I.
Vpon the sight of the Hea­uens mouing.

I Can see no­thing stand still but the Earth; all other things are in motion; Euen that Water which makes vp one Globe with the Earth, [Page 2] is euer stirring in ebbes and flowings; the clouds ouer my head, the Hea­uens aboue the clouds; these, as they are most conspicuous, so are they the greatest patternes of perpetuall action; what should wee rather imi­tate then this glorious frame? O God when we pray that thy will may bee done in Earth, as it is in heauen, though we meane chiefly the inhabi­tants of that place, yet wee doe not exclude the very place of those blessed inhabitants, from being an example of our Obedi­ence. The motion of this thy Heauen is perpetuall, [Page 3] so let mee euer be acting so mewhat of thy will; the motion of thine Heauen is regular, neuer swaruing from the due points; so let me euer walke steddily in the wayes of thy will; without all diuersions, or variations from the line of thy Law; In the motion of thine Heauen, though some Starres haue the [...] owne peculiar, and con­trary courses, yet a [...] yeeld themselues to the sway of the mayne cir­cumuolution of that first mouer; so, though I haue a will of mine owne, yet let mee giue my selfe ouer to bee ruled, and ordered by thy Spirit in all my wayes;

[Page 4] Man is a little world; my Soule is heauen, my Body is earth; if this earth bee dull and fixed, yet O God, let my heauen (like vnto thine) moue perpe­tually, regularly, and in a constant subiection to thine holy Ghost.

II.
Vpon the sight of a Diall.

IF the Sunne did not shine vpon this Diall, no body would looke at it; in a cloudy day it stands like an vselesse post, vnheeded, vnregarded; But when once those [Page 5] beames breake forth, eue­ry passenger runnes to it, and gazes on it; O God, whiles thou hidest thy countenance from mee, mee thinkes all thy Crea­tures passe by mee, with a willing neglect; indeed, what am I, without thee? And if thou haue drawne in me some lines, & notes of able indowments, yet, if I be not actuated by thy Grace, all is, in respect of vse; no better then no­thing: But, when thou renuest the light of thy louing countenance vpon mee, I finde a sensible, and happy change of conditi­on; me thinkes, all things looke vpon mee with such [Page 6] cheere, and obseruance, as if they meant to make good that Word of thine; Those that honour mee, I will honour; now, euery line and figure, which it hath pleased thee to work in mee, serue for vsefull, and profitable direction; O Lord, all the glory is thine; giue thou me light, I shall giue others infor­mation; both of vs shal giue thee praise.

III.
Vpon the sight of an Eclipse of the Sunne.

LIght is an ordinary and familiar blessing; yet so deare to vs, that one houres interception of it sets all the world in a wonder. The two great Luminaries of heauen, as they impart light to vs, so they withdraw light from each other. The Sunne darkens the full Moone, in casting the shadow of the Earth vpon her oppo­sed-face; The new Moone repayes this blemish to the Sunne, in the interpo­sing of her darke body [Page 8] betwixt our eyes, and his glorious beames; the earth is troubled at both: O God, if wee bee so af­flicted with the obscuring of some peece of one of thy created Lights, for an houre, or two; what a confusion shall it be, that thou, who art the God of these lights, (in compari­son of whom they are meere darknesse) shalt hide thy face from thy creature for euer? Oh thou that art the Sunne of righte­ousnesse; if euery of my sinnes cloud thy face; ye [...] let not my grieuous sinnes eclipse thy light; Thou shinest alwayes, though I doe not see thee, but, oh, [Page 9] neuer suffer my sinnes so to darken thy visage that I cannot see thee.

IIII.
Vpon the sight of a gliding Starre.

HOw easily is our sight deceiued? How ea­sily doth our sight de­ceiue vs? Wee saw no difference betwixt this Starre and the rest; the light seemed alike, both whiles it stood, and whiles it fell; now, wee know it was no other, then a base [...]limie meteor, guilded with the Sun-beames; [Page 10] and now, our foot can tread vpon that, which ere while our eye admi­red; Had it been a Starre, it had still, and euer shi­ned; now, the very fall argues it a false and ele­mentary apparition; Thus our Charity doth, and must mis-lead vs in our Spirituall iudgements; if wee see men exalted in their Christian professi­on, fixed in the vpper re­gion of the Church, shi­ning with appearances of Grace; wee may not thinke them other them starres, in this lower fir­mament; but, if they fall from their holy station, and imbrace the present [Page 11] world; whether in iudge­ment or practise, renoun­cing the Truth, and pow­er of godlinesse; now we may boldly say, they had neuer any true light in them; and were no other then a glittering compo­sition of Pride, and hypo­crisie; O God, if my charity make mee apt to bee deceiued by others, [...]et mee be sure not to de­ [...]eiue my selfe; perhaps, some of these apostating Starres haue thought [...]hemselues true: let their mis-carriage make mee [...]eedfull; Let the inward [...]ght of thy Grace more [...]onuince my truth to my [...]elfe, then my outward [Page 12] profession can represent mee glorious to others.

V.
Vpon a faire Prospect.

VVHat a pleasing va­riety is heere o [...] Townes, Riuers, Hills Dales, Woods, Medowes each of them striuing t [...] set forth other; and al [...] of them to delight th [...] eye? So as this is no o­ther then a naturall; an [...] reall Landskip drawne b [...] that Almightie, and ski [...] full hand, in this table o [...] the Earth, for the plea­sure of our view; no o­ther [Page 13] creature besides Man is capable to apprehend this beautie; I shall doe wrong to him that brought mee hither, if I doe not feed my eyes, and praise my Maker; It is the inter mixture, and change of these obiects that yeelds this contentment both to the sense, and minde; But, there is a sight, O my Soule, that without all varietie, offerres thee a truer and fuller delight; euen this Heauen aboue thee: All thy other pro­spect ends in this; This glorious circumference [...]ounds, and circles, and inlightens all that thine eye can see; whe­ther [Page 14] thou looke vpward, or forward, or about thee, there thine eye a­lights, there let thy thoughts bee fixed.

One inch of this light­some Firmament hath more beauty in it, then the whole face of the Earth; And yet, this is but the floore of that goodly fabricke, the out­ward curtaine of that glo­rious Tabernacle: Couldst thou but (Oh that thou couldst) looke within that vayle, how shouldst thou bee rauished with that blissefull sight? There, in that incomprehensible light, thou shouldst see him whom none can see, [Page 15] and not bee blessed; thou shouldst see millions of pure and maiesticall An­gels, of holy and glorified Soules: there, amongst thy Fathers many mansi­ons thou shouldst take happie notice of thine owne: Oh the best of earth, now vile and con­temptible; Come downe no more, O my Soule, after thou hast once pit­ched vpon this heauenly glory; or if this flesh force thy descent, be vnquiet till thou art let loose to immor­tality.

VI.
Vpon the frame of a Globe casually broken.

IT is hard to say whe­ther is the greater, Mans art, or Impotence; He that cannot make one spire of grasse, or corne of sand, will yet bee fra­ming of Worlds; he can imitate all things, who can make nothing; Heere is a great world in a little roome, by the skill of the workeman, but in lesse roome, by mis-accident; Had hee seene this, who vpon the view of Pla­toes Booke of Common-wealth eaten with Mice, [Page 17] presaged the fatall mis-carriage of the publike State; hee would sure haue construed this casu­alty as ominous: What euer become of the mate­riall world, (whose decay might seeme no lesse to stand with diuine Proui­dence, then this Micro­cosme of indiuidual man) sure I am, the frame of the morall world is, and must be dis-ioynted in the last times: Men doe and will fall from euill to worse; He that hath made all times hath told vs that the last shall bee perilous; Happie is hee that can stand vpright, when the world declines; and can [Page 18] indeauour to repaire the common ruine with a constancy in goodnesse.

VII.
Vpon a Cloud.

VVHether it were a naturall Cloud, wherewith our ascending Sauiour was intercepted from the eyes of his Dis­ciples, vpon mount Oli­vet, I inquire not; this I am sure of; that the time now was, when a Cloud surpassed the Sunne in glory; How did the in­tentiue eyes of those ra­uished beholders enuie [Page 19] that happie meteor; and since they could no more see that glorious Body, fixed themselues vpon that coelestiall Chariot, wherewith it was carried vp. The Angels could tell the gazing Disciples (to fetch them off from that astonishing prospect) that this IESVS should so come againe, as they had seene him depart; He went vp in a Clōud; and hee shall come againe in the clouds of heauen, to his last iudgement; O Sa­uiour, I cannot looke vp­ward, but I must see the sensible monuments; both of thine ascension, and returne; let no cloud of [Page 20] Worldlinesse, or Infide­litie hinder mee from fol­lowing thee in thine As­cension, or from expe­cting thee in thy returne.

VIII.
Vpon the sight of a Graue digged vp.

THe Earth, as it is a great deuourer, so al­so it is a great preseruer too: Liquors and Fleshes are therein long kept from putrifying; and are rather heightened in their Spirits by being buried in it; But aboue all, how safely doth it keepe our [Page 21] bodyes for the Resurre­ction; wee are here but layd vp for custody; Balmes, and sere-clothes, and leads, cannot doe so much as this lappe of our common Mother; when all these are dissolued into her dust (as being vnable to keepe themselues from corruption) shee receiues and restores her charge: I can no more with-hold my body from the earth; then the earth can with­hold it from my Maker. O GOD, this is thy Ca­binet or shrine, wherein [...]hou pleasest to lay vp [...]he precious reliques of [...]hy deare Saints, vntill [...]he Iubilee of Glorie; [Page 22] with what confidence should I commit my selfe to this sure reposition, whiles I know thy word iust, thy Power infinite?

IX.
Vpon the sight of Gold melted.

THis Gold is both th [...] fairest, and most solide of all mettals; yet [...] the soonest melted wit [...] the fire; others, as the [...] are courser, so more chu [...] lish, and hard to b [...] wrought vpon by a dissolution; Thus, a sound an [...] good heart is most easi [...] [Page 23] melted into sorrow and feare, by the sence of Gods iudgements; where­as the carnall minde is stubburne, and remorse­lesse; All mettals are but earth, yet some are of fi­ner temper then others; All hearts are of flesh, yet some are, through the power of grace, more ca­pable of Spirituall appre­hensions: O GOD, wee are such as thou wilt bee pleased to make vs: Giue mee an heart that may bee sound for the truth of Grace, and melting at the terrors of thy Law; I can bee for no other, then thy Sanctuarie on earth, or thy Treasurie of heauen.

X.
Vpon the sight of a Pitcher carried.

THus those that are great, and weake, are carried by the eares vp and downe of Flatterers, and Parasites; Thus igno­rant and simple hearers are carried by false and mis-zealous teachers, yet, to bee carryed by both eares is more safe, then bee carryed by one; It ar­gues an empty pitcher to be carryed by one alone; such are they that vpon the hearing of one-part, rashly passe their sen­tence, [Page 25] whether of acqui­all, or censure.

In all disquisitions of [...]idden Truthes, a wise man will bee led by the [...]ares, not carried; that [...]plies a violence of pas­ [...]on ouer-swaying iudge­ [...]ent; but in matter of [...]uill and occurrence, and vnconcerning rumour, it is good to vse the Eare, not to trust to it:

XI.
Vpon the sight of Tree f [...] blossomed.

HEere is a Tree ouer layd with blossomes it is not possible that a [...] these should prospe [...] one of them must need [...] rob the other of mo [...] sture, and growth; I do not loue to see an Infa [...] cie ouer-hopefull; [...] these pregnant begin­nings one facultie staru [...] another, and, at last, leau [...] the minde sap-lesse, an [...] barren; as therefore w [...] are wont to pull off som [...] of the too-frequent blos­somes, that the rest ma [...] [Page 27] thriue, So, it is good wisedome to moderate the earely excesse of the parts, or progresse of o­uer-forward child-hood. Neither is it otherwise in our Christian professi­on; a sudden and lauish ostentation of grace may fill the eye with wonder, and the mouth with talke, but will not, at the last, fill the lappe with fruit.

Let mee not promise too much, nor raise too high expectations of my vndertakings; I had ra­ther men should com­plaine of my small hopes, then of my short perfor­mances.

XII.
Vpon the report of a Man suddenly strucke dead in his Sin.

I Cannot but magnifie the iustice of GOD, but withall I must praise his Mercy; It were woe with any of vs all, if GOD should take vs at aduantages; Alas, which of vs hath not commit­ted sinnes worthy of a present reuenge; had wee beene also surprized in those acts, where had wee beene? Oh GOD, it is more then thou owest [Page 29] vs, that thou hast wayted for our repentance; It is no more then thou owest vs, that thou plaguest our offences; The wages of sinne is Death; and it is but iustice to pay due wages: Blessed bee thy Iustice that hast made o­thers examples to mee: Blessed be: thy Mercy, that hast not made me an example vnto others. *⁎*

XIII.
Vpon the view of the Hea­uen and the earth.

VVHat a strange con­trarietie is heere? The Heauen is in conti­nuall motion, and yet there is the onely place of rest; the Earth euer stands still, and yet heere is nothing but vnrest and vnquietnesse; Surely, the end of that heauenly mo­tion is for the benefit of the Earth; and the end of all these earthly tur­moyles is our reposall in heauen; Those that haue imagined the earth to turne about, and the [Page 31] heauens to stand still; haue yet supposed that wee may stand, or sit still, on that whirling Globe of earth: how much more may wee bee perswaded of our per­fect rest aboue those mo­uing Spheares? It mat­ters not, O GOD, how I am vexed heere below a while; if, ere long, I may repose with thee aboue, for euer.

XIIII.
Vpon occasion of a Redbre [...] comming into his Chamber.

PRetty bird, how chea [...] ­fully do'st thou sit an [...] sing, and yet knowest n [...] where thou art, nor whe [...] thou shalt make thy ne [...] meale; and, at nigh [...] must shrowd thy selfe in [...] bush, for lodging; Wh [...] a shame is it for mee, th [...] see before mee so libera [...] prouisions of my GOD and finde my selfe s [...] warme vnder my ow [...] roofe, yet am ready [...] droupe vnder a distru [...] full, and vnthankfull du [...] ­nesse. [Page 33] Had I so little cer­tainty of my harbour and purueyance, how hartlesse should I bee, how carefull; how little list should I haue to make musicke to thee or my selfe; Surely, thou, camest not hither without a prouidence, GOD sent thee not so much to delight, as to shame mee, but all in a conuiction of my sullen vnbeliefe; who vnder more apparent meanes, [...]m lesse cheerefull, and [...]onfident, Reason and [...]aith haue not done so much in mee, as in thee, heere instinct of nature; want of fore-sight makes hee more merry, if not [Page 34] more happie heere, then the fore-sight of better things maketh mee.

O God, thy prouidence is not impayred by those Powers thou hast giuen mee aboue these brute things; Let not my greater helps hinder mee from an holy security, and comfor­table relyance vpon thee.

XV.
Vpon occasion of a Spider i [...] his Window.

THere is no vice i [...] man, whereof ther [...] is not some analogie i [...] the brute Creatures: [...] [Page 35] amongst vs Men, there are Theeues by land, and Pirates by sea, that liue by spoyle and blood; so is there in euery kind a­mongst them variety of naturall Sharkers; the Hauke in the ayre, the Pike in the riuer, the Whale in the sea, the Ly­on, and Tyger, and Wolfe in the desert, the Waspe in the hiue, the Spider in our window. Amongst the rest, see how cunning­ly this little Arabian hath spred out his tent, for a prey; how heedfully hee watches for a Passenger; so soone as euer he heares the noyse of a Fly a farre off, how hee hastens to [Page 36] his doore, and if that sil­ly heedlesse. Traueller doe but touch vpon the verge of that vnsuspected walke, how suddenly doth hee seize vpon the miserable bootie; and after some strife, binding him fast with those subtile cords, drags the helplesse cap­tiue after him into his caue. What is this but an Embleme of those Spi­rituall free-booters, that lie in waite for our soules: They are the Spiders, wee the Flies; they haue spred their nets of sinne, if wee bee once caught, they bind vs fast, and hale vs into Hell.

Oh LORD, deliuer [Page 37] thou my soule from their crafty ambushes; their poyson is greater, their webs both more strong, and more insensibly wo­uen; Either teach mee to auoyd tentation, or make mee to breake thorough it by Repentance; Oh let mee not bee a prey to those fiends that lye in waite for my destructi­on.

XVI.
Vpon the sight of a Raine in the Sunshine.

SVch is my best condi­tion in this life, If the Sunne of GODS coun­tenance shine vpon mee, I may well bee content to bee wet with some raine of Affliction; How oft haue I seene the Hea­uen ouer-cast with clouds and tempest; no Sunne appearing to comfort me; yet euen those gloomy and stormy seasons haue I rid out patiently, onely with the helpe of the com­mon-light of the day, at last, those beames haue [Page 39] broken forth happily, and cheared my Soule; It is well for my ordinary state, if through the mists of my owne dulnesse, and Satans tentations, I can descry some glimpse of heauenly comfort; let mee neuer hope, whiles I am in this Vaile, to see the cleare face of that Sunne without a showre: such happinesse is reser­ued for aboue; that vpper region of glory is free from these doubtfull and miserable vicissitudes. There, O GOD wee shall see as wee are seene. Light is sowne for the Righeous, and ioy for the vpright in heart.

XVII.
Vpon the Length of the way.

HOw farre off is yon­der great Moun­taine? My very eye is weary with the fore-sight of so great a distance; yet time and patience shall o­vercome it; this night wee shall hope to lodge beyond it; Some things are more tedious in their expectation, then in their performance. The com­fort is, that euery step I take, sets mee nearer to my end; When I once come there, I shall both forget how long it now [Page 41] seemes, and please my selfe to looke backe vpon the way that I haue mea­sured.

It is thus in our passage to Heauen; my weake nature is ready to faint vnder the very conceit of the length, and difficulty of this iourney; my eye doth not more guide, then discourage mee; Many steps of Grace, and true obedience, shall bring me insensibly thither; Only, let mee moue, and hope; and GODS good leisure shall perfect my Saluati­on. O Lord, giue mee to possesse my Soule with patience, and not so much to regard speed, as cer­tainty; [Page 42] When I come to the top of thine holy hill, all these weary paces, and deepe sloughes shall ei­ther bee forgotten, or contribute to my happi­nesse in their remem­brance.

