etching of Susanna Perwich by P. Rogerson 
SUSANNA PERWICH  P. Ro●erson deal '  

Her's all that's left. Reader, untimely Death  
Hath Snatched the rest: he needs would stop the breath  
Of this our sweet harmonious Queen of love  
And by her lifelesses picture plainly prove  
Nor Goodness, Beauty, Breeding finest parts  
Where sin is found n●n shend from his fierce darts  
But what th● Effigies wants, the Book will tell  
〈◊〉 Jnwarrd Splendours, look and View them well.    

THE Virgin's Pattern IN THE Exemplary Life, and lamented Death OF Mistress SUSANNA PERWICH, Daughter of Mr. ROBERT PERWICH; Who departed this Life, every way rarely ●●complished Virgin, in the flower of her Age, at her Father's House in Hackney, near London, in the County of Middlesex▪ July 3. 1661.  
Published at the earn●●● request of divers knew her well, for the use and benefit of others▪  
By John Bachelor, a near Relation, that occasio●●ly hath had an intimate converse in the ●●ly with her, more or lesle, the grea●●●● part of her Life.  
London Printed by Simon Dover, and are so 〈◊〉 at his House, in Martins, near Alde●sgat● and at Booksellers shops, 〈…〉   

To all the young Ladies and Gentlewomen, of the several Schools, in and about the City of London, or elsewhere; more particularly to those of Mistress Perwich her School at Hackney.  
Sweet Ladies and Gentlewomen,  
THE reason why this ensuing Relation (worthy of all future memory) is chief presented unto you, is the equity and congruity thereof; together with that particular right, by which you, of all others, seem to lay claim to it. The Person here spoken of, was bred up in the same Family with you, and among you, a daily object before you, and a lively example to as many of you as had wisdom to take notice and make use of it. The manifold Excellencies that shined in her, whether natural, acquired, or infused, are not unknown to you. Whatever was ornamental to body or mind, from nature, breeding, or grace itself, she had as much of it, yea, more (all circumstances considered) than any that I have heard or read of. Indeed some there were of those eight hundred that have been educated in her Father's house within the compass of her time, that did outdo the rest in their respective seasons, some in one quality, some in another, according to their different capacities, and the pains they took, or the time they spent, more or lesle, in the School: but not any one that came near to her in one half of those endowments and rare abilities (without offence be it spoken) that She had attained unto, as will appear abundantly in the ensuing Narration thereof. For if that be true which Mr. Rogers, Mr. B'ing, Mr. Coleman, Mr. Brian, Mr. Hazard, and the rest of the Masters of the School, have often said in respect of the several qualities she learned of them, that (to use their own words) they knew not where she hath left her fellow in the world: when all her other excellencies are considered also, in conjunction with them, it must needs be than much more true. That is a rich Jewel which is made up of all manner of precious stones; and that a sweet Nosegay that hath all sorts of fragrant flowers in it; even such lustres and pleasant mixtures were conspicuous in Her, to every unprejudiced and impartial eye. Indeed it was her hap to be lesle known to, and lesle loved by some, than others; whether it were out of a secret envy at her eminent worth, by which she out-shined them, or from too severe a censure of that in her, which even in themselves (because of higher rank in the world) they did easily allow, I know not. But this I can and do affirm, with truth concerning her, that when she was told above a year before her death, that certain persons (not here to be named) who wished her well, were jealous of her, jest she were puffed up with pride, and the love of vanity; the only answer she made, was, That whatever they thought of her, she honoured them for the grace of Christ she believed was in them, and that she hoped God would enable her to make a good use of this their fear of her, for the better observing of her own heart, and the keeping it the more humble.  
Among those inducements that occasioned the publishing of this, some of the chief are these which follow.  
First, to rofute the opinion of such as greatly blame the education of public Schools, as if they were places of all other, most dangerous to corrupt the manners of youth: Behold here a great instance to the contrary, besides many others that might be named of the very same School, there having been always some as virtuous and religious young Gentlewomen brought up there, as in any private Family whatsoever. Nor is it difficult to go to the several Cities and Counties of this Kingdom, and found out the Houses in which many of them are surviving, beautiful Ornaments of the places where they live, eias ther Virgins, Wives, or Matrons.  
Secondly, to give a proof of the restlessness of a Soul once touched with Divine Love; for let it be where it will, though cumbered with never so much business, and called of with never so many divertisements, yet early or late, at one time or another, it will have its opportunities of converse with God, and will not be hindered, but rather loose both meat and sleep; than such opportunities as these.  
Thirdly, to let all men see that there is something in that which we call Grace, which in the midst of all the most enticing vanities, and blandishments of the world, can and doth ravish the heart more than all these ever did or could do. Here was a young Gentlewoman in the flower of her Age, compassed about with all manner of delights and entertainments, that a carnal mind could desire, and yet what dead things were they to her, and she to them! how were they mutually crucified each to other, when once her nature was renewed, and she felt the sweetness of the change! how was an entire Communion with God, even an Heaven upon Earth unto her! Holiness (let profane scoffers and wretched Atheists say what they will of it) hath something in it more lovely than all the Beauties in the world; something more sweet than all the Musics in the world; something mor● 〈…〉 all the Pleasures in t● 〈◊〉  
Fourthly and lastly, to set a rare Patte●● and Example to all that shall hap to hear or read of this Relation; and indeed this is none of the lest inducements, because it pleased the Lord that divers, who are now living, are able and ready to witness and acknowledge, that her Example, while they were in the Family with her, did not only convince them of their own neglect of the duties which she constantly practised betwixt God and her own soul, and smote their consciences for it; but did so far work upon them, as to 'cause them to do the like ever since. It may therefore be reasonably hoped, that God may bless the same Example unto others, though she be dead; and were it not for such an end as this, how vain would the publication hereof be? Can it any way avail her now she is gone? surely nothing lesle; let none therefore be so uncharitable as to think, that th● Author hereof can propound 〈…〉 end therein, but such 〈…〉 ●ned. He hopes he ●●th better learned Christ; nor yet that what is here related is more out of favour or affection than otherwise. Those that please to inquire, will found witnesses enough to assert the whole truth of the premises; and therefore notwithstanding the unkind censures of any, out of a desire of serving Christ, and the good of precious souls, he can appeal to God, he hath done this, and accordingly makes it his earnest Prayer for a blessing on it: who to show his resolution to own & make good whatever is here said, subscribes his Name,  
John Bachelor.   

To the READER.  
Courteous Reader,  
IF it be asked why any part of the  Relation is repeated in Verse, it is for the sake of such as affect Poetry, rather than Prose; but in case those that read the Prose avoid the Verses, as containing part of the same matter, let them also please to take notice, that divers things are interspersed in Verse, that they found not in the Prose, and that at lest one half of the Verses, viz. from the 50. Section to the end, is all new matter, and I hope such as will not be altogether unprofitable to the ingenuous honest-hearted Reader.  
J. B.   


The exemplary jafe, and lamented Death of Mistress Susanna Perwich, Daughter of Robert Perwich, of Hackney, in the County of Middlesex, Gent. who died a rarely accomplished Virgin, at one of the clock in the afternoon, on Wednesday, the 3. of July, 1661. in the 25. year of her Age.  
SHE was born upon the 23. day of Sept. in the year of our Lord, 1636. in the Parish of Aldermanburic, London; where, having by the care and cost of her Pa●ents been sent to School to learn to read ●s soon as capable thereof; 
Her early pregnancy while a child.  this was remarkable in her at that tender age, that she ●ould needs learn by hearing and observing others rather than by the teaching o● her Mistress, taking a delight it seems t● get her learning altogether by her own industry; yea, so impatient she was of bein● instructed by any, that she would altogether refuse their help, and yet rested no● till she had attained to an ability of reading Scripture, full as well and as distinctly as any of her elder Sisters; an argument of such Pregnancy and Ingenuity, as is no● ordinary in young children.  
When she was seven years and a hal● old, her Father removing his dwelling to his School at Hackney, where now he live● She among the rest of his Children, 
A most rare Musician, & plays at sight on the Triple Viol at 14. years & a half old.  had the advantage of a choice breeding there, and in short time made no small Progress in it, especially in the grounds of Music; for at fourteen years and a half old, She was able to play in Consort, at the first sight upon the triple Viol, and this with so much skill, ease, and sweetness, that She gave no ordinary hopes of proving a very rare Musician. Indeed such an harmonious soul She had, and a genius so exceeding tractable to all sorts of Music, 
Took her Music as it were naturally.  that one of her Masters (Mr. Ives high name) was want to say he could play no new Lesson before her, but She would have it presently: insomuch that not himself only, but divers others her Instructers in that Art, were not a ●●tle proud of her.  
The first that grounded her in the notes 〈◊〉 Music, and enabled her to play so ex●llently on the triple Viol, was Mr. Tho●as Flood, who falling sick, and continuing 〈◊〉 a long time, it occasioned her Father 〈◊〉 make choice of a new Master (Mr. Wil●am Gregory by name) who being eminently skilful at the Lyra Viol., did very much ●●tter the making and forming of her ●and, 
Becomes excellent at the Lyra Viol.  and was the first that gave her that ●re delicious stroke, which afterwards be●me so singularly peculiar to herself. He so taught her all varieties of rare turn●●gs. That which made her so expert, both 〈◊〉 her own play, and in judging of others ●hen She heard them, was her most cu●●ous ear, seldom equalled by any, the very ●st Masters in that Art Divers Books ●he read of excellent composure, and understood them well; nor cared She for any Les●●ns but what were very choice; but her ●hief delight was in divisions upon grounds 〈◊〉 which She had the best that England ●●uld afford.  
Her principal Master at the Viol, for the ●●st seven years, was Mr. Stephen Bing, a surviving witness of her admirable abilities, which in great part (to his honour be it spoken) She gained from him, it being very much his care and ambition, to encourage her with the best grounds and suits of Lessons that could be gotten, and thereby bring her to the highest perfections attainable at the Viol.  
When She played on this Instrument, though singly, as She used it, it gave the delight of a full Consort; but when in Consort with other Viols, or a set of Lute● only, or Viols and Lutes together, or with the Harpsicord or Organ, still her Instrument was Queen of all, and as if it ha● been touched by more than a mortal hand, gave so delicious a sound, and so distinctly too, that any judicious ear might deceit it above the rest; insomuch that it might be truly said, look what the racy flavour i● to the richest Wine; fragrancy to flowers▪ varnish to colours; burnish to gold; sparkling to diamonds; and splendour to the light● that was her ravishing stroke to all the other Music; 
She plays incomparably, and yet sits as if she min●● it not.  and yet (which was the mor● admirable) She sat so steady, and free from any the lest unhandsome motion in her body, so modestly careless, and as it wer● thoughtless of what She was about, as i● She had not been concerned at all; and al● this She did, though She never spent th● tenth part of that time in private practice which others are want to do; for indeed She made better use of her time, at other sorts of higher Music, which was much sweeter to her, as we shall hear anon.  
As her accomplishments at the Viol were superlatively great, so at the Lute also, in which Mr. Ashberry having done his part towards her, in teaching of her till he died; 
And at the Lute.  Mr. John Rogers the rare Lutenist of our Nation, for the last three years, came after him, and added much more to her; professing that her skill at this Instrument was so very exquisite, and her hand so sweet, that he never taught any like her. When She played on the Viol, She seemed to transcend at that Instrument above all the rest, and when She played on the Lute, She seemed to transcend as much there; such a contention, and so pleasant, scarce was ever known from one and the same Virgin's hand before.  
Had leisure given leave, that She could have spared time from her other Instruments and employments, Mr. Albertus Brian, that famously velvet fingered Organist, would gladly have done the same for her, which he hath done for one of her Sisters yet living, in making her as rare at the Harpsecord, as She was at any of her other sorts of Music; and so have paired the two Sisters together; one set of the choicest Lessons at this Instrument, 
also at the ●arpsecord.  at the request of the said Mr. Brian, She learned of him, and as himself affirms, not only attained them in a very short time, but played them as well as he himself could.  
To this her Instrumental Music we may add her Vocal, not lesle delicious and admirable, if not more excellent; as if her Lungs had been made on purpose, (as no doubt they were) by their natural melodies to outdo the artificial; 
She sings most sweetly.  and here Mr. Edward Coleman, her Master, and one of greatest renown, for his rare abilities in singing, deserves no lesle thanks and commendations for the care and delight he took in perfecting her in this Art also, than any of her other Masters.  
She was an incomparable Dancer, as at Country, so in French dances, wherein she was so excellently curious, in her Postures, footings, and most graceful countenance, 
A most curious Dancer.  that Mr. Hazard, her last and chief instructor therein, and one of the rarest Masters of that Art in England, accounted her a prime Flower of the Age in that respect, and said She was as knowing therein, as any Dancing-Master whatever.  
The Fame of all which at last grew so public and universal, that there are few places in England but have heard thereof, yea, and many parts beyond the Seas too. For not only persons of high rank and quality, of all sorts, came from London, the Inns of Court, 
Her Music● frequented by strangers from all part not only in England, but in foreign Nations.  and out of several Counties, to hear and judge of her abilities, especially the chiefest Musick-Masters that are now living: but many foreigners also, as French, Spanish, Italian, Dutch, as well Agents and Ambassadors, as other Travellers into these parts, desired a taste of these her rare qualities, always going away with high admiration, saying that they had now seen one of the choicest rarities of England, and professing they never heard or knew of the like in any of their own Countries.  
All other parts of excellent breeding she likewise had; whatever curious Works at the needle, or otherwise can be named, 
She had all other parts of breeding, whether in curious works or whatever else.  which Females are want to be conversant in, whether by silver, silks, straws, glass, wax, gum●, o● any other of the like kind, she was perfectly skilled in. To say nothing of her ability at the pen, where, being an accountant, her skill was more than ordinary women have; and in Arts of good house-wifry, and Cookery, wherein she had a good share likewise; I hasten rather to the more noble perfections of her mind, which indeed were very aimable and lovely.  
For she had a delicate and nimble wit, a quick apprehension, a clear understanding, a sound judgement, 
●er natural ●●rts.  a fine invention, a tenacious memory, which (as we shall hear anon) she was not want to stuff with vanity, but with what was most worthy to be learned and kept. And as these natural parts and reasonable faculties of her soul, so her moral virtues also were eminent. She was very discreet, 
●er moral virtue's.  wise, and prudent in her actions; not passionate, nor retentive of anger, never over merry, but modestly grave and composed; of a very comely and handsome carriage, insomuch that strangers were want to say, when she came into their presence, they had not seen a more sweet comportment, or a more taking person. For disposition, so affable, kind, and courteous, that she soon gained the love of all, where ever she came. Her discourse was always pertinent and useful, not at all loquacious, her speech being rather sontentious, than garrulous. These and many such like graceful ornaments, added unto the comeliness of her person, rendered her very winningly acceptable to all that knew her. But that which most of all commends her, and justly leaves her a very imitable example to all that shall hear of her, and for which principally this present Relation is penned, is much more considerable than what hath been yet said: Namely, that choice and precious work of Grace upon her heart, which God was pleased to work in her, and by which all her other excellencies were sweetly sanctified; the occasion whereof was as followeth.  
About four years since, being disappointed in the enjoyment of her desires in a Match than propounded to her, 
Her Conversion, and th● occasion of i●  by the sudden death of the party that had gained her affection, she wisely considered with herself, what the meaning of this so sad a providence should be; and at last, after many Prayers and tears to God, that he would bless this unexpected stroke to her, and some way make her a gainer by it, her heart began to be much broken and melted towards God, 
Her brokenness of heart  not so much for this temporal loss (which she often said might have proved a snare to her) as at the sight and sense of sin, and her estate by nature (which (though well educated all her time before) yet till now she had not taken much notice of.  
The good work of God thus happily begun, ceased not, but went forward in her heart daily, to the joy of such near Relations as knew of it; nor could she be quiet, till she had uttered all her mind herein to them, earnestly desiring the assistance of Counsel and Prayer, that she might fully understand her condition, and not be deceived therein. Of all things, she was exceedingly urgent with God, that he would not suffer her to be mistaken herein. Indeed her fears thereof at first were many and great; the questions she put about it, not a few, but never came to be satisfied therein, till God was pleased to give her a sight of that poisonous fountain of original corruption, 
Her deep sense of Original sin.  with which she found herself always pestered, and so hindered in her desisired progress towards Heaven, that this sin above all others she much bewailed.  
And farther became so deeply sensible of the danger thereof, and the necessity of an effectual remedy against it, 
She makes haste to Christ.  that she made haste to run unto Jesus Christ 〈◊〉 help, and that not only for the pardon of this sin, but for power against it, and that continually.  
Hereupon finding her heart always burdened with sin, full of corrupt motions and affections, and yet still relieved by applying Christ, with what he had done and suffered, unto herself, and also feeling her desires stirred up by the good Spirit of Grace, more eagerly to long after God, and the knowledge and enjoyment of him; and farther perceiving, that though the same good Spirit sometimes would melt her heart, yet at other times was pleased to leave her without those inward warmths, which in the use of the best means she laboured after, but by her own strength could not attain unto: she from thence concluded that these changes which she thus felt within her, were the effects of some real and true work of God upon her; for thus she argued, how comes it to pass, that I feel these alterations in myself, now and never before? How is it, that sometimes I am delighted with the inward and sweet workings of the Spirit of God upon my heart? and that at other times I am troubled for the want of it? I lived under the same Ministry before; the same public Ordinances; enjoyed the same helps in the Family, and from faithful friends that sought my souls best good, and prayed much for it; yet never till now could I found any of all this experience, from the different workings both of Sin and Grace in my own heart. Sure this is of God, said she, and can be from nothing else. Thus at last she came to be somewhat persuaded and confirmed concerning the goodness of her spiritual state, as one that was now got over the pangs of the new Birth, though not without many a salt tear, and broken heart.  
Answerable to this first work, was the rest that followed to her dying day, especially within the last two years of her life, 
Her Religious course ●f Life.  and somewhat more; for when it pleased God so to order it by his permissive providence, that one which she most dearly loved, became guilty of a great offence through a sudden temptation that seized on her; it went near to her, and was a great occasion of making her search into her own heart and ways, more narrowly than ever, and not only to bless God that had kept her from the like, 
Looks more narrowly into her own heart.  but also to mourn for those frailties of her youth, which formerly she minded not, though no other than what usually befall the very best that are.  
Thence forward she betakes herself to a more careful and strict watchfulness over her own heart; 
Is very watchful over herself, and keeps close to duty.  and to close and constant duty, not only in the Family, but most of all in secret, betwixt God and her own soul; insomuch that when she was sometimes missing, and earnestly called for, but could not be found; at last it appeared that she had often hid herself, to be alone with God, in the duties of meditation and fervent Prayer.  
One of the first Discoveries hereof, was upon this occasion; being retired into her Closet, and as she thought, 
Her secret Communion with God, discovered against her William.  had sufficiently fastened the door inwardly, one of her most intimate Consorts, upon an urgent occasion, running hastily in with a violent motion, thrust the door open, little thinking at that time, that she had been there; where she kneeling upon her knees, turned about to see what the matter was, the tears in the mean while, trickling down both her cheeks, but was much troubled at this interruption, and discovery of her Devotion.  
Indeed that was one of the matters of her complaint, that she wanted conveniency for retirement, where she might fully vent her Soul to God, without disturbance or observation; and therefore because th● house was always full of company, havi●● well nigh an hundred, and sometimes mo●● of Gentlewomen with their attendants; an● the Servants and Children of the house every where going up and down, 
She seeks the greatest privacy for her Devotion.  in ev●● Room, so that she could get no place 〈◊〉 privacy; her manner was, in the day time, to get into the Garden, at such hour● when others might not so freely come into it, and there with her Bible, or som● other choice Book, spent an hour or more i● Reading, Meditation, and such ejaculations as she could sand up to Heaven in walking at which seasons, 
Finds much sweetness in her lonely walks with God.  she hath sometimes sai● to such as she was want to tell her min● to, her heart hath been as much warm●● and refreshed in converse with God, as when she hath been most affected upon her knees elsewhere.  
Mornings and Evenings she never sailed, by her good will, to read some portion of Scripture (if not called away by extraordinary business on a sudden) and to pour out her heart to God in private Prayer; 
A diligent Reader of the Scriptures.  for which, because no place in the house was so convenient, and so far from noise and sight of others, as one certain remote room, where none usually came at ●●ose hours, 
The chief place of her retirement for holy duties.  therefore that place of all others ●●e made choice of, in the dark Winter evenings, and the Mornings before the family was up; many a time hath she vi●●ed one corner of that Room, which was ●ost retired, with eyes and hands lift up to ●eaven, kneeling at a chair with great ●●fection, which though she never knew that ●ny took the lest notice of (for that would ●ave been a trouble to her) yet a certain ●eer relation that often looked in at a cran●y of the door, which she had fastened inwardly, and did not a little joy to see her 〈◊〉 employed, is yet surviving as an eyewitness of it. Sometimes her read eyes and ●●lubbered face, discovered her, before she could get conveniencies to wash them, notwithstanding that her hood was pulled over them. Nothing did more abash or trouble her, than when any suspected what she had been about; not out of any shame of Religion (for that she owned upon all occasions very freely, 
Much troubled when discovered in them.  as well among the Gentlewomen in the Family, as elsewhere) but out of an honest affectation of being more in this sense, than she would seem to be.  
So sweet and pleasant was her Communion with God in such retirements as these that she said, if ever she should change h● condition, it should be more for this re●son than any other, that she might hav● the full and free use of her time, and oth●● helps for her soul.  
It was observed, that she was always out of the way at five a clock, and appear not till the Bell rang to Supper, at six ●clock, or thereabout, which time she spen● in the aforesaid Duties.  
If at any time she had omitted duty, 'tw●● one of her greatest troubles afterwards, 
Is much troubled for sins of omission.  an● when she sequestered herself unto duty, whether of Meditation or Prayer, she usually read some part of David's Psalms (〈◊〉 Book which she greatly delighted in) because she always found matter there, ver●● proper, preparative and helpful to her i● the said Duties.  
Among other profitable and fruitful Meditations, she was not a stranger to thoughts of Death, even in her best health▪ insomuch that when she heard a passing Bell or knel for any, her custom was to retire into a solitude for a good space, sometimes an hour or more, there to affect her heart with such considerations as ●ere suitable to the occasion.  
She never was better pleased than when ●e met with any in holy Conference (a pra●se which she used (as often as she could ●t opportunity) that communicated exp●riences of the same corruptions and tem●ations, that she found in her own heart; 
She loves the Communication of Christian experiences.  ●nd withal, the same ways of help and ●●lief against them.  
When she found a deadness and coldness ●pon her heart, as sometimes she did, 
By the deadness of her own heart finds continual need of assisting Grace.  and ●ould not get it into a good frame towards ●od, by any means she could use, this in●●rence she made from it; that she hereby perceived her dependence must be wholly up●n Freegrace, as for the acceptation of that she did, so for assistance and ability ●o do what she aught: And several times ●pon this occasion would let fall expressions ●f wonderment, 
Wonders at those that pled for a power in nature.  how any that pretended to 〈◊〉 real acquaintance with God, and carry corrupt hearts about them, always dogged ●nd set upon by temptations from Satan, ●nd an evil world, could pled for a power ●n themselves unto any thing that is good.  
Her care for the spiritual welfare of her ●eer Relations, and some others whom she dearly loved, was very great, and thereupon took occasion often to admonish, exhort and persuade them, 
She is careful for the souls of others.  about the things th● concerned their eternal state; sometimes with tears lamenting their danger, whe● they walked loosely; and than again rejoicing as much, when she perceived an● ground of hope for them.  
One time when she was asked what sh●● thought of the condition of one that sh●● was trusted with the special care of, 
Her character of true Grace.  and w●● want to take some pains with, in the ma●ters of her soul; she answered, the greate● thing she doubted her for, was, jest sh● neglected private duties, which she coul● never perceive she spent any time in; supposing (as there was good reason she should 〈◊〉 that the driving of that secret Trade fo● Heaven, is one inseparable property of tru●● Grace, and that the want thereof, together with the ordinary neglect of Family-dutie● and public Ordinances (whatever the outward Profession might be) were arguments of a very ungracious and profane heart.  

