Meditations divine & morall by H.T. ...

Meditations divine & morall by H.T. ...

Table of contents

Title page

MEDITATIONS. I

II.

III.

IV.

V.

VI.

VII.

VIII.

IX.

X.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV.

XV.

XVI.

XVII.

XVIII.

XIX.

XX.

XXI.

XXII.

XXIII.

XXIV.

XXV.

XXVI.

XXVII.

XXVIII.

XXIX.

XXX.

XXXI.

XXXII.

XXXIII.

XXXIV.

XXXV.

XXXVI.

XXXVII.

XXXVIII.

XXXIX.

XL.

XLI.

XLII.

XLIII.

XLIV.

XLV.

XLVI.

XLVII.

XLVIII.

XLIX.

L.

LI.

LII.

LIII.

LIV.

LV.

LVI.

LVII.

LVIII.

LIX.

LX.

LXI.

LXII.

LXIII.

LXIV.

LXV.

LXVI.

LXVII.

LXVIII.

LXIX.

LXX.

LXXI.

LXXII.

LXXIII.

LXXIV.

LXXV.

LXXVI.

LXXVII.

LXXVIII.

LXXIX.

LXXX.

LXXXI.

LXXXII.

LXXXIII.

LXXXIV.

LXXXV.

LXXXVI.

LXXXVII.

LXXXVIII.

LXXXIX.

XC.

XCI.

XCII.

XCIII.

XCIV.

XCV.

XCVI.

XCVII.

XCVIII.

XCIX.

C.

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MEDITATIONS Divine & Morall By H. T. M: A: and sometimes of St Iohn's Colledge, Cambridge.

Give eare to my words, o Lord, consider my Meditations.

Ps. 5.1

LONDON Printed for Robert Gibbs at the Signe of ye Golden Ball in Chancery Lane near Serjants Inn 165 [...]

MEDITATIONS.
I

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A Good Preacher should be a good Orator. Pure language and Sound doctrine may well stand together. Bad Rhetorick will marre the Text, which a gentle paraphrase can make both plain and pleasant. Oratory though it doe not constitute a Divine in his [Page] Essence, yet it makes him powerful in his speech. The word of God is not the [...] words of A [...], and [...] [...] ciples prove more effectual by a gracious utterance. Divinity is the Queen and the Mistresse of all other Sciences; and 'tis sit that such a Sovereigne should be dress'd in stately Robes. The Minister is the Ambassador of Heaven, and shall he present his message in a scurvy Style? his expressions may be clear and yet Eloquent. A sentence well cloathed does not perplex, but help the understanding, and quicken the memory. What reasonable Hearer can sleep at a Sermon composed by a wakeful braine? An Elaborate phrase should make our ears glow and stirre [Page] up our attention to a diligent admiration. An affectation of Eloquence in the pulpit is unhandsome; but fit allusions and significant terms are both comely, useful, and necessary.

II.

There is much difference betwixt knowledge and true wisdom. Learning sometimes makes men very fooles. 'Tis true indeed, that the Arts and Sciences are the riches of the soul, but without a discreet use no better then a treasure either prodigally spent, or superstitiously kept under lock and key. Some have grown more wise by experience than others by their deep study and revolution [Page] of Authors. They that want most do not always catch most; and oftentimes a natural wit far excels the greatest industry. Labour does but rack the brains, and often overturn it. The most learned are so far from a solid understanding, that many times they fall into madnesse the extremity of folly. Mens writings for the most part are full of formality, but their actions speak the proper sense of their mindes. Books commonly are nothing but phrase, and style, and fancy; but the soakest instructions proceed from Example. He that hath no other way to discover himself but by the Pen, will prove an object of more scorn then admiration. Much reading is a great [Page] hindrance to good breeding; and hence it is that the best Schollars are such perfect clowns. The truth is, the deepest apprehension, the quickest judgement may be very ignorant in the matter of our conversation both towards God and towards man. Learning of it Selfe is neither grace nor manners, though it may be an Ornament to both.

III.

When I behold some rare picture or any other curious piece, my judgement presently informs me that some curious Artist had a hand in it. Every stately building directs us to the consideration of him that built it. And shall not [Page] the contemplation of the world and the knowledge of so many excellent things therein contained, constraine us to acknowledge a Supream power that over-rules all? The Ship cannot saile in a direct course without a Pilot: the City cannot be well governed without a Magistrate: and can any man conceive that those lights of heaven, the Stars could continue their equal courses without his providence that made them? or that the earth could remain so well ordered by Natures Law, if there were not some over-ruling Lord to command and direct? He is but dimme sighted that cannot behold the omnipotence of God, the goodness, the favour, and love of [Page] God to man in this outward frame and fabrick of created powers; Yet the Sunne will shine though men be blinde, and the invisible Deity is still himself, though the Atheist will not believe it.

IV.

Friendship if once broken is hardly made up again. Those things which are of a most pure composition if once dissolved are never united. Pieces of chrystal cannot be sodered: so hard it is to reconcile them, who from close familiarity are divided into mutual hatred. Where is there greater enmity then betwixt Brethren? whom Nature hath linked together, the Devil [Page] can divorce into everlasting discord. The Reason of this (I conceive) is, because the best things corrupted become worse: and when vertue it self shall degenerate into sin, who can hope for any reparation or recovery to goodness?

V.

Too much desire of learning leads a man into a discontented ignorance. Curiosity is the bain of our soules, the nurse of infidelity. He that would know more then he can, will not believe so much as he ought. He that thrusts himself into unnecessary speculations, will first neglect, and at last forget a necessary truth. He that strives for more then he [Page] can well apprehend, may lose what he hath already obtained. A modest search into the secrets of nature is both easie, pleasant, and profitable; but to dive into the depths of an impossible Art will but puzzle and distract the brain. An inquisitive soul may go farre, and finde out much; but still he shall see more ground before him then he hath left behind. Some men that would seeme to understand all things, are most ignorant. A curious inquiry puts them into a vaine conceit of their own strength and parts, the onely traytor to the understanding. The beames and light of the Sunne refresh the sight; but if we fix our eye upon it, the object offends, and but dazels [Page] the beholder. He that knew most,Eccl. 1.14 knew that the upshot of all was but vanity and vexation of Spirit.

VI.

We are naturally more sensible of Affliction then of comfort. Haman is more troubled with one crosse from Mordecai, then satisfied with all the reverence of his Adorers; which yet proceeds from an over-valuation of our content: whence it is that we are so affected in the losse or least interruption of our happinesse; presently struck dead if our expectation be deceiv'd. David cries out for his sonne Absolon, 2 Sam. 18 33 as if the whole frame of nature had [Page] been involved in his destruction, when for his own sake he had more reason to be transported with passions of joy. Here was not onely an excess, but a misprision of love; a mistake of natural affection. He was so swallowed up with the sense of his supposed misery, that he knew not how to value a good turn. The Object of his fond delight did suppress the clearness of his judgement, that he could not distinguish betwixt a benefit and an injury. So apt are we to repine at our crosses from too much indulgence to our delights, that commonly we take one for the other.

VII.

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Idlenesse is the barrennesse of the soul. All living creatures have by nature some kinde of employment, the benefit of which is communicated to the rest of the world. The worst things have some goodnesse, and are still busied in some active engagement for a generall use and profit. Plants and herbs which have no visible motion advance themselves by degrees into a fruitful state and condition. The creature without life, is not without action. With what a brave carere the shining Sunne spreads his diurnal pace? And how the sister Moon in a constant change [Page] follow this leading dance? How nimble is the fire, how piercing is the air? How the Sea rowles about with perpetual waves? All which may teach man a lesson of laborious diligence, and raise him from the lethargy of a non-imployment. Laziness corrupts both the body and the minde. Nothing can be so tedious and irksome as to want business. Exercise keeps the heart in tune, and feeds the spirits with a lively sense, whereas doing nothing disorders the brain, and starves the quickest wits into a dull discontent.

VIII.

Boldness is an Ornament to a vertuous man: but when [Page] 'tis put on to boulster up a vicious act, nothing more odious. Bashful vertue 'tis a foolish sin, and bold vice is a sinful bravery. Too much modesty intangles the soule with many impediments; and over-daring drives headlong into infinite dangers. Remorse for sinning is a divine grace, but to be ashamed of goodnesse is the next way that leads to impiety. How many good natures have betray'd themselves for want of courage to deny an unreasonable importunity? As I would not stubbornly reject the worst request, so I shall never grant the be [...]t without some intimation of power in the libertie of a denial. I will neither accept nor afford any thing in such a manner, [Page] but that the world shall see, I could easily forbear to confer, and as easily refuse a benefit.

IX.

If a man were nothing but all eare, yet a boundlesse tongue would tire his patience. And commonly those that are tedious in their discourse, are also impertinent. He that regards his matter, will not strive for words. He that loves to hear himself talk, considers not what will please others. How was poore Horace tortured with the shuffling shifting voice of Crispinus! Like the scraping of a trencher, or the noise of a drum to a learned Student, such are the ill sounds of a talkative mouth to a judicious [Page] hearer. The teeth and lips seeme to be drawn out as a circle to keep in the slippery speech; which must needs run some hazard when it runs too far without these lines of communication. But if a present danger cannot fright the secure speaker, I wish those that love to speak much would Mat. 12.36consider that one day they must give an account for every idle word.

X.

It is an easie task to censure another. Hardly any thing can be undertaken without some mistakes. No man can express himself so exactly, but a censorious critick will finde matter enough to work upon. We may easily spy a fault [Page] where there are many vertues. It is not always a part of wisdom to discover a folly. Ignorance is a busie fool that would seem wise by condemning others, when it knows least it self. He that is alwayes raking in ashes will but foule his own face; and he that seeks to diminish the credit of his neighbour, may cast a blemish upon his own reputation.

XI.

There are certain birds of Paradise which make the best musick in a Cage. The sweet singer of Israel was most full of melody in his greatest Afflictions. David could blesse God in a cave, Iob on the dunghill. The prison sometimes [Page] is the Saints Quire, where the heart is at liberty, while the body is under restraint, and their very groans are acceptable notes of praise and benediction.

The good mans sorrow is never without some joy. Our very hope can afford us songs of deliverance. When our heavenly father makes up the consort, who can forbeare to tune his voice and keep time with him? Heaven and happinesse waits upon them that with patience attend his leasure. Gods presence translates the Dungeon into a Sanctuary, turns Babylon to Hierusalem, captivity into triumph. Our Jaylors are our life-guard, our enemies our servants, since they serve but as instruments [Page] to his will upon us, who is indeed our Master. He is happy enough that can patiently expect salvation. As the Marriner keepes under hatches till the tempest be allayed, so our present misery is nothing but a safe retiring till all dangerous stormes be blown over, and we arive at last to the Haven of our Rest.

XII.

In experience I shall observe this Rule; rather spend too little then too much. For covetousness there may be some satisfaction, but the Prodigal is lost beyond all Redemption. He that spends above his abilities will never be able to make himselfe amends. [Page] I had rather deceive the expectations of others, then cosen my self. He that straines his estate to be accounted liberal, may be thought covetous when all's spent: for the world is most apt to censure those that decline their former course. Give God his due in Tythes, the poor in Almes, and thy self in Necessaries, and there will remaine no great superfluitie of wealth to cast away in vanity.

XIII.

Our joys in this world do not alwayes run smooth and clear. The best Contentments have some kinde of muddy mixture; the sweetest cup hath some Lees at the bottom. Our [Page] outward peace is frequently interrupted; our inward peace is oftentimes eclipsed. Here is no constant satisfaction in this Region of vicissitude. Our comforts are neither full nor permanent. We must look for that happinesse in heaven. Who would live in this vale of brittle earth where every thing consumes, and nothing is everlasting? In the highest advancement some clouds will overshadow us. In the heighth of joy, there may be a depth of sorrow. There is a kinde of connexion in contrarieties. Here prosperity and adversity are linked together. It is said of Hezekiah after his glorious victory over the host of Zenacherib, Isa. 38.1. that in those dayes Hezekiah was sick to the [Page] death. Those dayes are these dayes, and all dayes in our sphere, where the greatest blessings are perpetually attended with some discontents, and such sometimes that sicknesse or death would be a blessed remedy.

