MISCELANEA.Meditatio …




By Elizabeth Grymeston.

Non est rectum, quod à Deo non est directum.

LONDON, Printed by Melch. Bradwood for Felix Norton. 1604.

The Contents.

  • 1 A short line, how to leuell your life.
  • 2 A mortified mans melancholie.
  • 3 A patheticall speech in the person of Diues in the torments of hell.
  • 4 Who liues most honestly, will die most willingly.
  • 5 A sinners Glasse.
  • 6 The vnion of Mercie and Iustice.
  • 7 No greater crosse than to liue without a crosse.
  • 8 That feare to die, is the effect of an euill life.
  • 9 That affliction is the cost of a true Chri­stian.
  • 10 A theme to thinke on.
  • 11 Morning meditation, with sixteene sobs of a sorowfull spirit.
  • 12 A Madregall.
  • 13 Euening meditation.
  • 14 Memoratiues.

To her louing sonne Bernye Grymeston.

MY dearest sonne, there is nothing so strong as the force of loue; there is no loue so forcible as the loue of an affecti­onate mother to hir naturall childe: there is no mother can either more affe­ctionately shew hir nature, or more naturally manifest hir affection, than in aduising hir children out of hir owne ex­perience, to eschue euill, and encline them to do that which is good. Out of these resolutions, finding the libertie of this age to be such, as that quicquid libet licet, so men keepe themselues from criminall offences; and my mothers vndeserued wrath so virulent, as that I haue neither pow­er to resist it, nor patience to endure it, but must yeeld to this languishing consumption to which it hath brougt me: I resolued to breake the barren soile of my fruitlesse braine, to dictate something for thy direction; the rather for that as I am now a dead woman among the liuing, so stand I doubtfull of thy fathers life; which albeit God hath pre­serued from eight seuerall sinister assaults, by which it hath beene sought; yet for that I see that Quem saepè transit casus, aliquando inuenit, I leaue thee this por­table veni mecum for thy Counseller, in which thou maiest [Page] [...]ee the true portrature of thy mothers minde, and finde something either to resolue thee in thy doubts, or comfort thee in thy distresse; hoping, that being my last speeches, they will be better kept in the conseruance of thy memorie; which I desire thou wilt make a Register of heauenly me­ditations.

For albeit, if thou prouest learned (as my trust is thou wilt; for that without learning man is but as an immor­tall beast) thou maiest happily thinke that if euery Philo­sopher fetched his sentence, these leaues would be left without lines; yet remember withall, that as it is the best coine that is of greatest value in fewest pieces, so is it not the worst booke that hath most matter in least words.

The grauest wits, that most graue works expect,
The qualitie, not quantitie, respect.

And the spiders webbe is neither the better because wouen out of his owne brest, nor the bees hony the worse, for that gathered out of many flowers; neither could I euer brooke to set downe that haltingly in my broken stile, which I found better expressed by a grauer authour.

God send thee too, to be a wits Camelion,
That any authours colour can put on.

I haue prayed for thee, that thou mightest be fortunate in two houres of thy life time: In the houre of thy mari­age, and at the houre of thy death. Marrie in thine owne ranke, and seeke especially in it thy contentment and pre­ferment: let her neither be so beautifull, as that euery li­king eye shall leuell at her; nor yet so browne, as to bring thee to a loathed bed. Deferre not thy marriage till thou commest to be saluted with a God speed you Sir, as a man going out of the world after sortie; neither yet to the [Page] time of God keepe you Sir, whilest thou art in thy best strength after thirtie; but marrie in the time of You are welcome Sir, when thou art comming into the world. For seldome shalt thou see a woman out of hir owne loue to pull a rose that is full blowen, deeming them alwaies swee­test at the first opening of the budde. It was Phoedra hir confession to Hippolitus, and it holdes for trueth with the most: Thesei vultus amo illos priores quos tulit quon­dam iuuenis. Let thy life be formall, that thy death may be fortunate: for he seldome d [...]es well that liueth ill. To this purpose, as thou hast within thee Reason as thy Coun­seller to perswade or disswade thee, and thy Will as an ab­solute Prince with a Fiat vel Euitetur, with a Let it be done or neglected; yet make thy conscience thy Censor­morum, and chiefe commander in thy little world: let it call Reason to account whether she haue subiected hir selfe against reason to sensuall appetites. Let thy Will be cen­sured, whether hir desires haue beene chaste, or as a harlot she haue lusted after hir owne delights. Let thy thoughts be examined. If they be good, they are of the spirit (quench not the spirit) if bad, forbid them entrance; for once ad­mitted, they straight waies fortifie; and are expelled with more difficultie, than not admitted.

Crush the serpent in the head,
Breake ill egges yer they be hatched.
Kill bad chickens in the tread,
Fledge they hardly can be catched.
In the rising stifle ill,
Lest it grow against thy will.

For euill thoughts are the Diuels harbingers; he neuer resteth, but where they prouide his entertainment. Thes [...] [Page] [...]re those little ones whose braines thou must dash out a­gainst the rocke of true iudgement: for

As a false Louer that thicke snares hath laied,
T'intrap the honour of a faire yoong maid,
When she (though little) listning eare affoords
To his sweet, courting, deepe affected words,
Feeles some asswaging of his freezing flame,
And sooths himselfe with hope to gain his game,
And rapt with ioy, vpon this point persists,
That parleing citie neuer long resists:
Euen so the serpent that doth counterfet
A guilefull call t'allure vs to his net,
Perceiuing vs his flattering gloze disgest,
He prosecutes, and iocund doth not rest,
Till he haue tri'd foot, hand, and head, and all,
Vpon the breach of this new battered wall.

I could be content to dwell with thee in this agrument: but I must confine my selfe to the limits of an epistle, Quae non debet implere sinistram manum. To which rule I doe the more willingly submit my selfe, for that the dis­courses following are motiues to the same effect: which I pray thee vse to peruse, euen in that my affectionate loue, which diffused amongst nine children which God did lend me, is now vnited in thee, whom God hath onely left for my comfort. And because God hath indued thee with so vio­lent a spirit, as that quicquid vis valde vis; therefore by so much the more it behoueth thee to deliberate what thou vndertakest: to which purpose my desire is, that thou mightest be seasoned with these precepts in thy youth, that the practise of thy age may haue a taste of them. And be­cause that it is incident to quicke spirits to commit rash at­tempts: [Page] as euer the loue of a mother may challenge the performance of her demand of a dutifull childe; be a bridle to thy selfe, to restraine thee from doing that which indeed thou maiest doe: that thou maiest the better forbeare that which in trueth thou oughtest not to doe, for haud citò progreditur ad maiora peccata, qui parua reformidat; hee seldomest commits deadly sinne, that makes a consci­ence of a veniall scandall.

Thou seest my loue hath carried me beyond the list I resolued on, and my aking head and trembling hand haue rather a will to offer, than abilitie to affoord further dis­course. Wherefore with as many good wishes to thee, as good will can measure, I abruptly end, desiring God to blesse thee with sorrow for thy sinnes, thankefulnesse for his benefits, feare of his iudgements, loue of his mercies, mindfulnesse of his presence; that li­uing in his feare, thou maiest die in his fauour, rest in his peace, rise in his power, remaine in his glorie for euer and euer.

Thine assured louing mother Elizabeth Grymeston.

SIMON GRAHAME to the Authour.

GOe famous thou, with euer flying fame,
That mak'st thy flight on Vertues wings to sore,
In worlds of hearts goe labyrinth thy name,
That wonders selfe may wondrous thee adore.
Though th'authours selfe triumph in heauenly glore,
Thou sacred worke giu'st mortall life againe;
And so thy worth hath made her euermore
In heauen and earth for euer to remaine.
Hir pondrous speech, hir passion and hir paine,
Hir pleasing stile shall be admir'd ilke where.
The fruitfull flowing of hir loftie braine
Doth now bewray a mothers matchlesse care,
While she liues crown'd amongst the high diuines,
Thou on hir sonne celestiall sunne downe shines.
‘Tota vita dies vnus.’

CHAP. I. A short line how to leuell your life.

WHen thou risest, let thy thoughts ascend, that grace may descend: and if thou canst not weepe for thy sinnes, then weepe, because thou canst not weepe.

Remember that Prayer is the wing wherewith thy soule flieth to heauen; and Meditation the eye wherewith we see God; and Repentance the Supersedea [...] that dischargeth all bond of sinne.

Let thy sacrifice be an innocent heart: offer it dayly a [...] set houres, with that deuotion that well it may shew, thou both knowest and acknowledgest his greatnesse before whom thou art. So carrie thy selfe as woorthie of his pre­sence.

Where thou owest, pay duetie: where thou findest, re­turne curtesie: where thou art knowen, deserue loue. De­sire the best: disdaine none, but euill companie. Grieue but be not angrie at discourtesies. Redresse, but reuenge no wrongs. Yet so remember pitie, as you forget not de­cencie.

Let your attire be such, as may satisfie a curious eye; and yet beare witnesse of a sober minde.

Arme your selfe with that modestie, that may silenc [...] [Page] that vntemperate tongue, and controll that vnchaste eye, [...]hat shall aime at passion.

Be mindfull of things past; Carefull of things present; Prouident of things to come.

Goe as you would be met.
Sir as you would be found.

Speake as you would be heard: And when you goe to bed, read ouer the carriage of your selfe that day. Reforme that is amisse; and giue God thanks for that which is order­ly: and so commit thy selfe to him that keepes thee.

Teach me O Lord to number my daies, and to order my life after this thy direction.

CHAP. II. Amortified mans melancholy expressed in the person of Heraclitus, who alwaies wept.

LEt him that laughes come weepe with me: for that which mirth neglects, teares doe learne: It is the afflicted minde that is the touchstone of faults committed: and the guilt which securitie ouerseeth, a troubled minde doth soone discouer.

A dolefull case desires a dolefull song
Without vaine Art or curious complement;
And squallid fortune into basenesse flung
Doth scorne the pride of woonted ornament.

Be sorie that thou canst not sorrow; thou that art begot in filthinesse, nourished in darknesse, brought foorth in pangs of death; thou whose infancie is a dreame; whose youth a frensie; whose manhood a combate; whose age a sicknesse; whose life miserie; whose death horror.

[Page]Thinke, ô thinke, and bethinke thy selfe, from whence thou camest, where thou art, and whither thou goest, for thou art here in an obscure land, gouerned by the prince of darkenesse, where vice is aduaunced, vertue scorned, where pleasures are few, paines infinite: where want is mi­serable, plenty full of perill: in a vale of teares, enuironed or all sides with vnplacable aduersaries: where if thou sub­due lust, couetousnesse assaults thee; if couetousnesse be vanquished, ambition will second hir; if ambition be sur­prised, anger succeeds: in a world of mischiefe, where enuy breaketh peace, iealousie sundreth friendship.

A wretched world, the den of wretchednesse.
Deform'd with silth and foule iniquitie,
A wretched world, the house of heauinesse,
Fild with the wreaks of mortall miserie.
O wretched world, and all that is therein,
The vassals of Gods wrath, and slaues to sinne.

Thou hast a silly, poore, yet powerfull soule, a soule of no­ble substance, of exceeding beautie, inspired by God the Father; redeemed by God the Sonne; sanctified by God the holy Ghost: this is the careful charge committed to thy charge to keepe hir. Where wilt thou finde security for hir,

Which did in former time Gods image beare?
And was at first, faire, good, and spotlesse pure.
But since with sinnes hir beauties blotted weare,
Doth of all sights hir owne sight least indure.

But now exiled from hir-selfe, and as a widow depriued of hir espoused fellowship, committed to thy safe conduct where wilt thou secure hir? in heauen the angels fell in God [...] presence: in paradice Adam fell from a place of pleasure in the world Iudas fell in the schoole of Christ: and if tho [...] sufferest hir to fall, the fals to eternall perdition, for th [...] sword of Gods iustice hangeth alwaies ouer our soules rea [...]die for our sinnes to diuide vs from eternall blisse.

Since haruest neuer failes, but euer must,
Be torturd with the racke of his owne frame:
[Page]For he that holds no faith, shall finde no trust,
But sowing wrong, is sure to reape Gods blame.

Let the foore of him that sits vpon the rainbow be thy arke of securitie in this deluge of miseries; be not like the vncleane Crow, that can finde footing on euery carion, with little care to returne againe: but rather imitate the in­nocent Doue, that lothing abode without this arke, can finde no rest; and with the wings of a longing desire and penitent heart, flicker at the window of this arke, till thy heauenly Noah put out his mercifull hand to take thee in.

For when the soule sindes here no true content,
And like Noahs Doue can no sure footing take:
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flies to him that first hir wings did make.

Let hir not drinke of the fluds of the vanities of this life, but as the dogs doe of the riuer Nilus, that drinke running, least while they stay to take a full draught, they be stung with scorpions: for she liues in thy bodie no otherwise than as a lazar on his death bed, vncertaine of life, but in appa­rent danger of endlesse death; within she makes her solace full of sadnesse: hir hope full of hazard, and all hir waies strowed with Coccatrice egges, faire without, and foule within, make hir carefull of hir steps. Thou hast the exam­ple of Christ: which way wilt thou goe? he is the Way: whither wilt thou goe? he is the Trueth: where wilt thou stay? he is the Life. If this Way lead thee thorow austere passages; if this Trueth teach thee true contrition: if this Life be not atchieued but with a dolefull pil­grimage; for where doest thou reade that Christ laughed? then Woe be to you that laugh, for you shall mourne: and hap­py are you that lament, for you shall be comforted.

CHAP. III. A patheticall speech of the person of Diues in the tor­ments of hell.

O Death, how sudden was thy arrest vnto me? how vnexpected? while my bodie was strong, while my intrals were full of fat, and my bones were watered with marrow; while I had rest in my substance, and peace in my riches; in one night my soule was ta­ken from me, and all my joy was turned into mourning.

