THough it hath beene doubt­ed if there be in the Soule of Man such imperious and superexcel­lent Power, as that it can by the vehement and ear­nest [Page 2]working of it, deliuer knowledge to another without bodily Organs, and by the only concepti­ons and Ideas of it, pro­duce reall effects, yet it hath beene euer and of all thought infallible & most certaine, that it often (ei­ther by outward inspirati­on, or some secret motion of it selfe) is augure of its owne Misfortunes, and hath shadowes of com­ming Dangers presented vnto it, a while before they fall forth. Hence so ma­ny strange apparitions and signes, true Visions, Dreames most certaine, [Page 3]vncouth languishings and drowsinesse, of which to seeke a reason, vnlesse from the sparkling of GOD in the Soule; or from the God-like sparkles of the Soule, were to make Rea­son vnreasonable, in reaso­ning of things transcen­ding her reach.

Hauing often and di­uers times, when I had gi­uen my selfe to rest in the quiet solitarinesse of the night, found my imagina­tion troubled with a con­fused feare, no, sorrow, or Horror, which interrup­ting sleepe did confound my senses, and rouse mee [Page 4]vp all appalled, and trans­ported in a suddaine ago­ny and sad amazednes; of such an vnaccustomed perturbation and name­lesse woe, not knowing, nor being able to imagine any apparant cause, carri­ed away with the streame of my (then doubting) thoghts, I was brought to ascribe it to that secret fore-knowledg & presage­ing Power of the Prophe­ticke Mind; and to inter­pret such an agonie to bee to the Spirit, as a faintnes and vniuersall wearinesse is to the Body, a token of following sicknesse, or as [Page 5]the Earth-quakes are to great Cities, Harbingers of greater calamities, or as the roring of the Sea is, in a stil calme, a signe of some ensuing tempest.

Hereupon, not thinking it strange, if whatsoeuer is humane should befall me, knowing how Prouidence abates griefe, and discoun­tenances crosses, and that as we should not despaire of euils, which may hap­pen vs, wee should not trust too much in those goods we enioy: I began to turne ouer in my re­membrance all that could afflict miserable mortali­tie, [Page 6]and to fore-cast euery thing that with a Maske of Horror could shew it selfe to humane eyes, till in the end, as by vnities and points, Mathematicians are brought to great num­bers and huge greatnesse, after many fantasticall glā ­ces of mankinds sorrow, and those incumbrances which follow life, I was brought to thinke, and with amazement, on the last of humane euils, or (as one said) the last of all dreadfull and terrible things, Death.

And why may wee not beleeue that the Soule [Page 7](though darkely) fore-see­ing, and hauing secret in­telligence of that sharpe diuorcement it is to haue from the body, should be ouergrieued and surprised with an vncouth and vn­accustomed sorrow? And at the first encounter exa­mining their neere vnion, long familiarity & friend­ship, with the great chang, paine, and vglines, which is apprehended to bee in Death, it shall not appeare to be without reason.

They had their beeing together, parts they are of one reasonable Creature, the hurting of the one, is [Page 8]the enfeebling of the wor­king of the other, what deare contentments doth the Soule enioy by the senses? They are the gates and windowes of its know­ledge, the Organs of its delight; if it bee grieuous to an excellent Lutanist to bee long without a Lute, how much more must the want of so noble an instru­ment bee painefull to the Soule? And if two Pil­grims who haue wandred some few miles together, haue a hearts griefe when they part, what must the sorrow be at the parting of two so louing friends, as [Page 9]is the Soule and Body?

Death is the violent estranger of acquaintance, the eternall diuorcer of Marriage, the rauisher of the Children from the Pa­rents, the stealer of the Pa­rents, from the Children, the intomber of Fame, the only cause of forgetfulnes, by which men talk of them that are gon away, as of so many shadows, orageworn Stories. It is not ouercome by pride, made meeke by flattery, staied by Time; Wisedome saue this, can preuent & help any thing: nor Youth, nor Vertue, nor Beauty, can make it relent and [Page 10]becom partial: It is the rea­sonles breaker off of al acti­ons, by this wee enioy no more the sweet pleasures of Earth, nor behold the stately Vault of Heauen, Sunne perpetually setteth, Stars neuer rise vnto vs, all strength by this is tane a­way, all comlinesse defa­ced, Glory made ignoble, Honour turned into con­tempt: This in an houre robbeth vs of, what with so great toyle and care in many yeeres, we haue hea­ped together: Successions of Linages by this are cut short; Kingdomes want Heires, and greatest [Page 11]States remaine Orphanes. By Death wee are exiled from this excellent City of the World, it is no more a world vnto vs, nor wee no more People vnto it.

That Death, naturally is terrible & to be abhorred, it cannot altogether be de­nied, it being a priuatiō of Life, & a not-being, & eue­ry priuation being abhor­red of nature, and euill of it selfe, yet I haue often thought that euen natu­rally, to a minde by onely nature resolued and pre­pared, it is more terrible in conceite then in verity, and at the first glance, then [Page 12]when well looked vpon, & that rather by the weak­nesse of our fantasie, then by what is in it; and that the solemnities and shews of it, did adde much more vglinesse vnto it, then o­therwise it hath: to auerre which conclusion, when I had gathered my astoni­shed thoughts, I beganne thus with my selfe:

If on the great Theater of this Earth, amongst the numberlesse number of Men, this condition were onely proper to thee and thine, then vndoubtedly, thou hadst reason to re­pine at so vniust and par­tiall [Page 13]a Law: But since it is a necessity, from the which neuer an age by­past hath been exempted, and vnto which those which bee, and so many as are to come, are thralled, it being as common, as a­ny the most vulgar thing to sence, why shouldst thou in thy peeuish oppo­sition take so vneuitable and familiar a chance to heart? This is the broad path of mortalitie, our ge­nerall home; behold what millions haue trod it be­fore thee, what multitudes shall after thee, with them who at that same instant [Page 14]runne. In so vniuersall a calamity (if DEATH bee one) priuate com­plaints cannot bee heard, with so many royall Palaces, it is no losse to see thy poore cabin burne. Shall the Heauens stay their euer-roling wheeles (for what is the motion of them? but the motion of a swift, and euer-whirling wheele, which twineth forth, and againe vp­roleth our Life,) and hold still time, to prolong thy miserable dayes? As if they had nothing to doe els, but to serue thy humor. Thy Death is a peece of [Page 15]the order of this All, a part of the life of this World: for while the World is the World, some creatures must die, and other take Life. Eternall things are raysed farre aboue this Spheare of generation & corruption, where the first matter, like an euer-flow­ing and ebbing Sea, with diuerse waues, but the same water remayneth; what is below in the vni­uersality of the kind, not in it selfe doth abide, Man a long line of yeeres hath beene, this Man euery hundreth is swept away. This Center is the sole Re­gion [Page 16]of Death, the Graue where euery thing that ta­keth life, must rotte, a Stage of change, only glo­rious in the vnconstancy, and manifold alterations of it, which though many, seeme yet to abide one, and being one, are yet e­uer many. The neuer a­greeing bodies of the Ele­mentall Brethren turne one in another, the Earth changeth her countenance with the Seasons, some­times looking colde and naked, other times, hote & flowrie; nay I cannot tell how, but euen the lowest of those heauenly bodies, [Page 17]that mother of Moneths, and Lady of Seas and moysture, as if shee were a mirror of our constant in­constancy, by her too great nearenesse vnto vs seemeth to participate of our changes, neuer seeing vs twice with that same face, whiles appearing dark, now pale, sometimes againe shining vnto vs. Death no lesse then Life, doth here act a part, the taking away of what is old, being the making of a way for what is yong. Which since it is so, and must of necessity bee so, thou must learne to will, that which [Page 18]he wills, whose very wil­ling giueth beeing to all that it wills, and rather to reuerence the ord'rer, then repine at the order, for we be borne not to giue lawes to God, and his Lieute­nant Nature, but to obey those Lawes which they haue giuen.

If thou dost complaine that there shall be a Time, in the which thou shalt not be, why dost thou not too regreat that there was a Time, in the which thou wast not? And so, that thou art not as old as that enlifening Planet of Time? For not to haue [Page 19]been a thousand yeere be­fore this moment, is as much to bee deplored, as not to be a thousand after it. We know what Death is by the thought of that Time, and estate of our selues, which was ere wee were. Death is not to bee, that will be after vs, which long lōg ere we were, was. Our Nephewes haue that same reason to vex them­selues, that they were not young men in our dayes, which wee haue to com­plaine that we shall not be old in theirs; they who fore-went vs, did make place vnto vs: and shall we [Page 20]grieue to leaue a roome to them who come after vs? The Violets haue their time, though they liue not in the cold Winter, and the Gilly-flowers keepe their season, though they spread not their leaues in the Spring.

Empires, States, King­domes, haue by the doom of the supreame Proui­dence their fatall periods, great Cities lie sadly buri­ed in their dust, Arts and Sciences haue not onely their eclipses, but their waynings and deaths, the gastly Wonders of the World raysed by the Am­bition [Page 21]of ages are ouer­throwne, the excellent Fa­bricke of this Vniuerse it selfe shall one day suffer ruine, or a change like a ru­ine, and poore Earth-lings thus to be handled, com­plain. Seek now the Assyri­an, Median, & Persian Em­pires: where is the posterity of that great Macedonian? And the terror of this Earth the Romane Caesars?

But is this life so great a good, that the losse of it shold be so deare vnto mā? If it be? the meanest crea­tures of nature thus be hap­py, for they liue no less thē he: if it be so? how is it estee­med [Page 22]by man himselfe at so smal a rate? that for so smal gaine, nay, a light word, he wil not stand to lose it? what excellency is there in it, for the which Man should de­sire it perpetually, and re­pine to return to his great Grand-mother Dust? Of what worth are the labors and actions of it, that the interruption and leauing off of them should bee be­wayled? Is not the entring into life weakenesse? The continuing sorrow? Man in the one is exposed to all the iniuries of the Ele­ments, and like a condem­ned trespasser (as if it were [Page 23]a fault to com to the light) no sooner born, thē bound and manacled; in the o­ther, like a Ball hee is vn­cessātly tossed in the Ten­nis-court of this VVorld: VVhen hee is in the Me­ridian of his glory, there mistereth nothing to de­stroy him, but to let him fall his owne hight, a reflex of the Sun, a blast of wind, nay, the glance of an Eye is sufficient to kill him.

His Body is but a Masse of discording humors boi­led together by the con­spiring vertues of the Pla­nets, which though agree­ing for a time, yet can ne­uer [Page 24]be made vniforme and brought to a iust propor­tion. To what sicknesse is it subiect vnto, beyond those of the other crea­tures? no part of it beeing which is not particularly infected and afflicted by some one, nay euery part of it with many; so that not without reason, the life of diuers of the meanest creatures of Nature hath beene preferred (by the most wise) to the naturall life of Man. And wee should rather be broght in a maze, how so fragila mat­ter should so long endure, then how so soone decay.

