A01573:83
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 gallants burden A sermon preached at Pauls Cross, the twenty nine of March, being the fifth Sunday in Lent. 1612. By Tho. Adams ...The gallants burden A sermon preached at Paules Crosse, the twentie nine of March, being the fift Sunday in Lent. 1612. By Tho. Adams ...
London: printed by W. White for Clement Knight, 1612
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
(Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo ipse d•mi,)1 the world hisseth at me, but I hug & applaud my own soul, & fat my spirits in the sight of my Bags. Is there never a Broker to comfort this sin of death, in the distress of his Conscience with? Usury is no sin, ⟨p. 26⟩many learned men are of this opinion: But I ask him, if his Conscience can be so satisfied: would he not willingly give one hundred pound bag, to be secured in this point? Sure, it is (at the least) not safe wading far in a questionable Water; if it could be safe to some, yet how many have been drowned in this Whirlpool? I confess that flesh and blood puts the Bladders of Wealth and Promotion under their Arm-holes, and the Devil holds them up by the Chin, till they come to the deepest, and then, as the Priests served Judas, they bid them shift for them selves; and wanting the help of Repentance of swim, down they sink (In profundum inferni) to the bottomless bottom of Hell. These two, are not unfitly compared to two Millstones; the Usurer is the nether Stone, that lies still; he sits at home in his warm Furs, and spends his time in a devilish Arithmetic, in numeration of hours, days, and moneys, in subtraction from others estates, and multiplication of his own, till they have divided the earth to themselves, and themselves to Hell: The Broker runs round like the upper Mill-stone, and betwixt both these, the poor is grinded to powder.
(Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo ipse d•mi,)1 the world hisseth at me, but I hug & applaud my owne soule, & fat my spirits in the sight of my Bags. Is there neuer a Broker to comfort this sinne of death, in the distresse of his Conscience with? Vsury is no sinne, ⟨p. 26⟩many learned men are of this opinion: But I aske him, if his Conscience can be so satisfied: would he not willingly giue one hundred pound bagge, to be secured in this poynt? Sure, it is (at the least) not safe wading farre in a questionable Water; if it could be safe to some, yet how many haue been drowned in this Whirlepoole? I confesse that flesh and blood puts the Bladders of Wealth and Promotion vnder their Arme-holes, and the Deuill holdes them vp by the Chinne, till they come to the deepest, and then, as the Priestes serued Iudas, they bid them shift for them selues; and wanting the helpe of Repentance of swimme, downe they sinke (In profundum inferni) to the bottomlesse bottom of Hell. These two, are not vnfitly compared to two Milstones; the Vsurer is the nether Stone, that lyes still; he sittes at home in his warme Furres, and spendes his time in a deuillish Arithmeticke, in numeration of houres, dayes, and moneys, in substraction from others estates, and multiplication of his owne, till they haue diuided the earth to themselues, and themselues to Hell: The Broker runnes round like the vpper Mill-stone, and betwixt both these, the poore is grinded to powder.