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<DATE>2008-07-29</DATE>
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<NAME>Olivia Bottum</NAME>
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<TEXT LANG="eng">
<FRONT>
<DIV1 TYPE="title page">
<PB REF="1">
<PB REF="1" MS="y">
<P>An HISTORICAL ANATOMY Of CHRISTIAN MELANCHOLY, Sympathetically &s;et forth, In a three|fold &s;tate of the &s;oul. 1 <HI>Endued with Grace,</HI> 2 <HI>En&s;nared in Sin,</HI> 3 <HI>Troubled in Con&s;cience.</HI></P>
<P>With a Concluding MEDITATION On the Fourth Ver&s;e of the Ninth Chapter of Saint JOHN.</P>
<P>By EDMUND GREGORY, &s;ometimes Bachelour of Arts in <HI>Trin.</HI> Coll. <HI>Oxon.</HI></P>
<P><HI>London,</HI> Printed for <HI>Humphrey Mo&s;eley,</HI> and are to be &s;old at his &s;hop, at the &s;igne of the Prince's Arms in <HI>Pauls</HI> Church-yard. 1646.</P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="frontispiece">
<PB REF="2">
<P><FIGURE>
<HEAD>EDMUNDI GREGORII VERA EFFIGIES AETATIS SUAE AN^o TRICESIMO PRIMO AN^o 1646.</HEAD>
<L><HI>Even now I was not, and ere long I mu&s;t:</HI></L>
<L><HI>From what thou &s;eest, againe returne to Dust.</HI></L>
<L><HI>Gaze not on this poor<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> earthly &s;hade of mine;</HI></L>
<L><HI>But read the &s;ub&s;tance which is more Divine.</HI></L>
<P><HI>W. Mar&s;hall &s;culpsit</HI></P>
</FIGURE></P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="to the reader">
<PB REF="2" MS="y">
<GAP DESC="duplicate" EXTENT="1 page">
<PB REF="3">
<PB REF="3">
<HEAD>The AUTHOR'<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> Brief Directions To the READER.</HEAD>
<P>_LEt me obtain (loving Reader) this favour, that you take notice of the&s;e few Directi|ons in the peru&s;al of this little Book.</P>
<P><PB REF="4">
Fir&s;t, that the main Rule of my thoughts in the compiling hereof, hath been Experience; I &s;ay, The Experience out of divers particu|lars diligently (according to my poor skill) compri&s;ed together into one. And truely if, according to the Philo&s;opher, <HI>Experientia est op|tima Magi&s;tra,</HI> Eperience be our be&s;t Teacher, as al&s;o a chief guide in all our Divinity; doubtle&s;&s;e it is worth the labour &s;eriou&s;ly to mark it. Yet &s;ince that what I have written is not the Experience of all men, but of &s;ome (for who is able to finde out all the &s;ecre&s;ie of but one heart, much more of all hearts?) let it not, I pray, by any means of|fend you, if you chance to meet with that thing which concurs not with the Experience and Motion
<PB REF="4">
of your own &s;oul; for I intend nothing herein as a po&s;itive Do|ctrine or an ab&s;olute Rule: if any thing be generally true in all or mo&s;t men, be it &s;o; if not in tho&s;e things which are &s;trange to your &s;oul, let your Di&s;cretion be your better Direction: for you mu&s;t con&s;ider, that like an Anatomi&s;t I have cut up as well the Bre&s;t as the Head, and as well the Belly as the Bre&s;t: I have equally let out the foul and deformed parts that are in Man or Mankinde, as well as the fairer and better parts: Here is per|chance &s;omewhat of all &s;orts of men, and again &s;omething per|chance which di&s;agrees with mo&s;t men.</P>
<P>Secondly, for my expre&s;&s;ions, I have endeavoured to declare every
<PB REF="5">
particular herein in the fitte&s;t and mo&s;t naturally-agreeing terms (as neer as I could) according to the lively &s;en&s;e of the Truth, concei|ving a congruity of &s;peech to be the be&s;t eloquence; &s;hattering in al&s;o now and then an expre&s;&s;ion in Ver&s;e, to the end the &s;erious inten|tion of your minde may the more plea&s;antly run on in reading: for though my poor and humble Ver|&s;es adde perhaps but little orna|ment to the matter, yet &s;ince they do not at all interrupt the &s;en&s;e nor your thoughts with any long Parenthe&s;is, my hope is they may be delightful in their variety, though they be not in their elegan|cy. And whereas again I have ca&s;t my words into a &s;ympathetical and fellow-feeling Mould, the
<PB REF="5">
cau&s;e is, Partly for that mine own experience gives me good rea&s;on for it; and partly again, for that I conceive, <HI>Nihil humanani &agrave; me alie|num,</HI> No humane thing that be|longs to Mankinde to be &s;o &s;trange unto me, but that I may fitly &s;ympathize and &s;en&s;ibly concur with it. Saint <HI>Paul</HI> was <HI>all things unto all men; to the Jews, a Jew; to the Gentiles, a Gentile; to the &s;inners, a &s;inner,</HI> that he might work the more effect and comfort in all.</P>
<P>Thirdly, I &s;hal earne&s;tly de&s;ire, if your time and ability may conveni|ently &s;erve, that you will adde your own Experimental Ob&s;ervations hereunto, to the encrea&s;ing of this poor Book (if God &s;hall &s;o give
<PB REF="6">
his ble&s;&s;ing) into a larger Volume: for I could heartily wi&s;h that lear|ned men would &s;tudie Them&s;elves as well as their Books; would more &s;et forward in communicating their Experience, I &s;ay, the real Expe|rience of their Hearts, rather then the Imaginary notions of their Brains, to the publike u&s;e, for comfort and encrea&s;e of Know|ledge unto others.</P>
<P>La&s;tly, whereas I have laboured very much for Brevity, knitting up all things &s;hort and clo&s;e together, to the end I might not be tedious unto you; &s;o that it may be <HI>dum brevis e&s;&s;e labore ob&s;curus fio,</HI> while&s;t that I &s;trive to be brief, I become ob&s;cure, and the more dark to the apprehen&s;ion of him that readeth:
<PB REF="6">
My humble Reque&s;t therefore is, that you would be&s;towe, if not a repetition, at lea&s;twi&s;e the more heed and deliberation in reading: and as <HI>Eli&s;ha</HI> did in reviving the Widows Childe, &s;o let me be|&s;eech you to take this little Book up into your Chamber or Pri|vate Room, to &s;pread it before you, and to &s;tretch your &s;elf upon it, to apply the inner &s;hape and proportion of your hearts unto it; and &s;o by your Prayers unto God, to de&s;ire that you may finde a &s;oul and life in the reading of it, that it may &s;o animate in you, that it be not as a dead and alto|gether-unprofitable thing, which I al&s;o &s;hall ever pray for to the utmo&s;t of my power.</P>
<P><PB REF="7">
And thus for the pre&s;ent I take my leave, remaining</P>
<CLOSER><SIGNED>Yours,
E. G.</SIGNED></CLOSER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB REF="7">
<HEAD>The Author's POEM to Him&s;elf, on <HI>James</HI> 3. 17.</HEAD>
<LG>
<L>IF thou, my &s;oul, would&s;t true Religion &s;ee,</L>
<L>Lo, here in brief thou may'st re&s;olved be.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Wi&s;dom that de&s;cendeth from above, <NOTE PLACE="marg">Emblemati|zed thus.</NOTE></L>
<L>Is pure, as &s;aith S. <HI>Iames,</HI> and full of Love;</L>
<L>Mercy and Peace it doth extend to all,</L>
<L>Without deceit, and nothing partial.</L>
</LG>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>The Head.</SPEAKER>
<L>If &s;in be Folly, Madne&s;&s;e, want of Wit,</L>
<L>The Righteous then are wi&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> and mo&s;t di&s;creet.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Wi&s;edom.</SPEAKER>
<L>If Chri&s;t our Wi&s;edom came down from on hie,</L>
<L>All earthly knowledge is but vanitie.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>The Eyes.</SPEAKER>
<L>This Wi&s;edom's pure, and filleth us with light,</L>
<L>To tru&s;t in him who pa&s;&s;eth humane &s;ight.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Faith.</SPEAKER>
<L>This Wi&s;edom's pure, and pu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ifi'th the minde</L>
<L>From tho&s;e dark works which make the Con&s;cience blinde.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>The Hands.</SPEAKER>
<L>It &s;eek<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> Peace, it hateth to contend;</L>
<L>It's gentle, milde and loving to its friend.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Charity.</SPEAKER>
<L>With it, Forgivene&s;&s;e ea&s;ily is found;</L>
<L>In it, Compa&s;&s;ion doth to all abound.</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>The Feet.</SPEAKER>
<L>And all this Good it freely doth impart,</L>
<L>Without a pa<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">tial, p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">oud o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> grudging heart;</L>
</SP>
<SP>
<SPEAKER>Good mea|ning.</SPEAKER>
<L>Nor do<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">h Hypo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters">i&s;ie the&s;e Vertues kill,</L>
<L>With by re&s;p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">cts, or a Sini&s;ter will.</L>
</SP>
<LG>
<L>Here is Religion's Head, its Eyes, its Hands;</L>
<L>Here are tho&s;e Feet on which it firmly &s;tands.</L>
</LG>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="epigraph">
<PB REF="8">
<PB REF="8">
<P><FIGURE>
<HEAD><GAP DESC="foreign"></HEAD>
</FIGURE></P>
<P><HI>&rindx; E Coelo de&s;cendit</HI></P>
<P><GAP DESC="foreign">.</P>
<P>Know thy Self.</P>
<P>Ex tui Scienti&acirc;, fit Con&s;cientia.</P>
<Q><BIBL>JER. 17. 9.</BIBL>
The heart is deceitful above all things, and de&s;perately wicked: who can know it?</Q>
<P><GAP DESC="foreign">.</P>
<P>O thou that knowe&s;t the hearts of all men, <HI>Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right &s;pirit within me.</HI></P>
<Q>And I &s;aw the dead both great and &s;mall &s;tand before God: and the Books were opened, and another Book was opened, which is the Book of Life: and the dead were judged of tho&s;e things which were written in the Books, according to their works: <BIBL><HI>Revel.</HI> 20. 12.</BIBL></Q>
</DIV1>
</FRONT>
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="text">
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<PB REF="9">
<PB N="1" REF="9">
<HEAD>Of the Soul endued with Grace.</HEAD>
<P>_THe natural di&s;po&s;ition and temper of man being much addicted to Melan|choly, will be apt in very childhood to make our apprehen&s;ion lay cares and &s;adne&s;&s;e neer our heart, to delight our &s;elves in &s;olitarine&s;&s;e, and to &s;pend the time in Soliloquies and private Specu|lations: even &s;o much may nature be enclin'd to the&s;e exerci&s;es of Contemplation and &s;uch fictions of Phancie, that many an hour &s;hall we &s;acrifice to this our genius; gladly &s;eparating our &s;elves from Company, and picking out what time we can &s;pare for this purpo&s;e. The&s;e Con|templations with which our Chri&s;tian thoughts will be thus aff<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">cted, are chiefly grounded at fir&s;t on the familiar objects of Sen&s;e, and rai&s;ed to &s;ome divine and heavenly purpo&s;e; either &s;hall we be &s;oaring up to the con&s;iderati|on of the glorious magnificence of tho&s;e more excellent Creatures, the Sun, the Moon, the Stars; or hovering low|er upon the delightful variety of Bea&s;ts, of Fowls, of Fi|&s;hes, upon the &s;trange diver&s;ity of Nations, of Countreys and Kingdoms; again another while perchance we &s;hall be conver&s;ing with God by magnifying his greatne&s;&s;e; as thus: <HI>O Lord our Governour, how excellent is thy Name in all the world! thou that ha&s;t &s;et thy glory above the heavens:</HI> or by admiring his mercy; as thus: <HI>Thy mercy, O Lord, reach|eth unto the heavens, and thy faithfulne&s;&s;e unto the clouds:</HI> or expo&s;tulating with him concerning Mankinde; as thus:
<PB N="2" REF="10">
<HI>Oh remember how &s;hort our time is: wherefore had thou made all men for nought?</HI> Our thoughts this way will be u&s;ually very deep, very &s;erious and earne&s;t; and we &s;hall be af|fected with them to the life, in&s;omuch that they will of|ten provoke in us the pa&s;&s;ion of grief with tears of joy, with exceeding cheerfulne&s;&s;e of minde, even according to that pathetical affection of <HI>David,</HI> when he &s;aid, <HI>My lips will be feyn when I &s;ing unto thee, and &s;o will my &s;oul,</HI> &amp;c. We &s;hall, I &s;ay, be &s;erious, even &s;o &s;erious and entirely bent to tho&s;e &s;weet Melancholy thoughts, and &s;o affe|ctionately moved with them, that we &s;hall &s;carce ever think our &s;elves truely and really recreated, but whil&s;t we are thus meditating on religious matter, and exerci|&s;ing our thoughts in &s;uch heavenly notions.</P>
<LG>
<L>Here lies our Love, our Dear, and onely One:</L>
<L>Here's our life's Joy; here 'tis, and here alone.</L>
</LG>
<P>Here, I &s;ay, lie the joy and &s;weetne&s;&s;e of our life; and that, fir&s;t, becau&s;e nature doth di&s;po&s;e us to a more re|tired &s;eriou&s;ne&s;&s;e of minde; and &s;urely no delight can be &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;weet as that towards which Nature &s;ets her help|ing hand. Secondly, for that u&s;e and practice in time d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> tutor up this &s;ympathy of nature into the grateful fa|cility of an habit; and then if the habit of that which agrees not with nature, be mo&s;t times &s;o lovingly marri|ed to the affections, that it can hardly be left; how plea|&s;ing mu&s;t that needs be which concur<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> with nature! Thirdly, for that this heavenly object is beyond mea&s;ure unparallel'd fo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;weetne&s;&s;e, <HI>Sweeter,</HI> as <HI>David</HI> hath it, <HI>even then the honey and the honey comb.</HI></P>
<P>The Meditations of God do many times ravi&s;h our narrow &s;ouls with un&s;peakable Comfort, and drive us into a exta&s;ie of amazement for joy: we &s;hall think &s;ometimes to our &s;elves, What an happine&s;&s;e is this, that the God of heaven and earth &s;hould &s;o familiarly communicate him&s;elf to &s;uch vile creatures as we; that he &s;hould grant us &s;uch illumination of minde, &s;uch joy of &s;pirit? &s;urely we would not, leave it for the whole
<PB N="3" REF="10">
world; and it is better unto us then thou&s;ands of gold and &s;ilver. Well, Joy and &s;orrow do take their turns: and there is no perfect happine&s;&s;e in this life.</P>
<LG>
<L>We that were mounted up but now,</L>
<L>Among&s;t the Stars to dwell,</L>
<L>Anon de&s;cend as much below,</L>
<L>Even to the gates of hell.</L>
</LG>
<P>As we are rai&s;ed up, I may &s;ay with Saint <HI>Paul, unto</HI> this <HI>third heaven,</HI> this more then thrice happie Condition of Joy; &s;o is there al&s;o given us our fatal portion of mi&s;ery, <HI>a thorn in the fle&s;h;</HI> a thorn of &s;in which doth as &s;hrewdly prick us with &s;orrow, as ever we were tickled with delight; the &s;owrne&s;&s;e of <HI>Eve</HI>'s apple will not be put out of our ta&s;te: be we never &s;o &s;piritual, we can|not but be &s;ubject unto &s;in: I &s;ay &s;in, and I may &s;ay &s;ins too; &s;in, as intimating onely &s;ome &s;pecial ones, in par|ticular; and &s;ins, as denoting a multiplicity of them in the general: for as for many of us, peradventure we are more indifferently prone and &s;ubject unto all kindes and &s;orts of iniquity: there is almo&s;t no &s;in, no perver&s;e|ne&s;&s;e and impiety, but that we have a &s;trong ta&s;te there|of in our &s;ouls: But mo&s;t of us, I &s;ay mo&s;t of us in particular, are troubled with &s;ome pricking &s;in, &s;ome thorn or other above the re&s;t, &s;ome naturally-enclin'd enormity of our inner man; and the&s;e, the&s;e darling and intimate &s;ins of ours, what&s;oever they be, do always, as we may ob&s;erve, in an eminent manner cry down the re&s;t, do with more violence haunt us, and with more fre|quency overwhelm us; &s;o that we &s;hall hardly long be free from them. Ordinary and weakly di&s;po&s;ed &s;ins may perhaps be &s;wallowed down with ea&s;e; but the&s;e extraordinary and deep-rooted ones do &s;tick clo&s;e and fa&s;t in the Con&s;cience: our other &s;ins for the mo&s;t part we may pretty well dige&s;t in oblivion; but this &s;in, this our familiar and bo&s;om-&s;in, is &s;o hearty a &s;in, always with &s;o full a de&s;ire, and therefore &s;o palpably gro&s;&s;e to our apprehen&s;ion, that it con&s;tantly leaves behinde it a
<PB N="4" REF="11">
Memento of &s;hame to our outward man, and the &s;ting of &s;adne&s;&s;e to our inner &s;oul. When it is pa&s;t and gone, we &s;hall finde our Con&s;ciences wounded with di&s;mayedne&s;&s;e, and our hearts drooping with grief; &s;uch &s;owre &s;auce hath this &s;eeming plea&s;ure; &s;uch a &s;ting in the tail hath this flattering Serpent; a &s;ting it is which, as I &s;ay, without que&s;tion we are &s;ufficiently &s;en&s;ible of; we can mo&s;t duely and tenderly feel the hurt it doth us; and yet for all that, when it comes too, it doth &s;o &s;trongly charm and bewitch our rea&s;on, that all the power that is in us is pre&s;ently di&s;&s;olved, and we are no way able to with&s;tand it: the deceitful bait of plea&s;ure maketh us &s;uddenly to &s;wallow down the Bane, and then, though like that Book in the <HI>Revelation,</HI> it be <HI>&s;weet in the mouth</HI> to commit it, yet is it <HI>bitter in the belly,</HI> exceeding bitter, even as Wormwood: See <HI>Prov.</HI> 5. 4. Sin doth us no great harm whil&s;t we look to it in time: though it bring with it a &s;adne&s;&s;e and a &s;ting unto our Con&s;ciences; yet as long as within three or four days, or a week, we do vent out this &s;adne&s;&s;e into tears, with true Compunction, and pull out again this &s;ting by the hand of Repentance, we feel no danger unto our &s;elves. When we are in &s;in, our under&s;tanding is as it were in a cloud, and our affections cold and dull; but the return of Gods favour again, will appear unto us as the Sun di&s;per&s;ing with his brightne&s;&s;e the clouds of ignorance, and enflaming with his heat the coldne&s;&s;e of affection: &s;o true finde we that which our Saviour &s;peaks of him&s;elf in Saint <HI>John: I am the light of the world: he that followeth me, &s;hall not walk in darkne&s;&s;e, but &s;hall have the light of life. In darkne&s;&s;e,</HI> that is, the darkne&s;&s;e of &s;in: <HI>but &s;hall have the light of life,</HI> that is, that living light which quickens the heart unto goodne&s;&s;e, and enliveneth the affections. Enliveneth the affections</P>
<LG>
<L>With cheerful thoughts, with nimble active love;</L>
<L>With flames of zeal which never cea&s;e to move:</L>
</LG>
<P>to move upwards, and give their humble attendance up|on the Almighty.</P>
<P><PB N="5" REF="11">
In the act of Repentance, we &s;hall as it were throw down our &s;elves before God with a filial remor&s;e and melting &s;orrow for our offence, &s;omtimes ca&s;ting an eye upon the exceeding vilene&s;&s;e of our &s;in, and then weep|ing, and grieving, and vexing our &s;elves, that we &s;hould be creatures &s;o wretched as to commit that, which, though there were no God to obey, not Law to tran&s;|gre&s;&s;e, yet a man would be a&s;hamed and &s;corn to do: &s;omtimes ca&s;ting an eye to con&s;ider, not &s;o much what it is in it &s;elf, as again&s;t whom; and then it is ten times grief, to think that we &s;hould &s;o highly offend him that hath always been &s;o good, &s;o loving, and, as I may &s;ay &s;o, too much merciful unto us; that we &s;hould di&s;plea&s;e him who&s;e infinite goodne&s;&s;e is more then that we are able in the lea&s;t degree to de&s;erve, though we &s;hould with all the veins of our hearts continually obey him; counting it a mo&s;t tender thing to grieve him which hath vouch&s;afed us to be as dear unto him&s;elf as the very ap|ple of his eye.</P>
<P>We &s;hall, I &s;ay, weep, and grieve, and vex our &s;elves: for it is to be noted, that we do &s;eldom finde the true and effectual comfort of Repentance without tears: when the eye can kindly run down with &s;treams of water, then doth our heart begin to feel ea&s;e, then doth that burden begin to be light, which before was &s;o heavie; and then will the light of grace begin to &s;hine in upon our &s;ouls, and kindle our affections with that zeal of <HI>David, P&s;al.</HI> 86. 11. <HI>O knit my &s;oul, knit it fa&s;ter unto thee, that I may fear thy Name.</HI> Many times thus in the pa&s;&s;ion of our &s;ouls are we &s;o overjoyed, as it were, at the return of Gods fa|vour, that we could even &s;uffer our hearts to be pluckt out of our brea&s;ts to offer them up in devotion unto him: and therefore now do we lift up our &s;ouls with &s;uch a &s;ervent de&s;ire of better obedience, that hence|forth it &s;eemeth not enough for us to go or walk, but we mu&s;t <HI>run the way of thy Commandments, O Lord, &s;ince thou <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">a&s;t thus &s;et our hearts at liberty.</HI></P>
<P><PB N="6" REF="12">
<HI>To hang down the head like a bulru&s;h,</HI> I&s;ai. 58. 8, and to be covered with the &s;ackcloth of dejection for our &s;ins, this verily is not the main; this is but the out&s;ide and be|ginning of Repentance:</P>
<LG>
<L>It onely doth before prepare the way,</L>
<L>Telling &s;ome news of the approaching day.</L>
</LG>
<P>A lively re&s;olution of the heart to redeem the time, this is the &s;oul and reality thereof. Repentance is but dead, without a lively heart: and &s;urely it never doeth us good, till it thus come unto the quick.</P>
<P>Well now, when the Almighty hath thus breathed in|to our &s;ouls this breath of life, then doth our hope revive again in the confidence of pardon, and then al&s;o &s;hall we be &s;o &s;en&s;ibly affected with Gods infinite mer|cies towards us, that the&s;e his mercies, like tho&s;e <HI>bands of love,</HI> Ho&s;. 11. 4, do tye us far more to his obedience then before; all the faculties of both body &amp; &s;oul do &s;eem too little for us to do him &s;ervice with, that &s;o in &s;ome mea|&s;ure we may requite his love in forgiving, by our love in obeying; the more God forgives us, the more we do always love him: &s;o that we may ju&s;tly witne&s;&s;e the truth of that which our Saviour &s;aith, <HI>To whom God hath forgiven much, he will love him much.</HI> This love of God doth u&s;ually rai&s;e in us a holy indignation again&s;t &s;in, to hate, to abhor, and as it were trample it under our feet, ma|king us zealou&s;ly to take part with God again&s;t our &s;elves, who have thus took part with &s;in again&s;t God; and therefore &s;hall we be ready to enjoyn a kinde of penance to our &s;ouls, and to execute in Gods behalf a revenge upon our &s;elves, &s;o that if it were po&s;&s;ible, we might give him a due recompence and &s;atisfaction for our offence.</P>
<P>The effect of Repentance is, That we &s;hall feel our con&s;ciences &s;atisfied, our hearts at re&s;t, and our &s;elves joyfully at one with God again; and then will our &s;oul make her boa&s;t of the Lord, that <HI>h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> hath put a new &s;ong in|to our mouthes,</HI> even a &s;ong of thank&s;giving for this great
<PB N="7" REF="12">
deliverance, according to that of <HI>David; O Lord, thou ha&s;t been exceeding gracious unto us wherefore as for our &s;oul, it &s;hall be talking of thy righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e and of thy prai&s;e all the day long.</HI> We cannot cea&s;e, I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>We cannot cea&s;e from morn till night</L>
<L>thy goodne&s;&s;e to &s;et forth:</L>
<L>O Lord, 'tis now our whole delight</L>
<L>to wonder at thy worth.</L>
</LG>
<P>Thus a while are we full of prai&s;es and thank&s;giving unto God. And now then with &s;uch a &s;trong and powerful confidence in him, do we go on in our wonted cour&s;e of divine Meditations, that our thoughts do as it were &s;corn the earth, being like <HI>Elijah</HI> in the fiery charet of zeal mounted up to dwell in heaven onely, and in heavenly things: our Phancie will be all for the high and lofty &s;peculations of God, of Chri&s;t, of Eternity, of the World to come, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> The private lea&s;ure and holy &s;ilence of the minde fro<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> outward things, giveth &s;uch advantage to the &s;oul to flee upwards, that for the pre&s;ent we are even D<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ified with the&s;e glorious objects, and are become Saint-like in our thoughts: but when it comes down again to the practick part, for the conver&s;ation of ourlives; when the&s;e Speculations are to be actuated into a good behaviour; lo, then it proves that there is nothing at all in us of Saints, no not &s;carce of men, or at lea&s;twi&s;e, of very weak and frail men: then all that we can do, is but to de&s;ire to keep our &s;elves from &s;in, or to be unwilling to enter into tem|ptation; that, that for the mo&s;t part, is the furthe&s;t we do proceed&punc; but to with&s;tand, and vanqui&s;h, or put off &s;in, are we &s;eldom able in the le<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;t degree and there|fore we may well a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">k the que&s;tion with Saint <HI>Paul, Who &s;hall deliver us from this body of</HI> fin? &s;ince the highe&s;t peri|od of &s;trength tha<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> we do here attain unto, is able to do little, even &s;o little, that I may ju&s;tly &s;ay it is but as the &s;hadow of &s;omthing rather then anything and indeed al|together, as it were, nothing in reality, though &s;omthing
<PB N="8" REF="13">
in intention. Well, now being in the &s;tate of Repen|tance, we can carefully take heed of the lea&s;t &s;ins, di|recting our conver&s;ation in a more elevated and &s;teady cour&s;e then u&s;ual, as conceiving our &s;elves to lie open to the awful view of an Omnipotent and mo&s;t glorious Deity: as al&s;o, we can more duely humble our &s;elves, and pray before him with a fervent, with a lively earne&s;tne&s;&s;e and confidence of obtaining: For fir&s;t, the abundant ex|perience of Gods great love towards us, together with that loving affection which we feel in our hearts towards him again, breeds a kinde of union and friend&s;hip be|twixt God and our &s;ouls, and this union begets a tru&s;t and confidence in him, and then this confidence doth fully per&s;wade us that we &s;hall prevail with him in any thing, &s;o that it be be&s;t for us to obtain it; I &s;ay, Be&s;t for us, that is, for our good, though not always to our liking: our Prayers, verily 'tis &s;it they &s;hould be confi|dent; but they may not be ob&s;tinate and &s;elf-will'd: Nature doth u&s;e to take it har&s;h not to have her de&s;ire granted; but <HI>David</HI>'s re&s;olution in <HI>P&s;al.</HI> 39, will at length pretty well &s;atisfie her: <HI>I became dumb, and open|ed not my mouth: for it was thy doing: For it was thy doing,</HI> that's the rea&s;on to &s;top our mouthes, and hold us con|tented: And 'tis our Saviours rea&s;on and re&s;olution in <HI>Matth.</HI> 36. 39: <HI>Neverthele&s;&s;e not as I will, but as thou wilt.</HI> Gods will, we are &s;ure, is far better then ours, and therefore good rea&s;on it is that ours &s;hould in all pati|ence and humility be ruled by his: better it is in his care; for he hath a greater care over us then we can have of our &s;elves; and better in his wi&s;edom and fore|knowledge; for he knoweth far better what is good for us then we know for our &s;elves.</P>
<LG>
<L>Our &s;inful wills do &s;eldom aim aright;</L>
<L>Lord give us what is fitting in thy &s;ight.</L>
</LG>
<P>What thy good will and plea&s;ure is, and we are con|tented.</P>
<P>Again, as we have &s;uch a &s;ubmi&s;&s;ive tru&s;t and confi|dence
<PB N="9" REF="13">
of ob<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="3 letters">ning in Prayer, &s;o are we always more affectionately apprehen&s;ive of what we do pray, then in the time of &s;in; our thoughts can go along and keep turn with the words of our Prayers: at the confe&s;&s;i|on of &s;ins, &s;hall we feel our &s;elves pre&s;&s;ed with the burden of our wretchedne&s;&s;e: at the Petitions of grace, our &s;oul will be athir&s;t after the living God: <HI>Oh when &s;hall we be &s;atisfied with the fulne&s;&s;e of his mercies!</HI> at Thank&s;giving for his Ble&s;&s;ings, our heart doth as it were run over with the abundance of his loving-kind|ne&s;&s;e: <HI>Even &s;o hath thy Mercies embraced us on every &s;ide, that who can &s;et forth thy prai&s;e, O Lord, or declare the good|ne&s;&s;e that thou ha&s;t done for our &s;ouls?</HI> Thus, I &s;ay, we can now keep our thoughts neerer to the &s;en&s;e in pray|er then at other times; and yet we &s;hall finde it, at the be&s;t time of our Devotion, very difficult to keep our in|tention clo&s;e to it any long while, &s;pecially in Publike praying: for do what we can, ever and anon our mindes will be &s;liding away from the matter in hand, and dreaming upon other imaginations; at lea&s;t, &s;ome other thoughts on the &s;udden do come athwart us, and put us from the &s;en&s;e: &s;o that &s;eldom do we hold our intenti|on &s;teady upon it thorowout a whole Prayer, unle&s;&s;e it be very &s;hort: For we may here pertinently take notice that &s;in is &s;o naturally rooted in us and all Mankinde, that 'tis a very hard task (if with due inward &s;ilence we ob&s;erve it in our &s;elves) to keep our &s;ecret thoughts within compa&s;&s;e even whil&s;t the eye of Con&s;cience is mo&s;t watchful: I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>Even whil&s;t the Star of Jacob &s;hines mo&s;t bright</L>
<L>In us, to purge away the dark of night.</L>
</LG>
<P>So that it was no marvel <HI>David</HI> &s;aid that <HI>the righteous man falleth &s;even times a day,</HI> whenas there is &s;eldom an hour in the day, even in the pure&s;t condition of our life (&s;pecially if we have any concernment to be con|ver&s;ant in outward affairs) I &s;ay, &s;carce an hour wherein extravagant and unlawful imaginations or de&s;ires do not
<PB N="10" REF="14">
mo&s;t thru&s;t them&s;elves into the minde&punc; which though perhaps indeed the awaking care of Con&s;cience, by Gods help, doth quickly check out again with &s;hame in the&s;e or the like motions of di&s;like, as, <HI>Fie, tis not right, God forbid;</HI> yet the Corruption of nature hereby &s;hew|eth it &s;elf to be always active in us, though it doth not now prevail as it would.</P>
<P><HI>O Lord God, our be&s;t Condition in this world thou knowe&s;t is but as a night, in which thougb there be &s;ome light &s;hining with|in us, yet is there much more darkne&s;&s;e; and therefore our expe|rience methinks doth mo&s;t fitly and naturally Moralize that expre&s;&s;ion of thine concerning our Saviour,</HI> Numb. 24, <HI>where thou ha&s;t called him by thy holy Spirit</HI> The Star of Jacob, <HI>even as it were the day &s;tar of heaven ari&s;ing in our hearts; a &s;tar, and that befitting the night; and yet a &s;tar which &s;hineth to our Souls and Con&s;ciences with a ble&s;&s;ed light of joy and comfort; and &s;o, as Saint</HI> John <HI>with his Baptizing tears of Repen|tance, prepared the way for our Saviour to be entertained in the &s;ouls of men: &s;o, I &s;ay, the watery clouds of &s;orrow for &s;in pa&s;&s;|ing away from our re<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">enting &s;ouls, do unvayl our Saviour unto us, that Star and Light of divine grace, that he may &s;hine out again as the joyful Light of our Salvation. And O mo&s;t mer|ciful Saviour, thou that art here a Star unto us, a Day-&s;tar ap|pearing before the Sunri&s;ing be thou hereafter in heaven the Sun it &s;elf,</HI> the Sun of Righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e <HI>&s;hining in mo&s;t perfect glo|ry unto all Eternity.</HI></P>
<P>But to go on: Lo, the &s;weet Olive branches that this <HI>Noab</HI>'s Dove, Repentant reconciliation, bringeth in unto the &s;oul. It is &s;aid, <HI>Prov.</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">8. 1. That <HI>the righteo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"> are as bold as a Lion:</HI> Lord, who is there that can &s;ay he is righteous before thee, when as the very Angel are unclean in thy &s;ight? much more are we, the very be&s;t piece of who&s;e life is as a <HI>men&s;truous cloth,</HI> defiled with gro&s;&s;e imperfections: yet &s;ee! the neerer we draw on thereunto, the le&s;&s;e fearful we are: the terriblene&s;&s;e of thunder which according to the Poet</P>
<LG>
<L>Is apt with fear to &s;hake the mindes of men,</L>
<L><PB N="11" REF="14">
<HI>Ju&s;&s;it &amp; humanas motura-tonitrua mentes,</HI></L>
</LG>
<P>or the hideous examples of Gods Judgements, and the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ike; nay, even terrible death it &s;elf, which according to the Ancients is naturally <GAP DESC="foreign">, <HI>the mo&s;t terrible of all terrible things;</HI> all the&s;e with which we are wont to be affrighted, do not now &s;trike us with &s;o deep a pa&s;&s;ion of fear, nor go thorow our loyns with &s;uch a terrour; and that not at all becau&s;e of any deadne&s;&s;e of Con&s;cience, but out of the liveline&s;&s;e of faith: I &s;ay, <HI>Becau&s;e the Lord,</HI> as it is in <HI>P&s;al.</HI> 27, <HI>being our light and our &s;alvation,</HI> whom then methinks &s;hould we fear? the Lord being the <HI>&s;trength of our life,</HI> that is, the tru&s;t and confi|dence of our &s;ouls, of whom or of what &s;hould we be afraid?</P>
<P>Again, the Service of God leads us into that glorious liberty (which as I conceive Saint <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaks of) <HI>of the &s;ons of God.</HI> Fir&s;t, I mean that liberty whereby we feel our Con&s;ciences &s;et free from the doting &s;crupu|lo&s;ity of things unnece&s;&s;ary and indifferent, the which perchance at &s;ome other times we may be apt to &s;tick upon with perplexity. Secondly, I mean that liberty, we may call it The liberty of Obedience, which as it makes us willingly and freely to obey our betters, cau&s;e 'tis for Gods glory, who hath appointed the &s;ame, and 'cau&s;e 'tis for his glory to do him &s;ervice in it: &s;o again it makes us &s;o free in Spirit as not to &s;toop to any igno|ble or di&s;graceful &s;ervility; that is, with a ba&s;e and cow|ardly heart to yeeld our approbation in any unju&s;t &amp; in|direct cour&s;e, becau&s;e our Superiours either like or com|mand it; to <HI>call good evil,</HI> or <HI>evil good,</HI> for any cau&s;e what&s;o|ever: No, we have a warrant for it methinks in our &s;ouls, not to deny the Truth for the fear or love of the great|e&s;t or deare&s;t one in the world: for if we deny the Truth, we deny him that is greater and dearer unto us then any can be be&s;ides, even God him&s;elf; for <HI>God is Truth,</HI> &s;aith Saint <HI>John:</HI> And &s;urely he that is in &s;ubjection to <HI>father or mother,</HI> as our Saviour &s;aith, or even unto any other
<PB N="12" REF="15">
Creature, more then unto God, <HI>is not worthy of</HI> him. Many times this free &s;pirit is apt to degenerate into a firy &s;pirit; &s;o that in &s;tead of a moderate u&s;e of the liberty of truth towards Superiours, &s;hall we be ready to fall into a ra&s;h and di&s;obedient humour again&s;t them. <HI>Jo|ab</HI>'s dealing with King <HI>David,</HI> 1 Chron. 21. 3, is a &s;ingular example to be followed in this kinde; that is, to be &s;o freely faithful unto our Betters, as not to flatter or back them on in that which is evil; and yet <HI>(not u&s;ing our Liberty as a cloke of Maliciou&s;ne&s;&s;e)</HI> &s;o lovingly re|&s;pectful, as not to contradict their power with an un|di&s;creet and churli&s;h impatiency. Moreover, this our fore&s;aid unity and reconciliation with God, crowneth our &s;ouls with many happie and rare advantages; but &s;pecially in this, that it maketh our &s;pirits chearful, merry and full of rejoycing: a good Con&s;cience is as <HI>a continual fea&s;t,</HI> wherein we are &s;atisfied with all good things, <HI>as with marrow and fatne&s;&s;e;</HI> and therefore mo&s;t fitly hath our Saviour named the holy Gho&s;t a <HI>Comforter: And be &s;hall give you another Comforter,</HI> Joh. 14. 16. A Comforter, and truely &s;o: for how can &s;adne&s;&s;e take fa&s;t hold in that bre&s;t where this heavenly joy and comfort doth a|bide? Thus for a &s;ea&s;on do we flouri&s;h in the &s;tate of reconciliation, flouri&s;h like an herb nouri&s;hed with the dew of heaven, or <HI>like the tree,</HI> in <HI>Davids</HI> P&s;alms, <HI>planted by the waters &s;ide,</HI> the flowing river of Gods mercies. And now</P>
<LG>
<L>And now perchance that we have &s;pent &s;ome days,</L>
<L>Or el&s;e &s;ome weeks in the&s;e more &s;acred ways,</L>
</LG>
<P>we mu&s;t begin to take an unwilling farewel of this our happine&s;&s;e: for by this time, that heart and courage again&s;t &s;in which we have got by Repentance, doth flag, grow le&s;&s;e and le&s;&s;e and decay, till we are defiled therewith as before: the drowzie eye by little and lit|tle falls a&s;leep it knows not how; and were it not for the awaking again, 'twould &s;carce perceive whether it had &s;lept or no: &s;o, even &s;o, in&s;en&s;ibly doth &s;in creep
<PB N="13" REF="15">
on, and &s;o &s;ubtilly get within us, that we can never al|mo&s;t feel it, till the &s;ting thereof hath awaken our con|&s;ciences unto Repentance. And then again perceiving the wickedne&s;&s;e of our hearts, and the foul enormity of &s;in, &s;hall we in the bitterne&s;&s;e of our &s;ouls, and de|te&s;tation of our iniquities, humble our &s;elves even be|lowe the du&s;t of the earth, accounting us not worthy to be the vile&s;t creatures under the cope of heaven, that have been &s;o wickedly perfidious again&s;t our Creator; and therefore do we con&s;ider and earne&s;tly re&s;olve for the pre&s;ent, if it will plea&s;e him once more, even this once more to forgive us this our &s;in; &s;urely methinks all the devils in hell &s;hould not prevail to overtake us &s;o again: for this doth always touch us neere&s;t and trouble us mo&s;t, that we are &s;o faithle&s;&s;e unto God, and &s;o full of hypocri&s;ie before him, that whereas at our la&s;t Repentance we had &s;o &s;yncerely, &s;o heartily and &s;o &s;eriou&s;ly promi&s;ed amendment of life, and al&s;o with our whole might and main to obey God and plea&s;e him; neverthele&s;&s;e, though our promi&s;e doth &s;eem to be never &s;o hearty, and with &s;o full a purpo&s;e, yet the end and event doth &s;hew that there is hypocri&s;ie in it, even great hypocri&s;ie: for when temptation comes, and &s;in is at hand, then do we fal&s;heartedly and cow|ardly, not onely not duly &s;trive again&s;t and re&s;i&s;t it, but even ba&s;ely yeeld unto it: So infirm is our be&s;t ability, that our Saviour hath wi&s;ely taught us to pray to God that he would not try our &s;trength with tem|ptation; <HI>O lead us not into <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">emptation.</HI> But our weak|ne&s;&s;e, or rather wickedne&s;&s;e, is yet greater, not onely in &s;o ea&s;ily &s;uffering temptation to prevail over us, but al&s;o in our readine&s;&s;e to joyn with it and help it for|wards, hugging the very fir&s;t motions thereof in our bre&s;ts: &s;o that we may &s;ay of our &s;ouls as <HI>David</HI> did of the wicked man, <HI>P&s;al.</HI> 50. 18, <HI>Thou no &s;ooner &s;awe&s;t</HI> that <HI>thief,</HI> &s;in, <HI>but thou con&s;ented&s;t with him, and ba&s;t been parta|ker,</HI> &amp;c. Nay, many times we do go one degree
<PB N="14" REF="16">
farther be&s;ides this hugging and ha&s;tie embracing of the evil motions of &s;in propo&s;ed unto us: I &s;ay, One degree farther, even by &s;eeking after temptation and inviting of outward means to beget &s;in within us; ju&s;t as tho&s;e of whom <HI>I&s;aiah</HI> &s;peaks, <HI>that draw iniquity with cords of va|nity, and &s;in as it were with a cart-rope.</HI> Well, notwith|&s;tanding,</P>
