THE Royall Guest OR A SERMON PREACHED AT LENT Assises Anno Dom. M.DC.XXXVI At the Cathedrall of SARVM being the first Sunday of Lent before S r. IOHN FINCH and S r. JOHN DENHAM His Majesties Justices of Assise By THOMAS DRANT of Shaston in Com. Dorset LONDON Printed by G. M. for Walter Hammond and are to be sold by Michael Sparke in Greene-Arbour 1637. TO THE WORSHIPFVLL PETER BALL ESQVIRE Recorder of the famous Citie of EXON health in this life true happinesse in the life to come SIR I Might Preface to you with Reasons of this Dedication or with Apologies You are a stranger to me nec beneficio nec injuria cognitus Onely I affect to be knowne unto you this is motive enough nor pleade I other excuse What your eares grac't with a liking in the passage these sheetes speake to your eyes but more standingly my hopes are blest if I please both sences Your applause as 't is tradition'd me was full and liberall much above the worth of these thoughts I silence the causes made them Publique that makes them Yours and candor 't is I honour more than greatnesse in a Patron I owe your love an acknowledgement deeds were little enough to expresse it but my aimes are crown'd if by your Pardon or Acceptance this so small Booke professione pietatis aut laudatus erit aut excusatus Farre-well Worthy Sir Shaston Decimo Sexto Kalendarum Aprilis Yours in all services gladly devoted THOMAS DRANT The Royall Guest REVELAT 3. VER 20. Behold I stand at the doore and Knock. WEE meete here a Royall Guest who enstated in all the Royalties of Heaven yet sues for a welcome on earth and wee have him in my Text. First for Posture Standing I stand Secondly for Place At the doore I stand at the doore Thirdly for Action Knocking I stand at the doore and Knocke. Behold I stand at the doore and Knocke. These are the severall Branches the bodie of this Text spreads into where doe perch on every sprigg Wonder and Mercy Wonder that GOD who is all Glory should come downe unto man who is all vilenesse Mercy that Man who is a foule ragge of uncleanenesse should be made a temple for GOD to dwell in who is all Holy GOD and man were at distance but now nay at odds nay at feud if ever any happy is that union which brings them under one roofe to one table this is marveilous in our eyes and therefore chain'd in with an Ecce here Behold I stand at the doore and Knocke. Behold is a word of Emphasis and Energie if this Starre stand ore the house a JESVS is within nor points this hand in the Margin but there 's juice and substance in the Text Some of ranke are in the Palace where this Porter keeps the gate and fruits not to be plucked rudely in that Paradice where this Cherube guardes the entry where Ecce is written on the box be sure the ointment's precious something of weight and moment doth march in the reare if Behold leades up the front and as the Baptist in Sacred Writ prepares the way to it 't is so here GOD bowes the Heavens and comes downe among men nor comes he arm'd with thunders cloath'd with Majesty darkenesse being his pavilion about him as to Israel on Mount Sinay So to come would strike terrour in all hearts nor comes he as sometime he came into his Sanctuary where the Singers went before the plaiers of instruments followed after among them were the Damosels playing with timbrels thus to come would be a pleasant object to all eyes He comes here forma pauperis as a Mendicant who begs an almes for GODS sake He breakes not into our roomes but stands at our doores at whose least breath the gates of hell flie open and the barres of iron burst in peeces here is patience and humility to a miracle and both stamped with an Ecce Behold I Stand c. Nay not a word here but this dash of the HOLY GHOSTS quill the impression of this character is due unto it First I it were enough were I a guardian Angell to some Monarch below if one from the Sacred Quire of the Prophets if the least among those feathered Hierarchies above but I the Prince of peace the King of glory the LORD Paramount of Heaven and Earth Secondly I stand I sit not in my chaire of state I leane not on a cushion of ease I roule not on beds of violets and strewings of rose-buds but I stand and this posture of mine speakes as my readinesse to enter so my patience to awaite it Thirdly I Stand at the doore not in the Hall where the warmth of a fire might cheere me not in the chamber where I might rest my limbes on a couch of Ivory but at the doore without shelter or penthouse where the drislie sleete chils and the stormie tempest beates upon me where my head is is fil'd with the dew and my lecks defil'd with the drops of the night Fourthly I stand at the doore and Knocke. I stand not at the doore as the harlot sate at hers in the Proverbs to tole in gaine and enamour the passinger to folly nor stand I as those Sodomites who thronged about the dores of Lot to shed that blood which bedewes the earth and with its shreekes awakens Heaven to vengeance I stand not with my hands in my bosome or my armes enfolded together or to gaze about me as those Idlers in the Market-place but I stand to knocke nor give I a rappe and away as a Post that flieth by but as 't is a peece of my devoire to gaine an