The fathers legacy: or Burtons collections Containing many excellent instructions for age, and youth, shewing them how to live godly in this life, and to attaine everlasting happinesse in the life to come. First written for the instruction of his onely son, and now set forth for the benefit of others. By Edw: Burton.

The Fathers Legacy, OR, Burtons Collections. My Sonne,

FIrſt honour God, then thy Prince, thy Parents, and thy Elders; be true and juſt, and ſee thou never grudge to clear the cauſe of the oppreſſed Innocent; for one day, God ſhall alſo be thy judge.

If gold, or bribes do corrupt thy Conſcience, if fear, or favour, do ſway thee in thy Judgment, if thou reſpect the difference of Perſons, be ſure that God will in the end repay thee for it.

Begin thy dayes work, when the day begins; firſt bleſſing Gods thrice bleſſed name, & then at the Evening when thy labour is ended, praiſe him again, ſo bring the year about.

Say not thou, my hand hath brought this work to an end, nor this my vertue hath attained, rather ſay thus; This hath God w •••• ht by me, for God is the Author of that little good we doe.

The world is like unto a • ound City, where • ach ma • may be rightly ſaid to be a Citizen; as well the • ude Barbarian, as the Greek; as well the meaneſt, as the mig • tieſt States.

In this fair Cities goodly Walles, God planted man, and placed him as in a Sanctuary, where he himſelf in a Thouſand parts hath plan • ed with lively col • ur • that • o never c • ange.

There is no • a corner ſo ſmall in all this City, wherein Gods greatneſſe doth not appear plain, which that we might the bette • view, he hath placed man juſt in the middle.

Yet can h • n • where better know the ſame, then in himſ • lf, wherein he may ſee (as in a glaſſe Earth, Water, Ayre, and Fire: For all the world his Eſſence doth infould.

Who of himſelf hath gained perfect knowledge, is not ignorant of any thing that he ought to know; but the beſt means, whereby it is attained, is oftentimes to go to wiſdoms glaſſe.

That which thou ſeeſt of man, is not man, but a priſon that keepes him Captive; it is but a Tombe wherein he is interred, it is but a Cradle wherein a while he ſleepes.

This mortall body, where the raviſhed ſence, ſees ſinnues, fleſh, bones, muskles, bloud and skin; it is not man, man is of more Excellency, it is the fair Temple where God himſelf dwelleth.

Rightly to ſpeak what we call man; it is a beamling of Divinity, it is a dropling of Eternity, it is a moathling hatcht of Unity.

O man, then know thine own originall, and learn to ſcorn the baſe Cells of earth; ſith thou ſhalt flouriſh in Heavens gliſtering Hall, and art indeed a Divine Plant by birth.

Well mayſt thou vant thee of thy glorious race, Not from thy mortall Parents either line: But from thy true imm • rtall F ••••• grace, Who by the modell of his 〈…〉 thine.

Shun thou the filthy ſect of 〈◊〉 Epicures, bold miſcreant • , every w •• blaſpheaming, the which do n •• 〈◊〉 •• ſpect, nor acknowledge God, but only the fatall ſway of nature.

And in the mean while, like the grunting ſwine, lye alwayes wallowing in the ſtinking mud, and feedes on fi • th, like to the loathſome froggs voluptious filth of every fleſhie deſire.

Happy is he, whoſe hope relies on God alone, and who on him, in either fortune calls, as well in proſperity, as adverſity, and puts no truſt in humain help at all.

Canſt thou aſſure thy hopes, on worldly traſh, frail mortall things, I pray thee tell me? ſuch are the greateſt of earthly men, and have more need to be ſecured then thou.

God is the juſt mans aid, and his Anchor; his ſure defence, when all the world forſakes him; And therefore then is he the leaſt diſmade, knowing that God is moſt ſtrongeſt for him when all wordly means fayles him.

The goods, which we call the goods of fortune, they are not goods if we tearm them rightly, for they are ever ſubject to the leaſt change that is. But vertue only ſtill perſiſts the ſame.

Vertue between the two extreams that hants, Between too micle, and too little ſize • : Exceedes in nothing, & in nothing wants. Borrowes of none, but to it ſelf ſuffizes.

O vertue, could we but ſee thy naked face, how wouldſt thou raviſh us with thy ſacred beauty; ſith rareſt witts, rapt with a ſeeming grace have in all ages, courted even thy ſhadowes.

The Parents comfort, is a prudent Sonne; now ſuch a Sonne, if thou deſireſt to have, direct him young to run in duties race; But thy own example is the neareſt way.

If thou be born Sonne of a prudent Father, why doſt thou not follow his example? if otherwiſe, why doſt not thou by vertuous deeds, ſtrive to cover his diſgrace?

It is no ſmall thing to be deſcended by our prediceſſours from an honeſt, and religious ſtock; but it is much more to ſhine by their light unto our own Succeſſors.

So long as thou liveſt, ceaſe not to learn, think that day loſt wherein thou learneſt not ſome good thing, that may give new grace, to make thy ſelf wiſer, and better.

Reſpect thy credit more then thy own life, I mean that which drawes each mans duty to the uttermoſt we are able, to God, to our King, to our Lawes, and our Country.

What thou canſt do to day, defer not till to morrow, like ſloath, Mother of fowleſt ſinnes; nor be thou like to thoſe who do borrow others hands, and what themſelves might do, will do by others.

Frequent the good, flye from ungodly men, eſpecially in thy youthes tender age; the while outragious appetites provoke, and arme thy ſences againſt the ſway of reaſon.

Go not about to deceive the ſimple, nor wilfully offend thy weaker brother, nor wound the dead with thy tongues bitter gall, neither rejoyce at the fall of thine Enemy.

Let thy diſcourſe be true in all things whether then be •• called as a publike witneſſe to 〈◊〉 a q • eſtion, or in thy ordinary and familiar ••• k.

To beguile • he ſilly birds, the crafty fow • er doth faine thei • ſweet notes; ſo doth ſubtle mates, counterf • ct the words, and guiſe of hon • ſt men.

Reveal not, whatſoever is •• uld thee in ſecret, nor buſily inquire things of others; the Inquiſitive, can hardly keep Councell, and the charitable is commonly a lyer.

Make thou alwayes lawfull meaſure, and equall waight, though none could ſpye, or diſcover thy dealing. And where thou haſt received a good turn, reſtore it with ſome kindneſſe back again.

Whatſoever is committed to thee in truſt, keep it carefully, and when the owner ſhall demand it again, deny it not, neither with a large Conſcience by ſubtle Law-tricks and ſtrive to detain it.

It is not enough, that thou doſt wrong no man thy ſelf; but thou muſt alſo ſuppreſſe the ſame in others, righting the weak mans cauſe, againſt the unrighteous, whether it touch his life, his goods, or name.

Whoſoever doth deſire the fame of honour, muſt tame his anger, and that heart-ſwelling, marrow-melting fire, blown by the wind of ſloath, and errour.

The moſt victorious thing, is our own ſelfe-Conqueſt; for in our ſelves do our greateſt foes ambuſh: and the only way to make us ever glorious, is by ſtout reaſon ſtill to vanquiſh thoſe.

If ſo be thy friend have offended thee, fall not out with him, nor urge him with violence; but mild, and meekly without inſolence, make thy complaint, and take thou his excuſe.

All men are faulty, no man alive can ſay, I have not erred, no not the perfecteſt; if thou doe ſurvay his life, in word and deed, thou ſhalt find that he hath miſt perfection.

It is a moſt buſie, yet a bootleſſe pain, for to hide ones falt, for do the beſt thou canſt, thou canſt not hide it from thy ſelf.

Be aſhamed more of thy ſelf, then others be; thy ſelf art moſt wronged by thy own faults, and of thy ſelf, thy ſelf firſt ſelfly blamed muſt give an account to thy ſelfes Conſcience.

Care not ſo much to ſeem outwardly, as to be good indeed; for from falſe rumours which the vulgar blow, a ſelf clear Conſcience is defence enough.

Re •• eve the needy after thine Eſtate, and to their want perticipate thy ſtore; for God doth bleſſe with plenty and tranquility, the houſe that pitties the diſtreſſed.

What boots thy baggs to be ſo crammed with Gold, thy trunks ſtuffed with ſuch ſtore of change, thy bottles filled with ſuch choyce of wines, and of all grain ſuch plenty in thy Chambers; if all this while the naked-poor, half periſhed with cold and hunger 〈◊〉 trembles at thy doore, and at the ••• gth gets but a peece of bread, and many times, perhaps, but hardly that.

Have not a heart ſo cruell, as to ſcorn the unhappy poor, that at thy beck doth crouch, who like thy ſelf into the world was born, and bear •• Gods Image, even as w • ll as thou.

Misfortune is a common lot to all m • n, yea, even to Princes, Kings, and Emperours, only the wiſe is freed from her, but where are they in this our age.

The wiſe man is freed among a Thouſand troubles, he is only rich with his own Eſtate content, he is only ſecure in danger, eaſed in pain, he is only a true King of fate and fortune.

Who to himſelf is Law, no Law doth neede, Off • nds no King, and is a King indeed.

He is not danted with the threats of Tyrants, but by his troubles growes more hardy and ſtrong, knowes his own merit, and lookes not for recompence from the great, for vertue is his reward.

True morall vertue, cannot be purchaſed by ſtudy, by treaſure, or by the grace of Princes, nor by one actio • , or two, or three; but long practice brings her perfection.

Who readeth much, and never meditate, is like a greedy • ater • f much victualls, who doth ſo ſurel • y his ſtomach with his Cates, that commonly they do him little good.

Curſed is he that defr •• ds the poor, or that detaines the hierlings wages; or who, ingratefull of a good turn done, thinks never of his friend, but when he ſees him.

Forſweare thee not, what cauſe ſoever is given thee, and if thou muſt of nec • ſſi • y • ake an Oa •• , ſ ••• ar not by man, not by the earth, nor by Heav • n, but by his ſacred name who made all things.

For G • d, w •• 〈…〉 all •• jury, and juſtly plag •• 〈…〉 an • us ſ •• w • uld 〈◊〉 w • •• ou conteſt th • conſta •• 〈…〉 a • y •• i • g t ••• i • •• lſe or alter • ble.

Apply •• y wh • le • ff ctio •• to ſome one A •• , and ſ •• dom 〈…〉 af • •• 〈…〉 in th • 〈…〉 m •• • 〈…〉 .

M •••• thou with no more then t • ou can •• 〈…〉 • o aſpi • e 〈…〉 uſe thou the wo • ld, 〈…〉 it, 〈◊〉 o • 〈…〉 , •• ther •• ſir • i •

W ••• ſo • ver it b • 〈…〉 by the 〈◊〉 , immed ••• ly 〈…〉 ſh • n that miſchief is, to keep ſhut the Caſements of the Eares.

Much talk is ſeldom without lyes, or at the leaſt, without ſome Idle ſpeech; unto the truth doth belong brief Language, for many words are fit for fables and dreames.

It behoves to picture ſlander to the life, to do it in the inſtant, while one feeleth her; for who is ſo happy, that did never prove her, can ſcarce immagine what ſhe is.

She hath not her reſidence in the Ayre, nor in the wild woods, nor in the S • a; but ſhe inhabits in the eares of great men, where ſhe depraves the innocent and honeſt.

Never give ſentence in thine own cauſe, for in our own caſe, we are ſubject to erre; for our own intereſt, drawes our partiall judgment, and ever makes the ballance hang a wrie.

Alwayes ground thy Judgment upon the Law, and not on man, for that is affection-leſſe; but man doth abound ſtrangely in paſſion, the one all like God, the other too like to beaſts.

Before thou promiſe any thing, ponder, why, and what; but having once paſt thy promiſe, whatſoever it be, yea be it to thy greateſt enemy, thou muſt perform it, thy tongue hath tyed thee to it.

Nothing more beſeemes a great (or rich) man, then liberality, ſo it be given to thoſe that deſerve it, and without burthen to his own eſtate.

The fear that ſprings from reverence and love, gives a firm ſupport to greatneſſe; but he that through violence makes himſelf feared, himſelf feares moſt, and lives ſtill in diſtruſt.

An enemy, diſgrace, and misfortune, are three things to prove if friends be juſt; for many bear the name to be friends, that are not ſo, i • they be put to tryall.

Thou fortunes wonder, that from the loweſt place, doth as it were in a moment ſpring up to the top of greatneſs, ſuppoſe it but a wind that blowes, which before night perhaps will calm again.

A mean Eſtate is best of all, A dangerous thing its high to clime; The mighti • ſt Oakes, have greateſt fall, When little ſhrubs, grow out their time.

The mean eſtate, is moſt permanent, we ſee the vallies are drowned with every ſhower, and mountain tops are rent with every Thunder, when little hills are pleaſant and ſafe.

A ſmall thing pleaſes nature, enough is a feaſt; a ſober life requires but a ſmal • charge; but man, the Authour of his own unreſt, the more he hath, the more he ſtill d • ſi •• s.

Man doth repine at the ſhortneſſe of his life, yet doth not rightly ſpend that time he hath, which might ſuffice his mind, if to live well, he did deſire to live.

Thou canſt hardly require him ſufficiently, w • o • ath been tutor to thee in thy 〈◊〉 ••• od: nor him t • at hath inſt • uc ••• 〈◊〉 , • oth well to ſpeak, but ch •• fl • well • o do.

〈…〉 ••• ces w •• re thou comeſt, alwayes give place unto the Aged; So when lik • Age ſhal • ſilverize thy Tr • ſſe, thou ſ ••• t by others be like honoured.

T • 〈◊〉 and drink, and exerciſe in meaſure 〈◊〉 • he 〈◊〉 c •• taineſt means of h ••• th; but 〈…〉 th •• or other delights, en ••• ſeth 〈◊〉 me, & doth haſten death.

If evill men ſpeak evill of thee ſometimes, what needeſt thou to care? it is thy Commendations, blame from the Authour takes authority; & it is a good report that good men raiſe.

Of what is ſpoken, ever make the beſt, bear with the faults of thy frie • ds and neighbours, bear with their defects, and publiſh them not abroad, be ready to praiſe, and ſlow to reprehend.

He that eſteemes, or va •• s himſelf to be wiſe, think him a foole, and him that doth aſſume, the name of learned, whoſoever tryes him, ſhall find him nothing but bare words.

The better learned, learn more their want And more to doubt, their own ſufficiency, And virtuous men are never arrogant, Theſe are the fruits of my Philoſophy.

To mortifie carnall affections.

WHenſoever a man doth covet any thing immoderately, ſtraight way his mind is out of quiet, The proud, and covetuous, be ever vexed, but he which is poor and meek in ſpirit, liveth in great eaſe, he which doth not mortifie the inordinate affections of his mind, may eaſily be carried away to wickedneſſe, and with trifling things be overcome: He that is weak, wordly, and carnall, can no wayes withdraw himſelf from earthly deſires; And therefore when he reſiſteth them it griveth him, when he is contraried he fretteth, and if he fulfill his mind he ſinneth; and by and by, doth wound his Conſcience, becauſe he followeth his deſires: which inſtead of that peace which he looked for, brings continuall diſquietneſſe; wherefore the true quietneſſe of mind, i • attained not by following, but by reſiſting wicked affections, and remaineth in him which is fervent and godly zealous, not in carnall and wordly men.

Againſt vain glory.

IT is a vain thing to truſt either in man, or in any other Creature; be not aſhamed to be in ſubjection to others, not if thou be poor in this preſent life; depend not upon thy ſelf, but put thy confidence in the Lord. Do thy part, and God will bleſſe thy indeavour; Truſt not to thine own knowledge, neither do thou repoſe any confidence in the wit of man, but only in the Lord; which exalteth the humble, and bringeth down the proud. Glory thou neither in thy riches, if thou have much, not of thy friends if they be mighty; but in the Lord, who both giveth all things, and gladly would give himſelf, before all things. Be thou proud neither of thy beauty, or highneſſe, for a little ſickneſſe doth both deform the one, and conſume the other; Like not over well of thy ſelf, if thou have a good wit, leaſt thou offend God thereby, which gave whatſoever good thing thou haſt by nature: Think not thy ſelf better then other men; leaſt God who knoweth what is in man, condemn thee utterly for thy arrogant conceit: doſt thou well? take heed of pride, God judgeth not as man doth; for that commonly doth diſpleaſe him, which pleaſeth man. If thou haſt any goodneſſe in thy ſelf, think that another hath more; ſo ſhalt thou alwayes retain the true modeſty of mind. To debaſe thy ſelf even under all men, can never hurt thee, but to prefer thy ſelf afore one man, may eaſily condemn thee. The humble man is alwayes in quiet, but the haughty minded fumeth commonly with indignation.

What Company to uſe.

OPen not thy heart to every man, but communicate thine affaires to the wiſe and godly; acquaint thy ſelf with reverend old men, and delight not much in the company of youths and ſtrangers, flatter not the wealthy, and take heed of the mighty, joyn thee to thy equalls which are godly, and do that which is honeſt, and for the publike wel-fare; be familiar with no woman unlawfully, but generally commend as many as are good, wiſh to be familiar, but with God only, and his holy Angels, and utterly avoid the company of ſome men. Have peace with all men, but not familiarity: many times it falleth out that we love a ſtranger through the report of others; whom afterwards we hate, having tryed his conditions; and many times we diſpleaſe others, by our lewd beheaviour, whom we thought, we ſhould pleaſe right well, if we had but their acquaintance.

Of Obedience.

IT is greatly for our behoofe to live under others, not as we liſt ou • ſelves, and at more eaſe live Subjects then Rulers. Many obey for fear, rather then for love, and grudgingly, no • gladly; but ſuch can never have the liberty of mind before they obey bot • for Conſcience, and for the Lords ſake whereſoever thou comeſt, never loo • to live at eaſe, unleſſe thou keep thy ſe •• within thy calling, and obey thy ſuperiours; The opinion and change of places, hath deceived many a man: ever • man by nature, would follow his ow • mind, and favoureth ſuch as are of his own opinion; but if we fear God, we will ſometimes change our mind for quietneſſe ſake; for who is ſo wiſe, tha • he knoweth all things. Therefore truſt not too much to thine own opinion: but willingly give eare to the judgement of others; And albeit thou ſtand in a good matter, yet if it be thought more expedient to have it otherwayes alter thy mind, and thou ſhalt do bet ••• . I have heard many times, that it is eaſier, yet better, to hear and take, then • o give Councell. And he bewrayeth his p • ide more, which will ſtick in an opinion, though it be good, if wiſer then himſelf through deeper judgement and Circumſtances would have it altered.

Againſt idle meetings▪

SHun the common meetings of me • as much as thou canſt, for to talk o • worldly matters, doth greatly hu • us, mean we never ſo well; the reaſo • is, we are eaſily drawn away with vanity. And for my part, I have wiſhe • many times, that I had been both ſilent, and abſent: now if any would examine the cauſe, why ſo gladly w • chat, and prate together, ſeeing we ſeldom ſpeak without offence to God and hurt to our Conſcience, he ſha •• find the anſwer to be, for comfort an • recreation ſake. For the more earneſtly we deſire a thing, or the more certainly we know any evill to be towards us, the more vehemently w • love to talk and think thereof, albeit to ſmall profit or purpoſe; for this outward comfort, doth not a little hinder the inward conſolation; wherefore we are to watch and pray, that we ſpend not our time idly: And if we will, or muſt of neceſſity ſpeak, let our ſpeech be good to the uſe of edifying, that it may miniſter grace unto the hearers. To babble much we ſhould not uſe, both becauſe the cuſtome thereto is nought, and for that in many words, there cannot want iniquity: But godly ſpeech greatly availeth to a vertuous life, eſpecially where men of like minds and ſpirit are coupled together in the Lord.

How to come to quietneſse in mind, & to a godly life.

WOuld we not meddle with other mens doings, and ſayings, we might live at great eaſe, and quietneſſe; but how is it poſſible we ſhould be quiet, which buſie our ſelves with other mens matters, that touch us not: and pick occaſion to go abroad, and little or ſeldom, keep at home? bleſſed are the meek, for they have much reſt: In ancient time many attained to ſingular perfection, and were zealous, and how ſo? They mortified their earthly Members; we looſe the bridle to all beaſtly deſires, and care altogether, for temporall traſh; ſeldom, if at all, do we ſubdue our affections, neither do we deſire to profit more and more, dayly in well doing; if therefore we remain in Religion, either cold or luke-warme, what marvell? But were we dead unto our own ſelves, and not intangled inwardly with parturbations, doubtleſſe we ſhould taſte the unſpeakable ſweetneſſe of a godly life: and be inflamed with a burning deſire of celeſtiall things; for in very deed, the greateſt, (if not the whole) let from godlineſſe, is becauſe we are in bondage to vild affections; and labour not to follow the foot-ſteps of the faithfull. Hence it is, that if we be never ſo lightly touched with adverſity, we are marvelouſly diſmaid, and ſeek help of man, which cometh of the Lord, now would we keep our places, like valiant Souldiers, the Lord would help us from above; for he is ready to aſſiſt them which ſerve him, and will give us victory if we fight his battles. But if we place our Religion in doing theſe outward things, in ſhort time our Religion with them will utterly decay; wherefore the Axe muſt be laid unto the root, and our wicked affections muſt be cut off, which is the only way to find reſt for our ſoules. If every year we would but root out one vice from our mindes, oh how quickly ſhould we prove good men. But alas, we ſee by experience, that after many years, we are worſe then at the firſt, when we begin for to profeſſe Religion. And he is an holy man counted now a dayes, which can retain a part of his former zeal; yet ſhould the fire of godlineſſe increaſe dayly, and be inflamed more and more. The remedy whereof is, at the begining to ſtrain our ſelves, ſo ſhall we afterwards do all things at pleaſure. I confeſſe indeeed it is hard, for to leave an old cuſtome and as hard, yea harder, for a man to bridle his affection. At the begining therefore ſtrive with thine inclination, and leave a wicked cuſtom, leaſt otherwiſe when thou wouldeſt thou canſt not eaſily; for it is impoſſible that we ſhould vanquiſh and ſubdue mighty, which cannot overcome light and trifling things. Oh if thou wouldeſt conſider, what quietneſſe to thy ſelf, and joy to others, thou ſhouldeſt bring by godly, and good beheaviour, doubtleſſe thy chiefeſt care would be how to live in the ſight of God religiouſly, and honeſtly in the eyes of men.

What prefit cometh by Adverſity.

IT is good for us ſometimes to ſuffer affliction, for it maketh us to know our ſelves in this world, and to repoſe no confidence in any creature; It is good for us ſometimes, to be ill ſpoken of, and ill thought of, although we deſerve not the ſame; for that bringeth to humilitie, and driveth from pride. And the more earneſtly we call for the teſtimony of God in our conſcience, when we are condemned among men, and of no credit: So that every man ought ſo to depend upon God, that he need not care for any worldly comfort. For a good man, the more he is troubled, either outwardly in body, or inwardly in minde, the more hee conſidereth how greatly he ſtandeth in need of Gods aſſiſtance, without which he ſeeth he can doe no good; then he ſorroweth and ſobbeth, & deſireth to be delivered from miſery; then it greeveth him to live any longer, and wiſheth to be looſed, and to be with Chriſt; and then he perceiveth full well, that in this life we cannot finde perfect peace and ſecurity.

Againſt raſh Judgement.

