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Works of Joseph Hall · Joseph Hall

Works of Joseph Hall, Decade 4 – Dedication 13

THE FOVRTH DECAD.

To Mr WALTER FITzWILLIAMS. EP. I. A diſcourſe of the true and lawfull vſe of pleaſures; how we may moderate them, how we may enioy them with ſafety.

INdeed; wherein ſtands the vſe of wiſedome, if not in tempering our pleaſures and ſorrowes? and ſo diſpoſing our ſelues in ſpight of all occurrents, that the world may not blow vponupon vsus with an vnequall gale, neither tearing our ſailes, nor ſlackning them. Euents will varie; if we continue the ſame, it matters not: nothing can ouerturne him, that hath power ouer himſelfe. Of theſe two, I confeſſe it harder to manage proſperity, and to auoid hurt from good: ſtrong and cold winds do but make vsus gather vp our cloake more round, more cloſe; but to keepe it about vsus in a hot Sunne-ſhine, to runne and not ſweat; to ſweat and not faint; how difficult it is! I ſee ſome that auoid pleaſures for their danger, and which dare not but abandon lawfull delights, for feare of ſinne; who ſeeme to mee like ſome ignorant Matalliſts, which caſt away the precious Ore, becauſe they cannot ſeparate the gold from the droſſe; or ſome ſimple Iew, that condemnes the pure ſtreames of Iordan, becauſe it falls into the dead ſea. Why do not theſe men refuſe to eate, becauſe meat hath made many gluttons? Or how dare they couer themſelues, that know there is pride in ragges? Theſe hard Tutors, if not Tyrants, to themſelues, whiles they pretend a mortified ſtrictneſſe, are iniurious to their owne libertie, to the liberalitie of their Maker: wherefore hath he created and giuen the choice commodities of this earth, if not for vſe? or why placed he Man in a Paradiſe, not in a Deſert? How can we more diſpleaſe a liberall friend, then to depart from his delicate feaſt wilfully hungry? They are deceiued that call this holineſſe; it is the diſeaſe of a mind ſullen, diſtruſtfull, impotent: There is nothing but euill, which is not from heauen; and he is none of Gods friends, that reiects his gifts for his owne abuſe. Heare me therefore, and true Philoſophy; There is a nearer way then this, and a fairer; if you will be a wiſe Chriſtian, tread in it. Learne firſt by a iuſt ſuruey, to know the due and lawfull bounds of pleaſure; and then beware, either to go beyond a knowne Mere, or in the licence of your owne deſires to remoue it. That God, that hath curb'd in the fury of that vnquiet and foaming element, and ſaid of old, Here ſhalt thou ſtay thy proud waues, hath done no leſſe for the rage of our appetite. Behold, our limits are not obſcure; which if wee once paſſe, our inundation is perilous and ſinfull. No iuſt delight wanteth either his warrant, or his tearmes. More plainely be acquainted both with the qualitie of pleaſures, and the meaſure: Many a ſoule hath loſt it ſelfe in a lawfull delight, through exceſſe: and not fewer hauehave periſhed in thoſe, whoſe nature is vicious, without reſpect of immoderation. Your care muſt auoid both. The taſte of the one is deadly; of the other, a full carouſe: and in truth, it is eaſier for a Chriſtian, not to taſte of that, then not to be drunk with this: The ill is more eaſily auoided, then the indifferent moderated. Pleaſure is of a winding and ſerpentine nature; admit the head, the body will aske no leaue: and ſooner may you ſtop the entrance, then ſtay the proceeding. Withall, her inſinuations are ſo cunning, that you ſhal not perceiue your exceſſe, till you be ſicke of a ſurfet. A little honie is ſweet; much, fulſome. For the attaining of this temper then, ſettle in your ſelfe a right eſtimation of that wherein you delight: reſolue eueryevery thing into his firſt matter, and there will bee more danger of contempt, then ouer-ioying. What are the goodly ſumptuous buildings we admire, but a little burnt and hardned earth? What is the ſtately & wondrous building of this humane bodie, whoſe beauty we doat vponupon, but the ſame earth wee tread on, better tempred; but worſe, when it wants his gueſt? What are thoſe precious metals whom we worſhip, but veines of earth better coloured? What are coſtly robes, but ſuch as are giuen of worms, and conſumed of moths? Then, from their beginning, looke to their end, and ſee laughter conclude in teares; ſee death, in this ſweet pot. Thy conſcience ſcourges thee with a long ſmart for a ſhort libertie; and for an imperfect delight, giues thee perfect torment: Alas, what an hard peny-worth; ſo little pleaſure for ſo much repentance! Enioy it, if thou canſt: but if while the ſword hangs ouer thee in an horſes haire, ſtill threatning his fall and thine, thou canſt bee ſecurely iocund: I wonder, but enuie not. Now I heare you recall mee, and after all my diſcourſe (as no vvhit yet wiſer) inquire by vvhat rule our pleaſures ſhal be iudged immoderate? Wee are all friends to our ſelues, and our indulgence will hardly call any fauour too much. I ſend you not (tho I might) to your bodie, to your calling, for this tryall; while your delights exclude not the preſence, the fruition of God, you are ſafe: the louelove of the medicine is no hinderance to the louelove of health; let all your pleaſures hauehave reference to the higheſt Good, and you cannot exceed. You ſee the Angels ſent aboue Gods meſſages to this earth; yet neuer out of their heauen, neuer without the viſion of their Maker. Theſe earthly things cauſe not diſtraction, if we reſt not in them, if we can looke thorow them, to their giuer. The minde that deſires them for their owne ſakes, and ſuffers it ſelfe taken vp with their ſweetneſſe as his maine end, is already drunken. It is not the vſe of pleaſure that offends, but the affectation. How many great Kings hauehave beene Saints? they could not hauehave beene Kings, without choice of earthly delights; they could not hauehave been Saints, with earthly affections. If God hauehave mixed you a ſweet cup, drinke it cheerefully; commend the taſte, and be thankefull; but reioyce in it as his. Vſe pleaſures without dotage; as in God, from God, to God; you are as free from error, as miſerie.

Written to W.F. and dedicated to Mr Robert Jermin. EP. II. A diſcourſe of the bloody vſe of ſingle combats; the iniuſtice of all pretences of their lawfulneſſe; ſetting forth the danger and ſinfulneſſe of this falſe and vnchriſtian manhood.

YOu hauehave receiued a proud challenge, and now hold your ſelfe bound vponupon termes of honour, to accept it. Heare firſt the anſwer of a friend, before you giuegive an anſwer to your enemie; receiue the counſell of louelove, ere you enter thoſe courſes of reuenge: Thinke not you may reiect me, becauſe my profeſſion is peace; I ſpeake from him, which is not onelyonly the Prince of Peace, but the God of Hoſts; of vvhom if you will not learne to manage your hand and your ſword, I ſhall grieue to ſee, that courage hath made you rebellions. Grant once that you are a Chriſtian, and this victory is mine, I ouercome, and you fight not? would God the fury of mens paſſions could be as eaſily conquered, as their iudgements conuinced; how many thouſands had beene free from blood: This conceit of falſe fortitude hath coſt well-neere as many liues as lawfull warre, or as opinion of hereſie. Let mee tell you with confidence, that all duels or ſingle combats are murderous: blanch them ouer (how you liſt) with names of honour, and honeſt pretences; their vſe is ſinfull, and their nature diuelliſh.

Let vsus two, if you pleaſe, (before hand) enter into theſe liſts of words. Let reaſon (which is a more harmleſſe fight) conflict with reaſon: Take vvhom you vvill vvith you into this field; of all the Philoſophers, Ciuilians, Canoniſts; for Diuines (I hope) you ſhall finde none; and let the right of this truth betryed vponupon a iuſt induction.

