and unseemly noise for a little while, but it was presently gone, and will return no more. They scorned to entertain any saddening thoughts: the talk of death and judgment was irksome to them, because it damped their mirth: they could not endure to think of their sin or danger, because these thoughts did sad their spirits. They knew not what it was to weep for sin, or to humble themselves under the mighty hand of God. They could laugh away sorrow, and sing away cares, and drive away these melancholy thoughts. They thought, if they should live so austerely, and meditate, and pray, and mourn, as the godly do, their lives would be a continual misery, and it were enough to make them run mad. Alas, poor souls! what a misery then will that life be, where you shall have nothing but sorrow; intense, heart-piercing, multiplied sorrow; when you shall have neither the joys of the saints, nor your own former joys! Do you think there is one merry heart in hell; or one joyful countenance, or jesting tongue? You cry now, A little mirth is worth a great deal of sorrow; but surely a little godly sorrow, which would have ended in eternal joy, had been more worth than a great deal of your foolish mirth, which will end in sorrow. Can men of gravity run laughing and playing in the streets as little children do; or wise men laugh at a mischief as fools and madmen; or men, that are sound in their brain, fall a dancing, as they will do in a viti saltus, till they fall down dead with it? No more pleasure have wise men in your pitiful mirth: for the end of such mirth is sorrow.

Sect. VI. Fifthly: Another additional loss will be this, They shall lose all their sensual contentments and delights. That which they esteemed their chiefest good, their heaven, their God, that must they lose, as well as heaven and God himself. They shall then, in despite of them, fulfil that command, which

a The dead skull of a king retains not so much as a print of the crown; the guilty soul may the spots of sin. As the bold bishop told the great emperor, taking hold of his purple robe, 'Sir, you shall not carry this hence with you.' -Dr. Stoughton Magis. Commis. p. 32. Tunc edax flamma comburit quos nunc carnalis delectatio polluit; tunc infinitum patens inferni barathrum devorat, quos inanis elatio nunc exaltat; et qui olim ex vitio voluntatem callidi persuasoris expleverunt, tunc cum duce suo reprobo ad tormenta pervenient.— Greg. Moral. 9. Quid enim consolatur eos, qui suam habent consolationem? Non consolatur Christi infantia garrulos; non consolantur Christi lachrymæ cachinnantes; non consolantur panni ejus ambulantes in stolis; non consolantur præsepe et stabulum amantes primas cathedras in synagogis; sed æquanimiter forte universam hanc consolationem expectantibus in silentio Dominum lugentibus, pannosis pauperibus credere videbuntur.—Bern, Serm. 22.

here they would not be persuaded to obey, of " making no provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof." (Rom. xiii. 14.) Oh, what a fall will the proud, ambitious man have from the top of his honours! As his dust and bones will not be known from the dust and bones of the poorest beggars, so neither will his soul be honoured or favoured any more than theirs. What a number of the great, noble, and learned, are now shut out of the presence of Christ! If you say, 'How can I tell that?' why, I answer, because their Judge hath told me so. Hath he not said by his apostle," that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called?" (1 Cor. i. 26.) And if they be not called, they be not predestinate, or justified, or glorified. (Rom. viii. 30.) Surely that rich man (Luke xvi.) hath now no humble obeisance done him, nor titles of honour put upon him; nor do the poor now wait at his gates to receive of his scraps. They must be shut out of their well-contrived houses, and sumptuous buildings, their comely chambers, with costly hangings; their soft beds, and easy couches. They shall not find their gallant walks, their curious gardens, with a variety of beauteous, odoriferous fruits and flowers; their rich pastures, and pleasant meadows, and plenteous harvest, and flocks and herds. Their tables will not be so spread and furnished, nor they so punctually attended and observed. They have not there variety of dainty fare, nor several courses, nor tempting dishes prepared to please their appetites to the full. The rich man there fareth not deliciously every day, neither shall he wear there his purple and fine linen. The jetting, gorgeous, welldressed gallant, that must not have a pin amiss, that stands as a picture set to sale, that take themselves more beholden to the tailor or sempster for their comeliness, than to God; they shall then be quite in a different garb. There is no powdering or curling of their hair, nor eyeing of themselves, nor desirous expecting the admiration of beholders. Surely, our voluptuous