XIV.

Nothing makes the work of God in the compositions of our bodies more admirable then the beauty of their shape and curious Art used in the workmanship. For this cause the Royal Prophet considering his Creation cries out as one ravished with admiration, I will praise thee, Psal. 139.14 for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. No image or picture can be [Page] compared with the form of a mans body: no imbroydered piece can be so well wrought, or set out with such variety of excellent figures. But when we consider that besides, there is a soul inclosed in this exquisite frame, as farre above it as that above all other things, we cannot be so unthankful or unreasonable as not to acknowledge that the divine hand of heaven hath a peculiar influence of benediction and favour to the race of mankinde, beyond all other Creatures whatsoever.

XV.

In every work, we are to regard as well the manner of performing it, as the work it self. It is not enough to say [Page] our prayers, to go to Church, to hear a Sermon, to receive the Sacrament, to gives alms; but all this must be performed with hearty devotion. Though the Ark be brought to his place of Rest, yet God is not well pleased to have it drawn with Oxen in a Cart. 1 Sam. 6. The widows two mites were more acceptable then all the others wealth: she gave all she had with all her heart, whereas they perhaps out of pride, or ostentation, cast in their superfluities into the common treasure. A cup of cold water freely given shall not want a reward. Matth. 10.42 Our best services are nothing worth if not seasoned with truth and discretion. Therefore God once made a breach upon his people, [Page] because they sought him not after the due order. Our duties are undutiful if not duly marshalled and fitly ranked. Service without a method is worse then ill manners. No action can be well done without a good meaning; none well meant without a comely and decent behaviour. Every circumstance must bear the sense of sound wisdome and cleare justice.

XVI.

Beauty is a grace that proceeds from the proportion, agreement, and harmony of things; it is then most seemly in the body of man when it follows nature alone without any blemish or defect. How far we may use the help of [Page] Art, and disguise a deformity to appeare more comely then we are by our Creation, a sober Christian may easily resolve. As God is not pleased if we mangle and ma [...]erate our bodies with cruel tortures, so he cannot but be offended when we over-garnish them with gaudy colours, and lay on the varnish of a deep complexion. It is to be feared that they can hardly speak from their heart, that cannot blush from their own blood. When the face can dissemble so well, the tongue may be suspected too. A painted feature is the emblem of vice, which would seem to be adorned with the blushing colours of vertue, when she intends nothing but temptation. We [Page] are not to disfigure our faces when we fast in our greatest sorrow; nor reform them too much when we feast in our highest mirth; we must not mar Gods work; we must not mend it so as if it should need no additions of glory hereafter.

XVII.

Wicked men judge of other mens afflictions by their own.2 Sam. 1. The Amalekite was very well pleased with the death of Saul; and therefore thought the news would be welcome to David, for which, instead of a reward, he lost his life. It sounds very ill in Davids ear that his enemy was destroyed; though he stood betwixt him and a [Page] Crown. He desires not to rise in his Throne by the fall of another. He finds no matter of joy in a Kingdome got by blood. Thus different are the thoughts of a good soul from the vaine conceits and imaginations of a worldly minde. Therefore they deceive themselves that measure the disposition of others by their own standard. The giddy drunkard thinkes the world runs round as well as his braines. The vitious man accounts vertue an impossibility, and will not be perswaded that there is any such thing indeed as conscience or Religion, till at last woful experience constraine him to confess the truth with too late Repentance.

XVIII.

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The prosperity of wicked men may breed in weak mindes some doubt of Gods providence. They live as if they had a security for everlasting happiness. Whereas vertue lies unregarded, and contemned, assaulted with continual stormes of misery. The bold sinner never misses of preferment, but modest innocence may starve without compassion. How seldome do we see any preferred for his deserving qualities? Villany is so much in fashion, that 'tis absurd to be vertuous. 'Tis true, Vice is the gallant of this world, and the only favourite of fortune; but our observation [Page] may yet inform us, that shame is the consequent of sin. There are few exorbitant crimes but have their attended torments, though not alwayes apprehended. Both punishments and blessings have their season of maturity. The Judgements of God never faile, though they may be protracted. Some corrections are in secret. All offences are not branded with a publick mark. If there were no other torment but the guilt it selfe, it were enough to express the misery of a sinful life.

XIX.

The soul in respect of the body may be compared to an excellent Workman, who [Page] cannot labour in his occupation without some necessary instruments, and those well wrought and prepared to his hand. The most skilful Musician cannot raise any harmony from an instrument of musick out of tune. We are therefore to be very careful of these external parts, since the spirit which moves in them can naturally produce no actions of worth, if this instrumental frame be out of order. Hence it is that those men who abuse their bodies by the violence of intemperate sinnes, are sometimes over-taken, either with a sleepy dulnesse, or a wilde distraction. Their souls are not able to produce any worthy Act after a defect contracted upon their [Page] Organs, or else are unwilling to be restrained and confined to a bad lodging, or a loathsome dungeon. A good servant is a credit to his Master: a fine case is an Ornament to the jewel: a sound body is an honour to his immortal mistris, and is most fit to be a partner with her in everlasting glory. Whereas we may justly fear that they who bury themselves alive in rottennesse, shall inherit nothing but that which is worse then corruption, a generation of perpetual torments.

XX.

It is strange to see what alterations time will make. Those works which were built to perpetuate the memory [Page] of our Ancestors, are now laid level with the dust, how miserable were man if all his happinesse consisted in the remnant of a glorious Name! and yet this was all the immortality which some expected after death. The strongest Bulwarks of Renown cannot resist the breath of all-devouring age. Change and decay are the elements of every state and condition. The most ancient monuments and bones of the dead have been defaced with sacrilegious hands. There is so little certainty in what we enjoy, that we cannot hope to bequeath an infallible substance to our posterity. We may sometimes observe more changes in a few years, then in all [Page] probability of expectation many ages could produce. The world is like a Lottery where a man may be made or undone in a moment. The same person is Craesus to day and Irus tomorrow. There is no confidence or assurance in any worldly thing; we can neither recal what is past, command what is present, nor prevent what is to come.

XXI.

Amongst all those varieties of instruments made for the service and use of man, we cannot but admire the great nobility and worth of speech, with which he is endued above other creatures. By this we can convey our counsels [Page] and thoughts to one another, without this there would be but little benefit of the sense and understanding which God hath bestowed upon us. Beasts have a confused noise, and by that in some measure can declare their meaning: but men only can dispense an articular sound. We have reason therefore to be careful how we deliver our selves, and utter our conceptions in such words as may tend to the edification of others, and the glory of our Maker.

XXII.

Asa was a very good son of very bad parents. Goodness proceeds from the favour [Page] and grace of God, is not born with us, nor yet conveyed into our hearts by breeding and strict education. The best instructions are often rejected; and the worst principles cannot corrupt that heart which the holy Spirit is pleased to sanctifie. If men could entaile their vertues with their estates, what a world of glorious Saints would this world afford? On the other side, if vice were hereditary, what swarms of wickednesse would still increase? In all events whether of good or evill, let us alwayes admire the gracious providence of our heavenly Father.

XXIII.

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He that hath but a meane fortune must be careful not to plant himself amongst his Superiors, for great men always suspect the endeavours of those that are below them; and fearing their own greatness may be supplanted in time, prevent such a suspected mischief with the ruine of their neighbours. Power and Majesty can brook no equals. A rich neighbour is compared to a Pyke, that devoutes all the younger Fry. Pharaohs fat-kine eat up the leane. And the Sea swallows the smaller Rivers. The poor live best with the poore, as Bees thrives together in a swarme. [Page] But the sheep are in continual fear when the wolfe is near.

XXIV.

Religion and riches seldom meet together. They that are kept down with such cloddes of earth can hardly reach at the joys of heaven. The Rich-man is so puff'd up with the leaven of his wealth, that he cannot enter in at the strait-gate, and the way thither is too narrow for his spreading greatnesse. Poore Lazarus was advanced to the bosome of Abraham, while Dives lay frying in the bowels of Hell. Grace and abundance are not alwayes inconsistent; but Poverty hath fewer temptations, and less danger. Nay [Page] even in this world, plenty doth but crosse content; and he that hath all things to his minde, yet wants a mind to enjoy all he hath. Feare of loosing, care of preserving, envy of neighbours, opposition of enemies, so disturb his rest, that he cannot truly say, soul, take thy ease here, or soul, go to heaven hereafter.

XXV.

God and the world never agree in the measure of time. The purpose of his will; not the motion of the Sunne determines his houres. Did we set our wills by his decree, Gods clock and ours would alwayes strike together. Our affections are poised with the weights [Page] of selfe-love and ambition, which move too fast in regard of our true necessity which he only respects. The least delay seems tedious to an hasty minde, the longest is but short to the patient soul. Think not then that he is slow who never failes in the houre of his promise, though he answer not the very minute of our expectation.

XXVI.

Presumption is the harbinger of destruction. When men grow wanton in their sins, judgement is not farre from their elbows.1 Sam. 15.32. Agag cries out most sweetly, the bitterness of death is past, when ready to be hewed in pieces. When his hopes were at the [Page] highest pitch, Samuel laid him even with the ground. The candle makes the greatest blaze in the socket, but presently expires with an unwholesome smell. The bold sinner is most confident at his latter end, but that confidence betrays him to the power of utter darknesse.

XXVII.

He that begins well gives a good hope of his future proceedings. Yet the first actions of men do not always entaile a perpetuity of grace. Perseverance is a rare and emiment vertue. Ioash and Nero were two vertuous Princes under two excellent Tutors; but very bad Kings both, [Page] their after reignes did utterly disprove their former subjection. He that is rightly instructed in his youth will doe something worthy of his education; but those precepts which our Masters distill into the braine, are not ever rooted in the heart. Time will weare out the impression of goodnesse made upon our tender yeares, if not preserved and blessed by the secret insinuations, and continual motions of a divine spirit.

XXVIII.

It is impossible to gaine the good opinion of all the world. Let my conversation be never so innocent, there will be found some detractors to undervalue [Page] my reputation. If I do ill, the vertuous cannot love me; if well, the wicked must needs be my enemies. He that can clearly avoid the strokes of a censorious tongue hath more wit then honesty, and may be presumed to comply with all occasions to maintaine his credit, and in that looseth what he so slily endeavours to preserve. I shall labour therefore to approve my self to God and my conscience; and let others say what they please: my owne innocency is my own satisfaction.

XXIX.

He that sowes the winde, reaps the whirlewinde. Bad actions are onely fruitfull to [Page] destruction. Wickedness is alwayes attended with death. The end still answers the beginning. We cannot gather Grapes of Thornes, or Figges of Thistles. He that meanes to thrive, let him use those means to which the Providence of God addes a blessing. For what can any man expect but wages answerable to his work? The evil of sin, and the evil of punishment go hand in hand together; but grace and goodnesse are united with everlasting glory.

XXX.

Sinne in the very act may be full of pleasure; but it always leaves a sting behind it. The guilt and horror lies close a [Page] while in ambush, and then starts up to surprize the offender. The devil leads us in a dance to hell, and so leaves us to our ruine: like a crafty strumpet that with her flattering outside draws in the secure sinner to his own destruction, fits him with a fine disease in the rear of his delight. Vain man! How is folly ingraffed to thy very nature, that having so often tried the deceit of vice, wilt yet give credit to her pleasing smiles, and be thus courted to a miserable downfall.

XXXI.

The want of things makes them precious. We are scarce sensible of a benefit which we [Page] enjoy. Before possession we think our selves miserable; and when our desires are satisfied, we growe weary of our happinesse. The fond lover can court his Mistris with Oaths and Protestations, whom afterwards he esteemes no better then his necessary drudge. A poor man knows the value of a penny, when the rich Prodigal throwes away his pounds. How sweet is Liberty and Redemption to the Captive? Health and strength to the diseased? We are eager for those blessings which are denied us, and unthankful for those which we obtain. The apprehension is still fixt upon the object which is absent, as not thinking that which is present worth a serious and stedfast [Page] view. But certainly that man is most true to his owne content that can rightly value a blessing enjoyed, and comfortably use those favours which God and nature have bestowed upon him. As I would not overvalue any thing, least I be too much affected with grief in the loss, so, I will learn to know the just price of what I have, least my desire of more increase beyond all measure of satisfaction.

