ADDITIONS TO THE POETICAL FRAGMENTS, OF Rich, Baxter, Written for himself, and Communicated to such as are more for serious Verse than smooth. LONDON, Printed for B. Simmons at the Three Golden Cocks at the West-end of St. Paul's, 1683. A Supplement TO THE POETICAL FRAGMENTS. I. Grace. GOds perfect Power did this great World Create, God's perfect Wisdom all in Order Placed, God's perfect Goodness made all very Good, But Sin God's Image on Man's Soul defaced. Power caused Necessity, and Wisdom Order, And both by Goodness caused Harmony; All in one perfect Frame God's Glory show, Praise him and please him with pure Melody. Sin could not change Necessity, nor that Disorder which God fixed above Man's reach; But the Free Lord Free Agents also made, And there by Sin F●●●e-Will did make the breach. This Breach to Man was Punishment itself, For God before had ordered Nature so, That Poison would cause Pain, & Wounds cause smart; And Sin to Sinners Misery and Woe. Goodness is Love delighting to do good, Wisdom resolves this fowl breach to repair, And make advantage of Man's Sin and Woe, justice and Mercy largely to declare. Hurt is soon done: the Wound was quickly made, The Cure must be performed by degrees: A Saviour's Grace must exercised be, Wisdom with Love to do the Work decrees. Man's Soul Incorruptible Substance is Essential Life; not made itself to die. It's final State then like itself will be, Durable Happiness or Misery. But it is placed in Corruptible Flesh And the Compounded Frame that's called Man, Must be dissolved; for Sin hath caused death; And Flesh must turn to Earth, whence it began▪ But He who Man's Salvation undertaken Is perfect Primitive Life, Light and Love; And will give Compound Life again to Man, In joyful Glory with Himself above. But as in Nature God great difference made, Stones are not Men; all have their proper place; Men are not Stars, and Stars are not the Sun, So he will make great difference in Grace. Man is not helpless left to mear despair, Life is again made possible to all, The former terms of Innocence now cease, Mercies all Sinners to Repentance call. A Law of saving Grace is newly made, All that accept it and consent shall live, Trust but a Saviour for that blessed Life, And he will freely Grace and Glory give. But yet Man's Life on Earth a Warfar is, God's Grace and Satan's Malice daily Fight; And all that will be Saved must overcome; Sin's vanquished by Grace, Darkness by Light. Each part their Captain have, & they their bands, Not made by Force, but Doctrine and Consent; Each Man as Rational and Free Commands, One draws to Sin, the other to Repent. Sin hath its Punishment, the worst within, When for neglect of Grace, God it suspends But the correction of the Flesh for Sin, Furthers Repentance, and the Soul amends. Thus all on Earth have some degrees of Grace, Which Reason tells us, they should not abuse, Which bringeth some so far to Adam's case, They stand or fall as they these Mercies use. But God will not his Grace at random give, And leave the event to uncertainty, But hath his Chosen, who shall surely live, In whom his saving Grace shall never die. The two first Brothers did this War begin, he killed and conquered who was first by birth, He that seemed Conquered, Triumphed by death, The Victor's a cursed Vagabond on Earth. This War continued is unto this day, Between the Holy and the Serpent's seed, These Brothers the prognostic Instance were, Of all that ever after should succeed. But the worst War is inward; Grace and Sin, The controversy daily there debate That which the Final Victory doth win, Determineth Man's everlasting state. A Law of Grace thus made to all Mankind, In Adam and No common roots of all, Ill entertainment with fallen Man did find, Who mostly to Idolaty did fall. The strength of Sin is Love to Flesh and World, And averse strangeness to a better life. It stronger grew by custom, and abhorred All motions tending to the Souls relief. But Gods Electing Grace shall not be void, In Abel, Henoch, No he this declared, But specially in Abraham whose great Faith, He with a special Promise did reward. Not calling back the common Law of Grace, He chose his Seed as a peculiar Nation, Gave them a proper Law, and of them raised The Lord Incarnate, Author of Salvation. Yet was their Dignity most Typical, As was their Law, to show what God would do▪ When he the Nations unto Christ would call, And build his Church as Catholic anew. Sin soon prevailed; their Land was dry and small; Seldom from under Enemies and Waste; But they Gods Oracles preserved for us, And from their Vine we all Salvation taste. But as in Nature God works by degrees, From Seed to Infancy, from thence to Youth; From thence to Manhood and Maturity; So did he in revealing Grace and Truth. Fallen Man his Infancy and Childhood had, In the old Laws, dark Types and Prophecies: But in times fullness, God Incarnate came, The Sun of Righteousness to Man did rise. Three Laws he did fulfil, one as a Man, Once made for all; Another as a Jew: The third as Saviour proper to himself; Then for his Church, he made another new. He Preached God's Will; Proclaimed saving Grace, Brought to light Life and Immortality; Declared Gods Love; showed Man Gods pleased Face, A Sacrifice for sinful Man did die. He came to conquer Satan, destroy Sin, And heal sick Souls of Worldly Fleshly Love, To raise the Earthly Mind of Man to God, And bring him to a better Life above. Words were too weak for this, his works must do it. He was to teach Man how to bear the Cross, To deny Life and live above this World, For Heaven to count all here as Dung and Loss. Wonder of Wonders? God appears in Flesh, Preacheth to Sinners, calls them home to God, Dies for them as a Sinner on a Cross Till the Third day among the Dead Abode. Himself the greatest Wonder, many wrought, Healed all diseases, gave the blind their Sight, Raised the Dead; by present bare Command; Long, before many, in the open Light. The Third day rose from Death, stayed Forty days, Describes his Laws, Church-Covenant and Seals: Commissions his Apostles; promiseth His Spirit which all saving truth Reveals. Ascendeth up to Heaven before their Eyes, And before Multitudes at Pentecost, Gives them the gift of Miracles and Tongues, By giving them the promised Holy Ghost. They Preach Christ to the World, speak various Tongues. Work Miracles, Heal Sickness, Raise the Dead: Convey this Power and Spirit unto others, Thus through the World, the word of Life they Spread. These many Wonders, not in Corners wrought, Converted Thousands, Conquered unbelief, But above all, his great Convincing Works, The Spirits Sanctifying Grace was Chief. The erring know the Truth; Fools are made Wise, The Proud made humble, Wrathful ones made meek, The world's fond●lovers now do it despise, Kill fleshly Lusts, and Heavenly Glory seek. Sin is a hated thing, God now is all. Love makes all Common, for it makes all One, Zeal for good Works, Patience in bearing wrong, Were the true Marks by which Christ's flock was known. Had not Christ added this convincing Seal, Tongues, Miracles and Sanctifying Grace, The Wonder of Redemption is so great, That Faith to unbelief must needs give place. Apostles Mortal were: before they Die, For future Ages they Christ's sacred word, His Deeds, Laws, Doctrine by the promised Spirit, To guide the Church, infallibly record. As Moses gave the jews the only Law, Which following Priests and Prophets were to Teach, So th' Holy Ghost by the Apostles wrote, The word which after Ages were to Preach. As Moses Law was Sealed with Miracles, When such the following Ages did not need, So Christ's Apostles did by Wonders Seal, Those Records which the after Ages read. The Spirit promised to the Apostles was, To lead them to all needful saving Truth, And bring Christ's words to their remembrance, What they by his Commission did, Christ doth. Their Writings are the Holy Ghosts own Book, Though human Imperfection do appear; In Modes and Phrases, it's no just offence, But leaves the Truth, and Use still sure and clear. Words but the Vehicle of matter be, God's Spirit owns not the Translators words; But if as signs, they with his Words agree, The Sense and Matter of them is the Lords. This Spirit helps the Church, but not to bring Another Gospel, Law or Word from Heaven, Nor mend or change God's Laws in word or sense. But to preach and obey the word once given. To bring new Laws or Messages from God; A Prophet's Office is, and not a Priests, To forge such, or make Laws for all the Church, The Authors prove, false Prophets, or false Christ's. Christian Religion is one established thing, Which all the Church from first to last may know, It is not human, changeable or new, Nor doth by men's decrees increase and grow. If Canons no part of Religion be, But Laws for Rites and things indifferent; Why must all Christians