A quick discerner of others that made profession of Religion.  A notable spirit of discerning she had for when she heard any make semblance o● love to God, and were very confident o● their own good estate, but withal spoke very woodenly (as her expression was) about matters of Religion, and the experiences ●●ereof, she much pitied their case, and ●ayed earnestly, that God would open their ●●yes; convince them of their sin and hypocrisy; show them them evil and danger of it, ●●d effectually bring them home unto himself; often saying, what pity it was, that ●ny who are otherwise qualified with ma●y desirable good things of nature, should ●iss of the highest and best improvement of ●●em for God, and at la●● perish themselves or want of Grace.  
When any vain language, or sinful ex●ressions (such as the abusive use of, 
A wise reprover of sin.  O ●ord! or O God) came from any of the Gentlewomen in the House, or any others; ●r any evil action was done by them, she would reprove it so wisely, with so mild and meek a spirit, that they were ashamed of ●t, and sometimes were reform for the ●uture, at lest in her sight and hearing.  
Two principal helps which she coveted most, and made the greatest use of, were good Books and good Company.  
Of good Books she had some stone, but ●hose that she took chiefest delight in, 
The choice Books she read.  were Mr. Shepherds true Convert and his sound Believer. Mr. Baxter's Call to the unconverted. Dr. Goodwin his triumph of Faith, and heart of Christ in Heaven, toward sinners upon earth. Dr. Spurstow upon th● Promises. Mr. Watson his Christian Cha●ter. Mr. Brooks his richeses of Grace. M● Love's works. Mr. Craddock's Book 〈◊〉 Knowledge and Practice. Mr. Francis R●berts his Key of the Bible. Besides some Catechetical Books, as Mr. Baal, Mr. Eus●bius Paget his questions and answers upo● most of the Books of the Old and New Testament; 
Her Practice every night, before she went to sleep.  some one of which she always read every night in her bed, immediately before sleep, and than fed upon them 〈◊〉 her first waking, by which means she increased much in knowledge, and kept he● heart warm whilst it was thus pre-occupie● from all things else in the morning.  
Since January last, she and two or three more, in three months' time, read over the whole New Testament, 
Reads over the whole New Testament in 3. months' time.  and all along as they went, (still reading an whole Book at 〈◊〉 time) discoursed of the Contents of what they had read; when any doubt arose in her readings either from Scripture or other Books, she sought for satisfaction by putting questions, 
Full of questions from what she read.  and always shown a good understanding, in the v●●● mysteries of Divine Truth, and experi●●●●●l Grace, in that no answers ever relished with her, but what most agreed, both with the Analogy of Faith, and the common sense of the best Christians.  
Her next great help (as was before hinted) she found to be good Company, 
Her delight in good Company and good Discourse.  which she always desired and sought for, and when she had it, improved it. Fruitful discourse she would either set on foot, or endeavour to keep up, and drunk it in as pleasantly, as thirsty men do that which best satisfieth their thirst. Among all other subjects, none pleased her better than to talk of Heaven, sometimes saying, O how sweet would it be to know what is doing there; and than in a kind of rapture would break out with such affection and language, as argued a very great inward Joy at the hopes of her coming thither one day. Such a full content and inward refreshment she felt in conferences of this Nature, 
Her Music a burden to her in comparison.  that she would often say, her Music was a burden to her, in comparison; and that were it not in conscience to her duty of being useful by it in so public a Family, she would spend much lesle time in that, and more in this; 
The Spiritual use she makes of her Music  yet she confessed sometimes (through Grace) it helped to raise her own heart towards the highest Music of all, and for that 〈◊〉 practised it more than otherwise she ●●ld have done.  
Upon occasion when some had been greatly taken with the melody she made, both by her voice and instrument, yet how short (saith she) doth this come of a warm Prayer, 
A warm Prayer or heavenly conference sweetest of all to her.  or heavenly Conference? and indeed she found it so many a time, when her heart which hath been heavy and sad at first, hath by such Prayers and Conferences gone away greatly cheered and revived, but never could found the like effects from her Music only.  
No day of the Week unto her so welcome and desirable as the Lord's Day; 
Lord's days most welcome to her; dancing days wearisome, are but these pleasant.  dancing days were always wearisome, but these pleasant to her, and therefore usually (if much illness hindered not) she was up more early on these day's than● any other, and spent lesle time in putting on what she wore; her head on these days of late years she never dressed, and for that reason always went close covered with her hood. She was very diligent and attentive at the public Ordinance, carefully writing the Sermon, and examining her notes when she came home, 
A diligent Writer of Sermons.  which she would not fail to mend by such help as she could get, either at the repetition in the Family, or otherwise, and as constantly reinforced all by Prayer for a blessing upon it, 
Loseth her meals rather than opportunity for prayer.  when she could get opportunity and place convenient, either in her own closet, or elsewhere, and would rather loose her Supper or come late to it, than miss of her aim herein.  
Yet here it must be remembered that it was not always thus with her upon these days, nor at other times; for she sometimes complained of her own heart, and ●ow wearisome these holy duties were to ●he flesh; 
Is much troubled at divertisements.  how apt she was to be taken off ●y divertisements in the Family occasions; that many times when she came down in a morning with a resolution to keep her mind and intent upon God all the day, she was frequently disappointed therein, and still taken of by one business or other, or by some temptation unto vanity, that was ready to surprise her. The consideration whereof at other times much troubled her, 
Is much comforted at the thoughts of Heaven, where no interruptions will be.  kept her under a sense of own her weakness, and caused her sometimes to break forth in these or the like words. O! how sweet will Heaven be! where there will be no interruptions by sin, or wearisomeness of the flesh! What a perpetual rest will that be, when we once come to enjoy it!  
By her good will she would not be absent at any time when the Lord's Supper was administered, 
By her good will never misseth the Lord's Supper.  of which having always a weeks warning, she failed not with great care to examine her own heart, and put up strong cries to God for a fitness to so great a Duty, and so high a Privilege; and indeed sometimes had more fear than ordinary of her unworthiness to partake of it, as appeared by her discourse, which usually was much upon this subject all that Week. So desirous was she not to be found at that Feast, without her wedding garment; it was no small trouble to her sometimes to think what general mixtures there are in that fellowship, in all places throughout the Land; yet being persuaded that to such a sincere receiver, as could not have it otherwise, God would come in with his presence and blessing; she attended upon it in the place where God by his Providence had cast her lot.  
Sinful alterations in public Worship she very much feared, 
She much fears pollution in the Worship of God.  and that she might the better understand the pure Institutions of Christ, and what is contrary thereunto, she took great care to inform herself therein, by reading of such Books as she could get the clearest light from. Much enquiry she made after the Martyrs, as well of ancient times, as in later days, what they suffered for, and upon what occasion, desiring and resolving, if she had lived, to have read over the history thereof.  
And because she perceived that the Romish Religion, and whatever else is a kin● to it, is an undoubted piece of Anti-christianism, that every true servant of Christ aught to bear testimony against, in these parts of the world, and knew not how soon herself with others might possibly be called to it; 
Takes pains to be instructed in Christ's Institutions, about Doctrine, Discipline and Worship.  therefore she betook herself to the getting a good information in those truths that were likely to be most opposed, especially about the Worship of God. Such Books as lately came forth upon these subjects, she endeavoured to get, and diligently read. Among other subjects, that of the reign of Christ upon earth was very pleasant to her; for though her belief reached not so far as to conclude that Christ shall come to reign personally on earth again, yet she rejoiced exceedingly, 
Joys much at the thought of Christ's Kingdom upon earth.  that he shall certainly reign in this world by the effusion of his Spirit, at lest, in the hearts of men, and that than Antichrst shall be wholly ruined, and that glorious song of triumph sung, The Kingdoms of this world, are become the Kingdoms of the Lord and his Christ.  
And because the Book of the Revelations points at those times wherein these desirable changes shall be, 
Reads the whole Book of the Revelations at one time.  she thought it not improper for her, (though of the female sex) to pry into it with humble reverence and Prayer, and therefore sat down one day with another friend, to read over that whole Book, at one time, which accordingly they did; beginning at the first Chapter and never ceasing till they had read ove● the whole two and twenty. This she di● about three months before her Death, an● the reason why she did so, was, that sh●● might take the better notice of the whole Prophecy, and have a full prospect thereof, as it were, 
Reads an excellent Comment upon the Revelations two or three times over.  all at once; and that which mad● the reading of it the more pleasant and profitable to her, was the light which sh● had gained before, in the knowledge of this Book, by twice or thrice reading over th●● judicious Comment upon it, published b● Mr. Francis Roberts before mentioned, it his Key of the Bible.  

A great sympathizer with the suffering servants of Christ.  She had a very compassionate heart towards the suffering servants of Christ, whether by imprisonment or otherwise; pitied them much; spoke often of them, sometimes with tears in her eyes; and praye● for them constantly with great affection.  

Visits some choice friends in the Tower, and comforts them with Music and discourse.  Some of her acquaintances, and very dear friends, such as the Lady Willowby and some others, not here to be named (who highly valued her, and desired her Company (as often as might be) she frequently visited for several years together, while under their restraint in the Tower of London; to whom after a sweet & more spiritual converse otherwise, she would sing and play with all alacrity imaginable, to comfort them in their sadness; accounting it an high honour to her, that she was any way able to be a refreshment to those that she thought were dear to God. To such persons and to such places as they were in, though the closest prisons, she went readily and joyfully; but when invited to any Musick-meeting in London, where the choicest ears, and most skilful Masters of Music coveted to hear and admire her, though never so earnestly desired, 
Would not b● prevailed with to go t● Revels or dancing Balls  she was still backward to it. One time above the rest, with very great importunity she was strongly set upon by some Gentlemen of special acquaintance, to be present at the Revels or dancing Balls, but being left free to her own choice, whether she would go or not (at which she was very glad) she absolutely & irrefregably refused it, as thinking it no way suitable, either to her Person or Profession of Religion.  
Nor were the Music's aforesaid, which she so freely imparted to her said friends in Prison, all the comfort they had from her, but her Spiritual and Christian converse also, was a de●igh● to them, (as is before hinted) as theirs likewise was to her; insomuch that when she returned home from visiting them, 
Accounts it 〈◊〉 sweetness ●nd glory to suffer for Christ.  her discourse was so raised, and her affections so quickened, that she would sometimes say, O! how brave a thing is to suffer for Christ! who would not wish to be among the souls under the Altar, that cry, how long Lord will it be, ere thou revenge our blood on them that shed it! Thus triumphing, as it were, with a kind of heroic spirit of Martyrdom before hand; further adding, that since a Death must be undergone, what better or more noble death can there be, than thus to die? 
Yet fears her own strength ●f called to suffer.  Yet at other times she had as great fears upon her, saying, that if she were called to suffering, she doubted she should not hold out; only the consideration of good Company, a good cause, and especially of a good God (she said) would encourage one much.  
Among her other gracious qualifications, this was not the lest, (especially of latter times) a very tender conscience, as might be instanced in many particulars, wherein she rested not till she received satisfaction to all doubts, from such arguments as were cleared by Scripture, and approved of by persons able to judge in the case.  

Yet rather ●han would ●ffend other, resolves to deny herself in that particular.  To which also must be added, that when she perceived any, especially such as she had a reverence to, remained unsatisfied in any of her actions, she was always ready ●pon knowledge of it, from their own ●ouths, to forbear it, out of a tenderness ●f grieving any of the generation of the ●ust, or any way scandalising her Profession, though as to her own particular, she ●t the same time did think what she was ●o desired to forbear warrantable in it ●elf.  
As for black spots or patches, 
A great hater of black spots.  as they are ●alled, she abhorred them with her very soul, and was so far displeased at the sight ●hereof, that when any of the Gentlewomen made use of them, she seldom or never ●eft, till she had prevailed with them, to forbear that so uncivil a dress, or else desired her Mother to take them of from them.  
As great an enemy she was to any uncomely attire; nor did she affect rich laces, 
And of all uncomely and undecent dresses.  or any thing over costly, but what was most ●eat in a plain ga●b, much more minding the Ornaments of the hidden man, which in the sight of God are of greatest price.  
It was a great abashment to her, 
Can not endure to hear her own praises.  when ●ome unwisely uttered high praises of her to her face, and thereby put her ●nto a blush; the fear whereof, made her often modestly refuse to come into such Company at other times: Indeed she knew God had blessed her with some of those liu● things (as she was want to call them) whic● the sensual world magnified too much, 
Fears the pride of her own heart.  an● she desired to be very thankful for them but withal was much afraid of being lists up with pride, and therefore entreate● friends in that respect to pray for her.  
As she was always ready to assist he● Mother in Law in the Family and Sch●● so she had a particular reverence and ver● dear affection to her own Father, 
A ready help in the Family.  who cheerfulness and content, was one of th● greatest pleasures she had in this world; 〈◊〉 his sadness and trouble at any time, 〈◊〉 great an occasion of grief to her; 
And a most dutiful and tender child to her Father.  and therefore did what she could to minister a● manner of comfort to him, by the performance of those dutiful and tender respects, which as a child she owed him.  
As for her condition in respect of a si●gle life, 
She wanted no proffers for marriage.  it was not for want of proffers fro● several that would gladly have obtained her, but through dissatisfaction in th● qualifications of the Persons, she being resolved (God assisting her) never to mat●● any, 
Resolves never to marry any but such as may help her in her way to Heaven.  were his worldly advantages nev●● so great, unless she were well assured (〈◊〉 far as charity could judge) of th● goodness of his spiritual state, and he likelihood of his being a real help to he● in the way 〈◊〉 Heaven. Had she lived to a perfect recovery from sickness, divers considerable offers (known to some friends) would speedily have been made to her, of which she might have taken her choice; but now God hath otherwise declared his pleasure in the highest and best disposing and preferring of her, even by making her a Bride in Heaven, to him who for some years past, had ●gotten her heart from all other Objects; and to whom she stuck with all faithfulness, till at last after a sore fit of sickness, she died in his arms; the occasion whereof I now hasten to.  
In Whitsun Week, at the earnest desire of a very dear friend, she went to London, 
Her sickness unto Death, with the occasion of it.  where (as Providence ordered it) she was unhappily lodged in damp Linen, which in the night time clung fast about her, and had left that in her, which she herself said (as soon as she awaked) would prove her Death; whereupon in the morning it being made known, the best means that could be, were used to prevent the danger of it, but the Lord was not pleased to give success therein; and so after three or four days she returned home, 
Her mind runs altogether upon her own Death.  (upon Saturday J●●● ●●e 8th.) to her Father's House at Hackney, where all her mind from that time, still ra● upon the thoughts of her own Death; the strong apprehensions whereo● put her upon a great improvement of her remaining time, both in Reading, Praying, and Discoursing, 
Prepares for it.  like one that expected shortly to leave the world; for she said she felt that about, her which would carry he● away quickly, 
Exhorts her friends to prepare for a change.  and was much worse inwardly, than perhaps any one thought; and therefore exhorted one of her Sisters, whom she dearly loved, and conversed most with, t● mind eternity, to think much of her change, and labour to be prepared for it; acknowledging the goodness of God to herself, who had spared her so long. After this time she grew worse and worse, till on Saturday June the 22. (14. days after her return home) she took her bed, 
She takes her bed in a Violent .  in order to her grave; where being seized upon by a Violent Fever, her strength was so wasted, and her spirits gone, that upon the Teusday after at midnight, (being June the 25.) she was hardly able to chatter, 
Three days after sends for all friends to take a solemn leave of them.  and so sent for her Father, Mother, and Sisters, to see them once more, and take a solemn leave of them; who when they were come and sat all weeping about her, with great lamentation, after a little space, as if strength had been renewed on purpose for that end, she began to utter her affections and desires to them about many things, wherein she expressed herself, with so much prudence, 
Discourseth excellently with intermissions for divers hours.  discretion, and composedness of mind, and ●his for almost four hours together, with ●ome intermissions, that it was marvellous ●o behold; among other things she much persuaded to the preservation and strengthening of a love and unity among ●ll Relations. At last as she was saying, 
With her Father's leave gives all she had to several friends.  that she had nothing to leave them ●n memorial of her, presently her Father ●old her, he gave her free liberty, to dispose ●f whatever she had; at which she was ●ery much pleased, and thanking of him, distributed to every one according to her ●wn mind; her several Rings to be worn distinctly, as she directed, by her Father, Mother, and Sisters; two of her Rings she ●ut upon her fingers, and taking them of again, 
Distributes her Rings, Clotheses, Works, Books and Instruments.  gave them to be kept for her two Brothers beyond Sea, as a token to them ●rom her dying hand; all her Clotheses, her Watch, and a certain piece of Plate mark●d with her own Name, she gave to one Sister; all her Works and Instruments of Music to be divided betwixt three other Sisters; her Books also she disposed of; and as a Legacy to all the Gentlewomen of the School; 
Her Legacy to the Gentlewomen of the School.  she commended her dying desires and requests to them, that they would not spend their time in reading of vain Books, but instead thereof, to betake themselves to the best Book of all, the Bible, and such other choice Books, as might do their souls most good; as also that they would be constant in the use of private Prayer; that they would be careful to sanctify the Lord's Day, and not waste those precious hours in overcurious dress; and that they would behave themselves reverently at the public Ordinances, it having been a great offence to her formerly when any have done the contrary.  
Than falling into speech about her Funeral, 
Expresseth her mind about her Funeral.  in what Room she desired her Hearse might stand, where she should be Buried, and other particulars about the manner o● it; she desired that all might be done decently, and that Dr. Spurstow, by whose Ministry she had been much edified and comforted, might Preach at her Interment, in all which she submitted to her Father's pleasure.  
But that which was very remarkable in this her large Discourse, 
Seems not afraid of Death.  she shed not one fear nor seemed at all sadded at her approaching Death; and when she was told that her Father's heart was ready to break, wh● far- weeping and groaning by her all th● while; she said she was sorry for it, a●● asked why he would do so? adding farther that for her part, she was in God's hand and willing to yield up to him, hoping that ●ll friends would endeavour to do the like; ●●d so being now quite spent with speaking ●or she desired not to be intterrupted, till ●er whole mind was uttered) she lay stillage ●●e rest of the Night.  
The next Day being Wednesday, June ●he 26. Dr. Spurstow came to visit her, 
What promise' she relied upon, though in the dark.  ●ho ask her what she found in herself? ●hat she thought concerning her own spiritual State? as also what evidence she had ●f God's Love? or Promise' to rely upon? ●he answered, that she was in the dark as ●o her own evidences, and that they were ●ot so clear to her as she could wish; yet ●hat she was not without hope; that she ●ad found much sweetness in many passages of Scripture; but from that chief (Ro●●titus the 8. and 28.) All things shall work together for good, to them that love God. Af●er Discourse ended, she desired of the Doctor, that she might once more hear him Pray, and accordingly had her desire ●herein.  
The same Day in the afternoon, she ●as more strongly assaulted than before; for ●ow to her Peaver, and almost exhausted strength, convulsive motions were added, and rising of the Mother, by which when she had been greatly afflicted, and beyond all hope recovered again out of them, 
Her thankfulness for a little ease, and pious resolution if she lived.  s●● called to her Sister sitting by, and ask what day of the Month it was; who enquiring after the reason of that question, w●● told by her, that if she lived, she woul● celebrated it for ever hereafter, in a thanks● remembrance of her being thus reviv●● again, as it were like another Lazarus.  
The next day lying in a slumber, as he● Sister thought, 
She awakes out of a kind of trance.  she suddenly turns he● head to her, and hastily tells her, that sh● had a Call to be gone; a Call, saith she, b● whom? God hath Called me, replied she to be gone from hence, and I must die why, how do you know it? said the other very well saith she, I am sure it will be so and therefore do not reckon upon my Life  
One coming not long after to visit her and to pray with her, asked her how sh● did; I am going to Heaven, said she, a● fast as I can.  
Three nights after this, God in a wondered manner supporting her under continual pains, so that friends hoped she might wear them out; well, saith she, for all th●● I shall dye, and be at rest in Heaven wit● my dear Lord, before the morning comes yet it proved not so, for she lived almos● four days after, sometimes giving new hope of recovery, and than falling bac● again.  
All the time of her sickness she was ve●● patiented, 
Prays very much for patience, and is answered.  earnestly praying that God ●ould enable her still so to be, and that ●e might not murmur while his hand lay 〈◊〉 heavy on her. Ever and anon she would ●●y out, little doth any know what I feel; ●ut I hope, saith she, God will strengthen ●●e to the end. She often enquired whe●●er any were seeking God for her, which ●hen she was assured of, blessed be God, ●●ith she, he will reward them for it.  
Three things she desired might earnestly be sought for from God on her behalf, patience under her so grievous sickness, ●lear evidences of God's Love, and an easy ●assage, if God should call her out of this ●ife; in all which she was graciously answered, as every one that attended her ●rom first to last, can witness.  
One time she seemed to lie in a kind of Agony, 
Some fear seizeth on her, but presently vanisheth.  and suddenly breaking out with these words, said, shall I say that God ●ath forsaken me? no, I will not. All the ●ime after she seemed well satisfied, and much at peace in her mind concerning her future state, nor had any fear at all upon ●er; for being told by her Sister, that she was persuaded, if God should be pleased to take her from hence, she should be happy with him; she replied, I doubt it not in the lest, and was never heard to let fal● one word to the contrary all the while after.  

Submits to the will of God.  Being asked (as she often was) how she did? she answered, in pain all over, eve● as God will have it; the Physician I see can do me no good, but one word from Go● can help all, if he please.  
At another time she looked about her, and said to the standers by, God might ha●● made you all like me, and I might have bee● in your case, if it had seemed good to him, b●● his holy Will be done.  
Upon the Lord's Day before her Death, when speech almost quite failed he● (though not her senses nor understanding, 
Her meditations fixed on God.  which she had even to the last) she softly uttered these words in the midst of very great pains, which all that day universally seized on her, the Goodness of God is the bes● goodness, the Goodness of God is the best goodness; often repeating of it, as if her hear● were holy taken up with that Meditation.  
When a near friend stood by her praying earnestly, for her in this extremity, at every sentence she testified a very great affection, 
Her great fervency in time of prayer, though weak.  by such a lifting up her eyes and hands towards Heaven, as if her whole soul had ascended in every petition, which occasioned some heave of the Mother; and being told, that since it came by the zeal ●f her heart in Prayer, God would sweeten ●t to her; she replied, I question it not.  
On the Monday morning, 
She fortels the hour of her own Death.  she often muttered out very softly, these words, two days and an half more, and than I shall be an rest; which she repeated two or three times; and accordingly from that very time, she did live two days and an half, to wit, 
And dies at the same hour.  till Wednesday Noon following, and than began to draw on apace towards her last breath.  
Indeed her pains now seemed to leave ●her, or her strength rather, being able not more to struggle; and so lying in a kind of quiet sleep, at last panting for breath a short space, in a small silent groan, gave up her precious soul into the hands of God, whose Angels carrying it away to Heaven (as we have comfortable ground of hope to believe) left us all in bitter mourning and wailing over her dead Body.  
When she was laid out in the Chamber where she died, 
The great lamentation at her laying out.  dressed in her Night clotheses, one would have thought she had been in a kind of smiling slumber; and now the Gentlewomen, with the rest of the Family, and some neighbours coming to see her, and give her their last salute, it would have broken ones heart, to have heard and seen the many cries, tears, and lamentations, that the Room was filled with.  
So dear a child she was, and of such high deserts (as hath been already related) that her Father and all friends, thought her worthy of a very decent Burial, and accordingly upon Saturday the sixth of July, she was attended to the grave with a numerous Company, in manner following.  
The Hearse covered with Velvet, was carried by six servant Maidens of the Family, 
Her honourable Burial.  all in White; the sheet was held up by six of those Gentlewomen in the School, that had most acquaintance with her, in mourning Habit, with white Scarf● and Gloves; a rich costly Garland of gum-work, adorned with Banners and Scutcheons, was borne immediately before the Horse, by two proper young Ladies, that entirely loved her. Her Father and Mother, wi●h other near Relations, and their Children, followed next the Horse, in due order, all in mourning; the Kindred next to them, after whom came the whole School of Gentlewomen, and than persons of chief rank, from the Neighbourhood, and from the City of London, all in white Gloves, both Men, Women, Children, and Servants, having been first served with Wine.  
When the Hearse first entered the Church, the rest of the Schools were all there, in their respective places, affectionately sympathising with the rest of the Mourners. I know not whether Hackney Church hath often not more weeping eyes; and aching hearts in it, on such an occasion, so greatly and generally was she beloved.  
The Horse being set down, with the Garland upon it, the Reverend Dr. Spurstow applied himself to the proper work of the ●eason, and preached upon those words, 
The Text preached upon at her Funeral.  〈◊〉 Cor. 3.22. Death is yours. From whence, after he had declared at large the sweetness that lies in this word Death, as it is a part of Christ's Legacy to a Believer, he made such useful inferences and applications, ●s were proper for the occasion.  
This done, the rich Coffin anointed with ●weet Odours, was put down into the Grave, ●n the middle Alley of the said Church, 
The place of her Burial.  unnethe same stone, where Mrs. Anne Carew, ●ne of the great beauties of England in her ●ime, and formerly a Gentlewoman of the School, and intimately acquainted with her, was buried; being the second of those five Gentlewomen only, which have died out of ●er Father's House, among? those eight hun●red, that have been educated there, within ●he compass of seventeen years.  
And now what follows after all this? i● it not a fair warning to us, 
The Conclusion of all.  that yet survive her, to bethink ourselves of our own condition? and whether we be ready for death, i● we should be suddenly called, as she in 〈◊〉 manner was? should we not make it ou● constant Prayer, and utmost endeavour, t● number our days, and so to number them as to apply our hearts to Wisdom, even t● that Wisdom only, which will make us 〈◊〉 to dye? All the days of my appointed tim● will I wait (saith Job) till my change come O let that be our saying too, and our practice also.   


Upon the aforesaid Mistress SUSANNA PERWICH.  

I. A Description of her Person.  
AMong the many Female Glories,  
Which may be seen sometimes in stories,  
Let candid Readers show us where  
She can be found, that may compare  
With Her this paper now sets forth,  
Far short of her rare parts and worth.  
Her Person comely, Read and White,  
Mixed curiously, gave great delight.  
Pure snows, with Rich Vermilions' stream,  
Strawb'ries i'th' Silver dish of Cream.  
Fresh-blown Cornations, Queen-like reigns,  
While Violets tincture all her veins.  
Strait, Proper, Handsome, every Feature,  
Set in due place, made her a Creature.  
Much loved; let's take a special view,  
Look where you will, you'll found it true.  
Her dark brown Hair, her double mould,  
Moore lovely were, than sparks of Gold,  
Her own mere natural curious Tresses,  
Outshine all adventitious Dresses.  
Round Argent Brows! whoever mark●  
Her smooth high Foreheads Eban-Arks;  
Tralucent Temples, through her Locks,  
Peer out like Alabaster Rocks.  
From her black jetty starry Eye,  
Ten thousand sparkling Lustres fly.  
Brave generous Spirits siderial,  
Move quick about each nimble Ball.  
Under a Velvet Coverlet,  
Each glittering Star doth rise and set.  
Such Eyelids, fittest Caskets be,  
For such bright Gems effulgency.  
Ouches of Gold, encircling passes,  
About this pair of burning-glasses.  
Two Hemisphears, with two such Suns,  
O'er Microcosm's seldom runs.  
Midst these twin-flames, a marble Mount,  
Mounts ridge-wise up, down from her front.  
On each side of which ridge you'll spy,  
Aurora's Rosy blushes lie.  
Her sanguine Checks, like two Queen-apples,  
Nature's great Artist neetly couples.  
Her two Ambrosial ruddy Lips,  
In deepest Scarlet die she dips.  
Who views her well-set polished Teeth,  
Will think two ranks of Pearls he seethe.  
Twixt these matched milk-white Ivory rows,  
A sweet breathed Aromatic slows,  
All down along to her swanlike Neck,  
Her fine Complexion hath no speck.  
Her pair of round Crowned rising Hills,  
Each moment with new panting fills.  
Her sleck soft downy chequered Wrists,  
Small Azure threads, finely entwists.  
Her Lily Hands, long woodbine Fingers,  
Hung ever quivering, never lingers,  
In trembling strokes, which always she,  
Tunes into sweetest Harmony.  
I scarce ere see them, but the sound,  
Of Music seems thence to rebound.  
Not Unions, no choice Jewels are,  
Found any where, that may compare,  
With th'very Nails, or Joints, or Bones,  
That her ten sister-fingers owns.  
You'd scarce know which are richest things,  
Her knuckle bones, or Di'mond Rings.  
Moore curious is each Satin limb,  
Than th' silken trails that cover him.  
Thus if you take her every way,  
How lovely she's! what shall I say?  
Her Head, her Face, her every part,  
Most graceful was, there need no Art,  
Be used at all, her to adorn,  
With Paints or Pearls, she being born,  
Nature's own Masterpiece; white Skin,  
Rose-lips, fair Breasts, sweet Smiles, and in  
Her gestures such a compound Grace,  
Made her to beautify the place  
Where e'er she came, her goodly look,  
At first sight the beholders took;  
And won their hearts immediately,  
With her thenceforth to live and dye.   