LOoke warily into thy ſelfe, and judge not other men. For in judgeing others, we labour vainely, erre commonly, and eaſily offend; but in judging and examining our ſelves, wee reape ſingular commodity. As wee fancie a thing, ſo we judge thereof, and blinded with private affection, wee commonely give partiall ſentence; now were the love of God, alwaies our onely guide, our ſences which are enemies to truth, would not ſo eaſily trouble us. But commonly ſomewhat either lurketh within, or chanceth without, which carrieth us away. Many in their doings, unwittingly ſeeke themſelves, which are ſo long quiet in minde, as they injoy all things according to their w • ſh: but if any thing fall out otherwiſe then they would, they chafe, fret, and fume; great deſcention falleth out, even among friends, and Countreymen; yea, among the godly and zealous too, through the diverſitie of opinions; for ſuch is our nature, we can hardly break on old cuſtome, and further then he ſeeth will no man gladly goe. But if we cleave or depend, more upon reaſon and ſenſe, then upon that vertue which bringeth unde • the obedience of Chriſt, let us never looke to be inflamed with the light of Gods holy Spirit: for God wil be ſerved not with a peece of man, but with whole man, neither doth he allow reaſon to judge of Religion.

Of the Works of Charitie.

WEe ought not to doe wickedly, for any thing, nor for any mans ſake; albeit in reſpect of the weake, a good work may be undone ſometimes, or done otherwiſe: And that is not to neglect a good work, but to leave one good work, to do a better. If thou have not love, there outward deeds profit nothing; if thou have love, be thy works never ſo ſmall and ſimple, they profit much, for God reſpecteth not what is done, but how, and with what affection a thing is done. Hee doth much, that loveth much; hee doth much, that doth a thing as it ſhould be done, and he doth ſo that ſeeketh the common welfare before his owne profit. It many times ſeemeth a charitable deed, which indeed is a carnall: for that which is done, as commonly workes are done, either of affection, or deſire of gaine, or hope of reward, which are carnall inclinations, is doubtleſſe a carnall, and not a charitable Work. A man indued with perfect charity, ſerveth not his owne turne, but onely in all things ſeeketh the glory of God. He envieth not, for he loveth no private joy, neither will rejoyce in himſelfe, but in the Lord, whoſe bleſſing hee deſireth before all things. He aſcribeth no goodneſſe to any, but acknowledgeth all things to come of God; from whom every good gift, & every perfect gift doth proceed; in whom all the Saints do reſt in perpetuall bliſſe. Finally, he which hath but a ſparke of this true Charity, accounteth all worldly things but meere vanity.

That men which offend muſt be borne withall ſometimes.

THat which thou canſt not amend neither in thy ſelfe, nor others, muſt patiently be ſuffered, till God otherwaies worke. Thinke with thy ſelfe, that perchance, God doth it to try thy patience, without which our merits doe little availe; notwithſtanding in thy troubles, thou oughteſt to beſeech Almighty God to aſſiſt thee with his grace, that patiently thou maiſt indure his croſſe and tryall. If any, being divers, and ſundry times admoniſhed, will not amend, deale with him no more, but commit the whole matter to God, that his will and glory may appeare, in all his creatures, which knoweth well, how to turne all things to the beſt; endeavour thy ſelfe patiently to beare the faults, and the infirmities of other men, whatſoever they be; for ſo much as thou art faulty thy ſelfe, and muſt be borne withall. And if thou canſt not bee ſuch as thou wouldeſt bee, thinkeſt thou to make another according to thy minde? We wiſh that others were godly, and yet wee our ſelves mend not: We would have others ſeverely corrected, which we refuſe our ſelves: We find fault with the licentiouſneſſe of others, and wee our ſelves will not be gaine-ſaid: We ſeek that others ſhould be bridled by Law, and we our ſelves refuſe obedience; whereby it is evident, that we love not our Neighbour as our ſelves. If all were perfect, what ſhould wee ſuffer at other mens hands, for Gods ſake; But now it pleaſeth God that we muſt beare one anothers burden; and that becauſe no man is without fault, no man but hath his burden; no man that can live by himſelfe, no man but lacks adviſe ſometimes, and therefo • e we ought to ſuffer one with another, to comfort one another, to help, inſtruct, and admoniſh one another. And never ſhall the vertue of a man be ſo knowne, as by occaſion of adverſitie; for occaſions makes not a man fraile, but ſhewes what he is.

The way to quietneſſe, both temporall and eternall.

THou muſt bridle and breake thy will in many things, if thou wilt live a quiet life: And if thou wouldeſt ſtand upright, and goe forward in godlineſſe, account thy ſelfe in this world but a baniſhed man, and a pilgrime. And if thou deſire to be a Chriſtian, thou muſt prove a foole before men for Chriſts ſake: A hood or a ſhaven head maketh not a religious man, but an alteration from vice to vertue: and a mortication of thy luſts; hee which loveth any thing beſides God, and the ſalvation of his ſoule, ſhall find nothing but miſery and ſorrow: and let not him looke to be long in quiet, which laboureth not in the ſight of men to be moſt abject, and inferior to all: for thou art in this life to ſerve, not to rule; and called to ſuffer, and labour, not to loiter and live at pleaſure. For men are tryed in this world, as gold is in the ſurnace, and let no man here look to ſtand upright; unl • ſſe with all his heart, he humble himſelfe for the Lords ſake.

The exerciſe of a true Chriſtian.

THe life of a Chriſtian ſhould be adorned with all vertues, that hee may be ſuch inwardly, as he outwardly appeareth to the world; yea, more vertuous ſhould he be then he ſeemeth, in as much as God ſeeth our hearts, who wee muſt intirely revere • ce, whereſoever we are, and before whom we ſhould walke uprightly as Angels. Every day wee ſhould renounce our mindes, and as though we were but newly converted from ſinne, we ought to inflame our zeale, and ſay; O my Lord God, aſſiſt me, I humbly beſeech thee, in this my good purpoſe and zeal, & give me grace even at this preſent time, godly to enter into thy ſervice; for what hitherto I have done is nothing. In this our race and going forward in godlineſſe, wee muſt uſe great diligence, if we minde to finiſh our courſe as we ſhould. For if hee which couragiouſly goeth on, is tried many times? What will become of him, which either ſeldome, or faintly ſetteth forward? Many things cauſe us to change our good minds; but, we never ſo lightly omit ſpiritual exerciſe, but we greatly hinder our ſelves thereby. The purpoſe of the juſt dependeth upon the favour of God, not upon their own wiſdome, on whom they truſt in all their enterprizes. For man may purpoſe, but God diſpoſeth; neither can man of himſelfe bring any thing to paſſe. If we omit our accuſtomed exerciſe, either for Religions cauſe, or to profit our brethren, we may eaſily attaine thereunto againe; but if careleſly, of ſloth, or faintneſſe of minde, we neglect the ſame, we do both highly diſpleaſe God, and greatly endamage our ſelves. Let us doe our beſt, yet ſhall wee • ffend in many things. All be it will be good to ſhoot at ſome certaine things, and eſpecially againſt thoſe vices, which hinder us more then others; we muſt examine and ſet in order, as well outward, as inward things, for both are nec • ſſary to our proceedings. If thou can •• not at all times take account of thy ſelfe, yet doe it ſometimes, and at the leaſt, once a day, either at morne or night. In the morning, conſider how thou wilt ſpend thy time till evening. And at night call to minde how thou • aſt ſpent the day; and what thy thoughts, words, and deeds have been, for thereby we commonly both diſpleaſe God, and offend men. Gird thy loynes like a man againſt Satan, bridle thy riotous appetite, ſo the more eaſily ſhalt thou bring under all the unruly deſires of the fleſh. Be thou at no time idle, altogether, but alwaies, either read, or write, or pray, or meditate, or doe ſomewhat for the publlique welfare. The body muſt bee exerciſed with judgement, for all exerciſes be not for every man; private exerciſes muſt not be uſed in a publicke place, a • beit thou art to take heed that thou be not too publicke, ſlow, and ſwift unto private, but having done thy dutie, according to thy calling, if any leaſure be gotten, betake thee to thy ſelfe as thy profeſſion doth require: All men cannot uſe one exerciſe, but that is for ſome, which is not for others. Againe, according to the diverſitie of time, wee thinke of exerciſes; for ſome, like us of holydaies, ſome on working daies, ſome in the time of warre, ſome in the time of quietneſſe, ſome we minde when we are penſive, and ſome when we rejoyce in the Lord; good exerciſes ſhould oftentimes be renewed, eſpecially on holy daies, as though we were then departing out of this life, and going to the everlaſting daies of reſt. And therefore at ſuch times eſpecially, we ſhould ſhew our ſelves moſt devout, and moſt carefully execute Gods Heſts; looking, as it were, preſently to have a reward of our labour from God, which if it be deferred, let us think with our ſelves, that we are not ſufficiently prepared; but unworthy ſo great glory to be revealed unto us, at a time convenient, and prepare our ſelves more diligently to our end. Happy is that Servant ſaith our Saviour Chriſt, whom the Lord when he cometh ſhall find watchfull, know ye of a truth, he will make him ruler over all that he hath.

Of ſolitarineſſe and ſilence.

SEeke a convenient time to meditate, and oftentimes call the benefits of God into mind, omit curious things, and chuſe ſuch matter, as may rather ſtir up thy mind unto godlineſs, then buſie thee too much: withdraw thy ſelf from ſpeaking vainly, from gadding idly, from liſtning unto rumours, and novelties. And thou ſhalt find good leaſure, and ſufficient for thy ſpirituall exerciſe: and that after the example of the moſt godly, who ſhunned the company of men as much as they might, and choſe to live a part unto God. One ſaid, I never came amongſt men, but I departed more wicked then I was before. And this we find true, when we talk much together; It is eaſier to be altogether ſilent, then not to exceed in words, and to tarry at home then not to offend abroad it is eaſier. Wherefore he which would be zealous, and godly, muſt avoid Company. No man doth ſafely go abroad, but he which gladly can abide at home, no man ſafely doth govern, but he which gladly can be in ſubjection. No man ſafely doth Command, but he that hath learned willingly to obey. No man ſafely is merry, but he that hath a good Conſcience. And no man ſafely can ſpeak, but he that willingly can hold his peace. And yet hath not the ſecurity of good men, at any time been without the fear of God, neither did their excellent, and heavenly gifts make them any whit proud, but the more humble. But the ſecurity of the wicked, as it ariſeth of pride, ſo it turneth to their diſtruction. Never look to live at thy hearts eaſe, in this world, ſeem thou never ſo godly and religious. It faileth out many times, that they fall grievouſly through pride, which in mans opinion were moſt religious men: whereby it is evident, that tentation is very good for ſome, both to keep them from pride and outward conſolation, O if man would avoid vain pleaſure, and not love the world, what a good Conſcience ſhould he alwayes retain. If man would caſt away all vain cares, and think only upon heavenly things, and truſt only in God, what a continuall joy ſhould he feele in his mind? No man ſhall find any ſpirituall comfort, except he occupie himſelf diligently in ſtirring up his mind unto godlineſſe: the which thou ſhalt the more eaſily attain, if thou enter into thy Chamber, and ſhut thy ſelf from troubles of the world, as it is written. Examin your own hearts upon your bed, and be ſtill. For commonly thou ſhalt find that in the Cloſet, which thou wouldeſt leeſe abroad, the more thou uſeſt thy Cloſet, the more thou wilt like it; the leſſe thou comeſt thereinto, the more thou wilt loath it. But frequent the ſame rightly, and tarry therein at thy firſt converſion from wickedneſſe, and afterwards thou ſhalt do it with exceeding pleaſure. Solitarineſſe, and quietneſſe, is good for him that would proceed in vertue, and learn the myſteries of holy Scripture; for there ſhall he find even floods of teares, whereby he may waſh and clenſe himſelf every night, that he may be ſo much nigher unto his Maker, by how much he is further from the reſort of men. So that God with his holy Angels cometh unto him, which withdraweth himſelf from his friends and acquaintance. It is better to live in a corner, ſo a man have a regard to himſelf, then without care of his own ſalvation, even to work miracles. It is no ſhame, but praiſe, for a godly man ſeldom to go abroad, to ſhun to be ſeen, and not to love to ſee. Why lookeſt thou on that which is not lawfull for thee to have? The world paſſeth away, and the luſts thereof. The deſire of pleaſure maketh thee to rove abroad; but when the pleaſure is paſt, which is quickly gone, what getteſt thou thereby, but repentance, and a wandering ſoule? A merry out-going bringeth commonly: murning return, and a merry evening watch, is ſign of a lowring morning. Even ſo the joy of this world entreth pleaſantly, but endeth bitterly; what canſt thou ſee in another place, which is not here? Behold the Heaven, Earth, and all the E • ements; for of thoſe do all things conſiſt: what ſeeſt thou in any place that abideth ever? perchance thou thinkeſt to ſatisfie thy ſelf with contemplation, but thou ſhalt never do ſo; what if thou ſ • weſt all things before thine eyes? it were but a vain ſight; but lift up thine eyes to God, and aske pardon for thine offences, leave vain things to vain folks, and give thou thy mind to do the will of God. Shut thy ſelf within thy dore, and call thy welbeloved Jeſus unto thee; Tarry with him in thy Chamber; for elſewhere thou ſhalt never find ſo great quietneſſe. Haddeſt thou not gone abroad, nor liſtned unto tumors, and tales, thou mighteſt the better have injoyed quietneſſe, but now becauſe thou giveſt thine eares to hear newes, thou art troubled greatly, and vexed in thy mind.

Of the laſt judgment and puniſhment for ſinne.

VVHatſoever thou takeſt in hand, remember thine end; and how thou muſt appear before a ſevere Judge, in whoſe ſight nothing is hid; which neither is pleaſed with reward, nor admitteth vain excuſes; but rightly and indifferently judgeth all men. O fond man and miſerable wretch, what anſwer wilt thou make unto God, who knoweth all thy ſinnes, which oftentimes feareſt the lookes, even of an angry man? why doſt thou not look to thy ſelf, againſt the day of that judgment when no man ſhall excuſe, or defend another? for every man ſhall have enough to anſwer for himſelf. Now mayſt thou do good, if thou takeſt paine, now will thy teares be excepted, if thou weep, now may thy groans be heard if thou ſigh, and both pacifie God, and purge thy ſelf; And indeed, thoroughly is the patient man purged, which being injured, doth bewale the wickedneſſe of the inferiour, rather then the injury offered unto himſelf, prayeth for his enemies, forgiveth them from his heart, asketh pardon ſpeedily of others whom he hath offended, is more eaſily moved to pitty then to anger, offereth often violence unto himſelf, and laboureth earneſtly to bring his body into ſubjection of the ſpirit. And theſe things muſt not be deferred, but be done while we live, and that with ſpeed. But we deceive our ſelves, thorow an inordinate deſire of the fleſh; That Hell fire, what elſe will it burn but ſinners? The more thou haſt loved thy ſelf, and pampered thy fleſh, the more ſhall be thy paines, and the more ſubſtance to burn thee, haſt thou laid together. For in what things a man hath ſinned, in the ſame he ſhall be puniſhed, according to the greatneſſe of the offence; There idle perſons ſhall be pricked with burning forks, gluttons ſhall be tormented there with extream hunger, and thurſt: There Epicures and voluptious perſons, for their ſweet delights ſhall have burning pitch to boyle them, and ſtinking brimſtone to anoy them, The envious there ſhall houle like mad doggs; and no vice, but ſhall have his torment.

To be ſhort, one houre of paine in that place, ſhall bee more grievous, then all the time they had in this world to amend their maners. For the • e is no reſt, comfort there is none. Here ſometimes, their ſorrow ſeaſed, and ſometimes they received comfort of their friends; wherefore have a care of thy ſelfe, whilſt thou art alive, and bewaile thy ſinnes, that in the day of that judgement thou mayeſt ſafely rejoyce with Gods elect. For then ſhall the righteous with great boldneſſe, ſtand againſt ſuch as have vexed and oppreſſed them. Then ſhall he ſit to judge, which now is content to be judged of men; Then ſhall the poore and meeke, triumph, when the proud ſhall quake on every ſide. Then ſhall they ſay, hee was wiſe, which for Chriſt his ſake ſeemed a foole, and an abject; Then ſhall the memory of miſery, patiently ſuſtained be ſweet; when in the meane while, the wicked ſhall ſobb, and ſigh; Then ſhall the godly rejoyce and be glad, but the reprobate ſhall howle and weepe. Then ſhall the afflicted more triumph, then if continually he had been in joy. Then ſhall the baſe apparell be glorious, and the proud attire infamous. Then ſhall the poore Cottage be more commended, then is the guilded Pallace praiſed. Then ſhall conſtant patience more prevaile, then all the power of the world. Simple obedience ſhall be more commended then, then all the ſubilty of man. Then ſhall a cleare and good conſcience more rejoyce a man, then profound skill in Philoſophie. The contempt of Riches ſhall doe more good, then all the riches in the world; then ſhall a zealous Praier bring more delight then ever did fine Cates. Thy ſilence kept in thy life time, ſhall more cheare thy heart in that time, then long babbling; good works then ſhall be reſpected, then copy of ſweet words, And then ſhall thy paines taken to reforme thy maners, more delight then could all the pleaſure in the world. Wherefore learne in this life, to ſuffer ſmall things, that in the world to come thou maiſt eſcape great, and grievous dangers. Try firſt in thy life time, what thou canſt ſuffer after thou art dead; and if thou canſt not endure but light things in compariſon now; how wilt thou beare afterwards everlaſting torments? And if now ſo little paine can make thee impatient, what will the fire of Hell doe? For, perſwade thy ſelfe, thou canſt not be twice happy; that is, to enjoy thy pleaſure in this life, and raigne too with Chriſt in the world to come. Now ſuppoſe thou hadſt lived hitherto in perpetuall honour, and pleaſure, what good would theſe things doe thee, if thou ſhouldeſt dye out of hand? Seeſt thou not how all things are vaine, ſave onely to love, and ſerve God; for he which loveth God, with all his heart, feareth neither death, nor paine, nor judgement, nor damnation; for perfect love maketh a man w • th boldneſſe to appeare before God. But marvell it is not, though he which delighteth as yet in ſinne, doth both feare death, and the day of judgement. Notwithſtanding, if the love of God cannot allure thee unto godlineſſe, yet let the feare of hell fire drive thee from wickedneſſe. But if neither the love of God, nor the fear of Hell can better thee one jot, then look not to ſtand in a good eſtate long, but quickly to fall into the ſnares of Sathan. And gentle Reader, if none of theſe perſwaſions • ill prevaile with thee, mark well his enſuing diſcourſe that followes.

Of the paines appointed for ſinners after this life.

AMongſt all the meanes which God uſeth towards the Children of men, to move them to reſolution a • ainſt ſinne, whereof I intreat the ſtrongeſt and moſt forceable (to the common ſort of men) is the conſideration of puniſhments prepared by God for rebellious ſinners, and tranſgreſſors of his Commandements: wherefore he uſeth this conſideration often, as may appear by all the Prophets, who do almoſt nothing elſe but threaten plagues, and diſtruction to offendors. And this mean hath often times prevaled more then any other that could be uſed, by reaſon of the naturall love which we bear towards our ſelves: and conſequently, the naturall fear which we have of our own danger. So we read, that nothing could move the Ninivites ſo much as the foretelling them of their eminent deſtruction 〈◊〉 And St. John Baptiſt, although h • came in a ſimple, and contemptibl • manner, yet preaching unto the peopl • the terrour of vengeance to come, and that the Axe muſt be put to the Roo • of the Trees, to cut down for the Fire all thoſe which did not repent: he moved the very Publicanes, and Souldiers to feare (which otherwiſe are people of very hard mettall) who cam • unto him upon this terrible Embaſſage and asked, what they ſhould doe 〈◊〉 avoid theſe puniſhments? After ther • that we have conſidered of death, an • of Gods ſeveare judgements, whic • inſueth after death, and wherein every man hath to receive, according t • his works in this life, as the Scriptu •• ſaith, it followeth, that we conſider a • ſo of the puniſhments which are appointed for them that ſhall be foun • faulty at that account. Hereby, 〈◊〉 leaſtwiſe (if no other conſideration w • ſerve) to induce all Chriſtians to th •• reſolution of ſerving God, for if ever • man have naturally a love of himſelfe, and deſire to conſerve his own caſe, then ſhall he alſo have feare of perill, whereby he is to fall into extreame calamity.

This expreſſeth Saint Bernard excellently; O man (ſaith he) if thou have loſt all ſhame, which pertaineth to ſo noble a creature as thou art, (if thou feele no ſorrow as carnall men doe not) yet loſe not feare alſo, which is found in every beaſt: we vſe to lead an Aſſe, and to weary him out with labour, and he careth not, becauſe he is an Aſſe. But if thou wouldeſt thruſt him into the fire, or fling him into a ditch, he would avoid it, as much as he could, for that he loveth life, and f • areth death. Feare thou then, and be not more inſenſible then a beaſt; feare death, feare judgement, feare hell. This feare is called the beginning of wiſdome, and not ſhame, or ſorrow, for that the ſpirit of feare, is more mighty to reſiſt ſi • ne, then the ſpirit of ſhame, or ſorrow. Wherefore it is ſaid, remember thy end, and thou ſhalt never ſinne: that is, remember the finall puniſhments which are appointed for ſinne, after this. Thus farre Saint Bernard.

Firſt then to ſpeake in generall, of the puniſhments reſerved for the life to come; If the Scriptures did not declare, in perticular their greatneſſe unto us, yet are there many reaſons to perſwade us, that they are moſt ſevere, dolerous, and intollerable. For firſt, as God is a God in all his works, that is to ſay, great, wonderfull, and terrible; ſo eſpecial • y, he ſheweth the ſame in his puniſhment, being called for that cauſe, in Scripture, the God of juſtice, as alſo, God of revenge: wherefore ſeeing all his other works, are all full of M • jeſtie, and exceeding our capacities: we may likewiſe gather, that his hand in puniſhment muſt be wonderfull alſo.

God himſelfe teacheth us to reaſon thus; in this manner, when he ſaith: and will ye not then feare me? and wi • yee not tremble before my face, which have put the Sand • as a ſtop unto the Sea, and have given the water a commandement never to paſ e its bound • ; no not when it is moſt troubl • d, and the floods moſt outragious? As who would ſay, If I am wonderfull, and doe paſſe your imagination in theſe works, of the Sea, and others, which you ſee dayly; you have cauſe to feare me, conſidering that my puniſhments are like to be correſpondent to the ſame.

Another conjecture of the great 2nd ſevere Juſtice of God, may be the conſideration of his infinite and unſpeakable mercy: the which as it is the very nature of God, and without end or meaſure, as his Godhead is, ſo alſo his juſtice is. And theſe two are the two Armes, (as it were) of God imbraſing, and kiſſing one the other, as the Scripture ſaith. Therefore, as in a man of this world, if we had the meaſure of one arme, we might eaſily conj • cture of the other; ſo ſeeing the wonderfull examples dayly of Gods infinite mercy towards them that repent, we may imagine by the ſame, his ſevere juſtice towards them, whom he reſerveth to puniſhment in the next life: and wh • n for that cauſe, he calleth in the Scriptu • es, Veſſels of his fury, o • Veſſels to ſh • w his fury upon.