<LG>
<L>Though &s;in doth thus even dye our &s;ouls in grain,</L>
<L>Thy mercies, Lord, can purge out all the &s;tain.</L>
<L>Before thee we are '&s;ham'd to &s;hew our face;</L>
<L>But all our hope is in thy &s;aving grace.</L>
</LG>
<P>notwith&s;tanding, I &s;ay, the unhappie di&s;couragements of &s;in, we &s;hall embolden our &s;elves to offer up in this man|ner our re&s;olution unto the Lord. <HI>O merciful Father, if it would plea&s;e thee to pa&s;&s;e by our iniquities, and to forgive us this time, &s;ure now in good earne&s;t we will perform our words; we will certainly keep our promi&s;e, and &s;et our &s;elves more &s;yn|cerely to it then before: hitherto we have promi&s;ed well, but now will we do well; knowing verily, that it is not the &s;udden pa&s;&s;ion of a good de&s;ire that is &s;ufficient, but the con&s;tant habit of better Obedience: it is not enough to have the &s;hew of godline&s;&s;e in our Mouthes and bare Intentions, if we deny the true power and effect thereof in our Lives and Conver&s;ations. We will now therefore act out our intendment in the practice of Religion: what&s;oever hath been pa&s;t, we will now certainly be altogether in good ear|ne&s;t; there &s;hall nothing hinder us.</HI> Thus, even thus, &s;o eager, &s;o intentive, and &s;o earne&s;t &s;hall we be &s;omtimes, that we de&s;ire forgivene&s;&s;e from God on no other terms, but as he doth finde our amendment afterwards: we will even be dealt withal according to our good beha|viour; and not onely &s;o, but we &s;hall be ready to im|precate a revenge of our breach of promi&s;e with &s;ome due puni&s;hment upon our heads, and to expect from God no otherwi&s;e to be merciful unto us then as that we do approve our faithfulne&s;&s;e unto him.</P>
<P>And yet for all this, this utmo&s;t re&s;olution that may be, are we at no time as good as our word; I &s;ay, At
<PB N="15" REF="16">
no time can we thorowly with&s;tand &s;in; it always over|matcheth us; 'tis too &s;trong for us to deal with &s;in, &s;pe|cia<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ly of all the re&s;t, the &s;in of our nature, our darling and &s;weet a reeing &s;in: this therefore exceeding un|faithfulne&s;&s;e of ours, in that we do &s;o vehemently pro|mi&s;e that which we do never accordingly perform, doth at length methinks, at every time of our Repentance, bring us &s;o much the further out of credit with God; &s;o that we can hardly &s;ee how he &s;hould believe or forgive us any more, who have thus often dealt &s;o fal&s;ly with him: Neverthele&s;&s;e &s;in doth pre&s;&s;e us &s;o &s;ore, that we may not &s;it &s;till in quiet, till we get ea&s;e by Repen|tance.</P>
<LG>
<L>The Con&s;cience, like a &s;tomack that's di&s;pleas'd</L>
<L>With meats, doth vomit till &s;he can be eas'd.</L>
</LG>
<P>In this ca&s;e we &s;hall be very loth perchance, and al|together a&s;ham'd to come again into the pre&s;ence of God, as <HI>Adam</HI> was, in <HI>Gen.</HI> 3. 10; yet nece&s;&s;ity doth prick us forward; becau&s;e, <HI>O Lord, whither &s;hall we go from thy pre&s;ence to have any comfort in this our mi&s;ery? to thee there|fore mu&s;t we needs come, O thou Pre&s;erver of men:</HI> Nece&s;&s;ity I &s;av, &s;ets us forward, and at length &s;o often experience bringeth us to con&s;ider with our &s;elves, and thus to clo&s;e our judgement more neer to the matter, that &s;ince there mu&s;t needs be &s;omthing el&s;e in it be&s;ides the &s;ecret hy|pocri&s;ie of our own hearts, why &s;o many promi&s;es &s;hould vani&s;h in the air, &s;o many promi&s;es which for th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> pre&s;ent we cannot perceive but that they do come mo&s;t heartily and &s;yncerely from us; Sure, we &s;hall think to our &s;elves, there is &s;ome other difficulty in it; &s;ure there is &s;omwhat el&s;e hinders that we cannot be as good as our words: and thus con&s;idering, after a while we be|gin to feel out the knot, that indeed it is no marvel why we could not perform that which we did promi&s;e, when-as we did promi&s;e that which we could not perform, that which of our &s;elves we are no ways able to bring to pa&s;&s;e. Now therefore it is ea&s;ie to &s;ee the folly of our
<PB N="16" REF="17">
too-violent and vehement earne&s;tne&s;&s;e in &s;aying we will do this, and we will do that, the which is not in our power to effect: and therefore more duely weighing within our &s;elves that 'tis God alone who <HI>worketh both the will and the deed,</HI> as Saint <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaks, we learn thereby more moderately and &s;oberly to &s;ay, <HI>O draw us, and w<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> will run after thee: Lord, we would be better, we de&s;ire to a|void &s;in; but help thou our de&s;ire.</HI> We may al&s;o in Saint <HI>Pauls</HI> words truely &s;ay that we labour, labour in our mindes to be rid of &s;in, and to attain &s;ome better condi|tion of life; and <HI>yet it is not</HI> we, <HI>but the grace of God</HI> which is with us: it is our labour, and it is not ours: &s;omthing there is, no que&s;tion, in us, to &s;et forwards in the bu&s;i|ne&s;&s;e; and yet this &s;omething, without God, we do &s;uf|ficiently finde to be even as nothing: we may (as in|deed we mu&s;t) be doing, and &s;o we our endeavours; but let us know and be a&s;&s;ured, that there can be no harve&s;t except God pro&s;per it; for it &s;hall be like the Corn growing upon the hou&s;e top, wherewith the Mower fill|eth not his hand, neither he that bindeth up the &s;heaves his bo&s;om. Many times do we ob&s;erve in the pa&s;&s;age of our life, that when we mo&s;t &s;trive, and are mo&s;t eager|ly &s;et to re&s;i&s;t &s;in, we &s;hall u&s;ually never a jot the le&s;&s;e, but rather the more, be foil'd with &s;in. Fir&s;t, the cau&s;e thereof (as I judge) is our impaciency; for we may feel in our &s;elves, if we mark it, that herein we are not &s;o patiently contented as we &s;hould be to tarry the Lords lea&s;ure, but would make too much ha&s;te to be freed, be|fore it is Gods will we &s;hould. Saint <HI>Paul</HI> him&s;elf would fain be delivered, but it was an&s;wered him, <HI>My grace is &s;ufficient for thee.</HI> Again, another cau&s;e may be, for that perchance we do attribute too much to our own &s;trength for the deliverance; and therefore God will let us &s;ee how weak we are of our &s;elves to do any thing as of our &s;elves. Behold,</P>
<P><PB N="17" REF="17">
Our &s;innes take being with us in the wombe, they live with us from Cradle to the Tomb; &s;o weake are wee &amp; frayle, to encounter with &s;inne, the common Ene|my of Man-kind, &s;pecially this bo&s;ome Enemy, our na|turall &s;inne and corruption; that it is well if through continuance ef many yeers together, we can make the&s;e <HI>Ague</HI> fits to breake their cour&s;e, It is to be noted, that every one hath his double Genius, his good and evill Angell to attend upon him: the good Angell, I meane his naturall inclination to &s;ome vertue more then ordi|nary; the evill Angell, his naturall inclination to &s;ome vice above the re&s;t: if wee doe keepe out this evill Angell, this Devill of ours, this Satan, and Deceiver, at armes end; that is, not &s;uffer the temptation to enter in too neerly unto us, we may perchance now and then e&s;cape the foyle: But when once he gets within us, &s;ure wee are then to bee overcome; there is no grapling with it in our owne brea&s;ts And oh how often, and of|ten, are wee thus &s;hamefully foyled, and overcome&punc; &s;ometimes do wee thinke to our &s;elves, <HI>Lord &s;hall we ne|ver be free from this pollution of &s;inne?</HI> Wee doe hope this &s;hall be the la&s;t time, now wee hope wee &s;hall doe &s;o no more: but yet &s;till there is no La&s;t, there is no end with it; the comfort that wee have is this, that as wee doe often &s;inne, &s;o it is no long while that wee continue in it without repentance: and &s;o then, as <HI>David</HI> &s;aith, <HI>Though heavine&s;&s;e may endure for a night,</HI> the night of &s;inne, yet <HI>Ioy commeth againe in the morning,</HI> the morning of re|pentance: Ioy, and that a double Ioy; Ioy, by Recon|ciliation with God, and Regeneration unto Righte|ou<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ne&s;&s;e; and Ioy by &s;pirituall comfort in divine Meditations: for the plea&s;ing exerci&s;e of the&s;e Medita|tions, like a &s;weet Companion in our heavenly Iourney, is &s;eldome long ab&s;ent from our &s;oules, being full of amiable delight and recreation, refre&s;hing the heart with plea&s;ure, and &s;ugaring the affections; &s;o that ma|ny
<PB N="18" REF="18">
times the familiar conver&s;ation which wee have with Heaven, and that Angelicall illumination of mind which is within us, doth make our ravi&s;ht &s;oules, not|with&s;tanding all other difficulties, &s;ay unto them&s;elves, as <HI>Iacoh</HI> did at the newes of <HI>Io&s;ephs</HI> life and pro&s;perity, <HI>It is enough:</HI> wee are full, and &s;o fully &s;atisfied with this heavenly Manna, even this very food of Angels, that here doe wee &s;it downe, and feed our &s;elves, perhaps &s;ome houres at a time on this Cele&s;tiall &s;weetne&s;&s;e.</P>
<LG>
<L>Our &s;ilent thoughts now take their holy &s;cem,</L>
<L>To walke about the new Ieru&s;alem:</L>
<L>And marke <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ow there each precious &s;tone doth vy</L>
<L>Which may give brighte&s;t lu&s;tre to the eye.</L>
</LG>
<P>How doe wee de&s;ire to re&s;t and dwell continually in this Paradi&s;e of contemplation; even as Saint <HI>Peter</HI> did when hee &s;aw how fine it was to be in the Mount, and &s;aid, <HI>Lord let us make three Tabernacles, and dwell here:</HI> to dwell here, it were good indeed, but that verily may not be, there is no dwelling in Heaven whil&s;t wee are in the fle&s;h, no looking for a continuall joy, &s;weetne&s;&s;e and content in this vale of mi&s;ery; and therefore &s;ince that thorow the whole &s;cope of this life wee are ordained rather to a religious travaile and labour, then to quiet and ea&s;e; doubtle&s;&s;e the re&s;ting our &s;elves &s;o over-much in this &s;atiety of Ioy, doth us more harme then good, in that it makes us the more to forget to take the paines to goe to an other Heaven hereafter, who are thus as it were in a pre&s;ent Heaven here already; the &s;atisfying fruition of Contemplation, doth call away our thoughts from the nece&s;&s;ary care of Mortification, flattering ma|ny times the due &s;en&s;e of &s;inne, and giving us, as I may &s;ay, a kind of Liberty and Priviledge to doe ami&s;&s;e. For we &s;hall thereby thus think to our &s;elve, when we are &s;o often and &s;o much over taken with &s;inne; there is a fa|tall nece&s;&s;ity of &s;inning in all men; and therefore not|with&s;tanding
<PB N="19" REF="18">
that how many, and what&s;oever our &s;innes be, wee make no doubt but it is well enough with us, and that wee mu&s;t needs be &s;ufficiently in the favour of God, to whom he doth afford &s;uch divine familiarity, and &s;uch heavenly Comforts; the which per&s;wa&s;ion of our &s;elves, although it may be true in &s;ome &s;en&s;e; true I meane, that the&s;e inward gifts of mind are generally a token of Gods favour; yet &s;urely thus, I &s;ay, doth the &s;weetne&s;&s;e and &s;elfe-conceit thereof make us often times the more &s;lacke, not &s;o diligently to &s;eeke to mor|tifie our corrupt affections, not &s;o &s;eriou&s;ly thinking how this illumination of mind, this <HI>Tree of Knowledge</HI> may bring forth the fruit of good workes; how to be|come humble, to become patient, to become cha&s;te, to become temperate, &amp;c.</P>
<P><HI>Iames</HI> and <HI>Iohn</HI> were bu&s;ying their minds about who &s;hould be on the right hand, and who on the left of Chri&s;t in his Kingdome: but our Saviour cals them neerer home to the matter in hand; to thinke rather on &s;uffering with him, and that pre&s;ent Condition of diffi|culty which they mu&s;t undergoe, well knowing that the gazing too much on that ea&s;ie and &s;weet part of reli|gion might make them to omit the weightier, and more materiall part which is to beare the Cro&s;&s;e, and drink of his Cup.</P>
<P>Well, as experience of &s;pirituall under&s;tanding grows on, &s;o our phan&s;ie will be apt to abide more con&s;tant in our meditations upon anything, and be more aboun|dantly fruitfull with variety of con&s;iderations, &s;pecially if other affairs give us Liberty to &s;pend our time freely upon it; our Melancholly thoughts perhaps for &s;ome moneths together will be mainly employed and taken up; &s;ometimes with the notions of this &s;ubject, &s;ome|times of that; fot a while it may be, wee &s;hall be alto|gether to contemplate of Death and Mortality, our phan&s;ie will hang only on Graves, on Sculs, on Pa&s;&s;ing|bels, &s;adly weighing how truly it is &s;aid of <HI>David,</HI> that
<PB N="20" REF="19">
man is a thing of nought, his time pa&s;&s;eth away like a &s;hadow, and that of <HI>Iob</HI> in his &s;eventh Chapter, <HI>My dayes are &s;wifter then a Weavers &s;huttle, and are &s;pent without hope. O remember that my life is wind, mine eye &s;hall no more &s;ee good, the eye of him that hath &s;eene mee &s;hall &s;ee me no more,</HI> &amp;c. ringing, ringing out the Knell of death to our &s;oules, in this or the like manner. O thou devouted &s;oule,</P>
<LG>
<L>Amid&s;t the plea&s;ures, joyes, triumphs,</L>
<L>And hopes now in this life begun,</L>
<L>Thinke every morning that ere night,</L>
<L>Thy Sun may &s;et, thy life be done.</L>
<L>Amid&s;t the cares, the dolefull griefs</L>
<L>And feares that on this life attend;</L>
<L>Thinke every morning that ere night,</L>
<L>Thy Sun may &s;et, thy li<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e may end.</L>
</LG>
<P>Another while perchance we &s;hal take plea&s;ure in guild|ing over our thoughts, with the glorious lu&s;tre of the world to come, the beatificall vi&s;ion, the beauty of the Saints; according to that of <HI>Daniel, They that be wi&s;e, &s;hall &s;hine as the Firmament, and they that turne many to righteou&s;nes, as the &s;tars for ever and ever.</HI> Sometimes our &s;eriou&s;ne&s;&s;e is very much affected with Bels; the Melancholy ri&s;ing and falling of the &s;ound doth methinkes lively imprint into our fancie the Emblem of mans incon&s;tancie, and the fading &s;ucce&s;&s;ion of the times, and ages of this world, &s;he wing that which S. <HI>Iohn</HI> &s;peaks in the 1. Epi&s;tle, the &s;econd Chapter, <HI>How the world pa&s;&s;eth away, and the lu&s;tt thereof; but hee that doth the will of God abideth for e|ver;</HI> the warbling out of tunes in our mind, the hearing or modul<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ting of melodious &s;ongs which have been an|cient, will revive unto our phan&s;ie the times, and things that are pa&s;t, making us exceeding &s;ad and dumpi&s;h at the remembrance of them and ready &s;ometimes to let fall teares; becau&s;e that golden Flower of time, that &s;pring-tide of delight is &s;o &s;oon pa&s;t and gone; three is
<PB N="21" REF="19">
an end with it; and alas woe is us; it &s;hall never, O never returne again.</P>
<LG>
<L>Farewell, adieu ye plea&s;ant youthfull houres,</L>
<L>Which did our life &s;o &s;weetly crowne with flowers.</L>
</LG>
<P>Many times againe doth the con&s;ideration of Eterni|ty, and that endle&s;&s;e &s;tat<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> of the &s;oule after this life, drive the&s;e or the like Meditat<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ons intentively to our hearts; O Lord how much doth it concerne us with mo&s;t exact care, to take heed how we order our &s;elves whil&s;t wee live here; when as according to our living in this world our &s;oules mu&s;t needs enter into &s;uch an endle&s;&s;e, and unalterable a condition, the very beholding of which, though but a farre off, doth make all our &s;en&s;e as it were gidy and amaz'd at the exceed|ing height, depth, and extent thereof. The &s;ight of a dead mau, if peradventure anatomized, and cut up before us, or el&s;e but &s;hrowded lying pro&s;trate, or the like, doth u&s;ually worke &s;o reall an efficacie in our thoughts, that it deeply ca&s;teth us into a loathing aba&s;e|ment, and vile e&s;teeme of our &s;elves; it may be for a good while after confidering thus, that notwith&s;tand|ing Man doth carry &s;uch e&s;tate with him, is &s;o &s;umptu|ou&s;ly adorned, and &s;o full of magnificent &s;hew in this life, yet is hee in &s;ub&s;tance but a peece of carrion, even &s;o contemptible a thing, that he would disdain being a|live to but touch him&s;elfe if he were dead. <HI>O man, how can&s;t thou be proud, that art nothing but a bag of dung, a &s;inke of filth and corruption:</HI> me thinks the very meane&s;t creatures are more happy then we; for loe O Lord they continue perfect in that &s;tate thou ha&s;t created them; they live not in &s;inne again&s;t their Maker, they die in in|nocencie; but man alas, unhappy man liveth in &s;inne, dieth in trouble: <HI>O finne thou art the wor&s;t of all evils; thou art wor&s;t then death, wor&s;e then Hell, &s;ure better were it to have no being at all, then that our being &s;hould be offen&s;ive to that God, which hath be&s;towed it on us.</HI></P>
<P><PB N="22" REF="20">
In the time of plague and infectious &s;ickne&s;&s;e in lik<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> manner doe our Meditations more con&s;ideratively en|large them&s;elves; how are our thoughts then not a little &s;wollen up with &s;adne&s;&s;e and griefe, at the tender ap|prehen&s;ion of the &s;olitary, and for&s;aken e&s;tate of tho&s;e poore &s;oules, who are impri&s;oned, and &s;hut up in the infected hou&s;es; thinking thus with our &s;elves, <HI>O Lord how happy are wee on whom the Sun &s;hines thus merrily: the Sunne of Gods favour;</HI> wee have health, wee have Liberty, wee have Plenty of all things at our hearts de&s;ire: but they poore wretches are inclo&s;ed within the &s;hadow of death; their feet like good <HI>Io|&s;ep<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">s</HI> are in the &s;tocks, and the Iron thereof entreth into their &s;oules; the hardne&s;&s;e of mi&s;ery maketh their very hearts to bleed; for (as <HI>Iob</HI> &s;aith) <HI>Tbe arrowes of the Almighty are within them; and the poy&s;on thereof drinketh up their &s;pirits:</HI> O how can wee forget to have compa&s;&s;ion on &s;uch mi&s;ery as this!</P>
<P>The &s;e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ious deepne&s;&s;e of our mind doth al&s;o thus fre|quently clo&s;e up in our Meditations, the departing day: and Lord thou ha&s;t added one day more unto this our life, which thou might&s;t long ere this have &s;hortned, and cut off; Lord prepare us for our end; and make us willinger to die then yet wee are; that when as wee &s;hall have brought all our dayes to a period, as we have now this day, wee may be ready and well content, to depart out of this world to thine eternall mercy; and that wee be patiently re&s;olved, that this face, the&s;e hands, and this whole body of ours, after a while it may put on corruption, be clothed with blackne&s;&s;e and deformity: and &s;o with the fatall nece&s;&s;ity of all Man|kind, naturally to be compo&s;ed into Mortality, and be gathered to our Fathers to re&s;t with them in the du&s;t, untill thine appointed time.</P>
<LG>
<L>Vntill that &s;hrill awaking Trumpet &s;ound,</L>
<L>At the la&s;t day to rai&s;e us from the ground.</L>
</LG>
<P><PB N="23" REF="20">
The Melancholly Man is a man full of thoughts, his phan&s;ie is as it were alwayes in a con&s;tant Motion: no &s;ooner doe wee di&s;charge our braines of the&s;e diviner thoughts and meditations; &s;pecially our mind being at lei&s;ure from worldly things; but forth with it is in action, either with &s;ome idle, or ill employment; ei|ther wee are building of Ca&s;tles in the ayre, or framing of Vtopiaes, and the Idea's of one thing, and of ano|ther, of Monarchies of Paradi&s;es, and &s;uch like plea|&s;ing dreams of phan&s;ie; or el&s;e wee are on the other|&s;ide &s;narling our thoughts with the toyls of &s;inne.</P>
<LG>
<L>Each &s;en&s;e of ours to the heart,</L>
<L>Proves Traytor to let in,</L>
<L>Temptation with his fatall dart,</L>
<L>The Harbinger of &s;inne.</L>
</LG>
<P>How often thus doe; the allurmeents of plea&s;ure in|volve our minds in a re&s;tle&s;&s;e unquietne&s;&s;e, untill wee give &s;atisfaction thereunto? how often doth the pro|vocations of lu&s;t follow our thoughts, till wee commit Adultery with the Baby of our owne fancie? how often again doth impatiency haunt us till wee are engaged in wrath and di&s;temper? how often doth the love of Riches torment us into the con&s;ent of inju&s;tice?</P>
<P>This is the difference wee may find in our &s;oules, be|twixt good and evill; when wee are affected with good things wee are ready, as I &s;ay, to poure out our braines into an abundance of Con&s;ideration thereupon: but when as wee goe to make u&s;e thereof in the practi&s;e of our lives, &s;uch difficulties and impo&s;&s;ibilities doe &s;tand in the way, that it is even again&s;t our &s;tomack then to t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">inke upon it: when contrariwi&s;e wee are affected with evill things: it may be wee are not ready to &s;pend &s;o many thoughts upon them: but wee may ea&s;ily ob|&s;erve our pronene&s;&s;e to imprint them in our actions. For good; wee are as the fruitle&s;&s;e Fig-tree, all who&s;e &s;ap
<PB N="24" REF="21">
is but enough to bear leaves, none for fruit; &s;o that in manner all our goodne&s;&s;e goes out into thoughts, medi|tations and de&s;ires, little or none at all into practi&s;e and performance; but for evill, wee are more fruit then leaves, the practick part of our &s;oules doth here out-goe the &s;peculative.</P>
<Q>Facilis de&s;cen&s;us av A<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">rni.</Q>
<P>Nature hath made it ea&s;ie for us to goe downwards in the paths of death and de&s;truction; and yet notwith|&s;tanding by Gods mercy &s;in doth not over-come us to fulfill it in the lu&s;ts and full &s;wing thereof; we are not at ea&s;e and re&s;t with it, it doth di&s;content and trouble us; there is no perfect quietne&s;&s;e in our &s;oules whil&s;t it prevailes within us; although &s;ometimes for want of carefull diligence it taketh &s;uch advantage of us, that tis long and difficult ere wee can wind our &s;elves out of the &s;nare therof. I &s;ay long and difficult ere we can through|ly untie tho&s;e knots of perver&s;ene&s;&s;e, and impiety, which Sathan when hee gets time and liberty, doth cunningly contrive within us: Here we may note the wi&s;ely-con|firm'd maturity of years and better acquaintance wi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">h the nature of things, as it doth helpe forward our con|tinuance in grace, in that it becomes longer (being made cleane by repentance) ere we &s;hall now fall backe into &s;inne. I meane into more gro&s;&s;e and frequent &s;innes, &s;o likewi&s;e it advantageth our continuance in &s;inne, in that it becomes the longer al&s;o (being in the &s;tate of wrath) ere wee can be duly reconciled againe by true repentance; and the rea&s;on hereof without que|&s;tion is chiefly to bee conceived, for that ripene&s;&s;e of age makes nature more &s;olid, &s;tiffe and unmoveably &s;et in its cour&s;e, being the right &s;ubject of con&s;tant &s;eriou&s;|ne&s;&s;e and Melancholy; as on the other-&s;ide, youth is vainely wavering, and according to the Poet,
<Q>Cereu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> in vitium &s;lecti, &amp;c.</Q>
<Q><PB N="25" REF="21">
<L>Like wax that's quickly wrought to any &s;hape,</L>
<L>And pliable to any alteration.</L></Q></P>
<P>Againe touching the &s;ettledne&s;&s;e of our cour&s;es in this &s;pi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ituall condition of the &s;oule, it is alwayes to be ob|&s;erved, that the more unhappily finne doth prevaile over us, and the longer it doth continue with us, the more we are di&s;heartned, and loth to repent; by rea&s;on that dif|ficulty and bad &s;ucce&s;&s;e doth daunt the courage, and de|ter from that, which ea&s;ine&s;&s;e and happy proceeding doe make to delight in; thus likewi&s;e in other things it is u&s;ually &s;eene, that hee who thrives delights to be a good Husband; pro&s;perity backs on the endeavour, and &s;weetnes a mans labour. In like manner al&s;o, when we have good &s;ucce&s;&s;e in Religion, it makes us the more religious; the be ter wee thrive in it, the more wee are in love with it; that which wee have already quickens the appetite, and whets on the affection with a greater longing, having truly ta&s;ted how good it is: we can with <HI>David</HI> &s;ay, <HI>Oh how &s;weet are thy words unto our ta&s;te;</HI> yea, <HI>&s;weeter then honey unto our mouth:</HI> our &s;oule can then hand|&s;omly reili&s;h all holy duties, and religious exerci&s;es, and wee doe delight in the performance thereof; as in parti|cular, the frequenting the Church, the hearing of Ser|mons; the holy Law and Te&s;timonies of the Lord doe not now &s;eeme a burden but as a plea&s;ure unto us.</P>
<LG>
<L>O Lord me thinkes thy words to us doe &s;hine,</L>
<L>A &s;weet direction in the paths divine.</L>
</LG>
<P>In receiving the word, we can &s;uck out a &s;ecret &s;weet|ne&s;&s;e, and comfortable benefit there from, it be|comes nouri&s;hable unto us, the Rod of Gods ju&s;tice, and the &s;taffe of his mercies bound up together in his booke, doe plea&s;antly lead forth our &s;oules, be|&s;ides the waters of Comfort; but &s;pecially is our
<PB N="26" REF="22">
Melancholy &s;oule mo&s;t in imately affected with &s;uch Scripture, which pre&s;&s;eth home the due under&s;tanding of our momentany and mortall Condition, and with funerall exerci&s;es, which more lively &s;et forth the &s;ame, <HI>Salomon,</HI> &s;aith, <HI>It is better to goe into the hou&s;e of mourning, &amp;c.</HI> and he gives the cau&s;e, for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to his heart; wee &s;hall I &s;ay bee thus alwayes apt on &s;uch occa&s;ions to fix the &s;ad con&s;ideration of death mo&s;t neerly to us; and &s;ure mee thinkes there can be no thoughts that doe concerne us more then tho&s;e of our end of our la&s;t day; neither can wee be&s;tow any of the time of our life better, or to more purpo&s;e, then in the digging of our Graves; I meane the providing for our end; for though perhaps wee may live a great deale longer; yet verely wee are no men of this world; thy grace O Lord hath &s;o re|moved our affections from the&s;e tran&s;itory things; that with Saint <HI>Paul, Wee are daily dying in our thoughts, and de|&s;iring rather to be di&s;&s;olved, and to be with Chri&s;t, then to live here;</HI> not waiting, expecting, and looking for a long con|tinuance upon earth, but farre more for a happy depar|ture.</P>
<LG>
<L>Life's not our joy, at death's our chiefe&s;t ayme,</L>
<L>By life wee lo&s;e, by death wee hope to gaine.</L>
</LG>
<P>Al&s;o in this pro&s;perity of Religion doe wee alwayes apprehend a more gratious &s;atisfaction in our prayers, &amp; &s;upplications; the &s;pirit of devotion &s;o filleth and fat|teth our &s;oule with goodne&s;&s;e, that wee are wont abun|dantly to rejoyce therein above all other things; &s;tri|ving to lift up our &s;oules often in private devotion; in &s;o much, that if lei&s;ure &s;erve, wee &s;hall be ready to offer up the incen&s;e of our zeale unto God, in admiring his mercy, &s;etting forth our unworthine&s;&s;e, de&s;iring farther his grace and heavenly benediction, to grow &s;tronger and &s;tronger in his feare and love; and the like reque&s;ts and Petitions often times, even often times peradven|ture
<PB N="27" REF="22">
in a day, not only in &s;hort ejaculations, but even in pretty la<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ge formes of expre&s;&s;ion; for no &s;ooner doe wee feele the &s;acred fire of Devotion flaming upwards, and a&s;piring unto heaven; but pre&s;ently wee &s;eriou&s;ly betake our thoughts to prayer and thank&s;giving; by the way it may be here con&s;iderable, whether for our con|&s;tant devotion in private, as morning and evening, and the like; many &s;hort ejaculations are more fit to carry up our affections unto God; or otherwi&s;e &s;ome one long and large continued forme, the former way through its often cuttings off being in dangsr to make us dege|nerate into alazie and forgetfull &s;eldomne&s;&s;e of praying, the latter thorough its tedious continuance into an un|advi&s;ed dulne&s;&s;e in praying: and therefore not much approving of either, betweene both of the&s;e, two or three moderate formes, with an acute and &s;trong win|ged brevity, are me thinkes more convenient to pre&s;ent our cau&s;e before the Almighty in an unvariable con|&s;tancy, and in a piou&s;ly devout apprehen&s;ion; but to keepe on our way: Now againe in like manner are we mo&s;t divinely &s;tudious and diligent; to make the full benefit and advantage of that time, which is properly &s;et apart for Gods &s;ervice, labouring to build up others, and to be built up &s;trong in our &s;elves; as by hearing, exhorting, and di&s;cour&s;ing with truly pious and religi|ous men, rejoycing in this comfortable <HI>Communion of Saints;</HI> I meane the communicating acquaintance, and a&s;&s;i&s;ting fellow&s;hip of our inner man, one with ano|ther; or el&s;e againe perhaps more privately managing our &s;oules by reading; as in the Bible, <HI>Practi&s;e of Piety, Gerrards Meditations,</HI> or the like; by Meditating Con|&s;ulting, and walking with the Almighty in &s;pirituall thoughts&punc; ending the Sabbath dayes u&s;ually in &s;uch high and &s;erious actions; occupying our &s;elves in that only which may tend either to improve Knowledge, try Faith, exerci&s;e Charity, examine Con&s;cience, and the like, communing thus, as <HI>David</HI> hath it, <HI>&s;ecretly in our</HI>
<PB N="28" REF="23">
<HI>owne hearts, in our Chambers, and being &s;till quiet from outward perturbations, thereby effectually to entertaine the&s;e heavenly Gue&s;ts:</HI> And therefore duly apprehending this Cele&s;tiall happine&s;&s;e of the mind, &s;hal we u&s;e to long for the Sab|bath before it come, preferring it in e&s;teeme above all the other dayes of the week, and calling it, as in the 58. of <HI>I&s;aiah,</HI> the thirteenth ver&s;e, <HI>A delight unto us, the Holy of the Lord, &amp;c.</HI> accounting the holy re&s;t of this Sabbath here to be a lively Emblem, and as it were a ta&s;te of that glorious re&s;t in the eternall Sabath hereaf|ter.</P>
<P>The due frequenting, and &s;olemne u&s;e of four a clock prayers on Saturdayes afternoone, is me thinkes a wor|thy &s;weet, and &s;ea&s;onable exerci&s;e, as being an excel|lent preparation again&s;t the Sunday, to lay a&s;ide the thoughts, the cares and bu&s;ines of our Calling; and truly were it generally more ob&s;erved, and taken notice of, no doubt Religion might fare far the better for it, but &s;ure.</P>
<LG>
<L>The Root of evill is the love of Gold,</L>
<L>And that is it Religion is &s;o cold,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e we cannot &s;pare the time from gaine,</L>
<L>For Heaven therefore we take but little paine.</L>
</LG>
<P>To goe on as this irradiating beam of divine grace, doth cloath our minds with a light and delight in &s;piri|tuall things; whereby not only our thoughts ate &s;et a worke on purer objects, but al&s;o our outward behaviour and conver&s;ation is ready to do its part too in Religion, our tongues not vaine or offen&s;ive, but ayming their words for the mo&s;t part to pious and good di&s;cour&s;es, aptly applying ordinary things in our talke to &s;ome god|ly u&s;e, or religious ob&s;ervation; our feet not &s;wift to go after folly; nor our hand dealing with deceit; I &s;ay as this illuminative beame of divine Grace doth enlighten our thoughts, making us full of high and heavenly wi&s;e|dome
<PB N="29" REF="23">
in all our wayes; &s;o in like manner it warmeth our affection towards others; melting the bowels of our compa&s;&s;ion into a more then &s;uperficiall charitablene&s;s, and loving mindedne&s;&s;e unto all men, whereby with tenderne&s;&s;e we alwayes con&s;true their lives and actions in the better &s;en&s;e, and doe &s;incerely wi&s;h, pray for, and de&s;ire even the &s;alvation of every one; but &s;pecially zealous of the good of our friends, as of our own; and therefore are we almo&s;t ready with <HI>David,</HI> many times to cry out, <HI>O Ab&s;alom my Sonne, my Sonne, my Father, my Child, my Wife, my Brother, my Friend, poore &s;oule, would to God I had dyed for thee:</HI> and as &s;orrowing, &s;o againe re|joycing for no other pro&s;perity &s;o much as for their &s;ouls happine&s;&s;e; and that too, not &s;o much for any pri|vate relation betwixt them and us, as for that we know it is mo&s;t, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">cceptable unto God, becau&s;e we doe now ve|rily make an higher account of Gods glory, then of our own good; and therefore do we as it were bear on our &s;houlders the care of Gods people, heartily praying that all as well as our &s;elves may thus ta&s;te and &s;ee how gracious the Lord is, how full of mercy and compa&s;&s;i|on; &s;o true, find we that of Saint <HI>Iohn,</HI> in 1. Epi&s;tle, the 4. Chapter, <HI>That he who loveth God, mu&s;t love his neighbour al&s;o.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>This is the Touch-&s;tone to a &s;acred &s;oule,</L>
<L>Whereby the truth of her Religion's knowne;</L>
<L>If that her neighbours griefe &s;he can condole,</L>
<L>With as due &s;en&s;e as if it were her owne.</L>
</LG>
<P><HI>Bonum e&s;t &s;ui diffu&s;ivum,</HI> Tis the nature of true good|ne&s;&s;e to be willing to have others participate of it; &s;ure then he is not really good in him&s;elfe, who is nigardly &s;treightned in his bowels of affection towards others; but hee who hath perfectly received within him|&s;elfe that good which commeth downe from the Father, and Fountaine of all Goodne&s;&s;e, cannot
<PB N="30" REF="24">
but be &s;o full in him&s;elfe, in his owne heart, that hee mu&s;t needs run over with a liberall good will and affe|ction of good unto others. His Liberality of affe|ction unto others, doth al&s;o reach ir &s;elfe forth into a godly patience, in bearing the injuries &amp; wrongs of men, we can be rea&s;onable well content, to put up the&s;e &s;uffe|rings, which the malice of our fellow creatures doth inflict, becau&s;e wee know them to be &s;ent to us by Gods appointment, and wee have &s;o much tru&s;t and confidence in his love towards us; that wee cannot thinke, he will &s;uffer any thing to light on us for our hurt, with whom wee are &s;o dearely joyned in our in|ner men; beleeving that as he hath &s;ent affliction for our advantage, &s;o he will not &s;uffer us to be tempted a|bove what wee &s;hall thorough his mercy be able to un|dergoe; that he wil be &s;ure to have that care of us, as to take it away againe in due &s;ea&s;on, when it &s;hall be mo&s;t convenient for us. And here O Lord con&s;idering thy diligent care over us, in all the dangers and chances of this life, wee cannot but truly &s;ay, <HI>O what is man, what is man that thou art thus mindfull of him, or the Sonne of man that thou vi&s;ite&s;t him with &s;uch abundant of loving kindne&s;&s;e?</HI> one would thinke with the Poet, that
<Q>Non vacat exiguis rebus ade&s;&s;e Iovi.</Q></P>
<P>That then O Lord who art &s;o farre above the earth, &s;o farre &s;urpa&s;&s;ing, that innumerable number of &s;tars in the Heaven; the lea&s;t of which is much bigger then many worlds; nay, &s;o farre &s;urpa&s;&s;ing tho&s;e Heavens of &s;tars, and many millions of Heavens; be&s;ides even far|ther then all the capacities of mankind are able any wayes to conceive or imagine; one would think I &s;ay in humane rea&s;on, that thou that art &s;o exceeding and infinitly great and glorious, &s;hould not be at lei&s;ure &s;o much as to thinke on &s;uch poor atomes, &s;uch con|temptible nothings as we are; much le&s;&s;e to take no|tice of us with &s;uch affection of love. <HI>O Lord the great|ne&s;&s;e of thy love is not to be imagined.</HI></P>
<P><PB N="31" REF="24">
We may take notice in our &s;oules experience, that the pro&s;perous &s;ucce&s;&s;e of religion, and the long uninter|rupted continuance of grace within us; as it maketh us bold with God thorough his mercies; &s;o it maketh us al&s;o humble; bold I &s;ay, not proud; although nature bee very frequently apt and endeavouring in us to take too much upon her, and to mi&s;take Gods gifts and graces for her own proper powers faculties &amp; endowments; as bold, &s;o I &s;ay again, it maketh us humble in our own &s;elvs and weakne&s;&s;e; &s;uch is the amiable brightne&s;&s;e of the divine E&s;&s;ence, that the more wee apprehend the infi|nitene&s;&s;e, and purity thereof, the more wee &s;eem in our &s;elves to admire, to want and to thri&s;t after it, and even with un&s;atiable love to de&s;ire perfection for this neerer apprehen&s;ion of the Almighty, who giveth us light more clearely to &s;ee the gro&s;ne&s;&s;e, and obliquity of our own imperfections, whereby with humility we loath and ab|horre what we are of our &s;elves, &s;o that our lea&s;t &s;ins in the time of grace &s;eeme greater then our greate&s;t in the time of &s;inne. And therefore doe wee now u&s;e at &s;uch time with a more then ordinary love and admira|tion, to value Gods ble&s;&s;ings at a higher rate, our thoughts being full of thankfulne&s;&s;e for that plenty of goodne&s;&s;e, which at other times perhaps wee can &s;carce thinke on. O Lord if wee con&s;ider it, thy mercies, thy &s;weet mercies are renewed unto us, not only every morning, but every moment; what minute is there that we are not greatly beholding unto thee, O Lord.</P>
<LG>
<L>In that wee live, in that wee draw our hreath,</L>
<L>In that wee are not in eternall death,</L>
<L>Tis all thy mercies, as liberty, and wealth.</L>
<L>Our food, our rayment, and our &s;aving health.</L>
</LG>
<P>Thus farre the pro&s;perous gale of Gods favour doth carry us plea&s;antly on in the cour&s;e of Religion; but when the &s;torme ari&s;eth, wee are pre&s;ently overwhel|med
<PB N="32" REF="25">
with the boy&s;terous Waves of wrath, of lu&s;t, of di&s;tru&s;tfull feare, of impatiency, and the like; &s;o that we were never formerly &s;o ble&s;&s;edly refre&s;hed with that heavenly calme, as we are now againe mi&s;erably trou|bled, and to&s;&s;ed with this unhappy tempe&s;t; there is no con&s;tancy to be lookt for in this life&punc; but &s;pecially is our unhappy nature mo&s;t uncon&s;tant to per&s;i&s;t in the&s;e more divine, and &s;in-for&s;aking cour&s;es; it may be we may with &s;ufficient deliberation vow, re&s;olve and goe on a while, to u&s;e &s;uch and &s;uch means, and helps as per|chance Fa&s;ting, Watching, or the like, for the preven|tion of our frequent fals, and to keepe on in a le&s;&s;e floa|ting, and uncertaine manner in our way to Heaven: but alas, u&s;ually either the&s;e cour&s;es are quickly left of againe, or el&s;e they be &s;o dull and lazily performed, that the continuance of them is to little purpo&s;e, &s;o that three or foure moneths at a time is a great while for us to be free men, lively and at our owne di&s;po&s;all <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> the &s;ervice of God; and then doubtle&s;&s;e after our old cour&s;e mu&s;t we returne with &s;hame, like fooles unto the &s;tocks; or as &s;aith the Apo&s;tle <HI>Like the dog unto hi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> vomit, and the Sow unto her wallowing in the mire;</HI> but now the wonted u&s;e and long acquainted experience of &s;in|ning in time doth dull the &s;en&s;e of con&s;cience; making &s;inne not to be &s;o &s;trange, and fearful a thing unto <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"> as in former times in the minority of our dayes; O youth, thou thou I &s;ay, art the prime and golden age for Religion, thou art that lovely one, whom the Lord de|lighteth in, even fairer then the tents of <HI>Kedar,</HI> or the Curtains of <HI>Salomon.</HI> To goe on, heretofore the terrour thereof (I meane of gro&s;&s;er &s;innes) would &s;tat+tle us like a Bug beare, and make our &s;oules quickly ten|der, and &s;ore with the &s;ence of griefe; but at length|in continued u&s;e, what through the &s;ubtilty of Sa|than, and our accu&s;tomed familiarity with &s;inne, we are for the mo&s;t part nothing at all &s;o deeply affected with it, we have been now &s;o long habituated thereunto, that