needs in these agree, Or not agreeing by Church-Wars be rend. The Church hath all one Head, one perfect Law, All justified be by Christ's Blood and Merit; All that are true, though weak, Christ doth receive, For all are Sanctified by one Spirit. The Holy Ghost in all true Christians dwells, He doth illuminate, and make them New; This is Christ's Agent, and his Body forms. His Witness proving that his Word is true. This Spirit did the Gospel first Indite, And on it did God's Image first Ingrave, And then by it, as his great Instrument: That Image Prints on all that he will save. Though it be long of their resisting Will, That any of this Grace deprived be; Yet Scripture and Experience, clearly tell, That diffrencing, electing Grace is free. In Children it appears, when God doth choose, He gives a reachable and willing Mind; Good Dispositions, and Capacity, By Grace their Nature is to good inclined. Grace chooseth Parents careful of their Souls, Helps them to educate them in God's fear; To commend Virtue, and disgrace all Vice, Teach them Gods word, & causeth them to hear. God's Seed in such, is often early Sowed, And as they grow it springs up by degrees; As Plants, and Fruits, by Sun & Moisture growed, Whose present growth and motion no Man sees. The first beginnings of the Spirits work, Is in a learning Mind, and fear of Sin; A love and liking of good things and Men, Against Sins for Duty, Conscience strives within. Grace watcheth over them, provides them helps, Meet Teachers, Books, Examples, Company; Keeps off temptations, causeth them to hate Lying, bad Words and Deeds, and Ribaldry. Bad children's Hearts, are quite averst to good, They love not Virtue, relish not God's Law; Tempting Discourse, Examples, Vanities, Catch on their Hearts, as Fire doth on Straw. If early helps, Parents and Teachers fail, And Sin the childish Mind and Life pervert; If Folly, Flesh, and tempting Baits prevail, Yet God his chosen will in time convert. he'll either give them better Company, Or better helps, and Teachers whom he'll Bless; Or bring some useful Book unto their Eye, And make their Snares, & their Temptations less. Or he'll some sharp Affliction on them lay, Which may awake the hardened sleepy Heart; Or Conscience shall some quickening motion feel, Tell them their Sins, their Danger, and Desert. O! How the Case with Sinners now is changed, Things all appear now in another Shape; Sin now is Madness; Mad he calls himself, For loving Death, and thinks now how to Escape. Now God is Holy, Just, his Word is True, He is in earnest, though Sinners be in jest; The Face of all his Works and Ways seem New, Those things seem worst, which formerly seemed best. The common Texts and Truths he daily heard, Do now begin to have some Life and Sense: He wonders how he passed them by before, As if they had been of no Consequence. That wounds, & shames, and grieves, and breaks his heart. Which formerly was his Delight and Pleasure, That's Vanity, and mortal Poison now; For which he hungered as his Food and Treasure. Now the Mad Prodigal comes to himself, Perhaps the World doth him its Husks deny, Why, saith he, did I leave a Father's House? There none do want; here I must starve and die. O that I had not tasted Satan's Bait, Nor Pampered Flesh, and pleased vain Appetite, Neglected Grace, and things of greatest Weight, Nor meddled with Sins poisonous Delight. But the time lost can never be recalled, The works of Madness cannot be undone; I have undone myself; is there no help? I know all else is Vain: there is but one. A Father's Love affordeth me some hope, The World gives none: I must return or die; I'll go, and humbly, all my Sin confess, And cast myself upon his Clemency. But God is Just and Holy: how can I, Defiled with Sin and Gild, stand in his sight? Now the sick Soul a sure Physician needs, There is one Saviour, who is God's Delight. He is the Way, by whom Men come to God; He is the Truth, to save the World from Error; He is the Life, to save from endless Death, Self-Murdering Souls, subject to Hellish Terror. And now the Gospel's better understood; Redemption seemeth not a needless thing; His Thoughts are precious, of Christ's precious Blood, His Mediator, Prophet, Priest, & King. The Gospel now is Tidings of great Joy, Pardon of Sin, Adoption, Peace with God, Freedom from Terror, Satan, Sin, and Hell, Man's self-made, and Gods just Revenging Rod. He sees why Love in Man's repair, must be As much Admired, as Power in our Creation, Sinners cannot immediately God see, But by a Mediator have Salvation. Now all things else seem loss and dung for Christ; Wisdom is folly where Christ is left out; To know him is the true Philosophy; The rest doth teach Men but to prate and doubt. Some glimpse of God and Heaven, blurred Nature yields, But it's but as a Candle to this Sun; Others towards God and Heaven, may grope and creep, Christians with joyful hope, believe & run. But will Christ to such Sinners Saviour be, Who long and wilfully contemned his Grace? Yes, if they have but hearts to him to come; He excepts none: he'll all their Sins deface. The Prodigal now hopefully resolves, In Christ I'll trust, and to my Father go, When there's but one way, who should stand & doubt The Vanity of all things else I know. If in his House I may the lowest be, His wondrous Grace, I will with thanks proclaim; My Sin and Misery I will confess, And in Repentance take deserved Shame. And when repenting Souls are thus resolved, And with design do towards their Father come, They are surprised with unexpected love, Grace feasts, forgiv's them, bids them welcome home. Now the returned Soul doth dwell with God, And God in him; for there his Spirit dwells, God hath his highest Love, Heaven his chief hope, Christ is his Life; he trusteth to none else. O how much better, is it with him now; How wise, how safe, to what he was before, What he's yet short of, Faith hath in its view; he'll choose the way of Sin and Hell no more. Now farewell mortal Sin, stoop brutish Flesh, Now Pride & Lust come down, submit to Faith; Farewell ensnaring Sports and Company, Farewell Deceit, I'll hear what Scripture saith. Now all is New, new Judgements, Love and Life, New Hopes, Delights, a new intended End; The means than must be new, or better used; New friends, new thoughts, & all that to it tend. But yet, though out of Egypt he be come, Through the Red Sea, he's in a Wilderness; Faith must be tried by many Enemies, Hard Journeys, Wants, delayed Hopes, Distress. And Flesh still strives, Satan still busy is, The World will tempt, Sin's not quite overcome; Dark Fears and Unbelief do yet hang on, We are in hope, but are not yet at home. But yet we have the leading Fire and Cloud, The Law, the Angel's presence as we pass; Moses fell in the Wilderness: but there The Tempter by our Saviour vanquished was. The Law was weak, and nothing perfect made, Grace giveth light, and life, & love, and strength; And though it long, and oft assaulted be, It Conquereth, and Triumpheth at length. It is the work of God, who knows his own, And makes them Christ's beloved interest; All that are given him, he loves and keeps, And brings them to the promised Land of Rest. Grace suited is, to every Time and State, To Childhood, Manhood, and decrepit Age; An Antidote against contagious Pleasures, Yet grief, wrath, fear, and suffering doth assuage. It useth every State for the true end, It sanctifies Prosperity and Wealth; Still doing good, and doth to Godward tend, To him devoteth time, life, wit, and health. It useth Friends and Enemies for God, Improveth kindness, easily bears wrong; Loves others as ourselves, doth Right to all, Hopes for a blessed end, when sufferings long. It takes not too much part with pained Flesh, It ruleth Reason, Appetite, and Sense; Conquers Temptation, keepeth inward Peace, Keeps near to God, who is our sure Defence. It all the way foresees the blessed end, Motives to Duty, Comfort in all Grief, It fetcheth more from God & Heaven, than Earth, In every Case from Christ it finds Relief. It spendeth Health and Life in Preparation, For foreseen Death, and the Souls final change, It's not surprised without expectation; It trusteth Christ, when things unseen seem strange. All this Grace doth, in various degrees, In most but weak, Imperfect in the best; Clogged here with Flesh, and contradicting Sin, But ends in Glory and Eternal Rest. It's whole work is to bring Man's Will to God, As our Original, our Guide and End, Thankfully take his Grace, obey his Word, And wholly love him as our chiefest Friend. And more than so, to love him for himself, The final Object of Created Love; This only perfect ones, perfectly do, Who see God's Glory in the world above. Amen. jan. 6. 