NOt to deduce this Text by long descent from precedent verses, this whole Chap­ter is a short discourse of the course of mans life, how full of miserie! how miserably short! which holy Job consi­dering armes himselfe with devout resolve, All the dayes of my appointed time, &c.

Which resolve may bee resolved into these sixe heads:

• 1. First, we have but our time.
• 2. Secondly, this time is but of dayes, very short.
• 3. Thirdly, this time nor comes, nor goes by chance, but by Divine appointment.
• 4. Fourthly, after this time comes a change, death.
• 5. Fifthly, this change is not terrible, but by all good men to be desir'd and expected.
• 6. Sixthly, this expectation by Job's example should remaine with us all our daies, All the dayes, &c.

1. Yea indeed? he that is the Map, masterpiece, and wonder of the world, hath man but this time? Why did God make his chiefest vessell for use and honour of such brittle stuffe, which would serve him but for a season? why did he build so gloriously to throw it downe again so soon? wherefore would he print his image in common clay? and adorne with such art a piece of mouldring earth? O the pitie, that wormes should pull in pieces so Divine a Forme, or that an immortall soule should be married to worms meat, a rotten carcase; the starres above far beneath man in dignitie hold still their place and splendour, and shine as cleare as when fresh from the hand of the Creatour; man like a bearded Commet blazeth a while with troubled flame, and anon consumes to no­thing; or rather like the sparkle flies up with heat, and haste, as if it meant to visit the Celestiall fires, and vanisheth by the way within few yards of the earth: If any thing of the vast creation were worthy an im­mortall being, man more: yet alas nothing more frail and mutable then he.

Why? and who may be thanke? himselfe and his sinnes. Had he kept that Righteousnesse with which God invested him in Paradise, he had equall'd the dayes of heaven; though this building were of clay, in the calm aire, & sun-shine of Gods favour it might have stood for ever; our sin turned his favour into fu­ry and tempest, and so our Cottage cannot abide the blasting of the breath of his displeasure; the sparke deserves to die that in pride flies away from the fuell that did feed it, so did man; the commet merits darknesse that bearded the starres, blazeth with pride and terrour, fils the world with blood and feares, so [Page 3]did man; what is the clay fit for but abjection? that hath lost the stampe and image that ennobled it above common dirt. Why should not worms have justice, if man trespasse on their kingdome? why may they not avenge it? they have little reason to spare him; not only these Creepers, but even the whole Creatures groane under a curse for him; that God formed so glorious a Creature out of clay, teacheth us his power, who ex omni ebore can worke wonders out of meane materials; that he made us of clay, kin to the dung-hill and dirt in the kennels, was to teach man humilitie, nor hath he wrong'd the celestiall part the soule, by cloathing her in clay, would she keepe it cleane from sin: God himselfe desires no better dwelling, the Son of God Christ Jesus did not dis­daine to become man.

Yea, and we may thank the mercy of God that we are thus confined to time; sin so adheres to our tain­ted nature, that we can never cease to commit, till we be committed to the earth; death doth enlarge us from the slaverie of sinne, since the earth is curst with thornes, our hearts hedg'd with cares, since nature is become our stepmother, and the good which should satisfie our soule, withdrawen; it is an happinesse that we shall once die, and cease from our labours; yea periissemus nisi periissemus, we had lost by our righteousnesse, we got by our sin; the goodnesse and wisdome of our God hath wrought a greater weight of Salvation for us, out of our ruines; if the first Adam had stood wee had enjoy'd but an earthly Paradise, the second Adam hath made us heires of a celestiall Inheritance.

2. As this life is but for a time, so this time is but of [Page 4]dayes, very short. The summe is but short, where all the figures are but pence, the journey not long that may be measured by Inches; the lease may well bee termed little, whose date is but for dayes. Were the life of man reckoned by Olympiads, decads, lusters, ages, or yeares, we might expect a spatious being be­twixt the Cradle and the Grave; but there needs no such large Arithmeticke, no puzling composition of numbers to fathom the life of man, minutes multi­plyed will make houres, a small passage of ours will dispatch a day, and a few dayes will measure the life of man: many doe but just looke upon the world, disdaine, and die: many rather commit patricide, and kill their mothers in the wombe, then they will daigne to looke on such a world. How many come only to suck a Bib, or shake a Ratle, and returne again to earth? I dare say the third part of mankind do not attaine to a moneth.