XVIII.
Vpon the Raine and Waters.

VVHat a sensible in­terchange there is, in Nature, betwixt v­nion, and diuision; Ma­ny vapours rising from the sea, meete together in one cloud; that cloud [Page 43] falls downe diuided, in­to seuerall drops; those drops runne together, and in many rills of wa­ter, meete in the same channels; those channels run into the brooke, those brookes into the riuers, those riuers into the Sea; one receptacle is for all, though a large one; and all make backe to their first, and maine originall: So it either is, or should be with Spirituall guifts; O GOD, thou distillest thy Graces vpon vs, not for our reseruation, but conueyance; those ma­ny-fold faculties thou let­test fall vpon seuerall Men thou wouldst not haue [Page 44] drenched vp, where they light; but wouldst haue deriued, through the channels of their speciall vocations, into the com­mon streames of publique Vse, for Church, or Common-wealth; Take backe, O Lord, those few drops thou hast rayned vpon my soule, and re­turne them into that great Ocean of the Glory of thine owne bounty, from whence they had their be­ginning. *⁎*

XIX.
Vpon the same Subiect.

MAny drops fill the Channels, and ma­ny Channels swell vp the brookes, and many brookes raise the Riuers, ouer the bankes; the brookes are not out, till the channels bee empty; the riuers rise not, whiles the small brookes are full; but when the little rivulets haue once voy­ded themselues into the mayne streames, then all is ouerflowne. Great matters arise from small beginnings; Many littles make vp a large bulke; [Page 46] Yea what is the World but a composition of atomes. Wee haue seene i [...] thus in ciuill estates; th [...] empayring of the Com­mons hath oft beene th [...] raising of the great; their streames haue runne low [...] till they haue beene heigh­tened by the confluenc [...] of many priuate inlets▪ Many a meane channel hath beene emptyed, to make vp their inundati­on; Neither is it other­wise in my, whether out­ward, or spirituall con­dition: O GOD, tho [...] hast multiplyed my drop [...] into streames, As out o [...] many minuts thou ha [...] made vp my age, so out o [...] [Page 47] many lessons thou hast made vp my competencie of knowledge; thou hast drayned many benificent friends to make mee com­petently rich. By many holy motions, thou hast wrought me to some mea­sure of Grace:

Oh, teach mee, wisely and moderately to inioy thy bounty; and to re­duce thy streames into thy drops, and thy drops into thy clouds, humbly, and thankefully acknow­ledging whence, and how, I haue all that I haue, all that I am:

XX.
Vpon occasion of the lights brought in.

VVHat a change there is in the roome, since the light came in▪ yea in our selues? All things seeme to haue a new forme, a new life; yea, wee are not the same we were: How goodly a creature is light, how pleasing, how agreeable to the spirits of man? no visible thing comes so neere to the resembling of the nature of the soule, yea of the God that made it; As contrarily, what an vncomfortable thing [Page 49] is darknesse; in so much as wee punish the grea­test malefactors with ob­scuritie of Dungeons; as thinking they could not be miserable enough, if they might haue the priuiledge of beholding the light; yea, hell it selfe can bee no more horribly described then by out­ward darknesse:

What is darknesse but absence of light? The pleasure, or the horror of light, or darknesse is ac­cording to the quality and degree of the cause, whence it ariseth; And if the light of a poore candle be so comfortable, which is nothing but a little in­flamed [Page 50] ayre, gathered a­bout a moystened snuffe, what is the light of the glorious Sunne, the great lampe of Heauen? But much more, what is the light of that infinitely-re­splendent Sun of righte­ousnesse, who gaue that light to the Sunne, that Sunne to the world; And, if this partiall, and im­perfect darkenesse bee so dolefull, (which is th [...] priuation of a naturall o [...] artificiall light) how vn­conceiuable, dolorou [...] and miserable, shall tha [...] bee, which is caused through the vtter absence of the all-glorious GOD▪ who is the Father o [...] [Page 51] lights? O Lord, how iust­ly doe wee pitty those wretched Soules, that sit in darkenesse and the sha­dow of death, shut vp from the light of the sa­uing knowledge of thee, the onely true God; But, how am I swallowed vp with horror, to thinke of the fearefull condition of those damned soules, that are for euer shut out from the presence of GOD, and adiudged to exquisite and euerlasting darknesse. The Egyptians were wea­ry of themselues, in their three dayes darkenesse, yet we doe not find any paine that accompanyed their continuing night; What [Page 52] shall wee say to those wo­full soules; in whom the sensible presence of infi­nite torment shall meet with the torment of the perpetuall absence of GOD? O thou, who art the true light, shine euer▪ through all the blinde corners of my Soule; and from these weake glimmerings of Grace, bring me to the perfect bright­nesse of thy Glory. *⁎*

XXI.
Vpon the same Occasion.

AS well as wee loue the light, wee are wont to salute it, at the first comming in, with winking, or closed eyes; as not abiding to see that; without which wee cannot see. All suddaine changes (though to the better) haue a kinde of trouble attending them; By how much more ex­cellent any obiect is, by so much more is our weake sence mis-affected in the first apprehending of it: O LORD, if thou shouldst manifest thy [Page 54] glorious presence to vs heere, wee should bee confounded in the sight of it; How wisely, how mercifully hast thou reser­ued that for our glorified estate; where no infirmi­ty shall dazle our eyes; where perfect Righteous­nesse, shall giue as perfect bouldnesse, both of sight, and fruition.

XXII.
Vpon the blowing of the Fire.

VVEe beat backe the flame, not with a purpose to suppresse it [Page 55] but to raise it higher, and to diffuse it more; Those afflictions, and repulses which seeme to bee dis­couragements, are in­deed the mercifull incite­ments of grace. If GOD did meane iudgement to my Soule, hee would ei­ther withdraw the fuell, or powre water vpon the fire, or suffer it to languish for want of new motions; but now, that he continues to me the meanes, and op­portunities, and desires of good, I shall misconstrue the intentions of my GOD, if I shall thinke his crosses sent rather to dampe, then to quicken his Spirit in me.

[Page 56] O GOD, if thy bel­lowes did not sometimes thus breath vpon mee, in spirituall repercussi­ons, I should haue iust cause to suspect my e­state; Those few weake gleeds of Grace that are in mee, might soone goe out, if they were not thus refreshed; still blow vpon them, till they kindle; still kindle them, till they flame vp to thee.

XXIII.
Vpon the barking of a Dog.

VVHat haue I done to this Dog, that hee followes mee with this angry clamour? Had I rated him, or shaken my staffe, or stooped downe for a stone, I had iustly drawne on this noyse; this snarling importuni­ty. But, why, doe I won­der to finde this vn­quiet disposition in a bruit creature, when it is no newes with the reaso­nable.

Haue I not seene inno­cence, and merit bayed at by the quarrelsome, and [Page 58] enuious vulgar, without any prouocation saue of good offices? Haue I not felt (more then their tongue,) their teeth, vpon my heeles, when I know, I haue deserued nothing, but fawning on? Where is my grace, or spirits, if I haue not learned to con­temne both?

O GOD, let mee ra­ther dye then willingly incurre thy displeasure; yea, then iustly offend thy godly-wise, iudici­ous, conscionable ser­vants; but if humor or fa­ction, or causelesse preiu­dice fall vpon mee; for my faithfull seruice to thee; Let these bawling [Page 59] currestyre themselues, and teare their throates, with loud, and false cen­sures, I goe on in a silent constancy, and if my eare bee beaten, yet my heart shall be free.

XXIIII.
Vpon sight of a Cocke fight.

HOw fell these Crea­tures out? Whence grew this so bloudy com­bate? Heere was ney­ther old grudge, nor pre­sent iniurie. What then is the quarrell? Surely nothing but that which [Page 60] should rather vnite, and reconcile them; one com­mon Nature; the are both of one feather. I doe not see eyther of them flye vpon Crea­tures of different kinds; but whiles they haue peace with all others, they are at warre with themselues; the very sight of each o­ther was sufficient prouo­cation. If this bee the offence, why doth not each of them fall out with himselfe, since hee hates, and reuenges in another, the being of that same which him­selfe is?

Since Mans sin brought Debate into the World, [Page 61] nature is become a great quarreller.

The seeds of discord were scattered in euery furrow of the Creati­on, and came vp in a numberlesse variety of antipathies, whereof yet none is more odious, and deplorable, then those which are betwixt crea­tures of the same kinde. What is this but an image of that woefull hostility which is exercised be­twixt vs resonables, who are conioyned in one common humanity, if not, Religion?

Wee fight with, and de­stroy each other, more then those creatures that [Page 62] want reason to temper their passions: No beast is so cruell to man, as him­self; where one man is slaine by a beast, ten thou­sand are slaine by man. What is that warre which wee study and practise, but the art of killing? What euer Turkes and Pagans may doe, O Lord how long shall, this bru­tish fury arme Christians against each other? Whiles euen diuels are not at en­mity with themselues, but accord in wickednesse, why doe we men so mor­tally oppose each other in good?

Oh thou, that art the GOD of Peace, compose [Page 63] the vnquiet hearts of men, to an happie and vni­uersall Concord, and at last refresh out Soules with the multitude of Peace.

XXV.
Vpon his lying downe to rest.

WHat a circle there is of humane acti­ons, and euents? Wee are neuer without some change, and yet that change is without any great varietie; wee sleepe, and wake, and wake and sleepe; and eate and euacu­ate [Page 64] and recreate, and la­bour in a continuall inter­change, yet hath the infi­nite wisedome of God, so ordered it, that wee are not wearie of these perpe­tuall iterations, but with no lesse appetite enter in­to our dayly courses, then if wee should passe them but once in our life. When I am wearie of my dayes labor, how willing­ly doe I vndresse my selfe, and betake my selfe to my bed; and ere Morning, when I haue wearied my restlesse bed, how glad am I to ryse and renew my la­bour?

Why am I not more desirous to be vncloathed [Page 65] of this body, that I may be cloathed vpon with Im­mortality? What is this but my closest garment, which when it is once put off, my Soule is at liberty and ease. Many a time haue I lyen downe heere in desire of rest, and after some tedious changing of sides, haue risen sleepe­lesse, disappointed, lan­guishing in my last vnca­sing, my body shall not faile of repose, nor my Soule of ioy; and in my rising vp, neither of them shall faile of Glory; What hinders mee, O GOD, but my infidelity from longing for this happy dissolution? The world [Page 66] hath misery and toyle e­nough, and Heauen hath more then enough bles­sednesse to perfect my de­sires of that my last and glorious change. I be­leeue, Lord, helpe my vn­beleefe?

XXVI.
Vpon the kindling of a Charcole fire.

THere are not many Creatures but doe naturally affect to diffuse and inlarge themselues; Fire and Water will ney­ther of them rest conten­ted with their owne [Page 67] bounds; those little sparkes that I see in those coales, how they spread, and enkindle their next brands; It is thus mo­rally both in good, and euill; eyther of them di­lates it selfe, to their Neighbourhood; but e­specially this is so much more apparent in euill, by how much wee are more apt to take it. Let but some sparke of hereticall opinion bee let fall vpon some vnstable, proud, bu­sie spirit, it catcheth in­stantly; and fires the next capable subiect; they two haue easily inflamed a third; and now the more society, the more s [...]eed▪ [Page 68] and aduantage of a publike combustion. When we see the Church on a flame, it is too late to complaine of the flint and steele; It is the holy wisedome of superiours to preuent the dangerous attritions of stubborne, and wrang­ling spirits; or to quench their first sparkes in the tinder.

But, why should not Grace and Truth bee as successefull in dilating it selfe to the gaining of ma­ny hearts? Certainly these are in themselues more winning, if our corruption had not made vs indispo­sed to good: O God, out of a [...] holy enuy and emu­lation [Page 69] at the speed of euil, I shall labour to enkindle others with these heauen­ly flames, it shal not be my fault if they spread not.

XXVII.
Vpon the sight of an humble and patient Begger.

SEe what need can doe; This man, who in so lowly a fashion crou­cheth to that Passenger, hath in all likelyhood as good a stomacke as hee, to whom hee thus abaseth himselfe; and if their con­ditions were but altered, [Page 70] would looke as high, and speake as bigge to him, whom hee now answeres with a plausible and de­iected reuerence.

It is thus betwixt God; and vs: Hee sees the way to tame vs, is to hold vs short of these earthly con­tentments: Euen the Sa­uagest Beasts are made quiet and docible, with want of food, and rest; Oh GOD, thou onely knowest what I would doe, if I had health, ease, abundance; doe thou in thy wisedome and mercy so proportion thy guifts, and restraints, as thou knowest best for my soule. If I bee not humbled e­nough, [Page 71] let mee want; and so order all my estate; that I may want any thing saue thy selfe.

XXVIII.
Vpon the sight of a Crow pulling off wooll from the backe of a Sheepe.

HOw well these Crea­tures know whom they may bee bold with? That Crow durst not doe this to a Wolfe, or Ma­stiue; The knowne sim­plicity of this innocent beast giues aduantage to this presumption.

[Page 72] Meekenesse of spirit commonly drawes on in­iuries.

The cruelty of ill na­tures vsually seekes out those, not who deserue worst, but who will beare most.

Patience and mild­nesse of Spirit is ill be­stowed where it exposes a man to wrong and insul­tation;

Sheepish dispositions are best to others; worst to themselues. I could be willing to take iniuries; but I will not be guilty of prouoking them by leni­ty; for harmlesnesse let me goe for a Sheepe, but whosoeuer will bee tea­ring [Page 73] my fleece; let him looke to himselfe.

XXIX.
Vpon the sight of two Snayles.

THere is much variety euen in Creatures of the same kinde. See there, two Snayles; One hath an house, the other wants it; yet both are Snayles; and it is a questi­on whether case is the better; That which hath an house hath more shel­ter, but that which wants it, hath more freedome; The priuiledge of that [Page 74] couer is but a burthen; you see if it haue but a stone to clime ouer, with what stresse it drawes vp that beneficiall lode; and if the passage proue strait, finds no entrance: where­as the empty Snaile makes no difference of way; Surely, it is alwayes an ease, and sometimes an happinesse to haue no­thing; no man is so worthy of enuy as he that can be cheerful in want:

XXX.
Vpon the hearing of the street cries in London.

VVHat a noyse doe these poore soules make in proclaiming their commodities? each tels what hee hath, and would haue all hearers take notice of it; and yet (GOD wot) it is but poore stuffe that they set out, with so much ostentation; I doe not heare any of the rich Mer­chants talke of what bags hee hath in his chests, or what treasures of rich wares in his store-house; [Page 76] euery man rather desires to hide his wealth; and when he is vrged, is ready to dissemble his ability. No otherwise is it in the true Spirituall riches; hee that is full of Grace, and good workes, affects not to make shew of it to the world, but rests sweetly in the secret testimony of a good Con­science; and the silent applause of GODS spi­rit witnessing with his owne; whiles contrarily the venditation of our owne worth, or parts, or merits, argues a mi­serable indigence in them all; O GOD, if the confessing of thine owne [Page 77] guifts may glorifie thee, my modesty shall not bee guilty of a niggardly vn­thankfulnesse; but for ought that concernes my selfe, I cannot bee too se­cret; Let mee so hide my selfe that I may not wrong thee; and wisely distinguish betwixt thy praise, and my owne. *⁎*

XXXI.
Vpon the Flies gathering to a galled Horse.

HOw these Flyes swarme to the gal­led part of this poore Beast; and there sit fee­ding vpon that worst peece of his flesh; not medling with the other sound parts of his skin; Euen thus doe malicious tongues of Detractors; if a man haue any infirmi­ty in his person or acti­ons, that they will bee sure [...] gather vnto, and dwell vpon: whereas his [Page 79] commendable parts, and well-deseruings are pas­sed by, without menti­on, without regard; It is an enuious selfe-loue, and base cruelty that cau­seth this ill disposition in men; In the meane time this onely they haue gai­ned, it must needs bee a filthy Creature, that feeds vpon no­thing but cor­ruption. *⁎*

XXXII.
Vpon the sight of a darke Lantborne.

THere is light indeed, but so shut vp, as if it were not; and when the side is most open, there is light enough to giue direction to him that beares it, none to others: He can discerne another man by that light, which is cast before him, but another man cannot discerne him; Right such is reserued knowledge; no man is the better for it, but the owner; there is no out­ward difference betwixt concealed skill; and ig­norance; [Page 81] and when such hidden knowledge will looke forth, it casts so sparing a light, as may on­ly argue it to haue an vn­profitable being; to haue ability without vvill to good; power to censure, none to benefit: the sup­pression or ingrossing of those helpes vvhich GOD vvould haue vs to impart, is but a Theeues Lan­thorne in a true mans hand; Oh GOD, as all our light is from thee, the Father of Lights, so make mee no niggard of that poore Rush-candle thou hast lighted in my Soule; make mee more happy in giuing light to others, [Page 82] then in receiuing it into my selfe.

XXXIII.
Vpon the hearing of a Swallow in the Chimney.

HEre is Musicke, such as it is; but how long will it hold! When but a cold morning comes in, my guest is gone, without eyther warning, or thanks; This pleasant season hath the least neede of cheerefull notes; the dead of winter shall want, and wish them in vaine: Thus doth an vngratefull [Page 83] Parasite: no man is more ready to applaud, and in­ioy our prosperity, but when with the times our condition bigins to alter, hee is a stranger at least; Giue mee that Bird which will sing in winter, and seeke to my window in the hardest frost; there is no tryall or friendship but aduersity; Hee that is not ashamed of my bonds, not daunted with my checkes, not aliend with my dis­grace, is a friend for me; One dram of that mans loue, is worth a world of false and inconstant for­mality.

