fragancy of his miracles Were the whole earth turn'd into an Arabia and it 's richest odours sublimed to a perfume were nature rifled of all it's sweets and it 's most ravishing vegetables crowded to a posy yet were they infinitly below the sweetnesse of this Rose Not that Centinel of nature the Marigold the early nymph of the goddess of the morne that rises from it's golden bed at the first appearance of its Lover not the Suns wooer the Heliotrope that strives to kiss and Circulate with that beaming Mover as if nature had flowerd the earth with Stars or made it's Coloured progeny idolaters of the Skie nor all those growing Prodigies that enamour both our eye and thoughts to admiration are not worthy to be Compared to this Heavenly Mirror the Rose Sharon O my Saviour I will run after the odour of thy perfumes and pant after those spirituall delights that stream from thy Throne Thou art infinitly amiable O imprint on my soul a purity that makes men capable of thy heavenly infusions the Divine irradiations of thy Grace and Love What is the Comelinesse of the Creatures but a drop of that transcendent excellency that is in thee O let it be my delight as it is my felicity to imitate the perfect innocency of thy life that through the sweetness of thy merits my Sacrifices may be found pleasing and that when this corruptible shall be changed and this mortall put on immortality I may receive the reward of the faithfull the inheritance of the just and be made partaker of everlasting Glory in thy presence for evermore Genes Chap. 28. v. 12. And he dreamed and behold a Ladder set upon the earth and the top of it reached unto heaven and behold the Angells of God ascending and descending on it NO sooner had Jacob made a stone his pillow such is the happiness of contented humility but a glorious Vision salutes his eye that obedience which brought him from his father on a journey to Syria became a nobler guide and shewed him the way to heaven those divine Travellers the Angels ascending and descending before him Happy solitude that met with such heavenly company the hardship of his lodging was abundantly recompenced by this blessed interview when the God of his father the Lord of all creatures appeared unto him reviving him with the gratious supports of his promises and providence When I look upon the posture of this happy sleeper I cannot chuse but wonder at the vanity of those that expect visions from heaven on their beds of down and look for revelations amidst their pleasures their tender spirits would grow fick and out of love with piety should it disturb or contradict their ease How quickly would their devotion catch cold should they with David get up at midnight to pray God drops not his miracles into the lap of the wanton nor communicates the riches of his glory but to those who are resigned to him John must be an Exile before he can be the Divine and have conference with none but Angels if he would be a fit Notary for heaven Those holy men that had no other company than solitude and their prayers could not have traffick'd so purely with heaven had they not disclaimed all commerce with the world and disroabing themselves of all secular interests obtained a nobler furniture of grace and became vessels of honour Jacob here had no other Canopy but the aire no other lights to his bed than the lamps of heaven and the Angels pass too and fro as it were a guard to secure him How securely doth he rest that leans on Providence and makes That the depository of his soul Repose thus blest becomes a Sanctuary nor need he fear to be disturbed in his sleep that makes God his keeper or that his pious night-thoughts shall have any other dreams than those of peace Jacob had no sooner closed his eyes but those holy Porters unlock the Heavens and invite him up but 't is by a ladder We cannot climb heaven in a moment the way to happiness is but by degrees and as our Saviour tells us 't is narrow too Every vertue is a step to eternity and he is so much nearer heaven that daily treads his vices under We cannot be too good proficients in a holy life or thinke that in the smallest acts of piety we have enough to carry us to happinesse 't is not a few steps but a constant progress that mounts us thither O how bad is he that thinks himselfe too good to be made better The Promises of thy Glory are infinite O Lord and yet how carelesly do we embrace them Thou hast shewen us the way unto thy Self and yet we are not only unwilling but even weary of walking to thee Alas Are the joyes of thy kingdome not worth the coming to can we think to climbe up unto thy Throne by a lame idle Devotion how nimbly do we pursue the vanities of the world but pretend a faintnesse in thy service We can run after