PENSEZ-Y BIEN OR THINKE WELL ON IT Containing THE SHORT, FACILE AND ASSVRED MEANES TO SALVATION.

DEDICATED, Anto those who desire to enioy the happy Eternity.

And translated into English by FRANCIS CHAMBERLEYNE Esq;

AT GANTE, Printed by BAVLDWINE MANILIVE at the vvhite Pigeon, 1665.

THO HIS MOST HONORED AND VIRTVEVS KINS WOMAN THE REVEREND LADY MARIE KNATCHBUL Abbesse of the Noble En­glise Religious of the holy Order of S. BENEDICT in GANT.

MADAM

THis Little one contai­ning so profitable and wise instructions for mankind to arrive at the Cō ­ble of perfection, and so facile meanes to atttaine eternall feli­city, that J deeme not lost time [Page]the two months spent in trans­lating it, to the end that all English might participate of the Authours and my intenti­on, which is most charitably, and with ardent affection, to procure for all, the happynes of ever lasting Blisse, which in­fallibly may begained by the easie practice of that which is comprehended in these feu lea­ves. But I dare not presume to publish this without your la­dyships benigne affording me the favour of permiting this to be sheltred vnder the charita­ble Protection of your lady­ships Patronizing it; which J [Page]humbly be seech you to grant me; for then J shall be confi­dent that my labour, though ill performed, in translating itt will be so acceptable vnto many, that they will reade it, and by doeing so, I hope they will reape the benefitt my heart desires them all, specially those Angelicall and religious spow­ses of Iesus Christ, who are so happy as to have your ladyship their Superior, and the whole world their Admirors, for their exemplar and pious lives they leade vnder your ladyships sa­ge and sweet Conduct. Par­don Madam my holdenes, and [Page]accept of my endeavors to ser­ve you, and your ladyship will exceedingly agrandize the obligation J have, to glo­rie in being

MADAM
Your ladyships humblest Servant and affectionat kinsman FRANCIS CHAMBERLEYNE.

A SHORT, FACILE AND ASSURED MEANES TO BE SAVED. Jntitled THINKE WELL ON IT A necessary Advertisment.

DEARE Soules ranson­ned with the blood of the Sonn of God IESUS CHRIST, and who are so advantagiously en­dued with reason, so divinly illuminated with the light of Faith, and so povverfully solicited with the inspirations of the Holy Ghost.

Have yee never wel considered?

FRom whence proceedes that Man being created of nothing; and made according vnto the Image and likenes of the Soon of God, and for a certaine time placed in this world: not to heape vp [Page 8]riches, to take his pleasures, and to runn after honors, but only to love, serve, and prayse his Creator in this transitory life, to the end to enjoy in the other an happy eternity. From whence comes it, say I, that after this signall favour, Man so ill thinkes on that which he is to per­forme here below, that it may be justly written on his forehead, the Epitaph which was engraven on the Tombe of a servant of the Duke of Burgundie.

Here lyes VVilliam Party, of this good Duke Secretary, he is departed this world, without knowing what he came to do.

O stupiditie altogethere ineffable, and vnworthy of all indued with never so little iudgment.

Have yee never wel considered?

HOw it can be possible, God having given so many meanes vnto Man to arrive vnto his end, and hath produ­ced creatures, who all cry out sufficient­ly lowd, Learne, Render, Proceed. Learne, by how many benefits God obliges thee. Render him infinit thankes, for [Page 9]what thou receave. Proceed, to love him to serve and to honor him. In this is his great designe, and neverthelesse almost all men imploy themselves on Creatures O Brutality.

Have yee never well considered?

HOvv the only begotten Sonn of Almighty God perceaving that all the innumerable benefits of his eternall Father, which are so many beames pro­ceeding from his amorous and bounte­full essence are not able to enlighten mens Hearts with the flames of his divi­ne love, is become Man, to assemble all these benefits and threasures, within his sacred humanity, and by it making them to distil into the Hearts of men, he may inflame them with a most ardent love of the Divinity; as we see, sunn beames are not of them selves able to fi­re flaxe, but if they passe through a chry­stall, they presently reduce it into ashes but Alas these miserable Hearts are of a farr other disposition then Flaxe, they are colder then marble, more hard then [Page 10]steele; they are not heated with all these amorous inventions, they are not mo­lifyed with all these divine fires. O in­fernall coldenes.

Have yee never wel considered?

HOw the adorable Sonn of God hath hidden the brightnes of his in­finit Majesty vnder the grose vayle of our infirmity, for to accomodate him self vnto the feeblenes of our sēces: How he is become Man, for to make vs love in the vnion of our propre flesh, that which we knew not to affect in the only Divinity; How he makes him self our companion in this pilgrimage, for to reduce vs vnto the true and good way, which we have lost, trasing by all his actions the steps which we ought to tre­ad, for to save our selves: How he hath shed all his blood on the Crosse for to wash our filth, and to afford vs a vermillion which all Paradise admires. Yett not with standing we misprise this pretious bath, loving rather to re­mayne in our ordeurs: wee fly and shun [Page 11]the Company of IESUS, for to follow that of the divell. In a word, we will not love God, do what he can. O ingrati­tude worse then brutall; O malice most diabolicall.

Have yee never well considered?

I say, considered once as yee ought; From whence that a Christian soul, which the Holy Ghost preserves with so much care with in the bosoome of his deare Espouse the holy Catholike Church, nourish it so royally with the divine Sacraments, and so amourously conducts it with holy inspirations, in­structs it so charitably by his Preachers, and so many good and pious bookes, encourages it so powerfully with so many eminent examples of Saincts who have passed the same way: and yett (a most strange thing) this poore soul finds her felf in a lamentable condition, wholy weary, languishing, vndone and often even dead.

O most deplorable misfortune not with a few watery teares, but with great [Page 12]torrents of blood, to see man, the lively image of God the favorite of Heaven, the cheefe workanshipe of grace well furnissed with reason, enlightned with faith, regaled with the Sacraments, for­tefyed with grace, cherished with inspi­rations, to be more feeble and tepide, to raise him self, and march towards his end, to acknowledge his soveraigne Lord to procure his true felicity, then are the dullest beasts and the most insen­sible creatures. This is the great misfortune which God reprehends the soul with all, by the Prophite. The oxe with all his stupidity, (faith he) knowes his master, the Asse more grosse, runs vnto the stable of him who nurisheth him: Isarell only makes no account of me, my people only apprehends not, vnto what end, I have placed them in the world, my only Children knowes not the singulare care I have of them; And in another place, he complains with great indignation. Who is more blind then he who serves me, who is more [Page 13]deafe then he vnto whom I speake by my Embassadeurs, who is lesse rea­sonable then he, vnto whom soly I have given reason.

But, what would yee thinke of a Child, which a potent Monarch should finde lying in the durt, and having ad­optated him for his sonn, should send him for a certayne time in to a remo­te country, to the end that with a little labour and with great assistance, he might heape vp treasures there to be dis­couered, with which he might gayne a florishing kingdome, and make him self in a manner equall and coheire with the legitimat sonn of this Prince; if this vnfortunate Child, in lieu of searching after this treasure should consume the mornings in sleep, and spend the rest of his time in play and debauchery, or to run after Butterflyes, if he should im­ploy all his meanes in buying fescues, pinns and glow wormes, would he not be justly thought to have lost his senses and to be vnwortly of the least favor [Page 14]done him? would he not at his returne deserve, in steed of a faire pallace, an obscure prison, and for a crowne of a King, fetters and manacles of a sla­ve; in lieu of a Princely entrataynment, the chastizement of a griveous crimi­nall? Of farr greater punishments are those worthy, on whom the Prophete Ieremie sheds so many teares, the 4. Chapter of his lamentations. Blinde and insensible are they; they might have byn nurished with exquisite and Royall food, but they loved better to be fil­led with filthey ordures: it was in their choice to become beautifull like Angells by their virtues, but by their vices are made more black then the Devils; and it was most easy for them with a little patience to be kings for all eternity in the happy Paradise, but by their wic­ked demeanour they have purchased the eternall paynes of a most miserable Hell.

Have yee never well considered?

FRem whence proceeds this great misfortune, tell mee ingeniously? Comes it from man for not having sufficient light to guide him? No, this can not be for he hath reason which would sufficiently direct his steps, if he were not blinded with too dark pas­sions: Faith would conduct him direct­ly vnto God, if he were not hendred by vice: Divine inspirations would rayse him vnto high perfection, if ke were not depressed by the charming allur­ments of the world and the flesh.

Proceeds it from the wicked nature of persons, who resemble certayne trees incapable to beare any good fruit, nor to serve for any thing then the fire? No, it is not this; but, that which makes so many Confessariours to sighth, is to see amongst so many rich natures which they incounter, and which see­mes to be made soly for virtue, to see ther are (I say) so few make vse of these great prerogatives of nature, vvhich [Page 16]never the lesse are some of the most as­sured markes of predestination, if they vvould but never solittle cooperate.

Proceeds it from the vvant of sufficiēt instruction, and that the soul being left free vnto its depraved inclinations doth not clearely distinguish good frō evil, virtue from vice? Truly this rea­son is nothing, especially in these ti­mes, in vvhich the least girle, or Boy knovves the deformity of vice, seeing every one takes vp the maske of virtue, and can not be deceaved vnles they grosely flatter them selves.

From vvhence then proceeds this evil? Ansvvere me I beseech yee. But be fore yee ansvvere, I conjure yee by all the favors vvhich yee have receaved from Heaven, by the pretious Blood of Iesus Christ shed for yee, by the share yee pretend to have in Paradise.

Thinke well on it.

ANd after good and profound con­sideration, yee vvill freely con­fesse that this mischiefe and ill fortune [Page 17]arrives from not having had due consi­deration; for if one had but once well thought on it, and seriously pondered, wherfore are we in the world, and what is that we would desire to have done, when we shall be departing this world, it would be almost impossible to offend our good Creator, and we should finde great facility to serve him. Is not this true? Thinker well on it.

IF yee never solittle doubt it, I will wholy convince yee, by two or three examples. What was it, I pray yee, which fred S. Antony from all the ill habits and coustomes of this world, for to rayse him vnto that sublime de­gree of perfection, vnto vvhich he arri­ved? Three vvordes vvell considered have made this great vvonder. He en­tred on a certayne day into the Church, to heare masse, as he ought, and being attentive vnto the Ghosple; he heard how Iesus Christ sayed: If thom wilt be perfect goe, sell all thou hast, and fol­low me: These wordes knocking at [Page 18]his Heart, he opened the gate, he ke­arkneth vnto them, he weighs them, and seriously considers them, goes forth the Church, he hastneth to give a be­ginning vnto the great perfection, he afterwards shewed. How many others have heard the same Ghosple, but all have not so well considered it as he.

What extraordinary power drew S. Augustine out of the vice, in which he was so farr ingaged, for to addict him self vnto virtue. Three words well con­sidered caused this miraculous change: you have read, how his good Mother S. Monica exhorted him to live well, but he seemed deaff she powred forth fluds of teares, but did not mollify him, she passed dangerous seas to follow him, and always solicite him, but she pre­vailed nothing. Ye have heard how S. Ambroise vndertooke him, how they conferred to gether, how he was allwayes at the sermons of this holy and eloquent Prelate, notwithstanding all this, he remained alwayes firme and [Page 19]obstinat in his imperfection. One day he entred into a Garden, and lying vnder a tree, the Epistles of S. Paul by him, he heard a voyce, which sayd vnto him, take, reade, take, read: he rises, openes his booke, and findes these words. It is not in feasts, nor in debaucherey, it is not in the bead, nor ordeurs of the flesh, much lesse in quarels and contests that God is found, but put on Iesus Christ. He reads these words over and over, he meditats on them, he considers them, he engraves them in his heart. He runs vnto his deare Ali­pius, he hastneth vnto his Mother, he wholy bequeathe him self vnto God.

What power broke the strong chai­nes which fast bound a yong Gentle­man in the vanityes and follies of the world? One sole thought well digested in his soul, He was in a city ready to represent some galentry vnto the eyes of a great and brave assembly; wher­fore he retird vnto his lodging beti­mes, to be the ealier vp in the morning: [Page 20]But the ardent desire he had to appeare, permitted him not to sleep or to take any rest, he turned him self an hundred times in his bed, and as often deman­ded, what hovvre it was: at last a­monghst these inquietudes, a thought came into his mind, without doubt from his good Angell it proceeded: Thou art here in a good and easy bed, environed with filken curtaynes, and finds the night so long and tedions, and vnable to take any repose; Oh, what can the soules so many yevres in pur­gatory doe, not mentioning those which burnes in hell for all eternity: This thought well pondered, made him to resolue, to quitt these Fopperyes, to apply him the more seriously vnto the obtayning celestiall and eternall happynes.