1682/ 3. II. Wisdom. HE that by Faith sees not the World of Spirits, Which Christ with his blessed Family Inherits, The Sense of Providence can never know, Nor Judge aright of any thing below. Things seem confused and neglected here, Because in broken parcels they appear; Who knows a Work in Arras by one Piece, Small parcels show not Workmen's Artifice? The Beauty of a Picture is not known, When one small part, or Limb alone is shown; They that on some few Letters only look, Can never know the meaning of God's Book. Who knows a stately Building by one Post, ●ts but short scraps that one Age sees at most; Heaven seeth all, and therefore knows the Sense, Of the whole beauteous frame of Providence. His Judgement of God's Kingdom needs must fail, Who knows no more of it than this dark Goal: If Heaven and Hell were open to men's sight, Most Men of present things would judge aright. Who would be grieved at prosperous sinners reign Who did foresee their everlasting pain? Who would grudge pride & rage, so short a power, Who did foresee its fall, and dismal hour. Who'd grudge God's Patience to the greatest crime, Which will scape Vengeance for so short a time: Who'd grudge at any wrong or suffering here, Who saw the World of happiness so near. If that one Sun a Thousand Fold excel, This Earth in bigness, where we Sinners dwell; (And what's one Sun to all the Heaven beside?) Is not God's Kingdom Glorious and wide? Who then dare say, God's work is not well done, Because an Anthill is not made a Sun: Or because Sin and devilish Rage do dwell, In this vile Prison, which is next to Hell. Who'd measure God's great Kingdom, or his Love, By us poor Prisoners who in Fetters move: God placed Man in Earthly Paradise, heavens outward Court, the way to highest bliss▪ And Man himself doing what God forbade, His House a Bedlam and a Bridewell made; Man turned it by his sinful base defection, Into God's Prison and House of Correction. God's wondrous Mercies, which do never fail, Fetch many Sons to Heaven out of this Goal: If the rest finally neglect God's Grace, And choose no better than this sinful place. The Dream of Pleasure which will end in shame, They had their choice, and whom else can they blame; Who'd censure God for one poor Bedlams sake, But such as of his Madness do partake. And though he rage, and sober Men disdains, Who loves his Case, or longeth for his Chains? Who envy wicked Men, their hurting Power, Who do believe their sad approaching hour? Who the Toads hurtful Venom envieth, Who'd have the Basalisks pernicious Breath? Who longs to be a Serpent for the Sting? It's worse to be a Great, but hurtful King. Christians by Patience win a better Crown, Than all the Bloody Conqueror's Renown. True Christian Kings, who Rule in Peace & Love, A better Kingdom have with Christ above. Our King may with more peace and safety Rule, Than the great Turk, Tartarian, or Mogul: No King so Mighty as the Devil is, Nor hath Dominions so large as his. Yet would no wise Man such a Devil be, That he might be as powerful as he; If any would be such, his own desire, Makes him a Devil fitted for Hell Fire. Madness called Wisdom is, and Rules in chief, With all that cannot see beyond this Life: To them that see not beyond Flesh and Blood, And taste no better than these Senses Food; That know not the true everlasting good, Nothing on Earth is rightly understood. The Heavenly Light must open Sinners Eyes, Before they ever will be truly Wise: One real prospect of the Life to come, A true belief whither men's Souls are gone, Would more felicitating Wisdom give, Than foolish sensual Men will now believe. Call not that Wisdom which will end in shame, Which undoes him who by it wins the Game: A Wit that can deceive himself and others, Wit to destroy his own Soul, and his Brothers: Wit that can prove that Sins a harmless thing, That Sin's no Sin, or no great hurt will bring; That with the Serpent can give God the Lie, And say, believe not God; you shall not die. Wit that can prove that God speaks but in jest, That present Fleshly Pleasue is Man's best: Wit that can prove God's Wisdom is deceived, And sacred Scriptures should not be received; Wit to confute God's Word, reject his Grace, Lose time, Sin boldly, post toward Hell apace. Defend the Devil's Cause, his own Damnation, 'Slight God, neglect a Saviour and Salvation. Call not that Wisdom, which Men would disown, And wish at last that they had never known, To go with honour, ease, and sport to Hell, And there with shame & late repentance dwell. Truth is for Goodness, Wisdom's Use, and End, To which true Learning, and just Studies tend; Is, that this may be throughly understood, To be Good, do Good, and get endless Good, False Wit employed in hurting other Men, Writes its own Death in Blood, with its own Pen: It forceth many to their self-defence, Who fain would live in quiet Innocence. Kites, Foxes, Wolves, have wit to catch their prey, Yet harmless Sheep, live quietter than they. Men keep their Flocks that they may multiply, So that but few by Wolves and Lions die; But hurtful ravenous Beasts, all men pursue, While all destroy them, there remains but few. Some slight God's Word, because weak Men abuse it what's Law or Reason then, when all misuse it. Men will not despise God, nor sin, nor die, But they will give a learned Reason why. What is so false, which Wit cannot defend, And that by Volumes confidently penned; Reason can justify the greatest wrong, The basest lie can hire a Learned Tongue. What Cause so vile, that cannot Wit Suborn, Men will not without Reason be forsworn. Reason can make Rogues of the best of Men, And make a Church of Saints a Serpent's Den; Can make usurping Lucifer a Saint, And Holy Martyrs, like to Devils paint. Even Reverend Wit, can by transforming Skill, Make Heretics, and Schismatics at will; It can prove white is black, and black is white, That night is day, and grossest darkness Light. Say what you will, Reason can prove it true, What is't that drunken Reason cannot do? How rare is that blessed place, that Age or Season, Which may not own this Character of Reason. And must we therefore brutishness prefer, Because well used Reason is so rare. But when the Drunken frenzy fit is gone, And Devils their deceiving work have done; When Death, the dreaming Sinner doth awake, O what a dreadful change doth God then make? Then wise Men only are the pure and just, Who Christ, who God obey, and in him trust. III. Madness. LOrd is not Man, though lodged in Flesh and Blood, A noble Vital, intellectual Spirit? Thou maid'st him in thine Image, wise and good, Earth's Paradise, heavens Suburbs to inherit. How comes a Reasonable human Soul, Transformed by such a Monstrous ugly change? Into a Brutish, Raging, Wicked Fool, To God, himself and wisdom, blind and strange. Thou gav'st him sight, who hath put out his Eyes, Thou gav'st him knowledge, who hath made him mad? Even Satan, promising to make him wise, Thou mad'st him holy, Sin hath made him bad. Did not endeavours, blessed by thy Grace, Restore some Holy Wisdom in thine own; The Souls which Sin and Satan did deface, Would not from Bruits & Devils well be known. It's strange in Man, how these two twisted be, To be a Bruit, and a Malignant Devil? Folly and wickedness too well agree, A fool to goodness, is wise to do evil. Children do quickly learn to serve the Flesh, Their Pride, their Appetite, and their Self-will, Eager for every thing that these can wish, But little knowing what is good or ill. Their Sense and Fancy do so strongly Rage, That Teachers speak in vain, Flesh will not hear, Bruitishness gets advantage by their Age, Till Grace comes in, and opens heart and ear. Depraved Nature, made by custom worse, Makes Reason now a fettered slave to Sense; Increased Sin becomes a double Curse, Fights against God, and is its own Defence. As Flesh grows up, so Sense and Fancy grow. Lust and vain Pleasure now do Tyrannise; What crosseth these they hate, & would not know, And raging Flesh abhoreth to be wise. Yet wise in wickedness, they needs will seem, They can confute their Teachers with a breath; All that reproves them they as error deem, And become Advocates for Sin and Death. And now the same who Infant-Christians were, And did renounce the Flesh, the World, & Devil; Flesh, World, and Devils, serious Servants are, And Christ blaspheme as Patron of their Evil. Now God and Conscience, seem their greatest foes, God as above them doth control their lust: He that pleads Conscience, for an Enemy goes, And all that's done against him goes for just. God's called to Sinners Bar, and there condemned, As heading Rebels that do him obey: Before those fools, his Laws are all contemned, Christ must be taught to think and say as they. And being once engaged in Satan's war, His daring Soldiers, they are quickly made; But little wit and labour needful are, To learn the Lying, Hating, Hurting Trade. Now valiant Bedlam, drunken, devilish wit, Conquers resistance, Triumphs over all: Fights