Sect. I. Of Modesty.

1. IT is now many years since an Address was made to the Gentry of this Nati­on, to perswade them to that Vertue, which would be both their Plea­sure and Reward. I cannot, I confess, boast any such Effect of that, as should much inspirit the hopes of a new Attemt; yet since we see in our proper secular Concerns, Defeats do may times animate no less then Success, I know not why in this more charitable Design I should sit down discouraged. Men usually raise not a siege [Page 2] upon the first repulse, but reinforce their Bat­teries, observe more curiously which are the most assailable accessible parts, and accordingly dispose their assault: It will then be no unreasonable imi­tation in the present case, if, after a succesless At­temt upon the more impregnable Masculine part of the Gentry, I now essay the Feminine, whose native Softness and Gentleness may render them less apt for that resistance of good Counsel, where­in too many Men place their Gallantry.

2. I presume those to whom that little Tract was at first design'd, will be so willing to relin­quish their Title, that I might without imputati­on of robbery, exchange my Patrons, and by a new Dedication supersede the labor of a new Book. And indeed, since what was there said was founded more on the distinction of Qualities than of Sex, there would not need many razures to render it as proper for the one as the other; and I shall take so much advantage of it, as to assure the female Gentry, that they may there find much of the Duty incumbent on them, in respect of that Rank and Condition they hold in the World: and therefore, tho I shall somtimes make some re­flexions on it; yet, as to the main, I shall think it the easiest course, as well for them as my self, to direct them thither.

3. But it may seem to have too much of the Pe­dant, to entertain new Scholars only with the cast or nauseated learning of the old; and when I re­member I write to Ladies, who use to think the [Page 3] newness of any thing a considerable Addition to its valu; I conceiv my self oblig'd aswell in civili­ty to their humor, as charity to their needs, to give them somthing which they may own as their pe­culiar. And to render it the more unalienable, I shall affix it to their Sex; and make it the Subject of my present inquisition, what in respect of that, are the proper and distinct Obligations, under which, by the assignment of God and Nature, they are placed.

4. That the Obligation to Moral & Christian Vertues is in it self universal, and not confin'd to any Sex or Person, is not to be denied: yet, as in human Constitutions there are often Precepts, which (tho not exclusive of any, do yet) more peculiarly and eminently level at som particular rank or order of Men; so in the laws of God and Nature, there appears the like distinction. That all-wise Creator, who hath put peculiar pro­prieties and inclinations into his Creatures, hath accordingly design'd their actuating and impro­ving them: and altho in mankind, which differs nor in species but in gender, the variety may seem less; yet there is still enough to found som di­versity, either in the kind or degree of duty. This sure is shadowed to us in that particular caution given to the Jews, not to confound the habit of the several Sexes, Deut. 22. 5. and yet more clear­ly evinced in the Precept which the Apostles ad­dress to women, 1 Tim. 2. and 1. Pet. 3. Nay, this is so granted a truth, that all Ages and Nations [Page 4] have made som distinction between masculine & feminine Vertues, Nature having not only given a distinction as to the beauties of their outward form, but also in their very mold and constitu­tion implanted peculiar aptnesses and proprie­ties of mind, which accordingly vary the mesure of decency; that being comely for the one Sex, which often is not (at least in the same degree) for the other. It will therefore be no absurd at­temt to decipher those excellencies, which are the genuine and proper ornaments of Women: which tho in som instances they may perhaps prove co­incident with those of Men; yet even those which are equally inclusive of both, by the divine com­mand may have som additional weight on the fe­male side, in respect of decency, fame, or som other (not despisable) consideration.

5. For the better directing our present inqui­sition, it will be most regular, first to inquire what those Vertues are which are universally necessary to Women in all Ages and circumstances of their lives: such which, like the first matter, are pre­requir'd for all forms; which, like a firm and so­lid Basis, must support all various events, all changes of their condition or relations. And se­condly, we shall consider them in those changes, track them through the several stages and periods of life, through those several states which create the most considerable mutations to them; and in each of those consider, what are the new and pro­portionate accessions of duty.

[Page 5] 6. As in the outward accommodations of life▪ the things of most daily and indispensible use de­serve the greatest valu; so in moral or divine En­dowments, the benefit of possessing is best me­sured by the misery of wanting them. This first rank therefore of female Vertues which we are to treat of, will have that to recommend them; they being so strictly necessary, that their absence is not only a privative ill, but also exposes to a deluge of all positive mischiefs consequent to that priva­tion.

7. This will be found true in all the severals we are to pass through, but in none more eminent­ly then in that we shall chuse to begin with, the Vertue of Modesty; which may be considered in a double notion, the one as it is opposed to bold­ness and indecency, the other to leightness and wantonness. In the first acception, Zeno has not ill defin'd it, to be the Science of decent motion, it being that which guides and regulates the whole behavior, checks and controles all rude exorbi­tancies, and is the great civilizer of conversations, It is indeed a vertu of a general influence; does not only ballast the mind with sober and humble thoughts of ones self, but also steers every part of the outward frame. It appears in the face in calm and meek looks, where it so impresses it self, that it seems thence to have acquir'd the name of shamefacedness. Certainly, (whatever the modern opinion is) there is nothing gives a greater luster to a feminine beauty: so that St. Paul seems, not ill [Page 6] to have consulted their concerns in that point, when he substitutes that as a suppletory ornament to the deckings of Gold & Pearl and costly Array, 1 Tim. 2. But I fear this now will be thought too antiquated a dress, and an Apostle be esteemed no competent Judg in this Science; which is now become so solemn a thing, that certainly no Aca­demy in the World can vie numbers with the Students of this Mystery. Yet when they have strein'd their art to the highest pitch; an innocent modesty, and native simplicity of Look, shall eclipse their glaring splendor, and triumph over their artificial handsomness: on the other side, let a Woman be decked with all the embellish­ments of Art, nay and care of Nature too, yet if boldness be to be read in her face, it blots all the lines of beauty, is like a cloud over the Sun, in­tercepts the view of all that was otherwise ami­able, and renders its blackness the more obser­vable, by being plac'd neer somwhat that was apt to attract the eyes.

8. But Modesty confines not its self to the face, she is there only in shadow and effigie; but is in life and motion in the words, whence she bani­shes all indecency and rudeness, all insolent vauntings and supercilious disdains, and what ever else may render a person troublesom, or ridiculous to the company. Nor does she only refine the language, but she tunes it too, modu­lates the tone and accent, admits no unhand­some earnestness or loudness of Discourse, [Page 7] the latter whereof was thought so undecent in Carneades (tho in his public Lectures) that the Gymnasiarch reproved him for it: and sure, if 'twere not allowable in a Philosopher in his School, 'twill less become a woman in ordinary converse; and if we consult Prov. 7. 11. and 9. we shall find loudness and clamor in women cou­pled with such other epithets, as will surely not much recommend it. A womans tongue should indeed be like the imaginary Music of the sphers, sweet and charming, but not to be heard at di­stance.

9. And as Modesty prescribes the manner, so it does also the mesure of speaking; restrains all excessive talkativeness, a fault incident to none but the bold; the monopolizing of discourse be­ing one of the greatest assumings imaginable, and so rude an imposing upon the company, that there can scarce be a greater indecency in conversation. This is ingeniously exprest by our divine Poet Herbert,

He that engrosses the talk, enforces silence upon the rest, & so is presumed to look on them only as his auditors & Pupils, whilst he magisteriously di­ctates to them: which gave occasion to Socrates to say, It is arrogance to speak all, and to be willing to hear nothing. It is indeed universally an insolent unbecoming thing, but most peculiarly so in a woman.

[Page 8] 10. The ancient Romans thought it so, much so▪ that they allowed not that sex to speak publicly, tho it were in their own necessary defence; insomuch that when Amesia stood forth to plead her own cause in the Senate, they lookt on it as so prodigious a thing; that they sent to consult the Oracle what it portended to the State: and tho these first severities were soon lost in the successes of that Empire, Valerius Maximus could find but two more, whose either necessity or impudence, perswaded them to repete this unhandsom attemt▪

11. And this great indecency of Loquacity in Women, I am willing to hope is the reason why that Sex is so generally charged with it; not that they are all guilty, but that when they are, it appears so unhandsom, as makes it the more emi­nent and remarkable. Whether it were from that ungracefulness of the thing, or from the propen­sion Women have to it, I shall not determin; but we find the Apostle very earnest in his cautions a­gainst it; 1 Cor. 14. 35. he expresly enjoins Wo­men to keep silence in the Church, where he affirms it a shame for them to speak: and tho this seems only restrain'd to the Ecclesiastical Assemblies, yet even so it reaches home to the gifted Women of our age, who take upon them to be Teachers; whereas he allowed them not to speak in the Church, no not in order to learning, tho a more modest design then that of teaching. But besides this, he has a more indefinit prescription of silence to Women, 1 Tim. 2. 11. Let Women learn in si­lence; [Page 9] and again, v. 12. to be in silence. The Apo­stle seems to ground the Phrase, not only on the [...]feriority of the woman in regard of the crea­ [...]ion and first sin, v. 13, 14. but also on the pre­sumtion that they needed instruction; towards which, silence has alwaies bin reckoned an indis­pensible qualification, the introductory precept in all Schools, as that wherein all attention is founded. If som women of our age think they have outgon that novice state the Apostle suppo­ses, and want no teaching; I must crave leave to believe, they want that very first Principle which should set them to learn, viz. the knowledg of their own ignorance: a science which so grows with study and consideration, that Socrates after a long life spent in pursuit of Wisdom, gave this as the sum of his learning, This only I know, that I know nothing. This proficiency seems much want­ing to our female Talker, who, in this, seem to confute the common maxim, and give what they have not, by making their ignorance visible to o­thers, tho it be undiscernable to themselves: and to such we may not unfitly apply the Sarcasin of Zeno to a talkative Youth; their ears are faln in­to their tongue.

12. But besides this assuming sort of talka­tiveness, there is another usually charged upon the Sex, a meer chatting, pratling humor, which maintains it self at the cost of their neighbors, and can never want supplies as long as there is any body within the reach of their observation. [Page 10] This I would fain hope is most the vice of th [...] vulgar sort of Women; the education of the No­bler setting them above those mean entertain­ments. Yet when 'tis remembred that St. Paul▪ 1 Tim. 5. 13. makes Tatling the effect of Idle­ness, it may not unreasonably be feared, that where there is most of the Cause, there will be som of the Effect. And indeed, it would puzzle one to conjecture, how that round of formal Vi­sits among Persons of Quality should be kept up without this: That their Visits should be only a dumb Shew, none will suspect among women; and when the unfashionable themes of Houswifery, Piety, &c. are excluded, there will not remain many Topics of Discourse, unless this be called into supply. And this indeed is a most inexhau­stible reserve, it having so many springs to feed it, that tis scarce possible it should fail. And when 'tis farther considered, how apt a minister it is to Envy, Spleen, Revenge, and other feminine Pas­sions, we cannot suppose it can be unacceptable where any of those bear sway. But I believe it is not more frequently introduc'd by any thing then the vanity of Wit, which has no where a more free and exorbitant range than in censuring and de­riding; nay, finds not only Exercise but Triumph too, vain Persons seldom considering the Infir­mities or Follies of others, without som Com­placencies, and assuming reflections on themselves; which how unagreeable it renders this liberty of talking to that Modesty we recommend, is ob­vious [Page 11] enough, and would God 'twere only oppo­ [...]t to that; but it is no less so to all the obligations of Justice and Charity also, which are scarce so frequently violated by any thing, as by this licen­ [...]iousness of the tongue.

13. There yet another vice of it, for which [...]he female Sex has bin generally accus'd, and that [...]s reveling of secrets; an infirmity presum'd so [...]cident to them, that Aristotle issaid tohave made [...]t one of the three things he solemnly repented of, that he had ever trusted a Secret with a Wo­man. But by how much the greater prejudice [...]hey lie under in this respect, the greater ought to be their caution to vindicate not only their Per­sons, but their Sex, from the imputation, which is indeed extreamly reprochful: this blasting hu­mor being a symptom of a loose, impotent soul, a kind of incontinence of the mind, that can re­tain nothing committed to it; but as if that also had its Diabetic passion, perpetually and almost insensibly evacuating all. And indeed however we are willing to appropriate this to the Sex, yet the fault is owing only to this ill constitution of the mind, which is oft-times no less visible in men; as on the contrary, those women who by reason and vertu have acquir'd a Solidity and Firmness of mind, are as sure repositories of a Secret, as the most masculine confident: and such I have no intent to involve in this charge, but rather, by pro­posing their example to the rest, shew that nature has put them under no fatal necessity of being [Page 12] thus impotent. A secret is no such unruly thing, but it may be kept in: they may take the Wise mans word for it, Ecclus. 19. 10. If thou hast heard a wordlet it die with thee, and be bold, it will not burst thee.

14. This is a piece of daring manliness, which they may affect without breach of Modesty; would God they would take it in exchange for that vi­rile Boldness, which is now too common among many even of the best Rank. Such a degenerous age do we now live in, that every thing seems in­verted, even Sexes; whilst men fall to the Effe­minacy and Niceness of women, and women take up the Confidence, the Boldness of men, and this too under the notion of good Breeding. A blush (tho formerly reputed the color of Vertu) is ac­counted worse manners then those things which ought to occasion it, and such as nothing but the simplicity of a Country Girl can excuse. But the infirmity for the most part proves very cor­rigible; a few weeks of the Town Discipine wears off that piece of Rusticity, and advances them to a modish Assurance. Nor is that design'd to terminate in it self, but it is to carry them on, till they arise to a perfect Metamorphosis, their Gesture, their Language, nay somtimes their Habit too being affectedly masculine; so that what Ta­citus speaks of Vitellius in relation to his being a Prince, we may apply to them and say, that If o­thers did not remember them to be women, themselves could easily forget it.

[Page 13] 15. Yet, were this affectation confin'd only to the more innocent indifferent things, 'twere more to­lerable; but alas it extends farther, and there are women who think they have not made a sufficient escape from their sex, 'till they have assumed the Vices of men too. A sober modest dialect is too effeminate for them: a blustring ranting stile is taken up, and (to shew them proficients in it) adorn'd with all the Oaths and Imprecations their memory or invention can supply; as if they meant to vindicate their sex from the imputation of Timerousness by daring God Almighty. 'Tis true indeed, an Oath sounds gratingly out of what­ever mouth, but out of a womans it hath such an uncouth harshness, that there is no noise on this side Hell can be more amazingly odious; yet this is a music this discordant age hath introduc'd, no former having I think ever heard it in places at all civiliz'd: so that the female swearers want that poor shadow of excuse the men pretend to, it having bin so far from customary, that the un­wontedness could not but force them to some in­dustry and pains, ere they could acquire the ha­bit, and set up for female Hectors; an essay, where­in they have been very kind to the masculine, by shewing the world there can be somthing worse.

16. 'Tis said there want not some who com­pleat the demonstration by the other parallel qua­lity of Drinking also; a vice detestable in all, but prodigious in women, who put a double vio­lence upon their nature, the one in the intempe­rance, [Page 14] the other in the immodesty; and tho they may take their immediate copy from men, yet (to the praise of their proficiency) they outdo their Exemplar and draw near the original: nothing human being so much beast as a drunken woman. This is evident enough if we look only on the meer surface of the crime; but if we dive far­ther into its inferences and adherencies, the assir­mation is yet more irrefragable. She who is first a prostitute to Wine, will soon be to Lust also; she has dismist her Guards, discarded all the sugge­stions of reason, as well as Grace, and is at the mercy of any, of every assailant. And when we consider how much fuller the world is of Amnons then Josephs, it will not be hard to guess the fate of that womans Chastity, which has no other bot­tom then that of mens. So that unless her vice secure her virtue, and the loathsomness of the one prevent attemts on the other; 'tis scarce imaginable a woman that loses her Sobriety should keep her honesty: so that indeed I might more properly have made this reflection when I come to speak of Modesty in the second notion of it, as it is oppos'd to Lightness and Wantonness, but it falls not much amiss now, to be the intro­duction to it.

17. And if we consider Modesty in this sense, we shall find it the most indispensible requisite of a woman; a thing so essential and natural to the sex, that every the least declination from it, is a proportionable receding from Womanhood, bu [...] [Page 15] the total abandoning it ranks them among Brutes, nay sets them as far beneath those, as an acquir'd vileness is below a native. I need make no col­lection of the verdicts either of the Philosophers or Divines in the case, it being so much an instinct of nature, that tho too many make a shift to sup­press it in themselves, yet they cannot so darken the notion in others, but that an Impudent woma [...] is lookt on as a kind of Monster; a thing diverted and distorted from its proper form. That there is indeed a strange repugnancy to nature, needs no other evidence then the strugling, and difficul­ty in the first violations of Modesty, which always begin with regrets and blushes, and require a great deal of Self-denial, much of vicious Forti­tude, to encounter with the recoilings and up­braidings of their own minds.

18. I make no doubt but this age has arriv'd to as compendious arts of this kind, as industrious vice can suggest, and we have but too many in­stances of early proficients in this learning; yet I dare appeal even to the forwardest of them, whe­ther at first they could not with more ease have kept their vertu then lost it. Certainly such are the Horrors and Shames that precede those first Guilts, that they must commit a rape upon them­selves (force their own reluctancies and aver­sions) before they can become willing prostitutes to others. This their Seducers seem well to un­derstand, and upon that score are at the pains of so many preparatory courtings, such expence of [Page 16] presents too; as if this were so uncouth a crime, that there were no hope to introduce it but by a confederacy of some more familiar vices, their Pride or Covetousness.

19. The best way therefore to countermine those Stratagems of men, is for women to be sus­piciously vigilant even of the first approches. He that means to defend a Fort, must not aban­don the Outworks, and she that will secure her Chastity, must never let it come to too close a siege, but repass the very first and most remote in­sinuations of a temter. Therefore when we speak of modesty in our present notion of it, we are not to oppose it only to the grosser act of Incontinent­cy, but to all those misbehaviors, which either discover or may create an inclination to it; of which sort is all lightness of carriage, wanton glances, obscene discourse; things that shew a woman so weary of her honor, that the next comer may reasonably expect a surrender, and conse­quently be invited to the Assault. Indeed they are such, that one would rather think them the result of many acts, then meerly the Prologue to one, and yet nothing but a custom of private sin, could supply impudence enough to do what is so publicly scandalous; and where this is found in those of any considerable age, charity it self can scarce pass a milder censure. Yet possibly in those of the youngest sort, they may at first be taken up (as their dress is) meerly in imitation of others, embrac'd implicitly upon the autority [Page 17] of those, whose examples govern the modes. When a poor girle, who has still so much of the child as to admire every thing that glitters, sees these things used by the gay people of the world, 'tis no wonder if she take these as part of their accomplishments, and, upon peril of that formida­ble calamity of being unfashionable, conform to them: Which yet does not so much extenuate the guilt of those few seduced persons, as it aggravats that of the Seducers, and attests the strange cor­ruption of the age, that those things which the less hardned sort of prostitutes were formerly asha­med of, should now pass into the frequency and a­vowedness of a fashion, become a part of Discipline and Institution of youth; as if vice now disdain'd to have any punies in its school, and therefore by a preposterous anticipation, makes its pupils begin where they were wont to end, initiates them at first into that shamelesness, which was wont to be the product only of a long habit: what the end will be of these Piqueerers in impudence, who thus put their vertu on the forlorn hope, is easie to divine. Yet is not this the only state of danger: they who keep their ranks, and tho they do not provoke assaults, yet stay to receive them, may be far enough from safety. She that lends a patient ear to the praises of her Wit or Beauty, intends at first perhaps only to gratify her vani­ty; but when she is once charm'd with that Si­rens song, bewitcht with that Flattery, she insen­sibly declines to a kindnefs for that person that [Page 18] values her so much▪ and when that spark shall be blow'd up by perpetual remonstrances of Pas­sion, and perhaps little Romantique artifices of pretending to dye for her, with a thousand other tricks, which lust can suggest, 'twill like the Naptha Naturalists speak of, in a moment grow to an unquenchable flame, to the ruine both of her vertu and honor.

20. Let no woman therefore presume upon the innocence of her first intentions; she may as well upon confidence of a sound constitution, en­ter a pest-house and converse with the plague, whose contagion does not more subtily insinuate it self, then this sort of temtation. And as in that case she would not stay to define what were the critical distance, at which she might approch with safty, but would run as far from it as she could; so in this, it no less concerns her, to remove her self from the possibility of danger, and (how un­fashionable soever it be) to put on such a severe Modesty, that her very looks should guard her, and discourage the most impudent assailant. 'Tis said of Philopemen, that the Lacedemonians find­ing it their interest to corrupt him with mony, they were yet so possest with the reverence of his vertues, that none durst undertake to attaque him; and sure 'twere not impossible for women to arrive at the same security: such an autority there is in Vertu, that where 'tis eminent, 'tis apt to controle all loose desires, and he must not be only lustful but sacrilegious, that attemts to vio­late such a Sanctuary.

[Page 19] 21. But perhaps that sex may fear, that by putting on such a Strictness, they shall lose the glory of their Beauty, which is now chiefly esti­mated by the number of those who court and a­dore them. To this in the first place I must say, that they are miserable Trophies to Beauty that must be built on the ruins of vertu and honor; and she that to boast the length of her hair should hang her self in it, would but act the same folly in a lower instance.

22. But then secondly, 'tis a great mistake to think their Beauty shall be the less prized, since 'tis incident to mans nature to esteem those things most that are at distance, whereas an easie and cheap descent begets contemt. So long as they govern themselves by the exact rules of Prudence and Modesty, their lustre is like the Meridian Sun in its clearness, which tho less approchable, is counted more glorious; but when they decline fromthose, they are like thatSun in a cloud, which tho safelier gazed on, is not half so bright. But besides these collateral advantages, 'tis certain that Modesty gives an immediat and direct im­provement to Beauty; for tho men for their own vicious ends wish them sever'd, yet they cannot but think they are the most amiable when united, and you shall hear them often commend the aspect of that Modesty, which they would fain circum­vent.

23. But in the 3d. place, there is nothing but such a Reservedness that can indeed make their Beau­ty [Page 20] triumphant. Parly and conquest are the most distant things; and she that descends to treat with an assailant, whatever he may tell her of his being her captive, 'tis but in order to the making her his; which when she once is, there is no state of servitude half so wretched, nothing in the world being so slavishly abject as a prostitute woman. For besides all the interest of another life which she basely resigns, the sacrifices all that is valuable in this: her reputation she puts wholy in his power that has debauched her, and which is worse her reformation too. If she should have a mind to return to vertu, she dares not for fear he should divulge her former strayings from it: so that, like Catiline, she is engag'd to future evils to secure the past. Yea she subjects her self not only to his lust, but to all his humors and fancies, nay even to all those who have bin instrumental to their priva­cies, none of them all being to be displeas'd for fear of blabbing: and when 'tis remembred, what a sort of cattel they are, which are the engines in such affairs, There can fearce be any thing more deplorable then to be within their lash. 'Tis true indeed, some have found a way to cure this uneasi­ness by being their own delators, not only con­fessing but boasting their crime, and by an impu­dent owning prevent all accusations: yet even this serves but to attest the intolerableness of the for­mer condition, when this worst of mischiefs is chose as a rescue. Their impatience of being al­waies in awe, makes them take up that resolution [Page 21] for infamy, which Cesar did for death, who said 'twas better to dye once then to be alwaies in fear. And tho this desperate remedy may cure the fear, yet it ascertains the reproch; for whereas in the impeachment of others there is place for doubt, and charity may promt some to disbelieve it, yet when the fact is justified by the offender, the evidence is uncontrolable, and withall doubles the infamy. For, besides that which adheres to the crime there is a distinct portion due to the impu­dence; yet like the Scorpion it must cure its own sting, and tho it increases the obloquy, yet it dead­ens the sence of it.

24. But when they have thus steel'd their forheads against all impressions of Shame, they are still liable to many other painful effects of their sin. What fears of being abandoned, what jealousies of rivals, do often torture them? And indeed not without ground: for they cannot but know, that the same humor of variety which en­gaged their Paramors in their love, may do the same for another, and another, and so on; it being as possible to grasp the air, as to confine a wan­dring lust. Besides, what anxious apprehensions have they of the approch of age, which they are sure will render them loathed and despicable, as also of all intermedial decaies of Beauty? How critically do they examine their glass? and every wrinkle that it represents in their face, be­comes a deep gash in the heart. But if they have at any time the lesure (or indeed the courage) to [Page 22] look inward the view is yet more dreadful, a de­form'd foul, spoild of its innocence, and rendred almost as brutish as the sin it hath consented to. But tho it be in some respects like the beast that pe­risheth, it is not, it cannot be, in that which would most avail it; an endless being it cannot lose, nor can it expect any thing from that preeminence of its nature, but an infinity of misery. This is such an amazing contemplation, as, methinks, were it insisted on, should allay the hottest blood; no impure flames being so fierce as to contest with those of unquenchable fire. It is therefore tho a very impious, yet no unskilful artifice of those, who would vitiate women in their manners, to corrupt them in their Principles, and by extin­guishing all hopes or fears of another World, perswade them to immerse boldly into all the abo­minations of this. 'Tis said, this is now an art of wooing, the modern preludium to the basest proposals: it seems this age dares not trust only to the former waies of seducement, fears there will not be women enough that will forget the in­terests of another World; and therefore is fain to set up a new party of others to disbelieve it. And I fear that design has bin too prosperous; many women are so much more concerned for their bodies then their souls, that they are contented the one should be elevated upon the depression and debasement of the other; and whilst with a vain transport, they can hear their outward form applauded as Angelical, or Divine, [Page 23] they can very tamely endure to have their better part vilified and despised, defin'd to be only a puff of air in their nostrils, which will scatter with their expiring breath, or, in the Atheist's phrase, Wisd-6. 6. vanish as the soft air. Whereas they should consider, that they who preach this doctrin to them, design it only to infer a pernicious use. 'Tis a maxim in Politics, that those counsels are suspiciously to be scan'd, which carry in their front the advisers interest; which certainly is never more visible then in this case, he that once gains this point, never needing to contest for all the rest. For he that can perswade a woman out of her soul, will soon command her body, and then what was at first his interest, becomes hers at last; and her wishes of the mortality of her soul, are much stronger then 'tis possible her belief of it could be: which confirms abundantly my affir­mation of the servile, wretched condition of such a person. For if we judg that a very severe slavery, which makes people desirous to resign a temporal being, what shall we think of that which provokes them to renounce an eternal?

25. And now by this gradation of mischiefs we may judg of the deplorable state of those who have abandoned their Vertu; wherein I doubt not the consciences of many cannot only attest, but much improve the description; and all I shall say to such, is, only to consult that bosom monitor, which till they do all Homilies will be insignifi­cant. My design was not therefore to tell them [Page 24] what they too well feel, but only to point out their wracks as warnings others.

26. Let those therefore who are yet un­tainted, and by being so, have their judgments clear and unbiast, consider soberly the misery of the other condition, and that not only to ap­plaud, but secure their own; and when ever the outward pomps and gaudy splendors of a vitiated woman seem, like that of Cresus, to boast their happiness, let them look through that Fallacy, and answer with Solon, that those only are happy who are so at their end. Their most exquisit deckings are but like the garlands on a beast design'd for Sa­crifice; their richest gems are but the chains, not of their ornament but slavery; and their gor­geous apparel, like that of Herod, covers perhaps a putrid body, (for even that doth not seldom prove their fate) or however, a more putrid soul. They who can thus consider them, will avoid one great snare; for 'tis not alwaies so much the lust of the flesh, as that of the eyes which betrays a woman. 'Tis the known infir­mity of the Sex, to love gaiety, and a splendid appearance, which renders all temtations of that sort so connatural to them, that those who are not arrived to a more sober estimate of things, will scarce be secure. It will therefore be necessary for them to regulate their opinions, and reduce all such things to their just valu, and then they will appear so trifling, that they can never main­tain any competition with the more solid interests [Page 25] of Vertu and Honor. For tho those terms seem in this loose age to be exploded; yet where the things are visible they extort a secret veneration, even from those who think it their concern pub­licly to deride them: whereas on the other side a defection from them exposes to all the contemt imaginable, renders them despis'd even by those who betraid them to it, leaves a perpetual blot upon their Names, and their Family. For in the character of a woman, let Wit and Beauty, and all female accomplishments stand in the front; yet if wantonness bring up the rear, the Satyr soon de­vours the Panegyric, and (as in an Echo) the last words only will reverberate, and her vice will be remembred when all the rest will be forgot. But I need not declame upon this theme; the Son of Syraeh has don ittomy hand, in many passages, but especially Ecclus. 23. to which I refer the reader.

32, What hath bin already said, is I suppose, sufficient to convince every woman how much it is her concern to keep her self strictly within the bounds of Modesty and Vertu. In order to which, there is nothing more important then a judicious choice of their Company; I mean not only for men, but women also: vice is contagious, and this especially has that worst quality of the Plague, that 'tis malicious, and would infect others. A woman that knows her self scandalous, thinks she is reprocht by the vertu of another, looks on her as one that is made to reprove her waies, as it is, Wisd. 2. 14. and therefore in her own defence [Page 26] strives to level the inequality, not by reforming her felf, (that she thinks too hard a task) but by corrupting the other. To this end, such are wil­ling to screw themselves into an acquaintance, will be officiously kind, and by all arts of condescen­tion and obliging, endeavor to ensnare a woman of reputation into their intimacy. And if they succeed, if they can but once entangle her into that cobweb-friendship; they then, spider-like, infuse their venom, never leave their vile insinua­tions till they have poisoned and ruined her. But and if on the other side they meet with one of too much sagacity to be so entrapped; if they can­not taint her Innocence, they will endeavor to blast her Fame; represent her to the World to be what they would have made her; that is in the Psalmists phrase; such a one as themselves, Psal. 50. 24. so that there is no conversing with them, but with a manifest peril either of Vertu or Honor, which should methinks be a sufficient disswasive. 'Tis true, 'tis not alwaies in ones power to shun the meeting with such persons, they are too nu­merous, and too intruding to be totally avoided; unless, as St. Paul says, 1 Cor. 5. 10. one should go out of the World. But all voluntary converse sup­poses a choice, and therefore every body that will may refrain that, may keep on the utmost frontiers of civility, without ever suffering any approach towards intimacy and familiarity.

33. And sure were this distance duly observed, it might be of excellentuse, a kind of lay Excom­munication, [Page 27] which might come very seasonably to supply the want of the Ecclesiastic now out-dated. And this seems very wel to agree with the sense of Solon, the wise Athenian Law-giver, who, besides that he shut the Temple-doors against them, inter­dicted them the sacred Assemblies; made it one of his laws, that an Adulteress should not be permit­ted to wear any ornaments, that so they might in their dress carry the note of their infamy. Should we have the like distinction observed, I sear many of our gaiest birds would be unplumed, and tho the same be not now an expedient practicable; yet the former is, and might be of very good use. For beside that already mentioned of secu­ring the innocent, it might perhaps have a good effect on the guilty, who could not but reflect with som shame on themselves, if they were thus singled out and discriminated; whereas whilst they are suffered to mix with the best Societies, (like hurt Deer in a herd) they flatter themselves they are undiscernable.

34. But indeed the advantage of this course is yet more extensive, and would reach the whole Sex, which now seems to lie under a general scan­dal, for the fault of particular persons. We know any considerable number of smutty ears casts a blackness on the whole field, which yet were they apart, would perhaps not fill a small corner of it; and in this uncharitable age, things are apt to be denominated not from the greater but worser part: whereas, were the precious se­vered [Page 28] from the vile, by som note of distinction, there might then a more certain estimate be made: and I cannot be so severe to womankind, as not to believe the scandulous part would then make but a small shew which now makes so great a noise.

35. Besides this I can suggest but one way more for women of honor to vindicate their Sex, & that is by making their own vertu as illustrious as they can; and by the bright shine of that draw off mens eyes from the worser prospect. And to this there is required not only innocence, but prudence; to abstain, as from all real evil, so from the appearance of it too, 1 Thess. 5. 22. not, by any doubtful or suspicious action, to give any umbrage for censure but as the Apostle saies in another case, 2 Cor. II. 11. to cut off occasion from them that desire occasion; to deny themselves the most innocent liberties, when any scandalous in­ference is like to be deduc'd from them. And tho perhaps no caution is enough to secure against the malicious, and the jealous; tho 'tis possible some black mouth may asperse them, yet they have still Plato's reserve, who being told of some who had defam'd him, 'tis no matter said he, I will live so that none shall believè them. If their lives be but such, that they may acquit themselves to the sober and unprejudiced, they have all the security can be aspir'd to in this world; the more evincing attestation they must attend from the unerring Tribunal hereafter; where there lyes a certain appeal for all injur'd persons who can calmly wait for it.

SECT. II. Of Meekness.

1. IN the next place we may rank Meekness as a necessary feminine Vertu; this even nature seems to teach, which abhors mon­strosities and disproportions, and therefore ha­ving allotted to women a more smooth and soft composition of body, infers thereby her intention, that the mind should correspond with it. For tho the adulterations of art, can represent in the same Face beauty inone position, and deformity in ano­ther, yet nature is more sincere, and never meant a serene and clear forhead, should be the frontis­piece to a cloudy tempestuous heart. 'Tis there­fore to be wisht they would take the admonition, and whilst they consult their glasses, whether to applaud or improve their outward form, they would cast one look inwards, and examine what symmetry is there held with a fair outside; whether any storm of passion darken and overcast their interior beauty, and use atleast an equal dilligence to rescu that; as they would to clear their face from any stain or blemish.

2. But it is not nature only which suggests this, but the God of nature too, Meekness being not only recommended to all as a Christian vertu, but particularly enjoin'd to women as a peculiar ac­complishment [Page 30] of their Sex, 1 Pet. 3. 4. where af­ter the mention of all the exquisit and costly deckings of art, this one ornament of a meeek and quiet spirit, is confronted to them, with this eminent attestation, that it is in the sight of God of great price, and therefore to all who will not en­ter dispute with God, and contest his judgment, it must be so too. Now tho Meekness be in it self a single entire vertu, yet it is diversifi'd, according to the several faculties of the soul, over which it has influence; so that there is a Meekness of Un­derstanding, a Meekness of the Will, and a Meek­ness of the Affections; all which must concur to make up the Meek and quiet spirit.