XXXII.

Those of the ancient Philosophers that were great admirers of Eloquence have propounded the image of an Orator, as it were of one who [Page] in speaking drew out the golden chaine from his tongue, and fastned it to the eares of his Auditors. Such vertue and power it hath to hold men to moderate and guide their affections; such is the pleasing violence of a few well placed words, that our desires seeme to be captivated and bound up to the will of the Speaker. Truth indeed is truth though it be plainly delivered; Religion can oblige the soul without these glorious bonds: yet when the daughter of time, and the mother of peace appear in their handsome Robes, the heart must be very stubborne and obstinate that will not yeeld it self a willing slave.

XXXIII.

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There is no designe be it never so wicked but is masked with a pretence of some good: for that which is absolutely evil, and plainly appears so to be, hath no agreement with the will of man: and therefore the worst mischiefs are commonly set on foot under a colour and shadow of goodnesse. Vice is like a painted strumpet which seems extraordinary faire and comely, when perhaps there is rottennesse in the bones, as well as deformity in the soul. Treachery and mischief have alwayes a pleasing outside, whereas vertue for the most part goes plaine and naked. Well may [Page] that man set himself out that hath nothing lovely within. Wickednesse if it be not courtly, will never be courted. And the gastly visage of sin, if it were not covered with an handsome vaile, could never tempt men to forsake their own freedome and become the servants of so vile a Mistresse.

XXXIV.

I will be kinde and courteous to all, but familiar with none but my intimate and equal friends: for the love of inferiours often-times degenerates into contemp [...]. Yet I had rather my carriage should savour of too much humility then over-much state: for the affections [Page] which proceed from popularity are not so dangerous as those passions of feare and envy which alwayes attend the proud. I will not think my self too good to look upon any man; but I will be sure that he whom I receive into my bosome acquaintance shall be at least as good a man as my selfe.

XXXV.

The death of a Martyr is attended with much glory and renown: who would not willingly embrace and entertaine that profession which is more precious then life it self? The condemned innocent hath sometimes converted the unjust Iudge, and by a glorious eluctation [Page] over-thrown the malice and envy of his adversaries. Eternity is the reward of every true Christian: yet they that die for Religion think they purchase heaven at an easie rare. The lively voice of a powerful preacher is not armed with such effectual Eloquence. They that will not be won with words, cannot but admire the cheerful Rhetorick of their constant resolutions. The Roman ensignes never spread so farre as the Christian standard: and those Red-characters have confuted the Egyptian learning. If we cannot maintain this Doctrine with the losse of life, it is in vain to teach it with the expence of breath. But how far are they out of fashion that [Page] study to disgrace it with both; and cannot be perswaded to entertain this profitable instruction within the verge of their opinion or practise.

XXXVI.

As we cannot live without eating and drinking, so it is requisite that we receive our sustenance with that moderation that no more be taken in then is necessary for the nourishment and refection of our bodies. If we take too little, we are guilty of Theft and Robbery upon our selves; if too much, of violence and oppression, and instead of satisfaction impose a burthen upon the flesh, and for preservation induce destruction; but the danger [Page] that falls out by not observing a mediocritie is more to be feared on one side then the other. Our appetite is more apt to offend in the excesse then in the defect. They that use their daily bread as Gods blessing, cannot transgress either way; but like a skilful Chymist that can refine his gross materials into a pure quintessence by the Art of sobriety, temperance and gratitude, are wont from their bodily food to extract a dyet for the soule which shall feed and preserve it to eternal life.

XXXVII.

A counterfeit zeale will degenerate into malice. There are no such Enemies to the [Page] House of God as those that seem to be the greatest friends. A profest adversary to the Church may be avoided; but a close enemy will not discover his hatred till it be too late to resist. Thus mischief can walk in the disguise of Religion; and Envy plays the Jesuite in a holy mask. I will always suspect his heart whose tongue flames with sacred words, when wanting their fit opportunities, and delivered in a hasty fit of devout passion.Prov. 7.16 Be not righteous overmuch is good Counsel. For Extreame puritie will turne at length into manifest impiety.

XXXVIII.

[Page]

There can be no condition of peace allowed to our souls, except, while we remain here in this earthly Garison, with our utmost strength and power we resist the rebellious corruption and tyrannicall enforcements of sin. Some learned Criticks would have Peccatum, sin, to be derived from Pecus a Beast; Properly enough if we consider the nature thereof: for by that we degenerate into a beastly disposition. How then can we expect the friendship and love of him who made us men, when we entertain that which deprives us (as it were) of our peculiar [Page] liar existence and proper Being? If we make an Agreement, or keep in league with wickednesse, he that as a friend is able to crown his blessings with eternity, as an enemy to destroy without end will redouble his anger and revenge.

XXXIX.

I will endeavour to live so, as if I saw God a perpetual spectator of my actions. Never yet was sinner so destitute of shame and grace, so arm'd with impudent boldnesse, that he durst always act a mischief before every mans face. If I consider that God sees my secret sinnes more plainly then any man my best works. I [Page] should out of modesty forbear to commit a shameful fault; and out of feare to offend him who is both witnesse and Iudge.

XL.

Nothing is so generally beloved as the immortality of a Noble name; and yet this in it self confers nothing to our happinesse or misery, either before or after death: it matters not how we are censured so we be really good; and if we be ill, a little credit may hide, but cannot abate our vilenesse. The hypocrisie of a false renown doth rather aggravate then diminish our unworthinesse. We may trample upon the graves of the dead, but cannot hurt their [Page] ashes: we may Canonize a Saint, but cannot make him such by our greatest adoration. The goodnesse of an action is in the stamp and character of its own nature, not in the value of a vain report. It were labour lost to pursue vertue, if it could be taken from us by the violence of a railing tongue. And though false witnesse may prevail for a time against the best innocence, yet the Iudge of all the world cannot be unjust in his judgement.

XLI.

By the composition and stature of our bodies we are admonished how to behave our selves one towards another. [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] Every man ought to dwell within his own bounds and limits, without incroaching upon his neighbours part. As there is space and roome enough in the Head for those operations that are there fixed, and the like in the rest of the Members, by reason of that good order and consent setled amongst them: So, the world is sufficiently great to serve all, if we had but skill to bear with one another, if every man would be content with his own state and condition, and satisfie himselfe with those peculiar gifts which he hath received from our Soveraign Lord as a member of the same body.

XLII.

[Page]

'Twas well said of one, Dreams are but dreams, that is, nothing but vanity. Yet by these a wise man can make a large discovery of his own inclination. The night sometimes represents things clearer then the day. Sleep (which is but the shadow of death) can furnish our soules with lively thoughts. The retired fancy is not disturbed with any outward object, and finds room enough to expatiate it self. To give credit to every dreame, and to neglect all, argues too much indiscretion in both extreames. Superstion, will make a God of nothing; contempt, will make [Page] nothing of God. The Braine is not destitute of her vigilant motions under the greatest load of drouzie Morpheus. It will become our wisdome to make a useful collection of our most extravagant fancies; which we may do well enough and yet not abuse our faith with too much curiosity or observation.

XLIII.

What miseries attend this life, when our best things are but vanity and vexation. Solomon had a general experience of this universal frame, yet could finde nothing but emptiness at the bottome. The world was made of nothing, consists of forms worth nothing, [Page] and at last shall returne to nothing. This will give our discretion wings to flie to heaven, the state of true blisse, of everlasting joy. As God made every thing by his power of nothing, so let us by grace from God make nothing of every thing: let us slight and neglect these transitory fading toyes: let us behold all as nothing, and behold our Lord as All in all.

XLIV.

He that would settle a distracted State, must first subdue all his Enemies. To exalt a troubled Kingdome, it is necessary that some should be made shorter by the hoad. The humble sheep can never [Page] rest securely, while the devouring wolves are at liberty. Mercy and favour prove cruel sinnes when exercised upon a brood of Traitors; for the innocent suffer when such guilty men are reprieved. The members of a Common-wealth are torn in pieces, when Rebels get a head above their Soveraigne. Divisions and factions are the tortures of a Crown; and he that neglects a correction must needs fall under it. A quick dispatch is the onely cure for such desperate diseases. A Prince that stayes to hear what his good rebellious Subjects can say for themselves, does but suffer them to destroy him in a way of complement and send him to heaven for his happiness.

XLV.

[Page]

We are all apt to dispute for a priviledge of revenge; and every man would have the power of a King within him and something more. The little shrub will contend with the lofty Cedar for supremacy. Therefore those primitive Champions underwent as hard a service in subduing their affections to be prepared for a ready submission to the wilful tyranny of some wicked Prince, as when they endured their fiery tryal, or the most subtil torments of persecution. This (I believe) was the greatest conquest. The sweet assurance of an innocent death will countervaile [Page] the worst extremity of paine and miserable torture. A good conscience is a continual feast: or (to use the expression of a learned Divine) food in famine, freedom in fetters, health in sicknesse, life in death.

XLVI.

As the body cannot live except it receive such food and nourishment as is agreeable to its nature, so the soul cannot thrive if it want the knowledge to which it is naturally inclined. And as life is preserved by heat in our bodily parts, so the being of our foules consists in the apprehension of that fervor which the love of God bestows upon it. The Spirit which is separated [Page] from the favour of God is in a mortal condition. The blessed estate of eternity belongs to those that are animated with the warme beams of a living mercy. The means appointed to obtain this happinesse is the heavenly and eternal word, which we use as a preparative to receive those precious viands of everlasting glory.

XLVII.

Marriage is a composition of both Sexes. The Creation was imperfect till Adam parted with a piece of himself to be returned with interest. It is some kinde of an affront to Nature, if there be no impediment to reject wedlock. [Page] It is that by which the world subsists; and he that upon reasonable termes will not improve such a benefit, is an enemy to the very essence and whole constitution of man-kinde. The chastity of a single life is a rare jewel; and blessed are they that can preserve it entire: yet honest Matrimony is the best remedy, either to prevent or cure a lascivious disease. When couples joyne with mutual favour and affection the danger of temptation is not so great; but a solitary vertue is not so well armed against the fiery darts of Satan.

XLVIII.

Nothing becomes Authority [Page] so well as a grave and sober moderation. Violence can never consist with peace. He that rises above his heighth may fall below himself. Preferment is a curse to him that knows not how to use it; and many men had beene happy if they had not been exalted. A man may know his distance, and yet not part with his humility, for 'tis a vertue requisite in all conditions. It is good to moderate the greatnesse of our prosperity with humble thoughts; for he whose minde exceeds his fortune is miserable enough in the highest advancement.

XLIX.

When the tongue runnes [Page] over, we may presume the heart is full of vanity. He that speaks much of himself never considers what he ought to do. His intention upon the fame makes him neglect the worth of his actions. He takes it for granted that all his deeds are currant coine, and therefore is bold to assume the glory of a high renown as the natural purchase of his merit. Thus presuming that he cannot act amisse he passes by the best opportunities of doing good; and is onely great in the tinkling sound of his own applause and commendation.

L.

He that marries meerly to [Page] satisfie his lust, may chance to have an ill match by the bargain; for if there be not abilities to maintain an estate, as well as strength to satisfie desire, true love and affection will soon growe cold. We cannot feed upon beauty: imbraces will not cloath the back. A single man may have patience enough to endure the worse of evils; but when poverty afflicts two souls together, the pain is intollerable. If fortune frown upon my self alone, I can finde the warres a remedy for such a disease: but what griefe can be conceived greater then this, to see my second-self ready to starve without power of reliefe, my little Infants crying for brea [...] when I have nothing [Page] but my teares to comfort them? The meanest beggar after death is as the greatest Prince: but he that leaves his wife a poor widow, starves in his memory, and is miserable in his grave.

LI.