against all that help not, or submit, To bring Church, Kingdoms, Souls, to Satan's thrall. O what a busy Trade mad worldlings drive, They talk, they ride, they run, contend & fight; With craft they plot, with fraud and force they strive, For fleshly Lust, and poisonous Delight. As the fleet Swallows glides to catch a Fly, And toilsome Ants, do gather Sticks and Straw: At dearer rates Men purchase Vanity, For Satan, Lust, and Madness, make their Law. May they but a sick Mortal Lust fulfil, Get Money, Houses, Land, and large Revenues, Look big, and make all stoop to their proud will; Feast, drink, and play, and keep a great Retinue. This is the dreaming happiness of Fools, Life spent for this, and Heaven for this is lost: And this is all for which they sell their Souls, A fools cap purchased at the dearest cost. All this is done in the known way to Death, They have not the least hope, but die they must: They are not sure to fetch another breath, They know their pampered Flesh will soon be dust. Their pomp & wealth for which they God forsake, Yea, though their Streets with Slver they could pave; All the vexations, strife, & stir they make, They know is but in passing to the Grave. Were they but following another's Course, Such going towards a Grave would be a shame; But when it's towards their own, it is far worse, A Madness which doth want a proper name. Sheep know not when Death's near, yet live in peace Birds feed & sing in peace, together got, Man always knows his Life will shortly cease, Yet madly lives as if he knew it not. But when Death comes they are surprised with fear, As if till than they knew not they must die; Departing wealth and life, their hearts then tear, O how the Case is changed when death seems nigh. How sad doth Dives look? how deep he groans, His Mammon God, now will not hear his cries; Money and Friends now answer not his moans, For all his wealth, he trembles, faints and dies. The greatest Lord and Prince must now submit, Crowns, Titles, Money will not ease his pain; Forced repentance seems to have some wit, Preachers may speak now without proud disdain. He calls for Mercy, he forgiveth all, Instead of Fire and Sword, he speaks for Peace, His wit revives as Flesh and Strength do fall, Not from a Holy change, but for his ease. Now he talks how he'd live, when life's ne'er gone, He seemeth wise, and promiseth to mend; He thinks what Time is for, when time is done, Begins to think of living at his end. Might he be saved now for a frighted wish, When guilt and terror cause his heart to faint, When worldly pleasures all forsake his flesh, He'd have the end and portion of a Saint. Now take an Inventory of his Wealth, This Corpse was once the Body of a Man: It lived in Pleasure, Honour, Ease and Health, Goes Naked hence, as Naked Life began. That frightful Earthly Face was wont to smile, And with proud Scorn on hated Persons frown, It Comely seemed, which now is Black and Vile, That its the same, can hardly now be known. Those closed Eyes, the Casements were of Lust, There entered Worldly Vanity and Sin, That Mouth, those Lips that now must Rot to Dust, Have taken many a pleasant Morsel in. That Throat, his Fellow-Creatures did Devour, Made Sumptuous Feasts his Body to maintain, With pleasant Liquors, many a merry Hour, He did exhilerate both Heart and Brain. Those Ears have heard, Jests, Plays and Melody, men's flattering Praise, and many a merry Song, The welcome news of their Calamity, Whom Wrath and Malice did delight to Wrong. That Mouth hath uttered many a merry Jest, Vain Worldly talk, Strife, News & feigned Story, Oaths, Lies and wanton Speeches, were its Feast, Threats, and proud Boasts, & Scorning were its Glory. That Nose delighted was with pleasant smell. That Black & Sallow Skin was smooth & white; On Eyes and Countenance did Grandeur dwell, The Just did fly; the Poor crouched at his sight. Those Limbs could move; those Hands had nimble Joints, The Corpse which now lies Dead, did Ride & Run, All did perform what Lust and Pride appoints, Many successful Actions he hath done. Many deep Plodding Thoughts that Brain hath hatched, How to grow Rich, & Great, & have his Will, For Means and Seasons, he hath wisely watched, All his Desires and Pleasure to fulfil. And now what's left? To keep him from men's sight, A shroud and Coffin's all that he must have, And these unknown, afford him no delight, But serve their turn, who bring him to a Grave. But where's his Money, Honours, Lands & Treasures? Left to his Heirs, lest they should wiser be, That the strong Snare of fleshly worldly pleasures, May tempt them all to Live and Die as he. But where is Dives Soul? Christ saith, In Hell: But his Five Brethren will not this believe: Christ will not lie: And who can better tell: But Satan thus Successors doth deceive. What hath he taken hence of all his Gains? God's Wrath: The Gild & Conscience of his Sin: But not one drop to ease Tormenting Pains: Will all his Honours, Lands and Riches win. A Preacher tells his Brethren what Christ saith: He's charged of Slandering so great a Man: A Goal, and Scorn, is the success he hath: Convince proud, wilful, Sinners, no one can. And is not this a doleful Bedlam-Case, When all a Rich Man's pleasure with him Dies? His Brethren madly follow the same Chase, At the same time, while he in Torment lies. He's paying for his long Contempt of Grace; They build his Tomb, and celebrate his Fame; He'd have them warned, & not come to that place; They praise his Doings, and keep up his Name. Could one at once but see them & their Brother; Him in his Torment; them in their Delight; How unlike are their Thoughts to one another; One Groans for that, for which the others fight. Faith sees all this: But Flesh and Sense is blind: These Bruits believe no more than what they see: One from the Dead sent could not change their mind; But it by sense too late, will changed be. God gives Men Life: They'll not consider why: Time's short: Fools know not what they have to do, Nor think why they were Born, till they must Die, Nor whither their departing Souls must go. They Live, as if they thought that Heaven & Hell Were the only places of Consideration, And to be Drunk, or Mad, were to be well: And fool away this Life of Preparation. IV. Hypocrisy. BUt none are worse than Learned Reverend Fools, Who vend their folly under wisdom's name, And are abaddon's keenest hurtful Tools, By Usurped Grandeur, and Religious Fame. Who Teach Untruths, or Live not as they Teach, Pretend to watch for other men's Salvation, And hate the Holy Life, for which they Preach, And as a Trade, Preach their own Condemnation. Who against Christ do fight with Sacred Arms; His Name, & Words, Church-order, forged Commissions, And Reverend Titles, are made potent Charms, To win the Ignorant to their Conditions. They praise God's word, but make it first their own, The words are Gods, the Church must make the sense, It's no Law, till their Sentence make it known, Not their mere Teaching by Truth's Evidence. Religion they corrupt by forged Traditions, They think Gods Laws too big, & yet make more, All's not enough without their vain Additions, Religion was an Infant-thing before. And under Christ, the Churches only Head, Th' have found one King, or one Church-Parliament. Whose Sovereign Rule the Christian World must dread, And all that will be Saved, must Consent. This Sovereign's Kingdom is the whole round Earth, The Lands where they can never have Access; From it their Canon-Law received its Birth, To which they all obedience profess. But the false name of Councils-General, Is now a Cheat to serve the Roman-King, Where are those Councils? whence: who must them call? Who them from all the Earth together bring. Could not our Lord without all this ado, Have made sufficient Universal Law, But our Religion must have so much new, Which th' ancient Christians never heard, or saw. Communion's made Subjection by this Cheat, None can be Saved that are not Canon-proof; Obey them, or they'll say you Separate, They Build the Church, beginning at the Roof. Thus can the Flesh such Learned Men deceive, And make them love their Enemies as Friends, And rule their Faith, and make them all believe, That all is good, which serves their Worldly Ends? How Wise and Holy should that Person be, Whose Daily Business is to search God's Law; Who should in Heavenly Pleasure Live, but he, That Heaven and Hell, as in a Map, still saw. Doth Pride and Envy, bitter Strife and Wrath, Church Tyranny, or Hatred of the Good, Become that Man, who such an Office hath, To Preach God's Love, Sealed with Christ's Flesh & Blood. What is his Calling, but Souls to Convert, And Build them up in Faith and Love with Peace, In what Art should he rather be expert, Then to breed Love, and Hurtfulness suppress. If he love Christ, he'll gently feed his Sheep. Cherish and Love the