Heavenly Pastime, Or, Pleasant Observations on all the most remarkable Passages throughout the Holy Bible, Of the OLD and NEW TESTAMENT. Newly ALLEGORIZED, In several Delightful 

DIALOGUES,  
POEMS,  
SIMILITUDES, and  
DIVINE FANCIES.    
By JOHN DUNTON, Author of The Sick-man's Passing-Bell.  
LONDON, Printed for JOHN DUNTON, at the Black Raven, at the Corner of Princes-street, near the Royal Exchange, 1685.   

The Epistle to the READER.  
Candid Reader,  
THy courteous and ready reception of those three well known and delightful Treatises entitled The House of Weeping, etc. Dying Pastors last Legacy, etc. And Pilgrims Guide, with the Addition of the Sick-man's Passing-Bell, in a pleasant Allegory, etc. (All of them in a few Months coming to several impressions) hath encouraged me now a fourth time to present thee with another very useful Piece, bearing my Father Dunton's Name, Entitled HEAVENLY PASTIME, etc. Which is on purpose digested into Dialogues, Poems, Similitudes, and Divine Fancies; as being most easy and taking to the meanest capacity, and which to an ingenious fancy cannot but be welcome, here being the pith and marrow of many Voluminous Authors of that Bulk and bigness, that many People have not time to read them, more have not Money to buy them, and therefore by that means seeing the tediousness and chargeableness of attaining to knowledge break of their Journey at the beginning of their race, and despairing of attaining to the end, begin not to run at all.  
To help then those who are desirous to learn and mind true knowledge this Reverend Author hath taken the pains with the Bee, to extract Honey out of the Flowery Writings of several Authors, taking only that, which was most conducible to his purpose, and which he imagined might draw the Reader on with delight to his own profit.  
What his Endeavours have been herein, you will find in the peruseall thereof.  
All that I shall desire of thee (Gentle Reader) is to read seriously, judge candidly, and censure rightly, and I make no doubt but when thou hast done, thou wilt for the present thankfully accept of what is here offered, (till something more of this Authors can be transscribed fair for the Press, which will now be very speedily done) and remain a Cordial wellwisher to thy most obliged  
Friend and thrice Humble Servant, JOHN DUNTON.   

INTRODUCTION To this Book, by way of Question and Answer.  
Quest. WHat is the Chief end of Writing Books?  
Answ. For instruction and information; whereas i●le Books are no other than corrupted Tales in Ink and Paper; or indeed Vice sent abroad with a Licence, wherein two are guilty of evil, he that Writes them, and he that Reads th●m; being in effect like the brutish sin of Adultery, wherein two are concerned in the same sin; and therefore his Resolution was good who said, That for bad Books he would write none, lest he should thereby hurt others in the Reading of them; nor would he Read any of them, for fear the Author should answer for his sin, by being corrupted by them.  
Quest. What Book of all others is the best?  
Answ. The Holy Scriptures, contained in the Old and New Testament, wherein the Mysteries of our Saviour are contained▪ being the Book of all books, and in comparison of which no book is Comparable.  
Quest. Of how many Chapters doth this Bo●k consist?  
Answ. In the Old Testament or Bible, there are 777. In the New Testament 260. In the Books of Apocrypha 173. The total being 1210. And fo● thenumber of Verses in the Old Testament, the ●ewish Rabbins have computed them thus: In the Books of the Law, Verses 5845. In the Prophets, 9294. And in Haggai 8064. Total 23203.  
Quest. Are there no other Books mentioned in the Old Testament, but those which we have now at this day?  
Ans. Yes, there were the Books of Iddo and G●d the Seers; besides, Solomon wrote three thousand Parables, and five thousand Songs, with a Book of the Nature of all Herbs, Trees, and Plants, from the Cedar to the Hyssop upon the wall. Samuel also writ a Book of the Office and Institution of a King. There were also Chronicles of the Kings of judah and Israel, besides those we have in the Scripture, being, as is judged, written far larger; all which were supposed to be lost in the Jewish Captivity at Babylon.  
Q. What was St. Augustine 's answer to one who demanded what Go● did before he made the World?  
A. That he was ordaining a Hell for such kind of Enquirers. Wh●re the Scripture hath not a Mouth to speak, we ought not to have a Tongue to ask.  
Q. What was th● greatest Love that ever was shor●● in the World?  
A. The love of God to poor Sinners, who gave his only begotten Son to die for us; of which one thus writeth.  
God is my gif●, himself he freely gave me,  
God's gift am I, and none ●ut God shall have me.  
Q. Wh●t Bo●k next to the Holy Scripture would you chief desire, t●e rest being taken away?  
A. Th●o●ore Beza being a●ked this question, answered Plu●arch, an excellent Author for his Lives and Morals. Another said Seneca, whose divine sentences in his Book are so squared by the Rules of Christianity; that St. Hi●rom concluded him amongst the Catalogue of Divine Writers. Another preferred the Thesaurus Histori●rum, being a Compendium of most Histories and worthy Examples; and that Ornament of History, a worthy Person gives the preeminency to Sir Walter Raleighs History of the World, which he calls Primus in Historia.   

Heavenly Pastime, Or, Pleasant Observations throughout the Old TESTAMENT.  
CHAPTER I. Giving an Acco●nt of the Birth of the Universe.  Gen. 1. 
In the beginning God makes Heaven, and Earth,  
To Sea, to Light, to Stars he gives a Birth,  
Fishes, Fowls, Beasts, and Worms he doth Cre●●●,  
All which Gods power and might do intimate.  
THough God was what he is, and in th● perfect fruition of his Grandeurs, befor● his omnipotent hand had drawn th● Creatures out of their Nothing▪ yet ●i● Nature required Hommages, his Majesty Servitudes, his Glory Admirations, his Goodness Acknowledgements, and his Beauty Hearts and Affection's. It was needful, though he were independent of all beings, immense in his extent, Eternal in his duration, and infinite in all his perfections, that 〈◊〉 should cause himself to be seen and felt by E●an●●ons out of himself.  
And here I represent unto myself how that Nature sighed ●ven without Tongue or voice, 
The sighs of Nature.  before she had a being: Methinks I● hear her silence, and that she speaketh th●s to God before h●r Creaton;  
Sp●ak th●n, O sp●ak (Great God) stretch forth thy arm and c●st thy looks out ●f thyself; issue forth of thy Luminous Darkness, which forms thee a day without Night, an● a Night more resplendent than the day. Give so●e little passage to those Ejaculations and Flames which fro●●ll Eternity are enclosed within thy Bosom, a●d which frame therein a Circle ●f Light and Love. The least of thy ●rradiations will dissipate the shadows, and open that abys●, in which they are burie●. In fine thou art a Go● of Love, and this love would be Captive, if it had no● S●lli●s, and Ejaculations. It was not satisfied to r●main in thee by eminence, and as it were in the source of beauty and goodness; but having made its sol●s wi●●in its s●●f by numberless revolutions, it must descend up●● external objects, to attain that effect and property, which is natural to Love.  
Well th●n, Creatures, come forth of the Mass in whi●h you lie confused, ●e●ven, Earth, Sea, Stars, Tree●, Fi●hes, Furnaces of Fire, and Flames, 
The first Alarum of Nature.  vast ●xtents of Air, Clouds, Abides, Pr●cipices, listen to the voice and Command of Go●: But in fine, this glorious and happy moment, which saw the birth of times and seasons being arrived. From that instant the World was chosen as the blank Tabl●, wh●r●on God resolved to draw the first strokes of his goodness.  
First Heaven, Earth, Water, and Darkness appeared in an instant as the Field on which all the effects of a most Amorous and sage Wisdom and Prodigality were to be displayed. It was before any other thing that this tenebrous Compound, this confused Medley and this heap of Water and Earth, was the object of him who alone was able to chase away its shadows, and convert its dust into Gold and Crystal. This is the Throne on which the Title of Sovereign Monarch and Lawgiver shall be seen ingraved; But what! This Theatre is too obscure to behold therein the Birth of the World; we must expect the Aurora and the rays of the day.  
But by the way Kind Reader let me tell thee that:  

The World is a Book in Folio Printed all,  
With God's great Works in Letters Capital,  
Each Creature i● a Page, and each effect  
A Fair Character, voi● of all defect:  
But as young Truants trying in the Schools,  
Instead of Learning, learn to play the Fools,  
We g●ze but on the Babies and the Cover,  
The gaudy Flowers, and Edges Gilded over;  
And never further for our Lesson lo●k;  
Within this Volumn of the Various Book:  
Where learned nature modest ones instructs,  
That by his Wisdom God the World conducts▪    

CHAP. II. Giving an account of the Work of the si● days; Of the Creation.  
NAture awake, it is time for the Wor●● to rise, the Night hath proceeded, 
The firs● day of the Creation.  and twelve hours are as it w●re already past since Hea●en and Earth have been in obs●●●ity. Behold the break of day; and those delightful Colours, which play upon the Waters, are the Companions of thant light, which in Pa●estine hath already opened the Doors and Windows of the East, and is going to spread itself upon another Hemisphere. Nevertheless to finish this Career, to perfect this course, and to round the whole Globe twelve hours more are required; and then counting from Evening till Morning, and from Morning till Evening, you shall find all the Moment's, which form the first day, a glorious day, a day illustrious for having first received the light, which gives glory and splendour to all days.  
The second day was not less glorious: For it was that in which God chose to raise up the Firmament, 
The second Day.  like a Circle of Brass, or rather like a Globe of Gold and Azure, which might serve to divide the seven Orbs of the Planets from the Empereal Heaven.  
The next day God descended from Heaven upon Earth, 
The third Day.  and it was on this day, he marked out bounds, and limits to Rivers, Streams, Seas and Torrents, so that the Waters retiring some on one side, and some on the other, just as they were shut up within their Banks, Cliffs and Channels, the Earth appeared, and immediately her sides were found pierced with Caverns, and her back loaden with Mountains and Rocks which raised her in a stately mann●●. Instantly her entrails were filled with Stones and Metals; and whilst those four great portions of the Earth which divide the World, and all the Islands of the Ocean and Seas were Leveled to serve for Empires and possessions of men, the hand of God as just as liberal, did in the bosom of the Earth uphold the Arches of her Prisons and Dungeons, to the end that if the Paradise of Eden was a Garden of delights and pleasures, Hell on the contrary might be an abode of dread, horror and Misery. It was likewise very convenient that as God had mixed Light wit● Darkness, he should create Wild places and desart● to render the Gardens, Fields and Meadows more delightful; and finally having the very same day given Plants, Herbs and Flowers for an Ornament to the Earth, his wise Providence mingled Thorns with Roses, and the most wholesome 〈◊〉 sprung out of the same soil with the Mandrake and Aconite.  
The fourth day, having been as it were the Chariot of the Sun, Moon, 
Th● Forth Day.  Stars, and Planets which shine in the Heavens, may in some manner be called the day of days, since it hath been the Origin of the fires brightness and flames, which are the Soul of the Day.  
Then were the frozen and condensed waters gathered together with more light and heat to form the Body of the Planets: Next the Sun, Moon an● Stars began their courses, periods and revolutions, and took the tracks and ways which were traced out to them from East to W●st.  
Let us turn them upon the fifth d●y, wherein God created the Birds which fly in the Air, 
The fifth Day.  and the Fishes which swim in the Water: One must hear represent unto his thoughts some fair Summer's day, and imagine that he sits in the cool upon the shore of some Island, from thence he must lift up his eyes towards Heaven, and behonld over head thousands of little feathered bodies, cleaving the Air with their wings, piercing the Clouds, and mingling with their flight the sweet Harmony of their warble; He must afterwards behold at his Fe●t a River full of Fishes armed with Scales, some of which ●ut th●ir way nee● the surface of the water, and others through the midst of the waves; some swim alo●t against the stream and Current, others are carried down at the pleasure of the winds, and by the favour of so sweet and rapid an Element.  
Scarce had the Morning brought news of the arrival of the sixth day, 
The sixth Day.  but at the same instant the Earth opene● her eyes unto her Su●, and her ears unto the voice of her God. This dull heavy and insensible Mass not satisfied to have brought forth Flowers Plants and Trees, yet farther displayed itself to produce all sorts of ●ea●ts and Animals, behold the World in her Cradle, a●d Nature in her Infancy, the unmoveable Earth round about her Centre is sown with Flowers, tapistr●d with Tur● and Virdures, beautified with Woods and Forests; she is stately in her Mountains, pleasant in her Valleys, delightful in her Meadows; She is rich in h●r Metals, kertill in her Fruits, and plentiful by her Rivers and Seas which environ her on all parts, and form her a thousan● liquid transpa●ences. The Air incompasses her on all ●ides, an● serves her ●●r a veil to temp●r th● over-hu●●d influences of the Moon, and the too ar●ent R●y● of the Sun. The Heavens like pendent Roofs and rolling Arches are strewed with Flowers, Emeralds and Rubies. What doth remain aft●r all these Prodigies of Power, and all these works of Love? O Power! O Love! I cannot condemn his fancy who sai● th●t Love produced Heaven out of a Chaos, and the World in six days out of a confused and undigested Lump.  

N●t ●ut God c●uld have in a ●em●rt made  
This Flowery M●nsion where Mankind doth Trade▪  
Spread heavens blue Curtains and those La●ps have Burnished,  
Earth, Air, and Sea with Beasts, Birds, Fish ●ave 〈◊〉.    

CHAP. III. Wherein you have an account of the Creation of Adam.  Gen. 2. 
Yet still there wants a Creature which may  
Over these Senseless Beasts have Rule and Sway:  
God t●●n makes Man with Face towards the Sky,  
He's the true likeness of the Deity.  
GOD now deliberates upon the enterprise of a Noble Work, and the Counceil is held in the Conclave of the most holy Tri●i●ie, the three Persons are assembled; Power, Wisdom, and Love take th●ir seats near the Paradise of E●●n.  
An● it is concerning Man and hi● Creation, and not concerning those proud and Rebellious Spirits, whose shameful revolt have justly expelled them from the Heav●nly I●rusalem, that the decree i● past; it is on him God Reflected, and it is he who must be substituted in the place of Angels. It is thi● Act which makes the World behold God's Masterpiece, the object of his Favours, and the most glorious term of his Power. O Sun stop here thy Course and 〈◊〉 witness of his Birth who h●th been the cause and end of thine:  
It was as I conceive about high Noon, 
The time of Ma●● Creation.  when the Earth was resplendent with Light, that this Animated Sun was born. I● was by the Light of Nature's greatest Bonfire that God vouchsafed to stoop so low as Earth to take Clay, out of which he form the Body of the first Man.  

Now of all Cre●tures which God did mak●,  
Man was the last tha● living ●●●ath did tak●.  
Not that he was the least, or that God durst  
Not undertake so Noble a Work at first,  
Rather, because he should have made in vain,  
So great a Prince, without on whom to Reign,  
A wise Man never brings his bi●den Guests  
Into his Parlour till his Room be dressed,  
Garnished with Lights, and Tables neatly spread,  
Be with full Dishes well nigh furnished.  
So our great God, who (bounteous ever) keeps  
Here open Court, and th' ever-bound lesse-deeps,  
Of sweetest Nectar Onus still distils,  
By twenty times ten thousand sundry Quills.  
All the admirable Creatures made before,  
Which Heaven, Earth and Ocean do Adorni  
Are but Essays, compared in every part,  
To this Divinest Masterpiece of Art,  
Therefore the supreme Peerless Architect,  
When (of mere nothing) he did first erect  
Heaven, Earth, Air and Seas, at once his thought  
His word and deed all in an instant wrought:  
But when ●e would his own selves Type Create,  
Th' Honour of Nature, th' Earth's Sole Potentate:  
As if he would a Council hold, he Citeth  
His Sacr●d Power, his Prudence he inviteth,  
Summons his Love, his Justice he adjourns,  
Calleth his Goodness, and his Grace returns,  
To (as it were) consult about the Birth,  
And building of a second God of Earth▪  
And each (a part) with liberal hand to bring,  
Some excellence unto so rare a thing.  
Or rather, he consuls with's only Son,  
(His own portrait) what proportion,  
What Gifts, what Grace, what Soul he should bestow,  
Upon his Viceroy of this Realm below.  
When th' other things God fashioned in their kind,  
The Sea t'aboun● in Fishes he assigned,  
The Earth in Flocks, but having man in ha●d,  
His very self he seemed to Command.  
He both at once both life and Body lent  
To other things, but when in Man he meant,  
In Mortal Limbs immortal life to place,  
He seemed to pause, as in a weighty cause,  
And so at sundry moments finished,  
The Soul and Body of Earth's glorious head.   
And now Adam, and Eve too (who was yet to be form out of one of Adam's Ribs) must be the causes of our Good or Evil, and on their good or bad Fortune ours must wholly depend.   

CHAP. FOUR Giving a Pleasant account of the Terrestrial Paradise or Garden of Eden, in which Adam was first placed: together with th● miraculous manner of Eves production with the supposed manner of Adam's firs● nuptial addresses to her, and of their joyful Marriage.  Gen. 2. 
In Eden's Garden full of fruitful Trees,  
Adam is placed, to taste all Fruits he sees;  
Except the Fruit of one Tree, which if he  
Do taste, the forfeit is that he must die,  
Scarce was Adam created but he found himself a Paradise; and he even from the Morning his birth, was placed under the most happy and delightful Climate that Nature did afford.  
Go then Adam, it is God who both calls and conducts thee. Enter happily this Garden of Eden 〈◊〉 Paradise into which he leads thee; put thyself 〈◊〉 the shelter of this Tree: For it is the Tree of Knowledge and immortality, which he hath Planted for thee: Divert thy Eyes upon these Tulips, upon these Gillyflowers, upon these Roses, upon these Purple Velvet flowers, and upon these Lillys; walk thou over the 〈◊〉, over the Thyme, over the Camomyle, and over this green Tapestry, which is so odoriferous; be not affrighted at the sight of th●se Tigers, these Leopards, and of all these more furious Beasts: For God ●ath given thee power to Rule them, and there is no● one in whom thy Innocence begets not respect. Take then the Rod into thy hand, and Govern all these Flocks and Herds, impose Laws on them, and Give them wha● Name's thou pleasest,  

Doubtless, when Adam Saw our Common Air,  
He did admire the mansion rich and fair  
Of his Successors, for Frosts keenly Cold  
The Shady Locks of Forests, had not pol'd;  
Heaven had not Thundered on our Heads as yet;  
Nor given the Earth her sad divorces Writ:  
But when he once had entered Paradise,  
The Remnant World he justly did despise:  
(Much like a Boor far in the Country Born,  
Who, never having seen but Kine and Corn:)  
Oxen, and Sheep, and homely Haml●ts Thatched;  
(Which found, he counts as Kingdoms, hardly matched)  
When afterwards he happens to behold  
Our wealthy Lon●on's wonders manifold:  
The silly peasant thinks himself to be,  
In a new World, and gazing greedily;  
One while he, Art-less, all the Arts admires;  
Then the fair Temples, and the Top-less Spires:  
Their firm Foundations, and the ma●●ed Pride  
Of all the sacred Ornaments be side.  
Anon he wonders at the differing Graces,  
Tongues, guests, Attires, the Fashions & the Faces;  
Of-●usie-buzzing Swar●s, which still he meets,  
Ebbing and Flowing over all the Streets:  
Then at the Signs, the Shops, the Weights, th● Measures,  
The Handicrafts, the Rumours, Trades, and Treasures.  
But of all Sights none seems him yet more strange,  
Then the rare beauteous, sttately rich Exchange.  
Another while he marvels at the Thames,  
Which seems to bear huge Mountains on her Streams:  
Then at the fair built Bridge, which he doth judge  
More like a Dreadful City than a Bridge;  
And glancing then along the Northern shore,  
That princely Prospect doth Amaze him more.)  
For in this Garden Man delighted so,  
That (rapt) he wished not if he awaked or no:  
If he beheld a True thing or a Fable;  
Or Earth, or Hea●'n, all more ●hen admirabl●.  
For such Excess his ecstasy was small,  
Not having Spirit enough to muse withal,  
He wished him hundred-fold redoubled Senses,  
The more to taste so rare sweet Excellency's:  
Not knowing, whither Nos●, or Ears, or Eyes,  
Sm●ll, heard, or saw, more Savours, Sounds, or Dyes.   
Immediately after God resolved to give him a Companion, 
The production of Eve.  for it was not convenient that Man should be all alone: For this end he closed Adam's Eyelids, and charmed his senses by a Heavenly Sleep, which th● Major part of the Greek Fathers, according to th● Translation of the Septuagint, call an extatick and ravishing repose. This man then thus rapt in his Ecstasy felt not God's hand, which gently and without pain plucked out a Rib, whereof he form the first Woman, who was immediately brought unto Adam to be his Companion and his dear Moiety.  
Scarce had Adam cast his Eyes on her but he cried out, Ah, these are Bones of my Bones, and this Flesh was drawn out of my Flesh; just as if he had said, Come O my Love, the dearest portion of myself, you shall be from henceforth my Wife, and I will be your Husband. We will be but one Heart in two Bodies; And though ●e have two Souls we will have at least but one Mind and Will.  

Now after this profound and pleasing trance,  
No sooner adam's ravished Eyes did glance,  
On the rare beauties of his New-come-half:  
But in his Heart he began to leap and laugh,  
Kissing her kindly, calling her his Life,  
His Love, his Stay, his Rest, his Weal, his Wife,  
His other-self, his help (him to refresh)  
Bone of his Bone, Flesh of his very Flesh.  
Source of all joys, sweet He-Shee coupled one. 
Adam's Epithalamium, or Wedding Song.   
Thy Sacred Birth I never think upon,  
But (ravished) admire how God did then,  
Make two of one, and one of two again.  
O Blessed Bone! O happy Marriage!  
Which dost the match 'twixt that and us presage:  
O chastest Friendship! Whose pure Flames impa●t,  
Two Souls in one, two Hearts into one Heart.  
Oh Holy knot in Eden instituted,  
Not in this Earth ●ith Blood and wrongs polluted;  
This done the Lord commands the happy pair,  
With chaste embraces to replenish fair,  
Th' unpeopled World; that, while the World endures,  
Here might succeed their living Portraitures.   
Wives and Husbands, learn then from hence a lesson which teacheth you the Laws of Conjugal Love, 
An excellent lesson for Husbands and Wives.  and what powerful Motives you have to live in Unity, and in a most perfect and holy Union. Let Man remember that he is the Master, but not a Tyrant. Let Women also never forget their own extraction, and that they were not produced out of the Head as Queens, nor out of the Feet as Servants and Slaves; but out of the Side, and near the Heart, to the intent they may spend all the time of their Marriage in a most sweet Intelligence, and in a most inviolable society: To which Love having given a beginning, nothing but Death alone is able, or at least ought, to Dissolve it.  
But now, the Nuptials of Adam and Eve being past, nothing remains but the Banquet. The Tables are already furnished, and they need but choose amongst all the Dis●es of the World, that which shall appear to them the most Delicious. They are Masters of all that Flies in the Air, of all that Swims in the Water, of all that Creeps or Walks on the Earth; Briefly of all Fruits that are in the Terrestrial Paradise they have the choice; and amongst all the Trees which God had Planted there, h● only reserved the use of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, of which he Expressly and upon pain of Death forbids these two guests to gather any Fruit.  
In this Conjuncture of time the Moon began to assemble her shadows, and God finding all his Works perfect entered into his repose with the Seventh Day.  
Adam and Eve enjoy then at present, all that their Hearts can desire. They possess the Monarchy of the Universe for their Inheritance and Government: Their Empire extends over all out-bounds and limits, the Winds do not blow but at their pleasure, the Rivers and Streams do not Rowl along but at their Command; the Birds do not tune their Warbling Notes but to afford them delight.  
In a word, they are as it were the Gods of the Terrestrial Paradise, and partake in a manner of all the delights which can be tasted in Heaven.  
And now therefore we may suppose Eve thus to bespeke her Husband, or better self in the following manner. Wherein you have a brief account of what befell them after their Fall, viz.  

1. Eves first addresses to Adam, and her Industry in making a Garment for her Husband.  
Sweetheart, quoth she (and then she Kissed him)  
My Love, my Life, my Bliss my joy, my Gem,  
My Souls dear Soul, take in good part (I prithee)  
This pretty Present that I gladly give thee.  
Thanks my dear all (quoth Adam then) for this,  
And with three Kisses he requites her Kiss.  
Then on he puts his painted Garment new,  
And Peacock-like himself doth often view;  
Looks on his Shadow, and in proud amaze,  
Admires the hand that had the art to cause,  
So many several parts to meet in one,  
To fashion thus the acquaint Mandilion.   

2. Adam and Eves Winter Suits.  
But, when the winter's k●ener breath began  
To Cristalliz● the baltic Ocean,  
Our Grandsire, shrinking, 'gan, to shake and shiver,  
His Teeth to Chatter, and his Beard to quiver.  
Spying therefore a Flock of Muttons coming,  
(Whose Freze-clad bodies feel not Winter's numing;  
He takes the fairest, and he nocks it down:  
Then by good hap, finding up●n the Down  
A sharp great Fish-bone (which long time before,  
The Roaring flood had cast upon the shore.)  
He Cuts the Throat, fleyes it, and spreads the fell,  
Then dries it, pares it, and he scrapes it well,  
Then clothes his Wife therewith; and of such Hides  
Slops, Hats, and Doublets, for himself provides.   

3. Their Lodging and first Building.  
A Vaulted Rock, a hollow Tree, a Cave,  
Were the first Buildings that them shelter gave;  
But, finding th' one to be too-moist a hold,  
Th' other too narrow, th' other over-cold,  
Like Carpenters, within a Wood they choose,  
Sixteen fair Trees that never Leaves do loose;  
Whose equal front in quadran form prospected,  
As if of purpose Nature them erected,  
Their shady bows first bow they tenderly,  
Then enter braid, and bind them curiously;  
That one would think that had this Harbour seen,  
'T had been true, Ceiling painted-over green,   

4. At length they get better Habitations.  
Afther this trial, better yet to sense,  
Their tender flesh from th' Airy violence;  
Upon the top of their sit-forked Stems,  
They lay across bare Oaken boughs for Beams,  
Then these again with Leavy boughs they load,  
So covering close their sorry Cold abode.  
And then they ply from the Eaves unto the Ground▪  
With Mud-mixt Reed to wall their Mansion round,  
All save a hole to the Eastward situate,  
Where straight they clapped a Hurdle for a Gate;  
(Instead of Hinges banged on a With)  
Which with a slight both Shuts and Openeth.   

5. Their first Invention of Fire.  
Yet Fire they lack●: But lo, the Woods that whistle▪  
Amidst the Groves, so oft the Laurel justle,  
Against that Mulberry, that their angry Claps  
Do kindle Fire, that burns the Heath bour Copse.  
When Adam saw a r●ddy vapour rise,  
In glowring Streams; as turned with fear he flies,  
It follows him, until a naked Plain,  
The greedy fury of the flame restrain:  
Then back he turns, and coming somewhat nigher  
The kindled Shrubs, perceiving that the fire  
Dri●s his dark clothes, his Colour doth refresh,  
An● un-benums his Sinews and his Flesh:  
By th' unburnt end, a good big brand he takes,  
And hying home a fire he quickly makes.  
And still maintains it, till the Starry Twins,  
Celestial breath another Fire begins.   

But Winter being come again it grieved him,  
T' have lost so fond what Relieved him;  
Trying a thousand ways sit● now no more,  
Th● justling Trees his damage would restore.   

While (else where musing) one day he sat down  
Upon a steep Rock craggy-forked crown,  
A foaming Beast come towards him he spies;  
Within whose Head stood burning Coals for Eyes:  
Then suddenly with boisterous Arms he throws  
A knobby Flint, that hummeth as he goes;  
Hence flies the Beast, th' ill-aimed flint shaft grownding  
Against the Rock, and on it oft rebounding,  
Shivers to Cinders, whence there issued  
Small sparks of fire no sooner born then dead.  
This happy chance made Adam leap for Glee;  
And quickly calling his cold Company:  
In his left hand a s●ining Flint he l●cks,  
Which with another in his right he knocks.  
So up and down, that from the coldest stone,  
At every stroke small lively Sparkles Shone.  
Then with the dry Leaves of a withered Bay,  
The which together handsomely they lay▪  
They ●ake the falling fire, which like a Sun  
Shines clear, and smok-less in the Leaf begun.   

6. Eves Mouth at first serves in stead of a pair of Bellous.  
Eve, Kneeling down, with hand her head sustaining,  
And on the low ground with her Elbow leaning,  
Blows with her Mouth; and with her gentle blowing,  
Stirs up the heat, that from the dry Leaves glowing;  
Kindles the Read, and then that hollow Kex  
First fires the small, and they the greater Sticks.    

CHAP. V. ●herein you have an account of the Disasters and Banishment of Adam and Eve out of Paradise, with a supposed Dialogue between Adam and Eve, and likewise between Eve and the Serpent.  Gen. 3. 
The Woman's tempted by the Serpent's while,  
To eat the Fruit, she straight the Man beguiles.  
A Cherub chaseth them with Sword and Fire,  
Out of fair Eden's Garden in great Ire.  
ADam and Eve are happy, but how long will- this happiness endure? Doth Adam remember that he is a Man, and a Man of Earth? Doth Eve well understand that her Sex is mo●e Light, ●ore frail, and less constant? Adam art thou Ignorant that nothing is more flattering, and more cunning than a Woman, when her mind is excited by ●ome passion? Beware then Adam of this Woman; ●or my own part I imagine to have in a manner seen her behind a Tree, and to my thinking I have heard her ●●eak something unto a Serpent.  
The Serpent if I mistake not first beginning to dialogue with her after the following manner, viz.  ●erp. 
Not eat? Not taste? Not touch? Not cast an Eye?  
Upon the Fruit of this fair Tree? And why?  
Why eatest thou not what Heaven ordained for Food?  
Or canst tho● think that bad which Heaved called Go odd?  
Why was it made if not to be enjoyed?  
Neglect of Favours makes a Favour void:  
Blessings unused, pervert unto a Wast,  
As well as Surfeits: Woman do but taste:  
See how the Laden Boughs make silent suit  
To be enjoyed: Look how the bending Fruit  
Meet thee half way; Observe but how they crouch  
To kiss thy Hand; Coy Woman, Do but touch:  
Mark what a pure Vermilion blush has died  
Their swelling cheeks, and how for shame they hide  
Their Palsy Heads to see themselves stand by  
Neglected: Woman, do but cas● an Eye,  
What bounteous Heaven ordained for use, refuse not;  
Come, pull and Eat: YE abuse the thing ye use not.  Eve, 
Wisest of Beast, our Great Creater did  
Reserve this Tree, and this alone forbid;  
The rest are freely ours, which doubtless are  
As pleasing to the Taste, to the Eye as fair:  
But touching this, his strict Commands are such:  
'Tis Death to Taste, no less than Death to Touch.  Serp. 
Pish, Death's a Fable: Did not Heaven inspire  
Your equal Elements with Living Fire:  
Blown from the spring of Life? Is not that breath  
Immortal? Come, ye are as free from Death  
As he that made you. Can the flames Expire  
Which he has kindled? Can ye quench his Fire?  
Did not the Great Creators' voice proclaim  
What ere he made (from the blue Spangled frame,  
To the poor Leas that trembles) very good?  
Blessed he not both the Feeder and the Food?  
Tell, Tell me then, what danger can Accrue  
From such blessed Fruit, to such half Gods as you  
Curb needless fears, and let no fond Conceit  
Abuse your freedom; Woman take and Eat.  Eve. 
'Tis true, we are immortal; Death is yet  
Unborn, until Rebellion make it debt,  
Indeed, I know the Fruit is good, until  
Presumptuous disobedience make it ill.  
The Lips that open to this Fruits a Portall,  
To let in Death and make immortal mortell.  Serp. 
You cannot die. Come Woman, taste and fear not:  Eve. 
Shall Eve transgress? I dare not, O I dare not.  Serp. 
A afraid? Why drawest thou back thy timorous Arm?  
Harm only fa●ls on such as fear a Harm.  
Heaven knows and fears the virtue of this Tree,  
'Twill make ye perfect Gods as well as he.  
St●e●ch forth thy Hand, and let thy fondness never  
Fear Death: Do, Pull, and Eat, and Live for ever.  Eve. 
'Tis but an Apple, and it is as good  
To do, as to desire. Fruits made for Food:  
●le pull, and taste, and t●mp● my Adam too,  
To know the Secrets o● this dainty.  Serp. 
Do.  

EPIGRAM.  
Vnluckey Parliament! Wherein at l●st,  
Both Houses are agreed, and firmly p●st;  
An Act of Death confirmed by higher powers:  
O h●d it had but such Success as ours.   
And now Eve being thus seduced by the Serpent, we may suppose Adam Advancing up to her, bespeaking her after the following manner, viz.  Adam. 
From whence dost tho● come▪ an● why dost thou leave him all alone, who is the heart of thy heart, and the soul of thy soul? Where can be the Members without the Head, & the Head without the Members? What, dost thou not know, that I am to be wit●ess of all thy Actions, and that I must give an account unto God, for what thou shalt do? what fruit is this, that thou hold'st in thy hand?  Eve. 
Ah my Son, my Friend, my dear Husband, would you did but know what hath happened since I was absent from you? Not far from hence I met a Serpent of a Prodigious and extraordinary shape, he also spoke to me, contrary to the use of Beasts. For my part I did believe that he was a Prodigy of Heaven, and an Angel which God sent me under the form of a Serpent. He showed me the Tree of Life, and promised me, that if I would Eat of is' Fruit, I should become like unto God, and have a perfect knowledge of Good and Evil; I told him, that God had forbid it us upon pain of death; but he protested to me, that on the contrary this fruit hath the juice of Life and Immortality: For my part I have gathered it. I have eaten of it, and I entreat you to taste as little of it as you please.  
O God how eloquent is the malice of a Woman▪ and what powerful charms and persuasions hath she? Her Lips and Mouth dis●ill at once both Honey and Poison; her Tongue shoots forth Arrows of Death and Life; her very looks are so many Lightnings, which she mingleth with the darts of her Passions.  
This is that which destroyed the Angel of the Terrestrial Paradise, the Monarch of the World, and the Father of all Mankind. He chose rather to disobey God, than contradict his Wife: For it was from his own Wife's hand he took this fatal Apple, which would choke his Posterity. O wretch▪ What haste thou done? Open a little thine Eyes, and blush r●ther at the sight of this Crime, than at thy Nakedness? Adam what hast thou done; why dost thou hide thy 〈◊〉?  
Adam where art thou? God calls thee, thou must Answer, thou must appear; in vain is it to seek out shades and groves, to oppose the Word who gives speech to the Dumb, and those Eyes whose least glances make the day to break in the darkest Dungeons and greatest obscurities.  
Adam, what answerest thou? Alas, hast thou no pity on thyself, and all thy Children.  
In conclusion Adam lays the fault on his Wife, the Woman accuseth the Serpent, and instead of accusing themselves, to sweeten the indignation of the Judge, they make excuses to enkindle his Wrath, and to render themselves unworthy of Pardon. Ah! How far more prudently had both of them done, if with bended Knees on the ground, with tears in their Eyes, with sighs from their Hearts, and con●ession from their Mouths, they had said unto God, Lord take pity on us, and upon all our poor Children? But alas, they are wholly insensible, they ●ann●t acknowledge their offence, wherefore no Clemency, no Pardon.  
Go then Serpent accursed of God, go creep upon ●he ●arth, and with shame trail thy Body and thy S●ales, biting the Earth with thy Teeth. It is thou ●hat hast unhappily seduced the first of Womankind, ●nd therefore War shall be eternally enkindled between thee and the Woman.  
As for thee O Wo●an▪ who wert the Origine and ●●urce of Evil, know that thy miseries shall daily find ●●plorable increases: Moreover thou shalt conceive with ●●in, and shalt not 〈◊〉 forth th● Fruit but amidst the throws of a painful Labour. In fine, thou shall be un●er the Command of Man: And he shall be not only ●hy Master, 〈◊〉 sometimes thy Tyrant.  
As for th●●, O Man! Remove far from this Sa●red abode: Go seek thy Bread at the price of thy sweated and Blood; go follow the Blow and Cart, to ●e the Companion of Beasts, and to cultivate the Earth, which thy pride hath swollen up with Winds, and covered with Thorns, Brambles, and Briers. Go whether thou pleasest: but know that thy life shall be but a large course of misfortunes, and a disastrous list, where thou must continually wrestle with all Creatures, and be the fatal mark of all sorts of accidents and mis-haps, which in f●ne will give thee no repose till thou shalt return into the Bosom of the Earth. For dust thou art, and to Dust thou shalt return.  Gen. 3. 
Poor banished Adam ploughs with sweat and pain,  
The barren Earth, and there in soweth Grain:  
Eve fares as ill, her Children she doth bear  
In grievous pain, an● nurses them in fear.  
Scarce were these destroying Thunderbolts darted upon the head of Adam and Eve, and consequently on all Mankind, but an Angel environed with Fire and Flames, seized on the gate of Paradise, and shut it for ever against these miserable and exiled Persons. Alas! why would not the Earth have rather swallowed them up? And why would not that beautiful Garden, which had been the Throne of their Innocence, become at least the Sepulchre of their Sin?  
But seeing it was not so, Ah! Poor Children of Adam, pitiful Relics of an unfortunate Father, let me address myself to you, behold then your Patrimony, the Rights of your Families, and what Adam and Eve have left you for Legacies. Let no Man hereafter be astonished to see you wand'ring about Countries like Pilgrims, 
Adam's legacies to all his Children.  and going from door to door in Cities, with Tears in your Eyes, sighs in your Hearts, with dusty Hair, and Sunburnt Faces; Let no Man ●e any more astonished to see you go bareheaded, and barefooted, a Wallet on your Shoulders, and a Staff in your Hand: for these are the portions of Sin. Miserable Mortals, the Earth from henceforth shall be to you but a Dark Prison, Life but a Galley, and the World but a great Chain of Misfortunes. The Elements shall join in Arms against you. The Fire shall enkindle frightful Comets over your Heads; The Air shall dart forth merciless Thunderbolts upon your Houses; The Sea shall raise its Billows against your Towers, and the Earth shall be the Theatre of Wars, the Meadow in which the Plague shall Mow, and the Field of Battle, where all the powers of the World, and Hell itself shall deliver you up to Tragic Combats. In fine your Bodies shall be Subject to all sorts of Maladies▪ and your minds to all kinds of Passions.  
But Hark! Hark! Methinks now I hear already Envy grumbling and murmuring in the Heart of Cain. I hear methinks the cry of Abel. Let us therefore observe a while what passeth.   

CHAP. VI The Murder of Abel, and the Despair of Cain, together with a supposed Dialogue between Conscience, Tyrant Sin, Cain and Abel.  Gen. 4. 
Cain and Abel after Sacrifice,  
God accepts Abel's, Cain's be doth despise;  
Cain enraged his Brother Abel slays,  
For which God Scourgeth Cain all his days.  
ABEL was from his Birth, of so sweet and facile, so pliant, and tractable a disposition, a A●am and Eve were even enforced to bestow on him their most tender affections. Cain on the contrary▪ who was his Elder Brother, appeared to be of s● fierce, and imperious a Nature, that at length t● sweeten it, they resolved to oblige him to cultivate the Earth, that his spirit might learn how to soften the hardest of elements, and to temper the harshness of his Courage.  
Abel at the same time employed himself in keeping Sheep, and guiding his Father's Flocks amidst the Pastures: His mind in repose, and amidst the silenc● of the Field●, began to take his flight to Heaven.  
Upon which we may now suppose the cruel & monstrous TyrantSin setting forth on his first Travels into t●eWorld, 
Sin began his first Travels.  Apollyon following him close at his he●ls▪ to see him do his business effectually, and to assist him in every enterprise; and so it fell out, just as he began his Journey, Cain and Abel were offering Sacrifices; and having intelligence of both their Dispositions, he made up to Cain's door, and there lay co●ching down, like a hurtful Beast, ready to devour; and secretly whispering in to his Ear, to spare the best of his substance to enrich himself; and also intimated to him, that all that he offered to the Lord was lost, and would never be rewarded; and Faith not being in Cain's House, he hearkened to this cursed stranger, and did accordingly; yet he brought his Offering, lest he should displease his Father A●am, who, it is thought, at that time, was high Priest, which Office, afterwards, fell to the Firstborn in the Family. But when Cain saw his Offering was not excepted, and his Brothers was, this Enemy being near, knocked at h●s door.  Cain. 
Who is there?  Sin. 
Have you, Sir, any Room for a Traveller.  Cain. 
What are you?  Sin. 
A Friend, one that loves you dearly, and am troubled to ●ee how you are abused and basely dealt with, by your younger Brother. Can you bear the thoughts that he should be in the favour of his Maker, and be the only Darling of his Father, and you slighted and contemned in this sort?  Cain. 
By this, I cannot but think tho● art indeed a Friend, and dost bear good will to me; pray come in:  
A●d he presently lo●g'd him in the best Room he had: neither do I read of any opposition made against him, by any in the H●●●e.  
He had no sooner received him, but immediately (by secret in●tigatio●● and Instructions from Apollyon, who was glad to see him entertained) he apply●ed himself to him after this manner:  Sin. 
Let this Villain Ab●l, be the object of thy hatred: never speak friendly to him more in love; but let thy Wrath out against him to the uttermost: shall he be accepted; what's he; art not thou better th●n him? He will ere long (though thy younger Brother) be come thy Lord and Master, and Rule ●ver thee; and thou shalt be made a mere Underling.  Cain. 
I am truly of your mind; my Father and Mother's Heart. I find already i● taken f●om me, and s●t upon this ca●●ing Supplanter.  
I hate him as●●●te a Toa●, neither can I ●ndure to see him: Thu● Cain was ●●ll'd with Wrath, and his countenance ●●ll; i. e. he showed himself s●ll of Rage and Discontent.  Sin. 
Most Noble C●i●, Heir of the World; I have a Business of great Importance to imp●rt to thee.  Cain. 
Sir, what is it?  Sin. 
I am a Servant to a mighty Prince, whose Power and Kingdom, 'tis like thou hast not heard of it: And he hath a dear and cordial love for th●●, and hath sent me to thee, with certain instructions, to put thee in a way to be rid of this your Canting Brother; and I will assure you, 'tis high time, for he is now at Prayer, and begins to grow more and more in favour, etc.  Cain. 
I am Glad ro hear this News: But which way can the thing ●e done?  Si●. 
Sir, you will nev●r be at Peace, nor have any Ground to conclude your Father will mak● you his Heir▪ or indeed ever regard you, until he be rid out of the World: But if this be once done, all is your own.  Cain. 
But how shall I do to get rid of him?  Sin. 
Why, since there is none you can employ secretly, to do it; do you kill him; and then declare ●e murdered himself, being overcome with melancholy, or blown up with Pride and self-conceit up●n his late ambitious thought, in aspiring after Rule and Government. Ill warrant you Sir, this will hide the Fact and you shall never be discovered.  
Presently upon this motion, Conscience stepped in; and spoke after this m●nn●r:  Conscience. 
Sir, do not this evil Deed; he is your ●nly Brother and hi● Blood will cry for Vengeance.  Sin. 
What dost do my Cain; why dost t●ou m●ke a 〈◊〉?  Cain. 
I am hindered by a timorous F●llow in my H●●se, whom I know n●t: some Body I think hath 〈◊〉 h●m hither, on purpose to be a Plague to me.  Si●. 
Re●ard him n●t, I will undertake to stis●e him, ●●d spoil his telling Tales. Go call thy Brother s●●th, and walk together in the ●ields. Be sure ●ar●y it lov●ingly to him, lest he mistrust thee: and I warrant you he will talk with you about Religion, and condemn your way of Worship: and though he be your younger Brother, yet will undertake to teach thee: and if thou wilt be a Fool, and suffer it, do.  Cain. 
I will try that, so far I am resolved to take thy Counsel.  
And immediately, away he went and called his Brother forth; and they walked together in the Field.  Cain. 
Brother, what a vast Fabric is here? This World in which we are placed is full of great Wonders and excellent Rarities; and all after our Father Adam is dead will be ours; all the Riches, I mean, and Glory thereof: and my Heart Brother, is wonderfully pleased with the thoughts of it: I desire no greater Glory, nor Happiness; though I have heard my Father talk of a Future state beyond the Grave, that exceeds all things here below.  Abel. 
Brother, this World, and all the Wonders we do behold, doth show forth the Glory and handy Works of jehovah our Blessed God and Creator; whose we are, and whom we should serve: for he is a jealous God; and executes Righteousness and Justice in the Earth: and is a Rewarder of all those who diligently seek him.  Cain. 
You are a Fool; I do not believe there is any Reward for Justice and Righteousness, nor Vengeance for Ungodliness.  Abel. 
Brother it grieves me to hear you speak after this manner, for I have had evidence of his Mer●y, and favourable Acceptance already. I am afraid, truly, you are misled by some Enemy: The way you go in Brother is not good; Think upon the World to come.  Cain. 
Wisdom is only with you: I see how you are swollen up with Pride; and what you aim at; leave off your talking of a World to come, for I believe none.  Abel. 
Brother, you show a very wicked, naughty, and unbelieving Heart; I am ashamed to hear your Discourse.  
Some things of this Nature, 'tis rationally supposed they might discourse of: And Cain being afresh moved to Wrath thereby, took the Devil's counsel, and rose up and murdered him,  
See Reverend Mr. Answorth upon this Matter:  
Thus this Tyrant and Monster prevailed; and in a second attempt▪ over came the Fourth part of the World. But see how Sin and the Devil deceived Cain: The Murder was soon discovered; for lo▪ on a sudden, a mighty Cry was heard; Vengeance! Vengeance! God, who is the searcher out of Blood, cries, Where is. Abel thy Brother? Nothing can be hid from his Eye. Murder shall not go unpunished: The Voice of thy Brother's Blood cries to me from the Ground. Gild follows his Sin with the dreadful Wrath of God; And now thou art cursed from the Face of the Earth, etc.  
At this stroke the Heart of Cain becomes a little sensible, and the hardness of his Soul, although too late, begins to soften.  
Alas Lord! (said he) my Iniquity is greater than thy Mercies, and my Sin is too enormous to hop● for Pardon. I confess it, and from this very moment I depart from hence like a banished Man to wander day by day without peace or relaxation. Besides, my Brother's Ghost pursues and torments me, with too much severity: Even thyself, O my God, and my judge, chastest me away far from thy Countenance, and far from the pleasing glances which issue from thine Eyes. Ah then let the Sun and Moon cease to enlighten the World, and let me for ever wander amidst the Murderous shades of Abel, and let my life pine away in obscurity: Otherwise I fear (saith he) that at the first sight and encounter, some one may kill, and treat me according to my deserts.  
No no, Cain, saith God, nothing of what thou ●earest shall happen to thee; and if any one be so rash to attempt on thee, I will make him feel the excess of my Wrath▪ For this effect God imprinted a sensible mark upon his forehead, which served him for a safeguard against all the Assaults of his Enemies. This done, the poor wretch went away all alone, pale, trembling, 
The disquiets and the banishment of Cain.  pursued by the stings of his Soul: And after some wandering arrived in the L●nd of Ede●, lying Eastward. It was under this Climate, and near unto Mount Libanus, that this fugitive at last made his retreat: There it was, where he built a City, and had by his Wife a very numerous posterity.  

And now Mankind with Fruitful Race began,  
A little Corner of the World to Man.    

CHAP. VII. Wherein you have an Account, both of the Building of Noah's Ark, and of his manner of entering into it: Together with a Description both of the Deluge and Drowning of the old World, and of Noah's descent out of the Ark, and his Sacrifices on the Hills of Armenia.  Gen. 6. 
God for Man's sins intends the World to drowned,  
With Men, and Beast, and all that's in it found:  
But he in the Ark saves Noah, and his Seed,  
With pairs of all kinds which on Earth did breed.  
THe Decree is now given, and I see nothing that is able to withhold an arm wholly irritated.  
God reputes himself for having created Man, and bestowed on him all his labour, and affection; he reputes himself, and his Heart riseth at the sight and thought of this Object: In fine, being no longer able to restrain his Wrath and indignation, I swear b● myself, saith he, that I will destroy Man, and efface hi● name and memory over the face of the Universe. I will not spare ev●n Beast's and Birds: To the end, that what hath been a wi●●ess, complice, or even a slave of his crime; shall also be the Companion of the pain and punishment which is ordained him. This said and done: Of so many men, who then lived upon the Earth, and of so many Families, that only of No●h deserved favour, and was freed from Shipwreck.  
God then calls this Holy Man, an● great Patriarch, ●o advertise, and communicate his whole design unto him.  
Fri●nd, ●aith God, the World is in its agony, and my ●ustice shall put an end to this Work, whi●h my Love began. All my patience and delays h●●e only served to make way for evil; and my clemency is converted into rigour; after all, my good●ess is tired, and I am resolved to open all the Torrents of my Wrath; that the World being no longer ●ut a great Abyss, and a vast Sepulchre, may be drowned in it sel●, and that there may n●ver be more m●n●ion of it.  
Go then Noah, and build an Ark of Timber and Planks: Make small apartments in it, and pitch it ●oth within and without. Let it be ●hr●e h●●dre● Cubits in length, and fifty in brea●t●, and thirty in ●●ight: Make th●n a Win●ow a Cu●it h●gh, ●nd in the s●●e contri●e a do●r to go in and out; dispose also Chambers therein, and be careful, that the wh●le be divided in●o three St●●i●s, t● the ●nd the Body of ●●is l●r●e structure may be the more commodious, and ●etter proportioned. Afterwards I will make my accord a●d p●ct with thee: And thou shalt presently enter in with thy Wife, Children, and Cattle. Besides thou shalt conduct into this Sanctuary all sorts of Beasts and Birds, with this distinction, that amongst the clean thou shalt choose seven of every species; and of the unclean, two only: Pairing always the Male and Female, that they may repair the Earth and Air by their Copulations.  
This good Man performed exactly all that God had commanded him; he is already in the Ark, and he bu●ieth himself in disposing and nourishing all these different Species of Beasts, and Birds.  
Seven days were spent about these preparations▪ and in the miraculous enclosure of this new House: At the e●d whereof the Heavens opened on all side●; and the Sun, Moon, and Stars, seemed to be changed into Sources and Channels, the Air and Clouds became a Sea, and all the ●lements joined together to make of the who●e Worl● an Ocean without ●hoars, without bottom, without H●ven, and without limit, Gen. 7. 
The highest Hills by Waters are o'er spread,  
Mountain's, Trees, Towers▪ in Floods lie buried,  
Men, Women, Beast's, and Birds are quite destroyed,  
W●ters possessed all that the Land enjoyed.   
M●an while, where are you the unhappy Inhabitants of the City of Enos? Poor Heirs of Cain, Children of Men, effeminate Spirits, wa●ton Souls, where are you? The Heavens f●ll on your Heads, the Air stifles you, the Water swallows you up, and the Earth vanisheth away. Fath●rs, Mothers, Children, Husba●●s and Wives, Brothers and Sisters, Kindred, Friends wh●re are you? I behold, I behold your Towers bur●ed u●d●r the Waves: I hear your cries, your sighs, and your voices notwithstanding the Tempest; in fin● your flo●ting Bo●ies and your dying Souls ack●owledg●●ut too l●te the excess of your Sins.  
Ah sin, sin, these are thy spoils, and this is the tempest thou hast raised; sin dost thou discern the state into which thou hast reduced the World, the Air, the Earth, and the Heavens?  
O God Must all the Elements weep forty days, and ●s many Nights: And in fine must all Nature be in Mourning, or rather in Triumph? Since every where she erects Trophies, and Mountains of Water to swallow up the most shameful, and most insolent of all Vices.  
During this Triumph, and mourning, Noah stears his Vessel, his Family, and Troops, upon the Billows. This holy man enjoys a Calm, and say●●● securely over these Storms and Billows. He beholds the Day in the midst of Night; and the Tempest, which sinks the whole World even as low as Hell, lifteth him up even as high as the Heavens.  
Range then O Noah, range upon the Water's ●f the Deluge, and expect the day and moment●▪ w●en God shall land thee in the Haven. And thou O Ark that carriest the World, and its Spoils, behold how the Sea makes a halt at thy approach, and keeps back its suspended Waves as it were out of complacency, and an orderly respect. Holy Hous● of God; Fortunate Sanctuary of all Mankind! Float on without Oars or Sails, float on, for it is the Spirit of God, and the hand of the justest of men which directs and Guides thee.  
In effect, scarce were the Forty days expired, when in an instant the Heavens dried up their sources; the air appearded most serrene▪ and the great drops of Rain were turned into Pearls and Dew as it were to give notice of the return of the Sun and Morning. At length, after seven Months contest and conflict, this wand'ring Island, which carried Noah and his Family, landed upon the Mountains of Armenia expecting till the tenth Month, when the other Hills showed their heads & tops: Forty days after which, this most Holy and wise Pilot, who had almost spent a whole year in the pleasing obs●urities of his prison, still victorious and triumphant, resolved at last to op●n its window to give flight and passage to a Grow, which indeed went forth but never returned, There needed then a purer and more faithful Messenger: Noah chose a Dove amongst all the Birds, that she might discover whether the waters were quite retired. But this innocent Creature, and amiable Spy, finding no resting place clean enough, returned presently into the Ark and advertised Noah that the waters of the Deluge were not wholly decreased. It was this news that obliged Noah to expect yet the space of Seven days, after which he took the Dove again and instantly gave her leave to take her Liberty and Flight.  
Noah in expectation, stands one while himself, ●n other some one of his Children, at the Window to see whether this Angel of peace would return or no.  
Behold good news, the Dove is returned; I have a glimpse of her with the Olive-branch she carries in her Beak.  
Noah what sayest thou? Make hast I prithee▪ Receive this little Lega●, and take from his mouth the earnest of peace; And if thou hast a mind t● have more certain assurances, the term of seven daye● will put a period to all thy desires.  
And as soon as the seven days were expired, Noah cast out again the Dove to the mercy of the Waters, of the Air and Earth, where having at las● sound footing, she resolved to abide.  Gen. 8. 
The Heavenly Floodgates are sh●t, and the Wi●d  
Dries up the Waters, the Dove, Land doth find;  
The Ark's aground, Noah doth come ● S●ore;  
God promiseth to drowned the World no more.  
Noah seeing what had passed uncovered the roof of his Ark, and presently perceived the Earth, the Islands, the Haven, the Fields, and the dryedup ways. He heard God also commanding him to depart out of the Ark with all his Company, that he might repeople the universe. And here I leave it unto the curious to imagine what pleasure Noah had at the opening of his Cage: when he saw Eagles, Vultures, Austridges, and all Birds take their flight; following the tract which was to carry them unto their own Climate; God knows also how the Sheep fled far from the Wol●e, the Lion from the Co●k, the Hare ●rom the Dog, which nevertheless by secret and divine charms, held in the Ark a Correspondence without Noise, War, or Enmity.  
In sine, during this jail delivery, and these separations, Noah was careful not to do like Seafaring men, who during the Storm and Tempest, invoke all the Saints of Paradise, and make a thousand vows unto them, which nevertheless they perform not in the Haven, and calm, but by an infinity of Blasphemies, and by the continuation of their Impieties.  
Scarce was this eminent Man (chosen by God for the conservation of the World) descended out of the Ark, but he instantly built an Altar, on which he offered Holocausts and victim in honour of him who had so sweetly, and by such marvellous ways, conducted him to the shore and harbour.  
It is then peradventure for this cause God promiseth unto men and Noah, that the Earth shall be no more accursed for their sake: He assures them that his revenging hand shall never take the Rod so universally to scourge all sinners: that from henceforth Winter and Summer, Cold and Heat, Day and Night, shall have their courses, periods, motions, and vicissitudes, with order, and by regular intervals.  

In all the compass of our floating Inns,  
Are not so many Planks, and Board's, and Pins:  
As Wonders, Strange, and Miracles that ground,  
Man's wrangling reason, and his wills confound.  
And God no less his mighty power displayed,  
When he restored, then when the World he made.    

CHAP. VIII. Giving an account of the Rainbow in the Heavens: Wieh God promised should appear after the Flood, as a sign that he would drowned the World no more.  
GOD resolving to confirm the Oath▪ and Covenant he had made with Noah, was so good and gracious as to imprint the Seal of his contract in the Clouds, to the end the malice of men might never be able to efface it, and that on the contrary he might be obliged never to make war against them, when he should see between him and the World, those illustrious characters of Love▪ and those magnificent Articles of truce, pardon, and peace. Moreover this sign, which appeared in the Heavens, was but a Bow without Arrows; it was a resplendent Arch, and a Circle beset with Diamonds, Emeralds, and Rubies; it was a chain of Gold, Silver, and Pearls; it was a Scarf interwoven with the most lively splendours and the most sensible lights of the Sun and Day. It was the portrait of Peace which appeared under feigned and imaginary colours, or to express in a word all that can be thought, and said when we cast our Eyes on this wonder of the Air; it was the Diadem which St. john discovered on the Head of Almighty God: and which therefore was to be for all eternity the Crown of a God, who can never change, but will everlastingly conserve this Garland and Diadem of peace.  