Are the actions of the most part of men any thing different from those labo­rious exercises of Spiders, that lye in ambush to pray on the simpler, and euisce­rate themselues many dais for the weauing of a fraile web, which when finished with great toyle, a blast of wind carrieth away both the Worke and the Wor­ker? Or are they not such indeed as bee the toyes of little Children? Or to hold them at their highest rate, as is some earnest game at Chesse? Euery day we rise and lye down, apparell and disapparell [Page 26]our selues, weary our Bo­dies, and refresh them, which is a circle of idle trauels; sometime wee are in a chase after a fading beauty; now wee seeke to enlarge our bounds, aug­ment our Treasure, fee­ding poorely to purchase what wee must leaue (per­haps) to a foole, or (which is not much better) a Pro­digall heire: raised again with the wind of Ambiti­on, wee court that idle name of Honor, not con­sidering that men in glassy places are but tortured ghosts, wandring in gol­den Fetters, and glistring [Page 27]Prisons, hauing feare and danger their vnseparable executioners, in the midst of multitudes rather gar­ded then regarded.

Those whom inward Melancholly hath made weary of the Worlds eye, who haue withdrawne themselues frō the course of earthly affaires, by thoughts curious, sad re­grets, idle contemplati­ons, liue a life farre worse then others, their wit bee­ing too quicke to giue them a true taste of woe, while those of a more shal­low and simple conceit, haue want of knowledge [Page 28]and ignorance of them­selus, for a remedy against euery other euill. What Camelion, what Euripe, what Moone doth change so oft as man? Hee see­meth not the same person in one and the same Day, by reason of his subiection to his priuate Passions.

Young, wee scorne our childish conceits, and wa­ding deeper in yeeres (for yeres are a Sea into which we wade vntill we drown) we esteeme our Youth in­constancy, Folly, Rashnes: Old, wee begin to pity our selues, plaining, because we are changed, that the [Page 29]World is changed: Like them in a Shippe, which when it is they that launch frō the shore, are brought to beleeue that the shore doth flie from them. Whē we are freed of euill in our owne estate, wee begin to grudge and vex our selues at the happinesse and for­tunes of others, wee are fraught, wee care for what is present, with sadnes for what is by-past, with feare for that which is to come, nay, for that which will ne­uer come; we deeme that pitty, which is but weake­nes, and plunge our selues in the deepest gulfes of an­guish, [Page 30]one day still laying vp strife of griefe for the next. The Aire, the Sea, the Fire, the Beasts be cru­ell executioners of Man, yet Beasts, Fire, Sea, and Ayre, bee pitifull to Man, in respect of Man; for, mo men are destroied by men, then by them all.

What wrongs, scornes, contumelies, prisons, poy­sons, torments, receiueth man of man? What en­gines and new workes of death are daylie found forth by man against man? What Lawes to thrall his liberty? Fantasies and scar-crowes to inueigle his [Page 31] reason? Amongst the Beastes, is there any hath so seruile a lot in ano­thers behalfe as man? yet neither is content, nor hee who raigneth, nor he who serueth.

The halfe of our Life is spent in sleepe, which (sith it is a release of care, the balme of woe, and indiffe­rent arbiter vnto all) must be the best, and yet is but the shadow of Death: and who would not rather thē suffer the Slings, and Ar­rows of outragious For­tune, the whips and scorns of time, the oppressors wrongs, the proud mans [Page 32]contumelies, sleepe euer (that is, dye) and end the Heart-ake, and the thou­sand naturall Shocks, that flesh is heire to? Our hap­pinesse heere, seemeth ra­ther in the wanting of e­uils, and being free of cros­ses, then in the enioying of any great good. What hath the brauest of mor­tals to glory in? Is it great­nesse? Who can be great on so small a round as this Earth? and bounded with so short a course of Time? How like is that to castles, or imaginary Cities, buil­ded in the Skie, of chance-meeting Clouds? Or to [Page 33]Giants modelled (for a sport) of Snow, which at the hotter lookes of the Sunne do melt away? such an impetuous vicissitude so towseth the estates of this World. Is it know­ledge? But wee haue not yet attained a perfect vn­derstanding of the smal­lest floure, and why, the grasse should rather bee greene, then red, the Ele­ment of fire is quite put out the Ayre is but water rari­fied, some affirme there is another world of men and creatures, with Cities, and Towers in the Moone, the Sunne is lost, for it is [Page 34]but a cleft in the lower Heauens, through which the light of the highest shines: What is all we know, compared with what wee know not? It is (perhaps) artificiall cun­ning: how many curiosi­ties be framed by the least creatures of Nature, vnto which, the industry of the most curious Artizans doth not attaine? Is it Riches? What are they but snares of Liberty, bands to such as haue them, possessing, rather then possessed: Metalls which Nature hath hidde (foreseeing the great euill [Page 35]they should occasion) and the only opinion of Men, hath brought in estima­tion? When wee haue gathered the greatest a­boundance, wee our selues can enioy no more there­of, then so much as be­longs to one man, Rich and great men doe their businesse by others, the les­ser doe them themselues. Will some talke of our pleasures? It is not (though in the fables) told out of purpose, that Pleasure be­ing called in haste from Earth to Heauen, did here forget her apparell, which Sorrow hauing thereafter [Page 36]found (to deceiue the World) attired her selfe with; and if wee shall con­fesse the truth of most of our ioyes, we must say that they are but disguised Sor­rows, the drammes of our honey, are lost in pounds of Gall, Remorse neuer en­sueth our best Delights. Will some Ladies vaunt of their Beauties? That is but skinne-deepe, of two senses onely knowne, short euen of Marble Statues and Pictures, dangerous to the beholder, and hurt. full to the possessor, an ene­my to Chastity, a thing made to delight others, [Page 37]and not those who haue it, a superficiall lustre hiding Bones and the Braines, things fearefull to bee loo­ked vpon; growth of yeres doth take it away, or sick­nesse, or sorrow preuen­ting them; our strength, matched with that of the vnreasonable creatures, is but weakenesse.