<PB N="33" REF="25">
wee can ea&s;ily &s;it downe and &s;leepe in it, I &s;ay &s;leep and perchance fall into a dead &s;leepe to, unle&s;&s;e wee take great heed of the danger.</P>
<LG>
<L>Vnle&s;&s;e with good and well advi&s;ed care,</L>
<L>In its due time wee can thereof beware.</L>
</LG>
<P>For wee &s;hall find, that unle&s;&s;e we doe forthwith in &s;hort time after the &s;inne, that gro&s;&s;e and con&s;cience-da|ring &s;inne that we commit, take advantage of the &s;ad|ne&s;&s;e which it leaves in our &s;oules, to convert it into re|pentant griefe, and that it worke a &s;etled and &s;erious dejection in us, it is &s;eldome that we &s;hall &s;o &s;oone, or &s;o conveniently meet againe with the like helpefull means to lift our &s;elves out of this pit of de&s;truction. When as the cloud of &s;inne &s;ettles for a while upon our &s;ouls; and that wee walke as it were blind fold in the darkene&s;&s;e thereof; it is ob&s;erveable, that yet notwith&s;tanding wee may peradventure in that meane &s;pace now and then by the by a little drow&s;ily &s;hug up our &s;elves with a lazie kind of ill will again&s;t our &s;infull wretchedne&s;&s;e, and with a dreaming dete&s;tation, and abhorring of our unrighteou&s;ne&s;&s;e; but all that doth us little good in the end, if our repentance be not thoroughly and lively performed, if wee doe not even with violence breake off the bonds of iniquity, and ca&s;t away her cords from us, it never doth di&s;charge our con&s;ciences, or ea&s;e us perfectly of the guilt of &s;inne.</P>
<P>The Occa&s;ionall meanes which are wont to bring us to a truly deepe and &s;erious repentance are divers; many times that &s;en&s;e of &s;adne&s;&s;e, which as I &s;ay, &s;inne, greater &s;innes, leaves behind in the &s;oule immediately after the committing, is a &s;peciall and effectuall helpe to worke our delivery from the danger thereof. Sometimes al&s;o this thing or accident puts it in us &s;ometimes that, as the
<PB N="34" REF="26">
trerible fiercene&s;&s;e of Thunde<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">, Lightning, Tempe&s;ts, and the like fearefull dangers will perchance &s;trike this &s;eri|ous con&s;ideration to our hearts, Lord what a ca&s;e are we in, if we &s;hould be pre&s;ently &s;natcht away with this &s;udden judgement, being now in our &s;innes? and there|fore if it will plea&s;e God to &s;pare us this time, &s;ure wee will thoroughly repent, and &s;tand in no &s;uch hazard hence forward. Sometimes the apprehen&s;ion of Morta|lity, and the &s;hortne&s;&s;e of our life will bring us to thinke with our &s;elves that oh how &s;hall we put off our reconciliation with God any longer; for wee &s;ee that we be all as at the point of death, every day, one or other is departing from us to his everla&s;ting Man&s;ion: we know with the Apo&s;tle, that the end of all things is at hand, that there is no abiding for us here; and there|fore what manner of men ought we to be, how diligent and carefull to make our peace with God, and prevent the wor&s;t whil&s;t wee are &s;ure of time? Sometimes a|gaine the afflictions of this world, and the con&s;ideration of the vaine pur&s;uit of all earthly things, with the which men doe &s;o generally rejoyce and triumph; as when we &s;ee the rich man &s;welling in his credit, the &s;waggering Gallant &s;hining in his clothes, the honoura|ble man deifying him&s;elfe in his &s;tate;</P>
<LG>
<L>When that wee &s;ee men fooli&s;hly be&s;tow</L>
<L>Their whole affections on the&s;e things below.</L>
</LG>
<P>This I &s;ay doth call home our thoughts to make up our accounts, and hope for Heaven, for that we &s;ee there is nothing but toyle&s;ome and deceitfull vanity up|on earth. Sometimes al&s;o our preparation for the Lords Supper, when wee undertake the punctuall and due ex|amining of our &s;elves for that holy duty, doth cau&s;e us &s;o to dig out our con&s;ciences into a bleeding &s;orrow,
<PB N="35" REF="26">
that wee can rightly performe thar cheerfull re&s;olution of the mind which is requi&s;ite to an hearty renewning repentance, &amp; amendment of life. O Repentance, Repen|tance (under Chri&s;t Ie&s;us) thou only Saviour of Mankind, who can value thy worth? thou art to the &s;oul of man above all the gold and precious &s;tones in the world; as rich as Heaven it &s;elfe; how many noble and great men have de&s;ired to &s;ee thy face, and could not &s;ee it? and yet behold thou do&s;t u&s;e to dwell in the lowe&s;t du&s;t, e|ven with the humble, broken and contrite heart. And againe, thou &s;oule that enjoye&s;t this mo&s;t rich and happy trea&s;ure: O for Gods &s;ake, I &s;ay for Gods &s;ake, &s;leight it not; but hugge it, joyfully embrace it, and keepe it clo&s;e unto thee, it is the riche&s;t Iewell that can com<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> from Heaven.</P>
<LG>
<L>It is that Crowne that Saints hereafter weare,</L>
<L>When they in perfect glory &s;hall appeare.</L>
</LG>
<P>The opinion it is perhaps of &s;ome men, that for tho&s;e &s;ins which we have heretofore truly repented us of, we need not at any time account our &s;elvs guilty afterwards, becau&s;e the &s;core is di&s;charged, and as it were &s;truck off in the &s;ight of God: a judgement doubtle&s;&s;e not without its rea&s;on, and yet me thinks not altogether con&s;entane|ous to experience; for though in repentance, it may be we doe not u&s;ually charge our thoughts with &s;o parti|cular and fre&s;h a remembrance of our ancient &s;innes, as of the&s;e which we have committed &s;ince our la&s;t hu|miliation; yet &s;hall we ever hold our &s;elves to &s;tand guilty, and in danger of all our &s;innes, even tho&s;e ve|ry &s;innes which we had particularly repented of before, becau&s;e we doe take our &s;elves to be in &s;uch termes with God, that though hedoth fully pardon us, yet is it alwayes on condition that wec &s;hould performe that Covenant which wee make with him of better obedi|ence; and then the breach of this Coveant, upon con|dition of the performance whereof (as we conceive) we are forgiven, doth render us lyable again to Gods ju&s;tice
<PB N="36" REF="27">
for all our &s;innes; I &s;ay the Covenant which we make with him of better obedience. For it is &s;ure and cer|taine, that we doe never truly repent, but that we doe make or renew this Covenant with God to obey him better afterwards. Without que&s;tion a Chri&s;tans li<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e is nothing but a continuall ri&s;ing and falling, a falling by &s;inne, a ri&s;ing by repentance.</P>
<LG>
<L>Our life's a race, wherein the &s;ure&s;t feet</L>
<L>In running long with many fals doe meet.</L>
</LG>
<P>And though &s;ome men carry them&s;elves in &s;uch a &s;tea|dy con&s;tant cour&s;e that they never fall much; yet many men fall more &s;hrewdly at &s;ometimes of their age then at &s;ome; and mo&s;t men without que&s;tion at one time or other fall dangerou&s;ly, and without Gods &s;peciall grace irrecoverably; As there is a time when <HI>David</HI> rejoyceth, &s;aying, &s;urely goodne&s;&s;e and mercy &s;hall follow mee all the dayes of my life, and I will dwell in the hou&s;e of the Lord for ever; So there is al&s;o another time when hee &s;aith, there is no health in my fle&s;h, becau&s;e of thy di&s;plea&s;ure, neither is there any re&s;t in my bones, by rea|&s;on of my &s;inne: my wounds &s;tinke, and are corrupt through my fooli&s;hne&s;&s;e, &amp;c. Sinne maketh &s;uch deepe wounds in the &s;oule, that if wee fooli&s;hly negl<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ct to dre&s;&s;e them often, and tent them thoroughly, they quickly fe&s;ter inwardly, and prove dangerous; and there|fore ju&s;tly eon&s;idering this dangerou&s;ne&s;&s;e in the &s;tate of the &s;oule to be u&s;uall among&s;t men, and &s;pecially in <HI>Da|vid,</HI> that holy man, that more then ordinary man, even that man made aftet Gods owne heart; as al&s;o remem|bring the &s;olicitous heed and care of that more excel|lent ve&s;&s;el of holine&s;&s;e S. <HI>Paul</HI> over him&s;elfe, in the words of his in the ninth to the <HI>Corinthians,</HI> the 27. ver&s;e, <HI>Le&s;t that by any meanes when I bave preached unto others, I my &s;elfe &s;hould be a Ca&s;t-away;</HI> it makes us alwayes, methinkes nor without cau&s;e to &s;tand in feare of our &s;pirituall con|dition:
<PB N="37" REF="27">
not daring in our be&s;t comforts &s;o to &s;et our &s;elves at re&s;t, as though wee were wholly out of the reach of unhappine&s;&s;e; the often tryall of our patience, our wi&s;ely con&s;idered experience in heavenly things, to|gether with the comfort of the Scripture, according to Saint <HI>Paul</HI> in his fifth and fifteenth Chapters to the <HI>Ro|manes, May give us a &s;trong and confident hope, that wee &s;hall not enter into condemnation, but thorough his mercy be &s;aved in the day of the Lord; for wee are boldly per&s;waded that we are in Gods favour; and per&s;waded too, I &s;ay per&s;waded, that nei|ther life nor death, nor Angels, nor any other creature, &s;hall bee able to &s;eparate us from the love of God which is in Chri&s;t our Lord;</HI> and yet for all that, wee know wee are now but on the &s;ea, not in the Haven; the &s;ea of danger, not the Haven of perfect &s;afety; we cannot therefore be high minded in our thoughts, but feare, feare and carefully take heed, le&s;t we fall; &s;pecially when as we are con&s;ci|ous to our &s;elves of a nature which is &s;o weake, &s;o apt, and ready to fall into the greate&s;t, and mo&s;t dangerous &s;innes. O Lord and mo&s;t mercifull Father, there is no|thing perfect in this life: here wee have &s;ome joy, and &s;ome &s;orrow, &s;ome a&s;&s;urance, &s;ome feare, &s;ome know|ledge, &s;ome ignorance mingled together; for now wee know but not in part, &s;aith the Apo&s;tle, hereafter wee &s;hall know to the full now our &s;oule is only per&s;waded of her future &s;tate; &s;he taketh &s;ome remote glimp&s;e as it were of her &s;alvation, but no full &s;ight thereof: for <HI>wee are &s;aved by hope</HI> (&s;aith Saint <HI>Paul)</HI> but hope that is &s;eene is not hope; for what a man &s;eeth, why doth hee yet hope for hereafter? when &s;he hath fini&s;ht her cour&s;e, and fulfilled her dayes &s;hee &s;hall fully know and be re|&s;olved in the matter; &amp; as we hope to be thoroughly &s;a|tisfied with the everla&s;ting enjoyment &amp; therfore for the pre&s;ent condition of this our life, we may take up that expre&s;&s;ion of the Poet,
<Q><PB N="38" REF="28">
Ante obitum nemo &s;upremaque funcra faelix.</Q>
<Q><L>None be call'd happy rightly may,</L>
<L>Before his la&s;t and dying day.</L></Q></P>
<P>Ye pious and devout &s;oules that are now in the &s;tate of grace, <HI>ble&s;&s;e, O ble&s;&s;e the Lord your God and magnifie his name with all humility; for what is it that all of us are not damnable wretches, and mo&s;t unhappy mi&s;creants, but only his mercy? What have wee at all that we have not received? O</HI> let us then take heed, take heed I &s;ay le&s;t our hearts bee hardned with &s;tubborne&s;&s;e and &s;elfe opinion; hath not the Potter power over his Clay? may not the &s;piritu|all Husbandman breake off the Olive branches, and graft them in at his plea&s;ure? O the depth of the ri|ches, both of the wi&s;edome and knowledge of God! how un&s;earchable are all his judgements! and his wayes pa&s;t finding out, for who hath knowne the mind of the Lord? or who hath beene his Coun&s;ellor? And thus have we briefly di&s;patcht, the fir&s;t and better part of our bu&s;ines; I meane this Hi&s;tory of the &s;oule endued with grace.</P>
<LG>
<L>Now then our thoughts mu&s;t leave their Eagle &s;light,</L>
<L>And downe a while top <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ddle in the durt,</L>
<L>Behold and &s;ee what policy and might,</L>
<L>The Devill can &s;hew forth to doe us hurt.</L>
</LG>
<P>When God lets loo&s;e this roaring Lyon, O what de&s;truction doth hee bring upon us; how &s;trongly and cunningly doth he hold fa&s;t our &s;oules in &s;inne? how intricately are we intangled by his &s;nares, that we cannot get out? the heart (&s;aith <HI>Ieremy)</HI> is deceitfull a|bove all things, and de&s;perately wicked: who can know it? indeed it is a mo&s;t hard matter to find out all the &s;trength and &s;ubtilty of &s;inne in a wicked &s;oule; for the
<PB N="39" REF="28">
Devil when he gets po&s;&s;e&s;&s;ion &s;pecially in a more Melan|choly heart; like a Wont, makes his workes few above ground; but hath many &s;ecret pa&s;&s;ages and Maeanders under: the clo&s;e contrived cranies whereof, although we cannot fully &s;earch and tracke out; yet God wil|ling wee &s;hall the more open and principall cour&s;es, in this en&s;uing Part.</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<PB N="40" REF="29">
<HEAD>Of the Soule en&s;nared in &s;inne.</HEAD>
<P><HI>NEmo repente fuit turpi&s;&s;imus;</HI> Sinne creeps on by de|grees; but woe is us to what an exceeding height, and to what intolerable an increa&s;e is it able to grow? grow I &s;ay, heavier then the &s;and of the Sea in weight, and more in number; even &s;ufficient to fill whole volumes: for who is able to find out all his ini|quities, or reckon up his &s;innes? who knoweth, &s;aith <HI>David,</HI> how often he offendeth? Sinne in a wicked &s;oule is &s;o unmercifull a thing, that it hath no limits nor bounds of extent; it is that over-flowing Flood in the Scriptures, which drowned the old inhabitants of the earth; it is that raging &s;ulphurous fire which burnt up the Cities of the ungodly; or if you will that <HI>Phaetons</HI> fire among&s;t the Poets, which enflamed the whole world; for no &s;ooner doe we let at liberty our affecti|ons from the yoke of di&s;cipline and good order, from that narrow path, and rule of vertue,</P>
<P><HI>In cujus medio tuti&s;&s;imus ibis,</HI></P>
<P>O man, in the mid&s;t of which thou &s;afely might&s;t go, but pre&s;ently wee act out the true Morall of <HI>Phaetons</HI> Fable. <HI>Phaeton</HI> let loo&s;e the reines to his frolick Hor&s;es, and they carry him (as the fiction goes) to the firing of the world, and his owne de&s;truction; we doe but let goe the reines to our will and affections, and they car|ry us likewi&s;e headlong to our unavoidable de&s;truction, and to the &s;etting on fire of this Microco&s;me, this little world of ours; here we may well note, that <HI>Religio a religando vere dicta e&s;t,</HI> Religion is truly &s;o call'd from ty|ing back the affections; and therefore now when once con&s;cience doth thus let &s;lip the reines of di&s;cipline, and
<PB N="41" REF="29">
its due care of the &s;oule, our little world, as I &s;ay, is all on fi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e; our thoughts, de&s;ires, and affections being as it were without God and his feare, are altogether flaming with the di&s;temper'd heat of worldly cares, of ambiti|ous projects, of lu&s;tfull cour&s;es, of impatio<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t di&s;tra|ctions, and the like; the&s;e things doe freely range a|broad in t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e mind, doe take their plea&s;ure and pa&s;time therein.</P>
<LG>
<L>Like School boyes, when their Ma&s;ter's gone away,</L>
<L>They pre&s;ently are at their rogui&s;h play:</L>
<L>Iu&s;t &s;o, when that the Con&s;cience leaves to rule</L>
<L>Our thoughts, the Devill forthwith keeps the Schoole.</L>
</LG>
<P>And becau&s;e our in&s;ide is thus unframed with di&s;or|der, that wee neglect Religion, and leave off the ne|ce&s;&s;ary managing and manuring of the &s;oule by repen|tance; &s;inne by little and little, becomes habituall un|to us, an ordinary and unregarded thing; &s;o that in a while Melancholy making the mind more eager and in|tentivel<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> let in al its cour&s;es, what either by being drawn to the impatient expectation of what wee would have, by feeding our &s;elves with the plea&s;ing fruition of that we doe enjoy, or vexing our &s;elves with the feare of what may befall us, or with the griefe of that which doth already di&s;affect us, it is &s;o, that for the mo&s;t part there is very little &s;pace wherein our phancie is not in action with &s;ome one of the&s;e; &s;uch and &s;uch like things doe &s;o &s;eriou&s;ly take up our time, and &s;o earne&s;tly em|ploy our thoughts that our minds can hardly get leave at any time to bee at lei&s;ure for the common duties of Chri&s;tianity: for when at our nece&s;&s;ary oppor<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">unities, we goe about to reade the Scriptures, to meditate on good matters, or pray unto the Almighty; how exceed|ing difficult is it for us to draw off our imagination from tho&s;e other things, and &s;et it upon the&s;e? or if we doe take it off, it is but as in ha&s;te with a longing to be at
<PB N="42" REF="30">
them again: As al&s;o that little praying, meditating, or reading which we do at any time now employ our &s;elves in, doth altogether methinks pa&s;&s;e away without any &s;weetne&s;&s;e in't; it hath no more reli&s;h to us (for the mo&s;t part) then even as it were a rotten &s;tick, or a thing of nought; &s;o &s;uperficially doth it &s;lip away on the out&s;ide of our &s;ouls.</P>
<LG>
<L>In every thing, 'tis the delightful &s;weet</L>
<L>Thereof, that doth with our affection meet.</L>
</LG>
<P>I &s;ay, It is the &s;weetne&s;&s;e thereof that joyns it clo&s;ely to the thoughts, and unites it to the affections; and there|fore the&s;e duties and the like being &s;o out of reli&s;h with us, we have but little minde on them, we coldly regard them, and in a manner wholly neglect them; or if per|adventure the fa&s;hion of the times tend thereunto, and that we can &s;moothly &s;top up the mouth of truth-know|ing Con&s;cience with &s;ome daubing &s;atisfaction: we may, I &s;ay, we may &s;ome of us retain the out&s;ide, when we have lo&s;t the in&s;ide; we may &s;eem to be delighted with an oral formality, when as it is no whit cordial within us; like unto &s;hallow brooks that make a great noi&s;e with a little water; the &s;hadow &s;till continuing with us, whil&s;t the &s;ub&s;tance is &s;tollen away. But to go on in that way which is mo&s;t u&s;ual: I &s;ay, The &s;ub|&s;tantial deepne&s;&s;e of true inward plea&s;ure and delight in divine things being rooted up, pulls away with it the outward u&s;e of reading, meditating, and the like: &s;o that we are &s;eldom conver&s;ant in the&s;e things, although the liberty of our time give us opportunity for it never &s;o conveniently: for it is to be noted, a truely willing minde can finde out &s;hreds enough of time to be&s;tow in that way, even in the bu&s;ie&s;t and mo&s;t indu&s;trious Calling. And as for that more excellent gift of the Spirit, Prayer, that Princely Diadem among&s;t all hea|venly graces, from whence all other divine ble&s;&s;ings
<PB N="43" REF="30">
do borrow &s;ome lu&s;tre and advantage; how far is the familiar acquaintance thereof gone from our &s;ouls? when as all our private devotion is now po&s;ted off to the publike; and that al&s;o &s;o &s;lenderly and coldly per|formed by us, that the practice thereof is held on, it may be, rather for fa&s;hion &s;ake then devotion; more with the motion of our lips then with the affection of the heart; following the publike exerci&s;e rather for fear of &s;hame and reproach; I &s;ay, rather to keep touch and turn with the common Cu&s;tome, then out of any religious care or good will thereunto: for though the Sabbath be but once a week, yet &s;hall we mo&s;t times be then glad, if occa&s;ion bee hand&s;omly offer'd us to 'bide at home, and omit that duty.</P>
<LG>
<L>It is too wet, or el&s;e it is too cold;</L>
<L>And we can pray even as well here as there:</L>
<L>The&s;e poor excu&s;es, they are quickly told,</L>
<L>When as God knows we pray not any where.</L>
</LG>
<P>Again, as Prayer, &s;o the Hearing of the Word is as much neglected by us, or as ill u&s;ed, when we now &s;it at Sermons, it is more perchance with a cen&s;orious ear, like Moderatours to give judgement, and pa&s;&s;e our opi|nion, rather then as diligent Auditours, with humble hearts to receive in&s;truction. If the Preacher doth but meanly perform his exerci&s;e, we are then ready to &s;light it, as a thing belowe us, and not worth our heeding: but if he go beyond us in his Learning and good parts, we are on the other &s;ide peradventure di&s;con|ted in our &s;elves, for that he exceedeth the reach of our capacity and qualification: for lo, we feel and finde as in this, &s;o in all other things (it is worth ob&s;ervation) we finde, I &s;ay, that Nature is always &s;o partial unto it &s;elf, that it is never tho|rowly plea&s;ed, and fully contented, except every
<PB N="44" REF="31">
thing &s;ucceed to the &s;etting up of it &s;elfe, and its owne advancement; and therefore that it hath got the ad|vantage, it taketh its full &s;elfe-contenting plea&s;ure, and recreation without controle; diverting the whole cour&s;e of our thoughts, words, and actions to &s;erve its turne herein: yet for although con&s;cience hath lo&s;t its prevayling command within us, neverthele&s;&s;e it cea&s;eth not ever and anon to give us a call, and perhaps amid&s;t our chiefe&s;t and &s;ecure&s;t &s;innes, awaken us with a deep touching <HI>item,</HI> and remembrance of our &s;elves; but onely fla&s;hing up our eyes wee fall a&s;leep againe: and thus act on the &s;tory.</P>
<LG>
<L>Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator,</L>
<L>Enumer at miles vulnera, pa&s;tor oves.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The Plowman of his oxe,</L>
<L>The Ship-man tels his mind,</L>
<L>The Shepherd keeps his &s;heepe,</L>
<L>The Souldier wounds in mind.</L>
</LG>
<P>Every one, &s;aith the Poet, thinks and talkes mo&s;t of that which hee hath mo&s;t to doe with, and doth mo&s;t affect; and here nature principally begins to play her part, and &s;hew her affection; our &s;elfe accu&s;ing, and im|patient mind cannot abide the rehearfall of mi&s;eries; unhappine&s;&s;e and affliction; the hideous newes of &s;uch things is too rough for our tender thoughts to meddle with; whatever come of it hereafter, we mu&s;t by all meanes put off for the pre&s;ent, as farre as may be from us that day of the Lord, and righteous retribution of his mo&s;t ju&s;t vengeance: againe, al&s;o the deadne&s;&s;e of heart maketh our &s;oule to loath abhorre and leave off to hear and &s;peak of holy and pious &s;ubjects, as the di&s;prai&s;e of vice, the commendation of vertue; the maner and means of Mortification; of Sanctification, of our Re|demption, and the like; &s;nuffling away all &s;uch matters
<PB N="45" REF="31">
if it be po&s;&s;ible, into other di&s;cour&s;e: becau&s;e we feele our hearts &s;o dead and rotten inward, that the&s;e things doe nothing el&s;e but &s;ecretly &s;peake the Condemnation and &s;hame of our owne lives: and therefore when as out of the abundance of the heart (as &s;aith our Savi|our) the mouth &s;peaketh, therefore I &s;ay on the other &s;ide, our thoughts being alwaye. for the mo&s;t part vain|ly and outwardly di&s;po&s;ed; our delight is to be talking of vanity all the day long, to be asking after, and tel|ling of newes, whereby to claw our idle phan&s;ie with, or it may be que&s;tioning how rich others be, what con|dition they are in, how they doe thrive and the like; our Melancholy thoughts mainly labouring with emulation again&s;t others: and &s;uch verily is alwayes the rivality and inward &s;triving betwixt equals, or tho&s;e that be neer equals in the &s;ame kind, that &s;ure I cannot thinke that it is a quality much le&s;&s;e then naturall unto all man|kind, &s;o to contend in affectation of de&s;ire; this emula|tion was there among&s;t the Patriarks when they &s;old <HI>Io&s;eph,</HI> and among&s;t the Apo&s;tles when they vie'd who &s;hould be the greate&s;t: and thus our minds being &s;o wholly &s;et on earthly things, and things of this world, it is &s;eldome that we can thinke upon tho&s;e men that are in a little better pro&s;perity then our &s;elves, but with the eye of envious emulation, counting it as &s;o much the wor&s;e for us, and an eye-&s;ore to our &s;tate and reputati|on that they goe beyond us; and againe taking it as it were &s;omewhat the better for us; and applauding our &s;elves in content therewith, if they fall out and appeare to be &s;omewhat under the condition that we our &s;elves are in; thus as wee doe enviou&s;ly thinke that too much which our &s;ucce&s;&s;efull neighbours have, and enjoy, and &s;well after their happine&s;&s;e with indignation at our owne; &s;o al&s;o are we many times unhappy in our own happine&s;&s;e without any compari&s;on at all, or in re&s;pect of others; but meerly in our &s;elves, and in regard of our owne bottomle&s;&s;e de&s;ires, thinking all too little that
<PB N="46" REF="32">
we have, although we do not think of any that have more; ju&s;t as the Poet, in a &s;imilitude of covetous men,</P>
<Q>Quo plus &s;unt potae plus &s;itiuntur aquae,</Q>
<P>The more they drink, the more they are athir&s;t: &s;o may we truely &s;ay of our &s;elves, in the words of the Prophet <HI>Habakkuk,</HI> Chap. 3, <HI>We enlarge our de&s;ire as hell and as death, which cannot be &s;atisfied.</HI> What we have already, methinks, &s;erves but as the &s;awce to &s;et an edge to the &s;tomack to receive more, as if we had a con&s;u|ming Wolf in our bre&s;t, or tho&s;e <HI>two daughters of the Hor&s;leech</HI> which <HI>Solomon</HI> &s;peaks of in <HI>Prov.</HI> 30, which have no other language but continual crying out, <HI>Give, give</HI> more &s;till, and yet more, and yet no content.</P>
<LG>
<L>He is not rich who&s;e minde doth keep him poor;</L>
<L>He onely hath enough, that &s;eeks no more.</L>
</LG>
<P>Nay farther, our apprehen&s;ion is apt to be &s;o &s;ubtilly deluded with this vice, that, as if avarice were a vertue, we &s;hall be ready to think and &s;ay, of any one that is an hard and unrea&s;onably-neer man in his dealings and commerce with others, and that will &s;tand out for the utmo&s;t farthing in every thing, though it be never &s;o ju&s;tly due and to be yeelded unto; of &s;uch a one, I &s;ay, who hath cunningly learnt to oppre&s;&s;e the poor man by the advantage of his nece&s;&s;ity, we &s;hall be ready thus to think and &s;ay, <HI>I warrant he is wi&s;e enough, he will look to him&s;elf, he will not be fool'd of his goods;</HI> taking his exam|ple as a lawful patern for us to imitate. But of one that is a con&s;cionable, hone&s;t and plain-dealing man, that will not &s;tand &s;o eagerly, nor practi&s;e &s;uch policie for gain; we are likely to judge him as an ea&s;ie fool, and not wi&s;e enough to live in the world. But O alas, one day, one day peradventure we &s;hall &s;ee that <HI>the wi&s;e|dom</HI>
<PB N="47" REF="32">
<HI>of this world is fooli&s;hne&s;&s;e with God;</HI> acknowledging our mi&s;take herein as they did, who once &s;aid in the &s;orrow|ful conviction of their &s;ouls: <HI>We fools counted this mans life</HI> (this quiet hone&s;t mans life) <HI>madne&s;&s;e, and his end to be without honour: but &s;ee! how is he numbred among&s;t the children of God, and his lot is among&s;t the Saints: therefore have we erred.</HI> When the &s;oul (having for&s;aken God) begins to go alone, and to tru&s;t to its own &s;trength, &s;o full do we pre&s;ently grow with &s;uperfluity of outward Sen&s;e and humane Wi&s;edom, that be we never &s;o lightly toucht with any thing which &s;eems to wa&s;te and decay our temporal &s;ub&s;i&s;tence; if once our Egyptian &s;taff, this confidence on outward things never &s;o little begin to crack; how are we ready to fall in<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">o utter de|&s;pair? <HI>Sure we cannot continue with &s;uch a charge; we cannot hold out long in &s;uch lo&s;&s;es or expences:</HI> our narrow hearts, <HI>Nabal-like,</HI> grunting and grumbling for fear that we &s;hall not have enough for our &s;elves to live by. <HI>O thou unhap|pie &s;oul of man in all di&s;tre&s;&s;es, doubts and calamities!</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>What patience or comfort can&s;t thou have,</L>
<L>Who tru&s;te&s;t in &s;uch things that cannot &s;ave?</L>
</LG>
<P>Now and then, like pri&s;oners within the Grate, we may look out into the fre&s;h air, and &s;ee the golden hap|pine&s;&s;e of the day, though we cannot get out and enjoy it: we &s;hall peradventure now &s;ometimes think upon Repentance, and gaze afar off on the joyful condition of the &s;oul, de&s;iring that we could be delivered from this bondage of &s;in: nay, and it may be we do al&s;o &s;trive &s;omewhat, and endeavour our thoughts thereunto; but alas, it takes no firm holdfa&s;t in our bre&s;ts, it goes not thorow the heart, nor &s;eriou&s;ly to the quick as it &s;hould; but &s;uddenly it pa&s;&s;eth away again without effect:
<PB N="48" REF="33">
or if it doth take any hold in us, it is very momentany &amp; of &s;hort continuance ob&s;cured quickly with the clouds of &s;inne, and altogether forgotten; for let us know that Con&s;cience even in the free&s;t and fulle&s;t pur&s;uite of &s;in is many times, &s;o reall and urgent with us, that it will not be &s;leighted, but either by excu&s;ing our &s;elves, by mitigating the nature of &s;inne, by a &s;eeming repentance, or the like, we mu&s;t needs give it &s;ome content, though it be but as a meere dulu&s;ion for the time, and to no purpo&s;e at all; but I pro&s;ecute the patterne of our in|tention; in like manner as Melancholy joyned with &s;o|litary privacy is wont to make good Meditations in the time of grace take the deeper root in nature; &s;o like|wi&s;e it being united with a retired &s;olitarine&s;&s;e maketh evill thoughts in the time of &s;inne much more &s;tub|bornely to per&s;i&s;t within us, cleaving a great deale the fa&s;ter to our apprehen&s;ion, and fixing a farre &s;ore im|pre&s;&s;ion in our &s;oules.</P>
<LG>
<L>Sad Melancholy is truly then in kind,</L>
<L>When &s;ilence locks the clo&s;et of the mind.</L>
</LG>
<P>Then doth mi&s;chiefe take greate&s;t advantage when it gets the &s;oule to be alone by her &s;elfe; for <HI>Homo &s;olus aut deus aut daemon,</HI> the &s;olitary and alone man is u&s;ually ei|ther exceeding good in his thoughts, or exceeding bad; and therefore now wee find out of due experience now I &s;ay when as grace is not able to ma&s;ter our cor|ruption, that it is much better for us to u&s;e a &s;ociable and jocund behaviour towards others, addre&s;&s;ing our &s;elves in a complying Familia ity with good hone&s;t company in civill recreation, then to be much retired alone, though it may &s;eem more &s;trict, becau&s;e this ve|rily is many times a meanes to put us from farre wor&s;e things and greater inconveniences; natures that are compo&s;ed to Melancholy, wee may fitly conceive to be much like Iron, which receives a greater heat of fire
<PB N="49" REF="33">
into it, and retains it longer then tho&s;e things which are of a rare and thin &s;ub&s;tance; for we always feel the&s;e &s;olitary, the&s;e &s;ad and melancholy &s;ins of ours to be of a far deeper dye, and to wound our Con&s;ciences more dangerou&s;ly then tho&s;e other lighter kinde of &s;ins, tho&s;e merry, as I may &s;o call them, and &s;uperficial &s;ins: the&s;e &s;ad ones, I &s;ay, are wor&s;e, becau&s;e they are moulded with deliberation in the heart, and come from a &s;etled good-will and determinate in|tention; but tho&s;e other, tho&s;e merry ones, are one|ly for the mo&s;t part as &s;udden fla&s;hes ari&s;ing more in|con&s;iderately, and pa&s;&s;ing away as a gue&s;t of one night.</P>
<P>Well, to proceed in Anatomizing the particulars of this our now &s;in-&s;ick &s;oul: <HI>The wicked,</HI> &s;aith <HI>Solomon, fleeth when none pur&s;ueth him.</HI> An evil Con&s;cience having moved the foundation of our Spiritual comfort, eve|ry bu&s;h is a thief with us, every thing becomes our enemy, though not really, yet in conceit. How often and how apt are we now pre&s;ently to terrifie, di&s;qui|et and affright our &s;elves at nothing, perchance but at the very &s;hadow of things? for but thus, if we fall out with any neighbour or others into enmity and di&s;|content; if but once we drink into our bre&s;ts a per|fect di&s;ta&s;te, there's no dige&s;ting, no forgetting, nothing but vexing in our &s;ouls: &s;o many eager, fearing and fretful thoughts do con&s;tantly boyl up in our &s;tomacks again&s;t him, that from thence for a good while toge|ther, whole clouds of fears, of doubts and di&s;tempers do &s;ollicitou&s;ly overwhelm and pa&s;&s;e over our heads: &s;o that &s;pecially if we &s;peak not with the party in a pretty &s;pace after, our clo&s;e-kept thoughts are peradventure full of expecting his &s;uppo&s;ed malice is ready to do us the greate&s;t mi&s;chief that may be, and &s;o again are we there|upon hatching and preparing perchance like motions of revenge again&s;t him, conceiving &s;ome cruel tyrany wher|with to &s;atisfie our &s;elves upon him, little con&s;idering
<PB N="50" REF="34">
that all this while for the mo&s;t part we do but fight with our own fancie, fearing where no fear is, and concei|ving revenge where there is no cau&s;e of revenge: for at length having &s;poken with our adver&s;ary, and un|folded our &s;elves together, we &s;hall mo&s;t times finde that he hath &s;carce had any the lea&s;t ill imagination a|gain&s;t us; and &s;o by a true hearted di&s;clo&s;ing our minde one to the other, we are perhaps ea&s;ily undecei|ved, and become friends again: whereas the muing up our &s;elves from our enemy in a melancholy &s;trangene&s;&s;e and &s;quint-ey'd retire, might breed a continual and a deep Con&s;cience-wounding grudge betwixt us.</P>
<LG>
<L>The &s;ullen man that's di&s;content.</L>
<L>bis life ne'er wanteth wo:</L>
<L>If nothing el&s;e will him torment,</L>
<L>his fancie proves his fo.</L>
</LG>
<P>Moreover, the peevi&s;hne&s;&s;e of our Nature, in like manner, for want of the confirming &s;trength of Grace, is always apt to con&s;true the words and actions of our enemy to the wor&s;t, taking every thing to be done by him either in de&s;pight, or malicious di&s;grace and con|tempt of us; eagerly affecting and troubling our &s;elves with that conceited fury of our enemy, which per|chance is not in him; or if it be, it is that thing which we ought rather to pity then fight with; even common Chri&s;tianity teaching us to have more wit and godly advi&s;edne&s;&s;e, then as <HI>Solomon</HI> &s;aith, <HI>to meddle with a fool in his folly,</HI> or with a mad-man in his madne&s;&s;e; with an unmanly weakne&s;&s;e o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> minde childi&s;hly in the &s;ame &s;en&s;e to reply again to that his madne&s;&s;e and fury; but in &s;tead thereof rather mildly and charitably to enter|tain his fooli&s;h humour, knowing our &s;elves al&s;o &s;ubject unto all infirmities. But we cannot refrain; this is our humour; we mu&s;t needs deal back again the words and deeds that we do receive. Alas, how &s;weet is the de|&s;ire
<PB N="51" REF="34">
of Retaliation and Revenge to the &s;olitary nature, being without the directing power of Godline&s;&s;e? how can we put up &s;uch and &s;uch things? how can we chu&s;e but retort again, <HI>Oh that we were &s;o rich, &s;o powerful as thus and thus? what an happine&s;&s;e were it then for us to be able to cru&s;h our enemies, and to cut them off as we would de&s;ire?</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>Invidi&acirc; Siculi non invenere Tyranni</L>
<L>Tormentum majus----------------</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Envy's a greater torture to the minde</L>
<L>Then the Sicilian Tyrants ere did finde.</L>
</LG>
<P>This is Envie, to our &s;ouls the very devil of all &s;ins, that helli&s;h tormentor of a melancholy minde, which wearies our thoughts with continual angui&s;h and vexa|tion of &s;pirit. <HI>O Lord, when we well con&s;ider the whole &s;cope of a &s;inful man, or this</HI> man of &s;in <HI>which is within us, we can|not chu&s;e but think how true it is which the Prophet</HI> I&s;aiah <HI>&s;peaks by thy &s;pecial command,</HI> I&s;ai. 48. 22. <HI>that</HI> there is no peace unto the wicked: <HI>no peace, I &s;ay, not onely in regard of the &s;ting of con&s;cience which follows &s;in, but al&s;o in regard of the en&s;naring and toil&s;ome trouble of &s;in it &s;elf&punc; Wo is us true|ly, no peace indeed; with one thing or other we are &s;till out of quiet, either &s;in by n<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">u&s;eating di&s;tempers doth di&s;turb the health of the body, or by laborious and far engaged pa&s;&s;ions doth un&s;et|tle the re&s;t of the minde. What peace at all is there long with|in us? either immoderate fear, or care, or grief, or de&s;ire, is ever oppre&s;&s;ing our thoughts.</HI> And here ob&s;erve it, whil&s;t that we walk with God, we are methinks fenc'd about with his favour, &s;o that none can hurt us; for his An|gels do pitch their tents for a guard round about them that &s;erve him. But now for want of faith, what do we not fear? how far without rea&s;on doth this pa&s;&s;ion ex|tend in our melancholy &s;oul, even almo&s;t into an infi|nite conceit? for as a Circle made in the water begets another Circle bigger then it &s;elf, and &s;o that another
<PB N="52" REF="35">
again bigger then it &s;elf, encrea&s;ing thus I know not how far; ju&s;t &s;o the doubts and fears of our minde, by &s;olitary plodding upon them, will beget bigger and bigger, and &s;o bigger &s;till without end: thus where there is no faith, there is no end of fear: fear and un|belief have the like proportion in us, and mu&s;t needs go hand in hand together, as it is <HI>Revel.</HI> 21, <HI>the fearful, and unbelieving, and abominable,</HI> &amp;c. Again, what trou|bles doth the minde now many times undergo in the immoderate hoe and care for things to come, in labour|ing to prevent and provide for &s;uch and &s;uch accidents, with the utmo&s;t of our power.</P>
<LG>
<L>And yet perchance it doth no whit prevail;</L>
<L>A &s;trange event makes all our labour fail.</L>
</LG>
<P>Many, even many is the time that we are un&s;peakably vext with the forethinking and contriving of that which in the end never comes to pa&s;&s;e; I &s;ay, vext by framing of hopes, of intendments, and expectations upon the&s;e and the&s;e things, which mo&s;t times one means or other, Gods providence or death doth quite di&s;appoint and cut off, according as it is in <HI>P&s;alm</HI> 146. 4; for <HI>when the breath of man goeth forth, he &s;hall return to his earth, and then all his thoughts peri&s;h:</HI> all his thoughts, even all the former hopes, expectations and imaginations of his heart: <HI>Ble&s;&s;ed therefore, ble&s;&s;ed is he,</HI> as it follows in the next ver&s;e, <HI>that hath the God of Jacob for his hope, and who&s;e tru&s;t is in the Lord his God.</HI> Ble&s;&s;ed is he that herein can take the <HI>ea&s;ie yoke</HI> of our Saviour upon him, by ca&s;ting his care upon God; thereby &s;aving all that needle&s;&s;e labour of too earne&s;t carefulne&s;&s;e and di|&s;tru&s;ting trouble of minde <HI>for the morrow,</HI> becau&s;e <HI>&s;uffi|cient for the day is</HI> its own trouble.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="53" REF="35">