II. Her natural parts.  
Yet this is but the outside, we  
By looking inwardly shall see,  
Moore Orient Beams; within her shined  
The choicest Beauties; she was lined,  
With stuff more costly there; such Rays  
of Radiancy she thence displays,  
As if the Pangloretta she,  
Of her whole Sex was made to be.  
Her sharp, sublime, and pleasant Wit,  
Made her Companion very fit,  
For the rich pregnant genius.  
Of those were most ingenious.  
Fine jests, quick answers readily,  
Flowed from her tongue most fluently.  
Rhet'rick she had, and Eloquence,  
As if she'd been at great expense  
In learned Schools: fine sentences  
Dropped from her, great dependences  
Were in her words; the sense and matter  
Was useful, solid, she'd not scatter  
Vain talk, but what best profited  
Herself and others, that she fed  
Their ears withal; what she had learned  
From well-read Books, and what she earned  
By her industrious Meditations,  
Or by her careful observations  
From others speech, that she laid up,  
And therewith made her guests to sup,  
When they came in to visit her,  
And to them was an Instructor.   

III. Her moral Virtues.  
Not rash, but most deliberate  
In all things, and considerate;  
Prudent she was, discreet, and wise,  
Humble and meek, no lofty eyes  
In her were seen: she never frowned  
With angry looks, such as abound  
In rugged tempers; modesty  
In bashful blushes constantly  
Coloured her Face; no garishness,  
Or any wanton foolishness  
Stained her at all; she much desi'd  
These vices, and them ever flyed.  
Most gentle, affable, and kind,  
She was to all, you scarce could found  
One so benign; few of this Age,  
'Mong young folks, or among the Sage,  
Beyond her went in courtesy,  
Moore ready was to gratify  
Favours received: she would requited  
Such kindnesses with all her might.  
She had a noble generous heart,  
As she was able to impart.   

iv Her charity to the Poor.  
Where need required she, suffered none  
In vain to her to make their moan.  
The meanest Beggar at the door  
She pitied, and relieved the Poor.  
By her good will, no one should want,  
Specially those in Covenant:  
For them it was her chiefest care,  
When they were sick, hungry, or bore,  
Most to refresh: she would be sure  
Them food and raiment to procure,  
Whoever wanted, they should not,  
If succour for them could be got.   

V Her sympathy with the suffering servants of Christ.  
Christ's suffering Members she would visit,  
As often as time served, she'd not miss it.  
The Exile and Imprisonment,  
Of some dear Friends she'd much lament.  
Was their blood shed? she felt the dart,  
That wounded them, ' twent to her heart,  
To think what dark, close, dungeons they  
Were stifled in, both Night and day.  
Great pity caused her to yearn  
For them, and all her bowels turn  
Within; when she got them among,  
Tears from her eyes, and from her tongue  
Sad language flowed: she did partake  
●heir sorrows, head and heart did ache,  
●t thought of what they suffered; she  
●ould not forbear to go and see  
●ow't fared with them, though she were shent,  
And many a precious hour she spent,  
To comfort them what she was able,  
In this their case so lamentable.   

VI Her partnership in friends afflictions.  
Mourned others? she in sympathy  
Would mourn also, when they did lie,  
In any doleful misery.  
Their griefs she always made her own,  
And ever greatly did bemoan  
Their sad calamities: her heart  
In sorrows deep did bear a part.  
Did Parents sigh? she sighed too;  
Grieved they? she knew not what to do,  
Till she had found out some relief,  
To case the pain of Parent's grief.  
Were any of her near Relations,  
Afflicted by sad alterations  
●n health, estate, or comforts any,  
●er groans were such, her tears so many,  
●s i● alone concerned: so deep  
●ere her rescentments, she'd so weep,  
●s if her heart would break asunder,  
●nd the great burden truckle under.   

VII. Her love to peace.  
Peace was the darling of her heart,  
So that to her no greater smart  
Can come, than when a difference risen  
Among dear Friends, she'd interpose,  
And by her wise calm moderation,  
Moore firmly knit each dear Relation.   

VIII. Her most excellent breeding.  
Next her improved breeding high  
You will perceive now by and by.  
No quality or rare perfection,  
But 'twas her own, make what election  
You please of most desired skill,  
That Females glory in, she will  
Excel them all throughout the Town,  
Yea Kingdom too, and wear the Crown,  
Of a renowned veneration,  
From all the rest of the whole Nation   

IX. Her incomparable abilities in Music of all sorts, both vocal and instrumental.  
First for her Music, who can give  
Sufficient praise? or 'cause it live,  
As it deserves in memory?  
And that to all posterity?  
Ask Rogers, Bing, Coleman, and others,  
The most exactly skilful Brothers:  
Ask Brian, Mell, Ives, Gregory's,  
Hows, Stifkins, all, in whom there lies,  
Rare Arts of Music, they can tell,  
How well she sung: how rarely well  
She played on several Instruments,  
What high admired accomplishments,  
She had attained to; Angels hands,  
On Lute or Viol. scarce commands  
A sweeter touch; she never shall,  
Be equalled by the Nightingale.  
If Kings and Princes claim the best,  
Of Melodies above the rest,  
'Twas she could give them, she alone,  
Whether from Art, or nature's tone.  
So tuned a voice! so shrill a sound,  
In Male or Female rarely sound!  
Each Crotchet, Quaver, Minnum, Note,  
Kept time within her warbling throat.  
Soft, deep, high strains, in triple Song,  
Flowed sweetly from her sugared tongue.  
Not strings of Harp, no Organ Pipe,  
Stretched or reached higher; she was ripe  
Even for the heavenly Chorus; she  
Of all sorts, gave such Harmony.  
Where she was singing had you come,  
By chance into the blissful Room,  
You'd thought by the melodious Air,  
That Quires of Angels had been there.  
Laws, Sympson, Polewheel, Jenkins, all  
'Mong the best Masters Musical,  
Stand ravished while they hear her play,  
And with high admiration say,  
What curious strains! what rare divisions!  
Are we not 'mong Celestial Visions!  
This is no human hand! these strokes,  
The high immortal Spirits provokes  
To listen to her! she plays so,  
That after her none takes the bow,  
To play again; it is too much,  
To take the confidence to touch,  
The Instrument which she laid down,  
Or go about to win the Crown,  
Which she had set on her own head,  
With Laurels all enameled.  
Not, not, they must wholly despair,  
To give one such delicious Air  
Of which she millions gave; each touch  
To most judicious ears was such,  
So sweet, so quick, so dainty, rare,  
That nothing could therewith compare.  
No strain but was incomparable,  
And by men's Art insuperable.  
The deepest grounds where utmost skill,  
Of a rich fancy lay, she still  
Most finely nicked; her nimble Arm,  
Still made a most delicious Charm.  
Quick numerous motions she would show,  
With her swift, gliding, jumping bow.  
Even in a moment she would measure,  
Thousands of strokes, with ease and pleasure,  
Where others hundreds scarce could reach,  
Though such as most professed to teach.  
All this, both by her hand and brain,  
Without the lest toil, labour, pain.   

X. Her handsome sitting at her Music  
No Antic gestures, or bold face,  
No wriggling motions her disgrace.  
While she's at play, nor eye, nor head,  
Hither or thither wandered.  
Nor nods, nor heaves in any part,  
As taken with her own rare Art  
All vain conceited affectation,  
Was unto her abomination.  
With body she ne'er sat askew,  
Or mouth awry, as others do.  
Careless she seemed, as if her mind,  
Were somewhere else, and yet we found  
Performances to admiration,  
And our exceeding delectation.   

XI. A most curious dancer.  
As hand and tongue, her feet also,  
She curiously had taught to go.  
Her motions measure all the ground  
Exactly, while sweet Music's sound:  
That whosoever observed her tread,  
Must needs be much enamoured.  
If French or English Dances were  
An ornament, how finely there!  
Did she outdo all she came near;  
To th' wonderment of them that see her?   

XII. A Composer.  
As Lessons she, so Dances too,  
When old were spent, could make more new.  
Masters themselves, sound at the closure,  
A curious skill in her composure.  
Than to preserve her memory,  
O let them always practised be!  
And to keep up their Author's fame,  
O let them also bear her Name!   

XIII. Good at the Pen.  
She writ well, cyphered, cast account,  
Can tell to what the sums amount  
Spent in the House, and greater too,  
If need required, as often as you  
Demanded it; fair letters writ,  
Pregnant, with sense, worthy the sight  
Of learned Secretaries. She  
In needle's Art attained to be   

XIV. Her rare skill in all sorts of Works.  
Perfectly curious; every work  
In which a cunning skill did lurk,  
She had it at her finger's end,  
And loved therein sit time to spend.  
In black-works, white-works, colours all,  
That can be found on earth's round ball,  
She did excel. Wax, Straws and Gum,  
Silks, Gems, and Gold, the total sum  
Of rich materials she disposed  
In dainty order, and composed  
Pictures of men, birds, beasts, and flowers,  
When leisure served at idle hours.  
All this so rarely to the Life,  
As if there were a kind of strife,  
'Twixt Art and Nature: Trees of fruit,  
With leaves, boughs, branches, body, root,  
She made to grow in Winter time,  
Ripe to the eye, easy to climb.  
Buds, blossoms, foldings, Sunny beams,  
In chequered shadowings finely streams,  
Among the thickest clusters there,  
Whether of Apple, Cherry, Pear.  
Here hangs a Plumb, a Strawberry,  
An Orange there, a Goseberry,  
An Honysuccle, July flower,  
Wetted as it were from a fresh shower.  
The Rose, the Violet, the Lily,  
The goodly Tulip, Daffodil,  
With many more varieties,  
Of nature's chiefest rarities.   

XV. Her great humility in the midst of all her excellencies  
All these rich qualities she had,  
Most beauteously and bravely clad  
With ornaments of every kind,  
Whether for body or for mind.  
And yet which was the Crown of all,  
She was not touched with pride at all.  
Not vain conceit puffed up her heart,  
With thoughts of this her great desert.  
Although there was a glorious sound,  
Went of her worth, all England round,  
In London, when great meetings were  
Of curious ears, which here and there  
Lay scattered, and were got together,  
And one much pleased with another,  
In their own Musics, yet she still  
The Laurel bears, not any will  
Farther contend when she hath played,  
But down their Instruments all laid.  
Yet notwithstanding this, when even  
She was again desired, she never  
By her good will would come again,  
'Twas not her pleasure, but her pain,  
To hear her own admired Name  
Sounded with golden trump of fame.  
When commendations 'fore her face,  
Her high encomias did enchase;  
When tongues of Strangers could not hold  
Till they her praise to all had told,  
Yea to her self too, yet her ear  
ne'er listened to't, 'twas her great fear,  
Jest some black evil her should seize,  
If puffed up by such things as these.   

XVI. Gives God the glory of All her ric● qualities.  
Blessings she did acknowledge them,  
And often said, she should condemn  
Herself of much ingratitude,  
And not her duty understood,  
Unless she very thankful were  
To him that of all gifts that are,  
The fountain is, to him alone,  
She joyed to give what was his own:  
And with the best of all she had  
Sincerely serve him, and make glad,  
Her pious friends, that earnestly,  
Prayed for this her humility.   

XVII. Abominates black spots.  
Black spots to her abominable  
Were always held, nor was she able  
To bear their sight, she did complain,  
Till they were taken of again,  
Where e'er she saw them, herself ever  
So much detested them that never  
Durst she wear them, for well she knew,  
If she had done't she must renew  
Repentance for't: she'd ne'er disgrace,  
God's workmanship in her own face,  
Whose lustre never shineth lesle,  
Than when in such an whorish dress.   

XVIII. And nakedness.  
Nor naked was her back or breast,  
What was most chaste she loved best.  
Whisks, Handcherchiefs, she'd always wear,  
Where others shamelessly went bore.  
They yet live whom she carefully  
Consulted, what most lawfully  
In all parts of her garb she might  
Wear without sin, and do what's right.  
She ne'er would in the lest desire,  
Uncomeliness in her attire.   

XIX. Delights in decent and modest attire.  
Decent she loved, and neat to be,  
As best befitted her degree.  
Her Whisks, Quoifs, Hoods, and silver purls  
Suited her garments silken furles.  
Fine Bracelets, Earrings, Necklaces,  
Sometimes those parts encompasses,  
That when she led the Dances 'mong  
The many beauteous Ladies young,  
Which to her Mother's Scoool were sent,  
She might give them the more content.  
Yet this to her no pleasure gave,  
For she had rather been more grave,  
But that the business of her place  
Required such an handsome grace.   

XX. A transition from morals to supernaturals.  
Thus we a little now have seen  
What were the virtues of this Queen  
Of Diamonds, in moral things,  
But that which lifts her on the wings  
Of highest same, is yet behind,  
The best endowments of her mind,  
In works of grace and holiness,  
Let's see her now in that brave dress.   

XXI. Her conversion, and the occasion of it.  
That which first wrought upon her soul,  
And did her happy name unroll  
Among true Converts, was the Death  
Of a dear friend, whose mortal breath  
Gone suddenly, left such impression,  
(According to her own confession)  
That she enquiring of her God,  
What was the meaning of this rod,  
'Twas plainly told her, reformation  
And not at all her desolation:  
But that her souls eternal good  
Was only sought; at which she stood  
Pausing a while, and than she said,  
Is this the reason God hath laid  
His rod upon me? I'll repent  
Of every sin, I'll now relent;  
I'll search my heart, I'll try my ways,  
I'll harken what my conscience says,  
Concerning mine eternal state,  
And what is like to be my sit;  
Jest I likewise surprised be,  
By sudden death as well as he.   

XXII. Her self-examination.  
Thus first resolving she proceed●,  
Examines Thoughts, and words, and deeds,  
Compares them with God's holy Word,  
To see wherein her dearest Lord  
Offended was, and what the spring,  
Such filthy noisome streams did bring,  
Wherewith she was polluted so,  
And did a fresh still overslow  
So fast upon her; last she spies  
Whence 'twas, and than aloud she cries   

XXIII. Her sight of Original sin, with the danger of it.  
O my great Sin Original,  
Hence, hence, my foul corruptions all  
Boil up, break forth, contaminate  
What e'er I do, communicate  
Abominations ugly stain  
To my best actions; hence my pain,  
Even from the grand iniquity  
Of Father Adam wickedly  
Rebelling 'gainst his Maker, when  
In's loins lay all the sons of men.  
Than I among the rest was there,  
And in that sin had equal share!  
O how I am indrencht all o'er,  
In that abominable gore!  
How filth, and sin, and misery,  
And even a Hellish slavery  
Inthrals me now! what hideous crimes  
Grow thick upon me! how betimes  
Each morning doth my naughty heart  
Cast forth its filth! how many a dart  
All the day long do I sand out  
'Gainst Heaven in my rebellion stout!  
As full of poison as the Toad!  
Or Serpents which lie on the road,  
With speckled skin, but venomed head,  
Endangering all that on them tread!   

XXIV. She complains of temptations from sin and Satan.  
Satan still tempts me every day,  
Yea hour and minute, there's no way  
Left open for me to escape  
His fierce assaults, the ugly shape,  
Of some new guilt or other still  
Deform my heart, my mind, and william.  
Not sooner are his evil motions,  
Suggested to me, or his potions  
Of poisonous lusts in's golden cup,  
To my vile senses offered up,  
But I embrace them, and comply  
With his allurements presently.  
Base my affections! base my heart!  
O how the dread of it makes me start!  
To think how dangerous is my case,  
And that the only proper place,  
For such a sinner is to fry;  
In Holl's hot fire eternally.   

XXV. Cries out to God for strength against them, and for a thorough work of ‖ Grace in her heart.  
Thus, thus, she muses, and than prays,  
God would not leave her in these ways  
Of sin and death, O not said she!  
Let God do what he will with me,  
Chastise, afflict, break, bruise, correct;  
So he'll vouchsafe me to direct  
In path of Life, and me translate  
Out of this sinful cursed state,  
In which I now by nature lie,  
And crown me with the dignity  
Of his high favour, mercy, grace,  
And 'cause my feet to run the race  
Of his Commandments, than I  
Nor care to live, nor fear to dye.  
When once sweet influences of Love,  
All melt my heart, drop from above.  
This, this, is all my soul requires,  
O let it burn in these pure fires!  
These Aromaticks! let them give  
Their powerful odours, I shall live  
Best in these flames; O what a change  
Is here! O tell me, is it not strange!  
That she should make such blessed use  
From her friend's Death, thus to produce  
Life in herself! therefore it was  
She joyed so much, as often as  
She spoke thereof, and plainly found,  
God's love to her did more abound,  
In taking of that friend away,  
Than if he had lived to this day.  
Such great good sometimes God intends,  
When he some sharp affliction sends.  
'Twas her own frequent saying too,  
That all things put together do  
Work for the good of those that fear,  
And love God, with an heart sincere.   

XXVI. Her progress in the work of Grace.  
The groundwork thus begun in her  
'Bout four years since, she did bestir  
Herself to carry on the building,  
With precious stones, and costly guilding.  
Her time far spent, she now makes haste,  
And by her good will doth not waste  
One minute more; she will redeem  
The time that's lost, a great esteem  
She puts on every person, thing,  
That helped reform her wandering.  
Now she keeps close to th' good old way,  
Careful not more to go astray,  
But wisely walks with circumspection,  
And often makes a sad reflection  
Upon her former course of life,  
Contending with an holy strife,  
To go the faster unto bliss,  
Nor stopped till come where now she is.   

XXVII. The pains she took for sound knowledge.  
What pains she took fully to know  
Sweet heavenly Truths! how she would go  
From Book to Book! to catechise,  
Herself where the foundation lies.  
In Perkins, Baal, or any other  
That could teach better than other.   

XXVIII. Writes diligently at Church.  
The paper Books, and Sermon notes,  
She left behind, plainly denotes,  
With how much reverend care she did  
Receive God's Word, and wisely hid  
It in her heart; she would repeat  
Choice passages, and made the seat  
Of what she heard her heart to be,  
Moore than her writing Book we see.  
When she came home, she did retire,  
On the Lord's Days, and much inquire  
What she had missed of what was said,  
And when her Notes she over read,  
Soon mended, if they wanting were  
With a devout Religious care.   

XXIX. Seeks blessing upon what she hears by prayer.  
This being done it was not all  
Sh'was want to do, for she would call  
For blessing on't, with bended knees,  
From him whose eye in secret sees.  
Ejaculations from her heart,  
She'd frequently to Heaven dart.  
No time so pleasant as the Night,  
When she might most be out of sight.  
No place by her so much desired,  
As where she might be most retired,  
●●ar from all noise and observation,  
●o pour out her souls warm devotion.  
When she sometimes could not be sound,  
●he'd hid herself, where the sweet sound  
Of her deep sigh, sobs, and cries,  
Might secretly to Heaven rise,  
●nheard of any but his ears,  
Who knew her thoughts, and saw her tears.   

XXX. Hates vain Books, but studies the Bible much.  
Vain wanton Books her soul abhorred,  
As an offence to her dear Lord.  
The Bible was her chiefest Book,  
In which her practice was to look  
And read, and meditate all day,  
As often as she could get away  
From other business; her great care  
Was to grow rich in knowledge there.  
Hard questions sometimes she would put,  
And liked the Answers which best cut  
All knots; she was inquisitive,  
That she her heart as a large hive,  
Might fill with honey combs of Truth,  
On which she sucked thus in her Youth.  
Such Keys she used frequently,  
That opened Wards which easily  
Would not give way without: her mind,  
With heavenly thoughts she thus refined.   

XXXI. What good Books she read, and what was her evening and morning Work.  
The Works of Watson, Shepherd, Love,  
Goodwin, and Spurstow, to improve  
Was her endeavour and delight,  
As much as might be, day and night.  
Some one of these she always kept  
At her Bed's head, and before she slept,  
Did read an hour and sometimes more,  
That laden with a precious store,  
She might take rest, and when her eyes  
First opened, before she began to rise,  
She did revolve what she had read,  
The night before within her Bed.  
While in the morning others slept,  
She meditated, prayed, and wept.   

XXXII. Sins of omission trouble her.  
Sins of omission many times,  
Touched her as much as acted crimes.  
If she were heavy, dead, or dull  
At Holy Duties, it did pull  
Her heart much more with inward grief,  
Than if by hands of wretched Thief  
Her choicest treasures all were lost,  
Wherein was greatest worth and cost.   

XXXIII. Her delight in the Sabbath, and the duties of it.  
When Sabbaths came or Sacrament,  
Her devout soul than strongly went  
To celebrated those blessed seasons,  
With ardent zeal: no carnal reasons  
Prevailed with her, to take her of;  
Nor aching head, nor painful cough   

XXXIV. She sees a need of Christ in all.  
Can ever cool her hot affection,  
Yet still complained of imperfection  
In all her duties, and than cried,  
O woe to me! had not Christ died  
To purify my holy things:  
Thus by her Faith she often brings,  
What Christ had done and suffered too,  
To her own heart; and this she'd do  
Continually, on all occasions,  
When Satan came with his invasions.   

XXXV. She is careful about Christ's pure Worship.  
Pure Doctrine, Worship, Discipline,  
In her souls eye did brightly shine.  
To these her heart was so endeared,  
That their pollutions she much feared.   

XXXVI. She fears her own strength if called to suffering.  
Sighing she said, O how shall I  
Suffer for Christ! him to deny  
How grievous is't! and yet how weak  
Am I to bear! sure it will soon break  
My feeble spirit in bonds to lie,  
When I am called to testify  
The truths I own: the times may come,  
When a fierce cruel Martyrdom,  
May true Believers portion be;  
And if it chance to fall on me,  
What shall I do? I'm full of care,  
Jest I in sufferings loose my share.  
And yet I tremble at the thought  
Of those sad sorrows may be brought  
Upon me, for the Gospel's sake,  
Of which I now profession make.  
However I will learn to trust  
Him whose performances are just,  
His many gracious Promises  
Contain in them great sollaces,  
Which ne'er yet failed, when trusted on,  
And by true faith relied upon.  
Besides I'm much refreshed by  
The thoughts of that good Company,  
Which in their sufferings altogether,  
Will much encourage one another.   

XXXVII. She had many proffers for marriage.  
Many there were sought her good will,  
Rich, handsome, beautiful, but still  
She them refused, she ne'er would Wed,  
Or cared for the marriage Bed,  
Till such a one a Suitor came,  
That felt the love, adored the Name  
Of her dear God: till she could say,  
He was a man could warmly pray,  
And first in Christ's own bosom lay.   

XXXVIII. Her company was loved, and much desired by friends.  
So sweet she was, courteous and kind,  
And in all hearts so much entwined,  
That whosoever knew her would  
Do to the utmost what they could,  
With Father, Mother, to prevail  
For her Converse: they would not fail,  
As often as might be, her to get  
Abroad with them, and scarce would let  
Her return home in many days,  
Desiring rather she always  
Might stay with them. But o the fate!  
That by such means she felt of late!  
For when at a friends house she meets, 
Her sickness unto death, with the occasion of it.   
And lodgeth there, behold damp sheets  
Cling close about her in the Bed,  
At which she waking said, I'm dead:  
And so it proved, alas! for woe!  
At thought on't I'm afflicted so!  
That brinish tears drop from mine eyes,  
My heart with throbs, and inward cries,  
All broken is! what shall I say?  
She's thus untimely snatched away!  
Shall I the careless Maid go blame?  
And tell her what a horrid shame,  
It is, that by her negligence,  
So choice a one is lost from hence?  
Alas! alas! it is no boot,  
She was permitted thus to do't,  
God's own overruling Providence  
Was pleased itself thus to dispense.   

XXXIX. The manner of her sickness, and how grievous.  
What I therefore shall further do,  
Will our sad griefs yet more renew,  
In telling what her sickness was,  
And that therein she lay even as  
Upon a rack, in torments great,  
The pain whereof made her to swea●,  
And us to weep 'bout her bed's side,  
And with our floods raise a full tide.   

XL. Her patience and submission unto God, under all her pains.  
O God O God she often cried,  
And on his Goodness still relied,  
To be supported and preserved,  
Till she with Patience fully served  
His holy Will; 'midst all her grief  
This was to her a great relief,  
To think that still within his hand  
She safely lodged, and his command  
As much obeyed in what she felt,  
As when upon her knees she knelt.  
Not froward word, fell from her lips,  
When tortures wrested hands and hips,  
Convulsive motions, Mother fits,  
New sorrows night and day begets,  
And yet she's silent, 'cause she knows,  
'Twas God alone that sent these throws.   

XLI. A cloud of fear comes, but vanisheth again.  
One time a little fear her seized,  
But presently her heart was eased,  
As careful standers by did found  
By th' sweet expressions of her mind.  
Shall I think God hath me forsaken  
Saith she? since Christ the load hath taken  
Of all my sins; not, I'll not dread  
Nor sin, nor Satan, when I'm dead,  
I doubt not, but in Bliss to be,  
And beatisick Visions see.   

XLII. Her thankfulness when a little eased.  
When God was pleased her to revive  
A little, and make her alive  
Again, as 'twere, from pangs of death,  
These words she uttered at next breath.  
Pray Sister tell me, what's the date  
Of this good day? I'll celebrated  
It's memory, if I longer live,  
And God shall please more time to give.  
Than thee and I'll both strive to be  
Better by far; the world shall see,  
Our business is in grace to grow,  
And hand in hand to Heaven go.   

XLIII. ●he calls for friend's to ●●ke leave of ●hem.  
The last Tuesday i'th'month of June,  
Finding herself much out of tune,  
And that her time began to draw nigh,  
When she undoubtedly must dye,  
Her Father, Mother, Sisters all  
At midnight she thought fit to call,  
Of them to take her solemn leave,  
And so go hasten to receive  
A better life, when this should end,  
As God at this time did intent.   

XLIV. Her speeches ●o them.  
For several hours such exhortation  
She gave them all, to admiration,  
Speeches so grave, so wise, so good,  
And all so plainly understood,  
So sage, so serious, so religious,  
So full of prudence, so ingenious,  
That every word went to the heart  
Of those that heard them, every part  
Of her discourse so profited,  
That all the while their tears were shed  
So much the faster, and the thought  
This precious Life could not be bought  
At any rate, but must be lost  
From all friends here, O how it cost  
Thousands of groans all that night long!  
At every word fell from her tongue.   

XLV. Her Legacies left in memorial of her.  
When she had spoke her mind at large,  
And to all there had given charge,  
Of love, sweet unity, and peace  
After she should have her release  
From hence, than with her Father's leave,  
'Twas her desire each should receive  
Some token from her, to be kept  
By them that round about her wept.  
Her Rings, her Books, her Instruments,  
Her Works, her , her Ornaments,  
Of every sort, she parted so,  
That every one their own might know.   