If Death be good, why should it be feared? And if it bee the worke of Na­ture, how shall it not bee good? And how shall it not bee of Nature? Sith what is naturally generate, is subiect to corruption, for such a composition [Page 38]cannot euer endure, but must of necessity dissolue. Againe, how is not Death good, fith it is the thaw of all those miseries which the frost of life bindeth to­gether? In two or three ages (without Death) what an vnpleasant spectacle were the most flourishing Cities in the World? For what should there bee to be seene in them, saue bo­dies languishing, and courbing againe into the Earth? Pale disfigured fa­ces, Skelitones in stead of Men? And what were there to bee heard, but the regrets of the yong, and [Page 39]Plaints of the aged, with the pittifull cries of sicke and pining persons? there is almost no infirmity worse then age.

If there bee any euill in Death, it would appeare to bee for that paine and torment, which we appre­hend to arise of the brea­king of those straight bāds which keep the Soule and Bodie together, which (since it is not without great wrestling and moti­on) seemes to proue it selfe vehement and most ex­treme. The sences are the onely cause of paine, but before that last effect [Page 40]traries, that the worst cō ­posed Bodies feele paine least, and by this reason all sicke persons should not much feele paine, for if they were not euill com­posed they would not bee sicke.

That the sight, hearing, smelling, taste, leaue vs without paine, and vna­wares, wee know most cer­tainely, and why should wee not beleeue the same of the feeling? That which is capable of feeling is the vitall Spirits, which in a man of good health are spred & extended through the whole Body: And [Page 41]hence is it, that the whole body is capable of paine; but in sicke men wee see that by degrees those parts which are most remoued from the heart, remaine cold, and being denuded of naturall heate, all the pain that they feele, is that they can feele no paine: now as before the sicke be aware, the vitall Spirits re­tire themselues from the whole extension of his bo­dy, to assist the heart, (like distressed Citizens, which finding their wals battred run to defend their Citta­dell) so do they abandon the heart without any sen­sible [Page 42]touch, as the flame withdrawes it selfe from the wicke, the Oyle fay­ling. As to those shrink­ing motions and conuulsi­ons of sinewes and mem­bers, which appeare to wit­nesse great paine, let one represent to himselfe the strings of a high-tuned Lute, which being cracked retire to their naturall winding, or a piece of Ice which without any out­ward violence cracks at a Thaw: no other waies do the sinewes of the body, finding themselues slacke and vnbended from the Braine, and that their won­ted [Page 43]labours and functions do cease, struggle and seeme to stirre themselues without any paine or sence.

Now, although Death were an extreme paine, sith it is in an instant, what can it bee? Why should wee feare it? For while we are, it commeth not, and it being come, wee are no more. Nay, though it were most painefull, long continuing, and terrible vgly, why should we feare it? Since feare is a foolish passion but where it may preserue, but it cannot pre­serue vs from death. That [Page 44]is euer terrible, which is vnknown: so do little chil­dren feare to goe in the darke, and their feare is en­creased with tales.

But that (perhaps) which doth bring thee most an­guish, is to leaue this pain­ted Sceane of the World in the Spring, and most delicious season of thy yeeres; for, though to die be vsual, to die young may appeare extraordinary. If the present fruition of thes things be foolish, what can a long continuance of them be? Poore and strang Halcyon, why wouldest thou longer nestle amidst [Page 45]these inconstant waues? hast thou not already suf­fred enough of this world, but thou must yet endure more? But count thy yeres which are now () & thou shalt find, that whereas ten haue ouer-liued thee, thousands haue not attai­ned this age. One yeere is sufficient to behold all the magnificence of Na­ture, nay euen one day and night, for more is but the same brought againe.

This Sun, that Moone, those Starres, the disponsi­tion of the Spring, Sum­mer, Autumne, Winter, is that very same which the [Page 46]Golden age did see. They which haue the longest time lent them to liue in, haue almost nothing of it at all, setting it eyther by that which is past, when they were not, or by that which is to come: Why shouldst thou then regard, whether thy dayes be ma­ny or few; which when prolonged to the vtter­most, must proue (paraleld with Eternitie) as a Teare is to the Ocean? It is hope of long Life, that maketh life seeme short. Who will weigh, & aduisedly weigh the inconstancy of humane affaires, with the back-blows [Page 47]of Fortune, shall ne­uer lament to die yong. Who knoweth what dis­asters might haue befallen him, who dieth yong, if hee had liued to been old? Hauen taketh them whom it loueth, from dan­gers before they doe ap­proach; pure and (if wee may say so) virgin Soules carrie their bodies with great anguish, and delight not to abide long in them, being euer burnt with a desire to returne to the place of their rest; and to be relieued of fleshly vn­cleanlynesse, that which may fall forth euery houre, [Page 48]cannot fall out of time: life is a iourney in a dustie way, the furthest home is Death, in this, some goe more heauily burthened then others, swift & actiue Pilgrimes come to the end of it in the morning, or at Noone: which slow-paced wretches, clogged with the fragmentall rub­bish of this world, scarce with great trauell, crawle vnto at midnight. Dayes are not to be numbred af­ter the number of them; but after their goodnesse, the greatnes of a Spheare, addeth nothing to the roundnesse of it, but a lit­tle [Page 49]circle is as round as the most ample; that Musician is not most praise-worthie, who hath longest played, but he in measur'd accents who hath made sweetest melodie; to liue long, hath often beene a let to liue well. Let it suffice that thou hast liued to this time, and (after the course of this world) not for nought, thou hast had some smiles of Fortune, fauors of the worthiest, some friends, & thou hast neuer beene disfauoured of the Heauen.