Death can finde us out when we least look for it. A Summer Parlour is no ominous place of destruction:Judg. 3.20 yet there Eglon perished by the hand of Ehud. 2 Sam. 13.28 A brothers feast hath little shew of danger; yet there Amnon fell by the treachery of Absolon. Sitting is a posture of safety and ease: yet Eli by ill news was cast down from his seat and brake his neck.1 Sam. 4.13 The house of God is [Page] no stage of violence:2 Chron. 24.21. yet there Zechariah (or not farre from thence) was stoned by the people at the Kings Commandment. Where Ioash found a Sanctuary, the faithful Prophet findes a way to his grave. The same Ioash was slaine on his bed, Vers. 21. a receptacle of safe repose and quiet rest; slaine by his own servants, the Ministers of preservation and defence; as if their cruelty meant to prevent his sicknesse, and give the first blow to dissolution. His killing diseases could not secure him from violent hands. He little thought to be killed when he was ready to die. So his latter end came upon him unawares. Nay, then was the last year of his raign and life when he expected to [Page] live long, and rule at pleasure. The sword of Justice can destroy the sinner any where, at any time, beyond all expectation. And the best Saints sometimes are sent to heaven in a trice: though never unprepared, yet alwayes ignorant of the time; though not against their will, yet without their desire.

LII.

When God resolves to make his wisdom knowne by suppressing the counsels of Wise men, it is commonly done by small means, and weak instruments; thus the poor man shall save the City:Eccl. 9.15, thus Iaell Judg. 4.21shall prevaile against Sisera above an army of men: thus [Page] the folly of preaching hath confounded all the learning of the world. To teach us that nothing can be done without him. The streames of our strength runne dry unless the spring of his bounty be full. The best knowledge, if not attendant to his grace will faint and tire at last, but the least spark of wit animated by his goodnesse shall mount up with Eagles wings. Nothing can act rightly except he inspire the motion; Yet he that looks for Revelations, and expects a divine assistance to his undertakings without all endeavour on his own part, intends but to deceive himself and others. As too much confidence in the external helps of devotion brings in superstition, so too much neglect [Page] doth but advance profanenesse. The very name of a University is hateful to ignorant Atheists; and Heresies thrives best in the suppression of all learned diligence. Industry and grace will stand well together; strength and glory have a mutual complyance: Let us not trust overmuch to the one, nor caution our selves with a conceit▪ of the other.

LIII.

The common people judge of persons and things by the issue and event. Their love is violent upon a flourishing object, and their hate as cruel to those whom adversity hath overthrowne. Who but a [Page] Saul after his great victory over the Ammonites? How miserable is Iob afflicted by his seeming friends? Success is the Baud to vulgar admiration, while misfortune and misery do but court contempt and hatred. Prosperity may challenge respect and observance when ragged honesty can hardly move compassion. If a good conscience did not make amends for all extreamities, nothing were more miserable then vertue in a low condition. Our miseries may informe us that God himself is offended: yet such is the profit of Affliction that by it we may learn to prepare our hearts for endless joyes, and everlasting blessings.

LIV.

[Page]

There is not any vice more hateful to Almighty God, nor more disdainful or ridiculous in the society of man than pride: whereas a modest humility doth procure many divine favours, and knits the souls of men in a loving sympathy; a powerful cement, a binding vertue; that glues and ties all relations together: a center wherin every line of the circumference meets: the magnetique Lady of all other honourable graces: the Queen Regent of all other vertues; whose Scepter is tipp'd with a commanding power to tame the most desperate devil, and becalm all the turbulent combustions of [Page] a distracted enmity. Why should the minde disdaine to be submissive to her self, to be humble in her own thoughts? if she contemplate the greatnesse of that power that can depress the Cedars, and bring the hills down to the vallies; that hath not spared the inhabitants of the Heavenly Court, but hath deprived Lucifer and his train of that blessed Association? God cannot endure this swelling humour which flies like stinking smoke into his nostrils, and goes out like an unsavory snuff, that gives offence to all, and serves but to be thrown away and trod upon. Can I be proud of beauty, when I meet every day others farre more beautiful? Is my coxcomb [Page] curried with a little learning? do my brains begin to crow? there are those in the world, in comparison of whom I am but a plaine dunse, a forlorne ideot, a meer ignoramus. If we have much, how much more do we want? enough to make us humble. The proud Peacock is soon taken down when he beholds the blacknesse of his feet: the mournfull Hien makes the height of pride recoile into a bashful penance: he can no more admire the glittering bravery of his feathered rainbowe. So true is that of Solomon, Pro. 11.2. when pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdome. Nay such is the danger of this sinne, that from thence he inferres the [Page] consequence of all mischief and misfortune. Ch. 16.18 Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall; that alone is the cause of all jarring discord, and confusion; onely by pride cometh contention. Ch. 13.10. When I look upon the sweet behaviour and humble carriage of our great and powerful Redeemer, I cannot but wonder at the pride of those ambitious spirits that can hardly brook either Equal or Superiour. I cannot be proud if I consider what I am in my selfe, and what God hath done and suffered for me.

LV.

Learning as well as Religion is necessary in a Divine. Truth may be apprehended without [Page] much knowledge, but it cannot be taught without a large measure of understanding. A man may have faith enough for himself; and yet want power to infuse it into others. The Arts are nothing else but Reason improved; and Divinity though it transcend, does never crosse nature. Morality is a servant to Grace; and such a Queen cannot be without her attendants. Conscience and Phylosophy may well stand together; a good Pastor is well furnished with both: Without the first none will, without the second none can rightly instruct the people.

LVI.

I will ever suspect that man [Page] that makes too much haste to gaine my acquaintance. A violent affection goes away as fast as it comes; a fire of straw is easily kindled and quickly out. Love that is ripe too soon, like Summer fruit, will not hold out in the Winter of affliction. A durable friendship is built upon consideration: He that thrusts himself upon me may be presumed to want honesty or judgement: either he hath some designe upon my person, or else is not worthy of my knowledge. Religion is the best ground of a familiar society: And I shall think that he hath but little in himself, that will venture upon me, not yet informed of mine.

LVII.

[Page]

Travel to a wise man is a lesson of experience. The deepest Schollars cannot by their reading comprehend so much as others that want learning have seen and observed. A narrative information is sometimes no more then a dreame, many times a very lie; and 'tis impossible to make so good a collection of what we hear or read as of that which is clearly represented to the sight. Our Maps do but contract the understanding, which is enlarged by a full view and open contemplation of the place. There are some so wedded to their home that they will not approve of any voyage [Page] into forraigne parts. As 'tis a practice commonly taken up by young gallants meerly for fashion sake, I cannot but condemn it; but if we go with a thrifty intention to informe our selves, and have a care to the maine chance; if Gods grace and goodnesse do not leave us when we leave our Countrey. I know not any thing that can be (especially to persons of honour, and men of great birth and fortune) more convenient, lawful, and in some sort necessary.

LVIII.

War is our misery, and yet oftentimes proves necessary; an inevitable malady that turns to a benefit, as it may be the [Page] means to prevent a greater mischief, or procure an unexpected happiness. It is the best way sometimes to expell poyson by a contrary poyson, and such destructive medicines may preserve the patient, and ruine the sicknesse. When our Peace is corrupted with luxurious sinnes, it is time to launch it with a revengefull sword: and the state must be wounded to the quick to let out her putrifaction. Who would not rise from his sleep when a just cause calls him forth? when the War-like Trumpet sounds an Alarme to our drousie spirits, who is he that can willingly embrace a senseless ease? Warre is a remedy as well as a disease, though sometimes it prove a [Page] remedy worse then the disease: brings health as well as sickness; and preserves the active minde, which having no object to work upon, consumes it self: it renues the Nobility of a decayed house, and scoures off the foule aspersions of a long contracted infamy, whether false or real: it revives the natural fire that lies raked up in dust and ashes, and stirs the heart to a generous contention.

LIX.

A good Souldier is a good man; for grace and valour are never separated. He knowes that the practise of sinne is a dishonour to his Lord, and a disgrace to that service and imployment which he hath [Page] undertaken. Holiness he accounts the best prize, and thinks Religion a thing as necessary in the field as in the Church. His carriage and conversation is most eminent and conspicuous. The most exemplary patterne of vertue, and severe example of goodness. He maintains Christianity with his life, and his perfections shine brighter than his sword. He bears a just and single heart in a righteous cause. As conscience brought him to the Warre, so that shall preserve him alive or dead: nor can he proceed valiantly in any action without it. He alwayes endeavours to march like a Christian, & walks worthy of his extraordinary calling. Such he esteems it, a [Page] profession of extreame necessity, not like our mercenary Sword-men, a common trade of villany and destruction. The ten Commandments are his millitary orders: He measures Martial-Law by the decalogue; and hath skill to overcome his enemies without a breach upon that precept which forbids murder. He loves conscience better then fame; and thinks it impossible to obtain the last without the first. He carries a clear countenance in a cloudy brow; looks boldly like a lion, and as he would fright the devil and all his Host, but humbly fearful like the modest Publican at the sight of God. He is free and kinde to his friends; charitable to his worst enemies; courteous and merciful [Page] to his captives; faithful and loyal to his Prince; good and just to all. You may discern a mannerly rudenesse in his behaviour; an eloquent plainnesse in his speech, hearty sweet expressions without complement. He is full of all deserving qualities, wisdome, justice, temperance, liberality: These are all companions to fortitude his peculiar vertue. He fears not the worst mischief that can befall him, and will go on though all the powers in Hell should rise to his destruction. He is confidently assured that he can lose no more then his body. His peace is made with heaven; and the greatest dangers of outward Warre cannot disturb that happy union. He [Page] dares entertain Death in any habit, in any place, or at any time. He is provided in the field, and in his chamber: and every houre he expects his last houre. In the greatest storm of ill success he carries yet fair weather in his face. His countenance is the Almanack by which others prognosticate their hopes and expectations. If sometimes he miscarry through a light error or mistake; his pardon may be as just as merciful: nor is it fit that all former deserts should be covered in the grave of one misfortune. A foile or two will adde more strength and courage for the next engagement. Shall small offences be writ in Marble, and constant vertues in fleeting [Page] sand? shall one unlucky trespass blot out the remembrance of many victories?

LX.