Our common phrase is, All the dayes of our life, the same phrase is most frequent in holy Scripture, Jacob had lived an hundred and thirtie yeares ere he de­scended into Egypt, yet he cals them but dayes, Few and evill have my dayes been. Adams time was called but dayes, though 830. yeares, Gen. 5.5. They whose possession is but for their naturall life are allowed in Law to set but from three yeares to three yeares, and truly the taker doth presume, and sometimes suffers for it: well then may we reckon humane life by dayes, when our whole was casuall and incertaine, and every piece of a day a severall mercy; hence it is (I thinke) that day is declin'd with the doubtfull Gender. But indeed dayes is a large expression, if you will consider it more narrowly; all is but a day, [Page 5]yesterday was as to day, and to morrow will not much differ, all dayes are sisters, so like, that there is little or nothing more then a numericall distinction between them; he that sees but one day hath seene the Sun arise and set, he that lingers to an hundred yeares hath seene but little more. It is true the yeare like a Gentlewoman varies oft her attire; but the person and substance is alwayes the same, and each day the Epitome of our whole life; but me thinkes a day is too much to attribute to man: that is his which he enjoyes, what is that? the time past? no, that is dead and gone; the time to come? no, that may never come: the present? yea, but what's that? an instant point, an individuum, an ens rationis, a con­ceit of our braine, indeed almost nothing: but stay, I should goe beyond my Text, if I doe, I doe not goe beyond Scripture. David saith, Mine age is nothing unto thee. Indeed that is halfe a nothing which hath an end, man hath two, our whole space is even just no­thing in respect of the dayes of Eternitie: for be­tween finite and infinite is no proportion, looke back on all the time past, all the dayes, yeares, and houres are measured with one sudden thought, which is next to nothing.

The generations of men, saith the Poet, are like the succession of leaves, which no sooner are greene, but already turning yellow, and readie to fall. Harke to the Prophets cry; what will he cry? that All flesh is grasse, and the glory thereof as the flower of the field: rising, withering, flourishing, fading, growing, decli­ning, living, dying, as it were all in an instant. David calls mans life, a spanne, a dreame, a vapour, a bubble. Salomon saith lesse, all things sublunary are vanitie, that is the appearance of nothing.

Till thou canst enjoy life, 'tis not a life but a being, or at most, but as the life of trees, which is without sence of it selfe. We have perhaps seventie yeares before us, but little of this doe we enjoy, minimum est quod vivitur. Infancy and Childhood is but the portall through which we enter into life, all that while we are not come to our selves: in youth we are so sublimed with pride; or so vehemently forc'd with headlong passion, that all that while we live like madmen, beside our selves, we cannot well be said to live till we arrive at gray haires, and no sooner do we arrive at that Meridian, but we are mellow and ripe for the grave, and indeed senectus ipsa morbus, age is nothing but a long disease, a lingring death.

Again, of that space we live, how little do we live to our selves? halfe of all is consumed in sleep, the sister of death (thanks to nature so long we are inno­cent,) of the rest, much is worne out in businesse for others, much lost and lavisht on our pleasures, some slips idlely through our fingers, little bestowed on God, or goodnesse, almost all expended on busi­nesse that least concerns us, diù fuit, non diù vixit, so much we have lived, as we have lived well, and alas how ridiculously short are our lives, if measured by our goodnesse?

O how much are they too blame, that haunt com­pany, and hunt after pastime? (that's the world) be­guiling themselves of those pretious houres which God hath given them to studie and procure Eternity; alas are the wings of time so leaden and lazie that we should adde and impe more feathers to it? time lacquies with the motions of the heavens; and they are as swift as thought, the Sun one of the lower and [Page 7]slower Planets, moves not lesse then foure thousand miles every minute; if you are sure of heaven, spur on, delude time as you list: but if not, O why should you hasten your misery.

