THeſe words are a part of a prayer, that prayer of a ſtory, a ſtory almoſt as memorable as any, that was ever yet left upon record ſince the creation of man, and that is the deſtruction of Sodom: upon which God indeed commanded the wife of Lot not to look back, Verſ. 17. and her hard heart of unbelief and diſobedience tranſformed her into a pillar of ſtone; ſo that ſhe, that on Gods bidding would not goe, when ſhe would, ſhould now ſtand, ſtand an eternall monument of Gods diſpleaſure againſt the children of diſobedience.

Let it not awaken your wonder, that where the Text ſayes a Pillar of Salt, I ſay of Stone. It is conſonant to reaſon, and the generall voyce of interpreters, that it was Salt rather, quoad ſpeciem, quam naturam ſpecific am, rather in reſemblance of the graine then identitie of the nature: elſe would it never have laſted through ſo many ages and yeers to Ioſephus his time,Ioſephus. Antiquit. Iud. lib. 11. nam extat. (inquit) hodie quoque. who tels us that in his time there was ſtill extant ſuch a Stone, which tradition gave out to be this though then of one Stone it was become two monuments, one of Gods anger againſt the Wife of Lot, and the ſecond of Times devouring teeth, which had delt with this as with many other monuments, whoſe antiquitie we reade by not reading them, and gueſſe at their age and ſtanding by our neither reading nor underſtanding of them.

But of this, we are moſt certain, ſhe was puniſhed for diſobeying, and her diſobedience was in looking back towards Sodom, when God had forbidden her.Luk. 17. 32. But what was to her forbidden is to us commanded to look back upon Sodom. 2 Pet. 2. 6.

All judgements are more for publike example then private revenge, and whatſoever was written, Rom. 15. 4. was written for our inſtruction. Yea and ſure by the qualitie of the judgement, God meant it for publike notice, and therefore God ſent a flaming judgement, that all eyes might ſee it, and by the light of it reade his juſt and fearefull indignation againſt impenitent ſinners: a flaming judgement that it might be the world's Beacon to rouze and ſtartle ſnorting ſecuritie, to awaken to repentance and deteſtation of ſin: a flaming judgement, that men in this might ſee a glimce of hell, and in this temporarie foreſee, and foreſeeing feare, and fearing prevent another which is eternall.

Look then back yee penitent and weeping ſoules, and judge whether is better, to be bathing in thoſe teares, or frying in thoſe flames.

Look back impenitent and relentleſſe wretches, and let your hearts (frozen in the Lees and and Dregs of ſinne) melt and thaw at thoſe flames, and let the horror of ſo prodigious a judgement, work the like effect on you, as on the Wife of Lot to transforme you, that it may be true of you, which was of Nabal, at the tydings of his wife Abgail, that his heart dyed within him and became as a Stone. 1 Sam. 25. 37. 1 Sam. 25. 37.

Look then back and behold prodigions ſinne requited with prodigious puniſhment; unnaturall luſt kindled with the fire of hell, puniſhed with fire that againſt nature rained from heaven. In this behold the ſeverity of God: with no leſſe wonder behold his Mercy. Though for one righteous mans ſake, he will not ſpare Sodom, yet for Sodom will be not deſtroy one righteous man. In this Citie, which was all chaffe and therefore fit fewell for the fire, there was but one ſheafe the familie of Lot, yet God will not deſtroy that,Mat. 3.12. but graciouſly as he promiſeth in his holy Goſpel, ſends his Angels to hinde it together and lay it in the Garner of ſafety, when he burnes the chaffe with fire unquenchable.

Behold the riches of Gods goodneſſe: Rom. 2.4. he might without the leaſt taxe of his juſtice have deſtroyed Lot, who was not ſo righteous but God might have beheld matter of anger in him. He can never want in mans wickedneſſe a patronage and defence of his own juſtice, and though he cannot finde in the worſt of men ſo much goodneſſe as may merit the leaſt bleſſing; yet he cannot miſſe to finde in the beſt of men ſo much evill as may merit the greateſt puniſhment.