the perishing concernments of this life but make little or no progresse in the race which Thou hast set before us Quicken us O Lord and make us more earnest and zealous in thy service and as thou hast sent thy son to bring us to thy Self do thou likewise send thy Spirit to sanctifie us for Thy self and then we who of our selves can scarce move unto thine Altar will by the assistance of thy Grace run the way of thy Commandements Proverbs 18. v. 14. But a Wounded Spirit who can beare NOt the purest temper not the vastest Bulke the world it self that hospitall of sinners cannot for it groanes and travailes it self to be delivered Heaven was no longer a place for those ambitious spirits who exchang'd their glory for those flames which torture them not so much as that infinite despaire which for ever secludes and sequesters them from it No wonder some think there is no other hell then this for its torments are not to be matcht Stakes or Gridirons are but flea-bites to this vulture tortures of the newest fashion are pleasant Martyrdoms easie paines compar'd to this Those dying miseries do but storme and affright sense whilst this living death this killing Life displayes its cruelties on a more heavenly object and striving to destroy and rifle an Immortall part makes death it selfe a gentle murtherer to it Skreeks of Owles that add blacknesse to the very night it selfe groanes of parting souls that fill the eare and room with trembling Epitaphs writt in characters mournful as the grave silence are harmonies to the dying Elegies of a wounded spirit that breathes nothing but bleeding Satyrs against it selfe See how with David it goes mourning all the day and all the night too surrounded with black and fatal Ideas and turnes his bed into a bath which those weeping springs his eyes have made and instead of bright and gentle aires breathes nothing but dark trembling accents which the buisy Divell
there where the same Jesus shall receive us with an Euge to his Glory Thou sentest thy Son O Lord to die for us that by beleeving in him wee might have life He under whom thou hast put all things was pleased to put himself under them and left his Throne to be Crucified for our soules that we might receive the Triumphs of his passion and be partakers of his Glory O let not those miseries of our natures which first invited thy mercy make us uncapable of it let not those that knew Thee not but by thy miracles be more zealous in their acknowledging thy goodnesse then we who by the manifestation of thy love plead an interest in thy blood But grant that we may live in a perpetuall Gratulation to thy merits who camest from the Bosome of thy Father to save our souls To this end do thou give unto us that faith without which it is impossible to please thee and with which thou givest every other grace teach us so to rely on thy mercy that we may not neglect the meanes or thinke that a Dead faith will carry us to that life which Thou hast promised to none but such as worke out their salvation with feare and trembling Iohn Chap. 20. v. 11 And she stopped downe and looked into the Sepulcher SEe how religiously Mary stoopes to behold her Saviour in his Toomb whilst her yonger Sisters that spend more time on their dresse then their devotion will scarce kneel to their praiers 'T was not an apparition of Angels in the shape of Ghosts nor the mournfull silence of a toomb where dwelt no other object then death cloathed all in horrour that could fright her from her contemplation See the power of Divine love that can even with pleasure looke that in the face whose very aspect onely strikes the world to palenesse and stand not onely at its doore but enter into its chamber to meet heaven and without feare in the sad and solitatry vault repose it self among the bones and carkases of the Dead and make a Coffin its pillow till the morne Thus the martyrs triumph'd in their flames and were charioted up in raptures by fire as if the greedie element had warm'd them only How nobly did they meet death and sang Anthems to the musick of their Chaines as if they had been rather Priests then sacrifices in that cruel solemnity How sweetly did Stephen close his eyes after he had seen Jesus and heaven opened and then cheerefully expired under an heape of stones a monument richer than the proudest marble having with his owne blood writ himselfe this Epitaph the best of any I am the first Martyr Thus the Saints made their torments their pleasure and turned death with all its terrours into a scene of mirth 'T was not the rage of Tyrants nor the fury of the most ingenious kinds of torture that could force them from the love of Jesus He that loves his Saviour will with Mary not only stoop but step into a Toomb and