O how much to blame is the covetous man, he not considering how short his time is, rakes and toiles to heap up a miskin of wealth, as if he meant to live for ever; what doth he think to continue still? why? there is a statute of mortalitie against him, Statutum est semel mori. Doth he think to bribe death? it will not be, Mors aquo pede pulsat pauperum tabernas, Re­gúmque turres. The rich man died also; doth he think to carry it with him? no, we must not allow trans­portation of our money to hell, nudus venit, naked he came, naked he must return. What, will he lay it up for his children? I thinke he that truly loves mo­ney little thinks of that: if he did (marry) he would doe them a great pleasure to leave them cursed wealth to undoe them; he will lay it up for his old age, and then enjoy it, least of all; quo minus via, eo plus viatici, covetousnesse is fiercest in the close, he will rather choke himself with cares, or starve him­self, not daring to diminish his mouldy god, his treasure.

Since our time is so short a Kalendar of a day, O how much too blame is the intemperate glutton, and drunkard, that drink away their health, and fill their body with diseases; every intemperate draught is but a sweet poyson, the glutton eates his knife, and God may justly challenge them of self murder, that thus will eate and drinke in spight of health and nature, and so shorten that precious time, which God indul­ged for better purpose.

Is life so short at utmost extension, O cursed con­dition of men that delight in bloud, that like Atropos make a trade of killing, butchers of their brethren, traytors to nature, why should we cut that thread which another will shortly cut? why should we en­vy our Brethren a little light? why shouldest thou envie light to thy self? thy thread (murderer) is twist with his whom thou slayest, just vengeance hath de­creed, the bloudy minded man shall not live out half his dayes.

Is life so short? why then being mortall doe we nourish immortall hatred against our Brother? hath he done thee wrong? forbear the fault, the sentence of death is upon him; anon the worms will pull him all to peeces, what greater revenge canst thou desire? dum luctamur, aderit immortalitas; spight of all thy spight death will disarm the, & make thee lye quietly in the grave with thy contemned Brother. If life be so short? why doe we post off repentance, and make so little care to prepare for the presence of the Judge and hazard our salvation to the extreamest minutes? how many that long since might have been raked up in the grave, are but beginning to live? nay 'tis not so well, they doe but say they will begin, but let him that means to goe to heaven, set out betimes, lest like the foolish boy we game out the candle which should light us to bed; time past will not be recalled, and we have a spatious distance to dispatch in a few mi­nutes, how short and uncertain soever our dayes are to us, with God they are determined and appointed: so saith my Text, All the dayes of my appointed time.

3. God Almighty hath set up bounds which wee cannot passe, and untill that houre which he hath de­termined [Page 9]doe approach, we cannot dye: this paper body of ours is proofe against all violence; to this a­grees that of Job (above) thou hast made my dayes, as the dayes of an hireling; the hireling is but for a cer­tain time. That of Salomon, There is a time to be borne, and a time to dye, this appears by this, that many a­mongst us are Prophets, and have with certain predi­ction pointed out the time of their departure, if their departure were not definite and certain, how could they foresee when they should expire?

This more especially appears by our many haire­bredths escapes of death and danger, who is alive to day, that hath not been often at the gates of death? Joseph was thrown into the pit, the pit did not shut her mouth upon him; Daniel to the Lions, the Lions did not open their mouth to hurt him; Moses tottered in an Arke of sedge, that simple boat brought him a shore, and landed him in the armes of a Princesse; the three children were thrown into the furnace, the fire could not singe them; Jonah in the tempestuous sea, all the waters would not drown him; Paul was in perils oft, in death oft, yet still reserved a sacrifice for Rome; how oft stood Caesar in the face of death amongst his enemies to be at last slain in the Capitoll by his friends; how many deaths did that Romane avoid to be at last choakt with a haire; how many come safe from battle over the dead bodies of those that stood round about them; behold how the pesti­lence that walks in darknesse, picks, and chooseth out of some frequent families but one; out of others all but one. Who would not admire how those floate upon the deepe three or foure years within three or foure inches of death, where every wind and wave [Page 10]threatens death, yet return with safety to the shore; yea in a common shipwrack how many have the bro­ken peeces of the vessel saved, when the whole one could not? what was all this, chance? let Atheists and Heathens say so, we Christians must explode it, certainly it appears to me by this that God Almigh­ty hath allotted each man his fate, which no danger how great, or near can alter.

