophet Baruch (t) ſays,
"Where are
"the princes of the nations, which commanded over the
"beaſts of the earth, and fported with the birds of the air,
"which ſtore up filver and gold, in which men put their
"trust and there is no end of their feeking? who ftamp
and work filver, who are follicitous, and their works are
"not found? They are exterminated, they have ſunk
❝ down into hell, and others have rifen in their places."
St. James (u) fays, "Weep you, who are rich, and lament
"the miferies which are to fall upon you
"" St. Paul not
only threatens thoſe who are rich, but thoſe who defire to
be ſo, ſaying, •
(x) Thoſe who defire to be rich, fall into
the fnare and temptation of the Devil, and into many
"unprofitable and hurtful defires, which drown them in
"death and perdition." With this counterpoife then and
hazard, who would defire the wealth of the world, fince
only the defire of it is fo poiſonous? Let thofe who dote up-
on the world hear St. Bernard (y), who fays, "Tell me
now, Where are thofe lovers of the world, who a little
"while ago were here with us? there is nothing remaining
"of them but duſt and worms. Mark diligently what they
64
66
once were, and what they now are. They were men,
"as thou now art, they did eat, drink laugh, and pas
away their times in mirth and jollity, and in a moment
"of time funk down into hell. Here are their bodies eaten
"by worms, and their fouls condemned to eternal flames,
"until united again, they both fhall fink togethet into ever-
<<
lafting fire, that fo thoſe who were companions in fin,
may be alſo in torments, and that one pain involve them
"who were comforts in the love of the fame offence. What
“did their vain glory profit them, their fhort mirth, their
worldly power, their flefhly pleaſure, their falfe riches,
"their numerous families? where is now their laughter,
their jefts, their boafting, their arrogance? how great
Chall be their forrow, when fuch mitery fhall fucceed fe
many pleaſures: when from the height of humane glory,
they hall fall into thoſe grievous torments and eternal
❝ ruin,
64
(1) Baruc. 3. Į (x) 1 Tim. 6.
(a) Jac. 5. (y) Bernard. in Medit.
340
The Difference betwixt
LIB. VI.
ruin, where according to what the wife-man faid, the
mighty fhall he mightily puniſhed."
If then those, who moft enjoy the world, run the greatest
hazard of being damned, what can more induce us to the
contempt of it, than the confideration of fo lamentable an
end? And what can more fet forth the malice of temporal
goods, than to be the occafion of eternal evils? If a curious
built houſe be fubject to fome notable inconveniency, no
man will dwell in it; if a couraigous horſe have fome vici-
ous quality, no body will buy him; and if a chryſlal cup
have a crack, it ſhall not be placed upon a royal cupboard,
yet the pleaſures and goods of the world, though ſubject to
all thofe faults, how are they coveted, loved and fought af-
ter, and in them our perdition? Certainly, if we ſhould
confider ſeriouſly the eternal evils, which correfpond to the
fhort pleaſures of this life, we ſhould have all human felicity
in horror, and trembling to ſee ourſelves in fortunes favour,
Thould Ay from the world as from death. The reverend and
zealous Father Frier Jordan, being defirous to convert a
certain Cavalier to God, and from the love of the world,
for his last remedy had recourfe unto this confideration.
Seeing him a beautiful young man, active, and well difpo-
fed of body, he ſaid unto him: At leaſt Sir, fince God hath
bestowed fo comely a face and perfonage upon you, think
what pity it were they should be the food of eternal fire,
and burn without end. The gentleman reflected upon his
advice; and this confideration wrought fo much with him,
that abhorring the world, and quitting all his poſſeſſions and
hopes, he became poor in Chrift, and entered into religion:
§. 2.
+
Let us now come to the confideration of eternal evils,
that from thence we may defpife all which is temporal, be
it good or bad. The evils of Hell are truly evils, and fo
purely fuch, that they have no mixture of good. In that
place of unhappineſs, all is eternal forrow and complaint,
and there is no room for comfort. Ælian (2) relates a hiſ
tory, which being taken as a parable, may ferve to illuftrate
what we are about to ſpeak of. He fays in the utmoſt bor-
ders of the Meropes, there is a certain place called Anaftos,
which is as much to fay, from whence there is no return.
There
(z) Ælian. lib. 3. varia. Hift. c. 18.
CAP. VII.
341
the Temporal and Eternal.
There was to be feen a great precipice, and a deep opening
of the earth, from whence iffued two rivers, the one of joy
and the other of ſadneſs: upon the brinks of which grew
divers trees of fo different fruits, that thoſe who eat of the
one, forgot all that might caufe grief, but thoſe who eat of
the other, were fo poffeffed with an inconfolable ſadneſs,
that all was weeping and lamentations, until they at laſt
died with fighs and fhedding of tears. What do thofe rivers
fignify, but the one of them, that whereof David ſpeaks,
which with his current rejoiced the city of God: the other,
that flood of evil which enters the priſon of Hell, and fills it
with groans, tears and defpite, without the leaft hope of
comfort? for there fhall the door be eternally fhut, to all
good or expectation of eafe; infomuch as one drop of water
was denied the rich glutton, from fo merciful and pitiful a
man as Abraham. There fhall not be the leaſt good that
may give eafe, nor fhall there want a concourfe of all evils
which may add affliction. There is no good to be found
there, where all goods are wanting: neither can there be
want of any evil, where all evils whatſoever are to be found,
and by the want of all good, and the collection of all evils,
every evil is augmented. In the creation of the world, God
gave a praife to every nature, faying, It was good without
farther exaggeration; but when all were created and joined
together, he ſaid, They were very good, becauſe the con-
junction of many goods, advances the good of each parti-
cular and in the fame manner the conjunction of many
evils, make all of them worfe. What shall heaven then
be, where there is a concourfe of all goods, and no evils?
And what Hell, where there are all evils, and no good?
Certainly the one must be exceeding good, and the other
exceeding evil. In fignification of which the Lord fhewed
unto the prophet Jeremias, two little baskets of figs: in the
one of which were evceffively good ones, and in the other
exceffively bad, both in extremity. He does not content
himfelf in faying they were bad, or very bad: but fays,
they were over-bad: becauſe they prefented the miferable
ftate of the damned, where is to be the fink of all evil, with-
out mixture of any good at all. And for this reaſon it is
not a fufficient expreffion to fay, they are evils: but they
are to be termed evils exceffively great.
No man will admire this, who knows the grievoufneſs of
a mortal fin; for commiting of which, as he is a man, he
deferves
342
The Difference betwixt
"
LIE. IV.
deferves hell, and as he is a chriftian, (according to St.
Auftine) a new hell: that is, an infidel merits one hell, and
a chriſtian two, who knowing Chrift incarnate and crucified
for him, durſt yet fin and offend him. Sin is an exceffive
evil, becauſe it is an infinite evil; and therefore it is not too
much, if it be chattifed with infinite evils. It is an evil,
which is greater than the whole collection of all other evils;
and for this reafon 'tis not too much rigor that the finner
fhould be chattifed with the collection of all evils together.
Thoſe who wonder at the terriblenefs of eternal pains, know
not the terriblenefs of fin. Whereupon St. Aufline fays (a);
"Therefore the eternal pains feem hard, and unjuſt unto
"human apprehenfion, becauſe in the weakneſs of our na-
"tural underſtanding, the fenfe of that eternal wisdom is
wanting, by which might be perceived the great malice
"of the firſt prevarication." If then for that first fin com-
mitted, when Chrift had not yet died for man, eternal dame
nation was not thought too much, what fhall it be, when
we know that our Redeemer was fo gracious, as to give his
life, becauſe we ſhould not fin? From the neceffity of fo
coftly and precious a medicine, may be collected the great-
neſs of the infirmity. I fay the greatneſs and danger of a
diſeaſe, is known by the extraordinary remedies which are
applied unto it, and by the things which are fought out for
the cure, and without which the malady would be without
remedy. We may therefore gather the infinite malice of a
mortal fin, becauſe there was no other means fufficient, but
one ſo extraordinary, as was God to become man, and give
his own life for man, dying a death ſo ſhameful, and pain-
ful as he did offering a price fo great, as was the exceffive
worth, and infinite price of his merits and paffion. Sin is
an injury against God; and as the injury increaſes, accord-
ing to the greatneſs and worth of the perfon offended, fo
God being infinite, the injury becomes of infinite malice:
and as God is a good, which includes all goods, fo a mortal
fin, which is an injury done unto him, is a mifchief which
exceeds all evils, and ought to be punished with all pains
and torments.
:
§. 3.
Let us now confider the feveral forts of pains in Hell, and
the greatness of them. In the Roman laws, according to
(a) Aug. lib. 21. c. 12.
Tully
>
CAP. VIII.
343
the Temporal and Eternal.
3;
Tully and Albertus Magnus (b), we find mentioned eight
feveral kinds of puniſhments: which are, The puniſhment
of lofs, when one is muleted in his goods, The puniſhment
of infamy, banifhment, impriſonment, flavery, whipping,
death, and the puniſhment of talion. To theſe may be
reduced all the reft; and we ſhall find the divine juſtice to
exerciſe them all upon thoſe who have defpifed his mercy,
and injured his infinite bounty and goodness. In the first
place, there is the pain of lofs, and that fo rigorous, that in
the depriving the damned foul of one only thing, they take
from him all good things; For they deprive him of God,
in whom they are all compriſed. This is the greateſt pain,
that can be imagined. O how miferable and poor muit the
damned foul be, who hath loft God for all eternity? He,
who is condemned by humane laws, to the lofs of his goods,
may, if he live, gain others, at leaſt in another kingdom, if
he fly thither; but he who is deprived of God, where fhall
he find another God? and who can fly from Hell? God is
the greateſt good, and it is therefore the greatest evil to be
deprived of him; Becauſe (as St. John Damafcen ſays) evil
is the privation of good, and that is to be eſteemed the
greateſt evil, which is a privation of the greatest good, which
is God, and muſt certainly therefore cauſe more grief and
reſentment in the damned, than all the torments and pun-
iſhments of Hell befides. And in regard there is in Hell
an eternal privation of God, who is the chief good, the pain
of lofs, whereby one is deprived for ever of the greatest of
all goods, this privation will cauſe the greateſt pain and tor-
ment. If the burning of a hand, caufe an infufferable pain,
by reafon that the exceffive heat deprives the body of its
natural temper, and good conftitution, which is but a poor
and fhort good, how fhall he be tormented who is deprived
and eternally ſeparated, from fo great a good as is God? If
a bone difplaced or cut of joint, cauleth intolerable grief,
becauſe it is deprived of its due ftate and place, what ſhall it
cauſe in a rational creature, to lie eternally feparated from
God, who is the chief end, for which he was created? Sc.
Chryfoftome (c) gives us fome underſtanding of this grief,
when he fays, He, who burns in Hell, lofes all the
"kingdom of Heaven, which is certainly a greater puniſh.
ment than that torment of flames. I know many who
(b) Albert. Mag. 1. 7. Comp. Theolog. c. 22.
(c) Chryf. 24. in Math. Tom. 2. fol. 82. p. 2.
are
j
344
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IV.
"are afraid of Hell; but I dare confidently fay, that the
"ambition of glory, is far more bitter than all thoſe pains,
" which are to be fuffered in Hell. And no wonder, that
"this cannot be expreffed in words, fince we know not well
"the happiness of thofe divine rewards, by the want of
"which, we ought alfo to measure the infelicity of their
lofs; but we fhall then without doubt learn, when we are
"taught by fad experience." Then our eyes fhall be open-
ed; then the veil fhall be taken away; then fhall the wicked
perceive to their greater grief and confufion, the difference
betwixt that eternal and chief good, and the frail and tran
tory pleaſures of this life. If St. Chryfoftome fays, this of the
lofs of the reward of eternal happiness, that it is a greater
evil than the torment of hell fire: what fhall the loss of God
be, not only as our good, but aifo for as much that in him-
felf, he is the chief good, of which the damned are to be
deprived for all eternity.
Moreover this condemnation of a finner, unto the lofs of
God, and all which is good, fhall extend fo far, that he ſhall
be deprived even of the hope of what is good, and ſhall be
left for ever in that profound poverty and neceffity, without
expectation of remedy or relief. What greater want can
any one have, than to want all things, and even hope of
obtaining any thing? We are amazed at the poverty of
holy Job, who from a prince and a rich man, came to lie
upon a dunghill, having nothing left but a piece of a broken
pot, to fcrape away the putrifaction from his fores. But
even this fhall fail the damned, who would take it for a great
Regalo, to have a dunghill for their bed, instead of the
burning-coals of that eternal fire. Neither hall they be
maſters ſo much as of that broken pot, wherein to contain a
little water, if it might be given them. For, as Ifaias fays,
There fhall not remain unto them, fo much as the fhread of
a broken pot, to hold a little water from the pit, nor fhall
there be any found to give it them. That rich glutton in
the gospel, accuſtomed to drink in cups of chrystal, to eat
in filver, and to be cloathed in filks, and curious linens, can
tell us how far this infernal poverty extends, when he de-
manded not wines of Candy, but a little cold water, and that
not in cups of gold or chryftal, but upon the fingers-end of
a Leper. This rich and nice glutton came to fuch an ex-
tremity, that he would eſteem it a great felicity, that they
would give him but one drop of water, although it were
from
CAP. VIII.
345
the Temporal and Eternal.
from the filthy and loathfome finger of a Leper; and yet
this alſo was wanting unto him. Let the rich of the world,
fee to what poverty they are like to come, if they trust in
their riches; let them know, that they fhall be condemned
to the loss of all which is good. Let them refie&t upon him,
who was accuſtomed to be cloathed in precious garments, to
tread upon carpets, to fleep upon down, to dwell in ſpaci-
ous palaces, now naked thrown upon burning coals, and
packed up in fome narrow corner of that infernal dungeon.
Let us therefore fear the riches of this world, and the pover-
ty of the other.
§. 4.
The poverty or want of all good of the damned, is ac-
companied with a moft opprobrious infamy and diſhonour,
when by public fentence, they fhall be deprived for their en-
ormous offences of eternal glory, and reprehended in the
preſence of faints and angels, by the Lord of heaven and
earth. This infamy fhall be fo great, that St. Chryfoftome
(d) fpeaks of it in these words: "A moſt intolerable thing
is Hell, and moſt horrible are the torments; yet if one
"fhould place a thouſand Hells before me, nothing could
"be fo horrible unto me, as to be excluded from the ho-
"nour of glory, to be hated of Chrift, and to hear from
him theſe words, I know you not." This infamy we may
in fome fort declare, under the example of a mighty king,
who having no heir to fucceed him in his kingdom, took
up a beautiful Boy at the Church-door, and nouriſhed him
as his fon, and in his teftament commanded, that if at ripe
years, his conditions were virtuous and ſuitable to his cal-
ling, he fhould be received as lawful king, and feated in
his royal throne; but if he proved vicious, and unfit for
government, they should punish him with infamy, and fend
him to the Gallies. The kingdom obeyed this command,
provided him excellent mafters and tutors; but he became
fo untoward and ill inclined, that he would learn nothing,
flung away his books, fpent his time amongst other boys, in
making houfes of dirt, and other childish fooleries: for
which his governors corrected and chaftifed him, and advi-
fed him, of what was fitting and most imported him; but
all did no good: only when they reprehended him, he could
(d) Chryf. in Math. 24.
X X
weep:
346
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
1
weep, not becaufe he repented, but becaufe they hindered
his fport and the next day did the fame. The more he
grew in age, the worfe he became; and although they in-
formed him of the king's teftament, and what behoved him,
all was to no purpofe; until at laſt after all poffible care and
diligence his tutors, and the whole kingdom weary of his ill
conditions, in a public affembly, declared him unworthy to
reign, defpoiled him of his royal ornaments, aud condemned.
him with infamy unto the Gallies. What greater affront
and ignominy can there be than this, to lofe a kingdom,
and to be made a Galley-flave? for I do not know which
of theſe things, that young man would be more fenfible of.
More ignominious and a more lamentable tragedy, is that
of a chriftian condemned to Hell, who was taken by God
from the gates of death, adopted his Son, with condition
that, if he kept his commandments, he fhould reign in Hea-
ven, and if not, he ſhould be condemned to Hell. Yet he
forgetting thefe obligations, without refpect of his tutors and
maſters, who were the holy angels, especially his angel-
guardian, who failed not to inftill into him holy infpirations,
and other learned and fpiritual men, who exhorted him
both by their doctrine and example, what was fitting for a
child of God; But he neither moved by their advices, nor
the chaſtiſements of Heaven, by which God overthrew his
vain intentions, and thwarted his unlawful pleafures, only
lamented his temporal loffes, and not his offences: and at
the time of his death, was fentenced to be deprived of the
kingdom of Heaven, and precipitated into Hell. What in-
famy can be greater than this of the damned foul? for if it
be a great infamy to fuffer death by humane-juftice, for fome
crimes committed, how great an infamy will it be to be con-
demned by Divine juftice, for a traytor and perfidious rebel
to God? Befides this bitternefs of pains the damned perfons
fhall alſo be eternally branded, with the infamy of their of
fences; fo as they fhall be fcorned and fcoffed at by the de-
vils themſelves, and not only devils, but all rational crea-
tures; men and angels ſhall deteft them, as infamous and
wicked traitors to their King, God and Redeemer (e). And
as fugitive flaves are marked and cauterized with burning-
irons, fo this infamy by fome fpecial mark of uglinefs and
deformity, fhall be ftamped upon their faces and bodies; fo
as Albertus Magnus fays, fo ignominious fhall be the body
(e) Ifai. 13. Facies combuftæ vultus eorum,
of
CAP. IX.
347
the Temporal and Eternal.
of a finner, that when his foul returns to enter, it ſhall be
amazed to behold it fo horrible, and fhall wish it were rather
in the fame fate, as when it was half eaten up by worms.
K
CA P. IX.
The punishment of the Damned, from the borribleness of the
place, into which they are banished from Heaven, and made
Priſoners in Hell.
ANOTHER kind of punishment of great difcomfort and
affiction, is that of exile, which the damned ſhall fuf-
fer in the highest degree. For they fhall be banished into
the profound bowels of the earth, a place moſt remote front
Heaven, and the moſt calamitous of all others, where they
hall neither fee the fun by day, nor the ftars by night, where
all fall be horror and darkness; and therefore it was faid
of that condemned perfon, Caft him forth into utter dark-
nefs, forth of the city of God, forth of the Heavens, forth
of this world, where he may never more appear into that
land, which is called in the book of Job, A dark land, co-
vered with the obfcurity of death, a land of mifery and
darkneſs, where the fhadow of death, and no order, but
everlasting horror inhabits: a land, according to Ifaias, of
fulphur and burning pitch, a land of peftilence and corrup-
tion, and a land of uncleannefs and mifery. St. Thomas (F)
tays, that in the laft purification of the world, there fhall be
a feparation made in the elements, in fuch a manner, as
the pure and refined parts fhall remain above, for the glory
of the bleffed, and the impure drofs and dregs, ſhall be
thrown into Hell for the punishment of the damned. Where-
fore as every creature is matter of joy to the bleſſed, ſo eve-
ry creature ſhall add unto the torments of the damned.
This appertains unto Divine-juſtice, that as feparating them-
felves by fin from him, who is one, they placed their ends
in material things, which are many: fo from many things,
they thould receive their affliction. Into this fewer, and
fink of all the elements, into this land of puniſhment and
torments, ſhall be banished the enemies of God.
(f) St. Thom. in 4. Sent.
The
348
L. I B. IV.
The Difference betwirt
pr
The punishment of exile, was most grievous unto the
Roman citizens, when for fome enormous fault, they were
caſt forth of the city, and baniſhed into fome defolate ifland
or barbarous nation. Ovid, when he was fent into Pontus,
did not ceafe from lamenting his misfortune, fill fighing
after his own country. And Cicero, when he returned from
baniſhment, as if he had entered into a new world, whereof
they had made him Lord, cried out with admiration and
joy, "O what beauty is this of Italy! what civility of peo-
ple! what fields what vines and crops of corn! what
66 decency of the city! what humanity of the citizens !
what dignity of the common wealth!" If men were
thus tranſported, by the difference betwixt fome countries
and others, and betwixt fome men and others, what differ-
ence fhall the damned find betwixt Heaven and Hell, and
betwixt the converſation of angels and of devils? What a
grief fhall it be to fee themſelves deprived of the palaces of
Heaven, the ſociety of faints, and that happy country of the
living, where all is peace, quietnefs, charity and joy, where
all fhines, all pleaſes, and all parts refound with Alleluja's?
David being abfent from his country among barbarous na-
tions, although his life were preferved by his banishment,
yet could not chooſe but refent it as his death. And the
people of Juda, whilft they reinained in Babylon, thought
it impoffible for them to fing (being an action of mirth)
whilst they were in a flrange country. Certainly if the
damned had no other punishment, than to fee themſelves
baniſhed amongft devils, into a place far diftant from Hea-
ven, fad as night, without the fight or comfort of fun or
moon for all eternity, it were a torment infufferable.
It was a great tyranny in Alexander (g), after he had cut
off the nofe, ears and lips of Califthenes, to caſt ſo worthy a
perfon into a dungeon, only accompanied with a dog. A
fpectacle indeed lamentable, to fee fo difcreet a man ufed
like a brute, and not have the company of one, who might
comfort him. But the damned would take it as a favour to
have the company of dogs or lyons, rather than that of their
own parents. The tyrants of Japonia invented a ſtrange
torment for thoſe who confeffed Chrift. They hung them
with their head downwards, half their bodies into a hole
digged in the earth, which they filled with fnakes, lizards,
and other poiſonous vermin. But even thoſe were better
companions,
(g) Seneca. Juftin. Valerius. Suidas.
CAP. IX.
349
the Temporal and Eternal.
W
companions, than thofe infernal dragons of the pit of Hell,
whereunto not half, but the whole body of the miferable fin-
ner fhail be plunged. The Romans (h) when they punished
any as a paracide, to exprefs the heinoufnefs of the fact, fhut
him up in a fack as a ferpent, an ape, and a cock. What
a horror fhall it he in Hell, where a damned perfon fhall be
ſhut up with ſo many malicious fpirits? Here if a houſe be
haunted with a goblin, none dare dwell in it; There they
fhall be forced to dwell with millions of devils. Here none
will live near a peft-houſe, or ill neighbours. Think
Think upon
what neighbourhood is in Hell. Cato counfelled those who
were to take a farm, to have a fpecial care what neighbours
it had. And Themiftocles (1) being to fell a certain manor,
caufad the cryer to proclaim, That it had good neighbours.
How comes one then to purchaſe Hell at fo dear a rate, as
the price of his foul, having fuch curfed neighbours, where
all fcoff and deride him, all will abhor him, all will be irk-
foine and troubleſome, their diſquietnefs and ranting will be
infufferable, and the very fight and uglinefs of them will
fright and affonith him? How grievous is the banishment
into that place, where none wiſhes well unto another: where
the fathers hate their fons, and the fons abhor their fathers?
This may appear by this example, which is rehearsed in the
lives of the ancient Fathers of the defert. A fon of an ufu-
rer being converted to penance by a fermon, wherein that
vice was reprehended, begged of his Father and of another
brother of his, that forfaking that infamous vice, they would
reſtore all that they had unlawfully gained. They not
hearkning to him, but, as they uſe to ſay, being deaf of
that ear he retired into the wilderneſs, and became a Monk
in company of other Servants of Almighty God. His father
and brother died without repentance of their fins. The holy
Monk was much afflicted, for the miſerable condition he
feared they were in, and begged carneftly of Almighty
God, he would pleaſe to reveal unto him their ſtate and
condition. Being one day perfifting in his prayer, an angel
appeared unto him, and taking him by the hand, carried
him to the top of a high mountain, from whence he diſcov-
ered a deep valley full of fire, when having firſt heard a
fearful cry, he preſently faw his father, who boiled in the
fire like peaſe, in a boiling pot, and his brother ſwimming,
l.
(h) Efid. 1. 5. Etymo. c. 47.
() Plutar. in Them.
as
350
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
as it were in the flames now above, and now below. The
fon ſpake unto his father, faying: Curfed be thou (father)
for all eternity, becaufe by an unjuft inheritance, thou haft
been the cauſe of my damnation. And the father anfwered
him: Curfed be thou, fon; for to the end I might leave
thee a rich inheritance, I ftuck not to gain it by unjust
means. They difappeared, and the Monk much aftonished,
returned home to his monaftery, where he lived in very ri-
gorous penance till death. In other baniſhments, when
parents or friends, meet in a country far from home, they
endeavour to comfort one another, and even enemies are
then reconciled. But in this banishment of Hell, friends
abhor friends, and parents hate, and are hated by their chil-
dren.
§. 2.
To this may be added, that in this banishment of the
damned, the exiles are not allowed the liberty of other ban-
iſhed perfons, who within the ifle or region of relegation,
may go or move whither they pleafe: but not fo the dam-
ned in Hell; becauſe the place of their exile is alfo a prifon,
that ſo this grievous fort of punishment, may be alſo added
to their other torments. Hell is the prison of God, a moſt
rigorous prifon, horrid and ftinking, wherein fo many mil
lions of men fhall for ever lie fettered in chains: for chains,
or fomething anfwerable unto them, fhall not there be want-
ing. Whereupon St. Aufline fays (k), and is followed by
the ſchool men, that the malignant fpirits fhall be faſtened
to fire, or certain fiery bodies, from which the pain which
they receive fhall be incredible, being thereby deprived of
their natural liberty, as it were fettered with manicles and
bolts, fo as they are not able to remove from that place of
miſhap and mifery. It were a great torment to have burn-
ing-irons caft upon our hands and feet; but this and much
more ſhall be in Hell, where thole fiery bodies, which are
to ſerve inſtead of ſhackles and fetters, are (as grave doctors
affirm) to be of terrible forms proportionable unto their of
fences, and fhall with their very fight affright them.
Befides, the bodies of the damned, after the final judg-
ment paft, fhall be fo ftreightned and crowded together in
that
(k) Aug. 1. 1. de Civit. cap. 10. U. Leff. de Perfec. Divin.
1. 13. c. 30.
CAP. IX.
351
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
that infernal dungeon, that the holy fcripture compares them
to grapes in the wine prefs, which prefs one another until
they burst. Moft inhumane was that torment inflicted upon
three Fathers, of the Society of Jefus, by their enemies at
Mafrick. They put certain rings of iron, ftuck full of ſharp
points of needles, about their arms and feet, in ſuch manner
as they could not move, without pricking and wounding
themfelves. Then they compaffed them about with fire, to
the end that flanding ftill, they might be burned alive and
if they stirred, the fharp points pierced their fleſh with more
intolerable pains than the fire. What ſhall then be that tor-
ment of the damned, where they fhall eternally burn with-
out dying, and without poffibility of removing from the
place defigned them? where whatſoever they touch fhall be
fire and fulphur; into which their bodies fhall at the latter
day be plunged, as their fouls at prefent fwim in the middle
of that lake or pond of fire, (as the fcripture calls it) like
fishes in the fea, which enters into their very ſubſtance, more
than the water into the mouth, noſe and ears of him who is
drowned.
Neither ſhall unfavoury fmells, fo proper unto prifons, be
wanting in that infernal dungeon. For firft, that fire of
fulphur being pent in without vent or refpiration, ſhall ſend
forth a moſt poiſonous fcent; and if a match of brimstone
be fo offenfive here, what fhall fuch a maſs of that ſtuff be
in Hell? Secondly, the bodies of the damned fhall caft forth
a moſt horrible stench of themſelves, and that more or lefs,
according to the quality of their fins. It happened in Lions,
that a Sexton entering into a certain vault, where the body
of a man not long before dead, lay yet uncovered, there
iffued forth fo peftilential a fmell, that the dead man killed
the living. If one man's body then cauſe ſuch a flink, what
ſhall proceed from a million of bodies, which, though alive.
for their further evil, yet are dead in the fecond death? be-
fides (as hath been faid) all the uncleanness and filth of the
world, when it is putrified, muft fall into that eternal fink,
which ſhall infinitely encreaſe this noifome quality. Paulus
fovius writes, that the enemy of mankind Actiolinus the ty-
rant, had many prifons full of torments, mifery and ill
fmells: infomuch as men took it for a happiness rather to
die, than to be impriſoned: becauſe being loaded with irons,
afflicted with hunger, and poifoned with the peftilential
fmell of thoſe who died in prifon, and were not fuffered to
be
352
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
է
be removed, they came to end in a flow, but most cruel
death. The Meffenians alfo had a moft horrible prifon under
earth, full of stench and horror, into which offenders were
let down with a cord, never after to fee the light. But what
are theſe prifons to that of Hell, in refpe&t of which they
may be eſteemed as Paradife full of jeffamy and lillies?
Victor Africanus (1) relating the torments which the Arian
Vandals inflicted upon the holy Martyrs, accounts the stench
and noiſomeneſs of the prifon, to be the most hideous and
únfufferable of all the rest. There were, faith he, in one
priſon 4996 Martyrs, which was fo ftraight and narrow,
that they flung the holy confeffors into it one upon another,
who ftood like (warms of locufts, or, to ſpeak more piouſly,
like precious grains of wheat. In this want of room, they
had not place to comply with the neceffities of nature, but
were forced to eafe themſelves where they stood, which
cauſed fo horrid a favour, as exceeded all the rest of their
afflictions. One time (faith the author) giving a good fum
of money to the Moors, we had leave, whilft the Vandals
flept, to ſee them, and at our entrance funk up to the knees
in that filth and loathſomeneſs. It ſeems that the ftink of
Hell, could not be more lively expreffed, than in the un-
cleanneſs and ſtench of this prifon; but without doubt, all
this was but a rough-draught, and a dead image of that
which fhall be there, in refpect whereof this here, was per-
fume and amber.
If one were caft into fome deep dungeon, without cloaths,
expoſed to the inclemency of the cold and moiſture of the
place, where he fhould not fee the light of Heaven, fhould
have nothing to feed on, but once a day fome little piece of
hard barley-bread, and that he were to continue there fix
years, without ſpeaking or feeing of any body, and not to
fleep on other bed but the cold ground, what a mifery were
this? one week of that habitation would appear longer than
a hundred years. Yet compare this with what fhall be in
that baniſhment and prifon of Hell, and you fhall find the
miferable life of that man to be a happineſs. There in all
his troubles, he ſhould not meet with any to ſcoff and jeſt at
his misfortunes, none to torment and whip him; but in hell
he ſhall find both. The devils fhall not ceafe to deride,
whip, and cruelly torment him. There ſhould be no horrid
fights, no fearful noifes of howlings, groanings and lamen-
(1) Victor. Afric. 1. 2. de Perfec. Vandal.
tations,
CAP. X
353
the Temporal and Eternal.
tations. In hell the eyes and ears of the damned, fhall ne-
ver be free from fuch affrights. There should be no flames
of fire to feorch him. In hell they fhall burn into his very
bowels. There he might move and walk. In hell not flir
a foot. There he may breathe the air without ftink. In
hell he shall fuck in nothing but flames, flink and fulphur.
There he might hope for coming forth. In hell there is no
remedy, no redemption. There that little piece of hard
bread, would every day ſeem a dainty. But in hell in mil-
lions of years, his eyes fhall not behold a crumb of bread,
nor a drop of water, but he fhall eternally rage with a dog-
like hunger, and a burning thirst. This is to be the cala-
mity of that land of darkness: barren of all things, but of
the brambles and thorns, of grief and torments.
I
CA P. X.
Of the Slavery, Chaftifements, and Pains eternai.
ANOTHER grievous puniſhment amongst the Romans,
was that of fervitude or flavery, eſpecially of thoſe, who
for fome great and heinous offences were condemned as
flaves, not to the fervice of any particular perfon, but to un-
dergo fuch and fuch puniſhments: and were therefore called
Slaves of Punishment. This miferable flavery is that which
the damned are to ſuffer in hell, who are condemned to be
eternally naves of pains and torments, and of their minifters.
and hangmen, the devils. Thofe flaves the Romans efteem-
ed worse than the dead (m). For, befides the lofs of liberty,
(which is next to that of life) their condition was moſt infa-
mous, and their life moſt miſerable. Yet in refpe&t of the
flavery of the damned, who are fubjected to their pains,
with all their fenfes and powers, both of foul and body, it
might be accounted free and glorious. With their touch,
they are to ſerve that burning and never confuming fire:
with their taſte, hunger and thirſt, with their ſmell and ftink:
with their fight, thofe horrid and monftrous fhapes, which
the devils fhall affume: with their hearing fcorns and af-
(m) Cuiac. Obferv. 1. 3. c. 10.
Y y
fronts:
354
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
fronts with their imagination horror: with rheir will loath-
ſomeneſs and deteftation: with their memory deſpair: with
their underſtanding confufion, with fuch a multitude of
other puniſhments, as they fhall want eyes to weep for them.
Elianus (n) writes of Trizus the tyrant, that he command-
ed his fubje&is not to ſpeak together: and when they uſed
figns inſtead of words, he alfo forbad thofe. Whereupon
the afflicted people met in the market-place, at leaſt to weep
for their misfortunes. But neither was that permitted.—
Greater ſhall be the rigour in hell, where they fhall neither
be fuffered to ſpeak a word of comfort, nor move hand or
foot, nor eaſe their hearts with weeping; neither, if all the
pores of their bodies, or hairs of their heads were turned in-
to eyes, would they fuffice to do it. feremias the Prophet
lamented with floods of tears, that Jerufalem, which was the
queen of nations, fhould be made a flave and tributary.
What tears are fufficient to lament the damnation of a chrif-
tian, who from an heir and prince of the kingdom of Hea-
ven, hath made himſelf a flave to the devil, and thofe eter-
nal puniſhments of hell, unto which he is to pay as many
tributes, as he hath fenfes, powers, and members? Let us
mark how great is the tyranny of the devil, even over thoſe
who are not his flaves. What rigor and puniſhments hath
he exerciſed upon thofe who are the fervants of God? what
will he do then upon his own flaves and captives? We will
only (paffing over others) inftance in one related by holy
fcripture. Let us behold in what grievous manner (having
demanded licenſe from God) the devil afflicted holy Job,
making him from head to foot but one fore, fo loathfome
and infected, that lying upon a dunghill, he fcraped away
the worms and corruption of his wounds with a potfherd:
fo lean, that only fo much fleſh remained about the lips of
his mouth, as night enable him to ſpeak and anſwer. The
night, which uſes to be a refreſhment and eafe unto the af-
Actions of others, increaſed his pains, with vifions and phan-
tafms. In conclufion, his wife could not endure the noi
fomnefs of his putrified body: and his three friends, who
came to vifit and comfort him, were fo amazed at his afflic-
tion, that in feven days, they could not fpeak unto him.
From whence we may draw two most important arguments.
The first, That if God permitted the devil fo to handle the
fimplicity, piety, obedience, purity and fanctity of 75, only
(n) Alianus lib. 14. C. 22.
to
CAP. X.
355
the Temporal and Eternal.
to prove him, to convince the devil, and leave us an exam-
ple of patience, How will he fuffer the devil to deal with the
doubleness, craft, boldnefs, impudence and uncleannefs of
others, who ſhall be condemned into hell-fire? The fecond,
If the devils tormenting him, even until he became a leper,
and the moſt loath fome fpectacle, that the world ever looked
upon, the fcripture only fays, That God touched him, at-
tributing to God what the devil did, as we attribute unto the
Judge, the torments executed by the hang-men: when God
ihall then difcharge his whole wrath upon a flave in hell,
what whips, what torments fhall fall upon him.
Let us now come unto the punishment of whipping, on
der which is underſtood all chaftifement of pain executed
upon evil doers. This was fignified unto the Prophet Fores
my, when the Lord fhewed him a rod, (for with rods they
anciently whipped offenders) and immediately after a pot all
fiery, by which was fignified hell: giving us to understand,
that the whipping of Divine-juſtice, ſhall be executed in the
eternal fire of hell. But not rods or fcourges, but ftrong
hammers are referved for finners; And therefore the wife-
man faid, Smiting-bammers are prepared for the bodies of
fools; for fo the fcripture by Antonamafia called the damned.
becauſe they were fuch fools, as they know not how to pur
chafe Heaven at fo cheap a rate, as God propoſes it, and ſo
fell into the eternal torments of hell for a momentary plea-
fure. St. Lidwina (o) heard in hell, amongst groans and
complaints, the heavy blows of hammers, with which the
damned were most cruelly tormented: fignifying by thoſe
ſtrokes the violence with which the Divine-justice falls upon
finners. For as the flaves of the earth, are whipped and
punished by their mafters, fo the flaves of hell are tormented
by the devils, who have power and dominion over them.
And even as flaves are whipped and chaſtiſed by their maf
ters, fo the torments, treating the damned as their flaves,
lay upon them a thouſand afflictions, griefs and miferies.
But who ſhall be able to exprefs the number and greataefs
of their torments, fince all their power and fenfes, foul and
body, are to fuffer in a moft violent manner? And every
member of their body, ſhall fuffer greater pain and torment
than if it were torn from the body. If one cannot tell how
to ſuffer a tooth ach, head-ach, pain in the ear, or the pain
of the cholic, what will it be where there fhall not be any
joint,
(0) Surius 14. Apri. in Vit. S. Lidw. 3. p. c. 2.
!
356
LIB. VI.
The Difference betwixt
joint, or the leaft part in the body, which fhall not caufe
him a most intenfe pain: not only the head or teeth, but
alfo the breafts, the fide, fhoulders, the back, the heart, the
thighs, the knees, the feet, the nerves, the veins, and all
the entrails, even to the very bones and marrow?
§. 2.
Befides this, every fenfe from his particular object, fhall
receive a particular punishment. The eyes fhall not be only
grieved with a fcorching hear, which fhall burn their very
pupils, but ſhall be tormented with monflrous and horrible
figures. Many have loft their wits through fear of fuch ap-
paritions, and fome their lives. St. Bernard explicating the
90th Pfalm, reports, that a certain religious perfon, being
ready to die, beheld two devils in that horrid and ugly fhape
that he cried out, as if he had been diſtracted, Curfed be the
hour that I entered into religion; and then holding his
peace, not long after with a quiet and appeafed voice and
countenance, he faid; Nay rather, bleffed be the time that
I became of this Order; and ever bleffed be the Mother of
Chrift, whom I have always loved from my heart; And
then turning to thofe who were in prayer, he faid unto
them, Marvel not at the turbation of my fpirit, for two de-
vils appeared unto me in that monftrous and horrid form,
that if there were a fire of fulpher, and melted mettle,
which were to laft unto the day of judgment, I would foon-
er país through the midst of it, than turn again to behold
them. If then two devils caufed fuch amazement, what
fhall the fight of legions do, each execeeding other in defor-
mity? If the devil be fo ugly and terrible in this life, what
fhall he be in his proper place of damnation, and especially
fo many together? Many are afrighted very much, paffing
only through a church yard only for fear of feeing a phan-
tafm? in what a fright will be a miferable damned foul,
which fhall fee fo many, and of fo horrid fhapes? St. Gre-
gory reflecting on that, which is fpoken in the book of Job,
That in hell, fhall inhabit everlaſting horror, fays in this
manner; How can there be fear, where there is fo much
grief? We grieve for à prefent evil, and fear for that which
is to come and he who is arrived at the utmoſt of mifery,
hath nothing more to fear; and not to fear is a kind of
good:
:
I
CAP. X,
357
the Temporal and Eternal.
•.
good and no good can happen in hell. He anfwers, That
as death perpetually killing the damned, leaves them alive,
that they may die living, fo pain torments them, and in
uch manner affrights them, that they are ftill in fear of
greater fucceeding pains. Their fight alſo fhall be torment-
ed, with beholding the punishment of their friends and kin-
dred. Egefippus writes, that Alexander the fon of Hircanus
refolving to puniſh certain perfons with exemplary rigor,
caufed &co to be crucified; and whilft they were yet alive,
cauſed their wives and children to be murthered before their
eyes, that fo they might die not one, but many deaths.
