A05817:207
The Practice of Piety
The practise of piety directing a Christian how to walk that he may please God.The practise of pietie directing a Christian how to walke that he may please God.
London: printed for John Hodgets, 1613London: printed for Iohn Hodgets, 1613
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.
How shall thy understanding be racked, to consider, how for momentany riches, thou hast lost the eternal treasure, and changed heavens felicity, for hells misery! where every part of thy body without intermission of pain shall be continually tormented alike.
How shall thy vnderstanding be racked, to consider, how for momentany riches, thou hast lost the eternall treasure, and changed heauens felicity, for hels misery! where euery part of thy body without intermission of paine shall be continually tormented alike.
In these hellish torments, thou shalt be for ever deprived of the beatifical sight of GOD, wherein consists the sovereign good, and life of the soul. Thou shalt never see light, nor the lest sight of joy, but lye in a perpetual prison ⟨p. 128⟩of v•ter darkness: where shall be no order but horror: no voice but of blasphemers, & howlers: no noise but of torturers and tortured: no society but of the Devil and his Angels, who being tormented themselves, shall have no other ease but to wreak their fury in tormenting thee. Where shall be punishment without pity: misery without mercy: sorrow without succour: crying without comfort: mischief without measure: torment without ease: where the worm dyeth not, and the fire is never quenched:1 where the wrath of God shall seize upon thy soul and body as the flame of fire doth on the lump of pitch or brimstone: in which flame thou ⟨p. 129⟩shalt ever be burning and never consumed: ever dying and never dead: ever rowing in the pangs of death, and never rid of those pangs, nor knowing end of thy pains: So that after thou hast endured them so many thousand years as there are grass on the Earth, or sands on the Sea-shore, thou art no nearer to have an end of thy torments, then thou wast the first day that thou wast cast into them: yea, so far are they from ending, that they are ever but beginning. But if after a thousand times so many thousand years, thy damned soul could but conceive a hope, that those her torments should have an end, this would be some comfort