Oh, then, gather heart to thyself, from the merits, from the mercies of thine All-sufficient Redeemer, against all thy sinfulness: for, who is it, that shall be once thy Judge? before what tribunal shalt thou appear, to receive thy sentence? Is it not thy Saviour, that sits there? He, that died for thee, that he might rescue thee from death; shall he, can he doom thee to that death, from which he came to save thee? Comfort thyself then with these words: and, if thou wouldest keep thy soul in an equal temper, as thou hast two eyes, fix the one of them upon God's justice, to keep thee low and humble, and to quit thee from presumption; fix the other upon his transcendent mercy, to keep thee from the depth of sorrow and desperation.

SECT. II.

Of the moderation of the passion of Fear.- The dangerous Effects of that passion; particularly of the Fear of Death.

-Strong Motices for the Remedy of it.

SORROW is for present and felt evils; FEAR is only of evils future: a passion so afflictive, that even the expectation of a doubtful mischief that may come, is more grievous to us sometimes, than the sense of that mischief, when it is come. That, which Torquemade reports of a Spanish lord in his knowledge, I could second with examples at home; of some, who have been thought otherwise valiant, yet, if they had been but locked up in a chamber, would either break the doors, or offer to leap out of the windows; yet not knowing of any danger imminent. And if, in an imaginary or possible evil, fear have these effects, what shall we expect from it, in those, which are real and certain?

It is marvellous and scarce credible, which both histories and eyes can witness in this kind. James Osorius, a young gentleman of Spain, born of a noble family, one of the courtiers of Charles the Fifth, being, upon occasion of a wicked design of lust to an honourable lady, imprisoned, with an intent of his execution the next day, was suddenly so changed with the fear of the arrest of death, that, in the morning, when he was brought forth, none of the beholders knew him: his hair was turned so white, as if he had been fourscore years old: upon sight whereof, the emperor pardoned him; as having been enough punished with the fear of that, which he should have suffered. Levinus Lemnius, a late philosopher, in whom my younger age took much delight, recounts the story; and discourses probably, upon the natural reasons of

P Anth. Torquemade 3. Journee.--Sim. Goulart Hist. Memorab. 9 Levin. Lemnius de Miraculiex.

this alteration. The like report is made by Julius Scaliger, of a kinsman of Franciscus Gonzaga, in his time imprisoned upon suspicion of treason; who, with the fear of torture and death, was in one night's space thus changed'. And Coelius Rodiginus tells us of a falconer, who, climbing up to a rocky hill for a hawk's nest, was, with the breaking of a rope wherewith he was raised, so affrighted, that instantly his hair turned. What need we more instances? Myself have seen one, to whom the same accident was said to have befallen; though now the colour were, upon the fall of that weak fleece, altered. What speak we of this? Death itself hath followed sometimes, upon this very fear of death: so as some have died, lest they should die. Montague gives us an instance of a gentleman, at the siege of St. Paul, who fell down stark dead, in the breach; without any touch of stroke, save what his own heart gave him. Yea, how have we known some, that have died out of the fear of that, whereof they might have died, and yet have escaped? A passenger rideth, by night, over the narrow plank of a high and broken bridge; and, in the morning, dies to see the horror of that fall he might have had. There is no evil, whether true or fancied, but may be the subject of fear. There may be a Pisander so timorous, that he is afraid to see his own breath: and our Florilegus' tells us of a Lewis, king of France, so afraid of the sea, that he said it was more than a human matter to cross the water; and durst not pass betwixt Dover and Whitsands, till he had implored the aid of St. Thomas of Canterbury.

