Temporis Angustiae: Stollen Houres Recreations.

BEING Meditations fitted according to the variety of Objects.

Martial. lib. 8. Epig. 2. Tune potes dulces ingrate relinquere nugas, Dic mihi, quid melius desidiosus agas.
Sat plenè, si sat benè.

BY THO. MANLEY, Jun. Gent. And Student, Anno Aetatis 21mo.

LONDON, Printed for John Stephenson, At the Signe of the Sun, on Ludgate-hill, 1649.

TO THE Most vertuous, and truly wor­thy Gentlewoman, Mrs. A. M.
Thomas Manley wisheth all the bles­sings of this life, and that which is to come.

Deare Mistris,

OUt of that spare time, stollen from the houres of my more serious studies, I have here from variety of objects, extracted and rough-drawne a few light Meditations, the extravagan­cies of a lighter braine, which I have [...]esumed to dedicate to your Name, hoping that [...]om it, they will gaine both weight and credit: A pre­ [...]nt, I confesse, too meane for so great vertue, yet [...] assured confidence of your goodnesse, that you [...]ill not so much looke at the meannesse of the gift, [...] the good will of the giver, and accept it, because [...] comes from a friend, was the maine cause of my [...]oldnesse, which if you please to pardon, adding [...]ithall a grant of my desire, acceptance, I shall not [...]nly acknowledge my selfe to be bound to you by the [...]trictest tye of friendship, but shall be bound to ac­ [...]nowledge my selfe

Mrs.
Your most affectionate friend, Tho. Manley. Jun.

TO THE Friendly READER.

TO make a tedious Preface to our ensuing short discourses, seemes to me as vaine and unnecessarie▪ as was his worke, who made the gates to his Citie larger then the Citie it selfe; all I shall say to thee, is this, I desire thee with sinceritie to reader, and without Criticisme, to amend what thou findest amisse; so, for such a friend, this short Epistle will be long enough; but if thou beest otherwise affected, and readest only, that thou mayst carpe, to such I have made this too long; I desire really thou mayst profit by thy reading, so shalt thou receive comfort, and I my desired reward, thy good will, farewell.

Thine to doe thee good. M. J.

Temporis Angustiae.

MEDITATION I.

IT is a Maxime in Phy­losophie, that out of nothing comes no­thing▪ but this would put us into confusion, and reduce us againe to a Chaos, un­lesse we were set upright by Divini­ty, which assur [...]s us, that an omni­potent hand out of nothing hath ex­tracted and drawn all things: being then thus rectified, let us raise our thoughts to their highest pitch, in contemplation of the end for which we were created; The first and [Page 2]chiefest thing certainly is, to exalt with prayses the power of our God. And the next is to love our bre­thren, and neighbours, for if we love not our brethren whom wee have seen, how can we love God whom we have not seen: for the former, our duty towards our God, is to beleeve that he is, that he is Al­mighty, and that all his attributes are true; what Nation was ever so barbarous which did not acknow­ledge a superintendent deity? Nature it selfe hath taught us, that there is somewhat beyond it selfe, to whose glory, and for the advancement of whose honour, all our actions ought to tend. The Scythians, though farre remote both from civility and ver­tue, yet acknowledged their Jupi­ter. The Egyptians, whose mindes vvere only stuffed with the study of Witchcrafts, yet worshipped their Osiris. The Indians, then whom, [Page 3]vvho more savage, yet they, rather then will have none to worship, fall downe to the Devill. To conclude, the Turke, though none more cruell, yet have they their Mahomet; Nay, those Anthropophagi, those man eat­ting Cannibals, then whom, though none more devillish, yet have they their Deity, on whose Altars they offer sacrifices, and to whom they put up, and preferre their Peti­tions; And shall we, who are Chri­stians, bought with a price, even the bloud of the Lamb, I say, shall we, be more barbarous then b [...]barisme it selfe? not only denying the ho­nour due to our great God, but e­ven as much as in us lies, both de­nying our God to be, and endea­vouring to pull him, if it were possi­ble, out of heaven by our sinnes; We knovv his power, but contemne it, and all men are sufficiently instru­ed; but Patience abused is turned [Page 4]to fury. Secondly, we must love our brethren, Love (saith the Apo­stle) worketh no harme to his neigh­bour, therefore Love is the fulfil­ling of the Law; and our Saviour himselfe faith, This command I leave you, that yee love one another. Cer­tainly, the often inculcation, and repetition of this duty in the Scrip­ture sheweth unto us, how strict and diligent we ought to be in the observation of it. It is a command, upon whose observance depends our vvhole happinesse; for what happi­nesse can there be, where love is ta­ken away? Or hovv can that Com­mon-wealth flourish, where nothing abounds but strifes and contenti­ons? By Concord, small things in little time grow great, nay, come to the top of prosperity; by discord things already great, in a small time grovv lesse, nay, vanish into no­thing; as by the one we rise to th [...] [Page 5]highest top of humane felicity, so by the other, we are throwne into the depth and gulfe of all wretched calamities. Hence then you serpentin brood of Cadmus, who onely be­gin to live, that ye may study and endeavour to ruine one another: Thinke you that God created man to be a selfe-destroyer? nay, we see otherwise in the very beginning; Cain for murdering his brother A­bel, was cursed by God with a hea­vie curse, to be a vagabond, and God set a marke upon him, lest any man should kill him; If yee bite and devoure one another, yee shall be consumed one of another; What can be expected there but de­solation, where every man vvill be in all cases his owne, both Judge and Executioner? When every man may doe that which is right in his owne eyes? What society can there be among men, where Love [Page 6]is taken away? Love is the life of the soule, the maintainer of unity, the bond of peace, the efficient cause of happinesse (and as Logici­ans say, Causa sine qua non) it is the builder of Common-wealths, the repairer of breaches, the restorer of pathes to dwell in; VVe know not God, unlesse we love, God is love; To conclude, Love covereth a mul­titude of sinnes, Love is like the Spring, in, and by which all things flourish, it is the most noble passion of the soule, which wholly spends it selfe in the attaining of a desired good. I could vvith the Silke-worm, quite worke my selfe to death, spend my selfe, all my choysest parts, all my abilities in this heaven­ly Subject; he is a child, a senselesse creature, a beast, worse then a beast, that hath never been touched with this heroike passion; but I digresse, I transgresse; to returne, Let bro­therly [Page 7]love continue, so shall wee bring to our selves blessing upon blessing, we shall enjoy the God of love, and by the love of God, we shall be made a mirrour of hap­pinesse, the glory of all people; A Nation, of whom it will be re­ported, that blessings & happinesses have seated themselves among us; to conclude, let us serve God truly, and love our brethren and neigh­bours heartily, so shall our peace be blessed and lasting, and our hap­pinesse infinite and eternall, Amen.

MED. 2. On the shortnesse of mans life.

THat the most lasting and durable things, if sublunary, are but fraile, I am sure, no man will, or can deny; the greatest Prince, as well as the meanest beggar, are subject equally [Page 8]to the stroake of death; the lofty Cedar as well as the inferiour shrubs, are lyable to be rooted up by stormy blasts. Craesus with all his wealth, Aristotle with all his wit, and all men, with all their wisdome, have, & shall perish, & turne to dust. One being asked what the life of man is, turned round and went away, shewing thereby that it is lesse then a vapour; as we are young, and may live, so we are mortall, and must dye; Phylosophers accounted it the chiefest felicity, never to be borne, the next, soon to dye. The oldest man living, if he but take away the time spent in sleeping and in idlenesse, (for the measure of life is not length, but honesty, and the study of vertue; neither doe we enter in­to life, to the end we may set downe the day of our death; but therefore doe we live, that we may obey him that made us, imploy the time [Page 9]and talent he bestowes, well, and with wisdome, and to dye when­soever he shall call us) I say, let him but abstract those times, he will finde no length of time whereof to brag. It is true, Age is the gift of God, yet it is the messenger of death; no man can promise himself life for a moment: how great use might we make of this meditation; what manner of persons ought we to be in all godlinesse and honesty, alway to be prepared against the day of our death (for every mans deaths-day, is his dooms-day) which we know not how soon may hap­pen, for,

Old men must die, young men may die soon,
We see the time's not long 'twixt night and noone.

MED. 3.

WHo would ever trust him that loves to break the trust repo­sed on him, and will never do any good, unlesse it be to satisfie some private ends, some selfe interest; as such men deserve not to be trusted, so neither ought they to live, for in stretching my conscience to harme others, I deceive my self, and while I strive by wicked and sinister ends to rob others of their hoped, and sought earthly good, I barre my self from an everlasting, by shutting hea­ven against my self; As I would not promise more then I mean to perform, break my faith, so I would not do more then I could with conveniency, least regard of my faith breake me.

MED. 4.

REbellion is as the sin of witch­craft, saith the Scripture, & we [Page 11]know that witchcraft is doomed to death by the lawes of God & men; by humane laws with death here, by divine with death (if we may judge) certainly, (without Gods great mer­cie) everlasting; necessity and want of friends shall never make me take sin for a refuge, I had rather go the nar­row way alone, then accompanyed the broad one: I had rather go to heaven by my self, then to hell with a multitude; and if I must make a Covenant, yet it shall not be with death and hell, least while I vie ini­quity with the devill, I buy the devil, with hell to boot, for my iniquity.

MED. 5.

HOpe is one of St. Pauls Car­dinall vertues, which comforts us, & endures us with patience, to wait the Lords leasure, for the fulfilling all his gracious promises to us; as de­spaire [Page 12]on the contrary taints our purer part the soule, with a rash presumption against, and charging God with a breach of promise. Hope well, and have well, (saith the pro­verb) I will therefore hope well, that I may have well, and never dis­paire of not obtaining that, which I have no sure way to loose, but by not seeking.

MED. 6.

REsolution and policy are the two chiefest things that make up a perfect souldier; policy to lay designes for themselves, and counter­vaile their enemies; and resolution to put them proposed in execution; po­licy layes the ground work, the foun­dation; resolution builds & finishes the structure; policy without resolution, [...] [Page 13]building, good for little; resolution without policy, a building without a foundation, good for lesse; but joyn them, and there comes forth a good­ly building, excellent wayes to ob­taine both a victory single, or abso­lute conquest, and I am sure I shall never attaine the Jewels locked up in the chest of resolution, unlesse I am able to attaine the key of policy.

