COme and see. Were it some stately, some pleasing, yea or but some vaine sight such as Mordecay riding on the kings Horse in pompe with the Royall Furniture: or but a company of Players, riding through a Market, [Page 48] A Drum, a Trumpet, or the least call would serue the turne, to draw vs out to the sight: But these be­ing serious, yea to nature somwhat hideous and odious Voyces, like vnto Thunders, are giuen to the beasts to call beholders. The Cry­er in the Wildernesse is willed to cry this Theme aloud in the deafe eares of men. A Boanerges with all the vehemency and contention of his voyce and affections, will bee too little, vnlesse God boare the eares, open the eyes, and per­swade the hearts of men to Come and see. Yet is it but our folly to be so shye of this sight, for though it bee sad, yet is it of all the sights vnder the Sunne the most necessa­ry, the most profitable; Though we turne away our faces and close our eyes, yet see it wee must, and see it wee shall, neuer the lesse, neuer the sooner, neuer the later. [Page 49] Nay, the truth is, see it wee neuer shall, but with closed eyes. Thou tender faint-hearted man or wo­man that art so loath to meete with a Corps or Beere, to see a skull, or any thing that minds thee of Death, shalt thou by this meanes protract or escape thy Death? No, let mee tell thee praeuision is the best preuention, and praemonition the best praemu­nition. That which is common­ly receiued of the Basiliske, is here no conceited Story, but a serious truth. He that sees it before he be seene of it, may auoyd the deadly poyson of it. Hee that sees it be­fore it comes, shall not see it when it comes. Hee that mannageth an horse at an armed stake, fits him to rush into the maine Battell with­out feare. And wouldest thou with Ioseph of Arimathaea, walke euery day a turne or two with [Page 50] Death in thy Garden, and well foreacquaint thy selfe therewith­all, thou shouldest haue, if not E­nochs, yet euery true beleeuers Pri­uiledge, not to see Death, not to taste of Death, viz. in that ougly forme, distastfull manner, which other the sonnes of Adam do, who because they will not see the face of it, must feele the sting of it. To dye well and cheerfully, is too bu­sie a worke to be well done ex tem­pore. The Foundation of Death must bee layde in life. Hee that meanes, and desires to dye well, must dye daily. Hee that would ende his dayes well, must spend them well, the one will helpe the other. The thoughts of thy end as the trayne of the Foule and Rudder of a Shipp will guide thy life, and a good Life will leade thee to a peaceable end, that thou shalt neither shame or feare to [Page 51] dye. In a word, Platoes Phyloso­phy in this, is true Diuinitie: that the best meane, and whole summe of a wise mans life, is the Com­mentation of Death, not euery fleet and flitting flash, but frequent and fixed contemplations. Death is the knownest and vnknownest thing in the world: that of which men haue the most thoughts and fewest Meditations. Be there­fore perswaded to Come and see: that is, come that thou mayest see. Come from other obiects, infinite and vaine spectacles, with which the eye is neuer glutted. Drawe neere and close to this that thou mayest see it throughly. Wipe off the Clay, Spittle, and Scales of thine eyes, that thou mayest cleer­ly behold the nature, quality, and consequents of Death. No mor­tall wight but hath some blushes of mortality, such as go and come, [Page 52] but if they would suffer them to lodge in their mindes, they must needes stirre some affection, and leaue some impression in the me­mory, and produce some effects in their liues. Socrates had a gift that hee could fasten his eyes ma­ny howers on one obiect without change or wearinesse: Halfe so stayed a thought of ones mortali­tie, might bring a man to immor­talitie. It is not beautie seene, but looked on that wounds. I meet with a Story of one that gaue a young Prodigall a Ring with a Deaths head, with this condition, that he should one houre daily for seauen dayes together looke and thinke vpon it: which bred a strange alteration in his life, like that of Thesposius in Plutarke, or that more remarkable, of Waldus the rich Merchant in Lyons, who seeing one drop downe dead in [Page 53] the streets before him, went home, repented, changed his life, studied the Scripture, and became a wor­thy Preacher, Father, and Foun­der of the Christians called Wal­denses, or poore men of Lyons. In Conference and Confessions ma­ny one hath acknowledged to my selfe the like: some that by dange­rous sicknesse of their own, others that by feare of infection in times of the Plague, and generall Visita­tion, others by the death of friends, as by shafts that haue fal­len neere them, haue beene awake­ned, affrighted, and occasioned to thinke deeply on their ends, to pro­uide against their ends, to attend the Word, which hath proued the meane of their conuersion and sal­uation. And this I thinke should bee enough to perswade young and olde, one and other to Come and see.

[Page 54]But what now are we come out to see?

Behold, First the Seale opened.

Secondly, the Horse issuing out.

Thirdly, the Colour of the Horse.

Fourthly, the Rider and his Fol­lowers. Death and Hell.

