A Golden Chain

The misery under his feet, is hell fire: for every man till he repent, is in as great danger of damnation as the traitor apprehended, of hanging, drawing, and quartering. A man walking in his way falls into a deep dungeon that is full of ugly serpents and noisome beasts: in his fall he catches hold of a twig of a tree that grows at the mouth of the dungeon, and hangs by it: afterward there comes a beast both lean and hungerbitten, which having cropped the whole tree, is ever and an on knapping at the twig on which he hangs. Now, what is the danger of this man? surely he is like to fall into the pit, over which he hangs. Well, this man is every impenitent sinner: the pit is hell, prepared for the devil and his angels: the twig is the brittle and frail life of man: the hungerbitten beast is death, that is ready every hour to knappe, our life a sunder: the danger is fearful: for man hanging as it were over the mouth of hell, when life is ended, unless he use good means before he die, he then falls to the very bottom of it.

The miserie vnder his feete, is hell fire: for euery man till he repent, is in as great danger of damnation as the traitour apprehended, of hanging, drawing, and quartering. A man walking in his way falls into a deepe dungeon that is full of ougly serpents and noysome beasts: in his fall he catches hold of a twig of a tree that growes at the mouth of the dungeon, and hangs by it: afterward there comes a beast both leane and hungerbitten, which hauing cropt the whole tree, is euer and an on knapping at the twig on which he hangs. Now, what is the danger of this man? surely he is like to fall into the pit, ouer which he hangs. Well, this man is euery impenitent sinner: the pit is hell, prepared for the deuill and his angels: the twigge is the brickle and fraile life of man: the hungerbitten beast is death, that is readie euery houre to knappe, our life a sunder: the danger is fearefull: for man hanging as it were ouer the mouth of hell, when life is ended, vnlesse he vse good meanes before he die, he then falls to the very bottome of it.

If this be the misery wherewith the careless man is •ieged and compassed about every way, and that for his sins, why do men lie in the dead sleep of security? O! it stands them in hand to take up the voice of bitter lamentation, and for their offences to howl after the manner of dragons. If men could weep nothing but tears of blood for their sins, if they could die a thousand times in one day for very grief, they could never be grieved enough for their sins.