On Sundayes, Holy dayes, and Fasting dayes.

HEE whose mind re­maines in the pow­er of Reason, and Religion, orders his out­ward observances so, that they may be the transitorie Hieroglyphicks of his in­ward pietie. They are un­mannerly Devotions, which neglect the Injunctions of [Page 2] the Church, concerning the time, place, and manner of them: since every action is invested with such circum­stances, and hath such for­malities annext to them, the gravitie and solemnitie of enjoyned Ceremonie will suite better with regular zeales, than the garbes and formes privat fancies would put on them.

Thy holy Word, O Lord, is the Sunne, which by cast­ing its beames on the fi­gures and distinctions of the Churches Dyall, points out and orders to us the times of our lives.

Some Religions weare onely the finer Liverie of [Page 3] Sundayes, others love to ap­peare attended with the sad­der traine of Fasting dayes. When I consult with the Church, I finde both enjoy­ned; and when I advise with my owne nature, I find them suited to the two principall affections in man, Joy, and Griefe: Let not my service of thee, O Lord, be mis­shapen in its parts; but what I doe to please thee, let it be guided by thee.

There is such a confede­racie betweene the soule and the body, they doe so mu­tually operate one upon an­other, that even those re­straints put upon our appe­tites, quicken and make [Page 4] active the motions of the soule: for when the body its organ is distempered, it re­torts and shoots backward its indispositions to the minde; (our thoughts some­times condensed into the corporeall delights of the sense; sometimes rarified into the pure abstracted pleasures of the spirit.)

And since bodily absti­nence aides and contributes aptitude to the mind, for di­viner receptions; let me follow the wisdome of thy methods, Lord, who by the Churches directions, of their Fasts to precede our Festivals, teacheth us, humi­litie goes before glory, re­pentance [Page 5] and mortification before true joy.

But now, alas! the outward and materiall Temples are made to mourn in their own ashes, while the living ones rejoyce over the ruines of Sion. The loosenesses and indul­gences of this Age, rather beares a proportion with the Religion of the Otto­mans, than exhibits Sacrifi­ces pleasing to the most Holy One. They cashiering all strict observances, as fet­ters and bonds to their more free Genius, are mis-led by their owne evill spirits in a wildernesse of Opinions.

The observing these sig­nall dayes, turnes our devo­tions [Page 6] into the knowne and vulgar Character, which the world by our practise (as it were) may reade. Our me­morie charges the Times with good or bad events happening in them; not but those good or ill qualities adhere to the things done in those Times, (Time being onely the measure of moti­on) upon whose skore wee retaine the remembrance of what things pleasing, or dis­pleasing, have befallen us.

To quarrell at the obser­vation of Times, is to quar­rell at the holy and devout Exercises at such times usu­ally performed; whence wee see so easie a slide in many, [Page 7] from the contempt of the time, to neglect the humble and pious practises of the other: To take away the set Dayes, set Prayers, and set Patrimonie of the Church, is to make the Church con­temptible, their lives disso­lute, and their devotions prophane.

The Magnificats of hearts, divinely in love, and the heavenly wealth of an open-handed Charitie, makes these dayes prospect so glo­rious; and in this respect, they are inlightned with no vulgar Ray, nor doth the Sunne shine with any com­mon beames.

The Heathens marked [Page 8] their fortunate dayes with white, or precious stones; but wee must observe these with white and spotlesse a­ctions, by which they will prove so to us: Our misera­ble Times we becloud either over againe with our griefes, and distrusts, or else adde to them the feathers of vanitie, to make them more insen­sibly flye away; (the two excesses of our life) too jo­cular Vanities, or too sad Dejections.

But from the heights of these dayes, doe our soules take their Aethereall flights, and range them­selves in the Quires of An­gels, while they beare part [Page 9] with them, in their Allelu­jahs.

Lord grant, that by the continued practise of these Heavenly Attempts, the chayne of my mortalitie being broke, I may get wing, and flye to thee; and that constantly reach­ing my hands to thee from these dayes, which are the upper steps of the Ladder of my Life, next to Hea­ven, thou mayest at last reach forth thy hand, and receive me.

Morning Thoughts.

DArkenesse no sooner gives way to the ap­proach of the Sunne, but the whole Theatre of Na­ture seemes to smile; the Clouds put on their seve­rall-coloured Habits; the Musicall inhabitants of the Groves warble forth the Aire in varied and delight­full tones of harmonie; the Flowers draw forth their severall flames and beauties, offering sweet incense from their fragrant bosomes; all mists and fogges breake up and vanish; and that which before dissembled so bright [Page 11] a lustre, hath lost it in the light of the Sunne. And now my senses loosned from the soft chaines of sleepe, enjoy the prospect of the glory of the Heavens, the pleasant view of the Woods, Fields, Rivers: but as there be Groves, and Caves, where the Sunne hath not accesse; so my Body is that Cave, where, without the beame of Reason, to discerne the causes and effects of those works I externally behold, it is still in darknesse; nay, I shall still continue so, if with the reflext beame of Reason I looke not into my selfe, and see what habits and affections my Soule [Page 12] weares, and what belongs to me, in respect of duties and severall relations without: nay, I am still in darknesse, if I behold not with the eye of Faith the Sonne of Righ­teousnesse arising (as it were) out of the immense Ocean of his Goodnesse and Mer­cie, darting into my Soule the glorious rayes of his Truth and Goodnesse; then doth my little World re­joyce, and my flesh rejoyces in the living Lord; then are all my affections, the Birds in my little Grove, tuned with his prayse; then doth each thought weare a seve­rall Liverie of its Makers prayse, put on from the [Page 13] contemplation of his seve­rall workes; then are all the false splendors of Vanitie obscured, the mists and fogges of Passion breake up and vanish; then doe the flowers of Vertue salute him with that lustre and odour he himselfe bestowed on them; some yeelding their sweets at a distance, as the tender Vertues of Mer­cie, Compassion, Liberali­tie; others impart not their fragrancie, till bruised and crushed, as the Vertues of Patience, and Constancie: And now, Lord, my impri­son'd Soule beholds thy beames, through the chinks as it were of thy Creatures; [Page 14] but a full vision of thy pre­sence is reserved for the state of Glory.

Let my mind so feed on thy Workes, that they be disgested into thy prayse; and let me looke out so con­stantly through these Cra­nies, at the rayes of thy Goodnesse, Wisdome, and Power, that at last my spark may be swallowed up in the immensitie of thy light.

Evening Thoughts.

HEavens sable Curtaines being dtawn, Darknesse makes all things alike: the feather'd Musicians of the [Page 15] Wood repose their aeriall spirits amidst the leavie Groves; a silent horror seemes to possesse all places, while those Silver-footed Nymphs, that by so many windings arrive at the wa­trie armes of Neptune, send forth their pleasant mur­mures louder, not drowned with greater noyse: if the Sunne hath set in a Cloud, it hath presaged stormes to the ensuing day.

I finde a resemblance in my lesser World, of Nights Liverie, when I winke the World into Darknesse; by which, all beauties lose their distinctions; all lye lovingly together in the bosome of [Page 16] sleepe, and agree in their o­bedience to these soft in­junctions, and delightfull commands of Nature. Here the Miser is pleasantly robd of his store, and the misera­ble man of his sense of being poore. The ambitious man leaves to court Greatnesse, and is content with the or­dinarie favours of Morpheus: the Lover layes aside the sweet tortures of his A­mours, and solaces himselfe only in the duskie imbraces of sleepe: the Souldier, in making his passage to the gates of vocall Fame, ceases to invite Death, and is here content with its image.

Now doe our senses, which [Page 17] are the Birds that make the Musick in mans little Grove, shrowd themselves under the downie wings of sleepe. Thus doth Death e­qualize all things onely for a longer time; in its habi­tations a quiet horror seems to dwell, where all lye lo­vingly in the bosome of their Mother Earth, silently crept under the soft Cove­rings of Ashes; where our divided parts revell in their loosened motions, which had before beene crowded together in our sickly com­posures. I lye merrily down in my Bed, though I expect to rise againe, to resume the burthen of all my feares, [Page 18] hopes, and griefes, the con­stant attendants of my life; and yet looke sadly and mournfully upon the Grave, my corruption belonging to the maintaining of the or­der of the Universe; where, at my next rising, much gayer clad then before, I shall awake to immortalitie and endlesse joy: with the eye of Reason I can looke through the glory of the world, and behold Vanitie, and Oblivion; with the eye of Faith I can look through Oblivion and Corruption it selfe, and behold Glory and Eternitie. Now I finde, how many things doe not (that are esteemed in popu­lar [Page 19] judgements to) make one happy; how little they con­tribute towards it, to me alone, till I be mixt with those people, and take pleasure in those Opini­ons.

