ANNIVERSSARIES UPON HIS PANARETE; CONTINUED: With her CONTEMPLATIONS, penned in the languishing time of her Sickness. The second Years ANNIVERS. Et novus iste novo dolor astuat ortus ab anno. LONDON, Imprinted by Felix Kyngston, and are to be sold by Robert Bostock, at the King's head in Paul's Churchyard. 1635. Anniverssaries The second Years ANNIVERS. upon his PANARETE, continued. LAst year I wrote of my dear PANARET, To pay my dearest Deer her duest debt; But who is He knew her and knoweth not How many things I in my Threnes forgot, Which should have been expressed? but such as we Who share in griefs, fall short in memory. This to supply with teare-distilling eye, Still to one Task I must myself apply; For we an Anniversall mean to rear In honour of her virtues every year: Where though our Pencyle cannot well set forth The riches of her goodness and true worth, It shall appear we have desire to do it, By th' ceremonious zeal we bear unto it. FIRST, — lachrymisque revisimus umbras. in my weekly visit to her shrine, I bathe those corpse with tears which once were mine; Once mine, now Earth's: Nor do I, trust me, stay In any superstitious sort to pray For her reposed Soul, which being at rest, My Prayer would seem superfluous at best: Ye●, I s●ould injure her, whose boundless bliss Is such, none can be happier than she is. Yet give me leave to eye her scattered dust, Which in the resurrection of the just Shall be united to her better part, And reunited never to depart One from another, but must jointly share ●n those choice comforts which eternal are. O Earth, Earth, Earth! O triple style of man! Earth, for from Earth his first beginning came; Earth by affection too, because, heavens know, What we should hate, we're most affected to; ●arth by his dissolution, since he must return from whence he came, his mother dust. Dear Dust! whose small●st atoms shall not be trained through the Crevet of my memory without religious reverence! I will give ●hese precious grains for relics while I live To such as honour her, whose virtuous fame Before all Monuments, preserves her name. In my diurnal sorrows, I do muse Discoursing, as I many times do use, Of this unequalled Subject, Et lach●ymasse juvat▪— those that hear My Scenes of grief, should not afford a tear To every accent: every trifling toy Sprung from the ashes of consumed Troy Can force distreaming passion, though this woe, This feigned woe, were many years ago: Yet in that great destruction show me one, Whose loss might really exact our moan By her exemplar virtues, as this did, Or ever strove to have her worth more hid. Some were held fair, but they were vicious; Others deformed, though they were virtuous: Scarce one of that pure temper should we find, Where beauty vy'de with graces of the mind: But Mine was fair and good, chaste, choice and free In all, save what she had engaged to me; A sacred-secret gage, which I still keep▪ In lieu of Her, who now is fall'n asleep. A Model of her feature yet I have, Et meminisse juvat. Which I will carry with me to my Grave▪ And this in private am I wont to eye, And view't from top to toe, than set it by, Then take it up again to feed my sight, Which cheers, but cannot cloy mine appetite. Sometimes opinion does delude conceit, And makes me think She he's dispensed with fate, While sweet stolen blushes from her Cheeks appears Mixed with th' elixir of pure Amber tears, Which with a careful hand I wipe the while, And she requires me with a winning smile. But what are these, but fancies that are bred From the distempers of a troubled head? heavens bliss me! now, how melancholy seem Those shady walks, and that Olympic Greene Where nimble youths their exercises did, And yearly for her sake solemnised? With what enwreathing would my Love and I T' encourage young endeavours there stand by, While with a modest smile she'd deign to grace The blessed Spectators of that happy place? Blessed by her presence! for I freely vow, Nought but was graceful what she deigned to do. Oft have I seen her from her Dairy come Attended by her Maids, and hasting home To entertain some Guests of quality, She would assume a State so modestly Sans affectation, as she struck the eye▪ With admiration of the Slander by: That He who saw her from the Dairy pass ☜ Would scarce believe her for the same She was. So well She could upon the selfsame day Both Ci●ile Courtier and the Housewife play. But to survey the passage of her life, With Offices belonging to a wife, A modest Ma●ron, and a Courtly Bride, Dispenser of a Family beside, Hear but a little wha●● I shall relate; And you may find one fit to imitate In th'posture of all goodness! which may give Example unto others how to live. Draw hither then, ye Formalists of th'age, Who make your life a Progress to a Stage, Your Chambers Tyring-houses, where to pray Were such a tedious task, as you delay To take acquaintance of it; or decline Your thoughts from heaven, because you have no time For such reserved vows: no more you have, Nor can you dainty-Ducks a moment say. For all your precious Morning-houres are given For you to paint and deck you till eleven; And then an hour or two must be the least To jeer your foolish Lover, or to feast, Or court your amorous ●●inging Favourite With a bare-bathed breast to feed delight, And purchase more Spectators:— but time's lost Till a Play-bill be severed from the Post T'inform you what's to play; then comes your Coach, Where numerous light-ones, like yourself approach. But where's Devotion all this while? asleep, And for herself sole-Centinall may keep. But now you're seated, and the Music sound For th' Actor's entry; pleasures do abound In every Box; sometimes your eye's on th' Stage, Straight on a lighter Object, your loose