What ravishing speech or mouing discourse persuaided a yong and vaine lady to fortefy her courage, and to resolue to do penance for her sinns, which she did detest as she ought. A strong imagination ceased on her Heart. She [Page 21]goes with her Neighbours to confesse as much for company sake, as for de­votion, by good fortune she mett with a discreet Confessarious, who having heard her confession, and sweetly ha­ving advertised her of the injury she did her self in living so vainly and wic­kedly, he gave her for penance to weare a haire cloth for certayne how­res. O Father, sayed she what say you, to vveare a haire cloth? Alas! I can not do it, I have great difficulty to weare a smocke, if it be not very fine: well, answered the confessarius, in lieu of Heircloth, you shall fast three dayes: how fast, replyed she, J who can not rise forth of my bed befo­re I have eaten a good caudell: O Fa­ther, this is impossible for me to perfor­me. Well then, sayed the Confessarius, you shall heare three Masses on your knees without turning your head: it will be very hard for me, not to turne my head, replyed she a gaine, but impossible for me to kneel so long [Page 22]without fainting. I know not what then to do with you replyed the Father, seeing you refuse so easie penances ha­ving commit'ed so many great sinns. Perhaps you can as often as you wash your hands, thinke that those white hands shall become filth and wormes meate: she accepts of this pen̄ance, recea­ves absolution, goes home, washing her hands before she sitts to eate, she thinks on what was enioyned her, for the first and second time she made but smal re­flexion; but on the third time this thought made so deep impression in her Heart, that she resolues to give a fare well vnto all delicacie and vanity for to do pennance proportionable vnto her sinns, and to give herself wholy vnto God, and to become a Saint.

Lett these particulare examples suf­fice, for it is a most assured truth, that ther have ben million of Persons who have heard most eminent Preacheurs, and yett have not ben moved: who ha­ve had religious Confesseurs able to ma­ke [Page 23]Saints, and have not gained any thing: who have read most spirituall bookes, and have nothing profited. And yett two or three words well con­sidered, a speech spoken without di­signe, but well pondered and digested hath made them to know themselves and hath reduced them into an happy condition. I was Confessarius vnto a Lady of quality, who assured me, rhat she for 7. years had wepp for the death of her Husband: in the beginning very often in the day, and afterwards twise every day she never failed to weep: I know not how many Religious of di­vers ordres, and other able and discreet people were imployed, to make her know the injury she did vnto the ho­lines reputation and virtue of her decea­sed Husband, but all to no effect: one day as she was weepeing in her chamber, passing throught a gallery, she meets with one of her Maydes sweeping, who mildly sayed vnto her, I know not Ma­dam vnto what purpose your Lá so long [Page 24]time opposeth the will of God. This speech proceeding from a chambre mayde, glided so deeply in to her soul, and she considered it so well, that she resolued to make an end of these teares, the which so many premeditated dis courses could not effect, because they were not well considered on; one word by chance spoken, and well conside­red gained and eonquered her.

Ther fore being it is most true, that one sole word well meditated on, is ca­pable to convert a person, and to profitt more then long exhortations, even as as one only graine well buried in the earth, will yeeld more increase, then a hundred others cast on the high way or on stones. I am resolued, having a most ardent desire to aide ye. Towards your saluation, not to propose vnto ye above two or three words, at a time: but I conjure you by what is most deare vnto you, after that I have spoken, Thinke well on it.

ANd because the great secreat con­sist in giving you the meanes of well thinking on it. J find not a better then a strong representation; a lively imagination of the hovvre of death. This is the secreat, which those that would live holy, made vse of. For this reason, the Emperor Maximilian had his Coffin caried allwayes with him; S. Iohn Elimosinarius twise or thrise every day visited his sepulcher. The Ancho­ritts have allwayes in their Cels a Deaths head, on which they alwayes loo­ked. Ther are so many good Reli­gious vvho hardly meditate on any thing then on death. Believe me that amongst the infidels, those that have desired to live the better, have made vse of this meanes; I vvill not give you any other example then that of Philip King of Macedony, Father of Alexan­der the great, vvho had one of his Pa­ges vvitth him, for to come and tell him every Morning: Sir remember that you are a Man, and therfore must dye. Go [Page 26]too my deare friend, tell me seriously, and from the heart: if God should send you an angell to assure you that you we­re to dye whithin two or three dayes, in earnest, what would you thinke then? what would you say? hasten not to answere, but before? Thinke well on it.

I read on your countenance what lyes hidd in your Heart: you thinke that you are in health, young and strong, and therfore you can not imagine death to be so necre: O for the love of God, my deare friend J befeech you, confide not on your youth, on your health, and strenght nor any quality you can have: No, no, you must be deceaved by those who have no other designe then to rui­ne you, believe me rather who am your faithful friend, having no other inte­rest then your good. I tell you then, and assure you, desireing you to believe me. More younge, beter in health and stronger then you, more rich and abler then you shall dye this weeke, who not witshstanding believes to live as long as [Page 27]you. And although I am not a Prophet, for to foretell that you shall be of the number, yet I can with as great assuran­ce advertise you, as if I were one, that death to day is neerer vnto you then it was yesterday and that to morrow it will be neerer then it is to day, and it will never rest vnt ill it hath over taken, tript vp your heils and sent you into the other world. Consider therfore seriously on your affaires. Thinke well on it.

THat if finding my prayers too im­portune, you say vnto me, that I begin first to thinke and pōder on what I demaund of you. I am content and will truly declare vnto you what I thin­ke. If I were advertised by a messenger from heaven that my life were to have an end with in this weeke, I protest vnto you, that I would put in exsecu­tion, that which often I learned being young of a very learned and Religious Person, who did me the honor to love me and to have a care of my soul, a­mongst the pious and good discourses [Page 28]with which he entertained me when I visited him, he often sayed vnto me. My Sonn what soever thou wouldst have done at the howre of death doe it now whilst thou art able, and what thou wouldst not have done then, be carefull to not commit it now.

Lett you and I willingly have this profitable counsell before our eyes al­wayes and so engraven in our hearts as it is necessary for vs, for which end, Thinke well on it.

ANd if by good fortune your mind delates it self and desires to know every particular which you would have done and not have done, if you were at the end of your life, I am exceedingly satisfyed, and I prayse God with all my heart, because he hath so sweetly touched you, for it is a great testimony, that you take to heart that which most concernes you, in which if I can assist you, I will imploy all my indeavors, writting what soever sweet Iesus shall please to dictat vnto my soul, which may [Page 29]ayde you to gaine heaven, deeming my self most happy, if I should sweat bloud and water, yea give my life for to render this good service vnto you.

To the end that the profitt be more assured and the greater, I aske you four things, before I begin.

The first is, that every demaund I shall make, you will imagine that it is not I that speake, but it is your good Angell, or the blessed Virgine, or God himself, indoing so you will be the more atten­tive.

The Second is, that as soon any poynt be proposed you beseech the Holy Ghost for to illuminat your vnderstan­ding to know the verity of what is pro­posed vnto you saying with fervor, Come, o Holy Ghost, infuse into my soul a beame of thy divine light, that I may be able to comprehend what is sayed vnto me now.

The third is, that for to conceave that which shall be proposed vnto you, and to answer ther vnto the better you for [Page 30]a while deliberatly considere, ponde­ring each poynt the space of three or four Paters at least.

The fourth is, that you make a firme resolution with the grace of Almighty God to live better, saying an Ave Maria to the end that the Immaculat Virgine assist you.

If you please to grant me these four things, I do assure my self that you in a short time will find great benefitt and be in a very good disposition to appe­are before Almighty God, when it shall please his divine Majesty to call you vnto his presence. Lett vs begin.

THE FIRST PART Of that which one would not have done if he were at the houre of death.

DEare Reader profoundly rea­sonable, and truely Christi­ane I coniure thee to tell me, but rather tell me fron the heart, then the mouth: If God should assure thee at this present, that thou art to die this weeke, wouldst thou not be very sorry to have so miserably spent so many houres, faire dayes, and large yeares, which were afforded thee for to gayne Paradise. For what? to eate, drinke and sleepe, as beasts doe. For what? to trimme thy self, laugh, and play, as fooles doe; For what? to do, say, and thinke that which is vnworthy of a reasonable soul, much more of a Christien. I beseech thee, what wouldst [Page 32]thou say of a Merchant who had im­ployed himself all the time of a faire in walking plaing and making good chee­re, whilst his Companions are become rich by labouring day and night, with what confidence dares he returne ho­me having foolishly spent all he had caried with him, without buying any Marchendize, how vvill he be blamed by his Parents and friends, how con­founded will he be, appearing befor-his neighbours who know his ill hus­bandry? Say with devotion, Come o holy Ghost, enlighten me with a beame of thy light for to vnderstand this proposition: And then, Thinke well on it.

Having done this, consider hovv thou hast behaved thy self hereto fore. Be a shamed, if thou hast ben faulty, resolue to act better here after. Addresse thy self vnto the blessed Virgin beseec­hing her to second thy good resolutions. Ave Maria.

THou who hast so often desired to be advertized of the howre of thy [Page 33]death, if I now assure thee, that within five or six dayes thou shalt die: wilst thou not have great cause to complayne on thy memory, in having taken so much payne a bout things vn profitable, indecent and hurtfull, which have hen­dred the remembrance of God. What esteem wilst thou have of him, who being able easely to fill his cofers with silver, gold, and pearle, had rather put therin durt, shells and filth.

Thinke well on it.

Thou wilst boldly conclud, that he is indiscreet and vn fortunate, who ha­ving an happy memory for creatures doth forgett the Creator, and remem­bring the affaires of the world hath lost the memory of his owne concernes, if thou finds thy self guilty of this misfor­tune, be ashamed, and asking pardon for what is past, resolue to do better hereafter. Ave Maria.

I am certayne that thou hast a tender devotion vnto thy good Angell, and that thou remits thy whole lyfe vnto [Page 34]his conduct. If he should now come and tell thee that he hath but four or fi­ve dayes to governe thee, wouldst thou not condemne thy vnderstanding of stupidity more then brutall, in having ben employed so vn profitably in so many foperies and childish toyes, so vn worthily occupied in so many vanityes, so vnfortunatly busued in transitorie things, which are worth nothing in­comparaison of those which God hath prepared for thee in the kingdome of heaven, promised on his faith and by solemne oath vnto thee. What opini­on wouldst thou have of him vvho being able to apply him self easely vnto good affaires, from vvhence he might gaine much honor and profit, had ra­ther amuse himself vvith lacquies and children about trifels. Thinke well on it.

Thou vvilst freely avoue, that it is the most extravigant folly that a man can commit. Considere if thou be exempt, and resolue be vvayling vvhat is past to doe better from this day forvvard.

I knovv thou believest, that there are many Saincts in the Church, vvho do miracles, and fore tell vvhat is to co­me: if any one of these should vvhisper thee in the eare, that thou hast but tvvo or three dayes to live, wouldst thou not be excedingly confounded for ha­ving imployed thy vvill in fondly lo­ving that vvhich vvisely ought to be ha­ted, and maliciously hating that vvhich ought perfectly to be beloved, art thou not very much ashamed to so effectio­naly adheare vnto creatures, as to con­temne the Creator? vvhat vvoulst tho thinke of him vvho being ablc to chang his heart into pearle. into a luminous starr, yea even into God himself should rather love to convert it into durt, into a hogg or into a divell? Thinke well on it.

And knovving that love Metamor­phizeth thy heart into vvhat it loves, thou vvilt confesse that it is an extreame malice vvhich deserves more then hell, to settle the affection on any thing then God soly, take heed of vvhat thou hast [Page 36]done heretofore, and resolue for the ti­me to come.

HAst thou never beheld the heave­nes enveloped and darkned with obscure clouds, the aire all in fire with lightning, thounders grumling on all parts, an horred medlay of winds and rayne drouning the fields and [...]over tur­ning howses, if this should happen to day, and a voice should bed thee to loo­ke vnto thy self, for this tempest very shortly would fall on thy head, wouldst thou not tremble with feare and griefe, for having so wickedly imployed so ma­ny good talents which God hath given thee for to serve him. wouldst thou then be endued with the eloquence of speech to ruine others, with subtility of witt to deceave them, with the sweetnes of conversation to draw them vnto euil, with force to distroy them, with beauty to hurt them, and with all other talents to damne thy self and them together. Unto what punishment wouldst thou condemne him, who having receaved a [Page 37]great summe of mony, of a great king, for to serve him, and to engage others in his service, should buy halters for to distroy himself and others.

Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt with out doubt conclud, that it is farr better not to have receaved so many talents from heaven, then to imploy them ill, and that servant to be very vnhappy who spent his masters monyes in things contrary vnto his in­tention. See if thou be not such an one, and purpose to amend.

FEaring that I have weared thee with my interogations, I am resolved to acquiesce, for a while, to hearken vnto a musick which in deed is none of the sweetest, for it comes from hell, not­withstanding it will profitt very much, and confirme all that is already sayed; In the booke of wisdom chap 5. the wise Man makes the damned to say. Repenting and sighing for anguish of spirits: These are they whom we had some time in dirision, and in a parable [Page 38]of reproch: we senslesse esteemed their life madnes and their end without ho­nor. Behold how they are counted among the children of God, and their lot is among the Saints, we therfore ha­ve erred from the way of truth, and the light of justice hath not shined to vs, and the sunne of vnderstanding rose not to vs, we are weried in the way of iniqui­tie and perdition, and have walked hard wayes, but the way of the lord we have not knowen: hat hath pride profited vs? what commoditie hath the vaunting of riches brought to vs. Al those things are passed away as a shado­vv, and as a messenger running before and as a shippe that passeth through the surging waters: wher of, when it is past, the trace can not be found, nor the path of that shippes keele in the waves: or as a bird that flyeth through in the Ayre, of which ther is no token can be found of her passage, but only a found of the winges beating the light winde: and by vehemence of going [Page 39]cutting the ayre, moving the winges she is flowen through, and afterward ther is no signe found of her way; or as when an arrow is shott forth to a sett marke, the divided ayre is forth with closed in it self again, so that the pas­sage therof is not knowne: so we also being borne, forthwith ceased to be: and of vertue certes have ben able to shew no signe: but in our. Naughtines we are consumed, such things sayed they in hell, which sinned, because the hope of the impious is as dust, which is taken away with the winde: and as a thinne froth, which is dispersed by the storme: and as smoke that is scatered abrode by the winde: and as the memory of a Ghest of one day that passeth. Hast thou well heard this harmonius musick of hell, tell me seriously, wouldst go the­ther one day to be partaker of it,

Thinke well on it.

In the meane while I will continue my demanding of thee, if for certaine thou must die with in four or five dayes [Page 40]at the farthest wouldst thou not with many teares complaine of they eyes in having given them so much liberty to reade so many vaine and vnchast boo­kes, wouldst thou not be sorry to ha­ve cast so many amoreus and lewd glan­ces on so many dangerous objects which Satan made vse of to precipitate thee into wicked actions, as if he had not been sufficiently powerfull to ruine thee without the aide of thy sight, had it not ben better for thee to have ben borne blinde, or that thine eyes had ben putt out as soon as thou wert bor­ne, then to have made so ill vse of them, Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt conclud with the evange­list, that it is more expedient to have thy eyes pluckt out, that is, to retayne with violence thy sight, for to enter into Paradise, then to behold what soever presents it self, and to descend into hell, invite thy eyes to wash with their teares they passed faults, and ma­ke a couenant with them for the time [Page 41]to come, as Holy Iob did.

TEll me freely, if thou shouldst heare the bell which advertise all, that they are carring the viaticum vnto thee, wouldst thou not exceedingly bla­me thy eares, for having too curiously listened vnto the wicked discourse held against the reputation of an other, for having taken to much pleasure in im­pertinent prayses, and indiscreet jestings and scoffings, for having ben too at­tentive vnto wanton songes, lascivious wordes which insinuate their poison so secreetly into the heart, that hardly one perceaves it before he he dead, as the fish takes not heed that be hath swallo­wed the hooke vntill he is dravvne forth of the vvater. O hovv much bet­ter had it ben for thee to have ben al­wayes deafe then to have by this organ afforded entrance vnto this poison which hath infected thy soul, and per­haps will cause its eternall death.

Thinke well on it.

Thou vvilt resolue to follovv the [Page 42]counsell of the vvise man: to inviron they eares vvith a hedg of thorns, that is to say, vvith a strong consideration of hell fyer, for not to hearken to any thing vvhich can ruine thee.

IMagine that vvith in tvvo hovvres thy soul is to give an account of all she hath ever sayed, if this vvere so, vvouldst thou not torture thy tongue vvith they teeth, for having uttered so-many jeasts, mockeryes and vntruths, so many braggings, oftentations, and vauntings so many fovvle vvordes, det­ractions and blasphemes, so many cur­sings and othes, of all vvhich thou shalt see a most exact catologue, vvilst not passe for a poore merchant, if thou art found for one vvord to have lost vvhat soever good thou hadst, and sold thy soul vnto the divell. Thinke well on it.

Seeke redresse for the vvoundes thy tongue hath made in thy soul, and re­sent them vvith griefe, firmely purpose to keepe it better, being most assured, that of a hundred that this time goes to [Page 43]hell, ninety are precipitated ther by the tongue.

IF thou already didst feele the stinking exhalations of thy dying body, vvouldst thou not sigh from the botto­me of thy heart sor having sought vvith so much sensuality svveet odours, to perfume they garments, to imbaume thy carkas, and to satisfy thy nostrels, and those vvho accompany thee, vvhilst thy soul by its imeperfections yeelds an intollerable loathsome sent vnto all the celstiall court? vvhat extravigance is it to perfume the sleave, and permitt the arme to be putrified? vvhat folly is it to smel of musk amongst lackyes acd to stinck in the presences of a Prince.

Thinke well on it

Be confounded, if the ancient pro­verb be verifyed in thee; very often the heart stinketh, vvhen the body is perfumed, resolue not to verify here af­ter this truth.

WHat vvouldst thou doe, if thou didst knovv for certaine that [Page 44]vvith in three dayes thy body should be vvormes meate? vvoudst thou not cur­se a thousand times thy taste vvhich finds nothing fufficiently seasoned, vvhich seekes vvith so much care svveet and delicious viands and pleasant vvines; vvhich knovves not hovv to fast, nor to abstaine from vvhat is forbiden. Hadst not better eaten some ill dressed meate, then to be inforced to drinke the poy­son of serpents and eate toades.

Thinke well on it.

Thou vvilst confesse, that it is better vvith a little payne to abstaine and to be mortefyed a fevv dayes in the noble company of IESUS and his Saints for to gaine Paradise, then to suffer hun­ger eternally vvith the damned in hell.

IF thou didst lively apprehend vvhat vvill happen at the last period of they life, vvhere thou shalt loose all feeling, vvouldst thou not have an extreame regret and sorrovv to have ben so deli­cate and sensuall in thy touching, that thou hast never ben able to endure, [Page 45]haire cloth, discipline, nor the least incommodity, but hast alvvayes sought after the finest linnen and hast made his sence vvholy brutale. Alas! hovv vvilst thou be able to vveare garments of fire, to lye eternally on the burning coales of hell. Thinke well on it.

Thou vvilt confesse that it had ben better a hundred times to have ben alvvayes leprous then to have procured thes eternall evils. I do aske thee, if this vvere the last hour of thy life, whe­ther thou vouldst not rather be with out a hand, then to have imployed thy hands so often in taking that vvhich did not belong unto thee, implaying, eateing to much, in satisfying vanity, in stirking vvithout reason, in vnjustly increasing thy wealth, in taking things vnlawfull? is it not true that ther vvould not be so many gallowes, if ther were not so ma­ny malifactors? Thinke well on it.

Thou will allovv, that ther had not ben so many damned, if their hands had taken so much payne for to open unto [Page 46]them the Heavens, as they have done for to purchase hell.

THis is the last question I will pro­pose vnto thee at this time. If thou wert fallē to day sick as it is possible, and that thou wert assured that thou shoudst not recovere; wouldst not thou rather have ben lame and with out feet, then to have so often runne after dauncings and tavernes, frequent play howses and infamous places in which thou perhaps hast lost that which is never to be reco­vered, and with that the life of thy soul. Take heede of those hogs which the Evangelist mentions, behold how after the divel was entred into them, they ne­ver left running vntill they were preci­pitated into the sea. Thinke well on it.

Have compassion on those who being once under the slavery, never rest from falling from one sinn into an other untill they be indulfed into eter­nall perdition.

I am not so passionatly amourous of the saluation of thy soul that I forget the health of thy body, and therfore least thy minde being to much imployed in thinking on those things, I propose might cause a distemper in thy head, J am willing that thous spend some time in beholding a spectacle which repre­sents itself here, very fitt to confirme what hath ben sayed. Ther was a young lady who appeared vnto her Ghostly Father in a most terrible manner, a thousand snakes were her haires of her head, she had two cruell Aspes han­ging at her eyes, which did cruelly tor­ture her, two venomous vipers at her nostrels, two poisonning lizards at her eares; she mutilated her tongue with ineffable rage: on her bosome ther ap­peared two vglie Toads which nibbled her breasts: an horrible dragon which constrained her to swallow his Foame, an other four or five times environed her body, thrusting his head into her privities drew forth her entraills: two [Page 48]gastly divels most cruelly did teare the partes of her body which had ben in­struments of the greatēst offences, and incessantly powred melted led and boyling oyle: I am not able to expres­se what strange faces and wry mouthes she made, her eyes sparkling with fire rowled in her head withfury, she cast forth of her eares and nostrels firy sul­phure, she mouthed worse then a fury; a garment of fire covered all her body, but truly nothing was so insupportable as her roarings and cryes: Cursed be the creature, sayd she, who for so smal pleasures hath deserved so great tor­ments; cursed be the heade which for being the seat of all vanities is at present the bayt of all the infernall wormes, cursed eyes which for inconsidered loo­kes are punished with most horrid sights. Cursed eares which for lascivi­ous ayres and songes are constrained to heare hellish musick. Cursed nostrells which for effeminat odors, smels the stinking carkasses of the damned. Cur­sed, [Page 49]and a hundred times cursed bo­dy which for having taken to much ple­sure in superfluous promotions and for­beden sensualitys shalt be alwayes clo­thed with fire and tortured with di­vers torments. Cursed creatures which have contribuited vnto my misery and have ben complyces of my cri­mes. Cursed be Father and Mother who have given me the temporall life which hath conducted unto cternall death, Cursed be aboue all, cursed eter­nity which will not afford an end nor truce of my evils. O eternity, and insaying, cursed eternity, she vanished: behold a a strang vision, I assure thee, that we should see one farre more frightfull, if God would afford us a sight pearceing even unto hell, and therfore: Thinke well it.

I Returne to aske of thee, I say of thee, who art the dearely beloved of my heart; if thou shouldst know that thou wert to depart this world with in tvvo dayes, wouldst thou with so much [Page 50]ambition appeare among men wouldst thou spēd so much mony in magnificent clothes, in splendent jewels, fine perrles, and rich equipage; wouldst thou walk with so much pride, wouldst thou speake with so much arrogance; in a word, wouldst thou harbour so much hautines in thy heart and in all thy deportments, knowest thou not that God could not permits pride to be in heaven in the most eminent creatures which ever he made, how will he indure it in thee.

Thinke well on it.

Boldly resolue to roote out of thy bo­dy even the least haire, and put of thy soul the smalest thought which may nu­rish this vice, least it should procure the wrauth of God on thee, eternal dānation IF thou knewest most certaynly that within four and twenty houres thy Parents and Friends, in recompense of what they enherite of thee, must send thee into the other world sewed in one of the commune sheets of thy cofer, wouldst thou be so covetuous of gaine [Page 51]wouldst thou so greedily runne after Gold? wouldst thou heape up treasures so painefully for Heires who will remē ­ber thee no longer then they are making good cheere of thyn? what will availe thee the stately and sumptuous Howses which thou hast built when thou must lodg in a black Tombe, what will pro­fite thee to have left so much gold and silver in Banke when thy Soul shall bur­ne in purgatory Thinke well on it,

Conclud, that it is no smal follie in being so solicitous to heap up wealth, which soon or late must be lost, and so carelesse of thofc treasures which we may carry with us and enjoy for al e­ternity.

IF thou didst know that death were but two or three dayes from thee, and didst see one of his forerunners with thee, as it is very probable that thou art not without some corporall incom­modity, tell me, in this apprehension wouldst thou abandon thy self in the or­dure and filth of sensualitie, wouldst [Page 52]thou wallow like a hog in the mire; wouldst thou say with those shallou braines in the second chapter of wisedo­me. Come threfore, and lett us enjoy the creature as in youth. Lett us fill our selves with precious wine and oyntmentts, and let not the flowre of the time passe us; let us crowne our selves with Rofes before they wither, lett ther be no medow, which our riott shall not passe through, let none of vs be exempted from our rioteousnes, every wher lett us leave signe of joy, because this is our portion and this our lot, wouldst thou with these people have led a life of an Athest and a beast, or lived like those of Sodome to be swalloved up by the earth. Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt avoyde all occasions of defyling thy body and Soul, imitating the faire Hermine, who for fear of de­fyling her whit skin with the durt per­mits her self to killed.