We entertaine with true and reall passions the Sce­nicall compositions of the Stage; there being in mans life Playes, not acted, but li­ved; solemne fictions, not feigned, but beleeved. Men now acknowledge their own Natures, whom Precept had taught to regulate them­selves all day, and familiarly owne the impressions Na­ture hath charactered on them.

Now doth the ever-run­ning streames of Gods fa­vours, which run over our hard and stonie hearts, speak louder to us, not drowned with the noyse of worldly thoughts. If the Sunne hath gone downe in the clouds of our envie and malice, it presages future stormes of passions to our life.

And now, Lord, I will seeke him in my Bed, whom my Soule loves: Let me finde thee, in the rest thou givest my Soule from Sinne and Vanity, in the sleep thou givest my affections, they being all quietly reposed in thee; and thus I rest on thee, more than on where I lye.

The Arraignment of the Heart.

I Thought I had so well surveyed this little piece of Earth, that I had knowne every turning and winding in it: but, since I had a holy purpose betray'd to some easie temptation, I suspected that there was something yet undiscove­red. Whereupon, calling my Travell, Studie, and Ob­servation thither, I found a strange Labyrinth, which the thred of my Reason was too short to unwinde me out of; I found it so in­circled with the Serpentine [Page 22] windings of Sinne, so in­compassed with those flexu­ous imbraces, that I per­ceived Vanitie entring un­der the conduct of its adver­sarie, apt to glory in the contempt of Glory, and grow proud in the lowest debasing my selfe: and upon demand of Reason for any good, it would informe me, That it owed its originall to some secret passion, which would untitle it againe.

There is nothing but darkenesse, and wandrings, here; so that I perceive, O Lord, I was more secure than safe, since I lodged here such deceitfull guests, that answered at the light knock [Page 23] of every idle passion. I de­sired to have discovered my heart to thee, but found it first necessarie, that thou shouldst discover it to me; where was such a wildernesse of Passions, such rocks of Pride, such Maeanders of De­ceits, and perplext paths of contradictorie motions, that it mockt my past endevours, and taught me to know, that other things might be in the light to me, yet I in dark­nesse to my selfe. And since thy sacred Spirit hath dicta­ted to me, that it is despe­rately wicked and inscruta­ble, I arraigne it before thy Throne, as that corrupt Fountaine, whence hath [Page 24] flowed those bitter streames of Vanitie, which hath over­flowed my life; and here, where my naturall life first begins, my spirituall death first arises. I begge of thee, my God, another Creation, first, of a cleane heart; and that then thy sacred Spirit would move upon the face of these waters, and forme this Chaos into that beau­tie, and order, where thou wouldst have thy own Pow­er and Wisdome manifest­ed: breathe forth thy hea­venly Light into my Soule, and to the considerations of my heart, cause a distincti­on betweene the Night of Sinne, to be feared; and the [Page 25] Light of Truth, to be desi­red; make a separation in me, betwixt heavenly and earthly thoughts; let the other be superior and pre­dominant over these; dis­pose all here into forme and fruitfulnesse; plant the flowers of vertue, which be­ing fed with the Manna-drops of thy Grace, they may communicate their gratefull properties of co­lour and odour to others: Cause the Lights thou hast set in my little World, to shine clearer, that every of them may have their seve­rall and proper influences upon the course of my life: When the Sunne of thy [Page 26] Word shines out, let all other Lights be obscured; however, let that thy other Light of Reason rule the darker part of my life; let the lesser Lights of Opini­on (whose motions, though they be erratique, yet doe operate upon our actions) keepe such place and di­stance, that they hinder not the generall harmonie of the Fabrick. That part which denominates my Species, make new in me; that part formed after thy owne I­mage; and give it com­mand over the beasts of the field, that Reason may sub­due the wildnesse of my af­fections. And now, Lord, [Page 27] let all the motions of this Piece turne upon the poles of thy Commands; let it be centred in the obedience to thy will, that there it may finde a constant Sab­bath, and Rest. This is the regeneration of this lesser World; element it, Lord, with the fire of thy heaven­ly love, surround it with the holy breathings of thy bles­sed Spirit: Let constancie and solid fixnesse be in my wayes, let the current of all my thoughts emptie them­selves into the Ocean of the infinitie of thy goodnesse and glory: And yet, Lord, this World could not stand a moment, if thou didst not [Page 28] behold it through thy Son. Its the desire of my heart to entertaine thee: as thou art the author of that desire, be thou also the granter of it. I know, a heart being fill'd with any thing, denyes ac­cesse to another; I am full of my selfe, grant me to de­nie my selfe, to be emptied of my selfe: for here it is, that the pleasures and trifles of the World hold intelli­gence, and correspondence, in themselves not so forci­ble, but as they flatter my understanding, or affection, with apt pretences.

When Perseus in his Ex­pedition was to kill the Ser­pent, he had a Looking-Glasse [Page 29] given him, wherein he was to behold the Ser­pent, as he should strike at him, and not to looke upon it selfe; and we shall kill the Serpents of outward temp­tations, if we looke at their figures, presented in the Glasse of our thoughts, and there destroy them in their images, received in our hearts.

Lord, doe thou possesse my heart, that it may pos­sesse thee; that it may re­ceive thee, receive it; thou art within all things, not included: let me finde thy infinite Power, in the exten­sion of thy Mercie, and not in thy Justice; let me put [Page 30] off my selfe: my selfe, is my wayes, my customes, affecti­ons; thy promise is, for protecting us in thy wayes. When I seeke to have my own image represented back again to me more beautifull from the Glasse of popular Opinions, courting Fame, or Applause; when I for feare or flatterie neglect to doe my dutie to thee my God, or man, then am I in my owne wayes, seeking Death in the errors of my life. I give thee, Lord, that one syllable thou desirest, my (heart;) begging the exchange of another for it (Love:) But because I am a very bubble, which how­soever [Page 31] it be blowne into some curious-coloured He­misphere, by some good inspirations, yet the least ruffling winde from abroad makes evaporate: And though I be wound up to some holy resolutions by the finger of thy Spirit, yet without thy constant as­sistance, I should relapse, and fall into loosenesse and dejectednesse; therefore I begge of thee my Heart againe, that thou wouldest before the conveyance of it passe, give it me under the custodie of thy Grace, sealed up by thy blessed Spirit, that no sinfull Passion with­in, nor outward Glory, nor [Page 32] Beautie, the solliciters of Vanitie, doe ever breake it up.

Deceit doth debase our Nature, and false Policie destroy Governments.

MAn, that Noble Coyne, which bears the Image of the King of Heaven, is so debased with the alloy of his owne imaginations, that it will not passe. Lord, thou art one undivided simple essence, and requirest Truth in the inward parts, and spirits, wherein there is no guile: Wherefore thou hast taught us, that under the forme of Children, wee ob­taine [Page 33] the Kingdome of Hea­ven; by the revocation of which innocent and con­temptible part of our lives, the value is brought downe of all those false Wares men have fraughted their mindes with, in the voyage of this life; those false O­pinions, deluded Affections, which doe create to men their joyes and feares. Wee shall finde, Deceit hath underminded all the little structures of Delight men have builded out of Fancie, while Opinions are enter­tained in the Soule, which beare not the lawfull im­pression of Truth, but the counterfeit stampe of their [Page 34] owne affection. Truth is the onely firme Basis of mans content and happinesse, the images of the things them­selves, as they be in their owne natures, received as it were into the Glasse of the mind; settle there that which we call Truth, when there is a conformitie betwixt the things and our minds: but when man vitiates and di­storts his mind with wrong and erronious apprehensi­ons of those things, then are our mindes a Magick Glasse, which shewes us the images of things that are not. Thus are mens griefes Panique, and their joyes personate.

Those teares of Alexander were as ridiculous, which the report of another part of the World yet uncon­quered, drew from him, as of that poore woman, whom the Philosopher saw weep­ing for her Pitcher she had broke.

Man mingling his decei­ved conceptions with the things themselves, frights himselfe with that Vizard hee himselfe bestowes on things, which in themselves are naturall, orderly, and necessarie. Waters that at the Fountaine head are pure and sweetly tasted, in their subterraneous passage beget new and foraine tasts. What [Page 36] a Maze doth humane nature tread in? How many are the Cozenages of his affecti­ons? Man, as it were in the Tyring-roome of his fancie, bestowes his severall Dresses and Attires on things, which he on the Stage of the world really counts for such as he hath cloathed them for. Thus are all things made to beare the Liverie of his imaginations, and are ac­cepted back againe into the affections, according to the richnesse of the habits hee made them fine with.