Page, Or some fantastic Gallant, or your Groom, But when this Emblem of your life is done, This piece of witty art, what do you then? To your sinne-shrouding Coaches straight again You make repair, where you relate●● be Of what your Ear did hear, or Eye could see▪ Then to a luscious Supper, after this To a rear banquet, or to some acquaint dish To move a sensual slumber, and delight But never sat your boundless appetite. Thus you in painted joys misspend your days More to your Suitors than your Maker's praise. But think not, Fair Ones, that I am too bitter, For I do hold no Recreation fitter Than Moral Interludes; but have a care You do not make them too familiar; For that were to invert a Recreation, And by day-practice make it a Vocation: Though Some have writ that I do hate a Scene, Their judgements err, nor know they what I mean; I'm no Stage-Stinger, nor will ever be, But do prefer a pleasant Comedy Before a Tavern, where so many sit To drench down care without a drop of wit. But see th' effect of grief! how glad would I To any forced Digression rather fly Than to our tear-swollen Subject, where relief Hath made itself a Stranger to our grief? But now I haste to thee, my Dearest Deer, To show what precious treasures stored were In thy religious bosom: nor shall love 'Cause me speak more than I can duly prove. FIRST, Education of her Children. for her nursing care; She held no stat● Fitter for Mothers than to educate Those they brought forth, and make their life a line To teach their children how to spend their time▪ And this she did; for even her Nursery Appeared a private School of industry, Where th' Elder taught and tasked the younger sort, As th'Mother taught the Elder; none fell short In their Endeavours: but if so they did, They were by Her so sweetly chastised, (And rare is such discretion to be known) Both Love and awe were folded in her frown, Yea, such a lovely reverence did attend her, They'd rather be corrected than offend her. But no delicious fare could she endure Her Children to be used to, but enure Their youth to timely Moderation now T' enable them when they should riper grow. For she was wont to say," When God shall call " On us, Heaven knows in whose hands they may fall▪ " Let's then so breed them as may best become them, " And to endure whatsoever may fall upon them. With wholesome temperate diet she'd supply The luscious fruits of Mother's vanity. Observe this, Mothers, for'tis unto you I speak, who so much delicacy show To your too tender offspring, and like th' Ape, Annoyed them most of whom you most do make. Where be these native Arguments of love Which you express? Or, wherein do you prove Yourselves true Mothers? none can gather this From pleasing of your Younglings with a kiss, Or indiscreetest dandling on your knee, Or cockering them with your indulgency, That you are natural Mothers, unless we By natural mean foolish; so't may be You may be tender Ones, I'll not deny, Who, when they put their finger in the eye For such a foreign Fashion, or a Feather, Rather than grieve them you'll deny them neither, But cloth them in their folly: but are these Expressions of parental Offices? Oh no; while you are thus indulgent to them, Through too much love you utterly undo them. For when they are attired gorgeously, Their formal habits crave more liberty; Their eyes must have new Objects, which impart Secrets of love unto a wanton heart. Dinah must roam abroad, but ten to one She looseth honour ere she visit home. Prevent this, modest Matrons, let no stain Impeach their youth; vessels, you know, retain A taste of their first liquor; season them With that at first which may accomplish them. All this my Dear One did, and so must ye That hope to live in your posterity. NEXT, Government of her Family. Fame rears to her Name a monument For house-affairs and private Government, While her well-guided Family might seem A Pattern unto others to demean Their actions by; since all desires were bend To close in one harmonious consent. No spleenful Wasp might lodge within her roof, All discontented Spirits stood aloof. With willing care her pleasure all attend, Fearing n●ught more than that they should offend▪ For she with mildness did her Servants win▪ 〈◊〉 to her Sweetening th' endeavours they were busied in▪ Yea, so much had her candid nature won, They Evening joyed ith'Day-works they had done.▪ How far swerve ye from th' Pattern instanced here, Who o'er your Servants use to domineer, As if they were your Slaves? which is no way To make your people cheerfully obey. ●his but begets Eye-service at the best, ●nd makes an Holiday when you're at rest. Others there be, who have occasion ●ought ●o beat their Servants, though it were for nought, Like Vedio, who for breaking of a glass Would drown his Page: let such Examples pass Unworthy your Observance: better far, And to discretion far more regular, To imitate Architas, who in's field Finding his Servant loyt'ring, would not yield Forthwith to Passion, but entreats him thus, Which may be presidentall unto us: " Sure I would beat thee, were I not in anger, " But that secures thee for this time from danger. But other virtues now I hasten to, Which did my late endeared Spouse endow. NEXT, to the Love she to her Neighbour's Love to her Neighbours. bar●● Than which no Creature ever had more share; Were they infirm, she would not nicely stand, But to their griefs apply her helping hand, And dress their wounds herself, for she was rare Both for her happy cure and holy care. Herbals she'd read, but timorous to err, With men of choice Experience she'd confer, Which so enabled her, as she was still By doing good, improving of her skill. Not like blind Herbists, whereof there be store, Who have but one bare cure for every