<L>But to tell on the &s;ouls unquiet &s;tate,</L>
<L>When &s;in doth thus become predominate,</L>
</LG>
<P>So uncontented and &s;o eagerly frappi&s;h are we apt to be, through the unea&s;ine&s;&s;e of the &s;oul for want of true inward re&s;t and &s;atisfaction; I &s;ay, &s;o full of wrath, of pa&s;&s;ion and anger in all our thoughts, bu&s;ine&s;&s;es and affairs, that the lea&s;t and &s;malle&s;t occa&s;ion, is enough to make us fret, chafe, aed be mo&s;t furiou&s;ly moved with tho&s;e either equals or inferiours with whom we have to do; we cannot chu&s;e but un&s;heath our pa&s;&s;io|nate fury and outragious di&s;turbance, into cniding and unquietne&s;&s;e; we can by no means bridle our &s;elves in the lea&s;t degree; our humour mu&s;t have its cour&s;e; and then perchance afterwards, our thoughts reflecting up|on them&s;elves, do &s;ecretly check us, and make us &s;orry again for this our ra&s;hne&s;&s;e, heartily wi&s;hing that we had not done &s;o, and that we were at one with the par|ty as before; onely that we be loth to confe&s;&s;e &s;o much, or bewray the acknowledgement of our own errour. See the di&s;quieting unhappine&s;&s;e of &s;in! If we do not thus vent our wrath, we can be at no re&s;t for fretting inwardly: and if we do vent it, we are di&s;plea&s;ed with our &s;elves for doing it impatiently and undi&s;creetly: others cannot plea&s;e us, and we cannot plea&s;e our &s;elves: What peaceful harmony of concord or content can there then be to our &s;ouls? I &s;ay, Others cannot plea&s;e us; for nature hath &s;o out of all rea&s;on bent us to our own cour&s;es, to our own minde, to our own wills in every thing, <HI>ut fer&egrave; nihil placet quod non no&s;trum e&s;t;</HI> that almo&s;t nothing contents us, but that which is of our own doing and contri|ving; it even cuts to the gall to be any way cro&s;&s;ed and contradicted in our intentions and de&s;ires: when we have once took an opinion, let it be ad|vi&s;ed by whom it will be, &s;tiff-neck'd nature being
<PB N="54" REF="36">
uncontroll'd by grace, it is &s;o ob&s;tinate in her own &s;en&s;e, that 'tis as death for her not to have it go and be ac|knowledged in her own way; and therefore let it fadge how it will, we mu&s;t, I &s;ay, we mu&s;t needs prevail in contending, though it be for the wor&s;e: and when at length we have thus peradventure through much diffi|culty obtained our de&s;ire, and gotten our wills fulfill'd, even then al&s;o are not our thoughts happie therein: though for the pre&s;ent it might &s;eem to delight us, yet are we not long well plea&s;ed therewith in our &s;elves; nay, perhaps that al&s;o in the end gives our minde little &s;atisfaction; 'tis nothing but our conceit, nothing but that we would have it &s;o, and then would it had not been &s;o; this is the cour&s;e of it: &s;o little peace of minde is there to that &s;oul which is without God, and left alone in the &s;nare of &s;in.</P>
<P>Sure enough it is, O let us ob&s;erve it; I &s;ay, Sure enough, that our own will is always our wor&s;t enemy, could we but con&s;ider it: nay methinks, for all &s;he &s;eems to be as our onely friend, yet in truth we have no other enemy can do us hurt, but onely her: not the malice of all the creatures, men and devils in the world, are able to bring upon us the lea&s;t unhappine&s;&s;e without her help.</P>
<LG>
<L>He that can then his own affections quell,</L>
<L>Doth even as much as if he conquer'd hell.</L>
</LG>
<P>It is this Own &s;elf and Will of ours that parts us from God, joyns us in &s;ociety with the devil; and thus brings us at length (if not prevented by Grace) to the certain de&s;truction both of body and &s;oul. It is our Saviours coun&s;el, that if our <HI>eye, hand,</HI> or other mem|ber <HI>offend us,</HI> we &s;hould <HI>cut it off, and ca&s;t it from us:</HI> this doubtle&s;&s;e is a mo&s;t difficult thing, a hard &s;aying, for a man to cut off his own fle&s;h, that which is &s;o clo&s;e and neer unto him, and indeed I believe that wholly to
<PB N="55" REF="36">
part our &s;elves from our &s;elves, is to divide <HI>indivi&s;ibil&egrave;,</HI> that which as long as we continue mortal men, is not to be divided: but to cut off tho&s;e rank grown extrava|gancies of our wills, this proud fle&s;h, the&s;e limbs of the devil, that mu&s;t needs be done, if we mean to follow Chri&s;t, and enter into heaven, unle&s;&s;e together with them we will be ca&s;t into hell fire, to follow Chri&s;t: for this is the right way to follow him, by <HI>denying our &s;elves;</HI> becau&s;e we plainly finde both by his mo&s;t holy Doctrine, <HI>Mark</HI> 8. 34, and Example, <HI>Mark</HI> 14. 36, that his bu&s;i|ne&s;&s;e in this world was not to do any thing of his own will, the will of man, but in all things <HI>the will of him that &s;ent him,</HI> even the will of God.</P>
<P>But further; to &s;ee what a deal of trouble and un|quietne&s;&s;e is there always &s;tirring in the &s;inful minde of man? what a re&s;tle&s;&s;e vexation another while do the ambitious projects and a&s;piring motions of our vain imagination put us unto? even &s;o far, that &s;ure me|thinks it is an Ixion's task, or as a Bridewell-work to undergo the toil that &s;uch encroaching and climing thoughts many times torment us with. How doth our fancie labour to be &s;o great, &s;o high, &s;o rich, that we had &s;uch an office or e&s;tate, that we were in the condi|tion of &s;uch a man and &s;uch a man? and thus when we have vainly &s;uppo&s;ed &s;o far and &s;o far; when, like the Giants of whom the Poets do fable, we have &s;et one mountain of ambitious de&s;ires upon another, yet then at la&s;t are we as far from &s;atisfaction as they were from heaven.</P>
<P>Again, in the pro&s;ecution of our earthly policy, when the event of things that do much concern us fru&s;trates our expectation, our lowe creeping mindes, that &s;acri|fice onely to their own nets, to their own skill and wi&s;edom; how do they &s;narl them&s;elves in blinde con|jectures? <HI>Lo, this doubtle&s;&s;e was the cau&s;e that our bu&s;ine&s;&s;e took not effect; it &s;hould have been done by &s;uch or &s;uch a means, it &s;uch or &s;uch a time, with the&s;e or the&s;e Circum&s;tances;</HI> <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">yring
<PB N="56" REF="37">
out our &s;elves to &s;eek the rea&s;on thereof, like tho&s;e blinde men that &s;ought <HI>Lot</HI>'s door and could not finde it; never thinking all this while on the Divine provi|dence, which directeth all things, towards which our thoughts ought to aim their fir&s;t and chief regard: and therefore it is that oftentimes we do try &s;o many ways, &s;pend &s;o much time, break &s;o many nights &s;leep, to no purpo&s;e: for &s;ure, <HI>Except the Lord keep the Citie,</HI> all our la|bour is lo&s;t, <HI>the watchman waketh but in vain.</HI> As <HI>Jehu</HI> an|&s;wered <HI>Jehoram,</HI> 2 <HI>Kings</HI> 9, &s;o may we an&s;wer our thoughts, and with &s;ufficient experience re&s;olve our &s;elves; <HI>What peace,</HI> content or re&s;t <HI>can there be, &s;o long as</HI> this <HI>Jezebel</HI> of &s;in raigns and remains within us?</P>
<LG>
<L>No peace within, nor yet no peace without,</L>
<L>But full of troubles, toils, and fears, and doubt.</L>
<L>Our peace with all things utterly doth cea&s;e,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e with God we do not make our peace.</L>
</LG>
<P>And thus on every &s;ide we both &s;ee and feel it, even too much, to our own grief, That <HI>there is no peace unto the wicked.</HI> The man of Sin, is a man of Trouble; trou|ble in his minde with the di&s;tractions of &s;in; trouble in his con&s;cience with fear of judgement; every way di&s;turbed and out of re&s;t: and yet lo, for all this, that there is &s;o much unquietne&s;&s;e, and trouble, and di&s;|content in our &s;innes, we are &s;o &s;trongly hampered and engaged therein, that there is no power in us to break off <HI>the bands</HI> thereof, or <HI>ca&s;t away</HI> her <HI>cords from us:</HI> through the habituated continuance there|in, it is &s;o hard and difficult for us to repent, I mean, fully and perfectly to repent, that it goes e|ven again&s;t might to think of making up a reckon|ing and an account with God: we are &s;o totally as it were turned into &s;in it &s;elf, I mean, &s;uch an in|vincible di&s;po&s;ition of &s;inning in all our conver&s;ation,
<PB N="57" REF="37">
that O <HI>who &s;hall deliver us from this body of death?</HI> what cour&s;e can we take to come out of this unhap|pine&s;&s;e? 'Tis high time to look about us, to rai&s;e our thoughts to &s;ome better notions: but &s;uch is the difficulty of true Repentance, that we cannot go thorow &s;titch with it; but this and this opportunity is &s;till put off with excu&s;es, with the pre&s;umptuous and flattering conceit that Gods mercy is infinite; we have had often and often trial of it; <HI>Doubtle&s;&s;e we &s;hall have &s;ome better time and more fitting &s;ea&s;on hereafter.</HI> But we who finde it &s;o hard a matter at this time, a thou|&s;and to one but that we finde it more difficult the next: the longer we continue in &s;in without due Repentance, the more methinks are we entangled with it, and day|ly &s;narl'd the fa&s;ter from getting out. O therefore let us take heed in time, and duely <HI>con&s;ider this, all we that</HI> now <HI>forget God;</HI> Con&s;ider this, I &s;ay, whil&s;t we have time afforded us, le&s;t in his wrath he &s;udden|ly pluck us away, and there be none to deli|ver us.</P>
<P>Here it is ob&s;ervable, according to what I have formerly intimated, that, though not u&s;ually, yet &s;ome|times the Con&s;cience is &s;o cunningly daub'd up, that it &s;eems within us to be as well &s;atisfied with the out|ward formality of Religion, as if it were in the &s;tate of grace and true reconciliation: <HI>our mouthes</HI> and the out&s;ide of our thoughts do <HI>draw neer</HI> unto God, when-as <HI>our hearts,</HI> the true depth of our heart, <HI>is far from</HI> him, even full of nothing but dead mens bones, the rottenne&s;&s;e and corruption of &s;in: we are, I &s;ay, thus &s;o &s;moothly deluded in our &s;elves, that we can &s;eem boldly to chalenge acquaintance with Chri&s;t, and per|haps think that we are able to boa&s;t of great matters in his Name, and yet for all that peradventure as it was with tho&s;e in the Go&s;pel, <HI>Mat.</HI> 7. peradventure, I &s;ay, Chri&s;t him&s;elf may never &s;o much as know or ac|knowledge one jot of Chri&s;tianity within us: but
<PB N="58" REF="38">
this deceitfulne&s;&s;e of Religion, this &s;uperficial delight is ea&s;ily di&s;cerned, if we mark it well, both by our &s;elves and others, in that it is frequently wont to vent it &s;elf into a partial &s;iding, contentious talking, part-taking and debating as tho&s;e of whom the Apo|&s;tle &s;peaks, that fell out about their Religion; <HI>I am of Paul, I am of Apollo, I am of Cephas;</HI> taking the &s;ha|dow for the &s;ub&s;tance, and mi&s;taking the truth thereof, as though it were a thing &s;o &s;hallowly &s;eated in the &s;oul, that it con&s;i&s;ted in wittine&s;&s;e of di&s;cour&s;e, &s;harp under&s;tanding, following of Opinions, and the like: no verily, <HI>the Kingdom of heaven,</HI> Religion and godli|ne&s;&s;e, <HI>is</HI> not without, as our Saviour &s;aith, but <HI>within us,</HI> even in the dre&s;&s;ing, ordering and managing of our own &s;ouls. Indeed</P>
<LG>
<L>Our Knowledge without Charity may &s;well</L>
<L>Into Contentious &s;trivings full of pride:</L>
<L>But true Religion in that heart doth dwell,</L>
<L>Where patience, love, and humble thoughts abide.</L>
</LG>
<P>what ever or however the Con&s;cience, as I &s;ay, may thus be deluded and held in &s;ome plea&s;ing &s;atisfaction, finely skinned over for a while with the upper part of Religion; yet in the truth of it, the wound that is &s;o deep, is not &s;o ea&s;ily cured; this &s;infulne&s;&s;e of the minde here &s;poken of, having gotten &s;uch time and li|berty with us, is not without great difficulty&punc; deep &s;or|row, many prayers, and much carefulne&s;&s;e, took off a|gain: and therefore till we can by Gods &s;pecial mercy attain unto this thorow piercing and happie Repen|tance, there is none &s;o &s;overaign and helpful a means to prevent the dangerous encrea&s;e thereof, as is the con|&s;tant following of a good employment, ever to be do|ing in one indu&s;trious action or another, according to the quality and manner of our life, even in one hone&s;t action or other, though it be but to little advantage:
<PB N="59" REF="38">
&s;o that the Rule is very true, <HI>Prae&s;tat orio&s;um e&s;&s;e, quam nihil agere;</HI> It were far better for us to be in action with that which is to no purpo&s;e, &s;o that we do not &s;in in it, then to &s;it &s;till and be altogether idle: for alas, we do by woful experience finde, that Idlene&s;&s;e is rightly na|med The devils Cu&s;hion; being &s;eldome out of one &s;in or other, whil&s;t we are out of action in &s;ome good employment: This Cu&s;hion makes the devil &s;o ea&s;ie a &s;eat, that it is even an invincible work to remove him from our idle &s;ouls, or make him &s;it away: this is his &s;eat, I &s;ay, and his &s;hop too; here he freely &s;its and plyes his utmo&s;t skill, to mould our thoughts to the very wickedne&s;&s;e of his hearts de&s;ire; here he &s;its forging and fa&s;hioning all the uglie&s;t forms of &s;in, and foule&s;t mon&s;ters of impiety that ever entred into the heart of man: there is no &s;in &s;o great, &s;o helli&s;h and inhumane, but Idlene&s;&s;e hath been the means to hatch it into the world.</P>
<LG>
<L>Quaeritur Aegi&s;tus quare &s;it factus adulter,</L>
<L>In promptu cau&s;a e&s;t, de&s;idio&s;us erat.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>If you demand Aegi&s;tus why</L>
<L>He did commit adultery;</L>
<L>The cau&s;e is ea&s;ie to be &s;een,</L>
<L>Becau&s;e he hath &s;o idle been.</L>
</LG>
<P>And as it hatcheth all &s;ins in the &s;oul, &s;o of all other is it the mo&s;t kindly Nur&s;e of lu&s;t and fle&s;hly de&s;ire in our melancholy nature. How doth the fancie hereby become polluted and mo&s;t gro&s;ly defiled with all kinde of ba&s;ene&s;&s;e and ob&s;cenity? what inventions doth it frame for the provocation of lu&s;t? how clo&s;ely doth it make us hug the amorous conceits of our en&s;laved fancie&punc; nay, how do we many times hereby &s;o deeply infect our thoughts with this kinde of vitiou&s;ne&s;&s;e, that like Lime twigs they are ready to catch hold on every
<PB N="60" REF="39">
object, converting it to &s;ome libidinous and wanton mo|tion, the which perchance &s;ometimes doth cling &s;o fa&s;t unto us, that we can &s;carcely draw off again our ima|gination from it.</P>
<P>Again, Idlene&s;&s;e and Luxury, the exce&s;&s;e of eating and drinking, either in quantity or quality; I &s;ay, <HI>fulne&s;&s;e of bread, and abundance of Idlene&s;&s;e,</HI> are con&s;tant compani|ons together: we that are idle, mu&s;t needs be luxuri|ous one way or other. And if Saint <HI>Paul</HI> &s;aid that the idle per&s;on was not worthy to eat or drink at all; how often and how much do we &s;in, when as the vanity of our idle &s;ouls cau&s;eth us to wa&s;te &s;o much in &s;uperfluity, who are not worthy of &s;ufficiency? O alas, &s;o we live many times, as if we were created for nothing el&s;e but to eat and drink. Sure this is not the lea&s;t, if not the greate&s;t of our &s;ins: for if ab&s;tinence be the chiefe&s;t help to mortifie the fle&s;h, certainly luxury is the chiefe&s;t means to quench all goodne&s;&s;e of the Spirit: and there|fore &s;ee in the Go&s;pel the devils de&s;ire to enter into the Swine; we hear of no other creature that at any time they de&s;ired to enter into, but onely, I &s;ay, into the gluttonous Swine, that of all other creatures being mo&s;t uncleanly addicted to its belly; &s;o fit an habitation is the gluttonous and luxurious &s;oul for nothing but devils, but &s;in and uncleanne&s;&s;e.</P>
<P>But further with the &s;tory: our whole man is &s;o ut|terly disframed and disjoynted with &s;in, that there is no part but is out of order. When we &s;eriou&s;ly reflect on our &s;elves and our &s;o great imperfections, we cannot but fetch from within us many a deep &s;igh, to grieve at this our &s;o great untowardne&s;&s;e, thinking thus; <HI>How much are we now behinde the condition o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> the righteous? how mi|&s;erably do we mi&s;pend our time in being va&s;&s;als unto Satan, and working our own damnation, who might in this time, &s;o ill wa&s;ted, have as well made a good progre&s;&s;e towards heaven, and attained unto much comfort and proficiency in Religion? O <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ow do we want that light of under&s;tanding and re|tention</HI>
<PB N="61" REF="39">
<HI>of Memory in good things which we ought to have? how void are we of devotion to Godwards, that Charitablene&s;&s;e of affection towards our brethren which we ob&s;erve in others, that patience and cheerfulne&s;&s;e in trou|bles, that manly con&s;tancy in ruling the motions of the &s;oul, as grief, fear, hope, and the like?</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>O we alone, we are in each degree</L>
<L>So frail with &s;in, there's none &s;o frail as we.</L>
</LG>
<P>For behold, we are &s;o crazed and weakned in all the &s;trength and con&s;tancy of our minde through &s;in, that every pa&s;&s;ion is able to overturn us: either we are too much in fear of the roaring waves of calamity in this world, or too much in love with the plea&s;ing vanities thereof; either we are too hot with the joy of pro|&s;perity, or too cold with the grief of adver&s;ity; over|joy'd with the tickling exaltation of the one, or faint|heartedly dejected and ca&s;t down with the other: but of the&s;e two &s;pecially ought we to be careful and take good heed; there is always, as we may finde, a more principal danger in the joy of pro&s;perity; for, &s;aith <HI>Mo&s;es,</HI> Deut. 6, <HI>When thou ha&s;t eaten and art full, then be|ware le&s;t thou forget the Lord,</HI> &amp;c. Narrow ve&s;&s;els are quickly over-fill'd: then, then, I &s;ay, in our pro&s;perity do we feel our &s;elves ready to run over the capacity of moderation, apt to grow lawle&s;&s;e with unlimited pride, and to forget our reverence to that God which hath created us, and always doth &s;o great things for us: and therefore it was that <HI>David</HI> &s;aid <HI>It is good for me that I have been in trouble.</HI> Happie is the man that is always bal|la&s;ted with &s;uch a con&s;tant &s;tedfa&s;tne&s;&s;e of minde, that let the winde blowe which way it will, can carry his affecti|on with an upright, &s;etled and indifferent moderation; can hold him fa&s;t by God in all changes of this life, patiently
<PB N="62" REF="40">
hoping in him in adver&s;ity, humbly rejoycing in him in pro&s;perity, &s;o to rule him&s;elf with Saint <HI>Pauls</HI> re&s;ol|vedne&s;&s;e of minde, <HI>Phil.</HI> 4, <HI>At all times, and in what&s;oe|ver &s;tate he be,</HI> as <HI>therewith to be content</HI> with &s;atiety, and yet not drunken with exce&s;&s;e. See the folly of a &s;in|ner, and &s;trange be&s;otted ignorance of our thoughts. Behold,</P>
<LG>
<L>We fear the face of man, poor &s;inful man,</L>
<L>When of the God of heaven we little &s;can.</L>
</LG>
<P>though we have not much care of it, that our faults are all naked in the pre&s;ence of God, that the Searcher of hearts knoweth the depth of them, and that they lie open plain enough before our Con&s;ciences, yet by no means we would that men &s;hould know &s;o much of us; no, let &s;elf-loving nature alone to be &s;ure to take heed of this, that no body know it but our &s;elves: Oh, we may in no wi&s;e bewray our infirmities in any particulars: what vain fig-leaves of poor &s;hifts and excu&s;es do we &s;o we together to cover us with, rather then we will be guilty in the &s;ight of men: we &s;hall chu&s;e rather, many times, to make two &s;ins of one, then di&s;credit our &s;elves by Confe&s;&s;ion; as thus: Pe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">chance when we are re|proved for our untowardne&s;&s;e, reprehended for our vi|ces, or any thing el&s;e be &s;poken which is har&s;h unto us, pre&s;ently is our head&s;trong and &s;elf-accu&s;ing nature all on fire with &s;pite&s;ul &s;corn and ill-will again&s;t it, either moved with &s;o much di&s;temper as malitiou&s;ly to revile the party, or el&s;e &s;o deeply &s;tung with inward unquiet|ne&s;&s;e, as un&s;oberly to depart the place, not abiding to hear it any longer; &s;uch is our impatient de&s;ire of cre|dit, our &s;elf-ju&s;tifying honour on our own parts: But on the other &s;ide, to hear the di&s;prai&s;es and reproofs of others, to hear their credit broken by the tongue of en|vie, that methinks is a contentment and recreation to us; or &s;pecially when we meet with them who are en|clin'd
<PB N="63" REF="40">
to &s;peak again&s;t &s;uch parties that are out of our liking, then it is meat and drink to us to &s;ay Amen, and joyn with them in the like malevolent and di&s;graceful &s;peeches. We are, I &s;ay, mo&s;t impatient of reproof, &s;pecially if it be laid either &s;harp and clo&s;ely unto us, or tedious and over urgent: and truely, though reproof ought humbly to be taken as &s;ent from God ju&s;tly for our &s;ins, yet many times, through the rigotous applica|tion thereof, it proves to our evil natures not onely un|profitable, but hurtful, for we finde that when a wicked pa&s;&s;ion, on what&s;oever occa&s;ion, is &s;tirred up in the height of its fury, 'tis hard to be bridled, and dangerous to be dealt withal: <HI>Cain's countenance fell</HI> with furious indignation, <HI>Gen.</HI> 4. 5, and lo the &s;ad effect, it is but the eighth Ver&s;e that he <HI>&s;lew his brother Abel.</HI> It is here worth the marking, that &s;ometimes and in &s;ome of us the &s;mooth facility of minde can perhaps je&s;t out, or plea&s;antly put off tho&s;e &s;elf-&s;ame &s;ins and di&s;graces which the rough &s;eriou&s;ne&s;&s;e of others doth take with a great deal of indignation, di&s;content and &s;hame: the rea&s;on thereof partly without doubt is the different di&s;|po&s;ition of nature, and partly al&s;o the experienced po|licy of &s;in; for &s;in, when it is u&s;ed and practi&s;ed in the &s;oul, like an old Fox, grows more cunning and politick to conceal it &s;elf; it can make its guiltine&s;&s;e &s;eem to be innocence, its covetou&s;ne&s;&s;e &s;eem to be liberality, its pride humility, <HI>&amp;c. Herod-like</HI> becoming &s;eemingly vertuous, when it is never a whit the le&s;&s;e, but rather the more truely vitious. But further with the real di&s;|covery of our &s;elves. Moreover, as the dogged mo|ro&s;ity of our minde is frequently apparent in our beha|viour towards our friends, in our dealing with &s;trangers, and other like in&s;tances that may be quickly remembred, &s;o al&s;o is our grudging unthankfulne&s;&s;e not a little be|fore God, and in reference to his Maje&s;tie: So that when lo&s;&s;es or cro&s;&s;es do befal us, our words are u&s;ually the&s;e or &s;uch like: <HI>This is hard fortune, there is no body &s;o</HI>
<PB N="64" REF="41">
<HI>unhappie as we; we I warrant have the wor&s;t lot and portio<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> of all men;</HI> fooli&s;hly not at all heeding the frequent mi&s;eries of others daily before our eyes, that rod of Gods correction which is imparted to our neighbours peradventure at the &s;ame pre&s;ent, and doth it may be in many degrees go beyond ours; if not, at the lea&s;t|wi&s;e we may remember how far the afflictions of poor <HI>Job</HI> do outgo our greate&s;t &s;ufferings, and yet he &s;its em|bracing the dunghil with the&s;e words in his mouth, <HI>The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; ble&s;&s;ed be the Name of the Lord.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>Have we receiv'd all good from him &s;o long,</L>
<L>And &s;hall he think that now he doth us wrong?</L>
</LG>
<P>O the perver&s;e impatiency of our &s;inful nature, when our minde at fir&s;t is newly wounded with our misfor|tunes, and whil&s;t that it is in a fre&s;h and yet-bleeding remembrance with us, what cur&s;ed and even nothing el&s;e but madly di&s;contented imaginations do there ri&s;e up and occur unto our mindes? how full of raging and ma&s;terle&s;&s;e thoughts are we? &s;o that if we go a|bout never &s;o little to &s;top the furious current of them, and to turn nece&s;&s;ity into a vertue, by applying the con|&s;ideration of it to &s;ome contentful u&s;e or good re&s;o|lution, our wicked pa&s;&s;ion mo&s;t times is &s;o unruly with di&s;content, that by no means can we over-ma&s;ter or bring it into the &s;ubjection of any &s;ober thoughts: Which being &s;o, we mu&s;t needs for the pre&s;ent let it &s;lack, and altogether as much as po&s;&s;ible exclude it out of the minde, if that haply afterwards our pa&s;&s;ion be|ing allayed and more rea&s;onable, we may con&s;ider it with &s;ome di&s;cretion; &s;o hard a thing as I &s;ay is it to wre&s;tle with a di&s;turbed pa&s;&s;ion in its exce&s;&s;e: and truely, as &s;in grows on in the &s;oul, &s;o the pa&s;&s;ions of our minde grow further and further into exce&s;&s;e and immoderate di&s;tempers.</P>
<P><PB N="65" REF="41">
Sin when it getteth much &s;trength within, is me|thinks of all things in the world mo&s;t like unto the pe|&s;tilence: the Pe&s;tilence, when the height of the di&s;|ea&s;e is upon a man, makes him, even as phrenzie, di&s;tem|pered with the violence thereof; &s;o as, I &s;ay, &s;in doth here unhinge all the affections of the &s;oul into a furious and madly-behaving humour, when it flies much out of rea&s;on into an immoderate exce&s;&s;e. The Pe&s;tilence when it worketh a full infection, is a di&s;ea&s;e very mortal and deadly, &s;o that few e&s;cape it: &s;o &s;in, when a man is much over gone therewith, bringeth the &s;oul into a very &s;ad and dangerous condition; and it is the effect of Gods greate&s;t mercy that we do overcome it. La&s;tly, the Pe&s;tilence, that grand mi&s;ery of Mankinde, is u&s;ually attended upon with many inferiour mi&s;chiefs; as the Mea&s;les, Small Pox, and the like: &s;o &s;in, tho&s;e great exorbitancies of the minde, which are truely the mi&s;ery of all mi&s;eries, and cau&s;e of all mi&s;eries unto us men, are ever accompanied with &s;maller inconvenien|ces and vanities of conver&s;ation: And &s;o then, what with greater &s;ins, and le&s;&s;er vanities, we may now well &s;ay with the Preacher, <HI>Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>There is no word, no deed, no, not a thought</L>
<L>In us, but's vain and altogether nought.</L>
</LG>
<P>I &s;ay, What are all our thoughts, our words and deeds but vain, even of no weight, &s;ub&s;tance and &s;oli|dity? for, know thou, O my &s;oul, that <HI>nihil e&s;t non va|num, quod non ad aeternitatem pertinet;</HI> that all that is vain, which aims not at eternity. Tho&s;e thoughts, th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;e words, tho&s;e works, which peri&s;h, and do not ac|company and follow us into heaven, that we may there for ever rejoyce of them; tho&s;e, all tho&s;e, I &s;ay, are vain and idle, and &s;uch whereof
<PB N="66" REF="42">
we mu&s;t be &s;ure, as our Saviour &s;aith, to <HI>give an ac|count:</HI> and thus through our &s;o totally depraved con|dition of &s;in, all that is within us is become vanity, and lighter then vanity it &s;elf; our thoughts think vanity and nothing but vanity: we &s;ay to our &s;elves, <HI>What profit is there in &s;erving the Lord? do not things fall out and pro&s;per as well with the wicked as the righte|ous? Doubtle&s;&s;e, he that dwelleth on high regardeth it not; and there is no difference unto us.</HI></P>
<P>Again, we think fooli&s;hly, <HI>Hath not God &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> chained the cour&s;e of things by his Eternal Prede&s;tination to &s;uch and &s;uch periods and events, that the fatal bo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">nds and decree thereof we can by means fru&s;trate? Alter it we cannot; how then is it in us to do good or to do evil? 'tis not our fault that we are not &s;aved, we could not &s;in, bad <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e not appointed it; and we cannot avoid it, becau&s;e he hath appointed it.</HI></P>
<P>Thus we many times ignorantly judge and con|ceive that Gods ways are as our ways: but he &s;hall one day convince and reprove us; he &s;hall &s;et our &s;ins before us, making our Con&s;ciences truely to con|fe&s;&s;e, that <HI>Thou, O Lord, art good, art holy, righteous and ju&s;t; but it is we</HI> of our &s;elves <HI>that have &s;inned,</HI> done wickedly and &s;tubbornly, gone a&s;tray from thy Com|mandments.</P>
<P>Our thoughts think nothing but vanity. Such is the vain &s;ingularity of our intentions in any thing which is of moment or con&s;iderablene&s;&s;e, that we contem|ptuou&s;ly &s;light and lightly regard to follow the com|mon manner and fa&s;hion, always aiming at &s;ome rare and unu&s;ual way, thereby to be advanced into a more general note and eminent reckoning. Such al&s;o is the vain di&s;dainfulne&s;&s;e and height of our minde, as to think o&s;tentimes the&s;e and the&s;e our inferiours not good enough to have any familiarity or boldne&s;&s;e with us, to be accepted or taken notice of in our com|pany, or the like.</P>
<P><PB N="67" REF="42">
Such again is the vain o&s;tentation of our per&s;onal behaviour, when we are in better company abroad in publike, or among&s;t &s;trangers, that we u&s;ually ca&s;t our thoughts ambitiou&s;ly behinde us, with a vain care and curio&s;ity of minde, to ob&s;erve whether our clothes, di&s;cour&s;e and deportment are likely to leave behinde us in the opinion of men a worthy e&s;timation; d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;i|ring, in the &s;tout pride of our hearts, &s;o to carry our &s;elves in outward credit towards others, as to be ob|&s;erved in the &s;ight of men; and according to the Poet, <HI>Mon&s;trari &amp; dicier hic e&s;t.</HI> I &s;ay, that it might be &s;aid of us, that we are &s;uch ones, of &s;uch note, <HI>&amp;c.</HI> And &s;uch al&s;o on the other &s;ide is our too &s;ullen retiredne&s;&s;e from convenient company, when <HI>Diogenes-like</HI> we &s;tubbornly &s;hrink in our &s;elves from an ordinary con|ver&s;ation with men, either out of a &s;hamefac't &s;trange|ne&s;&s;e and inurba<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ity of behaviour, or el&s;e out of a &s;elf will'd roughne&s;&s;e of minde, that we will not com|municate our &s;elves unto others. And here</P>
<LG>
<L>We may mo&s;t times ob&s;erve it by the by,</L>
<L>That Melancholy gives a &s;ecret touch</L>
<L>Of &s;urly, clo&s;e, and &s;tern moro&s;ity,</L>
<L>Which &s;peaking little, always thinketh much.</L>
</LG>
<P>Though Melancholy be full within of great thoughts, yet it &s;eldom unmasks it &s;elf, but upon humours; and then peradventure when we are in the vein of it, we as vainly fall again into extremes on the other &s;ide, lavi&s;h|ly &s;pending our &s;pirits in over much talking and eager|ne&s;&s;e of di&s;cour&s;e, thereby wearying out our &s;elves ma|ny times in vain; and not onely &s;o, but perhaps work|ing our own wo withal: For, <HI>Locutum e&s;&s;e aliquand<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> poe|<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ituit, tacui&s;&s;e nunqu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">: A fool,</HI> &s;aith <HI>Solomon,</HI> Prov. 29, <HI><GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ttereth all his minde; but a wi&s;e man keep<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">th it in till after|wards.</HI>
<PB N="68" REF="43">
A fool uttereth all his minde; and &s;uch is our folly to run out into vanity of words, &s;ometimes in one fa&s;hion, &s;ometimes in another; but &s;pecially mo&s;t of all, into vainly hyperbolical &s;peeches, boa&s;tingly aggra|vating the truth, or enviou&s;ly extenuating it, according as our humour and inclination is bent; whereby our prai&s;o or di&s;prai&s;e of any thing or per&s;on is altogether made factious after our fancie and liking, rather then any whit according to right under&s;tanding and impartial ve|rity: for notwith&s;tanding we do &s;till pretend to &s;peak nothing but what is ju&s;t and equal, following the onely rule of di&s;cerning rea&s;on and indifferency; yet we can|not but encline our words to the prejudicate &s;en&s;e of our own liking, making our arguments and proofs &s;er|vants rather to affection then reality. As for example: If we vent our pa&s;&s;ion in ripping up of other mens faults, we plead thus for the doing it, That <HI>we know not how to di&s;&s;emble, That we mu&s;t needs &s;peak the truth,</HI> &amp;c. co|louring that with the name of veracity, which is no|thing el&s;e but the rancour of ill will; taking our indi|gnation and &s;ini&s;ter de&s;ire, to be zeal, a zeal to truth, whenas it is nothing but a breach of Charity: for though we can thus unmercifully cen&s;ure others; though other mens motes are beams unto us, and we can fully di&s;cern their lea&s;t enormities; yet we do &s;ufficiently wink at and flatter our &s;elves in far wor&s;e actions; we can cut large thongs, as it is &s;aid, of other mens Lea|ther; enjoyning great duties, expecting great matters, and laying great burdens upon other mens &s;houlders, which we touch not our &s;elves with &s;o much as our lea&s;t finger: I &s;ay, the mean while, God he knows, not performing the lea&s;t part of our own duty: and therefore doth that &s;aying of Saint <HI>Paul</HI> after check our Con&s;ciences; <HI>Thou that teache&s;t others, teache&s;t thou not thy &s;elf?</HI> &amp;c. <HI>Behold, the wrath of man,</HI> &s;aith Saint <HI>James, worketh not the righteou&s;ne&s;&s;e of God.</HI> And &s;ure, mo&s;t times, we &s;in more again&s;t Charity by the wrathful cen&s;ure
<PB N="69" REF="43">
and reproof of other mens &s;ins, even more, I verily believe, then they do in committing tho&s;e &s;ins which we &s;o reprove, becau&s;e <HI>Love,</HI> &s;aith <HI>Solomon,</HI> Prov. 10. 12, <HI>covereth a multitude,</HI> a multitude <HI>of &s;ins:</HI> &s;urely not of our own &s;ins, 'tis not &s;o meant, but of other mens. And <HI>Charity,</HI> &s;aith Saint <HI>Paul, &s;uffereth long, is kinde, is not ea&s;ily provoked, beareth all things, believeth all things,</HI> &amp;c.</P>
<P>If we truely con&s;ider it, when we judge this or that mans pride; what is it el&s;e that doth it, but a greater pride in our &s;elves? when we condemn other mens malice and envie, it is nothing el&s;e peradventure but becau&s;e our own hearts are fuller of envie them&s;elves; nature it may be thinking thus to adorn her &s;elf with others &s;poils, and to deck up her credit with the good name &s;he takes away from her neighbour. Better, O how much better were it for us, in &s;tead thereof, to turn cri|ticks to our &s;elves and our own lives, then to be &s;o cen&s;oriou&s;ly bu&s;ie about others.</P>
<P>Better, I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>To 'bide at home, and &s;hew our utmo&s;t skill</L>
<L>In &s;etting right our own corrupted will.</L>
</LG>
<P>In judging others, that is all that we can get by it, The greater judgement to our &s;elves: but by judging our &s;elves, we may haply e&s;cape the judgement of God; <HI>For,</HI> &s;aith Saint <HI>Paul, if we would judge our&s;elves</HI> (that is, truely ran&s;ack our own &s;ouls for &s;in) <HI>we &s;hould not be judg|ed of the Lord.</HI></P>
<P>And as the ancharitable judging of other's &s;ins doth doubtle&s;&s;e encrea&s;e our own judgement; &s;o when we applaud, rejoyce in, and are well plea&s;ed at the falls and &s;ins of others; what do we likewi&s;e but encrea&s;e our fur|ther condemnation? This hugging of our &s;ouls in the be|holding of other mens vices, which many times we do, proveth us to have the &s;eed of that wicked one within us,
<PB N="70" REF="44">
who delighteth &s;till in having more company unto damnation. Indeed to have many fellows and com|panions in &s;inning, may perhaps rock our evil con&s;ci|ence into a &s;ecurer &s;leep for the time; but it cannot give u<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> the lea&s;t true re&s;t or &s;atisfaction of minde. That others &s;in as much as we, is no priviledge at all for our &s;ins: they &s;hall &s;tand upon their own bottoms, and we &s;hall be &s;ure our &s;elves to an&s;wer for our &s;elves; one's faults cannot plead for or excu&s;e anothers: eve|ry one &s;hall have enough to look to him&s;elf and his own ways. It is to be mark'd among&s;t the re&s;t, that the different temper of body and manner of life, as to live in &s;ome places with &s;ome people, in &s;ome Call|ings, and the like, is a &s;trong means to make &s;in in many of us to abound into a more gro&s;&s;e and frequent impie|ty then in other-&s;ome: for although nature in all men be corrupted with the &s;eeds of &s;in, with a readine&s;&s;e and propen&s;ion even unto the greate&s;t evils; yet the&s;e fir&s;t beginnings are much more rankly grown from the womb in &s;ome men then in other-&s;ome, which cau&s;eth them to undergo a greater difficulty in &s;ubdu|ing them&s;elves by grace, and to be more violently carried down the &s;tream, when once &s;in gets the upper hand. As al&s;o our manner of life may adde great ad|vantage unto temptation.</P>
<LG>
<L>In Sodom for to live a righteous Lot,</L>
<L>'Tis like a Painter that's without a &s;pot.</L>
<L>By touching Pitch, alas it is no news</L>
<L>To be defil'd, if that we cannot chu&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<P>He that is conver&s;ant where many occa&s;ions be offer|ed, &s;hall hardly put by often inconveniences.</P>
<P>But we proceed with the &s;ecret &s;inful motions of our unhappie life. When there is any thing of heedful
<PB N="71" REF="44">
concernment in our thoughts, which we do endeavour to effect, or have re&s;olved upon to have it done; if it chance any whit long to be delayed, and not fini&s;ht forthwith according to our hope, the greedy de&s;ire and expectation thereof is &s;uch a torture pre&s;ently to our over ha&s;tie &s;ouls, that in a while out of di&s;tru&s;tfulne&s;&s;e we either utterly de&s;pair of it, or through impatiency of minde, we &s;trive (if it be po&s;&s;ible) to bring it to pa&s;&s;e again&s;t might, or otherwi&s;e one way or other, are ready to procure &s;ome indirect means whereby our ea|ger intention may be fulfilld; headle&s;ly running on many times thus to multiply our &s;ins without any rea|&s;on, not con&s;idering at all, that if we had not tor|mented our &s;elves with &s;uch over eagerne&s;&s;e of expe|ctation, and &s;inn'd again&s;t God with this unlawful ha&s;ti|ne&s;&s;e of minde and de&s;pairing thoughts, doubtle&s;&s;e our bu&s;ine&s;&s;e would have never the wor&s;e, but rather the better have took its effect in due time: and this is that impatient ha&s;tine&s;&s;e of minde and di&s;tru&s;tful fear that maketh many of us to cur&s;e and &s;wear &s;o much in the pa&s;&s;ion of di&s;content; to go to Witches for recovering again the goods that we lo&s;e; or &s;o &s;oon as we be &s;ick to po&s;t to the Phy&s;itian as our onely hope; and the like. It was this impatient ha|&s;tine&s;&s;e of minde that made <HI>Saul</HI> offend, 1 Sam. 13. 8: whenas both he, and our &s;elves, did we but u&s;e the coun&s;el of <HI>David,</HI> P&s;al. 27. 9, to <HI>tarry the Lords lea|&s;ure, and be &s;trong;</HI> I &s;ay, his lea&s;ure with patience, and be &s;trong in faith, we might verily prevent many a &s;in, nay, perchance mo&s;t &s;ins; for were it not this im|patient ha&s;tine&s;&s;e of ours, what &s;in almo&s;t is there could prevail again&s;t us, had we but that true patience and &s;tayedne&s;&s;e of minde &s;oberly to wait and weary out the temptation, the devil might go away from us as he came.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="72" REF="45">