Folly, saith Erasmus, heares it selfe ill spoke of even amongst the most foolish: and many would entertaine [Page 37] with laughter the storie of that foole, who leapt and danced, because he thought all the ships that came into the harbour were his owne; when perhaps no lesse Co­micall would their owne Mirths prove, which are drawne (perhaps) from the esteeme of some things, which serve to make a great part of their lives seeme pleasant to them, which ha­ving their worth viewed in the light of Reason, would be found not sufficient to yeeld such a warmth and influence, to warme or re­create their deluded affecti­ons at. Some are overflowed with a deluge of teares, for [Page 38] that, which to another hath no such ugly Character stampt on it. Opinion is sufficient to move passion, and Opinion many times rises from the bare shewes of things; and yet the im­pressions are no lesse violent and strong which Opinion retorts on us, then what comes from things in them­selves ill. Beautie is a glo­rious Ray, which might rayse our thoughts to the Creator of Lights, who is Beautie it selfe; and wherein the Minde might take as much content, with due re­flections on the Giver, as in any other sparks of that om­nipotent brightnesse com­municated [Page 39] to the Creature. Honour is that badge, wher­by they will honour Vertue: Wealth is a banke against the flowings in of the ne­cessities of this life. Yet all these befoole our loves, and cheat our affections; they not being brought in by the trials and examinations of Reason, but by the secret motions and recommenda­tions of Passion: for Beau­tie, by the Hyperbole and excesse of my thoughts, is made another thing to me than it is; being onely those clouds whither the Sunne of mens wit send their beames to gild.

Thus, when wee would [Page 40] immortalize the objects of our Earth-borne wishes, or make Earthly Beauties Di­vine; then, by this dispro­portion are our unsatisfied affections betrayed to Re­pentance, being it must be recalled from the height and rate it had carryed the thing too: or if one, in stead of true Vertue and Merit, fall in love with vul­gar Breath, and Court that Eccho, being as much taken with those ayrie reverbera­tions, as Narcissus was with the watrie reflection, seek­ing for that rich Ore of happinesse in other mens soules, which he would have coyned into respect and ob­servances [Page 41] of him; what doth he, but (as Solomon sayth) possesse the winde? Or if one admire too much that Idoll of vulgar mindes, Wealth, thinking the feli­citie of it consists in the abundance; when as that Divine Aphorisme delivers, More than what is necessa­rie, the owner hath but to behold it with his eyes. Men augment their joyes from the greatnesse of their wealth, as they doe their feares from the greatnesse of the appearance of his dan­ger. All the Ocean strikes a terror in the minde of him like to be drowned, when lesse than a Tun would serve [Page 42] the turne. Or if the whole Ayre, that incompasseth the Globe, were infected, one should adde the considerati­on of the vastnesse of that, to encrease his sorrow, whereas he could suck in no more than what conferr'd to his owne mortalitie. Oh, that my wayes were directed with a Line, the Line of thy Word! there being no other Guide out of this intricacie and perplexednesse of our owne natures.

Man was, from the hand of the most glorious Work­man, set on the solid Basis of integritie and justice, and is now crumbled away into tri­fles, minute-deceits, which [Page 43] hath weakened the soliditie of this best piece of the Creation. Truth is that no­ble prey mans Soule is in the inquest after; and to have it, in stead of realities, stored onely with maskes and outward formes, it dis­honours our natures, makes them unhappie and misera­ble.

The moralitie of the Hea­then, puts out of counte­nance the late Religions of our time: How generous, and how becomming a wor­thy minde, was the advice of that Orator to his friend Atticus, then Governour of a Province? Whom in­structing first with the qua­lities [Page 44] and natures of the men he had to deale with, their dispositions, their ends, how farre he might trust some, how farre make use of o­thers; then disswades him from Anger, there being nothing more ugly, than to adde bitternesse and sharp­nesse of Furie to Power and Command. Afterward, that he be sure, that in all his carriage he should let the Native see, through his con­stant readinesse to aid them, and to doe justice, he placed his glory in their securitie; and lookt upon their pros­peritie, as the fruits of his prudence, and his good con­duct of their affaires: then, [Page 45] saith he, will they obey you, with the resignation of their wills, as to a father. At last he concludes, that he should be sure to let integritie, and justice, and wisdome, be the foundation of his honour and greatnesse; haec sint fun­damenta dignitatis tuae: But now, in stead of thoughts inlarged to take care of the publique, their Purses are onely to take Money in pri­vate. Shall they be able, by the faint rayes of Nature, to copie fairer peeces of Ver­tue, and truer Glory, than this Age, by the advanta­ges of their supernaturall Lights, can afford any ex­amples of? Who doth not [Page 46] looke upon, with grave re­spect, these Reliques, these yet standing Pieces, not winde; which shewes, how magnificent a structure man was? Who can but honour the gallantry of the manners of the old Romans? Who being called to defend their Countrey, command their Armies, either to oppose forraine enemies, or appease domestique insurrections; they desired onely, that they might have, during their ab­sence from home, occasioned by the Warres, their Plowes and Stocks preserved, and that they might returne to the pleasures and contents of their former Countrey [Page 47] lives, indemnified in their estates, having discharged their obligation to the pub­lique.

But how different are the endeavours of men in this age? they being all imploy­ed, not as in the champion region of the Common­wealth, but in the inclosures of their owne particular re­spects. Frugalitie is that Vertue which stands be­tweene unpleasing Taxes, and Gabels, and the peoples hate. Justice is like the Sunne in the Spheare of Government, it gives life and light to all: Prudence exercise, a Vertue different from the other, not contrary.

The civill Forts, and Strengths of Kingdomes, are politique Axiomes of Conservation, drawne out of the bowels of Reason, and Experience; which to neglect, were to let goe to ruine those bankes which hindred the invasion of a sea of publique calamitie. Thus is that golden Scep­ter, to which every one did bow, while it was supported with Justice and Prudence, broke into a numberlesse companie of inferiour Po­licies; in stead of those great Luminaries, every one goes about with the dim Lights of their little Plots, to in­lighten the darke corners of [Page 49] their private designes. So farre, Lord, as we withdraw our selves from the Rule and Law thou hast confined our actions in, so farre we lessen and degenerate; in stead of the advancement and exal­tation of their natures, they debase it and becrampe it: there is no progresse made, but with all our labour and paines shall be found onely to have gone so farre on one side. Thou art Wisdome and Righteousnesse; in the one, be thou the light of my eyes; in the other, the guide of my life: let me not, Lord, turne aside to deceit, but looke well to my paths.

Of Constancie and Per­severance.

COnstancie is that Atlas which upholds mans lit­tle World; without which, it is but a piece of contin­gencie, casuall disorderly motions, a world of Atomes. And yet, Lord, such are the contrary and irregular cour­ses of my life, that I adde to the outward vicissitudes of the world, the inconstant motions of my owne brest. The greater world is full of diverse and different opera­tions, and motions of Na­ture, yet a Cosmicall har­monie of the Vniverse is [Page 51] maintained through all the diversitie of those workings; and man, while his actions are concentrick, and are pro­portioned to the Rule of those severall Lawes God governes us by, he translates the harmonie of Nature to his owne thoughts, they all constantly moving in their proper Orbes. I thought I had beene so consolidated within my selfe, I could have found none of these uncon­stancies; so compacted with Precepts and Rules, so forti­fied by Experience and Dis­course, that all such varia­tions had beene excluded; but, Lord, I perceive my selfe all in peeces, involved, [Page 52] discomposed: How soone are my devouter resolves made a Trophie to my in­nate corruptions, and en­crease the victories of my more imperious nature? In braverie of Discourse, and finenesse of Contemplation, the whole Globe is some­time trampled on, the brags of Wealth and Glory des­pised; and yet, as if I were not Commander of this small extension of Earth, I finde my high-flowne thoughts brought downe to the lure of some contemp­tible Vanitie; and that Earth which I even now trod up­on, trampling ore my Soule and its affections.

The Heathens made brave descriptions of Vertues; they designed and curiously decyphered those heavenly Bodies, but knew not one foot of the way into them. Who can but honour their gallant expressions? The height and livelinesse of their contemplations? How magnificent are they in their language, when they with that pomp of rich discourse goe to set Reason in its Throne, giving it the Scep­ter and command over the passions? And among all the glorious structures of Vertue they have made, with what state and majestie doe they leade their Readers to [Page 54] that invincible, Fortresse of Constancie, seated on a Rock? Here promising, that all the stormes of affliction shall breake and ruine up­on't. The Stoick gravely invites your Hand to goe into his Barke, to sayle to happinesse in, sending Chal­lenges to Fortune; assuring you, by the prerogative of their Doctrines, a shelter from all its stormes.