sore: These, if they kill, they kill, and if they cure, Th' effect is far above their reason sure▪ Now, to the last not least, for it is this Which gives us speedy Convoy unto bliss; And that was, Hospitality to Strangers. Stranger's Hospitality: Where her Provision ever would supply Their necessary wants; nor all her tim● (Wherein her thoughts did ever close with mine) Would she avert her ear from any one Who sor●eliefe did to her Portell come. Her Cruse was ever open to the poor, Calling them Scholars of our Saviour: If they were old, or feebly impotent, An Alms with more bounty might be sent. No Stranger ere did to her gate repair Confined to anguish, or surprised with care, She would not comfort, and with dropping eye Afford compassion to their misery. None hungry but she'd feed; no thirsty wretch But she'd refresh; Nor naked but she'd fetch Garments to cover them. How far be ye From these expressive Acts of Charity, Who fed with Amber broths, delicious fare, Have of your starved Sisters little care? Their rags are your contempt; their shre●kes & crier Are bolted from your Ears, fanned from your eyes. But how should you take pity of these Elves, Who have no greater pity on yourselves? How should you cover them whom Colds molest, Who will not cover your loose-bared Breast In sharpest airs, but rather starve your skin, Than shrowded th' coccasion of alluring sin? O do not so; let gracious thoughts appear To mould you to that Pattern you have here. But I must leave; He clozeth this second Anniversary, as a votive Sacrifice to her memory. but never leave to love My glorious Saint, which now is sphered above; Who, if she deign t' accept this Sacrifice Dipped in a throbbing heart, and streaming eyes, I've got my Goal, and she a treble rest, In Heaven, in Earth, and in my naked breast. When Just ones die, than they to live begin, " They live to Si●n, when they die to Sin. FINIS. THE DISTINT TITLES OF THESE CONTEMPLATIONS. 1. The Souls Sole-Love. 2. The Wounded Heart. 3. The New Dress. WITH LOVES LEGACY, OR, PANARETES Blessing to her Children. Contemplations of PANARETE, penned in the languishing time of her Sickness. The Souls Sole-Love. CONTEMPLATION I. THou hast, my dear Soul, engaged thy faith: Thou hast betaken thyself to thine heavenly Spouse. A divided Heart cannot live; how shouldst thou live without thy Sole-love? Adulterine Colours cannot hold; nor adulterate affections retain their colour. ●ezabels feature was more beholden to Art than Nature. Such is the complexion of that love, which makes lust her lure: vain is such a tincture, that makes a servi●e desire her applyer. Maiden honour consists not in formality: There is ever something more real in it. Flourishes are but printed blossoms: they may work upon the outward sense, they cannot captivate the Reason. The inward beauty is of more extent than any outward varnish. Thou hast reason, O my Soul, to preserve that, which solely makes thee graceful to thy Spouse. Conceit nothing seemly, but what may beseem him that made thee. Thou art not made for a slavish fancy; thou hast one sole-love, to cleave to another, were a frency. Affection is no Tennis-Ball, for struck into another's hazard, it is lost. One Sun cannot shine in two spheres; nor one sphere contain two Suns. The Sun of Righteousness is the Sphere of my Soul: she is a Planet, when she shines elsewhere. Grace's are divine beamelins, the inward house is dark without them: and these shine most, when least interposed with any earthly clouds. What is it (O my Soul) to sparkle like a Glow-worm by night, or like rotten wood to send forth a deceiving splendour? What is it, with a gloss of dissembled purity to take the eyes or ears of erring judgements? Thou hast within thee to witness for thee, or condemn thee. Then, even then, my soul, when the great Book shall be opened, the secret Cabinet of thy retiredst thought unlocked, and no subterfuge for guilt admitted: thou shalt find, that good works must pass for ill, being not done well. The intention than must crown the action. Alms with a trumpet, Fasting with a dejected countenance, Praying and Tithing with a Pharisaical affiance, must have no acceptance. Be thy discipline never so severe, if it be not sincere, it receives no reward. Honour must not be thine harbour, if devout intentions Crown not thy labour. Reflect on thy sweet Spouse, and meditate of his Pilgrimage on earth. He offered his childhood to a Cratch, his youth to Care, his Manhood to the Crosse. He entered the world naked, He lived in it despised, & went from it with sorrows burdened. There was nothing so grievous which was not with patience suffered by him, to make thee gracious in His sight who sent him. Shall a little Cloud then change thy countenance? Shall a minutes distaste amate thee, or make t●ee forgetful of his sufferings, who subjected himself to death for thee? Who ever enjoyed a sweeter Spouse? He confirmed his love with the loss of his life: and shall every small cross in this life divide thee from his love? Behold and see (saith thy dis-passionate Spouse) if there were ever Sorrow like to my Sorrow! No, my Sole-Love, needs must thy Sorrow be great, when with the offering up of thine own precious life, thou couldst hardly gain any love. The Rocks were dissolved, the Temple divided, the Graves opened, the Heavens darkened, all the Elements suffered, yet Man, for whom thou became Man, and died, became most hardened. Lost wert thou, O my Soul, and eternally lost; and to regain thee, He lost his own life: Such were those Adamantine ties of his immutable love. Many sheep he had, and those he left, to seek thee lost: so plenteously did those roseate Torrents of his sacred compassion flow, to wash away those crimson-dyed sins, which