This rigor fhall not be wanting in hell, where fathers hall
fee their fons, and brothers their brothers tormented. The
torment of the eyes fhall be alfo very great, in regard that
thoſe that have given others fcandal, and made others fall
into fin, fhall fee themfelves, and thofe others in that abyfs
of torments. To the fight of theſe dreadful and grievous
appar't ons, ſhall be added that nocturnal horror, and fear-
ful darkness of the place. Nicholas de Lira (p) fays, that
therefore the darknefs of Egypt was faid to be horrible, be-
cauſe there the Egyptians beheld fearful figures and phan-
tams, which terrified them. In the like manner, in that
infernal darkneſs, the eyes fhall be tormented with the mon-
ſtrous and enormous figure of the wicked fpirits; which ſhall
appear much more dreadful, by reaſon of the obſcurity and
fadneſs of the eternal night.
The hearing (hall not only be afflicted by an intolerable
pain, cauſed by that ever-burning and penetrating fire, but
also with the fearful and amazing noiſes of thunders, roar-
ings, howlings, clamours, groans, curfes and blafphemies.
Sylla being dictator, caufed fix thousand perfons to be en-
cloſed in the Circus, and then appointing the fenate to meet
in a temple close by, where he intended to ſpeak unto them
about his own affairs, to trike the greater terror into them,
and make them know he was their mafter, he gave order,
that fo foon as he began his oration, the foldiers fhould kill
this multitude of people, which was effected. Upon which
were heard fuch lamentations, out-cries, groans, claſhing of
armour, and blows of thoſe mercileſs homicides, that the
fenators could not hear a word, but ſtood amazed with ter-
ror of fo horrid a fact. Such fhall be the harmony of hell,
when the ears fhall be deafened, with the cries and com-
(p) In Exod. 10.
plaints
358
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
>
plaints of the damned. What confufion and horror fhall it
breed to hear all lament, all complain, all curſe and blaf-
pheme, through the bitterness of the torments, which they
fuffer? St. Lidwin (q) being in an extafy, faw a place fo
dreadful made of black ſtone, and of fuch a depth, that it
would fright one to look into it. The faint heard there
within moft fearful groans, cries and howlings, noife and
horrible knocking, as it were of hammers, where with thoſe
within were tormented. She was fo aftoniſhed to hear this,
that if all the noiſe and lamentations of the world were join-
ed together, it would be of no trouble in refpe&t of it. The
angel told her, That was the habitation of the damned.
And demanding of her, whither fhe had any defire to fee
it: fhe faid, No, fhe would not fee it, becauſe only hearing
what there was done, cauſed her an unfufferable grief.
The ſmell alſo, ſhall be tormented with a moft peftilen-
tial stench. Horrible was that torment ufed by Mezentius,
to tie a living body to a dead, and there to leave them, un-
til the infection and putrified exhalations of the dead, had
killed the living. What can be more abominable, than for
a living man to have his mouth laid cloſe to that of a dead
one, full of grubs and worms: where the living must re-
ceive all thoſe peftilential vapours, breathed forth from a
corrupted carcafs, and fuffer fuch loathfomnefs, and abomi-
nable ftench? But what is this in refpe&t of hell: when
each body of the damned is more loathfome and unfavoury
than a million of dead dogs, and all theſe preffed and crow-
ded together in fo ftreight a compafs? Ifaias, in refpe&t of
their stench, calls them dead bodies, when he fays; The
Stench of their carcaffes shall afcend. And St. Bonaventure
goes ſo far as to ſay, that if one only body of the damned
were brought into this world, it were fufficient to infect the
whole earth. Neither fhall the devils fend forth a better
fmell. For although they are fpirits, yet thofe fiery bodies,
unto which they are fastened and confined, fhall be of a
moſt peftilential-favour. And in this manner a devil, who
had appeared unto him, being put to flight by St. Martin,
left fuch an horrible ſtench behind him, that the faint deem
ed himſelf to be already in hell, and faid unto himself: If
one only devil having been here, hath caused this, what
will all the devils together, and damned men do? In the
book of the doctrine of the Fathers it is written, that a pious
damfel
L
(9) Sur. in ejus vita 14 Apr.
CAP. X.
359
the Temporal and Eternal.
damfel being carried by an angel to fee hell, fhe faw her
own mother there, put into a cauldron of boiling pitch up
to the neck, and great numbers of vermin fwarming in it,
of a most intolerable stench.
What shall I then lay of the tongue, which is the inftru-
nent of fo many ways of finning, flattery, lying, murmur-
ing, calumniating, gluttony and drunkennefs? who can
exprefs that bitternefs which the miferable ſhall ſuffer, greater
than that of worm-wood or aloes? infomuch as the fcrip-
ture fays, The gall of dragons ſhall be their wine, and they
fhall taste the poifon of afps for all eternity. Unto which
fhall be joined an intolerable thirst, and dog-like hunger;
conformable unto which, David faid, They fhall fuffer bun-
ger as dogs. Quintilian (r) fays, That famine is the moft
preffing of all neceffities, and most deformed of all evils;
that plagues and wars are happineffes in refpect of it. If
then a famine of eight days, be the worst of temporal evils,
what ſhall that famine be which is eternal? Let our epicures
and belly-gods, hear what the Son of God prophefies; Woe
unto you who are full, for you fhall be an hungred; and
with fuch an hunger, as fhail be eternal. If the other evils
of this world, as Quintilian affirms, may be eſteemed not
much in compariſon of hunger, even in this temporal life,
what will they be in refpect of the hunger of the life to
come? Hunger in this life, does bring men to fuch extremi-
ties, that not only they come to defire to eat dogs, cats, rats
and mice, fnakes, toads, leather, dung, and eat them in ef-
let but alſo mothers come to eat their own children, and
men the flesh of their own arms, as it fell out to Zeno the
emperor. If hunger be fo horrible a mifchief in this life,
how will it affli&t the damned in the other? without all doubt,
the damned would rather tear themfelves in pieces, than fuf-
fer it. Neither ſhall thirſt torment them lefs.
The fenfe of touching, as it is the most extended fenfe of
all the reft, fo fhall it be the moft tormented in that burning
fire. We are amazed to think of the inhumanity of Phala-
ris, who roaſted men alive in his brazen bull. This was a
toy in respect of that fire of hell, which penetrates the very
entrails of the body, without confuming them. The burn-
ing of a finger only does caufe fo great a torment, that it is
infufferable; but far greater were it to burn the whole arm:
and far greater were it befides the arms, to burn the legs:
(r) Quintil. Declam. 12.
and
'
360
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
and far more violent torment would it be to burn the whole
body. This torment is fo great, that it cannot be expreffed
in words, fince it includes or comprifes as many torments as
the body of man hath joints, fine ws, arteries, &c. and efpe-
cially being caufed by that fo penetrating and true fire, of
which St. Auftine fays, that this temporal fire, is but a paint-
ed fire in respect of that in hell infomuch that the fire of
hell, does exceed ours by fo many degrees, as a thing in life
and reality, exceeds the fame in a picture. In conformity to
what is here faid, venerable Peter Cluniacenfis writes, (and
when we read fuch like ftories, from the reprefentations.
therein contained, we are to raiſe our thoughts to the fub-
ſtance therein reprefented) This venerable man then writes,
That a wicked Prieft being ready to give up the ghoft, there
appeared unto him two fiery devils, who brought with them
a frying pan, in which they told him they would fry him in
hell; and a drop of hot liquor then falling out of the frying-
pan upon his hand, in a moment burned him to the very
bones, in the fight of all that were prefent, who remained
aftoniſhed to fee the efficacy and violence of that infernal
fire. Whereupon Nicholas of Nice fays, that if there were
a fire made of all the wood in the world, it would not be
able to cauſe ſo much torment, as the leaft fpark of hell fire.
Cæfarius (s) does alfo write, That Theodofius Bishop of Maf-
trick, had a fervant by name Eberbach, who in a raging fit
of anger, gave himſelf to the devil, upon condition he
would help him, to take revenge upon his enemies. Some
years after this man fell grievoufly fick of a difeafe, that
brought him to the point of death; and being now dead in
all mens judgment, his foul was caft into a fea of fire,
where he remained fuffering, until fuch time as an angel of
Heaven came unto him, and faid, Behold what they are to
ſuffer that ſerve the devil. But if fo great a mercy ſhould
be fhewed unto thee, as to grant thee longer life, wouldeft
thou not spend it in doing penance for thy fins? He replied,
There can be nothing fo hard or painful, which I would not
undergo to eſcape this torment. Then the Lord uſed that
mercy to him, as to let him return to the ufe of life and
fenfes, and rifing off the bier, where he was already placed
to be carried to burial, all that were prefent were aſtoniſhed
at him who at the fame inftant, began a courfe of life of
moſt auſtere and rigorous penance. He went bare-foot upon
(3) Cæfar. 1. 12. mirac. c, 23.
thorns
CAP. X.
351
the Temporal and Eternal.
thorns and briars, ftore of blood iffuing from the wounds
received. He lived only on bread and water, and that in a
very fmall quantity. What money he had he gave to the
poor. There were many, who wondering at the rigour of
his penance, endeavoured to moderate the excefs of his fer-
vour and aufterities; to whom he answered, Wonder not
hereat; for I have fuffered torments of a far different kind:
and if you had been there, you would frame a far different
apprehenfion of them: And tor to explicate the exceffive
torment that fire caufed, he faid, That if all the trees in the
world were put in one heap and fet on fire, I would rather
burn there till the day of judgment, than fuffer only for the
ſpace of one hour that fire which I have experienced. Now
what a miferable unhappiness will it be to burn into thoſe
flames of hell, not only for one hour, but till the day of
judgment, yea even for all eternity, world without end?
Who would not efteem it an hideous torment, if he were to
be burned alive an hundred times, and his torments were to
last every time for an hour's space? with what compaffionate
eyes, would all the world look upon ſuch a miſerable wretch?
Nevertheleſs without all doubt, any of the damned in hell,
would receive this as a great happineſs to end his torments,
with thofe hundred times burning. For what compariſon
is there betwixt an hundred hours burning, with fome ſpace
of time betwixt every hour, and to burn an hundred years of
continual torment? And what comparifon will there be,
betwixt burning for an hundred years ſpace, and to be burn-
ing without interruption, as long as God is God? Let a
chriſtian, who hath ever committed a mortal fin, confider
this, and let him fee what can be difficult, ſharp and intoler-
able, fince thereby he deferved to be caft into hell: and let
him fee, whether he think any tribulation and affliction
would be too great to give fatisfaction. Well may he ſay,
I deferved to ſuffer greater torments, and therefore will not
complain of this my light fuffering. Venerable Bede (t)
doth alfo write of one, to whom the pains and torments, as
allo the joys and blifs of the other life were fhewn: and
having obtained leave to return to this world again, he re-
nounced all he had in this life, and betook himſelf unto a
monaftery, where he perfevered in a moft rigid manner of
life, to his dying day: infomuch that his manner of living
gave perpetual teftimony, that, although he was filent, yet
(t) Beda de Geft. Anglorum. 1. 5.
Z z
he
362
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
he had feen horrible things, and that he had hopes to ob-
tain other great ones, which did indeed deſerve to be thirſt-
ed after. He entered into a frozen river, which was near
the convent, without putting off his cloaths, having first
broke the ice in feveral places, that he might be able to get
into the water; and afterwards let his cloaths to dry upon
his back. Some admired that a man's body was able to
fuffer ſo great cold in the winter time; And to thofe, who
demanded, How he could poffibly endure it: He replied, I
have feen colds far greater. And when they faid unto him :
How can you ſo conſtantly keep fuch a rigorous and auftere
manner of life? He replied, I have feen tar greater auſteri-
ty. Neither did he relent in the rigour of his penance, even
in his decrepit age: but was very careful to chalife his flesh
with continual fafts; and his exemplary converſation and
wholefome admonitions were fuch, as did much good to
many, and efficaciously ftirred them up, to the amendment.
of their lives.
We must make ufe of this felf-fame confideration, to en-
Courage ourſelves to fuffer in this life, all that can be ſuffer-
ed, in regard that in the other, we fhould fuffer more than
can be ſuffered. Hell certainly is more unfufferable, than
faſting with bread and water: far more than a rough hair-
cloth, or a diſcipline though never ſo bloody: far more than
the greateſt injuries or difgraces that can be put upon us.
Let us then fuffer that which is leffer, to be freed from that
which is greater; eſpecially being fo much greater, by how
much a living creature exceeds a painted one. Let us not
complain of any thing that may happen unto us in this lite:
But let us rather be corsforted, that we, who have deſerved
to be in thoſe eternal flames without profit, or hope of re-
ward, may by our patient fuffering here fome temporal af-
Aiations, expect an everlaſting reward for them in Heaven.
The mother of St. Catharine of Siena (v), carried her to
certain baths, to divert and recreate her, becauſe he was
very weak, and disfigured with leannefs. But the faint
could find in this entertainment a fharp crofs, which was,
that entering into the bath alone, fhe went to the bath-head,
where the water came out in a manner boiling hot, and
there fuffered herſelf to be fcalded to that degree, that it
feemed impoffible for a weak damfel to have been able to
endure it. Her confeffarius aſked her afterwards, How fhe
(u) Hift. S. Dom. 2. p. lib. 2.
had
CAP. X. the Temporal and Eternal.
363
had fo much courage to abide fuch heat, and for fo long a
fpace? She replied, That when he placed herself there, the
alfo placed her confideration in the pains of Purgatory and
Hell-fire, and withal begged of God Almighty, whom the
had offended, that he would be pleafed to change the pun-
ifhments fhe had deferved by her fins, into temporal pains
and fufferings: whereby all the pains of this life, feemed
very eaſy unto her to fuffer, and the great heat of the ſcald-
ing water of the bath, feemed a refreſhment to her, in refpect
of the fiery furnace of Hell, in which the damned are for
ever and ever, to be tormented.
And in regard holy (cripture calls Hell a pool, or lake of
fire, I will here rehearſe a ſtory out of St. Petrus Damianus,
(x) which will give us to underſtand the terribleness of
this torment. In Lombardy (faith he) there was a man cun-
ning and crafty, of a notable talking tongue, and a friend
of breaking jets on all occafions: and commonly by reaſon
of his quick wit, he came off with credit; And if at any
time it happened to him other ways, he knew how to put f
off very handiomely. In fine, he was one of thoſe that
knew very well how to live in the world. But what end had
all his tricks and flights? he died; for against this stroke he
had no defence. His body was buried in the church, and
his foul in the place, which God grant no body may ever
come in. An holy religious man being in prayer, he faw
in ſpirit a great lake, not of water, but of fire, which boiled
like a pot, and cait flames now and then up into the heavens,
which fent forth fparks in fo great quantity, and with fuch
fearful noiſe, that it caufed great horror to hear and fee it.
What would it be to fuffer it? The miſerable foul of this
man we ſpeak of, did fuffer it in all extremity. Moreover
he faw, that the lake was encompaffed round about with
fearful ferpents, and terrible dragons, which had their mouths
open towards the lake, with many rows of harp teeth to
guard the lake. In this confufion of fire and cruel beafls,
the foul of the miferable babler, was howling and crying,
and fwimming upon the flames, endeavouring to get to the
bank, and drawing nigh, the comfort he found was, that a
terpent stretching out a long neck, and a wide mouth, was
ready to tear him in pieces, and fwallow him; He endea-
voured to turn another way in the lake, and drawing near
the fide, he lighted upon a dragon, the only fight whereof
made
(x) Pet. Damian. 1. 2. ep. 15. ad Defid, c. 4.
364
The Difference betwixt
f.
L. I B. IV.
made him make more hafte back again, than he had done
to come thither. He fwam in the lake burning alive; and
wherever he came, he found the like encounter; but which
is worfe, he fhall remain there whilft God is God, without
any remedy at all. And with much reafon, faith St. Peter
Damianus, he fuffered this puniſhment, of not being able to
get out of that lake of fire, in regard he in this life, got fo
cunningly out of any adversity by his many fhifts. In this
manner God Almighty gave to underſtand by this revelati-
on, the extremity of this torment. But it is to be noted,
that it is far greater than is here expreffed; becauſe this was
not ſo much to tell us what hell is, as to declare by fome
fimilitude or reprefentation, which may remain fixed in our
fenfes, that which indeed, exceeds all fimilitude or refem-
Blance.
TH
§. 3.
The pains of the Powers of a damned Soul.
HE imagination fhall no less infli& thoſe miſerable of
fenders, encreafing the pains of the fenfes by the live-
linefs of its apprehenfion. For if in this life the imagination
is fometimes fo vehement, that it hurts more than real evils,
in the other the torment which it cauſes, will be exceffive.
Alexander Tralianus (y) writes of a woman who was ex-
tremely ill, only with a falfe imagination that fhe had fwal-
lowed a fnake, and was perfuaded that the already felt moſt
grievous pains, by the fnake gnawing of her entrails. What
will the appichenfion of the truth do, in thofe miferable
wretches, when the worm of their confcience will be conti-
nually gnawing their very hearts? Alfabaravius writes of
others, who complained of the great pains they endured by
whipping, when no man touched a thread of their garment.
Much more is that which Fulgofius (z) recounts as an eye-
witness, that being judge in a duel, one of the competitors
made the other fly, but inftantly fell down dead himſelf
without any other caufe, than an imagination that he was
hurt to death; for he neither received wound nor blow,
neither was the fign of any found upon his dead body. If
in this life the imagination be fo powerful in men who are
(y) Vide Marcel. Don. in Hift. Medica 1. 2. c. 1.
(2) Baptift. Fulgof, 1. 9.
in
CAP. X.
365
the Temporal and Eternal.
in health, and have other diverfions, as to caufe a fenſe of
pain, where none hurts grief, where none moleſts, and death
where none kills, What fhall it be in Hell, where there is
nothing of delight to divert it where fo many devils puniſh
and afflict with torments, preferving only life, that the pain.
of death may live eternally? And if we fee fome timorous
people, with an imaginary fear, tremble and remain half
dead, there is no doubt but the imagination of thofe mifera-
ble perfons, joined with the horror of the place where they
are, will caufe a thousand pains and torments.
The powers of the foul fhall be thofe, which fhall fuffer
the greatest lashes. The will fhall be tormented with an
eternal abhorring and rage against itſelf, againſt all crea-
tures, and against God the Creator of all: and fhall with
an intolerable fadnefs, anger, grief and diforder of all the
affections, violently defire things impoffible, and deſpair of
all what is good. And if joy confifts in the poffeffing of
what one loves, and pain in the want of that which is defi-
red, and being neceffitated to what is abhorred, What
greater pain and torment, than to be ever defiring that
which fhall never be enjoyed, and ever abhorring that which
we can never be quit of? Wherefore St. Bernard (a) ſays,
"What thing more painful, than ever to will that which
"ſhall never be, and never to will that which fhall not
" ceaſe to be?" That which he defires, he ſhall never ob-
tain: and what he defires not, eternally fuffer. And from
hence fhall (pring that raging fury, which David fpeaks of:
"The finner fhall fee and be raging, he fhall gnafh his
6 teeth and be conſumed."
66
This rage and madness fhall be augmented by the defpair
which ſhall be joined unto it. For as no man fins without
injury to the Divine mercy, prefuming to fin in hope, he
may repent and be pardoned: So it was fit that the Divine-
juſtice ſhould chaftife the finner, with a defpair of all reme-
dy, that fo he, who abuſed the Divine-benefits with a falſe
hope, might feel the punishment of a true defpair. This
torment ſhall be most terrible unto the damned. For as the
greateſt evil is eaſed by hope, fo the leaft is made grievous
by defpair. Hope in affli&ions is fupported by two things;
One is the fruit, which may refult from fuffering; The
other is the end and conclufion of the evil fuffered. But in
regard the deſpair of the damned is of fo great evils, the
defpair
(a) Bern. 1. 5. de Confid. ad Eugen. Papam.
366
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IV.
deſpair itſelf will be a moft terrible one. If one fuffers and
reaps fruit from it, 'tis a comfort unto him, and the grief is
recompenced by the joy of the benefit thereof; but when
the tuffering is without fruit or profit, then it comes to be
heavy indeed. The hope of a good harveft, makes the la-
bourer with chearfulnefs, endure the toil of plowing and
fowing; but if he were certain to reap no profit, every pace
he moved would be grievous and irkfome unto him. A day-
labourer with the hope of his wages, goes through the toil
of the day with great comfort. But if they commanded him
to work for nothing, he would have no heart to work at all.
The holy martyrs and confeffors of Christ, what penances,
what rigors, what martyrdoms, have they willingly under
gone, expecting the fruit they were to draw from their pati
ence? And though in temporal afflictions, this hope of re-
compence ſhould fail, yet the hope that they would tome-
time ceafe and have an end, would afford fome comfort and
eaſe unto the fufferers. But in hell both thofe are wanting a
The damned fhall neither receive reward for their fufferings,
nor ſhall their torments ever have an end. Of them it is
that St. John (peaks; "They fhall feek death, and ſhall
not find it; They fhall defire to die, and death fhall fly
"from them." Olet a chriftian confider how great a re-
compence attends the leaft of our fufferings here in Chrift's
ſervice, and how vain and unprofitable fhall all our fuffer-
ings be hereafter. One penitent knock upon the breaft here,
may gain eternal glory; There the moſt intenfe pains and
torments, both in foul and body, cannot deſerve a drop of
cold water, nor ſo much eaſe, as to turn from one fide to the
other. In this raging defpair ends the temerarious hopes of
finners. Hell is full of thofe, who hoped they ſhould never
enter into it and full of thofe, who defpair of getting out
of tt. They offended with a prefumptuous hope they should
not die in fin and that proving falle, are fallen into eter-
nal deſperation. There is no hope can excufe the falling
into fo great a danger. Let us therefore fecure Heaven, and
not fin.
:
The memory fhall be another cruel tormentor of thofe
miferable finners, converting all they have done good of
bad into torments: The good, becauſe they have loft their
reward, The bad, becauſe they have deſerved their punish-
The delights alfo which they have enjoyed, and alí
the happineſs of this life, in which they have triumphed,
(leeing
ment.
CAP. X.
367
the Temporal and Eternal.
feeing that for them they fell into this mifery) ſhall be a
Sharp fword, which fhall pierce their hearts. They ſhall burſt
with grief, when they fhall compare the fhortness of their
pait pleaſures, with the eternity of their prefent torments.
What mathematician fo learned, as can perfectly fet out
the excess of thofe eternal years of the other life, unto thoſe
ſhort, few, and evil days of this? What groans, what ſighs
will they pour out, when they fee that thofe delights have
hardly lafted an inftant, and that the pains they fuffer for
them ſhall last for ages and eternities, all that is paſt appear-
ing but as a dream? Let us tremble now at the felicity of
this life, if it make fuch wounds in the hearts of thofe who
have uſed it ill. Let us tremble at all our pleaſures, fince
they may turn into Arfenick and Hemlock. The miferable
wretch fhall with great grief remember, how often he might
have gained Heaven, and did it not, hut is now tumbled
into Hell, and fhall fay unto himself, How many times.
might I have prayed, and ſpent that time in play? but now
pay for it. How many times ought I to have fafted, and
left it to fatisfy my greedy appetite? How many times might
I have given alms, and fpent it in fin? How many times
might I have pardoned my enemies, and chofe rather to be
revenged? How many times might I have frequented the
facraments, and forbore them, becaufe I would not quit the
occaſion of ſinning? There never wanted means of ferving
God; but I never made ufe of it, and am therefore now
justly paid for all. Behold accurfed Caitiff, that entertain-
ing thyfelf in pleaſures, thou haft for toys and fooleries loft
Heaven. If thou wouldeft, thou mighteſt have been a com-
panion for angels; if thou wouldeft, thou mighteft have
been in eternal joy: and thou hast loſt all for the pleaſure of
a moment. O accurfed and wretched fool, thy Redeemer
courted thee with Heaven, and thou defpifeft him for a baſe
trifle. This was thy fault, and now thou fuffereſt for it; and
fince thou wouldeft not be happy with God, thou shalt now
be eternally curfed, by him and his angels.
I
The understanding fhall torment itself with difcourfes of
great bitterness, difcourfing of nothing but what may grieve
it. Ariftotle ſhall not there take delight in his wiſdom, nor
Seneca comfort himſelf with his philofophy. Galen hall find
no remedy in his phyfic, nor the profoundeft fcholar in his
divinity. A certain doctor of Paris appeared after death;
unto the Bishop of that city, and gave him an account that
he
368
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
i
he was damned. The Bishop demanded of him, if he had
there any knowledge. He answered, That he knew nothing
but only three things? The first, that he was eternally
damned: The fecond, that the fentence paffed against him
was irrevocable: The third, that for the vain pleaſure of
the world, he was deprived of the vifion of God. And then
he deſired to know of the Bishop, if there were any people in
the world remaining. The Bishop afking him the reafon of
that question, he anſwered, that within thefe few last days,
there have ſo many fouls defcended into Hell, that me thinks
there ſhould not any be left upon earth.
In this power of the foul, is engendered the worm of con-
fcience, which is fo often propofed to us in holy fcripture,
as a moſt terrible torment, and greater than that of fire.
Only in one fermon, or rather in the epilogue of that fer-
mon (b), Chrift our Redeemer three times menaces us with
that worm, which gnaws the conſcience, and tears in pieces
the hearts of the damned, admonishing us as often, That
their worm ſhall never die, nor their fire be quenched. For
as the worm, which breeds in dead flesh, or that which
breeds in wood, eats and gnaws that fubftance of which they
are engendered; fo the worm, which is bred from fin, is in
perpetual enmity with it, gnawing and devouring the heart
of the finner with raging, defperate, and now unprofitable
grief: ftill putting him in mind, that by his own fault he
loft that eternal glory, which he might ſo eaſily have ob-
tained, and is now fallen into eternal torments, from whence
there is no redemption. And certainly this refentment of
the lofs of Heaven, fhall more torment him than the fire of
Hell. Of an evil confcience even in this life, St. Auflin (c)
faid, that amongſt all the tribulations of the foul, none was
greater than that of a guilty confcience. Even the Gentiles
knew this, and therefore Quintilian (d) exclaims, O fad re-
membrance and knowledge, more grievous than all torments!
And Seneca (e) ſays, that all evil actions are whipp'd by the
conſcience of themſelves: that perpetual vexation and re-
fentment, brings great afflictions and torments upon the ac-
tors: that wickedness drinks up the greateſt part of its own
poiſon, and is a puniſhment unto itſelf.
Certainly it were a great rigor, if a father fhould be forced.
to be preſent at the execution of his fon: but more, if he
fhould
(b) Marc. 9.
(c) Aug, in Pfal. 45,
18)
Quint. Declam. 12.
(e) Senec, ep. 97.
CAP. X.
369
the Temporal and Eternal.
ſhould be compelled to be the hang-man; and yet greater,
if the gallows fhould he placed before his own door, ſo that
he could neither go in or out, without beholding that af
front and contumely; but far greater cruelty, if they ſhould
make the guilty perfon to execute himſelf, and that by cut-
ting his body in pieces, member after member, or tearing
off his flesh with his own teeth. This is the cruelty and
torment of an evil confcience, with which a finner is racked
and tortured amongſt thofe eternal flames, not being able
to baniſh his faults from his memory, nor their punishment
from his thoughts. The envy alfo, which they ſhall bear
towards thoſe, who have gained Heaven by as ſmall matters
as they have loft it, fhall much add to their grief. Thoſe
who are hungry, if they fee others meaner than they feed
at fome fplendid and plentiful table, and cannot be admit-
ted themſelves, become more hungry'; fo fhall it fare with
the damned, who ſhall be more afflicted by beholding others,
fometimes less than themſelves, enjoy that eternal happineſs,
which they through want of care are deprived of. Efau
though a clown, having understood, that his brother Jacob
had obtained his father's benedi&tion, cried out and roared
like a lyon, and confumed himself with refentment and
horror. What lamentations ſhall thoſe of the damned be,
when they ſhall ſee that the juft, have gained the benedi&ti-
on of God, not by any deceit or cozenage uſed by them,
but that they loft it through their own negle&? Thofe who
with opinion of merit, earnestly aim at fome vacant dignity,
if at length they fee themſelves neglected, and with ſhame
put off, their grief and indignation fwells above meaſure :
In like manner, I fay, fhall it be with thoſe damned wretch-
es, who will be far more afflicted, by the confideration of
thoſe great goods and eternal felicities, which they fee them-
felves have loſt, and thoſe to enjoy them, whom they deem-
ed far inferior to them in merit. Let us now therefore have
remorſe of conſcience, whilft we may kill the worm, leſt it
then bites us, when it cannot die.
1
A a a
CAP.
370
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
C. A P. XI.
Of eternal Death, and the punishment of Talian in the
Damned.
A
FTER all this, there fhall not want in Hell the pains.
of death, which amongst humane puniſhments is the
greatest. That of Hell is a living death, and doth as far
exceed this of earth, as the fubftance doth a ſhadow. The
death which men give, together with death, takes away the
pain and ſenſe of dying, but the eternal death of finners is
with fenfe, and by fo much greater, as it hath more of life,
recollecting within itfelf the worst of dying, which is to pe-
riff, and the moſt intolerable of life, which is to fuffer pain.
And therefore St. Bernard calls the pain of the damned a
living death and a dead life; and Pope Innocent the Third
an immortal death. O death, how much leſs cruel art thou
in taking away life, than in forcing to live in fo painful a
manner? St. Gregory (f) alfo fays; " In hell there fhall
"be unto the miferable, a death without death, and an
"end without end; for their death fhall ever live, and their
"end ſhall ever begin." Mortal fin is the greateſt of all
evils, and confequently deferves the greateſt of all puniſh-
ments. Becauſe in ordinary death, which takes away the
ufe of the fenfes, the rigor of it is not felt, God ordained.
another kind of death, in which the fenfes perpetually dying,
ſhould perpetually feel the force of pain, and fhould ever live
in the agony of dying. This David fignified, when he faid,
That death fhould feed on the damned; for as the flock paſ-
tures upon the grafs, but ends it not, becauſe it ſtill grows
green and freſh again: fo that death feeds upon finners, but
confumes them not.
This death of the damned, the holy fcripture calls the
fecond death, becauſe it fucceeds the firft, and comprehends.
both that of ſoul and body. And with much reaſon may it
alfo be called a double death: becaufe death is then dou-
bled when we die, and feel the torment of dying which in
the firſt death of the body we do not. Even here amongst
(f) Greg. Moral. 1. 9. c. 49.
បទ៖
CAP. XI.
375
the Temporal and Eternal.
us, if there fhould be a condition, in which we might be fen-
fible, but of fome part of that which death brings along with
it, it would be efteemed a greater evil than death itſelf.-
Who doubts but if one after burial, fhould find himself alive.
and fenfible, under the earth, where he could ſpeak with no
body, feeing nothing but darkness, hear nothing but thoſe
who walked above him, fmell nothing but the rotten ſtink of
their bodies, eat nothing but his own flesh, nor feel any
thing but the earth which oppreffed him, or the cold pave-
ment of the vault where he lay: Who doubts not, I fay,
but that this estate, were worfe than to be wholly dead, fince
life only ferved to feel the pain of death? For this reafon
the ingenious Romans, when they would puniſh facrilege,
which is the greateft crime made ufe of in interring the offend-
ers alive, as of the greatelt puniſhment: and therefore exe
cuted it upon their veftal-virgins, when they offended against
their chastity, as upon Oppia and Minutia, that being alive,
they might feel the pain and bitternefs of dying. And cer
tainly Zeno the emperor found this puniſhment fo bitter, that,
he devoured his own flesh by morfels. What fepulchre is
more horrible than that of Hell, which is eternally fhut up:
on thoſe who are in it, where the miſerable damned remain
not only under earth, but under fire, having fenfe for no-
thing but to feel death, darknefs, loathfomnefs, pain and
tink? This is therefore a double death, becaufe to feel the
pain of death, is an evil double to that of dying. Where-
fore St. Aufline (g) faid, No death is greater or worse, than
where death dies not.
Befides, this death of Hell may be called a double death,
in refpect it contains both the death of fin, and the death
of pain: thofe unfortunate wretches ftanding condemned,
never to be freed from the death of fin, and for ever to be
tormented with the death of pain. There is no greater
death than that of the foul, which is fin, in which the mif-
erable are to continue whilft God is God, with that infinite
evil, and that ugly deformity, which fin draws along with
it, which is worſe than to fuffer that eternal fire, which is
but the puniſhment of it. After fin, what pain ſhould there
be greater than that of fin itſelf? and for this reafon in hell,
in regard 'tis the torment for fin, it is a greater pain than
death itſelf, or the most horrible death of all. Who trem-
bies not with the memory only that he is to die, remembring
(g) Lib. 6. de Civit. ca. 12.
that
372
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
that he is to cease to be, that the feet whereon he walks,
are no more to bear him, that his hands are no more to ſerve
him, nor his eyes to fee? Why then do we not rather trem-
ble at the thought of Hell, in refpect of which, the first
death is no puniſhment, but a reward, a happineſs, and a
joy, there being no damned in Hell, but would take that
death, which we here infli& for offences, as an eaſe of his
pains? O how much does the Divine-juftice exceed the hu-
mane, fince that, which men give unto thofe, whom they
condemn for the greatest offences, would be received by
thoſe whom God condemns, as a great cafe, comfort, and
accompliſhment of their defires, who fall defire death, and
death fhall fly from them? for unto all their evils and mife-
ries, this as the greatest is adjoined, that neither they nor it
fhall ever die. This circumftance of being eternal, doth
much augment the torments of Hell, fuch being the condi-
tion of eternity, (as hath been already declared) that it doth
infinitely augment that, whereunto it is annexed. Let us
fuppofe, that one had but a gnat, that ſhould fting his right
hand, and a wafp at the left, and that one foot ſhould be
pricked with a thorn, and the other with a pin. If this only
were to laſt for ever, it would be an intolerable torment.
What will it then be, when hands, feet, arm, head, breast,
and entrails, are to burn for all eternity? The only holding
one finger in a candle, for the ſpace of a quarter of an hour,
no body would be able to fuffer it. To be then plunged
into the eternal flames for years eternal, what underſtand-
ing is there that is able, I do not fay, to exprefs in words,
but to frame a due conception of this torment? That a
torment is never to ceaſe, and that the tormented is to live
for ever, the only thinking of it caufes great horror; What
would it be to fuffer it? A certain man who had not much
repentance or feeling, it feems, of his fins, having expreffed.
divers moſt heinous offences, to the holy virgin St. Lidwine,
the faint replied, 'That fhe would do penance for them,
contenting herſelf, that he ſhould only lie in his bed one
night in the fame pofture, looking up towards Heaven
without moving or turning himſelf all night. The man
very contented and enjoyful, If my penance, fays he, be no
greater than this, I fhall foon have performed it. But he
was fcarce laid down in his bed, when he had a mind to
turn on one fide, it being a great trouble to him not to do
it, perfuading himſelf, that he never lay fo uneafy his whole
life
CAP. XI.
the Temporal and Eternal.
:
373
life before and faid unto himself; My bed is a very good
one, and foft, I am well in health, what is wanting to me?
nothing elſe is wanting, but only to turn me from one fide
to the other. But this what is it? be quiet, and fleep as
thou art till morning. Can't thou not? then tell me, what
doth ail thee? By this means he called to mind eternity,
dikourfing thus with hiafelf: How comes this to paſs, that
thou can't not reft one fingle night, it being fuch a torture
to be fill, without turning thyfelf? What would it be, if
thou were to remain in one pofture three or four nights?
Certainly it would be a death unto me. Truly I ſhould
never have believed, one could fuffer fo much in a thing ſo
cafy. Woe is me. How little patience have I, fince a thing
fo fmall and trivial, grieves me fo much! What would it
have been, if ſhe had commanded me to lie watching many
weeks? What would it be, if I had the cholic, or were tor-
mented with the ſtone, or sciatica? Far greater evils than
theſe are prepared for thee in Hell, whither thou poftest, by
running into ſo many fins. Confider what a couch is pre-
pared for thee, in that abyfs of mifery, what feather-beds,
what holland-ſheets. Thou shalt be cast upon burning-coals,
flames and fulphur fhall be thy coverlets. Mark well, whe-
ther this bed be for one night only. Yea nights, days,
months and years, ages and eternities, thou art to remain
on that ſide thou falleft on, without having the leaſt relief,
to turn thyself unto the other. That fire fhall never die,
neither ſhalt thou ever die, to the end its torments may last
eternally. After an hundred years, and after an hundred
thoufand millions of years, they fhall be as lively and as vi-
gorous as the firſt day. See what thou doft, by not fearing
eternal death, by making no account of eternity, by fetting
fo much of thy affection on a temporal life. Thou doft not
walk the right way; change thy life, and begin to ferve thy
Creator. So did this man, being convinced by this diſcourſe.
He amended his life. And let him do the like, who comes
to read this. Let him know, that if they fhould tell him,
that he were not to ftir out of a bed of roſes, for twenty
years space, he would not be able to fuffer it. How will he
be able to lie upon a bed of hot burning coals, in flames of
fulphur, for all eternity.
$. 2.
1
314
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
§. 2.
There
Unto all thofe pains, fhall be joined that of Talion, which
is, To pay with proportion fo much for fo much, which
alſo ſhall not be wanting in Hell. And therefore it is faid
in the Apocalyps, By how much be glorified herſelf, and
lived in delights, Give her fo much of torment.
ſhall the delicious perfon be afflicted, he, who contemned
others, be deſpiſed, and the proud trampled under foot: it
being moft convenient for the Divine-juftice, that the dam-
ned in hell, ſhould be puniſhed in the fame manner, where-
in they have here offended; as may appear by this example
rehearſed by Henry Gran (h). A young damfel, as to out-
ward appearance, given to prayer, faftings, watchings and
penance, and for this reaſon, esteemed by all for a faint.
She fell dangerously fick, and having made her confeffion,
died. Within a fhort time after, the appeared to her con-
feffarius, in a black and fearful ſhape. The prieſt not know.
ing her, demanded who ſhe was. I am, quoth fhe, that one
that was held by all for a faint. I am none, but a moſt miſ-
erable wretch, fince I am condemned to hell fire, where I
ſhall never ceaſe to be tormented, in company of the moſt
abject and contemptible friends, and that for the content.
and fatisfaction I took in myſelf, and for the pride I had,
eſteeming myself far above others, having a bafe and vile
conceit of all. For this vice, I fhall live in eternal torments.
Though God fhould dry up the fea, and fill up the empty
places thereof, with the fmalleft fand that can be imagined,
and fhould permit, that a little bird fhould but take one
grain every hundred years, God's wrath and juſtice would
not be fatisfied with the torments my foul fhall fuffer, until
fuch time as the faid little bird, ſhould take out every grain
of the aforefaid fand. For were this granted, I would moſt
willingly fuffer all the time required, for the performance
thereof, all the pains and torments of all the damned fouls
in Hell, with this only provifo, that at laſt, my foul might
come to obtain falvation. But there is no remedy now;
And therefore, Father, do not put yourſelf to the trouble to
pray for me, being nothing can avail me.
In this hiftory, we have ſeen pride chaſtiſed by humilia-
tion. In this that follows, we fhall fee pleaſures and delight-
(h) Henric. Gran. d, 9. c. 200.
ful
}
CAP. XI.
375
the Temporal and Eternal.
ful entertainments, chaftifed with proportionable torments.
Cantipratenfis (i) writes, That in the parts of Tentonia, there
was a foldier very valiant, and much given to tilting, and
running at the ring. And accordingly as he lived, fo he
died miferably. His wife, who was a devout perfon, and of
exemplary life, after the death of her huſband, had in an ex-
tafy, manifeſted unto her, the miferable ſtate of her huſband's
foul. It was repreſented unto her, as if it were ſtill united
to the body, encompaffed with a multitude of devils; where-
of the principal in her hearing gave command, they ſhould
furnish their new gueſt with a pair of fhoes, fit for his feet,
which piercing them, might reach to his very head. Then
he commanded, they fhould put him on a coat of mail,
made full of ſharp points, which might pierce his whole bo-
dy in all parts. After this, a third command was, that they
fhould put him on a helmet, with a fharp nail, that might
pierce his head, and come to be clenched below his feet.