MED. 7.

THe childe that is now born, cries assoone as it is entered into the world as foreseeing the miseries that he must undergo therein, and indeed what is the whole life of man but a compound of miserie; since there is nothing here, in which he may joy, & whereon he may settle his happy­nesse▪ the greatest pleasures bring [Page 14]the greatest cares; & if his head be ador­ned with a crowne, his shoulders shall surely beloaden with cares; every day increaseth our sorrow; he therefore is most happy that dyeth soonest. Our time passeth away, and we know not how, I will therefore alwaies be prepared against that time, which shal come, I know not how soone, may come presently, will come at last; & since I know every step brings me nearer to my journies end, and every day brings me nearer to my death. I will pray, Lord prepare me, for he that may dye every day, doth as it were dye daily.

MED. 8.

AS he cannot be a just man, that contrary to the lawes of nature infringes another mans right by vio­lence, and injury, so he cannot be a [Page 15]good Christian, that contrary to the laws of God, with a malicious heart, doth that to another, which he would not have done to himself; he that knows not how to obey, de­serves not to rule, for an imperious subject will certainly prove an in­solent Tyrant. I will give to every man his due, to avoid the staine of injustice, and I will do to all men as to my selfe, to gaine the title of a Christian; I will learne to obey here, that I may be admitted to rule hereafter, which I may with Gods grace attaine, knowing that for Christs little flock, there is a King­dome prepared.

MED. 9.

LOve, as it is the badge of a Christian, so it is the note of a man, because it is a passion too no­ble [Page 16]for any irrationall creature to be subject to. For God having gi­ven man a more divine part, the soule, then any other creature, so his passions are higher, then that they should be subjected by any thing but reason, but of all, this is most excellent, as alwaies aiming at some good: for a lovers eye is most peircing, his wit of greatest maturi­ty, his tongue of greatest eloquence, & all his inward parts (commonly) most excellent; which he hath most need of, because vertue and good are placed among so many their contraries, that unlesse his under­standing be quicker, he may be decei­ved, and grasping, Ixion like, a cloud instead of the substance, an alluring falshood, for a pleasing truth: but love is my subject, (or I am his, chuse you whether) and he that will write so divine a thing, had need of a better pen, and a quicker wit, then [Page 17]my immature youth can yeild, least my dull phrase, clog his lighter wings, and of God Cupid, make him, devill Cupido. Love then is the life of the soule, and the soule of some mens life, it is a pleasing tor­ment, a bitter sweet, a lover of truth, a hater of dissimulation, it is the perfection of all joy, the consumma­tion of all earthly blessings. Cupid by the heathen, was made a God, which shewes his divine power, it is al­waies young, for true love can ne­ver grow old and dye; and nothing doth so much sweeten and delight our life as love; the Crowne is the ensigne of a King, and no such King as love; it hath subdued all crea­tures, rationall, sensitive, vegetative, yea, and sencelesse have their sym­pathies, the fiercest creatures are ta­med by love, Ardet Amans Dido; &c. and shall I be refractory to so great a power? no, I will submit and [Page 18]acknowledge it, I rejoyce in my slavery. Oh heavenly passion, that canst wrap up my senses in so great delight! Let me but enjoy thy wished presence, I desire no great­er joy; for while it is joyned with vertue, it partakes of its goodnesse, and what of delight is wanting in one, is added by the other, a ver­tuous Love, being nothing else but a love of vertue.

Thus let me love, and there Ile rest,
'Cause vertuous love is alwayes best.

MEd. 10.

I Can never see a candle, that is now burning in its greatest strength and splendor, presently with one little blast of winde puft out and extinguished, but it drives me to the thought of my mortality; [Page 19]for why may not I in the heighth of all my jollity be suddenly taken a­way? Why should I be spared? doe I not see every day mē of abler parts fal before my face, and on every side of me? Have I a lease of my life, or have I made a Covenant with Death? If so, where is my evi­dence? what have I, that in the least manner may, or can oblige and tye Death? no, I have no such thing, I confesse my frailty, and cannot but acknowledg, that without Gods mercy, the most contemptible of the Creatures might arrest me for an action of trespasse against my Crea­tor, & deliver me over to his Jaylor, Death, till I could answer for my misdemeanors? But Lord, if thou shouldest be extreame to marke what is done amisse, who then could be able to stand? Enter not then into Judgement with thy ser­vant, for no flesh living can be justi­fied in thy sight.

MED. 11.

I Can reade in no book, but it pre­sents to my sight some profitable objects, to remember me of my mortality; for reading in Martial, I found an Epigram made on a lad, who walking under the caves of some noble house in Rome, in the winter, when the cold was pre­dominant, and congealed the water into hard Ice, an Isicle fell downe on him, and killed him; herein, me thoughts, was presented a sad memento to after Ages of their owne frailty, when vvater, contra­ry to its nature, shall turne (as I may say) heads-man; Doe wee feare drowning? When can we walke with more safety then in winter, when the hard frosts with their bi­ting sharpnesse have converted wa­ter into a more condense matter, [Page 21]and as it were made in that element a new Creation, yet then (see the frailtie of our natures) which from such (even) helps, cannot gather any safety: nay, from the fal­ling Isicle, I collect this, that the meanest things that were by God created, are of power sufficient to execute Gods wrath and vengeance on us for our sinnes; But there is mercy with thee, that thou mayst be feared, &c.

MED. 12.

LOve is a voluntary affection and desire to enjoy that which is good; Love wishes, desire en­joyes: now if there be so much sweetnesse in the theoretick part, how much more is there in the pra­ctick; if there be so much pleasure in the journey, how much greater [Page 22]joy at the end? If it somewhat tends to vertue, to wish good, then it is vertue it selfe to do, to enjoy good; if desire of good make a man ver­tuous, then the full enjoyment of it, makes a man perfectly happy; O divine and heavenly passion, that canst at the same time make a man both vertuous and happy! Let me now begin to love, that I may begin to be vertuous, and proceed in affection, that I may be truly happy. What happinesse greater then true love? What Paradise more glorious, then that of affection? Let me then love truly, that I may enjoy happinesse, and let me de­vote my selfe to a vertuous affecti­on, that I may have a share in the ter­restriall Paradise.

Thou conquer'st all, Love, let not me be free,
I will devote my self wholy to thee;
Thou canst make happy, yea, and vertuous too,
Accept me then, Ile be a servant true.

MED. 13.

WHen I see wet wood laid on a fire, as it will not burne without much blowing, so it will dead and spoile the rest which burnt well before; I cannot but think of mans inability to good, for of him­self, being backward to do any ver­tuous thing, when he is clogged with the heavy lumpish masse of the body, it will even obliterate those good thoughts that were before; seeing then we are so unable to do any good thing of our selves, let us fly to him that is able to give us both to will, and to do good.

Lord we are wicked, can do nothing well,
And do in nought but vitiousnesse excell.
That we can do no good▪ is our hearts grief,
But we beleeve, Lord help our unbeleif.

MED. 14.

PRide hath been the destruction of all its lovers, and alwaies carries them the higher, to make their preci­pice the greater: what made Adam lose his Paradise, but pride▪ & a desire to know more then was necessary for him? what threw the angels out of heaven, and of demy-gods made them all devils, but their too great & aspiring pride? our very common proverb, pride wil have a fall, should teach us to shun that, that we my stand upright; why should I love that that hates me, and how shall I better know a perfect hatred, then by this, that it seeks my overthrow? would any reasonable man be altogether guided and directed by his known enemy, and is it not our greatest e­nemy that stirrs us up to that dam­nable sin? I have no way then to uphold my selfe, but by follow­ing [Page 25]my master Christs precept; be ye lowly as I am lowly, I will ne­ver therefore be refractory to those commands that drive me to good, but I will take and submit to my friends counsell, (and what friend more true, then he that hath laid downe his life for my sake?) I will never therefore aspire, or climb high, lest I take a fall, but I will alwayes be humble, as knowing it is safest standing on the ground.

Qui jacet in terrâ non habet, unde cadat.

MED. 15.

THe tongue though it is a little, yet it is an unruly member, and unlesse well bridled, may bring the whole frame into a confusion. God hath given us two eares, two eyes, and two hands, yet but one tongue, [Page 26]that we should heare and see, and doe twice as much as wee should speake; I will not therefore be so thrifty of any thing as my speech, because a thing once spoken cannot be recalled; It hath never been hurtfull to any to hold his peace, to speake, damage to many. I will therefore keep my tongue as with a bridle, and set a watch before the doore of my lips, that so I may tame that which otherwise might happen to make me be kept under; And the only way to cover folly is silence; for though the wise mans tongue is in his heart, yet the fooles heart is in his tongue.

MED. 16.

ENvie is an inward repining at an­others good, and a griefe for the prosperitie of others, and herein doe [Page 27]envious men imitate their father the Devill, that knowing their owne state to be bad, they hate those, whom God hath placed in a better lot. Sorte tua contentus abi, is a pre­cept fit for all men, he then that is not only not content with his owne, but covets anothers, de­serves a double punishment; first, for violating Gods Lawes, and se­condly, for infringing and intrench­ing on his neighbours right; I will never therefore envie anothers good estate, because I have not wit or grace enough to make mine so too. I will never repine at anothers pro­sperity, lest while I seeke to impaire them, I make a breach on my selfe; for he that seekes to climbe by such a secret sinne, in all probability vvill fall with open shame.

MED. 17.

OF all vices drunkennesse is the worst, and of all sinners the drunkard is the most hainous, the sinne being a compendium, an epito­mie of all other offences, and the sinner by it made fit for any, for all enormities. Man when he is at his best is good for little, but when he is drunke, he is good for nothing; he is then made such light stuffe, that the Devill may carry him vvhe­ther he li [...]ts at every blast, which we may more plainly see, if wee doe but consider, how every breath he drawes in, drives him from one side of the street to the other. The Lacedemonians to make this vice odi­ous to their children, vvould shevv them their servants drunke. Though I commend not their act, yet I can­not dislike their end, though to make their servants drunke were a fault in [Page 29]the act, yet by it to make their chil­dren shunne that svvinish vice, was a vertue in the end; but we are o­therwise taught, not to be evill that good may come thereof; Since then God hath created me with a reaso­nable soule, that I might follow, ob­serve and embrace vertue and good­nesse, I will never so much dege­nerate from the end of my creation, as to make my body, which was cre­ated a vessell for puritie, to be a sinke of iniquity, and to turne a vessell for vertuous things, into a tunne to hold drinke.