passionately embrace even a Coffin for his sake he will looke on death but as the Messenger of his Glory the Harbinger of his happinesse and therefore with St. Paul all in raptures all in flames beg a dissolution whilst his soul full of nothing but approaching heaven is all in extasies transported thither How hardly can we be perswaded O Lord to forsake the vanishing pleasures of this life for thy glory and our owne happinesse How unwillingly should we lay downe our lives for thy sake or the Gospells that can so hardly part with one sin in obedience to thy Law Thy yoake is easy and thy service a perfect freedome and yet we count thy sanctuary a prison thy law a trouble and can scarce sacrifice so much time to our devotions as to pay unto Thee the honour due unto thy name Pardon and pity this Corruption of our frames and teach us whether we live or die to delight in that for which thou mad'st us even to glorifie Thee that so whensoever this earthly tabernacle shall be dissolved we may receive our change with joy and be carried by Angells to an everlasting inheritance Joh. Chap. 11. v. 25. Jesus wept O Who can hear this and not dissolve all in pious showrs Can the most most frozen eye read this and not thaw its selfe all in streames He that hath not so much piety as to weep for himself or his sins yet let him have so much humanity as to accompany his Saviour's teares And yet see how the marble Jewes instead of seconding censure his greife with a Could not he that restored the eyes of the Blind have kept Lazarus's open No wounder they would not be mourners with him who were to be murderers of him and be but little sensible or compassionate of his teares whose cruelty was scarce satisfied with dearer drops when his whole body became an eye that wept blood And yet Divinest Saviour how many are there that beare thy title but indeed are Jewes that pretend to wear the livery of thy name but blot out the golden characters of thy cross How coldly must they needs be affected with thy teares that are scarce sensible of thy sufferings and be but carelesse of thy life who are so forgetfull of thy death O Mary how richly are thy teares now required those eyes that became moving baths for thy Saviour's feet did sure now run over to see His brim-full and distill drops whose very inbalming revived thy Brother O Lazarus didst thou but know thy glory thou wouldst dye still to be so lamented and willingly be buried in thy grave again to be so honorably bedewed No question when thou wert a spectator of his sufferings but thou didst exceed the women in their teares and sacrifice thy Eyes in showers to thy divine Restorer This was indeed the grearest funerall that ever the world saw or is like to see for the Lord himselfe was a Mourner here Divinest Saviour thou wept'st so those that could not and for many that would not weep for themselves and wouldst not denie thy tears who pouredst out thy life thou art so in initly good thou desirest but unfained sorrow for sin to excuse the gilt thereof and yet so farre are we such is our misery from accompanying thy teares that we can scarce weep for our owne sins O teach us in a pious gratitude to do something for thy sake who hast done so much for ours that as thou hast glorified thy selfe by our redemption wee may also glorifie thee by a constant thanksgiving and may no more sell ourselves to sin that have been so dearly bought for heaven and the joys of thy kingdome John 12. v. 2. But Lazarus was one of those that sate at the table with him CAn the dead eate then was not Lazarus but new wound up in his grave and is he set at meale Is his toombe turn'd into a table and does he wipe his hands in the napkin that bound up his
head He that was ready to have feasted wormes now feasts himselfe and is risen from his dead companions a guest amongst rhe living We read indeed of some that all pale and liveless were stretcht out for a coffin but reviv'd again when that little spark of life that lay glimmering in the expiring embers in a corner of the panting heart recovered its flames But here death and Lazarus had imbrac't too closely to be so parted His soul had likely taken its flight before and his body lay so long in his mothers armes 't was just dissolving into its principles againe and behold him now above ground as if but newly risen from his bed all fresh with life and vigour he hath changed his chamber and from the lower regions of the other world is returnd to his old lodgings where he is now at supper throng'd with multitudes of people that come not for almes but to be spectators of this wonder Had the end of the world been then or a resurrection of others for company Lazarus at his arrivall to the world againe might well have phansied