Finally by his command, they hung a target about his
neck fo heavy, that it might cruſh all the bones in his body.
All this being pun&ually and fpeedily performed, the prince
of darknefs told his officers: This worthy perfon, after he
had entertained himfelf in tilting, and the like menages of
valour, was accuſtomed to refreſh his toiled limbs with fweet
baths, and then to retire to fome foft bed, fporting himfelf
afterwards with other comfortable dalliances of fenfuality.
Give him now fomewhat of thoſe refreshments which are
ufual here. They prefently hurled him into a fire prepared:
then to eafe him, they placed him in a bed red-hot, where a
toad waited for him, of an immenfe fize, with eyes moft
dreadful, which clafped the foldier very clofe, kiffing and.
embracing him in fuch a rueful manner, that it was the
moſt dreadful of all the torments he had ſuffered, and brought
him even to pangs of death. That good woman, who by
God's appointment, had feen what paffed in her husband,
had this vifion fo freſh in memory all the days of her life,
and with fuch continual oppreflions of heart, that none, who
had known her before, beholding her afterwards, could
otherwife imagine, but that the fuffered fome great and ex-
traordinary affliction.
Many other pains and torments, proportionable to the
crimes committed, may be feen in the works of Wermero (k).
A gentle-
(i) Cantip. I. 2. c. 49. p. 2. Joan. Major. v. Infernus. Ex. 6.
(E) Wermer. Mon. Carthu. in fafciculo morum,
376
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
A gentleman of noble parentage, an English man by birth,
by divine infpiration, became a Ciftriecan Monk. He en-
tered upon this courfe of life, and continued with ſuch great
courage, that he ftuck not to challenge the devil, and bid
him defiance. The enemy made his cell the field of battle.
Here he affaulted him first with whips: then upon a certain
occafion, gave him fuch blows, that the blood burst out at
his mouth and nofe. At the noife the Monks came in, and
finding him half dead, they carried him to his bed, where.
he lay for the fpace of three days, without giving any figns
of life. In which time, in the company of an angel, he
defcended into a very obfcure place, where he ſaw a man
ſeated in a chair of fire, and certain women very beautiful,
thrufting into his mouth burning torches, drawing them out
at other parts of his body, which had been the inftruments
of his fins. The monk being aftonished at this fpectacle,
the angel told him: This miferable wretch was a very pow-
erful man in the world, and much given to women, and
for this reafon, the devils in fhape of women, do torment
him as thou fee'ft. Paffing a little farther he beheld ano-
ther, whom the infernal fpirits were fleaing alive, and hav-
ing rubbed all his body over with falt, they put him to roast.
upon a grid-iron. This man, faid the angel, was a great
Lord, fo cruel to his vaffals, as the devils are now to him.
A little farther, they met with other perfons of divers ſtates
and conditions, which were tormented with feveral kinds
of torments: Many religious, both men and women, whoſe
lives had been contrary to their profeffion: Talkers, cen-
furers of other men's lives, flaves to their bellies, defiled with
luft, and other fuch like vices. To thefe the minifters of
vengeance, in ſhape of moft ugly fellows, gave many blows,
in fuch fort, that they dashed out their brains, and made
their eyes fly out of their heads, becauſe in their works they
were blind, and without judgment: a chaftifement, which
the wife-man appoints for fuch like perfons. Afterwards he
lifted up his eyes, and beheld one fastened to a horrible
wheel, turning in fuch a dreadful manner, that the Monk
here, was almost befide himſelf. That, thou fee't, is terri-
ble, faid the angel; but far more terrible will be, what thou
fhalt now fee. At the inftant, the wheel began to run front
aloft, down to the most profound depths, with fuch horrid
joggs, and with fuch noife, as if all the world, earth, hea-
ven, and all were breaking in pieces. At this fo fudden
and
CAP. XI. the Temporal and Eternal.
377
and direful accident, all the priſoners and goalers of hell,
break out into great cries, curfing and damning him, that
came in the wheel. This man, faid the angel, is Judas the
apoſtle, who betrayed his maſter and as long as he ſhall
reign in glory, which fhall be world without end, fo long
fhall this miferable wretch lie thus tormented. With theſe
repreſentations, God hath given us to underſtand, the pro-
portion his juftice obferves in his chaftifements, to make us
form fome lively apprehenfions of the greatnefs of thoſe
pains: they being indeed far greater than whatever we can
conceive, by all the rigour imaginable exhibited in the fenfes.
And in regard what enters by the fenfes, prevails more with
us, for this reafon, he reprefents unto us the torments of
the foul, fuitably to thofe fo, horrible to our fenfes, as is to
daſh out the brains, and make the brains fly out of the head.
For though it be true, that this effect is not wrought indeed,
yet the torments inflicted upon the damned fouls, are with-
out compariſon greater, than it would be for a man in this
life, to be fo beaten about the head, till his brains and eyes
flew out. Let us therefore fear the Divine-juſtice: and let
us underſtand, that in thofe parts of the body, we offend
God Almighty with greater delight, we fhall be fure to be
puniſhed with greater torment.
And here may be given this further inftruction, that as
thefe and many fuch like ftories, related for more variety of
diſcourſe in this treatife, oblige us not to a full, and abfolute
belief of them: fo they defire the favour of fo much credit
at leaſt, as is allowed to Livy, Juftin, or other Chronicle-
writers; efpecially the recorders of thefe being fuch, as are
no lefs grave and wife, and acknowledge moreover a greater
obligation of confcience, not to wrong the world with lies,
or empty relations taken up upon the account of frivolous
reports, especially in matters of fuch concernment. And
as we think it not amifs to make uſe, as occafion ferves, of
profane examples and authorities, in confirmation of what
we ufually either fpeak or write, fo without all doubt, the
fame uſe of facred and ecclefiaftical occurrences, may be no
lefs available in fuch matters as theſe.
B b b
CAP.
378
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
C A P. XII.
The fruit which may be drawn, from the confideration of
Eternal Evils.
}
ALL which hath been faid of the pains in Hell, is far
fhort of that which really they are. There is great dif-
ference betwixt the knowledge we have by relation, and
that which we learn by experience. The Machabees knew
that the temple of the Lord, was already prophaned, deſert-
ed and destroyed. They had heard of it, and lamented it
but when they faw with their eyes the fanctuary lie defulate,
the altar prophaned, and the gates burned, there was then
no meaſure in their tears. They tore their garments, caft
aſhes upon their heads, threw themfelves upon the ground,
and their complaints afcended as high as heaven. If then
the relation and diſcourſe of the pains of hell makes us trem-
ble, what ſhall be the fight and experience. This not with-
ſtanding the confideration of what hath been faid, may help
us to form fome conception of the terror and horror of that
place of eternal forrow. Let us, as St. Bernard fays, def
cend into hell whilft we live, that we may not deſcend thi-
ther when we are dead. Let us draw fome fruit from thence
during our lives, from whence nothing but torment is to be
had after death. The principal fruits, which may be drawn
from that confideration, are theſe: In the first place, an ar-
dent love and fincere gratitude towards our Creator; that
having fo often deferved hell, he hath not yet fuffered us to
fall into it. How many be there now in hell, who for their
firſt mortal fin, and only for that one have been ſent thither?
and we, notwithstanding the innumerable fins, which we
have committed, are yet fpared. What did God find in us,
that he ſhould use a mercy towards us for fo many fins,
which he did not afford to others for fo few? Why are we
not then more grateful for ſo many benefits, which we have
no ways deſerved? How grateful would a damned perfon
be, if God ſhould free him from thofe flames, wherein he is
tormented, and place him in the fame condition we now
are? What a life would he lead? what penance would he
under-
CAP. XII.
379
the Temporal and Eternal.
undergo? what aufterity would not appear a pleaſure unto
him? and how grateful would he be unto fo merciful a be-
nefactor? He hath done no lefs for us, but much more.
For, if he hath not drawn us out of hell, he hath not thrown
us into it as we deferved, which is the greater favour. Tell
me, if a creditor ſhould caft that debtor into prifon, who
owed him a thou and duckats, and after the enduring of
much affliction, at laſt releaſe him: or ſhould fuffer another,
who owed him fifty thouſand duckats to go up and down
free, without touching a thread of his garment: Whether of
the debtors received the greater benefit? I believe thou wilt
fay the latter. More then are we indebted unto God Al-
mighty, and therefore ought to ferve him better. Confider
how a man would live, who ſhould be reſtored to life after
he had been in hell. Thou ſhouldeft live better, fince thou
art more indebted to Almighty God. St. Gregory (1) writes
of one, who though he had not been releaſed out of hell,
but only was upon the point of damnation, yet led afterwards.
fuch a life, that the change was admirable. The faint fays,
that a Monk called Peter, who, before he retired to the de-
fert, was in a trance for fome time as dead: and being re-
ſtored to his fenfes made this relation; That he had a fight
of Heil, and that he had feen in it great chaftifements, and
innumerable places full of fire; and that he knew fome, who
had been very powerful in the world, hanging in the midſt
of the flames; and himſelf being now at the brink to be catt
into the fame, he faw on the fudden a bright fhining angel,
who with held him, faying: Return to thy body, and con-
ader well, with what care and diligence it fuits with thy
profeffion, to lead thy life from hence forwards. So it was,
that being returned to his body, he treated it with fuch auf-
erity of penance, watches and faſts, that although he ſhould
not have spoken a word, his manner of life did publiſh, ſuf-
ficiently what he had ſeen.
Secondly, we are taught to exerciſe an invincible pati-
ence in fuffering the afflictions and troubles of this life, that
by enduring theſe thankfully we may escape thoſe of the
other. He who shall confider the eternity of thofe torments
which he deferves, will not grumble at the pains of this ſhort
life how bitter foever. There is no ftate or condition upon
earth, how neceffitous, how poor, how miferable foever,
which the damned would not endure, and think it an infi-
(1) Lib. 4. Dialog. cap. 36.
nite
380
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
nite happineſs, if they might change with it. Neither is
there any courſe of life fo auftere, which he who had once
experienced theſe burning flames, if he might live again,
would not make more rigorous. He who hath once deſerved
eternal torments, let him never murmur at temporal evils;
let his mouth be ever ftopped from complaining of the crof
fes or petty juries offered him in this life, who hath com-
mitted offences worthy the pains of the other. From this
confideration, there was nothing which the faints would not
willingly fuffer, no penance which they would not undergo.
Wherefore St. John the Evangelift, after he had fpoken of
the fmoke, which afcended from the torments of the dam-
ned for a world of worlds, and that they did not reft by day
nor night, preſently adds, Here is the patience of the faints;
becauſe ſeeing that all the troubles of this life were temporal,
and the torments of the other eternal, nothing that they
endured feemed much unto them. So did St. John Chryfo-
flame (m), and advifes us to do the like, bearing with pati
ence all temporal pains whatfoever, with the confideration.
of the eternal. From the confideration of little things
(faith he) let us frame a conjecture of the great. If thou
go into a bath, and fhalt find it exceffive hot, think on
"hell; If thou art tormented with the heat, think on hell,
"If thou art tormented with the heat of fome violent fever,
66
6¢
paſs unto the confideration of thofe eternal flames, which
"burn without end: and think that if a bath or calenture
"fo afflict thee, how fhalt thou endure that river of fire."
And further the fame faint (n). When thou shalt fee
any think great in this prefent life, think prefently of the
kingdom of Heaven, and fo thou shalt not value it much;
"and when thou fhalt fee any thing terrible, think on hell,
"and thou wilt laugh at it. When the concupifcence or
"defire of any temporal thing hall afflict thee, think that
"the delight of fin is of no eftimation, and that the plea
"fure of it is nothing. For if the fear of laws, which are
"enacted upon earth, be of that force, that they are able to
"deter us from evil actions, much more will the thought
of things to come, and that immortal chaftifement of
"eternal pain. If the fear of an earthly divert us from
many evils, how much more fhall the fear of a king eter-
"nal?" If the fight of a dead man detain us, much more
(m) Chryfoft. To. 5. Epift. 5. ad Theod.
(n) Homil. 2. in 1. Ep. ad Theff.
fhall
i
1
CA P. XII.
381
the Temporal and Eternal.
fhall the thought of hell and that eternal death. If we often
think of hell, we shall never fall into it.
We ought alſo often to call to mind the evils of the next
life, that we may more defpife the pleaſures of this: becauſe
temporal felicity ufes often to end in eternal mifery. All
that is precious in the world, honour, wealth, fame, plea-
fure, all the fplendor of the earth is but fmoke and a fha-
dow, if we compare the fmall duration of them with the
eternity, of thofe torments in the other world. Put all the
filver in the world together in one heap, all the gold, all the
precious ftones, diamonds, emeralds, with all other the
richest jewels, all the triumphs of Romans, all the dainties of
the Affyrians, &c. all would deferve to be of no other value
than dirt, ignominy and gall, if to be poffeffed with hazard
of falling at laft into the pit of hell. Let us call to mind
that ſentence of our bleffed Saviour: What will it avail a
mon, to gain the whole world, if be lofe bis foul? If they
fhould make us Lords and Maſters, I fay not of great wealth,
but of the whole world, we should not admit of it, with the
leaſt hazard of being damned for ever. Let one enjoy all
the contents and regalo's imaginable, let him be raiſed up
to the higheſt pitch of honour, let him triumph withal the
greatness of the world, All this is but a dream, if after this
mortal life, he finds himself at length plunged into hell fire.
Whofoever ſhould confider the lamentable day, in which
two fons, and three daughters, and his wife the emprefs,
were put to death in the prefence of the emperor Mauritius,
and afterwards himself was bereaved of life, by command
of a daftardly coward and vicious fellow, no doubt but he
would eſteem as very vain, and of no worth, all the twenty
years of his reign in his powerful empire and majesty,
though his puniſhment was not to laft for ever, in regard he
had the good fortune to fave his foul. Wherefore if one
only difaftrous day, after the enjoying of fo much felicity
and greatneſs of the world, for twenty years fpace, is fuffici-
ent to cauſe a contempt of all that pomp, and make the
fame appear as fmoke, not only one year of affliction, not
a thouſand ages, but eternity in torments, how will it make
all humane profperity to feem nothing elfe, but a fhadow
and a dream? If the fad death of one, though he faves his
foul, fnews the vanity of all humane felicities, The lament-
able death of one, who is damned to hell, and an eternity of
unfpeakable mifery, how will it make evident, that all feli
city
!
382
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
city and humane greatness is nothing but a fmake, a fha-
dow, and nothing? Let us reflect a thought upon the em-
peror Heliogabolus, who gave fo great a fcope to all his jen-
fual appetites, and was most exactly induftrious in making
ufe of time, to the advantage of his pleafures, What ac-
count are we to make of his two years and eight months
reign, if we give credit to Aurelius and Eutropius, turning
our confideration to the other ſcene of his miferable death,
For the Pretorian foldiers, having drawn him out of a fink
or privy, where he had hid himſelf, then hauling him upon
the ground, they threw him into another fink, moft fi thy
and abominable; but in regard there was not room enough
for his whole body, they pulled him out again, and drag-
ging him through the great place called Circus, and other
public ſtreets of Rome, at laſt they caft him into the Tiber,
having firſt tied great ftones about him, to the end he might
never appear more, nor obtain interment. All this was
done to the great content of the people, and approbation of
the Senate. Who ſhould ſee this nice and effeminate prince
wallowing in the fink, abuſed by his foldiers, and drowned
in the Tyber, what eſtimate would he frame of all his great-
nefs? But fee him now in the horrid fink of hell, abuſed
by the devils, and plunged into that pit of fire and brim-
flone, where he is to fuffer exceffive torments for all eterni
ty; what will that fhort time of his empire feem, being com-
pared, I do not fay with three hundred thoufand millions.
of years, but with an eternity of pains, which he is to luffer,
caufing all the paft glory of his empire, and fplendor of his
fortunes to vanish into ſmoke? You may look upon a
wheel of fquibs or fire-works, which whilft it moves, cafts
forth a thouſand lights and fplendors, with which the be-
holders are much taken: but all at laſt ends in a little ſmoke
and burned paper. So it is. Whilft the wheel of felicities.
was in motion, according to the file of St. James, that is to
fay, whilſt our life lafts, its fortune and profperity appeared
moft glorious; but ceafing, all comes to end in ſmoke: and
he, that fares beſt in it, becomes a fire-brand of hell. Ra.
banus (o) faid well, that when a ftrong fever, or fome great
unexpected change in his eftate happens to one, it makes
him forget all his former contents in health and wealth: his.
fickneſs and adverfity taking up ſo the whole man, as that
he has no leifure to employ his thoughts upon any thing
(0) Raban. in Eccl.
elle;
A
CAP. XII.
383
the Temporal and Eternal.
elle; and if perhaps any paffage of his former condition,
chance to come to his mind, it gives him no fatisfaction,
but rather augments his pain. Wherefore if even temporal
evils, though very fhort, are fufficient to make former feli-
cities of many years vanish: what impreffion will temporal
goods make in us, if we employ our thoughts upon eternal
evils?
Befides this the eternity of torments in hell, which is to
be fuffered hereafter without profit, may move us to huſband
the fhort time of this life, moft to our advantage, and with
the greateſt fruit. How many miferable fouls now fuffer
thofe eternal pains, for not employing one day in penance,
nor endeavouring to make one good confeffion? What
would a damned foul give for one quarter of an hour, out of
fo many days and years, which are loft, and ſhall not have
one inſtant allowed him? Thou, who now liveſt, and haſt
time, loſe not that which imports fo much, and once loft,
can never be redeemed. Peter Reginaldus writes, that an
holy religious man, being in prayer, heard a moft lament-
able voices whereupon demanding, Who he was, and why
he lamented; it was answered, I am one of the damned.
And thou muſt know, That I and the reft of the damned
fouls, lament and bewail nothing more bitterly, than to have
loft time in the fins we have committed. Omiferable crea-
tures, who for having loſt a ſhort ſpace of time, loſe an eter-
nity of felicity! They come to know too late the importance
of that which they have loft, and ſhall never come to regain
it. Let us now make uſe of time, whilft we may gain eter-
nity; and let us not lofe that with pleaſure, which cannot
be recovered with grief. Let us now weep for our fins with
profit, that we may not weep for our pains without fruit.
Let us hear what St. Bernard (p) fays; "Who fhall give
water unto my head, and who ſhall give a fountain of
tears unto mine eyes, that I may prevent weeping by
weeping?" Let us now weep in time, and do penance
with forrow, that our tears may be dried up, and our forrow
forgotten, fince eternal happinefs is no lefs efficacious, to
make us forget the tears and grief of this life, than hell the
pleaſures of it. Wherefore Ifaias faith, My former cares are
forgotten, and are bid from mine eyes. Upon which words
St. Jerome gloffes. "It is the effect of mirth, and confef-
"fion of the true God, that an eternal oblivion fhall fuc-
** ceed
.66
[(p) Bernard. Serm. 16. in Cant-
384
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
"ceed precedent griefs. For if former evils fhall be for-
gotten, it is not with the oblivion of memory, but with
"the fucceffion of fo much good, according to that, In
"the good day an oblivion of evil." Laftly, let us draw
from the confideration of hell, a perfe& hatred to all mor-
tal fin, fince from the evil of fin, proceeds that evil of pain.
Terrible is the evil of fin, fince it cannot be fatisfied even
with eternal flames. But this requires a larger confideration,
which we are now come unto.
CA P. XIII.
The infinite guilt of mortal Sin, by which we lose the felicity
of Heaven, and fall into eternal Evils.
Be.
THE horrible and ftupendous malice of mortal fin, is
fo foul and accurfed, that though committed in an in-
ftant, it deferves the torments of hell for all eternity; and
an unlawful pleaſure, enjoyed by a finner, but for one mo
ment, deprives and difinherits him of eternal felicity.
cauſe therefore the ſcope of this work, is to beget fuch diſeſ-
teem of temporal goods, as for them we may not lose the
eternal, I thought it not befides my purpofe to procure, as
much as I could, a horror and detestation of fin, which is
the occafion of the lofs of heaven: and therefore intend in
this place, to fay fomething of the malice of it, the rather,
becauſe it conduces much to the knowledge of thofe differ-
ences, which are betwixt things temporal, and things eter-
nal; Whereof the most notable is, that as temporal goods.
are of that nature, that he who loves and feeks them with
follicitude, moſt commonly falls into that horrible evil of
fin: So he who loves, and fets his heart on things eternal,
fecures himſelf against it. Befides, having treated of the
eternal pains of hell, that we may not wonder at the feverity
of the Divine-jaftice, it was neceffary, that we fhould fay
fomething of the horrible and grievous malice of fin, for
which fo infinite a punifliment is inflicted. Many admire,
that a fin committed in an inftant, ſhould deferve the eter
mal puniſhment of fo terrible and cruel torments. But this
proceeds from their ignorance; becauſe they know not the
malice
CA P. XIII.
the Temporal and Eternal.
385
malice of a mortal fin. St. Aufline, whofe deep underſtand-
ing was enlightened, by an eſpecial grace, wondered rather,
that there were not two hells, and that a new one was not
created for that chriſtian, who durft offend his God, after he
was incarnated for his redemption. And Divines generally
affirm, that the chaftifement of fin in hell, is much less than
it deſerves. Who will not then admire this monſter of mif-
chief, that being but one evil, draws after it fo many, and
that one fin ſhould deſerve ſo many punishments, and yet
have a malice capable of more?
A terrible cafe, that for a fin, which paft only in thought,
which none knew but God, and he who committed it, and
perhaps not he neither, as being uncertain and doubtful of
his own confent, and which endured no longer than an in-
ftant, fhould yet be puniſhed with fo real and eternal pains.
The reafon is, That fuch is the intention of malice in fin,
that it is equivalent to the extenfion of an infinite evil. The
puniſhment and the fin, are like the fhadow and the body;
The fin is the body, and the folid evil, The punishment but-
as the fhadow. And in the reaſon of a true and real evil,
the fin as far exceeds the punishment of hell-fire, as a man
exceeds his ſhadow. For as that is truly and really a man,
and this but a man in appearance: fo fin is truly an evil,
the pain only appears fo, but is in truth a good, being an
act of juſtice cauſed by God, who can cauſe no evil. Hence
you may trace the malignity of a fin, in compariſon where-
of, the pains of hell, although fo terrible, are not evils, but
their fhadow; and may alfo learn, that the commiffion of
a mortal fin, is as much to be feared above the pains of eter
nity, as a real fword before its fhadow. The fword kills,
the fhadow at moſt can but fright. So a mortal fin is that,
which takes away the life of the foul: the pains can only
frighten us but without fin, the torments of hell, are not
of power to kill or hurt us. See then what a fool thou art,
if to avoid fome temporal evil, thou prefumeft to commit a
mortal fin, which is as great a folly, as to fly from the fha-
dow of a ſword, and run thyſelf upon the point.
:
It is true, that fin is really an evil, and the eternal fire of
hell, in compariſon of it but a fhadow; but by this fhadow,
we may judge the greatness of the fubftance, and by the
terriblenefs of the punishment, the grievoufnefs of the fin.
For as by the fhadow, we know the bulk of the body, al-
though we ſee it not fo by the pains of hell, we conjecture
Ссс
the
386
LIB. IV
The Difference betwixt
What
the malice and enormity of fin, which appears not.
would we fay of a body, which, the fun being at mid-day,
and in his height, fhould caſt a ſhadow of an infinite exten-
fion? This could not be, unlefs the height of that body
fhould rife unto the fphere of the fun, and being placed op
pofite unto it, fhould thence produce fo vaft a fhadow. In
this manner, fin caufeth a pain of infinite extenfion, becauſe
the intenfion of its malice reaches fo high, as to oppofe it-
felf unto God, who being the chief good, fin muſt needs
become the chief evil: I fpeak of mortal fin. If we there-
fore tremble at the thought of hell, we may ſhake at that of
fin. Who is not amazed, that God ſhould behold a crea-
ture of his own burning in flames, and fould there leave
him without compaffion for all eternity? But this is not
cauſed by want of goodneſs in God, but by excess of malice
in fin: not becauſe the mercy of God hath limits, but he-
cauſe the wickedness of man hath none. So heinous then
is the offence of a mortal fin, that eternal flames cannot
purge it, nor torments give a greater fatisfaction, than what
is due unto the Divine-juftice. This is that, which the Lord
faid by Ofeas; Ephraim provoked me to wrath in his bitter-
neffes That is, as St. Jerome interprets it, with his wicked-
neſs, he made me bitter and rigorous, who of myſelf was
ſweet and merciful. Such is the grievoufnefs of fin, that it
makes the ſweetneſs, bounty, and divine pity of God, not
to compaffionate that foul, which is in the bitterness of hell.
§. 2.
Sin is then an infinite offence againſt God. Let it not
therefore appear much unto him, who knows the ineffable
greatneſs and perfection of the Divine effence, that thought
committed in an inftant, it fhould deferve an eternity of
puniſhment. For by how much greater is the majefty of
God, which is defpifed, by fo much greater is the injury of-
fered him; and therefore as the majesty of God, which is
deſpiſed by fin, is infinite, fo the defpite of it, muſt contain
in itſelf, a certain kind of infinity. By how much greater
is the reverence due to a perfon, by fo much greater is the
difrefpect and affront offered him; And as to God, there is
due an infinite reverence, fo the injury done him, is of an
inexplicable malice, which with no good works of a pure
creature, how many and great foever, can be expiated -
"" So
CAP. XIII.
387
the Temporal and Eternal.
હું
66
•
tr
<<
"So great (faith a grave doctor) (q) is the malignity of a
mortal fin, that being put in the ballance of Divine-jul-
tice, it would out-weigh all the good works of all the
faints, although they were a thousand times more, and
greater than they are. Which confideration, although
"moft fearful, yet it ought not to feem incredible: becauſe
"the good works, with which God is honoured by his
faints, although confidered in themſelves, they are of
great value, and by his grace, worthy of eternal life, yet
in refpe&t of God, unto whom they add nothing, and
"who is nothing better by them, they are not valuable:
Unto whofe Divine-goodnefs, not only they, but infinite-
ly more and greater, are but a debt. But for God to be
deſpiſed by his creature, who by infinite titles, is obliged
"to ferve him, and who ought to bear him (if he could)
an infinite love, and reverence him with an infinite ho-
nour, is a thing to highly repugnant to his majeſty and
"benefits, that he apprehends it more in the nature of evil,
than all the good works of the world, in the nature of
good and if God were capable of grief, would more af-
"flict him, than all the pious actions of the faints content
"him." Certainly amongst men, the honour which is
given to one, who deferves it, takes not fo much as a con-
tempt done unto him, who merits it not. A king values
not much the honour which is given him by his vaffals, be-
cauſe he takes it not for a courteſy, but a duty; but to be
out-raged and fcorned by one, eſpecially whom he had fa-
voured with his benefits, ticks near unto his heart; for not
only kings, but all men think honour due unto them, and
ditrefpe&t an injury. And as fire being inordinately applied
to the hand, makes it fenfible of a greater grief than it can
receive delight by being found, becauſe exceffive heat is re-
pugnant, and a natural temper due unto it: fo dif-refpe&s
and affronts offered to a noble perfonage, which are repug-
nant to his worth, grieve him more, than he can be pleafed
with all the honours and refpe&ts due unto him. There is
no refentment among men fo quick, as that of difhonour,
nor any thing which caufes more grief and vexation. If
fome perfon of qualty, fhould have his hat plucked off from
his head in fcorn, and receive a dozen of baftinadoes from
fome baſe fellow, that affront would not be recompenfed,
although a thousand fhould put off their caps to him, and
(q) Leff. de porfèc, divi. li. 13. cap. 16. nu. 187.
kils
!
388
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
kifs his hand. By this may in fome fort appear the ftupen-
dous irreverence, and incivility towards God in a mortal
fin; infomuch as St. Paul calls it kicking, or ſpurning the
Son of God. And therefore it is no marvel, if one only
grievous offence over-weigh all the fervice and honours
done by the faints and holy angels, and that all that they
have, or can do, cannot in rigor, fatisfy for one mortal fin.
This is the reaſon why it was neceffary, that God ſhould
become man, being the Divine-juftice could not be appeaf
ed, with leſs than the fatisfaction of a divine perfon. Let
thoſe therefore ceafe to marvel, that a momentary fin fhould
be puniſhed with eternal torments, who fee that for fin, God
was made man, and died for man. And certainly it is a far
greater wonder, that God fhould die for the fin of another,
than that man fhould for his own fin, fuffer an eternal
puniſhment. And if the malice of fin be fo exorbitant,
that nothing could fatisfy for it lefs than God, it is nothing
ftrange, than that, which hath no limit, nor bound in evil,
fhould have no limit in puniſhment, but fhould exceed all
time, and be eternal. And if a treaſon committed againſt
a temporal prince, be chaftifed with lofs of life, and goods
of the traytor, and with the puntſhment alſo of his pofteri-
ty, which, in as much as concerns the prince, is eternal:
Why should not the offence of a vile worm against his Cre-
ator, be tormented with general pains? The greatness of
honour decreaſes and grows lefs, according to the height
and dignity of the perfon honoured, fo as that honour,
which done to an ordinary perfon, would ſeem exceffive,
given unto a prince is nothing. And to the contrary, the
greatness of an injury rifes, and grows higher faccording to
the worth of him who is injured: fo as God, who is infi-
nite, being the perfon offended, deferves that the injury
done unto him, fhould be chaftifed with an infinite punish-
ment at leaſt in time, or that he, who fatisfies for it, fhould
be a perfon of infinite worth and perfection.
*
From hence it follows, that the guilt of mortal fin being
fo horrid, there can be no fatisfaction of a pure creature fuf-
ficient to expiate it, nor any merit, which can deferve the
pardon. Let us grant, that Adam had never offended, nor
contaminated the whole race of mankind with his fin. Let
us grant, that there had never been a fin of David, St.
Paul, St. Auftine, St. Mary Magdalene, or any other man,
or angel whatsoever, and that there had been, but one only
mortal
CA P. XIII.
369
the Temporal and Eternal.
mortal fin, the leaſt of all others, committed by a man in a
wilderneſs without witnefs, by night, and that only in
thought; yet fuch were the grievoufnefs of this one fin,
that for it no puniſhment of the creatures were fufficient to
fatisfy the Divine-juſtice. If God ſhould ruin Heaven,
throw down the ſtars, dry up the fea, confound the ele-
ments, and ſtrike whole mankind with thunder, all would
not give an equal fatisfaction to the Divine-juftice for this
one fin. For this deftructionof heaven and earth, and man
were but of things finite and limited, and the injured per-
fon is God, who is infinite, and betwixt finite and infinite,
there is no proportion. In like manner, no merit of meer
creatures, were fufficient to deferve pardon for it. If all
mankind fhould cloath themfelves in fack-cloth, and faft
with bread and water. If all the Martyrs fhould offer up
their torments, and all the Confeffors their penances, and
the very Mother of God, all her virtues, and ſhould diffolve
herſelf into tears, all were not enough to deferve the pardon
of that one fin; Only the Son of God could be fufficient
fatisfaction. Let men confider this; let them weigh the
grievoufneſs of a fin againſt God, and let them tremble at
the very thought, that poffibly they may commit it.
§. 3.
The offence, which is done to God Almighty, by a mor-
tal fin, is in itſelf, and its own ſubſtance moſt grievous, as
we have already obferved; yet there are certain circumftan-
ces, which do much encreaſe the good or evil of that action,
whereunto they are annexed: And that of fin, is ſo accurſed
and abominable on all parts, that not one or two, but all cir-
cumflances joined together, concur to make the infolence
and malice of it moſt inſupportable. We will therefore con-
fider them one by one. Tully (r), whom St. Thomas, and
the rest of Divines follow, makes them ſeven, which contri-
bute much to the qualification of a moral action. The first,
Who it is that doth it; The fecond, What it is he doth;
The third, Where he does it; The fourth, With what
helps; The fifth, Wherefore; The fixth, After what man-
ner; and the feventh, When he does it. Unto theſe feven,
Ariftotle (s) adds another, About what it is. Theſe circum-
(r) Tull. in Rheto. St. Tho. 1. 2. q. 7. ar. 3.
(s) Ariftot. Eth. 3.
Rances
390
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
ftances are in abfolute actions, which have no relation to
another. For in actions, which have a refpect to a third
perfon, another circumftance ought much to be confidered;
which is, Against whom it is. Let us now tee how in all
thoſe circumstances, fin is most abominable and accurfed.
For if we confider who it is that fins, it is a molt vile and
wretched man, who prefumes to lift up his hands against his
Creator. And what is man but a veffèl of dung, a fink of
corruption, and by birth a flave of the devil? and yet he
dares offend his maker. An offence againſt God were mult
grievous, though from another God (if it were pollible) in-
finite and equal to himself; but that his creature should be lo
audacious against his omnipotent Lord, is beyond amaze-
ment.
But what is that, which a finner does, when he offendst
It is, according to St. Anfelme, an endeavour to pluck the
crown from the head of God, and place it upon his own.
It is, according to St. Bernard, to defire to murther his God.
It is, according to the Apolle St. Paul, to kick and ſpurn
againſt the Son of God. It is to crucify again the Lord of
life. If any of theſe things were attempted against a majesty
upon earth, it were enough to make the offenders flesh to be
plucked off with pincers, to have him torn in pieces with
four horfes, to pull down his houfe, and fow the place with
ſalt, and make his whole lineage infamous. If fuch an of
fence committed by one man againſt another, betwixt whom
the difference is not great, being both equal in nature, be fo
heinous, what fhall it deferve, being committed against God
the Lord and Creator of all, whofe immenfe greatnefs is in-
finitely diftant, from the nature of his creature? O good
God, who is able to explicate what a finner does agamft
thee and himself? he defpifes thy majefty, raizes out thy
law from his heart, laughs at thy juftice, fcorns thy threats,
deſpiſes thy promifes, makes a folemn renunciation of thy
glory thou haft promifed him, and all to bind himſelf an
eternal flave unto Satan, de firing rather to pleaſe thine ene
my than thee, who art his father, his friend, and all his
good: defiring rather to die eternally by difpleafing thee,
than to enjoy heaven for ever by ſerving thee.
Let us now fee where, and in what place a finner pre-
fumes to fin, and be a traitor unto his God. It is even in
his own world, in his own houſe, and knowing that his
Creator looks upon him, he offends him. If a fin were
commited
CAP. XIII.
391
the Temporal and Eternal.
committed where God could not fee it, it were yet an enor-
mous fault; but to injure his Creator before his face, what
an unſpeakable impudence? If he who fins could go into
another world, where God did not inhabit, and there in fe-
cret under the earth, fhould fin after ſuch a manner, as only
himſelf ſhould know it, yet it were a temerarious boldneſs:
but to fin in his own houſe, which is his world, what hell
doth it not deferve? For a man only to lay his hand upon
his fword, in the palace of a king is capital, and deſerves
death. For a finner then by his fins, to fpurn and crucify
the Son of God, in the houſe of his Father, and before his
face, what understanding can conceive the greatneſs of ſuch
a malice? And therefore David with reafon, diffolved him-
felf into tears, becauſe he had finned in the prefence of God,
and with a grief, which pierced his heart, cried out, I have
done evil before thee. Befides this, we not only fini against
God in his own houſe, but even in his arms, whilft we are
upheld by his omnipotency. If there were a fon fo wicked,
who whilſt he was cheriſhed in his mother's bofom, ſhould
ftrike and buffet her, and endeavour to kill her with his
poniard, every one would think that child fome devil incar-
nate. How then dares man offend God, who fuftains, pre-
ferves, and hath redeemed him? Certainly that chriftian
ought to be eſteemed worſe than a devil.
The heinoufnefs of this malice in fin, is much augment-
ed by the helps which a finner uſes to effect it. For he turns
thofe very divine benefits, which he hath received from God
against him, who gave them. The fenfe which men ufu-
ally have of ingratitude, is most apprehenfive. If to forget
a benefit be ingratitude, to deſpiſe it is an injury: but to
ufe it against the benefactor, I know not how to call it.
This does he who fins, making ufe of thoſe creatures which
God created for his fervice, to offend him, and convert his
divine benefits, into arms againſt God himſelf. What could
we fay, if a king to honour his foldier, fhould make him a
knight, arm him with his own arms, and fhould girt his
fword about him with his own hands, and that the foldier,
fo foon as he was poffeffed of the fword, fhould draw it
againſt the king, and murther him? This wickedneſs, which
feems impoffible amongſt men, is ordinary in man towards
God, who being honoured fo many ways by his Creator,
and enriched by fo many benefits, for as much as in him
lies, bereaves God of his honour, and, according to St. Ber-
nard
1
392
The Difference betwixt
LIB. IV
nard, defires to bereave him of his life. His underſtanding,
which he received from God, he ufes in finding out a way
to execute his fin; with his hands he performs it, and with
all his power offends him who gave them. Beſides, the im-
pudence of man arrives at that height, that he makes God
himſelf affift him to fin. This is that, which our Lord much
complains of, when he fays by his Prophet, You made me
ferve you in your wickedness; becauſe God concurring to
every action and natural motion of man, who without his
concurrence could neither move hand nor foot, nor tongue,
man difpofing his tongue to murmur, and his hand to ſteal,
makes ufe of the concourfe of God, against God himself.
Who is fo pitilefs and inhumane, to enforce the Father to
affift in the murther of his only Son, compelling the Father's
hand to execute the ftroke, which is to pierce the heart of
his only begotten? Equivalent to this is done by a finner,
making God to concur to an action, by which man finning,
crucifies again the Son of God. What cruelty is this in
a finner, who for this only impiety, deferves a thouſand
deaths?
But if we fhall confider, Why man does this: it is a cir-
cumſtance which will amaze us at the malice of fin. Why
does a finner give this difguft unto his God? Wherefore
does he deſpiſe his Creator? Wherefore is he a traitor unto
the Lord of the world? Wherefore does he kick and ſpurn
at Jefus Chrift? Wherefore does he abhor his Redeemer ?
Wherefore crucifies he the Son of God? What reaſon hath
he for fo monstrous a wickedness? Is it perchance, becauſe
the world ſhould not be ruined? Is it perchance, becauſe his
falvation ſtands upon it? Is it perhaps, to make himself a
God Is it perhaps, in reſpect, or for love of another God?
No, it is none of thefe, but only for a bale and filthy plea-
fure, for a fooliſh fancy of man, becauſe he will, and no
more. O horrid infolence! O mad fury of men, which
without a cauſe fo grievoufly offend their Creator! How is
it, that the heavens refolve not into thunder-bolts, and
throw a thouſand deaths upon them, who do and dare, by
their fins, irritate and offend fo good and gracious a God?
The manner alſo of our finning, would aſtoniſh any who
ſhould ſeriouſly confider it. It is with fo much impudence,
contempt of God, and fuch a Luciferian pride: After hav-
ing heard fo many examples of his chaftifements executed
upon finners, After having feen that the most beautiful and
glorious
CA P. XIII.
393
the Temporal and Eternal.
glorious of all the angels, and with him innumerable others,
were thrown from Heaven, and made fire-brands in Hell
for one fin, and that only in thought, After having feen the
firſt man, for one fin of gluttony, banished from the paradiſe.
of pleaſure, into this valley of tears, defpoiled of ſo many
fupernatural endowments, and condemned to death, After
having feen the world drowned, and the cities of Pentapolis
burned with fire from Heaven, After having feen thofe fe-
ditious againſt Mofes, fwallowed by the earth, and with their
children, goods and family fink alive into Hell, After hav-
ing known that fo many have been damned for their offen-
ces, After that the Son of God, had ſuffered upon the Crofs
for our fins, After all this to fin, is an impudence never
heard of, and an intolerable contempt of the Divine-juſtice.