This horse is vnder seale. Seales wee vse commonly to confirme and conceale, to make things sure and to keepe things secret. And thus death as all Gods iudgements are said to bee sealed. Iob. 35. and that with a firmer seale then of the Medes and Persians: In which sence this Horse Zach. 4. issueth from betweene two brasen mountaines, that is Gods ineuitable, vnalter­able Decree: hee rusheth not out, rangeth not abroad at the will of man or Satan, at hap or by blinde Destiny, but at the pleasure and by the appoyntment of the great [Page 55] Master of these Gods horses, Iesus Christ, one of whose chiefe royal­ties is to keepe the locke and key of Death and Hell, Reuel. 1. else would he be euer trampling vnder feete the sonnes of men. Looke how naturally, and continually the Sea would ouerwhelme the whole Earth, if the waues were not bounded by prouidence: So would this horse ouercome the In­habitants of it, were hee not tyed short, and restrained by his, and our Lord. You see him heere li­mited to the fourth part of the Earth, else had not one been left aliue: For all are sentenced, and haue deserued to dye, and it's fa­uour that all dye not. In a word, men dye not by chance, course of Nature, influence of Starres, but then, and therefore because it is ap­pointed. A million of Aethiopians perish in one day, in one battell, [Page 56] 2. Corinth. 14. not because all were borne vnder one aspect of Planets, but because such a slaughter was sealed of God. And though there be one way in, and twenty out of the world, yet all falls out as God determines and disposeth. That Christian which beleeues this, though hee may desire Dauids A­rithmeticke to number his dayes aright, that is, to know the bre­uity of them: yet will hee neuer study the blacke and senselesse Art of calculating his birth and death. None but fooles are curious and inquisitiue to know that, which is vnder Gods priuy Signet. We are all as Souldiers sent to Sea with Commission vnder seale, not to be opened till wee come to such and such a point. To guesse and con­clude, we shall dye at such an age, in such a Climaterical yeere, what is it but to make a league with [Page 57] Death, not vnlike to that frenzie Merchant that would make and strike vp matches of hundreds and thousands with parties absent as if they were present. A fond itching humour, and such as would for the most part (what euer wee thinke) doe vs hurt rather then good, if the day and houre were far off, it would breede securitie: if neere hand horror. Sicknesses are suffici­ent summons and warnings. Marke such as sentenced by Iudges and Physitians fore-know their death, yet without speciall grace fore-fit themselues neuer the more care­fully. Some deaths indeede (as some Clockes giue warning be­fore they strike) which symp­tomes and signes infallible: and so extraordinarily God giues to some Moses and Hezekiahs a presage, and hearts to prepare: but generall God hath seene [Page 58] this the best for vs, that it should be for the generall most certaine, for the perticular most vncertaine, to him sealed, to vs concealed: of which hee would haue vs make these vses.

First, for our bodily health not to bee too carefull, nor too care­lesse: with all our Physicall dyet and miserable anxietie, wee can­not adde one cubite to the length of our dayes, or measure of our health. Wee are all sealed vp no otherwise then the measure of our wealth, of our crosses and blessings, for the hauing or auoy­ding of which: the meanes wee must vse without carking care, or cowardly feare, cheerefully rely­ing on Christ, the Lord Keeper of the Seale, not wittingly and despe­rately preuenting that sealed date by surfeits of toyle or pleasure, by wilfull neglect of dyet, con­tempt [Page 59] of Physicke, by griefe or by melancholy: nay, not by haste to glory with Cleombrotus the Hea­then, or with hastie selfe-mur­thering Christians, such as Augu­stines times were full off: but with Iob patiently all the dayes of our life, during the terme of our sealed lease, till the very day and date ex­pire, and appointed time of dismis­sion, and dissolution come.

And secondly for our soules pro­uision, not to do as most that haue set dayes of truce and peace, and in which they hang vp their Ar­mour a rusting, and their Beakons vnwatched: but as people that liue in perpetuall hazard of war, haue all things in a daily readinesse for seruice at halfe an howres war­ning, vpon the least Alarum: Who would liue one howre in in­fidelitie or irrepentance, least in that hee bee taken napping as the [Page 60] foolish Virgins, and that rich foole that reckoned of many yeares, and had not one night to continue. Grant it were enough to repent and belieue the last day of life, yet how can a man be sure to doe that, vnlesse he doe it euery day: consi­dering that euery day may for ought he knowes, be the last. The seale may be opened in a day and houre one least thinkes of it, as it is to most that dye.

Lastly, when euer this Horse comes to fetch away vs, or any of ours children or friends: A be­leeuer stamps not, and rages not, as mad Marshall Birom: murmures not, repincs not as the wild Irish men without hope: expostulates not with Destenie, as Alexander for his Hephestion: but with Aa­ron, layes his hand on his heart and mouth for his sonnes suddaine Death, knowing what God hath [Page 61] sealed, shall be and must bee. If the Dreames of a blind fatall necessity could quiet Heathens, how much more should a Christian be chear­full at the disposall of a wise and louing keeper of the Seale. A mi­nute sooner or later it shall not be, then hee hath fore-seene and fore­sealed for thy especiall good, who hath times, and seasons, and seales in his ordination. Worthy was the speech and resolution of an vn­derstanding Diuine. If Christ hath the key and seale of Death, then a figge for Death. This though it be an ordinary notion, yet well di­gested, it is a singular stay to a be­leeuer.

The Seale being thus opened, Come and see the Creature that is­sues forth. Behold an Horse, a fierce a strong, a warlike, a speedy Crea­ture so described by God himself, Iob 39.