A third reaſon to perſwade us of the gr • at • eſſe of theſe puniſhments, may be the marvellous patience, and long-ſuffering of God in this life. As for example, in that he ſuffereth divers men from one ſin to another, from one day to another, from one year to another, to ſpend all in diſhonour, and diſpite of his Majeſtie, adding offence to offence, and refuſing all perſwaſions, allurements, good inſpirations, or other means of friendſhip, that his mercy can deviſe to offer for their amendments, and what man in the world could ſuffer this? or what mortall heart could ſhew ſuch patience? But now if all this ſhould not be requited with ſeverity of puniſhment, in the world to come, upon the obſtinate, it might ſeeme againſt the Law of Juſtice, and equitie, and one arme in God, might ſeeme longer then the other. Paul doth touch this reaſon, in his Epiſtle to the Romans, where hee ſaith, Doſt thou not know, that the benignity of God, is uſed to bring thee to repentance? And thou by thy hard, and impenitent heart, doſt hoord up vengeance unto thy ſelfe, againſt the day of wrath, and appearance of Gods juſt judgement, which ſhall reſtore to every man according to his works? He uſeth heare the words of hoording, up of vengeance, to ſignifie that even as the covetous man, doth hoord up money, to money, dayly to make his heap great; ſo the unrepentant ſinner, doth hoord up ſinne to ſinne, and God on the contrary ſide, hoordeth up vengeance to vengeance, untill his meaſure be full, to reſtore in the end, meaſure againſt meaſure, as the Prophet ſaith, and to pay us home, according to the multitude of our abominations. This God meant, when he ſaid to Abraham, that their iniquities was n • t yet full up. Alſo in the Revelation of St. John, when he uſed this concluſion of that Boo • e. He that doth evill, let him doe yet more evill, and he that ly • th in filth, let him yet become more filthy: for behold, I come quickly, and my reward is with me, to render to every man according to his deeds.

By which words, God ſignifieth, that his bearing and tollerating with ſinners in this life, is an argument • f his greater ſeverity in the life to come. Which the Prophet D • vid alſo declareth, when talking of a careleſſe ſinner, he ſaith, The Lord ſhall ſcoffe at h • m foreſeeing that his day ſhall come. This day (no doubt) is to be underſtood, the day of account, and puniſhment after this life; for ſo doth God more at large, declare himſelfe in another place, in theſe words. And thou Son of man, thus ſaith the Lord God; The end is com • , now (I ſay) the end is come upon thee, and I will ſhew in thee my furie; and I will judge thee, according to thy wayes; I will lay againſt thee all thy abominations, and m •• e eye ſhall not ſpare thee; neither will I take any mercie upon thee; but I will put thine own waies upon thee, and thou ſhalt know that I am the Lord. Behold, affliction commeth on, the end is come, the end (I ſay) is come, that watched againſt thee; and behold it is come: cruſhing is come upon thee, the time is come, the day of ſlaughter is at hand; ſhortly I will powre out my wrath upon thee: and I will fill my fury in thee; & I wil judge thee according to thy waies; and I will lay all thy wickedneſſe upon thee, mine eye ſhall not pitty thee, neither will I take any comp • ſſion upon thee, but I will lay thy waies upon thee, and thine abominations in the middeſt of thee, and thou ſhalt know that I am the Lord that ſtriketh. Hitherto is the ſpeech of God himſelfe.

Seeing then, we n • w underſtand in generall, that the puniſhments of God in the life to come, are moſt certain to be great and ſevere t • all ſuch as fall into them, for which c •• ſe the Apoſtle ſaith, It is a fearefull thing to fall into the hands of the living G •• . Let us conſider ſomewhat in particular, what manner of pains, and puniſhmens they ſhall be.

And firſt of all touching the place of puniſhment, appointed for the damned, commonly called Hell. The Scripture in divers places, and Languages, uſed divers names, but all tending to expreſſe the grivouſneſs of puniſhment there ſuffered. As in Latine it is called Infernus, a place beneath, or under ground, as moſt of the old Fathers doe i • terpret. But whether it be under ground or no; moſt certaine it is, that it is a place moſt oppoſite to heaven, which is ſaid to be above: And this name is uſed for to ſignifie, the miſerable ſuppreſſing and • urling down of the damned, to be troden under the feet, not only of God, but alſo of good men for ever; for ſo ſaith the Scripture, Behold the day of the Lord cometh, burning like a furnace; and all proud and wicked men ſhall be ſtraw to that furnace, and you that feare my name, ſhall tread them downe, and they ſhall be as burnt Aſhes under the ſoles of your feet in that day. And this ſhall be one of the greateſt miſeries that can happen to the proud and ſtout Potentates of the world, to be thrown down with ſuch contempt; and to be troden under feet of them; whom they ſo much deſpiſed in this world. The Hebrew word which the Scripture uſeth for Hell, is Sheol, which ſignifieth a great ditch, or dungeon, in which ſence, it is alſo called in the Apocalips, Lacus irae Dei, The Lake of the wrath of God. And again, A Poole burning with fire and brimſton. Alſo in the Goſpel, it is called utter darkneſſe: And Job, ſaith of i • , there dwelleth no order but everlaſting horror. Having now in ſome part declared the names, and thereby alſo in part the nature. I • rem • ineth now, that we conſider, what manner of paines men ſuffer there. For declaration whereof, we muſt no • e, that as Heaven, and Hell are contrary, aſſigned to contrary perſons, for contrary cauſes, ſo have they in all reſpects contrary properties, conditions, and • ff • cts; in ſuch ſort, as whatſoever is ſpoken of the felicity of the one, may ſe • ve to inferre the contrary of t • e other. As when Saint P • ul ſaith, That no eye hath ſeen, nor eare heard, nor heart conceived, the joyes that God ha • h •• epare • f • r them that ſhal • be ſaved. We may inferre that the paine of the damned muſt b • as great.

A a ne, when the Scripture ſaith, that the felicity of them in heaven, is a perfect felicity, containing all goodneſſe, ſo that no kind of pleaſure that can be imagined, which they have not; we muſt thinke on the contrary part, that the miſery of the damned, muſt be alſo a perfect miſery, c • n aining all afflictions that may be, without wanting any. So that as the • appineſſe of the good is infinite, and • niverſall: ſo alſo is the calamity of t • e wick • d infinite, and univerſall. Now 〈◊〉 •• is life, al the in 〈…〉 • nd paines, which fall upon men, are but pa • ticular, and no • u • iverſall. As f •• example, We ſee one man pained in h • s eyes, another in his back, which particuler paines, notwithſtanding ſometimes are ſo extream, as life is not able to reſiſt them, and a man would not ſuffer them long for the wining many worlds together.

But ſuppoſe now a man were tormented in all the parts of his body at once, as in his head, his eyes, his tongue his teeth, his throat, his ſtomack, his belly, his back, his heart, his ſides, his thyes, and in all the joynts of his body, beſides, ſuppoſe (I ſay) he were moſt cruelly tormented with extream pains in all theſe parts; together, without caſe or intermiſſion; what thing could be more miſerable then this? what ſight more lamentable? If thou ſhouldeſt ſee a dogg lye in the ſtreete ſo afflicted, I know thou couldeſt not but take compaſſion on him.

Well then, conſider what difference there is between abiding thoſe pains for a week, or for all eternity? in ſuffering them upon a ſoft bed, or upon a burning gridiron, or boyling furnace; Among a mans friends comforting him, or among the furies in Hell, whipping and tormenting him.

Conſider this (I ſay) gentle Reader, and if thou wouldeſt take a great deal of pains, rather then abide the one, in this life: be content to ſuſtain a little pain, rather then to incu • the other in the life to come.

But to conſider theſe things yet further, not only all theſe parts of the body, which have been inſtruments to ſin, ſhall be tormented together, but alſo every ſence, both externall and internall; for the ſame cauſe ſhall be afflicted with his particuler torment, contrary to the obj • ct wherein it delighted moſt, and took pleaſure in this world.

As if for example; the lacivious eyes, were afflicted with the ugly and fearfull ſight of Devills, the delicate cares, with the horrible noyes of damned ſpirits, the nice ſmell with poyſoned ſt • nch of brimſtone, and other unſupportable filth, the dainty taſte, with moſt ravonous hunger, and thirſt, and all the ſenſible parts of the body, with burning fire.

Again, the Imagina • ion ſhall be tormented with the apprehenſion of pain • s preſent, and to come. The memory, with the remembrance of pleaſures 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 paſt; the underſtanding with conſideration of the felicity loſt, and the miſery now come on.

O poor Chriſtian, what wilt thou do a midſt the multitude of ſo grievous calamities? It is a wonderfull matter, and able (as one further faith) to make a reaſonable man go out of his wits, to conſider what God hath revealed unto us, in the Scriptures, of the dreadfull Circumſtance of this puniſhment, and yet to ſee how little the retchleſſe men of the world do feare it.

Now is the time we may avoyde all, now is the time we may put our ſelves out of danger, of theſe matters; now (I ſay) if we reſolve our ſelves out of hand, for we know not what will become of us to morrow. It may be to morrow, our hearts will be as hard, and careleſſe of theſe things, as they have been heretofore.

Reſolve thy ſelf therefore (my dear brother) if thou be wiſe, and clear thy ſelf from this danger; while God is willing to receive thee, and moveth thee thereunto by theſe meanes, as he did the rich man by Moſes, and the Prophets, while he was yet in his proſperity.

Let his example be often before thine eyes, and conſider it throughly, and it ſhall do thee good, God is a mereifull God, and a wonderfull God, and to ſhew his patience, and infinite goodneſſe, he woeth us in this life, ſeeketh unto us, and layeth himſelf, (as it were) at our feete, to move us to our own good, to win us, to draw us, and to ſave us from perdition.

But after this life, he altereth his courſe of dealing, he turneth over the leaf, and changeth his ſtile; Of a Lamb, he becometh a Lyon to the wicked. And of a Saviour, a juſt and ſevere puniſher.

What can be ſaid, or done more, to move us? He that is forewarned, and ſeeth his own danger before his, face & yet is not ſtirred, nor made the more warie, or fearfull thereby, but notwithſtanding, will come, or ſlide into the ſame, may well be pittied, but ſurely by no means, can he be helped. making himſelf incapable of all the remedies that may be uſed.

Of the moſt honourable and munificent rewards propoſed, to all them that truely ſerve God.

THe reaſons, and conſiderat • ons, laid down before, in the former diſcourſe, might well be ſufficient to ſtirre up the heart of any reaſonable Chriſtian, to take in hand this reſolution; whereof, and whereupon I ſo much covet to perſwade thee (for thy onely good and gaine) gentle Reader. But that all hearts are not of one conſtitution, in this reſpect, not all drawn and ſtirred, with the ſame meanes. I purpoſe to adjoyne here another conſideration, whereunto each man is commonly proane by nature. And therefore I am in hope, it will be more forcible to that we goe about, then any elſe, that hitherto hath been ſpoken. I meane then to treat of the ben • fits, which are reaped by the ſervice of God; of the gaine drawn thence, and of the good pay and moſt liberall reward, which God performeth to his ſervants, above all the maſters created, that may be ſerved.

And though the juſt fear of puniſhment (if we ſerve him not) might be ſufficient to drive us to this reſolution; and the infinite benefits already received, induce us to the ſame, in reſpect of gratitude: Yet am I content ſo far to enlarge this liberty to the (good Reader) that except I ſhew this reſolution, (which I crave) to be more gainefull and profitable, then any thing elſe in the world that can be thought of; thou ſhalt not be bound unto it for any thing, that hitherto hath been ſaid in that behalfe. For as God in all things, is a God of great Majeſtie, full of bounty, liberality, and princely magnificence; ſo is he in this point above all other, in ſuch ſort, as albeit, whatſoever we doe, or can do, is but due debt unto him, and of it ſelfe deſerveth nothing. Yet of this munificent Majeſtie, he letteth paſſe no one jot of our ſervice unrewarded, no not ſo much as a cup of cold water.

God commanded Abraham to ſacrifice unto him his onely Sonne Iſack which he loved ſo much; but when he was ready to doe the ſame, God ſaid, doe it not; It is enough for me, that I ſee thy obedience. And becauſe thou haſt not refuſed to doe it, I ſweare to thee (ſaith he) by my ſelfe, that I will multiply thy ſeed, as the ſtarres of heaven, and the ſands of the Sea: and among them alſo one ſhall be Chriſt the Saviour of the world. Was not this good pay for ſo little paines? King David, one night began to think with himſelfe, that he had ow a houſe of Cedar, and the Arke of God lay but under a Tent, and therefore reſolved to build a Houſe for the ſaid Arke: which onely cogitation, God took in ſo good part, as he ſent Nathan the Prophet unto him preſently to refuſe the thing: but yet to tell him, that forſomuch, as he had determined ſuch a matter, God would build a houſe, or rather a K • ngdome to him and his poſteritie; which ſhould laſt for ever; and from which he would never take away his mercy; which promiſe we ſee now fulfilled in Chriſt; what ſhould I recite many like examples; Chriſt giveth a generall note hereof, when he calleth the workmen, & payeth to each man his wages, ſo duly; as alſo when he ſaith of himſelf, Behold, I come quickly, and my reward is with me: by which place is evident, that God ſuffereth no labour in his ſervice to be loſt, or unpaid. And albeit, he payeth alſo, and that abundantly in this life: yet, as by thoſe two examples appeareth, he deferreth his chiefe pay unto his coming in the end of the day, that is after this life, in the reſurrection of the juſt; as himſelfe ſaith in another place, of this payment then reſerved for Gods ſervants in the life to come.

We are now to conſider, what, and what manner a thing it is, and whether it be worth ſo much labour and travell, as the ſervice of God requireth, or no.

And firſt of all, if we will beleeve the holy Scripturs, calling it a Kingdome, an heavenly Kingdome, an everlaſting Kingdome, a moſt bleſſed Kingdome. We muſt needes confeſſe it to be a marvellous great reward. For that worldly Princes, doe not uſe to give Kingdoms to their ſervants, for recompence of their labours: and if they did, or were able to doe it; yet could it be neither heavenly, nor everlaſting, nor a bleſſed Kingdome.

Secondly, if we credit that which St. Paul ſaith of it; that neither eye hath ſeen, nor eare heard, nor heart of man conceived, how great a matter it is; Then muſt we yet admit a greater opinion thereof: for that we have ſeen many wonderfull things in our dayes, we have heard more wonderfull, we may conceive moſt wonderfull, and almoſt infinit. How then ſhall we come to underſtand the greatneſſe, and value of the rewards? ſurely no tongue created, either of man, or Angel, can expreſſe the ſame. No imagination conceive, no underſtanding comprehend it, Chriſt himſelf hath ſaid, no man knoweth it, but he that injoyeth it, and therefore he calleth it, hidden Manna, in the ſame place; notwithſtanding as it is reported of a learned Geometrician, that finding the length of Hercules foote upon the hill of Olimpus, drew out his whole body by the proportion of that one part: ſo we by ſome thing only ſet down in Scripture, and by ſome other Circumſtances, agreeing thereunto, may frame a conjecture of the matter, though it come far behind the thing it ſelf.

I have ſhewed before, how the Scripture calleth it a heavenly, and everlaſting, and a moſt bleſſed Kingdom; whereby is ſignified, that all muſt be Kings, that are admitted thither: To take effect it is called in other places; a Crown of glory, a Throne of Majeſty, a Paradice, or place of pleaſure; a life everlaſting. St. John the Evangeliſt, being in his baniſhment, by ſpeciall priviledge, made privy to ſome knowledge, and feeling thereof, as well for his own comfort, as for ours, taketh in and to deſcribe it by compariſon of City, affirming that the whole City, was of pure gold, with a great, and high wall of the precious ſtone, called Jaſpis. This wall had alſo 12. foundations, made of 12. diſtinct precious ſtones, which he there nameth: alſo 12. gates, made of 12. rich ſtones, called Margarites, and every gate hath an entire Margarite. The ſtreets of the City, were paved with gold, interlaid alſo with pearles, and precious ſtones. the light of the City, was the clearneſſe, and ſhining of Chriſt himſelf, ſiting in the midſt thereof.

From whoſe ſeate proceeded a River of water, as cleare as Criſtall, to refreſh the City, and on both ſides of the bankes, there grew the tree of life giving out continuall and perpetual fruit: There was no night in that City, nor any defiled thing entred there but they that are within ſhall raign (ſaith he) for ever, and ever.

By this deſcription, of the moſt rich and precious things that this world hath, St. John would give us to underſtand the infinite value, glory, and majeſty of this felicity, prepared for us in heaven: though, as I have noted before) it being the princely inheritance of our Saviour Chriſt, the Kingdom of his Father, the eternall habitation of the holy Trinity, prepared before all worlds, to ſet out the glory, and expreſſe the power, of him that hath no end, not meaſure, either in power, or glory: we may very well think with St. Paul, that neither tongue can declare it, nor heart can imagine it.

O miſerable Children of men, that are born to ſo rare and ſinguler a dignity, and yet cannot be brought, to conſider love, or eſteem of the ſame.

Other ſuch conſiderations there be, to ſhew the greatneſſe of this felicity, is that if God hath given ſo many pleaſures, and comfortable guifts in this life (as we ſee are in this world) being a place of banniſhment, a place of ſinners, a vail of miſery, and the time of repenting, weeping and wailing, what will he do in the life to come, to the juſt, to his friends, in the time of joy, and marriage of his Son? This was a moſt forceable conſideration, with good St. Auguſtine, who in the ſecret ſpeech of his ſoule with God, ſaid thus. O Lord, if thou for this vile body of ours, give us ſo great, and innumerable benefits, from the Firmament, from the Ayre, from the Earth, from the Sea, by light, by darkneſſe, by heate, by ſhadow, by dewes, by ſhowers, by winds, by raines, by birds, by fiſhes, by beaſts, by trees, by multitude of hearbes, and variety of plants, and by the miniſtry of all thy Creatures.

O ſweet Lord, what manner of things, how great, how good, and how innumerable are thoſe which thou haſt prepared in our heavenly country where w • ſhall ſee thee face to face? If thou do 〈◊〉 great things for us in our priſon, wh •• wilt thou give us in our pallace, If th •• giveſt ſo many things in this world, t • good and evill men together, wh •• haſt thou layd up for good men onl • in the world to come? If thine enemie • and friends together are ſo well provided for in this life, what ſhall th • only friends receive in the life to com •• If there be ſo great ſolaces in the •• dayes of tears, what joy ſhall there b •• in that day of marriage, if our goale 〈◊〉 containe ſo great matters, what ſha •• our Countrie, and Kingdome doe.

O my Lord and God, thou art a gre •• God, and great is the multitude of th • magnificence, and ſweetneſſe. And 〈◊〉 there is no end of thy greatneſſe, n • number of thy wiſdom; nor meaſure 〈◊〉 thy benignity; ſo is their neither • nd numbers nor meaſure of thy rewar • towards them that love, and faithfully ſerve thee. Hitherto St. Auſtin. Anothe • way to conjecture of this felicity is to conſider the great promiſes which Go • maketh in the Scriptures, to honor▪ and glorifie man in the life to come▪ whoſoever ſhall honour me (ſaith God) I will gloryfie him.

And the Prophet David, as it were complaineth joyfully, that Gods friends were ſo much honoured by him, which he might with much more cauſe have ſaid, if he had lived in the new Teſtament, and had heard that promiſe of Chriſt, that his Servants ſhould ſit down and banquet, and that himſelf would ſerve, and miniſter unto them in the Kingdom of his Father.

But now to come to that point of this felicity, which doth appertain to the ſoul, as the principal part, it is to be underſtood; that albeit there be many things that do concur to this felicity, for the accompliſhment, & perfection of happyneſſe, yet the fountain of a • l is, but one onely thing called by Divines, the ſight of God, that maketh us happy. This only ſight of God is our happineſſe: If we would enter into theſe conſiderations, no doubt but we ſhould be more inflamed, with the love of this felicity (prepared for us) then we are: and conſequently, ſhould ſtrive more to gain it, then w • do. And to the end thou mayſt conceive, ſome more feeling in the matter (gentle Reader) conſider a little with me, what a joyfull day ſhall that be at thy houſe, when having lived in th • fear of God, and archieved in his ſervice the end of thy peregrination (b • the meanes of death) to paſſe fro • miſery, and labour to immortality; an • in that paſſage, (when other men begin to feare) thou ſhalt lift up th • head in hope, according as Chriſt promiſeth, for that the time of thy ſalvation cometh.

Tell me, what a day ſhall that be when thy ſoule ſtepping forth of priſon, and conducted to the Tabernacl • of Heaven, and ſhall be received the • with the honourable Companies, an • Troopes of that place? with all thoſ • bleſſed ſpirits mentioned in Scripture • as Principalities, Powers, Vertue • Dominations, Thrones, Angels, Archangels, Cherubines, and Seraphines alſo with the holy Apoſtles, an • Diſciples of Chriſt, Patriarks, Prophets, Martyrs, Innocents, Confe • ſors, and Saints of God?

All which ſhall triumph at thy Coronation, and glorification. What joy will thy ſoule receive at that day, when ſhee ſhall be preſented in the preſence of theſe States, before the Seat & Majeſtie of the bleſſed Trinity, with recitall, and declaration of all thy good works, and travels, ſuffered for the love & ſervice of God? When there ſhall be laid down in that honourable Conſiſtory, all thy vertuous deeds, al thy labors that thou haſt taken in thy calling; all thy almes, all thy prayers, all thy faſting, all thy innocence of life, all thy patience in injuries, all thy conſtancie in adverſities, all thy temperance in meats, all thy vertues of thy whole life? When all (I ſay) ſhall be recounted there, al commended, all rewarded; ſhalt thou not ſee now, the value & profit of a vertuous life? ſhalt thou not confeſs, that gainful, & honorable, is the ſervice of God? Shalt thou not now be glad, & bleſs the hour, wherein firſt thou reſolvedſt thy ſelf to leave the ſervice of the world, to ſerve God? Shalt thou not think thy ſelfe to be beholden to him that perſwaded thee unto it? Yes verily: But yet more then this, when as being ſo neere thy paſsage here, thou ſhalt conſider into what a port, and haven of ſecurity thou art come, and ſhalt looke backe upon the dangers which thou haſt paſſed, and wherein other men are yet in hazzard; thy cauſe of joy ſhall greatly be increaſed. For thou ſhalt ſee evidently, how infinite times, thou wert in danger to have periſhed in that journey, if God had not held his provident hand over thee.

Thou ſhalt ſee the dangers wherein other men are; the death and damnation, whereinto many of thy friends and acquaintance have fallen; the eternall paines of Hell incurred by many, that uſed to laugh and be merry with them in this world. All which ſhall augment the felicity of this thy bleſſed eſtate. And now for thy ſelfe, thou mayeſt be ſecure thou art out of all danger for ever and ever.

There is now no more need of feare, of watchings, of labour, of care; thou mayeſt lay down all armour now, better then the Children of Iſrael might have done when they had gotten the Land of promiſe; for there is no more Enemy to aſſault thee, there is no wily Serpent to beguile thee. All is peace, all is reſt, all is joy, all is ſecurity. Thy onely exerciſe, muſt be now to rejoyce, to tryumph, to ſing Hallelujah to the Lambe, which hath brought thee to this felicitie, and will keep thee in the ſame, world without end.

But now to draw towards an end in this matter, (though there be no end in the thing it ſelfe) let the Chriſtian Reader conſider, whereto he is borne, and whereof he is in poſſibilitie if he will. He is born heire apparent to the Kingdome of heaven, a Kingdome without end, a Kingdome without meaſure, a Kingdome of bliſſe, the Kingdome of God himſelf: he is borne to be joynt heire with Jeſus Chriſt, the Sonne of God, to raigne with him, to triumph with him, to ſit in judgement with him, to judge the very Angels with him. What more glory can be thought upon, except it were to become God himſelfe? All the joyes, all the riches, all the glory that heaven containeth, ſhall be powred out upon him, who wil not eſteeme of this royall Inheritance? Eſpecially, ſeeing that now we have ſo good opportunity, to the obtaining thereof, by the benefit of our redemption, and grace purchaſed to us therein.

