I Humbly be­seech you, both in re­spect of the honour [Page 2] of God, your duty to his Church, and the comfort of you [...] own soule, that you seriously consider in what tearmes you stand; and weigh your selfe in a Chri­stian Ballance, ta­king for your coun­terpoise the Iudge­ments of God: Take heede in time tha [...] the word Tekall [Page 3] written of olde a­gainst Balthazar, and interpreted by Dani­ell, be not verified in you, whose exposi­tion was, You have beene poysed in the scale, and found of too lightweight.

Remember, that you are now in the weining, and the date of your pilgri­mage well nigh ex­pired, [Page 4] and now th [...] it behoveth you [...] looke towards yo [...] Countrey, your fo [...]ces languisheth, yo [...] senses impaire, yo [...] body droops, and [...] every side the [...]nous Cottage [...] your faint, & feebl [...] flesh threatneth fall. And having many harbingers death to premoni [...] [Page 5] you of your end, how can you but prepare for so dread­full a stranger. The young man may die quickly, but the old cannot live long: the young mans life by casualty may bee a­bridged, but the old mans by no Phisick can be long adiour­ned, and therefore if greene yeares should [Page 6] sometimes think [...] of the grave, th [...] thoughts of old ag [...] should continually dwell in the same.

The prerogativ [...] of Infancie is inno­cencie; of Childe­hoode, reverence of Man-hood, ma­turitie; and of old age, wisedome.

And seeing then that the chiefest pro­perties [Page 7] of wisedome are to be mindefull of things past, care­full for things pre­sent, and provident for things to come; Vse you now the pri­vilege of natures tal­lent to the benefit of your owne soule, and procure hereaf­ter to be wise in wel­doing, and watch­full in the foresight [Page 8] of future harm [...] To serve the wo [...] you are now unabl [...] and though y [...] were able, yet y [...] have little cause [...] bee willing, seei [...] that it never ga [...] you but an unhapp [...] welcome, a hurtf [...] entertainment, an [...] now doth abando [...] you with an unfo [...]tunate farewell.

[Page 9]You have long sowed in a field of flint, which could bring you nothing forth but a crop of cares, and afflictions of spirit; rewarding your labours with remorse, and affor­ding for your gaine, eternall danger.

It is now more than a seasonable time to alter the [Page 10] course of so unth [...]ving a husbandr [...] and to enter into t [...] field of Gods chur [...] in which, sowi [...] the seed of repenta [...] sorrow, and wa [...]ring them with [...] teares of humb [...] contrition, you ma [...] hereafter reape a more beneficial ha [...]vest, and gather th [...] fruits of everlasti [...] comfort.

[Page 11]Remember, I pray you, that your spring is spent, your sum­mer overpast, you are now arrived at the fall of the leafe, yea, and winter co­lors have long since stained your hoarie head.

Bee not carelesse, (saith Saint Augustin) though our loving Lord bear long with [Page 12] offenders; for [...] longer he stayes, [...] finding amēdmen [...] the soarer hee [...] scourge when [...] comes to Iudg [...]ment: And his p [...]tience in so long fo [...]bearing, is onely [...] lend us respit to [...]pent, and not a [...] wise to inlarge [...] leisure to sinne.

Hee that is to [...] [Page 13] with varietie of stormes, and cannot come to his desired port, maketh not much way; but is much tormoyled; So hee that hath pas­sed many yeares, and purchased little pro­fit, hath had a long being, but a short life; For, life is more to bee measured by wel doing, than by [Page 14] number of ye [...] Seeing that [...] men by many [...] do but procure [...]ny deaths, & o [...] in short space [...] to the life of inf [...] ages; what is [...] body without [...] soule, but a co [...] carkasse▪ And [...] is the soule with [...] God, but a sepul [...] of sinne?

[Page 15]If God bee the way, the life, and the truth; he that go­eth without him, strayeth; and he that liveth without him, dyeth; and he that is not taught by him, erreth.

Well (saith Saint Augustine) God is our true, & chiefest life, from whom to re­volt, is to fall; to [Page 16] whom to returne to rise, and in wh [...] to stay, is to sta [...] sure.

God is hee fro [...] whom to depart [...] to dye; to whom [...] repaire, is to reviv [...] and in whom [...] dwel, is life for ever▪ Bee not then of [...] number of the [...] that beginne not [...] live, till they bee r [...]dy [Page 17] to dye: and then, after a foes desert, come to crave of God a friends enter­tainment.

Some there be that thinke to snatch heaven in a mo­ment, which the best can scarce attaine unto in the mainte­nāce of many years, and when they have glutted themselves [Page 18] with worldly [...]lights, would j [...] from Dives dyet, [...] Lazarus Crown [...] from the service [...] Satan, to the sol [...] of a Saint.