XXXIIII.
Vpon the sight of a Flie burning it selfe in the Candle.

VVIse SALOMON sayes, the light is a pleasant thing; and so certainly it is; but there is no true outward light vvhich proceeds not from fire: The light of that fire then is not more plea­sing, then the fire of that light is dangerous; and that pleasure doth not more draw on our sight, then that danger forbids our approach: How foo­lish is this flye, that in a loue and admiration of [Page 85] this light, will know no distance, but puts it selfe heedlesly into that flame, vvherein it perishes; How many boutes it fetcht, e­uery one nearer then o­ther, ere it made this last venture; and now that mercilesse fire taking no notice of the affection of an ouer-fond Client, hath suddenly consumed it; Thus doe those bold and busie spirits, vvho vvill needs draw too neare vn­to that inacessible light; and looke into things too vvonderfull for them, So long doe they houer a­bout the secret counsailes of the Almighty, till the vvings of their presump­tuous [Page 86] conceits bee scor­ched, and their daring curiositie hath paid them with euerlasting destruc­tion; Oh LORD, let mee bee blessed with the knowledge of what thou hast reuealed, Let mee content my selfe to adore thy diuine wisedome in what thou hast not reuea­led; so let mee inioy thy light, that I may auoyd thy fire. *⁎*

XXXV.
Vpon the sight of a Larke flying vp.

HOw nimbly doth that little Larke mount vp singing towards Heauen, in a right line; whereas the Hauke, which is stronger of body, and swifter of wing, towr [...] vp by many graduall compasses to his highest pitch? that bulke of body, and length of wing hinders a direct ascent, and requires the helpe both of ayre, and scope to aduance his flight; whiles that small bird cuts the ayre with­out resistance, and needs [Page 88] no outward furtherance of her motion; It is no otherwise with the soules of men in flying vp to their Heauen; some are hindered by those powers which would seeme helps to their saring vp thi­ther; great wit, deepe iudgement, quicke ap­prehension, sends men a­bout with no small la­bour for the recouery of their owne incombrance; whiles the good affections of plaine simple soules raises them vp immediate­ly, to the fruition of God; vvhy should vve be proud of that vvhich may slac­ken our vvay to Glory; vvhy should vvee bee dis­hartened [Page 89] vvith the small measure of that, the very vvant whereof may (as the heart may be affected) fa­cilitate our vvay to happi­nesse?

XXXVI.
Vpon the singing of the Birds in a Spring morning.

HOw cheerefully doe these little Birds chirpe and sing out of the naturall ioy they conceiue at the approach of the Sun, and entrance of the Spring; as if their life had departed, and returned [Page 90] with those glorious and comfortable beames; No otherwise is the penitent and faithfull soule affec­ted to the true Sunne of Righteousnes, the Father of lights? When he hides his face, it is troubled, and silently mournes a­way that sad Winter of Affliction; When hee re­turnes, in his presence is the fulnesse of ioy; no song is cheerefull enough to welcome him; Oh thou, who art the GOD of all consolation, make my heart sensible of the sweet comforts of thy gracious presence, and let my mouth euer show forth thy praise.

XXXVII.
Vpon a Coale couered with ashes.

NOthing appeares in this heape, but dead ashes; heere is neyther light, nor smoake, nor heate, and yet, when I stirre vp these embers to the bottome, there are found some liuing gleeds▪ which doe both containe fire, and are apt to propa­gate it; Many a Christi­ans breast is like this hearth; no life of Grace appeares there, for the time, eyther to his owne sence, or to the apprehen­sion of others, whiles [Page 92] the season of temptation lasteth, all seemes cold and dead; yet still at the vvorst, there is a secret coale from the Altar of Heauen rak't vp in their bosome; vvhich vpon the gracious motions of the Almighty, doth both be­wray some Remainders of that diuine fire, and is easily raised to a perfect flame; Nothing is more dangerous then to iudge by appearances: Why should I deiect my selfe, or censure others for the vtter extinction of that spirit, which doth but hide it selfe in the soule for a glorious aduan­tage?

XXXVIII.
Vpon the sight of a Blacke­more.

LOe, there is a Man vvhose hew showes him to bee farre from home, his very skin be­wayes his Climate; it is night in his face, whiles it is day in ours; What a difference there is in men, both in their fashion, and colour; and yet all Chil­dren of one Father? Neither is there lesse va­riety in their insides; their dispositions, iudge­ments, opinions differ as much as their shapes, and complexions, That which [Page 94] is beauty to one, is defor­mity to another; Wee should bee lookt vpon in this mans Country, with no lesse wonder, and strange coynesse, then hee is heere; our whitenesse would passe there for an vnpleasing indigestion of forme; Outward beauty is more in the eye of the beholder, then in the face that is seene; in euery colour that is faire which pleaseth: The very Spouse of Christ can say, I am blacke but comely; this is our colour Spiritually, yet the eye of our graci­ous GOD and Sauiour can see that beautie in vs, wherwith he is delighted; [Page 95] The true MOSES marries a Blackemore, CHRIST his Church: It is not for vs to regard the skin, but the Soule: If that bee in­nocent, pure, holy, the blots of an out-side can­not set vs off from the loue of him who hath said; Behold, thou art faire my Sister, my spouse; if that be foule and blacke, it is not in the power of an Angelicall brightnesse of our hide, to make vs other then a loathsome Eye sore to the Almigh­ty; O GOD., make my inside louely to thee; I know that beauty will hold; whiles weather, casualty, age, disease may [Page 96] deforme the outer-man, and marre both colour and features.

XXXIX.
Vpon the small Starres in the Galaxie or milkie Circle in the Fir­mament.

VVHat a cleere light­somnesse there is in yonder Circle of the Heauen aboue the rest? What can wee suppose the reason of it, but that the light of many sma­ler starres is vnited there, and causes that constant brightnesse? And yet those small starres are not [Page 97] discerned whiles the splen­dor which ariseth from them is so notably re­markable: In this lower heauen of ours, many a man is made conspicuous by his good qualities, and deserts, but I most admire the humility and grace of those, whose vertues and merits are vsefully visible, whiles their per­sons are obscure; It is se­cretly glorious for a man to shine vnseene; Doubt­lesse it is the height that makes those stars so small, and insensible; were they lower, they would bee seene more; there is no true greatnesse without a selfe-humiliation; we shall [Page 98] haue made an ill vse of our aduancement, if by how much higher we are, wee doe not appeare lesse; If our light be seene, it mat­ters not for our hiding.

XL.
Vpon the sight of Boyes playing.

EVery age hath some peculiar contentment; Thus wee did, when wee were of these yeares; Me thinkes I still remember the old feruour of my young pastimes. With what eagernesse and pas­sion doe they pursue these [Page 99] Childish sports; Now, that there is a whole handfull of cherry-stones at the stake, how neare is that boyes heart to his mouth, for feare of his play fellowes next cast? and how exalted with de­sire and hope of his owne speed; those great vn­thrifts who hazard whole Mannors vpon the Dice, cannot expect their chance with more earnestnesse, or entertaine it with more ioy, or griefe: We cannot but now smile to thinke of these poore and foolish pleasures of our Child­hood; there is no lesse disdaine that the Regene­rate man conceiues of the [Page 100] dearest delights of his na­turall condition; He was once iolly, and iocond, in the fruition of the world: feasts and reuels, and games, and dalliance were his life; and no man could bee happy without these; and scarce any man but himselfe; but when once Grace hath made him both good and wise, how scornfully doth hee looke backe at these fond felicities of his carnall e­state; now he findes more manly, more diuine con­tentments; and wonders hee could bee so transpor­ted with his former va­nity. Pleasures are much according as they are e­steemed; [Page 101] One mans de­light is another mans paine; Onely Spirituall and Heauenly things can settle and satiate the heart with a full and firme con­tentation; Oh GOD, thou art not capable eyther of bettering, or of change; let me enioy thee; and I shall pitty the miserable ficklenesse of those that want thee; and shall bee sure to bee constantly happy. *⁎*

XLI.
Vpon the sight of a Spider and her Web.

HOw iustly doe wee admire the curious worke of this Creature? What a thred doth it spin forth? What a web doth it weaue? Yet it is full of deadly poyson; There may bee much venome, where is much Art; Iust like to this is a learned, & witty Heretick; fine con­ceits, and elegant expressi­ons fall from him, but his opinions & secretly-cou­ched doctrines are dange­rous, & mortall; were not that man strangely foo­lish, [Page 103] who because he likes the artificiall drawing out of that web, would there­fore desire to handle, or eate the Spider that made it? Such should bee our madnes, if our wonder at the skill of a false teacher should cast vs into loue with his person, or fami­liarity with his writings; There can bee no safety in our iudgement or af­fection, without a wise distinction; in the want whereof wee must needs wrong GOD, or our selues: GOD, if wee ac­knowledge not what ex­cellent parts hee giues to any Creature; our selues, if vpon the allowance of [Page 104] those excellencies, wee swallow their most dan­gerous enormities.

XLII.
Vpon the sight of a Na­turall.

OH God, Why am not I thus? What hath this man done, that thou hast denyed wit to him? or what haue I done that thou shouldst giue a com­petency of it to mee? What difference is there betwixt vs but thy boun­ty, which hath bestowed vpon mee what I could not merit, and hath with­held [Page 105] from him what hee could not challenge. All is, O God, in thy good pleasure, whether to giue, or deny; Neither is it o­therwise in matter of Grace. The vnregenerate man is a Spirituall foole; no man is truly wise but the renewed; how is it, that whiles I see another man besotted with the va­nity and corruption of his nature; I haue attained to know God, and the great mystery of Saluation, to abhorre those sins which are pleasing to a wicked appetite? Who hath dis­cerned me? Nothing but thy free mercy, O my GOD; why else was I a [Page 106] Man not a brute Beast? Why right shaped, not a Monster? Why perfectly limmed, not a cripple? Why well-fensed, not a foole? Why well affected, not graceles? why a vessell of honour, not of wrath? If ought be not ill in mee, O LORD, it is thine; Oh let thine bee the praise, and mine the thankful­nesse.

XLIII.
Vpon the Loadstone and the Iett.

AS there is a ciuil com­merce amongst men for the preseruation of humane Society, so there is a naturall commerce which GOD hath set a­mongst the other Crea­tures for the maintenance of their common being; There is scarce any thing therefore in nature, which hath not a power of at­tracting some other; The fire drawes vapors to it, the Sunne drawes the fire-Plants drawes moysture, the Moone drawes the [Page 108] Sea, all purgatiue things draw their proper hu­mors, a naturall instinct drawes all sensitiue Crea­tures to affect their owne kinde; and euen in those things which are of im­perfect mixtion, wee see this experimented, So as the senselesse stones and mettals are not voyd of this actiue ver­tue; the loadstone drawes Iron, and the iett, rather then nothing, drawes vp strawes, and dust; with what a force do both these stones worke vpon their seuerall Subiects; is there any thing more heauy and vnapt for motion then I­ron, or steele? Yet these [Page 109] doe so run to their belo­ued loadstone, as if they had the sence of a desire and delight; and doe so cling to the point of it, as if they had forgotten their weight for this ad­herence. Is their any thing more apt for dispersion then small strawes, and dust? yet these gather to the Iett, and so sensibly leape vp to it, as if they had a kind of ambition to be so perferred;

Me thinks, I see in these two a meere Embleme of the hearts of men, & their spirituall attractiues; The grace of Gods spirit, like the true Loadstone, or A­damant, drawes vp the [Page 110] yron heart of man to it, and holds it in a constant fixednesse of holy purpo­ses, and good actions; The world like the Iett drawes vp the sensuall hearts of light and Vaine men, and holds them fast in the pleasures of sin. I am thine yron, O Lord, be thou my Loadstone. Draw thou mee and I shall run after thee: Knit my heart vnto thee that I may feare thy name. *⁎*

XLIIII.
Vpon hearing of Musicke by night.

HOw sweetly doth this Musicke sound in this dead season? In the day time it would not, it could not so much af­fect the eare? All har­monious sounds are ad­uanced by a silent darke­nesse; Thus it is with the glad tidings of Saluati­on; The Gospell neuer sounds so sweet, as in the night of persecution, or of our owne priuate afflicti­on; It is euer the same, the difference is in our disposi­tion to receiue it. O God, [Page 112] whose praise it is to giue songs in the night, make my prosperity consciona­ble, and my crosses cheer­full.

XLV.
Vpon the fanning of Corne.

SEe how in the fanning of this Wheat, the fullest and greatest graines lye euer the lowest; and the lightest take vp the highest place; It is no o­therwise in mortalitie; those which are most humble, are fullest of Grace; and oft times those haue most conspicuity, which haue the least sub­stance; [Page 113] To affect obscurity or submission, is base and suspicious; but that man whose modesty presents him meane to his owne eyes, and lowly to others, is commonly secretly rich in vertue; Giue me rather a low fulnesse then an empty aduancement;

XLVI.
Vpon Herbs dryed.

THey say those herbes will keepe best, and will longer retaine both their hewe and verdure, which are dryed thus in the shade, then those which are suddainly [Page 114] scorched with fire, or Sunne;

Those wits are like to bee most durable, which are closely tutored with a leisurely education;

Time and gentle Con­stancy ripens better then a suddaine violence; Ney­ther is it otherwise in our spirituall condition; A wilfull slacknesse is not more dangerous, then an ouer-hastening of our per­fection; If I may be euery moment drawing nearer to the end of my hope, I shall not wish to precipi­tate.

XLVII.
Vpon the quenching of Iron in water.

HArke how that Iron quenched in the wa­ter hisseth, and makes that noyse, which whiles it was cold, or dry, it would neuer make; wee cannot quench hot and vnruly desires in youth without some mutiny, and rebelli­ous opposition.

Corruptions cannot be subdu'd without some re­lucation, and that relucta­tion cannot bee without some tumult: After some short noyse, and smoake, and bubbling, the mettall is quiet and holds to the [Page 116] forme, whereinto it is beaten, O GOD, why should it trouble mee to finde my good indea­uours resisted, for the little brunt of a change, whiles I am sure this in­surrection shall end in an happie peace?

XLVIII.
Vpon a faire coloured Fly.

WHat a pleasant mixture of colors there is in this Flye; and yet they say, no flye is so venemous as this; which by the outward touch of the hand cor­rodes [Page 117] the inmost passages of the body;

It is no trusting to co­lours, and shapes; wee may wonder at their Ex­cellency; without do­tage vpon their Beautie. Homelinesse makes lesse shew, and hath lesse dan­ger; Giue mee inward vertue and vsefulnesse; let others care for outward glory.

XLIX.
Vpon a Glow-worme.

WHat a cold Can­dle is lighted vp in the body of this [Page 118] sorry Worme? There needs no other disproofe of those that say there is no light at all without some heate; Yet sure an outward heate helps on this coole light; Neuer did I see any of these bright wormes but in the hote moneths of Summer; in cold seasons, eyther they are not, or appeare not, when the nights are both darkest, and longest, and most vncomfortable. Thus doe false-hearted Christians in the warme and lightsome times of free and incouraged pro­fession, none shine more then they; In hard & gloo­my seasons of restraint, [Page 119] and persecution all their formal light is eyther lost, or hid; Whereas true Pro­fessors eyther like the Sun shine euer alike, or, like the Starres, shine fairest in the frostiest nights: The light of this worme is for some shew, but for no vse; any light that is at­tended with heate can im­part it selfe to others, though with the expence of that subiect wherein it is; this doth neither wast it selfe, nor helpe others; I had rather neuer to haue light, then not to haue it alwayes; I had rather not to haue light; then not to communicate it.

L.
Vpon the shutting of one Eye.

WHen wee would take ayme, or see most exquisitely, wee shut one eye: Thus must wee doe with the eyes of our Soule; When wee would looke most accurately with the eye of Faith, wee must shut the eye of Reason; else the visuall beames of these two ap­prehensions, will bee crossing each other, and hinder our cleare dis­cerning; Yea rather, let mee pull out this right eye of Reason, [Page 121] then it shall offend mee in the interruptions of mine happy Visions of GOD.

LI.
Vpon a Spring-water.

HOw this Spring smo­keth, whiles other greater Channels are fro­zen vp; this water is li­uing, whiles they are dead; All experience teacheth vs that Well-waters ari­sing from deepe springs, are hotter in Winter, then in Summer; the outward cold doth keepe in, and double their inward heat. [Page 122] Such is a true Christian in the euill day; his life of Grace gets more vigor by opposition; hee had not beene so gracious, if the times had beene bet­ter; I will not say hee may thanke his enemies, but I must say hee may thanke God for his Enemies; O GOD, what can put out that heate, which is in­creased with cold? How happy shall I be, if I may grow so much more in Grace, as the World in Malice? *⁎*

LII.
Vpon Gnats in the Sunne.

VVHat a Cloud of Gnats is heere? Marke their motion; they doe nothing but play vp and downe in the warme Sunne, and sing; and when they haue done, sit downe and sting the next hand, or face they can seize vp­on; See heere a perfect embleme of Idlenesse and Detraction; how many do thus miserably mispend their good houres? Who after they haue wasted the succeeding dayes in vaine, and meerely-vnprofitable pastime, sit downe, and [Page 124] backe-bite their Neigh­bours. The Bee sings too sometimes, but shee workes also: and her worke is not more admi­rable, then vsefull; but these foolish Flyes, doe nothing but play, and sing to no purpose; euen the busiest, and most actiue spirits most recreate, but to make a Trade of sport, is for none but lazie Wantons.

The Bee stings too; but it is when shee is prouo­ked; these draw blood, vnoffended, and sting for their owne pleasure: I would bee glad of some recreation but to enable, and sweeten my worke; I [Page 125] would not but sting some­times where is iust cause of offence. But God blesse mee from those men, which will euer bee eyther doing nothing, or ill.

LIII.
Vpon the sight of Grapes.

MArke the difference of these Grapes; There you see a cluster, whose grapes touch one another, well ripened; heere you see some strag­lers, which grow almost solitarily, greene and hard. It is thus with vs, Christian societie helpeth [Page 126] our progresse; And, woe to him that is alone; Hee is well, that is the better for others; but he is hap­py by whom others are better.

LIIII.
Vpon a Corne field ouer­growne with Weeds.

HEere were a goodly field of Corne, if it were not ouer-laid with Weeds; I doe not like these reds, and blewes, and yellowes, amongst these plaine stalkes and eares: This beauty would doe well else-where; I [Page 127] had rather to see a plot lesse faire, and more yeil­ding; In this Field I see a true picture of the World; wherein there is more Glory, then true substance; Wherein the greater part carries it from the better; Where­in the natiue Sonnes of the Earth out-strip the aduentitious brood of grace; Wherein Parasites and vnprofitable hang­byes doe both rob, and o­ver-top their Masters; Both Field and World grow alike, looke alike; and shall end alike; both are for the fire; whiles the homely and solide eares of despised Vertue [Page 128] shall be for the garners of immortality.

LV.
Vpon the sight of Tulipaes and Marygolds, &c. in his Gar­den.

THese Flowers are true Clients of the Sunne; how obseruant they are of his motion, and influ­ence? At euen, they shut vp, as mourning for his departure, without whom they neyther can nor would flourish, in the morning, they welcome his rising with a cheereful [Page 129] opennesse, and at noone, are fully display'd in a free acknowledgment of his bounty: Thus doth the good heart vnto God; When thou turnedst a­way thy face I was trou­bled, saith the man after Gods owne heart; In thy presence is life, yea the fulnesse of ioy: Thus doth the carnall heart to the world; when that with­drawes his fauour, hee is deiected; and reuiues with a smile: All is in our choyse; whatsoeuer is our Sun will thus carry vs; O God, bee thou to mee, such as thou art in thy selfe; thou shalt bee mer­cifull in drawing mee; I [Page 130] shall bee happy in follow­ing thee.