MED. 18.

BEauty is an excellent ornament of the body, making all men love and admire that person in whom it recides; but if the heart answers the face, if the soule be as [Page 30]well repleat with vertues, as the bo­dy replenished with beauty, how can it be but there is a perfect har­monie? The beauty of the soule, vertues, are like goads to stirre up the body to good; the ornament of the body, beauty, is like poyson to the soule, to infect it. The beauty of the soule helpes to perfect the body, though the beauty of the bodie too often proves a snare to the soule.

MED. 19.

GOds mercy never failes them that truly seek it; it is one of his chiefest attributes to be merci­full, why then should wee despaire of that, which he doth as it were hold forth to us? If we repent and amend, repent of the past evills we have done, and amend what hath [Page 31]been amisse for the time to come, he is ready to imbrace us in the armes of his sonne; Why will we rather imitate Achitophell or Iudas, persist in our wickednesse and pe­rish, then with the prodigall sonne returne, and be taken to mercy? Since then God holds forth his mercy, and sayes, Returne, Oh Shu­lamite! returne, returne, I will ac­cept of his counsell, and embrace his mercy.

If teares once flow but from a Peters eye,
Theyle mercy finde, such are my tears, my crie.

MED. 20.

EVen to the poorest Peasants, Na­ture hath taught thus much, to desire content and ease; and where are these to be enjoyed with greater happinesse, then in the haven of rest? [Page 32]what content greater then to enjoy happinesse? and vvhat hahpinesse greater then to have communion with God? I will so direct my steps, that they may carry me to that place where rest and happinesse dwell, and I will so order my goings, that at my journies end, I may not faile (vvith Gods grace) of the end of my journey, heaven. I will cast the vvorld, and all things in it at my back, because they are all most vain, and I will only drive at heaven, be­cause it alone can make me content­edly happy; I will not value earth, nor principalities, nor powers, but will spurne them all for a doore kee­pers place in thy house, as knowing, that in thy presence is fulnesse of joy, and at thy right hand are plea­sures for evermore.

MED. 21.

VVHat is it that makes man so much love earth, but that it is most like him, a heavy and lumpish massy compounded body, good for nothing but to bring forth briers and thornes, unless well ma­nured and tilled by art and industry, in it may man easily perceive the dulness of his nature, apt to nothing but what is by frequent inculcati­ons driven into it; nay, the soul, that immortall and divine part of man, would fly to heaven, were it not clogged and kept down by that heavy element: every thing tends to its center, heavy downward, light upward: man therefore, that is in his body, looks only at that, though in his soul he aime higher.

Lord make me quit my self, and every thought
Thats clogs me down, & makes me do whats nought.
Lord raise my thoughts, and ravish my desire,
That so my soul may to thy heaven aspire.

MED. 22.

REligion by some men is made a cloak for malisciousness, & like Ianus, made to carry two faces under one hood, by many men it is little, by most not at all esteemed, and few va­lue it as they ought; some mens Re­ligions are locked up in their coffers, accounting gain their only heaven, some make gain great godliness, and others make godliness great gain; others Religion lies in the Cooks & Taylors shops, and commonly such carry their god about with them: a third sort there are that place their Religion on popular applause, and count the voyce of the common people, the voyce of God: thus e­very mans fantastick opinion is his Religion, and according to his de­sire creates himself a god; 'twas said, Primos in orbe deos fecit timor, that [Page 35]their off-spring arose from mens fear of them; but now we fee quite con­trary, every mans lust is his god, and what he likes and loves is his only diety: O insipiens & infacetū hominum genus! he that holds an uncertain Religion, and adores a false god, will hardly ever attain true happiness; no afflictions therefore shall make me change my true Religion, nor new and daily increasing torments force me to deny my God, For what would it profit me to gain the whole world, and lose my own soul?

MED. 23.

I have read of monsters and wilde beasts, but an ingratefull man is worse then either, for I know what to expect of them; but he devours courtesies, and his best kindness kills; who would sow the winde, or plow [Page 36]the sand? Me thinks irrationall crea­tures accuse such men, Andronicus his Lyon will requite his Chirurgr­ons kindness, and will pay the hea­ling of his foot, with the saving of his life; the earth for received rayne and moisture, will keep a kinde re­membrance, and pay its due thankfulness with nourishing fruits; Darius, though he valued not the poor mans cup of cold water, yet requited his love, not with thanks only, but a just reward. What shall we think then of those who glory in their shame, and account it their greatest honour not only not to pay, but to forget courtesies? that think every fa­vour bestowed on them deserved, and so not worthy a reward, mulus mu­lum scabit, was the old proverb, One good turn requires another; as I will therefore have one hand to receive, so I will have another to repay; and when any ones favour bestows [Page 37]on me, what I cannot equally and fully requite, I will not be wanting in my endeavors, and what I cannot perform by my actions, I will fulfill with my desires. He owes most that payes nothing.

MED. 24.

WHen I see that Spoak in the wheel of a Coach, which was even now at the very bottom, and ran in the dirty channell, pre­sently exalted to the top, and as it were, domineering over the rest; me thinks it presents to my view the great inconstancy of Fortune, that has exalted the meanest of all men to the highest pitch of earthly felici­ty, and cast down the noble, and laid them groveling in the mire; yet then to see that lowest come to the top, cheers my drooping hopes, and tells [Page 38]me that their seat is but slippery, and will decline: why should I then despair of ever rising, because I am now down, our old Proverb tells me, that when things are come to the Worst, then they will mend. I will therefore patiently bear the worst, and cheerfully hope the best, so shall not my present afflictions too much deject me, and the good when it comes will not so overjoy me, but that I shall know how to make good use of it.

MED. 25.

WHen I walked by the Sham­bles and saw the harmless sheep, conscious to its self of its own innocency, how quietly, and with how great patience it receives the fatall stroke from the cruell Butcher, and presently after, fee the filthy [Page 39]swine, with how great reluctancy, how much roaring, and how great unquietness it undergoes and takes the knife from the same hand, me thinks it held forth to me the unspot­ted life, and quiet conscience of a righteous man, that can acquiesce, and rest himself in the hope of mercy through his Saviours merits, and doth quietly yeeld his soul to him that gave it; when the wicked, con­scious to himself of his own guilt, startles at the thought, is amazed with the terrors, and roares even for fear of death. As I will therefore al­ways do my endeavour to keep my self from a violent death, so I will constantly live as if I should die dai­ly, presently; I will always have my Lamp ready trim'd, so shall I not fear, though the Bridegroom come even now; for an ungodly unpre­paredness makes and encreases fear.

MED. 26.

I have read of one Psapho, who being a man of no great esteem, bent his minde wholy to raise his credit, which he did by this policy, he took birds and taught them this lesson [...], Psapho is a great god, wch they having perfectly learned, he let them flie among others of their kinde, who taught it them, insomuch that the woods ecchoed with nothing so much as that lesson; which the people thinking to be di­vinely taught the birds, believed, and adored him. How fitly does this resemble some men of these times, who speak through the mouths of the vulgar, and make the common sort to serve as trunks to convey to them glory and credit. If credit be my aime, I will never seek to gain it by such sinister ends; [Page 41]the peoples applause is but a very ticklish subject for me to make the basis of my honor: certainly there­fore I will never look for that which cannot help me, lest while I hope to enslave the common people to my credit, my credit make me a common slave to the people.

MED. 27.

A Covetous man of all is most miserable, for he only studies how to keep that which God blessed him with to make use of; and though he possesse many riches, he enjoys nothing but care; his life is all trouble, care to get, fear to loose, for every mouse that stirs in his chamber, he fears comes to borrow some gold: he is never satisfied with a great deal, though a little were too much. I will therefore pray that [Page 42]I may be contented, since to such a one a little is enough, and if the best of us had according to our deserts too much, nothing will satisfie A­lexander but the whole world, but I say,

Contents a kingdome, and the greatest store
Is to make use of, and not covet more.

MED. 28.

I can never heare a churlish bauling dog barke at every one that stirs, and passeth up and downe, yet will bite none, but that in my opinion it points to me, and evidently de­clares the vile nature of detracting carpers, that wil finde fault with eve­ry thing they see, and glory in their criticismes, that misconstrue every action, and wrest every word to their owne sense; I can liken such [Page 43]men to nothing but Aesops Ape, who because she was curtaild, would have all beasts cut off their tailes; they judge nothing well done but whats their owne, though themselves can doe nothing well. I would not be such by any meanes, because by scanning other mens acts, I make all have a strict eye over mine; I will never therefore seeke that by criti­cismes, which I cannot attaine by vertue; for he who seekes to vi­lifie others, gaines no good opinion to himselfe; for by seeking to de­stroy others honour, I make my self but a foot-stoole, whereby their actions rise according to their de­sert, and gather credit out of my fall.

MED. 29.

VVIth what willing paines, and how laborious endeavours, [Page 44]will divers men runne a race that is set before them, all hoping to at­taine the glory of the prize, and to get the first touch of the desired marke, though it can fall to the lot but of one to be victor; this world is a course, and all that live are run­ners in it, but every man almost sets up for himselfe a marke, which he pursues with all eagernesse. Some aime at, and attaine their desire of riches, others not so much earthie, looke somewhat higher, and hap­ly gaine their expectations by the enioyment of desired honour: but a third, which is the only happy man, heightens his desire, and lifts up his soule, aiming alone at the only de­sirable marke, heaven. Let me not, Oh director of my steps, spend my selfe in painfull labours for the at­taining that which vvill not satisfie, nor runne a whoring after my owne inventions: but since I live here, and [Page 45]must make one in the race, let me di­rect my steps to the gaining of that marke, which can only make me happy.

Heaven is the marke that I desire to gaine,
Let me so run then, that I may obtaine.

MED. 30.