Like as the sacred one that carelesse stands,
With gilded hornes, and slowrie garlands crownd,
Proud of his dying honour and deare bands,
Whilst theaters fume with frankensence around:
All suddenly with mortall blow astond,
Doth groueling fall, and with his steeming gore,
Distaine the pillars and the holy ground,
And the faire flowers that decked him afore,
So downe I fell on wordlesse precious shore.

I saw my friends forsake me in a moment: I felt how hard a thing it was to seuer two such old acquaintances as my soule and bodie: I wanted no view of the vanities wherein I had delighted. On the one side hung a register of my sinnes committed; on the other side lay a catalogue of good deeds omitted: within me boiled my conscience con­fessing and accusing me: Before me stood the iudgements of God denounced against sinne so mustered in ranke, as I might well perceiue my dangers were certaine, and de­struction imminent. In this extasie while I desired but one houres delay, I was caried with a motion Torrenti simili, as swift as the torrent before the tribunall seat of God.

Vnder whose feet, subiected to his grace,
Sat Nature, Fortune, Motion, Tyme and Place.

[Page]To this tribunall seate attended me my euill works, where Christ shewing himselfe, laid open vnto me the be­nefits he had bestowed vpon me, the rewards he promised me, the torments he suffred for me; all which the diuell confessing, concluded me to be his; for that though he neuer loued me', yet I serued him, though hee neuer gra­tified me, yet I obeied him, without wooing he wan me, performing what he suggested, embracing what he pre­ferred, affecting euerie thing he cast in my way, all which my conscience acknowledging, censured me to this bot­tomlesse depth, to this profound lake, to this sinke of the world, whither all the afflictions and vnpleasant things in the world draine and vnite themselues to take reuenge of sinne.

A deadly gulfe where nought but rubbish growes,
Which vp on th' aire such stinking vapour throwes,
That ouer there may flie no bird but dies,
Chok't with the pestilent sauours that arise.

To this Chaos of confusion, to this Well of perdition wherein I am coarcted, to this burning lake of fire and brimstone wherein I lie burning, but not consuming; la­menting, but not pitied; where vomit out the riches which I deuoured; in paine, without ease; in torture with­out intermission; where my lasciuious eies are afflicted with most vgly and fearefull sights of griesely diuels; my eares that once were delicate, are laden now with the hide­ous noise of damned spirits; my nose that once was daintie, is cloied with the stinke of vnsupportable filth; my taste that sometimes was curious, and surfeited with plentie, is now tormented with want; my imagination is vexed with apprehension of paines present; my memory grieued with the losse of pleasures past; my vnderstanding affected with the consideration of felicitie lost, and miserie found. Thus comparing senses pleasure with incumbent ioy, I finde my ioies abortiue, perisht ere they bud, my paines euerlasting, during beyond eternitie.

Your fond preferments are but childrens toyes.
And as a shadow all your pleasures passe.
As yeeres increase, so wauing are your ioyes.
Your blesse is brittle, like a broken glasse,
Or as a tale of that which neuer was.

Wherefore as one past cure, deiected beyond hope of redemption into endlesse perdition, rather condoling my misfortune, than expostulating my mishap whereof my selfe was authour, I call to you, the glory of your age, the meat of time, who proud in your errours, tread the path of worldly pleasures, wherein I was impathed: Frustra, ô fru­stra haec aliò properanti.

What in this life we haue or can desire,
Hath time of growth, and moment of retire.
So feeble is mans state as sure it will not stand,
Till it disordered be from earthly band.

It was a condition annexed to our Creation: Intrasti v [...] ­exires, thou wert borne to die. Nothing more sure than thy dissolution: no time more vncertaine than thy time of sepa­ration. Be alwaies readie to preuent that enemie, that is al­waies in readinesse to take aduantage. Qui non vult in vit [...] prouidere mortem, non potest in morte videre vitam. Who while he liues will not preuent eternall death, shall neue [...] after death inherit eternall life

Let euery one do all the good he can:
For neuer commeth ill of doing well.
Though iust reward it wants here now and than,
Yet shame and euill death it doth expell.
Miser chi maloprando, si confida,
Ch'ogn' hor star debba in maleficio occulto:
Che quand'ogn' altro taccia intorne grida,
L'aria la terra e'l luggo in ch'e sepolto.
Edio sa spesso ch'il peccato grida
Il peccator, poi ch'alcun di gli ha indulto,
Che se medesimo, seuza altruj rechiesta,
Inauedutamente manifesta.
[Page]Wretched is he that thinks by doing ill,
His euill deeds long to conceale and hide:
For though the voice and tongues of men be still,
By fowles and beasts his sin shalbe descride.
And God oft worketh by his secret will,
That sinne it selfe the sinner so doth guide,
That of his owne accord, without request,
He makes his wicked doings manifest.
Shame followes sinne neuer so closely done:
Shame alwayes ends, what wickenesse begun.

Hoc est momentum temporis vnde pendet aeternitas. The carriage of thy selfe in this life, is the beame whereof thy welfare for euer dependeth. Deferre not thy amendment:

God is best when soonest wrought,
Lingring thoughts do come to nought.
O suffer not delay to steale the treasure of that day,
Whose smallest minute lost, no riches render may.

Turpe est eo statu viuere, in quo non statuas mori. In vaine thou liuest in that estate of life, in which thoue meanest not to die. Make, ô make your saluation sure vnto you by good works. Encline your heart to doe good: for the reward thereof is infinite: for he is comming and commeth quick­ly, and brings his reward with him, to distribute to euerie one as he hath deserued, euen according to his workes. Omission and commission brought my confusion.

Cautior exemplo tu. Let my example prouoke you to de­test that wherein I tooke delight, lest you also come hither to be tormented not onely with oppression of eternall pu­nishment, but with omission of euerlasting ioyes, which I admire now, carendo non fruendo: which if I might redeeme by suffering all the torments that either tyrants haue inuen­ted, or martyrs suffered; if with my tongue I might licke out the print of my feet out of the way of sinners; if with teares of blood and water I might purge my vncleannesse to worke my redemption: Ecce Domine paratum aegrum habe­res in omnem medicinam. Beholde, ô Lord, thou shouldest [Page] haue a patient fit for any cure. I would wring my drained eyes, vt facilè sentires paratum ad omne supplicium ipsum ha­bitum orantis Christiani. But since my glasse is run, and my sun set; since death hath ouershadowed me, and that there is no pleading after sentence; since that serò ducit suspiria, qui ron expectat remedum: since my affecting what I should haue desired, is turned into a feeling of that I lost; quia ex infer no nulla redemptio, quia poenarum nullus sinis, suppliciorun nulla defectio; because there is no end for my hell, nor sa­tisfaction for my punishment: Therefore to you I call, to you that carelesse liue, that feele not with what sense speake. Consider, Whence you came, Where you are, and Whither you go. You are parts of that God that created all things for you, and you for himselfe. You liue on the stage of the earth, Vbi spectaculum factiestis Deo, Angelis, & hominibus, Where you are in the view of God, angels an [...] men. And you are going, ô looke to your going, Non est vit [...] momentum sine motu ad mortem. There is no mouing of [...] without a motion to death. You go and are alwaies goin [...] to make your appearance before the tribunall seat of Go [...] where euery man shall receiue according to his works. Qu [...] lis vita, finis ita: vt cecideris, ita eris. As you fall, so he find [...] you: as he findes you, so he censures you: and as he ce [...]sures you, so he leaues you for euer and euer. Wherefor [...] quia arbor ad eam partem moriens cadit, ad quam partem [...]uens ramos extenderat, because as a tree falles, that way swayes while it is in growing: if you desire to fall righ [...] learne while you are in your growth, to sway the right wa [...] Iudge your selues, that you be not iudged, Vt sementum [...]ce [...]is, ita metes: What you sowe that you reape, eithe [...] crowne of glorie, quam nemo scit nisi qui accepit, or a chaos confusion, in qua sempeternus horror habitat, whose worth can not be expressed, but of him that enioyes it, or a masse of confusion in which eternall horror doth inhabit.

CHAP. IIII. Who liues most honestly, will die most willingly.

SWeet (saith Chrysostome) is the end to the labourers: willingly doth the traueller question about his Inne: often casteth the hireling when his yeeres will come out: the woman great with childe will often muse of her deliuerie: and he that knowes his life is but a way to death, will sit vpon the thresholde with the poore prisoner, expecting to haue the doore open to be let out of so lothsome a prison, looking for death without feare, desiring it with delight, and accepting it with deuotion.

For what's the life of man, but euen a tragedie,
Full of sad sighes, and sore catastrophes?
First comming to the world with weeping eye,
Where all his dayes like dolorous trophes,
Are heapt with spoiles of fortune and of feare.

For it is onely death that vnlooseth the chaines, and sers vs free from our domesticall enemie. It is onely he, that wafts vs forward in this sea of calamities, the danger whereof is shewen by the multitude of those that perish by the gunshot of the diuels assaults, and by the rarenesse of those that e­scape shipwracke.

Our frailties dome, is written in the flowers,
Which flourish now, but fade yer many howers.
By deaths permission th'aged linger heere,
Straight after death, is due the fatall beere.

It is onely death that brings vs into harbour, where our re­pose is without trouble, our comfort without crosses, where our teares shall be turned into triumph, our sadnesse into ioy, and all our miseries into perfit felicitie.

Death is the salue that ceaseth all annoy.
Death is the port by which we passe to ioy.

[Page]It is for brutes to feare death, whose end of life is con­clusion of their being. It is for Epicures to feare death, whose death is the beginning of their damnation. It is for such as trafficke vanities, to looke to gaine griefe; for such as haue sowen sinne, to looke to reape miserie; for those of a desperate life, to looke for a damnable decease: but the good man that did sowe in teares, by death shall reape in ioy; for his iudge is he who knowes our weaknesse, and will acknowledge our infirmities: his accusers are made dumbe by former repentance; his conscience is cleared by former confession; hope is his staffe, to keepe him from sliding; grace is his guide, to keepe him from erring; faith his assurance, to strengthen his resolution: and what doth he ose, but fraile and tickle life, a vapour that soone vani­sheth, a drie leafe carried with euery winde, a sleepe fed with imaginarie dreames, a tragedy of transitory things and dis­guised persons, that passe away like a poste in the night, like a ship in the sea, like a bird in the aire, whose tract the aire closeth?

Life is a bubble blowen vp with a broath,
Whose wit is weaknesse, and whose wage is death,
Whose way is wildnesse, and whose inne is penance,
Stooping to crooked age the host of grieuance.

Who can he in his studie and looke on his houre-glasse, and say not to himselfe, Vt hora, sic fugit vita? that thy life is spent with the houre? Who can walke in the Sunne, and looke on his shadow, and not say with Pindarus, [...], Vmbrae somnium homo, Man is but the dreame of a shadow? Or who can see the smoake dispersed in the aire, and not say with the Poet, Sic in non hominem vertitur omni [...] homo Canst thou feele the wind beat on thy face, and cans [...] thou forget that thou holdest thy tenement by a puffe o [...] winde? canst thou sit by the riuer side, and not remembe [...] that as the riuer runneth, and doth not returne, so is the lif [...] of man? Canst thou shoot in the fields, and not call to min [...] that as the arrow flieth in the aire, so swiftly doe thy daye [...] [Page] passe? Or canst thou walke in the fields, and see how some grasse is comming, some newly withered, and some already come, and doest not remember that all flesh is grasse? Mi­ser homo, cur te ad mortem non disponis, cùm sis pro certo mori­turus? Miserable man, why doest thou not dispose thy selfe to death, since thou art sure thou canst not liue? Nostrum viuere, è vita transire: our best life is to die well: for liuing here we enioy nothing: things past are dead and gone: things present are alwayes ending: things future alwayes be­ginning: while we liue we die; and we leaue dying, when we leaue liuing. Our life was a smoake, and is vanished; was a shadow, and is passed; was a bubble, and is dissolued. The poore mans life is led in want, & therefore miserable. The rich mans ioy is but vanity: for he is poore in his ri­ches, abiect in his honours, discontented in his delights. This made Hilarion say, Egredere: quid times, anima? octo­ginta annos seruisti domino: Thou hast serued thy God foure­score yeeres, and therefore feare not now to goe take thy wages. And Ambrose, Non mori timeo, quia bonum habeo do­minum, Who feared not to die, knowing that he that came hither to buy vs an inheritance, is gone before vs to prepare it for vs.

O who would liue, so many deaths to trie,
Where will doth wish that wisedome doth reproue,
Where nature craues that grace must needs denie,
Where sence doth like, that reason can not loue,
Where best in shew in finall proofe is worst,
Where pleasures vpshot is to die accurst?
‘Quid es; vides. Quid futurus sis; Cogita.’

CHAP. V. Speculum vitae. A sinners glasse.

WHat is the life of man but a continuall bat­tell, and defiance with God? what haue our eies and eares beene, but open gates to send in loades of sinne into our minde? What haue our powers and senses beene, but tynder to take, and fewell to feed the flame of concupiscence? What hath thy body beene but a stewes of an adulteresse, but a forge of Sathan, where the fire of our affections kindled with wicked suggestions, haue en­flaired the passions of our heart, and made it the anuile to turne vs to most vgly shapes of deformed sensualitie? What hath our soule, which is the receipt of the blessed Trinitie betrothed to Christ in Baptisme, beautified with grace, or­deined with the fellowship of angels to eternall blesse, what hath it beene, but a most vile broker, presenting to thy will allurements of sinne? what hath our will beene, but [...] common harlot lusting after euery delight, wherein sh [...] tooke liking? what is our memorie, but a register of mos [...] detestable and abhominable facts committed by vs? wha [...] hath our reason beene, but a captiued vagabond, subdue [...] by euerie passion?

The sinne that conquers grace by wicked vre,
So soyles our soules as they can haue no cure.