Notwithſtanding that good God which is never exceptiouſly apprehenſive of mans infirmitie, nor uſes the advantage of our weakneſſe to ſhew the greatneſſe of his power in puniſhing but mercy in delivering: yea though he (I ſay) doe ſometimes make his temporarie judgements (like his common favours the Sunne and raine) to fall with equall indifferencie on the juſt and unjuſt: Matth. 5.45. yet more often and that eſpecially in notorious and exemplary judgements, the good mans ſingular pietie ſhall finde a ſingular preſervation: and when wrath and judgement (like an univerſall deluge) ſhall ſweepe away a nation, nay a world of wicked men, God ſhall build the righteous an Arke of ſafety: and he that like the Widowed Turtle ſingly mourned when all elſe generally rejoyced in the pleaſures of ſin, ſhall when all howle in the bitterneſſe of torment, ſingly rejoyce for his owne particular deliverance.

A voyce was heard (as Tacitus tels us) Audita major humanae vox, Tacit. hiſt. lib. 5. excedere Deos. Here was more then a voyce, the preſence of Angels, more then their preſence, a zealous fervour and earneſtneſſe, more then an earneſtneſſe, a ſacred violence to ſave Lot. While he lingred (ſaith verſ. 16.) the men laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters, the Lord being mercifull unto him, and they brought him forth and ſet him without the Citie.

Verſ. 17. And it came to paſſe when they had brought him forth abroad, that he ſaid, Eſcape for thy life, look not behinde thee, neither ſtay thou in all the plaine: eſcape to the mountaine leaſt thou be conſumed. Where come in the words of my text; And Lot ſaid unto them, ô not ſo my Lord: Behold now thy ſervant hath found grace in thy ſigh, &c.

The words then you ſee are a prayer, in which obſerve the two naturall parts of every prayer, thankeſgiving and petition.

1. Thankeſgiving in theſe words, Behold now thy ſervant hath found grace in thy ſight, and thou hast magnified thy mercie, which thou haſt ſhewed unto me in ſaving of my life.

The Petition in the reſt of the words.

In the thankeſgiving obſerve.

Firſt the order, that he makes the former ſence of Gods antecedent favour, the firſt and beſt argument to obtain a ſubſequent requeſt; Be pleaſed to learne an holy policie;

That gratitude is the beſt prologue to a requeſt, and a thankfull acknowledgement of a favour received, the beſt way to obtaine another deſired.

We ſend forth our prayers, oftentimes as Noab bis Dove, and both returne emptie;Gen. 8.9. the Dove becauſe all the earth was covered with water, and our prayers becauſe all former favours are drowned in our forgetfulneſſe and ingratitude. We are ſo tranſported with the immoderate deſire of the things we want, that uſually we forget what we have.

Odioſum ſanè hominum genus officia exprobrantium, Citero, qua (ſaith Cicero) commemorare debet is in quem collata ſunt, non commemorare qui contulit. The remembrance of curteſies done, ſounds odiouſly in the mouth of the giver, but gracefully becomes the mouth of the receiver, and to a free ingenuous nature ſhall not onely not be a check, that it ſhall prove a ſpur to a ſecond bounty.

I might here then in the authoritie of Lot's example, be bold to reprove the cuſtomary formes of many mens prayers, in which petition ingroſſes the whole length of their prayers and ſtrength of their devotion, while they (either as no part) exclude thankeſgiving, or (as to a leſſe neceſſary part) give it the laſt and leaſt place, even the expiration of their zeale and prayer. Yet thus it is that like the daughters of the horſe-leech: Prov. 30.50. we are ſtill crying give, give; or like the Gudgeons ever gaping to be fed, but our food obtain'd, ſtops our mouthes; not a word heard in way of thankfulneſſe. As if the things which were worth ſo much importunitie when requeſted, were not worth acknowledgement when obtained.

But from the order of his thank. I come to the matter of it, in which obſerve theſe 4 parts.