I onelyonly premiſe this caution, (leſt wee quarrell about the cauſe of this quarrell) that neceſſity muſt be excluded from theſe vnlawfull fights; which euer alters their qualitie, and remoues their euill: The defence of our life, the iniunction of a Magiſtrate, are euer excepted: voluntary combats are onelyonly queſtioned; or whoſe neceſſity wee doe not finde, but make. There are not many cauſes that can draw vsus forth ſingle into the field, with colour of equity. Let the firſt be the tryall of ſome hidden right; whether of innocence vponupon a falſe accuſation, or of title to inheritance, not determinable by courſe of Lawes; A proceeding not tolerable among Chriſtians, becauſe it wants both vvarrant and certaintie. Where euer did God bid thee hazard thy life for thy name? Where did he promiſe to ſecond thee? When thou art without thy commandement, without his promiſe, thou art without thy protection. Hee takes charge of thee, but vvhen thou art in thy wayes; yea in his. If this be Gods way, where did hee chalke it out? If thou want his Word, looke not for his aide. Miſerable is that man, which in dangerous actions is left to his own keeping; yea how plainly doth the euent ſhew Gods diſlike? How oft hath innocence lien bleeding in theſe combats, and guiltineſſe inſulted in the conqueſt? Thoſe very decretals (whom we oft cite not, often truſt not) report the inequalitie of this iſſue. Two men are brought to the barre, one accuſes the other of theft, without further euidence, either to cleare, or conuince: The ſword is called for, both witneſſe, and Iudge: They meet, and combat: The innocent party is ſlaine: The ſtollen goods are found after in other hands, and confeſſed. O the iniuſtice of humane ſentences! O vvretched eſtate of the party miſcaried! his good name is loſt with his life, which he would hauehave redeemed with his valour: he both dies and ſinnes, while he ſtriues to ſeeme cleare of a ſinne. Therefore men ſay, he is guilty, becauſe hee is dead, while the others wickedneſſe is rewarded with glory. I am deceiued, if in this caſe there were not three murderers; the Iudge, the aduerſarie, himſelfe. Let no man challenge God for neglect of innocence, but rather magnifie him for reuenge of preſumption. What he enioynes, that he vndertakes, hee maintaines: Who art thou, O vaine man, that dareſt expect him a party in thine owne brawles? But there is no other vvay of tryall. Better none then this. Innocencie or land is queſtioned; and now wee ſend two men into the liſts, to try vvhether is the better Fencer: vvhat is the ſtrength or skill of the Champions, to the iuſtice of the cauſe? Wherefore ſerue our owne oathes? vvhereto vvitneſſe, records, lotteries, and other purgations? Or why put wee not men as vvell to the old Saxon, or Liuonian, Ordalian tryals of hot yrons, or ſcalding liquors? It is farre better ſome truths ſhould be vnknowne, then vnlawfully ſearched. Another cauſe ſeemingly warrantable may bee the determining of warre, preuention of common bloodſhed: Two armies are readie to ioyne battell, the field is ſure to bee bloody on both ſides; either part chuſes a champion; they two fight for all: the life of one ſhall ranſome a thouſand. Our Philoſophers, our Lawyers ſhout for applauſe of this Monorarchie, as a way neere, eaſie, ſafe: I dare not. Either the warre is iuſt, or vniuſt: if vniuſt, the hazard of one is too much; if iuſt, too little. The cauſe of a iuſt warre muſt be, beſides true, important; the title common, wherein ſtill a whole ſtate is intereſſed; therefore may not, without raſhneſſe and tentation of God, be caſt vponupon two hands. The holy ſtory neuer records any, but a barbarous Philiſtine, to make this offer, and that in the preſumption of his vnmatchableneſſe. Profane monuments report many, and ſome on this ground wiſely reiected. Tullus challenged Albanus, that the right of the two Hoſts might be decided by the two Captaines; he returned a graue reply, (which I neuer read noted of cowardize). That this honour ſtood not in them two, but in the two Cities of Alba and Rome.

All cauſes of publike right are Gods: when we put to our hand in Gods cauſe, then we may looke for his. In vaine we hope for ſucceſſe, if we doe not our vtmoſt; wherefore either warre muſt be determined without ſwords, or vvith many: why ſhould all the heads of the Common-wealth ſtand vponupon the necke and ſhoulders of one champion? If he miſ-carry, it is iniury to loſe her; if he preuaile, yet it is iniury to hazard her: yet reſpecting the parties themſelues. I cannot but grant it neereſt to equity, and the beſt of combats, that ſome blood ſhould be hazarded, that more might bee out of hazard. I deſcend to your caſe, which is yet further from likelihood of approofe; for what can you plead but your credit? others opinion? You fight, not ſo much againſt anothers life, as your owne reproach: you are wronged, and now if you challenge not; or you are challenged, and if you accept not, the vvorld condemnes you for a coward: who would not rather hazard his life then blemiſh his reputation? It were well, if this reſolution were as wiſe as gallant. If I ſpeake to a Chriſtian, this courage muſt be rectified. Tell me, what world is this, whoſe cenſure you feare? Is it not that which God hath branded long agoe with Poſitus in maligno? Is it not that which hath euer miſconſtrued, diſcouraged, diſgraced, perſecuted goodneſſe? that which reproached, condemned your Sauiour? What do you vnderunder theſe colours, if you regard the fauour of that, whoſe amitie is enmitie with God? What care you for the cenſure of him, whom you ſhould both ſcorne and vanquiſh? Did euer wiſe Chriſtians, did euer your Maſter, allow either this manhood, or this feare? Was there euer any thing more ſtrictly, more fearfully forbidden of him, then reuenge in the challenge; then in the anſwer, paiment of euill; and murder in both? It is pitie, that euer the water of Baptiſme was ſpilt vponupon his face, that cares more to diſcontent the world, then to wrong God: He ſaith, Vengeance is mine; and you ſteale it from him in a glorious theft, hazarding your ſoule more then your body. You are weary of your ſelfe, while you thruſt one part vponupon the ſword of an enemie; the other, on Gods. Yet perhaps I hauehave yeelded too much. Let goe Chriſtians; The wiſer world of men (and who elſe are worth reſpect) will not paſſe this odious verdict vponupon your refuſall: valiant men hauehave reiected challenges, with their honours vntainted. Auguſtus, when he receiued a defiance, and braue appointment of combat from Antonie, could anſwer him, That if Antonie were weary of liuing, there vvere vvayese now beſides to death. And that Scythian King returned no other reply to Iohn the Emperor of Conſtantinople. And Metellus challenged by Sertorius, durſt anſwer ſcornefully, vvith his pen, not vvith his ſword; That it vvas not for a Captaine, to dye a ſouldiers death. Was it not diſhonorable for theſe wiſe and noble Heathens to turne off theſe deſperate offers. What law hath made it ſo with vsus? Shall I ſeriouſly tell you? Nothing but the meere opinion of ſome humorous Gallants, that hauehave more heart then braine; confirmed by a more idle cuſtome: Worthly grounds, whereon to ſpend both life and ſoule; vvhereon to neglect God, himſelfe, poſteritie. Goe now and take vp that ſword, of vvhoſe ſharpneſſe you hauehave boaſted, and haſten to the field; vvhether you die or kill, you hauehave murdered. If you ſuruiue, you are haunted vvith the conſcience of blood; if you die, with the torments; and if neither of theſe; yet it is murder, that you vvould hauehave killed. See whether the fame of a braue fight can yeeld you a counteruailable redreſſe of theſe miſchiefes: how much more happily valiant had it been to maſter your ſelfe; to feare ſinne more then ſhame, to contemne the world, to pardon a wrong, to preferre true Chriſtianitie before idle manhood, to liue and doe vvell.

To Mr MAT. MILWARD. EP. III. A diſcourſe of the pleaſure of ſtudy and contemplation, with the varieties of ſchollar-like imployments, not without incitation of others thereunto; and a cenſure of their neglect.