So that by this metamorphosis we are become more od [...]ous to God then the diuell himselfe: for the diuell by cre [...]tion was more beautifull then we: it was sinne that defo [...]med [Page] him, and that sinne that made him odious, makes vs detestable: for our sinnes are woorse then his, and we not so good as he: for his sinne was one, & ours are infinite: he sinned before the stipend of sinne was knowne, ours after notice & experience of it: he sinned created in innocencie, we sin restored vnto it: he persisted in malice being of God reiected, we continue in hatred against him that recalled vs: his heart was hardned against him that punisht him, ours obdurate against him that allureth vs. So that our case is now such as infinite goodnesse detesteth, and infinite loue can­not condole. The earth was created for a place of pleasure, the aire was created temperate, creatures were made to be obedient to man, all things framed to his best content: but see how sinne hath transformed pleasure into plagues, fa­mine and murders many in number, grieuous in qualitie, and ordinarie in experience, which indeed are but Initia dolori [...] for the damned suffer death without death, decaie without decay, enuie without enuie; for their death euer liueth: their end euer beginneth, and their decay neuer ceaseth, but are alwaies healed to be new wounded, dying but neuer dead, repaired onely to be new decaied.

CHAP. VI. The vnion of Mercy and Iustice.

THere be two feet whereon God walketh on the hearts of men; Mercie and Trueth, which a sinner must fall downe with Marie and kisse, that in respect of Gods Iustice we may reteine feare, and in regard of his Mercie conceiue hope: for all the waies of God are Mercie and Truth; Mercie, that we may not de­spaire, and Trueth, that we may not presume.

O who shall shew the countenance and gestures,
Of Mercie and Iustice, which faire sacred sisters
With equall poize doe euer ballance euen,
Th'vnchaunging proiects of the king of heauen?
Th'one sterne of looke, th' other milde aspecting,
Th'one pleasd with teares, th'other blood affecting.
Th'one beares the sword of vengeance vnrelenting,
Th'other brings pardon for the true repenting.

Because God is mercifull, wilt thou build a nest of sinne, as the Psalmist saith, vpon his backe? thou canst not seuer his Mercie from his Iustice, and then Iustice will sentence, Tarditatem poenae, grauitate supplicij. Is God a iust God, a terrible God, into whose hands it is a horrible thing to fall? Thou canst not separate his Iustice from his Mercie: she wil proclaime Misericordiam Dei super omnia opera sua, his mercy exalteth hirselfe aboue his iudgements, Vult enim omnes homines saluos sieri. He that can that he will, will not the death of one sinner, but that he may turne from his wic­kednesse and liue for euer: he offreth his mercy to all, but neuer vseth his iustice but vpon necessitie. I will sing vnto thee, ô Lord, mercy and trueth together, not mercy alone, as not fearing thy iudgements, nor trueth alone, as despair­ing in thy mercies: but thy mercies shall breed a loue, and thy iudgements shall make me feare to impath my selfe in the way of sinners.

For hope of helpe still comfort giues,
While Mercy still with Iustice liues.

CHAP. VII. Iugum meum suaue.

IT is well obserued by one, That the rodde of the roote of Iesse flowred, that the sweetnesse of the flower might mittigate the seueritie of the the rodde. The diuell is neuer suffred to punish vs farther then is for our benefit: for either he corrects vs [Page] [...]or our former offences, or else to preuent our future infir­mities. Neither is euery one that spareth, a friend, nor euery one that striketh an enemie: but the words of a friend are better then the flatterings of a foe, and he that loues with austeritie, is better then he that killes with delicacie. It is the diuels common course to kill our soule, while he flatters our fancie. For as the theefe that can not by open violence catch his bootie, seeketh by shrowding himselfe in valleies and bushes to take the trauellers vnprouided: so the diuell, when by open pursuit he can not preuaile, he coutcheth himselfe in briers and shadowes of worldly vanities, entrap­ping vs before we preuent his traines. For albeit with a smooth flight and euen wing he lessen himselfe into the clouds, as an eagle delighted to view the sunne: yet is he but a rauening kite, soaring in the aire, the better to see how to seaze vpon his pray. God borroweth not the Syrens voice, when he would sting with a Scorpions taile, and when he bites with the tooth of a lion, he vseth not the teares of a crocodill, but as the husbandman lops his vine least the iuice should be spent in leaues: so least our mindes should be imploied in vaine and superfluous pleasures; our wits which without profit would be diffused, are by him kept in compasse by tribulation. For where he purposeth to heale, he spareth not to launce: and if he see thou be foste­red by the world thy naturall nurse, he can annoint hir teate with the bitternesse of discontent, to weane thee from hir: for he that bindes the franticke, and awakes the lethargee, is troublesome, but friendly to both.

If ought can touch vs ought, afflictions lookes
Makes vs to looke into our selues so neere,
Teach vs to know our selues beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned schooles that euer were.
This makes our senses quicke, and reason cleare,
Resolues our will, and rectifies our thoughts,
So doe the windes and thunder clense the aire,
So lopt and pruned tries do flourish faire.

[Page]Be not discouraged; thou art a Christian, whose captaine is a Crucifixe, whose standard the Crosse, whose armour Pa­tience, whose battell Persecution, whose victorie Death. Whether God fostreth thee as a weakling, or exercise thee as one stronger, or checke thee as one vnruly; yet he ten­dreth all as his owne children. Behold thy Sauiour with his head full of thornes, his eies full of teares, his eares full or blasphemies, his mouth full of gal, his body full of wounds, his heart full of sorrow; and blame him not, if ere thou find him, he giue thee a sippe of the chalice whereof be drunke so full a cuppe. Thy loue must be great, when his sorrow is more at thy ingratitude, then at his owne affliction, when he lost himselfe to winne thee: a worke without example, a grace beyond merite, a charitie surpassing measure. Where­fore whether he set thee to seeke him in the pouerty of the crib and manger, or in the agony of his bloody sweat in the garden, or in the middest of reproches and false accu­sations before the tribunall, or in the torments of a shame­full death; yet thinke thy selfe as deepe in his fauour fo [...] be [...]ng tried by the torments of his passion, as those that ar [...] called by the testimonie of his glorious transfiguration.

CHAP. VIII. That feare to die is the effect of an euill life.

IOhannes Patriarch of Alexandria, whose fre [...]quent deeds of charity gaue him this Ep [...]thete, to be called Iohannes Eleemosynarit [...] hauing his tombe in building, gaue his pe [...]ple in charge, that it should be left vnfin [...]shed, and that euerie day one should [...] him in minde to perfect it. His meaning was, that by th [...] meanes hauing his thoughts fixed of the doore of death, [...] might the better prepare himselfe for the passage throu [...] it. The Pope that day he is chosen, hath one comes to [...] [Page] with foure marble stones, as patterns to choose of which his tomble shall be built. He that raketh vp vertue in the [...]shes of the memorie of death, shall finde hir force so vni­ [...]ed, that when they come to be vnraked, they shall finde that hir heate will so encourage vs, that when our soule fin­ [...]eth a vent to mount vp to hir naturall Sphere, she will [...]lame in the firmament, and shine most oriently to our ex­ [...]essiue comfort, and hir Creators inestimable glorie: for he whose life was a studie to die, well knowes that death hath [...]ost his tartenesse by passing through the veines of life: he [...]eares not his cold sweats, nor forgoing gripes, but taketh [...]hem as throwes in childe-bed, by which our soule is [...]rought out of a lothsome body into eternall felicitie. He [...]eares not the diuels, whose temptations he hath valiantly [...]esisted: the graue is no horror to him, for he knowes he [...]wes the body in corruption to reape it againe in immor­ [...]litie. He that liueth well, shall make a good end, and in [...]he day of death his decease shall be blessed, for he rest­ [...]om his labours, and his works doe follow him. But to him [...]at liueth ill, death is an euer dying death: he lies tormen­ [...]d with the pangues of the dying flesh, amazed with the [...]orrosiue fittes of the minde, frighted with terror of that is [...] come, grieued with remorse of that which is past, stung [...]th the gnawing of a guiltie conscience, terrified with the rigor of a seuere iudge, vexed with approch of a loth­some sepulchre. They made their prison their paradise, their bellie their God, their ap­petite their guide: so sowing sinne, they reape miserie, traffiking vanities, they gaine griefe: detestable was their life, and damnable is their decease.

‘Absit mihi gloriari nisi in Christo.’

CHAP. IX. That affliction is the coate of a Christian.

IF we be Christians, asfliction is our coat, and the Crosse our cognizance, In hoc signo vin­ces: Christs clouts comfort not those that walke in side robes. The stable and manger are no refreshings to such as loue the highest roomes in the Synagogue. Our arke lieth not in papilionibus, but in praesepio. If we be members of that head which was prickt with thornes, let the rest of the parts sympathize with it: let the Mount Caluarie be our schoole, the crosse our pulpit, the crucifixe our meditation, his wounds our letters, his lashes our commaes, his nailes our full-points, his open side our booke, and Scire Christum crucifixum, our whole lesson. By his nakednesse, learne to clothe thee; by his crowne of thornes, how to adorne thee; by his vinegre and gall, how to diet thee; by his praying for him murderers, how to reuenge thee; by his hanging on the crosse, how to [...]epose thee. Heere learne, that death reui­ueth, sorow solaceth, an ecclipse enlighteneth; that out of the deuourer there came meat, and out of the stronger issu­eth sweetnesse. And since our sinnes (like fierce Samsons) haue murdered the lion of the tribe of Iuda, let our repen­tant thoughts (like bees) sucke at the flowers of his passion, and make hony to delight our selues and prouoke others. Let vs seeke Christ, not inter cognatos & natos, nor with the spouse in the Canticles, in lectulo meo quaesiui quem amaui, nor with them in Osee, that looke him in gregibus & armentis; but seeke him with Moses in the desert, with Daniel in a firy throne. His delight is to see Nineue in sackcloth, Iob on the [Page] dunghill; he expects a perfect demonstration of a seruice­able minde, for an Eamus & nos, vt moriamur cum illo: for losse of felicitie searcheth the force of affection. It is neither prosperitie that tries a friend, nor aduersitie that concealeth an enemie. This is that true God that chiefe life, in whom, by whom, and from whom all things doe flow, from whom to reuolt is to fall, to whom to returne is to rise, in whom to stay is to stand sure, from whom to depart is to die, to whom to repaire is to reuiue, in whom to dwell is to liue: that God whom none loseth but deceiued, none seeketh but admoni­shed, none findeth but are cleansed, what euer is not of God is not good: giue me thy selfe, & take all things els from me.

CHAP. X. A theme to thinke on.

COnsidera, ô homo, Quid es in natura, Quis in persona, Qualis in vita. Consider, ô man, what thou art in nature, who thou art in per­son, what an one thou art in life: for thou art not in nature as a stone hauing onely be­ing, nor as a plant hauing onely being and growing, nor as a brute hauing onely being, growing, and sense; but as a man who to these imperfections hath the per­fection of a liuing soule added.

This soul's a substance and a reall thing,
Which hath it selfe an actuall worke in night,
But neither from the senses power doth spring,
Nor from the bodies humours tempered right:
It God himselfe doth in the bodie make,
And man from this the name of man doth take.

And the same God that created thee of nothing, pre­serues thee from all things that might annoy thee; giues thee health and plentie, and subiecteth all things to thy ser­uice, that thou mightst serue him in holinesse and righte­ousnesse [Page] all the dayes of thy life: for if God had not created thee, thou hadst not beene at all: if Christ had not redee­med thee, the diuell had deiected thee in the fall of Adam: if the Holy Ghost should not comfort thee, thou couldest not be preserued as thou art. Since therefore thou art Gods by creation, redemption, and preseruation, looke what time thou bestowest out of his seruice, thou stealest from him who made it for thee to serue him in it, and art a thiefe. If thou b [...]est more enamoured of any of these blessings which he bestowes on thee to win thy loue, than of himselfe, who shewes his loue in bestowing them on thee, thou commit­test idolatrie, and art an idolater. If thou bestowest good houres in ill actions, or great blessings to bad purposes, thou committest treason, and art a traitor.

He that preferres not God fore all his race,
Amongst the sonnes of God deserues no place.

Tui pe est benè natis male viuere, & plantatis benè peiùs fru­ctificare. Thou art created after his owne image; make no impression vnworthy that character. Pulchra siut oportet quae ex eius animo procedunt, qui in Dei habitaculum est praeparan­dus. Thy soule is the temple of the Holy Ghost, thou must not pollute it with brutish appetites, but prepare it with gra­cious meditations, most fitting food wherewithall to enter­taine so heauenly a ghest. He hath made thee in person e­rect, that he might put thee in mind to rectifie thy thoughts and actions. O leuell thy life to the straightnesse of the line of thine owne portrature. Staine not the beautie of thy parts, lest thou susteine miserie in this life with the losse of eternall life: for the stipend of sinne is death, and the merit of transgression is eternall perdi­tion.

CHAP. XI. Morning Meditation, with sixteene sobs of a sorowfull spirit, which she vsed for mentall prayer, as also an addi­tion of sixteene staues of verse taken out of Peters complaint; which she vsually sung and played on the winde instrument.

Happie is the man whose life is a continuall prayer.

O God to whom nothing is so great as can re­sist, nothing so little as is contemptible: O Christ the guide of those that seeke thee, the light of those that finde thee: O Holy Ghost that both fillest and includest all things; I am ashamed to be seene of thee, because I am not assured to be receiued by thee, hauing neither deserued pardon for my faults, nor participation of thy glorie: yet sweet Iesu supply my defects, that by thy mercie I may obtaine remission, and by thy merits deserue saluation. Let thy passion worke compassion for me,

A sorie wight the obiect of disgrace,
The monument of feare, the map of shame,
The mirror of mishap, the staine of place,
The scorne of time, the infamie of fame,
An excrement of earth to heauen hatefull,
Iniurious to man, to God vngratefull.

LOrd, I am depressed with the burden of my sinnes, and oppressed with the feare of the punishment belonging to them; hauing neither power to resist thy wrath, nor pa­tience to endure thy indignation: wherefore I am becomes as it doth become me, thy humbie suppliant. Lord be mer­cifull [Page] to me a sinner. My abiect countenance witnesseth my distressed minde, my words are seasoned with sighes, and bathed with teares. O let the deaw of my deuotion be drawne vp with the beames of thy remorse: for behold, as a hunger▪ starued begger doe I knocke at thy gate, ò honora­ble housholder. Open, ô open the gates of thy mercies, to the greatnesse of my miseries.

