should never in all his life be touched with remorse for his ill-spent
life.
Wise. Remorse, I cannot say he ever had, if by remorse you mean
repentance for his evils. Yet twice I remember he was under some
trouble of mind about his condition: {140b} Once when he broke his legg
as he came home drunk from the Ale-house; and another time when he fell
sick, and thought he should die: Besides these two times, I do not
remember any more.
Atten. Did he break his legg then?
Wise. Yes: Once, as he came home drunk from the Ale-house.
Atten. Pray how did he break it?
Wise. Why upon a time he was at an Ale-house, that wicked house, about
two or three miles from home, and having there drank hard the greatest
part of the day, when night was come, he would stay no longer, but
calls for his horse, gets up, and like a Madman (as drunken persons
usually ride) away he goes, as hard as horse could lay legs to the
ground. Thus he rid, till coming to a dirty place, where his horse
flouncing in, fell, threw his master, and with his fall broke his legg:
so there he lay. {140c} But you would not think how he {140d} swore at
first. But after a while, he comeing to himself, and feeling by his
pain, and the uselesness of his legg, what case he was in, and also
fearing that this bout might be his death; he began to crie out after
the manner of such; {140e} Lord help me, Lord have mercy upon me, good
God deliver me, and the like. So there he lay, till some came by, who
took him up, carried him home, where he lay for some time, before he
could go abroad again.
Atten. And then, you say, he called upon God.
Wise. He cryed out in his pain, and would say, O God, and O Lord,
help me: but whether it was that his sin might be pardoned, and his
soul saved, or whether to be rid of his pain, I will not positively
determine; though I fear it was but for the last; {141a} because, when
his pain was gone, and he had got hopes of mending, even before he
could go abroad, he cast off prayer, and began his old game; to wit, to
be as bad as he was before. He then would send for his old companions;
his Sluts also would come to his house to see him, and with them he
would be, as well as he could for his lame leg, as vicious as they
could be for their hearts.
Atten. ’Twas a wonder he did not break his neck.
Wise. His neck had gone instead of his leg, but that God was
long-suffering towards him; he had deserved it ten thousand times over.
There have been many, as I have heard, and as I have hinted to you
before, that have taken their Horses when drunk, as he; but they have
gone from the pot to the grave; for they have broken their necks ’twixt
the Ale-house and home. [Picture: Take note symbol] One hard by us also
drunk himself dead; he drank, and dyed in his drink.
Atten. ’Tis a sad thing to dye drunk.
Wise. So it is: But yet I wonder that no more do so. For considering
the heinousness of that sin, and with how many other sins it is
accompanied, {141c} as with oaths, blasphemies, lyes, revellings,
whoreings, brawlings, &c. it is a wonder to me, that any that live in
that sin should escape such a blow from heaven that should tumble them
into their graves. Besides, when I consider also how, when they are
as drunk as beasts, they, without all fear of danger, will ride like
Bedlams and mad men, even as if they did dare God to meddle with them
if he durst, for their being drunk: I say, I wonder that he doth not
withdraw his protecting providences from them, and leave them to those
Dangers and Destructions that by their sin they have deserved, and
that by their Bedlam madness they would rush themselves into: only I
consider again, that he has appointed a day wherein he will reckon with
them, {141d} and doth also commonly make Examples of some, to shew that
he takes notice of their sin, abhorrs their way, and will count with
them for it at the set time.
Atten. It is worthy of our remark, to take notice how God, to shew his
dislike of the sins of men, strikes some of them down with a blow; as
the breaking of Mr. Badmans legg, for doubtless that was a stroak from
heaven.
Wise. It is worth our remark indeed. It was an open stroak, it fell
upon him while he was in the height of his sin: And it looks much like
to that in Job; Therefore he knoweth their works, and overturneth them
in the night, so that they are destroyed. He striketh them as wicked
men in the open sight of others: {142a} Or as the Margent reads it,
in the place of beholders. He layes them with his stroak in the place
of beholders. There was {142b} Mr. Badman laid, his stroak was taken
notice of by every one: his broken legg was at this time the Town-talk.
