That Love in its self, is not a Vice, but the Soul of all Vertues, when it is tyed to its proper Object [which is the Soveraign Good.]

NEver shall the soul of man act any thing great in this world, if he retain not holy fire in his veins; since from the beginning of the world, all things are held together by this Divine tye [Concord;] which in its union causeth the happiness of all things; and those sacred influences of Love, have woven eternal chains to tye [indissolubly] all the parts of the Ʋniverse. True joy is nothing else but a satisfaction of the soul, in enjoying what it loves; neither is the accomplish­ment of Pleasure, any thing but the presence, possessi­on, and fruition of the good which is known to us, and which we love.

We cannot have one silly spark of love for God, unless it be inspired into us by himself: That which the Ayr is in the Elementary world, the Sun in the Celestial, and the Soul in the Intelligible, the same is he throughout All; He is the Ayr, which all the af­flicted desire to breathe in; the Sun, which dispelleth all our clouds; the Soul, which giveth life to all things: and therefore, he that is thus the Lover of our souls, ought really to be the object with which our soul ought everlastingly to be in love.

And oh, how happy are they who entertain this [Page 7]chaste and spiritual love for things Divine! who em­brace the wisdom of heaven, which is so far beyond all humane Beauties, as the light of the Stars surpass the petty sparklings, and flitting fires of the earth: but miserable are those who mount not above the flatte­ries, and fading Beauty of the world!

From hence it was, that the beauties of Solomon's Mistresses were no sooner adored, but that [through the neglect of his former Zeal and Courage] Idols were worshipped: That Sampson was no sooner blinded with love, but that Dalilah forthwith blinded the eyes of his reason and body together. Hence was it that David paid so dear for that unhappy cast of his eye on Bathsheba; all which, God is pleas'd to place as broken masts on the top of a mountain, to make others take heed of the shipwracks of love.

And great care surely ought to be taken in the whole course and progress of our life; sin being usu­ally killed by flying the occasions of it: Absence, re­sistance, coldness, silence, labour, and diversion, have overcome many assaults of the enemy; solitude of heart, fasting, prayer, and the Word of God, are wea­pons of an excellent force, and which the Word teacheth us to use in our conflicts.

And sure, it imports us much to fight valiantly, and to bring with us the hearts of Lions: what honour can we expect by yeilding to the first Temptation? How many Martyrs have been roasted in burning flames, because they would not speak an ill word. Let us con­sider also the Crown we shall get at last, by fixing our love aright. If God be the Essence of Essences, why do we please our selves by making so many nothings? [Page 8]If God be a Spirit, why should we our selves be per­petually fixed to carnal pleasures, which only flatter, to strangle us? Why should not the day yeild up all our thoughts to him? Why should the night, which seemeth made to arrest the agitations of our spirit, any way raze the remembrance of him from our heart?

Oh the unconquerable fire of holy love, that can neither be quenched with many waters, nor drowned with mighty floods! but (like the Ark in the Deluge) by how much the waters swell higher, by so much the more it ascendeth towards the place of its birth, and first original [the bosome of him who is the Author and Father of it.]

Did we but behold all humane things from the top of the Palace of eternity, O how would they seem like rotten pieces; yea, alas! How often would the hea­vens and the elements conspire against thy affections, which thou hast so unworthily, and disasterously pla­ced! Or did we but see the miseries attending us in the violent pursuit of our desires, who (alas!) is it, who would enter into this Hell of torment, to rob himself of the joys of chastity, and to live (like Ixion) on the wheel of Eternal vexation. Were it not much bet­ter to throw away this frantick love, this troublesome curiosity, this rashness of judgement, and all that fo­menteth and nourisheth so ill a passion?

O my God! Make me from henceforth to enter in­to the bottom of my soul, and to silence all those tem­pting and troublesome creatures, these inordinate af­fections, which so often bereave me of the happiness of thy sight, and my eternal welfare! O thou which canst draw Being out of the Abyss of nothing, and [Page 9]bring the shades of death into light, make me to put a difference between true love, and concupiscence; the which (being once enjoyed) dies, and is ofter re­solved into the smoak of disgrace, and the ashes of hate; whereas the other is still more ardent towards the thing beloved, by possessing and enjoying it!

O unexhaustible Fountain of all Beauty! whither shall I go to quench those violent distempers and wic­ked thirst (kindled within my soul) but to thee (O Sa­viour!) who canst shew me my stains, and give me water to wash them: to thee who only canst quench those in-lets of sin, with the tears of repentance.

O then, melt that heart which hath retained so ma­ny vain and lustful thoughts, in the sacred Limbeck of thy Love! and distil it out by my eyes! Why should any impure thoughts pollute that soul which thou hast sanctified? Why should any profane words pollute that Tongue, which thou hast commanded to be the Organ of thy Praises? Why should any unchaste acti­on rend the vail of that Temple, wherein thou hast pleased to enter, and chusest for thy habitation?

And thrice happy shall all those be, who can seal up all their senses from vain objects, and suffer them to be wholly possessed with Religion; fortified with pru­dence, watchfulness, and mortification; and have bound up their eyes and heart from all strange and disorderly affections; and have so far watered them with the smoak which ariseth from the fire of this worlds prosperity, as to finde delight in nothing here below, neither to prefer any thing before the hopes and expectation of celestial glory.

Of the Nature and Qualities of Divine Love, and wherein it exceeds all other Love.

ALL things here below being transitory and frail, little is the support we can find in them, until God hath poured his holy Love into our heart, which can alone purifie our life, and eternize our Souls. It is he which inspireth the love with which he will be loved: It is his gift alone by which we love him above all, and all for him. God in the first place gives us a taste of his Word, and makes us to taste sweetness therein; and he only it is who gives us good resolu­tions towards the amendment of our life.

Consider then (O Soul! redeemed with the blood of the Son of God) that thou canst not live without Love; since on what side soever thou turnest, thou must necessarily love; and God (who is the Author of Love, and makes of the lightnings thereof, erupti­ons, whereby to communicate himself to man) seeing this necessity, would that thou take the object of his love, for the object of thy own, who is altogether love­ly, neither is there spot or blemish in him.

And (O my soul!) when thou hast heedfully con­templated his Beauty, strive to finde a reciprocal love enkindled in thy breast towards him, who loved thee, when there was nothing lovely in thee; who made no love to Beauties, to gold, or greatness, but loved thy very poverty and miseries.

From this Love it is, that we are diligent and assi­duous in praying to him; that we endeavour the keeping of our Conscience unspotted, that sin is [Page 11]weakned, his Law observed, our lusts abated; that humane considerations, and all the respects of flesh and blood are trod under foot; yea, that we account all things worse then a Dunghil, to gain Jesus Christ. Hence further it is, that we are patient in adversities, that we embrace the Cross, that we love our enemies, and do good to those that persecute us.

Behold the accomplishment also of true love, left us in the pattern of our blessed Saviour, who made himself the highest example thereof, in laying down his life to save us. Few there are, who in an unshaken constancy persevere till death: we read indeed of strange examples of Amity and Affection between † Luci. Toxorh. friends, as of him who left his whole family in a fire, to carry [...]ut his dearest Friend on his shoulders; of another, who gave his own eyes for the ransom of him he tenderly affected.

We finde mention also of many Women, tyed with the indissoluble chains of vertuous inclinations: As Valeria, who said, Though her husband were dead to others, he was not so to her. Of Sulpitia, who (in spite of her Mother) broke doors and locks to run after her banished Husband. Of Eponina, many years shut up with her Husband in a hollow Tomb. Of Mithridates Queen, who in the midst of all his Ca­ptains, followed him through snows, storms, and wil­dernesses. But especially of Mary Magdalen [that mirrour of Love, and ardent affection] whose soul dissolved and melted with spiritual languor, on the heart of her beloved Saviour.

We read also of some who have licked whole the envenomed wounds of their Husbands, who have [Page 12]breathed out their last upon the Graves of those who first gave them heart and affections; and of those who have forsaken all their friends, renounced their for­tunes, and exposed themselves to the greatest hazards envie or time could bring upon them. But alas! saith the poor soul, what is all this, if heaped together, to the love of my Saviour? How far is it from that bea­tifical love? How small a drop to that Deluge of his mysterious and adorable love?

Now those that desire to profit in this love, must by fervent prayer beg it of God, they must value and esteem it above all earthly things, and apply all their actions thereunto, since it will no way be entertained in a soul sullyed with worldly and terrestrial affecti­ons. They must render him fervency and earnestness in all their meditations and devotion; no hour must pass without some ejaculation; in all companies we must publish his greatness: we must refer all objects, all creatures to his love, and love nothing but in him, and for him; yea, we must engrave all his words, wounds, and actions in the bottom of our hear.

And O that we could often present unto our selves (as the principal means whereby we may come to this heavenly obedience) that infinite love of Jesus Christ! Oh that we could here be raised on the high­est Region of Grace, and poize our selves on the wings of Faith, there being no tongue so eloquent, no pen so learned, sufficiently to express it. But oh the deadness and dulness of our spirits! Could we but here reflect, and a little lift up our eyes [surcharged with so many earthly humours and vanities] to be­hold that president which he hath given for the rule [Page 13]of our Love, What secrets? What mysteries of love should we there finde? What greatness and purity must we needs conceive therein? And oh how much shame ought we then to have, so to defile our love with the impurities of the earth?

This, this alone, is it which hath made many for­sake the shaddows of Diadems, and Scepters, which so easily deceive the credulity of the most passionate­ly ambitious, by their fond illusions, and have thereby attain'd Renown on earth, and a Crown in heaven. These are Celestial fires, which ever proceed from God, as being their proper Sphere. It is he that be­getteth them, and breedeth them; being no way constrained to descend upon earth, to seek nourish­ment from perishing creatures.

Those (indeed) which seek nothing in the world, but sensual pleasures, which are more thin then smoak, and lighter then Wind, cannot imagine how much these fair amities (which are the daughters of Vertues) nourish holy delights. The love of God (saith one) is an influence of Eternity, because com­ing from an Eternal God. It is rather inspired, then studied: It is given to us by the favour of heaven. Though good Books and Discourses contribute much to this purpose, yet they who think to learn the love of God only by precepts, have little in them that is solid.

And those Lovers who have the ardours of hea­ven, who entertain chaste and spiritual love for things divine, partake of those pleasures which the jealous eye cannot espye, the slanderous tongue cannot hite: And when we thus love God, we finde him every [Page 14]where, we serve him every where, and every where meet with the recompence of our services: we may Jonah (with Jonah) cry unto him out of the Whales 2.2. Belly, as from a Chappel; and talk with him (with the three children in the midst of flames, Dan. 3.25. Surely, to love truly, is to love aloft, and to love him who made us; when once we are come thus far, we shall finde all the greatness of the world lower then our feet.

Let us not then put a Balm so precious, into an unclean Vessel: Let us retain no Idols, or passions in our hearts, to oppose or withstand this excellent Guest. Let us entertain this Love with all the strength and vigour of our heart and soul, yea, make it our continual practice.

Shall we set our Affections so eagerly on the de­spicable and inconsiderable affairs of the world? Shall we slight a matter of so great importance as the love of God? Shall worldly Lovens espouse all occasions, use all ways and diligence, transform themselves into all shapes and humours; pass through fire, ice, tears, blood, fearful Torrents, enraged Seas, enflamed Ser­pents, to attain their hearts wish, and arive at the least of their desires, and pretensions; and shall not we with the greatest applications of minde and soul, use all possible industry to profit in a more divine and heavenly Love?

O shameful reproach! That all this should be done for a vain and worldly love, which ends always in bit­terness, and endangers our souls; and there is none but Jesus [who is chiefly to be loved] for whom we will not stir a hand or a foot! Out alas! Why are we [Page 15]so blinde as to love servitude, and to make a Goddess of the Worlds Beauties? Why should we make it our glory to sacrifice our Liberty, and kiss the Fetters of our slavery?

Alas! How dear doth it cost us to destroy our poor souls? Did the man of uncleanness but think, that whiles he is in the embraces of his fulsome Mistris, that his soul is waited on by death, and death by eter­nity? Did he but think that those eyes which did burn in Lust, should in a bottomless Furnace be scorched with Brimstone; That those ears, which here were wont to wanton it with Minstrels, shall there be filled with nothing else but the groans of Divels, and the shrill screetches of the damned; that the Tongue which delighted in the relation of fond and idle Stories, should there cry out for water to cool it; and the whole Body, which was here clo­thed in rich and fantastique garbs, should be hereafter enwrapped in a mantle (at once of darkness, and yet) of flames; and the Voice, which here was taken up with the Songs and Ditties of Love, should there no­thing but complain of Torments: Would he (I say) but consider all this, it were impossible, that he which thus loves pleasure, and cannot endure to be torment­ed, should delight to thrust himself into the fire; or, that he which fears to lose one drop of blood, should delight in the wounding of his whole Body.

Stand amazed then (O poor Soul!) and bewail thy self, that thou shouldest no better value so inesti­mable a favour as thy Saviours love; and resolve for the remaining part of thy life, to be crucified unto all those Objects of pleasure, profit, and honour, which have heretofore transported thee!

[Page 16]O sweet Jesus! Thy Beauties are without stain, and shall I be of the number of those souls which are di­stasted with Manna? Shall I languish after the Ony­ons of Aegypt? O make me rather (dear Saviour!) to sanctifie all that is esteemed profane! If my Eyes have been the cause to entertain fond love, O let them now become Vessels of Water, to wash away the spots of all unchaste glances: If my Hairs have been Nets to captivate any soul under the yoke of wanton Love, O let them be trampled under feet, as the Ensigns and Standards of wicked Cupid. Let those Embraces which carried nothing but the poyson of a luxurious passion, now clasp him, under whose shelter I shall eternally rest secure. Briefly, let me breathe nothing but the delicacies of Chastity, and let those pleasing Odours which were once vowed to sensuality, at last become the sweetest exhalation of odoriferous persume at the Altar of my Saviour; that so I may practise a sanctified revenge on my self, and my Repentance never end but with my life.

That our love to God ought to precede and exceed all other Loves.

SO many and great are the delights and entice­ments of the Flesh, the Divel, and the World, to withdraw man's love from God, as that he hath not only imprinted in his heart, that he was solely to love his Creator; but such was his infinite goodness [to the end man might never forget it] as to leave him his spiritual Law, written in Tables of Stone, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all [Page 17]thy soul, and with all thy might, Deut. 6. Neither do we finde any Law or Precept so strongly and largely enjoyn'd, as this; binding the heart, tongue, hand, eyes, and the faculties of our soul to love God.

How then can we answer our own Soul without blushing here, or without confusion or condemnation at the last day? Or, can we render any thing less then love? Can any price be set too high for so infinite a ransome, whereby both soul and body [forfeited by our sins to Satan, and eternal Hell fire] are freed, through the shameful tortures, the disgraceful usage, and cruel murthering of a merciful Saviour?

Had God (as justly he might) in return of his infi­nite love, commanded thee to offer unto him all thy Wealth, to sacrifice all thy Children (as some Hea­then have done, and) as once he tempted Abraham. Had he required thee with stripes and fastings, to mortifie and kill thy body. Had he commanded boun­ty to the poor, the poor man might have said, I can­not give it: If labour or fasting, the sick and infirm, (or if knowledge, the simple) might have said, I have them not in my power. But if in lieu of all this, he require only that which is the least [thy love] and which without expence, pain, or labour, thou mayest easily afford, O my soul! How canst thou make a bet­ter purchase, then (by love) to make God, Heaven, and Earth to be wholly thine?

All that God Courts and Wooes man for, is his Heart; Prov. 23.26. and wilt thou not grant him this desire, O my soul? He might have required all thy substance, all thy actions, to be spent in his im­mediate service, and worship. He grants thee thy [Page 18]wealth, and the fruits of thy honest labour, and bids thee give only what thou canst best spare of all thy Increase; he takes only a Tenth, and from all thy worldly labours only a sevonth part; Love, and the affection of thy heart being all that he entirely calls for.

Thy blessed Saviour so highly valued this Treasure of love, as that (even then when he was to depart and leave the world) he left it [as his last Will and Testament] to his Disciples, and that, as he had loved them, so they should love one another, John 13.34. Ah! saith he (being at the last point, as it were be­fore his Possion) to his Disciples [and in them to us] my time is but short, and I finde death approaching, before which, I have one only remembrance to give you, That you love one another. It was not long be­fore that he desired them, that, If they did love him, they would keep his Commandments: Love being as it were the Embassadour of God, and hath not only proclaimed the Fulfilling of the Law, (Rom. 13.10.) but (as our Saviour himself pronounced) thereon de­pends the Law, and the Prophets.

O then (my God! my Jesus!) make me to keep the Law of thy Love, and nothing else: Thy love is a yoke which brings with it more honour then burden: It is a yoke that hath no weariness in it. O my sweet Saviour; My soul is weary, and greatly distasted with all the fading delights of this transitory world, and doth incessantly languish after thee! Shew me then my stains, and give me water to wash them out. Let the night cease to cast a dark Vail over my mortal body; but let the Sun be advanced high, and the [Page 19]break of day begin to guild the mountains, where my Soul hovereth, and is ashamed to see its self so dark before light, and smutted over before thy immortal whiteness. Alas! I am altogether but one stain, and thou art all purity; do not [however] write me on the ground, as a childe of the earth, but write me in hea­ven, since I am the portion which thou hast purcha­sed with thy precious blood.

Thy love is the Center of all our true love, on which our heart (as on the point of a Compass) being set, the other part moves about the Circumference of the World. Is it not the Almighty, whose mercies are without number? Where hath it been well with us without him? Or, How can it be ill with us where he is present? I had rather (saith one) be a Pilgrim here on earth with him, then be in heaven without him. And blessed then sure are they, who delight to attend his service, and cast from him all the fetters and impe­diments of worldly love.

For what will all things avail, if we be forsaken of our Creatour? Can we live without the Fountain of Life? All places are solitary where he is not; and where he is, there only is fulness of pleasure. O Je­sus! the author of all Glories, henceforth be unto me my only Crown! For, oh how vain is the rest and so­lace of man! who (though nothing brings joy and comfort without God, and that he finds so little en­tertainment in all worldly treasures, as that the vanity in possession will soon reprove the violence of his ap­petite) is notwithstanding still sullying himself in the puddles thereof!

How often do we cry out (with the perverse Jews) [Page 20]not Christ, but Barrabas; not God, but Mammon? How often (with the Idolatrous Israelites) do we say of our Covetousness, Honours, Greatness, and the rest of our Lusts, Ye are our Gods? whereas alas! God cannot endure that one Temple should receive both his Ark and the Idol Dagon. He will not have the Divel, the Flesh, and the World, should come in and lodge in his Bed-chamber [thy heart] it being but just with God to require it; But oh! how unreasonable art thou in dividing it between him, and his enemies; between God, and Baal; between Light, and Dark­ness? 1 Cor. 6.14.

Fond Worldlings! Can you be so great enemies to your souls, as (being once unloosed from slavery) to sigh, wither, and languish for your fetters? for shame then forsake the love of these poor Cottages, these fading pleasures, these little Ant-hills, which enflame thy heart. Thy Country is no longer Earth, behold the great Globe of Heaven all replenished with glo­rious Lights; why do we so extreamly torment our poor life, running after this worlds shadows, which we cannot follow without trouble, nor possess with­out fear, nor lose without sorrow.

He that cloaths the flowers of the Meadows more gorgeously then Monarchs, who lodgeth so many lit­tle Fishes in golden and azure shells: He who but o­peneth his hand, and replenisheth all Nature with his blessings, will never forsake us at our need, if we love him, and keep his Commandments. A man that must die, needs very few worldly things, but whole King­doms will not satisfie covetousness. O my God? Shall I always then fly after that which flies from me, [Page 21]and never follow Jesus, who follows me, and even loves me when I am ungrateful? Ah no more let me run after the vanishing Beauties of a deceitful world!

Our love to Jesus should be like the Needle in the Seamans Chard, which (though it be ever moving and casting about as it were to several parts) yet it still re­turns and retains its whole setled course to the true Pole-star. It should be like the Oak, the Hart, and the Elephant, which (as Naturalists observe, are long liv'd, and not like Pincks, Roses, and Tulips [flowers of sight and smell, but] delightful only for a few hours.

If you will examine King David (the man after Gods own heart) he will tell you, he hath conquered the Bear and the Lyon, and that great Gyant Goliah, yet was not satisfied: He had stept from a Sheep fold to a Crown, yet was not contented. He had subdued all his Enemies and Rebels, yet had he no rest, until he enjoyed Heaven; I have a goodly Heritage (saith he) but the Lord is the fulness of my Inheritance, in whose presence there is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand there are pleasures for evermore; Psal. 16. And therefore it is that he again saith, Psal. 73.24. There is none O Lord, upon earth, that I desire in comparison of thee.

We finde all sublunary bodies compounded of the four Elements, and all the goods of the Body, redu­ced to four heads: First, Life, under which we under­stand health, strength, and beauty of Body. Secondly Honour, under which may be comprised Titles, Offi­ces, Priviledges, and Retinue. Thirdly, Wealth, Lands, Money, and Revenues have place. Fourthly, Plea­sures, [Page 22]which are as various as there are objects of our senses, pleasing to our taste, sight, touch, hearing, and smell. Now, though all these [ordinately desired, and lawfully used] may be both useful and lawful, yet are they not able to satisfie the soul, longer then a wind or lightning. And therefore man should not, (and indeed truly he cannot) set his love upon them.

And alas! O poor soul! What canst thou finde in all other loves, which prove no other then that of Sampson, who paid so dearly for relying on his tre­cherous Dalilah; or as the Prodigals Lovers in the Gospel, who (like Mice, Whores, and Swallows,) make love, and frequent the house in the Summer of prosperity; or like Lice, who continue no longer then there is sweat to nourish them, but in the end, (like Actaeon's hounds) prove your destroyers. The like we finde of Job's friends, and of those the Pro­phet mentions, Isa. 1.23. Who loved gifts, and fol­lowed after Rewards.

Not much unlike to those, were the seeming friends of King David, of whom he so often com­plains, and prays against, as being of his Council, and eating his bread, Psal. 54. yet while they had butter and oyl on their lips, their hearts and tongues were spears, swords, and very poyson: And as these to David were more dangerous then his publique enemies [for of those (saith he) I could have taken heed] so are all the false Loves of Delight, Feature, Beauty, or other parts or gifts; Yea, their Loves are like the Apples of Sodom, or like that creature called Acucena, which at twice handling, yeilds out an ill savour; or as the flowers of the Garden, which long hold neither co­lour nor scent.

[Page 23]Ye then which cry, Come and let us crown our selves with Roses, Let us eat, drink, and take our fill of love, Ah! How suddenly are you and your loves vanished, And your place no where to be found! How do ye starve (like Tantalus) in the midst of all your glory and a­bundance? How doth that which seemeth so much to encrease your felicity, occasion your punishment? Yea, How doth the pain you meet with, mix gall and bitterness with all the sweet appearances of the world?

What wanted Solomon of all the desireable things under heaven? He had seven hundred Wives, and three hundred Concubines; He built himself stately Palaces, adorn'd them with variety of Orchards and Gardens; He had Attendants answerable to his Wealth and Glory; yet when he weighed all toge­ther, instead of proclai [...]ing himself happy, he cryed out, All is but vanity, and vexation of spirit: Prov. 1.1. How great then, alas! is our folly, to seek and expect our happiness here, in the best enjoyments, and most pleasing delights the world holds forth unto us?

Sit no longer then, O my Soul! by the fire of earthly comforts, where the cold of carn I fears and sorrows do still afflict thee; Wilt thou house thy self still on worldly thoughts, and confine thy self to worldly dulness? Away with those Soul-torment­ing cares and fears! Away with those Heart-vexing worldly sorrows! Stand by a little! O forbear to trouble my aspiring soul, whilst I look up, and see my eternal happiness; whilst I lay aside my mourn­ing robes, and partake the joys of an everlasting Spring!

[Page 24]Happy change! to leave these clods of earth, and perpetually enjoy the glory of the Sun! Blessed Conquest! to tryumph on earth, and enjoy heaven; to conquer death, and enjoy life; to withdraw thy love from a wretched world, and wholly fix it on thy Saviour, the Fountain of all true love and goodness. O that I were able! O that I could feelingly say, I love thee!

But ah Lord! What is a Feast without an appetite? Thou must give me a stomack as well as meat; Thou mayst set the Dainties of Heaven before me, but alas! I am blinde, and cannot see them; I am sick, and can­not relish them; I am benummed, and cannot receive them: O then [thou Spirit of Life!] breathe thy Graces upon me! Take me by the hand, and lead me up from earth to thy self, that I may see by faith what thou hast laid up for them that love and wait for thee.

That the Soul can take pleasure in nothing, until it meet with satisfaction from its Maker.

GOd having concluded our salvation in Love, shews us, that the best and speediest way to be happy, is to love him, who is the Author of our feli­city, and the immoveable Sun, about which so many changes, and agitations of all Creatures circumvolve, which continually groan, and aim at this first Beauty, as the true Center of everlasting repose.

Oh, this is the most assured way to arive to tran­quility! It is a Treasure which will be infinitely pro­fitable, if we can tell how to attain it. It taketh hearts which (as yet) are but of earth and clay, and [Page 25]enkindleth them with a divine flame: It beats them under the hammer of Tribulations and sufferings, to make them fit for their Saviours reception: Yea, it makes fit vessels of them, worthy to be placed above the chiefest of terrene enjoyments.

We finde Love indeed divided into many branches, to wit, Natural love, which consisteth in things inani­mate, having their sympathies and antipathies; as the Amber draws the Straw; the Adamant, Iron; and as Trees and Plants bend or decline one from ano­ther. Next, Animal Love, is that beginning which giveth motion to the sensitive appetite of Beasts, to see that which is fit for them, and to take pleasure therein. Reasonable Love, is that which seeketh and accepteth the good represented by the Under­standing. But alas! What are all these to that Di­vine and Angelical Love, by whose sides are lodged Beauty, and Goodness, which make up all loves; the soul of man being able no where to fix it self, until it re-ascend to God.

It is the nature of Quicksilver to tremble up and down, and never leaveth, until it have found Gold, wherewith to mingle it self: so boundeth and leap­eth the heart of man, here and there, in all its trou­bles and disturbances, there being nothing but Ebbs and Floods in it, until such time as it is united to its Creator, as being the Temple of all repose.

There only it is that the Banished finde a Country, the Poor a Patrimony, the Ignorant Knowledge, the Feeble, Support; the Sick, Health; and the Afflict­ed, Comfort. It is that only which immortalizeth us after death, and gives us light in our darkest affairs. [Page 26]It is that alone which is the sanctity of all humane hearts, the comfort of our souls, the repose of life, and the knot of all felicities.

And what is the cause that the blessed are never weary of loving, but that they perpetually finde in God new Beauties and Perfections. The body of man is finite, and quickly thrusts out all its qualities, which with time doth rather fade then flourish: but our soul, in some sort, tendeth to infinity. Oh what sweetness! Oh what an earnest of the life of the blessed, is that Love which is inviolably grounded upon Vertue and Holiness; upon heaven, and the Beauty thereof?

Whereas [on the contrary] when we wax cold in the love of God, and in the exercise of Devotion, taking too much liberty in our conversation with such things as we affect, how insensibly do we finde our selves surprized by the eyes, and ears, the heart, the gesture, the smiles, the speech; yea, the whole carriage of any, who lays a Plot with our passion to betray our Reason. How do we dote, wax pale, cry to the woods and mountains, one hour we write, another we blot, then tear out all; our repast is unpleasant and irksom, and repose (which charmeth all the cares of the world) seems not made for us. So doth the poyson of Love spread it self over all our Veins. Absence, unquietness, and disturbance of minde, ever keeps waking the imagination. Still our fair one [still our cruel one] tormenteth us, and God makes a whip for us, of that thing we most affect.

How wretched then are those poor souls, who seek for pleasure in their affections? As that of Eloquence, of Poesie, of Musick, ingenious sports, and witty jests, [Page 27]since these (though for a time sweet to the sense) are subject to the diversity of Ages, Humours Seasons, and Employments. If we consult with History, how ma­ny millions of Lovers shall we finde, who complain of the infidelity of their Mistresses, and those they seem to adore? But the Love placed upon heavenly objects, never fails to make an answerable return.

It is from thence that the blood is enflamed, the body weakned, the colour changed; That the eyes grow hollow, the senses stupified, and the whole body overthrown. And though there be diversities of Love, in some sharp and violent, in others dull and cloudy, in others light and wanton, in others turbulent and per­plexed, and in others weak, soppish, fantastique, and inconstant; yet (as if somthing of Idolatry adhered to it) how do all seem to Deifie the creature of whom they are so passionately enamoured, and would willingly place it amongst the Sun, Stars, and Altars; yea, they would die a hundred times for it [chains, and wounds being accounted honourable] so it throw but so much as a handful of Flowers, or distil but one poor Tear on their Tomb.

And as for affections, purely Conjugal, you shall finde them now adays very rare; and for Celestial loves, they are much more scarce: But for the love of Fan­tasie, the love of sensuality, of servitude, of fury, on what side soever you turn your face, you shall not fail to meet them, though nothing be beautiful, or to be affected in the best of them.

Surely, a small Circle (since Volumns are not suffici­ent) will not shew you the Essence, the Causes, the Symptoms, sorts, and effects of Love; neither the in­constancy [Page 28]and fickleness thereof. Some feign it to be the Sun of the Wind, to signifie (it may be) the wa­vering and diversified colours thereof, appearing in the beginning all in Rubies, Diamonds, and Eme­ralds over our heads; but afterwards to cause storms and tempests, discovering it self first with such bright semblances to our senses, whilest it occasions much corruption in our mindes.

Insomuch, that if we do but observe one which is transfixed with violent Love, we shall finde he hath all that in his love, which Divines have placed in Hell; namely, Darkness, Flames, the worm of Conscience, an evil savour, and banishment from the presence of God: He sometimes entereth into quakings, some­times into faintings; one time into fits of fire, and another time into ice.

If I go about to fetter Love (saith one) it gets out of my hands; if I will judge it, it grows into favour with me; when I intend to punish it, it flatters me; if I will fly from it, it seems tied to me; when I destroy it with one hand, I repair it with the other; if it be too much cherished, it assaults me more violently; if watch­ing withers it, sleep pampereth it; by treating it ill, I endanger my life, by pampering it too much, I incur death.

Briefly, Love enters into the most secret places, which seem inaccessible, but to Spirits and Lightnings. It bewitcheth the minde, dislocateth the brain, and eclipseth the reason: All that the Lover beholdeth, all that he meditateth on, all he dreameth, all he speak­eth of, is the Creature he loveth: He hath her in his head, his heart, he carves her into the most pleasing [Page 29] forms, he fears, he hopes, he despairs, he sighs, he groans and blusheth, yea, he never takes rest.

If Beauty then, of it self, be so much to be dread­ed, when it hath no other companions, how dange­rous, think you is it, when Pomp of Apparel, attra­ctives, dalliances, cunning wiles, freedom of conver­sation, height of diet, courting, musick, idleness, night-watchings, solitude, and other incitements, are joyned to it? Surely, we need require no other charms to work the ruine of a Soul.

And since fond Love thus sets our reason to sale (if it carefully take not heed) and insensibly draweth it to its side, and thereby fighteth against our selves, making use of our members, as of the instruments of its bat­tels, and the organ of its wiles; since (without the singular grace of God) it causeth Sedition within, War without, and never any true repose: Since we have all one Domestick Enemy, which is our own Body, that perpetually (almost) opposeth the dispositions of the spirit, how great should be our resistance? how notable our victories?

Conscience and Honour (indeed) many times make some resistance and glimmering flashes; yet how quick­ly doth the understanding create to it self many new and evil Lights, and the will too much false fire, did not the fire of God awaken us, and make us even a­shamed to tell our own thoughts to our proper heart.