Sad subiect of my sinne hath stor'd my minde,
With euerlasting matter of complaint:
My throwes an endlesse alphabet doe finde,
Beyond the pangues that Ieremie doth paint.
That eies with errors may iust measure keepe:
Most teares I wish that haue most cause to weepe.

PReserue my body from eternall death, reserue my soule from euerlasting damnation: let me neither vngrateful­ly remember thy benefits, nor vngratiously forget thy se­uere iudgements: for albeit, there be no folly which hath not had his seat in my minde, and left his footstep in my actions; yet for that thou lookest for my amendment, that I may haue thy fauour, grant me thy fauour that I may haue amendment.

Giue vent vnto the vapors of my brest,
That thicken in the brims of cloudy eies,
Where sin was hatch't let teares now wash the nest.
Where life was lost, recouer life wit [...]
My trespas foule, let not my teare [...] off
Baptise my spotted soule in weeping dew humors [...].

COnforme my life, confirme my faith, endue my soule with thy loue, subdue my flesh with thy feare: Let me not dieere I begin to liue: giue me time to repent, & occasi­on to amend: direct my reason: regenerate my wil: lead my desires, that I may seeke thee: illuminate my vnderstanding, that I may finde thee: let my ioy be in enioying thee, in whom desire wants no satiety, nor satiety breeds discontent.

For gripes in all my parts doe never faile:
Whose onely league, is now in bartring paines:
What I engrosse, they traffique by retaile:
Making each others miserie their gaines:
All bound for euer prentices to care,
Whilst I in shop of shame trade sorrowes ware.

LEt thy maiestie appeare in thy mercy, couer my sinnes, and I am recouered of my infirmities: for my consci­ence accuseth me, my memorie giues euidence against me, and my reason condemneth me. Conuert ô Lord, conuert my life, and diuert my punishment.

My guiltie eie still seemes to see my sinne:
All things characters are to spell my fall.
What eie doth read without heart rues within:
What heart doth rue to pensiue thought is gall,
Which when my thought would by my tongue digest,
My eares conuey it backe into my brest.

OVt of a maze of amazements doe I crie out vnto thee, ô God my Sauiour and Redeemer: Grant, ô Lord, that I may firmely resolue, speedily begin, constantly con­tinue in performing thy will: let me honour thee as a Crea­tor, loue thee as a Redeemer, expect thee as a Sauiour: for by thy goodnesse I was created, by thy mercy redeemed, by thy power preserued, and by thy grace I shall be glorified. Grant, ô [...] God, that wast mademan, that men might [...] the sonnes of God, that I may liue in thy feare, [...] our, rest in thy peace, rise in thy power, remaine in thy glorie for euer and euer.

For lif's a maze of countlesse straying waies:
Open to erring steps, and strowed with baits:
To winde weake senses into endlesse straies,
A loofe from vertues rough vnbeaten straits,
A flower, a play, a blast, a shade, a dreame,
A liuing death, a neuer turning streame.

[Page]GRatious God, whose honour is more in sauing through pitty, then in condemning through iudge­ment, thou that canst mitigate griefes present, and canst turne away dangers to come: pardon, I beseech thee, my sinnes past, aide me against all temptations to come, and I shall praise thy name for euer and euer.

Else weeping eies resigne your teares to me,
A sea will scantly rinse my ordur'd soule.
Huge horrors in high tides must drowned be.
Of euery teare my crime exacteth toule.
My staines are deepe: few drops take out none such,
Euen salue with sore, and most is not too much.

GOod Lord, make me couet those things that be plea­sing to thee, let me finde them easily, and search them wisely, know them truely, and exercise them effectually, to thy glory and my saluation. Dispose the course of my life, that it may accomplish that which thou requirest: Lay forth thy passions that I may feele them; satisfie me in thy mer­cies, that I may reioice in them: remooue from me all lets to serue thee, and giue me those things that may draw me to thee: instruct my iudgement, rule my affections according to thy will, in the depth of thy mercies confound the deui­ses of my enemies against me.

Lest shame the liuery of offending mind,
The vgly shroud that ouer shadoweth blame,
The mulct at which foule faults are iustly fin'd,
The dampe of sinne, the common sluce of fame,
By which impostum'd tongues their humors purge,
Doe light on me: for I deserue thy scurge.

LOrd thou hast deliuered me out of the iawes of death and redeemed my [...]oule out of the gates of perdition sanctifie my life, that it may be a witnesse of my thankeful [...]nesse; let my memorie be a record to shew thy goodnesse [Page] so shall my lips shew forth thy praise, and my heart shall be possest with the glory of thy greatnesse.

For fawning vipers, dumble till they had wounded,
With many mouthes do now vpbraid my harmes:
My sight was vail'd, till I my selfe confounded,
But now I see the disinchanted charmes,
Now can I cut th' anatomie of sinne,
And search with Linxes eyes what lies within.

GIue me, ô Lord, sorrow for my sinnes, thankefulnesse for thy benefits, feare of thy iudgements, and loue of thy mercies: giue me an vnderstanding heart, that I may conceaue a right loue of thy lawe, that I may desire to per­forme it, strength of thy spirit that I may haue power to ex­ecute it: and because by thy grace I am that I am, let thy demaunds be no greater then thou hast giuen me grace to performe. Lord giue what thou commandest, and then command what thou wilt: let the greatnesse of thy mercies supplie the wants of my miseries: that my heart may reioice in the Lord, and thy sauing health may be knowne among all nations.

O beames of mercy beat on sorrowes cold,
Powre suppling shewers on my parched ground,
Bring foorth the fruit of your due seruice vow'd,
Let good desires with like deserts be crownd,
Water yongue blooming vertues tender flowre,
Sin did all grace of viper growth deuoure.

HAue mercy vpon me, ô Lord, haue mercy vpon me, according to the multitude of thy mercies, doe away [...]hy offences: wash me from my wickednesse, and clense me [...]rom my secret sinnes: for I acknowledge my faults, and my sinnes haue made me odious to my selfe. Be mercifull, [...] Lord, be mercifull vnto thy seruant, and let not the gates [...]f hell preuaile against him: for though the stipend of his [...]nne is death, and the merit of his transgression eternall [Page] perdition; yet is thy mercie aboue all thy works, and thou canst forgiue more, than he could offend: thou that wilt not the death of a sinner, denie not the request of a repen­tant sinner: thou which hast giuen me repentance, which is the seale of forgiuenesse, grant me forgiuenesse, which is the assurance of repentance.

If Dauid night by night did bathe his bed,
Esteeming longest dayes too short to mone:
Inconsolable teares if Anna shed,
Who in hir sonne hir solace had forgone:
Then I to dayes, to months, to weeks, to yeeres,
Do owe the hourely rent of stintlesse teares.

OVt of the depth of my soule do I crie vnto thee, Lord put me not to rebuke in thine anger; let not thine hand [...]resse me, neither chasten me in thy displeasure; for I consesse my wickednesse, and am sory for my sinne; suf­fer not my name to be touched with dishonour, neither giue me ouer to be clothed in rebuke: cleanse my heart from corrupt thoughts, and purge my mouth from all vn­cleannesse, and impath me in that course that is best plea­sing to thee.

Christ health of feuer'd soule, heauen of the mind,
Force of the feeble, nurse of infant loues,
Guide to the wandring foot, light to the blind,
Whom weeping winnes, repentant sorow moues,
Father in care, mother in tender hart,
Reuiue and saue me slaine with sinfull dart.

PRaise the Lord, ô my soule, ô let all that is within me praise his holy name. Praise the Lord, ô my soule, and let not the least of his benefits be forgotten: for he hath de­liuered thy body from death, and thy soule hath he redee­med out of the estate of damnation: for he hath created thee after his owne image, and breathed a liuing soule into thee, to praise his name for euer and euer: for his proui­dence [Page] hath preserued thee, his strength defended thee, his mercie comforted thee, and his grace shall glorifie thee. O therefore praise his holy name; O let all that is within me sing praises to my God, my Sauiour and Redeemer.

Lazar at pities gate I vlcered lie,
Crauing the refuse crummes of childrens plate.
My sores I lay in view to mercies eye:
My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate.
The wormes of conscience that within me swarme,
Proue that my plaints are lesse than is my harme,

GIue me, ô Lord, an vnderstanding heart, that I may haue a true feeling of the greatnesse of thy benefits, in­struct thou my lippes, and my mouth shall shew foorth thy praise: for my heart desireth to haue hir loue knowen, and my spirit reioiceth in God my Sauiour: I will magnifie thy holy name, for thou hast heard my voice, and not suffred my foes to triumph ouer me: thou hast relieued my wants, and giuen me plenty when I was in necessitie. I will lift vp my hands vnto the king of glory, euen vnto his mercies sea [...] from whence is my redemption; for I know the weak­nesse of our flesh, and acknowledge there is no helpe that comes not from aboue.

Prone lookes, crost armes, bent knee, and contrite heart,
Deepe sighs, thicke sobs, dew'd eies, and prostrate praiers,
Most humbly begge release of earned smart,
And sauing shrowd in mercies sweet repaires:
If Iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage,
Feares would dispaires, ruth breed a hopelesse rage.

I Giue thee thanks, ô most mercifull father, for all thy be­nefits bestowed vpon me, desiring thee long to continue them, and to make me thankfull for them: direct the words of my mouth, the meditations of my heart, the actions of my body, that they may be pleasing to thee, and profitable for me: Lord heare my voice, accept this my sacrifice of [Page] thanksgiuing, which thy bountifull goodnesse hath exto [...] ­ted. Let not the world, the flesh, nor the diuell preuaile against me, but let thy gracious spirit conquer them in all my conflicts. Lord I haue reposed my whole trust in thee, let no: thy seruant be put to confusion.

With mildnesse Iesu measure my offence,
Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate,
Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense,
Let pittie temper thy deserued hate,
Let grace forgiue, let loue forget my fall:
With feare I craue, in hope I humblie call.

LOrd, though I can neither praise thee as becommeth me, nor pray to thee as I ought to doe; yet accept I be­seech thee, these my halting speeches brokenly vttered, as an oblation for my most grieuous offences: looke vpon me in thy mercies, and let the blood of that immaculate lambe Christ Iesus, stand betwixt me and thy iudgements. Lord, into thy hands do I commend my soule, and my body into thy custody, Lord Iesu receiue them: Lord blesse me and al that belongs vnto me from this time foorth for euermore. Sweet Iesu sanctifie my life, & blesse me with sorrow for my sinnes, thankfulnesse for thy benefits, feare of thy iudge­ments, loue of thy mercies, mindefulnesse of thy presence, that liuing in thy feare, I may die in thy fauour, rest in thy peace, rise in thy power, remaine in thy glory for euer and euer.

Redeeme my lapse with ransome of thy loue,
Trauers th'inditement, rigors doome suspend,
Let frailtie fauour, sorrow succour moue.
Be thou thy selfe, though changeling I offend,
Tender my suite, clense this defiled den,
Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen.

CHAP. XII. A Madrigall made by Berny Grymeston vpon the conceit of his mothers play to the former ditties.

HOw many pipes, as many sounds
Do still impart to your sonnes hart
As many deadly wounds.
How many strokes, as many stounds,
Ech stroke a dart, ech stound a smart,
Poore Captiue me confounds.
And yet how oft the strokes of sounding keyes hath slaine,
As oft the looks of your kind eies restores my life againe.

CHAP. XIII. Euening Meditation. Odes in imitation of the seuen poenitentiall Psalmes, in seuen seuerall kinde of verse.

Domine exaudi orationem meam.

VOuchsafe admit thy gracious eares,
With milde regard for to attend
The prayers, that a plaining heart
With sorowing sighs to thee doth send:
And let thereto, o louing Lord,
Thy Iustice and thy Trueth accord.
In rigour of thy righteous doome,
O do not scan thy seruants cause:
For there is none on earth aliue,
Through faultlesse life freed from thy lawes.
Then how may I in sinfull plight,
Seeme iust in thy all-seeing sight!
The friend of sinne, the foe of soules,
Downe to the earth my soule hath brought,
Which to the heauen should aspire,
Since from the heauen it was wrought:
O raise it vp againe to blisse,
From earth and all that earthly is.
Amids the darke misse-led am I,
Where lacke of light sinnes view denies:
I liue a life more like to death,
While dead from grace my bodie lies,
And where as care through secret smart
Sends anguish to afflict my hart.
But I (ô Lord) recall to minde
What thou hast done in time before,
And how thy Iustice hath beene great,
But how thy Mercy hath beene more.
Thus hope of helpe still comfort giues,
While Mercie still with Iustice liues.
My stretched hands to thee display
The ensignes of my yeelding hart:
My soule, as earth that water wants,
Of vertues fruit can beare no part.
I faint, send some reliefe of raine,
Lest els vnfruitfull I remaine.
Thy face of pitie, not of wrath,
Turne not, ô louing Lord, from me:
And let not, Lord, my owne misdeeds
Haue lasting force to anger thee:
For so might I compare my case
To theirs that furthest fall from grace.
But since my hope is firme in thee,
Let me betimes thy mercie haue,
The way of health make knowen to me,
My feet from erring paths to saue.
Onely to thee my soule retires:
Onely thy mercie it desires.
O free me from my sinfull foes,
To thee I flie to be secure,
Teach me the lesson of thy will,
And let me put it well in vre.
Thou art my God, and God of all
That for thy aide and comfort call.
Thou wilt vouchsafe to me, ô Lord,
Thy Holy Spirit to be my guide,
My faith and hope in thee is such,
And such it ever shall ab [...]de.
Reuiue thou wilt me for thy name:
Goodnesse in thee requires the same.
So that at last by thee, ô God,
My soule from bale to blis be brought;
And that in mercie thou subuert
All those my soules destruction sought:
And force of foes destroyd may be,
And made safe for seruing thee.
All glory be to thee, ô God
The Father of eternall might,
And to the Sonne and Holy ghost,
Three man vndiuided plight,
As now it is, and was of yore,
And shall endure for euermore.