Who can but admire the heights and transcendencies of their Soules? Their Pens well feathered with wit and expression, flying home to [Page 55] the mark of most mens de­sires, Wealth, Honor, Beau­tie, and with that Mercuries Rod condemning them to the Earth; and againe, a tougher Will, contesting with Povertie, Disgrace, Losses, disabling them to make us miserable. These are the rallyed Forces of mens defeated Reasons, the recollected sparks of mans weakened Vnderstanding, which may yeeld a warmth to our dark and frozen Na­tures. And yet for all the vaunts of Philosophie, our composures are loosened; mans Nature got a fall in the Cradle, and in stead of a compleat Building, there [Page 56] remaine but the ruines of one.

Its wisdome to come out of a ruinous house: I desire, Lord, to come out of my selfe, selfe-love, selfe-confi­dence; let it be my strength, to cleave to thee.

Error will sometimes seek to get a lustre to it, from its pretences to this Vertue: How many seeme to chide the slow progresse of their Soule, for not using more wings to flye to those ima­ginarie Crownes their delu­ded zeales were put in hope of? Constancie in suffering being no infallible signe of Truth. Slaves can suffer to admiration, and some by [Page 57] custome, as Patiens Lacedae­mon.

Fix, Lord, this volatile matter, untangle this ra­vel'd peece of thine, and give me such a conformitie betwixt my practice and re­solves; such good thoughts, and such a constant executi­on of them, that in the chain of my life, the latter linke of Grace may joyne to that of Glory; lest by any inter­ruption, or discontinuance, breaking some one of them, I fall into Torment.

Considerations in Travell.

HE who contents him­selfe only with as much as he can behold with his eye; the statelinesse of Buil­ding, the outward garbe of the People, the rich Liverie Nature hath bestowed on their Soyle; seemes to re­ceive such a kind of satis­faction, as one should have from getting to be able to reade a different Character, or Letter, without ever ca­ring for the sense or mean­ing contained in them. Out of Natures Alphabet, by the severall positions as it [Page 59] were of its Letetrs, and dis­positions of its outward qualities, all things are thus diversified in forme and shape: but if one would studie intellectuall satisfa­ctions, hee must penetrate deeper; consider the com­plexions of the people, and see what influence they have had upon their Lawes, they being framed by Reasons proportioned to them: to see what influence the Lawes have upon the people, in Protection, Wealth, and Peace, for they were framed for the surest defence and procurement of these, by the people: to see how the tide of their Wealth ebbes or [Page 60] flowes, running in the veines of their Trading; how it may be diverted, how stopt: to see whether they carry in their owne bosome the seeds of their ruine, parties, and faction, and the preva­lencie of these at Court, and how these operate upon their Counsels; how they stand in feare or assurance of Allyes, or Neighbours, and upon what grounds and interests.

Thus may you view, as it were, the whole frame of Government in motion; a lively representation of it taken from the practick, and not a flourishing de­scription of an imaginarie [Page 61] Common-wealth; like a Pi­cture drawne only for Beau­ties sake, by the observation of their severall dispositi­ons; what they owe to their tempers, their severall fra­ming, and mouldings up; what to Discipline, and Vertue: one will be better able to get acquaintance of himselfe, to follow the ad­vice of the Socraticall Ora­cle: to observe in the French a conversation easie and fa­cile, whose first familiaritie is such, that he hath left himselfe no power to goe beyond it, overflowing with the prodigall excesse of a verball humanitie. On the other side of the Hills, a [Page 62] people wise at home, and conversible abroad; in them­selves considerative, and in conversation agreeable. The Dutch, as if that divine spark, his Soule, were drow­ned in its moist Lodging, not able to make any depar­tures from himselfe; not ha­ving a carriage so fortified with ceremonies, and re­spects; not given to Caresses and Court-like applicati­ons, but onely such obser­vances, as may make them know hee beleeves none is better than another; their humours fitted and siding with equalitie, whereby they have beene easier cast into the mould of a State. In the [Page 63] French, what advantages their suddennesse and first violent motions afford, in execution of Commands. The Dutch hath his slow­nesse made up, and ayded, by conjunction of Counsels; as if Nature did still incline them to the remedie of their Constitutions, by a constant communication of their thoughts and delibera­tions; their excellencie be­ing like that which hath not its esteeme from the parts simply considered, but from the totum compositum. The Italians are fine and quaint in their Counsels, but dif­ficult to put in practise: what is taken from practise, [Page 64] is easiliest turned into pra­ctise againe; there being so much difference many times betwixt the rela­tion of things in Bookes, and the things themselves, as is betwixt a Journey in open day-light, and such a one as Virgil de­scribes a wandring by the uncertaine and changing lights of the Moone, in gloomie Woods:

Of Opinions in Religion.

THe Church hath al­wayes beene vext with Opinions; some, wittie and speculative; others, grosse and ugly ones. Religion is called the Mysterie of our Salvation; and yet how conversant is it made in the toyles of wit? Ingeniosa res est, jam esse Christianum; Syllogismi sustinent Ecclesiam. Words serve to beget Que­stions, wherein great wits, imployed for Victorie, leave the Readers eyes lost, in that pitch, wherein their high flights had Lessoned them; they decking Divi­nitie [Page 66] up with the feathers of humane Learning, to be able to soare in the subtill ayre of Controversie.

When Ambition or Pro­fit hath turned the edge of an Heretikes wit on one side, to maintaine an Heresie; how ingeniously doth hee wander in the shades of An­tiquitie? uncharitably wre­sting Texts of Scripture, diligently weeding the Fa­thers, making up a solid Body of a Discourse, well-spirited with wit and inven­tion; where is hard nicetie, elaborate thinnesse, weake finenesse. These are curious Models, which conforme not to the Prototype, but [Page 67] are delicate contextures of the Arts of Reasoning. They needed not to have retrived an old Opinion of a new world, since they might have found a new world of Opi­nions, fill'd with the ayre of Fancie, surrounded with the Ocean of Error. As in Phi­losophy, by their new Theo­ries, they have made, as it were, spurious and false Globes; that even that spor­tive Genius of Ovid comes neerer the truth of the Worlds Creation, than some of their chiefe Dicta­tors in the Schooles: So in Divinitie, which should be the pure white innocent Queen of our Soules, breath­ing [Page 68] upon them the soft and gentle gales of Joy, Peace, and Love; now they have made her like a Scylla, girt about with barking Mon­sters, full of lowd and liti­gious Questions and Dis­putes. They have drawne (as it were) upon the hea­venly Body of Theologie false and supposed Lines; new motions, fabulous and imaginarie: yet though it be beautifull in its native Dresse, and needes not the advantage of any forraine Luster, yet it disdaines not to be attended on by its pure and intellectuall ser­vant Learning; many times explaining it selfe in its [Page 69] notions, and using its helpe for Confutation, Distincti­on, and Explanation. There are deepe Abysmes contai­ned in its most familiar ex­pressions, which are but the condiscentions and applica­tions, as it were, to our capa­cities: there is a profound simplicitie in its plainest positions; and that sentence, Whom God loves he chastiseth, makes miserie it selfe Rhe­toricall. If it be too fami­liar with artificiall discussi­ons, in a few discents, or Genealogies of Arguments, it forgets its heavenly birth, and begets affinitie with Reason. All Arguments move upon the formes of [Page 70] speech, Syllogisme, they are the Products of Reason; and by a succession of Propositi­ons, the Conclusion at last being become so farre re­moved from that which ori­ginally begot them, that it many times hath not onely lost the similitude of favour, but hath altered its inward nature.

Some late Philosophers have proved, that Syllo­gismes are not sufficient to evince Physicall Verities, but that the subtilties even of Natures workings evade it subtill formes; how much more Sacred Divinitie, which lyes not levell with Reason? It being no more [Page 71] able to fathome or reach its transcendencies and subli­mities, then a little thred can by the arme of man be throwne about the heavenly Pole; seeing it can be proved by Reason, that Religion is above it, and to be left to mens beleefes.