That to every man is an appointed time, appears also in part by this, that the shadow of death flies him that pursues it, and follows him that would fly it, death hovers over him that delights in life, and de­clines him that despiseth it. It seems death dare not strike, but like the Clock, till the just numbers of mi­nutes be accomplished. Why else should he not come, when called and importuned? I have heard some disdaine, and call death partiall, that they can­not die; I have seen him hit others in the height and vigour of strength, and beauty, with unexpected and most unwelcome stroke; the yong and frolike bul­lock falls for the shambles, the old oxe reserved to groan in the accustomed yoke.

Nor seems it any wonder to me, that man should be appointed his time, he was not born at his owne appointment, much lesse is it fit that he should dye at his own discretion. The keyes of life and death be­long to God. If it be in my power to grant the lease, it is also of my right to limit the time. 'Tis not man alone, that hath his time appointed, but even e­very creature; the sparrow falls not to the ground but by Gods decree: yea, the whole creature, there is a day and hour set downe, when the whole world shall determine, when the Elements shall melt, the [Page 11]Moon be turned to bloud, the Sunne eclipsed for e­ver, and the great Machin of the world shaken and dissolved. From the consideration of this point, wee may make to our selves these wholesome uses.

First not to love life too much, not to be too anxi­ous, and sollicitous to produce and extend it; nor to trust in diet, herbs, aire, or art; as if length of dayes were to be had from hence. Let us not like Asa, seek to a second; first the physitian rather then the Lord, Let us look up to Jehovah, submit our selves to his pleasure, and appointment. Let us not presume of that which is not in our power, but refer our selves to God, and accept of every day as a new life, and mercy; Grata superveniet quae non sperabitur hora.

A second use is of patience to wait the Lords lei­sure and salvation; not like the fresh bullock to shake the yoke of affliction, & make it worse by our anger, bear thine affliction patiently, tis by his appointment. Wilt thou not suffer a little for the Lords sake? the Lord Jesus suffered all afflictions for thee; nay, but it is appointed for thy sake, out of this furnace thou wilt come like gold refined, this fire was but to purge thy drosse, and burnish thee for heaven. Shall we receive of God good and not evill? Shall we not wel­come the evil that comes for our good? be patient a while, anon thy pain will cease; 'tis our a finite evill our dayes have their date, our life anon determines, this heavy night may have a cheerfull morn. Dabit Deus his quoque finem.

A third use is against too much mourning for the dead, this is our great fault, we mortals love mortall things, as if the fruition and use were immortall. Me thoughts it was a brave voice of that Romane, that [Page 12]at report of his sonnes death, said, Scio me mortalem genuisse, I knew I did not beget a God, that could not dye. Thy friend is dead, what hath he lost? his lease is expired, he had his time appointed; thou deservedst to loose, that wouldst build on lease-hold as tenure free for ever. Cadant lacrymae, non fluant, let tears fall not flow. Can the hot waters of thy tears recover him? the voice of thy grones awake him? Thy friend is dead, couldst help? canst recall him? that griefe is to no purpose which will doe no good. I will allow you to shed a few tears over the herse, as a ceremony of your friends funerall, and a monument of your love, that you are not flint, or iron, but men sensible of others evils, endued with naturall affection; no farther. But why should we mourn? our friend is not lost, but gone before, anon thou must goe the same way: if he did thee wrong to dye before thee, forgive him, he will never doe so any more; thou wilt anon shew others the same trick, kick up the heeles, and lead others mourning after thy hearse. Thy friend is not dead, but sleepes, disturbe not his rest with thy noise. Thy friend is not dead, but divided, and like a foule watch taken asunder, his materials remain. Thy friend is not dead, but changed, so my Text cals death, All the dayes of mine appointed time will I wait till my change come.