De profundis clamaui ad te Domine.

EVen from the depth of woes,
Wherein my soule remaines,
To thee in supreme blisse,
O Lord, that highest raignes,
I do both call and crie.
It's deepe h [...]art sorowes force,
That moues me thus to waile:
It's pity Lord in thee,
Must make it to auaile.
Thine eares therefore applie.
If strictly thou, ô Lord,
Obserued hast my sinne,
Alas, what shall I do?
What case then am I in,
If rigour thou extend?
But well, ô Lord, I know
Sweet Mercy dwels with thee:
And with thy Iustice then
It must expected be:
And I therefore attend.
My soule doth wait on thee,
Thy grace confirms my trust,
My warrant is thy word,
Thou keepest promise iust:
Keepe me, ô Lord, secure.
Let thy afflicted flocke
Comfort in thee retaine,
From dawning day to night,
From night to day againe
Let still their hope endure.
There is with our good God
Much mercy still in store
Redemption doth remaine
With him for euermore.
Abundant is his grace.
His people he afflicts
He will not leaue distrest,
The thralled he will free
With ease of their vnrest,
[...] deface▪
All glory be therefore,
O Father, vnto thee,
And so vnto the Sonne
The like great glory be,
And to the Holy Ghost,
Such as it woonted was
Before the world beganne,
Such as now yet it is,
And euer shall remaine,
Aboue all glory most.

Domine exaudi orationem meam.

O Let, ô Lord, thine eares enclined be
To heare the praiers that I make to thee:
And my hearts griefe that breaketh foorth in cries,
O let it haue the power to pierce the skies.
Turne not from me thy fauourable face,
What day or houre I am in heauie case:
But when I call to thee in my distresse,
O heare me, Lord, and send me soone redresse.
My daies and yeares, alas with little gaine,
Like vnto smoke, how are they past in vaine!
My forces, Lord, how are they parch't and dry!
Deuotions lacke yeelds moisture no supply.
The blasted grasse my image now can show,
My withered heart confirmes that it is so,
And I forgotten haue, vnto my griefe,
To eate the bread of my soules best reliefe.
And my too much regard of earthly care,
Before my selfe for grace I could prepare,
Made reason to abandon reason quite,
And to affliction fast it selfe vnite.
But now, ô Lord, since that I now beginne
To see my selfe, and know the shame of sinne;
From earthly traine I will retire my minde,
Thee will I seeke my sauing health to finde.
In desert like as liues the Pelicane,
Or as the Crowe that doth day light refraine,
Or chirping Sparrow sitting all alone,
I shrowd, I watch, retir'd I make my mone.
But while, O Lord, I doe endure this life,
Expecting peace, by fleeing worldly strife,
Old friends I finde become new noisome foes,
O loue me Lord, for losse of loue of those.
My penance not restraind through scorne of these,
My foode I take with ashes and with teares,
The more I feare lest thou on me shouldst frowne,
That canst me raise, aud raising cast me downe.
My daies decline as doth a shadow passe,
And I as haie that whilome was as grasse:
But thou from age to age shalt euer be,
Then euermore, ô Lord, forget not me.
Vouchsafe, ô Lord, in puissance to arise,
To raise thy Sion that depressed lies:
Now is the time, the time doth now expire,
It mercy wants, and mercy doth desire.
This glorious worke was first begun by thee:
Thy seruants erst were glad the stones to see:
And they will grieue with hearts afflicted care,
If so the ruines thou dost not repaire.
But when, ô Lord, thy works shall shew thy fame,
The faithlesse people then shall feare thy name,
And earthly kings shall bend their glory downe
At thy celestiall glory and renowne.
Because thy Church, thy Sion, thou diddest build,
Where thou wouldst euer haue thy honor hild,
And hast not vnregarded heard the plaint
Of faithfull folke, thrald in vntruths restraint.
And that no time, remembrance may impaire
Of thy mainteined worke and mercy rare:
Let people now, for people to ensue,
Thy praise record, thy praises to renue.
For from high heauen to this low earthly place,
From blisse to bale our Lord enclines his face,
The groanes to heare, the grieued to release,
To free from thrall, to make affliction cease.
The more may Sion now sound foorth his fame,
Ierusalem his praises may proclaime,
Wherein his Church, his people do accord,
And where as kings are subiects to their Lord.
Who may, O Lord, the datelesse daies relate,
That of all ages ouerpasse the date?
It's thou to vs hast put appointed space,
O stop not me ere halfe I runne my race.
These elements by alteration strange
Shall changed be, and so remaine in change:
But thou, ô Lord, that workst all at thy will,
Wast earst the same, the same remaining still.
Vouchsafe, ô Lord, their ofspring to preserue,
That thee in feare, and faith, and loue do serue,
And in thy waies directed to remaine,
A lasting life in lasting blis to gaine.
Vnto the Father, Sonne and holy Ghost,
All praise and glory be ascribed most,
As heere before the world begun,
And as it now, and euer shall be done.

Miserere mei Deus.

HAue mercy ô good God on me
in greatnesse of thy grace,
O let thy mercies manifold
my many faults deface.
Foule, filthie, lothsome, vgly sinne
hath so defiled me,
With streames of pittie wash me cleane,
else cleane I cannot be.
Too well my foule vnclensed crimes
Remembrance doe renew,
Too plaine in anguish of my heart
they stand before my view.
To thee alone, ô Lord, to thee
these euils I haue done,
And in thy presence, woe is me,
that ere they were begun.
But since thou pardon promisest
where hearts true ruth is showne;
Shew now thy mercies vnto me,
to make thy iustnesse knowne.
That such as doe infringe thy grace,
be made asham'd, and shent,
As rife thy mercies to behold,
as sinners to repent.
With fauour view my foule defects:
in crimes I did beginne:
My nature bad, my mother fraile,
conceau'd I was in sinne.
But since thy selfe effectest truth,
and truth at selfe is Thee;
I truely hope to haue thy grace
from sinne to set me free.
Since to the faithfull thou before
the secret science gaue,
Whereby to know what thou wouldst spend,
the sinfull world to saue.
Whose heauenly Hyssope sacred drops.
shall me besprinckle so,
That it my sinne-defiled soule
shall wash more white then snow.
O when my eares receiue the sound
of such my soules release,
How do sinne laden limmes reioice,
at hearts true ioies encrease!
From my misdeeds retyre thy sight,
view not so foule a slaine,
First wipe away my spots impure,
then turne thy face againe.
A cleane and vndefiled heart,
ô God, create in me:
Let in me, Lord, of righteousnesse
a spirit infused be.
From that most glorious face of thine
ô cast me not away,
Thy holy Ghost vouchsafe, ô God,
With me that it may stay.
The ioy of thy saluation, Lord,
restore to me againe,
And with the sprite of graces chiefe,
confirme it to remaine.
That when at thy most gracious hand
my sutes receiued be,
The impious I may instruct
how they may turne to thee.
For when, ô Lord, I am releast
from vengeance and from blood,
How ioyfull shall I speake of thee,
so gracious and so good!
Thou, Lord, wilt giue me leaue to speake,
and I thy praise will showe:
For so thy graces do require
thou doest on me bestowe.
If thou sinne offrings hadst desired,
as wonted were to be,
How gladly those for all my illes,
I would haue yeelded thee!
But thou accepts in sacrifice
a sorrowing soule for sinne,
Despising not the heart contrite,
and humbled minde within▪
Deale graciously, ô louing Lord,
in thy free bounty will
With Sion thy deare spouse on earth,
and fortifie it still.
That so thou mayest thence receiue
that soueraigne sacrifice,
From altar of all faithfull hearts,
deuoutly where it lies.
To thee, ô Father, glory be,
and glory to the Sonne,
And glory to the holy Ghost
eternally be done.

Domine ne in furore.

A Middes the fury, my deare Lord,
rebuke not me,
Nor let thy chasticement befall,
when wrathfull thou shalt be.
Thy arrowes in my selfe I feele
already stand.
I see, ô Lord, thou fixed hast
at me thy ayming hand.
Within my selfe (ô woe is me)
no health I finde,
Through feare and terror of thy face,
that seemes to wrath enclinde.
My very bones disturbed be,
gone is their peace,
My owne beholding of my sinnes,
doth worke my woes encrease.
And as my sinnes surmounting are,
I must confesse,
So are they mounted on my head,
and heauy me oppresse.
My crimes forepast and pardoned,
like starres remaine,
That putrifi'd breake out anewe,
because I sinne againe.
A wofull wretch am I become,
crooked I grow,
Each day I waile, and while I liue,
I will continue so.
My members by illusions led
me so restraine,
My healthlesse body is vnapt
true vertue to retaine.
By great affliction I am brought
exceeding lowe;
Be moued, Lord, through my loud groanes,
thy mercies to bestowe.
My suites, ô Lord, tend all to thee,
thou knowest my case;
My plaints and penance, Lord, accept,
that so I may haue grace.
Within my selfe my silly heart
is vexed still,
My force is lost, my sight I lacke
to see and shun my ill.
In my displeasing thee, ô Lord,
right well I see,
My friends are foes, my life is sought,
and force is wrought on me.
They wish my ill, and speake my scorne;
and when they smile,
Their hate admits no time of stay
to studie fraud and guile.
But I, alas, with patience prest
must all forbeare,
Like to the dumbe, and seeming deafe,
I neither speake nor beare.
And for because, ô gracious God,
I trust in thee,
Thou wilt, I know, my louing Lord,
giue care and aide to me.
Let not, O Lord, my foes preuaile,
lest they reioyce,
Sith scarse my feet I may remoue,
but they aduance their voice.
Of my misdeeds I am prepar'd
to beare the smart:
Still is my sinne before my sight,
and sorow in my hart.
I will reuolue my faults forepast
amids my minde,
And those I truely will confesse,
that I may mercy finde.
Hate hath confirm'd on me my foes,
in wrongfull wise,
And still they liue, and do increase,
whose enuy neuer dies.
They yeeld me ill that gaue them good,
and me defie,
Because I goodnesse would ensue,
from which they seeke to flie.
Forsake me not, O Lord my God,
in state distrest;
Be ready, Lord, to my reliefe,
my life in thee doth rest.
To Father, Sonne, and Holy Ghost
all glory be,
From former endlesse date to dure
to all eternitie.

Beati quorum remissae sunt.

O How much blest may they remaine,
That pardon for their guilt obtaine,
And whose great ill, and ech offence,
Lies hid in contrite penitence!
What happy state may he be in,
To whom our Lord imputes no sin,
Whose conscience doth no guile retaine,
That can himselfe beguile againe▪
I did my sinnes in silence holde,
In griefe whereof my bones grew olde:
Meane while my dayes in plaints of paine,
Without redresse, I spent in vaine.
But when, O Lord, thy heauy hand
No day or night I could withstand,
But that in anguish ouerworne,
My conscience prickt as with a thorne:
Loe then, O Lord, I did beginne
To vtter all my secret sinne,
No longer list I ought conceale,
But ech in iustice to reueale.
Against my selfe, I sayd, will I
My wrongs confesse, and faults defie:
To thee, O Lord, O Lord to thee,
That hast from all absolued me.
And since I thus thy mercies finde,
Let ech of good and godly minde
Approch to thee in happy time,
To pray for pardon of his crime.
For such as so do sincke in sin,
That still they plunged lie therein,
Vnable are of thee to gaine
What contrite sinners can obtaine.
O Lord, my refuge rests in thee,
When troubles do enuiron me:
O free me then, my freedomes ioy,
From such as seeke me to annoy.
Great comforts, Lord, I do conceaue,
Thou me thy seruant wilt not leaue:
But wilt instruct and guide me right,
And keepe me euer in thy sight.
O ye that carelesse are of grace,
Beholde, and see your brutish case,
And be not as the horse and mule,
That liue deuoid of reasons rule.
And thou, O Lord, in mercies rife,
Vouchsafe restraine their straying life,
With bit and bridle make them stay,
That vnto thee will not obey.
Since that for those of sinfull trade
Full many scourges there be made,
Well's him that doth in God repose,
Whose mercies may his soule enclose.
Be therefore ioyfull in our Lord,
All that to righteousnesse accord;
Let ech with gladnesse beare his part,
That hath a pure and perfect hart.
All glory be, O Lord, to thee,
And to thy Sonne in like degree,
As also to the Holy Ghost
Perpetuall and enduring most.

Domine ne in furore.

WHen my misdeeds, ô God,
may thee to anger mooue,
Amids the rigour of thy rage,
vouchsafe me not reprooue.
Nor when for my offences
thy chastisement must be,
In thy displeasure, ô deare Lord,
let it not light on me.
Thy mercies Lord I craue,
of strength I am bereft;
O salue the sorenesse, that my sinne
vpon my bones hath left.
My much aggrieued soule,
my sorrowes doth abound:
How long, O Lord, shall they endure,
or comfort be vnfound?
O turne thy selfe to me,
and rid my soule of paine,
Euen for thy mercies which exceed,
and euer doe remaine.
O hasten thee, O Lord,
to saue and set me free:
Amongst the dead (to their auaile)
there's none can thinke on thee.
And in the depth of hell,
where there is no redresse,
Who is it that will giue thee praise,
or vnto thee confesse?
My sighings for my sinnes
haue past in painfull wise,
And I each night will wash my bed
with teares of wailing eies.
My sight is vext with feare
of furie in thy rage,
O that my sinnes must be my foes
to weare me out in age.
Away, away from me,
all yee that are vniust:
Let him my wofull sound receaue.
in whom I put my trust.
That I with ioy may say,
how to my suites accord,
Vouchsafed hath to condiscend
my deare and louing Lord.
Let shame my foes befall,
and vexed let them be,
Their owne conuersion, or their shame,
Lord, let them quickly see.
Glory, ô God to thee,
and vnto Christ thy sonne,
As also to the holy Ghost,
let endlesly by done.

CHAP. XIIII. Memoratiues.

THe darts of lust are the eyes; and therefore fixe not thy eye on that which thou mayest not desire.