I Can wonder at nothing more, then how a man can be idle; but of all other, a Scholar; in ſo many improuements of reaſon, in ſuch ſweetneſſe of knowledge, in ſuch variety of ſtudies, in ſuch importunity of thoughts. Other Artizans do but practiſe, we ſtill learne; others runne ſtill in the ſame gyre, to vvearineſſe, to ſatietie; our choice is infinite: other labours require recreations, our very labour recreates our ſports: wee can neuer want, either ſomewhat to doe, or ſomewhat, that we would do. How numberleſſe are thoſe volumes vvhichwhich men hauehave vvritten, of Arts, of Tongues! How endleſſe is that volume which God hath written of the vvorld! wherein eueryevery creature is a Letter, eueryevery day a new Page: vvho can be weary of either of theſe? To finde wit in Poetry, in Philoſophy profoundneſſe, in Mathematicks acuteneſſe, in Hiſtory wonder of euents, in Oratory ſweet eloquence, in Diuinity ſupernaturall light and holy deuotion; as ſo many rich metals in their proper mynes, whom would it not rauiſh with delight? After all theſe, let vsus but open our eyes, we cannot looke beſide a leſſon, in this vniuerſall Booke of our Maker worth our ſtudy, worth …aking out. What creature hath not his miracle? vvhat euent doth not challenge his obſeruation? And if vveary of foraine imployment, we liſt to looke home into our ſelues, there wee finde a more priuate world of thoughts, which ſet vsus on vvorke anew, more buſily, not leſſe profitably; now, our ſilence is vocall, our ſolitarineſſe popular, and we are ſhut vp, to doe good vntounto many. And if once we be cloyed with our owne company, the doore of conference is open; here interchange of diſcourſe (beſides pleaſure) benefits vsus: and he is a weake companion, from whom we returne not wiſer. I could enuy, if I could beleeue that Anachoret, vvho ſecluded from the vvorld, and pent vp in his voluntary priſon-wals, denied that hee thought the day long, vvhiles yet hee vvanted learning to vary his thoughts. Not to be cloyed with the ſame conceit, is difficult aboue humane ſtrength; but to a man ſo furniſhed vvith all ſorts of knowledge, that according to his diſpoſitions he can change his ſtudies, I ſhould wonder, that euer the Sunne ſhould ſeeme to paſe ſlowly. How many buſie tongues chaſe away good houres in pleaſant chat, and complaine of the haſte of night! What ingenuous minde can be ſooner weary of talking vvith learned Authors, the moſt harmeleſſe, and ſweeteſt of companions? What an heauen liues a Scholar in, that at once in one cloſe roome can dayly conuerſe vvith all the glorious Martyrs and Fathers? that can ſingle out, at pleaſure, either ſententious Tertullian, or graue Cyprian, or reſolute Hierome, or flowing Chryſoſtome, or diuine Ambroſe, or deuout Bernard, or (vvho alone is all theſe) heauenly Auguſtine, and talke vvith them, and heare their wiſe and holy counſels, verdicts, reſolutions: yea (to riſe higher) with courtly Eſay, with learned Paul, with all their fellow-Prophets, Apoſtles? yet more, like another Moſes, with God himſelfe, in them both? Let the vvorld contemne vsus: while we hauehave theſe delights, we cannot enuy them; wee cannot wiſh our ſelues other then wee are. Beſides, the way to all other contentments is troubleſome; the onelyonly recompence is in the end. To delue in the mynes, to ſcorch in the fire for the getting, for the fining of gold, is a ſlauiſh toyle; the comfort is in the wedge; to the owner, not the labourers; where our very ſearch of knowledge is delightſome. Study it ſelfe, is our life; from which vve would not be barred for a world. How much ſweeter then is the fruit of ſtudy, the conſcience of knowledge? In compariſon whereof, the ſoule that hath once taſted it, eaſily contemnes all humane comforts. Goe now yee worldlings, and inſult ouer our paleneſſe, our needineſſe, our neglect. Ye could not bee ſo iocund, if you vvere not ignorant: if you did not vvant knowledge, you could not ouer-looke him that hath it: For me, I am ſo farre from emulating you, that I profeſſe, I had as leiue be a brute beaſt, as an ignorant rich man. How is it then, that thoſe Gallants, vvhichwhich hauehave priuiledge of blood and birth, and better education, do ſo ſcornfully turne off theſe moſt manly, reaſonable, noble exerciſes of ſcholarſhip? An hawke becomes their fiſt better then a booke: No dogge but is a better companion: Any thing, or nothing, rather then what we ought. O minds brutiſhly ſenſuall! Doe they thinke that God made them for diſport? who euen in his Paradiſe, would not allow pleaſure, without vvorke. And if for buſineſſe; either of body, or minde: Thoſe of the body are commonly ſeruile, like it ſelfe. The minde therefore, the mind onelyonly, that honorable and diuine part, is fitteſt to be imployed of thoſe vvhichwhich vvould reach to the higheſt perfection of men, and vvould be more then the moſt. And what vvorke is there of the minde but the trade of a ſcholar, ſtudy? Let me therefore faſten this probleme on our Schoole-gates, and challenge all commers, in the defence of it; that, No Scholar cannot be truely noble. And if I make it not good, let me neuer be admitted further then to the ſubiect of our queſtion. Thus we do vvell to congratulate, to our ſelues, our own happineſſe: if others will come to vsus, it ſhall be our comfort, but more theirs; if not, it is enough that we can ioy in our ſelues, and in him in whom we are that we are.

To Mr J. P. EP. IV. A diſcourſe of the increaſe of Popery; of the Oath of Allegeance; and the iuſt ſufferings of thoſe which hauehave refuſed it.

YOu ſay, your religion dayly winneth. Bragge not of your gaine: you neither need, nor can, if you conſider how it gets, and whom: How, but by cunning ſleights, falſe ſuggeſtions, impudent vntruths? Who cannot thus preuaile againſt a quiet and innocent aduerſarie? Whom, but ſilly women, or men notoriouſly debauched? A ſpoyle fit for ſuch a conqueſt, for ſuch Victors. We are the fewer, not the worſe: if all our licentious hypocrites vvere yours, wee ſhould not complaine: and you might be the prouder, not the better. Glory you in this triumph, free from our enuy; who know we hauehave loſt none, but (by whom you ſaue nothing) either looſe, or ſimple. It were pity that you ſhould not forgoe ſome in a better exchange. The ſea neuer incroacheth vponupon our ſhore, but it loſeth elſe-where: ſome we hauehave happily fetcht into the fold of our Church, out of your waſts; ſome others (though few, and ſcarce a number) vvee hauehave ſent into their heauen. Among theſe, your late ſecond Garnet liu'd to proclaime himſelfe a Martyr; and by dying, perſwaded. Poore man, how happy were he, if he might be his owne Iudge. That which gaue him confidence, vvould giuegive him glory: you beleeue, and wel-nere adore him. That fatall cord of his, was too little for reliques, though diuided into Mathematicke quantities. Whither cannot conceit lead vsus? vvhether for his reſolution, or your credulitie? His death vvas fearleſſe: I commend his ſtomack, not his minde. How many malefactors hauehave wee knowne that hauehave laughed vponupon their executioner, and ieſted away their laſt vvinde? You might know. It is not long ſince our Norfolke Arrian leapt at his ſtake. How oft hauehave you learned, in martyrdome to regard not the death, but the cauſe? Elſe, there ſhould be no difference in guilt and innocence, error and truth. What then? Died hee for Religion? This had bin but your owne meaſure: we endured your flames, which theſe gibbets could not acquit. But dare impudency it ſelfe affirme it? Not for meere ſhame, againſt the euidence of ſo many tongues, eares, records. Your proſperitie, your numbers argue enough, that a man may be a Papiſt in Britaine, and liue. If treaſon be your religion, vvho will vvonder that it is capitall? Defie that Deuill vvhichwhich hath mockt you with this madde opinion, that treacherie is holineſſe, deuotion crueltie and diſobedience. I foreſee your euaſion: Alas, it is eaſie for a ſpightfull conſtruction to fetch religion within this compaſſe; and to ſay the ſwelling of the Foxes forehead is a horne. Nay then, let vsus fetch ſome honeſt Heathen to be Iudge betwixt vsus: Meere nature in him ſhall ſpeake vnpartially of both. To hold and perſwade, that a Chriſtian King may, yea muſt at the Popes will be dethroaned, and murdered; is it the voice of treaſon, or religion? And if traiterous, vvhether flatly, or by miſ-inferring? Beſides his practices, for this he died; witneſſe your own Catholikes. O God, if this be religion, what can be villany? Who euer dyed a Malefactor, if this be martyrdom? If this poſition be meritorious of heauen, hell is feared in vaine. O holy Scillae, Marij, Catilines, Cades, Lopezes, Gowries, Vawxes, and who euer hauehave conſpired againſt lawfull Maieſtie! all Martyrs of Rome, all Saints of Beckets heauen. How vvell do thoſe palmes of celeſtiall triumph become hands red with the ſacred blood of Gods anointed? I am aſhamed to thinke, that humanitie ſhould nouriſh ſuch monſters, whether of men, or opinions. But you defie this ſauage factiouſneſſe, this deuotion of deuils; and honeſtly vviſh both God and Caeſar his owne. I praiſe your moderation: but if you be true, let me yet ſearch you: Can a man be a perfect Papiſt, vvithout this opinion againſt it? If he may, then your Garnet and Drurie died not for religion: if he may not, then Poperie is treaſon. Chuſe now vvhether you will leaue your Martyrs, or your Religion. What you hold of merit, free-wil, tranſubſtantiation, inuocation of Saints, falſe adoration, ſupremacy of Rome, no man preſſes, no man inquires: your preſent inquiſition, your former examples would teach vsus; mercy will not let vsus learne. The only queſtion is, Whether our King may liue and rule; whether you may refraine from his blood, and not ſinne: Would you hauehave a man denie this, and not die? Would you hauehave a man thus dying honored? Dare you approue that religion, which defends the fact, canonizes the perſon? I heare your anſwer, from that your great Champion, which not many dayes ſince, with one blow hath driuen out three (not ſlight) vvedges: That not Ciuill obedience is ſtood vponupon,The iudgement of a Catholike Engliſh-man baniſhed, &c. concerning the Apology of the Oath of Allegeance, intituled Triplici n…do, &c. but Poſitiue doctrine: That you are readie to ſweare for the Kings ſafetie; not againſt the Popes authoritie: King IAMES muſt liue and raigne; but Paulus Quintus muſt rule and be obeyed: and better were it for you to die, then your ſworne allegeance ſhould preiudice the Sea Apoſtolike. An eluſion fit for children. What is to dally, if not this? As if he ſaid, The King ſhall liue, vnleſſe the Pope will not; That hee ſhall not be diſcrowned, depoſed, maſſacred by your hands, vnleſſe your holy Father ſhould command. But (I aske, as vvho ſhould not?) What if he do command? What if your Paulus Quintus ſhould breathe out (like his predeceſſors) not threatnings, but ſtrong bellowings of Excommunications, of depoſition of Gods anointed? What if hee ſhall command (after that French faſhion) the throats of all Heretikes to bleed in a night? Pardon you in this: Now it is growne a point of doctrinall Diuinitie, to determine how farre the power of Peters ſucceſſor may extend: You may neither ſweare, nor ſay your hands ſhall not bee ſteep't in the blood of your true Soueraigne; and to die rather then ſweare it, is martyrdome. But what if heauen fall, ſay you? His Holineſſe (as you hope) vvill take none ſuch courſes. Woe vvere vsus, if our ſafety depended vponupon your hopes, or his mercies. Bleſſed be that God, which malgre hath made and kept vsus happie, and hath lift vsus aboue our enemies. But what hope is there; that he who chargeth ſubiects not to ſweare allegeance will neuer diſcharge them from allegeance; that thoſe who clamorouſly and ſhameleſſely complaine to the world of our cruelty, will forbeare to ſollicit others cruelty to vsus? Your hopes to you; to vsus our ſecurities. Is this the Religion you father vponupon thoſe Chriſtian Patriarkes of the Primitiue Age? O bleſſed Ireney, Clemens, Cyprian, Baſil, Chryſoſtome, Augustine, Ierome, and thou the ſeuereſt exactor of iuſt cenſures, holy Ambroſe! how vvould you hauehave ſp…t at ſuch a rebellious aſſertion! What ſpeake I of Fathers? whoſe very mention in ſuch a cauſe were iniury, were impiety. Which of thoſe curſed hereſies of ancient times (for to them I hold it fitter to appeale) hauehave euer bin ſo deſperately ſhameleſſe, as to breed, to maintaine a conceit ſo palpably vnnaturall; vnleſſe perhaps thoſe old Antitactae may vponupon generall termes be compelled to patronize it, vvhile they held it pietie to breake the lawes of their Maker? For you, if you profeſſe not to louelove willing errors, by this ſuſpect, and iudge the reſt: you ſee this defended with equall reſolution, and with no leſſe cheerefull expence of blood. In the body, where you ſee one monſtrous deformitie, you cannot affect; if you can doe ſo in your religion, yet how dare you? ſince the greater halfe of it ſtands on no other ground. OnelyOnly God make you wiſe, and honeſt, you ſhall ſhake hands with this faction of Popery; and I with you, to giuegive you a cheerefull welcome into the boſome of the Church.