XLVI. Especially those to the Gentlewomen of the School.  
But among all her Legacies,  
Some of the very best were these.  
To the young Ladies of the School,  
The holy Scriptures Crystal pool  
She did commend, to wash their eyes,  
When they first in the morning's rise.  
By sweet devotions she desired,  
They'd labour to get their hearts fired  
As often as might be, wanton Books  
To throw away, and sober looks  
Bring always when they did attend  
The public Ordinance, and to spend  
Their precious time on the Lord's Day,  
Not in vain dress, but to pray,  
Read, meditate, and so improve  
Those holy hours in purest love  
To heavenly things. Thus far she went,  
And than began to be quite spent.   

XLVII. Her mind is Heaven-ward.  
When a friend asked her how she found  
Herself next day? with a low sound  
She said, I go to Heaven, I  
Now hasten thither, thither fly  
As fast as may be, on the wings  
Of faith and hope, where Angels sings.  
Yet after this she lingered out  
Another full whole week about,  
And some hours more, in torments great,  
Yet not perceived at all to fret  
Against God's hand, but quietly  
Resigned herself in peace to dye.   

XLVIII. She foretells the hour of her Death, which proved accordingly.  
On Monday Morning 'fore she died,  
Two days and half she often cried,  
And than shall my soul be at rest,  
In my Lord's bosom, and be blest.  
She said so, and it proved so,  
As if her Lord was pleased to show  
This secret to her, for at noon  
Next Wednesday, her breath, how soon  
Was't gone? in a weak silent groan,  
And we left mourning all alone!  
You that late tolled her passing-bell,  
May hasten now to ring her Knell.  
She's dead! she's dead! there's no more hope  
Of her Life here, the only Scope  
She aimed at, now she doth enjoy,  
Whilst sore afflictions us annoyed.   

XLIX. She is wholly taken up with thoughts of Christ, and coming to him.  
All she sought was a better Life,  
And to become the Lambs dear Wife.  
His Jewels, Bracelets, righteous Robes,  
His blood, his Spirit, his starry Globes,  
Her eye and heart were eager after;  
The hopes of these filled her with laughter  
Amidst the many screeks and tears,  
She met with from the King of fears.  
Faith, Love, Humility, each grace  
Shined bright in her, the lovely face  
Of her dear Lord when first she spied,  
She cared not than how soon she died.  
That thus adorned she might be bold  
To stand before him, and behold  
Those radiatures that glitter there,  
Where the eternal blisses are.  
How swift her motions were! that thither  
She might come richly laden, whither  
Pure spirits fly, till she had got  
The place where lay her goodly lot.  
How restless was she! therefore flies  
On wings of Angels 'bove the skies,  
Before we thought on't, up she goes,  
In glorious Chariots, where no foes  
Of sin or death molest her more,  
Which wracked her here with pains so sore.   

L. The lamentation over her dead body upon the floor.  
While she lies dead upon the floor,  
How friends stand weeping at the door!  
While she is in her Night clotheses dressed,  
How sweet her smiles are 'bove the rest  
That yet survive! how many kisses  
On her dead face! there's none that misses  
To take their farewell. Oh! how many  
Came crowding in! there was not any  
But longed to see her once again,  
While she above ground did remain.  
What floods of tears there now did meet  
On her pale cheeks, and winding-sheet!  
All eyes about her full of bubbles,  
And all their hearts too, full of troubles.  
They wring their hands, lift up their voice  
Aloud in cries, and mournful noise.   

LIVELY The neighbours lament her loss.  
And now when these sad tidings came  
Abroad i'th' Town, and when the same  
Began to spread the City round,  
And the whole Country. O the sound!  
Of deep fetched sighs that you might hear,  
In every place! how many a tear  
Fell from the eyes of all that knew,  
How great, how sore this loss! more true,  
And general griefs were never known,  
In any age, for such an one.  
She lived desired, lamented died,  
Who loved her now 'twas fully tried:  
Both far and near all England o'er  
She'll be bewailed by thousands more.   

LII. How dutiful she was and tender of her aged Father.  
No Father e'er more dearly loved  
A child; no child yet ever proved  
Moore gracious, dutiful, and tender  
To a dear Father, she would tender  
What e'er to th' utmost she could give,  
To make her Father's comforts live:  
The chief staff of his age she was,  
The greatest stay. Alas! alas!  
What stays are these to lean upon!  
Broken so soon! and so soon gone!   

LIII. Her Funeral solemnity.  
At her sad parting Funeral,  
What numerous eyes were weeping all!  
What aching hearts! what heavy looks!  
What overflowing spreading brooks  
Of surging sorrows! mourning blacks,  
Scarves, Gloves, Wine's given, nothing lacks  
To celebrated the Obsequies  
Of her that thus lamented dyes.  
Great pity 'twas, said old and young,  
As she i'th' room stood them among,  
In Velvet Herse, with Garlands crowned,  
And her Companions weeping round.  
Friends, Neighbours, and acquaintance all  
Came flocking in both great and small,  
To mourn for this rare flower of youth,  
And follow her to the graves mouth.  
At her Interments lamentation,  
So crowded was the Congregation,  
That He the Word did than dispense  
Scarce saw a greater audience,  
On such occasion, in that place:  
'Tis Hackney Church, where her sweet face  
Now hidden lies, covered with dust,  
While her blessed soul among the just  
Sings and triumphs. Well! she is gone,  
What now remains more to be done?  
Though her griefs end, our agonies  
Thus now begin sad Elegies.   

LIV. An Elegy upon her Death.  
Deep sighs! torn hearts! wet eyes! bemoan  
The Mistress of our joys; each groan  
Lament the loss that Ages passed  
Ne'er knew so manifold, make haste  
To drop your Pearls upon her Hearse,  
And 'cause her live in mournful Verse.  
Come Parents dear, weep o'er your child,  
On which you have so often smiled.  
Come Music Masters, hear the tone  
She trils forth in her dying groan.  
Come Ladies lay your Ivory hand  
On her soft skin, a while here stand,  
To see what difference sickness makes  
On fairest beauties, when it takes  
Colour, and freshness quite away,  
As 'twill from all of you one day.  
Come Brethrens, Sisters, Kindred all,  
And see how vain it is to call  
Her back again, she hears no more,  
Now she's arrived at th' other shore.  
Come Strangers which so ravished were  
With many a curious dainty Air,  
That she was want to melodize  
Into your ears, before your eyes.  
Come young ones see what here lies cropped,  
A Rose in 'tis bloom, the Tree is lopped,  
While yet the fruit remained upon it,  
Before it had time to ripen on it.  
Come all her old acquaintances,  
See now in deaths black balances  
What your weight is, when life is gone,  
It may be your own case anon.  
Come Virgins wreathe your flowers about  
Your Garlands, as you carry her out.  
Your turns will come ere long to go,  
The same way too, it must be so.  
Take Patterns from her Virtues rare,  
That you with her in bliss may share.   

LV.  
Mean while, Alas! what shall we say,  
From whom she's now thus fled away?  
The sables of the darkest night  
Take place while she is out of sight,  
The boauteous heaven ne'er shed such beams,  
As slowed from her in golden streams.  
Lustres of Grace outshine the rays  
Of the bright Sun, even at noon days.  
Now these absenting disappear,  
What have we left our hearts to cheer?  
The Garden which she visited,  
No Garden is now she is dead.  
Not Walks, no Arbours, beds of flowers  
Smell sweet, no artificial bowers  
Give us content, now she is gone,  
And we left in them all alone.  
Within doors there's no Company,  
For want of her Society.  
Her single self was more than many,  
Too fill her room up there's not any,  
'Mong our remaining socials left,  
Alas! alas! we are bereft,  
Of such a full Consort in one,  
That all our Musics now are gone.  
Lute, Viol., Song-book, altogether,  
Cannot make up such another.  
Where once her measuring feet did tread,  
Alas! we now our tears do shed,  
And wet the floor, our trembling hearts  
●n sorrowing motions act their parts.  
Not Dances, Voices, Lessons, more,  
We must expect from her; our sore  
Is very grievous! who can tell  
How such strong passions to repel?  
Which in renewed surges rise,  
From our sad hearts and watery eyes.   

LVI. Another Elegy.  
Indeed if she could once again  
Appear as formerly, our pain  
Would soon assuage; her warbling arm,  
Soft touch, sweet voice, would quickly charm  
Our doleful plaints, her Music strains  
Moore cordial were than all the grains  
Of rich Ingredients Doctors give,  
To make their dying Patients live.  
If precious, Powders, Pearls, or Gold  
Can save Life, she had lived till old.  
Not Syrrups, Liquors, Tulips, Gems,  
Can so far sap dry withered stems,  
As to revive them, one cold breath  
Quite kills them, from the mouth of death.  
But stay a while, methinks I hear  
Her rare set melodies so clear,  
As if her own well tuned head,  
At sound thereof risen from the dead.  
Others when neither heart nor life  
Seemed to remain in them, the strife  
Betwixt her hand and Instrument,  
So filled them with a rare content,  
That out of deepest sadness they  
Cheerful and pleasant went away.  
And may not such effects as these  
Give us also a little ease?  
From the same Musics? Alas! no!  
All that now proves but a vain show.   

LVII. What her friends should do now she is gone.  
What once we heard, must hear not more.  
Our business now is to deplore  
What cannot be recalled, and strive,  
To do as she did when alive.  
Pray, Read, Discourse, and Meditate  
Of what concerns our future state.  
This was her work, her greatest joy,  
She counted all the world a toy,  
Compared with this. Her heavenly King  
She longed to go to, longed to sing  
In that loud Chorus, sweeter lays,  
And from her soul tune higher praise,  
Than lungs or fingers here could make,  
Even than when often her head did ache.  
Her Viol-strains, her Vocal trils,  
We ne'er would miss with our good wills,  
Though she was want often to complain,  
She played and sung in no small pain.  
Willing she was at any time,  
To help such hearts, as feign would climb  
Into celestial thoughts, all these,  
In love to Christ, she loved to please.  
Thinking no better use could be,  
Of her sweet Music's harmony.   

LVIII. Her, passage towards Heaven.  
At last when she had run her race  
Allotted here, she speeds apace  
To her dear God, with many a groan  
She cries to him, and makes her moan,  
That weary of this world she'd feign  
Return her spirit to him again.  
And so she did, to Heaven she hied,  
Where now she lives Christ's joyful bride.  
His ornaments are now upon her,  
His glorious eyes now fixed on her,  
Before under her pained head,  
While she lay in her dying bed,  
His arms enclosed her; but now  
He hath fulfilled his marriage vow,  
And taking her up to his Throne,  
Gives thousand smiles for every groan.  
With new embraces, sollaces  
He kindly now her compasses.  
In stead of this world's clamorous noise,  
Much sweeter Music feeds her joys.  
Her songs are now all Hallelujah,  
To her eternal King Jehovah.  
O thither let our souls desire  
In divine ardours now expire.   

LIX. A review of her.  
But shall I leave her thus? Ah no!  
Methinks I cannot let her go.  
Methinks I see her in the Walks  
About the Garden, where she talks  
With her own soul, unto her Lord  
Of those sweet things which in his word  
She than and there had newly read,  
And therewith her heart fully fed.  
Methinks I see her in the room,  
Where she was daily want to come,  
At meal times still, with some good Book,  
Which always she along with her took,  
Within her hand, under her arm,  
That she her precious soul from harm  
Might safely keep, while thus employed,  
All her life time until she died.  
Methinks I see her in the front,  
'Mong the young Ladies she was want  
To lead up, on the dancing days,  
When friends and strangers came always;  
Methinks I see her take the Viol,  
That such as would ●ave no denial,  
She might in great civility,  
With her sweet Music satisfy.  
Methinks I see her, here and there,  
Above, below stairs, every where,  
With pleasant look, with cheerful eye,  
And kind salutes, still passing by.  
Alas! alas! shall I not more  
See her, as I was want before!  
She's gone! she's gone! what shall I say?  
We must all follow the same way.  
Who knows how soon? we must all come,  
As well as she to the cold tomb.   

LX. An exhortation to repentance, and preparation for death  
Shall we than any more delay  
Speedy repentance? since each day,  
Each hour, each minute, may cut of  
Our thread of life? since one small cough  
May quickly waste us? or consumption  
Soon end us? Oh! let no presumption  
Possess the healthy, lusty, young,  
Though ne'er so well, though ne'er so strong,  
In flower of Age, in heat of youth,  
In vigour, freshness, yet how doth  
Death seize on them with his cold blast;  
And 'cause them fall at's foot as fast  
As leaves from Trees? fears he to blow  
On any mortal wight? ah no!  
When their time's spent, and hour is come,  
To others they must yield their room.  
What do we talk of weeks, days, hours?  
When we can't say one moments ours;  
The distance 'twixt our life and death,  
used any more than one short breath?   

LXI. Not possible exemption from death to any, how good or great soever.  
The richest ransoms cannot give  
The greatest Dons the lest reprieve.  
Not heaps of gold, no Counsels deep,  
Can any one from a grave keep.  
Not honours, beauties, richeses, wealth,  
Wisdom or learning can give health,  
Or save ones life a moment more,  
Than was appointed long before.  
As goodness, so nor greatness can  
Prolong the time of our short span.  
Dukes, Nobles, Earls, Kings, Princes, Queens  
As well as others, death's black screens  
Shall surely visit, the same shades  
They must pass through, same dismal glades  
Shall seize on them too, they shall have  
Experience of the darksome grave.  
Where smell, nor colour in their dust  
Shall make a difference, they all must  
Be equal there; Sceptres and Spades  
Are much as one, where death invades.  
Giants and Babes are both alike  
To him, when his keen darts do strike.  
He gives to all a conquering charge,  
And in that war there's no discharge.  
Monarches and Beggars the same state  
Have after long, or later date.  
Nor Robes, nor Crowns, nor splendid Throne  
Fence Royal hearts from dying groans.  
Not Kingdoms, Armies, Empires can  
Here privilege the mightiest man.  
Than midst great banquets, sports, and pleasure  
Should not the greatest Prince sinned leisure,  
To meditate on this sad fate,  
Which him also early or late,  
Most certainly will seize upon?  
He ne'er grows wise till this be done.   

LXII. The exhortation to prepare for death reinforced.  
This being so, and needs must be  
Without prevention, as we see,  
Shall we remain still in the deep  
Of sins security; and sleep  
Ourselves to death? shall we not rise  
With quickest speed, and rub our eyes?  
That we may clearly see the way,  
Where we were want to go astray,  
●t to avoid? and choose the road,  
That they went in, whose blessed abode,  
●s now in Heaven? if we do not  
Thus here, even as our bodies ●ot  
●n slime and filth, our souls also  
Laden with sin, to Hell must go.   

LXIII. How to become fit to dye, and the fruit of it.  
●hould we not than be always ready  
When death us calls? and with a steady  
Hand of true faith take a strong hold  
●n Christ? that so we may be bold  
Death's face to look on without fear,  
When e'er he shall to us appear?  
Ghastly and grim his visage is,  
Yet he shall sand us up to bliss.  
His kill darts, his cruel stings  
ne'er hurt the good, no terror brings.  
Faith, Holiness, Sincerity,  
Makes death a precious Legacy  
To gracious hearts; it them transmits'  
Thither where each believer sits  
Surrounded with most glorious grace,  
Reflected from his Saviour's face.  
And where now she's in high content,  
Whom we below here thus lament.   

LXIV. A serious exhortation to the Gentlewomen, that either are or have been of the School.  
Now you young Ladies of the School,  
Jest your affections grow too cool.  
Sat down, consider well your case,  
Have any of you firmer place  
Than she? in this world's tottering frame  
Are not you all o'th' very same  
Mould as she was? may not your lot  
Be th' very next to her? are not  
The same infirmities in you?  
Same weakness, frailties, causes too  
Of sin and death? have you exemption  
Moore than the rest? can a redemption  
Be gained for you more than other,  
By power, or favour, 'bove another?  
Tell me, what is the privilege  
That you can for your selves allege?  
Are you young? handsome? beautiful?  
Can not she say as much to th' full  
As most of you? have you rare parts?  
Or are you skilled in curious Arts  
In Works? or Music's? any thing?  
That's excellent? can you play? sing?  
Beyond all human expectation,  
Even unto greatest admiration?  
All this she did, and yet we see,  
Her under stroke of death to be.  
Have you more honours? richeses? wealth?  
A greater share in strength or health?  
Well! be it so; will this avail  
To give you rescue? will death fail  
One moment of his time? or will  
He make long stay for you, until  
You ready are; at your request?  
And so spare you above the rest?  
What warrant have you sored? will he  
By greatest offers bribed be?  
Or will he at your stern command  
Forbear a while, and make a stand?  
If this would 'cause him not to strike,  
Or disappear, than sure 'tis like,  
●or great, nor small, rich, poor would dye,  
●ut either would command or buy  
●ife for themselves, and still renew  
●r words, or gifts, as dangers grew  
From their diseases, or old age,  
What e'er they had, they'd still engage  
New sums, for a new term of years,  
To save them from the King of fears.  
But let's not be deceived, Alas!  
Such fine expedient never was  
Yet practised, nor never will,  
But we undoubtedly shall still  
Found that black fate irrevocable,  
Still like himself, inexorable.  
If Father's sighs, or Mother's groans,  
If dear Relations doleful moans,  
If friends bewailing round about  
Can keep out sickness, drive death out;  
If brinish tears or lamentations,  
Or the most fervent invocations;  
If the Physician's care and skill,  
Or richest Cordials in the bill  
That he prescribed, could have prevailed  
Her to preserve, we had not failed  
Of our desire, she had not died,  
Nor we so bitterly have cried  
For our sad loss; what than remains?  
But that with all your might and pains  
You hasten, and yourselves apply  
To live so, as not fear to dye.  
She you a lively pattern gave,  
So serious was she, and so grave,  
So humble, holy, heavenly;  
So much in duties constantly,  
So little minded she the pleasures,  
The house afforded, or earth's treasures;  
So weaned from this world below,  
So fast she did to glory go;  
And all this daily in your sight,  
Early i'th' morning, late at night;  
That if you do not imitate  
These her rich qualities, your fate  
Will be most lamentable; you  
Of all the rest that most her knew,  
Take heed you do not carelessly  
Let slip the opportunity,  
That yet you have, the precious season  
Of grace that yet remains, what reason  
Have you to look for happiness,  
Unless you practise Holiness?  
As late she did, while yet alive.  
Sweet Ladies, I beseech you strive  
To be like her, get her renown,  
That you in Heaven may wear a Crown,  
As she now doth. O give sweet rest  
To Jesus Christ betwixt your breast.  
Let him your bosom-jewel be,  
He was to her; I feign would see  
You all inflamed with the same love,  
That she to this her Lord above  
Had always burning in her heart;  
O labour here to act her part.  
Her Legacy do not forget,  
Which she among those jewels set  
She valued most, and left to you,  
Her memory sometimes to renew.  
Prayed she in secret? do you go  
In secret too, and pray you so.  
Did she much love to read and hear  
Gods holy Word? and many a tear  
Shed from a broken heart? did she  
Always with God delight to be?  
In holy thoughts; in sweet Communion,  
In near acquaintance, strictest union?  
O that I could persuade you all  
Unto the same! o that the call  
Which her example gives you, might  
So work upon you in the sight,  
Of all that know you, that it may  
Occasion all your friends to say,  
Though her removal be your cross,  
Yet 'tis your gain, and not your loss.   

LXV. A particular advice to all near Relations.  
Where dearest love, most sweet content  
Have lost their object, where the bend  
Of strong affections want the scope  
They used to aim at, where the hope  
Of some rare, choice delight doth fail,  
And where no comforts can prevail,  
To quiet and compose the mind,  
The only remedy I found,  
Is presently to hasten from  
The mud-dryed stream; and haste to come  
To the sweet fountain of all good,  
Where it will best be understood,  
How deep our sorrows are, how great  
Our unknown troubles; what's the heat  
Of our inordinate desires,  
And those hot scorching burning fires  
That flame within us? O let's there  
Drench deep, refresh our souls, take care  
To quench our droughts, thence take reliefs  
That may give ease to all our griefs.  
A fountain 'tis so calm, so cool,  
So healing too, a silver pool  
So clear, so fresh, so pleasant taste  
It gives to all, that we but waste  
Our precious time while we refuse  
It's dainty streams; o let us choose  
This safe, sure help, above all others  
That Brethrens, Sisters, Fathers, Mothers,  
Can us afford, in our distress.  
All put together give much lesle  
Support or comfort, one small drop  
From this high spring, down from the top  
Of that gold Mountain where it runs,  
Gives more refreshments than whole tuns  
Of these low muddy waters here,  
Even when they seem to run most clear.  
If we than haste to wash, bath, drink  
Of this sweet font, we ne'er shall sink  
I'th' Sea of our own passions wide,  
But bear up ' 'gainst the strongest tide  
Of sorrows, while this is the helm  
Of our hopes, what can overwhelm  
Or drown us? we shall never split  
Our Ship with shelves, or sands, or hit  
Against hard rocks, no boisterous blasts,  
Or surging storms shall hurt our masts.  
Where doleful plaints immoderate are,  
And endless, these aloud declare  
We loved too much what we lament  
In such excess, and must repent  
Of this great sin, shall we not rest  
In what God doth, as ever best?  
Shall we not suffer him fulfil  
His own alwise and sovereign will?  
Are we so angry 'cause the flower  
Is cropped by him, who hath the power  
To take his own when e'er he please?  
What though we pled such things as these?  
Ah! 'twas a flower, so sweet, so fair,  
So beautiful, so choice, so rare,  
A flower we loved to look upon  
With great delight, that flower alone,  
Which we rejoiced in most of all,  
Above the rest on the round ball.  
Welled may be so; perhaps we smelled  
Too much unto't, perhaps we felt  
Our hearts too much engaged, our hand  
Too much upon't, our eye to stand  
Upon this flower, and there to poor  
On the fine streaked colours more,  
Than we should do; how many a flower  
Have we often spoiled in one short hour,  
With our warm hand, and our hot breath,  
Have we not withered it to death?  
Apes hug their young and loose them so,  
When we in our great folly go  
The same way too, is't any wonder,  
If the wise God doth put asunder  
Us and our comforts? let's be wise  
At last, o let us now advice  
What our great duty is, surely  
'Tis to be silent, not ask why  
God hath done this? when he consumes  
Man for his sin, can all his fumes  
Or frets within give any ease?  
Or 'cause the hand of God to cease  
From the lest stroke? ah no! how vain  
Is't? and how sinful to complain?  
Shall sorry man thus with his Maker  
Contend so fiercely? be partaker  
Of so great guilt, and not submit?  
But still remain in's sullen fit,  
If we continued to do so,  
May it not bring some greater blow  
Down quick upon us? let's Take heed  
Jest God in his great wrath proceed  
Us more to punish; we should rather  
Seek to found him our tender Father,  
By humble, patiented, childlike fear,  
Let us adore him and revere  
His holy Name. He's a good God  
If we please him, his very rod  
All dipped in honey shall relieve  
And comfort give, when we most grieve.  
As for our friend that now is gone,  
Our dear Relation we bemoan,  
So much, so long, let us rejoice,  
That though no more we hear her voice  
'Mongst us poor mortals, yet she's where  
Much better friends, Relations are.  
She sings much sweeter tunes than ever,  
She plays unwearied strains that never  
Shall have an end, her aching head  
Now aches no more, her restless bed  
Pains her no more, her cries and groans  
Are all turned to melodious tones;  
Her cares, her griefs, her brinish tear  
Are now all lost, and all her fears  
Are vanished quite, she's laid to rest  
In her Lord's bosom, there's a nest  
Of such strong comforts she ne'er knew.  
So fresh, so springing up a new,  
That if we loved her, we must needs  
Rejoice to think what she there feeds  
Upon for ever, what sweet smiles  
She lives among? and what high piles  
Of wealth and store she there enjoys?  
While we remain still in the noise  
Of a loud, clamerous, roaring world,  
Where we from toil to toil are hurled  
Tossed, vexed, tormented more and more  
With turmoils, crosses, troubles sore,  
All sorts of sins, temptations, crimes  
Still us annoy i'th' best of times,  
We e'er yet met with: every kind  
Of wants, diseases, griefs of mind,  
Solicit us, we ne'er are quiet,  
Nor ne'er shall be, till the same diet  
She now feeds on, be ours also.  
Oh! thither let's make haste to go  
In our affections first, and than  
At our last dissolution, when  
God shall appoint, mean while let us  
Be in deaths often, for we best thus  
Befriend ourselves, by frequent sights  
Of Death's black face, do cause the frights  
Thereof to cease; familiar talk  
With a Death's head in every walk,  
'Midst all our mirths and banquet,  
If we discern deaths glimmerings,  
If in our gardens and our bowers,  
And our converse among sweet flowers,  
Still we with death acquainted are,  
And for his darts always prepare,  
It ne'er shall take us suddenly,  
Nor yet found us unfit to dye.   