LVI.
Vpon the sound of a crack't Bell.

WHat an harsh sound doth this Bell make in euery eare? The Mettall is good e­nough; it is the rifte that makes it so vnpleasingly iarring; How too like is this Bell to a scanda­lous and ill-liued Tea­cher? His calling is ho­nourable; his noyse is heard farre enough; but the flawe (which is no­ted [Page 131] in his life) marres his Doctrine; and offends those eares which else would take pleasure in his teaching; It is pos­sible that such a one, e­uen by that discordous noyse may ring in others into the Tryumphant Church of Heauen; but there is no remedy for himselfe but the fire; whether for his reforming, or iudg­ment. *⁎*

LVII.
Vpon the sight of a blinde Man.

HOw much am I bound to GOD that hath giuen mee eyes to see this Mans want of eyes? With what suspition and feare he walkes? How doth his hand and staffe examine his way? With what iea­lousie doth he receiue eue­ry morsell, euery draught, and yet meets with many a post, and stumbles at many a stone, and swal­lowes many a flye. To him the world is as if it were not, or as if it were [Page 133] all rubbes, and snares, and downfalls; And if any man will lend him an hand, he must trust to his (how euer faithlesse) guide without all comfort saue this, that hee cannot see himselfe mis-carry. Many a one is thus Spiritually blind, and because hee is so, discernes it not; and not discerning complaines not of so wofull a condi­tion. The God of this world hath blinded the eyes of the Children of disobedience; they walke on in the wayes of death; and yield themselues ouer to the guidance of him who seekes for nothing but their precipitation in­to [Page 134] Hell. It is an addition to the misery of this in­ward occaecation, that it is euer ioyned with a se­cure confidence in them whose trade and ambition is to betray their Soules.

What euer become of these outward sences which are common to mee with the meanest, and most despicable crea­tures; O Lord, giue mee not ouer to that Spirituall darknesse, which is inci­dent to none but those that liue without thee, and must perish eter­nally, because they want thee.

LVIII.
Vpon a Beech-tree full of Nuts.

HOw is this Tree o­uerladen with mast, this yeare? It was not so the last; neither will it (I warrant you) bee so the next; It is the Nature of these free Trees, so to powre out themselues in­to fruit, at once, that they seeme afterwards eyther sterile, or nig­gardly: So haue I seene pregnant wits (not dis­creetly gouerned) ouer­spend themselues in some one maister-peece so la­uishly, that they haue [Page 136] prooued eyther barren, or poore and flatt in all other subiects. True-Wisedome as it serues to gather due sap both for nourishment, and fructi­fication, so it guides the seasonable and mo­derate bestowing of it in such manner, as that one season may not be a glut­ton, vvhiles others fa­mish: I vvould be glad to attaine to that measure and temper that vpon all occasions I might al­wayes haue enough, neuer too much.

LIX.
Vpon the sight of a peece of Mony vnder the Water.

I Should not vvish ill to a Couetous man, if I should wish all his Coine in the bottome of the Ri­uer; No pauement could so well become that streame; no sight could better fit his greedy de­sires; for there euery peece, vvould seeme double, euery teston would appeare a shilling, euery Crowne an Angell. It is the nature of that e­lement to greaten appea­ring quantities; vvhiles [Page 138] wee looke through the ayre vpon that solide bo­dy, it can make no other representations: Neither is it otherwise in spiritu­all eyes, and obiects; if wee looke with carnall eyes through the interpo­sed meane of sensuality, euery base and worthlesse pleasure will seeme a large contentment; if with weake eyes wee shall looke at small and imma­teriall truthes aloofe off, in another element of ap­prehension, euery parcell thereof shall seeme maine, and essentiall; hence eue­ry knack of heraldry in the sacred genealogies, & euery Scholasticall quirke [Page 139] in disquisitions of Diuini­ty, are made matters of no lesse then life, and death to the Soule. It is a great improuement of true wisedome to be able to see things as they are, and to value them as they are seene. Let mee labour for that power and stay­ednesse of iudgment, that neither my senses may deceiue my mind, nor the obiect may de­lude my sense. *⁎*

LX.
Vpon the first rumour of the Earth-quake at Lime, wherein a Wood was swallowed vp with the fall of two Hills.

GOod LORD; how doe wee know when wee are sure? If there were Man or Beast in that-Wood, they seemed as safe as wee now are; they had nothing but Heauen aboue them, nothing but firme Earth below them; and yet in what a dreadfull pit-fall were they instantly taken; There is no fence for [Page 141] Gods hand; A man would as soone haue fea­red that Heauen would fall vpon him, as those Hills? It is no pleasing our selues with the vn­likelyhood of diuine iudgemens. We haue oft heard of Hills couered with Woods, but of Woods couered with Hills I thinke neuer till now; Those that planted or sowed those Woods, intended they should bee spent with fire, but, Loe, GOD meant they should bee deuoured with Earth;

Wee are wont to de­scribe impossibilities by the meeting of Moun­taines, [Page 142] and behold heere two Mountaines are met, to swallow vp a Valley; What a good God it is whose prouidence ouer­rules, and disposes of all these euents?

Townes or Cities might as well haue beene thus buried, as a solitary Dale, or a shrubby Wood: Certainly the God that did this, would haue the vse of it reach further then the noyse; this hee did, to show vs what hee could, what hee might doe; If our hearts doe not quake, and rend at the acknowledge­ment of his infinite Pow­er, and feare of his ter­rible [Page 143] iudgements as well as that Earth did, we must expect to bee made war­nings, that would take none.

LXI.
Vpon the sight of a Dor­mouse.

AT how easie a rate doe these Creatures liue that are fed with rest; So the Beare and the Hedge-hog (they say) spend their whole winter in sleepe, and rise vp fat­ter then they lay downe; How oft haue I enuyed the thriuing drowsinesse [Page 144] of these Beasts; When the toyle of thoughts hath bereaued mee of but one houres sleepe; and left mee languishing to a new taske; and yet, when I haue vvell digested the comparison of both these conditions, I must needs say, I had rather vvaste vvith vvorke, then batten vvith ease; & would rather choose a life profitably painfull, then vselessely dull and delicate. I can­not tell vvhether I should say those Creatures liue, vvhich doth nothing; since vve are vvont euer to no­tifie life by motion; Sure I am their life is not vi­tall; For mee, Let me ra­ther [Page 145] complaine of a mind that vvill not let mee bee idle, then of a body that vvill not let mee vvorke.

LXII.
Vpon Bees fighting.

VVHat a pitty it is to see these profi­table, industrious Crea­tures fall so furiously vp­on each other, and thus sting and kill each other, in the very mouth of the Hiue; I could like vvell to see the Bees doe this execution vpon Waspes, and droanes, e­nemies [Page 146] to their common stocke, this sauours but of Iustice; But to see them fall foule vpon those of their owne wing, it cannot but trouble their owner, vvho must needs bee an equall leeser by the victory of eyther; There is no more perfect reesemblance of a Com­mon-vvealth, vvhether ci­uill, or sacred, then in an Hiue: The Bees are pain­full and honest Compa­triots, labouring to bring Waxe and Hony to the maintenance of the pub­like state; The Waspes and Droanes are vnpro­fitable and harmefull Hangbyes, which liue [Page 147] vpon the spoyle of others labours; whether as com­mon Barattors, or strong Theeues, or bold Para­sites, they doe nothing but robbe their Neighbours. It is an happie sight vvhen these feele the dint of Iu­stice, and are cut off from doing further mischiefe; But to see well-affected and beneficiall Subiects vndoe themselues vvith duells, vvhether of Law, or Sword; to see good Christians of the same profession, shedding each others blood, vpon quar­rels of Religion, is no o­ther then a sad and hateful spectacle; and so much the more, by hovv [Page 148] much wee haue more meanes of reason and Grace to compose our differences, and cor­rect our offensiue conten­tiousnesse; Oh GOD, who art at once the Lord of Host, and Prince of Peace, giue vs warre with spirituall wickednes, and Peace with our Bre­then. *⁎*

LXIII.
Vpon Waspes falling into a Glasse.

SEe you that narrow­mouthed glasse, vvhich is set neare to the Hiue, marke how busily the Waspes resort to it; be­ing drawne thither by the smell of that sweet liquor vvherewith it is bayted; see how eagerly they creepe into the mouth of it; and fall downe sud­dainely from that slippe­ry steepnesse, into that watery trap, from which they can neuer rise; there, after some vaine labour, and wearinesse, they [Page 150] drowne, and dye; You doe not see any of the Bees looke that way; they passe directly to their Hiue, without any no­tice taken of such a plea­sing Bayt; Idle and ill dis­posed persons are drawne away with euery tempta­tion; they haue both leisure and will to inter­taine euery sweet allure­ment to sin, and wanton­ly prosecute their owne wicked lusts till they fall into irrecouerable dam­nation;

Whereas the diligent and laborious Christian, that followes hard and conscionably the workes of an honest calling, is [Page 151] free from the danger of these deadly intisements, and layes vp hony of com­fort against the Winter of euill; Happy is that man who can see and in­ioy the successe of his la­bour; but, how euer, this wee are sure of; if our labour cannot pur­chase the good wee would haue, it shall preuent the euill wee would auoyd. *⁎*

LXIIII.
Vpon a Spring in a wilde Forrest.

LOe heere the true patterne of Bounty; What cleare chrystall streames are heere, and how liberally doe they gush forth and hasten downe, vvith a pleasing murmur, into the Valley; Yet you see neyther Man nor Beast, that takes part of that vvholsome and pure vvater; It is enough, that those may dip vvho vvill; the refusall of o­thers doth no whit abate of this proffered plenty; Thus bountifull House­keepers [Page 153] keepers hold on their set ordinary prouision, whe­ther they haue guests, or no; Thus conscionable Preachers powre out the liuing Waters of whol­some Doctrine, whether their Hearers partake of those blessed meanes of Saluation, or neglect their holy indeauours; Let it bee our comfort that wee haue beene no niggards of thes coelesti­all streames, let the world giue an account of the improue­ment.

LXV.
Vpon the sight of an Owle in the twi­light.

WHat a strange Me­lancholicke life doth this Creature lead; to hide her head, all the day long, in an yuie-bush, and at night, when all o­ther Birds are at rest, to flye abroad, and vent her harsh notes; I know not why the ancients haue sa­cred this Bird to wise­dome, except it be for her safe closenesse, and singu­lar perepicacity; that when other domesticall and ayrie Creatures are [Page 155] blind, shee onely hath inward light to discerne the least obiects for her owne aduantage; Surely thus much wit they haue taught vs in her; that hee is the wisest man, that would haue least to doe with the multitude; that no life is so safe as the ob­scure; that retirednesse, if it haue lesse comfort, yet lesse danger and vexa­tion; Lastly, that hee is truly wise who sees by a light of his owne, when the rest of the world sit in an ignorant and confu­sed darknesse, vnable to apprehend any truth, saue by the helpes of an out­ward illumination.

[Page 156] Had this Fowle comne forth in the day time, how had all the little Birds flock't wondring about her, to see her vn­couth visage, to heare her vntuned notes; shee likes her estate neuer the worse, but pleaseth her selfe in her owne quiet reserued­nesse; It is not for a wise man to bee much affected with the censures of the rude and vnskilfull vul­gar, but to hold fast vn­to his owne well-chosen and well-fixed resoluti­ons; Euery foole knowes what is wont to be done; but what is best to bee done, is knowne onely to the wise.

LXVI.
Vpon an arme benum­med.

HOw benummed and (for the time) sen­selesse is this arme of mine becomne, onely with too long leaning vpon it?

Whiles I vsed it to o­ther seruices, it fayled mee not, now that I haue rested vpon it, I finde cause to complaine; It is no trusting to an arme of flesh; On whatsoeuer occasion we put our con­fidence therein, this re­lyance will bee sure to [Page 158] end in paine, and disap­pointment; O GOD, thine arme is strong and mighty; all thy Crea­tures rest themselues vp­on that, and are com­fortably sustained; Oh that wee were not more capable of distrust, then thine omnipotent hand is of weari­nesse and sub­duction. *⁎*

LXVII.
Vpon the Sparkes flying vpward.

IT is a feeling compari­son (that of IOB) of man borne to labour, as the sparkes to flye vp­ward; That motion of theirs is no other then naturall; Neyther is it otherwise for man to la­bour; his minde is crea­ted actiue, and apt to some or other ratiocina­tion; his ioynts all stir­ring; his nerues made for helps of mouing; and his occasions of liuing call him forth to action: So [Page 160] as an idle man doth not more want Grace, then degenerate from Nature. Indeed, at the first kindling of the fire, some sparkes are wont, by the impulsion of the Bellowes, to flie forward, or sideward; and euen so, in our first Age, youthly vanity may moue vs to irregular courses; but when those first vi­olences are ouercome; and wee haue attained to a setlednesse of dis­position, our sparkes flye vp, our life is la­bour; And why should wee not doe that, which we are made for? Why should not GOD ra­ther [Page 161] grudge vs our be­ing, then wee grudge him our worke? It is no thanke to vs that wee la­bour out of necessity; out of my obedience to thee, O GOD I de­sire euer to bee imploy­ed; I shall neuer haue comfort in my toyle, if it be rather a puruey­ance for my selfe, then a Sacrifice to thee. *⁎*

LXVIII.
Vpon the sight of a Ra­uen.

I Cannot see that Bird but I must needs thinke of ELIAH; and won­der no lesse at the miracle of his faith then of his prouision; It was a strong beleefe that carryed him into a desolate retired­nesse to expect food from Rauens; This fowle, wee know, is rauenous; all is too little that hee can fo­rage for himselfe; and the Prophets reason must needs suggest to him, that in a dry barren De­sart [Page 163] bread and flesh must be great dainties; yet he goes aside to expect vic­tuals from that puruey­ance; Hee knew this Fowle to bee no lesse greedy, then vncleane; Vncleane, as in Law, so in the nature of his seed; What is his ordinary prey but loathsome car­rion? Yet since GOD had appointed him this Cator, he stands nor vpon the nice points of a fasti­dious squeamishnesse, but confidently depends vp­on that vncouth prouisi­on; And accordingly, these vnlikely puruey­ours bring him bread and flesh in the Morning, and [Page 164] bread and flesh in the Euening.

Not one of those hun­gry Rauens could swal­low one morsell of those viandes, which were sent, by them, to a better mouth; The Riuer of Cherith sooner fayled him, then the tender of their Seruice No doubt, ELIAHS stomacke was often vp before that his incurious dyet came; When expecting from the mouth of his Caue, out of what Coast of Heauen these his Seruitors might bee descryed, vpon the sight of them, hee mag­nified, with a thankefull heart, the wonderfull [Page 165] goodnesse and truth of his GOD; and was nou­rished more with his faith, then with his food: O GOD, how infinite is thy prouidence, wise­dome, power? We crea­tures are not what wee are, but what thou wilt haue vs; when thy turne is to be serued, wee haue none of our owne; Giue mee but faith, and doe what thou wilt.

LXIX.
Vpon a Worme.

IT was an homely ex­pression which GOD makes of the state of his Church, Feare not, thou Worme IACOB; E­uery foot is ready to tread on this despised Crea­ture; Whiles it keepes it selfe in that cold ob­scure Cell of the earth (wherein it was hidden) it lay safe, because it was secret, but now that it hath put it selfe forth; of that close Ca [...]e, and hath presented it selfe to the light of the Sunne, to the eye of Passengers; [Page 167] how is it vexed with the scorching beames, and wrings vp and downe, in an helplesse perplexity; not finding where to shrowd it selfe; how ob­noxious is it to the foules of the ayre, to the feet of men, and beasts? He that made this Creature such, and calls his Church so, well knew the answerable­nesse of their condition: How doth the World o­uer-looke, and contemne that little slocke, whose best-gard hath euer bin se­crecy? And if euer that despicable number haue dared to shew it selfe, how hath it [...] scorched, and tramp [...]ed vpon, and [Page 168] intertained with all vari­ety of Persecution? O Sauiour, thy Spouse fares no otherwise then thy selfe; to match her fully, thou hast said of thy selfe, I am a Worme and no man; Such thou wert in thine humbled estate, here on earth; such thou wouldst bee; But, as it is a true word that hee who made the Angels in Hea­uē, made also the Wormes on earth, so it is no lesse true, that hee who made himselfe and his Church Wormes vpon Earth, hath raised our nature in his person aboue the Angels, and our person in his Church to little [Page 169] lesse then Angels; It mat­ters not how wee fare in this Valley of tears, whiles wee are sure; of that in­finite amends of Glory aboue.

LXX.
Vpon the putting on of his Cloathes.

VVHat a poore thing were Man, if hee were not beholden to o­ther Creatures? The Earth affords him flaxe for his linnen, bread for his belly, the Beasts his ordinary cloathes, the Silke-worme his brauery; [Page 170] the backe and bowels of the Earth his mettals and fuell; the Fishes, Fowles, Beasts his nourishment; His wit indeed workes vpon all these, to im­proue them to his owne aduantage; but they must yield him materials, else hee subsists not. And yet wee fooles are proud of our selues, yea proud of the cast Suites of the very basest Creatures: There is not one of them that haue so much need of vs; They would in­ioy themselues the more, if Man were not; Oh GOD, the more wee are sensible of our owne indigence, the more let [Page 171] vs wonder at thine al­sufficiency in thy selfe; and long for that happie condition, wherein thou (which art all perfecti­on) shalt bee all in all to vs.