with his countrymen that the second life should be on earth and heaven kept in pleasures here No Lazarus though now alive thou must dye againe to live for ever nor must thy revivall now con ummate thine but manifest Gods glory though it be thine too above expression to have been thus the subject of it Thou needst not feare to dye againe having done it once nor doubt but that hee who raised thee now will do it hereafter too Didst thou ever thinke to have injoyed this world againe or to have been freed from thy imprisonment till the great and generall delivery 'T was beyond thy Sister's faith till she saw it and now having had two lives if thou spentest the former on thy selfe or the world thou didst wholly sacrifice the latter to thy divine Restorer How many expiring soules all frighted with the horror of their crimes could they but have their span a little lengthned or after an age's durance in their graves but revive a litle before their doome how gladly would they turne their songs of pleasure into penitentiall anthems their profane notes into diviner ayres and tune out their lives in pious straines But alasse he that cannot imploy this life well in vaine expects to do it in another which he is not worthy of might it be obtained He whose piety here hath reacht him a taste of heaven a glimpse of happinesse will be so little in love with the vanities of this world that instead of desiring a longer or another life here he will be but ambitious of leaving This. It was by thy power O Lord That Lazarus carried out to his grave should returne alive That Mournefull expression thy friend is dead drew thee to the discovery of thy love and power in his resurrection O let there be the same concurrence of thy Grace and spiit to the raising and reforming of my soul to a new and holy life it was the misery of expiring man that drew thee from the bosome of thy Father to redeem him O let the Scepter of thy word and truth be as powerfull in its heavenly influence upon my soul as the Prophet's staffe that reviv'd the dead that so dying daily I may live for ever and being pâ—epared for my death may enter into that life from which nothing but sin can exclude me Joh. Chap. 13. v. 23. Now there was leaning on Jesus bosome one of his Disciples whom he loved SEe how sweetly is the Disciple Couch't how boldly doth he make his Master's breast his pillow loading him with a double burden his sins and himselfe Blest familiarity Would not Kings leave their thrones to have been in his room and ambitiously forsake their Golden Canopies for suâ—h a teposure Here might the vastest ambition both seat and satiate it selfe without aspiring higher the greatest Avarice might here have found a treasure beyond which it could not cover What Lover would not scorne the lap of the most admired female for such an enjoyment and become a Diviner Amorist Was not this Disciple above the rest If this be not a precedency what is a dignity which none besides himselfe succeeded in Happy Favorite Who would not have trampled Crownes and Scepters for such preferment Had Mary in whose bosome once Love's Cradle so many wantons lull'd themselves that turn'd her eyes into Living Mineralls and her haire into a towell of the newest fashion been graced with such a priviledge not her eyes onely but the noblest rivolets of her blood would have overflowne all transported out in gratefull streames How pleasingly doth the Disciple lay his eare to that Heart which was the life of the world as if he would count its motions and by its Divine pulse be rockt asleep in raptures Behold O my soul and see in the posture of this happy man the Emblem of thy owne felicity the place of thy reception and future Glory Art thou ambitious of it here then behold him on his Crosse with his armes extended to receive thee O run and rowle thy selfe on that Breast the fear of Love wherein lies all the treasures of thy happinesse Thou hast a priviledge even beyond the Disciple for thou mayst not only leane and depend but embrace him too Incircle him now then with the choisest endeerments of thy soule the most passionate raptures of a Lively faith and so the same Jesus that permitted the Disciple here to lean on his breast will receive thee likewise in his arms hereafter and place thee for ever in the bosome of his Glory Math. Chap. 16. v. 26. For what is a man profited if he shall gaine the whole world and lose his owne soul ANd yet men had rather lose their souls than the world He for whom the world was made makes himselfe for the world disappointing himselfe of all his Glory and by a more then brutish transmutation buries the Divinity of his soul all in earth Heare this then ye Inhabitants of the world yee that fowle all in sense and climb no