Tell me now (Gentle Reader) why wilt thou not accept of this his offer? Why wilt thou not accompt of this his Kingdome? Why wilt thou not buy this glory of him, for ſo little a labour, as he requireth? There is not the wickedeſt man in the world, but taketh more travell and pains in going to Hell, then the moſt painefull ſervant of God in obtaining of heaven. Follow thou not their folly then (deare brother) for thou ſhalt ſee them ſuffer greevouſly for it one day; when thy heart ſhall be full gald thou hadſt no part among them. Let them goe now, and beſtow their time in vanitie, in pleaſures, in delights of the world. Let them build Pall ces, purchaſe Dignities, and peeces and patches of ground together; Let them hunt after Honours, and build Caſtels in the Ayre, the day will come (if thou beleeve Chriſt himſelfe) wherein thou ſhalt have ſmall cauſe to envie their felicity.

To conclude then, this prize is ſet up for them that will ſtrive for it. For tis not every one that ſaith to Chriſt, Lord, Lord, that ſhall enter into the kingdome of heaven: but they onely which doe the will of Christ his Father in heaven. Though this Kingdome of Chriſt be ſet out to all: yet every man ſhall not come to raigne with Chriſt; but ſuch onely, as ſhall be content to ſuffer with Chriſt. Thou art therefore to ſit down, and conſider, according to thy Saviours councell what thou wilt doe, whether thou have ſo much ſpirituall money as is ſufficient to build this Towre, or no: That is, whether thou have ſo much good will as to beſtow the paines of ſuffering with Chriſt, (if it be rather to be called pain then pleaſure) that ſo thou maiſt raigne with him in his Kingdome. This is the queſtion, that is the very whole iſsue of the matter, that hath been ſpoken before, either of thy particular end, or of the Majeſtie, bounty, and juſtice of God; and of the account he wil demand of thee. Alſo of the puniſhment or reward, laid up for thee. All this is ſpoken to this end, that thou wouldeſt finally reſolve what thou ſhouldeſt doe; and not to paſs over thy t me in careleſs negligence, as many doe: never 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 ſpying their owne errour, untill it be too late to amend it. For the love of God, then (deare brother) and for the love that thou beareſt to thine owne ſoule, ſhake off this dangerous ſecurity, which fleſh and blood is wont to lull men in; and make ſome earneſt reſolution, for looking for thy ſoule in the life to come, remember often that worthy ſentence; This life is but a moment of time, whereof all eternity of life, or death to come dependeth. If it be a moment, and a moment of ſo great importance, how is it paſt over by worldly men, with ſo little care as it is? And if all this thatc hath been ſaid (gentle Reader) will not prevaile with thee, little hope is there, that any other will doe thee good. Wherefore here I end, beſeeching our Lord God, and Saviour Jeſus Chriſt, which was content to pay his own blood, for the purchaſing this noble inheritance unto us, give us his holy grace, to eſteeme of it as the great waight of the matter requireth; and not by negligence to loſe our portions therein.

Of the choiſe of Religion.

VAriety in any thing diſturbeth the mind, and leaves it waving in a dubious trouble; and then, how eaſie is it, to ſway the mind to either ſide? But among all the diverſities that wee meet with, none troubles us more, then thoſe that are of Religion. Tis rare to finde two Kingdoms one; as if every Nation had (if not a God, yet at leaſt) a way to God by it ſelfe. This ſtumbles the unſetled ſoule: that not knowing which way to take, without danger of erring, ſticks to none; ſo dyes, ere he doe that for which he was made to live, the ſervice of the true Almighty.

We are borne as men ſet down in the middeſt of a Wood: circled round with ſeverall voyces calling us. At firſt we ſee not, which will lead us the right way out: So divided in our ſelves, we ſit ſtill, and follow none, remaining blind in a flat Atheiſme; which ſtrickes deep at the Foundation, both of our own, & the whole worlds happineſs. Tis true, if we let our dimmed underſtanding ſearch in theſe varieties (which yet is the onely meanes that we have in our ſelves, to do it with) we ſhall certainly loſe our ſelves in our windings; there being in every of them, ſome thing to beleeve, above that reaſon which leads us to the ſearch.

Reaſon gives us the Annatomy of things, and illuſtrates with a great deale of plaineneſs, all the waies that ſhee goes; but her line is too ſhort to reach the depths of Religion: Religion carries a confutation along with it: and with a high hand of ſoveragnity, awes the inquiſitive tongue of nature: and when ſhee would ſometimes murmur privately, ſhe will not let her ſpeake; Reaſon like a milde Prince, is content to ſhew his ſubjects the cauſes of his commands, and rule; Religion with a higher ſtraine of Majeſtie, bids doe it, without inquiring further then the bare command, which without doubt, is a meanes of procuring mighty reverence. What we know not, we reverently admire; what we doe know, is in ſome ſort ſubject to the triumphs of the ſoul, that hath diſcovered it: and this not knowing, makes us not able to judge. Every one tells us, his own is the trueſt, and there is none, I thinke, but hath been ſealed with the blood of ſome, nor can I ſee, how we may more then proprobably, prove any; they being all ſet in ſuch heights, as they are not ſubject to the demonſtrations of reaſon.

And as wee may eaſier ſay, what a ſoule is not, then what it is: ſo we may more eaſily diſproove a Religion for falſe, then proove it for one that is true. There being in the world farre more error then truth. Yet is there beſides, another miſery, neere as great as this, and that is, that we cannot be our owne chouſers, but muſt take it upon truſt from others. Are we not oft, befor we can diſcerne the true, brought up and grounded in the falſe, ſuckng Hereſie with our milke in childhood? Nay, when we come to yeares of abler judgement, wherein the mind is grown up compleate man; we examine not the ſoundneſs, but retaine it meerely, becauſe our Fathers taught it us: what a lamentable weakneſs is this in man, that he ſhould build his eternall wellfare, on the approbation of, perhaps, a weake and ignorant Parent? Oh, why is our neglect, the moſt in that, wherein our care ſhould be greateſt? How few are there which fulfill that precept, of trying all things, and taking the beſt? Aſsuredly though Faith be above Reaſon, yet is there a reaſon to be given of our faith: he is a foole that beleeves he knows not what, nor why.

Among all the diverſities of Religion, that the world holds, I think it may ſtand with moſt ſafety, to take that, which makes moſt for Gods glory, and mans quiet.

I confeſs, in all the Treatiſes of Religion that I ever ſaw,; I find none that I ſhould ſo ſoone follow, as that of the Church of England: I never found ſo ſound foundation, ſo ſure a direction for Religion, as the Song of the Angels at the birth of Chriſt. Glory be to God on high. There is the honour, the reverent obedience, and the admiration, and the adoration which we ought to give him. On earth peace. This is the effect of the former, working in the hearts of men, whereby the world appeares in his nobleſt beuty, being an intire chaine of inter-mutuall amity. And good will towards men. This is Gods mercy, to reconcile man to himſelfe after his fearfull disſertion of his maker.

Search all Religions the world through, and you will find none, that aſcribes ſo much to God, nor that conſtitutes ſo firm a love among men, as does the eſtabliſht Doctrine of the Proteſtant Church among us. All other, either detract, from God, or infringe the peace of men.

The Jewes in their Talmod ſay, before God made this, he made many other worlds, and mard them again, to keepe himſelf from idleneſs.

The Turkes in their Alcaron, bring him in diſcourſing with the Angels, and they telling him, of things which before he knew not: and after they make him ſweare by Mahomets pen and lines, and by Figs and Olives.

The Papiſts portray him as an old man, and by this meanes diſ-deifie him, derogating alſo, from his Royalty, by their odious interpoſing of merits; and for the ſociety of men, what bloody tenents do they all hold? as he deſerves not the name of Rabby, that hates not his enemy to death. That 'tis no ſin to reven • e injuries: that 'tis meritorious to kill an Heritike, with whom no faith is to be kept, even to the ungluing of the whole worlds frame, contexted only, by comerſe, and contracts.

What abhor'd barbariſme, did Selinus leave in precept to his Succeſsour Soliman? which though I am not certain, they were ratified by their Mufties. I am ſure they are practiced by the Inheritors of the Empire. By this taſte learn to deteſt them all.

Think not thy kindreds murther ill, tis none, By thy ſlain brothers, to ſecure thy Throne. This is the way, how kingly names may be, In faſt, and from diſtructive terrors free.

In other Religions of the Heathen, what fond opinions have they held of their gods? reviling with unſeemly threats; whē their affaires have thwarted them: as if allowing them the name, they would conſerve the Numen to themſelves: In their ſacrifices, how bucherly cruell? as if (as tis ſaid of them) they thought by inhumanity to appeaſe the wrath of an offended Deity. The Religion which we now profeſs doth eſtabliſh all in another ſtrain; what makes more for Gods glory? what more for the mutuall love of man, then the Goſpel? all our abilities of good we offer to God, as the Fountain from whence they ſtreame. Can the day be light, and that light not come from the Sun? can a Clock go without a waight to move it? or a keeper to ſet it? as for man, it teaches him to tread on Cotton, milds his wilder temper, and learnes him in his patience, to affect his enemies, and for that which doth partake on both: it makes juſt God, a friend to unjuſt man; without being unjuſt, either to himſelf or man.

Sure it could be no other then the invention of a Deity, to find out a way, how man that had juſtly made himſelfe unhappy, ſhould with a full ſatisfaction to exacteſt juſtice, be made again moſt happy. I would wiſh no man, that is able to trye, to take his Religion upon others words: but once reſolved in it, 'tis dangerous to neglect, where we know we do owe a ſervice. For

God neglected plentiouſly, Plagued mournfull Ittaly.

And this before Horrace his time, when God is neglected of man, man ſhall be condemned of God; when man abridgeth God of his honour, God will ſhorten man of his happineſs.

It cannot but be beſt to give all to him, of whom, whatſoever we have, we have received and we hold: I believe it ſafteſt, for to take that Religion, which moſt magnifies God, and makes moſt for the peaceable converſation of men. For as we cannot asſcribe too much to him, to whom we owe more, then we can asſcribe; So I think, the moſt ſplended eſtate of man, is that, which comes neareſt to his firſt Creation; wherein all things wrought together, in the pleaſant imbracements of mutuall love and Concord.

That Divinity does not croſſe nature ſo much as exceede it.

THey that are Divines without Philoſophy, can hardly maintain the truth in their diſputations: 'tis poſſible they may have an infuſed faith, ſufficient for themſelves: but if they have not reaſon too, they will ſcarcely make others capable of their inſtruction: certainly, Divinity, and morallity are not ſo averſe, but that they well may live together. For, if nature be rectified by Religion, Religion is ſtrengthned again by nature: And as ſome hold of fate, that there is nothing happens below, but is writ above in the Starrs, only we have not skill to find it: So I beleeve there is nothing in Religion that is contrary to reaſon, if we knew it rightly. For converſation among men, and the true happineſs of man, Philoſophy hath agreed with Scripture.

Nay, I think I may alſo adde, for defining of God, except the Trinity, as neare as man can conceive him: how exact hath he made Juſtice? how buſie to find out truth? how rightly directed love? exalting with much earneſtneſs, all thoſe graces, that are any way amiable: He that ſeekes in Plato, ſhall find him, making God the ſolum ſummum bonum. To which a pure, and vertuous life is the way. For defining God, my opinion is, that man, neither by divinity, nor Philoſophy can, as they ſay, tell what he is. It is fitter for man to adore, and admire him, then in vain to ſtudy to comprehend him. God is for man to ſtand amazed, & wonder at.

The clogged and droſſie ſoule, can never ſound him, who is the unimaginable Fountain of ſpirits, and from whom all things by a gradnate derivation, have their light, life, and being. In theſe things they agree. But I find three other things wherein Divinity overtoureth nature: In the Creation of the world, in the redemption of man, and in the way and rites, wherein God will be worſhipped: In the Creation of the world, no Philoſophy, could ever reach at that, which Moſes taught us. Here the Humaniſts were all at a ſtand, and far, all their conjectures, being rather witty, and conceits, then true and reall. Some would have all things from fire, ſome from Ayre, ſome from water, ſome from earth, ſome from numbers, ſome from attomies, from ſimples ſome, and ſome from compounds. Ariſtottle came the neareſt in finding out the trueſt materia prima; but becauſe he could not believe this made of nothing, he is content to erre, and think it was eternall. Surely, his conceit was as far from reaſon as the other, his reaſon might have fled unto omnipotency, as well as to eternity: And ſo indeed when Philoſophy hath gone as far as ſhe is able, ſhe ariveth at Almightineſſe, and in that Abbi is loſt, where not knowing the way, ſhe goeth but by gueſſe, and cannot tell when ſhe is, or right, or wrong; yet is ſhe rather ſubordinate, then contrary. Nature is not croſſe, but runs into omnipotency, and like a petty River, is ſwallowed in that bondles Main. For the redemption of man: Even the Scripture calles it a myſtery, and all that humanity could ever reach of this, was only a flying to the generall name of mercy, by the urgins of the Conſcience; They all knew they had failed and fallen, their own boſomes would tell 〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉 them thus: but the way how they might be reſtored, never fell into their heathen thoughts.

This was a worke that God declared onely to his own peculier: by the immediate revelation of his Word, & Will.

For the manner, how God would be worſhipped, no Naturaliſt could ever finde it out, till he himſelf gave directions from his ſacred Scripture. In the firſt Chapter to the Romans, St. Paul grants, That they may know God, through the viſibilities of his works: but for their ignorance in this, he ſayes: The wrath of God is revealed againſt them, becauſe that when they knew God, they glorified him not as God, but turned the glory of the incomparable God to the ſimilitude of the Image of a corruptible man, and of birds, and of foure-footed beaſts, and of creeping things. And theſe three things the Scripture teacheth us, which elſe we could never have learned, from all the Books in the world. Thus we ſee for Morality, nature ſtill is ſomething peart and vigorous. But in the things of God, it is confirmed that ſhee is thick ſighted, and cannot ſee them. Can a Flye comprehend man upon the top of a Monarchy? no more can man comprehend God in the height of Omn • potencie. There are as well miſteries for Faith, as cauſes for reaſons: This may guide me, when I have to deale with man: but in divine affaires, reaſon ſhall wait on Faith, and ſubmit to her prerogative. The Conſcience is great, but God is farre greater then it.

Of mans Imperfection..

OF my ſelf what can I doe without the hazzard of erring? nay, what can I thinke? nay, what can I not doe, or not thinke? even my beſt buſineſs, and my beſt vacancy, are works of offence, and errour; uncomfortable conſtitution of man: that canſt not but be bad, both in action and forbearance; corruption mixeth with our pureſt devotions: and not to performe them, is neglect: When we think not of God at all, we are impious and ungratefull: when we doe, we are not able to think aright. Imperfection ſwaies in all the weake diſpatches of the Palſied ſoul. If the Devill be abſent, our owne fraileties are his tempting Deputies. If thoſe forbeare, the meritorious world claps our cheeks, and fonds us to a cozening faile. So which way ſoever we turne, we are ſure to be bitten with the one, or the other head of this Cerberus. To what can we intend our ſelves, wherein there is not a Devill to entrap us? If we pray, how he caſts in wandring thoughts, or by our eyes, ſteale away our hearts, to ſome other object then God. If we heare he hath the ſame policie, and prejudicates our opinion with the man, or part of his doctrine. If we read, he perſwades to let reaſon judge, as well as Faith: So meaſuring by a falſe rule, he would make us beleeve, Divinity is much ſhort of what it ſhewes for. If we doe good works, he doth poyſon them with Pharaiſiſme, and make us by overvaluing loſe them. If we doe ill, he encourages us to a continuance: and at laſt accuſes us. If nothing, we neglect the good we ſhould doe. If we ſleep, he comes in dreames, and wantonneth the ill inclining ſoule: If we wake, we miſpend our time; or at beſt, doe good, not well. So by bad circumſtances, poyſon a well intended principall.

Even actions of neceſſitie, wee diſpatch not without a ſtaine: We drinke to exceſs, and the drowning of the braine. We eat, not to ſatisfie nature, but to overcharge her: and to venerate the unbridled ſpirits.

As a Mill wheele is continually turnd round, and ever drenched with a new ſtreame: ſo are wee alwaies hurried with ſucceſſions of various ſinnes. Like Arrowes ſhot in mighty windes, wee wander from the Bow that ſent us. Sometimes we thinke we doe things well: but when they are paſt, we are ſenſible of the tranſgreſſion. We progreſs in the waies of vice, and are conſtant in nothing, but perpetuall offending. You may ſee the thoughts of the whipping Satyriſt how divine they are.

Nature is motive in the queſt of ill, Stated in miſchiefe: all our ableſt skill Cannot know right from wrong: till wrong be done: Fixt nature will to condem'd cuſtoms run Ʋnchangeably: who to his ſins can ſet A certaine end? when hath he ever met Bluſhes once from his hardned forehead throwne? Who is it ſins, and is content with one?

Surely there will not a man be found that is able to anſwer to theſe quaeries; Their ſoules have ceeled eyes, that can ſee nothing but perfection in their own labours. It is not to any man given abſolutely, to be abſolute.

I will not be too forward in cenſuring the workes of others; nor will I ever do any, that I will not ſubmit to judgement, and correction: yet ſo, as I will be able, to give a reaſon, why I have ordered them as the world ſees.

Of truth and bitterneſſe in jeſts.

JT is not good for a man to be too tart in his jeſts, bitterneſs is for ſerious potions: not for healths of meeriment, and the jollities of a mirthfull feaſt. An offenſive man is the Devils bellowes, wherewith he blowes up contentions and jarres.

But among all paſſages of this nature, I find none more galling than an offencive truth; for thereby we run into two great errors.

One is, we childe that in a looſe laughter, which ſhould be grave, and ſavour both of love and pitty. So we rub him with a poyſoned oyle, which ſpreads the more for being put in ſuch a fleeting ſuppleneſs.

The other is, we deſend to particulars, and by that meanes, draw the whole Company to witneſs his diſgrace we break it on.

The Souldier is not noble, that makes himſelf ſport, with the wounds of his own Companion. Whoſoever will jeſt, ſhould be like him that flouriſhes at a ſhow: He may turne his weapon any way, but not any more, at one then at another.

In this caſe things like truth, are better then truth it ſelf, nor is it leſſe ill, then unſafe, to fling about this wormwood of the braine: Some noſes are too tender to indure the ſtrength of the ſmell. And though there be many like tiled houſes, that can admit a falling ſpark, unwarm'd; yet ſome again, are covered with ſuch light drye ſtraw, that with the eaſt touch they will kindle, and flame about your troubled eares: and when the houſe is on fire, it is no diſputing, with how ſmall a matter it came: it will quickly proceede to miſchief. Anger is but a ſtep from rage, and that is wildfire, which will not be extinguiſhed. I know, wiſe men are not too nimble at an injury: For, as with fire, the light ſtuffe, and rubbiſh, kindles ſooner, then the ſolid, and more compacted; ſo anger ſooner inflames a foole, then a man compoſed in his reſolutions. But we are not ſure alwayes to meete diſcreete ones: nor can we hope it, while we our ſelves are otherwiſe, in giving the occaſion.

Fooles are the greater number: wiſe men are like Timber trees in a wood, here and there one: and though they be moſt acceptable, to men, wiſe, like themſelves, yet have they never more need of wiſdom, then when they converſe with the ringing elboes: who, like corrupt Ayre, require many Antidotes, to keepe us from being infected: But when they grow bitter to a wiſe man, we are then worſe; for he ſees further into the diſgrace, and is able to harme us more.

Laughter ſhould dimple the cheeke, not furrow the brow into rudgedneſs: The birth is then prodigious, when miſchief is the child of mirth. All ſhould have liberty to laugh at a jeſt, but if it throwes a diſgrace upon one, like a crack of a ſtring it makes a ſtop in the Muſick. Flouts we may ſee proceed from an inward contempt, and there is nothing cuts deeper in a generous minde then ſcorne. Nature at firſt makes us all equall, we are differenced but by accident, and outwards; and I thinke it is a jealouſie that ſhe hath infuſed in man for the maintaining of her owne honour againſt externall cauſes, and though all have not wit to reject the Arrow, yet moſt have memory to retaine the offence; which they will be content to owne a while, that they may repay it both with more advantage and eaſe. 'Tis but an unhappy wit that ſtirs up enemies againſt the owner, a man may ſpit out his friend from his tongue, or laugh him into an enemy. Gall in mirth is an ill mixture, and ſometimes truth is bitterneſſe: I would wiſh any man to be pleaſingly merry, but let him beware he bring not truth on the ſtage like a want on with an edged weapon.

Of the uncertainty of life.

MIſerable brevity, more miſerable uncertainty of life; we are ſure we cannot live long, and uncertaine that we ſhall live at all, and even while I am writing this, I am not ſure my Pen ſhall end the ſentence; our life is ſo ſhort, that we cannot in it contemplate what our ſelves are, and ſo uncertaine as we cannot ſay, We will reſolve to doe it. Silence was a full anſwer in that Philoſopher, that being asked, What he thought of humane life, ſaid, Nothing, turn'd him round and vaniſht: like leaves on Trees, we are the ſport of every puffe that blows, and with the leaſt guſt we may be ſhaken from our life and nutriment: We travell, we ſtudy, we thinke to deſect the world with continuall ſearches, when while we are contriving but the neareſt way to it, Age, and conſumed yeares overtake us, and onely labour payes us the loſſes of our ill expended time: Death whiskes about the unthoughtfull world, and with a Pegaſian ſpeed f • yes upon unwearied man with the kick of his heele, or the daſh of his foot, ſpringing fountaine of teares of friends. If Nature had not made man an active Creature, that he ſhould be delighted in imployment, nothing would convince him of more folly then the durance of ſome enterpriſes that he takes in hand, for they are many times of ſuch a future length as we cannot in reaſon hope to live till their concluſion comes. We build as though we laid foundations for eternity, and the expeditions we take in hand, are many times the length of three or foure lives. How many Warriers have expired in their expugnations, leaving their breath in the places where they laid their Seige? Certainly, he that thinkes on lifes caſualties, can neither be careleſſe nor covetous: I confeſſe, we may live to the Spectacle and bearing-ſtaffe, to the ſtooping Back, to the Snow, or the ſlackneſſe of the declining Crowne, but how few are there that can unfold you a Diarie of ſo many leaves? More doe dye in the ſpring and ſummer of their yeares, then live • il autumne or their growned wint •• Wh •• 〈…〉 exhauſt his very vitality for the hoarding up of fatall Gold, and ſhall then thinke how a haire, or fly, may ſnatch him in a moment from it, how it quells his laborious hope, and puts his poſting • inde into a more ſafe and quiet pace: unleſſe we were ſure to injoy it, why ſhould any man ſtraine himſelfe for more then is convenient? I will never care too much for that I am not ſure to keepe, yet I know, ſhould all men reſpect but their owne time, an age or two would finde the world in ruine. So that for ſuch actions men may plead their charity, that though they live not to injoy thoſe things themſelves, they ſhall yet be beneficiall to poſterity: And I rather thinke this an inſtinct that God hath put in man for the conſervation of things, then an intended good of the Author to his followers. Thus, as in propagation we are more beholden to the pleaſure of our Parents, then their deſire of having us: So in matters of the world and fortune, the aimes of our Predeceſſors for themſelves have by the ſecret worke of providence caſt benefits upon us; I will not altogether blame him that I ſee begins things laſting, though they be vanities to him; becauſe he knowes not who ſhall enjoy them, yet they will be things well fitted for ſome that ſhall ſucceede them: They that doe me good and know not of it, are cauſes of my benefit, though I doe not owe them my thankes; and I will rather bleſſe them as inſtruments, then condemne them as not intenders.

Of Reward and Service.