From henceforth fear no second Flood, that shall  
Cover the whole face of the Earthly Ball.    

CHAP. IX. Giving an account of Noah's being over ta●en with Wine.  Gen. 9 
Naked and Drunk a sleep Cam, Noah saw,  
He mocks and jeers him against nature's Law;  
Sem and Japhet cover his nakedness,  
Cam he doth curse, Sem and Japhet doth bless.  
IT is true; that Men were never more at Pe●ce, the Earth never more pure, and Heaven never poured down so many savours as it shed upon the Earth and the Children of Noah. Nevertheless in the midst of Pleasure, Peace, Concord, Love, Joy, and all sorts of Benedictions, this poor Man, whom all the Waters of the World, and of the Deluge, could not vanquish, was drowned at last in a Glass of Wine.  
O God What scandal, what shame, what disquiet, and what disorder in the Family of Noah? This good old Man, fell cold and stiff on the ground, and it is not known whether he be dead or alive. His Children run presently to help him, but as if the s●●ne of the Wine, which their Father-had taken too inconsiderately, had dazzled and blinded the youngest of them; instead of casting ashes, and Water on the Flaming Coals, which consumed his poor Father, he made a Bonfire of Mirth, and scorn about his Nakedness: And with an unparallelled impudence discovered to the Eyes of all his Brethren, what Nature hath concealed. His Brothers nevertheless were more respectful, and prudent than himself: For immediately Piety cast veyls over their Eyes, and Love, though Blind, found out Artifices to cover an Object which was neither decent nor Lawful to behold. It was in recompense of these chaste duties, that No●h being returne● out of that Abyss, into whi●h Wi●e had precipitated him, opened the Eyes of his Bo●y, and Soul, and afterwards perceiving the unnatural impudence of Cham, he darted forth the Thunder of his malediction against his Son Canaan, beseeching likewise God to bless, and fill Sem, japhet, and all their Progeny, with his Graces. It was from their Posterity all the Generations of the World are descended; and they were the Persons who laid the foundation of Sodom, Niniveh, Salem, and Gomorrha; as also of so many other Famous Cities, from whence afterwards Arts, republics, Policies, Governments, and all the Empires of the Universe took their Rise.  

Noah being willing to beguile the rage,  
of bitter griefs that vexed his feeble age;  
To see with Mud so many Roofs o'er grown,  
And him left almost in the World alone;  
One day a little from his strictness shrunk,  
●nd making Merry, drinking over Drunk:  
A●● silly thinking in that Honey-●a●l,  
To drown his woes he drowns his wits and all.  
His Head grows giddy, and his Foot intents. 
A description of a Drunken Man.   
A mighty f●me his troubled brain tormen●s,  
His idle poattle from the purpose quite,  
Is abrupt Suttering all confused ' and light,  
His Wine stuffed Stomach wrung with Wine he feels,  
His trembling Tent all topsey turvey wheels;  
At last not able on his Legs to stand;  
More like a foul Swine than a sober Man;  
Oppressed with Sleep, he wallows on the Ground,  
His shameless snorting Trunk so deeply drowned  
In self Oblivion that he did not hide,  
Those parts that Caesar covered when he died.    

CHAP. X. Giving a full account of the Building of the Tower of Babel.  Gen. 11. 
To Build up Babel, Adam's Race decree,  
As high as Heaven what passeth there to see;  
God gives them Divers Tongues their thoughts to cross;  
One calls for Mortar, and one bringeth Moss.  
SO it happened not long after this that the Inhabitants of the Earth feeling the Justice of their own Consciences, and they not calling upon God, they feared the coming of another Deluge, so they resolved to build a Tower, and raise the top of it even as high as the Clouds. The chief Undertaker of this famous Structure was the Giant ●●mrod, Grandchild to that Reprobate Cham, who discovered his Father's shame. This Architect was of a proud Nature, and of a Capricious humour, believing that his enterprises, and his designs, were to be executed without the least opposition.  
In effect, never was any work undertaken, and advanced with more Expedition, nor with more Ardour, Zeal, and Submission. But the Grand designer of the World, the Architect of the Universe, and the general Producer of all things, who takes delight to confound the Wisdom of the Wi●e, and to overthrow the Plots, and Enterprises of the most Powerful, beholding these Fortifications raised near midway, and being able no longer to endure this Audacity, and these presumptuous Attempts, resolved at last to overturn all these Fort●, and to cast a general confusion of Tongues amongst the Carpenters, and Masons. This made a Tower of Babel, that is to say of Disorder, War, and Confusion. This Stately Building, this lofty Citadel, this impregnable Fort, was but a Labyrinth of deaf and dumb people, who spoke without hearing one another, & cried out when it was not in any man's power 〈◊〉 help them.  

Bring me quoth one a Trowel, quickly, quick;  
One brings him up a Hammer: Hue this Brick  
Another bids, and then they cleave a Tree;  
Mak● fast this Rope, and then they let it flee;  
One calls for Planks, another Mortar lacks,  
They bring, the first a Stone, the last an Axe;  
One would have Spik●s▪ and him a Spade they give;  
Another asks a Saw, and gets a S●ive:  
Th●s crosl●-●r●st th●y pra●e and point in vain,  
What ●ne ha●h ma●e, a●●ther Mars again.  
Ni●h Br●●●●l●ss all with t●●ir confused yawling,  
In 〈◊〉 labour now begins appawling.  
In Brief, th●se ●l●●●rs s●ein● the Storm arrived.  
Of God's j●st Wrath, all we●k 〈◊〉 Heart deprived,  
Forsake their purpose, and like Frantic Fools,  
Scatter th●ir stuff, and tumble down their Tools.   
Behold the Enterprises and Designs of the World▪ Behold the Structure of the Giants of the Earth, and the Sanctuary of their Pride.  
Vanity of this World! Glory of a few days! Phantasms of the Earth! seeming beauties! Men, what do you think? and why I beseech you, so many Houses, so many Castles, Cities and Villages? cast your Eyes on the Tower of Babel, and dread at least the fate of the like disaster. Finally then make your Wills, Ingrave your Epitaphs, seek out six or seven Foot of Earth, and from henceforth think only on erecting your Tombs. Go, consult your Ancestors, your Fathers, and Masters; cast yourselves at their Feet, enter into their Sepulchers, search into the bottom of their Monuments, and be not affrighted to behold so many ravelled Crowns, so many broken Sceptres, and so much Purple serving only to cover Worms.   

CHAP. XI. Giving a full account of Abraham's departure out of his Territories, and his entri●g into the Fields of Moreth, where he erected an Altar, and where God appeared to him a second time.  Gen. 12. 
Abraham to obey the Lo●ds Command,  
Forsakes his native Soil, for Canaan's Land,  
His Parents leaves like wise, and takes away  
With him, Wife, Servants, and Lot without stay.  
NOw it was, by the Favour and Splendour of conquering Lights, 
The calling of Abraham.  and Victorious voices, that Abraham was chosen amongst Men, as the Person who would be the most obedient, most faithful, and most conformable to the will of God. And now it was as we may suppose by means of an Angel clothed with an humane Body, that Abraham heard distinctly the Voice of God, which said unto him,  
Abraham, It is time to leave thy Country, and Kindred, and to abandon thy Father's House.  
Follow me then, and repair unto a Land, and under a Climate, which I will show thee; every where I will be thy Star, thy Pole, and my Eye shall serve as a Guide, and Torch to conduct thee to thy Haven and Landing-place.  
Well then Abraham, get thee out of thine own Country, leave all thy Friends, and break those many ties, which Bloo● hath woven in thy Veins and Heart. The Milk thou hast sucked is from hence forth no other than p●●son, the Nourishment 〈◊〉 hast received from t●y Parents doth but sustain thy Body, and stifle thy Soul: In sine the Light an● Brightness of Heaven cannot be seen amid the Shades and Smoke of thy Country.  
But what! must poor Abraham leave himself? O my God why dost thou oblige him to forsake ●is beloved Chaldea, and why wouldst thou have him separate himself from his near Kindred and dearest Friends. He wants nothing at home, and it may come to pass, that every thing will sail him amongst Strangers.  

Alas! sai● Abraham, must I needs forgo  
Th●se happy Fields where Euphra●es do●h slow:  
Here I have spen● the ●●st par● of my Age:  
H●re I possess a plenteous 〈◊〉:  
Here have I ●ot me many Fri●nds and Fame,  
An● by my D●e●s attained a glorious Name:  
And must I h●nce, an● le●ve t●is certain State,  
To Roam uncertain (〈◊〉 a Runagate)  
O'er fearful Hills, and through foreign torrents,  
That rush down mountains with their roaring currents  
To seek a country (God knows where and whither,  
Whose unknown Name hath yet scarce sounded hither.  
With Staff in Hand, and Wallet on our Back:  
From Town to Town, to beg for all we lack?  
T' have (briefly) nothing properly our own  
In all the World; no, not our Grave-place known.  
Is't possible, I should endure to see  
The Sighs and Tears my Friends will shed for me:  
O! can I thus my native Soil forsake?  
O! with what Words shall I my Farewell take?  
Farewell Chaldaea, dear delights adieu:  
Friends, Brothers, Sisters, Farewell all of,   
But now these were motives too weak to break the Desires, and designs of a Soul which God courteth. It is a delicious thing to leave the streams for their source, and to forsake ourselves and Friends, to give ourselves unto our Maker.  
Abraham understood all these verities from the very morning of his vocation; and at the first overture of the savours which God imparted to him, he took a Staff in his Hand, and became a Pilgrm in the World, sufficiently discovering, that the life of Man is but a Pilgrimage, and that a Man shall first, or last, reach to the Port.  
And now methinks the Sun doth not rise, but to present unto him a thousand Portraitures of those whom he hath left behind. The Moon, and the Stars, show him by Night, and in his sleep, nothing but the Images of those whom he hath abandoned, and he awakes a Thousand times with sighs from his Heart, and tears in his Eyes, to embrace the shadows, and Phantasms of his dearest Friends.  
And now this poor man is not gone a Musket-shot from the City, and scarce hath lost the sight of his steeple, but he presently resumes his former ways, and returns with an intent to build his 〈…〉 rather his Tomb, on his Chimney's 〈…〉  
March than Abraham: Carry with 〈…〉 Sara, who makes up the moiety of 〈…〉 till God shall please to give thee 〈…〉 be the Son and be thou a Father to 〈…〉  
Farewell then for ever dear Land of 〈…〉 you Lot, Abraham, and Sara go joy 〈…〉.  
They are already gone, and I see 〈…〉 out of the Territories of Sichem to 〈…〉 directly unt● 〈◊〉 plains of Moret● ●●ere God a secon● time appeared to Abrah●m, and there also he gave him both 〈…〉, and possession of the Land of Canaan for himself and his posterity.  

God in Man's shape appeared to Abraham,  
As he sought shelter from the Sun's hot Flame.  
Abraham feeds God with what good ●heer he could,  
That Sara should bring forth a Child, God told.   
Is not this a most admirable draught of God's sage prodigality and illustrious Magnificence, who in exchange of a foot of ground gives entire Worlds? He will have the Heart, and for the Heart he gives himself, and in him the Creator of Souls, and the Soul of all Hearts. Alas! what is a corner of the Earth compared with the Land of promise? What is a Country and City in respect of the Firmament? And where shall we find Brethren, Kindred, or Friends, without pretention, interest, or any suspicion of deceit, as are found in Heaven?  
It remains then for all thos●, who he hath taken by the hand, as he did Abraham, and led them over the Banks of jordan, and through the shades of Hermon, ●o build there an Altar on which they might offer Sacrifices of Love, and Acknowledgements, as Abr●●am did.   

CHAP. XII. 〈…〉 account of the Voyages of 〈…〉 Sara into the Land of Egypt.  Gen. 12. 
〈…〉 on, and ' tho the Age  
And 〈◊〉 Terah slowed his Pilgrimage;  
The rest of his he 〈…〉 in sine,  
To Canaan (since called 〈◊〉.)  
ABRAHAM now leaving his own Country, instantly cast up his eyes, and well resolved to follow God every where, who served him for a Master, a Conductor, a Sanctuary and Country. He left then the plains and valleys, to ascend the Mountains, as still desireous always to make new progresses, and to advance without any intermission.  
It is he then whom I see spreading his Pavilions on the top of a Mountain, and erecting an Altar to invoke the name, and assistance of God his Conductor.  
Listen a while, and hear from his Mouth the thoughts of his Soul!  
Great God I have forsaken all for thee, 
A farewell to the World.  and at the first command I received, I obeyed the voice of thy most amiable providence; at length behold me here out of my Country, f●r from my own Poss●ssi●ns, and severed from my 〈◊〉 Friends: I am ignorant, where I am; but ● only ●●ow that I am with th●e. It sufficeth me, O my God, all my desires are pleased, and my Soul is fully satisfied. Farewell all my Kindred, farewell my Frien●s, farewell my Country. O my God me t●●nk● at ev●ry st●p I make, I Conquer a Kingdom, all m● Guests are Kindred, the little Hills are my Dungeons ●he Fields my Ci●i●s, and all t●●t the day discovers to 〈◊〉 of Earth, of Rivers, of Air, and of Seas, is my Country, my House, an● my pl●●e of Entertainment.  
And now without further d●lay I leave the east to ●●vance unto the South.  
Now I no ways doubt, but our Pilgrim in his ●●urneys, towards the South ●eels also more resplen●●nt ardours, and more enfired lightnings, which 〈◊〉 him with more violent, and more lively 〈◊〉 and designs.  
Mean while a general ●amine came over all the ●and of Canaan▪ in so much a●our h●ppy Traveller is ●●forc'd to take a farther journey, and to descend ●●to Egypt.  
This Man Wholly enlightened by God, and who 〈◊〉 in the Bosom of his faithful moiety, the 〈◊〉, and most holy flames of his Love, beheld a far 〈◊〉 the smoke of a most dangerous fire, and fearing 〈◊〉 his dear Sara should be there either by mishap 〈◊〉 force surprised, he thought it h● to say unto her 〈◊〉 the manner following:  
Abraham. Dear Wife, we are h●re on the Confines of ●●ypt: But yet I am afraid, lest these Souls a thousand: 〈◊〉 more ●l●ck than their Bodies, 〈◊〉 not s●me blemish o●: 〈…〉. Tell them then I pray the●, th●● thou ar●, 〈◊〉 Sister, and ●hat I 〈◊〉 ●hy Brother▪ ●o th● 〈…〉 may ●●pe by this 〈◊〉 Stratagem.  
All these for●●asts were not grounded on a vain 〈◊〉, and some erroneous Judgement; for scarce ●re these 〈◊〉 Doves of Chaldea, these two Turtles, 〈◊〉 these two chaste Lover●●●tred into Eg●pt●; but 〈◊〉 the Pr●uces of Phar●oh, who 〈◊〉 the 〈…〉 impurities, carried away the chaste Sara, 〈◊〉 brought her to Court; whi●h was a Saraglio of 〈…〉. But however courage! courage Abraham, 〈◊〉 no ways doubt but the fidelity which thy Sara 〈◊〉 ●ow'd unto thee will be proportionable to that thou rendrest unto God. Lay aside therefore now all thy fears, and thou also Sara do the like, for thy Heart is a Sanctuary of Peace, and a Temple of Love, of which God alone, and Abraham keep the Keys.  
And now let us return to Pharaoh, who was really constrained to stifle his unlawful loves in the Ocean of his miseries, and who at last restored to Abraham the flower, which had been cruelly wrested from him.   

CHAP. XIII. Giving an Account of the agreement of Abraham and Lot, upon the controversy between their Shepherds.  
Tho' Holy Abraham seemed to have some just cause to commence a suit, and to wage war against Lot for the preservation of his rights, and authority, which might receive some prejudice by the strife, which arose between his Servants, and those of Lot, their design being to become Masters, contrary to Justice and reason. Which Abraham seeing, to prevent all the disorders which might ensue on this first design, he saith unto Lot.  
Abraham. Nephew I prithee remember, that ●●therto I have not treated thee as an Uncle, but rather as a Brother; what a scandal would it be, if we should begin to live together either like Strangers, or else as Enemies? I had rather lose all the goods of the World▪ than that of thy Friendship: But I see clearly that these Shepherds and mercenary Friends, are the Person● who endeavour to engage our passions with their interests: it would then be more prudently done to sever our Flocks, than to disunite our minds, and therefore dear Nephew take what you please. of thou goest to the right hand, I will take the left: and if the left, I will pass to the right. Oh let there be no difference between thee and me, for we are brethren.  

There wealth so grows that wantonized withal,  
There envious Shepherds broach a cruel brawll.  
But lest this mischief by the Grooms begun.  
Between their Master's might. Unkindly run  
The Grave-mild Grandsire of the faithful there,  
And Ammon's Father to cut off the fear,  
Of farther Strife, and to Establish rather  
Their Minds than Bodies in a League together;  
Divided duly with a deep foresight,  
Their Flocks and Herds in number infinite:  
Then pleased and parted, both go live apart,  
The Uncle kept the Mountain for his part:  
For's Nephew Chose the Fat and Flowery Plain,  
And even to Sodom stretched his Tent and Train;  
And dwelling there became a Citizen,  
Among those monstrous nature Forcing men.   
My God These are generous, and heroic thoughts; to hear them, 
A pleasant description of the Golden Age.  I conceive myself to be in those golden Ages when men carried their hearts on their Lips, Crowns of Olive-branches on their heads, horns of plenty in their hands, their eyes in each part of their Body, and the Chains of a holy friendship as bracelets and collars of Gold; Finally where the goods of the Earth were trodden under foot as common to all men. And this caused that plenty of all things was carried every where upon a Triumphant Chariot, casting Gold and Silver to all that would but take the pains to gather it. God himself Governed the Reigns of this fortunate Chariot, and as if he had a purpose to make every man a Monarch of the Universe, he said the very same to them as to Abraham, when the love of Concord and Peace had severed him from Lot.   

CHAP. XIII. Giving an account of the Victories of Abr●ham, and the assurances which God gave him of many favours, and of a Posterity 〈◊〉 numerous as the S●nds on the Sea, and the Planet's and Stars of the Firmament.  Gen. 14. 
Abraham rescues Lot with Men and Spoils,  
●rom divers Kings whom he in Battle foils.  
Melchisede●k ●rings Abra'm Bread and Wine,  
And Abraham pays him Tenths of Corn and Wine.  
BUt now who would have believed, that Abra●ams humour, and courage▪ ●ad been of a valorous temper, when he was only seen to take Lot by the Hand, and say unto him▪ that all his goods belonged unto him, and that to avoi● War he gave the World for a Field of Peace, an● for an assured testimony, that he preferred a quiet Life before all pretensions whatsoev●r.  
Nevertheless when news was brought him, that the King of Sennay, the King of the El●mites, the ●ing of Pont●s, and he that was commonly calle● the King of Nations, were become Masters of the Field, and of the Sodomites Country, (who were his considerator▪) and that even after the taking o● Sodom, poor Lot, who fell into their Hands, wa● lead by their command into a sad captivity; at th● very same instant this p●aceable Traveller, instea● of a Staff, took Arms into his Hands, and having selected three hundred and eighteen of his bravest Servants, he went foraging the Country, and so courageously pursued his Enemies, that afterward being come to the confines of judea near the Fountains of jordan, and finding them still wholly puffed up with the success of their Victories, and loaden with their booty, he set upon them with so great courage, and dexterity, as at last he put them to a shameful rout, and gave th●m so general a defeat, that he brought back both Lot, and all his Goods, with the remainder of the spoils of all the Assyrians, who were all either dead or put to flight.  
After this defeat Melchisedeck, who was King of Salem, and also high Priest of the most high, offered Bread, and Wine, as a thanksgiving for the Victories he had gained: Afterwards he gave his benediction to Abraham, who also presented him with the tenths of his spoils and of ●is whole booty.  
The King of the Sodomites too failed not to render his duties unto this Conqueror.  
After this God made Abraham come out of his Pavilion, and then not satisfied with having promised him a Posterity numerous as the Sands of the Sea, he showed him the Heavens, with promise that the number of his Children should equal the Planets and Stars of the Firmament. Adding to him afterwards, that suddenly he should have a Son by his dear Sara, who should be the Heir of his poss●ssions, and the Ornament of his Family.  
Notwithstanding all these Assurances and promises Sara who felt herself Barre● permitted her Husband what the Law and Custom of that time allowed; and much more, for this chaste Wife humbly entreated, that Agar though a Servant, might share with her in his Bed and affections: But Agar was no sooner become a Mother, but she would be at the same time also a Mistress.  
So Agar having been disgracefully driven out of Abraham's and Sara's House, when her wand'ring heart had leisure to entertain more humble and mild thoughts; God who hath fatherly tendernesses for those who place their whole strength and Consolation in Meekness and Humility, immediately sent an Angel to her, who promised her a favourable return; and besides, gave her assurances that shortly she should have a Son, who should be called Ishmael: In effect, she conceived, and was delivered, as the Angel had said, Abraham being no less than fourscore and six years old or near upon.  
But what! was it not sufficient to have even run for the spa●e of Ninety and ●ine years, and been in a Continual journey during the whole course of his life? Was it not time to make a halt, when he saw himself near the shore, and that his life was arrived almost in the Haven?  
It imports not (saith God unto him) it is I that speak, and thou must obey: On then Abraham, pass farther, I will be a Spectator of thy Voyages, and of the Progresses thou shalt make in the way of perfection.  
Presently after, as if this fortunate and glorious Name had been the Seal of the Contract, and of the Alliance which God made with Abraham, he would render it more sensible. and add to these Ciphers of Love an Impression of Grie●, and a Charactor of Blood.  
Then was Circumcision commanded not only for Abraham, 
Commandment for Circumcision  but for all his Children▪ and Servants, and in general for all those that should be numbered amongst his Generations; provided nevertheless they were Males; for Women were exempted from the Law: Concerning the time prefixed for tho accomplishment of this precept, it was not to pass the term of Eight days; and the proposed end was no other than men's accord and peace with God.   

CHAP. XV. Giving an Account of the Charity of Abraham towards Pilgrims, and the Tenderness of God towards him.  
GOD gives himself entirely to Abraham, and Abraham hath nothing which he gives not for his sake.  
He made this evidently appear, when being in the Valley of Mambre at the opening of his Tents, about high Noon, he saw three Pilgrims tanned with the Ardours of the Sun, and tired at least in appearance with the pains and toil of their journey: for immediately this magnificent, cordial, and devout Man, who bore God and men in his heart, prevented these travellers, and his Soul which always discovered truth amidst shadows, adored the Majesty of one God hidden under the habit of these three Pilgrims. Afterwards he offered them his Table and House and not satisfied with these proffers, he treated them in words and deeds, and then to render his duties more perfect he mixed them with so much sweetness, so much cordiality, and so much reverence, that afterwards he would needs wash their feet, honouring them not only as guests, but also as Masters of his House.  
This Heavenly practice is in a word, as Solomon said, to cast one's Bread upon the torrent of Waves to receive it in eternity.  
In ●ffect, these three guests whom Abraham received into his tents with so much affection, zeal, and reverence, made a Paradise under one Pavilion; these were also Angels of Heaven, having only the shape and countenance of Men; from whence I gather, that under Ragged Garments, and a skin torn with Ulcers, and eaten up with Cankers, God and his Angels often conceal themselves; but to proceed when the crimes and execrations of So●om and Go●o●rha pressingly ca●e ● upon God's Justice, and when the blackest vapory of these horrid 〈◊〉 ascended even as high as Heaven, this most a●●●lure Judge, who makes 〈◊〉 de●●●tive decrees without dependence or counsel demeaned himself as if he dur●t ●ot do it without the advice of A●raham.  
Ah wh●t! saith he, c●n I con●●●l my designs an● thoughts from my dear Abraham, who is to b● th● Pillar, of the Worl●, and the Father of so m●ny Na●io●s? No certainly, but I m●st discharge part of my displeasure into his b●s●me, th●● he may shar● with me in my designs as well as in my contentments.  
Harken then Abraham, dost thou well understand, 〈◊〉 God, what passes? For my part I hear a confused 〈◊〉. which daily sounds louder and louder; it is surely the Voice of my Justice which requires vengeance against the inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrha, which have re●●red their Cities an Abyss of horrors and abominations. Dost thou not hear these impure Mouths, these poy●●●●us Tongues, these bewitched Hearts, these fleshy Sou●s, these Soul-less Bo●ies, an● these ungodly Men without Faith, without Law, and without Honour?  
Abraham, But what my God haste thou not Eyes whic● pierce from the highest Heaven, even into the centre of Hell? And is not the least of thy glances abl● to dissipate all the shadows of the Night. Why dost tho● t●en say ●●ou wilt descend into Sodom, and s●e in pers●n what passes before thine Eyes. But now whe● A●raham himself at last beh●ld the Lighted Torche● which were to be the Instruments of this sad Incerdium, the Sanctity and freeness of his Heart permitted him to say. ●  
Ah! What great God Could it possibly happen that thy indignation should be Blind, and that thy Thunderbolts should equally fall upon the Just and Sinners? God of Goodness canst thou behold the innocent in the midst of punishments, without some touch of Compassion? Alas Lord! Wilt thou not pardon this Criminal City, if in c●se but fifty innocent Persons be found in it; is not this a Motive powerful enough to invite thee unto Commiseration? Ah! Let it be never then said, that thy just providence, which extends itself over all the Empires of the World, hath stifled Vice and Virtue under the same Ashes.  
Is not this an innocent freedom, and capable of moving even the Bowels of God's mercy? Indeed God promised him to deliver all those that were invelaped in that ●rime, in case there were s●und not fif●y, but ten only worthy of pardon.  
But it seems the iniquity of Men is so much the more enormous, as the goodness of God is immense and admirable. And who would believe that Virtue and Piety are in such sort banished from the Earth as some good Men may not be found in it? It is then for this cause God advanced towards Sodom, to chastise their Vices, and to extinguish the lust of their Women with a Deluge of Fire.   

CHAP. XVI. Giving an Account of the firing of Sodom and Gomorrha, and the deliverance of Lot.  Gen. 19 
In wrath approaching God shows mercy here,  
Sole righteous Lot must leave his Country dear:  
Warned by two Angels which the Almighty sent,  
Thereby escapes Sodoms sad punishment.  
AND here behold the Portrait of God's Justi●e, her Sceptre hath not been seen hitherto in the Land of Sodom and Gomor●ha, but upon the Wings of a Stork, that is to say, by Clemency and Meekness. But too long have the horrors of Sodom irritated and provoked God: The night already approacheth, and there remains no day but to behold two Angels in the habit of Pilgrims, who seek out Lot even at the Gates of Sodom; observe how welcome they are, and certainly, they have met with an Heart who perfectly understands the rights of Hospitality; observe what hast he makes to them, how he casts himself at their Feet, how he conjures them to spend at least one night in his House: In fine, after some refusals and Compliments, he enforceth them by his charitable importunities to shelter themselves in his Lodging; they enter into it, and nothing but Feasts and congratulations are seen in this House. But they were no sooner risen from the Table, and preparing to take some repose, when immediately Sodomites came from a●l parts like enraged Wolves howling and trembling as if they had already felt the Agony of Death, and the Flames which were ready to devour them.  
Mean while Lot is very much afflicted; for these Cyclops of Hell are come out of a Furnace of obscurities with Hammers and Iron Bars in their Hand● to break his Gate in a thousand pieces, to destroy Fathers and Children, Masters and Servants.  
Mean while the night slips away, and from the break of day, as if the Sun should have served to enkindle the Pyle of Sodom, two Angels delegated for the preservation of Lot, taking him by the Hand with his Wife and two Daughters, constrained them to depart together out of the City, advertising them that to preserve their lives, and to enjoy the benefit they had received, they must seek out a refuge upon some high Mountain, without turning their Heads or Eyes towards the unhappy Sodom, lest some Whirlwind of Flames should chance to surprise and devour them.  
Behold then Lot much astonished: Nevertheless he conjures these amiable Spirits to afford him a retreat in a little Town not far from thence; the Angels granted all he desired, and the Village assigned him for a Sanctuary was also freed from the Flames for his sake.  
But as there is nothing weaker and more wavering than a Woman's mind, Lot had not power enough to hinder her Head, which was filled only with Wind, from moving at the sight of the first Lightnings which preceded this Storm; so in testimony of her inconstancy she was transformed into a Pillar of Salt, as if Go● intended by this exemplary punishment to leave unto over light Souls a Tragic monument of inconstancy, and a dreadful effect of Temerity.  
Mean while the ●eavens are no longer but a lively source of Flames and Fires: The Sun, Moon and Stars are so many Channels through which God pours down upon Sodom and Gomorrha all the Thunderbolts of his wrath. The Clouds are the Torrents of Thunder which makes a hideous noise which tears the Skies and carries away all without pity; nothing is seen in the Air but Flaming obscurities and ardent shadows heaped upon one another, which form a Hears-cloath to cover the shameful Relics of these loathsome Coals.  
The Earth on the other side is an enlivened gulf of burning Coals, which vomit forth so many Firebrands and Torches, as at length one would believe that the Air, the Skies, the Clouds, and the Earth were no other than a Hell. Nothing is heard there but Clamours, Sobs, Rages, Blasphemies and roar out.  
What a spectacle is it to see Men and Women with Bodies all on fire running through the Streets, their Hair flaming, their Eyes sparkling, their Mouths burning, and their Hearts filled with Sulphur? What a Monstrous Spectacle is it to behold an Infant in his Mother's bosom, and in his Nurse's Arms like a lump of Sulphur which is consumed with the flash of a Torch? Who hath ever heard that the World was watered with a rain of Sulphur, with a Deluge of Fire, and with an Inundation of burning Coals and Flames? What Thunder, what spoil, what desolation of Wood-piles, of Houses, and Furnaces? Beds, Tables, Cupboards, Gold, Iron, Marbles, and Diamonds turned into Firebrands? Alas! where are the Heaven's? Where is the Air? Where is the Sea and Earth, when the whole World is on Fire? Ah poor Lot! What is become of thy Wife, and where are thy Kindred, and what may thy Daughters think beholding the smoke of that Fire which devours the Bodies of their unfortunate Husbands.  
Me thinks I see him with his Daughters in the folds of a Mountain, where he endeavours to shelter himself from these frightful inundations, which burn and desolate all his Country. But with what grief will Abraham's chaste Heart be touched when he knows that the Daughters of Lot are consumed with an other Fire, and they enkindle such black Flames, as even hinder them from knowing their own Father, or at least from treating him with that respect which Nature and piety required?  Gen. 19 
God Sodom and Gomorra burneth quite,  
Lot and his Wife do ●ave themselves by flight.  
Yet Lot doth burn with a Flame far more wild,  
For he gets his own Daughters both with Child.  
None but Abraham remains constant in his sincerity; he is still in the same place where God spoke to him with so much tenderness and privacy.  
Faithful Friend of God, Father of all Nations, support of men, Vice-King of the Earth, Abraham, canst thou behold this dreadful fire without Sighs and Tears? Weep then Abraham, weep to quench these Flames; but rather enkindle some pile to swallow up these Monsters which infect the World by the contagious shafts of their incestuous brutalities.   

CHAP. XVII. Giving an account of the Birth of Isaac, and of the Banishment of Agar & Ishmael.  Gen. 21. 
Poor Agar's banished from Old Sara's Face,  
With Ishmael, the wildest of his Race;  
Through unknown Paths they Range, till by a Spring  
Sitting, God's Angel to them joy doth bring.  
IN fine, Heaven hath heard the vows and prayers of Abraham: Isaac is born, and Sara is so much ravished at the sight of this happy prodigy that she can hardly believe what she sees.  
What a wonder is it to see this Child of Tears and Desires become an object of a ravishing Joy. Sara art thou afraid that the life of thy Son will bring thee death, and that the excess of a joy so little expected, will even melt thy heart? For my part I already apprehend lest the pastime of Isaac and Ishmael prove the occasion of a quarrel, and that at last either the Mother or Child must be chased away: In effect, Sara could not endure the sight of Agar and Ishmael, she entreats Abraham to put both of them out of his House. But Abraham who hath the tenderness of a Father for Ishmael, cannot condescend to her desires. It seems to this good Man that the severing of Isaac and Ishmael would even cut his heart in two. There is a necessity Nevertheless of obeying the request of Sara, for God commands Abraham in this occasion to execute all his injunctions, with promise that notwithstanding all contrary appearances Isaac and Ishmael shall be the first Seeds of a most ample and happy posterity.  
What pity was it to see this poor Handmaid enter with her Son into a solitary and uninhabited Desert, and leave a plentiful House, where she had ever lived as a Mistress?  
What pity was it to see Agar and Ishmael in the deserts of Bersheba with hunger and thirst, and in a general want of all the conveniencies of Nature, will not men believe them to be as it were dead in the World, and alive in a Tomb? What hope is there amongst Stones and Rocks? What society in the midst of Woods, where nothing is heard but cries, and roar of Monsters? What succour amidst Wild places, and out of the Road of men? What light under the shades of Pits and Caverns, where the Sun dares not approach? What means of Livelihood, where all Animals are dead? Where nothing but frightful Dens are seen, but aride sands, and some old Trunk of a Tree, without Branches, Leaves; or Fruits?  
What then will Agar do, she hath no more Water nor Bread? And mean while her life, her Love and hear dear Ishmael can no longer endure the torments of hunger and thirst; he is already constrained to stay at the foot of a Tree, and there to cast forth loud cries; Distressed Mother, what will you do? What a happiness would it be for you to die first that you might not die twice? Sara what have you done? Abraham where are you? Ah God What grief is it unto a Mother to see between her Arms the Tomb of her Son?  
Ishmael hath now lost his speech, he is without hope, and Agar abandons him as no longer able to live, seeing her heart half dead before her Eyes.  
Farewell Ishmael, farewell poor Orphan, farewell all the affections and hopes of Agar.  
And when any Man shall chance to pass by this solitary place, let him engrave upon this Trunk, that here Agar and her Son found their exile, their Death, and at length their Monument.  Gen. 21. 
Why Weepest thou Hagar, 'tis not lack of Love  
To thee, or thine; J●hova from above,  
Hath so Commanded, Agar be content!  
That's Destiny, which thou deemest Punishment.  
Agar what do you say? Is this the hope you repose in God? And are these the promises he made unto Abraham? Ah! do you not know that Heaven hath Eyes always open to Innocency, and the least of Ishmaels' sighs is able to draw God into this Desert?  
In effect, when Agar was removed a flight shot, from Ishmael, as she sent forth her Cries after the Moaning of her Son, an Angel called her by her Name, and said unto her,  
Go Agar, and return to thy Son, take him by the hand, and reanimate this little dying Body. O God who will not admire thy sage Providence, and the miraculous conduct of thy Designs.  

A Dialogue between Abraham and Sara, etc.  
The Argument.  
Sarah's rebuked for Laughter and reputes,  
Admiring with her Lord the great Events  
Of Heavenly Blessings, and resolves to be  
No more in Love with Incredulity.  Abraham. 
Now now 'tis with my Sarah as our glorious Guest presaged, how then my Love, my Life, my Sole delight, how could it be that you durst doubt the great decree of Heaven, and with a smile, as at a tale Incredible, reflect upon omnipotence.  Sara. 
My Lord, I own I could not then believe what now I find true as the Eternal Oracle that speak it▪ and therefore blush with much confusion, that I gave no more belief to so much Verity.  Abra. 
Even so you ought, and with unfeigned Tears bewail the unadvized Laughter, you denied and prostrate on the Ground, implore his pardon for so great a crime.  Sar. 
That I have done long since, and learned to know I am but Dust, not worthy to dispute his will who ma●e me and the World of Nought, and with his Word is able to reduce all things to their Original.  Abra. 
'Tis well resolved, nor ever must we dare displease that Majesty under whose feet bright blazing Thunders burn. The God whose presence melts the Mountains, and whose Looks dries up the deep, who holds the winds in the hollow of his hand, and makes Creation tremble at his Word.  Sar. 
If not for fear, through Love we ought with low Submission to revere that tremendious Majesty who has done such wonders for us.  A●ra. 
Wonders indeed, and past our numbering for who can count the Endless Blessings he with plenteous hands has showered upon our heads, since first we lest Vrr of the Chaldees; nay with what favours does he Load us still.  Sar. 
'Tis true my Lord, his bounty has completely stored us with what ever we could wish to gain us high Esteem amongst the Nations of the East; so dreaded and renowned has his signal blessings rendered you that at your sight the Supple Knees of Pagans bend, and s●ep●●rd Monarches court your Smile, making your Friendship t●e 〈◊〉 h●p●s of their Ambition.  A●ra. 
Nay more, he by his power inclines the roughest Na●ions to such Mildness for our sakes, that even Abim●lech the cruelest of Men, having snatched you from my Arms, returned your unstained beauties without War, repenting the rash deed and begging my devotion.  Sar. 
Happy, even wondrous h●ppy are all they that put their ●rus● in him, who takes such care of those that love his Name; therefore O that Men would praise the Lord.  Abra. 
'Tis just they should return him with unfeigned Lips, tribute of Praise, and ever more be thankful for the many mercies they receive, nor will we or our Children be wanting in this Duty.  Sar. 
Indeed we ought not, for a thankful heart is 〈◊〉 the mighty King requires for all he gives to Mortell M●n.  Abra. 
'Tis that indeed beyond all ceremonies that can please him most, but see the Glorious Sun declyns, and Night with her Sable Mantle waits at the portals of the Eastern sky to clothe the World in Darkness; Therefore let us to our Tent, and there ere Slumber close our Eyes, pay our vows to him that is our Sovereign protector.  Sar. 
My Lord, I am all obedience, for so it still becomes a Wife to be to him whom Heaven appoints her head.  

The Application.  
Thus reader may you see a happy pair,  
Whom heavens high favours in abundance share,  
Laying all doubts aside that so they may,  
Their great Creators will in all obey,  
Which should induce us so to imitate  
Their ways, that we may reach their blessed state.    

A Dialogue between Lots two Daughters.  
The Argument.  
Lot's Daughters burn with lust and lay a Plot,  
To take incestuous Wine inspired Lot,  
The Plot takes right, and from each pregnant Womb,  
A Brother and a Son at 〈◊〉 do●s come.  First Daughter. 
How is the famous Sodom sunk with cattaracts of Fire? How dreadfully the flaming Storm on fearful Wings decended, and how narrowly we escaped the sad Destruction?  Second Daughter. 
'Tis true we escaped by Miracle, the Firey Clouds began to drop Ciconian Sulphur ere we reached the Gate, nor could we escape to Zoar ere Sodom and Gomorrha lay in Ashes.  1. Daughter. 
It grieves me much for those of our relations that we left behind, but for our Mother more whose curiosity to see her Habitation blazing turned her to a Monument to stand the gaz● of all that pass the plains.  2. Daughter. 
Our Father now is all the comfort we have left, and now are we again become exiles, and must still wander in strange Lands without any fixed abideing place.  1. Daughter. 
'Tis true, yet me thinks had we entered into Nuptial bands, and in our pregnant Wombs contained the dear pledges of Conjujal Love, it would have been the greatest comfort we can think.  2. Daughter. 
You can not more desire that happiness than I, O methinks I long to see a little smiling Boy upon my Knee! The very thoughts of such a blessing transports me.  1. Daughter. 
There is but one way seeing we are in a strange Land and Husbandless.  2d Daughter. 
And what is that? O let me hear it! My Heart leaps at the sound of such a Sentence.  1. Daughter. 
You know our Father to drive strange cares from his aged Heart, addicts himself to Wine, and we out of pretence of kindness may urge him to take excess, and in the night when horrid shades o'er casts the World, one of us may steal into his Arms, and with warm beauty charm him into youthful Vigour.  2. Daughter. 
But he's our Father and can that be Lawful. Know you not 'twas sin that sunk the flaming Cities and disobedience that reaved us of our Mother.  1. Daughter. 
But that this is sin I am not well assured, however there is a necessity of raising up posterity, or else our names will be forgotten.  2. Daughter. 
If I thought Heaven's anger would ●ot burn against us, I could joyfully comply with what ●ou say.  1. Daughter. 
Trust it for once, and see our Father with weary steps returning from the Field, no better night than what ensues to put our design in practice, the first night is mine the second shall be yours, nor will he when his Heart is merry and his senses stupefied remember that my Mother i● lost, but as we slide into his Arms think he embraces her.  2. Daughter. 
Well you shall rule me, and as you direct I'll steer my course in this loved longed for and so important business.  1. Daughter. 
Then let us haste to meet him, and bid him well-come-home.  2. Daughter. 
Go and I'll follow with as much delight as when I traced the Str●●ts of Sodom, and grew proud to hear my beauty praised by every breath above the Daughters of the Land.  

Conclusion.  
Lot in a Drunken Mood is twice defiled,  
A Father gets his Daughters both with Child.  
Their charming words and burning kisses move.  
A fire in Age, and cha●ge it with strange love.  
So in our days too often it is seen.  
Preposterous Loves have most bewitching been.     

CHAP. XVIII. The manner of Abraham's Sacrificing his Son Isaac, together with the remarkable Trial, both of his Constancy and Fidelity, with a supposed Dialogue between God and Abraham, and Abraham and Isaac.  Gen. 22. 
God Abraham commands to slay his Son,  
(To try his heart) for an Oblivion:  
He's ready to strike, but God's Angel spoke:  
Hold thy hand Abrah'm, spare thou Young Isaac.  
THe Faith of Abraham is excellently well discoursed of by an eminent Minister of Christ's, now with God, saith he.  
Abraham feared God, but was not afraid of God; his Faith was all tried, but not at all tired but he rejoiced as a strong man to run his Race; which is the more to be admired, if we consider what seeming reasonable Objections and fair Excuses Abraham might have made, when God tempted Abraham, and said,  God. 
Abraham my Servant, my Friend: where art thou? Come forth, attend to execute my Command's.  Abraham. 
Behold, here I am, speak Lord, for thy ●●●vant heareth; I am wholly at thy Command and Service, do with me and mine what seemeth thee good; if thou bid me go, and if thou bid me come I will come; whatsoev●r thou bidst me do I will do it.  God. 
Go then, saith God, take now thy Son, thine only Son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee to the L●nd of Moriah, and offer him there as a Burnt-Offering upon one of the Mountains which I t●ll thee of.  A●raham. 
To this he did not, but might have pleaded▪ Why Lord, thou art Blessed in thyself, and needest not any thing; thou desirest not Sacrifice, ●●se would I gi●e it thee; and thou ●elightest not in Burnt-Offerings: 'Tis true Lord, thy Sacrifices are a broken an● a contri●e Spirit, and that I will willingly offer; ●o not despise bu● accept thereof.  God. 
But saith God, Offer thy Son.  Ab●●ham. 
L●rd 〈◊〉 thou wilt have an Offering, all my ●●rds and Flocks ●re at thy Service: Beh●ld (as long 〈◊〉 th●s Ar●u●ah s●id to Davi●) here ar● Oxen for ●●rnt Sacrifices, an● 〈◊〉 Instruments▪ and other instruments for Woo●: all th●se things will I give unto 〈◊〉 King, and the Lo●● m● G●● accept it.  Go●. 
N● s●●th God. I w●●l t●ke no Bullock out 〈◊〉 thine H●use, nor 〈◊〉- ●●●ats out of thy Flock; 〈◊〉 ●very Bea●t of the Forest is mine, and the Cattles o● a thousand Hi●●s▪ 〈…〉 all the Fowls of 〈◊〉 Mountains and the Wil● Beast's of the Fields are 〈◊〉: If ● were an hungry I would not tell thee for 〈◊〉 World is mine, an● the ●ulness thereof: Will I eat the Flesh of Bulls, or drink the Blood of Goats? No Abraham, no, but offer thy Son.  Abraham. 
Lord, it's true, thou art above these things, and he that offers thee Praise, honours thee; and therefore thou callest upon us to offer unto God Thanksgiving, and to pay our Vows to the most high; and Lord I am willing to pay my Vows in the great Congregation; accept of my thanks, and I will tha● thee the more; receive these Vows as part of the 〈◊〉 and I will vow and pay thee more.  God. 
No, saith God, nothing but thy Son, offer Abraham, offer thy Son.  Abraham. 
Lord if thou wilt have the Flesh of Man to be Sacrificed, and his Blood to be poured out, then take one of 〈◊〉 Servants: Do not call my sins to remembrance and slay my Son; Good Lord spare my Son.  God. 
No, saith God, offer up thy Son.  Abraham. 
Lord if thou wilt have a Son▪ take Is●mael; spare mine Isaac, Lord spare mine Isaac.  God. 
No, saith God, take thy Son, even Isaac.  Abraham. 
Lord he is my only Son; he hath not a Brother, nor are there any more in Sarah 's Womb: Lord I beg only this, spare mine only Son.  God. 
No, saith God, take thine only Son.  Abraham. 
Why Lord, I have had him but a little while; if thou wilt take him, yet good Lord let mine Isaac and I rejoice together yet a while.  God. 
No, saith God, take him now.  Abraham. 
But ah Lord I love him, and so to take Isaac, is to take my Life, which is bound up in th● Life of the Lad; and if thou take him away, thou wilt bring down my Grey Hairs with sorrow to the Grave.  God. 
Well, said God, I know thou lovest him, but must not you love me better: Offer up this Son, this only Son Isaac whom thou lovest.  Abraham. 
But Lord, though thou art righteous, when I plead with thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy judgements▪ what will the wicked say, w●en they shall hear ●hat thou delightest in Blood, and that thy Servants must offer their Children to the Lord; who will serve thee at ●his rate?  God. 
Well, but, saith God, is not all the Earth mine own, and may not I do with mine own what I please; I that give may take: and therefore mind not you what the World will say, but what I say; and I say offer thy Son.  Abraham. 
But Lord hast thou not commanded me to do ●o Murder, and must I now imbrue my Hands in Blood ●nd in mine own Blood too: Oh happ● me, might my Blood ●o for his: Oh! Isaac, Isaac, my Son Isaac; my ●on, my Son, would to Go● I might die for thee: Oh! isaack, my Son, my Son. Lord how can this stand with ●he Law that thou hast given me?  God. 
Abraham, saith▪ God, such things are not first ●●st, and then willed by me; but willed by me, and ●●erefore just. A●raham, Do not you know that I ●an repeal or make exceptions? 'Tis I that say it▪ ●h●refore do it: Who is this that darkeneth counsel ●y words without knowledge? Gird up now thy ●oins like a Man; s●ite him, kill him? Have not I commanded thee? be courageous, and a Son of va●our: Go offer thy Son.  Abraham. 
But goo● Lord, thou hast made this ex●●ption when thou di●st show Man what was good and ●●asing in thine Eyes; thou wouldst not ●ha● he shoul●●ive his firstborn for his Transgression, ●or the fruit of ●is Body for the sin of his Soul▪ but to do justly, an● to ●●ve Mercy, and to walk humbl● with his God: To ●bey (thou sa●st it) is better than Sacrifice, and to harken than the sat of Lambs.  God. 
Well then, saith God, harken an● o●ey: ●●is is to do Justice, this is (oh wonder) to show Mer●●, this is to walk humbly with thy God.  A braham. 
Seeing I have taken upon me to speak unto 〈◊〉 Lord, I will yet say: Lord he is the Son of the Pro●ise, in whom thou hast said, that all the Nations of the Earth shall be blessed: Now Lord if he die, an● die a Child without Children; where is then the blessed●ness thou speakest of: what will become of the Blessing?  God. 
Well Abraham, saith God▪ perform what ● command, and I will perform what I promise: what will Abraham, who was once not weak in Faith, an● considered not his own Body, nor Sara's, when twic● dead, who staggered not through unbelief at m● Promise, but was strong in Faith, and gave me Glo●ry; who was fully persuaded that what I promise● I was able to perform, an● was not disappointed o● his Hope, though against Hope: Will this Abraha● now call me in question? Hast thou known my Name●punc; and wilt thou not trust in me? Am not I the Lor● which change not? Have I said it is, and shall it no● come to pass? Is there any thing too hard for God▪ Am not I able even of Stones to raise up Children unto Abraham? Cannot I say to dry Bones Live, tho● hast received him from the Dead in a Figure; an● were Isaac in the Grave, could not I, who am the Resurrection from the Dead, say, Isaac come forth arise and walk, that thy Father may receive th●● with double joy; saying, Isaac my Son, who wa● dead, yea, who was twice dead, is now alive? Therefore Abraham offer thy Son.  Abraham. 
My dear Lord, seeing I who am but Du●● and Ashes, have taken upon me to speak unto thee, O● let not my Lord be angry if I speak once more: If I ma● not prevail (oh that I might prevail) to save Isaac ●●live; yet let me entreat th●● that I may not be the Pries● let not mine hand be upon him: Can I see the death 〈◊〉 the Child? Good Lord let som● other do it: Surely ● cannot lif● up my Hand, or if I do, shall I not wish 〈◊〉 may wither, or be turned into a stone? Will not these Eyes run down with Rivers of Tears? Ah Lord! I ca● speak no more; my heart will break, my hand will sh●k● send by whom thou wilt send, but let not me, Oh let 〈◊〉 m● go.  God. 
Yes Abraham, thou, take him thou, and go thou, and offer him thou, none but thou.  Abraham. 
Ah Lord! Yet once more, but this once more and I have done. I am old and full of days, past Travail; spare me a little, let me not go so far as the Land of Moria; let it (if it must be done) be done at home.  God. 
No Abraham, Take now thy Son, thine on●y Son Isaac, whom thou lovest, get thee into the Land of Moria, and offer him there, no where but there.  
He is then all alone upon the way with his Son ●nd his two Servants, and he advanceth directly to Mount Moria as to the appointed place.  
My dear Reader, I leave unto thy imagination what pa●●ed for the space of three days this journey ●●sted; represent unto thyself, I beseech thee, ●hat thou art with him, whom thou dost love above ●ll men, thou seest him, thou speakest to him, thou drinkest to him, and sleepest with him, how will it ●e if at thy departure thou must see him die? And ●f thou thyself must present him the Poison which 〈◊〉 to stifle him? Husbands and Wives, Fathers and M●thers, Brothers, Kindred, A ●ociats, Friends, what Torments? What despairs? What punishments? When you stand at the Beds Feet, where ●ou shall behold your dearest affections, and your ●ost pleasing delights in the Agony of Death, what combats, 
Duel of Grief and Love.  and what Duels ●f Love, and Grief? What strength and ●esolutions to receive the last wor●s and ●●ghs of a dying Mouth, to whi●h a thou●●nd and a thousand chaste kisses have been given, ●●d whose least breath was able to wipe aw●y all ●orts of sorrows? What Prodigy of constancy to ●ose with your Hands two Eyes which served as 〈◊〉 in the saddest obscurities of Life, which is but ●o much intermingled with mourning and pleasure? In fine, how can we see with out dying, an● other self at the point of death?  
Nevertheless, this was but th● image of a dying life, 
Martyrdom for three days.  which Abraha● led for the space of three days; on● would swear that God had undertaken to make him die ten thousand times upon thi● sad way; every glance of Isaac was a mortal Jave●lin, which pierced his Heart, and yet he must hav● him three times four an●●wenty hours before hi● Eyes▪ there was a necessity of eating, drinking▪ and speaking with him: were not these entertainments, and Feast of Death? He was constrain during the night to lay on his Breast, and in his Bo●som, that Head he was to cut off with his ow● Hands: was not this a murdering sleep and a crue● repose? In sine, he must render all the duties of ● Father to so amiable a Son, before he was to be hi● Executioner, and he must needs hear almost ever● moment the voice of Isaac calling him Father, wh● went to m●rther him.  
My God What Preludes of death? What prepar●●tion to a Martyrdom, what Dialogue of Passions? Wh●● affections, what dissimulations, what sorrows, wh●● pleasures, what hopes, and what despairs? A Fat●e● a Son, a Priest, a Victim, Wood, Fire, a Swor● I●aacks Eyes and Heart are fixed on his Father, a●● Abraham lost not the sight of Isaac but to behold b● God. At every step this poor old Man sends a sigh 〈◊〉 Heaven to evaporate grief, which being shut up redo●●bl●s the mor●.  
Surely my Heart even bleeds upon the ba●● thought of this pitiful object. Alas! How cou●● Ab●aham look on the criminal Sword which was 〈◊〉 give the stro●k? Where did he carry this instrument of God's Justi●e? Me thinks I hear Isaac▪ every step saying, My Father: and Abrah●● answering Son, take courage, let us go my de●● Child, we draw near to Moria.  
O God what vision and what approaches? Mountain of Moria hast thou no compassion, will not thy Tops, thy Rocks, and thy Stones mollify rigours, at the fight of ●o tragic an act, and which ●eems so unnatural? Mountain of Moria become thou a plain rather than put this poor old Man, and this young Child to the trouble of ascending thy Top, where they are going to erect an Altar, and hew a Tomb.  
But what! Nature cannot be sensible when her God deprives her of feeling, and Moria must not have greater tenderne●●es than the Heart of Abraham.  
Let Abraham then perform resolutely the Office of God the Father, and l●t not Isaac be ashamed with his own Blood, to mark out the way unto jesus, (of whom he was an Image and Figure) Let Abraham take his Sword to strike off isaack's Head, and let Isaac take the Wood on his Shoulders which was provided to consume him.  

A Dialogue between Abraham and Isaac.  
The Argument.  
Abraham long struggling with himself at l●st,  
His bound dear Isaac on the Altar placed,  
Acquaints him with God's pleasure, nor denies  
The Lad to be a willi●● Sacrifice;  
But the drea● stroke is by an Angel stayed,  
When in his stead▪ a Rain's an Offering made.  Abraham. 
In Isaac must my Seed be called, and yet here must he die; strange thoughts perplex me, yet I must o●ey the will of him that gave me Being, and with relentless hand destroy the Son of my desire; but God will have it so, and 'tis not ●or ●rail man to dispute his great Commands.  Isaac. 
What means my Father by thus talking to himself! O how his Countenance does often change▪ What cause can cause this mighty struggling in the Breast of Abraham, Father, dear Father speak, say what's the reason of this sudden Alteration: Where is the Sacrifice? You told me God would provide himself, is it through disappointment that you grieve? Nay Sir, why turn you from me, as displeased with him, you often called your joy, with him you use to dandle on your Lap, and seem well pleased, delighting in his Innocent discourse, smiling at the pretty pastime, and informing him that Kings and Princes should arise in his posterity.  Abra. 
O me! What shall I do, heavens high command on one hand urgest and on the other Nature pleads, telling me Isaac is my Son, my unoffending Child, m● Ages Sole delight, in whom alone I promised myself such store of true felicity.  Isaac. 
Nay Father, Father, speak to me, and tell me what 'tis grieves you thus: What makes these Winter Clouds sit on your Brow? Why that M●p of Sorrow in your Face?  Abra. 
O my Child, it is a dreadful cause, thou the Sole comfort of my Age, must here be made a Sacrifice, my dear, dear, much loved Isaac, must become the sport of Crackling Flames, and have his Ashes scattered in the W●n●.  Isaac. 
How must I die? O me! what have I done: Tell me, tell me, dear Father, have I conspired your Death, betrayed you to your Enemies, or with vile Slander spotted your Immortal Fame. Will you not speak? Why does my Father thus severely turn away his Eyes, and with a fatal Knife threaten the Life of his poor helpless Son. O tell me, tell me but my Crime, that I may die contented!  Abra. 
Alas! there is no Crime in thee my Son: 'Tis God's command that urges what I here intent, the Great immense Creator of the World, desires thee as a sweet smelling Savour to his Nostrils, that he free thee from ●he miseries to come, and take thee to himself.  Isaac. 
And is it Gods decree that I must bleed? Then welcome Death. O Father fear not then to ●ake my Life contentedly, I'll Bleed to be with him ●hat gave me being.  Abra. 
O wretched Father, that I am, I now must do a deed at which the World will blush, and all those tremble who see no farther than ●rail Nature's Eyes ●ermit; but as for me, the Eye of Faith gives me a prospect of much Glory in't, and that God's promise, that in Isaac shall my Seed be called, will never fail; for though my Son expire now by my Hand, yet God can ●aise him soon to Life again, and Recollect his scattered dust, though driven into e●ery Wind.  Isaac. 
Why does great Abraham pause thus? Strike, Strike, my Father; see my willing Throat's prepared to meet the stroke; Heavens Anger will kindle at this cold delay, and Burn like a Consuming ●ire.  Abra. 
O Man me Faith! whilst thus with averted Eyes, I strike the fatal stroke, that penetrates my heart; mean while that wretched Isaac Bleeds, and wounds my Soul more deep than this destructive Steel c●n pierce. Yet God the mighty God of Abraham, must, must, be statisfied in isaack's death; and thus I prove my Faith. Ah! why falters my trembling hand? What whirlwind's this that thus disturbs the Air? What Cloud▪ involving dazzling brightness is it that descends? What power invisible restrains me from performing that which Heavens all glorious King Commands.  Angel. 
Abraham, Abraham.  Abra. 
How's this? A voice in Thunder too: O dreadful! what amazement seizes me, and yet I'll Answer it? Lord, here am I, thy Trembling Servant speaks.  Angel. 
Abraham, Abraham, lay not thy Hand upon the Lad, neither do thou any thing unto him; for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy only Son from him.  Abra. 
O Wonderful! O Goodness all Divine! God, mighty, infinite, Omnipotent, and ever with sincerest hearts to be Adored. How, How, shall I express myself in praising as I ought; a Majesty Tremendious, that still beams his Loving Kindness on unworthy me. See, see my Son, thy Life is safe, Heaven will not let thee die.  Isaac. 
Heaven's will be done; If the Almighty, the All-glorious King command my ●reath without a murmur, I'll resign what his Bounty lent me to Improve for him.  Abra. 
'Tis well resolved my Son, but see a Sacrifice prepared; who in thy stead shall Bleed? A Sacrifice our God has for himself provided; so in the days to come, the Blessed Messia bleeding for lost Man, shall purge his Sins and once more render frail● Mortality the favourite of Heaven.  