[Page 62]Looke therefore how easily Ie­hu stamped Iezabell into peeces: and Tamberlaine his Troupes of Horse the Turkish Foot-men, or as the sturdie Steede dashes out the little Whappets braines, so easily doth Death with the least kicke and spurne of his Heele the haylest Complexion, the stoutest Constitution, tryumph­ing like an Emperour ouer all sorts of people, treading in the neckes of Kings and Princes, as Iosua ouer them in Cane in­sulting in the tearmes of Rabsha­keh, Where is Hamath? the 2. Kings 19. 15. Ezek. 32. Kings of Arphad, Iuah, and Se­pharuaim? Elam, Meshech, and Tubal, whose feare was vpon the liuing, are they not descen­ded into the graue? made their bedds in the slimy valley, and layd their Swordes vnder their heads? Where is Goliah with his brazen [Page 63] Bootes? Hath wisedome deliue­red, Strength rescued, or wealth ransomed any out of my fingers? For all their Confidence, haue they not gone to the King of Feare? How can it bee otherwise, seeing Death comes as an armed Horseman, vpon naked Footmen: no encountering, no resistance, no running away, no euasion by flight. This winged Pegasus, postes and speeds after men, easily giues them Law, fetches them vp againe, gal­lops and swallowes the ground he goes, sets out after euery man as soone as he comes into the world, and playes with him, as the Cat with the Mouse, as the Grey hound with the Badger, somtimes hee followes faire and a farre off, lingers aloofe and out of sight: anon hee spurres after, and by and by is at the heeles in some sick­nesse, and then it may bee giues [Page 64] vs some breath againe, but in the end ouertakes vs, and is vpon vs with a Ierke, as the snare ouer the Fish, or the Foule. Absolom could not outride him: Pharaohs Cha­riot wheeles fell off in this chase. Ionathan and Saul, swift as the E­gles, strong as the Lyon, yet how were they slaine with the mighty? What then is the course the Chri­stian takes? He neither foolishly thinkes to resist, or escape, nor yet cowardly swounds, or crauenly yeelds: but as a valiant Footman that espies an Horseman pursue him in a Champion, stayes not till he come vpon him, but addresseth himselfe for the encounter: so does a Christian in his best health and prosperity, put on his armour, get him the Helmet of Saluation, the Shield of Faith, and learneth the vse of them betimes, before he be vnapt to it in sicknesse or age [Page 65] As the Parthians teach their verie Children to handle the Bow, the Scythians the Dart, the Germans the Speare: and so it comes to passe, that belieuers are not surpri­zed, as worldlings often are, with milke but in their breasts, without Oyle in their Lamps, & all in vaine then fondly cry out to this Horse­man to stay his stroake. As the rich Foole Gregorie relates of, who en­treated Death to stay till the next morning, Truce but til to morrow, and I will bee ready for thee. A Christian wisely considereth, that hee hath no morrow, and there­fore while it is called to day, is ready for this Horse, who neuer sets any certaine day of his com­ming.

Behold also the colour of this Horse [...], the color of the wi­thering leafe, pale and wan: Sym­bolizing and noting the effect hee [Page 66] hath first vpon the liuing, whom hee appalles, as hee did Baltashar, whome all his Concubines and Courtiers could not cheere, nor all his wine in the bowles of the Tem­ple fetch colour into his counte­naunce. See wee not often Priso­ners at the Barre wanne away, and dye as white as a cloth at the Sentence of death pronounced on them. Many gulls and gallants we may heare sometimes flight off Death with a iest, when they think it out of hearing, and some wish it and call for it, as Gaal for Abime­lech, but when it comes in good earnest, they are not able to looke it in the face, with the bloud in their cheeks. Some foolishly set a face on the matter, on their death­beds, lest neighbours should cen­sure when they are gone for Co­wards: hypocritically paynting their faces as Iezabel did, affronting [Page 67] Iehu out of the windowe, God knowes with a cold heart, & if her paint had bin off, a pale face should one haue seen vnderneth it. Wher­as Christians hauing a good mea­sure of faith to warme them at the hart, change not their countenance nor haue their colour any whit a­bated, but as is recorded of Mistris Ioyce Lewis at the stake, and sundry other Christians, euen of the fear­fullest by nature and sex, looked as fresh and cheerely at the houre of death, as at their mariage.

A second effect of this pale horse is after death, bereauing the bodies of all bloud and colour, making them liuelesse & wan carkases, and so layes them a rotting and moul­dring among the wormes their si­sters, till the fashion of them be vt­terly altred, the beauty consumed, and shape turned into rottennesse. Oh how grieuous is this to such [Page 68] Absaloms, Iezabels, and Rosamonds, haue set much by their painted sheathes and pampered Carkases, whose belly is their God, and yet their end must be corruption. Dust they were, and to dust they must returne. Fauour is deceitfull, and beautie is vanity, when the pale Horse comes, there is no remedy. Here only Faith hath an Antidote comforting her selfe with these sayings: This base and vile bodie of mine must bee thus serued, that it may bee transfigured and made conformable to the glorious Stan­dart Christs body, more glorious then the Sunne in his brightest hew. It must thus bee sowne in pale ignomy, that it may rise in glorious beautie. VVhat if I lose a little Vermillion red mix­ture of Fleame and Sanguine, shall I not recouer a radiant resplendant lustre? Can the Alchimist with [Page 69] his Art, cause a dry withered floure to shew it selfe againe for a space, in it naturall verdant shape and colour: and cannot God that made mee first of Clay, and that Clay of nothing, reduce and refine the same after it hath beene in the Earth? as the Chynois doe the ma­terialls of their curious dishes for many scores of yeares, that when it is throughly deficate, their po­steritie may temper and frame some vessell of excellent seruice withall. Certainly my Redeemer liueth, and with these eyes I shall see him, as hee is most admirable to behold, and my selfe like vnto him in my degree. Ten thousand times more comely, then is heere possibly for to imagine, the most personable Creature that euer the Sunne saw: when the body shall bee enriched with those excellent Dowries of Impassibilitie, Cla­ritie, [Page 70] Subtiltie, Agilitie.