had left that dying tincture in thy wounded Soul. How often hath he sought to gather thee, and thou wouldst not? to espouse thee to himself, and thou assented not? to bring thee to his Marriage-feast, & thou attended not? Mean time, when thou sawest a Thief, thou run with him, and with the Inordinate divided thy portion; both which with the cords of iniquity drew thee headlong to perdition. Conceivest thou yet no compassion of thine unhappy condition? shall not one poor tear witness thy contrition? Wilt thou become of thy wounds so altogether unsensible, as by thy want of sense to make them uncurable? Run to the Rock, and quenc● thy thirst with those living streame● which flow from it. Apply thy mouth to the hole of the pipe, that thou mais● be refreshed. Beg of Him water, who shed for thee water and blood. Dry eyes will not bring thee to heaven Sin is of such a deep stain, as true penitential tears are of only forc● to take away that die. Thou seest th● Turtle how she mourneth for the loss● of her Mate. The desert becomes he● Recluse, consorrshe will not with any fearing to forget the occasion of he● misery. Browse she will not, nor res● nor roost on any green Branch Grieves are her inseparable Companions; other Consorts she admits not because they suit not with her condition. Contemplate these, O my soul▪ and reflect upon thyself. Let thine eyes be estranged from sleep. Let sighs and groans be thy food. Water thy Couch with incessant rivers of tears. Great sins require great sighs; perilous sores precious salves. Consider poor Soul, where thou art placed; with what innumerable dangers enclosed; again, how those which were given thee for defence, are most ready to betray thee to thine enemy. Again, reflect upon the benignity of thy good God; who, if he had been as ready to punish thee for thy ●inne, as thou hast been to commit sin, had long since drenched thee down into that bottomless pit of eternal bitterness. Death had been thy due; and Hell thy Portion. And canst thou now look upon thyself without loathing; or consider thy woeful estate without trembling? Was ever any one more bound to his Maker; and less thankful? More watered with the sweet influence of his grace; and less fruitful? In no place couldst thou promise to thyself p●ace; within fears, without fights. Yet have the wings of the Almighty been so graciously spread over thee; as neither fear could oppress thee at home, nor fury surprise thee abroad. And this was His work, who hath so constantly loved thee, as He would never leave thee. For whensoever thou wandered, he recalled thee: when ignorant, he taught thee: when thougsinned, he corrected thee: when sad, he comforted thee: when desperate, he supported thee: when fall'n, he raised thee: when standing, he held thee: when walking, he guided thee: when returning, he received thee: when sleeping, he kept thee: when crying, he heard thee. What wilt thou render then, O my Soul, to Him, who hath done such wonderful things for thee? Wilt thou stay in the Marketplace idling? Wilt thou address thyself to no employment in thy calling? Is it enough for thee to retain the style of a Christian, & presuming upon that style, to corrupt the state of a Christian? Wilt thou make thy whole life an Holiday; and by thy profane conversation close it up with a fearful day? Wilt thou not yet after so many sweet invitations, to allure thee? So many sharp comminations, to deter thee? Such gentle touches on thy right hand and on thy left, break these bonds of thy Transgressions, and return to that overflowing fountain of divine compassions? It is fearful, thou know'st, to fall into the hands of the Lord. For who is he in all the world, so just, that he may with confidence presume to be saved, if God's mercy (the sole Salve of humane misery) be from him removed? Yea, know, O my Soul, that thy justice consists in God's indulgence, who hath an Ear open for thee, if thou cry unto him; an arm to embrace thee, if thou fly unto him; an heart to receive thee, if thou return unto him; an hand to succour thee, if thou come to him; a wing to cover thee, if thou cleave to him. And wilt thou still feed on the husks of vanity, and despise those delicious cates of eternity? Shall one poor moment of vading pleasure deprive thee of those joys which last for ever? By enjoying thy Spouse, thou enjoyest all things: his presence will be meat to thee hungering; drink to thee thirsting; health to thee languishing; way to thee wand'ring; light to thee erring; life to thee dying. Be he then to thee all things, seeing without him all things are nothing. All things are vanity, save only to please God and serve him: And s●ch a Service is a Christian Solace; without which, as all things are vanity, so man of all others, the lightest vanity: How canst thou then be at peace without him, since he only in the bond of peace unites all that are espoused unto him? If man love man with such affection, as the one scarce suffers the other to be absent: if a Spouse to her Spouse be joined with such ardour of mind, as through the excess of her love she can take no rest, brooking the absence of her beloved not without great sorrow: then with what affection, with what desire, with what fervorous devotion oughtest thou, O my Soul, whom thy best Spouse hath espoused to himself in faith and mercy, to love Him thy true God, and most beautiful Spouse, who hath so loved and saved thee; who hath done so many, so great & exceeding things for thee? Why stayest thou (O my Soul?) findest thou aught here worthy of thy Love? Wilt thou ever to thy bane, be ●ibbling at the bait of vanity? Hast thou not found much bitterness in these deceiving shadows of humane happiness? Have not thy delights been most crossed, wherein they looked