To my brother M. SA. HALL. EP. V. A diſcourſe of the great charge of the miniſteriall function; together with particular directions for due preparation thereunto, and cariage therein.

IT is a great and holy purpoſe (deare Brother) that you hauehave entertained, of ſeruing God in his Church: for what higher, or more worthy imploiment can there be, then to do theſe diuine duties, to ſuch a maſter, and ſuch a mother? wherin yet I ſhould little reioyce, if any neceſsity had caſt you vponupon this refuge: for I hate and grieue to thinke that any deſperate mind ſhould make Diuinity but a ſhift, and diſhonour this Miſtreſſe by being forſaken of the world. This hath been the drift of your education: to this you were born, & dedicated in a direct courſe. I doe willingly incourage you, but not without many cautions. Enter not into ſo great a ſeruice, without much foreſight. When your hand is at the plow, it is too late to looke backe. Bethinke your ſelfe ſeriouſly of the weight of this charge: and let your holy deſire be allayed with ſome trembling. It is a fooliſh raſhneſſe of yong heads, when they are in Gods chaire, to wonder how they came thither, and to forget the awfulneſſe of that place, in the confidence of their owne ſtrength; which is euer ſo much leſſe, as it is more eſteemed. I commend not the waiward excuſes of Moſes, nor the peremptory vnwillingneſſe of Ammonius, and Frier Thomas, who maimed themſelues that they might be wilfully vncapable. Betwixt both theſe there is humble modeſty, and religious fearfulneſſe, eaſily to bee noted in thoſe, whom the Church honours with the name of her fathers, vvorthy your imitation: wherein yet you ſhall need no preſidents, if you well conſider vvhat worth of parts, what ſtrictneſſe of cariage, what weight of offices, God expects in this vocation. Know firſt, that in this place there wil be more holineſſe required of you, then in the ordinary ſtation of a Chriſtian: for whereas before you were but as a common line, now God ſets you for a copy of ſanctification vntounto others, vvherein eueryevery fault is both notable, and dangerous. Here is looked for a ſetled acquaintance with God, and experience both of the proceedings of grace, and of the offers and repulſes of tentations; which in vaine we ſhall hope to menage in other hearts, if we hauehave not found in our owne. To ſpeake by aime, or rote, of repentance, of contrition, of the degrees of regeneration, and faith, is both harſh, and ſeldom when, not vnprofitable. We truſt thoſe Phyſicians beſt, vvhichwhich hauehave tryed the vertue of their drugs, eſteeming not of thoſe which hauehave onelyonly borrowed of their bookes. Here will bee expected a free and abſolute gouernment of affections; that you can ſo …ere your own veſſell, as not to be tranſported with fury, with ſelfe-louelove, with immoderation of pleaſures, of cares, of deſires, with exceſſe of paſſions, in all which, ſo muſt you demeane your ſelfe, as one that thinkes hee is no man of the vvorld, but of God; as one too good (by his double calling) for that, which is either the felicitie, or impotency of beaſts. Here muſt be continuall and inward exerciſe of mortification, and ſeuere Chriſtianitie, whereby the heart is held in due awe, and the vveake flames of the ſpirit quickned, the aſhes of our dulneſſe blowne off; a practice neceſſary in him, whoſe deuotion muſt ſet many hearts on fire: Heere muſt be wiſedome, and inoffenſiueneſſe of cariage, as of one that goes euer vnderunder monitors, and that knowes other mens indifferencies are his euils. No man had ſuch need to keep a ſtrict meane. Setting aſide contempt, euen in obſeruation, behold, wee are made a gazing ſtocke to the world, to Angels, to men. The very ſayle of your eſtate muſt be moderated; which if it beare too high (as ſeldome) it incurres the cenſure of profuſion and Epicuriſme; if too low, of a baſe and vnbeſeeming earthlineſſe; your hand may not be too cloſe for others need, nor too open for your owne; your conuerſation may not be rough and ſullen, nor ouer-familiar and fawning; whereof the one breeds a conceit of pride, and ſtrangeneſſe; the other, contempt; not looſely mery, nor Cynically vnſociable; not contentious in ſmall iniuries; in great, not hurtfully patient to the Church: your attire (for whither doe not cenſures reach?) not youthfully wanton; not, in theſe yeares affectedly ancient, but graue and comely, like the minde, like the behauiour of the vvearer; your geſture like your habit, neither ſauouring of giddy lightneſſe, nor ouerly inſolence, nor wantoneſſe; nor dull neglect of your ſelfe; but ſuch, as may beſeeme a mortified minde, full of worthy ſpirits: your ſpeech like your geſture, not ſcurrilous, not detracting, not idle, not boaſting, not rotten, not peremptotorie; but honeſt, milde, fruitfull, ſauourie, and ſuch as may both argue and worke grace: your deliberations mature, your reſolutions well grounded; your deuices ſage and holy. Wherein let me aduiſe you, to vvalke euer in the beaten rode of the Church; not to runne out into ſingle paradoxes. And if you meet at any time with priuate conceits, that ſeeme more probable, ſuſpect them and your ſelfe; and if they can win you to aſſent, yet ſmother them in your breſt, and doe not dare to vent them out, either by your hand or tongue, to trouble the common peace. It is a miſerable praiſe, to bee a witty diſturber. Neither will it ſerue you to be thus good alone; but if God ſhall giuegive you the honour of this eſtate, the world will looke, you ſhould be the graue guide of a well-ordered family: for this is proper to vsus, that the vices of our charge reflect vponupon vsus; the ſinnes of others are our reproach. If another mans children miſ-cary, the Parent is pitied; if a Miniſters, cenſured; yea, not our ſeruant is faulty vvithout our blemiſh. In all theſe occaſions (a miſery incident to vsus alone) our griefe is our ſhame. To deſcend nearer vntounto the ſacred affaires of this heauenly trade; in a Miniſter Gods Church is accounted both his houſe to dwell in, and his field to worke in; vvherein (vponupon the penalty of a curſe) he faithfully, wiſely, diligently, deuoutly, deales with God for his people, with his people, for and from God. Whether he inſtruct, hee muſt doe it with euidence of the ſpirit; or whether he reproue, with courage and zeale; or whether he exhort, with meekneſſe, and yet with power; or whether he confute, with demonſtration of truth, not with rage and perſonall maliciouſneſſe, not with a wilfull heat of contradiction; or whether he admoniſh, with long-ſuffering, and louelove without preiudice, and partialitie: in a word, all theſe he ſo doth, as he that deſires nothing but to honour God, and ſaue men. His wiſdome muſt diſcerne betwixt his ſheepe and wolues; in his ſheepe, betwixt the wholeſome and vnſound; in the vnfound, betwixt the weake and tainted; in the tainted, betwixt the natures, qualities, degrees of the diſeaſe, and infection; and to all theſe he muſt know to adminiſter a word in ſeaſon: He hath Antidotes for all tentations, counſels for all doubts, euictions for all errors, for all languiſhings incouragements. No occaſion from any altered eſtate of the ſoule may finde him vnfurniſhed: He muſt aſcend to Gods Altar with much awe, with ſincere and cheerefull deuotion; ſo taking, celebrating, diſtributing is Sauiour, as thinking himſelfe at table in heauen with the bleſſed Angels. In the meane time, as he wants not a thankefull regard to the Maſter of the feaſt, ſo not care of the gueſts. The greatneſſe of an offender may not make him ſacrilegiouſly partiall, nor the obſcurity negligent. I hauehave ſaid little of any of our duties; and of ſome, nothing: yet enough, I think, to make you (if not timorous) carefull. Neither vvould I hauehave you hereupon to hide your ſelfe from this calling, but to prepare your ſelfe for it. Theſe times call for them that are faithfull: and if they may ſpare ſome learning; conſcience they can not. Goe on happily: it argues a minde Chriſtianly noble, to bee incouraged with the need of his labours, with the difficulties.