Oh, but heeres yet a more feare­full Spectacle behind, then all that hath yet come in sight. Hell, euen Hell it selfe in the worst sense, not the graue of the body, but of the soule. For Iohn sees here principal­ly the Iudgement of the wicked, that were slaine for the contempt of the Gospell, by the pale Horse, for not yeelding to the White and his crowned Rider. And their wo­full state is heere opposed to the happy condition of the Martyrs vnder the Altar.

Well then, behold also, euen Hell the Page and follower of Death, attending him where e­uer hee goes among the wicked sort. Whence it is that they are so often coupled in this Booke, Death and Hell. Looke as the Foxes wayt vpon Lyons, Carrion Crowes vpon armies, Gaolers or [Page 71] Serieants for a prey: so diligently does the deuill on death for a boo­ty. No fowler does more cunning­ly stalk behind the Horse, or creep behinde brakes and hedges, to get his ayme at the shye Fowles. No Serieant hides his Mase, no Angler his hooke more warily: knowing that else Hel should neuer swallow so many.

Alacke, alacke, we silly Fish see one another caught, and ierk't out of the Pond, but see not the fire and Frying panne into which they come. In this consists the Deuils chiefest policie, and our grossest simplicity, and euen this is the cause of our sottish and foolish liuing and dying.

Oh that my head were a Foun­taine of teares, to weepe for, and bewayle the stupiditie, yea the desperate madnesse of infinite sorts of people that rush vpon [Page 72] Death, and chop into Hell blind­ling. How bruitish and beastly are the preaemises and conclusion of the Epicure and his brood, Let vs eate and drinke▪ for to morrow we shall dye? Who knowes whe­ther the soule of the beast descend, and mans ascend, who euer saw the one goe downeward and the other vpward, and then what mat­ter if the life of the one differ not from the other? What need a man care whether hee bee a Sadduces Swine, an Epicures Horse, or himselfe? The one ma­ny times hath lesse care, and more pleasure then the other, if Death be the last line, the full point, and finall cessation of the Creature. These [...]ruits thanke Phylosophie that [...] taught them not to feare any such Hobgoblins spirits, or old Wines tales, as Hell. But such Phylosophie Socrates, Plato, [Page 73] and the wiser sort euen of the Hea­then haue hissed out of Schooles as belluine. Yea, the most sauage and vnlittered peoplè, the lesse soi­led with Art, the more confidently doe they out of Natures instinct, and diuine impression, conclude of an eternall place of well and ill be­ing after death for the soules of men. But these Monsters wilfully shut their eyes, deface and oblite­rate these stamps, and principles of nature, and so dance hood-winke into perdition. Miserable it is to see how boldly and blindly they thinke and venture on Death: The­ramenes, he writes Bookes in praise of Death, as the end of all calami­ties. Augustus, hee dyes in a iest, calling for a Plaudite. Tiberius [...]n dissimulation. Diogines hearing Antisthenes cry out in his paines, Who shall ease mee? offers him a [...]nife to dispatch himselfe withal. [Page 74] Caninus called to execution, bids his Fellow remember hee had the best of the Game. The Earle of Kildare seeing his Writ of Death brought in when hee was at sho­uelboard, throwes his cast, with this in his mouth: Whatsoeuer that is, this is for a huddle. Little list would these blind bayards haue for such idle mirth, if their eyes were opened to see this fol­lower of Death. How pittifull is the frenzie of those braue Spi­rits, as they deeme and terme themselues (as much as they scorne pittie) our Duellists I meane, who as if they neuer had heard of Hell, are as Prodigall of their liues, as Cockes or Dogs are of theirs, powring them out vpon euerie drunken quarrell. I pittie not the losse or misse of such, good for little but to se [...] in the front of a Battell, or t [...] [Page 75] stop breaches and Canons withal: but I pitty the losse of their soules, who serue themselues, as the Ie­suite in Lancashire, followed by one that found his Gloue, with a desire to restore it to him: but pur­sued inwardly with a guilty con­science, leapes ouer an Hedge, plunges into a Marlepit behind it, vnseene and vnthought of, where­in he was drowned. I maruell not, that they feare not a Rapier, or Pistoll, Who would not chuse it before a lingring and paineful sick­nesse? Were it not for the after­claps of Death? No Coward need feare the encounter of it alone in a single combat. But Death hath a Second, a Page tenne times more dreadful then himself, with whom we haue to begin, when we haue done with Death, which is but the beginning of sorrowes. Death is pale, but his follower is a blacke [Page 76] Fellow, a terrible monster neuer e­nough feared. In which respect, how lamentable also is the blind­nesse of all selfe-murderers, who make Death the remedie of euery griefe, and cure of euery violent passion: If they finde themselues inwardly vexed, or perplexed in Conscience, they seeke Death as a present ease; not considering how they leape out of the smoake into the flame, out of the flame in­to the fire, out of a curable mo­mentany disturbance, into an end­lesse inrecouerable woe, (without the extraordinary mercy of God) to which vsually the Deuill speeds them, that hee might get them in­to his clutches, and so passe out of doubt, all meanes of preuention and euasion by Faith and Repen­tance.