good, strengthen the weak, The Flock from Wolves & hurtful Beasts he'll keep, And not against the Just and Upright speak. Self-contradicting is a Madmans' mark, Judge then what these Malignant Preachers are, Self-damning, Self-confuting, in the dark, Heart, Tongue & Hand, are in a constant War. They are Church-Shepherds, & yet hurtful Wolves, They Preach for Love to Foes, yet hate Christ's Friends; Preach Life to others, choose Death to themselves; Heavenly words they speak, for Worldly Ends. They Pray, that God's great Name may Hallowed be, Which they profane, by pleading it for Evil; They Pray, as if Christ's Kingdom they would see, But mean their own, that's ruled by the Devil. They hate Gods Will, & Pray it may be done, Even as it is in Heaven: A high degree! Yet if one plead Gods Will against their own; Who's hated more, or used worse than he. They Pray for Daily Bread; for Life & Health: But without Plenty are not satisfied: But seek Preferment, Fullness, Rule & Wealth; And grudge if Fleshly Lust be but denied. The ask pardon of the Sin they Love & Cherish: And that but as themselves forgive another, Yet to fear God, Sin, Hell, as loath to perish, They'll not forgive to a dissenting Brother. They pray God not to lead them to Temptation, Yet tempt themselves, & love most tempting things Strong baits of Flesh are their chief consolation, Greedy of all that deadly pleasure brings. They ask deliverance from all that's ill, Yet Sin the worst, they love and will not leave. They ask, what's full against their Vicious Will, That which God offers, and they'll not receive. They seem to own a God: They Preach his Law, But Man and Flesh must be before him served. The World's more loved, of Man theyare more in awe; As if God but the Tongue & Knee deserved. The Image is their God, and hath the Heart. God's made an Image, and hath but the name. Religion is with them mere Form and Art, Kept up for Peace, by Custom, Fear & Shame. Christ is their Saviour called; their King & Lord, To Preach his Grace and Glory is their Trade. But to be Saved from Lust & Sin, 's Abhorred, And he an Underling to Flesh is made. They say they do believe the Holy Ghost; But his refining work will not be born, A Fleshly Worldly Life doth please them most, The Spirits Name & Work some make a Scorn. And yet for Holiness, who hath more Zeal? Meaning great Names, & Interest of their own: They against Sacrilege to God appeal; As it would Rob their Flesh, and it Dethrone. It's none to hurt Christ's Flock, withhold their Food, His Faithful Ministers to Alienate, Nor feed proud Flesh with what belongs to God, All's Holy that to it is Dedicate. Religion ends with them as it begun, They were Baptised, and made the Sacred Vow: But this was by a strange Godfather done, It's with great Grief that I must tell you how. It's known an Infant hath no Will to choose. The Parents Will and Choice do stand for his. Till he be capable his own to use, He in the Power of his Parents is. And God obligeth Christians to devote Themselves and Theirs, in Covenant, to Christ, This he accepts, as many Scriptures note, The Parent being Dedicated first. But now some other doth the Parent's part, Vows for the Child, and its due Education; And (though he never meant it in his heart) To see it Taught all needful to Salvation. Atheists, and Infidels, and Sadduces, Their Children are all freely taken in, If they have but such Godfathers as these, Baptism is said to save them all from Sin. Men forbid Parents Godfathers to be, And Ministers their presence to require. Foreign Kings stand for those they never see. Poor Men get such as they for Money hire. Parents these Undertakers do not ask, Will you these Vows and Promises perform? Baptismal Vows are made a formal task; Thus they began: Thus Men Christ's Laws reform. Thus Christians by false Ceremony made, Religion's made a Ceremony now, Not minding what Suborned Men Vowed or said, They boldly break what others falsely Vowed. And when in Play & Sin their Childhood's spent, For Canting a few words, not understood, Mindless what Faith is, or their Baptism meant, Confirmed, they boldly claim Christ's Flesh and Blood. A Lifeless Image being thus received, More Forms and Ceremonies it adorn, And Hypocrites by Shadows thus deceived, The unknown Holy Life do Hate and Scorn. Thus Life is fooled away, till Death seem near, Which doth disrobe their splendid cheating Sins, But to ease Conscience wakened now by fear, Forced Penitence Man's Absolution wins. And at the Grave, when Men as bad as he, Do hear that God in Mercy took his Soul; And Charity for this hope pleaded be, False hopes which should be broken, are kept whole. Thus Sinners are befoold till time is done, From first to last spent in Hypocrisy; And endless sorrow when all hope is gone, Tell them what Mercy they did long deny. Yet still the reverend Masters of the Game, Cherish the Malady with Zeal and Art; Being themselves diseased by the same, By mortal habit both of Head and Heart. Tradition, Ceremony, Pomp and Rule, A humane Image without Divine Life; By Pharisees was used as the tool, Of self-deceit, and of malignant strife. Dead Saints they honoured, and the living killed, The Dead molest them not by their reproof; Their Relics, Days, and Monuments they held, In their Devotion as of great behoof. Yet none were fiercer Enemies of Christ, Nor did his Truth and Servants more oppose; None with more Zeal for Holy Blood did thirst, None did more mischief to the Church than those. Wolves in Sheep's clothing, by their Fruits are known, By hurtful fangs, devouring bloody jaws, As Thorns and Briars, prick Men to the Bone, So these by hurtful Hands and cruel Laws. They're humble Ministers, but Rule as Lords, Servants of all, yet Vice-Kings under Christ: On pain of Hell, all must obey their words, If you will serve God, you must serve them first. heavens Keys are theirs, their right we must not doubt, To curse and cast out those whom Christ takes in, These they by words, themselves indeed shut out, By mortal fleshly, and malignant Sin. Christ's House a place of Merchandise is made, Children cast out, his Table spread for Dogs; To make sound Christians odious is their Trade, To curse God's Saints, & cast their Pearls to Hogs. The Holy Catholic Church, is in their Creed, Which is, all true Believers upon Earth; Of whom Christ only is the King and Head, To him they joined are in the New Birth. But these Men mean one corrupt Sect alone, About the Fourth Part of the whole are they; Cut off, and separate from the rest as none, Their Pope and Councils that do not obey. The Saint's Communion they in words profess Themselves, and Dead men's Images they mean; None pass for Saints who do not wear their dress, The best, if not their Subjects are unclean. Call them but Heretics, and they may kill, A Thousand Saints, and by it Heaven may win; Such is the Power of a Papal will, To make a Virtue of the greatest Sin. On Catholic Communion, they lay, Not only all men's Duty, but Salvation; For Schism rends Men from the Church, say they, And so from Christ, & therefore brings damnation. Yet that's Man's Duty which they Schism call, To own no human universal King; No Legislative Power over all, In Councils, Pope, or any human thing. None's capable to Rule all, but the Lord, Give Church or State, Law, Judgement or Defence; Man's Universal Soveraignty's abhorred, By Nature, Reason, and Experience. Among the Mad, those Prince's Monsters are, Who subjects be to this Church-soveraigns' claim; And yet with Scorn, and just disdain would hear, A Universal Civil Sovereign's Name. When certainly it is a harder thing, To Rule all Earth, by the Church-power & word: Than for the wisest Parliament or King, To Rule the whole world by the Civil Sword. Thus they impossible Communion make, And yet Damn all that do not it observe: None can tell whom for Sovereign we must take, Nor which the Laws are, from which none must swerve. Must Pope or Council, this Great Sovereign be, Is't Monarchy, or Aristocracy; Or is it mixed, and must they both agree, Or is it the diffused Democracie? Whom must we take for Pope? Who must him choose, Which is the Pope, when there are two or three? Must they that give the Power which they use, Superiors, Equals, or Inferiors be? When one at Rome, one at Avignion was, And each a Council had which took his part; Which for the true Communion than must pass, Which was the Church from which none must depart? Must all th' Abassians, and Armenians know, (And in Cosmography so Skilful be,) Wither there's such a place as Rome or no, Whither there be a Pope, and which is he? Is't the whole Church on Earth that he must rule, Why then hath not the whole a choosing Vote? Is all the world save Rome, but the Pope's Mule, And that his Crown's Elective all do Note? It's like, that all the Church consents, they'll say, Then he's no Pope