A Waterman is the perfect resem­blance of an hypocrite, who goes the quite contrary way to what he seems, and lookes not at the place he goes to; but some Italian pictures present to our view its absolute patterne, who shew on a straight line a Venus in her most compleated beauty, enough to make your affe­ction, like Pigmalion, adore the Statute; but turne to the other side, it holds forth the gastliest counte­nance that ever eye beheld, the ter­rible [Page 46]physiognomie of some bloud­thirstie monster, or infernall fury. Here you have the hypocrites ve­ry nature; who more Saint like? who carries a more seemingly sweet a­spect? who of a more (though faign­ned courteous, and affable dispositi­on; if you look at him with a single eye? but if with a searching & under­standing eye, you take a through view of him, you will finde him a devill incarnate, whose heart and tongue never speak the same things, and of so perverse a nature, that no infernall hag is half so divilish; he that with Iudas batraies his Master with a kiss, and under an humble o­bedience hides treason, deserves a far greater torment then an open ene­my. He hath great reason to fear that God will never own him, as not knowing the disguise he so often uses. Therefore my tongue and heart shall go together, and I will [Page 47]always seeme what I am, and be what I seeme.

MED. 31.

VVAlking in the fields, and see­ing the tender grass already tincted with a lively verdure by the forward Spring, and how invitingly with its sweet freshness, and fresh-sweenesse, it allures the fancy of the delighted walker to some plea­sing meditations. I cannot but think of mans dulness, that is not able from the sweet showers of Gods grace and mercy distilled on his drooping soul, to gather thence so much spiri­tuall life as may quicken his thoughts to the meditation of his happiness. Lord, as we, like the earth of rayn are receivers and hearers of the word, so let us imitate its thankfull fruitfulness, and with a gratefull re­taliation [Page 48]endeavour to be doers: ra­vish our hearts with the thought of thy love, raise our desires to the per­formance of thy commands; grant we may do what thou commandest, and then command what thou wilt.

MED. 32.

IN these times I meet with many men whose crazed braines will ne­ver let them injoy the golden mean, but alwayes drives them to the grea­test extreams, Incidit in Scyllam qui vult vitare Charybdim, for hoping to escue the one rock of superstition, they fall and split themselves on the other of Atheisme. I can resemble such to nothing better then Jesuits, and both to Sampsons foxes; who while they look and strive to run se­verall wayes, have a firebrand in [Page 49]their hearts, with which they en­deavour to destroy both Church, and State. Its an old Proverb, when the fox preaches, let the Geese take heed, for thereby heele only seeke by their securitie, an opportunity the better to worry them. I love not the Fox of himselfe, he is de­structive enough, but a Fox with a firebrand is like an Ignis fatuus, that wholly stupifies our senses, and leads about in errour, till we arrive at our destruction. I will therefore take the wise mans counsel; Take these Foxes, these little-foxes that spoyle the Vines.

MED. 33.

HE that lives all his life time as if he should never dye, or at least should never come to an account, but drives off his repentance, till he [Page 50]lies on his death-bed, and thinkes then, one Lord have mercy is e­nough to carry his soule to Hea­ven, may perchance finde, instead of joy, a gulfe of endlesse, easelesse, remedilesse torments: but what say our Ancients, nunquam sera, it is never too late to doe well: why then should I ever despaire of mer­cy? Was not the good thiefe on the Crosse admitted into Paradise? were not the Labourers sent into the Vineyard at the eleventh houre, and yet received an equall hire with the first? As I will not therefore de­spaire, so I will not yet so presume to expect it as due, I wil not with the Epicures say, Let us eat and drinke, for to morrow we shall die: but let us repent and amend, since we may dye daily.

MED. 34.

WHen I come among a com­pany of Musicians, and see every one playing on a severall in­strument, and singing thereto, with various voyces, and yet heare what a melodious harmony ariseth out of that discord, which pleases mine eare, delights my fancy, and luls my senses, as it were into a sleep with content; I cannot but thinke of that heavenly joy among the Saints, where all sing Allelujahs with one consent, what a superna­turall content they enjoy! If then our inferiour musick can so ravish my senses, what shall I say of those superiour? whose least harmony as farre surpasses ours, as the golden ore excels the contemned sand; the least sounding of whose Angelical voyces, as farre exceeds the sweet­est melodie, and most delightfull [Page 52]symphonie of our best tuned notes and instruments, as the purest Dia­mond, and most hard Adamant doe the britlest glasse. Lord make mee one of that heavenly Quire, that sing perpetuall prayses in thy presence, that my voyce may chant forth Al­lelujahs to thy name. Oh heavenly joyes, filled both with content and happinesse!

Lord raise my spirit that I may attaine
To chant forth prayses with thy heavenly train,
Ravish my senses, my dull notes inspire
With holier fancies, make me of thy Quire.
The greatest discords shall, that now appeare
Be then melodious harmonie; Lord heare.

MED. 35.

HOvv uselesse, and altogether uncomfortable is that roome at present, where darknesse is predomi­nant, [Page 53]making me sit in an unwilling idlenesse, which is both usefull and sociable, when candles are brought in; Lord thinke I then, how com­fortlesse is my soule, till thy light­ning grace spread its refulgent beames in my heart; infuse it then into my heart, and then it will be readie to shew forth thy praise.

Lord in my heart, make but thy graces shine,
I shall to praise thee then be wholy thine.

MED. 36.

THough Charitie begin at home, yet it must not end there, for no man is borne only for himselfe; a man must not spend all his kindnesse within doores, but must stretch out his hand to be bountifull to others, whose wants require his helpe, and whose penurie calls for something of his abundance: As I must there­fore [Page 54]alwayes provide for my owne, to avoide the brand of an Infidel; so, when it lies in my power, I will doe all good to others, that I may gaine the Character of charitable. I am not borne all for my selfe, but somewhat for others: for it is bet­ter not at all to live, then not to live to profit my Countrie.

MED. 37.

HOw soone doth time passe a­way, the morning is gone, the noone is alreadie come, and it will not be long before the night over­take us; the work we have to doe, we must do quickly; before night come, wherein no man can worke: our life is that moment of time, which so soone passeth away, the morning of our youth is fled, before we well know we are borne, the noone of [Page 55]our middle Age is alreadie come, and yet we are not prepared for that worke, which ought to have been done in our morning; the night of our old age is approaching, wherein the very stooping of our bodies to­wards the ground tels us, they are going to decay, and that now, that we would, we cannot take hold of that happy opportunitie so often before let slip by us. Lord make me alwayes readie to receive thee; The only way to sweeten death, is al­wayes by having it in remembrance, and the best way to make a happy exit, is by alwayes meditating on my end.

MED. 38.

VVHen I seriously consider with my selfe, how vvith two or three glances of my eye, I am able [Page 56]to runne over that most glorious fa­brick of the world in a card, which by perambulation, I was not able to compasse in many yeares, nay in my whole life; it drives me with admiration to the thought of the wonderfulnesse of Gods workes, of which we may contemplate with ease, yet not be able in our whole life to attaine the perfect know­ledge of them; it makes me chide the folly of those men, who con­temne other mens industrie and la­bour, and thinke by sitting at home, and finding fault, to gaine Knovv­ledge of the mystical secrets of na­ture, and the world: I will there­fore by praising their deeds, encou­rage, and prick forward others to the discoverie of that, which my too great sloth hinders me from, and since I cannot doe it my selfe, I will praise God for those which can doe it for mine and the generall [Page 57]good. He only knows to prize right­ly, that understands the worth tru­ly.

MED. 39.

I remember a storie of one, vvho coming into the buriall place in Rome, where Caesar lay, would needs know which was his head, a­mong many others that lay there; it was answered, that with no nose, which he seeking, and seeing all want, not being satisfied, demand­ed yet a second time, and then was told, that without the teeth, when he looking, and seeing all want, said so, and so could not learne: vvhence then tends this great am­bition to aspire, and thirst of riches? Your greatest honour in the grave cannot distinguish you from the ba­sest beggar; Irus and Craesus, Caesar [Page 58]and the meanest Roman souldier, the greatest King, and the meanest Peasant are all alike in death; the thought of this should drive men from such vaine thoughts. I will never spend all my time to gain that, which will at last doe me no help, but the chief of my care shall be, not that I may dye rich, but good.

MED. 40.

WHat a little spark will kindle a great fire? What a little fire will set whole Cities in a flame? How soone will Napthe take fire? The tongue is this sparke, greater provocations are the fire, and a ha­sty person is the soone fire-taking Napthe; How carefull then ought we to be, least our tongues by grea­ter provocations strike that fire in hastie persons, which increasing by [Page 59]factions, may grow into a flame? I will take heed therefore of saying, or doing that, which may breed distractions, and I will endeavour to set men together, but not by the eares.

MED. 41.

WHen divers men are assembled at a feast, I see that one can eate heartily, even enough to suf­fice nature, of that dish, which an­other mans stomack would not di­gest, which another mans palate could not relish. I can gather out of those greatest calamities that presse me, some hopes of Gods love to­wards me (for every sonne he loves, he chastiseth) and comfort my selfe in those saddest afflictions, under which, perhaps another man may faint, nay even despaire; We [Page 60]see that out of the same flower the laborious Bee can gather honey, and the venemous spider suck poyson. I will comfort my selfe with this, that God will strengthen to beare, yea, and overcome the afflictions he laies on me.

MED. 42.

HOw great is the content of the righteous? when he is depart­ing out the world, he alwayes ac­counted himselfe as a stranger, or pilgrim, and never set his minde on any thing in this world, knowing them to be altogether vaine, and unsatisfactory, he only now dying rejoyceth, that he is going to enjoy good: What traveller having pas­sed many dangerous wayes, re­joyceth not when he drawes neere to his Countrie? What pleasures [Page 61]have we in this world which draw­eth neer to an end every day, and which selleth unto us so deare those pleasures that we receive? I will never certainly brag of an ill mar­ket, but I will endeavour to mend my selfe: I will not be of their minde, who think nothing good but what is deare, but I will al­wayes seeke to have a pennie-worth for my pennie.

MED. 43.

VVHat man is not content to de­part out of an old ruinous house? who is so senselesse, and al­together neglectfull of his life and safetie, as to love constant fight­ings and battles? The world is an old decaying edifice, and what o­ther thing is our life, but a perpetuall battle and sharp skirmish, wherein [Page 62]we are one while hurt with envie, another while with ambition, and by and by with some other vice, besides the sudden onsets given up­on our bodies, by a thousand sorts of diseases, and flouds of adversi­ties upon our Spirit: Who then will not say with Saint Paul, I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ?