* Defectus à summo bono ad infimum bonum, hoc est, peccatoris proprium et voluntarium malum, quo malo seipsum perdit injustus. Et quia huic malo author non est Deus, sed homo perversus, digne itaque homini qui se perdidit peccato, redditur in tormentis æterna perditio, ut pereat quidem qui perire voluit, non tamen sic percat quemadmodum voluit. Qui enim sic peribit, delectatione peccatorum illectus, ut si posset fieri, maneret in opere peccati perpetuus; juste quidem est in perditione peccati dimissus quo propria cecidit voluntate-Fulgent. ad Monim. lib. i. c. 19. A voluptate occupatus, quomodo resistet labori ac periculo, egestati et tot humanam vitam circumstrepentibus minis? Quomodo conspectum mortis? Quomodo dolores feret? Quomodo mundi fragores, et tantum acerrimorum hostium, à tam molli adversario victus. Quicquid voluptas suaserit, faciet, Age, non vides quam multa suasura sit.Sen, de l'it. Beat.c.11.

youths must leave their cards and dice behind them, as also their hawks, and hounds, and bowls, and all their former pleasant sports: they shall then spend their time in a more sad employment, and not in such pastimes as these. Where will then be your May-games, and your morrice-dancers; your stage. plays, and your shows what mirth will you have in remembering all the games, and sports, and dancings, which you had on the Lord's-days, when you should have been delighting yourselves in God and his work? Oh, what an alteration will our jovial, roaring swaggerers then find: what bitter draughts will they have instead of their wine and ale! If there were any drinking of healths, the rich man would not have begged so hard for a drop of water: the heat of their lust will be then abated; they shall not spend their time in courting their mistresses, in lascivious discourse, in amorous songs, in wanton dalliance, in their lustful embracements, or brutish defilements; yet they are likely enough to have each other's company there : but they will have no more comfort in that company, than Zimri and Cosbi in dying together; or than lewd companions have, in' being hanged together on the same gallows. Oh, the doleful meeting that these lustful wantons will have there! how it will even cut them to the heart, to look each other in the face, and to remember that beastly pleasure, for which they now must pay so dear! so will it be with the fellowship of drunkards, and all others that were playfellows together in sin, who got not their pardon in the time of their lives. What direful greeting will there then be, cursing the day that ever they saw the faces of one another; remembering and ripping up all their lewdness, to the aggravation of their torment! Oh, that sinners would remember this in the midst of their pleasure and joll ty, and say to one another, 'We must shortly reckon for this before the jealous God.' Will the remembrance of it then be comfortable or terrible; will these delights accompany us to another world: how shall we look each other in the face, if we meet in hell together for these things; will not the memorial of them be then our torment: shall we then take these for friendly actions, or rather wish we had spent this time in praying together, or admonishing one another? Oh, why should we sell such a lasting, incomprehensible joy, for one taste of seeming pleasure! Come, as we have sinned together, let us pray together before we stir, that God would pardon us; and let us enter into a promise to one another, that we will do thus no more, but will meet together with the godly in the worship of God, and help