LXXI.
Vpon the sight of a great Library.

VVHat a world of wit is here pack't vp together? I know not whether this sight doth more dismay, or com­fort me; it dismayes me to thinke, that heere is so much that I cannot [Page 172] know; It comforts mee, to thinke that this varie­ty yeelds so good helps to know what I should; There is no truer word then that of SALO­MON, There is no end of making many Bookes; this sight verifies it; There is no end; indeed, it were pitty there should. GOD hath giuen to Man a busie Soule; the a­gitation whereof, cannot but through time and experience, worke out many hidden truthes; to suppresse these would bee no other then iniuri­ous to Mankind; whose minds like vnto so many candles, should bee kind­led [Page 173] by each other: The thoughts of our delibe­ration are most accurate; these wee vent into our Papers; What an happi­nesse is it, that, without all offence of Necroman­cy, I may here call vp a­ny of the ancient Wor­thies of learning, whe­ther humane, or diuine, and conferre with them of all my doubts? That I can at pleasure summon whole Synodes of Reue­rend Fathers, and acute Doctors from all the Coasts of the Earth; to giue their well-studyed iudgements in all points of question which I pro­pose? Neyther can I [Page 174] cast my eye casually vp­on any of these silent Maisters, but I must learne somewhat: It is a wantonnesse to complaine of choyse;

No Law bindes vs to read all; but the more we can take in, and digest, the better-liking must the minds needs bee; Blessed bee GOD that hath set vp so many cleare Lamps in his Church.

Now, none but the wilfully blind can plead darknesse; And blessed bee the memory of those his faithfull Seruants, that haue left their bloud, their spirits, their liu [...] in these precious Papers▪ [Page 175] and haue willingly wasted themselues into these du­ring Monuments, to giue light vnto others.

LXXII.
Vpon the red Crosse on a doore.

OH signe fearefully sig­nificant; this Sick­nesse is a Crosse indeed, and that a bloudy one; both the forme and the colour import Death; The Israelites doores whose lintells were be­sprinkled with blood, were passed ouer by the destroying Angell; here, [Page 176] the destroying Angell hath smitten, and hath left this marke of his deadly blow; Wee are wont to fight cheerefully vnder this Ensigne a­broad, and be victorious; Why should we tremble at it at home? Oh GOD, there thou fightest for vs, heere against vs; Vn­der that wee haue fought for thee, but vnder this (because our sinnes haue fought against thee) wee are fought against by thy iudgements.

Yet Lord, it is thy Crosse, though an heauy one; It is ours by me­rit, thine by imposition; O Lord, sanctifie thine [Page 177] affliction, and remoue thy vengeance.

LXXIII.
Vpon the change of Weather.

I Know not whether it be worse, that the Hea­uen looke vpon vs al­wayes with one face, or euer varying; for as continuall change of Weather causes vncer­tainty of health, so a permanent setlednesse of one season, causeth a cer­tainty of distemper; per­petuall moysture disolues vs, perpetuall heate [Page 178] euaporates or inflames vs; cold stupefies vs, drought obstructs and withers vs; Neither is it otherwise in the state of the minde; if our thoughts should bee alwayes Volatile, chan­ging, inconstant, wee should neuer attaine to a­ny good habite of the Soule, whether in mat­ter of iudgement, or dis­position; but if they should bee alwayes fix­ed, wee should run into the danger of some dis­perate extremity; to bee euer thinking, would make vs mad; to bee euer thinking of our crosses, or sinnes, would make vs hartlesly deiected; to [Page 179] bee euer thinking of Plea­sures and Contentments, would melt vs into a loose Wantonnesse; to bee euer doubting, and fearing, were an Hellish seruitude; to bee euer bold, and confident, were a dangerous pre­sumption; but the in­terchanges of these in a due moderation, keepe the Soule in health; O GOD, howsoeuer these Variations bee necessarie for my Spirituall con­dition; Let mee haue no Weather but Sunne­shine from thee; Doe thou lift vp the light of thy countenance vpon mee; and stablish mee [Page 180] euer with thy free Spi­rit.

LXXIIII.
Vpon the sight of a Marri­age.

WHat a comfor­table and feeling resemblance is heere of CHRIST, and his Church: I regard not the persons, I regard the institution; Neyther the Husband, nor the Wife are now any more their owne; they haue eyther of them giuen ouer them­selues, to other; not onely the Wife, which [Page 181] is the weaker vessell, hath yeilded ouer her selfe to the stronger protection, and participation of an abler head; but the Hus­band hath resigned his right in himselfe ouer to his feebler consort; So as now, her weaknesse is his; his strength is hers; Yea their very flesh hath altered property; hers is his, his is hers; Yea their very Soule and Spi­rit may no more bee se­uered in respect of mu­tuall affection, then from their owne seuerall bo­dyes: It is thus, O Sa­uiour, with thee and thy Church; Wee are not our owne, but thine; [Page 182] who hast married vs to thy selfe in truth and righteousnesse; What po­wers, what indowments haue wee but from, and in thee? And as our ho­ly boldnesse dares inte­resse our selues in thy graces, so thy wonderful­ly-compassionate mercy vouchsaues to interesse thy selfe in our infirmi­ties; thy poore Church suffers on Earth, thou fee­lest in Heauen; & as com­plaining of our stripes, canst say, Why persecutest thou mee?

Thou againe art not so thine owne, as that thou art not also ours; thy Sufferings, thy Merits, [Page 183] thy Obedience, thy Life, Death, Resurrection, As­scension, Intercession, Glory; yea thy blessed Humanity, yea thy glori­ous Deity, by vertue of our right, of our Vnion, are so ours, as that wee would not giue our part in thee for ten thousand Worlds.

Oh gracious Sauiour, as thou canst not but loue and cherish this poore and vnworthie Soule of mine, which thou hast mercifully espoused to thy selfe; so giue mee Grace to honour and obey thee, and forsaking all the base and sinfull ri­uality of the World, to [Page 184] hold mee onely vnto thee whiles I liue here, that I may perfectly inioy thee heereafter.

LXXV.
Vpon the sight of a Snake.

I Know not what hor­ror wee finde in our selues at the sight of a Serpent? Other Crea­tures are more loathsome, and some no lesse deadly then it; yet, there is none, at which our bloud riseth so much, as at this; Whence should this bee, but out of an instinct of our old enmitie? Wee [Page 185] were stung in Paradise, and cannot but feele it: But here is our weaknesse; It was not the body of the Serpent that could haue hurt vs, without the sug­gestion of sinne; and yet wee loue the sinne whiles wee hate the Serpent; E­uery day are wee woun­ded with the sting of that old Serpent, and com­plaine not; and so much more deadly is that sting, by how much it is lesse felt: There is a sting of guilt, and there is a sting of remorse; there is mortall venome in the first, whereof wee are the least sensible; there is lesse danger in the second; [Page 186] The Israelites found thē ­selues stung by those fiery Serpents in the Desart; and the sense of their paine sent them to seeke for Cure; The World is our Desart; and as the sting of Death is Sinne; so the sting of Sinne is Death; I doe not more with to finde ease then paine; If I complaine e­nough, I cannot faile of cure; O thou, which art the true brazen Serpent, lifted vp in this Wilder­nesse, raise vp mine eyes to thee, and fasten them vpon thee; thy mercy shall make my soule whole, my wound soueraigne.

LXXVI.
Vpon the ruines of an Abby.

IT is not so easie to say what it was that built vp these Walles, as what it was, that pull'd them downe; euen the wicked­nesse of the Possessours;

Euery stone hath a tongue to accuse the Su­perstition, Hypocrisie, Idlenesse, Luxury of the late owners.

Me thinkes I see it writ­ten all along, in Capitall letters vpon these heapes; A fruitfull Land maketh hee barren for the iniquity of them that dwell therein; [Page 188] Perhaps there wanted not some Sacriledge in the Demolishers; in all the carriage of these busines­ses, there was a iust hand, that knew hovv to make an vvholsome and profi­table vse of mutuall sins; Full little did the Buil­ders, or the in-dwellers thinke that this costly and warme Fabricke should so soone end violently in a desolate rubbish: It is not for vs to be high-minded, but to feare; No Roofe is so hye, no Wall so strong, as that sinne cannot leuell it with the Dust; Were any pile so close that it could keepe out ayre, yet it could not keepe out [Page 189] iudgement where sinne hath beene fore-admit­ted;

In vaine shall wee pro­mise stability to those Houses which wee haue made witnesses of, and ac­cessaries to our shamefull vncleannesses, The firm­nesse of any building is not so much in the mat­ter, as in the owner, Hap­py is that Cottage that hath an honest maister, and woe bee to that Pa­lace that is vici­ously inhabi­ted.

LXXVII.
Vpon the discharging of a Peece.

GOod LORD; how witty men are to kill one another? What fine deuises they haue found out to murder a farre off? To slay many at once; and so to fetch off liues; that whiles a whole Lane is made of Carcasses with one blow, no body knowes who hurt him? And what honour doe wee place in slaughter? Those armes, wherein wee pride our selues, are such, as which, wee, or our Ancestors haue purchased with [Page 191] blood? The Monuments of our Glory, are the spoyles of a subdu'd and slaine Enemy; Where con­trarily, all the titles of God sound of Mercy, and gracious respects to Man: God the Father is the ma­ker and preseruer of men; God the Sonne is the Sa­uiour of Mankind; God the Holy Ghost styles himselfe the Comforter: Alas, whose image doe we beare in this disposition, but his, whose true title is the Destroyer? It is ea­sie to take away the life, it is not easie to giue it; Giue mee the man that can deuise how to saue Troupes of men from [Page 192] killing, his name shall haue roome in my Ca­lender; There is more true honour in a Ciuick garland, for the preseruing of one Subiect, then in a Lawrell, for the victory of many Enemies; Oh God; there are enow that bend their thoughts to vndoe what thou hast made, enable thou mee to bestow my indeauors in repriuing, or rescuing that which might other­wise perish; Oh thou who art our common Sauiour, make thou mee both am­bitious, and able to helpe to saue some other besides my selfe.

LXXVIII.
Vpon the tolling of a pas­sing-Bell.

HOw dolefull and hea­uy is this summons of Death; This sound is not for our eares, but for our hearts; it calls vs not onely to our prayers, but to our pre­paration; To our Pray­ers for the departing Soule; to our prepara­tion for our owne depar­ting; Wee haue neuer so much need of Prayers, as in our last Combat; then is our great Aduersary most eager; then are wee the weakest, then nature [Page 194] is so ouer-laboured, that it giues vs not leisure to make vse of gracious mo­tions; There is no pre­paration so necessary as for this Conflict; all our life is little enough to make ready for our last houre; What am I better then my Neighbours? How oft hath this Bell re­ported to me the farewell of many more strong and vigorous bodies then my owne; of many more cheerfull and liuely spi­rits? And now what doth it, but call mee to the thought of my parting? Heere is no abiding for me; I must away too; Oh thou that art the GOD [Page 195] of comfort, helpe thy poore Seruant that is now strugling with his last enemie; His sad friends stand gazing vp­on him, and weeping o­uer him, but they can­not succour him; needs must they leaue him to do this great worke alone; none but thou, to whom belong the issues of death, canst relieue his distressed and ouer-matched Soule; And for mee, let no man dye without mee; as I dye dayly, so teach mee to dye once; acquaint mee before hand with that Messenger, which I must trust too; Oh teach mee so to number [Page 196] my dayes, that I may ap­ply my heart to true wise­dome.

LXXIX.
Vpon a Defamation disper­sed.

WEre I the first▪ or the best that euer was slandered, per­haps it would bee some­what difficult to com­mand my selfe patience, Griefe is wont to bee aba­ted eyther by partners, or precedents; the want, whereof deiects vs be­yond measure, as men singled out for patternes [Page 197] of misery: Now, whiles I finde this the common condition of all that e­uer haue beene reputed vertuous, why am I troubled with the whis­perings of false tongues? O GOD, Si Chri­stus Iudam passus est, cur non e­go patiar Birrhichio­nem? Dial. de S. Mar­tine Seuer. Sulpit. the Diuell slandered thee in Para­dise; O Sauiour, men slandered thee on earth more then Men or Diuels can reproach mee; Thou art the best, as thou art the best, that euer was smitten by a lying and venemous tongue: It is too much fauour that is done mee by malicious lippes, that they con­forme mee to thy suffe­rings; I could not bee so [Page 198] happie if they were not so spightfull; Oh thou glorious patterne of re­proached innocence, if I may not dye for thee, yet let mee thus bleed with thee.

LXXX.
Vpon a ring of Bels.

WHiles euery Bell keepes due time, and order, what a sweet & harmonious sound they make? All the nieghbour Villages are cheared with that common Musicke; but when once they iarre, and checke each other; [Page 199] eyther iangling together, or striking preposterous­ly, how harsh and vnplea­sing is that noyse; So that as wee testifie our publike reioycing by an orderly and well-tuned peale; So when wee would signifie that the Towne is on fire wee ring confu­sedly.

It is thus in Church and Common-wealth; when euery one knowes and keepes their due rancks, there is a melodi­ous consort of Peace and contentment; but when distances, and proporti­ons of respects are not mutually obserued; when eyther States or persons [Page 200] will bee clashing with each other, the discord is grieuous, and ex­treamely preiudiciall; such confusion eyther no­tifieth a fire already kind­led, or portendeth it; Popular States may ring the changes with safety; but the Monarchicall go­uernment requires a con­stant and regular course of the set degrees of rule and inferiority, which cannot bee violated with­out a sensible discontent­ment, and danger; For mee, I doe so loue the peace of the Church and State, that I cannot but, with the charitable A­postle, say, Would to God [Page 201] they were cut off that trouble them; and shall e­uer wish eyther no iarres, or no clappers.

LXXXI.
Vpon the sight of a full Ta­ble at a Feast.

WHat great Variety is here, of flesh, of fish, of both, of neither; as if both Nature and Art did striue to pamper vs; Yet mee thinkes, enough is better then all this, Ex­cesse is but a burden, as to the prouider, so to the Guest; It pitties and greeues mee to thinke [Page 202] what toyle, what charge hath gone to the gathe­ring of all these daintyes together, what paine so many poore Creatures haue beene put to, in dy­ing for a needlesse Sa­crifice to the Belly; what a Penance must bee done by euery accumbent; in sitting out the passage through all these dishes; what a taske the stomacke must bee put to in the concoxion of so many mixtures; I am not so austerely scrupulous as to deny the lawfulnesse of these abundant prouisi­ons, vpon iust occasions; I find my Sauior himselfe more then once at a Feast; [Page 203] this is recorded as well as his one long Fast: Doubtlesse our bountifull GOD hath giuen vs his Creature, not for neces­sity onely, but for plea­sure: But these excee­dings would bee both rare, and moderate; and when they must bee, require no lesse patience then temperance;

Might I haue my opti­on, Oh GOD, giue mee rather a little with peace and loue; Hee whose pro­uision for euery day, was thirty measures of fine flower, and threescore measures of Meale, thirty Oxen, an hundred Sheep, besides Venison, and [Page 204] Fowle, yet can pray, Giue mee the Bread of suf­ficiency; Let mee haue no perpetuall Feast but a good Conscience; & from these great preparations (for the health both of Soule and body) let mee rise rather hungry, then surcharged.

LXXXII.
Vpon the hearing of a Lute well play'd on.

THere may bee (for ought wee know) in­finite inuentions of Art, the possibility whereof wee should hardly euer [Page 205] beleeue, if they were fore-reported to vs; Had wee liued in some rude, and remote part of the World, and should haue beene told, that it is pos­sible onely by an hollow peece of Wood, and the guts of Beasts, stirred by the fingers of men, to make so sweet and melo­dious a noyse, wee should haue thought it vtterly incredible; yet now that wee see and heare it or­dinarily done, wee make it no wonder; It is no maruell, if wee cannot fore-imagine, what kinde, and meanes of harmony GOD will haue vsed by his Saints, and Angels in [Page 206] Heauen; when these poore matters seeme so strange to our conceits, which yet our very sen­ses are conuinced of; Oh GOD, thou knowest infi­nite wayes to glorifie thy selfe by thy Creatures, which doe farre transcend our weake, and finite ca­pacities; Let mee wonder at thy wisdome and pow­er, and bee more awfull in my adoratious, then curious in my inqui­ries.

LXXXIII.
Vpon the sight and noyse of a Peacocke.

I See there are many kindes of Hypocrites; Of all Birds this makes the fayrest show, and the worst noyse; So as this is an Hypocrite to the eye; There are others, as the Black-bird, that lookes foule and sooty, but sings well; this is an Hypocrite to the Eare; There are others that please vs well, both in their shew, and voice, but are crosse in theyr carriage and condition, as the Popingay, whose [Page 208] colours are beautifull, and noyse delightfull; yet is apt to doe mis­cheife in scratching and byting any hand that comes neare it; These are Hypocrites both to the eye▪ and eare; Yet there is a degree further (beyond the example of all brute Creatures) of them, whose show, whose words, whose actions are faire, but their hearts are foule, and abhomi­nable;

No outward beautie can make the Hypocrite other then odious:

For mee, let my pro­fession agree with my words, my words with [Page 209] my actions, my acti­ons with my heart; and let all of them be ap­prooued of the GOD of truth.

LXXXIIII.
Vpon a penitent Male­factor.

I Know not whether I should more admire the Wisdome or the Mercy of God in his procee­dings with men; Had not this man sinned thus no­toriously, hee had neuer beene thus happy; whiles his courses were faire, and ciuill, yet hee was [Page 210] gracelesse; now his mis­carriage hath drawne him into a iust affliction; his affliction hath humbled him; God hath taken this aduantage of his humilia­tion, for his Conuersion: Had not one foot slip't into the mouth of Hell, hee had neuer beene in this forwardnesse to Heauen;

There is no man so weake, or foolish, as that hee hath not strength or wit enough to sinne; or to make ill vse of his sinne. It is onely the goodnesse of an infinite GOD, that can make our sinne good to vs, though euill in it selfe; Oh GOD, it is [Page 211] no thanke to our selues, or to our sinnes, that wee are bettered with euill; the Worke is thine, let thine bee the Glory.

LXXXV.
Vpon the sight of a Lilly.

THis must needs bee a goodly Flower that our Sauiour hath singled out to compare with SA­LOMON, and that not in his ordinary dresse, but in all his royalty▪ Surely the earth had ne­uer so glorious a King as hee, Nature yeilded no­thing [Page 212] that might set forth royall magnificence, that hee wanted; yet hee that made both SALOMON and this Flower, sayes that SALOMON in all his royaltie was not clad like it; What a poore thing is this earthly bra­uery that is so easily ouer­matched? How ill Iudges are wee of outward beau­ties that contemne these goodly Plants, which their Creator thus magni­fies; and admire those base mettals, which he (in com­parison hereof) cōtemnes: If it be their transitoriness that embaseth them; what are we? All flesh is Grasse, and all the glory of man as [Page 213] the flower of Grasse: As we cannot be so braue, so wee cannot bee more perma­nent; Oh GOD, let it bee my ambition to walke with thee hereafter in white; Could I put on a robe of starres here, with proud HEROD, that glittering garment could not keepe mee from Lice, or Wormes; Might I sit on a Throne of Gold; within an house of Iuory, I see I should not com­pare with this Flower; I might bee as transitory, I should not bee so beauti­full; What matters it whether I go for a flower, or a weed, heere; whe­thersoeuer, I must wither: [Page 214] Oh thou which art grea­ter then SALOMON doe thou cloath mee with thy perfect Righteousnesse, so shall I flourish for e­uer in the Courts of the House of my God.