To Mrs. A. P. EP. VI. A diſcourſe of the ſignes and proofes of a true faith.

THere is no comfort in a ſecret felicitie. To be happy, and not know it, is little aboue miſerable. Such is your ſtate: onelyonly herein better then the common caſe of the moſt; that the well of life lyes open before you; but your eyes (like Agars) are not open to ſee it; vvhiles they hauehave neither water, nor eyes. We doe not much more want that which vve hauehave not, then that which we doe not know we hauehave. Let mee tell you ſome of that ſpirituall eye-ſalue which the Spirit commends to his Laodiceans; that you may clearely ſee how well you are. There is nothing but thoſe ſcales betwixt you and happineſſe. Thinke not much that I eſpy in you what your ſelfe ſees not. Too much neereneſſe oft-times hindreth ſight: and if for the ſpots of our own faces we truſt others eyes, why not for our perfections? You are in heauen, and know it not: He that beleeues, is already paſſed from death to life: You beleeue, whiles you complaine of vnbeleefe. If you complained not, I ſhould miſ-doubt you more, then you doe your ſelfe, becauſe you complaine. Secure and inſolent preſumption hath killed many, that breathes nothing but confidence and ſafety; and abandons all doubts, and condemnes them. That man neuer beleeued, that neuer doubted. This liquor of faith is neuer pure in theſe veſſels of clay, without theſe lees of diſtruſt. What then? Thinke not that I incourage you to doubt more; but perſwade you, not to bee diſcouraged with doubting. All vncertaintie is comfortleſſe: thoſe that teach men to coniecture and forbid to reſolue, reade lectures of miſery. Thoſe doubts are but to make way for aſſurance; as the oft ſhaking of the tree, faſtens it more at the root. You are ſure of God, but you are afraid of your ſelfe. The doubt is not in his promiſe, but your application. Looke into your owne heart. How know you that you know any thing, that you beleeue, that you will, that you approue, that you affect any thing? If a man, like your ſelfe, promiſe you ought, you know whether you truſt him, whether you relye your ſelfe on his fidelitie. Why can you not know it in him that is God and man? The difference is not in the act, but the obiect. But if theſe habits (becauſe of their inward and ambiguous nature) ſeeme hard to be deſcried; turne your eyes to thoſe open markes that cannot beguile you. How many hauehave bragged of their Faith, when they hauehave embraced nothing but a vaine cloud of preſumption? EueryEvery man repeats his Creed, few feele it, few practiſe it. Take two boughs in the dead of winter; how like is one wood to another? how hardly diſcerned? Afterwards, By their fruit you ſhall know them. That faith, whoſe nature was obſcure, is euident in his effects. What is faith, but the hand of the ſoule? What is the dutie of the hand, but either to hold or worke? This hand then holds Chriſt, workes obedience and holineſſe: and if this act of apprehenſion be as ſecret, as the cauſe; ſince the cloſed hand hideth ſtill what it holdeth; ſee the hand of faith open; ſee what it worketh, and compare it vvith your owne proofe. Deny if you can (yet I had rather appeale to any Iudge, then your preiudiced ſelfe) that in all your needs you can ſtep boldly to the Throne of Heauen; and freely powre out your enlarged heart to your God, and craue of him, vvhether to receiue what you vvant, or that you may vvant vvhat you hauehave, and would not. Be aſſured from God, this can be done by no power, but (that you feare to miſſe) of faith. God, as he is not, ſo he is not called a father without this. In vain doth he pray, that cannot cal God father: No father, without the ſpirit of adoption; no ſpirit, without faith: vvithout this, you may babble, you cannot pray. Aſſume you that you can pray, I dare conclude vponupon my ſoule, You beleeue. As little as you louelove your ſelfe, denie if you can, that you louelove God. Say that your Sauiour from heauen ſhould aske you Peters queſtion, could your ſoule returne any other anſwer, then Lord thou knoweſt I louelove thee? Why are you elſe in ſuch awe to offend, that a world cannot bribe you to ſinne? Why in ſuch deepe griefe vvhen you hauehave ſinned, that no mirth can refreſh you? Why in ſuch feruent deſire of enioying his preſence? Why in ſuch agony when you enioy it not? neither doth God louelove you, neither can you louelove God without faith. Yet more: Doe you willingly nouriſh any one ſinne in your breſt; do you not repent of all? Doe you not hate all, tho you cannot leaue all? Doe you not complaine that you hate them no more? Doe you not, as for life, wiſh for holineſſe, and endeuour it? Nothing but faith can thus cleanſe the heart; that like a good houſ-wife ſweeps all the foule corners of the ſoule, and will not leaue ſo much as one webbe in this roomie houſe. Truſt to it, you cannot hate ſinne for it owne ſake, and forſake it for Gods ſake, without faith; the faithleſſe hath had ſome remorſe and feares, neuer repentance. Laſtly, doe you not louelove a good man for goodneſſe, and delight in Gods Saints? Doth not your louelove leade you to compaſsion; your compaſſion to reliefe? An heart truely faithfull cannot but hauehave an hand chriſtianly bountifull: Charitie and Faith make vp one perfect paire of Compaſſes, that can take the true latitude of a Chriſtian heart: Faith is the one foot, pitcht in the centre vnmoueably, while Charitie vvalkes about, in a perfect circle of beneficence: theſe two neuer did, neither can goe aſunder. Warrant you your louelove, I dare warrant your faith: What need I ſay more? This heat of your affections, and this light of your workes, wil euince againſt all the gates of hell, that you hauehave the fire of Faith: let your ſoule then warme it ſelfe with theſe ſweet and cordiall flames, againſt all thoſe cold deſpaires, whereto you are tempted: ſay, Lord, I beleeue; and I will giuegive you leaue ſtill to adde, Helpe my vnbeleefe.