Befides, what greater fcorn and contempt of God than this,
that God, who is worthy of all honour and love, and the
Devil, who is our profeffed enemy, pretending both to our
fouls, the one to ſave them, the other to torment them in
eternal flames, yet we adhere to Satan, and prefer him be-
fore Chriſt our Saviour and Redeemer, and that fo much to
our prejudice, as by the lofs of eternal glory, and captivating
ourſelves unto eternal torments and flavery? No way of in-
juring, can be imagined more injurious, than when by the
interpofing of fome other vile and infamous, he, who is wor-
thy of all love and honour, is put by and flighted. The
manner alſo of finning aggravates the fin, as the finner doth
by lofing thereby eternal goods. Though he, who finneth,
loft nothing, yet the offence against God were great, and
the affront to reafon itſelf not inconfiderable. But well
knowing the great damages, and puniſhments likewiſe that
attend fin, and the evident hazard he runs, and yet to fin,
is a ſtrange temerity and impudency.
If we shall likewife confider, When it is that we fin, we
ſhall find this circumſtance no lefs to aggravate our offences,
than the former; Becauſe we now fin, When we have ſeen
the Son of God nailed unto the Crofs, that we should not
fin: When we have ſeen God fo fweet unto us, as to be in-
carnate for our good, humbling himself to be made man,
and ſubjecting himſelf to death, even the death of the Crofs
for our redemption: having inftituted the holy facraments,
for a remedy againſt fin, eſpecially that of his moſt holy bo-
dy and blood, which was a moft immenfe expreffion of his
love. To fin after we had ſeen God fo good unto us, fo
Ddd
obliging
394
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
obliging unto us, with those not to be imagined favours, is
a circumstance which ought much to be pondered in our
hearts, and might make us forbear the offending of fo loving
a Lord. And that chriftian who fins after all this, is to be
eſteemed worse than a devil. For the devil never finned
againſt that God, who had fhed his blood for him, or who
had been made an angel for him, or who had pardoned fo
much as one fin of his. When thoſe finned, who were un-
der the law of nature, they alſo had not feen the Son of
God die for their falvation, as a chriflian hath; for which,
as St. Aufline fays, There ought a new Hell to be made for
him. And there is no doubt, but chriftians will deferve new
torments, and greater than thofe, who have not had the
knowledge of God, nor received fo many benefits from him.
This is confirmed by what is written of St. Macarius the
Abbot, who finding in the defert a dead man's head, and
removing it with his ftaff out of the way, it began to fpeak,
which he hearing, demanded, Who it was. It anſwered, I
am a Prieſt of the Gentiles, which heretofore dwelt in this
place, and am now together with many of them, in the mid-
dle of a burning fire, fo great, that the flames encompass us
both above and beneath. And is there, replied the faint,
any place of greater torment? Yes, faid the dead; greater
is that, which they fuffer who are below us. For we, who
know not God, are not fo feverely dealt with, as thoſe who
knowing have denied him, or not complied with his holy
will. Theſe are below us, and fuffer far greater torments
than we.
Theſe are the circumftances obferved by Tully, and are
all found to aggravate the guilt of our fins. Neither is that,
added by Ariftotle, wanting; which is, About what. About
what do we offend God? About what happens this great
preſumption, but about things which import not, but rather
endamage us; About complying with a fenfual guft, which
in the end bereaves us of health, of honour, of ſubſtance,
and even of pleaſure itſelf, fuffering many days of grief for
a moment of delight; About things of the earth, which are
vile and tranfitory and about goods of the world, which
are falſe, ſhort and deceitul. What would we lay, if for a
thing of ſo ſmall value as a ſtraw, one man fhould kill ano-
ther? No more than a flaw are all the felicities of the world
in respect of thoſe in heaven; and for a thing of ſo ſmall
confiderations, we are traitors to God, and crucify Chrift a-
gam,
i
CA P. XIII.
395
the Temporal and Eternal.
gain, and that a thousand times, as often as we fin mortally
against him.
I
Lastly, Against whom we offend much aggravates our
fins. For befides that God is most perfect, most wife, beau-
tiful, immenfe, omnipotent, infinitive, we fin against him,
who infinitely loves us, who fuffers us, who heaps his bene-
fus
s and rewards upon us. To do evil to thofe, who make
much of them, even wild beaſts abhor it. What is it then
for thee to injure him, who loved thee more than himſelf:
who hath done thee all good, that thou ſhouldeſt do no evil?
Fear then this Lord, reverence his Majesty, love his good-
nefs, and offend him no more. This only confideration,
To have finned against fo good a God, was fo grievous un-
to David, that in his penitential Pfalms, he exclaims with
tears, and cries out from the bottom of his heart, Againft
thee only have I finned. For although he had finned against
Urias, and againſt all Ifrael by his ill example, yet it leem-
ed unto him, he had only finned againſt God, when he con-
fidered the infinity of his being, the immenſeneſs of that
love, which he had fo grievously offended. Sin then is on
all parts moſt virulent, on all parts fpits forth venom. Be-
hold it on every fide, it fill ſeems worse; for being the
chiefeft evil, it can on no part appear good all is mon-
ftrous, all pollon, all deteſtable, all moſt evil, and therefore
deferves allevil. And it is not much, that that fhould be
chaftifed with eternal torments, which oppoles itſelf unto the
Tweetness of an infinite holiness.
•
A
§. 4.
Sin to evil, that it is every way evil. It is not only
evil as it is an mjury to God, but it is evil in itſelf in its own
nature. For if there were no God, or that God were not
ontended with it, yet it were a moſt abominable and horrid
vil, the greatest of all evils, and the caufe of all. In regard
of this deformity and filthinefs of fin, the philofophers judged
it to be abhorred above all things. Ariftotle (t) faid, it were
better to die, than to do any thing against the good of vir-
rue. And Seneca and Peregrinus with more refolution faid
Although were certain that men fhould not know it, and
that God would pardon it, yet I would not offend for the
very filthinefs of fin. For this Tully faid,. That nothing
(1) Aristot. 3. Est.
could
¿
396
LIB. IV
The Difference betwixt
And
could happen unto man more horrible than a fault.
even thoſe philofophers, who denied the immortality of the
foul, and the providence of God, affirmed, that nothing
fhould make us to commit it. And there hath not wanted
fome Gentiles, who have fuffered great extremities to avoid
a vicious act. Democles, as Plutarch (u) writes, chofe ra-
ther to be boiled in fcalding water, than to confent to a fil-
thy act. With reafon Hippe is celebrated amongſt the Greek
Matrons, who choſe rather to die than offend. Neither was
that horror leſs, which Verturius conceived againſt unclean-
nefs, who fuffered prifon, whips, and rigorous torments, ra-
ther than he would fin against chastity. Equal to this, was
that of the most beautiful youth Efpurina, of whom Valerius
Maximus, and St. Ambrofe (x) write, That he flaſhed and
wounded his hair-face, that it fhould not give occafion to
others of offence even by defire. All those were Gentiles,
who knew not Chrift crucified for man, nor faw hell open
for the punishment of finners, nor fled from fin, becauſe it
was an offence unto God, but only for the enormity and fil-
thineſs it had in itſelf. This made them endure prifons and
tortures rather than admit it. What then ſhould chriſtians
do, who know their Redeemer died, to the end they ſhould
not fin, and how much fin is offenfive to God? Certainly,
they ought rather to give a thouſand lives and fouls, than
once to injure their Creator by committing an offence,
which not only Gentiles, but even nature hath in horror,
which hath planted in brute beafts, although they cannot
fin, yet a natural averfion from that which looks like fin.
Jobs Marquefs of Gratts, defired much to have a Foal from
a generous Mare, which he had, by her own fon: but could
never effect it; neither would ſhe ever admit him, until de-
ceived by cloathing him in fuch fort, as the knew him not.
But when he was uncloathed, and ſhe diſcovered the deceit,
ſhe fell into that forrow and fadnels, that after ſhe would ne-
ver feed, but pined herfelt to death. The like is reported
by Jovianus Pontanus, of a delicate Bitch of his, which he
could never (although he cauted her to be held) make to
couple with her fon. So foul and horrible is but the fhadow
and image of fin, even unto brute beafts. Why fhould not
men then, who are capable of reaſon, and have an obligati-
on unto God's commandments, lay and think with St. An-
Selme,
(u) Plut. in Demetrio.
(x) Amb. 1. 3. de Virg.
CAP. XIII.
397
the Temporal and Eternal.
66
<<
Telme (y), "If I fhould fee on this part the filthiness of
fin, and on the other the terror of hell, and it were necef-
"fary for me to fall into one of them, I would rather caſt
myſelf into hell, than admit of fin: For I had rather en-
ter pure into hell, than to enjoy the kingdom of heaven
❝ contaminated with fin." Whofoever then he be, who is
infected with that horrible evil of a mortal fin, he cannot
chuſe but be moſt miſerable and wretched. For, as St.
Chryfoftome (z) fays, The greatest evil is to be evil. And
although the chirurgeon do not cut the cankered flesh, yet
the ulcerated patient will not be freed from his infirmity. So
although God fhould not puniſh a finner, yet he would not
be free from the evil, death, mifery, and abomination of fin.
And therefore St. Auſtine (a) fays; Although we could cauſe
that the day of judgment fhould not come, yet we ought
not to live ill. This monstrous deformity of fin, our Lord
was pleaſed to exprefs by a vifible monſter, and that after a
moſt frange manner, as is related by Villaveus (b). He
writes, that in the year 1298. Caffanus king of the Tartars,
with an army of 200600 horſe entering Syria, made himſelf
mafter of it, and brought a great terror upon all thofe neigh-
bouring countries; infomuch as the king of Amenia delive-
red him his daughter, although the were a chriſtian, and
he an infidel, to be his wife. Not long after the Queen
proved with child; and, when her time came, was deliver-
ed, not of a child, but of a moſt horrible and deformed
monſter. Whereat the barbarous king being aftonished and
incented, by the advice of his council, commanded that ſhe
ſhould be put to death as an adulterefs. The poor lady
grieving to die with the imputation of a fin, whereof the
was innocent, commended herſelf to our Saviour, and by
divine inſpiration defired that before her death, the thing
which he had brought forth, might be baptized: which was
granted; and no fooner performed, but that monſter be-
came a moſt beautiful and goodly boy; and the king ama-
zed at the miracle, with many other of his fubjects, became
chriftians, acknowledging by what had happened the beauty
of grace, and the deformity of fin, although the deformity
proceeded not from any actual fin, either mortal or venial,
from which the child was free, but only from original guilt,
(y) Lib. de fimil. c. 19.
(z) Chryfoft. Tom. 5. Ser. 5. de ie.
(a) Aug. To. 8. in Pf. 49.
(b) Villaveus lib. 8. c. 35.
which
398
LIB. IV.
The Difference betwixt
which without the fault of his proper will, defcended unto
him from his parents. The deformity of fin comes from the
contrariety of it to reafon, which renders a finner more foul
and ugly than the most horrid moniter, and more dead in
foul, than a putrid and dead carcals. Pliny admires the
force of lightnings, which melts the gold and filver, and
leaves the purfe which contained it, untouched. Such is fin,
which kills the foul, and leaves the body found and entire.
It is a flash of lightning fent from hell, and worse than hell
itſelf, and fuch leaves the foul, which it hath blasted.
Q
What fhall I then fay of the evils which it caufes? I will
only ſay this, that though it were the beft thing of the world,
yet for the evil effects which it produces, it ought to be
avoided more than death. It bereaves the foul of grace,
banishes the Holy Ghoft, deprives it of the right of heaven,
defpoils man of all his merits, makes him unworthy of di
vine protection, and condemns a finner unto eternal tor-
ments in the other world, and in this to many dilafters; for
there is neither plague, war, famine, nor infirmity of body,
whereof fin hath not been in fome fort the occafion; and
therefore thofe who weep for their afflictions, let them
change the object of their tears, and weep for the caufe,
which is their fins. Theſe are they, which ought to be la-
mented, theſe only deferve our tears: and all the tears in
the world, are not fufficient to bewail the least of them.
When our Saviour was led to be crucified, he commanded
they should not weep for him, but for their fons, Thofe fons
are our fins engendered from our corrupt nature: let us
weep
for them. Finally, fuch is the malice of a mortal fin,
that he who commits it, deferves the eternal pains of Hell;
and we ought rather to fuffer a thoufand Hells, than once
to commit it.
The love of things temporal opens the way to this mon-
fter of malice, and the defire of things eternal thuts it up.
Let every one therefore confider where he places bis affecti-
ons. Let him hear Ecclefiafticus, who fays, "The heart
❝of a wife-man is in his right-hand, and the heart of a
"fool in his left;" becauſe the wife man places his affecti-
on in that which is eternal, and the fool in that which is
temporal, as St. Jerome interprets it, who fays, "He, who
"is wife, ever thinks of the world to come, which leads
"him to the right-hand; and he, who is a fool, thinks
"only of the prefent, which is placed on the left." How
deceived
!
CAP. XIII.
399
the Temporal and Eternal.
deceived fhall the lovers of the world find themfelves, when
they fhall fee, that for their fins, they are placed on the left-
hand of the Son of God, Judge of the quick and the dead?
and how ſhall the lovers of heaven rejoice, to be placed on
his right, as heirs of eternal glory? Abundance and profpe-
rity in temporal goods, uſed to be a greater occafion of fin,
than either a moderate fortune, or an abfolute poverty.
Wherefore Chrift our Redeemer counfelled them, who de-
fired to follow him in perfection, that they fhould pluck from
their hearts all affections, which either had, or might be oc-
cafion of fin. When the Machabees recovered Jerufalem,
and entering into the temple, found the altar of Holocauft's
prophaned, there was a great doubt amongst them whether
they ſhould use it, becauſe it had been fometimes dedicated
to God, or destroy it, becauſe it had been employed in the
fervice of the devil. The fcripture fays, That a good coun-
fel came into their thoughts, which was to destroy it, and
makc a new one. This good counfel let us follow; let us
deſtroy what hath, or may be an occaſion of fin; and if the
Machabees plucked down that, which had been dedicated to
God, becauſe it had been a means for others to fin, let us
quit the occafion, wherein not others, but we ourſelves have
offended, which is our affections to temporal goods, and
fettle them upon the eternal.
THE
:
ॐॐ
46
THE FIFTH BOOK
OF THE
DIFFERENCE
BETWIXT THE
TEMPORAL and ETERNAL.
CA P. I.
Notable differences betwixt the Temporal and Eternal, the one
being the End, the other the Means. Where is alſo treated
of the End, for which Man was created.
H
ITHERTO we have ſpoken of the difference and
diſtance, betwixt the Temporal and the Eternal,
comparing the one with the other, and confidering
them rather in their proper nature and fubftance, than the
exterior refpe&s and relations, which they have unto others.
We will now begin to confider them from thence alſo, that
it may appear, that the things of the earth (on what fide fo
ever you look upon them) are moſt vile and deſpicable, but
the eternal of great worth and value. There are many
things, which, although in themſelves, they are held as vile
and fordid, yet for fome refpe&t or circumſtance, become of
great eſteem. But things temporal, as well in their own
proper effence and being, as in the extrinsical relations and
refpe&ts they have unto others, as they are amongst angels
moſt contemptible, fo ought they to be amongst men, be-
cauſe really, and in themſelves they are fo. Vile and baſe
they
CAP. I.
401
the Temporal and Eternal.
they are, becauſe little, mutable and tranfitory. And al-
though in their own nature, they were most precious and
eternal, yet with us, they ought to be of no value, becauſe
they are our means, and not our end: created to be our
flaves, and to ferve us, and not adored by us as mafters, be-
cauſe they have been the inftrument of our fins: and be-
cauſe the Son of God defcended from Heaven, and died,
that we might defpife them. These circumstances, although
they were in themfelves of worth and value, yet unto us,
ought to render them moft odious and contemptible.
Here then is the great difference betwixt the Temporal
and the Eternal, That the one is the end, and the other but
the means; the eternal is the end of man, but of the tem-
poral, man himself is the end. The eternal is man's utmoft
perfection, and his perpetual happiness: the temporal only
to be made ufe of, for obtaining the eternal; fo as the eter
nal, being our end, is to be loved and defired for itself, the
temporal to be made no account of, but as it may conduce.
to the obtaining of the eternal. This being a matter of fo
great importance, it is fitting that we feriously confider it.
Open then thine eyes, O man, and reflect wherefore thou
wert born. All things have fome end for which they are,
and thou alſo oughteſt to have one. Thou came not into
the world for nothing for fomething thou wert created.
Open thine eyes, and fee for what, and haying found it,
wander not from it; for if thou doſt, thou art for ever loft.
What traveller fets not before his eyes the place whither he
intends to go and reft? what artificer, who propoſes not un-
to himſelf ſome Idea, which he is to imitate in his work?
Wherefore then doft thou live without thinking, why life
was given thee? Know that thou wert born for God, and
for nothing less than God and his fervice. For this life was
beſtowed upon thee for this thou wert drawn from a not-
being to a being, and didit paſs from nothing to a reaſona-
ble creature, fo many thouſands remaining uncreated, who
would have ſerved God (if they had a being) better than
thyfelf. See then what thou oweft him for this hounty:
wherein are included two moft incomparable benefits; The
one for having created thee, fetting afide fo many worthies
creatures: The other, for having given thee the moſt noble
and excellent end, that poffibly can be imagined, which is
himſelf. When the children of Ifrael paffed the Red-fea,
and Pharaoh and his foldiers were drowned in their purfuit,
E e c
the
401
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
}
the Lord would have them celebrate this great benefit for
ever; and Mofer, and all the people fung praifes and thanks
unto the Lord for their deliverance. See then what thou
oweft unto God, for having past thee from a not-being, un
to a being, an infinity of other creatures, poffible remaining
drowned in the abyfs of nothing. Forget not therefore the
benefit of thy creation, by which from nothing thou beca-
meſt a man, and wert made capable of eternal happineſs.
David forgot it not: and therefore to his 75th Pfalm, gives
this remembrance for a title, For the end, For him who
paffes, or leaps from the other part; becaufe he, who paffes
from nothing, to be a creature capable of reafon and glory,
ought always to look upon the end, for which he was creat-
ed, and from that confideration, to make a change of his
life, as David did of his, who confeffes in the fame Pfalm,
That his change came from the right-hand of the moft high.
Let us then, as he did, remember to change our cuftonis,
from tepid to become fervent, and from finners juft; becaufe
the end, for which we were created, is only God. This
only confideration of fo high an end, will be able to work a
change in us. And for this reaſon, David gave this title to
another Pfalm, To the end; For thofe that are to be changed,
or altered. The holy Prophet well knew, the importance
of this mindfulneſs of our laft end, and therefore he repeat-
ed it in his Pfalms, to the end, that having our attention al-
ways fixed upon it, we ſhould not ceafe to aim at it, nor
ſpoil our intentions, by the mixture of other thoughts of lefs
confideration as he gives to underſtand in the infcription
of his 74th Pfalm, which fays, Unto the end: Corrupt not.
Another verfion fays, To the end: Lofe not; As if he ſhould
fay: Look upon the end, for which thou art created, to the
end thou mayelt not lofe it. Let us alfo confider, that glory
being no ways due unto our nature, yet God out of his mer-
cy created us to enjoy it: and when he might have made us
for a natural felicity and perfection, was pleafed to create us
for a fuper-natural. Other creatures he made for us, but us
for himſelf. There is no creature hath a more noble end
than we; there is neither Seraphin nor Arch-angel that fur-
paffes us in this. Let us therefore know the value of it, that
we may not lofe it, and with it ourſelves.
Confider alfo, that if God ſhould not have made thee for
himſelf, nor to the end thou mightéft ferve him, but had
left thee free and at liberty, and had only given thee a be-
ing,
CAP. L
403
the Temporal and Eternal.
ing, yet even for that thou oweft him all what thou art.
The Son, although the Father be not his end, yet owes him
all reſpect and reverence, becauſe he begat him. The huf-
bandman, who plants a tree, hath right unto the fruit. God
therefore, who created and planted thee, hath right unto
thee, and all that thou art. And if his right be fuch for
making thee, it is no lefs for ordaining thee for himfelf.
There is no dominion fo abfolute (as both Divines and Phil-
ofophers affirm) as that of the end over thofe things, which
are in order to it; infomuch as Marcilius Ficinus (c) fays;
The end is a Lord more excellent than thofe things, which
as fervants and minifters relate unto it. For this reafon man,
although he be neither the Creator, nor utmoſt end of cor-
poral things, yet becaufe he is their immediate end, and
that they were ordained for his ufe, is their Lord and God,
who is the utmoſt end of man and them, is the Lord of all.
Philo calls the end the head of things. For as a prince is
the abfolute head, and Lord of his vaffals and kingdom, fo
the end is Lord and head of thoſe things which have a rela-
tion unto it; and therefore man, who is wholly from God
and for God, ought not to flir a hand or foot, but in order
to his ſervice. One of the philofophers calls the end, The
cauſe of cauſes; another, The principal of all caules. If
therefore unto God, becauſe he is thy efficient caufe, thou
oweit him what thou art, for being thy final cauſe thou ow-
eft him more than thou art. For this obligation looks not
upon that which thou haſt received, which is thy finite and
limited being, but upon that for which thou art ordained,
which is a being divine, infinite, and without limit. Even
God himſelf, as he is the efficient cauſe of things, doth as it
were ſerve himſelf, as he is the chief good and final cauſe of
things, and doth not make them but for this end. What
right then halt thou to work for any thing but God, fince
God doth not, nor will work for any thing but himſelf. The
end is the cauſe of caufes; and therefore if thou owest thy-
felf unto God for being thy maker, thou oweft thyfelf unto
him for being thy end; for he had not been thy maker, if
it had not been for fome end, which was the cauſe of thy
reation.
(c) Mar. Ficinus. 1. 1. Epiſ,
§. 2.
404
LIB. V
The Difference betwixt
§. 2.
Confider the force of the end in the feveral orders of
things natural, artificial and moral, that thou mayeft from
hence gather what force it ought to have in things fuperna.
tural. With what violence do the elements tend unto their
centre, becauſe it is their end? With what force doth a ſtone
fall from high, and with what violence doth it prefs unto its
natural place, and bears down all before it? And the fire,
that it may attain his fphere, how it mounts above the high-
eft hills and rocks? Confider a great flone hung in the air
by fome cable, how it ftrives to get loofe, and being at li-
berty, with what violence it falls upon the earth, with what
fpeed and earnestness, without ftay or diverfion to one part
or other, it tends ftraight to its centre. In this manner thou
oughteft to feek after thy Lord God, with all the powers of
thy foul, with all the forces of thy body, and all the affe&i-
ons of thy heart; all thy inclinations are to tend that way:
thou art to go directly to him, without diverting on either
hand, or looking upon any creature, which may detain thee,
bearing down all things temporal before thee. A ſtone,
that it may attain its end, ſticks not to fall in water, fire, or
to be daſhed in a thousand pieces; and thou, that thou
mayeſt attain thy God, art not to stop at any thing, nor at
the lofs of goods, or honour, or at the very tearing of thy
members in pieces; and, as our Saviour fays, If thy eye
fcandalize thee, pluck it out, or cut off thy foot or hand, if
it offend thee; for it is better to enter into heaven blind or
lame, than to fall into hell-fire found and entire. Things
natural find no quiet, but in their center; and the mariners
needle refts not, but when it beholds the North; no more
fhall the foul ever meet with repofe but in God. And cer-
tainly the cauſe of the greateſt miferies and afflictions in the
world, proceeds from our deviating from God, who is our
only end and eternal happinefs. Let the heart of man there-
fore undeceive itfelf; for it fhall never find quiet and con-
tent, but in its Creator.
If we come to things artificial, Thofe which are not di-
rected to fome end, what are they but a diforderly confufi
on? If a painter fhould draw his lines, without propofing
any idea unto himſelf, what would be the iffue of his work
but a great blot? If in painting fome great captain, he
fhould
CAP. I.
405
the Temporal and Eternal.
fhould instead of a fword, place in his hand a diſtaff, what
a ridiculous figure would he make? If a ftatuary ſhould
give a number of great ftrokes upon a piece of wood, with-
out intention of making an image, he would do nothing
but weary himself, and fpoil the wood and his inftruments.
This thou doft in all thy works, when thou lookeft not upon
God and eternity as thy end; thou doft only make a blot
of thy life, and looſeſt thyself and thoſe creatures, which
thou uſeft otherways than for the obtaining of heaven. God
created thee according to his image, to the end thou ſhould'ſt
perfect that image, and make it every day more like unto
thy Creator. But thou not looking upon him in thy acti-
ons, makeſt thyfelf a monster, and confoundeſt and blotteſt
out his divine image. Finally, as all which is done in art,
without order to the end, is error, ſo all that thou doſt with-
out looking upon God as thy utmoſt end, is confufion and
perdition of thyſelf. Reflect then wherein thou mayeſt at
laft conclude: fince thou haft fo often forgotten God, and
wandered from thy end.
If we look upon moral works or humane actions, when
they are not proportioned to their ends, what are they but
madness and indifcretion? for what is madneſs, but a diver-
fion of things from their end? If one who were defirous to
avoid cold, fhould ftrip himself naked, and fly from the
fire, would not all fay this man were mad? and wherein
confifts his madneſs, but in not fitting things to the end he
aims at. Thou art no wifer thyfelf, if defiring and feeking
thy own good and happinefs, thou flyeft from God, and doſt
not follow him in all thy actions. This as St. Aufiine rotes,
is the error of man, who naturally loving happiness, by
miltaking the way to find it, becomes miferable. Who but
a fool or a mad-man, fit to be bound in chains, having
great thirst, would fill himſelf with falt? and yet all this
folly confifts in nothing, but not proportioning the means
unto their end. He who is dry ought to go to fome foun-
tain, and there to quench his thirst; and man, who defires
to eaſe his heart, is to repair unto God, and there he ſhall
find rest. To divert himself after the creatures, and there
to feed his pleafures, is no other than to eat falt, which en-
creafes his thirst and appetite, and fcorches his entrails. We
are fools therefore in not looking upon God in all our a&ti-
ons, and not ordering them unto him as to our end.
were to be efteemed a fot, who being to light a lamp, would
He
fill
406
I. IB. V.
The Difference betwixt
filli: with water instead of oil, and yet frive and trouble
himſelf to make it burn. Thefe folles we commit every day,
when we use the creatures to other ends than the fervice of
God; fo as they can neither kindle in us the fire of his love,
no fuftain the luftre and dignity of the reafonable foul.
From all then which is Taid it follows, That what is not
adapted to its proper end, is contemptible, monitrous, and
unprofitable. For this reafon David ſaid, All have declined,
that is, All have wandered from their end, which is God,
and are mid: unprofitable. Man therefore, whilt he ferves
not his Creator, is a thing vain and flands for nothing; and
it were much better for him not to be, than not to order
himſelf to his end. The labourer, who hath planted a tree,
to the end it should bring him fruit, if it yield none, plucks
it up by the roots and burns it; And in the goſpel the bar-
ren fig-tree, was commanded to be cut down.
§. 3.
This force of the final caufe is fuch, that things ordering
themſelves unto it, receive a better being, and a more noble
eftimation from their end, how mean foever, than from any
thing they can attain, which is not their end, though never
fo precious. A fpade receives its value from digging the
earth, and for that end, is eſteemed and bought by the la-
bourer; but if you give it a painter to limn with, he will
not allow it a place in his fhop. The fick man, whilſt he is
infirm, will pay any thing for a bitter purge, which being
well he hates. Even veffels for unclean offices, being placed
in corners, are of ule and fought for; but fet upon a cup-
board are a fcorn. So much it imports things to be accom
modated unto their proper end; which how vile and baſe
foever gives them eflimation: but feveral from it, though
they mount unto the clouds, they loofe their value. Mark
then in what condition is that man, who feeks not after God,
and addreffes not his actions unto him, who is fo high an
end. It is alfo to be confidered, That as there is nothing
fo baſe, which being applied unto his proper end, hath not
fome good: ſo there is nothing, how precious foever, which
being diverted from its end, lofes not his worth. He, who
is ready to die for thirst, will efteem a little water out of a
ditch, more than all the treaſures of the world: fo Liſima-
chus valued a jar of water above his kingdom. From whence
15
CAP. I.
the Temporal and Eternal.
407
it follows, that it is the end, which gives things their value
and eſtimation.
Open then thinc eyes, and confider, That thou art not
in the world for nothing: That thou were not created with-
out a wherefore, and for what; thou haft an end, and
oughteft to purfue it: and if thou negle&teft it, thou art
worſe than when thou wert not. Thou haft an end, and
the greatest and most high that can be thought of, which is
the glory of God. Certainly, if God had only created thee
to ferve him, without hope to enjoy him, or ever to attain
unto his glory, yet thou oughteft to have efteemed it highly.
The Queen of Saba (d), when the beheld the greatness,
wiſdom, and Majefty of King Solomon, cried out with won-
der, Bleſſed are thy fervants, which ſtand here in thy pre-
fence. If this wife lady held it for a happineſs to ferve
Solomon, what an honour and felicity is it to ferve God?
But that infinite Goodneſs was not content, that thy end
ſhould be only to ferve, but that thou ſhould pafs fo far as to
enjoy him, and be partaker of his own bleffedneſs. In this
high end, thou art not only equal unto angels, but a fharer
with God, who as he hath no other end or bleſſedneſs bat
himfelf, fo he would not, that thou fhouldeſt have a lefs
end or happiness than thy Creator. Thou wert born them
for a great good, fince thou wert born for the chiefeft good.
Whereupon the maſter of ſentences fays,
"God created
"the rational creature, that he might know the chief good,
"and knowing and loving it, might poffefs it, and poffef-
fing it, enjoy it, God created the elements for thoſe crea-
tures which have life; He created the herbs of the field for
thoſe creatures which have fenfe; Thoſe which have fenfe
for man and man for an end, which ſhould ſurpaſs all, as
being created, not for an end within nature, but for one
above it, a fupernatural and divine end, know therefore
how to eſteem it: and having received fo great an honour,
difgrace not thyfelf by flooping to things of a lower conditi-
،،
on.
Well faid Dionyfius Richell (e): "Since the dignity
"of man is fo great, who is created for fo excellent an end,
"the felicity of angels, and the clear contemplation and
"fruition of his most glorious Creator, Is it not a great in-
gratitude, bafenefs and folly of carnal and wicked men,
to turn from their God, and not regarding fo great hap-
(d) 3 Reg. 10.
pinels,
(e) De Novif. 2. t. 56.
408
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
66
pinefs, to place their felicity in things carnal, tranfitory,
"vain, bafe and unclean, that is, in the delights of the
"flesh, the riches of the world, and in humane praiſe and
"glory? for whofoever fins mortally, prefers the creature
"before the Creator, places his end in a thing frail and
"created, adhering more unto that than his Maker, which
❝ muſt needs be a great injury to God, and a contempt of
"that felicity, for which he created us." Have this ftill
before thine eyes, That thy end is greater than the world,
fince it is God who created the world. Confider that by how
much the honour is greater, to be ordained for ſo excellent
an end, by fo much the ignominy is greater to deflect from
it. Know therefore thine own worth and dignity, and pre-
ferve it, and direct all thy works and actions to fo glorious
a mark; and fince God hath created thee for the fame end
with angels, live like an angel, and endeavour to fill up
their feats, and to be a companion of their glory. It is a great
priviledge of humane nature, that being in fubftance inferior
to that of angels, yet it may equal and excel it in happineſs.
For God, that the angels might attain their end, proporti.
oned his grace conformable unto their natures, giving more
unto the more perfect: but unto men, he gives his grace
without this reftriation; fo as man, if he pleaſe, may be
more than an angel.
The ancient philofophers knew very well, the great im-
portance of the end of man, and were therefore very follici-
tous in finding out what it was, that having once found it,
they might direct the actions of their life unto it. For they
faid, and truly, That all they did was error, if first the end
of man, whereunto humane actions might be addreffed,
were not known 3 And therefore Marcus Aurelius (†) ſaid in
his philofophy, That they doat, who propoſe not unto them-
felves fome mark, whereunto they might addrels all their
thoughts and endeavours. But after that they had once
agreed, that the end of man was to live conformable unto
his nature, which did not many of them then do, to adjuſt
their actions, and obtain it? what excellent leffons and in-
ftructions did they leave us? and although the end of man
in their opinion, did not tranfcend human-nature; yet the
Stoicks and Cynicks forfook honours, wealth and pleaſures,
that they might the better accommodate their lives and ac-
tions unto it living not only without doing ill, but doing
(f) Antonings 1. 2. Philof.
what
CAP. 1.
409
the Temporal and Eternal.
what they thought to be good, maintaining ſtill, that we
ought in all things, to conform ourſelves unto virtue and
all this for that natural end, which they had found out; con-
cerning which, Philo (g) fpeaks thefe words; "The end,
"fo celebrated by the most excellent philofophers, is to live
according to nature: and this is done, when the foul en-
tering by the way of virtue, walks in the paths of right
reaſon, and follows God, ever mindful of his command.
ments, and obferving them with firmnefs, in all his words
"and actions." If man then ought to do this, in order to
his natural end, what ought he to do, in order to his fuper-
natural, and to eternity? Antoninus the philofopher, judging
that the end of man was to live according to nature, thought
it a great madneſs, not to conform himſelf to the accidents
of life, and bear them with calmness and equality of mind;
infomuch as he ſaid, To do otherways was the plague-fore,
and impoftume of the world. What would he have faid, of
committing grievous and deadly fins, which ſeparate us
from God, who is above all nature, and the author of it?
He was fo follicitous in ordering himfelf to this end, that
from morning until night, all his thoughts were bufied in
the contemplation of the end, whereunto he was born, and
in fitting his actions to comply with it. Whereupon he
gives us this advice (h): "In the morning when thou ri-
feft, and findest thyself oppreffed with fleep and floth,
"have this thought ever in readiness, that thou rifeft to
"exerciſe the actions of a man, and ſhalt therefore fay un-
to thyself, Whence comes it, that thou fo fluggishly go-
"eft about that, for which thou wert born, and for which
"thou cameſt into the world? wert thou perhaps born to
pamper thyſelf in a foft and warm bed? This indeed is
pleafing; but wert thou born for thy guft and pleaſure,
"and not for labour? fee'st thou not how plants, fpiders,
"ants, bees, and all things, employ themfelves in their
<
66
proper duties and thou only refuſeft to exerciſe the of
"fice of a reaſonable man, in what appertains unto thy
"nature? I confeſs ſome refreſhment is neceffary; but in
"this, nature hath prefcribed a rule, as in eating and drink-
"ing; but thou in this paffeft what is fufficient, and in
"what thou oughteſt to do falleft fhort, and reacheft not
"unto reaſon. This happens, becauſe thou dost not love
(g) Philo de Migr. Abraham.
(h) M. Aur. Anton. Phil. 1. 5. in princ.
Fff
"thyfelf:
:
410
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
thyſelf: for if thou didft, thou wouldeſt comply with thy
66 nature and her commands. Thofe crafts men, who love
" and take pleaſure in their arts, employ themfelves fo fe-
rioudly in them, that they neither think of bathing nor
feeding; but thou prizett not thy nature fo much, as a
"turner or comedian doth his trade, or a covetous man his
gold, or an ambitious man his vain glory. For thefe,
"that they may attain at what they aim, forget both food
and fleep; but thou eftcemeft the actions, proper to a
"reaſonable foul, unworthy of labour or follicitude.'
this is from that wife emperor, who from the confideration
of his end and nature, animated himself to comply with his
duty and obligation.
:
§. 4.
All
From what is ſpoken, we are to gather the estimation we
are to have of the eternal, and with what earnestness we are
to defire and ſeek it, fince it is the end for which we were
only born and that for itself we are not fo much as to look
at the temporal, as not being at all ordained for it. But
that we may likewife fee what ufe we are to make of it, and
the difference arifing betwixt it and the eternal, The one
being our end, and the other at beſt but our means to obtain
it, as we have already declared the nature of the eternal,
fo we will with as much brevity, as is poffible- explicate the
nature of the temporal, which as a medium, hath no other
reaſon to be loved or valued by us, but as it conduces to
our chief end, which is God and his glory. For as a foldier,
when he is in health, values not the Phyfician and his medi-
cines, becauſe they avail him not to the conquering of his
enemy and when he is fick or hurt, cares not to put on
his arms, becauſe they conduce not to the recovery of his
health In the like manner we are to keep our hearts and
wills free, and diffintereſted from any thing, but that which
leads to our end and falvation. The traveller, who is fixed
in his refolution of arriving to fome certain place, if he meet
with two or three feveral ways, defires not this more than
that, but only in as much as this may more readily bring
him to his reft, He cares not whether it be plain or hilly,
whether it lead to the right-hand or to the left: all is indif
ferent, fo it bring him whither he pretends. After the like
manner, we are to behave ourſelves in the uſe of things
temporal.
CAP. I.
411
the Temporal and Eternal.
temporal. We are neither to love the goods of this world,
nor fear the evils of it: but free from both, make only
choice of that which leads to our falvation. If poverty
bring thee to God, embrace it with both arms and efteem
ir; If riches and greatnefs withdraw thee from him, trample
them under foot, defpife and caft them from thee, as if they
were poifon; If difgraces and neglect of men affift thee to
gain Heaven, rejoice in thy affronts; If honours make thee
forget thy Creator, abhor them as death; If pleaſures dif-
tract thee from him, unto whom thou oweſt ſo much, de-
prive thyfelf of the contents of this life, that thou mayeft
not loſe thoſe of the other; And if grief or torments make
thee know thy Redeemer, receive them with all fubmiffion
and willingness. Wherefore thou art neither to defire, or
abhor good or evil in this life, but in as much as it unites or
ſeparates thee from God, who is thy true and only end.
This indifferency was well known unto David, as he is ex-
plicated by St. Auflin in that Pfalm, which he entitles and
dedicates unto the End, where he confiders himſelf as creat-
ed by God for fo high an end, as to ferve and enjoy him.
Upon which fuppofition he utters this fentence; As are bis
darkneſs, fɔ is his light; becauſe we are no more to en-
cline our affections to the luftre and fplendor of this life,
than to the obſcurity, ignominy and afflictions; no more to
the light and profperity, than to the darkneſs and adverfity
of it; and therefore the holy Father ſpeaks in this manner;
In this night, in this mortality of humane-life, men enjoy
"bath light and darkneſs. Light is profperity, and dark-
neis adverfity. But when Chrift our Saviour ſhall come
and inhabit the foul by faith, and fhall promiſe another
light, and fhall infpire and endow man with patience,
and thall fo move him, as not to be delighted with prof
perity, nor dejected with adverfity, The faithful man,
"Thall then begin to ule this world with indifferency, and
fhall not be puffed up, when things fucceed happily, nor
“broken and dejected, when they fall out crossly, but ſhall
"blefs God in all conditions, Whether he abound or want,
*Whether he be fick or in health, and fhall be ever ready
to fing this fong: I will blefs the Lord at all times; bis
praife fhall be ever in my mouth:"
Another condition of the medium, which is either the
fame that we have fpoken of, or united unto it, is, That we
are not to enjoy the medium, but only to uſe it: For in en-
joying
412
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
joying the foul refts and contents itſelf, which is proper to
the end; but in the ufe it aims at, the attaining fomething.
further, which is proper to the medium. We are therefore
not to ſeek after any creature, but as in much as it may be
a means to conduce to our end, which is the Creator; and
he, who ſeeks after things temporal for themſelves, does no
lefs an injury to God, than to change bafely his end,
leaving the eternal for the temporal, and the Creator for the
creature, and becomes ſo much a fot and a fool, as he mif-
takes his true end, and makes the medium his end, and
ſubmits himſelf to a vile creature. From whence may be
underſtood that difference betwixt things, which is noted by
St. Aufline and Divines, that fome things are to be enjoyed
and others only made ufe of. We are only to enjoy the
eternal, and use the temporal only fo far, as may help to
fave us, and no further. For, as the fame faint faith, The
vicious life of man is no other, than that which he ufes ill,
and that which he enjoys ill; and to the contrary, the holy
and laudible life of the good is that which uses this world
aright, and enjoys God aright. From hence also may be
refolved that doubt amongst the ancient philofophers, which
are the true goods. Which controverfy was alſo on foot
amongst the faithful in David's time. Wherefore he de-
mands in one of his Pfalms: Quis oftendit nobis bona? Who
will fhew us the good things? This doubt is refolved, and
an answer is given to the question: That thofe are the goods.
which unite us unto God, and thofe the only evil, which
feparate us from him. Whereupon St. Anjline (i) ſays,
"We now know no other evil than to offend God, and not
to obtain what he hath promifed: neither know we other
good, than to pleafe him, and attain unto what he hath
promifed. What have we then to fay unto the goods.
and evils of this life, but to be indifferent unto either?
becauſe being now drawn forth from the womb of our
Mother Babylon, efteeming them as indifferent, we fay,
« Such is his darkneſs, as is bis light; neither doth the prof
perity of this life make us happy, nor the adverfity mifer-
" able." Socrates faid, that the chiefeft wisdom was to dif
tinguiſh good from evil. And Seneca knew no better rule to
diftinguish them, than by their end; and therefore fays;
* When thou wouldeſt know what thou haft to defire, and
what to fly, look upon the chief good, and the end of thy
" whole
66
6 C
64
66
(i) Aug. in Pfalm. 138.
i
CAP. I.