one another towards heaven, as often as we have met for our sinful merriments, in helping to deceive and destroy each other.' This would be the way to prevent this sorrow, and a course that would comfort you, when you look back upon it hereafter. Who would spend so many days," and years, and thoughts, and cares, and be at so much cost and pains, and all to please this flesh for a moment, which must shortly be most loathsome, stinking rottenness; and in the meantime neglect our precious souls, and that state which we must trust to for ever and ever? To be at such pains for that pleasure which dies in the enjoying, and is almost as soon gone as come; and when we have most need of comfort, will be so far from following us as our happiness, that it will be perpetual fuel to the flames which shall torment us! Oh, that men knew but what they desire, when they would so fain have all things suited to the desires of the flesh! They would have buildings, walks, lands, clothes, diet, and all so fitted as may be most pleasing and delightful. Why, this is but to desire their temptations to be increased, and their snare strengthened: their joys will be more carnal; and how great an enemy carnal joy is to spiritual, experienced men can quickly tell you. If we took the flesh so much for our enemy as we do profess, we could not so earnestly desire and contrive to accommodate it, and so congratulate all its contentments as we do.

CHAP. IV.

The Greatness of the Torments of the Damned Discovered.

SECT. I. Having thus showed you how great their loss is, who are shut out of rest, and how it will be aggravated by those additional losses which will accompany it, I should next here show you the greatness of those positive sufferings which will accompany this loss. But because I am to treat of rest, rather than of torment, I will not meddle with the explication of the quality of those sufferings, but only show their greatness in some few brief discoveries, lest the careless sinner, while he hears of no

* Quid mihi voluptatem nominas? Hominis bonum quæro, non ventris, qui pecudibus et belluis laxior est.-Senec. de Vit. Beat. c. 9. Most certain it is that virtue hath not a more capital enemy than such a perpetual success as they call most happy, which, to join together with honesty, is no less difficulty than to combine things by nature most contrary.-Bodin. Commonwealth, lib. i. p. 1.

other punishment but that of loss before mentioned, should think he can bear that well enough by his own resolvedness, and so flatter himself in hope of a tolerable hell. That there are, besides the loss of happiness, such actual, sensible torments for the damned, is a matter beyond all doubt to him that doth not doubt the truth of the Scriptures; and that they will be exceeding great, may appear by these arguments following.

First: From the principal Author of them, which is God himself as it was no less than God whom the sinner had offended, so it is no less than God that will punish them for their offences. He hath prepared those torments for his enemies. His continued anger will still be devouring them. His breath of indignation will kindle the flames. His wrath will be an intolerable burden to their souls. Oh, if it were but a creature that they had to do with, they might bear it, for the penalty would be answerable to the infirmity of him that should inflict it. A child can give but an easy stroke, but the strokes of a giant will be answerable to his strength. Wo to him that falls under the stroke of the Almighty! They shall feel to their sorrow, that it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. It were nothing in comparison to this, if all the world were against them, or if the strength of all creatures were united in one to inflict their penalty. They had now rather venture upon the displeasure of God, than to displease a landlord, a master, a friend, a neighbour, or their own flesh but then they will wish a thousand times in vain, that they had lost the favour of all the world, and had been hated of all men, so they had not lost the favour of God; for, as there is no life like his favour, so is there no death like his displeasure. Oh, what a consuming fire is his wrath! If it be kindled here, and that but a little, how do we wither before it, as the grass that is cut down before the sun! How soon doth our strength decay, and

* Yet I know what Gibieuf saith, and many schoolmen, that God is not causa mali, (etiam pœnæ,) quâ malum. And Irenæus speaks as if he thought it were a natural consequent of their own wilfulness, and not properly effected by God. And, indeed, if it be true that "malum sensus" as well as "malum damni est formaliter privatio boni, &c. tunc causam efficientem per se non habet Deum; qui ergo per apostasiam amiserunt quæ prædicta sunt, quippe desolati ab omnibus bonis, in omni pœna conversantur; Deo quidem principaliter non à seipso eos puniente; prosequente autem eos pœna, quoniam sunt desolati ab omni bono. Ut in immenso lumine, qui excæcaveruut seipsos, vel ab aliis excæcati sunt, semper privati sunt jucunditate luminis. Non quod lumen pœnam eis inferat cœcitatis; sed quod ipsa cœcitas superinducat eis calamitatem.—Iren. adv. Hæres, lib. v. c. 27.