to be most cheered? Yea, when thou enjoyed thy delights to the full, had they not ever bitterness in their farewell. Take a short Survey of the dries of thy vanity, and see what day in all thy Pilgrimage hath been so propitious, as it was not encountered with some discontents! Hath not a merry Evening made an heavy Morning? Nor a glad going out, a sad returning? Didst hear no report of a private foe; nor no death of a constant friend? Were thy affairs so well carried, as nothing miscarried? And admit all this; how long did this Calm continue? Had this forward Spring no nip? If not, then so much more unhappy, in being ever so seeming happy. The Saints and Servants of God do in this world more fear prosperity than adversity: for that, the height of prosperity is in danger more to press them, than the weight of adversity to depress them. These through many tribulations passed; and passing profited; and profiting prevailed; and prevailing were victoriously crowned. If the Devil be dead, then are persecutions dead: but so long as our Adversary lives, canst thou think that he will not suggest to thee tentations? The enemy ceaseth not, dyeth not, but in the Resurrection of the dead. Short is the fight, but great is the victory. Learn then from that vessel of Election, to rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Rom. 5. And not only so, but to glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience: and Patience experience: and experience hope: and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts, by the holy Ghost, which is given unto us. O divine gradation! O gracious consolation! If thine heart then be right, O my Soul, whatsoever shall befall thee, thou wilt rejoice in it for his sake who sent it thee; and conclude with that Pattern of Patience: Job 1. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the Name of the Lord. Pitch upon this resolve, O my Soul, and thy sweet Spouse will stay thee with flagons, Cant. 2. comfort thee with apples. Nothing shall separate thee from the love of Christ. Neither tribulation, Rom. 8. nor distress, nor persecution, nor famine, nor nakedness, nor peril, nor sword. For, 1 Pet. 3. who is he that will harm thee, if thou be follower of that which is good? Betake thyself then to thy Bel●ved Spouse, and he will give thee thine hearts desire. None can take thee forth of his hand, nor divide thee from his heart. The delights and riches of an heaven-ravished Spirit, are divine Songs, where tears are not without joy, nor sighs without comfort. Now, my good jesus, if it be so sweet to weep for thee, how sweet will it be to rejoice with thee? Whatsoever then I shall feel, by the presence & assistance of thy grace, I will not fail to give thee thanks in my suffering, equally as in my rejoicing: For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time, Rom. 8. are not worthy to ●e compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. To confirm this resolve, and inflame thy desires, retain the memory of his presence ever with thee, who gave himself for thee. Let thy Conversation be in heaven, during this thy Pilgrim-reside on Earth. So delight thee in him, as no delight may take thee from him. Then mayst thou freely say, Cant. 2. My beloved is mine, and I am his: He feedeth among the Lilies: among the Lilies of Chastity, borders of Sanctity: Follow thy Love with chaste thoughts, and thou shalt live with him in glory. The Wounded Heart. CONTEMPLATION II. SHall the Har● long after the water brooks, when he is with thirst annoyed? or fly to the Herb to cure him, when he is wounded? And shall my thirsty Heart (the princely sea● of my mind) never fly to those living streams of ever-flowing waters? Sick she is, and heartsick, and will she never repair to her best Physician: in whose heart is a fatherly care, and in whose hand a speedy cure? Will she never taste of that Herb of grace, to eas● her griefs, cure her wounds, and restore her decayed Spirits? Whence is it, O my benumbed heart, that thou are become so insensible of thine own misery, as thus to make thy wounds incurable through thy security? Why dost thou not cry out in the bitterness of thy Soul, with that afflicted Patient, and memorable Mirror of patience: Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, Job 3. and life to the bitter in Soul? For thus by meditating of thy griffes, thou wouldst sooner labour for relief, and seasonably partake of comfort after thy long affliction: For who can search into the Source of thy Sorrows, or know the depth of thy griefs or joys, unless thyself discover them? The Heart knoweth his own bitterness: Prov. 14. and a Stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy. The way to cure thy wounds, is to open them; The way to ease thy Heart, is to discover the sorrows of it. Shouldst thou with that Sacred and Elect vessel, be pressed (and happy thou if so afflicted) out of measure, ● Co●. ●. above strength, insomuch as thou shouldst despair of life, call but upon the Lord, and he will deliver thee. For he, and only he, can heal the broken spirit; comfort the contrite Soul, and make the bones which he hath broken to rejoice. For he it is, who is the hope of the desperate, the comfort of the desolate. Weep he cannot, who is so solaced; fail he shall not, who is so succoured. Apply thyself then to him (O my wounded heart) and repose thee in his wounds, for they are full of compassion; rely on his promises, for they sound nothing but consolation. Shouldst thou (o my languishing heart) be driven to that extremity, as thou couldst find no comfort within thee; no hope of relief without thee; nothing but clouds of heaviness to encompass thee; none but jobs Messengers to encounter thee: shouldst thou roar forth in the bitterness of thy soul: How long wilt thou not depart from me? (how long wilt thou thus afflict me? nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle? Yea, Jo● 7. should thy belly tremble: thy lips quiver at his voice: should rottenness enter into thy bones, Habac. 