Yet it is almost impossi­ble, that thou canst want a [Page 50]desire to liue, and wishest not thy dayes a while con­tinued, though not for life it selfe, at least that thou mayst leue to after-times a monument, that once thou wast; for since it is denied vs to liue long, (said one) let vs leaue some wor­thy remembrance of our once here being, and thus extend this spanne of Life so farre as is possible. O poore Ambition! to what I pray thee canst thou concreded it? Arches and stately Temples, which one age doth rayse, doth not another raze? Tombs and adopted pillers lie bu­ried [Page 51]with them which were in them buried; hath not auarice defaced that, which Deuotion did make glorious? All that the hand of Man can make, is eyther ouerturned by the hand of Man, or at length by very standing and con­tinuing consumed; as if there were a secret opposi­tion in Fate, to controle al our industrie. Possessions are not enduring, children lose their Names, fami­lies raised on the highest top of wealth and Honor (like those which are not yet born) leauing off to be, so doth Heauen confound [Page 52]what we labor with Art to distinguish. That renowne by Papers, which is though to make men glo­rious, and which neerest doth approach the Life of those eternall Bodies a­boue, how slender it is, the very word of paper doth import; and what is it when obtained, but a mul­titude of words which comming Worlds may scorne? How many mil­lions neuer heare the names of the most famous Writers? And amongst them to whom they are knowne, how few turne o­uer their pages? And of [Page 53]such as doe, how many sport at their conceits, ta­king the verity for a Fable, and oft a Fable for Veritie, or (as wee doe pleasants) vsing all for recreation? Then the arising of more famous doth obscure and darken the glory of the former, being esteemed as Garments worne out of fashion. Now when thou hast obtained what praise thou couldst desire, it is but an Eccho, a meere sound, a cloud of Ayre; which seene a farre, did appeare something, but approached, is found nought; a thing imaginary [Page 54]depending on the opinion of other Men; for it is hard to distinguish vertue and fortune, the most vicious (if prosperous) haue euer beene praysed, the most vertuous (if vnprosperous) haue still beene despised. Applause obtained whilst thou liuest, hath euer enuy following it, and is brit­tle, like that Syracusians Spheare of Glasse; and borne after thy Death, it may as well be ascribed to some of them that were in the Troian Horse, or to such as are yet to be borne an hundreth yeeres hereafter, as to thee who no­thing [Page 55]knows, and is of all vnknown: What can it a­uaile thee to bee talked of whilst thou art not? Con­sider in what bounds our Fame is confined: This Globe which seemeth large to vs, in respect of the Vniuerse, is lesse then little, how much thereof is coue­red with Waters, how much not at al discouered? How much desart and de­solate And how many thousand thousands are they which share the re­manent amongst them? & all this is but a point, & in comparison nothing to that wide wide canopie [Page 56]of Heauen. For the Hori­zon that bounds our sight, bindeth the Heauen as in two halfs, which it could not doe if the Earth had a­ny quantity compared to it. More, if it were not as a point, the Starres could not still appeare to vs of a like greatnesse in respect of their diurnall motion: for where the Earth raysed it selfe in Mountaines (wee being more neere to Hea­uen) they would appeare more great, and where it were humbled in vallies (we being farther distant) they would seeme vnto vs lesse.

But on all sides the Hea­uen beeing equally distant from the earth, of necessity wee must auouch it to bee but a point. Well did one compare it to an Ant-hill, and men (the Inhabitants) to so many Pismires in the toyle and variety of their diuersified studies. But let it be granted that Glo­ry and Fame is some great matter, and can reach Heauen it selfe, since it is often buried with the ho­nored, and endureth so short a time, what great good can it haue in it? How is not Glory tempo­rall, since it increaseth with [Page 58]Time? Then imagine me (for what cannot imagina­tion reach vnto?) one could bee famous in all times to come, & through the whole World presen, t yet he shall be for euer ob­scure, and vncouth to those mighty ones, who were only heretofore famous a­mongst Assyrians, Persians, Greekes, and Romanes. A­gaine, the vaine affectati­on of Man is so suppressed, that though his workes do abide, the worker is vn­knowne: the huge Aegyptt­an Pyramides though they haue wrastled with time, and worne vpon the vast [Page 59]of dayes, yet their builders be no more knowne, then it is known by what strāge Earth-quakes and Deluges Iles were diuided from the continent, and Hils burst­ed forth of the low Vallies. Dayes, Moneths, and yeres runne away, and only ob­liuion remaines; of so ma­ny ages past wee may well figure to our selues some­thing, but can affirme little certainty.