<L>The &s;torm mo&s;t fiercely for the time doth rage:</L>
<L>Stay but a little, and it will a&s;&s;wage.</L>
</LG>
<P>It is this too importunate ha&s;tine&s;&s;e that cau&s;eth di&s;con|tented murmur<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ngs again&s;t God, making us, when things go not to our mindes, and that we pro&s;per not according to our account and expectation, even making us, I &s;ay, half angry with the Almighty, as though he were a debter to fulfil our de&s;ires. It is this ha&s;tine&s;&s;e which draweth us many times into the mo&s;t dangerous im|pieties.</P>
<P>Sin in time brings the &s;oul into &s;uch a &s;en&s;le&s;&s;e dulne&s;&s;e and &s;tupidity, that as if we had <HI>made a Covenant with d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ath and</HI> a League with <HI>hell,</HI> we are little moved with any ter|rour thereof, and we quietly yeeld up our &s;elves, as if there were an inevitable nece&s;&s;ity for us to be thus wie|ked and ungodly: we know not what to &s;ay or to do in the ca&s;e; we are &s;o much plunged in this <HI>mire and clay, where there is no ground,</HI> no hope of coming out, that it is beyond all that we can think and endeavour, to do our &s;elves any good; and therefore we cannot conceive &s;in and this inward corruption of nature to be any other|wi&s;e in us then as a corruption in the body, which when once it hath gotten a long continued vent and running i&s;&s;ue in the leg, there is no &s;topping thereof without pre|&s;ent death to the party, unle&s;&s;e there be an i&s;&s;ue made for it in another place. And &s;o we being thus filled, as Saint <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaketh of the Heathen, <HI>Rom.</HI> 1, with nothing but &s;piritual corruption in the &s;oul&punc; <HI>unrighteou&s;ne&s;&s;e, fornica|tion, wickedne&s;&s;e, covetou&s;ne&s;&s;e, maticiou&s;ne&s;&s;e,</HI> &amp;c. we cannot imagine how the vent thereof can be &s;topt, but that it mu&s;t needs have pa&s;&s;age one way or other; and indeed &s;o for the mo&s;t part, when it is &s;topt of its ordinary cour&s;e, it findeth out a &s;ecret vent el&s;ewhere. And truely
<PB N="73" REF="45">
after this manner &s;ometimes we &s;eem to be reclaimed and reformed of our accu&s;tomed vices, whenas in very deed we do but turn out of one &s;in into another: for this is the devils policy, now and then to imitate Re|pentance, by altering and changing up and down our &s;ins, to the end they might not grow tedious unto us, to make us loath and abho<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> them utterly, or perchance to give our con&s;ciences &s;ome &s;atisfaction with the &s;hew of Repentance, that we may the more &s;ecurely conti|nue in &s;in. For the devil hath many &s;hifts to invent, wherewith to give us content and delight. He will provide all variety and plea&s;ure that is po&s;&s;ible, to in|dulge our appetite; as, being weary of this &s;in, that we may go to another; our affections being tired with am|bition, we might recreate our &s;elves with lu&s;t and luxu|rious idlene&s;&s;e; our &s;ouls being &s;topt of their cour&s;e in malice and covetou&s;ne&s;&s;e, we might take as it were a turn another while in Epicuri&s;m and indulging vanities: &s;ometimes perhaps a variety in the manner of our &s;ins for novelties &s;ake, may give us a little change of &s;ati&s;|faction; as &s;ometimes it may be plain dealing gives the minde be&s;t liking in our &s;ins; &s;ometimes equivocating and deluding excu&s;es; &s;ometimes the matter is be&s;t of all to be qualified with a crafty involving of others help|ing in the act: &s;ometimes again, a &s;ole and ab&s;olute &s;ecre&s;ie of the whole bu&s;ine&s;&s;e, is more grateful to our con&s;cience. Every way, and however it be effected, we feel our &s;elves in &s;in ju&s;t as in the condition of &s;ick men: he that is much &s;ick, is not in &s;o much ea&s;e as to lie always on one &s;ide, though his bed be never &s;o &s;oft: &s;o &s;in, like the &s;ick mans bed, hath not &s;o much plea&s;ure in it as to give us any long content: he turns from &s;ide to &s;ide to finde re&s;t, and findes none &s;o long as he is &s;ick: &s;o we unhappie &s;inners wallow to and fro in our &s;innes without re&s;t: <HI>we are un&s;table in all our ways.</HI></P>
<LG>
<PB N="74" REF="46">
<L>There's no delight, no re&s;t is to be found,</L>
<L>Whil&s;t &s;in in us &s;o &s;trongly doth abound.</L>
</LG>
<P>I &s;ay, we can finde no plea&s;ure, no full, &s;atisfactory, o<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> long content in plea&s;ure, as long as we thus turn out of &s;in into &s;in, out of one bad cour&s;e into another, unle&s;&s;e that we quite turn out of &s;in unto God. But wo is us, <HI>Hic labor, hoc opus e&s;t,</HI> here lies all the difficul|ty, this is the main matter of all; the flattering &s;ub|tilty thereof hath, as I &s;aid, for long ago, as <HI>Dalilah</HI> be|guiled <HI>Sam&s;on,</HI> &s;o wholly robb'd and beguil'd our &s;oul&punc; of all their &s;trength and courage to true R<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">pentance, that we were much too weak to break off from us tho&s;e fettering bonds and manacles of unrighteou&s;ne&s;&s;e which do &s;o &s;trongly tie us unto unhappine&s;&s;e; a mi|&s;ery certainly full of all mi&s;eries, to be &s;o far involv'd therein that we can &s;ee no probability to get out: and yet lo, this is not the utmo&s;t, it doth not re&s;t here; we mu&s;t yet <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">urther entertain a greater unhappine&s;&s;e; for now behold a far more grievous and wor&s;e thing for the pre&s;ent hereby happeneth unto us, Gods judge|ment, the u&s;ual con&s;equence of continuance in fin, prepares after &s;o long forbearance to lay &s;iege unto our con&s;ciences; and <HI>the me&s;&s;enger of Satan,</HI> like a trumpe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">er is &s;ent in to &s;ummon us beforehand: for behold, hi|deous and di&s;maying thoughts begin to &s;lip into our minde, exceedingly to terrifie and &s;trike thorow our un|happie &s;ouls, the &s;trangene&s;&s;e of which many times at the fir&s;t coming of it, doth &s;o ga&s;tly affright and &s;tartle us, that our hearts are ready to faint and &s;woon with the terrour thereof: and this, this, I &s;ay, for the pre|&s;ent out of our unadvi&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">dne&s;&s;e and ignorance of the right under&s;tanding hereof, commonly becomes a greater &s;nare to us to keep us off from Repentance,
<PB N="75" REF="46">
then all our former &s;ins, and di&s;tempers be&s;ides; for when perchance we endeavour to &s;ettle our thoughts upon Humiliation, and are ready to take upon us the examination of our wicked and &s;inful life, as lifting up our thoughts into this Meditation: <HI>Oh how the time pa&s;&s;eth away! the daily-con&s;uming torch of our life burneth out apace, and &s;hall we continue &s;till in this de&s;olate and deplored condition without due Repentance and reconciliation with God? how far are are we from that glorious comfort and mo&s;t hap|pie &s;tate we u&s;e to enjoy in the time of grace?</HI> &amp;c. Wher, I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>When that with &s;erious &s;ighs we in this &s;ort</L>
<L>Do our own &s;elves into our &s;elves retort.</L>
</LG>
<P>preparing our &s;elves for Repentance, and &s;triving to humble our &s;ouls before God, then forthwith do the&s;e hideous and di&s;maying thoughts, or the remembrance of them, &s;o utterly di&s;courage and di&s;hearten us, that we are fain to leave off again &s;o &s;oon as we have be|gun: For whenas our thoughts &s;hould be fill'd with humility and dejection for our &s;ins, then are they rea|dy to &s;warm with nothing but vile and mon&s;trous ima|ginations. Better therefore do we judge it, for the mo&s;t part, whil&s;t that we are newly acquainted here|with, to let all alone, then by that means, as we &s;uppo&s;e, to procure Gods greater wrath and indignation upon us. Be&s;ides, thus we are ready to conjecture with our &s;elves; <HI>What hope or likelihood is there for us to obtain the favour of that God, from whom we are &s;o dangerou&s;ly &s;eparated, and whom again we are with &s;uch impiety of minde ready to di&s;honour?</HI> And &s;o are we beaten off from our poor and weak endeavours.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="76" REF="47">
<L>Not daring to approach his glorious Name</L>
<L>With thoughts that &s;peak nothing but fear and &s;hame.</L>
</LG>
<P>Well, the&s;e hideous glances do perchance ever and anon &s;lip into the imagination, and are very terrible and tedious unto us. But many times it falls out for a while, until we either better under&s;tand our &s;elves herein, or that God &s;hew forth his power more &s;trongly in us: I &s;ay it falls out many times, that the earne&s;t employment of our minde in the fears, cares and de&s;ires of other things, doth not &s;uffer us &s;o &s;eriou&s;ly to tend for them, or el&s;e doth put them out of remembrance again; notwith&s;tan|ding ever and anon they do come into our heads to di&s;turb and terrifie us mo&s;t wonderfully. But &s;pecially 'tis to be noted, that if at any time we go about to read, or &s;et our &s;elves diligently upon the work of Repen|tance, then &s;ure they are abundantly pre&s;ent with us: and becau&s;e they are &s;o terrible that we cannot abide them, we mu&s;t therefore needs leave off what&s;oever we have took in hand; and this we may conceive to be a &s;pecial policie of the devil, to have them chiefly propo|&s;ed to our phancie at &s;uch times, to the end, if it could be &s;o, there might be no time for us to repent in: For now methinks at length, through a due &s;elf-con&s;ideration, and the&s;e manifold checking troubles and inconveniences, which &s;o di&s;turb us, that we cannot tell which way to turn for them; doubtle&s;&s;e, I &s;ay, we have great longing to be reconciled unto God, and we would very fain repent, putting our &s;trength really to it, did not now the&s;e Scar crowes &s;tand in the way to affright us: and now in this (though not other|wi&s;e) we can truely repent that we did not repent heretofore, that we had not <HI>drawn neer unto the Lord whil&s;t he might be found,</HI> &s;ince that in tho&s;e great wa|ter-floods,
<PB N="77" REF="47">
this day of trouble and temptation, we cannot come nigh unto him: for mo&s;t de&s;ervedly we that have continued &s;o long in our &s;ins for our own plea&s;ure, to content our &s;elves, mu&s;t yet con|tinue a while longer to content Gods ju&s;tice. As yet then for all this, though the <HI>Ax</HI> be as it were <HI>laid to the root of the tree,</HI> Gods judgement and venge|ance to our evil Con&s;ciences, yet we cannot leave off the deceitfulne&s;&s;e of our &s;ouls, our oppre&s;&s;ing po|licie, the vanity of our minde, the excu&s;ing our &s;ins, the &s;welling and &s;elf-conceited folly of our hearts, and the like.</P>
<P>It is to be ob&s;erved, that according to the method in this Book before premi&s;ed, mo&s;t of us men have &s;ome one part or &s;pace of our life (be it four or five yeers, or what&s;oever) wherein &s;in hath more full power over us, and perhaps doth thus prevail in us with an high hand and &s;etled cour&s;e, and this time above all the re&s;t is the time of &s;in, as being &s;o properly di&s;po&s;ed for it, that during the continuance thereof, we can never attain unto true Repentance: for though that we may &s;ometimes &s;uperficially fallow up our &s;ouls with the Sollow of Humiliation, yet do we not &s;o thorowly plow them up as to fit them for the due receiving of that good &s;eed which is able to fructifie into newne&s;&s;e of life. Sure this is not an ea&s;ie thing:</P>
<LG>
<L>A perfect &s;inner doth not change his hue,</L>
<L>So quickly turning his old life to new.</L>
</LG>
<P>Though we may peradventure many times outwardly &s;can over the duty of Repentance, yet do we not during this time &s;o perfectly repent, as thereby to get a full Relea&s;e from the&punc; guilt of &s;in, or &s;uch a comfortable
<PB N="78" REF="48">
and a di&s;charging acquittance to our Con&s;ciences, as we ought to have, and which maketh us chearful and free powerfully to re&s;olve and &s;et on towards amendment of life.</P>
<P>Well, to the matter. I &s;ay, What by one means or other, we are yet &s;till &s;cared off from the main hope and help of our &s;ouls, the comfort of Reconciliation; &s;o great is our &s;inful folly and unability unto good. But this, all this, is but for a ta&s;te of inward trouble: See what follows: the hand of the Almighty doth not leave us &s;o; if a man will <HI>not turn,</HI> &s;aith <HI>David,</HI> P&s;al 7, God <HI>will whet his &s;word:</HI> he hath <HI>bent his bowe, and made it ready:</HI> hitherto there is no turning with us, nothing is able to turn us unto a due &s;erious repenting, or &s;ufficiently to rouze us up out of the unhappie Lethar|gie of &s;in; and therefore &s;ure God is now whetting his &s;word and bending his bowe again&s;t us As <HI>Lazr<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"></HI> in his grave, &s;o we have been in our tre&s;pa&s;&s;es and &s;ins &s;o long dead, even &s;tark dead unto all goodne&s;&s;e, that we had need be call'd unto <HI>elat&acirc; voce,</HI> as it is in the Eleventh of Saint <HI>John, with a loud voice,</HI> if God mean that we &s;hall effectually hear him.</P>
<P>Dangerous di&s;ea&s;es de&s;erve de&s;perate cures. If no|thing el&s;e can thorowly awake us, the Judgement of a troubled minde and tormented Con&s;cience mu&s;t do it. But when once it comes to pa&s;&s;e that the Almighty &s;heweth forth his wonders in the deep, his mighty &s;trength after this manner in the deep thoughts of mans heart; O what a &s;harp fit and tedious bout mu&s;t we undergo? for, &s;aith <HI>Solomon, The &s;pirit of ma<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> may &s;u&s;tain his infirmity: but a wounded &s;pirit who can bear?</HI></P>
<LG>
<PB N="79" REF="48">
<L><HI>Not</HI> Job<HI>'s afflictions, nor yet all tho&s;e ten</HI></L>
<L><HI>Egyptian plagues can parallel agen</HI></L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>The mi&s;ery that that poor &s;oul is in,</L>
<L>Whom heav'n doth &s;trike with terrour for his &s;in.</L>
</LG>
<P>Any outward cro&s;&s;e or trouble is tolerable, and may be &s;u&s;tained: but the inner trouble of a di&s;tracted minde and wounded Con&s;cience, who can bear?</P>
<P>You may note, that though the minde and Con&s;cience be toucht with many &s;ecret terrours and perplexed difficulties, in the cour&s;e and pa&s;&s;age of this life, according to that of <HI>David</HI> concerning him&s;elf, <HI>Even from my youth up, thy terrours have I &s;uffered with a troubled minde.</HI></P>
<P>I &s;ay, There be in the &s;oul of man many tor|menting thoughts; as al&s;o &s;ins of ours, and &s;ay|ings of Scripture often too hard for us well to di|ge&s;t: but this en&s;uing Pa&s;&s;age of a di&s;tracted minde and troubled Con&s;cience is &s;eldom paral|lel'd.</P>
<P>For lo, I &s;hall herein &s;hew you a My&s;tery, even welnigh the very height and utmo&s;t pitch of Ter|rour and &s;ad Di&s;traction that the melancholy minde can undergo without falling quite into Fury and Madne&s;&s;e, which doth fitly follow this more then ordinary ill cour&s;e of life here pre&s;uppo&s;ed, and &s;o long a &s;leep in pre&s;umption.</P>
<P>For this is the right Method in the &s;tate of the &s;oul: before &s;uch great trouble of minde, there u|&s;ually precedes a deep &s;leep in Pre&s;umption, becau&s;e the minde and Con&s;cience can never be very much inwardly troubled, (it may &s;uffer &s;ome &s;mall di&s;tre&s;&s;e)
<PB N="80" REF="49">
I &s;ay, never be much troubled, as long as <HI>fear,</HI> the watch|man of the &s;oul, keeps his due centry. And therefore this is the true wi&s;edom of a careful Chri&s;tian, diligently to keep this watch about him, le&s;t he be overtaken, be|&s;otted and engaged in &s;in, and &s;o then <HI>the day of the Lord come upon him like a thief in the night:</HI> I &s;ay, <HI>the day of the Lord,</HI> the day of his Judgement, <HI>a day of gloomine&s;&s;e and thick darkne&s;&s;e;</HI> a day of trouble and di&s;traction of minde, even &s;uch a day (as is expre&s;t in the next Part) where|in the Lord thundreth from heaven with his mighty power again&s;t the &s;oul of man,</P>
</DIV2>
<DIV2 TYPE="part">
<PB N="81" REF="49">
<HEAD>Of the Soul troubled in Con&s;cience.</HEAD>
<P>_WEll, the troubles and terrours before &s;po|ken of in the precedent part, in reference to the&s;e that follow and are now at hand are but as S. <HI>Matthew</HI> &s;aies of tho&s;e troubles that &s;hall go before the day of Judgement, <HI>the beginning of &s;orrowes.</HI> I &s;ay, the begin|ning of &s;orrow, they are like the &s;cattering drops which fall before a &s;hower; and O now the &s;hower it &s;elf begins to fall apace, a terrible &s;hower, and mo&s;t violent &s;torm, &s;uch a one as <HI>David</HI> &s;peaks of in <HI>P&s;al.</HI> 11. <HI>ver&s;.</HI> 6. where he &s;aith, <HI>&V;pon the wicked be &s;hall raine &s;nares, fire and brim&s;tone, and an horrible tempe&s;t, this &s;hall be their portion to drinke.</HI></P>
<P>For now our minds and bodies being perhaps more properly made fit for that purpo&s;e; I &s;ay, the rather fitted thereunto; as either by occa&s;ion of the lei&s;ure and vacancy of the mind, or al&s;o by the like concurring occa&s;ion of &s;trong melancholly vapours in the body, or other di&s;ea&s;ed di&s;turbance: Though fin only be the procuring cau&s;e, yet the&s;e or &s;ome of the&s;e are u&s;ually the pre&s;ent occa&s;ions which mainly help it forward; we quickly fall into an exceeding dumpi&s;hne&s;&s;e of mind, and even in a &s;hort &s;pace our fancy is followed with &s;warmes of tormenting thoughts, in &s;o extraordinary a manner, that we cannot tell what to doe; they come &s;o thick one upon another, and are impious in &s;o high a degree, that the di&s;mall and helli&s;h terrour thereof doth quite dull and take off our &s;ences. There is, for the mo&s;t part, no one houre all day long, but that we are haunted
<PB N="82" REF="50">
with them, as with &s;o many hideous gho&s;ts, in&s;o|much that u&s;ually do what we can, nothing will put them from our mind, or give us the lea&s;t ea&s;e and re&s;pit from this mi&s;ery.</P>
<LG>
<L>Intentions &s;till, our mind gets no reliefe</L>
<L>At all, from this torm<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">nting inward griefe.</L>
</LG>
<P>Tho&s;e thoughts, they are &s;uch black thoughts, mo&s;t of them &s;o infinitely fearfull&punc; &s;o un&s;peakable heynous, that they do make us extreamly to &s;hake with feare, and put us many times in &s;uch a trembling, that we are as it were fainting with the deep agony and an|gui&s;h thereof, they do &s;o &s;ubtilly &s;hoot into our ima|gination, that for our lives we cannot with all our &s;trength and endeavour &s;hut them out, or &s;o much as mitigate the violence of them; they are even as the piercing lightning, which cannot be with&s;tood. For, lea&s;t your under&s;tanding &s;hould be mi&s;taken. it is to be noted, that tho&s;e thoughts not as yet &s;poken of. are more of a darting, then a reflecting nature. To go on, they are as &s;o many terrifying Haggards and helli&s;h gho&s;ts unto us, that do even make us &s;hrinke for feare, as often as we do but think upon them, or &s;o much as take the lea&s;t glimp&s;e thereof in|to our apprehen&s;ion; and then as &s;oon as we are thus never &s;o little afraid, they will &s;ure come upon us, and that the more fiercely too, fear giving any adver|&s;ary advantage, to have the greater power over us: The manner of being affrighted herewith, many times is as when &s;ome extraordinary thunderclap on the &s;udden, &s;trikes a man with &s;o violent a terrour, that his heart is even (as they &s;ay) out of his mouth therewith; the pa&s;&s;ion whereof is able to be in &s;uch an exce&s;&s;e, that it doth even &s;tun our &s;ences for the time, making us as quite &s;ick with the amazement of it.</P>
<LG>
<L>What &s;hall I &s;ay? <HI>No mortall tongue can <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">hew</HI></L>
<L><HI>Tho&s;e fearfull terrors which our mind doth know.</HI></L>
</LG>
<P><PB N="83" REF="50">
It is &s;aid indeed in the &s;ixth Chap. of <HI>Gene&s;is,</HI> that <HI>every imagination of the thoughts of mans heart are onely evill continually.</HI> But O the&s;e and the like thoughts, as I may &s;ay, even &s;ent from Hell into the &s;oul of man, are &s;o beyond mea&s;ure unrea&s;onably evill, that we &s;hall many times think to our &s;elves, think it, I &s;ay, to be a thing almo&s;t impo&s;&s;ible, that man, as a meer man, and being only in the mortall condition of hu|manity, &s;hould be capable of entertaining &s;uch in|tollerable things within him: As al&s;o &s;ometimes we &s;hall think thus, that if other men did but know what vile imaginations, what mon&s;trous indigni|ties there are in our heads, they would &s;ure be ready to kill us out of zeale to piety, and revenge to Gods glory, as not fit to live on earth, who are in truth full of nothing but Hell: Many times perhaps are our thoughts of &s;uch high and immediate impiety&punc; that we verily look for one fearfull judgement or other pre&s;ently to confound us, and do even quake and crouch down, as though &s;ome fierce thunderbolt of vengeance were already falling from Heaven upon us: The&s;e thoughts they are not all of them evill in the &s;ame degree, &s;ome it may be being far wor&s;e then &s;ome; as al&s;o, they are not all of the &s;ame nature, for the diverfity of every ones con&s;titution, and the diver&s;ity or &s;everall kinds of &s;ins, to which we are mo&s;t addicted, do perchance much varie the nature of them; yet mo&s;t of them in the &s;ame particular party (&s;pecially at the fir&s;t) do ever point to one kind of end and effect; in a while the much prevai|ling &s;trength of the&s;e thoughts hath &s;uch a terrifying power in us, that even but one of them is &s;ufficient to &s;trike an heart-breaking pa&s;&s;ion of &s;o great a trem|bling and di&s;temper into us, that we &s;hall not be wholly out of it again for a whole day after, being u&s;ually in the mean &s;pace revolving in our minds
<PB N="84" REF="51">
the heynou&s;ne&s;&s;e thereof or bu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ying our fancy with orher trifling conceipts of the like nature; &s;o that our mind is never no never free from &s;ome one co|gitation or other, which concerns this our trouble: At our fir&s;t entr<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> into this &s;ad ca&s;e, before we are ful|ly po&s;&s;e&s;t with the cour&s;e and quality thereof; we &s;hall be apt thus to con&s;ider and revolve within our &s;elves. O Lord, how &s;hall we do to recogitate and examine over againe in repentance the&s;e unhappy thoughts, when as the very remote&s;t glimp&s;e of them in our fancy, is &s;o too much terrible unto us; for we do feel our &s;elves &s;eldome lively and perfectly to repent us of our &s;ins, but that in very act of repen|tance, tho&s;e things which do mo&s;t go again&s;t our con|&s;cience do re-appear unto us afre&s;h, and that we do as it were really &s;ee the enormity of them: I &s;ay we &s;hall thus perhaps ho and be &s;olicitous how to re|pent, for though we may and do now repent, in the habit and intention of repentance, I mean in the reality and &s;en&s;e of it; yet peradventure we cannot in a right and duly performed act thereof, habitually by turning f<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">om our evill cour&s;e, but not actually, by putting in practice that lively action of the mind, which is ordinarily requi&s;ite and belonging there|unto. I &s;ay, for all that our hearts be as it were broken in pieces with the&s;e heavy troubles, yet we cannot enjoy &s;o feeling a remor&s;e in our &s;ouls, or &s;o kindly di&s;&s;olve our &s;elves into a &s;erious and right humiliation as we de&s;ire, and as wee ought to do; though as it &s;eemeth to our poor unhap|py &s;ouls.</P>
<LG>
<L>The Lord hath charg'd us with &s;o great a Cur&s;e,</L>
<L>That mortall fle&s;b cannot &s;u&s;taine a wor&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<P>Though I &s;a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> we are &s;o Divell-like, and helli&s;hly untoward in our &s;elves, and though we truly know and do well con&s;ider this our wofull condition, yet
<PB N="85" REF="51">
can we not perchance thorough this great di&s;temper of fancy; can we not, as I &s;ay, performe that acti|on of mind which fitly belongs thereunto, being held in &s;uch a &s;trong incongruity unto the naturall u&s;e of all inward duties that there yet appeareth in us, me thinks, no due readine&s;&s;e of heart to a bleeding and truly con&s;cientious &s;orrow.</P>
<P>Now therefore in this mo&s;t evill ca&s;e, lea&s;t that we &s;hould go down quick into Hell, and be &s;wal|lowed up with this &s;udden de&s;truction, we do migh|tily labour to &s;et out all the power and &s;trength that we have, in &s;triving to deject and bring down our outward &s;ouls to a duer and more applyable &s;orrow for our &s;ins: For you mu&s;t under&s;tand that the &s;trong|ne&s;&s;e and violence hereof, a pretty while, upon its fir&s;t comming, doth amaze and &s;o much take up our thoughts with di&s;turbed terrour and admiration, that we cannot pre&s;ently apply our &s;elves with good, and exactly go over each particular of repentance to the full. Now then, as much as it is po&s;&s;ible, I &s;ay, to the utmo&s;t, do we &s;et our &s;elves this way, to turn a new leafe, to change the whole frame and cour&s;e of our inner man: For lo&punc; O Lord, there is no re&s;t unto our &s;ouls, by rea&s;on of this thy wrath, neither is there yet any ea&s;e at all to our con&s;ciences, by rea|&s;on of our &s;ins. Fir&s;t then to begin, The former po|licy, delight and habit of our mind, which we did heretofore &s;eriou&s;ly embrace, applaud and approve, is now become hatefull and odious unto us, we can|not abide &s;o much as the very thought thereof; and lo, the whole aime of our intention and purpo&s;e is only &s;et to a particular and punctuall re-counting of all our &s;ins pa&s;t, although the heynou&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e&s;&s;e and mul|titude of them, for want of due repentance &s;o long, is perchance grown to that pa&s;&s;e, that it is mo&s;t irk|&s;om to us, our hearts even faint thereat, and are very
<PB N="86" REF="52">
loath, even as loath to meddle thoroughly with this &s;crutiny, and to &s;earch it to the purpo&s;e, as the grle|ved party is loath to open the play&s;ter from his tender &s;oare, the clinging whereof he knows will tear away the very skin from the fle&s;h.</P>
<LG>
<L>So hard a thing it is for to divor&s;e</L>
<L>Sin, that is ro<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ted with a con&s;tant cour&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<P>So difficult is the due ordering, purging and exa|mining of a con&s;cience that is much overgrown with &s;in; we do now, as I &s;ay, &s;et our &s;elves to a par|ticular re-capitulation of all our &s;ins that &s;o we may fully trie out, and remove the cau&s;e of this our mi&s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">|ry, and therefore, as it were, &s;topping our ears and apprehen&s;ion, as much as po&s;&s;ible, from the noi&s;e and di&s;turbance of all other things; we do altogether dive our thoughts into a mo&s;t deep and di&s;tinct con&s;ide|ration and remembrance of all our former iniquities, wherupon there may, and doubtle&s;&s;e will, at one time or other, occurre unto our memory all, even all, I &s;ay, and almo&s;t every one of the greate&s;t &s;ins of our whole life, with their particular circum&s;tances, and manner of committing. Thus here</P>
<LG>
<L>Deep Melancholly, without noi&s;e pre&s;ents</L>
<L>Of each our &s;ins the &s;ad and true contents;</L>
<L>And then &s;he &s;its with that accu&s;ing &s;croll.</L>
<L>To pa&s;se her judgement on the guilty &s;oul.</L>
</LG>
<P>Judging, deeming, and concluding, &s;omtimes one to be the greate&s;t of the &s;ins, &s;omtimes another; &s;ome|times this to be the chiefe&s;t cau&s;e of our mi&s;ery, &s;ome|times that; &s;omtimes neither this nor that in particu|lar, but in generall, the &s;infull cour&s;es of our whole time; but all this while, ever now and then, &s;hall we be thinking with our &s;elves, &s;ure our ca&s;e is &s;o dan|gerous, that never any &s;ouls were in the like &s;ad con|dition; &s;ure our ca&s;e is &s;o incurably bad, we cannot conceive how it is po&s;&s;ible for us to come into Gods favour any more.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="87" REF="52">
<L>Our wound of Con&s;cience is &s;e deep, 'tis &s;ure,</L>
<L>So deep, me thinks, that it is pa&s;t all cure.</L>
</LG>
<P>Thus we hang in &s;u&s;pen&s;e betwixt hope and feare, lea&s;t that it be not po&s;&s;ible for us to be &s;aved, and then &s;nall we be very earne&s;t and diligent to &s;earch out af|ter &s;uch books (if we can read) which handle mat|ter of con&s;cience, and to peru&s;e them, as perchance Ma&s;ter <HI>Greenbam,</HI> Ma&s;ter <HI>Perkins,</HI> Ma&s;ter <HI>Bolton,</HI> and the like, to &s;ee whether we can find any likelihood that ever any have been in the like wretched &s;tate be|fore us, or affected with &s;uch trouble and di&s;traction in the &s;ame nature; and when perchance we do finde but little or nothing, whereby to conjecture that others formerly have been in &s;uch a ca&s;e; then veri|ly, me thinks, there is no hopes for us, no body was ever in &s;uch a de&s;perate danger, and therfore we mu&s;t needs be damned: But if peradventure we read or hear of any that have been &s;omwhat neer alike affe|cted as we are, who&s;e inward trouble doth re&s;emble the manner and fa&s;hion of ours, it doth revive us with a little comfort and &s;atisfaction: That only doth give us mo&s;t ea&s;e of any thing: That, and no|thing but that, doth afford &s;ome refre&s;hing to our weary and di&s;tre&s;&s;ed &s;ouls: Well, having, as I &s;ay before, brought up our &s;ins out of the abi&s;&s;e of long oblivion; and as <HI>Enders</HI> Witch did <HI>Samuels</HI> per&s;on or per&s;onated Gho&s;t: So having rai&s;ed up the true re|pre&s;entation of the&s;e ugly gho&s;ts, to our &s;ad remem|brance, we labour by grieving and &s;ighing; for per|haps we can hardly weep at fir&s;t, though we doe much force our &s;elves to it. I &s;ay, by &s;ighing, by fa&s;t|ing, and prayer, to bring our mi&s;-happen and unto|wardly di&s;tempered &s;ouls, to apply and conforme to &s;ome lively penance and &s;en&s;ible remor&s;e for our wretchedne&s;&s;e; we do now &s;uffer no difficulty to withdraw us from this nece&s;&s;ary work of dejection,
<PB N="88" REF="53">
but do keep our &s;elves at Schoole to it by force, for though we do grieve and &s;orrow not a little for our &s;ins, yet &s;till being in this ca&s;e as we are, it &s;eemeth to us not enough, it pierceth not to the depth of our offences, we mu&s;t yet do penance in further humi|liation; this then compul&s;ive and violent urging our &s;elves to &s;orrow for &s;in, together with the troubled thoughts of our mind and con&s;cience, in a while breeds in us perchance a con&s;tant cu&s;tome and habit of &s;ighing, &s;o that we &s;hall often, ever and anon, in|terrupt our breath with &s;ighs; when we are altoge|ther &s;o untoward and out of all order in our minds, that we can do nothing el&s;e, nor pray, nor read, nor con&s;ider, nor meditate as we &s;hould; then &s;hall we force our &s;elves to &s;igh; this we can do, and this perchance is all that we can do; and this, with the continued u&s;e thereof, doth at length &s;o &s;pend our &s;pirits, and dry up the naturall moy&s;ture of our bo|dies, that it maketh our countenances, for the mo&s;t part, look with a very pale and &s;orrowfull dejection, according to what <HI>Salomon</HI> &s;aith, <HI>a merry heart maketh a theerfull countenance,</HI> &s;o our &s;orry heart maketh us a &s;ad countenance, our beauty is quite gone, for very trouble, and worne away becau&s;e of all our iniqui|ties; and though for all we are thus unrea&s;onably tortured with the&s;e clo&s;e fretting troubles, and &s;uch continuall angui&s;h of mind, yet a good while upon the fir&s;t beginning of our trouble, it is the nature of us all, to &s;trive how&s;oever to keep it as much as may be, very &s;ecret and private unto our &s;elves, for that we are a&s;hamed, and loath that any &s;hould be acquaint|ed with what an unhappy ca&s;e we are in; but we &s;hall u&s;ually with the grief thereof, go about &s;o &s;oli|citarily, &s;o moopi&s;h, and look &s;o ill, and perchance &s;tarvingl<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> too, as if we were drunken or di&s;tracted, that our friends cannot but ob&s;erve the unwonted &s;tate and behaviour of us.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="89" REF="53">
<L>Each one may read the &s;tory of our ca&s;e.</L>
<L>In the &s;ad tokens of a &s;ilent face.</L>
</LG>
<P>Such earne&s;t trouble and intention of <HI>Hannab's</HI> mind, made old <HI>Ely</HI> take notice of her, as if &s;he had been drunken; who an&s;wereth, <HI>No, my Lord, I am a woman of a &s;orrowfull &s;pirit;</HI> And though perchance for a while we &s;hall be loath to give &s;uch an an&s;wer, and tell the truth to our friends, or others, who are ready to demand what the matter is with us? why we look, or &s;igh &s;o? what doth a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">le us? and the like; yet in time this grief is &s;o intolerable, that it mu&s;t needs have its vent, for <HI>&s;trangulat inclu&s;us dolor,</HI> any grief by its keeping clo&s;e, doth rage the wor&s;e: Gods heavy hand is &s;o &s;trong upon us, there is no conceal|ing of it long; the weary and re&s;tle&s;&s;e condition we are in, makes us in the end not to care who knows it, or to whom it be told, &s;o that we might but find any help or ea&s;e thereof; for perhaps we are &s;o exceeding|ly tired out with this trouble, that there is not &s;o much as the lea&s;t re&s;t or intermi&s;&s;ion at all unto our minds, neither day nor night, whil&s;t we awake we think out, whil&s;t we &s;leep we dream out, and we are interrupted with tumblings and to&s;&s;ings even all the night long; the mind never cea&s;eth from its trou|ble; when we are in company, let there be what bu|&s;ine&s;&s;e or di&s;cour&s;e &s;oever in hand, we are amo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">o&s;t them, as tho&s;e that are quite &s;tunned and amazed in our &s;ences, no otherwi&s;e affected then if we did nei|ther &s;ee nor hear them, our mind being alwaies wor|king and mu&s;ing upon its inward grief; and when we are private by our &s;elves, either what through the agony of evill and tormenting thoughts. and what with plodding on the heynou&s;ne&s;&s;e of our &s;ins and generall cour&s;e of our life, or by being terrified and di&s;mayed with certain difficult Texts and pa&s;&s;ages of Scripture, our mind and con&s;cience is in a con&s;tant agitation, at no re&s;t.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="90" REF="54">
<L>Lo there's a fin, that to the heart doth wound;</L>
<L>And here's a thought, that &s;trikes us to the ground</L>
<L>With &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters">ouning fear; And then a Text again</L>
<L>Buries that &s;oul, which tho&s;e before bad &s;luin.</L>
</LG>
<P>I &s;ay, when we are in private, and &s;o forth, for our de&s;olate and &s;or&s;aken &s;oul delighteth, as <HI>David</HI> did in the 102. <HI>P&s;alm,</HI> to &s;it alone by her &s;elf like an Owl that is in the de&s;ert, or like a Sparrow upon the hou&s;e top; thus being alone toyled in mi&s;ery, and &s;narld in perplexity, that we cannot tell what to do, we &s;hall kneel down in our chamber, or el&s;where, and by ur|ging our &s;elves to tears, in a while gu&s;h out a bun|dantly in our prayers, for though it be difficult for a full grown and middle age to di&s;&s;olve their grief into tears, yet in &s;uch ca&s;es as this it is u&s;uall, and then mo&s;t of us, when once we do thus bring our &s;elves into an u&s;e and cu&s;tome of weeping, we do &s;eldome pray at any time without tears, de&s;iring to weep often: and often in private, when we cannot pray as we would, for how many and how many times is it, that we do pray, God knows, with poor reli&s;h and devo|tion of mind, forcing our &s;elves to pray when we cannot pray, repeating the words, when we are in &s;uch a ca&s;e, and &s;o out of order in our &s;elves, that we have no heart or affection of Prayer? I &s;ay, no heart for <HI>ob&s;erne hinc illae lachrimae,</HI> it is the deadne&s;&s;e and want of a heart, that is our greate&s;t unhappine&s;&s;e in all our di&s;tre&s;&s;es, and therefore good <HI>David</HI> &s;o earne&s;t|ly cries out for an heart, <HI>Create in me a clean h<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t O God, O turne my &s;tony heart into an heart ef fle&s;h, &amp;c.</HI> To go on, There is mo&s;t times &s;uck an untowardline&s;&s;e in our hearts and affections unto prayer, that our di&s;|tempered thoughts by meanes thereof, are ready to turn every thing to a quite contrary &s;en&s;e, to a vaine, perchance, or ill conceipt, &s;o that when we &s;hould be mo&s;t reverently &s;erious in our devotion, then do the
<PB N="91" REF="54">
twharting glonces of our Phan&s;ie make as it were a foolery of it; and this will make us exceedingly to &s;igh, and cry for di&s;content, that we &s;hould be &s;o vaine, untoward, and out of all order; thinking, Lord, what &s;hall we doe, we cannot help it, though we be thus never &s;o untoward we cannot tell how to avoid it; and the&s;e words perchance, we cannot tell what to doe; Lord, we cannot tell what to doe in our grea|te&s;t plunges of di&s;tre&s;&s;e will be an u&s;uall expre&s;&s;ion with us.</P>
<LG>
<L>Lord, heare our groanes, we wot not what to &s;ay,</L>
<L>We pray, and yet alas we cannot pray.</L>
</LG>
<P>Of our &s;elves we are not able &s;ufficiently to think or comprehend in how bad a condition we are, thou only that truly knowe&s;t our mi&s;ery be mercifull unto us according to thy great mercy.</P>