A temporall bleſſing, life, beſtowed on a righteous man; yet Gods great grace and mercie acknowledged to be the onely cauſe, yeilds us this concluſion;

That even temporary bleſſings beſtowed on the beſt of men, are of Gods free grace and great mercie, and not at all of mans merit. Or briefly,

The beſt of men cannot merit the worſt of bleſſings. I might eaſily prove it, and as eaſily diſprove the ſaucie boldneſſe of thoſe Romiſh dreamers, who beſides the Ladder of Iacob, Gen. 28.12. Chriſt Ieſus, (whoſe humanitie ſtood on earth and his divinitie reached unto heaven) have found another ladder, even of their owne merits: a ladder that hath not onely perfection of parts but of degrees too, degrees by which they can climbe heaven. Such a one that good Patriarch never ſaw, never dream'd of, neper ſomnium quidem. Nor we need we indeed a better argument againſt them then their owne arrogance, which doth alwayes beare witneſſe againſt it ſelf, and proves thoſe things wanting which it brags to be owner of.Luk. 18.11. Let theſe Phariſees then vaunt themſelves to be higher and neerer heaven then other men, but it may well be thought that rather the lightneſſe of their opinion, then reall and ſolide truth lifts them up to this height, that they think themſelves higheſt, neereſt heaven,Pſal. 138.6. yet God that is in heaven beholdeth them a farre off.

Let us rather imitate the humilitie of the truly good man, whoſe prayers are ſo farre from that odious theam of aſſuming merit, that none ſo much, none ſo frequent in imploring mercy.

But this point being Polemicall, let me leave it to the Lords worthies, and haſt to the ſecond part of my text, Lots petition, which is;

And the reaſon of that is à difficultate conditionis praeſcriptae, the difficultie of the task impoſed, I cannot; proved by a proſillogiſme, Ne fortè aliquod malum capiat & moriar, least ſome evill take me and I dye. Evill behinde me, before me, with me, behinde me from Sodom, before me, in the diſconſolate ſolitarineſſe of an unfrequented mountain; in ſolitarineſs no company, or company worſe then beaſts or men: leaſt I be devoured by wilde beaſts, or rob'd by theeves who are wilde men: or if I be ſecure from the danger of fire behinde me, of the mountaine before me, yet I cannot for the evill with me, the length of the way, therefore I cannot eſcape to the mountaine, ne fortè aliquod malum capiat & moriar, leaſt ſome evill take me and I dye.

Next followes the Affirmative requeſt, where obſerve.

1. The order, that it comes in under the Lee and ſhelter of his arguments, and is ſet downe in a cloſe and Cryphick method, as though indeed it came in by a ſtrong and undoubted conſequence, and rather by way of a neceſſary concluſion then an humble petition. Behold now. (ſayes Lot) this Citie, &c. O let me eſcape thither, viz. to Zoar.

2. Lots Arguments to enforce his requeſt are, 1. à re, and 2. ae perſonâ.

From the thing requeſted or the requeſter himſelf.

1. Are, from the thing requeſted, and that, firſt qualitate, the qualitie of it, ſecondly quantitate, the quantitie of it.

The laſt Argument from him ſelfe requeſting, my ſoule ſhall live, which may have a double meaning, either in oppoſition to the danger of the mountaine, as if he ſhould ſay, in the mountaine my life is many wayes hazzarded, but in this Citie it is ſecured: or it may be expounded of his content here, my ſoule ſhall live, it will be a favor which will afford me much content and felicitie.

For firſt, This Citie is neere to flye unto and it is a little one. This Citie.] Is it a Citie and not the more likely to be ſinfull? It is Bela, a Citie of the Plaines, and not more likely to be in the ſame manner and degree ſinfull?

Secondly is it neere Sodom and not the more dangerous? nay is it neere as well in condition as place? how much more likely to be joyned in puniſhment?

Thirdly is it little? how much more reaſon to be deſtroy'd? For ſaith God to Jonah ſhould not I then ſpare this great Citie Nineveh, wherein are more then ſixeſcore thouſand perſons, that cannot diſcerne betwixt their right hand and their left, and alſo much cattle. Jonah 4.11. How contrary is Gods argument to Lots? God will have a Citie ſpared becauſe it is great, Lot becauſe it is little. But theſe rich and fruitfull plaines had much endeared the heart of the good Patriarch: loath he was to change a Citie, and a plenteous valley for a mountainous and rockie deſert, and therefore though God be his immediate Counſellor, the end his ſafety, yet being intereſted by affection, againſt the authoritie of his Lord, the dutie of a ſervant, the mercie of a deliverer, doth Lot ſtruggle firſt by delayes, and then with forced reaſon to prove Gods Counſell full of danger, as his own requeſt of conveniency and ſafety. Nay ſo farre hath his affection blinded him, worſe then the Sodomites at his doore, for they could not ſee, becauſe the Angels blinded them, Lot could not ſee when the Angels directed him.