IF a maligne fever did torment thee in thy bed, having dispatched many with in twise foure and twenty houres. Wouldst thou not be vexed for having [Page 53]harbored so long hatred and envie in thy soul against thy Neighbour, for ha­ving endeavored to distroy him and to blemish his honor, without gaining any thing but a bitter remorse of conscience, and the maledictions of Cain? Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt compassionat the envious; seeing them macerated with the prospe­rity of others, and thou wilt avoyde envy which tortures the heart and con­sumes the body.

IF thou didst imagine that within three dayes that thy body should be redu­ced into dust, wouldst thou have so much deked and cockered it and taken so much care to nurish it, affording it all that it desired without consulting with reason. Wouldst thou be like unto the rich Gluton, who from a plentifull table was draged into the eternall flaming fi­res, wher he could not obtayne a little drop of water to releave his thirst which infinitly tormented him. Thinke well on it.

Conclud that they most miserably [Page 54]vnfortunate vvho for being too indul­gent unto their bodyes, exposeth their bodyes and souls unto the danger of eternall damnation.

IF thou vvert sick in bed, and an ex­pert and shilful Phisician should de­sire thee to put all things in good order for that thou art in great danger of de­ath, vvouldst thou not exceedingly grieve, to have ben so often impatient, to have cursed and injured thy servants domesticks and neighbours, and to ne­ver have suffered any the least thing for God and for thy saluation? vvhich is better either to indure same little thing for God and to gaine Paradise according unto the example of Saints, or to suffer in the next life vvithout any benefitt. Thinke well on it.

Firmely resolue to subdue thy Cho­ler and to suffer all things patiently see­ing that the grievous malice of men in the vvorld is not to be compared vvith the rage and fury of the divels vvhich torment in the other vvorld.

IF now the holy Oyle were brought, wouldst thou not tremble and shiver considering the negligence thou hast u­sed all thy life to save thy soul: wilt thou not be ashamed for having used so much slacknes in kneeling every morning, in making thy intentions, in frequenting the holy Sacraments, in visiting, the sick, in hearing Masse? would not thy heart faynt seeing so few good workes accompaning thee before God? what shame is it vnto a child of a noble familie to see himself ill attended when he pre­sents him self unto his Father before a noble assembly? Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt boldly say that it is a de­villish inchaunting, to see men so diligēt in gaining the goode which death will wholy deprive them of, if they do not before loose them, and so laisy in see­king after those treasures which will accompany them after death and com­fort them for all eternity.

IF thou hadst thy soul even on thy lips, and ther wanted but one breath for [Page 56]the departure of it, wouldst thou not be in a shamefull confusion to have sold and lost the merit of thy good actions for little vanity, for an humane respect, for a foolish compliance? Is it not chil­dish, to leave a piece of gold, for a pu­trifyed nutt? is it not most brutall, to sweate and kill himself with labour, to be solaced with a little winde? Is it not worse then folly, to do wel meerely for to be esteemed and praysed by men. Thinke well on it.

Be a fraide to receave the answere which God gave unto those vvho after having prayed much, and ben well mor­tefyed, thinking to be rewarded ther­fore, heard: I tell yee in truth, that yee have already receaved your salary and wages. Resolue to have a good intenti­on in all your actions to please God, rendring him all the glorie, that he will conserve thee entierly, for to enjoy him eternally.

LEt us conclud all in a vvord; If thou vvert in the passage vvhich all must [Page 57]make from this life unto the other; wouldst thou have done, sayd, or thought any the least thing a gainst the Majesty of him, before vvhom thou art going to receave the sentence of death or life eternall Thinke seriously on it, ne­ther more or lesse then if on this thought depended thy eternity of felicity or mi­sery.

Thinke lively on it, nether more or lesse, then if thou hadst a strong assuran­ce that after this half houre thou shalst not have any more time to thinke on it.

Thinke on it often and profoundly; Alas! thou thinkest day and night, two or three months together, on Philoso­phicall question; is not thy saluation more deare unto thee?

Thinke and considere well on it, be­seeching the blessed Virgin, thy good Angell and the Saints, that they engra­ven deeply this thought in thy heart, that it may produce the fruit of eter­nall life in thee.

THE SECOND PART Concerning that which one would not have done if he had ben to dye presently.

I remember to have read in the histo­ry of Barlaam and Josaphat, that ther was in a certaine Region of the world a florishing Kingdome, the habitants of which were accousto­med to choose a King evety yeare du­ring which time they gave him all sove­raignity, and a retinue sutable unto his quality, but the year was no sooner ex­pired, but then they banished him into a desolate and unhabited Island, wher he had more to suffer in exile, then he had recreation and pleasure in his Roy­alty. Among these annuall Kings, there was one more provident then the others, for foreseing that at the yeares end they would not fayle to use him after the sa­me [Page 59]manner they had afforded unto his predecessors; he resolued to live as fru­gatly as possibly, and to save all he could and to send it privatly into the place of his banishment, where he failed not to arrive at the ordinary time, and by re­ason of his providence did not meete with those inconveniences and miseries which the others found ther, but en­joyed pleasure and content. This Para­ble, for I do not belive it to be a true story, plainely declaires the blindnes and stupidity of those which the world hath raysed unto greatnes and riches with which they are wholy delighted and absorpt they never thinking that at the end of their life (which how longe so ever it be, is not a day in the kalender of God) the world will de­prive them of all it seemed to bestowe on them, sending them into the other world where they shall finde nothing but poverty and misery, for want of providence. Deare Reader I love thee too tenderly for to wish thee so much [Page 60]misery, but on the contrarie I do pray from the bottome of my heart for thy greatest happynes in the next life where thou must remayne for all cternity. And for this end.

I aske of thee, if God should send a messenger from heaven for to advertise thee that within eight dayes thou shalt die wouldst thou not be exceedingly pleased for having well imployed thy time in honoring and serving thy good Creator, in imitating in all thy actions the virtues of thy sweet Saviour, in cor­recting thy faults and doing pennance, in cultivating thy soul and adorning it with all virtues, in doing good to all that needed thy assistance, and ingaining the favour of those who are powerfull in the celestiall Court. What content­ment unto a Captayne who having bra­vely overcome his enimies returnes lo­den with pretious bootie and trophies before his Soveraigne, for to receave of him prayses and recompenses due unto him. Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt say that this is but a grosse and rude reprefentation of the ineffable joy which the Soul hath at the howre of Death, seing her self environed with many good workes, which conducts her vnto the Throne of God. O how sweet is Death unto such a Soul: O how willingly doth she behold it. Wherfore dost thou not live accordingly, that thou mayst die so?

AMiable Iesus sayes in the ghospell, that we ought to be alwayes rea­dy, for we know not when Death will come: If thou shouldst be warned that it will be to morrow, wouldst not thou thanke thy memory for having alwayes kept thee in the presence of God, and often put thee in minde of the favours which every moment thou receavest from the liberall hand of thy Creator for having perpetually presented unto thee the beauty of heaven and the hor­ror of hell? what hopes conceaves the courtier, who ever had his eyes on his Prince for to performe his will, when [Page 62]he perceaves the daye arriues of the Princes liberality and great bounty. Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt blesse the memory which affords so much felicity unto the soul, and wilt exhort thine to afford thee the like happynes.

IF thy understanding which endea­vors to know all, could understand that within two dayes it must depart this world would it not leap for joy to have fought the Creator in all creatures, and all crcatures in the Creator. not ha­ving esteemed any othet knowlegd, then the making, him self most agrea­ble unto God and to be conducted in all things by the faith which made him seeke after heaven in misprising the earth; what pleasure and comfort rece­aved the woman of the Ghosple at the finding of her groat which she had long seeked after? did she not invite her neighbours for to congretulate and re­joyce with her? Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt tesolue to imploy thy in­tellect [Page 63]inseriously considering the grandeurs of thy God, and thou wilt make use of all other sciences to arrive unto this knowledg.

IT is very probable that once in thy life thou hast desired thy death; If now thou shouldst see him with his mortiferous Sythe wouldst thou not feele asweet and delicious ravishment of heart for having never loved any o­ther thing then the infinitly amiable goodnes and him who hath infinitly lo­ved thee? How great is the consola­tion of the spowse of a Prince wher she is certayne to have soly loved her hus­band and that her bridegroome knowes her fidelity. Thinke well on it.

Boldly of affirme him unhappy and mi­serable who being able to love God, loves any thing els, take heed least thou be such an one.

IT is a long time since God hath prea­ched vnto thee, that thou shalt ren­der an account of all the talents, which be hath bestowed on thee; jmagine this [Page 64]to be the day in which he will demaund them of thee: and if it were, what sweet and ravishing content wilt thou feele in being able with truth to say with the servant of the ghosple lord thou hast given me five talents, behold other five I have gained over and above. Thou hast given me eloquence, which I ha­ve alwayes imployed to prayse thee, and to procure all others to do the sa­me. Thou hast given me a great spirite which I have used in overcoming thy e­nimies and comforting thy servants: Thou hast given me learning which hel­ped me to discover thy greatnes and mighty workes, and to declare them unto others: Thou hast given me the grace to be beloved of all, I have not taken any other pleasure, then that it might make me able to inforce all to love thee: Thou hast given me industry to trafick and gayne some thing, with which I have vertuously and decently maintayned my family and relived the poore. Who can explayne the joy and [Page 65]pleasure which thou wilt receave when the great Lord and Master imbrasing thee with affection shal say, welfare thee good and faithfull servant, be cau­se thou hast been faithfull over a few things I will place thee over many things: enter into the joy of thy lord.

Thinke well on it.

Whilst thou considers there on, I will listen, if thou please, unto a troo­pe of Saints, who ascending into hea­men singe with a most melodious voy­ce. O God almighty, thou hast delive­red us from this fiery tombe, in which thou hast for a time buried our soules; thou hast led us into thy glorie, in which we shall be invironed on all sides with eternall felicity. Lett all creatures blesse and praise thee for the favours so merci­fully, thou bestowest on us. Blessed be the time that we have imployed in thy holy service. Blessed be the memorie which made us remember thee for to ne­ver forgett thee hereafter. Blessed be the understanding which wholy endea­vored [Page 66]to know thee, and by that mea­nes to enjoy thee eternally. Blessed be the will which never would love any thing then thee for to be happily lost in thy infinit love. And blessed be the ta­lents and favors which thou hast given us, seing by their meanes we have gai­ned eternall happynes. O mortels im­ploy all your forces, powers and cn­deavors in the service of a God who is most infinitly deserving, and doth most liberally and superabundantly reward those who have rendred him never so little service.

I returne unto thee, who art next un­to God (as I have often told thee) the sole object of all my thoughts, and I continue in demaunding of thee; Jf to day thy eyes were to be closed for never to be opened in this life, wouldst thou not love them most tenderly for not having served thee but to read good and holy bookes, to behold pictures of devotion, to weepe for thy sinns, to consider with joy the prosperity of thy [Page 67]neighbour, and his miserie with com­passion, and to have ben never fixed on any creature but with honorable re­sentments of the Creator, will not these eyes shine like little starrs in the em­periall heaven? Thinke well on it.

Resolve to deprive thy eyes here on earth of all damageable objects, which are but fowle in comparason of those which are seen in heaven.

WHen thou dost heare the Bell for some buriall, if death should come and tell thee, to day it is for me, to morrow itt will be for thee: wilt thou not feele a sweet consolation, for ha­ving lent thy eares unto the divine office, unto spirituall discourses, unto good counsell, unto the prayses of others, to have suffered with patience contempt and injuries? wilt thou not blesse thy ea­res which never listened unto any evil thing. Thinke well on it.

Belive that if one were prepared and desierous to heare the celestiall musicke, that he were not in danger of dieing with the force of the sweet ravishment, [Page 68]witnes the seraphicall S. Francis.

IF now thou hadst lost thy speech, thy judgment being sound and who­le and that within two houres thou wert to lose thy life, wouldst thou not cordially love thy tongue for being im­ployed only in praysing and thanking now God, in inviting others to do the sa­me, in singing the victories of gene­rous souls, which by their holy lives gained the eternall kingdome, for speaking the virtues of their neighbours for maintaining the reputation of every one, for comforting the afflicted, in­couraging the timerous, confounding the wicked, and converting sinners, what glorie hath a souldier, whcn he presents his sword unto his king, which nevet unsheathed but for is Maje­styes service and for the ruine of his enemies. Thinke well on it

Resolue to governe and curb thy ton­gue so wisely and discreetly which is in thee as a bridle unto a horse, and a ster­ne unto a ship, that by its meanes thou [Page 69]maist conduct thy soul directly into heaven.