413
the Temporal and Eternal.
whole life;" for unto that all which we do is to relate ;
And fo according to what we have faid concludes, that only
to be good, which is virtuous, and all other goods falfe and
adulterate. Thou art eternally to enjoy thy Creator. Con-
tent thyself with this hope, and place not thy joy in the
creature, which is only lawful for thee to use.
§. 5.
But we are much to confider, that the most excellent uſe
of the creatures, for the attaining unto the Creator is the
contempt of them. God would have it fo eafy for thee to
obtain thy end, that thou couldeſt not miss the means, fince
even the want of all things may further thee. Let no man
therefore complain of the neceffities of life, fince, though all
things fail him, the means of his falvation will not fail him;
for even that want may be a means to obtain it. If thou
fhalt therefore fall into fuch a poverty, as thou haft nothing
to fuftain thee, if it conduce to thy falvation, think thyfelf
the happiest man in the world, and embrace it with a hun-
dred hands; for as all things, which hinder us from our
end, are to be contemned, fo whatfoever helps us to the ob-
taining of it, (although it be grief, pain, or death itfelf) is
to be clteemed above all value. So great a matter it is to
be a means of thy falvation, that Chrift our Lord, who is
the beginning and end of all things, difdained it not him-
felf: incarnating, dying, and remaining for that end, in the
moft bleffed Sacrament of his Body and Blood. And if it
coft the Son of God fo dear to be a means of thy falvation,
do not thou ſtick at any thing (how horrible foever it ap-
pear to humane-nature) that may advance and fecure it,
but eſteem it as a Paradife, though it be infamy, fhame or
diſhonour.
Thou travelleft towards Heaven; that's the end of thy
journey. Make thy voyage fecure, whatfoever it cost thee.
He who goes for the Indies, if he may embark in a ſtrong
and well rigged veffel, will not make choice of that which is
rotten and worm eaten. Take the certaineft way for Hea-
ven; and believe me, there is none more ready, than that
of the Crofs of Chrift, his humility and mortification. In
all things thou defireft ftill the beft for thyself. Know there
is nothing better, or more imports thee than a good life.
Make
414
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
And who
}
Make it then a good one: and content not thyfelf with this
which thou now livet, if thou canst make it better; and no
way more ready and available to improve it, than by imita-
ting the life of thy Redeemer, te defpife all that is temporal.
This is the mott proper and certain way of obtaining the
eternal, whereunto thou art to afpire, and for which thou
weit born. Have ftill thy end before thine eyes; for thou
erreft ſo often as thou doft not behold it, and can't not err
without great danger. Many compare this life unto a high
and narrow bridge, fo narrow that it is fearce broad enough
for our feet and if we fall, we precipitate into a filthy lake,
where ferpents and dragons wait to devour us.
being to pass fuch a bridge in an obfcure and dark night,
having no other guide to direct him, but a little light place
in the end of the bridge, durft for one inftant remove his
eyes from it? In the like condition are we. This life is
ſtraight bridge, over which we are to paſs in the night and
darkneſs of this world. We cannot come off fafely in this
dangerous paffage, without ftill looking at our end, and ar
that divine light, which enlightens our fouls. Let not our
eyes wander from it, left we fall into that gulph, and periſh
for all eternity. This perdition David fignified in the title,
which he gave unto his 13th Pfalm, which he calls, For the
End, where he fays, That thofe who look not upon God as
their utmost end, making no more account of him, than if
he were not, That fuch became abominable and corrupted
in their intentions: That there was not one amongst them,
who did well: That all became vain and unprofitable, and
failed in their thoughts, words and actions: That their
mouths were as peftilential, as an open fepulchre, which
none could endure for the stench of worms and corruption:
That the poiſon of afps was in their lips, and deceit and
bitternels in their mouths: That all their ways were wick-
edneſs, and that therefore their feet ran fwiftly to fhed blood:
That their hearts were full of fearful imaginations, and that
they tremble where there was nothing to fear finally,
That all their courfes were nothing but ruin, and unhappi-
nefs: That they did not invoke and pray unto the Lord:
That they knew not the ways of peace: That the fear of
God was not before their eyes. All this, which David de-
ciphers, happened, as he faith, unto this wicked people, be-
cauſe they had not God in their hearts, nor did propofe him
as the end of their actions. And truly from this defect
ī
fprings
CAP. II.
415
the Temporal and Eternal.
fprings all that is evil. For without God there is neither
quiet, peace nor virtue; for true peace confifts in ſeeking
nothing but God, and for God. In this confifts the liberty
of the fons of God, the contempt of the world, the tranqui
lity of the mind, and the conformity with the will of God.
And most certainly the foundation of all virtue, is to know
that we are born for nothing but the fervice of God; and fo
forget it, as the wicked do, is (as David fays) a certain kind
of Atheiſm, making us live, as if there were no God, in
looſeneſs of manners without prayer, and without the quiet
and repoſe of the foul. To these three heads, the Prophet
reduces the diforders of thofe, who think not of their chief
end, nor remember that there is a God. And therefore he,
who to the contrary fhall ftill fix his thoughts upon that
whereunto he is ordained, fhall be endured with virtucus
habits, fervour, and frequency of prayer, and poffefs quiet
and peace of mind. For as the iron touched by the load-
ftone refts not until it refpe&t the North, no more ſhall a
heart ever enjoy repofe, but in beholding his chief and laft
end, which is God.
CA P. II.
By the knowledge of ourselves, may be known the use of things
Temporal, and the little efleem we are to make of them.
B BE
EFORE we paſs further, I muft here advertiſe you of a
point of great importance, which is, that for the Fight
uſe of things, the knowledge of the things themſelves, and
the end whereunto they ferve, is not fufficient; but there is
required alſo a knowledge of the perfon, who is to uſe them.
It is not enough for the wife phyfician, to know the ufe and
property of his medicaments, unless he know the nature and
quality of his patient, his temper, ſtrength, age, and other
circumſtances, that according to them, he may adminiſter
his remedies. And therefore having fhewn the end of man
to be eternal, and that the things of this world, are only to
be uſed as means to obtain it, we fhall now for the compleat-
ing of this matter, ſpeak ſomething of the eftate and quality
of
416
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
of man, as he now is, that he may thereby know what ufe
of things temporal, is moſt convenient for him.
Humane nature is at the prefent, in a far different condi
tion from that wherein it was, when God at first created
man, and placed him in Paradife: ſo as a far different uſe
of things temporal from that, which was then lawful and
convenient, is now to be required. And therefore it is fit
that we know what man is, that we may afcertain the uſe of
man, and the things of man, which cannot be done without
the knowledge of what he is in general, and alſo that every
one know what he himself is in particular. And therefore
Dion Chryfoftomus (k) fays, He, who knows not man, can-
not make uſe of man and he, who knows not himself,
cannot make uſe of himſelf, nor of thofe things which be-
long unto his nature. But who can arrive uuto the know-
ledge of himself? It is fo difficult, that the Devil, although
he knew how important this knowledge was to man, and
wifhed nothing but his ruin and perdition, yet confident in
the impoffibility of attaining, and defirous to gain the cre
dit of a wife God among the Grecians, he called this com-
mand, Know thyself, to be placed in his temple of Apoila
in Delphos. And truly the light of Heaven, is neceffary for
this knowledge; and we guided by what faith dictates, and
the faints inftruct us, will endeavour to fay fomething,
whereby we may at leaft, be lefs ignorant of what we are.
It is then to be confidered, what man is of himſelf, and what
he is of God, that is, what he hath of himſelf, and what he
hath received from God. What he hath from God, mul!
needs be good, fince he gave it, from whom can proceed no
ill. And if upon this fcore, becauſe it is good, he hath leis
ground to humble himſelf, I am fure he hath none to boast
of, fince it is wholly the Divine-benefit, not having any
thing of himſelf, but what he hath received. Only he may
confider that by the fin of Adam, he hath put himself in a
worfe condition, both for foul and body, than when he re-
ceived them from God. His foul is now full of ignorance
and imbecility to what is good, and fubje&t to a thoufand
miferies, which it then had not; And his body, which is
now mortal, was then immortal, and free from the corrupti-
on of thoſe infirmities, which (as hath been already faid)
accompany it, until it end in duft, worms, and afhes. But
thefe (although by the perverfenefs of our nature they are
(k) Dion Chryſ. Orat. 19,
become
AL
CA P. II.
417
the Temporal and Eternal.
become much worſe) yet coming from God are good, and
are an honour and glory in refpe&t of what he poffeffes from
himſelf.
This the Araufican council declares in two words, that is,
We are nothing of ourſelves but a lie and fin; that is the
nothing that we are, and the evil we are. A lie we are :
becauſe what is a lie, is not; And from ourſelves, we have
only a not being; for what have we but what God hath
given us? take away what we have received, and there re-
mains nothing. This is what is ours: What is more, is our
Creator's; and therefore we are not to uſe it according to our
own fancy, but his pleafure. Thou art alſo to confider,
that thou oughteſt to humble thyself more for being nothing
than for being but duft and afhes. For thofe are fomething;
and betwixt ſomething and nothing, there is no proportion,
and, as the philofophers fay, an infinite diſtance. Thou
haft not from thyfelf, fo much as a poffibility of being; for
if God were not God, thou couldeft not have being at all.
From this confideration, thou haft great reafon to humble
thyfelf. For to be nothing, is a Well without bottom, ne-
ver to be drawn dry: yet this nothing is far better than what
thou art by fin. Here the moft holy faints have funk down
in amazement, and fome, unto whom our Lord hath re-
vealed what they are, have been fo aftoniſhed, as they had
certainly died, if they had not been comforted, and upheld
by the Divine-hand. For having finned, thou art as evil
as fin itſelf. Call to mind what we have laid of the infinite
malice and abomination of fin. All this falls upou him who
commits it: With reafon therefore did Dion the philofopher
fay, That it was moſt hard to know one's felf: becauſe it
was moſt hard to comprehend the malice of fin, which being
the chiefeſt evil, becomes in a manner as difficult to be
known as the chiefeſt good and therefore no better way to
find what it is, than to proceed after the fame way we do in
the knowledge of God.
§. 2.
Št. Dionyfius Areopatiga teaches us, that in the knowledge
of God, we may proceed after two manners: either by the
way of affirmation, attributing unto God all what is good
and perfect: or by way of negation, denying unto him all
what is good or perfect in the creatures, as being of a good-
Gg g
nefs
418
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
nefs and perfection infinitely above it. In the fame manner
we are to proceed in the knowledge of fin, either by affirma-
tion, in attributing unto it all the ill, in all creatures whatfo-
ever, or by negation, denying it any ill, as being a malice of
another kind, horrible and enormous, above all other evils
imaginable. Call together therefore all the evils thou haft
feen, heard or read of; join all theſe in one; a mortal fin
is worſe than all thefe together. The miferies of Job, the
peftilence in the time of David, the torments of Phalaris,
Nero, Dioclefian, and all the tyrants, are far fhort of it in
malice. It is as bad, as all thofe afflictions and miferies
which they fuffered, who perifhed in the deluge, and thofe
who were burned alive in Sodom, and the neighbouring
towns, and as all they fuffered, who were put to the fword in
Amalec, and all thofe that were hunger-ftarved in the fiege
of Ferufalem? One only mortal fin goeth far beyond all the
aforefaid miſeries. All the plagues, wars. fick nefs, famines,
all that hath been fuffered fince the world began, come not
near the ill of one fin. Good God! how vaft is that evil,
which is equivalent to fo many evils? where fhall we find
an evil that may equal it? where fhall we meet with an end
of fo much malice? Certainly all the evils, that have been
fince the world began, or could fucceed in a million of
worlds to come, fall fhort of it. If nothing then upon earth
be comparable unto it, let us feek it beneath the earth
amongst thofe eternal evils, which fhall never have end.
Let us enter Hell, and confider the torments there, which
are or have been fuffered by men or devils, even from the
leaſt and moſt unknown of the damned, unto Lucifer and
Antichrift. Is there any thing there that may equal the evil
of one fin? No, we ſhall not there find it. Reffect, 1 fay
again, and mark if thou findeft any torment amongst fo
many miſerable creatures as fuffer in Hell, which may paral-
lel the malice of one only mortal fin. There is none to be
found. But I will give thee leave to make a collection of
thoſe many torments, which may feem unto thee in reafon,
comparable to a mortal fin, and you ſhall find, that fin does
not only equalize, but cxceed the malice of them. Join
then together, and put in one heap all the torments that are
infli&ed, upon all damned creatures, men and angels, and
compare the malice of them all with that one of mortal fin,
and you ſhall find that the malice of fin, doth far furpaſs the
malice of all thofe. That gnafhing of teeth, that inconfo-
V
lable
CA P. II.
419
the Temporal and Eternal.
lable weeping, that burning fire, which penetrates the bow-
els for all eternity, all that our imagination can frame,
reaches not ſo immenfe an evil. If we cannot therefore find
the depth of the malice of fin by way of affirmation, let us
try what may be done by the other way of negation. But
this will also fait us. For the evil of plagues, famine, and
death are not it; A mortal fin is more than thefe. The
evils of poverty, difhonour, and torments are not it: It is
more than theſe. The torments of hell are not it; It is above
hell and all the pains of it. Think with thyself that all the
atoms, which are to be found in the air, all the fands in the
fea, all the leaves on the trees, all the grafs in the fields, all
the ſtars in the heavens, think, I ſay, that they are foul and
ugly bodies, all moſt deformed nionſters, and frame to thy-
felf a nonſter and ugly creature, which fhould be made of
all these will this equalize the foulnefs of a mortal fin ? It
is not this ugly moniter, nor this foul deformed creature:
but it is a foulnefs and uglinefs, that doth far furpafs all
thefe, and all horrid fhapes and figures imag.nable. And
let not this feem ſtrange unto thee; For not only the evil of
a mortal fin, but even that of a venia!, is greater than all
the evils of hell, or the evils within or without it; all the
monitrouſneſs, all the deformity of all things, that are or
can be contracted into one, do not equal it; Sin is more than
all. And therefore as St. Dionyfius faid of God, That he
was above what was good, or what was fair, becauſe his
goodneſs and beauty were of a fuperior kind, fo it may be
faid of fin: It is neither deformity, abomination, horror or
malice, but it is fomething more than all theſe.
Let a finner therefore know himſelf, and that he is by fin
above all that is ugly, foul or monftrous. For as he, that
hath whiteness, is as white as that which makes him fo, ſo
he, that is in fin, is as horrible and ill as fin itſelf. Let him
then reffe&t whether he is to fink charged with fuch a guilt,
and how much he ought to abhor and loath himſelf. Cer-
tainly if he ſhould fink into hell, he would there find no
torment worse than himſelf. If he ſhould return into the
abyfs of nothing, he would be there better than in that abyſs
of malice, which is in fin. Let him then reflect whether fo
unworthy and vile a wretch ought to have the fame ufe of
the creatures, as if he were in the ftate of innocency, and
without this blemish of fin. Let him confider if a perfon fo
infamous, fo abominable as himself, ought to ufe the things
of
420
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
of this world for his delight, honour, pomp and oftentation.
The emperor Marcus Aurelius, Lord of the world, and pof-
feffor of the greatest honours it could give him, though a
Gentile, yet thought himself fo worthy of contempt, that he
writes in this manner; "Treat thyself, Q foul with igno
* miny, and deſpiſe thyfelf;" For thou haft no title to ho-
nour. It is a prodigious thing, that he, who hath commit-
ted a mortal fin, fhould defire honour and refpe&t: That he
fhould complain of the troubles of this life, and defire to be
cheriſhed and made much of: That he, who is the fhame
and infamy of the world, fhould gape after glory: That he
who is a traytor to his God, fhould wish to be honoured and
refpected. He who hath deferved hell for an eternity, why
ſhould he grumble at a fhort ficknefs or the neceffities of this
life, which if he make the right use of, may ſerve as a means
of his falvation? Let him therefore, who hath finned, know
that he is not to make the fame uſe of the creatures, as if
he were innocent; he is not to aim at other honour, than
that of God; he is not to feek after eaſe and the commodi-
ties of life, but the fecurity of his falvation: not to thirst
after the pleasures of the world, but to perform ftri& penan-
ces for his fins paft. O if one knew himſelf perfectly, with
what different eyes would he behold the things of the world?
he would look upon them as things not appertaining to him
at all; and if he did not defpife them, at least he would
make no account of them. The Son of God, only becauſe
be took upon him the form of a finner, would not use the
goods of this life, but rather embraced all that was trouble-
fome, painful and bitter in it. Why fhould he then, who is
really and in fubftance a finner, feek honours and delights?
Let him know the means of his falvation, fince Chrift him-
felf hath taught them, to wit, Penance,, Mortification and
the Crols. If Chrift, because he bore the fins of others,
uſed not temporal goods and the commodities of life, why
fhould man, who is loaden with his own fins, complain he
wants the pleaſures and conveniencies of it? Why fhould he
gape after the goods of the earth, who is infected with a
greater evil than that of hell? The admirable man, bleſſed
Francis Borgia, the great defpifer of himſelf and the world,
out of this confideration, was most content in the tribulati-
ons and want of all things temporal: and the leaſt comfort
in his greatest neceffities feemed too much for him. All
men wondered to fee him fo poor, and the incommodities
he
CAP. IL
421
the Temporal and Eternal.
he fuffered in his travel, when he visited the Colleges of the
Society in Spain. Amongst the reft a certain gentleman,
amazed at his great pains and fufferance, faid unto him,
Father how is it poffible, that having been fo great a Lord,
you can endure the troubles and inconveniencies of the
ways? To whom the fervant of God anfwered; Sir, do not
pity me; for I always fend before me a Harbinger, who
provides plentifully for all things neceffary. This Harbing-
er was the knowledge of himself, which in his greateſt ne-
ceffities, made what he had appear too plentiful.
§. 3.
Befides this, he who hath finned ought to confider, that
he hath need of God's holy hand to draw him out of that
miſery, or, if he be already by repentance freed, to preſerve
him from falling again into it; That the means to obtain
this, is not the pride of the world, the riches of the earth, or
the pleaſures of the flesh, but fafting, fack-cloth, humiliation
and penance. Let him remember that of himself he is no-
thing, and to that nothing hath added fin; that being no-
thing, he can do nothing that is good: and that by fin he
hath diſobliged him, who only could affift him in doing
good. Man is of himself nothing but a lie, and fin, two
horrid and profound abyffes. Let him imitate David, who
faid, I cried unto thee, O Lord, from the deeps: what other
deeps, than thoſe two of nothing and of fin, which have no
bottom? Let him then, who hath once offended his Creator,
know himſelf, and where he remains. Let him pray, figh,
and cry from his nothing, and from the depth of his mifery,
that he may be heard of his God. And certainly for him,
who is in the condition of a penitent, and to demand mercy,
it is not feemly to uſe faperfluities, to employ himſelf in va-
nities, to take delight in the world, enjoy the creatures, and
feek after greatnefs. And although it were lawful in the in
tegrity of nature, when man was free from the corruption of
fin, to use the creatures with more liberty, yet being now
fallen, it is no ways tolerable: but let him look upon him-
felf as one guilty, who hath offended his God, and is in fine
a miſerable man.
The Philofophers, who confidered nature, not as it was
by fin, but as it ought to be in itfelt, meaſured their virtues
by
422
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
by that rule, and therefore knew not the virtue of humility,
nor uſed that of penance; And the virtues of magnanimity,
conftancy, and magnificence they extended fo far, that
many actions, which the Stoicks and Peripateticks called
virtuous, may be eſteemed vicious. But the horribleness of
fin, and the weakneſs of humane nature being now difcove-
red, the eftate of things is changed, and humility ought ftill
to reign both in our fouls and bodies: and many acts of
other virtues esteemed by them are to be corrected. We
are to chuſe different mediums for the advancing our end,,
from thofe of the Philofophers, both becauſe the ends we
aim at are not the fame, and becauſe we know ourfelves to
be in a far other condition than they imagined. The end
propoſed by the Philofophers was meerly natural, to wit, the
happineſs and felicity of this life. The eftate of humane
nature they conceived to be free, and uncontaminated by
fin, and that it had fufficient force of itfelf to do good. In
all this they were deceived; and it is not therefore ftrange,
it for their obtaining of their ends, they taught ways diftin&t
from those of chriftians, who knew their end to be fuperna-
tural, to wit, the happineſs not of this, but of the other life:
who know alfo their ftate of nature, not to be free and en-
fire as it was at first, but corrupted and defaced by fin, and
that of itſelf it hath neither force nor efficacy, to execute
any thing that is good, unleſs affifted by the grace and mer-
cy of God. It is therefore no marvel, if chriftians, who
know themfelves, their end and condition, make ufe of fuch
virtues and mediums as the Philofophers knew not. Neither
is it much that the Philofophers took fome virtuous a&s for
vices, fince they mistook many vices for virtues. Ariftotle
the prince of natural and moral Phifolophers, knew not hu-
mility, voluntary poverty, and penance to be virtues, but
rather condemned the laft to be a kind of infenfibility, and
one of thofe vices contrary to the virtue of temperance.
The Stoicks alſo held pity and commiferation for a vice.
But fince the Gofpel of Chrift, thefe are become the moſt
neceffary and recommended virtues, and the most apt and
ready means for obtaining of our falvation. Thefe three
virtues, in which confifts the contempt of all things tempo-
ral, Ariftotle knew not, becauſe he knew not himself. By
humility honours are defpiled, by poverty riches, and by
penance the pleaſures and regaloes of the world. And
therefore he who will make the right and profitable ufe of
things
CA P. III.
423
the Temporal and Eternal.
things temporal for the gaining of eternity, muft as a finner
humble himſelf, and do penance, must not employ himſelf
and the time of his life, in gathering and heaping up rich-
es, which are fo far from being goods, that to innumerable
perfons they have fhut up the gates of the true and real
goods, which are only the eternal, unto which we are wholly
to aſpire, not trufting in our own forces, but in the mercy
and paffion of Jefus Chrift.
CA P. III.
The value of goods eternal is made apparent unto us, by the
Incarnation of the Son of God.
BUT above all
all which hath been faid, the incomparable
difference betwixt things Temporal and Eternal, is
made moſt apparent unto us by the incarnation and paffion
of Jefus Chrift. The gaining of eternity is a matter of fo
high concernment, that the Son of God, to the end we
might obtain it, was incarnate and made man; and that we
might defpife things temporal is alfo of fo great importance,
that for it, it was convenient that Chrift our Redeemer fhould
fuffer and die. I know not what can raiſe in us a higher
conception of the greatneſs of the one,, and baſeneſs of the
other, than theſe high and ftupendous acts of God Almigh-
ty. And therefore (though briefly) we will fay fomething of
them both, beginning with that admirable and great mystery
of the incarnation.
Great is all that which is eternal, and fo much imports us
that rather than we ſhould lole it, God wrought a work of
that height and love as amazed the angels. In which we
will confider four things: The greatnefs of the work, The
manner of putting it in execution, The evils from which it
frees us, and The good we gain by it. For the first, which
is the greatness of the work, we are to fuppofe the ſtate of
man, as he then ſtood; which was the moft miferable, infa-
mous, and wretched condition that could be imagined. He
was become a ſlave to the devil, polluted with fin, condem-
ned unto eternal punishment, enemy to God, and without
hope of remedy. For even the highest Seraphins could not
imagine,
4
!
424
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
:
imagine, that without prejudice to the juftice of God, it was
poffible for man to be redeemed from that miferable and ig-
nominious ſtate. For although all the men in the world
fhould fuffer a thoufand deaths, and all the orders of holy
angels in heaven fhould offer themfelves in facrifice, and
fhould fuffer eternal torments in hell, all would not fatisfy
for one mortal fin. All created remedies were then impoffi-
ble; and although God ſhould have created fome more ex-
cellent and holy creature, than the most high Seraphins,
yet that and they, were infufficient to appease the Divine-
juftice incenfed againſt man What remedy then, where
none was to be had? What hope, when all was defpair?
Certainly from what was, or could be created it was impof-
fible and from the Creator it was not known to be poffible;
and if it was known to be poffible, who could hope, that the
offended party fhould fatisfy for the offence committed a-
gainst himself? that the creditor ſhould pay what the debtor
owed? What hope then of remedy, when all hope failed
both from heaven and earth? The only remedy, and that
only known to God, was, that God without prejudice to his
juſtice, might cover man with his mercy: but that much to
the cost of God himself, and the greatest work, whereunto
his power and wiſdom could extend. But who could think
he would employ fo great a work for his enemy? that he
would fet up the rest of his omnipotency for h m, who was a
traytor to his Lord? Only this way remained, for God to
make himſelf man, the most great and ftupendous work
poffible or imaginable. But who could believe this fhould
be done for man, fo vile a creature, made of a little earth,
and of fo ſmall importance to God? This was a work to be
reſerved for God himſelf, if his own divinity, life or falvati-
on (if it were poffible) ſhould come in question; let it be
lawful to ſpeak in this manner, to exprefs in fome fort that
which is inexplicable, and to fet forth this ineffable myſtery,
and the incomprehenfible goodness of God. But to do this
for the life of a traytor, for the falvation of a faith breaker,
to advance an enemy, who could once hope or dare to ima-
gine it? If a man for the fervice of God had, as a faithful
fervant, hazarded his perfon, and run himſelf into that mi-
ferable and fad condition, it might have been prefumed,
that God out of his goodneſs and acknowledgement, would
have ftretched his power for his freedom; but that man
having robbed God of his honour, contemned him, and
made
CAP. III.
425
the Temporal and Eternal.
made himſelf equal unto him, and that God ſhould yet after
all this humble himſelf for him, debafe himſelf fo low as to
be made man, and that for his enemy, who could think it?
But fuch is the goodneſs of God that he overcame our hopes
with his benefits, and did that for us, which would have only
fufficed for himfelf; and for himself he could have done no
more. O molt ftupendous love of God! O most immenſe
charity of our Creator, who fo much loved man, that he
fluck not to do what he could for him! O ineffable good-
nefs, which would diſcharge that debt which his enemy
owed! O divine nobleness, that would fo much to his own
colt do good to man, from whom he had received fo much
evil! To redeem man, though it had cost him nothing,
had been much; but at fo great a rate, who could imagine
it? But the thoughts of God are far different from thoſe of
men.
§. 2.
Let us now look upon the greatnefs of this work: grea:
after divers manners; great by the humbling of God fo
much below himſelf, great in itſelf, ſo great, ai the omnipo-
tent power of God could work no greater. Here the divine
attributes were drawn dry. For (as St. Aufline fays) neither
God could do a greater work, nor knew how to determine it
better; there was found the bottom of the whole omnipoten-
cy of God: for a greater work than this was neither poffible
nor imaginable. For as nothing greater than God is poffi-
ble, ſo no work can poffibly be greater than that, whereby
man is made God. See then what thou oweſt him for this
exceſs of favour, that being his enemy he did all for thee,
that his omnipotency could, that his wifdom knew, or his
divine goodneſs and love could will. All theſe attributes thy
Creator employed for thy good; employ thou all thy powers
in his ſervice. God did all he could for thee; do thou all
thou can'ſt for him. He wrought the work of thy redempti
on with all his forces and omnipotency, do thou then with
all thy power and forces obſerve his divine will and pleaſure,
loving and ferving him in all things. See't thou not here
his infinite love and goodneſs, made apparent and laid down
before thine eyes? doft thou not yet doubt to love him with
all thy powers and faculties, who loved thee with all his om-
nipotency? See what a love was this, when he did that for
Hhh
thee
426
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
i
1
thee being his enemy, greater than which he could not do
for his friend: nor for himſelf, if his own glory were at
flake. See'st thou not clearly his infinite goodneſs, that over-
came fo infinite a malice, man not being able to do a work
against God of fo fupendous wickedness, but God would
do a work for man of a more ſtupendous goodneſs, not ſuf-
fering his divine goodnefs to be overcome by humane ma-
lice. God faw that man did a work fo profoundly evil, that
there could not poffible be a worſe for nothing can be ſo
bad as a mortal fin. He therefore determined to do a work
fo infinitely good, that in goodness it was impoffible to be a
better; and this for accurfed thee. What fay'st thou to it?
What fay't thou to fuch an overflowing bounty, To fuch án
exceís of love? Hear what the Apoitle fays (1); "If thy
"enemy be a hungred, feed him; if he be thirsty, give
"him to drink, fo fhalt thou heap coals of fire upon his
"head. Be not overcome with evil, but overcome evil with
"good." This did thy Creator fully perform with thee,
although his enemy. Yield thyself then vanquished, and
bluſh that thou loveft him not better than the angels. Thy
ftate was not only neceffitated by hunger and thirst, but thou
waft plunged into eternal mifery, and want of all things that
were good, deprived of glory and eternal happiness. If then
to beſtow a bit of bread, or a cup of water upon a neceffita-
ted enemy be fufficient to call colour into his face, and are
as coals to enflame him in love and charity: What is it for
God to have communicated his divinity unto man, and to
have given his life for him, when he was his enemy? How
comes not this to make us blufh for fhame, and fet us a fire
in his divine love? Thefe benefits are not to be coals, but
Alames, which ought to kindle in us the fire of true love and
charity. Give thyfelf then for over-come, and love that di-
vine goodness, which for thee being the worst of all his
creatures, did the best work of his omnipotency. O noble-
nefs of God Almighty, O divine fenfe of honour! (that I
may ſo ſpeak) man had overcome all works good or bad in
malice; but fuch was the immenfe goodness of God, that
he would not fuffer man to do a work fo exceffive in evil,
but he would do a work for the falvation of traitorous and
falſe man more exceffive in good. Wherefore O Lord did'ft
thou not this, when the angels finned, who were better than
man? What goodnefs is this, that thou forbeareft fo foul a
finner?
(1) Ad Roman, FI,
1
}
CAP. III.
427
the Temporal and Eternal..
finner? Is it perhaps that thy work might appear the great-
cr? Wouldeft thou expect until man had first fet up his rett
in impudence and malice, that thou mighteſt then fet up thy
reft in mercy and goodness? Who fees not here, O Lord,
the infinitnefs of thy love, and the immenfenefs of thy
bounty?
After all manners, this excellent work proclaims thy ex-
cefs of bounty, becauſe it is after all manners infinitely good
and opens as many parts to the underſtanding of our fouls
to adore and admire thee. For this work is not only infi-
nitely good in ſubſtance, but in each particular circumſtance.
In itself it is infinitely good. For no work can be better than
that which makes man fo good, as it makes him God. It
is good becauſe by it the divinity is communicated unto a
creature, and, which is more, unto the lowest, and most vile,
of thoſe who are capable of reafon. For as it is the property
of what is good to be communicative, fo here we fee the
infinite goodness of God, who wholly, and all what he is
illues forth of himſelf, and is communicated unto man.
Who is not amazed, that the fame divinity which the eter-
nal Father communicates unto the eternal word, who is God
as he is, fhould after an admirable manner be communica-
ted unto humane nature, which was enemy unto him? O
fea of divine goodness, that thus poureft forth thyself to do
good without regarding unto whom! O ocean of bounty,
that thus over-floweft in benefits even towards thine enemies!
This work is like wife infinitely good, becaufe with goodnefs
it overcomes an infinite malice, and frees him, who was fo
evil, that he deferved an infinite punishment. It is infinite-
ly good, becauſe it lets forth God with an infinite defire to
pardon, and do good even unto the greatest traytor, and
who leaft deſerved it. It fhews him alfo infinitely good and
compleat in all virtue and perfection, that rather than to
fail the leait jot in his juttice, he would take upon him that,
which was due unto a moſt unjust and accurfed offender,
and humbled himlelf unto death, that he, who was con-
demned to die, ſhould not perish eternally. I know not any
thing, that can fet forth God, as a more exact and perfect
pattern of all virtue, than a work of fo much justice and
mercy. Who would not be amazed, at the goodneſs and
pięty of a great emperor, who having a defire to pardon a
notorious traytor, fhould rather, than abate one jot of his
inflexible juftice, take upon him the habit and ſhape of that
traytor,
428
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
:
traytor, and die publicly in the market place, that the offend-
er might be ſpared? This did God, taking upon him the
form of a fervant, and dying upon the Crols to free con-
demned man from eternal death. O God every way moſt
perfect and good, which art fo fcrupulous in thy juſtice, and
fo indulgent in thy mercy: rigorous with thyfelf, that thou
mighteſt be merciful with us. O God infinitely good, infi-
nitely holy, infinitely exact, and perfect in all ! Let the an-
gels praife thee for all thy perfections, fince all are tranfcen-
dent, and infinitely good.
5. 3.
To this may be added the excellent manner, by which a
work every way fo excellently good was performed, and with
what love and defire of thy benefit it was wrought. From
whence could a work of fo much goodness iffue, but from a
furnace of love in the divine breast? And if by the effect,
we may know the cauſe, that love, which made God refolve
upon a work fo admirable ftrange and high, could not be
other than immenfe in itfelf; for fince the work was infinite-
ly good, it could not proceed but from an infinite love: nor
that love but from an infinite being. Befides this, it was a
great prerogative and honour to humane nature, that God
fhould rather make himſelf a man than an angel. With
being an angel, he might have freed man, and honoured
the angels, communicated his divine goodnefs unto the
creatures, and done a work of infinite bounty and favour.
This notwithſtanding, he was fo paffionate a lover of man,
and, (if I may fo fay) fo fond of human nature, that he
would not only oblige man by redeeming him, but in the
manner of his redemption; he would not only that man
fhould be redeemed, but that he fhould be redeemed by a
man, and to would not only give the remedy, but confer
alfo the honour upon our nature.
Neither was he content
in honouring man more than angels, but would redeem him
and not the angels. This was a demonſtration of his affec-
tion unto man, beyond all expreffion, that not pardoning
the angels, who were of a more excellent and fupreme be-
ing than ours, he yet took pity of us, and not of them, and
would do that for us, which he did not for them. Unto this
add, that when man finned, and the whole ſtock of mankind
was ruined, there remained no juſt man to commiſerate and
intercede
CAP. IIL
429
the Temporal and Eternal.
intercede for him. But when the angels fell, there remain-
ed thouſands righteous, who might pity thofe of their own
nature, and be ſenſible of their lofs; and yet he would do
this for man, and not for angels. The time alſo, when this
great work of mercy was put in execution, fhews not a little,
the ſweetneſs of God Almighty to our nature. It was in a
time, when mankind was moſt forgetful of God: when men
flrove to make themſelves adored for Gods, and thofe, who
could not attain unto it themselves, adored other men worſe
than devils. Then did God think of making himſelf man,
and for man, who would make himſelf God. This was a
love indeed, to do moſt for us then, when we moſt offended
him.
But let us fee what good we received by this great work.
Certainly if we had received no good at all, it was much to
free us from thofe evils, whereunto we were plunged to de-
liver us from the ignominy of fin, from the flavery of the
devil, and from the horror of hell. To free us from theſe
evils without any other benefit, might be held an infinite
good. And though there had been no evils to be freed from,
nor goods to be bestowed upon us, yet the honour, which
our nature received, in having God to become one of us,
was an incomparable blefling. But joining to this honour
our deliverance, from thole horrid and defperate evils, what
happineſs may be compared to ours? Juftin writes, that
Alexander the Great, beholding Lyfimachus wounded in the
head, and that he loft much blood, took his diadem, and
bound it about his temples to ftay his bleeding. This was
a great favour from fo mighty a prince, as well in the care
he took of him, as in the manner, taking the enfign of ma-
jefty from his own head, and giving it to his vaffal. But
Lyfimachus had not injured Alexander: he had ferved him
faithfully, and received that wound in his quarrel. Neither
did Alexander give him his diadem for ever, but fuffered
him only to wear it upon that preſent occafion. But the
mortal wound of fin, was not received by man in defence of
God, or in his quarrel, but in rebellion against him. Yet
God vouchlafes to cure the traitor, honours him with his
own diadem, which is his divinity, communicating it upon
him, not for a fhort space, and then to take it from him, but
beſtowing it upon him for all eternity. What a bounty is
this unto an enemy, that in freeing him frem fuch a mifery,
crowns him with to great happinets ?
But
430
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
But if to all this we fhall add thofe other bleffings, which
he beſtows upon us, giving us his grace, adopting us the
Sons of God, and making us heirs of Heaven, how infinite-
ly will our obligations increafe, fince we are not only freed
from fo great evils, but enriched with unfpeakable benefits,
and our nature honoured by his favours, above that of an-
gels? All is marvellous, all is great, all is tranfcendent in
this unspeakable goodness. The work itfelf is tranfcendent,
the manner and love, by which it was performed, is tranf-
cendent. The evils, from which it frees us, are eternal;
whofe greatneſs, though it were not otherwife to be known,
might in this fufficiently appear, that to free us from fo many
evils, and crown us with fo many goods, it was neceflary
that he who was eternal, fhould make himself temporal, and
fhould execute this great and ftupendous work, fo much to
his own lofs.
1
i
CA P. IV.
The bafenefs of Temporal-goods, may likewife appear by the
Paffion and Death of Chrift Fefus.
THE greatnefs of eternal goods and evils, is by the in-
carnation of the Son of God, made more apparent unto
us than the fun beams; fince for the freeing us from the one,
and gaining for us the other, it was neceffary, fo great a
work thould be performed, and that God judged not his
whole omnipotency ill employed, that man might gain eter-
nity. Yet doth not this great work fo forcibly demonftrate
unto us, the bafenefs of things temporal, and the contempt.
which is due unto them, as the paffion and death of the Son
of God, which was another work of his love, another excels
of his affection, another tenderness of our Creator, and a
moſt high expreffion of his good will towards us: Wherein
we ſhall fee how worthy to be defpifed, are all the goods of
the earth, fince to the end we might contemn them, the Son
of God would not only deprive himlelf of them, but to the
contrary, embraced all the evils and incommodities this life
was capable of. Behold then, how the Saviour ef the world
dif-eſteemed temporal things, fince he calls the best of them,
and
CAP. IV.
431
the Temporal and Eternal.
and thofe, which men moft covet, but thorns: and to the
contrary, that which the world moft hates and abhers, he
qualifies with the name of bleffings, favouring fo much the
poor, who want all things, that he calls them bleffed, and
fays, Of theirs is the kingdom of Heaven. And of the rich,
who enjoy the goods of the earth, he fays, It is harder for
them to enter into Heaven, than for a Camel to pass the eye of
a needle. And to perfuade us yet more, he not only in words
but in actions, chofe the afflictions, and defpifed the profpe-
rity of this life; and to that end would fuffer in all things,
as much as could be fuffered. In honour, by being reputed
infamous: In riches, by being defpoiled of all, even to his
proper garments: In his pleaſures, by being a fpe&acle of
forrow, and afflicted in each particular part of his moft facred
body. This we ought to confider feriouſly, that we may
imitate him in that contempt in all things temporal, which
he principally expreffed in his bitter death and paffion.