I think miſguided, unſanctified reaſon, doth rather breed ſuſpitions then cleere them. Syllogiſmes never compounded controverſies, ſeldome the law friends. There is indeed an abſtracted Logicke, which preſcribes formes and motions, but follow it into the practice of men, it hath ſtill one terme more then it ſhould, affection or paſſion. The Lawyer hath not he his rationem tinnulam for his quartum argumentum? and what wonder then if in a double ſence he commit fallaciam in quatuor terminis.

Nor is it thus onely in our every dayes actions and occurrents, which according to our intereſt reaſon muſt juſtifie or at leaſt excuſe, but as if that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , that circle of Arts, had made them mad too with walkking in it, the Schooles themſelves and Ʋniverſities, have matriculated the ſame dotage. Who would not unſtudie reaſon and befoole all arguments, that ſhould ſee a theſis affirmative proved by many reaſons, his true Negative proved alſo, yet both anſwered, and after a long progreſſe with inquiſition and induſtry, arrive fairely at the ſame point where it begun, and end in the greater doubt? Quid leo eſt, niſi inſanire cum ratione? Whats this but to be a learned foole, and with great labour to make Cob-webs to be ſwept away? Magno conatu • nugas! Would not this (under things of faith) be enough to make a man a Skeptick? Sure we need not, to the native weakneſſe of our underſtanding and reaſon make it more wretched by this ſlavery, and mancipation to our affections and paſſions, unleſſe to a weake eye we would throw in duſt. But I leave them in their maze and come to Lots arguments themſelves to enforce his requeſt, and firſt of the object of his behold; the firſt reaſon of Lots affirmative requeſt, being à qualitate.

This Citie, 'tis a Citie.

In which (as in the reſt of his arguments) I might propoſe to my ſelfe this order. Every argument or reaſon hath veritatem or veritatis ſpeciem.

Firſt then I might ſhew the probabilitie of his argument.

Secondly, the fallacie.

Thirdly, we might draw from either ſome uſe for our ſelves, I might thus improve the matter of my text unto a large compaſſe, if I ſhould dilate particularly pro and con on every of his arguments.

As firſt in this firſt argument that it is a Citie the other a mountaine, I might ſhew you in this one three ſeverall motives to Lots deſire, Plentie, Societie, and Safetie. Then in anſwering theſe againe, I might (without being Heterogeneall) dilate upon the commendation of their oppoſites Povertie and Solitarineſſe, each of which beſides the true determining and moderating of our deſire of theſe, might ſuffice to hold diſcourſe beyond the limits of your patience. But I ſhall content my ſelfe to glance at ſome of theſe, rather then to tye your patience in a long diſcourſe.

Firſt then of Lots firſt argument. This Citie. Tis a Citie, the other a rude and barren mountaine.

This Citie was before time called Bela as appeareth out of Gen. 14.8. untill this occaſion of Lots requeſt, and the reaſon of it, altered the name to Zoar, which ſignifies little, becauſe he ſaid it is a little one, and is it not a little one? It was one of the five Cities of the Plaines, called the Plaines of Jordan, Gen. 13.10. a Valley wherein nature prevented the labour of the induſtrious husbandman, in a voluntarie and unbought fruitfulneſſe, ſo that it needed not to be watered with the ſweat of induſtry to make it fruitfull, but of it ſelfe yeclded to the inhabitants occaſion of idleneſſe, to the neighbours of envy, and to all of wonder. Such a place it was, that it grew to a word exemplary to ſet forth the pride and height of fruitfulneſſe. It was watered like the Garden of God, Gen 13.10. and like the plaines of Jordan before the Lord deſtroyed Sodom.