But, Oh my Soule, what ailes thee to be thus back­ward and fearefull at the remembrance of Death? sith it doth not reach thee, more then darknesse doth [Page 60]those eternall Lampes a­boue: rowse thy selfe for shame, why shouldst thou feare to bee without a bo­dy, since thy Maker and those spirituall and super­celestiall Inhabitants haue no Bodies? Hast thou e­uer seen any Prisoner who when the Iayle-gates were broken vp and hee enfran­chised and set loose, would rather plaine and sit still on his fetters, then seeke his freedome? If thou right­ly thinke on thy self thou hast no cause of sorrow: for, if there bee any resem­blance in what is finite of that which is infinite, if [Page 61]thou bee not an Image, thou art a shadow of that eternall Trinitie, in thy three essential Powers, Vn­derstanding Will, Memo­ry, which though three, are in thee but one: and yet a­biding one bee distinctly three. But in no thing more commest thou neere that Soueraigne good then in thy Immortality, which who seeke to improue, by that same it proue, like them who arguing them­selues to bee vnreasonable, by the very arguing shew that they haue some. No­thing in this visible world is comparable to thee, [Page 62] [...] [Page 63] [...] [Page 62]thou art so wonderfull a beauty, and beautifull a Wonder, that if but once thou couldst be gazed vp­on by bodily eyes, euery heart would be inflamed with thy loue, & eleuated frō their groueling earth­ly desires. What God is in the World, thou art in the body, abiding on the Earth, thou measurest the Heauen, thou makest the Seas and VVinds to serue thee, thou many things foreknowest before they fall forth, thou art not con­tent with the sight of all, within the spacious boūds of this large Cloister of [Page 63]the VVorld, vntill thou rayse thy selfe to the happy contemplation of that first illuminating intelligence, transcending time, and e­uen reaching Eternity it selfe, into which thou art transformed: for by re­ceiuing, thou (beyond all other things) art made that which thou receiuest. By thy three faculties, thou participatest with the three parts of Time; by Memo­ry with that which hath passed, by Vnderstanding with that which is present, & by VVil with that which is to come.

Man by thee is that Hy­men [Page 64]of celestiall and terre­striall things, without whom the vniuersall frame and great Fabrick of this world would remaine vn­perfect. Thou only at once art capable of contraries, thou knowest thy selfe an immediat master peece of that eternall artizan, & ac­knowledgest thee so sepa­rate, absolute, and diuerse an essence from thy Body, that thou disposest of it, as it pleaseth thee: for there is no passion in thee so weake which mastereth not the feare of leauing it. The more thou knowest, the more apt thou art to know, [Page 65]not remayning enfabled by thine object as sense by obiects sensible. Thou shouldst bee so farre from abhorring this separation, that it should be the first of thy desires, it being thy perfection. Thou art here but as in an infected and vncleane Inne, or a liuing Tombe, oppressed with cares, suppressed with ig­norance: Most of thy knowledge commeth by thy fine intelligencers of sence, which (being often deceiued) deceiue thee: small things seeme here great vnto thee, and great things small: Folly Wise­dome, [Page 66]and Wit Folly: freed of thy fleshly care thou shalt rightly know thy selfe, and haue perfect fruition of that full and fil­ling happinesse, which is God himselfe. God and happinesse are one, for if God haue not happinesse, hee is not God, because happinesse is the highest and soueraignest good: then if God haue happi­nesse, it cannot be a thing different from him, for if there were any thing diffe­rent from him in him, hee should be an essence com­posed, and not simple. More, what is different in [Page 67]any thing, is eyther an ac­cident, or a part of it selfe; in God, happinesse cannot be an accident, because he is not subiect to any acci­dent; if it were a part of him (since the part is be­fore the whole) wee should be forced to grant that something was before God. Bedded and ba­thed in these earthly Or­dures, thou canst not come neer that soueraigne good, nor haue so much notice of him, as the Owle hath of the Sun. Thinke then by Death that thy shel is broke & thou then but euē hatch­ed: VVhy shouldst thoube [Page 68]feare-stroken, and brought vnder for the parting with this mortall Bride, thy Bo­dy? Sith it is but for a time, and such a time as she shall not care for, nor feele any thing in, nor thou haue need of her, nay, since thou shalt receiue her a­gaine more goodly and beautifull, then when thou leftst her? Being made like vnto that Indian Christall, which after some reuoluti­ons of ages is turned into purest Diamonds.

If the Soule be the form of the Body, and the forme separated from the matter of it cānot euer remain, but [Page 69]hath a natural appetite and desire to bee vnited there­unto, what can let and hin­der this desire, but that one time or other it be accom­plished, and haue the ex­pected end, adioyning it selfe to the body? No vi­olent thing can bee euer­lasting, the abiding of the Soule without the body being violent, cannot bee euerlasting. How is not such a beeing not violent, since as in a stranger place the faculties of it (which neuer leaue it) are not due­ly exercised?: this is not contradictory to Nature, much lesse impossible to God.

If the body shall not a­rise, how can the only and soueraigne Good bee per­fectly and infinitely good? For how shall hee be Iust? Nay, haue so much iustice as a man, if hee suffer the euill and vicious to haue a more prosperous and hap­py life then the followers of Vertue? Which ordi­narily vseth to fall forth in this life: for the most wic­ked are lords and gods of this earth, as if it had been made only for them, and the vertuous are but their enuassaled slaues, beeing subiect to all dishonors, shames, wrongs, miserie. [Page 71]Sith then he is most good, most iust, of necessity there must be appointed by him another time, and another place of retribution, in the place of retribution, in the which there shall bee a re­ward for liuing well, and a punishment for doing euil, with a life in the which both shall haue their due; and not in their Soules on­ly: for, sith both the parts of man did act a part in the right or wrong, it is reason they both be arraigned be­fore that High Iustice, to receiue their owne. For man is not a Soule onely, but a Soule and Body, to which either guerdon or [Page 72]punishment is due.