The Conclusion.  

The Ram is by Glad Abraham slain, and made  
A Sacrifice, that pleases well his God;  
Which done, with Isaac he returns to tell,  
Unthinking Sarah all that had befell;  
And has his Faith imputed Righteousness,  
Called Friend of God, the chief in Faithfulness.   
Now Abraham is already at the foot of the Mountain, he commands his Servants away, he takes his only Isaac, he loads him with the Instruments of his punishment. Let us go my dear Child, let us go my Son, let us go my Isaac, my Joy, my Hope and my Love.  
Father whither do we go, answered Isaac? Alas what is your desire? I indeed see the Fire and the Sword which you carry, as also the Wood on my Shoulders, but where is the Victim, which must be offered as an Holocaust? My Son trouble not yourself; for God will provide one.  
So Abraham still persists in his fidelity to God, he makes ready the Altar, he sets the Wood in order, he kindles the Fire, he draws his Sword out of the Scabbard, he takes Isaac into his Arms, he placeth him near the pile, he ties his Hands, and puts the cover over his forehead; in sine, this innocent Lamb being on both his Knees, his Body half naked, and his Head bowed a little forward sighing sweetly without making the least complaint, or demanding any more why, expected the stroke of Death, when his Father (as it is very probable) began to acquaint him with the secret of his happy lot.  
Isaac my most dear Son, thou didst ask me at the foot of the Mountain, where was the Victim of our Sacrifice. I answered thee, that God woul● provide one; his Paternal Goodness hath done it, and his will i● that thou must be the Victim, and I the Priest: it is very true, that thou art the object of my sweetest hopes, and that I should look on thee as the support of my ●ouse; but it is in God we must place our only hope; it is he that serves for a Basis and Pillar to all fortunes, and it is his sage Providence, which holds in its hands good and evil, favours and disgraces, Life and Death. Dye then cheerfully my dear Child, and rest assured that I would willingly put myself in thy place, if God had so ordained. I adore his will, and I am too happy to serve as an instrument unto his commands? As for thee my poor Son, I had very constant proofs of thy sweet disposition, and if I had not often tried how obedient and pliable thou art unto God's will and mine, I should endeavour more efficaciously to persuade thee; but it would be fruitless, and it is from God's goodness and thy constancy I hope for the Grace of being enabled to offer and immolate thee with my own Hands.  
What can Isaac say to this? It is enough for him to assent and be silent; I yet frame in my imagination, that he besought his Father to give him his Sword, that he might kiss it as the rod of the wise Providence of Heaven. I believe also he bowed down his Head a little more forward to testify that his thoughts accorded with his Heart, and that his most real affections were ready to be immolated unto God and his Father.  
In the mean while Abraham takes his Sword again into his Hand, and having bathed it with his tears, he lifts up his arm to discharge his blow upon the Neck of his Son.  
But what will be the issue, will not all the Angels of Heaven who look upon this Sacrifice put some Victim, in isaack's place? Divine Spirits, I call on you for Abraham and Isaac.  
In conclusion, as Abraham had already lifted up his Arm, and was ready to dart the Thunderbolt God had put into his Hand, the Voice of an Angel cries out, Abraham, Abraham, I command thee from God not to touch the Child, and to pass no farther.  

Ah Lord, never was Love like thine;  
And thy Love O God to me  
Surpasseth that of Abraham to thee.  
The word is out, poor Abraham must be gone,  
Must take his Isaac, take his only Son:  
The Son of his affections; him from whom,  
From whose blessed Loins so many Kings must come:  
Even him must Abraham slay; Abraham must rise▪  
And offer Isaac a Burnt-Sacrifice.  
God scorns the offals of our saint desires;  
He gives the best, and he the best requires.  
Abraham forbears to question, thinks not good,  
To reason or converse with Flesh and Blood.  
Begs not young Isaack's Life, nor goes about  
T'object the Law of Murder, makes no doubt.  
He riseth, rises early, leads his Son,  
Hastes where this Holy slaughter must be done:  
When God bids go, that very Breathes a Warrant;  
We must not linger, for haste crowns the Errand:  
His Servants must no further, they must stay;  
Private Devotions claim a private way.  
They must abide with th' Asses, whilst th' aged Sir●  
In one Hand takes the Knife, in th' other Fire.  
The sacred Wood of offering must be piled  
On the young shoulders of the innocent Child.  
Oh here mine Eyes must spend a Tear to see  
Thee bear the Wood, great God, that since bore thee:  
Mistrustless Isaac, seeing the Wood, the Fire,  
The sacrificing Knife, begins to inquire:  
But where's the Sacred Lamb that must be slain?  
Resolved Abraham, lest the Flesh should gain  
Too much on Nature; says, Not thou my Son  
Art he: But th' Almighty will provide us one.  
Where God commands, 'tis not enough to effect,  
But we must balk the occasion of neglect.  
The Faithful Abraham now erects an Altar,  
Order the Wood; what Tongue can choose but faltes  
To tell the rest? He lays his Hand upon  
His innocent Isaac, binds his only Son:  
He lays him down, raiseth his Priestly Knife;  
Up rears his Arm to take his Isaack's Life.  
True Faith is active, cove●s to proceed,  
From thought to action, and from will to deed.  
Before the strengthened stroke had time to fall,  
A sudden voice from Heaven cries hold, recall  
Thy threatening Arm, and sheathe thy Holy Knife,  
Thy Faith hath answered for thy Isaack's Life.  
Touch not the Child, thy Faith is throughly shown,  
That has not spared thine own, thine only Son.  
How easy is our God, and Labour, who  
Counts it as done, what we have will to do.      

CHAP. XIX. Giving an Account of the Death of Sara.  
THe most smiling prosperities often swim amidst Tears; the clearest and most serene days are followed sometimes by the most obscurest & dusky Nights: Bodies for Companions have their own shadows, Roses are mixed with Thorns, and even the Life of Man never ends but in Death. To see Abraham, Sara, and Isaac, after their deliverance, and the trial's God had of their fidelity, would not one have believed them almost immortal and exempted from all the miseries of Life? And yet scarce were they returned to their own home, but Abraham and Isaac met with a new occasion of grief for the Death of Sara. But so it is, the strictest unions must break, the sincerest friendships must have an end, and even Marriage's themselves of which God was the sacred knot, must at length make a Tragic Divorce upon a Bed which is the most common Theatre of the blind furies of Death.  
We ought to confess nevertheless that it is a spectacle able to excite the constancy of a good Courage, when we shall behold this unmerciful Murderess which snacheth away Daughters out of their Mother's Bosoms, and Sons in the sight of their Fathers, and Wives between the Arms of their Husbands.  
In such a case, if Nature had not some tenderness, she would be unnatural, and we must have Hearts of Marble not to be touched with some sense of grief and pity: Abraham had then just cause to testify by his tears, the regret he had for his dear Sara's Death; and surely since he lost so rare a blessing, well might he disconsolately bewail it.  
This mourning was not yet unblamable, and he was very careful not to do like those, who bury all their affections in the preparation of a Funeral pomp, and who have but a shadowed mien, or else not being able sufficiently to disguise their looks, strive to hide under the Veils and shadows of a Bed or dark Chamber, the shame of their insensibility.  
Abraham shed more tears from his Heart, than by his Eyes, and in rendering all duties to Nature and his Wife, he most amply satisfied God, and his own piety: while he was a Pilgrim and stranger in the Land of Canaan, Sara being Dead in the City of Hebron, he went directly into the place where his Wife's Body reposed.  
There he offered up his Prayers unto God, and kissed a thousand times those amiable relics, watering them from time to time with his tears.  
He presently entreated Ephron to sell him a double Cave which was close by the vale of Mambre to inter Sara in that place.  
Ephron is willing to grant what he asketh; but being at last as it were enforced to take a sum of Money for the purchase of his Land, Abraham became Master of the Field and Groat in which he laid the Body of his dear moiety.  
It is in this monument where the most generous Woman of her time reposeth; and under this Rock of Diamond will be found a Diamantine Heart in the Body of Sara, who was a perfect pattern of Constancy and Fidelity.   

CHAP. XX. Giving an account of the Marriage of Isaac with Rebecca, and the Death of Abraham.  Gen. 24. 
The fair and chaste Rebecca comes to draw,  
At a Well-Water, where a Man she saw,  
Who gifts to her in isaack's Name presents,  
Which she accepts, and to Wed him consents.  
THis poor Man Abraham was in the Hands of God and Providence, as a feather in the Air, which serves for sport unto the Winds, and as a Planet in the Heavens, which never rests, or as a Wheel in the Water, which is always turning and in a continual motion: God led him out of Chaldea, Mesopotamia, Canaan and Egypt; from thence he causeth him to return unto the Canaanites, where he stays for some time in the City of Sichem, sometime in that of Hebron, afterwards in ●erara, and then in Bersheba, and again in Hebron, as if he could not live but in Travelling, during whose Voyages Heaven is pleased to afford him a thousand Combats, and as many occasions of Victory.  
In fine, after the deliverance of his Son, and the death of his Wife, he feeling himself wholly broken with old age, and upon the point of following the happy lot of Sara, resolved to seek a Wife for Isaac, and for that end he calls one of the most Faithful Servants of his House called Eliezer, and having commanded him to lay his Hand under his Thigh, he conjured him by the name of God to seek a match for his Son in the Land of Haram.  
Which being done, this wise Ambassador chosen amongst the Domestics of Abraham, began his journey to execute the designs and Commission of his Master, and departing from Bersheba he went directly to Mesopotamia carrying with him ten large Camels loaden with the rarest and most magnificent presents which were in Abraham's House.  
Behold him then in the City of Nachor meditating with himself upon all the readiest and most facile means to expedite what had been given him in charge. What will he do?  
First he departs out of the City and repairing where Women in their turns were wont to draw Water, he there rest his Camels, expecting until Heaven should offer the opportunity he desired.  
During this expectation he offered up his prayers unto God, saying▪ Lord God of Abraham, cast I beseech thee some propitious and favourable looks upon the designs of my Master.  

This Faithful Servant will not feed until,  
He do his trust reposing Masters will.  
There's many now that will not Eat before  
They speed their Master's Work, they'll drink the more.   
Great God take pity of Abrah●m thy Faithful Servant, it is by his appointment I am in these territories, I expect here but the hour when the Maid shall come to draw Water out of this Fountain; i● then, My God, thou dost give me this advice, I resolve no entreat the first which shall approach it▪ to afford me some Water to drink, if she grant me this favour, by this sign I shall presently believe▪ that it is doubtless she, whom thy holy Providence hath appointed for isaack's Spouse.  
Scarce had Eliezer ended his Coloquie, when a Mal● called Rebecca appeared, fair and chaste as the Day▪ who carried under her Arm an Earthen Pitcher to take up Water, Eliezer presented himself, humbly beseeching her to afford him some drink, to which Rebecca presently assented performing all that Courtesy and Charity required.  
The holy Scripture observes, that Eliezer very seriously contemplated all the actions of Rebecca, as being a Mirror, in which he was to discern the marks of Gods conduct concerning Abraham and Isaac.  
In fine, this prudent Man chose a fit time to present unto Rebecca some Earrings and Bracelets. Afterwards he informed himself of the conveniencies which were in the House of his Maids Parents who spoke unto him. Being then well instructed concerning the alliances of Rebecca, and what was in her House, seeing also that all corresponded with his desires, he threw himself on the ground to render thanks unto his God, and to adore his ineffable goodness towards Abraham.  
Mean while Rebecca hastens to her Parents to bring them the first news of what had passed, whereof her Brother whose name was Laban, having taken notice, he went presently unto the Well from whence Rebecca came.  
Finding Eliezer, he most affectionately entreated him to visit his Father's House, and having conducted him thither, he immediately gave Hay and Straw to his Camels, afterwards he washed his Feet, as also the Feet of those who came with him. Then Eliezer took occasion to publish the Commission which had been given him, and the artifices he had used to bring them to a Head, and to understand whether it were the will of God that Rebecca should be isaack's Wife.  
Eliezer could not doubt it, and Rebecca but too much testified by her silence that her desires consented thereunto. Bathuel and Laban were also of this opinion, and therefore they were to dispose themselves to the commands of God.  
The promise then of Marriage being given on both sides; Eliezer made presents to Rebecca and her Brethren; after this there was nothing but Feasts and adieus to the Kindred of this new promise; briefly some Days must be spent in rendering those duties which Honour and Nature required.  
At last Rebecca took leave of her Mother and Brethren, she with Eliezer and his Servants got up upon Camels, and they advanced with the best diligence they could to arrive at A●rahams House.  
Isaac, who was always in expectation, first received the news of Rebecca's arrival. I leave to your thoughts what joy, what Kisses, and what Embraces. However it were, Rebecca is brought into the same apartment which Sara had w●ile she lived, and immediately the Marriage of Isaac with Rebecca was accomplished according to the Ordinances of Heaven, and the desires of Abraham, who after this Marriage took a Wife called Ketura, by whom he had six Children, who served to carry their Father's Name and Blood through numerous Generations.  
But here by the way we may suppose Isaac to Salute Rebecca upon her first Arrival, after the following manner, viz.  

A Dialogue between Isaac and Rebecca upon their first meeting.  Isaac. 
Welcome, welcome to my happy Arms▪ so made by this Embrace, my joy, my life, my love, my better part, how Gracious is the God of Abraham, in sending Isaac such a treasure.  Rebecca. 
Alas my Lord! you make me blush to see you transported at this rate, for one not worthy of Great Abraham's Son; some Queen with Kingdoms to her dow● had been more suitable than I  Isa. 
Not all the Queens the Eastern Countries yield, could have been half so welcome to my Arms as my dear joy, my much loved and much admired Rebecca. O thou Phoenix of the World, let not so mean a thought enter thy Breast, as to conceive thine Isaac can esteem the Glittering honours black Ambition brings, or all the Glories that attend on pompous Majesty, comparable to the warm joys of Love, that fire his Heart when his Rebecca smiles.  Reb. 
Alas! Alas! I blush to death, if you proceed at this rate, all I can afford you, indeed is Love, and that shall ne'er be wanting; my Arms shall still be open to receive you, and my Breast s●are your Cares, to do your will next his that made us, shall be the height of my Endeavours, never daring to dispute what you my Lord Command.  Isa. 
This Humility makes thee more lovely in my Eye than beauteous Morn, or Earth when decked with her ImbroideredLivery, Innameld with ten-thousand different Fragrancies.  Reb. 
O you value me at too high a rate, and I must make it the future business of myself to deserve such an Esteem.  Isa. 
Esteem, Why words can ne'er express the boundless love my Soul conceives, thy Name was pleasant and transporting to my Ravished Ear, ere I beheld thy pleasant Face, adorned with so much dazzling brightness that I scarce conceive myself on Earth: So soft, so kind, so charming, and so beauteous a Treasure, Sceptered Monarches would be proud to gain, and count themselves in the possessions happier than to command the Knees of supple Nations, when their wasteful Sword had brought the World into subjection.  Reb. 
O you overvalue me at such a rate, that you'll make me more indebted to your tender Love, than all the Service of my life can pay.  Isa. 
My Tongue cannot express thy worth, nor tell the Limits of my Love; No more then, but le's to our Bridal Chamber, that my Actions may supply my Tongue's defect, and there transported on thy dear Bosom in soft Murmurs, breathe my passion forth till thy blessed Womb grows pregnant with the Issue of our Loves, and thou become the soft kind Mother of a hundred Princes.  Reb. 
My Lord I'm all obedience, what your will's my Law, as now entirely yours to be disposed of at your pleasure.  Isa. 
Then thus we go a Heaven united pair,  
To Reap the joys that past expressions are;  
From our chaste Loves, let all a pattern take,  
Which must the Sons of Men thrice happy make;  
And be a means to lift their Soul● above  
The World, where all is Joy and sacred Love.  
But to proceed amongst all the Children of Abraham, Isaac is the Master of the House, and Heir to all the possessions of Abraham.  
I leave men to think as they please in what Ocean of delights Abraham's Heart did Swim, seeing all the Graces wherewith God had filled him, I am astonished why he died not a thousand times for Joy at the sight of Isaac and his dear Wife, who had no affections but for God, for him, and for the general good of his family.  
But Abraham must render unto Nature the ordinary tribute due unto her. 
Abraham's Death.  This happy old Man, this Father of all the faithful, this King of Nations, this incompareable Patriarch▪ having lived like a Pilgrim upon Earth was obliged at l●st to arrive at the Haven, and to die in the Arms of Isaac and Ishmael, who buried him in the sa●e place where his Wife was intered.  

When Natures health in Abraham was spent,  
Death doth distrain his Life for Adam's rent.  
His Sons do leave their Father's Corpse in Grave,  
Under an Oak where stands a double Cave.     

CHAP. XXI. Giving an account of the Birth of Jacob and Esau.  
AT the earnest request of Isaac Heaven was obliged to grant that at last, which a long time before God had promised him; and in conclusion therefore, behold Rebecca great with Child and ready to lie down. But as the pleasures of the World are not durable, so she quickly feels the approaches of her labour; They are no other than pains and throws, and her Womb seemed to be a thick Cloud of Thunders, and a Field of Battle, in which two little Children begin an intestine War against each other, which cannot end but by the Destruction of the Mother, or the death of her Children.  
However it were, she consulted God; and God answered her, that she bore too Nations in her Womb, and that two People should issue forth of her Bowels, one of which should Triumph over the other, and the Elder be slave unto the Younger; And jacob though the Younger, supplanted Esau who was his Elder Brother.  
For this reason jacob received his name; for as his Elder Brother was styled Esau because his whole Body was covered with rough Hair; so jacob was called jacob, because at the issuing forth of his Mother's Womb he h●ld Esau by the sole of his Foot, to testify that he would supplant him?  
Is not this an early beginning to War with each other, since in their Mother's Womb they began the intestine Duel?  
But what ever happens, jacob shall be vanquisher; for Heaven is on his side, and the supplanting of Esau shall rather proceed from the Hand of God than that of jacob.  
But alas! What strife? What Victory? What triumphs? When the Crowns we gain are but Roses stained with Blood, and Laurels which whither in a moment, and transform themselves into eternal Thorns.  
It is not for this prize jacob sought in his Mother's Womb, but he assaults and supplants Esau for the purchase of Immortal Crowns.   

CHAP. XXII. Giving an account of the Education of Esau and Jacob, and the shameful sale he made of h●s Birthright.  Gen. 25. 
The twin-born Brothers are of different minds,  
Jacob loves cattle, Esau pleasure fin●s  
In hunting, whence returning home be doth  
Sell his Birthright to Jacob for Red-●roath.  
WE need not be over much versed in Physiognomy, to fo●●t●ll what Esau would prove; for in hi● Birth he gave so many evident signs, as we cannot be ignorant of his future inclinations. His Body Hairy like a Bear, could not be animated but by the Soul of a Beast.  
jacob on the contrary had only the qualities of a Dove, and his Heart had less Gall than a Lamb. He went scarce ever out of the House, and showed so much simplicity, sweetness, and moderation, as but to see him a Man was constrained to love him.  
Notwithstanding Isaac had more violent inclinations towards his Eldest Son: And this Love was only grounded upon Esau's constant custom in bringing him every Day some piece of Venison.  
However it were, the Liberty Isaac gave to Esau of running all the day long through Woods and Forests, was the occasion which brought him to his first misfortune: For this poor Chaser coming one day weary and Hungry from hunting, and meeting with jacob who had c●used some Pulse to be sod, he entreated him to give him a share of it; to which jacob willingly agreeded, upon Condition he would yield up to him his right of Primogeniture.  
Alas! ● die for very hu●●er answered Esau, what will this Right avail thee after my death? if it be so replied jacob, take an Oath that thou wilt give it me; Well, in truth than I swear it (saith Esau) and I acknowledge thee in quality of my Elder Brother: whereupon this poor wretch took immediately Bread and Pulse from his Brothers' Hand, little valuing the loss he had made of the first advantage wherewith God and Nature had ●●voured him.   

CHAP. XXIII. Giving an Account of the Dexterity of Rebecca to procure for Jacob the blessing of Isaac.  Gen. 27. 
Isaac Dim-sighted, Jacob takes to be  
Esau, deceived through his mind's jealousy;  
Jacob the Blessing gets, Esau returns  
And marks the Cheat for which he Grieves and Mourns.  
ISaack waxing old amidst many misfortunes, insensibly felt the approaches of Death, and as if his ●yes abhorred to serve as witnesses to the disasters of his old age, they covered themselves with the Darkness of a lamentable Blindness.  
Amongst these Accidents his Eyes being shut against all the Claritie● of Life, his Soul went penetrating the shade and Night of the Tomb. He calls Esau, and says to him with a pitiful Tone, Alas my Son! I am upon the Brink of my Grave, and yet I know not when I shall descend into it.  
This good man feeling his life to extinguish as a Lamp whose Oil begins to fail, ●alled Esau, and commanded him to take his Quiver▪ his Bow and Arrows, and to go a hunting that 〈◊〉 might bring him something to eat, with this promise, that at his return he would give him his benediction before his Death. Esau immediately performing what his Father commanded him, Rebecca who heard isaack's whole discourse, made use of her time very seasonably to do● what the Spirit of God directed her.  
Ah! how ingenious is virtue! and how dexterous is Love when it follows the will of God who would believe that a Woman durst undertake what Rebecca did? Her Artifi●es then were innocent, and her intentions very just and holy, when she disguised jacob to deceive Isaac and frustrate Esau of the blessing he expected.  
Go then my Son (saith she) and make choice amongst our Flocks of the two fa●test Kids you shall find, I will so dress them, that I will make them ser●e for your Father's repast, to the end having fed on them, he may bless you before his death.  
But what replied jacob? Mother you know that my Body is not Hairy like my Brothers; I am fearful then lest my Father touch me, and believe I intent to mock him, lay on me his malediction.  
But jacob would never have been so adventurous as to undertake an action which might irritate the goodness of Isaac, if Rebecca had not relieved him in his fear, and if she had not made appear to him that her Wiles were very just, and her design most innocent. Ah! s●ith she, my Son, leave unto me this fear: I will preserve thee from this danger thou apprehendest, and if any ill chance to happen, I wish it may fall on me; do then boldly what I shall say unto thee.  
She presently apparelled him in Esau's Garments, covered his Neck and Hands with Skins which had some resemblance of his Brothers, and gave him such Bread and Meat as she knew would be pleasing to isaack's taste.  
jacob presents them unto his Father, who hearing his voice asked if he were Esau; he answered that he was his Eldest Son, and that having exactly performed all his commands, he besought him to eat of the Venison he had prepared for him▪ But what? Said Isaac to him▪ how couldst thou take and provide it in so short a time? jacob answers, it is God who hath so disposed it, and made it as it were fall into my Hands. If it be so, approach my ●on, and give me thy Hands that I may to●ch them, and feel whether thou art my Son Es●u or not. jacob obeyed, and after Isaa●k had touched him, he saith unto him, surely this is the voice of jacob I hear, but if I be not deceived these are the Hands and Hair of Esau I feel: Notwithstanding this doubt Isaac gave his benediction to jacob and mad● good cheer of all he had presented to him.  
Imagine whether Rebecca stood not watching to observe all that passed. I represent unto myself that she encouraged jacob with Gestures and Signs which made up a good part of this action: The time must needs seem long unto her out of the fear she might have lest Esau should come in and disturb the ●ourse of Divine providence, and the conduct of her prudent designs.  Gen. 27. 
At Esau's coming Jacob is dismayed,  
And to get Favour, Gifts before him laid:  
Instead of Blows, he Jacob Kisseth oft;  
Instead of Wrestling gives Embraces soft.  
Approach my Son saith Isaac, and bestow a Kiss 〈◊〉 thy poor Father: Presently jacob leaps on his ●eck, embraces him, hugs him, and lays his eyes, ●is lips, and mouth on him; and than Isaac thus ●le●●e● him, viz.  
Be thou blessed then for all Eternity, my most dear 〈◊〉, let God b●stow on thee the Dew of Heaven, the 〈◊〉 of the Earth, Wheat and Wine in abundance: Let 〈◊〉 Nations be subject to thee, and let all the Tribe odour 〈◊〉. Be thou Lord over thy Brethren, let them bo● 〈◊〉 Knees before thee: Let those that give thee their. benediction be Blessed; and if any one Curse thee let 〈◊〉 be also Cursed.   

CHAP. XXIII. Giving an Account of God's design in preferring Jacob.  
AND now unhappy Esau! where are the privi●ledges of thy Birth, where is the right of th● Primogeniture, and the Blessing thou dost expect Who art thou? In vain is it for thee to say thou 〈◊〉 Esau, and the Eldest Son of Isaac, jacob hath sup●planted thee, and when thou didst hunt he foun● at home what thou soughtest abroad. jacob saying that he was Esau and the Eldest Son, knew we●● enough that in effect and according to the right 〈◊〉 Nature, he was jacob and the Younger Brothe● Nevertheless Isaac stood in admiration even to rapture, and at first he could hardly imagine, that I●●cob had deceived him: but at last in the ecstasy his astonishment, God showed him as St. Austin b●●lieved, his manner of conduct in Jacob's proceedin● He saw the just intentions of this unmalitious dec●●●ver: And at length he discerned that the Benediction he had given him was valid.  
jacob is then the Elder Brother, and from hen● forth his Brethren shall be his Servants. It is in 〈◊〉 for Esau to ●ear his Heart with a thousand sighs, 〈◊〉 to no purpose for him to lament and roar like Lion.  
His sorrows and roar may well excite 〈◊〉 pity in his Father's Soul. But this poor old M●n 〈◊〉 no other thing to give him but some drops of Dew, and at best but some humid and clammy pours which ●atten the Earth.   

CHAP. XXIV. Giving an Account of jacob's Ladder.  Gen. 23. 
Jacob Flies, from his Brother's 〈◊〉, away,  
And sees a Vision as he Sleeping lay;  
It is a Ladder on which Angels ●alk  
From Heaven to Earth, whence God to him doth Talk.  
ISaack though blind clearly discerned what his wife pretended; and then feeling some touches of this wise hand which managed the whole business, he commanded Jacob's presence, to give him his Blessing, and to express unto him his trouble to see him ●ep●rt out of his house before his death: But nevertheless since time pressed him for his ●arriage, it ●as most convenient to take the way Mesopotamia to obtain one of Laban's Daughters for his Wife.  
Go then my dear Chil●, said this good old Man, 〈◊〉, and let the God of Abraham be thy Guide, during 〈◊〉 whole Voyage▪ For my part, I beseech him to augment on thee the benedictions I have most willingly gi●●n thee. Above all I b●g of him to multiply thy offering, and to put thee in possession of the Country where ●●ou shalt be as a S●ranger or Pilgrim.  
Farewell th●n my m●st dear Son, farewell all my joy, ●nd all the Love of my House; which said, he Kiss●th 〈◊〉, he Embraces him, he 〈◊〉 him with his Tears. nevertheless Rebecca to who● all Moment's were longer 〈◊〉 Day●s, endeavoured speedily to draw him thence, 〈◊〉 she might put him in th● Equipage of a Traveller, 〈◊〉 give him her farewell, lest Esau should disturb the departure and the design of this Voyage. It was indeed a trial of constancy for this poor Mother, when she must leave this Son, but at last she bade him adieu, and brought him on his way after she had spoken to him some few words which issued less from her Mouth, than from her Heart.  
I wonder how the Father, Mother, and Son did not die upon this sad Separation.  
In fine, the wise Providence of God expects jacob at his resting place, and intends by the favour o● the Night visibly to discover the manner of his conduct, and the Model of his Government.  
jacob is gone then from Barsheba, and travels 〈◊〉 alone under the protection of Heaven, and with th● confidence that God would never abandon him.  
But what! Behold Night already sounding the re●●treat, and shutting up all passages to our Pilgrim, 〈◊〉 beheld the Sun stealing from his Eyes, and the Mo●● giving no light but to discover to him on the Plai●● of Bethel a bed of Earth, and some stones to ser●● him for a Bolster. Poor jacob! What Bed? Wh●● Bolster? What Night? And what Inn?  
Repose then jacob, and spend all the Night in s●●curity, since God hath been pleased to Assign yo● this Lodging.  
O happy Retreat! O pleasing Night! O delici●●● Bed! O divine Repose?  
jacob is fallen a sleep, but God, who always wat●●●eth, showed him a Prodigious Ladder which touc●●● the Earth with one end and the Heavens with the 〈◊〉, Angels by turns descended and ascended 〈◊〉 Ladder▪ and on the top God himself appeared as were supported by it.  
But behold indeed a strange Spectacle upo● Theatre of Sanctity. I am not astonished if 〈◊〉 jacob had taken his rest he awaked at this 〈◊〉 bearing God in his Mouth and Heart▪ He calls Heaven to witness, and protests that Bethel is the 〈◊〉 of God where the most glorious rays of his 〈◊〉 are seen. Ah saith he, how venerable is this place, and how full of a holy terror, it is the Gate of Heaven! And if jacob could live a hundred-thousand years, he would have no other God, than he that appeared to him.  
In fine, under the protection of the Divine Providence, jacob pursues his design, and this was the promise made him during his Vision. Yes jacob, saith God, I am the Lord of thy Progenitors, Abraham and Isaac▪ and I will bestow the Land where ●hou repos●st, on thyself and all thy Children: I will multiply them as grains of Sand which are upon ●he Earth· and their Progeny shall extend as far ●s the four Corners of the Universe. I myself will 〈◊〉 thy Guardian during all thy Voyages, and will ●ring thee back to thine own House.   

CHAP. XXV. Giving an account of the constancy of Jacob in the Quest of Rachel.  Gen. 29. 
Jacob to Haran comes, a Stone there rowles  
From off a Well, to Water Rachel's fowldes.  
Laban receives him kindly, whom he serves,  
And for his pains, his Daughters both deserves.  
●ACOB being now waked out of this mysterious sleep and Divine rapture, in which God had ●ept him for the space of a whole Night on the ●●ains of Bethel, he took his way towards the East, ●here a while after near unto a Well, he met with ●●ocks of Sheep and Shepherds, of whom he enquired whether they were not acquainted with Laban, and whether they knew not his House. Behold, at the same time a Rachel approaching, the second Daughter of Laban, who kept her Father's Sheep, and led them to drink where jacob stayed.  
And here we may suppose jacob thus to bespeak his fair Rachel, upon his first approaches to her, viz.  

A Dialogue between Jacob and Rachel.  jacob. 
Fair beauteous Maid, the loveliest of your Sex: How long shall I admire, and not enjoy so great a Treasure.  Rachel. 
Alas! you see 'tis not in my power to yiell myself to your Arms, the custom of our Country denies it.  jacob. 
Y●t 'twas for you, for you my Love, ● laboured, long 〈…〉 Winter's Stormy Blast, an● Summer p●●●hi●g Heat, whilst all your Father● tender F●●●ks with care were tended and secured from da●ger by my vigilence.  Rachel. 
'Tis true and for your service my Sister i● fallen to your share and you in her made happy.  jacob. 
'Tis so, she is mine, but your deluding Father gave 〈◊〉 to my Bed, when I expected t● pass the night in transports with my beauteous Rachel, for whose sake I now have undertaken 〈◊〉 years service yet to come.  Rachel. 
Alas must I stay seven year longer, tha● cruel Father, why was I not given at first according you ha● contracted.  jacob. 
Grieve not my beauteous fair since 〈◊〉 your Father's will, but give me leave to lo● you at that rate, the love of you transcending the pleasures Earth afoards, will render servit●● delightful, and make short the years of my in●●sant labour.  Rachel. 
And is your love than more to me than to Sister, it cannot surely be.  jacob. 
Infinitely more by how much more thy virtues and thy beauties do excel.  Rachel. 
Yet perhaps when I am yours, your mind will alter, and I shall be neglected.  jacob. 
Never, never, thou best of Earthly blessing to you my love shall stand immoved as Mountains, firm as Rocks, and boundless as the Ocean.  Rachel. 
Could I believe such constancy in Man, I sh●●ld esteem the Sex at a high rate.  jacob. 
Witness all you shining Lamps of Heaven, th●t nightly dance your mystic round, through the 〈◊〉 Arches of the Firmament; that my passions sh●ll ne'er diminish, but you next the Deity that I adore shall be Admired and Loved.  Rachel. 
No more, I am confirmed, and what I urged 〈◊〉 but to try the constancy of Heaven, befriend Jacob: Isaack's Son sh●ll be the darling of my thoughts, ●one else sh●ll ever sit upon my heart.  jacob. 
Blessed Resolve, O now I'm happy above ●he World! more Rich than La●an, and in lofty ex●a●y transported beyond Expression. Now my days will seem but few, and Labour will be pleasure, ●ince I am assured of Rachel's Love. But see your Father comes, I must hence to Fi●l●, lest the spreading flocks shoul● wander. Take, take this dear, ●ear Ki●s as a firm pledge of my unalterable Love: An● for thi● time farewell my only Joy.  Rachel. 
All joy and my b●st wishes wait upon the M●n on whom my Happiness depends.  

The Conclusion.  

Thus Jacob flying from Stern Esau's Face,  
Finds Comfort, prospering in every place:  
God guards his Chosen from the storms of Fate,  
And Raises those, bad men Conspire to Hate:  
He gives him Wives and Children, Flocks and Herds,  
And saves him from bold Esau's Threatening Swords:  
Through all Calamities he's safely brought,  
To'h Heavenly Canaan that he long had sought.   
I know not whether the Day were far advanced: but in some part of its course where the Sun may be seen, I am well assured that the Eyes of Rach●l did cast forth a thousand Love Darts and lights into the Soul of jacob. R●chel was a● Aurora which marcheth before the Sun, and instantly these two Planets did that whi●h the Sun and Moon could not effect since their Creation. jacob ki●●ed Ra●hel, and knowing that she was his C●si●, he began s●e●tly to cry out, and presently hi● Eyes sh●d some 〈◊〉, which expressed the excess of his contentment. Rach●l would have done the same if her ●yes ha● been l●nger fixed on I●●ob: but she ran from thence to advertise her Father, that not far from the House she had happily met with one of her Cosen-german●, the Son of Isaac and Re●ecca. Which La●an hearing, went to meet and bring him to his Lo●ging, as also to know the cause of his coming. jacob freely declared to him what h●d passed; to which Laban answered he was very wel●ome, and that he received him as his d●ar N●phew, and as a part of himself▪ But for the r●st, although he had a desire to entertain him as his own Brother, yet he must resolve to serve and merit some ways by his labours.  
jacob had no mercenary Spirit, nor Body trained up to labour; Nevertheless of a Master he must become a Servant, and learn by Serving others, more prudently to Command hereafter: He made a contract then with his Uncle, and obliged himself to serve him for the space of seven years, at the end of which Laban promised to Merry him unto Rachel, the youngest but the fairest of his Daughters. The ●ldest which was called Lea, had a Face of Wa● which melted through herEyes, and rendered her deformed & Blare-Eyed: but the youngest had so many beauties and attractives, as the least of her glances had power enough to render her Mistress of Jacob's affections. It was for her sake and for the Love he bore her, that he became a Servant.  
jacob's Love was not of the nature of those petty Devils which possess lascivious Souls, it was neither deceitful nor violent, neither indiscreet nor arogant, neither irregular nor impious, neither variable nor impudent, neither capricious nor sporting, neither fantastic nor stupid, neither remiss nor unworthy of a virtuous Man: but sincere, moderate, prudent, humble, stayed, constant, respectful, simple, condescending, equal, provident, courageous, and such as could be desired in a good Man.  
Jacob's Courtships were most just and holy; he lived like an Angel incarnate amidst the flames and ar●or● of a most pure and holy affection; he excited himself to patience ●nd labour by the sight and upon the hopes of Rachel; and he di● like those who running at Rings, fix only their Eyes on the prize proposed to them; he found also no weariness at the en● of his course, and saw himself upon the point of enjoying his reward after seven year's Service, which scarce seemed unto him to have lasted so many days.  
But what! as the Hopes we repose in Men very often deceive us, so after the Wedding Night, the day discovered unto jacob the cheats of Laban, who instead of Rachel gave him Lea. Never was any man more astonished than jacob, who expected nothing less than such a Metamorphosis.  
He fails not to complain unto Laban of this deceit, b●t for answer they told him, that it was not the custom to marry the younger Daughter before the Elder; that if he would yet for one week accomplish this Marriage with Lea, Rachel should be given him for his second Wife, provided that he would again oblige him to serve for the space of seven years.  
Behold a lively Image in the person of Laban, of the deceits and falsehoods of the World, which gives Straws for Gol●, Bri●rs for Roses, Counterfeits for true Diamonds, Chains for Liveryes, Bondage for Rewards, and at l●st, fables, errors and lies, which cause us to spend our lives in a detestable blindness.  
Ah! jacob, jacob, serve then not only seven days, but even seven years more entire, to obtain Rachel. jacob, it sufficeth to love her: For in loving, every thing is animated; every thing lives, every thing prospers, and every thing passeth away most sweetly under the Laws of love▪ and since it is not for a Man, but for a Go●, nor for a mortal beauty, but for an immortal happiness you captivate yourself.  
It was no trouble unto jacob to receive this yoke, seeing himself the possessor of his dear Rachel; he resumed the Trade he had so happily begun, and he believed that the shackles of his second service, would not be less supportable than the former.  
Behold him happy to see himself in a Bondage, where he was a Servant to Laban, and the Master of Rachel. All his misfortune was only because he contemned Lea which proceeded from the excessive love he bore unto Rachel.  
But God taking pity of Lea rendre● her considerable by her Fruitfulness, and by the Birth of four Sons, the first of which was called Ru●en, the second Si●●on, the third Levi, and the fourth judas, which were the four principal causes of Rachel's envying Lea.  
Rachel will die, she s●ith, if no Children be g●●ven her. What man I beseech you can bestow a sa●vour which God hath reserved to himself? Was 〈…〉 then a means to make jacob die, seeing that 〈◊〉 Wife asked that which lay not in his power to give her? It was requisite nevertheless that the goodness of God should alleviate the grief of this sad Mother; giving unto her handmaid two Sons, one of which was called Dan and the other Nepthalim.  
God immediately after showed the same favour to the Handmaid of Lea who brought forth G●d and Asher.  
After which Lea herself conceived of Issachar, then of Zebulon, and at last of a Daughter called Dinah.  
It was by the means of these Generations God began to accomplish the Promise he had made to Abraham, Isaac, and jacob; And it was out of these first springs issued a thousand and a thousand streams of this blood of Patriarcks, which was to overflow the fairest Lands of the Universe. At that time jacob saw the time approaching during which he had tied himself to serve his Father-in-Law Laban. Rachel nevertheless was troubled at her Barrenness: But at length God heard her prayers, and made her the Mother of a Son, whose birth effaced all the marks of her shame and dishonour. This joseph, this miraculous Infant, was the delight of his Parents, the glory of Rachel▪ the love of jacob, the wish and desire of both, the support of his Family, the King of all his Brethren, the Saviour of his People, an● the masterpiece of the graces and favours of God.    

A Dialogue between Balaam, his Ass, and the Angel.  

Balaam puff't up with Pride, does take his way  
To Moabs' King; The Ass that's wont to bray;  
With Humane voice affright ●im till he see  
An Armed Angel urging heavens decree,  
Who l●ts him pass, that Jacob bl●st may be▪   Balaam. 
How am I Honoured? In what high Esteem is Balaam held? That Moabs' Princes thus attend his Morning wake, and Kings become his supplicants? Did they know what little power I have to serve them, surely they would not be Solicitous at such a rate. Alas! Alas! my Curses in this case are fruitless. Jacob's God, at whose dread Name I Tremble; frustrates all my purposes, and by his power despoils me of those juggling Arts wherewith I blin●ed the delude● Eyes of Godless Nations: Yet must I go and visit Balack▪ or the King will storm at my delay. Ha! Why stars my Ass? Why crowds she to the Wall, the Coa●t is clear: No dreadful Apparition sure does represent itself to her Amazed Eyes. How's this? The more with Stripes I load her, the more she doth Recoil: My Heart misgives. Terror seizes every part. Ha! now she's fallen, and I'm crushe●: But with redoubled Stripes I'll thus rev●●ge myself.  Ass. 
Wick●d and Sin blinded Man, what means this cruelty to me? Wh●● h●ve I done to thee, that thou hast Smitten me th●se three times?  Balaam. 
Ha! Amazement seizes me! What is't 〈◊〉 h●●r▪ or amateur delad●d with t●e ●cho of s●me sou●d rebounding ●●●m the Neighbouring Hi●●s▪ ●or what strange▪ po●er can th●● inspi●e a Brute with humane Voice, to sou●● A●●●ul●t●? And y●t it seems no l●ss: W●at ●ave I ●one ●o th●e, that thou hast 〈◊〉 me th●se three ti●●s? Where not they the words▪ Yes, yes, they were: But y●t slav, I'll try again if any ●urth●r ●ou●d remains: ●hy have! Stricke● thee 〈◊〉 t●●u? W●s th●re no● a reason for i● 〈◊〉 t●ou ●●st 〈…〉: and O that th●re were Sword In my 〈◊〉! ●or no● woul● I Kill th●e.  Ass. 
Am 〈…〉 thine Ass, upon which thou 〈◊〉 Ridde● ever si●ce I was thi●e, to this day: And 〈…〉 ever wont to do so unto thee?  Balaam. 
Ha! Yet again: O s●●pendious and Amassing; what can this speaking prodigy in Nature signify? or to what end tends it? Sure Angry Heaven forbids my further passage, and commands my swift return, least dire destr●ction meet with me in the way. Was I ever wont to do so unto thee, were n●t they the last words? Ay, they were: Why no thou di●est not, but 'tis now too soon: Yet sure there's something further meant by those mysterious sentences. O miserable me! my Eyes are open now, and 'tis too to plain: The Ass was wiser th●n the Prophet. A bright Heavenly Warrior with a flaming Sword, wide wavering threatens me with present death. Wretch that I am! What shall I do? But falling prostrate, straight implore his mercy.  Angel. 
Balaam, wherefore ●ast thou smitten thy Ass these three tim●s? Behold I went out to withstand thee, because thy way is preverse before me, and the Ass saw me and turned from me these three times. Unless she h●d turne●, surely now also I had Killed thee, and saved her alive.  Bal●am. 
O mighty Lord sp●re me! poor wretched me! Who with a strange Confusion must confess, that through ignorance I have provoked thy Anger, and th●s ●in●●d; for I kn●w not th●● thou stoodst in the w●y against me. Now therefore if it displease thee, I will get me back again.  Angel. 
No, 'tis the Almighty God of jacob's will, you shoved proceed, but only the words that I shall speak unto thee, that shalt thou speak; beware thou degress not, le●st swift vengeance over●ake thee.  Bal●am. 
How sud●●inly the glorious Apparition's vanished; now I know that Israel is blessed; nor can my words prevail against them, nor must I Curse the chosen of the Lord, but bless them; Even so transcendent happy are all those that put their trust in him. But my Companions call, I must away, though my visit will be little pleasing to the King.  

The Conclusion.  
The Madbrained Prophet goes to Balack, where  
He Sacrifices does with speed prepare,  
And blesses Jacob, which does much displease  
The King who gives him straight his Writ to Ease;  
And sends him packing to his place again,  
Where soon he's by the Sword of Israel slain.    

A Dialogue between Joseph and his Mistress.  
The Argument.  
The shameless Wife of Potiphar, whose Eyes  
Were full of Lawless love, no sooner spies  
The beauti●s of old jacob's captive Son;  
But big with lust, she tr●es if he'll be won,  
To Act a thing that must displease his God:  
But finding him avers, and that he stood  
At distance with the sin, her love at last  
Turns into rage, and he's in Prison cast.  Mistress alone. 
What a strange Passion do I feel how my heart beats, and how my blushes come and go? O me! I am all s●aver so fierce my Blood boils in my Veins, this passion must be allayed, yet how nothing but the beauteous Hebrews Love can satisfy my desire: Wherefore then do I refrain to let him see how much I dote upon him? He's my Slave and will not sure deny me such a favour; yet methinks had he intended to be kind, he might ere this have read the language of my Eyes, perceived my eager gazings on his lovely face, observed m● blushes, and the many gentle grasps I've given him, these not regarded makes m●●ear he will not yield me Love for Love, and then O me I am miserable! But see as I could wish he comes, and now the House is still, now, now I'll tell him all my mind, and stifle this tormenting Flame no longer. Welcome my Hebrew to your Mistress presence, how does my lovely joseph do, come wave this cringing distance an● be free.  Joseph enters. 
What means the consort of my Lord, by so much kindness to her Slave.  Mrs. 
No, no, 'tis I'm the slave, come sit, sit down my Love, 'tis I'm the Captive fettered in the Chains, the snares of your bewitching Eyes.  Jo. 
Ha! What is't I hear? A sound that makes my Heart to tremble, and confounds my every part,  Mrs. 
O be be not so Coy, nor Frighted, but sit near my Love: Why starts the Object of my Sole delight? Why change his Looks? And wherefore looks my Love so wildly? Knows he not who it is that humbly sues for favour.  Jo. 
Too w●ll I know, and thus wi●h low prostration on my Knees beg you'd urge this talk no further.  Mrs. 
O rise! and wound me not by a denial! How, urge no further: Sure could you perceive the passion that thus melt my Soul to tenderness, you'd not be thus averse, but pity her whose Breast the fatal shafts of Love sent from your Eyes, burn with Incessant fury.  Jo. 
Alas! my Master.  Mrs. 
Your Master, what of him, he's far from home, his business at the Court detains him from prying into the secrets of our Love.  Jo. 
But Gods allseeing Eyes which pierce through the A●strusest secrets, and from w●ich the darkest Counsels are not hid behold us.  Mrs. 
Pish, let not such vain fears keep back my Love, my much Loved Hebrew from m●●ting my ●ager Joys, and seeing transports in my Arms.  Jo. 
Consider well, you are my Master's Wife, behold my Master knows not what is with me in the House, having committed all unto my Hand; there is no greater in the House than I, neither hath he kept any thing back from me; but you because you are his Wife. How then shall I do this great wickedness and Sin against God.  Mrs. 
O stand not on this niceties, wave, wave such fond Excuses in Compassion to a Kind Indearing Mistress, who Burns, who Languishes, and must Expire, unless your kind compliance save her Life. Still, still, you shall be great, nay more than ever.  Jo. 
I dare not Sin against my God, were't in your power to bribe me with the Sceptre of the Universe: Therefore l●t me implore you'd name some other way that's lawful to oblige you, and I'm all Obedient.  Mrs. 
O 'tis not in thy power, in aught besides, to endear me to your interest. Come, come my Joy, my Love, my Life, you shall, you shall I say.  Jo. 
Horror and Mischief! I'll not stay, but winged with speed and resolution, leave the Tents of wickedness.  Mrs. 
O he's gone! he's gone! Stay, stay my Love, my Joy, my Life. O! Leave me not, I die, I Languish if you take your presence from me; hard Hearted Man, and hast thou quite forsaken me? O Restless, Restless is my mind! What shall I do? Was ever Woman Slighted thus? Well Hebrew well, since I am thus rejected, and counted unworthy of your Love, I'll turn my Passion into Mortal hate, and persecute thee with all the Malice injured Love can form in Woman's angry mind; his Garment he has left▪ I'll Charge him to have attempted what I so entreated for, and loaded with Chains I'll have him in a Dungeon laid, where Meg●r Famine soon sh●ll waste his Beauty, and make him repent he was unkind to her who held him once as dear as h●r own Life.  

The Conclusion.  
Joseph, at Potiphars returns, accused  
Falsely, that he his Mistress had Abused;  
Cast into Irons, yet finds favour there,  
From his Stern jailer, God being every where  
At hand, to keep him from the Rage of Men,  
And soons Exaulted to highstate again.  
A Father unto Pharaoh he is made,  
And saves from Death old Jacob with his Bread:  
When fearful Famine made the Nations Groan,  
So prosper those that fear the Lord alone.    

A Paraphrase upon the Plagues of Egypt. Israel's delivery from Bondage. And Pharo's overthrow in the Red-Sea.  
The mighty God of Jacob lo●king now  
Upon his sacred Covenant; his Vow  
He made unto the Patriarch: here's the Groans  
Of his oppressed Children, their sad Moans  
Sounded so loud, that he compassionate  
Pitying their wretched and deplored state.  
S●nt Moses and Wise Aa●on to the King,  
His Sons from Nilus' Land with sp●ed to bring,  
And that hi● mighty power might more appear;  
He loads the Land with Plagues, with Death and Fear,  
Till by a stretched out hand he brought them thence,  
Passing the Seas whilst Water's mak● a Fence  
On either side, and Heavenly Beacon's Light,  
Them over the dry dusty Sands by Night;  
But bard●n'd Pharaoh's wrath at what was done;  
Thus to his Warriors in a Rage began  
Hast, hast my Horses, and my Arms provide;  
Let all my Chariots March on either side.  
The Fugitives that fly us are shut in  
The Sea and Wilderness they are between;  
They soon shall know their God's to weak to save,  
When our devouring Swords will dig their Grave.  
Thus in Blasph●mious boasting he prepared,  
And Armed with Fury followed on th●m hard,  
Frighting the fearful Rout, though Seas gave w●y  
And Heaven conspired proud Pharaoh to dismay,  
For coming to the deep, and finding all  
The smitten Waters tur●'d into a Wall;  
And Israel p●ssing in, he venture too,  
Though much Amazed for jacob's getting through;  
The Storm began to rise, the Skies shoot flame,  
And Rushing winds from either quarter came:  
The Horses flounce and cast their Rider's down,  
The Wheels fly off, off tumbl●s Pharoahs' Crown.  
Swift Horror and Amazement every where  
Besets them, an● in dreadful shap●s appear  
Tenthousand Furys seem ●efore their Ey●s,  
And now is heard nothing but woeful Cries,  
For why the Roaring Billows ●ast amain  
To s●ill the late made Val●y, w●en in vain  
The Swiftest Horseman st●i●es against its might,  
In vain they Struggle, vainly urge their flight.  
The Conquering Waves their Strength and Wit confound,  
Plebeians with a Monarch th●re are drow●d,  
For whom, whil● Egypt Gro●ns, glad Isra'l Sings,  
And sends up praises to th● King of Kings,  
Th●ir great D liverer, and Glorify  
Him in his wondrous Power and Majesty.   

A Dialogue between Samson and Delilah.  
The Argument.  
Samson the strong, the bold Philistines dread,  
By a lewd Woman is at last betrayed.  D●lilah. 
O my Lord you once prosest you loved me dear as your Eyes! And that you would lay your Trophies at the feet of her you called so oft your joy and your delight▪ but now 'tis plain all was but flattery, mere d●simulating which makes it appear you love me not.  Samson. 
Why weeps my only happiness? sure she cannot doubt my love, since 'tis in her power to ask and have what ever her kind Soul can form.  Delilah. 
Still, still dissembling; O you men have al● the Arts to make us fancy what is not, for if you loved me as you say, you would not see my tears thus unprevented, when 'tis in your power to dry the Eyes of her you have been pleased to call your love, your joy, your life, with a thousand such indearing soft expressions, but your former kindness is forgot an● now 'tis plain that you despise me.  Samson. 
Despise thee! No I love thee, even to madness, would do any thing to hush thy cares, use all my force to be revenged on those th●t injure thee, if any dare be so presumptuous; Nay, lay my life down at your feet: But if I'm ignorant and know not whence this Storm of grief that Clouds thy beauteous face arises, how can I remove it.  Delilah. 
You may soon guests whence, since 'tis caused by your unkindness, in not daring trust me with the secrets of your Heart, if you loved me as you say, you would not hide aught from me, as if afraid my Breast could not conceal it from the giddy Vulgar.  Samson. 
What is't my love would know? speak and it shall be told, were it the inmost secret my large Breast contains.  Delilah. 
You know this my meaning, I have often asked the question, and as often been deluded with pretended truths that proved feigned stories in the end; I would know from whence that mighty courage springs that makes you dreadful to mankind, and has so often proved fatal to the Philistines.  Samson. 
And wherefore would my love know this secret, whom God commands me to conceal, is't as you oft attempted to betray me to my Enemies.  Delilah. 
O my dear Lord! how can such suspicion sink into your mind, that she who dotes upon her glorious her redoubted warrior, should act so base a pa●t.  Samson. 
Was it not once or twice attempted, nor can you be ignorant by whom.  Delilah. 
P●ha, 'twas but in a way of merriment could you imagine I would have exposed you to the danger you conceived, 'twas all fancy through desire to see your courage tried that your renown might rise, and shine the brighter by my conduct.  Samson. 
May I believe this and that nothing else is intended, if I might methinks I would not hide the secret on which my life and well does depend, from one who sits so high in my esteem.  Delilah. 
By this tender kiss and the indearment of all past and future joys, I'll never reveal it if you deal but faithful with her you are pleased to call your love, your Delilah, and your delight.  Samson. 
Methinks I'm loath to tell the mighty secret, and yet love charms it from me, though I tremble at the thought of trusting it in any Breast, but where it has so long been treasured.  Delilah. 
Still, still, is it you doubt, your dear, dear Delilah, now, now, I see you hate me. Oh!  Samson. 
Nay, dry those tears, and take the secret though the sad relation prove my ruin. My hair, my hair, in that my strength is confined, that shorn, no more thy Samson can encounter Armies; But in strength is equal to the meanest Philistine.  Delilah. 
And is this true my Lord. Nay, don't deceive her any more that loves you dear as life, or any thing that has a name.  Samson. 
By all that's good, by the Tremendious Majesty that I adore, no falsehood is in my words.  Delilah. 
Now I believe thee, and am joyed to think that you have so much confidence in Woman, but come my love, let us retire that with warm kisses, and my soft embraces, I may make you recompense for such a favour.  Samson. 
With willingness I fly into thy Arms, and in the midst rapture meet thy eager joys.  

The Conclusion.  
He goes and lulled a sleep's deprived of that,  
The Nations had so often trembled at:  
Robbed of his strength producing hair, his foes  
In fetters, his now weak grown limbs in close,  
Make him their sport till strength returns again,  
When midst a thousand dead himself is slain.    

A Dialogue between Jeptha and his Daughter.  Daughter. 
Long live my Father, and now blessed be Heaven that ha● made him Triumph over Jacob's Enemies, and trod upon the Necks of those that spoilt Israel.  Father. 
Oh! wretched, wretched that I am, what have I done? And yet my vows are past recall.  Daughter. 
What means the mighty the Victorious jeptha to be thus dismayed what trouble can afflict the Conqueror, can Pagan Blood shed in so just a cause make him relent.  Father. 
O no my Daughter, my dear comfort, and my Age's Solace: But I h●ve passed my vows in lieu of victory to offer to the mighty God, who has delivered Israel: what ere I met first appertaining unto me and thou, unhappy thou more dearer to me than Life with ill timed Music, art come first to meet thy wretched Father.  Daughter. 
Great Sir be not dismayed, but boldly keep your vows: What Glories greater than to live and die a Virgin; all I ask is time to bewail my Virginity, and then dispose of me as you have vowed and longer trifle not with Heaven.  Father. 
Thy Courage, O my dear dear Child Inspires my drooping Soul, though Tears burst from my Aged Eyes, which dry could view whole Nations Tragedies: take your freedom while you may, and then let Heaven claim its due; nor sh●ll thy memory be less lasting 〈◊〉 the World; not only famous shalt thou be in sacred Story, but yearly the Daughters of Israel shall bewail thee on the Mountains.  Daughter. 
O speak no more, lest I offend the Great Creator of the Universe, with growing proud to be oppressed with such a load of honour: Farewell my Father and my Lord, till two Months expire, and then I'll with obedience return to be at your dispose.  Father. 
Tenthousand blessings wait upon my Darling Love till she return.  