MED. 44.

HOw much that candle steeds me at night, which at noon day was of no use? yet not that now it hath more light, but that there is more need of it: every man will be my friend in the noone, the time of my prosperitie, but he is a true friend, that stickes to me, and helps me with his counsel in the night of my adversitie, vvhen ill fortune hath cast me downe, amicus certus [Page 63]in re incerta cernitur, I will alvvayes love, and desire friends; but a friend at a dead lift, is really alter idem.

MED. 45.

IN the same garden, where wee spend many houres to manure the ground, and set sweet and vvholsome hearbs; We see how slowly yet they come forward for all our care; when stinking Hem­lock, and other filthie weedes of themselves grow apace, nature be­ing to these a true nursing mother, to the other but a step dame; and those very hearbs when grovvne up, if not carefully looked unto, and clensed, will be choaked by the un­wholsomer weeds: with how great reluctancie, and how much labour is man, sinfull man brought to follow good? when all perswasions, and in­treaties, [Page 64]all menaces, and threats, all punishments and sufferings, are scarce able to drive him one step forward to good; yet the same man runnes with great willingnesse, much vehemency and violence to evill; How hard is it for a man to forget sinne, or to remember God? to sinne is the note of a man, but to stand in, to persevere in sinne, is the Character of the Devill: though I cannot, as I am a man, refraine from all sin, (for that is im­possible, the evill that I would not, that I doe) yet I will not be so much devill as to persevere in it.

MED. 46.

EVery stomack will not digest the same meate, for what is one mans food is another mans poy­son; the Conscience is like our sto­mack: for what I hold to be a sin, [Page 65]another perhaps will denie to be one; and as every mans palate will not alike relish all meates, nor his Conscience abhorre all sin; though he acknowledge theft, he will not doe the like for adulterie: though he abhorre Sacriledge, he can yet dispence with Idolatrie: nay, haply he may stumble at a straw, and leap over a blocke; he will straine at a gnat, yet swallow a Camell; hee will not sweare at all by any meanes, though in a lawfull cause; but for a fee, he will beare false witnesse in any cause; the only way to avoide running into this Dilem­ma, will be, to make a Conscience of all sinnes: I will thinke no sinne so little, as that I may willingly commit, but I will therefore endea­vour as neere as I can to shun all; Qui non ante cavet post dolebit.

MED. 47.

VVHat a various disposition of minde and speech doth eve­ry Climate affords its Inhabitants; and not only so, but the very same Clime stamps a several character of body on every particular Native thereof, insomuch, that in almost the whole world, one shall never see two men alike in feature, and condition; nay, some are by nature so contrary to us, that they are made black, drawing our wonder after them wheresoever we see them, as having in them somewhat mon­strous, rara avis in terris nigroque simillima Cygno. And though eve­ry man be thus bodied, and vizaged severally, yet hath God made the heart of like forme in all, thereby shewing, that though we differ in all outward parts, yet our hearts [Page 67]should all agree, tend to one Cen­ter, viz. the prayse of our Crea­tor; I vvill, since God hath given our hearts one forme, endeavour to reduce them to one affection, to doe the vvorke for which they were cre­ated: I will never raise severall opi­nions in that, which God created but for one.

MED. 48.

ALl manner of Creatures in their kinde resemble one another, man only excepted, amongst whom, tis even a wonder to finde two alike, the reason is, because the mixture of the humours is different in every man. If then the humours several mixture be the cause of so much varietie, doth it not argue the mingler full both of povver, and wisdome? Oh the depth of the [Page 68]wisdome and power of God, that can from such things produce so great a varietie! Can we ever suffi­ciently prayse the rich wisdome of so mighty a Creator? Could we sing eternal Allelujahs, all would be too litle.

As from the humours divers mixtures grow
A great varietie of features, so
From thence a hearty thankfulness doth spring
To our Creator, that's a mighty King.
From wel mixt humours best conditions grow,
From godly hearts the best thanksgivings flow.

MED. 49.

I Am the way, the truth, and the life, saith our Saviour: All the while we live, we are travelling in Christ our way, to attain him to be our truth, and our life. What is the earth but a passage in a strange land? [Page 69]for Heaven is our Country; What is this world but a Sepulcher, since our departure out of it is an entrance into life? what is it to dwel here, but to be plunged in death, and what is our body but a prison, since to be delivered out of it is Liberty? And if it be our chiefe happinesse to enjoy the presence of our God, is it not a misery not to enjoy it? I will earnestly desire to finish my race, yet I will not take a desperate course and murder my selfe; I can by steps and degrees easily and safe­ly descend from the top of that tower, whence, if I cast my selfe headlong, I should breake my neck; faire and softly goes faire.

MED. 50.

THe strongest and best man be­gins to dye, before he well [Page 70]knowes he lives, as soone as he is borne; and of the shortnesse of mans life are given many resemblances, but amongst all, I thinke none doth re verâ more really present it to our view, then the greek word [...], which signifies to breath, or live: it consists but of two letters, but the one is the first, the other the last in the whole alphabet; [...] holds forth to us our beginning, and [...] our certaine ending; he that begins with [...] and proceeds, must of necessitie come at length to [...]; Let us not then spend that little time we have here, so, as if we should never die: we have a long journey to goe, and yet little money, and lesse time to spend; I will therefore take heed, that I spend not too pro­digally at first, lest my wants make me fall short of my journeyes end.

MED. 51.

IT is the foolish ambition of too many, in this last and worst Age of the world, either to be best, or not at all, & [...] they cannot attain the perfection of their desires, they wil not desire to be perfect; I am not of their mindes, but since I cannot doe as well as I would, I vvill doe as well as I may, and what I want in my actions, I vvill performe in my desires. It was that pride that transformed Lucifer, once a glori­ous Angel, into a devilish fiend.

MED. 52.

VVIth how pleasing mirth, and yet mournefull melodie, doth the prettie Nightingal please the eare of the delighted hearer, while [Page 72]with sad Elegies she condoles the wretched fate of her brother Itys, the hearing of whose mourning, ma­king me remember the former sto­ry, drives me to the thought of my ovvne obstinacie, that for grea­ter sinnes cannot sigh out one com­plaint, or shed one relenting or repenting teare; Oh the dulnesse of humane nature, which the very birds, and other irrationall Crea­tures can reprehend! Let us there­fore alvvayes take care of doing that, which drawes downe judge­ments on us.

MED. 53.

WHen in the beginning of the Spring I vvalke in the fields, and heare there the chirping me­lody of the little Nightingale, how doe her sweet notes ravish my senses [Page 73]vvith joy, vvhich vvhen I seriously have hearkned unto, and consider one poor bird can so please, nay, even revive me, then think I, vvith how much greater delight should I be vvrapt, vvhen I meditate on those heavenly joyes, where every Singer is a King, and every Minister an An­gel, vvhere there is joy infinite, pleasures everlasting, and happiness vvithout end, vvhere all things ever flourish, and perpetuall Anthems are chanted forth to him that sits on the throne. Lord, make me but wor­thy to enjoy a place in that heaven­ly mansion, and receive me into those everlasting habitations, vvhere I may count it my greatest happiness to know, that my felicity is vvithout end.

MED. 54.

A Happy content, is the only contented happiness, and to a covetous man, the vvhole vvorld is not enough, though the least part or tittle of it be too much; Esau, though he confess he has much, yet desires more; Iacob, though he has little, yet thinks it enough; desire lifts up the poor man toget, the rich man though he have, yet is troubled to keep. I would not be therefore too poor, lest I take the name of God in vain, and despair of his love to me; neither de­sire to be too rich, lest I say, vvho is the Lord, & deny him; but make me able to say vvith Paul, In what condi­tion soever I am, I have learned there­with to be content.

MED. 55.

WHat traveller doth not pati­ently endure many weary steps, and hazard his person in many dangerous wayes, that he may at last come to his beloved Country? what man lives, that is not here, both a Stranger and a Pilgrim? we must go many steps by temptations, and run through the furnace of afflictions, be­fore we come to heaven. The way to Canaan is through the Wilderness; the way to heaven is narrow, and they that travell therein, must turn neither to the right or left hand, lest they fall into the Desart of Sin, and be torne by the bryers and thornes of Temptations and afflicti­ons. Shall we therefore despair? no, the Apostle saith, In patience possess you your souls. How sore was David tried in Absoloms Rebellions? yet [Page 76]what a glorious exit from them was wrought by his patience. I will therefore patiently submit to God in the bearing my own burthens, as knowing it will have a period: and I will not fret, but quietly wait, ho­ping to enjoy his promises of mer­cie; Da mihi in hâc vitâ patientiam, in alterâ indulgentiam.

MED. 56.

HOw great a happiness is there in content, and how contented is that man that is happy? was not C. Fabritius happy in his content, that would rather, though poor, refuse the Samnits gold, rather then be rich by dishonesty? Which were more happy, they, who in the destruction of their Country, sought only the preservation of their riches, or Byas bewailing its misery, and being sa­tisfied [Page 77]vvith his Omnia mea mecum porto: It was a brave speech, Next to Alexander that has all things, is Dio­genes, who contemnes all things, is content vvith all things. It is no marvell if we covet more, vvhen in all things of the vvorld there is no satisfaction; though vve may satisfy the desires of our soul, yet we can­not satisfy the souls of our desires.

Felices animae! quibus haec cognoscere cura est,
In (que) domos superas scandere cura fuit.

MED. 57.

HOw great an uncertainty is there in the things of this world? and vvhen a man is at highest, he is in most danger of falling; Sejanus, as Seneca speaks of him, presently sunk and fell in a day; and Bibulus, in the height of his joy, and in the midst of [Page 78]his triumph, vvas killed by a tile fal­ling upon him: vvho vvould spend himself in grasping that vvhich he is sure he cannot hold! I vvill never grieve to lose that vvhich I cannot keep; but I wil with the Philosopher, vvalking in the Fair, thank God he hath made so many things vvhich I have no need of; he that chuseth vanity, is lighter then vanity.

MED. 58.