Oh this Feaver! this perpetual Frenzy! this wan­dring of the Soul! this neglect of the true God, and setting up of Idols! How can it be sufficiently de­plored? How is reason hereby weakned, shamefac'dness banished, passion entertained, good counsel aban­doned; [Page 30]yea, at last, how do they impute to the Stars, to Destiny, to Necessity, what is nothing else but their own folly?

It is thought by some, that in great Storms, evil Spirits shuffle to stir up Lightning-flashes, whereby the Tempests become more dreadful and pernicious: And may we not well suppose, that the Angel of Darkness involveth himself in the great Tempests of Love, and many times maketh use of the abominable help of Magicians: Is it not the Rock which wrack­eth the greatest Vessels? yea, the Gulph which de­voureth our Bodies and Souls?

Let no man then flatter you in the passion of sen­sual Love, as if it were a prime vertue of your pro­fession, which is the stain that defileth all the orna­ments of your life: Neither, among all the qualities of a vertuous life, is there any sweeter odour, then that Temperance which represseth the voluptuous pleasure of the body.

That many may have their eyes Love-proof, and their hearts shut up against all the assaults of Fond-Love.

IT is not impossible, but that [the Soul wholly pro­pending to the thing beloved] vertuous and civil A­mities may be between persons of different Sex, who are endowed with singular and excellent Vertues, and who manage their Affections with great discretion; the which, though rarely done, yet if there be any which abuse themselves, by ill placing their Love, through want of discretion, it doth not follow (neither [Page 31]is it fit) by reason of blasted members, we should blame sound parts; there being not a few, who with much prudence and chariness, have therein comport­ed themselves; yea, very many great Souls, who are so powerfully possessed by the love of God (which replenisheth their hearts, and who live a conversation in continual exercises of Prayer and mortification) as by a conversation sweetly grave, and simply prudent, to converse with women, without changing the Love which they bear to the vertue of Chastity.

And therefore Democritus needed not have volun­tarily made himself blinde, by looking stedfastly on the Beams of the Sun, to free himself from the im­portunities of the love of women, who perchance shut up two gates against Love, and opened a thousand to his Imagination; Neither needed Origen to have deprived himself of the distinction of Sex, to rebate the stings of sensuality, which bred him much mischief. It being a better way of repulse given by her, who (being importuned by a young man with all the vio­lent assaults this Passion could suggest) told him, she had resolved to fast forty days with bread and water, desiring him therein also to give a Tryal of his Love, which being accepted, in few days, thought more of his death, then precedent folly.

Neither let us think Chastity to be onely found in Cloisters, but every where, where the fear of God is. And though (as Justin Martyr faith) a singular dis­cretion ought to be had to treat with women, and he doth very much, who can love their Vertues without danger; yet we see there is sometimes need, but of a Spiders web, to beat back the Darts of Love, that [Page 32](at other times) the Ramparts of Semiramis are not strong enough against; and that a well fortified heart is like the Bed of a Phoenix, which takes no fire, but from the beams of the Sun; yea, that Chastity is of­ten times impenetrable by the darts of Love, amidst all the delights and temptations of the World.

A large president whereof we have in pious Jo­seph, who having opportunities enow to advance himself in the Court of Pharaoh [by satisfying the desires of his Mistris, who had tempted him to sin] accounted it the greatest tryal of his Vertues, to have sin in his power, and innocence in his will; neither would raise fortunes of Glass, upon the foundations of Iniquity: But (preferring Reason before Passion, Grace before Nature, and God before any thing else) represented the faithfulness he had promised to his Master, to himself, and (leaving his garment behinde him) came out of the Chamber where the snare was laid, as a Ruby out of burning flames, without losing any thing of his integrity.

And surely, as they who will with profit, make use of the proper instruments of Vertue, must so live, as if they were always under the Physicians hands, so ought we so to live, as if we were still to give an ac­count for every word of our mouth, every thought of our heart, every glance of our eye, every minute of our time, every duty we have omitted, and every sin we have committed.

Jesus our great Master, hath (by the account of some) abridged six hundred and thirteen Precepts of the Old Testament, within the Law of Love. Do but Love (saith St. Austin) and do what you will, [Page 33]onely let your love go to the right Fountain [which is God:] Be not afraid to shew him thy heart stark naked, that he may pierce it with his Arrows; His wounds are more precious then Rubies, thou shalt gain all by loving him, and death it self, which comes from his love, is the gate of life.

Our Love being once thus fixed, we need not fear the extravagancy thereof: With this excellent and holy temper of spirit it was, that Hester changed King Ahasuerus into a Lamb; that Abi­gal was much stronger then the Arms of David, and that the eye of Judith (triumphing over Holo­fernes, and with a little Ray of its flames, burning up a whole Army) did more then her hand, which destroyed 100000 men, by cutting off one only head: O what magnificent employments had Love in these Acts! And (to say truth, even consecrating its Ar­rows) never was it so innocent in its Combates, never was it so glorious in its Triumphs.

We finde in the Ecclesiastical History, that Atha­nasius being with rage and fury persecuted by the Ar­rians (who were thirsty for his blood) was beholding to a woman for shelter, and the supply of such ne­cessaries as he wanted. And may we credit the rela­tion of Writers on this Subject, how great do we finde the passions of St. Jerome for Paula? as if all the splendour of Romes greatness, all the riches of the earth, were nothing to him, in comparison of the resplendent vertues of this noble Lady: He is not onely very large, when he goes about to praise her, wishing all the members of his body were turn­ed into Tongue, and that he were nothing but voyce [Page 34]to chant out her Praises, but even in his old age, makes an Epitaph upon her death.

St. Chrysostom also, a man austere in his life, and vehement in the matters of vertue, is reported to have written letters to his dear Olimpias, from the place of his banishment; wherein he saluteth her with openness of most ardent Aeffections: He instructs and encourageth her by sublime and grave discourses, he imparteth and recounts his Voyages and adven­tures, his comforts and discomforts unto her; yea, he descends unto particulars of his own health, ha­bit, and exercises in that ugly place whereunto he was banished; and adviseth her in the like manner, what he thinks to be most necessary for her.

If we look further into History, we shall finde Chastity to be the Trophey of Cyrus, the Triumph of Alexander; nay, if we may believe the Relation of Ju-Julianus apud lian (the worst of Emperours, though re-Arminianum. nouncing his Christian Faith) would would never renounce Chastity, which he had learnt among Christians; saying, This Vertue made beauti­ful Lives, as Painters did fair faces.

By all which formerly said, we may conclude, Saints have very lively Affections to those they love: And therefore (seeing there is a necessity of Love) vain is the opinion of some Philosophers, who teach indifferency; and say, We must not love any thing.

And however a severe Censurer may (with a super­cilious countenance, and a wrinckled brow) look asquint; yet may we not doubt, there may be love between Sex and Sex, [pure and ardent] as the flames which enlighten stars, though belonging [Page 35][onely] to persons prudent and absolute in Vertue; yea, great circumspection must be used herein, men usually fortifying themselves with much precaution, observing diligently the disposition of their Nature, the causes of Temptations, and the maladies of the Soul, whereby the more successfully, and with bet­ter effect, to attain the Cure:

Love (indeed may be termed the Phronzy of the Understanding, the Poyson of the Heart, the Cor­ruption of Manners, and the desolation of the life in some; yet doth it not follow, that women are al­ways fat of the ruine of men: Many indeed resem­ble those Serpents, which requite them with poyson who sing pleasant songs unto them: But what? shall we bring an accusation against Nature in general, and conclude nothing to be good of all that God made, because it may be corrupted by the wickedness of men? Shall we accuse the Sun, because it is said that Phaeton burnt himself in those heats; or take away the water from among the Elements, because they say Aristotle was drowned therein.

Onely let it be our greatest care, not to serve two Mistisses [God, and the Beauties of the World] which are so different, as not to agree: When David and Sampson endeavoured to accord them, they be­came Lascivious, instead of being Holy; The one at first, could overthrow a Giant; but had no sooner re­ceived the wound from Bathsheba's eye, but Love soon dryed up all his Victories; and those eyes which first discovered her at the Fountains head, had much ado to cure themselves with the waters of many tears: And when the other betook himself to the [Page 36] Comb and Looking-Glass of Dalilah, being former­ly like a shining Sun, enlightning his Nation, he be­came a coal and dark vapour, having no longer eyes, but to deplore the fondness and disafter of his love, with Tears of blood.

As the best Wine is most subject to degenerate in­to Vineger; so we see the chastest Love (if heed be not taken) changeth it self into Flesh. How care­fully then should we avoid & reject the first thoughts of such miserable Designs (as being the first sparkles of this fire) lest by giving too great a command to our Passion, we give too great an overture to our un­happiness.

We finde, what the World could not do to Solomon (the wisest of men) a Woman did; and what the De­vil could not by himself do to Adam, he did it by a Woman: Neither was it the Devil, but the Daugh­ters of men, which tempted the Sons of God, Gen. 6.2, So did Dinah the son of Shechem; Dalilah, Sampson; Bathsheba, David; and millions more have done the like; whose eyes being like burning Lamps, or coals of fire, to kindle their breath, their lips, as lime­twigs to ensnare; and their hands, like Manacles or Bands, to binde and hold fast. How ought we then to make Jobs covenant with our eyes, not to look upon a Maid?

And oh, Happy are those who are so instructed in the Vertue of Purity, as that they know not the least shaddow of those sins which are committed in the world! It being a Fate sadly attending those, who see and smell out so many vain Customs, and entertainments of Countries, since too soon they [Page 37]learn, what too late they will forget; taking so much fire in at the Ears and Eyes, that water enough will not be found to extinguish it; except (with Mary Magdalen) we sit under the feet of Jesus, and be­dew them with the chrystal Tears of our Repentance:

O wonder of Women! O most happy of a [...]l Lo­vers! How didst thou make profit of Sin, which de­stroys all? How didst thou sanctifie that Love, which so little knew the way to any sanctity? (a work only wrought in thee by the right hand of the Highest) Thou which wert a sinner, wounded with Love, cu­rest thy self by Love. Thou changest the fire of Ba­bylon, into that of Jerusalem; thou pluckest out the venomous Dart of worldly Love off thy Wound, to make way for the Arrows of Jesus to pierce thy heart; and that soul which was before black, and burnt up with the fire of Concupiscence, provideth a Fountain for the King of Heaven, and draweth Tears from its sins, to procure a Pardon.

And for ever blessed are those, who (with this Pat­tern of holy Sorrow) considering the evil consequence of sensuality, effeminacy, and the too eager pursuit of carnal pleasure, use severity, denyal, and the frustra­ting of their appetite, when it any way grows unrea­sonable. For why should we thus offer violence to our selves? Why should we thus endanger our E­state? Shall we drown those Senses here in a world of pleasure, which will not hereafter be able to pro­cure one bottle of Water to refresh us? O horrour! What? Of the Members of Jesus Christ, to make them the members of an unclean Creature! O great indignity! What? To worship and serve our Lusts? [Page 38]to adore our sinful Appetites? O that we would put our selves any where into the hands of Innocency, ra­ther then among the imaginary felicities of sin and wickedness!

Say to thy self (O my Soul!) it will not be long until thy Eyes be shut, and thy body become trouble­some to all that come near it, unless speedily yeilded up to the Earth: And no sooner will death absent thee from the eyes of thy Friends, but forgetfulness will draw thee off from their heart: Thou art enforced, O my Soul! to inhabite in a sickly body, encountring with all sorts of pains and maladies: O my God! What a favour then is it to be banished from so many Gouts, Sciaticks, Collicks, so many pains of Head, Teeth, and Heart; so much hunger, thirst, and other infirmities which afflict a frail and momentary body.

And oh that we would but remember this when Temptation comes upon us! When we are tempted to give up our minde to the world, and drown our selves in earthly cares; when we are tempted to pro­fits, pleasures, and evil company, with the neglect of the Duties of Gods Worship! That we would but seriously be-think, whether the world will then be as sweet as now? Whether our unruly Passions and Lusts will then bear the same sway with us? and whether all the Glories, Beauty, Honours, and Preferments of the world, will not then seem needless, vain, and un­profitable?

Alas! Will any of those things be comfortable to thee at that day of Reckoning? Is this a day to be forgotten? Is not that man worse then mad, that is going to judgement, and never thinks of it? Should [Page 39]we not rather forget to eat, to drink, to sleep, or work, then a matter of so great concernment? What? To forget that we must remember for ever? O poor Souls! How much rather should we (in the midst of all our Temptations and allurements to sin) imitate him, who wheresoever he went, seem'd to hear a Voice calling to the World, Arise ye Dead, and come to judgement.

The Misery of those who have yeilded to the Passion of Love, and the Glory of Souls which have overcome it.

TO mention the sad effects of sensual Love, which hath so many ways of working, will be a Task very hard and difficult, seeing this Fury hath a thou­sand hands, and a thousand attractives; yea, for the most part different, and quite opposite: It takes by the eyes, by the ears, by the Imagination, by change of purpose, by flying, pursuing, honouring, and in­sulting by complacency, and by disdain.

Somtimes it lays hold by Tears, by laughing, by modesty, by boldness, by confidence, by subtil­ty, by simplicity, by speech, and by silence. It assaileth us somtimes in company, somtimes in soli­tude; at windows, in grates, in Theaters, at Feasts, at Sports; yea, oftentimes at the Church, and in Du­ties of Devotion. Briefly, if we behold one transfixed with violent Love, we shall finde, he hath all that in his love, which Divines have placed in Hell; viz. Darkness, flames, an evil Conscience, an ill savour, and banishment from the presence of God.

Sin will not at first discover its dreadful events, and [Page 40]Tragedies; It will perchance shew you a chamber wherein Beauty is presented, which hideth gross infir­mities: It presents you with smiles, glances, Court­ships, and flatteries, which yet carry nothing with them but ruine; yea, it shews you Sports and Ban­quets, Tears, and Funerals in one day.

Alas! How many millions of men are there in the world, who would be most fortunate and flourishing, if they knew how to avoid the mischievous power of this Passion? Hence is it that so many Virgins are stoln away, so many Families desolated, and Parents precipitated [often times] into their Tombs, by their ungrateful children: That so many little Innocents are made away by death, whose birth also is often pre­vented: Hence is it, that so many Widdows are dis­honoured, that chaste Wedlocks are disturbed, and so many Rapes committed.

Is it not hence that so many are abandoned to dis­honour, their Estates to pillage and poverty, their Re­putation to infamy, and their whole lives to continual disturbances? Is it not hence that poysons are min­gled, that Halters are noozed, that Swords are sharp­ned, and those Tragedies begun in the Night, are exe­cuted upon the Scaffold in full day-light?

Good God! What heavie scourges do always fall on sin? and what a pleasing spectacle (among so ma­ny confusions) is it to see any Victory gained over e­vil Love? It were easie to enlarge the History of Loves power, which would require a Volumn greater then hath yet been seen, if I should tell you, how Love oftentimes rejecteth the greatest commands, wisest Edicts, and best Laws: How it despiseth Ho­nour, [Page 41]neglects Fame, Wealth, Health, Life, Soul, and all.

It is compared also by some to Fire (the most active and strongest worker of all the Elements) which de­stroyeth Castles, Houses, and Cities, which melts and consumes the hardest Metals; and if our contempla­tion dive into former Times, or if we turn over the variety, as well of Modern as Ancient Histories [not only Divine but Humane] we shall finde the sad ef­fects of our evil Love; how Ambition, Revenge, and Murther [vices which not only eclipse our judgments, but darken our understandings] have ever proved fa­tal to the Undertakers thereof, and that we shall not only see with grief, but finde with repentance, how this Passion of fond Love hath brought shame instead of glory, misery for felicity, and affliction for content, where affection hath not had reason for its guide, nor vertue for its object.

I shall spare to insist on those infamous Ladies, whose memory (purchased by odious Lust) will sur­vive the course of time; as Cleopatra, Faustina, Cli­temnestra, with the last whereof, Aegistus lost his ho­nour, through too great a familiarity; and we finde not a few to suffer a great eclipse of their credit, through their too much effeminacy; whence it was, that Demosthenes being demanded a great price for a little pleasure, by the Courtezan Lais, answered, I will not buy repentance at so dear a rate: well, considering that the fairest flowers do as well serve for a shelter to hide Aspes and Serpents, as to beautifie Garlands and Chaplets; neither would desire the fruit of that Tree, nor the kernel of that Apple, which was at [Page 42]first of that fatal and dreadful consequence to the Taster.

The things we finde commended in Mary Mag­dalen by our blessed Saviour, was her humility, and the Office she performed to his feet, and no way admi­ring her comly countenance, and the pleasant flower of her youth, which she had too often made as a snare to betrey her Lovers; and all to let us see how loath­some, disrelishing, and unsavoury are the husks of vain and empty Beauty; and how irksome the taste of sin­ful pleasures are, (which like deep laughing, still car­ries a deep sigh in the end) in respect of those inward vertues of the soul, to be preferred beyond the fair and ruddy fruit of Earthly Beauty.

But then again on the contrary, how large do we finde History in setting forth the admirable command which some have had over themselves, who would not make Beauty their Object, nor be surprized with amorous folly. Joseph would not be tempted by his Mistris. Holy Job, Made a Covenant with his eyes, not to look upon a Maid; with many other the like Examples we read of in the holy Scripture.

Besides, Do we not read of the Roman Stilpo, who notwithstanding he were naturally addicted to Incon­tinency, became absolute Commander of his affecti­ons, by reading only certain Precepts of Moral Philo­sophy? What admirable Continency also do we finde mentioned of Alexander, in sparing the Wife of Da­rius, and his three Daughters? Scipio (after many years prosperous exploits) purchased not more glory, then by overcoming himself, when a beautiful maid was brought unto him, whom he returned (with a [Page 43]great reward) unto him to whom she was espoused.

No less worthy to be noted (not to mention those Noble Matrons, whose Vertue and Chastity will tran­scend the Period of all Ages; as Porcia, Octavia, Cae­cilia, Cornelia, &c.) were Marius, Solyman the Magnificent, and many others, recorded for their Princely command over themselves and their affecti­ons:

If Beauty then chance to shew thee a fair Visage, remember the Syrens do the same; if she allure thee by her Caresses, so doth the Panther; if her amorous plaints invite thee, let the sighs of the Crocodile be thy Instruction: Her greatest brightness is (at best) but a false and fading Meteor: And seldome (saith Plutarch) doth Beauty and Honesty dwell together.

Thou then that art beautified with an Angelical Feature, Why shouldest thou participate of any in­feriour Creature? Why wilt thou suffer so great an Eclipse for a minutes pleasure, since this Vice above all others, derogates so much from thy Honour.

It was ill Physick, and only fit for so luxurious a a Physician, which Epicurus used to one of his Pati­ents, viz. To lay him on a Down bed, in a perfumed chamber, crowning him with a Garland of sweet smelling Flowers, and (after a Potion or two of good Drink) to bring him a beautiful young Wench, which could play, sing, and dance. And was it not as great a vanity which Ctesias relates of a Persian King, that had an hundred and fifty Maids attending his Table, to play, sing, and dance by turns. The like whereof another reports of an Aegyptian Prince, who still kept nine Virgins of most excellent Feature, and sweet Voices, to wait on him.

[Page 44]But were these things well considered by those who are surprized with an amorous folly, their desires would not be so much bent to sensuality, nor their delights wholly engaged to fleshly Liberty: Beauty would not so often be their Object, nor Vanity the subject of their discourse; they would not be so often fieng'd in the flames of that Love, which cannot hold without jealousie, nor break without repentance. Neither would Complexion take up so much room in their thoughts, who should rather give themselves to Diviner Meditations.

How we may avoid the Snares of Love.

IF we desire to know the way, how to banish this Passion, for our more quiet and comfortable living; let us in the first place consider, That we cannot do it, without having this singular gift of God, who is onely able to banish this Fury, which plungeth our whole life in such great acerbities, and horrible ca­lamities, and against which we ought to bend our ut­most endeavours.

Presume not too much on thy own strength and integrity, and take heed of the pride of thy heart, arrogant spirits being usually subject to fall into such sins; and God often makes it a counter-poise [as we see in St. Paul, who in the height of Revelation, 2 Cor. 12. had a sting in the flesh] to abate the fierce­ness of the courage, and to quell the exorbitancy of humane arrogancy.

Let us take heed also, of serving, soothing, fre­quenting, or spying out occasions: For as Love takes [Page 45]most, and works by idleness and converse; so is it best resisted, by the contrary, [good employment, and the shunning of wanton company:] Flight of occasions, is the most assured remedy and rampire for Chastity; and whosoever [this way] carries himself well, shall appear stronger in flying, then Conquer­ours in their bravest Battels; a Retreat in Love, be­ing as honourable as a Victory.

Take heed of fondness in apparel, behaviour, com­plement, books, songs, banquettings, and unlawful recreations. Many things (indeed) at first seem in­nocent enough, but it too often hapneth, that as drops of water (incessantly falling) do hollow rocks, so continual, and ceaseless allurements, soften and betray the most impregnable Natures.

Art thou weak, then fear thy infirmity; if strong, suspect even thy own safety: Be not too forward in beginning the Combate, until you know what will be the end. Love at first will beset thee with the vi­sage of a Virgin, but leave thee with the body of a Serpent: If you look on it upon one side, you shall finde it infinitely sweet and charming; but on the other a Hideous Fury, a Specious Bait, a Pleasing Witch, a Living Death, a Fair Disease, a Specious Plague, a Fresh (but infectious) Ayr, a Satyr sweet­ly drawn, and a Wilde-fire finely covered with Lawn.

Besides, false opinion is ever at the gates of this soft, fly, tempting Slut, which deceiveth and bewitch­eth all those that come near her: It discovers not at first the dreadful events and Tragedies of this Passion; it shews them chambers, wherein Beauty is presented [Page 46]under white and vermilion skin, which hideth a Sepul­cher of rottenness; it is attended with smiles, glances, flatteries, and courtships, which for the most part end in care, terrour, folly, distrust, tears, sighs, falshood, jealousies, and dolours.

Hence was it, that one wittily compared the heart of a Lover to a Stage, whereon (at the same time) were seen Sports and Banquets, Battels and Funerals; yea, this delicate admired Enchantress, will prove but a very sad bargain, even to those that enjoy her af­ter their own lusts, and at their own rate, she being no better then a Canker-rose full of deception and sorrow.

Oh, what a miserable thing then is it, to love a Beauty, which is onely fair in the fantasie of a fea­verish Brain, and of which (in a short time) the most liquorish worms will scorn to make a Dunghill! O weakness! O false Idea! O remissness of heart! Is not this to betray our own manhood? to embrace a Cloud (which vanisheth) for a Bright day, which neither admitteth end nor darkness? and to neglect that Love, which will at last wipe away our Tears, enrich our Poverty, and Beautifie our Chains?

What delight (alas) can we take to seek out, a felicity which we shall never finde? Shall we then seek to be roasted in ashes? shall we prefer a blast of smoak, and a glittering chain, before perpetual Liberty? shall we desire to sleep on Thorns, and feed on Gauls? Oh meer madness! to live a slave to the world, and not enjoy the Love of the Creator! to seek rest in the Creature, and neglect the love of the Maker! Oh, let us better imploy that time, which heretofore we [Page 47]have dedicated to the Fantasies of our Spirits: Let Reason get the upperhand of our Passion; let our eyes be fast setled upon the Law of God; which tells us, that there is never any thing lost by being faithful unto him: And let us still represent to our selves, the short pleasure which accompanies sin, and the re­morse of Conscience which follows it, and it will tend much towards the extinguishing of the Flames of Love, to break all its Darts, and to make us sole master of our captivating Lusts.

Neither is dissoluteness of habit, the least sign and fore-runner of the Adulteries of the minde; many having (this way) made so proud a monument of their vanity, as to erect an Eternal Reproach of their punishment: Heaven and Earth must be turned o­ver, Nature must be forced, and all Arts wearied out, to serve as instruments to Pride and Luxury; and to what end serves those false Guiess, those cost­ly Jewels, those shameless Flies, patchings and paint­ings wherewith women daub and besmear their Faces, unless to destroy Chastity? To what end serves the nakedness of their Neck and Breasts? How little do these things speak or breathe the odour of Vertue? but much rather expose shame to their Sex, and scan­dal to civil decency.

Surely, whosoever thus appears too quaint before the world, can hardly carry a sound heart before God. And Tertullian (bewailing the furni­ture and equipage of such a Woman) saith, Quasi ad pompam funeris constitu­tam. Tert. de Hab. Mulieris. It would be more fit for the set­ting forth of her Funerals, then the ornament of her body; which (indeed) [Page 48]would seem better adorned, if cloathed (like Eve) with simple skins, then in such vain and worldly Pomps.

Our Affections and services can no longer be plea­sing to the Saviour of the world, when we are thus engaged to false Divinities. Poor Creatures then as we are! to love rather to measure the world in its vanity, then to possess it in the love of God! To prefer darkness, before the Sun; Thorns, before Grapes; Acorns, before good Corn, and not to place our affections on our Jesus, who was crucified for us! Proud dust and ashes as we are! since born with supereminency of body, and seeming the good­liest Creatures of the world, why should we go about to beg glory from poysons of the Earth, from worms, and spoils of the dead?

You then that have no other Idol, but Beauty; who worship no other Deities, but pleasure and Ambi­tion; O consider, that as a Rose adorned with its own leaves, obscures the Beauty of all other Flowers; so the best Art, is to have no Art; to take whatever Na­ture hath given, and to render all to God: Let not your thoughts strike sail to Affection, let not your hearts do homage to that Beauty, which will ensnare and imprison you in the Fetters of sin; but rather timely resist the influence of your amorous assaults, being the Rocks whereon many have sadly suffered shipwrack, the Fountain which sends forth many poysoned streams; and the Tree, whose fruit is bit­ter to the stomach, how pleasing soever it be to the palate.

Consider further, how that in an instant God can [Page 49]turn your vessel of gold into an earthern Pot. For alas, what a short life have we here? Love (saith one) may be compared to the Punais Worm, which bites while she liveth, and after death maketh her infection to be felt. The sin of the body, too often begins in that of the face, which is insensibly eaten with painting and poyson, and too often do we derive Beauty from corruption.

Neither do I know a better way to stop the begin­nings of Lust, then to think of the end thereof. Those that in the first Temptation will but take the pains to draw the Curtain, shall behold such a huge Gulph of scandals, injuries, rages, lothsomness, and despairs, as that they would as willingly almost descend into hell alive, as consent to this brutish Passion.

Who would not account him mad, who always walks in solitude; who courts a shaddow, who sigh­eth, laugheth, feareth, waxeth pale, blusheth, desireth, hateth, dieth, riseth again, is now in earth, and straight­way in heaven, in one hour acteth a Comedy of a dozen Personages, and every minute changeth and metamorphoseth himself? What a silly thing is it to see any one thus to trouble and vex himself in pursuit of a wylie Wench, that delights to exercise Her most infamous Tyrannie?

Is it not a pitiful thing to see a man burn in Ice, and congeal in Fire? Having the colour wan, the Visage meagre, the eyes hollow, the cheeks sunk, the spirits giddy, the reason uncollected, and the whole Body Feverish and distemper'd, for a creature that will soon fail his expectation? Who is there that will not con­demn that King, who suffered his Minion to take off [Page 50]his Crown, and set her Slippers on his head? That Dionysius (the Tyrant) should write the expeditions of his Kingdom, and that Mirrha (his Wife) should Cancel, or Signe them at her pleasure? Who would not be astonished at the Roman Macarius, who ha­ving conquered Love in the world, was surprized in the Wilderness, by finding a Womans Shooe? And yet may we daylie observe an infinite number of mat­ters much more strange.

Why go we then about to Idolize a Woman? Have we not slavery enough at home, but we must needs seek it abroad? O let us consider, that they which thus suffer their heads to run at liberty after such sottish Loves, die a thousand times a day in fol­lowing of scornful Beauty; and have little cause to brag, yea, though they attain the end of their pre­tensions; their Passions being most violent for things that must quickly be taken from them.

What a shame is it to observe many, who waste so much of their precious time for the kiss of a Hand, the touch of a Lip, the glance of an Eye, the untying of a Shooe-string, and the like? That they should thus make a Goddess of a piece of Flesh, and kiss the Fetters of their slavery, instead of breaking them! That they should take a glory to sacrifice their Liber­ty to that Idol, whereby at last they suffer a shame­ful servitude!

And as for the cruelties attending this Passion; What Furies, what Poysons, what Racks, what Swords, and Gibbets belong to the violence of enraged Lo­vers? And shall we still rejoyce in the sense-pleasing flatteries of our sensual Desires? What? Nothing to [Page 51]be seen but Tears, Horrour, Grief, Astonishment, and other representations of death? And shall we thus Court those flames? Shall we embrace that Stake to which we shall be a Martyr? Ah! Were we but well awaked, with what horrour should we behold the pre­cipices whereinto we are falling? How plain should we behold these golden snares, which (like the Carca­net of Medea, or the Trojan Horse) will at last bear Arms against us?

And to the end then, that we may not turmoil and weary our selves in the By-paths which directly lead us into the myre of violent affection, neither wholly resign our selves over to such a gross indiscretion, I shall shew you the Medeas we often Court, under the Story of One, who had almost lost his Wits, as well as Reputation, through the violent pursuit of a Lady he much adored, who finding no other slight or stra­tagem to vanquish the importunate extravagancies of this passionate Lover, shewed him her Neck, and un­covered her Bosome, all gnawn and eaten with a ma­ligne Cancer; Behold, fond Lover (said she) what thou so eagerly Courtest! and so instantly made the Cancer of her body, to cure the Cancer of his minde: vitae Patrum Occid. l. 6.

Is it not a shame to entertain such worldly Ami­ties, and petty Loves, only to please flesh and blood, and which are no sooner disliked by the Eye, but di­stasted by the heart? We read of some, who have fought with it on Thorns, Hair-clothes, and other au­sterities; and we finde mention of One, who being bound to a Bed of Roses with silken Cords, to resigne himself to the love of a Courtezan, spit out his Tongue [Page 52]in her Face. Some have also asswaged their Passion by flames; Others have quenched the heat of their desires in snows; Others, by living in rocks, and solitary wil­dernesses; as if nothing were so invincible, and hardly attain'd, as this Vertue of Chastity; Nothing so diffi­cult as to see all the follies of entranced Lovers.

But the chiefest way amongst many humane Indu­stries, which tend to the curing of Love [it being to no end to hold long Discourses, and to appoint many Meditations to a sharp Fever, which is full of ravings, and furious symptomes] is to owe all our health this way to the fear of God, to Prayer, Fasting, and De­votion, which is far better then all other inventions.

Make use also often of the memory of death. Set an assiduous watch over thy eyes, ears, heart, and sen­ses. Avoid anger, since anger and love work upon one subject. Absent your self from that Presence which is the nourishment of your Flames. Those Comets which are said to be fed by the vapours of the Earth, are no longer maintained, then nourishment is afforded; and that Love, which burns and shines like a false Star in our heart, will soon go out, if you refuse sustenance from the face you admire, and the compa­ny which entertains you in an enchanted Palace, full of chains and charms.

Withdraw your self then betime from this capti­vity; gain the Haven, before the storm surprize you; for if you be once engaged, there is neither Arm nor Oar can bring you safe. Let us enter seriously into our selves, and daylie consider what passeth there, cut­ting off this Passion which raiseth such a Storm with­in us. Let us ever keep a vigilant Guard, lest Satan [Page 53]betray us and our lusts (like expert Enemies, who politiquely strengthen themselves with all advanta­ges) make head against us. And lastly, Let us throw out this Jesabel, who with her Natural cruelty hath slain so many Innocents, ruined so many Cities, di­sturbed States, and let us come out of that servitude in which (like a Mill-wheel) we labour much, and get little; and which hath always folly for guide; Po­verty for Dowry, and Misery for recompence.

That Outward Ornaments should not invite our Love.