Oh senseles Achitophell, how did thy wisedome fayle and befoole [Page 77] thee, when thou settest thine house in order, and disposest of thy goods, forgettest thy soule, hang­est thy selfe, which durst thou, or wouldest thou haue done, had but one belieuing thought of an eter­nall fire come into thy head? How blockish is the manner of dying of many a Naball, who strucken with the feare of Death and Hell, become as insensate as stocks and stones, haue no mind nor power to thinke of one thing or other: Cannot abide to heare any men­tion of the danger of that which they feare, whose senses the De­uill bewitches and benumms, lest they should see and auoyde: such was Lewes the eleuenth, who straightlie charged his Seruants, that when they sawe him sicke, they should neuer once dare to name that bitter word Death in his eares. So doe Cowards [Page 78] and Crauens shut their eyes, and chuse rather to feele blowes, then to see and shunne them. Little better is the common course that most people take. Scared some are with a confused, and preposte­rous feare of Death, and flashes of Hell in their Consciences, and yet take no course to get pardon and Faith in CHRIST: but either taking it to bee some melancholly humour, send for merry compa­nions to driue it away: or being giuen vp to hardnesse of heart and impenitencie, wilfully shake off all thoughts of repentance, shut their eyes and eares against all good ad­uise, and desperately put all at ad­uentures, and chop into the iawes of that roaring Lyon. Some of them ridiculously fearing Death, they knowe not why, more for the pangs of it (which often are lesse then of the Tooth-ake) then [Page 79] for the Hell following: like fooles that feare the thunder Cracke, and not the Bolt; the Report of the Peece, and not the Bullet; the Serieants arrest, and not the Gao­lers Imprisonment: Labour to e­scape Death which they cannot, and Hell which they might. O­thers of them scarred with some terrible apparisions, affrighted, as Cardinall Crescentius a little be­fore his death, with a blacke Dog in his Chamber. A Presage and Preludium of Hell approaching: they crie out they are damned, the Deuill, the Deuill, doe they not see him, &c. And so Spira-like, de­sperately and disconsolately de­part in hellish horrour. Other of them a little wiser, and yet little the better for it, admit a colde thought or two, and it may bee a little parley about the matter, but when they haue fetched a sigh or [Page 80] put all vpon a Lord haue mercie on them: trust it shall goe as well with them as with others, euen as God will haue it: and thinke they doe much if they send to a Minister to pray with them or for them: neuer giuing all dili­gence to make their saluation sure, and to escape so great a condemna­tion.

Oh if wee could consider how fearefully such finde themselues deluded, when their soules a­wake, worse then Ionas in the▪ Tempest, euen in a gulfe of fire and brimstone. How would it a­waken and arouse vs to fore-see Death and Hell in their shapes, and to fore-appoint our selues throughlie, not against the first Death which wee cannot, but against the second wee may, if we get our part in the first resurrecti­on.

[Page 81]This Text, mee thinkes speakes to euery sicke man bound on his bedde with the Cords of Death, as Dalilath to Sampson: vp and a­rise, for the Philistims are at hand: Death is at the doore, and behind the doore, the Fiends waight to fetch away thy soule. Bellarmine is of opinion, that one glympse of Hell were enough to make a man not only turne Christian and sober, but Anchorite and Monke, to liue after the strictest rule that can be. I am of beliefe, that Gods spirit cooperating a thorow me­ditation of it, might be a meane to keep one from it. For a man to wish to haue a sight of it, or that one might come thence & make report of the vntolerable and vnutterable paines of it is superfluous, supersti­tious: & if it should be granted, yet being not Gods ordinance and al­lowance, it might goe without his [Page 82] blessing, and doe one no good. Thy best course is well to ponder what wee that are Gods Ministers report of it, out of Moses, the Pro­phets, Christ, and the Apostles de­scriptions. And if God meane thee any good, our warning may doe thee some good. Popish wri­ters are too bold in making Maps of Heauen and Hell, as if they had surueyed them and their regions, and inhabitants: but most I thinke are one the other hand to breefe and summarie in their meditations and writings. To paint it in it owne natiue colours is impossible, or by any contemplation to com­prehend the horror of it. Shad­dowes and parables the Scripture vseth, by which thou mayest and oughtest to helpe thy coniectures, and to worke on thy affections withall, after this or the like man­ner.

[Page 83]Heere God hath allowed thee on his earth a pleasant habitation, commodiously situate in a good Ayre, richly decked with furni­ture, compassed with delightfull Gardens, Orchards and Fieldes, where thou hast liberty to walke and ride at thy pleasure: How would it trouble thee to thinke of being layd vp all thy life in some streight and loathsome prison, by this consideration how ill thou wilt brooke to be cast into a dole­full disconsolate Dungeon, to lye in vtter darkenesse, blacknesse of darkenesse in eternall chaines, in little ease for euer.