3. and thy strength fail: yet would the hand of the Almighty, by disclaiming thine own power, and flying to his mercy, so support thee as thou shouldst not fall. But thou art wounded, o mine heart, and o I wish that thou wert sensibly wounded! Mean time, let the desires of thy roaring intrals beat at the gate of his Compassions. Let the cries of the tears of thine eyes, poured forth with fervour of affection, pierce the clouds, and seal to thy numerous sins a gracious remission. O that thou wert so pure, that thy dear and loving Spouse would say unto thee: Thou hast ravished my heart, Cant. 4. my Sister, my Spouse: Thou hast ravished my heart, with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck. O fly unto him, and thou shalt find this Love in him! Let the world have no part nor portion in thee. He is jealous of thy love; thou must love him only, if thou love him truly. A divided Love, because distracted in her Object, cannot live. Fixed must thy resolves be, and those for eternity, if thou mean ever to reign with him in glory. She deserves not a loving Spouse, that is not faithful in her love to her Spouse. To keep thy Nuptial bed undefiled, is an honour; to violate that Faith thou hast plighted, were piacular. Two hearts cannot rest in one breast, but two Souls may repose in one heart. Thou hast often vowed to keep thyself to one, and He thine only one: and how soon were those sweet vows made bitter, when thine eyes, taken with outward Objects, begun to wander? Tell me (my wounded heart) who was ever sick, and knew himself so, and desired not health? who ever wounded, and sought not for a cure? Now, if outward discontents occasion such Care, what should our inward griefs do, which minister hourly occasions of greater fear? Thou hast long suffered, and desired to be solaced; but thou sought not where Comfort was to be found: and therefore thou found not that which thou sought. The place or repose of an humane or natural heart consists in the delight of this present ●ife. But no sooner is thy heart touched with divine aspiration, than the seat of our heart becomes the love of eternity, and receipt of heavenly consolation. That heart is truly styled the friend of truth, which is a lover and approver of every right action; and makes Heaven the sole object of her contemplation. The truest proof of love is the fruit of a good life. Divine love consists not ●n voice and air. Should thy voice ●ound like a Trumpet, and thy life silent: all this airy Music would give ●ut a dead accent. Thy tongue praiseth ●or an hour, let thy life praise for ever. For as Divine praise in the mouth of a profane sinner, can send forth no sweet-smelling savour: and Prayer▪ the only precious pearl of a pure soul, returns without fruit, when hypocrisy seizeth on the heart: and al● humane wisdom becomes folly, being not directed to God's Glory: so unless thou (O my Wounded Heart) only love God for himself, thy mixed an● divided love can return no comfort nor profit to thyself. It is this divin● and purely-refined love which onel● maketh a rich and wise Soul. For, without this, what hath the wise more than th● fool? Eccles. 6. what hath the poor, that knoweth 〈◊〉 walk before the living? Whatsoever 〈◊〉 by thee (O my languishing heart) abov● all others affected, is by thee adored Prefer nothing, in the true value o● love, before Him that made thee; le●● thou make an Idol of the Creature, an● so dishonour Him, who made all inferior things to serve thee. Do tho● his will by serving Him, and all hi● Creatures will serve thee according to his will. Yea, even He, who hath commanded the Morning: Job 38. and caused the dayspring to know his place; shall show the light of his Countenance upon thee: and thy longing E●res shall hear that voice of comfort uttered by thine heavenly Spouse, the fountain of all comfort: Cant. 4. Thou art all fair, my Love, there is no spot in thee. And in the affiance of his love to whom thou art espoused, shall thy wounded Heart, then cured, return turn this answer to thy Beloved; Cant. 2▪ My beloved is mine, and I am his. Cant. ●. His left hand shall be under my head▪ and his right hand shall embrace me. The New Dress: OR, Motives to a New life. CONTEMPLATION. III. O My Soul, how long wilt thou attire thyself in these rags of Sin? how long in these 〈◊〉 of Shame? when thine heavenly Bride groom comes, H●e will not endure to look on thee; he can by no means like thee, nor love thee, nor espouse himself unto thee, so long as these sullied garments of sin cover thee. To a clean Lord must be a clean habitation. A pure Heart must be his Mansion; purged by Faith, adorned with good works, inflamed with heavenly thoughts. No Edging of vanity, no pearl of vainglory, no tinsell-lustre of hypocrisy must set forth thy Nuptial garment; for these would detract from thy Virgin-beauty. Those Egyptian laces and Babylonian borders might attract a wand'ring eye: but purely fixed be the eyes of thy Spouse. Whatsoever is without thee cannot take him: it is thine inward beauty that doth delight him. Let thy affections then be renewed, thy Virgin-beauty restored, thy de●aies repaired. Come not in his sight, till thou hast put off those rags of sin, and having put them off, say with the Spouse in the Canticles: I have put off my co●te, Cant. 5. 