3. And first for the Meekness of the Under­standing, it consists in a pliableness to conviction, and is directly opposite to that sullen adherence observable in too many; who judg of tenets not by their conformity to truth and reason, but to their prepossessions and tenaciously retain'd opi­nions, only because they (or some in whom they confide) have once own'd them; and certainly such a temper is of all others the most obstructive to Wisdom. This puts them upon the chance of a Lottery, and what they first happen to draw, de­termines them meerly upon the priviledg of its precedency, so that had Mahomet first seiz'd them, his tenure would have bin as indeses [...]ble, as Christs now. How great the force of such prejudices are, we may see by the oppositions it raisd against Christian doctrine in gross at its first promulga­tion; [Page 31] the Jews blind Zeal for the Traditions of their Fathers, engaging them in the murder even of that very Messias whom those Traditions had taught them to expect, and after in the persecu­tion of that doctrine which his Resurrection had so irrefragably attested. And to justifie the propriety of this observation, to those I now write to, 'tis expresly affirm'd, Acts. 1. 3. 50. That they made use of the zeal of the female Proselites for that purpose. The Jews stirred up the devout and honorable women, and rais'd a persecution a­gainst Paul and Barnabas. So that 'tis no unseason­able advice to such, to be sure they see well their way before they run too fierce a carriere in it; o­therwise the greatest heat without light, does but resemble that of the bottomless pit, where flames and darkness do at once cohabit.

4. But whilst I decry this prejudicate stif­ness, I intend not to plead for its contrary ex­treme, and [...]ecommend a too easie flexibility; which is a temper of equal, if not more ill conse­quence then the former. The adhering to one opi­nion can expose but to one error, but a mind that lies open to the effluxes of all new tenets, may successively entertain a whole ocean of delusions; and to be thus yielding, is not a Meekness but Ser­vileness of Understanding. Indeed 'tis so great a weakness of mind, that the Apostle sinks it som­what below the impotence of women, and resem­bles it to that of children, Eph. 4. 14. yet it seems the folly of some women had levell [...]d them with [Page 32] children in this matter, for the same Apostle takes notice of such, to whom as he gives the Epithet of silly, so the latter part of the Character speaks them incorrigibly so, ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledg of the truth, 1 Tim. 3. 6. a description which if we compare with our times, we must think prophetic. For how many instances hath this age given us of women so led captive; who being either affected with the novelty, or se­duced by the pretended zeal of a new teacher, have given up their understanding to him: and for a while this strong man has kept possession, but when a stronger then he hath come it has fared as with him in the Gospel, a louder zeal or a new­er doctrine soon divides his spoils; and that by force of the very same principle, on which he set up, which within a while undermines the latter also, and so successively; till the poor Proselite has bin huried through all the mazes of wild er­ror, and at last perhaps (like a palate distracted by too much variety) she fixes upon that which at first she most decried. This has bin eventually true in some, who setting out in the fiercest dete­station of Popery, have wandred so long like the blinded Syrians, 2 King. 6. 20. that they have at last found themselves in the midst of Samaria; by an insensible circular motion bin brought about to that Religion, from which alone they designed to fly. So little do itching ears know whether they may be carried: and indeed the ear when infected with that prurienthumor▪ may▪ vie Mis­chiefs [Page 33] with the tongue, which St. James tells us, Chap. 3. 15. is (tho a little member) a world of iniquity.

5. 'Tis therefore the most important concern of all, to fortifie that so assailable part; but 'tis especially so of women, not only in respect of that natural imbecillity, which renders them liable to seducement, but also because the opinion of their being so, makes them particularly aim'd at by se­ducers. For as he who is to put off adulterated wares, will chuse the most unwary chapmen, so these Sophisticators of Divinity, desire the most un­discerning Auditors. And truly that so many of that Sex are so, I do not so much impute to any natural defect, as to the loose notions they have of Religi­on, of which they have perhaps some general con­fused apprehensions, but have so little penetrated the depth of it, that they know not why they are Christians, rather then Turks, why of the Church of England, rather then of that of Rome, or Gene­va. And while they are thus unfixt, and have no bet­ter principle then custom and compliance; they have nothing to answer to any the grossest de­ceit that can be obtruded upon them, which for ought they know or have consider'd, may be as true as any thing they formerly profest. Now when any one in this condition shall be assaulted, not only by the repeated importunities of false teachers, but also by ingeminated threatnings of hell and damnation, she is like one awaked by the out [...]ry of fire, and in that amaze will be apt to [Page 34] run where-ever the first discoverer of her danger shall lead her.

6. I shall therefore most earnestly recommend it as the best Antidote against the poison of novel doctrins, to examin well the grounds of the old; for want of this it is that our Church has bin ex­posed to so many frivolous cavils, it being too in­cident to the perverse Pride ofhumane nature, to speak evil of things we understand not. And had our she-zealots first consulted som sober guides, and from them understood upon what grounds the Practice as well as Doctrin of our Church was founded, they could not so easily have bin carried away by every wind of doctrine, as the Apostle phrases it, Eph. 4. 14.

7. Indeed this is no more then common ju­stice exacts, which forbids the condemning even the vilest malefactor unheard, (& unheard and not understood, are in this case terms equivalent) yet sure they owe somthing more to that Church from whose ministry themselves must confess to have derived their Christianity, in whose bosom they have bin cherisht, and consequently may plead a mothers right in them; so that unless possession, which fortifies Civil rights, destroy the Ecclesi­astic; she may challenge besides that natural ju­stice, (which is the common due of humanity) a parental respect and reverence, a debt which is sure very ill answered by those, who cast off her obedience before they have at all considered what it is she commands. And if the abdicating a child [Page 35] be a thing so unnatural, as needs som very impor­tant cause to justifie it; the renouncing of a Pa­rent must require a reason as far transcending that, as the guilt does, if it be causless; and such it must inevitably be in all, who for want of due ex­amination, suffer themselves to be led intoground­less prejudices and disgusts.

8. To prevent that guilt, and a multitude of others which spring from it; I must again repeat my Proposal, that women of Quality (who are presumed to want neither Parts nor lesure for it) would a little look into the inside of the Religion they profess; if it be a true one, 'twill bear the inspection, truth never shunning the light; if it be not, the discovery cannot be too early. And indeed among the many remarkable impresses of truth our Church bears, this is one, that she does not blindfold her Proselites, leaves them the use of their discerning Faculty, and does not by ob­truding upon them an implicit belief, force them to lay down their Reason when they take up their Faith. And now why should not Ladies spend a few of their many idle hours in this inquisition, I mean not to embark them in a maze of contro­versies, but only to discern those plain grounds of Truth on which our Church builds; which if well digested, will prove a better amulet against delu­sion then the reading whole Tomes of Disputations, more apt to distract then fortify their understand­ings. And had they thus don, had their minds bin ballasted by sober principles, so many of them [Page 36] had never made up the triumphs of so many and so various seducers. And tho to such this adver­tisement may come too late (like assistance after a defeat) yet it may be a seasonable caution to o­thers; and to those I offer it, as that very temper wherein consists that rational Meekness of the un­derstanding I would recommend to them, which is equally violated by a blind obstinacy, or as blind a flexibility.

9. A second sort of Meekness is that of the Will, which lies in its just subordination, and sub­mission to a more supream Autority, which in Di­vine things is the Will of God; in Natural or Moral right Reason; and in human Constitutions the command of Superiors: and so long as the Will governs it self by these in their respective Orders, it transgresses not the Meekness requir'd of it. But experience attests, that the Will is now in its depravation an imperions Faculty, apt to cast off that subjection to which it was de­sign'd; and act independently from those motives which should influence it. This God knows is too common in all Ages, all Conditions, and Sexes: but the Feminine lies more especially under an ill name for it. Whether that have grown from the low opinion conceived of their Reason, less able to maintain its Empire, or from the multipli [...]d habi­tual instances themselves have given of unruly Wills, I shall not undertake to determin; but either way 'tis, I am sure, so great a reproch, as they should be very industrious to wipe off. And [Page 37] truly I know nothing more incentive to that en­deavor, then the having a right estimate of the Happiness as well as Vertu of a governable Will. How calmly do those glide through all (even the roughest) events, that can but master that stub­born Faculty? A will resign'd to God's, how does it enervate and enfeeble any calamity? Nay in­deed it triumphs over it, and by that conjunction with him that ordains it, may be said to command even what it suffers. 'Twas a Philosophical Maxim, that a Wise moral man could not be in­jured, could not be miserable. But sure 'tis much more true of him who has that divine Wisdom of Christian resignation, that twists and inwraps all his choices with God's, and is neither at the pains nor hazard of his own elections; but is secure, that unless Omniscience can be deceived, or Om­nipotence defeated, he shall have what is really best for him.

10. Proportionable (tho not equal) to this, is the happiness of a Will regulated by Rea­son in things within its Sphere: 'tis the dignity of humane Nature, and that which distinguishes it from that of Beasts. Yea, even those grow more contemtible in their kinds, the farther they are removed from it. The stupid sturdiness of an Asse has render'd it Proverbial for folly, when the tractableness of other Animals has temted som to list them among rationals. Besides, reason af­fords somthing of a Basis and Foundation for the Will to bottom on. He that governs himself by [Page 38] reason (that being still the same) will act equally and consonant to himself; but he that does a thing this moment, only because he will, may the next have as weighty an argument to do somthing quite contrary; and so may spend his whole time in unravelling his Spiders webs, as the Prophet rightly calls the vain designs of such brutish men, Isa. 59. 5. Not to speak of those recoilings and upbraidings of the rational faculties, which are the uneasie attendants of those who resist its more directadmonitions; there is nothing exposes to more secular ruins. An ungovernableWill is the most precipitous thing imaginable, and like the Devil in the Swine, hurries headlong to destructi­on, and yet deprives one of that poor reserve, that faint comfort of the miserable, Pitty; which will not be so much invited by the misery, as aver­ted by that wilfulness which caused it. Nay in­deed, so little can such persons expect the com­passion of others, that 'twill be hard for them to afford themselves their own: the consciousness that their calamities are but the issues of their own perverseness, being apt to dispose them more to hate then pitty. And this is no small accumu­lation of wretchedness, when a man suffers not only directly, but at the rebound too; reinflicts his miseries upon himselfby a grating reflection on his own madness. Yea, so great an aggrava­tion is it, that even Hell it self is enhaunced and compleated by it; all the torments there being edged and sharpned by the woful remembrance, that they might once have bin avoided.

[Page 39] 11. In the last place a Will duly submissive to lawfull Superiors, is not only an amiable thing in the eies of others, but exceedingly happy to ones self; 'tis the parent of peace, and order both public and private. A blessing so considerable, as is very cheaply bought with a little receding from ones own will or humor, whereas the con­trary temper is the spring and original of in­finit confusions, the grand incendiary which sets Kingdoms, Churches, Families, in combustion; a flat contradiction not only to the word, but even the works of God; a kind of Anticreative power, which reduces things to that Chaos from whenceGod drew them. Our age has given us too many and too pregnant instances of its mischie­vous effects, which may serve to enhaunce the va­lue of that governable malleable temper I now recommend. And as a Will thus resign'd to Rea­son and just Autority, is a felicity all rational na­tures should aspire to; so especially the feminine Sex, whose passions being naturally the more im­petuous, ought to be the more strictly guarded and kept under the severe discipline of Reason; for where 'tis otherwise, where a woman has no guid but her Will, and her Will is nothing but her Hu­mor, the event is sure to be fatal to her self, and of­ten to others also.

12. And the hazard of this renders that other restraint of the will, I mean that of obedience to Superiors, a very happy imposition, tho per­haps 'tis not alwaies thought so, for those who re­sist [Page 40] the government of Reason, are not very apt to submit to that of Autority. Yet sure God and na­ture do attest the particular expediency of this to women, by having placed that Sex in a degree of inferiority to the other. Nay farther 'tis obser­vable, that as there are but three states of life, through which they can regularly pass, viz. Vir­ginity, Marriage, and Widowhood, two of them are states of Subjection, the first to the parent, the second to the husband; and the third, as it is casual, whether ever they arrive to it or no, so if they do, we find it by God himself reckon'd as a condition the most desolate and deplorable. If I should say this happens upon that very score that they are left to their own guidance, the sad wracks of many would too much justifie the gloss; but however it evinces, that God sets not the same valu upon their being masterless, which some of them do, whilst he reckons them most miserable, when they are most at liberty.

13. And since Gods assignation has thus deter­mined subjection to be the womens lot, there needs no other argument of its fitness, or for their acqui­escence. Therefore when ever they oppose it, the contumacy flies higher then the immediat Superi­or, and reaches God himself. And I am apt to think there would not many of that timorous Sex dare so far, were it not for some false punctilioes of honor, which (like those among our Duellists) have imposed themselvs. These represent Meeknes and Submission as a silly sheepish quality unfit for wo­men [Page 41] of breeding and spirit: whilst an imperious obstinacy passes for nobleness and greatness of mind. But alas they are wofully mistaken in their notion of a great spirit, which consists in scorning to do unworthy and vile things, and cou­ragiously encountering the adverse events of life, not in spurning at duty, or seeking to pull them­selves from that Sphere where the divine Wisdom hath placed them. No sure, stubbornness is the mark only of a great stomac, not of a great mind; and the cruelty of a coward may as well denomi­nate him valiant, as the ungovernableness of a wo­man can speak her generous.

14. In this I presume I speak the common sense of all, for what value soever they put upon themselves, nothing renders them less acceptable to others; an imperious woman being a plague to her relatives, and a derision to strangers, yea and a torment to her self. Every the least contradiction (which a meek person would pass over insensibly) inflaming such an unruly tem­per, and transporting her to such extravagan­ces, as often produce very mischievous effects. On the other side if she be humor'd and complied with, that serves only to make her more insolent and intolerable; makes her humors grow to such a height, that she knows not her self what would please her, and yet expects that others should [...]: so that to such a one, we may apply what Hanni­bal said of Marcellus, that if he were vanquished; he never gave rest to himself, nor if he were victo­rious, [Page 42] to others. Certainly the uneasiness of a perverse spirit is so great, that could such come but to compare it with the calm and happy sereni­ty of Meekness and Obedience, there would need no other Lecture to commend them to their esteem or practice.

15. The last branch of Meekness is that of Affections, and consists in reducing the passions to a temper and calmness, not suffering them to make uproars within to disturb ones self, nor without to the disquieting of others, and to this regulation Meekness is generally subservient. Yet because the correcting of som particular passions are more immediatly assignable to other vertues, I shall insist only upon that, on which this has a more direct and peculiar influence, I mean Anger, a two edged passion, which whilst it deals it blows without, wounds yet more fattally within. The commotion and vexation which an angry man feels, is far more painful then any thing he can ordinarily inflict upon another: herein justify­ing the Epithet usually given to Anger, that it is a short madness, for who that were in his right wits, would incur a greater mischief to do a less. It is indeed so great a distemper of the mind, that he that is possest with it, is incompetent for any sober undertaking, and should as much be suspen­ded from acting, as one in a Phrensy or Lunacy. This was the judgment and practice too of Plato, who going to chastise a servant, and finding him­self grow angry, stopt his correction, a friend [Page 43] coming in and asking what he was doing, punish­ing replies he, an angry man, as thinking himself unfit to discipline another, till he had subdued his own passion. Another time his slave having offen­ded him, I would beat thee, saies he, but that I am angry. It were endless indeed to recite the black Epithets given by all Moralists to this vice. It shall suffice to take the suffrage of the wisest of men, one that had acquainted himself to know mad­ness and folly, Ecl. 1. 17. and we find it his sen­tence, that anger rests in the bosom of fools, Ecl. 7. 11.

16. And what is thus universally unbecom­ing to human nature, cannot sure be less indecent for the gentler Sex: 'tis rather more so, eve­ry thing contracting so much more of deformity, by how much it recedes from its proper kind. Now nature hath befriended women with a more cool and temperat constitution, put less of fire and consequently of choler, in their compositions; so that their heats of that kind are adventitious and preternatural, rais'd often by fancy or pride, and so both look more unhandsomly, and have less of pretence to veil and cover them. Besides women have a native feebleness, unable to back and assert their angers with any effective force, which may admonish them 'tis never intended they should let loose to that passion, which nature seems by that very unability to have interdicted them. But when they do it, they render them­selves at once despised and abhor'd; nothing [Page 44] being more ridiculously hateful, then an impotent rage.

17. But as the most feeble insect may som­times disturb, tho not much hurt us, so there is one feminine weapon which as 'tis alwaies rea­dy, so proves often troublesom, I mean the tongue, which, tho in its loudest clamors can naturally in­vade nothing but the ear, yet even that is a mo­lestation. The barking of a dog, tho we are secure he cannot bite, is a grating unpleasant sound; and while women seek that way to vent their rage, they are but a sort of speaking brutes, and should consider whether that do not reflect more contemt upon themselves, then their most viru­lent reproches can fix upon others.

18. But some things have had the luck to ac­quire a formidableness no body knows how, and sure there is no greater instance of it, then in this case. A clamorous woman is lookt on, tho not with reverence, yet with much dread, and we of­ten find things don to prevent or appease her storms, which would be denied to the calm and ra­tional desires of a meeker person. And perhaps such successes have not bin a little accessory to the fomenting the humor; yet sure it gives them lit­tle cause of triumph, when they consider how odious it makes them, how unfit (yea intolerable) for human society; let them take the verdict of Solomon who declares it better to dwell Pro. 25. 24. in a corner of a house top, then with a brawling wo­man in a wide house. Nor does the son of Sirach [Page 45] speak less sharply tho more ironically, Ecl. 18. 16. A loud crying woman and a scold, shall be sought out to drive away the enemy. And tho he taxes the femi­nine vices impartially enough, yet there is scarce any of them which he more often and more se­verely brands then this of unquietness. It seems 'twas a thing generally lookt on, as very insuffera­ble; as appears by Socrates, who when he design'd to discipline himself to perfect patience and tole­rance, knew no better way of exercise, then to get a shrew to his wife, an excellence that may perhaps again recommend a woman, when we fall to an age of Philosophers; but at present 'twill be hard for any of our Xantippes to find a Socrates; and therefore that quality is as destructive to their in­terests in getting husbands, [...] it is to the hus­bands quiet when he is got. [...] I presume I need not declame farther against this fault, which I sup­pose cannot be frequent among that rank of wo­men to whom this tract is intended: for if neither moral nor divine Considerations have prevented it, yet probably civility and a gentile education hath: a scold being a creature to be lookt for on­ly in Stalls and Markets, not among persons o [...] quality. Yet if there be any that have descended to so sordid a practice, they have so far degraded themselves, that they are not to wonder if others substract that respect, which upon other accounts they might demand.

19. And to such I should recommend the u­sual method of Physic, which is to cure by revul­sion, [Page 46] let that sharp humor which so habitually flows to the tongue, be taught a little to recoile, and work inward; and instead of reviling others, discipline and correct themselves: let them up­braid their own madness, that to gratifie an im­potent, nay a most painful passion, have degene­rated from what their nature, their qualities, their education, design'd them. And if they can thus reverse their displesures, 'twill not only secure others from all their indecent assaults, but it will at last extinguish them: for anger is corrosive, and if it be kept only to feed upon its self, must be its own devourer; if it be permitted to fetch no forrage from without, nor to nourish it self with suspicions and surmises of others, nor to make any sallies at the tongue, it cannot long hold out.

20. And how much they will herein consult their interest and their reputation too, they may be taught by Solomon, who makes it the distinctive sign of a foolish woman to be clamorous, Prov. 9. 13. whereas when he gives the character of his Ex­cellent woman, he links Wisdom and Gentle­ness together, she openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law of kindness, Prov. 31. 26. If this verdict may be admitted (as sure it ought, whether we consider his wisdom, or dear bought experience in women) it will confute the com­mon plea of querulous spirits, who think to seem insensible of any the least provocation, is to ap­pear silly and stupid; tho truly if it were so, [Page 47] 'twould be full as eligible as to appear mad and raving, as they commonly do in the transport of their fury.

21. To conclude, Meekness is so amiable, so indearing a quality, and so peculiarly embellish­ing to women, that did they but all consider it with half the attention they do their more trivial exterior ornaments, 'twould certainly be taken up as the universal mode, in all the several varia­tions of it this Section has presented.

SECT. III. Of Compassion.

1. OF near Affinity to the Vertu of Meek­ness, is that of Mercy and Compassion, which indeed can scarce thrive in any place where the former hath not prepared the soil: Anger and Obstinacy being like that rough East-wind which brought the Egyptian Locusts, Exod. 10. 13. to eat up every green thing in the Land. A mind harrassed with its own impatiency, is not at lesure to observe, much less to condole the calamities of others. But as a calm and clear day befriends us with a more distinct Prospect of distant Objects; so when all is quiet and serene within us, we can then look about us, and discern what exigencies of others invite our pitty.

2. I need not say much to raise an estimate of this Vertu, since 'tis so essential to our Nature, so interwoven in the composition of Humanity, that we find in Scripture phrase, compassion is ge­nerally seated in the most inward sensible part of our frame, the bowels, so Col. 3. 12. Put on there­fore bowels of mercy; and Phil. 2. 1. Bowels and mercies. So that a cruel ruthless person unmans himself, and is by the common vote of mankind to be listed among brutes; nay, not among the better, but only the more hateful, noxious sort of them.

[Page 49] 3. But this is yet more unnatural in the female Sex, which being of softer mold, is more pliant and yielding to the impressions of pitty, and by the strength of fancy redoubles the horror of any sad object; yea so remarkable is this tenderness, that God, when he would most magnify his own compassion, illustrates it by that of women, as the highest human instance. Indeed such a pro­pension have women to commiseration, that they are usually taxed with an excess in it; so that any imprudent lenity is Proverbially called, A wo­manish Pitty, and therefore it may be thought an impertinence to exhort them to that which they can scarce avoid. But to this I answer; first, that in this degenerous age, 'tis no news to see people violate their instincts, as well as their duties, and be worfe then their nature inclines them; many sins being committed even against the grain, and with violence to constitution.

4. Yet secondly, 'tis not a meer melting of the eyes, or yerning of the bowels I design to recommend: Alas, their tears will not be drink to a thirsty soul, nor will shivering at his naked­ness cloth him, this is such an insignificant mer­cy as St. James describes, saying to a brother or sister, be ye warmed, be ye filled, but not giving them [...]hings needful to the body, c. 2. 16. Indeed, she that weeps over those distresses she will not relieve, might have bin fit to be enter'd in the list of the mourning women among the Jews and Heathens, who were hired to make up the Tragic pomp of [Page 50] Funerals with their mercenary sorrow, but had no real concern in that loss they seemed to bewail. 'Tis therefore a more active sort of Compassion to which I would invite them; and yet for method sake, I shall consider it under two distinct Heads, Giving, and Forgiving.

5. By Giving, in this place, I mean not a ge­neral liberality, (tho that prudently bounded, is an Excellence well becoming Persons of Fortune) but only such a Giving as terminates upon the needy, and is applied to succor their indigencies. To give to those from whom they may expect re­turns, may be a design, but at the best can be but generosity and frankness of humor. 'Tis only then mercy (as Christ Himself has defined it) when it is to those from whom they can hope for nothing again.

6. And in this Vertu women have in forme [...] Ages eminently excelled, yea so essential was it, that we find Solomon thought not their characte [...] compleat without it, but numbers it among the properties of his Vertuous Woman, Prov. 31. 20. She stretcheth forth her hand to the poor, & reach­eth her hand to the needy. And it is a little obser­vable, that after he has describ'd her Industry and Diligence for the acquiring of Wealth, this is se [...] in the front of her disbursments, as the principa [...] use she made of it; and precedes her providing Scarlet for her Houshold, or fine Linnen and Pur­ple for her self, v. 21, 22. The application is very obvions, and admonishes all that own the same [Page 51] Title of Vertuous Women, to prefer the necessi­ties of others before their own superfluities and delicacies. Nay, if they look farther; and con­sider who it is that is personated in the poor, that begs in every needy distrest suppliant, and that will finally own every act of mercy as don to him­self: methinks they should somtimes think fit to sacrifice even their most moderate enjoiments to their charity; be ashamed to serve themselves be­fore their Savior, or let him stand naked and hun­gry, whilst they are solacing with that which would relieve him.

7. But how then shall they answer it, who suf­fer him to be supplanted, not by their needs, but excesses; who have so devoted their hearts and purses to vanity and luxury, that they have nei­ther will nor power to succor the wants of others? How unequal and disproportionate is it, that those who study to fling away mony upon them­selves, cannot be temted by any opportunity and distress, to drop an alms to the poor? What a preposterous sight is it to see a Lady, whose gay Attire gives her the glittering of the Sun, yet have nothing of its other properties, never to cheer any drooping, languishing creature by her influence? 'Tis the counsel of the son of Sirach, not to give the poor any occasion to curse thee. Ecclus. 4. 5. But sure such persons do it, if the poor hap­pen not to have more Charity then they exem­plify to them. For when they shall find such ha [...]d hearts under such soft raiment, see them bestow [Page 52] so much upon the decking their own bodies, and do nothing towards the necessary support of theirs; 'tis a shrewd trial of their Meekness. Poverty is apt of it self to imbitter the spirit, and needs not such an additional temtation.

8. Nay farther, when a poor starving wretch shall look upon one of these gay creatures, and see that any one of the baubles, the loosest appen­dage of her dress; a fan, a busk, perhaps a black patch, bears a price that would warm his emty bowels; will he not have sharp incitations not on­ly to execrate her pride, and his own poverty, but consequently to repine at the unequal distribution of Providence, and add sin to his misery? The de­nial therefore of an alms may be a double cru­elty, to the soul as well as to the body. 'Tis said of Xenocrates, that a chased Bird flying to his bosom, he rescued it with much satisfaction, saying he had not betraid a suppliant; but this is in that case reverst, and in an higher instance; for what can be more the betraying of a suppliant, then instead of supplying his wants, to rob him of his innocence, and be his snare in lieu of his re­fuge? This is a consideration I wish more deeply imprest upon the women of this Age; and truly 'tis their concern it should be so; for since at the last day the inquest shall be so particular upon this very thing, 'tis but necessary they should ex­amin how they are fitted to pass that test.

9. Let them therefore keep a preparatory audit within their own brest, reflect upon the ex­pences [Page 53] of their vanity, what the delicacy of their food, what the richness and variety of their cloths, nay what the meer hypocrisies of their dress, in false hair, and complexion has cost them; to which they may also add the charge of their recreations and divertisements, those costly arts of chasing a­way that time, which they will one day wish to recal: let them I say compute all this, and then confront to it the account of their charity, and I much fear the latter will with many of them be comparatively as undiscernible, as Socrates found Alcibiades's lands in the Map of the whole world, be so perfectly overwhelm'd, that it will appear little in their own sight and nothing in Gods.

10. For if the poor Widows mite acquired a valu meerly from her poverty, that she had no more; by the rule of contraries we may conclude, how despicable the scanty oblations of the rich are in Gods account. If even their liberality who gave much, was outvied by a farthing, Mar. 12. 41- to what point of diminution must their nig­gardly offerings, who give little, be reduced? especially when they shall be compared with the numerous and costly sacrifices they make to pride and luxury; nay I wish some were not guilty of more then the disproportion, even the total omis­sion of charity, that in a multitude of Taylors bills cannot produce the account of one Garment for the poor, that amidst the delicacies of their own diet (nay perhaps of their dogs too) never or­der [...]d so much as the crumbs of their Table to any [Page 54] hungry Lazarus. But let all such remember, that there will come a time, when one of Tabitha's coats Acts 9. 39. will be of more valu then all their richest Wardrobes, tho they could num­ber Gowns with Lucullus's Cloaks, which the Roman Story reports to be 5000, and that when their luxurious fare shall only feast the worms, and render them passive in that Epicurism they acted before, they will wish they had made the bellies of the poor their refectory, and by feeding them nurished themselves to immortality.

11. Let this I say be seriously remember'd now, l [...]st hereafter they fall under the same ex­probrating remembrance with the rich man in the Gospel, Luke 16. 25. Remember that thou in thy life time receivedst thy good things, and Lazarus that which was evil, but now he is comforted and thou a [...]t tormented. A Text which St. Gregory professes was ever sounding in his ears, and made him look with suspicion and dread upon that grandeur to which he was advanced, as fearing it might be de­sign'd as his final reward. With what terror then may those look upon their present good things, who by ingrossingthem wholly to themselves, own them as their entire portion, and implicitly dis­claim their share of the future? For to that none must pretend, who receive their transitory goods under any other notion, then that of a Steward or Factor: as we may see in the parable of the Ta­lents, where those that had the reward of the five and ten Cities were not such as had consumed [Page 55] their Talents upon their own riot and excesses, but suchas had industriouslyemploied them accor­ding to the design of their Lord: and if it there fa­red so ill with the meer unprofitable servant, who had horded up his Talent, what shall become of those, who squander away theirs, and can give no account either of use or principal?

12. Were these considerations duly laid to heart, we might hope to see some of the primi­tive charity revive, when women of the highest rank converted their ornaments and costly deck­ings into clothing for the poor, and thought no retinue so desirable, so honorable as a train of Alms-folks: but I speak improperly, when I make the poor their attendants, for indeed they rather attended the poor, did not only order the supply of their wants, but were themselves their mini­sters, waited about their sick beds, drest their most loathsom ulcers, and descended to all the most servile offices about them.

13. But these were such heights, such trans­cendendies of mercy, as required a deeper foun­dation of humility then will now be often met with: yet let me take the occasion to say, that it may be a good managery of a charity to act (as far as they can) personally in it. For besides that it prevents some abuses and frauds, which depu­ted agents may somtimes be temted to; they pay God a double tribute in it, of their persons as well as their fortunes; next they▪ bring themselves into acquaintance with the poor, and by that means [Page 56] correct those contemts and nice disdains, which their own prosperity is too apt to create farther yet, they excite their own compassion, which be­ing a motion of the sensitive part of the mind, cannot be stirr'd so effectually by any thing, as by the presence of the object, the most pathetic tragical description of a distress, being not able to affect us half so much as one ocular demonstra­tion. Lastly 'tis an apt means to increase their thankfulness to Almighty God, whose bounty to themselves must needs make a deeper impression, when 'tis compared with the necessito us condi­tion of others: for things are best illustrated by their contraries, and 'tis too observable in our depraved nature, that we valu not things by their real positive worth, but comparatively as they excell others, nor ever make a right estimate of what we enjoy, till our own or others wants instruct us.

14. Upon all these considerations it may be a very becoming useful circumstance in any cha­ritable ministery to be themselves the actors; and to that end 'twill be a very commendable industry to qualifie themselves to be helpful to the poor in as many instances as they can; not only opening their purses, but dispensatories too, providing medecines for such as either by disease, or casual­ty want that sort of relief. A charity which I doubt not is practised by many, and I wish it were by more, that our nicer Dames who study only Cos­metics for themselves, would change the Scene, & [Page 57] instead of repairing or disguising their own com­plexions, study the restauration of their decrepit patients limbs. And sure tho it be a less fashiona­ble, 'tis a much better sight, to see a Lady binding up a sore, then painting her face; and she will cast a much sweeter savor in Gods nostrils, with the smell of unguents and balsoms, then with the most exquisit odors and perfumes. For since God professes Esay 1. that that very incense which was design'd as a part of his worship, was an abomina­tion to him, because not accompanied with the acts of Mercy, we cannot think he will better like of those, which have no higher aim then delicacy and sensuality.

15. But besides this part of mercy in giving, there is another, that of forgiving; which may happen to be of a larger extent then the former: for whereas that was confin'd to the poor, this has no such limits, but as it is possible to be injured by persons of all ranks, so this pardoning mercy is to reach equally with that possibility. This is that part of Charity which we peculiarly call Clemency, a Vertu which not only Christianity but Morality recommends. The Ancient Romans had it in such veneration, that they number'd it not only among Vertues but Deities, and built it a Temple: and they were somwhat towards the right in it, for it was, tho not God, yet so eminent an attribute of his, that nothing can more assimi­late man unto him.

[Page 58] 16. There are many Heroic acts of this kind to be met with among the vertuous Hethens. Ly­curgus not only forgave Alcander who had struck out his eye, but entertain'd him in his house, and by his gentle admonitions reclaim'd him from his former vicious life. Aristides being after signal ser­vices and without crime, unjustly banished by his Citizens, was so far from acting or imprecating a­gainst them, that at his departure from Athens he solemnly praied the Gods, that they might never by any trouble or distress be forced to recal him. So Phocion being unjustly condemned, left it as a solemn charge to his son Phocas, that he should never revenge his death. A multitude of the like examples might be produced, but we need not borrow light from their faint Tapers, when we have the Sun beams, I mean the Sun of righteous­ness our blessed Savior, who as he has recommen­ded this grace by his precept, so he has signally exemplified it to us in his practice; the whole de­sign of his descent to earth being only to rescu his enemies from destruction, and as every part of his life, so the last Scene of it was particularly adapted to this end, and his expiring breath ex­pended in mediating for his crucifiers; father for­give them, Luk. 23. 34. And this copy of his was transcribed by his first followers, the Primitive Christians in their severest Martyrdoms praying for their persecutors.