entry so I stand to it if by any meanes they will open to mee and their owne happinesse Behold I stand at the doore and Knocke. Now O LORD what is Man though retinu'de with all the pompe of greatnesse what the Sonnes of men those who move in the highest Orbes what the whole Series and descent of them even theirs whose blood flowes from the noblest veines What the whole cluster and bunch of mankinde that so mighty a GOD at whose persence the Heavens droppe out of whose mouth coales of fire devoure whose voice rents the rockes and discovers the forrests that hee should stand at our doores and knock How many roundes of wonder in this one Ladder in this one chaine how many linkes of Miracle what wedges of gold in this rich Minerall I shall digg for some and one pretious ingot I light on at the very head of this Mine 't is the partie who stands at our doore implied in the Greeke 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 exprest in our English I the Guest himselfe I stand I who I who stretch out the Heavens like a curtaine and againe make a sack their covering and shall shrivell them up as a parched scroule at the last day I who ride upon a Cherube and flie who flie upon the wings of the winde
I who have founded the earth upon the waters and established it upon the floods I who have shut up the Sea with dores and made the cloud the garment thereof and thicke darkenesse the swadling band for it I who weigh the mountaines in a ballance to whom the Nations are as the droppings of a bucket I who dwell above the circle of the Moone and hold the ball of the world in my hand In a word I who am Alpha and Omega all full of grace and truth in whom dwells the fullnesse of the God-head bodily who thinke it no robbery to bee equall with GOD as being the image and character of his goodnesse whose throne is at the right hand of my Father but my Soveraignety is throughout all ages and to the ends of the earth I thus rob'd with dignity thus engirt with power thus bedect and crown'd with Majesty I stand Now 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Saint Chrysostome in a holy trance here O the height and depth of the mercy of GOD O the bowels and entrailes of the love of CHRIST thou art O SAVIOVR a plant of the Celestiall Eden what finger could plucke thee thence A stone thou art cut out of the Heavenly quarre but by what hand Who could force thee from the bosome of thy Father thy palaces of glory Who but thy selfe 't was for us Men and our Salvation that thou cam'st downe from Heaven this Abisse of thy goodnesse wee cannot fathome nor measure its greatnesse wee may guesse at it if we reflect 1. On thy All-worthinesse 2. On our All-worthlesnesse First On thy All-worthinesse but what tongue of the learned is not dumbe here CHRIST comes not for his owne benefit but ours we solace our selves in the diffused raies of the Sunne but doth our looking on him add the least sparke to his brightnesse the earth is enricht by the showers that fall upon it doe those drops or the ground gaine Sure our goodnesse extendeth not to thee O LORD or should wee impoverish our selves what were our Mite to thy Treasure Our Guest here is the Heire of all things nor comes Hee to gaine by us but to gaine us Hee wants not what is ours for His is the Heaven and the Heaven of Heavens the Earth also and all that therein is here is worth enough as to blesse so entrance us Secondly On our own All-worthlesnesse alasse what impure Sties what Stables of dung what Cabins of filth are wee How unworthy under whose roofe such a Guest should come is there any beauty in us to attract his love any comelinesse to ravish him unto us None Miriam was not more leaprous never Leopard more spotty wee are as Homer paints out Thersites 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 One masse and lumpe of deformitie Doe our garments smell of Mirrh or are they perfumed with the powders of the Merchant that with the savour of our Ointments wee may draw Him after us No we have on no cloathing not a skirt to cover our nakednesse or our coate is pollutio panni staines and raggs an uncleane thing in the Prophet that either way we are the objects either of a frowne or scorne thus wallowing loathsomely in our owne gore thus patcht up with shreds of filthinesse CHRIST now lookes upon and loves us O the over-flowings of a gratious pitty what channels or bankes can hold it how freely runs it how fully but love is strong as death and by that coard wee might pull Him to us Neither how dearely wee loved Him witnesse His head harrowed with thornes His face blurr'd with spittle His eyes tortured with all spectacles of shame His eares board with blasphemies those iron plates which pearced His hands and feete and by which Dido did conjure her Aenaeas corpus sanguine mersum His body drowned in blood See here 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 as the Apostle phraseth it and 't is a streine of divine elegancy A love not to bee sampled or scand by us above the reach of all finite Apprehension but pitch our selves at the highest our purest Oare hath its drosse our sweetest fruits their sowernesse our best workes and they too like Salomons Sculpture