3. how shall I put it on? Let thy New Dress be a New heart: so shall thy Spouse take delight in thee, with his sweet arms embrace thee, and be enamoured of thee, when he looks on thee; and in the knowledge of thy beauty say thus unto thee: Thou art all fair, Cant. 4. my love, there is no spot in the●. Cast thine eye all about thee, O my Soul, but let it not wander, lest thou lose thine honour. Take a full view of the renuall of all Creatures; and reflect upon thyself, who, though Sovereigness over all, becomes least renewed of all. Thou seest the Heart, the Eagle, the Swallow, how hey are re●●ed; nay, even the Snake, how by casting his Slough, he is renewed. Again, thou observest, how years, days, hours and minutes are renewed; how the Earth itself is renewed: She is with fresh flowers adorned, with a native tapestry embroidered, with a new beauty refreshed. Mean time, how art thou renewed? Where be those fresh fragrant flowers of divine graces and permanent beauties, wherewith thou shouldst be adorned? Must all things change for better, and thou become ever worse in the sight of thy Maker? None more inconstant than thou in humouring the fashions of our time; none more constant than thou in retaining the fashion of sin. What canst thou see in thee, that may please thee, or appear pleasing to Him that made thee? Sin is a Soil, which blemisheth the beauty of thy Soul. In this then to glory, were the highest pitch of infelicity. Thou art only to approve that with a discreet Choice, which may make thee most amiable in the sight of thy Spouse. When thou eyest the vanity of Earth, fix the eye of thine Heart on the eternity of heaven. Mix not thy delights in such Objects, where surfeit or excess begets a loathing; Luk. 21. but in those lasting pleasures, where fruition begets in thee an affectionate longing. Fashion not thyself after this world; where there is nothing that tempts but taints. Desire rather to be numerous in hours than years: so dispose of thy time, that time may bring thee to eternity. Ever consider (O my Soul) how thou art here in a Wilderness, and far removed from the 〈◊〉 of true happiness. A Captives proper Melody is Lachrymae: he cannot raise his voice to any other Note, unless he mad himself in his mis●ry, and forget his own State. Vye then in sighs with sins. Take compassion of thy woeful condition: Be not commanded by thine Handmaid. Restrain her▪ lest she grow imperious; show thyself a Mistress▪ that she may become more obsequious. She is worthy to obey, that knows not how to command. Do not lose thy Prerogative; Preserve thy Style, retain thy State, and make Her know how dangerous it is to incur thine hate. The more thou bringest her to contempt, the more shalt thou partake of content: Shouldst thou delicately feed her, or in her desires supply her, or lose thy reins and give liberty unto her, she would not stick to deprive thee of thine honour, and by thy unworthy subjection become an usurping Co ●mmander. To free thee from this danger, let Devotion be thy Succour, so shall the Shadow of the Almighty be thy Shelter. Though the Servant earnestly desire the Shadow, Job 7. 2. and the hireling look for the reward of his work, or rather the end of the day, to conclude his work: tarry thou the Lords leisure; with patience endure the heat of the day, the weight of thy labour. Though a Pilgrim be wearied, he must not fail nor faint, till his journey be ended: Wherein, He accounts himself so much the happier; as he is to his own native Country nearer. If thou fit and furnish thyself in all points for this journey, thou shalt be joyfully received in thine arrival to thy Country. Run then to the Goal, which is set up for thee; Strive to come to the mark, which is before thee. Let no impediments foreslow thee; no delights on Earth divert thee. Seal up thine eye, if it wander; but open it, if it promise to fix on thy Saviour. Hourly thy dissolution is expected; the Marriage-feast prepared, & thou invited; Let thy garment be holiness, so shall thine end be happiness. LOVES LEGACY, OR, PANARETES Blessing to her Children. DRaw near me, and hear those last words which I must ever on Earth speak to you. Sure I am, that the dying words of a tender Mother, cannot but fasten deeper, and retain a memory longer; than the Speech of the movingst Orator. Fear God above all things; it is the beginning of wisdom: and will enrich you above your Portion. You are now in your Childhood, let that season you: so shall His blessing, who hath blessed me, crown you. Be honest in your ways; spare in your words; plenteous in good works. Proportions God hath given you; Portions by God's providence, I have left you; every these with the best portion, the ornament of virtue. Specious Features are not to be valued to the precious embellishment of virtue. Be what you seem to be; & seem what you ought to be: I never loved that Countenance, which could promise much, and perform nothing. Ever reflect on Him that made you: and make devotion, your constant Diary to conduct you. Be tender of those you rank with; either to better them, or be bettered by them. Be humble to all; Humility is the way to Glory: This it is will make you amiable to the Creature; glorious in the sight of your Creator. Learn how to obey, that you may know better how to command. In the consideration of humane infelicity, ☜ there is nothing becomes more incurable, than what is habituate: when Custom of sin takes away all sense of sin. In holy Places is the Devil ever busiest. No disease more dangerous than the Lethargy of Sinne. This Sleep brings ever an heavy awake: for though like a tender Nurse, She sing a sweet Lullabee to her deluded Child, it is ever in worse case the more it sleeps; for it dies in sinnes-slumber, and perisheth untimely by the enchantment of her Mother. Consider this, my dearest ones, Resist the Devil, and be will fly from you: Suffer not the first motions of sin to seize on