Heere a great part of thy con­tentment, is to liue among good Neighbours, with a louing wife, with cheerefull companions: and loath thou art at any time to bee long in the house of mourning, to bee among melancholy malecon­tented, [Page 84] complayning feeble or brawling people in Hospitals, or Bridwels, or Bedlams. How will then thine eares indure to be tyred with continuall howling, scritch­ing and gnashing of teeth, to liue among Dogges, Enchanters, vn­cleane Birds, reprobate Spirits, worse then so many Toades, Ty­gers, or Serpents.

Here if thy Father should in dis­pleasure bid get thee out of sight, or thy Prince banish thee his court and presence, as Dauid did Absolon, for some offence, thou wouldest take it heauily: how shall thine eares tingle to heare God say, de­part out of my presence, Goe thou cursed into the lake prepared for the Diuell and his Angels.

Here thou shrinkest to thinke of the gout, collick, stone, or strangu­rian, shiuerest to heare of the strap­pado, the racke, or the Lawne, how [Page 85] then wilt thou beare vniuersal tor­tures in all the parts of thy body, exquisite anguish and paines, such as of which the pangs of child­birth, burnings of materiall fire and brim stone, gnawings of chest­wormes; drinkes of Gall and Wormwood are but shaddowes; and to which they are all but sports and fleabitings, euen to the torments thy body shall suffer for it sinnes against the Creator.

But hast thou euer here in this world tasted of a troubled spirit, of the griefe and feares of a woun­ded Conscience possessed with bitter things: strucken and pier­ced with the venom of Gods ar­rowes, feares of the Almighty: by these thou mayst make the best gesse how it wil fare with thy soule when God shall powre al the vials of his wrath into a vessell of his fury, and vexe the soule in his sore [Page 86] displeasure, scourge thee with the rods of scorpions, make thee drunk with the gall of Aspes and Cocka­trices, make thy mind heauy vnto the death, holding it euer in those Agonies, which made his owne Sonne sweate cloddes of water and blood. Oh how fearefull a thing is it to fall into the handes of God, who is a consuming fire. Thinke of it whiles there is hope, you that forget God, Heauen, and Hell, least you come there where there is no redemption, no hope of ease or end, which is that that makes Hell, Hell indeed: For if all these paines might haue an end, were it after million and millions of yeares, as many as there bee sands in the Sea shore, yet migh­test thou nourish some miserable comfort of a release in the long runne: But this night hath no day, this Ague no intermission, [Page 87] his death no death to end it withal.

Here thou wouldest be loath to lye on the Racke from morning to night, to be wroung with the Col­lick for a few dayes or hours, to be haunted with a Quartan from Mi­chael to Easter: Oh then adde eter­nity to insupportable torments, and let thine eares tingle, and thine hart melt to think of it. Were it not for hope in small pressures, wee say heart would burst: Oh then this word euer and euer, if thou couldest duly belieue and consider it, how would it breake that hard heart of thine, which knowes not how to repent, nor cares to preuent the wrath to come.

What thinkest thou, are these things tales and fables, is Hell but a name and word, a scarbug for to keepe fooles in awe? Hath not God, thinkest thou, a day of recko­ning, a prison and power to punish [Page 88] Rebels and Traitors, or are not his punishments like to his Iustice, in­finite and eternall? Know these things to be as true as God is truth, saue that they are short of the truth it selfe. Why dost thou not then take thy soule apart, and ruminate of these things by thy selfe, iudging thy selfe here, that thou mayst not bee condemned in the world to come. Art thou afraid of a me­lancholy fit, and fearest thou not this gulfe, and whirlpoole, and sorrow? Art thou not loath to bee tormented before thy time, and fearest not to bee tormented time without end. I wonder how the soules of wicked men and vnbelie­uers goe not out of their bodies, as the Diuels out of demoniaks, ren­ding, raging, tearing and foaming. I wonder how any can dye in their wits, that die not in the faith of our Lord Christ. Verily if these things [Page 89] moue thee not, thou art in a worse plight then Foelix and Baltashar; yea, the verie Diuels themselues, who belieue them; yea, quake and tremble to thinke of them. How faine would I snatch thy soule out of this fire? Vndoubtedlie know, that if this warning doe thee no good, it is because thou art of old, iustlie ordained to perish in thy impenetency, and to bee a fire-brand in these euerlasting flames. Now on the contrarie, if thou beest a vessell of mercie and honour, it will doe thee no hurt, but driue thee to Christ, in whom there is no condemna­tion: who onelie is perfectlie able to saue and deliuer thee out of this Lake. If thou be est al­readie in him, it will cause thee to reioyce in thy Lord and Sauiour, who hath deliuered thee from the feare of two such enemies that [Page 90] now thou mayst with the Ostrich in Iob despise the horse and his ri­der, and triumph by Faith ouer Hell and Death: O Death where is thy sting! Oh Hell where is thy victo­rie! Death is to men as he comes attended: To Diues he comes fol­lowed with Diuells, to carrie his soule to Hell: To Lazarus with troopes of Angels to conuey him to Abrahams bosome. So that we may in earnest say, that Death is the Atheists feare, and the Christi­ans desire. Diogines could iesting­ly call it, The Rich mans enemie, and the Poore mans friend. This, this is that which makes death so easie, so familiar and dreadlesse to a belieuer; he sees Death indeede, but Death is not Death without Hell follow him: and Hell he sees not, but onely as escaped and van­quished, and therefore is said not to see Death. Now (sayes the be­lieuer) [Page 91] comes death and the Prince of this world with him, but he hath no part in mee: all the bitternesse and teares of death lye in the feare of Hell, which, thanks be to Christ hath nothing to do with me, nor I with it, and therefore I taste not of death: now comes Gods Sergeant pale death, whom I know I cannot auoyde: but this I know, he comes not to arrest me to carry me to pri­son, but only to inuite me to a feast, attend and conuey me thither. Let such feare him as are in debt and danger, mine are all discharged and cancelled: he comes with his horse to take vp me behind him, and to fetch me to my fathers ioyes, to a Paradice as full of pleasures, as he carries the wicked to a prison full of paines. Pharaohs Baker and Butler were sent for out of prison, the one to promotion, the other to execution: hee that had the ill [Page 92] Dreame, expected the Messenger with horror, the other longed for him with comfort. The latter is my case, therefore though I be rea­sonably wel in this world, as a child at board, yet home is home, there­fore will I waite till this pale horse comes, and bid him heartily wel­come: and with him the Angels of my Father, who haue a charge to lay my body in a bed of rest, and to bestow my soule vnder the Al­tar, as it followes in the next seale, which is so pleasing a vision, that we neede no voice or preface, such as we had in the former, inuiting vs to Come and see: the very excel­lency of the obiect it self is of force enough to draw, and hold the eies of our minds vnto it.