A lillie upon a pillar A lillie upon a pillar rare and few will they not weigh light in the Scales of the Sanctuary Gideons plea when hee was to rescue Israel from the Shackles of Midian and startled at the Summons it may be ours who ever are the wealthiest among us in sacred graces Behold my family is poore in Manasseh I am the least in my Fathers house what than are wee that such a visit should bee given us how poore cottagers to entertaine so great a Landlord can our tabernacles of sticks hold Him whom the huge vastnesse of heaven and earth containes not Here is a Maze who can tread it it is not for my pencill to limbe in this peece give mee leave than to draw a vaile and passe from the Guest who He is to my first generall his Posture which is Standing Behold I stand I stand First Standing is a posture of Readinesse Saint Stephen when hee was to fall under that shower of stones saw the Heavens open and JESVS standing at the right hand of GOD we reade often that he sits in the conflicts of his Church not bloodie Hee but lookes on or helpes with ease 't is but here that He Stands Stands now that his Saints engag'd in a fight to death as a Champion with his sword girt unto his thigh and so is Ready to enter the lists upon the signall given and though conquer'd to bring him off victorious CHRIST stands at our doore in my Text and by this gesture shewes us clearely as if it were described by the raies of the Sunne that with the whole traine and quire of his graces He is ready to enter into our hearts if wee open unto Him what a blessing is it to bee the mansions of the blessed Trinity the Exchequers and Magazins of all holy endowments the favourites and darlings of Heaven this happinesse CHRIST is ready to make ours and that wee may not misse it as being bewitcht with the worlds inchantments with what throwes and pangs of love doth Hee wish O that there were such a heart in this people to feare mee alwaies with what patheticall Rhetorique doth hee perswade Returne returne O Shunamite returne with what deepe sighes and streames of teares laments He O Hierusalem Hierusalem how often would I have gathered thee together as the hen her chickens CHRIST weepes not in sport as those two Mimiks the Stage-player and the Hypoerite it is for our weale or losse that waters flow from His eyes if throbs and groanes breake from Him 't is or for our stubbornenesse that we not or for His owne desire that He would have us lay hold on mercy if wee barre our gates against Him Hee deplores our contumacy but were He not willing to come in Hee would
nor those bow nor tother blush the Word is a hammer to breake this rock a peeces a fire to melt it into softnesse a rod to make waters of penitence gush out from it Men stop their eares like the Adder the One they couch to the ground ramme into it store of covetous dirt the Other they close up with their winding tale fill it with carols and rounds of lust Even these Serpents have beene charm'd by the Word 't is heavenly incantations have undeaft them they have danced to the pipe of the Gospell the silver bels of Aaron have ravisht them out of their selves and now no musick to the sweet songs of Sion how unfruitfull a soile is mans soule how barren a peece of earth till the Word distills as the dew upon it and than O the happy fruits of a few drops is the heart malitious no knee can beg a pardon of it as soone wee may calme the Sea when all the windes are in an uproare is it covetous no balme can supple it to pittie none art extract a mite from it is it ambitious and will we stay its careere as well we may stop the lightning is it factious all the harmony of Heaven cannot sing it into peace is it fruitlesse as soone we may plow the waters and expect a crop thence is it hard what meanes can mollifie it what oile here what vineger there Behold the Word drops as the raine upon it as the small raine upon the tender herbe and as the showers upon the grasse straight this flint softens into flesh these jars kisse in a sweet concord this rough Ocean doth cease to rage that Gilboah is cloath'd in Greene where but now no blade was not a leafe of grasse to apparell it as if a new soule were breath'd into him such a change is in the whole man quantum mutatus ab illo Zacheus is mercifull Paul tame as a lambe Ahab puts sackcloth upon his flesh Felix trembles like an Aspen leafe Peter taken from the nets doth catch a thousand and a thousand soules at a draught nay the world is won to the faith not by the Sages of Aegypt but the refuse of Iury the Rabbies with these with those the Magi are master'd by them the words of Fishermen are reade saith Augustine but the necks of Oratours are subdu'd that Romane Chieftaine might not more boast his veni vidi vici than they they conquer'd as many nations as they saw not Ore gladij with the edge of the sword this can but gash the flesh at most make a gappe for the soule to step out at but gladio oris the keene blade of the Word which divides betweene the soule and the spirit no other weapon can pierce so deepe not that fiery one with which the Cherubins kept the passage of Paradice not a heart within these wals but GOD now knocks at it by this Word