HE that loves the World, and the Glories thereof, entertains a thousand businesses, and every busi­ness hath a world of employments, and those so mul­tiplied by variety of circumstances, as that it is trou­blesome to understand them, and much more to en­counter with them: whereas sweet are the sleeps of those, who prefer heaven before earth, and Chastity and Temperance, before the wantonness and impuri­ties of a debauched conversation.

Why (alas!) then should we ruine our certainties in the fruitless expectation of vanity and shaddows? What slender footing will these accessory commodi­ties have, when death, deformity, poverty, contempt, and sickness are at our heels? Let us timely consider then, how many boxes full of Pills the fairest Beauties have at home in their Chests, to take when the Rheum and other infirmities assail them: Since God gives us leave to dispose of our dislodging from these fading Tabernacles, shall we not prepare our selves unto it? O let us seasonably bid farewel to our company, and [Page 54]let us shake off those violent Hold-fasts, which e­strange us from our future happiness.

As those eyes seldom burn with Lust, which are bedewed with Tears; so those who prefer the light of God's presence before all corporal Beauty, do easily perceive how little it is to be regarded. They will not exchange the glorious Sun, for the light of a can­dle. Here they can have no Lightning without the Thunder, that makes it seems more dreadful then de­lightful; and therefore will prefer a silent night be­fore a tempestuous day; and the everlasting views of the face of God, before the false Lights of the world.

The light of the Sun (indeed) lighteth all the world, but how useless will it be, when Jesus [who is the true light of the world] shall appear in the glo­ry of heaven. The Rose looks fair (indeed) but is not the Beauty faded, and the sweetness expired, of­tentimes, before the scars in gathering of it be heal­ed? The honey seems pleasant to the taste, but alas! Who would have it with so many smarting stings?

Thou (then) that art taken with a pleasing smile; thou whom a sigh, a glance, or tears beguil; oh, turn thine eyes aside! Forbear to Sayl in so dangerous a Tyde, lest Syrens assail, or shipwrack attend thee; few attaining their desired harbour with such a wind of vanity; all thy labour and rowing in so leaking and weather-beaten a Vessel, will prove at last but as a handful of waters to a man that is drowning, which will help rather to destroy then save him.

Alas! What is the Beauty that thou so admirest? When the night comes, it is nothing to thee; and while thou hast gazed on it, Hath it not withered [Page 55]away? Canst thou not even shut thy eyes, and fancy all into darkness or deformity? Or will not a few leprous spots, or malignant ulcers, soon divert thy affections, and make the Idol of thy Love to become the sad spectacle of thy distaste? Suppose that thou saw'st that beautiful Carcass lying on a Bier, carrying to be buried, or rotting in a grave, the skul digged up, and the bones scattered, where will be thy lovely ob­ject? Canst thou then love a skin full of dirt?

Or didst thou but behold thy beautiful Dalilah, thy lovely Mistris, on a dying Bed, panting, schrieching, groaning, turning from one side to another, and pant­ing for breath, her eyes gastfully rolling, her lips fa­ding, her hands trembling, her mouth distorted through violent Convulsions, those White and Reds (so much admired) turn'd into a black swarthiness, and her whole body declining into clay; Ah tell me now what thou thinkest! Canst thou now sweetly em­brace it, or take any pleasure in it? O my Soul then! Withdraw thy thoughts from the fading Beauties of the world: Let not the shaddow, but the Sun direct thee: Labour to fix thy eyes upon the only true and lovely object of thy eternal happiness.

That when all Loves fail, the Love of God remains.

THe Soul of man is unsatisfied, nothing but the Creator thereof will content it: It walks but sadly amongst the Riches, Honours, and Dignities of the world; all the joys, glories, and beatitudes of the earth, afford it no comfort. It wholly represents God as the beginning and end of all things, and is ravished [Page 56]with its glory, as poor creatures use to be with the heat of the Sun. It is he alone which the soul seeks, esteems, and honours: All that she sees, hears, or un­derstands besides, is nothing to her, if it carry not his Name, and take colour from his Beauty; she well knows she shall get all by loving him, and death it self, which comes from his Love, is the gate of Life.

Here, we every night finde a little death in our sleep: sickness and pains are still subject to overtake us, neither indeed do we know what belongs to a Crown, Scepter, or Kingdom while we are in this base life: But surely, had we talked [only] one quarter of an hour with a blessed Soul departed, and discoursed of the State of the other life, Oh! How would our heart dissolve into desires? How would we hasten to go out of that ruinous house, where of we are but Te­nants? How would we be ravished to hear these words, Go faithful soul, out of this Body, go out with joy, in full peace and safety; the eternal mountains [those glorious Heavens] and all the goodly company of Angels, and blessed Spirits, which there inhabite, will there receive thee? Go on confidently, behold God is ready to wipe away all thy Tears; No more sor­rows, no more clamours; behold an Estate altoge­ther new? Oh, What Repose! What Peace! What cessation of Troubles shall we there meet with!

Our Saviour met the Young-man that was carried to Burial, at the Gate of Naim, Luke 7.11. [which is interpreted, The Town of Beauties] to shew us, that neither Beauty, nor Youth, are freed from the Laws of Death. And it was not impertinately sto­ryed of a young man, who going eagerly after the [Page 57]pursuit of his Lusts, met a dead Corps in his way, which occasion'd his return, and the future amend­ment of that, and other his exorbitant and lascivious courses.

And truly, as the consideration of our ashes will humble us under the greatest Pride, so will it abate and consume our burning Lust; he being very strong by Nature, or wicked by his own choice, who will not amend himself, having ashes for his Glass, and death for his Mistris.

Oh! What then is it (silly dust and ashes!) that thus strangely enflames thy swelling veins, when the least breath, or shew of death, is like Belshazzar's hand-writing on the Wall, ever ready to affright thee? Wilt thou then pursue those seeming joys and fancies which will at last vanish into a dejected Melancholy? Wilt thou unadvisedly let loose the Reins of thy af­fections, towards the enjoyment of such perishing Pleasures? If so, oh! How dearly wilt thou buy thy folly!

What are we alas! and what is all we call ours? To day we flourish, and are well spoken of; we please, and are in favour with men. But (out alas!) our flow­er will fade to morrow, and we shall be evil spoken of, and out of favour with God and man.

And whither tends all this (O my soul!) but to tell thee, that thou art made to wait on thy Lord, and Spouse, and wholly to thirst after Divine things; nei­ther must thou ever think to attain perfect rest and happiness in the troublesome Bed of this world. Three cubits of earth will suffice us, and how little or much soever we possess, how beautiful or deformed soever [Page 58]we are, this is all shall be left us. Yet, how often (O God!) doth it come to pass, that for a little deceit­ful Beauty, a little fugitive honour, a little filthy plea­sure [and that not long] we so slightly regard the joys of heaven, neither dread the everlasting pains of hell.

He that but truly be-thinks himself of Haman's pride, of Belshazzar's sacriledge, Ahab's covetousness, Absolon's hair, Sampson's locks, and Dives riches, shall quickly finde, that these things wherein we most presum'd, and which we esteem'd our best support, may suddenly become the occasion of our ruine and destruction. You then that say, Come, and let us en­joy the pleasures that are; let us take our fill of pre­cious wine, and sweet perfumes, and no way lose the flower of our time; let us crown our selves with Ro­ses, before they fade away, and let no meadow be un­traversed by us; O that ye would but a little appre­hend, that what this way seems most to afford you content, exposeth you a hundred times a day to the hazard of your lives.

For how little alas! is the continuance [at best] of all the favours of Fortune? When one Sun-shine of pleasure is past, in comes a Tempest; and when one storm is dispersed, how are we again cast into new despairs; and [at last] with what dreadful complaints (able to rend Rocks and Marbles asunder) will we lament our sins, then presented unto us, like so many Furies, which heretofore we esteemed so light.

If then at any time thou art taken with the Syren and pleasing smiles of the world; if thou seem here to content thy self in the beholding of earthly Pala­ces, rich furniture, exquisite pictures, and sweet Per­fumes; [Page 59]if thou seem here to please thy melancholy Fancy, in high Mountains, goodly Forrests, rich Mar­bles, fair Meadows, pleasant Rivers, and beautiful Flowers; O do but be-think thy self! What are these? What is this to Heaven? What is this to Eternity? All being but a little Atome to the unspeakable joys of the Celestial Paradice.

Earthly delights may (I confess) astonish, but can never satiate our senses. Temporal Beauty is but a transitory charm, an illusion of our senses, a Flower which hath but a moment of life, and a Dyal, which we never look on, but when the Sun shines: What is humane glory, but a Dunghil covered with snow, a Glass painted with false colours, a sugar'd Fruit gilded with poyson, or a dangerous Hostess in a fair House? Shall we then trust so fading a good? Shall we hazard our Souls in so unhappy a snare? Or, shall we tye out contentments to so slippery a knot? Or dote upon temporal goods, which like chirping Birds, give us only a little Musick in the Summer, and so fly away?

There are some, who upon these words of the Psalmist, By the waters of Babylon we sate down and wept, have compared the temporal goods and delights of the world to these Waters; not only for their swift running away, and never returning; but for their trouble in procuring, and their sorrow in losing; and well may we therefore hang up our Harps, and sit down weeping, while we live in this Babylon of Capti­vity.

And surely, Wisdom tells us, that such is the vanity of all earthly goods, as that there is nothing so great in this Vale of Tears, whose loss should any way [Page 60]disquiet us. VVhat are our bodies but the food of worms? Our gaudy Attires, but nourishment for Moths? Our stately pyled Houses, but stones and morter? Our most precious Jewels, but the excre­ments of an enraged Sea [which borrow their worth from our weak fancy] and all our honours, but the golden Masks and Weather-cocks of inconstancy?

O unfortunate Worldling! Where then are thy thoughts fixed? What is here in the world that can deserve thy love? Behold the whole Fabrick of the Creation, and see what thou canst meet with worth thy affection? Canst thou then embarque thy self a­mong such trecherous Syrens? Seest thou not that thy riches, friends, reputation, companions, and all will at last forsake thee, as a Butterfly, which escapes the hand of a childe? Whereat then aims thy strong Ambition? What means thy burning Avarice, Thy profuse Ryot? What will one day become of thy wretched profit, thy fading pleasures? Will not all vanish into fancy, and a body of smoak; and nothing avail thee, when thy mouth shall be stopt with eter­nal silence?

Be not then so bad a Merchant, as to sell things e­ternal for temporal. It is for silly flies to gad only in the Sun-shine of this world: This Enchantress, which thou so much admirest, and enjoyest after thy own lusts, will at last prove but a very bad bargain, full of vanity, deception, and sorrow.

Ah! That thou shouldest love poyson, and embrace death! That we should seek our own ruine and con­fusion! Doth the world tempt thee to honour? Oh despise it in humility: If to Riches, O scorn it in con­tentment. [Page 61]And O my Soul! Let not the wings of thy love to God, be entangled with the bird-lime of temporal things! God hath espoused thee a chaste Virgin to himself; Let not those Love-tokens which he hath sent to engage thy Affections, more strongly to himself, seduce thy heart from him, who except he may have the choicest, will admit of none of thy love.

Temporal Goods cannot content the Soul, and there­fore deserve not our Love.

ALl the happiness and felicity of man in this world, is a Dream; it comes on we know not how, and when it vanisheth, we cannot so much as discern whether it is gone: Yea, How do all the pos­sessions thereof pass away in an unperceived motion. When we suppose them fast lock'd in our arms, they creep from us in a mist or smoak, which silently steals out at the chimnies top, after it hath fouled and smut­ted it within.

Our life is but like the nest of some silly Bird, whose best composure and materials are straw and dust; and as soon doth the stately Palaces and Courts of the greatest Princes decay, as the poor resting place of a Swallow comes dropping down at the approach of Winter. What (alas!) shall I say? since wheresoe­ver we reflect our eyes, we shall finde cause sufficient to dissolve them into Tears. If we look up to hea­ven, while we behold our Country aloof, we cannot but consider our selves in banishment: If on earth, it is but the upbraiding remembrance of our grave; and how proudly soever we trample it under our feet [Page 62]at present, it makes full account to have the disposure of our heads; yea, the greatest Emperours after death, are found sitting in Vaults under earth in silence, and mournful Majesty.

Neither is there any thing (when all other Beauty, Honours, and happiness proves brittle and inconstant) which remains to yeild us comfort, but the benefit we receive from the few hours we spend in Prayer, Me­ditation, and the Exercises of a pious life. Now, now is the time, that in one little part of an hour, we may obtain pardon here, which all Eternity shall not here­after. Now is the time, that in one short day we may have more debts so given us, then in all the years and times to come.

Here may we so lament for sins committed, as to escape everlasting punishment: Here's nothing but the fearful cracks of ruines every where, the dreadful roaring of storms and tempests on every side. Our house still threatens its fall, and we are (with S. Ste­phen) in the midst of a violent shower of stones on e­very hand, and shall we not think of retyring our selves to our heavenly Countrey? Shall we not wil­lingly then leave the house of our Pilgrimage here, for those glorious Mansions above! O happy Countrey! O blessed Mansions, which are provided for us in our Fathers house!

But O Eternity, Eternity! How little do we think on thee? Or strive to avoid those endless miseries, and those perpetual nights of horrour and sadness, which custome in sinning will assuredly bring upon us? Alas! What more fond, then for a little earthly Beauty, for Riches, and for the love of this world, to lose hea­ven, [Page 63]and procure eternal wretchedness? Alas! How do all the sweet waters of our pleasures, at last run ha­stily into a Sea of sorrows and bitterness? How doth sadness dive into the bottom of the Soul, when de­lights tickle us in the outside of the skin? How like a bunch of Grapes (saith S. Bernard) are the World­lings joys, whose juyce is pressed out? How full of disquietness are they? Their fulness (at best) being seasoned with shame and repentance. Oh! How do they (like abortives) die in the birth; yea, too often prove the executioners of the owners, or leave us, like a poor Pilgrim, dispoiled by thieves?

We finde our Saviour disswading his Disciples from Ambition, Matth. 20.20. and to call Riches thorns, as bearing fair flowers, but the fruit very bad; yea, serves as a shelter for Vipers and serpents. Yet, oh insatiable Avarice! Whither dost thou transport our manners and understanding? Ah! the forgetfulness of our condition: Alas! What are we? Whence came we? Was it not a few years since we were born naked, creeping on the earth, and having a mouth open to cries and hunger; and do we think we have nothing, except we possess all things?

Alas! Our misery lies in our life; we die, when we do not die; In our last end is all our happiness, which will transport us from earth to heaven, from Aegypt to Canaan, if so be we make it our care to a­void as well the affections as the presence of all the creatures of this world, and unite our selves to God by the practise of vertues, which will serve as so many steps to glory.

Nor is there any other way to take away the sting [Page 64]of death, or make our life comfortable. Our honour will lie in the dust, and sleep in a Bed of earth. Our Riches will not deliver us in the day of wrath: what if thou leave them behind to procure a few mourning weeds to attend thy Herse, or erect some glorious Monument to thy memory; yet will they at last ra­ther afflict then relieve thee at the hour of thy pas­sage. Oh, but thou wilt say, thy friends shall help thee: Alas! All that they can do, is but to attend thee to thy last resting place, and to shed some friend­ly [perchance feigned] Tears, for leaving them be­hinde thee! Such miserable comforters are all things thou canst think on here below.

When all things leave thee, the love of God, and a good Conscience will be thy familiar friends, and which must ever attend thee: That Balmof Gilead, which must chear thee; and that Palm of Peace which must at last crown thee: And truly, we have daylie need of God, and not of man to help us: One cries out here, Wretch that I am, who will help me out of misery? Where shall I finde Tears enow to save me? Another cries out, What shall I do? Must I needs leave my only Father, my dear Husband, my loving Brother, my sweet and only Childe? Oh let me die! Some good body or other make an end of me!

The black clouds of sorrow somtimes so sadly over­shadow us, as that (with Jacob) we rend our clothes, and will needs go down with sorrow to our Grave; We often cry out, What, for ever? In aeternum vale­dicere? What, to part for ever? To forsake the world, and all our friends, what more troublesome? What? To take this young betrothed, this poor Maid, this [Page 65]intended Husband? What? To lay hold on one so well beloved, in the flower of his age, so fresh, so flourishing, so full of Honour and Prosperity? O cruel and malicious Death! What? Hast thou Ears of Brass and Diamonds, and wilt not hear our cries? Alas! What do I here? I am but a living death, and an unprofitable burden to the earth! Why hadst thou not rather taken away this Begger, that Cripple, who hath not wherewith to live? Ah Death! Now shoot the utmost of thy Darts!

Thus do our humane respects too often seem to withstand the Divine Providence. But oh thou that art thus unwilling to part with a Dunghil, an earthly Cottage, to enjoy a life of perpetual Beauty and fe­licity! What (alas!) may we think of thee? That Heaven should open it self to thee, and thou wilt neither embrace it, nor open thy heart to love him that offers it? Alas! O Soul [many times ungrateful and disloyal] what wilt thou answer for so great a neglect, when God shall call thee to an account? Ah! If we love any thing in the world, let us love it for life eternal! The joys of heaven are without ex­ample. Oh that we might then know our names to be written in the book of Life! Oh how should we finde our Spirits ravished with those beautiful Ideas of glory?

Where can we more fitly commend our selves, then unto so vast a bosom of Compassion, as shall set a period to all the miseries of this sinful life? To God (I say) who is an endless Ocean, and boundless Sea of mercy: How can we better fix our thoughts then on our crucified Saviour, and in his countenance, to [Page 66]read the lively characters of that infinite love he bears us: the remembrance of death it self, being sweet to those who lead their life so, as to meet him comforta­bly, as their Judge at the last day. It will be no more to him to die, then is one nights sweet repose on a bed of Roses.

Who can but behold the spirit of Jesus amongst those great Convulsions of the world, moving round about the Cross, in the midst of those bloody dolours, insolent cries, and insupportable blasphemies? O be­hold, and see him there, as in a Sanctuary, bleeding, weeping, and praying, yea mingling his prayers with his tears and blood, and at last, to die unmoveably up­on the Throne of his patience.

Oh madness of men! That spend all their time, encrease their account, and lose so many fair opportu­nities [when they might have gotten heaven for a tear, a sigh, or a groan from a penitent heart] for the attaining of that, which not only proves their eternal ruine hereafter, but occasions their miserable vexation here. O worldlings! Thus to deceive your selves! Who shall weep over you, since you know not how to lament and bewail your selves? Why alas! are you so careful and tender of your bodies, yet daylie entangle your poor souls in a thousand vanities, a thousand Courtships, and a thousand worldly loves, which defile you, and must one day be discharged at a dear rate.

Miserable wretches! How will you then cry out, what have we done? Once had we time to have wrought out our salvation [O precious time!] but these golden days are past: And have we thus misera­bly [Page 67]undone our selves? Come Rocks, and fall upon us! Come ye Furies and tear us, until we moulder in­to nothing.

Sad creatures then as we are, to procrastinate and put off our Repentance! Since the Sun, which goes so many miles in a minute, and the Stars in the Fir­mament, which go many more, make not so much speed, as our body hastens to the Grave. The devou­ring sword, the consuming fire, the winds from the Wilderness, the Diseases of the Body, and all that afflicted holy Job, are still at our heels; what daylie reports do we hear? Such a man is slain, another is drowned, a third breaks his neck; this man died eat­ing, that man playing, another sleeping; this by accident, that by his own hands; Oh how great an Elephant, and yet how small a Mouse can destroy us; a pin, a comb, a hair (pulled out) hath gangren'd: Nay, our joy, our mirth, and laughter, our shame, and blushing may ruine us; and in the very flower of our youth, and blossome of our age, we may be untimely nipt, and sent down into the dust.

And alas! If God but a little withdraw our breath, vain is the power of art, vain is the Physitians skill, vain and fruitless are the sighs and tears of thy friends, yea vain and helpless are the wishes of all our kinsfolk. Here sits one weeping, there another lamenting; yet all to no purpose: Neither is it Beauty, or the Da­mask skin, that can help us, when we feel the slow pace of our panting pulse: It is not mirth, nor great­ness, which can then affect us, when death in a mo­ment shall dissolve all our honour into darkness. The whole world cannot afford us content, when our Soul [Page 68]is expiring from our body. Neither can all her allu­ring baits, smiling blandishments, and beautiful tem­ptations avail thee, when thy spirits shall tremble with affrightful pangs, when all thy senses shall de­cline, and all the faculties of thy soul attempt which way soonest to leave thy body.

O then, that we did but present unto our selves, the sad and miserable condition at present, and the happi­ness which is to come; How effectual it would be to raise up our thoughts from the fading blossoms, and perishing pleasures of this transitory world! How would it comfort us in all conditions whatsoever? How little would we care for the losses and crosses of this world, did we think of a heavenly kingdom?

We are all [in the time of our absence from God] but strangers upon earth: Let us then pass the time of our sojourning here in fear; 1 Pet. 1.17. and then he needs not care for ill usage in his pilgrimage here, who knows he is a King at home. But alas! We too often eat husks, when we should feed on Manna: Great riches cannot make our clothes warm, nor our meat more nourishing, why then do we tumble in the myres of this world?

Seek rather (O Christian Soul!) for that Kingdom whereof there is no end; that Kingdom which is infi­nitely glorious, Luke 1.33. and every way blessed, the King that ruleth is eternal, and they that live there, never die; Let our hearts and mouths be ever filled with the praises of it; Let our thoughts and words ever bend towards it, since we have no other way then this to attain any true and lasting glory.

Let us also wholly resign our selves to him that sent [Page 69]us here. We have too long lived in the Gardens of Adonis, which in the beginning make shew of Flow­ers, but at last bring forth nothing but Thorns. Let us then fix a nail in the wheel of this furious, and yet inconstant Chariot, lest at last we expose our selves to the hazard of a precipitous fall. Can there be a greater victory then to conquer our own tumultuous thoughts, in such a conjuncture of time, when our own ruine lies at stake? Can we better use our choicest skill, then to shake off those enchanting embraces, and turn away our earsfrom those betraying sighs, lest (like that in­solent Conquerour, who was vanquished by his own slave) we become strangely cruel to our selves.

Alas! That we did but consider how fearful will be the case of those who have neglected the day of their salvation! If it be a troublesome thing to be tyed to a Bed of Roses (though but for a little time) with silken strings, oh, what may we think of those damned Souls, which must dwell in a bed of Flames, as long as there is a God!

It will be in vain then to cry to the Hills to fall on us, and to the Mountains to cover us; It will be in vain to repent, and wish we had not slighted the day of our Visitation, nor sold it for a little pleasure: It will be in vain then to cry, Lord, open to us, oh spare us, oh pity us, do not cast us into Eternal Burnings: O what ease! What eternal darkness! Blinded world! Prostituted World! Desperate World! Ah hadst thou but known, Hadst thou but known! But alas! Thy unhappiness hath put a Scarf before thine eyes.

O poor secure Worldlings! What will you then do, when he that will be your Judge, shall come in the [Page 70]clouds of Glory and Majesty? Where will you hide your selves? What shall cover you? Mountains are gone, the Earth and Heavens do pass away, and how do you wish your selves might melt away as they do? But ah, wishes are now in vain! To what end dost thou cry Lord, Lord! It is too late [alas!] too late, why then dost thou look about thee? Whither dost thou run? Can any save thee? Wretches as you are! To what pass have you brought your selves? How happy had you now been if you had believed and obey­ed, having only time left to bewail and lament your miserable condition?

Ah drowsie earthy Creatures! Are you still hang­ing downward, when heaven is before ye? Are you sleeping, when so great a Treasure is set before you? Are ye taken up with your delights and pleasures? Had ye rather sit down in dirt and dung, then walk in the Palace of Heaven? Is it better to be there, then above with your Saviour? Alas, deceived Soul! Come away then out of the Wilderness of this World, make no excuses, frame no delays, look not back on thy worldly business, thy unbridled lusts, thy sinful com­pany which here took up thy thoughts in this howling Desart, this Valley of Tears.

Do but consider how soon thou art to depart hence, then wilt thou finde what thou hast neglected, in fol­lowing trifles, and so much minding thy provision in the way, whilst thou art hastening so fast to another world, and thy eternal happiness lies at stake. How wilt thou then cry out upon thy rocky heart, thy proud and unbelieving heart, thy Atheistical, and Ido­latrous, and worldly heart, yea thy carnal and sensual [Page 71]heart, for here toyling, and selling an endless glory for worldly vanities, and adventuring the loss of hea­ven, for the pleasure of sin; to have thy portion in this life (where the best things are often the lot of the most miserable wretches) and to lose thy part in hea­ven, and eternal happiness; to take up thy ease and dwelling here in a nest of straw of wind and vanity, [the greatest of Plagues, and forest of curses which God can give thee over to] and to lose thy part in Pa­radise, and thy Mansion in the heavenly Jerusalem.

But oh the strange aversness of our souls from God! that we should account our misery a happiness! Nay, that we should rather groan under any intolerable burden and servitude, then seek our happiness in him! That we should think these Honours delightful, that Beauty tempting, those goods, lands, and houses, our dependance, that merry company our solace, that health and strength contentful, those buildings, walks, apparel, and pastimes to be pleasant, and (after all those seeming enjoyments, and heart-contenting thoughts) we shall look behinde us, and see death with open mouth proclaiming these words; Fool, this night shall thy soul be taken from thee.

O gross Idolatry, to make any creature, or means, our relyance! To place any dependance on the worlds favours! to settle our soul upon such hazardous enjoy­ments, or to say, here am I well, here will I rest. And wilt thou here rest (oh my soul!) on the top of those tempestuous mountains? Wilt thou swallow down those deceitful baits, where death is nearest, when the pleasure seems sweetest? Alas! Settle not in this pe­rishing world, where all our days are sorrow, and our labour, grief.

The Souls solitude and content in her Separation from the great enticements of the world.

HOw strange a thing is it, that God is always with us, and we are so little with him? We have our life, our being, our moving from him, and yet all this while we scarce know what he is. Alas! What is the cause? But that our eyes are dazled with the false lights of the world, they are darkned with so many mists and vapours of our own appetites and passions, as that we cannot see the goods of heaven in the brightest of the day.

Whereas (to speak true) our Soul should always be languishing after her Jesus, and count it a sad thing to be separated from him so much as in thought. Would we but learn a little to talk with him; O how would it sweeten the sadness of our Pilgrimage, by the con­templation of his Beauties! Were we but embarqued in his Vessel, while we sayl on the Seas of this trou­blesom world, we would not amuze our selves to ga­ther Cockles on the shore, but we would always have our eyes fixed upon Paradice.

Or had we but our eyes well opened, to penetrate and see what the world is, we should finde its chains (indeed) to have a certain pleasure, and seeming vi­gour in them, but only painted, and attended with a most certain sorrow, and uncertain contentment. Yea, we should then say of all the most ravishing Objects thereof, How senseless was I when I Courted you? O deceitful World! Thou didst appear great to me, when I saw thee not as thou art, but so soon as I did [Page 73]see thee aright, thou wert no mo more to me but just nothing.

Whither then dost thou straggle, O my Soul; Whi­ther dost thou fly? O seek out him, who hath mark­ed his steps with his great Conquests! Who hath made visible his way by his own light, paved it with his wounds, and watered it with his most precious blood. Say unto him (at least) O my Jesus! Stay with me, for it is late in my heart, and the night is far advanced by the want of true light. Alas (O my Lord!) wherefore art thou pleased to hide thy self from a Soul that languisheth for thee? Ah! Take away the vail from my eyes, and suffer thy self to be seen in the habit of thy excellent Beauties!

Oh my God! If I cannot enter as sorrowful as I would into my grave, I will yet go repentant into some obscure and savage Cave, where the Sun shall no more shine on a head so sinful as mine, or trace some desart mountains, where with freedom I may pour forth my sighs and complaints. There will I make that mouth which hath been often the gate of unchaste and idle speeches, to become a Temple of thy Praises. There shall those arms and hands, which have been the chains of wanton embracements, have room enough to be lifted up in prayer to heaven: mine eyes (O mine eyes!) which first received that fire which hath so passionately devoured my Soul, shall there turn Fountains, and want no water to wash that heart which hath so long been a burning Furnace of worldly lusts and affections: and those feet which have strayed in the ways of sin and wickedness, shall there traverse and weary themselves in the desolate paths of Furies and wilde Beasts.

[Page 74]Briefly, O my God! Since I have so betrayed my heart, abused my youth, spent prodigally thy treasures, and made Crowns of silver to the Idol of my own inventions; since I have forsaken thee, who art the unchangeable, eternal, and incomparable goodness, (and without whom all other goods are nothing) to follow the wanton fires of my own lusts; where a­las? shall I finde Tears sufficient to wash away my Offences? Where shall I finde parts enow of my bo­dy to be offer'd up as the Sacrifice of my Repentance? Wash me, wash me again, O my Jesus! Make clean, I beseech thee (merciful Saviour!) my most sinful Soul; What though it were as black as hell, yet (be­ing once in thy hands) how soon will it become more white then that Dove of silver wings, whereof the Prophet speaks!

Oh my God! Have some pity on that heart, which is so many times torn in pieces, and strays among so great a multitude of Objects, which estrange, and draw me from thee! Draw me (O Lord!) from the great throng of so many inferiour things, that so I may retyre into my own heart, and finde peace in thee. Make me to see the first beams of that Liber­ty which thou grantest to thy children. Ah! When shall my thoughts return from wandring in those bar­ren Regions where thou art not acknowledged? When shall they cease to run in full career after all that pleaseth their sense, and account thy Cross only, and the Throne on Mount Calvary, to be the true Path-way to heaven?

Here I am (I confess) in the Wilderness of sin, in the Desart of this world; O when shall I be re-uni­ted, [Page 75]and so purifyed by thy favours, that I may cele­brate continual days of Feasting in my Soul! I was one of those [and I cannot deny it] that through my sins, helped to apprehend thee in that obscure and dolorous night, wherein thou wert betrayed; and when thou enteredst into the Garden of Mount Oli­vet; to expiate the sin committed [in a Garden] by our first Parents; Were not my sins then the Tray­tors that laid hold on thee? Were they not my sins which drew those bitter sorrows from those most dainty Sweets? Which made thee suffer pains in a place of delight, and turn'd that place which was made for Recreation, into a dismal Den of Desola­tion?

Oh sad change! Ah, my Jesus! What hath my sins brought upon thee? Those Olives, which were tokens of Peace, did there denounce War against thee; the Plants there did groan, the Flowers were flowers of death, and those clear Fountains, were turn'd to fountains of sweat and blood: What then remains, but that I be now ashamed of all the fading curiosi­ties of the world? Ah! Shall I not study this Gar­den? And (forsaking all other pleasures) make my heart fit ground for Jesus to reside and delight in? O beautiful Garden! since made so by the sighs of my dear Saviour. Here let me only breathe in thy walks, let me lose my self, that I may never be lost with my God: Let me gather thy flowers, since thou hast deckt them with thy blood; Let me wash my self in those Fountains which thou hast sanctified with thy sweat.

O my dear Saviour! Let me have no other Will but thine. Wilt thou be abridged of thy own Will, [Page 76]to give me an example of mortifying my Passions, and shall I retain any wicked or inordinate appetite? Hast thou (like the Dove of Noah's Ark) escaped the Deluge of so many Passions, and torrents of dolours, falling headlong so fast on one another, to bring me green Olive-branch of peace, and shall my soul be so audacious, as to wage war against thee by my sins? O what earth could then open wide enough to swal­low me! What, thus to live with a hand stretched out against heaven, which pours out for nothing but Flow­ers and Roses? Out alas!

No, no, Raign (O my dear Saviour!) within all the conquered powers of my Soul. Let thy Wounds be the adored Altars of my Vows: Let me hereupon promise an inviolable fidelity to thy service; Let me live no more but for thee, since thou makest my life to flourish with thy tryumphant Resurrection.