This he would have us ftill to keep in memory, as condu-
cing much to our fpiritual profit, as an example which he
left us, and as a teftimony of the love he bore us, leaving
his life for us, and dying for us a public death, full of fo
many deaths and torments. Tigranes King of Armenia (m),
together with his Queen, being prifoners unto Cyrus, and
one day admitted to dine with him, Cyrus demanded of Ti-
granes, What he would give for the liberty of his wife; to
whom Tigranes anfwered, That he would not only give his
kingdom, but his life and blood. The woman not long af
ter requited this expreffion of her husband. For being both
restored to their former condition. One demanded of the
queen, What the thought of the majesty and greatnefs of
Cyrus; to whom he answered, Certainly I thought not on
him, nor fixed mine eyes on any but him, who valued me
ſo much, as he doubted not to give his life for my ranfom.
If this lady were fo grateful, only for the expreffion of her
hufband's affections, that he looked upon nothing but him,
and neither admired nor defired the greatnefs of the Perfians,
What ought the fpoufe of Christ to do, who not only fees
the love and affection of the King of Heaven, but his deeds:
not his willingness to die, but his a&ual dying a moſt horrid
and cruel death for her ranfom and redemption? Certainly
the ought not to place her eyes or thoughts upon any thing,
but Christ crucified for her. Sabinus alfo extols the loyalty
(m) Zenophou in Cyro, lib. 3.
and
432
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
and love of Ulyffes, to his wife Penelope, in regard that Circe
and Calypfo promifing him immortality, upon condition that
he ſhould forget Penelope, and remain with them, he utterly
refused it, not to be wanting to the love and affection he
owed unto his fpoufe, who did alfo repay it him with great
love and affection. Let a foul confider, what great love and
duty it owes to its ſpouſe Chriſt Jefus, who being immortal,
did not only become mortal, but died alfo a moft ignomini-
ous death. Let us confider whether it be reaſonable, it
fhould forget fuch an exceffive love, and whether it be fit,
it should ever be, not remembring the fame, and not thank-
ful for all eternity, hazarding to lofe the fruits of the paffion
of its Redeemer, and fpoufe Chrift Jelus Upon this, let
thy foul meditate day and night; and the fpiritual benefits,
which he will reap from thence, will be innumerable. Al-
bertus Magnus (n) uſed to ſay, That the foul profited more
by one holy thought of the paffion of Chrift, than by reci
ting every day the whole Pfalter, by fafting all the year on
bread and water, or chaftifing the body, even to the effufion
of blood. One day amongst others, when Chrift appeared
unto St. Gertrude, to confirm her in that devotion fhe had to
his paffion, he ſaid unto her: behold daughter, if in a few
hours, which I hung upon the Crofs, I fo enobled it, that
the whole world hath ever fince had it in reverence, how
fhall I exalt that foul, in whole heart and memory I have
continued many years? Certainly it cannot be expreffed,
what favour devout fouls obtain from heaven, in thinking
often upon God, and thofe pains, by which he gained for
us eternal bleffings, and taught us to defpife things temporal
and tranfitory.
But that we may yet reap more profit, by the holy re-
membrance of our Saviour's paffion, we are to confider, that
Chriſt took upon him all our fins: and being to fatisfy the
Father for them, would do it by the way of fuffering; for
which it was convenient, that there fhould be a proportion,
betwixt the greatneſs of his pains, and the greatneſs of our
fins. And certainly as our fins were without bound or limit,
fo the pains of his torments were above all compariſon :
The wing us by the greatnefs of thofe injuries, he received in
his paffion, the greatness of thofe injuries we did unto God,
by our inordinate pleafures. We may alſo gather, by the
greatness of thoſe pains and torments, which were inflicted
(n) Lud. de Ponte. P. 4. in Introduc.
upon
1
CAP. IV.
433
the Temporal and Eternal.
upon him by the Jews and hangmen, the greatnefs of thofe
which he inflicted upon himself; for certainly thofe pains,
which he took upon himſelf, were not inferior to thofe he
received from others. But who can explicate the pains,
which our Saviour wounded by the grief he conceived at
our offences, took upon himself? For fuch is the malice of
a mortal fin, that, if we did but know it as it is, our hearts
would burſt with grief, and we could not ſuffer it and live;
and therefore may have been known to die fuddenly by the
violent apprehenfion of their fins. St. Vincentius Ferrerius
(0) writes of a certain light woman, who going to a fermon
decked and adorned in all bravery, when he heard the
preacher with great zeal and fervour, fet out the heinoufnels
of the fin of difhonefty, fhe with meer grief and compuneti-
on fell dead in the place; and a voice was heard: he was
in heaven. The fame St. Vincent being in Zamora, two
condemned perfons were led forth to be burned for their fil-
thinefs. The faint drawing near to them, fo laid open the
deformity of their fin, that they both died in grief in the
way to execution. Another time the fame faint hearing the
confeffion of an incestuous perfon, fo moved him to contri-
tion, that he died at his feet. If then the grievoufneſs of fin
be fo great, as the grief of it brings death upon them who
truly apprehend it, what ſhall we think of the grief of Chriſt,
who perfectly knew the heinoufnefs of fin, and took upon
him all the fins of the world, and grieved for every one of
them, as if he himſelf had committed it? Who can declare
or imagine the grievousness of his refentment, when he faw
his Father (whofe honour he defired and endeavoured even
from his very bowels) to be injured after fo many and fo
horrid manners? Grave Divines affirm (p), that the grief
which Chrift fuffered for the fins of men, was more vehe-
ment and intenſe, than all other griefs, what objects foever
they have, or can have by ordinary power either in man or
angels, Which afflictions he ſuffered all his life: and there-
fore one of the Pfalms fays; He was in labours from bis
youth; which another lection reads; He was agonizing and
exbaling bis foul. It was a cuftom among the Jews, that
hearing any to blafpheme or injure God, they tore their
garments in fign of grief. What grief did then the Son of
(0) Vincent. Serm. 6. Poft invocavit. Fra. Francifco. Diego.
en la Hift. de la. Prov. de Aragon 1. 2. c. 6.
(p) Suar. in 3. p. to. 2. difput. 33. Sec. 2.
Iii
God
434
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
God endure for all the blafphemies and injuries committed
by the whole world against his eternal Father? Certainly he
tore not his garments, but his body, and poured forth his
faered blood at a thoufand fountains, before he ſubjected it
to the power of his enemies, revenging the fins against his
Father upon his own perfon, and tormenting himself for our
fins before he was tormented by others. Such was the zeal
of the glory of God, which burned in his breaſt, that he
would not pardon himself, to the end he might obtain par-
don for man. If the zeal of Phinees was fo great, that be-
holding two perfons commit a fin, he could not contain
himself from revenging it even with their deaths; If that of
Elias took away the lives of fo many falie Prophets, and
Mofes purpled his hands in the blood of his people, caufing
fo many thouſands of them to be flain: What ſhall be the
Zeal of Chriſt at the fight of the fins of all the world? how
vehement his defire, that God fhould be revenged? and
fince he would revenge them upon himſelf, what grief and
anguiſh did he endure for the fins of the whole world? Cer-
tainly no words can poffibly exprefs it. But not contented
with thoſe he gave himſelf, he would fubje&t himſelf alſo
to thoſe which he received from others, which certainly
were no fmall ones, but fuch as were proportionable to his
burning-zeal, and therefore beyond utterance painful and
fevere. Yet thofe, though rigorous and great, were fhort of
that interior grief, which he took upon himself; for thoſe
were inflicted by the rage and madneſs of the Jews, but
theſe by his own zeal and charity; and therefore by how
much his love was greater, than the hatred and malice of
his enemies, by fo much greater was the grief of his heart
than that of his fenfes, and than thoſe pains which he fuf-
fered in his facred body. But it is fit we ſhould alſo often
reflect upon the greatness of thoſe, which were more parti-
cularly fuffered for our example, that we may thence learn
to defpife the goods of the earth, which we fee charged with
fo many evils, and avoid all forts of fins, fince our fweet Sa-
viour took their punishments upon himfelf in fo high a
degree.
§. 2.
Wherefore as Chriſt our Redeemer fuffered for the fin of
nran, which is totally evil in itself, and all the circumftan-
ces, as we have already difcourfed: fo his paffion was like-
wife
!
CAP. IV.
435
the Temporal and Eternal.
wife every way moft grievous and painful, as we fhall per-
ceive in obferving thofe feven circumstances noted by Tully.
First, behold who it is that fuffers. It is he who deferves it
leaft. He who is innocency itfelf: He who is a perſon as
holy, as the holy fpirit of God: He who is the offended par-
ty; yet fuffers for the offender: He who is Lord of all: He
whom the Seraphins acknowledge and adore: He who hath
done innumerable benefits for his very enemies: Our Father
who created us and made us of nothing: A man moſt deli-
cate for the vivacity of his fpirits, and the perfection of hist
temper. All this mult needs augment his grief, as being a
perfon of fuch worth and innocence, as he deferved it leaf,
and of fo temperate and perfe&t a complexion, as he felt it
moft. This circumftance of the perfon, who fuffered, is
recommended to our confideration by the Apoſtle, when he
fays (q); Think upon him, who fuftained fuch contradiction
from finners against himſelf; For he it is, who now fits at the
right-hand of the Father, who died betwixt two thieves.
Think who it is, that was allowed no place on earth, but
hung upon a tree in the air; It is He, who is to judge the
hiving and the dead. Think who it is, who ſuffered upon
the Cross; it is He, who is life eternal. Think who it is,
who permitted himself to be apprehended, whipped, crucifi-
ed; it is He, who made the earth to tremble, and cauſed fire.
to iffue out of the fanctuary, and confume thoſe who obeyed
not his holy word and law.
The fecond circumſtance is, What it was he fuffered.
Certainly more than was ever fuffered by man; injuries, af-
fronts, inhumane and cruel torments: He ſuffered fuitably
to his infinite charity, and that burning thirst he had to fuf-
fer for man. So exceffive were his pains, that the rocks
clove in funder in their prefence, the mountains funk, the
clements trembled, the heavens cloathed themſelves in
mourning, the fun and moon were darkened, and the an-
gels of peace wept. So great they were, that the very ap
prehenfion of them, made the Son of God fweat drops of
blood; fo many in number, that it is held to be known by
revelation, they were ninety feven thoufand, three hundred
and five. And afterwards in time of his paffion, he fhed
from his facred eyes, as Peter Calentinus writes, to the num
ber of feventy-two thoufand, two hundred drops of tears;
and this for our fins, begging the eternal Father for pardon
(4) Heb, 12.
and
436
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
And
and our falvation (r). The lafhes he received from thofe
barbarous fellows, paft in number five thousand. Some fay,
it was revealed to St. Bernard, how they amounted to fix
thouſand fix hundred and feventy fix. Lanfpergius writes,
that a fervant of God understood from heaven, that if one
for the space of twenty years should every day fay, an bun-
dred times the Lord's-prayer, in reverence of thoſe fripes
our Saviour received, for every drop of blood would corref
pond one prayer; and according to this account, thoſe drops
amount to ſeven hundred and thirty thousand five hundred.
He that has numbered the multitude of the flars, the fands
of the fea, the drops of rain, might well keep an account
and give alfo an exact knowledge of the aforefaid numbers,
as being of more account. The crown of thorns was ano-
ther torment very cruel, of which St. Anfelme fays, that it
pierced his venerable head with a thouſand wounds.
who can express the unspeakable torment of hanging upon
the Crofs, the whole weight of his body, fuftained by his
nailed hands and feet? Finally fo ftrange and horrible were
his pains, that not only to fuffer them, but even to imagine
them, caufed St. Lidwine to bewail them even with tears of
blood. Cantipratenfis (s) writes of a devout perfon, who
died of meer forrow upon confideration of the exceffive tor-
ments undergone by the Son of God. And there is no doubt
but the bleffed Virgin, if it had not been for her eminent
conftancy, fortified by divine grace, as Albertus Magnus (1)
faid, had expired in thofe tears of blood fhe poured forth
at the foot of the Crofs. And if the fword of grief, which
pierced the heart of the Mother, was fo fharp, what was the
grief of the Son? The paffion of torments was in him real,
in her but for his fake; and certainly the compaffion he had
of us finners, was greater than the compaffion fhe could have
of him. And if the grief of the Virgin was fo terrible, that,
as St. Anfelme (u) fays, all the torments endured by all bo-
dies whatſoever, were in compariton of it little or nothing:
And St. Bernard thinks that her pains were a thouſand
times
(y) In lib. infcrip. Fauftus annus. Joan. Aquilan. Serm. de
Paff. Lanfperg. tom. 5o. de Paff. Anfel. in Spec. Evan. Ser. 1.
c. 22. Vide Joan. Bug. p. 2. c. 7. & p. 3. c. 3.
(s) Cantip. 1. 1. c. 25.
(t) Albert. Mag, ſuper Miſ.
(u) Anfel. de Excels. Virg.
CAP. IV.
437
the Temporal and Eternal.
times double to thoſe of child-birth: And St. Bernardine (x)
exceeding all this is confident, that if the grief of the Vir-
gin were divided amongst all the creatures that can fuffer,
all would fuddenly die as uncapable of it: If fuch then and
fo great were the pains of the Virgin, what ſhall be faid of
thole which Chrift fuffered and felt, fince no forrow was as
his, no pain could ftand in competition with his? If then in
torment he ſuffered fo much, as none but he could fuffer, in
honour and repetition he fuffered no lefs, and in all man-
ners, that the fury and envy of his enemies, affitted by the
devils could invent. And if he ſuffered fo much by the paf-
fion of his torments, he fuffered much more by the compaí
fion of our offences.
Thirdly, the grief of his pain was much augmented by
the place where he fuffered, which was the court of Judæa,
a place where he had heretofore been much efteemed: and
of late received in triumph as a man come from Heaven :
And certainly to paſs fuddenly from one extream to another,
from the height of honour to the bottom of contempt and
fcorn, encreaſes much our afflictions; For he became the
moſt infamous man in the world, arraigned and condemned
to fuffer between two thieves, in a public place defigned for
wicked perfons and murtherers, and in the prefence of his
Mother, which doubled the grief of his heart
Fourthly, the perfons by whom he fuffered, was a great
aggravation unto his grief. It was by them of his own na-
tion, fuch as he had favoured with infinite benefits: and
finding fome compaffion in ftrangers, he found none in his
country-men; The rage and madnefs, where with his ene-
mies defired his death, being fuch, as the fcripture compares
them to dogs, wild beafts and unicorns.
The fifth circumftance, and that which most increaſed
his forrow, was, To fee thofe exceffive pains and torments
mif-beſtowed, fore feeing that the greatest number would.
not benefit themselves by them. For as the hope of profu,
which is a main end in all our labours, is a great comfort
unto us, fo the deſpair of it as great an affliction. And Chriſt
our Redeemer fuffering, that his merits, blood and paffion,
might profit all men, when he knew that the hundredth
part would not lay hold of it, and that innumerable perfons
would prove ungrateful, for fo great a benefit, it was a grief,
which
(x) Bernard, de lament. Virg. Bernardin. Ser. 61. art. 3. ca. 2.
438
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
J
which beyond all apprehenfion, pierced his tender and mott
loving heart.
Sixthly, the manner of his fuffering was moft grievous.
For it was by being generally abandoned of all things, not
having any thing whatfoever to comfort him. His own
people procured his death with great injuftice, the Gentiles
executed it with as great cruelty, and the Prieſts and the
learned in the law, were the leaven that fowred the whole
lump. The princes blew the coals, and kindled fuch a Aame
in the people, as could not be quenched with thoſe infinite
injuries and affronts, which were heaped upon him; nor
were they fatisfied with feeing him hang upon the Crofs,
whom they had fo unjustly punished, but rent his very bow-
els with their taunts and fcoffs. And which was more than
all, even in his own difciples, which he had bred up in his
own fchool, he found little firmnefs and loyalty. Amongit
his twelve choſen Apoftles, one fold him, and became the
captain of thofe who apprehended him: Another, unto
whom he had given the principality over the reft, denied
him thrice before his face, curfing himself, if he knew him,
and the reft forfook him in the power of his enemies. O
never to be paralleled example of the inconftancy of humane
things, and of the conftancy which a chriftian ought to pre-
ferve in all events! What felt that bleffed heart of our Sa-
viour, when he ſaw himſelf furrounded by fo many enemies
and fo few friends left him? Of him it was truly written;
My beart became as melted wax in the midſt of my bowels.
True it is, that his bleffed Mother, when he could neither
affift or defend him, yet forfook him not; but alas! her
prefence did not migitate, but encreafe his torrow. The
eternal Father, who could only help him, would not then
appear for him, but gave him over to luffer with all rigour
at the pleafure of his enemies: which was the more tenderly
reſented, as I may fay, by our bleffed Lord, because his
enemies caft it in his teeth, faying, He trufted in God; let
him deliver bim, if he will have him. But for all this his
Father would not then free him, or afford him any. comfort,
which our Saviour moft lovingly complained of, when he
faid; My God, my God, why haft thou forsaken me? Even
a cup of water failed him to quench his fcorching thirt: fo
as the whole manner of his paffion, was the moſt grievous
and opprobrious that could be imagined.
Lafly,
CAP. IV.
439
the Temporal and Eternal.
ous.
Laftly, the time of his paflion made it much more griev-
It was the eve of the paffover, when the whole nation
was aflembled, when there was the greatest concourie of
people to behold him. It was at a time, when he was known
to all by the fame of his great works and miracles. It was
in the flower of his age; and O what pity was it to behold
fo flourishing, fo beautiful, fo excellently compofed a body,
reduced by the grievoufneſs of his torments, to fuch an exi-
gent, that, as the fcripture fays, his tongue ftuck to the pal-
lat of his mouth, fo fallen in flefb, that all his bones might
be numbered, the whole ftructure of his body fo difcompoled
that he became as melted wax, or fpilt-water, refolved into
the duft of death: dry as a piece of an earthen-pot, info-
much as he ſeemed a worm, and not a man, the ſcorn of
the people, and fhame of humane nature.
It is also worthy
our admiration, that in that fhort procefs of the paffion of
Chrift, he fuffered fo many griefs and pains, in fo many
kinds, and with fuch circumstances to aggravate them, as
no man in the whole fuccefs of time fince, hath fuffered any
fort of calamity or adverfity, which our Redeemer did not
then ſuffer in a more bitter manner.
In all circumſtances were the pains of Chrift moft griev-
ous, becauſe in all circumſtances the offences of men were
moſt heinous. It was convenient that he, who came to do
us all good, fhould fuffer fo much evil: that he, who had
no fin of his own, fhould undergo the puniſhment due unto
the fins of others: and that he, who was infinitely good,
fhould fuffer the evil of fo much grief and torment, to the
end, we might be inftructed that thofe are not evils, which
the world fears, but thoſe which fin brings along with it:
and that the goods of the world are ſo far from being real
goods, that they are rather to be eſteemed as evils, fince the
Redeemer of the world deprived himself of the goods, and
burthened himſelf with the evils, to the end, that we imita-
ting in our lives his moft precious death, might deſpile all
temporal goods, which are fo fhort and falſe, that even the
evils of the world are more true and real goods than they.
Let us then be afhamed, [feeing Chrift in fo much forrow]
to feek after pleafures. Let us have at least as great refpe&
unto our Redeemer, as Etbay the Getbite had to David, who
when the holy King fled from his fon Abfalon, and perfuaded
him not to follow him in that dangerous condition, made
him this answer; "The Lord live, and my Lord the King
6 live,
440
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
"
"live, in what place foever thou shalt be, either dead or
alive, there alfo fhall thy feryant be." If this was fpoken
by a ſtranger, what ought to be the loyalty of a natural fub-
je&t? Let us bear that faith unto our Saviour, which Urias
did to Joab his General, when he faid, "The ark of God,
and Judah, and Ifrael lodge in tents, and my Lord Joah,
"and the fervants of my Lord remain upon the earth, and
"ſhall I enter into my houfe, and eat, and drink, and fleep
"with my wife? by thy health, and the health of thy foul,
"O King, I will do no fuch thing." If Chrift remain up-
on the Croſs and in forrow, how comelt thou to feek for
caſe? If Christ be poor, why doſt thou abound? If Chriſt
fuffer, why dost thou pamper thy fleſh? If Chriſt humble
himſelf, why dost thou fwell in pride? If Chrit be in afflic-
tions, why art thou in delights? Remember what he taught
thee from the Crofs, and esteem only that, which he fo
much valued, as to deprive himself of the tranfitory goods.
of this life. Confider the afflictions and penance, which
the most innocent Jefus took upon him for thy fins, that
thou mayeft undergo fome for thyfelf. When the Jews
were freed from the captivity of Babylon, Efdras knowing
the great fins they had fallen unto, by their converfation
with the Gentiles, out of a fenfe and feeling of their tranf
greffions, rent his garments, and tore his hair off his head
and beard, afflicted himſelf, and abftained from food, pray-
ing unto the Lord, and weeping for the fins of the people;
which refentment and penance of his, for the fins of others
fo moved the Jews, that they began to weep and do penance
themſelves for their own fins, and that with fo great com-
pun&tion, that they trembled for forrow, and publicly con-
feffed their offences. Why are not chriftians then moved
with forrow and repentance, when they behold not an Ef
dras, but the Son of God, ſo over-charged with grief and
forrow for the fins of the world, that he diftilled drops of
blood from the pores of his bleffed body, and rent his gar-
ments, not of wool, but of his facred humanity, which he
willingly offered to be torn with fcourges, thorns and nails,
fuffered himſelf to be plucked by the hair of the head and
beard, and his facred face to be buffetted and fpit upon,
would not taste, eat, or drink any thing but gall and vine-
gar, weeping from the Crofs for the fins committed by us
wretches? Let us then weep, afflict ourſelves, and do pen-
ance for our own fins, fince we ſee our innocent Saviour
did
CAP. IV.
441
the Temporal and Eternal.
did it for the fins of others, that imitating him in fubmitting
ourſelves to thoſe temporal afflictions, we may be partakers
of his eternal glory.
§. 3.
Thoſe ſeven circumſtances, which ſo much aggravate the
pains and torments of our Saviour Jefus Chrift in his paffion,
ought to pierce our very hearts and fouls with grief and
forlow. But if they ſhould not prevail with us to defpife
the world, and love him only who fo infinitely loved us,
yet there are other circumstances, which with new obligati-
ons will not only move, but force us, if we be not more hard
than ſtones, to love and die for him. Whom would not the
fweet manner of his paffion move, feeing the Son of God,
fuffer with fo much love and patience, without complaint of
any thing, loving us with that fervour, that what he did,
feemed little unto him, ready, if it had been neceffary, to
fuffer as much more for us? yea, fuch was his burning cha-
rity towards mankind, that if there had been no other way
left for our redemption, he would not have refuſed to conti-
nue in thoſe bitter torments, till the day of judgment. The
affection of Jeſus Chriſt, what gratitude doth it not deſerve?
And if in benefits the good will, wherewith they are con-
ferred, is moſt to be eſteemed, when the benefit is infinite,
and the will of infinite love, what ſhall we do? If, when that
traitor, who murthered Henry the Fourth King of France,
was justly ſentenced to thoſe cruel torments wherein he died,
the first begotten fon of the dead King, and heir unto hist
kingdom, had cloathed himſelf in the habit of the murther-
er, and offered to be torn in pieces for him, and to die, that
he might be freed from his torments, and not only offered
but actually performed it, What love and thanks would the
prince deſerve from that Caitiff? O King of glory, and only
begotten Son of the eternal Father, in as much as lay in us,
we were defirous to murther thy Father, and to deſtroy his
Divine-effence and being, and therefore were most worthy
of death and eternal flames. But thou wert not only willing
to die for us, but effectually gaveft thy blood and life, with
fo inhumane torments for us, and wert prepared to fuffer
more and greater for our good. How fhall we repay fo great
a love? what thanks, what gratitude for fo immenfe a bene-
fit? Let us alſo confider, What we ourſelves are, for whom
Kkk
he
442
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
he fuffered. For he ſuffered not for himself, or becauſe it
imported him: he ſuffered not for another God, nor for
ſome new creature, of a fuperior nature to all thoſe who now
are not for a Seraphin, who had faithfully ferved him for
an eternity of years, but for a miferable vile creature, the
lowest of all thofe, which are capable of reafon, compofed
of dirt, and his enemy. This ſhould make us more grate-
ful, that God fuffered fo much for us, who leaft deferved it.
To this may be added, that he ſuffered thus much for us,
not that his fuffering was neceffary for our redemption and
freedom, out of the flavery of fin, but took upon him all
theſe pains and torments, only to fhew his love unto us, and
to oblige us to imitate him, in the contempt of the world,
and all humane-felicity. Let us then behold ourſelves in
this mirrour, and reform our lives. Let us fuffer with him,
who fuffered fo much for us. Let us be thankful unto him,
who did us ſo much good, and fo much to his own coſt.
Let it grieve our very fouls, that we have offended fo good
a God, who fuffered fo many evils, that we fhould not be
evil. Let us admire the Divine-goodness, who being the
honour of angels, would for fo vile a creature, abaſe himſelf
to the reproach of the Crofs. Let us love him, who fo truly
loved us.
Let us put our trust in him, who without afking,
gave us more than we durſt deſire. Let us imitate this great
example, propoſed unto us by the eternal Father, upon
Mount Calvary. Let us compole our lives conformable un-
to the death of his Son our Saviour, in all humility, and
contempt of temporal felicity, that we may thereby attain
the eternal that humbling ourſelves now, he may exalt us
hereafter that fuffering here, he may in his good time
comfort us; that taſting in this life what is bitter, we may
in the other be fatiated with all fweetness: and that weeping
in time, we may rejoice for all eternity; To which end out
Saviour faid, unto the great imitator of his paffion, St. Fran-
cis: Francis, take thofe things that are bitter, in lieu of
thoſe that are ſweet, if thou intendeft to be happy. And
accordingly St. Aufline (y): " Brethren, Know that after
the pleaſures of this life are to follow eternal lamentati-
ons: for no man can rejoice, both in this world and the
And therefore it is neceffary, that he who will
"poffefs the one, fhould lose the other. If thou defireft to
rejoice here, know that thou shalt be banished from thy
"' celestial
"" next.
(y) Auguf. Ser. 11. ad fra.
CAP. V.
443
the Temporal and Eternal.
celeftial country; but if thou shalt here weep, thou shalt
" even at prefent be counted as a citizen of Heaven." And
therefore our Lord faid: Bleed are those who weep, for
they shall be comforted. And for this reafon, it is not known
that our Saviour ever laughed; but it is certain, that he oft-
en wept; and for this reafon, chofe a life of pains and trou-
bles, to fhew us, that that was the right way to joy and
repoſe.
CA P. V.
i
The Importance of the Eternal, because God bath made bim-
jelf a means for our obtaining it, and bath left bis moſt boly
Body as a pledge of it, in the Blefed Sacrament.
A
NOTHER most potent motive to induce us, to the ef-
timation of what is Eternal, and the contempt of what
is Temporal, is, That God hath in the moſt holy and ve-
nerable lacrament of his body and blood, made himſelf a
means, that we might attain the one, by defpifing the other;
Which holy mystery was inftituted, that it might ferve as a
pledge of thofe eternal goods: and therefore the holy church
calls it a pledge of future glory; and that it might alſo ſerve.
us as a Viaticum, whereby we might the better paſs this
temporal life, without the fuperfluous ufe of thoſe goods,
which are fo dangerous unto us: Our Lord bestowing this
divine bread upon us chriftians, as he did that of manna
heretofore unto the Hebrews. And therefore as we gave a
beginning unto this work, with a prefentation of that tem-
poral Manna, which ferved as a Viaticum, unto the children
of Ifrael in the wilderneſs, fo we will now finifh it, with the
truth of this spiritual Manna of the bleffed facrament, which
is a pledge of the eternal goods, and given as a Viaticum
unto chriftian people, in the peregrination of this lite.
Let a chriftian therefore know, how much it imports him
to obtain the eternal, and with what earnestnefs his Creator
defires it; that having obliged us by thoſe high endear-
ments, of his incarnation and paffion, in fuffering for us fo
grievous and cruel a death, would yet add fuch an excess of
love, as to leave himſelf unto us, in the moſt bleſſed facra-
ment,
444
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
Į
ment, as a means of our falvation. Who fees not here the
infinite goodneſs of God, ſince he, who as God omnipotent,
is the beginning of all things, and as the chief good of all
goods, and most perfect in himself, is likewife their utmoſt
end, would yet for our fakes, make himſelf a medium, which
is common to the creatures, and argues no perfection? Our
Lord glories in the fcripture, that he is the beginning and
end of all: And with reafon; for this is worthy of his great-
nefs, and declares a perfection, whereof only God is capa·
ble. But to make himself a medium, and fuch a medium,
as was to be uſed according to humane will, and fubje&t to
the power and difpofe of man, was fuch a compliance with
our nature, and fuch a de fire of our falvation, as cannot be
imagined. The means of our falvation may be confidered,
either as they are on God's part, or on man's part; for both
God and man work for man's falvation. That God fhould
ferve himſelf for himſelf, in the incarnation and paffion, for
the falvation of man, was a high expreffion of his love but
yet it was God who was ferved, and who made ufe of one
of the divine perfons, for the end which he pretends of his
glory; but that man would make uſe of God for his own
glory, is beyond what we can think. What a wonder is it,
that Chrift should equal himself with water, oil and balfam ?
For as we ufe water in baptifm, to justify ourselves, in con-
firmation of balfam, to fan&ify and fortify ourselves of oil
in extreme-unction, to purify ourſelves, fo in this facrament,
we may uſe Chrift for the acquiring of greater grace; and
increaſe of holinels. A great matter then
A great matter then is the falvation of
man, fince for this purpoſe God, who is his end, was con-
tent to be his means. know not how the incomprehenfi-
ble goodneſs and charity of God, can extend beyond this.
Let man therefore reflect, how much it imports him to be
faved; Let him not ſtick at any thing that may further it;
Let him leave no stone unremoved, let him leave no means
unattempted fince God himself becomes a niean of his fal-
vation, and to that end, fubjects himself to the depofition,
and will of a creature. Let nothing which is temporal di-
vert him, fince God was not diverted by what was eternal.
If therefore to quit thy honours, deny thy pleaſures, diftri-
bute thy riches unto the poor be a means to fave thee, ftick
not at it, fince God ſtuck not at the greatnefs of his being,
which is above all, but gave himſelf for thee.
The
с
CAP. V. the Temporal and Eternal.
445
The bleffed Sacrament was alfo left us as a pledge of fu-
ture glory and eternal happinefs. For when Chrift our Re-
deemer preached unto the world, the contempt of temporal
goods, for the gaining of the eternal, and pronounced that
comfortable fentence, Bleffed are the poor in fpirit, for
theirs is the kingdom of Heaven, not faying, Theirs fhall
be, but Theirs is, giving it them in prefent: It was conve-
nient, that fince they could not then enter into the poffeffion
of those heavenly joys, which they had purchaſed with all
they had upon earth, that fome equivalent pledge fhould
now be given them in the time of their forbearance. This
pledge is the most bleffed body of our Redeemer Chrift Jefus,
Son of the living Ged, which is of greater worth and value,
than the heavens themfelves. Well may we then deſpiſe
the fading goods of this life, when we receive in hand, fuch
a pledge of the eternal. Well may we renounce the perish-
ing riches, and the pleafures of nature, when the treaſure of
grace is bestowed upon us.
The bleffed Sacrament is alfo our Viaticum here upon
earth; Whereby we are given to understand, that this life
is but a pilgrimage, wherein we travel towards eternity: and
that therefore we are not to ſtay and reft in what is tempo-
ral. And because we are neither to enjoy the goods of this
temporal life, nor yet to enter upon thole of the future, to
the end we may better fuffer the renunciation of the one,
and fuftain the hopes of the other, this bleffed Sacrament is
given us as a Viaticum: fo as the foul wandering in this
valley of tears (wherein he is not to pleafe, or detain her-
felf in the delights of the world, fince her journey is for
heaven) might have fomething to comfort her in this ab-
fence from her celestial country. Let us then confider the
value of the end, whereunto we travel, fince the journey is
defrayed with fo precious a Viaticum; and that the pleaſures
of this world, are fo prejudicial unto our ſalvation, that this
pledge is given us from heaven, to the end we fhould not fo
much as taste them. The Ifraelites in their peregrination
in the wildernefs, had Manna for their Viaticum, which
fuppled all their neceffities; for it not only ferved to fuftain
their bodies, but whilft they fed upon it, they were not ſub-
ject to infirmities, neither did their garments decay with
wearing, infomuch as having it, they had all things. All
this is but a fhadow, of our divine Viaticum: having which,
we need nothing, and being provided with fa celestial a good,
may well spare what is temporal.
§. 2.
446
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
}
§. 2.
A moſt principal end alſo of the inftitution of this moft
admirable Sacrament, is to be a memorial of the Paffion of
the Son of God: which being fo efficacious a motive unto
the contempt of things temporal (as we have already faid)
our Saviour hath almoſt in all the things of narure left us a
draught of it (z). For this reafon in the wholly throwd,
wherein his wounded body was wrapt, when they took him
from the Crofs, there remained miraculously imprinted the
figns of his paffion. For this, when loaden with his Crofs,
the pious Veronica prefented him with her vail, he returned
it, enriched with the portraiture of his facred countenance :
And, as Lanfpergius notes, the fingers of the armed foldier,
who gave him the blow, were imprinted in the fame vail.
For this, when he fell proftrate in the garden, and in a fweat
of blood, prayed unto his Father, he left ingraved upon the
ftone, whereon he prayed, the print of his feet, knees and
Shands. And not far from thence, is found another ftone,
where, after he was apprehended, the foldiers throwing him
down upon the ground, he left imprinted the end of his
toes, his hand and knees: which ſtone, as Borcardus notes,
is fo hard, as 'tis not poffible to raife, or cut any thing out
of it, even without iron inftruments and to this end, the
memory of his ineffable meeknefs and patience, fhould be
perpetual. In like manner, where he past the brook of Ce-
dron, he left another mark of his facred feet, as likewife of
the rope, wherewith they carried him tied. So firmly would
our Saviour have the memory of his paffion fixed in our
hearts, that he hath left the figns of it in the very rocks.
There hath been alfo feen an Oriental jaſper accidentally-
found, whereon the dolorous countenance of our Saviour
hath been exactly formed. And bleffed Aloyfius de Gonzaga,
walking upon the fea-fhore, found (with great content of his
fpirit) a pebble, whereon were diftin&tly figured the five
wounds of Christ our Redeemer. And not only in ſtones,
but in feveral other pieces of nature, as St. Anaftafius Sinaita
(a) oblerves, he hath left us no obfcure remembrances of
2.
his
(z) Paleot. ad Hift. de Chrift. ftigmat. Adricom 2. par defor.
Hiero. n. 44. Lanfp. hom. 19. de Paffione, Andrad. in defcri.
Terræ fanctæ. Petrus de F. A. Confil. Reg. Francif. lib. 5. în
Conft. in lib. infcrip. Fauftus. Annus.
(a) Anaft. Sinaita in Hexamer.
CAP. V.
447
the Temporal and Eternal.
his Crofs and Paffion. In the flower Granadilla, are per-
fectly repreſented the nails, pillar and crown of thorns. In
dividing the fruit of the tree Mufe, appears in fome of them,
the image of a Crofs: in others of Chrift crucified: and in
Gant, they hold in great eſteem, the root of a beautiful flow-
er, brought from Jerufalem, wherein is alſo lively repreſent-
ed a Crucifix. Neither are the elements left free from fuch
reprefentations. Aifronje the first of Portugal, beheld in the
air an Escutcheon with the five wounds; And the emperor
Conflantine the principal inftrument of the Paffion, the Cross,
which hath alfo divers other times appeared. But what
more gracious and loving demonftration of the memory,
which he defires we fhould ſtill preferve of his torments,
than the wounds which he hath imprinted upon the perfons
of many of his fervants? For befides St. Francis (b), who
was marked with the most evident figns of his favour, the
like were received by St. Gertrude and St. Lucia of Ferrara.
And what more exprefs memorial of the paffion of our Re-
deemer, than the heart of St. Clara of Monte Falco, in which
was found the image of Chrift crucified, the pillar, whip,
launce, and other inftruments of the Paffion? We should
never make an end, if we ſhould recount all thoſe ſeveral
ways, by which Chrift our Saviour, hath reprefented unto
us his death and paffion, to the end we ſhould ever have it
preſent, and fixed in our memory. But above all, the moſt
bleffed Sacrament (in which divine-mystery, the lively re-
preſentation of his death as is often repeated, as his holy
body is confecrated in the whole world) was a great demon-
ftration of his infinite love towards mankind. Wherein he
gives us to underſtand, that he defires not only once, but a
million of times to die for us, and that, though he cannot
now return again to be crucified, by reafon of the impaffibi-
lity of his glorified body, yet his divine charity hath found a
way, after an unbloody and impaffible manner to repeat the
facrifice of the Croſs, and the fruit of our redemption. How
great a gratitude do we owe our Saviour for fo infinite an
expreffion of his good will towards us? and how can we be
grateful, if forgetful of fo profitable and advantageous a be-
nefit? Let not then his paffion depart from our thoughts;
but let us rather depart from our pleaſures, and defpife all
humane felicity, finee we behold the Lord of the world in
fuch humility.
Moreover
(b) Blof. li. 15. c. 3. Tritem. in Crim. ad an. 1500. Surius
14. Aprilis. Mofc. in vita S. Claræ.
448
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
Moreover this moſt bleffed Sacrament, is not only a me-
morial of the paffion of Jefus Chrift, but of the incarnation
and wonderful work, of God and not only brings into our
memory what Chrift did, when he fuffered for us, but what
the eternal word did, when he became fleth for us: that im-
menfe God, unto whom the whole globe of the earth ferves
but as a foot-ftool, defcending from Heaven, and fo far lef
fening himfelf, as to cover that infinite majefty under the
form of a fervant; of which this Divine-facrament is a moſt
excellent and lively reprefentation. For in it allo the God
of Heaven, being already incarnate and made man, def
cends from Heaven, and vails himſelf under the accidents
of a little bread and wine, and there is, as it were, annihila-
ted for us, and become nothing. Befides, as in the Eucha-
rift, we receive Chrift crucified, fo in it alfo we receive the
word incarnate; infomuch as these two great wonders of
God, the paffion and incarnation are not only reprefented,
but as it were multiplied unto us in this bleffed Sacrament:
which was a high thought of God, and according to what
he faid by his Prophet David (c), Thou has made thy wan
ders many, O Lord. And there is none who is like unto
thee in thy cogitations. Here God made his wonders (that
is, his paffion and incarnation) many, repeating, and, as
it were, multiplying them in this bleffed Sacrament: which
was a moft high thought of him, who is the fupreme wif
dom; nor could it enter into any underſtanding but that of
the divinity, that which was fo extraordinary, and fo far
above the reach of all created capacities, as the Son of God
to be facrificed, and the eternal word to defcend from Hea-
ven and he made man, fhould become fo-ordinary and fami-
liar, as we daily fee it in the uſe of this divine mystery. But
God did not only here make his wonders many, but made
them great, as the fame David (d) cries out; How magnifi-
ed are thy works, O Lord! Tby cogitations are moſt pro-
found. For although the works of the paffion and incaina-
tion are ſo great, yet they are as it were enlarged, and made
greater by this holy Sacrament. The greatnefs of the work
of the incarnation confifted in this, that God abaſed himſelf
and was made man: and the greatness of that of the pafi-
on, in that he humbled himself unto death. But in this
Sacrament he abafes and humbles himfelf yet lower, becom-
ing food for man, which is less than to be man, or to die,
which
(d) Ibid.
(c) Pfal. 39.
CAP. V.
the Temporal and Eternal.