though not by this onely for Secondly GOD knocks by His Mercies His Mercies A theame for Angels to descant on the sweetest Attribute of the Deitie the alone object of His delight Heaven were as Hell without it and all approach to His Throne Death whom would not Majesty swallow up did not mercy temper it we are consumed with His fires as He is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a Capitoll of justice but we slie into His bosome as He is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 an Asylum of mercy and the best Sanctuary Hee is nay joyes to be so Tully speakes it of himselfe and take him as the Embleme of a good judge Partes lenitatis misericordi aeque semper egi libenter gravitatis severitatisque personam non appetivi I willingly acted the parts of mildnesse the bent of my nature was this way the Publique good is at stake and the dignity of the Empire to be rescued when I put on the person of severity if GOD strike as our sinnes may force a weapon into His hands He stiles it a strange worke a strange Act Austerity is no consort of His no familiar little acquaintance He hath with it nor glories He to have any etiam justissimis paenis illachrymat as Suetonius of Vespatian he doom'd not to the most just punishment with drie cheekes not like that bloodie Massalla who in one day having strooke off foure thousand heads so Valerius reckons them vaunts it among those piles of carkasses 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 O Act worthy a King no such tyrannie in our GOD of whom all the heavenly Coiristers chaunt it and let us beare a part with them The LORD is gratious and full of compassion slow to anger and of great mercie the LORD is good to all and His tender mercies are above all His workes what above all His workes that starry roofe over our heads and those millions of tapers which burne there this pavement of thy workmanship O LORD we tread on every the least inch of it the whole earth is full of thy goodnesse but doth it reach to that height which to looke on tires the eye by the way that pretious vault wherewith thou hast walled in this inferiour globe Heaven is high nine hundred miles upwards say some five hundred yeares journey say others who have calculated curiously is thy Mercy so can it ore-top this Pyramid He who said it could speake it without an Hyperbole Thy mercy O LORD is in the Heavens Psal. 36. it than equals them for site here but it transcends them there is 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 now Thy mercy is great above the heavens Psal. 108. the whole world is a huge to me and volume of these mercies a large Map of them an Abstract and Epitome of all was one Israel they were abrig'd into that litle table one Iacob his portion we have their catalogue drawne up by Moses He kept him as the Apple of his eye he bore him on his wings as an Eagle he gave him the increase of the fields he made him suck honey out of the rocke fed him with butter of kine and milke of sheepe with fat of Lambs and Rams of the breed of Bashan May I speake it to the conscience of every one here who hath not tasted and seene that the LORD is good Psal. 34. 8. whom amongst vs hath He not drawne with the coards of men the bands of love as He did his Owne in Hosea we sit every man under his own vine and beake our selves in the Sun-shine of an Halcion peace the red sea of warre is dried to our feet nor see we the garments roul'd in blood we eate the finest of the wheate flower our presses burst with new wine our garners are full of store our bones of marrow our bellies of GODS hid treasures our vines hang full of clusters our meadowes shoote up their grasse our vallies are covered over with corne they shoote for joy and sing we cannot say as the Prince of the Apostles silver
and gold have we none we can as Pindarus did of the citie Rhodes the King of the gods 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 every tide waves in rich Ore unto us and every way showers of mercy distill on our heads more pretious than those dewes of Hermon which fell upon the hils of Sion these are blessed knocking 's if they miscarry will GOD leave us so no He will knock more sharply yet with a more smarting blow by His Afflictions these are knocks of mercy too if we surveigh aright Them or our Selves First Them they are indeed the stroakes of justice properly as a reall Sermon by which GOD doth preach unto us the vilenesse of our sins and His loathing of them they are eventually a pawne of love for as those floods rise so with them the Arke of the Church is more lifted up to Heaven by these rough rocks as Ionatthan to the garrison of the Philistins the Saints climbe up as by staires to glory crosses are rough and pricklie they are waters of marah as draughts of Hemlock to an unhallowed pallat but there is an unction of joy that supples them them to the godly honey is suckt by them from these thistles and now here is Sampsons riddle without a mistery Out of the eater comes meate and out of the strong comes sweet that Absynthium which smarts our eye cleares it and we thank that paine which gives us sight the way to cleanse thy sore may bee to launce and tent it to the