THe wicked vvorldling thinks it the greatest judgement, to in­dure, and undergo affliction, when the righteous esteem their condition saddest, if God cease to be angry, and vvill chastise no more; for it is then vvith the soul, as with a ship, which when the Pilot leaves, no man will look after it, but all run from it, & leave it, till at last it perishes. I will [Page 79]therefore say vvith the Wiseman, Give me any plague, but the plague of the heart, and any anger of God, but this, that he vvill be angry no more.

MED. 59.

GOd at first made man in his own Image, that he might glorifie him for his creation, and direct his steps to the following of true good­ness; for truth is a patterne of that Image, in vvhich God at the first made man, and is as a girdle of many links, whereby we may climb to true happiness; the first of which is con­formity, when we apprehend him as really he is: another is, when we speak according to what we know, and do according as we speak. Lord, since thou createdst us all here to end, make us consider, and always [Page 80]remember the end of our creation, and not as it were emulous of the Serpents curse, to cleave with our belly to the ground: as we have our being from God, so we have our welbeing in God.

MED. 60.

VVHat have I done to this an­gry little dog, that he thus flies at my shins, & follows me baul­ling, ready at every step I take to bite me, I neither chid, or struck, or offe­red to do any thing else at him: thus do I see how causelesly an honest man may be persecuted, and how every pedantique fellow vvill follow him, not only with mocks and flouts, but bitter railings, and malicious false ac­cusations; what Christian will de­sire to be better esteemed then his Saviour, was he not so used? vvho [Page 81]had greater temptations in this kinde then David, a man after Gods own heart? Lord direct me but in thy way, I shall not regard then any per­secution; it shall never trouble me, though I be persecuted, if it be un­deservedly. I had rather suffer per­secution, and not deserve, then de­serve, and not suffer it.

MED. 61.

WHat fruits could the parched ground bring forth, if not moist­ned with seasonable raine? what sweet and fertile showers doth the heaven send down to refresh its drough, and enliven the longing hopes of the laborious Husband­man? How barren would that soul be, where grace through the eye cannot for former sins drive out one repentant teare? the sin of our soul [Page 82]is the soul of our sin, and vvhen our eyes cannot dissolve themselves into rivers of teares, our hearts congeale as hard as rocks of Adamant; yet that Adamant can be broken with vineger, and teares of repen­pentance will wash away the hard­ness of our stony heart.

Lord grant me grace to turne away sins smart,
And make my teares soften my flinty heart.

MED. 62.

THe poor Publican vvas sooner heard, that said little, and stood afar off, then the proud-loud-boa­sting Pharisee: 'tis not the multi­tude of our words, but the zeal of our hearts that God affects: the righteous man in the midst of trouble can fly to God by his prayer, when the abundant prosperity of the wicked makes him guilty [Page 83]both of neglect and infidelity: the prayer of the heart, is the heart of prayer, and where my faith fails, my prayer falls; our infidelity stops Gods eare, and makes us that we cannot heare vvhen he calls. I will be humble in prayer, but not feare­full, Qui timide rogat, docet negare.

MED. 63.

THe sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord, when the prayer of the righteous is as a sweet smelling odour. Zeno sayling vvith a company of lewd Athiests, there suddenly arose such a storm; as drove the most impious among them to his prayer; peace; quoth he, lest the gods hearing, cast us a­way, because you are here: 'tis our iniquities that separate between us and our God: I will never therefore [Page 84]absent my self from God by prayer, so long, as that vvhen I come, I should be taken as a stranger; nor shall the burden of my sins so clog me down, but that I will fly to my God.

MED. 64.

IN the midst of extremities, to fly to Christ, is the sign of a true Chri­stian faith; to hope and rest on God, is the best muniment. We reade, our Saviour slept in the height of a storm; a quiet conscience is a bed of Downe, yet is he not so se­cure in himself, but that he can sym­pathise vvith his disciples: shall vve say, his suffering them to ingeminate their calls, vvas either because of a deafness in his eare, or dulness in his heart? O no, he heard them at first, but he loved to heare them again, but they no sooner speak, we perish, [Page 85]but he awakes; me thinks I see our Saviour startle at that word: thus do we see the gentle prayer of a disciple is sooner heard in heaven, then all the thundring of the creature, and that Christ that sleepes in a storm, wakens with a prayer.

Lord teach me but to pray, so shall no sea
Of woe ore whelm me, for Ile fly to thee.

MED. 65.

HAve you seen the rugged Oce­an disturbed with the impetu­ous blasts of furious windes, how it curles its angred forehead, with threatning vvaves, affrighting with the terrour of death, the most skilfull Pilot, and valiantest Navigator that ever sayled on the Maine? but then to remember the storm our Saviour stilled, comforts them, and tells us, that Gods Justice never failes, it al­alwayes [Page 86]meets with the ringleaders in any sedition; neither doe the fol­lowers escape unpunished: The windes resemble the leaders, the waters like the common people, are of themselves quiet, but once moved, montes volvuntur aquarum. I will never raise such a spirit, which I am not able to allay, lest at last it pull my house over my head.

MED. 66.

WHen a sudden storme arises, how fast will the harmelesse sheep runne to the next brambles, where thinking to save her selfe by its shelter from the fury of the storme, it is deceived into a great­er ill, and returnes with some losse of its fleece; just such thinke I, many times proves the friendship of some ingrateful, and self-seeking [Page 87]friends, to whom, when driven by the adverse blasts of a contrary fortune, I retire my selfe for help and comfort, they either altogether cast me off, or prey upon my ne­cessitie, so that such help proves more fatall to me then my worst calamitie. I may patiently beare all outward miseries, and though I am wet to the skin, I can drie my selfe againe, but when my profes­sed friend, instead of love, works my woe, this, this cuts me to the heart: Brutus one stroke went neer­er Caesars heart, then the stabs of all his other enemies.

MED. 67.

WHat a beastly drunkennesse will soone surprize that man that sits all day, and drinkes nought but wine, when the same moderately [Page 88]used, is both pleasant and good. Prosperitie is this wine, a constant enjoyment whereof might cast into a surfeit of sinne; God therefore mingles it with affliction, to keepe us sober; Shall I dislike the physicke, because it pleases not my palate? I care not whether it be toothsome, so it be wholsome: we would have it to cure, not to please us: give me so much prosperity, as may make me mindeful to returne, and cast me not downe so much, as to make me despaire of thy love: I may as well starve as surfeit.

MED. 68.

AS the Hart panteth after the ri­vers of water, so longs my soule after thee oh God. It vvould be an easie matter to come to hea­ven, if outward shewes and profes­sions [Page 89]would bring us thither, there must be a hearty desire, an earnest longing, and a constant perseve­rance therein; we will run through all difficulties, to attaine what we long for, what we desire: hence then is our Love to God knovvn to be hearty, if for his sake, we make light of the world, contemne affli­ctions, and count all things but drosse in comparison of him. I will not serve God, because others doe so, but because it is my duty.

MED. 69.

AM I the first whom a false re­port hath slandered, or doe I thinke I shall be the last? Why then doe I so trouble and vexe my selfe? It is the commonest thing of a thousand, to be told of our fail­ings, (though what we doe well, is [Page 90]husht up in oblivion) and can any man think to sinne, and not heare of it? yea, but the falsenesse of the thing laid to my charge, is the cause of my vexation, they laid to my charge things that I never heard of: but shall I expect better measure here, then was dealt to our Savi­our? was not he more maliciously accused? but this thing will make me take heed to my wayes, I will never say, or doe any thing that I would be ashamed to let all the world see and heare. The only way to deterre us from sinning, is, to say, this I am about to act, is sin, and therefore cannot be secret.

MED. 70.

BLessed are the Peace makers: how happy then is he that com­poses and allaies divisions? the greatnesse of the blessing is never [Page 91]rightly knovvn, but by the good­nesse; that Marriner can never tru­ly prize a calme, that hath not been in a storme; in a calme the Sea is the skies looking-glasse, it is the stil musick of the world. Peace is the vigour of the Law, the ho­nest mans best patent, the harmo­ny of the soule, the richest casket of a Kings Crown; where Peace is banished, confusion presently ar­rives: If Peace be in our wals, then plenteousnesse will be in our Pa­laces. The Gospel is the word of peace, it is the grand blessing of our heavenly Father; Osculum spi­ritus sancti: tis like the Dove in the Arke, alway with the Olive branch of plenty in its mouth; tis the brides wedding Ring, and the Bride­groomes garment; Oh heavenly happinesse, wherein we imitate the harmony of the Communion of Saints! Oh thou who givest every [Page 92]good and perfect gift, send us this Peace! I may say of it, as one of ingratitude, Si ingratum dixeris, om­nia dixeris: give us this blessing, and we have an Epitome, a com­pendium of all blessings. Oh God send us thy peace, then shall we en­joy thee, the God of Peace.

MED. 71.

WOuld any man desire to be hap­py? seeke it then in the ha­ven of happinesse; a perpetual stu­dy and labour in Gods Law, will at length worke out a perpetual blisse. The Saints felicity carries with it perpetuity, in rebus Coelesti­bus non consideramus tempus, this flesh can have nothing in it but what is perishing, but the robe of glory shall never weare out, or suffer a consumption; the state of perfected [Page 93]blisse shall never be stirred, semper satiaberis, & nunquam satiaberis, I will never be so impious, to make salvati­on an uncertaine demise, and in my greatest fainting fit, I will comfort my selfe with this, that there is a state of life to hold me up; I will stock it in heaven, where I shal never need fear of being robbed; Saints, though they may have some tem­porary faults, yet they have a cer­taine blisse, peccent Sancti, non pere­unt.

MED. 72.

WIth vvhat earnest, yet hum­ble expressions, doth this poore beggar follow, intreating the extent of my charity in the small gift of a penny, which when he hath received, how many thanks doth he returne me; vvhen my [Page 94]whole estate will not serve a griping usurer; Oh God! the least of thy blessings are more then I deserve, make me thankful to thee, that whatever I doe may be to thy glory, make me pray earnestly, yet humbly, that so by thy grace, I may be freed from the pawes of that hungry Lion, whom nothing will satisfie, but the eternal destru­ction of my soule.

MED. 73.