WHen it lights upon a worthy nature, there is nothing procures a more faithfull ſervice then the Maſters liberality, nor is there any thing makes that appeare more then a true fidelity; they are each of other alternate Parents, begetting, and begotten; Certainly, if theſe were practiſed, great men need not ſo often change their followers, nor would the Patrons be abandoned by their o • d Attendants; rewards are not given, but payed to ſervants that be good, and wiſe, nor ought that blood to be accounted loſt, which is out-letted for a noble Maſter; worth will never faile to give deſert her bayes. A liberall Maſter that loves his Servant well, is in ſome ſort a god unto him, which may both give him bleſſings and protect him from danger. And beleeve it on the other ſide, a diligent and diſcreet ſervant is one of the beſt friends that a man can be bleſt withall; he can doe whatſoever a friend may, and will be commanded with leſſer hazzard of looſing; nay, he may in a kinde challenge a glory above his Maſter, for though it be harder to play a Kings part well, then 'tis to act a Subjects, yet Natures inclination is much more bent to rule then obey, ſervice being a condition which is not found in any Creatures of one kinde but man: Now if the queſtion be when men meet in theſe relations, Who ſhall the firſt begin, the lot will ſurely fall upon the ſervant, for he is tyed in duty to be diligent, and that ever bindes without exception. The Lord is tyed but by his Honour, which is voluntary, and not compulſive, liberality being a free adjection, and not a tye in his bargaine. 'Tis good ſometimes for a Lord to uſe a ſervant like a friend, like a companion, but 'tis alwaies fit for a ſervant to pay him the reverence due to a Maſter: pride becomes neither the Commander, nor the commanded. Every Family is but a ſeveralll plumbe of Feathers, the meaneſt is of the ſelfe ſame ſtuffe, only he that made the plumbe was pleaſed to ſet the Lord higheſt: the power of commanding is rather politicall then from equall natute.

The ſervice of man to man followed not the Creation, but the fall of man; and till Noah curſed his ſonne, the name of ſervant is not read in Scripture; ſince there is no abſolute freedome to be found below: Even Kings are but more ſplended Servants for the common Body. There is a mutuality between the Lord and Vaſſels. The Lord ſerves them of neceſſaries, and they him in pleaſures, and conveniencies; vertue is the trueſt liberty, nor is he free that ſtoops to paſſions, nor he in bondage that ſerves a noble Maſter. When Demonax ſaw one cruell in the beating of a ſervant; Eye (ſayes he) forbeare, leaſt by the world your ſelfe be taken for the ſervant. And if we have any faith in Claudian we may beleeve: That,

He knowes no bondage whom a good King ſwayes, For freedome never ſhines with clearer rayes, Than when brave Princes reigne.

Imperiouſneſſe turnes that ſervant into a ſlave, which moderation makes as an humble ſpeaking friend. Seneca begins an Epiſtle with rejoycing, that his friend lived familiar with his ſervant. Neither can have comfort where both are uncommunicable; I doe confeſſe the like countenance is not to be ſhewed to all; That which makes a wiſe man modeſt, makes a foole unmannerly: 'Tis the ſaucy ſervant that cauſes the Lord to ſhrinke his deſcending favours, of the two, pride is the more tollerable in a Maſter; The other is prepoſterouſneſſe, which Salomon ſaw the earth did groane for. Hadrian ſent his inferiour ſervant a box on the eare for walking but betweene two Senators. As I would not ſerve to be admitted to nothing but to high commands, ſo I thinke, whoſoever is rudely malepert blemiſhes the diſcretion of himſelfe, and his Lord. As there ought to be equality, becauſe Nature has made it; ſo there ought to be a difference, becauſe Fortune has ſet it; yet cannot the diſtance of their fortunes be ſo much as their neareneſſe in being men: no fate can fright away that likeneſſe.

Let not the Lord abuſe his ſervant, for 'tis poſſible he may fall below him: Let not the ſervant neglect his Maſter, for he may be caſt to a meaner condition: Let the ſervant deſerve, and the Maſter recompence; and if they would both be noble, the beſt way is for thoſe that be ſubject to forget their ſervices, and for thoſe that are Commanders to remember them▪ So, each loving other for their generous worthineſſe, the world ſhall ſtrew praiſes in both their paths. If the ſervant ſuppoſe his lot be hard, let him think that ſervice is nothing but the Free-mans calling, wherein while he is, he is bound to diſcharge himſelfe well.

That all things have a a like Progreſſion.

THere is the ſame method thorow all the world in generall, all things come to their height by degrees: there they ſtay the leaſt of time, then they decline as they roſe, only miſchiefe being more important, ruines at once what Nature hath been long a rearing. Thus the Poet ſung the fall:

All that man holds hangs but by ſlender twine, By ſudden chance the ſtrongeſt things decline.

Man may be kild in an inſtant, he cannot be made to live but by ſpace of time in Conception: we are curdled to the faſhion of a life by time and ſet ſucceſſions, when all againe is loſt, and in a moment of a minute gone. Plants, Fiſhes, Beaſts, Birds, Men, all grow up by leaſurely progreſſions: ſo Families, Provincies, States, Kingdomes, and Empires, have the ſame way of riſe by ſteps: about the height they muſt ſtay a while, becauſe there is a nearneſſe to the middle on both ſides, as they riſe, and as they fall; otherwiſe their continuance in that top is but the very point of time, the preſent now, which now againe is gone; then they at beſt deſcend, but for the moſt part tumble. And that is true in the ſmalleſt particulars, is by taking a large view, the ſame in the diſtended barke. There were firſt Men, then Families, then Tribes, then Common-wealthes, then Kingdomes, Monarchies, Empires, which we finde have been the height of all worldly dignities: So we finde they have ſlid againe to decay. There was the Aſſyrian, the Perſian, the Grecian, the Roman; and ſurely the height of the worlds glory was in the dayes of the Roman Empire, and the height of that Empire in the dayes of Auguſtus; peace then gently breathed thorow the Univerſall. Learning was then in her fulleſt flouriſh, no age either before or ſince could preſent us with ſo many tow • ing ingenuities; and then, when the whole world was moſt like unto • od, in the ſway of one Monarchie, when they ſaluted him by the title of Auguſtus; and they then like God began to rule, to be called Imperators. This I take it was the fulneſſe of time, wherein God the Saviour of the world, vouchſafed by taking humane nature upon him, to deſcend into the world; And ſurely the conſideration of ſuch things as theſe are not unworthy our thoughts, though our faith be not bred, yet is it much confirmed by obſerving ſuch like circumſtances. But then may we thinke how ſmall a time this Empire continued in this flouriſh, even the next Emperour Tiberius began to degenerate, Caligula more, Nero yet more then he, till it grew to be imbroyled, and diſmembred to an abſolute diviſion; ſince, how has the Turke ſeized on the Eaſt, and the other on the Weſt? How much is it ſub-divided by the deduction of France, Britaine, and Spaine? Some have alſo obſerved the ſight of theſe Empires, how the firſt was neareſt to the Eaſt, the next a degree further of, and ſo on in diſtant removalls, following the courſe of the Sunne: As beginning in the morning of the world, they would make a larger day by declining towards the Weſt, where the Sun goes downe after his riſing in the Eaſt. This may ſtand to the Southerne and Weſterne inhabitants of the world, but I know not how to the Northerne; for elſe how can that be ſaid to riſe any where which reſteth no where, but is perpetuall in the ſpeed of a Circular motion. For the time, it was when the world was within a very little aged foure thouſand yeares, which I doe beleeve was much about the middle age of the world: though ſeeing there are promiſes that the latter dayes ſhall be ſhortned, we cannot expect the like extent of time after it, which we finde did goe before it: Nor can we thinke but that decay which haſtens to the ruine of all leſſer things will likewiſe be more ſpeedy in this. If all things in the world decline faſter by farre then they doe aſcend, why ſhould we not beleeve the world to doe ſo too? I know not what certaine grounds they ha • e that dares aſſume to fore-tell the particular time of the worlds conſlagration, but ſurely in reaſon, and nature the end cannot be mightily diſtant: we have ſeene the infancy, the youth, the virillity, all paſt, nay, we have ſeene it well ſtept into yeares, and deſolution, the moſt infallable premonitors of a declination. Some could beleeve it with leſſe then this twenty nine yeares: Becauſe, as the Floud deſtroyed the former world one thouſand ſix hundred and fifty yeares after the firſt deſtroying Adam: ſo the latter world ſhall be conſumed with Fire, one thouſand ſix hundred fifty ſix yeares after the ſecond ſaving Adam, which is Chriſt: But I dare not fix a certainty where God hath left the world in ignorance. The exact knowledge of all things is in God only, but ſurely by Collections from Nature and Reaſon, man may helpe himſelfe in likelihood, and probabilities. Why hath man an arguing and premeditating ſoule, if not to thinke on the courſe and cauſes of things, thereby to magnifie his Creator in them? I will often muſe on ſuch like theames: for, beſides the pleaſure I ſhall meet in knowing further, I ſhall finde my ſoule by admiration of theſe wonders to love both reaſon and the Deity better. As our admi • ing of things evill, guides us to a ſecret hate; ſo whatſoever we doe applaud for goodneſſe, cannot but cauſe ſome raiſe in our affection.

Of Idleneſſe.

THe idle man is the barraneſt piece of Earth in the Orbe, there is no Creature that hath life but is buſied in ſome action for the benefit of the reſtleſſe world, even the moſt venemous and ravinous things that are, have their commodities as well as their annoyances, and they are ever ingaged in ſome action, which both profiteth the world, and continues them in their natures courſes; even the Vegitables wherein calme nature dwells, have their turnes and times in fructifying; They leafe, they flower, they ſeed, nay Creatures quite inanimate are, (ſome) the moſt laborious in their motion.

With what a cheerfull face the golden Sun chariates thorow the rounding Sky? How perpetuall is the maiden Moone in her juſt and horned mutations? The Fire, how reſtleſſe in his quick and catching flames? In the Ayre, what tranſ-actions? And how fluctious are the ſalted waves? Nor is the teeming Earth weary after ſo many thouſand yeares predictions; all which may tutor the Couch-ſtretched man, and raiſe the modeſt red in ſhewing thorow his unwaſht face, that Idleneſſe is the moſt corrupting fly that can blow in any humane minde. That ignorance is the moſt miſerable which knowes not what to doe; the idle man is like the dumbe Jack in a Virginall, while all the other dance out a wining Muſick; this like a member out of joynt, ſullens the whole body with an ill diſturbing lazineſſe.

I doe not wonder to ſee ſome of our Gentry growne (well neare) the lewdeſt men of our Land, ſince they are many of them ſo mufled in an nonimployment. 'Tis action that keeps the Soule both ſweet and ſound, while lying ſtill does rot it to an ord •• 'd noyſomneſſe.

Auguſtine imputes Eſaus loſſe of the Bleſſing partly to his ſlothfulneſſe, that had rather receive meat then ſeek it. Surely exerciſe is the fatting food of the Soule, without which ſhee growes lanke, and thinly parted. That the followers of great men are ſo much debauched, I beleeve to be want of imployment, for the Soule impatient of an abſolute receſſe for want of wholſome food of buſineſſe, preyes upon the lewder actions; 'tis true, men learne to doe ill by doing what is next it, nothing: I beleeve Salomon meant the field of the ſluggard, as well for the embleme of his minde, as the certaine index of his outward ſtate; as the one is over-growne with thornes and bryers, ſo is the other with vices and innormities.

When one would bragge the bleſſings of the Roman State, that ſince Carthage was raz'd, and Greece ſubjected, they might now be happy, as having nothing to feare. Sayes the beſt Scipio, we now are moſt in danger, for while we want buſineſſe, and have no foe to awe us, we are ready to drowne in the mud of vice and ſlothfulneſſe. How bright does the Soule grow with uſe of negotiation? With what proportioned ſweetneſſe does that Family flouriſh, where but one laborious guide ſteereth an order'd courſe.

When Cleanthes had laboured and got ſome Coyne, he ſhewes it to his companious, and tells them, that he now, if he will, can nouriſh another Cleanthes. Beleeve it, induſtry is never wholly unfruitfull, if it bring not joy with the in-comming profit, it will yet baniſh miſchiefe from thy buſied gates. There is a kinde of good Angell waiting upon diligence, that ever carries a Lawrell in her hand to crowne her.

Fortune they ſaid of old ſhould not be prayed unto, but with hands in motion. The boſom'd fiſt beckons the approach of Poverty, and leaves beſides, the noble head ungarded; but the lifted arme does frighten want, and is ever a ſhield to that noble director. How unworthy was that man of the world that never did ought, but only liv'd, and dy'd? Though Epaminondus was ſevere, he was yet exemplary; when he found a Souldier ſleeping in his Watch, and ran him thorow with his Sword, as if he would bring the two brothers, Death and Sleep to a meeting; and when he was blam'd for that as cruelty, he ſaid, He did but leave him as he found him, dead. It is none of the meaneſt happineſſe to have a minde that loves a vertuous exerciſe, 'tis duly riſing to bleſſedneſſe and contentation.

They are idle Divines that are not heavened in their lives above the unſtudious man, every one ſhall ſmell of that he is buſied in; As thoſe that ſtirre amongſt perfumes and ſpices, ſhall when they are gone, have ſtill a gratefull odour with them: So they that turne the leaves of the worthy Writer, cannot but retaine a ſmack of their long-lived Author. They converſe with vertues ſoule, which he that writ did ſpread upon his laſting paper, every good line adds ſinewes to the vertuous minde; and withall, hells that vice which would be ſpringing in it.

That I my ſelfe have liberty to doe any thing, I account it from the favouring Heavens, that I have a minde ſometimes inclining to uſe that liberty well; I thinke I may without oſtentation be thankfull for it, as a bounty of the Deity: Sure I ſhould be miſerable if I did not love this buſineſſe in this my vacancy. I am glad of that leaſure that gives me leaſure to imploy my ſelfe; if I ſhould not grow better for it, yet this benefit I am ſure would accrew me, I ſhould both keep my ſelfe from worſe, and not have time to entertaine the Devill in.

Of the triall of Faith and Friendſhip.

FAith and Friendſhip are ſeldome tryed but in extreames: To finde friends when we have no need of them, and to want them when we have, are both alike and common. In proſperity who will not profeſſe to love a man? In adverſity, how few will ſhew it, that they doe it indeed? When we are happy in the ſpring-tide of abundance, and the riſing floud of plenty, then the world will be our ſervant, then all men will flock about us with bared heads, with bended bodies, and proteſting tongues: but when theſe pleaſing waters fall to ebbing, when wealth but ſhifteth to another ſtand, then men looke upon us at a diſtance, and ſtiffen themſelves as if they were in Armour, leaſt (if they ſhould comply us) they ſhould get a wound in the cloſe. Adverſity is like Penelopes night, which undoes all that the day did weave; 'tis a miſery, that the knowledge of ſuch a bleſſedneſſe as a friend is, can hardly be without ſome ſad misfortune; for we can never thorowly try him but in the kick of malignant chance; and till we have tryed him, our knowledge can be called but by the name of hope. What a pitifull plight is poore diſtempered man in, when he can neither be happy without a friend, nor yet know him to be a true friend without his being unhappy? Our fortunes, and our ſelves, are things ſo cloſely linked, that we know not which is the cauſe of the love that we finde, when theſe two ſhall part, we may then diſcover to which of them affection will make winge; when they are covied together we know not which is in purſuit; when they riſe and breake, we ſhall then ſee which is aimed at. I confeſſe, he is happy that findes a true friend in extremity, but he is happier that findeth not extremity wherein to try his friend: Thus the tryall of friendſhip is, by finding what others will doe for us. But the tryall of faith is, by finding what we will doe for God; to truſt him for eſtate, when we have the evidence in our Iron Cheſt, is eaſie, and not thankes worthy; but to depend upon him for what we cannot ſee, as 'tis more hard for man to doe, ſo 'tis more acceptable to God if it be done; for in that act we make confeſſion of his Deity. We know not in the flowes of our contentedneſſe what we our ſelves are, or how we could neglect our ſelves, to follow God commanding us.

All men will be Peters in their braging tongues, and moſt men will be Peters in their baſe denials, but few men will be Peters in their quick repentance. When we are well, we ſweare we will not leave him in our greateſt ſickneſſe; but when our ſickneſſe comes, we forget our vowes, and ſtay! when we meet with blowes that will force us, either to let goe our hold of God, or our ſelves, then we ſee to which our ſoules will cleave the faſteſt. And of this tryall excellent is the uſe we may make, if we finde our faith upon the teſt firme, it will be unto us a perpetuall banquet. If we finde it daſtardly ſtarting aſide, knowing the weakneſſe, we may ſtrive to ſenew it with a ſtronger nerve, ſo that it ever is either the aſſurance of our happineſſe, or the way whereby we may finde it; without this confidence in a power that is able alwaies to aide us, we wander both in trouble and doubt. Infidelity is the cauſe of all our woes, the ground of all our ſins; not truſting God, we diſcontent our ſelves with feares, and ſolicitations; and to cure theſe we run into prohibited paths. Unworthy earthen worme, that can thinke God of ſo unable a nature, as he will ſuffer ſuch to want, as with a dutifull indeavour doe depend upon him

It is not uſuall with man to be ſo baſe, and canſt thou beleeve that that moſt Heroicall, and Omnipotent infiniteneſſe of his, will abridge a follower of ſuch poore toyes, as the accoutrements of this life are? Can a Deity be inhumane, or can he that graſpes the unemptied proviſions of the world in his hands, be a niggard to his Sonnes, unleſſe he ſees it for their good and benefit? Nay, couldeſt thou that readeſt this (whoſoever thou art) if thou haddeſt but a Sereptine Widdowes Cruce of Gold, couldeſt thou let a diligent and affectionate ſervant that ever waited on thee want neceſsaries? Couldeſt thou endure to ſee him ſhamed, in diſgracefull raggs? nipt to the benumming with the Icie Thumes of Winter, complaining for want of ſuſtinance, or neglected in time of ſickneſs? I appeale to thy inward and more noble acknowledgement; I know thou couldſt not. O perverſe thought of perverted man, and wilt thou yet imagine thou canſt want ſuch things as thoſe from ſo unbounden a bounty as he is? Serve him, and but beleeve, and upon my ſoule he will never faile thee for what is moſt convenient. O my God, my Refuge, my Altar, and my ſoules Anker, I begge that I may but ſerve thee, and depend upon thee; I need not begge ſupply. To the other two thou giveſt without asking, thou knoweſt for my ſelfe my ſoules wiſhes are not for a vaſt abundance: If ever I ſhould wiſh a plenty, it ſhould be for my friends, not me: I care not to abound in abounding, and I am perſwaded I ſhall never want, nor neceſsaries, nor conveniencies: Let me finde a heart dutifull, and my faith upon the tryall ſtedfaſt, and I am ſure theſe will be ground enough for ſufficient happineſs while I live here.

Of Cenſure.

TIs the eaſieſt part to cenſure, or to contradict a truth, for truth is but one, and ſeeming truths are many, and few workes are performed without errours: No man can write ſix lines but there may be ſomething one may carpe at, if he be diſpoſed to cavill▪ Opinions are as various as falſe, judgement is from every tongue a ſeverall. Men thinke by cenſuring to be accounted wiſe, but in my conceit there is nothing layes forth more of the foole; for this you may ever obſerve they that know leaſt cenſure moſt And this I beleeve to be a reaſon, why men of preciſe lives are often raſh in this extravagancy; their retiredneſſe keeps them ignorant in the courſe of buſineſſe, if they weighed the imperfections of humanity, they would breath leſſe condemnation. Ignorance gives diſparagement a louder tongue than knowledge does; wiſe men had rather know then tell, frequent diſpraiſes are at the beſt but the faults of uncharitable wit; any Clown may ſee the furrow is but crooked, but where is the man that can plough me a ſtraight one? The beſt workes are but a kinde of Meſſalany, the cleaneſt Corne will not be without ſome ſoyle, no, not after often winnowing: there is a tincture of corruption that dyes even all mortality. I would wiſh men in workes of others to examine two things before they judge, whether it be more good than ill, and whether they themſelves could at firſt have performed it better: If it be moſt good, we doe amiſſe for ſome errours to condemne the whole; who will caſt away the whole body of the Beaſt becauſe it inheld the Guts and Ordure? As man is not judged good or bad for one action, or the feweſt number, but as he is moſt in generall: So, in workes we ſhould weigh the generality, and according to that, cenſure. If it be rather good than ill, I thinke he deſerves ſome praiſe, for raiſing Nature above her ordinary flight: Nothing in this world can be framed ſo intirely perfect, but that it ſhall have in it ſome delinquencies, to argue more were in the compriſer; if it were not ſo it were not from Nature, but the immediate Deity. The next, if we had never ſeene that frame, whether or no we thinke we could have mended it. To eſpy the inconveniences of a houſe built is eaſie, but to lay the plot at firſt well, is matter of more repute, and ſpeakes the praiſe of a good contriver. The crooked lines help better to ſhew the ſtreight; Judgement is more certaine by the eye then in the fancy, ſurer in things done then in thoſe that are but in cogitation. If we finde our ſelves able to correct a Copy, and not to produce an Originall, yet dare to deprave, we ſhew more Criticiſme than ability: Seeing we ſhould • ather magnifie him that hath gone beyond us, then condemne his worth f •• a few failes.

Selfe exam • nation will make our • udgement charitable, 'tis from where there is no judgement that the heavieſt • udgement comes. If we muſt needs • enſure, 'tis good to doe it as Suitonius writes of the twelve Caeſars, tell both their vertues and their vices unpartially, and leave the upſhot to collection of the private minde: So ſhall we learne by hearing of the faults • o avoyd them, and by knowing the • ertues practiſe the like: Otherwiſe, we ſhould rather praiſe a man for 〈◊〉 little good, then brand him for 〈◊〉 more of ill; we are full of faults by nature, we are good, not without our care and induſtry.

Let us never forget, but conſider with good attention for what intent and purpoſe God created us, and thi • world for our ſakes; and in placing us therein as Lords of the ſame: for nothing made it ſelfe, ſo nothing was made for it ſelfe, nor to ſerve it ſelfe: The Heavens we ſee doe ſerve the Ayre, the Ayre ſerveth the Earth, the Earth ſerveth the Beaſts, the Beaſts ſerveth man: And then is the queſtion, Who man was made to ſerve? for ſeeing he was not made by himſelfe, it is not likely he was made to ſerve himſelfe, but his Creator, who created him and all things elſe for his uſe.

True faith is the ground of things hoped for, and the evidence of things that are not ſeene.

Prayer is an humble requeſt made unto God in Chriſt, with the lively and feeling affection of the heart, faithfully beleeving to receive what we religiouſly deſire.

Let a man never thinke to come to the Kingdom of glory except he enter in at the gates of grace.

Where truth is not inveſted, grace is not in the heart.

A gracious man is lovely to himſelfe, and ſin makes him loathſome to his ſoule, and afraid of his condition.

Let us uſe our Profeſſion as it ſhould be, not to have an upper Garment to cover a naughty heart, but to labour more and more to put off the old Man, and not to make Religion a cloke and vaile of Hypocriſie, for beſides all the ſinnes we have to make Religion ſerve our turnes, it makes our ſinnes the greater.

When a mans Religion ſhall be a cover to his ſinfull courſes, that in • reaſes his ſinne, and makes his ſinnes abhominable.

A good Conſcience is a Casket to keep Divine truths in, and when we have gotten ſoule-ſaving truths, let us keep them by a good Conſcience.

When we doe any thing let us reaſon thus: Is this becomming my Religion? And ſay thus to our ſelves; I ſhould walke worthy of Chriſt, and as it becommeth the Goſpell; for what is the ornament of a Chriſtian but the graces he hath: All the beauty we have is, to be religious.