This seemeth to bee the voice of Nature in almost all the Religions of the World, this is that vniuer­sall testimony charactered in the minds of the most barbarous and sauage peo­ple; for all haue had a blind ayming at ages to come, and a mistie diui­ning of another life, all ap­pealing to one generall Iudgement Throne. To what else could serue so many expiations, sacrifi­ces, Prayers, solemnities and ceremonies? To what such sumptuous Temples, and such care of the dead? [Page 73]To what all Religion? If not to shew that they did looke for a more excellent estate of liuing after the short course of this was out-runne: and who doth deny it, must deny that that there is a God, a Pro­uidence, and not beleeue that there is a World or Creatures, and that hee himselfe is not what hee is.

But it is not of Death (perhaps) that wee com­plaine, but of Time, which vsing against vs (as a­gainst all fragil and caduke things) his adamantine [Page 74]Lawes, altereth the consti­tution of our Bodies, be­nummes our sences, and the Organes of our know­ledge, of which euils Death relieueth vs: So that if we could be transported (oh happy Colonie!) to a place where there were no time, it were our only good, and the accomplishment of all our wishes. Death maketh this transplantation, for the last instant of corruption, or leauing off of a thing to be what it was, is the first of generation or being of that which succeedeth; Death then beeing the end of this miserable mortall [Page 75]life, of necessity must bee the first beginning of that other eternall; and so with­out reason of a vertuous Soule is it either feared or complained on.

As those Images were figured in my Mind, (the morning-Star now almost arising in the East) I found my thoughts to become calme and appeased, and not long after my sences one by one forgetting their vses, began to giue themselues ouer to rest, leauing mee in a still and quiet sleepe, if sleep it may be called, where the Mind [Page 76] [...] [Page 77] [...] [Page 76]awaking is carried with free wings frō out fleshly bondage? For, heauy lids had no sooner couered their lights, when I thoght (nay sure) I was where I might discerne all in this great All, the large compas of the rowling Circles, the brightnesse and continuall dances of the twinkling Starres, which (through their distance) here below cannot bee perceiued, the siluer countenance of the silent Moone shining by a­nothers light, the hanging of the Earth (as enuironed with a Christall girdle) the Sunne enthronized in the [Page 77]midst of the Planets, Eye of the Heauens, Gemme of this goodly Ring the World. But whilst with wonder and amazement I gazed on those celestiall twinnes, and the burning Lamps of that glorious Temple, (like some poore Countrey-man brought from his solitary Moun­taines and flocks to behold the magnificence of some stately City) there was pre­sented to my sight a Man as in the spring of his yeres, with that selfesame grace, comely feature, and maiesticke looke, which the late ( [...] ) was wont [Page 78]to haue: on whom I had no sooner set mine eye, when (like one thunder­stroken) I became all asto­nished. But hee with a mild demeanour appro­ching, and voice surpas­sing all humane sweete­nesse appeared (mee thought) to say:

What is it doth thus torture thee? is it the me­mory of Death, the end of all Sorrow and entrie to these happy places? is thy fortune below on that dar­kened Globe (that scarce through the littlenesse of it heere appeares) so great, [Page 79]that thou art heart-broken and deiected for the lea­uing of it? what if thou hadst left behind thee a ( [...] ) so glorious to the world (yet but a mote of dust encircled with a Pond) as that of mine? so louing Parents? such great Hopes? these had beene apparant occasions of re­grate, and but apparant. Dost thou thinke that thou leauest life too soone? Death is best yong, things faire and excellent are of least endurance, the Rose which is the flowre of flowers, that same day that sees it spred in the mor­ning, [Page 80]sees it fade at eue­ning, and lose the leaues, the Spring-time the most amiable Season of the yeere is the Shortest. Who liueth well, liueth long, those whom GOD loueth best, are soone re­lieued of mortall miseries.

Let not man esteeme his estate, after his earthly being, which is but a Dreame, though hee bee borne on the earth, hee is not borne for the earth, more then the embrion for the Mothers wombe: it plaineth to bee relieued of its Bands, and to come [Page 81]to the light of this world, and Man mourneth to bee loosed from the Chaines with which he is fettered in that inchanted valley of vanities, it nothing know­eth whither it is to goe, nor ought of the beauty of the sensible world, and the vi­sible workes of God, nei­ther doe men of the mag­nificence of this intellectu­all world aboue, vnto which (as by a Mid-wife) they are directed by Death.

Fooles, who thinke that this excellent and admira­ble Frame, so wel ordered, so rightly gouerned, so [Page 82]wonderfully faire, was by that supreme Wisedome made, that all things in a circulary course should be and not bee, arise and dis­solue, and thus continue, as if they were so many Shadowes caused by the incountring of the Superi­or Celestiall bodies, chan­ging only their fashion and shape; or were dreames which for a morning haue their being in the braine: No, no, the eternall Wise­dome hath made man an excellent creature, though hee faine would vnmake himselfe and turne againe to nothing, though hee [Page 83]seeke his happinesse a­mongst the vnreasonable creatures hee hath placed aboue.

When some Prince or great King on the earth hath builded any stately City, the worke being per­fected, they were wont to set their Image in the mid­dest of it, to be gazed vpon and admired; No other­wise hath the Soueraine of this All, (the fabricke of it done) placed Man, (made to his own Image) in the midst of this admi­rable City. God contay­neth all in him as the be­ginning of al, Man contai­neth [Page 84]al in him as the midst of all, inferior things be in man more nobly then they exist, superior things more basely, celestiall things fa­uour him, earthly things are vassaled vnto him, hee is the band of [...]oth, ney­ther is it possible but that both of them haue peace with him, if he haue peace with him who made the couenant betweene them and him.