The Conclusion.  
The days expired, the beauteous Maid returns,  
And's offered up while grieved Israel mourns;  
Though not a Bloo●y Sacrifice as some.  
Vainly believe, but spends her days to come,  
As a Recluse till Heaven is made her home.    
Psal. 6.2. 
Have mercy Lord, upon me, for I am weak: O Lord, Heal me, for my Bones are vexed.  Soul. Jesus. Soul. 
Ah! Son of David, help;  jesus. 
What sinful Cry Implores the Son of David?  Soul. 
It is I.  Jesus. 
Who art thou?  Soul. 
Oh! a deeply wounded Breast, That's heavy loaden and would said have rest.  Jesus. 
I have no Scraps, and Dogs must not be fed Like Household Children, with the children's Bread.  Soul. 
True Lord, yet tolerate a hungry whelp To lick your Crumbs: O Son of David, help▪  Jesus. 
Poor Soul, what ail'st thou?  Soul. 
O I 〈◊〉 I sry,  
I cannot rest, I know not where to fly  
To find some ease; I turned my blubbered Face  
From Man to Man; I roll from place to place  
T' avoid my tortures, to obtain relief,  
But still I am dogged and haunted with my grief,  
My Midnight torments call the sluggish Light  
And when the Mornings come, they woe the Night.  Jesus. 
Sir cease thy Tears, and speak thy free desires.  Soul. 
Quench, quench my flames, and suage these scorching Fires.  Jesus. 
Canst thou believe, my Ha●d can Cur● thy Grief?  Soul. 
Lord I believe; Lord help my unbelief.  J●sus. 
Hol● forth thy Arm, and let my Finger's tr● Thy Pulse, where chiefly doth thy torment lie?  Soul. 
From Head to Foot, it reigns in every part,  
But play's the self-lawed tyrant in my Heart.  Jesus. 
Canst thou Digest? canst Relish wholesome Food?  
How stands thy taste?  Soul. 
To nothing that is good:  
All sinful trash, and Earth's unsavoury stuff  
I can dig'st, and relish well enough.  Jesus. 
Is not thy Blood as cool, as hot by turns?  Soul. 
Cold to what's good, to what is bad i● burns.  Jesus. 
How old's thy Grief?  Soul. 
I took't at the fall  
With eating Fruit.  Jesus. 
'tis Epidemical:  
Thy Blood's infected, and the infection sprung  
From a bad Liver: 'tis a Fever strong  
And full of Death, unless with present speed  
A vein be opened, thou must die or Bleed.  Soul. 
O I am faint and spent, that Lance that shall  
Let forth my Blood, le's forth my life withal:  
My Soul wants Cordials, and has greater need  
Of Blood, I (being spent so far) to bleed  
I faint already, if I bleed, I die.  Jesus. 
'tis either thou must bleed, Sick Soul or I:  
My blood's a Cordial. He that sucks my Veins,  
Shall cleanse his own, and conquer greater pains  
Then these: Cheer up, this precious blood of mine  
Shall cure thy Grief; my Heart shall bleed thine:  
Believe and view me with a faithful Eye,  
Thy Soul shall neither Languish, Bleed, nor Dye.  

Epigram.  
Canst thou be Sick▪ and such a Doctor by?  
Thou canst not live unless thy Doctor die.  
Strange kind of Grief, that finds no Medicine go●  
To suage her pains, but the Physicians Blood!    
Psal. 143: 2. Enter not into Judgement with thy Ser●ant, for in thy sight shall no man living ●e justified. jesus. justice.. Sinner. ●esus. 
Bring forth the Prisoner, justice..  Iust. 
Thy commands  
Are done, just Judge: See here the Prison'r stands.  〈◊〉. 
What has the Prisoner done? Say, what is the cause Of this Commandment?  Iust. 
He hath broken the Laws  
Of his too Gracious God; conspired the death  
Of that great Majesty that gave him breath.  
And heaps transgression, Lord▪ on trangression.  〈◊〉. 
How knowest thou this?  Iust. 
Even by his own confession,  
His sins are crying; and they cried aloud;  
They cried to Heaven, they cried to Heaven for Blood.  〈◊〉 
〈◊〉 What sayest thou Sinner? Hast thou ought to plead,  
●hat Sentence shall not p●ss? Hold up thy head,  
●nd show thy Brazen, and rebellious face.  〈◊〉. 
Ah me! I dare not: I'm to vile and base  
●o tread on the Earth, much more to lift  
●●ine Eyes to Heaven, I need no other shrift  
●han mine own Conscience; Lord I must confess,  
●m no more than dust, and no whit less  
●hen my indictment styles me; Ah! If thou  
●●arch too severe, with too severe a Brow,  
●hat Flesh can stand; I have transgressed thy Laws,  
〈◊〉 merits plead thy vengeance; not my cause.  〈◊〉 
Lord shall I strike the blow.  Jes. 
Hold justice stay.  
Sinner speak on, what hast thou more to say?  Sinner. 
Vile as I am, and of my selfabhor'd,  
I am thy handiwork, thy Creature Lord,  
Stamped with thy glorious Image, and at first,  
Most like to thee, though now a poor accursed  
Convicted Caitiff, and degen'rous Creature  
Here trembling at thy Bar.  Just. 
Thy faul's the greater.  
Lord shall I strike the blow?  Jes. 
Hold, Justice, stay Speak Sinner: Hast thou nothing more to say?  Sinner. 
Nothing but mercy, mercy; Lord my state  
Is miserable poor and desperate;  
I quite renounce myself, the World flee  
From Lord to jesus; from thyself, to thee,  Just. 
Cease thy vain hopes, my angry God has vowed,  
Abused mercy must have blood for blood:  
Shall I yet strike the blow?  Jes. 
Stay, Justice, hold▪  
My Bowels yearn, my fainting Blood grows cold,  
To view the trembling Wretch? Methinks, I spy  
My Father's Image in the Prisoners' eye.  Iust. 
I cannot hold:  Jes. 
Then turn thy Thirsty Blad●  
Into my sides, let there the wound be made.  
Cheer up dear Soul; redeem thy life with mine,  
My Soul shall smart; my Heart shall bleed for thine  Sinner. 
O groundless deeps! O love beyond degree  
Th' offended dyes, to set the offender free.  

Epigram.  
Mercy of mercies! he that was my drudge  
Is now my Advocate, is now my judge:  
He suffers, pleads, and sentences, alone:  
Three I adore, and yet adore but one.    
Deutrenomy 32.29. O that Men were Wise, and that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end. Flesh. Spirit. Flesh. 
What means my Sister's eye so oft to pass  
Through the long Entry of the optic Glass?  
Tell me, what secret virtue doth invite  
Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight?  Spirit. 
It helps the sight, makes things remote appear  
In perfect view; it draws the Object near.  Flesh. 
What sense-delighting objects doth thou spy?  
What doth the Glass present before thine eye?  Spirit. 
I see thy Foe, my reconciled Friend,  
Grim Death, even standing at the Glasses ●●d;  
His left hand holds a branch of Palm, his right  
Holds forth a two-edged Sword.  Fle. 
A proper sight,  
And is this all? doth thy prospective please  
Th'abused fancy with no shapes but these?  Spirit. 
●●es, I behold the darkened Sun bereaved  
(●f all his light, the battlements of Heaven  
Sheltering in flames; th● Angel guarded Son  
Of Glory on his Tribunall-Throne;  
I see a Brimstone Sea of boiling fire,  
And f●inds, with knotted whips of flaming Wire,  
Tor●er'ng poor Souls, that gnash their Teeth in vain,  
A●d kn●w their flame tormented tongues for pain.  
Look, Sister, how the queasy-stomacked Graves  
Vomit their dead, and how the Purple waves  
Scald their Consumeless Bodies, strongly Cursing  
All Wombs for Bearing, and all Paps for Nursing.  Flesh. 
Can thy distempered fancy take delight  
In view of Tortures? these are shows t'affright:  
Look in this Glass triangular; look here,  
here's that will ravish eyes.  Spirit. 
What seest thou there.  Flesh. 
The World in colours, colours that disdain  
The Cheeks of Proteus, or the Silken train  
Of Flora's Nymphs; such various sorts of hue  
As sun-confronting Iris never knew,  
Here if thou please to beautify a Town  
Thou may'st; or with a hand turned upside down.  
Here may'st thou scant or widen by the measure  
Of thine own will; make short or long at pleasure:  
Here may'st thou tyre thy fancy, and advise  
With shows more apt to please more curious eyes.  Spirit. 
Ah fool! that dotest on vain, on present toys  
And disrespect'st those true, those future joys!  
How strongly are thy thoughts befooled, alas,  
To dote on Goods that perish with thy Glass!  
Nay, vanish with the turning of a hand!  
Were they but painted colours, it might stand  
With painted reason that they might devote thee,  
But things that have no being to besot thee?  
For sight of future Torments is the way  
To balk those ills which present joys bewray.  
As thou hast fooled thyself, so now come hither,  
Break that fond Glass, and let's be wise together.  

Epigram.  
What Soul, no further yet? what never commence  
Master in faith, still Bachelor of sense,  
It's insufficiency, or what has made thee  
Oressip thy lost degree? thy Lusts have stayed thee.    
Canticles. 7.11. 
Come, my Beloved, let us go forth into the Field, and let us remain in the Villages.  Christ. Soul. 

1.  
Christ. Come, Come m● dear, and let us ●oth retire,  
And whi●● the dain●ys of the fragrant Fields:  
Where warbling Phil'mel, and the shrill mouth choir  
Ch●n● forth their raptures, where the Turtle builds  
H●r loudly N●st; and where the n●w born Brier  
Breathes forth the sweetness that ●er April yields.  
Come, Come, my lovely fair, and let us try  
These rural delicates; where thou and I  
M●● m●lt in private flames, and fear no slander by.   

2  
●oul. My hearts eternal j●y, in lieu of whom  
The ●arth's a blast and all the World's a bubble!  
●ur City-man Zion is the fairest hom●,  
But Country sweets are ta●g'd wi●h lesser tro●ble,  
●et's try them both, and ch●se the better; come  
A change in pleasure, makes the pleasure double.  
O● thy Commands depends my go or tarry,  
I'll stir with Martha, or I'll stay with Mary,  
Our Hearts are firmly fit, although her pleasures vary.   

3.  
●●rist. Our Countryman Zion (situate on high)  
With various object, still renews delight  
〈◊〉 arched Roof's of unstained Ivory,  
Her Walls of Fiery-●●arkling Chrysolit,  
〈◊〉 Pavement is of hardest Porphiry;  
Her spacious Windows are all Glazed with bright  
And flaming Carbuncles no need require,  
Titan's faint rays, or Vulcan's feeble fire;  
And every Gate's a Pearl, and every Pearl, entire.   

4.  
Soul. Fool that I was, how were my thoughts deceived?  
How falsely was my fond conceit possessed!  
I took it for an Hermitage but paved  
And daubed with neighbouring dirt, Thatched at best  
Alas I never expected more! nor craved;  
A Tu●●le ●●p'd, but for a Turtles nest:  
Come, Come, my dear, and let no idle stay  
Neglect th' advantage of the headstrong day  
How pleasure gr●tes that Feels the Curb 〈◊〉 delay.   

5.  
Christ. Come then, my joy, let our divided paces  
Conduct us to our fairest territory;  
O there w●'ll twine our Souls in sweet embraces,  
Soul. And in thy Arms I'll tell my passion stor●  
Christ. O there I'll Crown ●hy head with all my grac●  
Soul. And all these Graces shall reflect thy Glo●●  
Christ. O there I'll f●●d thee withCel●stial Man●  
I'll be thy 〈◊〉.  
Soul. And I, ●hy Hanna.  
Christ. I'll sound my Trump of joy.  
Soul. And 〈◊〉 resound Hosanna.   

Epigram.  
Mechanic Soul, thou must not only do  
With Martha, but with Mary ponder too:  
Happy's that House where these fair Sisters vary,  
But most, where Martha's reconciled to Mary.    
Ecclesiastes 3.1 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the Heaven. Time. Death. 

1.  
Time. Behold the frailty of this slender snuff,  
Alas, it hath ●ot long to last:  
Without the h●lp of either ●hief or puff▪  
Her weakness knows the way to waste.  
Nature hath made her substance apt enough  
To spend itself, and spend to fast:  
It needs the help of none  
That is to prone,  
To lavish our untuched, and languish all alone.   

2.  
Death. Time, hold thy peace, and shake thy slow pace Sand,  
Thy idle Minutes make no way,  
Thy Glass exceeds her hour, or else doth stand,  
I cannot hold, I cannot stay.  
Surcease thy Pleading, and enlarge my hand,  
I surfeit with too long delay.  
This brisk, this bold faced light  
Doth burn too bright;  
Darkness adorns my Throne, my day is dark as night.   

3.  
Time. Great Prince of darkness, hold thy needless hand,  
Thy Captiv's fast and cannot fly:  
●hat Arm can rescue? who can countermand?  
What power can set thy Prisoner free?  
〈◊〉 if they could, what Close, what Foreign Land  
Can hide the Head that flees from thee?  
But if her harmless light  
Offend thy sight,  
What needest thou snatch at Noon, what will be thine at Night.   

4.  
Death. I have not stayed my patience, my quick trade  
Grows dull and makes too slow return:  
This long-lived dept is due, and should been paid,  
When first her flame began to burn:  
But I have stayed too long, I have delayed  
To store my sast, my ●raving urn.  
My p●tent give● me power  
Each day, each hour,  
To strike the pleasant Thatch, and shake the princely Tower.   

5.  
Time. Thou countest too fast: t●y patient gives no power,  
Till Time shall please to say, Amen.  
Death. 〈◊〉 thou appoint my sha●t?  
Time. Or thou my hour?  
Death. 'Tis I ●id, do.  
Time. 'Tis I bid, when:  
Alas thou canst not make the poorest flower!  
To h●ng t●e drooping head till then:  
Thy shafts can neither kill,  
Nor strike, until  
My power give them Wings, and pleasure Arm thy will.   

Epigram.  
Expect, but fear not Death: Death cannot kill  
Till Time, (that first must Seal her pati●nt Will)  
Wouldst thou live long? keep time in high esteem,  
Whom gone, if ●hou canst not recall, redeem.    

A Dialogue between the Harlot and the unadvised Youth.  
The Argument.  
Words smooth as Oil the Simple Youth betray,  
Whilst he to certain Ruin takes his way.  Harlot. 
O! my Enchanting Youth, why standest thou Gazing thus? why at this distance, when the burning Glances of desireous beauty dart with so much Ardency and covet thy Embraces? Come be not Coy, nor Start, nor turn Aside; consider who 'tis Calls, who Courts thy Favour.  Youth. 
What Voice is this I hear? What Female Form is it my Eyes behold? What Lovely shape is it that th●s Approaches me?  Harlot. 
Why, why this distance? Wherefore shrinks the Comely Youth? Why shuns he her that would be proud to lay him in her Bosom, and with much Joy hug him in her warm Embraces.  Youth. 
Alas! I know not why I'm thus invaded, ●herefore is it you pursue me thus? What is't you see in me that should prove so Alureing?  Harlot. 
Come, come, these niceties they must ●e waved, I see you are an novice in the Arts of Love, and want to be instructed; this distance ill becomes you, when a kind, a most obliging lover woos you, to be frolic and complacient.  Youth. 
Could I but understand your meaning, I ●●ould tell the better how to answer: But as yet I'm ignorant of your design, nor know I what it is you'd have ●e do.  Harlot. 
All that I ask is that you would be kind, 〈◊〉 Husband is absent, and his distance from his habitation gives free scope to love. Peace-offerings I ●ave made, and by this kiss came out on purpose to find to meet my lovely Youth, to lead him to my rich Embroidered Bed, presumed with Amber, and the Civit of Ethiopi●, strewed all with Ros●s, and o'erspread with Gessamin; Aloes and Cinnamon are scattered round about it, come than my joy le's lose no time, but whilst we may with hasty steps high thither, and upon that soft recumbancy till morning take our fills of Love, where midst a thousand transports with kind kisses and low murmurs, I'll relate my passion.  Youth. 
The words you speak methinks move rapture in me, yet I'm ignorant in the affairs of Love, and drea● the combat, as not knowing how I must behave myself.  Harlot. 
How dread, why will my joy forsake so soft a list? Will he be so faint-hearted as to fly a yielding foe, who fainting with a passion though to fierce to be withstood will melt into his Arms, whilst he may f●e●ly ri●●e all those joys that lovers meet, and the Dame that love● him more than life, become his well pl●a●'d Victim.  Youth. 
Methinks I'm more and more transported with the word st●at trembling 〈◊〉 rough th● wide Organs of my Ears, and reach the 〈◊〉 sea●s of life, yet something though I understand not w●ll what 'tis checks me: Nay, bids me for●ear and fly the offer you have made.  Harlot. 
Alas▪ '●is Youthful fear, just so was I possessed befor● I had ent●red loves delightful combat, long time I hoverd on its Flo●ry Verges before I entered, but being in I sur●aited without controwl upon the sweets that nearly must in course resemble Heavenly joys, th●n sti●le those conspiring fancies that would ro● y●u of your bliss, and ca●● yourself into my open arms.  Youth. 
I am convinced there's something more th●● words can well express in loves transporting happiness a ●●ing so generally coveted by man, therefore laying 〈◊〉 side all other thoughts, I resolutely throw myself in●o your kind embraces to be at your dispose.  Harlot. 
Spoke like a lover, and now will we fly with all the Wings of love to my retirement, where my joy shall find far more than he with reason could expect: There, there my Snowy Arms shall twine about him like the clasping Ivy, whilst with a declining head he pants upon my rising Breasts and rifles all the sweets of love.  

The Conclusion.  
She has prevailed the Youth, she has ensnared  
In those dark Nets, she for his Soul prepared,  
Whilst he pursueing falls deluding joys,  
Amidst his revels, his own Soul destroys.  
So to the snare unthinking Birds still fly:  
So goes the Ox where he must surely die.    

A Dialogue between Jonah and the Mariners.  
The Argument.  
Jonah supposing though in vain, to fly  
From God's dread presence, his allseeing Eye.  
Takes shipping; but the dreadful Storms preven●  
His disobedience, when a Whale is sent  
To take him in, when cast into the Sea,  
And cast him on the Coast of Niniveh.  1 Mariner. 
O what prodigious storms arise in the dark Ai● what tracks of f●re appear, how loudly roar the fight Winds, and what a height mount up the brivy Waves, whilst black faced terror does disuse itself throughout the Ocean, no Sun nor Moon appears to cheer us with their light, no Star to guide us in our course.  2. Mariner. 
'Tis true the danger's great that the wild Ocean teems with all; uncertain 'tis what Wind rough East or West we now must yield u●to, the Clouds and Skies express the South-winds rage, the murmuring Seas the North-winds fury, speak not safe nor Shipwreck, can we reach the port?  1. Mariner. 
See, see, the glareing lightning seems to set the Waves on Fire, whilst Heaven powers down its cattaracts of Rain, no Fire but that in such a Storm could live, how are we born by Winds and Seas fell rage, up to the trembling Pole, and down again to Accharons' deep cave.  2. Mariner. 
T●at clap of Thunder rend the Mainmast, and has born it by the ●o●rd, the shrouds are rend, and now the leaking Vessel sucks the Waves apace, ●ll h●lp is vain, unless the pow●r that rules the Winds and Seas, with speed call back his angry Messengers, and still th● boisterous Flood.  1 Mariner. 
Yet let's use our utmost skill, no hand must now be unemployed to save our lives. Cast, cast the Carg● forth, lighten the Vessel, and perhaps she then may weather the rough Tempest; so, so my Lads, come over with it all.  2. Mariner. 
Now this is done the danger is never the ●ess, the Maisen is shivered, and the Rudders rend, the searchingWaves supplies the weight of what we have cast forth, no safety is expected from our labour, for methinks I see grim death stand a dancing on the angry Billows and each yawning surge expose wide Graves to my amazed sight, no hope remains but what we can expect from prayer, then with prostration let each call upon his God, and sack for safety, from the angry Deity, perhaps he may relent and bi● the Winds be still. Ha, see her's one regardless s●oring on the brink of ruin. Ro●se, rouse thou drowsy wretch and call upon thy God.  jonah. 
Whose that disturbs me with loud clamour, is't not night the time that weary mortals should repose.  1. Mariner. 
'Tis true, but know before many moment's p●ss we are no more, death, horrid death is hasting 〈…〉 Lives, the Ship is sinking, all our skill to  jonah. 
How! then is Death so near? Oh! now I hear the Storm, the fight Winds, and rattling Thunder shivering the swell Clouds, and feel the heaving Ocean toes the labouring Bark.  2. Mar. 
Yes, yes, too well we hear the like, but for whose cause is all this wrath of Skies; sure Angry Heaven would not destroy us unless some mighty Sin gave provocation. Come then and let us cast each Man his Lot, that we may find who has transgressed.  1. Mar. 
Agreed, agreed. Ha! on the Stranger it is fallen: tell, O tell what thou hast done, and who thou art?  Jonah. 
I am a Hebrew that fled from the Face of him that ma●e the Universe, who lives for ever, and is only God in Heaven and Earth; who rouses or makes still the Seas at pleasure: 'Tis I, 'tis I that have occasioned all that threatens you; no way there is for safety, but by casting me into the Swelling Flood.  2. Mar. 
O wonderful! But how shall we then Answer for your Blood? Let not the God whom you A●ore impute to us, if in this our great necessity we do a deed we shall hereafter blush to own; therefore we'll try.  Jonah. 
In vain you strive to get a shore: nor is there safety but in what I have advised.  1. Mar. 
Then lay not Lord, the blood of Innocence, the blood of him that ne'er offended us, to our sad charge; if thus we give him to the Waves, seeing we have no other way to save our lives.  2. Mar. 
So now he's dost in the Rough Billows: Ha! a monst●rous Whale has sucked him in, an● now the Winds are still, the Ocean leaves to Rage: the Clouds are ch●st away, bright day appears; and all our Leaks are stopped by Miracle.  1. Mar. 
'Tis true, though wondrous: This was sure some Homicide, or Altar Robber, that thus provoke the Angry Powers: but see we have with safety reached the wished for port.  

The Conclusion.  
Jonah cast Over-baord, soon finds a Tomb  
In a dread Fishes huge insatiate Womb;  
Who three days bearing him from Coast to Coast;  
Him on dry Land with horrid Roaring toast.  
When he to Nineveh does haste and cry  
Against them for their great Iniquity;  
Who concious of their Gild, bewail their Sin,  
And blunt God's Anger ere their woes begin.  
At which the Prophet being displeased, the Lord  
Shows him his folly, by a senseless ●ourd.    

A Dialogue between Nabuchadnezzar, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego.  
The Argument.  
Long tempted though in vain, good Men at last  
Are by the Tyrant bou●d in Fetters fast;  
Doomed to a ●iery Tr●all for his sake  
Who Heaven and Earth, the Sea, and all did make.  Nabuchadnezzar. 
How's this, can what I hear be true? dare ye you preverse Captives still deny to fall on bended Knees and kiss the ground, when you approach the Shrive of great Diana? Know you not she is a Goddess by your King adored, and humbly sought unto in all Events of Peace and War?  Shadrach. 
We know no God nor Goddess but the God of Jacob, whom with fear and Reverence we Serve, and to no other dare we, can we, will we bow.  Neb. 
What Insolence is this, is this an Answer fitting to return a Monarch? Know you not the great decree that is unalterably passed, and that your Lives are in my Hands.?  Meshach. 
All this w● know, nor would not, could we help it, disobey or disoblige the King; but in the thing be now requires, we dare not be compliant. The mighty God, in whose dread Presence now we stand, must be Obeyed rather than Man; we must not Rob him of his Honour and give it to an other.  Neb. 
And these are your Resolves, you will not Worship at the shrine of Gold I have set up? but dare preversly break the firm decree Established by the Princes.  Abed-nego. 
Our great Resolves, O King are past, and here we stand, do with us as you please:  Neb. 
Wretches, vile Slaves, whom I exaulted to heights of honour, in hopes you would comply with my Commands. How dare you trifle with a Monarch at this rate, when Death and Horror sit upon his frowns? I have been heitherto placeable mild, which makes you yet more obstinate: wherefore know that now all mercies Banished from my Breast; in crackling flames you shall be broiled alive, the fury of the fiery Furnace shall plainly speak the Anger I conceive: and who's then that God that shall deliver you out of my strong hands.  Shad. 
Your Anger, mighty Monarch, frights us not▪ nor are we careful to reply: For if the mighty God whom we Adore, the God who made all things, and 〈◊〉 whose will the World and all that move in it depend, 〈◊〉 let us fall to Glorify his Name; and in's Eternal Wisdom thinks it not convenient to rescue us from the devouring flames; know not withstanding, we'll patiently expire for his dear sake, rather than prostrate ourselves before base Idols, the vain work of mortal hands.  Neb. 
Horror and Death! her's insolence beyond degree: Heat, heat the burning Furnace with a Seavenfold Fire, and cast them instantly into the flames, that I may glut my well pleased Eyes to see them fry, and that their cries may prove sweet Music to my Ears; bind them in all their Gaitie to add more fuel to the Flames; and that the terror may b● more gird every ●art with strongest Chains, tha● they may be expossed the better to the circling Fires  Meshach. 
We smile to see a Monarch storm 〈◊〉 against those that are regardless of his Rage, and stand prepared to bear what ere his fury can inflict; though we in aught have not transgressed against him.  Neb. 
My Guards, why are you slow in executing my Commands? He dies that disobeys a moment longe●: So hence with 'em, whilst I and my Nobles follow to behold the Spectacle.  

The Conclusion.  
In flames the Servants of Jehovah's Cast,  
Their Chains fall off that lately bound them fast,  
Whilst the sharp Element does lose its heat,  
A whistling wind makes it a pleased retreat:  
The Execution that, that day was seen,  
Was on the Men that durst to cast them in:  
God saved his Chosen. And his Angels sent  
The Monarchs' Page to frustrate and prevent  
Whom be Amazed beholds to walk in Fire,  
With those that were the subject of his Ire;  
Calling them forth, on them he finds no harm,  
The gentle 〈◊〉 their Garments did not warm;  
Which strange stupendious great deliverance  
Converts his Rage to Love, and does advance,  
Jehovah's worth for the King's decree,  
Forbids loud to Praise to other Deity.    

A Dialogue between Darius and Daniel.  
The Argument.  
Daniel through envy is against the mind  
Of great Darius in a Den confined,  
With hungry L●ons who d● him no harm,  
God's Angel does their furious fury charm.  Darius. 
What horrid Dreams have terrified me 〈◊〉 my br●ken slumbers? How has sweet sleep fled ●●om my Eyes, and tedious toss made a restless night? Sure it was because the Prophet is in danger, from which a Monarch could not rescue him. But now the Morning Dawns, and I am at the fatal Den, into which malicious Men have cast him as a Prey to hungry Lions: I'll see if that great God he serves, has hitherto preserved him from their rage. O Daniel, Daniel! Servant of the highest, speak, it is a King your Friend that longs to hear your voice, which would be Music to his Ears. Say, say, has God, the God wh●m you have served been able to deliver you.  Daniel. 
Great Monarch live for ever, thy Servant is in safety; the God of Jacob, at whose tremendious name I bend me to the dust, has s●nt his Angel, and has closed the rending jaws of the stern Lions, causeing them to faun on me without a power to hurt, since integrity in me was found before him, nor in aught have I offended great Darius.  Darius. 
O welcome sound! And is my darling safe? Blessed, blessed, for ever be thy God, whose power has kept the cruelest of Beasts, from bathing th●ir stern Jaws in Blood of innocence. With speed, with speed; draw, draw him thence, draw out the man my Soul so much delights in. O let me embrace my Daniel, my dear Prophet! Whom the malice of ill-minded so far exposed to danger.  Daniel. 
Thus low I kneel to meet the favo●● great Darius does vouchsafe his Servant.  Darius. 
O Rise! My Love, my Life, my Soul; and say, how looked your stern associates, when you first took lodging in the Den.  Daniel. 
At first great King they roared aloud in expectation of decending prey, as being almost famished, but having at a distance glared on me with fiery Eyes they came and couched beneath my feet, fa●●ing and swingeing round their Tails, so tame that all appearance of their natural fierceness vanished, suffering me with much delight to stroke them and make pastime with curling Manes, nor was I ignorant whose power restrained their rage, but as I mused the Den at the top divided and a brightness shone throughout- the gloomy place, when as a man decended with refreshment for your Servant, brought by an Angel from a distant land: And the same way he came, returned, on which repast having well fed, I laid me down to slumber till your Royal voice awaked me.  Darius. 
Amazing, yea stupendiously amazing is what you relate, nor hence will Darius trust in any God but him, that has been able to deliver his much injured Servant, to him I will pay my vows, and Death shall be his Doom if subject to my Sceptre, that dares once bend his knee to any other Deity: Nor shall the malicious and revengeful men that durst traduce my Daniel scape dire vengeance, and not only they, but all that appertains to them of their cursed race, not one shall live, the Lions shall have plenty of their Blood. Than come my Faithful Friend, come to the Palace of thy Monarch, whilst I give command for the quick Execution of what ' I decree.  Daniel. 
Great Sir I'm all obedient, and with joyful steps thus wait upon my King, who has vouchsafed to load his Servant, with so many favours and next him whom I adore will make it my delight to do his just commands.  

The Conclusion.  
Daniel delivered and yet greater made,  
His foes the Murderous Lions soon invade,  
Breaking in pieces with resist less force,  
Their feeble Bodies, and their Souls divorce.  
Whilst a decree is sent through all the Coast,  
That each fall down before the Lord of Host.     

CHAP. XXVI. The Combats of Joseph for defence of his Chastity.  
THe Wife of Potiphar, to whom joseph was sold by the Ishmaelites, made it sufficiently appear, when she was so impudent, as to attempt the Chastity of her Servant; this Female Wolf had only Eyes to gaze on this Lamb, all his gestures and motions were artifices to entrap him; and she would have willingly preferred the inthrallment of joseph before the Command over her Husband▪ All her bonds of Marriage were but Chains which kept her in Captivity, and the most just, and most holy Laws imposed on her, a Yoke which rendered all the duties of fidelity, which Wives own unto their Husbands, insupportable to her.  
It is a strange thing that we can hardly trust ourselves, and that the Tongue dare not speak a word, or at least if she speaks, it is but after she hath pondered all her discourses. Wherefore the Eyes are the first solicitours of Evil, and then their silence hath an Eloquent voice, which is yet not heard, but by those that are Confederates.  
It is no wonder then, if joseph heard not this unchaste language, when his Mistress speak to him more from her Eyes than her Mouth. This impudent Creature cast a thousand glances on him: But the heart of joseph was a piece of Marble, which could not be pierced, all the Flames of this Egyptian Woman fell into a dead Sea, and all her lightnings found nothing but water which instantly quenched them.  
We must pass then further, and see whether the Mouth peradventure will have more powerful persuasions than the Eyes. This shameless Woman 〈◊〉 so much enraged as to declare her design.  
Courage than joseph, it is a Woman who assaults and solicits you! she is light, be you constant▪ she hath stratagems, be you prudent; she is bold, be you generous; she runs, fly away; she Flatters, disdain her; she asks, refuse her. joseph what do you say?  
For my part, saith he, I neither can nor will consent unto a Woman's Lascivious desires, 
Victorious Innocence.  nor submit unto her will, preferring it before that of my Master; and I should not be what I am, if I forfeited the quality of a faithful Servant, and of a Person to whom the honour and remembrance of the favours I have received from him, is a thousand times more precious than Life. If I have been sold, it was only for my Innocency, and the chains of my Captivity could never force the constancy an Hebrew ought to have in the way of virtue. I am jacob's Son, and my Actions shall never ●ely my Birth, I am a Servant, I ought to die for fidelity: Your Husband trusts me with all his Goods, and with all his Wealth, which the favour of the King, and his own meri●s have bestowed on him; he reserved only to himself the solely Enjoying you: it is not for me then to r●vish from him what is due by so many titles. Command me with justice, and I will serve you with sincerity; perform all that you ought, and I will omit no part of my duty to you. Keep yourself within the Laws of Marriage, and leave me in the duties of my condition. I should be ungrateful if I abused the favours of my Master, I should be a thief if I stole away his fairest goods, and no death could be cruel enough to punish me, if I should attempt on that which is more dear to him than life. All you flames can find in me but a heart of water and ice, and all your eyes cannot enthral the liberty of my min●, and your rigours will never mollify a soul on which God hath imprinted his love and fear. Know then that I would rather choose to die free from blame, than to live a complice in your disloyalty. I prefer my bondage if it be innocent, before all unjust Powers; and what misfortune soever befall me, I shall be too happy▪ if I remain innocent. It was in the power of my Brethren to sell my Body, but they could not engage my Soul; I may serve without prostituting myself, and my glory will ever be illustrious enough if I shall do no dishonourable act, and unworthy of my Extraction. In fine, I adore a God who hath most pure eyes, and should all Creatures be blind, it satisfies me, that he be the witness of my actions; I reverence all his decrees, and if all the judges of ●he World could authorize vice, it would comfort me to have a God always armed to punish them. How can you wish me then to bring Adultery into your Family, and to change your bed, which ought to be the Altar of your glory, 
Angelical Resolution.  into an infamous Pile? No, no Madam, either leave honour to me with life, or take from me my life, & leave me my honour.  
Is not this to speak like an Angel, and to have the sentiments of those spirits who live in flames without being consumed, and amidst Lightnings without being dazzled.  
But now such was the Devil of this Epyptian Woman, 
The Devil of Egypt.  who so eagerly pursued joseph, he was an insolent▪ importunate & furious companion. His rage notwithstanding had by fits some relaxation, he knew the art of dissembling, and to be silent for a time; his Element was solitude, and the night his refuge, he sighed always after joseph, and nothing pleased him when he was absent. In fine, he seems to have the power, to possess this Soul if she be alone, and if all witnesses be drawn aside.  
Beware then joseph, what you do; you are alone, you are young, you are beautiful, and Esteemed. Remember that the eyes of Women dart as many lightnings as glances; call to mind that their mouths shed honey and poison, and that their tongues cast more dangerous darts than Adders: Contemn then what ever this impudent Creature can say unto you.  
She will peradventure say she is your Mistress, and that you ought to obey her; And that if she affect you, you cannot hate her; and if she seek you, you have no reason to fly from her; she will conjure you to tell her, what in her displeaseth you. Since she omits nothing that may content you, and without injustice you cannot refuse her one single favour she expects from you; especially she being ready, on her part, to grant all that you can ask of her. There is no colour, she will not employ to represent unto you her passion; and her Eyes though silent, will swear to you, that they have often enough spoken to you, when her mouth durst not utter a word: that if it were possible, she would believe that she hath by her words manifested to you all the thoughts of her Soul, when they might have been kept secret: Besides, she will flatter you, saying, you have refused her that out of prudence, which now you ought to grant her through love and goodness. Moreover, if you fear any thing, she will assure you that she hath foreseen all that may expose you unto danger.  
In fine, she will entreat, that if she hath no fortunes in the World, which are not at your disposure, you would yet receive her respect and affections to render you mor● absolute and independent, concluding by all these reasons, that you must at last satisfy her, either by violence, or sweetness, and that she will have either honour or life, death or consent.  
Mean while let us see I beseech you, what strong endeavours are used to stay him. They flatter him, they praise him, they love him, they honour him, they conjure him, they threaten him, they make him promises. What will you have, and what more can be done to gain him, and po●●ess his affections? Entreaties have hitherto received but refusals, Allurements disdains, and threats constancy, and neglect.  
In fine, this furious Woman being no longer able to restrain her passion, an attempt must be made o● the life of him whose honour she could not wound▪ she leaps on his neck, as it were to strangle him, but presently joseph flies away, and leaving his garment in her hands, she had but the Feathers of this Bird which she thought to detain in her nests.  
Behold then all her designs defeated; joseph i● escaped, he is in safety, and out of the reach of this ravenous She-wolf, which pursued him.  
This enraged Woman seeing then that joseph wa● fled, and that he had only left her his Cloak, resolved at the instant to revenge this affront, and accuse him whom she knew to be too pure to excuse himself.  
This Dame cried out first, and the fear she hath to be accused, is the occasion she takes those for Witnesses of her innocency, who could have prevented her. After all, seeing her Husband at her Door, help saith she, to what am I reduced? A●▪ who hath given me for a Servant an importunate Devil, who persecutes me beyond measure? Ah▪ my Husband, my Friend, what have you done? And what a perfidious man have you given me? Is it peradventure to try my Loyalty and Virtue? tell me, I pray, what is your intention? and whether you keep him in the quality of a Servant or Companion? For my part I esteem it as a great honour to be your Handmaid, and yet I conceive not myself obliged to obey your meanest Servant. He hath been nevertheless so presumptuous in your absence to sport with me, and take the place you hold in my heart. No, I swear by the respect I owe you, that I would have strangled him if my strength had been answerable to my will; but he is escaped, and seeing I called for help, he left his garment in my hands.  
Immediately this man giving too much credit to the discourse of his Wife, without inquiry, whether what she said was true or false, caused joseph 〈…〉 stayed, and commanded him to be put in 〈…〉  

Wh●● 〈…〉 Egyptian Lady did invite  
Well favoured Joseph to unchaste delight,  
How well the motion and the place agreed!  
A beastly place, and 'twas a beastly Deed:  
A place well seasoned for so foul a sin;  
Too sweet to serve so foul a Master in.   

Ioseph's Speech to his Brethren.  
Go fetch your Brother (saith th' Egyptian Lord)  
If you intent our Garners shall afford  
Your craving wants their so desired supplies;  
If He come not, by Pharaoh's life y'are Spies:  
Even as your suits expect to find our Grace.  
Bring Him, or dare not to behold my face:  
Some little food to serve you on the way,  
We here allow, but not to feed delay;  
When you present your Brother to our hand,  
Y● shall have plenty and possess the Land,  
Away, and let your quick obedience give  
The earnest of your Faiths, do this and live:  
If not, your wilful wants must want supply,  
For ye are Spies, and ye shall surely die:  
Great God, the Egyptian Lord resembles Thee  
The Brother's Jesus, and the Suitors We.    

CHAP. XXVII. Giving an Account of the wonderful manner of Pharaoh's being swallowed up in the Red-Sea.  
AND now methinks I see Pharaoh with all his Egyptian forces ready to be swallowed up in the Billows of an unexorable Element, which will open its waves to make a dreadful Sepulchre 〈◊〉 ●his cruel and disastrous Tyrant, about whom 〈◊〉 most holy sweetness and the most amiable patience ●f Heaven is wearied.  
Having then received news that the Israel●●●● ●ere encamped upon the side of a little Hill situated between the Fort of Magdalin and the Red-Sea, and ●ery near Mount Beelsophon: He believed this wa●●●e best way to surround them; and that in 〈◊〉 ●●ese Rocks, Dungeons and Seas, serve but for 〈◊〉 ●rge▪ Grave to bury them, and to extinguish 〈…〉 the name and memory of this People, which 〈◊〉 occasioned to him so many misfortunes. He sal-gem at least in a condition to die of Hunger and thirst, after he had engaged them all in ' these bad ●●ssages, or reduced them to the necessity of yield●●●●, and returning unto the same servitude out o●●●ich they thought themselves delivered: But no●●●ng being able to resist this wise hand which levels 〈◊〉 most rugged paths, makes strait all crooke●●●ys, and Arms invisible Troops, and the 〈◊〉 ●●●erfull squadrons, went on conducting this 〈…〉 Prince directly into the Abyss, where he 〈…〉 to precipitate the Israelites; and the I 〈…〉 in which he prepares to enclose these 〈…〉 was the sepulchre of his life, and the 〈…〉 Rock towards which his power and greatness advanced to be dashed in pieces.  
Poor Worldly Men, unhappy Egyptians, you who bandy against Heaven, and make War against the Almighty, how we●k are your designs, and how rash are your enterprises? Whither think you to go with so great a train, with such a convoy, with so much Baggage, and so much noise? whither think you to conduct all the●e Instruments of horror and threats? Are you not afraid that the lightnings of Heaven and the Billows of the Ocean, will conspire against you? And that at length the same lot will befall yo● as unto Pharaoh, who being accompanied with hi● bravest Captains, and followed by all the Chariot of Egypt, went pursuing Moses and the Hebrew● when these poor People no longer knowing on wh●● side to turn themselves, and with an Eye of pitt● beholding their Conductor, began to say unto hi● with weeping and trembling hearts.  
Ah Moses! Why have you brought us into this So●●tary place? Are there not Tombs enough in Egy●● without coming to seek them in this de●art? Alas! whe●● are we? and did we not tell you, that it were much b●●●ter to live in the service of the Egyptians, than to 〈◊〉 in these savage places destitute of all human Succours?  
Courage my Friends, answered Moses, you must 〈◊〉 nothing, for God hath determined to make his power ●●●pear in your favour, and all these Enemy's which p●●●sue you, are even ready to perish b●fore your Eyes; 〈◊〉 when you hold your Arms across, and your Mouth is 〈…〉 vengeance will Thunder over their Heads, and 〈…〉 which hath a thousand armed hands will 〈…〉 in an instant.  
In effect, 〈◊〉 soon as Moses had lifted up his 〈…〉 Mouth and hands towards Heaven, his voice 〈…〉 made so loud an Echo, as God himself 〈…〉, what moved him to such violent Clam●● though he were not ignorant of it; But he did this to excite him the more, and more strongly to invite him to pass the sea.  
Thus then did Moses cry out speaking unto God, and his prayer, saith Josephus, was in this manner.  
O Lord, these Seas, and these Mountains are yours, and ready to obey the least of your Commands. They may 〈◊〉 us then to pass; and it rests only in you, that we 〈◊〉 our flight in the Air like Birds, and find a Sanctuary in every place where you ordain.  
No, no, Moses, saith God, March in the head of your Troops, and when you approach near the Sea, lift up your Rod, stretch forth your arm upon the billows, that 〈◊〉 may cut them in two, and cause all your Company to 〈◊〉 over without wetting their f●●t. Meanwhile I will harden pharoahs heart, who following you, shall 〈◊〉 as a subject unto my Glory, to raise unto itself 〈◊〉 eternal trophy upon the 〈◊〉 of this proud Element; which must submit unto my Laws and Commands. Hence- 〈…〉 Lord, and that when I please, I can make 〈…〉, and their whole train become the 〈…〉 of an eternal reproach.  
At the same time the Angel of God which conducted the people of Israel 〈…〉 during the 〈◊〉, and by a Christ in the day, we●t to a place 〈…〉 between the two Armies, casting forth rays slight, and a pleasing shallow upon the Israel 〈…〉, whilst it 〈◊〉 the Egyptians with a tenebrous 〈◊〉, and a thick darkness, which left them only 〈◊〉 glimmering to follow their enemies, whom ne●ertheless they could not discern.  
In 〈◊〉, as this 〈◊〉 Light and Darkness 〈…〉 to the orders it hath received, the Spi●●t which animated this miraculous body, divided the 〈◊〉 in two parts, and made a large passage through 〈◊〉 Waves, to cause all these troops to march in safe●●, which were ushered by a hot and violent wind which left not one drop of water upon the Sand. This was an admirable prospect, and a spectacle worthy the eyes and h●nds of the Almighty God. And truly when did we e●er see so many millions of men (without counting their baggage) pa●sing from midnight till morning between banks of Christ ●ll, and mountains of Water, where by means of the light and rays of this illuminated Pillar, a man would have sworn that there had been a thousand little Suns?  
Let us look now upon Pharaoh, who having ranged his Tribes by compani●●, and in order, begins to lift up his hand toward the Sea, which at the same time made all these liquid bulwarks, and floating arches, it had suspended in the Air, to roll down, so that all the Egyptians, who had advanced too far, were swallowed up, with all their Chariot's an● baggage. The great God of Moses, and of the Israe●lites, having made use of this miraculous elevation of the Waves, to make for them a deep Abyss, and to erect a trophy for those who have but the Victims of their fury; it was also through the flames which form the Pillar of fire, that the revenging looks of Justice gave them their last assignations, and that her hand overthrew their Chariots, a d dismounted all these Wheels, to make a lamentable shipwreck of all their pompous and magnificent preparation which attended them. In si●e, these blind people discerned that God was against them, and for the Israelites; but too late, for whe● th●y thought to escape by flight, they perceived that the elements, and total nature had revolted against th●m, and that they could have no longer any refuge or retreat, but under the waves of the Ocean.  
In fine, Pharaoh is drown●d, this great Dragon is dead, his rage is satiated; he hath h●ard the voice of Thunder, and Thunder hath broken the wheels of his Chariot; He is no more, or at lest is groaning and despairing in a Pool of Sulphur, in a Sea of flames, and in an Eternity of Punishment. Moses and the Israelites on the banks of the shore, and in a Paradise of delights 〈◊〉 Canticles of joy and Songs of triumph, to render thanks unto God for their deliverance. Which they do in the following manner: Saying,  
Let us sing, Let us sing Victory: And let it be every where known, that it is the great God of Israel who hath freed us from Irons, and from the slavery under which we have so 〈…〉. He hath loosened our fetters, he hath broken our Chains, and thrown both Horses and Ri●●rs, Pharaoh and his Troops, Egypt and ●er Chariot's, into the bottom of the Sea.  
Grant then, O Lord! that at the entry into this desert, our Enemies may 〈◊〉 such a horror as may render them insensible, and unable to hurt us, until we are on 〈◊〉 Land of Promise, and in our Country where thou wilt 〈◊〉 us as flowers of Paradise, and as so many slips of 〈…〉. Our Conquerors are already vanquished, and all strangers are affrighted. The Philistians already 〈…〉, all the Princes of 〈◊〉 are 〈◊〉: Fear hath 〈…〉 on the minds of the most Courageous, and the 〈◊〉 even of 〈◊〉 are become as bodies without So●ls or resentment.  
〈◊〉 them with f●ar and terror, whilst we shall 〈◊〉 with joy and delight into thy Sanctuary. Mean●●●●● reign in the Ages of Ages, and if it may be, even ●●yond Eternity: For in fine, Pharaoh is no more, and 〈◊〉 all that he ever was, there scarce remains so much as 〈…〉 of it, and none but Mariners shall find some 〈◊〉 of those Chariots, which shall be seen upon this 〈◊〉, where he intended to erect his Trophy, his Throne, 〈…〉 fairest hopes.  
Well then my faithful Companions, let us sing victo●●, l●t us sing together you chaste Virgins of judea, 〈◊〉 Daughters of Zion, holy Souls, let us sing Canticles 〈◊〉 joy, in honour of him who is our Redeemer; Lucifer 〈◊〉 fallen from his Throne; the Dragon is swallowed up in the billows of the Sea, and all these Traitors, who intended to drown us, are overwhelmed with the waves, and wher● they thought to gather Laurels, and Palms, they found nothing but an harvest overspread with Cypress, and a vast Sepulchre in the bottom of the Sea, where they propose to themselves to erect a Theatre of 〈◊〉, and a field of Triumph.  

On Jacob's Purchase.  
How 〈◊〉 was Jacob's motion, and how strange  
〈…〉 how 〈…〉 was th'exchange!  
〈…〉 inheritance?  
Why could not hungry Esau strive t'enhaunce  
His price a 〈◊〉? So much under foot;  
Well might he give him broth and drink too boot:  
An easy price! the cas● is even our own;  
For toys we often sell our Heaven, our Crown.   

On Esau.  
When hast thou 〈◊〉; Nay, what shall Esau do?  
L●st both his Birthright and his Blessing too!  
〈◊〉 hath poor Esau l●st but empty tears,  
And plain●● 〈◊〉 cannot reach th● old Man's ears?  
What wi●● the Father's Di●● and thine own.  
The Birthright's 〈◊〉 and thy blessing's gone:  
How does one mischief overtake another?  
In both, how overtaken by a Brother?  
Could their imperious stomach but have stayed,  
And if thy Father's had not been delayed,  
Thou hadst not need have wept and pleaded so,  
But kept thy Birthright and thy Bl●ssing too.  
Had thy unprosperous, thy unlucky hand  
Dispatched thy Venison, as it did thy Land,  
Thy sorrows had not made so great a heap;  
That had not been so dear, nor this so cheap:  
Had thine given place but to thy Father's will,  
thou'dst thy Birthright, and thy Blessing still.   

On Jacob's Pillow.  
The Bed was Earth, the raised Pillow Ston●s,  
Whereupon poor Jacob rests his Head, his Bones;  
Heaven was his Canopy; the 〈◊〉 of night  
Were his drawn Curtains, to exclude the Light;  
Poor state of Isaack's heir! it seems to me,  
His Cattle found as soft a Bed as he:  
〈◊〉 God appeared there his 〈◊〉, his Crown;  
God us not always seen in Beds of Down;  
O, if that God, shall please to make my Bed,  
I care not where I r●st my Bones, my Head;  
Wi●h thee, 〈◊〉 wants can never prove extreme,  
With Jacob's Pillow, give me Jacob's Dream.   

On Zacheus.  
Methinks, I see, with what a 〈…〉.  
Zacheus climbed the Tr●e: But, O how ●ast,  
〈◊〉 full of speed, canst thou imagine (〈◊〉  
Our saviour called) be powdered down again!  
〈◊〉 ne'er made trial, if the boughs were ●ound,  
Or rotten; nor how far 'twas to the ground:  
T●●re was no danger feared; at such a Call,  
He'll venture nothing, that dare fear to fall,  
Needs must he down, by such a Spirit driven,  
Nor could he fall unless he fell to Heaven.  
Down came Zacheus ravished from the Tree,  
Bird that was shot ne'er dropped so quick as he.  
Short Legged Zacheus, 'twas the happiest Tree  
That ever mortal climbed, I mean to thee;  
Thy pains in going up, received the Crown  
Of all thy labour at thy coming down:  
Thy Statute's lowness gave thee fair occasion  
To mount that Tree, that Tree, to find Salvation:  
But was't the Tree, Zac●eus? No, 'twas he,  
Whose bleeding Body died upon the Tree.  
W●ll climbed Zacheus, '●was a step w●ll given:  
From hence to th● Tree, and from the Tr●e to Heaven.   

On Abraham's pleading for S●dom.  
●ow ●●ath was righteous Abraham to cease,  
To ●eat the price of 〈…〉 p●ace!  
M●●k how his h●ly boldness interc●pts  
God●s justice; brings his mercy down by steps:  
He dares not bi● so few as ten at ●irst;  
Nor yet from fifty righteous p●rsons, dared  
Hi● zeal, on sudden, mak● too great a fall,  
Although he wished Sal●ation to them all.  
〈…〉 thy dying Son has Pow●'r to clear,  
A Wo●ld of Sin, t●at one shall not appear  
●●f●re thine angry Eyes: What wonder then,  
To s●e thee fall, from fifty d●wn to ten!   

On the Egyptians Famine.  
Mark but the course the pined Egyptians r●n:  
W●en all th●ir Coi●, when all their Corn is go●  
Th●y come to Ios●ph, and their stomach's plea●  
Th●y change their Beasts for Corn, the ay 〈…〉 Bread;  
Yet still the● want: Observe now what they 〈◊〉  
They give their Lands, & yield their Body's to●  
Now they have Corn enough; and now they sh●●  
Have Seed to Sow their barren Soil withal;  
Provided that the fi●●h of their Increase  
Be Pharo●'s: Now their stomaches are at pea●●  
Thus when the Famine of the World shall strike  
Our hungry Souls: our Souls must do the like.  
We first must part with, (as by their directions)  
Our Flocks our Beasts, our Bestial affections;  
When they are gone, and then must sinners do?  
Give up their Lands, their Souls and Bodies too;  
O, than our hearts shall be refreshed and fed,  
We shall have Seed to sow, and present Bread:  
Allowing but the fifth of our Increase,  
We shall have plenty, and our Souls have peace.  
How art thou pleased, good God, that Man should live,  
How slow art thou to take! how free to give!   

On Gods Law.  
The sacred Law of God,  
Is like to Moses Rod:  
If we but keep it in our hand  
It will do wonders in the Land;  
If we ●light and throw it to the ground,  
'Twill turn a Serpent, and inflict a Wound.  
● Wound that Flesh and Blood cannot endure,  
Nor salve, until the brazen Serpent cure:  
I wish not Lord, thou shouldst withhold it  
Nor would I have it, and not hold it:  
O teach me then, my God,  
To handle Moses Rod.   

On Balaam's Ass.  
●he Ass that for her slowness was forbid  
●o be employed in God's service, did  
perform good service now in being slow;  
●he Ass received stripes, but would not go:  
She balked the way, and Balaam could not guid● her:  
The Ass had far more wisdom than the Rider:  
The Message being bad, the Ass was loath  
To be the bearer: 'twas a happy Sloth;  
'Twas well for Balaam: had his Ass but tried  
Another step, Balaam had surely dy●d.  
Poor Ass! And was thy faithful service paid  
With 〈◊〉- repeated stro●kes? Hat'st thou obeyed  
Thy Lo●d had bought thy travel with his bloo●  
Such is M●rs pa●ment, often bad f●r good:  
Th● Ass begins to question with his Master,  
Argues th● case, pleads why he went no faster▪  
Nay, sh●w him M●st●ries, far beyond his reach▪  
Sure God wants Prophets, when dull A●s Preach▪  
The Ass perceives the Angel, and falls down;  
When Balaam sees him not, or sees unknown:  
Nor iced a won●●r this: God's Spirit did pass  
From blindfold Balaam into Balaam's Ass.   

David's Epitaph on Jonathan.  
Here li●s the fairest Flower that stood  
In Isra●ls Garden; now in Bloo●:  
Which Death to make her Garland gay,  
Hath ●r●pt, against her Triumph-day:  
Here, h●re, lies ●e whose Actions penned,  
The perfect Cop● of a Fri●nd:  
Wh●se milk white Vellum did i●ear  
No least suspicion of a Blur:  
Here lies the example of a Brother  
Not to be followed by another:  
The fair intended Counterpart  
Of David's jo●, of David's heart.  
R●st then, for ever rest alone,  
Thy Ashes can be touched by n ne,  
Till Death hath picked ou● such another?  
Here lies a Flower, a Friend, a Brother.   

On Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.  
It spreads the sweet perfume of Solomon's Fame,  
Affects the Coasts; and his Illustrious Name  
Cannot be hid: the unbelieved report  
Must fly with Eagles wings to th'honoured Court  
Of Princely Sheba: Sheba must not rest,  
Until her eyes become th'invited Guest,  
Of Fame's loud Trumpet; her Impatience strives  
With light foot Time, while her Ambition drives  
Her Chariot-wheels, and give an airy passage  
To th'quick delivery of her heart's Embassage:  
True Wisdom, planted in the hearts of Kings,  
Needs no more glory than the glory 't brings;  
And like the Sun is viewed by her own light,  
B●ing by her own reflection, made more bright:  
The emulous Queen's arrived she gone to the Court,  
No eye-delighting Masque, nor pricely sport,  
To entertain her? No, her eye, her ear  
●s take up, and scorns to see, to hear  
●n●eriour things; She allows her ear, her eye  
No less than Oracles and Majesty:  
●ow empty pastimes do desolve and fly  
To th●ir true nothing, when true wisdom's by!  
Th' arrived Queen has audience, moves disputes▪  
Wi●e Solomon attends replies, confutes;  
●he objects, he answers; she afresh propounds;  
●he proves, maintains it, he decides, confounds  
●he smiles, she wonders, being over-dazed,  
●ith his bright beams, stands silent, stands amazed.  
●ow Scripture-like Apocrypha's appear  
●o common Books! how poor, when Scripture's near!  
The Queen is pleased who never yet did know  
The blast of Fa●e less prodigal▪ than now;  
For now the greatest part of what she known  
By Fame, is sound the least of what is true;  
We ●ften find that Fame in prime of Youth:  
Do●s add to Falsehood, and subtract from truth,  
T●e thankful Queen does with a liberal hand,  
Pr●●ent him with the Riches of h●r La●d,  
Where wisdom go●s before, we often find  
Th●t temporal Blessings s●ldom slay behind:  
Lord, g●ant me Wisdom, and I shall possess  
Enough, have more, or have content with less.   

On Job's Temptation.  
God questions Satan: Bo●●s is Iob's desert,  
In the perfection of a simple heart.  
I●b's Faith was fervent; S●tan was as i'll  
To yield it▪ but must yield against his wi●●;  
Condems it to be servile, to be bought  
With God's own coin: Does job serve God 〈◊〉 nought?  
It is a common trick the Te●per uses▪  
The Faith he cannot conquer, he abuses.  
Alas, that ●aith requires not so much praise,  
'Tis a good Faith, as Faiths go now adays:  
It is not strengthened by the indulgent hand  
That blessed his Labours, and enriched his Land,  
Puff out the Fire; his Faith will quickly i'll:  
Satan puff tho●: nay, Satan puff thy will:  
Nor 〈◊〉, nor ●lou●▪ of small, or great estate,  
Are certain ba●g●s of God's love or hate.  
What's now to do? Poor job must be 〈◊〉  
Of all his stronger Herd●; Fire, sent from 〈◊〉  
Must burn his fruitful Flocks, that none 〈◊〉  
His house fall and all his Childer'n slain;  
And yet not curse? Alas poor job addresses  
His thoughts to heaven, he worships God ● blesses:  
The lively Faith that can retain her God▪  
May groans but seldom rave beneath the Rod.  
But what says Satan now? The hedge is broke,  
That fenced my Servant job? What further Cloak  
For his uprightness hath he? What pretence  
For his continual Love and Innocence?  
Has not thy malice had her own desire?  
'Twas sound puffed, thy puffs has blown the fire:  
Gods trials are like bellows: Satan's blower,  
Blows out false Faiths, makes true ones blaze the more:  
True, Lord, his faith is tough; but Snails as well  
Can thrive without, as live within their shell:  
To save alive who would not lose some skin?  
Touch but his Horns, O how he'll draw them in.  
Satan, I give thy malice leave, be free  
To peel the Bark, but spare to touch the Tree;  
Fear not the li●● flock: The greatest ill  
Your f●es can does to scratch: They cannot kill:  
What now's th' exploit? Afflicted job does lie,  
A very Hospital of ●●●sery:  
I think that all the Ulcers, that have been  
In Egypt cured are broken out again  
In his distempered flesh; job is still  
The very same, not charged ●is God with ill.  
A Faith th●t lodges in a double Breast,  
May stand the touch, non●●ut true faith the Test.  
If these be flames poor man must swelter in,  
He needs a World of patience, not to sin.   