Ah my Soul! Dost thou want any thing to provoke thy Love? Is there not a Sea of Love here before thee? Cast thy self in then, and swim in the Ocean thereof: Sit no longer under the weeping banks of worldly sorrow; Thou hast long sate mourning with Hagar, Gen. 21.15. 1 Kin. 19.6. 2 King. 6.16. in this Valley of Tears. Thou hast long been in the posture of Elias, sit­ting down under the Tree, forlorn and solitary; yea, desiring rather to die then to live. Nay, how many times hast thou cryed out (with Elisha) Alas, What shall I do? and with passionate Jonah, I am weary of my life?

When shall I be out of this frail, this corruptible Body, this ruinous, ensnaring, and deceiving flesh? O when shall I be out of this vexatious world, whose [Page 77]vain pleasures are but deluding Dreams? What re­mains then, O my Soul! But that thou strive to get out of this sink of sadness, this skin full of groans, this snow-bail of Tears, this Carcass of fears, this channel of the wa [...]rs of affliction, and betake thy self wholly into the arms of thy Saviour.

The Soul complaineth of her Condition and Misery, by reason of the darkness and ignorance of sin.

THe Spirit of Man naturally tendeth to God, as its first cause; neither can take any contentment without him, though too often (indeed) hindered by the weight of the Body, and the bait of Concupi­scence. He will what God will; loves what God loves; and if in this wayfaring life, his love sticks upon frivolous objects [which like foolish Fires, lead him into precipices and dangerous paths] he speedily complains how much he is misguided.

Now the reason hereof is, That as every thing tend­eth to the imitation of its Original, so a Soul [truly Christian] hath all its strength and vigour from God. He is the end of all his works; and if God chance to fail it, the whole Fabrick of its salvation falls to the ground.

When a gracious heart hath its eyes cleared by the Rays of Divine Majesty, he is at the end of its jour­ney, and no longer entertaineth a multiplicity of de­sires, since he hath found the Center of Eternal rest. And well then may the Soul of man, which is out of the Limits which God hath assign'd it, finde Inns to lodge in, but never finde a Home to reside in.

[Page 78]Alas, then what is our life, and the affairs of man? That which is past, is nothing; the present is a fanta­sie; and the future an Abyss; where even those that stand on the brink, see not any thing. Our life (on­ly) is hid in Christ, as saith the Apostle. And surely, he only who knows how to accommodate himself to the Will of his Saviour, knows only how to live, and hath found the industry of an infinite happiness, in the accomplishment of his desires.

Neither is there any thing so turmoiled, so torn, and so divided, as a Soul, which hath always before it the Image of its own crimes. And this is it which makes the Vermilion of the cheeks to fade; that maketh paleness to overspread all the face; hence is it, that a miserable man being fallen as it were into a Tempest [not foreseen] cryes out, Humane hopes, where are ye? Ah true dreams of aery Fancies! Fleeting fires! which shine not but to extinguish your selves, and (being put out) bereave us of all true light, leaving only the ill savour and sorrow of losing all your seem­ing glories: To what shall I compare your Beauties? but to those who carry under a smooth face, a heart spotted like the skin of a Panther? What are your Pleasures, but like those enchanted Islands, which recoyl backward, and vanish when men most think to approach them.

Alas my Tears! What fitness can ye finde to be­moan my misery? Alas, my eyes! Why are those flames, which once so sweetly blazed in you, now fal­len into an Eclipse? My voice is interrupted, and words imperfectly spoken; all the Organs and Bands of my Body are loosened and untyed; Oh how doth [Page 79]fear and trembling spread it self over all the Basis of Natures building?

Nor is this evil passion, content only to seize on our Body, but it flyeth to the superiour Region of our Soul, to cause disorder, robbing it (almost in a mo­ment) of memory, understanding, judgement, will, courage; yea rendering us benumm'd, dull, and stupid in all our actions, and would a thousand times over­come us with Melancholy, were it not from the con­solations drawn from the fountain of true piety. A­las, O Lord! How is our Soul confounded to see so many sparkles of pride, lust, and covetousness, arise from this Caitiff dust, which we are compos'd of! So little do we learn how to live, and so late how to die: which made S. Austin cry out, My God, my life, and my happiness! I confess my misery unto thee, after so many temporal consolations have separated me from thee!

Thus is the poor Soul ever bewailing her condition, and bedewing that face with mournful Tears, wherein God once caused the sanctity of a gracious heart to be resplendent. And though formerly it had seem'd chearful, yet now alas, behold it (though heretofore retaining the vigour of holy alacrity) altogether dis­solved with austerities and maladies: Nothing but spectres of terrors, ruine, outrages, solitudes, dark­nesses, revengeful thunders and innovations, extream­ly weaken and affright the heart, until (at last) having reckoned up the dolours which on every side environ­ed her Saviour, she raiseth up her self (like the Palm) against the weight of her afflictions.

O inestimable Bounty! O greatness unheard of! O inexhaustible love of God! whose goodness is [Page 80]such, not only thus to divert our miseries, and fit them to our condition, but even from our Tears, to draw sweetness and consolation for our solace! Now as pious Hannah forsook all the distracted looks which sorrow caused in her, after she had conceived the lit­tle Samuel, so doth the poor Soul (being again ho­noured with the re-enjoyment of God in its heart, drive away all the disturbances of grief and sadness. Oh (saith she) what thoughts of Satan are these, to deliver up my self to distrust of comfort in the sight of a Jesus, who beareth my reconciliation on his sacred wounds, and pleadeth my cause before his eternal Fa­ther, with as many mouths as my sins in him have made wounds.

It is not possible I should doubt of his love and fa­therly goodness; if I look upon his hands, I shall there see it written with those nails that pierc'd them, I shall see it in his side which was opened for me, by that Lance which digged out the remainder of his life. Alas! Who was more destitute then man? more bru­tish and ignorant in so great a night, and horrible con­fusions? Who was more unfurnished with wise dire­ctions? And yet he affordeth us his examples: Who more forlorn? And yet he adopteth us for chil­dren: Who more needy? And yet he giveth us the treasure of his merits: Who more hungry? And yet he feedeth us with his flesh and blood: Who more imhappy? And yet how doth he divide every part of his body amongst us.

O goodly spectacle to behold! How he blesseth us with his presence! How he replenisheth us by his greatness! How he governeth us by his power, and [Page 81]sanctifieth us by his influences? Oh for ever unhap­py! If after so many benefits we remain still faith­less and ungrateful: Lord! As thou revealest to me more of my misery, so reveal also more of thy mer­cy. I confess my self (indeed) to be too often intan­gled in some pleasant or profitable Lust: Satan is the Bellows, my corruption the tinder, and the world the wilde-fire to burn my soul, and so dangerously to withdraw my love, as that although (O my Saviour) thou art still calling me, yet am I loth to leave my Bed of ease, Cant. 5.1. How justly then (to prevent my spiritual pride) mayest thou leave me in ignorance and darkness, as thou didst thy Spouse; yea, to go to enquire, to pray, and yet not finde the light of thy presence?

But O Lord! Leave not this poor Soul of mine, but make it to understand the unmeasurableness of thy Bounties and Mercy! Oh for that day, when this knowledge of mine [now childish and darksome] shall be turned into a full and clear Vision; O happy dark­ness, if thus to become lightsome! The more hidden thou art now [blessed Saviour!] the more glorious wilt thou be then. Ah, that my heavie thoughts had the wings of an Angel, to soar aloft, amongst those celestial Quires!

Me-thinks I see (when thou shalt be pleas'd to re­move the skreen of my mortal body, which now de­tains me from thy presence, and interrupts the view of thy glory) how nothing will be able to hinder the eagerness of my Soul, from flying to thee. Me-thinks I see Eternity too short to enjoy thee. Surely, there's no possibility of pleasure without thee, no faculty of [Page 82]Soul to wish, or think any thing but thee; yea, my Soul would more willingly wain into nothing, then part with thee; Thee, my only incomprehensible and Eternal All, my dear, dearest Lord and God!

Adieu then those charming warbles of a fleeting and deceitful world! O merciful Father! Behold my prodigal Soul, which returns unto thee: Receive me as a mercenary servant, if thou wilt not receive me as a Son; for I resolve no longer now to run after the salt waters of worldly pleasures and contentments. The light of thy countenance is far better then life it self, being able to turn the shaddows of death into life, and the midnight of the sharpest adversities into the noon-tide of joy and chearfulness.

Oh how great is the clemency of God, to hide from us the greatest part of things which will befal us in the world! The knowledge whereof, would continu­ally overwhelm our wretched life with sadness and affrightment, and give us no leave to breathe among the delicious Objects of the earth. Had many great and eminent persons (mounted on the highest degree of honour) but seen how they were still falling into endless Abysses; or beheld the change of their For­tune, and the bloody ends of their life, it is impossi­ble but the joys of their Tryumphs would have been moistned with Tears, and (through a perpetual fear of inevitable necessity) they would have lost all the mo­ments of their felicity.

And did the poor and seemingly forsaken Soul, thorowly at once apprehend the severe anger of an omnipotent God, what alas, would it do, when it sees it self menaced by the hideous and affrightful terrors [Page 83]and mischiefs of Satan? What shall the poor heart do, when God is pleas'd to write bitter things against it; when he shall scare it with dreams, and terrifie it with Visions? Surely, not pains, imprisonments, poverty, or death it self can be more troublesome to it.

Whereas the comforts of a quiet conscience (be­calmed with the gracious in-comes of Gods gracious presence, and enlightned with his glorious Beams, which expel the darkness and ignorance of our cursed Nature) as are so many threads of gold, which involve us here below in precious repose, and a certain expe­ctation of beatitude, until at last we finde wings to take our flight to the City of Peace and Refuge, pro­mised unto us by that mouth which never erred, and whose Laws are established upon foundations stronger then the pillars of heaven and earth, and where we shall receive the excellent Promises, and clearest re­velations of Eternity.

The Soul admires the infinite Riches of her Saviours Love, in taking Humane Nature upon him.

WIth what admiration is not the heart of man seized on, when he entereth into the great Abysses which are discovered in our Redemption, and when he seeth Jesus [a Saviour] to reveal unto us the secrets and wisdome of heaven, by his blessed Incar­nation.

For what saw he in our Nature, but a brutish body, and a Soul all covered over with crimes, and wholly drenched in remediless miseries? Or what could he set before him, but a miserable ungracious wretch, cast [Page 84]forth upon the face of the Earth, wallowing in un­cleanness, abandoned to all sorts of scorns and inju­ries: And yet behold how the Prince of Glory look­ing on us with the eyes of his mercy, taketh us, wash­eth, cloatheth, adorneth, and tyeth us to himself, by a hand of infinite Love: He laid aside the beautiful Angels, and came upon earth to seek this lost crea­ture, though a Foe to his Honour, and injurious to his Glory.

See, O my Soul! How that God [far beyond all other created Essences] hath been so liberal, as to be­stow himself on thee! He bowed the Heaven, and came down, rendering his sacred Person subject to all the misery of humanity; to bruises, to tearings, to shatters, to violences, oppositions, and tyrannies; and all to accomplish a King of sorrow, calamity, and scorn. He laid aside all the Prerogatives of his most perfect Soul, exposing it to labours, to tears, and griefs, to those stupendious Throws in the Garden, which made him cry out in those expressive words, My God! My God! To what a point hast thou let me to be brought! and in the end, to be commended even to death it self.

How alas! didst thou abandon thy body to heat, to cold, to weakness, to hunger, to thirst, to travel, to weariness, to fear, to sadness of Soul, and death it self?

What was it but Love, and Love alone, that brought down God from heaven, to be incarnate in the womb of a Virgin, and to suffer all the hardships [not sin­ful] to which humane Nature is subject? So that thou art not able to conceive the multitude and greatness, [Page 85]nor any way comprehend the worth of his mercies. And what then canst thou say, but only lie gasping with admiration, of so vast, so unknown a goodness, and sigh out the rest in the Center of thy heart?

Good God What sublimate is made in the Lim­beck of Love? What attractive was there in Humane Nature, to draw thee from the highest part of the hea­vens to its love? Thou (out of thy goodness) wouldst not lose him, who (through his own weakness) de­lighteth to lose himself.

O miracle! That humane Nature should be thus tyed to the Divine! That glory should be separated from the estate and condition of glory, yeilding his Soul up as a prey to sadness! O dear Saviour! Thou stretchest out thy hand to him, who turns his back to thee. Man flyeth as a Fugitive, and thou pursuest him even to the shaddow of Death: What may we say more of so profuse a Bounty? Oh how thou courtest sinful flesh! Being not content to pardon his crimes, but even through thy own death to procure him a Kingdom.

All the ancient Patriarchs, who were persecuted in times past, and all the glorious Martyrs, who since our Saviour have endured such torments, made but a tryal of his Dolours: Impatient souls then as we are! Can we expect a greater motive to suffering, then to have our Saviour for an example? Who then will complain? Or who is the man who cannot bear a small burden (to which he is tyed by duty and nature) when he beholds this great Abyss of love, of mercy, of dolours, of ignomy, of blood, of lowliness, of ad­miration and amazement, which swalloweth up all [Page 86]thoughts, dryeth up all mouths, and stayeth all Pens and hands.

And canst thou, O my Soul! after all this, think any cross heavie, any affliction hard to endure? Canst thou chuse but be vexed and enraged at thy repinings? O my great and only good! Suppress those unreason­able follies which boyl in my Breast; Make me know that whatsoever happens, good or bad to me, is my best portion, because it comes from thee. O rich Treasure! O mass of glory! In proportion to which, all the labours and tribulations which Men or Divels can heap on me, are nothing considerable.

Thou hast seen also, O my Soul! with what unpa­rallell'd addresses, and exquisite inventions the Lord hath sought thee, and wooed thy love. He gave thee heaven and earth, with all their creatures, for thy mo­tives to serve and love him. He made himself thy fel­low and brother in flesh and blood; yea, he hath heaped on thee all the Names and Titles of Endear­ment, which either Nature or Use have introduced among mankinde. He is thy Father, thy Spouse, thy Friend, thy Ransomer out of danger, thy Redeemer from thraldome and slavery, thy Saviour from death and misery; yea, he is thy food, thy drink, thy self.

O Eternal Wisdomed How truly then didst thou say, It was thy delight to be with the Sons of men: Can Angels boast of such Priviledges, of such ten­dernesses, of such Extasies of Love? No, None but so weak a Nature as Ours, was able to neces­sitate Goodness it self, to so deep a condescendence as this; and none but all goodness could so appro­priate it self to all infirmities. O melting good­ness, [Page 87]that fillest every Corner thou findest capable of thy perfection!

We find the holy Phrenzie of Love, to have pos­sessed many of the Saints of God, here on earth, Mo­ses, out of his extream love to his Country-men, wish­ed himself blotted out of the Book of God, Exod. 32.32. S. Paul wished himselfe accursed, unless his brethren might be saved with him, Rom. 9.3. But if ever any exceeded in Love, above all the Love that was in the world; it was thou O Saviour! Joh. 10.20. who in the excess of thy Love to thy very Enemies, wouldest suffer thy Self to be taken, delivered up, and shameful­ly put to death, for them.

And in consideration whereof, it seems S. Hierom cryes out; Oh, ungrateful man to thy God, whosoever thou art! considerest thou not the wonderful Love of him who is the Lord of heaven, to be delighted thus to do, and to suffer for thee? And thinkest thou thy selfe better, when thou art in the company of the wicked, and prophane? Return Shunamite, return. And surely, methinks, we should not here so greedily seek after the delights and contentments of Nature; seeing the God of Nature so roughly handled in the world, which he built with his own hands. Ah! should not the Example of our Saviour, make us ashamed, when we nearly consider the sorrow of his life, and the ig­nomy of his death!

We read of one further, who) considering this height of mercy, which aboundeth with all Riches, and hath the plenitude of all happiness) cryeth out in a great Extasie; O Love! What hast thou done? Thou hast changed God into man; thou hast drawn him out of the [Page 88]lustre of his Majesty, to make him a Pilgrim here on Earth; thou hast shut him nine moneths in the wombe of a Virgin;Tu deum in ho­minem demutatum voluisti, tu deum abbreviatum pau­l sper à majestatis suae immenfitate, &c. Zeno. Ser. de Fide, Spe. & Charit.thou hast annihilated the Kingdom of Death, when thou taughtest God to dye.

Ah, Love indeed! which drowneth all humane thoughts, which swalloweth all earthly affections, which causeth the Spirit to forget it selfe, and to look on nothing but Heaven. A Love which An­gels study, and admire, whichman could not be with­out, and conceived in that fire, which Jesus came to enkind [...]e on earth, to enflamethe whole world.

Alas! who can chuse but admire to think, how thou, O blessed Jesus descendest from the highest part of Heaven, to take our Nature upon thee, to charge thy self with our debts; to lay our Burdens and Mi­series on thy own shoulders, to lodge in the silly Cot­tage of our Heart; to be dispoiled of all for us; to become our Riches, by thy Poverty; Strength to us, by thy weakness. To become Contemp­tible, to make us Glorious; and full of Suffer­ings, to ease our servitude. To make thy selfe of a King, of Glory, a man of Sorrows, and to pur­chase our happiness with as many wounds, as thou hadst [...]embers.

And shall none of those Arrowes and shafts, fly­ing on every side of thee (O my Soul!) wound thee to him? shall none of his Favours, Benefits, and Affections, descend into thee, to fill and replenish thee with flames of thankfulness and love? Canst [Page 89]thou still continue obdurate in the midst of those bur­ning ardors, and not be wholly captivated with his Bounty; yea, altogether inebriated with the Exta­sies of his Love? Canst thou think of the infinite love of thy Saviour, in suffering for thee, and not ad­mire his goodness? Canst thou read the History of his life [a life of Dolours from the Cradle to his Grave] and peruse it, without compassion? canst thou think of his death, and not commix the waters of thine eyes, with those of his water, and blood? Ah! canst thou consider all this, and not perpetually languish with fervent desires; yea, cause thy soul to melt and dissolve with spiritual languour, on the heart of thy beloved?

O mirrour! O Perfection! mine eyes dazel in be­holding thy Love; my Pen fails in writing thy Praises. O blind, if thou knowest not! O insensible, if thou neglectest it! and O unfortunate, if thou loosest it! Go and see the Ashes of those who have been burnt with the worlds love, and thou shalt see nothing com­parable to his Love, who came to put us into the pos­session of all his greatness, by surcharging himselfe with our miseries.

It may be, thou hast seen some to die on an Earth­ly Scaffold, who with the sweetness of their counte­nances, terrified the most terrible aspects of their Executioners. They did, they spake, they suffered, they ordered their death, as matter of triumph. They comforted others, in a time, when they had much to do, not to complain themselves; But here, here is a Banquet, which carries with it all the benefits of Life, yet attended with an Edict of Death. Here's Cruelty [Page 90]mingled with Delights, Joy with Sorrow, and Plea­sures with Funerals.

Ah! what more could he possibly have done, then thus to suffer for us? He hath washed us in his blood, he hath regenerated us into his Love. If we endure any thing for him, he endureth with us; he weepeth for us, he prepareth eternal springs of consolations for us; yea, he mingleth all our griefs in the inexpli­cable sweetnesses of his bounty.

O the excellency of divine Love, which thus cau­seth a Calm to be found in a Tempest, Safety in the midst of Dangers, Life on the brinck of Death, Com­fort in Disasters, an Upholding in the midst of Weak­ness, and which protects so many people under the shadow of its Branches. Happy Souls! which flyes hence into heaven, enricht with the purple stains of so heavenly a Fountain! yea, happy are the wounds from whence flow so much virtue and goodness.

What greater mercy could there be, then to see a Humane Nature, sought unto by God, which was once despoiled of the Robe of Honour, and Diadem of Glory, as a just chastisement of its Rebellions, and condemned to a Prison of Flames and Darkness, even then, when it was unable to free it selfe; and when neither Angel, nor Man, could deliver it from the misery whereinto it was plunged; To see it (I say) sought unto by God, when it flew from him; and to consider how so heavenly a Father (transport­ed with unspeakable love) said unto it, Take my on­ly Son to redeem thee from thy many remediless ca­lamities: And this onely Son disdaineth not to be­come its Ransom, and delivered himself for it, to Tor­ments [Page 91]so enormious, and Confusions so hideous.

What shall we further admire in the ineffable my­stery of the Incarnation? Can there be any thing in the world greater then a Man-God? If we cast our eyes on our heavenly Father, we there see a work of the power of his Arm, wherein he seems to have ex­hausted all his strength. The Heaven and the Stars (saith Gregory Nyssen) were but the works of the Fingers of this divine Majesty; but in the Incarnati­on, he proceedeth with all the extent of his might, with all the Engines of his power, and Miracles of his greatness.

Blessed Jesus! who can chuse but love and adore thee, who wert not content onely to reconcile us to thy Father, but espousedst our Nature, and unitedst it to thy selfe by an indissoluble Band, we naturally use to shew an aversion, and dislike to such persons as are loathsome, mishapen, and infected; and if, with those defects, we find a Soul, wicked, ungrate­ful, and an Enemy to God, we conceive him with such horror, as that we had need be more then men to endure him. But were not we in as bad estate as this? for besides the mis-fortunes and calamities which en­compassed us on all sides, were we not Enemies to God, by being too much a friend to our selves? and yet all this while, he accepteth us, and appropriateth us unto himselfe amongst all these contrarieties.

The Soul checks her selfe for her backwardness, and too much neglect of her Saviours invitations.

WHat imagination is sufficiently powerful, to figure to its selfe, the ardent dolours of a wounded Soul, who (desiring to be free, and purifi­ed from the contagions of the earth, and apprehend­ing the shadows of the least sinnes) hath its spirit sei­sed on with the consciousness of some more hainous and grosser omissions? How hard a matter is it for the Soul, to guid the Helm of Reason in so tempestu­ous a storm of disturbances, and (in so dead a night of misery) to adore the Ray of Gods Providence, since almost swallowed in the depth of her sorrows?

But Nature having at last evicted a huge Tide of Tears, she thus sighs out the other in Complaints. My God! how justly have my sins deserved this de­solate condition? yea, to endure the Trial of those sorrows which might ever befall the thoughts of a wretched Creature? How happy, alas! are those pure and innocent Souls, who have departed from their Bodies, when they were ignorant of the sinnes which have approached my knowledge, and defiled my thoughts? They, like little blossoms, were cut off in the tenderness of their Age; and thrice happy had my Soul been to have been transported into the other world, before I had felt that trouble and anguish of Spirit, which [through the sense and horrour of my sinnes, in refusing those gracious tenders of a merci­full Saviour] now so sadly afflicts me.

O wicked and ungrateful heart! it is thou which art the source and spring of all my disasters: wretch! [Page 93]whether goest thou? what hast thou to do with the things of the world, which will at last ruine thee? wilt thou thus cast underfoot the Laws of thy God! Is it not madness to let pass so many golden Harvests, which time presents thee, and to sow nothing but wind and vanity, which onely return thee thorns and sorrows, and at last, abandons thee as a Pilgrime rob'd and dispoil'd by a Thief?

O poor Soul! wilt thou live rather amongst feavers and burning coals, in an inconstant world, then tie thy self to the will of God? Miserable man, to have thy heart fill'd with such restless desires! wilt thou (like Ravens) be ever feeding upon Carrion? Is it for such infamous pleasures, thou renouncest the de­lights of heaven? unhappy man! where wilt thou find place to rest on at the last? Dost thou forget the words of the Prophet, Jer. 17.11. Silly Partridge, thou broodest borrowed Eggs, thou hast hatched Birds which were not thine, let them fly since thou canst not hold them. And canst thou yet fix thy beatitude upon this Gold, that Silver, that Beauty, that Profit, and Pleasure, as on a little Divinity? Is not Jesus (thy Saviour) enough to content thee? must a world be made of Gold, and Roses, to please thee?

Alas, senseless Soul! canst thou have any better Object to behold, then a Saviour on the Cross, all naked, and who in his nakedness giveth all things? Oh! how little are all things mortall with him, who looks upon a God immortal! Blessed Jesus! having thee for my guid, I will walk confidently in the shades of death, since they cannot separate me from the fountain of life. I came not into the world glitter­ing [Page 94]with precious Stones, neither can I go out poorer then I came. Let Poverty then come against me with all its terrours, I shall account it a Glory to die poor, for a God so dispoiled. If Banishment come, what need I care what Land be under my feet, so my eyes be fixed in Heaven. Or what (at last) can Imprison­ment, Fetters, Gibbets, yea death it selfe take from me but a life of Pismires, and Flies, and a miserable Carkass, subject to a thousand deaths?

And woe unto that Soul, the darkness of whose understanding is so great, that though Jesus be all light he cannot see him? how deprived is that will, who though he be all goodness he cannot love? How are his affections perverted, who though he be all po­wer, will yet refuse to submit unto him? Alas! how art thou estranged from him! when thou wert created, it was by his power; If thou live, it is by his bounty; if thou move, it is by his assistance; If thou lie down, he sustaineth thee; if thou sleep, he refresheth thee; if thou awake, he enlightneth thee; if thou read, he teach­eth thee; if thou eat, he nourisheth thee; if thou art cloathed, he warms thee; no Creature being able towork by its own strength, having all but dependent Beings from God alone.

Miserable wretches then as we are! as not to see him with our bodily eyes, so not to behold his Glory in our most retired Meditations! that he should be all brightness, yet we view him not; all sweetness, yet we taste him not; That he should be in all places, yet we feel him not: alas! what strangers are we in the House of our Father? O that our life here, should be fuch an estrangement from him, and that when [Page 95]we most behold him, it should be but as it were in a Glass darkly:

Draw nearer then (O my Soul!) bring forth thy strongest burning Love; here's matter for thee to work upon; here's something truly worth thy loving. Oh see what bounty presents it self? Is not all the Goodness in the world contracted here? Is not all the Beauty in the world deformity to it? Here is comfort for thy Soul, and a feast for thine eyes. Ah! that ever thou shouldest need to be invited to feed on it! That thou shouldst be invited to love where thou feel'st a heavenly sweetness accompanying it, and where the very Act of loving is unexpressi­bly sweet. O what wouldst thou give for such a life, couldst thou be all love, and alwaies loving!

Come away then (O my Soul) stand no longer looking on that Beauty, admiring this Face, or Ido­lizing these earthly shadowes. But behold that Glo­ry, which is onely to be enjoyed in the lap of Eterni­ty. Ah that thou couldst bid the world farewel, and here immure thy self! that thou couldst shut the door upon thee, and injoy the sweet content of divine and heavenly Meditation! But Oh the dulness of thy de­sires, after so great a happiness! How doth thy back­wardness accuse thee of Ingratitude? must thy Savi­our procure thee Heaven at so dear a rate, and wilt thou not more value it? must he purchase thy life by the Pangs of a bitter death? must he go before and prepare a Mansion, and art thou loath to follow? must his blood, and pains, and care be lost? O unworthy and ungrateful Soul! what is loathing, if this be love? Ah wretched Creature, if thou art not ashamed to neglect so great a mercy!

The Soul repents the time that ever she was Cloistered up in the walls of Clay, and thrown into the Dungeon of that corrupt mass of Flesh.

THe Soul of Man, being embarqued in the dange­rous Sea of this world, where her adventure is very hazardous, and full of Rocks; and having no Port to put in at, but either Repentance or Death, bewailes the want of her Pilot, without whose gui­dance, she is sure to meet with a miserable shipwrack, and which she conceives as natural to her, as swim­ing is to Fishes, flight to Birds, beauty in Flowers, and rayes in the Sun.

Woe is me (saith he) that ever I was born, to see the Light! Why did my Mother rejoyce to hear me cry! and to receive the news that I was a living Soul? when first I entered into the world, I bore the Image of my Creator in some lustre and glory; but since that time my first Parents (who bore (as it were) in one Vessel, the Riches of all Mankind) had lost all that, which wretches might lose, or men desire, and which (with grief) we yet deplore; its scarce discernable in me, in regard of those Leaprous spots of sin, and taintures of iniquity which I have contracted from those frail corporeal Organs which have so pittifully dis-figured and transformed me, as that the Character of my God is almost lost in me.

Alas! I am but an unweildly lump of Earth, a meer passive thing of my self! Those eyes of mine which should have been as christal Casements, through which I might behold the glorious Firmament, and study my Creator in the Volums of Nature, have let out [Page 97]the Beams of vanity and lightness. Those Ears, which should have let in wholsome precepts, and holy ex­hortations, have been no other then Trunks to re­ceive idle discourses, and vain sounds. That Mouth and Tongue, which should have sounded out the prai­ses and glory of my Creator, and sung Halelujahs to him, have been instruments of Equivocation, Sinne, and Prophaness. Those hands which were design'd to deeds of Charity, have been employed in evill and sinful works. That Throat, which was intended as a Conduit-pipe to poure out divine and pious Ejacula­tions, hath been made the instruments of Luxury and excess. And those Feet, which were made to walk in the paths of Piety and Virtue, have been used to run into the Road of al Licentiousness.

But oh! when I examine my heart [the seat of my affections] what a sinck of sin, a Cage of un­clean Birds, do I find it; and whereas I should have made it a Closet for my Saviour to sit and reside in, alas! what Hatred, what Hypocrisie, what spiritual Pride and Choler hath infected every corner there­of? And if I look further; how shall I find every Cell of my Brain infected. My Fantasy is become wild and extravagant: my Memory hath been more mindfull of bad, then good things; my Understand­ing full of darkness, my Will wholly blinded, my Reason strangely besotted, and my Imagination wholly puffed up with airy passions, and malignant humours, which interpose between me, and the glo­rious Beams of my Saviour.

Ah, whether have the Councels of those transpor­ted me, which desire the ruine of my Soul! How am [Page 98]I environed with admires of Lusts, and besieged with Legions of inordinate affections? Miserable that I am! what shall I do to hinder the designs of my na­turall Corruptions? Alas! How they prevail against me? unhappy that I am! that the Sun which this day shines so bright over my head, should see his face de­filed with the stains of my sins!

What do I here in this house of Pleasure, where we seem to enter in by five Gates, which are all Crown­ed with Roses, and bear the face of youth and prospe­rity? Are not those five Gates, the five Senses, by which all the passages are made into carnal pleasures, and the vain delights of the world? Is this the way to live like a Christian, to walk according to the Rules and propensions of Nature? Is this the Babylon of worldly hopes, which in the beginning sheweth it self as a Miracle, carrying Hony in the lip, Light in the face, but Poyson in the tail?

Why, alas! should I thus live in the fervours of a Feaver? why should I desire to live in that greatness, which will onely serve to make my fall the more mi­serable? Why should I rest upon those worldly com­forts, whose acquisition is painful, whose fruition uncertain, and taste unsavory. And how pleasing so­ever they appear in the dawning of the day, seeming in the first springing to be spread with Emeralds, and Rubies, yet will they at last be changed into the hor­rours or a sad Tempest, and ever waited on by igno­my and confusion.

O that I should thus spend the latter part of my age after smokes and phantastick shadows, which will at last pay me with nothing but grief! shall I flatter my [Page 99]self with the specious hopes of the world, which like Dreams of a delicious Fountain, never quench the Thirst? Ah, much rather, let me make an Eternal di­vorce from all those frivolous worldly hopes! and look on Jesus, as the Pole-star, alwaies unmovable; let me put my self between the arms of hope, and (amidst all disturbances of mind) pass the veil, and enter the Tabernacle of the Sanctuary, whereinto he hath en­tered for our salvation.

Behold how the Soul is troubled, as if, through some melancholly fit, she were fallen into an Abyss, from which issue forth such an infinite quantity of evil va­pours, as cause night in the most cheerfull brightness, and make the most pleasing Beauties to be beheld with affrightment. The greatest punishment which can befall a sad and dolorous Soul in this world, con­sisting in being suspended from the presence and sight of God. And as it naturally desireth to rejoyn it selfe unto God, and the least hinderance it feels, is most irksome unto it, so how doth it mourn to be deprived of so infinite a comfort [which it alone depends on] and to see it self bereaved of so great a happiness (even by its own fault) which is the Needle of the Dial, which sheweth, how our Souls circumvolve times, and the hours of the day.