But all these fears have a relation to that utmost of all terribles; and, if other evils, as displeasure, shame, pain, danger, sickness, be the usual subjects of fear also, yet Death is the King of Fear. I am of the mind of Lucretius", therefore, although to a better purpose, that if a man would see better days, he must free his heart from that slavish fear of death, wherewith it is commonly molested. In what a miserable servitude are those men, whereof Erasmus speaketh to his Grunnius, who so abhor the thought of death, that they cannot abide the smell of frankincense, because it is wont to be used at funerals! they, who are ready to swoon at the sight of a coffin; and, if they could otherwise choose, could be content not to lie in a sheet, because it recalls the thought of that, wherein they shall be once wrapped! It concerns a wise man, to obdure himself against these weak fears; and to resolve to meet death boldly,

Citat. à Simone Goulart. Histoire Memorab.

* Suidas.

Florilegus An. 1589.

Inprimis timor est Acherontis agendus,

Funditus humanum qui vitam turbat ab imo. LUCRet.

* Ea gens ita mortem horret, ut ad thuris odorem efferentur, quod in funeribus solet accendi. Erasm. Epist. Grunnio.

in the teeth. Nothing is more remarkable, in all the passages of our Blessed Saviour, than that which St. Luke records of him, that when he was to go up, his last, to Jerusalem, where he must die, ἐστήριξε πρόσωπον, he stedfastly set his face to that fatal journey; Luke ix. 51. The word implies a resolution of courage against some evil to be conflicted with. Maldonate would have the metaphor fetched from the custom of bulls; who, when they must fight, are wont to fetch up a kind of sprightly terror into their countenance: at least, it imports a firm purpose of an undaunted spirit to grapple with some fore-expected evil: thus must we learn to do against our last

enemy.

Tell me then, thou weak man, thou fearest death will it not come, if thou fear it not? will it come the later, for thy fear? Is not thy life thus made miserable, before it come? Is not this the condition, upon which thou receivedst life, to part with it, when it should be called for? Art thou discontent at thy being? Dost thou murmur, that thou art a man, because therein thou art mortal? Doth any thing befall thee different from the best, and all of thy kind? Look back upon all that have been before thee, where are those innumerable numbers of men, which peopled the earth but in the last century of years? See whether the great monarchs of the world speed any otherwise: and couldest thou expect less, upon the many and sensible warnings of thy mortality? What language have thy sicknesses and decays of nature spoken to thee, but this, of a true harbinger's, "Death is coming?" And how well shouldest thou be pleased with his approach! Say, that thou were sentenced to live some hundreds of years, with thine infirmities to boot, what a burden wouldest thou be to thyself! How more discontented wouldest thou be, that thou mightest not die! Why art thou not as well displeased, that thou must be old? And when wouldst thou part, that thou mightest avoid it? Thou fearest death: how many heathens have undergone it, with courage! Shall I see a bold Roman, spurring his horse, to leap down into a dreadful gulf, for the benefit of those, from whom he cannot receive thanks? Shall I see a Cleombrotus, casting himself resolutely from the rock, to enjoy that separate life of the soul, which Plato discoursed of? Shall I hear a Canius, of whom Seneca speaks, jeering his tyrant and his death together; and more regarding the victory of his game, than the loss of his life? Shall I hear of some Indian wives, that affect and glory to cast themselves into the fire with the carcases of their dead husbands? Shall I see Turks filling up ditches, with their wilfully-slaughtered bodies, for the fruition of their brutish paradise? and shall I be cowardly, where

Vultum corrugantes obfirmant. Mald. in loc.

Pagans are valiant? Yea, how many have I known, that have eagerly sought for death, and cannot find it? how many, who, upon frivolous occasions, by self-despatches have cast away that life, which they could not otherwise be rid of! What conceit soever I have of the price of life, their undervaluation of it hath been such, that they have parted with it for nothing: they have run to meet that death, which I fly from, as formidable and ugly.

Thou fearest death: look upon the examples of those holy men, who have tendered themselves to the painfullest martyrdom. See Ignatius, resolving to challenge the lions: see the tender virgins, daring the worst cruelty of tyrants; and embracing death, in his worst forms: see silly mothers, in an ambition of a crown of life, running with their children in their arms, to overtake death: see those resolute saints, that might have been loosed from their wheels and racks, with proffers of life and honour, and scorned the exchange? Do I profess their faith; do I look for their glory; and shall I partake nothing of their courage?