whom three 4th parts disclaim, How shall three parts then know whom to obey? Will any serve that will usurp the Name? When Popes damn Popes, & Councils damn them all, And Popes damn Councils, what must Christians do? When they each others Laws damn & recall, How shall we know whose Power then was true? The French say Councils have this Sovereignty, The first Three Hundred Years it was not so; The Sovereign Power, the Church doth Unifie, Was it then none, or how could Men it know? An Universal Council never was, 'Twas but one Empire that did make that name; Now that's dissolved, how should it come to pass? That any Prince on Earth should do the same. Hath any one the common Rule of all, Or will Turks, Papists, and all Kings agree? Such a true Council, when and where to call, Or can one third part Universal be? The Church of Councils Power is not agreed, Therefore this doth not it now Unifie: Those that stand for their Sovereignty indeed, Which were those Councils differ shamefully? Some are for four, some six, some eight, some all, Some such as by the Pope approved were; Divers each other Heretics did call, And which we must obey cannot appear. And is Church Unity no better known, And yet is necessary to Salvation: And to all those that Christ himself will own? What fallows hence, but general Damnation? An Universal Council none shall see, Till the world have an Universal King, This the Triple-crowned Pope pretends to be, Though not the name, he challengeth the thing. The poor Fifth Monarchy Seekers, they pity, As seeking that which long hath extant been: No Monarch ever matched the Holy City, By his Church Keys, thus rules the Man of Sin. And if we knew which Powers to obey, Which be the Canons, which so needful are? If some, who knows them, if all, then are they More necessary than God's Scriptures far. Christ hath the Terms of Church-Communion made, These wiser Men, who make so many more; Will shortly find their Legislative trade, Among their greatest Sins set on their Score. Baptism Christ made, what was thereto required? The Church still knew, & by God's mercy knows, The words then used, the requisites desired, Scripture and sure Tradition fully shows. The Church by Baptism was specified, Christ did command all such to love each other, Holy Communion was to none denied, All were to take a Christian as a Brother. Till by some Heresy or great offence, He brought his Covenant-keeping under doubt▪ And having added proved impenitence, Was not so much cast as declared out. None were Baptised into Peter's Name, Much less to General Council, or the Pope; They had one God, one Christ, their Creed the same, One Spirit, Body, and one future hope. But as the Serpent tempting Eve at first, By Pride and promised knowledge did Man kill; So from the pure simplicity of Christ, By promised Wisdom, he befools Man Still. To know this Subject better, read a Book, Called the remains of Fulk, Grevile, Lord Brook. V. Man. VAin Man! Why is thy Being no more known, Why seeking knowledge readst thou not thyself? How many books in vain dost thou take down? Thy own Book standeth on the nearest Shelf. Should vital knowing Spirits clothed in Flesh, Mistake so Course, a Garment for the Man? And live as if they did not hope or wish, For any other Life than this short Span. If Clothing hide thee from thy Neighbour's sight, Let it not hide thee also from thine own; Look on thyself, thy Nature is a Light, Shall knowing Souls be to themselves unknown. Now know thyself before thou art undressed, And though through flesh Men cannot see thy heart; Open thy Eyes, unveil thy Face at least, That Men may see thou hast a better part. How vile a thing is Man, if Flesh be he? Can he look high who thinks himself so base? His brutish sleepy Thoughts and Life must be, A dreaming, doting, or despairing Case. Where was that Flesh one Year before thy birth? What is it now but warmed moving Clay? What will it be e'er long but common Earth? To this thy Pomp and Pleasure is the way. Where did God's Art that curious Body form? As in a Dunghill, even in Nature's sink, Though Skin and Clothing now do it Adorn; 'Twas bred between the Dung and Urins stink. What was it made of, but the Mother's Food? Curdled and quickened by the Maker's power, And there it lay in darkness, filth, and blood; Unmeet for sight till Births appointed hour. In pain and danger than it is brought forth, A speechless, helpless, and polluted thing; Entering the World with crying at its Birth, Foretelling greater griefs which time will bring. How long by patient Mother's care and love, Doth feeble, useless, troubling Age subsist; Should Man continue such, we could not prove, That he in kind is better than a Beast. Long do these unripe fleshly Bodies keep, The Soul from showing its essential Power; Sense Rules, while Reason lieth half asleep, Vain toys and folly, spend our Childish hours. By use and prepossession flesh gets strength, Resisting Light, and all that's Wise and Holy; Till Reason be its servile slave at length, And greatest Wit become the greatest Folly. Then Carnal Man lives like a crafty Beast, Only to pamper Flesh and please its Lust; To make the Worms and Hell a costly Feast, When Souls must part and leave Flesh to the Dust. If Flesh be Man, how many Men are one, From Birth to Death, when as the Rivers flow? Daily new Flesh succeeds that which is gone, And none is what he was one Year ago. That beauteous Face, that pampered Body stood, But lately on thy Table as thy Meat; 'Twas Mutton, Beef, Pork, Chicken, or such Food; What now thou art, is what thou then didst eat. Part of a Fish, a Swine, a Calf or Lamb, Is turned into a Lady, Lord or King; This Metamorphosis of Beast to Man, Is surely done by some great unseen thing. Yea all of Man that's seen did lately grow, In Fields, and that was Corn, or Fruit, or Grass; Which now is Flesh, or from the Springs did flow, To show what Flesh will be, by what it was. Vain Man! know'st thou no deeper than thy Skin? Go see an opened Corpse, and that will show, What Garbage Filth and Dung are hid Within, What thy vile Body is, thou there mayst know. Think that thy noisome stinking Excrement, Is one part of that Sumptuous Pleasant Food; Whose other part a while of better scent, Is turned into that proud Flesh and Blood. If yet deceitful Beauty cheat thy Eyes, Look on a Face that's crusted with the Pocks; Or a white Breast where stinking Cancers rise, And pity fools whom Fleshly Pleasure mocks. If Health, Wealth, Pomp, or Power, delude thy mind, Go to the greatest dying sick Man's Bed, Ask him what safety he in these doth find? Yea, go yet further, look upon the Dead. Here much unlike to what it was before, Is that now loathsome Flesh, that ghastly Face; What hath it now of all its Power and Store, Remember this must shortly be thy Case: How long the sight and scent can you abide, Of your Dead, greatest, wisest, dearest Friend? Unless some Art the frightful Visage hide, And from the smell your tender Sense defend. We can devise no better a dispose, Of dearest Friends, than a deep darksome Grave; Where to lie rotting we may them repose, The living from their sight and scent to save. The worms without repulse there feasted be, They feed on Heart and Face without offence; What pampered Bodies are, there you may see, If you dig up that Corpse a few Months hence. But though what's out of sight, grows out of mind, Pictures and guilded Tombs, are also set, The senseless Hearts of Men further to blind; That what Flesh is they may the more forget. Yet the next opened Grave casts up in sight The Skull, whose holes of Eyes & Mouth you see, Where entered formerly the dear delight, Think then, thus shortly it will be with me. The harmless pretty Bird with Pleasure sings, Not so deformed in Life or Death as we; The cruel Bowels of great Lords and Kings, To her an honourable Tomb may be. Save that to be devoured by bad Men, Turns guiltless things into a guilty wight; And makes them sinful, and more fetide than, If they had rotten in the open light. The labouring Ant less burdensome Flesh hath, Thousands in peace in one stored heap can dwell; In peace by crowds they travel the same path, And being dead annoy none by their smell. The working Bees in peace together live, Fetching their Honey home from many Flowers; Dwelling in quiet order in one Hive, But Man destroys them and their store devours. God who by Nature gives them flying Wings, And their rare mellifying power gave; Doth give them also their defensive Stings, Their House, and Young, and Property to save, Men kill them, and eat up their gathered Food, But make the like no King, no Artist can; Their Work, yea their dead Corpse, are sweet & good But sweetest things corrupt and stink in Man. How swiftly do th● unwearied Swallows flee, And mount, and sport, even to an unseen height; Their active fiery part is quick and