17. Thus are we in the Apostles phrase com­passed about with a cloud of witnesses, Heb. 12. 1. [Page 59] of eminent examples, which ought to have a for­cible influence upon all, but methinks should not fail to have it on that Sex, whose native tender­ness predisposes them to the Vertu, and who need but swim with the stream of their own inclina­tions. How can we think that their melting eyes should ever sparkle fire, or delight in spectacles of cruelty, that their flexible tender hearts should turn into Steel or Adamant, be uncapable of all impressions of pitty? Yet God knows such changes have too often bin seen: women have not only put off that softness peculiar to them, but the common instincts of humanity, and have ex­ceeded not only savage men, but beasts in cruelty. There have bin too frequent instances of the im­placable malice, and insatiable cruelties of wo­men: I need not call in the aid of Poetique fiction and tell them of Clytemnestra, Medea, or the Be­lides, with hundreds of others, celebrated as in­stances of Heroic wickedness. There are examples enough in more authenticStories, The Roman Tul­lia, the Persian Parysatis; and that we may not pass by the sacred Annals, Jezebel, and Athalia. I forbear to multiplyexamples of this kind, of which all ages have produced some so eminent, as have render'd it a common observation, that no cruelty exceeds that of an exasperated woman: & it is not much to be wonder'd at, since nothing can be so ill in its pristine state as that which degenerates from a better. No enmity we know so bitter, as that of alienated friends; no such persecution as [Page 60] that of Apostats, and proportionably no such fe­rity as that of a perverted mildness. So that the Poets were not much out, who as they represented the Graces under the figures of women, so the Furies too: and since 'tis in their election which part they will act, they ought to be very jealous over themselves. The declinations to any vice are gradual, somtimes at first scarce discernable; and probably the greatest monsters of cruelty, would at the beginning have detested those inhumanities which afterwards they acted with greediness.

18. It concerns them therefore to ward those beginnings whose end may be so fatal. She that is quick in apprehending an affront perhaps will not be so quick in dismissing that apprehension; & if it be permitted to stay, 'twill quickly improve, twenty little circumstances shall besuborn'd to fo­ment it with new suspicions, till at last it grow to a quarrel; from thence to hatred, from that to malice, and from that to revenge: and when that black passion has overspread the mind, like an E­gyptian darkness it admits no gleam of reason or Religion, but hurries them blindfold to their own ruine often as well as others.

19. Let none think this only a fancy or scheme of Discourse: there have bin too many tra­gical experiments of its truth: how many men have bin mortally engaged upon no weightier origi­nal, then the spleen of a woman? the frantic notion of honor among our Duellists fitly corresponding with the as frantic impulses of feminine revenge, [Page 61] and any imaginary injury (or perhaps but just im­putation) to the Lady, obliging her Gallant to rush upon the most real sin and danger. A mad­ness somthing beyond that which the Romances describe of Knight Errantry; for that generally is for the relief of distressed Damsels, but this is only to humor the too prosperous ones, the inso­lent and the proud. Those therefore that have ob­served the common occasions of Duels, have not unfitly divided them between Wine and Women; it being hard to say which is the most intoxicating and besotting. The Son of Sirach couples them together, Ecclus. 19. 2. Wine and Women will make men of understanding fall away. The many mo­dern examples of this mischief, as it should strike an extreme terror into those Women who have bin any way accessary to the death, or but danger of any man; so it is just matter of caution to all, so to regulate their Passions, that they never come within distance of implacability; for if once they arrive there, themselves can give no stop.

20. In order to this, 'twill be well to consi­der at the first incitation, what the real ground is; perhaps somtimes they are angry (as the Galati­ans were at St. Paul, Gal. 4. 16.) at those that tell them the Truth; som scandalous, or at least suspi­cious behavior, may have engaged a freind to ad­monish them; (an office that has somtimes proved very fatal; those commonly that have most guilt having less patience to hear of it.) And if this be the cause, 'tis the greatest injustice in the world [Page 62] to make that a quarrel which is really an obliga­tion: and therefore instead of maligning thei [...] Monitor, they ought to thank and reverence him. Nay, tho the accusation be not with that candi [...] design, but be meant as a reproch; yet if it b [...] true, it should not excite anger at their accusers▪ but remorse, and reformation in themselves.

21. It was the saying of a Wiseman, that h [...] profited more by his enemies then his friends because they would tell him more roundly of hi [...] faults: and this is excellently improved by Plu­tarch, in his Tract, Of the benefits to be reap' [...] from Enemies: so that even a malicious accusa­tion may be a kindness, and consequently oug [...] not to be repaid with an injury. But suppo [...] in the last place, that the aspersion be not onl [...] unkind, but untru, it will not even then be safe t [...] let loose to their indignation: first, in respect [...] Prudence, an angry vindication serving the d [...] sign of the enemy, and helping to spread the c [...] lumny; whereas a wise neglect and dissembli [...] does often stifle and suppress it. Secondly, respect of duty, for all that own themselves Ch [...] stians, must confess they are under an obligati [...] to forgive, and not to revenge. Now if they i [...] tend to pay a real obedience to this Precept, 'tw [...] be the more easie, the sooner they set to it. He th [...] sees his house on fire, will not dally with the flam [...] much less blow, or extend it, resolving to quen [...] it at last. And anger is as little to be truste [...] which if once throughly kindled, will scarce ex­pire [Page 63] but with the destruction of the subject it works on.

22. Let therefore the disoblig'd not look back upon the injury, but forward to those mis­chiefs which too sharp a resentment may betray them to: let them consider, that the boiling of their blood may finally cause the effusion of ano­thers, and wrath may swell into murder. If they would do thus, and instead of those magnifying optics wherein they view the wrong, make use of the other end of the perspective, to discern the dismal event at distance; it would sure fright them from any nearer approch, would keep them within those bounds which their duty prescribes them; and thereby acquaint them with a much greater, and more ingenious plesure then their highest revenge can giv [...] them; I mean that of forgiving injuries, and obliging the injurious. This is a plesure so pure and refined, so noble and heroic, that none but rational natures are capa­ble of it; whereas that of spight and revenge (if it can be called a plesure) is a meer bestial one; every the most contemtible animal can be angry when 'tis molested, and endevor to return the mischief.

23. It should therefore, methinks, be an easie determination, whether to embrace that clemency and compassion which we see exemplified in the wisest and best of men, nay in the Omniscient, Immortal God, or that savage fierceness of the ignoblest creatures. This is certain, that no wo­man [Page 64] would be content toassume the outward form of any of those; why then should they subject their nobler part, the mind, to such a transfor­mation? For, as there are no monsters so de­formed, as those which are compounded of man and beast: so among them all, nothing can be more unnatural, more odious, then a woman-Ti­ger. I conclude all with the advice of Solomon, Prov. 17. 14. The beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water: therefore leave off contention before it be medled with. When once a breach is made upon the spirit by immoderate anger, all the consequent mischiefs will flow in, like a rapid stream when the banks are broken down; nor is there any way to prevent it, but by keeping the bounds entire, preserving that tenderness and compassion which God and Nature do equally in­force and recommend.

SECT. IV. Of Affability.

1. IN the next place we may reckon Affability and Courtesie, which as it is amiable in all, so it is singularly so in women of Quality, and more universally necessary in them then in the o­ther Sex; for men have often charges and em­ploiments which do justifie, nay perhaps require somwhat of sternness and austerity; but women ordinarily have few or no occasions of it, and those who havewell digested the former Lectures of Meekness and Compassion; will not be apt to put it on unnecessarily. Now Affability may b [...] considered either as a meer human Accomplish­ment, or as a divine Vertu; in either notion 'tis commendable; but 'tis the latter that gives it the highest Excellence and Perfection.

2. To begin with the first notion of it, we may take an estimate of its worth by its Cause, and by its Effects. For its Cause, it derives it­self either from a native candor, and generosity of mind; or from a noble and ingenious Educa­tion, or somthing jointly from both; and these are as good originals as any thing meerly moral can flow from. And that these are indeed its sour­ces; common▪ experience will attest: those of the greatest Minds, & best Extractions, being usually [Page 66] most condescending and obliging; whereas those of most abject Spirits and Birth, are the most in­sulting and imperious. Alexander the Great, tho terrible in the field, yet was of a gentle, com­pla [...]sant conversation, familiarly treating those a­bout him: yet Crispinus, Narcissus, Nymphidius, and other enfranchised bondmen, we find inso­lently trampling upon the Roman Senators and Consuls. 'Tis therefore a great error for Persons of Honor, to think they acquire a reverence by putting on a supercilious gravity, looking coily and disdainfully upon all about them; 'tis so far from that, that it gives a suspicion that 'tis but a pageantry of greatness, som mushrome newly sprung up, that stands so stiff, and swells so much. But instead of teaching others to keep their di­stance, this fastidious d [...]in invites them to a closer inspection, that if there be any flaw either in their life or birth, 'twill be sure to be discover­ed, there being no such prying inquisitor as cu­riosity, when 'tis eggd on by a sense of con­temt.

3. On the other side, if we consider the ef­fects of Courtesie, they are quite contrary; it en­dears to all, and often keeps up a Reputation in spight of many blemishes: a kind look or word from a Superior, is strangely charming, and in­sensibly steals away mens hearts from them. This the Wise man refers to Ecclus. 18. 16. when he pre­fers a Word before a Gift. And 'tis Plutarch's observation of Cleomenes King of Sparta, that [Page 67] when the Grecians compared his Affability and easiness of Access with the sullen state and pride of other Princes, they were so enamored with it, that they judged him only worthy to be a King. And as their is no certainer, so also no cheaper way of gaining love: a friendly salutation is as easie as a frown or reproch; and that kindness may be pre­served by them, which if once forfeited, will not at a far greater price be recovered.

4. Besides, when human vicissitudes are con­sidered, it may be a point of Providence too; the greatest Persons may somtimes want assi­stance from the meanest; nay somtimes the face of affairs is quite changed, and the wheel of For­tune turns them lowest that were uppermost, and proportionably elevates the meanest. 'Tis wis­dom therefore so to treat all, as to leave no im­pressions of unkindness, since none is so despica­ble, but may possibly at one time or other have an opportunity to retaliate. Twas therefore a prudent as well as an equitable resolution of the Emperor, who said he would so entertain the ad­dresses of his Subjects; as, if he were a Subject, he would wish the Prince should entertain him. A rule very worthy to sway all Persons of Ho­nor in their entercourse with others. And since even among Persons in Command there are de­grees, and she which is superior to one, is inferior to another; they have a ready way to compare the civility they pay, with that they expect. Let therefore one who meets with a cold, neglectful [Page 68] Treatment from any above her, examin her own resentments, and then reflect, that if she give the like to those below her, they will doubtless have the same sense; and therefore let her resolve ne­ver to offer what she so much dislikes to bear: and she that does thus, that makes such inferences, will convert an injury into a benefit; civilize her self by the rudeness of others, and make that ill nurture her own discipline.

5. But hitherto we consider Affability only in its ethnic dress, as it is a human ornament; 'twill appear yet more enamoring upon a second view, when we look on it as bearing the impress of the Sanctuary, as a divine Vertu. And that it is capable of being so, we have the autority of St. Paul, who inserts it in the number of those Chri­stian Graces which he recommends to his Roman Proselites; condescend to them of low estate, Rom. 12. 16. and that we may the better discern its va­lu, 'tis observable that he links it with the most eminent Vertu of Humility; for it immediatly follows his Precept of be not high minded. Indeed 'tis not only joined with it as a Friend or Allie, but derived from it as its stock and Principle: and certainly a more divine extraction it cannot have, Humility being the Alpha and Omega of Vertues, that which laies the foundation, (without which the most towring Structure will but crush it self with its own weight) and that which perfects and con­summates the building also, secures and crowns all other Graces; which when they are most verdant [...] [Page 69] and flourishing, are like Jonas his gourd, that may afford some shadow and refreshment for a while, but are apt to breed that worm which will destroy them. When once they are smitten with Pride, they instantly fade and wither; so necessary is hu­mility both for the acquiring and conserving, all that is good in us.

6. We may therefore conclude; that courtesie and obligingness of behavior which proceeds thence, is in respect of its spring and original, infinitly to be preferr'd before that which descends from no higher stock then natural or prudential motives; and since 'tis natural for every produ­ction to have some similitude to that which pro­duces it, we shall find it no less excellent in re­spect of its properties then its descent, I shall in­stance only in two, Sincerity and Constancy.

7. For the first as far as Affability partakes of Humility it must of Sincerity also, that being a vertu whose very elements are plainness and sim­plicity: for as it has no designs which want a co­ver, so it needs none of those subtilties and simu­lations, those pretences and artifices requisite to those that do. Tis the precept of the Apostle, Phil. 2. 3. In lowliness of mind let each esteem others better then himself, where we see 'tis the nature of a lowly mind to transfer that esteem to others which he substracts from himself: how where such an esteem is planted into the heart, it verifies all the expressions and outward significations of re­spect, and renders the greatest condescentions [Page 70] (which to an insolent humor may seem extrava­gant and affected) real and unfeigned.

8. On the contrary that courtesie which de­rives no higher then from meer human principles, is not much to be confided in. 'Tis the Psalmists affirmation that all men are liars. And therefore there is more then a possibility of deceit in their fairest shews. Somtimes we know smooth & plau­sible addresses have bin designed as the stale to vile and trecherous practices. The extraordinary blandishments and endearing behavior of Absolom to the people, was only to steal their hearts, and advance his intended rebellion, 2 Sam. 15. and David tells us of some, whose words were softer then butter, having war in the heart, whose words were smoother then oil, and yet were very swords, Psal. 55. 21. and God knows this age has not so much improved in sincerity, that we should think the same Scenes are not daily acted over among us.

9. But besides all the blacker projects of this kind, which nothingbut the event can detect, there is a lower sort of this treachery, which is visible, nay so avowed, that it is one of the most common subjects of mirth and entertainment, I mean that of scoffing and derision, a thing too frequent a­mong all, but I fear I may say very peculiarly so among Ladies, those at least of the modish sort, their very civilities and caresses, being often de­sign'd to gain matter of scorn and laughter. Mu­tual visits we know are an expression of respect, [Page 71] and should flow from a real kindness, but if those now in use br sifted, how few will be found of that make? They are at the best formal, a tribute ra­ther paid to custom then friendship, and many go to see those, for whom they are perfectly indiffe­rent whether they find them alive or dead, well or sick. Nay very often they are worse then thus, design'd only to make observations, to bolt out somthing ridiculous wherewith to sport them­selves as soon as they are gone; and least the in­quest should return with a non inventus, they will accept of the slightest discoveries, the least mis­placing of a word, nay of a hair shall be theme enough for a Comedy.

10. But if a poor Country Gentlewoman fall within their circuit, what a stock of mirth does she afford them, how curiously do they anatomise every part of her dress, her meen, her dialect, nay perhaps to improve the Scene, will recommend yet greater absurdities to her, under the notion of the mode, that so she may be the more ample sub­ject of their scorn. Such visits as these are but in­sidious intrusions, the insinuations of a spy rather then the good office of a neighbor; and when 'tis remembred how great a portion of some womens time is spent in this kind of diversion, we must conclude there have a multitude of acts gon to make up the habit. I wish they would seriously re­flect on it, and unravel that injurious mirth by a penitential sadness, and either spend their time better then in visiting, or else direct their visits to [Page 72] better purposes: and this they would certainly do if they would exchange their meer popular civi­lities (that kind of paint and varnishing man­ners) for that tr [...] Christian condescension; which admits of no dece [...], but is as transparent as Dru­sus wisht his house [...]ld be, that has no secret scrues and spring, to move the eyes or tongue a contrary way from the heart, but is in reality all that it pretends to be.

11. A second property of it is Constancy, for as it is true to others, so it is to its self; 'tis foun­did on the solidest of vertues, and is not subject to those light and giddy uncertainties, that the vulgar civilities are. For he that out of a disesteem of his proper worth, has placed himself in a state of inferiority, will think it not an arbitrary mat­ter, but a just debt to pay a respect to those he thinks his betters; and an humble mind will in every body find somthing or other to prefer to himself. So that he acts upon a fixt principle, and is not in danger of those contradictions in his manners, which shall render him one day sweet and affable, and another sowre and morose. But such mutations are frequently incident to those who are swaied by other motives, somtimes an interest changes, and then the most fauning Syco­phant can transplant his flatteries, and court a new Patron; yea many times to the despight and vilifying of the old.

12. Somtimes again, fortune may change; a man may fall from a prosperous to an ad­verse [Page 73] state, and then those who were prodigal of their civilities whilst he needed nothing else, will withdraw even those from him, least they should incourage him to demand somthing more; an ex­periment of this Job made in his friends (or ra­ther flatterers) whom he fitly compares to win­ter brooks, running over when not needed, but quite dry when they are.

13. But the most frequent change is that of fancy and humor, which has a much more general sway then reason and judgment. This is so obser­vable in the vulgar rabble, that often in an instant they will shift passions, and hate this hour what they doted on the last. Of this all popular states, have afforded many costly experiments, but we need not go farther then the sacred Story, where we find the Acclamations and Hosannahs of the multitude, quickly converted into crucifie him, crucifie him. This levity of mind has bin observed so incident to women, that 'tis become almost pro­verbial; for by how much their passions are more violent, they are commonly the less lasting, and as they are reckon'd among those colder bodies that are particularly influenced by the Moon, so they seem to bear a great resemblance to her in her vicissitudes and changes; yet still with a greater degree of uncertainty, for she in all her revolutions observes some constant periods, and we can tell in her wain when she will be at full, so that she has a kind of certainty even in her planetary errors; but what Ephemerides can be [Page 74] framed for some womens humors? who can tell how long the present will last? and what will be the next that will succeed?

14. I need not bring instances of their incon­stancy from that common place of passionate widows, whohave let a newlove sail even through those flouds of tears wherewith they bewailed the old: for (besides that that is a case wherein possibly they may find matter enough for retor­tion) it is here a little wide from my purpose, which designs no farther inquisition then into their ordinary conversation, wherein that love o [...] variety which is so remarkable in their habit, their diet, their diversions, extends it self often to their company, their friendships also and converse. Those intimacies which they cherisht lately, quickly grow despicable, and at last nauseous, and consequently their behavior falls from kind and civil, to cold and disdainful. I doubt not this has often bin proved by many of those hum­ble companions, which officiously attend them, who cannot alwaiesfix themselves, no notby those flatteries that first introduced them; some new comer perhaps has better refined the Art, and do's the same thing more acutely and inge­niously, and then the old one is to be turned off as too gross a Sycophant; or if they have bin so happy as to light upon some of a more generous temper, who instead of a servile compliance with their humor, and high characters of their worth, entertain them with the true images of themselvs, [Page 75] and endeavor to make what others only speak them, this is that unpardonable crime which for­feits all degrees of favor, and does not only a­vert, but incense. A faithful Monitor is as unac­ceptable as a true Looking-glass to a deformed person, which at the best will be set aside, and escapes well if not broken; and while great per­sons dispence their favors or their frowns by such perverse mesures as these, they will be sure to do it unjustly, as well as unconstantly.

15. I am far from making this an universal charge, I know there are women of the highest quality, that guide themselves by other rules, that are deaf to all the songs of Sirens, and have the prudence to valu a seasonable reproof before the most extravagant Panegyric; but this is owing to that humility which I am now recommending, without which 'tis as impossible for greatness to be proof against flattery, as it is for a Pinnace with spreading sails, and a violent gust of wind, to sail steddily without ballast. And the frequent want of this is it which makes it no less frequent [...]o see those unevennesses and inequalities in be­ [...]avior; those partialities in dispensing even the [...]ommonest civilities, which I have now repre­ [...]ented.

16. And sure 'tis none of the meanest attri­ [...]utes due to that excellent vertu of humility that [...]t can thus fix and poise the mind, cure those ver­ [...]igoes and giddy humors, incident to those who [...]re mounted aloft: and above all that it is a sure [Page 76] Antidote against the most insinuating poison of flattery, a holy spel or amulet against the venom of a Parasite, which the Philosopher justly calls the worst of tame beasts, as a Detractor is of wild: He being indeed a kind of vulture, in the way of sei­zure, noless than ravine, who firstpicksout the eies of that which he designs to prey upon; suffering not the person concern'd, to see any thing of that destruction which he is to feel. And certainly none of the ominous Birds, no night-Raven or screech-Owle can abode half so dismally as these do­mestic Birds of prey, which are not only presages, but instruments of ruine wheresoever they haunt.

17. 'Tis therefore the universal concern o [...] those that are great and prosperous, to chase them away, as Abraham did the Fowles from his Sacri­ [...], Gen. 15. 11. but yet more peculiarly so o [...] those to whom fortune hasgiven a sudden rise, and unexpected grandeur, they being of all others th [...] most obnoxious to this sort of Harpies. The sur­prizes of prosperity do no less disturb the judg­ment then those of adversity: and as one who i [...] in an instant snatcht up to some high Tower, is s [...] amazed to see himself there, that he has no ju [...] mesure of the altitude, but thinks every thin [...] farther below him then it is: so they that ascen [...] to greatness by swift and rapid motions, hav [...] their heads so turned that they are apt to over▪ valu it; and to look with contempt on those wh [...] before perhaps they thought worth their envie [...] And on a mind thus prepared, flattery may mak [...] [Page 77] any impressions, it suborning even Providence as a witness on its side, and inferring from the Dignities obtained, the transcending merit of the obtainer. A piece of Sophistry which the slightest observer may easily confute, all Ages giving in­stances of those whose Vices have preferred them, and by a strange Chimistry have extracted Honor out of infamous acts. Yet to a mind possest with its own admiration, this shall pass for a de­monstration: so trecherous a thing is Pride, that it combines with all who design to cheat us: and indeed 'tis not only an accessary, but the princi­pal; none being in danger by others flatteries, who are not first seduced by their own,

18. It will therefore be a point of Wisdom for all Persons of Honor to encrease their cauti­on with their fortune, and as they multiply their Retinues without, so especially to inforce their Guard within, that they become not slaves to their own Greatness, fix not themselves in such a po­sture of State, as to become immovable to all the offices of Humanity and Civility; nor think that their admission to Greatness is upon the same terms on which the Jews were wont to receive their Proselites, that they must renounce all their former relations; but to remember that they differ no more from others then as a counter set in the place of thousands or hundreds, does from one set in the place of tens or units. A little transposition may quite alter the case; or how­ever, when they are all taken off the score, they [Page 78] are then indiscriminatly tumbled together, and one has no precedence of another, either in place or valu. So undiscernible will be the difference between the greatest Queen, and the meanest Ser­vant, when Death, that great Leveller, shall have mixt them; there will be no inquisition in the Grave who came embalmed, or perfumed thither. And, as a Learned man says, the Ulcers of La­zarus will make as good dust as the Paint of Je­zebel.

19. But I shall be thought to have out-run my Subject, or instead of that amiable Image of Affability, and universal Obligingness, the great Ornament of Life, introduce the grim figure of Death, that sullen Executioner, whom no Gifts, no Praiers can mollifie. Yet I cannot yield it wholly impertinent; for, as its final stroke cures all the infirmities of the body, so the fore­sight and contemplation of it is, as much a Ca­tholicon for all the maladies of the mind; espe­cially that of insolence and disdain. For sure they cannot much pride themselves in any exaltation, that remember they must finally fall into the dust: nor arrogantly despise others, who consider that themselves shall one day be insulted over by worms and insects. Such mental descents into the vault or charnel-house, are the best disciplines for the demeanor in other places, according to the admonition of the Wise man, Remember thy end, and thou shalt never do amiss.

SECT. V. Of Piety.

1. LASTLY, To compleat and crown all o­ther Excellencies, nothing is so proper, so necessary as Piety and Devotion. This is the salt which seasons all Sacrifices; yea, the Altar which sanctifies the Gift, no good (how splendid soever in the sight of men) being acceptable to God, till it be thus consecrated, and have the seal of the Sanctuary upon it. This is a Vertu truly Divine, as well in its original as its end; for as it comes from Heaven, (is an afflation of the blessed Spirit) so it tends thither also, and thi­ther raises its Votaries. This is it which subli­mates and spiritualizes Humanity, defecates and refines it from all the dregs of morality; and so wings our earthly lumpish nature, that we can soar aloft to the region of Spirits, and by its rap­tures make som essay of that state of separation, even while we are linked to the body. This is it which combines us so with God, that we have the same interests, the same choices; nay it does in a sort communicate and enterchange properties with him; the all-Powerful God seems impotent and unable to resist its influence, whilst it invests us feeble wretches in a kind of Omnipotence, by engaging him for us who can do all things.

[Page 80] 2. Now this Piety may be considered either in a larger, or more limited sense: in the former 'tis as wide as the whole scheme of Duty, not con­fined to any one act, but extended to all the com­mands of God. For as the animal Spirit diffuses its self into all the most distant members of the body; so this more vital Principle has as uni­versal an influence on the mind, stamps that with such an admiration and reverence of God, such a love and complacency in him, that every act is (at least habitually) design'd to obey and glorifie him.

3. In the more limited sense, Piety is taken for our more immediate entercourse with God, in things purely divine, as Adorations, Praiers, Aspirations, and all pantings and breathings of the soul after him; and in this notion 'tis more particularly called Devotion. And this is com­prehended it: the other, as a part in the whole; nay indeed, as an effect in its cause; for where Piety has not first formed and modelled the soul, there can be no true Devotion. External forms of it there may be, but that is but ceremony and pageantry, the most submissive prostrations are there but like that of Dagon before the Ark, the fall of a liveless trunk; the most elevated eyes but a kind of convulsive motion; and the most rigid mortifications, but like the cuttings and launcings of Baal's Priests. Of this the very Heathen had som notion, and therefore in their worships had many preparatory ceremonies of [Page 81] lustration, and purifying, as being conscious of the incongruity, that unholy Persons should be admitted to Sacred things. And accordingly So­crates has excellently (I had almost said Evange­lically) defined, the best way of worshipping God, to be the doing what he commands. Indeed without this, our Devotion is meer stratagem and design: we invoke God as we use to cajole men, only to serve a present turn; and of such disingenious addresses, 'tis easie to read the event; or, if we can­not, Solomon will instruct us, Prov. 15. 8. The Praiers of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord.

4. To treat of the several branches of Pie­ty in the first notion, is not agreeable to the in­tended brevity of this Treatise; nor necessary, because there are so many distinct Tracts extant on that Subject; yet I shall the more closely to adapt it to my female Readers, observe the propriety of it to women, not only as it is their greatest ornament and advantage, but especially as they have somwhat more of predisposition to­wards it in their native temper. God's Laws, which are the rule of Piety, have this common with mens, that they are inforced upon us by the proposalt both of punishments and rewards, by that means engaging two of our most sensible passions, Fear and Love; and the female Sex be­ing eminent for the pungency of both these, they are consequently the better prepared for the im­pressions of Religion.

[Page 82] 5. This is so much acknowledged, that our masculine Atheists make an ill use of it, and are willing to think that Religion owes its force on­ly to the impotence of the subject on which it works, that 'tis only an imposition upon the easie credulity of women, and are content to allow them the inclosure of it; wherein, tho they suf­ficiently shew their contemt of Piety, yet they unawares give a greater honor to that Sex then they intend, whilst they confess it more capable of an assimilation to the supreme Goodness, and of the renewal of God's Image (for to that all Piety is design'd) then their own. And therefore women have so little reason to be ashamed, that they ought to glory in the concession, and grate­fully to celebrate the goodness of God to them, who, as he brings light out of darkness, so con­verts their natural infirmities into a means of spi­ritual strength, makes the impotencies and de­fects of their nature subservient to the operation of Grace; and by consecrating their very Pas­sions, makes even those Gibeonites serviceable to the Tabernacle. But then 'tis to be remem­bred, that the greater is their obligation to com­ply with this design of Gods, to let their passi­ons run in the channel he has cut for them; so to confine their Fear and Love to spiritual Objects, that they make no inordinate eruptions to any thing else, but in all their estimations of things dreadful or desirable, to give still the just defe­rence to that which is eternal.

[Page 83] 6. And, as Women in General have this ad­vantage towards Piety, and obligation to it; so particularly those of Quality, who we may sub­pose to have generally a more early institution and instruction in it then those of a meaner rank: and besides, have afterwards more opportunities of being built up in the knowledg of their duty, and (by the help of an ingenious education) clearer apprehensions to discern it; and when they do so, have greater obligations to perform it, both in respect of God, of others, and them­selves.

7. In respect of God they have the greatest tie of gratitude, not only for the common mer­cies which they partake with the rest of man­kind, but for those peculiar, by which they are differenced from others; of which, if they want a just valu, let them ask themselves how willing they would be to part with them, how she that has fed delicatly, would like to be desolate in the street, or she that has bin brought up in Scarlet, to embrace the Dunghil, Lam. 4. 5. and according to the aversion they find to such a change, let them estimate their present enjoiment, and the thankfulness it exacts.

8. Secondly, in regard of others, their Piety backt with their secular advantages, may be of a more extensive benefit; they have many oppor­tunities of doing good by their influence on o­thers; or if no way else, yet the splendor of their example, will by the eminency of their conditions [Page 84] shine (as a light on som high Tower) more per­spicuously, and guide many into the same path of Vertu. And certainly 'tis no small obligation that lies on them in this respect; for God, who does nothing without an end worthy of his wis­dom, can never be thought to have selected som persons as the objects of his bounty, meerly that they may swill and glut themselves with sensual plesures. No doubtless, he who is the great Ma­ster of the universe, disposes all things for com­mon benefit; and therefore, if He have placed som in an higher Orb then others, it is that they may have an auspicous influence on those below them; and if they fail in this, they are no longer Stars but Comets, things of ominous and unlucky abode to all about them. I might enlarge on this Subject, but having don it already in the Gentle­mans Calling, I suppose it unnecessary, since that part is equally adapted to both Sexes.

9. In the last place, they have all obligation to Piety, in respect of themselves, and that in two considerations; the first, of their present dan­ger; the second, of their final account. For their danger, 'tis evident they do not more out­number their inferiors in any thing then in the opportunities, nay sollicitations to sin. Weal [...] and Honor have many snares, and which is worse, do often dispose the mind to such an heedless se­curity, that it takes no care to avoid them: and as in the body, the diseases of repletion are fa [...] more numerous then those of emtiness, so th [...] [Page 85] mind is oftner vitiated by affluence and prosperi­ty, then by indigence and adversity. It becomes therefore those who are so surrounded with ene­mies to fortifie themselves: and that they can no way do, but by a sincere Piety, that whole Armor of God which the Apostle describes, Eph. 6. 13. by which alone they may repel all the darts of tem­tations; nay not only ward the blow, but wrest the weapon out of Satans hand, so that when he urges to them the opportunities, the impunity which their wealth and greatness gives them to be bad, they may retort his Argument, & by a wholsomer inference collect thence their great obligation to be good, and that not only upon the score of gra­titude (tho that were enough to an ingenious soul) but in the second place of interest also, in respect of that account they must finally give. For tho God be not an unjust exactor to reap where he has not sowed, yet he is not so negli­gently profuse, as to do that which no prudent man will do, scatter his goods promiscuously, without taking notice where they fall; but as he dispences all things by particular providence, so he does it to a particular end, and will exact as particular an account how that end has bin com­plied with.

10. It is a smart exprobration of Gods to Israel, Ezek, 16, 17, 18, 19. that she had sacrile­giously emploied his silver and gold, his oil, his flower and hony which he had given her in the ser­vice of her Idols, by which as we may see he takes [Page 86] notice how we dispose of our temporal posses­sions, so it shews us how the enditement will pro­ceedagainst all thosewho so pervert their use: with what confusion must they appear at the great Au­dit who can give no other account of their re­ceits, but that they consumed them upon their lusts, wagedwar against God with his own tresure, and bin as well thieves as rebels? What a Lucife­rian fall will they have from their honors, who have endevored to undermine Gods? thought themselves too great to pay him homage, and by their prophane and vicious example, induced a­contemt of him? In short what a retaliation of inversions will there then be? those that have turn­ed Gods grace into wantonness, converted his bounty into the fuel of their pride and luxury, shall then have their glory turn [...]d into sham, their riots and excesses into the want of a drop of wa­ter, and shall retain nothing of their greatness, but the guilt, the grating remembrance of having abu­sed those temporal blessings, which if well mana­ged might have received them into everlasting habitations. How necessary then is it for all who have receiv'd so much upon account, to be often reflecting on it, examining what charges, the great owner has imposed upon so ample an income? what God requires of them for whom he hath don so much? And this is particularly the business of Piety, which in all the forementioned respects, is as the usefullest, so the noblest accomplishment of greatness

[Page 87] 11. And such it hath bin accounted till this pro­phane Age of ours, which has removed all the boundaries of the former, reverst even the in­stincts of nature, and will not leave us so much of Religion as had the very worst of Heathens. For how erroneous soever their were in the choice of their Deities, they alwaies honored and reve­renc'd those they chose, committed most of their enormities in obedience not in affront to them: did not assign the votaries as Jeroboam did his Priests of the meanest of the people, but thought themselves dignified by their service, but esteem­ed it an infamy not to be pious. But alas now we adaies make other estimates, Religion is so abject so contemtible a thing, as is thought fit to in­fluence none that are great either in parts or qua­lity: and therefore tho too many are willing to appropriate it to women, upon the first account, as the Gospel is the foolishness of preaching, 1 Cor. 1. 21. yet they make exceptions upon the latter, and are not willing to afford it any of the nobler Proselits even of that Sex.

12. I doubt not there are many Lectures read to such, to fortifie them against all impressions of piety, to raise out the common notion of a God, & in order to that to depose his Vicegerent within them, discard their conscience, that unman­nerly inmate, which is still speaking what they have no mind to hear, and will be apt somtimes to question their grand principle, and tell them they [Page 88] have souls. And truly 'tis no wonder if the abet­ters of Athism take this course; for since they have no solid foundation of truth or reason, 'tis but necessary they support their Party by Auto­rity; the countenance and applause of Great Per­sons, & God knows they have too much succeed­ed in the design. But, in the mean time, what se­curity do they give for the truth of their pre­tensions? We know 'tis still required of those that will practise upon other peoples concerns, that they put in caution to secure the owner from damage, But alas, what gage can they give for a soul? Who can contrive a form of Indemnity where that is the thing hazarded?

13. 'Tis easy indeed for one of these Apostles of Sathan, to tell a Lady that she has nothing to do but to indulge to her plesure; that 'tis the extremest folly to be frighted from a present en­joiment, by a fear of I know not what future smart; that God, and Sin, and Hell, are but names, certain Mormos and Bug-bears conjur'd up by Divines, to work upon her fear, and abuse her crudelity. This, and much more of this kind may be said, and I doubt often is; but all this while the question is begg'd, and a strong affirmation must pass for proof: for I defie all the Doctors of Atheism to make any de­monstration of their Tenet; and yet, though they pretend to no Demonstration them­selves, Religion must be condemned meerly for [Page 89] the want of it: that is for not making spiritual things liable to sense, for distinguishing between belief and science; which is indeed for doing the most reasonable thing in the world, viz. the re­mitting every object to the trial of its proper fa­culty: and they who suspect it upon that account, may by the same kind of Logic wrangle us out of all our senses, may perswade us we hear nothing because the eye discerns not sounds, that we tast not, because the ear understands not gusts and [...]a­pors, and so on to the rest.