LXVI. Upon the words of the ●●xt, 1 Cor. 22. Death 〈◊〉 yours.  
Now in the close of all I'll next,  
Tell you the seasonable Text,  
The Reverend Doctor pleased to take,  
And did a useful Sermon make  
At her Interments. Words were these,  
Sweet Death is yours. Death gives you ease,  
That Death which all Believers dye,  
And by which though their Bodies lie  
In slimy Valleys of the grave,  
Yet those same filthy slimes they have  
So sweetened by Christ's rich perfume,  
(His odours sure will ne'er consume)  
That there they lie as if in beds  
Of fragrant Roses, he that sheds  
Salt tears upon them doth but mingle  
Bitter with sweet; there's no one single,  
Not, nor yet compound smell that can  
Match th' Aromaticks of that man,  
In's very grave, that dies a Saint,  
His Sepulchre needs no rich paint.  
Though what lies there all putrid be,  
Though spoiled in the fine symmetry  
Of every part, yet I dare say  
That at the Resurrection day  
That dust shall blossom; a new flower  
Shall bud and blow from thence; that power  
That urned it there, with better scent  
Shall sweetened, and make redolent.  
Most costly odours never gave  
So rich a scent as that shall have.  
This very dust, is dust of Gold,  
Bought with vast sums, can ne'er be told.  
Christ's own heart blood, that precious thing  
Was all paid for the purchasing  
This very dust; this rotten mould  
Blessed Angels one day shall behold  
Quickened again, immortalised,  
With Christ's own body similized  
As vile as 'tis, splendours of Glory  
Shall brighten it, the highest story  
Of bliss it shall be mounted to,  
So high, so very high, that you  
Shall see the twinkling starry globes  
Beneath this dust, the costly robes  
It shall be vested with outshine  
The Sun at Noon, all beams combine,  
When this dry dust unites again,  
To fix upon it, and remain  
In their full lustres. Purity  
Most incorrupt, agility  
Most quick and active, than shall be  
The new raised bodies property.  
If thus this casket as before,  
Shall be embroidered all o'er  
With richer things than Gems or Gold,  
Moore than empearled. We may be bold  
To think the jewel lately penned  
Within it much more Orient.  
That Diamonds all glittering Angles  
Moore sparkling are than all the spangles  
We elsewhere s●●. The difference must  
Be vastly great betwixt this dust  
And that which quickened it: the glory  
As we do found by sacred story,  
Which hath a reference to the tomb  
And fleshly part, is yet to come.  
But now the Nobler part, the mind,  
If we consider well, we found,  
Is in possession presently,  
When it doth from its body fly.  
Next moment is it not transposed  
From Earth to Heaven? and reposed  
I'th' bosom of sweet rest and peace?  
Hath it not gained a full release?  
From sins? temptations? miseries?  
From all sorts of calamities?  
Hath it not left a world behind,  
In which we nothing else can found,  
But vanities and sore vexations,  
With thousand thousand molestations?  
Hath it not blisses now, and store  
Of such high joys it ne'er knew before?  
Is't not enrobed, enthroned, encrowned?  
With brighter glories, circled round  
With lustres more intense by far  
Than any in those orbs that are  
Now visible to human eyes?  
Doth not Christ's own sweet Vision rise  
Into imperial culminations,  
Of unapproached coruscations?  
What is the spangled Canopy  
Compared with this bright fulgency?  
Seated in this high chair of State  
Doth not the glorious soul now hate  
Sins snares below? this more and clay  
Which here 'twas clogged with th'other day?  
Doth it not now with scorn behold  
This our contemptuous dirty mould?  
Is not the very dust it treads  
Now made of Stars? are not the beds  
Where now it takes repose the same,  
Which Christ himself longed till he came  
Unto, when he his life had shed  
And for poor sinners to death bled?  
While thus in goodly dignity  
It sits aloft, sublime, and high,  
While Angellike it is arrayed,  
And all its golden beams displayed  
Before its Sovereign's beauteous face,  
Spouse of his heart, and of his Grace  
The large replenished subject is,  
And reigns thus in eternal bliss:  
While 'tis bedewed, embalmed, o'errun  
With streams from this ne'er setting Sun,  
While all sweet influential Powers  
And virtues down upon it showers,  
While Union, Vision, Joy and Rest,  
Peace, Light, and Glory makes it blest,  
While his love warms, melts, and inflames  
The soul, while all the pregnant names  
By which all future good is shown,  
Unto this blessed soul are known,  
While it partakes, sucks, feeds upon  
All this, as if it self alone  
Enjoyed it all, and this for ever,  
Must keep it always, loose it never.  
Tell me I pray what is thy thought  
Of that sweet death such things hath wrought  
For this raised soul? what Legacy  
Moore rich could well be given by  
Him, that by death gives such a life,  
So full of bliss, so free from strife?   

LXVII. The character of a Believer's death.  
These things considered, now I shall  
Proceed with Truth sweet death to call,  
A silver bridge that passeth o'er  
All good souls to the other shore.  
A golden key made to unlock  
The gates of Glory to Christ's Flock,  
To open Wardrobes, Treasuries,  
Where all rich stores and jewels lies.  
A sweet sleep in perfumed bed  
Where just men rest their wearied head.  
An Officer that gives possession  
To him that makes sincere profession  
Of all his hopes and expectations  
With full complete remunerations.  
Accomplisher of his desires,  
And what by true Faith he requires.  
Performer of sweet Promises,  
That easeth of all grievances.  
Remover of his cares and fears,  
Answers all prayers, wipes of all tears.  
That turns the seed into its crop,  
Rich grace into its gallant top  
Of Glory; roots to full-blown flowers.  
Griefs drops into the golden showers  
Of Joy; that crowns the Conqueror  
Who fought for Christ, the laborour  
In Wine-press of afflictions great,  
Rewards his sufferings, sorrow, sweated  
Which he with patience underwent,  
Self-abnegation, and content.  
A tight Ship that through surging Sea  
Bears a true Christian quite away,  
From Rocks and quicksands to his port,  
Which he seeks after, that strong fort  
Which men and devils too cannot  
Or hurt, or batter, with their shot.  
The ladder by which up we climb  
To th' place not measured out by time.  
The Midwife of a purer birth;  
An Inlet to the sweetest mirth;  
That to the Bridegroom gives his Bride,  
Knits knots not more to be untied  
Betwixt them, puts the glittering Crown  
Upon her, and the sumptuous Gown  
Of needlework in Ophir Gold,  
The garment which ne'er waxeth old.  
That with August inauguration,  
Seats her in highest installation  
'Mong those bright mansions which before  
Prepared were, and evermore  
Stand firmly fixed. That dwelling place  
'Mong beams which from a Saviour's face  
Created whole myriads of blisses  
Perpetually, and never misses.  
If this be all the alteration  
That death makes by a separation  
Of soul and body for a space  
Till both meet in so high a place,  
Shall we not count it our best friend,  
That brings us to so brave an end?    

ACROSTIGKS.  

I.  
S orrows how great! How fast they come  
U 'pon our hearts! how burdensome!  
S ighs, sobs, griefs, tears, most bitter moans  
A re our food now! more deep fetched groans  
N e'er came from any; we are left   

P as'st remedy; this sudden theft  
E for surpriseth where he can  
R ich, poor, small, great, there is no man  
W hate're he be must look to scape  
I 'tis kill stroke; upon his nape  
C rule assaults will give their blow  
H is life to end before they go.   

II.  
S o'er grief must needs afflict us when  
U ntimely death the best of men  
S natcheth away, when Virgins young  
A re cropped i'th' bud, and placed among  
N ight- sepulchres; when we do see  
N ewe blossomed Roses scattered be  
A t deaths black foot: may not we say?   

P itty, o pity us! we pray  
E specially since our sad griefs  
R eturn so fast, and no reliefs  
W ill ease our heavy sinking hearts,  
I n midst of our most doleful smarts.  
C ome Lord, true grace, peace, comfort give  
H ear us, give answer, while we live.   

III.  
S he's blest no doubt, now she is gone  
U unto her Lord; Him, him alone  
S he most desired, and loved to meet  
A s Mary did, where his blessed feet  
N ewe tidings brought, of such sweet peace  
N one knew before; she'd never cease  
A t any time to labour after   

P art of those toys, that fill with laughter  
E ternally; where she might found  
R est, Pleasures, Blisses for her mind:  
W here she might sing above the skies  
I n sweeter notes new melodies.  
C hrist had her heart, his bosom she  
H o'th' now got her repose to be.    


SUSANNA PERWICH. Anagram I sin's WAN CAEAR UP.  
IS SIN WAN? let's CHAR UP our hearts  
'Tis struck dead by Christ's own keen darts.  
Though it leave mortals, pale, WAN, dead,  
Yet 'twas it self first conquered.  
Our WAN looks shall revive again,  
Let's CHEER UP; when Christ begins to reign  
Sin lives no more: welled may look WAN  
When it lies sprawling, and ne'er can  
Get up again: its deadly wound  
Admits no cure. How sweet's the sound  
Of this good news unto our ears!  
With how great joy our hearts it CHEERS!  
Doth she CHEER UP? is her base sin  
Turned to rich Grace? her drossy tin  
Into pure gold? Any do●● WAN looks  
To beauties? do joyed p●ea●●●● brooks  
Fill her with a Felicity  
Ineffable, Eternally▪  
Let us CAEAR UP too, may not we  
Hope for the same as well as she?  
Not doubt we may, if we but live,  
As she did us example give.  
Than we (as she) may hope not more  
To SIN or look WAN as before.   

SUSANNA PERWICH. Anagram II. PURCHASE SWAN-IN.  
SWANS sing most sweetly when they die,  
Saints do the like most usually.  
But what's the IN such SWANS as these  
Take harbour in with well turned lays?  
Is't not bright Heaven, that blissful port,  
The chiefest of all Inns of Court?  
Fair lodgings there were furnished  
For our sweet Songster that is dead.  
Dovelike she lived, Swanlike she died,  
And Phenix-like to Heaven flyed,  
From that low moorish River here  
She raised with many a brinish tear.  
This Heavens SWAN-IN she therefore sought  
Of whom, and for what it might be bought.  
And when at last st●●●●d ●derstood  
No other price 〈◊〉 Christ's heart blood  
Can PURCHASE it, ●he than made bold  
From thence to fetch huge heaps of gold  
And paid down for't, whereby she made  
A gainful PURCHASE: there's no trade  
Like this with Christ to buy and cell  
This her experience knew full well.  
So this brave PURCHASE heavens SWAN-IN  
She makes, and now she dwells therein.   

SUSANNAH PERWICHE, Anagram III. AH! IC heavens PURE SUN. 
AH! I C see now (late dim halfmoon)  
Bright heavens PURE SUN in'ts glorious Noon.   
MOon-like before my squalid motions  
Swelled all my banks with brinish lotions.  
Broad streams, high tides flowed and reflowed,  
So that huge Vessels might have rowed  
I'th' lowest waters, my griefs made  
So deep no foot therein could wade.  
But now methinks I look more blithe  
Now I'm got in conjunction with  
My blissful SUN and source of light  
My day's now come, my darksome night  
Is gone and passed; my cold moist drops  
Are all dried up: I'm on the tops  
Of spicy Hills: Olympian beams  
Sand rolling out such flaming streams  
As me ingulf; I'm circled round  
With glomerations which abound  
Where shades were want: black miry earth  
've changed for HEAVEN by a new birth.  
Death killed me not, but gave a life  
Above all sorrow, sin, and strife.  
What wisdom is't on earth to stay,  
For any that get HEAVEN may?  
Who would not turn his dross to Gold?  
Pebbles to pearls? his dirty mould  
To all-tralucent glittering beams?  
Foul muds into PURE Crystal streams?  
His pricking thorns to softest downs?  
His clods to stars? crosses to Crowns?  
Who would not change bitter for sweet?  
Vile gall for honey? with running feet  
Haste quick away to that brave place,  
Where he may see in's Saviour's face  
Ten thousand smiles, joys, beauties, blisses,  
And thence receive millions of kisses  
Sweeter by far, than any Nectar;  
Which for our tears is an Elixir  
That turning them to silver balls,  
Stills all our groan, cries and brawls?  
I'm blind to earth now I Csee HEAVEN  
I'll feed not more on sins sour leaven.  
In stead of rags, I here wear Robes,  
And under feet tread spangling Globes.  
Here I walk round from Tower to Tower,  
And pass along from Bower to Bower.  
Here Angels sing, there Cherubins,  
Arch-Angels here, there Seraphins.  
I stand and listen in a gaze,  
I hear and see what doth amaze  
My ravished soul. Dominions high  
Here sit enthroned, and there doth fly  
A winged Chorus. Melodies  
To what shrill mounted strains they rise!  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah,  
How they chant to great Jehovah!  
Lutes, Viols, Harps, Cytherns, Gettars  
Compared with these, o what harsh jars  
Do they sand forth! and what sad lours  
Sat on the looks of fairest flowers,  
Colours, or beauteous faces here  
Compared with the bright objects there!  
Visions I see incomparable,  
Rare tunes I hear unutterable.  
Fast am I held by ears and eyes,  
Yet mine imagination flies  
Farther and farther; therefore I  
Away with speediest motions hie  
To view where th' mighty Potentates  
And all the rest o'th' glorious states  
Do reign and rule; where all the Powers  
And Principalities down showers  
Their more than golden lustres; where  
The several Heavenly places are  
I read of in that holy Word,  
First did the knowledge me afford  
Of these rare things: but most of all  
I view the Seat Imperial,  
Where heavens PURE SUN with glittering rays  
Sits, and his Majesty displays  
With most corruscant emanations,  
Commanding lowliest adorations  
From highest Powers. O what pure lights  
Doth he transfund! what dazzling sights  
Gives he! 'tis true all Heaven o'er  
I see high Thrones, myriads, and more:  
Yet all these are but th' glimmerings, he  
Sheds from his own dread effulgency.  
All Crowns Vibrat from his great Crown;  
Whole Thrones from his great Throne drop down;  
Not single beams, but Suns, whole Suns  
From this PURE SUN still streaming runs.  
As sparks from huge great diamonds fall  
While cut in numerous Angles all:  
Or as Gold Oar from mighty Mountains,  
Rowl in small sands through silver fountains.  
The Heaven of heavens shyves in his face,  
He brightens Glory it self: the place  
Where he's enthroned all flaming is,  
So ever radiantizing 'tis,  
That were it not refracted to  
Created eyes, it would undo  
The boldest Angels to behold  
In glimpse not a minute old  
The splendours of't, in one strait line  
So unapproached is't in its shine.  
O glorious object! what intense  
And condensed pleasures fetch I thence!  
will't not me prove a very sot,  
If I all ravished should not  
Break out in wonders? therefore now  
Without all blame you'll me allow  
To joy that my half-Moon's thus drowned  
I'th' Ocean lustres me surround;  
And as one wrapped up in a Trance,  
Wondering my wonders still t'advance,  
And say, Ah! I Csee with my own eye,  
Bright heavens PURE SUN eternally.    

EPITAPH.  
HEre Beauties, Odours, Music's lie,  
To show that such rare things can dye.  
Weep Passenger, weep, sigh, and groan,  
When was e'er such another known?  
From Heaven she came with Melodies,  
And back again to Heaven she flies.   


Here follow certain Copies of Verses, composed by some of the friends of the Deceased. In memory of that eminently Virtuous, his much honoured Cousin, Mistress Susanna Perwich.  
ANd what! is death of late so mealed mouthed grown  
As to sleight courser, and to feed on none  
But nature's choicest dishes? must her heart  
Needs feel the point of his all-conquering dart?  
Can neither Beauty, Virtue, him provoke  
To hold his hand from this sad fatal stroke?  
Can they have done't, than certainly we may  
Conclude that she had lived still to this day.  
'Tis no Hyperbole to say her mind  
Others in rarest ex'lencies outshined.  
The Virtues which elsewhere lay scattered,  
Within her breast were all concentered.  
But why do I thus stammer out her worth?  
There needs an Angel's tongue to set it forth.  
Y●t now she's gone; let not her dear friends weep,  
〈◊〉 she's not dead, but only fallen asleep;  
〈◊〉 her rejoice, that God them honoured so,  
●●●h a rich gift upon them to bestow.  
With whom we leave her, and shall add but this,  
In heavenly joys her soul now solaced ;  
Warbling out sweetest Anthems 'bove the skies,  
Not such as are found in the Lythurgies.  
Well! what remains, but this one wish, that we  
Who stay behind, may be as good as she?  
S. R.   

Some serious thoughts let forth for my deceased Friend, Mistress Susanna Perwich.  
O help me Muses, you that softly sing  
In solitaries, bring me on your wing,  
Where grief may melt me, and my tears extend,  
To touch, each loyal heart that means to spend  
Some select mournings, that our lives may be  
The perfect Emblems of true Piety.  
We know our frailties, and we can't express  
It more to purpose (mortals) see this Hearse  
Whereon doth lie, the body of our Friend,  
A soul too good, too great, too soon to end;  
And yet her star is not extinct, for she  
Triumphs in glory over misery.  
What mean than thus our thoughts to mourn, o● why  
Do they complain? will still my watery eye  
Dissolved be in tears? stop, stop, not more  
Of thy distilling; peace, 'tis time, give o'er.  
Lift up thy downcast senses, see her set  
In beams of brightness, labour thou to get  
To her preferment, and thou mayst be sure  
Thou wilt exchange thy dross for what is pure▪  
Call home thy dunghill cogitations, be  
An imitator of her charity.  
Abound in goodness, and let love invite  
Thee to her pattern, for her sole delight  
Was to be pious, courteous, sweet to all;  
Not vainly proud, nor subject to have gall.  
Free to forgive the greatest wrongs, and she  
Never took pleasure in much jollity;  
But wisely pondered in her serious cell  
'Twas best becoming wisdom for to devil  
Within its proper walls, and there to be  
Protected from injurious falsity.  
In sum, her life was such as might have been  
A Nautick-card, to guide the best of men.  
I. H.   

Upon that incomparable Lady, Mistress Susanna Perwich, the miracle of her Age, for all Excellencies, both Spiritual and Temporal.  
WAat ails my thoughts? I'm haunted so with grief,  
That to my mind nothing can yield relief.  
●hat do I ask the reason? it is plain,  
●a'n't every face an Elegiac strain?  
●reat sorrow can't be smothered, in each eye  
appear the sad complaints of misery.  
What are we mortals now at last bereft  
●ven of that little which the Fall had left?  
What is that Lady struck by death's keen darts,  
●n whom concentred all the heavenly Arts?  
●hus sad were mortals, when Astrea flew  
●o Heaven, and bid the cursed earth adieu.  
●'m naught but storms within, they'll not be penned,  
My heart must break, or I must give them vent.  
Come than my Muse, try if raised by her fall,  
Thou canst her image to my mind recall:  
Her beauty and rare features I'll forbear,  
Jest thinking on them, I should surfeets there.  
I'll boast not of her blood, though in her face,  
Both Lancaster and York had equal place:  
But she was Music's Masterpiece, a wonder,  
O that I could but run division on her.  
What means this sudden stroke? did Pallas fe●  
(Music's great Goddess) to be challenged here  
In her own Art, and loose that glorious name,  
Which hath so sounded in the trump of fame?  
Or wasn't the heavenly Lyra sweet alone,  
To make a Consort? is she thither gone?  
When hospitality out of England went,  
She's said to have yielded up her breath in Kent;  
So Music in her, whom we now bemoan,  
I fear will prove t'ave given its last groan.  
If she unseen did sing, I wished to be  
All ear; if after that I her did see,  
My wish was changed, I feign would be all eye,  
That so I might her glorious gifts espy.  
Sure nature framed her for this intent,  
That of their wishes men might still repent.  
Orpheus' his well tuned soul in her did live,  
If to Pythagoras we may credit give;  
He made the eared Oaks dance to his lays,  
And duller stones the walls of Thebes to raise.  
But what is more, she stony Rocks could move,  
Rough tempers mild after her play would prove.  
But if you look on skill in Music's Art,  
What is most rare, she had a well-tuned heart:  
For although others the spheres harmony  
Can never hear, because o'th' noise and cry  
Of worldly things, yet sure she this had heard,  
Her soul to Heaven was so often reared:  
She ne'er was so well pleased with Music's airs,  
As when she risen to Ela in her prayers:  
'Twas far more pleasure to her, and content,  
To tune her heart, than tune her Instrument.  
Those rarities that in her breast did lie,  
She clothed all with rich Divinity.  
When the three Goddesses did each contend  
For th' golden Ball, Parts did recommend  
It unto Venus; but she unto Grace,  
On th' contrary did give the chiefest place;  
For though those earthly Sirens did their part;  
That each might gain that golden Ball, her heart;  
Yet she did stop her ears to all their strife,  
And gave it unto Christ, the Lord of Life.  
She was our Phoenix, but this breaks my heart,  
Her ashes can't another Life impart:  
But is she dead? and did not every thing,  
Rush into its first Chaos once again?  
For since the harmony o'th' world is gone,  
I expect nothing but confusion.  
Philosophy now fails, that argument  
It used to prove the Heavens are permanent,  
In here's confuted, for her perfect form,  
Can not discharge her body from the worm.  
E. B.   

UPON  
Mistress  
Sure there are mysteries hid in this Name,  
Under it's comprehended so great fame.  
Search well the Holy Language, Rabbins all,  
And see what mean the lerters radical.  
ne'er were a Females parts improved so high,  
Nature in her did meet with industry:  
And every letter in this Name sure will  
Prove Hieroglyphics of her various skill.  
Equal to her were none, for parts, or worth,  
Religion yet did chief set her forth.  
Weep Reader, weep, this fair one's snatched away,  
In her best years she felt her strength decay.  
Can any read this without sighs, and say,  
Here lies a mirror wrapped up in clay?  
Idem.   

An elegy on that peerLess VIrgIn, SVsan● PerWICh, Paragon of aLL Virtue, the fLoVrIshIng gLory of her sex, Who LateLy DeCeaseD, DDCCLLLLLLLLXWWWWVIIIIII.  

Would tears permit, would sighs an● sobs give way  
My honest Muse her mournful deb● would pa●  
Unto thy Hearse, dear Saint. Can grief give time  
Or knows it measure, can't compose a Rhyme?  
Strong duty bids it try, though't be confused,  
Grief to trim Dress, or Order is disused.  
Now from the Fortress of my love-stored heart  
Officious words would sally, to bear part  
I'th' rites, but by an ambushment of tears  
Surprised: I'll try again devoid of fears.   

Now try we if it be true, or mere surmises,  
That from the Phoenix urn another rises:  
If this prove true, 'twil give our grief a lank,  
Whose prouder swelling laughs at bound or bank   

Were I in Sect a Petrolitan  
Holding that mannerly devotion ran  
Through th' Conduits of the Saints: her Name alone  
I would adore, at her shrine make my moan.   

If not by Precept, but by Precedent  
(A breathing Precept) Virtue best is sent  
Into the soul, behold a perfect Guide,  
In whom all Virtues are exemplified:  
Courted by strong Temptations to be proud,  
Yet in Fame's silver Trumpet sounds aloud  
Her great Humility; which was the ground  
Whereon her other Virtue's flowered were found,  
This virtue is the ground on which the rest  
Run sweet division in a fair contest.  
On this firm Basis that bright Fabric stands,  
Which kisses Heaven and the Clouds commands,  
So many excellencies were her lot,  
One in another's beauty is forgot.  
As calm she was in words as in desires,  
Knew not her Sex's tempests nor their fires.  
Some are but fairer Aeolus his Dens,  
In which the winds and blustering storms he pens.   

Beauty, Proportion, Colour do define,  
To which some graceful motion well adjoin;  
Whereto may voice be added, all these here  
Conspired to place her fame above a Peer.   

Though chaste and comely seldom we do see  
In high degrees (at lest) conjoined, yet she  
Was Beauty's darling, Modesty's delight,  
Giving as rare as ravishing a sight.   

Hackney, the Lady's University  
Of Female Arts the famous Nursery;  
Which in their kind at lest, may well compare  
With those of th'other Sex; what Arts so rare  
Which are not liberally furnished here?  
Mathematics they count within their Sphere;  
Arithmetic in music couched you'll found;  
Geometry hath in their dancing shined.  
Astronomy's best read i'th' Lady's eyes;  
Rhetoric first from women did arise;  
Their Logic, Will, our Reason doth defy;  
There are Grammarians for Orthography.  
Tongues there abound. Blame not in improper Muse  
In Elegies still Eulogies we use.   

This University she graced, wherein  
To the chief College Students she did win.  
She there proceeded highest Graduate,  
Mistress of Arts that are professed thereat.  
How great a loss th●t University  
O● her bereft sustained! how great's the cry  
Of that famed College, which she did adorn  
Which knows but one long night without a morn?  
How dumb's their Music and their dancing lame!  
Or if both's good, yet neither is the same.  
Those pretty Doves eyes with griefs needle seil'd,  
They prick their fingers till their works blood yield   

In all the needles Curiosities  
Exactly she was read, view, wipe your eyes.  
In dancing reached perfection of the foot,  
Yet not with labour much gave her mind to't.  
Her Music jars Division in this strife,  
Whether she sang or played more to the life,  
That subdivided, whether on the Lute  
Or Viol best her fingers sweet did suit.  
Her Hand and Ear fell out which should be best  
The Hands none such by all she is confessed.  
In all her Exercises shown such Art  
Neglectedly concerned in each part,  
As if to her they all were natural,  
Or she to them were supernatural;  
And so in truth she was, her nobler Fire  
Unto a higher Region did aspire.  
This by her bearing is well figured out,  
Which rightly doth her represent devout.  
The Field is Argent; charge, a Chevron fable  
Betwixt three Eaglets, which to view are able  
Her Crest, a Southern Sun, in Noon-tide glory,  
Thus Eagles prove their young, in Nature's story   

Not silken Arts, nor graceful steps, nor dresses  
Not modish ordering heart-ensnaring Tresses,  
Not Art with Nature, Instrument with Voice  
Can make a Female Glory to rejoice;  
Nor Nature's paint, but much lesle that of Art,  
By which your Dames of pleasure make their mart  
But a bright burnished mind, whose lustre vies  
With the Celestial Lamps, dazzling all eyes.   

I'th' Heavenly Academy she was versed,  
Knowledge there's tasting, things are not rehearse  
But done, not only for a blaze professed,  
But Action there with constant heat is blest;  
In the Celestial University  
She now degrees of Glory takes more high.   

She once blest Earth, while acting on this stag●  
Now gives Heaven's Book of Bliss another Page,  
Which gives me greater Amours, and much more  
I long to read it now, than e'er before.   

You'll say, my Muse soars not so high a flight  
As justly rates her worth; confessed, 'tis right  
One cause is this, her wings with grief are wet,  
Or else her Lute had strained a nobler set.   
S. B.      

To the READER.  
Courteous Reader.  
SOme pages of this sheet being left voided for want of matter, rather than they should stand empty, I have filled them up with short practical Queries, grounded (for the most part) upon such pregnant Scriptures as have the answer still perspicuous in them, the rest may be supplied with answers from the mind of the Reader, either negatively or affirmatively, according to the nature of the Queries. And because my aim is to speak something that hath a particular reference to all sorts of sins and duties, I have therefore put my Queries accordingly; and for the more delight and variety, disposed them into a miscelaneous order. At first indeed, I thought to have filled up this sheet only, and no more, but my hand being in, I proceeded to a double century and somewhat more, and have divided them into Decades, for the better help of memory, and to prevent weariness; so remaining an hearty wellwisher to thy souls best good, I subscribe,  
John Bachiler.   