Thou art afraid of death: what a slaughter dost thou make, every hour, of all other creatures! What meal passeth thee, wherein some of them do not bleed for thee? yea, not for need, not for use, but for sport, for pleasure, dost thou kill them daily; without pity, without scruple. Alas, we made them not; they are our fellows: he, that made us, made them too. How much are we less to God, than they are to us! Do we see so many thousands of them then die for us, and shall we think much to return our life to our Creator?

Thou art afraid of death: thou mistakest him: thou thinkest him an enemy; he is a friend: if his visage be sour and hard, he is no other than the grim porter of Paradise, which shall let thee into glory. Like unto Peter's good angel, he may smite thee on the side; but he shall lead thee out of thy prison, through the iron gates, into the city of God. Were there an

absolute perition in our dissolution, we could not fear it too much now, that it doth but part us a while for our advantage, what do we fear but our gain? The stalk, and ear, arises from the grain; but it must rot first. Oh, our foolishness, if we be unwilling, that one grain should putrify, for the increase of a hundred!

Thou art afraid of death: hast thou well considered, from how many evils it acquits thee? All the tumults of state, all the bloody cruelties of war, all the vexations of unquiet neighbours, all secret discontentments of mind, all the tormenting pains of body, are hereby eased, at once. Thou shalt no more complain of racking convulsions; of thy wringing cholics; of the dreadful quarry, that is within thy reins and bladder; of

thy belking gouts; of thy scalding fevers; of thy galling ulcers; of the threats of thine imposthumes, the stoppings of thy strangury, the giddiness of thy vertigo, or any other of those killing diseases, wherewith thy life was wont to be infested: here is a full supersedeas for them all: what reason hast thou to be afraid of ease?

Lastly, thou fearest death: is it not that, thy Saviour underwent for thee? Did thy Blessed Redeemer drink of this cup; and art thou unwilling to pledge him? His was a bitter one, in respect of thine; for it was, besides, spiced with the wrath of his Father due to our sins: yet he drank it up to the very dregs, for thee; and wilt thou shrink at an ordinary draught, from his hand? And why did he yield to death, but to overcome him? Why was death suffered to seize upon that Lord of Life, but that, by dying, he might pull out the sting of death? The sting of death is sin; 1 Cor. xv. 56. So then, death hath lost his sting: now thou mayest carry it in thy bosom it may cool thee; it cannot hurt thee. Temper then thy fear with these thoughts; and, that thou mayest not be too much troubled with the sight of death, acquaint thyself with him, beforehand present him to thy thoughts; entertain him, in thy holy and resolute discourses. It was good counsel, that Bernard gave to his novice, that he should put himself, for his meditations, into the place where the dead bodies were wont to be washed; and to settle himself upon the bier, whereon they were wont to be carried forth. So feeling and frequent remembrances could not but make death familiar: and who can startle at the sight of a familiar acquaintance? at a stranger, we do; especially if he come upon us on a sudden: but, if he be a daily and entire guest, he is at all hours welcome, without our dismay or trouble.

SECT. III.

Of the moderation of the passion of Anger.-The Ill Effects of it. The distinction of Zealous and Vicious Anger.—Ar

guments for the Mitigation of our Anger.

Of all the passions, that are incident to a man, there is none so impetuous, or that produceth so terrible effects, as ANGER: for besides that intrinsical mischief, which it works upon a man's own heart, in regard whereof Hugo said well, "Pride robs me of God, envy of my neighbour, anger of myself;" what bloody tragedies doth this passion act every day in the world; making the whole earth nothing, but either an amphitheatre for fights, or a shambles for slaughter! So much the more need is there, of an effectual moderation of so turbulent an affection.