The gallants burden A sermon preached at Pauls Cross, the twenty nine of March,…The gallants burden A sermon preached at Paules Crosse, the twentie nine of March,…

The work of our day, is the working up our salvation; it is a special work, Heaven & our Souls are upon it, and we have but our day to work it; (Tempus vitae, tempus paenitentiae) The time of life, is the time of Repentance. We spend one piece of our Day in Covetous scrapings, another in adoring that we have scraped; some hours of our Day in working vanity, and some in sleeping security; instantly the Night of death comes, & we have neglected the main chance: our Salvation is not finished like Courtiers, that having light to bring them to bed, play it out at Cards, and go to bed darkling: Woe to them that go to their last rest thus: How unworthy are we of a Day, thus to spend it? It is pity that ever the Sun of Grace shone on our faces: Quake and fear, what soever thou art, to suffer the sin of thy soul, and the end of thy life to come so near together: If men stumble in the dark, it is not strange; to fall at every stub in the day, argues wilful neglect, or want of eyes. It is enough for those poor Romanists, that live under that Egyptian darkness of the inquisition, to fall into grievous absurdities, where the Sun shines, to see men fall in heaps, is astonishing: Oh that every bait of drunkenness, object of covetousness, presented glance of vanity, should make us wander and stumble, stumble and fall, fall and content our selves therein without rising: What (would we? what) will we do, if our Sun sets? For shame cast away the deeds of darkness ⟨image 26⟩with the time:¹ Awake and stand up, the light of Jesus Christ shines on thy face. As men from sleep opening their eyes, and seeing day broke, cast away their clothes, wherein they were wrapped warm, and start up to their several callings; the Sins and Vanities of this world have kept us warm, as Caiaphas kept Peter, whiles we were folded in them; but our main work lay dead for want of execution: Provide then for this Night,² oh thou whose cheek the Sun of mercy and forbearance, kisseth: The sleep of him that travaileth, is sweet,³ whether he eat little or much: but the satiety of the rich will not suffer him to sleep. If the Day be well spent, the wearied bones rejoice in their earned repose; and the contented Conscience, applauds it self in the thought of her careful obedience; body and soul receives rest.