Me thinks the very name of Man should perswade us to a peaceful quietnesse: but if natural Reason cannot prevaile, yet the respect we have unto Religion the profession of a Christian should work effectually. When I hear the name of Man, I am taken with delight as conceiving him the Subject of peace; but when I read the title of a Christian, my hope is confirmed beyond expectation; yet amongst Christians we finde that discord which the Heathens would have blushed to [Page] own. The Market, the Court, the Exchange, the Hall, the Church, all places are filled with contention. Such a general deluge of distraction hath overwhelmed the world, The earth is so besprinkled with the bloody Characters of ruine, that peace cannot find a place to keep her foot-steps dry. I look upon the City and there hope to finde an agreement, where all are guarded with the same Walls, and governed with the same Laws, and (as men in one ship) embarqued in the same common danger. But (oh shame!) How are all things here corrupted with strife and debate: Every house a Bethlem, a cage of madnesse, where every man in a distempered [Page] rage corrects his fellow? I saile out of this tempest to the Court as to a certaine Haven of Rest. Sure this is the Palace of peace: Here are men of wisdome and state: Here is the very heart of the people, and the eye of the Common-wealth: Here are his Vice-gerents who is the Prince of peace. The Court is the abstract of government and order; a place free from all tumultuary violence and unruly dissention; and all things promise fairly; courteous language, sweet imbraces, chearful meetings, and other offices of civility and humanity are placed within this circle. And yet (alas!) all this is not the shadow of true peace; but painted bravery, and [Page] meer hypocrisie. The true discerning spirit may behold under this mask, divided factions, secret enmity, undermining treachery. Ambition and envy, self-love, and pride, grow up in this rank ground like ill weeds that can never be rooted out notwithstanding the best endeavours of a good Prince. That which I thought the habitation of peace proves a nursery of distraction, a stage of confusion, a seminary of discord; a curious brave modell of folly and madness; where contention, scorne and contempt play their wanton revels under the disguise of Love. I will go to the Schools of the learned. Learning makes us men, Philosophy more then men, Divinity Saints. Surely amongst such [Page] I cannot misse of peace; but these have their Warre too, though lesse bloody, yet not lesse cruel. One School fights with another. In the same Academy the Orator and the Logician are together by the ears. He thinks all the Majesty of Eloquence is dilated upon the palme of his hand; And the other thinks all the strength of reason is contracted into his fist: and in this posture they enter the lists. What strange and different opinions do we finde in several Authours? and that not for the substance but ceremonies, not for the kernel but the shell of learning: a letter, a syllable, a point makes the difference: fighting and scolding, as if Religion and their souls lay at stake: [Page] and are not more angry with themselves than with others that admire them not, conceiving every man bound to attend their loud noise with fearful reverence. The height of disputation swells into a chollerick rage; and if the matter scape the daggers point, yet there are words which cut like a razor; a sharp style that will fetch blood from the very soul, and destroy a good name. Their subtill distinction serve for no other use but to divide themselves. Whether shall I go at last, there is but one harbour left, Religion. Now certainly I am not farre from my beloved Port. I see the very Emblems and colours of peace, civil garments; I hear the very sound [Page] of peace, the name of brother and sonne, terms of charity and community, sweet compellations, and peaceful salutations, willing instructions, and courteous admonitions. Yet even among these I meet with such Impostors as make all this but a glorious shew, a rare outside. There is no where so much intemperance and immoderation as in matters of judgement concerning Religion. Hence it is that we find such miserable distractions in the Christian world. The hearts of men divide as well as their faces; and 'tis hard to finde two as of equal form, so of one opinion. A self-conceited pride rules in every breast, and no man will be bound to forsake the conceits [Page] of his own brain. Difference in affection breeds division in doctrine, and variety of opinions drown the power of love and peace. I will venture once again and search amongst the Matrimonial assemblies for a paire of Turtles, an husband and a wife that will not be separated: whose love is contracted to one family, to one fortune, to one bed: who are become one nature in a twofold habit; the same person in a divided skinne, a mutual representation of one heart in two souls. Here, affection sits like a Prince attended with his Royal progeny, the most lovely object that can be represented to the sight; yet as in all other Relations, so likewise here, some difference [Page] hath crept in, which oftentimes proceeds to an absolute divorce, or else continues in a raging jealousie and mortal division. I have but one wish more: this is the last step of my desires, that I may enjoy a resting place in the breast but of one man, or feel some sense of quietnesse and tranquility in my own heart. I am denied this happinesse. The same man fights with himself. Reason warres with the affection; and passion with passion. We finde such a contradiction of humours in some men that they can turne into any forme. The minde is sometimes a Bull, sometimes a Serpent, and sometimes a flame of fire; and then the musick of the soule is quite [Page] out of tune; the Bells ring backward as in some general conflagration. Piety drives one way, Desire another. Ambition, anger, &c. a various lust divides the four quarters of this little world. This is our wilful misery. And yet we are bold to usurp the stile and title of a Christian, although we do agree in every thing from the most absolute pattern, and prime Authour of Christianity. Look upon the whole volume of his life: what can we finde written there but a doctrine of goodwill, and stedfast reconciliation? what do all his precepts and parables found of, but peace and charitable forbearance? and no wonder, for by the judgement of a Poet, [Page] peace is the best of things;Isa. 32.17 by the sentence of a Prophet, the work of righteousness; by the decree of an Apostle, 1 Cor. 13.13 the greatest vertue; for this is that charity which like a true Doctor of peace he prefers before the tongues of men and Angels, before the gift of Prophecy, above all mysteries, and all knowledge, and all faith.

LXI.

We may observe that in times of danger and destruction, good men are little regarded, and for the most part live obscurely. In this injustice of the world the goodnesse of God is most conspicuous. When [Page] the birds of prey are fluttering abroad, the careful hen calls in her chickens to the safe protection of her wings; when the street is filled with violence and tumults, the tender parent locks up the children within doores, not denying them their liberty, but thus providing for their safety and security. What greater happinesse then a quiet close retiring roome, when blood and ruine are making merry without? Can we complaine of obscurity, when scarce any open place is secure enough? How happy was the Church under ground, when in that darknesse there was light enough to see heaven? In that narrow imprisonment [Page] they were yet free from persecution.1 King. 19 18 Those seven thousand which Elijah knew not of were well known to him that preserved them. And when Elijah himself was sought for by Iezabel, where had he been if he had been every where? They that have strength enough to burn in glorious flames, may scorne to save themselves by flight; but if God afford this help to our weaknesse, we have reason to be thankful for an easie judgement, which appointed as the means of our deliverance turns into a blessing. Let me be separated from the comfortable society of my dear friends, deprived of the benefit of my owne countrey aire, exposed to [Page] misery and the contempt of strangers, alwayes forgotten, never observed, let me be an obscure dark inmate, a son of earth, an ignominious bastard in the worlds opinion, a neglected slave; I shall think this disgrace a great honour, if I may rest safely under the shadow of the Almighty.

LXII.

Although mans greatest excellency above other creatures consists in the nobility and worth of his Soul; yet there are other points of high value and concernment in the matter, forme and use, of all the parts of which the body is composed, not to be found in any other creature besides [Page] Man. Whereby we are taught, that Almighty God having prepared and built this earthly lodging for such a spiritual guest, it is therefore not to be neglected; no not after the dissolution. Our bodies are the bodies of immortal souls; whilest living not to be abused by intemperance; when dead not to be cast away with a dishonourable neglect. Our Members are the Organs of a divine Spirit, without which it cannot exercise those admirable faculties, from whence proceed all those operations of grace and vertue, which make men great and famous in the world; favourites of heaven, and glorious Saints. Our happinesse is not compleat till [Page] both meet: They that destroy and vilifie this outward fabrick, as much as in them lies endeavour a perpetual divorce and separation.

LXIII.

The heart is the spring of life, and the fountaine of all vitall spirits dispersed into every part of the body: yet notwithstanding this preheminence and dignity it cannot subsist without the coole refreshing of the lungs, or the veines proceeding from the liver, or the strings of the sinews, or the necessary support and guard of the ribs and bones; which are as so many strong Forts and Bulwarks on every side. Thus the greatest [Page] men who in regard of their power and authority have the lives of others at their command, are yet so farre from being able to maintain their own greatnesse, that without the aid and defence of inferiours they must needs fall to dust. Nothing but Almighty God is absolute of it selfe, and there is not any thing that depends not in such sort, at least of something else, as that it cannot remain long in any firm state and condition without the service of another. Who then can be so proud as to advance himself above his neighbour, in such an high conceit as not to knowe he may want the least of Gods creatures for his preservation. No man is [Page] great but by comparison; which implies so much defect that he stands in need of more then what he hath, or is, to constitute the worth or being which he enjoys.

LXIV.

The Newter is an Hermophrodite in his opinion. One of little use or benefit to his Countrey. He dares hardly professe any religion, but for the time thinkes that best which is most prevalent. We may well wonder to see the strange distractions of Church and Common-wealth; but we may wonder more that any should be so indifferent to partake of either side; such men love truth onely for their ease, [Page] and can easily dispence with conscience for a little pleasure. But they that are thus content to serve two Masters at once, shall have none but the devil to serve at last. He that will halt between two opinions can never go upright in his conversation; and we may safely conclude that that man hath little grace that hath too much Religion.

LXV.

We may finde by experience that our inward corruptions are more dangerous than outward provocations. There is no such baite as the affection Self; which many times betrayes the sweetest natures, and best dispositions to an unruly [Page] wantonnesse. Lust is a Serpent, which if once entertained windes it self into the Soul, and gnawes the Conscience while it destroys the body; till in the end it prove an inextricable misery of madness. When the memory shall recollect the secret pleasures of our wanton youth, and knows not whether to entertain them with horror or delight, but is feaver-shaken betwixt both, being kept warm with the remaining embers of desire, and benummed with the feare of hell, what a hard knot will this be to untie; what a labyrinth to get out of? what a riddle to resolve? if there were no other remedie the due condsideration of the holinesse of God were a sufficient [Page] coercion from this evil. When I contemplate the divine Nature, void of all profanesse and filthy corruption, so full of purity and absolute perfection, that will not endure the least defilement of sinne, my thoughts run round in a desperate carere, I begin to condemn my self, and almost repent that I was made a man. How is it possible to please him that can delight in nothing but a spotlesse innocence, while we bear about us this heavy burden of miserable uncleannesse. How was the wisdom of Solomon befooled that could not shut his eyes from beholding this vanity? where was the vertue of those holy Patriarchs that could not drive off such a [Page] wickednesse? what was the integrity of Davids heart that would entertain such a deceitful monster? was this the unhappinesse of their condition; and can I be free? Lord! what flesh and blood are we made of, if circumvented with the necessity of such a sinful misery? which yet by the contemplation of the infinite and celestial beauty, may be restrained, though while we dwell here in this earthly Tabernacle, we cannot procure a total suppression. How can I runne into any actual transgression of dishonesty if I believe the God of chastity cannot behold such a debauchment without offence? When therefore I feele a wanton provocation [Page] dancing in my blood, and the fire of lust begin to keep her unchast revels in this consecrated Temple, I use no other charm but thus whisper to my self,Gen. 39.9 How can I do this great evil and sinne against God.

LXVI.

Those afflictions strike deepest which bereave us of the object of our love. How many parents are unwilling to be rid of a charge by the losse of a child, desiring still to be happy in the riches of their poverty? How loath was David to part with his rebellious Sonne, loving him better then the safety of his Crown and Kingdome? There is a kind of Empire in the minde that [Page] will enjoy nothing but what it likes, and had rather want it self then her peculiar pleasure? We are so devoted to the subject of our desires, that we seem to die in the departure. The active soul cannot but appropriate her selfe to some delight, which when it failes, must needs leave behinde it the torment of a sad discontent. It will be our wisdome therefore to settle our affections upon those things which never perish, which can both satisfie in the enjoyment, and not be lost in the pursuit; which will neither weare out in the fruition, nor slip from us in our expectation. Such is God; and he that relies upon any thing without relation to him, shall be sure to loose [Page] his hould, and cannot possibly obtaine the benefit of a perpetual satisfaction.

LXVII.

Good Councel should be welcome from whomsoever it comes. The advice of a Servant is sometimes the best part of his service. An inferiour may direct though he cannot command; and he that will not receive any directions, because it proceeds, from one below him, is possessed with a scornful spirit of contradiction, which favours more of pride than wit. A pearl may be taken up though it lie in the dunghill; and 'tis madnesse to reject a benefit in a mean benefactor. Humility [Page] should instruct us that the best of us are but men, and the worst are no less. Our humanity makes us subject to error, which another may see better then our sel [...]es. We may justly presume that he that will never be advised by one under him, would not willingly submit to any above him.

LXVIII.

There are secrets that cannot well be communicated to our deare [...]t friends, nor will any reasonable man desire to know all that another knows; yet some men are of such a searching nature that they will sift every corner of the heart, and never rest satisfied [Page] till informed of that which perhaps will but trouble them when revealed. This is a mistake of those that think there is no greater obligation of friendship then a mutual participation of each others thoughts; and indeed the relation must needs be very great that depends upon such a trust. Yet there may be that in the minde which cannot be imparted without a wound to the receiver, nor extracted without violence; and such importunity doth mar the peace and content of affection. I will ever reserve in my self a power of concealment whether the matter concerne me alone or another. There are some griefes that finde ease, others that grow [Page] worse by discovery. I will give my sorrows vent if the vessell be two full; but if there be no danger of dissolution, 'tis best without meere harm to let them lie still smothered up within a silent breast, lest breaking loose they get fresh aire, and maintain a new life to encrease my affliction.

LXIX.