Boetius saith excellently well, That Reason, to see the truth of those things, must goe out of it selfe; and that the minde should be lifted up to the height of that su­preme intelligence, which should there behold what in it selfe it cannot; that is, how certain and determinate prevision may go before the uncertaine events of things. [Page 72] He who is the Truth, and the Light, though not com­prehended by the darknesse of the World, converst with men on Earth in the depth of humilitie, in the exact­nesse of obedience, in the constant practice of each holy Vertue. There is a pure and heavenly Light annext to the devout aspi­rations of the Soule; for the blind eye of the minde doth not know how to looke up to the God of glory, if hee from above shine not upon it with the inward beames of his Grace: and though Light descends from above, from the Father of Lights, yet a holy innocence, and [Page 73] true humilitie, sends clearer Lights of Knowledge up to the braine, than any specu­lations can send downe the warmth of Charitie to the heart: for the Sonne of God (the Light it selfe) descen­ded, covered as it were with humilitie, and the heart is the seat of it; and so that inaccessible Light is con­veyed to us, in the darke coverings and habits of Hu­miliations. One may im­ploy the braine with loftie and ayrie Contemplations, and yet let his Soule slip away, for want of Charitie, which is the Soule of Reli­gion; by the infusion of which we are animated, and [Page 74] spiritually live. Religion is a practicall Syllogisme, whose premisses goe for no­thing, if there be not the active conclusion of well-doing.

Therefore, Lord, while others cannot agree, in what order to range and ranke good workes, and Faith; let it be my Faith, that the do­ing of thy will is necessarie; and thy will is, our holinesse, and the practice of good workes; and make it part of my workes, to pray for Faith and the encrease of it. Grant, Lord, that while o­thers cannot agree about the manner of thy Comming, that my heart may be so [Page 75] taken up with the Faith and joy of thy beloved presence, that it give not my head leysure curiously to questi­on the manner of it.

These are the sweet Com­posures, the blessed Recon­ciliations, when the disputes of good things are swallow­ed up in the heavenly frui­tion & executions of them; in this calme Harbour doth the Vessell of a Soule, tost with the windes of Contro­versie, safely reside.

And now, Lord, the Ship of thy Church, tost amidst the furious waves of Con­troversies, seemes to stand in danger of Ruine: but we know, the Gates of Hell [Page 76] have all their powers here defeated, though we crie in the tendernesse of our passi­ons; Master, carest thou not that we perish?

It is not so easie to give a Reason of some Opi­nions in the Church, sit­ting in ones Studie, as to goe abroad, and see that great fabrick of Power, and the vast Treasures, which are built upon the foundation of this nice Schoole-Divinitie: if the Church seeme to seeke in some Doctrines, its but oc­casioned, as the Fever of that sick man in Martial was, who was onely sick, to take occasion to shew the bra­verie [Page 77] of his house-hold-stuffe:

Error is many times more magnificent in its structures than Truth; yet, as its Gates, perhaps, may be more gilded, and shine more gawdily, yet they are like that Doore of Sleepe in Virgil; the fine one being that which let out all the false Dreames, while Truth had its passage out of those that were plainer.

Reformation in Religion is like distill'd waters, which being too much endevoured to be heightned, being once [Page 78] at their [...], they relapse and lose of their spirit and force; and mens spirits not know­ing where they have deser­ted that Centre and point of Truth, which should have fixt them, stagger and reele in the circumference and round of their owne fan­cies.

Religion fires mens hearts with holy zeale, making them mourne, as it were, in the dissolutions and ashes of their past sinnes; but its no incendiarie, to delight in those of Townes and Cities. Religion proclaimes a holy Warre against Sinne, and Vice, but never blowes the Trumpet of Sedition. Reli­gion [Page 79] exacts from its subject­ed hearts, homage to the King of Power, but dis­claimes all earthly Crowns; My Kingdome (saith he) is not of this world. Religion hath its power, and force, to the destruction of its e­nemies; but he hath said, it should be with the word of his mouth, and that the wrath of man fulfils not the justice of God. Religion is like the Sunne, it gives light and life to all, while it keeps its owne heavenly course; but being made to incline to earthly ends, it causes a conflagration. What ever good effects are produced from any false or erronious [Page 80] Religions, its by vertue of those Opinions and Tenets mixt with it, that beare a conformitie to Truth; and what ill actions seeme to flow, or be occasioned from the true Religion, they are the effects of those errone­ous Opinions, that they have mingled with their Di­vinitie, and beare a propor­tion with the malignitie of mans nature, rather than the others paritie.

Let me not seeke, Lord, thy living Word among the dead acts of naturall Rea­son, neither in the Calen­tures of unruly Zeales, nor from among the Glories, Wealth, and Ends men have [Page 81] on Religion; but let my Soule suck from the brests of my Mother, Truth and Salvation, thy Church converting thy Word to my foode, and nourish­ment.

Of enjoyment of Pleasure.

MUsick sounds best to one in the darke, be­cause no other outward ob­ject distracts his attention: and to heare the Musick of those Precepts delivered a­gainst Pleasure, one must shut up from his eye the delightfull objects of the sense; which other wayes [Page 82] would (perhaps) steale away his thought. Yet this is one­ly a remedie fitted for the weaknesse of the eye, which so readily recommends to the minde the flattering Courtships of these Curti­zans of the Sense. But to fortifie and strengthen the minde against them, its bet­ter to view them all in the light, looking upon them with the eye of Reason; and there, all their false splen­dours would not shew so brave. Hee who hath con­verst with them most freely, hath soonest found, that their inward dispositions, and qualities, give not him leave to live so happily in [Page 83] their enjoyment, as their outward beautie flattered him with the hopes of: he hath soonest pierc'd through that thin and pleasing rinde wherewith they are covered, and tastes of them as they be, in their owne natures; where hee findes anxietie, unsatisfied melancholy, dis­eases, decay of fortune. But to let alone those ingenious invectives and stoicall ray­lings against Pleasure, com­mending them to a common place; one may observe of it, that most men love to be wise by their owne experi­ence. Mans nature is so poore and indigent a thing of it selfe, that it turnes it [Page 84] selfe every where to seeke satisfaction; and its the wis­dome of Nature, delight­fully to draw us to perform its actions: she hath annext a Pleasure to the use of our senses, that otherwise it would be a troublesome thing to maintain our lives; that great Blessing of, Goe and multiplie, so much de­pending of it. Pleasure may make its soft impressions upon our yeelding sense, and its to put off our species, to be insensible of them. Some would make man another thing than he is, by robbing him of his affections; Plea­sures, say they, would con­vert him into strange and [Page 85] foraine shapes; and some of the Philosophers, for a re­medie, would convert him into a stone; as if he must endure the transmutations of the Poet, and act his Me­tamorphosis.

The sharpe and finest ed­ges of Pleasure side with Vertue, and Temperance; while they perish upon the ruines of their satiated and plenarie fruitions; and as long as they make no greater sound in the curious instru­ment of man than suits with the harmonie of his subli­mer motions, they helpe the Musick: but if their greater noyse drowne the voyce of Reason, or the higher facul­ties [Page 86] of the Soule, they be­come lovers of Pleasures, more than lovers of God.

Let all thy blessings, Lord, thy Methods, and Workes, make stayres for my Soule, to ascend to thy right hand, where are Pleasures for ever­more.

A Contemplation on our Sa­viours hanging on the Crosse.

NOw am I freed from the noyse of Passions, whilst with one looke they are struck dumbe. Now am I delivered from the Tyran­nie of insulting affections, whilst in him crucified they [Page 87] behold their owne death. The glories and pompe of the world have lost their pretences, whilst the Sonne of Glory and Power suffer­ed, cloathed with the fraile garment of humane nature, In this blessed shade, no poysonous Vice will live; the Serpent of Pride will not endure the looke of the true Brazen Serpent, to see him humbled to the death of the Crosse; Envie flyes hence, to see him suffer for his enemies.

And now not left to, but freed from my selfe, my frozen and congealed heart begins to melt and thaw, dissolving into teares, weep­ing [Page 88] for its sinnes, for which I see my Saviours heart to bleed. Here I sit, and bathe the wings of my Soule (my affections) in the flames of Gods holy love; and whilst the fire burnes below in my heart, my eyes boyle over above with fervent streames: here, in devout extasies, my Soule loses it selfe, in those ravishments of divine love: I goe out of my selfe, in wonderment, not able to comprehend it; but joyfully throw my selfe into those depths, desiring to be com­prehended by it. The joyes of a Soule divinely in love, border upon those inex­pressible ones above; for [Page 89] they swallow one up, in their profound immensities, and leave no capacitie for Rea­son to marshall them up, in words and expressions; the Wards, as it were, of that Key being no way fitted, to open the Lock of the my­steries of this Love; but leaves mens Soules holily inebriated and over-flowed with the deluge of Pleasures and Joyes; I becomming rather theirs, than they mine, being turned all to Joy and Love.