IT is a great charity to help a sick bo­dy who can not swallow any thing and is dying: Alas! put thy self in his place, and imagine that thou wert even now departing; among these corporall trances and perplexities, would not thy soul be in a pleasant calme and ex­tasie, knowing that it hath generous­ly avercome all the disordered appetits of drinking and eatings and although thy body were insensible, yet thy soul would rejoyce in being assured that thy body never admitted of the least touch contrary unto virtue. Thinke well on it.

Resolve to deprive thy self with dis­cretion of those meates commune unto gluttons, for the better to satiatt thy self with those particulare unto the Angels, and to touch nothing which may disple­ase him, who often touches thee in the holy Sacrament and whom thou hopest to embrase happely for all eternity in heaven.

CAnst thou give me a reason, vvhy the sick a little before death grope after I know not what with their trem­bling hands? for my part I am confi­dent, that if thou wert in this extreami­ty, thou wouldst kisse vvith honor thy hands, for having liberally distributed thy goods unto the poore: for having alvvayes laboured vvith right intention to please God, shunning all idlenes, for having discreetly chasticed thy body to make it subordinat and obedient un­to the lavv of the spirit: these hands vvill thy not be admired by all the celestiall Court, vvhen imbellished and adorned vvith pretious stones thy shall beare the palmes of an absolute victory, and the laurels of an eternall glorie. Thinke well on it.

Detearmine to sow largely for to reape plentefully.

THey say, that the fitst part that dies of the body are the seet; in fi­ne they are the first that looses heate and become insensible. If this evening thou [Page 71]shouldst feele thy self in this condition, and thou belivest that thou shouldst die before midnight, wouldst thou not ta­ke great pleasure in remembring the steps thou hast made to goe to the Church, to heare Mass, Sermons, and the Divine office; to visite the Hospi­tals, prisons, and the poore, to ac­complish holy Pilgrimages; these feet vvhich have walked in and through all places for to amplify thc glorie of God doe not they deserve to march on the azure vaults? Thinke well on it.

Make resolutions never to spare thy steps vvhen Gods service is concerned, for one day to march in triumph.

FOr conclusion, vvhen thy soul shal be separated from thy body for to render an accompt unto God of all thy faults, vvilt thou not vvith great affec­tion thanke that part vvhich hath ben best imployed in the scrvice of his divi­ne Majesty and hath suffered vvith most love and patience. Thinke well on it.

Thou vvilt make most efficacious re­solutions, [Page 72]especially if vvith attention thou cast thy eyes on the multitude of those Saints S. Iohn savv in his memora­ble ravishment, they appeared excee­dingly content in glorie; vvhich al­though it vvas not equal in all; their bodyes shined like little suns, yett so­me brighter then others proportionably unto their merits, ther vvas seen in those bodyes some partes more glittering, for having ben greater instruments of the honor of God their Creator; the head of S. Iohn Baptist vvas most majestical­ly radiant, for having ben cutt off sustay­ning the truth: the haire had the grea­test beauty in S. Mary Magdaline, for having vviped the feet of amiable Iesvs; the eyes of S. Peter shined most, for ha­ving so long and often vvept his sinn, the tongue of S. Chrysostome for ha­ving converted so many; the teeth of S. Appollonia for being pulld out con­fesseing the truth; the breast of S. Aga­tha vvere most bright, for being exposed unto the burning spinsers, rather then [Page 73]to deny her faith; the hands of St. John Almner, for having distributed so many alms, the feet of S. Xauerius sor having travailed so many unknown and barba­rous Countreys, for to lead thē into the fold of the holy Catholick Church, and so of others: who altogether do sing infinite praises unto the divine goodnes which hath so well provided for them, and for a little misery, rendred them so much happiness. Good Reader I ear­nestly desire, that thou couldst penetrate unto the bottom of my heart, for to see the good place thou hast ther, doubt­less thou wouldst have great confidence in all that I propose unto thee, and thou wouldst receave it with the same intenti­on as I deliver it, which is no other then to make thee a Saint. Tell me then, if thou knewest that after this hour, there remained for thee no more honor, im­ployment, estate, greatness, dignity, nor place in this world, wouldst thou not desire to have been the most hum­ble of men in imitation of Jesus Christ, [Page 74]and according unto the example of so many Saints who now tryumph in hea­ven, wouldst thou not be pleased to have yeelded a little of thy right, pre­cedeance, and greatness, for to be placed among the friends of God. I de­mand of thee, if it be not desireable to be the meanest of men for some few months, for to be all thy life of the chiefest of the Kings privy Councel. Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt conclude, if thou hast not lost thy common sence that it were most reasonable to be in the last ranck in this world, that after death the great Ma­ster Almighty God say unto thee: my Friend, ascend as high in heaven, as for my love thou hast been humbled on earth, which is most easy;

VVHen one ascends an high place, he is well pleased to have his cloak caried for him, to receave it on the top of the mountain: if thou must within two or three daies ascend unto the tribunal of God. wilt thou [Page 75]not be exceedingly comforted, to have caused many of thy goods to be carried thither by the poor? certainly thou wilt have need of them to cover thee before the Justice of Almighty God, who having been very liberal towards thee, requires that thou be so to the poor, is not this reasonable? Think well on it.

Resolve during life to put liberally thy goods in the Bank of God, that thou mayest receave an hundred fold.

IF thou wert at the last gasp of thy life, and thou shouldst see at the feet of thy bed the Mother of Mercy, who most willingly receaves a pure soul comming forth a chast body, wouldst thou not melt with joy for having preserved the purity of thy Body and Soul against the violent assaults of the world, Devil, and Flesh; wouldst thou not bless God for having given thee the industry to fly from and avoid these infamous and rave­nous Vultures, these enraged wolfs, these wicked companions, which de­stroy all. O what pleasure, content [Page 76]and honour is it unto a brave Captain: after having magnanimously defended the treasure of his King, in an unforti­fied place, against the furious assaults of a puissant enemy, and against the domestick treasons, he comes from thence tryumphant to tender the treasure unto the King, and to be rewarded by him. Think well on it.

Thou wilt firmly purpose to shun all the ocasions which may deprive thee of this treasure, and, to abandon rather a thousand lives then to lose it, bearing for thy device and cognizance. Rather to die a thousand deaths then to defile my Body.

IF within an hour thy soul should be prayed for, as it may happen, seeing we are not sure of one hour and shouldst call to mind the speech of our Saviour, saying, as thou measurest unto others so it shall be measured unto thee, wilt thou not be well satisfied, to have been meek, sweet, benigne and charitable towards all? Joyful for [Page 77]their good, and sorry for their evil, to have interpreted all they did to a good sense and to have alwaies spoken well of every one; wouldst thou not wish that God should treat thee so? Think well on it.

Determine to gain this virtue more pretious then the Philosophers stone, for it will procure thee those treasures without pain, which cost others so much labour and trouble.

VVHen thy soul shall take the last farewel of thy Body which it must though never so late, who knowes whether it shall be to morrow, wil she not thanke it most affectionatly, for that by its temperance it hath open unto her the gate for to enter unto the marriage of the Lamb, will not she bless all the Tasts, abstinences and mor­tifications which have gained her a good place in the eternal feast? which is bet­ter either for a little morsel to be cast forth of Paradise with Adam and Eve, or for a small abstinence to enter into [Page 78]Heaven with a multitude of Saint. Thinke well on it.

Resolve to observe temperance, which cannot be but discreet, for it is a virtue, which will prolong thy daies in health on earth, and render thee eternal­ly happy in the Kingdom of Heaven,

THou hast often heard say, that of three friends a man gaines in this world, to wit, Riches, Kindred, and good works, there is but one onely which faithfully keeps him company in the other world; the Riches leaves him in the bed as soon as his soul is expired, for the sumptuous funerals which are often made, are more proper to aug­ment the ambition of the living, then to afford any relief unto the dead, the Kindred seeme little more constant in Friendship, they accompany the body unto the grave with grief and tears; but I could not bc deemed a Lyar, if I should averr that very often they have more mind to laugh then to weep, for if any one weep in good earnest, the [Page 79]earth hath no sooner deprived him of sight of the dead, but he hath lost the memory of him, If he be a Sonne who hath buried his Father, he thinkes rather on what his Father hath left him, then to pray unto God for him; If he be a Husband who hath buried his wife, he dreames rather of the meanes to gain another more rich, then to relive her dead; the good workes accompany us unto the divine Tribunal; they plead our cause, & having obtained for us a crown of glory, remain with us, and are our ornaments for ever in Heaven, which of these Friends wilt thou have. Thinke well on it.

Despise and neglect the first which will abandon thee in the way, and ad­hear not too much unto the second, who will leave thee at the grave; but affect and addict thy self unto the third which will accompany thee for all eternity.

IF thou wert to be laid on a bed this evening, for to morrow morning to be carried unto the grave, which I [Page 80]know to have happen unto more then four, wouldst thou not be exceedingly content to have suffered with patience the loss of thy goods, thy renown, thy health, and all other things? and wouldst thou not rejoyce really for ha­ving moderated although with difficulty thy natural passions? wouldst thou not be infinitly consolated if God should tell thee: by thy Patience thou hast sa­ved thy Soul, and thou shalt dwell with me for all eternity in my glory?, Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt conclude, that he is most wife, who moderating his violent pa­ssions, had rather recourse in his affaires unto the puissant ayde of God, and so gain a great Crown in Heaven.

HEre I make an and of all my que­ries, and only ask thee, if being at this hour to die, thou dost remember among the paynes and anguishes of death, that thou hast used a great dili­gence in the service of God and for thy salvation, that for it thou hast not spa­red [Page 81]riches, life, nor honor, that for it thou hast imployed thy self day and night with all possible intention, that the glory of God, and the good of thy soul have been the two feet on which thou hast marched in all thy affaires; the two hands which hath made thee to la­bour alwaies; the two eyes which hath conducted thee through all! wouldst thou not be exceedingly cheerful and in fulness of delight, if then presenting thy soul unto God, he shall demand of thee; whofe Image is this? thou canst answer, Lord, it is the Image of the most holy Trinity which I have conser­ved inviolate the best I could possible, washing it in the blood of Jesus Christ, which I receaved in the Sacrament of Penance, when that I confessed any Sin; I have thereunto added, accor­ding unto thy intention, the imbellish­ment of all the virtues I knew to pra­ctice assisted with thy divine Grace. O what pleasure wilt thou feel, when after this answer, thou shalt see the Father [Page 82]Omnipotent give the kiss of peace unto thy Soul, acknowledging her for his child! what consolation, vvhen the most amiable Jesus shall imbraise it most affectionatly as his dear Spouse; vvhat ravishment, vvhen the Holy Ghost shall place it on high among the Saints of Heaven as his dear beloved? dear Friend I do beseech thee both for the good I vvish thee, and for the ardent affection I bear thee, Thinke well on it.

If thy patience being tired, thou telst me, that I sing but one song vvhich is very importunate and troublesome and that I break your brains with my. Think well on it.

And thou shouldest be exceedingly pleased if I would think on it well my self, and leave you in quiet, well, God be blessed, I did expect cleen another thing from a Person whom I so dearly love and desire to serve in the important affaires of the salvation of his soul; but patience, I will not any longer trouble thee, and I will depart presently, after [Page 83]I have said these two words, Thinke well on it or not Thinke on it.

These things will not saile to happen, Thinke on death or Thinke not on it, not­withstanding it will not leave approa­ching thee dayly, so that all the world­ly power cannot make it stop one mo­ment, nor make it avance before its time, most happy are those who often think on it, O how sweet and fair will they find it; miserable are those that never think on it, O how hideous and bit­ter will they find it.

Thinke to give an account, Thinke not on it, yet it must be made, maugre thee who soever thou art, Happy are they who thinke to keepe them selves alwayes ready. O how cheerfull will they depart; unfortunate are those who are never mindefull of it, O how cruelly shall they be treated;

Thinke that there is a Hcaven and a Hell, Thinke not on it, neverthelesse most assuredly thou most goe for all eternity unto the one or the other. [Page 84]Most happy are those who practice vir­tue which conducts them unto the first, O how few are there. Miserable are those who are given unto vice which leades them into the second, O what multitudes are there. But what do I? I am al most angry with one. whom I love as my self; excuse my dearest Friend I beseech thee, this little and sudden passion, and remember not what I sayed last; Thinke or not Thinke on it. Alas! all the contrarie, I doe conjure thee more thcn ever to Thinke on it with attention, to the end thou maist act better; permitt me to shew thee the meanes.