LXXXVI.
Vpon the sight of a Coffin stucke with Flowers.

TOo faire appearance is neuer free from iust suspicion; whiles heere was nothing but meere Wood, no Flower was to be seene here, now that this Wood is lined with an vnsauory Corps, it is [Page 215] adorned with this sweet variety; the firre where­of that Coffin is made, yeilds a naturall redo­lence alone; now that it is stuffed thus noysome­ly, all helpes are too lit­tle to counteruaile that sent of corruption; Ney­ther is it otherwise in the liuing;

Perpetuall vse of strong perfumes argues a guilti­nes of some vnpleasing sa­uour. The case is the same Spiritually; an ouer-glo­rious outside of Professi­on implyes some inward filthinesse that would faine escape notice; Our vncomely parts haue more comelinesse put on; [Page 216] Too much ornament im­ports extreame deformi­ty; For mee, let my show bee moderate, so shall I neyther deceiue applause, nor merit too deepe cen­sure.

LXXXVII.
Vpon the view of the World.

IT is a good thing to see this materiall World; but it is a better thing to thinke of the intelligible World; this thought is the sight of the Soule, whereby it discerneth things, like it selfe, Spiri­tuall, [Page 217] and Immortall; which are so much be­yond the worth of these sensible Obiects, as a Spi­rit is beyond a body, a pure substance beyond a corruptible, an infinite God aboue a finite Crea­ture; O GOD, how great a word is that which the Psalmist sayes of thee, that thou abasest thy selfe to behold the things both in Heauen, and Earth?

It is our glory to looke vp euen to the meanest peece of Heauen; It is an abasement to thine incomprehensible Maie­sty to looke downe vpon the best of Heauen; Oh, what a transcendent Glo­ry [Page 218] must that needs bee, that is abased to behold the things of Heauen? What an happinesse shall it bee to mee, that mine eyes shall bee exalted to see thee; who art hum­bled to see the place, and state of my blessed­nesse: Yea, those very Angels that see thy face, are so resplendantly glo­rious, that wee could not ouer-liue the sight of one of their faces, who are faine to hide their faces from the sight of thine; How many millions of them attend thy Throne aboue, and thy Foot­stoole below, in the Mi­nistration to thy Saints? [Page 219] It is that thine inuisible world, the Communion wherewith can make mee truly blessed; Oh GOD, if my body haue fellow­ship here amongst Beasts, of whose earthly sub­stance it participates; Let my Soule bee vnited to thee, the God of Spirits; and bee raised vp to inioy the insensible society of thy blessed Angels; Ac­quaint mee before-hand with those Citizens and affaires of thine Heauen; and make me no stran­ger to my future Glory.

LXXXVIII.
Vpon the stinging of a Waspe.

HOw small things may annoy the greatest? euen a Mouse troubles an Elephant, a Gnat a Lion; a very Flea may disquiet a Gyant; What weapon can bee nearer to nothing then the sting of this Waspe? Yet what a pain­full wound hath it giuen mee; that scarce-visible point how it enuenomes, and rankles, and swels vp the flesh? The ten­dernesse of the part addes much to the griefe;

And if I bee thus vexed [Page 221] with the touch of an an­gry Flye, LORD, how shall I bee able to indure the sting of a tormenting Conscience? As that part is both most actiue, and most sensible, so that wound which it re­ceiues from it selfe, is most intollerably gree­uous; there were more ease in a nest of Harnets, then vnder this one tor­ture: O GOD, howso­uer I speed abroad, giue mee Peace at home; and what euer my flesh suffer, keepe my Soule free.

Thus pained, wherein doe I find ease but in lay­ing Hony to the part in­fected? [Page 222] That Medicine onely abates the auguish; How neare hath Nature placed the remedy to the offence? Whensoeuer my heart is stung with the remorse for sinne, onely thy sweet and precious merits, O blessed Saui­our, can mitigate, and heale the wound; they haue vertue to cure mee, giue mee grace to apply them; that soueraigne re­ceit shall make my paine happy; I shall thus ap­plaud my griefe, It is good for me that I was thus afflicted. *⁎*

LXXXIX.
Vpon the Araignment of a Felon.

VVIth what terrour doth this Male­factor stand at that Barre? His hand trembles, whiles it is lift vp for his tryall; his very lips quake, whiles hee saith, not guilty; his counte­nance condemnes him be­fore the Iudge; and his feare is ready to execute him before his Hang-man: Yet this Iudge is but a weake man, that must, soone after, dye himselfe; that sentence of Death, [Page 224] which he can pronounce, is already passed by Nature vpon the most in­nocent; that act of death, which the Law inflicteth by him, is but momenta­ny; who knowes whether himselfe shall not dye more painfully? O God, with what horror shall the guilty Soule stand be­fore thy dreadfull Tribu­nall in the day of the great Assizes of the World? Whiles there is the pre­sence of an infinite Ma­iesty to daunt him; a fierce and clamorous Conscience to giue in euidence against him; Legions of vgly, and terrible Diuels way­ting [Page 225] to seize vpon him; a Gulfe of vnquenchable Fire ready to receiue him; whiles the Glory of the Iudge is no lesse confoun­ding, then the crueltie of the Tormenters; Where the Sentence is vnauoy­dable, and the Execution Euerlasting, Why doe not these terrors of thee, my GOD, make me wise to hold a priuy Sessions vpon my Soule, and acti­ons; that being acquited by my owne heart, I may not bee condemned by thee; and being iudged by my selfe I may not bee condemned with the World?

XC.
Vpon the Crowing of a Cocke.

HOw harshly did this note sound in the eare of PETER; Yea pearced his very hart? Many a time had hee heard this bird, and was no whit moued with the noyse; now, there was a Bird in his bosome that crow'd low­der then this; Whose shrill accent conioyned with this, astonished the guilty Disciple:

The weary labourer when hee is awakened from his sweet sleepe by this naturall Clocke of [Page 227] the Houshold, is not so angry at this troublesome Bird, nor so vexed at the hearing of that vnseaso­nable sound, as PETER was, when this Fowle a­wakened his sleeping Conscience, and call'd him to a timely repen­tance; This Cocke did but crow like others; nei­ther made, or knew any difference of this tone, and the rest; there was a diuine hand that ordered this Mornings note to be a Summons of Penitence; Hee that fore-told it, had fore-appointed it: that Bird could not but crow then; and all the noyse in the High-Priests [Page 228] Hall could not keepe that sound from PETERS eare, But, O SAVIOVR, couldst thou finde leasure, when thou stoodst at the Barre of that vniust, and cruell Iudgement, amidst all that bloudy rabble of E­nemies, in the sense of all their furie, and the ex­pectation of thine owne Death, to listen vnto this Monitor of PETERS Repentance; and vpon the hearing of it, to cast backe thine eyes vpon thy Denying, Cursing, Ab­iuring Disciple? O Mer­cie without measure; and beyond all the possibili­ty of our Admiration; [Page 229] to neglect thy selfe for a sinner, to attend the re­pentance of one, when thou wert about to lay downe thy life for all.

Oh GOD, thou art still equally mercifull. E­uery Elect Soule is no lesse deare vnto thee: Let the sound of thy faithfull monitors smite my eares: and let the beames of thy mercifull eyes wound my heart, so as I may goe forth and weepe bitterly. *⁎*

XCI.
Vpon the Variety of thoughts by way of Conclu­sion.

VVHen I bethinke my selfe how E­ternity depends vpon this moment of life, I wonder how I can thinke of any thing but Heauen: but, when I see the di­stractions of my thoughts, and the aberrations of my life, I wonder how I can bee so bewitched, (as whiles I beleeue an Hea­uen) so to forget it. All that I can doe, is to bee angry at my owne vanity. [Page 231] My thoughts would not bee so many, if they were all right; there are tenne thousand by-wayes for one direct? As there is but one Heauen, so there is but one way to it; that liuing way, wherein I walke by Faith, by Obe­dience. All things, the more perfect they are, the more doe they reduce themselues towards that vnitie, which is the Center of all perfection: Oh thou who art one, and infinite, draw in my heart from all these strag­ling, and vnprofitable Cogitations; and confine it to thine Heauen, and to thy selfe, who art the [Page 232] Heauen of that Heauen. Let mee haue no life but in thee, no care but to inioy thee, no ambition but thy Glorie; Oh make mee thus imperfectly hap­py before my time; that when my time shall bee no more, I may bee per­fectly happie with thee to all Eterni­tie.

XCII.
Vpon the sight of an har­lot carted.

VVIth what noyse and tumult, and zeale of solemne justice is this sin punished; the streets are not more full of beholders, then cla­mours; Every one strives to expresse his detestati­on of the fact, by some token of revenge; one casts myre, another wa­ter, another rotten egges upon the miserable of­fender; neither indeed [Page 234] is shee worthy of lesse: but, in the meane time, no man lookes home to himselfe; it is no unchari­ty to say, that too many insult in this just pu­nishment, who have de­served more; Alas, wee men value sinnes by the outward scandall, but the wise and holy God (against whom onely our sinnes are done) esteemes them according to the intrinsecall iniquity of them: and according to the secret violation of his will and justice; thus, those sinnes which are sleight to us, are to him haynous. Wee ignorants would have rung Davids [Page 235] adultery with Basins, but, as for his numbring of the people, we should have past it over as veni­all; The wise justice of the Almighty found more wickedness in this, which wee should scarce have accused; Doubtlesse there is more mischiefe in a secret infidelity, which the world either cannot know, or cares not to censure, then in the foulest adultery; Publique sins have more shame, private may have more guilt; If the world cannot charge me of those; it is enough that I can charge my Soule of worse: let others rejoyce [Page 236] in these publique execu­tions; Let me pitty the sinnes of others, and be humbled under the sense of my owne.

XCIII.
Vpon the smell of a Rose.

SMelling is one of the meanest, and least use­ful of the senses; yet there is none of the five, that re­ceives or gives so exqui­site a contentment as it; Mee thinkes there is no earthly thing that yeelds so perfect a pleasure to any sense, as the odour of the first rose doth, to the sent: It is the wisedome and bounty of the crea­tor [Page 237] so to order it, that those senses which have more affinity with the body, & with that earth whereof it is made, should receive their de­light and contentation by these things which are bred of the earth; but those which are more spiritfull, and have more affinity with the Soule, should bee reserved for the perfection of their pleasure, to another world; There, and then onely, shall my sight make my soule eternally bles­sed.

XCIIII.
Vpon a cancelled Bond.

WHiles this obli­gation was in force, I was in servitude to my parchment; my bond was double, to a payment, to a penalty; now, that is discharged, what is it better then a waste scrole; regarded for nothing but the wit­nesse of its owne voy­dance, and nullity. No otherwise is it with the severe Law of my Crea­tor; Out of Christ it stands in full force, and bindes me over either to [Page 239] perfect obedience, which I cannot possibly per­forme, or to exquisite torment, and eternall Death, which I am never able to indure; But now, that my Saviour hath fastened it cancelled to his crosse (in respect of the rigour & maledicti­on of it) I looke upon it as the monument of my past danger and bon­dage: I know by it, how much was owed by mee, how much is payed for mee; The direction of it, is everlasting, the obliga­tion (by it) unto death is frustrate: I am free from curse, who never can be free from obedience. O [Page 240] Saviour, take thou glo­ry and give mee peace.

XCV.
Vpō the report of a great losse by Sea.

THe earth and the wa­ter are both of them great givers, and both great takers: As they give matter and sustenta­tiō to all sublunary crea­tures, so they take al back againe, insatiably deuou­ring, at last, the fruits of their owne wombs. Yet, of the two, the earth is both more benefici­all, and lesse cruell; for, [Page 241] as that yeilds us the most generall maintenance & wealth and supportatiō; So it doth not lightly take ought from us, but that which we resigne o­ver to it, and which natu­rally falls backe unto it; Whereas the water, as it affords but a small part of our live-lode, & some few knacks of ornament So it is apt violently to snatch away both us and ours: and to bereave that which it never gave: it yeilds us no precious mettals, and yet in an in­stant fetches away mil­lions; And yet, notwith­standing all the hard measure we receive from [Page 242] it, how many doe wee dayly see that might have firme ground un­der them, who yet will be trusting to the mercy of the Sea; Yea how many that have hardly crawled out from a de­sperate ship wracke, will yet be trying the fidelity of that unsure, and un­trusty element: O God, how venturous we are, where we have reason to distrust, how incredu­lously fearefull, where we have cause to be con­fident? Who ever relyed upon thy gracious pro­vidence, and sure promi­ses, O Lord, and hath mis-carryed? Yet here [Page 243] we pull-in our faith, and make excuses for our diffidence; and if Peter have tryed those waves to be no other then solid pavement under his feet, whiles his Soule trod confidently; yet when a billow and a winde agree to threaten him, his faith flagges, and he begins to sinke: O Lord, teach me to doubt where I am sure to find nothing but un­certainty; and to be assu­redly confident, where there can be no pos­sibility of any cause of doubt­ing.

XCVI.
Vpon sight of a bright skie full of starres.

I Cannot blame Em­pedocles if he profes­sed a desire to live upon earth, onely that he might behold the face of the heavens; surely (if there were no other) this were a sufficient errand for a mans being here below, to see & obserue these goodly spangles of light above our heads, their places, their quan­tities, their motions: but the employment of a Christian is farre more [Page 245] noble, and excellent; heauen is open to him; and he can looke beyond the vayle, and see further above those starrs, then it is thither; and there discerne those glories, that may answer so rich a pavement; vpon the cleare sight whereof, I cannot wonder if the chosen vessell desired to leave the earth, in so hap­py an exchange. O God, I blesse thine infinite­nesse, for what I see with these bodily eyes; but, if thou shalt but draw the curtaine and let me by the eye of faith see the in-side of that thy glorious frame, I shall [Page 248] need no other happiness here; My Soule cannot be capable of more fa­uour then sight here, and fruition hereafter.

CVII.
Vpon the rumors of Warres.

GOod Lord, what a shambles is Christē ­dome becomne of late? How are men killed like flyes, and blood poured out like water? Surely the cruelty & ambitiō of the great have an heavie reckoning to make for so many thousand soules; [Page 245] I condemne not just armes; those are as ne­cessary, as the unjust are hatefull; even Michael and his Angels fight; and the style of God is the Lord of Hostes. But wo be to the man by whom the offence commeth; Usurpation of others rights, violation of oathes and contracts, & lastly erroneous zeale are guilty of all these publique murders. Pri­vate mens injuries are washt off with teares, but wrongs done to Princes and publique States are hardly wipt off but with blood. Doubtlesse that fearefull comet did not [Page 248] more certainly portend these warres, then these warres presage the ap­proach of the end of the world; The earth was never without some broyles, since it was peo­pled but with three men; but so vniversall a com­bustion was never in the Christian world since it was: O Saviour, what can I thinke of this, but that, as thou wouldst have a generall peace upon thy first comming into the world, so upon thy se­cond comming thou meanest there shall be a no lesse generall warre upon earth: that peace made way for thy meeke [Page 249] appearance; this warre for thy dreadfull and ter­rible.

XCVIII.
Vpon a Child crying.

IT was upon great rea­son, that the Apostle charges us not to be chil­dren in understanding. What fooles wee all once are? Even at first, we cry, and smile wee know not wherefore; we have not wit enough to make signes what hurts us, or where wee com­playne; we can wrye the mouth, but not seeke the [Page 250] brest, and if we want helpe, we can onely la­ment, and sprawle, and dye. After, when some months have taught us to distinguish a little be­twixt things, and per­sons, wee cry for eve­ry toye; even that, which may most hurt us; and, when there is no other cause, we cry onely to heare our own noyse, and are straight stilled with a greater; & if it be but upon the breeding of a tooth, we are so way­ward, that nothing will please us; and if some formerly-liked knack be given to quiet us, wee cast away that which we [Page 251] have, if wee have not what wee would seeme to like. We feare nei­ther fire, nor water, no­thing scarres us but ei­ther a rod or a fayned bug-beare; we mis-know our parents; not acknow­ledging any friend but the Taylor, that brings us a fine coate, or the Nurse that dresses us gay; The more that our riper yeares resemble these dispositions, the more childish wee are, and more worthy both of our owne and others censure.

But againe, it was up­on no lesse reason that the Apostle charges us, [Page 252] to be children in malici­ousnesse: Those little in­nocents beare no grudg; they are sooner pleased, then angry; And if any man have wronged them, let them but have given a stroke unto the Nurse, to beat the offen­der, it is enough; at the same instant they put forth their hand for re­concilement, and offer themselves unto those armes that trespassed. And when they are most froward, they are stilled with a pleasant song: The old word is, that an old man is twice a child; but I say, happy is he that is thus a child alwayes. It is [Page 253] a great imperfection to want knowledge, but of the two, it is better to be a child in understanding, then a man in malicious­nesse.

XCIX.
Vpon the beginning of a sicknesse.

IT was my owne fault, if I look't not for this; All things must undergoe their changes; I have in­joyed many fayre dayes; there was no reason I should not at last make account of clouds, and stormes; Could I have [Page 254] done well, without any mixtures of sin; I might have hoped for entire health; But, since I have interspersed my obedi­ence with many sinfull faylings, and enormities, why doe I thinke much, to interchange health with sickenesse? What I now feele I know; I am not worthy to know what I must feele; As my times, so my measures are in the hands of a wise and good God; My com­fort is, he that sends these evils, proportions them; If they be sharpe, I am sure they are just; the most that I am capable to indure, is the least part [Page 255] of what I have deserved to suffer: Nature would sayne be at ease; but, Lord what ever become of this carcasse, thou hast reason to have respect to thine owne glory; I have sinned and must smart; It is the glory of thy mercy to beat my body for the safety of my soule. The worst of sicknesse is payne, and the worst of payne is but death: As for payne, if it be extreme, it cannot be long; and if it be long' (such is the difference of earthly, and hellish tor­ments) it cannot be ex­treme; As for death, it is both unavoydable, and [Page 256] beneficiall; there ends my misery, and begins my glory; A few groanes are well bestowed for a preface to an immortall joy. Howsoever, O God, thy messenger is worthy to be welcome; It is the Lord, let him do what­soever he will.