quick and to dead thy festring flesh thou bidst a free welcome even to searings and cauteries to purge out my grosse humours I ask not for sugred but working potions nor will I distast their bitternesse though intermingled with gall he shall die without my pittie who will languish rather under a wilfull sicknesse than venture on a harsh remedie A sound body may house a crazie soule and 't is a rare one that hath not some notable maladie One swels with a tympany of pride that reeles with the staggers of drunkennesse this rots with a consumption of envie tother thirsts with a dropsie of Avarice in many the whole heart is sicke crosses are our best medicines what if their relish displease us it is enough that they are soveraigne though not savoury if they are wholesome why are we squeamish who loves his tast above his health may hee be diseas'd still Secondly sift we our selves and those knocking 's which go against the graine weigh how they work to our good and how in them GOD doth crosse us with a blessing Nihil infaelicius eo cui nihil unquam evenit adversi it was the Heroicall voice of Demetrius saith Seneca never to be miserable is the greatest unhappinesse should Prosperity alwaies cast sweetning dewes in his face should a smooth gale ever fill his sailes what an elated meteor would man grow to how would this Colosse ore-stradle the world Alexander if he be Great some flatterers of his court and these burs still cleave to the coates of greatnesse will intitle him to immortality and say he is a god we are easily befool'd to an over-valuing of our selves so was he untill wounded with a dart Anaxarchas askes him Laertius himselfe in Plutarch tels those about him this is not 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Such a juice as drops from the veines of the gods As mens pompe so their mindes rise these are higher as that is more lackey'd how can it be full sea in the thoughts if the ebb be low in the state or to whom the world is imbitter'd will they suck vanity from her breasts this knockes at the rich mans doore nor lies it on a pad of straw but a bed of downe Ease slayeth the foolish it pufs up this bladder of winde if plenty waft in a high tide to him and but what is in those Aires the world fan's on his cheekes other happinesse he knowes none what more endeeres our home unto us than our wants abroad as but for the enterchange of cold winter who would long for the spring though for ornament the most gorgeous season of the yeare the Prodigall when he feedes on husks than thinkes on his Fathers house as at the thought of Aegypt and her flesh-pots Israel loaths Canaan it selfe where do our desires breathe so short of Heaven as where Vsury sits wrapt in furs where bravery failes in tissues and embroideries where opulencie showres downe in fleeces of gold where honours fawne and all things flow in an over prosperous abundance such a wretchednesse it is to be too happy Minutius beares away the palme of a glorious victory and all Rome ecchoes as one Theatour in his praises Fabius his wise Colleague than feares him most and most justly for said that famous Oratour in a more famous Senate the Areopage at Athens 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Insolency is lodged under a high-built fortune your sober minde in one low roofe pride is usually the child of riches and in the seate of honour sits hautinesse 't is the misery of meane ones not to bee thought men and 't is the misery of great ones not to thinke there is a GOD Ephraim not accustomed to the yoake may turne the heele but Israel being smitten seekes after GOD early Davids sweetest songs were his lachrymae this Saint in a tempest how crest-fallen in his devotion when he lies at hull at home and therefore it is good for me that I was in trouble it was good for Naaman that he was a Leaper but by his leaprosie he had not knowne Elisha nor GOD but by his Prophet it was good for Paul that he had 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 a stub in the flesh hee might through his heavenly rapture have beene enamour'd on himselfe but for those corasives of sharpe buffetings Even the worst men may be made good by sufferings they make the good happy and so expect not their patience onely but cheerefullnesse Every bird can chirpe it in a temperate Aire give me those notes are carol'd in the midst of a storme not an Epicures spleene but claps his wanton sides in the midst of his jollity but O that inimaginable joy of Martyrs which made them sing at the stake never repine we let them glad us rather at those beatings which humble us here to exalt us hereafter the rod is worthy to be kist which doth lash out our folly if therefore the sound of thy Word pearce not my dull eares if I speake not at the ravishing knock of thy blessings knock on till I not heare but smart but still in Mercy O LORD and not in judgement and this is GODS fourth way of Knocking Fourthly GOD knocketh by His Judgements whether at the next doore or our owne First if at the next His stroakes there are caveats to us if others are beate thou art warn'd Sodome and those cities of the plaine which were mixt with cloudes of pitch and heapes of Ashes