free, Not clogged as Men are by a fleshly weight. The mounted Lark hover with nimble wings, Dwells above Earth till strength and spirits sail; And peering towards the Sun, she sweetly sings, But falls down mute when earthly parts prevail. Some say, all motion tends to ceasing rest, Of Earth's forced lifeless motion this is true; To Spirits perfect Action is the best, Uncessant Love and Pleasure is their due. Experience sadly tells Man, that his Soul Is clogged by Flesh, perverted by its bent, So that dark heathens did its case condole, As for old Sins into this Body sent. Did not God's Holy Spirit quicken ours, And cause us unseen things by Faith to see; Renew and raise our dead corrupted powers, None could from Flesh, Lust, Sin, Hell, saved be. Flesh is not Sin, it's made for Holy use, In it Souls here must seek and serve the Lord; But it's the tempting object of abuse, While we its Life and Lust too much regard. The Body as a Servant we must love, But Souls have Sense, and Sense to Flesh is tied; And so drawn down from God and things above, The Soul that hath not Faith is bruitifyed. The Interest of Flesh perverts the will, It conquers Reason, and corrupts the Mind, No other Enemy doth so much ill, To self-destroying, perishing Mankind. ANd now oh Man, is Flesh all that thou art? Worthy of all thy stir, and cost, and care, Live not as if thou hadst no better part, men's Souls like God, and Kin to Angels are. Even Bruits have Souls possessed of Life and Sense, Made to serve Man, who's made his God to praise; Whither Distinct or One, when taken hence, Subject to us, whom God will higher raise. What's Flesh but Water mixed with senseless Earth? Viler than dirt, when Souls a while are gone, It's unseen Spirit which causeth Life and Birth, This moveth all that's moved, doth all that's done. Man's Soul is made the Image of his God, Substantial Virtue of Life, Light, and Love. And though in Flesh it now have its abode, Its tendency is to the world above. It came from God, and unto God returns, Though in this Flesh its Life of Trial be; It daily wastes the Oil, as Fire that burns, Consumes its Fuel, and then is set free. As flames mount upward, Souls towered Heaven ascend, And are still restless till they be at home; If Sin depress them not, towered God they tend, Blessed and joyful, when to him they come. As things Inanimate, are ruled by force, By Sense and Objects, Bruits determined be; Both these are carried on in Nature's course, Man's will more undetermined is, and free. Bruits are not Ruled by a Moral Law. Nor moved by the hopes of Life to come; Nor of God's Threats and Justice stand in awe, Nor after Death fear any other Doom. Man's made in his degree to know the Lord, To know his Duty, and to please Gods will; To learn and love, trust and obey his word, In hope of Heaven, his course here to fulfil. God is Man's supreme King, his Guide, his End, His Soul and Life should have no other scope; From Sin and Devils, God will his defend, In Life and Death, God is our only hope. You see not whither Souls departing go, But Heaven and Hell are visible to Faith; God hath revealed enough to make us know, That all shall be performed which he saith. We no more need to fear his word should fail, Or God forsake the Souls that do him please, Or any final Hurt, Christ's Flock assail, Than Earth to bear, or Sun to shine should cease. Is not a Sober, Righteous, Holy Life, In certain hope of everlasting Joys, Better than Sin, Despair, Care, Fear and Strife, For short deceitful pleasant Dreams and Toys. IF yet blind Man, thou thinkst thou art a Beast, And hast no higher Hopes & Work to mind, Become a Tame, and gentle One, at least, Not of the wild, fierce, hurtful, bloody Kind. Serpents, & Toads, & Wolves, are harmless things, Yea Lions, Tigers, and such Beasts of Prey, Compaird with many Conquerors and Kings, Who do Ten Thousand fold more hurt than they. If this short Fleshly pleasure be thy best, What need of Wars & Blood, Rage & debate; Sweet Love, and quiet Peace, afford more rest, Than Power & Wealth, with hurtful Plots & Hate. What need of large Dominions, to prepare For Dying Pangs, a Coffin, and a Grave. Quiet, Content, and Kindness, fitter are, Thy Neighbour's welfare, & thy own to save. But of all Beasts, the Man-Beast is the worst, To others, and himself, the cruelest Foe, And turning Serpent, doth become Accursed, A Scourge to others, his own endless Woe. As Holiness fits Souls for endless Bliss, And here hath its beginning and foretaste; So Sin the Plague of Unmanned Nature is, And turns Man-Beast to Devil at the last. If all Men made themselves, & are their own, And have no Ruler but Self-will and Sense; If Man be nothing else but Flesh and Bone, Can live here still, and say, I'll not go hence; If Man can Conquer God, and him Dethrone, Kill Christ again, and shut up Paradise; Then Saints are Fools, and Worldly Men alone, Choosing a Shadow and Despair, are wise. But sure if Man be only Mortal Flesh, A Squib, a Bubble, a vile Earthy Clod, He never will have Power, what e'er he wish, To save himself, by overcoming God. But Heaven is quite above Malignant Powers, Our Peace & Safety's far above their reach. Christ's Kingdom is not of this World, nor ours, It's unseen Blessedness which he did Preach. There Holy Spirits free from Sin and Fear, From Cruel Tyrants, Devils, Death and Hell, The sweet Celestial Melody still hear, In perfect Light and Love together dwell. There's no dark Error, no perplexing doubt, No Selfish Envy, Strife or Discontent; All hurtful troubling things are there shut out, No Wrathful Sting, no Malice, no Dissent. Numberless Numbers there, are all but One, Of the same Body, each a Member is, Each hath his due degree and place, but none A Selfish separated part of Bliss. All have one God, one Head, one Vital Spirit; All Love God with one Love; and all Rejoice With one Joy: All one Kingdom do Inherit, All sweetly sing God's Praise, as with one Voice. True Unity with Difference well Accords, And makes up Beauty & Consort; though there Self, Numbers, Many, and such parting words, Have not the same dividing sense as here. Thus hath one Soul more than one Faculty, One Sun; each sort of Life, Three formal Powers; Some Image of the Divine Trinity; But none on Earth so excellent as ours. And as in Being, so in more respects, Unity doth with Number well agree, Many Concauses have the same effects, Yea all God's Creatures One and Many be. So divers Fruits are but parts of one Tree; And every Tree is Rooted in one Ground: All Grounds of this One Earth but parcels be, This Earth a small part of the World is found. Souls are unseen, and so their Union is, Many united Individuals, Their distinct persons make some think amiss, That they are incoherent Integrals. God only hath a perfect Unity, Of the same World, some Blessed, some Cursed be, Some Union stands with great Diversity, Apples and Crabs may grow on the same Tree. Blessed Union is of Goodthings near of Kin, To things Discordant Union causeth pain; An aching Tooth is better out than in, To lose a Rotting Member is a Gain. The nearest Fuel is Consumed by Fire. God's Wrath is near the Wicked, to destroy. To Holy Souls, who Gods Love most desire, He is their full and everlasting Joy. Ten Thousand Stars and Candles give one Light, Concordant Sounds make one sweet Melody. Two Ears, One hearing Cause, Two Eyes, One Sight; But Light & Darkness have no Unity. Here Wicked Men are every where in Wars: Men against Men, as Tigers fiercely Rave: Our Minds, & Wills, & Passions, have their Jars; Our Souls and Bodies Mortal Discords have. Though Life be short, & Death is at the Door, Impatient Foes think posting Time too slow, They grudge to let us live a few Days more, Revenge and Malice long to give the Blow. But Heaven hath no such work: there's no such Men: Nothing is there, the Blessed to Annoy, With Christ & Angels Holy Soul shall then, Praise God in perfect Life, Light, Love & Joy! Amen, Decemb. 17. 