C.
Vpon the challenge of a promise.

IT is true; an honest mans word must be his maister; when I have promised I am indebted, [Page 257] and debts may be clay­med; must be payed; but yet, there is a great deale of difference in our in­gagements; Some things wee promise because they are due; some things are onely due, be­cause they are promised. These latter, which are but the mere ingage­ments of curtesie, cannot so absolutely binde us, that notwithstāding any intervention of unwor­thinesse, or misbehavi­our in the person expe­ctant, Wee are tyed to make our word good; though to the cutting of our owne throates. All favourable promises pre­suppose [Page 258] a capacity in the receiver; where that pal­pably fayleth, common equity sets us free; I pro­mised to send a faire sword to my frend; he is, since that time turn'd frantick; must I send it, or be charged with un­faithfulnesse, if I send it not? O God, thy title is the God of truth, thou canst no more cease to be faithfull, then to be; How oft hast thou pro­mised, that no good thing shall be wanting to thine, and yet wee know thy dearest chil­dren have complayned of want? Is thy word therefore challengable? [Page 259] Farre, farre, be this wick­ed presumption from our thoughts. No: These thy promises of outward favours are never but with a subintelligence of a condition: of our capa­blenesse, of our expedi­ence. Thou seest that plenty, or [...]ase would be our bane; thy love for­beares to satisfie us with an harmfull blessing: We are worthy to be pla­gued with prejudiciall kindnesses, if we do not acknowledge thy wise­dome, and care in our want. It is enough for us that thy best mercies are our dues, because thy promises; we cannot too [Page 260] much clayme that which thou hast absolutely in­gaged thy selfe to give, and in giving shalt make us eternally happy.

CI.
Vpon the sight of flies.

WHen I looke upon these flyes; and gnats, and wormes, I have reason to thinke; What am I to my infi­nite Creator more then these? And if these had my reason, why might they not expostulate with their Maker, Why they are but such; why [Page 261] they live to so little pur­pose, and dye without either notice or use; and if I had no more reason then they, I should bee (as they) content with any condition; That rea­son which I have, is not of my owne giving; he that hath given mee rea­son, might as well have given it to them; or, have made me as reason-lesse as they; there is no cause why his greater gift should make me muti­nous, and malecontent; I will thanke my God for what I am, for what I have; and never quarrel with him, for what I want.

CII.
Vpon the sight of a fan­tasticall Zelote.

IT is not the intent of grace to mold our bo­dies anew, but to make use of them, as it findes us; the disposition of men much followes the temper of their bodily humors. This mixture of humors, wrought up­on by grace, causeth that strange variety, which we see in professions pre­tendedly religious; when grace lights upon a sad melancholike Spirit, no­thing is affected but sul­lennesse, [Page 263] and extreme mortification; and dis­like even of lawfull free­dome; nothing but posi­tions, and practises of severe austerity; when contrarily, upon the cheerefull and lively; all drawes towards liberty and joy, those thoughts doe now please best, which enlarge the heart to mirth, and contentati­on; It is the greatest improvement of Chri­stian wisdome to distin­guish (in all professions) betwixt grace and hu­mor; to give God his own glory, and men their owne infirmityes.

CIII.
Vpon the sight of a Sca­venger working in the channel.

THe wise providence of God hath fitted men with spirits answe­rable to their condition; If meane men should beare the minds of great Lords, no servile workes would be done; al would be commaunders, and none could live; If con­trarily, great persons had the low spirits of drud­ges, there could be no or­der, no obedience; be­cause [Page 265] there should be none to command; now, out of this discord of dis­positions, God hath con­trived an excellent har­mony of government, and peace: since the use which each sort must needs have of other, bindes them to maintain the quality of their own rankes; and to do those offices which are requi­site for the preservation of themselves, and the publique. As inferiours then must blesse God for the graces and authori­ty of their betters; So must Superiours no lesse blesse him for the humi­litie and serviceablenesse [Page 266] of the meaner; and those which are of the mid­rank, must blesse him for both.

CIIII.
Vpon a payre of Spe­ctacles.

I Looke upon these, not as objects, but as helps; as not meaning that my sight should rest in them; but passe through them; and by their aid, discerne some other things which I desire to see; many such glasses my soule hath and useth: I looke through the glasse of the [Page 267] creatures, at the power and wisedome of their maker: I looke through the glasse of the Scrip­tures at the great myste­ry of redemption and the glory of an heavenly in­heritance; I looke through Gods favours, at his infinite mercy; through his judgements, at his incomprehensible justice; but as these spe­ctacles of mine presup­pose a faculty in the eye, and cannot give me sight when I want it, but only cleares that sight which I have; no more can these glasses of the creatures, of Scriptures, of favours and judgements inable [Page 268] mee to apprehend those blessed objects, except I have an eye of faith whereto they may bee presented; these helps to an unbeleeving man, are but as spectacles to the blinde. As the natu­rall eyes, so the spirituall have their degrees of dimnesse; but I have ill improved my age, if, as my naturall eyes decay, my spirituall eye bee not cleared and confirmed; but at my best I shall ne­ver but need spectacles, till I come to see as I am seene.

CV.
Vpon moates in the Sun.

How these little moats move up and downe in the Sunne, and never rest, whereas the great mountaines stand ever still, and move not, but with an earthquake; e­ven so light and busie spi­rits are in continuall agi­tation, to little purpose; whiles great deepe wits sit still, and stirre not, but upon extreme occasions: were the motion of these little atomes as usefull, as it is restlesse, I had ra­ther bee a moat then▪ a mountaine.

CVI.
Vpon the sight of a bladder.

EVery thing must bee taken in his meete time; let this bladder a­lone till it be dry, and all the winde in the world cannot raise it up, where­as, now it is new, and moist, the least breath fills, and enlarges it; it is no otherwise in ages, and dispositions; informe the child in precepts of learning & vertue, whiles years make him capable, how plyably hee yeeld­eth, how happily is hee [Page 271] replenished with know­ledge and goodnesse; let him alone, till time and ill example have harden­ed him; till hee be setled in an habit of evill, and contracted, and clung together with sensuall delights, now hee be­comes utterly indocible; sooner may that bladder bee broken then disten­ded.

CVII.
Vpon a man sleeping.

I Do not more wonder at any mans art, then at his, who professes to [Page 272] thinke of nothing, to do nothing: and I do not a little marvell at that man who sayes hee can sleepe without a dreame; for the minde of man is a restlesse thing: & though it give the body leave to repose it self, as knowing it is a mortall & earthly peece, yet it selfe being a spirit, and therefore a­ctive, and indefatigable, is ever in motion: give me a sea that moves not, a Sunne that shines not, an open eye that sees not; and I shall yeeld there may bee a reasonable soule that workes not: It is possible that through a naturall, or acciden­tall [Page 273] stupidity, a man may not perceive his owne thoughts; (as sometimes the eye or eare may bee distracted, not to dis­cerne his owne objects) but in the meane time, he thinkes that, whereof he cannot give an account; like as wee many times dreame when we cannot report our fancy. I should more easily put my selfe to schoole un­to that man, who under­takes the profession of thinking many things at once: Instantany moti­ons are more proper for a spirit, then a dull rest. Since my mind wil needs be ever working, it shall [Page 274] bee my care that it may alwaies be wel imploy'd.

CVIII.
Vpon the sight of a deaths-head.

I Wonder at the pra­ctise of the ancient both Greeks, and Ro­mans, whose use was to bring up a deaths-head in the midst of their feasts, on purpose to stir up their guests, to drinke harder, and to frolicke more; the sight whereof, one would think should have rather abated their courage, and have tem­pered [Page 275] their jollity; but however it was with them, who beleeved there was nothing after death; that the conside­ration of the short time of their pleasures, and beeing, spurred them on to a free and full fruition of that mirth and ex­cesse, which they should not long live to enjoy; yet to us that are Chri­stians, and therefore know that this short life doth but make way for an eternity of joy, or torment afterwards, and that after the feast, wee must account of a rec­koning; there cannot be a greater cooler for the [Page 276] heat of our intemperate desires, and rage of our appetites, then the medi­tation of the shortnesse of life, and the certainty of death: Who would over-pamper a body for the wormes? who would be so mad as to let him­selfe loose to that mo­mentany pleasure of sin, which, ere long, must cost him everlasting pain, and miserie. For mee, mee thinkes this head speakes no other lan­guage then this; Leese no time, thou art dying, do thy best, thou maist do good but a while, and shalt fare well for ever.

CIX.
Vpon the sight of a left-handed man.

IT is both an old and easie observation, that however the senses are alike strong, and active on the right side, and on the left; yet that the limbes on the right side are stronger then those of the left; because they are more exercised then the other; upon which selfe same reason it must follow, that a left-han­ded man hath more strength in his left arme, then in his right; neither [Page 278] is it otherwise in the soule: our intellectuall parts grow vigorous with imployment, and languish with dis-use: I have knowne excellent preachers, and pregnant disputants that have lost these faculties with lacke of action; and others, but meanly qualified with naturall gifts, that have attained to a lau­dable measure of abili­ties, by improvement of their little. I had rather lacke good parts, then that good parts should lacke mee; Not to have great gifts is no fault of mine, it is my fault not to use them.

CX.
Vpon the sight of an old unthached Cottage.

THere cannot bee a truer embleme of crazie old age; Moldred and clay walls; a thinne, uncovered roofe; ben­ding studds; darke and broken windowes; in short, an house ready to fall on the head of the in­dweller: The best body is but a cottage; if new­er, and better timbred, yet such as age will e­qually impaire, and make [Page 280] thus ragged, & ruinous; or, before that, perhaps casualty of fire or tēpest; or violence of an enemy; One of the chief cares of men is to dwel wel; some build for themselues, faire, but not strong; o­thers build for posterity, strong but not faire, not high; but happie is that man that builds for eter­nity, as strong, as faire, as high as the glorious contignations of heaven.

CXI.
Vpon the sight of a faire pearle.

VVHat a pure and precious creature is this, which yet is ta­ken out of the mudde of the sea; Who can com­plaine of a base original, when hee sees such excel­lencies so descended? These shel-fishes that have no sexes, and there­fore are made out of corruption, what glori­ous things they yeeld, to adorne and make proud the greatest princesses? Gods great workes goe [Page 282] not by likely-hoods; how easily can he fetch glory out of obscurity, who brought all out of nothing?

CXII.
Vpon a screene.

MEE thinkes this screene, that stands betwixt me and the fire, is like some good friend at the Court, which keepes from mee the heate of the unjust dis­pleasure of the great; wherewith I might per­haps otherwise be cause­lesly [Page 283] scorched; but how happy am I, if the inter­position of my Saviour, my best friend in heaven, may screene mee from the deserved wrath of that great God, who is a consuming fire?

CXIII.
Vpon a Burre-leafe.

NEither the vine, nor the oake, nor the Cedar, nor any tree, that I know, within our cli­mate, yeelds so great a leafe as this weed, which yet, after all expectation, [Page 284] brings forth nothing but a burre, unprofitable, troublesome; So haue I seene none make greater profession of religion, then an ignorant man; whose indiscreet for­wardnesse yeelds no fruit but a factious di­sturbance to the Church, wherein hee liues; Too much shew is not so much better then none at all, as an ill fruit is worse then none at all.

CXIV.
Vpon the singing of a Bird.

IT is probable that none of those crea­tures that want reason, delight so much in plea­sant sounds, as a bird; Whence it is, that both it spends so much time in singing; and is more apt to imitate those modu­lations which it heares from men; Frequent practise (if it be volun­tary) argues a delight in that which wee doe; and delight makes us more apt to practise; and more [Page 286] capable of perfection in that wee practise; Oh God, if I take pleasure in thy law, I shall medi­tate of it with comfort, speake of it with bold­nesse, and practise it with cheerefulnesse.

CXV.
Vpon the sight of a man Yawning.

IT is a marvellous thing to see the reall effects and strong operation of consent, or Sympathye, even where there is no bodily touch; So one sad man puts the whole cō ­pany [Page 287] into dumps; So one mans yawning affects, and stretches the jawes of many beholders; So, the looking upon bleare eyes taints the eye with blearenesse; From hence it is easie to see the ground of our Saviours expostulation with his persecutor; Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou mee? The Church is persecuted below, hee feeles it above, and com­plaines; So much as the person is more appre­hensive, must hee needs bee more affected. O Sa­viour, thou canst not but bee deeply sensible of all our miseries and [Page 288] necessities. If wee doe not feele thy wrongs, and the wants of our bre­thren, wee have no part in thee.

CXVI.
Vpon the sight of a tree lopped.

IN the lopping of these trees, experience, and good husbandry hath taught men to leave one bough still growing in the top; the better to draw up the sappe from the root; The like wise­dome is fit to bee obser­ved in censures; which [Page 289] are intended altogether for reformation, not for destruction; So must they be inflicted, that the patient be not utter­ly discouraged, and stript of hope, and comfort; but that, whiles he suf­fereth, he may feele his good tendered, and his amendment both aymed at, and expected. O God if thou shouldest deale with me as I deserue, thou shouldst not only shred my boughs, but cut downe my stocke, and stocke up my roote; and yet thou dost but prune my superfluous branches, and cherishest the rest; how unworthy [Page 290] am I of this mercy, if whiles thou art thus in­dulgent unto mee, I bee severe and cruell to o­thers, perhaps lesse-ill-deserving then my selfe?

CXVII.
Vpon a Scholler that offered violence to himselfe.

HAd this man lyen lōg under some eminent discontentment, it had been easie to find out the motive of his mis-carri­age; Weake nature is ea­sily over-laid with impa­tience; [Page 291] it must bee one­ly the power of grace, that can graple with ve­hement evils, and mai­ster them: But here the world cannot say what could be guilty of occa­sioning this violence; this mans hand was full; his fame untainted; his body no burden; his di­sposition (for ought wee saw) faire; his life guilt­lesse; yet something did the tempter finde to ag­gravate unto his feeble thoughts, and to repre­sent worthy of a di­spatch; What a poore thing is life, whereof so sleight occasions can make us weary? What [Page 292] impotent wretches are wee when wee are not sustained? One would thinke this the most im­possible of all motions; naturally, every man loves himselfe; and life is sweet, death abhor­red; What is it that Sa­than can despaire to pre­swade men unto, if hee can draw them to an un­naturall abandoning of life, and pursuit of death: Why should I doubt of prevailing with my own heart, by the powerfull over-ruling of Gods spi­rit, to contemne life, and to affect death, for the sake of my Saviour (in exchange of a few mise­rable [Page 293] moments, for eter­nity of joy) when I see men, upon an unreaso­nable suggestion of that evill spirit, cast away their lives for nothing, and so hastening their temporall death, that they hazard an eternall?

CXVIII.
Vpon the comming in of the Iudge.

THe construction of men and their acti­ons is altogether accor­ding to the disposition of the lookers on. The [Page 294] same face of the Judge without any inward al­teration, is seene with terror by the guilty, with joy and confidence, by the oppressed innocent; like as the same lips of the bride-groome drop both myrrhe and hony at once; hony to the well disposed heart; myrrhe to the rebelli­ous: And the same cup relishes well to the healthfull, and distasts the feverous; the same word is, though a sweet, yet a contrary savour to the different receivers: and the same Sunne com­forts the strong sight, dazles the weake; For a [Page 295] man to affect either to do, or speake that which may bee pleasing to all men, is but a weake and idle ambition, when wee see him that is infinitely good, appeare terrible to more, then he appears lovely. Goodnesse is it selfe with what ever eyes it is lookt upon: There can be no safety for that man that regards more the censure of men, then the truth of beeing; Hee that seekes to win all hearts, hath lost his own.

CXIX.
Vpon the sight af a heap of stones.

VNder such a pile it was, that the first martyr was buried; none of all the ancient Kings had so glorious a tombe; here were many stones, and every one pretious; Iacob leaned his head u­pon a stone, and saw that heavenly vision of Angels ascending, and descending: Many stones light upon Stevens head, in the instant of his see­ing the heavens opened; [Page 297] and Jesus standing at the right hand of God: Lo, Iacob, resting upon that one stone, saw but the Angells; Steven being to rest for once under those many stones, saw the Lord of the Angels, Ia­cob saw the Angels mo­ving; Steven saw Jesus standing; As Iacob there­fore afterwards, accor­ding to his vow, made there an altar to God; so Steven now in the pre­sent, gathers these stones together, of which hee erected an holy altar, whereon hee offered up himself a blessed sacrifice unto God; and if there bee a time of gathering [Page 298] stones, and a time of ca­sting them away; this was the time wherein the Jewes cast, and Ste­ven gathered up these stones for a monument of eternall glory: O bles­sed Saint, thou didst not so clearly see heaven o­pened, as heaven saw thee covered; thou didst not so perfectly see thy Jesus standing, as hee saw thee lying, patiently, courageously under that fatall heap: Do I mistake it, or are those stones, not flints and pebles, but diamonds and rubies, & carbuncles to set upon thy crowne of glory?

CXX.
Vpon sight of a Bat and Owle.

THese night-birds are glad to hide their heads all day, and if by some violence they bee unseasonably forced out of their secrecy, how are they followed, and beaten by the birds of the day? With us men it is contrary, the sonnes of darknesse do with all eagernesse of malice pur­sue the children of the light: and drive them in­to corners, and make a prey of them: the oppo­sition [Page 300] is alike, but the advantage lyes on the worse side; Is it for that the spirituall light is no lesse hatefull to those children of darknesse, then the naturall night is to those cheerfull birds of the day? Or is it for that the sonnes of darke­nesse, challenging no lesse propriety in the world, then the foules do in the lightsome aire, abhorre and wonder at the conscionable, as strange and uncouth: howsoever, as these Bats and Owles were made for the night, being ac­cordingly shaped, foule, and ill-favoured; so we [Page 301] know these vicious men, (how ever they may please themselves) have in them a true deformity; fit to bee shrouded in darknesse; and as they delight in the workes of darknesse, so they are justly reserved to a state of darknesse.