O death, how bitter is the memory of thee unto a man enjoying peace and content in his riches?

O death how sweet is the memory of thee unto a man having peace with his God! Choose, thou hast freedome.

THE THIRD PART Certaine meanes ayding to do well, what he would have ben done, and to hender the doing of that which he would not have ben done in this life.

WHat better and more prevalent reason can J give him, who is very deeply engraven in my heart, for to assist him in procuring his saluation? then that which the Holy Ghost sayes in the 7. of Eccle: My Sonn, in all thy workes remember thy later end and thou wilt not sinne for ever: and what must arrive then but Death, Judgment, Hell or Heaven? these therfore are the things which he coun­sels us to remember, if we desire to ser­ve God faithfully, and never to offend him.

Death.

I have already helped thee with the first, knowing it to be both the ea­siest applyed, because daily we see some one or other dye, or heare the bell for some buriall, and the most proper re­medie to cure our spirituall diseases, for thou never so affectionatly fastened un­to any thing, the sole thought of Death will easiely untye it; the horse leech is not so obstinately fastened unto the Body, but a few ashes will force him to quitt his hold.

Be thou proud and the most ambiti­ous that ever was, only consider that after death all will trample on thee, and thy bones shall not be distinguished frō those of the poorest begger, who per­haps will be happy in Heaven, when thou shalt burne in Hell, assuredly this consideration will render thee humble and make thee to esteeme all.

J suppose thee to be the most avari­cious in the world, and to thinke on no other thing then to gaine riches: if [Page 87]thou wouldst consider with Iob, that the rich Man being awaiked from the sleepe of death shall finde nothing of what he had gathered together and o­pening his eyes in the other life he shall find nothing but torments which he hath merited by his rapine: thou wilt of necessity moderate thy disordinate affection which thou hast towards pe­rishable and momentary riches.

When thou hast the most violent passion to be esteemed and to be loved, if thou should consider, that in a mo­ment, after thy death all these Gallants will be fled and not one will remaine with thy Body; thou wouldst not seeke so much to please them, thou wouldst not yeeld unto so many remisse, effe­minate and unworthy condescendments which blemish the reputation and are cause of the damnation of many.

If thou wert the greatest foole and the most passionate of lovers, for any hu­mane beauty do but imagine thy belo­ved to be deade and putrified, as she [Page 88]must be one day, it will be impossible that the flame which burnes thee be not immediatly extinguished; O how easie it is to subdue the flesh whilst it is ali­ve and sound, if one consider what it will be when it is dead.

Jf thou wert as hardened with malice as Pharao, and for all the miracles of the world thou wouldst not bend unto the will of God, no more then he did, if death should enter into thy thought, thou wouldst presently yeeld unto rea­son, as he did as soone as it appeared in his Kingdome and in his owne house.

I know not whether it be true which some report of Panders that they mak­e use of dead mē skulls as a remedie for all their diseases: but I am most certayne that the memorie of death is a most powrfull and afficacious meanes to cure all spirituall evils and to restore the soul unto perfect health. King David vere­fyes my assertion: my lord, sayes he I had great difficulty to pardon injuries and wrongs which my enemyes did me, [Page 89]chastity seemed unto me very hard to keepe, contempt was intollerable; and in-deed, J found all thy commande­ments al most impossible: but when seriously I considered that all here are trā ­sitory, and that I must die, this narow way became of its self wide and large, chastity appeared easie, pardoning of enimies reasonable, and all thy precepts light.

If the remembrance of Death des­troyeth sinn, the oblivion of it doth intertaine and nourish it: for Esaias ca. 47. counting the sinns of Babilon, and the punishments with which God would afflict them, sayes, that the cau­se of those evils was that they did not re­member Death. Jeremy seekeing the origine of the vices which reigned in the City of Hierusalem affirmes it to be no other, then the little mindefulnes they had of their end.

SAtan having had a long experience of the soveraigne virtue of this remedie, endeavors by all meanes to hender man [Page 90]from making use of it. I can not better make thee comprehend his malicious inventions their by the catching or kil­ling of woodculvers which are wilde Pigeons: the bird catcher or Fowler having found the tree on which they settle and roost at night in troopes (for they are birds that consort together in­multitudes) chooseth an abscure and darke night, and takes others with guns and drums, being arrived at the place, they begin to beat the drum­me but softly, for feare that the Birds should fliy a way, and increasing the noyse by little and little, they enure them so unto the sound, that they at last beat the drummes with all their for­ce, with out ever fritghting the Pige­ons; in the meane while one creepes, unto the foot of the tree, where he holds up a candle which he had in a darke lan­terne, the woodculvers which are de­lighted with light descende unto the lower branches of the tree to enjoy the light, then they shoot, and at every [Page 91]shott they kill many, the others which were higher thinking their companions fled. not hearing the gunne by reason of the noise the drummes make, takes their place and are also killed; Behold the explication of this; the tree represents the world, the wood Culvers are the men, the Fowler is the Divell, who intices and allures them unto him­self, vvith pleasures, honors and riches, vvhich are like little fires or lights, a bout vvhich men fly vvhiles death stri­kes them, their companions never take notice of the blovv, by reason of the greate noise vvhich the vvorld makes, figured vvel by the drummes; So that one hath no sooner quitted these smal splendors, but an other courts and see­kes them; one hath no sooner left any benefice or office, but an other flyes thether, and so all passe, all die, and the gratest part are lost for not haveing sufficiently ben vvarned by the death of others; that if any one hath reflected on it, if any one hath ben moved. these [Page 92]resentments as quickly passe, as a flash of lightning; and even as vve see hogs hie together in troupes, grunt, and are affrighted vvhen any one of them is kil­led, but he is no sooner dead, then eve­ry one returnes unto his former imploy­ment; this unto his wallowing in mire, that unto his rooting with his nose the earth, an other to fill him self in the trough; even so when a man is dead, the neighbowrs are astonished, the do­mestikes weepe, the kindred are aggrie­ved; but as soone as he is buried, every one return unto his affaires, unto his former passions and vices. But if all had a lively and couragious spirit, and a profound judgment, one word in a hundred yeares, or to see one dead would be sufficient to convert all those who should see it, and considere seri­ously that the same must infallibly hap­pen unto them selves: from whence then proceeds so smal profitt? Thinke well on it.

Thou wilt finde that it proceeds, [Page 93]either from the malice of the Divell, who deprives thy soul of this profitable thought, and diverts it otherwayes, if great care be not taken; or from the in­constancie of thy jmagination, which is so wavering that it knowes not how to remaine long on the same thing, if it be not constrained by often reflecti­ons, therfore I deeme it most necessa­rie, if thou desirest to profitt by this meanes, that when thou, beginest any busine;, thou considerest how thou wouldst have done it; if presently thou were to die. More, that once a month thou retirest into a solitary pla­ce, and dismissing all other thoughts, prostrat at the feet of a Crucifixe either in thy chamber, or in a Church, thou seriously thinkest on these three or four points.

That the end of thy life will come very soone, perhaps before the month be ended.

That thou must leave all thou hast in this world, honors, richers and [Page 94]pleasures, carrying nothing with thee but the remorse of thy conscience, and the sinns which thou hast committed.

That the Body having given up the Ghost after many paynes and conflicts, shall be sowed in a poore sheete, layed in the grave, and reduced into ashes, being forgotten of all the world.

That the soul shall be happy if at the houre of Death, it be in good state, but most miserable if it be in mortall sinne, and into what part soever it be carried, into Heaven or into Hell, it shall remaine ther for ever: and then imagining thy self to be at the last gas­pe, and holding the Crucifix in thy hand, say with fervor.

O most mercifull Iesus, my support and my strength, in whom I be­leeve, in whom I hope, whom I love and ever will love, afforde me at this houre thy powerfull hand for to depart securely. I confesse before the whole world, that my miserable life hath ben replenished with many great wicked­nesses, [Page 95]of which I heartely repent my self, and I do confide that thy infinit goodnes will pardon me and not per­mitt my soul to be lost, for which thou gavest thyn on the Crosse. No, I can not beleeve that thou wilt repulse me, o my dearest Iesus, for I am flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, sonn of thy Father, thou also calst me thy Brother. Therfore my Brother, seing thou hast taken my humanity, to give me thy divinity, deliver me at this hou­re from the throat of the lyon. I kisse this side from whence proceeded my happynes, open it unto me, and wash my ordures and impurities with the wa­ter and bloud which issued from thence, I adore these hands which were nailed for me, unto them I recommend my soul, they have created me, they will save me. I honor these woundes, in which I will hide my self, untill the choler of my judg be passed.

O celestiall Father, be unto we propitious, and remember that my [Page 96]sinnes have ben chastised with al rigour in the person of thy most beloved Sonn. O my lord Jesus Christ permitte not the the infinit price of thy bloud to be unprofitable unto my soul. O holy Ghost, fortefy me with thy grace, that I do not faile or be subdued in this last con­flict. O Mother of God, who hath ben most charitable and favorable unto me all my life time, be so now in this moment I beseech thee, on which de­pends all my felicity. O S. Michael who has the commission to present Soules unto the divine Tribunall, and to de­fend them from the enemy, I recom­mend mine unto thee. O good Angell guardian, helpe me; O all yee S. of Heaven come unto my succour, that leaving this earth, I may ascend into Heaven for to prayse eternally with yee our soveraigne Creator.

The Iudgment.

THe consideration of Judgment which followes Death is not lesse profitable, then that of death, if it be [Page 97]maturely pondered; when I represent unto my self, sayes Job, the justice, im­partiality, and rigour of the divine judgment and the exact account I must render, I am so frightned with my sinns, that I am enforced to resolue to shun them more then the greatst evil what so ever. The Saints conducted by the Holy Ghost do exhort thee to thinke on it often: place thy self before the eyes of this Soveraigne judge, adviseth S. Gre­gorie, feare him now, to the end that abstaining from vice, thou mayst not feare him when he shall judge thee, re­member the name of that king, who seing the picture of the generall judge­ment entred into such a strong apprehē ­sion that he was almost dead. Certes if thou rightly imagine what it will be, thou wilt stifle all the imperfections of thy Soul. St. Hierosme had not a better practice for to triumph ouer vice, and to addict him unto all virtue, whether I eate, sayes he, drinke, sleepe, or wa­ke, and in all I do, it seemes to me that [Page 98]I heare this dreadfull and terrible voice. Arise yee dead and come vnto judgment.

IN good earnest, if thou knewest as­suredly, that within two or three hours thou wert to be summoned to an­swer before the Tribunal of God, wouldst thou dare? O! for the love of God mark what I ask thee: wouldst thou dare yet once more, I beseech thee, think well on what thou wilt answer: wouldst thou well dare to resolve, to appear at the Judgment of God?

IN this fearful and terrible Judgment, where thou shalt find assembled the great Councel of the King of Kings, who hath ordained this hour for to de­cide wholly and justly the criminal pro­cess of thy Conscience. Process, in which will be examined exactly all the parts of thy life, a Process where will be determined the final sentence of thy e­ternal felicity or misery. VVhoudst thou dare, I say, to appear in the condition thou art, for to plead thy cause? Thou who art so bashsul and fearful, when [Page 99]thou art taken in never to little a fault. Thou wouldst thou dare to behold a Per­son of quality. Thou who tremblest at the least apparent danger: VVouldst thou dare, appear in the presence of him, be­fore whom the most puissant Monar­chies of the earth tremble; the highest Seraphins hide themselves with their wings, not being able to endure and be­hold the brightness of so great a Majesty. Ah! for the sacred and bitter Passion of Jesus Christ; Thinke well on it.

When I consider how thy soul leaving thy body is in danger to fall into the hands of the Apparitours of the Sove­raign Judg who will lead thee directly before this dreadful Parliament; I sweat I am in a trance with the imagination, I have of seing thee at Barr for to answere being strongly accused.

BUt, by whom? by thy mortal ene­mies, or rather, immortal; who out of the hatred which they bear thee, vvil not omit the least thing they can re­proach thee vvithal, in this great and [Page 100]majestical assembly: by whom? by those vvho heretofore have been thy good Friends; as the Blessed Virgin, thy good Angel, so many Saints, who hath taken so great paines to save thee, if thou vvouldst have harkened unto them by whom? by the complices and confe­derates of thy vvickedness, vvho are enraged against thee, and by thy ovvn Conscience vvhich vvill say open unto all the vvorld all thy imperfections.

But of vvhat shalt thou be accused? of all, in vvhich thou hast not kept the Commandements God gave thee, & the holy inspirations vvhich he most loving­ly suggested unto thee: of all vvhich thou vvast oblieged to do, according to the estate unto vvhich God hath called thee. of all vvhich thou hast done to satisfy thy unruly passions. of all vvhich thou hast neglected to doe for the glory of God.