<P>When we are &s;olitary and melancholy, private mu&s;ing upon our &s;elves and our mi&s;erable condition, there doe often &s;uch quames of terrour come over our minds and con&s;ciences, with &s;uch fainty fits of de&s;paire, that we are even as heart fick for the time with them; the cogitation of divers things reflecting upon our con&s;ciences maketh our drooping &s;pirits many a time even ready to for&s;ake the body, and give it its la&s;t farewell; &s;ometimes that Text of the <HI>He|brewes,</HI> which &s;aith, that <HI>tho&s;e who after they have ta&s;ted of the heavenly gift, and the power of the world to come, if they fall away it is impo&s;sible to renew them to repentance.</HI> This word <HI>impo&s;sible</HI> is a hard &s;aying, and doth wonderfully di&s;may us. Sometimes that unpardona|ble Sinne again&s;t the Holy Gho&s;t, which &s;hall never be forgiven, neither in this world nor in the world to come, doth &s;trike us even as dead without hope of recovery; for let that &s;inne be what it will be, either this or that, as perhaps we have read and learnt out divers opinions of it what it is; &s;ure we thinke
<PB N="92" REF="55">
the greathe&s;&s;e and heynou&s;ne&s;&s;e of our &s;innes mu&s;t needs without que&s;tion comprehend it; nay, if it be a &s;in of &s;uch and &s;uch a nature as &s;ome are of the opinion it is, there is not the lea&s;t doubt to be made but that we have evidently and often committed it. Sometimes that place of doing de&s;pight to the &s;pirit of grace doth &s;peak hard unto our con&s;ciences, and &s;omtimes that where it is &s;aid of <HI>E&s;au</HI> that he found no place for repentance, though he &s;ought it with tears. Sometimes the darting thoughts which doe &s;o vehe|mently terrifie and di&s;temper our minds, maketh us tremble to think on that place in the <HI>Apocalyps,</HI> where the damned ou<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> of their rebellious nature are &s;aid to cur&s;e and bla&s;pheme, &amp;c Sometimes &s;hall we think on <HI>Caines</HI> &s;inne, that it was no other then tho&s;e &s;innes were our &s;elves have committed, even perchance in the fame kind of malitious and murdering thoughts again&s;t our Neighbours; be&s;ides &s;o many and &s;o great &s;innes of other natures, for the which we are more worthy to be damned then he. Sometimes the grievous puni&s;hment of the murmuring <HI>I&s;rae|lites,</HI> who were angry with God out of impatience, doth pa&s;&s;e &s;entence upon us of the like Judgement and Condemnation. Sometimes againe, the appli|cation of <HI>Sauls</HI> ca&s;e will di&s;quiet us, the applica|tion of the hou&s;e built upon the &s;and, the applica|tion of him who&s;e la&s;t e&s;tate was wor&s;e then the fir&s;t, who being delivered from one Devill, there entred &s;even wor&s;er ones afterwards into him. Sometimes we &s;tick with great feare on Prede&s;ti|nation, being not a little touched with the utter im|probability of our being fore-ordained unto Salva|tion, who are altogether &s;o wicked and untoward, that God may as well, and with as good rea&s;on, to our judgement, &s;ave the Devill him&s;elfe as we; what&s;oever we heare &s;poken either in Scripture: or
<PB N="93" REF="55">
el&s;e how to the Condemnation of the wicked, doth as ju&s;tlv and fitly me thinkes come to our Con&s;cien|ces as if it had been framed on purpo&s;e for us: as al&s;o, what&s;oever is &s;aid to the commendation of the righteous, doth &s;ound againe even as punctually to our particular &s;hame, and confa&s;ion of face. The &s;aying of St. <HI>Peter</HI> to <HI>Simon</HI> the Sorcerer, doth mo&s;t rightly me thinkes fit us being thus truly <HI>in the gall of bitterne&s;&s;e, and in the bonds of iniquity;</HI> &s;o hampered and &s;nared in our &s;ins and terrour of Con&s;cience, that by no meanes can we get out of the&s;e feares and di|&s;tractions.</P>
<LG>
<L>What ere we doe, doubts doe thereof ari&s;e,</L>
<L>What now we like, anon we doe de&s;pi&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<P>As for example; If we doe give liberally to the poore, intending to take <HI>Daniels</HI> coun&s;ell in his fourth Chapter, that is, <HI>To breake off our iniquities by &s;hewing mercy,</HI> and &s;o forth; then &s;ure it comes into our mind that our actions are but Phari&s;aicall; or that we do<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> it without charity, without which, <HI>though we &s;hould give away all our goods,</HI> it will as St. <HI>Paul</HI> &s;aith, <HI>profit us nothing;</HI> if we doe not give liberally when as our ability can doe it, then are we ju&s;t as churli&s;h <HI>Naball,</HI> or as wicked <HI>Dives.</HI> Againe, if we doe let in the con&s;ideration of our &s;ins and mi&s;erable e&s;tate, &s;o nearely and deeply into our apprehen&s;ion that we cannot endure it, then &s;ure we are like <HI>Caine,</HI> ready to cry out, <HI>that our rai&s;ery is greater then that we are able to beare:</HI> If on the other &s;ide, we endeavour to forget it, and put it from our minde, then doe we &s;eeme like <HI>Saul,</HI> to drive away the evill &s;pirit with <HI>Davids</HI> Mu&s;ick: If we doe keepe on our going to Church, and the like outward duties when as we &s;eele no good motions within us corre&s;pondent thereunto, but rather all untowardne&s;&s;e, then we are as Hypocrites, that make people to be mi&s;taken in
<PB N="94" REF="56">
us, in accounting and deeming us to be better the<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> we be, to be &s;omething when as we are nothing: If we doe wholly omit and neglect tho&s;e duties, as not to goe to Church, and the like; then are we prophane Athei&s;ts, and not fit to live among&s;t Chri&s;tians; &s;uch is the uncon&s;tant weakne&s;&s;e and unquietne&s;&s;e of our &s;oules, that thus as <HI>Iob,</HI> in the &s;eventh Chapter, the fourth ver&s;e, <HI>When we lye downe we &s;ay, when &s;hall we ari&s;e, and the night be gone; and we are full of to&s;|&s;ings to and fro untill the dawning of the day; and</HI> with <HI>David,</HI> in the 38. P&s;alm, we may mo&s;t truly &s;ay, that <HI>there is no &s;oundne&s;&s;e in our fle&s;h by rea&s;on of thy wrath, neither is there any re&s;t unto our bones by rea&s;on of our &s;in, for our iniquities are gone over our beads, and are a &s;ore bur|then, too beavy for us to bear:</HI> a heavy burthen, too heavy as well for our enfeebled bodies as di&s;tempered &s;ouls.</P>
<LG>
<L>The Soul and Body like two Turtle Doves</L>
<L>Doe both in one affe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">tion &s;yrapathize,</L>
<L>What moves the one the other quickly moves,</L>
<L>Each in the others love both lives and dyes.</L>
</LG>
<P>As the Soule, &s;o I &s;ay the body &s;u&s;taineth an heavy portion of this &s;pirituall mi&s;ery, for we doe here with in time u&s;ually grow &s;o weak, even truly, as they &s;ay, &s;o weak as water, being what with griefe and ab&s;ti|nence from ordinary food wa&s;ted and pined away to nothing but skin and bone; neither have our bones al&s;o any re&s;t in them, for they are ready to ake as we but lye in our Beds, and are exceedingly dryed up like a Pot&s;heard; &s;uch is the feeble wearine&s;&s;e and laxation of our limbs, that kneeling any whit long at Prayer, when we ri&s;e we &s;hall be ready to f<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ll back|wards, &s;o that as <HI>David</HI> in the 22. <HI>P&s;alme,</HI> ju&s;t &s;o we are <HI>even powred out like water, and all our bones are out of joyne;</HI> if we &s;it a while more then ordinary, &s;uch a benummed &s;tiffene&s;&s;e and deadne&s;&s;e doth &s;eize upon us, that we &s;hall hardly perhaps be able without help
<PB N="95" REF="56">
to &s;tand upright. Againe, thus are we grown old. I &s;ay, old with griefe, and are become as it is &s;aid, <HI>Like a dead man that is forgotten.</HI> The continuall &s;ighing and angui&s;h of minde &s;eemes to pre&s;&s;e and oppre&s;&s;e our flomackes, as if &s;ome heavy weight did lye hard up|on it; thy hand O Lord pre&s;&s;eth us &s;o &s;ore, that it is unea&s;ie for us to fetch our breath; and lo, it may be we are wholly for many daies together as in a con&s;tant feavour of di&s;temper. I have known the water of &s;uch a di&s;tre&s;&s;ed &s;oul, only through this intollerable trouble of mind and Con&s;cience, to look &s;o ill that a wi&s;e and well experienced Pyh&s;itian hath given his opinion of it, that he never &s;aw &s;o bad and di&s;turbed an e&s;tate in all his life before. O the &s;ad ca&s;e! O the &s;orry and mi&s;erable condition of man, that is thus wounded with the &s;ting of con&s;cience for his &s;in! Behold how <HI>David</HI> complaines and laments in his 39. P&s;alm, <HI>O take away thy plague from me, for I am even can&s;umed by meanes of thy heavy band: When thou with rebuke do&s;t cha&s;ten man for &s;inne, thou make&s;t his beauty to con&s;ume away, like as it were a moath fretting a garment, every man therefore is but vanity.</HI> O man, unhappy man, who can &s;ufficiently bemoane thee? What heart is there can chu&s;e but &s;mart to &s;ee this thy mi&s;ery, and here to &s;hew the grie&s;e that I now conceive?</P>
<LG>
<L>Ob that my tongue could &s;peake forth teares of blood,</L>
<L>And eyes run down with waters like a floud.</L>
</LG>
<P>But to go on, for we may not &s;tay here; I &s;ay, to go on with the Story of our darting and affrighting thoughts, when any grievous and terrour-&s;triking fla&s;h doth dart into our minds, we are pre&s;ently apt thereupon to ponder and examine with our &s;elves, whether it be wor&s;e and of greater impiety, then tho&s;e that we have formerly had, and for the mo&s;t part, ever the la&s;t doth &s;eem to be the wor&s;t; &s;om|times it may be we may thus think with our &s;elves,
<PB N="56" REF="57">
why? what be they but bare thoughts? they be not wi&s;hes, de&s;ires, or reall actions of the mind; And then perchance the next time the&s;e thoughts do come unto us in manner of wi&s;hes, which for the pre&s;ent, through the &s;udden pa&s;&s;ion of feare, doth confound us with &s;uch an amazement, that we cannot at all tell what to think or do, we are &s;o quite out of heart with tho&s;e and our other di&s;mayments, for any hope of &s;alvation, that me thinks it is but a folly to per|&s;wade our &s;elves of comfort: Well, when the thoad<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> of this overwhelming tempe&s;t is &s;omwhat allayed and pa&s;t over; we &s;hall perhaps begin to con&s;ider again (being loath to be drowned) that grant they be wi&s;hes, or be they what they will be, never &s;o bad, yet we cannot help it, it is not in our power to di&s;|po&s;e of our own thoughts though they do come thus unhappily unto us; we de&s;ire them not, we had rather be rid of them; and then, vvhen vve have &s;o far pret|ty vvell re&s;olved our &s;elves for the time, rather then our melancholly fancy &s;hall be at any re&s;t or inter|mi&s;&s;ion from tormenting doubts and terrors, our half bewitcht imagination; our imagination, I may vvell &s;ay, as half bewitcht, vvill al&s;o &s;end for them, and bring them into mind, and then there is not the lea&s;t &s;hevv of hope any more to be caught hold by, then vve are quite &s;trucken down into Hell, vvith an utter confu&s;ion of de&s;paire; vve have hi|therto &s;trived again&s;t might, and all in vain too but deceive our &s;elves with hope; without que&s;tion &s;uch is our per&s;wa&s;ion and conceit) we mu&s;t needs be damned if ever any were damned; we are now &s;hut under Hatches, pa&s;t hope of recovery utterly for&s;a|ken and ca&s;t off from Grace; and &s;ure we now count it an advantage, and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">he onely height of our hope, if we might but be in a le&s;&s;er degree of Con|demnation, we doe take it as a benefit to us, not to
<PB N="97" REF="57">
be placed in the extreame&s;t condition of Hell; this, this is but a poore hope, a cold comfort God knows, and yet even this &s;o poore a hope can we hardly grant our &s;elves. O now &s;hall we think how happy is that &s;oule, that is but in probability of &s;alvation; Oh, it is not preferment, credit, rich apparell, or outward plea&s;ures, the common joyes and felicities of this world, that &s;tand high in our e&s;teem, we can now value the&s;e earthly things truly as they are, even as nothing; we envy not the happine&s;&s;e of tho&s;e that have them, nor are we di&s;content to be without them&punc; give us, O Lord give us this one thing, The comfort of thy grace again, The hope of &s;alvation, and we looke for no more; hither, hither are our de&s;ires, our cares, our thoughts only bent, here is the only trea&s;ure we aime at.</P>
<LG>
<L>There's no content without it to be had,</L>
<L>There's nothing with it that can make us &s;ad.</L>
</LG>
<P>Two things are here well to be ob&s;erved by the way; Fir&s;t, that the meerly rea&s;oning and reflect|ing thoughts of Con&s;cience doe never cau&s;e &s;uch &s;harp fits of di&s;paire in the &s;oule of man, as tho&s;e which are al&s;o partly darting and affrighting: the &s;econd is, That di&s;paire in the under&s;tanding is no|thing &s;o great an impiety again&s;t God as is di&s;paire in the Will, with an impatient re&s;olution, a di&s;pai|ring motion or opinion, as a de&s;perate &s;in.</P>
<P>To return again to the di&s;con&s;olate amazement of our &s;ouls, labouring in di&s;paire; this poore hope as I &s;ay of being in a le&s;&s;er degree of Condemnation we cannot grant unto our &s;elves, for we &s;hall rea&s;on chiefly thus; If God be mo&s;t ju&s;t as he mu&s;t needs be, he cannot but di&s;tribute equall right and Ju&s;tice unto all men, and &s;o he may not &s;pare any one per|&s;on more then other, for any favour or re&s;pect what|&s;oever, but only for their good behaviour, and as
<PB N="98" REF="58">
they have better husbanded their time and his gifts in them, for <HI>will the righteous God of all the world judge partially?</HI> No verily, he is truth it &s;elfe, <HI>farre be it from the Lord,</HI> as it is in the 34. of <HI>Iob,</HI> and the 10: ver&s;e, <HI>that he &s;hou<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">d doe wickedne&s;&s;e, and from the Al|mighty that he &s;hould commit iniqutty, for the worke of a man &s;hall he render unto him, and cau&s;e every man to finde according to his wayes;</HI> and though there be mercy to be found in Chri&s;t for the greate&s;t &s;inners, yet are we notwith&s;tanding me thinks to make account that God certainly requires our good behaviour in amendment of life, according to that of Saint <HI>Paul,</HI> in the &s;econd to the <HI>Corinthians,</HI> the 5. Chapter, <HI>If any man be in Chri&s;t he is a new creature.</HI> As the Father is Truth, &s;o is the Son, and if we meane to be the bet|ter for him, and come thorough him as the way into Heaven, we mu&s;t follow him as he is the way, and the truth, in newne&s;&s;e of life; and therefore how can we, who be thus in the greate&s;t &s;tate of &s;inne, as we conceive our &s;elves to be both in the former pa&s;&s;age of our life, as al&s;o e&s;pecially now for the&s;e pre&s;ent thoughts, and tormenting impieties of minde, but needs expect and look for the greate&s;t Condemnation of all men: &s;o true is that Heathen, but wi&s;e &s;peech, <HI>Se judice nemo nocens ab&s;olvitur.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>There is no advocate can plead our cau&s;e,</L>
<L>When Con&s;cience once doth pro&s;ecute the Lawes.</L>
</LG>
<P>For nay, yet further, me thinkes we doe &s;o much hate what we are, and applaud Truth and Ju&s;tice, that unle&s;&s;e we might be free from &s;inne, from this wretched and helli&s;h condition of minde, though God him&s;elfe &s;hould now call us into Heaven, we would &s;urely &s;tand without; we could not, nor would not come in, unle&s;&s;e he would &s;hew the like mercy upon all; unle&s;&s;e all other men were bid|d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">n come in too, whom we are of opinion to be farre more fit for it then our &s;elves.</P>
<P><PB N="99" REF="58">
Well, this thought and conceit as it hath &s;ome rea&s;on in it, in that we cannot deject our &s;elves as low as our &s;ins de&s;erve; we knovv &s;o much of our &s;elves that vve cannot but think all others better then our &s;elves, vvho are &s;o exceedingly bad in our &s;elves. I &s;ay againe, as it hath rea&s;on in it, duely con&s;idering the unhappy &s;tate of &s;in; and this tran&s;cendent un|happine&s;&s;e of the minde, vvhich is novv &s;o full of the Hell of tormenting di&s;tempers and di&s;paire, that we cannot thinke our &s;elves po&s;&s;ibly capable of that mo&s;t holy place, and glorious condition, vvhich is only fit for the purity of Saints and Angels: yet is there no que&s;tion a kind of clo&s;e &s;tubbornne&s;&s;e u&s;ually joyned vvith it, even in this our lovve&s;t dejection; thus I &s;ay, there may be though vve doe not all per|ceive it, too much &s;tomack in us: too much &s;to|mack; as much as to &s;ay, Since that God hath not delivered us from the&s;e &s;innes and vvretched unto|vvardne&s;&s;es, vve are therefore as it vvere carele&s;&s;e to be delivered from the puni&s;hment; as if a Father for &s;ome di&s;content &s;hould &s;hut his Child out of doores for an houre or tvvo, though perchance the Father aftervvards vvould let him come in, yet for&s;ooth he vvill not, but in a mogging humour lyes abroad all night. So verily in this afore&s;aid pa&s;&s;age and con|clu&s;ion of minde, as I conceive it, is not much unlike vvith us: as if God had fcarce dealt vvell enough vvith us, to let us fall into the&s;e &s;nares of &s;in and di&s;traction: therefore novv peradventure in this ca&s;e vve doe not much care for mercy; our Melan|cholly for&s;aken &s;oule, as <HI>David</HI> in the 77. <HI>P&s;alm,</HI> re|fu&s;eth comfort, and as <HI>Iacob</HI> at the &s;uppo&s;ed nevves of <HI><GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">o&s;ephs</HI> death, in the 37. of <HI>Gene&s;is,</HI> vvould not take comfort of his friend; &s;o now either we cannot, or will not take comfort from others; it is hard to tell <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ruely vvhich is the cau&s;e for &s;in&punc;</P>
<LG>
<PB N="100" REF="59">
<L>The&s;e motions have &s;o deep a &s;ecre&s;ie,</L>
<L>The truth thereof there's none can well di&s;cry.</L>
</LG>
<P>As I &s;ay, let the cau&s;e be vvhat it vvill be, either reall or imaginary, or deluding (for note this, that the exce&s;&s;e of Melancholly in many of us is altoge|ther a &s;trong di&s;tempered delu&s;ion of phan&s;ie) how|ever, &s;ure enough it is to our &s;eeming that vve are not able to receive it, becau&s;e vvhat&s;oever is &s;aid to us by any of our friends or others in the vvay of com|forting us, novv in this our extream di&s;tre&s;&s;e of mind: for the mo&s;t part it is all in vaine and to no purpo&s;e; as touching the &s;ins vvhich lye upon our con&s;ciences like mountaines of Lead, too heavy for us to beare. If it be urged and applyed that St. <HI>Peter</HI> for&s;vvare Chri&s;t his deare Lord and Ma&s;ter, after that he had a long time received &s;o many gracious courte&s;ies from him, after that he had been an anci|ent Apo&s;tle, full of heavenly vvi&s;edom and under|&s;tanding; that <HI>David</HI> committed both Murder and Adultery in his elder age, after he had familiarly vvalked vvith God many yeares together, and yet both the&s;e &s;o great offenders vvere ea&s;ily forgiven. Againe, that our Saviour Chri&s;t came into this World for nothing el&s;e, dyed for no other purpo&s;e but only to &s;ave &s;inners; and that he delighted in mercy whil&s;t he vvas here among&s;t us, rejo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">cing to doe his Fathers vvork, that great vvork of mercy; as appeareth by his generall Proclamation, <HI>Come unto me all yee that are weary and heavy laden, &amp;c.</HI> and as it eminently appeareth by his manner of conver&s;ation upon earth, by being u&s;ually among&s;t, and fami|liar with Publicans and &s;inners, by his favourable and kind &s;peech, and behaviour to that Woman ta|ken in Adultery, to <HI>Mary Magdalen,</HI> and the like. Nay <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">et once further, if it be urged and pre&s;&s;ed unto our Con&s;ciences that the mighty Jehovah, even the
<PB N="101" REF="59">
Lord God him&s;elfe in his ovvne vvords hath &s;poken by the Prophet <HI>Ezekiel, As I live, &s;aith the Lord God, I de&s;ire not the death of the wicked.</HI> And againe mo&s;t Pathe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t|cally by the Prophet <HI>I&s;aiah, Though your &s;ins were as crim&s;on they &s;hall be made as white as &s;now, though they were red like &s;carle<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">, they &s;hall be as wooll.</HI> If you vvill, I &s;ay if you vvill at la&s;t but endeavour to be reclaimed, if the con&s;ent, &amp;c. as it follovves in the next ver&s;e; intimating that it is not the greatne&s;&s;e of our &s;ins that can &s;eperate his mercy from us, if there be any de&s;ire or inclination to good, be it never &s;o little, even as nothing; for <HI>he will not quench the &s;moking flax, nor breake che brui&s;ed reed.</HI> Alas, it mu&s;t needs be a very little fire that doth but make the flax to &s;moak, when as it is &s;o combu&s;table a thing that the lea&s;t &s;parke is able to &s;et it in a flame. Alas, the brickle reed being brui&s;ed and cru&s;ht into &s;hivers it is a very little hold-fa&s;t that it hath, it is as good as quite broken off, and yet he will not breake it off, it &s;hall grow together againe, become firme and u&s;efull&punc; Such is the exceeding mercy of the Lord to poor &s;in|ners, even beyond all humane likelihood and ca|pacity.</P>
<LG>
<L>When man doth &s;ee no hope, or life at all,</L>
<L>Our God can then revive us with a call.</L>
</LG>
<P>And yet loe, all the&s;e comfortable per&s;wa&s;ions can doe no good, all this is but <HI>Surd<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> cavere.</HI> to &s;ing as it were to a dead man; this, nor nothing of this fits our Di&s;ea&s;e, it comes not aneer me thinks unto our ca&s;e, it agrees not with our malady, though <HI>Chri&s;t came into the world to &s;ave &s;inners,</HI> and though the Lord hath given mo&s;t large and mercifull promi&s;es in the Scripture for the comfort of &s;inners, yet this is no|thing to us, this concernes not &s;uch &s;inners as we; &s;uch grievous, &s;uch con&s;tant, &s;uch highly rebellious &s;inners; if others have &s;inned grievou&s;ly and yet
<PB N="102" REF="60">
are &s;aved, certaine there was a farre greater rea&s;on for it in their other towardline&s;&s;e to good, or the like, then that we can find in our &s;elves. Mark it, it is this our pre&s;ent untowardne&s;&s;e that alwaies puts us into the greate&s;t plunges of de&s;paire, and thus our thoughts &s;tand fully po&s;&s;e&s;t with nothing el&s;e but that we are remedile&s;&s;e wretches, de&s;perate mi&s;cre|ants, and utterly for&s;aken of God. And no marvaile, that thorough this &s;ad unhappine&s;&s;e of mind that we, we mi&s;erable, wretched, and &s;infull &s;ouls are thus for&s;aken, when as our ble&s;&s;ed Saviour him&s;elf in that his great agony of trouble, and di&s;tre&s;&s;e of minde on the Cro&s;&s;e cryed out, <HI>My God, my God, why ha&s;t thou for&s;aken me?</HI> No marvaile, I &s;ay, that we who are the greate&s;t of &s;inners &s;hould be for&s;aken, and left alone to &s;inke into unmercifull de&s;paire; when as he that was no &s;inner at all, even one with God him&s;elfe, with the imputative burden of our &s;ins, Cryed out, as if he had been left de&s;titute, and even ready to yeeld under them; <HI>My God, my God, why ha&s;t thou for&s;aken me?</HI> But to goe on, O the &s;trength of Me|lancholly, or rather indeed the &s;trength of &s;in, and a convicted Con&s;cience! In Melancholly natures there are no Arguments and Rea&s;ons of the mo&s;t skilfull Divines that can ea&s;e our hearts, or refre&s;h our &s;ouls in this extreamity of trouble, perhaps mo|derate Phy&s;ick, convenient employment, and the con&s;tant company, direction, and guidance of &s;ome wi&s;e under&s;tanding party may be nece&s;&s;ary outward helps for us; but verily the be&s;t inner comfort that at any time we doe gather, though u&s;ually it be but little, is as I have formerly &s;aid by tho&s;e that are, or have been afflicted with troubles and di&s;turbance of mind, &s;omewhat alike us in the &s;ame kind, either by a full under&s;tanding of the event, pa&s;&s;ages, and condition of their trouble, or el&s;e by conference
<PB N="103" REF="60">
with them if it may be, and communicating our e&s;tates and maladies together.</P>
<LG>
<L>Take't for a rule, that that Phy&s;ician &s;till</L>
<L>In all Di&s;ea&s;es fits the Patient be&s;t,</L>
<L>Who&s;e owne experience doth improve his skill,</L>
<L>And it confirmes with a probatum e&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<P>The experience, I &s;ay, of others mi&s;ery is the be&s;t &s;atisfaction we can find in our own; and truly we do not meet with a better or more generally &s;overaign &s;alve, in the comparing of all our judgments &amp; expe|riences together, then in the mid&s;t of all our grievous tortures and di&s;tre&s;&s;e of mind, to &s;trive wholly to re&s;t our &s;elves as quiet, as contented, and as patient as we may, and to tarry the Lords lea&s;ure. Our &s;ouls, our bodies, and all are in thine hands, O God, deale with us as it &s;hall &s;eeme good in thine eyes; if thou ha&s;t ordained and prepared us for Heaven, ble&s;|&s;ed be thy Name; if thou ha&s;t given us over, and that we are like Tares bound up and fitted for Hell, ble&s;&s;ed al&s;o be thy Name; it is doubtle&s;&s;e for thy glory, and it is but our ju&s;t de&s;ert; come life, come death, come Heaven, come He<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">l, the Will of the Lord be done; we are not able to &s;u&s;taine the care of our &s;elves, all the &s;trength of our poor &s;ouls and bo|dies is not &s;ufficient to take a full charge, or under|goe care enough to pre&s;erve the lea&s;t creature in the world, much le&s;&s;e of &s;o noble a creature as is the &s;oul of man: Since therefore we are not &s;ufficient for the&s;e things, we mu&s;t doe the be&s;t we may, and ca&s;t the re&s;t of our care upon God; humbly re&s;igning over our &s;elves unto him, that &s;o he may beare that care for us, which our weak and narrow <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ouls cannot beare for them&s;elves. Sure we doe not a little offend God, I am verily of the mind, in being over much di&s;|contented, and impatiently grieved, as many times we are in our &s;elves; <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ot though in the bitterne&s;&s;e of
<PB N="104" REF="61">
our mi&s;ery being per&s;waded to be content, and to be re&s;olved with more quietne&s;&s;e of mind, we &s;hall u&s;ually, not without rea&s;on, plead for our grieving and taking on &s;o deeply. O Lord, how can we be quiet and at re&s;t, to &s;u&s;taine &s;uch a Hell in our brea&s;ts? Can we carry fiery coals in our bo&s;ome and not be burnt therewith? Can our &s;oul be rackt with &s;uch tormenting angui&s;h of impious thoughts, and de&s;pairing terrours, and yet not weep, &s;igh, and abun|dantly complaine thereof? Doth not <HI>Hezekiah</HI> in the 38. of <HI>E&s;ay, Chatter like a Crow, and a Swallow, and mourn like a Dove,</HI> for the feare of cutting off of a few mo|mentary daies, and can we be &s;ufficiently impatient with griefe, to be cut off from the Land of the li|ving, even all hope of Heaven for ever? Shall <HI>Rachell</HI> mourne for the lo&s;&s;e of her Children &s;o that &s;he will not be comforted, and can we weep and cry out enough for the lo&s;&s;e of our &s;ouls unto all Eternity? Nay, can we endure but &s;o much as to conceive the Devill haling, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">erking, and tormenting any of our deare friends, either living or departed this life; I &s;ay, to &s;ee their di&s;tracted looks, to heare their la|mentable and intolerable cryes, and not to have our bowels melt within us; and we can endure to &s;ee our &s;elves turned out from the face of God for ever, to burne and fry mo&s;t de&s;ervedly with everla&s;ting paines in Hell fire. O let us alone at the thoughts of the&s;e things, to poure out our &s;elves into Oceans of tears, and to roare, even roare aloud forthe very di&s;|quietne&s;&s;e of our hearts. I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>O let us houle; cry out, and make a moane</L>
<L>Able to break the very hearts of &s;tone.</L>
</LG>
<P>So ju&s;t cau&s;e have we in this ca&s;e, me thinks, to forrow without mea&s;ure, nay more, if it were po&s;&s;ible, then to the very death: Is there any cau&s;e of &s;orrow like this cau&s;e? Weep not for me, that labour may
<PB N="105" REF="61">
be &s;pared to weep for other things: but weep for our &s;elves, there is cau&s;e enough; that is truly to be wept for, and nothing el&s;e but that for our &s;ouls un|happine&s;&s;e: And yet were it nothing el&s;e but our own eternall puni&s;hment and damnation that were to be lamented, though that were too too much, yet we could in &s;ome better &s;ort bear it; but this alas, who can bear this? how can we indure the&s;e impious rebellions of mind, which are not onely Gods pu|ni&s;hments for &s;in, but al&s;o a mo&s;t highly &s;infull un|towardne&s;&s;e it &s;elf. Since then it is as it is, how can we chu&s;e but vehemently take on and complaine in the angui&s;h of our &s;pirits? perchance it may be re|plyed again unto us, that &s;ure the&s;e rebellious unto|ward thoughts which we &s;o complain of, can be no &s;ins which are thus di&s;plea&s;ing, thus tedious, thus full of trouble unto us. How can that act of the under|&s;tanding be accounted ours, which we do not enjoy and truly con&s;ent unto? But grant what&s;oever may be &s;uppo&s;ed, grant they be our own, grant they may ju&s;tly be laid to our charge, and that the Divell in this ca&s;e doth plough as it were with our Heifer; and that we are partners with him therein; yet certainly, both in regard of the de&s;pairing condition of our &s;ouls, or the&s;e Hell-invented thoughts, doubtle&s;&s;e as I &s;ay, we are not a little offended in an over di&s;con|tented vexing our &s;elves, for patience in any mi&s;ery is the mo&s;t plea&s;ing and acceptable &s;acrifice unto God that can be, it is even a tended on with &s;ome ble&s;&s;ing in the end: As we may not &s;encele&s;ly &s;leight this judgement, &s;o we mu&s;t endeavour patiently to bear it; O Lord, thou ha&s;t written mo&s;t bitter things again&s;t us, thou pur&s;ue&s;t us with intolerable judge|ments; and yet we mu&s;t not cea&s;e in labouring to of|fer up <HI>Iobs</HI> patient re&s;olution, <HI>Although he &s;hould kill us,</HI> (even with a thou&s;and deaths) <HI>yet will we tru&s;t in him;</HI> O Lord give me leave to &s;peak it.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="106" REF="62">
<L>Thou <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">halt not &s;hake us off &s;o, here wee'l lye</L>
<L>Before thee pro&s;trate, if we dye we dye.</L>
</LG>
<P>It is the Lords judgement, that we may be &s;ure of, we are his creatures, and the work of his own hands, let him therefore do with us what &s;hall &s;eem good in his eyes; let this mi&s;ery be never &s;o bad, come never &s;o unhappily unto us, this is our wi&s;dome, we cannot do better then to keep our &s;elves calme from pretur|bations, as much as may be; and as the King of <HI>I&s;rael</HI> gave order to his &s;ervants to give no an&s;wer to rayl|ing <HI>Rab&s;hekah,</HI> neither good nor bad, &s;o let our affe|ctions, if it be po&s;&s;ible, give no an&s;wer at all, but &s;uffer the thoughts, terrours, and di&s;mayedne&s;&s;e of our minds, &s;ilently and quietly to pa&s;&s;e away againe unregarded as they came; for the&s;e thundering &s;torms and tempe&s;ts of inward troubles, when they fall down right upon us, in &s;uch a forcele&s;&s;e manner, like a violent &s;tream u&s;ually carries down all before it, it will by no means be &s;topt or contraried, untill it plea&s;e God thorough our own poore prayers, and the a&s;&s;i&s;ting prayers of our friends, by little and lit|tle to &s;end it away from us as it came: For this, I &s;ay this, take notice of it, this is alwaies between whiles our maine &s;tay and comfort, that there may po&s;&s;ibly be &s;ome hope of deliverance, at lea&s;t, from tho&s;e bit|ter troubles, in that we &s;trive to pray continually with &s;uch weak prayers, as we can and do earne&s;tly and often de&s;ire other our friends to pray for us. O Lord, though we dare not for feare, nor cannot for weakne&s;&s;e come unto thee our &s;elves, being brought &s;o low and feeble with this Pal&s;ie of the &s;oul, this heart-&s;haking and trembling di&s;ea&s;e, yet like the man &s;ick thereof in the Go&s;pel, we de&s;ire to be carried and commended unto thee by the prayers of others; and &s;ure, O Lord, thou knowe&s;t our mi&s;ery and trou|ble right well, by the reall experience of that thine
<PB N="107" REF="62">
owne, vvhen thou &s;aid&s;t in thine agony, in <HI>Mark</HI> 14 <HI>My &s;oal is exceeding &s;orrowfull unto the death.</HI> O thou that &s;uffered&s;t the like griefe, remember ours now at this time; O thou that ha&s;t dearer bowels of com|pa&s;&s;ion to man kind, then the mo&s;t affectionate mo|ther can have to her tender child, be not, O be not &s;o &s;o hard hearted unto us</P>
<LG>
<L>To thru&s;t us from thy face with that hard word,</L>
<L>In the immortall cen&s;ure of thine ire,</L>
<L>Depart from me, yee cur&s;ed of the Lord,</L>
<L>To dwell with Divels in eternall fire.</L>
</LG>
<P>Well, to go further with continued experience in this trouble, vve find our minds u&s;ually to be more full of troubled thoughts and di&s;quietne&s;&s;e, as al&s;o our bre&s;ts and &s;tomacks to be oppre&s;t and charged with a kind of aking pre&s;&s;ure and difficulty, about a pretty while after dinner or &s;upper; the ari&s;ing of melancholly fumes from concoction being, as I con|ceive, a concurring means &s;omwhat the more to di|&s;turbe us, &s;ure there be many outward things that encrea&s;e our inward melancholly in this mo&s;t me|lancholly time of a troubled con&s;cience, for behold in darke and gloomy vveather, how are we more then ordinary &s;olitarily &s;ad and pen&s;ive, being alto|gether a&s;toni&s;hed and confounded in our &s;elves with confu&s;ed clouds of unquiet di&s;tempers and amaze|ment: Againe, at the hearing of dolefull newes of death, or any di&s;mall accidents, how exceedingly will our hearts &s;well, and be even ready to bur&s;t with a mournfull reflecting dejectedne&s;&s;e of mind.</P>
<LG>
<L>Cum repeto noctos queis tot mihi chara reliquis.</L>
<L>Labitur ex oculis tunc quo&abque; gutta meis.</L>
<L>A teare doth &s;lide down on my cheeks</L>
<L>When I think on the nights,</L>
<L>Wherein I forced was to leave</L>
<L>So many deare delights.</L>
</LG>
<P><PB N="108" REF="63">
According to this of the Poet here, when as vve do but remember and think on the golden times that are pa&s;t, when as we do con&s;ider the deeds and plea|&s;ures that we then enjoyed, vvhich being now, gone have left us to remain &s;o unhappy behind them. How full of &s;adne&s;&s;e are vve to think that now we are &s;o mi&s;erable of what we vvere, &s;peaking mournfully to our &s;elves vvith <HI>Iob</HI> in the 29. chapter and 2. ver&s;e O that vve vvere as in the months pa&s;t, as in the daies when God pre&s;erved us, when his candle &s;hined upon our heads, and when by his light we walked thorough darkne&s;&s;e, as we vvere in the daies of our youth, &amp;c. Wi&s;hing, O thus <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;ay, wi&s;hing for no greater happine&s;&s;e then that tho&s;e times, and that condition of comfort might returne unto us again, the things and times that are pa&s;t, though never &s;o lately, &s;eemes to us, me thinkes, better then tho&s;e that are pre&s;ent; he that is at no ea&s;e thinks for the mo&s;t part what he feels to be the wor&s;t: &s;uch likewi&s;e is the nature of melancholly old age, ever to prai&s;e the daies of its youth, for <HI>mi<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">i<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> familiari<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">as parit contemptum,</HI> the familiar and &s;atisfying fruition of any thing, breeds a neglect and light re|gard thereof; and therefore now in our melanchol|ly moods &s;hall we be many times mu&s;ing alone, and &s;adly thinking, perchance whole daies together, on tho&s;e worthy men that are dead and gone, either of our acquaintance or others, whom we have noted and ob&s;erved for their good life and conver&s;ation here, while&s;t they were upon earth; accounting highly, of them, as holy and ble&s;&s;ed Saints, with a mo&s;t reverend re&s;pect of their deeds and &s;ayings, and ma|king much reckoning and e&s;teem of what&s;oever was theirs, and belonged unto them.</P>
<LG>
<L>Our &s;erious thoughts do Canonize their fame,</L>
<L>With the remembrance of a &s;acred name.</L>
</LG>
<P><PB N="109" REF="63">
And as <HI>Io&s;eph</HI> in the la&s;t of <HI>Gene&s;is,</HI> fell upon his dead fathers face, wept upon him, and ki&s;&s;ed him, &s;o do we fall upon the ble&s;&s;ed remembrance of our fore|fathers, not with a little affection of re&s;pect weep|ing upon them, and ki&s;&s;ing them with an holy love, and reverence of mind: After this manner the An|tients in Scripture &s;eem to expre&s;&s;e their &s;peciall re|guard to the pions antiquity of their friends departed, in u&s;ing to &s;ay, <HI>The God of Abraham, of I&s;aac, and of Ia|cob,</HI> as if they would intimate their piety, and devout affection to be the more unto him, becau&s;e he was their fathers God. But O the &s;trange effects of Me|lancholly in this di&s;ea&s;ed &s;tate of the &s;oul, our affe|ctions are now over-weeningly moved with every thing often times by rea&s;on of the u&s;uall pa&s;&s;ion of the heart, we are &s;o weakened in the ordinary power and ability of nature, that we &s;hall even as weakly and childi&s;hly &s;hrinke in our &s;elves, and be affraid of any thing, as is the &s;ucking child that lies in its mo|thers arms. Againe, &s;omtimes our conceipt doth &s;o much deifie the re&s;pect of holy things, per&s;ons, and places, and we &s;tand &s;o far off from them in reve|rence of mind, that we dare not draw neer, as it were, to touch &s;o much as the very hemme or out|&s;ide thereof. In like manner many times the com|mon &s;plendor of the Sky and Element, thorough the habituall terrour and con&s;ternation of our mind, &s;eemeth too bright for us; nay our &s;pirits are u&s;ually &s;o much taken off therewith, that we cannot abide to lift up our eyes to behold the lu&s;tre of it: the &s;ee|ing and hearing of divers ordinary things now and then, puts us into &s;uch &s;trange turmoyles and di&s;tem|pered fits of mind, that it is mo&s;t wonderfull to ima|gine it. In many of us the evill thoughts and di&s;tur|bances of our fancy do at length multiply into a greater and greater variety, and we become full of
<PB N="110" REF="64">
all &s;orts of vaine and tormenting imaginations what&s;oever almo&s;t &s;avours of either rebellion again&s;t God, or the de&s;pairing &s;tate of &s;oul or body; it is a chance but one time or other it comes into ourheads, be&s;ides, at length perchance many fooleries of mind and frivolous whim&s;ies, which verily at this time do not a little trouble and di&s;turbe us: among&s;t the re&s;t, when this trouble of mind and Con&s;cience continues with us long, it is &s;o altogether tedious and irk&s;ome, that we &s;hall many a time turne thus our thoughts within our &s;elves: Lord, how &s;hall we hold out in this ca&s;e? Will this trouble continue with us as long as we live? Shall we alwaies abide this Hell upon earth? We have &s;ometimes emboldened our &s;elves to hope, and hope againe to attaine &s;ome quieter temper of mind, and more contentfull condition; all is we &s;ee utterly in vaine, we &s;hall &s;ure never enjoy comfort any more: Alas, this is a mi&s;erable thing.</P>
<LG>