To Mr ED. ALLEYNE. EP. VII. A direction how to conceiue of God in our deuotions and meditations.

YOu hauehave choſen and iudged well: How to conceiue of the Deitie in our prayers, in our meditations, is both the deepeſt point of all Chriſtianitie, and the moſt neceſſarie: ſo deepe, that if we wade into it, we may eaſily drowne, neuer finde the bottom: ſo neceſſarie, that without it, our ſelues, our ſeruices, are prophane, irreligious: wee are all borne Idolaters, naturally prone to faſhion God to ſome forme of our owne, whether of an humane bodie, or of an admirable light; or if our minde hauehave any other more likely, and pleaſing image. Firſt then, away with all theſe wicked thoughts, theſe groſſe deuotions; and with Iacob burie all your ſtrange gods vnderunder the oake of Shechem, ere you offer to ſet vp Gods Altar at Bethel: and without all mentall repreſentations, conceiue of your God purely, ſimply, ſpiritually; as of an abſolute being, without forme, without matter, without compoſition; yea, an infinite, without all limit of thoughts. Let your heart adore a ſpirituall Maieſtie, which it cannot comprehend, yet knowes to be; and, as it were, loſe it ſelfe in his infiniteneſſe. Thinke of him, as not to be thought of; as one, whoſe wiſdome is his iuſtice, whoſe iuſtice is his power, whoſe power is his merciemercy; and whoſe wiſedome, iuſtice, power, mercy, is himſelfe; as without qualitie good, great without quantitie, euerlaſting without time, preſent eueryevery where without place, containing all things without extent: and when your thoughts are come to the higheſt, ſtay there, and be content to vvonder, in ſilence: and if you cannot reach to conceiue of him as he is, yet take heed you conceiue not of him as he is not. Neither will it ſuffice your Chriſtian mind, to hauehave this awefull and confuſed apprehenſion of the Deitie, without a more ſpeciall and inward conceit of three in this one; three perſons in this one eſſence, not diuided, but diſtinguiſhed; and not more mingled then diuided. There is nothing, vvherein the vvant of words can wrong and grieue vsus, but in this: Here alone, as we can adore, and not conceiue, ſo we can conceiue, and not vtter; yea, vtter our ſelues, and not be conceiued; yet as wee may, Thinke here of one ſubſtance in three ſubſiſtences; one eſſence in three relations; one IEHOVAH begetting, begotten, proceeding; Father, Sonne, Spirit: yet ſo, as the Son is no other thing from the Father, but another perſon; or the Spirit, from the Sonne. Let your thoughts here vvalke warily, the path is narrow: the conceit either of three ſubſtances or but one ſubſiſtence, is damnable. Let me lead you yet higher, and further, in this intricate vvay, towards the Throne of grace: All this will not auaile you, if you take not your Mediator with you: if you apprehend not a true manhood, gloriouſly vnited to the Godhead, without change of either nature, without mixture of both; whoſe preſence, vvhoſe merits muſt giuegive paſſage, acceptance, vigour to your prayers.

Here muſt be therefore (as you ſee) thoughts holily mixed: of a Godhead and humanitie: one perſon in two natures: of the ſame Deitie, in diuers perſons, and one nature: wherein (if euer) heauenly wiſdome muſt beſtir it ſelfe, in directing vsus, ſo to ſeuer theſe apprehenſions, that none be neglected; ſo to conioyne them that they bee not confounded. O the depth of diuine myſteries, more then can be wondred at! O the neceſſitie of this high knowledge, which vvho attaines not, may babble, but prayeth not? Still you doubt, and aske if you may not direct your prayers to one perſon of three. Why not? Safely, and with comfort. What need we feare, while wee hauehave our Sauiour for our patterne: O my father (if poſsible) let this Cup paſſe: and Paul eueryevery where both in thanks and requeſts: but with due care of worſhipping all in one. Exclude the other, while you fix your heart vponupon one, your prayer is ſinne; retaine all, and mention one, you offend not. None of them doth ought for vsus, without all. It is a true rule of Diuines: All their externall workes are common: To ſollicit one therefore, and not all, were iniurious. And if you ſtay your thoughts vponupon the ſacred humanitie of Chriſt, with inſeparable adoration of the Godhead vnited, and thence climbe vp to the holy conceit of that bleſſed and dreadfull Trinity, I dare not cenſure, I dare not but commend your diuine method. Thus ſhould Chriſtians aſcend from earth to heauen, from one heauen to another. If I hauehave giuen your deuotions any light, it is well: the leaſt glimpſe of this knowledge is vvorth all the full gleames of humane and earthly skill. But I miſtake, if your owne heart wrought vponupon with ſerious meditations (vnderunder that ſpirit of illumination) will not proue your beſt maſter. After this vveake direction, ſtudie to conceiue aright; that you may pray aright; and pray that you may conceiue; and meditate that you may doe both: and the God of heauen direct you, inable you, that you may doe all.

To M. THOMAS IAMES of Oxford. EP. VIII. A diſcourſe of the grounds of the Papiſts confidence in appealing to the Fathers: applauding his worthy offers and indeauors of diſcouering the falſifications and deprauations of antiquity.