I. DECAD.  
1. Whether the imputed Righteousness of Jesus Christ by Faith, be not the true formal cause of a Believers Justification? whether the satisfaction he hath made to his Father's Justice on behalf of the Elect, be not sufficient? whether the merits of his Active and Passive obedience, do not arise from the dignity of his Person? and whether he that denies this, doth not make the Gospel voided? Esa. 53. throughout, 2 Cor. 5.21. Mat. 3.17. Heb. 7.25, 26, 27. compared with Rom. 4.14. Gal. 3. from 17. to 27. & Chap. 4.5.  
2. Whether he that affirms total and final falling away from special Grace, be not a downright Arminian, and Cousin-german to a Papist?  
3. Whether he that holds the power of nature (otherwise called ) may not strongly be suspected to be unknown to himself, or at lest not to take due notice of the workings of sin and Grace in his own heart?  
4. Whether one may not be a zealous Preacher against sin, and for inherent Grace, in order to Justification thereby, and yet be a Jesuit, or every whit as bad, whatever his pretence may be to the contrary? and whether such may not be accounted upholders of the doctrine of merit, and establishers of their own Righteousness? Rom. 10.3.  
5. Whether it be possible to cover a sinners spiritual nakedness with any other garments, but those which Christ wears on his own back? Rev. 3.18.  
6. Whether the Righteousness of Christ applied by Faith, be not both coat of Mail and cloth of Gold; and such too, as nothing can either pierce or sully? and whether he that hath this upon him, be not both securely and bravely arrayed from head to foot? Eph. 6.11. compared with Rev. 1.13.  
7. Whether any other robes have such rich embroideries, or are hung with so many, and so costly Jewels, as those robes of Christ, which both himself and his People wear? Es. 61.10. Cant. 1.10, 11.  
8. Whether Christ hath any Dowry with his Bride? and whether her Wedding clotheses are not of his providing, Ezek. 16.13, 14. compared with Rev. 21.2.  
9 Whether it was not an unparallelled love for Christ, to accounted the day of Espousals, with one that had neither Beauty, Parentage, nor Portion, to be the day of the gladness of of his heart? Cant. 1.6. Eze. 16.3, 4, 5, 6. compared with Cant. 3.11.  
10. Whether by the Queens, her being all glorious within (Psal. 45. 13.) and by her clothing of wrought Gold, be not meant, the splendours of Grace in the heart, and the shine of them in the Life?   

II. DECAD.  
11. Whether, if Grace be the Flower, sincerity and godly simplicity, be not the lasting fragrancy and beauty of that Flower?  
12. Whether the Flames of Divine Love are not most vehement, even flames of God? and whether those flames are not raised and maintained from the sweetest Fuels? Cant. 8.6. compared with Chap. 1.12.  
13. Whether these flames shall ever go quite out for want of fuel, or can be extinguished, either by men or devils? Jer. 31.3. compared with Rom. 8.35. to 39  
14. Whether the very best duties of the best Saints, have not need of Christ's perfumes to sweeten them? and whether much incense be not therefore added to their Prayers, because they are in themselves very unsavoury, and from very noisome hearts? Rev. 8.3.  
15. Whether in the golden Vials (mentioned Rev. 5.8.) though the Prayers are the Saints, the odours are not Christ's? and whether the reason why they are all called odours, be not, because the denomination is always from the better part?  
16. Whether fervent Prayers from holy hearts, make not as sweet a smell in Heaven, as their praises make melodies? Psal. 141.2. Cant. 2.14.  
17. Whether a soul can truly live without Christ any more than the Body without wholesome food, Joh. 6.27, 32, 33.  
18. Whether the highest Angels feed on better dainties than the meanest Saint? and whether the Love of God be not a full and a sumptuous Feast? Psal. 36.7, 8. & 34.8. compared with Esa. 25.6.  
19 Whether the hardest heart doth not drink in the Love, and melt in the Blood of Christ, as sugar sucks up, and melts in wine? Rom. 5.5.  
20. Whether one can begin too soon to love God? or can love him too much? or can suffer or loose, or do too much for him? and whether he doth not deserve the very best of all we have? the best of our time? the best of our affections? the best of our enjoyments? and accordingly whether he doth not expect it? Deut. 6.5. Gen. 4.4. compared with Mal. 1.8.   

III. DECAD.  
21. Whether true saving Faith may not well be said to have an Eagles' eye, since in a right line it can look on the brightest Sun, the Sun of Righteousness? Esa. 45.22. compared with Mal. 4.2.  
22. Whether a weak Faith, like a palsy hand, may not lay hold on a pardon or purse of gold? the woman came trembling to Christ, Luke 8.47. Mark 9.24. Joh. 6.37.  
23. Whether the lowly grace of Humility, like the delicate scented Violet, that even kisseth the earth, and as 'twere hides itself under its own leaves, be not as sweet as any of the Taller graces? and whether this be not a thriving Grace? Psal. 25.9. Prov. 29.23. Jam. 4.6. 1 Pet. 5.5.  
24. Whether they have not the quickest and best hearing, who have an ear in their heart that listens to, and hears the smallest motions of the Spirit of Grace? Esa. 30.21.  
25. Whether Faith and Love are not a pair of golden wings, with which a gracious heart flies to Heaven every day? Psal. 11.1. & 143.9.  
26. Whether the lowest sighs from a broken heart, do not make the loudest Prayers? and whether a Prayer upon the knee, will ever reach Heaven, unless it be a Prayer on the wing too? Psal. 51.17. Esa. 37.4.  
27. Whether all the day long, wheresoever or howsoever employed, the sending up of frequent ejaculations to Heaven, be not to drive a secret, but thriving trade for Grace, and the comforts of it? Psal. 139.17, 18. Esa. 26.8, 9  
28. Whether any one truly penitent groan, was ever unheard of God? or one penitent tear unseen or unbottled up by him? and whether God will defer the deliverance of his afflicted People one moment longer than is necessary? 2 King. 20.5. Psal. 56.8. 1 Pet. 1.6.  
29. Whether he that suffers or loseth most for Christ, be not the greatest gainer? Mat. 5.11, 12. Rom. 8.17, 18. 2 Cor. 4.17.  
30. Whether by some men's lives and actions, it may be supposed, that they do really believe there is a God, a day of Judgement, an Heaven and an Hell?   

iv DECAD.  
31. Whether the death of many righteous in a few months' time, be not a sad prognostication of much evil to come? and whether every day of our life, we aught not seriously to think of, and carefully prepare for the hour of our death? Esa. 57.1. Job 14.14. Psal. 90.12.  
32. Whether a covert under the wings of the Almighty, be not a safe and a warm place in stormy times? and whether they may not reckon themselves secure whom God keeps? Psal. 91.1, 4.  
33. Whether the bosom of God be not the sweetest, highest and brightest place in Heaven? and whether it be not the place where Abraham lies? Luk. 16.23.  
34. Whether his case be not to be lamented, who makes it his business so to live, as to dye a fool? and whether a poor Lazarus be not in an happier condition than he? Luk. 12.20. & Chap. 16.22.  
35. Whether he that refuseth to answer God's Calls and Counsels in the time of his Life, can expect God's answers to his calls and cries at the hour of his death? Prov. 1.24 to 31.  
36. Whether Fornicators, Adulterers, and other such like, shall not do well to consider, that God's eye is broad open upon them at midnight, when no candle is in the room, no company there, and the curtains drawn round about them? and whether he doth not see their thoughts too, as well as their actions? Psal. 90.8. & 139.1 to 14. Heb. 13.4.  
37. Whether, if every idle word must be accounted for, as certainly it shall, Mat. 12.36. it will not be sad with them, whose mouths belch forth nothing but oaths, curse, blasphemies, scurrilities, all manner of filthy communications, and bitter revile against God, his ways and People? Psal. 10.7. Rom. 3.13, 14. 1 Pet. 2.23. Judas 15.  
38. Whether the righteous God be not engaged to a severe punishment of the wrongs and injuries done to him and his? and whether present forbearance will pass for payment, or doth not make way rather for the heavier blows at last? Psal. 37, 12, 13. Eccles. 8.11, 12. Prov. 11.21.  
39 Whether God will be mocked, or doth not take notice of the intolerable insolences of profane scoffers at his Holy things, especially his servants the Prophets, and the messages which they bring? and whether this was not one great cause of all that wrath that broke out against Judah, when they were carried away captives into Babylon? 2 Chron. 36.16. Gal. 6.7.  
40. Whether the terrible Judgements of God, in the present death of four of the Actors of the passion of Christ, upon the very place where, and while they were acting it (mentioned by Philip Melancthon) are not to be taken notice of by such as adventure on such bold attempts?   

V DECAD.  
41. Whether Idolatry were not one principal sin, that sent the ten Tribes into perpetual captivity? and whether the practice of it among Christians, be not one great hindrance of the conversion of the Jews, who having smarted so much and so long together for that sin, do they not now dread to come where it is, or to embrace that Religion that is defiled with it? 2 King. 17.7. to 19  
42. Whether the worshipping of the true God, after a false manner, be not Idolatry in the Scripture account, as well as the worshipping of a false God? and whether God cares for any worshippers, but such as worship him in Spirit and Truth? Ezek. 43.8. John 4.24.  
43. Whether a little pollution, mixed with the pure Doctrine, Discipline and Worship of God be not like a little spider in a cup of rich wine, which may poison it as well as a bigger? and whether God doth not expect full as great care and caution about the matter and manner of his Worship in the days of the Gospel, as he did in the days of Moses, who was not to vary in the lest, from the pattern that was showed him in the Mount? Exod. 35.40. Ezek. 44.7, 8.  
44. Whether it be not the peculiar Office of the Spirit of God, to teach his People to pray? and whether any prayers will be accepted, but such as he dictates? Rom. 8.15, 26, 27. Psal. 10.17.  
45. Whether seeming grace or holiness, will qualify a man for happiness, any more than real sins? and whether those Scribes and Pharisees, which our Saviour calls Hypocrites, in their external acts of worship, and public profession of Religion, were not in appearance very devout men? Mat. 23.14, 25, to 30. Phil. 3.4, 5, 6.  
46. Whether any leaven so sowers the Conscience? any thorn so sharply pricks it? any dagger so deeply wounds it, as hypocrisy? 1 Cor. 5.8. Prov. 18.14.  
47. Whether Swearers, Drunkards, Whoremasters, or any other profane persons and lewd livers, be any whit the better men, because they go to Divine Service twice a day, and perhaps can say all the Prayers without book too (being so often used to them) unless they truly repent and reform? Esa. 29.13. Jer. 7.9, 10, 11.  
48. Whether the Gospel should not be preached in season and out of season? and whether; where vision fails, the people are not in danger of perishing? 2 Tim. 4.2. Prov. 29.18.  
49. Whether the darkness, occasioned among a People, by the absence of the Sun of Righteousness, and his shining Gospel, be not far greater, and more terrible than that of Egypt, it being a deprivation of a more glorious Light? Luk. 1.79.  
50. Whether they that cannot endure the light of the Gospel, have not sore eyes? and they that cannot see the light of it when it shines brightly, are not stark blind? and whether they that do their utmost to extinguish it, are not willing to have themselves and deeds undiscovered, and so go to Hell without stop? Joh. 3.19, 20. Eph. 5.13. 2 Cor. 4.3, 4.   

VI DECAD.  
51. Whether Christ his local descent into Hell, were an Article of the Christian Faith, the first 400. years after Christ? and whether those words of our Saviour upon the Cross, It is finished, (Joh. 19.20.) do leave any ground to believe that he suffered any pain, or felt any farther wrath of God afterwards, as common People are apt to conceive, by those words of his, Descending into Hell?  
52. Whether the words of that Article in the Creed, Crucified, dead and buried, do not sufficiently express Christ his remaining in the state of the dead, without the addition of any other words? and if they do, whether than the following words must not be taken in a distinct sense? or else be liable to the danger of a Tantology?  
53. Whether the Lords day doth not consist of as many hours as any other day? and whether it aught not to be wholly set apart, either for personal duties in secret; or for private duties in the Family; or for public duties of Piety in the Congregation, and of charity among Neighbours, as occasion requires? Exod. 20.8, 9, 10, 11. & Chap. 31.13, to 18. Levit. 19.3, 30. Mat. 12.1, to 9  
54. Whether a great and strict charge doth not lie on Parents and Governors of Families, to Catechise Children and Servants, and to instruct them in the admonition and nurture of the Lord? and whether the want of this be not one great hindrance to the work of the Gospel in the public ministration of it? Deut. 6.6, 7. Prov. 22.6. Eph. 6.4.  
55. Whether the want of frequent and plain Preaching and pressing the fundamentals of Religion, by the Ministers of the Gospel, be not one chief occasion of the great ignorance and confusion, that is ordinarily found in the minds of People, about matters of Faith and Practice, and of their aptness to be seduced into errors?  
56. Whether it may be ever hoped for in this world, that all men shall be just of a mind, or of the same opinions and apprehensions (in matters disputable at lest) any more than all to be of one and the same complexion and feature in their faces? 1 Cor. 1.12. & Chap. 3.3, 4, 5, 6. & Chap. 12.4, 5.  
57 Whether Parents aught not to bear a great reverence towards their Children, in doing and saying nothing in their sight and hearing, which they are unwilling to have them learn or practise? and whether evil communication in them as well as others, doth not corrupt good manners? 1 Cor. 15.33. Eph. 4.29.  
58. Whether often dropping savoury and good speeches among those we have ordinary converse with, in design to win souls, or to quicken grace in ourselves and others, be not a sowing of precious seed, that will be sure to come up at one time or another in a fruitful Harvest? and whether Abraham, Joshua, and David, with other eminent Saints in Scripture, were not want to be much employed this way? Gen. 18.19. Josh. 24.15. Psal. 34.11. Prov. 31.1, to 10. Prov. 1.1, 3, 4. & Chap. 10.21.  
59 Whether he that willingly and constantly neglects the duties of secret meditation and Prayer betwixt God ●nd his own soul, may pass in charity ●or a good Christian? Mat. 6.5, 6.  
60. Whether a cold, flat, dull spirit of Prayer among God's People, be not a sad symptom, both of their unfitness to suffer afflictions, and unpreparedness for deliverance out of it? Esa. 43.22. and whether when God intends mercy, he doth not give an heart to pray earnestly for it? Jer. 29.10, to 15.   

VII. DECAD.  
61. Whether the floodgates of all manner of sins standing open among a People, and no stop put to them, will not let in also inundations of judgements? and whether in such times there can be any more than two parties found, either such as willingly partake of the common guilt, or such as sigh and cry for the abominations committed among them? Lam. 1.8, 9 Ezek. 9.4.  
62. Whether those that live mo●● holily, mourn for their own and the Nations sin most affectionately, and pray for their Prince most fervently, are not the best subjects? 1 Tim. 2.1, 2.  
63. Whether pure Religion, and undefiled, doth not consist in the conscientious performances of the duties of both Tables, viz. of Holiness towards God, and Righteousness towards men? and whether he that most truly fears God, doth not most truly honour the King too? and whether the second must not needs be affirmed, where the first is granted? 1 Pet. 2.17. Act. 24.16.  
64. Whether there can be any comfort in suffering, unless it be for well doing? and whether a man hath not need of a very good and clear cause, that lies in a Prison for it? 1 Pet. 3.17.  
65. Whether Prayers and tears are not the Saints weapons, and after their death too? and whether by ●hese they may not hope to prevail ●gainst their adversaries in due time, Rev. 6.9, 10. Exod. 2.23, 24, 25.  
66. Whether injuries, especially ●or God's sake, are not patiently to be born, rather than revenged? and whether Christ himself give not a great example and proof of it? Luk. 6.28, 29. 1 Pet. 2.23.  
67. Whether it was not providential, that the name of the first man that died for the Christian Religion (Stephen) should signify a Crown? and whether that crowned Emperor, Philip the Arabian (Successor to Gordianus) who in the time of the 7th. persecution was slain, because a Christian, was not advanced to a much higher dignity than he had before, by his being crowned with Martyrdom? 2 Tim. 4.7, 8. Jam. 1.12. Rev. 2.10. & 3.21.  
68 Whether a Prison for Christ's sake, doth not become a Palace and place of glory, and a close stinking dungeon, a Paradise of sweetest pleasures? and whether Christ himself be not fellow-Prisoner there? Rev. 2.10. Act. 12.7. & 16.25. Mat. 25.36.  
69. Whether fires of the Saints Bodies are not made of the richest fuels? and whether God smells not sweet savours from these flames? Phil. 2.17. Rom. 12.1.  
70. Whether the Ashes of holy Martyrs, are not reserved in golden Urns? and whether the most lasting perfumes, are not found in the graves of those that die in, and for Christ, especially since Christ himself and his odours lay in a grave? Joh. 19.39, 40, 41. 1 Thes. 4.14, 16.   

VIII. DECAD.  
71. Whether the History of the ten persecutions, especially the Martyrdoms of the Apostles, of Epagathus, Zenon, and other Noble men of Rome, of Ignatius Bishop of Antioch, of Eustachius, one of Hadrian's most ●aliant Generals of his Armies, of ●olycarpus Bishop of Smyrna, of Fe●●citas and her seven Sons, of Germa●icus Sanctus, Maturus, Attalus, Laurentius, Blandina, with very many others, are not most pleasing and profitable to be read in suffering times?  
72. Whether visions of God, and ●is holy Angels, to some of the aforesaid Martyrs, and their fellows, did not fill them with ineffable joys in the midst of their greatest sufferings? and whether the intenseness and sweetness thereof, were not the true reason (as the Writers of these things report) why from morning to night they could endure such exquisite torments, as burning plates, scalding lead, boiling oils, and many other such like, inflicted on their naked bodies, as if they had never felt them? 1 Pet. 4.13, 14. Heb. 10.35. & 12.2.  
73. Whether some may not be killed, but not hurt? and others not only dye, but be killed by death? Rev. 2.11, 23.  
74. Whether all the world be not a place of exile to him, whose Country is Heaven? and whether a Believers home can be any where but in his Father's house? John 14. 2. Heb. 11.13, 14, 15, 16.  
75. Whether Holiness be not the beauty of youth, and the glory of old age? the shine of this, and of the other world? Prov. 1.8, 9 & 16.31.  
76. Whether the Sun in the firmament hath half so many beams and influential powers, as the Covenant of Grace hath consolations? and whether the Promises are not the breasts thereof, and so full, that the Babes of Christ can never empty them by sucking? Heb. 6.17, 18. 2 Pet. 1.4. Esa. 66.11, 12.  
77. Whether God be not such an ever and overflowing Fountain of Life and Grace, as sends forth millions of fresh and new streams continually? and whether all other fountains of good are any other than so many single drops of this? Psal. 36.8, 9 Esa. 12.2, 3.  
78. Whether all our flowers grow not in God's Garden? and whether he be not provoked to crop them, when we look too much upon them, or smell too much to them? Hos. 2.8, 9, 10.  
79. Whether engaging the heart more than is meet, in creature-comforts, be not like a surfeit from sweetmeats, that often brings death? Luk. 8.14. 2 Tim. 3.4.  
80. Whether most men like spiders, do not suck poison from God's flowers; rather than like Bees, make honey out of them? and whether ingratitude, doth not turn his honey into gall, and presumption, his grace into wantonness? 2 Tim. 3.2. Judas 4.   

IX. DECAD.  
81. Whether it be not better to suffer than to sin? and whether many do not wish they had done so, when 〈◊〉 is too late? 1 Pet. 4.16. Mat. 27.3, 4, 5.  
82. Whether God will thank any man for being so over-careful or bu●● in providing for the peace of the Church (or his own peace rather) tha● he is not so careful as he should be for the purity of it? and whether it be 〈◊〉 good way to procure its peace, b● yielding to any thing that pollutes it? Ezek. 13.17, to 23.  
83. Whether a tender conscience, that fears to offend God in the lest thing, especially in matters of his divine Worship, be not lesle dangerous, than a bold conscience that adventures far, and a large conscience tha● can swallow any thing for preferments sake? and whether a tender conscience be not a better guard upon the purity of God's holy Ordinances, than a forward compliance with those precepts of men, which (if Christ himself be worthy of belief) renders the Worship of God vain? Esa. 29.13. Mat. 15.7, 8, 9 Mark. 7.6, 7, 8, 9  
84. Whether carnal policy, love of ●●lf and base fear, have not betrayed ●any a brave Cause? and whether he ●hat steps back, and loseth but one ●oot of his ground, doth not draw his adversary the faster and more fiercely ●●n him, till he be quite beaten out of ●he field by him? Gal. 1.16, 17. & ●hap. 2.4, 5.  
85. Whether those wounds upon ●he Gospel, be not most gaping, and ●hose gashes in the profession of it, ●he deepest, which are made by men, who being reputed truly godly, do most unworthily renounce, or at lest not openly, strenuously and constantly assert, those professed Principles and practices, which with good reason, they formerly, more ways than one declared for, and maintained, in the face of the whole world? and whether Francis Spira found not the bitter fruit of such a tergiversation from the Truth, when he subscribed to the Pope's Legate? O how did he cry out of the shipwreck which he had made of Faith and a good Conscience I how did he torment his own soul, with that dreadful Scripture (Prov. 14.14.) The back-slider in heart shall be filled with his own ways! which sore judgement the Lord avert (for his mercy sake) and prevent in others.  
86. Whether patience under afflictions, be not best maintained in a gracious heart, by thinking well of God, and a firm belief that all things shall work together for good? and whether the consideration, that God is a creating God, and so able to created succours and means of help, when all visible hopes from second causes fail, be not a ground of great consolation to Believers when most oppressed? Rom. 8.28. Heb. 12.5, 6, 7, 10. Esa. 50.2. & 59.1.  
87. Whether God intends any more hurt to his servants, when he puts them into the fire, than the Refiner doth to his precious metals, when he puts them into the Furnace? and whether it can reasonably be imagined, that he means to consume his gold and silver, and so impoverish himself? Mal. 3.2, 3. Zachar. 13.9. 1 Pet. 4.12.  
88 Whether God's actions are not always best, how cross soever they may seem to us, and done upon the highest and best reasons? and whether there be not good reason for us to conclude so, though sometimes we understand them not? Psal. 136.5. Prov. 3.19, 20. Job 36.22, 23.  
89. Whether God only be not the most absolute Sovereign, that by a peculiar prerogative, makes his own will the rule of whatsoever he doth, both in Heaven and Earth? and whether any thing can possibly be contingent to him, or hap otherwise (even in any the lest circumstance) than he hath before decreed, ordained, and appointed? or than he orders, permits, and directs? Job 9.12. Esa. 46.11. Act. 2.23. & 4.28. & 17.26. Rom. 9.15, 18, to 24.  
90. Whether God be not greatly to be observed and admired, in all that he doth, not only in his works of Creation, but in the continued course of his renewed Providences? and whether every thing that proceeds from God, should not lead us to God? Act. 17.26, 27.   

X. DECAD.  
91. Whether it be not a duty to follow Providence, and not to lead it? to be led by it, and not to drive it? or whether we can have peace in doing or suffering any thing without a good warrant, or call from God? Psal. 73.24. Heb. 5.4.  
92. Whether Original Sin was not the Devils first Brat, begot upon human nature, with its own consent? and whether millions of millions more, of all manner of transgressions, have not ever since been conceived and sprang from the same womb? Gen. 3.4, 5, 13. 2 Cor. 11.3. Rom. 5.12, 16, 17, 18, 19 Gen. 6.5. Eccles. 8.11. Jam. 1.14.  
93. Whether all manner of miseries and deaths, have not come in at this door only? Rom. 5.12, to 17. Jam. 1.15.  
94. Whether we are not worse enemies to ourselves by far, than the Devil can possibly be, since he can never hurt us without our own consent? Prov. 1.10. Psal. 50.18.  
95. Whether the heart of man before 'twas entered and possessed by sin, was not the very Paradise of Paradise, an Eden within Eden itself, even Gods own sweet Garden of delight, where himself, and Son, and Spirit, did all devil and converse together? and whether ever since it hath not been the very spawning place of all filthiness? a Cage of unclean birds? an horrible deep and dark pit, of hissing stinging Serpents? and these so bedded and twisted together, and so continually multiplying, that it is utterly impossible they should ever be destroyed any other way, but by plentiful streams of Christ his own wreaking warm blood, poured hot upon them, from his dying heart. This indeed can stifle and kill them, when nothing else can, Gen. 1.27, 28. compared with Chap. 6.5. and with Jer. 17.9. as also with 1 Joh. 1.7.  
96. Whether Pelagiamsm, that denies Original Sin, and makes death not to be the punishment thereof, but the mere necessary consequence of nature only, be not a most dangerous Heresy? and whether the doctrine of general Redemption, which grants Original Sin, but than takes it of again from all mankind, by attributing too large an extent to the death of Christ, be not every whit as dangerous? and whether both these Grand Heresies, are not against most express Scriptures? the first against, Rom. 5.12. & chap. 3.9, 10, 11, 12, 22, 23. Gal. 3.23. the second against, Esa. 53.11, 12. Joh. 17.9. Rom. 3.26. & 5.12. & 6.23. compared with, Gen. 2.17.  
97. Whether the roar which some men have in their Consciences, when their own sins and God's wrath, are let out against them, even here in this Life, be not more hideous and lamentable, than those that were made by the Bull of Phalaris, or the red-hot chains and grid-irons, that some of the holy Martyrs were broiled and fried to death by? and yet how short doth this come of Hell? Prov. 18.14. Mat. 27.4, 5. Mat. 22.13. & 25.41. Esa. 33.14.  
98. Whether force and violence, upon so tender a place as Conscience, are not sore temptations? and whether, while they 'cause men to sin against their own light, they do not often occasion far more grievous torments inwardly, than those outward fiery trials of affliction can possibly be, which they dread so much, and seek this way to avoid? Prov. 14.14.  
99 Whether God be not as skilful, yea infinitely more skilful, to draw good out of evil; yea the greatest good out of the greatest evil, than men are to make sovereign Treacles out of strong poisons? Rom. 8.28.  
100 Whether the blood of Christ be not the most sovereign Balsam? and whether it be possible for the lest wound, that ever sin made, to be cured without it? and lastly, whether Christ be not the best Physician, as well as Chyrugion, since none that he hath undertaken, ever miscarried under his hand, or ever can, Heb. 9.14, 22. Mat. 9.12. Luk. 10.34, 35. John 6.37.   