Hee was made, that hee might know the infinite goodnesse, power, and glo­ry of him who made him, and knowing loue, and lo­uing enioy him, and to [Page 85]hold the Earth of him as of his Lord Paramount.

How can it bee thought that God should giue so long life to Trees, Beasts, and the Birds of the Ayre, being Creatures inferior to Man, which haue lesse vse of it, and denie it to him, vnlesse hee had pre­pared another manner of liuing for him in a place more excellent?

But O God! (said I) had it not been better that for the good of his natiue Countrey so ( [...] ) had yet liued? How long will ye (replied he) like the [Page 86]Ants thinke there bee no fayrer palaces then their hills, and like poreblinde Moles there is no greater light, then that little which they shunne? As if the master of a Campe knew when to remoue a Senti­nell, and hee who placeth Man on this Earth, did not know how long he had neede of him? Euery one commeth here to act his part of this Tragicomedie called Life, which done, the Curtaine is drawne, and he remouing from the Stage is said to die.

Most ( [...] ) then (an­swered [Page 87]I) Death is not such an euill and paine, as it is of the vulgar esteemed? Death (said he) nor paine­full is nor euill of it selfe, except in contemplation of the cause of it, being as indifferent as birth: Yet it cannot be denied, but that the vncouthnesse of it, with the wrong apprehension of what is vnknowne in it is noysome. But the Soule sustained by its Maker, prepared and calmely re­tired in it selfe, doth finde that Death (since it is in a moment of time) is but a short, nay sweete sigh, and is not worthy the remem­brance [Page 88]compared with the smallest dramme of the in­finite happinesse of this place.

Here is the Palace roy all of the Almighty King, in which the incompre­hensible comprehensibly manifesteth himselfe; in place highest, in substance not subiect to any corrup­tion or change, for it is a­boue all motion, and solid turneth not; in quantitie greatest, for if one Starre, one Spheare bee so vast, how vast, how great must those bounds bee which doth them all containe? In [Page 89]qualitie purest, Heauen here is all but a Sunne, or the Sunne all but a Hea­uen, this is the onely and true Olympe.

If to earthlings the foot­stoole of God seemeth so pleasant, of what worth (if they could see) would they hold his Throne? And if the Throne bee so wonder­ful, what is the sight of him for whom and by whom this All was created? Of whose glory to behold the thousand thousand part, the most pure intelligen­ces are fully content, and with wonder and delight [Page 90]stand amazed; for the beauty of his light and the light of his beautie is in­comprehensible.

Here doth that earnest appetite of the vnderstan­ding pause it selfe, not see­king to know any more, for it seeth before it in the visi­on of the diuine essence (a mirror in the which not I­mages or shadows, but the true and perfect essence of all that is, is most viuely and perfectly seen) all that can be knowne, or vnder­stood.

Here is the will stayed, [Page 91]louing that Soueraigne Good in whose fruition all good consisteth, and with­out which can be none.

Here is a blessed com­pany, euery one reioycing in another and filled with ioy of themselues, the hap­pinesse of one is the hap­pinesse of the whole, as the happines of the whole is the happinesse of euery one: and as the company is innumerable, the ioy of each one is incomprehen­sible.

No silly Mortall confi­ned on that piece of earth, [Page 92]who hath neuer seene but sorrow, can rightly thinke of, or bee capable to con­ceiue the happinesse of this place.

So many feathers moue not on Birds, so many Birds cleaue not the Ayre, so many leaues tremble not on Trees, so many Trees grow not in the wilde Forrests, so many waues turne not in the O­cean, so many Sands bor­der not those waues; as this Triumphing Court hath varietie of delights, and neuer loathsome plea­sures.

Ambition, Disdaine, Malice, Ignorance, Error, Difference of opinions, doe not enter this place, resembling the foggie mists which couer those lists of sublunary things.

Here is Youth without Age, Strength without Weakenesse, Ioy without Sorrow, Light without Darkenesse, Life Without End, Ages doe neuer here expire, Time did neuer enter.

All pleasure paragon'd with what is here, is griefe, all Mirth mourning, all [Page 94]Beauty deformitie, heere one dayes abiding is a­boue the continuing in the most Fortunate estate of the Earth many yeeres, and sufficient to counter­uaile the extremest Tor­ments of Life.

Amongst all the won­ders of the great Creator, not one appeareth to bee more strange (replied I) then that the dead should arise, Nature deny­ing a regresse from priuati­on to a habit.

Wonders (said hee) in a wonderfull cause are no [Page 95]wonders, the Author of Nature is not thralled to the Lawes of Nature, but worketh with them or con­trary as it pleaseth him, vn­to whom nothing peri­sheth.

This world is as a Cabi­net, in which the small things (though hid) are nothing lesse kept then the great. To him who in an instant brought all this All from nought, to bring againe in an instant any thing that euer was in it to what it was once, should not be thought impossible: Where the power is with­out [Page 96]limitation, the worke hath no other limitation then the workers Will; Reason her selfe finds it more possible for infinite power to deliuer from it selfe a finit World, and restore any thing in this world to what it was first, though decayed and dis­solued, then for a finit man, to change the forme of matter made to his hand.

The power of God ne­uer brought to knowledge all that it can, for then were his infinit power bounded and finite.

That time doth ap­proach in which the dead shall liue, and the liuing bee changed, and of all actions the guerdon is at hand; then shall there bee an End without an End, Time shall finish, and Place bee altered, and another World of an age Eternall and vn­changeable shall arise: With the which (mee thought) hee vani­shed, and I did all astonished a­wake.