And well may she complain of the great distance between her, and so infinite a bounty, seeing the holy Scripture (speaking of Love, Gen. 34.3.) saies, It causeth one soul to claspe into another. And truly, did we but once begin to dislike the world, and hear­tily to love Jesus Christ, we should almost every mo­ment think upon him; all the most pleasing Objects [Page 100]of the world would seem mixed with Gall and Worm­wood. We should seek for our Saviour in all Crea­tures; we should languish after him. All that beareth his Name, and memory, will be delightful to him. We shall speak of him in all companies, desire to have him honoured, esteemed, and acknowledged by all the world; our solitude would be in Jesus, our discourse of Jesus; Jesus will be in our watchings, and in our sleep, in our affairs and Recreations. And Oh! how unwilling will be to lose sight of him, though but for a little time.

Did we but once wipe those eyes, surcharged with earthly Beauties, and covered with a thick cloud of the worlds vanities, how soon should we fix them upon the infinite love, mercy, and goodness of God? How cheerfully vvould our Souls be carried with full flight into the bosome of our Saviour, and be there held in a sweet Circle of ravishing contemplations? our hearts would be as flaming Lamps, which perpe­tually burn before the Sanctuary of the living God; we should have but one main desire in the vvorld, which is God himself; all creatures vvhich use to be the Objects of our contentments, will never more be the subject of our fears.

Neither should we (like silly worms) turn against God, when he permitteth any thing to happen, con­trary to our liking, we would frame unto our selves, a life simple and free from all affectations; we vvould learn to endure any slight oppositions vvith great tranquility; vve vvould cast avvay our vvantonness, our pleasures, and petty peevishness, neither vvould vve here think our selves immortal, seeing that every [Page 101]moment, vvhich is novv in our hands, vve must divide vvith death, and the Sun (vvhich to day you have seen to rise out of his couch) may before his setting see you in your Tomb.

Oh horrour then! to see men enraged with that avarice, which sticks to their bones, as doth their Mar­row, and shall sleep with them in their Grave? to see them pride themselves in their Garments, which are the food of Mothes! to see them glittering with pre­cious Stones, which are the excrements of the Sea, and Land; to see them carrried in Coaches, and on Horses, which are the Notes of their poverty, or to see them glory in Titles, which are but imaginary Felicities.

Deceitful Beauties of the world then, where are ye? Ah, true Turrets of Fairies, which are onely in conceit! where shall your allurements prevail from henceforth? to what calamity do you reserve a wretch­ed life, deprived of strength, and vigour to resist you? and if it have any feeling, it is onely of misery? How few, alas! are your selicities in this world? where your best lights have its shadows, all fruit its vvorm, and every Beauty fails not to have its embrace­ments.

And vvhere are ye also, ye admirers of the fortunes of Glass, that happen to the vvicked? where are these adorers of the Colossu's, and heaps of dirt, that ap­pear by the help of false gildings, and vvhich are immediately reduced to dust? Hovv much better had ye been, to have contemplated in that great School of Nature, vvhere God speaketh to us, and teacheth us lessons through the veil of his Creatures? how hap­pie [Page 102]had ye been, had ye looked upon these delights below, as men blind, whereby ye would the better have looked up to heaven, and into your selves? that ye had heard of the worlds vanities, as being deaf, and no waies ravisht by them? as discoursing of them, and yet no way concerned? Thus should he have been as men in part translated to Heaven, and here become earthly Angels.

For, Oh! how little doth the pomp of the world seem to that Soul, who every day drowns part of his life in Tears, and through long solitude hath purged it selfe from the impurities of the Earth! Oh, how contemptible do all those Beauties of dust and for­tunes of wind, seem to that heart, which having every day dilated it self in the greatnesses of God, renders himself capable with the visits, and commerce with Heaven.

It is time to close the Earth, when God opens Heaven, and to carry our heart where he is, since all our Riches are in him. What, alas! have we to do (like Moles) to dig the Earth, and therein to hide our Treasure? surely, he deserves to be everlasting poor, who cannot be content with a God, so rich as he is. Canst thou love a little shining Earth? Canst thou love a walking piece of Clay, before that God, that Christ, that Glory which is unmeasurably lovely? Canst thou love the World, thy Friends, thy Kindred, whose love cannot advantage thee, whose weeping cannot ease thee in the time of thy trouble; and canst thou not love thy Saviour, vvhose Tears and Blood have a healing virtue, and are like Balsome, and waters of life to thy fainting heart.

[Page 103]Oh my Soul! what incomprehensible love is here; If love deserve, and should procure love, oughtest thou not here to poure out all the store of thy affecti­ons? shall he not be first served? shall he not have the strength of thy love, who parted vvith strength and life in love to thee? Oh that thy love were more! Oh that thy affections were a thousand times grea­ter.

Alas! vvhat vvantest thou to provoke thy love? is not here a Sea of love before thee? little dost thou know (ah little indeed!) the glory and blessedness of this love, little dost thou know the excellency of this Love. Is there any thing here below but base­ness, in espect of thy enjoyments above? are the hea­vy sufferings, the unsatisfying vanities of this world, really sutable to thy desires? or canst thou find any place more sutable to thy misery, then that of mercy, or of nearer interest or Relation then that of Hea­ven?

Come away then, O my Soul! stop thine ears to the ignorant language of the world; what is the Beau­ty, the Riches, the Honours, thou hast so much ad­mired? Canst thou but even close thine eyes, and thou wilt think it all darkness and deformity? What is the beauty thou hast so much admired? alas! when the night comes, it will be nothing to thee! whilst thou hast gazed on it, it hath withered away; do [...]h not the wrinkles of consuming sickness, or of age, or some other deformity make it as loathsome, as it was once delightful.

Ah then O miserable man that thou art! unworthy Soul! how canst thou love a skinful of dirt, and canst [Page 104]no more love the heavenly Glory? art thou not a Soul? is not heaven the onely lovely Object? art thou not a Spirit, and is not Earth a Dungeon to Celestial Glory? shall Gold, or Greatness, or worldly Pomp, be thy Idols, vvhich are all dirt and dung to Christ? come forth then O my dull and drowsie Soul, thou hast lain long enough in these earthly Cells, where cares have been thy Fetters, where sorrows have been thy lodgings, and Satan thy Jaylor.

The Soul calling to mind the infinite Love of her Savi­our, bewailes her ungratefulness, and the coldness of her returns.

WHen holy David considered the vvorks of Gods hands, the Sun, and the Moou which he had made, Psal. 8.3, 4. he immediately breaks forth into thoughts of humility, touching the frail and sad estate of man. But blessed Lord! what can we say, for our great neglect of that Love which hath stretch­ed it self for us, even to the death of the Cross; and what stupidity is it to forget that, that bloody Banquet, which was to us the source of life, should bring with it the Edict of death.

O poor Sinner! What hast thou done, look upon a Deed, that vvas worthy of none but thy cruelty, stretch out thy hands, put thy fingers into those wounds vvhich thou hast made, bedew thy hands [like unbelieving Thomas] in that sacred stream vvhich flowed from thy Saviours side! Drink (miserable vvretch!) of that River, vvhich there thou seest glide, to quench thy thirst; Look, and behold those [Page 105]dead eyes, which accuse thy nakedness, and which thou still dost wound with the aspect of thy wicked­ness; alas! they are not shut so much, by the neces­sity of death, as by the horrour of thy Luxury.

Behold the great temper of thy Saviours Soul, in his most horrible sufferings! what could be invented, which he endured not? what could be undergon, which he met not vvith? Oh, high effect of an infinite Love! vvhich found no belief in senses, no perswasion in minds, no example in manners, nor resemblance in nature.

It is storied of a Prince, vvho being desirous to of­fer himself to death for the preservation of his Sub­jects, took the habite of a Clown, the better to faci­litate his death; he laid down his Crown, and Purple, and all the Ensigns of Royalty (onely retaining those of Love) and lost his life in his Enemies hands. But alas! this was but a mortal life! and in giving it, he onely paid that tribute to Nature, which at last he must of necessity yield. But where have we read, that a man glorious by Birth, and immortal by con­dition, hath espoused that humility, which all the world despiseth, that mortality which all must par­take of, that mercy which none can equalize, and for no other occasion then to dye for his friend?

O dear Jesus! thou wert by nature immortal, and impregnable against all exterior violences! thou took'st not the Body of a Peasant, nor a body of Air, but a true body of Flesh, personally united to the word of God. Thou, O blessed Saviour! consumedst thy body with Travails; thou quailedst it with toils; thou castedst tottered Rags over thy Purple [...], thou [Page 106]laid'st our miseries upon thy own shoulders, and at last, resignedst thy selfe as a Prey, to a most dolorous death.

My God! What a Prodigie is this? Thou found­est a way to accord infirmity with Soveraignty; Ho­nour with Ignomy, Life with Death, and Time with Eternity! O God of Glory! O mild Saviour! all this hast thou done; it was not possible that sole God should suffer death, nor sole Man should vanquish it; but God, and Man hath overcome it. Ought not then thy pains, to be as much adored by our wills, as they are incomprehensible to our understandings?

And alas! how much ought we to be ashamed, since instead of enkindling our Affections, with the sacred fires of thy Eternal Love, we have sought after prophane fire, from the eyes of earthly Beautie, and have opened our hearts to Forreign flames? Ah, ungrateful Soul! art thou not afraid to hear those heart-piercing words, Cant. 5.6. I opened to my beloved, but my beloved had withdrawn himself, and was gone; my soul failed when I spake, I sought him, but I could not find him. Shall the love of God be so communicative, as to stream forth by those two conduit-pipes [of Glory, and Beauty] and art thou not hereupon, even confounded, to see thy heart so narrow, and streight­ned in the exercise of holiness, and good works?

Oh blessed Saviour! thou didst spend thy time in continual pain and labours here on Earth, for the re­demption of the world; Many were the scorns, re­proaches, and miseries thou endurest for us. Thou didst even melt and dissolve under the ardors of un­speakable affection and zeal, for our salvation; and [Page 107]at last exposedst thy self to languors, sorrows, exta­sies, and the cruel punishment of the Cross; and shall ingratitude be all the return thou reapest for such infi­nite mercy?

How justly maist thou many many times question with me, as thou did once with S. Peter, Joh. 21.17. Lovest thon me? Thou seemest indeed (poor soul) to love me; But why then dost thou not keepe my Com­mandements? Doth not fond love [which ordinarily delights to see what it cannot attain] find too much admiration for thy eyes, and food for its flame! Ah, that ever thou shouldst spend so many hours, endure so much pain, and run so many hazards, to seek after an unhappy loathsomness! Oh that ever thou shouldst take away thy love from me, to place it on Creatures which so little deserve it!

And why should the faculties of the eye, which was ordained for light, be thus applyed to darkness? Shall that which was Created for the use of Life, be the cause of Death? Alas! what canst thou gain, by im­bracing thy Lusts? O poor deceived Soul! what Snares, what Traps, what Tempests beset thee on all sides? O Man [miserable wretch!] drenched in the waters of bitter Tears! where, alas, wilt thou save thy self, if thou put not thy selfe under the shelter of thy Saviours Cross? If thou lose him, thou hast no­thing left to comfort thee. In him thou hast all things; If thou art Hungry, thou needest but to taste of his love; if Thirsty, the light of his countenance is farre better then the Corn and Wine of this world.

We read of many accomplished Beauties in former ages, which have drawn the affections of those that [Page 108]beheld them; but what are those, but fading shadows to the love of Jesus, which winneth whole Nations, and Monarchies to it? From hence it is, that so ma­ny Kings, Queens, and great Personages, have forsaken the Pomp and Beauty of the World, and followed him through Thornes and Rocks, that so many millions of the wisest, and most purified Souls upon Earth, have abandoned themselves, and loved him, even to the suffering of Flames, and Wheeles, yea, the dismembring of their whole Body.

Oh that our hearts could then dissolve for him! Oh that they could dayly melt in his service, without con­suming, since there is nothing which equalizeth the excellency of this Celestial Love! But wretched Crea­tures as we are! can we chuse but grievc, to see them torn and divided by so many vile and base Objects, which divert our Affections, and hinder us from gi­ving them to God, for which they were made? Oh, how much should we blush, thus to contaminate our hearts with the wickedness and impurities of the Earth!

The heart of Man should be as a fortunate Island, wherein there is nothing but God and it: Or like the Nest of that little Bird, which cannot hold one silly Fly more then it self. But alas! what Creatures are there there lodged, to the prejudice of our Creator? O poor Soul! really miserable! do but once open thine eyes, and thou shalt soon see the head-long ruine which threatneth thee!

Carnal Souls have much ado to conceive how a man may become passionate in the love of God; it is a love too high (say they) to transfer our Affections into Heaven: we know no affection but for tempo­ral [Page 109]and visible things. O blinded Spirits, ignorant of the glorious Mysteries of Heaven; How do ye thus argue with your selves? O sad Souls! is Heaven a Country wherein they have no commerce? Doth God speak to thee in all his Creatures; nay, doth he seek for thee, dost thou behold him through the veil of Nature, in somany various Objects? Dost thou daily see him in the Image of his Bounty and Great­ness of his power, and the splendor of his Beauty, and in the lively Characters of his Majesty? and wilt thou be so much charmed with the present pleasures, and delighted so with the Workmanship, as to forget the Workman? Wilt thou embrace the shadow for the body and momentary Beauties for Eternal verities?

Oh! but thou objectest, that he is a secret, so hid­den, and invisible to men, that our poor spirits, finde more confusion, then light in seeking him: I answer, hold thy peace (O thou ignorant and mis-judging Soul!) God shews himself in as many mirrours as there are Creatures in the world. All that we see, hear, touch, or handle, cease not to recount unto us the love of our Maker. Do we not find the daily ex­perience of his love, in every minutes preservation? Do we not hear the sweetness of his voice and har­monies, in the chirping of every little Bird, and Nightingale? yea, the least silly Fly holds forth a tone, which all the art of the world cannot frame.

If we behold the murmuring of those silver streams, which so sweetly charme and delight our senses; if we cast an eye upon those various party-coloured Flowers, with what an exquisite delicacie shall we find them adorn'd, insomuch that [as we have it from [Page 110]the sacred lips of Eternal Wisdom] Solomon in all his Royalty was not like one of these.

But when we cast our eyes towards Heaven, when we behold the Sun, the Moon, and those silver spar­cles which shew themselves as soon as the Night spreads its Mantle over the inferior Regions of the World. Ah! how may we (with the Princely Pro­phet) cry out; The Heavens declare the Glory of God, and the Firmament sheweth his handy-work.

Expose not then the loss of thy innocency, and sanctity [O poor Soul!] to the alluring occasions of this tempting world, and thou needest not fear, but in him to find salve forall thy wounds. It may be thou fearest Poverty; alas! hath not thy Saviour conse­crated it in the Crib, and in Clouts? Dost thou fear Reproaches? he hath sanctified them in the loss of his Reputation. Dost thou fear dolours? he hath lodged them in his own flesh. Dost thou fear Death? he hath overcome it for thee: only, let thy heart be devested from the ardent affections thou hast towards worldly enablements, beholding them as an incon­stant moving of shadowes, and Spirits, which with a swift course glide before our eyes. And lastly, let us look towards the eye of God, which perpetually be­holdeth us. Let us behold it as our Pole-star, and fla­ming Pillar; whereby, at last, we shall learn to re­pose our selves in his bosome, slumber upon his heart, and sleep eternally between his Arms.

The Soul breaks into Sighes, and dissolves into desires for the presence of God.

THe Soul of Man, being made to the Image of God, and for the possession and fruition of God, will never rest, but in the conformity of its under­standing, and will, to its Creator. It casts its eyes (indeed) oftentimes on the Sea, the Earth, with so many Rivers, which moisten it, so many Trees, which cover it, so many living Creatures which furnish it, so many men which inhabite and dress it, but yet rests not there.

It figures also the Air in its thoughts, with all its Birds, so different in shape, so various in colour, so diversified in their Notes, but (alas!) like Noahs Dove, she finds no rest for her footing. It glanceth up further to those Christaline and azure Vaults, where the Sun, the Moon, and so many silver Stars perform their career with such measure, as God hath deter­mined, yet finds not God in any of them. It con­templates those innumerable Legions of Angels, Spirits of Fire, and light which resplendently shine as Lamps before the face of God; yet ever cryes out, it is not be, God onely being he who comprehend­eth all things, and not onely bounds them, but in­comparably surpasseth them.

What do I here then (O Jesus!) without thee, but sail without Stars, and labour without the Sun? Alas! if I can do nothing here without thee, if with­out the Sun-shine of thy presence, I am but an unpro­fitable servant, and burden to the Earth, what do I here? All that satisfieth the desires of the curious, [Page 112]all that which inviteth the admiration of the wisest, all that which enflameth the hearts of the most pas­sionate; yea, Land and Sea, Thrones and Scepters, Arms and Empires (are but as a silly drop of dew be­fore thy face.

And wilt thou yet (O disloyal Soul!) entertain in thy heart a mass of worldly desires? Wilt thou ra­ther live among Fevers, and burning Coals, then tie thy selfe to the will of God? wretched Rebel! wilt thou prostitute thy selfe, and have affection in store for a deceiving Creature! O ungrateful and faithless Soul? the same Paradice that God hath prepared for him self, he hath prepared for thee; he will, that thou possess thy self in him; and wilt thou take liberty to fly after all Objects, as Bees after Flowers? wilt thou flutter up and down like a silly Butter-fly, amongst so many Creatures, so many desires, perpetually hun­gry, ever distant from thy good, ever a Traytor to thy own repose and glory; wilt thou adventure on a Sea that hath neither bottom nor shore? Beggerly Soul! which beggest every where! miserable Soul, which in every place findest want in abundance! when wilt thou rally all thy desires into one Period? when wilt thou begin to live the life of God? to be satisfied with Gods contentment, and to be happy with Gods felicity?

But alas! methinks I hear thee say, of thy self thou art able to do nothing! stretch out thy arms then unto me, O mild Saviour! a poor Exile I am I con­fess, yet redeemed by thy Blood. Cast an eye on me from heaven, in these storms of life. O lead me to that pl [...]ce where thou for ever reignest! where youth wax­eth [Page 113]not old, where life hath no limits, where Beau­ty decayes not, where health doth not empair, nor love abate.

If I cannot reach Heaven, by my own strength, let me go thither by thy love, which is the true gate whereby we enter into the Sanctuary, eternally to enjoy the sight of the inaccessible Beauty of the di­vine Presence. O God, as thou art dispersed through­out us by love, so banish all the cursed hatreds of hell, and the world, and make us love all in thy good­ness, to possess all in thy fruition.

Never suffer me, O Lord! to fill all the sails of my desires with the windy vanities of this world, which are more light then Smoak, more slippery then Ice; whose promises are Perjuries, and whose perjuries are forsakings. Ah, never let us run at random after the transitory honours of the Earth, which glister like a worm in rotten wood; which prick like Thorns, and withdraw our affections from thee, who Crownest the Heads of thy Elect with Eternal Garlands. Oh let me not live daily in the fits of Fire, and Ice, for the slight toyes and fading beauty of the world, and for such things, as for shame we dare not oftentimes ex­press, and have neither heart nor thought for thee.

I see all things which environ me [those Riches, those Pomps, those Honours] are but flitting com­pany, deceitful and momentary things, and serve for nothing but Snares and Prisons. Oh then let me look on all the Objects of pleasure, not as they are, when they first sooth me, but when they turn their backs and forsake me. All pleasures of sense pass but to the outward skin; and all the Flowers of the Garden [Page 114]of this world are without fruition, pleasing onely to the Imagination, and no way satisfying the desires of a gracious Soul.

Enter then into thy heart, O my Soul! and lay thy hand upon thy thoughts, and thou shalt find, that all thy unhappinesse commeth, from being too much tyed to Honours, Ambitions, and worldly Commo­dities. It was the saying of one, defining the life [which he called the Pilgrimage of a perfect Christi­an] that true and perfect Religion is, in a generall de­spair of all things. And truly, the Remedy of all e­vils, will never be but in a holy despair of all the fri­volous and fair semblances of the world. O happy despair indeed! to put all our hope in God alone, to remove those deceitful and treacherous Props, which besiege our credulous minds, and cease not to enter into our hearts, and hinder us from bidding adieu to all the charming Promises, and allurements of a bar­ren and lying world, and from turning our eyes to­wards the heavenly Jerusalem, our true Country.

Ah! how sweet are the expressions between the Bridegroom and the Bride, where she saith, My Be­loved is mine, and I am his, Cant. 2.16. And again, I am my wel-beloveds, and my wel-beloved is mine, Cant. 6.3. She first returns her soul and love to him, and then confirms his to her self. And when Love [like that of Jonathan to David] hath thus united their Souls, all the affections and actions of the Soul, to will, to do, to say the same thing, will speedily follow.

Surely, the Spouse was at little rest, while absent from her Beloved. When (saith she) will the day of [Page 115]Redemption appear? Where, O where, art thou whom my Soul loveth, Cant. 1.7. By night I sought him whom my soul loveth; I will rise, and go about the Ci­ty, and in the streets, and in the broad wayes will I seek him whom my Soul loveth, Cant. 3.1.2. and when she seeks and finds him not, O how doth she bemoan self to the Watchmen; and having found him, she holds him fast, and will not let him go, ever crying out; O how shall I adhere unto him? how shall I incorporate my self with him? how shall I melt into praisings, and love-breathing Ditties? how shall I get into that Fountain of Goodness? Oh come, Oh come, that happy day! come even now! I fear nei­ther Hell, nor Judgement, for I know thou canst bear no wrath against those that love thee! come then, come and draw my Soul from this loathsome body; screw up my Affections, O dear Saviour to thy own self; unloose the Fetters and Bonds of my im­prisoned Soul, which keep me from the sight of my beloved Spouse, and Master; and at last set me at li­berty in the Eternal freedom of thy Palace, and e­verlasting glory of thy presence. O free me from the snares of the world, the wiles of Satan, and the de­ceits of the flesh. O when will that day of Redem­ption come, when I shall drink at the full, those com­forts which are here dispersed, but by small drops!

And thrice happy is he, who hath here raised his gain from his losses; his assurance from this worlds in­certainties, his strength out of his infirmities, his hopes out of his despairs, and is not contented but in God, who can onely satisfie his desires, and Crown him with Felicities! Happy, I say, is he, who beholds [Page 116]all wordly things, as Roses, which still with their o­dour, cast forth some of their substance, who look on them afar off, and in the dark, as painted Women, and adulterate Merchandice; who behold them as Torches, which wast and annihilate themselves, lea­ving nothing behind for the most part, but stench and smoak.

The world (I confess) thinks it no easie matter to trust Christ upon his word, though he have told us, Mat. 11.30. His yoak is easie, and his burden light. What (say some) is it so easie to renounce all that a man hath [Wealth, Liberty, Life and all] are these so light? yes, poor Soul! Truth it self hath spo­ken it, and most true it is, that love makes them both light and easie.

What though thou here seem to weep for a time, thou shalt but onely resemble the Flower-de-luce, which weeps a little, and out of its own Tears, pro­duceth seeds to renew its Beauty. The salt Sea of this world shall become a flourishing field, as it did to the people of God, when they came out of the chains of Egypt.

Wee are here in this World, like little Infants, without Air, or Light, besmeared with blood, and swadled in Clouts, which Nature onely gave thee for a time, to fit thee the better for that life, where thou shalt for ever breath in all freedom and liberty. We are yet in Prison, Fetters, and Obscurity, until the coming of the great day, wherein God shall give us a Spiritual body. All the pomp of this World, all our life, yea all that pleaseth here, and taketh up our heart, is but the shadow of that Glorious Beauty, [Page 117]and contentment which passeth in Eternity.

Let me then (O my God!) continually exercise my self in the desires of joyes Eternal! let me san­ctifie all other Loves to the love of Jesus Christ; let me forsake all humane things, O my God! and be­take my self wholly to the consideration of his excel­lency. When I speak, let it be of Heaven, as of my resting place, and of thee as of the Object of my Felicity.

Ah! what can be more divine, then to see a Soul thus capable of the influences of Heaven? whom the Sithe of Time cannot affright; whom the Threats of the world, nor the wheel of Inconstancy, neither the power of Death can dismay. O House of God! O Temple of Peace! when will the time come which will devest us of all that is mortal, which will sweeten the bitterness of our life, replenish our hearts with spiritual refreshment, and at last put us into the bo­som of Immortality?

The Soul filled with Heavenly Love, sends forth the pure flames of her Affection.

GOd, who loves the importunities of his servants, often hides his face the longer, to the end his Grace may with the more brightness afterwards ap­pear. We find in Nature, that the Sun is never more resplendent, then after an Eclipse; the Sea never more calm, then after a Tempest, nor the Air brigh­ter, then after a shower. Neither is it ever too late to knock, and cry at the Gate of Heaven.

The fainting Beggar, which neglects the re-infor­cing [Page 118]of his complaint, often goes away without his reward. The weary and lingering Christian, seldom attains the end of his journey, where he shall live for ever in the Palace of Peace and contentment; where our happiness shall be perpetual, and our ful­ness never occasion loathing to him that possesseth it.

Neither doth God do us any injury, if (after long waiting here) instead of a Crown, which is the Wea­ther-cock of winds, of a Scepter, which is the Reed of the times, or of a Life which is the Harbenger of Death, he affords us delights, and glories which out­strip the flight of Thoughts, which drie up all our Tears, and surmount all our Imaginations.

It was once told a great Prince (being in his In­fancy bred up in the House of a Peasant, whose Son he took himself to be) that he should no longer fol­low so mean an employment of life; that his Hat should be turned into a Diadem, his Spade into a Scepter, his Raggs into Robes of Gold, his Cottage into a Pallace, and his servitude into an Empire. Oh, can we think how he was ravished with the love of a Father, by whom he was born to so much Treasure, and Greatness! And shall we not have the like ap­probation, when our Saviour tells us, we are not created to live among Mire, and Dirt, to be tyed to a wretched frail and miserable Body, to walk among Bryars and Thornes, and embroyl our selves in the toyls and cares of a mortal life?

Bring me then, O dear Jesus! in thine own time, into those celestial Palaces, of incomprehensible lights, and unspeakable Beauties? Enlighten me (O [Page 119]thou Son of Righteousness!) to discover those glo­rious excellencies (all white with Innocency, and re­splendent with the Rayes of Glory) from the Syrens of the world which so much abuse us with deceits, va­nitie, and infamies. I acknowledge (thus far) the in­finite mercy of thy divine Providence, that while I was in darkness, and under the black Cloud of thy heavy displeasure, thou sanctifiest my Fetters, and hast now raised up my Ashes above the Crowns of the World.

Thou mightest (indeed) have made me ambitious, delicate, haughty, covetous, and adorned with world­ly Treasures, to have walked on Roses, to have pu­trifed in delights; yea, made my happiness seeming­ly to have out-run my desires. Such there are (I con­fess) who have defiled their names with reproach, wearied the Earth with their vices, astonished Poste­rity with their deportments, and peopled Hell with their crimes. But, O mercy! that thou makest me to see light in the most dusky Nights, and a Haven of comfort in the most forlorn shipwracks:

O most Mighty, O most Soveraign Lord of all things, visible and invisible! were I with thee, in the shades of death, what should I fear, being between the arms of Life; O great eye, who seest all, and art not seen of any here below! Thou art truly worthy (if we with mortal lips may call thee worthy) yea worthy, to whom all the world should give continual thanks, for thy inexplicable Benefits. Worthy, before whom we on our bended knees, should all our life-time re­main prostrate; Worthy, that for thee, we should have Prayers, and prayers everlastingly on our lips. O [Page 120]Monsters of impudency, if yet we see not thy good­ness, and persist insensibly of thy mercy!

With these considerations, if the Soul now wholly ravished; she walks on Earth, as a man suspended in Heaven, drenched in God, and fill'd with the joyes of his Spirit. Her eyes are listed up towards Heaven, though streaming down tears for sinne upon Earth. Her hands are still lifted up thither by prayer. Her heart (formerly contracted with sadness for crimes, committed against so good a God) now melts with joy unspeakable. Neither earing, nor drinking, nor sleeping, is able to dissolve the sweet conversation she hath with God.

Now is it, that the Soul begins to lead a life whol­ly Celestial, as one, who seems to have nothing to do with the Bodies and conversations of the living. Now is it, that after so many Tempests, so many Thunder­claps and Whiriwinds of grief and sadness, she arrives at a Port, not of temporal felicity, but of the un­speakable joyes of Heaven.

Ah ignorant that we are, of the works of God! perpetually fixed to the Earth, and deprived of those sparkles of heavenly fire, and light! Let us but a lit­tle draw aside the Curtain, and we shall see through so many Clouds, the glorious Rayes of lasting happi­ness. There may you behold the Effigies of a graci­ous Soul, with a Crown on its Head, and Scepter in its Hand, with prosperity continually smiling; with loves free from disturbance; with desires void of deni­als; with affairs without trouble, Greatness without change, Pleasures without sorrow; and at last, fully laden with celestial Honours.

[Page 121]This surpassing Joy, having one time so far trans­ported a heavenly lover, as to give occasion to some, who beheld him, to think him besides himself; you are in the right (said he) my Beloved hath taken a­way my will, and I have given him my understanding, there is nothing left me but memory to remember his mercy.

Oh what a great Abyss of Delights are reserved for those purified Souls, who are thus wholly rapt in the contemplation of heavenly Beauties, and altogether ravished in the consideration of Gods divine Good­ness! No longer do they suffer themselves to be transported with earthly prosperities, but (in the midst of all worldly Pomps) their eyes are firmly fixed upon the many benefits received from God; their Ears being charmed, their Tears wiped, their Fetters broken. And what way do they more seek out, then how to testifie their gratitude, and poure themselves as incense upon Coals, towards the Al­tar of divine Majesty.

Yea, there is a love so tender in them, and a fear of offending so infinite a Saviour, as that, they appre­hend the least shadows of sinne, as Death. Day and Night do they send forth Centinels before the Altars, who cease not to implore the assistance of Heaven, for the salvation of their Souls.

How often, in the deep silence of darkness [when no eye sees, nor ear hears] do they cause their weep­ing eyes to speak to God, and address their many vowes to Heaven, for the attaining of Eternal life? How willingly do they part, with all the Interests of Flesh and Blood, and all other impediments about [Page 122]them? They think they can never do too much for eternal happiness; whatsoever are their sufferings here, the know Paradice will still be purchased at a good penny-worth.

Oh true zeal! O most powerful Alchymie! chan­ging all Tears and Troubles into Marble and Gold. What Wisdome, what Grace, what Eloquence, doth a heart [truly endowed therewith] use towards the attaining of Heaven? What love for its Soul? what fervour for its salvation? what care for its direction? what resignation of its will to the mind of God? What a heart of Diamond doth it express against a thousand stroaks of dolours, and sufferings? how joy­fully doth it meet death? yea, what Triumphs after­wards, in all conditions, and after all its afflictions, offering up unto God the obedience of the heart, the Prayers of the lips, and all the faculties of Soul and Body, which appear in a general conformity to the commands of God.

And what (indeed) can that Soul fear (nay, what can he not hope for) who hath a Jesus for a Protector, and a God absolutely powerful, and whose power and essence walk hand in hand, which is without limits, embraceth all places, and no way confin'd to any cer­tain number of Ages, since it is Eternal, and invol­veth all time? What can he doubt of, who can con­clude an Interest in him, who made the world, with the least blast of his mouth, and can as easily [the same way] unmake it? all the great variety of this U­niverse, where there are Creatures without number, Beauties without end, and Greatnesses innumerable. being but an effect of his word.