you. Pray continually, because you have an Enemy assailing you incessantly. The Combat is short, your Crown eternal. In the heat of the day, think of the Evening: The earnest-penny will recompense your pains: Continue to the end, and your reward shall be endless. Be not too curious in enquiring what you are to receive after this life; but so labour, that you may receive your reward of glory after this life. Many by too curious an itching after wh●t they were to receive, have deceived themselves, by loving their reward more than God. Let nothing on Earth take your hearts; Let the divine Love only possess them, so shall you find quietness in them. That heart cannot want, that possesseth God. He will be a Light to direct it, that it stray not: A Comfort to refresh it, that it fail not. For all earthly helps, they must either leave us, or we them. Wherein it falleth ofttimes forth, that we are most afflicted even in those, wherein we expected most comfort. It is one thing to live on Earth, another thing to love Earth. To be in the world, and of the world, are different conditions. Tabernacles are not to be accounted Habitations. While we are sojourning, we must be journeying towards Canaan: Nor may we rest, till we get home. O my tender Ones (for never were Children more dear to a Mother) make every day of your life a promising passage to your native Country. As every day brings you nearer to your grave; may every day increase in you the riches of his grace. Let the joys of heaven and torments of hell be familiar with you; by meditating of the felicity of the one, and infelicity of the other: these to de●erre, those to allure. Be not too much taken with Fashion; it is the disease of this age: Comeliness is the most taking Dress to a discreet eye; whatsoever is else, borders on sin, and becomes reputations' stain. I am not now very old, when I leave you, yet did never that spreading vanity of the Time much surprise me. For my part, I did ever rather affect not to be known at all, than to be known for singular. It is a poor accomplishment that takes her essence from what we wear. The rind makes not the Tree precious, but the fruit. My desire is, that you would be circumspect in your discourse. Though no Society can subsist without Speech, yet were it very necessary to be cautious of the Society to whom we direct our Speech. Few or none have ever been hurt by Silence; but many, too many, by too prodigal Speech, have engaged their freedom to the power of their foes. Let your whole life be a Line of direction to yourselves; and of instruction to others. Be more ready to hear than to ●each: and above all things, let your Fame be a living Doctrine to your Family. Be diligent in the Vocation you are called unto: And be ever doing some good work: that the Devil may never find you unemployed: For our Security is his Opportunity; to prevent then his Sleights, give no way to Sloth. When you come into any Holy place, call Him to mind, to whom it is dedicated. Hold yourselves then, as retired from the world: and lift up your hearts to Him, who is your Hope and Help, both here and in a better world. Esteem of all men well; and of yourselves the worst. Suffer with others, when you shall hear them defamed: and preserve their report as well as you may. For it is not sufficient to be tender of our own, and impeach others: but to tender others as our own. Stand always in an humble and religious fear. Be not ashamed to confess, what you were not ashamed to commit. If at any time, through frailey, you fail; with tears of unfeigned Contrition redeem your fall. Walk with an undefiled Conscience, knowing that you are in his presence, whose eyes are so pure, as they cannot abide iniquity; and whose judgement so clear, as it will search out hypocrisy. Keep your Bodies undefiled; Temples should be pure and unpolluted. If your desire be to honour your Maker; you must make your heart his harbour. Every Country hath one chief City, and that situate in the Heart of the Land; and becomes the Kings Seat. Your Heart shall be the City of the King of kings, so you guard the Gates of your Little City, that no sinful Intruder enter nor surprise them; no corrupt affection win in upon them. Now the better to secure your State; let your Eyes, your City-Centinals, be so directed, that they become not distracted: by wand'ring abroad, they beget disorder at home. All neighbourly Offices I commend unto you; they gain love, which is the oil of our life. But too much familiarity I do not admit; Charity is expedient to all, Familiarity to few. Let not the Sun shine upon you, before you have commended yourselves to that Sun of Righteousness, to direct you in all your ways, and enrich you with all good works. To conclude, (for I feel my failing Faculties drawing near their conclusion) Let your youth be so seasoned with all goodness, that in your riper age, you may retain an habit of that which your youth practised. Well-spent Minutes are precious treasures; whose reviving memory will refresh your fainting Souls in their sharpest gusts of misery. To speak of Marriage to you, I will not; for your Childhood cannot yet conceive it: May your Choice be with discretion, and without Change● so shall succeeding comfort second your Choice. Prefer your Fame before all Fortunes: it is that sweet odour which will perfume you living, and embalm you dying. ☞ I find myself now breathing homeward: the eye of my body is fixed on you; the eye of my Soul on heaven: Think on me as your natural Mother; and of earth as your common Mother. Thither am I going, where you must follow. Value Earth as it is; that when you shall pass from Earth, you may enjoy what Earth cannot afford you; to which happiness your dying Mother commends you. FINIS.