<L>O &s;hall we never &s;ee an end of this?</L>
<L>O never, never, this doth cut the heart;</L>
<L>This never, ah! &s;o &s;trange a word it is,</L>
<L>It kills us with a never dying &s;mart.</L>
</LG>
<P>Verily me thinks it is altogether in vaine for us to expect any end hereof, we &s;hall never be otherwi&s;e; for as he that is ca&s;t upon the Sea, and when he li&s;t|etn up his head to &s;wim out is pre&s;ently knockt down againe, that he mu&s;t needs be drowned; &s;o, even &s;o it &s;eems to be with us, we are ca&s;t upon this &s;ea of trouble and de&s;paire, and when we do but even be|gin to lift up our heads with the lea&s;t hope of amend|ment, then pre&s;ently do the&s;e de&s;pairing doubts, and amazing thoughts &s;trike us down againe, that it is no remedy but we mu&s;t needs be drowned, drow|ned for ever, and go down to Hell, and the Grave in this mi&s;ery.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="111" REF="64">
<L>Our day is gone, our joyes departed qnite,</L>
<L>Our Sun is &s;et in everla&s;ting night.</L>
</LG>
<P>This Similitude of being drowned, after that we have been long in this ca&s;e, doth &s;o well fit us that it will, or perchance &s;ome &s;uch like, often come into our minds, and therefore being as we &s;uppofe in this re|medile&s;&s;e condition, out of all hope of being &s;etled in mind againe, and being &s;hut out as it were from the joy of the living, and never like to re-attaine the common hope of all men, the po&s;&s;ibility of &s;alvation; therefore, as I &s;ay, being thus for&s;aken wretches, mon|&s;ters of men, and marked out for Hell, we neglect all care of our &s;elves, our de&s;olate and quite comfort|le&s;&s;e &s;ouls hardly giving us leave to take any u&s;e of the Creatures, not &s;o much as regarding our nece&s;|&s;ary Cloaths, the dre&s;&s;ing our &s;elves, our Victuals, or any thing: we are unworthy, O unworthy to tread on the ground, our hearts are &s;o much &s;mitten down, and even withered like Gra&s;&s;e, th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t we for|get to eat our bread; our tears are now become our meat and drink in this day of trouble; and perad|venture almo&s;t every night we water our beds with the abundance of them: Thou ha&s;t broken, O Lord, thou ha&s;t broken our hearts with grief; O remember that we poor wretches are but Gra&s;&s;e, and wilt thou pur&s;ue the dry &s;tubble? Sometimes it may be we &s;hall be &s;o farre dejected with a Dove-like &s;olitari|ne&s;&s;e of mind, that we are even upon a re&s;olution to exclude our &s;elves wholly out of the &s;ociety of men, to be private and alone &s;till, continually to keep our Chamber, or the like, and never to go abroad in company any more; thinking, what &s;hall we do abroad to meddle or make with any thing, who are thus as it were dead men, and out of the common condition of men, we will &s;et up our expe|ctation therefore, only now to wait and look for out
<PB N="112" REF="65">
end; we will do nothing el&s;e, that &s;hall be our whole bu&s;ine&s;&s;e, as it was <HI>lobs,</HI> in his 14. Chapter, when he &s;aid, <HI>All the dayes of mine appointed time will I wait, and do nothing el&s;e but wait till my change come:</HI> thus I &s;ay, we are &s;hut up from the joy of life, and like <HI>David</HI> in the 88. P&s;alm, <HI>Free, even altogether free among the dead, like unto them that be wounded and lye in the Grave, which be out of remembrance, and are cut away from thy hand; thou ha&s;t laid us verily as in the lowe&s;t p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t, in a place of dark|ne&s;se, and in the deep, thine indignation lyeth hard upon us, and thou ha&s;t vexed us with all thy &s;tormes.</HI></P>
<P>Many times is our apprehen&s;ion &s;o dangerou&s;ly out of joynt, and contrary to all good duties, e&s;peci|ally mo&s;t of all when we are at Church, when we are going to the publike Service of God, receiving the Sacrament, or the like; that we &s;hall ruminate thus in our minds: among&s;t all the re&s;t of our un|happine&s;&s;es, how much do we di&s;honour God to come to this holy place, and the&s;e holy duties with &s;uch prophane impieties within us, &s;ure we &s;hall halfe think it better not to come to the holy exerci&s;es at all then by going thereto to provoke Gods greater Judgement again&s;t us.</P>
<LG>
<L>Thus doth Devill alwaies 'ploy his wit,</L>
<L>If that he can to doe more mi&s;chiefe yet.</L>
</LG>
<P>But certain in the end we ever find it our be&s;t way, how cro&s;&s;e and aver&s;e &s;oever our mind be to keep our con&s;tant cour&s;e, and to hold on as &s;tedfa&s;t as may be in our outward endeavours, though it &s;eeme to be nevet &s;o much again&s;t our inward fee|ling; for we may ob&s;erve, that when we have no feeling in us in reading, praying, or the like duties of Religion, and when we find nothing in our &s;elves but contrarine&s;&s;e to that which is in hand, yet never|thele&s;&s;e by the then keeping our intention to it as neer as we can; and by lif<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ing up our thoughts toward
<PB N="113" REF="65">
the &s;ence to conceive and beleeve that which being for the pre&s;ent as we are; we cannot conceive and beleeve we &s;hall doubtle&s;&s;e afterwards the more ea&s;i|ly bring our thoughts into a due cour&s;e and order againe; for if we let flag our apprehen&s;ion wholly to follow our own feeling, and &s;uffer our di&s;turbed &s;oul to be its own guide herein, we may perchance fal into a &s;trange di&s;-re&s;pect and unregardfull prophanation of the mo&s;t &s;acred things, that we &s;hall hardly put it freely off again for the future. To proceed, every thing during the time of our trouble is &s;o altogether out of order within us, and our &s;pirits are &s;o daily &s;pent and wearied out with this continuall labour and toyl of mind, that we are as <HI>David</HI> in his 6. P&s;alm, &s;o weary, &s;o quite weary of our groanings and tor|menting troubles, that many times we doe wi&s;h to God that our apprehen&s;ions and under&s;tandings were rather taken cleane from us, then thus to be left alone to the mercile&s;&s;e torture of tho&s;e di&s;tractions; and truly were it not for Hell we &s;hould gladly re|joyce, and count it our chiefe&s;t happine&s;&s;e to dye, wi&s;hing, and often wi&s;hing with <HI>Iob</HI> in his 3 Chap|ter, the 11. and 12. ver&s;es, <HI>that we had never been borne into the world, for now</HI> (as it followes in the next ver&s;e, <HI>we &s;hould have <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">aine &s;till and been quiet, we &s;hould have &s;lept, then had we been at re&s;t with Kings and Coun&s;ellors of the earth:</HI> And againe, as it is in the 20. ver&s;e, <HI>Why is light given to him that is in mi&s;ery, and life unto the b<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">tter in &s;oul?</HI> Was it a plea&s;ure for thee, O Lord, to give us being that we might be mi&s;erable? <HI>Are we like the Whales,</HI> Iob 7. <HI>that thou &s;e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">te&s;t a watch over us?</HI> that thou wilt not &s;pare no<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> pa&s;&s;e by our iniquities? <HI>Wilt thou hunt us</HI> (as he he &s;peaks againe in his 10. Chapter) <HI>like a fierce Lion without mercy? ha&s;t thou provided us as wild bea&s;ts are provided, to be baited with de&s;truction?</HI></P>
<P>O no certainly, thou delighte&s;t not in the death of
<PB N="114" REF="66">
&s;inners, nor in the &s;ad condition of the wicked, it is doubtle&s;&s;e thy mercy that we are cha&s;tned, and thou ha&s;t compa&s;&s;ion on our di&s;tre&s;&s;es; we &s;hall thinke &s;ometimes in our extreme troubles, that it is not po&s;|&s;ible for us, that we can continue in this &s;tate above three or foure daies, or a weeke more, but either we &s;hall die with the very angui&s;h of &s;oul and body, which it &s;eems to us that we cannot &s;u&s;taine or in|dure any longer, or el&s;e that we &s;hall be quite &s;ence|le&s;&s;e and di&s;tracted out of our minds: O how many poore &s;ouls are there in the world, who being not able to beare their owne mi&s;ery any longer, either de&s;troy and de&s;perately ca&s;t away them&s;elves, or per|adventure grow utterly di&s;tracted therein; It is thy mercy, even thy great mercy, O Lord, that we are not thus confounded; O let us ever pray, and pray continually, upon our bare and bended knees, again&s;t this unhappine&s;&s;e, <HI>Hoc erit animae me ae vetum u&s;&abque; ad mor|tem,</HI> this &s;hall ever be my prayer untill I die, both for my &s;elf and others.</P>
<LG>
<L>Let our lives la&s;t no longer</L>
<L>Then that we may &s;erve God here;</L>
<L>Let affliction grow no &s;tronger,</L>
<L>Then we may with patience beare,</L>
</LG>
<P>When we do u&s;e to complaine to others of the&s;e terrible thoughts and troubles of mind, many will reply unto us, that they are the Devills, not ours, and that he meerly &s;ugge&s;ts and whi&s;pers them into our braines: But verily me thinks we cannot beleeve but that they are our own truly, flowing from our &s;in-corrupted &s;ouls, at lea&s;t wi&s;e that they are partly our own, for did they come meerly from without, from the Divel, it could not doubtles &s;o neerly touch us as they do. Our Saviour Chri&s;t him&s;elf was mo|ved from without, even to the highe&s;t impiety, to fall down and wor&s;hip the Devill: But &s;ure our
<PB N="115" REF="66">
thoughts are neerer to us, even from within, and tru|ly, not without rea&s;on, may be called ours: it may be the Devil hath his hand in them, &amp; it is no que&s;ti|on but <HI>God</HI> hath his hand in them al&s;o, laying them as a mercifull judgement upon us: And now, O Lord, it is high time, yea the time is come, that thou have mercy upon our &s;ouls, for why I know it grieveth thy very heart, O Lord, it pittieth thee full &s;ore to &s;ee them lie in the du&s;t thus pro&s;trate in their own mi|&s;ery: And thus have we broke the heart of our trou|bles, and pa&s;t over the chief pa&s;&s;ages of this tragicall &s;tory of the <HI>Soul troubled in Con&s;cience.</HI></P>
<P>The&s;e troubles may perhaps continue with us two or three years before they begin to weare away; and then when by Gods mercy, they begin to &s;lacken the mind and con&s;cience, by little and little, takes &s;ome re&s;t and &s;atisfaction, and though fits of di&s;turbance do now and then come upon us, yet it is more &s;el|dom then before.</P>
<P>After the &s;trength of this &s;torme is pa&s;t, we u&s;ual|ly feel our inner man begin to be born againe into a new condition, the former hard and &s;tony fle&s;h of our hearts, like <HI>N<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">amons</HI> fle&s;h, being tender and <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e|newed, even as the fle&s;h of a young child <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 word"> lo, we can kindly weep now with the humility of chil|dren, think none evill with the &s;implicity and &s;ingle heartedne&s;&s;e of children, love dearly and tenderly with the affection of children, cry <HI>Abba, Father,</HI> with the comfort and confidence of children. And here me thinks we cannot but remember, even with joy and admiration, the truth of that divine wi&s;dome which our Saviour hath &s;poken in <HI>Iohn&punc; Except a man be born againe, be cannot &s;ee the Kingdom of God,</HI> Except we be borne againe, and become like little children, we cannot enter into the Kingdom of God, for of &s;uch as he &s;aid in <HI>Mark</HI> 10. is or doth con&s;i&s;t the King|dom
<PB N="116" REF="67">
of God. Doubtle&s;&s;e, when the &s;oul is thus won|derfully born againe, from the depth of &s;in and mi|&s;ery into comfort and grace, although the comfort be but little, even very little perchance in &s;ome of us; yet it is <HI>Magna animae regeneratio,</HI> I &s;ay, no doubt a great regeneration and new birth of the &s;oul, and that which we have great cau&s;e to rejoyce of; for you mu&s;t under&s;tand it plea&s;eth God differently to di&s;po&s;e of the finall period and conclu&s;ion of this our trouble according to his mo&s;t ble&s;&s;ed Will and pur|po&s;e, giving &s;ome of us much more joy in the end of it then &s;ome; as al&s;o in &s;ome of us, continuing it like an ach in the limbs, ever now and then to mind us untill our dying day; and &s;ome of us againe after a while never feele it any more. O Lord, what reward of thanks can we give unto thy mercy that ha&s;t done &s;o great things for us whereof we now rejoyce? Ve|rily no Tongue can &s;peak, no finite under&s;tanding can comprehend, it hath never entred into the appre|hen&s;ion of either man or Angell, the infinite good|ne&s;&s;e that thou do&s;t extend to the &s;ouls of &s;inners.</P>
<LG>
<L><HI>O now with</HI> David <HI>we may &s;weetly &s;ing,</HI> <NOTE PLACE="marg">P&s;al. 101. 1</NOTE></L>
<L><HI>Of Mercy and Iudgement to our heavenly King.</HI></L>
</LG>
<P>And hath the Lord God Almighty, that is mo&s;t wonderfull in all his Works done this great Miracle for us, in ca&s;ting out this foul Devill, this foming and raging Beelzebub, this chief of all mi&s;ery out of our &s;ouls? O let us then take heed <HI>that we &s;inne &s;o no more lea&s;t a wor&s;e thing come unto us,</HI> lea&s;t he get power to come in againe, and bring &s;even other with him wor&s;e then him&s;elfe. Here you may take notice as I &s;ay, That in &s;ome of us this our mi&s;ery is not &s;o fully quencht, nor this Devill &s;o ca&s;t out, but that there remains in us ever now and then the touches of our former mi&s;ery, though the heart of it be broken yet the being is not wholly taken away;
<PB N="117" REF="67">
God in his infinite Wi&s;edome &s;o ordering it, per|chance to exerci&s;e our patience, or &s;ome other cau&s;e which he only knoweth, and we cannot fully judge; only let this be our chiefe&s;t care &s;ithence &s;in and mi|&s;ery mu&s;t needs dwell with us whil&s;t we live, that (if po&s;&s;ible) we keep our &s;elves within the compa&s;&s;e of patience, and humility in all conditions of our life, let us in patience po&s;&s;e&s;&s;e our &s;ouls; and though as St. <HI>Paul</HI> in the 20. of the <HI>Acts,</HI> when he was going to <HI>Ieru&s;alem</HI> knew not what things &s;hould come unto him there, &s;ave only &s;aith he, <HI>That the Holy Gho&s;t wit|ne&s;&s;eth in every City, &s;aying, That bands and afflictions abide me:</HI> &s;o we that are travelling to the new <HI>Ieru&s;a|lem,</HI> being &s;ure of nothing in our Journey, but &s;ure of trouble, yet as <HI>Aeneas</HI> in the Poet, comforted his wandering Souldiers, whom nece&s;&s;ity had bani&s;ht from their own Country, that the De&s;tiny had pro|mi&s;ed them in the end a re&s;ting place in <HI>Italy,</HI> I &s;ay as he thus comforted them:</P>
<Q>Pervarios ca&s;os per tot di&s;crimina rerum tendimus in latium &s;edes ubi fata quietus o&s;tendunt.</Q>
<P>So in like manner may we Pilgrims and Stron|gers of this world thus cheere up our &s;elves in con&s;i|deration of our Journies end, although that now</P>
<LG>
<L>Thorough many dangers, mi&s;eries and woe,</L>
<L>Like Pilgrimes we are to&s;&s;ed to and fro:</L>
<L>Our comfort is, the Fates tell we &s;hall come</L>
<L>In death at length to have a re&s;ting home.</L>
</LG>
<P>Whil&s;t this our trouble is wearing away we &s;hall be for the mo&s;t part full of charitable and fellow-feeling thoughts to be lovingly affected, and doing good unto all, e&s;pecially to the di&s;tre&s;&s;ed in what ca&s;e &s;oever, even unto our utmo&s;t ability; as al&s;o we &s;hall u&s;e to be frequently weeping, and condoling our un|happy life; weeping I &s;ay, and &s;orrowing like me|lancholiy <HI>Heraclitus,</HI> and wi&s;hing that we might di&s;|&s;olve
<PB N="118" REF="68">
out the re&s;idue of our daies into teares, in redee|ming the time becau&s;e our daies have been &s;o evill; and that the whole action of our momentary life might now be nothing el&s;e but a mournfull and Swan-like Song of preparation to our end.</P>
<LG>
<L>Our &s;ighing &s;oul with Dove-like melody</L>
<L>L<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ments her &s;ins, and learneth how to dye.</L>
</LG>
<P><HI>Iacob</HI> when <HI>Pharaoh</HI> asked him how old he was, an|&s;wered, <HI>That his daies were few and evill;</HI> how much more truly may we &s;ay of our &s;hort and &s;infull daies, <HI>that they are few and evill:</HI> he was an old man, and yet <HI>his daies were few,</HI> he was a good man, and yet <HI>his daies were evill.</HI> Oh the &s;hort and evill e&s;tate of mans life! wi&s;e men have alwaies accounted their daies but few, for that their thoughts are fixt upon God, and then &s;aies <HI>David, Min<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> age is nothing in re&s;pect of thee;</HI> and againe, for that their thoughts are fixt upon the ble&s;&s;ed Eternity of the world to come, and then they con&s;ider with St. <HI>Paul, That they have no continuing City here, but they &s;eeke one to come.</HI> I &s;ay, wi&s;e men thus e&s;teemed their daies few, and they accounted them likewi&s;e evill; evill in regard of &s;in, for they feele the experience of St. <HI>Pauls</HI> ca&s;e, <HI>That when they would doe good evill is pre&s;ent with them:</HI> and evill al&s;o in regard of mi&s;ery, for <HI>Iob</HI> &s;aies, <HI>Man is borne to trouble as the &s;parkes fly upwards.</HI> And is it not too true that man is thus borne to trouble? If not, what meaneth that complayning which I heare? Harke how <HI>Cai<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e</HI> cries out in the fourth of <HI>Gene&s;is, My puni&s;hment is greater then that I am able to beare;</HI> and do you not heare <HI>Eliah</HI> under the Juniper Tree, in the fir&s;t of <HI>Kings,</HI> the 19. Chapter, how he reque&s;teth for him&s;elfe, <HI>That he might dye:</HI> and <HI>Ionah</HI> under the Gourd, &s;aying, <HI>Take away my life, for it is better for me to dye then to live. Ieremy</HI> is even blind with weeping, <HI>Lamentations</HI> the &s;econd Chapter, <HI>Mine eyes doe faile with teares, my bowels are</HI>
<PB N="119" REF="68">
troubled, my liver is poured out upon the earth and all for the affliction of his people for the mi&s;ery of man; <HI>Salomon</HI> in the 6. of <HI>Eccle&s;ia&s;tes,</HI> thinks it farre better not to be borne then to undergoe the mi&s;eries of this life; how often doth <HI>Iob</HI> lament his daies, and <HI>David</HI> complaine of his troubles? the <HI>Shunamites.</HI> Child in the &s;econd of <HI>Kings</HI> cries out, <HI>O my head, my head;</HI> another perchance cries out, Oh my &s;tomack, oh my heart, oh my Con&s;cience, oh my belly, oh my feet; <HI>A capite ad calcem,</HI> from the top to the toe, from the beginning to the end; for ought we can perceive there is little true comfort or plea&s;ure in the life of man.</P>
<LG>
<L>With teares we came into this life,</L>
<L>With &s;orrow we go out againe:</L>
<L>We live in trouble, care, and &s;trife,</L>
<L>And have our labour for our paine.</L>
</LG>
<P>We have &s;een not a little experience of the mani|fold changes and variety of alterations that are Crea|ted for mankind under the Sun, and verily me thinks the coun&s;ell of <HI>Eccle&s;ia&s;ticus</HI> in his 38 Chapter, and the 20 Ver&s;e, well weighing the condition of all things is full of wi&s;edom and di&s;cretion, that is, To take no heavine&s;&s;e to heart, to drive it away, and to remem|ber the latter end. I &s;ay, To take no heavine&s;&s;e to heart; that is, Not to grieve over much, or take on out of rea&s;on, lea&s;t as St. <HI>Paul</HI> &s;aid of the excommu|nicate per&s;on in the &s;econd Epi&s;tle to the <HI>Corinthians,</HI> and &s;econd Chapter, <HI>We be &s;wallowed up of too much &s;orrow;</HI> for this being &s;wallowed up too much, this over-yeelding up our &s;trength of nature to &s;olitary griefe, and mournfull Melancholly gives the Devill many times great advantage of us, as he intimates in the 11. ver&s;e of the afore&s;aid Chapter, <HI>Lea&s;t Sathan,</HI> &s;aies he, <HI>&s;hould g<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t advantage of us;</HI> for we are not igno|rant of his devices, indeed we ought duly to be hum|bled,
<PB N="120" REF="69">
and as St. <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaks in the fir&s;t Epi&s;tle to the <HI>Corinthians,</HI> the 5. Chapter, <HI>To deliver over our &s;elves, our &s;encele&s;&s;e &s;tubbornne&s;&s;e unto Satan for a time, for the de&s;truction of the fle&s;h, that the &s;pirit may be &s;aved in the day of the Lord Ie&s;us.</HI> But we mu&s;t under&s;tand al&s;o, that it is not convenient for us to grieve without mea&s;ure, and without end, for certainly it is not the &s;orrow of heart that doth help us in &s;uch di&s;ea&s;e, it may hinder us of help, it is the religious cheerfulne&s;&s;e of a better de&s;ire that in time works the cure; there|fore we may herein advi&s;e our &s;elves as St. <HI>Paul</HI> did <HI>Timothy,</HI> in his fir&s;t Epi&s;te unto him, and 5. Chap|ter, <HI>To drink no longer water,</HI> that is, not to feed too much on the bread of carefulne&s;&s;e, nor drink in the water of affliction into our &s;ouls, but to u&s;e therewith a little wine; I &s;ay a little wine, <HI>Wine which</HI> (as <HI>Da|vid</HI> &s;aith) <HI>maketh a merry heart;</HI> to &s;trive to take com|fort, and to be merry in the feare of God, whereby nature may be the better enabled al&s;o, to &s;et to her a&s;&s;i&s;ting hand in the deliverance: Mirth cannot erre as long as it remembers its latter end, and the feare of God, to enjoy both our &s;elves and Gods ble&s;&s;ings in a moderate and cheerfull manner is not only law|full but nece&s;&s;ary for us; Religion is no enemy to hone&s;t mirth, neither doth the Almighty de&s;ire the death of &s;inners, but their life; their death of griefe but their life of grace. Alas, we are but weak Crea|tures, and of a &s;hort continuance. O Lord, we have &s;inned, as <HI>Iob</HI> &s;aith in his &s;eventh Chapter, <HI>What &s;hall we doe unto thee, O thou pre&s;erver of men?</HI> and as he &s;aith againe in his &s;ixth Chapter, <HI>Is our &s;trength the &s;trength of &s;tones; or is our fle&s;h of bra&s;se?</HI> O Lord, we cannot abide the fury of thy wrath for &s;in, nor are we able to behold thy &s;ierce indignation; thou therefore that bringe&s;t man to de&s;truction, humble&s;t him downe to Hell, and the Grave, and &s;weetly &s;aye&s;t, <HI>Come</HI>
<PB N="121" REF="69">
<HI>againe yee children of men,</HI> re-exalte&s;t him to thy fa|vour. O con&s;ider that our age is &s;hort, even no more then as a &s;pan long, we are, alas <HI>we are but Pilgrimes, Strangers, and Sojourners here as all our fathers were; O &s;pare us, therefore &s;pare us a little,</HI> this little &s;pace which remaines of our life, <HI>that we may recover our &s;trength, before we go hence and be no more &s;eene.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>Before we goe thither from whence we &s;hall</L>
<L>Returne no more, no more, no more at all.</L>
</LG>
<P>And now me thinks I heare the Body thus &s;peak|ing unto the Soule, O my love, wilt thou goe away from me? Alas, wilt thou goe away from me? thou knowe&s;t that I have no comfort at all but thee, thou art my joy, my whole delight, and wilt thou be gone, and leave me behind here to be ut|terly ca&s;t away, to putrifie, rot, and peri&s;h in the earth? If the Di&s;ciples were &s;o &s;ad and &s;orrowfull at the departure of St. <HI>Baul,</HI> in that he &s;aid, <HI>They &s;hould &s;ee his face no more;</HI> how doe&s;t thou think I can chu&s;e but even &s;woone and dye with conceit that thou wilt thus leave me, me poore wretch, that can have no being nor &s;ub&s;i&s;tence without thee? but lo, the Soul replies. Why do&s;t thou weep my deare? though I mu&s;t goe from thee for a time yet be not di&s;comfor|ted, I will come and &s;ee thee againe, and embrace thee with everla&s;ting embracements, I will then never goe from thee more; O give me leave to de|part, for God hath decreed it, Nature hath appointed it, we cannot live together on Earth as we be, but we &s;hal live together hereafter in a mo&s;t ab&s;olute and per|fect being, we mu&s;t needs &s;ubmit to mortality:</P>
<LG>
<L>Ah, there's no continuing here, my &s;weet heart,</L>
<L>Death doth the deare&s;t lovers part;</L>
<L>For why? we are mortall and all mu&s;t away,</L>
<L>To take our lodging down in the clay.</L>
</LG>
<P>But though we lye down yet &s;hall we ri&s;e againe,
<PB N="122" REF="70">
and that even in a while; for loe, but little while, and he that &s;hall come to open the Graves, to fold up the Heavens like a &s;croll, and to unbarre the fatall &s;trength of time; I &s;ay, he that &s;hall come will come, and will not tarry. Oh! but a little while, and the Son of man &s;hall appeare like the bright Lightning, with the glorious company of his mo&s;t holy An<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">els, to gather together the foure corners of the earth, even the people from the one end thereof unto the other unto a day of Judgement, where we &s;hall then &s;tand before the Judgement Seat of God, to be &s;etled in a perpetuall and never ending condition: where|fore let our &s;pirits, O let our &s;pirits, and all that is within us with the a&s;piring Lark humbly mount up to meet the Lord in the Clouds now before hand; with this melodious Antheme, this &s;ong of Sion in our mouthes, <HI>O ble&s;&s;ed Ie&s;u, remember us with mercy wh<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">n thou comme&s;t into thy Kingdome; O thou that comme&s;t <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"> judge the world condemn<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">us not for our &s;ins at the la&s;t day; O &s;weet Saviour deliver us from that red Dragon, which <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">peneth his terrible mouth ready to devoure us: O pre&s;erve us a while here on earth, that we may be with thee for ever in Heaven.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>To &s;ee the mighty glory and renowne</L>
<L>Of him that is, and was, and is to come,</L>
</LG>
<P>And to that end make us, O make us in the&s;e few houres which we have to live, never to forget the words which thou faide&s;t of thy &s;elfe in the ninth of St. <HI>Iohn,</HI> the fourth ver&s;e, whil&s;t thou wa&s;t on earth among&s;t us: <HI>I mu&s;t worke the workes of him that &s;ent me while it is day, the night commeth when no man can worke:</HI> That we may take this thy example for a patterne all our lives long, and may turne this thy holy re&s;oluti|on into our practice and meditation continually. Fir&s;t, that as thou did&s;t worke, &s;o mu&s;t we worke here and not be idle. 2. That as thou did&s;t worke
<PB N="123" REF="70">
the works of him that &s;ent thee into the world, &s;o mu&s;t we al&s;o work the will of our father which is in Heaven. 3. That as thou did&s;t it in thy day, &s;o mu&s;t we do it in our day, this day of our life. 4. For as the night, the night of thy Pa&s;&s;ion commeth, &s;o our night of death is continually approaching. 5. And then no man can work, even no man at all can work out his &s;alvation. O excellent rule I here is roome enough for our &s;ouls to exerci&s;e their thoughts day and night, even this day of working untill that night of re&s;t; this day of life untill that night of death, when no man can work. To begin with the fir&s;t ob&s;ervation, that as our Saviour Chri&s;t &s;o mu&s;t we Chri&s;tians work and take pains; before <HI>I&s;rael</HI> could come to their Canaan of re&s;t they did pa&s;&s;e thorough a wilderne&s;&s;e of troubles: no end can be attained but by the means&punc; there is no comming to &s;alvation but by the way, no getting into Heaven but thorough the Gate; and our Saviour hath told us (we mu&s;t be|leeve it) <HI>That &s;traight is that Gate, and narrow is that way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that finde it:</HI> if we mu&s;t eat our bread with the &s;weat of our brows, &s;ure we cannot &s;ave our &s;ouls with being idle. if God will not part from his earthly things, which in St, <HI>Pauls</HI> language are but dung, unle&s;&s;e we give for them our labour and travell, will he &s;ell us that pre|cious pearl, the Kingdom of Heaven for nothing? No, no; the Merchant-man in the Go&s;pell &s;old all that he had to buy it, and we mu&s;t not think to have it at a cheaper rate. <HI>Quam laboren &s;u&s;cipimus a&s;cendere colles quid vero ut a&s;cendamus coelum.</HI> So St. <HI>Cyprian,</HI> what labour do we take to get up a hill, how much more mu&s;t we take to get up to Heaven. Our Savi|our tooke not his Di&s;ciples of idle per&s;ons, but of painefull Fi&s;hermen, and from the mid&s;t of their la|bours to &s;hew us, that Chri&s;tianity is not a lazie
<PB N="124" REF="71">
Trade, an idle Profe&s;&s;ion: there is not one of the Saints gone before us but hath trod many a weary &s;tep ere he came to Heaven, the gall of outward cro&s;&s;es, and the vinegar of inward afflictions that was their portion to drink; and doubtle&s;&s;e had there been an ea&s;ier way they had not all trod in &s;o rugged a path. Chri&s;t is truly our way, and he him&s;elfe had no better portion in all his life, but continuall labour and travell; he was alwaies working, as here I mu&s;t work, &s;aies he, <HI>The works, &amp;c.</HI> he was ever all his life long walking to and fro, taking care and pains in Preaching, doing Miracles, full of troubled and pen|&s;ive thoughts, <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">orrowing and weeping even many times in the griefe of his &s;pirit, but &s;eldome or not at all &s;hall we finde him &s;itting &s;till without employ|ment, laughing, making merry, or taking any recrea|tion, and though we cannot come neere his perfe|ction, yet &s;aith one, <HI>Deus abunde declaravit in fillio qua ratione &s;ervos &s;uos in hoc orbe tractari veli<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">.</HI> God hath plainly &s;hewed, that &s;ince his Son did undergoe &s;o much trouble, his &s;ervants may not expect only to live at plea&s;ure, in re&s;t and content. What a toyl had Saint <HI>Paul</HI> to pa&s;&s;e thorough this vale of mi&s;ery in watchings, in fa&s;ting, in prayer, in fightings, in all manner di&s;quietne&s;&s;e.</P>
<LG>
<L>Nunquam bella piis nunquam certamina de&s;unt,</L>
<L>Et quocum certet meus pin &s;emper bab<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">t.</L>
<L>Tryalls and troubles alwaies are at hand,</L>
<L>True piety of minde for to with&s;tand.</L>
</LG>
<P>The righteous man mu&s;t not look to have his por|tion of good things in this life, all that will live god|ly here are to make their accounts of nothing el&s;e but difficulties and carefull inconveniences to attend them; &s;nares and temptations from without, terrors and di&s;tre&s;&s;e of mind from within; every day, every houre, every moment, &s;omething is out of order; if
<PB N="125" REF="71">
we be not furni&s;hed from top to toe with Saint <HI>Pauls</HI> Armour, we mu&s;t looke for nothing but wounds and foyles in this &s;pirituall life, for <HI>Congrediendum e&s;t tan|quam in arie voluptuariis rebus;</HI> &s;o <HI>Macrobius,</HI> We mu&s;t fight like Souldiers again&s;t the temptations of the World, and as Souldiers we mu&s;t not only fight, but watch too. Watch, I &s;ay, day and night, &s;tanding in readine&s;&s;e again&s;t our &s;pirituall adver&s;ary, who go|eth about continually like a roaring Lyon, &s;eeking whom he may devoure. What &s;hall I &s;ay? if we looke on all particulars, a chri&s;tians life is nothing for the mo&s;t part, but a reall purgatory upon Earth, an Hereulian labour, the very Epitome of all diffi|culties. <HI>Lucian</HI> could &s;ay it, <HI>Non parum e&s;t re&s;i&s;tere to<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> quidem voluptatibus,</HI> It is no &s;mall matter to encoun|ter with &s;o many plea&s;ures, much more with &s;o many &s;ins, &s;o many terrors of mind; we have here verily a hard race to run, a hard Battell to fight, yet &s;o fight we, as not tho&s;e that beat the ayre; &s;o run we, as not uncertainly; there is an eternall weight of glory &s;et before us, a certainty of comfort in the end; feare not, our Saviour hath &s;aid it, it is your Fathers plea|&s;ure to give you a Kingdome for your labour, <HI>Quod|libet opus leve e&s;t quum praemium ejus cogitatur,</HI> &s;aith <HI>Ierome,</HI> There is no pains can be thought too much, when we con&s;ider the greatne&s;&s;e of the recompence. Saint <HI>Paul</HI> is per&s;waded that nothing that we undergoe in this life, can be worthy the glory that &s;hall be revealed; and well might he &s;o thinke: O Lord, the utmo&s;t that we can do or &s;uffer, is not worth the lea&s;t glimp&s;e of that glory which thou ha&s;t prepared for them that love thee, and yet thou accepte&s;t the weakne&s;&s;e of our poore de&s;ires, as an ample &s;atisfaction; when we have done all that po&s;&s;ibly we can do. we have done but our duties, we are unprofitable &s;ervants, and yet &s;o abundant is thy goodne&s;&s;e towards us, that thou wilt
<PB N="126" REF="72">
be plea&s;ed to impute that unto us, which is &s;o &s;mall a matter, that we cannot of our &s;elves acknowledge it to be any thing, for they &s;hall an&s;wer as it is in the 25. of Saint <HI>Matthew, When &s;aw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or thir&s;ty, and gave thee drinke, &amp;c.</HI> And the King &s;hall an&s;wer and &s;ay unto them again, <HI>Verily I &s;ay unto you, in as much as yee have done it unto the lea&s;t of the&s;e my Brethren, yee have done it, &amp;c.</HI> Verily, I will accept of this, this nothing, as it were, of yours, as a great reward, and this is the reward, this is the price that we mu&s;t give for Heaven, a purcha&s;e truly vvell worth the utmo&s;t that vve can do: For</P>
<LG>
<L>Quid potes aeterno pro munere forre laboris,</L>
<L>Mercedi an tantae par labor e&s;&s;e pote&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<P>I &s;ay,</P>
<LG>
<L>What labour is enough? what &s;weat? what paine?</L>
<L>For to receive &s;uch an immortall gaine.</L>
</LG>
<P>Be we not &s;tartled at the difficulty of the worke, for &s;aith <HI>Seneca, It is not the part of a man, to be affraid of labour,</HI> much le&s;&s;e of a Souldier, and much le&s;&s;e yet of a chri&s;tian Souldier, who &s;erves &s;uch a Generall, that he may be &s;ure will never deceive him, nor ca&s;t him off without his pay, for he &s;erves him with whom there is no variablene&s;&s;e at all, nor &s;hadow of change, even God him&s;elfe; which is the next ob&s;ervation, and now to be con&s;idered. As our Saviour vvrought the vvorks of him that &s;ent him into the world, &s;o mu&s;t vve Chri&s;tians vvorke and do the will of our Father which is in Heaven, vve are taught, <HI>not my, but thy will be done, &amp; quid melius potes velle quam qu<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"> Deus vult,</HI> what is there that thon can&s;t rather de&s;ire then to do the vvill of God? &s;aith the Philo&s;opher, Gods will is the Centre of all humane wills, where they naturally enjoy their re&s;t and quiet, and though they may for a time &s;eeme to fixe a kinde of delight and plea&s;ing &s;atisfaction on other things, yet is there
<PB N="127" REF="72">
no true, no perfect and full re&s;t, but in Gods vvill. O thou &s;oul of man, why do&s;t thou &s;end out thy thoughts &s;o far, to &s;eeke re&s;t and happine&s;&s;e in rithes, in honours, in learning, in plea&s;ure; alas, in the&s;e things it is not to be found, <HI>intra te e&s;t falicitas tua,</HI> thou mu&s;t looke after it within thee, if thou meane to finde it thy under&s;tanding, thy vvil, and thine affections, &s;weetly turned to the Service of God; This, O this, alone is that good vvhich hath true content. No, <HI>S<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">mp&s;ons</HI> &s;trength, <HI>Salomons</HI> vvi&s;dome, or <HI>Davids</HI> victo|ries, can give any felicity at all to the mind of man&punc; vvithout God; in the performance of Gods vvill is the vvhole perfection of mans good: And therefore</P>
<LG>
<L>When Adam did at fir&s;t Gods will tran&s;gre&s;&s;e,</L>
<L>He made us &s;laves to all unhappine&s;&s;e,</L>
</LG>
<P>That was it that brought &s;o much trouble, &s;o many &s;ickne&s;&s;es, &s;o much death and hell into the World&punc; and it is that &s;till that keeps us in perpetuall mi&s;ery; we eat and are not &s;atisfied, we labour and have no comfort therein, and all becau&s;e we do not fully &s;ubmit our &s;elves to Gods Will; there is nothing can do us good any further then as it is conformable to the Will of God: for behold, we may work, and work hard all our lives long even in the be&s;t things, and be never the nearer Heaven. Thus doth our Re|ligion make no progre&s;&s;e to &s;alvation, when we will be religious only after our own fa&s;hion; here none but &s;uch things as plea&s;e our humour, practice &s;uch piety as huggs our Genious&punc; this is as St. <HI>Paul</HI> &s;peaks in the third Chapter of the &s;econd Epi&s;tle to <HI>Timothy,</HI> this is verily I &s;ay, to be lovers of plea&s;ures, of our own phan&s;ie and delight, more then lovers of God, having in profe&s;&s;ion a forme of godline&s;&s;e, but in effect denying the power thereof: and thus, when there is &s;o much of our &s;elves put into the duties of Religion, our fa&s;ting, our prayers, our almes, and the like, we
<PB N="128" REF="73">
may &s;ay as St. <HI>Iames</HI> did in another ca&s;e, Sure this Re|ligion is vaine, and altogether in vaine. <HI>Tam grande malum e&s;t voluntas propria.</HI> So great a mi&s;chiefe, &s;aith St. <HI>Bernard</HI> is our own will, even &s;o great a mi&s;chief that it breaks the neck of all religious duties be they never &s;o glittering, making them as the father hath it only, <HI>Splendida peccata,</HI> glorious &s;ins, whereas an humble conformity to do the Will of God, though with the meane&s;t abilities is a great proficiency in Chri&s;tianity, a little leaven of our own wtll and hu|mour in the &s;ervice of God is of &s;uch an infectious &s;trength, that it is able to &s;ower the whole lump of Religion; &s;o nece&s;&s;ary it is for us, as our Saviour &s;aith to, <HI>Beware of this leaven of the Phari&s;ees,</HI> the hu|mour&s;ome &s;elfe-conceitedne&s;&s;e of our owne waies, <HI>Who&s;oever will come after Chri&s;t mu&s;t deny him&s;elfe,</HI> I &s;ay, <HI>mu&s;t deny him&s;elfe, and take up his Cro&s;&s;e and follow him;</HI> for they that are Chri&s;ts have crucified the fle&s;h with the affections and lu&s;ts; they have renounced their owne wils, they have put off them&s;elves with that <HI>fiat voluntas tua,</HI> Thy will be done. It &s;hall not profit us to give away all our goods to the poore, or even to l<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;e our lives, unle&s;&s;e it be in <HI>Ordine ad Deum,</HI> to per|form Gods will, &amp; for his &s;ake. S. <HI>Paul</HI> vvhen he be|gan to live the life of a Chri&s;tian, left off to live the life of a naturall man, <HI>I live,</HI> &s;aith he, <HI>Gal.</HI> 2. 2. <HI>Yet not I, but Chri&s;t liveth in me.</HI> Thus mu&s;t Chri&s;tianity thru&s;t out nature becau&s;e the naturall man cannot plea&s;e God; O Lord, whil&s;t we are in the fle&s;h, we cannot &s;erve thee as we would; but Oh that we were delivered from this &s;ervitude of &s;in, that we might freely imbrace this hea|venly imployment, <HI>Maxiraum e&s;t munus Deo mini&s;trare, I&s;ocrates</HI> counts it the be&s;t office in the World to &s;erve God; And how can it be otherwi&s;e? for as one notes, that Saints in Heaven do rather rejoyce in doing the will of God, then in injoying their owne happine&s;&s;e.
<PB N="123" REF="73">
O ble&s;&s;ed worke, can we but de&s;ire that which is as good as Heaven it &s;elfe.</P>
<LG>
<L>The trade of Saints is to rejoyce alwaies</L>
<L>In their Creators will, and &s;ing his prai&s;e.</L>
</LG>
<P>For thus they &s;ay in the fourth of the <HI>Revelations,</HI> and the 11. <HI>ver&s;. Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour, and power, for thou ha&s;t created all things, and for thy plea&s;ure they are and were created, becau&s;e thy will is ful|filled, therefore we rejoyce and &s;et forth thy glory for ever,</HI> It vvas the very meat and drinke of our ble&s;&s;ed Savi|our all the while that he vvas in the World, to do his Fathers vvill, &s;ure he loved it &s;o much that he did no|thing el&s;e from his childhood to his death; and he that did &s;o much delight in it him&s;elfe, doth &s;o much like it in us, and &s;o highly e&s;teeme it, that for it he doth not onely vouch&s;a&s;e us the name of friends, but vve mu&s;t claime kinred with him, he hath &s;aid it him&s;elf, <HI>He that doth the will of my Father, he is my Bro|ther, and Si&s;ter, and Mother; Drexelius</HI> makes it to be the perfection of felicity, <HI>unicam in omnibus Dei volun|tatem, &amp;c.</HI> to be ob&s;ervant in all things to the vvill of God, is the compendium and &s;umme of a mo&s;t <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ap|py life; &s;ince then vve are to do the worke and vvill of &s;uch a Ma&s;ter, vvho&s;e &s;ervice is an happine&s;&s;e, vvho&s;e commands are not grievous, and delights not in bloody &s;acrificing of our &s;elves, but onely in a cheerfull obedience: O let us not be vvor&s;e then the Centurians &s;ervants, who when to one of them he &s;aith, <HI>go, he goeth; and to another come, he cometh, and to the third, do this, and he doth it.</HI></P>
<P>So much for the &s;econd thing to be con&s;idered, <HI>That we mu&s;t do the will of our heavenly Father.</HI> The third is, <HI>That we mu&s;t do it in this our day or opportunity of life, while it is day.</HI> Not moneths, not yeares, not ages, are to be expected, we have but a day for it, and no more,
<PB N="130" REF="74">
we may husband this &s;hort time to our be&s;t advan|tage, to day if we will heare his voice vve may, for this is the appointed time, this is the day of &s;al|vation, <HI>aut nunc aut nunquim,</HI> what we do we mu&s;t do now or never, up therefore and be doing, <HI>pre|&s;ens tempus operationis e&s;t futurum retributionis,</HI> &s;o &s;aith <HI>Nazianz<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">n,</HI> the pre&s;ent time is the time of vvorking, the time to come is the time of re&s;t, the lea&s;t neg|lect at this time is an everla&s;ting lo&s;&s;e and hin|derance to us; wee &s;hall never have againe the opportunity we now have, <HI>aliqua e&s;t rerum omnium re|cuperatio nulla temporis,</HI> &s;aith one, there may be &s;ome re|covering or&punc; repairing of any thing el&s;e that vve lo&s;e, none at all of time, our money, our honour, our health, may be re&s;tored again but our time is &s;o preti|ous, that if once lo&s;t, it is for ever lo&s;t. <HI>Lamachus,</HI> a Captaine, on a certaine time chid one of his Souldi|ers for committing a fault in the Field; the Souldier promi&s;ed him never to do &s;o againe, but he replies, <HI>in bello non licet bis peccare,</HI> good fellow thou mai&s;t not commit a fault twice in the Battell &s;ince that one fault is enough to lo&s;e all: It is our ca&s;e. <HI>Po&s;t e&s;t occa|&s;io calva,</HI> this opportunity being once lo&s;t, can never be recalled, this day being gone no man can vvorke&punc; there is a time vvhen the Virgins may enter in with the Bridegroome, there is al&s;o a time when the doore is &s;hut; there is a time when the poole of <HI>Bethe&s;da</HI> is troubled by the Angell, and there is al&s;o a time when it is not; <HI>vere poenitens de tempore nihil perait,</HI> &s;aith Saint <HI>Bernard,</HI> the true repentant Chri&s;tian omits no &s;ea&s;on|able time, becau&s;e he cannot tell when he &s;hall have another; the wi&s;e man bids thee go to the Pi&s;mire thou &s;luggard, &s;he ployes her time in the Harve&s;t, to provide again&s;t winter, this is the &s;ummer and har|ve&s;t for our &s;alvation.</P>
<LG>
<PB N="128" REF="74">
<L>Non e&s;tas ita &s;emper erit componite nidos.</L>
<L>The Summer that is now cannot long la&s;t,</L>
<L>O then provide before it be all pa&s;t.</L>
</LG>
<P>O let us provide, I &s;ay provide in time, <HI>Before</HI> (as <HI>Salomon</HI> &s;aith) <HI>the &s;ilver cord be loo&s;ed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the Pitcher broken at the <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ountaine, or the wheele broken at the Ci&s;terne;</HI> then &s;hall the du&s;t re|turne to the earth as it was, and the &s;pirit returne to God that gave it.</P>
<LG>
<L>Dum vires annique &s;inunt tollerate laborem,</L>
<L>Iam veniet tacito curva &s;enecta pede.</L>
</LG>
<P>It is here good to take the Poets advice, to worke whil&s;t we have &s;trength and vigour, whil&s;t we have marrow in our bones, and perfect health in our bo|dies; there is a night of old age too as well as of Death, and then no man can well worke; we mu&s;t con&s;ecrate the fir&s;t fruits of our age to Religion, and <HI>remember our Creator in the daies of our youth.</HI></P>
<LG>
<L>Non &s;emper vtolae non &s;emper lillia florent.</L>
<L>The Violets, and the &s;weete&s;t Lillies, they</L>
<L>Doe &s;oone put off their brave and rich aray.</L>
</LG>
<P>The flower and chiefe of our age will quickly fade, <HI>&s;o &s;oone pa&s;&s;eth it away and we are gone.</HI> Have we any bu&s;ine&s;&s;e of moment to be done, we will be &s;ure to be &s;tirring betimes about it; the worke of our &s;al|vation concerns us more then any work, then any bu&s;ines be&s;ides. O let us then be &s;tiriing betimes about this, early in the morning, I &s;ay the morning of our youth, which is the be&s;t time of working. <HI>Collige vir|go ro&s;as &amp; memor e&s;to aevum &s;ic properare tuum,</HI> O young man, gather the prime Ro&s;e of thy time while it is fre&s;h, for remember ere night the Sun will make it wither. <HI>Is there not a &s;ea&s;on &s;aith, the Wi&s;e man, and a time for every purpo&s;e under the Heaven? a time to be born, and a time to dye, &amp;c.</HI> Our words here an&s;wer him,
<PB N="132" REF="75">
There is a day to worke, and a night not to worke, a day for employment, and a night for re&s;t: The bu|&s;ie Bee is hot at her labour in the Sun&s;hine, whil&s;t lazie man lyes a&s;leep in the &s;hadow. O the fooli&s;h|ne&s;&s;e! O the madne&s;&s;e of man, to lo&s;e &s;o much time of &s;o little! How many excu&s;es do we make, rather then we will take the pains to go to Heaven? How many daies do we put off with a <HI>Cras, cras;</HI> to mor|row, to moroow, when wo is us many times the la&s;t &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">nd of our life is even now running out; this is our wont, commonly to procra&s;tinate from one day to another, from one moneth, from one yeare, from one time to another, till at la&s;t peradventure it be too late; the day &s;ure is farre &s;pent, and the night is at hand, let us take heed, it is great folly to &s;ay, We will live as we &s;hould to morrow, we mu&s;t live to day if we will be &s;ure to live at all; he that de&s;erreth the time of his working in this life, &s;hall not be able to deferre his puni&s;hment in the life to come; <HI>Et acerbis&s;ima e&s;t mora quae t<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> ahit penam,</HI> And that is a mo&s;t bitter delay (&s;aith St. <HI>Au&s;tine)</HI> which increa&s;eth our p<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">n<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">&s;hment; he that doth not prevent it bef<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">r<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> &s;hall repent it after when it is in vaine. In all other things <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">e do finde the danger of delaies, and we can take heed to prevent it: we will not lo&s;e a faire day in Harve&s;t, a pro&s;perous gale of wind to &s;et to Sea, an advantage to get preferment, and the like: See in eve|ry thing el&s;e we can be wi&s;e enough &s;ave only in this and this only unto &s;alvation. I &s;hall wi&s;h that for our &s;elves which <HI>Mo&s;es</HI> did for the Children of <HI>I&s;rael,</HI> Deut. 32. and the 29. Oh that we were truly wi&s;e, that we under&s;tood this, that we would con&s;ider our lat<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">er end; Oh that we would <HI>remember</HI> (with <HI>David) how &s;hort our time is,</HI> Oh that we would <HI>remember</HI> (with <HI>Sa<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters">mon) the end, and then we &s;hould not do ami&s;&s;e;</HI> Oh
<PB REF="75">
that we would duely con&s;ider with our Saviour here, that <HI>the night is at hand,</HI> we would doubtle&s;&s;e <HI>worke while it is day, becau&s;e the night commeth;</HI> which is he fourth Ob&s;ervation, and comes next to be thought on; for the night, the night of our death commeth, or is continually approaching; the night, a long night that &s;hall never have a morning.</P>
<LG>
<L>Soles occider<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> &amp; redire po&s;&s;unt,</L>
<L>Nobis cum &s;<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">mel occidit brevis lux,</L>
<L>Nox e&s;t perpe<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">uo u<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters"> dormierd<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">.</L>
</LG>
<P>The Sun &s;etteth and returnes againe, but man dy|eth, and where is he? <HI>He &s;hall not returne againe from the Grave, and his place</HI> (&s;aith Job) <HI>&s;ball know him no more:</HI> Oh, alas, no more for ever.</P>
<LG>
<L>From all our friends, our goods, and hou&s;es, we</L>
<L>By death mu&s;t part to all eternity&punc;</L>
<L>O woe is us that we mu&s;t needs away,</L>
<L>Ne're to come back no more, no more for aye.</L>
</LG>
<P>Never to &s;ee againe, be acquainted with, or &s;o much as to heare of any of the&s;e earthly things any more, with which many of us are now &s;o earne&s;tly and wholly taken up, as if there were no other thing or being to be thought on. O me, what pitty is it:</P>
<LG>
<L>That mo&s;t of us &s;o lavi&s;hly do &s;pend</L>
<L>Our daies, as if they never &s;hould have end:</L>
<L>Our thoughts with death we never care to try,</L>
<L>Till death it &s;elfe doth teach us how to dye.</L>
</LG>
<P>Till death &s;eize upon us, and the night be at hand wherein no man can work: for we mu&s;t be a&s;&s;ured that this long, this everla&s;ting night continually commeth on towards us, there is no e&s;caping of death; no <HI>Achitopbels</HI> policy is able to bribe or put off this faithfull Pur&s;evant of Heaven: we mu&s;t all, all away to our long home, and make our beds in the
<PB N="134" REF="76">
du&s;t. <HI>What man liveth and &s;hall not &s;ee death, or &s;hall de|liver his &s;oul from the hand of Hell? Omnes eadem &s;orte premimur,</HI> Mine, thine, his, and every ones Lot is ca&s;t, the houre and the minute of our lives is limi|ted; farre off it cannot be, for it commeth, or is comming, how &s;oon we cannot tell: Watch there|fore, even watch continually &s;ince yee know not the houre: <HI>Vitae &s;umma brevis &s;pem nos ve<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> at incboare longam.</HI> The whole &s;umme of our life is but &s;hort, how then can we expect death to be farre off. <HI>David</HI> calls our life <HI>a &s;hadow,</HI> Job <HI>a &s;moake,</HI> Salomon <HI>a Ship:</HI> In a Ship, &s;aith a Father, whether we &s;it or &s;tand we are alwaies carried towards the Haven; &s;o our life is ever moving towards death, no houre but the Sun goes We&s;tward, no moment but our age ha&s;tens to its end, to its long end, it will quickly come, the longe&s;t day hath his night; <HI>Methu&s;alem</HI> hath his <HI>mo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">|tuus e&s;t,</HI> and he dyed: I &s;ay, the longe&s;t day hath its night, and here it puts me in minde of that our Pro|verbiall &s;aying, All the life-long day, the day fitly expre&s;&s;ing our life, and our life a day; a day, only a &s;ummers day towards the evening the Sun &s;hines out mo&s;t bright and glorious, and loe pre&s;ently it is downe: &s;uch is the &s;hortne&s;&s;e and &s;udden departure of our life, that <HI>David</HI> in like manner hath mo&s;t aptly expre&s;&s;ed it by a tale; <HI>We bring our yeares</HI> (&s;aith he) <HI>to an end even as it were a tale that is told;</HI> for when it goes plea&s;antly on, and we expect to heare more of it, be|fore we are aware on't it is ended: thus as it were, <HI>In the mid&s;t of life we are in death, and are cut away like the flower which fadeth in a moment; verily therefore all fle&s;h is Gra&s;&s;e, and the glory thereof but as the flower of the field:</HI> and yet &s;uch is mo&s;t times our folly, &s;o to build up our thoughts here upon Earth as if we had an Eternity to live for ever; whereas do but we duely
<PB N="135" REF="76">
con&s;ider it, every day that goes over our heads bids us be in readine&s;&s;e for death, gives a &s;ufficent <HI>Item</HI> of Mortality:</P>
<P><HI>Immortalia ne&s;peres monetannus &amp; almain &amp;c.</HI> So ma|ny daies, &s;o many moneths, &s;o many yeares pa&s;t and gone, &s;o many pa&s;&s;ing Bells, &s;o many Funerals cele|brated before our eyes mu&s;t needs forbid us to expect a long time. Saint <HI>Chry&s;o&s;tome</HI> &s;aith, That nothing hath deceived men &s;o much as the vaine hope of a long life; who knoweth the Sun may &s;et at the mor|ning of our life. or at noone; if at neither of the&s;e yet be &s;ure the Evening commeth, and then it will &s;et. The Lord bids <HI>Mo&s;es</HI> in the 19. Chapter of Exodus, <HI>To prepare the people again&s;t the third day,</HI> al|though we pa&s;&s;e over the fir&s;t day our youth, and the &s;econd day our middle age, yet at furthe&s;t we mu&s;t be ready again&s;t the third day our old age: the fir&s;t or the &s;econd day may be our la&s;t, the third day mu&s;t needs be our la&s;t: and therefore &s;aith <HI>Seneca, Om|nis dies &s;icut ultima e&s;t ordinanda:</HI> Every day ought &s;o to be ordered as if we &s;hould not live a day longer. Me thinkes Saint <HI>Au&s;tines</HI> experience &s;hould be a &s;ufficient warning to us, for &s;aith he, <HI>Experti &s;umus multos 'expira&s;&s;e expectantes reconciliari:</HI> We have &s;eene many to have been cut off, whil&s;t they have but begun to make their reconciliation with God. too too many alas there be who&s;e Sun hath &s;et ere they thought it to be their Mid-day. Let us take heed that death &s;teale not on us as a thiefe in the night; <HI>Lucius Cae&s;ar</HI> dyed in the morning putting on his Cloathes, <HI>Alphon&s;us</HI> a young man dyed as he was riding on his Hor&s;e: We need not &s;eeke after forraigne Examples, there be too many of the &s;ame nature at home with us. How many have we &s;eene before our eyes, &s;ome to be &s;nacht from their plea&s;ures, &s;ome from their &s;innes, &s;ome from their worldly employments;
<PB N="136" REF="77">
whereas they have made their accounts of many years to come, &s;o true is that of the Poet:</P>
<LG>
<L>Nemo tam divos habuit faventes,</L>
<L>Cra&s;tinum ut pos&s;it polliceri diem.</L>
<L>The Gods no man did ere &s;uch favour give,</L>
<L>That he was &s;ure another day to live.</L>
</LG>
<P>There is no certainty of this life not for a d<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">y, not for an houre, no not &s;o much as for a moment; God hath many means to take us away even in an in&s;tant, as we go up and downe, as we &s;leep, as we do but draw our breath, any how; good is it therefore that we have a <HI>Memento mori</HI> alwaies, at all times hanging over our heads, like that Sword in the Story which hung by a Hor&s;e haire over the head of him that &s;ate at Fea&s;t, putting us in a due feare and warning of the continuall danger that we are in; I &s;ay alwaies hang|ing over our heads, and &s;o imprinted in our thoughts that we may &s;eriou&s;ly remember how &s;hort our time is, how &s;oone our night commeth; It is <HI>Platoes</HI> Opi|nion, That a wi&s;e mans life is nothing but a conti|nuall thinging or meditating upon death, <HI>Philip</HI> King of <HI>Macedonia</HI> had his Page three times every morning to tell him, <HI>Philip, remember that thou art a man, that thou art mortall, that th<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">u mu&s;t dye.</HI> O excellent <HI>Me|mento,</HI> and mo&s;t worthy to be imitated; the Empe|rour of <HI>Con&s;tantinople</HI> was wont &s;itting in his Roy|all Throne to have a Ma&s;on come to him with his Tooles in his hand, asking, What kind of &s;tone he would have his Tombe made of; intimating, that he &s;hould not forget how &s;oone all that his Royall pompe might be buried in the Grave.</P>
<LG>
<L><HI>And here me thinks I cannot but repeat,</HI></L>
<L><HI>The famous Act of</HI> Saladine <HI>the great.</HI></L>
</LG>
<P>Who amid&s;t his noble Victories, and conquering Triumphs, had &s;o much minde of his death, and the
<PB N="137" REF="77">
true end of all earthly glory, that he appointed his winding &s;hee<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> to be carried upon a Speare before him at his Funerall thorough out the City, proclai|ming thus his intention of minde.</P>
<LG>
<L>All the&s;e my Riches, glorious Pompe and Traine,</L>
<L>When D<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="2 letters">th is come they are to me in vaine:</L>
<L>This Winding &s;heet is all that I &s;hall have</L>
<L>Along with me, to carry to the Grave.</L>
</LG>
<P>The good Father was &s;o mindfull of Mortality, that he had alwaies ringing in his eares, <HI>Surgite mor|tui &amp; venite ad judicium,</HI> Ri&s;e yee dead and come to Judgement, to the end he might husband his time; &s;o worke in this day of his life here, that he might not be found an unprofitable Servant when his night came. <HI>Iohannes Godfridus</HI> had the&s;e words en|graven in Gold; <HI>Every day I &s;tand at the doore of Eternity.</HI> And in divers parts of his Hou&s;e he had &s;et up the bones and Sculls of dead men, that &s;o his eyes if it were po&s;&s;ible might have no other Object to behold then of mortality. Sure there are no thoughts doe more concerne us Mortalls then tho&s;e of Death; O then, <HI>Teach us &s;o Lord to number our daies that wa may apply our hearts unto wi&s;edom,</HI> that our &s;ouls may &s;o wi&s;ely e&s;teeme the &s;hortne&s;&s;e of this life, that we may never forget this; this I &s;ay, in the Field, in our Journey, in our Beds, at all times, and every where, while it is day, whil&s;t we live; that the night, that is, our death commeth, and then no man can work; which is the la&s;t ob&s;erveable thing, and the effect of the night. <HI>No man can worke. Man goeth forth to his worke and to his labour untill the Evening.</HI> Vntill the evening, no longer; we have done in this life what&s;oever we &s;hall doe. <HI>Mors ultima linia rerum.</HI> Death is the full period of all our Actions, there remaines now no more teares of Repentance, no more works of Piety,
<PB N="124" REF="78">
no more &s;acrifice for &s;inne, no more, I &s;ay, no more for ever: Phi&s;ick comes too late when the party is decea&s;ed. <HI>Actum e&s;t,</HI> we have acted<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">our parts here whil&s;t we were in this life, all now is done, the &s;cene is ended. <HI>Remember my Sonne, that thou in thy life time receivea&s;t thy good things,</HI> that thou had&s;t then the opportunity to have made thy &s;elfe happy for ever if thou would&s;t: but what can&s;t thou now give to redeeme thy &s;oul, when in&s;tead of good workes thou ha&s;t nothing but paine and torment, in&s;tead of the godly &s;orrow of repentance, nothing but the Helli&s;h &s;orrow of de&s;paire. Oh how many millions of years would the mi&s;erable &s;oul be glad to work the harde&s;t work that might be invented, if it were but po&s;&s;ible for her to work out her &s;alvation; O how precious would &s;he e&s;teeme tho&s;e minutes, and gather up tho&s;e crummes of time which &s;he hath here &s;o fooli&s;hly neglected: and thus me thinks that lamentable voice of the untimely departed &s;oul doth &s;ound this war|ning peale in our eares&punc;</P>
<LG>
<L>All yee that live, by me learne to be wi&s;e,</L>
<L>Your precious time at higher worth to prize:</L>
<L>For <GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">oe alas, my time was pa&s;t &s;o &s;oone,</L>
<L>That night was come ere that I thought it noone.</L>
</LG>
<P>And now too late unhappy wretch Idearly lament my headle&s;&s;e f<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">lly; <HI>Spes omnium in bot or be mole&s;tiarum e&s;t admirabile lenimentum.</HI> Hope &s;aith <HI>Drexelius,</HI> is an excellent refre&s;hing, and comfort in all the troubles of this life; as long as there is &s;ome hope there is &s;ome comfort, and be our mi&s;eries never &s;o great, we are here in po&s;&s;ibility to have ea&s;e of them: but after death there is not the lea&s;t po&s;&s;ibility, hope, or com|fort a<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> all to be expected, the Doome is pa&s;t, no man can work, all the world is not able to purcha&s;e one drop of ea&s;e or refre&s;hing any more. O that it is too
<PB N="121" REF="78">
late, too late, too late to cry for mercy; O that the doore is &s;hut and there is no entering in. Give me &s;aith one, a River of teares to weep before I dye: well might he wi&s;h it, for he knew there was no weeping to any purpo&s;e when he was dead.</P>
<LG>
<L>O let me weep, weep, weep, and ne're give o're</L>
<L>My &s;ins, till I have wa&s;hed cleane away:</L>
<L>O let me never cea&s;e for to implore</L>
<L>My Iudge, till I come to the Iudgement Day.</L>
</LG>
<P>O let us repent now, for we cannot repent in that day, if ever we meane to doe our &s;elves good, now is the time, becau&s;e we cannot worke when the night is come: Let us therefore worke while it is day, while we have time, while we may vvork: <HI>Ob&s;ecro vos, O Chri&s;tiant per vos perquae &s;alutem ve&s;tram, &amp;c.</HI> as <HI>Drexelius</HI> be&s;pake his Auditers, &s;o let me be&s;peake our &s;oules and &s;elves. O yee Chri&s;tian &s;oules, yee &s;ouls vvhom Chri&s;t hath dyed for; let me be&s;eech you for your ovvne &s;ake, for your &s;alvations &s;ake, for your Saviours &s;ake that yee vvould avoid this Ship|wrack, the danger is certain, if we looke not to it in time; as long as life la&s;ts our amendment is not too late: doe we fall by &s;in a thou&s;and times, we may ri&s;e againe by repentance a thou&s;and times: We may be|gin any day, any houre to become better; <HI>But in death no man remembreth thee, O Lord, and who can give thee thankes in the Grave.</HI> As <HI>David</HI> did concerning <HI>Bath|&s;heba's</HI> Child, &s;o whil&s;t life is in us we may weepe, and humble our &s;elves by repentance, but in death all hope, all po&s;&s;ibility of recovery is cut off. Whil&s;t we have therefore time let us make u&s;e of it; I &s;ay, let us take it whil&s;t we have it, for time will &s;tay for no man: it is but a while that we have to worke, one daies labour will make us happy forever, our Fathers have had their daies and are gone, and now this is our day. I &s;ay, ours, if we lo&s;e it not; our day and
<PB N="140" REF="79">
portion of time which God hath allotted us <HI>to work<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter"> out our &s;alvation</HI> in. Woe is us then if we work not even <HI>triplox vae,</HI> an woe, and an Eternall woe. We vvould faine depart and be in Heaven, O let us do our taske whil&s;t we are on earth. To conclude, let not the Sun &s;et upon our wrath, upon our lu&s;t, upon our covetuou&s;ne&s;&s;e, upon our pride, and the like; alas, what a di&s;mall: what a dolefull night mu&s;t we then expect: Let us not be wearv of well doing, for in due &s;ea&s;on we &s;hall reape, if we &s;aint not, let us now go on in our way towards Heaven weeping, and we &s;hall returne with &s;heaves in our bo&s;ome, let us &s;o we in teares, and we &s;hall reape in joy; let us be found &s;o working now in this day of our life, that at the night of our death, when our Lord and Ma&s;ter Chri&s;t Je&s;us cometh, we may partake of that ble&s;&s;edne&s;&s;e which is promi&s;ed in the Go&s;pel to that Servant, <HI>who when his Ma&s;ter commeth he &s;ball finde &s;o doing,</HI> &s;o &s;hall we receive that <HI>e<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">ge boni &s;ervi, Well done yee good and faithfull &s;ervants, enter you therefore into your Ma&s;ters joy. Amen.</HI></P>
</DIV2>
<CLOSER>Sit gloria Deo in &s;aecula &s;aeculorum.</CLOSER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="to the reader">
<HEAD>A farewell to the Reader.</HEAD>
<P>ANd now kind Reader, thanking you for your patience, that hath vouch&s;afed to peru&s;e over this my unworthy labour, I de&s;ire you to un|der&s;tand.</P>
<LG>
<L>Each mans a little world, and my Booke</L>
<L>A Land-Skip is, this world to overlooke:</L>
<L>There may you ken the Cedar tops of pride,</L>
<L>With thorny cares, and buskets on each &s;ide.</L>
<L>The fruits of grace there al&s;o may you &s;ee</L>
<L>Like Apples, ju&s;t as they grow on the tree.</L>
<L><PB N="141" REF="79">
And then again a River meets your eye</L>
<L>Of tears for &s;in, and mans &s;ad mi&s;ery:</L>
<L>Mountains of Zeal do here and there &s;well up,</L>
<L>Even to the Clouds, but 'tis enough. I &s;top.</L>
</LG>
<P>Not pre&s;uming to borrow your patience any lon|ger, or trouble you with many things, only I &s;hall intreate you to take this <HI>unum nece&s;&s;ar<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">um,</HI> this one ne|ce&s;&s;ary thing along with you, and well to ob&s;erve it, that the way of the Lord may be thus trackt out in the &s;oul of man. Fir&s;t the &s;ight of Gods being &s;eri|ou&s;ly apprehended, &s;trikes into us a reverend feare of his infinite greatne&s;&s;e, this feare ca&s;teth us downe be|fore him into a condemning humility of our &s;infull wre<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="apex" EXTENT="1 letter">chedne&s;&s;e, this humility breedeth an admiring love of the abundance of his mercy towards us in his ble&s;&s;ings, this love maketh us bold to have tru&s;t and relyance on him, as our help and defence; this tru&s;t affordeth patience to hold out and endure in all diffi|culties what&s;oever, this patience at length crowneth us with hope of Heaven; not a fooli&s;h hope built on the &s;and, but a &s;trong hope &s;etled with di&s;cretion, a hope built on &s;uch ground which maketh not a&s;ha|med: not a&s;hamed in life, not a&s;hamed in death, not a&s;hamed in the day of Iudgement: This hope, O Lord, grant unto you, to me, and to us all, and &s;o pre&s;erve it in us, for thy mercies &s;ake, that it may end at la&s;t in the perfect fruition of thine eternall King|dome, there that we may be together for ever, untill which mo&s;t happytime, dearly beloved, I heartily bid you farewell, <HI>in longum valete,</HI> farewell, even a long farewell.</P>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="imprimatur">
<P>Imprimatur, John Downham.</P>
<P><HI>17.</HI> Febr. <HI>1645.</HI></P>
</DIV1>
<DIV1 TYPE="errata">
<PB REF="80">
<PB REF="80">
<HEAD>ERRATA.</HEAD>
<P>REad mo&s;t frequently thru&s;t. page 10. line 1. the two fir&s;t lines p. 17. are to be read as ver&s;es, for holy &s;eam, r. holy &s;tem. p. 18. l. 10. for his liberality, r. this liberality, p. 30. l. 3. for the lea&s;t of which is, many of which are. p. 30 l. 27. for who giveth us, gives us, p. 31. l. 15. for minde, wind, p. 44. l. 16. for honour, humour. p. 62. l. 31. for &s;hall he, &s;hall we, p. 64. l. 13. for not as yet, as yet, p. 82. l. 18. for outward &s;ouls, untoward &s;ouls, p. 85. l. 13. for we can, can we, p. 104. l. 24. for are not a little offended, doe not a little offend, 105. l. 26. and l. 29. for even, ever. for Devil the Devill. p. 112. l. 24. For the le&s;&s;er faults I de&s;ire your favourable con&s;truction.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