higher then the elements for Heaven that can pawne your souls for a fading pleasure and count a delightfull misery your felicity Hear this thou aspiring Vapour whose ambition elevates thee to consume thy selfe thou that wilt worship Satan for a Kingdome and do him homage for a Crowne paying him a revenue worth a thousand worlds the immortall tribute of a soul till thy triumphs be turned to torments thy revellings of honour into regrets of horrour and thy Chaire of state into a bed of flames Heare this thou Sensualist whose soul is as unconfined as Brutes that pantest for pleasure more then ever the Camaelion did after aire thou that wadest all in sin and overwhelmest Morality in floods of vice bathing thy selfe in those wanton streames that drown thee that countest religion but a fable the lives of Saints a melancholly Romance and laughest at heaven as if eternity were but a
hath the world learnt his lesson How do the Catholicke Pharises pride themselves in a supererogatory devotion and thinke to climbe heaven by a ladder of their owne making glorying in a superabundant piety and triumphing in a meritorious excesse of dooing even more then they need How nimbly do our Trembling Enthusiasts too follow their leaders steps here in a sanctimonious pride by a supercilious purity presuming to reforme the world and new modell it againe That saint themselves Stylo novo and with the Pharisee not onely thanke but tell God plainly they are not as other men That raylingly proclaime themselves the great light of the world and in a pious Lunacy would new gospell it againe extravagantly proscribing all religions but their own These melancholy Pretenders seclude themselves from others and by a sullen devotion are become so strangely divine that they have almost lost their humanity So that if the Pharisee was not as other men yet these are as like the Pharisee as may be having so exactly learnt both his nature and religion So naturall is it for us O Lord to be deluded even in our best Performances and whilst we vainly thinke our selves not onely better then others but good enough in Thy Sight to be carried into presumption 'T is humility crownes all our Graces and puts a Beauty on our requests whilst the confidence of our owne merits does not onely deforme but seclude us from thee Teach us therefore with such gratitude to use thy gifts that we become not forgetfull of our selves or Thee Whilst others Pride themselves in a meritorious supererogation let us indeavour humbly to confesse and bewaile our imperfections Let not a spirituall Pride seise upon our souls so shall we be innocent from the Great Transgression Romans Chap. 6. v. 21. For the end of those things is death WHo then would propose that for his happinesse which shall perish with himself whose end is not only death but hell and will destroy him not onely now but hereafter too Indeed were there no hope that our remains should revive again or the ruins of our frame rise up to a finer shape we might well drown our selves in enjoyments heere and fixe our felicity in pleasures Every man might then without sin become an Epicure and he that could invent new fashions of luxury would not only be more ingenious but more fortunate too Morality would be all vice yet vice it self no more a crime but our felicity not to be extravagant then were a sin against nature he that is most Brutish would be most Rational Law would then become an enemie to Humanity there could be no society but in confusion and in spight of policy were there no heaven no hell we should pleasantly mingle to a chaos and obey no other discipline then that of riot Every one might then turne Atheist without scandall to be without God in the world would be no misfortune every man might be his own without blasphemy Could they that live dye like Brutes too and revive no more the comfort of not being damned would be greater then the sweets of sin But alas he that dies now must live againe that his life may be rememberd nor yet is it somuch the feare of Death as the horrours of a guilty conscence the terrible presages of a future eternity that scares the departing soul The pangs of expiring nature are nothing to those stings the memory of our crimes bring with them The sorrowes of the Grave and our being here no more for ever are joyes to the miseries that are to come Tell me thou that hug'st the world then and gropest for paradise in a grove of sins thou that makest earth thy treasure and wrap'st up the riches of thy hopes in time's bosome or the enclosure of a span when those bright and nimble guides of life thy eyes shall grow weak with age or weary with paine when every limbe shall become an object of sorrow and those parts that were so officiously employed