ing
oven, (so Pierius in his Hieroglyph, compares it) another hell. Our
conscience, which is a great ledger book, wherein are written all our
offences, a register to lay them up, (which those [6717]Egyptians in their
hieroglyphics expressed by a mill, as well for the continuance, as for the
torture of it) grinds our souls with the remembrance of some precedent
sins, makes us reflect upon, accuse and condemn our own selves. [6718]"Sin
lies at door," &c. I know there be many other causes assigned by Zanchius,
[6719]Musculus, and the rest; as incredulity, infidelity, presumption,
ignorance, blindness, ingratitude, discontent, those five grand miseries in
Aristotle, ignominy, need, sickness, enmity, death, &c.; but this of
conscience is the greatest, [6720]_Instar ulceris corpus jugiter
percellens_: The scrupulous conscience (as [6721]Peter Forestus calls it)
which tortures so many, that either out of a deep apprehension of their
unworthiness, and consideration of their own dissolute life, "accuse
themselves and aggravate every small offence, when there is no such cause,
misdoubting in the meantime God's mercies, they fall into these
inconveniences." The poet calls them [6722]furies dire, but it is the
conscience alone which is a thousand witnesses to accuse us, [6723] _Nocte
dieque suum gestant in pectore testem_. A continual tester to give in
evidence, to empanel a jury to examine us, to cry guilty, a persecutor with
hue and cry to follow, an apparitor to summon us, a bailiff to carry us, a
serjeant to arrest, an attorney to plead against us, a gaoler to torment, a
judge to condemn, still accusing, denouncing, torturing and molesting. And
as the statue of Juno in that holy city near Euphrates in [6724]Assyria
will look still towards you, sit where you will in her temple, she stares
full upon you, if you go by, she follows with her eye, in all sites,
places, conventicles, actions, our conscience will be still ready to accuse
us. After many pleasant days, and fortunate adventures, merry tides, this
conscience at last doth arrest us. Well he may escape temporal punishment,
[6725]bribe a corrupt judge, and avoid the censure of law, and flourish for
a time; "for [6726]who ever saw" (saith Chrysostom) "a covetous man
troubled in mind when he is telling of his money, an adulterer mourn with
his mistress in his arms? we are then drunk with pleasure, and perceive
nothing:" yet as the prodigal son had dainty fare, sweet music at first