14. And yet this is the bottom of those Ar­guments which the great pretenders to reason make against Religion, and in the mean time have so little ingenuity as to exclaim on the light cre­dulity of fools and women, that embrace the di­ctates of faith, whilst the same instant they exact a more implicit assent to their negative Articles, their no Religion. A strange magisterial confi­dence so to impose on this Age, what is so univer­sally contradictory to all former, and to the com­mon verdict▪ of mankind. For 'tis observable through all the successions of men, that there were never any society, any collective body of Atheists; a s [...]gle one perhaps might here and there be found (as we sometimes see monsters or mishapen births) but for the generality they had alwaies such instincts of a D [...]ety, that they never thought they ran far enough from Atheism; but rather choose to multiply their Gods, to have too many [Page 90] then none at all: nay were apt to descend to the adoration of things below themselves, rather then to renounce the power above them. By which we may see that the notion of a God is the most in­delible character of natural reason, and therefore whatever pretence our Atheists make to ratioci [...]a­tion and deep discourse, it is none of that primi­tive fundamental reason coetaneous with our hu­manity; but is indeed a reason fit only for those who own themselves like the beasts that perish.

15. But admit we could be more bountiful to them, and allow their opinion an equal pro­bability with our Faith, yet even this could never justifie any body in point of prudence, that should adhere to them. Common discretion teaches us that where two propositionshave an equal appea­rance of truth, there is no rational inducement to prefer one before the other, till we have exa­mined the consequences, and find somthing in the one which may over-poise and outweigh the con­trary. Now in all things that concern practice, there are no motives so considerable, either to in­vite or avert, as advantage or danger.

16. Let us apply this to the present case, and examine the pretensions of the Atheist and the Christian in both respects. But first we are to re­member, that both advantage and danger are to be viewed under a double notion, either as present or as future. The former is the Atheists most pro­per subject, and indeed all he can pertinently [Page 91] speak to, who professes himself only a man of this world. Here he wil tell us that the disbelief of God and another life, is the great enfranchiser of man­kind, sets us at liberty from that thraldom, those Bonds wherewith our superstitious fears had fet­ter'd us, that it supersedes all those nice and per­plexing inquiries of lawful and unlawful, and reduces all our inquisitions only to this one, how we shall most please our selves. The glutton need not put a knife to his throat, but is only to put an edge upon his Palate. The drunkard need not re­frain his cups, but only take care that the be fil­led with the most delicious liquor. The wa [...]on need not pull out his eye, but only cont [...]ve to possess what that temts him to desire [...] and in a word none of our appetites need [...]e restrain'd, but satisfied. And this uncontrol [...] licentiousness, this brutish liberty, is that su [...]mum bonum, that supreme happiness which they propose to them­selves, and to which they invite others.

17. On the other side the Christian is not without his claim to a present advantage, tho of a far differing n [...]ture: he is not so preposterous as to think it a preferment to sink below his kind; to aspire to an assimilation with meer animals, which is the utmost the former amounts to, but he proposes to himself the satisfaction of a man [...]; those delights which may entertain his reason not his sense; which consist in the rectitude of a well inform'd mind. His Religion is the perfectest Scheme of Morality, and makes him a Philoso­pher [Page 92] without the help of the Schools, it teaches him the art of subduing his appetites, calming his passions, and in a word makes him Lord of him­self; and by that gives him all the plesures which result from such a soveraignty, Nor is he totally void even of the plesures of sense, which in ma­ny instances are greater to him then to those that most court them. Temperance cooks his coursest diet to a greater gust, then all their studied mix­tures; chastity makes one lawful embrace more grateful to him, then all the nauseating variety of their unbounded lusts; and contentment swells [...] mite into a talent, makes him richer then the Ind [...] would do if he desired beyond them. Nor is it a [...]ntemtible benefit that his moderation gives him [...] immunity from those sensitive pains which oft bring up the rear of inordinate sensual plesures. So that his condition even set in the worst light in that very particular wherein the Atheist most triumphs over him, is not so deplorable as 'tis represented.

18. But if it were, he has plesures that would infinitly overwhelm that smart, and that not only in his reason (as hath bin said before) but in his more sublime diviner part, such irradiations from above, such antepasts of his future bliss, such ac­quiescence in a calm & serene conscience, as isvery cheaply bought with all he can suffer here. I know the profane laugh at these things as Chimera's and the illusions of a prepossessed fancy (& truly if they were so, they mightyetcome in balance with many [Page 93] of their plesures which are as much owing to opi­nion and imagination:) but if we consider what supports they have given under the heaviest pres­sures, how they enabled the primitive Martyrs, not only to suffer, but even to court all that is for­midable to humane nature, we cannot think that a meer phantastic imaginary joy could deceive the sense of such real, such acute torments. And tho in this great declination of zeal, there be perhaps few that can pretend to those higher de­grees of spiritual raptures, yet certainly were the votes of all devout persons collected, they would all concur in this testimony, that even in the com­mon offices of Piety, the ordinary discharge of a good conscience, there is an infinitly greater com­placence, a higher gust and relish then in all the plesures of sense. But of this the most irrefra­gable witnesses are those who from great volup­tuaries have turned devotes, and I dare appeal to their experience, whether of the two states is the most plesant. I wish those who will not believe this on others words, would themselves make the trial, and till they do so they are notoriously un­just to pronounce that a fiction, of whose reality they refuse to make proof.

19. By what hath bin said, some estimate may be made which bids fairest) the Atheist or Chri­stian) as to present temporal felicity: but alas what an allay, what a damp is it to felicity to say 'tis themporal, yet we may give it a term below that, and say 'tis momentary. For since our life is [Page 94] so, nothing that depends on that can be other­wise, and yet in this shallow bottom the irreligi­ous embark their all. For, as to all future ad­vantage, 'tis their Principle to disclaim it, they discer [...] no reward for blameless souls, Wisd. 2. 22. So that in this particular the Christian does not compare with, but triumph over them. He knows that if his earthly house of this Tabernacle be dis­solved, he hath a building of God; an House not made with hands, eternal in the Heavens, 2 Cor. 5. 1. That when he parts with his life, he does not re­sign his happiness, but shall receive it infinitly im­proved both in degree and duration. And now certainly 'tis visible enough which opinion pro­poses the fairer hopes, and consequently which (supposing but an equal probability of truth) is the most inviting.

20. But som spirits there are so ignoble, that the most glorious Prize cannot animate them; that like a swine, the muscles of whose eies, they say, permit him not to look upwards, is not concerned in all the felicities above, but would at a venture resign his share in those, so he may securely enjoy his husk and draff. But yet even these who are uncapable of the more gene­rous resentments, may be apt enough to the more servile; and danger may fright, tho glory cannot allure them. It concerns such therefore to com­pare the mischiefs which each Opinion threatens to their opposits, and from thence make an esti­mate which is safest to be chosen. And here let [Page 95] the Atheist himself cast up the account of the dan­gers consequent to Christianity, and it can all a­mount but to this, the deprivation (or rather mo­deration) of som present sensual plesures, or the incurring of som present sensitive pains; the former in the daily exercise of Temperance, and mortification; the latter, (more rarely and ost­ner in purpose then act) the suffering for Righte­ousness sake. And both these the Christian bal­lances, nay out-weighs by two more important present hazards on the other side. To the for­mer, he opposes the danger of being enslaved to the brutish part of a mans self, a thing so de­plorable even in the judgment of humanity, that all Writers of Ethics have uniformly declared no servility to be so sordid and intolerable as that of the vicious man to his Passions and Lusts. To the latter, he confronts the mischief of being a slave to every man else; for such he certainly is, whom the fear of suffering can baff [...]e outof any thing he thinks just and honest. For if all the men in the World could successively have the pow­er to afflict him, they wouldalso have to command and rule him; and what can be more abject, more below the dignity of human nature, then to have a spirit alwaies prepared for such a servitude? Besides, even the utmost sufferings which Chri­stianity can at any time require, is outvied daily by the effects of luxury and rage; and for one that has opportunity to be a Martyr for his God thousands become so to their Vices.

[Page 96] 21. If from the present we look forward to futuredangers, the Atheist must here be perfect­ly silent; he cannot say that the Christian after this life shall be in any worse estate then himself, since he concludes they shall both be the same nothing. But the Christian threatens him with a more dis­mal state, he allows him indeed a being, yea an eternal one; but it is only such as qualifies him for a misery as eternal; the worm that never dies, the fire unquenchable, where all the excesses of his short plesures shall be revenged with more ex­cessive, endless torments: his senses which were here the only organs of his felicity, shall then be (tho not the only) the very sensible mediums of his wretchedness; and that conscience which he here suspended from its office, shall then take our its arrears, and return all its stifled admonitions in perpetual horrors, and desperate upbraidings. I need not now sure ask on which side the greater danger lies.

22. To conclude, the result of all is, that the transitory plesures of the Atheist are over-poised even by the present satisfactions of the Pious And the eternity of unbounded, unconceivable joies he expects hereafter, comes in ex abundanti, having nothing on the other side that offers at a competition with it. And at the very same rate of Proportion we have seen the dangers also are so, that we can easily compute the utmost mischief our Christianity can do us, if it should be false; but the damage of the other is inestimable, both [Page 97] for the penalty of loss, and sense. I may now appeal to common prudence to judg of the vast inequality, and to pronounce, that sure there had need be som great evidence of truth on the A­theists side, to preponderate all these disadvan­tages. Indeed, nothing much below a demon­stration can justify the choice of so dangerous Principles; I am sure an equal probability can never do it, where the danger is so unequal; and were the veriest Atheist consulted in a secular case of the like circumstances, he would certainly pronounce him a mad man that should make such an election. How desperate a phrensy then is it to do it, without so much as that equal proba­bility: nay indeed, without any probability at all? And yet this madness sets up for the mono­poly not of Wit only, but Reason too; and by confidence and clamor, seeks to run down those Arguments it can never confute.

23. I may be thought here to have made too long a d [...]gression from my proper Subject, but I cannot confess it so; for since my present busi­ness is to recommend Piety, I can no way do that so effectually as by shewing its consonancy to right reason, especially considering the busie in­dustry is now used to represent it under ano­ther form, and to alienate from it those persons whose Greatness may give it any luster or repute in the World; of which sort I suppose there are few more frequently attaqued then Women of Quality, that converse among those who call [Page 98] themselves the wits of the Age; who living in so infectious an air, had need of som antidotes a­bout them; and if what I have now offered, ap­pear not forcible enough, (for it pretends not to the tith of what may be said on the Subject) yet it may at least do them this service, to put them in mind of what they need, and send them to the fuller dispensatories of others.

24. And that is the thing. I should earnestly beg of them, that they would be so just to their own interest, as not to combine with seducers a­gainst themselves; but if they have bin so un­happy as to lend one ear to them, yet at least not to give up both to be forced in a slavish submission to their dictates, but hear what may be said on the other side. And sure 'tis but a low compo­sition for God thus to divide with Sathan, yet 'tis that of which his Emissaries are so jealous that 'tis one of their grand Maxims, that none who professes Divinity is to be advised with; and therefore by all Arts they are to be rendred either ridiculous, or suspected; to which methinks may by applied that Fable (which Demosthenes once recited to the Athenians, when Alexander de­manded of them to deliver up their Orators) of the Wolves and the Sheep, who coming to a Treaty, the first Article of the Wolves was, that the sheep should give up their mastives which guarded them: the resemblance is too obvious to need a minute application.

[Page 99] 25. But this is manifestly to reverse all for­mer Rules, and to trust a man rather in any Facul­ty then his own, and would never have prevailed in any thing but where the soul is concern'd, that poor despicable thing whereon alone we think fit to make experiments. 'Tis sure, that if any should dispute their title to an earthly Possession, they would not so tamely resign it, nor would trust their own selves in its defence, but would consult their ablest Lawyers, and, by them, sift out every circumstance that might establish their claim. Why should they then suffer themselves to be talk'd out of an Heavenly Inheritance, without so much as once proposing their doubts to those whose study and profession it is to resolve them? But as in all other ills, so in this, preven­tion is better than cure; and therefore to those that are yet untainted, the securest course will be to stop both ears against all profane insinuations. and to use those who temt them to be disloial to their God, that spiritual adultery, as they should do those who solicit them to the carnal, not so much as to enter parly, but with the greatest in­dignation detest and reject them. 'Tis the saying of the Wise man, Prov. 25. 23. that an angry countenance driveth away a back-biting tongue. And certainly, would great Persons look severely on such defamers of Religion, they would give som check to that impudence of profaneness which has given it such a vogue in the World.

[Page 100] 26. And sure this is much their Duty to do, if they own any relation to that God who is so dishonored. They would think it a very disinge­nious thing to sit by to hear a Friend or Benefa­ctor reviled, and express no displesure; and is God so friendless among them, that only his tra­ducers and blasphemers can be patiently heard? Among the Jews, at the hearing of any Blasphe­my, they rent their clothes; but I fear we have som of our nice Dames that would be much more concern'd at a rip in their garment, then at the rending and violating Gods sacred Name; and could more patiently behold the total subversion of Religion, then the disorder or misplacing of a lock or riband. But 'tis to be hoped there are not many so impious, and those that are not, will surely think themselves obliged with all their power, to discountenance all the Fautors of irre­ligion, whether they be the solemn sedater sort that would argue, or the jollier that would rallery them out of their Faith.

27. But when they have thus provided a­gainst the assaults of others, and secured the spe­culative part of Religion, they have only esta­blished a Judicatory against themselves, stored up matter of Conviction and Accusation, if they answer it not in the practic. I must therefore after this long excursion, return to my first Point, and beseech them seriously to weigh the obliga­tions they have to Piety in the general notion of it, as it comprehends all the duties of a Christian [Page 101] life, of which as I intend not to speak particular­ly; so I know not where to find a better summa­ry, then that which S. James has drawn up, Chap. 1. vers. 27. Pure Religion and undefiled before God even the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself un­spotted from the world.

28. But besides this general, there is (as I said before) another more restrained notion of Piety, as it relates to our more immediat enter­course with God in divine Ordinances and Wor­ship, in which respect it commonly passes under the name of Devotion, and thus consider'd it has a great propriety to the female Sex. For Devo­tion is a tender Plant, that will scarce root in stiff or rocky ground, but requires a supple gentle soil, and therefore the feminine softness and pliable­ness is very apt and proper for it. And according­ly there have bin very eminent growths of it in that Sex. I need not he [...]p up examples of former Ages, but rather perswade this to leave som at least to the following; and the more considerable the persons are the more conspicuous will be the example, which seems themore toadapt it to those I now speak to. Devotion in a Cloister is as recluse as the Votary, a light rather under a [...] then on a candlestick: and in an obscure Cottage 'tis either not observed, or else thought to be but the effect of destitution and secular wants a reserve rather then a choice: but when those who are in the ei [...] of the world, the most eminent Actors on [Page 102] the Theater of human life, shall chuse the part of a Saint, when those who want none of the diver­tisments or blandishments of earth, shall have their conversation in Heaven, this recommends it to the Spectators, as the true and greatest object of human choice; since 'tis chosen by those who know the utmost pretence of all its competi­tors.

29. Nor is devotion only more excellent in them in regard of its effects, but 'tis also more necessary in respect of their obligation. Devo­tion is an abstraction from the world, and there­fore cannot in any eminent degrees, be practised by those whose necessities or business do much en­tangle them in it. So that from such, a far less proportion will be accepted, then from those whose plenty and ease give them no other want but that of emploiment. And certainly if there be any of whom that can truly be said; women of quality are the persons: for they in this respect exceed even men of the like rank, for the men are often engaged in public emploiments, and must l [...]nd most of their time to the use of others; or however all have the care of their own privat affairs, the managery of their fortunes to employ them. But of women the utmost that is ordinarily required, is but a little easie inspection within their own walls, the oversight of a few children, and servants, and even from this how many are by their condition of life exemted? and how many more do by their niceness and delicacy exemt [Page 103] themselves? And surely so perfect a vacancy is neither happy nor safe. And therefore God who projects we should be both, never design'd it for any of mankind: but where he gives so much li­berty from secular, he expects a greater diligence in spiritual emploiments.

30. And indeed 'tis an amazing thing to see, that any into whom he has breathed the breath of life, on whom he has stamped the image of his own eternity, can think those immortal souls were gi­ven them only to serve the mean and abject uses of their corruptible bodies, (for which the soul of the dullest Animal would have don as well;) that eating and drinking, sleep and recreations, which are only useful to the supporting us in this world, are the only things for which we were sent hither. And yet if we may mesure their opinions by their practice, this seems to be the perswasion of many of our female Gentry, who look upon it as a degrading, a kind of attainder of their blood, to do any thing but please their senses. An error sure of the most pernicious consequence imaginable. We know a Lady of plesure is in one sense a very scandalous Epithet, and truly 'tis no very laudable one in the other, nay which is worse, they are of­ten coincident, and fall in with each other. She whose sole universal aim is plesure, will not think her self much out of her road, in the pursuit of any particular. And she that thinks she lives for no other purpose, will so often be at a loss for in­nocent plesure, that she is almost under a necessi­ty [Page 104] to call in the nocent, to serve the very end (as she supposes) of her being. Aut indeed were they sure to confine themselves to such as are harmless in their kind, yet the excess of them ren­ders them sinful, and the doting pursuit denomi­nates them lovers of Plesures more then lovers of God, a character so black that the Apostle com­pleats his Catalogue of the worst vice; of the worst times with it, 1 Tim. 3. 4.

31. It is therefore the great goodness of God to design a rescu for those whose condition ex­poses them to that danger, and by exacting a libe­ral expence of time in their devotion, divert them from lavishing both it and their souls together. Neither does he by this defeat their aim of a ple­sant life, but rather assist it: for whereas sensual delights are vagrant, and must be chased through a hundred turnings and wild Mazes, the spiritual are fixt, and one may alwaies know where to find them. How often are the voluptuous in pain to know which plesure to choose? like a surfeited stomac the greater variety is set before it, the more it nauseats all. What difficulties hath a Lady many times to resolve whether an afternoon shall be spen at the Court, or at the Theater; whether in dancing or at cards, in giving or receiving visi [...]s, as not knowing which will best please her? But she that knows the delights of devotion, knows withall that there is no other fit to come in com­petition with it; and so is not distracted in her choice, nor need go farther then her Closet for [Page 105] the most agreable entertainment. I know this will sound a little incredible to those that know no o­ther use of Closets then as a conservatory of gauds and baubles; that aspire to no plesure there a­bove that of children, the playing with the Pi­ctures and Popets that adorn it. Nor indeed do I pretend that such shall find those satisfactions I speak of. Those whose errand is to Beelzebub the God of flyes, must not expect to be treated by the God of Israel. An ingenious man will scorn to obtrude himself on those who desire not his com­pany, and sure God will not make himself more cheap. Those that will meet him in their Closets, must come with that design, resort thither as to an Oratory; nay more then so, they must come frequently. Spiritual joies know not the way to a place where they are not often invited: and as men seek for each other not in places where they sel­dom or never come, but where they daily fre­quent; so God contrives, not to meet us in that place where we appear rarely and accidentally, but where we usually resort.

32. I shall not need to branch out devotion in­to the several parts, that being don already in a multitude of other Treatises, of which if they please to consult any one, they cannot want a Di­rectory for their worship, whether privat or pub­lic. Only let me observe the order and connexion of those two, that they are neither to be sever'd, nor yet to be ranged preposterously. The privat must not justle out the public, for God expects his [Page 106] solemn homage: and their hudling it up in privat, as it may give men Ground to suspect they pay none at all; so neither God nor man can collect any thing better from it, then that they are asha­med of the Deity they pretend to serve. On the other side the public must as little swallow up the privat, and where it does, there may be ajust doubt of its sincerity, Many attractives there may be to Church besides that of Piety, and indeed where that is really the motive, it teaches so much reve­rence to that awful presence they are to approch, as not to come without some preparation. What solicitude, what critical niceness will a Lady have for her dress, when she is to appear at a solemn meeting at Court, and shall she take no care how sordidly, how undecently she appear when the King of Kings gives audience? Shall many hours, days, nay perhaps weeks, be taken up in contri­ving for the one, and shall there never be a minute allotted for the other? This were sure very une­qual, and yet this is the case where the devotion of the Closet does not prepare for that of the Church. If the mind be not tuned first there, it will be very ill qualified for that harmony of souls, which is the only thing God regards in our public offices. So that were there no other use of privat devotion, but as it relates to the public, that were enough to speak the necessity of it.

33, But indeed 'tis not only a needful prepa­rative to that sacred commerce, but to our civil. [Page 107] The World is but a larger sort of Pesthouse, in every corner of it we meet with infectious airs, and those that converse in it had need of this An­tidote. How many temtations does every place, every hour, every interview, present to the shock­ing even of that moral integrity which a sober Heathen would judg fit to preserve; much more of that strict Piety our Christianity exacts.

34. 'Twas the observation that Origen made of himself, that the day in which he so shamefully fell by sacrificing to Idols, he had ventured out in the morning before he had compleated his usual praiers; the Devil finding him so unarmed took advantage to assault him, as knowing he had then but a single impotent man to wrastle with, who had forfeited, by not invoking, the protection of God. And indeed since praier is the most power­full exorcism to eject him, we may well conclude the omission of it is a likely means to invite him: for if God have not the prepossession, if we do not by hearty praier surrender our souls to him in the morning, they are then all the day after like that emty house mention'd in the Gospel, a fit recep­tacle for as many evil spirits as please to inhabit there. Nor are these spiritual the only dangers that attend us, we are liable to a multitude of se­cular ones also: our persons, our fortunes, our reputations, every thing wherein we can receive a benefit, renders us equally capable of a preju­dice. What multitudes of accidents are there to which we lie open, and nothing to guard us [Page 108] from them but the divine Providence? which if we neglect to solicit we are sure very unworthy of its defence. And this is a consideration that me­thinks should bring even the most sensual persons upon their knees: for tho too many may be found that despise the former danger, and can conten­tedly enough expose their souls, yet such are usu­ally the most tender of their temporal concerns it being commonly the excessive love of those which makes them neglect the other. She that fears not the fall into sin, will yet fear the tumbling into a precipice, and tho she care not for the spotting of her innocence, would be very loth any accident should blemish her face, disparage her fame, or impoverish her fortune, and yet from any or all of these she is utterly unable to guard her self. So that if Piety will not, yet interest me thinks should render her an homager to that omnipotent power, from whence alone she can derive her safety.

35. And now methinks a Duty that is thus bound on with the cords of a man, with human as well as divine perswasives, should not easily be shaken off. I wish I could say it never is, but I fear there are some of those I now speak to, who neglect it in spight of all these inducements; who tho they can pretend nothing serious enough to own the name of business, do yet suffer a succes­sion of I know not what impertinencies to divert them. And indeed were the expence of some La­dies daies calculated, we should find every hour so full of emtiness, so overladen with vanities that [Page 109] 'tis scarce imaginable where an office of devotion should croud in.

36. The morning is divided between sleep and dressing, nor would the morning suffice, but that they are fain to make a new computation to mesure it not by the Sun, but by their time of di­ning, which is often as late as the stationary hours of the Primitive Fasts, tho upon a far differing motive. The afternoons being by this means re­duced, are too short for those many divertise­ments that await them, and must therefore bor­row as much of the night as they lent to the mor­ning. And when the meer fatigues of plesure send a Lady to her rest, 'tis not imaginable that she will permit Devotion to induce a yet greater, and more disagreeable lassitude; so that the whole round of her time seems to be a kind of magic circle, wherein nothing that is holy must appear. And indeed 'tis none of the highest stratagems of Sathan thus to forestal their time; and by a perpetual supply of diversions, insensibly steal from them the opportunities of divine offices; an artifice by which I presume he prevails on som, who would startle at his grosser and more apparent temtations.

37. Nor needs he more then the success of this project; for if this habitual neglect of Piety should not finally end in great and criminal com­missions, (as 'tis naturally very apt to do) yet his interest is sufficiently secured by such a customa­ry omission, which amounts to no less then the [Page 110] living without God in the World: a state so hope­less, that when the Apostle recollects to the Ephe­sians the wretchedness of their Gentile State, he does it in those very words, Eph. 2. 12. And sure, those that live so under Christianity, are not in a better, but worse condition, by how much con­temt of God is more unpardonable then igno­rance.

38. It therefore infinitly concerns those who are in danger of so fatal a snare, to look about them, and endevor to countermine Sathan, and be as industrious to secure their duty, as he is to supplant it; and to this purpose, one of the use­fullest expedients I know, is to be aforehand with him; I mean, to make their Devotions the first business of the day; by which I intend not only those Ejaculations wherewith we all should open our eyes, but their more set and solemn Praiers; a Practice so highly expedient to the persons fore­mentioned, that it falls little short of necessary; and that upon several reasons.

39. First, in relation to one of the great ends of Morning Praier, which is to supplicate the guidance and protection of God for the whole day. Now if this be not don till som Ladies Dressings be finished, 'twill be half a mockery, a most preposterous request, as to the greatest part of the day, which will be past before; and be­sides absurdity, there is danger in it; for all the preceding time is as it were outlawed by it, put from under the Divine Protection. Alas, are [Page 111] God's safeguards to be only meridional, to shine out only with the noon-day Sun; Do they sup­pose Satan keeps their hours, and stirs [...]ot a­broad till the afternoon, that there is no danger either of corporal or spiritual mischiefs before that time of the day? Certainly, if the noise of the harp and the viol which Isa. mentions, Chap. 5. 12. do not drown it, they may often hear a morn­ing as well as evening Passing-bell; with how ma­ny others does the glass of life run out, whilst they are at their looking-glasses? How many bodies are maimed and wounded in the time they are trimming and decking theirs? And who made them differ from others, 1 Cor. 4. 7? Or what te­nure have they in the safety of one moment, save what they owe to God's Providence? And what rational expectation can they have of that, when they do not invoke it?

40. Nor are the spiritual dangers less, but rather much more; & they must be very slight ob­servers of themselves, if they do not discern that snares may be laid for them in their recesses in their chambers, as well as in places of the most public resort. Indeed, were there no other than what relates to their dress, and curiosity there­of, it were enough to evidence their danger; scarce any part of that but carrying a temtation in it: to Pride, ifit hit right, and please their fancy, to▪ Anger and Vexation, if it do not. They had need therefore to put on their armor before their ornaments, by a prepossession of Praier and Me­ditation [Page 112] to secure their vitals, lest by an internal death of Grace, their bodies (in their utmost luster) prove but the painted Sepulchers of their Souls.

41. In the second place, this appears requi­sit in opposition to the indecency and incongruity of the contrary. How inverted an estimate do they make of things that postpone the interests of their souls, to themeanest member of their bodies, pay [...] supererrogating attendance to the one, before the other comes at all into their care. But what is yet worse, how vile a contumely is offered to the Majesty of God, who is used as they do their dun­ning Creditors, posted off with an excuse of no lesure yet to speak with him; whilst in the mean time all the factors for their vanitycan have ready access, and full audience. God must attend till their Tailor, their Shoomaker please to dismiss them, and at the best, can be allowed only to bring up the rear of a whole shole of Arti­ficers.

42. But thirdly, 'tis very doubtful whether he shall obtain so much from them; for it may often happen that he shall be quite precluded: so numerous are the parts of a modish equipage, and so exact a symmetry is required in the whole, that 'tis the business of many hours to compleat it; when as 'twas said of the Roman Ladies, a counsel must be called about the placing of an hair that sits irregularly, when one thing after an­other shall be tried, and again rejected, as not ex­act, [Page 113] or not becoming; time all the while insensi­bly steals away, and tho that will not stay for them, yet dinner doth, and then their bellies be­gin to murmur to pay any longer attendance on their backs, and claim the next turn; and between these two competitors, 'tis odds devotion will be quite excluded, or reduced only to a grace be­fore meat: (and well if that, considering how un­fashionable even that is grown) in the mean time what a wretched improvidence is it, to reduce the one necessary business of the day to such uncer­tainties, nay almost to a certain disappoint­ment.

43. Yet suppose this hazard were only ima­ginary, and a Lady were infallibly sure not to lose the time for her Praiers; yet in the fourth place, she will be likely by such preceding diver­sions to lose much of her zeal in them, so that if they be said at all, they will scarce be said in a due manner. There [...]s alas such a repugnancy in our nature to any thing spiritual, that we can­not close in an instant; but as a benummed, frozen body will need som rubbing and chafing before it can be fit for motion; so our more frozen souls require som previons incitations before they can with any vigor exert themselves in Devotion. Now sure the dressing time (I mean such a dressing as we now suppose) is not very proper for such preparations. 'Tis; on the contrary, extreme apt to indispose and unfit them; for when the fancy is possest with so many little images of va­nity, [Page 114] they will not easily be ejected. That ran­ging faculty is, God knows, too apt to bring in even the remotest diversions; but when it has such a stock ready at hand, how will it pour them in upon the mind, to the great allaying, if not utter extinguishing of Devotion.

44. When all these considerations are put to­gether, 'twill sure appear wholsom counsel, that such persons should not trust so important a duty to so many casualties, but in the first place se­cure a time for that, repair to their Oratory be­fore their dressing room, and by an early conse­cration of themselmes to God, defeat Sathan's claim, and discourage his attemts for the rest of the day. We know there is a natural efficacy in a good beginning, towards the producing a good ending: but in spiritual things the influence is yet greater, because it draws in Auxiliaries from above, and engages the yet farther assistances of Grace. Upon which account I am apt to believe, that where this Duty is sincerely and fervently performed in the morning, it will not totolly be neglected in the succeeding parts of the day. 'Twill be easy to discern the same obligation, the same advantage of closing the day with God, that there was to begin it; and when those two boun­daries are secured, when those are lookt upon as strict duty, and constantly observed, 'tis not un­likely but their Piety may grow generous, and with David, Ps. 55. 17. add to the evening and morning a noon-day office; for where Devotion is [Page 115] real, 'tis apt to be progressive; and the more we converse with God, the more we shall desire to do so. Thus we see how this little cloud like that of Elijah, 1 King. 18. 44. may over-spread the Heavens, and this handful of first-fruits may hallow the whole day.

45. Nay indeed, when it has advanced thus far, 'twill probably go farther, 'twill not keep it self only on the defensive part, but invade its opposits, get daily ground of those vanities by which it was before opprest. For when a Lady has in her Closet washt her cheeks▪ with peniten­tial tears, she cannot sure when she comes out think them prepared for the varnish of the paint and fucus. When she has attentively examined her Conscience, that impartial mirror, and there discern'd all the blemishes of her nobler part, she will sure with somwhat a more cold concern con­sult her looking-glass. And when she has bin pi­ous vows and resolutions put on the Lord Jesus Christ, Rom. 13. 14. 'twill be impossible for her to be very anxiously careful about her garments. This devout temper of her mind will by a holy leger-demain shu [...]fle the Romances out of her hand and substitute the Oracles of Truth; will not let her dream away her time in phantastic scenes, and elaborate nothing, but promt her to give all dili­gence to make her Calling and Election sure. In a word, when she once understands what it is to spend one hour devoutly, she will endeavor to re­scue all the rest from trifles, and impertinent en­tertainments; [Page 116] and employ them to purposes more worthy the great end of her being. Thus may she almost insensibly wind her self out of the snare, disintangle her self from those temtations wherewith she was enwrapt; and by having her heart so set at liberty, may run the waies of God's Commandments, Ps. 119.

46. But Privat Devotion, tho of excellent effect, cannot commute for the omission of pub­lic, nor indeed can it long maintain its vigor, un­less somtimes cherished by the warmth of Chri­stian Assemblies; and if God please to visit them in their Closets, they are (even by their own Laws of Civility) obliged to return his Visits, and attend him in his house, I fear too many adapt the instance in the formality too, and come as unconcernedly to him as they do to one ano­ther. 'Tis true, those that pay him a cordial re­verence at Home, will certainly do it at the Church; and therefore by the little we see per­formed by som there, we may doubt God sees as little in their Retirements. But what speak I of an hearty Reverence, when 'tis visible that there are those who pay none at all? How rare a sight is it for som Ladies to appear at Church? How many times (I had almost said hundreds) do we see their Coaches stand at the Play-house, for once at God's? They seem to own no distinction of daies, unless it be, that Sunday is their most vacant season to take Physic, or to lie a-bed; and if such do ever come to Church; Devotion is like [Page 117] to be the least part of their errand; some new garment perhaps or dress is to be shew'd, and that thought the place where the most critical Judges of those things will be most at lesure to observe them; or if they come not to teach new fashions, it may be they come to learn; and such docu­ments will be surer to be put in practice then any in the Sermon. Possibly they expect to see some friend or acquaintance there, and as if Christ were to be served (as he was born) in an Inn, make his house the common rendezvous in which to meet their Associates. If they have any more in­genious attractives, 'tis commonly that of curio­sity, to hear some new celebrated Preacher, and that rather for his Rhetoric then his Divinity; and this Motive (tho the best of the set) is but like that which prevail'd with those Jews St. John mentions, who came to Jesus that they might see Lazarus, Jo. 12.

47. I shall not rank among these Motives, that of Hipocrisie and seeming Holiness; for from that all the rest do acquit them. Indeed 'tis the only sin which this Age has seemed to reform, and that too only by way of Antiperistasis, not by the Ver­tu but the Iniquity of the Times. Religion is grown so unfashionable, so contemtible; that none can now be temted to put on so ridiculous a disguise. And altho as to single persons I confess Hypocrisie one of the deepest Guilts, such as has a peculiar portion assign'd it by Christ in the place of torment, Mat. 24. 51. yet as to Communities, [Page 118] I cannot but think it better to have a face of Reli­gion then profaneness. The example of the former may work beyond it self, and the form of Godli­ness in some may produce the power of it in o­thers; but a pattern of Profaneness, the farther it operates the worse, and all the progress it can make, is from one wickedness to another, so that I fear as St. Bernard wisht for his Feaver again, so the Church may ere long for her Hypocrites.