But bee you w [...] assured, that God not [...] so penurions [...] friends, as to h [...] himselfe and [...] kingdome scaleab [...] for the refuse a [...] [Page 19] [...]eversions of their [...]ives, who have sa­ [...]rificed the princi­ [...]all thereof to his e­ [...]emies, and their [...]wne brutish lust; [...]hen onely ceasing [...] offend, when the [...]bilitie of offending [...] taken from them.

True it is, that a [...]hiefe may be saved [...]pon the crosse, and mercie found at the [Page 20] last gaspe: But [...] (saith Saint Aug [...] though it bee p [...]ble, yet it is sc [...] credible, that [...] death should [...] favour, whose w [...] life deserved de [...] and that the rep [...]tance should bee [...]cepted, that [...] for feare of hell, [...] love of himself, [...] for the love of [...] [Page 21] and loathsomnesse of sinne cryeth for mercie.

Wherefore, good Sir, make no longer delayes; but being so neer the breaking up of your mortall house, take time be­fore extremitie, to pacifie Gods anger.

Though you suf­fered the bud to bee blasted, though you [Page 22] permitted the [...] to bee perished, [...] the leaves to dry [...] yea, though you [...] the boughs to [...]ther, and the bo [...] of your tree to gr [...] to decay; yet (ala [...] keep life in the ro [...] for feare lest [...] whole tree becom [...] fewell for hell fire▪ For surely where t [...] tree falleth, there [Page 23] shall lye, whether towards the South, or to the North, to heaven, or to hell; and such sap as it bringeth forth, such fruite shall it ever beare.

Death hath alrea­dy filed from you the better part of your naturall forces, and left you now to the Lees and remis­sals [Page 24] of your we [...]ish and dying day▪

The remain [...] wherof as it can [...] bee long, so doth warne you speed [...] to ransom your fo [...]mer losses; for wh [...] is age, but the [...]lends of death, a [...] what import [...] your present weak [...]nesse, but a nearne [...] of your approchi [...] [Page 25] dissolution, you are now imbarked in your finall voyage, and not farre from the stint and period of your course.

Bee not therefore unprovided of such appurtenances as are behoovefull in so perplexed and peri­lous a journy; death it selfe is very feare­full, but much more [Page 26] terrible in respect [...] the judgment i [...] summoneth us un [...]to.

If you were no [...] laid upon your de­parting bed, burthe­ned with the heavi [...] load of your forme [...] trespasses, and gore [...] with the sting and pricke of a festered Conscience; if yo [...] felt the crampe of [Page 27] death wresting your heart-strings, and ready to make the rufull divorce be­tweene bodie and soule: If you lay panting for breath, and swimming in a cold and pale sweat wearied with strug­ling against your deadly pangs, O what would you give for an houres [Page 29] repentance; at w [...] rate would you [...]lue a dayes contri [...]on: Then wor [...] would bee wo [...]lesse in respect of little respite, a sh [...] truce would see [...] more precious t [...] the trersures of [...] Empire, nothi [...] would bee so muc [...] esteemed as a sh [...] trice of time, whi [...] [Page 28] now by dayes, and moneths; and years, is most lavishly mis­spent.

Oh how deepely would it wound your woefull heart, when looking back into your former life, you considered many hainous, and horrible offences cō ­mitted, many pious workes, and godly [Page 30] deeds omitted, [...] neither of both [...]pented, your ser [...] to God promis [...] and not perform [...]

Oh how un [...]solably were [...] case, your frie [...] being fled, your [...]ses affrighted, y [...] thoughts ama [...] yor memory d [...]cayed, and y [...] whole mind ag [...] [Page 31] and no part able to performe what it should; but onely your guilty Consci­ence pestered with sinne, that would continually upbraid you with many bit­ter accusations.

Oh what would you thinke then, be­ing stripped out of this mortall weede, and turned out both [Page 32] of service, and h [...] room of this wic [...] world, you are [...]ced to enter into [...]couth and stra [...] pathes, and [...] unknowne and [...]ly company to [...] convented befo [...] most severe Iudg [...] carrying in y [...] conscience your [...]ditement, writ [...] in a perfect Regist [...] [Page 33] of all your misdeeds, when you shall see him prepared to give sentence upon you, against whom you have so often transgressed, and the same to bee your Vmpire, whom by so many offences you have made your enemies, when not onely the Divel, but even the Angels [Page 34] would plead agai [...] you, and your ow [...] selfe, in despight [...] your selfe, bee y [...] owne most shar [...] appeacher.

Oh what wou [...] you doe in th [...] dreadfull exige [...] when you saw [...] gastly Dragon, a [...] huge gulph of he [...] breaking out wi [...] most fearfull flam [...] [Page 35] when you heard the weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth; the rage of those hellish mon­sters, the horror of the place, the terror of the company, and the eternity of all those torments.