On Solomon's Rejoice.  
Young Man, Rejoice: What jolly mirth is here;  
Let thy heart char thee; What deli●ious Cear?  
In thy young days; Thy ca●es will relish swe●ter  
Walk thy own ways; Thy cares will pass the ●leeter:  
Please●t● own heart; Carve where it likes thee best:  
Delight thine Eyes; And be a joyful Guest:  
But know withal, the day will come, whereon  
Thy judge will doom thee for the deeds thoust done:  
O what a Feast! O what a Reck'ning's here!  
The Cates are sweet; the Shot's extremely dear:  
Lord, I have been, and am, a daily Guest  
(Too oft invited) at the Youngman's Feast?  
The reckoning's great; although I cannot pay,  
I can confess; Great God, before this day,  
I had been dragged to the redeemless Jail,  
Hadst thou not pleased t'accept my Saviour's Bail;  
Lord, he must bear't, I doubt, for I can get  
Nor Coin to pay, nor labour out the debt:  
I cannot Dig, my Joints are stark and lame:  
But I can Beg, although I beg with shame;  
I have no Grace in begging; can receive  
The first repulse; I have no Faith to crave:  
If the entertainments of the Feast be these!  
Lord, give me Famine, take the Feast, that please.    

CHAP. XXVIII. Choice remarks upon daniel's being cast into the Lions Den.  
HOly▪ Daniel was once chief in commission under great Darius, the very first Minister of state. Thus you have him in the Zenith of his Honours, Lord high Precedent over all the Kings, Councils and Treasures, next and immediately under himself supreme Governor, together with ●he reason which justifies the King's great Prudence ●nd Policy in promoting him to so high degree, viz. Because an Excellent Spirit was found in him—. He was every 〈◊〉 qualified for his station.  
But this mighty preferment soon contracts an uni●versal Envy upon him from those whose dim Eye could n●t see, or whose cankered Spirits would no● weigh his merits in a Righteous S●ale. The Hi● of Honour i● dangerously tro●, though by neve● so ●air and meritorious Fe●t. Envious Men hat● to acknowledge a worth beyond their own, and loo● with a squint Eye on all above themselves. The pro●motion that f●lls not ●n their own Heads, grieve● their Hearts, an● i● plotted against.  
Yet safely may the Heavenly Aspirer fix h●● steps while he has no Competitor to contend wit● him; and few are emulous of the Celestial Crown The four and twenty▪ elders may pass an Eternity e'ro any below disturb their Honours, while wea●● Eyes wax sore at the sight but of a Corone●● though Darius himself had stuck it on.  
They sought to find occ●sion, etc. And methinks fancy them sitting in ●lose Consult ●gainst him, an● ransacking every In●h of his Life and Manners. N● an under-officer, but is brought in and strictly ex●●min'd upon Oath, if possibly the lest defect mig●● be found in his Managements or Accounts: And perhaps the very Attendants of his Family Bribed 〈◊〉 Menaced into an unreserved con●ession and discl●●sure of the daily Customs of his House, nay 〈◊〉 those of his very Oratory and Bedchamber. 〈◊〉 must the freedom of his Table ●e allowed him u●●purge●. ●f probably even there but a Syllable mig●● escape him, which may be Artificially interpret into Treason, or wrenched (but) into the mispris●● of it; or but any thing which might bear the lea● shadow or Reflection of dishonour or damage to t●● great P●rson, Dignity or Interest of his Roy●● Master.  
But when now after all this, nothing is squeez● out that can (though but) colourably charge him; how do they fret and vex, and are ready to indict even his Care and his Caution? And are vexed that they want Eyes to penetrate into the v●ry recesses of his Soul. For it may be, there might sculk some Traitorous and Disloyal thought, which gladly would they tear out from his Heart, and produce in evidence against him. But if, even that he White and Innocent too, they again wax mad, and curse his very Loyalty and Truth, and could wi●h that his Snowy Innocence would take a Crimson Dye, and be (though but superficially) Criminal▪ They ●ought occasion but could find none, forasmuch as he was faithful— Neither was there any error or fault found in him, Chap. 6.4.  
But now what a plague is it to envy innocence, and ●o make another's Health ones own Disease? Is the thine Eye evil because mine is Good?  
Yet for ever ●e it remarked, to the Honour of ●hese eager Conspirators, that the height of this ●eavourish rage did not distemper them into the distraction of perjurious Revenges, nor the detestable contrivances of Subornation against Daniel. They will not Damn Souls to destroy Bodies. Their ●ery Heathen Consciences boggled at that Hellish practise.  
And now very despair make these Plotters witty, ●hey alt●r the measures of their Counsels. And ●●nce nothing can be discovered defective in his allegiance to his Prince, they will wove a Net that ●hall ensnare him in the exactness of his obedience ●o his God. Hi● very Devotions shall be twisted ●●to a Cord t●at shall strangle him. And if he dare ●y servi●● to ●is M●ker, even that shall be High ●reason against his King And (to s●ve ●hem the la●our) h● sh●ll 〈◊〉 ●im●●lf ●nto the Gr●ve. For, 〈◊〉 th●se men, w● sh●ll find n● o●●●sion against this ●aniel, except we find it against him concerning the ●●w of his God, verse 5.  
But I would wish no greater Judgement upon Plotters than to find them bending their Wits against Heaven, whi●h is ever engaged to destroy them, f●r its own security and Honour. Nor can an Arrow be shot against Piety without hitting God himself directly in the Face. Since all that is in the Worl● is but his reflection upon the Soul, and he is as much in one Beam or Ray of his Holiness that shines in the Creature below, as in the whole Sun of it that makes Glory above. The Malic● that wounds a Saint, would destroy the Deity if it could.  
How do I see them Chuckle, and ●less their Wits in this new contrivance. A Plot so tightly woven, that there is no room for so much as the least fear or jealousy of its miscarriage and failure. They question not the success in the least. Daniel must turn Atheist to prevent the danger; and forsake his God, or his Life.  
Projecting Heads may Plot together, and jumble out a decree of Death. Y●t to as little Reputation or Issue, as a Club of Physicians that vote that disease to be Mortal, which Heaven cures by a ●igg.  
The Decree is universally agreed on by daniel's Enemies. And the Monarch addressed for his Royal A●●ent. They Enact him a God (by Law) upon Earth, and make it Death to acknowledge another in Heaven. They put a trouble upon hi●, to receive all the addresses of Men, and 〈◊〉 thirty Holidays for all his fellow Deities to re●t i●: Whosoever shall ask ● Petition of any God ●r Man f●r thirty Days, save of thee, O Kin●. etc. vers. 7.  
D●rius consults not his Cabal to unriddle this Flattery in his Nobles, mu●h less d●e▪ he apprehend any treacherous design in the bottom, but is willing to interpret it pure Loyalty, and a Politic advance of his Glory, and greater security in his Empire now at his first approaches u●to it; and therefore easily inclines to the proffered Honour; and (since they will have it so) is content to justle out his Maker from his Throne for a Month. Therefore God punished his rash and unadvised Folly and Pride, whose hand Signs the Decree which afterwards makes his Soul to Ache, and because he did not sleep on't, anon cannot; and endangered the breaking his Heart, as well as his sleep.  
The Sagacious Daniel quickly penetrates through this shallow desig●. He easily sees the Warrant for his own Execution written on the backside of this plausible De●ree, yet will not prevent it. His great Soul bids defiance to it, and them that framed it. He scorns to live when he cannot serve his God▪ y●t will serve him: though he die for it. He will not neglect his Duty for thirty days together, no not to save his Bloo●. But resolves rather to pass into Immortality to serve him there.  
The King having passed the Law— The Trepanners begin to s●eak about D●ni●ls Lodgings. Malice degenerated them into Eavesdroppers, they creep up and down un●er his very Win●ows. If the Casement chance to s●ye open, the project thrives, their hopes swell, and the Blood caper's in their Veins. And he (brave Spirit) opens it on purpose, to let them see and know that he dreaded not their impious Law, nor would slack an A●e of his daily Zeal and devotion to his God; and thi● he di●, When he knew, that the Writing was signed, vers 10. 'Twas below his great Person and Spirit to deny or dissemble his Religion. Faith and Love makes him trusty to it, against all Conspiracies of Men or De●vils.  
And what know we, but some were so impudent as to steal up Stairs and peep through the very Keyhole to discover (but) the first motion towards a Genuflection. But when those Sacred joints incline to bend to the resolved Worship, how greedily do they suck in the very first Spiration, and preparatory sighs?  
But (brave Belshazzar!) how little do we know what various Passions agitate thy Sacred Breast at this time? What contests between Nature and Gr●●e, ●lesh and Spirit? Or were't thou all Soul and transported beyond the cares and remembrance of thy Mortal and suffering part, that I hear thee 〈◊〉 into su●h Rap●ures as the●e?  
Wha●! a●d must I forsake my God now, or not Live? 
Spirit.  and forsake him too upon such unhappy Terms as th●se, to gratify the wishes of these malicious confederating Heathens? Is Devotion become fatal, and must Pra●er itself kill? Cannot I go to my God, but the next st●p must be to the Grave? 'Tis worse than D●ath to live ●ut one day, without him who i● the Life of my Soul▪ how then sh●ll I live thirty? Must I w●ar these 〈◊〉 upon min● affections and ●ips, which th●se Men● envy and can●ing h●ve clapped on me, with design to enslave me f●r ever? R●ther let 〈◊〉 Beasts tear ●p●n a passage for this Captive within me 〈◊〉 p●ss into th● liberties of everlastingness, than thus to b● Caged up in so insufferable a Vassalage! Do they think to immure up my Soul? Let th●m r●n● me from the Court of Da●iu●, my Heaven is not there, as is ●●eirs; my Bod● is the Kings to his pleasure and service, but my Soul is Gods unto his. 〈◊〉 venture an enlargement into the Bowels of the Lion's, ere they shall ●l●ry over mine Apostasy from my Religion and my God.  
But hold! whither does this Noble but Temerarious Zeal transport th●e Daniel? 
Flesh.  Is this th● kindness to thy dearest self? An● hast thou no regard to the Glorious and sweets ●f Life? Is that Holy Fire, that devours its own Altar? And call●st thou that Zeal that hurls thee into nothing, and temps thee to an Annihilation? Is Death so desirable? and such a Death as will gratify thine Enemies too? Whose M●lice will Feast itself on thy Ruins, with greater Luxury than the Lion's Banquet on thy Flesh? What is this but to Execute the Plot against thine own Life, which they cannot perfect without thee? and will thy God thank thee for destroying thy s●lf, and throwing ●way thy life for ● Nicety, the Ceremony an● Carked of Devotion, which his Grace is so r●ady to dispense with, an● for so little ● time as a Month too? Is he not the Father of Spirits, and regards more the Orator● of a sigh than all the luscious Expr ssions of the Lips? Understands he not the Language of the Soul, ●n● heark●ns to the very desires of the Humble? Mayst thou not Offer up the pur●r Sacrifice from the secret Altar of a Flaming 〈◊〉, and be safe? What an advantage hast thou to 〈◊〉 the Conspiracy by a Mental▪ Devotion, an● to Countermine the Villa●●●s of th●ir Cursed Policy by looking up thy Soul in its self?  
Ah no! The brave Votary s●orns to compound with his God for his Life, 
Spirit prevails.  nor will save himself by so mu●h as Latching the Door of his Lips; he will not ●ti●le the vent of his Soul, though itself were sure to fly through it: He will glorify God with his speech, though he speak himself into Air; he will not disfigure the Body of his Duty, to save his own from mangling; and would rather the Lions should open their Mouths to swallow him, than he by shutting up his, to ●mprison his Zealand Affections. He resolve● that his Mouth shall Confess unto God (and the World) ●hat his Heart believeth unto Salvation; and (while his Enemies were watching) imagine this devout Supplicant thus pouring out his Soul unto God.  

The Prayer.  
GOD of my Soul and of my B●ing, the Glorious jehovah that 〈◊〉 everlastingness, and hum●l●st thyself to b●●old the things that are in Heaven and Earth— ●ear ●nd have mercy. Thou art God alone, and besides thee there is none else: What is this Darius, whom these m●n have blasphemously Ex●ulted to Rob thee of thy Glory and Worship, and 〈◊〉 a God of him that cannot help, that cannot save ●●rs●lf or others— O Pardon their Sin. And this they 〈◊〉 done with design to Rob me too, of this Glorious Liberty of Access to thee my God, who art the very Life ●f my Soul, and whose loving kindness is better than Life, 〈◊〉 without whom Life is none at all. They would shut 〈◊〉 from thy Presence, but do not thou; Op●n the Door 〈◊〉 thy Grace and my Soul, that I m●y fly unto thee; and 〈◊〉 [these] these mine Enemies lie in wait for my 〈◊〉; yet let me Praise thee with joyful Lips, and Serve 〈◊〉 without fear. What, though they have decreed to 〈◊〉 away my life, are not my Times in thy hand? and without thee sheepcot fall an hair from my Head. O 〈◊〉 me a Faith beyond my Fear, and a Courage beyond 〈◊〉 Malice, that I may die rather than disown thee; 〈◊〉 Devoting myself a Sacrifice to thy Glory, may 〈◊〉 all the World know that thou Lord, art the only God 〈◊〉 the Souls of thy Servants who put their 〈…〉. Redeem thy Church and People—   
〈◊〉 Noise interrupt● him: The 〈◊〉 cry out amain, 
The 〈…〉.  〈…〉 Traitor against our 〈◊〉 and his 〈◊〉, away with him to the Lions, Darius' ●●●s●lf cannot sav● hi●.  
Th●se, we may suppose, were the Evide● to Swe●r against him▪ who could safely 〈…〉 (without fear of Perjury) that they h● making his Petitions to the God of Heaven, and so breaking the Decree.)  
And now ha● the Plot taken effect, the Innocent man falls by the Councils of the Wicked: 〈◊〉 art thou O Lord, yet le● me talk with th●e of 〈…〉: Wher●fore d●th the 〈◊〉 of the Wicked prosper? Wher●fore are ●hey happ● 〈…〉? Jer. 12.1. So foolish was I and ignorant— Surely thou didst set them in slippery 〈◊〉, thou cast est them down in●o 〈…〉 are they brought into Desolation as in a 〈…〉 wi●h Terrors, P ●l. 73. 1●, 19.22.  
Now may you see them troop together with j●y and speed to Darius' Court, where they subti●●y r●pe●t th● Co●●ent● of the Law to the King, with a Cursed Policy of designing to oblige him to a sacred and inviolable observance of his own E●ict, ere ever they discover the Transgressor, who (they knew) was so dear to him, that (for hi● sak●) he might have strained hi● Prerogative unto the length of a Pardon, (i●po●●●ble.) But having once obliged him by the honour of his Royal word to confirm the decree, than they presume to produce the Indictment and thus A●●res●:  

O King Live for Ever.  
THat Dani●l who pretends so mu●h Love an● Loyal●y to thy Royal Person, so mu●h Vene●●tion an● respect to all thy Laws, 〈◊〉, he is th● 〈…〉 Ungrateful man th●t he is, whom 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉 thou hast 〈…〉 whose very weight 〈…〉 in hi● Loyalty 〈…〉 th●●●he sublimity 〈…〉 into fo●ly too; he 〈…〉 other Go●, as if ●●ou O King we●t not 〈◊〉 enough for him, who hast been so kind and Royal to him. Never has the largesse of Princely Bounty 〈◊〉 unluckily miscarried by ingratitude and Treachery, which dares be so insolent to give so pernicious an Ex●mple of first Violating that Law, which he should have valued infinitely dearer than his Life, and rather than have prostituted it to 〈◊〉 Contempt, should have 〈◊〉 the warmest Blood of hi● Heart to it● Glory.  
We pray therefore that he may (Suffer the Pains and Penalties of the Irrevoca●●● Decree he has so Profanely despised, may receive the just R●comp●●se of his haughty Rebellion and Pride.)— Be thrown to the Lions.   
Now is the King almost dead, with sorrow, the fatal News more wounds his Royal Heart than the P●i●oners: The King himself suffers in this Plot, and is persecuted in the Captive; and now is basely betrayed to sign the Decree, which Seals his own vexation and trouble: For 'tis they, and not Daniel▪ were guilty of the Treason against his Royal tranquillity and peace.  
Unhappy Dani●l! to b● so loved and so hated! so pasionately loved by Darius, so universally 〈◊〉 by his Nobles. Here●● n●t one of all the Peers h●s a pity for thee, they jointly address for thy 〈◊〉 Execution; (Naming Co●tradicent●.) The King, singly demures, and while he does so, they impatiently ad●r●ss a second time, (and had not so ●●●●●erously 〈◊〉 hitherto. now to 〈◊〉 thei● Plot to perish in ●m●rio.) 〈◊〉 makes them fo●●●et good manner's, they 〈…〉 and uncourly▪ 〈◊〉 O Ki●●, that the L●w● the 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 it, that no Decree nor 〈◊〉 which the King 〈…〉, v. 15. q. 〈◊〉 We have 〈…〉 a B●y, 〈◊〉 Re●el may no● be pardoned, t●e Laws of t●y Kingdom will not bear it, though thou wouldst; therefore in vain dost thou labour to ●eliver him, for die he must and shall.  
But now methinks how do I see the great Darius hugging him in his A●ms; whilst he beholding him (as he fears) with his last Eyes, breaths out his very Heart to him in such dear Expressions as these?  
Daniel, my dearest Dani●l, the brightest Star that ever illustrated a Prince's Court; the faithfullest Servant that ever blessed a Master; the very Glory and Flower of my Kingdom and Palace, who art passing up into those more glorious Mansions, where only dwell su●h Spirits▪ as thine. Thou wi●t no more envy the toys of Regality, nor need the airy Honours of an Earthly Palace; I am distressed fo● thee my dearest Daniel; how willingly could I unclothe myself from these vain Badges of Majesty to pass into Spirit with thee? But ●tay, may not thy God meet thee in the Den, as (I have heard) Sha●rach's did him in the Furnace; and methinks I have Faith to believe he will; and lest thine Enemies should think so too, and send in Russians more cruel than the Beasts to destroy thee, my care shall obviate that danger▪ while I Seal thee up under the Protection of Heaven and thy God.  
How stately passes the Captive 〈◊〉 the Den, 
He passes to the Den.  richly laden with the Troph●●● of his Prince's affections, and the graces of his God He leaves nothing behind him, th●● he should take to Heaven with him, but the thought ●f Revenge.  

A Dialogical Discourse between Adonibezeck, and one of the 60 Kings he tormented and kept under his Table: The Discourse supposed to be in the other World.  
The Argument.  
The mighty King, the Tyrant, whose delight  
In tortures was; who sixty Kings, in spite  
Of Regal Power that did their Brows adorn,  
Maimed, and beneath his Table kept in scorn,  
Is in like manner served: so fares it still,  
With those that seek their fellow Creatures ill.  〈◊〉. 
HOw now great Monarch! by what fatal chance  
〈◊〉 you from lights of splendid pomp advance  
〈◊〉 these dull Regions? how cut off by death  
〈◊〉 you the sternest Tyrant of the Earth,  
〈◊〉 midst of all your Glories lose your breath.  ●don. 
Torment me not in ask how I fell,  
●ow the Fates durst my Ambition Quell.  ●ing. 
Know you not who I am? know you not me.  ●don. 
I know too well the dreadful shape I see;  
●●ke it from mine Eyes, I would not know,  
●wou'd be known in these sad times of woe.  ●ing. 
Yet pittyless you durst our patience prove,  
〈◊〉 could our Tears, nor Groans your Mercy move.  ●don. 
'Tis true, they could not, but I thought me then  
〈◊〉 the blasting Fate of Vulgar men.  
〈◊〉 made me seem in heights to fly  
〈◊〉 the reach of frail Mortality.  ●●ng. 
So we once thought, yet all we urged was vain,  
●ou'd our Sighs, when fallen, ease our pain.  Adon. 
You were my Captives, by fierce war so made▪  
Your country's mine, by me in Ashes laid.  King. 
'Tis true, yet pity in a Monarch's Breast  
Renowns him more, pity to those oppressed,  
A Godlike nature in Mankind creates,  
And Envy's Keen-soul piercing Shaft Rebates.  Adon. 
But then Compassion knew not my Abode,  
Revenge and Fury waited on my Nod,  
My will was then my law, Death marked my Frowns  
On wh●m they bend, there he bestowed his wounds.  King. 
Yet now too plain you see, the God whose Eyes  
Into the darkest of Man's Secrets pries,  
Has found you out, and by his chosen Seed,  
Now made the Proud Adonibezeck bleed.  Adon. 
'Tis to my Shame, and sad Confusion know●  
As I have done, to me so be it done;  
In a base servitude a Monarch died,  
Maimed as he maimed, Crushed as he crushed the pride  
Of daring Mortals whom he made to stoop,  
ere they his Towering Cedar could o're-top.  King. 
Just is thy plague, thy punishment is com●  
And we with joy, behold thy juster doom?  
So fares it with all those that pitiless  
Afflict their Brethr'n when in most distress;  
Who proudly triumph over those they may,  
And make a sport of them they make their Prey  
So may it fare with Tyrants, so with those,  
Whose Breast no mercy, but fell rage Inclose,  Adon. 
My guilty Conscience wounds me, Let that  
Revenge enough, no more than torture me.  King. 
Still, still, I'll haunt you, since the 〈◊〉 decree  
Your Fortune equal in our Misery.  Adon. 
I'll shun you then; my Soul no more can 〈◊〉  King. 
Yet you unmoved our sad laments could 〈◊〉  Adon. 
'Tis true, I did, and scoffed at all your 〈◊〉  
glutting with your hard Fates my well pleased eyes.  King. 
Then what can you expect, but to endure  
Our hate and scorn, who could yourself enure  
●n prosperous days, to nought but cruelty.  Adon. 
That I'll prevent, for with swift wings I'll fly  
To dismal shades of Night, beyond your reach.  King. 
In vain's such flight, your Walls can't now Impeach  
Our following fury; now your Guards are gone  
No power to torture's left; Death has undone  
The knot of power, and now like us you are,  
Like us who vow with you perpetual War.  Adon. 
Spare, spare me, I repent my wicked deeds;  
●y Rage is lost, my Heart now melts and bleeds;  
●our want of power this feigned repentance breeds.  King. 
No, we'll pursue you through the Gloomy Coasts.  
●nd tell your Story to the well pleased Ghosts.  
●ho laughing loud shall join with us in Mirth▪  
●o plague you, as you plagued us on Earth.  Adon. 
O wretched me? how woeful is my case,  
●ho find in Life nor Death no resting place;  
〈◊〉 Earth I was to Iacob's Sons betrayed  
●nd here the Scorn of once my Slaves I'm made.  
●herefore by me let Tyrant's warning take,  
●●st they are scorned by those, their scorn they make.   

A Dialogue between Jael and Sisera.  
The Argument.  
Sisera routed, flies to Jael's Tent  
And's Introduced with a Compliment;  
But sleeping, a sharp Nail his Temple's wound;  
Till he his Death in that low Lodging found.  ●●el. 
Ha— who is this? that thus with hasty steps makes to my poor Abode; If I mi●● not, it is the Warrior that has troubled Israe● yes, yes, 'tis Sisera.— Speak, speak my Lord, why come you thus alone? where, where are all the mighty Captains that were wont to wait upon you, marking your Frowns and Smiles as sure portents of Life and Death; the Signals of the Nations Peace, or dire Calamity.  Sisera. 
Alas! Alas! The God of jacob has prevailed, and they're no more; the Battle has devoured them, and their slaughtered Carcases lie scattered on the Plains of Israel.  I. 
How! is the mighty Jabins' Army overthrown.  Sisera. 
It is, and still the danger is too near to admit of time to tell the dreadful ruin; for the well fleshed Foe besmeared with blood and slaughter, hastily pursue; O had you seen the fearful havoc Barak's Sword has made; how wheeling with a swift reverse it mowed down Ranks of men? You would have trembled.  jael. 
My Lord, I tremble at the thoughts of his wide wasting fury; but see the Enemies upon the Mountain-tops.  Sisera. 
'Tis true,— With speedy steps they hitherward advance, Now! now! My life is in your hands, secure me from their fury by denial, and stay my thirst with water, and I'll largely recompense your care.  jael. 
Doubt not, my Lord, of safety in my Tent;— Here, here, Drink, drink thou mighty Man of War, drink what my homely Tent affords.  Sisera. 
'Tis Nectar most delicious, and has much refreshed my weary Soul;— But I'll repose, and leave my safety to your conduct.  jael. 
This covering my Lord;— Ha?— wha● a sudden drowsiness has seized the Man of blood— Why can it be that he can securely snore, when Death is hover round him— Now, now's the time to be revenged for all the slaughter he ha● caused; for all the Widows and sad Orpha●● tears, burnt Towns, deflowered Virgins, ravish'● Matrons, and the bleeding Wombs, whence gasping Infants by rude hands were torn: Heaven prompt my Zeal to act the Tragedy. This sharp Instrument well fits my purpose; and now to free my Country from his future rage.— Thus— thus I seal his Eyelids with eternal slumber.— The deed is done; convulsive Death now triumphs over him, whose breath has doomed so many thousands to the Grave: unfeared he lies, whose name was wont to make the Sons of Ia●ob tremble, and at whose approach the well fenced Towns were slighted, whilst for safety the Amazed Inhabitants lurked in the Caves and solitary Wildernesses.  

Conclusion.  
The mighty Sisera slain, glad Jael meets  
The conquering Captain and his death relates,  
Which joys the Israelites, and makes them sing  
For their deliverance to the Eternal King;  
Who grants them Peace and Plenty many days  
And cheers them with the brightness of His rays    
Ruth. 1. Verse. 16, 17. 
And Ruth answered; entreat me not to leave thee, ●or to depart from thee; for whether thou goest I will go, ●nd where thou dwellest there will I dwell: thy People ●all be my People, and thy God my God. Verse. 17. ●here thou diest will I die, and there I will be buried; ●e Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death ●a● thee and me.  
Here we have the resolution of Ruth portrayed 〈◊〉 lively colours: so that if we consider her Sex, 〈◊〉 Woman, her Nation a Moabite; we may boldly pronounce of her what our Saviour did of the Centurion, Verily I say unto you, I have not found so great ●aith, no, not in Israel.  Entreat me not t● le●ve thee. 
Some read i●, be not 〈◊〉 against me, as it is in the ●●rgen of the ne● Translation Where we see that t●●se ar●●o be accounted our adv●rsar●es and against us, who pers●●●d● us fr●● our vo●a●● to Cana●●, fro● going to Go●s true Religion. They may be ou● Father's, they canno● b● our friend's; though they promise us all outward Profits and 〈◊〉 yet in very deed they are ●or with us, but against us, and so must be acco●●●ed.  Where thou L●dgest, I will lod●e. 
A good Companion saith the Latin Proverb, i● proviati●●. I may add also p●● divers ri●. Ruth, s● be it she may enjoy Naomie's graci●●● company, wi●● be content with any lodging, though happily it may be no better than jacob had, Gen. 28.  Thy People shall be my People, 
Haman being offended with Mordicai, as if it ha● been lean and weak revenge to spit his spite upo● one person, hated all the Jews for Mordicai's sake the mad Bear stung with one Bee, would nee● throw down the whole Hive. But clean contrary Naomi had so graciously demeaned herself, th● Ruth for her sake is fallen in love with all the Jews Farewell M●ch●n, farewell Chemosh, farewel 〈◊〉 Welcome Israel▪ welcome Canaan, welcome Bedlam; all of a sudden she will turn Convert, 〈◊〉 will turn Proselyte.  Thy God shall be my God. 
Iehos●phat when he joined wi●h Aha●. 1 King. 〈◊〉 said unto him, my People is as thy People, 〈◊〉 Horses' are as thy H●●ses, (that is) he would com● with him in a politic League, but Ruth goes ●●●ther to an unity in Religion, Thy God shall be 〈◊〉 God.  Where thou diest will I die. 
Here Ruth supposeth two things, that she 〈◊〉 her mother in law should both die. It is appio●● once to die. Secondly, That Naomi as the eldest, should die first: for according to the ordinary custom of Nature, it is the most probable and likely, that those that are most stricken in years, should first depart this Life. Yet I know not whether the Rule or Exceptions be more general; and therefore let both Young and Old prepare for Death, the first may die soon, but the second cannot live long.  And there will I be buried. 
Where she supposed two things more, first, that those that survived her, would do her that favour to bury her, which is a common courtesy, not to be denied to any: It was an Epitaph written upon the Grave of a Beggar, Nudas eram vivus, mortuus ecce tegor. 2 lie. She supposeth they would bury her, according to her instructions, near to her Mother Naomi.  

Observation.  
As it is good to enjoy the company of the Godly while they are living, so it is not amiss, if it will stand with convenience to be buried with them after death: The old Prophet's bones escaped a bur●ing by being buried with the other Prophets, and the Man who was tumbled into the grave of Elisha, was revived by the virtue of his Bones. And we read in the Acts and Monuments, That the body of Peter Martyr's wife was buried in a dunghill, but afterwards being taken up in the Reign of Q. Elizabeth, it was honourably buried in Oxford, in the Grave of one Frideswick, a Popish-the-Saint; to this end, that if Popery, which God forbid, should overspread our Kingdom again, and if the Papists should go about to untomb Peter Martyrs Wife's Bones, they should be puzzled to distinguish betwixt the Woman's body and the Relics of that their Saint, so, good it is sometimes to be buried with those who some do account pious; though perchance in very deed they be not so.  The Lord do so to me and more also. 
To ascertain Naomi of the seriousness of her intentions herein, Ruth backs what formerly she had said, with an Oath, lined with an execration.  If aught but Death 
See here the large extent of a Saints love, it lasts till Death, and no wonder, for it is not founded upon Honour, Beauty, Wealth, or any other sinister respect in the party beloved, which is subject to Age or Mutability, but only on the Grace and Piety in him; which Foundation because it always lasteth, the love which is built upon it, is also perpetual.  Part thee and me. 
Death is that which parteth one Friend from another; Then the dear Father must part with his dutiful Child, than the dutiful Child must forget his dear Father, than the kind Husband must leave his constant Wife, than the constant Wife must los● her kind Husband, than the careful Master must be sundered from his industrious Servant, than the industrious Servant must be sundered from his careful Master. Yet this may be some comfort to those, whose Friends death hath taken away; that as our Saviour said to his Disciples. Yet a little while, and ●ou shall not see me, and yet a little while, and you shall see me again. So yet a little while, and we shall no● see our Friends; and yet a little while, and we shall see them again in the Kingdom of Heaven, for, n●● mi●●umur, sed pr●mittumur, we do not forego them, but they go before us.    

A Dialogue between Naomi and Ruth.  
Argument.  
Kind Ruth, her Husband dead, to Naomi  
Does cleave, resolving so to live and die;  
In all adversity she makes a Vow  
To follow her, and her kind Aid allow:  
To prop her Aged years, when kindly she  
Accepts of her dear Daughter's company.  Naomi. 
SEe'st thou not that Orpah thy Sister has left me, and is again returned to her People; why shouldst thou then remain, since Heaven's Eternal King has taken to himself Chilion, the dear. Pledge of your tender Love? there live happy, since all hopes are vanished, that from my aged Womb more Sons should spring.  Ruth. 
Have I not lived with you these many years, even when wall-breaking Famine bared the sunburnt Fields, and Men as well as Beasts (by thousands) fell, to fat the Bosom of our Common Mother.  Naomi. 
'Tis true you have; but then Heavens plenteous hand showered blessings on me; then my Husband and my careful Sons drew breath. But now.—  Ruth. 
Now— why— Can you once imagine that want can cause my love to waste, no, for your own, and my dead Chilions' sake, I'll love you still, and render you ●he Duty that becomes a Daughter in Law.  Naomi. 
Thy tender years can never undergo the ●ardship that poor wand'ring Na●mi may meet with 〈◊〉 she can be settled in the place where first she ●rew her Breath; therefore consider, and whilst ●ou are in Moabs' borders, think of the plenty that abounds in your own indulgent Mothers Womb.  Ruth. 
I have already cast the business in my Mind, and am resolved, that Winter's chilling Storms, nor Summer's scorching beat attended with the sharp Contests of poverty and pining want, shall never part us; Death itself in all his dismal shapes is not of force to shake my fixed determination.  Naomi. 
You yet are young, and have not struggled with Misfortunes, nor contended with the world, and therefore know not of what force they are; consider how belated Naomi (in her long Journey) must be often forced to make the Ground her Bed; and underneath some spreading Tree lie stretched: Exposed to all the injuries of weather, whilst soft sleep flies from her careful Breast, and she with sighs and groans is forced to wound the murmuring Air.  Ruth. 
If upon some bleak Mountain's top, whose covering is Snow and Globes of Solid Ice, where Winter's lasting Tyranny still Reigns, you should be forced 〈◊〉 make your Bed, I'd there repose: This Arm should be your Pillow, whilst your Daughter, your obedient Ruth froze to your side.  Naomi. 
Could you do this— Yet think again, and well consider, that old Age comes fast on me, and I shall soon be summoned to the Grave; where you being left a stranger in the Land of Israel; and far from your Relations; meet with much contempt and scorn from the proud Daughters of the Land. Then will be the time of your repentance, the● you'll blame that ill starred day you left your Country and your Friends for the sad company of wretched Naomi.  Ruth. 
Let that not trouble my dear Adopted Mother; for when unfriendly Death with his cold Icy hand, shall grasp your Life, I'll mourn much like a Widow Turtle, till in floods of swelling Grief I'm wasted to Eternity; and then our bodies shall not be disjoined; but in 〈◊〉 Grave we'll lie, till our returning Souls shall wake 〈◊〉 drowsy courses; and hand in hand we take our way to Heaven.  Naomi. 
Can there be such constant Faith in Woman? O thou glory of our Sex! let me embrace thee. Thus whilst my poor heart overflows with Joy, O thou dear recompense of all my toils; who makest amends forHusband and for Son's loss; may Heavens Favours shower upon your Head, and you be blessed in all you undertake.  Ruth. 
Your kind Expressions are too large a retribution for what I have resolved; but see the Morning Dawn salutes the World: let's lose no time, but straight begin our journey to the wished Bethlehem of Juda.  Naomi. 
Be it as you have said, my only Comfort and blessed Solace of my age.  

Conclusion.  
Thus setting forth, they unto Bethlehem came,  
Where Naomi desired to change her Name,  
As grieved at her great loss; but in the end  
Rich Boaz weds Ruth, and soon becomes her Friend.  
Ruth Soon grows fruitful, and from her does spring  
The Lineal Rank, good David, Israel's King.    

Dagons Fall before the Ark.  
The Sins of Israel growing great, God's rage  
Was bend against his Chosen Heritage,  
Old Ely's Sons polluting holy things,  
And with vile Ha●ds disdain the Offerings.  
The Lord of Hosts convenes the Heathen Powers  
To batter down aspiring Jacob's Towers.  
Before their Swords the routed Hebrews fly,  
And fill the Hills and Valleys with their cry.  
The wicked Seed of the High Priest are s●ain,  
And the tremendous Ark itself is ta'en.  
In which the Mighty God was pleased to dwell,  
Before whose wrath so many Nations fell  
And now the bold insulting Foe, as proud  
Of such a Trophy, bore it shouting loud,  
To the base Temple of their false feigned God,  
Composed of Gems of Gold and precious wood;  
A stock inspired by an Infernal Fiend,  
On whom they durst in Peace and War depend;  
Ascribing to his power the great success  
Of their weak Arms, and joyful words express,  
When lo! the fearful Fiend with hideous cries,  
From his adored Idol swiftly flies;  
Not daring view that Face which brightness shrouds  
The God whose Thunder rends the Marble clouds:  
Who grasps the Poles, and turns the Spears about,  
Whose Eyes survey the Universe throughout;  
Whose Anger kindled is so deadly great,  
That Hell itself from it would fain retreat.  
Had not strict Fate fast fixed it in its place,  
With whom alone the Righteous can find Grace.  
And now forsaken Dagon, wreft of voice,  
No answer gives, from it proceeds no noise,  
In vain his Priests inquire of Future things,  
In vain the Prince his cur'st Oblation brings.  
Deluding Satan bears perforce the shame,  
And though aloud they call on Dagons' Name,  
Yet dares not the fate babbling Daemon come,  
Lest he before his time receive his doom;  
And with linked Thunderbolts be driven back,  
Or sunk fast chained into the flaming Lake:  
But whilst they rend their Threats, their wooden God,  
Begins to totter and most strangely nod;  
Whereat affrighted the rude Rout recoil;  
When down at last upon his Face he fell.  
Yet up the foolish People rear again  
Their shame and folly, yet 'tis but in vain;  
For e'er the Sun reviewed their wicked Coast,  
The helpless Stock his Head and Hands had lost:  
Whilst fearful Plagues his Worshippers dismay,  
Who gladly send the holy Ark away;  
Not daring keep what eagerly they sought,  
Lest all their Land be to destruction brought.  

On Dagon and the Ark.  
What news with Dagon? Is thy shrine so hot,  
Thou canst not keep it? or has Dagon got  
The falling sickness, that his godship's found.  
In such a posture, prostrate on the ground?  
Poor helpless god! but stay! Is Dagon grown  
So weak i'th', hams: nor stand, nor rise alone?  
A god, and cannot rise? 'Tis very odd!  
He must have help, or lie: A proper god!  
Well, Dagon must require help of hands;  
Up Dagon goes the second time, and stands  
As confident, as though his place had been  
His own, in Fee: down Dagon falls again:  
But Dagon's shrewdly martyred with the jump,  
Lost Hands, and Head; and nothing left but stump:  
Sure all's not well with Dagon, now of late  
He's either sick, or much forgot the State  
Belonging to so great a God: hath none  
Offered some stinking Sacrifice, or blown  
Some nauseous fume into his sacred Nose.  
And made his Godship dizzy? or who knows,  
Perchance h'as taken pet, and will resign  
His sullen place, and quit his empty shrine.  
No wonder, a false God should stoop and lie  
Upon the flour, when as a true God's by?  
It was unlikely Dagon should forbear  
Respite of Homage when the Ark was there;  
If I would worship a false God at all,  
It should be one that would not scorn to fall  
Before his Betters; whose indifferent Arm,  
If it could do no good, could do no harm:  
I'd rather choose to bend my idle knee,  
Of all false Gods, to such a god as he,  
Whose spirit's not too quick: The Fabulous Frog  
Found greater danger in the Stork than Log:  
And to conclude, I'd choose him Dagon like;  
Not having Head to plot; nor Hands to strike.    

Saul chosen King.  
THe murmuring people, who Gods Wonders saw,  
And Glorious presence when he gave the Law.  
In Peals of Thunder on the dreadful Mount,  
Themselves unhappy in his Rule account;  
And like their Neighbour Nations, ask a King,  
That may their Armies out to battle bring.  
To which the Mighty God, though grieved, consents,  
Yet lets them know the sad and dire events  
Of their sad wish; tells what their King shall do,  
And that too late repentance would ensue,  
Which to headstrong Israel proved too true;  
But long they're not debarred of their desire,  
●ood Samuel marks them out what they require,  
Confirming▪ after many signs, the Son  
Of Aged Kish, a Benjamite, well known  
By his huge Stature, who for many years  
The Helm of Jacob's mighty Empire steers,  
But not regarding who the Sceptre Gave,  
The Sceptre giver does the Monarch leave:  
Who long despairing, did in jacob dwell,  
Till by his Sword on Gilboa he fell,  
And scattered Israel felt the rage of those,  
Who ever vowed themselves their mortal Foes.  

On Saul and David.  
SUre Saul as little looked to be a King,  
As I: and David dreamed of such a thing  
A● much as he, when both alike did keep,  
The one his Father's Asses, t'other Sheep:  
Saul must forsake his Whip, and David flings  
His Crook aside, and they must both be Kings.  
Saul had no sword, and David then no spear,  
There was none Conquered, nor no Conqueror there,  
There was no sweat, there was no blood to shed:  
The unsought Crown besought the Wearers head,  
There was no stratagem, no Opposition  
No taking parts, no jealous Competition.  
There needs no Art, there needs no Sword t● bring,  
And place the Crown, where God appoints the King.    

A Dialogue between Agag and Samuel.  
The Argument.  
Saul having spared the proud Amalekite,  
Samuel is grieved, and when the Pagan quite  
Had banished fear of Death, to Death ●e's giust▪  
In order to appease offended Heaven.  Agag. 
WWhat means the Prophet with 〈◊〉 stern Aspect to gaze upon a Monarch● misery, suffices it not that my slaughtered People ●at the Plains with streams of blood, and that my burning Cities cloud the Lamp of Heaven with ascending smoke.  Samuel. 
No haughty man, 'tis not enough; the 〈◊〉 of Jacob is displeased with such small Vengeance.  Agag. 
Then try to turn away his wrath with S●●crifice, let ten thousand Altars blaze with fat 〈◊〉 Bulls and Rams, the spoil that once belonged to Amaleks now fallen Sons.  Saul. 
In vain thou urgest such abomination, such Sacrifices would be odious in the Nostrils of that God Who dwells between the Cherubims, whose fierce wrath can be appeased with no less Sacrifice than thy cursed Life.  Agag. 
Ha— my life— why sure the fear of death is passed now, know you not that your King has promised Life.  Sa. 
I know him, who in sparing you and your unlawful Spoils has made himself a Rebel to the King of Kings.  Agag. 
Yet he's your Lord, and aught to be obeyed, to him I appeal, to him, who has already signed my pardon.  Samuel. 
In vain are all Appeals to Mortal Man, when God, the mighty God, in whose strong Hands is all the Breath of Life; has doomed you dead.  Agag. 
How— doomed me dead! O name not such another fatal Word— Spare, spare my Life, and all the Treasures I have hid▪ when first the Rumour of the dreadful War alarmed my affrighted coast are ●t your service.  Samuel. 
Your Treasure perish with you; not all the 〈◊〉 of the Universe shall rescue you from Death.  Agag. 
O draw not, draw not in this rage your 〈…〉 Sword! Consider I am a Man, a Father, 〈◊〉 monarch; Seest thou not what Robes of 〈◊〉 adorn me? seest thou not this awful Circle 〈◊〉 o'er with Gems: This Sceptre, at whose wave the Princes cringed, and kissed the dust; seest not him, to whom a thousand knees were wont to ●end; him on whose Breath, dependeth Life and Death, now prostrate on the ground, imploring 〈◊〉 for himself.  Samuel. 
All this I see, and as far as humane fr ail●● can bear sway, am moved; yet must not, dare not, 〈◊〉 not disobey my God.  Agag. 
O! consider once again, that my Mother 〈◊〉 a Queen in distant Lands; O think what grief will be to her to hear her only Son is slain.  Samuel. 
In vain is all you urge, and this last ●aying whets my Anger more, when I consider how your blood-bedaubed Hands have made the Nations mourn; how your destroying Sword has raised the Widows cries and tender Infants sighs; lo! the many slaughters you have made in Jacob's borders, rendered thousands childless; wherefore the self same Fate be on the Womb that bore you, whilst thus— thus— I execute God's wrath on thy pernicious Head.  Agag. 
Oh— Oh— I'm slain— I'm slain? I that have scaped a thousand deaths in battle, tamely fall a Victim to the Zealous Fury of an enraged Prophet.  Samuel. 
Thus what Saul left undone, my aged hand finished, and atoned for jacob's Land.   

A Dialogue between David, Saul, and Goliath, upon their Encounter.  
The Argument.  
David Anointed King of jacob's Seed,  
Hastes to the Camp of Saul, with swiftest speed,  
And undertakes to fight the mighty Foe,  
Who with proud boasting, forty days durst show  
His monstrous Bulk; defying Israel's Host;  
But David with a sling soon quells his Boast.  Saul. 
SPeak, speak young Stripling, is it as my Captain has related, darest thou, that art but a Youth, Expose thyself against this Monster that defies my Host.  David. 
My Lord, I dare, though not presuming on the Arm of flesh, but totally relying on the Living God, who has delivered me from the devouring Rage of 〈◊〉 and of Bears; nor dare I now doubt the assistance of his power to b●ing low the haughty Pride of this bold Philistine that has defied the Armies of the living God.  Saul. 
Bold is your Spirit, and your courage brave, the two first steps to Glorious Actions shine in you, but yet consider, he's a man of War, mighty in strength, and dreaded by the most redoubted Captain of the Israelites.  David. 
Great King. did I rely on my own strength, I must confess his monstrous shape might dash my resolution, but his strength, on whom the high success depends, is capable by meanest things, to quell the mighty, and bring low all strength and power: with him there's nought impossible.  Saul. 
Spoke like a Champion worthy to subdue the world; A Champion on whose Head your King will stake the Diadem of Israel,— my Armour there— so, put it on, and gird yourself in Walls of shining Steel, to fit you for the danger.  David. 
Alas my Lord, it needs not, for with these few stones I'll quell your Foe, and make him kiss the the humble Plain.  Saul. 
Braver in bold resolutions still— Well go thou worthy, and be prosperous; may the bright Minister of Heaven protect you from his rage, and make him fall before you.  David. 
All thanks great King, and may the God jacob prosper you; while thus your Servant posteth to assured Victory. David and Goliath come near each other.  
Ha— ha— ha— how am I moved to laughter, when I think the King of Israel in forty days could find no fitter man than this to fight me, sure this unarmed Stripling is but sent to mock me as imagining when he has teized me with some Raillery, to run away, and escape my following fury by reason of my heavy Armour.  David. 
Why laughs the Monstrous Philistine? why with wide jaws dare he disdain my youth? knew I no other God than Moloch, and accursed Dagon, I should not come resolved to the Combat.  Gol. 
How! to the Combat; Knowest thou with whom, poor youth, thou art to fight? Hast thou not heard of the sad Slaughters I have made? how this powerful hand has broke through the affrighted Squadrons of the Foe, and mowed with Whirlwinds Fury on each side, cutting through Groves of Spears, a bloody way to Victory, till h●●ps of slain have ●ali'd me in; and thinkest thou with a Staff to drive me hence? May Moloch and great Dag●● blast thy foolish thoughts.  Dau. 
Not all the bloody deeds thou hast done, can fright the Son of Jesse, n●r once dismay the Man that h●t avowed to vi● oppressed Israel of so great a curb, that henceforth haughty man may not so boldly trust in Arms of Flesh.  Gol. 
Why hoverest thou then round me at this rate, and shunnest my fury, art afraid to come within my reach? Come to me, and I will give thy Flesh to the Fowls of the Air, and to the Beasts of the Field: Tear thee in ten thousand pieces, and thy scattered Limbs set up as Trophies of my Victory in all the Coasts of Israel, when this fatal Sword has made its Monarch stoop to the Phili●●●nes yoke.  Dau. 
In vain are all thy unregarded Threats; Although thou comest to me with a Sword, ● Spear and Shield, and I to thee in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the Armies of Israel, whom thou hast defied.  Gol. 
O how hot is my revenge! To what a height boils up my raging Fury; O that thou wert this moment in my reach, how would I toss thee in the Air, and pash thy falling Body on the Rocks.  Dau. 
I'll not be long ere I advance to t●y destruction; for this day will the Lord deliver thee into mine hands; and I will smite thee, and take thine head from thee; and I will give the Carcases of the Philistines this day unto the Fowls of the Air, and to the wild Beasts of the Earth, that all the Earth may know there is a God in Israel; and all this Assembly shall know, that the Lord saveth not with Sword and Spear, and he will give it into our hands.  Gol. 
I'll not endure this longer, but chastise thy Insolence with flaming Steel; whose very touch shall make thee fly in sunder.  Dau. 
Nor will I fail to meet your utmost fury; and thus I'll thunder on ●our lofty Front, and bring you to the ground.  Gol. 
O horror! Death and Ruin; what dark Mist is this benights my Eyes? what dreadful bolt on flaming Wings, thrown by some envious power, ●as thus o'erthrown the great Goliath, and laid all his Trophies levelly with the dust.  Dau. 
Now Monster, now know there's a God in Israel; and as I promised, thus I take thy head;— 'Tis done— done with the Sword thou threatenedst mine: And thus I bear it to the King, taking thy Armour as my lawful prize.  

Conclusion.  
Goliath slain, the faint Philistines fly,  
Whilst after them pursuing Israel cry;  
And fearful slaughter rages every where,  
The Sword no Mercy has, nor knows to spare,  
Till all or most are slain: Then David's sought,  
And to the King in glorious Triumph brought,  
Declaring who it is, whilst Honour high,  
Crowns him at last with Rays of Majesty.   

On David and Goliath.  
SAtan's the great Goliath, that so boasts  
And threats our Israel, and defies her Hosts;  
Those smother stones courageous David took  
From the soft bosom of the silver brook,  
Are Scriptum ests: the Sling that gives them flight,  
Is Faith; that makes them fly, and fly aright:  
Lord, lend me David's sling, and then I know,  
I shall have David's strength, and courage too:  
Give me but skill to pick such stones as these,  
And I will meet Goliath when he please.    

A Dialogue between David and Michal.  
The Argument.  
David advanced, Saul envies his loud fame,  
And fears his Glories, will Eclipse his name;  
Wherefore fair Michals given a snare to be  
To him; She loves, but does not in't agree;  
For when death hovered round his threatened head,  
She cheats them with an Image in his stead.  Michal. 
MY Lord, I wonder you'll expose yourself at this rate, to my Father's rage; Know you not that he seeks your life?  David. 
Yet God, the God of Abraham, is able 〈◊〉 defend me from his rage, seeing I have done nothing that deserves his hate; but in the uprightness of my heart go in and out before him.  M. 
Know you not, that I was given to you as a snare, to sound the secrets of your heart, and to pry into your Councils.  D. 
I know it, my dear Love, my happiness, and all I prise on this side Heaven; but dare not think that such virtue, tenderness, and innate goodness, can be wrought upon to prove a Traytoress to him, that can admire nothing but the eternal maker of the glorious Universe, above her.  M. 
I question not your love, but sure it is, my Father urges me continually to lay open your secrets, that he may find occasion against your life; but hitherto his threats and promises have proved ineffectual.  D. 
And ever will, I hope, my joy.— Nay, nay, I dare not doubt it; it were sin once to mistrust your Virtue. It shall never sink into my thought, that Michal will betray her David.  M. 
And dare you trust to that, consider well, what glittering Gems, a Prince in Marriage, and a Kingdom at command, may tempt me ●o consider I'm a Woman, and that all the Sex is ●rail.  D. 
All this, and all the Splendid Pomp the haughtiest Monarch can bestow, I have considered; yet cannot once Imagine they can move my Love to entertain so base a thought.  M. 
Yet once more— what if my Father should threaten me with Death and torture if I disobeyed his lawful will; and if he finds me trifle with him; rashly put in execution what he threats.  D. 
Nor can this make me once imagine, my dear happiness, that you would give me to his Fury; though in this case I'd willingly meet his fierce wrath, when high, to save my Love from such a danger: There is no Torment so outrageous, that I would not with a smile embrace, look pleasantly on Death, and tamely bow my head at your rough Father's Feet, whilst his bloodthirsty Sword cut off my days— Thank the hand that took my Life for yours, and bless the King for such a Favour with my dying breath.  Mi. 
Let me embrace my Lord, and let him be assured, that neither hopes of Glory, Threats, nor promises, shall move me to betray him. Rather than I'll prove false to him I love as Life, I'll undergo whatever witty Horror can invent, be for ever banished from my Native Land, to live in lonely Deserts, and die comfortless in some dark pathless Wilderness; no, all I urged wa●, but to try how much you valued me.  Da. 
O! you ravish me with too much joy; I was before confined, and now 'tis doubly done: no more but to our Chambers, where the first fruits of our Love were reaped, and there I will tell my Love how much I am transported.  Mi. 
I am obedient, and with eager Eye● feedding on your manly beauties, thus cast the Daughter of a King into your Arms to lead her where you please.  

Conclusion.  
The happy Lo●ers scarce their Loves repeat,  
When Saul's stern Guards a fierce Alarm beat,  
For David's head they come; but michal's Wit  
Sends thence her Lord; and with this Counterfeit  
Deludes the Captains, whereat Saul's enraged,  
But by his Daughters feigned Tale's assuaged.    

A Dialogue between Jonathan and David.  
The Argument.  
The Son of Saul to David does express,  
A Friendship great, nor does he prove it less.  jon. 
WWhat fears my Brother David? wherefore shuns he me?  Da. 
You know, my Lord, that Men in danger ever dread, especially when they suspect the danger near.  jon. 
Why, what of danger; whence do these affrighting thoughts proceed? why is the mighty Warrior thus disturbed.  Da. 
Know you not that your Father seeks my Life; and are not you ●is darling Son.  Io. 
And does my presence create a fear in David?  Da. 
Let my Lord pardon when thus low I beg it? If I have some doubts that your Commission is to bring me to your Father's presence.  Io. 
Far be that thought from Iesse's valiant Son, whom I must chide for wronging me in such A nature: O? canst thou once Imagine that an Action so ignoble can e'er lurk within my breast? Can you suspect the Man (wh●se Soul moves in sweet harmony with yours) can be so basely treacherous, as to betray his Friend,  Da. 
Forgive me, my rash fear, my Lord, and I'll not dare to fear again, I must confess, your love to me has been so great, that I condemn myself for once so much as harbouring a suspicion, that you e'er intended to harm me.  Io. 
Let this dear kind Embrace sign your free granted Pardon, and in Oblivion's darkest Land, let your hard censures ever rest.  Da. 
O boundless Love! how can I, how shall I deserve it! What recompense is David capable to make that in the smallest measure can requite the Heir Apparent to his Father's Sceptre— thus low.—  Io. 
No more this cringing distance, but to my Arms: I know thy Innocency, and will become a shield to save you from my Father's wrath; through me, he makes his way to David's Breast, if Fate decree his ruin.  D. 
O my dear Lord; You make me blush, and at the same time to weep for joy, to hear what you express; such faith, such constancy, such boundless Love, was never known from man to man before.  Io. 
Although I know you must succeed my Father in his Throne, yet will not I for Empire-sake, that by succession should descend to me; suffer my Love to lessen.  Da. 
O! My Lord no more; I am confirmed that I am happy in so brave a Friend, happy as Man can wish; and must make it still the business of my Life, to recompense so great a favour.  Io. 
All I request is, that you would be kind to my Posterity, when Heaven incircles your calm 〈◊〉 with the bright Diadem of Israel.  Da. 
Whatever my dear Friend can wish, I'll do; nor shall there be aught wanting in me to retaliate th● kindness of my—  Io. 
I ask no more, nor will I dare to doubt your Generosity; but see the Captains of my Father's Host approach, which urges my departure; but ●'re long I'll find a ●eans to meet my Friend, and tell him all my Father's thoughts. Till then, ten thousand blessings on your Head.  Da. 
All thanks to my Kind Lord; and may the God, whose Eyes survey the secrets of each Heart, shower blessings on you, and make your Posterity flourish in the Tents of Jacob.  

Conclusion.  
jonathan goes to Court, and sounds the Heart  
Of cruel Saul, which he does soon impart  
To David, and advises him to ●●y: who after many Rambling, fears to die  
By Saul's dread hand, and does at Gath remain,  
Till Saul's o'erthrown, and by his own Sword slain.    

An Account of Solomon's Concubines with the number of his Wives.  
●Ne doth seldom begin wickedness at the top: Vices have their degrees as well as Virtues; 〈◊〉 at first began to grow cool in the worship ●he true God, conversations with him were not often nor so pleasing, the pleasures of the World 〈◊〉 him, the delights of the Court charmed 〈◊〉, actions that are so free, soon become evil, 〈◊〉 evil ones turn themselves into custom, and 〈◊〉 into habit; this Child of God saw the Daughters of men, these strange Beauties which pricked him by their Novelty, he became a man, and made of them his Goddesses. The Daughters of the Moabites, and of the Amorites, those of Egypt, of Sidon, of Idumaea, and so many others, whereof God had forbidden him any alliance, were the Idols of his Heart, after they had been the Plague and Poison of his understanding. He which had pronounced so many excellent Parables against Love, which had so many times advertised Youth, that the Lips of an unchaste woman distilled honey at the beginning, but at the end they gave a portion of Wormwood, was taken by the eyes, inchained with infinite af●fections; his Love was pompous; his Luxury ● sumptuous: he loved as much for glory, as for co●●cupiscence, he would act the King in his unchastnes● as stately, as in the Furniture of his Temple. 〈◊〉 had about seven hundred Women, which were 〈◊〉 Queens, and with that three hundred Concubine's which is according to the Scripture account, a tho●●sand wives, which he had shut in the Seraglio, for th● pleasure of his eyes and of his flesh, and of so man● loves, there is but one Son to be found, Rehobo●● void of wisdom and understanding. What 〈◊〉 a Prince do among so many delights, so many ●●●lurements, so many charms, and so many bewit●●ings! A Man is ofttimes much hindered, by 〈◊〉 troublesome brain of one Woman only. What se●●●ous business could he then set himsef to, that 〈◊〉 them multiplied by hundreds? These strange become each of them with all the inventions of 〈◊〉 Nation for to surprise him, there was one 〈◊〉 would gain him to her, another that would 〈◊〉 him, another that would draw him from one 〈◊〉 another, even unto the bottom of Hell; It is 〈◊〉 more easy to become a fool with a woman tha● make her wise; he had endeavoured perhaps to 〈◊〉 them to his Religion, but they perverted 〈◊〉 and drew him to theirs. He took their loves, and afterwards their behaviours, and at last their Superstition.  
Every one of these Women would bring her God into esteem: And thought not herself to have any credit in her love, if she did not make her false Deity to partake thereof.  