SIR, I know no man ſo like as you to make poſterity his debter. I doe heartily congratulate vntounto you ſo worthy labours, ſo noble a proiect. Our aduerſaries knowing of themſelues (that which Tertullian ſaith of all hereſies) that if appeale bee made to the ſacred bench of Prophets and Apoſtles, they cannot ſtand; remoue the ſuit of religion craftily, into the Court of the Fathers: A reuerend triall, as any vnderunder heauen; where, it cannot be ſpoken, how confidently they triumph ere the conflict. GiueGive vsus the Fathers for our Iudges (ſay Campian and Poſſeuine) the day is ours. And whence is this courage? Is antiquity our enemy, their aduocate? Certainly it cannot bee truth that is new: We would renounce our Religion, if it could be ouer-lookt for time. Let goe equity, the older take both. There bee two things then, that giuegive them heart in this prouocation: One, the baſtardy of falſe Fathers; the other, the corruption of the true. What a flouriſh doe they make with vſurped names? Whom would it not amaze to ſee the frequent citations of the Apoſtles owne Canons, Conſtitutions, Liturgies, Maſſes: of Clemens, Dennys the Areopagite, Linus, Hippolitus, Martiall, of Burdeaux, Egeſippus; Donations of Conſtantine the great, and Lewis the godly: Of 50 Canons of Nice: of Dorotheus, Damaſus his Pontificall; Epiſtles decretall of Clemens, Euariſtus, Teleſphorus, and an hundred other Biſhops holy and ancient; of Euodius, Anaſtaſius, Simeon Metaphraſtes, and moe yet then a number moe; moſt whereof hauehave crept out of the Vatican, or Cloiſters; and all cary in them manifeſt brands of falſhood, and ſuppoſition; that I may ſay nothing of thoſe infinite writings, which either ignorance, or wilfulneſſe, hath fathered vponupon eueryevery of the Fathers, not without ſhameleſſe importunity, and groſſe impoſſibilities: all which (as ſhee ſaid of Peter) their ſpeech bewrayeth; or (as Auſten ſaid of Cyprians ſtile) their face. This fraud is more eaſily auoided: For as in notorious burglaries, oft-times there is either an hat, or a gloue, or a weapon left behind, which deſcrieth the authors; ſo the God of truth hath beſotted theſe impoſtors to let fall ſome palpable error, (though but of falſe calculation) whereby, if not their names, yet their ages might appeare, to their conuiction. Moſt danger is in the ſecret corruption of the true and acknowledged iſſue of thoſe gracious parents; whom, through cloſe and crafty handling, they hauehave induced to belye thoſe that begot them; and to betray their Fathers, either with ſilence, or falſe euidence. Plainly, how are the honoured Volumes of faithfull antiquity, blurred, interlined, altered, depraued by ſubtle trechery; and made to ſpeake what they meant not? Fie on this, not ſo much iniuſtice, as impiety, to race the awefull monuments of the dead, and partially to blot and change the originall Will of the deceaſed, inſert our owne Legacies. This is done by our guilty aduerſaries, to the iniury not more of theſe Authors, then of the preſent and ſucceeding times. Hence thoſe Fathers are ſome-where not ours: What wonder? while they are not themſelues. Your induſtry hath offered (and that motion is liuely, and heroicall) to challenge all their learned and elegant pages, from iniury of corruption; to reſtore them to themſelues, and to vsus: that which all the learned of our times hauehave but deſired to ſee done, you proffer to effect: your aſſay in Cyprian and Auguſtine is happy, and iuſtly applauded. All our Libraries, whom your diligent hand hath ranſackt, offer their ayd, in ſuch abundance of manuſcripts, as all Europe would enuy to ſee met in one Iland. After all this, for that the moſt ſpightfull imputation to our Truth is nouelty, you offer to deduce her pedegree from thoſe primitiue times, through the ſucceſſions of all ages; and to bring into the light of the world many (as yet obſcure) but no leſſe certaine and authenticall Patrons, in a continued line of defence. You hauehave giuen proofe enough, that theſe are no glorious vaunts, but the zealous challenges of an able Champion. What wanteth then? Let mee ſay for you: Not an heart, not an head, not an hand; but (which I almoſt ſcorne to name in ſuch a cauſe) a purſe. If this continue your hinderance, it will not be more our loſſe then ſhame. Heare me a little, yee great and wealthy: Hath God loaded you with ſo much ſubſtance; and will you not lend him a little of his owne? Shall your riot bee fed with exceſſe; while Gods cauſe ſhall ſtarue for want? Shall our aduerſaries ſo inſultingly out-bid vsus; and in the zeale of our profuſion laugh at our heartleſſe and cold niggardlineſſe? Shall heauenly truth lie in the duſt for want of a little ſtamped earth to raiſe her? How can you ſo much any way honor God, yea your ſelues, deſerue of poſterity, pleaſure the Church, and make you ſo good friends of your Mammon? Let not the next Age ſay, that ſhe had ſo vnkind predeceſſors. Fetch forth of your ſuperfluous ſtore, and caſt in your rich gifts into this treaſurie of the Temple. The Lord and his Church hauehave need. For you, it angers me to ſee how that flattering Poſſeuinus ſmoothly intices you from vsus with golden offers, vponupon the aduantage of our neglect; as if he (meaſuring your mind by his owne) thought an Omnia dabo would bring you with himſelfe on your knees to worſhip the deuill, the beaſt, the image of both: as if we were not as able to incourage, to reward deſert. Hath Vertue no Patrons on this ſide the Alpes? Are thoſe hils onelyonly the threſholds of honour? I plead not, becauſe I cannot feare you: But who ſees not how munificently our Church ſcattereth her bountifull fauours vponupon leſſe merit. If your day be not yet come, expect it; God and the Church owe you a benefit; if their payment be long, it is ſure. OnelyOnly goe you on with courage, in thoſe your high endeauors; and in the meane time, thinke it great recompence to hauehave deſerued.

To Mr E.A. EP. IX. A Diſcourſe of fleeing or ſtay in the time of peſtilence; whether lawfull for Miniſter or people.

HOw many hath a ſeduced conſcience led vntimely to the graue? I ſpeake of this ſad occaſion of Peſtilence. The Angell of God followes you, and you doubt whether you ſhould flye. If a Lyon out of the foreſt ſhould purſue you, you would make no queſtion: yet could he not doe it vnſent. What is the difference? Both inſtruments of diuine reuenge; both threaten death; one by ſpilling the blood, the other by infecting it. Who knowes whether he hath not appointed your Zoar out of the liſts of this deſtruction? You ſay it is Gods viſitation. What euill is not? If warre hauehave waſted the confines of your Country, you ſaue your throats by flight: Why are you more fauourable to Gods immediate ſword of peſtilence? Very leproſie, by Gods law, requires a ſeparation; yet no mortall ſickneſſe. When you ſee a noted Leper proclaime his vncleanneſſe in the ſtreet, will you embrace him for his ſake that hath ſtricken him, or auoid him for his ſake that hath forbidden you? If you honour his rod, much more will you regard his precept. If you miſlike not the affliction becauſe he ſends it, then louelove the life which you hauehave of his ſending; feare the iudgement which he will ſend, if you louelove it not. He that bids vsus flee when we are perſecuted, hath neither excepted Angell nor man; whether ſoeuer, I feare our guiltineſſe, if wilfully we flee not. But whither ſhall we flee from God? ſay you: where ſhall he not both find and lead vsus? whither ſhall not our deſtiny follow vsus? Vaine men, we may runne from our home, not from our graue; Death is ſubtle, our time is ſet; we cannot, God will not alter it. Alas, how wiſe we are to wrong our ſelues! Becauſe Death will ouer-take vsus, ſhall we runne and meet him? Becauſe Gods decree is ſure, ſhall we be deſperate? Shall we preſume, becauſe God changeth not? Why doe we not trye eueryevery knife and cord, ſince our time is neither capable of preuention nor delay: our end is ſet, not without our meanes. In matter of danger where the end is not knowne, the meanes muſt be ſuſpected; in matter of hope where the end is not knowne, meanes muſt be vſed. Vſe then freely the meanes of your flight, ſuſpect the danger of your ſtay; and ſince there is no particular neceſſity of your preſence, know that God bids you depart and liue. You vrge the inſtance of your Miniſter: How vnequally? There is not more lawfulneſſe in your flight, then ſin in ours: you are your owne; wee our peoples: you are charged with a body, which you may not willingly leeſe, not hazard by ſtaying; wee with all their ſoules: which to hazard by abſence, is to loſe our owne: we muſt louelove our liues; but not when they are riuals with our ſoules, or with others. How much better is it to bee dead, then negligent, then faithleſſe! If ſome bodies be contagiouſly ſicke, ſhall all ſoules bee wilfully neglected? There can be no time wherein good counſell is ſo ſeaſonable, ſo needfull. EueryEvery threatning finds impreſſion, where the mind is prepared by ſenſible iudgements. When will the ironhearts of men bow, if not when they are heat in the flame of Gods affliction? now then to runne away from a neceſſary and publike good, to auoid a doubtfull and priuate euill, is to runne into a worſe euill then wee would auoid. He that will thus runne from Niniue to Tharſis, ſhall find a tempeſt, and a whale in his way. Not that I dare be an author to any, of the priuate viſitation of infected beds: I dare not without better warrant. VVho euer ſaid wee were bound to cloſe vp the dying eyes of eueryevery departing Chriſtian? and vponupon what-euer conditions, to heare their laſt grones? If we had a word, I would not debate of the ſucceſſe. Then, that were cowardlineſſe, which now is wiſedome. Is it no ſeruice, that wee publikely teach and exhort? that we priuately prepare men for death, and arme them againſt it? that our comfortable letters and meſſages ſtir vp their fainting hearts? that our loud voyces pierce their eares afarre; vnleſſe we feele their pulſes, and leane vponupon their pillowes, and whiſper in their eares? Daniel is in the Lyons den; Is it nothing that Darius ſpeakes comfort to him thorow the grate, vnleſſe he goe in to ſalute him among thoſe fierce companions? A good Miniſter is the common goods: hee cannot make his life peculiar to one, without iniury to many. In the common cauſe of the Church, he muſt be no niggard of his life; in the priuate cauſe of a neighbours bodily ſickneſſe, he may ſoone be prodigall. A good father may not ſpend his ſubſtance on one child, and leaue the reſt beggers. If any man be reſolute in the contrary, I had rather praiſe his courage, then imitate his practice. I confeſſe, I feare; not ſo much death, as want of warrant for death.

To M. R. B. EP. X. A complaint of the iniquity of the Times; with a preſcription of the meanes to redreſſe it.