4. Mutability and mortalitie like ice and water beget each other; man was at first perfect but muta­ble; his mutabilitie made him mortall, and his mor­talitie makes him again mutable; by this change Job must needs understand death. 'Tis true, man, as if he had been the sonne of the Moone is full of change, no one man is two dayes alike: the weather varies [Page 13]oft, the face of Heaven is sometimes lowring, some­time serene, sometime maskt with clouds, sometimes bathed in mists; man varies with the weather, yea and more then the weather, now he is calme and temperate, anon he is clouded with cares, one while he is gladsome and cheerfull, then the Sun shines; another time chafed and angry, then it thunders; ano­ther while he weeps, then it rains; but this change of the Text follows all our appointed dayes, which is onely death. Death is a great change indeed. First we change from health to sicknesse, then our cheer­full looks are changed into ghastly palenesse, our strength into pain and weaknesse, the whole man into another man, happy if into a new man. The next change is from sicknesse to death, a great change in­deed: our handsome habits are changd into a shroud, our habitation into a Coffin, our Lands into a Grave, nay we into our Lands; our lively heat into an ever­lasting cold, our mirth into sable mourning, Man goes unto his long home, and the mour ners walke about the streets, the Bells ring of these changes; by this the Family changeth too, the Wife is become a Wi­dow, the sonne fatherlesse, the master without a ser­vant, the servant masterlesse; these changes once in fifty yeers renew the face of the world. Death doth change a marriage into a divorce; life is the union of the soul and body, death the separation; the soul is sent back to her heavenly Father, the body to her Mother, the Earth; this is a great change in­deed, that two that lived so long, and so lovingly should be separated so long, and into places so re­mote.

Death is a change of a compounded body into his [Page 14]native principles; the Aire receives our breath, the Sun our heat, the Sea our moisture, the Earth that which we had of her, our dust; these Elements which were ere while knit in one common building are now distructed into all the world; where will you look for the parcels of your dead friend, his breath perhaps helps to drive a ship in some remote Sea, his moisture perhaps went up into the grasse which grew on the grave, and the Horse hath eate it, you must look quickly for the rest of his carcase, ere the worms have eate it, perhaps the fisher hath baited his weels with the worms that fed on your friend; here is a change indeed.

Death is a change from variety of forme and con­dition into all alike; among the living there is much difference, one is noble, another base; in death Dio­genes as great as Mansolus, Menippus as good a man as great Alexander; In this life some are rich, the rest poore; In death there is not respect of riches, the carcase of Irus may boldly stink by Craesus with­out any offence; Among the living some are faire, some ill-favoured, among the dead there is not a pin to choose between Sappho and Hellen, Thersites and Aeneas, all are bald pate, hollow-eyed, flat nosed, chap fallen, and grim alike; Amongst us there is dif­ference of wits, one is sharp and subtle, another blunt and simple, let them lye a little in the grave toge­ther, and you will not discern the wise man from the foole, the grave Politician from the canting beggar. If that this change were much in our mind, who then would be proud of wealth, that anon must be stript of all; of wit, whose fine head must be filled with musty mould; of birth, that must descend into [Page 15]the bowels of the earth; of beauty, which will wi­ther into deformitie; of his person, which lice and wormes must eate; of any thing, since anon all will be alike; the worst in the world as good as he.