Would you then thinke them wise that should delay in so weighty matters, [Page 36] and idlely play a [...] the time alotted, [...] preuent these into [...]lerable calamitie [...] Would you thē c [...] it secure to nurse your bosomes many Serpents sinnes? and to fo [...] in your souls so [...]ny malitious ace [...]sors, as mortall [...] horrible offence▪ Would you [...] [...] [Page 41] [...]hant, whose traf­ [...]ique is toyle, whose wealth is trash, and whose gaine is mi [...]erie: what interest haue you reaped, that might equall your detriment in grace and vertue? or what could you find in the vale of teares, that was answera­ble to the favour of God, with losse [Page 42] whereof, you [...] contented to [...] it.

You cannot [...] be inveigled [...] the passiōs of yo [...] which making a [...]tialitie of things, [...] no distance betw [...] counterfeit and [...] ­rant, for these [...] now worne out [...] force, by tract [...] time are fallen i [...] [Page 43] reproofe by triall of their folly.

Oh let not the crazy cowardnesse of flesh and bloud daunt the prowesse of an intelligent per­son, who by his wisedome cannot but discerne how much more cause there is, and how much more neede­full it is to serve God [Page 45] then this wic [...] world.

But if it bee [...] ungrounded [...]sumption of [...] mercie of God, [...] the hope of his [...]stance at the [...] plunge (which [...]deede is the ordi [...]ry lure of the div [...] to reclaime sin [...] from the pursuit [...] Repentance. Al [...] [Page 44] [...]hat is too palpable a collusion to mis­lead a sound and ser­viceable man, how­soever it may pre­vaile with sicke and [...] affected iudge­ments: who would relye upon eternall affaires upon the gli­ding slippernesse, and rūning streames of our uncertaine life? who, but one of [Page 46] of distempered [...] would offer [...] to the discipher [...] all thoughts; [...] whom dissembl [...] may to our cost [...] to deceive him unpossible.

Shall we estee [...] it cunning to r [...] the time from [...] and bestow it o [...] enemies, who [...]peth tale of the [...] [Page 47] minutes, and will examine in the end how every moment hath beene imploy­ed. It is a preposte­rous kinde of polli­cy in any wise con­ceit to fight against God, till our wea­pons be blunted, our forces consumed, our limbs impotent, and our best time spent; & then when [Page 48] we fal for faintness [...] and have fou [...] our selves alm [...] dead to presume [...] his mercy.

Oh! no, no, [...] wounds of his m [...]sacred body so [...] rubbed, and ren [...] ­ed by your sinnes, [...] every part and [...]cell of our bodies divers, and sim [...] waies abused, [...] [Page 49] be then as so many wherstones & incen­tives to edge & exas­perate his most just revenge against vs.

It is a strange peece of Art, and a very exorbitant course, when the ship is sound, the Pylot well, the Marriners strong, the gale fa­uourable, & the Sea calme to lye idlely [Page 50] at the road, burni [...] so seasonable w [...]ther; And when [...] Ship leaketh, the [...]lott sicke, the ma [...]ners faint, the sto [...] boysterous, and [...] Seas a turmoyle [...] outragious surg [...] then to launch [...] (hoise up saile) [...] set out for a l [...] voyage into a [...] Countrey.

[Page 51]Yet such is the skil of these evening Repenters, who though in the soūd­nesse of their health, and perfect use of their reason; they cannot resolve to cut the Cables, & weigh the Anchor that with-holds thē from God.

Nevertheles, they feed themselves with [Page 52] a strong perswas [...] that when they [...] astonied, their [...] distracted, the [...]derstanding dus [...] and the bodies [...] soules wracked, [...] tormented with [...] throbs, and grip [...] a mortall sickn [...] then forsooth [...] will begin to thi [...] of their weigh [...] matters, and bec [...] [Page 53] sudden Saints, when they are scarce able to behave themselves like reasonable crea­tures.

No, no if neither the Cannon, Civill, nor the Common Law will allow that man (perished in judgement) should make any testament of his temporal sub­stance, [Page 54] [...]ow [...] hee that is anima [...] with inward [...] boyles of an u [...] ­led Conscience, [...]strained with [...] ringing fits of [...] dying flesh, mai [...] in all his abilitie, [...] circled in on ev [...] side with many [...] strange incombar [...]ces be thought [...]due discretion to [...]spose [Page 55] of his chiefest Iewell, which is his Soule, and to di­spatch the whole mannage of all eter­nity, and of the trea­sures of heaven in so short a spurt.

No, no, they that will loyter in seede­time, and begin to sow when others reape; they that will ryot out their health, [Page 56] and beginne to [...] their accounts [...] they are scarce [...] to speake. They [...] will slumber [...] the day, and [...] their journey w [...] the light doth [...] them, let th [...] blame their o [...] folly if they dye [...] debt and ete [...] beggers, and [...] headlong into [...] [Page 57] lap of endlesse per­dition.

Let such listen to Saint Cyprians les­son, Let, saith he, the grievousnesse of our sore be the measure of our sorrow; let a deepe wound have a deepe and diligent cure; Let no mans con­trition be lesse then his crime.