Good Order is the life and soule of Government. In the external frame of nature we may observe a regular disposition and uniformity of creatures. The Heavens walk in a constant course of circular motion. The Sea ebbes and flows at certain seasons. All [Page] things have their just beginning, progress and dissolution; confusion and disorder dwell no where but in Hell; and the wicked man is but an irregular limb of that Region. Disorderly tumults proceed from the Prince of darknesse, whose Kingdome is but a medly of violence and rebellion. Factious men are of the Devils kindred; still perplexed in disturbing others. One jarring string puts all the rest out of tune; one unruly companion will spoile the peace of a faire society. I shall endeavour to keep my mind within a reasonable compass; for if the least passion once usurp upon the intellectual faculties, I shall be no more able to governe my selfe then a little Infant [Page] or a mad-man to hold the reynes of a Common-wealth.

LXX.

There is a moderate use of the Creatures which exceed not the bounds of temperance; and he is most miserable that denies himself this freedom. Mirth is a jewel if beset with modesty; otherwise but a light toy to please trivial Apes and wanton Girles. Nothing doth lesse become humanity then a scurrilous and abusive wit. To laugh at the imperfections of others implies a kind of malice that must be fed and maintained with continual mischief. Charity commands a strict inquiry into our neighbours goodnesse; which [Page] by a liberall commendation must be discovered unto the world; while defects and errors are laid up in a silent grave; and may sooner be reformed by example, then confined by disgrace. If the heart be clear, the brain will not run in a muddy channel. If my thoughts be disposed to entertain some sport and mirthful solace, I will be sure not to transgresse the limits of a charitable indulgence, a chast behaviour, and a religious integrity. I will play within the lists, and not rang abroad; then I shall not need to say, I am sorry for what I have said; or follow my invention with this unprofitable complaint, Wit, whither wilt thou?

LXXI.

[Page]

Of all afflictions, poverty is none of the least: which to some is more terrible then death it self. And truely, what can more afflict a generous mind then a penurious want? yet against this and other miserable events of our various life I have a sufficient cordial from the powerful vertue of my Religion. I have learnt therefore to be thankful in the lowest condition. The course of this world is full of change, so that I am never dejected with the terror of my own wants, knowing that the next day or houre may make a prize. Our happinesse is no exhalation [Page] drawn from any earthly matter, but like the Sunne in the circle sometimes clouded never put out, continues an everlasting race of glory. Poverty is not the object of my feare, which though unexpected may finde chearfull entertainment: nor shall the tyranny of a cruel want make me sacrifice my soule in sighs and tears. Brownbread and the Gospel is the best fare said Master Bradford. However if I cannot fancy so great a happiness, I will yet keep fast my integrity. The greatest Crosse shall not force me to be dishonest. I think I should rather starve then play the parasite for a morsel of bread.

LXXII.

[Page]

Only the heart of man can make him miserable: for our afflictions depend much upon opinion; and we had rather s [...]ffer with repining than be happy with content. He that beares his necessities without murmuring may be subject to the gripes of fortune, but cannot be o'rewhelmed with misery. I can look upon the riches of other men with the same minde that I behold my own poverty, and make as great a benefit of that as some of their increase. I shall not envy the rich mans superfluity, if I can but enjoy the sweetness of my own content. I have [Page] so much joy laid up in store as will enable me to congratulate the greatest extreamity. I admire not the glorious state of wickednesse; but therein contemplate the justice of Divine Providence: for vertue is not distinguished by any sensible reward from vice. And who dares consult with the eternal wisdome; or who can compare with Omnipotence? This makes me chearful in the greatest calamity, and contemne all worldly things in respect of an honest fame.

LXXIII.

I know the separation of the body and soul in regard that nature abhors all evacuation,[Page]dis-union, and dissolution, may be said to be unnatural: yet I can apprehend this dis-junction as a necessary means to a more glorious redintegration and incorruptible union. I know that there is a mutual relation and commerce, a friendly society and interchangable conversation betwixt these two: Yet I can see an image of Divinity, a picture of heaven, an impresse of eternity, in the inward part, which cannot appear and shine forth in its true lustre, in that genuine purity and brightnesse till this dirty clay, this red earth, this body of dust be scoured off and refined for a resurrection. I know that both shall meet againe so purified, so [Page] rarified, so together glorified, as now I cannot conceive an expression to certifie my understanding, but can understand enough to strengthen and confirme my faith. I believe and know that both shall be renued with such perfection and absolute grace that there shall be no roome left fit for a temptation, for a disease: the Soul without hope, or fear, or anger, or grief; free from all tumultuary passion, and rebellious lusts: the body free from all paine, and anguish, and sicknesse; the whole man void of all necessity of sin and misery. I will not fear death that is the occasion of all this blessednesse. Life is nothing else but a progresse unto death; and death is nothing [Page] else but an entrance into life. I know it is the end of all misery, and the beginning of all happiness. Against the fear of death, and the desire of death, I do thus conclude. I wil so live that I may die happily; I will so die that I may live eternally. Lord, give me thy grace here, and I will not doubt of thy glory hereafter.

LXXIV.

Let our course of life be what it will we shall finde misery enough. Abroad, the Courts of Justice torment us as much as our own cares at home. The Countrey is a kind of oppression with continual labours; the Sea a confusion of dangers. Travel if we go [Page] out rich, is but a temptation of spoile and rapine; if poore, a provocation of scorne and contempt. Matrimony is no more then a conjunction of mutual calamities; and a single life, a solitary mischief. Children are monuments of care; and barrenness a curse of Oblivion. Youth is a tormenting fury; Age a stump of weaknesse. What is all this life of ours which we dote upon so much but a point of time, a little grain of salt, a summer flower, a fading pleasure; and yet sleep like a severe Publican and other idle diversions our officious enemies toile away above half this inconsiderable stock of nature. What is Man but an Earthen vessel, a fraile [Page] bottle, a statue of snow or wax that melts at every blaze and will admit any impression; a rotten chip, a withered leaf, a course thread spun out into Atomes. This is that animal [...], a creature for a day, that starts up like a mushrum, and vanishes like a shoure of frogges. All things under the Sunne are vanity; but he is All vanity: a circle, a whimsey, a figure, a fancy, a feather, a trifte, a nothing, a dream of a shadow, and the shadow of a dream. He is but a living carkasse, a walking Ghost: something in a trance, a monument of death. If this be our condition while we live, who would not be ambitious to die?

LXXV.

[Page]

We are but generated dust at first, and at last degenerated ashes. The soul in the body is but confined as it were to some dark prison. The grave is not so strait a lodging to the body, as the body is to the soul; for the body is not sensible of this narrow imprisonment, but the soule every day feels the iron weight of her fleshly fetters. The flesh is a burden to the soul: are we afraid of ease? we shall never finde rest and quiet till God the Lord and proprietary call for his abused talent, and repose it safe in those eternal Mansions. What a benefit is this to be deprived [Page] of that darknesse and stupidity which hindred our prospect? to be estated in an unchangable condition? to enjoy an undeterminable felicity? why should we be lesse unwilling to put off this fleshly garment than we are to undress our selves every night? why should we be loath to change this vile body for eternity? to shift this thread-bare-coat to be superinvested with immortal glory? what but some strange misbelief and infidelity can obstruct the desire of this happy dissolution? The world is full of miseries, and heaven is full of blessings; enough to excite the most dull heart to pant after this glorious change. Death in it [Page] self is nothing: are we afraid of nothing? are we frighted with a Chimaera? How shall I encounter with an Host, if I tremble at a shadow? There is nothing fearful in death if we embrace it with a good conscience. An honest man cannot die a dishonest death▪ It is reported of the Emperour Vespasian, that when he lay upon his death-bed breathing out his last, he made a sudden start, and raised himself upon his feet. Being requested to lie down again, he refused, and yeelded up his spirit with these words, Oportet imperatorem stantem mori, It behoves an Emperor to die standing; which with a little change may become the mouth of a good [Page] Christian, Oportet Christianum triumphantem mori, It behoves a Christian to die triumphing.

LXXVI.

Every day we suck in fresh aire and breath it out again. Our very Being is but an Emblem of mortality: but after death we are no more dead: then we live indeed when we cannot die. Here we die many deaths, but hereafter we shall live one everlasting eternal life. Here we are subject to many inconveniences, and much distress, there we are free from all. Who would not more willingly pass out of this world, and (if it were lawful) [Page] thrust himself out than stay behinde in a throng of woful confusions; can there be a worse Hell then is exercised on Earth? if there be any greater torment then the guilt of sin, sure it is prepared for those that remaine miserable in the judgement: What is it that doth so trouble our apprehension? Other afflictions because usual and familiar we endure well enough; by acquaintance with our misery we can arme our selvs against the violence of fortune, the fury of injustice, the raging of poverty, the cruelty of a Tyrant. Familiarity (they say) breeds contempt: now what more common then Death? what more natural? what a world is gone before [Page] us? of all sorts and degrees? Kings, Prophets, Martyrs? Philosophers, Atheists, Magicians? And what a world will follow after? Then why do we look upon this monster with such a fearful reverence? This is the publique lot of all generation and corruption. Let the manner of our death be what it will; violent, or natural; painful, or sudden, or strange; let the cause be extrinsecal, or intrinsecal; from within, or from without; death it is no more but death, and what every living thing must feele. Plants wither, Flowers fade, Beasts perish, and old men die, and young m [...]n too; 'tis but a defect of heat, an eclipse of natural light. The necessity [Page] and inevitable certainty of death well considered may advance our courage, and banish all fear. If they that delivered us into the world are themselves delivered out of it; we may easily conclude our own mortality, and say to corruption, Thou art my Father; to the morme, Job 17.14 thou art my mother and my sister. The whole Common-wealth of man is subject to this universall Law. Let unregenerate men afright themselves with this suspition: the Religious heart is brim full of joy and assured confidence in the merits and mercy of a powerful Saviour. The faithful Christian hath learnt his lesson before-hand in the practise of an honest life: He knowes [Page] death to be a liberal Science, an Art of freedome and preferment, of priviledge and immunity, of recompence, of glory and immortality. To wicked guilty soules, death is both terrible and odious: because it puts an end to their transitory joyes, and begins their everlasting grief and torment: But to the gracious heart, this furious fiend appeares in the forme of a most lovely friend. It prepares him for another world while he is going out of this. Here is advantage enough to make amends for every loss.Phil. 2.21. To die is gain. He that led captivity captive, and swallowed up death in victory, is ready with embracing armes to receive and entertaine us. This glutton [Page] that devoures all flesh, is meat for every true spirit. Through the cold jawes of death we finde entrance to eternal life. When death labours to block up all passages, it findes and makes way for us to our immortal happinesse.

LXXVII.

God and a good Christian are alwayes good company. He cannot want the accommodation of any place who enjoys the presence of him that is every where. Let me be barr'd the society of my best friends, deprived of the comfortable aire of my own countrey, not suffered to see the face of any man that affects me and my welfare; in all [Page] this deprivation of outward happinesse, I can yet behold his face who is all goodness, and comfort, and content; who instead of pleasing discourse to pass away the time, can afford me the blessed operations of his holy Spirit. As it was said of Athanasius, he fled for the Trinity, and with the Trinity; So, if I be carried to the utmost corners of the earth, or confined to a dark solitude, a narrow prison, a loathsome dungeon, in such a strict restraint I shall finde roome enough to contemplate, to enjoy, to admire, to adore three persons in one Deity; I shall have courage enough to hope for the happy enterview of Saints and Angels at the resurrection, to be one of that [Page] heavenly association which shall never be dissolved.

LXXVIII.

That mans wisdom is meere folly that reproves another in his wrath. Good counsel is then unseasonable and therefore unreasonable; but when his anger is past he will be more apt to understand his fault, and more ready to mend it. When the minde is in a calme, our advice may saile over it with ease; but in a raging tempest the best admonitions run upon a desperate rock, and their labour is but cast away. Phisicians are not wont to administer in the height of a Feavor: nor will any wise man apply [Page] physick to the soul in a distempered fit of madnesse.

LXXIX.

A Wise man is always more ready to hear then to speak. It is well observed, that Nature hath given us two ears and but one tongue: as intimating that there is more need of those then of that. This unruly instrument is oftentimes the shame of others and the owners ruine. We read of none that ever were undone by hearing, but thousands by speaking. The eare, though it may receive, cannot possibly reach any evil; but the other talkative Organ may discharge such mischief and folly as can never be recalled.