[Page 123]O how brave a thing do we account it, for a Prince to possess an earthly Kingdom in the hearts of men! to make himself a Throne of Peace, to which love raiseth an Eternal Basis, and on which God raineth infinite Blessings; Whereas what a hideous spectacle is it, to see Tyrants hidden (like Owls) in perpetu­al Nights, with a mind possest, and beset with horrid Fancies, filled with suspitions, and seised by distrust; whose Dreams are full of bloody spectacles, for whom Thunder seems to roar, and for whom Heaven pre­pares all its Thunderbolts.

Oh, what horror is it to see them not dare to ap­pear in publick, without being clothed with Iron, and dispoiled of the peoples affections; to appear a­mong their Subjects in nothing but Blood, Terrors, Torments, and Massacres; and afterwards, to be ha­ted like Plagues, and poysons! Is not this the way to make a Hell of his life, a Tyranny of his manners, and to increase vowes towards his death?

Just so, is the difference between a poor Soul, vvho daily marcheth under the standard of Gods provi­dence, and is every hour replenished with the mer­cies and benefits of Heaven. Like a virtuous King, the one adventures to live in the most unfrequented Wildernesses, without Corps-du-gard. He finds assu­rance in Battels, prosperity in his House, veneration abroad, admiration at home. When he sleeps, his Sa­viour [who is more watchful then a million of eyes] wakes for him, when he prayes that voice [which is better then a million of mouthes] makes intercession for him. His joyes are pure, his pleasures innocent, his repose dreadless, his eating and drinking without [Page 124]fear of poyson, his Life happy, and his Memory blessed.

Whereas divine Providence (which sharpens the Sword of Justice in the Tears of the miserable, pours it on the head of the other, consumes him by strange Maladies; a thousand hands are ready to pu­nish him; his life is a reproach, his memory full of cursings, dung-hills are provided to interre him; yea, the Stones or Mettals afterwards punished and de­faced, for no other crime, but to mention his Acti­ons, and set forth his feature.

The Soul contemplates, and sets forth her Folly in ha­zarding Eternal Joyes, by preferring Earthly Va­nities.

AReprobate sense, being the last step which any one makes to enter into Hell; O how great is the happiness of an enlightned Soul, which sets all the glory of the world at its feet, and preferres the knowledge of Christ, and an obedience to his will and command beyond any thing here below which shall come in competition with it.

Often doth she thus expostulate with her self; what alas? shall the sight of Temporal Beauty, which too often fills our Soul, with nothing but fire and flames, abate the more fervent love of Eternal things? Is it possible that I, should so adore my prison, and fetters here, as to ballance them with the Cross of my Sa­viour Jesus? who alas! can give me Tears sufficient, having thus forsaken my God!

Origen mentions of Mary Magdalen, That Hea­ven [Page 125]and the Angels were a burden to her, and that she could live no longer then she beheld him that made them; and shall we here preferre an Earthly Pilgri­mage, before a Heavenly Paradice? Is it possible that I should suffer my self to be entangled with worldly vanities, which are more brittle then Glass, more light then smoak, and more swift then the wind? that I should fatten my self in earthly Pleasures; that I should nourish this Carrion, this Dunghill of my Bo­dy, and neglect, and forget, and despise my Soul? Oh! what horrid Phantasms will seem to reproach me with ingratitude, when the affairs of my conscience shall be set in order, and say unto me; I am the Pleasure thou hast obeyed; I am the Ambition to which thou wert a slave; I am the Covetousness, which was the aim of all thy Actions. Behold thy sinnes, thus be­gotten by thee; Behold thy iniquities, which thou didst love so much, as to preferre before thy Saviour. Alas! alas! what Comfort, what Happiness, hast thou now in all these?

Thus the unhappy Soul (thinking her self undone) cuts off her words, and deeply sighing, with sobs of true Repentance, and a lively penetrating grief, (wish­eth her self any thing rather then a Reasonable Crea­ture. And how glad would a miserable sinner be, if he might turn to nothing, and cease to be. But, alas, how doth he find himself lost, and involved in misery; yea, perpetually gnawn, and torn, with a torrent of inexplicable dolours, which cause him to break out in­to unheard of Phrensies.

O Pallace of God (saith he) that I have lost! O ugly Den of Serpents, whereinto I am thrown! O hi­deous [Page 126]darkness, which shall for ever be my inheri­tance! O infernal countenances, of enraged Devils, who must for ever be my Companions! The bright­ness of Paradice will now be nothing unto me; the joyes of Heaven will now but aggravate my grief; what alas then shall I do? whether shall I turn my self?

Go then, ye Worldlings, go! let Love fool ye, Am­bition rack you, Covetousness rust ye, Lust inflame ye, Hope tickle ye, Pleasure melt ye; Let Anger burn, Envy gnaw, and Jealousie prick ye, Revenge exasperate, Cruelty harden, Fear sreez, and sorrow consume ye. Yet know, that one day ye will wish to have devested your selves of all your worldly affecti­ons, and that ye had loved nothing, but for God, of God, and to God.

See, see, fond man of Earth! who art glutted with delights, and (with the Richman in the Gospel) signest Requiems to thy Soul, Luk. 12.11. As having Goods laid up for many years. See, I say, at the doors of these Syrens [or rather, the Sepulchers of thy lusts] the smoak and stench of these dainties, which have heightned thy sinnes, ready to smother thee! See, see, those pleasures, which (like Lots wife, over the bur­ning Ruines of Sodom) cry out against thee with an Eternal voice; Traiterous Pleasures! Pleasures, Ene­mies of the Cross of Christ! how alas have ye beguil'd me, how have ye deceived me?

Alas! O voluptuous! O carnal Creature! how short a time will it be, ere those Members which thou wouldest not crucifie, by a holy mortification, on the Cross of Jesus, shall be tormented with those pains [Page 127]of the justice of God! Ah Illusion! ah Witchcraft! why should we live in the excess of those pleasures which we shall one day have more occrsion to curse then cherish? Oh thou ungrateful to God! Traytor to thy own salvation! Go, I say, and place thy self in a better state of happiness; Go thou, and make a Covenant with Hell, and agreement with death. But O remember what will be the event! Alas! poor Soul! that thou shouldest purchase Repentance so dear, to give up the expectation of Eternity, and the fruition of so many glorious years, as a prey to one unhappy minute of pleasure! Where is thy faith which thou hast promised to God? where is thy wea­riness to avoid sinne? Dost thou think that God doth not see thee sinning?

The time is drawing on, when Death shall strip thee to the very skin, and leave thee nothing but what thou hast done, and given for God. How would it then comfort thee, to have conformed thy self to a reli­gious life, and to have made every action thereof a step to Eternity? What greater thoughts of com­fort can possess thy heart, then those, which bring to thy remembrance a lively faith, purity of life, exemp­tion from grievous sins, poverty of Spirit, affection to the word of God, humility, charity to thy Neigh­bour, clemency, and a full resignation of thy whole mind to the will of thy Creator? Alas, how vvill one sole pleasure, taken in heavenly Objects, be a thou­sand times better, and more esteemed then all the de­lights and contentments of the world?

But on the contrary, how sad will it be, when thy conscience [which as Phylo terms it, is the little con­sistory [Page 128]of the soul] shall sit on a Throne, with a Scep­ter in her hand, and say unto thee; wicked Servant! recall thy Thoughts, Words, and Actions; how hast thou mispent the time of thy life? how many dayes hast thou carelesly lost? what sluggishness at thy ri­sing? what negligence in thy employment? how great Words, and how little Works,? Why this rash judgement, that curious question? these wandering eyes? these stragling thoughts? this angry passion? that hasty slander? why this dayes intemperance? that dayes excess? this dayes neglect of thy God? that dayes uncharitableness to thy Neighbour?

Oh how sad will these expressions be at the last day! Cursed Atheism! why wouldst thou rather feel thy torments, then believe them? Cruel Ambition! to vvhat pass hast thou brought me? deceitful Riches! how have ye beguilded me? wicked Company, vain Companions, worldly Pleasures! how have ye been the chains of my Ruine? Alas! how can I write, or how canst thou hear, or read this vvithout trembling, to think on thy forlorn condition? Poor vvretch! vvhat vvill become of thee, vvhen thou shall look a­bove thee, and see the God which hath forsaken thee, the Saints whom thou hast despised, and all the faith­ful at the right hand of Glory? vvhen thou shalt look below, and see those hideous flames which thou must a bide for ever? vvretched Soul vvhat vvouldst thou now give for a Christ, vvhich onely can [but will not] save thee? vvhat vvould thou give for one hours time of repentance? which once thou slep'st under, refusedst, and esteemedst of no value.

Then wilt thou say unto thy self; O God! O God! [Page 129]whom have I lost, yet cannot lose? I have lost thee as my Saviour, yet have thee still present, beholding my pains. O Eternity! shall there never be end of my evils? shall those Torments be alwaies beginning? Ah, why was not the womb of my Mother the Se­pulcher of my birth? Why did not the Stars which then ruled, throw the sparkles of their influences a­gainst me? why did not the Earth swallow me up in my Cradle? must I live one sole minute on earth, to live an Enemy to God eternally? Ah Lord! what a depth is there in thy judgement! let silence smother the remainder of my complaints, since I can no lon­ger endure my self, nor my Tongue make known the conceptions of my heart!

Neither canst thou justly complain (poor Soul, whatsoever thou be!) that God did thee wrong in making such a hell for thee, seeing thy sinne hath neither end, nor limits in its Eternity. It is an infinite evil, becaus it strikes at the head of an infinite Divinity. Wilt thou say to an Omnipotent God, thou createdst me to serve thee, but I will live for my selfe? Thou maidst a World for my use, but I wil fill it with my sins; thou redeemedst me with thy blood, but I will con­temn and trample it under my my feet. O horrible confusion! O unspeakable wickedness!

No way of redress then is there left thee (O poor Soul!) but to live alwaies in a state, wherein thou wouldst die; to fear Hell always that thou maist not fear it ar all; to frame a tender and timerous con­science to thy self, and to call thy self often to ac­count in this manner. Ah poor Soul! if thou wert now at this instant to dislodge out of this world; art [Page 130]thou in an estate to be presented before the Throne of the supream Judge? hast thou not some sinnes un­repented of, some restitution to make? do there not some vain thoughts and worldly lusts lodge and re­main within thy heart?

Say further to thy self; alas! what is a little time when it is gone? how quickly shall I be in another world? how speedily will our years pass? how will our minutes of pleasure be then repaid with everla­sting sufferings? what have I then to do, but to pro­vide for heaven? And let me think that time lost, wherein Nothing is done to that end. And seeing all the pleasure of sinne here in this world, is but to con­verse with Swine, and feed on Husks. O that we had but a right apprehension of the fulness and pollution thereof, and how momentary and uncertain that de­light is vvhich vve reap by it.

The Soul (being ready to sink under the weight and apprehension of her Sins) bemoanes the weakness of her Faith, and desires help from her Saviour.

THough Prosperity, and the Beauty of the world, doth not easily corrupt Souls, which have once taken upon them to live in the fear of God; yet not­withstanding they oftentimes vvould, and in some sort change them, every sin being a tripping off of the Souls heels.

The poor labouring and industrious Bee, sometimes goes so long upon her hony, as that by much walking she there entangles her feet. So a Soul [yea one of those who are most devout] being continually sooth­ed [Page 131]by a long sequel of pleasing successes, and the delights of the world, taketh some small flight out of it self, and seeketh content in the smiling and delicate aire of the worlds delights, though at last they prove nothing but the Objects of grief and sorrow.

But no sooner doth adversity strike, and God hold up his finger, but the Soul re-entereth into it self, it raiseth it self above the wayes of the Moon, and com­pass of the Sun, to the goodly Temple of Eternity, where Spirits live dispoiled from these Masses of flesh and Bones which we draw along with us, in the midst of the various revolutions of this mortal life. This is the way which the Soul taketh, so soon as (through sinne) she is alienated from the Court of Heaven. She entereth into a sad retirement, and in this man­ner bespeaks her self.

O Lord, this World is irksome to me; I cry unto thee, Lord! unto thee do I fly. O thou whose cle­mency reacheth from Heaven to Earth, set my sinnes from me, as wide as the East is from the West. It is thou onely, O Jesus! that canst cure the ardours of my Sufferings. It is thou onely, that canst dry up my Tears, break my Fetters, and dissipate all my Trou­bles. If I am in darkness, thou art light; if in doubt, thou art my councel; if in danger of shipwrack, thou art my Haven; if in a Labyrinth of Dangers, thou art the Thread to guide me out; yea, if at the Gates of death, thou art my Life! O suffer me not, dear Sa­viour! now to sink under the grievous weight of my many infirmities!

Then she looks about her, as if it seemed Nature had displayed the Mountains & Valleys, the Woods, [Page 132]Forrests, and Rivers, and the great Theatre of the works of God, altogether to assist and further her in the height of her sadness. She that formerly seemed like those, that shined in the Majesty of sumptuous attire, was now covered with course Cloth. She who seemed like those that altogether sparkled with pre­cious Stones appeared now in a Livery of Sackcloth; and since he had formerly entertained a mortal beauty, was now wholly taken up, and wasted with sadness, and mortification of the Flesh.

Methinks I hear how the Soul (reasoning with her self, and being ever perplexed and involved, finding pain in repose, thirst in abundance, and seeming se­parated from the fountain of true comfort) sadly cries out; My God! I know that no good can be had with­out thee, the true and soveraign Good! In every place that I am without thee, I am in pain. All the Riches which are not in thee, seem to be meer pover­ty; All the greatness, pleasures, and profits of the World are nothing to me, unless I can call thee Savi­our. From thee onely comes that joy, which all the Saints have studied, with pain, with delight, and tast­ed with Glory. It is that which S. Peter calls, 1. Pet. 1.8. A joy vnspeakable and full of Glory. It is that which S. James said, contained the consummation of all comforts, Iam. 1.2. which S. Paul found in the Caverns of the Earth, which some have found upon Wheels, others in Flames, some in Gibbets, others on Gredirons; and lastly, it is that which descenderh from Heaven, and with Eternal streams of comfort watereth the dry and parched hearts of distressed Souls.

[Page 133]Thus was the divine Soul, like the Moon in an E­clipse, which appeareth wholly dark on the side to­wards the Earth, but faileth not to be most bright in that part which looketh towards Heaven. And though some who behold her with carnal eyes, in such a state, may think her totally darkned; yet God, in this retirement and sweetness of repose, darts his glorious Rayes upon her, through the Cloud of the Body, and causeth her to see the eyes of Angels, as a Soul wholly invested with the Sun of Righteousness.

In the mean time, she relisheth this retreat, as Manna from Heaven, and tasteth this deep silence, with incredible delight, after so many confused cla­mours of a troubled Conscience. It seemeth unto her, that she then speaks to God face to face, and that she saw all the pride of the Earth much lower then her feet. Her Soul was whitened in her Tears, and purified in her desires, pouring out all unto God, as it were through the Limbeck of her ardent Devotion, and drawing the Curtain over all worldly affairs, to be onely entertained with God.

And from this time forward, she lives beyond the sense of worldly affections. Time seems to have no Sythe for her; Death is unprovided with Darts? Ca­lumny loseth its Teeth at her, and Glory spreads throughout the Ensigns of Immortality. She seems onely to live on Extasies, turning that little breath which remained on her lips, to the praises of God. She now also sees it a matter very reasonable, that God should make use of all manner of Arms, to pro­secute a Fugitive from his Providence, who hath made a divore from its Creator, and seeks to save himself in [Page 134]a Region of nothing. She can bethink of no better way to purifie those eyes, then with tears, which are now wholly bent towards Heaven; neither any bet­ter course then mortifyings, and fastings, to whither the beautiful Roses of her face; and at last to give up that amorous heart which hath been the corrupt fountain of so many Lusts, onely to be washed, and clensed with the blood of her Saviour.

O Lord (said she) my heart was created for thee, and it will be restless until it return unto thee! Do I hunger? thou art the bread of life. Do I thirst, thou art the waters whereof whosoever drinks shall never thirst. Am I Naked? thy Righteousness is my Robe, Isai. 25.4. Thou art a Refuge from the storm, and a shadow from the heat. If I am Ignorant, thou art Wis­dome; to know thee, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent is Eternal life, Joh. 17.3. Since therefore all things are nothing unto me, without thy self, be thou all things unto me. O God! true God, of my salvati­on! my heart which feels it self moved with an af­fectionate zeal, thinks alwaies upon thee. O let the breathings of my heart fill my lips with the sounds of Love! The Lingua a­moris Tuba.Tongue is Loves Trumpet; and that love whic his sweetly in the bosome, sounds sweetly in the breath; O there­fore let my voyce be the silver Trumpet loudly to sound thy praise!

Love is the commanding affection of the Soul, con­sisting in the expansion, and going out of the heart to­wards a person or thing it wishes well to. It is the Queen Regent of the Soul, and sits upon the Throne, commanding all; where then can the distressed Soul [Page 135]better fix her affections, and but upon her Saviour, the ends of whose love ( [...]ike so many several Lines in a Compass) meet all in Love as in their alone Center? who alas! but the shaking hand [trembling for fear of guilt of sinne, and the wrath of God] is fittest then to lay hold upon him? He is all com­fort, who should partake of him, but such as are rea­dy to faint? He is our Physick, and who should re­ceive him but such as are diseased?

In this manner will the Soul, which is ever longing after her Saviour, be ever seriously meditating upon the spotless innocence, and unblameable conversati­on of its Lord and Master. It will consider what it is, through the defilement of sinne; it will frequent­ly converse with the word of God; it will still keep communion with God in prayer, it will often parti­cipate of his holy Supper; and if at any time it be surprised with Temptation, and overtaken in a fault, oh how vigilant is it at all times, and in all places [privately by her self, and publickly with others.] And when any inordinate Passion, Lust, or Distem­per, doth begin to stir in her, how doth she fly to the rich mercy and free Grace of her Saviour, for strength to crush it, in the very first rising, that she be not gi­ven ovet to impetuous desires, nor that sinnes of a high hand get dominion over her.

The thoughts also of a Gracious Soul, will be e­ver frequent towards Jesus Christ. If she lie down, all things are commended to his protection. If she rise, she desireth his guidance. If she read, or medi­tate, she craves his help. If she ear, she intreates his blessing. When she is satisfied, she praiseth his Boun­tie. [Page 136]In the beginning of her Work, she labours in his fear; in the end thereof she referres it to his Glo­ry. In scarcity, she is contented with his fulness; in plenty, she distributeth it to his Glory. All things are nothing without him, and he is all things unto her, if she have nothing else.

And though she oftentimes labour under spirituall affliction, when God is pleased to turn her mid-day into Night, and many times afflict her with bar­renness in her Soul, yet will she still be setting forth the praises of her God. If she cannot chant with the Nightingale, she will chirp with the Black-bird; she'l chatter with the Swallow, yea croak with the Raven, rather then the sighes and groans of her heart shall want pouring out. A serious survey of her manifold slips and failings shall be taken. She will be deeply humbled, loathing and detesting what she hath done amiss, confessing her offences with a mournful heart, and a weeping eye, unto the Redeemer of Men, who onely is able to comfort her.

How doth she complain, that her sinnes have even excluded all the comforts of her God, and all his Graces from her Soul? once she injoyed a sweet communion with him, but now she sinks in the Val­ley of sorrow. For why? he passeth by as a Wayfaring man, is become a stranger to her, and takes her for his Enemy. Ah, they are my sins, they are my sins, (saith she) which have thus occasion'd the with­drawment of my Saviour! And what? shall my dea­rest comforts be thus driven away by my self? woe is me, that I am constrained to live in thy Anger, and to have such a sad habitation in the dark Tents of thy heavy displeasure.

[Page 137]My God! my God! why comes thy wrath so fast upon me? O what Billowes of disquietness. arise within my heart! what sad thoughts arise within my Soul? I know not what to doe, I know not what to answer, so unworthy am I, not having any thing in me to move thy affections to me. Alas! how unfit am I to perform any service to thee? How dull, how poor, and liveless therein? yea with what vanity and distractions, are my best Acti­ons accompanied? And will Christ stoop to uphold such a worm as I am? Yes, sure Lord! my eyes are toward thee. Its true, I am a sink of sin, but thou art a Gracious God; I am the chief of sinners, yet such thou cam'st to save. What though I am darkness, yet thou art light? and however thou now seemest farre from me, thou canst again fill me with light and re­freshment. If thou once appear, the Tempest of my weather-beaten Soul will cease.

Thus at last, through a true humiliation, having found her Conscience appeased, her bloody Issue stanched, her heart enlarged, her foot-steps ordered, with delight to run the wayes of God, and her poor (and almost ship-wrack't) Vessel arrived at the Ha­ven of Gods amiable Presence, she comfortably con­cludes, that God had heard the requests of her lips, say­ing unto her (by the testimony of his Spirit) as once Christ did to the sick of the Palsie, Mark. 2.5. Son, thy sins are forgiven thee.

And here we see, how that God (who many times enricheth us by our losses, enobles us by our disasters, and raiseth us by our Ruines) brings us low, that we may not. Fecit (que) caden­do ne caderes. fall into the [Page 138]Precipice of everlasting misery. He leaves us here for a time, to behold dying Creatures, who fade, wither, and shrink insensibly into nothing [when once un­supported by the divine hand] that the House of God, and the Palace of Essences, may be the more welcome to us, where all things are immortal, vigo­rous, perfect, and incorruptible.

In this world, we see but with the two Eyes of Flesh, the whole world being still tottering, and alto­gether imperfect. But there it is where the blessed be­hold all things, stable equal, and absolute in all its di­mensions. Here it is, that our Reason is Eclipsed, and we often stray from our chiefest good; but there it is, that (after an admirable Transformation) the Soul is wholly absorpt in Felicity. And as a small drop of water pouted into the Sea, instantly takes the colour and taste there of; so the Souls taste is fully inebriated and coloured with the divine Glory. O Beauty! O Greatness! O Goodness! Beauty to in­habite in the Idea of God, as in a Paradise of Glory; and Greatness to have capacity infinite, and truly ap­prehensive of divine Majesty.

Hence also may we take notice, that as there is e­ver some weakness in humane things, which sticketh to the most smiling Felicities, and never giveth us wine, but with a mixture of dregs; so never doth the day of God shine clearly in a Soul, which hath too much light of man, and sips too deeply in the fading vanities of the world [such dayes being seldom with­out Clouds.] For, O deceitful Riches! O fading Beau­ty! O Phantasms of Honour! How painful are ye to those that sue for you?

[Page 139]How Traiterous are ye to those that possess you, and dolorous to those that leave you? unhappy are those that prize you through error, that court you through vanity, and obtain you by iniquity.

How much better is it, to put our hands in flames, then to lay them on Crowns covered with injustice? what will it avail us, to have worn Purple, when we arrive at the period of Death, if we have defiled it with the spots of uncleaness, and that we must make an Exchange of all our glory and greatness, for a habite of Flames, which shall no more wear out, then Eter­nity? And who so blind as those who behold not the Diamonds of a Royal Crown, to sweat with horrour, upon a Head poisoned with Pride and Ambition? Who is so weak as sees it not, his best course to with­draw from the great conversations of the world, from the imbroilment of affairs, wherein is so little profit, from the Court, from specious Offices, Preferments, and Negotiations, from all worldly Ambitions, and to cultivate a sweet repose and quiet in the service of Jesus.

O God of the Patient, and Eternal mirrour of Pa­tience! may my Soul for ever hover in that Region where thou inhabitest; may it speedily arrive to that fortunate Island, where divine tranquility dwelleth, and where there is an everlasting springof Beauty, and Glory! may it enter into the Temple, and may the continual odours of the Sacrifice of Reconciliati­on, Mercy, and Propitiation, mount up to thy Throne, which thou taughtest us upon Calvary, in the bitter and sharp dolours of thy body; amidst the sor­row of Heaven, the darkness of the Sun, the opening [Page 140]of Sepulchres, the breaking of Stones, the effusion of thy Blood, and the desolation of thy Soul. And as thy arms, Blessed Lord! were stretched out upon the Cross, so at last receive me into the stretched-out arms of thy mercy.

The Sin-sick Soul can take no rest until she be further reconciled to her Saviour.

AS there is never any thing good, without the ex­perience of evil, so God is often pleased here to afflict his Children, the berter to make them re­lish his comforts. And hence is it, that (as David saith) Psal. 55.19. The wicked fear not God, because they have no changes; God sending troubles to his Children in mercy, but gives prosperity to the wicked in his wrath.

And hence it is, that while the workers of iniquity do flourish, the children of God [being heavy loa­den with the weight and burden of their sinnes] cry out Lay on us, O God! any affliction, rather then suf­fer us to prosper in the way that is evil! As the little Nightingale which lives innocently, by some little seeds of Plants, sings sweetly (while we see all those Birds of Prey, which feed upon the flesh of Beasts, send forth a horrid cry.) And as the poor Turtle ceaseth not to groan, having lost her Mate, and of­ten beholds her self in the silver streams, where, in e­very wave she sees, she laments the waving Image of her misfortune, yet is far more secure (since the me­melancholly Object of pitty) then those who are more obvious to the eye of the Fowler; so a pious [Page 141]Soul (though seemingly deprived of her sweet liber­ty, and seeing her self severed from all commerce with Man kind, to be banished into a Desert, where nothing but Rocks are witnesses of her sufferings) is notwithstanding still fastned unto God by Chains, not to be dissolved, whom she fervently desires to vouch­safe her comfort, and to confirm her spirit, which was descended into the bottom of the miseries of this world.

When the poor Soul hath offended her God, she can never be friends with her self, untill she be re­conciled to him, and conceive his countenance to be turned again to her. If he once but hide himself, she looks forward, if he be there; on the right hand, and on the left, if she may find him. She takes all ocasi­ons of holy Conferences, and useth all means (with the Spouse) to enquire for her Beloved, which way he was gone, and whether he was turned aside. Early and late doth she seek the Lord of her life; she takes no rest in traversing the Forrests, the Woods, the Meadows, the Mountains, and Floods, Cant. 1.3. and 6.3. She seeks him by night whom her Soul lo­veth; she will arise, and look about the streets, with groans and cryes, with sighes and prayers, in her Chamber and Closet, in Church and Chappel, she sends up her vowes to the God of her salvation.

How powerfully also doth she desire God (first be­dewing her own eyes) to water the barrenness of her Soul? what sad complaints (being all swoln with Tears) doth she pour out? What, is Heaven turn'd Brass, that neither Tears, nor sighes can enter, Shall there be no more commerce between Heaven, and [Page 142]the unhappy Progeny of sinfull Adam? Alas, O God! saith the forlorn Soul) Wilt thou alwayes be hidden from me? Shall I never see that face, which with one glimpse of splendor, can make me eternal­ly happy? where am I? what do I? Alas my soul is in night, and darkness; and I sadly feel, (O blessed Sa­viour! that thou art far from me. My heart is near sinkingin a sea of sorrow; I row strongly, but can advance nothing, except thou come into my Soul. Come then, O my most blessed Saviour! walk upon this tempestuous Sea of my heart; say unto me, It is I, be not afraid. O come speedily and Reign within me, to disperse those cares, to enlighten my understanding, to enflame my will, to cure my Infirmities, and reco­ver my decayed Senses!

Many and bitter (no doubt) are the assaults of Satan all this while, within the poor Soul. Can God love thee (saith he) and leave thee thus to my po­wer? Why then is all this befaln thee? where are all his mercies thou boastest of? sure he hath now for­saken, and delivered thee into my hand, why then shouldst thou wait any longer? But still doth the Soul stop her ears to the voyce of his deceitful char­ming, not doubting, that (however Christ had for a time withdrawn his wonted favour) he was still her Advocate, and (even at that instant) pleading her case, and answering for her (at the Bar of Gods Ju­stice) all those suits which Satan was then objecting against her.

Oh (saith the Soul) it is he that dyed for my sins, and rose again for my Justification! my own Righte­ousness (alas!) is but as menstruous Rags. It is he [Page 143]onely that was made [for me] Wisdome, Righteous­ness, and Redemption! Rom. 5.25. It is he that hath satisfied an infinite Justice for my sinnes! Isai. 53.4, 5, 6. It is he that bears my grief, and car­ries my sorrows, and will at last cure my sufferings.

Behold then the various Dispensations of a mer­ciful God! Oh the wonderful experience of a strong belief, in a high mounted Soul! whose excellent Graces of Charity and Humility, are like so many wings to carry her above all the sense of her pre­sent Afflictions; giving her to see, that though Je­sus were sometimes pleased to hide himself in the Gospel (as the Sun within a Cloud) yet he would again draw the Curtain, the Sun of Righteousness would appear with healing in his wings; and (notwithstanding his present withdrawment) did receive her sighs, and bottle up her Tears, and would again shew himself in the best time.

And whensoever the ship of her Soul seemed wrack't, then would she endeavour to save her self upon the Rock of his infinite mercy: at this Pool of Bethesda, would she still lie, until he cured her; on this Thread would she catch to bear up her wounded spirit; and upon him would she still wait, who loves those to the end, whom he once loves, whose presence she always desired to cherish, and resolved still to wait on him, who (but for a time) hides his face from the house of Jacob, Isai. 8.17.

And Iob. 10.1. [laying her complaint upon her self] How often would she thus expostulate with her offended God. Ah Lord! the marks of thy boun­ty Semel electus, semper dilectus. [Page 144](I confess) are no less, then all I am, and have! Ah, wretched I! that continually wear about me all the Tokens of thy kindness, and yet not love thee? what shall I answer, when thou saist unto me? I created thee like unto my self. I made thee a little God on Earth, I imprinted on thy fore­head the Character of my Greatness. The Sun shi­ned on thee, the Earth supported thee, the Creatures clothed thee, and yet thou hast forgotten me. O ad­mirer of thy self, and ignorant of my works! Why hast thou husbanded my goods, as to change them in­to evil?

Alas, poor Soul! what evidence will (at the last day) be produced against thee? The Devils, who first tempted thee to sin, will then rise up as witnesses a­gainst thee. The Angels of God (before whom thou shouldst not have sinned) will then testifie against thee. The abused Creatures will then be brought in to thy conviction. The Messengers of God will cry a­loud against thee for neglecting their Doctrine. All the personal mercies which thou hast received, will also be so many evidences against thee; the Earth that bore thee, the Air thou breathedst in, the Food which nourished thee, the Clothes which co­vered thee; the Creatures that laboured for thee, the Houses thou dwelledst in, and all things else that served for thy use, will then further thy condemnati­on.

And may not God himself justly expostulate with thee? Did all my mercies deserve no more thanks? shouldst thou not have better served me, that gave them? was I so hard a Master, was my work so hard, [Page 145]and unreasonable; or my Rewards of so little value, as no way to perswade thee to my service? Ah ungrate­ful wretch! that the love of God, the evil of sinne, the blood of thy Saviour, the Judgements to come, the Glory promised, and the punishment threatned, should not be as forcible to draw thee to Holiness, as a little fleshly delight and worldly gain, is to draw thee to wickedness!

O whether will thy mind fail, when distempers shall steer it! Whether will thy Fancy run, when Di­seases shall ride it! What Hell wilt thou frame within thy Conscience? Watchings will surprize thee, Dreams will terrifie thee; and if some terrible Bird do but croak in the Night, it is presently, the sad voice of some dead man, who bids thee prepare for ano­ther world.

Ah! that thou couldst but think of thy perplexed condition, vvhen thy conscience (being once awaken­ed) shall blush, and stare thee in the face! when thy sins [with David] Psal. 51.3. Shall be ever in thy sight! Then will thy mouth be confessing, thy eyes weep­ing, thy cheeks blushing, thy hands writinging, and smiting thy bosome, thy heart-bleeding, thy Heart­strings breaking, and thy voice crying out (vvith Cain) My sinnes are greater then can be forgiven! Then too late wilt thou cry, Lord have mercy upon me; vvhen a ruinous house shall be ready to fall about thy ears; vvhen tediousness of sickness, loss of Goods, and con­fusion of understanding, shall encompass thee, when thy windy sighes, and deep-fetch't Groans of thy breaking heart, when the misty Clouds of thy closing eyes, the Roaring thunder of thy stammering [Page 146]tongue [sometimes perchance venting horrible Oathes and Blasphemies] shall represent nothing but Images to the Beholders.