XI. DECAD.  
101. Whether all the Monarchies in the world, and millions more of the same kind, can bear equal weight with one dram of saving Grace? and whether they that make drudges of themselves to get wealth, but never mind the salvation of their precious souls, do not cell Heaven and Happiness for a golden nothing, and so make sad work for themselves when they lie a dying? Mat. 16.26.  
102. Whether a little Religion in great persons, doth not go a great way, and shine far? and whether such persons, in the midst of their many temptations from Honours, Richeses, and Pleasures, are not rather to be pitied and prayed for, than envied? 1 Cor. 1.26.  
103. Whether Jesus Christ be not worthy to be accounted and made use of, as the most illustrious and refulgent Jewel that can be worn, either in the bosom of Noblest Ladies, or on the Diadems of mightiest Monarches? 1 Pet. 2.6, 7.  
104. Whether Glory doth not sparkle in Grace here, as in a rich Diamond full of Angels, and Grace flame in Glory hereafter, as in a bright shining Sun? and whether that which is called Grace in the cradle, be not the same, that is called Glory upon the Throne? 2 Cor. 3.18.  
105. Whether the poor Groom in the Stable, or the Scullion in the Kitchen, that hath true Faith in Christ, and sincere Love to God, shall not be sure of a place in Heaven, when the great Lord or Lady which he serves, having none of these Graces, shall never come there? Jam. 2.5.  
106. Whether it be not great pity, that one should get into the Suburbs of Heaven, but never into Heaven itself? and whether it doth not concern the finespun Hypocrite, and the great moralist, to think of this? Mark 12.3.  
107. Whether every one should not strive to be better than others, and to set the liveliest patterns of holiness? and whether the lowly Grace of Humility, which like the delicate scented Violet, hangs its head near the ground, and hides itself as 'twere, un-under its own leaves, be not as sweet as any of the taller graces? Tit. 2.7. & 3.1. 1 Cor. 14.12. also, Prov. 15.33. and 22.4. 1 Pet. 5.5.  
108. Whether many Heathen, for their moral virtues, did not outdo many of those, that in our days, go by the name of Christians? and whether it be not best, so to live always, as one would wish to have lived when he comes to dye? Mat. 11.21.  
109. Whether he takes not the most desirable journey, and hath not the best company for his fellow-travellers, that goes towards Heaven, and gets thither at last, though sometimes his way be dirty? Mat. 7.14. compared with, Prov. 3.17.  
110. Whether the Saints do not always walk with the best guards; for while wicked men are attended with none but the Devil and his Imps, are not they ever surrounded with the holy Angels, and with God to boot? Psal. 91.9, 10, 11, 12. Heb. 1.14.   

XII. DECAD.  
111. Whether it be not the wisest way to get preferment in that Court, where all are Kings? and whether a Believers Crown of Thorns, that is lined with Diamonds, be not richer, and more easy, than those Crowns of Diamonds that are lined with Thorns? Rev. 1.6. Mat. 13.7, 22.  
112. Whether any Garden or Gallery, be so pleasant, sweet, and stately to walk in, as where Christ and his Spouse are want to meet? and whether any nourishment be so desirable, as that honey and milk which they eat of, and those spiced Wines which they drink? Cant. 5.1. & 7.5. & 8.2. Esa. 25.6.  
113. Whether the Citizen's Merchandise, or the Countrey-mans Husbandry, the Gentleman's Revenues, and the Poor man's Labours, are not more or lesle prosperous, sweet and comfortable, as they have more or lesle interest in God, and converse with him? Deuter. 28.2, to 21.  
114. Whether any calling, employment or business, can be warrantable, which one cannot in Faith pray for, and expect a blessing on? and whether Stage-Players, makers of Popish Pictures and Images, and many others, are not concerned in this Quaery? Rom. 14.23. Esa. 44.9, to 21.  
115. Whether a secret curse doth not the same in some men's great Estates, that worms do at the roots of fairest flowers? and whether every thing on this side Heaven, be not either a Feather or a Thorn, vanity or vexation of spirit? Prov. 3.33. Mal. 2.2. Job 20.26. Eccles. 1.2, 14.  
116. Whether holy tears have not a shrill voice? and whether a right Prayer indeed comes not into God's ear, as soon as it is out of a Believers heart? Psal. 6.8. Esa. 65.24.  
117. Whether one affectionate warm active Christian, among many cold ones, be not like one live coal, that enkindles many dead ones? and like a loadstone, in the midst of many needles, which draws and gives magnetic touches to them all, by virtue whereof, they draw others likewise? 1 Cor. 11.1. Heb. 3.13. John 1.43, to 47. Act. 18.24, to 28.  
118. Whether passions out of order, are not like fire out of the chimney? and whether all care aught not to be used to keep them within their due place and compass? Jam. 1.19, 20. & 3.5, 6. Eph. 4.26.31.  
119. Whether it be not the duty of Husbands and Wives, not only to pray for and with one another, at times of ordinary address to God, but also at special seasons in their retirements, frequently set apart for that purpose betwixt themselves? and whether this be not an excellent means to procure blessings upon, and to keep all things in sweet harmony in their Families? Zachar. 12.11, 12, 13, 14. Luke 1.6.  
120. Whether the Husband aught not to devil with his Wife as a man of knowledge, and to be a good guide and head to her? and whether the Wife by her virtues, should not become a Crown to her Husband? and whether in this case, the Head and the Crown be not well met? 1 Pet. 3.7. Prov. 12.4.   

XIII. DECAD.  
121. Whether Kings, Princes, and Nobles, have not the greatest opportunities of doing good in their Generations? the greatest obligations upon them towards God? and the greatest accounts to make to him? Esa. 49.23. Psal. 101. throughout, & Psal. 34.11. 2 Chron 29.36. Esth. 4.13. Nehem. 1.4. Luk. 1.3.  
122. Whether Judges and Lawyers, of all others, have not the most frequent and lively representations of the day of Judgement before their eyes? and whether such of them as take Bribes, give wrong Judgement, undertake bad Causes, and refuse to pled good ones, shall not certainly come to their trial, at that High Tribunal? 2 Chron. 19.6. Levit. 19.15. Prov. 31.9. Esa. 1.17, 23. Deut. 25.1. also, Psal. 94.21. Esa. 5.23. Heb. 10.30.  
123. Whether those are not weak Nets, or those Nets not well managed, which will catch and hold little fishes only, but not great ones? and whether those Laws are not as weak, or at lest weakly executed, that catch little offenders only, but let great ones escape? 1 Sam. 8.3. Esa. 29.21.  
124. Whether the pardoning of many and great crimes, be not sometimes very seasonable and necessary? and whether this be not to imitate God himself, in one of his most Royal Prerogatives? 2 Sam. 19.21, 22, 23. Prov. 10.12. Exod. 34.7. Jer. 50.20.  
125. Whether he that is implacable against another, that hath causelessly offended him, so as never to pardon nor forget the wrong done to him, hath any reason to hope for mercy from God, whom himself offends daily and hourly? Rom. 1.31. Luk. 17.2, 3. Mat. 6.14, 15. 2 Cor. 2.7.  
126. Whether he that prays God would forgive him, as he forgives others (whom he neither doth forgive, nor ever will) doth not thereby give answer to himself, and conclude never to be forgiven? or at lest, doth not his tongue contradict his heart? and that in the sight of him who knows all hearts? Mat. 6.12, 13, 14, 15. Act. 15.8. Luk. 6.37. & 11.4.  
127. Whether some men do not sin fearfully, by rash vows, and obstinate resolutions, without and against all rule or precedent from the Word of God? and whether such men fall not into dreadful snares thereby? or can have any other way to deliver themselves from the sin or danger thereof, but by repenting with all speed, and nullifying such unwarrantable vows and resolutions? Judg. 11.39. Act. 9.23, 24. & 23, 12, 13, 14.  
128. Whether it be not an unparallelled, both crime, folly and cruelty, to be irreconcilable to another for the same faults, (or perhaps lesle) that ones self either is or hath been guilty of, and yet reckon upon going to Heaven at last, without any greater (or perhaps not so great) evidence of repentance or reformation, than the Party he is so irreconcilable to doth give? Mat. 18.32, 33, 34, 35.  
129. Whether a mans own Conscience be not a Law, a Witness, and a Judge to himself? and whether the Righteous God doth not pass the same Sentence upon a man, that his own conscience doth? Prov. 14.14. Rom. 2.14, 15, 16. 1 Joh. 3.20, 21.  
130. Whether it be likely that he, who at any time thinks it too soon to repent, or thinks it soon enough to repent at any time, means ever to repent at all? and whether any man be truly wise, but he that is wise at last, and so wise for eternity? Heb. 3.7, to 16. Rom. 2.5. Prov. 19.20. Deut. 32.29.   

XIV. DECAD.  
131. Whether part of a good Mother's employment, should not be a constant endeavour to instil knowledge and grace into her Childrens hearts? and the like of a Mistress to her Maidens? Prov. 31.1. 2 Tim. 1.5.  
132. Whether a disobedient Child, that truly reputes, and endeavours to amend for the future, may not hope for mercy from his Father in Heaven, in case he cannot obtain none from his earthly Parents? and whether he that wants bowels to another in misery, may not fear he shall found as little favour himself, when he stands most in need of it? Luk. 15.17, to 22. Prov. 12.10. Jer. 6.23. Jam. 2.13.  
133. Whether it be possible for Children, by all the duty and love they can express, to make full payment of what they own to Parents? and whether they aught not to do their utmost to become comforts to them, and be grieved at the very heart if they have been crosses? Luk. 15.18, 19  
134. Whether they are not the best neighbours, friends and companions, whose constant discourse is most heavenly, and their examples most Holy? 1 Thess. 1.7.  
135. Whether she makes not the best Wife that hath two Husbands, one in Heaven as well as one on Earth? and whether she can love the latter well, unless she love the other better? Cant. 2.16. & 6.3. & 7.10.  
136. Whether to match with Christ be not high preferment? and whether Gods most wondered condescension, in accepting any poor vile mortal, and making one fit to become a Spouse for his Son, be not a good document and instruction to those Parents, that sometimes found their Children match below their rank and estates, provided they meet with internal qualifications of mind, suitable and commendable in the want of other things? Mat. 22.2. Esa. 54.5.  
137. Whether pride be not a swelling tumour, most angry, fiery, and festering, and upon the worst place of all, the heart? and whether reviling language doth not argue a blistered tongue, and slanderous lips cut like a Razor? Prov. 16.5. & 21.24. & 29.22, 23.  
138. Whether any two that lie in a bed together, after personal and secret liftings up of their respective hearts to God, can spend their time better before they rise, than by quickening each other with holy conference, and consulting how best to serve God all the day after? Psal. 5.3. & 63.6. Mal. 3.16.  
139. Whether as soon as our eyes are open in the mornings, we should not prevent Satan, by giving the first possession of our hearts to God? and whether it be not needful always, to set a watchful and strong guard about them, to keep the Devil out? Psal. 63.1. & 88.13. & 139.18. also, Prov. 4.23.  
140. Whether the Prayer of Jonah out of the belly of the Whale, got not as quick to Heaven, and without wetting its wings too, as Solomon's did from the Holy Temple? and whether he that prays most sincerely hath not the sweetest breath, as well as he that sings most spiritually hath the sweetest voice? Jonah 2.7. Cant. 2.14. Rev. 5.8.   

XV. DECAD.  
141. Whether God in his appointed time, will not fully vindicate the ●onour of his own holy Ordinances, upon the prophaners, despisers, and contemners of them? and whether ●e hath not done so sooner or later, ●n all foregoing Ages? Malech. 1.7. Isa. 5.24. Ezek. 22.8. Amos 2.4, 5. 1 Cor. 11.30.  
142. Whether a quiet, but evil Conscience, be not an Ulcer most dangerous, and of all others, the most incurable? Prov. 18.14. Mat. 2.5. Gen. 4.13, 14.  
143. Whether he be not the best Soldier, that maintains a spiritual warfare against Sin, Satan, and his own evil heart? 1 Tim. 1.18, 19 Eph. 6.11, 12.  
144. Whether the Devil, that old and subtle Serpent, be so able and cunning to deceive a man, as a man's own heart is to deceive itself? and whether Satan, with all his temptations, can hurt us without our own consent? and whether sins are not greater or lesser, as more or lesle o● our own will is in them? Gen. 3.13. compared with, Jerem. 17.9. Jam. 1.14.  
145. Whether Godliness be not an hard trade or mystery, to be diligently and carefully learned? and whether that Apprentice deserves, or can expect to live well hereafter, that trifles away his opportunity, and is not industrious to get the mysteries of his Trade before his time be out? 1 Tim. 3.16.  
146. Whether all the most precious commodities that Merchants, Goldsmiths and jewellers deal for, are not sorry wares, in comparison of those that a good Christian trades for with Heaven? Prov. 3.13, 14. Mat. 13.45, 46.  
147. Whether it be not a miserable thing, for one to have the chief work for his soul to do, when the glass of his Life is run out? and whether it be not in vain for him than to call time again? Heb. 3.7, 13. & 12.17.  
148. Whether that stubborn Impenitent, which would not be reclaimed in his life-time, by all counsels and entreaties whatsoever, might not thank, himself for those horrors, which caused him to cry out at his last breath, Oh! that I had been made a toad under a block, when I was made a man? Prov. 1.24, to 32.  
149. Whether mutual admonitions, reproofs and exhortations, are not duties that lie on all men in their fit seasons? and whether, when they are wisely placed, they are not like Apples of gold with Pictures of silver? Heb. 3.13. & 10.25. Tit. 3.10.  
150. Whether the weakest men, are not soon and most invincibly conquered by their own passions? and whether he be not the greatest slave of all, that is a slave to his own lusts? Eccles. 7.9. Prov. 14.17. Rom. 7.14, 23.   

XVI. DECAD.  
151. Whether he be not guilty of an high affront against God, that will not be prevailed with to imitate him, so glorious a pattern, in pardoning offenders, and showing mercy to such as have need of it? Luk. 6.36, 37, 38. compared with, Prov. 1.29, 30, 31.  
152. Whether he that most sympathizeth with the poor suffering Servants of Jesus Christ (be they hungry, naked, sick, or in Prison) according to his ability, shall not be well paid in the other world? Mat. 25.34, to 41.  
153. Whether he that wants such a sympathising heart as aforesaid, and is not ready to the utmost of his power, to give ease and secure to the said suffering Members of Christ, may in charity be supposed to be any true integral part of Christ's mystical Body? 1 Cor. 12.26, 27. Eph. 4.25. & 5.30.  
154. Whether Jesus Christ doth not improve all the interest that he hath in Heaven, for the good of his Redeemed Ones, the interest of his Godhead, the interest of his Sonship, the interest of his Mediator-ship? and whether he doth not deserve, that they also should improve all the interest they have in this world, for him? Joh. 17.12, to 26. Heb. 6.20. & 7.25. Psal. 116.12, 13, 14.  
155. Whether he that hath a great Estate, but not an heart to improve it for God, were not much better be without it? and whether he that hath both these, doth not either found or make opportunities, to express his great love to Christ this way, and so not only brings a blessing upon what he enjoys here, but lays up vast treasures for himself hereafter? Luk. 16.19, to 26. compared with, Luk. 19.8. & Mark 10.21. and with Luk. 16.9.  
156. Whether if Darius an Heathen Prince, thought the Present of an handful of cold water offered him in his Progress by Sinetas' a poor Shepherd, (for want of something better) worthy to be received into a cup of gold, and than the cup itself to be given to him (as Aelian reports in his various History) will not the great God much more reward him that gives but a cup of cold water (if he be able to give no better thing) to one that bears the name of a Disciple? Mat. 10.42.  
157. Whether he that doth good with what he hath, according to his ability, while he lives, be not the best Executor to his own Estate? and whether he that is most rich in good Works, be not the richest man? 1 Tim. 6.18, 19 Rev. 14.13.  
158. Whether Covetousness be not Idolatry, and such Idolatry, as of all others, hath most worshippers, and most hearty ones? and whether some rich pinching muck-worms, though they pay all men their deuce, yet may not dye much in debt, viz. to their own backs and bellies? Colos. 3.5. Eccles. 5.11.  
159. Whether unjust and cruel gripers and graspers, as well as profuse wasters of Estates, have not sad accounts to make? and whether this Epitaph may not be written on their grave-stones, Here lies the world's rich fools, who died miserable poor men? Luk. 12.20. Eccles. 2.18, to 24.  
160. Whether King Cyrus his kisses to his Favourites, were not of greater value than the golden Cups he gave to strangers (as Xenophon reports?) and whether God's special love, be not much more desirable than his common mercies? Exod. 19.5. Cant. 1.2.   

XVII. DECAD.  
161. Whether honest thrift, and ingenuous industry in men's particular Callings (always provided that God hath his due share of their hearts, and their time in his Service) are not great gatherers, and fill not the bag apace? and whether that which men get by lying, cozening, cheating, and stealing, is not want to be put into a bag that hath many holes in it? Prov. to. 4. & 12.24, 27. & 22.29. also, Micah 6.10, 11, 12. Hag. 1.6.  
162. Whether a good Conscience be not a Nightingale, that sings all the year long in a man's own bosom? the best and most sure friend in evil times? and a continual Feast, affording the daintiest dishes in their proper seasons? Act. 23.1. & 24.16. Rom. 9.1. 2 Cor. 1.12. 1 Tim. 1.5, 19 & 3.9. 2 Tim. 1.3. Heb. 13.18. 1 Pet. 3.16, 21. Prov. 15.15. & 14.14.  
163. Whether the loss of ones inward peace, for the greatest profits and preferments in the world, can possibly be recompensed thereby, or be recovered again with ease? Mat. 16.26.  
164. Whether temporal things, are not first desired, and than had, but spiritual things first had, and than desired? and whether true desires of Grace, do not suppose and proceed from Grace? Neh. 1.11. Esa. 20.8, 9 2 Cor. 8.12.  
165. Whether the Graces of the Spirit of God, may not sometimes be found environed with ill natures, and thorny dispositions, as ripe Strawberries among nettles, and under briry bushes? 1 Cor. 6.10, 11.  
166. Whether the highest stars make not the quickest motions, and heavy bodies, when nearest their centres? and whether the holiest hearts do not the like, in their Heavenly motions towards God? Psal. 63.8. & 143.6, 9 & 119.60.  
167. Whether the speech used by a Persian Queen, when her King gave her a most costly Jewel to wear, saying, You Sir, are my only Jewel; may not most properly and truly be uttered by the Spouse of Christ, to him her Sovereign Lord and Husband? Prov. 5.10, to 16.  
168. Whether in times of desertion, one may conclude, God's face will not shine again, any more than by a dark Night, that the Sun will not return in the Morning? and whether a burning-glass, that hath nothing in it at midnight, may not the next day, be full of condensed and flaming beams? Psal. 30.5. & Psal. 4.6. & 80.3, 19 Esa. 54.6, 7, 8. & 57.17, 18.  
169. Whether a gracious heart, may not interchangeably enjoy assurance, and be troubled with doubtings? and whether Faith of adherence, be not a good relief in the want of assurance, though one should live and dye without it? Cant. 8.5. Job 13.15.  
170. Whether purity of heart and life, be not a most necessary qualification for Heaven? and whether those that want this, or scoff at it, under the names of Puritan, Round-head, Fanatic, or such other opprobrious terms, are ever like to come there without Repentance? Mat. 5.8, 20. & 12.14. also, Rev. 22.15.   

XVIII. DECAD.  
171. Whether Masters and Mistresses, are not answerable for the souls of their Servants, as well as their Children? and whether they aught not to train up them also, in the nurture and admonition of the Lord? Gen. 18.19. Josh. 24.15. Psal. 101.6, 7. Esth. 4.16. Nehem. 13.19. Eph. 6.9. Col. 4.1.  
172. Whether Servants, both males and females, are not than most diligent, faithful, and cheerful in their places; and do not than give that respect and reverence which is due unto them they serve, when they remember, well consider, and practice what God requires of them in his Word, especially in, Eph. 6.6. & Colos. 3.22. Tit. 2.9, 10. where they are commanded to obey their Masters in all things, not with eye-service, as men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart, fearing God?  
173. Whether the world hath not as much need of the labour of the poor, as of the wealth of the rich? and whether the inclining of all sorts of persons respectively, to a natural affectation to, and delight in, the several Callings and employments which they voluntarily choose, how mean, base, and servile soever they are, be not a great argument of the wise and wondered Providence of God, overruling particulars, for the good of the whole? Esa. 28.24, to 29. & Gen. 4.20, 21, 22. Act. 17.26.  
174. Whether he be not the best Scholar that hath most learned Christ? and the best read in the Scriptures, that is most guided by them? Act. 4.13. Eph. 4.21. 2 Tim. 3.15, 16.  
175. Whether the purest and sweetest knowledge be not derived from Gods own Book, the Bible? and whether there only are not the richest Ours to dig in? the fullest stores and magazines, of all desirable good things? Prov. 2.1, to 10. Psal. 19.7, to 11. Colos. 3.16.  
176. Whether the light of God's countenance cannot make day in the darkest soul at midnight? and one kind word from him, revive the heart in the midst of the pangs of death? and whether he be in any danger of sinking, that is supported with everlasting arms? or of fainting, that is refreshed with the cordials of Divine Love? Psal. 4.6. & 27.1. & 36.9. Can. 2.3, 4, 5. Esa. 2.14. & 40.11. Deut. 33.27.  
177. Whether the same omnipotent Power of God, that is an hedge of protection to his People, and a wall of brass for their defence, is not an hedge of thorns to scratch their enemies, and a wall of fire to devour them? job 1.10. jer. 1.18, 19 Act. 9.5.  
178. Whether any one can possibly be devoured in a den of fiercest Lions, or drowned in the deepest waters, or burned in the most raging flames, while God is there with him, and undertakes his safety? Dan. 6.22. & Chap. 3.25. Exod. 14.21, 22. Esa. 43.2.  
179. Whether the sweetest nature, that can be found amongst men, can get to Heaven without grace? and whether the lest degree of Grace will not meliorate and sweeten the most crabbed and unpleasing nature? Phi. 3.6, to 11.  
180. Whether married or unmarried, young men or old, Virgins, Wives, or Widows, can live happily, or dye comfortably, without a sure interest in, union to, and Communion with Jesus Christ? Joh. 14.19. 1 Joh. 5.12. Cant. 1.2, 3.   

XIX. DECAD.  
181. Whether hardness of heart, and final impenitency, be not of all Judgements the most dreadful? and whether the serious consideration thereof, would not damp the joy of the most riotous sinner in the world, and make him tremble every moment, for fear of his dropping presently into Hell? Rom. 2.5. Psal. 7.11, 12, 13. Job 21.12, 13, 23, 24, 25.  
182. Whether that conviction which ends not in true conversion, doth not still leave a man under the power of sin, in the gall of bitterness, and the state of damnation? and whether convinced sinners should not look well to this? Mat. 18.3. Act. 3.19. & 8. 22, 23.  
183. Whether he that never knows any more than one birth, that is, a mere natural birth only, be not sure to dye three deaths, viz. a natural, spiritual, and eternal? and whether he that passeth through two births, and so is born again, shall not be sure to escape the two later deaths, and found the other also upon the matter, no death at all, properly so called, but a sweet sleep rather? Joh. 3.3. Rev. 20.6. 1 Thess. 4.14, 15.  
184. Whether the death of Infants, be not an unanswerable Argument to prove that they have sin in them, at lest Original Sin, as well as those of grown age, for how else could they be subject to death, which is the wages of sin only? Rom. 3.22, 23. & 5.12. & 6.23.  
185. Whether a Believer, standing on the mount of a Promise, may not from thence take a pleasant prospect of Heaven, and particularly of the glorification of his own human nature, sitting at God's right hand, in the person of his Saviour? and whether after such a fight as this, all things here below will not look dim and duskish, as colours do through Church-windows, when the Sun shines bright upon them? Act. 7.55, 56. Heb. 11.1, 13, 14, 15. 2 Cor. 5.1, 2, 3, 4.  
186. Whether the same flowers, that ere while were seen under a warm and a shining Sun, to display themselves with great beauty and cheerfulness, may not hung dangling soon after with drops of rain, and be violently dashed with stormy showers, ●om a black and tempestuous Heaven ●ver them? and whether such a ●hange may not possibly befall the Graces and Comforts of God's dearest Children, and yet they remain his Children still, as the other remain flowers? Psal. 88 throughout, Esa. 63.7, 8, 9 Jer. 31.18, 19, 20.  
187. Whether in times of greatest afflictions, and inward seeming desertions, the Graces of holy hearts may not smell sweetest, as Flowers do after showers of rain, Spices, when most bruised, Rose-waters, in the Limbeck, and Juniper-wood, in the burning flames? Psal. 51.17. Cant. 2.14. & 5.5, 6. & 8.6, 7.  
188. Whether the very excellency of holy gratitude, consists not in this, viz. as fast as our mercies grow fresh and new upon us, in what kind soever, to present them as so many newblown flowers to God, to have the first smell of them? Esa. 18.7. Psalm 72.10. & Psal. 76.11.  
189. Whether Christ, and the Spirit of Grace, are not two great Comforters, as well by the appointment o● God the Father, as their own free consent, in which Believers only have 〈◊〉 special interest? and whether for this reason, among others, the four Ecumenical Councils of Nice, Constantinople, Ephesus and Chalcedon, in clearing and establishing the Doctrines of Christ his Divine Person, the distinction of the two natures subsisting in it, and the Deity and Personality of the Spirit, against Arrius, Macedonius, Nestorius, and the rest of the Heretics of those times, did not eminent service unto the Gospel? Joh. 14.16, 17, 18, 26.  
190. Whether it be not a most notorious absurdity and contradiction to affirm, that the Spirit of Grace, which is supernatural, and altogether invincible in itself, can ever be so far resisted or quenched, as to be totally ex●elled out of that heart, where it hath ●een once received in truth? and ●hether the heart of man, being deceitful above all things, full of imagination's, which are only evil, and that continually, & so desperately wicked, that ●one can know it, can be supposed to have any the lest power to fetch in saving Grace of itself? and whether he that asserts these two dangerous points, doth not, implicitly at lest, deny the absolute freeness and unchangeableness of God's love, and make his Acts of Grace vallid or invallid, according to the will of his own Creature? Gen. 6.5. Jer. 17.9. 2 Cor. 3.5. Joh. 15.5. compared with, Rom. 9.15. Mal. 3.6. Ezek. 36.31, 32.   