LXXX.

[Page]

I would not desire to be made a Judge betweene two friends, but endeavour all I can to reconcile them. So shall I gaine the increase of a double love, and obtaine a blessing from heaven for procuring peace. But if the controversie be decided on either side, I am sure to lose a friend, whose ill will may hurt me more then the others favour can do me good. So, though my judgement be never so upright, I am like to get little by the bargain.

LXXXI.

[Page]

Nothing doth lesse represent a sound and active resolution than anger or revenge. The Philosophers place this Passion in that part of the soul which is unreasonable, as conceiving that, the fittest habitation for so wilde a guest. It is said that the anger of Kings is great.Pro. 19.12 The Kings wrath is as the roaring of a lion. But this is no part of their greatness, except attended with Iustice. And in that sense our great Peace-maker did accept of that Motto to his standard. Est Nobilis ira Leonis. God himself whose just priviledge it is to be angry, yet is quickly pacified.Psal. 30.5 His anger endureth but [Page]a moment. And shall men that are unjust in their wrath accept of no satisfaction? will no length of time abate the strength and unruly violence of their furious spirits? The same God is as backward to entertaine a displeasure, as ready to forgive. For amongst his other attributes of mercy this is one, slow to anger. For our parts we are suddenly apprehensive, but never forgetful of the least offence. A perverse and froward disposition is quite opposite to the nature of our heavenly father. Doth he deserve the name of Man that is sensible of every wrong, and hath not will and power to strangle his passion in the birth, and at the first insurrection suppresse [Page] that chollerick matter with a careless smile? How much better is it to contemne than imitate the folly of another? If any man think to hurt me with an angry malice, shall I be his Ape to do the like? To revenge an others fury with my own is a grosse absurdity. How can I be justly angry with him when I am angry with my selfe? If I neglect an injury, the standers by will understand that I am wronged: If my chollar rise, I shall but raise a ground for my adversarie to plead a cause; so the difference will be propagated to an endless strife. Enmity encreaseth. The wound is kept bleeding till at last it prove incurable; but by a milde forbearance we [Page] may purchase the very love of our enemies. This is the best way of conquest, to overcome without blows; to conquer not only the power, but the affections and will of an adversary: What can be more honourable than for malice to obtain mercy, for cruelty compassion, for hatred friendship? The evil which we think to drive away by an indiscreet revenge will return with Usury: and thus we make a reciprocal bargaine of inveterate hatred. When both sides demand satisfaction and neither side will grant it, what can be expected but everlasting discord? what shall be the period of such a controversie? By repining at an injury we make it our own; [Page] and then it may well hurt the Authour. Who would be willing to do himself a mischief? He that loves himself cannot hate his neighbour. For my own sake I will forbear a revenge; for whatsoever hurt another may suffer thereby, I am sure to feele the smart at home. What unequal injustice is this? We can soone forget a great benefit but never lose the remembrance of a small displeasure: and when perhaps the same man had a good intention in both: and when we also have offended in a greater measure. In point of policy I will pardon him, that by my example he may be compelled to favour me. Can he expect forgivenesse from God that will not forgive [Page] his neighbour? We cannot hope for more then we are willing to part with. How can I addresse my selfe to the Throne of grace with any confidence or hope of reward, when my own prayers shall prove me a notorious liar? how can I from my heart say, Forgive us as we forgive, Mat. 6.12. when I am resolved never to forgive?

LXXXII.

Some would have this word Ira, Anger, to be derived from uro, to burn: because it burns and consumes all before it. It consumes the lodging wherein it lies, the heart; it consumes the object whither it goes; and looks death and destruction upon every thing in the way. [Page] So the Philosopher defines it, A burning (or boyling) of the blood, or an exuberancy of heat about the heart. Or you may derive our word Anger from Ango; which first sagnifies to strangle or suffocate; and then by Metaphor to torment, vex, grieve, or trouble, as well the mind as the body. And this reaches to both: it destroys the vital parts, and hinders the due operation and exercise of the intellectual faculties: it puts all out of frame and order. So the moral definition fits very well; which terms this troublesome grief [...], appetitum recontristationis, an appetite (or desire) of interchangable sorrow, of continual distraction. Others would have Ira come [Page] from Ire, to go, because the angry man goes out of himself and runnes mad: but whither he will go, or where he will stop, God knows; for the devil drives him. If he be so mad to increase the flames, let him enjoy his fiery death alone. Let him live like the Salamander, and die like the Phaenix. Oh sweet revenge! I would be loath with my load of mutual wrath to increase the Funeral Peal. It is the sweetest revenge to forget an injury. If thou be angry indeed, let not the person but his sin offend thee.Eph. 4.26 Be angry, and sin not. Be angry with sin, or else you sin in not being angry. Be angry with any thing but sin, and you cannot but sin in being angry. Be angry and [Page] sin not, be not angry and sin. Consider betimes what thou hast done or said in thy inconsiderate wrath which with too late repentance thou mayst wish were now made void. Whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of judgement, Mat. 5.22. saith our Saviour. When the blood begins to revel in your veines, give this sudden check to that rebellious motion. I am strangely affected now; but I shall be of another minde by and by. Why should I deliver that in anger which cannot be unsaid when I am pleased? why should I do that now in these mad fits which will vex me when I am well in my wits? After a showre of wrath comes a flood of grief. [Page] Cannot Religion, and Piety, and Conscience obtaine that of me at this instant which a little time will enforce.

LXXXIII.

The best way to suppresse Anger is to compose and fold up the affections that they may never ravel out, that there may be no commotion, or at least no appearance of sedition, or disturbance in the irascible faculty. Not to be angry at all is the best character, the most fit similitude, the sweetest representation of the Deity. To overcome evil with good, to asswage the malice of a wicked heart, with the goodnesse of a temperate disposition, is the perfection [Page] of Christian charity. To restrain anger is the part of a discreet man, a valiant champion; but to give way to the violence of this wild passion is farre beneath the dignity of humane nature: I am loath to wrong the sensual creatures with a comparison. When we see a man set out with this brave demeanour of his parts; a flaming eye, cheeks somewhat pale, and sometimes red, a wry mouth, foaming lips, trembling joynts, a roaring voice, a wavering and inconstant gesture; this verily is the posture and complexion of Mars himself. He that knows how to use a looking glass may thus circumscribe every limb, and in spite of his Creation make himself a Beast. Nothing [Page] can represent a man so deformed and ugly as this foule vice. The difference betwixt an inraged person and a frantick man, we finde to be no more than betwixt a short and a continual madnesse. Anger is a fit of frenzy, and that a perpetuity of rage; madnesse both: the difference is onely in the time. Both the same disease, though one more violent; or one an ague, the other a Feaver: which agree in quality: though not in the extent and power: and sometimes one succeeds the other: an Ague multiplies into a Feaver; and anger begets madness, with the succession of many supernumerary evils. To conclude: If thou finde it an hard task to appease a raging [Page] spirit, think what the Saviour of the world suffered in thy behalf. What made him lay down his beloved soul for thee an injurious and despightful enemy? with what meekness did he suffer reproach, and bonds, and stripes, and wounds; a medley of cruel torments? and to close up his stomack, a disgraceful ignominious death? why doest thou boast of thy relation to the Head, if thou wilt not maintaine an entire friendship and union in the body? If thine enemie be not worthy of pardon, then surely he is not worth thine anger. Nevertheless, he deserves more from thee, than thou canst expect from God. Thou hast felt the experience of a loving [Page] mercy, and wilt use nothing but extream severity. The least offence against the Majesty of heaven, is more than all the injuries or injustice that the world can give; yet the infinite power is willing to look over, and passe by, many sinnes and transgressions, to renew and confirme his innumerable mercies notwithstanding all affronts, expecting onely repentance and future amendment.

LXXXIV.

It is some kinde of happinesse to be under restraint. The wide world affords many mischiefs, of which we are free in a prison. A man can hardly go abroad and preserve his [Page] own innocence; such is the contagious infection of sinne, that it spreads it self into our hearts through our eyes: we can scarce behold wickedness and be safely honest. Conversation is full of danger; so that he which enjoys his liberty may want protection. Besides security, in imprisonment we have the benefit of contemplation. The soul can best enlarge her faculties when the body is a close prisoner. Then the Spirit will expatiate it selfe, when the flesh is confined to a narrow roome. The Tower and the Fleet have produced many works which shall prove their Authors famous to posterity; who perhaps if they had not bin buried thus alive, had died in obscuritie: [Page] neither their persons, or their knowledge had been ever known. The light of grace shines forth in the darkest dungeon: and we may finde the way to heaven though wanting elbow-room. This use we may make of our worst miseries, and thus be contented with our discontents.

LXXXV.

When wicked men are full of iniquity, then God makes empty the vials of his wrath; till then his own deare Saints must expect their deliverance. The Amorites are reprieved to the fourth generation; but judgement comes at last, and cannot be resisted: great provocations leave us no roome [Page] for mercy. The voice of blood cries for revenge. Fruitful sins growe into punishment. When the harvest of folly is ripe, then our heavenly Father puts in the sickle of his justice, that he may reap to himself glory out of our corruptions. Those that use Cart-ropes to draw on vanity, deserve to be lashed with a cordy whip. When head and heart, when hands and feet, are imployed in continual mischiefe, when all interests are improved, and all means used to a sinful end, what can be expected but utter confusion. A stiff-necked people must be hardly dealt with. If sin grow impudent, the judge will not be modest, or moderate in his anger. A brazen forehead may be blasted [Page] with iron lungs. When sinners never stop but at judgments, they must look to be well paid for their paines. It is fit that their wages should be answerable to their work. There is a day of Recompence wherein every man shall receive his due. All accounts must be made even: they that have done much shall obtaine more, whether of good or evil.

LXXXVI.

The greatest mercies are best observed in the depth of misery. As a black foyle to a sparkling Diamond, such are our afflictions to the goodness of God. Though nothing can give addition to his glory yet then his grace appears [Page] most graceful to us when set off by the shadow of our miseries. Continual prosperity is an oppression to the soul, whereas happinesse after suffering fills the heart with active joy. If we suffer alwayes, our pains cannot be long because life it self is short; but a good name which follows it, is everlasting. The advantage of a faire report after death will swallow up the judgements of our present time; the dark mist of our mournful condition cannot obscure the brightness of such a favour, if we have but faith enough to apprehend it. Gods mercy is more wonderful in deliverance then in preservation. Where there is more danger there is more honour. The state of Redemption is better [Page] then that of innocency. Had Adam never fallen, Christ had never risen to our justification. We that were cut off by sin and death are made lively monuments of rich compassion. This is our wonder: this is the greatnesse of his good will, when we are delivered from the very jaws of destruction, then it plainly appears that his mercy is above all his works.

LXXXVII.

The Doctrine and discipline of the Church of England is such as was first established by general Councels and Synods, and afterwards confirmed by the Lawes of the State. Unity and uniformity; necessity and order, strength and beauty, are the ingredients [Page] of our religion: and who would not love such a wholesom sweet composition. They that take a delight to broach new opinions, to introduce strange innovations, cannot wish well to the peace of our aged mother. It may be needful to repaire a breach, but 'tis neither wisdom, nor justice to pull down the frame of an ancient building, to make way for an alt [...]ation. God blesse us from such a reformation that must be advanced in the ruines of a wel-setled Government and constitution.

LXXXVIII.

The Schismatick is a creature that abhors the very name of a Counsel or a Synod. He [Page] cannot endure the weight of an obligation to any Law: for he thinks himself advanced in an higher degree of glory then weakly to submit to the tuition of an external government: He hath found out a nearer way to heaven then by following the doctrine of the Catholick Church. He makes no account of Canonical obedience, but as a quality only fit for them that weare the livery and mark of the Beast. Subordination to a Superiour power, whether civil or Ecclesiastical sounds worse with him then chains or shakels, as destructive to the liberty of Saints, and the freedom of a Christian fellowship. In brief, he is such a piece of confusion that he knows not himself [Page] what he is, and we are extreamly perplexed to think what he may be when he comes in the way of our Meditations.