in sin shall become instruments of despaire When that delicious frame that darling edifice thy Body shall by its tottering qualmes and trembling convulsions affrighten its disconsolate owner how will the flashes of a future justice and the terrours of thy end confound thee Can those enjoyments that flattered away thy soul restore it now can those pleasures that stole heaven from thee recover it again can thy vanities asswage thy sorrowes or the memory of thy sins the misery of thy end Where 's that musick whose aires like Davids harpe might charme the cries of conscience and by its straines drop a harmony that might still the trouble of thy anguisht soul Where are those trophies thy ambition purchased at the easy rate as onely sinning for that Honour for which thou hast sold heaven that soveraignty for which thou becamst a slave thy selfe and lost the freedome of thy soul Cannot all thy Greatnesse raise thee up a litle and by a power once so much feared and applauded reprieve thee from the grave or a more eternall prison Where are those treasures thou soldest thy best inheritance for whose ravishing splendours took away thy sight and made thee blinder then themselves Can they neither bribe nor buy thy pardon or will the grave know no other fee then so rich a misery Where are all those diversions that robb'd thee of thy piety and the thoughts of thy Maker those pleasing vanities that took away all sense of heaven and foresight of thy end Are all vanisht to a toomb and an unwelcome period are all thy jollities terminated in a Coffin and no other object left to keep thee company but thy Crimes and those terrours thy guilt presents Behold now then ye Lovers of the world more then of God and see the picture of your end those ruines you have so smoothly built on Try if all your imaginary felicities are proofe against this shaft or can secure you from this intruder the single Conquerour of the world whose very prison is but a reserve for a worse and its execution here but a repriefe for a more lasting and yet living death He that liv'd in pleasures must live in flames and having revell'd it in sin riot it in tortures and the misery is that wishing not to live he can never die And yet how vaine are our desires still after the world O Lord how soon how smoothly are we led by the false and transitory pleasures of this life from Thee The wages of sin is death and yet how foolishly do we preferre its service before thine whose reward is life The end of prophaness is eternall ruine and the pleasures of impiety period in confusion and yet we sadly embrace the proffers of sin before the promises of thy glory Pitty O Lord the frailties of our natures and forgive the irregularities of our lives fill us with noble desires after Thee that the vanities of the world may be our scorne and thy Glory onely our Ambition
that we may not for a present enjoyment in this life lose the hopes and inheritance of a better Luke Chap. 15. v. 10. There is joy in the presence of the Angells of God over one sinner that repenteth SO great are the Concernments of an immortall Soul that it's recovery from the world sets heaven in a triumph and it 's return to it's Maker is welcom'd back in Quires the angells sing his recantation and rejoyce as if they themselves were made happier by his conversion And yet is not the joy of Angells greater then that of the soul it selfe when it hath found and regain'd it's Maker its sighs are turnd into songs and it's teares to raptures each drop is not onely counted and kept up but turn'd into a streame of joy His sorrowes are turnd to consolation his troubles into peace and the stormes of conscience into calmes of love Such are the fruits of a holy penitence the happinesse of a religious contrition He that went mourning all the day and turned Anchoret for greif whose life was a torment and the grave his feare that desired not to live and yet was afraid to die is now transformed into sweeter passions and breathes nothing but the praises of his Deliverer See with what indignation he lookes upon the world whose embraces had so long imprisoned him to whose false allurements he had been so much a servant Those pleasant trifles he once admired are now his contempt and those shadowes of felicity he once so much pursued he hath now exchanged for more celestiall enjoyments and enduring pleasures And indeed Who that hath once truly tasted heaven can well rellish the world againe whose choisest feasts are worse then an Egyptian diet to this Manna and its largest roade of pleasure but a precipice to that way whose narrowest path carries freedome and felicity He that hath once found the goodnesse of his Maker and those joyes that flow from his service will sacrifice himselfe