48. But to recal my self from this digres­sion, let us a little enquire how those whom the foremention'd Motives bring to Church behave themselves there, and that is indeed with great conformity to the ends of their coming, their er­rand is not to be Suppliants, neither do they put themselves in the posture, kneeling is impertinent for them who mean not to pray, but as the Apo­stle describes the Idolatrous service of the Isra­elites, They sate down to eat and drink and rose up to play; so these sit down to talk and laugh with their Pew-fellows, and rise up to gape and look about them. When they should be confessing their sins to Almighty God, they are apologizing (per­haps) to one another for the omission of a cere­monious visit, or some other breach of civility; when they should be observing the goings of God in the Sanctuary, Psa. 68. they are inquiring when this Lady came to Town, or when that goes out; nay perhaps the Theater is brought into the Tem­ple, the last Play they saw is recollected, and Quo­tations enough brought thence to vie with the [Page 119] Preacher. 'Tis impossible to reckon up all their Topics of discourse, nay it were indeed scan­dalous for one that reproves them to pretend to know, by how many impertinencies (to say no worse) they profane that holy Place and Time.

49. But that all seeing eye in whose presence they are, keeps an exact account, and will charge them not only with the principal but the product; not only with their own irreverences, but with those which by their example or incouragement they have occasion'd in others, nay farther even with that scandal which redounds to Christiani­ty by it. For when one that is to chuse a Religion, shall read the Precepts of Pythagoras enjoining that the Gods must not be worshipt in passing by, as it were accidentally, but with the greatest so­lemnity and intention, when they shall consider the care of Numa in instituting Officers, who at Sacrifices, and all divine Services, should call upon the people to keep silence and advert to Devo­tion, or but the practice of the present Mahome­tans, who permit none to sit in their Moschos, nor to pray without prostration. When I say this is considered, and compar'd with the scanda­lous indecency observable in our churches, he will certainly exclude Christianity from all competi­tion in his choice; not allow that the name of a Re­ligion, whose very Worship appears so profane, and whose Votaries mock the God they pretend to serve.

[Page 120] 50. Yet how severe soever the charge may lie a­gainst some, I am far from including all under it. I know there are many Ladies whose examples are reproches to the other Sex, that help to fill our congregations when Gentlemen desert them, & to who somtimes we alone own that our Churches are not furnished like the Feast in the Parable, Luke 14. 21. meerly out of the high waies and hedges, with the poor and the maimed, the halt and the blind; yet som even of these may be liable to some irregularity, which may be the effects of in­advertence or misperswasion, tho not of contemt or profaneness.

51. And first 'tis observable in some who com constantly, that yet they come not early, so that a considerable part of Praiers is past ere they enter the Church. This first causes some distur­bance to others, the successive entry of new comers keeping the Congregation in a continual motion and agitation, which how unagreable it is to Devotion, Numa a Heathen Prince may teach us, who Plutarch tells us took a particular care, that in the time of divine Worship, no knocking, clapping, or other noise should be heard; as well knowing how much the operations of the intel­lect are obstructed by any thing that importunes the Senses. What would he have said, should he come into one of our City Congregations, where often during the whole time of Praier, the clap­ping of Pew-doors does out-noise the Reader.

52. But besides the indecency of the thing, [Page 121] and the interruption it gives to others, 'tis very injurious to themselves; a kind of partial excom­munication of their own inflicting; which ex­cludes them from part of the divine Offices, and from that part too, which is of the most uni­versal concern, I mean the confession of sins, which the wisdom of our Church has fitly placed in the beginning of her Service, as the necessary introduction to all the rest. For considering how obnoxious we all are to the wrath and vengeance of God, our first business is to deprecate that by an humble confession of our guilt. Would any Malefactor that had forfeited his life to Justice, come boldly to his Prince, and without taking notice of his crimes, importune him to bestow the greatest favors & dignities upon him? Yet 'tis the very same abrupt impudence in us, to suppli­cate the divine Majesty before we attemt to atone him, to ask good things from him before we have acknowledged the ill we have doe against him. And to such God may justly make such a return as Augustus did to one that entertained him much below his greatness, I knew not before that we were such familiars.

53. It will much better become them to anti­cipate the time, to wait at the posts of his doors, Pro. 8. and contrive to be there before the Ser­vice begins, that so by previous recollection they may put their minds in a fit posture of address at the public Audience: which (by the way) speaks it to be no very laudable custom which al­most [Page 122] universally prevails, that those few who do come early, spend the interval before service, in talking with one another, by which they do not only lose the advantage of that time for prepara­tion, but convert it into the direct contrary, do thereby actually unfit and indispose themselves. Godknows our hearts even in their most compo­sed temper, are too apt to create diversions; we need not start game for them to chase, and by pre­facing our Praier with secular discourse, make a gap for the same thoughts to return upon us in them. Besides in relation to the place, it has a spice of profaneness, 'tis the bringing the Moabite and Ammonite into the Temple, Deut. 23. 3. a kind of invasion on Gods propriety, by introducing our worldly concerns or divertisments into the house which is called by his name, solemnly de­dicated to him, and therefore dedicated that it might be his peculiar. So that with a little vari­ation, we may to such apply the expostulatory re­proof of the Apostle to the Corinthians, 1 Cor. 11. 22. what, have ye not houses to talk and converse [...] in, or despise ye the Church of God? But this is [...] confess a reproof that will not reach to many, there being so few of the better sort that come early enough to talk before Service, and as for those who talk at it, we have already rankt them under another Classis. Yet give me leave to add that those fall not much short of that degree of profaneness, who come late only because they are loth to rise, or to abate any thing of the curiosi­ty [Page 123] of their dress. For she that prefers her sloth or her vanity before Gods Service, is like (how decently soever she behave her self) to give but an unsignificant attendance at it.

54. But I guess this may in many proceed from another cause, which tho less ill in their in­tention, is not so in respect either of its unreason­ableness or its effects, and that is an unequal esti­mate they make of the parts of Gods Service. This last Age has brought in such a partiality for Preaching, that Praier seems comparatively (like Sarah to Hagar) despicable in their eyes: so that if they can but come time enough to the Sermon, they think they have discharged the weightier part of the Law, and of their own duty. This mis­perswasion, tho it have too generally diffused it self through both Sexes, yet seems to have bin very especially imbibed by the female. And besides the evidence that Sunday gives; the week-daies afford no less. Let there be a Lecture tho at the remotest part of the Town, what hurrying is there to it, but let the Bell tole never so loud for the Canonical hours of Common Praier, 'twill not call the nearest of the Neighbor-hood. I speak not of those who are at defiance with our Service, [...]nd have listed themselves in separate Congrega­tions (for I intend not to trace them through their wild mazes) but of those who yet own our Church, and object not to its Offices, but only have suffered their valu for them to be insensibly undermined by their greater zeal for Preaching. [Page 124] God sure intends a Harmony in all sacred Ordi­nances, and would not have set up a party against another, but mutually assist each others opera­tion upon us: thus Praier disposes us to receive benefit by preaching, and preaching teaches us how to pray aright, and God grant we may long enjoy the public opportunities of both. Yet since this Age has brought themto a competition, I must take leave to say, that if we come impartially to weigh Praier and Preaching, the Ballance will incline another way then it seems with many to do, and we shall find Praier the more essential part of Religion.

55. The end of Preaching is twofold, either to teach us what we know not, or to excite us to practise what we already know: now in relation to the first of these ends, I suppose there is a wide difference between Preaching at the first promulgation of the Gospel, and now: 'twas then the only way of revealing to the World the whole mystery of our Salvation, so that the Apostles in­ference was then irrefragable, How shall they be­lieve on him of whom they have not heard, and how shall they hear without a Preacher? Ro. 10. 14. But where Christianity is planted, and the New Testa­ment received, we have therein the whole do­ctrine of Christ; nay we have not only the matter but the very form of many of those Sermons which Christ and his Apostles preached; so that unless we think them not sufficiently gifted, we cannot but acknowledg, we have in them ampl [...] [Page 125] instruction both for Faith and Manners; enough, as the Apostle speaks, to make us wise unto Sal­vation, 2 Tim. 3. 15. And the reading of those be­ing a considerable part of our Churches Service, we have the most genuine Preaching even before the Minister ascends the Pulpit. Besides, for the help of those whose youth or incapacity dis­ables them from making collections thence for themselves, our Church has epitomiz'd the most necessary Points of Belief and Practice in the Ca­techism, not (as the Roman) to preclude their far­ther search, but to supply them in the interim till they are qualified for it; and by that early infu­sion of Christian Principles, to secure them of that knowledg which is simply necessary to their Salvation.

56. Now sure, to people in this state, Preach­ing is not of so absolute necessity in respect of in­struction, as it was to those who from Heathenism and Idolatry were to be brought first to the Knowledg, and then to the Faith of Christ. We seem therefore now more generally concern'd in the other end of Preaching, the exciting us to Practice; for alas, there are few of us who stum­ble on sin for▪ want of light, but either through heedlesness, and want of looking before us, or else by a wilful prostration of our selves to it; so that we often need to be roused out of our negli­gence, to be frighted out of our stubbornness, and by a close application of those truths we either forget or suppress, be animated to our Duty. And [Page 126] for this purpose Preaching is doubtless of excel­lent use, and the nauseating of it shews a very sick constitution of mind; yet sure the over-greedy desire may be a Disease also. He that eats more than he can concoct, does not so much assist as op­press nature, & those that run from sermon to ser­mon, that allow themselves no time to chew, much less to digest what they hear, will sooner confound their brains then better their lives. Nay, it oft betraies them to a very pernicious delusion, it di­verts them from many of the practical parts of Piety, and yet gives them a confidence that they are extraordinarily Pious; and by their belief that Religion consists principally in hearing, makes them forget to try themselvs by that more infallible test of doing God's will. So that where­as God never design'd Preaching for more then a guide in their way, they make it their way, and their end too; and Hearing must, like a circle, begin and terminate in it self.

57. I am sure in secular concerns, we should think him a very unprofitable servant, that after his Lord had given him directions what to do, should be so transported with hearing his instru­ctions, that he should desire to have it infinitly repeated, and so spend the time wherein he should do the work. And we have reason to think God will make the same judgment of those who do the like in his service.

58. One would now think that this ravenous appetite of hearing should supersede all niceness [Page 127] in it, yet we find it does not, but that som make▪ a shift to be at once voracious and squemish. If this spiritual food be not artificially drest, 'tis too gross for their palats; the Phrase must be ele­gant, the words well accented, and the inticing words of mans wisdom which St. Paul disclaims in his Preaching, 1 Cor. 2. 4. is that which they prin­cipally regard. Nay the memory of the Preacher becomes the most material Point of his Sermon, and the first glance on his Book prejudges him. I need not add the extravagances of an uncouth tone, a furious vehemence, or phantastic gesture, wherein the soul and vital efficacy of Preaching has bin solemnly placed. Now 'tis evident all these are but trivial Accomplishments; so that thosewho insist so much on them, do make Preach­ing much less Sacred and Divine then indeed it is; and therefore cannot without absurdity lay the main stress of Religion upon it, or make that the highest of God's Ordinances, which owes all its gratefulness with them to the Endowments of men. Som may think I pursu this subject too far, but I am sure I do it not with design to dero­gate from the juct respect due to Preaching; on­ly I would not have it monopolize our esteem, or justle out another Duty, which is of more con­stant use, and indispensible necessity.

59. And such certainly is Praier, that respira­tion of the soul, which is so necessary, that it ad­mits not of long intermission, and therefore seems to carry the same proportion to hearing, which [Page 128] breathing does to eating: we may make long in­tervals of feeding, and yet subsist; but if we should do so in breathing, we cannot recover it. Praier is the morning and evening Sacrifice under the Law, which God ordained should be perpetual; whereas Preaching is but like the Readings in the Synagogues on Sabbaths and Fe­stivals. Indeed, however we have confounded the terms, 'tis Praier only that can properly be called the worship of God; 'tis that by which we pay him his solemnhomage, acknowledg his so­veraignty, and our own dependence. When we hear, we do no more then what every Disciple does to his Master; but when we pray, we own him as the spring and source of all the good we expect, as the Author of our Being, and the Ob­ject of our Adoration, in a word, we do by it profess him our God; it being an impress of meer natural Religion to supplicate the Deity we acknowledg.

60. And as by Praier we render the greatest Honor to God, so likewise do we procure the greatest advantages to our selves. Praier is the powerful Engin, by which we draw down Bles­sings; 'tis the key which lets us into the immense Storehouse of the Almighty; nay 'tis that upon which the Efficacy of Preaching depends. The Word is but a dead letter without the Spirit; and God has promised the Spirit to none but those that ask it, Luk. 11. 13, So that Praier is that which enlivens and inspirits our most sacred acti­ons; [Page 129] and accordingly in Scripture she find it still a concomitant in all Ecclesiastical concerns. When an Apostle was to be substituted in the room of Judas, we find, they referred it not to the decision of lots, till God, who had the sole disposing of them, Prov. 16. 33. had bin invoked by solemn Praier, Act. 1. 24. So when Barnabas and Saul were to be separated to the Ministry, tho the appointment were by the Holy Ghost, yet that superseded not the necessity of Praier; the Apostles praied, (yea, and fasted too) before they laid their hand on them, Act. 13. 3. Nay, our Bles­sed Savior Himself, tho He knew what was in man, and needed no guidance but his own Omniscience in this choice: yet we find that before his Election of the twelve Apostles, he continued a whole night in Praier to God, Luk. 6. 22. doubtless, to teach us how requisit Praier is in all our impor­tant interests, which like the Pillar of Cloud and Fire to the Israelites, is our best Convoy through the Wilderness, through all the snares and tem­tations, through all the calamities and distresses of this World, and our most infallible Guide to the Land of Promise.

61. And sure when all these are the proper­ties of Praier, tho privat, they will not less be­long to the public; such a conspiration and union of importunate Devotion, must have a propor­tionable increase in its effect; and if Heaven can suffer violence by the fervor of one single Votary, [Page 130] with what storm, what batteries will it be scaled by a numerous Congregation? We find the Church is, by Christ, compared to an Army with banners, Cant. 6. 3. but sure never is this Army in so good array, in so invincible a posture as upon its knees. The Ecclesiastical story tells us of a Legion of Christians in Aurelius's Camp, who in that posture discomfited two assailants at once, the enemy and the drought; that breath which they sent up in Praiers, like a kindly exhalation return'd in rain, and relieved the perishing Ar­my: and had we but the same fervor, and the same innocency, could we lift up but as pure hands as they did, there would be no Blessing beyond our reach. But the less any of us find our selves so qualified, the more need we have to put our selves among those that are.

62. There is an happy contagion in good­ness; like green wood, we may perhaps be kind­led by the neighboring flame; the example of anothers zeal may awake mine. However, there is som advantage in being in the company: those showers of benediction which their Praiers bring down, are so plentiful, that som drops at least may scatter upon those about them. We find Elisha for Jehoshophat's sake, endured the presence of Jehoram, whom otherwise he professes he would not have lookt towards, 2 King. 3. 14. and God may perhaps do the like in this case; and as he prospered Potiphar for Joseph's sake, Gen. 39. 23. [Page 131] so the Piety of fome few may redound to the be­nefit of all. From all these considerations I sup­pose may sufficiently be evinced the necessity and benefit, of public Praier, and consequently the unreasonableness of those, who upon any pretence neglect it. I shall now only beseech those to whom I speak to make the application to them­selves, and to shew they do so by their more early and more assiduous attendance on it.

63. There is also another Duty to which many of these to whom I write seem to need some incitation, and that is Communicating, a part of Devotion which the looser sort scarce ever think in season till their death beds, as if that Sacra­ment like the Romanists Extreme Unction, were only fit for exspiring souls, but to such we may apply the words of the Angel to the woman, Lu. 24. 5. Why siekye the living among the dead? Why think ye that the Sun of Righteousness is only to shine in the shades of death, or that Christ is never to give us his flesh, till we are putting off our own; 'Tis one principal end of that Sacra­ment to engage and enable us to a new life; how preposterous then is it, how utterly inconsistent with that end to defer it to the hour of death 'Tis true 'tis a good Viaticum for such as are in their way towards bliss, but it is too bold a hope, to fancy that it shall in an instant bring them into that way, who have their whole life posted on in the contrary: the roads to Heaven and Hell lie [Page 132] sure too far asunder to be within distance of one step, nor can it with any safety be presumed that once receiving at their death, shall expiate so ma­ny wilful neglects of it in their life.

64. But I shall suppose these total Omissions are not a common guilt: yet with many others the fault differs only in degree, they do not wholly omit, but yet come so infrequently as if they thought it a very arbitrary matter whether they come or no. And this truly is observable in ma­ny who seem to give good attendance on other parts of divine Worship, for indeed 'tis a sad spectacle to see, that let a Church be never so much crouded at Sermon, 'tis emtied in an instant when the Communion begins, people run as it were frighted from it, as if they thought with those in Malachy, that the table of our Lord is pol­luted, Mal. 1. 12. that some pest or infection would thence break forth upon them. A strange indignity to the Majesty, and ingratitude to the love of our Redeemer. Let a King, or but some great man make a public entertainment, how hard is it to keep back the pressing multitude: many Officers are necessary to repel the uninvi­ted guests, and yet here there needs more to drive us to it, tho the Invitation be moregeneral, and the Treat infinitly more magnificent.

65. I know this fault (like many other) shrouds it self under a fair disguise, and this bar­barous neglect pretends to the humblest venera­tion. [Page 133] People say 'tis their great reverence they have for the Sacrament that keeps them at so great a distance; but sure that is but a ficti­tious reverence which discards obedience; and when Christ commands ou [...] coming, our drawing back looks more like stubborness and rebellion, then awe and respect. I suppose we pretend not to exceed the Primitive Christians in humility and godly fear, and yet they communicated daily, and therefore sure our reverence is of a much differing make from theirs, if it produce such contrary effects. Indeed 'tis to be feared that many put a great cheat upon themselves in this matter. The Eucharist is justly accounted the highest of divine Ordinances, and those who think of no preparation in other, yet have some general impressions of the necessity of it in this; but the uneasiness of the task discourages them, they dare not come without a wedding garment, and yet are loth to be at the pains to put it on, so that all this goodly pretext of reverence, is but the Devil in Samuels Mantle, is but sloth clad in the habit of humility.

66. And to this temtation of sloth, there is another thing very subservient, and that is the easie and slight opinion which is commonly taken of sins of Omission, many are startled at great Commissions think them to carry a face of defor­mity and horror, who in the mean time look on Omissionsonly as privations and meer nothings, as [Page 134] if all the affirmative Precepts were only things of form, put in by Godrather to try our inclinations, then to oblige our performance; and so were rather overtures and proposals which we may as­sent to or not, then injunctions which at our peril we must obey. A fancy no less absurd then impious. That God should be content so to compound with his creatures (and like a Prince overpower'd by his vassals) consent to remit all their homage, absolve them from all positive Duty, so they would be but so civil as not to flie in his face, or to commit outrage on his Person. But this wild imagination needs no other confutation, then that form of inditement our Savior gives us as the Model of that which shall be used at the last day, Mat. 25. where the whole Process lies against sins of Omis­sion, and yet the sentence is as dismal and irre­versible, as if all the Commissions in the World had bin put into the Bill.

67. And certainly of all Omissions none is like to be more severely charged then this of communicating, which is not only a disobedience, but an unkindness, which strikes not only at the Autority but the Love of our Lord, when he so affects a union with us that he creates Mysteries only to effect it, when he descends even to our sensuality, and because we want spiritual appe­tites, puts himself within reach of our natural; and as he once veil'd his Divinity in flesh, so now veils even that flesh under the form of our cor­poral [Page 135] nourishment, only that he may the more in­dissolvably unite, yea incorporat himself with us. When I say he does all this, we are not only im­pious but inhuman if it will not attract us. Nay farther, when he does all this upon the most en­dearing memory of what he has before don for us, when he presents himself to our imbraces in the same form wherein he presented himself to God for our expiation, whenhe shews us those wounds which our iniquities made, those stripes by which we were healed, that death by which we are revi­ved, shall we to compleat the Scene of his Passion, force him also to that pathetic complaint, Lam. 1. 12. Have ye no regard all ye that pass by? Shall we instead of smiting our breasts (as did other witnesses of his sufferings) turn our backs? If we can habitually do this, 'tis to be feared the next degree will be to wag our heads too, and we shall have the profaneness toderide, what we have not the Piety to commemorate.

68. And this seems to be no improbable fear, for in Religion there are gradual declinations as well as advances, coldness and tepidity will (if not stopt in its progress) quickly grow to lothing and contemt. And indeed to what can we more reasonably impute the great overflowings of pro­faneness among us, then to our ill-husbanding the means of Grace? Now certainly of all those means there is none of greater energy and power then the blessed Sacrament,

[Page 136] 69. Were there no other benefit derived from it save that which the preparation implies, 'twere very consider able. It brings us to a recol­lection, fixes our indefinit purposes of searching and trying our waies, which else perhaps we should infinitly defer, stops our carreer in sin, and by acquainting us with our selves, shews us where our danger lies, and how we are to avert it, what breaches are made in upon our souls, and how we must repair them, all which are with many sel­dom thought of, but when the time of commu­nicating approches. We live so far off from our selves, know so little what is don in us that we answer the description the Prophet makes of the surprize of Babylon, of which the King knew nothing till post after post run to inform him that his City was taken at one end, Jer. 51. 31. we often lie secure while the enemy is within our walls, and therefore they are friendly alarms which the Sacrament gives us to look to our de­fence. But if when the Trumpet sounds none will prepare himself to the Battel, if when the Minister give▪ warning of a Sacrament, and the preparation it requires, we go our waies, and with Gallio care for none of th [...]se things, or with Felix, Acts 24. 26. put it off to a convenient time, we wilfully expose our selves, and 'tis but just Christs dreadful menace should be executed upon us, that we die in our sins, who will frustrate such an opportunity of a rescu from them.

[Page 137] 70. But 'tis not only this remoter and acci­dental advantage (this preventing Grace) which the Holy Eucharist affords, it contains yet greater and more intrinsic benefits, is a Spring of as­sisting Grace also, 'tis a Magazine of Spiritual Artillery to fortifie us against all assaults of the Devil, the great Catholicon for all the Maladies of our Souls, that which if duly received, will qualifie us to make St. Pauls boast, Phil. 4. 13. I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me. In a word 'tis to us whatever we need, Wis­dom, Righteousness, Sanctification, and Redem­tion, because it possesses us of him who is so, 1 Cor. 1. 31. so that whenever we neglect it, we mani­festly betray our own interest, and do implicitly chose death whilst we thus run from life.

71. Thus we see there is a concurrence of all forts of Arguments for this Duty, oh that some (at least) of them may prevail! If we are not tractable enough to do it in obedience▪ yet let us be so ingenious as to do it for Love, for Grati­tude, or if for neither of those, let us be at least so wise as to do it for interest, and advantage. I know people are apt to pretend business, the Farm and the Oxen must excuse their coming to the Feast, but alas what business can there be of equal necessity or advantage with this? Yet even that Apology is superseded to those I now speak to, who as I observed before have lesure more then enough, so that it would be one part of the [Page 138] benefit, its taking up some of their time: let me therefore earnestly beseech them, not to grudg a few of their vacant hours to this so happy an emploiment.

72. Did any of their near Friends and Rela­tions invite them to an interview, they would not think him too importune, tho he repeated the summonsweekly, nay, daily, but would punctual­ly observe the meeting: And when their Savior much seldomer entreats their company, shall he not obtain it? must he never see them but at two or three solemn times of the year? and shall they wonder at any intervening invitation (as the Shu­namites husband did at her going to the Prophet when it was neither new Moon nor Sabbath, 2 Ki. 4. 23.) and tell him 'tis not yet Easter or Christ­mas, this were not only to be irreligious but rude; and methinks those who stand so much upon the particulars of Civlity to one another, should not then only lay aside their good manners when they are to treat with their Redeemer. Certain­ly he is not so unpleasant company that they need shun his converse: if he do appear so to any, 'tis that shunning that is the cause of it. He does not open his tresures to strangers: they that come now and then for form sake, no wonder if their entertainment, be as cold as their address. They that would indeed tast how sweet the Lord is, Psa. 34. 8. must by the frequency of their com­ing shew the heartiness of it, and then they would [Page 139] indeed find it a feast of fat things, as the Prophet speaks.

73. In a word, let them but make experiment, resolve for a certain time (be it a year or there­abouts) to omit no opportunity, (and withall no due preparation) of co [...]nicating, I am a lit­tle confident they will afterwards need no other importunity but that of their own longings: the expiration of that definit time will prove the beginning of an indefinit, and their resolutions will have no other limit but their lives. For cer­tainly there is not in all the whole mystery of Godliness, in all the Oeconony of the Gospel, so expedite, so infallible a means of growth in Grace, as a frequent and worthy participation of this blessed Sacrament; I cannot therefore more perti­nently close this Section, then with this exhorta­tion to it, by which they will not only compleat all their Devotions, crown and hallow the rest of their Oblations to God, but they will be advanced also in all parts of practical Piety▪ for tho this and other sacred Offices be perform'd in the Church, the efficacy of them is not circumscribed within those walls, but follows the devout soul through all the occurrences of human life.

74. She that has intently consider'd the pre­fence of God in the Sanctuary, has learn'd so much of his ubiquity, that she will not easily for­get it in other places, and she that remembers that will need no other guard to secure her innocence, [Page 140] no other incentive to animate her endeavors, since she is view'd by him who is equally powerful to punish or reward, who regards not the persons of the mighty, nor can be awed into the conni­vance of a crime. Indeed a serious advertence to the divine Presence, is the most certain curb to all disorderly appetites, as on the contrary the not having God before their eies, is in Scripture the comprehensive description of the most wretch­less profligated state of sin. It concerns there­fore all those who aspire to true Piety to nurish that awful sense in their hearts, as that which will best enable them to practice the Apostles advice, 2 Cor. 7▪ 1. To cleanse themselves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and to perfect holiness in the fear of God.

75. I am sensible that this Section is spun out to a length very unproportionable to the former; but as the principal wheel in an artificial move­ment may be allowed a bulk somwhat answerable to its use, so upon the same account, the size of this is not unjustifiable; the Piety which this de­signs to recommend being the one necessary thing, which must influence all other endowments. We know the course resemblance Solomon makes of a fair woman without discretion, that she is like a jewel of gold in a swin [...]s sn [...]ut, Prov. 11. 12. but even that discretion (if any such could be) without Piety were but the adding one jewel more, ex­posing another valuable thing to the same despi­cable [Page 141] ridiculous use. But to speak truly there is no real discretion, where there is no Religion: & therefore Solomon seems in this place to under­stand by it that practical Wisdom, which in the sacred Dialect (his writings especially) is equiva­lent to the fear of the Lord. 'Tis true, there may be a rallying wit to scoff and abuse, a serpentine Wiliness to undermine and deceive, but that sort of Wisdom (like that of Achitophel) finally converts into foolishness, does very often appear to do so in this life, but most certainly in the next, because it builds upon a falsebottom, prefers tem­poral things before eternal. And as neither beau­ty or wit (the two celebrated accomplishments of women) so will neither Greatness and Honor give any advantage without Piety, 'twill only (as hath bin already observed) make them more exemplary sinners, inflame the account, and so ex­pose them to a greater degree of condemnation, for sure 'tis not their Sex that will rescu them from the dismal denunciation of the Wise man. Wisd. 6. 6. Mighty men shall be mightily tormented, I conclude all with another irrefragable maxim of the same Author, Whether one be Rich, Noble, or Poor, their Glory is the Fear of the Lord.

Sect. I. Of Uirgins.

1. VVE have taken a view of those general qualifications, which are at once the duty and the ornament of the Female sex, considér'd at large. These like the common Genius involve all; but there are also specific differences, arising from the several circumstances and states of life, som whereof may exact greater degrees even of the former vertues, & all may have some distinct & peculiar requisits adapted to that particular state and condition: and of these our proposed method engages us now to consider. Human life is full of vicissitudes and changes, so that 'tis impossible to enumerate all the [Page 144] lesser accidental alterations to which it is lyable. But the principal & most distinct scenes, in which a woman can be suppos'd regularly to be an actor, are these three, Virginity, Marriage and Wi­dowhood; which as they differ widely from each other, so for the discharging their respective du­ties, there are peculiar cautions worthy to be ad­verted to.

2. Virginity is first in order of time, and if we wil take S. Pauls judgment in respect of excellence also, 1 Cor. 7. And indeed she that preserves her self in that state upon the account he mentions v. 33. that she may care for the things that are of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in Spirit, deserves a great deal of veneration, as making one of the nearest approaches to the Angelical State, And accordingly in the primitive time, such a Vir­ginity was had in a singular estimation, and by the assignment of the Schoolmen, hath a particular coronet of glory belonging to it. Nay even among the heathens, a consecrated Virgin was lookt on as a thing most sacred. The Roman Ve­stals had extraordinary privelidges allowed them by the state; and they were generally held in such reverence, that Testaments and other depositums of the greatest trust were usually committed to their custody, as to the surest and most inviolable Sanctuary. Nay their presence was so to convi­cted malefactors; the Magistrates veiling their fasces when they appear'd, and giving up the cri­minal to the commanding intercession of Virgin innocence.

[Page 145] 3. As for the religious orders of Virgins in the present Roman Church, tho some and those very great abuses have crept in; yet I think twere to be wishd, that those who supprest them in this nation, had confind themselves within the bounds of a reformation, by choosing rather to re­ctify and regulate, then abolish them.

4. But tho there be not among us such so­cieties, yet there may be Nuns who are not Pro­fest. She who has devoted her heart to God, and the better to secure his interest against the most in­sinuating rival of Human Love, intends to admit none, and praies that she may not; does by those humble purposes consecrate her self to God, and perhaps more acceptably, then if her presumtion should make her more positive, and engage her in a vow she is not sure to perform.

5. But this is a case does not much need stating in our Clime, wherin women are so little transported with this zeal of voluntary Virginity, that there are but few can find patience for it when necessary. An old maid is now thought such a curse, as no Poetic fury can exceed; lookt on as the most cala­mitous creature in nature. And I so far yeild to the opinion, as to confess it so to those who are kept in that state against their wills: but sure the original of that misery is from the desire, not the restraint of Marriage: let them but suppress that o [...]ce, and the other will never be their infelicity. But I must not be so unkind to the sex, as to think 'tis alwaies such desire that gives them aversion to Celibacy; [Page 146] I doubt not many are frighted only with the vulgar contemt under which that state lies: for which if there be no cure, yet there is the same ar­mor against this which is against all other causeless reproches, viz. to contemn it. Yet I am a little apt to believe there may be a prevention in the case. If the superannuated virgins would behave them­selves with gravity and reservedness, addict them­selves to the strictest vertu and piety, they would give the world some cause to believe, 'twas not their necessity but their choise which kept them unmarried; that they were preengag'd to a better Amour; espoused to the spiritual Bridegroom: & this would give them among the soberer sort at least the reverence and esteem of Matrons. Or if after all caution and endeavor, they chance to fall under the tongues of malicious slanderers; this is no more then happens in all other instances of duty: and if contemt be to be avoided, Christianity it self must be quitted, as well as virgin Chastity. But if on the other side they endeavor to disguise their age, by all the impostures and gaieties of a youthful dress and behavior, if they still herd them selves among the youngest and vainest company, betray a yong mind in an aged body; this must cer­tainly expose them to scorn and censure. If no play no ball, or dancing meeting can escape them, peo­ple will undoubtedly conclude that they desire, to put off themselves, to meet with chapmen, who so constantly keep the fairs. I wish therefore they would more universally try the former expedient, [Page 147] which I am confident is the best amulet against the reproch they so much dread, and may also deliver them from the danger of a more costly remedy, I mean that of an unequal and imprudent match, which many have rush'd upon as they have ran frighted from the other, and so by an unhappy contradiction, do both stay long and marry hasti­ly, gall their neck to spare their ears, and run into the yok rather then hear so slight and unreaso­nable a reproch. They need not, I think, be upbrai­ded with the folly of such an election, since their own experience [...]s (to many of them) but too se­vere a monitor. I shall not insi [...]t farther on this, but having given the elder virgins that ensign of their seniority as to stand first in my discourse, I shall now address more generally to the rest.

6. And here the two grand elements essential to the Virgin state are Modesty and Obedience, which, tho necessary to all, yet are in a more emi­nent degree requir'd here; and therefore, tho I have spoken largely of the vertue of Modesty in the first part of this tract, yet it will not be imper­tinent to make som farther reflections on it, by way of application to Virgins, in whom modesty should appear in its highest elevation, and should come up to Shamefacedness. Her look, her speech, her whole behavior should own an humbl distrust of her self; she is to look on her self, but as a no­vice, a probationer in the world, and must take this time, rather to learn and observe, then to di­ctate & prescribe. Indeed there is scarce any thing [Page 148] looks more indecent, then to see a young maid too forward and confident in her talk. 'Tis the opinion of the wiseman, Ecclus. 32. 8. that a young man should scarce speak tho twice asked: in proportion to which, 'twill sure not become a young woman, whose sex puts her under greater restraints, to be either importunate or magisterial in her discours. And tho that which former ages called Boldness, is now only Assurance and good breeding, yet we have seen such bad superstructures upon that foun­dation, as sure will not much recommend it to any considering person.

7. But there is another breach of Modesty as it relates to Chastity, in which they are yet more especially concern'd. The very name of virgin im­ports a most critical niceness in that point. Every indecent curiosity, orimpure fancy, is adeflowring of the mind, & every the least corruption of them gives some degrees of defilement to the body too: for between the state of pure immaculat Virginity & arrant Prostitution there are many intermedial steps, and she that makes any of them, is so far de­parted from her first integrity. She that listens to any wanton discourse, has violated her ears; she that speaks any, her tongue; every immodest glance vitiates her eye, and every the lightest act of dalliance leaves somthing of stain and sullage behind it. There is therefore a most rigorous cau­tion requisit herein: for as nothing is more clean and white then a perfect Virginity, so every the least spot or soil is the more discernible. Besides, [Page 149] youth is for the most part flexible, & easily warps into a crookedness, and therefore can never set it self too far from a temtation. Our tender blossoms we are fain to skreen and shelter, because every unkindly air nips and destroies them; and no­thing can be more nice and delicate then a maiden vertu, which ought not to be expos'd to any of those malignant airs which may blast and corrupt it, of which God knows there are too many, some that blow from within, and others from with­out.