LXXXIX.

A true jeere is a jest in earnest: which is worse then down-right railing. A smiling cut-throat is the most injurious villain. To turn truth into a matter of mirth is to banish all favourable compassion, which is the bond of society and friendship. An abusive wit is but a sweet poyson, which though for the present it affect the taste, yet afterwards it infects the heart. A generous spirit scorns to solace himself with the disgrace of another. [Page] I will not triumph in the wounds of an enemy, nor insult upon the weaknesse of a friend. For the common frailty of our nature is such, that we may condemn our selves when we laugh at others.

XC.

He is neither wise nor good that will take any advantage of another by way of insultation. Revenge may make a Giant of a dwarfe; and no man can be so miserable but one time or other he may have happinesse enough to require an injury. Every little Bee hath his sting; and the least of creatures hath malice enough to right it self. Despair will put life into [Page] a very coward; and he that will suffer much will not suffer always. A fury that proceeds from disdain will ruine him that caused it. We may neglect an enemy with safety and honour; but to contemne him is both dangerous and damnable.

XCI.

Nothing puts a man so much out of tune as discontent. A little mudd will defile a whole cistern of fair water. A fretting spleen like a mist that puts out heavens eye obscures the soul with cloudy fumes, and makes the minde so intent upon her misery that she never seeks for a redresse. Society cannot cure this disease; for it disturbs all conversation. [Page] A froward man offends all, and all offend him. But those discontents are most irksome which may not be revealed: for then the heart withers and consumes without hope of comfort. Good Counsel is restorative; the want of which drives men into a desperate ruine. Sorrow smothered up murders the patient, and like an undermining Pioner digs for destruction.

XCII.

Too much freeness will make any man poore and miserable. An excessive bounty concludes in a loathsome defect. Mischief ever follows him that hath overmuch goodnesse. Necessity makes them vile [Page] whom fortune made liberal, and liberality made wretched. Prodigality must have fuel to maintain it: hence those that give most, covet most. A treasure strangely wasted must be supplied by extraordinary means; yet what pity is it that a Noble-nature should be forced to commit unworthy Acts? How have the best dispositions been thus violated by an extravagant sweetnesse? Many men had held out better if they had not gone so fast at first. A sober pace never tires. Put a horse to his full speed in the beginning and he will faile before the journeys end: but a gentle rider prevents both the danger of stumbling, and the trouble of tyring.

XCIII.

[Page]

Conceit will make any thing unpleasant; we are built much upon opinion, which yet is but a sandy foundation. One man is all for mirth and musick, company and revels; another findes more pleasure in a retired privacy. Spending is a recreation to some, gain to others. In all this variety of humours, the imagination breeds content and delight. Our own thoughts are the mould in which we cast the model of our happinesse. Our affections are minted by the inclination of the heart, and every passion beares the stamp of a conceited belief. But how miserable is our greatest glory that hath no other [Page] consideration to make it valuable but our own perswasion? He that relies upon such a credit for his welfare may quickly drive himself into a fooles Paradice. But fancy of prosperity is adversity indeed; and to have no assurance of heaven but by a dream is to fall head-long into hell.

XCIV.

Nothing is so full of change and alteration as man. Proteus never knew so many various shapes. Our Passions turn us round in a perpetual circle of vicissitude. Love sometimes whirles about to an extremity of hatred. Many have killed those for whom they have [Page] been willing to die. What a slender thread holds together the patron and his favourite; and how small a matter can undo or break this union? How hardly are some men pleased in their Dyet, being constant in nothing but variety, and yet not satisfied! Our Recreations do discover a giddinesse, and our most solemn actions speak something of mutability. Our apparel is the very emblem of inconstancy. A plain suit to day; rich robes to morrow. This is the imperfection of humanity. The weaknesse of our nature bewrays it self in an unsteadfast motion. Other things alter not but according to their object. Constancy is a noble vertue; [Page] yet where vice is predominant it is no more then wilful folly. The way to perfection is to change for the better. Therefore a firme resolution without discretion is most dangerous. His condition is desperate that will not be perswaded to leave his sins.

XCV.

There is no temptation or adversity which hath not a peculiar and proper medicine from some part of our Saviours cross. When the winde of Ambition swells the sailes of my affection, I will think how the head of the Church was dejected in this exaltation: what reproach and scorne he endured from those that were not [Page] worthy to behold him: He that was Supream judge of all, would be content to undergo the death of a malefactor. When the sting of Envy plucks my heart, I will remember how sweetly and ingeniously he gave up himself in our behalf; what a favourable friend he was to his worst enemies. When I am solicited by Intemperance, how he was pleased with gall and vinegar, besides a full cup of his Fathers wrath. When tempted with some dishonest pleasure, how his whole life was void of all delight, what were the pains of his tormenting Agony and cruel passion. If I am moved with anger, how like the quiet Lamb he never opened his mouth but for a prayer or blessing. [Page] Who can be angry with his neighbour, when he hears him pray for his enemies?Luk. 23.34. Father forgive them for they know not what they do. If poverty afflict my soul, or a covetous desire incline my heart to an unlawful gaine, then I will consider how the Lord himself, the Lord of the whole universe was content to be borne in a Stable, and die in the Field: a manger for his cradle, and for his death-bed the cross. In this manner I can please my self, and finde extraordinary comfort in the greatest Affliction of body or minde. I can boast of my infirmities, rejoyce in my adversity; be proud of my unhappiness, and blesse God that I am counted worthy to follow the footsteps of my [Page] dear Redeemer: and thankfully imbrace all the miseries both of life and death.

XCVI.

The entertainment of any sin whatsoever may work our final overthrow. That enemy is most dangerous which is least regarded: and many men are thus soothed to destruction. They flatter themselves in some little transgresgression, yet beare a profest hatred to every grand impiety. Every man will professe an absolute enmity with those apparant vices, as these, Rapine, Murder, Adultery, Incest, and the like: but simple fornication is but a moderate use of pleasure, an harmlesse trick of [Page] youth, an easie escape, a sweet Trespass. Who can claim a propriety in goodness or vertue, that doth thus delight himself with a spotless innocence? The Gnat a small creature flying into the eye of a Caldean Lion, which are of a clear wit, tender composition, so torments that fierce and mighty Prince of Beasts with his little sting, that he is forced by the extreamity of paine with his own claws to deprive himself of sight and life: Thus the least offence is sometimes great enough to drive the purest conscience of the strongest Christian into a wound and mortal despaire.

XCVII.

That man is a Prince indeed [Page] that knows how to command his tongue. Silence will prevent a mischief, which too much talk will induce and aggravate. A discourtesie may be smothered up and hush'd by a temperate forbearance of words; but we seldom see blowes given without a volloy of ill language. Superfluity of speech like water sprinkled upon coales doth raise the fire of contention, which otherwise would go out of it self. Thus thinking to extinguish we inflame discord, and our breath becomes the bellows to a fiery fewd. Thus when we endeavour to coole, we increase the heate: and the mouth while it labours to blow out the sparks, stirres up the fuel of [Page] indignation till it flame about our eares. It is well said, that we hold our peace when we say nothing; for all war proceeds from the jarring discord of an ill-tun'd voice. A long oration many times concludes in sorrow; and though it may be for our disadvantage to be silent, yet properly we cannot repent of what was never uttered. He that speaks much seldome speaks truth; which being plain or naked needes not the trim or habit of a large discourse: and he that lies often will at last discover himself by a contradiction. Whoever therefore would be wise or honest let him say little: for he that talks without compasse can never mean fairly, nor handsomly deceive. An [Page] everlasting Speaker is a troublesom fool that will still be saying something, because he understands nothing; and if sometimes he hit upon the right, he is more beholding to his mistrisse Fortune, then his own good skill or knowledge.

XCVIII.

An industrious diligence never makes too much haste. Things of wonder are not accomplished without long and serious consideration. We cannot catch at vertue with a leap; her Throne is fixt upon a rock, whither 'tis impossible to ascend but by degrees. Blessings may fall into our mouths, but like the raine or dew by drops; and he that greedily gapes [Page] for a flood may be choaked with an inundation of curses. The way to heaven is up-hill; and he that would get thither by running, may tyre before he can come to the top of the mountain. God himself spent six days in creating the world; and do we think to obtaine everlasting happinesse in a moment? How many men have been undone in an eager pursuit of wealth and honour, while others by a sober thirst have sped better. It becomes every man to have some employment; but he that is too quick and over-hasty in a businesse seems to be weary of it before it be well begun, and will never stay to see it happily ended. He that makes light of the burden wil hardly arrive [Page] at the profit of an action.

XCIX.

As true it is as Truth it self, that the true servants of God shall never want. The Heavens shall rain down Manna, the hard rock shall melt into water, varieties shall come flying upon the wings of the winde. We read of a dry cruse, that became a fountain of oyle, the Lions jaws that afforded honey, the devouring Ravens that could spare meat, the fish with money in his mouth. All creatures contribute to the relief of those that abound in gr [...]ce. In the barren wildernesse David was satisfied with marrow and fatnesse. Our Infant Saviour is safe in [Page] Egypt, a Nation ever hated of of the Iewes. St. Chrysostome found friends in Armenia, where he could expect nothing but famine and death. Great Athanasius lived six years in a Cystern, and foure moneths in his fathers Tomb. The Divine Providence can preserve those that are appointed to die. His hand is never too short to confer protection and salvation. Thus indeed the Protestants have a God for all purposes; one that never failes to provide for those that trust in him. Conceive the worst, and we can be but beaten out of Gods ground into heaven; where our immortal souls shall be free from all farther trouble, persecution, and distresse.

C.

[Page]

It is reported of Pliny the Elder, that while he was overcurious in searching out the cause of the continual burning of mount Aetna, the smoke that ensued from thence at last choaked him. Thus some men are overwhelmed with their own curiosity. To seek for a signe of Gods visible proceedings in his unrevealed decrees, is both vaine and dangerous. Why should I endeavour to know that which is impossible to be known? To comprehend that which is above the reach of humanity? If I acknowledge a Deity I cannot deny him those secrets of State which constitute his [Page] essential power. Even earthly Kings have their secret resolves; and shall the King of heaven lie open to any mortal eye? God is a consuming fire. Heb. 12.29. He that comes too near to inform himself of his Nature and essence may be suffocated with the smoaky blasts of his fiery indignation. I will admire him in all his works but inquire the meaning of none, no farther then he is graciously pleased to render an account of his Actions in his holy word. His Publick declarations are full of satisfaction, and he that seekes for other Reasons then are there set down is most unreasonable. All conceptions of the minde are either Relative, Negative, or Absolute, By the first we understand God no otherwise [Page] then he stands in relation to our selves, as a Father, a Governour, a Creator, or the like, which cannot positively express his Nature. By the Second as when we say, he is not Mortall, not Materiall, not Finite, we understand not what he is, but what he is not. By the Third, we cannot apprehend him at all. If such a conception should be granted, it must be such as whereby we shal be able to comprehend all those real Attributes which formerly and properly belong to his divinity; which no naturall understanding can imbrace any otherwise then by reflection in the Creatures. Lord, if it be so hard to understand what thou art by the Strength of Reason, how vaine is their [Page] wisdome that would prove there is no God at all, and because they cannot know thy essential truth will disclaim all belief in thy power and existence.

FINIS.

Information about this book

Title statement

Meditations divine & morall by H.T. ...

Tubbe, Henry, 1617 or 18-1655.

Edition statement

1659

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Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

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Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-07 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A63822

ID [STC]

Wing T3208

ID [STC]

ESTC R3392

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

11790062

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ocm 11790062

ID [VID]

49164

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A63822)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 49164)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 554:14)

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— Meditations divine & morall by H.T. ..., Tubbe, Henry, 1617 or 18-1655..

Extent

[2], 189 p.

Printed for Robert Gibbs ...,. London :: 1659.. (Attributed to Henry Tubbe. Cf. BM.) (Reproduction of original in Union Theological Seminary Library.)

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