Here were then three ſtrong attractives to Lots deſire, Plentie, Societie, and Safetie, and in this Citie all theſe three concurre to make life ſecurely happy. Abundance of wealth and delicacies to refreſh the body, abundance of company to delight and cheer the minde, and then ſafety which onely makes the other conſummate in the ſecuritie to enjoy them.

For plentie and riches it is true that Quintillan ſayes,Quint. dialog. de Oratoribus. pag. 689. Divitias facilius eſt ut invenias qui vituperet quam qui contempſerit. Its eaſier to finde a man that will diſpaire them, then that will deſpiſe them, one that can in the Schooles wittily declaime againſt them, rather then one that will diſclaime them. Quis niſi mentis inops? he ſhall preſently be begd for a foole. To ſtand in tire upon his owne bottome and not need to be beholding to any, nay to have all that which ſhall hold all others either in his friendſhip or ſlavery. O it is ſupremum mortalitatis votum, & locus diis proximus, it is the higheſt condition mortality can be capeable of, and riches give it. Moſt of the ſtudies, inventions, toiles, travels and undertakings of men aime at this one end, to be rich. Heaven it ſelf is but too often made the price of this purchaſe: Men goe there to fetch gold, where they looſe heaven and day; itum eſt viſcera terrae, into the bowels of the earth; deeper, into hell. This Image of Caeſar cauſeth an univerſall idolatry, and to that ſuperſcription all ſubſcribe.

That Lot then, ſhould deſire to go to this Citie, rather then to a barren and naked mountaine, we need not wonder, unleſſe we wonder that men preferre plenty before poverty. I ſhall be induſtriouſly idle to make more words of ſo confeſs'd a theme.

In that it is a City there is a ſecond attractive, Society, and that is to man as his owne element. Society is the life of our life, and ſolitarineſſe is a very living buriall. I might here move a Problem, why men naturally in remote and ſilent retirements and ſolitudes finde a kinde of horror and affrightfulneſſe?

Is it that as Solomon ſayes of friends, Prov 27.17. they ſtrengthen the faces one of another, ſo our Genius doth receive a mutuall comfort and livelyhood from one anothers preſence, and ſo in this ſolitude (being out of the rayes and circle of their vertue) acknowledges that want in this weakneſſe?

Or doth the ſoule apprehend the preſence of ſome good or evill ſpirit, which are both ready, the one to offend, the other to defend us?

Or is it the reflexe of our owne conſcience upon it ſelfe, which being guilty of ſinne, muſt needs be of feare?

Or is it antipathy of nature, which in this ſees a praeludium of that univerſall ſilence to which all go downe? Siquis aſperitate ea eſt ut congreſſ us & ſocietatem hominum fugiat & oderit, qualem fuiſſe Athenis. Timonem neſcio quem accepim •• s, tamen is pati non poſſit, ut non acquirat aliquem apud quem, &c, Cicero de Amic fol. 220 vide, ſi plac • t plura ibid. What the reaſon of it is, I know not, thus much I am ſure of, that this horror is an evident argument, that man is politicum animal, that in his nature is implanted a love of Society, and that he was as well made for Cities, as Cities for him; ſo that Auchorites and Hermits are gone as farre from mans nature, as they are from his company.

Timon himſelfe, that greateſt Owle of Athens, and prodigie of nature, that profeſs'd an antipathy to all man, nay, to all humanity, yet he (for all his doggedneſſe) as Cicero wittily ſayes of him) could not carere hominum conſortio, apud quos virus acerbitatis ſuae evomeret, he could not want the company of men, though it were but to ſpit the poyſon of his gall upon them.

3. Now for Lots third attractive to the City, which is ſafety, that man ſhould deſire it; needs no more proofe, than that a man loves himſelfe, and it were vaine in me to go about to prove it.

Here then were ſeeming reaſons to juſtifie the lawfulneſſe of his requeſt, and excuſe his unwillingneſſe to obey God's command. But,

From the ſpecious ſhew and waight of thoſe arguments, I come to the fallacie in them: and for anſwer in generall to all, firſt by conceſſion; ſay, 'tis true, ſuppoſe it, that this being a City, is more convenient to fly unto, more comfortable to reſt in, there are thoſe invitations here which in the mountaines are not. But what then? muſt God be obeyed only with our conveniency, and the condition of our ſervice be our owne content? What is this but to make Gods of our ſelves, and to obſerve him only whilſt he will pleaſure us?