The second Sermon.

WHen Death hath bin viewed in the palest, and Hell in the blackest colors that may be, yet if wee haue Faith enough to see Soules in their White roabes vnder the Altar▪ there is comfort enough against the horror of both; e­nough to enable the belieuer to despise and trample ouer them [...]ooth. In the opening of this fifth Seale, I hope to finde more sollid [Page 94] Antidotes, more liuely Cordialls, against the feare of Death, then in all the dead and drie precepts of Bellarmines doting Art of dying. For this part of the vision was shewed Iohn of purpose to sweeten the harshnesse of the former: that his spirit grieued and amazed with the sight of the calamities and mortalitie vnder the persecuting Butchers, rather then Emperours, might yet be relieued and refreshed with a sight of the blessed estate of such as died either in, or for the Lord.

Wherein was proposed to his sight, and to our consideration these seuerals. First, the immortall subsistence of soules after their se­peration from the body. Second­ly, their sure and secure condition vnder the Altar. Thirdly, their dignity and felicitie clothed with white robes. Fourthly, their com­pleate [Page 95] happinesse at the last day, when the number of their brethe­ren shall be accomplished.

Of all these, Christ meant Iohn should take notice, and al beleeuers by his testimony to their full con­solation.

First, Iohn being in the spirit could see spirits, men indeed clad in flesh, can hardly imagine how a soule can haue existence out of the flesh. Eagles can see that which Owles cannot: so is that visible and credible to a spirituall man, which to a naturall is inuisible, in­credible. And yet euen natures dimme eyes haue beene cleere e­nough to see this truth. Nature I say, pure and meere nature, not only the Platonists and other lear­ned ones, who resolutely conclu­ded it, and aptly resembled it, to the distinct being of the waggoner after the breaking of the Coach: [Page 96] the swimming out of the Mariner in the wreake of the ship, the cree­ping of the snayle out of the shell, the worme out of the case: not vn­to the learned Grecians, and ciuili­zed Romans: But euen the rudest Scythians and vnlettered Sauages; yea, though there bee many Lan­guages, and sundrie Dialects in the world, yet is, and hath this euer been the common voyce of them all, That soules die not with the body. And howeuer the bodies re­surrection hath to them been a Problem and Paradoxe, yet is the soules eternitie an inbred instinct sucked from natures breast; or ra­ther an indelible principle stamped in the soules of men by the finger of God. And indeed, to right rea­son, what difficulty or absurdi­tie is there in it. What lets mee to conceiue a being of it in the Ayre, in the Heauen, or in any other [Page 97] place as well as in the compasse of my body, is not one substance as capable of it as another? Can it liue in the one, and not in ano­ther?

Hath it not, euen whiles it is in the bodie, thoughts, motiues, passions by it selfe, of it owne dif­ferent from the body, many crosse and contrarie to the disposition of the body, chearefull ones when that is in paine or melancholie: Cholericke ones when that is flegmaticke. Doth it waite vpon the body for ioy, sorrow, anger, and the like? doth it not more often begin vnto it? Not to speake of Martyres innumerable, who haue beene exceedingly pleasant in the middest of torments, as if they had beene spirits without flesh. How many auncient stories and dailie examples haue wee of chereful minds in distempered, [Page 98] pained, languishing dying bodies? Reason will then conclude, that the Soule may well be, and be sen­sible after death without the body, which euen in the body can bee wel, when that is ill, cheerely when that is hurt, or sicke, grieued and troubled when that is in perfect temper and health. And on the contrary, small reason haue wee to thinke it sleepes out of the bodie, which neuer slumbers in the body, or that it is seazed by death out of the body, which neuer was ouer­come by sleep, which is but deaths Image, and younger brother in the body, but euer was working and discoursing in the deepest and deadest sleepes of the body.