449
which is natural unto man. Befides this, the great fruit
of the incarnation and paffion, is after a moft admirable
manner particulary applied in this bleffed Sacrament to
every one which receives it worthily. The death and paſ
fion of Christ upon Mount Calvary, was no doubt a great
work of God; but in this mystery we behold the fame death,
paſſion and ſacrifice, after an unbloody and impaffible man-
ner, which is certainly the greater miracle, and expreffes
more the divine power. The incarnation likewife, when
the eternal word entered into the womb of a Virgin, was a
great work of God; but in this mystery, it is in a certain
manner extended and made greater; and is therefore called
an extension of the incarnation, our Lord here entering into
the breaſt of every chriftian, and uniting himſelf unto him.
Theſe are the marvels of the law of grace; concerning
which the Prophet Ifaias faid unto the Lord: "When thot
"fhalt do wonders, we ſhall not fultain them. Thou haft
"deſcended, and the mountains melted at thy prefence.
"From the beginning they have not heard, nor understood
ቅ.
with their ears, neither hath the eye feen, O God, be-
fides thee, what thou haft prepared for thofe who expect
"thee." The Prophet fpeaks of thofe wondrous works,
which were to be ſeen at the coming of the Meffias, which
were to be ſuch as the world had never heard of, nor had
ever entered into any thought but that of God; and there-
fore the Apoſtle alledging this place, faith, That the eye
hath not feen, nor the ear hath heard, neither hath it enter-
ed into the heart of man, what God hath prepared for tho's
who love him: Since over and above thole two ftupendous
wonders, of taking flesh and dying for us, he hath given
himſelf as food unto thoſe ſouls, who remain in his grace
and love him; which is fo great and marvellous a work, as
only God could think of it, and befides God none. And
as only God can truly value it, fo it is not in the power of
man fufficiently to acknowledge it: No humane heart being
able to fupport the weight of fuch an obligation, and the
greatness of the divine-love, which fhines forth in this won-
der of wonders. Tertullian (e) faid, The greatnefs of fome
goods were intolerable; which according to the Prophet
Ifaias, is verified in this divine good and benefit, which we
were not able to fupport. Wherefore it is called in holy
(e) Tertul. li. de Patien. cap. 1.
L11
fcripture,
450
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
fcripture, The good; or the good thing of God: becauſe it
is a good and a benefit, which more clearly than the fun,
diſcovers the infinite and ineffable goodneſs of God, to the
aſtoniſhment and amazement of a humane heart; and there-
fore the Prophet Ofeas fays, Thev fhall be afsnifhed at the
Lord, and at his good; becauſe this divine benefit amazes
and aſtoniſhes the foul of man, to fee how good the Lord is,
and how great the good which he communicates unto us;
All which tends to no other end than to make us defpife the
goods of the earth, and to efteem only thofe of Heaven,
which we attain unto by this divine myftery. For this there
fore did Chrift our Redeemer inftitute this moſt bleffed Sa-
crament, that by it we might withdraw our hearts from things.
temporal, and fettle our affections upon thofe which are
eternal, for which it is moft particularly efficacious, as thofe
who worthily receive it have full experience.
§. 3.
Wherefore let that foul, who goes to communicate confi.
der, Who it is enters into him, and who he is himself, who
entertains fo great a guest. Let him call to mind with what
reverence the bleffed Virgin received the eternal word,
when he entered into her holy womb; and let him know it
is the fame word, which a chriftian receives into his entrails
in this Divine facrament. Let him therefore endeavour to
approach this holy table with all reverence, love and grati-
tude, which ought, if poffible, to be greater than that of
the bleffed Mother. For then the obligation of mankind
was not ſo great, as now it is. For neither fhe, nor we
were then indebted unto him for his dying upon the Crofs.
Let him confider that he receives the fame Chrift, who fits
at the right-hand of God the Father, That it is he, who is
the fupreme Lord of heaven and earth, He, whom the an-
gels adore, He, who created and redeemed us, and is to
judge the living and the dead, He, who is of infinite wif-
dom, power, beauty and goodness. If a foul fhould behold
him, as when St. Paul beheld him, and was ftruck blind
with his light and fplendor, how would he fear and reve-
rence him? Let him know that he is not now lefs glorious
in the Hoft, and that he is to approach him with as much
reverence, as if he faw him in his throne of glory. With
much reaſon did St. Terefa of Jefus fay unto a devout foul,
unto
CAP. V.
451
the Temporal and Eternal.
unto whom he appeared after death, That we upon earth.
ought to behave ourſelves unto the bleffed Sacrament, as
the bleſſed in Heaven do towards the D vine-effence, loving
and adoring it with all our power and forces. Confider alſo,
that he, who comes in perſon to thee, is that felf fame Lord
that required ſo much reverence, that he ftruck Cza dead,
becauſe he did but touch with his hand the ark of his teſta-
ment, and flew 500000 Bethfhamites for their looking on it;
And thou not only fee'ft and toucheſt, but receiveſt him in-
to thy very bowels. See then with what reverence thou
oughtest to approach him. The Angels and Seraphins
tremble before his greatneis, and the juft are afraid." Do
thou then tremble, fear and adore him. St. John ſtanding
but near unto an angel remained without force, aftonished
at the greatnefs and beauty of his majefty, and thou art not
to receive an angel, but the Lord of Angels into thy entrails.
It adds much to our endearment of his great benefit of our
Saviour, that it is not only great by the greatneſs of that
which is bellowed, but by the meanefs of him who receives
it. For what art thou but a molt vile creature, compofed of
clay and dirt, full of mifery, ignorance, weakeneſs, and ma-
lice? If the Centurion held himfelf unworthy to receive.
Chriſt under his roof, and St. Piter, when our Saviour was
in this mortal life, deemed himſelf not worthy to be in his
Prefence, faying, Depart from me, O Lord, for I am c
finful mani and St. Jobn Baptif, thought himself not wor-
thy to unloofe the latch of his hoe, How much more
oughteft thou to judge himfelf unworthy to receive him into
thy bowels, being now in his glory feated at the right-hand
of God the Father? The angels of Heaven are not pure in
his fight: What purity ſhouldeft thou have to entertain him
in thy breaft? If a mighty king fhould vifit a poor beggar
in his cottage, what honour, what refpe&t would it confer
upon him? Behold God, who is the King of Kings, and
Lord of Lords, comes to vifit thee, not in thy houſe, but
within thyfelf. Seven years did Solomon fpend in building a
temple, wherein to place the ark of his teftament. Why
dott thou not spend fome time in making thyfelf a temple
of God himself? Nsab was a hundred years in preparing a
veffel, wherein to fave thole, who were to escape the de-
luge. Why dost thou not fpare fome days or hours, to
make thyſelf a ſacriſty for the Saviour of the world? Be-
held thy own unworthinefs, and what thou goelt about.
Mofes,
452
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
Mofes, when he was to make an ark for the tables of the
law, not only made choice of precious wood, but covered
it all with gold. Thou miferable and vile worm, why doſt
thou not prepare and adorn thyself, to receive the Lord of
the law?
Confider alfo what is the end, for which thy Saviour
comes unto thee. It is by communicating his grace, to
make thee partaker of his divinity. He comes to cure thy
fores and infirmities; he comes to give remedy to thy ne-
ceffities; he comes to unite himſelf unto thee; he comes to
deify thee. Behold then the infinity of his divine-goodneſs,
who thus melts himself in communication with his creatures.
Behold what is here given thee, and for what it is given
thee. God gives himself unto thee, that thou mayett be all
divine, and nothing left in thee of earth. In other benefits
God bestows his particular gifts upon thee; but here he
gives thee himſelf, that thou mighteſt alſo give thyself unto
him, and be wholly his. If from the incarnation of the Son
of God, we gather the great love he bore unto mankind,
paffing for his fake from that height of greatnefs, unto that
depth of humiliation, as to inclole himſelf in the womb of
a Virgin: Behold how in this he loves thee, fince to ſuſtain
thee in the life of grace, he hath made himſelf the true lopd
of thy foul, and comes from the right-hand of the eternal
Father, to enclofe himself in thy most impure breaft. Jefus
Chriſt comes alfo to make thee one body with himſelf, that
thou mayeft after an admirable manner be united unto him,
and made partaker not only of his fpirit, but of his blood.
That, which this confideration ought to work in the breaſt
of a chriflian, may appear by what a lefs than this, wrought
in the heart of a chriftian. The Emperor and Philofopher
Antoninus (f) writes, That in refpe&t we are a part of the
world, we ought to reft content and fatisfied with what ac-
cidents foever fall befal us, and to do nothing unworthy
of reafon. What ought we then to do for being a part of
Chrift? Our works certainly ought not to be only worthy
of angels but of the Sons of God.
Neither doth the manner, by which this Divine-benefit is
conferred, a little endear it unto thee. It is with fuch fin-
gular love, as is in uniting himſelf unto thee: It is in feed-
ing thee with his precious body and blood: It is by humb-
ling himſelf as much as he could for thee: It is by treading
under
(f) Anton. 1. 1.
Si 2
CAP. VI.
453
the Temporal and Eternal.
under foot the most conftant laws of nature, and working
more prodigious miracles for thee than Mofes did in Egypt.
All which is a demonftration of that infinite defire where-
with he pretends thy good, fticking at nothing that may
advance it. God gives himſelf unto thee, after the moit
eafy and facile manner for man, and after the most extraor-
dinary for God. He gives himself unto thee for meat.
Nothing is more natural for man than to eat, and nothing
more fupernatural than that God fhould ferve as meat.
Let him then, who comes from receiving his heavenly food,
confider what he owes for fo unfpeakable a benefit. Let
him make account, that Chrift feated in his heart, fpeaks
unto him after the manner he spake unto his Apoſtles, when
he had washed their feet. Thou knoweſt, O foul, what I
have done unto thee; Thou knowest the gift I have be-
ſtowed upon thee; Thou knowest the honour and favour I
have conferred upon thee; Thou knoweft what thou hast
received; Thou knoweth what thou haft within thee. Know
is thy God and Redeemer; know it is he, who defires all
good unto thee. Be therefore thankful unto him; defire
nothing of earth, but fix wholly upon what is eternal, and
thy chief good.
CA P. VI.
Whether temporal things are to be demanded of God; And
that we only ought in our Prayers, to aim at good's
etcrna!.
T
HE difference betwixt Temporal and Eternal is eafily
diſcovered, by the finall account which God makes of
granting things remporal, and the great pleafure he takes in
our demanding things eternal. The temporal is fometimes
granted as a chaftifement, The eternal as a great reward:
and were it not for the infinite merits of his Son, would not
be granted at all. For this reafon, Chriſt himſelf commands
us, that we should ask the Father in his name, affuring us,
that whatfoever is lo demanded, fhall be granted; And
when he invites his difciples to afk, he tells them, That hi-
therto they had demanded nothing: efteeming that though
indeed
!
454
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
indeed they had asked him fome things temporal, yet be-
cauſe they had not as yet demanded any thing that was eter-
nal, they had afked nothing. So as the promife of our Sa-
viour, That his Father would grant all our petitions in hist
name, is to be underſtood only, When we petition for the
eternal goods of grace and glory. The temporal is of fo
little worth, that for itfelf, or in his name, Chrift would not
have us afk it. Neither does he promiſe that it ſhould be
granted; For in the Divine-acceptance, all which doth not
conduce and help to our falvation, is reputed as nothing.
Whereupon St Auftine (g) fays; "The joy is demanded in
"the name of Chrift, if we underſtand divine grace, if we
"demand that life which is true happiness. If any thing
"elſe be demanded, nothing is demanded; fot that in re-
"ality in itſelf it is nothing, but that in comparifon of fo
great things, whatſoever be fides is defired, is to be eſteem-
"ed as nothing;" infomuch as, according to St. Aufline,
though you demand temporal things a thousand times over,
yet you demand nothing.
For this reafon many wife men have doubted, whether
we may lawfully petition God for the temporal things of the
world. I will firft deliver the opinions of the greatest Phil-
ofophers, and then how the graveft Divines have decided
this controverfy. Marcus Aurelius in the name of many
Philofophers fays, That we are not at all to demand what
is temporal, but that we are rather to pray, that we may not
eſteem or defire men; and therefore in a most prudent dil-
courſe, wherein he wants nothing of a christian, but the ac-
knowledgement of one fole God inflead of many, he thus
argues (h). "Either the Gods can do ſomething or not.
"If not, Why doft thou pray unto them? If they can,
65
86
Why doft thou not pray unto them to grant, that thou
"mayeft neither fear, nor defire the things of the earth,
not to be afflicted more with their want, than their poffel-
fion? For if the Gods are able to affist men at all, they
are able to affift them in this Perhaps thou wilt fay,
"The Gods have fubje&ted these things unto thy own pow-
Be it fo. Yet tell me : Is it not better that thou
*ſhouldeſt uſe theſe things, which are in thy power, with
freedom, than with a fervile and abje&t mind, to be folli-
citous, and afflict thyfelf for thofe things, which are not
cer.
C
(g) Auguf. Trac. in Johan.
(5) Marc. Antonin. lib. 9.
" in
CAP. VI.
455
the Temporal and Eternal.
"in thy power? And who hath told thee, that the Gods
"do not help us in thoſe things, which are fubje& unto
"us? Begin then to pray for those things, and thou ſhalt
"fee what will happen. This man prays he may enjoy
"fuch a woman: Do thou pray thou mayeft have no fuch
"defire. Another prays he may be eafed of fomething
"which troubles him: Do thou pray thou mayeſt have no
"need to be eafed. Another prays he may not loſe his
"fon: Do thou pray thou mayeſt not fear it.
Make thy
prayers after this manner, and fee what will follow." In
fo much then as it was the opinion of this Philoſopher, that
we ſhould not pray unto God for things temporal, but for
the right way of using them, which is true virtue:
Let us
alſo hear what was faid by Socrates, the most excellent of
moral Philofophers, who judged [as St. Thomas (i) relates
him] that nothing in particular was to be demanded of God,
but only that he would give us good things, becaufe God
only knows what is good and expedient for us: and men for
the most part defire and pray for thofe things which (if ob-
tained) are hurtful. This opinion is approved by St. Tho-
mas, and the rest of the Divines, in as much as concerns
temporal things, which we may ufe ill. Whereupon the
Angelical-doctor concludes, that we are not determinately
to pray for any thing temporal, but only for fpiritual and
eternal. Theſe are only thofe, which ought and may be
abfolutely prayed for; other things, as they ferve to obtain
thefe, in a fecondary way, and as much of them only as is
fufficient, and expedient for them to obtain the eternal.
It is moſt certain, that thoſe prayers, which are offered to
God only for the obtaining of things eternal, without refpe&
to any temporal or earthly commodity, are as a fweet favour
unto the Lord, like that rod of perfume ſo much celebrated
in the Canticles, compoted of incenfe, myrrh, and fpices,
which afcended fraight unto heaven. Whereupon St. Gre-
gory fays, that prayer is called that little rod of ſweet ſmoke:
becauſe, whilst it only fupplicates for eternal bleffings, it
mounts directly to heaven without inclining unto any thing
that is earthly. Well may it be ſeen how little our Saviour
is pleaſed with earthly petitions, by that anſwer he gave un-
to the wife of Zebedeus, when the defired that her two Sons
might have the honour to fit, one at the right-hand of his
Throne, and the other at the left; Our Saviour answered,
(i) S. Tho. 2. 2. q. 83. art. 5.
They
455
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
}
They knew not what they afked; becauſe, as St. Chryfoftome
fays, Their petition was for the things temporal, and not
fpiritual and eternal. Certainly a fool he is, who when he
may have heaven for afking, trifles away his time in de-
manding things of the earth. A fool he is, who when he
needs but to demand eternal glory, bufies himfelt in praying
for temporal honours. A tool he is, who having but to afk
grace from God, lofes his time in afking favours from men.
Certainly he knows not what he prays for, who prays to be
rich. He knows not what he prays for, who prays for great
places and commands Finally, who prays for honours,
accommodations, pleafures, or any thing that ends in time,
knows not what he prays for, becauſe he knows not how lit-
tle is all that which time confumes.
§. 2.
Paludanus (k) obferves three errors, in the petition of the
mother of St. James and St. John. The first, that he did
not obſerve a due order in the petition; The fecond, that
it was not clear and free from affections of flesh and blood;
And the third, that the fubje&t of it was vain and unprofi-
table. All theſe errors are found, when not attending unto
the eternal, we petition for what is temporal. For of the
firit, who fees not that he who demands temporal things,
violates and perverts all order? for what more diforderly
proceeding, than to demand little, when we may obtain
much, to fue for that, whereof we have no need, and to nes
gle& that, which is extremely neceffary? The neceffities of
the body hold no comparifon with thofe of the foul. The
foul hath more neceffity of divine-grace, than the body of
food. The foul hath more enemies: and ftands therefore
in more need of the favour and affitance of heaven.
It is
against her, that the infernal powers have confpired; and
therefore it is the, who ftands in moft neceffity of divine-
fuccour. Gelafius (1) the Pope (peaking of our first parents,
faith, That when they were in the ftare of innocency, re-
pleniſhed with all thole gifts of graces, where with God had
enriched them, and that they had not thofe adverfaries
which now we have (for neither the world nor the flesh
were then their enemies). Yet becauſe they did not pray
(k) Palud. Enarr. 1. de S. Jacobo.
(1) Gelaf, contra. Pelag. Epif. 5. lib. 6
for
CAP. VI.
457
the Temporal and Eternal.
for the divine affistance and favour, that they fell into fin.
Having received, faith this great Pope, fuch abundance of
grace, yet becauſe they did not pray, (as there is no menti-
on that they did) they were not fecure. How needful is it
then for us to pray, who want that original juſtice, have
our nature weakened and corrupted by fin, our fleſh rebelli-
ous against the foul, the world with all its inftruments of va-
nity and deceit, and ſo many occafions and dangers of fin-
ning, our enemies and the devil himself, irritated by thofe
fingular favours expreffed towards our nature, by the Son of
God, more fierce against us than before? So as it is not
poffible to declare the great need we have of divine grace.
And now to forget this great neccffity, and to forbear crying
unto heaven for a remedy, from whence we can only hope
it, how great a folly and diforder is it? If a man in the
dog-days were expofed naked in fome defert, againſt the
fcorching beams of the fun, and ready to perifh for thirst,
and ſhould meet one, who were furnished with plenty of
cool water, would he not aſk fome to refreſh him? or if he
forbore to aſk it, would he demand a warm jacket, which
were only uſeful in winter, and in ſummer a burthen and a
trouble? Certainly a greater madneſs and diforder cannot
be imagined; and yet ours is far worse, if we demand tem-
poral goods, which can only hinder and entangle us, and
neglect to pray for the water of divine grace, without which
we are certain to perish. But even in temporal things them-
felves, we know not what order to obferve in our demands:
becauſe we are ignorant which are moſt convenient for us.
Who knows whether it be better for him to be fick, or in
health: fince it may fo happen, that being in health, he
may fall into fome grievous fin, and be damned, and being
fick, he may repent and be faved? Who knows whether
poverty or wealth, may be more convenient for him: fince
being in abundance, he may forget God, and being in ne-
ceffity of all things, he may have recourfe unto his holy fer-
vice? Who knows whether it be better for him to be ho-
noured, or fuffered confufion: fince honour may puff him up
in vanity, and humiliation may make him prudent and
wary? No man knows what is good or evil for him. That
which we defire, is oftentimes our ruin and destruction, and
thoſe evils which we weep for, as often turn unto our great-
eft happineſs. How can there then be any order in our
M m m
prayers
458
The Difference betwixt
LIB. V.
prayers for temporal things, whereof we are totally ignorant
whether they are good or hurtful.
The fecond great error in our prayers for temporal things
is the inordinate affection, and want of pure intention,
which accompanies fuch petitions: whereas our prayers
ought only to proceed from a pure and mortified mind,
wholly intent upon the fervice of God. To fignify this,
The fire, which was to burn the incenfe, was fetched from
the altar of Holocaufts and that our prayers may be accep-
table, and of a ſweet favour unto God, they are to ſpring
from an enflamed heart, facrificed unto his divine Majefty
in a true Holocauft, of our whole will and affections; And
he who demands any temporal things from God Almighty
after another manner, may juſtly fear, leaſt they may be
granted for his greateft punishment. Therefore St. Thomas
(m) fays, that our Lord God grants unto finners, what they
defire, with an evil affection, for a chaftifement of their
defires. So he granted Quails unto the murmuring Ifrae-
lites, who died with the morfel in their mouths. We ought
therefore to be cautious in our prayers, and tremble at our
own defires, fince their fuccefs may prove fo dangerous un-
And I wonder not at all that he, who defires the
goods of this world, is often punished in the grant of his pe-
tition, fince it is a kind of impudence to ufe God as a me-
dium, for the obtaining of that, which does or may ſeparate
us from him, who is our chief and utmoſt end. Guigo Ca-
thufianus (n) fays, that he, who prays for temporal things,
ufes God Almighty, as the ſpouſe does her huſband, when
The defires him to bring her with his own hands fome vile
flave, with whom ſhe may adulterate. So we defiring tem-
poral goods, increaſe our affection to the things of the
earth, which make us forget the love of our Creator, and
praying for them, pray for the inftruments and occafions of
offending him. Let us not commit this treafon againſt our
Lord God, but let us afk what may redound to his glory
and our own profit, which is only that, which is fpiritual
and eternal, to wit, his grace, his knowledge, the imitation
of his Son, the contempt of the world, and what is con-
formable to his holy will. This we may tafely aſk, and
this he will certainly give us. becauſe it is for our good.
And therefore in the prayer, which our Lord himſelf hath
to us.
(m) St. Tho. 2. 2. q. 83. art. 19.
(n) Guigo Carthuf. in Medi.
taught
CAP. VI.
459
the Temporal and Eternal.
taught us, when we have faid, Thy will be done, we pro-
ceed in a bolder manner, and fay in an imperative way,
Give us this Day, our daily bread, and forgive us our tref-
pales, having then a kind of certainty of obtaining, when
we have firit comformed our prayers to the divine will; and
it is then, as Oriegin notes, a fingular confidence we have in
God, to command what we pray for.
The third error in our petition for temporal goods is,
that we pray for things vain, without fubftance or profit;
for fuch is all temporal greatnefs and felicity, fhort, vain,
inconftant, tranfitoty and unworthy the heart of man, which
ought wholly to fix upon the eternal, and trample the reit
under foot, like that mysterious woman in the Apocaltys,
who was furrounded and penetrated by the fun, which filled
the heart and bowels, but trod the moon under her feet;
the fun which perfectly circular, being a fymbol of eter
nity, and the moon, which is defective and mutable, a fi
gure of the temporal. The fun hath its own proper light:
the moon none, but what fhe borrows from the fun. In the
fame manner the eternal is a good in itſelf, and defirable
for itself; the temporal hath no good at all, but what it ac-
quires, by being a means of obtaining the eternal. Ali
humane felicity is but vanity, fmoke, thorns, deceit and
mifery. With what face can a chriftian, demand fuch fluff
from God Almighty? and fuch is all humane proſperity in
God's acceptance. Out of which confideration, St. Chryf-
oflome (0) fpeaks in this manner; " A Roman Judge will
not underſtand thy allegations, unless thou speak unto
"him in the Roman tongue. In the like manner, Chrift
"will not hear thee, unleſs thou ſpeak unto him in his own
"language, and thy mouth be conformable unto his." In
the language of our Redeemer, riches are thorns, honours
fmoke, and pleafures vipers; and therefore he who prays.
for things of this nature, prays but for fo many evils. And
as there is no Father, that, if his Son inſtead of bread, de-
manded a fcorpion, will give it him; fo God to thofe, whom
he loves and holds as children, when they ask him temporal
goods, denies them: becauſe he fees they are not good for
them. For this reafon, the honour demanded by the wife
of Zebedeas for her two fons, was denied by our Saviour
with this anſwer, That they knew not what they asked, de-
manding that for a good, which was not, and in room of
(0) Chryfoft. hom. 79. in Mat.
the
460
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
the honour, which they defired in a temporal kingdom, he
gave them martyrdom, which they thought not of, which
conduced them to real and eternal happiness.
Let us learn therefore, How and for what to pray, that
we err not in a matter of fuch importance: For if the error
be fo much greater, by how much the matter, in which it
falls, is of greater moment, an error in matter of prayer
must be most great, eſpecially having a divine-precept, and
an infallible promife, that if we demand what is neceffary
for our ſalvation in his name, we fhall not fail of obtaining
it. Let us not therefore afk that in the name of our Saviour,
for which he would not die, but that which he bought for us,
with his precious blood and life, which is the bleffings of
heaven, and our eternal felicity. For this let us figh, for
this let us pray, and let us reflect how great and faulty a
careleffneſs it is, not to pray ever for that, which imports us
fo much as Heaven, and for which only we have a certain
promiſe to be heard, and not for other things, which the
world efteems, and time confumes.
**
CA P. VII.
How bappy are those who renounce Temporal-goods, for the
fecuring of the Eternal.
Fall which hath been faid, fuffice not to make us deſpiſe
the goods of the earth, for the gaining of thofe bleffings
we hope for in Heaven; and if neither the example, nor
remonftrances of our Saviour, will ferve to make us eſteem
the eternal, and contemn the temporal, but that we will for
all this prefer the one, though little and baſe, becauſe pre-
fent, before the other, though great and immenfe, becauſe
to come: Yet let our prefent intereft, and the word and pro-
mife of the Son of God move us, which certainly, if feri-
ously weighed, will not only perfuade us to defpife, but
totally to renounce the goods of this world, as many of the
Philofophers have done, that they might more freely enjoy
the pleaſures and commodities of this life, and many faints,
for the hopes they have had of the other. Let us here call
to mind what was faid by the Saviour of the world, "Who-
❝ ivever
CAP. VII.
461
the Temporal and Eternal.
foever ſhall leave father, mothers or brothers, or fifters,
or houſe, or land, for my fake, fhall in this life receive a
"hundred fold, and after death life eternal." In which
words, we are to confider the greatness of the promiſe, and
the importance of that, for which fo great things are pro-
mifed. Without doubt it may be of high concernment, to
renounce our temporal goods, fince the Son of God invites
us to it with ſo great promiſes; and if it be convenient to
renounce them as things poisonous and hurtful to us, we
can have no excufe for not defpifing them; or at leaſt, if
we do not deſpiſe them, yet we can have no reason to love
and prefer them before the eternal. Much and extremely
much, it will concern us to defpife that, which is conveni-
ent for us to leave, and as much to pluck from our hearts,
the affection of thoſe things, which are not fit for us to pof-
fels. Neither is it much to fay, that it is advantageous for
us to renounce thefe temporal things, fince St. Bonaventure
judged it neceffary; and therefore, according to the Apoſtle,
lays, That the root of all evil is avarice, from which, and
from pride, which accompanies it, all fins have their birth,
food and increafe. Whereupon St. Auftin calls it, the foun-
dation of the city of Babylon. This covetoufnefs is feated
in the affections of the foul, as in its proper fubje&t, but is
fed, and receives nourishment from thole exterior things,
which we poffefs. Wherefore wholly to extirpate it, two
things are neceffary, not only to quit this interior thirit, and
gaping after riches, but alfo that exterior poffeffion of them.
The firft is to be done by the will and fpirit: but the ſecond
by an actual and effectual execution, and forfaking them;
and it is for this, that we are promiſed in this life a hundred
fold, and in the next, eternal felicity. O how great a dif
tance is there difcovered betwixt things temporal and eternal,
fince the only hope of the eternal, bestows more upon us
even in this life, than we can receive from the dominion and
poffeffion of all that is temporal! Temporal-goods by being
enjoyed and poffeffed, are not fo much as doubled, but by
being renounced for Chrift, are multiplied a hundred fold,
and hereafter confer the kingdom of Heaven. Abundance
of temporal goods (as hath been already obferved) hinder
and obftruct the pleaſures and contents of this life, for which
we feek them, and hereafter throw their poffeffors into hell-
flames; fo as they are not only the occafion of eternal pain,
but by anticipation of many temporal inconventencies. For,
I know
:
LIB. V.
452
The Difference betwixt
one.
I know not how it comes to pals, the moſt rich are not the
moſt contented, nor yet the leaft neceffitated. It ſeems
their goods diminish in their hands, and are of lefs value.
amongst them, than the poor: at least ten is not worth to a
rich man, ſo much as one to a poor; fo as the poor, who
have renounced their goods for Christ, find them multiplied
a hundred-fold, and the rich, who forgetting their Redeem-
er, employ themfelves wholly in heaping up wealth, find
them as much diminiſhed, and of a hundred, enjoy not
Befides, the rich are fo encumbered with cares, dan-
gers, fears, and perturbations, that they know not the true
contents of this life, and yet run the hazard of eternal dam-
nation in the other. But to the contrary thofe, who are
poor in fpirit, and have forfaken their poffeffions for Chrift,
are in this world filled with joy, peace and comfort, and in
the next enjoy the kingdom of Heaven. O how happy are
they who underſtand this, and know how to change earth
for heaven! O how truly doth Chrift call happy the poor in
fpirit, who have left all for his fake, and therefore enjoy a
double happinefs, the one prefent, and the other future:
here a hundred-fold for that which they poffefs not, and
hereafter the poffeffion of life eternal! O how happy is he,
who knows with the riches of the earth, to purchaſe the trea-
fure of glory in death, and in life to receive them a hundred
fold doubled!
This according to Abbot Abraham (p), is fully verified in
religious perfons, who have quitted all they have upon earth
to live in an eſtate of poverty: who for one Father, which
they have left, find a hundred in religion, and for one bro-
ther, a hundred who embrace them with chriftian charity,
for one poffeffion a hundred poffeffions, and for one houſe a
hundred houſes, in the multitude of monafteries founded
for their order; fo as there is no doubt, but this reward is
not only doubled under them a hundred fold, but multiplied
to a far greater proportion. The fame may be ſeen in other
fervants of God, who ferve him in voluntary poverty, who
by how much [as Bede (q) notes] they have ferved God with
more affection in renouncing their temporal goods, by fo
much hath God ſtirred up the affe&tions and liberalities of
others, to fupply and affift them in all their wants. So as
they are ferved with the goods of all, and, as the Apoftle
fays, having nothing, poffefs all.
(p) Caffian. Collat. ult. c. ult.
(q) Beda de Nat. Sancti. Benedic.
But
CAP. VIL
463
ibe Temporal and Eternal.
tr
But although this recompence fhould fail us, yet one a
hundred-fold greater than this will not fail us, which is that
noted by St. Jerome (1), "He who for our Saviour's fake
"leaves carnal things, fhall receive ſpiritual, which in com-
pariſon and value are, as if ſome ſmall number were com-
pared with a hundred." We feek the goods of the earth
for the eaſe and content of life. But if this may better and
with more advantage, be acquired by the contempt and lea-
ving them, what can we defire more? Certainly he who
quits all for Chriſt, enjoys a hundred times more content
and pleaſure, than he who flows in the greatest riches and
abundance; for (according to what hath been faid) the
goods of this life are tedious and troubleſome, even to life
itfelf: fo the freedom frbm thofe cares and incommodities,
which accompany them, eafes the heart, and makes our life
more ſweet and pleafant. Whereupon St. Chryfoftome notes,
That as the children in the midst of the fiery furnace in
Babylon, were refreſhed by a cool wind and pleaſant dew, fo
thofe, who are in poverty (which the holy fcripture calls a
furnace) are recreated by a gentle air from heaven, and the
dew of the holy spirit: and that in fo high a manner, as St.
Bernard Speaking of the Monks of Claraval, fays, That they
drew from their poverty, fafts, and auftere penances, fuch
joy and fpiritual comfort, that they were jealous and afraid,
leaft God had given them their whole and compleat reward
in this world and it feemed unto them, that having their
heaven in this life, they fhould lofe it in that to come.
Whereupon it was neceffary for St. Bernard, to prove unto
them in one of his fermons, That he did injure the grace of
the holy spirit, who placed grief in what it communicated.
Certainly the fervants of God are highly rewarded, fince
they receive even in this life fuch celeftial joys, for thoſe
temporal trifles which they have quitted. If one for a certain
weight of copper were to receive the like in gold, I believe
he would think he had made a good bargain. The like ex-
change they make, who receive thofe fpiritual joys for the
pleafures of the earth. This is fully verified in that which
happened unto Arnulpbus the Ciftercian, who being rich,
noble, and abounding with all, which the world efteems,
moved by the fermons of St. Bernard, became a Monk in
the monastery of Claraval, where after a holy life led in
much rigour and aufterity, he at laft became very infirm,
:
(c) Lib. 3, in Math.
and
464
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
and through the great grief and pains which he suffered,
would often fall into faintings and founding trances: but
ftill, when he recovered from his fits, would cry out, It is
tue, it is true, which thou haft faid, O bleffed Jefus. And
to ſome prefent, who thought the extremity of pain did make
him rave, he would fay, Brethreu, I have fpoken this in my
right judgment and fenfes; for that which our Lord promi-
fed in the gospel, That he, who for his fake fhould leave
father, mother, or goods, fhould receive a hundred-fold, and
hereafter life eternal, I now find true by experience: For
this grief and pain, which I feel, is fo fweet unto me out of
the hope I have of eternal happinets, that I would not loſe
theſe pains and this hope, not only for what I have left al-
ready, but for a hundred times more. And if to me, who
am ſo great a finner, thoſe pains which I deferve, are a hun-
dred times more fweet, than any former power and pleaſures
in the world, What are they to a juſt man, and to the zeal-
ous and devout religious? By this it evidently appears, that
Spiritual joy, though but in hope, affords a thousand times
more pleature and content, than the poffeffion of all the car-
nal and temporal delights in the world. At what this fervant
of God ſaid, all who were preſent remained aſtoniſhed, that
an ignorant man wholly unlettered, fhould underſtand and
fpeak of fo high matters.
§. 2.
The joys of the poor in Chrift Jefus, who have renounced
all for his love, fprings from two caufes; Firl from that
content, which poverty itfelf by its freedom from temporal
troubles, and the embroilments of life brings along with it.
And this even the Gentiles confeffed. And therefore Apule
ius called it merry and chearful poverty. And Seneca would
fay, That a turf of earth gave a founder fleep than wool
dyed in Tyrian purple. And Anaxagoras, (taught by expe-
rience) That he found more content in fleeping upon the
earth, and feeding upon herbs, than in down-beds, and deli-
cious banquets, accompanied with an unquiet mind. The
fecond cauſe of this joy is not the nature of poverty, but the
particular grace of God, who rewards them with the pleasures.
of heaven, who have renounced thofe of earth, and fills
with ſpiritual riches thofe, who have left the temporal. For
in truth poverty is much beloved and privileged by Chrift:
and,
:
CAP. VII.
465
the Temporal and Eternal.
and therefore he rewards the poor even in this life, with
many particular graces and favours.
Befides this, the many and great commodities, which this
contempt of earthly things brings along with it, may ferve as
a reward equivalent to a hundred, yea a thouſand fold. For
if all the world were given to efcape the committing of one
fin, it were not an equal value; and by evangelical poverty
and contempt of the world, the fins which we avoid, are in-
numerable. For by it we not only pluck up the root, but
quit the inftruments of finning. Take away abundance,
and you take away infolence, arrogance and pride, which
fpring from it, as fmoke from fire; you take away alfo the
means of committing many other fins, which riches feed
and nourish. Neither is the attaining of many virtues,
which accompany poverty, as humility, modefty, and tem-
perance, of lefs value than the avoidance of thofe fins. And
therefore it is a great truth, which St. Chryfoftome notes (s)
and ponders, That in poverty we poffefs virtues more eaſily.
Neither is it flightly to be valued, That the ftate of poverty
affifts much towards our fatisfaction for thoſe fins we have
committed, according to what is fpoken to the juſt man by
Ifaias the Prophet; I bave chofen thee (that is, I have purifi-
ed thee) in the furnace of poverty. It is likewife a great
matter to be free, and uninterested in the baſe and unprofi-
table employments of the earth, whereby the poor have time
to exerciſe virtue, to converſe with God and his angels, and
contemplate eternity.
The honour alfo and dignity to command theſe things
below, which is attained by the poor in fpirit, may well be
valued at a hundred-fold. For as it is a great baſeneſs® in
the rich to be flaves to their avarice, and to things fo vile as
riches: So it is a great honour to the poor, to exempt them-
felves from this flavery and fervitude, and to lord it over all;
and, as the Apoftle fays, by contemning all to poffefs all;
fo as there is no riches, no kingdom comparable to this of
poverty. Kingdoms have their limits and boundaries, which
they país not; but this kingdom of poverty is not ſtraight-
ned by any bounds: but for the fame reafon, that it hath
nothing, hath all things; for the heart cannot be faid to
poffels any thing without being Lord of it: and it cannot
be Lord of it without being fuperior unto it, and not that,
(s) Homil. 8. in Ep. ad Hebr.
Nan
unleſs
456
LIB. V
The Difference betwixt
unleſs it fubje& and fubjugate it unto itself. So as it is by
fo much more a poffeffor, by how much it is more Lord and
fuperior. Now he who defires to be rich, muft needs love
thofe things, without which he cannot be rich: nor can he
love them without care, follicitude and lavery; but he who
contemns them, is not only Lord, but poffeffor of them.
And for this caufe, St. John Climacus (t) faid very well, That
the poor religious perfon, who cafts all his care upon God, is
Lord of all the world, and all men are his fervants. More-
over the true love of poverty, doth not bafely cleave unto
thefe temporal things; for all it hath or can have, it relpects
nothing; and if it want any thing, it is no
is no more troubled,
than if it wanted fo much dung and dirt.
But above all rewards, is that of God, who is poffeffed by
poverty and in St. Ambroſe (u), his opinion is, that hun-
dred fold, which is received for what we leave. For as the
tribe of Levi, which had no part in the diftribution of the
land of Palestine, received this promife from God, that he
would be their fhare and poffeffion of inheritance: So with
much reafon unto thofe, who voluntarily refuſe their parts.
in the goods of the earth, God himſelf becomes their pof-
feffion, riches, and all good, even in this world; and paffes
fo much further, as to give them in the other the kingdom
of heaven. Whereupon St. Aufline (x) fpeaks in this man-
ner. "Great happineſs and felicity is that of a chriſtian,
"who with the rich price of poverty, purchaſes the precious
"reward of glory. Wilt thou fee how rich and precious it
"is? The poor man buys and obtains that by poverty,
"which the rich man cannot with all his treaſures." And
it, was certainly a moſt high counſel in our Lord God, and
an act worthy of his divine underſtanding, to make pover-
ty the price of his glory, that none might want wherewith
to purchaſe it. Wherefore many of the Saints have
een fo
enamoured of poverty, that they have purchaleu it with
more eagerness, than the rich have fled from it, and have
had this advantage over them, to be more voluntarily poor,
than the other could be rich.
17.
(t) Grad. I
(u) In Pfal. 118.
| | (x) Aug. Ser. 25. de Ver. Apoſt.
CAP.
CAP. VIII.
467
the Temporal and Eternal.
CA P. VIII.
Many whe have deſpiſed and renounced all that is Tempor al.