CXXI.
Vpon the sight of a well-fleeced sheepe.

VVHat a warm win­ter coat hath God provided for this quiet innocent creature? as in­deed, [Page 302] how wonderfull is his wisedome and good­nes in all his purveiances; those creatures which are apter for motion, and withall most fearfull by nature, hath hee clad somewhat thinner, and hath allotted them safe and warme boroughs within the earth; those that are fit for labour and use, hath hee furnish­ed with a strong hide: & for man whom he hath thought good to bring forth naked, tender, helplesse; he hath indu­ed his parents, and him­selfe with that noble fa­culty of reason, where­by hee may provide all [Page 303] manner of helps for him­selfe; Yet againe so bountifull is God in his provisions, that hee is not lavish; so distribu­ting his gifts, that there is no more superfluity, then want; Those crea­tures that have beakes, have no teeth; and those that have shells without, have no bones within; All have enough, no­thing hath all: Neither is it otherwise in that one kinde of man, whom hee meant for the Lord of all; Variety of gifts is here mixed with a fru­gall dispensation; None hath cause to boast, none to complain; Every man [Page 304] is as free from an abso­lute defect, as from per­fection; I desire not to comprehend, O Lord, teach mee to doe no­thing but wonder.

CXXII.
Vpon the hearing of Thunder.

THere is no grace whereof I finde so generall a want in my selfe, and others, as an awfull feare of the infi­nite majesty of God; Men are ready to affect, and professe a kinde of [Page 305] familiarity with God, out of a pretence of love, whereas if they knew him aright, they could not thinke of him with­out dread, nor name him without trembling; their narrow hearts strive to conceive of him, accor­ding to the scantling of their owne strait, and ignorant apprehension; whereas they should on­ly desire to have their thoughts swallowed up with an adoring wonder of his divine incompre­hensiblenesse; though he thunder not alwaies, he is alwaies equally dreadfull; there is none of his works which doth [Page 306] not bewray omnipoten­cy: I blush at the sawci­nesse of vaine men, that will bee circumscribing the powerfull acts of the Almighty within the compasse of naturall cau­ses; forbearing to won­der at what they professe to know; Nothing but ignorance can be guilty of this boldnesse; There is no divinity but in an humble feare, no philo­sophie but in a silent ad­miration.

CXXIII.
Vpon the sight of an hedg-hogge.

I Marvelled at the first reading, what the Greekes meant by that proverbe of theirs; The Foxe knowes many pret­ty wiles, but the hedg-hogge knowes one great one: but when I consi­dered the nature, and practise of this creature, I easily found the reason of that speech, groun­ded upon the care, and shift that it makes for its owne preservation; whiles it is under covert [Page 308] it knowes how to barre the fore-dore against the cold Northerne, and Ea­sterne blasts; and to o­pen the back-doore for quieter and calmer aire; When it is pursued, it knowes how to roll up it selfe round, within those thornes with which nature hath envi­rond it, so as the dogge, in stead of a beast, findes now nothing but a ball of prickes, to wound his jawes; and goes away crying from so untooth­some a prey: Hee that sent the sluggard to schoole to the pismire, sends also in effect the carelesse and imprudent [Page 309] man to the hedg-hogge; whiles hee saith, if thou bee wise thou shalt bee wise for thy selfe: The maine care of any crea­ture is self-preservation; whatsoever doth that best, is the wisest. These creatures that are all bo­dy, have well improved the instincts of nature, if they can provide for their bodily safety; Man, that is a reasōable Soule, shall have done nothing, if he make not sure work for the better part. O God, make mee Soule­wise, I shall never envy their craft, that pitty my simplicity.

CXXIV.
Vpon the sight of a Goate.

THis creature is in an ill name; it is not for any good qualities, that God hath made choice of the goate, to resemble the wicked and reprobate soule; It is unruly, and salacious, and noysome; I cannot see one of them, but I pre­sently recall to my thoughts the wofull con­dition of those on the left hand; whom God hath set aside to so feare­full a damnation. They [Page 311] are here mixed with the flock, their colour dif­fers nothing from the sheepe; or if wee doe discerne them, by their rougher coate, and odi­ous sent, wee sever our selves from them; but the time shal come, when he shall sever them from us, who hath appointed our innocencie to the fold, and their harmeful­nesse to an everlasting slaughter. Onwards, if they climbe higher then wee, and feede upon those craggy clifts which wee dare scarce reach to with our eyes; their boldnesse is not greater then their danger, nei­ther [Page 312] is their ascent more perilous, then their ruine deadly.

CXXV.
Vpon the sight of the blinde and the lame.

HEre is a true naturall commerce of senses; The blinde man hath legges; the lame man hath eyes; the lame man lendes his eyes to the blinde, the blinde man lendes, his legges to the lame; and now both of them move; where o­therwise, [Page 313] both must sit still, and perish; it is hard to say whether is more beholden to other; the one gives strength, the other direction; both of them equally necessa­ry to motion; though it bee not in other cases so sensible, yet surely this very trafique of facul­ties is that, whereby we live, neither could the world subsist without it; one man lends a braine, another an arme; one a tongue, another an hand; he that knowes where­fore hee made all, hath taken order to improve every part to the benefit of the whole; What [Page 314] doe I wish ought that is not usefull? And if there bee any thing in me that may serve to the good of others, it is not mine, but the Churche: I can­not live but by others, it were injurious if others should not likewise share with mee.

CXXVI.
Vpon the sight of a Mappe of the World.

WHat a poore little spot is a coūtry? A man may hide with his [Page 315] thumbe, the great terri­tories of those, that would bee accounted Monarchs. In vain should the great Cham, or the great Mogull, or Prester John seeke here for his Court; it is well, if hee can finde his kingdome, amongst these parcels: And, if wee take all to­gether these shreds of Ilands, and these patches of Continent, what a mere indivisible point they are in comparison of that vast circle of hea­ven wherewith they are incompassed? It is not easie for a man to bee knowne to that whole land wherein hee lives: [Page 316] but if he could be so fa­mous, the next country perhaps never heares of his name: and if he can at­tain to be talked of there, yet the remoter parts cā ­not take notice that there is such a thing: and if they did all speake of nothing else, what were hee the better? Oh the narrow bounds of earthly glory: Oh the vaine affectation of humane applause: On­ly that man is happily fa­mous, who is known, & recorded in heaven.

CXXVII.
Vpon the sight of hemlocke.

THere is no creature of it selfe, evill: mis-application may make the best, so: and there is a good use to be made of the worst: This weed which is too well pro­ved to be poysonous, yet to the Goat is medici­nall: as serving by the coldnesse of it, to temper the feverons heat of that beast: so wee see the Marmoset eating of spi­ders, both for pleasure, [Page 318] and cure: Our ignorance may not bring a scandall upon Gods workmanship, or if it do, his wise­dome knowes how to make a good use even of our injury: I cannot say but the very venome of the creatures is to excel­lent purpose, how much more their beneficiall qualities? If ought hurt us, the fault is ours, in mis-taking the evill for good: in the meane time wee owe praise to the maker and to the crea­ture a just and thankfull allowance.

CXXVIII.
Vpon a Flowre-de-luce.

THis flowre is but un­pleasingly fulsome for sent, but the root of it is so fragrant, that the delicatest Ladies are glad to put it into their sweet bagges: contrari­ly the rose-tree hath a sweet flowre, but a sa­vour-lesse root, and the saffron yeelds an odori­ferous and cordiall spire, whiles both the flowre, and the root are unplea­sing: It is with vegi­tables, as with mettals, God never meant to [Page 320] have his best alwayes in view; neither meant hee to have all eminences concealed. Hee would have us to know him to be both secretly rich, and openly bountifull. If we do not use every grace in its owne kinde, God lee­ses the thankes, and wee the benefit.

CXXIX.
Vpon the sight of two trees, one high, the other broad.

Those trees that shoot up in height are sel­dome broad; as contra­rily, [Page 321] those trees that are spreading, are seldome tall: it were too much ambition in that plant, which would bee both wayes eminent: Thus it is with men; The cove­tous man that affects to spread in wealth, sel­dome cares to aspire un­to height of honour: the proud man, whose heart it set upon prefer­ment, regards not (in comparison thereof) the growth of his wealth: There is a poore shrubbe in a valley; that is nei­ther tall nor broad, nor cares to be either, which speeds better then they both: the tall tree is cut [Page 322] downe, for timber, the broad tree is lopped for firewood: besides that the tempest hath power on them both, where­as the low shrubbe is neither envied by the winde, nor threatned by the axe, but fostered ra­ther, for that little shel­ter, which it affords the shepheard: If there bee glory in greatnes, mean­nesse hath security: Let me never envy their diet, that had rather bee un­safe, then inglorious.

CXXX.
Vpon the sight of a drunken-man.

REason is an excellent facultie; and indeed, that which alone diffe­renceth us from brute creatures; without which what is man but a two-legged beast? and, as all precious things are ten­der, and subject to mis­carriage, so is this above others; the want of some little sleepe, the violence of a fever, or one cup too much puts it into utter distemper; What can we [Page 324] make of this thing (Man I cannot call him?) Hee hath shape; so hath a dead corps, as well as he; hee hath life, so hath a beast as well as hee; Rea­son, either for the time hee hath not, or, if hee have it, he hath it so de­praved, and marred for the exercise of it, that brutishnesse is much lesse ill-beseeming; Surely, the naturall bestiality is so much lesse odious then the morall, as there is difference in the causes of both; That is of Gods making, this of our own It is no shame to the beast, that God hath made him so, it is a just [Page 325] shame to a man, that he hath made himselfe a beast.

CXXXI.
Vpon the whetting of a sithe.

REcreation is inten­ded to the minde, as whetting is to the sithe; to sharpen the edge of it; which otherwise would grow dull, and blunt; hee therefore that spends his whole time in recreation, is ever whet­ting, never mowing; his grasse may grow, and his steed starve; as contrari­ly [Page 326] he that alwaies toyles, and never recreates, is e­ver mowing, never whet­ting; labouring much to little purpose: as good no sithe, as no edge: Then onely doth the work goe forward, when the sithe is so seasonably, and moderately whet­ted, that it may cut, and so cuts that it may have the helpe of sharpening: I would so interchange, that I neither be dull with worke, nor idle and wanton with recreation.

CXXXII.
Vpon the sight of a loo­king-glasse.

VVHen I looke in a­nother mans face, I see that man, and that man sees mee, as I doe him: but when I looke in my glasse, I doe not see my selfe: I see onely an image or representa­tion of my selfe: how­soever it is like mee, yet it is not I: it is for an ig­norant child to looke be­hinde the glasse, to finde out the babe that he see­eth: I know it is not there: and that the re­semblance [Page 528] varies accor­ding to the dimnesse, or different fashion of the glasse. At our best, wee doe but thus see God here below: One sees him more clearely, ano­ther more obscurely: but all in a glasse: Here­after, wee shall see him, not as he appeares, but as hee is: So shall wee see him in the face, as hee sees us: The face of our glorified Spirits shall see the glorious face of him who is the God of Spirits: In the meane time, the proudest dame shall not more plie her glasse, to looke upon that face of hers, which shee [Page 329] thinkes beautifull, then I shall gaze upon the clearest glasse of my thoughts, to see that face of God, which I know to bee infinitely faire, and glorious.

CXXXIII.
Vpon the shining of a peece of rotten wood.

HOw bright doth this wood shine? When it is in the fire, it will not so beame forth, as it doth in this cold darknesse: What an em­bleme is here of our fu­ture [Page 330] estate? This peece, whiles it grew in the tree, shone not at all, now that it is putrified, it casts forth this plea­sing lustre: Thus it is with us: whiles wee live here, we neither are, nor seeme other then misera­ble: When we are dead once, then begins our glory, then doth the soule shine in the bright­nesse of heavenly glory, then doth our good name shine upon earth in those beames which before envie had either held in, or over-cast.

Why are wee so o­ver-desirous of our growth, when wee may [Page 331] bee thus advantaged by our rottennesse?

CXXXIV.
Vpon an Yvie tree.

BEhold a true Em­bleme of false love: here are kinde embrace­ments, but deadly: how close doth this weed cling unto that Oake, and seemes to hugge, and shade it? but in the mean time drawes away the sappe, and at last kils it: Such is an harlots love, such is a parafites: Give mee that love, and friendship, which is be­tweene [Page 332] the vine, and the elme, whereby the elme is no whit worse, and the vine much the better: That wholesome and no­ble plant doth not so close winde it selfe a­bout the tree, that up­holds it, as to gall the barke, or to sucke away the moisture: and againe the elme yeelds a benefi­ciall supportation to that weake (though gene­rous) plant. As God, so wise men know to mea­sure love, not by professi­on, and complement, (which is commonly most high, and vehement in the falsest) but by rea­lity of performance: [Page 333] Hee is no enemie that hurts mee not: I am not his friend whom I desire not to benefit.

CXXXV.
Vpon a quartan ague.

I Have known whē those things, which have made an healthfull man sick, have been the means of making a sick man, whole. The quartan hath of old been justly stiled the shame of Physicians: Yet, I have more then once observed it to bee cured by a surfet: One di­vel is sōetime used for the [Page 334] ejection of another; Thus have I also seene it in the sicknesse of the Soule: The same God whose justice is wont to punish sinne with sinne; even his mercy doth so use the matter, that he cures one sinne by another; So have we knowne a proud man healed by the shame of his uncleannesse: a fu­rious man healed by a rash bloodshed. It mat­ters not greatly what the medicine bee, whiles the Physician is infinitely powerfull, infinitely skil­full; What danger can there be of my safty, whē God shall heale me, as well by evill, as by good?

CXXXVI.
Vpon the sight of a loa­ded cart.

IT is a passionate expre­ssion, wherein God be­moanes himselfe of the sinnes of Israel, Ye have pressed mee as a cart is pressed with sheaves; An empty cart runs lightly away, but if it be sound­ly laden, it goes sadly, sets hard, groanes under the weight, and makes deepe impressions; the wheeles creak, and the axeltree bends, and all the frame of it is put un­to the utmost stresse, He [Page 336] that is ōnipotēt can bear any thing but too much sin; his Justice wil not let his mercy be over-strai­ned; No marvel if a guil­ty Soul say, Mine iniqui­ty is greater then I can beare; When the infi­nite God complaines of the weight of mens sins; But, let not vaine men thinke that God com­plaines, out of the want of power, but, out of the abundance of mercy: He cannot be the worse for our sinnes; wee are. It grieves him to bee over-provoked to our punish­ment; Then doth Hee accoūt the cart to crack, yea to breake, when hee [Page 337] is urged to breake forth into just vengeance; O Saviour, the sins of the whole world lay upon thee, thou sweatedst blood under the loade: what would become of mee, if I should beare but one sheafe of that loade; every eare where­of, yea every graine of that eare were enough to presse downe my Soule to the nethermost hell?

CXXXVII.
Vpon the sight of a Dwarfe.

AMongst all the boun­teous gifts of God, what is it that he hath e­qually bestowed upon all? except it be our ve­ry being, whiles we are; he hath not given to all men the same stature of body, not the same strength of wit, not the same capacity of memo­ry, not the same beauty of parts, not the same measure of wealth, or honor; thus hath hee done also in matter of [Page 339] grace: there are spiritu­all dwarfes, there are gi­ants; there are perfect men, children, babes, embryons; this inequa­lity doth so much more praise the mercy, and wisedome of the giver, and exercise the charity, and thankefulnesse of the receiver; the essence of our humanity doth not consist in stature; he that is little of growth, is as much man, as hee that is taller; Even so also spi­ritually, the quantity of grace doth not make the Christian, but the truth of it. I shall be glad, and ambitious to adde cubits to my height; but with­all [Page 340] it shall comfort mee to know, that I cannot bee so low of stature, as not to reach unto hea­ven.

CXXXVIII.
Vpon an importunate Begger.

IT was a good rule of him that bad us learne to pray of beggers; with what zeale doth this man sue, with what fee­ling expressions, with how forceable importu­nity? When I meant to passe by him with silēce, yet his clamour drawes [Page 341] words from mee; when I speake to him, though with excuses, rebukes, denialls, repulses, his obsecrations, his adjura­tions draw from me that almes which I meant not to give; how hee unco­vers his sores, & shewes his impotence, that my eyes may help his tongue to plead; With what o­ratory doth he force my compassion? so as it is scarce any thanke to mee that hee prevailes. Why doe I not thus to my God? I am sure I want no lesse then the needi­est; the danger of my want is greater; the almes that I crave, is bet­ter, [Page 342] the store and mercy of the giver infinitely more, Why shouldst thou give mee, O God, that which I care not to aske? Oh give me a true sense of my wants, and then I cannot bee coole in asking, thou canst not bee difficult in conde­scending.

CXXXIX.
Vpon a medicinal potion.

HOw loathsome a draught is this? how offensive, both to the eye and to the sent, and to the tast? yea, the very thought of it, is a kind of sicknesse; &, when it is once down, my very disease is not so painefull, for the time, as my remedy; how doth it turne the stomach, and wring the entrayles, and workes a worse distem­per, then that whereof I formerly complained; And yet, it must bee ta­ken [Page 344] for health; neither could it bee so whole­some, if it were lesse un­pleasing; neither could it make mee whole, if it did not first make mee sick.

Such are the chastise­ments of God, and the reproofes of a friend; harsh, troublesome, grie­vous; but in the end they yeeld the peaceable fruit of righteousnesse.

Why doe I turne a­way my head, and make faces, and shut mine eyes; and stop my nostrils, and nauseate, and abhorre to take this harmelesse po­tion for health, when we have seene Mountebanks [Page 345] to swallow dismembred toades, and drinke the poysonous broath after them, only for a little o­stentation, and gaine? It is onely weaknesse, and want of resolution that is guilty of this queasi­nesse; Why doe not I cheerefully take, and quaffe up that bitter cup of affliction, which my wise and good God hath mixed for the health of my soule?

CXL.
Vpō the sight of a wheel.

THe Prophet meant it for no other then a [Page 346] fearefull imprecation a­gainst Gods enemies, O my God, make them like unto a wheele; whereby what could he intend to signifie, but instability of condition, and suddaine violence of judgement; Those spoakes of the wheele that are now up, are, sooner then sight or thought whirled downe; and are straight raised up againe, on pur­pose to bee depressed; Neither can there bee a­ny motion so rapid, and swift, as the circular. It is a great favour of God that hee takes leasure in his affliction, so punish­ing us that wee have re­spites [Page 347] of repentance: there is life and hope in these degrees of suffe­ring; but, those hurrying and whirling judgemēts of God, have nothing in them but wrath, and con­fusion. O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger; I cannot deprecate thy re­buke; my sinnes call for correction; but I depre­cate thine anger; thou rebukest even where thou lovest; so rebuke me, that whiles I smart with thy rod, I may rejoyce in thy mercy. *⁎*