Egregiam vero laudem? Virgil.

How much better did afflicted Job: Iob. 2.10. Shall we receive good at Gods hands, and ſhall we not receive evill? What if God commanded thee, not to danger, but to certaine loſſe of thy content, thy eſtate, nay thy life, wilt thou not obey? Is not he the ſupreame arbiter of life and death? He that gave thee all, may be not therefore command all thou art owner of? Muſt our reaſon, or will, or content be check-maſter with his ſupreame authority, and our obedience be limited to our profit, our pleaſure, or ſuch reſpects?

Yet 'tis thus alas, many times with many amongſt us. God hath many that ſeeme his ſervants, who are indeed but their owne: men that follow him, but 'tis like the Jewes, Ioh. 6.26. for the meats ſake onely, becauſe proſperity, riches and honour are friends with religion, and go along with it: let theſe part, and Religion take one way, and proſperity another, theſe ſervants will ſoone acknowledge their maſter.

Religion had never worſe friends than when it had moſt, and never ſo many, as when the temporall ſword joynes with the Spirituall. The warme and cleareſt Sun-ſhine of the Goſpel produces many aequivocall births, that peſter the Church wherein they are, ſuch as are imperfect creatures, in reſpect of true generation. Theſe though they are in the Church, yet are they not of it, they ſeeme to hearken (with others) to Gods voyce, but it is while it ſounds to their eares in a pleaſing key; while their profit, their pleaſure or reputation run in paralells with religion, they hold the ſame courſe with Gods children, but th • ſe part, the bias of their reſpects drawes theſe crooked, theſe turne too, to the left hand after their ſiniſter ends. Let God command them to go, if it be to that which croſſes not their deſires, they runne with the formoſt, like a ſtone downe a hill: but to any diſconvenience, diſcommodity or diſcredit (as Lot here to the mountaine) O that's up hill, againſt the haire to them, then O not ſo my Lord, they then cannot, leſt ſome of theſe evils take them, and they die; a thouſand excuſes, a thouſand pretences of feares and evils that may take them, ſhall ſtand in their way, and you ſhall beare I cannot, lest ſome evill take me and I dye. But if God will command them where their affection drawes, let them go that way, none more forward in their obedience, their owne reſpects and deſires being the maine ſpring from which proceeds their motion.

2. I might ſecondly anſwer, (eſpecially of the two firſt) from the nature of them, they heing adiapbora, things indifferent, that in themſelves are neither good nor evill, cannot, ought not to be deſired without Gods commiſſion to enjoy them. But I leave this, and paſſe to the ſecond generall argument, which is a quantitate viae, this City is neere to flye unto.

'Tis neere.

1. Eaſe is a great flatterer of our nature, and difficultie, at equall diſtance from our affection with danger. Labour is the price of honor, and great and heroick ſpirits only the purchaſers. The idle wiſhes of the ſluggard, nor the faint reſolutions of the coward, will never arrive at that height where honour dwels. A ſpirit that growes big as the danger does, and gathers as it grows, ſhall attaine the true greatneſſe.

2. Secondly 'tis neere, and ſo might befriend his curioſity, that though he were forbidden to looke backe, Gen. 19.17 yet he might from hence ſee whether and how Sodom ſhould be deſtroyed.

Curioſity is an itch of our nature, which we would have clawed, though with a poyſonous naile. 'Tis a diſeaſe we are all ſicke of. Our firſt parents ſet their childrens teeth on edge with that ſowre apple (which their firſt curioſity to be like gods in knowledge,Gen 3 6. to know good and evill, made them taſte) that ſowre apple (I ſay) hath ever ſince ſet their childrens teeth on edge. Ezek. 18.2 Gen. 3.7. Yet they had their eyes opened; and what ſaw they? nothing, a privation that they were naked. They ſaw much like the bleareey'd woman in the Fable, that had covenanted with the Phyſitian, to give him ſo much money when he had reſtored her to perfect ſight. The Phyſitian at every viſit ſtole away ſome of her houſhold ſtuffe, till at laſt all was gone: by which time being cured, and he demanding his reward, ſhe tels him ſhe now ſaw worſe then ever, for whereas before ſhe ſaw her houſefull of goods, ſhe now could ſee juſt nothing. Their curioſitie and deſire of divine knowledge brought them juſt to ſuch a paſſe.