Many there be that can talke well, and diſcourſe well, but for inward graces they never looke, nor regard: and it is this that upholds many Chriſtians: they ſee Religion is reſpected of thoſe of whom they deſire to be had in ſome eſteeme, but God ſees their Hypocriſie, and they ſhall have their reward.

What ſeaſons Warre, but the hope of Peace? The troubles and Tempeſts at Sea, but the hope of the Haven? The labour and coſt in ſowing, but the expectation of Harveſt? Shall not we much more indure a little labour here, for endleſſe happineſſe aſſured to us hereafter? this is much forgot.

But here is the pitty, men labour, ſweat, taking paines, and travell here, ſpare no coſt, and all this to goe to Hell: to heape up wrath againſt the day of wrath. The Devill has more ſervants in his barren and fruitleſſe ſervice, then God gets with all promiſes, and good things that he ſo liberally beſtowes upon them.

Obſerve the good motions of Gods Spirit in thee, further them to the moſt advantage in thee, turne them to preſent practiſe, loſe, nor delay them not, for elſe the Devill will ſteale them away from thee.

If we doe any good, the deed is Gods; if we will it, the will is Gods, and then we pleaſe God, when we will that which God wills, and not when we doe that which God wils not.

Wee ought to bee as thankfull to God, for any ſinne he keeps us from, as for any good he cauſes us to perform, for there is not any ſinne, that another hath committed, but if God had pleaſed, I might have committed it.

Light is a heavenly quallity. So is the Word of God, holy, pure, tranſforming godly men to its own likeneſs; to be heavenly his bread is from heaven, his affections, deſires, thoughts, indeavours, are heavenly, his way is upward, he is heavenly minded, while he is on earth, he is in heaven.

Light makes a thing ful of Evidence, all the world cannot perſwade a man contrary to that he ſees; ſo doth the Word of God diſcover to us, our eſtates in grace, and ſo ſeverely as all the world cannot ſhake the foundation of our Faith.

Therefore, if we deſire to be lights, let us communicate, with the chiefeſt light: As the Sarres are ever in the preſence of the Sunne, and from his light they receive theirs. Be ſure thou placeſt thy ſelfe in Gods eye continually; ſecondly, uſe the meanes, uſe the glaſſe of Gods Word, thou ſhalt not onely ſee thy eſtate therein, but by it thou ſhalt be transformed, into Gods Image; other glaſſes have no ſuch power; like this mirrour of the Goſpel: it makes us like God, becauſe it hath the Spirit of God ever to accompany with it: whence it is called the Word of light.

True patience is a fruit and effect of repentance, and humiliation for ſin.

True patience is likewiſe the fruit of Faith.

True patience is a fruit of our obedience unto God, and of a heart ſubdued, and made able to yeeld unto God in all things; Yea, it is indeed, a chiefe part of our obedience unto him.

Patience perforce, as we call it, without all reference to the will of God, and in reſpect of our obedience unto him, deſerveth not the name of true patience.

True patience will make a man ſo to depend, upon the will God, in all his afflictions, as he dares not eaſe himſelfe of his croſſe by any unlawfull meanes, by any other way then ſuch as the Lord h • th app • inted, or permitted him to u • e.

True patience, whereby we obediently ſubmit our ſelves to the will of God in our affections, will moderate our paſſions, and make us more meeke ſpirited, even towards men; yea towards ſuch men, as have had any hand, or bin any inſtrument in our afflictions.

God finiſhed the world in ſix dayes, and Chriſt finiſhed his prayer he taught us, in ſix Petitions; that ſo the works which God formed for man, and the words which Chriſt framed for man may have a correſpondency.

When we ſay, Hallowed be thy name, we meane not to make it holy; for it is holineſſe it ſelf: nor to make it more holy, for it is infinite it ſelfe: nor to keep it holy, for it is eternity it ſelfe; but to joyne with the Heavens, in declaring his glory, and with the Firmament in ſhewing his handy-worke; as then onely hallowing his Name, when we name him only holy; and therein conſiſting our work of Sanctifying him, when in him we acknowledge our workes to be ſanctified.

And indeed, if we marke this Petition well, we ſhall finde a peculiar Majeſty, an extraordinary preheminence in it above all the other: for it is not onely the Primum mobile from which all the other have their motions; but it is the Center alſo, to which all the other bend their motions: For, when we ſay, Thy kingdome come, it is but to come, that we may hallow Gods name; and when we ſay, Thy will be done, it is but this, that we hallow Gods Name: and when we pray for daily bread, it is but to ſtrengthen us, that we may hallow Gods Name▪ And when we ſay, Forgive us our treſpaſſes, it is but to cleanſe us, that we may hallow Gods Name: And when we ſay, Leade us not into temptation, it is but to remore impediments, that we may hallow Gods Name. O Lord our God, how excellent is thy name in all the world.

Wherefore, O my Soule, doe thou by this Name of God, as David (in the 1 19 Pſalm) doth by the Law of God, whereof he ſeemes jealous, and ſo loath to leave it, that the word is no ſooner out of his mouth but he ſnatcheth it in againe; and there is not ſo ſhort a ſentence in all this long Pſalm, but the Law of God is a word in it. And ſo doe thou by the Name of God, let it not onely evermore be in thy mouth, but evermore be in thy heart; that thou make it not a common name, but keep it holy: For if thou take it not in vaine to Gods diſhonour, thou ſhalt be ſure not to take it in vaine to thine owne benefit, for God will plentifully ble • ſe it, and the next newes thou ſhalt heare of, will be the comming of his kingdome.

When we ſay the Petition, Thy • ingdome come, the meaning is, that God by his Spirit would ſo rule over us, that our ſpirits may wholly be ruled by him; and that his Kingdome of Grace may ſo come unto us, that we may come at laſt to his Kingdome of glory.

In ſome the world governes, and he who is Prince of this world, the Devill, and this government is a very tyranny, the people here are not ſubjects, but ſlaves, they have fetters on all their faculties; and if they doe not feele them, it is becauſe they are paſt feeling. The ayre of this place is only Foggs, and Miſts, which both blinde theis eyes, and infect their ſpirits, and makes it their Paradice to be wallowing in puddle. He is no true Prince, but an uſurper, and therefore rules all by force, and falſhood. He takes upon him to be their Pilate, launcheth them out into the maine, and then leaves them to ſtormes and tempeſts; and their Haven is to ſplit againſt the rocks. So here is no being for thee my Soul, thou hadſt need to make haſte hence, and to ſeek thee out ſome better harbour. In ſome the fleſh governes, and they which be Ladies of the fleſh, Pride, and Luſt; and this government is a very Anarchie; every baſe fancy hath an even ſway with noble reaſon: wiſedome here is not juſtified of her Children, they ſpeake the Language of Canaan, but they are all Natives of Sodome. Their eyes are ſealed up, yet their flight is only downe hill, for they are travelling to the bottomleſſe Pit: So this, O my Soul, is no place for thee neither, no reſting for thee here▪ ſeeing there is no reſt, but all in motion, and all motion here is commotion. In ſome the Spirit governes, and he who is Father of Spirits, God himſelfe: and this government is a perfect Kingdome. He hath Majeſty for his Crowne, Mercy for his Seat, and Juſtice for his Scepter: He hath Wiſdom for his Councellor, Almightineſſe for his Guard, and Eternity for his date: He hath Heaven for his Pallace, the Earth for his Foot-ſtoole, and Hell for his Priſon: He hath Laws to which Nature aſſents, and Reaſon ſubſcribes, that doe not fetter us, but free us: for by them Nature gets the wings of Grace, and tranſcends the Earth: Reaſon gets the eyes of Faith, and aſcends up to Heaven: He hath a yoke indeed, but it is eaſie: a burthen, but it is light: his reward is with him, and his work before him. He is eſtabliſhed in his Soveraignty, not by his Subjects election of him, but by his election of his Subjects: not as raiſing himſelfe to a higher title, but an humbling himſelfe to a lower Calling: and as not receiving it from a Predeceſſor who is before all, ſo never leaving it to a Succeſſor who is after all.

This is the place where my Soul ſhall dwell, here will I pitch my Tabernacle: Only, O Lord, let me be taken into the number of thy Subjects, and indue me with the priviledges of thy Kingdome, and I will freely and faithfully ſerve thee for ever. Other Lords beſides thee have heretofore ruled us, but now we will remember thee only, and only thy name.

When we make this Petition to God that his Kingdom may come, we ſhould do well to remember a Petition which God makes to us; My Sonne, give me thine heart: for unleſſe we give God our hearts, whither do we think this Kingdom ſhould come? For if it come to the ears, as often times it makes offer at the hearing of Gods Word, it findes that a thorow-faire which lyes open on every ſide, and no fit place to make a reſidence in, and therefore commonly goes away as it came, and makes no ſtay there. And if it come to the eyes, as ſometimes it doth at the ſight of Gods workes, it findes them not able to ſtay long open, but muſt have their windows ſhut in, and ſo are apt to keep it out: or if they ſtand open, they are apt to let in vanity, which this Kingdom likes not, and therefore cannot abide to abide there neither, but vaniſh away. And indeed, theſe are the out places, this Kingdom loves to be within us, as Chriſt ſaith: The kingdome of God is within you. And we have no place within us fit to make a ſeat of a Kingdom but only our heart, and this indeed hath no back doore to let it out, as the eare hath: nor no Percullis to keep it out, as the eye hath: but it hath a large entrance, and a boundleſs circuit, and therefore moſt fit to give this Kingdom entertainment. And yet as fit as it is, God will not have it unleſs we give it him: and he will not have it ſo neither, unleſs we give it him all: for it is againſt his nature to have a Partner, and he cannot abide to heare of Moyties, either he muſt have all, or he hath nothing at all: To be a peice for God, and a peice for the world, is to be all for the world. To conclude, God at all, is to exclude him from all: Wherefore O my Soul, mangle not thy heart in giving it to God, but give it him all, and think thy ſelfe happy that he will take it all: For the more he poſſeſſeth it, the freer he maketh it: the more he dwelleth in it, the fairer he builds it: the more he reigneth in it, the more richer he adornes it. O my Lord God, that thou wouldeſt come and dwell in my heart as the owner of it, and reigne in my heart as the King of it: I ſhould not then envie the Pallaces of Princes, nor the Kingdoms of the Earih: ſeeing I ſhould have within my ſelfe a Pallace and a Kingdome, not only to equall but far to exceed them.

O what happineſſe will this Kingdom bring, and wherein doth happineſſe conſiſt? If in dainty fare? we ſhall all eat and drink with Chriſt at his Fathers Table. If in fine cloathes? we ſhall all be cloathed, in long white Robes. If in curious muſick? we ſhall heare the quire of Angels continually ſinging. If in knowledge? we ſhall know, as we are know. If in dominion? we ſhall judge the Angels. If in joy? our joy ſhall be full, and none ſhall be able to take it from us. If in glorious ſights? we ſhall ſee the bleſſed face of God, which is the glory of all ſights, and the ſight of all glory.

O happy Kingdom, ô happy comming, ô happy we to whom it ſhall come; that we can never be attentive enough in praying, never earneſt enough in longing that this Kingdome may come.

The next is, Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. It is a fearefull thing to make this Petition to God; if we doe not withall make it a rule to our ſelves, that all the actions of our life may be ſquared by it.

And therefore, O my ſoule, if matter of profit be offered to thee, lay it to this Rule; whether it be to the will of God, or no: for if it be not, what great advantage ſoever it make ſhew of, account it but loſſe. If matter of honour be offered unto thee, lay it to this Rule, whether it be according to the will of God, or no: for if it be not, what great advancement ſoever it pretend, account it but ſhame. If matter of pleaſure be offered unto thee, lay it to this Rule, whether it be according to the will of God, or no: for if it be not, what pleaſing ſuggeſtion ſoever it hath, account it but miſery. It was conceived by Ahab, that it would be for his profit, to buy Naboths Vineyard; but when he would not lay it to this Rule, he paid for his purchaſe, with his bloud to doggs. It was pretended to Pharaoh, that it would be for his honour, to purſue the Iſraelites: but when he would not lay it to this Rule, he periſhed himſelfe, and all his Hoſt in the red Sea. It was ſuggeſted to Salomon, that it would be for his pleaſure, to entertaine the love of ſtrange women: but when he would not lay it to this Rule; God laid it to his charge, both raiſing up adverſaries againſt himſelfe, and renting the Kingdom from his Sonne to his ſervant. We muſt therefore endeavour to make it a Rule to our ſelves firſt, and then we may ſafely make it a Petition to God: otherwiſe, if we ſay, Thy will be done, and intend not to doe it: we ſhall but turne the Petition from active to paſſive: Gods will into his anger, and draw it downe to be done upon us in earth, as it was done upon the Angels in heaven.

Many, can ſay this Petition devoutly enough, ſo long as they underſtand it not; but when they are tould how Chriſt ſaid it, Not my will, but thy will; and thereby come to know, that for praying to doe Gods will, is to pray againſt doing their owne wills, againſt their unlawfull luſts, againſt their covetous deſires, againſt their ambitious deſignes, againſt their malicious practiſes, and ſuch like. Then it ſtricks cold to their hearts. Their tongues cleave to the roofe of their mouthes: and they could wiſh the Petition might never be made.

But he that underſtands it, and yet ſtands to it; he that ſpeaks it, more from his heart, then with his tongue; he that is reſolved to ſay it, becauſe he ſaith as he is reſolved, this man makes it a prayer for himſelfe, and an Hallelujah to God, and ſhall reape the fruit of both in the due time: to the other it proves but as the Sacrifice of fooles: and if it make a noiſe, it is but as the tinkling of a Cymball. Muſick at which God ſtops his eares, onely the Devill makes himſelf meery.

O Lord God, let it be the pleaſure of thy will, that I may take pleaſure in doing thy will: for unleſſe it be thy pleaſure, it can never be my will: for though we may be good followers, yet we are no good beginners, & therfore, though it pleaſe thee to ſay, turne unto me, and I will turne unto you: as though we ſhould begin firſt, yet we are faine to returne it back, and ſay: Turne us O Lord, and, we ſhall be turned. For we, God knowes, are too unweldy to turne us of our ſelves, it muſt be done by ſtrong hand, and none hath ſtrength enough to doe it: but thou O God, who art the God of ſtrength.

And if we would ſtrive as much with the Angels for holineſſe, as we doe with men for place, and dignity, we ſhould finde God as ready to take our parts, as he was to take our Nature, and by ſuch a help, of ſuch a helper, we ſhould be able to make good our ſaying: Thy will be done in earth as it is in Heaven.

O Lord God, If I cannot be like thee in holineſſe: yet let me be like the Angels in obedience, and if I cannot attaine to neither, let me at leaſt, aſpire to both, and what I want in power and performance, make me to ſupply with Vowes and Payers.

And here now ſeemes a fit place to ſit down and wonder, at the unſpeakable love, and bounty of God, expreſſed towards us, in theſe three Petitions; for by the firſt, we are aſſured of eternity: by the ſecond of a Kingdom: by the third, to be like the Angels: or if we like it better to ſay; by the firſt, we are informed what we ſhall be as Angels: by the ſecond, what we ſhall have, a Kingdom; by the third, what we ſhall do; the will of God.

Theſe are bleſſings worthy to come from a heavenly Father; theſe are rewards, which worthily become a bountifull Maſter.

And now, let the ſwine (fleſh and blood) go murmure againſt God, that he is a hard Father, and a bad Maſter: and that there is no profit in ſerving him, becauſe he gives them not the mire of the world to wallow in: as though he had no other way to expreſſe his favours, but by clods of earth.

But do thou, ô my ſoule, meditate upon theſe Petitions, and in them, upon theſe bleſſings, and in theſe, upon the infinit love, and bounty of God: and think how happy thou art to have ſuch a Father: how much thou art bound to love ſuch a Maſter: and think not much to love him with thy whole heart: ſeeing he hath bleſſings to beſtow upon thee, which cannot enter into thy heart.

Think not much to ſubmit thy ſelf wholly to his will, ſeeing, his will is, to give thee beauty for aſhes: the oyle of gladneſſe for mourning, that we ſhall ever find it, a moſt happy thing for us to ſay, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. But why do we ſay, thy will be done in earth, which is done in earth already: and that by creatures, which one would think we are never able to do it: He hath ſet bounds to the Sea, which it muſt not paſſe, and the Sea as raging as it is, and provoked by all the Rivers of the earth, that come running into it, as it were for the nonce, to make it paſſe its bounds, yet keepes it ſelf preciſely within the limits: He hath appointed the earth to ſtand ſtill, and not for to move, and the earth, though but hanging in the Ayre, and nothing at all to hang upon: yet offers not ſo much, as once to ſtir: He hath charged the Trees to bring forth fruit, and the Trees, though almoſt even killed with could of winter, and threatned with the tempeſts of the ſpring, yet takes heart to come forth, and ſeeme to rejoyce, they can do as they are bidden.

The very beaſts, though never ſo wild and ſavage, yet obſerve the properties of their kind, and none of them incroach upon the qualities of another.

And why all this? but only to do the will of God, and that which may ſeeme more ſtrange: The flowers come out of the durty earth, and yet how neate and cleane, out of the unſavory earth, and yet how freſh and fragrant? out of the ſower earth, and yet how mellifluous and ſweete? out of the duskiſh earth, and yet how orient, and virmillion? out of the unſhapen earth, and yet in what dainty ſhapes? in what curious formes? in what inamilings? and diapers of beauty? as if the earth would ſhow, that for all her being curſed, ſhe had ſomthing yet of Paradice left. And why all this? but only to do the will of God. And why then ſhould there be complaining, as though the will of God, were not done in earth.

O wretched man, it is only thy ſelf, that is out of tune, in this harmony. Man that ſhould be beſt, is of all the worſt; that ſhould be cleaneſt, is of all the fowleſt; that ſhould be moſt beautifull, is of all the moſt deformed; moſt full of graces, yet moſt void of grace; of moſt underſtanding to direct his will, yet of leaſt will to follow the direction of underſtanding. Man indued with celeſtiall qualities, yet leaves them all, to incroach upon the qualities of every beaſt: upon the obcaenity of ſwine in drunkenneſſe, upon the greedineſſe of Cormorants, in covetouſneſs, upon the craftineſſe of Foxes in fraud: upon the cruelty of Tygers, in malice, as if he would ſtrive to exceede his firſt parents in tranſgreſſing, and try whether God had any greater puniſhment left, then caſting out of Paradice. That if Chriſt would have ſerved us in our kind, and as we deſerve, he needed not to have gone for paterns to heaven, he might have found paterns, good enough for us amongſt the meaneſt Creatures of the earth.

And as he tould the Phariſees, that the Queen of the South, ſhould riſe up in judgement againſt them, ſo he might have told us, the flowers, the trees, the beaſts, ſhall all riſe up in judgement againſt man. That we have more need to ſay. O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a Fountain of teares, that I might weep day and night.

Then after trees and beaſts have done Gods will, to come after them all, but with only ſaying. Thy will be done in earth as it is in Heaven.

O God ſo frame our wills, that they may be fit links, to be faſtned to this Chaine of thy will, that as one link drawn on, drawes on another: ſo our ſpirits being guided by thy grace, may be guides to our fleſh, and that our fleſh, as living by thee, may live to thee, knowing, that though the way of thy will may be troubleſome, in the going, yet the journey ſhall be comfortable in the ending; and though it be the ſecret of thy will, that in doing it, we ſhall meete with many croſſes, yet it is the purpoſe of thy will, that by doing it, we ſhall purchaſe many joyes, and therefore can have no cauſe to make us a fraid to ſay. Thy will be done in earth as it is in Heaven.

And now having thought theſe Petitions to be for ſuch moſt proper, let us conforme our ſelves according to them. When we ſay, Hallowed be thy Name, let us lift up the voyces of our hearts, as if we were now joyning with the Angels, in ſinging their Hallelujah. When we ſay, Thy Kingdome come, let us raiſe our thoughts, as now offering to ſet our hands to the Petition of the Saints in heaven: When we ſay, Thy will be done, let us fix our minds wholly as in the ſolemnity of dedicating of our ſelves to God, with all the faithfull upon earth. When we ſay, Give us this day our daily bread, let us humble our ſelves, as being in ſtate of other Creatures, and are glad to joyne with them in their common ſuit. When we ſay, Forgive us our treſpaſſes, let us think our ſelves enrolled in the company of Penitents, and as the greateſt ſinners choſen ſpeakeſmen to preſent their ſupplication. And when we ſay, Leade us not into temptation, let us acknowledge our ſelves in the number and weakneſſe of little Children, and are glad to joyne with them in crying for help; that the Angell of Infants, which alwaies behold the face of God, may be imployed by him to work our deliverance.

But what ſhould be the cauſe that in the three latter Petitions we ſeem to be altogether for our ſelves, as appeares by our ſaying, Give us, Forgive us, Deliver us; but in the three former there is no mention of us at all, as though we were no parties to them at all? Is it not that we are, or ought to be more jealous of Gods honour, than carefull of our owne benefits? And therefore when we ſay, Hallowed be thy name, we dare not ſay, of us, leaſt we ſhould make God a Muſick of too few voyces. And when we ſay, Thy Kingdome come, we dare not ſay, to us, leaſt we ſhould aſſigne his Kingdom too ſmall a Territory. And when we ſay, Thy will be done, we dare not ſay, by us, leaſt we ſhould ſtint God in the number of his ſervants. But we ſay, Hallowed be thy name, and ſtop there, that ſo no mouth may be ſtopped from hallowing it. We ſay, Thy Kingdome come, but name not whither, that ſo it may be intended to come every whither. We ſay, Thy will be done in earth, but tell not by whom in earth, that ſo it may be done by all in earth.

Many would deſire to know, and prize it at a great rate, how the • might get the knowledge to be aſſured when their ſins are forgiven, and yet it is a knowledge eaſily to be had, and every man may tell himſelfe; for if thou findeſt in thy heart a loathing of thy former ſins, and a reſolution to continue in amendment of life, and ſpecially a fixed charity to forgive others; thou mayeſt be aſſured thou art in the favour of God, and all thy ſins paſt are forgiven thee; but if thou continueſt to take delight in thy former ſins, and art unreſolved in reforming thy courſes; and eſpecially, if thou findeſt in thy ſelf a deſire of revenge, and art implacable towards others, thou mayeſt then be aſſured thou art ſtill in the ſtate of Gods diſpleaſure, thy ſins are not yet forgiven; for, theſe things are not only the ſignes, but the certaine effects of Gods forgiving of us, when we confeſſe, and be grieved for our owne treſpaſſes to him, and are compaſſionate and relenting to the treſpaſſes of others to us.

There is no deed ſo acceptable to God, as to take all thankfully which he laies upon us; for not to murmure, or not to caſt our eyes upon vanity, are in themſelves any great matters; but when a man murmures not in adverſity, which gives ſo many cauſes of impatience; or when a man caſts not his eyes upon vanity in proſperity, which miniſters ſo many occaſions of alurements, this is a man after Gods owne heart; and this is one to whom the Devill may ſay, as he ſaid to Chriſt, Art thou come to torment us before the time? but the difficulty of doing this, and the danger of not doing this, gives us all juſt cauſe to ſay, Leade us not into temptation.

O my Soul, if thou canſt not be ſtrong enough to reſiſt ſinne, be humble to confeſſe it with contrition; diſſolve into teares for that which is paſt, reſolve upon amendment in that which is to come; and if thou canſt do this, thou ſhalt finde it the true balme of Gilead, and though thy ſins were as red as ſcarlet, they ſhall be made as white as ſnow.

And more, to ſpeak of hallowing Gods name: it may not be unfit to conſider the three firſt Petitions, as they are only hallowings, or Hallelujas: for obſerving the difference of the ſongs, we ſhall perceive the difference of the ſingers.