8. Of the first sort there is none more mischie­vous then Curiosity, a temtation which foil'd hu­man Nature even in Paradise: and therefore sure a feeble girle ought not to trust her self with that which subdued her better fortified parent. The truth is, an affected ignorance cannot be so bla­mable in other cases as it is commendable in this. Indeed it is the surest & most invincible guard, for she who is curious to know indecent things, 'tis odds but she will too soon and too dearly buy the learning. The suppressing and detesting all such curiosities is therefore that eminent fundamental piece of continence I would recommend to them, as that which will protect and secure all the rest.

9. But when they have set this guard upon themselves, they must provide against forreign assaults too; the most dangerous whereof I take to be ill Company, and Id'eness. Against the first they must provide by a prudent choise of conversation, which should generally be of their own sex; yet [Page 150] not all of that neither, but such who will at least entertain them innocently, if not profitably. Against the second they may secure themselvs by a constant series of emploiments: I mean not such frivolous ones as are more idle then doing no­thing; but such as are ingenuous, and som way worth their time, wherein as the first place is to be given to the offices of piety, so in the intervalls of those, there are divers others, by which they may not unusefully fill up the vacancies of their time: such are the acquiring of any of those ornamental improvements which become their quality, as Writing, Needle works, Languages, Music, or the like. If I should here insert the art of Oeconomy and Houshold Managery, I should not think I affronted them in it; that being the most proper feminine business, from which neither wealth nor greatness can totally absolve them; and a little of the theory in their parentshouse, would much assist them towards the practic when they come to their own. In a word there are many parts of knowledg useful for civil as well as divine life; and the im­proving themselves in any of those is a rational emploiment.

10. But I confess I know not how to reduce to that head many of those things which from di­vertisements are now stept up to be the solemn business of many young Ladies, (& I doubt of som old;) such is in the first place gaming, a recreation whose lawfulness I question not, whilst it keeps with the bounds of a recreation: but when it sets [Page 151] up for a calling, I knownot whence it derives its license. And a calling sure it seems to be with some, a laborious one too, such as they toil night and day at, nay do not allow themselvs that remission which the laws both of God and man have provi­ded for the meanest mechanic: the Sabbath is to them no day of rest, but this trade goes on when all shops are shut. I know not how they satisfy themselves in such an habitual wast of their time, (besides all the incidental faults of avarice and anger) but I much doubt that plea, whatsoever it is, which passes with them, will scarcehold weight at his Tribunal, who has commanded us to redeem, not fling away our time.

11. There is another thing to which some de­vote a very considerablepart oftheir time, and that is the reading Romances, which seems now to be thought the peculiar and only becoming study of young Ladies. I confess their youth may a little adapt it to them when they were children, and I wish they were alwaies in their event asharmless; but I fear they often leave ill impressions behind them. Those amorous passions, which 'tis their design to paint to the utmost life, are apt to insi­nuate themselves into their unwary readers, and by an unhappy inversion, a copy shall produce an original. When a poor young creature shall read there of some triumphant Beauty, that has I know not how many captiv'd Knights prostrate at her feet, she will probably be temted to think it a fine thing; and may reflect how much she loses time, [Page 152] that has not yet subdu'd one heart: and then her business willbe to spreadher nets; lay her toils to catch somebody, who will more fatally ensnare her. And when she has once wound her self into an amour, those Authors are subtil casuists for all difficult cases that may occur in it, will instruct in the necessary Artifices of deluding Parents and Friends, and put her ruine perfectly in her own power. And truly thisseems to beso natural a con­sequent of this sort of study, that of all the diver­tisements that look so innocently, they can scarce fall upon any more hazardous. Indeed it is very difficult to imagine what vast mischief isdon to the World, by the false notions and images of things; particularly of Love and Honor, those noblest con­cerns of human life, represented in these Mir­rors: but when we consider upon what principles the Duellists and Hectors of the Age defend their outrages; and how great adevotion ispaid to lust, insteadof vertuous Love; we can not be to seek for the Gospel which makes these doctrines appear orthodox.

12. As for the entertainments which they find abroad, they may be innocent, or otherwise ac­cording as they are managed. The common enter­course ofCivilityis adebt to Humanity, and there­fore mutual visits may often be necessary, and so (in some degree) may be several harmless and healthful recreations which may call them abroad; for I write not now to Nuns, and have no purpose to confine them to a Cloister. Yet on the other [Page 153] side to be alwaies wandring, is the condition of a vagabond, and of the two 'tis better to be a Pri­soner to ones home, then a Stranger. Solomon links it with som very unlaudable qualities ofa Woman Pro. 7. 11. that her feet abide not in her house, and 'tis an unhappy impotence not to be able to stay at home, when there is any thing to be seen abroad; that any mask, or revel, any jollity of others must be their rack and torment, if they can not get to it. Alas such meetings are not so sure to be safe, that they had need be frequent, and they are of all others least like to be safe to those, who much dote on them: and therefore those that find they do so, had need to counterbiass their minds, and set them to somthing better, and by more seri­ous entertainments supplant those vanities, which at thebest are childis [...]; and may oftenprove worse; it being tooprobable that thoseDinah's which are stillgadding, tho onpretence to see only the daugh­ters of the land Gen. 34. may at last meet with a son ofHamor.

13. There is also another great devourer of time subservient to theformer, I mean dressing: for they that Love to be seen much abroad, will be sure to be seen in the most exact form. And this is an em­ploiment that does not steal but challenge their time; what they wast here is cum Privilegio, it beingby the verdict ofthis age theproper business, the one science wherein ayoungLady is to be per­fectly verst; so that now all vertuous emulation is converted into this single ambition, who shall [Page 154] excel in this faculty. A vanity which I confess is more excusable in the younger then the elder sort; they being supposable not yet to have out­worn the reliques of their childhood, to which toies andgaiety were proportionable. Besides 'tis sure allowable upon a soberer account, that they who design Marriage should give themselves the advantage of decent ornaments, and not by the negligent rudeness of their dress bely Nature, and render themselves less amiable then the has made them. But all this being granted, 'twill by no meansjustify that excessivecuriosity andsolicitude, that expence of time and mony too which is now used; a verymoderate degree of all thosewill serve for that ordinarydecency which theyneed provide for, will keepthem from the reproch of an affected singularity, which is as much as a sober person need take care for. And I must take leave to say, that in order to marriage, such a moderation is muchlikelier to succeedthen the contraryextrava­gance. Among theprudenter sort of men I am sure it is, if it be not among the loose and vain, against which 'twill be their guard, and so do them the greater service: for certainly he that chuses a wife for thosequalities for which a wise man would re­fuse her, understands so little what marriage is, as portends nogreat felicity toher thatshall havehim But if they desireto marry men of sobriety and discretion, they are obliged in justice to bring the same qualities they expect, which will be very ill evidenced by that excess and vanity we nowspeak of.

[Page 155] 14. For to speak a plain (tho perhaps ungrateful truth, this (together with some of the modish liberties now in use) is it, which keeps so many young Ladies about the Town unmarried 'till they lose the epithet of young. Sober men are afraid to venture upon a humor so disagreeingto their own lest whilst (according to the primitive reason of marriage) they seek a help, they espouse a ruine. But this is especially dreadful to a plain Country. Gentleman, who looks upon one of these fine women as a Gaudy Idol, to whom if he once be­come a votary, he must sacrifice a great part of his fortune, and all his content. How reasonable that apprehension is, the many wracks of considerable familiesdo too evidently attest. But I presumesome ofthe nicer Ladies havesuch a contemt of anything that they please to call rustic, that they will not much regret the averting of those whom they so despise. They will not perhaps while they are in pursuit or hopes of others; but when those fail, these will be lookt on as a wellcome reserve, and therefore 'twill be no prudence to cut themselves off from that last resort, lest they (as many have don) betake themselves to much worse. For as in many instances 'tis the Country which feeds and maintains the grandeur of the Town, so of all com­merces there, marriage would soonest fail, if all Rural supplies were cut off.

15. But I have pursued this speculation farther than perhapsmy virgin readerswill thankme for, I shall return to that which it was brought to in­force, [Page 156] and beseech them that if not to Men, yet to ap­prove themselves to God, they will confine them­selves in the matter of their dress within the du li­mits of decency and sobriety. Ishall not direct them to those strictrules which Tertullian and some other of the ancient Fathers have prescribed in this mat­ter; my petition is only that our virgins would at least so take care of their bodies, as Persons that also have a soul; which if they can be perswaded to, they may reserve much of their time for more worthy [...]ses then those of the Comb, the Tuillets, and the Glasse. And truly 'tis not a little their concern to do so, for this spring of their age is that critical instant that must either confirm or blast the hopes of all the succeeding seasons. The minds of young people are usually compared to a blank sheet of paper, equally capable of the best or the worst impressions; 'tis pitty they should be fill'd with childish scrawls, and little insignificant figures, but 'tis shame and horror they should be staind with any vicious characters, any blots of impurity or dishonor. To prevent which let the [...]everestnotions of modesty and honor be early and deeply impest upon their souls, graven as with the point of a Diamond, that they may be as indelible as they are indispensibly necessary to the virgin state.

16. There is also another very requisite quality, and that is Obedience. The younger sort ofvirgins are supposed to have parents, or if any has binso unhappy as to lose them early, they commonly [Page 157] are left in the charge of some friend or guardian, that is to supply the place; so that they cannot be to seek to whom this obedience is to be paid. And it is not more their duty then their interest to pay it. Youth is apt to be foolish in it its designs, & heady in the pursuit of them; and there can be no­thing more deplorable then to have it left to its self. And therefore God, who permits not even the brutes to destitute their young ones till they attain to the perfection of their kind, has put children under the guidance and protection of their parents, 'till by the maturing of their judgments they are qualified to be their own conductors. Now this Obedience (as that which is due to all other superiors) is to extend it self to all things that are either good or indifferent, and has no clause of exception, but only where the command is unlawful. And in so wide a scene of action there will occur so many particular occasions of submis­sion, that they had need have a great reverence of their parents judgments, and distrust of their own. And if it should happen that some parents are not qualified to give them the former, yet the general imbecillity of their age, will remain a constant ground of the later: so that they may safelier ven­ture themselves to their parents misguidance, then their own; by how much the errors of humility and obedience, are lesse malignant then those of pre­sumtion and arrogance.

16. But this is a doctrine which will scarce pass for orthodox with many of the young women of [Page 158] our daies, withwhom 'tis prejudice enoughagainst the prudentest advice that it comes from their pa­rents. 'Tis the grand ingenuity of these times to turn every thing into Ridicule; and if a girle can but rally smartly upon the sober admonition of a parent, she concludes she is the abler person; takes her self for a wit, and the other for a fop; (a bug­bear word devised to fright all seriousness and so­briety out of the World;) and learns not only to disobey but to contemn. Indeed the great confi­dence thatyouth now seems to have of its self, as it is very indecent, soisit extremely pernicious. Chil­dren that will attemt to go alone before their time, oft get dangerous falls; and when those who are but little removed from children, shall cast off the wiser conductof others, they oft sadly miscarry by their own,

18. I know this age has so great a contemt of the former, that 'tis but matter of scorn to alledg any of their customs, else I should say that the li­berties that are taken now, would then have bin startled at. They that should then have seen young maid rambling abroad without her mother or some other prudent person, would have lookt on her as a stray, and thought it but a neighborly office to have brought her home; whereas now 'tis a rarity to see them in any company graver then themselves, and she that goes with her parent (unless it besuch a parent as is as wild as her self) thinks she does but walk abroad with her jailor. But sure there are no small mischeifs that attend [Page 159] this liberty, for it leaves them perfectly to the choise of their company, a thing of too weighty an importance for giddy heads to determin; who will besure to elect such as are of their own humor, with whom they may keep up a traffic of little imperti­nencies and trifling entertainments; and so by con­sequence condemn themselvs never to grow wiser which they might do by an ingenuous conversa­tion. Nay 'tis wel if that negative ill be the worst, for it gives opportunity to any that have ill designs upon them. It will be easy getting into their com­pany, who have no guard to keep any body out, and as easy by little compliances & flatteries to in­sinuate into their good graces, who have not the sagacity to discern to what insidious purposes those blandishments are directed; and when they once begin to nibble at the bait, to be pleased with the Courtship, 'tis great odds they do not escape the hook.

19. Alas how many poor innocent creatures have bin thus indiscernibly ensnared; have at first perhaps only liked the wit and raillery, perhaps the language and address, then the freedom and good humor; 'till at last they come to like the per­son. It is therefore a most necessary caution for young women, not to trust too much to their own conduct, but to own their dependance on those, to whom God and nature has subjected them, and to look on it not as their restraint and burden, but as their shelter and Protection. For where once the autority of a parent comes to be despis'd, tho in [Page 160] the lightest instance, it laies the foundation of ut­most disobedience. She that wil not be prescrib'd to in the choise of her ordinary diverting compa­ny, will less be so in chusing the fixt companion of her life; and we find it often eventually true, that those who govern themselves in the former, will not be govern'd by their friends in the latter, but by pre-engagements of their own prevent their elections for them.

20. And this is one of the highest injuries they can do their parents, who have such a native right in them, that 'tis no less an injustice then disobe­dience to dispose of themselves without them. This right of the parent is so undoubted, that we find God himself gives way to it, and will not suffer the most holy pretence▪ no not that of a Vow, to invade it as we may see his own stating of the case Numb 30. How will he then rese [...]t it, to have his so indispensible a [...]aw violated upon the impulse of an impotent passion, an amorous inclination? Nor is the folly less then the sin: they injure and afflict their parents, but they generally ruine and undo themselvs. And that upon a double account, first as to the secular part. Those that are so rash as to make such matches, cannot be imagined so provident as to examine how agreable 'tis to their interest; or to contrive for any thing beyond the marriage. The thoughts of their future temporal conditions (like those of the eternal) can find no room amidst their foolish raptures; but as if love were indeed that Deity which the Poets feigned, [Page 161] they depend on it for all, and take no farther care. And event does commonly too soon instruct them in the deceitfulness of that trust; love being so un­able to support them, that it cannot maintain its self; but quickly expires when it has brought the lovers into those straits, from whence it cannot re­scu them. So that indeed it does but play the decoy with them, brings them into the noose and then retires. For when secular wants begin to pinch them, all the transports of their kindness do usu­ally convert into mutual accusations, for having made each other miserable.

21. And indeed there is no reason to expect any better event, because in the second place they for­feit their title to the divine blessing; nay they put themselves out of the capacity to ask it, it being a ridiculous impudence to beg God to prosper the transgressions of his law. Such weddings seem to invoke only som of the Poetic Romantic Deities, Venus & Hymen, from whence they derive a hap­piness as fictitious as are the Gods that are to send it. Let all Virgins therefore religiously observe this part of Obedience to their parents, that they may not only have their benediction but Gods. And to that purpose let this be laid as a funda­mental rule, that they never harken to any propo­sal of marriage made them from any other hand; but when any such overture is made, divert the address from her self and direct it to her parents, which will be the best test imaginable for any pre­tender: for if he know himself worthy of her, he wil [Page 162] not fear to avow his design to them; and there­fore if he decline that, 'tis a certain symptom, he is conscious of somthing that he knows wil not give a valuable consideration; so that this course will repel no suitor but such as it is their interest not to admit. Besides tis most agreeable to the vir­gin modesty, which should make marriage an act rather of their obedience then their choise; and they that think their friends too flow paced in the matter, and seek to outrun them, give cause to suspect they are spurr'd on by somwhat too warm desires.

22. But as a Daughter is neither to anticipate, nor contradict the will of her Parent, so (to hang the ballance even) I must say she is not obliged to force her own, by marrying wher she cannot love; for a negative voice in the case is sure as much the child's right as the Parent [...]s. It is true she ought well to examine the grounds of her aversion, and if they prove only childish and fanciful, should endeavor to correct them by reason and sober consideration; but if after all she cannot leave to hate, I think she should not proceed to marry. I confess I see not how she can without a sacrilegious hypocrisie, vow so solemnly to love where she at the instant actually abhors: and where the marri­ed state is begun with such a perjury, 'tis no wonder to find it continued on at the same rate, that other parts of the vow be also violated; and that she observe the negative part no more then the posi­tive, and as little forsake others, as she does [Page 163] heartily cleave to her husband. I fear this is a con­sequence wherof there are too many sad instances now extant; for tho doubtless, there are some Ver­tues which wil hold out against all the temtations their a versions can give, nay which do at last even conquer those a versions, and render their duty as easie as they have kept it safe; yet we find there are but some that do so: that it is no inseparable property of the sex, and therefore it is sure too ha­zardous an experiment for any of them to venture on.

23. And if they may not upon the more gene­rous motive of Obedience, much less may they upon the worse inducements of Avarice and Am­bition; for a woman to make a vow to the man, and yet intend only to marry his fortune, or his title, is the basest insincerity and such as in any other kind of civil contracts, would not only have the infamy but the punishment of a cheat. Nor will it at all secure them, that this is only liable to Gods tribunal, for that is not like to make the doom less but more heavy, it being as the Apostle witnesses, a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. Heb. 20. 31. In a word, marriage is Gods ordinance, & should be consider'd as such; not made a stale to any unworthy design. And it may well be presum'd one cause why so few matches are happy, that they are not built upon a right foundation. Some are grounded upon wealth, some on beauty, too sandy bottoms God knows to raise any lasting felicity on: whilst in the [Page 164] interim, vertu & piety, the only solid Basis for that superstructure, are scarce ever consider'd. Thus God is commonly left out of the consultation. The Lawyers are resorted to, to secure the settlements all sorts of Artificers to make up the equipage, but he is neither advis'd with as to the motives, nor scarce supplicated as to the event of wedding. Indeed tis a deplorable sight to see with what light­ness & unconcernedness young people go to that weightiest action of their livs, that a mariage day is but a kind of Bacchanal, a more licensed a vow­ed revel, when if they duly consider'd it, 'tis the hinge upon which their future life moves, which turns them over to a happy or miserable being; & therfore ought to be enter'd upon with the great­est seriousness and devotion. Our Church advises excellently in the preface to matrimony, & I wish they would not only give it the hearing at the time, but make it their study a good while before: yea and the marriage-vow too, which is so strict and awful a bond, that methinks they had need well weigh every branch of it, ere they enter it; and by the ferventest praiers implore that God, who is the witness, to be their assistant too in its perfor­mance.

SECT. II. Of Wives.

1. AND now having conducted the virgin to the entrance of another state, I must shift the Scene and attend her thither also. And here she is lanched into a wide sea, that one relation of a wife drawing after it many others: for as she espouses the man s [...]she does his obligations also; and wherever he by ties of nature or alliance ows a reverence or kindness, she is no less a debtor. Her marriage is an adoption into his family, and therefore she is to every branch of it to pay what their stations there do respectively require: to de­fine which more particularly, would be a work of more length then profit. I shall therefore confine the present consideration to the relation she stands in to her husband, & (what is usually concomitant with that) her children, and her servants, and so shall consider her in the three capacities of a Wife, a Mother, and a Mistress.

2. In that of a Wife her duty has several aspects, [...]s it relates, first to his Person, secondly to his Reputation, thirdly to his Fortune. The first debt [...]o his person is Love, which we find set as the [...]rime Article in the marriage vow; & indeed that [...]s the most essential requisite; without this 'tis [...]nly a Bargain and Compact, a Tyranny perhaps [Page 166] on the mans part, and a Slavery on the womans. 'Tis Love only that cements the hearts, and where that union is wanting, 'tis but a shadow, a car­cass of marriage. Therefore as it is very necessary to bring some degree of this, to this State; so 'tis no less to maintain and improve it in it. This is it which facilitats all other duties of marriag; makes the yoke sit so lightly, that it rather pleases then galls. It should therefore be the study of Wives to preserve this flame; that like the vestal fire it may never go out: and to that end carefully to guard it from all those things which are naturally apt to extinguish it; of which kind are all frowardness and little perversness of humor; all sullen and mo­rose behavior, which by taking off from the de­light and complacency of conversation, will by degrees wear off the kindness.

3. But of all I know nothing more dangerous then that unhappy passion of Jealousy, which th [...] 'tis said to be the child of love, yet like the viper, its birth is the certain destruction of the parent As therefore they must be nicely careful to give their husbands no color, no least unbrage for it▪ so should they be as resolute to resistall that occurs to themselves, be so far from that busy curiosity that industry to find causes of suspicion; that eve [...] where they presented themselves, they should avert the consideration; put the most candid con­struction upon any doubtful action. And indee [...] charity in this instance, has not more of the Dov [...] then of the Serpent. It is infinitly the wises [...] [Page 167] course, both in relation to her present quiet, and her future innocence. The entertaining a jealous fancy, is the admitting the most treacherous the most disturbing inmate in the World, & she opens her breast to a fury that lets it in. 'Tis certainly one of the most enchanting [...] imaginable, keeps her alwaies in a most restless importunate search after that which she dreads and abhors to find, and makes her equally miserable when she is injured, and when she is not.

4. And as she totally loses her ease, so 'tis odds but she will part also with some degrees of her innocence. Jeolousy is commonly attended with a black train; it musters all the forces of our irascible part, to abet its quarrel; Wrath and Anger, Malice and Revenge: and by how much the female impotence to govern those passions is the greater; so much the more dangerous is it to admit that which will so surely set them in an uprore. For if Jealousy be as the wise man saies the rage of a man Prov. 6. 32. we may well think it may be the fury the madness of a woman; and indeed all ages have given tragical instances of it, not only in the most indecent fierceness and clamor but in the solemn mischeifs of actualrevenges. Nay 'tis tobedoubted therehave bin somewhose malice has rebounded, and have ruined themselves in spight; have bin adulterous by way of retaliation: and taken more scandalous liberties then those they complained of in their husbands. And when such enormous effects as these are the issues of jealousy; [Page 168] it ought to keep women on the strictest guard a­gainst it.

5. But perhaps it may be said that some are not left to their Jealousy and conjectures; but have moredemonstrativeproofs. In thisage 'tisindeedno strange thingfor men to publish their sin as Sodom, and the offender does somtimes not discover but boast his crime. In this case I confess 'twill be scarce possible to disbelieve him; but even here a wife has this advantage, that she is out of the pain of Suspence; she knows the utmost, and therefore is now at lesure to convert all that industry which she would have used for the discovery, to fortify her self against a known calamity; which sure she may as well do in this as in any other; a patient Submission being the one Catholicon in all di­stresses; and as the slightest can overwhelm us if we add our own impatience towards our sinking; so the greatest cannot, if we deny it that aid. They are therefore far in the wrong, who in case of this injury pursue their husbands withvirulencies and reproches. This is as Solomon saies Pro. 25. 20. Thepowringvinegar upon niter, applyingcorrosives whenbalsoms are most needed; whereby they not only increase their own smart, but render the wound incurable. They are not thunders and earthquakes, but soft gentle rains that close the scissures of the ground; and the breaches of Wedlock will never be cemented by storms and loud outcries. Many men have bin made worse, but scarce ever any better by it; for guilt covets [Page 169] nothing more then an opportunity of recrimi­nating; and where the husband can accuse the wives bitterness, he thinks he needs no other apo­logy for his own lust.

6. A Wise Dissimulation, or very calm notice is sure the likeliest means of reclaiming, for where men have not wholy put off humanity, there is a native compassion to a meek sufferer. We have naturally some regret to see a Lamb under the knife; whereas the impatient roaring of a swine diverts our pitty; so that Patience in this case is as much the interest as duty of a Wife.

7. But there is another instance wherein that vertu has yet a severer trial, and that is when a Wife lies under the causeless jealousies of the husband, (I say causeless, for if they be just 'tis not so much a season for patience, as for repentance and reformation.) This is sure one of the greatest calamities that can befall a vertuous woman, who as she accounts nothing so dear as her loialty and honor; so thinks no infelicity can equal the aspersing of those; especially when 'tis from him, towhomshe has bin the most solicitous to approve her self. Yet God who permits nothing but what he directs to some wise and gracious end, has an overruling hand in this as well as in all other e­vents of life; and therefore it becomes every wo­man in that condition, to examine strictly what she has don to provoke so severe a scourge; for tho her heart condemn her not of any falseness to her husband, yet probably it may of many disloi­alties [Page 170] to her God, and then she is humbly to accept even of this traducing of her innocence, as the pu­nishment of her iniquity, and bear it with the same temper wherewith David did the unjust revilings of Shimei 2 Kings 16. 10. Let him curse, for the Lord hath bidden him.

8. And when she hath made this penitent re­flection on her real guilts, she may then with more courage encounter those imaginary ones which are charged on her; wherein she is to use all prudent and regular means for her justification, that being a debt she ows to truth, and her own fame; but if after all, the suspicion remains still fixed (as commonly those which are the most unreasonable are the most obstinate) she may still solace her self in her integrity, and Gods approbation of it. Nor ought she to think her self desolate, that has her appeal open to heaven. Therefore whilst she can look both inward and upward with comfort, why should she chuse to fix her eies only on the object of her grief; and whilst her own complaint is of defamation, why should she so dishonor God and a good conscience, as to shew any thing can be more forcible to oppress, then they are to relieve and support? And if she may not indulge to grief, much less may she to anger, and bitterness.

9. Indeed if she consider how painful a passion jealousie is, her husband will more need her pitty, who tho he be unjust to her, is yet cruel to him­self; and as we do not use to hate and malign those Lunatics who in their fits beat their friends, and [Page 171] cut and gash themselves, but rather make it our care to put all harmful engines out of their way; so should the wife not despitefully ruminate upon the injury, but wisely to contrive to avert his tem­tations to more; by denying her self even the most innocent liberties, if she see they dissatisfy him. I know there have bin som of another opinion, and as if they thought jealousy were to be cured by majoration, have in an angry contemt don things to inflame it; put on an unwonted freedom and jollity, to shew their husbands how little they had secur'd themselves by their distrust. But this as it is no Christian, so I conceive it is no prudent ex­pedient; it serves to stengthen not only the hus­bands suspicion, but his party too, and make many others of his mind; and 'tis a little to be feared, that by using so to brave the Jealousy, they may at last come to verify it. I have bin the longer on this theme, because as Jealousie is the most fatal pest of a married life, so I think it more ordinarily occurs among people of quality, and with the worst and most durable effects; yet what ever pre­tences people may take hence, the marriage vow is too fast a knot to be loosened by fancies and chi­meras; let a woman therefore be the person sus­pecting or suspected, neither wil absolve her from that love to her husband she has sworn to pay.

10. But alas what hope is there that these greater temptations shall be resisted, when we see every the slightest disgust is now adays too strong for the matrimonial love, nay indeed it does of [Page 172] course fall off of it self, which is an event so much expected, that 'tis no wonder to see it expire with the first circuit of the moon; but it is every bodies admiration to see it last one of the sun; and some­times it vanishes so cleerly, as not to leave so much as a shadow behind it, not so much as the forma­lities of marriage; one bed, one house cannot hold them, as if they had bin put together like case-shot in a gun, only that they might the more forcibly scatter several waies. Nay as if this were design­ed and intended in the first addresses unto marri­age; a separate maintenance is of course aforehand contracted for, and becomes as solemn a part of the settlement, as a Jointure is. Plutarch observes of the ancient Romans, that f r 230. years after founding of their state, there never was one ex­ample of any married couple that separated▪ it is not likely they could have a more binding form of marriage then ours is, the difference must lie between their v [...]racity and our falsness.

11. But even amongst those who desert not each other, too many do mutually fall from that entireness and affection which is the soul of mar­riage; and to help on the declination, there are fashionable Maxims taken up, to make men and their wives the greatest strangers to each other: Thus 'tis pronounced a piece of ill Breeding, a sign of a country Gentleman, to see a man go abroad with his own wife (I suppose those who brought up these rules are not to seek what use to make of them) and were the time of most of the modish [Page 173] couples computed, itwould be sound they are but few of their waking hours (I might say minutes) together; so, that if nothing else, meer desuetude and intermission of conversation must needs allay, if not quite extinguish their kindness. But I hope there are yet many who do not think the autority of a fashion greaterthenthat of a vow; & such will still think it▪ their duty both to own and cherish that kindness and affection they have so solemnly promis'd.

12. Another debt to the person of a husband is Fidelity: sor as she has espoused all his interests, so she is obliged to be true to them, to keep all his secrets, to inform him of his dangers, yea and in a mild and gentle manner to admonish him of his faults. This is the most genuine act of friendship; therefore she who is placed in the neerest and most intimate degree of that relation, must not be want­ing in it. She that lies in his bosom should be a kind of second conscience to him, by putting him in mind both of his duty and his aberrations, and as long as she can be but patiently heard 'tis her sin to omit it; 'tis the greatest treachery to his noblest, to his immortal part, and such as the most officious cares of his other interests can never ex­piate. Nay indeed she is unfaithful to her self in it, there being nothing that does so much secure the happiness of a Wife as the vertu and piety of the husband. Yet, tho this is to have her chiefest care, as being his principal interest, she is to neglect none of the inferior, but contribute her [Page 174] utmost to his advantage in all his concerns.

13. Beyond all these the matrimonial fidelity has a special notion as it relates to the Bed; & in that the wise is to be most severely scrupulous, & never to admit so much as a thought or imagination, much lesse any parly or treaty contrary to her loialty. Tis true wantonness is one of the foulest blots that can stain any of the sex; but 'tis infinitly more odious in the married, it being in them an accu­mulation of crimes; perjury added to uncleanness; the infamy of their family superstructed upon their own; and accordingly all lawes have made a diffe­rence in their punishments. Adultery was by Gods own award punisht with death among the Jews, Levit. 20. 10. And it seems it was so agreable to natural justice, that divers other nations did the like; and I know no reason, but the difficulty of detection, that should any where give it a milder sentence. The son of Sirach has excellently de­scrib'd the several gradations of the guilt Ecclus. 23. 1. which I shall desire the Reader to consult: which who so does must certainly wonder at the Alchimy of this age, that from such a mass of shame and infamy can extract matter of confidence, that those who lie under so many brands and stigmas, are so far from hiding their faces, that none shew them with so much boldness; and the assurance of the guilty far exceeds that of the innocent. But impudence is a slender shelter for guilt; and serves rather to betray then hide; so that theyare not able to outface the opinions of men; much lesse can [Page 175] they the judgments of God; who as He was so­lemnly invok'd as witness to their vow, so by his omnipresence is against their wills a witness too of its violations.

14. Another duty to the person of the husband is obedience, a word of a very harsh sound in the ears of some wives, but is certainly the duty of all: and that not only by their promise of it, tho that were sufficient; but from an original of much ol­der date, it being the mulct that was laid upon the first womans disobedience to God, that she (and all derived from her) should be subject to the husband; so that the contending for superiority, is anattemt to reverse thatfundamentallaw, which is almost as ancient as the World. But surely God with whom there is no shadow of change, will not make acts of repeal to satisfie the petulancy of a few masterless women. That statute will stillstand in force, and if it cannot awe them into an obser­vance, will not fail to consign them topunishment. And indeed this fault is commonly its own lictor, and does anticipate (tho not avert) its final doom. Theimperiousness ofawomandos oftenraise those storms, wherein her self isshipwrack'd. How plea­santly might many women have lived if they had not affected dominion. Nay how much of their will might they have had, if they had not strugled for it. For let a man be of never so gentle a temper (unless his head be softer then his heart) such a usurpation will awake him to assert his right. But if he be of a sowr severe nature; if he have as great [Page 176] a desire of rule as she, backt with a much better title, what tempests what Hurricanes must two such opposite winds produce? And at last 'tis com­monly the wives lot, after an uncreditable unjust war, to make as disadvantageous a peace; this (like all other ineffective rebellions) serving to straiten her yoke, to turn an ingenuous subjection into a slavish servitude: so that certainly it is not only the vertue, but the wisdom of wives to do that upon duty, which at last they must (with more unsupportable circumstances.) do upon ne­cessity.

15. And as they ow these severalls to the person of the husband, so there is also a debt to his repu­tation. This they are to be extremely tender of, to advance it, by making all that is good in him as conspicuous, as public as they can; setting his worth in the cleerest light, but putting his in­firmities in the shade; casting a veil upon those to skreen them from the eies of others, nay (as far as is possible) from their own too; there being nothing acquir'd to the wifeby contemplating the husbands weakness, but a temtation of despising him; which tho bad enough in itself, is yet renderd worse by that train of mischievous consequences which usually attend it. In case therefore of any notable imperfections in him, her safest way will be to consider them no farther then she can be in­strumental to the curing them; but to divert from those, and reflect upon her own▪ which perhaps if impartially weighed, may ballance▪ if not overpoi [...] [Page 177] his. And indeed those wives who are apt blaze their husbands faults, doe shew that they have either little adverted to theirown, orelse find them so great, that they are forced to that art of diver­sion, and seek in his infamy to drown theirs. But that project is a little unlucky, for nothing does in sober judges create greaterprejudice to a woman, then to see her forward in impeaching her husband

16. But besides this immediate tenderness of his reputation, there is another by way of refle­ction, which consists in a care that she her self do nothing which may redound to his dishonor: ther is so strict union between a man and his wife, that the law counts them one person, and conse­quently they can have no divided interest, so that the misbehavior of the woman reflects ignomi­niously on the man; it therefore concerns them as well upon their husbands as their own account, to abstain even from all appearance of evil, and pro­vide that themselves be (what Caesar is said to have requir'd of his wife) not only without guilt but without scandal also.