And alas! vvhat vvilt thou do, when in the last ago­nies of Death, thy Body shall feel such great distur­bances, as will make thee to turn here and there, to rub the Bed-clothes, vvhich over-power thee with Con­vulsions, vvhich choke thy speeches, make thy Visage Pale, thy memory to faulter, and a cold sweat to o­ver-spread all thy body; which is onely encompas­sed, with weeping eyes, whining countenances, di­stracted looks, affrighted and dejected Visages, hide­ous out-cryes, and perchance (which is worse) with petty Furies?

Ah! what content wilt thou then take, when Death comes to sound his last Trumpet in thy Ears; saying unto thee, Come, let us be going, thou must dislodge from thy Riches, thy large possessions, from thy Beauties and fading Pleasures, from thy friends, and from thy kindred, and never more to return a­gain?

Oh! how bitter will be the remembrance of death; how harsh will it be unto unmortified spirits, when they shall say to the Body; ah, whither goest thou, dear Hostess! whether goest thou! Thou hast hither­to most tenderly pampered me, pompously cloathed me, wantonly cherished me; I was thy Idol, thy Pride, thy Glory; and whether now must thou go? What, into a Grave with Serpents, and Wormes? alas! what wilt thou do there, and what will become of thee?

Thus fares it with distressed Souls in the shades of [Page 147]Death, when (fixing their dying eyes upon their former acquaintance) they find some weeping, o­thers screeching; some fainting, and all (under a veil of sorrow) encompassing their Bed, with this sad Note: alas! do you leave us, and shall we meet no more? Farewel pleasing amities! adieu all our sports, feasts, and loves! now is the time come, that me must leave all our earthly acquaintance, all our Table friends, Ranters, Gamesters, Amorists, and all the de­lights of former Companies, since from this moment, we shall be for ever separated!

Whereas, far otherwise shall it be with those hea­venly and victorious souls, who have lived to God. Time, and the Laws of Death, have nothing to af­fright them with. All that they have to do, is but to go out of a dark Dungeon, and a streight Prison, to leave a world of sadness and misery, and enter into a spacious Temple of Eternal Splendors; where their Being shall have no end, their knowledge no igno­rance, nor their love suffer change.

Repair then unto him (O my Soul! who is all-sufficient; and though the discharge of thy duty be above the power of thy ability; yet can he give thee a heart to perform what he requireth from thee. There is no Prison for a Soul whom God hath set at liberty. The whole world belongs to him, who knows how to misprise it. God seeketh thy conversi­on, and he is able to turn thee; He requireth thy faith, and he is able to make thee believe; he requi­reth thy love, and by knocking at the door of thy heart, he is able to get entrance into it.

Be not sad then, O my Soul! but adore that infi­nite [Page 148]mercy, which doth at any time chastise thee with Temporary punishments, being not willing to make thee an Object of that fury, which is kindled by Eter­nity of Flames! Why shouldst thou not bend all thy affections to Jesus, who is onely able to delight thee? Why shouldst not thou be enamoured of his Beauties? Why shouldst thou not sigh after his Attractives? If we behold the Sun, we cannot chuse but love God, that Glorious Light being the Image of the Sove­raign King, the Eye of the which enlightneth the Stars in Heaven, createth the Fruits and Flowers upon Earth, and giveth strength to all living Crea­tures. How pleasant a thing also is it to behold those goodly Forrests, to trace those flourishing Woods, to be delighted with the murmuring Waters, to hear the pleasant notes and warbling of Birds, in the sweetness of solitude, and retirement.

But, O my Soul! rest not here. Let thy Spirit fly to that hidden Spirit, which thus distributeth it self through so many melodious Divisions throughout the whole world. When thou contemplatest the world, and all things thereto belonging, think on that se­cret Spirit which insinuateth it self thereunto with such admirable power, ravishing sweetness, and incom­parable harmony! Oh love thy Jesus, because he is fair, and made all these Beauties, presented before thee! Love him, because he is good, and communi­cateth himself unto thee! Love him, because he is thine, and thou art wholly his! O be thou still touch­ed with his beauty, his wisdom, and goodness, and let his mercy still soften thy heart!

And how (a thousand times) wilt thou bless the [Page 149]hour of this Resolution? Ah Jesus! why should I argue any longer with my vain Thoughts? Why should I dispute any longer with my sinful Lusts? Why do I not fly away, weigh Anchor, set Sails, and go forward towards my Eternal happiness? Shall I create unto my self an Empire in my Banishment? shall I suppose my self in a Haven, in the midst of shipwrack? surely the Soul, which is ravished with the contemplation of Heaven, will not stay upon Flesh. She hath nothing to do with the standing pud­dles of Egypt which do onely enflame thirst in her veins; but is ever seeking refreshment in the Cisterns of Bethel.

No more will she ask, where is her God become? not a tract of a Tear will be visible on those cheeks, where Flouds and Billowes of sorrow had formerly appeared. Though formerly she went weeping under the heavy load of her sinnes, she at last returns with precious seed, she soons recovers her joy, Psal. 51.10.11. and peace, and loseth no Graines, Psal. 126.6. but ra­ther gets ground in the fire of Tempta­tion, she receives double (with Iob) for all her losses, for a Cup of Affliction, Vessels of joy; and for a few disconsolate dayes, moneths, and years of de­light, and comfort in Heaven; where she no longer complains of her frailties, but cryes out; It is enough Lord, it is enough what am I, or what is my Fathers House, that thou shouldst thus deal with me? And oh! if there be such pleasures in the Kingdom of Grace, how unspeakable are those laid up for us in the King­dom of Glory.

The Soul is ravished upon the Return of her Saviours Presence.

THough the Soul of Man may live at uncertainties, upon a certain Faith, and (in time of desertion) trembling may accompany the people of God; yet it truly relies upon Christs mercy, Job 13.15.16. Psal. 6.8. it shews a true saving and justifying faith in the very act of Reliance and dependance. And though Gods Afflictions are oftentimes like hot Spices, comfortable to the stomack, though hot in the mouth, yet the Soul [with the Spouse] is ever wa­king, whensoever it falls into any spiritual slumber.

The greatest darkness ordinarily (as we use to say) is about the break of day. And it is not impossble, but that (when sadness and melancholly [which is many times the Nurse of doubting] shall pervert our Reason, and clad the Soul in mourning weeds) there may be an Eclipse at the fairest Noon, through the with-drawment of Gods favour, and the interposi­tion of Satans Temptations. The dark Cloud which sometimes comes between God and the Soul, is a­gain cleared with many Lights, and most sweet con­solations, insomuch that being again gilded over with the most radient Splendors and admirable Beauty of her beloved, she breaks out with profusions of heart, not to be expressed.

Holy Asaph may complain, Will the Lord absent himself for ever? Will he be favourable no more? hath God forgotten to be Gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercy? Psal. 77.7.8, 9. and yet all this expostulating with God, is not because he suspects [Page 151]the truth of his Promises; but because (at such times) the Soul cannot so plainly see it; it looks upon its sinnes in a multiplying-Glass, and in the gloomy day of Affliction, is ready to behold them, as an evidence that it wants that interest in God, it should have, and thinks (with David, and the Church) it is whol­ly cast off, Psal. 43.2. & 44, 9, & 80, 1.

But after those fainting and soul-swounding fits, and too much eying and poaring on sin, without obser­ving the nature of God in his Covenant, when the poor Soul, as well looks upwards with one eye towards Gods mercy, as with the other downward on her sins, she is kept from being over-powred with Satans temptations; she concludes there is yet some help in her God; she still layes hold on the merits of her Saviour. And however her stomack may be gone for a time, yet (when she awakes out of her spiritual De­sertion) she cryes out, Surely the Lord is in this place, though I knew it not. Ps. 4.3.8 I shall again sit at Davids Table, who bids me to come and taste, and see how good the Lord is. Fear not (O Spouse) thy Be­loved is not wholly departed; Be not troubled if thy journey to Canaan be through the wilderness of this world, and if (in thy way to Sion) thou pass through the valley of Baca, since Christ is a Cloud and Pillar to direct thee.

Thus by the Gates of Hell, doth God oftentimes shew us the way to Heaven. He (who is not tyed alwayes to bring a Soul thither by one and the same Road) can make Death the way to life. The Sun of Righteousness is stil bright, though behind a Cloud, and not seen to us. The Nurse is withdrawn oftentimes, [Page 152]that the Mother may get the chiefest affections of the Child. And though God leave a poor Soul, labour­ing in the Pangs of Desertion; yet (through the Sun-shine of Gods countenance ripening its Graces) cloudy weather still advantageth her growth, and her Barrenness, at last yeelds a fruitful Harvest; Gods re­lief comming alwaies in the best time, and she pati­ently attends his help from Heaven, even until the fourth [which is the last] watch of the Night.

And when (vvith Peter) she is freed out of the Pri­son of strong Temptation, and God is pleased to come in unto her, with abundance of comfort: Oh! how is she raised to bless the Lord, who hath forgiven her sinnes, and healed all her infirmities! The waves of Terrours, and flouds of Afflictions, never beat so vi­olently upon her, neither did she so much complain of spiritual wants, as now she saw the wonders of God in the deep, and the infinitenefs of his Wisdom in the dispensations of comfort, and joy, of grief, and terrour. The Souls complaint, now is no longer, Where is my God become? or that, There is no sound­ness in her flesh, because of his anger. All her distem­pers seem but as so much Physick, to clense her from her manifold sins: Yea, she now seems even drown'd in sweetness, and (in sinking, cryes out; Oh the breadth of thy unfathomable love! what Saint; what Tongue, what Angel, can speak out thy unexpressible kindness? Ephes. 5.17. Thou hast loosed my Bonds, Oh that my heart could burn in love to­wards thee! Oh that I could (as I desire) make known to others, hovv good thou hast been to me! in preserving, strengthning, and fixing my fiath on [Page 153]a Rock, not to be over-born vvith the storms, and swelling Surges of Satans Temptations!

Methinks I meet thee every where (O blessed Je­sus!) with a hundred arms unfolded, to do me good! what place, what time, what moment, is not filled vvith thy Bounty? Though passions have (for a time) assailed my mind, and thy Terrours have affrighted my spirits; yet behold, now thy Grace hath shot through the dark Clouds of my Sin, and doubting, thy Darts have pierced the Center of my heart, with quickning sparklings, my spirits are come again: Ah, how my Soul is fill'd with joy, ravishment, and admi­ration.

Oh God! who is he, who beholds the fading sha­dows of the world [this dismal place, where cares and sorrows are still growing young, and never die] that would ever betray his Soul, Heaven, and his God, to yield obedience thereunto? who vvould be­tray an Eternity of blessing, for a Pleasure so short, and wretched? who would build Tabernacles here, to lose a Mansion among Celestial Souls, where Love onely Reigns? who would not give a farewel to those earthly Cottages, to ascend those mounts of Bliss, vvhere every season is a constant Spring? who vvould desire to make his name great here on Earth, and desire to have them enrolled among the Saints in Heaven?

O what Celestial mirth! what an expansion of all the faculties of the Spirit; yea, what rejoycing is there in the heart of Man, vvhen Christ begins to make it his Throne? all Powers do him homage, all Passions render him service. Who can conceive what joy pas­seth [Page 154]in the Soul, vvhen Jesus is pleased to take up his lodging in it? Hovv is the heart excited, awakened, and enflamed towards Heaven? what distaste is there of all things in the world? It is as light to bleared eyes; It is as food to hungry Travellers; It is the repose to the wearied, the Country of poor Pilgrims, and the Crown of all our happiness.

Nothing but Fires, Desires, Sweetness, Affections, Joyes, and Admirations, will transport our Souls, ha­ving once regained our wel-beloved; our thoughts will wholly be employed upon Jesus, we shall be dead and insensible to all the Objects of the world. All the Thornes wherewith it is encompassed, will seem as Roses. If we swim in the Tears of Wotmwood, it will be no other then sweet water. All the wounds we receive will be but like Rubies and Pearls. Our Maladies will prove but sports; our Calumnies will be our blessings; yea, Death it self no other then a happy life.

When the Soul sleeps, Jesus is in her sleep; vvhen she speaks, Jesus is under her Tongue; when she Writes, Jesus is under her Pen; and when she is mer­ry, she chaunts forth the praises of her Jesus; in her solitude, she seems all environed with Raptures. And vvhen any reproves her for being alone, she cries out, nothing less, before she vvas interrupted with their company. In the morning she grieves to think, how often she shall offend God before Night. Being about to rest, she bitterly (vvith scalding Tears) la­ments, that she shall have no more power over her Dreams, but offend her Saviour while she slept.

Thus is her mind alwayes running after her dear [Page 155]Spouse. Se is in a prison of Love, vvhere her Thoughts, her Hopes, her Joyes, were Chains. And still doth she elevate her self upon the wings of Faith, in the highest postures she can towards Heaven, taking the choisest affections vvith her, vvhereby to ascend that Mountain of pure and inexpressible light. She vvell knew, that true Pleasure, vvas to be found no vvhere, but in God, vvhose Joyes are like those Gar­dens which never vvither, but are perpetually watered vvith immortal Graces. And oh! How [if it vvere possible] vvould she express her love to him by daily offering her self a hundred times for him, in as many Sacrifices as she hath Thoughts, and Body, Members!

Never Ship (laden vvith Gold) arrived more glad­ly at the Haven (after many tedious Tempests, and a thousand disasters among Pirates at Sea) as the poor soul novv seems to take content in the love of God. And having spun out all the Web, vvhich he gave her, cryes out, I have ended all, the hopes of the vvorld! why stayest thou O my God! to receive my Soul, which I bear in my lips? O Jesus! at whose name the Heaven; the Earth, and Hell, do bend the knee! I now care not what I suffer for thee, so I sin not a­gainst thee, so I may for ever injoy thee!

Thus the love of God is like Lightning in a Cloud, still striving to break forth; and suffers the Soul to take little rest in any thing, but what it undertakes for the glory of her Maker, Joh. 11. who many times defers the cure, that his power may be the more manifest; the heats of affliction, being but the chafing of thewax whereby he means to seal us nearer to himself, and the spots of our infirmities, but the Letters wherein [Page 156]to write his Name. He makes his servants more emi­nent in their sufferings, then actions; yea, makes them remarkable (with the Apostle, 2 Cor. 6.4, 5.) In much Patience, in Afflictions, in Necessities, in Di­stresses, in Stripes, in Imprisonments, &c.

And as in worldly Amities, it is not enough to have affections, languours, and lip complements, without some better effects; so the Souls love consisteth not in slight affectations, or idle Devotion. She knows that whosoever doth truly love, must serve Jesus, whose will must be executed, his Cross carried, and our selves wholly transformed into him, by imitation of his Ex­ample. She looks no more upon a withered and rotten Gourd, upon the seducements and flatteries of a most odious and decayed Prostitute. But Heaven is still in her Eye, where wealth, without want; delight without distaste, and joy without sorrow (like unde­filed and uncorruptible Virgins) sit cloathed and crowned with Glory.

A devout Soul, resembles those Rivers, which run under the Earth. It steals from the eyes of the world, to seek for the eyes of God. It studies solitude and retirement, and is wholly shut up within it self. Whence it often happens, that those of whom we speak least on Earth, are the best known in Heaven; and while the world thinks they lie upon Thornes, their Beds are made of Roses. Yea, God usually makes Ladders and Footstools of our Tribulations, to lead us unto Heaven.

Happy then, is that life, which hath no eyes for carnal Beauties! it being a shame for us still to tread on Flowers, and think to attain Heaven, without being [Page 157]acquainted with the troubles of Earth, to be embarqued in the great Ship of Christianity, and not sometimes to cast our eyes on the Rocks; but (like Jonah and the outcasts from Gods Presence) to sleep securely under the Hatches.

And for ever blessed is that life, which is no way dazeled with the sun-shine of worldly vanities! How freely doth it taste the comforts of Heaven? How doth it forsake the painted pieces of the world? what plea­sures will it [one day] take in this one Pleasure? what joy is it to derive all our Joys from this one Fountain? Why say we not then with S. Austin? O Fountain of Life, when shall we come to thy Delights, and eternall sweetness! I sigh here on Earth [holy Hierusaleus] in a dry Land! O dear City! with weeping eyes, we behold thee afar off!

Tell me then (if thou canst) O fond worldling! what is it that thou so strangely sets thy thoughts on? What, alas! is it that thou so passionately seekest? Wilt thou have Honours? who hath more then God, to whom so many States, Kingdoms, and Empires are but a drop of dew? Hast thou high thoughts with thy self, who more high then thy Saviour, who makes Hea­ven to bow under the shadow of his Majesty, who sits upon Thrones, and shall at last come with his Angels to judge the World? Oh, but thou wouldst have power in thy hands! Alas who more great then this Judge, who makes the Thunder to roar, the Lightning to fly, the Rocks to rent, the Earth to quake, the Elements to melt; there being neither Place, Time, nor Power, which can deliver any out of his hands? If wisdome af­fect thee, who more wise then that God who hath the [Page 158]Riches of Eternal wisdom, who seeth all within him­self, and to whom all things, past, present, and to come, are [at one instant] represented?

But it may be (O wavering Soul!) thou art wearied with the cares, griefs, vexations, and anxieties of the world; If so, where canst thou find repose out of God? Hath he not all the contentments for the Soul and bo­dy? But thou saist again, thou art no body without Pleasures; yea, the desires of thy heart, are unsatisfied without them. And is there not a fulness of joy in thy dear Saviour? Is he not an abundance, which ne­ver fails; a sweetness, which never corrupteth, a Feast which never consumes? Is he not a perpetual Trea­sury of Comforts, and an unexhaustible fountain of all contentments?

Methinks (oh unsatisfied Soul!) I hear thee yet further to complain, thou wantest Riches. And dost thou think to receive them anyway, but from him who possesseth all? He is the Beauty of fields, the lustre of Flowers, the pleasantness of Fruits, the wealth of Minerals, and the Magazin of total Nature? Cannot he, whose care it is every year to make Garments, all besprinkled over with the pearls of so many Mea­dow flowers, satiate thy hungry desires?

Surely, would we but thus, by continual familiarity, adore that most pure Spirit which thus enlivens us, and disperseth it self throughout the whole world, we should not look upon the Sun, but break out into de­sire for that eternal Light, wherein there is neither blemish nor darkness. We should not behold the Sea, but admire the secret depths of the Judgements of God, We should not cast our eyes upon the Fields, [Page 159]but [in so many sorts of Hearbs and Flowers different in colour, and quality] behold the beautiful eyes of him that hath ordained them; neither should we hear a Bird to sing, but we will conceit it to speak the love of our Maker.

The Soul being re-advanced on the wings of Faith, sends up her choicest Affections towards Heaven.

THose that are throughly wounded with heavenly love, Cant. 3.1, 2, 3. are sending out their sighs and groans, their thoughts and tears, to seek out the wel­beloved of their Souls. No return, nor Letter pleaseth them wherein the Name of Jesus is not comprised. They pretend not any more to the Greatness and plea­sures of the world, after their former affliction, but throw themselves, between the arms of the Cross, that they may there find those of their Saviour, daily dissolving themselves into Tears, and meeting no comfort but in the wounds of their Saviour, and a heavenly Retirement.

And O how great is the comfort, in seeking the re­medies of our wounds, in the Mercies of an infinite God! who [being in his Nature most wise and bounti­ful] hath not so given man over, as a prey to grief and calamities, but hath [withal] reserved a life of spirits to himself, whereby to please and adore him. He wipes the eyes of those that are his (so many times drench­ed in Tears) and makes them see (through their grea­test sufferings) a glory and happiness not imaginable, which expects their Soul in another life.

Ah welcome, welcome, that affliction which is rais­ed [Page 160]from our Saviours Love! Happy is that chastisment which comes from so fatherly a hand! What though I smart, though I bleed under the stripes of my hea­venly Father? sure there cannot be so much pain in them, as comfort in the love of him that layes them on. Did he not use to chastise every one whom he doth receive, Heb. 12.6, 8. Alas! I might suspect my self? But O repining Soul! must thou alwayes feed upon dainties? will not the Crums which fall from thy Ma­sters Table, sometimes suffice thee? Canst thou not be content to touch the Hem of his Garment? Hast thou eaten so plentifully of the Loaves of his mercy, & canst thou not sometimes be content to fast with him in the Wilderness? Wilt thou be with him in the Calm, and not (with Peter) adventure to him on the waves of Trouble?

Thus doth the poor Soul often check her self for her great faintness under the power of some affliction. But though she see it a sad thing to row, where Jesus is not in the Boat, yet at last she finds all things to fall out aright with those who embarque with him! If he once say, It is I, be not afraid, Mat. 14.6.26. How quick­ly doth the storm of temptation cease? Nothing seems grievous to a sincere Christian, so as (at last, with the Apostle) he may finish his course with Joy. He is like a Pearl coming out of the salt Sea, beholding himself involved (almost from his birth) in great acerbi­ties, and horrible confusions, from whence he mounts with so much lustre, as to make his adversities the steps to the Temple of Glory.

That Soul, which hath brought it self to love God a­bove all, and to despise all, in comparison of him, and [Page 161]accounts it self unhappy, if [for one moment of time] diverted from the sweet Idea's, and most sublime thoughts of his person, will with comfort, pass over all the troubles and acerbities suffered in in his service, perpetually languishing with most ardent desires, to behold him face to face.

Have you never seen those poor Tulips in a Garden, shut up with melancholly under the shadie coldness of the night, which in the next morning have been (as it were) unlock with the Key of the Suns Rayes? Just so doth it happen to those drooping Souls, who some­times seem benummed and frozen through the want of that Presence, which at last enlivens them with great refreshment and cheerfulness.

Who would have thought that Jonah, when (contrary to the advice of his Master) he would turn Polititian, and fly from his Presence, should forthwith be swal­lowed by the greedy Ocean; yet behold (when the Tempest pursued him, the Sea raged on him) the Belly of a Whale which we thought his Sepulcher, became his Palace, & wherein had he not been buried, he had dyed.

Sure there is, I know not what kind of charm, in holy sadnesses, which cannot be sufficiently expressed; but such it is, that a Soul [contristated from God] when it is fallen into those Abysses, wherein all the world re­putes it lost, findeth in the bottom of its heart, such lights and sweetnesses, as that there is not any comfort in the world to be compared with them.

Still is the dejected Soul crying out, My God! I a­dore thy holy Providence, which sometimes drencheth me with Gall and Wormwood, in an age wherein o­thers are accustomed to vvalk on Roses! Thou know'st (O Lord!) that my pride hath need of such a coun­ter-poise, [Page 162]and in all equity, hast thou done that, which thy wisdom thought good. What though mine eyes are moistned, and fail not every night to pour forth streaming Rivers? Is it reason I should live without some light hurt, seeing thee wounded on all sides for my example? Can I receive or take contentment in the hopes of a better fortune? Where should I gather those pleasures that I shall (at last) in joy in thee? Its true; I am yet upon the weeping banks of the River of Babylon; But since thou hast (at last) promised to wipe off those Tears, since thou hast told me, Thy yoke is easie, and thy burden light, and hast at last promised to ease all those that labour and are heavy laden; why should I not fix all my consolations and songs at the feet of thy Cross? why should I desire any thing more in the world, then the performance of thy holy will?

Observe then, whosoever thou art that readest these lines, of what wood God useth to frame his Saints. Do we not see oftentimes, that some escape out of Prison by fire; others (falling into precipices very gently) have found their liberty in the bottom there­of; others, to whom poyson hath turn'd into nourish­ment; others, to whom blowes of a Sword have pro­longed life! by opening their Impostumes; yea often it is, that the seeds of good hap, are sometimes hid under the appearances of evil. Oh silly humane Pru­dence then, which darest to row against the providence of God! finding us many precpices in thy passions, which seem so pleasing to thee, as thou openest snares to betray thy poor soul!

Is it possible that any, who bears the Name of a Chri­stian, should not be grieved to lead a life an Enemy to the Cross of Christ? That so many good men, as [Page 163]we read of, should by the power of virtue afflict their bodies, and preferre contempt above all that the world esteemeth, that they might conform to the sufferings of their Saviour, and any contentment should be de­lightful, which comes not from divine things, and blots out all the memory of sensual delectations.

Can it possibly be, that the Soul, which hath forsaken the Love-dalliances of the world, and razed out of his heart all other love (as the Rayes of the Sun scatter the Shadows and Phantasms of the Night) should any more delight in its former pleasures? No sure, she re­turns (as from the Country of the dead) with lan­guishing voyce, and interrupted words, she bedews her self with tears for every vain thought and idle word, which offers violence, or makes the least breach on her former engagement.

When David avvaked (as it were out of a dead sleep) after he had remained nine moneths covered with filth, and blood, without coming to himself, un­til Nathan took away that veil that blinded him; how soon did he become another man? He was no more that amourous David, but a Penitent exceedingly humbled; having a heart bleeding, eyes weeping, a sad and disfigured face, a body made thin, sighings re­doubled one upon another; Joynts pined away with fastings, and austereness, Bones broken, by reason of his sin. Society was unpleasing to him, the light unwel­come to him, because reproaching him with his of­fence. His Couch swam with Tears, his Harp was em­ployed in expressing his griefs, & his whole Body (all this while dying to all mortal things of the earth) ec­choed his groanings, and swell'd with weeping on the Sea of Repentance, until he regained that presence, [Page 164]from which he desired God never more to cast him.

And oh, that we could but cast those eyes, which have so often descried the fair prospects of the world upon Jesus our Saviour, the true brazen Serpent to free us from the Serpents of Hell Fire! yea (O dear Saviour!) look back upon me, as thou didst upon Peter! cast those eyes upon me, which did incessantly watch for my salvation, even to the passing of whole Nights in sighs and Prayers! O cast those eyes of love, of mercy and compassion upon me, which dart the beams of day­light into souls that love thee! Let those eyes (which are always flourishing) cool & shadow my wandering eyes, from the burning glances of lustful concupisence. Let those eyes, which no sooner began to exercise the functions of life, but were seen all in blossom, and an amourous aspect for us, allay the spreading Rayes of those open Casements. Let those eyes which from the top of a mountain, looked on a poor famished people, who wander'd through the deserts, as sheep deprived of their shepherd, guid my straying heart to thy own self.

Briefly, let those chrystal fountains, which daily distil the sweet influences of mercies; which (in dropping tears) so freely poured out themselves over miserable Hierusalem; which prov'd so efficacious for us, when thou gav'st up thy Soul, with weeping, and bleeding in the Sacrifice of the Cross, quench the flames of all un­holy desires, and abate the fervour of all sinful thoughts and affections within us.

The Soul [in a Phrensey] breaks out into admiration of Gods love, in being freed from the misery of everla­sting flames.

THe discourse of Heavenly things, is the sweetest Manna which the Soul tasteth in the wilderness [Page 165]of this world. She is ever crying out, O Glory! O Bliss! O Happiness! how have ye struck me to the heart? O when will the happy day come, that I shall sit at this Fountain-head, and not need with pain, to draw the water of pleasure? When shall I arrive at this sweet Ravishment and Extasie? Alas! my dulness, my weakness, my drowsiness? yea, ever and anon, is she crying out! Oh the compassion of that Physitian; which finding his Patients in a Phrensie, and knowing that nothing could preserve their life, but the loss of his own, is contented to die, not onely for those who were the causers of his death, but the Actors, and in­struments themselves!

Solomon saith, That Love is as strong as death, Cant. 8.6. But if we examine the strength of each, we shal find Love to be the stronger. Its true, all earthly things submit to the power of death; young and old, Kings and Peasants, Scepters, and Spades, are all alike to him. Not the Supremacy of the King also; not the ho­liness of the Prophet (as we see in David) not the gravity of the High Priest (verified in Eli to his Sons) Not the wisdom of Solomon, or the strength of Samp­son, are any way exempted from owing Homage, or paying tribute to Love, as unto Death.

If we compare also, the acts of Love, with those of Death; we shall find Love, not onely as powerful and universal, but much stronger; Death being only seen in taking the Rich, the Strong, the Wise, the Young, the Great: But O behold, how Love hath prevailed o­ver the Son of God, the Saviour, and life of the world! See how he submitted himself to his death, out of Love! Was it not Love, and onely Love, that wrestled with God, and overcame him in this, that he should leave [Page 166]the Heavens, and lay down his life, submitting himself to that death which had no power over him?

O my God what do I here see? what is this my eyes behold? Truly, my Lord, my God! death hath trans­ported thee, even to Extasie! Alas, what shall I say to thee? my heart overwhelming love! when I consi­der how many Millions are swallowed up in Eternal perdition, while I am one of that small number thou hast brought to the light of knowing thee, and find­ing the narrow way to salvation? Why didst thou set thine eyes upon me, preferring a wretch before so many thousands? was it because I was Nobler, or more excellent then they? Ah no!

O my Soul! what dost thou expect, if this be not enough to set thee on fire? Look about thee, and be­hold yet a further endearment; see thy own Country, thy Neighbours, Acquaintance, thy Kindred, and Friends; yea, how many maist thou find of all degrees, more worthy of acceptation then thy self? Oh how the Soul is fill'd with a Seraphick Love, with a fire drawn from the most pure flames of Heaven, which is uncessantly burning (being shut up within a melting heart) without consuming! and which like a Diamond, in the midst of a thousand Hammers, is never moved with all their violence; is never tempted with the glittering of Honours; but is alwayes tempering of Gall, with the most delicious contentments of this life, to follow her Jesus, her wounded Jesus, her Je­sus that was crucified for her.

Still is she crying out to her self, whence come those Lights, those Joyes, those Pleasures, Consolations, and Hopes, which are thus above our strength, and wherewith we often find our thoughts to be trans­ported [Page 167]and raised above our selves? Is it not from thee, O Jesus! who enters into our Soul, and becomes our Comforter? we need not seek thee in Heaven, see­ing thou art thus in our heart, and there utterest thy Oracles. O do thou still raise us above all the concu­pisences of flesh! let us ever love and dilate our selves in thee, which thus fillest us with the height of thy Glories! Let the sweet familiarity we have with thee our Redeemer, steal from us all extraordinary care of the worlds employments; Though we are within the world, let us be nothing less then of the world. Let us (like Fishes) live silent in the roaring of the waves, and keep our selves freshamidst the brinywaters of the Sea of this world; yea, like the beams of the Sun, let us touch the Earth, but never leave Heaven.

And since mercy provoked, changeth it self into se­vere Justice [and what Creatures then are there which will not punish a fugitive Soul, which flyes from her Saviour through her ingratitude, when he draws her to him by the sweetness of his love.] O let me [a­bove all things] fear to be forsaken of thee, my God! O let not mine eyes be the snares of my Soul! Blessed Lord! thou hast given thy self for a portion, thy Son for a Ransom, Rom. 8.32. Ier. 10.16. Psal. 16.5. thy Spirit for a Pledge; thy Word for a Guide, and thy glorious Kingdom for an Inheritance: and alas, how unable am I to value the least of thy blessings, much less to repay thee any thing for them; since I am infinitely below all thy mercies; and had I any thing worthy thy acceptance, it were all thine, and I could offer nothing to thee but thine own.

What then shall I do, but throw my heart to the feet of thy bounty all naked, all melted, without self-will, [Page 168]or povver of resistance? Lord do thy pleasure upon me, 1 Sam. 3.8. Howbeit I will not despair of my Dis­ease, vvhilst I remember the Physitian. Lord, if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean. Yea, I hope I am, even now, under thy healing hand. And though during my continuance in this Body, many infirmities oppress me, yet vvill I never leave craving what thou hast taught me alvvayes to ask.