Besides, is it likely God would enrich it with such noble and di­uine dowries to bee salt onely to the bodie, to exhale with it as Bruits doe. The admirable inuen­tion [Page 99] of Arts, Letters, Engines, the strange fore-casts, prospects and presages of the vnderstan­ding part, the infinite lodgings, the firme reteinings of the me­morie, doe they not argue an immortalitie: Doe men ingraue curiously in Snow, Yce, or tran­sient stuffe?

What meanes the great anxie­tie of men about their suruiuing name, if the minde perished with the bodie, if Death were the cessation of the man, and de­struction of the whole substance. What should nature care for an ayery accident without a subiect, whereof no part of him should be sensible.

What meanes the very feare of Death, if that were the end of all feares, and cares, and sorrowes, if nothing remained sensible, and capable of any [Page 100] thing to bee feared.

Lastly, the fresh vigor, the vn­impayred abilitie, that nimble agilitie of the minde in sicknesse; yea, manie times the freer vse of the faculties of it in the confines, yea, in the act and Article of Death, then in former health, doe they not tell the body, the soule meanes not to fall with the car­kase (which hath the name of falling) lyes not a dying with it, but errects it selfe, meanes onely to leaue it as an Inhabitant doth a ruinous House, or as a Musi­tion layes downe a Lute whose strings are broken, a Carpen­ter a worne instrument vnfit any longer for seruice and imploiment: and as a Guest makes haste out of his Inne, to his long home and place of abode.

Loath I am to mingle Phi­losophicall Cordialls with Di­uine, [Page 101] as water with wine, least my Consolations should bee flash and dilute: yet, euen these and such like arguments haue taught all Phylosophie (the brutish schoole of the Epicure excep­ted) to see and acknowledge that the soule is not a vapour, but a spirit, not an accident, but a substance, and elder and more excellent sister to the body im­mixt and seperable; a guest that dyes not with it, but diuerts out of it, intending to reuisite and reunite it againe vnto it▪ selfe. But Diuinitie certainely knowes all this to bee most certaine that it is a particle of diuine breath, inbreathed into the redde lome at the first, not arising out of it, but infused from heauen into it, and therefore may as wel exist without the clay after it, as it did before it: and when the dust returnes to [Page 102] the dust, heauen goes to heauen, both to their originals, the soule first, because first and principall in euery action, the body after as an accessary and second, and so the day of death to the body, is the birth day of eternity to the soule.

This vndying, and euer-liuing condition of the soule, throughly rowled in the minde, firmely em­braced, and vndoubtedly appre­hended by Faith, workes admira­ble effects as in life, so in the ap­proach of death. Seneca that saw it but through Clouds, cranies and creuises with yfs, and ands, yet professeth that when hee thought but a little of it, and some pleasant dreames of it, he loathed himselfe and all his trifling gratnes. But most diuinely, and resoluedly▪ Iu­lius Palmer: He that hath his soule linked and tyed to the body, as a thiefes feete to a Clogge with [Page 103] guyues and fetters, no maruell hee knowes not how to dye, is loath to endure a Diuision: but he that vseth, and can by Faith separate the spirit from the body, to him it is to drinke this: and with that drinkes off a Cup of Wine in his hand, and within a while after, as cheerefully drinks of Deaths cup in the sight of the same Witnesses. Euen Socrates himselfe sweetened his Cup of poyson, with this dis­course of the soules immortalitie, to the amazement of the behol­ders. Such Soules indeede as place all their felicitie to bee in a full fedde, and well complexio­ned body, and to partake of the senses corporeall delights, hath not accustomed it selfe to it owne retyred delights of obstracted me­ditations, knowes not how to bee merry without a play-fellow, no maruell though it bee as loath [Page 104] to part with the body, as a croo­ked deformed body to part with rich robes and gorgeous apparell, which were it onely ornaments. But such noble and regenerate spi­rits as know their owne Dowries, haue inured themselues to subli­mate contemplations, and to haue their conuersation in Heauen, whiles they were in the body: such I say, though they do not Cynical­ly reuile the body as a Clog, a pri­son, a lumpe of myre, &c. but know it to bee the Temple of the Holy Ghost, yet are they willing, yea and sigh to be vncloathed, to sowe it a while in the earth, being a dark and thick lanterne, hindering the cleare sight of it, till they may reassume it clarified, a spirituall, an Angelified body made apt and obsequious to all diuine seruices, to Celestiall Offices without wea­rinesse, intermission, and such like [Page 105] vanitie, which here it is subiect vn­to: as willing as Dauid to lay a­side Sauls cumbersome Armour, and to betake him to such as hee could better weeld and command at pleasure.

This is the first and lowest helpe Faith hath to comfort the soule withall in the approach of Death; when the strong men buckle, the Keepers of the house faile, they waxe dimme that looke out at the windowes, when the whole outward man decayes: that the inner man ages not, faints not, languisheth not, but rather lifts vp the head, is more fresh then for­merly, and excepts to bee vnbur­dened, and to bee at libertie, freed from Corporeall tedious vn­pleasing workes of sleeping, ea­ting, drinking, and other meaner drudgery, that it may once come to higher and more spirituall im­ployments [Page 106] better suiting with it natiue condition: euen as the Ly­on longeth to bee out of the grate, and the Eagle out of the cage, that they may haue their free scope and fuller libertie.