The firſt when we ſay, Hallowed be thy name, is the Hallelujah of Angels, and we may truly ſay, is the ſong of ſongs: not only, becauſe it is ſung without ceaſſing: but becauſe it ſhall be ſung without ending, and is both the cauſe and the effect, both the ſigne and the ſubſtance of our eternal happineſs.

The ſecond (when we ſay) Thy Kingdom come, is the Hallelujah, of the • aints in Heaven, and is an aſſpiring to the firſt: but an aſſpiring in a very near degree, near in diſtance, though remote in exiſtence: for they are in aſſurance of attaining, and do but tarry the time, but the time will not be, till time will not be.

The third, (when we ſay, Thy will be done) is the Hallelujah of the Saints on earth: and is an aſſpiring to the ſecond; but an aſſpiring in a remote degree: for while they are in the world, they are ſubject to all the rubs of the world: while they live in the fleſh, to all infirmities of the fleſh: yet they have a confidence, though no aſſurance, or an aſſurance, though but in confidence: and therefore are remiſſe, but not dejected, bould, but not preſumptuous, not out of heart, not out of feare.

And may it not here be obſerved, that as we begin in ſaying, Hallowed be thy name, ſo we end in acting the hallowing it: and our firſt and laſt words, are all for his glory, who is the firſt and the laſt: And theſe three Attributes, ſeeme to anſwer to our three firſt Petitions: Hallowed be thy name, for thine is the glory: Thy Kingdom come, for thine is the Kingdom: Thy will be done, for thine is the power.

And we ſeeme to ſing, not only in the firſt, an uniſone with the Angels: but in all the three, the ſame ditty with the Saints in Heaven, for their Hallelujah is, Thou art worthy, ô Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power: and ours here, Thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory: That having ſung the ſong of Saints and Angels here on the earth: we may be admitted, into the quiere of Saints and Angels in Heaven, and ſing eternally, thou art worthy, ô Lord, to receive glory, and honour, and power: for thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever, Amen.

And now, ô my ſoule, conſider how perfect a prayer this is: where are the Petitions of men and Angels, the Petitions of the Church millitant, and triumphant, the Petitions of innocent Inphants, penitent ſinners, and faithfull beleevers: And then hearken what muſick it makes in Gods eares, how pleaſing, where the ſongs are all of Chriſts own ſetting, how mellodious; where they are all ſuch ſweet ſingers: how lowd, where there are ſo many voyces: eſpecially, when this quire of ſingers, which hitherto have ſung their parts apa • t, ſhall all joyne their voyces together in that ſacred Antheme. For thine is the Kingdome, the power, and the glory. And ſo end all, in that which • s the end of all: and is it ſelfe with • ut end; the glo • y of God.

The children of God, begotten a new by the Holy Ghoſt, can never fall from being like him that begat them: and therefore doe they much diſhonour God, who in words doe profeſſe they are his Sonnes, and yet in their actions, they reſemble the Image of Sathan.

It were a great blemiſh to a godly man, to be wrongfully ſuſpected to be the father of a wicked Son; much more is God diſhonoured, by ſuch as would ſeeme to be, but are not of his ſeed. For they that are of God, indeed, cannot but in ſome meaſure reſemble him, in being righteous, as he is righteous: that is, by caſting off the old man, which is corrupt, thorow deceivable luſts, and to put on the new man, which after God is created in righteouſneſſe and true holineſſe.

This caſting off, and putting on, doth teach us, that there is in us ſomething that befits us not to retaine, if we will be the true Sonnes of God: not by reputation amongſt men, but by imputation in Chriſt. What is to he caſt off, and what is to be put on, is plainely expreſſed in the Apoſtles words, namely, to caſt off all deceivable luſts, which includeth all things forbidden, and to put on righteouſneſſe, which implyeth a ſpirituall indowment of all heavenly graces; among which, none is of that ſingular force, vertue, and effect, as is, zealous, and hearty prayer, in faith unfained; which none can effectually make, but ſuch as have put on this new man. For the old man knoweth not how to pray, being clothed with corruption: and blinded with the miſt of ignorance.

The new man onely ſhaped in holineſſe, knoweth to whom, when, in whom, for what, and how to pray: all which circumſtances, are duely to be conſidered in Prayer: and yet none of theſe, doth the naturall man; that is, the olde man truely apprehend: and conſequently, the lip-labour that he pretendeth, to beſtow in prayer, is not onely, not profitable, but ſinfull.

To pray unto God with the lips, for any corporall benefit, and yet to have t • e eye of the heart, fixed in confidence upon naturall meanes, is a kind of ſpirituall Adultery.

For, what man is he, that having a wife, outwardly affable, uſing words of love unto him, and yet her heart ſet upon another man, will not think her a faithleſſe and unchaſte wife? And is God leſſe jealous thinke wee? who craveth our hearts, when we ſhall worſhip him in words, and outward ſhew of works? when our Conſciences cannot but tell us, that we aske that of God, which we inwardly believe more probably, and poſſible to be obtained, by meanes without him.

Is not this a faſilfying of our faith, and diſſembling of our prayers? Is not this a manifeſt breach of the Law, that ſayes, we ſhall have no other Gods, but JEHOVAH. As alſo, not to take his Name in vaine, as they doe, which call upon him with their lips, their hearts farre from him.

God requireth not our prayers, becauſe he hath neede of them; as a ſervice beneficiall, or profitable unto him; but becauſe we have need of his graces, and bleſſings, and that he loveth us, in his beloved Sonne, he willeth us to pray unto him for every ſpirituall and corporall bleſſing: And although it be true, that he knowes whereof we have need: yet in common reaſon, he that wanteth, and diſdaines to ask, he is not worthy to receive that whereof he hath need.

And heavily it will befall them, who having received ſo many bleſſings at Gods hands, are no whit the more moved to love him: And ſo many threats for their unbeliefe, and ingratitude, and yet not moved to feare him.

Will they not be drawne, then from their deceiveable vanities? Will they rather then for leſſe then an Aple, or a meſſe of Pottage, diſclaime their Birth-rights and loſe that Kingdom, and Crowne, ſo dearely purchaſed for the faithfull.

Nay, were loſſe of it all, it were not ſo horrible: If a man miſſing the good promiſed, could avoid the danger threatned, it would ſomething mittigate the diſpairing Conſcience, and eaſe the troubled minde. If after death, there were neither life nor death: If a man might have no being, nor feele, nor endure torment; though he had no comfort, it were a kinde of eaſe to the carnall minde, that knoweth no other heaven, then the profits and pleaſures of this life. Nor feareth other Hell, then the miſery, penury, and afflictions of the ſame.

But the caſe is otherwiſe: They that miſſe the Kingdome of heaven, by not beleeving the promiſes of God, by not praying unto God, for direction in the courſe of their lives, may aſſure themſelves, though they ſeeme not yet to beleeve it: that there remaines for them, and attends them, the god of darkneſſe, and the Angel of Horrour, and of Torment.

But poſſeſſe thou me, my ſweet Soveraigne, and raigne in my body, by obedience to thy Lawes: and in my ſoule, by confidence in thy promiſes.

Frame my tongue to praiſe thee, my knees to reverence thee, my ſtrength to ſerve thee, my deſires to covet thee, and my heart to love and imbrace thee. And as thou haſt formed me according to thine Image, ſo frame me according to thy will. And as thou haſt made me a veſſell by the ſtampe of thy creation, to ſerve thee here on Earth, ſo make me a veſſell of Honour by the priviledge of thy grace to ſerve thee in thy everlaſting Kingdom, ſweet Father I beſeech thee.

Comfortable Sentences for ſuch that are afflicted.

COme and let us returne unto the Lord, for he hath torne, and he w • ll heale us, he hath ſmitten, and he will bind us up, Hoſ. 6.1.

I know, O Lord, that thy judgements are right, and that thou in faithfulneſſe haſt afflicted me, Pſal. 119.75.

We have had the fathers of our fleſh, which corrected us, and we gave them reverence; ſpall we not much rather be in ſubjection to the Father of our Spirits, and live; for they verily for a few dayes did chaſtice us after their owne pleaſure, but he for our profit, that we might be partak • rs of h •• holineſſe, Heb. 29.10.

There hath no temptation taken you but ſuch as is common to man, but God is faithfull, who will not ſuffer you to be tempted above that you are able, but will with the temptation make way to eſcape, that yee may be able to beare it, 1 Cor. 2.3.

For his anger endureth but a moment, in his favour is life; weeping may endure for a night, but joy commeth in the morning, Pſal. 30.5.

He will not alwaies chide, neither will h • keep his anger for ever, Pſal. 103.9.

For the rod of the wicked ſhall not reſt upon the lot of the righteous, leaſt the righteous put forth their hands to iniquity, Pſal. 125.3.

For yet a very little while, and mine anger ſhall ceaſe in their deſtruction, Eſa 10.25.

Come my people, enter into thy Chambers, and ſhut the doores about thee, hide thy ſelfe as it were for a little moment, untill the indignation be over-paſt, Eſay. 26.20.

For a ſmall moment have I forſaken thee, but in great mercies will I gather thee; in a little wrath I hid my ſelfe from thee for a moment, but with everlaſting kindneſſe will I have mercy on thee, ſaith the Lord thy redeemer, Eſay 54.7, 8.

For I will not contend for ever, neither will I be alwaies wroth, for the Spirit ſhould faile before me, and the Soules which I have made, Eſay 57.16.

For I am mercifull, ſaith the Lord thy redeemer, and I will not keepe anger for ever, Jer. 3.12.

So will I make my fury towards the • to reſt, and my jealouſie ſhall depart fro • thee, and I will be quiet, and will be no • more angry, Ezek. 16.42.

Who is a God like unto thee, that pardons the iniquity, and paſſeth by the tranſgreſſions of the remnant of his heritage; he retaineth not his anger for ever, becauſe he delighteth in mercy, Micha • 7.18.

For our light afflictions which is but for a moment, worketh for us a farre more exceeding and eternall waight of glory, 2 Cor. 4.17.

For like as a Father pittyeth his Children, ſo the Lord pittyeth them that feare him: for he knoweth our frame, he remembreth we are but duſt. Pſalme 103.13.14.

Sing O heavens, and be joyfull O earth, and breake forth into ſinging O mountaines, for God hath comforted his people, and will have mercy on his afflicted: but Sion, ſaid the Lord, hath forgotten me: Can a woman forget her ſucking Childe that ſhe ſhould not have compaſſion on him? yea, they may forget: yet will not I forget thee, Eſa 49.13, 14, 15.

For the needy ſhall not alwaies be for • otten, the expectation of the poore ſhall • ot periſh for ever, Pſal. 9.18.

In all their afflictions he was afflicted, • nd the Angell of his preſence, ſaved them 〈◊〉 his love, and in his pitty he redeemed • hem, and he bare them, and he carried • hem all the dayes of old, Eſay 63.9.

Behold, happy is the man whom God • orrecteth, therefore deſpiſe not the cha • tening of the Almighty, Job 5.17.

Bleſſed is the man whom thou chaſte • eſt, O Lord, and teacheſt him out of thy • aw, that thou mayeſt give him reſt for • he dayes of adverſity, untill the pit be • igged for the wicked: whom he loveth • e correcteth, even as the Father the Son 〈◊〉 whom he delighteth; therefore deſpiſe • ot the chaſtening of the Lord, neither • e weary of his correction; for it is good • or me that I have been afflicted, that I • ight learne thy Statutes, Pſalme 94. • 2, 13.

Who fed thee in the Wilderneſſe with Manna, which thy Fathers knew not, that • e might humble thee, and that he might • rove thee, to doe thee good at thy latter • nd, Deut. 8.16.

For we know, that all things worke together for good to them that love Go • to them that are called according to 〈◊〉 purpoſe, Rom. 8.28.

My brethren, count it all joy when y • fall into divers temptations, knowing th • that the trying of your faith worketh p • tienee, James 2.3.

Though he fall, he ſhall not be utter caſt downe, for the Lord upholdeth h •• with his hand, Pſal, 37.24.

God will lighten our darkneſſe, he w • keep the feet of his Saints, he will not fo • ſake them, nor forget their complaint, th • they ſhall not be confounded, in time 〈◊〉 trouble he will hide them, Pſal. 18.28.

His Angels ſhall pitch about them, 〈◊〉 will heale them, and take all ſickneſ • from them, they ſhall not feare their enemies, but will make their enemies afra •• of them, be avenged of their enemies: 〈◊〉 will repent him of the evill pronounced • gainſt them. They cry, and the Lo •• heareth them, and delivereth them 〈◊〉 of all their troubles. Many are the tro • bles of the righteous, but the Lord del • vereth them out of all, Pſal. 34.7.

But the ſalvation of the righteous is the Lord, he is their ſtrength in the ti •• of trouble, and the Lord ſhall help the • and deliver them, he will deliver them • om the wicked, and ſave them, becauſe • ey truſt in him, Pſal. 37.39, 40.

Comfortable Sentences concerning earthly Bleſſings.

FIrſt, ſeek the Kingdome of God, and his righteouſneſſe, and all good things •• all be added unto you, Mat. 6.33.

O taſte, and ſee, that the Lord is good, • leſſed is the man that truſteth in him. O • eare the Lord yee his Saints, for there is • o want to them that feare him. The Li • ns doe lack and ſuffer hunger, but they • hat ſeeke the Lord lack nothing, Pſal. 4.8, 9, 10.

The Lord is a ſunne and ſhield, and no • ood thing will he with-hold from them • hat walke uprightly, Pſal. 84.12.

Trust in the Lord, and doe good, ſo • halt thou dwell in the Land, and verily • hou ſhalt be fed: delight thy ſelfe in • he Lord, and he will give thee thy de • ires of thy heart: Commit thy way unto • he Lord, truſt alſo in him, and he ſhall • ring it to paſſe: For the meeke ſhall inherit the earth, and ſhall delight them ſelves in their abundance of peace: a little that a righteous man hath, is bette • then the riches of many wicked, Pſal. 37 3, 4, 5.

O how great is thy goodneſſe, whic • thou haſt laid up for them that feare thee which thou haſt wrought for them tha • truſt in thee before the ſonnes of men, Pſal. 31.21.

The Lord is good, and his tender mercies is over all his workes, for ſeeing godlineſſe hath the promiſes of this life, as wel • as of the life to come. He will dwell with his and not forſake them, that he will love and bleſſe his people, that he will be their God, will rejoyce over them to doe them good, will compaſſe them with favour as with a ſhield: will keepe his Covenant with them, that he will ſet peace in their borders, and proſper them in all they goe about, Pſal. 145.9.

My Sonne, forget not my Law, but let thine heart keepe my Commandements; for length of days, and long life, and peace ſhall they adde to thee: length of dayes is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every one that retaineth her, Prov. 3 • , 2, 16.

If thou wilt diligently hearken to the • oyce of the Lord thy God, and wilt doe • hat which is right in his ſight, and wilt give eare to his Commandements, and keepe all his Statutes, I will put none of theſe diſeaſes upon thee which I put upon the Aegyptians, for I am the Lord that healeth thee, Exod. 15.26.

Honour the Lord with thy ſubſtance, and with the firſt fruits of thine increaſe: ſo ſhall thy Barnes be filled with plenty, and thy Preſſes ſhall burſt with new wine, Prov, 3.9.16.

He that ſoweth bountifully ſhall reape bountifully and God is able to make all grace to abound towards you, that yee alwaies having all ſufficiency in all things, may attaine to every good worke: 2 Cor. 9.6.8.

So ſhalt thou finde favour, and good underſtanding in the ſight of God and man, Prov. 3.4.

And I will give peace in the Land, and • ee ſhall lye downe, and none ſhall make • ou afraid, Levit, 26.6.

Behold, my ſervants ſhall rejoyce, but yee ſhall be aſhamed: Behold, my ſervants ſhall ſing for joy of heart, but yee ſhall cry for ſorrow of heart, Eſay 65.13, 14.

Pray for the peace of Jeruſalem, they ſhall proſper that love thee: Peace b • within thy walls, and proſperity withi • thy pallaces, Pſal. 122.6, 7.

Then ſhalt thou walke in thy way ſafely, and thy foote ſhall not ſtumble, Prov. 3.23.

The name of the Lord is a ſtrong tower, and the righteous run unto it, and is ſafe, Prov. 18.10.

But who ſo hearkneth unto me ſhall dwell ſafely, and be quiet from the feare of evill, Prov. 1.33.

He ſhall deliver thee in ſix troubles, yea in ſeven there ſhall no evill touch thee: in famine he ſhall redeeme thee from death, and in warre from the power of the ſword: thou ſhalt be hid from the ſcourge of the tongue, neither ſhalt thou be afraid of destruction when it commeth, Job 5.19, 20, 21.

He will honour thoſe that honour him, and bring forth their righteouſneſſe as the light, and their judgement as the noone day, Prov.

For I will have reſpect unto you, and make you faithfull, and multiply, and eſtabliſh my Covenant with you. Levit. 26.9.

And he will love thee, and bleſſe thee, and multiply thee, he will alſo bleſſe the fruit of thy wombe, and the fruit of thy Land, thy corne, and thy wine, and thine Oyle, the increaſe of thy kine, and the flocks of thy ſheepe. Deut. 7.13.

Thou ſhalt know that thy ſeede ſhall be great, and thy off-ſpring as the graſſe of the earth. Job 5.25.

The Lord ſhall increaſe you more, and more, you and your Children. Pſal. 115.14.

Thy wife ſhall be as the fruitfull vine by the ſides of thy houſe; thy Children like Olive plants round about thy Table; yea thou ſhalt ſee thy Childrens Children, and peace upon Izrael. Pſal. 128.3.6.

I have been young, and now am old, yet have not ſeen the righteous forſaken, nor his ſeed, begging bread; he is ever mercifull, and lendeth, and his ſeed is bleſſed. Pſai. 37.25.26.

The juſt man walketh in his integrity, his Children are bleſſed after him. Prov. 20.7.

I will power my ſpirit upon thy ſeed, and my bleſſi • g upon thy off-ſpring, and they ſhall ſpring up among t • e graſſe as willowes by the water courſes. Eſay. 44.3.4.

A • d their ſeed ſhall be known among the Gentiles, and their off-ſpring among the people; All that ſee them ſhall acknowledge them, that they are the ſeed which the Lord hath b • eſſed. Eſay. 61.6.

I will give them one heart, and o • e way, that they may heare me for ever, for the good of them and of their Child • en. Jer. 32. • 9.

The Children of thy Servants ſhall continue, and their ſe • d ſhall be • ſtabliſhed before thee. • ſal. 102.28.

Though h • nd joyn in hand, the wicked ſhall not b • un •••• ſhed, but the ſeed of the righteous ſhall be delivered. Prov. 11.21.

In the feare of the Lord is ſtrong confidence, and his Children ſhall have a place of refuge, Prov. 14.26.

All thy Children ſhall be taught of the Lord, and great ſhall be the peace of thy Children. Eſay 54.13.

For God will ſhew mercy to them that love him, and keepe his Command ments.

Meditations and Reſolutions.

PRide is the greateſt enemy to reaſon, and diſcretion the greateſt oppoſite to pride; for whiles wiſdom makes Art the Axe of nature, pride makes nature the Axe of Art: The wiſe man ſhapes his apparell to his body; the proud man ſhapes his body by his apparell: Tis no marvel then, if he know not himſelf, when he is not to day like him he was yeſterday.

And leſſe marvell, if good men will not know him, when he forgets himſelf, and all goodneſſe.

I ſhould feare whilſt I thus change my ſhape, leaſt my maker ſhould change his opinion, and finding me not like him he made me, reject me as none of his making.

I would any day put off the cauſe of my apparell, but not every day put on new faſhioned apparell; I ſee great reaſon to be aſhamed of my pride, but no reaſon to be proud of my ſhame.

Hipocricy deſires to ſeeme good, rather then be ſo: honeſty deſires to be good, rather then ſeeing ſo: The worldlings purchaſed reputation by the ſale of deſert: wiſe men, by deſert with the hazard of reputation.

I would do much to heare well, more to deſerve well, and rather loſe opinion then merit.

It ſhall more joy me that I know my ſelf what I am, then it ſhall grieve me to heare what others report me. I had rather deſerve well without praiſe, then do ill with comendation.

There is nothing more certain then death, nothing more uncertain then the time of dying.

I will therefore be prepared for that at all times, which may come at any time, muſt come at one time or another: I ſhall not haſten my death by being ſtill ready, but ſweeten it: It makes me not dye the ſooner, but better. Had I not more confidence in the truth of my Saviour, then in the traditions of men: poverty might ſtagger my faith, and bring my thoughts into a perplexed purgatory, wherein are the poor bleſſed, if pardon ſhall be only by expence? Or how is it hard for a rich man to enter into Heaven, if mony may buy out the paſt, preſent, and future ſins of himſelf, his deceaſſed and ſucceeding progenie? It Heaven be thus ſould, what been fit has my poverty, by the priſe alreapy paid? I find no happineſſe in roome on earth. Tis happineſſe for me to have roome in Heaven.

Nature bids me love my ſelf, and hate all that hurt me; Reaſon bids me love my friends, and hate thoſe that envy me; Religion bids love all, and hate none; Nature ſheweth care, Reaſon wit, Religion love, Nature may induce me, Reaſon perſwade me, but Religion ſhall rule me.

I will hearken to Nature in much, to Reaſon in more, to Religion in all.

Nature ſhall make me carefull of my ſelf, but hurtfull to none; Reaſon ſhall make me wiſe for my ſelf, but harmleſſe to all; Religion ſhall make me loving to all, but not careleſſe of my ſelf: I may heare the former, I will harken only to the latter; I ſubſcribe to ſomthings in all, to all things in Religion.

A large promiſe without performance, is like a falſe fire to a great peece, which diſchargeth a good expectation, with a bad report: I will fore-think what I will promiſe, that I may promiſe but what I will do: Thus whilſt my words are led by my thoughts, and followed by my actions, I ſhall be carefull in my promiſ • s, and juſt in their performance: I had rather do, and not promiſe, then promiſe, and not do.

I cannot ſ • e two Sawyers work at a pit, but they put me in mind of the Phariſee, and the Pub • ican, the one caſts his eye upward, whiles his actions tend to the p •• infernall

The other ſtanding with a dejected countenance, whiles his hands and heart move upward.

'Tis not a ſhame to make ſhew of our profeſſion, ſo we truly profeſſe, what we make ſhew of. But of the two, I had rather be good and not ſeeme ſo, then ſeem good, and not be ſo: The Publican went home to his houſe, rather juſtified then the Phariſee.

When I ſee leave • drop from their Trees in the beginning of Autumne: juſt ſuch think I, is the friendſhip of the world; whiles the ſap of maintenance laſts, my friends ſwarme in abundance, but in the winter of my need, they leave me naked; He is a happy man that hath a true friend at his need; but he is more truly happy that hath no need of his friend.

When I ſee the heavenly Sun, buried under earth, in the evening of the day, and in the morning to find a reſurrection to his glory, why (think I) may not the Sonnes of Heaven buried in the earth, in the evening of their day •• , expect the morning of their glorious reſurrection? Each night is but the paſt dayes funerall, and the morning his reſurrection.

Why then ſhould our funerall ſleepe be other then our ſleepe at night? why ſhould we not as well awake, to our reſurrection, as in the morning? I ſee the night is rather an intermiſſion of day, then a deprivation; and death rather borrowes our life of us, then robs us of it: ſince then the glory of the Sun, finds a reſurrection, why ſhould not the Sons of glory? ſince a dead man may live again, I will not ſo much looke for an end of my life as waite for the coming of my change.

A bad great one, is a great bad one; for the greatneſſe of an evill man, makes the mans evill the greater.