But, hovv accused; vvith so much assurance; of thy adverse Party, that nobody vvill dare to reply, or speak [Page 101]one vvord in thy behalf and defence; vvith so much evidence, of all thy im­perfections that not one of them can be hid or disguised: vvith so great remorse of thy Conscience, that thou vvilt ac­knovvledg all: vvith so much shame, that thou vvilt desire the mountaines to fall on thee. Is not this dreadful? Think well on it.

Having thought on it seriously; if thou dost not conceave a great fear, if thou tremblest not vvith terrour, par­don me I beseech thee, if I doubt and mistrust the verity of thy faith, for hovv can I be assured that thou beleevest rightly, if thou makes no reckoning and es­teem of things so important, and con­cernes thee so much; vvhat meanes to be persvvaded that thou regardes it, if vvhen it is presented unto thee, thy Heart remaines colder then marble, and more hard then steel. Wherefore, earnestly endeavour to knovv thy self, seeing that thou shalt be most rigorously judged.

O Great affair is it to appear for to ansvver before so great a Court, it is exceeding misfortune to be accused by every one, to be charged of grievi­ous crimes, but that vvhich surpasseth all imagination; is to be judged at the last appeale by the Soveraigne Judge of Judges: this every one ought to appre­hend vvith horrour that is not vvholly deprived of reason, this vvill make e­very one to yeeld that is not vvorse then a Turk, this vvill cause every one to vveep, that beleeves he hath a soul; to fall into the hands of God, for to be feverly judged, to be in the povver of no more a benigne Father, for to con­demn us vvithout favour or mercy; to be chastized no more by the chast lamb vvho did so amorously shed even unto the last drop of his blood, for to give us Heaven. But by the roaring Lyon of Juda vvho comes to take revenge of all the faults committed against him. O day most dreadful! O Judg most terri­ble and vvithout mercy! O judgment [Page 103]full of terrour! But vvhat, is there no meanes to procrastinate, delay or pro­long it never so little? No no, to de­mand any such thing is but time lost. vvhetefore delay it, seeing the crimes are manifest? the offender hath not any thing to reply; it is a very great folly to only think on it! the knowledg of thy Judg is it not infinite? is not his bounty and goodness unlimited? unto vvhom canst thou make thy address vvho is more benign? his justice is it not the rule of all justice? unto what Court wilt thou appealc, that can be more just? his power is it not the omnipotence of a God? who can resist or contradict him? Thinke well on it.

Turne thee on all sides, and putt thy self all postures, retire thee in what place thou wilt, it is done with thee, thou canst not expect any thing, but this great storme which is ready to fall on thy heade, and to make thee know, that thou art most justly condemned.

ALas! condemned? but to what? to what? to be never more the Child of the eternall Father who had adopted thee by Creation. To what? to loose the inheritance which Iesus Christ had purchased for thee in heaven, by his bitter Fassion. To what? to be for ever separated from the delightfull and glorious Society of the Sacred Virgine, of the Angels, and Saints, who did expect thee, for to prayse God with them. O inestimable! O cruell separa­tion! To what? unto torments a thou­sand times more intollerable then all the Tyrants could ever invent: unto Fi­re a thousand times more burning then these of this world; Fire alwayes fla­ming without light, fire alwayes bur­ning without diminishing: is not this sufficient for thee, who can not endure the roughnes of a haire cloth? is not this too much for thce who can not suffer without complayning the prick of a pinn? Thinke well on it.

For my part I am at a stand, being u­nable [Page 105]to resolue to heare this sentence against thee, which will make to trem­ble the Heavens, earth and Hell. Goe thou cursed begon far from me for ever, since when ther was time thou wouldst not serve me: depart from hence for to weepe in the bottemlesse pitt, because thou hast not done it on earth. Gett thou away for to burne in the fire, which causing thee a thousand paines never shall consume thee. Goe unto the company of the Divels, who will make thee pay most dearely for all the fol­lies of thy life. Who can imagine the ra­ge with which the Divels will seize on thee? the promptnesse with which they will torment thee in Hell. Deare Frlend, is it not true that if this misfortune should happen unto thee, Alas! God of his goodnes preserve thee from it, is it not true, that thou wouldst profound­ly sigh, and say with a lamentable voice, O if! o if!

O if I had but one day of those which I have so unfortunatly lost, if I could finde an houre of time which I have [Page 106]evelly imployed, if at least one quarter of an houre were given me, for to saye, A good peccavi.

O with what a good Heart would I say it! O how I would cast my self on my knees! O how would I knock my breast! how great a griefe would I have for my sinnes. But what henders thee from doing all this now? wherfore doest thou delay it; courage, I doe conjure thee by all that is most deare unto thee: Cast thy self on thy knees, say this good peccavi; but say it staiedly, and with feeling sly:

Mercy, o my God, mercy, I repent with all my Heart for having offended thy divine goodnes, because thou art my good God, and my All: I love thee and honor thee aboue all things: I will never more offend thee thy grace assis­ting me, and I will alwayes avoyed the occasions of sinning: in satisfaction of my past faults, I offer thee my life and all I have. Receave me I beseech thee, since thou hast moved me to aske [Page 107]it, through the merits of thy Sonn Je­sus Christ, and never permitt me to of­fend thee again.

Hell.

THer are those who deeme it unmeet and inconvenient that a generous and brave spirite should make use of the consideration of Hell, for to shun vice, and to addict himself unto the service of God, who having made all for love, will that we serve him for love. Serious­ly I do not conceave how it shall be un­lawfull for any one to practice to do well by this meanes, seing St. John Baptist made use of it, to leade all the word unto God. Preaching alowd and clearly, that every tree, that is to say, every Man that doth not yeeld good fruit, shall be cutt downe and cast into the fire: the Saviour of our Souls in the sermon of his last supper presented unto his Disciples the same re­medie, for to oblige them to be alwayes dutifull and obedient, even as, sayed he unto them, the vine branches being [Page 108]separated from the the stock, withers, and is cast in the fire, even so the sinner shall be cast out of my company, shall loose all the guifts and all the virtue he had to doe good, and shal be throwne into the eternal fire. St. Athanasius re­lates; that St. Anthony assaulted with strong and violent temptations in the beginning of his holy life overcame thē victoriously by seriously thinking on the torments of Hell. And Metaphra­stes recounts, that St. Martinian being even lost and ready to committ a great sinn, he cast him self on the fire and permitting himself to burne a little while discoursed with himself, saying see Martinian if thou canst endure the eter­nall flames, whether this sinne thou art goeing to committ will infallibly leade thee, if thou resents so much this tem­porall fire which is extinguished with a little water: if thou finde it so unsup­portable, what will be the eternall fire, which can never be extinguished? by this meanes he vanguished the tempta­tion. [Page 109]Well, seing that this remedie is so profitable, I beseech thee. Thinke well on it.

TO the end that thou mayst make it more profitable, inquire of any one that knowes it, what Hell is. Job will tell thee that it is a country full of obscure darknes and noisome stinkes, wher there is no order, but an intollera­ble horror; and eternal confusion. Salomon will assure thee, that it is a most bottomlesse pit, from whence no­ne can come, that is fallen there in. Jsayas will explicate it unto thee, that it is a Prison full of a most vehement fire, which although it be of the same nature with the elementarie fire, is in­comparably more efficacious to tor­ment, because it doth not act with the sole natural virtue, but as the instru­mēt of the infinit divine power of God, which is elevated to torment the dam­ned, as much as Gods justice requires; from whence it is, that it needes not any matter for its maintenance: it can [Page 110]never be extinguished, because it is the breath of God, to witt, his infinite power that kindles it according unto Jsayas. The Divines hold, that it is re­plenished with all sortes of evils, and voyed of all good, it is in vayne for to dispute of it, sayeth the devout Rus­broquius: for when we have saied all that can be sayed of the paynes of Hell, it will be much lesse in comparison of what it is, then a drop of water compa­red unto the whole Ocean; S. Augustine in one of his epistles sayeth, that a dead man raised to life by the touching of St. Hierosmes haire shirt testefyed unto St. Cyrille Bishop of Hierusalem that the torments of the other life were so great, that if any one had experimented the least, he would choose rather to be even unto the day of judgment in a furnace wher all the fire of the world was inclo­sed, then to suffer onc day in Hell: are not these things dreadful? Think well on it

ANd following the counsell of St. Bernard, descend often into Hell [Page 111]whilst thou livest by thy meditations to the end that after thy death thou beest not shut up there for al eternity.

Consider advisedly how the Souls of the damned are hideously tortured, be­cause they see themselves deprived for all eternity of the vision of God: a tor­ment farr greater then can be imagined in this world.

All their powers are full of bittternes and anguish inexplicable, the memorie with the remembrance of past pleasures and of future evils, the understanding with the perfect knowledg of all it hath done, preferrlng the creatures before the Creator, the transitorie goods and pleasures, before those which shall ne­ver have an end; the will with an inra­ged hate which they have against God, which will make them utter a thousand blasphemies: the imagination with the lively apprehensiō of the present payens and yett more to follow;

The fire acts with farr greater heate against them then doth our inflamed [Page 112]coales agaist a Barr of Iron which it burnes and inflames in the Furnace.

The remorse of Conscience excessi­vely gnawes and vexes, for the meanes representing them selves, which it hath had of salvation, although it doth not re­pent of the sinn, as an offence against God, yett it burstes with griefe and ra­ge for having committed the evil which hath ruined it. Esau roared like a lyon, seeing that for a smal dish of porridge he had lost his right of inheritance: the damned soul doth yet worse, knowing that for a short pleasure, for a base re­veng, for a little word she hath lost Heaven: in good earnest, is not this an ineffable heart breake? Thinke well on it.

MArke how the body shall ther suf­fer an insupportable fire; it shall be cast into an extreame cold, it shall be hammered cruelly on most hard Anvi­les, broken on wheels, grounded in a mill, Cut and shred with rasours, pier­ced with leances. Infinē, imagine all the punishments that the Tyrants have [Page 113]invented to torment the Martyres, the brasen Buls, boiling Cauldrons, Com­bes of Iron, Crosses, Fires, Rasours, all this was but an eesie and short Pren­tiship to that which the Divels make the damned to suffer in all the parts of their Bodies but especially in their five senses.

The sight shall be cruelly tormented with thick obscure darknesse, which depriving them of all comfort of the light, shall afford them I know not what unfortunat cleernesse, which shall cause them to see hideous and ghastly specta­cles of their torments, and so many dreadful shapes of the infernall mon­sters, the sight of which shall be intol­lerable, without any relaxation. Alas? if the seeing of one Divell is able to cause the death of the most couragious, what shall do, I beseech thee, the hor­rible spectacle of all the Divels and the damned?

The Hearing shall be incessantly frighted with the despairable cryes, with [Page 114]dreadfull howlings, and with most exe­creable blasphemies which these misera­bles shall utter against them selves, and against God. Imagine a thousand Peo­ple in the fire even unto the chinn, eve­ry one lamentably crying, how insup­portable will their clamors be; and what is this in comparaison of a hun­dred thousand millions of the damned which burne in Hell? The Ambitious, shall saye I despaire with griefe: Cursed vanities which hath brought me hether: the Avaritious, shall complaine; I am enraged with the paynes, cursed riches­ses, which are the cause of my euil; the Lascivious shall yell, I burne, cursed pleasures which have kindled me this fire &c.

The Taste inportuned with an excee­ding hunger and extraordinary thirst, shall have for viande loathsomes Toads, and the gall of Dragons for drinke, this shall but increase the Hunger and thirst; witnesseth the cursed Richman, who almost two thousand yeares since de­manded [Page 115]a drop of water for to assuage the thirst which did torture him, and as yet hath not obtained it, nor never shall.

The Feeling shall be tormented through all that is sensible by fire, which shall penetrate even unto the marrow, cold shall succeede, which shall congeale the bloud with in the veines with sharpe aches: an hundred times in foure aid tweety houres the flesh shall be torne and the bones bro­ken, and as often redintegrated and re­paired, an hundred times shall be powred on the Body boiling oyle, melted lead, and they shall not con­sume.

The Smelling shall be infected with stinking and noisome smells, which shal exhale not only from the inful­phured fire, and the tainted sinkes of Hell, but also from the Bodies of the damned: Odors so insupportable that St. Bonaventure affirmes, that one Bo­dy of the damned would be able to in­fect [Page 116]the whole world with the plague.