Give me therefore a Gracious disposition; a more watchful obedience to thy law, a more mortified con­versation for the future, and more sorrow, and contri­tion of heart for what is past. O let my eyes be o­pen to see the shortness of the pleasure of sin, and the perpetuity of sinners Torments; the easinesse of thy gentle yoak, and light burden here below, and the weight of thy glory, provided for me above! since there is no moment (O Lord!) void of thy goodness; why should there be any moment void of my praise?

I know it will not be long until death consume me to the very bones, and I shall then possess nothing, but what I have done for thee. Shall I then live in this world to my self, and be still vexed with care, how to preserve a miserable life? Dear Jesus! suffer me not thus to be taught by thy Judgements, what I have neg­lected to learn from thy mercy. Time and age will one day wither the blossoms of youth. The best of our joyes are but fires of straw, or flattering sun-shines, which are suddenly either washed away with a shower, or banished by Tempests. The Sun will (at last) da­ver the freshest Roses, and Lillies. O let not then my thoughts strike sail, or my heart do homage to the transitory beauties of this world (which will onely ensnare and imprison me in the Fetters of sin) least [Page 169]the storms of an evil conscience suddenly arise, and trouble the serenity of my delights, and the tranqui­lity of my seeming felicity!

The Soul [being sensible of its former Mercies] sits weeping under the Cross of her Saviour, and re­solves to partake with him in his Sufferings.

AS Humility is seldome planted upon Crowns, and Scepters, so the wisdom of State, seldome joyns with that of the Cross, where its lustre is too often darkned, by the too much glittering of the world and ordinarily finds slippery footing amongst the Ru­bies and Diamonds of a Crown.

It was the saying of Tertullian, who flourished two hundred years after the Nativity of our Saviour, when there had been no speech of any Emperours that had embraced Christianity; Tertul. in Apol. That if the Caesars would become Christians, they would cease to be Caesars: and if the Christians would become Caesars, they would cease to be Christians; conceiving that poorness of spirit cannot consist with so high and stately Riches, neither Humility with a Soveraign Empire, or the Tears of Repentance, with the vain delights of the Court.

Surely, the hungring and thirsting after Righteous­ness [upon which our Saviour so often leaves his bles­sing] can no way stand with the desire of Pomp, and Greatness in the world, no more then Peace can sub­sist with Licentiousness of War, or pureness of heart, with the conversing with most pleasing and tempting Beauties, or the fairest hopes of the world, which are mowed dow in their flower, by the pittiless Sythe of death. Peter was never so near his ruine, as when he [Page 170]was warming himself in the Priests Hall: John Bap­tist was far more secure amongst Wolves, Foxes, and Tigers, then among the wicked Courtiers of Herod; He was more happy with his little Dinner of Locusts, and wild Honey, retired in his Cabin, then amidst the Pomps and Pleasures of the King of Galilee.

Do we know whether our Fancy will run, when Ambition rides it; or our Minds sail, when distem­pers steer them? What makes a Hermit at the Court, a solitary man in a Tumult; a David in his Tower of Pleasures; a Solomon in the midst of so many Wives and Concubines; and a Sampson, under the enticing hands of his treacherous Dalelah? Yea, what makes a sacred man amongst the prophane, or a Saint in the house of a Tyrant?

So hard is it also for Carnal eyes to behold the bit­ter Agony of our blessed Saviour; so hard is it for any Tongue (without being steeped in Gall) to ex­press his sufferings, or for any person (without pouring out of Tears) to approach his Cross. What eyes can look on thee as they should, and behold all thy flesh wholly imprinted with dolours, and thy heart drench­ed in acerbities? What eyes can (without bitter re­lenting) behold thy deadly sweat of blood? can see thee dragg'd through the streets of Hierusalem, (eve­ry one looking out at the windows to fill their eyes with gazing, and astonishment?) can see thee buf­feted, flouted, tossed from one Tribunal to another; spit on every where, despised, and maliciously affron­ted? What eyes can look on thy spread Arms, thy nailed Hands and Feet, thy rack't sinews, thy pierced side, thy bended Neck, thy faln looks, thy torn Bo­dy, thy pale and bloodless flesh, thy company to be [Page 171]of infamous Theeves, and thy miserable Favourite, and forlorn Mother, ready (through grief, to ex­pire their last breath? what ears could (with patience) hear thy doleful out-cryes to Heaven? and what heart could apprehend thee at first, received into a wretched Stable, and there laid in a Manger, and at last to con­clude thy innocent life, in so great nakedness, as that thou hadst no other veil to cover thee, then the blood which gushed from thy wounds?

Behold, O my Soul! the whole life of thy Saviour, which he passed here on Earth, and thou shalt find it a School of Christian manners; by the contemplati­on whereof, Holiness is perfected in the fear of the Lord, 2 Cor. 7.1. The world loved Riches, but he would be poor. The world loved Honours, but he shun'd and refused a Kingdom, and the Treasures thereof, the world delighted in a carnal off-spring, but he desired neither Marriage not Issue. The world feared nothing more then disgrace, desertion of friends, insulting of enemies, bodily Tortures, and Death; whereas Christ endured the rebukings of the people, the flight of his Disciples, the mockings of the Souldiers, the spitting of the Jews, and the death of the Cross.

O vvonderful! that the mighty power of the Divi­nity would thus manifest it self in the infirmity of the Cross! Sure it was onely for God to perform this great Design, and thus ascend up to his Throne of Glory, by the basest disgraces of the world; and if vve vvill be his Children, vve must make it appear by participation of his Cross, and by suffering Tribulati­on. By this Sun it is, that the Eagles are discovered. [Page 172]The good Thief saw no other Title, or sign of his Kingdom, but onely his body covered over vvith bloud, and oppressed with dolours, by that Book of the Gross, he learned all the Glory of Paradise, and apprehended, that none but God, could vvith such patience endure so great Torments.

Methinks (blessed Saviour!) I hear devout Simon (seeing thee heavy loaden with the burden of the Cross) thus expostulating with thee. O Jesus! vvhe­ther goest thou with the extream vveight of this bar­ren piece of Wood? whether dost thou carry it, and why? vvhere do you mean to set it; What? upon mount Calvary? Alas, that place is most wild, and stony! How canst thou plant it there? who shall water it? to which thou answerest; I bear indeed a piece of Wood upon my Shoulders, and carry it to mount Calvary. This Wood I bear, must bear me, to bear the salvation of the world, and to draw all af­ter me. I bear it to place it by my death, and water it with my blood.

Oh Love! canst thou love more, or express it be­yond this? yet to all these, and infinitely more tor­tures, and unspeakable miseries, was thy Saviour ex­pos'd [O my Soul! for thy sake, for thine my soul!] that thou maist not complain, thou wantest an Ob­ject, a Motive, a Pattern, or invitation to love. O mir­rour of Love! Love it self, Christ our Saviour! Hovv earnest wert thou; nay, how delighted wert thou to Treat of thy Passion? It were thy sweet words, not long before thy death, With desire have I desired to eat. And when S. Peter would have disswaded thee from thy last Sufferings, thou reprovedst him more [Page 173]for this, then for his denyal of thee in the High Priests Hall. Thou only castedst thy eye upon him, for the first (as minding him thereby of his great promise made never to deny him;) but for the other, thou bidst him avaunt; yea, call'st him Satan, as being the hinderer of thy much desired and longed for death.

Ah! incomparable Love! who can think on, and not admire the Extasies of our sweet Saviour? How is he even ravished with the object of his Death, and transported with the Idea of his sufferings? Behold, how he encourageth himself in this combate? How troubled he is at all those that hinder it? How confi­dent doth he look on the Cross, as the Fountain of his Glory? And shall we not love his Cross, which Jesus hath cherished? every place is a Paradise to him that knows how to love the Cross, and every thing a Hell to those that fly it.

Oh blessed Saviour then, who canst lift up all the Earth, with the least finger of thy power, raise up a little this sinful mass of my Body, which so sadly weighs it self down by its sinnes! O my God, fix thine eyes upon me, and thou shalt thereby bring me to the fountain of true happiness! The Father hath given me to thee, and I am the conquest of thy pre­cious bloud; and wilt thou suffer a Soul to be taken away from thee, that hath cost thee so many sweats and sufferings? Alas, Lord! thou hast but one life, and I see 1000 instruments of death, that have taken it away! Was there need of so many bloudy Doors to let out thy innocent Soul? Could it not part from thy Body, without making (on all sides) so many wounds, which after they had served for the Objects [Page 174]of mens Cruelty, serve now for those of thy mercy

O Lance! cruel Lance! why didst thou open his most tender side! But in thus playing the Murtherer, thou hast made a Sepulchre, wherein I will from henceforth bury my Soul. When I behold the wounds of my dear Saviour, I do acknowledge the stroaks of my own hand, and will therefore likewise there en­grave my Repentance, Give me then (O sacred mouth!) give me that Gall which I see upon thy lips, to sprinckle all my pleasures! divide with me, (O beautiful head!) thy dolorous Crown of Thorns, seeing it were my sinnes which sowed them! Lend me (O sacred hands, and adored feet!) the Nails that have pierced them! and while I live, let me never breathe any other life, but that onely which shall be produced from my Crucified Saviour.

Surely, we shall never be worthy of him, until we thus bear the Ensigns of his War, and Ornaments of our Peace. And alas! what reason hath wretched man to complain? Is not suffering our Trade, our Vow, our Profession? As the Clock goeth on by the help of its counnter-poise, so a Christians life never proceedeth so much in virtue, as by the counter-bal­lance of its Crosses. Make me then to serve thee, to imitate thee; yea, to suffer for thee, O thou King of the afflicted! Ah, that I had a Sea of sweet odours, to empty on an Object so worthy of love! Art thou unwilling to bear part of thy Saviours Cross? yet give (O my Soul!) give at least, tears to him, who satis­fied for thy sins!

Consider that thy [miscalled] Sufferings, ifright­ly used, are (indeed) Blessings. What if thou lose [Page 175]thy fortunes, it is to make thee know thy self; what if thy Health be empaired, it will make thee disaffect this world? What if thou lose thy Riches,, is it not to make thee seek out better? By all which, God is pleased to shew us the straightest way to that life, which he hath promised us; and to assure us by his own Tribulation [who could not but know and em­brace what is best] that the way of Tribulation, is the high-way to Heaven.

We find (indeed) Tertullian, in one place thus complaining; Eternal Wisdom! which thus cuts thy childrens Threats, and use them as Sacrifices, as if thou couldest not Crown them, but by their Torments, or Honour them, but by their punishments! But alas! he that will love, must serve. And, Behold, August. Serm. 19. de verb. Apost. (saith S. Au-gustine) The foolish Lo­vers, and Amorists of the world? are not they who are surprised therewith, ready to serve, to en­dure all commands, in Attire, in Habite, and behaviour, for a Mistress sake?

Oh foul confusion of life, and prostitution of spi­rit! God (who promiseth never to behold us with a good eye, unless we keep his Commandments) de­serves to be loved above all things. Love that can­not suffer, is not Love. Yea, the last Character of love to our Saviour, is to suffer for him, the Prince of Sufferings. Our Souls are engaged by Oath (saith Ter­tullian) to this warfare, so soon as we first enter into Chri­stianity. Tertul. ad Scap.

Besides; know we not that all Creatures of the world groan, and bring forth; that all the Elements are in Travell, and in a ceaseless agitation. The Air it [Page 176]self (say the Philosophers) is perpetually struck with the motion of Heaven, to prevent the hatching of Poyson. The Rivers are purified by their streaming current. One deep must call upon another; the deep of Afflictions calls for that of Honour; and the heights of Honour are prepared according to the mea­sure of our Tribulations. In this world Cruelty is mingled with Lights, and Pleasures with Funerals.

Gods Prison is a School of Wisdome. In this Cap­tivity are we free, under these Bonds and Irons, our Soul can walk with God, in the midst of Groans, and sighs, our heart can rejoyce, it can talk with him (though with the three Children in the midst of the fiery Furnace.) And as the most rigorous of Punish­ments, became a Throne of Honour to those three Champions (the fire forgetting it self to be fire, and the Furnace strewing it self with Roses) so all the Thorny paths of our Pilgrimage here, seem but like a Meadow, enamelled over with Flowers. If we here make Jesus the Object of our present Dolours, he will hereafter prove the Fountain of our Eternall Joyes.

Behold then, the exact method which providence keeps, in the conduct of her chosen ones! Behold the Character of an humble Soul, persecuted by the Tongues of Slanderers; by the Arms of his kindred; by the contempt of his friends, by the ingratitude of his Enemies; yea, of those upon whom he had still heaped good turns, without having the least motion to revenge, alwayes rendering good for evil. And last of all, behold him pouring out Tears of joy, under his Saviours Cross.

[Page 177]Here onely is the Sanctuary of rest, where wearied Souls may lay their heads. Here shall we be sure to meet with comfortable embraces. Here shall the ba­nished live more contented, then Kings in their greatest Royalty. Farewel Honours! farewel Em­pires, Riches, Reputation, Pleasures, and gorgious Habiliments! Farewel stately Buildings, great Pos­sessions, Gold, Silver, precious Stones, Feasts, and all earthly Pastimes! But welcome that Sickness, Ba­nishment; welcome those Chains, Reproaches, Pu­nishments, yea Death it self, which at last brings us asleep under our Saviours Cross.

O happy Cross! O welcome Troubles! why (bles­sed Jesus!) should I grieve to have those shoulders wounded with such a load, as (through thy aid) will become so pleasant unto me? The world is an un­certain Sea, where usually a Tempest doth arise, when a Calm is expected. But here's Constancy in a good course of life; Here's Patience in Tribulation; Here's Courage to support injuries, and Comfort against di­stresses. O the poor Treasures, that can be hoarded in Caves, in Houses, in Towers! What proportion do they bear to this Heavenly Treasure? O the scant pre­sence, and jealous absence, of all the Goods and De­lights of the world! How fleeting and momentary are they? how changeable are their inclinations? how hungry are the Benefits, and how pinching their Pro­digalities? How base their Ends and aims, in their most real Professions? how weak and frivolous their Passions? yea, how easily are all consum'd in a few tri­vial distasts?

O my onely God! what miserable, penurious blasts [Page 178]are these to blow the Coals of my love unto thee? Henceforth, for ever make me to run with Mary Magdalen, after the sweet odours of thy glorious presence; make it all my pleasure, to sit dayes, nights, and hours, weighing the greatness of thy Excellency, the richness of thy Glory, and the beautifulness of thy Attributes. Make me to spend all my strength in blessing thee for thy goodness, in rejoycing at thy Mercies, in admiring thy Justice, and adoring thy Truth, and in an awful Reverence of thy Eternal Ma­jesty.

Thus doth the Soul (filled with Humility, and the zeal of Devotion) often (and not without groans) speak unto her self; What? shall I triumph where my Master hath been covered with Reproaches? Shall I take glory on my head, where my Saviour hath taken the Cross upon his Shoulders? shall I adorn that head with Crowns of Pearl, where he received one of Thornes? No, O Jesus! I have too long in deep draughts, drank of the poysonous sweets of this worlds alurements. Now will I hang all Honours at the feet of thy Cross. What is Beauty, Strength, Va­lour, Wisdom, Industry, Eloquence, or all the things in the world, but Dung in comparison of thy Cross? O beloved Jesus? there can I sit, and condemn what­loever the world doth honour and esteem.

O my Saviour! what sweetness and allurements are there in thy Sufferings? Here is our Wisdome, our Justice, our Sanctification and Redemption; Here is the splendor of the celestial Father, and the Character of his substance, who by his Word, doth support the world. And shall I not take up my Cross [Page 179]and follow him, (as he hath commanded) amidst the many great Affronts, Disgraces, and Persecutions, suffered by him? Shall I not therein also accompany his Prophets, the glorious company of his Apostles, and the Noble Army of Martyrs? Did my Saviour fly from Scepters, and run to the Cross? would he have no worldly Kingdoms, because their Thrones were made of Ice, and their Crowns of Glass, and shall I not believe, that where he is, there can be no Desert or solitude?

See, see then how the Characters of a suffering God, are the dearest delights of a sanctified Soul, which is no more it self, but altogether transfigured with a heavenly transmutation! It lives wholly on the bloud of its Saviour; it breathes not, but by his spirit; it speaks not, but by his words; it thinks not, but by his Meditations. It defies Tribulation, Anguish, Pain, Nakedness, and Dangers. It adventures amongst bloo­dy Swords and Persecutions, and is no way affright­ed with burning Faggots, and boyling Cauldrons.

And if thou (O my Soul!) art at any time unwil­ling to part with this Earthly Tabernacle, think but how willingly the glorious Martyrs of Christ sacrifi­ced themselves in as many Torments as they had members. They preached on Crosses, sang in Flames, triumphed on Wheeles. Deserts and Tears, Scorch­ings and Snows, were nothing to them in the way to that Glory for which thou art unwilling to forsake a Dung-hil.

But O my God! if thou think it fit to exercise my patience, to try my faith, to correct my sin, by the wickedness of men, give me grave never to be so di­sturbed [Page 180]with the injustice of Creatures, but that I may consider the justice of thee, who art the most righte­ous Creator! O let me not be vanquished and sup­pressed by the burden of the Cross, but rather ena­bled by the weight of it, to walk more steadily in all holiness, Justice, and sobriety, before thee.

And though Affliction here seem like the Cloud, which the Prophet saw to carry winds and storms in it [but was environed with a golden Circle] yet let it, at last, be encompassed with the brightness, and smiling felicity of that day, wherein Calumny shall change it selfe into Adoration, Rage into astonish­ment, and those that are thought lost in the La­byrinth of misery, shall see themselves consecrated, and carried through their punishments, into the Ha­ven of Eternal safety!

Be not dismayed then, (O faithful Soul!) in the Sufferings and troubles of this life! suffer not thy self to be overcome with those Temptations, which will snatch so rich a Crown out of thy hands! Happy, and for ever blessed wilt thou be to enter into so incom­parable a Glory! vvhen it shall be said unto thee (ha­ving left the Deserts of this world) come now, and dwell in the everlasting delights of thy God! O throw away those vanities which too much, too much flattered thee, with the splendors of a deceitful world! Raise up thy self, and say; O when will that day come, which will restore me a body to render it to God; a body no longer of frail pondorous and pe­rishable Earth, but a body immortal, and gilded with the splendors and sufferings of my Saviour!

Yea, let us more fix our Thoughts on an Immor­tality, [Page 181]a Resurrection, an Eternal Life; a life of God gained for us, by the pains, sweats, and blood of Je­sus, to which he daily invites us; a life which will charm all our Troubles, sweeten all our rigours, purifie all our intentions, animate our virtues, and at last (after so many hardships and Travels of a wretched life, so many Calumnies and Reproaches, and after so great a Tumult of miseries) Crown us with happiness, rest our weather beaten Ark, and bring us into a sweet and quiet repose.

In Imitation of our Saviours great Patience under his Passion; the Soul resolves for ever to yield an hum­ble submission to his Will.

THe Soul of Man can hardly entertain any Porti­on of Gods will, but that wherein its own is con­cerned. It is usually more troubled for any chastise­ment, then for its sin; yea, it often mourns for sin, rather because it deprives her of comfort, then because it provoketh God: Nay, how hardly can it embrace his word, with that joy, and his providence, with that contentment, as to say [at all times] with patient Eli, It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good!

Alas! vvhat patience hath it in committing sinne; but how impatient in suffering for it? how ready to execute vice; but how unwilling to endure the punish­ment? Oh good God! How many years have I re­tain'd an inclination to sin? my Soul is bound (as it were with Iron Chains) in this unhappy Bed. Will there be no Angel to move the water for me? How [Page 182]strange a thing is it, that God should be so near us, and yet we so far from him? But alas! we are too much for the world, too fast nailed to the Earth! He that desires the society of Angels, must not embarque himself deeply in worldly affairs: God is a Spirit, and he that intends to receive good from him, must not be a slave to his Body. He that intends to find Christ, must search for him [as the three Kings did] in the Manger of his Humility; he must look for him [as the blessed Virgin did] in the Temple in his piety; yea, he must seek for him [as the Maries did] in his Se­pulchre, in the imitation of his death:

But where (O Saviour! shall I begin thy passion? shall I go with thee into the Garden? indeed there it begun; there it was, that thy Soul began to be ex­ceeding sorrowful even unto the death. There it was that thou beggest, That the Cup might pass from thee, Mat. 26.38, &c. There it was that thou sweatedst in a cold night on the Ground, in a cold Garden; yea, there it was that those drops of blood which so freely issued from thy veins, were forthwith congealed with the Air. Oh thy matchless love! Ah how sweet is the smell of it there, in thy great Ago­ny.

But shall we follow thee from the Garden into the High Priests Hall? O how hideous were the outcryes of the rude Rabble against thee! Ah Lord! what was that vvhich stopped thy ear, that thou wouldst not re­gard; or silenced thy Tongue, that thou wouldst not reply, was it not thy Love? Some spit upon thee, others smiled on thee; some railed on thee, others blasphemed thee; some scoffed, others buffeted, ma­ny [Page 183]accused, and all cryed out against thee. But stay; may we not yet follow thee further, and ascend mount Calvary? Shall we not here see thee Nailed to the Cross for our sakes? Shall we not here find thee breathing out thy last, and pouring out thy hearts blood in a shameful cursed and tormenting way? Ah the depth of thy Love! O the transcendency of thy af­fections! No man having ever thus laid down his life for his friends.

Unfortunate Sons of Adam! the effects of whose fond disobedience are now become so sadly evident! Behold thy Saviour cast on the Ground, his knees bent, his eyes over-flown with Tears; his Hands stretched up towards Heaven [all covered with gloo­my Clouds, and darkness] his heart swoln with grief, and is ready to break into some loud and doleful com­plaint against mans Ingratitude. O my God! what means this universal strife, and contention within thy own breast? Art thou daunted at the sight of danger? Is the sight of danger become so frightful to thee? Thou weepedst indeed over Hierusalem, and Mary Magdalen drew Tears from thy eyes, but not with such astonishment as this.

Thou discoursedst of thy Passion on mount Tabor but with a Glory which ravished the eyes and hearts of all that beheld it; thou hast often profest a great desire to see the hour of thy suffering; and can horror pos­sibly seize on thee? Can grief surround thee? cold and stupifying Tears possess thee, now thou art arri­ved so near the place of thy wishes? O no! thy great Design is to be tempted in all things without sinne, that we might be comforted in the tremblings and [Page 184]faintings of our heart, and that we might learn this great and difficult Lesson, how to comfort our selves at the full Tide of anguish and Tribulations.

Behold further (O my Soul!) what a glorious Lesson of Patience thy Saviour hath set before thy eyes! Bend but thy ears to those sacred words, Not my will, but thine be fulfilled: and who would think but that the excess of grief should a little disturbe thy memory? Thou fore-saw'st [no question] Blessed Saviour! those Clubs and Lantherns, Souldiers, and Officers, prepared to lay hands upon thee, and with loud cryes and scorns to carry thee to Hierusalem. Hierusalem, where thon hadst done so many miracles. Hierusalem, where thou so lately enteredst with Joy and Triumph; and yet, thou cryedst thy will be done!

Thou well knewest that Judges of all sorts, Priests and Divines, and Religious men which daily ministred at thy. Holy Altar, were appointed to discredit and accuse thee. That Kings, and Presidents, Jews, and Gentiles, and an infinite number assembled at this great Feast, would scorn and condemn thee, and yet still thou cryedst, thy will be done!

Thou beheldest those whips, and scourges, those Spe [...]rs, and Thornes prepared to afflict thee; a mock purple, and the ridiculous Scepter of a Reed to vili­fie and abuse thee; a heavy Cross, and tearing Nails, unmerciful hands, and ungrateful hearts to torment and affront thee, yet could no way alter thee from crying, Thy will be done!

It was no news to thee, that a Murtherer should be preferred before thee, and begg'd in thy place by thy beloved People, amongst whom thou spentst [Page 185]thy life; that two Theeves should be thy Compani­ons and fellow-sufferers; That Judas amongst thy own Disciples, should betray thee; that three of thy best friends should lie sleeping by thee; that Peter himself should deny thee; yea, that all should shame­fully forsake and fly from thee; and yet still O dear Saviour) thou said, Thy will be done!

Thou sawest afore hand, thy weeping and discon­solate Mother stand at the foot of thy Cross, and af­flicting thy departing Soul, with the sight of thy grief and disconsolate condition thou leavest her in; and last of all, that thou shouldst be abandoned on all hands, and not so much as thy lifes last breath spared. O invincible Courage! O admirable Fortitude! which neither life, nor death, nor things present, nor things to come, nor fears, nor torments, could so far alter thy resolution, but still thou submittest in these words, Thy will be done, Lord! and not my own.

But alas! Is there no remedy after all this sub­mission, for thy blessed Soul? Must thou alone drink of this sower Cup? Must thou alone tread the wine­press of sowre Grapes? Alas dearest Saviour! where is then the God of Elias? Are his bowels of mercy turn'd into Adamant? are the Eternal Springs of Le­banon dryed up? are the Heavens become Iron, that no drops of dew can distill down to refresh thy lan­guishing Soul? Where are now thy old friends, which were so much delighted with thy Glory upon mount Tabor; who lately sung so cheerfully at thy entering into Hierusalem; yea, even solemnly protested their readiness to die with thee! Alas! they are all a­sleep! so fast, so dead asleep, that neither shame nor [Page 186]compassion on their Masters disconsolate condition, can make them to say so much as one short prayer for themselves.

Oh weak condition of humane friendship! unhap­py, and miserably deluded are all they who build on so false a Bottom! How far better is it to trust in God then Man? O ill requited Master! is this the fruit of all thy Teachings? Is this thy reward for all thy Benefits? Is this the Profit of all thy Wonders thou hast made amongst them? What though Judas were tempted with the glittering of Silver, which dazels the eyes of all the World; yet what Plea have thy be­loved Disciples to excuse their dulness, their cold­ness, and want of Love? Though Earth fail, Heaven should be kind.

And now, O my Soul! thou who hast been witness to this great Spectacle; What? shall not this strange and incomparable love of thy Saviour, make thee wholly to go out of thy self? Look [if thou are able to look at so glorious a Light, or judge of so infinite charity] and tell me what thou canst do? Canst thou love any thing after this, but thy Lord Jesus? Canst thou affect any thing but thy dear Saviour? Can thy greatest troubles or hardships distaste thee? Thou complainest indeed of thy Sufferings, but weigh them in this Ballance; and alas! how little cause hast thou to complain?

Ah! what poor flea-bitings are those which thou art afflicted with, in respect of the Torments thy Sa­viour underwent for thee? whom thou thus seest to have traced out the way with his own gored footsteps; having his Head Crown'd with Thorns, his shoulders [Page 187]charg'd with the infamous Burden of the Cross; his ears pierced with Reproachful speeches, and his eyes floating with Tears; in which condition he ascended mount Calvary, and invites thee to follow him.

Were they not thy sins (O my Soul!) which were the Nails that fastned his Hands, and his Feet? were they not the Spears which pierced his sacred side? Look upon thy Hypocrisie, which was the kiss that betrayed him? Behold thy Back-slidings, which made his Soul weary to death, which caused the with­drawment of his Fathers love, and made him cry out that he was forsaken? Hath Christ endured so much for thee, and wilt thou not suffer a little for him? Ah happy is that Affliction which is raised from thy Sa­viours love! How rich shall we be, when we have him for our Portion? yea, how high, when we shall see a true contempt of the world under our feet?

Maist thou forbid (O blessed Jesus!) that I should go about any worldly Throne, which carries not thy Scepter, or that I should talk of Honours, when there is mention made of thy Holy Cross! Let all great­ness where thou art, not be baseness unto me; and let me mount up unto thee by those stairs of Humili­ty, whereby thou camest down to me. O let me kiss the paths of that Mount, which thou hast sprinkled with thy precious Bloud, and esteem that Cross a­bove all earthly things, which thou hast consecrated by thy cruel pains!

Alas! is it not a shameful thing that God should seek us, among the heats of his Love and Sufferings, and yet we cannot be found by him? Shall we not for­sake all the Disorders of a sensual life, which hinder [Page 188]the effect of his Grace? shall we not (with the Sa­maritan woman) forsake, and leave behind us our Pitcher, that we may return full of Jesus Christ? shall we not bid farewel to all those occasions which lead us to sin? O dear Saviour (the most pure of all Beauties!) since it is for thee that so many Champi­ons have peopled Deserts, and passed the stream of bitterness and sorrow, bearing their Crosses after thee, and (amongst the most cruel of dolours) have felt the sweetness of thy presence! shall I shed no Tears for those sins that pierced thee? shall Jesus car­ry so many Thorns upon his Head, and shall I have none in my heart?

Alas, my Soul! canst thou behold a Crown of Thorns grafted upon a man of sorrow? what Spe­ctacle alas, is this? no more a man, but a skin dis­poiled, and bloody, taken from the teeth of Tigers and Leopards! Every stroak made a wound, every wound a fountain of blood. O hideous Prodigies which took away from us the light of the Sun, and covered the Moon with a sorrowful darkness! Heaven wears mourning upon his Cross; all the Citizens of Heaven weep over his Torments. The Earth quakes, the Stones rend, the Sepulchres open, the Dead arise; and all to teach us [by insensible Creatures] the pitty we should take of his Sufferings!

And, in conclusion of all, what should we hence learn, but [imitating our blessed Saviour, who ha­ving sadness in his Soul even to death; yea, taking up a resolution and deprecation in the approaches there­of, cryed out, My God, my God, why hast thou for­saken me] willingly to submit to all those Sufferings [Page 189]he shall think fit to lay upon us. Neither to be any way fearful or solicitous, in what manner God will please to take us to him; or in the least manner to be troubled touching the place, hour, or manner of our Dissolution, since he that made us, best knows how to dispose of us as he please, who can give us a Cor­dial in our greatest fainting Fits; and therefore his will ought to be the rule of our Life, and Death, our Sufferings, and our Sorrows, since from him [who is all goodness of himself] we cannot expect any thing but the best.

Are we mortal, and shall we grieve to die? Shall we not gladly drink of that Cup, whereof our Savi­our hath begun? Death is unwelcom onely to those who have not mortified their desires and affections, here while they lived; why then should we have re­gret to leave so miserable a lise? Why should we be un­willing to bid adieu and quit this place, where we have endured so many Deaths, and which hath so long been the place of our sorrows?

O my God! what a vain fear then is that which startles me? what a sad Pensiveness which over-spreads me? Oh when, and where shall I take my flight un­to thee! Do not tell me (O dear Saviour!) there is a great Chaos between thee, and me, since thou hast already passed it; and wilt thou not then lift me up by thy mercy? I am here (as within the Deserts of Africa) in a burning world, the drought whereof makes it a habitation for Devils. O my God! I am tormented in this flame, until some Lazarus be found to dip the end of his finger in thy blood, to allay the burning of my thirst, and restore me into the bosome of a merciful God.

[Page 190]O bessed day! when we shall be free from sorrow, and suffering, but not from comfort, where we shal rest from our Labours, and perfectly injoy the most per­fect God; who, as he is love it self, will perfectly love us, yea love us for ever. O comfortable words! how sweet must they needs be to our ears? how re­freshing to our wearied Senses, and languid Spirits?

Ah, What smiles shall we then perceive in that face of Sorrows [and with whom we have here suffered] when he shall pronounce that joyful sentence, Come ye blessed of my Father; shal we then repent our Suffer­ings and Sorrows? are not the Tears of Repentance sweet unto us? This is that joy which was procured by sorrow. This is that Crown which was procured by the Cross. Jesus did weep, that our Tears might be washed away. Our Saviour bled, that we might not be wounded. O blessed Love! Oh, in what a frame will our Soul then be! who can express? who can conceive the infinite love, and unexpressible joy of so happy a Union, so sweet a Reconcilement! who can question the love, which he doth so sweetly taste? or doubt of that, vvhich vvith such joy he feeleth, vvhen vve shall be incircled in Eternity, and for ever praise him.