5. But yet Beloved, this change is no robbery, al­though we suffer a little, we shall not loose by it; we are not lesse men with God, he numbers and reckons the dead, he is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. We cannot loose by this dissolution, it is impossible that any thing should perish into nothing, else there would be vacuity, and God must create a new to re­pair the losse; no, the earth will give back our dust, the Sun our heat, the aire our breath, the water our moisture; each part of the world each part of every man, and the dead shall live againe. Observe Jobs blessed confidence, I shall see God in my flesh, not with other but with these same eyes: how possible is it to presume a resurrection, when God Almighty that so made us at first out of nothing, hath now all the former materials, and the soule entire, ready and dis­posed for the work? Nay we are so far from loosing by this change, that we get much by it; to change la­bour for ease and rest, is a good bargain; life is torne and distracted with many cares, in the grave is no noise or disturbance, Blessed are the dead, they rest from their labours; to change corruption for incor­ruption is a great bargaine, the lying in the Grave doth draine away our poyson and corruption, and returns it pure and perfect; to change a lease of few yeers into a free, and perpetuall tenure is great gaine, by dying we turn our Copy-hold for life into life immortall; to change the world for Christ is a glo­rious advantage, all things compared to Christ are [Page 16]losse and dung, by being dissolved we come to Christ; In a word, if glorious and crowned liberty be better than continuall bondage, if a state triumphant be bet­ter than a militant, if fulnesse be better than famine, and substance than shadow, heaven than the dunghill earth, and eternitie than doubtfull time; then are we much better, and more happy by this change of death; Hence it is that holy Job looks and longs for this change, as he saith in my Text, All the dayes of my appointed time, &c. Of this one word.

6. If Job waits for the salvation of God, then hath he faith towards him, for we doe not wait for that which we thinke will not come; If wee will make this change of death happy and beneficiall unto us, we must like Job expect the mercy of God, beleeve that he is, and that he is a faithfull rewarder of them that seeke him; that this God hath salvation in his hand for them that will stretch forth the hand of faith to receive it from him.

If Job wait, then hath he hope to receive, all expe­ctation is mixed with hope, if heaven be not hoped for, it cannot happen to us; if we want this anchor, we may oft try to land, and be as often driven back in the troubles of the labouring deep.

This expectation cannot be without contented patience; He that is impatient will not wait, You have heard of the patience of Job, you know the passi­on and patience of the Lambe Christ Jesus. If we will follow him, we must take up our crosse, if we will raigne, we must suffer, it is fit we should suffer somewhat, for glory in heaven were cheap and con­temptible, if we might attain it easily.

This waiting and expectation supposeth prepara­tion, every one that hath this hope, faith the Apostle, purgeth himselfe, as he is pure. How doe we wash, and combe, and trimme our selves, when call'd to some honourable Feast; and thinke wee that the King of Heaven will accept into his glorious Pa­lace, and immortall Dainties, them which have not washt their hands in innocencie? and made them fit for such a Feast? the Feast is worth the waiting for, 'tis Immortalitie; the Author of the Feast hath long waited for us, we had need to waite with oile in our Lampe; we know not when the Bridegroome will knocke, we cannot doe better then to wait, this glo­rious Expectation will swallow up, or sweeten all our present calamitie, we have nothing else to doe but to wait; indeed we should doe nothing else, and Blessed are they whom the Lord when he commeth shall finde so doing.

The summe of all amounts to this, God with his glorious Angels is comming to us, he sends his Em­bassadours before him, to tell and warne us of his comming, He tarries a while to try our Faith and Patience, He tarries a while to give us time to pre­pare for his comming, that comming and finding us prepared he may crowne us with immortall glory.

Thus beloved have I hastned through a spatious Text, and 'twas fit I should, Brevitie was the main subject thereof, and he that is comming might for ought we know have come ere I had dispatcht it; Please you now to wait while I speak a word or two to this sad occasion of our meeting, and so I will dismisse you.

We are met here to doe the last honour to our de­parted Sister, and in her name I thanke this worthy Assembly that come to wait on her deserved Obse­quies; would she had a better Orator, this presence, especially this subject deserved it; my happinesse is the goodnesse of the subject will help out my imper­fect Oratory. I know by her no infirmities that I should need to hide or colour; I need not racke, or torture my invention to force her a praise; I neede not straine or dissemble a syllable; she hath filld my mouth with true and reall honour.