in pious resolves and grieving that he was so long a stranger to his law all transported beg both pardon and support Tell me who can character the pleasures of this new birth the joyes of a converted soul restored to heaven and his maker He that feels it can expresse it but in raptures and silent signes the ecchoes of his heart Even the Angells here can sing it onely not describe it and in Seraphick consorts give us notice not a copy of it Thus the heavens become harmonious the frame of nature that groaned under the disorder of mans sin is againe revived and set in tune by pardon And no wonder if the creation feel a silent musicke in it's limbs when the Lord our Maker is not onely the Author but a partner in this triumph proclaming even his delight in such happy renovations and that he is best pleased when sinners flie to the refuges of his mercy and humbly beg the riches of that Grace and favour which he onely can give and which he never refuses to them that seek him So infinitely good art thou O Lord that thou dost not onely invite but bring us to thy self and not onely call but cause us to returne We know thou desirest not the the death of a sinner having so freely sacrificed thy Son for sin and that thou delightest in pardoning it for thou hast proclaimed thy self so Though thou didst not spare thine Angells when they fell yet in the riches of thy mercy thou hast contrived a Redemption for our souls even by the blood of Jesus Fill us with perpetuall adorations of thy love that thy goodnesse which is so ready to pardon sin may encourage us to beg it and to continue constant waiters on thee in thy worship here till we are made companions of those blest spirits hereafter that rejoyce in the recovery and salvation of a sinner Matth. c. 6. v. 33. But seeke yee first the Kingdome of God and his Righteousnesse and all these things shall be added unto you AND He that loved his Saviour would no Question do it but alass that which ought to be the first is scarce the last of our thoughts the least and worst of our performances Such Lovers are wee of Heaven that we think it no sinne to serve our selves first and make our Creatour waite the leisure of our Devotion Miserable Creatures whose Religion reaches no higher then their bodyes for whose very Superfluities wee study to provide whilst our Brighter part lyes all naked and unthought of Such Strangers are we even to our own Soules so insensible of the joyes to come that we looke no higher then the World and in sphearing all our hopes within Mortality as if we had nothing durable beyond our breath suffer Eternity to be forgotten Wee cannot live without our Maker and yet how do our lives neglect Him how eager how ambitious after an enjoyment heere but carry not the smallest passion for his Glory The jollities of the World swallow up all thoughts of Heaven and in the pleasures of sense we can drown Immortality What is that we sacrifice our selves to but the hopes of a felicity The very Pagans rather then want a Blisse would fancy one in lovely shades and place the triumphs of immortality in those amorous walkes their Ghosts should revell in And who can hope for Heaven that neglects it or expect the joyes of this Kingdome that looks not after it Without Holynesse no man shall see God and he cannot be Master of much Sanctity that prophanely loses himselfe in sinne and is a Stranger to that piety which can truly Enrich Him beyond all the treasures of the most splendid and fortunate transgression How miserable are they then whose pleasures onely divert them from their Maker and have no other Apologie for their neglect of Heaven than what sinne can make that Court the World and for a fading embrace exchange a Diadem of Blisse a Crown of Life Were the whole World turn d into a Seraglio of delight and every region to an Arabia could every field become a Paradise and every object we meet bring a Magazine of pleasure with it had we all the enjoyments this Life can triumph in yet we should quickly finde them without God but miserable fruitions Is there any thing dearer then our lives and yet even these are of no valew in respect of a better the very exigencies of Nature are trifles to the concernments of our Soules It is better to starve then dye for ever and lose God 't is better to goe naked then not to be cloathed with immortality 't is better we should want heere then hereafter that fullnesse which knows none And yet How many are there that had rather lose Heaven then the World pawn their Consciences sooner then want and for a fortune sell away their very Christianity How many make sinne their study and thinke it a credit to invent new methods of impiety and are such carefull providers for Eternity that they will be