It is the unhappy priviledge of authority, not ſo much to act, as teach wickedneſſe, and by a liberall cruelty, to make the offendors ſin not more his own, then others.

Each fault in a leader is not ſo much a crime, as a rule for error. And their vices are made, (if not warrants yet) preſidents for evill.

To ſin by preſcription, is as uſuall as damnable, and men run poſt in their journey, when they go to the Devill with authority: when then the vices of the rulers of others, are made the rule for viſes to others, the offences of all great ones, muſt needes be the greateſt of all offences; either then let me be great in goodneſſe, or elſe it were good for me to be without greatneſſe.

My own ſins are to heavy for me: why then ſhould I load my ſelf with others offences.

There is no ſecurity in evill ſociety, where the good are often made worſe, the bad ſeldom better: for it is the peeviſh induſtry of wickedneſſe, to find, or make a fellow, 'tis like they will be birds of a fether that uſe to flock together: For ſuch doth their converſation make us, as they are with whom we uſe to converſe.

I cannot be certain, no • to meete with ill company, but I will be carefull not to keep with evill company. I would willingly ſort my ſelf with ſuch as ſhall teach, or learn goodneſſe. And if my Companion cannot make me better, nor I him good: I will rather leave him ill, then he ſhall make me worſe.

It i • the apiſh nature of many for to follow rather example, then precepts, but it would be the ſaffeſt courſe of all, to learn rather by precept then example. For there is many a good Divine, that ca • not learn his own teaching. It is eaſier to ſay, this do, th •• to do it: when therefore I ſee good Doctrine with an evill li • e, I may pitty the one, but I will practice the other. The good ſayings belong to all, the evill actions only to their Authours.

I ſee corruption ſo largely rewarded, that I doubt not, but I ſhould thrive in the world, could I get but a diſpenſation of my Conſcience for the liberty of trading.

A little flattery would get me a great deal of favour, and I could buy a world of this worlds love, with the ſale of this little trifle honeſty.

Were this world my home, I might perhaps be trading; but alas, theſe Marchandize yeild leſſe then nothing in heaven; I would willingly be at quiet with the world, but rather at p •• ce with my Co • ſcience; the love of men is good, whilſt it laſteth; the love of God is better, being everlaſting.

Let me trade then for thoſe heavenly Marchandize: If I find thoſe othe • in my way, they are a great deal more the • I looke for, and (within little) more then I care for.

As faith is the evide • ce of things not ſeen, ſo things that are ſeen, are the perfecting of faith.

I believe a tree will be green when I ſee him leafeleſſe in winter. I know he is green, when I ſee him flouriſhing in Summer. It was a fault in Thomas, not to believe till he did ſee. It were a madneſſe in him not to believe when he did ſee. Beleefe m •• y times exceedes Reaſon, not oppoſe it, and faith be often above ſence, not againſt it.

Thus whiles fa •• h doth aſſ ••• me, that I eat Chriſt effectually, ſence muſt aſſure me, that I taſt bread really.

For thou • h I o • tentimes ſ • e not t • eſe thi • gs th • t I beli • v • ; yet I m ſt ſtill believe thoſe things that I ſee.

The Croſſe is but a ſigne of Chriſt crucified. Chriſt crucified the ſubſtance of the Croſſe, the ſigne without the ſubſtance is as nothing: the ſubſtance without the ſigne is all things. I hate not the ſigne, though I adore but the ſubſtance, I will not blaſpheame the Croſſe of Chriſt, I will not worſhip but Chriſt crucified, I will take up my Croſſe, I will love my Croſſe, I will beare my Croſſe, I will imb • ace my Croſſe, yet not adore my Croſſe, All knees ſhall bend in reference to his name, mine never bow in Idolatry to his Image.

As the giver of all things, ſo each receiver loveth a chearefull giver; for a bargen is valued by the worth of the thing bought, but a guift, by the mind of the party giving, which made the widdowes mite of more worth, then the riches of ſuperfluity. I ſee then, he gives not beſt, that gives moſt, but he gives moſt that gives beſt: If then I cannot give bountifully, yet I will give freely, and what I want in my hand, ſupply by my heart: he gives well that gives willingly.

When I ſee the Larkers day-net ſpread out in a faire morning, and himſelf whirling his artificiall motion; and obſ • rves by the reflecting luſter of the Sun, on the whirling inſtrument, not only the merry Larke, and fearfull Pigion, are dazled, and drawn with admiration: but ſtowter birds of pray, the ſwift Merlin, and towring Hobby, are intiſed to ſtoope, and gazing on the outward forme; loſe themſelves.

Me thinks I ſee the Devills night-nets of intiſing Harlots fully paralleld, ſpread out for us; in the v • gor of our youth, which with rowling eyes, draw on the luſtfulneſſe of affection, and betray the wantonneſſe of the heart, and wich their alluring glanſes often make to ſtoope within the danger of their fatall nets; not only the ſimple, and careleſſe, but others alſo; men otherwiſe, wary and wiſe, who coming within the pull of the net, lye at the mercy of that mercileſſe Fowler, to their certain deſtruction.

Hence, I reſolve, when I ſee ſuch glaſſes, to ſhun ſuch motions, as aſſured that theſe Glaſſ • s have Nets adjoyning, thoſe Nets a Fowler attending, that Fowler a death prepared for me, then which I cannot dye a worſe. I may by chance, I muſt of neceſſity, at ſome time come within their view; I will at no time come within their danger. I cannot well live in this world, nor at all in the better world, if I be caught in their fatall Nets.

As oft as I heare the Robin-red-breaſt chant it as cheerfully in September, the beginning of Winter, as in March the approach of the Summer: why ſhould not we (thinke I) give as cheerfull ent • rtainment to the hoary Haires of ou • ages Winter, as to the Primroſes of our youths ſpring; why not to the declining Sunne in adverſity, as (like Perſians) to the riſing Sunne of proſperity; I am ſent to the Ant to learne induſtry, to the Dove to learne innocencie, to the Serp • nt to learne wiſdome; a • d why not to this Bird to l • arne Equanimity and patience, a •• to keep the ſame teno • of my mind •• q •• etneſſ, as well at the app •• ac •• of calamitous Winter, as of the Spring of h • ppin • ſſ • ? And ſince the Romans conſtanc • e is ſo commended, who changed not his countenanc • with his changed Fortunes; why ſh • uld not I with a Chriſtian reſolution hold a ſteddy cou ſe in all weat • ers? and though I be • orced with croſſe Winds • o ſhift my Sayles, and catch at ſide Winds, y • t skilfully to ſteare and keep on my courſe by the Cape of good hope, till I arrive at the haven of eternall happineſſe.

And now to conclude, Meditation is a buſie ſearch in the Store-houſe of Fantaſie, for ſome Ideas of matters to be caſt in the moulds of reſolution, into ſome formes of words, or actions; in which ſearch when I have uſed my greateſt diligence I finde this in concluſion▪ that to meditate on the beſt, is the beſt of Meditations; and a reſolution to make a good end, is a good end of my reſolutions.

A Morning Prayer.

O Moſt gracious God and loving Father, we heartily thanke thee for all thy loving kindneſſes ſo abundantly ſhewed upon us: for our Election, Creation, Redemption, mercifull Vocation, Juſtification, Sanctification, and continuall preſervation, and for our aſſured hope of our Glorification in the world to come.

We praiſe thy gracious goodneſſe for ſo mercifully preſerving us this night paſt, and delivering us from all dangers both of ſoule and body, for that thou haſt given us ſo ſweet and comfortable reſt, and haſt brought us to the beginning of this day: And as thou haſt ſafely preſerved us unto this preſent houre, from all dangers of this life; ſo we beſeech thee to continue this thy favour towards us this day, and the whole courſe of our life; ſuffer us not by vaine alurements of this world to be drawne away into ſinne and wickedneſſe: aſſiſt us with thy Grace and holy Spirit, that we ſpend not our times vainely, or idely, but that we may alwaies be diligently exerciſed in the duties of our Calling, to the benefit of our Brethren, and diſcharge of our Conſcience: Grant that in all our conſultations, words, and workes, we may ever have thee preſent before our eyes, through Jeſus Chriſt our Lord and Saviour. Amen.

An Evening Prayer.

O Moſt gracious Lord God and loving Father, we heartily thanke thee for all thy mercies, bleſſings, benefits, and preſervations, ſo abundantly ſhewed towards us. We doe praiſe thy glorious goodneſſe for ſo mercifully preſerving us this day paſt, and delivering us from all perills and dangers both of body and ſoule, for proſpering and preſerving us in health and proſperity, for giving us all things neceſſary for this preſent life, as health, food, and apparrell, and other convenient things needfull; this gracious goodneſſe of thine we beſeech thee, O Lord, to continue towards us for ever.

And here, O Lord God, we offer up unto thee our ſelves, and ours, our ſoules, our bodies; we recommend our lives, our meanes, and all we have unto thy gracious preſervation and protection, in aſſurance that that cannot periſh which is committed unto thee; keep us this night in ſafety, and grant, good Lord, that our bodies may ſleep, and ou • ſou • es may watch for the commi • g of our Saviour thy Son Jeſus Chriſt, tha • ſo our ſoules and bodies may be more apt, and able, to ſerve thee in that eſtate and Calling wherein thou haſt thought good to place us; we doe confeſſe and acknowledge, O mercifull God, that we are moſt miſerable and wicked ſinners, as well by originall corruption of Nature, as by the courſe of our evill and naughty life; we have, and doe daily breake and tranſgreſſe thy moſt holy Law and Commandements, both in thought, word, and deed. By the meanes of this ſinne and corruption, we doe continually deſerve moſt juſt condemnation, and to be for ever caſt out of thy preſence; yet ſuch is thy goodneſſe towards us, thou wouldeſt not ſuffer us thus to periſh in our ſins, but haſt ſent thine owne deare Sonne Chriſt Jeſus, to take upon him whatſoever is due to us, and to reconcile and mak • us one with thee againe: In him therefore, and thorow him we come unto thee, beſeeching thee for his ſake, that we feeli • g the griev • uſneſſe of our ſi • nes, and groaning under the burthen of them, may finde the releaſe and • aſe of them, in that we through thy ••• y Spirit ſtedfaſtly bel • eve that Chriſt hath borne the burthen of them, even for us. Grant O Lord, that we being aſſured hereof in our conſcience, may through thy holy Spirit, be renewed with more graces, and hate, deteſt, and abhorre all manner of ſinne, and ſtudy to live in all things according to thy bleſſed Will during our whole life. Grant this O deare Father, for Jeſus Chriſt his ſake. Amen.

A Prayer for remiſſion of ſins.

O Lord, glorious, ever-living, loving, everlaſting Father, I wretched ſinner preſume once againe after my ſinne to returne home unto thee, requeſting, begging, praying, and deſiring of thy heavenly Majeſty that thou wil • look downe upon me; I confeſſe, were it not for the hope of thy mercy, an • the hold of thy comfort, and the renewing graces which ſometimes I feele from thee, and that ſweet taſte and feeling of thy good gifts, and thy heavenly Word, I ſhould ſinke in deſpaire, for my ſinne is alwaies before me; if I go, they follow me; if I run, they fly after me; if I look back, they ſtare upon me; if I go forward, they meet me; if I turne to the right hand, they terrifie me; if to the left hand, they torment me: If I look down to earth, Hell is ready to devour me; now have I no way but to look up to thee (Lord) be thou then hore ready to receive me; help me good God, ſave me deare Father, ſuccour me ſweet Redeemer, aſſiſt me mercifull Creator, that my prayers may be ſo fervent, ſo zealous, ſo affectionate towards thee, that they may draw down thy mercies upon me; powre down thy bleſſings, ſhower down thy graces, open thy hand of mercy, reſtore joy and comfort to my heavie and laden ſoule, waſh away my ſins, wipe away mine iniquity, heale my infirmities, purge my wicked minde of all evill thoughts, pardon all miſdeeds, and wicked dealings, renew the good Spirit of he • venly graces, reſtore the joyes of thy holy comſorts upon me: O Lord, let me have ſome feeling, ſome taſte, ſome ſcent, ſome glimmering of thy glorious preſence: Let me feele ſome comfort, finde ſome joy, have ſome reſt; good Lord, let me be once truly renewed by thy grace, and ſetled in thy ſervice, that I never ſlip, nor ſlide back but grant unto me moſt mercifull Father) a ſure and ſetled dependance upon thee; ſo that in all my wordt, work • , and deeds, I may rejoyce in ſerving, fearing, and obeying thee; and that I may ſpend all the reſidue of my dayes truly ſerving thee, ſeeking to glorifie thy Name, and magnifie thy goodneſſe unto me, ſo long as it ſhall pleaſe th • e to lend me breath to this f • aile body; And mercifull Father, favourably governe and guide, help, inſtruct, and teach me in thy wi • dom to magnifie thy holy Name; multiply and increa • e thy mercies on me, O Lord, preſerve and proſp • r me in all my waies and works, and all about me; remember thy poore flock, build up thy Church, renew Sion governe, aſſiſt, and bleſſe all pain ull Preachers and Paſtors of thy Word, teach them and us underſtanding, rihgtly to know thee, and truly to follow thee; awake my drowſie ſoule, defend it from evill imaginations, keep me in holy and heavenly meditations, grant me to obſerve thy waies, ſo that I may walke in piety, and peace: ſet my ſinnes ſo before mine eyes, that when I look back on them, I may with ſorrow weep, lament, and repent my time paſt, which hath been ſpent ſo wickedly, or unprofitably. O powerfull Preſerver remember me, reſtore me to joy and comfort, and haſten in time, thy ſalvation unto me. Draw my lingring ſoule, and it ſhall run after thee; turne me unto thee with all willi • gneſſe, come thou neare unto me, g •• d Lord, and d • clare and ſhew thy mercies on me; eſt • bliſh me in grace, excite me to good •• ſſe: Give me grace that I may alwaies grow ſtronger and ••••• ger, to walke before thee, weaker and we • ker to ſinne, faithfull and ••• me in thy ſervice. Grant this, deare G • d, and mercifull Father, for Chriſt Ie • us his ſake, our Saviour and Rede • mer. Amen.

A Prayer in time of Warre.

O Glorious Lord God, and everlaſting Father, we intreat the • mercifully to looke downe upon us▪ and hearken unto our complaint • and deſires, and grant we beſeech thee our requeſts, O gracious Father, thou knoweſt nor ſinnes and our iniquities are not hid from thee, they lye open to thy Judgements, yet we know that thy mercies are the cure of our miſeries; and when w • fly to thee, thou draweſt neare to us; we beſeech thee now to be favourable, and ſpare us for all our ſinne • paſt, and be ready to deliver us from ſinnes to come; looke down in mercy upon us, and as thou haſt been ou • everlaſting defence, ſo now defen • us from the rage of our enemies; go • in ond out O Lord before our Armies, before our Generalls, before ou • Fleets, and Commanders: And gran • we may be thy Souldiers, to fight under thy Banner; ſtirre up our hearts and ſtrength againſt the enemy, defend thy afflicted Flock; remember we beſeech thee the burthen of miſery laid upon thy Church in this time, in theſe our Kingdomes, and elſewhere, and in thy due time reſtore them to their former glory. Settle our hearts and affections to regaine, and recover that which hath been loſt, and grant that we ſeeing their double dealing may no longer truſt to them which have no truth; they imagine miſchief in their hearts, and are ſet on fire to doe ill; but breake thou the knot of their malice, lay open their plots, diſcover their devices, weaken their Armies, over-throw their Inventions, confound their Councels, and conſume their numbers. O Lord, thou haſt in times paſt made the Starres to fight in order, the Sun to ſtand ſtill, the Seas to devoure, the Winds to overthrow thy enemies: So now, O Lord, cauſe theſe thy Creatures to aſſiſt, and help us, and our diſtreſſed Neighbours, that all the world may know, It is thou that fighteſt our Battels, and undertakeſt our cauſe.

Finally, O Lord, bleſſe we beſeech thee, us, and every one of us in what we ſhall take in hand, for defence of thy Church, and Truth; bleſſe we intreat thee our King and Parliament, our State and Clergy, our Communalty; and give thy bleſſing unto us all; and laſt of all, bleſſe we beſeech thee all the worthy Companies of Souldiers, in Cities, and all other places in the Land; bleſſe O Lord their inventions of Warre, and make them expert by their practiſes, proſper all their undertakings; ſo that all the world may know, that thou art the Guider of our Councells, and Leader of our Armies. Grant this deare Father, and all other good things unto us, for the good of the Church amongſt us, and the reliefe of others by us, now and ever, for Chriſt Jeſus ſake our only Saviour and Redeemer. Amen.

A Prayer for Gods protection of his Church in reſpect of the preſent troubles of it.

ALmighty God, the Lord of Hoſts, and Governour of all things, whoſe power no Creature is able to reſiſt, to whom it belongeth juſtly to puniſh ſinners, and to be mercifull to them that truly repent: Worke in us, and in all thy people, unfained and effectuall repentance, that what thou ſeeſt amiſſe in us, and amongſt us, or in any parts of thy Church, may ſpeedily and thorowly be reformed; that which is righteous and good in thy ſight may be eſtabliſhed and maintained, eſpecially in this our Land, and other places profeſſing thy Truth and Goſpell; and in the meane time while we ſtrive after that which may be moſt agreeable to thy holy Will, as it is revealed in thy holy Word; be mercifull unto us, and bring us on as thou ſeeſt it needfull, evermore ſupporting us in our moſt gracious Shepherd by thy ſtaffe of comfort. And thou Sonne of David, that knoweſt the mercileſſe condition of Satan, and cruell men, his curſed Inſtruments; we humbly beſeech thee never to deliver us over into their power, but ſave, and defend us, and all thy people, evermore from the hands of all our enemies both bodily and ghoſtly: And more particularly at this time, we earneſtly beſeech thee, O heavenly Father, by the mediation of thy Sonne Jeſus our only Mediator, to be mercifull to thoſe that are joyned with us, or ſtand out for thy Truth, or any righteous Cauſe; and give that iſſue to the preſent troubles of thy Church as may make moſt for thy glory, the advancement of thy Truth, and Goſpell, the reliefe of all thy diſtreſſed people, in all thoſe parts of thy troubled Church, and for the eſtabliſhing of truth and peace in this our Land.

May it pleaſe thee once to free all our Brethren from the dominion of that Miſtery of Iniquity, as alſo ſtill to ſhield and ſecure us, and all other profeſſing thy Name, and Truth, from that cruell Faction, which, as if they delighted in bloud, have already ſpoyled ſo many Nations.

Lord, thou only art the Catholick King, we can acknowledge no King over all the Earth but thy ſelfe, nor any Univerſ • ll Head over all thy Church but that only Arch-biſhop of of our ſoules, thy Sonne Jeſus our bleſſed Saviour, to whom all power is given both in Heaven and Earth.

Ariſe then thou Lord to whom the Kingdomes doe belong, and ſhew thy ſelfe, and let not the man of the Earth any longer exalt himſelfe, leaſt he be too proud, and leaſt he aſcribe to himſelfe, or to his graven Images, or vaine Idols, the conqueſt that thou ſhalt ſee, and ſuffer over thy people, Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy Name be the praiſe; For the honour of thy Name ariſe before Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manaſſes, before Great Britaine, Ireland, and other Countries that call upon thy Name; ariſe, and ſhew thy ſelfe for us, for on thee only doe we call: We call on thee to ſave us, and our Forces, and thy people now in more danger; how, and in what manner, and at what time fully to declare thy Salvation, we referre to thy heavenly wiſedome; only in the meane time, that it may pleaſe thee to ſanctifie, and ſave, to preſer • e and provide for them and us, and all thine both in Field and City; Protect and defend, deliver us and ours at home, and abroad: And thou great Sheheard of Iſrael, be pleaſed to take downe more and more that Man of Sinne, that hath, and would exalt himſelfe againſt thee; Aſſwage then the malice of thoſe that are enemies to us, or to any of thy people, and evermore confound all their devices, that we being armed with thy defence, may ever more and more give praiſe to thee, which art the only Author of our peace, and Giver of all victory. And all this good Lord for us, for them, and all thine, not for our merits, but for thy great Mercy ſake, and for the Truth ſake of thy gracious Promiſes in Jeſus Chriſt our Lord, and only Advocate and Redeemer. To whom with thee O Father, and the holy Spirit, be all praiſe and glory now and for ever-more. Amen.

A Prayer before Sermon.

O Moſt gracious God, aſſiſt me I humbly beſeech thee in this my good purpoſe and zeale, and give me grace at this preſent time godly to enter into thy ſervice: Deare Father, aſſiſt me with thy holy Spirit, and drive away all vain and idle cogitations out of my minde, that I may heare thy Word to my Soules comfort; grant that it may take deepe roote in my heart, and bring forth plentifully, to the honour of thy bleſſed Name, to the comfort of my Soule, and the good example of my Brethren, who ſeeing my good workes may glorifie thee my only Saviour and Redeemer. Amen.

A Prayer before the receiving of the Sacrament.

O Moſt ſweet lover of all Mankinde, Lord and Saviour, I beſeech thee for thy bitter Paſſion ſake to remove from me all pride, envie, and detraction, wrath, malice, and impatience, and all other ſickneſſes and diſeaſes of the Soule; and plant good Lord in my heart and minde true meekneſſe, charity, temperance, and modeſty, with all ſuch other vertues and preſervatives unto the Soule; And mortifie in me good Lord, all uncleane motions, carnall deſires, and inordinate affections, and revive in me the love of vertues, and the perpetuall exerciſe thereof; ſo that at this time, and at all times I may worthily receive this holy and bleſſed Sacrament unto thine honour and glory, and my ſoules endleſſe joy and comfort. Amen.

A Prayer after receiving of the Sacrament.

JN moſt humble and moſt hearty manner, with moſt due reverence I thank thee good Lord, moſt holy Father, and everlaſting God; tha • by the bounty of thy mercifull grace wouldeſt vouchſafe thus to refreſh and feed my Soule through faith, with the benefit of the Death and Paſſion of thy Sonne our Lord God and Saviour Ieſus Chriſt.

And I beſeech thine infinite goodneſſe, that this the Sacrament of this thy Death and Paſſion, which I moſt unworthy wretch have now received, may never come hereafter in Iudgement and Condemnation unto me, for mine evill merits, and deſervings; but rather good Lord, it may come to the profit and comfort of my body, and to the ſalvation of my Soule unto the life everlaſting. Amen.

A Prayer at the houre of death.

O Heavenly Lord God, wee poore wretches being overcome with griefe, come all here attending thy good pleaſure with this ſick Servant of thine, O Lord incline to heare our Prayers, and his complaints unto thee; be now O Lord preſent, and ſend thy good Angels and Spirit to attend us; be with us O Lord, and comfort this ſick perſon, and now if the time be come of his departure, grant O Lord he may depart with godly comfort, and joy everlaſting into thy Kingdome: Eaſe O Lord his griefs, mittigate his paines, aſſwage his ſorrowes, an • give him a lively touch of thy heavenly comfort: put by all worldly thoughts, and beat downe all bad ſuggeſtions, let nothing but good come in his minde, and grant that he may to the laſt gaſpe of breath, breath out ſtill ſome comfort of thy helpe, and grant when he hath done his laſt, to finiſh this mortall life, then he may with Lazarus be carried into Abrahams boſome. O Lord forgive him, O Lord receive him, O Lord protect him, O Lord ſuccour and ſave him, and now and for ever grant he may reſt with thee in eternall glory.

Heare us good Father for this our Brother, and doe for him and us according to thy Fatherly mercy in Jeſus Chriſt; to whom we commend him, with theſe our prayers for him, and all his, and our occaſions, in tha • prayer which thy bleſſed Sonne hath taught us.

Our Father which art, &c.

FINIS.