This Text is true in her, we have our time, she had hers, God be thanked a time of peace and plenty; our time is short, 'tis true, hers was neere fourescore, al­most two lusters beyond the age of man, if we reckon the number of dayes, and innumerable grievances of life; she lived long I must confesse, but if we mea­sure her life by the affection of her friends, and neigh­bours, they will I know confesse with me, that hers was too too short, she died much too soone. Our time is appointed, so was hers; she was not cut off by un­timely chance, she shortned not her dayes by intem­perate diet, she long enjoyed a quiet and entire old age, and like an undisturbed taper burnt out to the last weeke, yea a good while since with prophetique prediction she points out the time of her departure. We shall have our change, she hath wained some few weekes and now hath hers, from corruptible to in­corruption, from mortall life to life immortall, from the light of this world, by which we see a world of miserie, to the light of Heaven, and Righteousnesse, which shall never be changed, obscured, nor eclipsed.

This for her we may well presume, for my owne part I desire from my soule my last end may be like unto hers, with firme faith, cheerefull hope, settled patience, and perpetuall preparation, she waited, ex­pected, called, and invited Christ. So farre with my Text, but I should wrong her much to say no more, she was an excellent neighbour, I speake it before them that know it, and have most ingeniously con­fest it, she was gratefull to the best, gratious to the poore, peaceable, officious and affable to all.

She was an excellent wife, witnesse the many tears her husband shed, truer teares I dare say never fell at funerall; witnesse his charge, and charitie to bring her home with honour. She like that Embleme of a good Houswife was seldome farre from home, at home most neatly industrious, but especially so lo­ving to her husband, that where to patterne such sweet conjugall Societie I professe I know not; Let us learne it, (beloved,) beleeve it, it is a great advan­tage for heaven to be well skill'd in the dutie of mar­riage; this marriage is but for a time, death will di­vorce it, the second time we should be married to Christ, and will he wed them to himselfe whom he knew froward and unchaste to a former Spouse? This true good tree hath borne good fruit to the honour and good of this Church, they that have tasted it tru­ly, have praised it for a fragrant and gracious savour, not many Orchards afford the like; she was happy in it to the last.

But which is above all, she was a very good Chri­stian, witnesse her meeknesse, one of the truest markes of a Christian, meek she was as appeared by her Ma­tron-like [Page 20]plainnesse; so meeke, that she scorn'd not to hold discourse with a Child that could scarce speake againe to her, an argument of that childish innocency by which we attaine heaven.

A good Christian she was, witnesse that great Ex­ample of her devotion, she lived like Anna as it were continually in the Temple, twice a day for many decads of yeares, she attended the worship of God Almightie in this Church, nor would she leave that holy use, for age and weaknesse, but spight of sickness, as if she meant to sacrifice her life to God, she came still, till the heavie weight of death detained her in her bed.

For her Charity, a main part of the essence of a Christian; I must say for that part of Charity that pertains to the tongue, in judging and censuring, she did excell, she loved not to hear, she abhorred to speak evill of any, she would give fair and candid con­structions to all actions, loving and reverend counsell to all that came neer her. As for the Charitie of her purse, I know not what it was, nor indeed was it her desire that any should know; but this know, she bred up Orphanes, sent often meat, and money to her sick neighbours, her servant hath been seen to distribute good pieces of money to many poor families from yeer to yeer, from house to house, I am sure if it were known who sent it, it was the servants fault, for she charged her the contrary; she loved (happy wo­man) to hide her treasure, and keep the left hand ig­norant of what the right had done. I am fain to glean and guesse at her Charity, surely if all were knowne, it would amount to a great summe, and her great [Page 21]glory, she rather desired that God might have the glory, to whom of due it belongs. Goe to the earth blessed Earth, and sleep there sweetly, till the Resur­rection, thy other part is ere this safe arrived to the bosome of Abraham: Blessed Lord, give us grace so to follow her holy example, that we may at last come to those unspeakable joyes, which thou hast prepared for all them that unfainedly love thee, and expect thy comming. Even so come Lord Jesus.

Amen. Soli Deo gloria.