1682. VI The Exit. MY Soul go boldly forth, Forsake this Sinful Earth, What hath it been to thee But Pain and Sorrow, And thinkst thou it will be Better to Morrow? Love not this Darksome Womb, Nor yet a Gilded Tomb, Though on it Written be Mortal men's Story, Look up by Faith, and see Sure Joyful Glory. Why art thou for Delay, Thou cam'st not here to stay? What tak'st thou for thy part, But Heavenly pleasure? Where then should be thy Heart, But where's thy Treasure? Thy God, thy Head's above, There is the World of Love; Mansions there purchased are, By Christ's own Merit, For these he doth prepare Thee by his Spirit. Look up towards Heaven, and see How vast those Regions be, Where Blessed Spirits dwell, How Pure and Lightful, But Earth is near to Hell, How Dark and Frightful. Here Life doth strive with Death, To lengthen Mortals Breath; Till one short Race be run, Which would be ended, When it is but begun, If not defended. Here Life is but a Spark, Scarce shining in the Dark; Life is the Element there, Which Souls reside in: Much like as Air is here, Which we abide in. Hither thou cam'st from thence: The Divine Influence In Flesh my Soul did place, Among the Living: To be of Humane Race, Was his free giving. There I shall know God more: There is the Blessed Chore: No Wickedness comes there, All there is Holy: There is no Grief or Fear, No Sin or Folly. jerusalem above, Glorious in Light and Love, Is Mother of us all, Who shall enjoy them, The Wicked Hellward fall; Sin will destroy them. O Blessed Company, Where all in Harmony, Iehovah's Praises Sing, Still without ceasing: And all Obey their King, With perfect pleasing. God there is the Saints Rest, God is their constant Feast; He doth them Feed and Bless, With Love and Favour, Of which they still possess, The pleasant Savour. God is Essential Love, And all the Saints above, Are like unto him made, Each in his Measure: Love is their Life and Trade, Their constant Pleasure. Love's Flame's in every Breast, The Greatest and the Least; Strangers to this sweet Life, There are not any. Love leaves no place for Strife; Makes One of Many. Each is to other dear, No Malice enters there; No Siding Difference; No Hurt, no Evil; Because no Ignorance, No Sin, no Devil. What Joy must there needs be, Where all God's Glory see; Feeling Gods Vital Love, Which still is Burning: And Flaming God-ward move, Full Love returning. SELF makes Contention here, Love makes all Common there, There's no Propriety, Mine is my Brothers. Perfect Community Makes One's Another's. Go out then lingering Soul; From this Vile Serpent's Hole; Where Bred as in a Sink, They Hiss and Sting us. Will not Christ, dost thou think, To better bring us. Think not that Heaven wants store, Think not that Hell hath more, If all on Earth were lost: Earth's scarce one Tittle, To the vast Heavens: at most, Exceeding little. All those Blessed Myriads be, Lovers of Christ and Thee; Angels thy presence wish, Christ will receive thee: Then let not Brutish Flesh, Fright and Deceive thee. Gladly my Soul go forth; Is Heaven of no more worth, Then this Cursed Desert is, This World of Trouble: Prefer Eternal Bliss, Before this Bubble. Wish not still for Delay: Why wouldst thou longer stay From Christ, from Home so far, In Self-denial: And live in longer War, A Life of Trial. Souls Live when Flesh lies Dead: Thy Sin is Pardoned: When Christ doth Death disarm, Why art thou fearful; And Souls that fear no harm, Should pass forth Cheerful. Cherish not causeless Doubt, That God will shut the out: What if he thee assured From Heaven by Letter: His Son, his Spirit, and Word. Have done it better. Hath Mercy made Life sweet: And is it kind and meet, Thus to draw back from God, Who doth Protect thee? Look then for his sharp Rod, Next to Correct thee? What if Foes should make haste, Thou wilt the sooner taste What all Blessed Souls enjoy, With Christ for ever? Where those that thee Annoy, Shall hurt thee never. Fear not the World of Light, Though out of Mortal's sight: As if it doubtful were, For want of seeing: Gross Bodies Vilest are, And the least Being. Vain sinful World farewel; I go where Angels dwell; Where Life, Light, Love and Joy, Are the Saint's Glory: Gods Praises there employ The Consistory. Christ who knows all his Sheep, Will all in safety keep. He will not lose his Blood, Nor Intercession: Nor we the Purchased Good Of his dear Passion. I know my God is Just, To him I wholly Trust; All that I have, and am, All that I hope for: All's sure and seen to him, Which I here grope for. Lord Jesus take my Spirit: I trust thy Love and Merit: Take home this wandering Sheep, For thou hast sought it: This Soul in safety keep, For thou hast bought it. Amen, Decemb. 19 1682. The Valediction. 1. VAin World, what is in thee? What do poor mortals see Which should esteemed be, Worthy their Pleasure? Is it the Mother's Womb, Or Sorrows which soon come, Or a dark Grave and Tomb Which is their Treasure? How dost thou Man deceive By thy vain Glory, Why do they still Believe Thy false History. 2. Is't children's Book and Rod, The Lab'rer's heavy Load, Poverty undertrod The World desireth? Is it distracting Cares, Or Heart-tormenting Fears, Or pineing Grief and Tears, Which Man requireth? Or is it it Youthful Rage, Or Childish Toying? Or is Decrepit Age Worth Man's Enjoying? 3. Is it deceitful Wealth, Got by Care, Fraud, or Stealth, Or short uncertain Health, Which thus befool Men? Or do the Serpent's Lies, By the World's Flatteries, And tempting Vanities, Still overrule them? Or do they in a Dream, Sleep out their Season? Or born down by Lust's Stream, Which Conquers Reason. 4. The silly Lambs to day, Pleasantly Skip and Play, Whom Butchers mean to Slay, Perhaps to Morrow: In a more Brutish sort, Do careless Sinners Sport, Or in dead Sleep still Snort, As near to Sorrow. Till Life, not well begun, be sadly Ended, And the Web they have Spun, Can ne'er be Mended. 5. What is the time that's gone, And what is that to come? Is it not now as none, The present stays not. Time posteth, Oh how fast Unwelcome Death makes haste, None can call back what's past, Judgement delays not: Though God bring in the Light, Sinners awake not, Because Hells out of Sight, They Sin forsake not. 6. Man walks in a vain show, They know, yet will not know; Sat still when they should go, But run for shadows: While they might taste and know The living Streams that flow, And crop the Flowers that grow In Christ's sweet Meadows. Life's better slept away, Than as they use it. In Sin and Drunken Play, Vain Men abuse it. 7. Malignant World adieu, Where no foul Vice is new, Only to Satan true, God still offended: Though taught and warned by God, And his Chastising Rod, Keeps still the way that's broad, Never amended. Baptismal Vows some make, But ne'er perform them; If Angels from Heaven spoke, 'Twould not reform them. 8. They dig for Hell beneath, They Labour hard for Death, Run themselves out of Breath To overtake it. Hell is not had for nought, Damnation's dearly bought, And with great Labour sought, They'll not forsake it. Their Souls are Satan's fee, He'll not abate it. Grace is refused that's free, Mad Sinners hate it. 9 Vile Man is so perverse, It's too rough work for Verse, His badness to Rehearse, And show his Folly. He'll die at any rates, He God and Conscience hates, Yet Sin he Consecrates, And calls it Holy: The Grace he'll not endure, Which would renew him: Constant to all, and sure, Which will undo him. 10. His Head comes first at Birth, And takes Root in the Earth, As Nature shooteth forth, His Feet grow highest: To kick at all above, And spurn at saving Love; His God is in his Grove, Because its nighest. He loves this World of strife, Hates what would mend it: Loves Death that's called Life, Fears what would end it. 11. All that is Good he'd cursh, Blindly on Sin doth rush, A Pricking thorny Bush, Such Christ was Crowned with. Their Worship's like to this, The Reed, the Judas Kiss, Such the Religion is, That these abound with. They mock Christ with the Knee When ere they bow it; As if God did not see The Heart, and know it. 12. Of Good they choose the least, Despise that which is best, The joyful Heavenly feast, Which Christ would give them: Heaven hath scarce one cold wish, They live unto the Flesh, Like Swine they feed on Wash, Satan doth drive them. Like weeds they grow in Mire, Which Vices nourish; Where warmed by Satan's Fire, All Sins do Flourish. 13. Is this the World Men choose, For which they Heaven refuse, And Christ and Grace abuse, And not receive it. Shall I not guilty be Of this in some Degree, If hence God would me free, And I'd not leave it. My Soul from Sodom fly, Lest wrath there find thee: Thy Refuge-rest is nigh, Look not behind thee. 14. There's none of this ado, None of the Hellish Crew, God's promise is most true, Boldly believe it. My Friends are gone before, And I am near the Shoor, My Soul stands at the Door, O Lord receive it. It trusts Christ and his Merits, The Dead he raises: Join it with Blessed Spirits, Who sing thy Praises. jan. 14. 1682/ 3. FINIS. The Titles. I. Grace. pag. 1 II. Wisdom. 19 III. Madness. 25 IU. Hypocrisy. 34 V. Man. 48 VI. The Exit. 62 VII. The Valediction. 70 Books lately Printed for B. Simmons at the Three Golden Cocks at the West-end of St. Paul's, 1683. MR. Rich. Baxter's Dying Thoughts, preparatory to his approaching Change. Octavo. Of the Immortality of Man's Soul, and the Nature of it, and other Spirits. Two Discourses. Octavo. By Mr. Baxter. Truth and Peace promoted: Or, a Guide for young Christians in the way of Salvation, past the danger of Errors and Difficulties of Curiosity. In a familiar Dialogue between a Minister of Christ, and a Devout private Christian. Twelve. By Adam Martindalt.