And now my Soule being melted with the meditation of thy Passion, let it be pou­red out to thee in Confes­sions; let the beames of thy [Page 90] owne transcendent Love be reflected back againe from my heart, upon the face of others; that thus shining one to another, and all re­ceiving our Lights from thee, may at last be fixt in thy owne Court, for ever sill'd with the beames of the joy of thy presence.

Let others sit in the Chaire of subtill Contro­versie, while I sit at the feet of my Saviour, in meditati­on of his Passion: Let o­thers boast of their false Retreats, their Groves, and Eliziums; while under the shades of thy sharpe and thornie Crowne my Soule rejoyces; nay, while in those [Page 91] shades which Crosses and Afflictions shall cast upon my life, in conformitie to my Saviours suffering, my Soule rejoyces.

A Contemplation upon a retyred life.

THe Poets sometimes gratifie the largenesse of mans Soule with their loftie flights, writing to im­mortalitie; and in the ex­cesse of their fancie, con­verse with Deities, tumbling among the Starres with Iove: and anon, let the motions of their Spirits downe againe, to view the contents of moderate and [Page 92] private fortunes. Thus wee see sometime the Sceane of the greatest mens lives al­tered; now representing you the prospect of Armies, Triumphs of Victories, Grandeur of State, the glory of Courts, Camps, and Ci­ties; anon, in their roomes, succeeding Groves and plea­sant Rivers private Walks, Discourses of the Worlds Vanities, Experiments of Nature, and such Compa­nions of solitarinesse: When all the swellings of Pride and vain Opinions are falne, and Nature freed from those affectations it hath got a­broad, it acknowledgeth it selfe, its owne Bents and [Page 93] inclinations. A life led ac­cording to Nature, is the reall enjoying of things themselves: but if accord­ing to Art and Opinion, its like as in Pictures; they view things drawne well to the Life, representations of Love, Honour, and Vertue; yet nothing but Colours, that lose their glories by mens neerer approaches. The joyes of an active life are more agreeable to Na­ture, moving in the Sphere of Vertue, than any re­cessions from societie can afford, whose privilege can onely be, to thinke Vertue. The masculine power of the minde is not beholding to [Page 94] places for their satisfacti­ons; but what is the true and reall dignitie of one place before another, by an intellectuall Chymistrie he can extract, and translate to his owne minde their pre­heminencies. There can in no place be wanting Groves, Rivers, singing of Birds; our bodies are a shadie Grove, where our Soules sit con­templating; the Musick of the Birds without, are all Gods creatures, which, as it were, in so many diversified Notes doe sweetly sing their Makers prayse; the Rivers, are that flux wherein all humane things are, Times, Persons, Things, which by a [Page 95] succession of their corrup­tible and alterable parts, doe still keepe up that current. These thoughts are, as it were, the better Genius, which attends the Lakes: without which, their retire­ments are but the refuges of mens sickly humours; where they begin to live of their maladie, rather than to cure it; and doe onely sacrifice the fumes of melancholy, for that incense of service, which they owe as a tribute for their being.

Those that would make loanenesse acceptable, by ad­vising men, as through a Prospective, to behold the greatnesse of Structures, and [Page 96] braverie of Courts, through the humilitie of a Cottage, doe make ones deluded fan­cie the ground of their con­tent, imagining that he still enjoyes those things, which commonly so swells mens mindes, that they cannot with that evennesse of judg­ment taste those purer plea­sures, which arise from the observation of Nature, ma­king as it were his Disease his Cure; the immoderate esteeme of the other having so vitiated his pallat, that he can rellish nothing else, though it be by the proxie of the fancie.

Lord, give mee Iacobs Dreames, that my very [Page 97] imaginations may represent things as Ladders, whereon I may see thy Goodnesse, Wisdome, and Power des­cending, our Allelujahs as­cending.

Considerations on these Times.

ALL this goodly Fa­brick is broke up,The mis­chiefes of a Civill Warre. and disbanded; the Elements of it rudely blended, and hurld together: that which was high, becomming low; and that which was low, becom­ming high. The towring Eagle is shot by an Arrow made of the same Tree, where he had built his Im­periall [Page 98] Nest; and in that Red Sea of Bloud, with which Pride and Faction hath overflowed this Island, is the Sunne of Justice and Religion almost set: men growing onely politick in Ruine, and wittie in Destru­ction, the best meanes ap­plyed to the worst ends; the vigour and strength of the Commonwealth consu­med on a Disease.

A Civill Warre once but named, what evills throng not into our conquered ima­ginations? How doth our unhappie Country feast the eyes of their enemies with the numerous funeralls of its owne Children? What [Page 99] cruell Opinions are enter­tained, residing as Tygers in the brests of men, to which must be offred the Victimes and Sacrifices of their dea­rest Countreymen? What monsters of new Faiths lodge in their brests, that thus devoure and prey up­on the tender Virgins, I meane the ancient integritie and candor of their disposi­tions? How doe they dabble in one anothers bloud? searching one anothers bow­els, as if like poysonous Scorpions they should be bruised, to yeeld an oyle to cure the poyson given by their owne stings.Of [...] Warre

A forraine Warre is like [Page 100] Lightnings in the Skie, which purifies and cleanses those upper Regions; but then Nature keepes its sta­tion: whereas if the Ele­ments themselves, of which this World consists, should make a Warre together, that must needs bring a dis­solution. If men saw no rea­son for it, its enjoyned their beliefes, That a House divided cannot stand. Oh miserable Triumph of our Ruine! Oh wofull Pompe of our De­struction! How all things weare the Liverie of Mour­ning! There may you dis­cerne Justice in its sable Weedes, so farre gone in Melancholy, scarce ever to [Page 101] be seene abroad; here Reli­gion in a corner weeping, grieved to see, that they have so long, like Whifflers, kept the Doore of the Church against the comming in of strangers, till all the Church is become full of strange Opinions; and that they never more take care to ap­peare honest and good men, than when most especially they intend to deceive: in another place, the Lawes wildly running about, and lamenting, yet so lowd, that all take notice of it.

And now, as in Orpheus Theatre, upon the ceasing of this Musick of the Laws, men returne to their fren­zies [Page 102] and factions;Men con­sult not with rea­son, but with par­tio [...]. they doe not debate, examine, and re­solve, but follow, adhere, and combine: Sequere post me, is the Motto of the Times; every one taking notice of the Signe, where he hath taken up his Lod­ging; ranging themselves in severall Boxes, which beare some outward Badge of the Faction. The peoples minds with the fire of Zeale, and the heat of these Troubles, being become fluid, and melted, are cast in the se­verall Moulds that wittie Contrivers had fashioned: The vulgar spirits, which make up the multitude, to preserve their beloved [Page 103] Chattels, are prepared to side with parties, since that begets support and counte­nance; and that he should be a prey to both, without being a partie to one. Thus every thing is imbraced, to which Ambition, armed with Power, can make its way: Quisque deliberat de partibus, de summa nemo.

The wisdome of later times consisted in wittie di­versions of these Troubles;The wis­dome of later times to divert troubles▪ saith Ba­con. whereby the many evills threatning the Common­wealth were clearely shun'd. An example whereof, wee finde in former times, in the people of Capua; who being resolved to have their Go­vernours [Page 104] no longer to rule over them, one who being well thought of by the peo­ple, and intending to oblige the Senatours, used thus his power he had with them: he tells the Senatours, if they would follow his advice, he would save them; where­upon they consented all to be lockt up in a roome, and thither he brings the peo­ple, pretending he had got them into that posture, to sacrifice them all to their furies (for the people will ever be deceived:) but he desired of them, before they proceeded to execution, they would chuse from a­mong themselves, who [Page 105] should have the others pla­ces: They, divided by their particular affections, and severall judgements, were brought to put in practice the punishment they in­tended the others, upon themselves; falling into so great difference and conten­tions: To prevent which, they all cry'd, to have the former Senatours released, and restored.

Though the care of for­mer times did keepe this humour low, yet,The mise­rie of this, to buckle with them like ori­ginall sinne, it was alwayes sprouting into action.

If in the naturall body any malignant humour be predominant, it presently [Page 106] confounds that harmonie of health, which consists in an equall and just temperature of the humours: so in the civill Body, if those that are lovers of the Common­wealth grow inferiour in number to those affecting change, its like the health­full temperature disordered by a prevailing noxious hu­mour: its the miserie of these present times, to en­counter with this obstinate Masse of the matter. What evills happen through the remedie, is like sicknesse occasioned by Physick; and yet many times Potions are entertained with worse fa­ces than a Consumption [...] [Page 107] And such is the nature of some Sicknesse, to flatter the partie into the opinion, that it is his onely delight; and so subtilly mingles it selfe with their blouds, that the other purple streames of Nature seeme to usurpe their azure channels.