THe great, the Wise, the Glorious Solomon,  
For whom the Lord of Hosts so much had done,  
By Woman's subtilties at last beguiled,  
And with base Idols his great Heart's defiled:  
Strange Women tempt the King to go astray,  
To prove Ingrateful, daring disobey  
The God of jacob, whilst with Idols vain  
Strange Wives his Kingdom (he conniving) strai●  
Exalting false pretended helpless wood  
In places sacred where God's Altar stood;  
damned Ashtaroth, the cursed Zidonians shame,  
●ilcom the wicked Amorites chief blame;  
With Chemosh dire by darkest fiends inspired,  
●nd cruel Moloc who man's blood required.  
●o whose dire Orgies horrid Sacrifice,  
●ith clouds of smoke obscure the blushing Skies;  
whilst he well pleased, beholds the Rites profane,  
●or which the Canaanites were sadly slain.  
●he Heathen Women stupefy his Sense,  
●nd with base charms drive sacred Wisdom thence.  
●ven hundred Wives, three hundred Concubines  
〈◊〉 State maintains; who with Philterick Wines,  
●witch him still, and sway him as they ple●se,  
●●eir lawless Laws a Monarch's reason seize;  
●hich weakness in him makes jehovah frown,  
〈◊〉 raise up Foes to bring his glory down;  
whilst all the Tribes but juda, from his Son  
●olt, and straiten his Dominion.  
●●●ares it still with those that dare rebel;  
●●ainst the mighty God of Israel.    

The disobedient Prophet slain by a Lyon.  
THe foolish Son of Solomon bereft  
Of Israel's Aid, no Tribe but juda left,  
The bold revolters jeroboam chose  
Their King and Captain to subdue their Foes:  
But he damned Idols made, fixed bleating Gods  
In Dan and Bethel; to whose cur'st Abodes  
The mudding People soon a whoring went,  
For whose restraint a Man from God was sent  
To cry aloud, whose voice their Altar rend,  
Poured out those Ashes, which as relics vain  
Of their unhallowed Sacrifice remain;  
Which made the wicked Monarch storm and stretch  
His Sceptered hand, commanding some to catch  
The Prophet, but the blood it soon forsaken,  
And every Joint was with such numbness struck,  
That all in vain, he struggled to draw in  
A Member guilty of so great a sin,  
Till humbly he entreats, and is restored,  
And kindest Entertainment would afford;  
But that's rejected, and the Prophet flies  
The guilty City; but the hasty Spies,  
Sons to an old deluding Prophet, tell  
What had in Jacob's Heritage befell:  
Who soon o'ertakes the loitering Seer, and the●  
With feigned tales decoys him back again  
To taste forbidden food; but when dismissed  
He meets his Fate, and vainly does resist  
The rending Lions, Death's commissioned pa●●s,  
And bloody Fury of his roaring Jaws;  
Slain is he straight, but not devoured; so did  
The Lord, whom all but Man obey and dread.  
When soon the news was spread, when soon 〈◊〉 known  
On whom the Execution had been done;  
Nor stays the Man who caused his hapless Fate  
But to a Grave the Carcase does translate;  
Commanding all his Sons, when Death possessed  
His Aged Limbs, and life flew from his Breast,  
To lay his Bones by his, affirming all  
The Prophet said, should suddenly befall.   

A Dialogue between Elijah and the Woman of Zarephath  
The Argument.  
The Raven fed Elijah, finding d●y  
The Brook of Cherish, at God's word does fly  
To Zerephath, and near the Gate does find  
A Widow, for whose kindness he proves kind,  
Saving her Life by miracle, that done,  
He shows God's Power in raising her dead Son.  Eli. 
THis is the place, the happy place, appointed by the God of Israel to give elijah rest. And see, according to his word, the Widow, in whose House I must sojourn till wasteful ●amine destroys the Land, makes her retreat to ●hose vast Deserts, where the scorching Sun forbids ●he falling showers.  Wid. 
Ha! What stranger is this, that hasts to our 〈◊〉, wretched, half starved City, whose faint inhabitants resemble Death's pale Image, and seem rather randring shades, than Mortal substances.  Eli. 
Haste, haste, thou happy Woman, whom Hea●en ordains to find refreshment for a weary Traveller, hast I say, and fetch me bread and water speedi●● to stay my fleeting Soul.  Wid. 
Alas Sir! As for bread, 'tis become so great 〈◊〉, that scarce a Morsel's to be found in this 〈◊〉 City; Water indeed we have, yet that of late is 〈◊〉 o'er plenty.  Eli. 
Can it be that such a stately Pile, such lofty Edifices are so quickly drained of that which is the Staff of Life.  W. 
Know you not Sir, that Meager Famine, with dreadful howl, terrifies the Nation; tearing up with brazen Talents the long barren Soil, crushing with Iron Teeth the hardest Flints, whilst all her Bones appear through her close cleaving Skin; and her sunk Eyes and shriuled Dugs make her look frightful to poor pining Mortals.  Eli. 
I know for sin, for dire heart hardening sin, the just incensed Majesty of Heaven has chased away the swelling Clouds, grown big with showers, whose gentle distillation should assist kind Nature in performing her desired task, and close the crannies of the yawning Earth; nor shall the cattaracts give rain in years to come, so Jacob's God decrees.  Wid. 
If Earth deny her Fruits much longer, wh● can live! since we already see so many thousands gasping for a moment's Life; and hear no other cries than what proceed from sad necessity, whilst nothing that's unclean, is left unfed upon; As for myself, all I have left, is but a handful of course meal, and a small quantity of Oil, nay, and half that's my Sons to dress, whic● am gathering these few sticks for, that we may eat an● die.  Eli. 
Dread not Death? since Heaven is careful of your preservation; dress instantly what now yo● have, and still your store shall be continued.  Wid. 
It cannot be— or if it do remain with 〈◊〉 unconsumed a while, it soon will waste, and then we hav● no more to eat, nor know we where to buy; for now pur● Gold and Silver, once a precious bane, is gladly give for the vilest things, with which the worst of Creat●●● heretofore were fed.  Eli. 
Dispute not what I bid, but do as I command and live, dare you doubt that oughtst impossible wi●● God, who sent me to preserve your life, whi●● ●ll the streets are paved with dead and dying wretches.  Wid. 
My Heart misgives me, and something as it were, does whisper me in my Ear, that it is a Prophet; speak; therefore totally relying on your word, I'll instantly make trial: If I live, I live, at the worst I can but die.— Ha— all I have taken out cannot be missed; the Cruse and the Barrel fill again by Miracle.  Eli. 
And so they shall, till plenteous Harvest bends with Golden Ears the feeble stalks, and Wine and Oil is every where abounding.  Wid. 
Blessed for ever be the Name of Israel's God, Who has sent his Servant to his Handmaid, to preserve her by ways unexpected, from a Death that could not but by miracle have been prevented.  Eli. 
No more, but dress what's in thy hand whilst I revive, and render thanks to his all glorious Name who has vouchsafed this favour.  Wid. 
With eager Willingness I fly, to do what you command.  

Conclusion.  
On unexhausted food three Persons fed,  
Till fatal sickness struck the youngest dead;  
But by the Prophet he to Life is brought:  
When bold Elisha furious Ahab sought,  
And tries by Sacrifice, who is the God  
That heals and wounds; shedding the cursed Priests blood.  
Then tells of Rain, that quickly does ensue,  
And Earth's dry face with Vervant Robes renew;  
Whilst jezabel his Life with labour sought,  
From Earth he is in a fiery Chariot caught,  
Leaving Elisha, who does straight inherit  
A double Portion of Elija's Spirit.    

A Dialogue between Ahab and Naboth.  
The Argument  
Naboth by Ahab sent for, waits upon  
His King, to know what 'tis he would have done,  
Who asks his Vineyard, Naboth it denies,  
For which denial, stoned with stones he dies.  Naboth. 
LOng live the King of Israel— why is it my Lord has sent to speak unto his Servant? Why is such an honour as the presence of a King conferred upon unworthy Naboth? Thus low I beg to know the reason.  Ahab. 
Rise worthy Subject, 'tis a Monarch bids you leave that Posture, 'tis your King that has a Suit to Naboth.  Na. 
Can Israel's great and glorious Prince, the Ruler of the God of Jacob's Heritage, on whose Breath my Life depends, sue to his Subject, or seek aught of him, that his obedience shall not readily comply with?  Ahab. 
You will oblige me much, if my Expectations are but answered, 'tis a small Request, yet prized by me at no low rate.  Na. 
Speak mighty Monarch! Let your Servant know your Pleasure, nay command, and be obeyed.  Ahab. 
Have you not a Vineyard joining to the Palace of your King.  Na. 
I have great Sir, your Servant has a poor Inheritage, in which he takes delight to recreate himself, and pass the flying day in rural Labour●● one while guiding the growing Tendrils where to climb, directing the rich Vines to their beloved Elm, at other while pruning the luxurious branches cultivating the hard Soil, and drawing softer Mol● about their spreading Roots; and when the long wished Harvest comes, 'tis my delight to crop the swelling Clusters, and press out the Necterous Juice, Umbraged by the lea●●e Verdure from the Sun's hot Beams, and taught to know the Works of Nature.  Ahab. 
'Tis sure you cannot but be much delighted with the pleasant divertisement, since you s●em so much transported with relating it. But to urge my meaning home; suppose your King should be desirous to possess it, Would Naboth without grudging part with what does render him such pleasure.  Na. 
How most gracious Lord— what part with my Inheritance! O let me on my knees implore my King would urge this thing no further.  Ahab. 
Nay, let not Naboth be mistaken, Ahab asks it not without a price; Its value you shall have in Ophirs of finest Gold, or else a Vineyard far exceeding it in Circuit, and abounding more in Trees, producing Nectar and Ambrosia.  Na. 
But let the King of Israel consider, that the Vineyard he demands is his poor Subjects dear Inheritage; O rather ask Life, and take it at your pleasure.  Ahab. 
Then I have sued in vain, and you but tri●le with your Prince; consider who demanded it, and mourn for your rash refusal.  Na. 
Ha— 1the King has left me, and in such a rage, as does presage no less than ruin to poor Naboth; yet let the angry Monarch use me as he please, I'll never yield to part with my Inheritance.  

Conclusion.  
In an ill time Naboth denys the King,  
Who grieves, till Jezabel does comfort bring,  
And plots the ruin of the Israelite;  
Wh●'s stoned to death, but what got Ahab by't;  
'Tis true, he has the Vineyard, but's soon slain,  
As is his Son, his Wife, and all his Train.    

A Dialogue between Jehu and Jezabel.  
The Argument.  
King Joram, and King Ahazia slain,  
To Jezreel goes Jehu with his Train,  
Where Jezabel rebukes him, but cast down  
Is slain, and by the Horses trampled on.  jez. 
Stay haughty Rebel, stay thy rapid wheels, pollute not Jezreel with thy Bazlick breath, A Queen commandeth thee to retire.  J. 
O! art thou found in all thy dazzling Pomp and Gallantry, thou baneful mischief of the world, worst of things, whose Whoredoms and prodigious Witchcrafts have caused jacob's Seed so long to mourn under the Scourge of Heaven, and polluted all the Land with blood of Innocents'.  jez. 
Ha— Inglorious Traitor, darest thou this to me, am not I still a Queen? A Queen whose nod, Whilst Ahabs power remained, made Princes startle; and whose Frowns and Smiles were sure presages of Life, or of Death; then know your distance, and be dumb.  J. 
Yes, witness the consecrated Priests that fell ● Sacrifice to your revenge! Witness the blood of Naboth, ●nd the many mischiefs more the wicked jezabel ha● done, causing not only Ahabs fall, but Jorams and unthinking Ahazia's Fates.  jez. 
How! Is joram slain, as it was reported by your cruel hand; consider well, Had Zimri peace who slew his Master; no, fierce vengeance followe●●lose, nor shall the bold aspiring jehu escape li●● mischief, but o'er taken by the stratagems of an enraged Queen: new Tortures, and unheard of Torments shall overthrow his pride, and then too late you'll know the keenest vengeance of a Queen provoked, like ahab's wife.  Jeh. 
In vain are all your threats; your power's too short to execute your will: this moment ends your malice, with your life, that so the Prophet's words may be fulfilled.— Slaves, who waits there!— Ha, A Troop of Eunuches.— Yes, yes, fit panders for a lustful Queen! Come, throw your gaudy Mistress down, that so much pride in falling, may be made the fluttering sport of Winds.  jez. 
Ha, ha, ha, can you imagine Tyrant, that those who live but by my Smiles, dare use their Queen at such a rate? Their Queen, on whom their Lives and Fortune's Centre.  Jeh. 
Dare, yes! He dies that dare gainsay, or once delay what I command.— Slaves obey, or Tortures shall force out your wretched lives. He that a moment longer trifles with my pleasure, shall not live to see the falling Sun.  jez. 
How! Slaves stand off; unhand me Villains. Dare you thus approach your Queen! Vile wretches, Monsters, damned ingrateful Monsters! Are you turned▪ Traitors too? Ah, Ah, I fall; whilst all my Pride and Glory is dashed in death. O World, instable world, for ever now adieu.  Jeh. 
So, 'tis as I wished; I knew the fawning slaves durst not refuse compliance. There let the Pride and Bane of Israel lie trampled till I take possession of the Kingdom, and extinguish ahab's house.  

Conclusion.  
The wicked Queen, with lofty falling's slain;  
Nor weltering in her blood does long remain,  
ere Dogs devour her, next her house does feel▪  
The dreadful fury of revenging Steel;  
And Baal's accursed Priest the Swords devour,  
Whilst Jehu (as God bid) does use his power.    

A Dialogical Discourse between Isaiah and Hezekiah, relating to the fifteen Additional Years.  
The Argument.  
The Syrians, by the wasteful Angel slain,  
Jerusalem is freed, but then again,  
Good Hezekiah sickens, and is bid  
To order all things as a man but dead:  
Yet prayers and tears prevail; for whilst he prays,  
God fifteen years does add unto his days.  Hez. 
HOw,— set my House in order; why must death with his cold hand, make judah Kingless, whilst in Tears the Widow Nation drowns, and the calm Air is tormented with her sighs?  Isa. 
'Tis the Decree of him that gave you life, and has preserved you to this day; by him I am commissioned to relate the doleful message, and command you to prepare for immortality.  Hez. 
Dye! O terrible; the very thoughts of Death affright me more than the Convulsions of expiring life can pain! O! Can it be, that he who ruled the chosen Seed, whose hand so long has held a golden Sceptre, and every where received the loud applauses of the glad Plebeians, must in the prime of strength and glory, have his lustre shro●ded in a Grave; and there be made the sport and food of crawling Worms.  Isa. 
Consider Sir, that you was born to die; and that stern death claims as his due, the lives of Adam's Sons, as forfeited by our great Parent, and subjected to his power; nor can the glittering vanities, in whom frail men too often put their confidence, keep back his shaft a moment, when his Commission is to seize their breath; therefore let not the King delay to set his house in order.  Hez. 
O fatal sound! but stay good Prophet, stay, is there no mercy for your King? must, must his rising Sun so soon endure a black Eclipse; his life so soon set in the gloomy Grave? O for a longer course of days, that I might live, if but to tell of all the wonders God has done for wretched me! O with what adoration would I bend before the footstool of his mercy-seat, would he be but entreated for my life.  Isa. 
Urge it n● more; Death's Harbinger I am, nor will the ghastly Terror long delay the execution; therefore be wise O King, and do as I have bid before it be too late, before the King of Judah be no more.  Hez. 
Alas! Alas! The strong Disease by preying on the vital powers, has weakened me to that degree, that now I am unfit to take recognizance of worldly things, I know not what my Treasures are, nor how to call my Fields and Vineyards by their proper names; nor can I tell the number of my Servants, nor whom I design the Sceptre of jerusalem: I have put off too long these matters, and now through fear and sickness, am quite uncapable of stating 'em; but could I live, I'd be no more so negligent.  Isa. 
Your hopes of life I fear are vain, therefore consider well what I have said; and think them not my words, but his on whom the breath of life depends: and so great King, in Tears I take my leave.  Hez. 
O stay▪ thou sacred Prophet stay, if but to close the wretched eyes of an expiring Monarch▪ Ha, will not the man of God vouchsafe to see his King put off his Sceptre, Crown, and Robes of Majesty, to be soon clad with vile corruption, loathsome putrefaction, and deserted by his cringing Courtiers, who will fly the scent, and turn their faces to adore the rising Sun. O now too plain I know, that all the glories of the world are fading shadows; things not worth our smallest care.— But see, the Prophet is returned, and my heart leapeth with joy, in expectation of some milder sentence. Speak, speak most sacred seer, is there not yet some hopes of a Reprieve for poor condemned Hezekiah.  Isa. 
There is: the God of mercy has inclined his Ear to your low supplication; your humility has conquered his displeasure, and melted▪ him into compassion: Fifteen years are added unto your days, and for a sign of confirmation, Heaven's glorious Lamp shall Retrograde no less than ten degrees upon the Dial of Ahaz.  Hez. 
I am confirmed, and dare not be so bold as to dispute aught further, than the sign he is pleased to seal his mercy with.  Isa. 
See then 'tis done; and now it much concerns you to employ this large addition to the Glory of the Donor.  Hez. 
That shall be all my care; nor will I dare to displease that God that has showed such favour to his worthless Servant as this, to snatch him from the Jaws of death, and respite his declining body from the Grave.  

Conclusion.  
Thus Hezekiah lives beyond his date,  
And joys to think of his revived fate,  
Walking uprightly till the time expires,  
And then surrenders as grim death requires▪    

A Dialogue between Hester and King Ahasuerus.  
The Argument.  
The Captive Hester to a Throne is raised.  
And by the great Ahasuerus praised,  
Subduing him with Love, whose Sceptre swayed  
All Eastern Nations, whom gre●t Kings obeyed.  Aha. 
A Happy day unto the beauteous fair, welcome thou loveliest of womankind▪ welcome my Queen, to the soft stretched out Arms of a transported Monarch; whom your charms have 〈◊〉 beyond what words can tell.  Hest. 
— Al●●, great Emperor, I blush to think that aught in me should be of force to give delight to him, whose awful word commands so many Monarches, yet at the same time must confess, a joy surprising seizes every part, that he●l vouchsafe thus to esteem his handmaid.  Aha. 
Amongst the Beauties of the Land, there's none so charming, so enchanting fair; none so worthy of a glittering Diadem as my beloved Hester; nor could so much amazing brightness (as beams from her starry eyes) shine better than upon her kind Ahasuerus. O what transports found my Age when fired by those warm Joys that spread themselves throughout all your parts.  Hest. 
It shall be still the care of your obedient Queen to do what best may please her gracious Lord; who from a low Estate has deigned to raise her high above the Persian Princesses.  Aha. 
Thou shalt be still more highly in esteem; to you shall bend all Knees: Princes shall wait upon your train; and whatsoever conduces to the Glory of the greatest Potentate shall be at your command, only be pleasing to your admirer, and Life and Death shall hang upon your breath.  Hest. 
In me, great Emperor, Obedience still shall shine; whatever you command that I can do, my readiness in a compliance with my will, shall testify the high esteem I have for him that is s●le Monarch of the East.  Aha. 
O now you charm me more than ever! now fresh Joys are struggling in my Breast: A passion rises, not to be allayed but by the soft inspiring touch of your alluring Beauties. Then let's my fair, my much beloved Queen, to our retirement; where feeding my insatiate Eyes with many an eager gaze, I will tell thee all the secrets of my heart.  Hest. 
Led me my Lord, wherever you please; for your sole will is my law.  Aha. 
Ten thousand blessings on my darling happiness; who by this acquaint humility, makes me more indebted to her Love.  

The Conclusion.  
Whilst thus we haste to joy, too great to tell,  
To streams of Love that 'bove their banks do swell.    

A Dialogue between Haman and Mordecai.  
The Argument.  
Proud Haman envies Mordecai, because  
He will not bend and break his Nations Laws;  
Yet thinking him too mean a sacrifice,  
He's not content less jacob's remnant dies.  Ham. 
HOw's this! Will not the stubborn Jew bend to the Favourite of a mighty King? To him that next his Monarch sways the Empire of the East, to whom Crowned Heads give way.  Mord. 
To man, great Sir, I dare not bend my knee▪ to God alone that Tribute I must pay; to him both heart and knee I bow, but to no mortal dare presume it, lest I rob him of his honour.  Ham. 
Seest thou not how the Servants of great Ahasuerus, far above you in the rolls of Honour, cringe when I pass by; and yet dare you refuse to Grace my state, by standing on a nicety, waving what is but in itself a Compliment: know, wretched Captain! it is not veneration due to powers Divine, that I expect, but such obeisance as becomes a Monarch's Counsellor, the chief among the Princes.  Mord. 
'Tis what I cannot give. In this case vain is all you urge; nor dare I pass such Compliments.  Ham. 
You dare not; nay, you will not: it is your proud and stubborn nature, or a set design to cast a stain upon my greatness; which may in some measure shroud its lustre. But, by sad experience you shall quickly know, whose anger you provoke by your irreverence; such havoc, such a slaughter shall be made of your stiffnecked Tribe, that e'er the silver Moon twi●e wain her Orb, not one shall live in all the Coasts of Media, or the Land made fruitful by the Streams of Euphrates. The thing is resolved, and I will about it straight.  Mord. 
There is a God that limits your fierce rage, that can in the midst of a●l your pride, bring your ambition low, and frustrate all your wicked purposes; nor shall the means to move him to compassionate his Captive People, be by Mord●●ai neglected. Prayers and Fasting shall be rise throughout the scattered Tribes; nor must the Queen's endeavours want to cross the purposes of this bloodthirsty man▪ whose fall will let him know experimentally, there is a God that can correct his insolence.— Yet must these measures speedily be put in execution, to supersede the mischief his dire malice is swelled big with, lest innocence should suffer for what is unjustly called a crime in me. First then I will haste and let the Queen know his intentions.  

Conclusion.  
Haman his sure obtains, it is decreed,  
That all the Captive Jews should quickly bleed.  
For Mordecais neglect the day is set,  
Which causes lamentations loud and great:  
But Counter-plotted is the bloody man,  
And hanged at last for what himself had done.  
Nor scape his Sons, but fall into the snare,  
Their wicked Father boldly durst prepare  
For those that were not guilty of a crime;  
So let Ambition fall where e'er it climb.    

Haman on the Gallows.  
HAman the Son of Amedatha, of the Kindred of Agag, and the People of Amalek, were highly favoured by Ahasuerus Emperor of Persia. I find not what precious properties he had; sure he was a Pearl in the Eye of Ahasuerus, who commanded all his Subjects to do lowly reverence unto him; only M●rdecai the jew excepted himself from the rule, denying him the payment of so humble observance.  
I fathom not the depths of Mordecais refusal, perchance Haman interpreted this reverence farther than it was intended, as a divine honour, and therefore Mordecai would not blow wind into so empty a bladder, and be accessary to puff him up with self-conceit; or because Amalek was the Devils first fruits, which first broke the peace with Israel, and God commanded an Antipathy against them, or he had some private countermand from God, not to reverence him: Whatever it was, I'd rather accuse myself of Ignorance, than Mord●cai of Pride.  
Haman swells at this neglect, will not his knees bow? his neck shall break within a Halter; but oh! this was but poor and private revenge; one Lark will not fill the belly of s●ch a Vulture. What if Mordecai will not stoop to Haman, must Haman stoop to Mordecai to be revenged of him alone? Wherefore he plotteth with the King's Sword to cut off the whole Nation of the jews.  
Repairing to Ahasuerus, he requested that all the jews might be destroyed. He backs his Petition with three Arguments: first, it was a scattered Nation, had they inhabited one entire Country, their extirpation would have weakened his Empire, but being dispersed, though killed every where, they would have been miss no where; secondly, his Empire would be more uniform, when this irregular People, not observing his Laws, were take● away; ten thousand Talents Haman would pay into the Bargain, into the King's Treasure.  
What, out of his own Purse? I see his Pride was above his Covetousness; and spiteful men count the revenge a purchase which cannot be over bought; or perchance this Money should arise out of the confiscation of their Goods. Thus Ahasuerus should lock all the jews into his Chest, and by h●●p of Hamans' Chemistry convert them into silver. See how this grand destroyer of a whole Nation pleads the King's profit. Thus our puny depopulators allege, for doing the King and their Country good; and we will believe them, when they can persuade us that the private Coffers are the King's Exchequer, But never any wounded the Common Wealth, but first they kissed it, pretending the public good.  
Hamans' Silver is Dross with Ahasuerus, only his pleasure is currant with him: If Haman will have it so, so it shall freely be, he will give him and not sell him his Favour.  
'Tis woeful when great Judges see Parties accused by other men's eyes, but condemn them by their own mouths. And now Posts were sent throughout all Persia to execute the King's cruel decree. I had almost forgotten, how before this time Mordecai had discovered the Treason, which two of the King's Chamberlains had plotted against him, which good Service of his, though not presently paid, yet was scored up in the Chronicles, not rewarded but recorded, where it slept, till a due occasion did awaken it. Perchance haman's envy kept it from the King's knowledge; and sometimes Princes to reward the desert of Men, want not mind, but minding of it.  
To proceed; see the jews all pitifully pensive, and fasting in Sakcloath and Ashes, even to Queen esther herself, (which unknown to Haman) was one of that Nation. And to be brief, Esther invites Ahasuerus and Haman to a Banquet, whose life shall shall pay the reckoning, and next day they are both invited to a second Entertainment.  
Mean time Haman provides a Gallows fifty Cubits high, to hang Mordecai o●; fi●e Cubit● would have served the turn; and had it took effect, the b●●ght of the Gallows had bu● se● his Soul so much ●he farther on his journey towards Heaven; his Stomach was so sharp set, he could not stay till he had dined on all the jews, but first he must break his fast on Mordecai, and fit it was that this bell-wether should be sacrificed before the rest of the flock, wherefore he comes to the Court to get leave to put him to death.  
The night before Ahasuerus had passed without sleep, the Chronicles are called for either to invite Slumber, or to entertain waking with the less tediousness. God's hand in the Margin points Reader to the place were Mordecai's Good service was related, and Ahasuerus a●keth Haman (newly come to his presence) what shall be done to the Man, whom the King delighted to honour?  
Haman being now (as he thought) to measure his own happiness, had been much to blame if he made it not of the largest size. He cats out a Garment of Honour, Royal both for matter and making, for Mordecai to wear: By the King's command, he becomes Mordeca's Herald and Page, lacqueying by him, riding on the King's Steed, (who he hoped by this time would have mounted the Wooden Horse) and then pensive in Heart, hasts home to bemoan himself to his Friends· Hamans' Wife proves a true Prophetess, presaging his ruin. If the Feet of a Favourite begin to slip on the steep Hill of Honour, his own weight will down with him to the bottom; once past Noon with him, 'tis presently night. For at the next Feast, Ahasuerus is mortally incensed against him, for plotting the Death of Esther, with the rest of her people. For had his project succeeded, probably the jews had not been spared for a Jew being Queen, but the Queen had been killed for being a jew. Haman in a careless sorrowful posture, more minding his Life than his Lust, h●d cast himself on the Queen's bed, Will he force the Queen, said Ahasuerus, before me in the House. These words rang his passing Bell in the Court, and according to the Persian Fashion, they covered hi● Face, putting him in a winding sheet that was dead in the King's Favour. The next news we he●r o● him is, that by exchange, Haman inherits the Gibbe● of Mordecai, and Mordecai the House and greatness of Haman. The decree against the jews being generally reversed.   

A Dialogue between Job and his Wife.  
The Argument.  
Job's wicked Wife does urge him to despair,  
And curse that God that of him still took care:  
But wisely he rejects her cursed advice,  
And is restored to's former Paradise.  Wife. 
WHat a strange temper is this! Can job still cringe and bend to him, who from the height of happiness suffered him unpityless to fall under such a load of sad adversity? Know you not yet your substance is destroyed; your Sons that should have been the comfort of your Age, slain; and yourself in every part, afflicted with tormenting, torturing and consuming Sores.  Job. 
Yet must we not repine, since it is the pleasure of that great Omnipotent who made us out of nothing, breathed into us breath of life; and from whom all we did enjoy, proceeded.  Wife. 
Yet better it is you never had had being, than to be thus contemptible, thus miserable, to undergo this ill-stared; what wellcomer can be than death, to one who labours under such an Agony? Then turn your praises into curses, that his wrath may vex yet hotter; and by putting a full period to your days, take you from this sad world of wo.  Job. 
Base wicked woman, vile and foolish; darest thou let a thought so monstrous harbour in thy breast! much more, how darest thou urge me to such damned Impiety? Shall Job, on whom he showered his favours, once move his lips, though in the softest murmur, when he is pleased to stay his giving hand, or call back what he gave; no, nothing ever shall prompt me to a guilt so horrible.  Wife. 
Then you it seems will suffer patiently, and stand the mark of fierce indignation tamely.  Job. 
Whatever he inflicts it is for our good; his chastening is to try if we are worthy of his favours; nor will he wound beyond what he designs to heal. His mercies are past numbering, which in the midst of judgement he oft calls to mind, and makes a full recompense for what he takes away; therefore ever will I praise, and with just adoration bless his holy name; nay though he kill me, yet will I trust in him; and with dying Arms embrace the wounding Shaft sent by his hand to let out life.  Wife. 
Well, well, I see then all I urge will work no effect on your meek mind, enured to slavery, serve him still, and be the subject of his Tyranny; bear all the Stripes he can bestow; and fawning, kiss the hand that strikes you: do this and more, whilst loud I laugh at the dull man that hugs his misery, and will not deign to pity him.  Job. 
All you have said is my resolve, no pain, nor loss, nor scorn, shall shake my dear integrity; all torments witty horror can invent, were they comprised in one, shall never break my constancy, or make me prove a Rebel to the King of Heaven: but with Faith unmoved I will trust in him till life's last Sand is run, expecting then to see him as he is, and Hymn his. Throne with Songs of praise.  Wife. 
If that be your resolve, I will fly the Mansion of such sorrow, and seek shelter elsewhere, whilst his Arrows beat on you.  Job. 
Yet shall I not be comfortless; his hand shall still sustain me, and my Eyes shall yet see happy days.  

The Conclusion.  
Thus Job bears through afflictions stream, which passed,  
He is restored to health and Riches vast,  
And once more is the Glory of the East▪  
Nor dare the fiend his quiet than molest;  
So those that trust in God are ever blest.    

A Dialogue between Saul and his Armourbearer on Gilboa.  
The Argument.  
Saul routed flies, but finding flight was vain,  
He and his Armourbearer both are slain.  S. 
NOw, now, 'tis almost come to pass as the grim Ghost related; Israel is overthrown, My Sons are slain in Battle, and the bloody Foe makes havoc of the flying people.  A. B. 
Great King, 'tis true, the smiling Plains that looked so gay, when first saluted by the Morning Sun put on a crimson Robe, and wear instead of Flora's many coloured mantle, the sad Livery of Death.  S. 
Yet Saul still lives,— he lives to see the mighty ruin— to see his Children slain, and all his mighty men of War fall by the Sword.  A. B. 
And still may live to be revenged of his now Tyrannising Foes, live to return as many deaths as now his Eyes behold the Philistines to triumph in.—  S. 
O! Name not Life, for that is the only thing that now is grievous to me— Wretch that I am, why did I fly? why fell I not amidst the file● of War? Why, why did not I break through the pointed Squadrons, and there bravely fight, rushed upon a thousand Swords, and from a thousand enraged hands received a Death that well beseemed ● Monarch.  A. B. 
O! Let not Israel's King despair; although the Fortune of the War now turns against him, ●et fresh Armies may be raised, and the Foe repelled; live, live? If but to be revenged.  S. 
No— Heaven decrees my fall, and cutting short my Glories, dates them with this day, draw then your Sword, and e'er the Philistines overtake us, sheath it in my Breast, f●r now my Life is grown burdensome.  A. B. 
What means the King by this command, can be imagine that his Servant dares stret●● 〈◊〉 his ●and against the Lords anointed.  S. 
O let me beg you would not dispute what I request, Renown and Glory will attend you for so brave a Deed, nor can you do me better service than to let out my afflicted Soul.  A. B. 
Command me to kill myself, and I will obey, 〈◊〉 bid me meet the following Foe, and charge A Squadron with my single Arm, I'll gladly do it, but dare not stretch my hand against my Sovereign.  S. 
The Enemy is now at our heels, and time admits no longer argument; see— see without your ●elp, your King can find a way to the dread Palace 〈◊〉 magnificent Death: Whilst falling thus— upon ●is Sword, his loathed Life takes flight.  A. B. 
Hold, hold my Lord for Heavens—▪ ●is past recall, the desperate Deed is done, the cru●● word has pierced his Heart, and I'll not long survive; 〈◊〉 imitating his Example, fall thus by his side, 'tis 〈◊〉, 'tis done, my blood flows fast, now, now I swim 〈◊〉 dazy mists, and now a gloomy darkness seals my 〈◊〉. dies·s  

Conclusion.  
Saul slain with his three Sons, the haughty Fo●  
Cuts off his Head, and his guilt Armour show  
In all their Coasts, possessing Jacob's Towns▪  
And much enlarging their own scanty bounds:  
Nor so contented, but the Corpse of Saul  
They fasten to subdued Bethshan's wall:  
But thence the jabish Gileadites it rest,  
And for the burying of their Lord are blest.    

David saluted King.  
DAvid, who after Gods own Heart, was chose,  
Having escaped the danger of his Foes,  
Run through the hazards, numerous to tell;  
Saul slain, he's crowned great King of Israel;  
Him the Glad People from all Cities meet,  
And loudly sing his praises in each Street.  
Though Saul's rejected House does strive with him  
For Jacob's Sceptre and bright Diadem;  
Yet 'tis in vain, Heaven soon does end the strife,  
Whilst mighty Abner is bereft of Life.  
When as the Darling, from whose Loins must spring  
The great Messia, Heavens all Glorious King,  
In Triumph rides, all fearless, and does see  
How much he owes for his felicity▪  
To his Creator, by whom Kings command,  
On whom their regal Glories all depend;  
Who sets them bounds, and limits Kingly sway,  
Chastizing those that dare but disobey  
His strict resolves, whose will alone is Fate,  
And whose bare word can all annihilate.   

David's kindness to Mephibosheth.  
KIng David high established in his Throne,  
On former dangers safely now looks down,  
Remembering how Saul sought his Life, and ho●  
Between him and kind jonathan a vow,  
Passed in the great Iehova's sacred Name;  
Then calls to mind Mephibosheth, who lame,  
And in distress, was Son to him, who still  
Had held him dear, preventing the dire will  
Of Death conspiring Saul, and that he must  
Relieve his wants, or prove himself unjust,  
Revolving thus, he sent a message great  
To his low House, who thinking now his Fate  
A pace dr●w on, and that his doom was past,  
Came trembling, and thus to the King at last,  
Through abrupt stammerings soft speech broke its way;  
O pardon mighty King, your slave does pray,  
Nay prostrate on his knees implores that he  
A guiltless Man, for others guilt may die.  
The Smiling Monarch soon perceives his fears  
And with kind words does quickly hush his cares,  
Commanding Royal Robes o'er him be cast,  
And he thenceforth be at his Table placed,  
Which banished Fear, and made him joy as fast.   

A Dialogue between David and Bersheba.  
The Argument.  
Bersheba's tempting Beauties snares the King,  
Who straight commands his Servants, and they bring  
Uria's charming Wife, whom David wins,  
To sport, and add fresh number to his Sins.  〈◊〉. 
WHat would my Lord with me, the lowliest of his Handmaids? why ●is Honour heaped on me thus unexpectedly, to introduced into the closet of a King.  〈◊〉 
There is a mighty Cause,— See at your feet a ●arch bends, and wounds the Air with sighs.  〈◊〉 
O! Rise my Lord for Heaven's sake, what 〈◊〉 you by this compliment.  〈◊〉 
Thus low to beg a Favour of the fair enchanting 〈◊〉.  B. 
Of me! Beg aught of me, what can the valiant, the Victorious King of Israel request, th●t is in my power to give, when tribu●ary Nations heap on him the Riches of the Eastern World, and Sceptred Princes pay him Homage.  D. 
O! Read my blushes, and you'll know what it is that I petition for, or if you understand the Language of my Eyes, they'll tell you plain 'tis in your power to ease my labouring restless thoughts.  B. 
Alas my Lord I understand you not, or if I do, I dare not.  D. 
How dare not— Can so much Beauty, so much brightness, in whose lovely Face the Graces chose t● dwell— be cruel, when a Sceptre is at her feet.  B. 
Cruel! great Monarch, no my nature is too soft to harbour cruelty; consider I am a woman.  D. 
Yes, and the wonder of your Sex, the glorious Masterpiece, and chiefest boast of Nature, who started when she form you to behold a work so fair, and cried a lucky hit.  B, 
O me! You'll make me blu●h to death, if thus you flatter your unworthy Handmaid.  D. 
Such Beauty as adores the lovely Bersheba, is not capable of flattery, but casts it off, as Crystal dx●● her stains; the utmost praises of the smoothest Tong●● cannot enough describe your rare Perfections, O! how 〈◊〉 fair Cheeks the Roses and the Lillys strive for mastery▪ How your bright Eyes, more bright than rising Stars ● dart Beams of comfort; what Nectre dwells upon th●● ruby Lips, enclosing Orient Pearls, and what a fragrant send they forth, what curling Amber dangles on your ●ory Shoulders, and how those gentle Hills of war● Snow expose the happy Vails between— Oh! I am ●●●vished with a Sight so much transporting,— Oh! languish, and shall soon expire, unless you yield 〈◊〉 Love.  B. 
How, love my Lord, is that the thing 〈◊〉 press your handmaid for.  D. 
Yes Love, and an enjoyment of those Beauties I admire; grant these, and be sole Mistress of a Monarch's Heart.  B. 
Alas my Lord, know you not I am Vria's Wife.  D. 
I do, but you was born to be a Queen, and this happy Womb designed to be the first abo●e of Prince's, those Breasts to nourish him, who after me must wield the Sceptre of Jerusalem.  B. 
O speak no more my Lord, it never can be.  D. 
Yes you shall be adorned with Robes of Majesty, and with an awful nod, command the Knees of cringing Courtiers.  B. 
But would you have me, for the trif●ng honours that attend on state, break my marriage vows, sully my Virtue, and leave a lasting stain upon my Father's House.  D. 
Uria is my Servant, fight now against the Amorites— All shall be done in secret, what we do shall not reach his Ears.  B. 
Yet if I should dishonour him, by giving myself into the arms, though of a Monarch; how if he should come to know it, should I look him in the face, or stand the fury of an enraged Husband.  D. 
Let not such thoughts disturb my Love, my Power and Credit shall protect your Fame; what tongue, and d●●es move against the darling Favourite of a King; Come, come thou all composed of transport and delight, trifle not with a Monarch's Passion, till it quite burn out, and in expiring leave him miserable.  B. 
'Tis true my Lord. I am your subject, and ●ought not to dispute your will, but yet methinks ●n this case—  D. 
Come, come thou beauteous Object of my thought, 〈◊〉 these vain fears aside, and let us retire straight to 〈◊〉 Alcove strewed all with Roses and with fragrant ●essimine, shining with Saphiers, dazzling Diamonds ●nd Rubies, overlaid with Gold Embroidery, studded every where with Orient Pearl, and wrought by the most curious needle work of Egypt and Palestine, a soft recumbancy that can only be suitable to the dazzling beauties of my Bersheba.  B. 
My Lord I am amazed at what you tell, and am unworthy to approach a place so glorious, or if I should presume, it might set me a longing the o●tner to see it, than perhaps might be convenient.  D. 
O no my Love, it can be only graced by your fair Eyes, then let us hence, and in the midst of transports I'll relate what you must needs delight to hear.  B. 
To your conduct my Lord, I recommend myself, you are my Sovereign, 〈◊〉 i'll not prove disobedient to what you command.  D. 
In this your kind, and thus to joys we hast, A Queen thou shalt be when some days are past,  

Conclusion.  
Bersheba yields, and by the King conceives  
Vria sent for, David's Army leaves,  
But will not b●d his Wife, the crime to hide:  
For which he by the sword of Ammon died  
When David takes his Love, but scarce enjoyed  
Is she again, ere the Infant is destroyed;  
And A●●alom against him does rebel,  
In which the Rebel and his Army fell.    

A Dialogue between Amnon and Tamar  
The Argument.  
Amnon does feign him sick, and begs o'th' King  
That Tamar may Provision to him bring:  
B●t 'tis a Pl●t, incestuously to gain  
His lustful will, and his chaste Sister slain.  Am. 
WHy is it my lovely Sister that 〈◊〉 slight me thus, what have I done th● you should prove regardless at this rare? wherefore neglect you him that loves you as his Life?  Ta. 
My Brother, it was far from Tamar 's knowledge that you were indisposed; the fi●st news I received was from the King, our Father.  Am. 
That's strange; I thought the Son of David could not have been in such disorder, but the Court e, re now had rung on it.  Tam. 
I feared indeed you was not well by reason of your absence, but ●ad the relation from non● but 〈◊〉 I named. But what is the reason all your Servant's a●e retired?  Amn. 
It was my command; because I would be private with my lovely Sister.  Tam. 
Ha! What means this eager gazing on me? Why this wildness in your looks? Why tremble you, and wherefore ebbs and flows the blood in your disordered Countenance? Sure you are taken with s●me sudden 〈◊〉; shall I go and call the King's Ph●sitians?  Amn. 
It needs not; you are the only Physician can case my grief: it is you alone can s●●e your Brother's life.  Tam. 
Alas, I have no skill in Physic; ●now not 〈◊〉 disease.  Amn. 
You bear about you what will ease my ●●in. The distemper that torments me i● Lov●s ●urning Fever, which long time h●s pr●y'd upon ●y spirits.  Tam. 
Love.— Why, can you conceive y●●r Si●ter ●●tes you? Sure you will not injure her so much.  Amn. 
Then come to my Arms, my lovely dear, ●ar enchanting Tamar, and con●ei● me none of David's Son.  Tam. 
How— why, am not I your Sis●e●?— Ha●, ●hat mean you by this roughness?  Amn. 
To satiate myself with love, and quench ●e Feavorish passion of my mind with Tamars' Vir●n Beauties.  Tam. 
Consider 'tis not lawful: wherefore then should Amnon shame himself and me by such a f●lly.  Amn. 
My fierce un●ounded passion has no room for reason; and therefore urge not any thing in opposition to my vast desire.  Tam. 
If you love me, as you say, forbear to violate a● Sister's Honour, and demand me of the King in Marriage, that Jacob 's Sons may all applaud your Wisdom.  Amn. 
In vain is all you urge. This hour, this hour is that wherein I chose to perfect my felicity▪ Than tamely yield what I request, or by my Father's Sceptre, thus I will force a passage ●o my Joys.  Tam. 
Why sure you dare not once approach your Sister with a design to force her Honour.  Amn, 
What dares not Love attempt when it grows high; when reason is wracked, and virtue bears no form.  Tam. 
Oh! Look not thus severely wild upon me; poor me, a wretch betrayed into your power! Consider, you are David 's Son, and I his much loved Daughter: If not for mine, yet for our Father's sake; if not for love, yet in dread of his fierce Anger, send me hence at this ●ime undefiled, that I may n●t bec●me a byword 〈◊〉 the Daughters of the Land. T●us low upon my knees, I beg it of my dear, dear Brother.  Amn. 
To all your plaints I will be as deaf as Seas▪ were they as loud as fight Winds, I'd not regard them. My desperate resolves are fixed immovable as Mountains, or the Wave-rep●llin● Rocks, against whom (in vain) the dashing Surge● roar. No Storms at Sea, nor Ships in them, Ablaze with whirling sums that make the Topmast crac● creates more terror than my wild desire. And sinc● you will not tamely yield, but trifle with a passion hot as Ae●na's mounting Fires, with these stron● Arms I force you to my bed.  Tam. 
O help, help, help for Heaven's sake! I wi●● die, I will die before my honour. O spare me, spa●● me! Oh, Oh, Oh wretched, wretched me! what shall I do, I am undone, undone for ever.  Amn. 
Now the trifling shadow you so prized is gone; and I have surfeited upon your sullied Beauties. Therefore hence with speed, lest a worse ruin fall upon you; and for the future, know what it is coily to parley with a Princes Love.  Tam. 
O never, never will I hence; but where I lost my honour, there I will lose my Life. See, see my Bosom bare to stand your utmost fury; sheath, sheathe your welcome Dagger in a Breast polluted by your Breath.  Amn. 
No, your Life is too mean a sacrifice for my Revenge; but since you dare continue here against my will, I will call my Servants to remove you. What— ho— See, see, they come. Io. Bear this Woman hence; and see that all be made fast after her, 'tis I your Lord commands it, see it be quickly done.  Tam. 
This, this is cruelty beyond degree: O may the just avenger judge my cause, and recompense my wrongs upon your wicked, your incestuous head, that all such Monsters for the future, may take warning by your fall. She is forced out, etc.  

Conclusion.  
Tamar thus forced and driven out, does fly  
With Garments rend, and many a piteous cry  
To Absalon: who smothers his fierce rage,  
Till at a Sheepshearing he does engage  
The guilty Amnon; causing him to fall;  
Which on his head great David's wrath do●s call.    

A Dialogue between Absalon and Joab.  
The Argument.  
Absalon flying tangled in an Oak,  
Where Joab finding him, the fatal stroke  
Forbid by David: the bold youth receives,  
Which him of Life i'th' midst of Treason reaves.  Abs. 
O Fatal mischief! What could worse befall me, than thus to struggle betwixt Heaven and Earth, not being capable of reaching either; but here, for aught I know, must be the sport of whistling Winds, and dangle till I die? Nor is this all; my Glory is no more: the battle is gon● against me, and my bold Confederates in Rebellion fallen by the Sword. My Conscience stings me with remorse, and all the dreadful shapes that have been ●eigned, methinks glare on me, and deride the posture I am in.— But hark, the rushing Boug●s give way, and trampling of Horses now invade mine Ear. Ha, 'tis the Foe, the bloody-minded joab; now death is near to ease my pain, and welcome is it to afflicted Absalon.  Joab. 
Ha, Rebel, are you taken in a snare? H●w strangely ha● eternal providence fast hampered him, whose Life with eagerness I sought?  Abs. 
joab, consider who I am; think on King David, and the charge he gave you.  Joab. 
I have considered, and am come resolved to put a period to his life that durst rebel against a too indulgent Father, and with impious Arms, not only seek ●is Crown and Life, but trouble peaceful Israel with unexpected War.  Abs. 
My Crimes I grant, and tremble at what headstrong rashness prompted me to undertake▪ yet what injury have you sustained. Let him whom I have injured pass my doom; let him drain out the Rebel's blood, that Absalon well pleased at his revenge, may bless with dying murmurs the kind hand that gives the wound.  Joab. 
In vain; you ask a favour that will not be granted.— No, the King is too indulgent; and will melt in mercy towards him that urged his ruin, and perhaps may be inclined to hearken to your protestations of future obedience; and in pardoning, give you opportunity to reach his life. Therefore—  Abs. 
Therefore what— Sur●ly you dare not touch a life the King would save: a life that is so dear to David.  Joab. 
Yes Traitor, Joab dare, and came resolved to make the Rebel bleed; to let out that rank blood that has infected the unstable Tribes.  Abs. 
Does it become a man of War to bait a Lion thus in the toils; Thus to reproach a Prince, at whose bare beck (when high in favour) you wo●ld fly, and humbly cringe to kiss the ground whereon he trod, and fawning on him for self-interest, flatter his Ambition till it swollen him into ruin.  Joab. 
I will hear no more, but Thus— become the messenger of your death.— Thus make a passage for your Rebel-Soul.  Abs. 
O! I am slain; my blood and Abners▪ be ●pon your head,— that— blood.— thou-hast-so— ●●sely sh— sh— shed—  Joab. 
So, I have cropped the bold aspiring Rebel in the ●l●om of all his glory, and given peace to Israel. Here, ●ake him down, and cast him in this deep pit; the● 〈◊〉 his Carcase with a pile of massy stones, that so 〈◊〉 memory may be forgot.  

Conclusion.  
The Captain slain, the battle ceases, straight  
The crooked Trumpets sound a still retreat:  
Then word is sent the King of all that's done,  
Who full of grief sheds Royal Tears alone  
For his slain Son; which makes the Conqueror's steal  
Into the City, and themselves conceal:  
Till joabs' threats oblige him to descend,  
And comfort that did his life defend.    

A Dialogue between Solomon and Pharoah's Daughter.  
The Argument.  
Old David dead, King Solomon enthroned,  
Weds Egypt's Princess in his ●wn abode;  
Rich are they both in all that men approve,  
But more than usual, are they rich in Love.  Sol. 
THrice welcome to a Monarch's Arms, my lovely Queen; whose Eyes enlightened swarthy Egypt's face, and whose enchanting Beauties charm the heart of Solomon.  Queen. 
My Lord; you cannot love, nor yet admi●● me more than (blushing I must own, though with ● feel joy) my fancy feeds on you.  Sol. 
Then are we happy far above ●he reach o● Fate; and may look down as from some Towering height, and pity those that toil and labour fo● ought le●s than Love.  Qu. 
'Tis that indeed my Lord, that can best contri●but● to man's felicity; for where it is absent, nothing but disorder and confus●●n rule.  Sol. 
It is true, my solace and my dear delight nor has the great establisher of my exalted Thron●●een wanting to add this blessing to the rest; 〈◊〉 with paternal care placed a Spring of Cordials 〈◊〉 Essential Love in either breast.  Qu. 
A Spring indeed that flows with Nectar and Ambrosial joys, more than our hearts are capable, without overflowing to receive.  Sol. 
'Tis such a blessing Princes seldom meet with, since their Eyes make not their choice; but they are still forced to take their hopes of happiness on trust.  Qu. 
Although they are; yet the great wise disposer of the world's affairs so order it, that at first sight their hearts do mostly move in a sweet harmony, supplying the defect of tedious Courtship.  Sol. 
Then since Heaven's Architect the glorious maker of the Universe, has ordered all things equal to our wish; wha● more remains, but that with unpolluted Souls ●nd Bodies, day ●y day we send up Tribute-praise●, and with all humility adore his goodness.  Qu. 
You know m● Lord, what G●ds the sons of Egypt worship; I doubt no● but you have heard of Isis and Osiris, who are dreaded through the Memphian Coast of seven horned Nilus hundred pointed plain.  Sol. 
With detestation I have heard them named, and tremble to think, that the Sons of Adam should still b● so senseless as to Worship Monsters, or at most, 〈◊〉 stooks inspired b● Hellish f●e●ds.  Cue, 
A●e they no Gods then? Sure it is, I have heard th●m speak, and tell strange things.  Sol. 
Ye●▪ as the magic ●owers of darkness have inspired. G●ds they a●e n●t, but base deluding forms to blind the ea●●e ●ulgar; the advice of Egypt's Magi.  Qu. 
Who is it then that guards, protects and guides us in our great affairs.  Sol. 
The glorious tremendous Majesty of Heaven, whose name is known in Israel; who made the wonders that are every where beheld; at whose brightness Angels fall their Faces, and in whose hand is all the breath of Life: the God who made the World of nothing, and whose power shall raise us after d●ath, and bring us (if we trust in him) to Mansions of eternal bliss, where with Ages numberless we shall rejoice, and join in Chorus with the dazzling Cherubims and Seraphims to sing hi● praise.  Qu. 
You tell me wonders, such as never entered at my Ears; but where does such transcendent excellency dwell? What place is capable to shroud such Majesty.  Sol. 
His dwelling is above all lights; nor is he circumscribed: for though Heav●n is his Throne and Earth his Footstool, yet the Heaven of Heavens cannot contain him; he fills all places, and communicates his bounty with a liberal hand to all his Creatures; riding (when he pleases) on the Winds spread Wings, and often makes the Deep his Chamber. Clouds are his Pavilion; and thick darkness is his secret place: whilst his bright beaming Eyes behold the abstrusest things, and pierce our secret thoughts.  Q. 
Wonderful and much amazing is what you relate, nor could I ere believe that this vast Fabric could so so many thousand years continue in perpetual Harmony unguided, unsustained, nor sinks it into my weak Breast, ●hat Fate or chance rules all below, but that each stand to the Law of over ruling Providence.  S. 
Your thoughts were not in vain, were it possible that power, that sacred essential Divinity would withdraw his care, and his conduct by creation, so on would totter; and the warring Element●●onfound the glorious Fabric; nay Heavens brigh● Lamps would mix w●th Earth's Impurity; natures concord than would break, and all return to a con●used Chaos, if not quite vanish into nothing, when ●t was derived,— but let us at this time enquir● no further into these stupendious secrets, but with ●oy and fear ador● the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, Even Jacob's mighty God, by whom, through whom, in whom all things were made, preserv●d, and have continuance.  Q. 
My Lord shall be obeyed, i'll wade no further, in these devious deeps, but at an awful distance revere that dazzling brightness, that essential good who shines so glorious in his creature's.  S. 
Observe what you have said, and then expect for ever to be blest; but now time calls away, we must this moment to the House of high magnificence, built to the honour of his Name, who shakes Earth, and rends the Clouds with Thunder, before whose face, when wrath, goes a consuming fire, to burn up Rebel Atheists that disown his power.  Q. 
My Lord, I g●e, and from this day shall make it my chief Care to contemplate him and his mighty wonders, and next to admire the man I love.  

Conclusion.  
The promise holds not with the feeble Sex,  
For with strange Gods she soon does jacob vex,  
Causing the Heart of Solomon to stray,  
Where Wisdom dwelled, and sometimes lose his way.    

The justice and Magnificence of King solomon's Court.  
Bold Adonija's hasty Treason dashed,  
And all his hopes, when but in Embryo pash●▪  
Old David sees his Son anointed King,  
And to the Throne they him no sooner bring,  
But executing his dead Father's will,  
joabs' and Shimei's blood his Sword does spill;  
The Harlot's case decides wise Solomon,  
And gets renown, no sooner was this done  
But at hi● c●ois● Wisdom and Honour stand;  
With Riches more than Avarice can command;  
But the two last, as fading things, he cast  
Behind his back, and the bright Queen embraced:  
All glorious Wisdom, eldest born of Heaven,  
For which the others were as handmaids given  
To wait on her, and next the King proceeds  
To Famous, glorious, and amazing Deeds,  
A mortal man does build a House for him,  
Who rides upon the Starry Cherubin:  
What David had designed, his Sceptred Son,  
Will have with Speed, and countless cost begun,  
Mount Lebanon with Axes loudly sounds,  
Whilst cloud-invading Cedars kiss the gro●nd,  
The Rocks hard entrails are in pieces torn,  
And Gold from all the Richest Lands is born;  
From Ganges to Hydaspes' Crystal Streams  
Are brought the Glittering glorious Gems,  
The Silver Mines exhausted every where,  
And dies the richest Grain with softest hair  
Of Beasts, but rarely seen, hard to be caught,  
And all were by most curious workmen wrought,  
Before they were set up, that there no sound  
Of Axe or hammer, the calm Air might wound;  
But that what had been said, might be fulfilled,  
That he should then a peaceful Temple build,  
Of sixty Cubits length, of twenty broad,  
And thirty high, a Mansion for the God  
Of jacob, who established his high Throne,  
In peace and truth, whilst none more great was known,  
Adding a Porch of twenty Cubits long,  
And ten in breadth, compiled of Marble Strong;  
Whilst all within the doors and walls did shine  
With Gold and Gems, Mozaick work divine  
In every place appeared, Each place was bright  
By the reflection of so rich a Light,  
All woods of price were there, each overlaid  
With Gold expanded, or brigh● Silver spread,  
Studded with orient Pearls, and Rubies fair,  
Jasper● and Jacincts too were shining there,  
Crystal, and Topaz, Beril, Ama●hists,  
And glittering Diamonds, no stone there was missed  
That could contribute to the dazzled sight  
Of wondering man, or give his Eyes delight;  
Palm T●●●s that flourish and still seemed to bloom,  
Adorn'● the stately place, and all the Room,  
With shapes of golden Cherubims was set;  
But those ●hat spread above the Mercy Seat  
W●re terrible to the beholder's eyes,  
As those that fill the Sacred Throne with cries  
Of Holy, holy— for God chose to dwell  
In th'inmost place, to guide his Israel  
●y sacred Oracle: All this, and more  
The King performed with Treasure, wondrous store  
In sev●n ●●●rs space, and all the Vessels brought  
Into the House, for sacred uses wrought;  
When Sacrificing with loud praise, a Cloud  
Enclosing, dazzling brightness soon does shroud  
The mighty Fabric, than the Heavenly Guest,  
Who had the Labour, and the Labourers blessed  
Descended, and well pleased, the place possessed.  
Wonder of wonders, so amazing great,  
That none can think on't, but must wonder at;  
That he who crowned with rays of brightness, he  
Whom Angels dare not, without vailing, see,  
Should take up his abode with wretched Man,  
Who's but a Vapour, Fading Grass, a Span,  
A Bubble, Shadow, Smoak, or what is less,  
A thought, that's past; O how can man express  
Sufficient Praise for such, such Humility  
In him who made all things ere they could see.   