Mr. Badman has broken his legg, sayes one: How did he break it? sayes
another: As he came home drunk from such an Ale-house, said a third; A
Judgment of God upon him, said a fourth. This his sin, his shame, and
punishment, are all made conspicuous to all that are about him. I will
here tell you another story or two.
I have read in Mr. Clark’s Looking-glass for Sinners; {142c} That upon
a time, a certain drunken fellow boasted in his Cups, that there was
neither Heaven nor Hell; also he said, He believed, that man had no
Soul, and that for his own part, he would sell his soul to any that
would buy it. Then did one of his companions buy it of him for a cup of
Wine; and presently the Devil in mans shape bought it of that man again
at the same price; and so in the presence of them all laid hold on this
Soul-seller, and carried him away through the Air, so that he was never
more heard of.
In pag. 148, he tells us also: That there was one at Salisbury, in the
midst of his health drinking and carousing in a Tavern; and he drank
a health to the Devil, saying, That if the Devil would not come and
pledge him, he would not believe that there was either God or Devil.
Whereupon his companions stricken with fear, hastened out of the room:
and presently after, hearing a hideous noise, and smelling a stinking
savour, the Vintner ran up into the chamber; and coming in, he missed
his Guest, and found the window broken, the Iron barr in it bowed, and
all bloody: But the man was never heard of afterwards.
Again, in pag. 149. he tells us of a Bailiff of Hedly: Who upon a
Lords Day being drunk at Melford, got upon his horse, to ride through
the streets, saying, That his horse would carry him to the Devil: and
presently his horse threw him, and broke his neck. These things are
worse than the breaking of Mr. Badmans Leg, and should be a caution to
all of his friends that are living, lest they also fall by their sin
into these sad Judgements of God.
But, as I said, Mr. Badman quickly forgot all, his conscience was
choaked, before his legg was healed. And therefore, before he was well
of the fruit of one sin, he tempts God to send another Judgment to
seize upon him: And so he did quickly after. For not many months after
his legg was well, he had a very dangerous fit of sickness, insomuch
that now he began to think he must dye in very deed. {143a}
Atten. Well, and what did he think and do then?
Wise. He thought he must go to Hell; this I know, for he could not
forbear but say so. {143b} To my best remembrance, he lay crying out
all one night for fear, and at times he would so tremble, that he would
make the very bed shake under him. {143c} But, Oh! how the thoughts
of Death, of Hell-fire, and of eternal Judgment, did then wrack his
conscience. Fear might be seen in his face, and in his tossings to and
fro: It might also be heard in his words, and be understood by his
heavy groans. He would often cry, I am undone, I am undone; my vile
life has undone me.
Atten. Then his former atheistical thoughts and principles, were too
weak now to support him from the fears of eternal damnation.
Wise. Aie! they were too weak indeed. They may serve to stifle
conscience, when a man is in the midst of his prosperity, and to harden
the heart against all good counsel when a man is left of God, and
given up to his reprobate mind: {143d} But alas, atheistical thoughts,
Notions and Opinions, must shrink and melt away, when God sends, yea
comes with sickness to visit the soul of such a sinner for his sin.
There was a man dwelt about 12 miles off from us, that had so trained
up himself in his atheistical Notions, that at last he attempted to
write a book against Jesus Christ, and against the divine Authority
of the Scriptures. (But I think it was not printed:) Well, after many
days God struck him with sickness, whereof he dyed. So, being sick,
and musing upon his former doings, the Book that he had written came
into his mind, and with it such a sence of his evil in writing of
it, that it tore his Conscience as a Lyon would tare a Kid. He lay
therefore upon his death-bed in sad case, {144a} and much affliction
of conscience: some of my friends also went to see him; and as they
were in his chamber one day, he hastily called for Pen Ink and Paper,
which when it was given him, he took it and writ to this purpose.
[Picture: Take note symbol] I, such an one, in such a Town, must goe
to Hell-fire, for writing a Book against Jesus Christ, and against the
Holy Scriptures: And would also have leaped out of the window of his
house to have killed himself, but was by them prevented of that: so he
dyed in his bed, such a death as it was. ’Twill be well if others take
warning by him.