There be in all things circumstances, and outward accidents, which mock the Polititians Counsels, which are governed by the highest Providence, and, like the Kingdome of Heaven, comes not by observation; yet here we may view the parties up­on the Stage, and see how the Sceane is layd.

The Presbyterian shewes [Page 108] you out of the Word, a Go­vernment of the Church, which is Christs own King­dome, which ought to be superiour to all other Pow­ers and Jurisdictions; and saith, its lawfull by Armes to impose it upon the Ma­gistrate, in case he refuse: his practice hath seconded his Opinion.

The Independent growes angry at it, that any restraint of the Spirit should be u­sed; and saith, its libertie of Conscience, hee can prove it out of the Bible: its that he hath fought for, and will have.

The Cavalier admonishes every man to returne to the [Page 109] obedience of the King, and the Lawes made by the con­sent of the free people of England.

A fourth cryes out,Forainers fore-saw this, and helpt to cast in these seeds and prin­ciples, upon which they contrived our ruine. they are all Heretikes; and these Divisions are Judgements light upon them, for depar­ting from their Mother-Church.

The Matter being thus prepared, the Spark would easily be procured: And thus are our men placed just in that posture, our enemies desire to play their Game in.

Our wittie Adversaries, by a penetrating insight in­to the constitution of this State, have long since con­trived [Page 110] our Ruine upon those very Principles this Warre hath begun upon, and may be continued: Those inge­nious artificers of our Ru­ine, dexterously applying their active to passives; and by electing fit instruments, aptly working upon the se­verall parties, have contri­ved our dissolution. Though other peccant humours have flowed in, and the ambiti­ous practises of great ones yeelded their malignant as­pects, yet the grand matter of the Disease lay within: and that sharpe humour in the Body of the Kingdome being set on fire, hath turned it into a Feaver.

They knew well the com­plexion of our Countrey, (which is now made too sanguine) as appeares by that Draught of our Ruine, delineated by the Pen of Campanella; who, though shut up in his Cloyster, had inlarged his minde to the consideration of all Crownes: And writing to the King of Spaine, how he might so treat with every Kingdome and Republique, that taking hold of the ad­vantages the things them­selves afforded, he might become Monarch of the West part of the World: And concerning the affaires of these Islands, he adviseth [Page 112] thus: That the King of Spaine should send to King Iames of Scotland, to promise him his assistance to the Crowne of England, in case of op­positions; and to get back from him ingagements, for the advancement of the Ca­tholike Religion; or at least not to disturbe his Plate-Fleet by Sea, wherein their Shipping (saith he) is so powerfull: and at the same time to send his Emissaries abroad, which should re­fresh in the people of Eng­lands mindes the remem­brance of the former ani­mosities betwixt the two Nations; and to sharpen and sowre the mindes of the [Page 113] Nobilitie, to insinuate to them, That the King com­ming into England, would bestow his Places, Honours, and Preferments, upon his Countreymen, to their un­der-valuing and dis-respect; as also in Parliament, that it be assured the Bishops, if the King were admitted once into England, he would bring along with him the Presbyterie of Scotland, to their destruction: Then by wittie Florentines, on pur­pose maintained at Bruxels, to negotiate here with the most eminent of the Nobi­litie that were Catholikes, promising each of them a part (the one not knowing [Page 114] of his negotiation to the o­ther) that they should be the Heads of his partie, in the Divisions which would hap­pen among them.

Thus, saith the wittie Po­litick, you shall sowe the feeds of an immortall War among them; that by their continuall Distractions, they will not be able to hinder you, in your Designes upon others: or at last, the parties growne desperate in Armes, shall divide the Kingdome into little Principalities, whereby at last they will turne your prey.

Thus doe they enjoy all our heats and Calentures, and at those fires which are [Page 115] given in our Warres, bring to maturitie their Designe of our Ruine; while each partie seekes to support it selfe with Counsells, and Strength, separated from that of the publique.

Is there lesse danger,The fruits of these Warres no other than they desig­ned. if this be practised by a neerer State? Perhaps, with the ingredients of many more fine and well-layed Plots. The Moone hath greater in­fluence upon the Earth than the other Planets; not by reason of its magnitude, as vicinitie. Let them bee phlegmatick, and have no Designe; stupid, and have no braine; (and can wee thinke so of them, whose [Page 116] malice is as active as their constitution?) yet we force upon them the enjoyment of their Ambitions; they suffer our heats to tyre us.

What is the fruit of all the Bloud, and Treasure, which the full Purses, and the wan­ton veines of England have lavished out? Doth not the present posture of things represent us in such a con­dition, as they fore-saw wee should fall in? The King in Prison, the Church in Schisme, the Countrey in Oppression, the Citie in Faction: new armed men dayly springing up from those Dragons teeth, which are so artificially sowne a­mong [Page 117] us. They doe not one­ly with the nimble dashes of their Pen, seeke to deface as it were, with one blot, all the faire and flourishing Letter of this Government, but with Armes doe lay in dust what bravely rear'd his head with glory to the Skie. Doe they not meditate of Cantonizing? And to re­sume the same Power they have pull'd down, and main­taine it by the same Armes with which they have de­stroyed the other. Is not that faire and goodly Mir­ror, which used to represent the beautifull image of the Common-wealth, broke in­to severall pieces, each of [Page 118] which represent severall fa­ces? Is not that Mould wherein our Lawes were cast, used onely now for to have instruments of Warre fore-cast in? Doth not eve­ry day the Case grow more perplext and intricate? New knots, which the most cun­ning hand will be never able dextrously to undoe, except they be cut; and the necessi­tie of the Sword must dou­ble upon us our former in­juries. Is it not truly ob­served, that Armes once raysed, turne to many uses, which at first were never thought of?

And thus our miserie, like Proteus, begets every day [Page 119] new formes and shapes. The farther wee send our eyes, to looke what will become of these Divisions; doe wee not lose them in those vast depths of Miserie and Ru­ine, in that Gulfe of De­struction, wee doe precipi­tate our selves into? Is not the fire onely likely to be quenched with the Ruines of the House?

One may seeke England in England, and not finde it,The pre­sent condi­tion of the Govern­ment un­establisht. as touching its Lawes and Constitutions; the Govern­ment being like a Ship that is almost covered with bil­lowes, scarce visible, yet in being, the outward adven­titious condition of the [Page 120] thing onely altered: And whether it shall be brought into the Port of Peace, or it must finde in those vast gapings and yawnings of the Sea, a liquid Grave; Heaven only is the Insuring Office.

The people doe not ap­prehend the Reason, and Wisdome of those Lawes, by the benefit whereof, they had their lives and estates secured; till by the neglect of them, the effects thereof fall upon them, in Oppressi­ons, Injuries, and Wrongs; and till, in the utter extre­mities of Miserie, they learn the causes of mens entring first into Societie.

If men make use of their prerogative, and that part wherein men excell their fellow Creatures, they will finde there is no way imagi­nable to hinder the corrup­tion of a State, but by the reducement of it to its prin­ciples; for every State, drawne within its proper Rules and Lawes, is strong, like the Tortoyse, within its selfe: but if through abuse, in time, they wander out of themselves, into other pra­ctises, they become weake and obnoxious.

A State founded upon Principles, proportioned and fitted for a Warre, finds it selfe unsupported in a [Page 122] Peace; and when that which was the ground of the o­thers upholding, is taken away, it of it selfe va­nishes.

Its a visuall delusion, to thinke the Land goes from us, when we put off from the Land; the Shoare hath not left the Boat, but the Boat the Shoare: the King­dome is founded in a Mo­narchie, in the person of the King the supreme Au­thoritie.

Of Bookes and Lear­ning.