Opportunity kindleth the fire of concu­piscence.

In all temptations it is safer to flie, than to fight with Satan.

[Page]Shun occasion of doing euill, and thou hast halfe ouer [...] him.

Affections are the feet of the minde; and therefore set [...]atch ouer them, left they make hir miscary.

Examine thy thoughts. If thou findest them to be good; [...]re is the spirit: Quench not the spirit. If bad; forbid [...] entrance: for once admitted, they straightwayes for­ [...]e and are expelled with more difficultie, than not ad­ [...]tted.

Epicurisme is the fewell of lust; the more thou addest, [...] more she is inflamed.

There is no moment of time spent, which thou art not [...]untable for, and therefore, when thou hearest the clocke [...]ike, thinke there is now another houre come whereof [...]ou art to yeeld a reckoning; and by endeuouring to end one houre better than another, thou shalt come to me better perfection in Christianity.

He that considereth the ioyes of heauen that good men [...]pect, or the dread of torments which the bad shall suffer, [...]ll hardly sinne.

The end of a dissolute life is a desperate death. There as neuer president to the contrary, but in the theefe in the [...]ospell: In one, le [...]t any should despaire: in one alone, lest [...] should presume.

Thinke from whence thou camest, and blush: where [...]ou art, and sigh: and tremble to remember whither thou [...]alt goe.

Desperate thoughts are fit for such as feare shame, and [...]ot for such as hope for credit.

Euill thoughts are the diuels harbingers: for he lodgeth [...]ot, but where they prouide his entertainment.

The whole world is as an house of exchange, in which Fortune is the nurse that breeds alteration.

Mishap is the touchstone of friendship, and aduersity [...]he triall of friends.

Indifferent equality is safest superiority.

[Page]Where proportion keeps not the doore, there confusio [...] will quickly enter.

Where passions encrease, complaints multiply.

It is neither freedome to liue licentiously, nor liberty to liue without labour.

Labour in youth, giues strong hope of rest in olde age.

Carefulnesse and diligence are the keyes of certeinty.

A malefactor hath feare for his bedfellow, care for hi [...] companion, and the sting of conscience for his torment.

In contention, aduised patience, and opportunity well ta [...]ken, are the best weapons of aduantage.

Thanks waxe olde when gifts are had in possession.

So giue, as that thou mayest alwayes be giuing, and ne [...]uer be sayd to haue done giuing.

Giue to the poore, but not beyond thy power.

If thou giuest a benefit, keepe it close; but if thou rece [...]uest one, publish it: for that inuites another.

Let thy wit be thy friend, thy minde thy companion, th [...] tongue thy seruant.

Let vertue be thy life, valour thy loue, honour thy fame and heauen thy felicity.

In differences rather chuse to purchase by perswasion than to enioy by violence.

He that leaues his wife a goldefinch, may hap at his re [...]turne finde hir a wagtaile.

On the anuill of vpbraiding is forged the office of vn [...]thankfulnesse.

True nobility descending from ancestry proues base [...] present life continue not thy dignity.

The longer we delay to shew our vertue, the stronge [...] the presumption that we are guiltie of base beginning.

Who may doe all that he will, will doe that which h [...] should not.

Let thy speech be the shadow of thy deed.

He is not woorthy to finde the trueth, that deceitful [...] seeks hir.

[Page] [...]ocencie groweth in despight of oppression.

[...]ominion is alwayes attended by enuy.

[...]ortune is alwayes a friend to a froward minde.

He neuer giues in vaine that giues in zeale.

Courtesie is the true character of a good minde.

Anger is the cradle of courage.

Looking eyes haue liking hearts.

Trueth is the centre of religion.

Dominion is safest, where obedience is best nouri­ [...]d.

Let the eyes be sentinels of the body.

By being silent, thou shalt both know other mens imper­tions, and conceale thine owne.

Charity and humility purchase immortality.

Age may gaze at beauties blossomes, but youth climbes tree and enioyes the fruit.

Death is the tribute all flesh must pay.

He dies most willingly that liued most honestly.

Who liues to die, dies to liue.

Time is the herald of Trueth: and Trueth the daughter Time.

Who climbes by priuie sinne, shall fall with open [...]me.

Who swimmes in vice, will sinke in vanity.

The yoong man may die quickly, but the olde man can liue long.

The chiefe properties of wisedome are to be mindfull of [...]gs past, carefull of things present, prouident of things [...]ome.

The longer God stayeth, not finding amendment, the [...] he scourgeth when he come to iudgement.

Whoso passeth many yeeres, and purchaseth little profit, [...] had a long being, and a short life.

Let thy apparell be cleanly without singularitie: thy [...]ch such as may mainteine loue and win affection.

Vse such affabilitie and conuenient complements, as [Page] common ciuilitie and vsuall courtesie most requireth, with­out making thy selfe too cheape to thy friend, or him too deare to thee.

Be not at any time idle. Alexanders souldiers should scale molehilles rather than rest vnoccupied: it is the wo­man that sitteth still, that imagineth mischiefe: it is the rol­ling stone that riseth cleane, and the running water that re­maineth cleare.

Standing water is soonest frozen, and he that sitteth still is quickliest ouercome with sleepe.

Thoughts are the buddes of the minde; and words the blossomes of their desires; and deeds the fruits of their e­uent: and therefore he that will not suffer ill thoughts to fructifie, must crop them in the bud.

There be foure good mothers haue foure bad daugh­ters: Trueth hath Hatred; Prosperity hath Pride; Security hath Perill; and Familiarity hath Contempt.

He that refuseth to take counsell good cheape, buyes re­pentance too deare.

Let thy loue hang on thy hearts bottome, not on thy tongues brimme.

Mistrust no man without cause, neither be credulous without proofe.

Suspition may enter a false action, but it is proofe brings in the good plea.

When we are most miserable, then Gods grace is most fauourable.

Who thinkes before he doe, thriues before he thinke.

A peruerse man is like a sea crab that alwaies swimmes a­gainst the streame.

Wisedome is that Oliue that springeth from the heart, bloometh on the tongue, and beareth fruit in the actions.

The end of trecherie is to haue no trust.

He that makes a question where there is no doubt, must take an answer where there is no reason.

[Page]Where marriage rides on the saddle, repentance will be on the crupper.

Before thou sleepe, apparell thy remembrance with that thou didst waking.

It is lesse paine to learne in youth, then to be ignorant in old age.

Better not to be, then to be slaue to passion.

Innocency is the best good, and a guilty conscience the woorst euill.

Humilitie raiseth when fortune depresseth.

He receiues a benefit that bestowes it woorthily:

Curtesie in maiestie bindes affection in dutie.

Delay in punishment is no priuiledge of pardon.

The law of feare is melted by Christ in the mould of loue.

Euerie man is the workeman of his fortune, and fashio­neth hir according to his maners.

[...] is that mishap whereby we passe to better perfe­ctio [...]

[...] that contenteth is best riches.

Death and misfortune come soone inough if slow [...]nough.

So loue as thou maiest hate.

So hate as thou maiest loue, and both without chal­lenge.

Opinion iudgeth that the best, that it least enioieth.

Iudges opinions make suites immortall.

[...] g [...]od beliefe bringeth foorth a good life.

[...] greater comfort then to know much: no lesse labour [...].

No [...] misery then to fall into vnknowen miserie.

[...] breedeth ignorance, and aduersitie bringeth foorth knowledge.

He cannot iudge of pleasure, that neuer tasted paine.

He findes best helpe in aduersitie, that seekes it in pro­speritie.

[Page]The man is happiest that liueth least his owne, and most his neighbours.

A little streame driues a light mill.

A small summe paies a short reckoning.

Giue a lazie clarke a leane fee.

In little medling lieth much rest.

Where opportunitie opens the shop dore, the ware is best sold.

A wanton eie lighteth where it leueleth.

Iealousie is the herbinger of disdaine.

He that will stirre affection in others, must shew passion in himselfe.

Lingering is lothsome where necessitie requireth haste.

Carelesse men are euer neerest their owne harme.

After the vnlawfull getting of a couetous father, soone followeth the riotous spending of a prodigall sonne.

The vertue of a prince is the chiefest authoritie of his magistrate.

A milde answer reconciles displeasure.

A wanton eie is the messenger of an vnchast heart.

There is nothing swifter decreasing, then youth while it is increasing.

The soule is the greatest thing in the least continent.

Let the limits of thy power, be the bounds of thy will.

A faire woman is a paradise to the eie, a purgatorie to the purse and a hell to the soule.

The death of an euill man is the safetie of a good man.

What harme the heart doth thinke, and hand effect, that will the worme of conscience betray.


THE BALLAD, OR; Some Scurrilous Reflections In Verse, On the PROCEEDINGS of the Honoura­ble HOUSE of COMMONS: ANSWERED STANZA by STANZA.

WITH THE Memorial, Alias Legion, REPLY'D TO Paragraph by Paragraph.

London, Printed by D. EDWARDS, and Sold [...] Booksellers of London and Westminster.


THO' the Design of this Publication is of so commendable a Nature in its self, as to need nothing to be said in fa­vour of it; yet it may not be amiss, to make some Reflections in Prose, when the Ballad has escap'd the Censure of Verse, and take notice of the Clemency of those Gentlemen its Presumptious Author taxes with Cruelty.

We have seen, these two or three days last past, Papers publickly cry'd about, that dar'd the Face of Authority, and the Mem­bers abus'd that compose that Venerable As­sembly that sat for the Redress of our Griev­ances, and has been employ'd in asserting our Right and Liberties; yet has their Patience been such, as to shew us regard to those A­buses which bore none to Truth, and pass by Calumnies they were sensible the Good Laws they had oblig'd us with, could not deserve.

Whosoever the two Authors are, the scur­rilous pieces of Scandal that comes from 'em, [...] Impudence enough in 'em to be call'd [...] [Page] liament thought 'em beneath their notice, I could not but think my self oblig'd to send some Remarks of mine to keep 'em Compa­ny, since all the People of England are scandaliz'd in the Persons of those that re­present us.

And tho' I may not probably make such a Figure in Metre, as this Champion of Quality, or the Prose defender of Rebellion; I am certain I have spoken more Truth, and am ready to own my self to be of the same order of Men, which their way of writing points them out to be of. For if they are of that House they write in defence of, I dare affirm them to be the most unmannerly P—rs living; but his Stanza's are of such a Complexion, and his mercinary Paragraphs have such an unsavoury Tincture that I could not but think 'em two of our suburbian Hirelings; And as such, I have endeavour'd to treat 'em.

THE Ballad, &c.

YE True-born Englishmen proceed
Our trifling Crimes Detect,
Let the Poor Starve, Religion Bleed,
The Dutch be damn'd, the French succeed,
And all by your Neglect.
Ye Slaves who make it your Pretence
To seek the Nations Good,
And cant, and snarl, and give Offence
To Men of Honesty and Sense,
At all Dissemblers shou'd.
Your Actions all the World disgust,
The French are only glad,
Your Friends your Honesty distrust,
And while you think you're Wise and Just,
The Nation thinks you mad.
Speak Truth for once, and feeely own
The Iustice of their Cause
That never Parliament was known
To be more faithful to the Throne,
Or made more wholesom Laws.
Are these the ways your Wisdom takes.
To raise our Reputation?
To Quarrel at a few Mistakes
While France their own Advantage makes,
And laughs at all the Nation.
[...] Councillors preside,
And publick harms propose,
The way to humble France's Pride
Is certainly to have 'em try'd
That we may know our Foes.
You are the People who of Old
The Nations Troops disbanded,
And now you should your Friends uphold,
Your Friends and you are bought and sold,
As always was intended.
When all the Fears of War were pass'd
And Peace was dearly gain'd
Our Money ran away so fast,
We must have sold our selves at last,
Had we those Troops maintain'd.
There's none but Fools in Time to come
Will Trust the English Nation;
For if they do they know their Doom,
That we'll be falling out at Home
And baulk their Expectation.
However when a Neighbr'ing Shore
Demanded promis'd Aid,
They sent ten thousand Warriors o're,
Keeping the Faith they gave before,
And whom they sent they pay'd.
You are the Nations Grand Defence
Against Illegal Power;
And yet against both Law and Sense,
And sometimes too without pretence
You send Folk to the Tower.
And a [...] the Dutys of their Place
Were to detect Abuses,
Corruption durst not shew its Face,
Or Monies spent in any Case
In Bribes or evil Vses,
Some Lords your Anger have incurr'd
For Treaty of Partition,
But if you'll take the Nations word,
Most People think it was Absurd
And empty of Discretion.
The Treaty of Partition must
Without all Doubt have faults,
If we can Lord or Commons trust
Who voted Both it was unjust,
And spoke the Nations thoughts.
For if that [...] 'tis fam'd,
Gave part of Spain to Gaul,
Why should those Gentlemen be blam'd
When you your selves are not asham'd
To let 'em take it All?
Then how ran they be faultless who,
Gave Counsel to divide,
Or it in any sense he true,
That [...] steps pursue,
That take the Austrian side,
Bribes and ill Practices you found
And some few felt your Power,
But soon you [...] your selves aground
For had you push'd the [...] round,
You all [...] gone to th' Tower.
Shepherd, and the Tooth-drawing Squire
Who'd be a Legislator,
When Burgesses let out to Hire
Would gratify a Knaves desire
Know quite another Matter.
Some Reformation has from you,
In vain been long expected,
For when you should your Business do,
Your private Quarrels you pursue,
And the Nation lies neglected.
The Rights of those they represent
Should ne're be yielded by 'em.
And as they Articles have sent,
The P [...]ers might hold themselves content,
And by known Rules to try 'em.
Long has the Kingdom bore the weight
Of your deficient Fu [...]d [...],
That Parliamentary publique cheat.
Pray where's the difference of that
And Plundering with Dragoons?
Long has the Kingdom shewn its Zeal.
And been at vest Expen [...]es.
To forward good of Common-weal
And given Money, Hand and Seal,
To prove 'twas in its Senses.
Are you the People that complain
Of Arbitrary Power?
Then shew the Nation if you can,
Where Kings have been, since Kings began,
Such Tyrants [...] you are.
Yet have some Miscreants ta'ne the parts.
Of Patriots misguided,
And curs'd the Men that had the Hearts
To take to those, who studied Arts,
That with their Country sided.
When Kings with right and Law dispense,
And set up Power despotick,
It has been counted Law and Sense
To take up Arms against our Prince,
And call in aids Exotick.
It's thought a Business now of great,
And wond'rous Reputation,
To ruin us and help the State,
While Nobles Sin at any Rate,
And Beggar half the Nation.
But you, although your Powers depend
On every Plowman's Vote,
Beyond the Law that Power extend,
To ruin those you should defend,
And sell the Power you bought.
And as their Priviledge takes Rise
From Men of Low Condition,
To study ev'ry thwarting Vice,
That may bring twelve Pence to a Sice,
And hinder Coalition.
Is it for this we must be thought,
Strange insolent Pretenders,
Whilst poor unthinking Lords are caught
And vindicate that sorry thought
That clears impeach'd Offenders.
The King Religion did Commend
To you his Law-Explainers,
We know not what you may intend,
Nor how you should Religion mend,
Unless you will your Manners.
A Pious King may recommend
Good Statutes to Law-givers;
But how can Nobles who pretend
Religious Matters to befriend,
Do good while such Bad Livers?
You are the Nations darling Sons,
The Abstract of our Mobb,
For City Knights and Wealthy Clowns,
Stock Jobbers, Statesmen and Buffoons,
You may defie the Globe.
It's true the Common's all are Chose,
By Common-People's Charters.
But every living Creature knows,
No Souls are thought such Common Foes,
As Coronets and Garters.
Toland insults the Holy Ghost,
Brib'd S—r bribes accuses,
Good Manners and Religion's lost,
The King who was your Lord of Host,
The Raskal H—w abuses.
S—rs to his Immortal Fame
Has heard his Crimes repeated,
And naval O—d to his Shame,
Has got a Conscientious Name
By being false acquitted.
Your Statesmen G—lle with intent
To cultivate with Care,
The dignity of Parliament,
Plyes closely at the Dancing tent,
And manages May-Fair.
Bola H—m has utter'd words,
Audacious in Committee,
And giv'n Affronts to those whose Swords,
Were full as sharp as any Lords,
And Sentences as witty.
The True Born Heroes diligence
For publique good appears,
There he refines his Wit and Sense
That the next day in our defence
May fill Committee Chairs.
Tho' G—lle has been lately bought
And Country left for Court,
And C—tts to shew he valued nought,
That was Vnparliamentary thought
Attended Lords Report.
The limitation of the Crown
Is your Immediate care,
If your Wise Articles go down,
Your Power will be so Lawless grown,
'Tis no matter who's the Heir.
If the Succession Bill restrain's
All Arbitrary Notions,
Had Men, or Gratitude, or Brains,
They'd fairly thank 'em for their Pains,
And praise such useful Motions.
Did we for this depose our Prince,
And Liberty assume,
That you should with our Laws dispense,
Commit Mankind without Offence,
And Govern in his Room?
Our Prince has been depos'd for things
Of fatal Consequences;
But he that this poor inference brings
That they who chose one since, are Kings,
Must needs be out of's Senses.
You shou'd find out some other word
To give the Crowns Accepter,
To call him King wou'd be Absurd,
For tho' he'll seem to wear the Sword,
'Tis you have got the Scepter.
Senates think fit for publick good
To bridle Regal Power,
And make Kings act as Monarchs shou'd,
That spare their Subjects Wealth and Blood,
Not those they Rule devour.
And now your wrath is smoaking hot
Against the Kent Petition,
No Man alive can tell for what,
But telling Truths which pleas'd you not,
And taxing your Discretion.
If Men of Kent Petitions draw,
And idly vote Supplies,
Instead of those who make the Law,
The Gate House, or some Bedlam Straw,
Must serve to make 'em Wise.
If you those Gentlemen detain
By your unbounded Power,
'Tis hop'd you'l never more complain
Of Bishops in King Iames's Reign,
Sent blindly to the Tower.
The Bishops were close Prisoners made,
By reason of their Conscience,
But these Impertinents, affraid
A War would spoil their Owling Trade,
Are shut up for their Nonsence.
A strange Memorial too there came,
Your Members to affront,
Which told you Truths you dare not Name,
And so the Paper scap'd the Flame,
Or else it had been burnt.
The House had other Fish to fry,
When Legions Libel came,
Then to sit talking o're a Lye,
Which had been punish'd, by the By,
Had th' Author sent his Name.
Some said the Language was severe,
And into Passion flew,
Some too began to curse and swear,
And call'd the Author Mutineer,
But all Men said 'twas true.
The Language certainly was such
As shew'd the Writers breeding,
And for Civility kept touch
With those, it would defend, the Dutch,
That use such rough Proceeding.
But oh! the Consternation now
In which you all appear!
'Tis plain from whence your terrors [...]le [...]
For had your guilt been less you knew,
So would have been your fear.
And since such falshoods were giv'n out,
By those who wish'd 'em Evil,
Twas time for them to look about,
And to prevent the Rabble Rout,
Since Mob's a very Devil.
In Fifteen Articles you're told
You have our Rights betray'd,
Banter'd the Nation, bought and sold
The Liberties you shou'd uphold;
No wonder you're afraid.
Five Hundred Articles might shew
What Malice could devise,
But had those Articles been true,
And worthy of a Publick view,
Their Votes had made 'em Lyes.
And now to make your selves appear
The more Impertinent,
A wise Address you do prepare,
To have His Majesty take care
Rebellion to prevent.
Addresses at a time when those
They wisely represent,
Are threatn'd by the Kingdoms Foes,
Who wou'd have Brethren come to Blows,
Are needful by Consent.
No doubt His Majesty will please
To take your Cause in hand,
Besides the work is done with ease,
Full Seven thousand Men he has
The Nation to defend.
His Majesty has taken care
To Guard us at their Motion,
And where we've Fleets without compare,
Seven thousand Men are very fair,
When they command the Ocean.
Our Hundred Thousand Heroes more
Do our Train'd Bands compose,
If foreign Forces shou'd come o're,
Plant them and you upon the Shoar,
How bravely you'l oppose.
There's no great likelihood appears
Of Forreigners Invasion,
Since Rook around the Channel steers,
And Troops enough to quell those Fears,
Are ready on Occasion.
Then blush ye Senators to see
How all Men stand dismay'd,
The Nation shou'd so patient be,
To bear withal your Villany,
And see themselves betray'd.
Then blush, vile, murm'ring Scribe at [...]ight
Of what you cannot prove,
And see whilst you Invectives write,
How Senators contemn your spight,
And gain the Nations Love.
It was our Freedom to defend,
That We the People chose you,
And We the People do pretend
Our power of Choosing may extend
To punish and depose you.
We Apples cry'd the Horse-Turds, who
Were nought, but common Dung.
So We the People's us'd by you,
Who never had perhaps to do
With Choosing Right or Wrong.
For since in vain our Hopes and Fears,
Petitions too are vain,
No Remedy but this appears,
To pull the House about your Ears,
And send you home again.
But softly, Friend, 'twixt you and me,
This would for Truth be known
Shou'd any be so bold, he'd see
Their Ear would stand, and such as he,
Would probably have none.
These are the Nations Discontents,
The Causes are too true,
The Ploughman now his Choice repents,
For tho' he values Parliaments,
He's out of Love with You.
That Ploughman neither must have Wit
Or sense of growing Favours,
Who does not wish and think it fit,
Such Patriots shou'd for ever sit,
And perfect their Endeavours.
When to be chose with Caps in hand
You courted every Voice,
You were our Servants at Command.
By which it seems you understand,
Until we made our Choice.
If things were rightly understood,
You'd be in other Story,
And freely own, as Sinners shou'd,
They're forced to beg to do us Good,
And forward Englands Glory.
If that be true, we let you know
Upon that very Score,
You'd best your present Hours bestow
In all the Mischiefs you can do,
For we'll ne're choose you more.
Scriblers may Write what Scriblers please,
And threatning Periods use,
But such poor Animals as these
Are of such Pennyless Degrees,
They haue no Right to Chuse.


Mr. S—R.

THE Memorial you are Charg'd with, in the be­half of many Thousands of the good People of England.

There is neither Popish, Jacobite, Seditious, Court, or Party Interest concern'd in it; but Honesty and Truth.

You are commanded by Two Hundred Thousand En­glishmen, to deliver to the H—c of C—s, and to in­form them that it is no Banter, but Serious Truth; and a Serious Regard to it is expected; nothing but Iustice, and their Duty is required, and it is required by them who have brth a Right to Require, and Power to Com­pel, viz. the People of England.

We could have come to the House Strong enough to Ob­lige them to hear us, but we have avoided any Tumults, not desiring to Embroil, but to Save our Native Country.

If you refuse to communicate it to them, you will find cause in a short time to Repent it.

To R—t H—y Esq S—r to the H—e of C—s, These.



THE Enclosed Libel, to which its Author gives the Name of a Memorial, bears so little propor­tion to the Sentiments of the People, and has so small an Argument with either Honesty or Truth, that not one of the Good People of England, tho' he boasts of many Thousands, can be concern'd in it.

As it is written in favour of the Proceedings of a certain Body of Men, who would stretch the Pow­er of Greatness beyond its due length, and would take off from those Authorities of Parliament, which have been so generously Asserted in the Days of our Fore-fathers, so 'tis hop'd the next Sessions [...] those Worthy Persons who Generously [Page 28] Stand up for the Privileges of the Commons of England, an Opportunity of going thro' with so laudable a design as the Punishment of evil Coun­cillors, the Promotion of the King's Honour, and Advancement of the Publick Good.

And you may be assur'd you shall not want those to stand by you, who have entrusted you with the Defence of their Rights, and Liberties, notwith­standing the Numbers which a Prerogative Party may threaten You with; since the People of England's Honour is concern'd in the Violation of that of their Representatives, and we ought to vindicate the Proceedings of those Gentlemen that would bring the Betrayers of their Country to publick Justice.

To the H—ble R— [...] H—y Esq S—r of the H— of C—

The Memorial.
To the K—r, C—s, and B—s in P—t Assembled. A Memorial. Legion.

From the Gentlemen, Free-holders and Inhabitants of the Counties of— in the behalf of themselves, and many Thousands of good People of England.

It were to be wish'd you were Men of that Tem­per, and possess'd of so much Honour, as to bear with the Truth, tho' it be against you: Especially from us who have so much Right to tell it you: but since even Petitions to you from Your Masters, (for such are the People who Chose you) are so Haughtily receiv'd, as with the Committing the Authors to Illegal Custody; you must give us leave to give you this fall Notice of your Misbehaviour, without Exposing our Names.

An. To shew us what sort of Truths the House of Commons are desir'd to bear with, the Libeller [...] being their Repre­sentatives [Page 29] Masters, because they Chose 'em, which is altogether as false, as if he should say they are His Majesty's Superiors, on account of their Invest­ing him with the Royal Authority. A sort of an Assertion he might well be asham'd of, and for that Reason forbear to expose his Name on account of it.

Le. If you think fit to rectifie your Error, you will do we [...]l, and possibly may hear no more of us; but if not, assure your selves the Nation will not long hide their Resentment. And tho' there are no stated Pro­ceedings to bring you to your Duty, yet the great Law of Reason says, and all Nations allow, that whatever Power is above Law, is Buthensome and Tyrannical; and may be Reduc'd by Extrajudicial Methods: You are not above the Peoples Resent­ment,, they that made you Members, may reduce you to the same Rank from whence they chose you, and may give you a Taste of their abused Kind­ness, in Terms you may not be pleas'd with.

Ans. Power above Law is allow'd to be Burthensom, &c. but a Power that goes hand in hand with it (as theirs does) is of a different Nature; and if the People have a Right of Unmaking, alias dissolving Parliaments, they are upon the same Level with the Prince, which seems wholly contradictory to the De­sign of this pretended Memorial.

Le. When the People of England Assembl'd in Con­vention, Presented the Crown to His present Majesty, they annexed a Declaration of the Rights of the People, in which was Express'd what was Illegal and Arbitrary in the former Reign, and was claim­ed as of Right to be done by Succeding Kings of England.

In like manner, here follows, Gentlemen, a short Abridgement of the Nations Grievances, and of your Illegal and Unwarrantable Practices; and a Claim of Right which we make in the Name of our Selves, and such of the good People of England, as are justly Alarm'd at your Proceedings.

Ans. The Convention made their Claim of Right for the sake of the People▪ but [Page 30] our Male content enters his, on purpose to set 'em to­gether by the Ears; and tho' he has no Grievances to be Redress'd in relation to the Gentlemen he makes his Address to, yet it may be observable, he tacitely owns the Superiority of them he call'd the People's Servants, by this Impudent Remonstrance.

Le. To raise Funds, for Money, and Declare by borrowing Clauses, that whosoever Advances Mo­ney on those Funds, shall be Re-imburs'd out of the next Aid, if the Funds fall short; and then give Subsequent Funds, without Transferring the Deficiency of the former, is a horrible Cheat on the Subject who lent the Money; a Breach of Pu­blick Faith, and destructive to the Honour and Cre­dit of Parliaments.

Ans. The raising Funds by such Unanimous Re­solutions and quick Dispatches, without burthening the Subject should have more grateful Returns: and we must acknowledge the Deficiency of Funds to be the Effect of their Compassion, as their Endea­vours to make 'em good, are to be attributed to their great Love of Justice.

Le. To Imprison Men who are not your own Mem­bers, by no Proceedings but a Vote of the House, and to continue them in Custody, Sine die, is Illegal; a Notorious Breach of the Liberty of the People; Setting up a Dispensing Power in the House of Commons, which your Fathers never pretended to; bidding Defiance to the H [...]beas Corpus Act, which is the Balwark of Personal Liberty, destructive of the Laws, and Betraying the Trust repos'd in you. The King at the same time being oblig'd to continue in Custody the Horrid Assassinators of his Person.