$%
O evident is the bafenefs of temporal goods, and the
miſchiefs they occafion in humane life fo apparent, that
many Philofophers without the light of faith or doctrine of
the Son of God, were not ignorant of it; and many fo
deeply apprehended the importance, not only of contemning
but renouncing of riches, that they lived moft contentedly
in great poverty and moderation. Ariftides, although a
principal perſon in Athens, was fo affected to poverty, that
he always went in a coarſe broken garment, hungry and
neceflitated; and though he had a friend of great wealth
called Clinias, could never be perfuaded to accept the leaft
relief from him. It happened that this Clinias being accuſed
before the Judges to aggravate his other crimes, it was laid
in his dish, that being rich and able, he had not affifted his
friend Ariflides. Clinias perceiving the Judges to be highly
incenſed, and all men to cry out against his inhumanity,
went to driftides, and defired him to defend him from that
falfe calumny, and to fatisfy the Judges and people, how
often he had offered his wealth and fortunes to ferve him,
and that it was he himself, who had ſtill refuſed it. Ariflides
did fo; and informed the Judges of the innocence of his
friend, and that it was his own defire, rather to live in his
own poverty, than to brave it in the riches of another; fay-
ing withal, That rich men, who mifpent their fortunes,
were every where to be found, but few who paffed their po
verty and want of neceifaries, with a generous mind; which
fo foon as he had declared, There was none prefent, who
envied not more the poverty and beggary of Ariftides, than
wished the wealth of Clinias. Zeno, as St. Gregory Nazian-
Zen, and Seneca write, when news was brought him, That
he had loſt all, anſwered, I fee that fortune will have me
henceforward, profeſs the life of a philofopher with lefs dif-
ficulty. Valerius Maximus reports of Anaxagoras, that when
he received the like news, all he faid was, If my goods had
not perished, I had. Cato reports of Crates the Theban,
that
468
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
:
that he flung his fubftance into the fea, faying, It is better
I drown you, than you me. Diogenes left all he had but a
wooden diſh and by chance feeing one drink out of the
hollow of his hand, broke that alfo. Laertius writes, that
one fcoffing at Efcbines a philofopher of Rhodes, faid, By
the Gods, Efchines, I am forry to fee thee ſo poor; who an-
fwered, By the fame Gods, I pity thee for having ſo great
riches, which thou haft gotten with trouble, preferveft with
care, ſpendeft with grief, keepeſt with nature, defendeſt with
a thouſand fears and paffions; and which is worst of all,
Where are thy riches, there is thy heart.
This point is fingularly well handled by St. John Chryfof
tome (y), in his fecond book, against the defpifers of a mon-
aftick-life, which he dedicates to the Philofophers of the
Gentiles, wherein he only ufes fuch reafons, as may be ap-
prehended by the light of nature, comparing Plato with
Dionyfius, Socrates with Archelaus, and Diogenes with Alex-
ander; all which he makes much more glorious in their po-
verty, than the others in all their power and dominions.
He relates alſo that of Epaminondas the Theban, who being
called to a certain council, could not come, becauſe his cloak
was in waſhing, and he had no other to wear: and yet was
more eſteemed and reverenced by the Greeks, than any of
their princes; from whence the holy doctor infers, That
when there was no evangelical-law, nor examples of faints,
yet in natural reaſon, and by natural teftimonies, poverty
was of high esteem and dignity. This being fo, as certainly
it is, what can we fay, but that it is not poverty, which we
call ſo, but great and true riches.
§. 2.
It is much to our confufion, that the Gentiles fhould fo
far deſpiſe temporal goods, not being guided by that faith of
eternity, which we profefs; which gives fo great a light un-
to the diſcovery of that diſtance, which is betwixt the one
and the other, that many whom it hath enlightened with
the beams of truth, have not only defpifed what the world
holds in eſteem, but have fought and embraced the contra-
ry, rejoicing in poverty, ignominy and aufterities, perform-
ing fuch actions to this effect, as have not fallen under ima-
ginations; whereof I fhall here relate fome admirable hiſto-
(y) Chry. lib. 2. con. Vituber, vitæ Monaft.
ries,
CAP. VIII.
469
the Temporal and Eternal.
ries, and will begin with that of Mark of Alexandria, which
we find written in certain Greek Commentaries (z). The
Abbot Daniel going with his Difciples unto Alexandria, be-
held there, in company of other fools, this Mark, who went
wholly naked, but where modefty required fomething to co-
ver him, diftributing what was given him with many fottiſh
geftures, amongst the other fools his companions. The
prudent Abbot ſeriouſly marking himself, prefently found by
that fpirit of trial, wherewith the Lord had endued him,
that his folly was celeftial wifdom, and therefore meeting
him the next day in one of the public market-places, he
endeavoured to detain him, that he might fpeak with him,
but he still counterfeiting the fool, ftrove all he could to get
looſe, and run away from him, infomuch as the venerable
old man, was fain to cry unto thoſe who were prefent, to
affift him who, feeing a Monk ftruggle with a fool, cried
out as faft to him, to beware of the mad man. At laſt fome
Priests and Ecclefiafticks, who knew the Abbot, paffing by,
afked him, What he had to do with the fool, and what he
would with him: Unto whom he answered, If you defire to
know, bring him before the Patriarch, and let him examine
what he is. They did fo; but Mark would neither anſwer
nor ſpeak a word, until the Patriarch commanded him un-
der an oath, to declare who he was, and what were his in-
tentions. Then the counterfeit fool, forced by this adjura-
tion, to leave off his diffembling, confeffed he had been a
grievous finner, and had continued in difhonefty of life fit-
teen years, but by the goodness of God, repenting his fins,
he had refolved to perform as many years of penance, and
had in a place convenient for the purpoſe, ſpent eight of
them; but defiring to pass the rest of them in greater rigour
and austerity, he came to Alexandria, there to be treated in
that manner, as they had feen him, in which he had now
continued other eight years. Those who were preſent, could
not out of tendernels refrain tears, and were much edified at
the extraordinary ways, by which the fpirit of God recalls
thole, whom he hath chofen. But their admiration was
much encreated, when the next day the Abbot Daniel, hav-
ing fent his difciple unto Mark to vifit him, and to adviſe
him to return to the filence and folitarinefs of his cell, he
found him dead, and that he had already rendered his foul
unto
(z) Ex. Cod. M. S. Græc. Biblioth. Vid. Raderum. 2. P.
opufc. fui Viridar. c. 3. pa. 79.
470
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
unto his Creator. Unto whofe interment all the Monks and
Priefts of Alexandria, with an incredible number of the peo-
ple, repaired, praifing the Lord for the marvellous works of
his providence, that whom he had chofen to be defpifed and
contemned in life, he had in this manner preserved to he
honoured in death. Who fees not in this admirable man,
a high contempt and renunciation of those three kinds of
goods, which the world fo much esteems? He fa defpifed
riches, as he had not a garment or rag to cover his naked-
nefs. He fo much contemned honour, that to the end he
might be more humbled and fcorned, he converſed with
fools, and made himſelf one of them; and fo renounced all
pleaſures, that he perfevered in perpetual fafts, forfaking and
giving away his food amongft his companions.
Let us now relate another ftory of equal fortitude in the
contempt of the world, but in a weaker fex (a). In Tha-
beuna upon the banks of the river Nilus, in a monaftery of
300 Virgins confecrated to God, there was amongst them
one, called Ifidora, fcorned, defpifed, and held for a fool by
all the reft: which fo nourished that opinion, and in fuch
manner fhewed herſelf diſtracted, that he did not for all
this, forbear fo to exereife the works of charity, and humili-
ation towards the others, as if he were a flave to each one
of them. Her employment was commonly in the kitchen,
where he made clean and waſhed the difhes. The others
upon no occaſion would ſometimes buffet her, call her fool,
fot, and mad-woman: where at the either held her peace,
or laughed like fome fimple Ninny, by which art, the freed
herſelf from fitting with the reft in the refectory, not eating
any thing but the fcraps and remainder of others. She went
always bare-foot, with her head covered with fome dirty
cloth; and although he were the ſcorn of all, yet he was
never heard to ſpeak any thing in her own defence, or ſhew
the leaſt reſentment of any thing they did unto her. At the
fame time, there lived in Porphirito (b) that great man of
penance, and of equal fame and goodness, called Pitirum,
unto whom an angel appeared, and faid, Thou haft little
reaſon to glory in thy fo many years aufterity, and obfer-
vance of a religious life. Come and thou shalt fee a maid
more wholly than thyself. Go to the Convent of the reli-
gious in Thabenna, amongst whom thou shalt find one with
(a) Ex. M. S. Græc. Hift. Patrum.
(b) Pallad. c. 42. de S. Pitirum.
a diadem
CAP. VIIL
471
the Temporal and Eternal.
a diadem, (fo the angel called that foul cloath, which the
humble virgin, that the might be more defpifed, wore about
her head) Know, faid the angel, that this maid is better
than thyfelf, her patience is daily exerciſed by a number of
women, fhe is defpifed, fcorned and treated, as if he were a
dog, and yet permits not her thoughts to be troubled or dif-
tracted from God by any thing: And thou being here alone
fuffereft thy thoughts to wander up and down the whole
world. Which aid, the angel departed; And the Abbot
Pitirum at the fame time, in compliance with what was
commanded, went towards the place appointed, and being
ſo famed for fanctity, easily obtained leave to fee the mon-
aftery. And the Abbefs, and all the Nuns came forth to
enjoy the comfort of feeing fo fingular a man for fan&ity,
as alſo to receive the benediction of the Bishop, who with
one of his deacons accompanied him. The Abbot not per-
ceiving her amongst the rest whom she fought for, demand-
ed if none of the religious were wanting; and they answer-
ing, None, replied, it is impoffible; for I fee not her,
whom the angel of the Lord fhewed me. Whereupon they
faid, There only wanted one, who was a fool, and remained
in the kitchen. The Abbot commanded her inftantly to be
fetched, which with much ado (fhe refifted all was poffible)
they did by force. The holy Abbot inftantly knowing her
by that covering, which the angel called a diadem, fell pro-
ftrate at her feet, faying, Mother, I befeech thee blefs me,
and by thy holy prayers, recommend me unto our Lord.
The other religious aftoniſhed at the accident, faid, Take
heed, Father, what you do; This is a fool, and deprived of
her fenfes. To whom the Abbot faid, It is you are fools ;
This woman is wifer than you or I; and I would to God that
at the day of judgment, I might be found in as happy a con-
dition as the. The Nuns amazed at what they heard,
kneeling at the feet of the Abbot, demanding pardon for the
injuries they had done unto the fervant of God, confeffing
their faults: One, the fcoffing at her manner of cloathing,
Another, her buffetting her, Another, her flinging water in
her face, Another, her plucking her by the nofe. In fine,
none but had done her fome affront or other. Whereupon
the Abbot returned home much comforted, and the religious
from thence-forward, gave her fuch respect, as was due unto
her virtues. But fhe, not enduring to be fo much honoured
and esteemed, left the monaftery, (for then enclosure was
not
472
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
not of obligation, as now it is) and went to fome other place
where the might be more defpifed, at leaſt her virtues not fo
much known. Who fees not here the world trodden under
foot by this religious Virgin, who lived with fuch content,
humiliation and patience, in the midst of fo much poverty,
efteeming herſelf happy in being a flave, and fcorned by
all?
Admirable like wife is that ftory related by St. Gregory of
Niffen (c), of a certain philofopher, called Alexander; who
being very beautiful of face, and of a goodly ſtature and
preſence, yet knowing by the light of faith, which perfects
philofophy, the vanity of the things of this world, and their
danger, was refolved (defpifing himfeif and thofe gifts of
nature) to live in labour and humility; And that his beau-
tiful face might neither be occafion of finning to himſelf
nor others, he went unto the city of Comana, and made him-
Telf a Collier, hoping thereby, either to be altogether un-
known, or at least forgotten. There he remained a long
time, all tattered in apparel, and his face fo black, as he
feemed as if he were a coal himſelf: infomuch as he was
eſteemed the moft vile and defpicable perfon of the whole
city. It happened that (their Bishop being at the fame time.
dead) St. Gregory Thaumaturgus came thither, intreated by
the citizens to beftow a Bifhop upon them; whereupon the
people prefented unto him the most noble and learned per-
fons of their city, that he might out of that number make
choice of whom he pleafed. But the faint advifed them,
that for fo great a dignity, as that of Bishop, they should not
only look upon thofe parts, which fhine and appear glorious
in the world, but upon virtue and fanctity. and that there-
fore they ſhould alſo prefent unto him others, although of a
meaner condition. To whom fome in a fcoffing way re epli-
ed, If fuch people be fit to be made Biſhops, let us propole
Alexander the Collier: it feeming unto them, that there was
not in all the city a meaner, or a more contemptible perfon
than ne. The Biſhop moved by God, hearing him named,
commanded him to be called, and made him Biſhop: Our
Lord caufing him, who defpifed himſelf, to be honoured of
others, and placed him, who was hidden and covered under
his own lowness and humility, upon the candleſtick of his
church. And he after proved fo excellent a Bifhop, and fo
perfc& a follower of Chrift, that he came to give his blood
(c) Nillen. in vita Thaumaturgi.
for
CAP. VIII.
473
the Temporal and Eternal.
for his holy name, joining to the crown of a moft holy life,
the laurel of martyrdom.
No lefs wonderful was that contempt of the world in
Simeon Sales (d), who living, as it is reported by Leontius
and Evagrius, in great poverty and contempt, covered as
much as he could his falts, large hours of prayer, which he
(pent with God; And to that end, when he was in public,
endeavoured to to behave himſelf, as all men might take
him for a fool, and a diftracted mad man, without the ap-
pearance of any virtue at all: fo as he was often ſeen to en-
ter taverns, and when after his great fafts, his hunger cauſed
him to eat, he would feed openly in the streets upon vile
and courſe meats; and if any of understanding by chance,
looked mote narrowly into his way of living, as fufpecting
that what he did, might be to conceal his virtues, fo foon
as he had the leaft inkling of it, he would preſently depart
to fome other place, where he might be free from knowledge
or efteem. It happened in a certain place where he was,
that one finding a maid with child, and urging her to con-
fefs who had defloured her, the to conceal the offender, laid
it upon Simeon the fool (for fo they called him). He con-
tradicted it not, but was contented for Chrift's fake, to bear
the infamy, until God was pleafed, that the true father of
the child ſhould be diſcovered; and in the mean time, had
fo much charity towards her, who had laid that fcandal up-
on him, that he being in great neceffity, and infirm of her
child-birth, he fecretly brought her to eat. But our Lord
at laſt made him venerable to the whole world, who had
made himſelf a fool, to gain the wifdom of Heaven.
There are many alſo who to avoid the opinion of ſaints,
and the honour which the people gave them, have done
things extraordinary, and ſuch as in the eyes of men ſeemed
unworthy. St. John Climacus writes, that bleffed Father
Simeon underſtanding, that the Governor of the Province
came to viſit him, as a man famous for fan&ity, took a
piece of bread and cheeſe in his hand, and fitting at the
door of his Cell, cat it in that ravenous and odd manner,
that he ſeemed out of his wits; and the Governor conceiv-
ing him to be fo, contemned him and returned home. There
lived alfo in the inner part of the defert, a venerable old
man, unto whom a difciple had affociated himſelf to learn
his fan&tity, and ferve him. Upon the fame of his holy life,
(d) Evagrius lib. 4. c. 33.
O00
a certain
474
1. I E. V.
The Difference betwixt
a certain man repaired unto him, and with tears in his eyes
befought him, he would come unto his houſe, and pray for
his fon, who was grievously fick. The hermit was content
to go along with him, but the father of the child made hafle
before, that he might in company of his neighbours, return
and meet him, and fo receive him with more honour. No
fooner did the old man perceive him a far off in this equi-
page, but preſently imagining what the matter meaned, he
ftripp'd himſelf, and plunging into a river cloſe by, began
to bathe himſelf His difciple being much afhamed of this
light action, wifhed the people to return home, For the old
man was out of his wits; And going to his maſter, ſaid, Fa-
ther, what is it thou haft done? all thoſe who ſaw thee,
thought thou wert poffeffed. To whom the holy man an-
fwered: It is well, It is that which I defired.
§. 3.
Amongſt thofe, who with Evangelical poverty have em-
braced the contempt of the world, many have been great
Lords, Princes, Kings and Emperors. Amongst the Almanes,
their Prince Charles is the moſt famous, who being rich, and
highly esteemed for his glorious actions, touched with the
defire of heavenly things, left all to his brother Pepin, came
to Rome, built a Monaftery upon the Mount St. Silvefler,
and there remained fome time a Monk; but being much
troubled with the many vifits of the city, which was at hand,
and his retirement difquieted, he left it, and went to Mont-
Caffino, where he was received by Petronace the Abbot, and
there lived with great joy and content and profited fo
much in the exercifes of humility, that it is written in the
annals of the monastery, that the Abbot appointed him, to
take care of the flock: which mean office he executed with
as great chearfulness, as if he had governed a kingdom as
before; and one of his ews by chance falling lame, he was
ſeen to carry her home upon his fhoulders, a King not dif-
daining ſo mean a fervice. We know alfo in our Spain,
that King Bamba, after he had reigned eleven years, and
performed many brave actions, deprived the Pyrates of Af-
rica of 200 fhips, and taken Paul their King, (who went
against the King of France) prifoner. The laft of his glori-
ous actions was, to cloſe himfelt up in a monaftery, where
he lived leven years in great obfervance of religion, and died
the
CAP. VIIL
475
the Temporal and Eternal.
the year 674 And was after in 786, imitated by Bermudus
King of Caftile. There is fearce any Province of Chriften-
dom, wherein fome prince hath not renounced his temporal
kingdom for gaining the eternal: inflructing us, that true
greatnels confiits in humbling ourfelves for Chrift, and true
riches in being poor, both in will and deed.
But not to enlarge myſelf too far, in renouncing the fto-
vies of thoſe many princes, who have known how to ex-
change their temporal riches for an eternal kingdom, I will
content myfelt with relating one, which includes many ex-
amples. Thomas de Cantiprato (e) witneffes, that in his
time died St. Matilda, daughter to the King of Scots, who
had four brothers. The first being a duke, defiring to be-
come poor for Chrift's fake, left his wife and fortunes, and
forfook his country. The fecond bidding alfo farewell unto
the world, became an hermit. The third was an Arch-bi-
fhop, who quitting his bishoprick, entered into the order of
the Ciftercians. The fourth, named Alexander, was the
youngest of all his brothers, and being now arrived at fix-
teen years of age, his father would have compelled him to
take the government of the kingdom upon him; which be-
ing understood by his filler Matilda, who was twenty years
old, ſhe called him afide, and ſpake unto him in this man-
ner: My molt fweet brother, what is that thou meanest to
do? Thy elder brothers have forfaken the things of the
earth to gain thofe of heaven, and wilt thou to gain this
temporal kingdom, which they have left, lofe that which is
eternal, and thy own foul? Alexander, his eyes becoming
fountains of tears, aniwered her in this manner: Siſter,
what is it you adviſe me? I am ready to execute your com-
mands, without varying in the leaft circumftance. The
holy maid glad of his refolution, changed her habit, and
both of them fecretly leaving their country, came into
France. There he taught her brother how to order a dairy,
milk cows, and make cheeſes, and after found a way, to
have him received into a certain Grange of the Ciftercians,
where he performed this office to fuch fatisfaction of the
Monks, that in a fhort time, he was admitted amongst them
a Lay-brother. His filler Matilda feeing him thus placed,
laid one day unto him; Brother, certainly a great reward
attends us from the Lord, for having thus left our parents
and
(c) Cantiprat, 1, 2. c. p. 2. Hen. Gran. d. 5. Ex. 25,
f
476
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
and our country, for the love of him. But we ſhall receive
a far greater, if for the fhort time of our lives we deprive
ourfelves, even of this content of feeing one another; and
that we fo give ourſelves over to that divine and fovereign
Majefty, that we meet no more, until we meet in Heaven,
where we ſhall fee and converſe one with another, in true
and eternal comfort. Here the brother fell a weeping, ap-
prehending this as the greatest difficulty he had hitherto en-
countered, in the whole courſe of this life. But at last he
maſter'd it, and they both parted, never to fee one another
more upon earth. The holy virgin went unto a certain
town, nine miles diftant, where he lived retired in a little
cottage, and fuftained herſelf wholly by the labour of her
hands, admitting neither prefent nor alms. Her bed was
the ground, or little better; fhe cat upon her knees, and in
that poſture, ſpent many hours in prayer: wherein the often
was fo wrapped from her fenfes, that ſhe neither heard the
noife of thunder, nor perceived the flashes of lightning.
Alexander was never known whilſt he lived But St. Ma-
tilda was nine years before her death: and therefore at-
tempted often to have left the place; but was fo ftrictly
watched, he could not. She wrought many miracles, both
during her life, and after death A certain Monk fick of an
impofthume in his breast, offered up his prayers at the tomb
of Alexander; and to him the fervant of God appeared
more refplendant than the fun, adorned with two moſt beau-
tiful crowns; One of which he wore upon his head: The
other he carried in his hand; And being demanded of the
Monk, what thofe two crowns fignified, he anfwered, This
which I bear in my hands, is given me for that temporal
kingdom, which I forfook upon earth; The other on my
head, is that which is commony given to all the faints of
Heaven. And that thou mayeft give credit to what thou
haſt ſeen in this vifion, thou fhalt find thyself according to
thy faith, cured of thy infirmity. In this manner God ho
hours thofe, who humble themſelves for his glory.
CAP.
CAP. IX.
477
the Temporal and Eternal.
CA P. IX.
The love which we owe unto God ought fo to fill our Souls,
that it leaves no place or power, to love the Temporal.
WE
E have already produced fufficient motives and reaf-
ons, to breed in as a contempt of the things of this
world, and to wean our affections from them, as well for
being in themselves vile, tranfitory, mutable, little and dan-
gerous, as for that the Son of God hath done and ſuffered
fo much, to the end we ſhould defpife them. I will only
now add, for the conclufion of this matter, That, though
they were of fome real worth or value (as they are not); yet
for all this, we ought not to love them, fince fo great is that
love and affection, which is due from us unto God, that it
ought fo fully to fill and poffefs our hearts, that it leaves no
Toom for any other affection than itſelf. For if it were com-
manded in the law, when men had not the obligation which
we now have (the Son of God not having then died for our
redemption) that we ſhould love him with all our heart, all
our foul, and all our powers: how we are to love him when
our debt is ſo much greater, and that we have a further
knowledge of his divine-goodness? If then there ought to
be no place for any love but this, how can we now turn our
eyes unto the creature, or fet our hearts upon it, when a
million of hearts are not fufficient for our Creator? There
is no one title for which God is amiable, but upon that ti-
tle, we owe him a thouſand wills, a thouſand loves, and all
what we are, or can be; What do we then owe him for all
together? Confider his benefits, his love, his goodneſs, and
thou fhalt fee, that though thou had'ft as many hearts, as
there are fands upon the fea-fhore, of atoms in the air, all
were not capable of that great love which is due unto him.
How can't thou then divide this one heart which thou haft,
amongst to many creatures? Confider alfo the multitude
and greatneſs of his divine- bleffings, and deal but with God,
as one man doth with another. If we fay of humane-bene-
fits, that gifts break rocks, how comes it that divine-benefits
do not move a heart of fleſh? And if, as Solemon fays,
Thofe
:
478
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
Thole who have gifts, feal the hearts of the receivers, how
comes it, that God robs not thee of thy foul, who not only
gives thee gifts, but himfelf for a gift? Confider the benefits
thou didst receive in thy creation? They were as many as
thou hast members of thy body, or faculties of thy foul.
Confider thofe of thy confervation; Thou hast received as
many, as there are diftin&t natures in heaven and in earth.
The elements, ſtars, and the whole world, were created for
thy prefervation, without which thou couldeſt not fubfift.
Look upon the benefits of thy redemption; They are as
many, as are the evils of hell, from which they have freed
thee. Look upon thoſe of thy juſtification; they are as
many as the facraments, which Chrift hath inſtituted, and
the examples which he hath left thee. Think what thou
oweft him for having made thee a chriftian, pardoned thee
fo often, and given thee ſtill fresh grace to renew thee. All
thefe, and a thoufand other benefits and obligations demand
and fue for thy love. And not only thefe benefits from God,
but even thoſe from men, cry out unto thee to love him;
For there is no benefit which thou receiveft from man, but
comes from God. On all parts then, and for all things,
thou art obliged to love God; for it is he who does thee
good in all, and is worth unto thee more than all. How
comes it then, that, fince he hath done all this for us, we
yet think not what we are to do for him, nor how we ſhall
exprefs our thankfulneſs for fuch and fo great benefits?
David was troubled with this care, when he faid, What bali
I return unto the Lord, for all which be hath given me ? And
yet the Lord had not then given him the body and blood of
his Son, nor had his Son then been born or died for him.
Since then he hath done all this for us, why do we not flu-
dy, how we may be grateful for fuch infinite and unſpeak-
able mercies ? But what can we return, which we have not
received? Let us deliver him back our fouls, hearts and bo-
dies: looking upon ourſelves hence-forward, as on a thing
not ours, but his, acknowledging that we owe him more
than what we are, or can do. So fhall we not debale our
love, by placing it upon the creatures.
If we shall then confider the infinite love which God
bears us, we ſhall find that we have no love left, to beſtow
upon any thing but him, no not upon ourselves. To know
ttuly the greatness of this divine love, we are to luppole,
that true and perfe&t love confts much in action, but is
molt
CAP. IX. the Temporal an! Eterne!
479
moſt apparent in patience and fuffering, and alfo in com-
munication of its proper goods unto thoſe whom it loves.
See then how great is his love, who hath wrought ſuch ſtu-
pendous works for thee, as are his incarnation and thy re-
demption and continues ftill unto this hour working for
thy good, after a thoufand ways, in all his creatures, making
the corn grow which is to feed thee, the wool to encreaſe
which is to cloath thee, fupports the fun which is to enlight-
en thee, draws waters from the veins of the earth to quench
thy thirst, and in every thing ftill operates for thee. Confi-
der how he gives a being unto the elements, life to plants,
fenle to beafts, understanding to angels, and all to thee,
working in thee alone all which he works in the other de-
grees of nature. How apparent then is the love of God in
his works, who does fo great things for the good of man,
who deferves to be forfaken by him, and reduced to nothing?
Confider then the excels of love in his patience, who hath
endured fuch cruel torments, and fo painful a death for
thee, and hath born with thee as often as thou haft offended
him; And if patience be a trial of love, where fhall we find
fo great an example? How exceffive were that love, if a
King, who after his vaffal had a thousand times attempted
to murther him, fhould not only pardon, but continue ftill
to favour and enrich him with his own rents and revenues?
who would not be amazed at fuch a love, and think that
King infatuated? O goodness and longanimity of God,
who fuffers us a thoufand times to turn again, and crucify
thee our Redeemer, the King of glory, and art ftill filent !
Behold alſo his love, in communicating all the good he hath
unto us. The Father delivers up his only Son, the Son his
body and blood for us; and they both together fend the
Holy Ghoft, by whom we are by grace made partakers of
the Divine nature. See if a more great, more real or more
tender love than this can be imagined, wherein he fhares
with us all he has, and gives us all he can. And if love be
to be paid with love, what love doft thou owe him? See if
thou haſt an affection yet free, to be employed upon any
but thy lover and thy God. Requite then this excefs of
good-will, by having no other will but his, and anſwer his
love, with a love like his, of works and patience. Our Lord
is not content we ſhould only love him with our tongues,
but reprehends thole who cry unto him, Lord, Lord, and
do not what he commands: For even good words, if they
want
480
LIB. V
The Difference betwixt
*
:
want works, are condemned as falfe and feigned. Let us
love him then in earneſt; let us fuffer for him, and com-
municate with him all we have. Let us not think to come
off with this love gratis; it is to coft us all is ours.
love our God truly, who fo much loved us, we muſt reſolve
to loſe honours, wealth and pleafure, in ferving and requi-
ting him.
If we
Above all, if we confider him to be God, who is infinite-
ly beautiful, good, wife, powerful, eternal, immenſe, im-
mutable, there is no heart poffible, which can equal the love
which he deferves for any one of thofe Divine attributes.
What ſhall then his whole infinity deferve, which eminent-
ly contains all the beauties and perfections of his creatures,
either real or imaginable? for all are but as a drop, in re-
fpe&t of an immenfe ocean; all depend upon God, who fo
communicates his beauties and perfections to the creatures,
as they ſtill remain in himſelf, after a more excellent man-
ner, and in fuch fort diftributes them, as he parts not from
them, but unites them all in one fimple perfection. From
whence, as from a fountain, all that is good flows, and is
yet ftill in the original, in a more high and tranſcendent
manner. And if men (as the wife-man fays) admiring the
beauty of fome creatures, adored them as Gods, let them
hence underſtand, how beautiful is the Lord of all things,
fince he who made them, is the author and father of beau-
ty; And if they wonder at their force and virtue in their
operations, let them know, that he who made them is more
powerful than they; And by the beauty and greatneſs of
the created, let the understanding climb to the knowledge.
of the Creator: and hence colle&t, that if the effe&t be good,
the cauſe muſt needs be fo too; for nothing can give what
it hath not; And therefore he who made things fo beauti-
ful, and ſo good, cannot chuſe but be most beautiful, and
most excellently good himſelf. So as if the imagination
hould join in one piece all the good, and all the perfection.
of all creatures poffible or imaginable, yet God were infinite-
ly more perfe&, and more beautiful than that.
From hence it follows, that as God is infinitely perfec
and beautiful, fo he must be infinitely amiable; and if infi-
nitely amiable, we are to love him with an infinite love: fo
as if the capacity of our heart were infinite, it were wholly
to be employed in loving him. How can we then, fince
our hearts are limited, and the obje&t infinite, fpare any part
of
CAP. IX.
481
the Temporal and Eternal.
of it for the things of this life? Befides, fuch is the loveli
nefs of God, that we are not to love our elves but becauſe
he loves us; and if we are not to love ourselves but for his
fake, how are we diverted to love other things for their own
fake? O infinite God! how do I rejoice that thou art fo
good, fo perfe&, fo beautiful, the fource and original of all
beauty and perfection, as that I ought not only to withdraw
my love and affection from all other creatures, but even
from myſelf, and place it wholly upon thee, from whom my
being, and all the good I have is derived, as the beams
from the fun, or water from the fountain. For as the con-
verfation of the rays, according to a mystic doctor, depends
more upon the fun, than upon themfelves, and the current
of the stream, more from the fountain than itself: In fuch
manner, the good of man depends wholly upon God, who
is the fpring and fountain of all his good and perfection;
from whence it follows, that man, when he relies upon him-
felf, is fure to fall, and when he loves himſelf, lofes himſelf.
but flying and abhorring himſelf, preferves himself, accord-
ing to what is written in the holy Gofpel," He who loves
"his life, fhall lofe it, and he who hates it in this world,
"fhall gain it for ever." Hence it comes, that we are
now no more to look upon ourſelves, as upon a thing of
our own, but only God's, depending both in our fpiritual
and corporal-being, from that infinite ocean of being and
perfection. Hence the foul, finding itſelf now free and un-
fettered, flies unto God with all its forces and affe&tions,
not finding any thing to love and pleaſe it but in him, in
whom the beauty and perfections of all creatures, are con-
tained with infinite advantages. When one hath once ar-
rived unto this eftate, how diffonant and various foever his
works be, the end, which he pretends, is ftill the fame, and
he ever obtains what he pretends, if ſhutting his eyes to all
creatures, as if they were not, he looks at nothing but God,
and how to pleaſe his Divine-goodneſs, and that only for
itself. It may be, that looking at the particular ends of
cach work, our actions may be in feveral conditions; ſome-
times they are in beginning, fometimes in the midft, fome-
times in the end, and fometimes by impediments and cross
accidents, which happen, they acquire not what they aim
at; but look upon the intention of him who works, and they
are ſtill in their end: For in what condition foever the work
be, he who does it with this intention only to pleaſe God,
PPP
is
482
LIB. V.
The Difference betwixt
is ever in his end, which no bad fuccefs or contradiction can
hinder. According to this which hah been faid, it is a
great matter by Divine-light, to have arrived at this know-
ledge, That all goods and gifts defcend from above, and
that there is an infinite power, goodness, wildom, mercy
and beauty, from whence thefe properties, which are here.
below, participated by the creatures with fuch limitation are
derived. It is a great matter to have difcovered the fun by
his rays, and guiding ourselves by the ftream, to have arri-
ved at the fountains-head, or to have found the centre,
where the multiplicity of created perfections meet and unite
in one.
There our love fhall reft, as have nothing fur-
ther to feek; And this is to love God, with all the heart,
all the foul, all the mind, and all the powers. And as thoſe
who arrive at this happy ftate, have no other care, no other
thought, than to do the will of God here upon earth, with
the lame perfection it is done in heaven: So they have no
other defires, than by leaving earth to enter heaven, there
by fulfilling wholly the Divine-will, to fupply what was de-
fective upon earth. Nothing detains them there, but the
will of God; they have nothing begun which is not ended;
they are ever prepared; all their bufinefs is difpatched, like
thofe fervants, who are always expecting their Lord, and
fill ready to open the door, when he fhall call. Let us then
prepare ourſelves, by with-drawing our love from all which
is temporal and created: and placing it upon our Creator,
who is eternal, let us love him, not with a delicate and an
effeminate love, but with a ftrong and manly affection,
fuch a one as will fupport any weight, overcome any diffi.
culty, and deſpiſe any intereft, rather than be ſeparated from
our beloved, breaks his laws, or offend him, though never
fo lightly. Let this love be frong as death, that it may
look death in the face, and not fly from it: which when it
fuffers, it conquers. Let thy fire be fo enkindled, that if
whole rivers of tribulations fall upon it, they may be but
like drops of water, falling upon a forge, which the flame
drinks up and confumes, and is not quenched, but quickned
by them. Be above thyself, and above all that is below;
And if the world offer thee all it is miſtreſs of, to defpoil
thee of this love, tread it under thy foot, and deſpiſe it as
nothing.
To this love it belongs, to accommodate ones felf to po-
verty, Not to repine at hunger, nakedneſs, cold or heat,
who
CAP. IX. the Temporal and Eternal.
483
who as companions go along with it; To fuffer injuries
meekly, To bear ſickneſs and infirmities patiently, Not to
be dismayed in perfecutions, To endure temptations with
longanimity, To bear the burthens of our neighbours chear-
fully, Not to be tired with their thwart conditions, Not to
be angry at their neglects, nor overcome by their ingrati-
tude, In ſpiritual dryneffes, not to leave our ordinary-devo-
tions, and in confolations and fpiritual-gufts, not to torbear
our obligations: Finally, that we may fay with St. Paul,
(f) "Who fhall ſeparate us from the charity of Christ?
tribulation? or diftrefs? or famine? or nakedness? or
danger? or perfecution or the fword? I am fure, that
"neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities,
*
nor powers, neither things prefent, nor things to come,
"neither might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other
creature, ſhall be able to feparate us from the love of
"God, which is in Chrift Jefus our Lord."
(f) Rom. 8.
FINI S.
沁
​Que
A SUMMARY of the CHAPTERS in
this BOOK.
Cap. 1.
I.
LIB. I.
OUR Ignorance of what are the true Goods:
and not only of things Eternal, but Tem-
poral.
page 3
Cap. 2. How efficacious is the Confideration of Eternity,
for the change of our Lives.
Cap. 4.
p. 3
The memory of Eternity is of itfelf, more efficaci-
ous than that of Death.
p. 12
Cap. 3.
The estate of Men in this Life, and the miferable
forgetfulness which they have of Eternity. p. 18
Cap. 5. What is Eternity, according to St. Gregory Nazi-
anzen, and St. Dionyfius.
P. 23
Cap. 6. What Eternity is, according to Boetius and Plo-
tinus.
Cap. 7. Wherein is declared what Eternity is, according to
P. 26
St. Bernard.
Cap. 8. What it is in Eternity to have no End.
Cap. 9. How Eternity is without change.
Cap. 10. How Eternity is without comparifon.
Cap. 10. What is Time, according to Aristotle, and other
Philofophers; and the little confiftence of life.
p. 30
P. 36
P. 46
P. 52
p. 59
Cap. 12. How fhort life is, for which respect, all things
temporal are to be deſpiſed.
p. 63
Cap. 13. What is Time, according to St. Augufline. p. 70
Cap. 14. Time is the occafion of Eternity. and how a
Chriflian ought to benefit him:lt by it.
P. 76
Cap. 15. What is Time, according to Plato and Plotinus:
and how deceitful is all that which is Temporal.
p. 83
LIB.
CONTENTS.
LI B. II.
Cap. 1. Of the end of Temporal-life.
p. 88
Cap. 2. Remarkable Conditions of the End of Temporal
Life.
p. 102
Cap. 3. Of that Moment, which is the Medium betwixt
Time and Eternity, which being the end of Life,
is therefore moſt terrible.
P. 118
Cap. 4. Wherefore the end of life is moſt terrible. p. 124
Cap. 5. How God even in this Life poffeffes a moſt rigorous
Judgment.
Cap. 6. Of the End of all Time.
P. 145
P. 151
Cap. 7. How the Elements and Heavens are to change
at the end of Time
P. 154
Cap. 8. How the world ought to conclude with fo dread-
ful an End: in which a general Judgment is to
pafs upon all that is in it.
Cap. 9. Of the last day of Time.
P. 171
p. 178
LI B. III.
p. 190
Cap. 1. The mutability of things Temporal, makes them
worthy of Contempt.
Cap. 2. How great and defperate foever our Temporal
Evils are, yet hope may make them tolerable.
P. 199
Cap. 3. We ought to confider, what we may come to be.
p. 202
Cap. 4. The change of Humane-things, fhews clearly
their Vanity, and how worthy they are to be
contemned.
P. 211
Cap. 5. The balenefs and diſorder of Temporal-things;
and how great a Monſter Men have made the
World.
Cap. 6. The Littlenefs of things Temporal.
p. 217
p. 224
Cap. 7. How miferable a thing is this Temporal-Life.
Cap. 8. How little is Man, whilft he is Temporal.
Cap. 9. How deceitful are all things Temporal.
Cap. 10. The dangers and prejudices of things Temporal.
p. 236
p. 256
p. 264
p. 270
LIB.
CONTENTS.
LI B. IV.
Cap. 2.
Cap. 1. Of the greatnefs of things Eternal.
The Greatness of the eternal Honour of the Juft.
P. 278
P. 286´
Cap. 3.
The Riches of the eternal Kingdom of Heaven.
p. 296
Cap. 4.
The Greatneſs of Eternal Pleaſures.
Cap. 5.
Cap. 6.
How happy is the eternal Life of the Juft.
The Excellency and Perfection of the Bodies of
the Saints, in the Life Eternal.
P. 303
p. 311
P. 321
Cap. 7.
Cap. 8.
How we are to feek after Heaven, and to prefer it
before all the goods of the Earth.
Of Evils Eternal: and efpecially of the great Pov-
erty, Dishonour and Ignominy of the damned.
P. 329
P. 338
Cap. 9. The Puniſhment of the Damned, from the horri
bleness of the place, into which they are baniſh-
ed from Heaven, and made Prifoners in Hell.
P. 347
Cap. 10. Of the Slavery, Chaftifement, and Pains Eternal.
*
P. 353
Cap. 11. Of Eternal Death and Puniſhment of Talion in
the Damned.
P. 370
Cap. 12. The Fruit which may be drawn from the confi-
deration of Eternal Evils.
P. 378
Cap. 13. The infinite guilt of Mortal-Sin, by which we
loſe the felicity of Heaven, and fall into eter-
nal Evils.
LIB. V.
P. 384
Cap. 1. Notable differences betwixt the Temporal and
Eternal: the one being the End, and the other
the Means. Wherein allo is treated of the End
for which Man was created.
p. 400
Cap. 2. By the knowledge of ourſelves, may be known the
ufe of things Temporal, and the little eleent
we are to make of them.
P. 415
Cap. 3. The value of goods Eternal, is made apparent
unto us, by the Incarnation of the Son of God.
P. 423
Cap.
CONTENT S.
Cap. 4. The bafenefs of Temporal-goods may likewife
appear, by the Paffion and Death of Chrift
p. 430
Jefus.
Cap. 5. The importance of the Eternal, becauſe God hath
made himſelf a Means for our obtaining it, and
hath left his moſt holy Body as a Pledge of it,
in the bleſſed Sacrament.
:
P. 443
Cap. 6. Whether Temporal-things are to be demanded of
God and that we only ought to aim in our
Prayers at goods Eternal.
Cap. 7.
Cap. 8.
Cap. 9.
P-453
p. 460
How happy are thofe, who renounce Temporal-
goods, for the fecuring of the Eternal.
Many who have defpifed and renounced all that
is Temporal.
P. 467
The Love, which we owe unto God, ought ſo to
fill our Souls, that it leave no place or power,
to love the Temporal.
P. 477
ཚ མ
193 JUN 26
Zelpi
прово
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
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1
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