A Dialogue between King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.  
The Argument.  
From distant Lands with a most splendid Train  
Came Sheba's Queen to hear the King explain  
Mysterious things, and is p●●a●d to find  
A King so Rich, so wise, so Just and Kind.  Q. S. 
I Plainly see great King of Israel, that babbling Fame has not been over lavish, as too oft she's wont, in setting forth theGl●ries of your Court such Magnificence as every where appears, my Eyes in all their tedious search never viewed before: 'Tis true, the Prince's Treasure and his Mind must both be great, that could ere●t such glorious Fabrics.  S. 
Illustrious Qu●en, whose awful S●epter stretches its Commands through the wide Sabean Coast, consider this aspiring Mansion was not built for Mortal Man, but for the dread Reception of the Mighty God of jacob, who is pleased to dwell therein, and condescend to an acceptance of his Servants Sacrifice, and mean oblations.  Q. S. 
It seems no less, and well befits a Deity, ●or dare the Nations round you boast their Gods enshrined in such a glorious Palace.  S. 
The Gods they worship are unworthy of their lowly Cells— base Idols— But the workmanship of foolish Hands, and those that make them, are much like unto them.  Q. S. 
'Tis true, they are but senseless Images, take them simply, but inspired by Powers invisible, they tell strange wonders, and point at the Nations Fates.  S. 
Y●t those inspiring Spirits, who still reply in Ambiguities, and cause the too credulous Nations to deceive themselves, by making wrong constructions of the Hellish Syllogisms; work not the strange effects they tell, but are in all things limited by hi● who made them, and whatever else was made, who of himself does all things, and in his Eternal Counsel foresaw what was, is, and is to come.  Q. S 
And is he then the highest, the Supremest Deity.  S. 
He is alone from all Eternity, besides him there is none, no God, but Jacob's God; the great Jehovah, the Almighty Fountain, when●● what ●ver is, has flowed, Heaven, Earth and Sea acknowledge his dread power; and all the Creation tremble at his Frown.  Q. S. 
How! Is his power so great, that senseless Creatures can be capable of understanding when he is Angry.  S. 
Yes, all the Glittering Host that dance round us, hear his Voice; the ruffling Winds are still when he commands, nor dare the Ocean rage, if he forbids its Fury; the ponderous Earth by him is sustained without a prop of aught but thin and fleeting Air; the glorious Lamp of day, when he commands, denies the world its Beams, nor dares it run its Course, but by his order; the fruitful Ground by him forbid, dares not produce her fruits, Nature runs backward when 'tis his command, and does her work preposterously.  Q. S. 
I start at what I hear, and am amazed— But say great King, in whom such Wisdom dwells a● to enable you to know this mighty God, and be acquainted with his will; are there not second Causes that produce strange visible effects.  S. 
'Tis true there are, but all of them have their original from the great Fountain of all power and Wisdom; who out of nothing, made what ever we behold, nay all the orders bright, of Angels, Arch-Angels, Cherubims and Seraphims, are the creation of his hands, or sprung from n●thing at his word.  Q. S. 
Leaving those glorious Spirits far above the reach of Mortal Eye; let us contemplate his wonders ●isible; say mighty Monarch by what secret extinct ebb and flow the briny waves? why shakes the Earth? say why the Bellowing Clouds dart flame? How dreadful Comets, on whose horrid hair hang pestilence and War, kindle; a●d by what matter fed; how is the days bright Eye eclipsed; and why does the Silver Moon in the midst of all her lustre lose her light at times? and wherefore keep those Luminaries their unerring course through the twelve signs of Heaven? say, say most sapient King, proceed these not from second causes.  S. 
Hard things you ask, yet give attention, and I will answer brief to all you have proposed.  Q. S. 
With joy I would hear these Mysteries unrevealed.  S. 
Then thus the great Workmaster in six days having created Heaven and Earth, Sea, Beasts, Birds, fish, Plant, Men, and every creeping thing that has the breath of Life; nay, all that we have ever heard of, or beheld; to show himself a God of order, he set bounds to all his Creatures that they move harmonious, and firm concord rest througout Creation's and in some cases suffers the superior Bodies, as made of matter more refined, and nearer participating with Celestial substance by their influence to dispore and move inferior qualities; as the pale Moon, predominant in wa●ry things, draws after her the Sympathising Ocean, making it to rise or fall as she ascends or descends in our Horrizon; or in that depressed, or as some take it under us; though the World itself centred, admits no under part; but every part is uppermost (that is) Men travel with their Heads towards Heaven; on the other side the Sun's hot beams and fiery influences of the Stars insusing heat into the Earth; and there it meeting with cold winds, and watery damps convented in the vacant corners; imbodying and mustering all its force; the contrary Elements strive with each other, and after long struggling with impetuous Fury, rend the trembling globe to vent themselves: again the fiery vapours flying upwards, and not being able to Break through the Region, armed with cold, in order to unite with what's above; they headlong plunge into some interposing Cloud, grown big with showers and shivering it into a thousand pieces, fill the hollow Concaves with prodigious Thunders: whilst the sallying fire dispersing, vanishes. As for those Shivering fires that are contracted as it were, to warm the world; to fly the wrath of angry Heaven, they are composed of unctuous oily matter, exhaled from Earth and Sea; and fired by vehement Agitation, or too near approaching the Aetherial fire, that circles in the Air, lasting no longer than the exhalation contracted; or ascending, feeds them, being mostly in or this side the flaming Region.  Q. S. 
Great and mysterious are the words you relate; but say are these the effects of second causes, is not Nature most predominate in these contingencies.  S. 
The God of Nature, as the great first mover, it is true, permits the course of things, but orders and disposes by his over ruling providence, as he sees fit; allotting them their times and seasons, nor is aught done without his high permission.  Q. S. 
Infini te have you satisfied me hitherto, yet let me beg you would proceed to what remains, that I may admire still more the donor of such wisdom.  S. 
As for the glorious Luminary, to whom, by the Creators own appointment, is assigned the rule of the Day, when it's all cheering Beams are screened in part from us, and thrown Ascance; behold the Moons dark Body (which is never filled with lustre, but borrowed light, all her Silver Beauty is but a bare reflex) interposing betwixt the prime Orb and us in the Ecliptic node; nor can the Sun Beams be fully on us, till that let's removed by the various motions of these Planets; the Moon in like manner wanting light, is often screened from from the Sun's bright Rays by Earth's ascending shade; which does at certain times, when the great Planet's cross, reach the concave of the lowest Orb, and rob her of her pale reflection, That the Sun, Moon, and other celestial Bodies continue a mystic dance; 'tis that their influence may pregnate Earth for Mankinds benefits. So that it is plain, the great, the wise Creator of the Universe, has subserviated those glorious Bodies to the Terrean sedentary Globe, which with far lesser labour might make its diurnal revolution, and as it were, on its soft Axels revolve with noiseless Motion.  Q. S. 
How strangely am I pleased at what I hear, and could dwell upon this theme for ever; admiring next to him that gave it; him that possesses so great a share of Wisdom. Thrice happy are all they that are under the Guidance of such a Monarch, and more happy they that are attendant on you, and have their delighted Ears still filled with knowledge.  S. 
Alas great Queen, these high applauses are not mine; I am but mortal Man, and subject still to humane frailties. If the eternal Fountain, whence not only Wisdom, but all other Graces flows; has endued his Servant with an understanding Heart; let all the Glory be ascribed to him, who has enabled me to satisfy you in all your curiosities.  Q. S. 
Than be it so, and henceforth shall the God of Jacob only be adored by her, who has with Fear and Rev●rence heard of his mighty wonders; nor shall ●here blaze an Altar in my Kingdom to any power beside; for he alone is God infinite, and incomprehensible.  S. 
Bravely resolved, and like a Queen, whose Wisdom has hitherto appeared above her Sex; and may that God, whom Israel adores, be ever propitious; granting you Wisdom, Honour, length of days, and crown you with a peaceful and happy Reign.  Q. S. 
All thanks be returned, and may what you have wished return an hundred fold on your head, the rest my presents soon shall speak.  S. 
See, see the glorious Lamp of day sits on his meridian Throne, and views at equal distance, the smiling East and West: 'Tis time great Queen, I wait on you to your repose.  Q. S. 
With joy i'll be conducted by the wise, the great, the glorious King of Israel.  

Conclusion.  
Highly pleased, great Sheba's Queen presents  
The King with Spices, Gold, and Ornaments;  
And then from him again she does receive  
Such Presents as became a King to give:  
When taking leave, and blessing Jacob's Seed,  
Well pleased, she to her country does proceed.    
Luke 16. v. 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. 
There was a certain rich man which was Clothed in Purple, and fine Linen, and fared sumptuously every day.  
And there was a certain beggar, named Lazarus, which was laid at his Gate full of sores,  
And desiring to be fed with the crumbs that fell from the rich Man's Table: moreover, the Dogs came and licked his Sores.  
And it came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by the Angels into Abraham's bosom: the rich man also died, and was buried.  
And in 〈…〉 in torments, and seeing Abraham 〈…〉 Lazarus in his bosom, etc.  
A Paraphrase on St. Luke, the 16th Chapter, from the 19 〈◊〉 the end. Being a real Scripture Dialogue between the most happy Lazarus and the tormented Dives.  

To the Reader.  
BEhold these Lines crave thy most solid view,  
Since by the Scriptures they are proved true,  
Dost thou want Riches? here without all measure  
Is a most blessed stock of lasting Treasure.  
This Heavenly Treasure will enrich thee more  
Than all the Jewels on the Indian shore,  
Receive it joyfully, and say no more.  
Poor men rejoice, while rich men howl and cry,  
Such is the pleasure of the Deity.  
Then cease thy tears, poor wretched soul, and lend  
An ear unto poor Lazarus thy Friend.   Lazarus. 
Most Noble sir, view but these sores I bear,  
And how each one doth like a Mouth appear;  
For some relief my wounds do loudly cry,  
And humbly beg your Christian Charity.  
〈◊〉 ay ve lain here day by day unable,  
ere to obtain the scraps fall from your Table;  
The very Dogs more kindness show than you,  
Who lick my my sores and heal my ulcers too:  
Alas great Sir I languish? nay I die,  
Only for want of timely Charity.  
Let me request your bounty, for I know,  
God will repay you double what I owe;  
For God's sake and your own, let me but have  
Some kind relief to shield me from the Grave,  
Scraps from your Table I do only crave.  Dives. 
Why how now Sirrah! how dare you presume  
To urge my patience with your begging tune?  
How dare you venture at my Gate to lie?  
Up and be gone, or else prepare to die.  
Talk you of Sores and Wounds, what's that to me?  
The Dogs indeed your fittest consorts be:  
My Table is not spread to grant relief,  
To every begging idle lazy Thief;  
Such as yourself may be for aught I know.  
Be gone you Idle rascal. Sirrah go,  
Or I'll release your idle cries and groans  
With a good Cudgel that shall break your bones.  
What if you languish, perish, rot, or die:  
Do so or hang yourself, pray what care I.  
You tell me God will double what I give,  
Yet will not I believe it, as I live.  
Go to him then yourself, if you are able,  
And tell me then who keeps the better Table:  
So get you gone you lazy idle Thief,  
I fear you there will find but small relief.  Lazarus. 
Farewell proud scornful Dust and Ashes, I  
Will henceforth only on my God rely;  
With winged speed I will approach thy Throne,  
And all my grief and misery make known.  
Lord thou art able to relieve my wants,  
●elieve my misery, and hear my plaints.  
●rom thee, my God, I do expect much more,  
●han ever I yet found at Dives door.  
however Gracious God, I now must try,  
●y strength decays, Great God, behold I die.  Angels. 
〈◊〉 blessed Lazarus! all Hail we say,  
●e're sent thy Soul to Heaven to convey.  
●est Abraham attends with open Arms,  
●ho will secure thee from all future harms.  
●uze then bright Saint, and Hallelujah sing,  
whilst we with expedition take the Wing.  
In order to transport thee to that place  
Of joy, where Tears shall ne'er bedew thy Face.  
Dives lifting up his eyes in Hell.  
Behold me Father Abraham, I lie  
Surrounded with eternal misery:  
Shall Lazarus a blessed place obtain,  
Whilst I all Hellish Torments do sustain.  
Have mercy on me, Father, pray now send  
Thrice happy Lazarus to dip the end  
Of one of his blessed fingers, and assuage  
My hell tormented Tongue, which fire makes rage:  
Some cooling Water for my Tongue, for I  
Must now in Hell's Eternal Torments fry.  Abraham. 
Remember Son, to add unto thy grief,  
When living, you allowed him no relief.  
You then possessed your good things, he his bad,  
You swum in mirth, whilst Lazarus was sad.  
But now the case is altered much, for he  
Shall ever joy, whilst you tormented be;  
Besides a Gulf between us two there lies,  
More deep than is the Earth beneath the Skies.  
And let me tell you, you will find it true,  
You cannot come to me, or I to you.  Dives. 
Dear Father, let me then this suit obtain  
Send him unto my Father's House again;  
Five Brethren there I have, O let him tell  
To them the torments I endure in Hell:  
And if they will not then their sins refrain,  
Let Lazarus return to thee again.  Abraham. 
Moses, the Prophets too must be their Guide,  
And pray what else should they desire beside.  Dives. 
Nay Father Abraham, but if one went  
Unto them from the Grave, they would repent.  Abraham. 
If Moses, and the Prophets will not do,  
They'll not believe a Messenger from you.  

But further, let me paraphrase on the Cha●ter as follows.  
Harken therefore now, and I will speak of a great rich man, that flourished here on Earth. (as a learned Divine observes) In all pomp and abundance, that shined in courtly purple Robes, that was clothed in Bissus and fine silk, and fared deliciously, that was lodged softly, that lived pleasantly. But understand what became of this rich man; his years being expired, and his days numbered, and his time determined, he was invited to the fatal Banquet of black ugly death, that maketh all men subject to the rigour of his Law, his body was honourably buried, in respect of his much wealth: but what became of his Soul? that was carried from his body to dwell with the devils, from his purple robes to burning flames, from his soft Silk and white Byssus to cruel pains in black Abissus, from his Palace here on Earth, to the Palace of Devils in Hell: from Paradise to a dungeon, from pleasures to p●ins▪ from joy to torment, and that by hellish means, dam●ed ●pirits, into the infernal Lake of bottomless Barathrum, where is woe, woe, woe!  
Harken also of a certain poor Beggar clothed in ●●gs, with miseries pained, pained with griefs, grieved ●ith sores, sorely tormented, unmercifully condemned ●ing at this rich Man's Gate, desiring to be refreshed 〈◊〉 with the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table▪ ●e dogs had more pity than this rich man, on this d●●essed creature, for they came to visit him, they came comfort him, they came and licked his sores, Well, his time being also determined, he went the 〈◊〉 of all flesh, and death was the finis●●r of all his miseries and griefs; Vita assumpsit mortem, ut mors vitam acciperet; he died once, to live for ever. And what became of his Soul? it was carried from his body to his Master, from a House of Clay, to a House not made with hands, from a Wilderness to a Paradise, from an earthly prison, to a heavenly palace, from the rich man's Gate, to the City of the great God, from pains to pleasures, from miseries to joys, from Adam's corruption, to Abraham's bosom. It was carried by Angels into the quires of Angels, to have his being and moving in the very moving Heavens with God himself. Where is life, food and abundance, and glory, and health, and ●eace, and eternity, and all good things: all abo●e all that either can be wished or desired: And this is the subject that I shall now speak of.  
What poor Lazarus! What! lying at a gate▪ and full of Sores too? Would not this rich Man afford thee some outhouse to lie in, to shroud thee from storms and tempests? no: would not his servants pity thee? no: would not his Childre● speak for thee? no: would not his Wife intre●● her Husband for thee? no: Hadst thou ever do●● them any wrong? no: But, Lazarus, it may be thou art stout, and oftentimes Beggars will 〈◊〉 choosers? thou perhaps wouldst have some gre●● Alms, or some Copyhold, some Farm of this ri●● Man? no: Or thou wouldst have some delic●● Meat? no: Many Dishes? no: Or thou would sit at the Table with his Sons and Servants? no 〈◊〉 What is it then that thou dost desire? Nothing but Crumbs to refresh my Soul, nothing 〈◊〉 Crumbs to save my Life: Nothing but Crum●● Crumbs, Crumbs that fall from the rich Man's 〈◊〉 I know that he fared plentifully, and that he 〈◊〉 well spare them.  
What shall I say of the hardness of this 〈◊〉 rich Man's Heart? Let me speak for Lazarus 〈◊〉 ●his rich Man; yet I shall but Asinam comere, ● one well observes) get nothing of this hard Fellow: I have a Message unto thee, O thou Rich Man, from the great God of Heaven, and he doth desire thee that thou respect the Beggar that lieth at thy Gate pained with Sores, pained with grief, and even starved through Hunger: And I beseech thee in God's stead, that thou have pity on this Beggar, as God shall have Pity, Mercy, and Compassion on thee, and look what thou layest out, it shall be paid thee again. But he answered, I warrant you he is some Runagate Rogue, and so long as he can be maintained by such easy means, he will never take any other Trade upon him: Nay, but good Sir let it please you only to behold this poor Creature; which suppose it were granted, and he coming to the Gate where this wretched object lay, seeing him bewrayed with Sores, betattered with Rags, and the Dogs licking him, stopping his Nose with a squeamish Face, and disdainful look, began to say unto him: I see thou art some lude Fellow, that such Miseries happen unto thee, and such Plagues come upon thee; it is not for thy Goodness or Righteousness, that these afflictions light on thee. But he replied, O good Master, some comfort, some Relief, some Crumbs to save my Life, I shall die else, and starve at ●our Gate; Good Master, I beseech you for God's sake, for Christ's sake, take some Pity, some Compassion, some Mercy on me. But he with an angry look disdaining Lazarus, said, Away hence thou Idle Rogue, not a penny, not a Morsel, not a Crumb of Bread; and so stopping his Nose from the scent, and his Ears from the cry of Lazarus, returned unto his stately Palace: And this poor man's Throat being dry with crying, his Heart fainting for want of Comfort, his Tongue cleaving to the roof of his Mouth, being worn out with Fast and Miseries, starved at the Rich man's Gate. Now must I speak for dead Lazarus against the Rich Man. Nam si hic tacuissent, nun lapides clamabunt; If I should hold my peace, the very stones would cry. O thou rich Miser, and more than Cruel wretch, Lazarus is dead, he is dead at thy Gate, and his Blood shall be upon thee, thou show'dst no Mercy unto him, no Mercy shall be showed to thee, thou stoppedst thy Ears unto his cry, thou shalt cry and not be heard. It is inhuman Wickedness to have no Compassion on distressed Lazarus, but most of all, to let him starve at thy Gate for want of Food: What did he desire of thee but only Crumbs to save his Life? Is it not a small thing, I pray thee, that thou having abundance of Meat, should see him starve for Bread? That thou flourishing in Purple and Silk, would see Lazarus, lie in Rags? That thou seeing eve● thy Dogs have pity on him, thou wouldst have no pity upon him thyself? What Eyes hadst thou that wouldst n●t see his Sores? What Ears hadst thou, that thou wouldst not hear his cry? What Hands hadst thou that would not be stretched ou● to give? What Heart hadst thou, that would not melt in thy Body? What Soul hadst thou, that would not pity his silly Soul, this wretched Body, poor Lazarus? If the stones could speak, they would cry 〈◊〉 upon thee: If thy Dogs could speak, they would condemn thee of unmercifulness: If dead Lazarus were here, his Sores would bleed afresh before thy face, and cry in thine Ears, that thou art guilty, guilty of his Blood, and that thy sin is more than can be pardoned.  
Why should not I tell thee the Portion that i● prepared for thee? This shall be thy Portion to drink: Let thy days be few, and another take thine Office: Let thy Children be Fatherless, and thy Wife ● Widow: Let thy Children be Vagabonds and beg their bread, let them seek it also out of desolate places, l●● the Extortioner consume all thou hast, and let the stranger spoil thy Labour: Let there be no man to pity thee, nor to have Compassion on thy Fatherless Children: Le● thy memorial be clean forgotten, and in the next Generation let thy Name be clean put out: Let him be 〈◊〉 accursed example to all the World: Let him be curse● in the City, and cursed in the field; let him be cursed when he goeth out, and when he cometh in; let him be cursed when he lieth down, and when he riseth up: Let all Creatures and the Creator himself forsake him, Angels reject him, Heavens frown at him, Earth open thy mouth, Hell receive him, Spirits tear him, Devils torment him, let no mercy be showed unto him that showed no mercy; Thus shall the miseries of Lazarus be revenged by the just plagues that shall justly fall upon the rich man's head.  
And now the rich man being in Hell Flames, methinks I hear him crying out, saying; O Wretch that I am, why did I suffer Lazarus to starve at my Gate? for which I am shut in the Gates of Hell. Why did I not give Lazarus a crumb of bread? for which I cannot have here one drop of water to cool my tongue. Why did I show Lazarus no mercy on Earth? for which no mercy is showed to me in Hell. What shall I do? for I am tormented in this flame, I will cry unto Abraham, Abraham have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the top of his finger in water to cool my tongue. I am tormented here: Abraham, I am plagued and continually pained here; Abraham, here my purple raiment in flaines of fire, my light is darkness, and my day night, my companions are Devils. O how they hale me! O how they pull me! O how they ●ex and torment me! Here my feet are scorched, my hands are seared, my heart is wounded, my eyes are blinded, my ears are dulled, my senses are confounded, my tongue is hot, it is very hot: send Lazarus therefore Abraham with a drop of water to comfort me; one drop, good Abraham, one drop of water.  
But Abraham answered him: Thou damned wretch, once thou didst disdain Lazarus, once thou didst refuse Lazarus, once thou didst scorn Lazarus, now Lazarus shall disdain, refuse, and scorn thee; once thou stoppest thine ears from the cry of Lazarus, now he stops his ears from thy cry: once thou turnest thy face from Lazarus now he turneth away his face from thee: once thou denyedst crumbs to Lazarus, now he denyeth water to thee, not a spoonful, not a drop of water.  
Oh Abraham, but now if I had my goods, I would give Lazarus all for a drop of water: Now if I had a million of gold, I would give it all for a drop of water, now if I had a world of wealth, I would give it all to Lazarus: therefore good Abraham, one drop; But he answered, No, not a drop.  
Not a drop; then cursed be the day wherein I was born, and cursed be the night wherein I was conceived; cursed be my Father that begot me; and cursed be my Mother that bore me; cursed be the place that kept me; cursed be the delicate Robes that clothed me, cursed be the delicate meat that fed me: let me be most accursed of all creatures both in Heaven and Earth.  

Oh! cursed, cursed, most accursed Soul,  
Where am I now? what Fiends are those that howl▪  
They seize upon me, they torment me sore,  
I Shriek with anguish, they in fury roar.   

In Earth's deep centre; dark and dreadful Cell,  
Where only angry damned Spirits dwell  
In grossest darkness, yet my sight so clear,  
M●●t hideous Visions to the same appear.   

In Hell, indeed, where I endure that curse  
Which shall not cease, but be hereafter worse  
In fire infernal; out of measure h●t,  
Which ever burns, and yet consumeth not.   

I rave, I curse, and I accuse my fate,  
As if such torments were unjust, too great;  
But Conscience nips me with, not so; I try  
To kill that worm, but oh! it will not die.   

Most wretched I, besides the Woes I have,  
Methinks I hear my bones within my Gra●e▪  
(As troubled with some fatal Trumpets s●und)  
Begin to shake and shiver in the ground.   

Alas, alas, what shall of me become  
When wretched, go ye cursed is my doom.  
How shall my Soul and Body both affrighted,  
Then curse the hour they were again united.   

How shall the Devils then with fury driven  
Seize me for Hell, when sentenced out of Heaven;  
And on me with much insultation rage,  
As if my torments might their own assuage.   

Then with the hideous howling heard of Hell,  
I shall he thrown to that dreadful Cell,  
Where we in Flames that never fail shall burn;  
From whence we never, never shall return.     

A fancied Dialogue between Dives and Lazarus.  
The Argument.  
Dives contemns poor Lazarus' wretched state,  
Who humbly sues for crumbles at his gate,  
Deriding his advice, till in the close,  
One mounts to Heaven, the other to Hell goes.  Di. 
HOw kind has Fortune been to me? how am I made her Favourite, whilst with a lavish hand she heaps the world's chief treasure on me; which makes me be admired, and sought unto by all; the golden Goddesses charms them at the rate, that still they watch my looks, and when ● smile are overjoyed,— But who is this that cries thus at my Gate,— Ha, a miserable wrech, an outcast of Fortune, whose miseries have made him loathsome, and contemptible an object, that offends mine eyes.  La. 
O why turn you from me, mighty Sir, consider that I am your fellow creature, made of the same mould, inspired by the same Breath of Life, and retain in me the self same faculties.  Di. 
Ha, ha, ha, canst thou boast thus, nay make these comparisons, and but the mere shadow of a man, a skeleton, whom famine with her pressing hand has gripped, and turned into a thing detestable to behold.  La. 
Despise me not, great Sir, nor slight me for my miseries, 'tis in his power, whom I adore, to raise me to the heights of Honour, and depress your towering greatness.  Di. 
No, no, that ne'er can be, my Chests are ●rammed too full of Gold, the precious Idol of mankind.  La. 
Yet cannot your Riches in the least avail you, if he please to stretch out his hand against you; nay granting you continue as you are, admired and courted by the crowding vulgar; yet the wretched, the poor despicable thing thou seest is far happpier.  Di. 
How— happier— why now you make me smile, sure you but jest, sor one more miserable ● never yet could fix my eyes on.  Laz. 
It is not Riches, Pomp, nor high applause that makes men happy, but a mind armed with content 〈◊〉 bear him through all sad misfortunes, and a faith 〈◊〉 firm affiance in the Donor of all things that we can 〈◊〉 or in the world to come possess. O true content is an 〈◊〉 estimable treasure.  Di. 
Content is an Eternal treasure; why, 〈…〉 more create contentment, than to have 〈◊〉 World at will? be waited on by crowds, and feed upon what ever Sea, Earth, or Air affords.  La. 
Yet this, without a conscience void of guilt, can yield you no felicity, a good Conscience is a continual feast.  Di. 
Conscience, why I never knew what Conscience balls, nor know I whether I have any; for when first she checked me for laying my foundation upon Widows and sad Orphan's tears, I shook hands with her● and bid her trouble me no more, nor since that ●●me has she much molested me, or when she does, Music and charming Beauties shall divert my cares, and hush her into silence.  La. 
Although at present she is still, yet there will come a day when she will cry as l●ud as thunder, and proclaim the wrong you hav● done her ●efore the judge of all the Earth●punc; from who●e dread Presence none can fly.  Di. 
Mere febles are they that you tell, think you to scare me from my Joys with telling me what I will never believe; why, when I die, I am no more, nor ●an aught trouble me, why should I not enjoy my se●● then whilst I live?  La. 
Yes, 〈◊〉 deluded, that after the o'th' you must appear before 〈◊〉 dread tremendous Majesty of Heaven, and answer for the smallest sin committed; know there is an everlasting Lake of burning Sulphur▪ for all those that trust in vanity, and joys unspeakable for such as tread the paths of ●prightness,  Di. 
Pish, tell me no more of such vain dreams, the mere imagination of such as pretend Religion for a Trade, things all together unworthy of my great thoughts, nor will I stay to hear, but retire, and glu● myself with pleasure.  La. 
Go and be fatted, for you shall laugh now you● fill, that you may mourn hereafter.  

Conclusion.  
The rich Man not believes, but slights till death  
Seizes him, and rob him of his breath.  
The poor Man likewise dies, but now their state  
Is different far, one Angel does translate  
To Abraham's happy bosom, whilst the fiends  
Snatch th' other where fierce Torments never ends.  
In vain is then his cry, no mercy is found,  
He must endure, whilst tother's with joy crownd·    
Luke 15.17, 18, 19, 20, 21. 
And when he came to himself, he said, how many hired Servants of my Fathers have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger.  
I will arise and go to my Father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and before thee.  
And am no more worthy bo be called thy Son, make me as one of thy hired Servants.  
And he arose and came to his Father; but when he was yet a great way off, his Father saw him, and had compassion on him, and ran and fell on his neck and kissed him.  
And the Son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy Son.  
Take the Paraphrase upon the whole, as followeth, Viz.  A certain Man had two Sons, one whereof, and he the Eldest, continued always in his Family, content with his provision, subject to his Governor meant, and in diligent Obedience to all his Commands. But the other, viz. the Younger Brother, full of Juvinal heat and confidence, and 〈◊〉 the Age of Discretion, grows impatient of Restraint and desirous of Liberty, especially fancying that he could live better to his own content, and every whit as well provide for himself; if he were at his own disposal: Therefore he desires his Father to set him out his share, and to put his Portion into his own hands, and leave him to his own conduct. The Father gratifies him in all his desires, gives him his Portion and his Liberty; which done, the Son, as if his Father's presence or vicinage would put too great a restraint upon him, and give check to his freedom, he betakes himself to another Country; where being in the height of Jollity amongst his Harlots and lewd Companions methinks I hear him speak to his own Heart after this manner following, viz. 

O! sweet, what rare felicity is here,  
Where nought offends, where all things fit appear;  
Where Nature's shop full furnished with supply,  
Stands always open to the Passers by.   

My thoughts, what think you of these Streams so clear?  
My Senses, can you not suck Honey here?  
Affections, can you here not feed desire  
And with contentment to the Heart retire?   

Here are the Beds where sweetest Roses grow,  
Here are the Banks where purest Streams do flow,  
Here are the only Instruments of Mir●h,  
Here are the only jewels upon Earth.   

My straggling thoughts then here set up your stay▪  
My striving Senses seek no richer prey;  
Affections, here your Fancies may be quieted,  
My pleased Heart then rest thou here delighted.   
But to proceed: This Prodigal being now out of his Father's Eye; Reach and Control▪ he indulges himself in the highest surfeit of Licentiousness, by which means in a short time (whilst he enjoys the present, took no care for the future) the the stock his Father allotted him, was utterly exhausted; and with that his pleasures also fail; the Roots that ministered to them being thus dried up; and where his pleasure's end, his cares begin: For now he hath leisure to look about him, and finds himself in a bad case, having no course left, but either to reurn to his Father, and confessing his Folly, and imploring his compassion; or to put himself a Servant to a Stranger; thereby to get a mean livelihood; the former of these he was yet loath to come to; having not as he thought tried sufficiently the folly of his own counsel, and to take to himself the shame of his own ill conduct, by so plain a retreat, was thought a sharper calamity than any he yet felt; therefore he resolved upon the latter; as if the severities of a stranger were more tolerable than the reproaches of a Father: For he concluded a Man was not perfectly miserable that had no body to upbraid his Folly. And now being in a strange Country, he comforted himself with this; that if he should find none to pity him, he was sure there would be none could torture him with the g rating remembrance of what he was and might have been. Well, he becomes a Servant, and he that could not brook the grave restraint of paternal Authority, now feels the yoke of servile obedience; for he is put to the base drudgery of feeding Swine, and hath the coursest fair for his maintenance: the Swine and he feed alike upon Husks, only with this difference some body cares for the Hogs, but nobody for the Slave; and the former have enough of that which agrees with them, but the latter is pinched with hunger, having not allowance of that sordid diet answerable to the importunity of his needs. B●●ng sorely afflicted with this, he that formerly dreamt of nothing but sweets of liberty, and the surfeits of voluptuousness, and never once thought of those hungry Wolves, Want and Necessity, which now stand at his door, after many a sad sigh, discourses thus with himself:  
Ah fool that I was, who knew not when I was well, that understood not contentment without satisfaction, nor could take up with the substance, but must grasp at shadows till I lost both; that knew not what it was to be happy, but by the sad experiment of becoming miserable, that could not distinguish between the chastisements of a Father, and the wounds of an Enemy, nor believe but all yokes were equal, until I was convinced by trial, that could not brook the Government and restraints of my Father's Family, though endeared by the reverence of my relation, and sweetened by the benignity of his countenance, and liberal provision for necessity and delight; nor be satisfied of my Father's wisdom, but by the effects of my own rashness and folly. Time was when I had the respect and dignity of a Son at home, wha now find the contempt of a Servant abroad. I was then put to no drudgery, nor had other task than to serve the honour and interest of my Father, and in so doing I consulted also my own; for my duty and my happiness were then united, but I am now put to the basest office, to the vilest employment, as if my drudgery were not so much imposed in order to my Master's profit, as to my own contumely. But that which comes nearer to me yet, and pinches me very sore, is that wherea● in my Father's House I could neieher feel nor fear want, I can now hope for nothing else, there the meanest servant had bread, not only to the full, bu● to superfluity; much less was any thing wanting to me then a Son; now the case is sadly altered, I that seldom had so much hunger as might serve for sauce to the plenty of my Father's Table, feel now the difference between the liberal hand of a Father, and the evil and niggardly eye of a hard master. Oh the sweet fumes of Plenty, and the gnawing pains of Wind and Emptiness!  
And here methinks I hear him speaking to Extravigant and headstrong Youth in the following manner, viz.  

Ah! wanton Youth take warning by my woes,  
And see in me the sum of vain repose;  
Which like a Bud Frost-bitten ere it blooms  
Appears, but unto no perfection comes.   

All Earth●● Pleasures are but like a bubble,  
Strait turn to nothing, which were raised with trouble.  
The fairest Faces soon change their dye,  
The sweetest Charmers are most apt to lie.   

Thus moved with sorrows I may tell the same,  
And make the world take notice of my shame;  
But till I had experience of this woe,  
No means could make me think it would be so.   

But now I think upon my Father here,  
Whose Foresight now I find exceeding clear;  
He often told me, and with many a Tear,  
What would befall, but then I would not hear.   
Ah fellow companions! what would I give now for what I have formerly wasted or despised! the● I loathed wholesome food, and now feed upon husks; how do I now envy the meanest Servant in my Father's house: they have enough of all things, and I the want of all things; they surfeit, I starve. But alas, it is to no purpose to complain here, the Swine I feed cannot pity me, and the Master I serve will not: There is no other choice left me now, but I must return to my Father or perish; little did I think what would come of it when I forsook him, and perhaps little does he think what I have suffered since: If my sufferings have brought down my proud heart and taught me submission, it may be, my deplorable condition may move his Bowels; it is true, he cast me not out, but I forsook and abandoned him: My Youthful heat and folly precipitated me upon my own Ruin, but as he hath more Wisdom than I, so perhaps the affections of a Father are more strong than those of a Child; and the more he sees my Foolishness, the more arguments he would find to show me Mercy; at least, I will make trial of his Clemency, I will humbly prostrate myself before him, I le embrace those knees that educated me, I'll lick the dust of that Threshold which I contemptuously forsaken, I'll own my fault, and take shame to myself, and so both magnify his Mercy if he receive me, and justify his proceedings if he reject me.  
I know my Father is subject or obnoxious to no body, who shall blame him for pardoning, or set limets to his mercy? nay, who can tell the measure of a Father's Bowels? it may be too there is irresistible Eloquence in misery; and the spectacle of a Sons adversity may have Rhetoric enough in it to carry a cause where the Father is Judge: Or if he, provoked by my Folly at first, and Extravagances since, will no more own me as a Son, perhaps he may receive me as a Servant; for if my rebellion ●ath extinguished in him the peculiar affections of a Father, yet it hath not destroyed the common Passions of Humanity, Mercy, and Pity; if he will receive me in that lower quality, I am now broken to the condition of a Servant, and shall think his Yoke easy hereafter, having been innured to so sharp and heavy an one; I will cheerfully submit my Ear to be boared to his Door-post, and be his Servant for ever.  
Or, Lastly, if he will not trust a Runagate, nor believe he will ever prove a constant Servant that hath once deserted his station, let him be pleased to take me as a hired Servant, whom he may turn off at pleasure; make trial of me, and admit me only upon good behaviour. But if all fail, and he should utterly cast me off (which yet I hope he will not) I can but perish, and that I do however.  
Well, this being resolved, he casts a longing look towards his Father's House, and puts himself on his way thither: but no sooner was he on his way, (though yet a great way off) but his Father spies him. Those lean and wan Cheeks, and the hollow funken Eyes his extremity had reduced him to, had not so disfigured him, nor those rags unable to cover his Nakedness, so disguised him, but his Father knew him; and the memory of his former disobedience had not so canceled the interest of a Son, or shut up the Bowels of a Father, but that the sight of his present misery kindled his Compassion. And whilst the Son, partly through that weakness which his Vices and his Sufferings had conspired to bring upon him, and partly through a Combination of shame and just fear of his Father's indignation, with difficulty makes towards him; the Father, prompted by Paternal affection, and transported between joy and Pity, runs to meet him, falls on his Neck, and kisses him.  
And now see what entertainment his Father gives him being come into his presence. He calls for a Robe; yea, the best Robe, and so clothes him; for a Ring to adorn and beautify him; for Shoes for his Feet, that stones might not annoy or hurt them; for the fat Calf to feed and refresh him; and whatsoever is wanting he bestows upo● him. Now, had the Father fit time, and his Sons sins deserved it, that he should rip up unto him his former Faults, and call to remembrance the offences of his Youth, and welcome him home after this manner: Ah, Sirrah, are you now come, is all spent amongst your Whores and Harlots? Return unto them, let them provide for you, come you no more within my doors. But behold the love of this his Father, he useth no such thundering speeches, he threateneth not to cast him off, nor yet doth he cast him in the teeth with the former Courses; he Remembreth not old reckonings, the Offences of his Youth are not spoken of: But he (seeing this his Riotous and unthrifty Son return home with an humble Heart) presently offers himself to his Child, and before he had made an end of his Confession, or could beg a supply of things needful, his Father intercepts him by his hasty calling to his Servants, Bring hither the best Robe, the Shoes, the Ring, let the fat Calf be killed, make a Feast, send for Music, let all be forgotten that is past; let my Son● old Courses no more be remembered.  
And here further we may Fancy the joyful father thus bespeaking his returning Child, viz.  

Welcome my Son, thrice welcome, is't not meet  
Thou shouldst be welcomed by Embraces sweet?  
Thou who wert lost, and now art found again;  
Thou who wert dead, dost now alive remain,   

Long have I longed for this thy safe return,  
Whereat my Bowels of compassion yern:  
Why shak'st thou then, why blushest being poor?  
Thy fear is past, thou shalt have Rags no more.   

Revive, my Son, be cheerful then, my Child,  
And cease thy sorrows, I am reconciled:  
Oh! let those Tears be taken from thine Eyes,  
They stir the Fountain where Compassion lies.   

Come▪ taste my dainties, I have choicest Fare,  
And sweetest music to delight the Ear:  
This is my Pleasure, I will have it done  
Inspite of Envy, for thou art my SON.   
The Son, though astonished at this condescension, and surprised with the unexpected benignity of such a Reception, yet could not but remember what his Father's Joy made him forget; namely, his former Dis-ingenuity and Rebellion: and therefore humbly falls on his knees again, and with shame and remorse makes his contrite acknowledgement after this manner. Father, (for so this admirable goodness of yours gives me encouragement to call you, more than the Blood and Life which I derived from you) I have, I confess, forfeited all the interest the privileges of my Birth might have afforded me in your Affection, having become Rebel both towards God and you, had I not first neglected him, I am sure I had never grieved you; and having forsaken you, I have not only violated the greatest Obligation I had upon me (save that to his divine Majesty) but also despised and affronted a goodness like to his; whatsoever therefore I have suffered was but the just demerit of my folly and contumacy, and whatsoever Sentence you shall pass upon me further, I will willingly submit to and here expect my doom from you: I condemn myself, as no more worthy to be called your Son, be pleased to admit me but into the condition of your meanest Servant, and I have more than my miscarriages give me reason to hope for.  
Whilst the Son was going on at this rate, the Father's Bowels yearned too earnestly to admit of long Apologies, and therefore chooses rather to interrupt him in his Discourse, than to adjourn his own Joys or the others comfort: and because he thought not sufficient in this case, he makes his deeds the Interpreters of his mind, commanding his Servants forthwithto bring out the best Robe, and put it upon his Son, together with a Ring on his hand, and Shoes on his feet, i. e. in all points to habit him as his Son, and as a Son of such a Father; by all which he maketh the full demonstration of a perfect Reconciliation; and not content herewith, to give vent to his Joy, that it might not overpower him whilst he confined it to his own bosom, and perhaps those also who had shared with him in his sorrows for the loss of a beloved Son, might participate also in the joy of his Recovery; he goes on, bring out also the fatted Calf, and kill it, and let us eat and be merry; for this my Son was dead, and is alive again, was lost and is found; and they began to be merry.  
In the midst of this extraordinary Jollity, it happens the elder Son, who had always continued in his Duty towards his Father, comes out of the Fields, where he had been Negotiating his Father's Affairs, and wonders at this the unusual jubilee: And when (demanding the occasion) they of the Family made him acquainted with the whole matter, he takes it ill, and interpreting this marvellous transport of joy at his Brother's return, to be in derogation from himself; as if his Father was too easy and inclinable towards him, but severe to himself, and unmindful of the long and faithful service he had done him, begins to expostulate the matter somewhat warmly with his Father; but the good Old Man mildly replies: Son, I am very sensible of, and set a just value upon the long course of your Obedience, and I have it both in my Power and in my will to reward you. 'Tis true, I have not hitherto made such solemn expressions of my Love to you, as I have now done upon this Occasion, for the case did not require it; you, as you have been always dutiful to me, so you had my House and all I have constantly to accommodate you; as you have never rebelled against me, so you have never felt the hardships your poorBrother has undergone by his foolishness; and as you that have never offended me, never could distrust my Favour, nor need not such demonstrations of my Reconciliation, which this former Gild and Extravagancies of your now penitent Brother renders necessary in his case, so also was I never overwhelmed withGrief for you who were never lost; but for as much as we have beyond ●ll expectation received your brother again, whom we long ●inc● despaired of, and had given up for lost; you canno● 〈◊〉 and you must allow me this unusual transport; ●or ● say again, This your Brother was lost, and is found, was dea●, and is alive again.   

An Imagined Discourse between the Prodigal Son and his Father.  
The Argument.  
The Son returned, relates the wretched state  
He underwent; when absent does create  
A tenderness in his aged Sire, whose Love  
On his repentance ne'er the less does prove.  Son. 
Alas dear Sir, my disobedience has been so great, that without shame, I dare not lift my Eyes to look upon your aged Face, without confusion, and disordered countenance; I cannot hear you speak thus kindly to the man that is unworthy to be called your Son, but merits more the name of slave.  Fa. 
Come to my Arms, my dear dear Child, I cannot see you stand thus cringing, nor can I permit you this range distance.  Son. 
The more your kind indulgence shows itself, the greater are my wretched Crimes, to leave so good a Father, leaving him in tears for my departure, nay to spend the substance he had gotten on the lewd profane debauches of the flattering world, whilst he was sighing for absence.  Fa. 
O! Name not what is past, but let your future care prevent the like revolt, the like extravigance.  Son. 
I dare not think I am forgiven; I am sure I could not well expect forgiveness from the man I had so much offended.  Fa. 
All, all's forgiven, whilst I sign this pardon with this kiss, this kind embrace, nay with my aged tears that spring from streams of joy.  Son. 
Thus low I bend to meet your blessing, and will henceforth be circumspect and cautious how I move, lest I again, though unwittingly, offend such innate goodness, such a tender Father.  Fa. 
Arise my Son, and may ten thousand blessings and happinesses more than your aged Sire can wish, fall all you: but tell my Son, tell of the strange adventures that befell your absence.  Son. 
My Father shall be obeyed— Then know great Sir, that when I left your Mansion in my pompous Gaityes, I soon betook myself to places of resort, and found the joval crew that courted me to recreate my Fancy with delights made up of Pleasure; Riotting and Music was our recreation for the most, though sometimes we dwelled upon a Harlot's smile, and spent at other times the flying hours in gaming, or beholding some vain Pagentary, till in the end my stock being gone, I soon had lost my gay Companions, who studied then to shun me more, than they had done to court my Favour: when ashamed to return home, I wandered as a man forlorn and friendless over many a dewy Plain, and through a thousand devious Paths; till in the end I met a humane shape, though dreadful to behold, who seemed to take compassion on me, and used many subtle arguments to bring to his lure, till in the end I was content to yield to his desire, Imagining what he pretended was real and substantial; but having got me in his power, he shackled me with Chains; and loaden with strong fetters sent me out to feed his swine, yet scarce would suffer me to feed upon the Husk●; nor was Famine all, for still my Stripes were as grievous as my wants; which lamentable case made me begin to cast about and think from what a happiness I fell; bewailing sore my rashness, till in the end, inspired or prompted by some good Angel, I resolved to leave my Hellish Tyrant, and throw myself at the Feet of you my Father, and to try, if peradventure I might move you to compassionate your wretched Son.  F. 
In a blessed hour were your resolves, and more happy was the moment when I again received my much beloved Son, for whose return loud Instruments of Music shall proclaim, and feasting for his sake last many a day; then let us in and order it.  Son. 
A thousand thanks your now obedient Son (if I dare own that name) returns, resolving for the Future to devote my chief endeavours to deserve such favour.   
Matth. 25. Vers. 34. & 41, 
Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the Foundation of the world.  
Then shall he say also unto them on the left Hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil and his Angels.  
I Will begin here and speak something of this sentence to the ungodly, wherein every word speaks woe and wrath, fire and fury, death and damnation; and every syllable speaks the deepest Sorrow and dreadfulest Sufferings to wicked Pilgrims. The Lord Chief justice of the whole World, the Judge of the Quick and Dead is now (as it were) in all his Robes and Royalty, with millions of glorious Attendants, in the G lory of his Father, with all his holy Angels, set on the Bench. The poor prisoner, whose trembling Soul is newly reunited to the loathsome Carcase of his Body, is dragged to the Bar awaiting and expecting some doleful Doom. He is lately come from hell, to give an account of his Life on earth, and to receive his Sentence; and loath he is to go back to that place of torments, as knowing that the pain of his Body will be a new and grievous addition to his misery, when that shall burn in flames as his soul doth already in fury. Therefore he pleads.  Prisoner. 
Lord let me stay her● (though poor wretch he hath his Hell about him in his accusing, affrighting Conscience) rather than go to that Dungeon of darkness. A sight of thy beautiful Face may possibly abate my Sorrows, and thy Presence may mitigate my Sufferings.  judge. 
No, saith Christ, here is no abiding for thee, be gone hence. Thou mayst remember when my Presence was thy Torment, when thou didst bid me depart from thee, choosing my room before my company. Now my Absence shall be thy Terror, I like thee not so well to have thee 〈◊〉 me. Depart, I say, from me.  prisoner. 
Lord, If I must undergo so dreadful a doom, as to depart from thee, the Father of Lights, and Fountain of Life, yet bless me before I go; One good wish of thy Heart, one good word of thy Mouth will make me blessed where ever I go. Those whom thou blessest, are blessed indeed; Bless me, even me, O my Father: At this parting grant me thy blessing.  ●●dge. 
Sinner, be gone, and my Curse go along with thee. Thou hast many a time despised my Bl●ssing when it hath been offered to thee, though I was made a Curse to purchase it for thee; therefore, I say, depart from me, and the Curse of an angry Lord, and of a righteous Law accompany th●e for ever. Depart, I say, Thou cursed.  Prisoner. 
Lord, if I must go, and thy Curse with me, send me to some good place, where I may find somewhat to refresh me under thy loss and curse. It's misery enough to lose thy presence, Good Lord command me to some good place.  judge. 
No, Sinner, be gone with my Curse to that place which will torture and rack thee with extremity and universality of pains. The time hath been that thou hast wallowed in sensual pleasures, now thou must fry in intolerable flames. Depart thou cursed into fire.  Prisoner. 
Ah Lord, if I must go with thy Curse, and to so woeful a place as fire, I beseech thee let me not stay there long. Alas, who can abide devouring flames one moment? material fires of man's kindling are terrible, but how intolerable are those flames which thy breath, like a stream of brimstone, hath kindled! I beseech thee, if I must go to it, let me pass swiftly through it, and not stay in it.  judge. 
No, Sinner, depart, and my Curse with thee, to those extreme Torments that admit of no ease and no end, where the worm never dieth, and the fire never goeth out? to the Lake that burneth with fire and brimstone for ever. Depart thou cursed into everlasting fire.  Prisoner. 
Lord, this is dismal and dreadful indeed to go from thee, who art all good, and to go to fire which hath in it extremity of all evil, and to lose thee, and fry in flames for ever, ever, ever; yet, Lord, if it is thy Will it should be so, hear me yet in one desire let me have such society as may mitigate, at le●●● such as may not aggravate my misery.  judge. 
No, Sinner, thy Company must be such 〈◊〉 ev●r as thou didst choose in thy life time. 〈◊〉 who was thy Tempter shall be thy Tormentor. And they who led thee captive at their will, shall be bound with thee in chains of everlasting darkness, and faggoted up with thee together for unquenchable fire. Such fiery Serpents, gnawing Worms, stinging Adders, poisonous Toads, roaring and devouring Lions, hideous Monsters, frightful Fiends must be thy eternal Companions. Depart from me thou cursed, into everlasting fire prepared for the Devil and his Angels.  
But now, kind Readers, because particulars do ●sually most affect us, we may here again at this General judgement, suppose we here the judge crying out with a loud and angry voice, saying, Bring now ●ll the wicked Prisoners severally to my Bar, that so ●hey may all distinctly receive their Sentence, ●or those particular sins by which they have most offended my Justice;  
And first, Come forth all ye ignorant persons: who ●ave not known the Father, nor me, nor the miseries of salvation. Take them Devils, bind ●hem hand and foot.  
2. Come forth all ye slothful and unprofitable persons. ●ad not ye talents committed to you for my use and ●●rvice, and what have you done with them? did ●ou bury them in the earth? or lay them up in a ●apkin? what, could you lie down and slumber, ●hen you had so much work to do? could you tri●●e ●ray so many hours, when time was so precious ●●d sweet? Take them Devils, bind them ●and and foot.  
3. Come forth all ye that have neglected Family 〈◊〉, and never sought after God in your Closets; Were 〈◊〉 you creatures, and did the law of Creation re●ire no worship; were not you subjects, and should 〈◊〉 you have shown homage to your Sovereign▪ 〈◊〉 not you live upon God's finding and bounty every day, and should not you have ackowledged your dependence; did not God bring you into your Family Relations, and did he require no duty? Did not he threaten to pour out his wrath upon irreligious Families? and yet would not you set up Religion in yours? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
4. Come forth all ye Sabbath-breakers, you that have spent the day in sleeping, in eating and drinking to excess; who instead of holy meditations, have been thinking and contriving your worldly business; who instead of religious conferences, have discoursed only of earthly matters: instead of going to Church to worship God, have walked into the Fields, and spent the time in Recreations. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
5. Come forth all ye Swearers, and Profaner of the Name of God; did you never read or hear of the third Commandment, which forbade this sin? Did you never hear of my strict Injunction, that you should not swear at all in your discourses, but that your Communication should be yea and nay? were you never told that swearers would fall into Condemnation? was the great and dreadful name of God of so little regard, that you could not only use it irreverently, so frequently; but also even tear it in piec●● by your Oaths? You called upon God sometimes to damn and sink you; can you speak in that language now, now damnation is so near you? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
6. Come forth all ye scoffers at Religion, and the zealous professors thereof; who taught and spoke of Religion, as if it had been a fancy, and cunningly delised Fables; and of the most holy, humble, and 〈◊〉- denying Christians, as if they were the mos● mean spirited, foolish, and contemptible People upon Earth: and have used the name of a Saint in derision, and proverb of reproach. Have you the same mind now, that Religion was but a fancy? Is your Resurrection and my appearance, but a fancy? Is your punishment eternal in hell, like to be but a fancy? Have you not a sure ground and bottom for your faith in the Scriptures? Could you have desired more reasonable evidence of things done before your age? Could you laugh at Scripture threatenings: And can you laugh now you are come to▪ Execution? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
7. Come forth all ye Persecutors of my Disciples; was it not enough for you to mock them; but you must persecute them too? Was it not enough for you to persecute them with the tongue, but you must persecute them with the hand? What, could you betray them like judas for a piece of money, or out of malice, which was worse? Could you disturb them in their service and worship of me, when they were praying for your very Conversion and Salvation? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
8. Come forth all ye intemperate and licentious persons; who have indulged your flesh, and laid no restraint upon your sensual appetite; who have made provision for your fl●sh, to fulfil the lusts thereof; but made no prov●●ion for my glory, and took no care to fulfil● my commands; did you never hear of s●ch a duty as self-denial, which I required of all my Disciples and Followers? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
9 Come forth all ye Gluttons, who have prepared you flesh with delicious food, but never had the least rega●d to feed your souls. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
10. Come forth all ye Drunkards, who if ye have not overcharged your bellies with excessive eating, ●et have often intoxicated your brains with the fume; of excessive drinking; what excuse can you find for this sin? were you enticed to it, and overtaken before you were aware? but who could entice you to drink a potion which would kill your bodies? and was not the death and damnation of your souls more to be avoided? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
11. Come forth all ye Adulterers, you that have neighed like full-fed Horses after your neighbour's Wives, and assembled by troops into Harlot's houses; or if not so, have committed this sin in secret corners; was there no shame in you to keep you from this nasty filthy sin? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
12. Come forth all ye Covetous persons, whose treasure▪ and heart, hope, and confidence hath been in earthly things. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
13. Come forth all ye unmerciful persons; whose bowels have been shut up against the poor and ●eedy; who have spoken churlishly to the poor, and looked upon them afar off. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
14. Come forth all ye unrighteous persons; who have wronged Widows and Orphans; who have overreached your neighbours in your dealings; who have heaped an estate together by unrighteous practices; who have squeezed and oppressed the poor▪ which have had no helper. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
15. Come forth all ye liars; you who have taught and accustomed yourselves to this sin; who have not only reported lies, but also made them. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
16▪ Come forth all ye Slanderers and Backbiters▪ who have walked about with slanders; and carried about tales unto the reproach and injury of your neighbours good name: Did you not know it was your duty to endeavour the preservation of your Neighbour's Reputation as carefully as your own? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
17. Come forth all ye proud and ambitious persons; you that have builded your nests on high; that have taken many dirty steps to get into the seat of honour, whose hearts have been lifted up with high towering imaginations and conceits of your own excellencies unto the scorning and contempt of others; who have had proud hearts, and proud looks, and proud speeches, and proud carriage towards others Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
18. Come forth ally envious and malicious persons; ye that have grieved at the good of others, which they have had, or done; that have grieved at the good Estates of others, or because they have thrived faster than you in the world. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
19 Come forth all ye wrathful and contentious persons▪ ye that have had fiery spirits, and fiery tongues; whose tongue, have been like swords, wherewith▪ ye ha●e lashed and wounded others in your reproachful reviling speeches. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
20. Come forth all ye civil and moral persons, who have had moral righteousness, and been upright in your dealings, but wholly strangers unto the power of godliness, who have observed some precepts of the second Table of the Law in reference to yourselves and others externally; but have grossly neglected the duties of the first Table. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
21. Come all ye Hypocrites, who have made a show of Holiness; and have born the name of Zealous professors of Religion, but have been acted by carnal designs and principles, who have used Religion as a Cloak for your Covetousness, who followed me only for the Loaves; who have been hollow at the heart, rotten at the Core, painted-Sepulchers, blazing· Comets, wand'ring and falling Stars, for whom the mist of darkness is reserved for ever. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
22. Come forth all ye Backsliders and Apostates, from me and my ways; You that turned back to ways of profaneness, and open wickedness, after some time of profession, and joining yourselves with my People, was my service so burdensome that you could endure it no longer? was the way to heaven so unpleasant, that you would walk no longer therein, after some trial in show of me, did you prefer and make choice of the Devil before me? Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.  
23. Come forth all ye impenitent Persons and unbelievers, all ye that▪ have not yielded obedience to the Gospel; were you not called to repentance by Ministers, and the Spirit in Ordinances? and when a stiller voice was not heard, were you not called louder by God in his judgements? did you not know, that except you repented you would certainly perish. Take them Devils, bind them hand and foot.   