Ans. The Right of Parliaments to commit Of­fenders and punish their Delinquencies, has been deduc [...]d to 'em from their Ancestors, and has so many Presidents for their Justifications; that no Person who had any Remembrance of former Pro­ceedings would question it: and how the King was forc'd to Petition them to continue the Conspira­tors on Custody, when they mov'd His [...] I can't possibly prevail with my [...].

[Page 31] Le. Committing to Custody those Gentlemen, who at the Command of the People (whose Ser­vants you are) did in Peaceable way put you in mind of Petitioning for Redress of Grievances, which has by all Parliaments before you, been ac­knowledg'd to be their undoubted Right.

Ans. If Gentlemen turn intermeddla [...]s with what concerns them not, and set up for their Councillor's Advisers, they ought to be made sensible of their Faults, and brought to a sense of their Duty.

Le. Voting a Petition from the Gentlemen of Kent Insolent, is Ridiculous and Impertinent, be­cause the Free-holders of England are your Superi­ors; and is a Contradiction in it self, and a Con­tempt of the English Freedom, and contrary to the Nature of Parliamentary Power.

Ans. To call an Audacious Petition Insolent, is to give it his true Name; and to say the Parliament are the Nations Servants, otherwise than the Mem­bers of it are Volunteers to do it Service, has no­thing but downright Falshood in it.

Le. Voting People guilty of Bribery and Ill Pra­ctices, and Committing them, as aforesaid, without Bail, and then upon Submission, and kneeling to your House, discharging them; Exacting Exorbi­tant Fees by your Officers, is Illegal, Betraying the Justice of the Nation, Selling the Liberty of the Subject, encouraging the Extortion and Villany of G [...]olers and Officers; and discontinuing the Legal Prosecution of Offenders in the ordinary Course of Law.

Ans. There Votes were founded upon Substanti­al Proofs, and their release of the Persons brib'd, upon the utmost Compassion. And paying the ac­custom'd Fees, as regulated by Authority of Par­laments, is so far from being an Exaction, that it would be an Injury to the Subject, should they give 'em away from them who had purchas'd 'em.

Le. Prosecuting the Crime of Bribery in some to serve a Party, and then proceed no farther, tho' Proof lay before you, is Partial and Unjust; and a Scandal upon the Honour of Parliaments.

[Page 32] Ans. Their Delay in bringing Matters to Severity against the Persons accus'd, proceeded from their earnest Desire to preserve that People, some of which rais'd these Clamours against them.

Le. Voting the Treaty of Partition Fatal to Eu­rope, because it gave so much of the Spanish Domi­nions to the French, and not concerning your selves to prevent their Possession of it all. Deserting the Dutch when the French are at their Doors, till it be almost too late to help them; is Unjust to our Trea­ties, and unkind to our Confederates, Dishonour­able to the English Nation, and shews you very neg­ligent of the Safety of England, and of our Prote­stant Neighbours.

Ans. If they Voted the Treaty of Partition Fatal to Europe, the Effect of it Justified their proceed­ings; and the timely Assistance they sent the Dutch, has been acknowledg'd by His Majesty, as the only Means to preserve the Ballance of Europe, which is directly contrary to this Assertion.

Le. Ordering immediate Hearings to trifling Petitions, to please Parties in Elections; and Post­poning the Petition of a Widow for the Blood of her. Murther'd Daughter, without giving it a reading: is an illegal Delay of Justice, and dishonourable to Publick Justice of the Nation.

Ans. To gratifie the Desires of whole Bodies of Men, ought to be preferable to the Encourage­ment of an idle Womans Petition, that had nothing in it against a Gentleman of establish'd Repuation, who had been Honourably Acquitted by due course of Law.

Le. Addressing the King to displace his Friends upon bare Surmises, before a Legal Tryal or Arti­cle prov'd, is Illegal, and Inverting the Law, and making Execution go before Judgment; contrary to the true Sense of the Law, which esteems every Man a good Man till something appears to the con­trary.

Ans. When the King for want of Advice, and a due knowledge of our English Constitutions, en­tertain [...] those for Favourites, that are approv'd E­nemies [Page 33] to the English Reputation, 'tis but just to petition for their removal: and His Majesty's dis­placing of 'em, would be nothing like Execution before Judgment; since Judgments upon Impeach­ments, are Imprisonments and pecuniary.

Le. Delaying the Proceedings upon Capital Im­peachments, to blast the Reputation of the Persons, without proving the Fact; is Illegal and Oppressive, Destructive of the Liberty of Englishmen, a Delay of Justice, and a Reproach of Parliaments.

Ans. The delay of the Tryals of the Impeach'd Lords might probably lie at another door; and if they'l [...] believe their own Representatives, other Gentlemen occasion'd the Obstruction.

Le. Suffering Sawcy and indecent Reproaches up­on His Majesty's Person to be publickly m [...]de in your House; particularly by that Impudent Scan­dal of Parliaments I—n H—w, without shewing such Resentments as you ought to do. The said I— H—, saying only, That His Majesty had made a Fe­lonious Treaty to rob his Neighbours; insinuating, that the Partition Treaty (which was every way as just as blowing up one Man's House to save anothers) was a Combination to rob the King of Spain of its due. This is making a Billingsgate of the House, and setting to B [...]lly your Soveraign, contrary to the Intent and Meaning of that Freedom of Speech, which you claim as a Right: is scandalous to Parliaments; Undutiful and Unmannetly, and a Reproach to the whole Nation.

Ans. Mr. How might probably out of his great Abhorrence of Injustice; add an Epithet to that Treaty, which the Nature of it deserv'd. But the Reflection was very far from falling on His Majesty, since, the whole House in their Address had wholly laid the Odium of it upon those that advis'd t.

Le. Your S—r Exacting the Exorbitant Rate of 10 l. per Diem for the V—s, and giving the Princes encouragement to raise it on the People, by felling them at 4 d. per Sheet; is Illegal and Arbitrary Ex­ [...]tion, dishonourable to the House, and burthen­ [...]

[Page 34] Ans. If the Speaker is expected to maintain the Dignity of the High Post he has been call'd to by Choice of Parliament, he ought to have the same Allowance as most of his Predecessors, and its none of his Fault that the Votes run at so high a Rate; but the Niggardly Temper of the Printers, whom they ought to discourage by not buying 'em, since he has no such price for them.

Le. Neglecting still to pay the Nations Debts, Compounding for Interest, and Postponing Petitions; is Illegal, Dishonourable, and Destructive of the Publick Faith.

Ans. The Payment of the Nations Debts has taken up a Considerable part of their Care, and the de­struction of the publick Faith can be no other way brought about, than by those that encourage pub­lick Dissentions.

Le. Publickly neglecting the Great work of Refor­mation of Manners, tho' often press'd to it by the King, to the great Dishonour of God, and encouragement of Vice, is a Neglect of your Duty, and an Abuse of the Trust repos'd in you, by God, His Majesty, and the People.

Ans. When such Fellows as our Impudent Au­thor, are beyond any possibility of being Reform'd, it is but flinging away their precious time to make Laws in order to reclaim 'em.

Le. Being Scandalously Vicious your selves, both in your Morals and Religion; Lew'd in Life, and Erroneous in Doctrine, having publick Blasphemers, and Impudent Deniers of the Divinity of our Sa­viour amongst you, and suffering them unreproved and unpunished, to the infinite Regret of all good Christians, and the Just Abhorrence of the whole Nation.

Ans. Then he that pretends to be one of the E­lectors of 'em has made a fine Choice, if Persons of such ill Fame and Morals represent him. But I am of another Opinion; and tho' they have no Lawn Sleeves among 'em, their Choice of Preachers, [...] and Edifying [...]

[Page] Le Wherefore, in the [...] Ruin of our Native Country, while Parliaments (which ought to be the Security and Defence of our Laws and Constitution) betray their Trust and a­buse the People whom they should protect: And no other way being left us but That Force which we are very loath to make use of, that Posterity may know we did not insensibly fall under the Tyranny of a Prevailing Party,

Ans. They have made such provision for the pub­lick Security, that nothing can obstruct it, unless the Jealousies and Fears he disperses among us, has that [...] Effect as to disturb it. And for the making use of Force which he rebelliously threaten's 'em with, their Party, without doubt will be so Prevail­ing, as to be able to repel it with the same violent Methods. We do hereby

Claim and Declare.

Le. That it is the Undoubted Right of the Peo­ple of England, in Case their Representatives in Par­liament do not proceed according to their Duty, and the Peoples Interest, to inform them of their Dislike, disown their Actions, and to direct them to such thinks as they think fit, either by Petition, Ad­dress, Proposal, Memorial, or any other peaceable way.

Ans. The People by the Choice of their Repre­sentatives resign up all their Authority to 'em which they are actually invested with; and whatever Pe­tition, Address, Proposal, Memorial, &c. is repre­sented by them, may be rejected by the aforesaid Power they have given 'em.

Le. That the House of Commons, separately and otherwise than by Bill legally pass'd into an Act, have no Legal Power to suspend or dispense with the Laws of the Land, any more than the King has by his Pre [...]gative.

Ans. There are Precedents from the first Institu­tion of Parliaments to the contrary, and the Re­pea [...] of any Law whatsoever. [...]f not judg'd useful, has been always allow'd to be their Prerogative, which has never been otherwise by those that are [Page] now Members of the House of Commons, other­wise than in Concert with the two other Estates of the Nation.

Le. That the House of Commons have no Legal Power to imprison any Person, or commit them to Custody of Sergeants, or otherwise (their own Mem­bers except) but ought to Address the King, to cause any Perso [...], on good Grounds, to be appre­hended, which Person so apprehended, ought to have the Benefit of the Habeas Corpus Act, and be fairly brought to Tryal by due Course of Law.

Ans. Where would be the punishment of rich Offenders, should the Habeas Corpus Act be allow'd, in Cases of Kentish Petitioners, and other such Inso­lent pretenders to prescribe turning their Addresses into Bills of Supplies to Parliament?

Le. That if the House of Commons, in Breach of the Laws and Liberties of the People, do betray the Trust repos'd in them, and act Negligent or Ar­bitrarily and Illegally, it is the undoubted Right of the People of England to call them to an Account for the same, and by Convention, Assembly of Force may proceed against them as Traytors and Betrayers of their Country.

Ans. Inferiors must not be Judges where Supe­riors are concern'd, and things are not come to such a [...] pass as they were in 48, when even a King Him­self was sentenc'd to Death by the Instigation of the Devil and those he now calls the People.

Le. These things we think proper to declare, as the unquestion'd Right of the People of England, whom you serve, and in pursuance of that Right (avoiding the Ceremony of Petitioning our Inferiors, for such you are by your present Circumstances, as the Per­son sent is less than the Sender) We do publickly pro­test against all your foresaid Illegal Actions, and in the Name of our Selves, and of all the good Peo­ple of England,

Ans. The person sent may be less than the Senders, but when One is to be Chosen into an High Station by his Superiors, the Elected has certainly got the Start of the Electors, and is Superior to those whom he may call The People of England.

[Page] Le. That all the Publick Just Debts of the Nation be forthwith Paid and Discharg'd.

Ans. They'll agree to the Proposal; Will the Per­son that makes the Demand furnish 'em with Ways and Means.

Le. That all Persons illegally imprison'd, as afore­said▪ be either immediately discharged, or admitted to Fail, as by Law they ought; and the Liberty of the Subject Recogniz'd and Restor'd.

Ans. This will also be allow'd, if Sir Positive, can bring any Proof of Persons being Illegally Confin'd.

Le. That I—n H—w aforesaid be obliged to ask His Majesty Pardon for his Vile Reflections, or be immediately Expell'd the House.

Ans. Without doubt, Mr. How is so much a Gen­tleman, as to ask any Man's pardon, if he has wrong'd him.

Le. That the growing power of France be taken into Consideration; the Succession of the Emperor to the Crown of Spain supported, our Protestant Ne [...]ghbours as the true Interest of England, as the protected, Protestant Religion requires.

Ans. The Union of France and Spain has taken up no small part of their Time, and they have been so Speedy as well as Hearty in their Desires to His Majesty to make new Alliances, in order to dis­appoint their Joynt Endeavours, That the Emperor, and all our Protestant Neighbours, cannot but shew their Satisfaction in what they have done.

Le. That the French King be obliged to quit Flan­ders, or that His Majesty be address'd to declare War against him.

Ans. To declare War will be of more Disad­vantage to the Kingdoms than Auxiliary Forces, which are enough to conserve our Reputation a­mongst our Confederates.

Le. That Suitable Supplies be granted to His Maje­sty for the putting all these necessary things in exe­cution, and that care be taken that such Taxes as are raised may be [...]ore equally Assessed and Col­lected, and scandalous Deficiencies prevented.

[Page] Ans. The Supplies have been granted, and His Majesty has thank'd 'em for their ready Concur­rence in Complying with his Desires.

Le. That the Thanks of this House may be given to those Gentlemen who so gallantly appear'd in the the behalf of their Country, with the Kentish Peti­tion, and have been so scandalously used for it.

Ans. They may thank themselves for their Con­finement, in endeavouring to be Representatives of the People themselves, and coming to Affront those who were theirs.

Le. Thus Gentlemen. You have your Duty laid before you, which 'tis hoped you will think of; but if you continue to neglect it, you may expect to be treated according to the Resentment of an injurd Nation; for Englishmen are no more to be Slaves to Parlia­ment, than to a King.

Our Name is Legion, and we are Many.

Ans. Thus, Gentleman, or Plebeian, or whatever thou art, thou hast been a mere Devil in endeavouring to sow the Seeds of Discord among thy Fellow Subjects, and may'st well subscribe with the Name of Legion, which has been made use of in Scri­pture for a Deuil of particular Eminence.

Post Script.

Le. If you require to have this Memorial sign'd with our Names, it shall be done on your first Order, and per­sonally presented.

Ans. You could not Subscribe your Christian Names to such Heathenish Proceeeings; if you had, you wou'd in all likelihood have kept your Fellow Mu­tineers Company in the Gate-house.


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