17 Another part of the wives duty relates to her husbands fortune, the management whereof is not ordinarily the wives province, but where the husband thinks fit to make it so, she is oblig'd to administer it with her best care and industry; not by any neglect of hers to give others opportu­tunity of defrauding him, yet on the other side not by an immoderate tenacity or griping, to bring upon him and her self the reproch, and which is [Page 178] worse the curse that attends exaction and oppres­sion. But this is not usually the wives field of action, tho he that shall consider the description which Solomon gives of a vertuous wife Prov. 31. will be apt to think her Province is not so narrow and confin'd, as the humor of the age would re­present it. He tells us that she seeks wool and flax, and works diligently with her hands, that she is like the merchants ships, and brings her food from far. That she considers a field and buyes it, and with the fruit of her hands plants a vineyard, &c. And least this should be imagin'd to be the character of a mean country Dame, he addes that her houshold is clothed in scarlet, and that her husband sits among the Elders of the land. It were easy to give instances from history of the advantageous menage and active industry of wives, not only in single persons, but whole Nations. But nothing can be more pregnant, then that among the Romans: in the very height and flourish of the Empire Au­stus himself scare wore any thing but of the Ma­nufacture of his Wife, his Sister, daughters, and nieces, as Suetonius assures us. Should the gay lilies of our fields, which neither sow nor spin, nor gather into barns be exemted from furnishing others, and left to cloth themselves, tis to be doubted they would reverse our Saviors Parallel of Solomons glories, and no beggar in all his rags would be araied like one of these. Luc. 12. 27.

18. But we will be yet more kind, and impose only negative thrift on the wife, not to wast and [Page 179] embezle her husbands estate, but to confine her expences within such limits as that can easily admit; a caution which if all women had observed; many noble families had bin preserv'd, of which there now remains no other memorial but that they sell a sacrifice to the profuse vanity of a woman; and I fear this age is like to provide many more such monuments for the next. Our Ladies, as if they emulated she Roman Luxury (which Se­neca and Pliny describe with so much indignation) do sometimes wear about them the revenues of a rich family; and those that cannot reach to that, shew how much 'tis against their wills they fall lower, by the vast variety and excess of such things as they can possibly compasse; so much ex­travagance not only in their own dress, but that of their houses and apartments, as if their vanity like the Leprosy we read of Lev. 24. had infected the very walls. And indeed 'tis a very spreading fretting one, for the furniture oft consumes the house, and the house consumes the land: so that if som Gentlemen were to calculate their estates, they might reduce all to the inventory of Scopias the Thessalian, who profest his all lay only in such Toies as did him no good. Women are now skillfull Chymists, and can quickly turn their husbands earth into Gold: but they pursue the experiment too far, make that Gold too volatile, and let it all vapor away in insignificant (tho gaudy) trifles.

19. Nor is it ever like to be otherwise with [Page 180] those that immoderatly affect the town, that forge of vanity, which supplies a perpetual spring of new temtations. 'Tis true there are some Ladies who are necessarily engaged to be there: their husbands emploiments orfortuneshave markt that out as their proper station, and where the ground of their stay is their duty, there is more reason to hope it will not betray them to ill, for temtations are most apt to assault stragglers, those that put themselves out of their proper road. And truly I see not who can more properly be said to be so, thenthosewomen whose means of subsistence lies in the Country, and yet will spend it no wherebut at London, which seems to carry something of oppo­sition to Gods providence, who surely never cau­sed their lot to fall, as the Psalmist speaks, in a fair ground, in goodly heritages Psalm. 16. with an intent they should never inhabit them. The 12 tribes of Israel had their peculiar Portions in Ca­naan assign'd them by lot Jos. 14. 2. and every one acquiesced in his part, dwelt in his own inheri­tance: had they bin impatient of living any where but in the Metropolis, had they all crouded to Jerusalem, all the rest of the land would have bin as desolate before the capt [...]ty as it was after; none would havebin left but such as Nabuzaradan permitted to stay Jer. 52. 16. some of the poor to dresse the vines, and to till the ground. And truly the same is like to be the fate of this nation, if this humor goes on as it has begun; which may in time prove as mischievous to the public as it daily is to private families.

[Page 181] 20. But besides this 'tis yet farther to be con­sider'd, that where God gives an estate, he as the supreme landlord affixes something of duty, laies a kind of a rent charge upon it, expects it should maintain both hospitality and charity; and sure both these are fittest to be don upon the place whence the ability of them rises. All public taxes use to be levied where the estate lies, and I know not why these which are Gods assesments upon it, should not be paid there too. When a Gentlemans land becomes profitable unto him by the sweat and labor of his poor neighbors and tenants, twill be a kind of muzling of the ox 1. Cor. 9. 9. if they never tast of the fruit of their pains, if they shall never have the refreshment of a good meal, or an alms; which they are not very like to meet with, if all the profits be sent up to maintain an equi­page, and keep up a parade in town. But alas 'tis often not only the annual profits that go that way, not only the crop, but the soil too; those luxuries usually pray upon the vitals, eat out the very heart of an estate, and many have stay'd in the Town 'till they have nothing left in the country to retire to.

21. Now where this proceeds from the wife, what account can she give to her husband, whose easiness and indulgence (for that must be suppos'd in the case) she has so abus'd? as also to her poste­rity and family who for her pride must be brought low, reduc'd to a conditiod beneath their quality, because she affected to live above it? But she will yet worse answer it to her self, on whom she has [Page 182] brought not only the inconvenience but the guilt. 'Tis sure a lofty mind will feelsmart enough of a fall, a diminution, much more an indigence will be suffi­ciently greivous to a vain and lavish humor; yet here it will farther have an additional sting, from the conscience that she ows it only to her own pride and folly; a most imbittering consideration, and such as advances the affliction beyond that of a more innocent poverty, as much as the pain of an envenom'd arrow exceeds that of another.

22. But the saddest reckoning of all is that which she is to make to God, who has declar'd he hates robbery tho for a burnt offering to himself. How will he then detest this robbery this impo­verishing of the husband, when 'tis only to make an oblation to vanity and excess? It should there­fore be the care of all wives to keep themselves from a guilt for which God and man, yea & them­selves also shall equally accuse them, and to keep their expences within such limits, that as bees suck but do not violate or deface the flowers, so they as joint proprietaries with the husbands, may enjoy but not devour and destroy his fortune.

23. I have now run through the duties to be per­from'd unto the Husband, wherein I have not used the exactness of a casuist in curiously anatomizing every part, and shewing all the most minute parti­culars reducible to each head. I have only drawn out the greater lines, and insisted on those wherein Wives-are most frequently deficient. I shall only add this caution, that whatever is duty to the hus­band [Page 183] is equally so, be he good or ill, the Apostle commands the subjection & fidelity, even to hea­then Husbands, 1 Pet. 3. 12. and 'tis not now their defect, either in Piety or Morality, that can absolve the Wife. For, besides the inconvenience of making her duty precarious & liable to be sub­stracted upon every pretence of demerit, she has by solemn Contract renounc'd that liberty, & in her Marriage-vow taken him for better for worse; & it is too late after Vows to make enquiry, Prov. 20. 25. to seek to break loose from that bond of her Soul; and how uneasie soever the perversness of the husband may render it, he cannot thereby mak it less, but more rewardable by God: for what the Apostle speaks in the case of Servants, is no less ap­pliable to this, 1 Pet. 2. 19. for this is than worthy. if for conscience towards Godye endure grief, suf­fering wrongfully. Whatever duty is perform'd to Man with aspect on God, he owns as to himself; so that how unworthy soever the husband may be the Wife cannot misplace her observance, whilst she finally terminates it on that infinit Goodness and Majesty to whom no love or obedience can be enough.

24. From this relation of a Wife, there ordi­narily springs another, that of a Mother, to which there belongs a distinct duty, which may bebranch­ed into many severals: but I shall at present on­ly reduce them to two Heads Love and Care. A Mother is a title of so much tenderness, that we find it borrowed by our common Dialect to ex­press [Page 184] the most exuberant kindness; nay, even in Sacred Stile it has the same use, and is often set as the highest example our weaknes can comprehend of the Divine Compassions. So that Nature seems sufficienly to have secur'd the love of Mothers to their Children, without the aid of any positive Law; yet we find this (as other Instincts of Na­ture) is somtimes violated, and oftner perverted and applied to mistaken purposes: the first is by a defect of Love; the other, by an imprudent ex­cess of t: the defect does, I presume, more rarely occur then the other; yet it doth sometimes hap­pen, and that either from a morosesowrness of hu­mor, or else from too vehement an intention on somthing else.

25. Some Women have such a ruggedness of na­ture, that they can love nothing; the ugly Passions of Anger and Envy, hav, like Pharaoh's lean Kine, eat up the more amiable, of Love and Joy. Plato was wont to advise crabbed austere tempers, to Sacrifice to the Graces; and such as these had need have a great deal of Christian Philosophy, to allay and sweeten their native Bitterness. But there are others that are not void of the affection of Love, but 'tis forestall'd by some other Object, and so di­verted from their Children; and 'tis a little to be doubted, those Objects which so divert are none of the best, for the Wisdom of God has disposed all duty into such a Harmony and Consent of Parts, that one interferes not with another. If we love no prohibited thing, all the regular Objects of our [Page 185] kindness will agree well enough, and one need ne­ver supplant another. And indeed 'tis oft obser­vable, that those Women who immoderatly love their own Plesures, do lest regard their Children; they look on them as Clogs to keep them within doors, and think their adverting to them, will hin­der their free range abroad; those are turn'd off to the care of a Nurse or Maid, whilst perhaps a Dog or a Monkey is thought worthy their own attend­ance.

26. Plutarch relates it as a Sarcasm of Caesars to some Foreigners whom he saw (at Rome) strangely fond of such little Animals, that he asked them whether the women in their Country had no chil­dren; thereby intimating, how unreasonable it was for those that had, to bestow their Caresses on such Creatures. And surely he would not have gi­ven a milder reprimand to som of our Ladies, who not only please, but pride themselvs in those little Brutes, shew them to all comers, when perhaps you may converse with them divers daies, before you shall, by any mention of theirs, know that they have a Child.

27. To this defect of Love, many are apt to impute the Mothers transferring the Nursing her Child to another. I am not forward to pronounce it, being loth to involve so many as I then must in the imputation of unnaturalness; I rather think it is taken up as a piece of State and Greatness; for no other motive, but what is sounded in their Qua­lity, could so universally prevail with all that are [Page 186] of it. But sure this is one of the vain Punctillio's wherwith this Age abounds; for what-ever rank the Mother is of, the Child carries proportion to it, and there is the same equality between the greatest Lady and her own Child, as is between the meanest Beggar and hers: tho indeed if there were any condescension in it, the aversions of that ought not to outweigh the impulses of Nature, and the many advantages the Child may receive by taking its nourishment whence it derived its substance. And therefore, tho I will not be too po­sitive in asserting the necessity, yet I confess, I can­not but look with reverence upon those few Per­sons of Honor, who have broke through an un­reasonable Custom, and preferred the good of their Children before that fantastic privilege of Great­ness. And such must in all Justice be acknowledg­ed to have given a much better evidence of their love to their Children, then the others.

28. There is in A. Gellius, in his fourteenth book so fine a Discourse on this subject, where Favori­ [...]us the Philosopher is introduced, perswading a Noble Lady, notwithstanding the usual Excuses, to Nurse her Child; that nothing besides the length, could temt me to omit the transcribing it: unless happily the little success, which a Noble Person of the same Sex here concern'd I mean the Countess of Lincoln, in the Ingenious book wrote by her, and call'd her Nursery, be a sufficient ground of despairing to convince by any thing that can be said. However let these delicate ones con­sider [Page 187] the severe words of the Prophet, Lament. 4. 3. The sea monsters draw out the breast, they give suck to their young ones, the daughter of my people is become cruel like the ostrich in the Wilderness, who is hardned against her young ones, as tho they were not hers: her labor is in vain without fear, be­cause God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath he imparted to her understanding, Job. 39. 16.

29. But as there may be a fault in the defect, so there may be also in the excess of love. God is the only unlimited object of our love, towards all others 'tis easy to become inordinate, and in no instance more then in this of children. The love of a parent is descending, and all things move most violently downwards, so that whereas that of chil­dren to their parents commonly needs a spur, this of the parent often needs a bridle, especially that of the Mother, which (by strength of feminine passion) does usually exceed the love of the Fa­ther. Now to regulate this affection, she is to advert to these two rules, first that she hurt not her self by it, and secondly that she hurt not her children: of the first she is in danger if she suffer that humane affection to swell beyond its banks, so as to come in any competition with the Divine, this is to make an Idoll of her child; for every thing is so to us, which rivals the love of God in our hearts, and he who owns the title of a jealous God, may be provoked as well by the bowing our souls to a living image, as the prostration of our bodies to a dead. Accordingly we oft see the effects of his jea­lousy [Page 188] in this particular, the doting affection of the mother is frequently punish with the untimely death of the Children, or if not with that 'tis many times with a severer scourge: they live (but as it was foretold to Eli▪ 1 Sam. 2. 33.) to grieve her eies and to consume her heart, to be ruinous to themselves, and afflictions to their friends, and to force their unhappy mothers to that sad acclamati­on Lu. 23. 29. Blessed are the wombs which bare not

30. And as this proves often true, when the dotage is generall upon all the children, so does oftner when 'tis more partial and fixt upon any one; that darling which she makes the only object of her joy usually becomes that of her sorrow. It is an ordinary infirmity in Parents toheap all their kindness upon one, to the defrauding of the rest, and too many times upon very undue motives: a little excelling in point of beauty turns the scales, when perhaps many more solid excellencies are the counterpoise. And surely this is not only unjust but irrational in the parent: for all peculiarity of favor in a superior, should be dispenc'd either by way of reward or encouragement; and neither of those ends can take place where 'tis only the out­ward form that is consider'd, for that cannot be rewardable, to which the party has contributed nothing, and the Psalmist will tell us that tis God▪ that hath made us and not we our selves Psalm. 100. 2. and as little room is there for the other end, that of encouragement. For as our Savior tells us Ma. 6. none can adde a cubit to his statute, [Page 189] nor make one hair white or black: 'tis certain themselves cannot really doe either, tho by the aid of artificial hypocrisy they frequently appear to do both; but those are arts which neither de­serve nor want encouragment, the natural beauty must have its increase from the same source whence it derived its being: there is therefore no reasonable account to be given why a child should be preferr'd for any such exterior excellency.

31. The only justifiable ground of partiality to children is their vertue, for to that their own choice concurs, and so may intitle them to re­ward, and 'tis also in their power to advance, and so encouragements are not cast away upon them: nay the influences of those may extend farther, and provone a vertuous emulation in the rest; but then the Mother must so manage it, as to evidence that 'tis no inequallity in her own inclination, but meerly the force of the others desert, not the per­son but the goodness, that biasses her, and when vertue is known to be the only ingratiating qua­lity, they will at once learn the way to become hers & Gods favourites. And unless it be upon this one design, 'tis a very unsafe thing for a parent to make any partial discrimination among children, which is sure to tempt the more neglected both to repine at her, and envy her darlings; and often­times such seeds of rancor have bin by that means sowed in children, as have bin hard to eradicate in their riper years. Nor is the mifchief less which she does to her fondlings, who besides that they [Page 190] are expos'd to the malice of the rest, are usually spoild by it, made insolent & untractable perhaps their whole lives after, for where the mothers affe­ction is unbridled, commonly the childs will is so too, her fondness superseding that discipline and correction, which should, as the wise man speaks; bow down its neck from its youth.

32. And the like may be said where the indul­gence is more universal to all the Children, which is in one respect worse then the partial, because it spoils more, not one or two but all the brood. The doting love of a mother blinds her eyes, that she cannot see their faults, manacles her hands that she cannot chastise them, and so their vices are permitted to grow up with themselves: as their joints knit and gather strength, so do their ill habits, 'till at last they are confirm'd into an ob­stinacy; so setting them in a perfect opposition to to that pattern they should imitate, for as Christs childhood increast in wisdom, and the divine favor, Lu. 2. so do theirs in all those provoking follies, which may avert both the love of God and man. And alas what recompence can the little blandish­ments and caresses of a mother make her children, for such important such inestimable mischiefs? So that she that will be really kind must temper her indulgence with a prudent severity, or els she eminently violates the second rule, by which she should regulate her love, and does that to her children which Jocob fear'd from his father Gen. 27. brings a curse upon them and not a blessing.

[Page 191] 33. Indeed the best way of approving their love, is by well discharging the other branch of their duty, that of care; without this all the most passionate rapturesof kindness, are but an airy ap­parition, a fantastic scene, and will no more ad­vantage a child, then the whole shambles in pi­cture can feed and nurish it. Now this care is not a temporary, momentary duty, for some one criti­cal instant, but is to attend the child through the several stages of its minority, viz. Infancy, child­hood, and youth. The very first part of their in­fancy is a season only for those cares which con­cern their bodies, providing for their careful at­tendance, and all other things conducing to the strengthening their constitutions, and laying a foundation for future health and vigor; which is their interest not only upon a bodily, but upon an intellectual account, the good temperature of the body being a great aid towards the free operations of the mind. And therefore Socrates and other Phi­losophers much recommend to their disciples the care of health, as that which freed the soul from many incumbrances in its pursuit of knowledg: and it was the comprehensive praier of the Poet, that the Gods would grant a sound mind in a healthful Body.

34. But this health is not always the consequent of a very nice and tender breeding but is very oft overthrown by it; and if Ladies could but find in their hearts to try it, they would, I doubt not, find, that the inuring them to moderate hardships, [Page 192] would much more conduce to the establishing and fortifying their constitutions.

35. Beyond all this, the care for their exterior is soon overtaken by a more important one, that of their interior, in the timing of which there seems to be a very common mistake in the World. We look upon the seven Years or infancy, as the life meerly of an Animal, to be spent only in the En­tertainments of sense; and as we use not to yoak Calves, or back young Colts, so we think our chil­dren are for a while to be left at the same liberty; to have no restraint put on any of their Passions. Nay many times we excite & foment them, teach Children to be angry and envious, proud and sul­len, as if we fear'd their Natural Propensions to all these were too faint, and wanted the help of In­stitutions. But surely this is a great and pernicions error, and this supposing Children to be so long Brutes, is the way to make them so longer. The Patrons of Atheism make it a most constant To­pic in the disparagement of Religion, that 'tis ow­ed to the prejudices infused in the first infancy: 'twer to be wisht, that this Objection might so far be complied with, that the fear of God, the love of Vertue, and hatred of Vice, might have the first possession of the Soul; and they be made to moderate their Passions, as soon as they are in a capacity to have them excited and engaged.

36. And truly, if we will observe it, we may see very early dawnings of reason in Infants, which would sooner come to a brightness, if we would [Page 193] betimes set to the scattering of those Passions which eclipse and darken it. A Child will quickly be taughtto knowwhat pleases ordispleases a Parent, and by a very little tast of reward or punishment, will learn to do the one, and avoid the other: and when this is don, the Parent has gain'd the funda­mental Point, That of obedience; and may super­struct on it what she pleases, & then 'tis her fault if the Child be not by easie and insensible degrees moulded into a right form. 'Tis at first all one to the Child, whether he name God in an Oath or in his Praiers; but a Mother by punishing the one, and rewarding the other, will quickly bring him to know there is a difference, and so proportionably in other instances. As to the way of discipline, it may not be amiss to observe, that when thereis oc­casion for severity, 'tis better to awe by actual pu­nishment then terror, and never to make use of in­finite and invisible affrightments, the beloved me­thods of Nurses and Servants, such as are the me­nacing of Sprights and Mormo's, and leaving in the dark; that frequently make dastardly & timerous impressions, which a long Age scarcely wears off.

37. A sober sense of things, is to be impressed by treatable means, and this will be don with most ease, both to the Parent and Child, the sooner tis set upon. The will of a tender Infant, is like its Limbs, supple and pliant, but time confirms it, and custom hardens it; so 'tis a cruel Indulgence to the poor Creature, to let it contract such habits, which must cost him so dear the breaking; or dearer, i [...] [Page 194] never broken. And if this early care be taken of the Infancy, 'twill much ease the next part, that of the Childhood; for where the Iron sinew in the neck is broken, where the native stubbornness is subdued so early, the yokewill sit easie, all succeed­ing parts of discipline will comewith more facility and profit. The care proper to this Age, is, the instructing in all parts of useful Knowledg, of which, as the Divine for the excellency both of its nature and its end, must be first ranked, so should it be first and most industriously cultivated, and by all endearing methods imprest, not only on the under­standing, but the heart. Piety and Virtue should be propos dasthemost amiable, as well as necessary things, and they would be invited not only to know, but love them.

38. This part of Learning is equally competent to both Sexes, and therefore, when the Sons are removed from under the Mothers tuition, and sent to more public places of erudition, her Provinceis still the same as to her Daughter▪ to whom she shouldnot only Preach, but exemp [...]ifieit inher own practice, no Precepts penetrating so much into Youth, as those that are so inforc'd. And in order to this, I should commend to Mothers, the being as much with them as they can, and taking the per­sonal Inspection of them; not to turn them off wholly to Servants, no nor yet Governesses, but frequently themselves to examin how they proceed in the speculative part of Knowledg, and no less frequently exhort them to the practic.

[Page 195] 39. Marcus Cato would not let his Son learn of his Slave, as disdaining a Child should owe so considerable a benefit to so servile a person; and if he thought the meer teaching of Grammar, too great a charge for such a one, surely the whole In­stitution of Youth is a much greater, it being that on which, not only a few outward Accomplish­ments, but even their Eternity depends. The great Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi, and Aurelia the Mother of Augustus, thought it worth their pains to be Governesses. And the truth is, the Soul of a Child is a little too precious a Trust to commit wholy to the diligence & care of a mercinary ser­vant; or if they happen not to want those Quali­fications, yet 'tis very possible they may Prudence, of which there is no small degree requisite to the Instructing of Youth, too great a remissness or se­verity being equally destructive in that affair. And indeed, besides this immediate, there are some o­ther collateral Benefits consequent to the Mothers performing that Office, 'twill bring her and her Children into an intimacy and conversation, give her an acquaintance with their several Capacities and Humors; for want of which, many Parents have erred in their Conduct, one sort of Treatment being not fit for all Children; and the distinguish­ing that depending wholy on their discerning their particular Tempers, which cannot well be don with­out-som converse with them.

40. Besides by this they will be witnesses how they dispose their time, that they neither lose it [Page 196] by doing nothing, nor yet mis-employ it by doing ill. And indeed there is scarce any part of the pa­rents care more important then this, idlenessbeing no farther removed from vice, then a cause is from its immediate effect. Therefore if children be per­mitted to trifle avay their time, they will soon learn to trifle avay their innocence also: so that 'tis highly necessary that they be provided of a succes­sion of emploiments, that by the variety they may be insensibly drawn on: nay methinkes, it might verywell be contrived that their recreationsmight somtimes consist of such ingenious exercises, that they may at once both play and learn.

41. There is yet another good effect of the mo­thers presence with the children (which is perhaps no less material then any of the former) 'tis, that by this associating them with her self, she prevents the danger of worse society. Children if the pa­rents allow them not their company, are necessa­rily cast upon that of servants, than which there is scarce a greater danger that attends youth; for be­sides that that low sort of converse debases their minds, makes them mean and sordid, it often corrupts their manners too; children usually not receiving more pestilent infusions from any then such. Servants that desire to ingratiate themselvs, and having no laudable quality whereby to do it, must first endeavor to ingratiate vice to them, and then by their officious ministries in that, have a ready way of introducing themselves into favor. Perhaps this will be thought to concern only the [Page 197] masculin part of children, and that the female who are commonly in a distinct appartment, and con­verse only with their own sex, are more secure. But I would not advise mothers to depend too much on that, for they are no surer that their daughters shall not converse with men, nay men of the meaner sort too, then that their maids and attendants shall notdo so; and when 'tis consider'd, how apt those are to entertain, if not to invite amours, 'tis not very probable the rooms where they quarter shallbe inaccessible to those they affect. And it were much safer for children to bee in the most public concourse of m [...]n, then to be witnesses and observers of the private intrigues of such lo­vers; the memories of youth are very tenacious, & if they once be tainted with any indecent thing will be apt to recollect it, 'till at last perhaps they come to transcribe it. 'Tis therefore in this respecta very useful part of the Mothers care, to make her self company to her daughters, to prevent the dan­gers of a more unequal and infectious converse.

42. But if this be useful in childhood, 'tis no less then necessary in the next period of their time, when they arrive neer the growth and age of wo­men: then indeed the mother should not only make them her companions, but her friends, allow them such a kind, yet modest, freedom, that they may have a complacence in her company, and not be temted to seek it among their inferiors; that the belief of her kindnes may supplant the pretensions of those meane [...] sycophants, who by litle flatteries [Page 198] endeavor to seru themselves into their good opi­nion, & become their confidents; then which there is nothing more mischievous, those private ca­balls that are held with such, serving only to reader them mutinous against their parents: these family incendiaries like those in the state and church, still inculcating the one grand principle of Liberty, a word so charming to our depraved na­ture, and especially to youth, that they should not be trusted with such Lectures. Besides those intimacies are often introductions toworse; many scandalous amours and unequal matches having had their rise from them. It should therefore be the business of Mothers to prevent all such pernicious leagues, by preingaging them in more safe fami­liarities, either with her self, or some other, of whose vertue she has reason to be confident.

43. But the most infallible security against this & all other mischeifs is the bringing them in­to an intimacy and conversation with their maker, by fixing a true sense of Religion in their hearts, if that can be effectually don, twill supersede all other expedients. She that duely considers she is allwaies in Gods presence, will want no other in­spector; nor will she much need monitors, who attends to the advices of her own conscience. Nei­ther will it only tend to the securing her innocence but her reputation too; it being one part of the Christian law to abstain from all appearance of evil 1. Thess. 22. to do things that are of good report Phil. 4. 8. so that piety is the [...] compleat armor [Page 199] to defend both their vertu and fame. And 'tis ex­tremely necessary they should be furnisht with it, at this Age especially, when they do at first enter into the World, which we may well look on as a taking the Field, considering how many assaults they are there like to meet with; and if they go without this Armature, they may, none knows how soon, be incurably wounded, of which there want not many sad instances, some whereof might probably have bin prevented, had the Parent ta­ken care to have better fortified them.

44. And indeed tis not a little sad to see how much this their most important concern is neglected. Ma­ny mothers who are nicely curious in other parts of their daughters breeding, are utterly inconsi­derate of this; they must have all civil Accom­plishments, but no Christian. Those are excluded out of the scheme of Education, & by that means lye under the prejudice of being not only unneces­sary, but ungentile, below the regard of Persons of Quality. 'Tis much to be fear'd, that this neg­lect toward their children, is founded in a previ­ous contemt of Piety in themselves, yet I suppose 'tis often increas'd by a little Vanity they have of seeing them excel in som of those exterior quali­ties, which may recommend them to the humor of the World upon the improving whereof they are so intent, that more material things are overlookt; and when those are acquired, the pride of shewing them betrays them to other in onveniencies. The mother oft not only permits, but incites the daugh­ter to the oportunities of boasting her excellencies [Page 200] sends her so oft abroad on that design, that at last perhaps she cannot when she would keep her at home, as I believe too many have found experi­mentally true. In a word, this Interval between Childhood & Majority, is the most Critical point of a Womans Life, and therefore should be the most nicely and warily attended; and a mother had need summon not only all her care and diligence, but her prudence too, well to discharge this part of her Obligation.

45. I shall not insist more minutely upon Parti­culars: I have in the former Section spoken some­what of what 'tis fit these young Virgins should do and avoid, and whatever by that, or by any more exact rule appears their interest or duty; 'tis the Mothers to see it be not neglected by them: but where Kindness alone will not prevail to employ their autority too, and by a discreet mixture of each, secure their observance by both the tenures of Love and Reverence. Yet I shall a little reflect upon one particular I mention'd before I mean that of Marrying wher they have aversion, which tho I there charg'd as the crime of the Daughter▪ yet I must here say the Original, and more inex­cusable guilt is usually in the Parents, who are sometimes such Idolaters to Wealth and Honor, that they Sacrifice their Children to them; a more barbarous Immolationthen that to Moloch; for tho that were very inhumane, yet it had this alleviati­on, that the pain was short: but a loathed Bed is at once an acute and a lingring Torment, nay, not [Page 201] only so, but a temtation too; so that 'tis a Tyranny of a most unlimited kind, extends its Effects even to Eternity; and sure that Mother must have very petrified Bowels, have lost all Natural Compassi­on, that can so impose on her Child.

46. I shall add no more concerning this relation of a Mother, but only one short advice, That those who groan under the frustration of their hopes, whose Children by any scandulous misbe­havior become Objects of their shame and grief, would soberly consider, whether it have not bin som way owing to themselves, either by neglect in their Education, or by their own ill Example: 'Tis usually one, and sometimes both. They that upon recollection can assure themselvs 'tis neither, may bear the Affliction with much the greater cheerfulness; but they that cannot, I am sure ought to bear it with much the more patience & submis­sion, take it as Gods Lecture of Repentance, and look on their Childrens faults as the product of their own. And because Satisfaction is an indispen­sible part of Repentance, they are with their ut­most industry to endeavor the repairing those ru­ins they have made, by recalling those to Virtu, who by their means have straied from it. Tis true, the errors of Education, like a subtile Poison, do so mix with the Blood, so incorporate into the Hu­mors and Manners, that twill be very difficult to allay their Effects; and therefore the less they are themselves able to do towards it, the more ear­nestly they must importune a Higher Power. He [Page 202] who divided the Light from the Darkness, can se­parate the Effects from the Causes; and as he re­strained the natural property of Fire, in the case of the three Children, Dan. 3. so He only can rescu theirchildren from that destruction to which their negligence has exposed them. But as to the influ­ence their example has had, theymay do somthing towards the redress of that, by setting them a new Copy, making their own change so visible, so re­markable, that they mayhave the very same means of reclaiming, which there was of seducing them. And this is a peice of Justice, which seems to call aloud upon many Mothers. The irregularities of Youth could hardly have grown to the present height, had they not received warmth and shelter from the practice of their Elders, which does at once give incouragement & take of restraints, the Mother loses not only her Autority, but her con­fidence to admonish or reprove. With what face can she require that strict and severe modesty of a young Girl, which she who should be a Matron will not practise? or tye up the giddy wandring humor of Youth, within those bounds she thinks too strait for her own? and how ready a retortion will even Scripture it self afford for such an Impo­ser? Thou that teachest another, teachest thou not thy self? Rom. 2. 21. Let it therefore be the care of all Mothers to live a perpetual Lecture to their Children, so to exemplifie to them all Virtu and Piety, that they may contribute somthing to their Spiritual, as wel as their natural life, that however [Page 203] they may at least deliver their own souls, and not have their childrens guilt recoile upon them as the unhappy originalls of it.

47. The last relation of a married woman is that of a Mistriss, the inspection of the family being usually her Province; and tho she be not supreme [...]here, yet she is to improve her delegated auto­rity to the advantage of all under it; and her [...]nore constant residence gives her more opportu­nities of it, then the frequent avocations of the husband will perhaps allow him. St. Paul sets it as the calling, and the indispensible duty of the Married women, that they guide the house, 1 Tim. 5. 18. not thinking it a point of greatness to remit the manage of all domestic concerns to a merci­nary house-keeper. And indeed since it has bin a fashionable thing for the Master to resign up his concerns to the steward, and the Lady hers to the Governant, it has gon ill with most great Fami­lies, whilst these Officers serve themselves instead of those who employ them, raise fortunes on their Patrons ruines, and divide the spoil of the fa­mily, the house-keeper pilfering within doores, and the Bailiff plundering without.

48. Now to the well guiding of the house by the mistress of it, I know no better or more compre­hensive rule, then for her to endeavor to make all that are hers to be Gods servants also; this will secure her of all those intermedial qualifications in them in which her secular interest is concerned, their own consciences being the best spy she can [Page 204] set upon them, as to their truth and fidelity, and the best spur also to diligence and industry. But to the making them such, there will need first in­struction, and secondly discipline. It is a necessary part of the rulers care to provide that none in their family should want means of necessary instruction. I doe not say that the Mistress should set up for a catechist, or preacher; but that they take order they should be taught by those who are qualified for the emploiment. And that their furnishing them with knowledg, may not serve only to help them to a greater number of stripes, Luk. 12. 47. they are to give them the opportunities of consecrating it to prayer & devotion, to that end to have public divine offices in the family; and that not by starts or accidents (when a devouter guest is to be en­tertained, and laid by when a prophane) but dai­ly and regularly, that the hours of praiers may be fixt and constant as those of meals, and (if it may possibly be) as much frequented; however that toward it she give both precept and example.

49. A Christian family should be the Epitome of a Church; but alas how many among us lye un­der a perpetual Interdict, & yet not from the usur­pation of any forreign power, but from the irreli­gion of the domestic. One may go into divers great families, and after some stay there, not be able to say that the name of God was mentioned to any other purpose than that of blasphemy and execra­tion, nor a text of scripture unless in burlesque & prophane Drolery. And sure we need not wonder [Page 205] at the universal complaint that is now made of ill servants, when we reflectupon this ill government of families. They that are suffer'd wholy to forget their duties toward God, wil not alwais remember it towards man. Servants are not such Philosophers that upon the bare strength of a few moral instincts they will be vertuous, & if by a customary neglect of all things sacred, they are once taught to look at nothing beyond this world, they will often find temtation enough here to discard their honesty, as the most unthriving trade. And indeed when the awe of religion is quite taken off from the vulgar, there will scarce any thing else be found to keep them within any tolerable bounds; so that 'tis no less impolitic then prophane to slacken that reine.

50. But it is not only the interest, but the duty of all that have families, to keep up the esteem and practice of Religion in them. 'Twas one of the greatest endearments of Abraham to God, that he would command his houshold to keep the way of the Lord Gen. 18. 19. And Joshua undertakes no less for the piety of his houshold then himself, as for me and my house we will serve the Lord Jos. 24 [...] And sure 'tis but reasonable, that where we our selves owe an homage, we should make all our dependents acknowledg the same. Besides, it is a justice in respect of them; for where we entertain a servant, we take the whole person into our care and protection, and are salse to that undertaking if we suffer his soul the most precious part of him to perish; and God who keeps account even of his [Page 206] meanest creatures, will not patiently resent such a neglect of those who bear his own Image, and were ransomed with as great a price as their Masters were, for there is no respect of persons with God Eph. 6. 6.