WHiles I accuſed the Times, you vndertooke their patronage. I commend your charity, not your cauſe. It is true: There was neuer any Age not complained of; neuer any that was not cenſured, as worſt. VVhat is, we ſee; what was, we neither inquire nor care. That which is out of ſight and vſe, is ſoone out of mind, and ere long out of memory. Yet the iniquity of others, cannot excuſe ours. And if you will be but as iuſt as charitable, you ſhall confeſſe, that both ſome times exceed others in euill; duplicate page duplicate page and theſe, all. This earthly Moone the Church hath her fuls and wainings, and ſometimes her eclypſes; whiles the ſhadow of this ſinfull maſſe hides her beauty from the world. So long as ſhe wadeth in this planetary world, it ſhould be vaine to expect better: it is enough when ſhe is fixed aboue, to be free from all change. This you yeeld: but nothing can perſwade you, that ſhee is not now in the full of her glory. True: or elſe ſhe were not ſubiect to this darkning. There was neuer more light of knowledge; neuer more darkneſſe of impiety: and there could not be ſuch darkneſſe, if there were not ſuch light. Goodneſſe repulſed, giues height to ſin: therefore are we worſe then our predeceſſors, becauſe we might be better. By how much our meanes are greater, by ſo much are our defects. Turne ouer all records; and parallell ſuch helps, ſuch care, ſuch coſt, ſuch expectation, with ſuch fruit, I yeeld: We ſee but our owne times: There was neuer but one Noah (whom the Heathen celebrate vnderunder another name) that with two faces ſaw both before and behind him: But loe, that Ancient of dayes, to whom all times are preſent, hath told vsus, that theſe laſt ſhal be worſt: Our experience iuſtifies him, with all but the wilfull. This cenſure (leſt you ſhould condemne my rigour, as vnnaturally partiall) is not confined to our ſeas; but, free and common, hath the ſame bounds with the earth. I ioy not in this large ſociety. Would God we were euill alone. How few are thoſe, whoſe cariage doth not ſay, that profeſſion of any conſcience is puſillanimity? How few that care ſo much, as to ſhew well? And yet of thoſe few, how many care onelyonly to ſeeme? whoſe words diſagree from their actions, and their hearts from their words? Where ſhall a man mew vp himſelfe, that he may not be a witneſs of what he would not? What can he ſee, or heare, and not bee either ſad or guilty? Oathes ſtriue for number with words; ſcoffes with oathes, vaine ſpeeches with both. They are rare hands, that are free either from aſperſions of blood, or ſpots of filthineſſe. Let mee bee at once (as I vſe) bold and plaine: VVanton exceſſe, exceſſiue pride, cloſe Atheiſme, impudent profaneneſſe, vnmercifull oppreſſion, ouer-mercifull conniuence, greedy couetouſneſſe, looſe prodigality, ſimoniacall ſacriledge, vnbrideled luxury, beaſtly drunkenneſſe, bloody treachery, cunning fraud, ſlanderous detraction, enuious vnderminings, ſecret idolatry, hypocriticall faſhionableneſſe, hauehave ſpred themſelues all ouer the world. The Sunne of peace looking vponupon our vncleane heaps, hath bred theſe monſters, and hath giuen light to this brood of darkneſſe. Looke about you, and ſee if three great Idols, Honour, Pleaſure, Gaine, hauehave not ſhared the earth amongſt them, and left him leaſt, whoſe all is. Your deniall driues mee to particulars. I vrge no further. If any aduerſary inſult in my confeſſion, tell him, that I account them the greateſt part of this euill; neither could thus complaine, if they were not. VVho knowes not, that as the earth is the dregs of the world, ſo Italy is the dregs of the earth, Rome of Italy? It is no wonder to finde Satan in his Hell; but to find him in Paradiſe, is vncouth, and grieuous. Let them alone that will dye and hate to be cured. For vsus: O that remedies were as eaſie as complaints! That we could be as ſoone cleared, as conuinced! That the taking of the medicine were but ſo difficult as the preſcription! And yet nothing hinders vsus from health, but our wil: neither Goſpell, nor Grace, nor Glory, are ſhut vp; onelyonly our hearts are not open. Let me turne my ſtile from you, to the ſecure, to the peruerſe, tho why doe I hope they will heare mee, that are deafe to God? they will regard words, that care not for iudgements? Let me tell them yet (if in vaine) they muſt breake, if they bow not: That if mercy may be refuſed, yet vengeance cannot be reſiſted: that God can ſerue himſelfe of them perforce, neither to their thanke nor eaſe: that the preſent plagues doe but threaten worſe. Laſtly, that if they relent not, hell was not made for nothing. What ſhould be done then? Except we would faine ſmart, each man amend one, and we all liue. How commonly doe men complaine, and yet adde to this heape? Redreſſe ſtands not in words. Let eueryevery man pull but one brand out of this fire, and the flame will goe out alone. What is a multitude, but an heape of vnities? The more we deduce, the fewer we leaue. O how happy were it then, if eueryevery man would begin at home, and take his owne heart to task, and at once be his owne Accuſer, and Iudge; to condemne his priuate errors, yea to mulct them with death! Till then, alas, what auailes it to talke? While eueryevery man cenſures, and no man amends, what is it but buſie trifling? But tho our care muſt begin at our ſelues, it may not end there. Who but a Cain is not his brothers keeper? Publike perſons are not ſo much their owne, as others are theirs. Who ſits at the common ſterne, cannot diſtinguiſh betwixt the care of his owne ſafety, and his veſſels: both drowne at once, or at once ſalute the hauen. Ye Magiſtrates (for in you ſtand al our lower hopes) whom God hath on purpoſe, in a wiſe ſurrogation, ſet vponupon earth, to correct her diſorders, take to your ſelues firme fore-heads, courageous hearts, hands buſie, and not partiall; to diſcountenance ſhameleſſe wickedneſſe, to reſiſt the violent ſway of euils, to execute wholeſome lawes, with ſtrictnes, with reſolutiō. The ſword of the Spirit meets with ſuch iron hearts, that it both enters not, and is rebated. Loe, it appeales to your arme, to your ayd. An earthen edge can beſt pierce this hardned earth: If iniquity die not by your hands, we periſh. And ye ſonnes of Leui gather to your Moſes in the gate of the Campe: conſecrate your hands to God in this holy ſlaughter of vice: Let your voice be both a trumpet to incite, and a two-edged ſword to wound and kill. Cry downe ſinne in earneſt, and thunder out of that ſacred chaire of Moſes; and let your liues ſpeake yet louder. Neither may the common Chriſtian ſit ſtill and looke on in ſilence: I am deceiued, if in this cauſe God allow any man for priuate. Here muſt bee all actors, no witneſſes. His diſcreet admonitions, ſeaſonable reproofes, and prayers neuer vnſeaſonable, beſides the power of honeſt example, are expected as his due tribute to the common health: What if we cannot turne the ſtreame? Yet we muſt ſwim againſt it: euen without conqueſt, it is glorious to hauehave reſiſted: in this alone, they are enemies, that doe nothing. Thus, as one that delights more in amendment, then excuſe, I hauehave both cenſured and directed. The fauour of your ſentence proceeds (I know) from your owne innocent vprightneſſe: So iudge of my ſeuere taxation. It ſhall be happy for vsus, if wee can at once excuſe and diminiſh; accuſe and redreſſe iniquity. Let but the indeuour be ours, the ſucceſſe to GOD.

EPISTLES. THE THIRD AND LAST VOLVME.

CONTAINING TWO DECADS.

BY IOS. HALL.

LONDON, Printed for THOMAS PAVIER, MILES FLESHER, and John Haviland. 1624.

TO THE MOST HIGH AND EXCELLENT PRINCE, HENRY, PRINCE of WALES, All happineſſe.

MOſt Gratious Prince:

LEt me not (whiles I deſire to be dutifull) ſeeme importunate, in my dedications. J now bring to your Highneſſe theſe my laſt, and perhaps moſt materiall Letters: wherein, if J miſtake not, (as, how eaſily are wee deceiued in our owne?) the pleaſure of the variety ſhall ſtriue with the importance of matter. There is no worldly thing, I confeſſe, whereof I am more ambitious, then of your Highneſſes contentment; which that you place in goodneſſe, is not more your glory, then our ioy. Doe ſo ſtill, and heauen and earth ſhall agree to bleſſe you, and vsus in you. For me, after this my officious boldneſſe, I ſhall betake my ſelfe in ſilence, to ſome greater worke, wherein J may approue my ſeruice to the Church, and to your Highneſſe, as her ſecond ioy and care. My heart ſhall be alwayes, and vponupon all opportunities, my tongue and pen ſhall no leſſe gladly be deuoted to my gratious Maſter, as one

Who reioyce to be your Highneſſes (though vnworthy, yet) faithfull and obſequious Seruant, IOS. HALL.