WIth hovv much glory doth the Sun arise, darting forth com­fort with his shining beams, not one ambitious cloud daring to intercept our joy; yet see how soone after his glittering rayes are overspread vvith dusky clouds, that dimme his heavenly light, and rob us of the joyes we should receive from his [Page 95]great lustre: Such thinke I then are we, when with more curious thought I view the fleeting course of gladsome youth, how soone his flower decayes; If in the Sun­shine of our pleasant Spring, we doe not, are not good, how on a sud­den are we hindred from our aime, being overclouded with an older age; for if we thus neglect our pri­mer yeares, and suffer youth fruit­lesse to fade away, wherefore then doe we live, or were we borne? I will not therefore neglect my [...], the present time, but I will doe good vvhile I may, for I know not how soone the clouds of age, or afflictions may let me.

MED. 47.

OUr dayes flie avvay like a sha­dow; so soone passeth it away, [Page 96]and vve are gone, saith the Psal­mist: Can any man thinke his plea­sures here are permanent, or hope his life will endure for ever, be­cause a little happy? observe we but how stealingly death steps in, tacito pede, vvhen we thinke our joyes are surest; no ransome, not the whole world is sufficient to re­deeme one day; if worthy acts or valour were sufficient, he then had yet remained alive, vvhose twelve labours yet record his fame with honour. And that great Alexander, vvho with but a handfull of men o­verthrew the Persian pride, and tooke the Crovvne from off its Mo­narchs head: but their fall shewes our life is but a flower, grovving to day, perhaps nursed by the Suns warmth, and refresht vvith colder dew, yet plucked ere night from off its stalke, and vvithered.

What man is he who can put by deaths dart,
If levell'd once, and shot against his heart?

MED. 75.

SEe you that dust vvith which the sportive winde does play the wan­ton? now framing it in curles; anon disperseth it abroad, throwing it now here, now there, it is perhaps the remaining reliques of some fallen beauty: See, even in death it hath not lost its nature, but as before so still, does fly about to trouble our vveaker sight. O insolent, yet emp­ty boast of flesh! though we be en­nobled with the greater honor, & set on the top of Fortunes wheel in our life, though vve leave heires behinde to maintain our name, vvhich vvill vvith everlasting monuments (as much as in them lies) eternize our dying, nay, dead memory, yet vvill death betray for all these things our dust to every blast! Alas poor re­lique of our glory, vvilt thou still [Page 98]swell with glorious ambition; or ra­ther is it not to mock weake, yet proud man, vvho rises straight a­bove his center by the meanest blast of common praise, ready to think himself now vveak and falling, stable, yea even immortall.

Leave off this pride fraile man, for all thy lust
To beauti's madness, for it courts but dust.

MED. 76.

EXpectation in a weak and vveari­ed minde, makes an evill greater, and a good less, but the constantly resolved minde diverts an evil, being come, and makes a future good present before it come. I expect then the best, I know the vvorst; vvorst and best vvill arrive both at their end.

MED. 77.

AS I vvalked about, hoping to please my wandring sight vvith pleasing objects, I hapned to come into a place separated for the buriall of the dead; vvhich vvhen I had en­tred, instead of my hoped and desi­red pleasures, I saw nothing but signs of mortality, here lay skulls halfe covered with haire, there bones almost turned to their first mat­ter, dust; whence I drevv this Conclusion, that in all our de­lights and pleasures, vve ought still to remember that we are mortall; no man can promise himself life for a moment, for there is nothing so mean but may prove his executioner, every tile from the house may fall down on our heads and destroy us; every disease, though small, every element though vveak, and every creature, though contemptible, can [Page 110]inflict on us the punishment and ven­geance of a God angry with us for our crying enormities: aut ubi mors non est? how ought we then to live mong all these dangers, every day prepare our selves that we be al­wayes ready, and may not be taken unawares? we should with the holy Father, have this sentence always sounding in our ears, Surge, & veni ad judicium, Arise, and come to judgement: but we are so forget­full of all things that concern our good, that we had need to have one every morning to come to our chamber doore (like the Emperour of Rome) and say, Remember there is a judgement, to which thou mayst be called this day, therefore prepare thy self.

MED. 78.

IF in this life only we had hope in Christ, saith Paul, we were of all men the most miserable: through how great afflictions, how many tri­bulatious do the righteous wade, while they see their wicked enemies live at ease and prosper? 'twere e­nough to stagger their faith, did they not look higher for their reward; they are comforted with this, Since thou in thy life time hadst thy good things, but he his bad; therefore now is he comforted, and thou art tormented: I am glad God will so farre own me for his childe as to chastise me; and I will with joy sub­mit to his punishment, because 'tis fa­therly to correct, and not to destroy; and though the wicked do joy in his deferred punishment, yet let them know, Quod defertur, non aufertur, [Page 102]though God has leaden feet, yet he has iron hands, he will at last strike home, Sera venit, sed certa venit vin­dicta deorum.

MED. 79.

IT is a rule by observation true, that they that feare not to be thought faulty, vvill neither be a­fraid to commit the fault, nor be ashamed to be seen after the fact, they will braze their face against shame, and steele it against the bitter taunts of enraged truth; as little fea­ring the one, as loving the other, but drawing down vengeance on their reduplicated sins. I will do my endeavour not to seeme, much more not to be faulty, and I will never glory in my shame, lest at last I be ashamed of my glory.

MED. 80.

GOod duties are base and trou­blesome to wicked mindes, whiles even violences of evill are pleasant, especially, when by a con­tinued perseverance, sin is perpetra­ted with a feared conscience, yet that very conscience, though it may be without remorse; yet is it not without horor, for there is no wicked man to whom God speaks not, if not to his eare, yet to his heart; and if the same God, who in good ac­cepts the will for the deed, con­demnes the will for the deed in e­vill; with what a severe execution of Justice will he punish them, who commit sin with greediness? He that cares not for the act of his sin, shall care for the smart of his punishment, for the issue of sin is a thousand [Page 104]times more horrible then the act is pleasant.

MED. 81.

I Can never reade that portion of Scripture, vvhere Iacob cunningly gaines the blessing from his brother Esau, and his vaine seeking, and fruitless begging it even with teares; but it drives me to think, how just might God be to cast us off, who sin with so high a hand against him; if vvith Esau we sell our birthright for a messe of pottage, if we forfeit, and that willingly, our everlasting hea­venly inheritance for the deceitfull momentary pleasures of sin, it is but just with God to cast us off as illegi­timate: I will not therefore hunt af­ter worldly pleasures so long with Esau, as to forfeit my blessing for my long stay; ere vengeance begin, [Page 105]repennance is seasonable, but if judgement be once gone out, we cry too late: while the Gospel soli­cites us, the doores of mercy are o­pen, but if we neglect the time of grace, in vaine shall we seek it with teares: God holds it no mercy to pity the obstinate.

MED. 82.

WHy art so heavy, O my soul, and why are thou so discon­tented within me? still trust in God, &c. It is a part of Gods childrens portion to suffer affliction, and we could not be currant coyne in Gods Kingdom, unless we be throughly purified in the fire of distresses: It is not with God as with man, to be paid your wages as soone as your work is done, no, true spirituall com­forts are commonly late and sud­den; [Page 106]the Angel of the Lord neither interrupts, or forbids Abraham in his Sacrifice, till the knife is up, nay even ready to fall downe on the throate of Isaac: Gods charges are many times harsh in the beginnings, and proceeding, but in the conclu­sion alwayes comfortable: I will therefore in all my affliction whol­ly relye upon God by faith, so will he make my recompence glorious, and send me a welcome deliverance out of all my trouble.

MED. 83.

IT is in the soule, as it fares with the body, wherein a wound in it selfe, though great, if timely helps be administred, is easily cu­red, which let alone to fester, and rankle, may not only endanger a limbe, but the whole body: sinne [Page 107]at the first is easily rooted out, but if once it proceed in a custome of sinning, if sinne grow exceeding sinfull, then woe is me, who shall deliver me? I will endeavour to keep this river within his bankes, lest it drown me in its deluge; as I will feare each little vvound for mortall, and so seek a timely cure; so I will take heed of all sinnes, and account none little, because my Saviour dyed for the least; who willingly and knowingly doth the least, vvill fearelessely commit the greatest.

MED. 84.

VVHen I see two Game-Cocks fighting in the pit, and each striving by the death of the other to remaine sole Conquerer, I cannot but take notice of the vaine strifes [Page 108]of great men, who without any cause at all seek the destruction of each other, endeavouring to make great the plumes of his owne am­bition, with the feathers of his ad­versaries downfall, as if it were glo­ry enough to enrich himselfe by o­thers ruines, I am not of that minde: but if I strive to be great, I will desire to be good, for great good­nesse is the best greatnesse, and I will not with Aesops Daw trick up my pride with stollen feathers, least I be served like her, that when eve­ry man takes his owne, I appeare not only naked, but ridiculous.

MED. 85.

HOw great pains vvill we take, & what hardship wil we undergo, to attaine that which we love? Jacob without grudging is content to pay [Page 109]14. yeares service for Rachel; we see the pleasures that God blesses his ovvne children with are not easily attained; yet see, though vve know vice is its own punishment, and ver­tue carries her reward with her self, though we know the fruitfull re­compence of vertue, and the bar­ren uglinesse of vice, yet is barren­nesse in the one, preferred before fertility in the other; I would ra­ther chuse vertue, though accom­panied with tribulation, then vice clad in Scarlet, and faring delici­ously every day; though I desire to enjoy pleasures, yet shall it alwayes be with honest vertue, but I will never seek to buy them with the danger of my soule, nocet empta do­lore voluptas.

MED. 86.

AS sinister respects have oft­times dravvne weak goodnesse to disguise it selfe, even with sinnes, so vitia plerunque virtutis, species in­duunt, vices many times strive to maske them with the name of ver­tue; vvhat farre fetched arguments will the covetous man produce, and all to prove his gaines, (or rather extortion) lawfull, and when his proofes are all confuted, he will re­tire himselfe to this, that 'tis an honest way to get his living; Thus with a specious visor, doth he a­dorne his crime, and sinnes securely, not having one relenting thought, but runnes on head-long to perditi­on; I will never seek to scrape up so many riches, as that my wealth may prove more irkesome to me then my need, or that I should [Page 111]feare, God meanes to punish me more in my superfluity of money, then in the want; I will be jealous of my gaine, and more feare then desire abundance.

MED. 87.