51. But when Piety is planted in a family, 'twill soon wither, if it be not kept in vigor by Disci­pline: nay indeed, to have servants seemingly devout in the oratory, and yet really licentious out of it, is but to convert ones house into a Thea­ter, have a play of religion, and keep a set of actors only to personate and represent it. 'Tis therefore necessary to inquire how they behave themselves when they are off the stage, whether those hands which they elevate in praier, are at other times industriously appli'd to work; or those mouths wherewith they there bless God, are not else where filled with oaths and curses, scurrilities and revilings; in a word, whether that form of Godliness be not design'd in commutation for so­briety and honesty. Indeed the governors of fa­milies ought to make a strict inspection into the [...]anners, of their servants, & where they find them good to affix som special mark of favor, by which they may both be encouraged to persevere and o­thers to begin; butwher they discern them vicious there as eminently to discountenance, severely to admonish them, and use all fit means for their re­claiming, and when that seems hopeless, to dis­miss them that they may not infect the rest. A little leven saith the Apostle leveneth the whole lump, [Page 207] Gal. 5. 9. and one ill servant (like a perisht tooth) will be apt to corrupt his fellows. 'Tis therefore the same in families that it is in more public com­munities, where severity to the ill is mercy and protection to the rest; and were houses thus early weeded of all idle and vicious persons, they would not be so overgrown, nor degenerate into such rude wildernesses, as many (nay I fear most) great families now are.

52. But as servants are not to be tolerated in the neglect of their duty, so neither are they to be defeated of any of their dues. Masters are to give to their servants that which is just and equal, Col. 4. 1. And sure, 'tis but just and equal that they who are rational creatures should not be treated with the rigor or contemt of brutes: a sufficient & decent provision, both in sickness and in health, is a just debt to them, besides an exact performance of those particular contracts upon which they were entertain'd. Laban had so much of natural justice, that he would not take the advantage of Jacobs relation to him, to make him serve him gr [...] ­tis, Because thou art my brother shouldst thou the [...] ­fore serve me for nought? tel me therefore what shall thy wages be? Gen. 29, 15. But alas now a daies where servants have bin told, nay expresly arti­cled for their wages, 'tis with many no easy thing to get it: nay 'tis thought by som Masters an in­solence, a piece of ill manners to demand it; and when they have worn out a servant, they either pay him not at all, or with the same protraction [Page 208] and regret, which they do their Tailors for the old clothes they have cast off. I fear there are many in­stances of this, especially among great persons, it being a received mode with too many of them to pay no debts to those who are too mean to contest with them. But however they may ruffle it out with men, it will one day arraign them before God as most injurious oppressors; there being no crime of that kind more frequently or severely brand­ed in Scripture, then this of detention of the wa­ges of the servant and hireling. Besides, this exam­ples of injustice, wherein the servant is passive, is often transcrib'd by him in acts of fraud and de­ceit, and he is apt to think it but an equal retaliati­on, to break his trust where the Master breaks his covenant, and when he once attemts to be his own pay-master, 'tis not to be doubted but he will al­low himself large use▪ for the forbearance of his wages; so that the course is no less unprofitable to the Master then unjust and dishonorable.

53. I am not sure 'tis alwaie's in the wives power to prevent this or any of the former faults [...] the menage of the family. For her authority be­ing but subordinat, if the husband who is supreme suspend her power, he does by that vacating her rule take off the duty consequent to it; so that what I have said can be obligatory to none that are so impeded: but to those who either can do it themselves, or perswade their husbands to it, the omission will be their sin, all the profaneness and disorder of the family will be charg'd upon their account, if it came by their default.

[Page 209] 54. And this methinks is a consideration that may much mortify one usual peice of vanity, I mean that of a multitude of servants. We shall all of us find burden enough of our own personal miscarriages, and need not contrive to fetch in more weight from others. And in families 'tis ge­nerally observable, that the bigger they are the worse; vice gains boldness by numbers, is hatcht up by the warmth of a full society; and we daily see people venture upon those enormities in con­sort and in a croud. which they would not dare did they think they stood single. Besides the wider the province is, the more difficult it is well to admini­ster it; and in a heap of servants many faults will scape undiscern [...]d, especially, considering the com­mon confederacy there is usually amongthem, for the eluding of discipline: so that what the wiseman speaks of not desiring a multitude of unprofitable children, I think may very well be appli'd to ser­vants, whose unprofitableness usually increases together with their number. I have now run through these several obligations consequent to the maried state, wherein even upon this very cursory view, there appears so many particulars, that if they were all duly attended, Ladies need not be much at a loss how to entertain themselvs; nor run abroad in a Romantic quest after forreign divertisements, when they, have such variety of engagements at home.

SECT. III. Of Widows.

1. THE next state which can succeed to that of Marriage is Widowhood, which tho it supersedes those duties which were terminated meerly in the person of the husband, yet it en­dears those which may be paid to his ashes. Love is strong as death, Cant. 8. 6. and therefore when it is pure and genuine cannot be extinguisht by it, but burns like the funeral lamps of old, even in vaults and charnel houses, the conjugal love trans­planted into the grave (as into a finer mould) im­proves into piety, and laies a kind of sacred obli­gation upon the widow to perform all offices of respect and kindness which his Remains are ca­pable of.

2. Now those Remains are of three sorts, his body his memory, and his children. The most pro­per expession of her love to the first, is in giving it an honorable Enterrment; I mean not such as may vye with the Poland extravagance (of which 'tis observed that two or three neer succeeding fu­neralls ruin the family) but prudently proportio­n'd to his quality & fortune, so that her zeal to his Corps may not injure a nobler relique of him, his Children. And this decency is a much better in­stance [Page 211] of her kindness, then all those Tragical Fu­ries wherwith som. Women seem transported to­wards their dead Husbands, those frantick Em­braces and caresses of a Carcass, which betray a little too much the sensuality of their Love. And it is somthing observable, that those vehement Passions quickly exhaust themselvs, and by a kind of Sympathetic Efficacy as the Body (on which their assection was fixt) moulders, so does that al­so, nay often it attends not those lesurely degrees of dissolution, but by a more precipitate motion seems rather to vanish then consume.

3. The more valuable Kindness therefore, is that to his Memory, endeavoring to embalm that, keep it from perishing; and by this innocent Magic (as the Egyptians were wont by a more guilty) she may converse with the dead, represent him so to her own thoughts, that his life may still be repeat­ed to her: and as in a broken Mirror the refraction multiplies the Images, so by his dissolution every hour presents distinct Ideas of him; so that she sees him the oftner, for his being hid from her eies But as they use not to Embalm without Odors, so she is not only to preserve, but perfume his Memory, render it as fragrant as she can; not only to her self but others; by reviving the remembrance of what­ever was praise-worthy in him, vindicating him from all calumnies and false accusations, and sti­fling (or allaying) even true ones as much as she can. And indeed, a widow can no way better pro­vide for her own honor, then by this tenderness of her Husbands.

[Page 212] 4. Yet there is another expression of it, infe­rior to none of the former, and that is, the setting such a valu upon her relation to him, as to do no­thing unworthy of it. 'Twas the dying charge of Augustus to his Wife Livia, Behave thy self well, and remember our Marriage. And she who has bin Wife to a Person of Honor, must so remember it as not to do any thing below her self, or which he (could he have foreseen it) should justly have bin ashamed of.

5. The last Tribute she can pay him is in his children. These he leaves as his Proxies to receive the kindness of which himself is uncapable; so that the Children of a Widow may claim a double portion of the Mothers love, one upon their Na­tive right, as hers; the other, as a bequest in right of their dead Father. And indeed, since she is to supply the place of both Parents, 'tis but necessary she should put on the affections of both, and to the tenderness of a Mother, adde the care and conduct of a Father. First, in a sedulous care of their E­ducation: and next, in the prudent managery of their Fortu [...]e; an order that is somtimes unhappi­ly inverted, and Mothers are so concern'd to have the Estate prosper in their tuition, that the Chil­dren cannot; whilst (by an unseasonable frugality) to save a little expence, they deny them the advan­tages of an Ingenious and Gentile Breeding, swell their Estates perhaps to a vast bulk, but so contract and narrow their minds, that they know not how to dispose them to any real benefit of themselves [Page 213] or others. And this is one of the most pernicious Parsimonies imaginable, a Mother by this seems to adopt the Fortune, and abdicate the Child, who is only made the Beast tobear those loads of Wealth she will lay on, and which she evidently owns as the greatest Tresure, since in tenderness to that she neglects him.

6. Yet somtimes the same Effect springs from another Cause, and Children are ill bred, not be­cause the Mother grudges the charge, but out of a Feminine fondness, which permits her not to part with them to the proper places for their educati­on; like Jacob to Benjamin, her Soul is so bound up in them, that she cannot lend them a while even to their own most necessary concerns; and this, tho not so ignoble a motive as the other, is of no less mischief, at least to her Sons, who being by it con­fin'd to home, are consequently condemn'd to be poyson'd (if with nothing else, yet) with the flat­teries of Servants and Tenants, who think those the best expedient to secure their own station. And with these the young Master or Landlord is so blown up, that as if his Manors were the confines of the World, he can look at nothingbeyond them; so that when at last he breaks loose from his Mo­thers arms, and comes abroad, he expects scarce to find his Equals, much less his Betters; thinks he is still to receive the samefawning Adorations which he was used to at home: and being possest with this insolent expectation, he will scarce be undeceived, but at the price of many Affronts, nay, perhaps he [Page 214] may buy his experience with the loss of his life; by his ill maners draw on a Quarrel, wherein he fi­nally perishes. That this is no impossible Supposi­tion, some unhappy Mothers have found to their unspeakable affliction.

7. 'Tis not to be denied, but there are also dan­gers consequent to the breeding Children abroad, Vice having insinuated it self even into the places of Erudition, and having not only as many, but the very same Academies with Vertu & Learning; so that the extreme depravation of the times new states the Question, and we are not to consider which is best, but which is theleast ill disposure of Children. And in that competition sure the home Education will be cast; for there they may suck in all the Venom, and nothing of the Antidote; they will not only be taught base things, but (as I before observ'd) by the basest Tutors, such as will add all the mostsordid circumstances to the improving of a Crime. Whereas abroad they are first not like to meet with any whose interest is so much to make them Vicious: And secondly, they may (as ill as the world is) meet with many who may give them both Precepts & Examples of a better kind. Besides, the Discipline used in those Communi­ties makes them know themselves; and the va­rious sorts of Learning they may acquire, will not only prove usefuldivertisement (the wantofwhich is the great spring of mischeif) but will, if rightly apply'd, furnish them with Ingenious & Vertuous principles, such as may set them above all vile & [Page 215] ignoble practises. So that there seems a conspira­tion of motives to wrest the child from the reluct­ing mother, & to perswade her for a while to deny her self that desire of her eies, that so he may at last answer the more rational desire of her heart.

8. As to the other part of her obligation, the managing of their fortune, there is the same rule for her as for all other persons that have a Trust, viz. to do as for themselves; that is, with the same care and diligence (if not a greater) as in her own peculiar concern. I do not say that she shall con­found the property, and make it indeed her own by applying it to her particular use. A thing I fear which is too often don, especially by the gayer sort of widows, who to keep up their own equi­page, do somtimes incroach upon their sons pecu­liar, & I wish even that (tho bad enough) were the only case wherein it were don. But 'tis sometimes to make her a better prize to a second husband: she goes into another family, and as if she were a Colony sent out by her son, he must pay for the planting her there; indeed the oft repeating this injury, has advanc't it now into a custom, and the management of the minors estate is reckon'd on as part of the widows fortune. But I confess I see not what there is in the title of a mother, that can legitimate her defrauding her child; it rather enve­noms the crime and adds unnaturalness to deceit. Besides 'tis a preposterous sort of guilt. Orphans and Widows are in Scripture link't together as objects of Gods and good mens pitty, and of ill [Page 216] mens oppression, and how ill alas does civill war look among fellow sufferers; the Widow to injure the orphan is like that uncouth oppression Solomon speaks of Prov. 28. 3. Apoor man that oppresseth the poor, is like a sweeping rain which leaveth no food. Such kind of rapins are as excessive in their degree as prodigious in their kind, and I believe there are many instances of sons, who have suffer'd more by the guardianship of their Mothers, then they could probably have don by the outrage of Strangers.

9. How well such Mothers answer their obliga­tions to their dead Husbands, I must leave it to their own consciences to discuss: I shall only offer them these steps of gradation by which to proceed. First, that injustice of any sort is a great sin; se­condly that when 'tis in a matter of trust tis com­plicated with treachery also, thirdly that of all trusts those to the dead have allwaies bin esteem'd the most sacred: if they can find any allay to these by the two remaining circumstances, that tis the trust of a husband, and the interest of a child, I shall confess them very subtil casuists.

10. I have hitherto spoke of what the widow ows to her dead husband; but there is also some­what of peculiar obligation in relation to her self. God who has pla [...]d us in this World to pursue the interests of a better, directs all the signal acts of his providence to that end, and intends we should so interpret them. So that every great change that occurs, is design [...]d either to recall us from a wrong way, or to quicken our pace in the right, and a [Page 217] widow may more then conjecture, that when God takes away the mate of her bosome, reduces her to a solitude, he does by it sound a retreat from the lighter jollities and gaieties of the world. And as in compliance with civill custom she immures her self, sits in darkness for a while; so she should put on a more retir'd temper of mind, a more strict and severe behavior, and that not to be cast off with her veil, but to be the constant dress of her widowhood. Indeed that state as it requires a great sobriety and piety, so it affords many ad­vantages towards it: the Apostle tells us, that she who is married careth for the things of the World how she may please her husband 1 Cor 7. 34. There are many things which are but the due compli­ances of a wife, which yet are great avocations, & interrupters of a strict devotion; when she is ma­numitted, from that subjection, when she has less of Martha's care of serving, she is then at liberty to chose Mary's part, Luk. 10. 42. She has her time and her fortune at her own command, and conse­quently may much more abound in the works both of piety and charity. We find God himself re­trench the wive's power of binding her own soul Num. 30. Her vows were totally insignificant with­out her husbands confirmation; but the widow might devote her self to what degree she pleas'd, her piety has no restraint from any other incon­sistent obligation, but may swell as high as it can. Those hours which were before her husbands right seem now to devolve on God the grand proprietor [Page 218] of our time: that discourse and free converse wherewith she entertain'd him, she may now convert into colloquies and spiritual entercourse with her maker; and that love which was only human before, by the change of its object ac­quires a sublimity, is exalted into divine; from loial duty and conjugal affection becomes the eternal work and happiness of Angels, the ardor of a Cherubim. Thus may she in a [...]gher sense verify Sampsons riddle, Judg. 14. fetch hony out of a carcasse, make her husbands Ashes (like those of the heifer under the law, Heb. 9. 13.) her Purification; his corruption may help to put on incorruption, and her loss of a temporary comfort may instate her in an eternal.

11. And as her self so her fortune may also be consecrated; and indeed if she be, that will also If she have made an escape out of Egypt, there shall not a hoof be left behind her, Exod. 10. 26. No part of her possessions will be assign'd to vanity and exccss. She who hath really devoted her self to Piety, fasted and praied with Anna Luk. 2. 37. will also be full of good works & alms-deeds with Tabitha, Act. 9. 36. Thus she may be a mother when she ceases to bear; and tho she no more increase one family, she may support many; and certainly the fertility of the womb, is not so valuable as this of the bowels. Fruitfulness can be but a happiness, Compassion is a vertue. Nay indeed 'tis a greater and more certain happi­ness; a child is not brought forth but with pangs & [Page 219] anguish, but a work of mercy is produc'd not only with ease, but delight. Besides, she that bears a Child, knows not whether it may prove a Blessing or a curse; but Charity gives certain title to a Bles­sing, and engages the most solvent Paymaster, e­ven God himself, who owns all such disbursments as a loan to him. He that hath pity upon the poor, lendeth unto the Lord: and that which he hath given will he pay him again, Prov. 19. 17.

12. There was in the Primitive Times an Ec­clesiastical Order of Widows, which St. Paul men­tions 1 Tim. 5. whose whole Ministry was devo­ted to Charity. They were indeed of the poorer sort, fit rather to receive then give Alms; yet the less they could do with their Purses, the more was required of their Persons, the humbler offices of washing the Saints feet, the careful task of bring­ing up children, and a diligent attendance on every good work. And sure there is parity of Reason, that those who upon the score of their Wealth, exemt themselvs from those Laborious Services, should commute for it by more Liberal Alms. In the warmth and zeal of Christianity, Women of the higest Quality performed both sorts of Cha­rity, forgot their Greatness in their condescensi­ons, yet assum'd it again in their bounty; founded Hospitals, and yet with a labor of love, as the Apo­stle stiles it, Heb. 6. 10. disdain'd not sometimes to serve in them. But these are Examples not like to be transcrib'd in our daies, Greatness is now grown to such an unweildiness, that itcannot stoop [Page 220] tho to the most Christian Offices, and yet can as little soar up in any Munificent Charities: it stands like Nebuchadnezzars Golden Image, a vast Bulk only to be ador'd.

13. Now certainly, if any Women be qualifi­ed to avert this reproch, it must be the Dowagers of great Families and Fortunes, they have none to controul their Visits to the sick and afflicted, or to resent a disparagement from their humility, neither have they an account to give of their Possessions to any but God and themselves; to him sure they can bring none so like to procure them the Eulogy of well don thou good and faithful servant, Matth. 25. 21. as a Catalogue of their Alms. Nor indeed can they any other way dispose their Fortune so much to their own contentment; they may in­deed cloy and satiate their senses, make provision for the flesh; but that no way satisfies their reason, much less their Conscience. The Soul, which is the superior part; is quite left out in that distribu­tion, nothing is communicated to it but the guilt of those dear bought Excesses. The only way it has to be a sharer in their Wealth, is by a charitable dispensing. The Poor are its Proxies as well as Gods, and tho in all other respects we may say to the Soul, as the Psalmist does to God, Ps. 16. 2. my goods extend not to thee: yet by this way, it be­comes not only a partaker, but the chief proprie­tor, and all is laid out for its use. The harboring an out-cast, builds it an everlasting habitation, Lu. 16. 9. The clothing the naked, arrays it in pure [Page 221] white linen, Rev. 19. 8. and the feeding the hungry, makes it a guest at the supper of the Lamb. v. 8. nay, it gains not only an indefeisible title to these happy Reversions, but it has a great deal in present posses­sion, a huge rational Complacence in the right ap­plying of Wealth, & doing that with it for which 'twas design'd; yet more, it gives a sensitive delight, nothing being more agreeable to human nature, then the doing good to its own kind. A seasonable Alms leavs a greater exultation & transport in the Giver, then it can ordinarily raise in the Receiver; so exemplifying the Maxim of our Blessed Lord, that it is a more blessed thing to give then to receive, Act. 20. 35. This indeed is a way to elude the severe denuntiation of the Apostle, 1 Tim. 5. 6. A widow that liveth in this plesure, is not dead whilest she li­veth; but on the contrary, shall live when she dies; when she resigns her Breath, shall improve her be­ing; the Praiers of the Poor, like a benign gale, shall assist her flight to the Region of Bliss; and she who has here cherish'd the afflicted Members, shall ther be indissolubly united to their Glorious Head.

14. And now methinks Widow-hood, under this aspect, is quite transform'd, is not so forlorn; so desolate an estate as 'tis usually esteem'd. And would all Widows use but this expedient, thus de­vote themselves to Piety and Charity, it would▪ like the healing Tree, Exod. 15. 25. sweeten the Waters of Marah, render the condition not only supportable; but plesant; and they would not need to make: such affrighted; such disadvantageous [Page 222] escapes, as many do, from it. 'Tis true, the Apo­stle's affirmation is unquestionable, that the wife, when her husband is dead, is at liberty to be married to whom she will, 1 Cor. 7. 39. But the advice he subjoins is authentic too, she is happier if she so-a­bide. She that may solace her self in the Society, in the Love of her God, makes an ignoble descent to Human Embraces; she that may purchase Hea­ven with her Wealth, buys a very dear Bargain of the best Husband on Earth; nay indeed, upon a meer secular account, it seems not very prudent to relinquish both Liberty and Property, to Espouse at the best a Subjection, but perhaps a Slavery; it a little resembles the mad Frolicks of freed Gally­slaves, who play away their Liberty as soon as they regain it.

15. Marriage is so great an Adventure, that once seems enough for the whole life; for whether they have bin prosperous or adverse in the first, it does almost discourage a second attemt. She that has had a good Husband, may be suppos'd to have his Idea so fixt in her Heart, that it will be hard to introduce any new Form: nay farther, she may very reasonably doubt, that in this commond earth of Virtu, two good Husbands will scarce fall to one Womans share, and an ill one will become more intolerable to her, by the reflections she will be apt to make on the better. On the other side, if she have had a bad, the smart sure cannot but re­main after the rod is taken off; the memory of what she has suffer'd should, me thinks, be a competent [Page 223] caution against new adventures. Yet experience shews us that women (tho the weaker sex) have commonly fortitude enough to encounter and baffle all these considerations. It is not therefore to be expected that many will by any thing that hath or can be said be diverted from remarrying: and indeed she that does not preserve her widow­hood upon the accounts fore-mentioned, may perhaps better relinquish it. St Paul we see advises that those Widows who found no better emploi­ment then going from house to house, that grew by their vacancy to be tatlers and busy bodies 1 Tim. 5. 13. should marry again; it being the best way to fix these wandring planets, to find them business of their own at home, that so they may not ramble abroad to intermeddle with that of others. And the truth is they that cannot brook the retiredness and gravity which becomes a widow, had better put themselves in a state that less requires it; and, if they resolve not to con­form their minds to their condition, to bring their condition to their minds; but in the doing that there will be some cautions very necessary to be observ'd. I shall reduce them to two, the one relating to the times, the other to the equali­ty of the match.

16. First in respect of time, common de­cency requires that there be a considerable in­tervall between the parting with one husband & the chusing another, This has bin so much ob­served by nations that were at all civiliz'd, that [Page 224] find Numa made it a law, that no widow should marry under 10. months, and if any did she was to sacrifice as for the expiation of a crime; and this continued in force many ages after, in somuch that when upon reasons of State Augustus found it usefull to marry his sister Octavia to Antonius, nothing less then a decree of the Senate could li­cense the anticipating the time; so zealous obser­vers were they of this point of Civility, that they thought the whole state was concern'd in the vio­lation. 'Tis true we have no law in the case, but we have somewhat of custom, I know not how long we shall have, since the frequent breaches of it threaten quite to cancell it: yet a woman that is ten er of her honor will scarce give her example towards the rescinding it. The wounds of grief are seldom heal'd by any hand but that of time, and therefore too sudden a cure shews the hurt pierc'd not deep; and she that can make her mourning veil an optic to draw a new lover neerer to her sight, gives cause to suspect the sables were all without.

17. The next thing considerable is the equa­lity of the match. Marriage is so close a link, that to have it easy 'tis good to have the parties as even proportion'd as may be. And firstin respect of quality and fortune, 'tis to be wisht there should be no eminent disproportion. Those that meet most upon a level, are least subject to those upbraidings that often attend a great descent of either party; it is therefore no prudent motive, [Page 225] by which some Widows are swai'd, who marry only for a great title; who often do not meet with so much of obeisance from strangers, as they do with contemt from their husbands and his rela­tions. There have bin many examples of Lords, who have used rich, but inferior, widows like spunges, squeez'd them to fill themselves again only with the air of a big name. On the other side for a woman to marry very meanly and too much below her self is rather worse; those kind of matches are ordinarily made in a transport of passion, and when that abates and leaves her to sober reflections, she will probably be so angry with her self, that she will scarce be well pleas'd with her husband. A state of subjection is a little sweetned by the worth and dignity of the ruler: for as it is more honorable, so 'tis also more easy; the serviler spirits being of all others the most imperious in command. And sure 'twill not a little grate a woman of honor, to think she has made such a one her Master, who perhaps would before have thought it a preferment to have bin her ser­vant. Nay farther, such marriages have common­ly an ill reflection on the modesty of the Woman, it being usually presum'd that where the distance was so great, as to discourage such an attemt on his part, there was some invitation on hers. So that upon all accounts she is very forlorn who thus disposes of her self: yet 'tis too well known such matches have oft bin made, and the same levity and inconsideration may betray others to [Page 226] it; and therefore 'tis their concern well to ballast their minds and to provide that their passion, ne­ver get the ascendant over their reason.

18. Another very necessary equality is that of their judgment as to Religion. I do not mean that they are to catechize each other as to every minute speculative point; but that they be of the same profession, so as to join together in the wor­ship of God. It is sure very uncomfortable that those who have so closely combin'd all their other interests, should be disunited in the greatest; that one Church cannot hold them, whom one house, one bed does; and that religion which is in it self the most unitingthing, should be the only disagree­ment between them. I know 'tis oft made a com­pact in such matches, that neither shall impose their opinion upon the other: yet I doubt 'tis seldom kept, unless it be by those whose care­lesness of all religion abates their zeal to any one. But where they have any earnestness in their way, especially where one party thinks the other in a damnable error, twill scarce be possible to refrain endeavoring to reduce them; and that endeavor begets disputes, those disputes heats, those heats disgusts, and those disgusts perhaps end in aver­sion; so that at last their affections grow as unre­concilable as their opinions, and their religious jars draw on domestic. Besides if none of these personal debates happen, yet the education of the children will be matter of dispute; the one parent will still be countermining the other, each seeking [Page 227] to recover the others proselytes. Nay it intro­duces faction into the inferior parts of the family too: the servants, according to their different perswasions bandy into leagues and parties; so that it endangers, if not utterly destroies all concord in families: and all this train of mischiefs, should methinks be a competent prejudice against such matches.

19. There is yet a third particular wherein any great disproportion is much to be avoided, and that is in Years. The humors of youth and age differ so widely, that there had need be a great deal of skil to compose the discord into a harmony. When a young woman marries an old man, there are commonly jealousies on the one part and loathings on the other; and if there be not an eminent degree of discretion in one or both, there will be perpetual disagreements. But this is a case that does not often happen among those I now speak to: for tho the avarice of Parents sometimes forces maids upon such matches, yet widows who are their own choosers seldom make such electi­ons. The inequality among them commonly falls on the other side, and old women marry young men. Indeed any marriage is in such a folly and dotage, they who must suddenly make their beds in the dust, what should they think of a nuptial couch? And to such the answer of the Philosopher is apposite, who being demanded what was the fittest time for marrying, replied, For the young not yet, for the old not at all.

[Page 228] 20. But this dotage becomes perfect frenzy and madness when they choose young husbands: this is an accumulation of absurdities and contra­dictions. The husband and the Wife are but one person; and yet at once young and old, fresh and wither'd. 'Tis a reversing the decrees of nature, and therefore 'twas no ill answer which Dionysius the Tyrant gave his mother, who in her age de­sign'd such a match, that tho by his regal power he could dispense with positive laws, yet he could not abrogate those of nature; or make it fit for her an old woman to marry a young man. 'Tis indeed an inversion of seasons, a confounding the Kalender, making a mungrel month of May and December: and the conjunction proves as fatal as it is prodigious; it being scarce ever seen that such a match proves tolerably happy. And indeed 'tis not imaginable how it should, for first 'tis to be presum'd she that marries so must marry meanly, no young man who does not need her fortune will take her person. For tho some have the hu­mor to give great rates for inanimate antiquities, yet none will take the living gratis. Next she never misses to be hated by him she marries: he looks on her as his rack and torment, thinks himself under the lingring torture devis d by Mezentius, a living body tied to a dead. Nor must she think to cure this by any the little adulteries of art: she may buy beauty, and yet can never make it her own; may paint, yet never be fair. 'Tis like ena­meling a mud-wall, the coursness of the ground [Page 229] will spoil the varnish; and the greatest exquisitness of dress serves but to illustrate her native blemi­shes. So that all she gains by this is to make him scorn as well as abhor her.

21. Indeed there is nothing can be more ri­diculous, then an old Woman gaily set out; and it was not unaptly said of Diogenes to such a one, If this decking be for the living, you are deceiv­ed; if for the dead, make hast to them: and I doubt many young husbands will be ready to say as much. Naybecause death comes not quick enough to part them, there is few have patience to attend its loitering pace: the man bids adieu to the Wife tho not to her fortune, takes that to maintain his luxuries else where, allows her some little annu­ity, and makes her a pensioner to her own estate. So that he has his design, but she none of hers: he married for her fortune, and he has it; she for his person, and has it not: and which is worse buies her defeat with the loss of all; he commonly leaving her as emty of mony as he found her of wit.

22. And truly this is a condition deplorable enough, and yet usually fails even of that comfort which is the last reserve of the miserable, I mean Pitty. 'Tis the Wise man's question, Eccles. 12. 13. Who will pitty a charmer that is bitten with a Serpent? he might have presum'd less on his skill, and kept himself at a safer distance; and s [...]re the like may be said of her. Alas, what are her feeble charms, that she should expect by them to fix the [Page 230] giddy appetites of youth? And since she could so presume without sense, none will regret that she could be convinc'd by smart. Besides, this is a case wherein there have bin a multitude of un­happy Presidents which might have caution'd her. He that accidentally falls down an undiscover'd precipice is compassionated for his disaster; but he that stands a great while on the brink of it, looks down and sees the bottom strew'd with the man­gled carcasses of many that have thence fallen; if he shall deliberately cast himself into their com­pany, the blame quite extinguishes the pitty; he may astonish, but not melt the beholders. And tru­ly she who casts her self away in such a match, be­traies not less but more wilfullness. How many ruins of unhappy women present themselves to her, like the wracks of old vessells, all split upon this rock? And if she will needs steer her course purposely to do the same, none ought to grudg her the shipwrack she so courts.

23 Nor has she only this negative discomfor to be depriv'd of pity, but she is loaded with censures and reproch. The World is apt enough to malicious errors, to fix blame where there is none, but 'tis seldom guilty of the charitative, does not overlook the smallest appearance of evil, but generally puts the worst construction on any act, that it will with any probability bear; and according to that mesure women in this condi­tion can expect no very mild descant on them. Indeed such matches are so destitute of any ra­tional [Page 231] Plea, that 'tis hard to derive them from any other motive then the sensitive. What the com­mon conjectures are in that case, is as needless as it is unhansom to declare: I will not say how true they are, but if they be, it adds another reason to the former, why such marriages are so improsper­ous. All distortions in Nature are usually omi­nous; and sure such preternatural heats in Age, may very well be reckond'd as dismal Presages, & very certain ones too, since they create the ruine they foretell. And truly 'tis not only just, but con­venient, that such motives should be attended with such Consequences; that the Bitterness of the one may occasion some reflexion on the Sordidness of the other. 'Tis but kindly, that such an Alhal­lontide Spring should meet with Frosts, and the un­plesantness of the event chastise the ugliness of the Design; and therefore I think those that are con­scious of the one, should be so far from murmur­ing, that they should be very thankful for the other; think [...]t Gods discipline to bring them again to their Wits, and not repine at that smart which themselves have made necessary.

24. And now I wish all the Ancienter Widows, would seriously weigh how much 'tis their Interest not to sever those two Epithets; that of Ancient they cannot put off, it daily grows upon them; and that of Widow is sure a more proprotionable adjunct to it, then that of Wife; especially when it is to one to whom her Age might have made her Mother. There is a Veneration due to Age, if it [Page 232] be such as disowns not it self: The hoary head, says Solomon, is a crown of glory if it be found in the way of righteousness, Prov. 16. 32. but when it will mix it self with Youth, it is disclaim'd by both, be­comes the shame of the Old, and the scorn of the Young. What a strange fury is it then which pos­sesses such Women, that when they may dispose their Fortunes to those advantageous Designs be­fore mention'd, they should only buy with them, so undecent, so ridiculous a slavery? that when they may keep up the reputation of Modesty and Pru­dence, they should expose themselves to an Uni­versal Contemt for the want of both; and that they who might have had a reverence, put them­selves even out of the capacity of bare compassion.

25. This is so high a Frenzy, as sure cannot happen in an instant; it must have some preparato­ry degrees, some rooting in the constitution and habit of the mind: Such Widows have sure some lightness of humor, before they can be so giddy in their Brains, and therefore those that will secure themselves from the Effect, must substract the Cause; if they will still be wishing themselves young, 'tis odds but within a while they will per­suade themselves they are so. Let them therefore content them selves to be old, and as Fashions are varied with Times, so let them put on the Orna­ments proper to their Season; which are Piety, Gravity, and Prudence. These will be not only their ornament, but their Armor too; this will gain them such a Reverence, that will make it as [Page 233] improbable they should be assaulted, as impossible they should assault. For I think one may safely say, It is the want of one or all of these, which betraies Women to such Marriages.

26. And indeed it may be a matter of Caution, even to the younger Widows, not to let themselvs too much loose to a light frolic humor, which per­haps they will not be able to put off, when it is most necessary they should. It will not much in­vite a sober Man to marry them while they are young; and if it continue with them till they are old, it may (as natural Motions use) grow more violent towards its end: precipitate them into that ruinous Folly we have before consider'd. Yet, should they happen to scape that, should it not force them from their Widow-hood, it will sure very ill agree with it: for how preposterous is it for an Old Woman to delight in Gauds & Trifles such as were fitter to entertain her gran-children? to read Romances with spectacles, & be at Masks and Dancings, when she is fit only to act the An­tics? These are contradictions to Nature: the tearing off her Marks, and where she has writ fifty or sixty, tolessen (beyond the proportionof the un­just Steward) and write sixteen. And those who thus manage their widow-hood, have more reason to bewail it at last then at first, as having more ex­perimentally found the mischif of being left too their own guidance. It will therefore concern them all to put themselvs under a safer Conduct, by an [...] assiduous Devotion to render themselvs up to the [Page 234] leading of the One infallible Guide, who, if he be not a covering of the eyes, Gen. 20. 16. to preclude all second Choices, may yet be a light to them for discerning who are fit to be chosen; that if they see fit to use their liberty and Marry, they may yet take the Apostles restriction with it, 1 Cor. 7. 40. that it be only in the Lord. Upon such sober Mo­tives, and with such due Circumstances as may approve it to Him, and render it capable of his Benediction.