Atten. This is a remarkable story.
Wise. ’Tis as true as remarkable; I had it from them that I dare
believe, who also themselves were eye and ear witnesses; and also that
catcht him in their arms, and saved him when he would have leaped out
of his chamber-window, to have destroyed himself.
Atten. Well, you have told me what were Mr. Badmans thoughts (now,
being sick) of his condition; pray tell me also what he then did when
he was sick?
Wise. Did! he did many things, which I am sure he never thought to
have done, and which, to be sure, was not looked for of his wife and
children.
In this fit of sickness, his Thoughts were quite altered about his
wife; I say his Thoughts, so far as could be judged by his words and
carriages to her. {144c} For now she was his good wife, his godly wife,
his honest wife, his duck, and dear, and all. Now he told her, that she
had the best of it, she having a good Life to stand by her, while his
debaucheries and ungodly Life did always stare him in the face. Now he
told her, the counsel that she often gave him, was good; though he was
so bad as not to take it.
Now he would hear her talk to him, and he would lie sighing by her
while she so did. Now he would bid her pray for him, that he might be
delivered from Hell. {145a}
He would also now consent, that some of her good Ministers might come
to him to comfort him; and he would seem to shew them kindness when
they came, for he would treat them kindly with words, and hearken
diligently to what they said, only he did not care that they should
talk much of his ill spent life, because his conscience was clogged
with that already; he cared not now to see his old companions, the
thoughts of them was a torment to him: and now he would speak kindly to
that child of his that took after its mothers steps, though he could
not at all abide it before.
He also desired the prayers of good people, that God of his mercy would
spare him a little longer, promising that if God would but let him
recover this once, what a new, what a penitent man he would be toward
God, and what a loving husband he would be to his wife: what liberty
he would give her, yea how he would goe with her himself to hear her
Ministers, and how they should go hand in hand in the way to heaven
together.
Atten. Here was a fine shew of things; I’le warrant you, his wife was
glad for this.
Wise. His wife! Aie, and a many good people besides: it was noysed all
over the Town, {145b} what a great change there was wrought upon Mr.
Badman; how sorry he was for his sins, how he began to love his wife,
how he desired good men should pray to God to spare him; and what
promises he now made to God in his sickness, that if ever he should
raise him from his sick bed to health again, what a new penitent man he
would be towards God, and what a loving husband to his good wife.
Well, ministers prayed, and good people rejoyced, thinking verily that
they now had gotten a man from the Devil; nay, some of the weaker sort
did not stick to say that God had began a work of Grace in his heart;
and his wife, poor woman, {145c} you cannot think how apt she was to
believe it so; she rejoyced, and she hoped as she would have it. But,
alas! alas! in little time things all proved otherwise.
After he had kept his Bed a while, his distemper began to abate, and he
to feel himself better, so he in little time was so finely mended, that
he could walk about the house, and also obtained a very fine stomach
to his food: {146a} and now did his wife and her good friends stand
gaping, to see Mr. Badman fulfill his promise of becoming new towards
God, and loving to his wife: but the contrary only shewed it self. For
so soon as ever he had hopes of mending, and found that his strength
began to renew, his trouble began to goe off his heart, and he grew as
great a stranger to his frights and fears, as if he had never had them.
But verily, I am apt to think, that one reason of his no more
regarding, or remembring of his sick-bed fears, and of being no better
for them, was, some words that the Doctor that supplied him with
Physick said to him when he was mending. For as soon as Mr. Badman
began to mend, the Doctor comes and sits him down by him in his house,
and there fell into discourse with him about the nature of his disease;
and among other things they talked of Badmans trouble, and how he
would cry out, tremble, and express his fears of going to Hell when
his sickness lay pretty hard upon him. To which the Doctor replyed:
{146b} That those fears and Out-cries did arise from the height of
his distemper, for that disease was often attended with lightness of
the head, by reason the sick party could not sleep, and for that the
vapours disturbed the brain: But you see Sir, quoth he, that so soon
as you got sleep and betook your self to rest, you quickly mended, and
your head settled, and so those frenzies left you.
And was it so indeed, thought Mr. Badman; was my troubles, only the
effects of my distemper, and because ill vapours got up into my brain?
Then surely, since my Physician was my Saviour, my Lust again shall be
my God. So he never minded Religion more, but betook him again to the
world, his lusts and wicked companions: And there was an end of Mr.
Badmans Conversion.
Atten. I thought, (as you told me of him) that this would be the result
of the whole; for I discerned by your relating of things, that the
true symptoms of conversion were wanting in him, and that those that
appeared to be any thing like them, were only such as the reprobates
may have.
Wise. You say right, for there wanted in him, when he was most
sensible, a sence of the pollution of his Nature; he only had guilt for
his sinful actions, the which Cain, and Pharaoh, and Saul, and Judas,
those reprobates, have had before him. {147a}
Besides, the great things that he desired, were, to be delivered from
going to Hell, (and who would willingly?) and that his life might be
lengthened in this world. We find not by all that he said or did, that
Jesus Christ the Saviour was desired by him, from a sence of his need
of his Righteousness to cloath him, and of his Spirit to sanctifie him.
{147b}
His own strength was whole in him, he saw nothing of the treachery of
his own heart; for had he, he would never have been so free to make
promises to God of amendment. He would rather have been afraid, that
if he had mended, he should have turned with the dog to his vomit, and
have begged prayers of Saints, and assistance from heaven upon that
account, that he might have been kept from doing so.
’Tis true he did beg prayers of good people, and so did Pharaoh of
Moses and Aaron, and Simon Magus of Simon Peter. {147c}
His mind also seemed to be turned to his wife and child; but alas!
’twas rather from conviction that God had given him concerning their
happy estate over his, than for that he had any true love to the work
of God that was in them. True, some shews of kindness he seemed to have
for them, and so had rich Dives, when in Hell, to his five brethren
that were yet in the world; yea he had such love, as to wish them in
Heaven, that they might not come thither to be tormented. {147d}
Atten. Sick-bed Repentance is seldom good for any thing.
Wise. You {147e} say true, it is very rarely good for any thing indeed.
Death is unwelcom to Nature, and usually when sickness and death visit
the sinner; the first taking of him by the shoulder, and the second
standing at the Bed-chamber door to receive him; then the sinner begins
to look about him, and to bethink with himself, These will have me
away before God; and I know that my Life has not been as it should,
how shall I do to appear before God! Or if it be more the sence of the
punishment, and the place of the punishment of sinners, that also is
starting to a defiled conscience, now rouzed by deaths lumbring at the
door.
And hence usually is sick-bed Repentance, and the matter of it: To wit,
to be saved from Hell, and from Death, and that God will restore again
to health till they mend; concluding that it is in their power to mend,
as is evident by their large and lavishing promises to do it.
I have known many, that, when they have been sick, have had large
measures of this kind of Repentance, and while it has lasted, the noyse
and sound thereof, has made the Town to ring again: but alas! how long
has it lasted? oft-times scarce so long as untill the party now sick
has been well. It has passed away like a mist or a vapour, it has
been a thing of no continuance. But this kind of Repentance is by God
compared to the howling of a dog. And they have not cried unto me with
their heart, when they howled upon their bed. {148a}
Atten. Yet one may see, by this, the desperateness of mans heart:
{148b} for what is it but desperate wickedness, to make promise to God
of amendment, if he will but spare them; and yet so soon as they are
recovered (or quickly after,) fall to sin as they did before, and never
to regard their promise more.
Wise. It is a sign of desperateness indeed; yea, of desperate madness.
For surely, they must needs think, that God took notice of their
promise, that he heard the words that they spake, {148c} and that he
hath laid them up against the time to come; and will then bring out,
and testifie to their faces, that they flattered him with their mouth,
and lyed unto him with their tongue, {148d} when they lay sick, to
their thinking, upon their death-bed, and promised him that if he would
recover them they would repent and amend their ways. But thus, as I
have told you, Mr. Badman did. He made great promises that he would be
a New man, that he would leave his sins, and become a Convert, that he
would love, &c. his godly wife, &c. Yea many fine words had Mr. Badman
in his sickness, but no good actions when he was well.