I Can never see a flatterer framing all his actions, and gestures, ac­cording to the humours of whom he flatters, but I thinke the Polypus a fit resembler of such a person, who changes his colours, as often as the various objects he touches doe; Art thou sick, so will he counterfeit him­selfe? art thou prodigall, he will tell thee, it beseemes thy birth? whatever thou dost or sayest, there­after will he frame both his words & actions, till he hath so far compas­sed his own ends, as thou must either trust him, or he will undoe thee; I [Page 112]will not then looke altogether at the outside of a faire word, nor trust too much to the subtle daubings of a cunning flatterer, for outward ap­pearances are but deceitfull guides to our judgement, and they are worthy to be deceived, that value a flatterer above a true friend; a smiling malice is most deadly, and hatred doth most rankle the heart, when it is kept in, and dissembled.

MED. 88.

TO see a beast have any one part of a man, produces in us not only a great, but a just admiration; but to see a man have all the parts of a beast is never taken notice of; to tumble in the mire like a hog, and after amendment, with the dog to returne to his vomit again, is grown to a common custome, though a [Page 113]lewd one. Other sinnes move shame, but hide it; this of drunkenness disco­vers it to all the world, it not only makes imperfections, but shewes those we have to others eyes: A man hath not then so much rule of himselfe as to be ashamed: I will al­wayes shun this vice, which will rob me of my selfe, and lay a beast in my roome, for he that gives him­selfe to wine, is not owne.

MED. 89.

I Have read of a certain man, that came with a resolution to kill a Tyrant, but the stroke intended for his death, opened him a dange­rous Impostume, whereon his Phy­sitions durst not lay their hands; How oft doth the inscrutable provi­dence of God, from injurious and bad causes produce good effects? [Page 114]Was it not a somewhat strange cure, where nothing but danger of death can save ones life? that which one intends for a mischiefe to me, may prove to procure my good, though not to be a benefit; for it is no be­nefit which I am inforced to receive, saith Seneca; neither is it a benefit, that maketh me iudebted to him I would not. If then thou wouldest doe a benefit for me, first, give me the freedome and power of my selfe: for,

Thou good turnes mayst doe, though thy intent
Had in designe to worke some detriment.

MED. 90.

AS God loves a cheerfull giver, so he hates an ingratefull, thank­lesse receiver: with what high pray­ses is the willing gift of the poore widdow remembred, and what a [Page 115]terrible doome is laid upon the husbandmen, who could not other­waies requite the Lord of their Vine­yard, sending for some of his own, then by beating his servants, and killing his sonne: Oh inhumane bar­barisme, that could not afford a good word for the meanes of their livelihood: but no marvel, for he cannot be thankfull, that is willing­ly forgetfull of what he hath re­ceived; but I will receive courtesies with a gladsome countenance, for he that receiveth a good turne with a joyfull thankfulnesse, hath alrea­dy satisfied the first payment of the requitall; but he that carries it in memory, hath already requited it.

MED. 91.

IUstice and clemency are the two maine pillars, that uphold a wel-ru­led [Page 116]Common-wealth; Justice to punish obstinate offenders, and mer­cy to be extended to those that re­pent; what a solitude and desolati­on would there soone be, if all of­fenders were tryed by the strictest rule of Justice? Is there any accuser without his fault? Clemency there­fore is the most assured safe-guard; for cruelty in governours, increas­eth the number of their enemies, by extinguishing them; It is better to have thy Subjects hearts tyed to thee by love, then their bodies, a servile feare; I will alwayes be just, but never severely cruell, and I vvill be mercifull, yet not give a li­berty to sinne: to save is the pro­perty of an excellent fortune; And I know not whether there be any man more difficult to give pardon, then he that hath often deserved to beg the same.

MED. 92.

VVEre I to wish a titular happi­nesse, or did I desire a reall good, it should be this, that I might have a quiet minde, and a con­science voide of feare, with whom, when thou conferrest, it can ac­cuse thee of no base acts; thou need­est no other inditement for sinne, then what thine owne conscience will preferre; The killing of a nest of young Swallowes will produce an answer to convict thee of Parri­cide.

Feare, suffering, sinne, are fellowes; conscience will
Accuse thee daily for fore-acted ill.

MED. 93.

SOlanten miseris socios habuisse dolor is. If it be a comfort in afflictions to [Page 118]have a partner of our griefe, how much greater is it to thinke, that what hath happened to him, all that went before him have suffered, and all that shall come after must endure; for is there any man so proudly arrogant, that will think to have himself exempted out of the ranke of all others? can any man discharge some one house from that ruine, which shall destroy the whole world? therefore saith Seneca, hath Nature made that most common, which is most grievous, to the end that the equality thereof might in some sort lenefie the cruelty of the fate. I will therefore in my sorrow alway observe this measure, that it neither run into impiety or folly, and I will contain me in that habit which becomes a quiet; and not di­sturbed minde, though my teares shall flow, yet at last shall they stay, and though my sighes shall pro­ceede [Page 119]from the bottome of my heart, yet shall they have an end.

MED. 94.

THe ample revenews [...] [...]ince, if it come (as we say) into Huck­sters hands, consumes and goes a­way in a moment, when the hun­dredth part thereof, well managed and husbanded, would rather en­crease then prove scarse. Wen I think of this, I cannot but blame those who cry out of the shortness of their life, which is not short indeed, but that we lose so much of it, so that I may say with the Poet, A little part of our life it is we live: And ma­ny men die before they are ready to depart the world. Why then, vaine man, livest thou so, as if thou hadst a warrant to live for ever: Lord, teach me to number my dayes, that I may [Page 120]apply my heart unto wisdom. Since all that is to come is uncertain, I will live out of hand, I will not forget the time past, neglect that is present, nor fear that which is to come, lest when it is come, I finde that I have been way busie in doing nothing.

MED. 95.

GRatia ab officio quod mora tardat, abest, the goodness of the bene­fit is half wanting, when we delay the doing of it; for the expectation of things, how good soever they be, is both tedious and displeasant: true liberality is quick & expidite, and it is the property of him that doth wil­lingly, to do quickly; as it is said, Bis dat, qui citò dat; he has, at it were, done a good turne twice, who does it in time; so he that willeth a thing too late, does as it were, not will it [Page 121]at all; I will never give later then I should do, and weary out both time and occasion, before I assist and succour the indigent, lest my actions should witness against me, that I ne­ver had a will to do him good.

MEd. 96.

AN antient Philososper seeing an ingratefull man prosper, taxed Nature of partiality, in that she had laded a thistle with fruit, ingratitude being both loathsome in it self, and hateful in all mens opinions; where a good turne is not only forgotten, but denyd: faulty are those eyes that feare the light, but blinde certainly are they that see not at all: of all men, I cannot but most hate and wonder at an unthankfull person, since to re­quite is so easie a matter. Art thou a niggard, thou shalt not need to [Page 122]drain thy purse, thou mayst requite without expence; or art thou sloth­full, thou mayst sit with folded arms, and take thy repose, thou maist without labour satisfie for a good turn: for (Seneca saith) in that very moment, wherein thou art ob­lieged, if thou listest, thou mayst make even with any man whatsoe­ver, because he who hath willing­ly received a benefit, hath restored the same.

MED. 97.

HOdie Craesus, cras Irus, though thou sittest to day on a throne, thy Will standing for Law, and do­minering with a proud tyranny over thy inferiors, thou mayst to morrow lye with Job on a dunghill; see the inconstancy of fickle fortune, making, as it were, a tennisball of [Page 123]the world; who would be a servant to so wavering a Mistress? who vvould rely on that which is con­stant to nothing but inconstancy? I will therefore bare my affliction like my self, as one subject to chance, but resolved in the change of my fortune; though I may bewaile my fortune; though I may bewaile my fortune, and lament my fall, yet will I not dismay my self, since I know that all corporall damages, that betide mortall men, are either by means remedied, by patience suf­fered, by reason rectified, by time cured, or by death ended; there is a power above the capacity of men, and comfort may descend beyond the expectation of men.

MED. 98.

WHen I see a sealed Dove mount to such an aspiring height, as if it would seeme to reach at the very heaven it self, on a sudden fall down like a dead and senseless carcass: It presently brings to my minde the soaring ambition of a high minded person, whose minde being sealed with popular applause, makes him, Icarus-like, with those waxen wings, to dare, even at Maje­stie it self, till at last, the Sun, either of envy or dislike, dissolve the con­joyning wax, & he falls down head­long into the sea, both of comtempt and despair, yet who is frightned with his misery? how soone will an­other step into his roome, and even strive to out-vie his greatness, till the storme of a frowne shiprack him? What clog heavy enough to keep [Page 125]down ambitious thoughts? nothing can outballance ambitious desire: though it is full of pleasure in its beginning and rise, yet is its end cruell, and downfall sudden.

While each thing stayes within his proper sphear,
It neither danger breeds to 't self, nor fear.

MED. 99.

PRovidence prevents-misfortunes, and gives life to future actions; but rashness is the mother of ill-luck, and not only blasts promising en­terprises, but nips them in the bud. Is it not a piece of the greatest folly to requite an imagined wrong with an effectuall mischiefe? I will look at my present being, not a pro­mised, for promises of advancement are no assurances of enrichment; and he hath a short understanding, that will lose certain favors for uncertain [Page 126]riches: I will not be either carelesly, or overtimerously suspitious what may sinisterly or suddenly succeed, but I will be heedfull of the hazard, lest any oversight may cross my designed endeavours, and so make me both hapless and helpless.

MED. 100.

DImidium facti, qui bene caepit ha­bet: though it were said of old, He has done the better half of his work that hath begun well, yet we know; that non progredi est regredi, he that goes not forword, goes back­ward; it were as good he had never set out, who sits down in the midst of his journey; Iacobs ladder hath many steps; its not enough to begin to be good, but to proceed in goodness. It is as true as common, that exitus [Page 127]acta probat, the glory of a thing lies in its ending: It was a law in Rome, that when a souldier was fifty years old, he should no more beare arms; A Senator having attained to threescore years, was no more bound to attend the Senate: what should be the reason, but that after the tur­moyles of their tedious life, being freed from the cares of the world, they might think of their end? I like the Law well, but yet I will not fol­low it wholly, for I will not put off the thought of my death till old age, but will alwayes prepare for it: since ever to meditate on my end, is the best end of my Meditations.

FINIS.

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