Their eyes were opened, Gen. 3.7. but what ſaw they? That they were naked. Whereas before they were inveſted with many divine and noble faculties, many rich attributes and priviledges of ſoule and body, they now ſaw themſelves diſroabed, naked and miſerably deſtitute of all thoſe.

Their eyes were opened, and what ſaw they? Even much like the blinde man in the Goſpel, Mar. 8.24. men like trees, mankinde degenerated into an inferiour kinde, violently hurred with his paſſions, and become as the brute beaſt, Pſal. 49.12.20. ſtupid as the block or tree.

Curioſitie is often puniſhed like jealouſie. The impatience of the deſire is one torture, and it often findes a ſecond in the object it ſeekes. It many times fiſhes for a Serpent, or would try the dangerous concluſion to kill a baſiliske.

Such a Curioſitie, was in the men of Bethſhemiſh, 1 Sam. 6.19. and it was a deare one, of whom fifty thouſand threeſcore and ten men forfeited not their eyes onely but their lives, for prying into the Arke of God.

Such a Curioſitie was in Rodericke the laſt King of the Goths in Spaine, L. Verulam his eſſay of Superſtition. and it was a deere one, when he would burſt open a part of his palace, which the religion of many ages kept untouched: and what found he? Pictures of the Moores with a propheſie, that when that part of the palace was opened, the people there reſembled ſhould conquer Spaine, as indeed under Muſae and Tarif they preſently did.

Such a Curioſitie was in Pompey the great, and it was a deare one. Vpon the conquering of Jeruſalem, not long before our Saviours birth, though ſtoutly oppoſed and threatned by the Prieſts, he would needs enter into the Sanctum Sanctorum. And what ſaw he to feed his Curioſity? Nothing but as Tacitus in his hiſtorie tells us,Tacitus lib. 5. nulla intus Deum, effigie vacuam ſedem & inania arcana: there was no picture or image of God, it was not like the painted Church of Rome.

But what followed upon this? —ex illo

Res illi fluere & retro ſublapſa referri, ſome ſuch thing met him as did Brutus afterwards that dampned and flatted his undaunted courage. And it is worth the obſerving, that from that time things ever went downe the winde, in all his undertakings the ſprightlineſſe of his great and fortunate Genius forſook him, and grew faint and cowardly.

It was none of the leaſt commendations that Tacitus gives of Agrippa, Tacitus in vita Agricolae. pag. 656. retinuitque (ſaith he) quod eſt difficilimum ſapientiae modum, he ſet limits to his wiſedome it ſelfe, and preſcribed a non ultra to his deſire of knowledge. And it is the Symtome of a well man'd temper, to be able to reclaime our unſatiate eagerneſſe, and take of the edge of our deſire to know.

It is in Pernaſſus as in other hils, there is an height to which we may let our ſelves aſpire: but ſome there are that thinke, that height muſt reach heaven it ſelfe, and ſtrive this way to enter into Gods Cloſet. That old itch of our firſt parents to be like Gods, Gen 3. to know good and evill, they can never claw of. But there is certainely an height to which we may goe, but he that reſts not there, may goe further, but it is downewards, and that many times impotente ſui pondere, with a ſwinge that cannot controule it ſelfe, till it carry him headlong into the dangerous precipice of diſtraction and errour. Such while like Elias they are wrapt in the Chariot of contemplation,2 King 2.11.13. reach not to the perfect viſion of the heavens, and things done and enacted there (which they aſpire to) but they let fall their mantles which ſhould vaile their nakedneſſe.

Knowledge, as it is in it ſelfe, is a ſweet thing, but it hath its ſower ſauce with it. Like Vinegar it doth not ſo much ſatisfie the appetite, as whet it with a new and freſh deſire. The Satyre that could not be content to ſee the fire, but muſt needs in Curioſitie feele it, ſcorched his fingers.