XX. DECAD.  
191. Whether sanctified contentment, will not make every condition sweet? and the contrary, make any thing, be it never so satisfactory and comfortable in itself, burdensome and intolerable to the restless mind? and whether true thankfulness or unthankfulness for mercies received, are not proportionable to these two? 1 Tim. 6.6. Exod. 16.2, to 22. Psal. 106.24, 25.  
192. Whether one may not be very poor and very rich at the same time? and whether some men in their rags, have not a great interest in God, while others in their stately Robes, have none at all? Jam. 2.5. Luk. 16.19, to 24.  
193. Whether poor Servants, and others in lowest condition, should not take arguments from their own meanness here in this world, to seek after the Kingdom of Heaven the more diligently, that so they may have as large Revenues there as any others? and whether our Saviour doth not imitate as much, where he saith, the poor receive the Gospel? Zeph. 3.12. Mat. 11.5. Mark 12.42. Luk. 4.18. & 6.20.  
194. Whether Parents that have many Children, and but little or nothing to leave with them when they die, have not the more need to seek after Portions of Grace for them, pour forth many Prayers, and exercise much Faith in the Covenant of Grace, on Grace on their behalf? Gen. 17.7. Act. 2.39. Psal. 37.29. 1 Sam. 1.27. compared with, Chap. 2.7. Gen. 48. throughout.  
195. Whether Faith in Christ, the great Saviour and deliverer of mankind, be not the best Midwife to women in travel, and the best Nurse for them and their Children afterwards? and whether their chiefest care should not be to make sure of this Midwife and Nurse, above all others? 1 Tim. 2.15. Psal. 91.14, 15, 16.  
196. Whether idleness be not the Devil's cushion? and whether slothfulness doth not gather filth, as standing waters do mud? Ezek. 16.49. 1 Tim. 5.13.  
197. Whether a firm persuasion of God's omniscience, omnipresence, hatred of sin, and of his power and resolution to punish it, where not repent of, would not prevent millions of sins that are hourly committed throughout the whole world? Psal. 50.21, 22. & 90.8. & 139.1, to 13.  
198. Whether the bore believing that there is a God, that Christ is the Son of God, the Scriptures the Word of God, and that all men aught to walk according to them, be any other kind of faith, than the Devils themselves have? Jam. 2.19, Mat. 8.29. & Chap. 4.6.  
199. Whether to bear and forbear among Friends and near Relations, be not excellent and most necessary duties? and yet how difficultly are they learned? and how few are there that practice them well? Rom. 15.1. Gal. 6.2. Ephes. 4.2. Colos. 3.13.  
200. Whether growing in Grace, be not the only way to thrive? and whether he doth not become richer and richer that trades at this Mart, and without fear too of losing what he hath already got? 2 Pet. 3.18. Prov. 3.13, 14, 15. & 4.7, 8, 9   

XXI. DECAD.  
201. Whether the Office of Ambassadors, the Arts, cares and pains of Shepherds, Fishermen, Husbandmen, Carpenters, with divers others such like, aught not to be known to, and imitated by those Ministers of the Gospel, that have the oversight and trust of Souls? and whether they are not the best Preachers that move the hearts of their Hearers, more than tickle their heads? 2 Cor. 5.20. Cant. 1.8. Mat. 4.19. 1 Cor. 3.9, to 14. & Chap. 2.4.  
202. Whether the plague upon the Streams, Rivers, Ponds, and Pools of water, in the Land of Egypt (Exod. 7.) were not as dreadful as any of the other plagues? and whether impurities in Universities and other Schools of Learning, be not as great a plague as that, and as much to be dreaded and prayed against? Psal. 23.2. Ezek. 47.1, to 13.  
203. Whether young Scholars, that take upon them the work of the Ministry, before they are well lined with Learning, and have thoroughly studied the whole Body of Divinity, are not like new rigged Ships, that are put out to Sea, without ballast or burden?  
204. Whether sanctified Studies, in a Learned head and Holy heart, do not reduce Ethics, Metaphysics, and Theology into one Science?  
205. Whether many a sweet kernel, doth not lie in the Criticisms of the Original Languages of the Holy Scriptures?  
206. Whether John Bradford, that blessed Martyr, was not worthily called Holy Bradford, who prayed as much as he studied, did both upon his knees, and seldom or never sat at meals without wetting his trencher with his tears, either of godly sorrow for sin, or from a melting warm love to God? Psal. 6.6. Luk. 7.37, 38.  
207. Whether he that delights in Hunting, be it for love of the Venison, or for sport, can pick out more pertinent Scriptures to meditate upon, than the Preface of the 22. Psal. where Christ is called the Hind of the Morning? and the first verse of the 42. Psal. where David saith, that his soul panted after God, as the Hart pants after the water-brooks?  
208. Whether Goldsmiths can deal any any where for such pure gold, as is mentioned, Rev. 3.18. or the Vintner, for such rich Wines, as we read of in, Esa. 25.6. & Cant. 5.1. & 8.2. and whether it is not their chiefest wisdom, to drive their whole stock there?  
209. Whether a seedsman shall not do well to consider, that he that sows most tears for sin, shall have the richest crop? and the Ploughman, that his Plough in the field will speed much the better, when he is careful in the due seasons of it, to Plough up the fallow ground of his own heart too? Psal. 126.5, 6. Jer. 50.4, 5. Luk. 6.21. also, Jer. 4.3. Hos. 10.12.  
210. Whether there be just reason for any to despair, since it is not possible for the sins of any to be so great or numerous, as God's mercies are infinite? and these most freely offered to them that have the greatest need of them? Esa. 55.1, 2, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10. 2 Sam. 24.14. 1 Chron. 21.13. Mat. 11.28, 29. Joh. 6.37. Heb. 4.16. Rev. 22.17.   

XXII. DECAD.  
211. Whether the Pope be not Antichrist in the Judgement of Ribera himself, though a jesuit, and many others of their own most learned Writers?  
212. Whether the slaughter of the Witnesses, be not the immediate forerunner of the downfall of Antichrist, though the darkest dispensation is not the inlet of the happiest times that ever the world yet saw? and whether the duration thereof will not certainly end at three years and an half from the true Epocha and beginning thereof? Rev. 11. throughout.  
213. Whether the doctrine of the Spiritual Reign of Christ on earth for a thousand years in a sober sense, were not a common received doctrine by the Fathers of the first ages after Christ? and whether he that consults, Iraeneus, Tertullian, Lanctantius and others, without prejudice will not found it so? Rev. 20.6.  
214. Whether the Conversion of the jews, aught not to be believed and prayed for▪ and whether it be not propable, that one special means thereof may be by Christ his own appearing in the Clouds, so as every eye shall see him, as he did to Saul the Jew, when he was going to Damascus? Ezek. 36. & 37. throughout, & Chap. 39.23, to 29. Zachar. 9 & 10. throughout.  
215. Whether the Society of the Jesuits are not the richest, most subtle, potent, diffusive and influential on the affairs of the whole world, of any others? and whether they spare for any cost to procure, or want correspondents to give them the knowledge of greatest secrets in Princes Courts?  
216. Whether all the Monarches and States, both small and great upon the whole habitable earth, have so many Emissaries and Agents abroad, as one single man, the Pope? and whether they take not upon them all manner of names, shapes, habits, trades, and employments, where they come?  
217. Whether the Pope his craft, in setting on foot and continuing the Holy War in Palestine for almost 200. years, was not as great as devout Bernard's mistaken zeal was, in promoting of it? and whether the Popes ever since, have not been as crafty Foxes for themselves, among the Princes of Europe?  
218. Whether such unparallelled usurpations, insolences, uncleannesses, Sodomies, sorceries, witchcrafts, cruelties, blasphemies, and all manner of most horrible impieties, have been ever found among any sort of men since the Creation of the world, as among the Popes?  
219. Whether Pope Alexander the 6th. was not rightly served, while himself was poisoned with the first draught of that Cup, which he and his complices had prepared to poison others?  
220. Whether Caesar Borgia his Son, the Duke of Florens, among all the plots laid by him and his crafty Secretary, Matchiavil, committed not a foul error, in not thinking of, and providing for a surprise by death? and whether himself did not see it, and repent of it, when it was too late, as the History of his life witnesseth?   

XXIII. DECAD.  
221. Whether much credit be to be given to the Popish Editions, of Ambrose, Chrysostom, Jerom, Augustine, and all the rest of the Greek and Latin Fathers, (whose Authorities they urge so much upon us) since their Index expurgatorius, hath been in use? and whether many of their Schoolmen, which they so much boast of, do not abound more with nice and needless distinctions, than sound Divinity?  
222. Whether Popery, spreading so greatly as it doth in all parts of the world, it be not a foul shame for Protestants to be so divided, and thereby weakened among themselves? and whether it be not matter of sport, even to Satan himself, to see what irreconcilable differences and ammosities still continued among them?  
223. Whether God will long bear it at the hands of his own Children, thus in his sight and presence to quarrel, fall out and fight with each other? and whether, when nothing else will quiet and reconcile them, the Rod shall not? 1 Cor. 3.3. & 11.18.  
224. Whether since Grace is the most uniting Principle in the very nature of it, and sin the most dividing Principle, it is not just cause of wonder, that the People of God of all others, should be so much divided, and wicked men so firmly knit among themselves? and whether any reason can possibly be given for it, but the prevalency of sin on their part, and Gods just judgement in permitting it, by way of punishment on his part? Rom. 16.17, 18. 1 Cor. 6.1, to 9  
225. Whether those Scholars are not great wasters and abusers of their time and studies, who take much pains to get all manner of Learning, except the knowledge of the Bible and their own hearts?  
226. Whether a Believers habitation, be not of all others, the most stately? and whether it be not seated in the finest air, and with advantage of the bravest Prospect? Psal. 90.1. & 91.1, 9 1 Joh. 4.16. Heb. 11.16.  
227. Whether it be worth the while to live, unless it be to answer the ends of our Creation, and to be fit to dye? and whether Watermens, Mariners, and all that travel by Sea, have not as much reason as any, to be provided for death every moment? Jam. 4.14. Job 9.25, 26. Psal. 39.4, 5, 6. & 90.4, to 13. job 14.14.  
228. Whether the leaves of Trees, that fall so fast in Autumn, and the sight of a flourishing Garden, deprived of all or most of its fair Flowers, that stood there but an hour before, are not lively Emblems of man's mortality, and the suddenness of his remove by death, especially in times of great sicknesses, and Epidemical diseases? Psal. 39.10, 11. & 90.5, 6. & 103.15, 16. job 13.25. Esa. 64.6.  
229. Whether among those that attend at Funeral solemnities, there be one of twenty usually, that make the sad occasion of their appearance there, the subject of their own thoughts, or the matter of their discourse with others? and whether this be not an argument of a common, and very great insensibleness among men, of the strokes of God upon them, and the hardness of their hearts under them?  
230. Whether the highest Angels, & the lowest worms, are not fellow-creatures? & whether there be not an infinite distance, as well between God and the highest creatures, as between him & the lowest? and whether the consideration thereof, should not make poor mortals, even the greatest that are, to walk humbly towards God? job 42.5, 6. Esa. 6.2. job 15.14, 15, 16.   

XXIV. DECAD.  
231. Whether a clear and full sight of God, be not the only way for a man to come to the right knowledge of himself? and whether this, of all things else, is not most to be desired, and speedily sought for by him? Job 42.5, 6. Psal. 139.1, to 18.  
232. Whether they that bear the most eminent testimonies for Christ upon earth, shall not bear the biggest palms in their hands, and stand nearest his Throne in Heaven? Rev. 7.9, to 17.  
233. Whether it be likely, that they will ever be convinced of the evil of those actions, which being once done, they are resolved to justify, and instead of amending, recriminate upon others? and whether it be not a most deplorable thing, that bitter exaspirations, and mutual accusations of this nature, should be found among the differing parties of Gods own People, in times wherein all had need to seek peace with God and among themselves, and do their utmost, by a meek healing spirit, to make up all breaches? 1 Cor. 3.3, 4. Gal. 5.10, to 16. & 6.1, 2. 1 Thes. 4.9, 10, 11. Eph. 4.2, 3.  
234. Whether God doth not touch the heart first, with his powerful magnetic Love, before it ever moves or can move in the lest towards him? and whether the eye of Christ, did not first spy Zacheus in the Sycomore-tree, Nathaniel under the Figtree, and Mary in the Garden, before ever they spied him? 1 Joh. 4.19. Hos. 11.4. Luk. 19.5. joh. 1.48. & 20.13, 14, 15, 16.  
235. Whether those comforts that fail in the dried streams, as in the loss of Husbands, Wives, Parents, Children, all other near and dear Relations, Friends and Estates, with whatever else is of like nature, can be made up any where, so well as in and by the Original Fountain of them all, God himself? and whether it be not the greatest wisdom when all is done, to hasten thither with all possible speed that may be? job 6.15. & 19.13, to 20. Prov. 23.5. Habak. 3.17, 18, 19 Psal. 36.9, 10.  
236. Whether to make an absolute, free and full resignation of ones self, and all that one hath, to the Will of God, to be disposed of as he pleaseth, be not the only way to give him the Glory of his Soveraingnty? and whether to do or suffer any thing for him, with a willing and cheerful heart, doth not argue much Grace, and is not to be accounted an high Honour? 2 Sam. 15.25, 26. Psal. 40.7, 8. Mat. 26.39, 40.  
237. Whether they that follow Christ in good earnest, do not deny themselves, and take up their Cross daily? and whether they are not in mind always resolved, ready and prepared, to part with House, Land, Revenues, Estate, Liberty, and Life too, if called for, rather than forsake Christ? Mat. 4.20. & 16.24, 25. Mark 10.29, 30.  
238. Whether every Promise, Prophecy, and Threatening in God's Word, hath not hitherto been most punctually performed, in the due season of it, in all former ages, even to a tittle? and whether there be any the lest reason to doubt, that what is not yet accomplished, shall be when the sit time is come? Gen. 48.15, 16. Exod. 12.41, 42. Micah 7.20. 1 King. 13.1, to 6. compared with, 2 King. 23.4, to 9 Gal. 4.4. Eph. 1.10. Mat. 5.18.  
239. Whether those that have escaped from dangerous diseases, long and wasting sicknesses, or death itself, when they were without all hope or expectation of recovery, are not in all likelihood, reserved for some great good or evil? and whether it be not a duty incumbent on them, to consider much of it, and lay it to heart? Esa. 38. throughout.  
240. Whether Physicians, of all others, have not the best opportunities, sometimes to deal effectually with the souls of their sick, or dying Patients, about the matters of eternity, if they have but the heart and the skill to do it? and whether God doth not expect they should improve this advantage for him, as well as for themselves and their Patients?   

XXV. DECAD.  
241. Whether the guilt of very many of the sins, both in City and Country, be it drunkenness, uncleanness, swearing, Sabbath-breaking, and whatever else is of like kind, doth not lie at the Magistrate's door, unless he put forth the utmost Power that God hath given him, to punish and reform them? and whether God ever intended that he should wear his sword in vain? Rom. 13.1, to 8.  
242. VV●●● her naked breasts and black spots, do not argue foul hearts? and whether the Ladies that use them, would be willing to appear in such a dress at the day of Judgement? or may not meet with sore rebukes herealso, as the daughters of Zion did, in Esa. 3. from v. 16, to 25.  
243. Whether wanton looks, wanton guarbs, wanton words, and wanton books, be not the Devils snares to catch, and the Devils poisons to vitiate and deprave hearts? and whether all manner of unlawful sports and games, do not insensibly undo thousands here, and than before they are ware of it, trapan them into Hell, out of which there is no recovery? Esa. 3.16, to 25. Rom. 13.13. Gal. 5.19. Eph. 4.19. 1 Pet. 4.3, 4. Job 21.12, 13.  
244. Whether false wares, false weights, false lights, false measures, and false asseverations, are not too frequent in Tradesman's shops ●nd whether the gain that com●s in that way, lies not under an eating, (though haply at the present an undiscerned) curse? Prov. 11.1. & 12.22. Micah 6.10, 11, 12.  
245. Whether nature will not be content with little, and Grace with lesle? and whether a Righteous man's little, be not more than a wicked man's much? 1 Tim. 6.6. Prov. 15.16, 17. & 16.8.  
246. Whether Believers have not possession of Heaven already, since their Head is there? and whether Christ be not gone thither before hand, as a Messenger or Harbinger, to trim up the Lodgings appointed for them, and to secure them for them, till they come themselves? Joh. 14.2. Heb. 6.20.  
247. Whether the soul be not a glorious Bride, when once Christ is become its Bridegroom; especially since he marries it not in its own clotheses, but such as are fitted for it, out of the Wardrobes of Heaven? Mat. 25.10. Esa. 61.10. Rev. 21.2.  
248. Whether she be not the most amiable Virgin, and will not make the sweetest Wife, that hath Christ lying as an handful of Myrrh continually between her breasts? Cant. 1.13. & 5.4, 5.  
249. Whether early and young Saints, are not as acceptable to God, as rare and choice fruits, set ripe on a Prince's board some weeks before the ordinary seasons of them? Jer. 2.2. Eccles. 12.1.  
250. Whether a Believer, brightly shined on by the light of Gods pleased countenance, and at the same time giving out the lustres of his inherent graces to standers-by, be not a rich Diamond that sparkles in the midst of Sunbeams? Psal. 31.16. & 110.3. Mat. 5.16. Phil. 2.15.   

XXVI. DECAD.  
251. Whether the People of God are not his Jewels? Mal. 3.17. yea, his Crown, his glorious Crown, and Royal Diadem? Esa. 62.3. yea, his Crown-Jewels? Zach. 9.16. and whether he will suffer these his Jewels to lie long in the dirt, or this his Crown to be always trodden under the feet of his enemies?  
252. Whether God having freely and most strongly tied himself to his People, both by his Word, his Promise and his Oath (such a threefold knot, as there is none like to it) be not greatly injured by such as disbelieve, or make question in the lest of his performances? Heb. 3.12. & 6.16, 17, 18, 19 Mat. 13.58.  
253. Whether holy Meditations do not devil on the very Hill of Frankincense, and on the Mount of Spices? & whether every busy thought, like the nimble honey-Bee, doth not pass from blossom to blossom, from flower to flower, that is, from one Promise' to another, from one Providence to another, and so through the variety of all sorts of pleasant subjects, and gather sweetness, till it hath filled its whole Hive (the heart) with the purest honey? Psal. 104.34. & Psal. 94.19.  
254. Whether frequent and faithful examinations of ones inward state, and how things stand between God and the soul, be not a most necessary and important duty? and whether this, of all things else, aught not to be most diligently minded, whatever else be neglected? Psal. 4.4. 2 Cor. 13.5.  
255. Whether Apostatizers, Time-servers, and all such as shamefully desert their formerly received sound Principles and holy Practices, do not consult destruction to themselves, and run the hazard of those sore curses, mentioned in, Deut. 29.21?  
256. Whether he that abounds altogether in his own sense; accounts whatever himself affirms to be as authentic as some divine Oracles is a●●ry with, and severely censorious of, those that do not, or cannot forsake their own Principles as all false, and embrace his as all Truth, be not guilty, at lest, of the suspicion of Pride? or whether he be not a kind of little Pope, that pretends to infallibility, whilst perhaps under strong delusion? and whether such an one be not rather to be neglected, than disputed with? Jam. 1.12. Prov. 21.24. 2 Thess. 2.10, 11.  
257. Whether evil thoughts are not the spawns of sin, and evil words and actions the products of those spawns? and whether Cockatrice's eggs, while hatched by Cockatrices, will not bring forth their own kind? Mat. 12.33, to 38. & 15.18, 19, 20. Esa. 59.4, 5.  
258. Whether every man aught not to be very careful what objects he fixeth his eye and his heart upon? and whether God be not King of hearts, and deserves not that every man should give him (not a part only but) his whole heart? and whether he that doth this, doth not take the wisest course, to make the worst part of himself to become the best? job 31.1. Psal. 62.10. Prov. 23.26. Ezek. 36.26.  
259. Whether being imposed upon, in matters of Conscience, where Christ hath left it free, be not as grievous and intolerable from one sort of men as from another? and whether, if there be any difference, it be not most intolerable from those that are, or have been, or at lest pretend to be Brethrens?  
260. Whether the right stating and granting of true Christian liberty, so as to prevent licentious extravagances on the one hand, and unjust severity on the other hand, would not be most satisfactory to all peaceably-minded good men? and whether till this can be done, it be not best for every one to think it possible, that he may be under some mistakes as well as his dissenting Brethrens, and so resolve to allow and receive a mutual freedom in following their respective light, and exercising a friendly familiarity, and hearty love towards one another? Gal. 5.1. Eph. 4.2, 3. 1 Thess. 4.9. Heb. 13.1. 2 Pet. 1.7.   

XXVII. DECAD.  
261. Whether the most exact platform of the purest Church, both for Doctrine, Worship, and Discipline, aught not to be the constant Rule, Standard, and Pattern to all the rest? and whether such a platform can be given by any, but God himself; or is to be looked for, or can be found any where else, but in the Word of God, and in that only? Exod. 25.40. Heb. 8.5. & 9.23.  
262. Whether some Churches may not, as to essentials, be true Churches, though very corrupt, and so be far from conformity to their true Pattern, (as a leprous man is a true man, notwithstanding his Leprosy?) but whether it be not the duty of every such Church, to endeavour to their utmost, the nearest agreement attainable to the pattern aforesaid? Rev. 22.18, 19 Phil. 3.17.  
263. Whether in case such Churches, as are now last mentioned, do not profess they aught, or do not visibly intent and endeavour in good earnest, with all their might, to be every way like their Original Pattern, both in Doctrine, Worship, and Discipline; it be not the duty of every one that would live and dye with a clear and quiet conscience, to come out from among such Churches, and join with those that come nearest the said Original Pattern? and whether this kind of separation, even from true Churches thus corrupted, and willing to continued so, be not as justifiable as separation from a false Church? yea, and whether such a separation as this, be not so far from being blame-worthy, that it is absolutely necessary, and must be performed, by all that desire to become God's People, and would have him devil among them? 2 Cor. 6.14, 15, 16, 17, 18.  
264. Whether the great noise and cry that is abroad in the world against separation, would not be much silenced, if once the  Rule and Standard of the first pure Churches in the Scripture, were every where agreed to, admitted, and observed? and whether in the mean time, the Papists do not think they have as much reason to accounted Protestants to be Separatists, as several parties of Protestants do accounted each other?  
265. Whether the sight of any person or persons, that are very poor, beggarly, hungry, ragged, naked, wounded, maimed, diseased, deformed, or any way miserable, should not both occasion pity in us towards them, and excite us, as we are able, to comfort and relieve them; but also 'cause us to lift up thankful hearts, that we are not in their case? 1 Cor. 4.6, 7.  
266. Whether all that Trade in Victualling, as Cooks, Vintners, Drawers of Ale or Beer, and such like, do not put the poison of a Curse into their own dishes and Cups, while they so greatly contribute to the sinful waste of the good Creatures of God, in supplying their gluttonous and drunken Guests with whatever they call for, till they become no better than brutes in disgorging themselves, and casting out their filthy vomits? Esa. 28.3, 8.  
267. Whether sanctification of Sabbaths, a right and holy participation of Sacraments, diligent reading and hearing of the Word of God, heavenly Conference, and other the like Duties, are not always prized, attended upon, and practised more or lesle, according to the measure of Grace received by any? and whether the want of delight in them, or the accounting them a burden rather, be not an ill sign of an evil heart? Esa. 58.13. Mal. 3.16. 1 Cor. 11.23, to 30. Jam. 1.21, to 26. also, Mal. 1.12, 13. Amos 8.5.  
268. Whether a Believers, both Life and Treasure, doth not lie hidden and out of sight to the world, even as the roots of fruitful Trees lie under ground, and as gold and silver Ours run in the bowels of the earth undiscerned and unthought of, by them that walk upon it? Colos. 3.3, 4. Eph. 3.8, 9  
269. Whether in long and linger sicknesses, especially if accompanied with much pain and anguish, a patiented acquiescency under the hand of God, a submissive acceptance of the punishment of ones iniquity therein, and a cheerful satisfaction in the Will of God, who is pleased thus to use his Rod, be not an argument of a gracious frame of heart, and of a sanctified improvement of the affliction? and whether the contrary frame of spirit, doth not produce contrary effects? Rom. 5.3, 4. & 15.4, 5. Colos. 1.11. 2 Thess. 1.3. 2 Thess. 1.4. Heb. 6.12. Jam. 1.3, 4. & 5.10, 11. Levit. 26.41. Job 1.21, 22. & 2.10. also, Esa. 51.20. Jonah 4.9.  
270. Whether the education of Youth, be not a weighty business, a great trust, and a work that requires much care and diligence, wisdom and skill to manage it? whether it be not an eminent service (when well done) to Church and State, yea and to Christ himself too? and whether all Parents and Guardians of Children, Tutors in Universities, Schoolmasters and Shool-Mistrisses, aught not to be earnest with God in Prayer, for his constant assistance, and their comfortable success therein? Prov. 22.6. Eph. 6.4. 1 Sam. 19.20.   

Three concluding Queries.  
1. Whether Peter, Paul, and Barnabas in their times; Polycarpus, Ignatius, Tertullian, Cyprian, Athanasius, in their times; Ambrose, chrysostom, Augustine, in their times; our Guildas among the ancient Britain's; our English Wickleife, and Tindal, Oecolampadius, Martin Luther, Philip Melancthon, john Calvin, Beza, and the rest of the most famous, both Germane, and French-Divines, in their respective ages; yea, and whether John Knox, John Reynolds, Jewel, the Rogerses, our late Golden-mouthed Preston, Sibbs, Reverend Usher, and thousands more, the choicest and most successful Ministers of the Gospel, did ever blunt their own Holy Zeal, dispirit their own frequent Preaching, and cool the hearts of their Hearers, with reading every word from their written papers, and so turn their Sermons into Homilies? and whether, though in some cases, to some persons, some little use of notes may be allowable, and convenient, yea, perhaps necessary; yet the constant and total use of them by others (as is practised by too many in this our present age) doth not argue lazyness, or an over-affected niceness and curiosity in words and language, rather than such a Passionate desire of saving souls, as becomes the faithful Ministers of the Gospel? and lastly, whether it be likely, that those who accustom themselves to this way of reading, rather than Preaching Sermons, while they are young, and their memories as well as other parts be quick and nimble, will leave it when they are old, or will be ever able to preach in the dark, or when their sight grows dim?  
2. Whether the Apostle Paul by his command of doing all things decently and in order, 1 Cor. 14.40. intended any more than the doing of all those things only, which God by him his Penman had commanded and positively set down, and in the selfsame order and holy Method too, which he also had plainly and fully expressed? 1 Cor. 11.34. and 16.1, 2. Colos. 2.5. and whether it can be reasonably imagined, that Paul gave authority to Titus, (Chap. 1.5.) to invent or add any the lest circumstance for matter or manner, in or about the Worship of God in Crete, more than what he had formerly appointed, and himself Practised elsewhere? and lastly, whether the Prohibition of the Apostle, in Coloss. 2. from ver. 8. to the end, That none should be subject to Ordinances, according to the Commandments and doctrines of men in Will-worship, doth not extend to all following times, and all future Churches of Christ.  
3. Whether he that diligently reads and considers the 6th and 7th Chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, will not found, That the only occasion of Stephen the Proto-Martyr, being accused of Blasphemy and stone● to death, was his bold and resolute defence 〈◊〉 the spiritual Worship brought in by Christ, in opposition to the Jewish Rites and Ceremonies, which though appointed by God himself at first, yet now are out of date & usless? and whether this very thing was not one of those pretended Crimes, that Christ himself was arraigned for in the High Priests Hall? as appears in, Mat. 26.57, to 69. compared with, Joh. 4.19, to 27. and whether a good cause with a man's own innocency in the sight of God and his own conscience, be not one great support to him under the severest censures, and sharpest sufferings he can meet with from this world?   
FINIS.