Atten. And how did his good wife take it, when she saw that he had no
Amendment, but that he returned with the Dog to his vomit, to his old
courses again?
Wise. Why it {149a} broke her heart, it was a worse disappointment to
her than the cheat that he gave her in marriage: At least she laid it
more to heart, and could not so well grapple with it. You must think
that she had put up many a prayer to God for him before, even all the
time that he had carried it so badly to her, and now when he was so
affrighted in his sickness, and so desired that he might live and mend,
poor woman, she thought that the time was come for God to answer her
prayers; nay, she did not let with gladness, to whisper it out amongst
her Friends, that ’twas so: but when she saw her self disappointed by
her husbands turning Rebel again, she could not stand up under it, but
falls into a languishing distemper, and in a few weeks gave up the
Ghost.
Atten. Pray how did she dye?
Wise. Die! she dyed bravely; full of comfort of the faith of her
Interest in Christ, and by him, of the world to come: she had many
brave Expressions in her sickness, and gave to those that came to
visit her many signs of her salvation; the thoughts of the Grave, but
specially of her Rising again, were sweet thoughts to her. She would
long for Death, because she knew it would be her Friend. She behaved
her self like to some that were making of them ready to go meet their
Bridegroom. {149b} Now, said she, I am going to rest from my sorrows,
my sighs, my tears, my mournings and complaints: I have heretofore
longed to be among the Saints, but might by no means be suffered to
goe, but now I am going, (and no man can stop me) to the great Meeting,
to the general Assembly, and Church of the first-born which are written
in Heaven. {149c} There I shall have my hearts desire; there I shall
worship without Temptation or other impediment; there I shall see the
face of my Jesus, whom I have loved, whom I have served, and who now,
I know, will save my soul. {149d} I have prayed often for my husband,
that he might be converted, but there has been no answer of God in that
matter; Are my prayers lost? are they forgotten? are they thrown over
the barr? No; they are hanged upon the horns of the golden Altar, and I
must have the benefit of them my self, that moment that I shall enter
into the gates, in at which the righteous Nation that keepeth truth
shall enter: I say, I shall have the benefit of them. I can say as holy
David; I say, I can say of my husband, as he could of his enemies. As
for me, when they were sick my cloathing was of sack-cloth, I humbled
my soul with fasting, and my prayer returned into my bosom. {150a} My
prayers are not lost, my tears are yet in God’s bottle; I would have
had a Crown, and Glory for my husband, and for those of my children
that follow his steps; but so far as I can see yet, I must rest in the
hope of having all my self.
Atten. Did she talk thus openly?
Wise. No; this she spake but to one or two of her most intimate
acquaintance, who were permitted to come and see her, when she lay
languishing upon her death-bed.
Atten. Well, but pray go on in your relation, this is good: I am glad
to hear it, this is as a cordial to my heart while we sit thus talking
under this tree.
Wise. When she drew near her end, she called for her husband, and when
he was come to her, she told him, {150b} That now he and she must
part, and said she, God knows, and thou shalt know, that I have been a
loving, faithful Wife unto thee; my prayers have been many for thee;
and as for all the abuses that I have received at thy hand, those I
freely and heartily forgive, and still shall pray for thy conversion,
even as long as I breathe in this world. But husband, I am going
thither, where no bad man shall come, and if thou dost not convert,
thou wilt never see me more with comfort; let not my plain words offend
thee: I am thy dying wife, and of my faithfulness to thee, would leave
this Exhortation with thee: Break off thy sins, fly to God for mercy
while mercies gate stands open; remember, that the day is coming, when
thou, though now lusty and well, must lye at the gates of death, as I
do: And what wilt thou then do, if thou shalt be found with a naked
soul, to meet with the Cherubims with their flaming swords? yea, what
wilt thou then do, if Death and Hell shall come to visit thee, and thou
in thy sins, and under the Curse of the Law?
Atten. This was honest and plain: but what said Mr. Badman to her?