Zacharias and Elizabeth. An imaginary discourse.  
The Argument.  
The way preparing Prophet born, his Birth  
O'rejoys his Parents, who with holy mirth  
Return their thanks to Heavens eternal King,  
The Maker, Giver, Author of each thing.  Z. 
WHat Wonders has God wrought? how gracious has he been, in opening thy barren Womb, and giving us a Son in our old Age; nay, more, a Son that is a Prophet to prepare the way of him on whom the happiness of mankind does depend.  E. 
My Heart is o'reflowed with joy, nor can my tongue relate what I conceive; nor am I capable of rendering sufficient praises to the Lord, who has been pease to ●isit his low handmaid, and took from her, ● her loathed reproach.  Z. 
Had you but seen the glorious Vision, the bright Messenger of Heaven, that brought the happy news, that blessed assurance of what is come to pass you would have been the more transported.  E. 
I dare believe no less, yet you durst doubt the truth of what his high Behest imorted.  Z. 
I did indeed, and had my punishment for so much incredulity, the Organs ●f my voice denied their office, rendering me a Mute, till my aged Eyes beheld the dear, the welcome, the thrice welcome Babe sprung from the Womb of my Elizabeth.  E. 
'Tis just with Heavens eternal King, who had done such great things for you, that you were so punished, and stand as an example to the diffident.  Z. 
But since I am restored, i'll use my diligence to make Atonement for my vile stupidity, apply the voice returned in hyming him, and telling of his wonders; nay more, that we may both be happier in our Son, let us observe to train him up as Heaven has given directions.  E. 
That, next to praising our great Benefactor, who with Mercies and choice Favours every way incompasses us, shall be my chief care, but see the Sacrifices wait, you must now to the Temple.  Z. 
With joy I go to glorify the God who does ●ouchsafe to dwell with his Inheritance.  E. 
Hast then whilst I retire, and offer up the Sacrifices of a contrite Heart, which God has promised never to reject.  

Conclusion.  
Thus joy the blessed Pair in their success,  
Whilst God, what e'er they take in hand, ●●es bless.    

A Dialogue between the three Kings of the East upon their return.  
The Argument.  
The Sceptered Monarches that so lately came  
To worship him that made the Glorious Frame  
Of the whole Universe: Herod deceive  
Of what he durst expect, and Juda leave  
Unknown to him, which makes him storm and grieve.  1 K. 
WIth what earnestness the bloody minded King of juda made inquiry for the Heavenly Infant; I than perceived his drift was ●ut to get him once into his power; for why, the prophecy concerning the all-glorious Babe, and our enquiry started him, and made him doubt his ●mpire.  2 K. 
It could no less to one who (blinded with the Gild of such great crimes as he by his Tyranny has pulled upon himself) had no further sight of Sacred things: The Babe is born a Heavenly not an Earthly Prince, his Kingdom is above all heights transcendent, glorious, beautiful beyond expression.  3 K. 
'Tis true, and we have seen a God on Earth, this, this is he of whom the Cybils did so darkly sing: The Child let down from Heaven in a bright burnished Chain of Gold, that should shut Ianus' Temple, and invest the World with Peace.  1 K. 
Undoubtedly the same, and happy is the Jewish Nation, if they understood aright this blessing, this is the Star that should arise out of jacob, this is the great Deliverer, the great Preserver of his People, this is he of whom the Prophets have so loudly told.  2 K. 
Nor are we less obliged to wise Omnipotence, that did vouchsafe to make us privy to so great a mystery, revealing to us what had happened, and disposing us to follow the bright Star hung low in the thin Region of the Air, that it might be our kind Conductor to the happy place.  3 K. 
Nor was the glittering Angel less careful of his Lord, when in our slumbers he forewarned us to return another way, and not as we determined, see the wicked King.  1 K. 
I can but think how Herod's rage will rise, to find himself so much deluded.  2 K. 
Doubtless it will, but all his fury will be spent in vain, the end, for which the Glorious God came down, and was incarnate, must be accomplished ere he does ascend to seat himself upon his Saphire Throne.  3 K. 
It must, so all the Prophets say, yet in the end, when as his glorious course is 〈…〉 when he has finished his great 〈…〉 ●or lost 〈…〉  1 K. 
That indeed must be the result, but then triumphing over the Grave, he will in rays of brightest Majesty ascend, and draw all those that love him, and adore his goodness after him  2 K. 
No less do I conclude, but see we are arrived at a fair City, here let us repose this night, and contemplate on this wonder.  3 K. 
Agreed great King, we will be content to do as you have said.  

Conclusion.  
Thus to their County the pleased Monarches go,  
And there whate'er they have heard and seen they show.    

A Dialogue between Herod and his chief Captain.  
The Argument.  
The bloody minded Tyrant in a rage,  
To kill him, whom the Prophets did presage  
King of the Jews, in Bethlehem murders all  
‛ Neath two years old, that he i'th' crowd may fall.  H. 
AM I then deluded by the Eastern Kings, say you, are they departed to their own Abodes, and he that Fame has rumoured must deprive me of my Sceptre, is hid, past, finding out.  
'Tis so most Potent Monarch, the Kings are journyed through the Wilderness, and by this time have reached their Native Lands; the Infant, though all diligent inquire has been made, is no where to be found.  H. 
So to be served makes me all Fury, O! that 〈◊〉 was not such a March over the vast Deserts to the ●ands of those deluding Monarches; Fire and Sword should speak myanger; what is in my power I'll do, to make my Title sure; Captain make haste, and draw up all my men of War, I have a great design in hand, which Labours in my Breast.  C. 
What means my Lord the King, what are his thoughts? thus low I beg to be made privy to the intentions of a Monarch.  H. 
You are my faithful Counsellor, and to your Care and Conduct, what your King intends shall be committed; all the male infants in suspicious Bethlehem, and throughout every Border appertaining to that City, are doomed dead from two years old and under; that amongst them, him that I suspect, may fall, so that the madding People, who are ever fond of innovation, may be retained in their obedience.  C. 
'Tis brave, though bloody, yet the King shall be obeyed before to morrow this time; not a Brat shall live beneath the Age you mention, no ●ity or remorse shall be of force to stay our Hands, to the cries of tender Mothers we will be deaf as Seas, and whilst the Younglings sprawl upon our Spears, our Hearts sha●l be as hard ●s Adamant, no lurking holes shall save them from our fu●y; death, death shall be their portion, from the tender breasts we will snatch them to untimely Graves.  H. 
Your resolution fits my purpose, and when put in execution, will quickly hush my fears; therefore about it straight, make● no delay, whilst I retire, and with impatience expect a full account of your proceedings.  C. 
My Speed shall show my willingness in what I undertake, Death and Fury now inspire me for the blackest Murders the bright Lamp of Day ever yet beheld.  

Conclusion.  
The Plot thus laid, in practice soon is put,  
The Throats of near six thousand Infants cut  
By Herod's cruel Soldiers, whilst the cries  
Of tender Mothers, pierce the weeping Skies:  
But vain the Tyrant seeks the Life of him  
That wears the glorious starry Diadem;  
For he to Egypt flies, but Rachel sore  
Laments her Sons, because they are no more.    

Imagined Discourse between Joseph and Mary upon their returning out of Egypt.  
The Argument.  
The blessed Pair admire God's Providence,  
And glorify his great Omnipotence,  
Who, murdering Herod struck with fearful Death,  
Bri●ging them safely to fair Nazareth.  I. 
THe cruel Tyrant that late raged in slaughter, and died deep his hands in blood of Innocents', is tumbled in the dust, his bold Ambition is sunk beneath the Grave.  M. 
In vain he strove to rob us of our only joy, in vain he plotted to surprise the Life of our dear Son and Lord.  I. 
All that Man does against the great decrees of Heaven, is unprosperous, no force nor policy can ever prevail against Omnipotence.  M. 
'Tis true, but yet his murder●●● 〈◊〉 have made some thousands childless.  I. 
Although his cruelty, by God's high sufferance, extended to the shedding of their blood; yet they are happy, falling for the sake of him who came to save them from eternal Death; and God that can make fruitful barren Wombs, can when he pleases give their Parents a supply.  M. 
With him 'tis true, there is nothing impossible, therefore how ought men to adore his sacred Name, and at an awful distance struck with admiration, contemplate his wonders.  I. 
They ought indeed with lowest reverence admire, and love such boundless goodness; nor shall my Tongue ever want praises for the Mercies he has showed, nor will I spare to tell of all his loving kindness.  M. 
We will praise him in the Beauty of his Holiness ' and never cease to bow before the Footstool of his Throne of Grace, and with humility revere his tremendous Majesty.  I. 
'Tis fit we should, but now Night hasts apace▪ and we must rest ourselves awhile, and in this hospitable place refresh the blessed Infant, the sole car● of Heaven.  M. 
'Tis indeed convenient, that when the Sun, risin●●lorious in the East sends forth his Beams to cheer th● Bosom of the Earth, we may reach the much desire● Coast of Galilee, it not being yet safe for us to go t● Bethlehem, because the Tyrant's Son reigns in Judea.  

Conclusion.  
Thus out of Egypt did God call his Son,  
Whom there ●e sent, the Tyrant's rage to shu●    

An imagined Discourse between Jarus and his Daughter, after her being raised from the dead.  D. 
Alas my Father, why is it you suffered me to slumber thus unmeasurably.  F. 
Slumber my dear Child, had not Heaven's Favourite been propitious, it had been everlasting sleep.  D. 
Indeed I could have been contented to have slept on, if I thought you'd not have chid me for my drowsiness, for I was much delighted with the pleasant Visions I beheld, or Fancy represented.  F. 
Vision says my Child— Alas they were Visions, but must needs be strange ones.  D. 
O me! I must confess they were something strange, for I remember whilst you and my Mother sat weeping by the Bed, that a blue mist came o'er my Eyes, and dozed my Senses; when methoughts a lovely Youth ●l●d in a glorious Garb, stood by me, and with beaming Eyes so dazzled me with rays of Light, that I was much amazed; But long he pawzed not, ere he snatched me from my bed, and with expanded Wings slew swift, as I thought, through many Regions paved with Stars, a shining with glittering Fires; where I beheld strange shapes, and heard amazing voices, when mounting still, at last he brought me within sight of a most Glorious Mansion, whose outside shone with such exceeding brightness, that I was obliged sometimes to shut mine eyes, as not capable of steady gazing: At the Gate stood throngs of Glorious Forms, in Robes of purest White, with Crowns of Gold upon their Heads, Palms in their Hands, and Golden Harps, whereon they play melodious, and ravished all my Senses with their charming voices, seeming in their Songs to express much joy at our approach; but being about to enter, methought I heard a voice as loud as thund ere cry, return, when on a sudden down I sunk like Lightning, and starting at the supposed fall, I waked.  F. 
And do you fancy than you only slept.  D. 
What more, since what I saw, I wakening, find to be a dream, the mere representation of a roving Fancy.  F. 
Mistake not my dear Daughter, for to your Father's grief, your Soul was separated by the hand of Deat● from its loved Mansion; this beauteous Form in which now streams warm blood, was some hours since a cold, pale, lifeless course.  D. 
How?— was I dead— How? dead, O speak.  F. 
Yes, Death had snatched thee from me, leaving me to mourn for so great a loss, and thou hadst been no more, had not the mighty Prophet by his word called back thy fleeting Soul.  D. 
How can it be that I should be dead? but if it be no more pain to die than what I felt, I shall hereafter dread Death less; yet say, was that the Prophet that stood by me when I waked, methought he looked most lovely.  F. 
It was the wonder-working Prophet, whose great Miracles astonish all mankind; but since my joy again is full, in having my sole comfort by his power restored, and rescued from the Grave; let us hence, and publish the amazing news to our Relations, that they all may join with us in praising him, who has given back my Daughter's Life.  D. 
My Father shall be in what he thinks fit, obeyed, and I for my part will addict myself to Virtues ways, that when I die, if die I must again; I may enter at the glorious Gate I was, or fancied that I was so near.  

Conclusion.  
That there with those blessed Spirits I may sing  
Loud praises to the Glorious Heavenly King;  
And him adore who kindly brought me back  
To Life again, for his d●w Mercies sake.    

A Dialogue between Herod and Herodias' Daughter.  
The Argument.  
The nimble footed Virgin pleased the King  
So well, that he commands her to ask any thing  
That's in his power to give, the crafty Maid  
Consults her Mother, and does ask the Head  
Of John the Baptist, who for her must bleed.  H. 
HAs the beauteous Maid, whose nimble feet in mystic order moving, so well pleased a King, considered what to ask, that as I promised, I may grow lavish to complete her wish.  Dam. 
My Lord I have considered, and it is neither Gold nor Silver I demand, no nor Gems, nor places of high Honour, but—  H. 
But— What, speak out thou pretty charming Creature, and be soon possessed of whatsoever your thoughts can form.  Dam. 
It is but a trifle, My Lord, that I demand.  H. 
A trifle, why were it half my Kingdom, 'tis at your command; my Oath is past, and shall not be recalled; therefore let me soon know what it is you long for.  Dam. 
Then great King 'tis— 'tis— the— Head—  H. 
The Head, what Head? speak boldly, come.  Dam. 
Why, to be plain, the Head of John the Baptist.  H. 
A trifle say you, O! that I had never passed so rash a Vow; this it is to trust a Woman with a power unlimited— But why is it you demand the Head of that good Man? you are young, and should not thus delight in cruelty.  Dam. 
Great Sir, he has displeased the Queen my Mother.  H. 
O are you thereabout— Cruel— Cruel Woman, could no revenge, but such as bears a horrid guilt even in its name, appease her fury.  Dam. 
She charged me on her blessing I should ●●k no other recompense, therefore the Gild be upon your Queen, your Brother's once beloved Wife, and not on me; for so much crudelity is contrary to the soft Nature of a tender Virgin.  H. 
Although I much repent I trusted a Womankind with Vows unnamed, yet shall it never be said a Monarch broke his Oath— Go Executioner, and fetch the Head of him I dearly love, and give it her, to satiate the cruel eyes of her Bloodthirsty Mother, from this moment my much hated Queen.  Dam. 
Well great King, I'll wait its coming, though you are very angry, for I will assure you, I dare not return without it.  H. 
What would you more, have not I given command; though I must needs confess it was more for honour's sake, than any kindness to my Queen, or you, whose Bold Petition has disturbed my rest; and may the blood return upon your Heads, whilst I retire, and mourn my unadvised concession.  Dam. 
How angry is my Father in Law— yet let him know I fear not all his Frowns, for well I am assured my Mother soon can smooth his wrinkled Front, and calm the tempest of his mind.— So, it is brought, and in a Charger; O! how won it looks? how throb the Lips with dying murmurs; but however, I●le go bare it to my Mother as it is, that it may save her longing.  

Conclusion.  
Thus, thus the glorious Prophet fell  
By Malice deep, as could be forged in He ll.  
A wicked Woman and an easy King  
The stroke of Death to that great Prophet bring,  
Whose voice cried loud; he who was sent before,  
As Messenger to him we do adore.    

An Imagined Dialogue between the five foolish Virgins.  
The Argument.  
The foolish Virgins mourn their oversight,  
And grieve, their Lamps retained not Oil to light  
The Bridegroom through the dark and gloomy Night.  1 V. 
O! What has our Folly done? in what sad darkness are we left? how wretched! O how miserable!  2 V. 
Indeed we are, though we feared no such matter; alas, alas what shall we do? you see companions that we are shut out, not for a time, for then there was some hopes, but out for ever.  3 V. 
How! For ever! O Heart-breaking news, must we never see the Bridegrrom then? no not see his Face.  4 V. 
No, he has withdrawn himself, the Gates are ever closed against us, and our knocking will be vain.  5 V. 
O! I am almost mad to think how foolishly we lost the happy opportunity, that would for ever have enabled us to stand in his bright presence.  1 V. 
Name, name no more our fatal oversight, lest it add yet to our weighty Sorrow  2 V. 
Yet methinks I cannot forget the happiness we lost, methinks the bright and dazzling Idea of the loved Bridegroom still represents itself to my well pleased Eyes.  3 V. 
And yet we never must behold him more, his Face is turned away, he knows us not, his Countenance so Amiable, so ravishing, and so transporting, will no more shine on us with Soul-inlightning Rays, his Smiles most affable, we never more shall be delighted with.  4 V. 
Since it is so, let us retire and mourn the loss our Follies have occasioned, weep till our heads are water, and our eyes a Fountain of continual Tears.  5 V. 
Weep for our Folly, fill the world with grief,  
Since our condition is beyond relief,  
Torment the Air with sighs, and loudly cry  
For want of Oil, though 'tis too late to buy.   

A fancied Dialogue between Judas and the High Priest.  
The Argument.  
Judas is tempted to betray his Lord  
Taking the Coin the wicked Jews afford,  
To mark him out, whilst he is seized at last,  
And into bonds the Lord of Glory cast.  H. P. 
COme, come, why boggle you? at what, when once recorded, will make you known in story, till the world shall be no more? why, who would not act a thing of such small moment, to have his name registered in the Rolls of Fame.  Ju. 
What will that profit me? when it is but to my Infamy, my shame and everlasting blot; I shall b● so exposed to after Ages.  H. P. 
Have you not the protection of the great High Priest, Aaron's successor, and expounder of the Law, to guard your Fame by countenancing wh●t you undertake.  J. 
But yet my Conscience— Methinks something within informs me it is a horrid Crime, the basest of Ingratitude, to prove perfidious to so good a Master.  H. P. 
Pish— Let not such vain imaginations startle you; come, come, resolve to do it, nay I find what it is that you expect; here, here is the thing that must prevail above all arguments.  J. 
How! thirty Roman Pence— A Sum it is true would tempt a man to do a daring deed. But,—  H. P. 
But what— nay trifle not, see night comes on, the night that must be followed by the day, that must behold him that does style himself the King of the jews, in bonds.  J. 
Well waving further Ceremony, I'll stifle my upbraiding Conscience; sere it with all dark resolves, and desperately comply with your demands.  H. P. 
Bravely spoke, our Guard● shall instantly attend you; but what is the sign by which you will distinguish him.  J. 
With a Face as bold as Death, fraughted with mischief, I will bare up to him, and with a treacherous kiss salute him, and then let those that have the charge, be sure to catch him.  H. P. 
No fairer token can you give, but it is no time now to delaythe thing; come, come, let us ●bout it, and secure him ere the Sun salutes the East; lest the mad People, fond of innovation, should murmur, nay should mutiny upon such a seizure, which they will term an outrage; for we are not ignorant what fame his Miracles have won, and ●ow he is beloved; see, see the Guards are ready, ●hen along with them▪ whilst I retire to the consulting Sanadrim, and there contrive what shall be ●urther done.  J. 
I go, though to perform the blackest deed that Hell ever put into the Heart of Man, yet I have promised, and I will perform, though Fa●● and Destiny does push me headlong into monstrous ruin.  

Conclusion.  
The Plot thus laid, the Lord of Life's betrayed  
And bound before the Sanadrim is lead,  
Scorned and reviled, scourged, and at last condemned  
Crowned with sharp thorns, and impiously blasphemed.  
Stretched on a Cross, the Lord of glory dies  
Who reigns in Heaven above the starry Skies.    

Peter's Lamentation.  
WRetch that I am, what have I done? how great  
Is this black Crime, O where shall I retreat?  
To hide my Gild, what blushes burn my Face,  
What Stings my Conscience feel, what hiding place  
Can shelter him; from woes he cannot fly:  
No place can shroud me from his piercing eye,  
Who views at once Hell's depth, and Heavens vast height;  
To whom all gloomy darkness is as light.  
Fool that I was to be so confident,  
So resolutely, so presumptuous bend  
Upon my strength, when I'm at best but dust,  
Frail man, too weak my own resolves to trust;  
But it is passed— sad thought— yet now in vain  
I would recall what I have done again  
All I can do is now to mourn the sin,  
That I, presumptuous I, have plunged in:  
O let my eyes then be a Stream, a Flood,  
Nay let me weep for tears, a stream of blood,  
Sighs and sad Groa●s shall all my music be,  
Sobs and laments shall dwell, shall dwell with me;  
Lord look on me, me● wretched man,  
Who wanting thy Compassion, am undone.  
O mercy, mercy ease my troubled mind,  
Let me, ingrateful me, some mercy find,  
Me that denied him, who first gave me breath,  
Me that denied him who's condemned to death.  
O pity me, my weakness Lord forgive,  
Without thy Pardon, Lord, I cannot live;  
My Soul's distracted, a fierce war's within  
Disturbs my rest, the bold, the shameful sin,  
Preys on my Spirits, and will give no rest:  
Then mercy show to him that is oppressed:  
O let thy dear compassion take away  
The Sting of Conscience, ease me Lord, I pray;  
I cry ●loud, covered with dust I lie  
Even at thy Feet, O pity, or I die.  
Raise, raise a sullen Wre●ch, that he may be  
An object of ●hy saving Clemency.  
My Cries are heard, a calm o'respreads my Soul,  
No storms of trouble my free thoughts control:  
O boundless, boundless is his goodness still,  
Therefore I'll strive henceforth to do his will.   

〈◊〉 Swine possessed.  
SEe, see how Satan's Malice still is bend,  
He who was in a guilful Serpent penned;  
When he in Eden did seduce fair Eve,  
And her, to man-kind's misery, deceive:  
Rather than now he'll idle be, he'll join  
Infernal nature with the dirty Swine;  
Not sparing senseless Brutes, such is his hate  
To all, that God for his glory did create;  
Yet limited is his fierce wrath we see,  
It cannot without Christ's permission be:  
But having leave, the spiteful Legion straight  
The grunting Herd with horrid cries amate,  
Who now grown wild, their Keepers put to ●light,  
And all the Tribe with antic dancing fright.  
Sometimes they stand an end, sometimes they roll,  
Nay, bound aloft, and leap without control,  
ere all that does oppose them in their way;  
No bars nor bounders their fierce course can stay,  
Till like a to●rrent down the hills they scour  
Into the S●as, which does them all devour.   

Considerations upon our Saviour's compassion to the Thief upon the Cross.  
HOw good, how great, how merciful, how just,  
Is God to those who in him put their trust;  
How is his Arms of mercy open wide  
To those that in his saving Power confide;  
See, see the Thief, who all his life had been  
A Drudge to Satan, slave to wretched sin;  
At that sad time wh●n Death looked grimly dr●a●,  
And he of Li●e b●t a f●w moment's had,  
Repenting, is restored, ●ay more, i● blest,  
With iowas, that are with m●ns tongue express▪  
●●rely acknowledging 〈…〉  
To rai●e his So●l above th● 〈◊〉 Skies,  
Acknowledging his sin, and ●reachi●g thence  
T●e ●ord of gl●●i●s p●r●●●● innocence:  
〈◊〉 care was not ●or 〈◊〉 h●ppi●es●,  
●ut sudden 〈…〉 him to expr●●●,  
remember me, Lo●●, when 〈…〉 into  
● Kingdom that can only be thy ●ue.  
●ut his comp●●r desirous still 〈…〉  
●reaming o● Pleasures' 〈◊〉 jo●●● w●t● stri●e,  
forgot his Soul▪ an●●ail●d ag●●●●● t●● Lo●●  
●ho for his sake, did 〈…〉.  
●o that 〈◊〉 ●ellow chose the be●ter part,  
●hose w●●s once ●●ded, swift as 〈…〉  
●hes his deluding S●ul to th●●● ble●t ●oys,  
●here Care nor 〈◊〉 no more mankind 〈◊〉▪   

judas his Dispair.  
Wretch that I am, why do I view the light?  
Why sink I not in everlasting night?  
Why do not hottest lightnings strike me dead?  
Why fall not Bolts of Thunder on my h●ad?  
Why yawns not Earth to suck me in? and why  
Find I not means myself wi●h speed to die?  
Why live I in these torments worse than death?  
In this sad torture, this sad Hell on Earth;  
O Wretch! what sting of Conscience do I feel?  
More sharp th●n all the force of fatal steel,  
More deadly than the poison stings of Asps:  
Dread horror my affrighted soul now clasps:  
Accursed Silver that could make me prove  
A Traitor to my Lord, who sacred love  
Beamed on me o●t, but I have cast it back,  
May it my ruin on the giver's wrack,  
Whilst this fit Cord stops— thus my loathed breath  
Whilst thus I seek some easement in my death.   

A Dialogue between Pilate and his Wife.  
The Argument.  
The virtuous Wife of Roman Pilate`ss grieved,  
Because she was not as she ought believed,  
Telling n●w plainly wha● is her true sense,  
And let`s him know his desperate offence.  W. 
UNhappy are you to be overruled by the ma● rout; why would you yield to their roug● clamours, to destroy the innocent?  P. 
I laboured to deliver that just man, but found it w● in vain, for still no other cry than crucify him, sounds through the judgment-hall.  W. 
Yet you might have used your high Authori●●●o still the rout; who being set on by their malicio● Rulers, knew not against whom they cried, nor wh● it was they did.  P. 
I dare believe as much, but the sad deed is p●●ecal, and all you argue now is vain.  W. 
As to retrieve the fact it is; but yet the glorious Prophet, whom the foolish People think now dead, if my Dreams inform me right, lives, lives Immortal, never more to die.  P. 
How, lives! Then fear strikes me, horror chills me, and I tremble at what you relate.  W. 
It was no common man, that in that barbarous manner they have used; but one who in his Hands has power of Life and Death: A Power invincible, not to be subdued by Armies, had he not consented to lay down his Life.  P. 
Indeed his meekness melted me into Compassion, and made me labour to deliver him.  W. 
This, this was he of whom the Cibils sung in mystic numbers, this, this was that dear Prince of ●eace▪ that should give Peace to the long warring World.  P. 
Then I am guilty of a horrid Crime, but now it is ●ast, in vain it is to argue it; what I have done, I in a ●anner was compelled to do; therefore the Blood s●●●ed, be on the guilty Nation, as the clamorous Rout required.  
whilst I go mourn to wash away the Gild ●f Blood so precious, yet so vilely spilt.  W. 
And I likewise retire with fear and dread ●o worship him the foolish jews think dead.   

Zacheus in the Sycamore Tree.  
A Prophet Risen, yes, a Prophet great,  
Good, just, and wise, if Fame the truth relate,  
●s is wonder-working power has raised in me  
wondrous longing his loved Face to see;  
●t still he is encompassed with such croud●,  
●●at each huge bulk the happy Object shrouds,  
●om my low stature, yet I heard men say,  
〈◊〉 was to travel through a narrow way  
●ading directly to my house, if so,  
〈◊〉 add a height to what appears so low;  
Upon the Branches of this shading Tree  
Little Zacheus sh●ll advanced be:  
So— now I`m up, and hither flows the crowd  
With shouts, with Praises, and hosannah's loud;  
'Tis, 'tis the Lord, now I shall see his Face;  
O that I in his eyes may find some grace,  
How loudly looks he? O! ●ow innocent,  
And now on me his radiant eyes are bend:  
Ha— see he beckons, I●le with speed descend,  
And on the wonder-working Lord attend.  

Conclusion.  
Thus goes the faithful Man, and by command  
Does entertain the Lord of Sea and Land,  
The King of all the Gl●●ious Heavenly Band.    

Nicodemus his Considerations, formed into a Dialogue between him and the World.  
The Argument.  
By night the Ruler comes, resolved to hear  
The sacred Doctrine, 'c●use the Panic fear  
He had of misbelei●ing Juda ●w'd,  
Mor● than the wrath of an incensed God.  W. 
STrange it is you should neglect my moti●● at this rate, and pin● away with Imagin●●tions of you know not what.  N. 
Be s●ill l●ud 〈◊〉 F●lly, something wit● command● me to obey i●s dictates, and fly wit● speed the Physician.  W. 
To the physician, why? are you dis●ase then if so, it is su●e I have a thousand Cordials give you ease, made up of rich ingredients, such seldom fail mankind.  N. 
Aless, t●● oft they do, and a●e at b●st but luscious P●is●n, w●ich ma● be antidoted f●r a time, but in the e●d de●tr●●s the Patient.  W. 
How— why sure the Man on whom I have bestowed so many Favours, cannot be so much in●r●●●ful to reject my kind advice.  N. 
Forbea● t● trouble m●, s●●●e it is no● in your ●ow●r thrive me ease, a wounded So●l you cannot c●re, but 〈◊〉 make it w●rse.  ●. 
〈◊〉 ●hat the thing that thu● disturbs my darling, 〈◊〉 i● that be al●, it is 〈◊〉 ●●ing ●o●al f●r a day ●r ●●o, but feasting ●our dull Senses wi●h delight, and all your cares ●ill vanish.  N. 
In v●in you ●rge i●, therefore u●ge no more, fr●m ●his da● I renounce you and yo●● guil●●d vanities; my 〈◊〉, Tre●sures, or wh●te●●● you 〈◊〉 a soli● 〈…〉 henceforth be no 〈◊〉 t●e solace of m● mind, b●t Virtue, that essential ha●●●n●ss, shall b● my de●r companion.  W. 
And will you then cast off ●our Grandeur, Gai●y, lay by your awful Robes, an● leave your sumptuous Fare, to pine and languish, to be fed with ●ears and sighs, as those that do forsake me are; will you, I say, fall under sad reproach, contempt, ●nd scorn.  N. 
This and much more I`le do for everlasting Life. ●●r will I argue longer, lest the happy motion tha● dis●●ses me to happiness, should fail; but with s●ift feet, whilst ●ark●ess mantles in the World, fly ●o the Fountain ●f all ●o●s.  W. 
But thither I will ●ollw th●e, and pull th●e ●ick, if possible.  

〈…〉 ●our belei●▪ and st●ive to blind your Sense,  
That you shall dimly see true Excellence.    

A Memento to Hypocrites, or an Imagined Dialogue between Ananias and Saphira.  
The Argument.  
The Plot's contrived, they would have Heaven, and yet  
Too great a price they would not give for it,  
But purchase at a rate themselves think fit.  
SEe how the crowding Pe ople flow to hear the new sprung Doctrine, and bring daily Gifts to those that teach it.  A. 
It is true, nor must we be behind hand, since we have embraced it.  S. 
It is true, but if we sell our poor inheritance, and part with all the price, how shall we afterwards subsist; Indeed I'd willingly partake of the joys the Teacher's promise; yet methinks I would not be poor, for that will r●nder us contemptible.  A. 
Take no care for that, we`ll give, and yet we will save enough to keep us from contempt.  S. 
But how if the fraud should be discovered.  A. 
O fear it not, what Mortal can discover it? he that bought it, knows not ou● intention, or if he does, will never inquire how we bestow the coin.  S. 
I dare believe as much, therefore go you, and lay a part of it at the great Teachers Feet, whilst ● secure the rest, and then I will follow for my Benediction.  A. 
I'll do as you advise, and hope to be as well accepted as those who part with all they have,  S. 
But if you should be asked, if what you bring, is the total Sum, where are you then.  A. 
Why thinkest thou, he that has devised, canno● without a blush, affirm it is the whole? nor let you● assuration be less, lest we should differ, and by tha● means be detected.  S. 
I'll warrant you I'll have my lesson, therefore be concerned no further, but about it.  

Conclusion.  
Thus is the project laid, though all in vain,  
Yet such an one as might deceive mere man;  
But good St. Peter filled with holy fire,  
Sees through the thin device, and as their hire  
Gives them to death, by whose hard hand they die,  
That to the holy Ghost durst boldly l●.    

A Dialogue between Satan and Simon Magus.  
The Argument.  
The Prince of darkness angry that his power  
Is baffled by God's sacred Word, a shower  
Of wrath designs to rain, but can't devour.  S. 
HOw now my Viceroy, wherefore is it you give ground? have not I furnished you with Miracles, and sealed you with my mighty wonders.  Si. 
Great Prince of ●●●kness, whom I still admire, I● cannot be that you are ignorant of all the wonders; that of late have overspread the Coast, Miracles so far exceeding what is in my power, that now whatever I do, but dimly shines, my Fame is quite eclipsed, and all my Reputation is lost.  Sa. 
Ha— Can such a thing ever be, when I use such transcendent diligence to make you dreaded throughout every Coast; what Miracles unheard of haste thou wrought? when once assisted by my flaming Legions; what storms have risen at thy bidding? What loud thunderings roared, and lightnings seemed to burn the World? how has the trembling Earth been tossed? and how the ocean stilled and s●irr'd; what Mackins haste thou reared by Magic power to please the eyes of Princes? how at thy voice have swiftest Rivers stayed? and when you pleased, the standing pools raved like the Ocean; how have you turned clear Waters into Blood? and form dire serpent's, from whose threatening stings amazed man kind fled, and is it possible that you should be out do●e.  Si. 
It i●, and all my Magic Power i● vanished, n●r can you b● ignorant of wh●se command I am utterly disabled.  Sa. 
It is true, I am not, yet I will do what is in my Power, to overthrow the Power set up against my Kingdom, nor must you be wanting, as an instrument in my Fierce hand; all my dread Legions shall be set on work to raise up Enemy's against them and inspire my Servants with revenge to shed the blood of those I hate; and such a storm I will raise, that they shall soon be sensible against what power they strive; be diligent then, and expect to ●e protected, if my force and stratagems do not deceive me, whilst I descend and muster up my Legions.  vanishes. Si. 
I wish I were well rid of this di●e slavery, O  
what a Wretch is he that is ●●und to such a Master!  
But I'll st●ive, although I think it vain,  
To cast his hellish yokes and break his chain.  
T● those blessed men I'll g●, that do subdue  
Infernal pours, and h●mbly t● them sue  
That th●●ll 〈◊〉 on me a power that may  
Oblige my wicked Master to obey.   

A Dialalogue imagined between the dispossessed Damsel and her Master, when Paul and Silas were released out of Prison.  
The Argument.  
The Mutineer's rebuked, and grieves to find  
His wickedness so vainly was designed.  Dam. 
CRuel man, how durst you raise an accusation against those who have commission from the highest God, even him that rules all things and fills all places.  Ma. 
Was there n●t a cause, since th●y have disposessed me of my profit, that was daily wont to accrae t● me by y●●r strange divination, when to purchase you of your aged Pa●ents, I was obliged to sell my dear Inheritance.  Dam. 
That was not cause sufficient, but if it was, you see your purpose is quite frustrated; I knew them who they were, and therefore cried on purpose to be thus released, to be delivered from the struggling Fiend that laboured in my Breast, and see ●is come to pass as I could wish.  M. 
It is so, and by it I am undone for ever; O! how rich should I have been, had not these Men unhappily arrived; but yet they went not hence unpunished.  D. 
Yet woe to them, whose wicked hands have done so cursed a deed; better it was they never had viewed the light: It plain appears how much their God was angry, when he shuck the Earth's foundation, that the tottering World seemed to unhinge; his presence too was seen in the amazing brightness that filled all the place, 'twas he that loosed them from their bands, and stayed the Gaolers rash design, he bowed the hearts of those proud Magistrates, and made them tremble at what they had done.  M. 
'Tis all mysterious, and methinks I am smitten with remorse, but tell me are you pleased now as heretofore, when your admired breast was held the Cabinet of Fate, to tell things admirable, and unriddle darkest Mysteries, proclaim what future Ages should produce, and well presage the sure events of Peace and War.  D. 
Pleased infinitely more, for now instead of a damned fury that inebriated all my Senses, whilst he yelled his horrid stories, divine rays of saving Grace enlighten my dark Soul, O blessed change.  M. 
You tell me stories strange, but yet I must believe ●hem true, and henceforth make it my endeavours to bewail my crime.  
That I may scape the Fury of that God,  
That shook the Earth, unfixing its vast load.  D. 
'Tis well if you repent you of your sin,  
ere his fierce wrath to fall on you begin;  
And ask a pardon where you did offend,  
Lest Cattaracts of flame on you descend.   

A Supposed Dialogue between Demetrius and his Fellow.  D. 
SEe you not Fellow Labourer, how great Diana's Name is almost sunk, since this new Doctrine has or'espread our Coast, none now regard her Shrines as heretofore.  F. 
'Tis true, we see it but too plain, how her neglected Altar stands, no crowds of Grecians now rest her Faun, but listening to new Doctrine, are become regardless.  D. 
Our trade you see is lost thereby, and we reduced to poverty, therefore give counsel what course we must take to uneclipse the Goddess fame, and settle the giddy Multitit●de to their old devotion.  F. 
No better way, than by insinuating the dangerous consequence of this new doctrine, to set the rout a madding, raise a tumult, and whilst each gabbles out he knows not what, put all into confusion.  D. 
But what would be the effect of such disorder, should we raise it?  F. 
O! slow of apprehension, why in the uproar, these Teachers, ten to one, will fall a Sacrifice to the unruly Fury of the vulgar, who in their heat triumph in mischief, that w●en cool they sadly lament.  D. 
Let us lose no time then, but disperse ourselves amongst them, and proclaim the wonders great Diana has already done, and tell what more she is like to do, and clamour loud, great is Diana of the Ephesians.  F. 
We will instantly put this in practice, that your trade may be restored; come, come about it.  

Conclusion.  
Thus boldly they presume, for gain, to do,  
A wickedness, and madness does ensue,  
Unheard of insolence, the senseless rout  
Haling the blessed Apostles, who past doubt  
Had there been slain, had not the Town-Clerk stood  
Their Friend, and saved the shedding of their blood.    

Euticus his considerations after his being raised from oh dead.  
O Fatal slumber! Satan's guilded bait;  
Our Souls, of Gods most powerful word, to cheat.  
O dismal drowsiness! in such a place,  
Could I not give attention for a space;  
No, the temptation was grown strong, and I  
For not resisting it, deserved to die:  
Die, yes, why dead I was, and dead I might,  
Have plunged by this time into eternal night,  
Had not the great Apostle taken care,  
In Christ's dread Name, ere my Soul straggled far,  
From its left Corpse, to call i● back again,  
And by his word restored it without pain:  
Rescued thus from the hands of cruel death,  
Who had already seized upon my breath.  
I live a monument to glorify  
The Lord of Host, whose dwelling is on high,  
And henceforth will not dare offend my God,  
Who in his mercy is to me so good.   

A Dialogue between the Mariners, after St. Paul's shipwreck.  
The Argument.  
The Mariner's now safe at land, ad●i●e  
The great Apostle, who from Seas dread ire  
Preserved them safe, and Heavens hot darling fire.  1 M. 
O What a Tempest have we scaped! how the rough winds assailed from all their quarters our distressed Bark, and yet strong she laboured with the waves.  2 M. 
'Tis true, the ●laming Skies sent fire upon us in such dreadful sort, that every moment I expected we should be a blaze.  3 M. 
'Tis wonderful that none of us should perish in sogreat a danger.  1. M. 
We might have prevented this sad ruin, had we taken the good Prisoners word, who told us what would come to pass.  2 M. 
Sure he is some Angel, that was sent to save, for I never thought we could have weathered such a Tempest, to have brought our Ship into the Harbour.  3 M. 
He is a Heavenly Man past doubt, some man protected by a power divine, or else the Viper would have killed him.  1 M. 
Nay ●he wicked Soldiers were about to do it, and we should have perished for his blood.  2 M. 
I wonder what he is sent to Caesar for.  3 M. 
They say about his Doctrine, If so, I doubt not but he will come off, for all he speaks is Heavenly, and I hear him ever.  1 M. 
Nay of us admire; but now night calls us, and we must to our apartments, and for the future, if we get another Vessel, I kope our Master will regard him more, and give good heed to all he says.  2 M. 
He ought to do it, and no doubt when Caesar hears of what has passed, he will not frown upon a Man, for whose sake, Heaven has spared our lives; but come for this time let us hence.  

Conclusion.  
Thus far the great Apostle is arrived,  
In vain is all, his Foes have yet contrived;  
To Rome he next proceeds, and wins applause  
In pleading his dear masters sacred cause:  
Strengthening the weak, confirming those that stand,  
Converting many, and has great command  
O'er Hearts of men, till monstrous Nero, stirred  
By Satan's Malice, kills him with a Sword.    

On the Infancy of our Saviour.  
HAil blessed Virgin, full of Heavenly Grace,  
Blest above all that sprang from humane race,  
Whose Heaven saluted Womb brought forth in One  
A blessed Saviour, and a blessed Son:  
O! what a ravishment'● had been to see  
Thy little Saviour perking on thy Knee!  
To see him nuzzel in thy Virgin-Breast:  
His milk-white Body all unclad, undressed!  
To see thy busy Fingers close and wrap  
His spreading limbs in thy indulgent Lap!  
To see his desperate Eyes, with childish grace  
Smiling upon his smiling Mother's face!  
And when his forward strength began to bloom,  
To see him diddle up and down the Room!  
O, who would think so sweet a Babe as this,  
Should e'er be slain by a falsehearted Kiss!  
Had I a Rag, if sure thy body wore it,  
Pardon, sweet Babe, I think, I should adore it:  
Till then, O grant this Boon (a Boon far-dearer)  
The Weed not being, I may adore the wearer.   

On the Young man in the Gospel.  
HOw well our Saviour and the landed Youth  
Agreed a little while? And, to say truth,  
Had he had will and power in his hand,  
To keep the Law, but as he kept his Land;  
No doubt, his Soul had found the sweet fruition  
Of his own choice desires without petition:  
But he must Sell and Follow, or else not  
Obtain his Heaven; O now, his Heaven's too hot;  
He cannot stay, he has no business there:  
He'll rather miss, than buy his Heaven to dear:  
When broth's too hot for hasty Hounds, how they  
Will lick their scalded lips, and sneak away!   

On Peter's Cock.  
THe Cock crowed once; and Peter's careless ear  
Could hear it, but his eye not spend a tear:  
●he Cock crowed twice, Peter began to creep  
●o th' Fire side, but Peter could not weep:  
●he Cock crowed thrice, Our Saviour turned about  
●nd look on Peter, now his tears burst out.  
'Twas not the Cock, it was our Saviour's Eye,  
Till he shall give us tears, we cannot cry.   

On the Penny.  
HE that endured the tyranny of Heat,  
The Morning sorrow, and the Mid-day-swea●,  
The Evening toil, and burden of the day,  
Had but his promised Penny for his pay:  
Others, that loitered all the Morning, stood  
I'th' Idle Market, whose unpractised blood  
Scarce felt the warmth of labour, nor could show  
A blush of action: had his penny too:  
What Wages can we merit, as our own:  
Slaves that are bought with price can challenge none,  
But only Stripes: alas, if Servants could  
Do more, than bid, they do but what they should:  
When man endeavours, and when Heaven engages  
Himself by Promise, they are Gifts, not Wages,  
He must expect: we must not look t' obtain  
Because we Run: nor do we run in vain.  
Our running shows the effect, produces none:  
The Penny's given alike to every one  
That works i'th' Vineyard; Equal price was shared  
T'unequal Workers; therefore no Reward:  
Lord, set my hands a-work; I will not serve  
For Wages, lest thou give what I deserve.   

On Ananias.  
THe Land was his, the Land was his alone  
'Twas told, and now the money was his own▪  
The Power remained in the Possessors hand  
To keep his money, or have kept his land:  
But once devoted to the Churches good,  
And then concealed, it cost his life, his blood.  
If those that give may not resume again,  
Without a Punishment, without a Sin  
What shall become of those whose unjust power  
Despoils the widowed Temple of her Dower?  
Who takes her profits, and instead of giving  
Increase to her revenues, makes a living  
Upon her ruins, growing plump and full  
Upon her wants, being clothed in her Wool:  
While she sustains th' extremes of cold and hunger,  
To pamper up the fat Advowson-munger;  
To thrust their Fleshhooks, and their thirsty Pot,  
And only leave her, what they value not,  
And whilst her sacred Priests that daily tread  
Their slighted Corn, must beg their early B●ead;  
Or else, be forced to purchase easy shar●●  
With that dear pri●e of their ungranted Prayers:  
Let such turn back their Sacrilegious eyes,  
And see how breathless Ananias ●●es,  
Behold the Wag●● that his s●n procures,  
That was a Molehill, to these Al●s of yours:  
He took it from the Church, did but con●eal  
Some parts he gave: But your false singers steal  
Her main Inheritance, her own Possession:  
His was but ●are deceit, yours bold Oppression:  
O, if no less than the first death was due  
To him, what death d'ye thinks prepared for you?  
So often as your pampered eyes sh●ll look  
On your Estates, think on the Flying-Book.    

There is Newly Published Fifteen extraordinary pleasant and useful Books, which are to be sold by John Dunton at the black Raven at the corner of Prince's street near the Royal Exchange, London.  
[1.] A Very delightful New-year's Gift, entitled Heavenly Pastime, or pleasant Observations on all the most remarkable passages throughout the Holy Bible of the Old and New Testament, newly Allegorized in several pleasant Dialogues, Poems, Similitudes, Paraphrases, and Divine Fancies, To which is added: (1) The Miraculous manner of the production of our Old Grandmother Eve, with the supposed manner of Adam's first Nuptial Addresses to her, with the pleasant circumstances of their Marriage. (2) You have an account of Eves first Addresses to Adam, and her Industry in making a Garment for her Husband. (3) You have a pleasant account of Adam and Eves Winter Suits, their lodging and first building, with an account in what pretty manner they first invented a Fire to warm them. (4) You have abundance of supposed Dialogues, very full of delightful reading, The first is between Adam and Eve, and Eve and the Serpent, the second Dialogue is between Cain and Abel, Monster Sin and Conscience: 3. Between Abraham and Sara● upon her laughing at the thoughts of her bearing Children in her old Age. 4. Between Abraham and hi● dear and only Son Isaac before his Father went to offer him up as a Sacrifice. 5. Between Isaac and Rebe●●a at their first meeting. 6. Between jacob and Rachel, upon his being willing to serve fourteen years to obtain her ●ove. (5) A wonderful Account how Pharaoh and all his Host were drowned in the Red Sea. (6) A Dialogue between Grim Death and the ●lying Minutes. (7) Between Balaam and his Ass. (8) The Triumphs of Chastity, or a Dialogue between joseph and his Mistress upon her tempting of him to uncleanness. (9) A Dialogue between the wanton Harlot and the Debauched Youth. (10) A Dialogue between Samson and his beloved Dalilah (11) Between Ruth and Naomi upon these words, Nothing but Death shall part thee and me. (12) Between David and Goliath upon their first encounter (13) Between jonathan and David including all the sweets of an entire friendship. (14) Between David, Vriah, and Bathsheba. (15) A choice Dialogue fancied between King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, about the wonderful works of God throughout the whole Creation; to which is added the glory and splendour of King Solomon's Court, together with the Queen of Sheba's glorious progress to it. (16) A Dialogue between jehu and wanton jezabel. (17) Haman on the Gallows, or a Dialogue between Haman and Mordecai. (18) Between Adonibezeck and one of the sixty Kings he tormented under his Table, supposed to be in the other world. (19) A Dialogue between job and his Wife (20) Between Isaiah and Hezekiah relating to the fifteen years that was added to his Life. (21) A Dialogue between Nabuchadnezzar and the three Children, called Shadrack, Mesheck, and Abednego, that were cast into the fiery Furnace. (22) Between Darius and Daniel, when he was cast into a Den, to be devoured by roaring Lions. (23) Between jonah and the Mariners in the Storm before he was swallowed up alive by a Whale. (24) Between Zacharias and Elizabeth. (25) A fancied Dialogue between ri●h Dives and poor ragged Lazarus. (26) A very affectionate Dialogue between the returning Prodigal and his loving Father, together with choice Meditations upon our Saviour's great compassion to the Converted Thief upon the Cross. (27) A Dialogue between judas and the Highpriest about betraying of Christ, together with Iudas' doleful desspair. (28) Between Nicodemus and the deceitful World, wherein the World promises glorious matters. (29) A Dialogue between Pilate and his Wife after he had condemned our Blessed Saviour. (30) A choice Dialogue between jairus and his Daughter after her being raised from the dead, representing what ravishing sights probably her Soul might behold during all the time her Body lay dead in the Grave, (31) A memento to Hypocrites, or a Dialogue between Ananias and Saphira. (32) A strange Dialogue between the Devil and Simon Magus, (33) Between the dispossessed Damosel and her Master, when Paul and Silas were by a Miracle released out of Prison, (54) Useful Meditations upon Eutichus▪ falling down dead, sleeping at a Sermon. (35) An awakening Dialogue between the Mariners after St. Paul's Shipwreck: With above fifty extraordinary pleasant Dialogues and Poems besides. By john Dunton Author of the Sick-man's Passing-bell. Price Bound two Shillings and six pence.  
[2.] The Complete Tradesman, or The Exact Dealers daily Companion, Instructing him thoroughly in all things absolutely necessary to 〈…〉 all those who would thrive in the 〈…〉 in the whole Art and Mystery of Trad● 〈…〉 and will be of constant use for all 〈…〉 whole-sale-men, Shop keepers, Retailers▪ Yo●●g Tradesmen▪ Country Chapmen, Industrious Y●o●en, Traders in petty Villages, and all Farmers, and others tha● go to Countrey-Fairs and Markets, and for all me● whatsoever that be of any Trade, or have any considerable Dealings in the World. Written by N. H. Merchant in the City of London. The Third Edition with large Additions, wherein is now fully taught The pleasant and delightful Art of Money-Catching▪ Price Bond ● s.  
[3.] An Ingenious Discourse against Naked Breast and Shoulders, Patches, Painted Faces, and Long Perriwiggs: By Mr. jay Rector of Chinner in Oxfordshire. Price Bound, 1 s.  
[4.] A Con●iuation of Morning Exercise Ques●i●ns and Cases of Conscience, practically resolved by 31 Reverend Divines in the City of London, October 1682. Some of the Cases in this Exercise are as follows: 1. How may we Experience it in ourselves, and Evidence it to others, that serious Godliness is more than a Fancy? 2. What may most hopefully ●e attempted to allay animosities amongst Protestant's, that our Divisions may not be our Ruin? 3. How may we best cure the love of being flattered? 4. What are the best Preservatives against Melancholy and overmuch Sorrows? 5. How may our belief of God's governing the whole World support us in all worldly distractions whatsoever? 6. Wherein is a middle worldly condition most eligible. 7. How may we improve those Doctrines and Providences that transcend our understanding. 8. How ought we to do our Duties towards others though they do not theirs towards us? 9 What distance ought we to keep in following the strange and ridiculous Fashions of apparel which came up in the Days wherein we live. 10. How may Child bearing Women be most encouraged and supported against, in, and under, the hazard of their Travel With 21 most excellent choice cases of Conscience more, which I have not room here to insert. Price bound, 8 s.  
[5.] The Pilgrims Guide from the Cradle to his Deathbed, with his glorious passage from then●e to the New jerusalem, represented to the L●●● in a Delightful New Allegory, wherein the Christian traveller's ●s more fully and plainly directed than yet ever he ●ath been by any in the right and nearest ●ay to the Celestial Paradise, to which is added the Sick man's Passing-Bell, together with the Customs of several Nations in the burial of their dead, with no less ●han 50 several pleasant Treatises besides, rarely if ever handled b●fore, all of them being distinctly useful, and will afford the Reader extraordinary Pleasure and Delight in the perusal, if ei●her Profi● or Novelty will do it: To these are annexed, (1.) An awakening Dialogue between the Soul and ●ody of a Damned ●an, ●ach laying the fault upon the other, fancied in a Morning Dream: In which Dialogue the Speakers are, the Author, a Soul lately departed, a dead Carcase, and lastly the Devils. (2.) An impartial Treatise concerning Devils, Apparitions, Spectres, Phantasms, Pharies, Familiar Spirits, Goblins, Hags, Witches and their Imps; Wizards and Witchcraft (with the manner how Persons become Witches) of Conjurors, Impostors, places haunted, and of the Ghosts of Persons walking after they have been buried a long time in their Graves; together with two real Dialogues that passed between the Devil and two famous Divines. And lastly is added the Sighs and Groans of a dying Man: Written by john Dunton, late Rector of Aston Clinton. The whole Work is illustrated with eight curious Copper Plates▪ Price Bound 2 s.  
[6.] The Travels of true Godliness, from the beginning of the World to this present day, in an apt and pleasant Allegory, showing the Troubles, Oppositions, Reproaches, and Persecutions, he hath met with in every Age: Together with the danger he seems to be in at this present time, by Vice, Papistry, and other grand Enemies, also where he makes hi● last and final abode. The Second Edition, to which is now added five lively Cu●s, together with ●ue Godlines' Voyage to Sea, with many new Additions besides. By B. Keach, Author of the War with the Devil. Price Bound. 1 s.  
7. The Progress of ● in, or the Travels of Ungodliness, from the beginning of the World, to this present▪ Day; in an apt and pleasant Allegory. Wherein you have an account of his cunning and roguish Sub●●●●ties ●nd hateful Villainies: Together with the wonderful Victories he hath obtained, and abominable Mischiefs he hath done to Mankind, by the help of the Devil, in all his Travels. As also, how a great Hue and Cry was sent after him, to search for him in those Houses where he was used to lodge in his Travels; with a remarkable Account of his Apprehension, Arraignment, Trial, Condemnation, and Execution, etc. In which Trial, Old Father Adam, the whole Creation, and the Lady Grace, with her three Beautiful Daughters, were subpoena'd as Witnesses of Ungodliness; who all appearing in Court, and their Evidence being strong and clear (after a full hearing of all Vmgodliness had to say for himself, why Sentence should not pass upon him) the jury brought him in Guilty; upon which a Quaker, with his hat on, stood up in open Court, and pleaded hugely for a Pardon for him; but it would not be granted. In the First Chapter, you have an an Account, how the Devil gave Ungodliness a Commission to travel all the World over; with the base Retinue that doth accompany him, and the great success he had in his first Enterprise. The Second Chapter shows, how Ungodliness came into a Country called Nonage; and of the strange projects he played there. With a pleasant account of some little Bantlings▪ that (to to their eternal Renown be it spoken) were too hard for him. Upon which in the Fourth Chapter he sneaks into Youthshire, where one pious Youth (a●ove all the rest) made up to him, and cuffed him so briskly, that he was forced to cry out, Quarter, Quar●er, Quarter, but being rescued at last by some ●oor Plow-jobbers of the Country (after he had recovered Breath) he Travels in the Fifth Chapter, ●long with the Father of Hell and Damnation, into a ●ast Country, and City, called Sensuality. With the manner how three poor honest men made there e●●●pe out of the said City and Country. The Sixth Chapter shows, how Ungodliness came huffing aga●●● a little Town called Religion, or Mount Zion, with ● great Army of mixed People, and besieged it. Wit● the huge and bloody Battle he fought there. The Seventh Chapter shows, how Godliness and Ungodliness happened to meet each other in their Travels upon the Road: With the various Discourses that passed between them: With the manner of their parting. The Eight Chapter shows, how Ungodliness traveled into the great City Babylon; and from thence into a great Country of Commerce, that stands by a small Village called Morality, with the mad Tricks he played there among the Tradesmen and Citizens Wives, etc. With abundance of more Heads; and a lively Cut. Written by B. K. Author of the Travels of true Godliness.  
[8] The English Rogue complete in four parts, wherein you have a discovery of the Knavery of all Trades in the City of London, Illustrated with several Copper Plates, Price Bound 8 s.  
[9] A Famous and Impartial History in large Folio, written by the Learned Doctor Frankland, entitled the Annals of King james and King Charles the first, wherein you have a full and large account of the great Affairs of State, and the Transactions in England for several years, wherein several material Passages relating to the late Civil Wars omitted in all former Histories are now made known, Price Bound 18 s.  
[10.] The Key to the Holy Bible, unlocking th● Richest Treasure of the Holy Scriptures, whereby the (1) Order (2) Names, (3) Times, (4) Penmen, (5) Occasion, (6) Scope, And 7. Principal parts, containing the Subject matter of the Books of the Old and New Testament, are familiarly and briefly opened for the help of the Weakest Capacity in the understanding of the Whole Bible. A Book very useful for all Christian Families. The fourth Edition diligently revised, Written by Francis Roberts, D. D. Price Bound 12 s.  
[11] A Ravishing glimpse of the Crown of Glory, wherein the Christians Portion, or the unseen Beauties of the other World are fully asserted and proved (serving as a Cordial to the Heaven●● Traveller in his way to Paradise) together with several choice Funeral Sermons occasionally preached, and now published by Samuel Willard an eminent Minister o● the Gospel at B●ston in New England. Price Bound, 1 s. and 6 d.  
[12. Mr. Hows Sermon at the Funeral of that faithful and laborious Servant of Christ▪ Mr. Richard Fair●●●ugh (late of Bristol) who deceased july the 4th. 1682. in the 61 year of his Age. price 6 d.  
[13.] A choice Pattern for all Young P●rs●ns of either Sex, ●isplay●d ●o the Life in a Ser●on preached by Mr. 〈…〉 D●●th of a ●oun● Pious Gentlewoman Mrs. 〈…〉, Daughter of Mr. Nathaniel 〈…〉 late of Hackney, together with her 〈…〉 and Death, price 6 d.  
[14] The Pilgrims 〈◊〉 in a Dream: by I●hn Bunian. Price 1 s.  
[15.] The Life and Death 〈…〉, with large Additions. Price 8. d. Together with all manner of ●a●eable Chapman's Books.  
¶ Likewise some of the most Delightful Histories that ever were yet extant, are to be sold by john Dunton at the Black Raven at the Corner of Prin●es-●●reet near the ROYAL EXCHANGE in Lon done, together with all manner of good, pleasant, and practical English Books.  
¶ Note, that whosoever buys a complete set of all those fifteen books mentioned in this Bill, shall be used very kindly for them all together.  
FINIS.