In the lives of the Fathers it is writ­ten, that a certaine religious man dam­ned appeared unto his companion who asked him, if the paines of Hell were so cruel as they preach: know, answe­red he, that they are such, that the ton­gues of men are not able to explicate the rigour of them. Couldst thou not give me some proofe, saied the compa­nion? I will, replied the damned, wouldst thou see, heare, taste or feele them: Alas! sayed the Religious, I am not able to see or heare them, for I am too timerous, nether to feele them, being too delicate, much lesse am I able to taste them, having so weake a stomack; but I should be content to smell them, never the lesse as favorably as may be: this being sayed, the damned opened his cloke, with which he seemed to be covered, from whence issued so horrible stinke, that all the Religious were constrained to leave the Monaste­ry, without ever being able to inhabite [Page 117]there againe: if one damne soul caused so great infection, what shall, J pray thee, so many millions of Souls and bo­dies burning in Hell cause? Thinke well on it.

ADde unto all these evils the com­ble and chiefe of all these miseries, which is, that all these cruell torments shal never have an end; my deare Friēd, at this word Never, thy Heart though never so couragious doth it not faile thee? yes, never the miserable damned shal shal have an end of their paine: after an hundred yeares torment, a thou­sand of yeares begin, and they being ended, an hundred thousand are be­ginning, and after them succeeds as ma­ny millions as there are drops of water in the Sea, and Athomes in the aire, and after all this ther will remaine an eternity intire, O eternity, thou art exceeding! O eternity, thou art most horrible! O eternity, thou art badly considered! Eternity, Eternity. O the weighty word Eternity. If one were for [Page 118]tenn yeares to lye on a soft bed, and strewed with roses, what a great tor­ment this would be? if one were con­strained for twenty yeares to have his eyes fixed on the most agreable object of the world, what anguish and wea­risomnes vvould it cause? if thy eares during fifty yeares vvere inforced to heare the most ravishing musick on earth, vvould it not be insupportable? Alas! O my God, what will be the e­ternall paine which with out any miti­gation or solace, will continue for e­ver? to be couched for ever on most ardent coales, to swallow alwaycs most bitter gall. and wormwood mingled with the foame of Serpents, to see for ever the hideous and inexplicable shapes of the divels: to heare alwayes the en­raged musick of horrid blasphemies which the damned shall utter against God: to smell the stinkes and the intol­lerable infections of Hell for all eter­nity:

For ever, Alas my God! alas, how [Page 119]long is this for ever! that shall never have an end, nor rest, it is exceeding long; to suffer for ever, it is a miserie without a second; if it were for a thou­sand yeares, one might hope that it would have an end, but for ever, my soul likes it not. O! For ever, a great for ever, which never can be compre­hended; this eternall ever, frights my Soul; considering this ever, what Heart doth not fayle and tremble.

Heaven.

THe consideration of Heaven must-needes be a very efficacious mea­nes for to withdraw us from vice, and to leade us unto virtue: seeing that the Prince of the Apostles made use of it for to excite Prelats to justly performe their duty: firmely believe yee, sayes he unto them, that in recompense of your fide­lity, and labours which yee have taken in the government of souls, yee shall re­ceceave a Crowne of Glorie, which shall shine on your heads all eternity. St. Paul imployed no other reason, for [Page 120]to persuade the Collossians to cast off the old man which carryes with him many infirmities, and to revest them­selves with the new man, who hath for his portion the greatest virtues, if yee do this, sayes he, the celestiall inheri­tance shall be the high prize and avan­tageous reward of your paynes. Jesus Christ himself, after having declared unto his Disciples the many wayes which leades unto Heaven, found no­thing more efficacious for to incourage them, thē to say unto them, my Friends, among the difficulties with which yee shall incounter in these separated wayes from the commun and publike way. Confide couragiously on the assurances which I give yee, that they will conduct yee unto infinite rewards. The greatest Saints made use of this consideration for to practice the highest virtues. Heare David, who speakes for all. O my So­verign Lord, I confesse that I had an exceedingly proud Heart, and very hard to yeeld unto thy favorable inspirations, [Page 121]but by the consideration of thy infinit recompences, I have humbled it, and made it to performe all thy pleasures and commands. Deare Friend, tell me, art not thou able to do the same? Thinke well on it.

BEcause the true recompance which God gives unto his good servants is found in Heaven, it is necessary to know what this Heaven is. St. John Apoc: 21. affirmes, that it is a great City, of which the walls are of preci­ous stones raised on a fundation of pure gold, with twelve gates most magnifi­cent, which serves but for shew, for they are never shutt, for the light which produceth there a continuall faire day, banisheth all darknes and night.

St. Matthew sayes, it is a great King­dome. St. Luke addes, that it is eternal. St. Peter calls it divine; divine indeed. since that God is ther King, the Virgin Mother is ther Queene, the Angels are the Courtiers, and all the Saints are there Inhabitatants. A Kingdome where [Page 122]all the discourse is of Ioy and content­ment. All griefe, vexation, anger, and disquiet being banished thence; wher is not to be seen any Plebeyan or mean Person, all there being most Noble: wher all that is good is found in aboun­dance, without any want: the Divines teache, that it is an Estate composed of all the good imaginable, and yet mo­re then can be imagined, and exempt from all evils. Dispute no more of it, sayes St. Paul, for I who have ben there can not declare the things I have seen ther, so great and admirable they are. No truly, addes St. Augustine, for though all the tongues of men, yea of all the Angels should be imployed in it, they could not declare them. J will not omit notwithstanding to say a word or two, of this place, of the company, and of the glorie of this beautifull Heaven: whilst I shall speake, Think thou well on it.

THe place wher Heaven is seated, is very high; infinite in its extension, most pure, and most fertile and full of [Page 123]all goodnes: the Philosophers and rea­son teach us, that the place ought to an­swer, the qualitie of him that ther is lod­ged, even so we see the Palaces of Prin­ces do surpasse and excell in beautie and richesse, the Cottages of Peasantes and clownes. I will leave thee to think what must be the mansion and habitation of a God and of all his Favorits, compared with all the Howses of this world. One must be ignorant that the Firmament so admirable in beauty, so shining with stars is but the pavement of this divine Howse, for not to conclude evidently, that with in there are other rarietyes farr beyond our imagination. O Lord, God of Power, sayes David, how char­ming is the place of thy habitation, my Soul can not think on a more agreable and delectable thing, because thinking on it, presently it is ravished. Great King, thou hast greater occasion to do this, then the Queene of Saba had, con­sidering the wonders of the Palace of thy Sonn Salomon. Jt is this that caused St. [Page 124]Ignatius casting amorous looks towards Heaven, and melting into teares to say. O how miserable the earth seemes unto me when J behold the Heaven, that is the abode of mortals: this the habitati­on of the immortals, that the place of banished men, this the natural country of Angels. that the prison of Sinners. this the noble Palace of the just and of the Children of God. Happy, a thou­times happy those who dwell in this ho­ly Mansion, for in a most accompli­shed felicitie, they shall prayse God for ever and ever, desirest not thou to be in this holy howse. Think well on it.

THe noble Company of the Saints will cause an inexplicable ravish­ment. What happines, J beseech thee, to discourse familiarly and friendly with so many Patriarkes, and Prophites, with so many Apostles and Disciples, with so many Martyres and Confessours, with so many most pure Virgins whose reli­ques are in this world so much esteemed that often times long pilgrimages are undertaken for only to kisse thē. What [Page 125]joy to see continually the Angels? if it be deemed a great favour to see any one of them in a human forme, what will it be to see them all in their proper shape: what pleasure to be alwayes with the Mother of God, who is an hundred ti­mes more beautifull then the Monn, and more radiant then the sunn. O happynes inestimable! O contentement beyond comparison to enjoy the com­pany so noble, so beautifull, so per­fect, so complete, so vnited with a liga­ture of Love, that every one estremes the good and felicity of all as his owne, and all deemes the happynes of each one as their proper. Who is able to declare the felicitie that he enjoyes who is in the company of most amiable Jesus, to be with him in the most pleasanr and de­lightsome gardens of Paradise, to sit at his Table, alwayes to follow him, to behold his divine Face, which rejoy­ceth the Angels, and is a part of the fe­licity of the Saints. It is impossible to imagine the contentment which the soul [Page 126]shall have in seeing its Creator, no mo­re in a myrror or looking glasse, but face to face, as he is in the splendor of his Divinity: it is in this sight, that the soul will be inflamed with love: it is in this love that it will be lost in God; it is in this losse that it shall finde all honors, wealth and pleasures, is it not true?

Thinke well on it.

THe glorie of Heaven more surpas­seth all that which hath ever ben good beautifull and agreable in this world, and which shal be, then the oce­an exceeds a drop of water. St. Ber­nard sayes that this glorie is so great, that it can not be measured, so long that it hath no end, so numerous that it can not be reckoned, so precious and excellent that it can not be valued. St. Augustin enhauncing the price of it as­sures: that it goes beyond all Beliefe, that it surpasseth the limits of Hopes, that it can not be comprised by Charity. I wonder not at it sayes one; for if we can hardly know the great benefits [Page 127]which God in this life bestowes indiffe­rently on his Friends and enimies, what shall be the Blessings which he hath re­served in Heaven for his Favorits? If entring into a Palace thou seest the sta­bles gilded and azured, if thou percei­vest the chambres of scullions shining with precious stones, wilt thou not conceave some thing more magnificent, for the lodgings of the gentry and nobi­lity and for the Cabinet of the King? The Saints with these considerations be­came transported and ravished, St. Ig­natius at the sight of Heaven melted in­to teares. St. Francis at the pronoun­cing of the celestiall Glorie licked his lipps as a lickorous Person doth at the savor of some delicate and sweet meate. St. Bernard at the sole name of Heaven rehearsed by Children, as he walked in the streets, entred in to a profound ex­tasie. The Saints seriously thinking on this Beatitud, have with a commune voice sayed, that all the afflictions of this life have not any proportion with [Page 128]the consolations, which those shall re­ceave who have suffered them with pa­tience for the love of their God. All Cre­ateurs even the Divels themselves ac­knowledgeth this truth, for we read in the spirituall Medow, that a Divel being demanded, what he would doe for to enjoy the glorie and felicity in Heaven, was constrained to answere, that if it were in his powre, and had a Body, he would willingly be pounded and brayed in a Morter, or burned in a Furnace untill the end of the world, for to enjoy only one quarter of an Howre the Glo­rie of Heaven. Alas! It will not cost us so much, if we be but willing and dili­gent, to be ther for ever.

My deare Friend, if thou believest all that I have sayed, and what is that, which J have sayed in comparaison of that is ther? wherfore art thou so glued unto the earth, that thou doest not raise thy thoughts towards this ravishing Heaven? wherfore doest thou then be­low search and hunt after any consola­tion [Page 129]seeing that thou mayest finde all pleasures and felicities in Heaven? Why art thou so diligent and solicitous to he­ape up riches, which thou must leave sonn or late, and takest no care to ga­ther those treasures which will remaine with thee for all eternity? Wherfore sayest thou not from the bottome of thy Heart with St Augustine?

O beautifull and glorious Mansion of God. I love thy ornaments and the pleasures with which thou art repleni­shed: my Heart doth day and night sigh after thee: my Soul is in a trance with the sole remembrance of thy felicitie. O habitation most happy! O Kingdo­me truly fortunat, exempted from hun­ger, eloigned from all evils, wher the day is never followed with night, wher the seasons are never subject unto any alteration, wher reigneth unvariable e­ternity in its infinite happynes. O ad­mirable Paradise, and never sufficiently desired being, wher the faithfull Soul crowned with glorie, invironed with [Page 130]all sortes of contentement, sasiated with blessings, singes among the Angells the canticles of joy: God grant that puri­fied of all my crimes which doe conta­minate my Soul, I may be lodged in the meanest of thy appartements, for there to enjoy a solide peace, and a perfect felicity? for to converse with the Saints, and to contemplate the divine Face of my most deare and amiable Jesus, for to singe ther with the celestiall Cour­tiers the sweet consorts of the prayses of my good God, and to see for ever the sovereigne and infinit light. O Heaven! O Heavē that I might have thee alwayes present before my eyes, and engraved in my Heart: that I might have the ho­nor to be eternally one of thy inhabi­tants, O Heaven!

Deare Friend since I must make an end, and take my leave of thee: I doe rejoyce exceedingly, that I leave thee in so good a residence: God of his in­finit mercy grant, that thou and I may live so well, that after this life we may [Page 131]meete ther, for to be never separed: let us often pray thou for me, and I for thee, that this may be; and it will be without doubt, if we duely practice these four words. Thinke well on it.

IESUS, MARIE, IOSEPH.

Poterit imprimi

J. Gillemans L.C.G.

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