THe Cabinet wherein the Pearle of Know­ledge is contained, receives ornament and augmentati­on; the Pearle it selfe no inlargement, or advantage, but in the beautie is be­stowed on its outward case. Words and expressions con­veigh Knowledge to us, and the various compoundings of mens Conceits are infi­nite, and men are glorious and splendid in the Arts of Speech: but as words are multiplyed by the diverse setting and joyning of Let­ters, [Page 124] so are Bookes growne numerous by the multi­forme and different delive­ries of the things under­stood in Nature; that one may justly resume that in­genious Complaint, That Bookes are encreased, but not Learning. The account of mens Travels into the remotest parts of Arts and Sciences, are exact and full; and for every one who have only by a Compendium view­ed the Confines of some of them, to write a Relation of his Journey, is to fill the world with imperfect Dia­ries of their junior sallyes and excursions: and if hee would avoid running upon [Page 125] things alreadie performed, and gaine a glory, Quâ se quoque possit tollere humo, he must venture for a new Dis­coverie, by which the con­versation of the intellectu­all world may be truly in­larged. The most observing eye will hardly bring any thing from our neighbour Countries, Spaine, or France, which hath escaped the in­dustrious scrutinies of for­mer Travellers; but those who flye over the flowrie fields of Learning, upon the wing of sublimer inquiries, and returne well laden with the Nectar of true Know­ledge, and Science, to the Hives of Learning, make [Page 126] their Professions as much beholding to them, as they are to their Professions; live nobly of their own Labours; not like Drones, idly con­versing still with the per­formances of others. Error now covers the Presse with its sable wings, and useth that priviledge onely to in­large its commerce with the world, being inabled with more celeritie to hold a speedier intelligence with the soules of men: such a swarm of mis-shapen Pam­phlets flying every where, up and downe, like Batts, that loves the Night; which, upon the returne of the Sunne, become condemned [Page 127] to ccrners: And grant, Lord, that the Sunne of Majestie, which thou hast set in the Spheare of our Govern­ment, by his sudden appea­ring againe in our Hori­zon; those Birds of the Night, unto whose eyes those Royall Beames are mortall, may goe to those places whereto Darknesse is banished.

The Schooles swell, as if they had reacht the highest Linke of Knowledge; con­trarie to the opinion of those, who thought that they were all placed above their too modest Reasons, and that nothing was to bee knowne. Some nobler wits [Page 128] have with the armes of their reason extended the Empire and command of mans un­derstanding over Nature, beyond the limits of any extant Authors, using the Motto of that great Empe­rour, Plus ultra; while o­thers have beene readie to apply to these, as some did to the martiall expeditions of the other beyond Her­cules Pillars, presenting a Crab, with the Motto of Plus citrà. Certainely, true Science is a solid thing, and carries one rather to the bottome & depth of things, than lifts one up in ayrie estimations, like that false Knowledge mentioned by [Page 129] Saint Paul, accompanied with that flatuous qualitie: Therefore, a little to lay downe their Plumes, and lay aside the swelling opinions of the compleat and full en­joyments of the meanes of Knowledge, without provo­king Academick rage, they may cast their eye, what esteeme one of their most Learned had of their auxi­liarie & instrumentall Arts, in one of their Methods he takes,Hooker, That it will keep men from growing over-wise; and that how-ever this Age carries the name of a Lear­ned Age, yet if men had the right helpe and aide of Arts added to their reasons, [Page 130] wherewith their inquiries might be advantaged, they should as farre goe beyond the learnedst man now, as the learnedst man now doth a child. One was handsome­ly commended for his con­versing with the Lawes and Methods of Nature, while others lost themselves in a wildernesse of notions, and art of Methods:

The Understanding is like a Looking-Glasse, which represents the images of [Page 131] things set before it: The wayes and Arts of Empire and Governments presented there, Creates the intel­lectuall pictures of those things, which begets that Science which is called Po­lities: and when by the pre­rogative of mans Minde, which can looke into it selfe, and see its selfe, all its passions, affections, and how these command each other, and how Reason, them; then are the internall images of those things represented in that Chrystalline Glasse: which notions constitute that Science, named Ethicks; man, as it were by a reflexed beame of Reason, made visi­ble [Page 132] to himselfe. When the Prospect is altered, and the motions and course of the Heavens are contemplated; the Lawes of Nature impo­sed upon those heavenly Bo­dies being understood, frames there that know­ledge of Astronomie: and when the Minde descends and viewes the lower Globe, there doth the description of the lower Globe lively made, in the understanding, become that Science of Geographie. Truer know­ledge is acquired, by the inspection into the Booke of Nature, and the things themselves, than by the things themselves, or the [Page 133] Booke of Nature, can be knowne, by looking onely into the understanding; for the truth of those things are without: the things them­selves are truth, which being understood, become so too in the understanding. There­fore many are ingenious, in giving reasons of Natures workings, framed onely by their active fancies, and prescribe other imagined wayes and Lawes, than re­ally Nature is governed by; who doe, as it were, in stead of relating a true Historie, make a Romance, and tell the adventures of some fabulous Hero: it belonging to the Poets, to mold the World [Page 134] over againe by fiction; to the Philosopher, to under­stand the true World.

All Learning, is but Rea­son; and it, applyed to the Consideration of severall things, beget several Names: as the Sea saluting the coasts of Spaine, is called the Spa­nish Sea; and leaving that for Ireland, begets the name of the Irish Sea: though men have beene so desirous, for ostentation of Art, to set out each part and portion of Knowledge so admirable, for curiositie of method, and tearmes, that it almost (by the circumscription of the Rules set about it) hath forgot its affinitie with the [Page 135] rest. Knowledge got from the things rhemselves, doe settle the Minde in the true value and esteeme of every thing; but that which is got-from Man himselfe, and so many Bookes, by a dis­proportion they beare with the things, doe benight the Understanding, and fill the Minde with mistaken passi­ons: The attaining such de­grees in Knowledge, and Learning, puts men in the same condition, as if they had seene no farther then the third or fourth dayes worke of the Creation; whereas he that attaines more, still is presented to him what is more glorious, and saw not [Page 136] before; till in the end he attaine the full view of the Oeconomie of this great Fa­brick, and make the true use of Gods works, by admi­ring his infinite Power, and Goodnesse; resting on which, is the Soules true Sabbath.

Of the vicissitude of Things.

IT is observed by a late Philosopher, that there be certaine Idols begot in the mindes of men; some, arising out of their owne individuall tempers; others, out of the imperfections of our common nature: whence [Page 137] many (saith he) conceit to themselves a more perfect circular method in the mo­tions of the Heavens, than indeed the nature of those Bodies will admit; man be­ing apt to imagine all things after an exact order, concei­ved within himselfe. Thus doe they erre against the Changes and Revolutions, with which all things la­bour, who fancie a more constant processe of things than is sutable to the al­tering disposition of all things. The elements are in continuall transmigration, and alternative conversions; their qualities forme our constitutions, and our bo­dies, [Page 138] which have affinitie with their fellow creatures, act upon our mindes; that inspired part of us being able to plead no immunitie or exemption, from suffer­ing from its earthly Taber­nacle; though by the light of it, it can discerne the mu­tabilitie of all other things, and by the strengths and ad­vantages it acquires from Reason and experience, can from its owne height looke downe upon all things infe­riour to its immortalitie. The Sunne, according to its approaches, and retreats, makes all things bud, flou­rish, and decay: every thing finds their periods and disso­lutions, [Page 139] by the force and power of that Law imposed on it; the whole frame of Nature is in motion, a con­stant course of Nature in its severall revolutions, Se sequi­turque fugitque. Arts, hu­mours, opinions, have their returnes; the same conduct in Princes, whether it be to act by violence, or by coun­sell; the same generall genius in the people, whether the Belgians revolt under the Ro­mans, or the Spaniards.

Invention of things, like some Rivers, sometime ap­peare in one place; and then emptying themselves into the earth, have travel'd un­discovered, into places farre [Page 140] remote. Every age in part sees the fulfilling of those Prophesies of Wars, Earth­quakes, Plagues; the Sceane as it were still renewed to the succeeding spectators, by the turning and rowling this great Piece about; This age shall not passe, till all these things be fulfilled.

Governments, as well as the World, containe in the matter of them appetites of dissolution, but are over­come by forme, Law, and or­der: you shall not tread the Stage of any Kingdome, but can afford in its Histories the prospect of its affaires diversified with the barren Hills and Risings of Sediti­ons [Page 141] and Rebellions, and a­gaine falling into the fruit­full Valleyes and Flats of Peace and Tranquillitie. To recover of a Sicknesse, is to grow young againe, saith the Physician; and bad Humors in a State discharg'd, is in order to convalescence, or long duration of Empire. Upon this Theater of the generall vicissitude of things appeares the execution of Divine Judgements, and the wonderfull methods of Pro­vidence; there being many times a Labyrinth in the dis­pensations of it, to the hum­bling the proud reasons of men. Make me, Lord, obey thee, in the executing thy [Page 142] Commands, though I find a reluctancie in my Will; and also to beleeve thee, though I find a repugnancie in my Understanding. Its our af­fections we ought to have a care of, and not so much a disposing and ordering out­ward things, which can pro­cure our Contents. Boetius hath elegantly described those Fetters and Chaines, wherewith our affections make us undergoe the tor­ture of Fortunes Wheele: