OCCASIONAL Meditations. BY IOS: EXON. Setforth by R. H. The second Edition.  
LONDON. Printed by W. S. for Nath. Butter. 1631.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, My very good Lord, JAMES Lord Viscount Doncaster.  
RIGHT HON:  
FInding these Papers amongst others lying aside in my Father's study, whereof I conceived good use might be made, in regard of that Spiritual advantage which they promised; I obtained of him good leave to send them abroad, whereto he professed himself the more easily induced, for that his continual and weighty employments in this large and busy Diocese will not yet afford him leisure to dispatch those his other fixed Meditations on the History of the new Testament; In the mean time, the expressions of these voluntary and sudden thoughts of his, shall testify how fruitfully he is wont to improve those short ends of time, which are stolen from his more important avocations; and (unless my hopes fail me) the Pattern of them may prove not a little beneficial to others. Holy minds have been ever wont to look through these bodily objects, at spiritual, and heavenly; So SULPITIUS reports of S. MARTIN, that seeing a Sheep newly shorn, he could say; Lo here's one that hath performed that command in the Gospel; having two Coats she hath given away one, & seeing an Hogheard freezing in a thin suit of skins; Lo (said he) There is Adam cast out of Paradise, and seeing a meadow, part rooted up, part whole; but eaten down; and part flourishing, he said, The first was the state of Fornication, the second of Marriage, the third of Virginity: But what do I seek any other author, than the Lord of Life himself? Who upon the drawing of water from the well of SHILO, on the day of the great Hosanna, took occasion to speak of those Living waters, which should flow from every true believer, john 7. 37; and upon occasion of a bodily feast▪ Luke 14. entered into that Divine discourse of God's gracious invitation of us to those Spiritual viands of grace and glory. Thus, me thinks, we should still be climbing up in our thoughts, from Earth to Heaven; and suffer no object to cross us in our way without some Spiritual use, and application; Thus it pleased my Reverend Father sometimes to recreate himself, whose manner hath been, when any of these Meditations have unsought offered themselves unto him, presently to se● them down; a course which I wish had been also taken in many more, which might no doubt have been very profitable.  
These, as they are, I send forth under your Honourable Name, out of those many respects, which are, in an hereditary right, due to your Lordship, as being apparent heir to those two singular Patrons of my justly Reverenced Father, The eminent virtue of which your noble Parents in a gracious Succession yields to your Lordship an happy example; which to follow is the only way to true Honour; For the daily increase whereof here; and the everlasting crown of it hereafter, his prayers to God shall not be wanting, who desires to be accounted.  
Your Lordship devoted in all homble observance, RO: HALL..   

OCCASIONAL MEDITATIONS.  
The Proem.  
I Have heedlessly lost (I confess) many good thoughts, these few my Paper hath perserved from vanishing; The example whereof may prehaps be more useful than the matter; Our active Soul can no more forbear to think, than the Eye can choose but see, when it is open; would we but keep our wholesome notions together, Mankind would be too rich; To do well, no object should pass us without use, Every thing that we see, reads us new lectures of Wisdom, and Piety; It is a shame for a Man to be ignorant, or Godless, under so many Tutors. For me, I would not wish to live longer, than I shall be better for my eyes; and have thought it thankworthy; thus to teach weak minds, how to improve their thoughts, upon all like occasions. And if ever these lines shall come to the public view, I desire, and charge my Reader, whosoever he be, to make me, and himself so happy, as to take out my lesson; and to learn how to read GOD'S great Book, by mine.   

OCCASIONAL MEDITATIONS.  

I.  
Upon the sight of the Heavens moving.  
I Can see nothing stand still but the Earth; all other things are in motion; Even that Water which makes up one Globe with the Earth, is ever stirring in ebbs and flow; the clouds over my head, the Heavens above the clouds; these, as they are most conspicuous, so are they the greatest patterns of perpetual action; what should we rather imitate then this glorious frame? O God when we pray that thy will may be done in Earth, as it is in heaven, though we mean chiefly the inhabitants of that place, yet we do not exclude the very place of those blessed inhabitants, from being an example of our Obedience. The motion of this thy Heaven is perpetual, so let me ever be acting so mewhat of thy will; the motion of thine Heaven is regular, never swerving from the due points; so let me ever walk steadily in the ways of thy will; without all diversions, or variations from the line of thy Law; In the motion of thine Heaven, though some Stars have the●● own peculiar, and contrary courses, yet a● yield themselves to the sway of the main circumvolution of that first mover; so, though I have a will of mine own, yet let me give myself over to be ruled, and ordered by thy Spirit in all my ways;  
Man is a little world; my Soul is heaven, my Body is earth; if this earth be dull and fixed, yet O God, let my heaven (like unto thine) move perpetually, regularly, and in a constant subjection to thine holy Ghost.   

II.  
Upon the sight of a Dial.  
IF the Sun did not shine upon this Dial, no body would look at it; in a cloudy day it stands like an useless post, unheeded, unregarded; But when once those beams break forth, every passenger runs to it, and gazes on it; O God, whiles thou hidest thy countenance from me, me thinks all thy Creatures pass by me, with a willing neglect; indeed, what am I, without thee? And if thou have drawn in me some lines, & notes of able endowments, yet, if I be not actuated by thy Grace, all is, in respect of use; no better than nothing: But, when thou renewest the light of thy loving countenance upon me, I find a sensible, and happy change of condition; me thinks, all things look upon me with such cheer, and observance, as if they meant to make good that Word of thine; Those that honour me, I will honour; now, every line and figure, which it hath pleased thee to work in me, serve for useful, and profitable direction; O Lord, all the glory is thine; give thou me light, I shall give others information; both of us shall give thee praise.   

III.  
Upon the sight of an Eclipse of the Sun.  
LIght is an ordinary and familiar blessing; yet so dear to us, that one hours' interception of it sets all the world in a wonder. The two great Luminaries of heaven, as they impart light to us, so they withdraw light from each other. The Sun darkens the full Moon, in casting the shadow of the Earth upon her opposed-face; The new Moon repays this blemish to the Sun, in the interposing of her dark body betwixt our eyes, and his glorious beams; the earth is troubled at both: O God, if we be so afflicted with the obscuring of some piece of one of thy created Lights, for an hour, or two; what a confusion shall it be, that thou, who art the God of these lights, (in comparison of whom they are mere darkness) shalt hide thy face from thy creature for ever? Oh thou that art the Sun of righteousness; if every of my sins cloud thy face; ye● let not my grievous sins eclipse thy light; Thou shinest always, though I do not see thee, but, oh, never suffer my sins so to darken thy visage that I cannot see thee.   

FOUR  
Upon the sight of a gliding Star.  
HOw easily is our sight deceived? How easily doth our sight deceive us? We saw no difference betwixt this Star and the rest; the light seemed alike, both whiles it stood, and whiles it fell; now, we know it was no other, than a base slimy meteor, guilded with the Sunbeams; and now, our foot can tread upon that, which ere while our eye admired; Had it been a Star, it had still, and ever shined; now, the very fall argues it a false and elementary apparition; Thus our Charity doth, and must misled us in our Spiritual judgements; if we see men exalted in their Christian profession, fixed in the upper region of the Church, shining with appearances of Grace; we may not think them other them stars, in this lower firmament; but, if they fall from their holy station, and embrace the present world; whether in judgement or practice, renouncing the Truth, and power of godliness; now we may boldly say, they had never any true light in them; and were no other than a glittering composition of Pride, and hypocrisy; O God, if my charity make me apt to be deceived by others, ●et me be sure not to deceive myself; perhaps, some of these apostating Stars have thought themselves true: let their miscarriage make me ●eedfull; Let the inward ●●ght of thy Grace more convince my truth to my ●elfe, than my outward profession can represent me glorious to others.   

V.  
Upon a fair Prospect.  
What a pleasing variety is here o● Towns, Rivers, Hills Dales, Woods, Meadows each of them striving t● set forth other; and al● of them to delight th● eye? So as this is no other than a natural; an● real Landscape drawn b● that Almighty, and ski●●full hand, in this table o● the Earth, for the pleasure of our view; no other creature besides Man is capable to apprehend this beauty; I shall do wrong to him that brought me hither, if I do not feed my eyes, and praise my Maker; It is the inter mixture, and change of these objects that yields this contentment both to the sense, and mind; But, there is a sight, O my Soul, that without all variety, offerres thee a truer and fuller delight; even this Heaven above thee: All thy other prospect ends in this; This glorious circumference ●ounds, and circles, and enlightens all that thine eye can see; whether thou look upward, or forward, or about thee, there thine eye alights, there let thy thoughts be fixed.  
One inch of this lightsome Firmament hath more beauty in it, than the whole face of the Earth; And yet, this is but the floor of that goodly fabric, the outward curtain of that glorious Tabernacle: Couldst thou but (Oh that thou couldst) look within that veil, how shouldst thou be ravished with that blissful sight? There, in that incomprehensible light, thou shouldst see him whom none can see, and not be blessed; thou shouldst see millions of pure and majestical Angels, of holy and glorified Souls: there, amongst thy Fathers many mansions thou shouldst take happy notice of thine own: Oh the best of earth, now vile and contemptible; Come down no more, O my Soul, after thou hast once pitched upon this heavenly glory; or if this flesh force thy descent, be unquiet till thou art let loose to immortality.   

VI  
Upon the frame of a Globe casually broken.  
IT is hard to say whether is the greater, Man's art, or Impotence; He that cannot make one spire of grass, or corn of sand, will yet be framing of Worlds; he can imitate all things, who can make nothing; here is a great world in a little room, by the skill of the workman, but in less room, by mis-accident; Had he seen this, who upon the view of Plato's Book of Commonwealth eaten with Mice, presaged the fatal miscarriage of the public State; he would sure have construed this casualty as ominous: What ever become of the material world, (whose decay might seem no less to stand with divine Providence, than this Microcosm of individual man) sure I am, the frame of the moral world is, and must be dis-jointed in the last times: Men do and will fall from evil to worse; He that hath made all times hath told us that the last shall be perilous; Happy is he that can stand upright, when the world declines; and can endeavour to repair the common ruin with a constancy in goodness.   

VII.  
Upon a Cloud.  
Whether it were a natural Cloud, wherewith our ascending Saviour was intercepted from the eyes of his Disciples, upon mount Olivet, I inquire not; this I am sure of; that the time now was, when a Cloud surpassed the Sun in glory; How did the intentive eyes of those ravished beholders envy that happy meteor; and since they could no more see that glorious Body, fixed themselves upon that celestial Chariot, wherewith it was carried up. The Angels could tell the gazing Disciples (to fetch them off from that astonishing prospect) that this JESUS should so come again, as they had seen him depart; He went up in a Clonud; and he shall come again in the clouds of heaven, to his last judgement; O Saviour, I cannot look upward, but I must see the sensible monuments; both of thine ascension, and return; let no cloud of Worldliness, or Infidelity hinder me from following thee in thine Ascension, or from expecting thee in thy return.   

VIII.  
Upon the sight of a Grave digged up.  
THe Earth, as it is a great devourer, so also it is a great preserver too: Liquors and Flesh's are therein long kept from putrifying; and are rather heightened in their Spirits by being buried in it; But above all, how safely doth it keep our bodies for the Resurrection; we are here but laid up for custody; Balms, and sere-clothes, and leads, cannot do so much as this lap of our common Mother; when all these are dissolved into her dust (as being unable to keep themselves from corruption) she receives and restores her charge: I can no more withhold my body from the earth; then the earth can withhold it from my Maker. O GOD, this is thy Cabinet or shrine, wherein ●hou pleasest to lay up ●he precious relics of ●hy dear Saints, until ●he jubilee of Glory; with what confidence should I commit myself to this sure reposition, whiles I know thy word just, thy Power infinite?   

IX.  
Upon the sight of Gold melted.  
THis Gold is both th● fairest, and most solid of all metals; yet 〈◊〉 the soon melted wit● the fire; others, as the● are courser, so more churlish, and hard to b● wrought upon by a dissolution; Thus, a sound an● good heart is most easi●● melted into sorrow and fear, by the sense of God's judgements; whereas the carnal mind is stubborn, and remorseless; All metals are but earth, yet some are of finer temper than others; All hearts are of flesh, yet some are, through the power of grace, more capable of Spiritual apprehensions: O GOD, we are such as thou wilt be pleased to make us: Give me an heart that may be sound for the truth of Grace, and melting at the terrors of thy Law; I can be for no other, than thy Sanctuary on earth, or thy Treasury of heaven.   

X.  
Upon the sight of a Pitcher carried.  
THus those that are great, and weak, are carried by the ears up and down of Flatterers, and Parasites; Thus ignorant and simple hearers are carried by false and mis-zealous teachers, yet, to be carried by both ears is more safe, then be carried by one; It argues an empty pitcher to be carried by one alone; such are they that upon the hearing of one-part, rashly pass their sentence, whether of acquiall, or censure.  
In all disquisitions of ●idden Truths, a wise man will be led by the ●ares, not carried; that ●●plies a violence of passion over-swaying judgement; but in matter of ●uill and occurrence, and unconcerning rumour, it is good to use the Ear, not to trust to it:   

XI.  
Upon the sight of Tree f●●● blossomed.  
Here is a Tree over laid with blossoms it is not possible that a● these should prospe● one of them must need● rob the other of moisture, and growth; I do not love to see an Infancy over-hopefull; 〈◊〉 these pregnant beginnings one faculty staru● another, and, at last, leau● the mind sapless, an● barren; as therefore w● are wont to pull off som● of the too-frequent blossoms, that the rest ma● thrive, So, it is good wisdom to moderate the early excess of the parts, or progress of overforward childhood. Neither is it otherwise in our Christian profession; a sudden and lavish ostentation of grace may fill the eye with wonder, and the mouth with talk, but will not, at the last, fill the lap with fruit.  
Let me not promise too much, nor raise too high expectations of my undertake; I had rather men should complain of my small hopes, then of my short performances.   

XII.  
Upon the report of a Man suddenly struck dead in his Sin.  
I Cannot but magnify the justice of GOD, but withal I must praise his Mercy; It were woe with any of us all, if GOD should take us at advantages; Alas, which of us hath not committed sins worthy of a present revenge; had we been also surprised in those acts, where had we been? Oh GOD, it is more than thou owest us, that thou hast waited for our repentance; It is no more than thou owest us, that thou plaguest our offences; The wages of sin is Death; and it is but justice to pay due wages: Blessed be thy justice that hast made others examples to me: Blessed be: thy Mercy, that hast not made me an example unto others. * ⁎ *   

XIII.  
Upon the view of the Heaven and the earth.  
What a strange contrariety is here? The Heaven is in continual motion, and yet there is the only place of rest; the Earth ever stands still, and yet here is nothing but unrest and unquietness; Surely, the end of that heavenly motion is for the benefit of the Earth; and the end of all these earthly turmoils is our reposall in heaven; Those that have imagined the earth to turn about, and the heavens to stand still; have yet supposed that we may stand, or sit still, on that whirling Globe of earth: how much more may we be persuaded of our perfect rest above those moving Spheres? It matters not, O GOD, how I am vexed here below a while; if, ere long, I may repose with thee above, for ever.   

XIIII.  
Upon occasion of a Redbre●● coming into his Chamber.  
PRetty bird, how cheerfully dost thou sit an● sing, and yet knowest n●● where thou art, nor whe●● thou shalt make thy ne●● meal; and, at night must shroud thyself in 〈◊〉 bush, for lodging; Wh●● a shame is it for me, th●● see before me so liberal provisions of my GOD and find myself s● warm under my ow● roof, yet am ready 〈◊〉 droop under a distrustful, and unthankful du●●nesse. Had I so little certainty of my harbour and purveyance, how heartless should I be, how careful; how little list should I have to make music to thee or myself; Surely, thou, camest not hither without a providence, GOD sent thee not so much to delight, as to shame me, but all in a conviction of my sullen unbelief; who under more apparent means, ●m less cheerful, and confident, Reason and ●aith have not done so much in me, as in thee, here instinct of nature; want of foresight makes he more merry, if not more happy here, than the foresight of better things maketh me.  
O God, thy providence is not impaired by those Powers thou hast given me above these brute things; Let not my greater helps hinder me from an holy security, and comfortable reliance upon thee.   

XV.  
Upon occasion of a Spider i● his Window.  
THere is no vice i● man, whereof ther● is not some analogy i● the brute Creatures: 〈◊〉 amongst us Men, there are thieves by land, and Pirates by sea, that live by spoil and blood; so is there in every kind amongst them variety of natural Sharkers; the Hawk in the air, the Pike in the river, the Whale in the sea, the Lion, and Tiger, and Wolf in the desert, the Wasp in the hive, the Spider in our window. Amongst the rest, see how cunningly this little Arabian hath spread out his tent, for a prey; how heedfully he watches for a Passenger; so soon as ever he hears the noise of a Fly a far off, how he hastens to his door, and if that silly heedless. Traveller do but touch upon the verge of that unsuspected walk, how suddenly doth he seize upon the miserable booty; and after some strife, binding him fast with those subtle cords, drags the helpless captive after him into his cave. What is this but an Emblem of those Spiritual freebooters, that lie in wait for our souls: They are the Spiders, we the Flies; they have spread their nets of sin, if we be once caught, they bind us fast, and hale us into Hell.  
Oh LORD, deliver thou my soul from their crafty ambushes; their poison is greater, their webs both more strong, and more insensibly woven; Either teach me to avoid tentation, or make me to break through it by Repentance; Oh let me not be a prey to those fiends that lie in wait for my destruction.   

XVI.  
Upon the sight of a Rain in the Sunshine.  
Such is my best condition in this life, If the Sun of GOD'S countenance shine upon me, I may well be content to be wet with some rain of Affliction; How oft have I seen the Heaven overcast with clouds and tempest; no Sun appearing to comfort me; yet even those gloomy and stormy seasons have I rid out patiently, only with the help of the common-light of the day, at last, those beams have broken forth happily, and cheered my Soul; It is well for my ordinary state, if through the mists of my own dulness, and Satan's tentations, I can descry some glimpse of heavenly comfort; let me never hope, whiles I am in this Veil, to see the clear face of that Sun without a shower: such happiness is reserved for above; that upper region of glory is free from these doubtful and miserable vicissitudes. There, O GOD we shall see as we are seen. Light is sown for the Righeous, and joy for the upright in heart.   

XVII.  
Upon the Length of the way.  
HOw far off is yonder great Mountain? My very eye is weary with the foresight of so great a distance; yet time and patience shall overcome it; this night we shall hope to lodge beyond it; Some things are more tedious in their expectation, then in their performance. The comfort is, that every step I take, sets me nearer to my end; When I once come there, I shall both forget how long it now seems, and please myself to look back upon the way that I have measured.  
It is thus in our passage to Heaven; my weak nature is ready to faint under the very conceit of the length, and difficulty of this journey; my eye doth not more guide, then discourage me; Many steps of Grace, and true obedience, shall bring me insensibly thither; Only, let me move, and hope; and GOD'S good leisure shall perfect my Salvation. O Lord, give me to possess my Soul with patience, and not so much to regard speed, as certainty; When I come to the top of thine holy hill, all these weary paces, and deep sloughs shall either be forgotten, or contribute to my happiness in their remembrance.   

XVIII.  
Upon the Rain and Waters.  
What a sensible interchange there is, in Nature, betwixt union, and division; Many vapours rising from the sea, meet together in one cloud; that cloud falls down divided, into several drops; those drops run together, and in many rills of water, meet in the same channels; those channels run into the brook, those brooks into the rivers, those rivers into the Sea; one receptacle is for all, though a large one; and all make back to their first, and main original: So it either is, or should be with Spiritual gifts; O GOD, thou distillest thy Graces upon us, not for our reservation, but conveyance; those manifold faculties thou lettest fall upon several Men thou wouldst not have drenched up, where they light; but wouldst have derived, through the channels of their special vocations, into the common streams of public Use, for Church, or Commonwealth; Take back, O Lord, those few drops thou hast rained upon my soul, and return them into that great Ocean of the Glory of thine own bounty, from whence they had their beginning. * ⁎ *   

XIX.  
Upon the same Subject.  
MAny drops fill the Channels, and many Channels swell up the brooks, and many brooks raise the Rivers, over the banks; the brooks are not out, till the channels be empty; the rivers rise not, whiles the small brooks are full; but when the little rivulets have once voided themselves into the main streams, than all is overflown. Great matters arise from small beginnings; Many littles make up a large bulk; Yea what is the World but a composition of atoms. We have seen i● thus in civil estates; th●● impairing of the Commons hath oft been th● raising of the great; their streams have run low● till they have been heightened by the confluence of many private inlets▪ Many a mean channel hath been emptied, to make up their inundation; Neither is it otherwise in my, whether outward, or spiritual condition: O GOD, tho● hast multiplied my drop● into streams, As out o● many minutes thou ha●● made up my age, so out o● many lessons thou hast made up my competency of knowledge; thou hast drained many benificent friends to make me competently rich. By many holy motions, thou hast wrought me to some measure of Grace:  
Oh, teach me, wisely and moderately to enjoy thy bounty; and to reduce thy streams into thy drops, and thy drops into thy clouds, humbly, and thankfully acknowledging whence, and how, I have all that I have, all that I am:   

XX.  
Upon occasion of the lights brought in.  
What a change there is in the room, since the light came in▪ yea in ourselves? All things seem to have a new form, a new life; yea, we are not the same we were: How goodly a creature is light, how pleasing, how agreeable to the spirits of man? no visible thing comes so near to the resembling of the nature of the soul, yea of the God that made it; As contrarily, what an uncomfortable thing is darkness; in so much as we punish the greatest malefactors with obscurity of Dungeons; as thinking they could not be miserable enough, if they might have the privilege of beholding the light; yea, hell itself can be no more horribly described then by outward darkness:  
What is darkness but absence of light? The pleasure, or the horror of light, or darkness is according to the quality and degree of the cause, whence it ariseth; And if the light of a poor candle be so comfortable, which is nothing but a little inflamed air, gathered about a moistened snuff, what is the light of the glorious Sun, the great lamp of Heaven? But much more, what is the light of that infinitely-resplendent Sun of righteousness, who gave that light to the Sun, that Sun to the world; And, if this partial, and imperfect darkness be so doleful, (which is th● privation of a natural o● artificial light) how unconceivable, dolorous and miserable, shall tha● be, which is caused through the utter absence of the all-glorious GOD▪ who is the Father o● lights? O Lord, how justly do we pity those wretched Souls, that sit in darkness and the shadow of death, shut up from the light of the saving knowledge of thee, the only true God; But, how am I swallowed up with horror, to think of the fearful condition of those damned souls, that are for ever shut out from the presence of GOD, and adjudged to exquisite and everlasting darkness. The Egyptians were weary of themselves, in their three days darkness, yet we do not find any pain that accompanied their continuing night; What shall we say to those woeful souls; in whom the sensible presence of infinite torment shall meet with the torment of the perpetual absence of GOD? O thou, who art the true light, shine ever▪ through all the blind corners of my Soul; and from these weak glimmerings of Grace, bring me to the perfect brightness of thy Glory. * ⁎ *   

XXI.  
Upon the same Occasion.  
AS well as we love the light, we are wont to salute it, at the first coming in, with winking, or closed eyes; as not abiding to see that; without which we cannot see. All sudden changes (though to the better) have a kind of trouble attending them; By how much more excellent any object is, by so much more is our weak sense mis-affected in the first apprehending of it: O LORD, if thou shouldst manifest thy glorious presence to us here, we should be confounded in the sight of it; How wisely, how mercifully hast thou reserved that for our glorified estate; where no infirmity shall dazzle our eyes; where perfect Righteousness, shall give as perfect boldness, both of sight, and fruition.   

XXII.  
Upon the blowing of the Fire.  
We beat back the flame, not with a purpose to suppress it but to raise it higher, and to diffuse it more; Those afflictions, and repulses which seem to be discouragements, are indeed the merciful incitements of grace. If GOD did mean judgement to my Soul, he would either withdraw the fuel, or pour water upon the fire, or suffer it to languish for want of new motions; but now, that he continues to me the means, and opportunities, and desires of good, I shall misconstrue the intentions of my GOD, if I shall think his crosses sent rather to damp, then to quicken his Spirit in me.  
O GOD, if thy bellowes did not sometimes thus breath upon me, in spiritual repercussions, I should have just cause to suspect my estate; Those few weak gleeds of Grace that are in me, might soon go out, if they were not thus refreshed; still blow upon them, till they kindle; still kindle them, till they flame up to thee.   

XXIII.  
Upon the barking of a Dog.  
What have I done to this Dog, that he follows me with this angry clamour? Had I rated him, or shaken my staff, or stooped down for a stone, I had justly drawn on this noise; this snarling importunity. But, why, do I wonder to find this unquiet disposition in a bruit creature, when it is no news with the reasonable.  
Have I not seen innocence, and merit bayed at by the quarrelsome, and envious vulgar, without any provocation save of good offices? Have I not felt (more than their tongue,) their teeth, upon my heels, when I know, I have deserved nothing, but fawning on? Where is my grace, or spirits, if I have not learned to contemn both?  
O GOD, let me rather dye then willingly incur thy displeasure; yea, then justly offend thy godly-wise, judicious, conscionable servants; but if humour or faction, or causeless prejudice fall upon me; for my faithful service to thee; Let these bawling currestyre themselves, and tear their throats, with loud, and false censures, I go on in a silent constancy, and if my ear be beaten, yet my heart shall be free.   

XXIIII.  
Upon sight of a Cock fight.  
HOw fell these Creatures out? Whence grew this so bloody combat? here was neither old grudge, nor present injury. What then is the quarrel? Surely nothing but that which should rather unite, and reconcile them; one common Nature; the are both of one feather. I do not see either of them fly upon Creatures of different kinds; but whiles they have peace with all others, they are at war with themselves; the very sight of each other was sufficient provocation. If this be the offence, why doth not each of them fall out with himself, since he hates, and revenges in another, the being of that same which himself is?  
Since Man's sin brought Debate into the World, nature is become a great quarrel.  
The seeds of discord were scattered in every furrow of the Creation, and came up in a numberless variety of antipathies, whereof yet none is more odious, and deplorable, than those which are betwixt creatures of the same kind. What is this but an image of that woeful hostility which is exercised betwixt us resonables, who are conjoined in one common humanity, if not, Religion?  
We fight with, and destroy each other, more than those creatures that want reason to temper their passions: No beast is so cruel to man, as himself; where one man is slain by a beast, ten thousand are slain by man. What is that war which we study and practise, but the art of killing? What ever Turks and Pagans may do, O Lord how long shall, this brutish fury arm christian's against each other? Whiles even devils are not at enmity with themselves, but accord in wickedness, why do we men so mortally oppose each other in good?  
Oh thou, that art the GOD of Peace, compose the unquiet hearts of men, to an happy and universal Concord, and at last refresh out Souls with the multitude of Peace.   

XXV.  
Upon his lying down to rest.  
WHat a circle there is of humane actions, and events? We are never without some change, and yet that change is without any great variety; we sleep, and wake, and wake and sleep; and eat and evacuate and recreate, and labour in a continual interchange, yet hath the infinite wisdom of God, so ordered it, that we are not weary of these perpetual iterations, but with no less appetite enter into our daily courses, then if we should pass them but once in our life. When I am weary of my day's labour, how willingly do I undress myself, and betake myself to my bed; and ere Morning, when I have wearied my restless bed, how glad am I to rise and renew my labour?  
Why am I not more desirous to be unclothed of this body, that I may be clothed upon with Immortality? What is this but my closest garment, which when it is once put off, my Soul is at liberty and ease. Many a time have I lain down here in desire of rest, and after some tedious changing of sides, have risen sleepless, disappointed, languishing in my last uncasing, my body shall not fail of repose, nor my Soul of joy; and in my rising up, neither of them shall fail of Glory; What hinders me, O GOD, but my infidelity from longing for this happy dissolution? The world hath misery and toil enough, and Heaven hath more than enough blessedness to perfect my desires of that my last and glorious change. I believe, Lord, help my unbelief?   

XXVI.  
Upon the kindling of a Charcoal fire.  
THere are not many Creatures but do naturally affect to diffuse and enlarge themselves; Fire and Water will neither of them rest contented with their own bounds; those little sparks that I see in those coals, how they spread, and enkindle their next brands; It is thus morally both in good, and evil; either of them dilates itself, to their Neighbourhood; but especially this is so much more apparent in evil, by how much we are more apt to take it. Let but some spark of heretical opinion be let fall upon some unstable, proud, busy spirit, it catcheth instantly; and fires the next capable subject; they two have easily inflamed a third; and now the more society, the more s●eed▪ and advantage of a public combustion. When we see the Church on a flame, it is too late to complain of the flint and steel; It is the holy wisdom of superiors to prevent the dangerous attritions of stubborn, and wrangling spirits; or to quench their first sparks in the tinder.  
But, why should not Grace and Truth be as successful in dilating itself to the gaining of many hearts? Certainly these are in themselves more winning, if our corruption had not made us indisposed to good: O God, out of a● holy envy and emulation at the speed of evil, I shall labour to enkindle others with these heavenly flames, it shall not be my fault if they spread not.   

XXVII.  
Upon the sight of an humble and patient Beggar.  
SEe what need can do; This man, who in so lowly a fashion croucheth to that Passenger, hath in all likelihood as good a stomach as he, to whom he thus abaseth himself; and if their conditions were but altered, would look as high, and speak as big to him, whom he now answers with a plausible and dejected reverence.  
It is thus betwixt God; and us: He sees the way to tame us, is to hold us short of these earthly contentments: Even the Savagest Beasts are made quiet and docible, with want of food, and rest; Oh GOD, thou only knowest what I would do, if I had health, ease, abundance; do thou in thy wisdom and mercy so proportion thy gifts, and restraints, as thou knowest best for my soul. If I be not humbled enough, let me want; and so order all my estate; that I may want any thing save thyself.   

XXVIII.  
Upon the sight of a Crow pulling off wool from the back of a Sheep.  
HOw well these Creatures know whom they may be bold with? That Crow durst not do this to a Wolf, or Mastiff; The known simplicity of this innocent beast gives advantage to this presumption.  
Meekness of spirit commonly draws on injuries.  
The cruelty of ill natures usually seeks out those, not who deserve worst, but who will bear most.  
Patience and mildness of Spirit is ill bestowed where it exposes a man to wrong and insultation;  
Sheepish dispositions are best to others; worst to themselves. I could be willing to take injuries; but I will not be guilty of provoking them by lenity; for harmlessness let me go for a Sheep, but whosoever will be tearing my fleece; let him look to himself.   

XXIX.  
Upon the sight of two Snails.  
THere is much variety even in Creatures of the same kind. See there, two Snails; One hath an house, the other wants it; yet both are Snails; and it is a question whether case is the better; That which hath an house hath more shelter, but that which wants it, hath more freedom; The privilege of that cover is but a burden; you see if it have but a stone to climb over, with what stress it draws up that beneficial load; and if the passage prove straight, finds no entrance: whereas the empty Snail makes no difference of way; Surely, it is always an ease, and sometimes an happiness to have nothing; no man is so worthy of envy as he that can be cheerful in want:   

XXX.  
Upon the hearing of the street cries in London.  
What a noise do these poor souls make in proclaiming their commodities? each tells what he hath, and would have all hearers take notice of it; and yet (GOD wot) it is but poor stuff that they set out, with so much ostentation; I do not hear any of the rich Merchants talk of what bags he hath in his chests, or what treasures of rich wares in his store-house; every man rather desires to hide his wealth; and when he is urged, is ready to dissemble his ability. No otherwise is it in the true Spiritual riches; he that is full of Grace, and good works, affects not to make show of it to the world, but rests sweetly in the secret testimony of a good Conscience; and the silent applause of GOD'S spirit witnessing with his own; whiles contrarily the venditation of our own worth, or parts, or merits, argues a miserable indigence in them all; O GOD, if the confessing of thine own gifts may glorify thee, my modesty shall not be guilty of a niggardly unthankfulness; but for aught that concerns myself, I cannot be too secret; Let me so hide myself that I may not wrong thee; and wisely distinguish betwixt thy praise, and my own. * ⁎ *   

XXXI.  
Upon the Flies gathering to a galled Horse.  
HOw these Fly's swarm to the galled part of this poor Beast; and there sit feeding upon that worst piece of his flesh; not meddling with the other sound parts of his skin; Even thus do malicious tongues of Detractors; if a man have any infirmity in his person or actions, that they will be sure 〈◊〉 gather unto, and dwell upon: whereas his commendable parts, and well-deseruing are passed by, without mention, without regard; It is an envious self-love, and base cruelty that causeth this ill disposition in men; In the mean time this only they have gained, it must needs be a filthy Creature, that feeds upon nothing but corruption. * ⁎ *   

XXXII.  
Upon the sight of a dark Lantborne.  
THere is light indeed, but so shut up, as if it were not; and when the side is most open, there is light enough to give direction to him that bears it, none to others: He can discern another man by that light, which is cast before him, but another man cannot discern him; Right such is reserved knowledge; no man is the better for it, but the owner; there is no outward difference betwixt concealed skill; and ignorance; and when such hidden knowledge will look forth, it casts so sparing a light, as may only argue it to have an unprofitable being; to have ability without will to good; power to censure, none to benefit: the suppression or engrossing of those helps which GOD would have us to impart, is but a Thief's Lantern in a true man's hand; Oh GOD, as all our light is from thee, the Father of Lights, so make me no niggard of that poor Rush-candle thou hast lighted in my Soul; make me more happy in giving light to others, then in receiving it into myself.   

XXXIII.  
Upon the hearing of a Swallow in the Chimney.  
HEre is Music, such as it is; but how long will it hold! When but a cold morning comes in, my guest is gone, without either warning, or thanks; This pleasant season hath the least need of cheerful notes; the dead of winter shall want, and wish them in vain: Thus doth an ungrateful Parasite: no man is more ready to applaud, and enjoy our prosperity, but when with the times our condition bigins to alter, he is a stranger at least; Give me that Bird which will sing in winter, and seek to my window in the hardest frost; there is no trial or friendship but adversity; He that is not ashamed of my bonds, not daunted with my checks, not aliened with my disgrace, is a friend for me; One dram of that man's love, is worth a world of false and inconstant formality.   

XXXIIII.  
Upon the sight of a Fly burning itself in the Candle.  
Wise SALOMON says, the light is a pleasant thing; and so certainly it is; but there is no true outward light which proceeds not from fire: The light of that fire than is not more pleasing, than the fire of that light is dangerous; and that pleasure doth not more draw on our sight, than that danger forbids our approach: How foolish is this fly, that in a love and admiration of this light, will know no distance, but puts itself heedlessly into that flame, wherein it perishes; How many boots it fetched, every one nearer than other, ere it made this last venture; and now that merciless fire taking no notice of the affection of an overfond Client, hath suddenly consumed it; Thus do those bold and busy spirits, who will needs draw too near unto that inacessible light; and look into things too wonderful for them, So long do they hover about the secret counsels of the Almighty, till the wings of their presumptuous conceits be scorched, and their daring curiosity hath paid them with everlasting destruction; Oh LORD, let me be blessed with the knowledge of what thou hast revealed, Let me content myself to adore thy divine wisdom in what thou hast not revealed; so let me enjoy thy light, that I may avoid thy fire. * ⁎ *   

XXXV.  
Upon the sight of a Lark flying up.  
HOw nimbly doth that little Lark mount up singing towards Heaven, in a right line; whereas the Hawk, which is stronger of body, and swifter of wing, towr●● up by many gradual compasses to his highest pitch? that bulk of body, and length of wing hinders a direct ascent, and requires the help both of air, and scope to advance his flight; whiles that small bird cuts the air without resistance, and needs no outward furtherance of her motion; It is no otherwise with the souls of men in flying up to their Heaven; some are hindered by those powers which would seem helps to their saring up thither; great wit, deep judgement, quick apprehension, sends men about with no small labour for the recovery of their own encumbrance; whiles the good affections of plain simple souls raises them up immediately, to the fruition of God; why should we be proud of that which may slacken our way to Glory; why should we be dishartened with the small measure of that, the very want whereof may (as the heart may be affected) facilitate our way to happiness?   

XXXVI.  
Upon the singing of the Birds in a Spring morning.  
HOw cheerfully do these little Birds chirp and sing out of the natural joy they conceive at the approach of the Sun, and entrance of the Spring; as if their life had departed, and returned with those glorious and comfortable beams; No otherwise is the penitent and faithful soul affected to the true Sun of Righteousness, the Father of lights? When he hides his face, it is troubled, and silently mourns away that sad Winter of Affliction; When he returns, in his presence is the fullness of joy; no song is cheerful enough to welcome him; Oh thou, who art the GOD of all consolation, make my heart sensible of the sweet comforts of thy gracious presence, and let my mouth ever show forth thy praise.   

XXXVII.  
Upon a Coal covered with ashes.  
NOthing appears in this heap, but dead ashes; here is neither light, nor smoke, nor heat, and yet, when I stir up these embers to the bottom, there are found some living gleeds▪ which do both contain fire, and are apt to propagate it; Many a Christians breast is like this hearth; no life of Grace appears there, for the time, either to his own sense, or to the apprehension of others, whiles the season of temptation lasteth, all seems cold and dead; yet still at the worst, there is a secret coal from the Altar of Heaven raked up in their bosom; which upon the gracious motions of the Almighty, doth both bewray some Remainders of that divine fire, and is easily raised to a perfect flame; Nothing is more dangerous then to judge by appearances: Why should I deject myself, or censure others for the utter extinction of that spirit, which doth but hide itself in the soul for a glorious advantage?   

XXXVIII.  
Upon the sight of a Blackamoor.  
Lo, there is a Man whose hue shows him to be far from home, his very skin bewayes his Climate; it is night in his face, whiles it is day in ours; What a difference there is in men, both in their fashion, and colour; and yet all Children of one Father? Neither is there less variety in their insides; their dispositions, judgements, opinions differ as much as their shapes, and complexions, That which is beauty to one, is deformity to another; We should be looked upon in this man's Country, with no less wonder, and strange coyness, than he is here; our whiteness would pass there for an unpleasing indigestion of form; Outward beauty is more in the eye of the beholder, then in the face that is seen; in every colour that is fair which pleaseth: The very Spouse of Christ can say, I am black but comely; this is our colour Spiritually, yet the eye of our gracious GOD and Saviour can see that beauty in us, wherewith he is delighted; The true MOSES marries a Blackamoor, CHRIST his Church: It is not for us to regard the skin, but the Soul: If that be innocent, pure, holy, the blots of an outside cannot set us off from the love of him who hath said; Behold, thou art fair my Sister, my spouse; if that be foul and black, it is not in the power of an Angelical brightness of our hide, to make us other then a loathsome Eye sore to the Almighty; O GOD., make my inside lovely to thee; I know that beauty will hold; whiles weather, casualty, age, disease may deform the outer-man, and mar both colour and features.   

XXXIX.  
Upon the small Stars in the Galaxy or milky Circle in the Firmament.  
What a clear lightsomness there is in yonder Circle of the Heaven above the rest? What can we suppose the reason of it, but that the light of many smalller stars is united there, and causes that constant brightness? And yet those small stars are not discerned whiles the splendour which ariseth from them is so notably remarkable: In this lower heaven of ours, many a man is made conspicuous by his good qualities, and deserts, but I most admire the humility and grace of those, whose virtues and merits are usefully visible, whiles their persons are obscure; It is secretly glorious for a man to shine unseen; Doubtless it is the height that makes those stars so small, and insensible; were they lower, they would be seen more; there is no true greatness without a selfe-humiliation; we shall have made an ill use of our advancement, if by how much higher we are, we do not appear less; If our light be seen, it matters not for our hiding.   

XL.  
Upon the sight of Boys playing.  
EVery age hath some peculiar contentment; Thus we did, when we were of these years; Me thinks I still remember the old fervour of my young pastimes. With what eagerness and passion do they pursue these Childish sports; Now, that there is a whole handful of cherry-stones at the stake, how near is that boy's heart to his mouth, for fear of his play fellows next cast? and how exalted with desire and hope of his own speed; those great unthrifts who hazard whole Manors upon the Dice, cannot expect their chance with more earnestness, or entertain it with more joy, or grief: We cannot but now smile to think of these poor and foolish pleasures of our Childhood; there is no less disdain that the Regenerate man conceives of the dearest delights of his natural condition; He was once jolly, and jocund, in the fruition of the world: feasts and revels, and games, and dalliance were his life; and no man could be happy without these; and scarce any man but himself; but when once Grace hath made him both good and wise, how scornfully doth he look back at these fond felicities of his carnal estate; now he finds more manly, more divine contentments; and wonders he could be so transported with his former vanity. Pleasures are much according as they are esteemed; One man's delight is another man's pain; Only Spiritual and Heavenly things can settle and satiate the heart with a full and firm contentation; Oh GOD, thou art not capable either of bettering, or of change; let me enjoy thee; and I shall pity the miserable fickleness of those that want thee; and shall be sure to be constantly happy. * ⁎ *   

XLI.  
Upon the sight of a Spider and her Web.  
HOw justly do we admire the curious work of this Creature? What a thread doth it spin forth? What a web doth it weave? Yet it is full of deadly poison; There may be much venom, where is much Art; Just like to this is a learned, & witty Heretic; fine conceits, and elegant expressions fall from him, but his opinions & secretly-couched doctrines are dangerous, & mortal; were not that man strangely foolish, who because he likes the artificial drawing out of that web, would therefore desire to handle, or eat the Spider that made it? Such should be our madness, if our wonder at the skill of a false teacher should cast us into love with his person, or familiarity with his writings; There can be no safety in our judgement or affection, without a wise distinction; in the want whereof we must needs wrong GOD, or ourselves: GOD, if we acknowledge not what excellent parts he gives to any Creature; ourselves, if upon the allowance of those excellencies, we swallow their most dangerous enormities.   

XLII.  
Upon the sight of a Natural.  
OH God, Why am not I thus? What hath this man done, that thou hast denied wit to him? or what have I done that thou shouldst give a competency of it to me? What difference is there betwixt us but thy bounty, which hath bestowed upon me what I could not merit, and hath withheld from him what he could not challenge. All is, O God, in thy good pleasure, whether to give, or deny; Neither is it otherwise in matter of Grace. The unregenerate man is a Spiritual fool; no man is truly wise but the renewed; how is it, that whiles I see another man besotted with the vanity and corruption of his nature; I have attained to know God, and the great mystery of Salvation, to abhor those sins which are pleasing to a wicked appetite? Who hath discerned me? Nothing but thy free mercy, O my GOD; why else was I a Man not a brute Beast? Why right shaped, not a Monster? Why perfectly limmed, not a cripple? Why well-fensed, not a fool? Why well affected, not graceless? why a vessel of honour, not of wrath? If ought be not ill in me, O LORD, it is thine; Oh let thine be the praise, and mine the thankfulness.   

XLIII.  
Upon the Loadstone and the jet.  
AS there is a civil commerce amongst men for the preservation of humane Society, so there is a natural commerce which GOD hath set amongst the other Creatures for the maintenance of their common being; There is scarce any thing therefore in nature, which hath not a power of attracting some other; The fire draws vapours to it, the Sun draws the fire-Plants draws moisture, the Moon draws the Sea, all purgative things draw their proper humours, a natural instinct draws all sensitive Creatures to affect their own kind; and even in those things which are of imperfect mixtion, we see this experimented, So as the senseless stones and metals are not void of this active virtue; the loadstone draws Iron, and the jet, rather than nothing, draws up straws, and dust; with what a force do both these stones work upon their several Subjects; is there any thing more heavy and unapt for motion then Iron, or steel? Yet these do so run to their beloved loadstone, as if they had the sense of a desire and delight; and do so cling to the point of it, as if they had forgotten their weight for this adherence. Is their any thing more apt for dispersion then small straws, and dust? yet these gather to the jet, and so sensibly leap up to it, as if they had a kind of ambition to be so perferred;  
Me thinks, I see in these two a mere Emblem of the hearts of men, & their spiritual attractives; The grace of God's spirit, like the true Loadstone, or Adamant, draws up the iron heart of man to it, and holds it in a constant fixedness of holy purposes, and good actions; The world like the jet draws up the sensual hearts of light and Vain men, and holds them fast in the pleasures of sin. I am thine iron, O Lord, be thou my Loadstone. Draw thou me and I shall run after thee: Knit my heart unto thee that I may fear thy name. * ⁎ *   

XLIIII.  
Upon hearing of Music by night.  
HOw sweetly doth this Music sound in this dead season? In the day time it would not, it could not so much affect the ear? All harmonious sounds are advanced by a silent darkness; Thus it is with the glad tidings of Salvation; The Gospel never sounds so sweet, as in the night of persecution, or of our own private affliction; It is ever the same, the difference is in our disposition to receive it. O God, whose praise it is to give songs in the night, make my prosperity conscionable, and my crosses cheerful.   

XLV.  
Upon the fanning of Corne.  
SEe how in the fanning of this Wheat, the fullest and greatest grains lie ever the lowest; and the lightest take up the highest place; It is no otherwise in mortality; those which are most humble, are fullest of Grace; and oft times those have most conspicuity, which have the least substance; To affect obscurity or submission, is base and suspicious; but that man whose modesty presents him mean to his own eyes, and lowly to others, is commonly secretly rich in virtue; Give me rather a low fullness than an empty advancement;   

XLVI.  
Upon Herbs dried.  
THey say those herbs will keep best, and will longer retain both their hue and verdure, which are dried thus in the shade, than those which are suddenly scorched with fire, or Sun;  
Those wits are like to be most durable, which are closely tutored with a leisurely education;  
Time and gentle Constancy ripens better than a sudden violence; Neither is it otherwise in our spiritual condition; A wilful slackness is not more dangerous, than an over-hastening of our perfection; If I may be every moment drawing nearer to the end of my hope, I shall not wish to precipitate.   

XLVII.  
Upon the quenching of Iron in water.  
Hark how that Iron quenched in the water hisseth, and makes that noise, which whiles it was cold, or dry, it would never make; we cannot quench hot and unruly desires in youth without some mutiny, and rebellious opposition.  
Corruptions cannot be subdued without some relucation, and that reluctation cannot be without some tumult: After some short noise, and smoke, and bubbling, the mettle is quiet and holds to the form, whereinto it is beaten, O GOD, why should it trouble me to find my good endeavours resisted, for the little brunt of a change, whiles I am sure this insurrection shall end in an happy peace?   

XLVIII.  
Upon a fair coloured Fly.  
WHat a pleasant mixture of colours there is in this Fly; and yet they say, no fly is so venomous as this; which by the outward touch of the hand corrodes the inmost passages of the body;  
It is no trusting to colours, and shapes; we may wonder at their Excellency; without dotage upon their Beauty. Homeliness makes less show, and hath less danger; Give me inward virtue and usefulness; let others care for outward glory.   

XLIX.  
Upon a Glow-worm.  
WHat a cold Candle is lighted up in the body of this sorry Worm? There needs no other disproof of those that say there is no light at all without some heat; Yet sure an outward heat helps on this cool light; Never did I see any of these bright worms but in the hot months of Summer; in cold seasons, either they are not, or appear not, when the nights are both darkest, and longest, and most uncomfortable. Thus do falsehearted Christians in the warm and lightsome times of free and encouraged profession, none shine more than they; In hard & gloomy seasons of restraint, and persecution all their formal light is either lost, or hid; Whereas true Professors either like the Sun shine ever alike, or, like the Stars, shine fairest in the frostiest nights: The light of this worm is for some show, but for no use; any light that is attended with heat can impart itself to others, though with the expense of that subject wherein it is; this doth neither waist itself, nor help others; I had rather never to have light, than not to have it always; I had rather not to have light; than not to communicate it.   

L.  
Upon the shutting of one Eye.  
WHen we would take aim, or see most exquisitely, we shut one eye: Thus must we do with the eyes of our Soul; When we would look most accurately with the eye of Faith, we must shut the eye of Reason; else the visual beams of these two apprehensions, will be crossing each other, and hinder our clear discerning; Yea rather, let me pull out this right eye of Reason, than it shall offend me in the interruptions of mine happy Visions of GOD.   

LI.  
Upon a Spring-water.  
HOw this Spring smoketh, whiles other greater Channels are frozen up; this water is living, whiles they are dead; All experience teacheth us that Well-waters arising from deep springs, are hotter in Winter, then in Summer; the outward cold doth keep in, and double their inward heat. Such is a true Christian in the evil day; his life of Grace gets more vigour by opposition; he had not been so gracious, if the times had been better; I will not say he may thank his enemies, but I must say he may thank God for his Enemies; O GOD, what can put out that heat, which is increased with cold? How happy shall I be, if I may grow so much more in Grace, as the World in Malice? * ⁎ *   

LII.  
Upon Gnats in the Sun.  
What a Cloud of Gnats is here? Mark their motion; they do nothing but play up and down in the warm Sun, and sing; and when they have done, sit down and sting the next hand, or face they can seize upon; See here a perfect emblem of Idleness and Detraction; how many do thus miserably misspend their good hours? Who after they have wasted the succeeding days in vain, and meerely-unprofitable pastime, sit down, and backebite their Neighbours. The Bee sings too sometimes, but she works also: and her work is not more admirable, then useful; but these foolish Flies, do nothing but play, and sing to no purpose; even the busiest, and most active spirits most recreate, but to make a Trade of sport, is for none but lazy Wantoness.  
The Bee stings too; but it is when she is provoked; these draw blood, unoffended, and sting for their own pleasure: I would be glad of some recreation but to enable, and sweeten my work; I would not but sting sometimes where is just cause of offence. But God bless me from those men, which will ever be either doing nothing, or ill.   

LIII.  
Upon the sight of Grapes.  
Mark the difference of these Grapes; There you see a cluster, whose grapes touch one another, well ripened; here you see some stragglers, which grow almost solitarily, green and hard. It is thus with us, Christian society helpeth our progress; And, woe to him that is alone; He is well, that is the better for others; but he is happy by whom others are better.   

LIIII.  
Upon a Corn field overgrown with Weeds.  
Here were a goodly field of Corn, if it were not over-laid with Weeds; I do not like these reds, and blewes, and yellows, amongst these plain stalks and ears: This beauty would do well elsewhere; I had rather to see a plot less fair, and more yielding; In this Field I see a true picture of the World; wherein there is more Glory, then true substance; Wherein the greater part carries it from the better; Wherein the native Sons of the Earth outstrip the adventitious brood of grace; Wherein Parasites and unprofitable hangs-by do both rob, and overtop their Masters; Both Field and World grow alike, look alike; and shall end alike; both are for the fire; whiles the homely and solid ears of despised Virtue shall be for the garners of immortality.   

LV.  
Upon the sight of Tulipaes and marigolds, etc. in his Garden.  
THese Flowers are true Clients of the Sun; how observant they are of his motion, and influence? At even, they shut up, as mourning for his departure, without whom they neither can nor would flourish, in the morning, they welcome his rising with a cheerful openness, and at noon, are fully displayed in a free acknowledgement of his bounty: Thus doth the good heart unto God; When thou turnedst away thy face I was troubled, saith the man after Gods own heart; In thy presence is life, yea the fullness of joy: Thus doth the carnal heart to the world; when that withdraws his favour, he is dejected; and revives with a smile: All is in our choice; whatsoever is our Sun will thus carry us; O God, be thou to me, such as thou art in thyself; thou shalt be merciful in drawing me; I shall be happy in following thee.   

LVI.  
Upon the sound of a cracked Bell.  
WHat an harsh sound doth this Bell make in every ear? The Mettle is good enough; it is the rifte that makes it so unpleasingly jarring; How too like is this Bell to a scandalous and ill-lived Teacher? His calling is honourable; his noise is heard far enough; but the flaw (which is noted in his life) mars his Doctrine; and offends those ears which else would take pleasure in his teaching; It is possible that such a one, even by that discordous noise may ring in others into the Triumphant Church of Heaven; but there is no remedy for himself but the fire; whether for his reforming, or judgement. * ⁎ *   

LVII.  
Upon the sight of a blind Man.  
HOw much am I bound to GOD that hath given me eyes to see this Man's want of eyes? With what suspicion and fear he walks? How doth his hand and staff examine his way? With what jealousy doth he receive every morsel, every draught, and yet meets with many a post, and stumbles at many a stone, and swallows many a fly. To him the world is as if it were not, or as if it were all rubs, and snares, and downfalls; And if any man will lend him an hand, he must trust to his (how ever faithless) guide without all comfort save this, that he cannot see himself miscarry. Many a one is thus Spiritually blind, and because he is so, discerns it not; and not discerning complains not of so woeful a condition. The God of this world hath blinded the eyes of the Children of disobedience; they walk on in the ways of death; and yield themselves over to the guidance of him who seeks for nothing but their precipitation into Hell. It is an addition to the misery of this inward occaecation, that it is ever joined with a secure confidence in them whose trade and ambition is to betray their Souls.  
What ever become of these outward senses which are common to me with the meanest, and most despicable creatures; O Lord, give me not over to that Spiritual darkness, which is incident to none but those that live without thee, and must perish eternally, because they want thee.   

LVIII.  
Upon a Beech-tree full of Nuts.  
HOw is this Tree overladen with mast, this year? It was not so the last; neither will it (I warrant you) be so the next; It is the Nature of these free Trees, so to pour out themselves into fruit, at once, that they seem afterwards either sterile, or niggardly: So have I seen pregnant wits (not discreetly governed) overspend themselves in some one masterpiece so lavishly, that they have proved either barren, or poor and flat in all other subjects. True-Wisedome as it serves to gather due sap both for nourishment, and fructification, so it guides the seasonable and moderate bestowing of it in such manner, as that one season may not be a glutton, while others famish: I would be glad to attain to that measure and temper that upon all occasions I might always have enough, never too much.   

LIX.  
Upon the sight of a piece of Money under the Water.  
I Should not wish ill to a Covetous man, if I should wish all his Coin in the bottom of the River; No pavement could so well become that stream; no sight could better fit his greedy desires; for there every piece, would seem double, every teston would appear a shilling, every Crown an Angel. It is the nature of that element to greaten appearing quantities; while we look through the air upon that solid body, it can make no other representations: Neither is it otherwise in spiritual eyes, and objects; if we look with carnal eyes through the interposed means of sensuality, every base and worthless pleasure will seem a large contentment; if with weak eyes we shall look at small and immaterial truths aloof off, in another element of apprehension, every parcel thereof shall seem main, and essential; hence every knack of heraldry in the sacred genealogies, & every Scholastical quirk in disquisitions of Divinity, are made matters of no less than life, and death to the Soul. It is a great improvement of true wisdom to be able to see things as they are, and to value them as they are seen. Let me labour for that power and staidness of judgement, that neither my senses may deceive my mind, nor the object may delude my sense. * ⁎ *   

LX.  
Upon the first rumour of the Earthquake at Lime, wherein a Wood was swallowed up with the fall of two Hills.  
GOod LORD; how do we know when we are sure? If there were Man or Beast in that-Wood, they seemed as safe as we now are; they had nothing but Heaven above them, nothing but firm Earth below them; and yet in what a dreadful pitfall were they instantly taken; There is no fence for God's hand; A man would as soon have feared that Heaven would fall upon him, as those Hills? It is no pleasing ourselves with the unlikelyhood of divine iudgemens'. We have oft heard of Hills covered with Woods, but of Woods covered with Hills I think never till now; Those that planted or sowed those Woods, intended they should be spent with fire, but, Lo, GOD meant they should be devoured with Earth;  
We are wont to describe impossibilities by the meeting of Mountains, and behold here two Mountains are met, to swallow up a Valley; What a good God it is whose providence overrules, and disposes of all these events?  
Towns or Cities might as well have been thus buried, as a solitary Dale, or a shrubby Wood: Certainly the God that did this, would have the use of it reach further than the noise; this he did, to show us what he could, what he might do; If our hearts do not quake, and rend at the acknowledgement of his infinite Power, and fear of his terrible judgements as well as that Earth did, we must expect to be made warnings, that would take none.   

LXI.  
Upon the sight of a Dormouse.  
AT how easy a rate do these Creatures live that are fed with rest; So the Bear and the Hedgehog (they say) spend their whole winter in sleep, and rise up fatter than they lay down; How oft have I envied the thriving drowsiness of these Beasts; When the toil of thoughts hath bereaved me of but one hours' sleep; and left me languishing to a new task; and yet, when I have well digested the comparison of both these conditions, I must needs say, I had rather waste with work, then batten with ease; & would rather choose a life profitably painful, then uselessely dull and delicate. I cannot tell whether I should say those Creatures live, which doth nothing; since we are want ever to notify life by motion; Sure I am their life is not vital; For me, Let me rather complain of a mind that will not let me be idle, then of a body that will not let me work.   

LXII.  
Upon Bees fight.  
What a pity it is to see these profitable, industrious Creatures fall so furiously upon each other, and thus sting and kill each other, in the very mouth of the Hive; I could like well to see the Bees do this execution upon Wasps, and drones, enemies to their common stock, this savours but of justice; But to see them fall foul upon those of their own wing, it cannot but trouble their owner, who must needs be an equal leeser by the victory of either; There is no more perfect reesemblance of a Commonwealth, whether civil, or sacred, then in an Hive: The Bees are painful and honest Compatriots, labouring to bring Wax and Honey to the maintenance of the public state; The Wasps and Drones are unprofitable and harmful Hangs-by, which live upon the spoil of others labours; whether as common Barattors, or strong thieves, or bold Parasites, they do nothing but rob their Neighbours. It is an happy sight when these feel the dint of justice, and are cut off from doing further mischief; But to see well-affected and beneficial Subjects undo themselves with duels, whether of Law, or Sword; to see good Christians of the same profession, shedding each others blood, upon quarrels of Religion, is no other than a sad and hateful spectacle; and so much the more, by how much we have more means of reason and Grace to compose our differences, and correct our offensive contentiousness; Oh GOD, who art at once the Lord of Host, and Prince of Peace, give us war with spiritual wickedness, and Peace with our Brethrens. * ⁎ *   

LXIII.  
Upon Wasp's falling into a Glass.  
SEe you that narrow-mouthed glass, which is set near to the Hive, mark how busily the Wasp's resort to it; being drawn thither by the smell of that sweet liquor wherewith it is baited; see how eagerly they creep into the mouth of it; and fall down suddenly from that slippery steepness, into that watery trap, from which they can never rise; there, after some vain labour, and weariness, they drown, and dye; You do not see any of the Bees look that way; they pass directly to their Hive, without any notice taken of such a pleasing Bait; Idle and ill disposed persons are drawn away with every temptation; they have both leisure and will to entertain every sweet allurement to sin, and wantonly prosecute their own wicked lusts till they fall into irrecoverable damnation;  
Whereas the diligent and laborious Christian, that follows hard and conscionably the works of an honest calling, is free from the danger of these deadly enticements, and lays up honey of comfort against the Winter of evil; Happy is that man who can see and enjoy the success of his labour; but, how ever, this we are sure of; if our labour cannot purchase the good we would have, it shall prevent the evil we would avoid. * ⁎ *   

LXIIII  
Upon a Spring in a wild Forest.  
Lo here the true pattern of Bounty; What clear crystal streams are here, and how liberally do they gush forth and hasten down, with a pleasing murmur, into the Valley; Yet you see neither Man nor Beast, that takes part of that wholesome and pure water; It is enough, that those may dip who will; the refusal of others doth no whit abate of this proffered plenty; Thus bountiful Housekeepers keepers hold on their set ordinary provision, whether they have guests, or no; Thus conscionable Preachers pour out the living Waters of wholesome Doctrine, whether their Hearers partake of those blessed means of Salvation, or neglect their holy endeavours; Let it be our comfort that we have been no niggards of thes celestial streams, let the world give an account of the improvement.   

LXV.  
Upon the sight of an Owl in the twilight.  
WHat a strange Melancholic life doth this Creature lead; to hide her head, all the day long, in an yvie-bush, and at night, when all other Birds are at rest, to fly abroad, and vent her harsh notes; I know not why the ancients have sacred this Bird to wisdom, except it be for her safe closeness, and singular perepicacity; that when other domestical and airy Creatures are blind, she only hath inward light to discern the least objects for her own advantage; Surely thus much wit they have taught us in her; that he is the wisest man, that would have least to do with the multitude; that no life is so safe as the obscure; that retiredness, if it have less comfort, yet less danger and vexation; Lastly, that he is truly wise who sees by a light of his own, when the rest of the world sit in an ignorant and confused darkness, unable to apprehend any truth, save by the helps of an outward illumination.  
Had this Fowl comen forth in the day time, how had all the little Birds flocked wondering about her, to see her uncouth visage, to hear her untuned notes; she likes her estate never the worse, but pleaseth herself in her own quiet reservedness; It is not for a wise man to be much affected with the censures of the rude and unskilful vulgar, but to hold fast unto his own well-chosen and well-fixed resolutions; Every fool knows what is wont to be done; but what is best to be done, is known only to the wise.   

LXVI.  
Upon an arm benumbed.  
HOw benumbed and (for the time) senseless is this arm of mine becomne, only with too long leaning upon it?  
Whiles I used it to other services, it failed me not, now that I have rested upon it, I find cause to complain; It is no trusting to an arm of flesh; On whatsoever occasion we put our confidence therein, this reliance will be sure to end in pain, and disappointment; O GOD, thine arm is strong and mighty; all thy Creatures rest themselves upon that, and are comfortably sustained; Oh that we were not more capable of distrust, than thine omnipotent hand is of weariness and subduction. * ⁎ *   

LXVII.  
Upon the Sparks flying upward.  
IT is a feeling comparison (that of JOB) of man borne to labour, as the sparks to fly upward; That motion of theirs is no other than natural; Neither is it otherwise for man to labour; his mind is created active, and apt to some or other ratiocination; his joints all stirring; his nerves made for helps of moving; and his occasions of living call him forth to action: So as an idle man doth not more want Grace, then degenerate from Nature. Indeed, at the first kindling of the fire, some sparks are wont, by the impulsion of the Bellowes, to fly forward, or sideward; and even so, in our first Age, youthly vanity may move us to irregular courses; but when those first violences are overcome; and we have attained to a settledness of disposition, our sparks fly up, our life is labour; And why should we not do that, which we are made for? Why should not GOD rather grudge us our being, than we grudge him our work? It is no thank to us that we labour out of necessity; out of my obedience to thee, O GOD I desire ever to be employed; I shall never have comfort in my toil, if it be rather a purveyance for myself, than a Sacrifice to thee. * ⁎ *   

LXVIII.  
Upon the sight of a Raven.  
I Cannot see that Bird but I must needs think of ELIAH; and wonder no less at the miracle of his faith then of his provision; It was a strong belief that carried him into a desolate retiredness to expect food from Ravens; This fowl, we know, is ravenous; all is too little that he can forage for himself; and the Prophet's reason must needs suggest to him, that in a dry barren Desert bread and flesh must be great dainties; yet he goes aside to expect victuals from that purveyance; He knew this Fowl to be no less greedy, then unclean; Unclean, as in Law, so in the nature of his seed; What is his ordinary prey but loathsome carrion? Yet since GOD had appointed him this Cator, he stands nor upon the nice points of a fastidious squeamishness, but confidently depends upon that uncouth provision; And accordingly, these unlikely purveyors bring him bread and flesh in the Morning, and bread and flesh in the Evening.  
Not one of those hungry Ravens could swallow one morsel of those viands, which were sent, by them, to a better mouth; The River of Cherith sooner failed him, than the tender of their Service No doubt, ELIAHS' stomach was often up before that his incurious diet came; When expecting from the mouth of his Cave, out of what Coast of Heaven these his Servitors might be descried, upon the sight of them, he magnified, with a thankful heart, the wonderful goodness and truth of his GOD; and was nourished more with his faith, then with his food: O GOD, how infinite is thy providence, wisdom, power? We creatures are not what we are, but what thou wilt have us; when thy turn is to be served, we have none of our own; Give me but faith, and do what thou wilt.   

LXIX.  
Upon a Worm.  
IT was an homely expression which GOD makes of the state of his Church, Fear not, thou Worm JACOB; Every foot is ready to tread on this despised Creature; Whiles it keeps itself in that cold obscure Cell of the earth (wherein it was hidden) it lay safe, because it was secret, but now that it hath put itself forth; of that close Ca●e, and hath presented itself to the light of the Sun, to the eye of Passengers; how is it vexed with the scorching beams, and wrings up and down, in an helpless perplexity; not finding where to shroud itself; how obnoxious is it to the fowls of the air, to the feet of men, and beasts? He that made this Creature such, and calls his Church so, well knew the answerableness of their condition: How doth the World overlook, and contemn that little flocke, whose best-gard hath ever been secrecy? And if ever that despicable number have dared to show itself, how hath it 〈◊〉 scorched, and trampled upon, and entertained with all variety of Persecution? O Saviour, thy Spouse fares no otherwise then thyself; to match her fully, thou hast said of thyself, I am a Worm and no man; Such thou wert in thine humbled estate, here on earth; such thou wouldst be; But, as it is a true word that he who made the Angels in Heaven, made also the Worms on earth, so it is no less true, that he who made himself and his Church Worms upon Earth, hath raised our nature in his person above the Angels, and our person in his Church to little less than Angels; It matters not how we fare in this Valley of tears, whiles we are sure; of that infinite amends of Glory above.   

LXX.  
Upon the putting on of his clothes.  
What a poor thing were Man, if he were not beholden to other Creatures? The Earth affords him flax for his linen, bread for his belly, the Beasts his ordinary clothes, the Silkworm his bravery; the back and bowels of the Earth his metals and fuel; the Fishes, Fowls, Beasts his nourishment; His wit indeed works upon all these, to improve them to his own advantage; but they must yield him materials, else he subsists not. And yet we fools are proud of ourselves, yea proud of the cast Suits of the very basest Creatures: There is not one of them that have so much need of us; They would enjoy themselves the more, if Man were not; Oh GOD, the more we are sensible of our own indigence, the more let us wonder at thine alsufficiency in thyself; and long for that happy condition, wherein thou (which art all perfection) shalt be all in all to us.   

LXXI.  
Upon the sight of a great Library.  
What a world of wit is here packed up together? I know not whether this sight doth more dismay, or comfort me; it dismays me to think, that here is so much that I cannot know; It comforts me, to think that this variety yields so good helps to know what I should; There is no truer word then that of SALOMON, There is no end of making many Books; this sight verifies it; There is no end; indeed, it were pity there should. GOD hath given to Man a busy Soul; the agitation whereof, cannot but through time and experience, work out many hidden truths; to suppress these would be no other than injurious to Mankind; whose minds like unto so many candles, should be kindled by each other: The thoughts of our deliberation are most accurate; these we vent into our Papers; What an happiness is it, that, without all offence of Necromancy, I may here call up any of the ancient Worthies of learning, whether humane, or divine, and confer with them of all my doubts? That I can at pleasure summon whole Synods of Reverend Fathers, and acute Doctors from all the Coasts of the Earth; to give their well-studyed judgements in all points of question which I propose? Neither can I cast my eye casually upon any of these silent Masters, but I must learn somewhat: It is a wantonness to complain of choice;  
No Law binds us to read all; but the more we can take in, and digest, the better-liking must the minds needs be; Blessed be GOD that hath set up so many clear Lamps in his Church.  
Now, none but the wilfully blind can plead darkness; And blessed be the memory of those his faithful Servants, that have left their blood, their spirits, their liure in these precious Papers▪ and have willingly wasted themselves into these during Monuments, to give light unto others.   

LXXII.  
Upon the red Cross on a door.  
OH sign fearfully significant; this Sickness is a Cross indeed, and that a bloody one; both the form and the colour import Death; The Israelites doors whose lintels were besprinkled with blood, were passed over by the destroying Angel; here, the destroying Angel hath smitten, and hath left this mark of his deadly blow; We are wont to fight cheerfully under this Ensign abroad, and be victorious; Why should we tremble at it at home? Oh GOD, there thou fightest for us, here against us; Under that we have fought for thee, but under this (because our sins have fought against thee) we are fought against by thy judgements.  
Yet Lord, it is thy Cross, though an heavy one; It is ours by merit, thine by imposition; O Lord, sanctify thine affliction, and remove thy vengeance.   

LXXIII.  
Upon the change of Wether.  
I Know not whether it be worse, that the Heaven look upon us always with one face, or ever varying; for as continual change of Wether causes uncertainty of health, so a permanent settledness of one season, causeth a certainty of distemper; perpetual moisture dissolves us, perpetual heat evaporates or inflames us; cold stupefies us, drought obstructs and withers us; Neither is it otherwise in the state of the mind; if our thoughts should be always Volatile, changing, inconstant, we should never attain to any good habit of the Soul, whether in matter of judgement, or disposition; but if they should be always fixed, we should run into the danger of some desperate extremity; to be ever thinking, would make us mad; to be ever thinking of our crosses, or sins, would make us hartlesly dejected; to be ever thinking of Pleasures and Contentments, would melt us into a loose Wantonness; to be ever doubting, and fearing, were an Hellish servitude; to be ever bold, and confident, were a dangerous presumption; but the interchanges of these in a due moderation, keep the Soul in health; O GOD, howsoever these Variations be necessary for my Spiritual condition; Let me have no Wether but Sunshine from thee; Do thou lift up the light of thy countenance upon me; and establish me ever with thy free Spirit.   

LXXIIII.  
Upon the sight of a Marriage.  
WHat a comfortable and feeling resemblance is here of CHRIST, and his Church: I regard not the persons, I regard the institution; Neither the Husband, nor the Wife are now any more their own; they have either of them given over themselves, to other; not only the Wife, which is the weaker vessel, hath yielded over herself to the stronger protection, and participation of an abler head; but the Husband hath resigned his right in himself over to his feebler consort; So as now, her weakness is his; his strength is hers; Yea their very flesh hath altered property; hers is his, his is hers; Yea their very Soul and Spirit may no more be severed in respect of mutual affection, then from their own several bodies: It is thus, O Saviour, with thee and thy Church; We are not our own, but thine; who hast married us to thyself in truth and righteousness; What powers, what endowments have we but from, and in thee? And as our holy boldness dares interest ourselves in thy graces, so thy wonderfully-compassionate mercy vouchsaves to interest thyself in our infirmities; thy poor Church suffers on Earth, thou feelest in Heaven; & as complaining of our stripes, canst say, Why persecutest thou me?  
Thou again art not so thine own, as that thou art not also ours; thy Sufferings, thy Merits, thy Obedience, thy Life, Death, Resurrection, Asscension, Intercession, Glory; yea thy blessed Humanity, yea thy glorious Deity, by virtue of our right, of our Union, are so ours, as that we would not give our part in thee for ten thousand Worlds.  
Oh gracious Saviour, as thou canst not but love and cherish this poor and unworthy Soul of mine, which thou hast mercifully espoused to thyself; so give me Grace to honour and obey thee, and forsaking all the base and sinful rivality of the World, to hold me only unto thee whiles I live here, that I may perfectly enjoy thee hereafter.   

LXXV.  
Upon the sight of a Snake.  
I Know not what horror we find in ourselves at the sight of a Serpent? Other Creatures are more loathsome, and some no less deadly than it; yet, there is none, at which our blood riseth so much, as at this; Whence should this be, but out of an instinct of our old enmity? We were stung in Paradise, and cannot but feel it: But here is our weakness; It was not the body of the Serpent that could have hurt us, without the suggestion of sin; and yet we love the sin whiles we hate the Serpent; Every day are we wounded with the sting of that old Serpent, and complain not; and so much more deadly is that sting, by how much it is less felt: There is a sting of guilt, and there is a sting of remorse; there is mortal venom in the first, whereof we are the least sensible; there is less danger in the second; The Israelites found themselues stung by those fiery Serpents in the Desert; and the sense of their pain sent them to seek for Cure; The World is our Desert; and as the sting of Death is Sin; so the sting of Sin is Death; I do not more with to find ease then pain; If I complain enough, I cannot fail of cure; O thou, which art the true brazen Serpent, lifted up in this Wilderness, raise up mine eyes to thee, and fasten them upon thee; thy mercy shall make my soul whole, my wound sovereign.   

LXXVI.  
Upon the ruins of an Abbey.  
IT is not so easy to say what it was that built up these Walls, as what it was, that pulled them down; even the wickedness of the Possessors;  
Every stone hath a tongue to accuse the Superstition, Hypocrisy, Idleness, Luxury of the late owners.  
Me thinks I see it written all along, in Capital letters upon these heaps; A fruitful Land maketh he barren for the iniquity of them that dwell therein; Perhaps there wanted not some Sacrilege in the Demolishers; in all the carriage of these businesses, there was a just hand, that knew how to make an wholesome and profitable use of mutual sins; Full little did the Builders, or the in-dwellers think that this costly and warm Fabric should so soon end violently in a desolate rubbish: It is not for us to be highminded, but to fear; No Roof is so hie, no Wall so strong, as that sin cannot level it with the Dust; Were any pile so close that it could keep out air, yet it could not keep out judgement where sin hath been fore-admitted;  
In vain shall we promise stability to those Houses which we have made witnesses of, and accessaries to our shameful uncleannesses, The firmness of any building is not so much in the matter, as in the owner, Happy is that Cottage that hath an honest master, and woe be to that Palace that is viciously inhabited.   

LXXVII.  
Upon the discharging of a Piece.  
GOod LORD; how witty men are to kill one another? What fine devices they have found out to murder a far off? To slay many at once; and so to fetch off lives; that whiles a whole Lane is made of Carcases with one blow, no body knows who hurt him? And what honour do we place in slaughter? Those arms, wherein we pride ourselves, are such, as which, we, or our Ancestors have purchased with blood? The Monuments of our Glory, are the spoils of a subdued and slain Enemy; Where contrarily, all the titles of God sound of Mercy, and gracious respects to Man: God the Father is the maker and preserver of men; God the Son is the Saviour of Mankind; God the Holy Ghost styles himself the Comforter: Alas, whose image do we bear in this disposition, but his, whose true title is the Destroyer? It is easy to take away the life, it is not easy to give it; Give me the man that can devose how to save Troops of men from killing, his name shall have room in my Calendar; There is more true honour in a Civic garland, for the preserving of one Subject, then in a Laurel, for the victory of many Enemies; Oh God; there are enough that bend their thoughts to undo what thou hast made, enable thou me to bestow my endeavours in repriving, or rescuing that which might otherwise perish; Oh thou who art our common Saviour, make thou me both ambitious, and able to help to save some other besides myself.   

LXXVIII.  
Upon the tolling of a passing-Bell.  
HOw doleful and heavy is this summons of Death; This sound is not for our ears, but for our hearts; it calls us not only to our prayers, but to our preparation; To our Prayers for the departing Soul; to our preparation for our own departing; We have never so much need of Prayers, as in our last Combat; then is our great Adversary most eager; then are we the weakest, than nature is so over-laboured, that it gives us not leisure to make use of gracious motions; There is no preparation so necessary as for this Conflict; all our life is little enough to make ready for our last hour; What am I better than my Neighbours? How oft hath this Bell reported to me the farewell of many more strong and vigorous bodies than my own; of many more cheerful and lively spirits? And now what doth it, but call me to the thought of my parting? here is no abiding for me; I must away too; Oh thou that art the GOD of comfort, help thy poor Servant that is now struggling with his last enemy; His sad friends stand gazing upon him, and weeping over him, but they cannot succour him; needs must they leave him to do this great work alone; none but thou, to whom belong the issues of death, canst relieve his distressed and over-matched Soul; And for me, let no man dye without me; as I die daily, so teach me to dye once; acquaint me before hand with that Messenger, which I must trust too; Oh teach me so to number my days, that I may apply my heart to true wisdom.   

LXXIX.  
Upon a Defamation dispersed.  
WEre I the first▪ or the best that ever was slandered, perhaps it would be somewhat difficult to command myself patience, Grief is wont to be abated either by partners, or precedents; the want, whereof dejects us beyond measure, as men singled out for patterns of misery: Now, whiles I find this the common condition of all that ever have been reputed virtuous, why am I troubled with the whisperings of false tongues? O GOD, 
* Si Christus judam passus est, cur non ego patiar Birrhichionem? Dial. de S. Martin Sever. Sulpit.  the Devil slandered thee in Paradise; O Saviour, men slandered thee on earth more than Men or Devils can reproach me; Thou art the best, as thou art the best, that ever was smitten by a lying and venomous tongue: It is too much favour that is done me by malicious lips, that they conform me to thy sufferings; I could not be so happy if they were not so spiteful; Oh thou glorious pattern of reproached innocence, if I may not dye for thee, yet let me thus bleed with thee.   

LXXX.  
Upon a ring of Bels.  
WHiles every Bell keeps due time, and order, what a sweet & harmonious sound they make? All the nieghbour Villages are cheered with that common Music; but when once they jar, and check each other; either jangling together, or striking preposterously, how harsh and unpleasing is that noise; So that as we testify our public rejoicing by an orderly and well-tuned peal; So when we would signify that the Town is on fire we ring confusedly.  
It is thus in Church and Commonwealth; when every one knows and keeps their due ranks, there is a melodious consort of Peace and contentment; but when distances, and proportions of respects are not mutually observed; when either States or persons will be clashing with each other, the discord is grievous, and extremely prejudicial; such confusion either notifieth a fire already kindled, or portendeth it; Popular States may ring the changes with safety; but the Monarchical government requires a constant and regular course of the set degrees of rule and inferiority, which cannot be violated without a sensible discontentment, and danger; For me, I do so love the peace of the Church and State, that I cannot but, with the charitable Apostle, say, Would to God they were cut off that trouble them; and shall ever wish either no jars, or no clappers.   

LXXXI.  
Upon the sight of a full Table at a Feast.  
WHat great Variety is here, of flesh, of fish, of both, of neither; as if both Nature and Art did strive to pamper us; Yet me thinks, enough is better than all this, Excess is but a burden, as to the provider, so to the Guest; It pities and grieves me to think what toil, what charge hath gone to the gathering of all these daintyes together, what pain so many poor Creatures have been put to, in dying for a needless Sacrifice to the Belly; what a Penance must be done by every accumbent; in sitting out the passage through all these dishes; what a task the stomach must be put to in the concoxion of so many mixtures; I am not so austerely scrupulous as to deny the lawfulness of these abundant provisions, upon just occasions; I find my Saviour himself more than once at a Feast; this is recorded as well as his one long Fast: Doubtless our bountiful GOD hath given us his Creature, not for necessity only, but for pleasure: But these exceed would be both rare, and moderate; and when they must be, require no less patience than temperance;  
Might I have my option, Oh GOD, give me rather a little with peace and love; He whose provision for every day, was thirty measures of fine flower, and threescore measures of Meal, thirty Oxen, an hundred Sheep, besides Venison, and Fowl, yet can pray, Give me the Bread of sufficiency; Let me have no perpetual Feast but a good Conscience; & from these great preparations (for the health both of Soul and body) let me rise rather hungry, then surcharged.   

LXXXII.  
Upon the hearing of a Lute well played on.  
THere may be (for aught we know) infinite inventions of Art, the possibility whereof we should hardly ever believe, if they were fore-reported to us; Had we lived in some rude, and remote part of the World, and should have been told, that it is possible only by an hollow piece of Wood, and the guts of Beasts, stirred by the fingers of men, to make so sweet and melodious a noise, we should have thought it utterly incredible; yet now that we see and hear it ordinarily done, we make it no wonder; It is no marvel, if we cannot fore-imagine, what kind, and means of harmony GOD will have used by his Saints, and Angels in Heaven; when these poor matters seem so strange to our conceits, which yet our very senses are convinced of; Oh GOD, thou knowest infinite ways to glorify thyself by thy Creatures, which do far transcend our weak, and finite capacities; Let me wonder at thy wisdom and power, and be more awful in my adoratious, then curious in my inquiries.   

LXXXIII.  
Upon the sight and noise of a Peacock.  
I See there are many kinds of Hypocrites; Of all Birds this makes the fairest show, and the worst noise; So as this is an Hypocrite to the eye; There are others, as the Blackbird, that looks foul and sooty, but sings well; this is an Hypocrite to the Ear; There are others that please us well, both in their show, and voice, but are cross in their carriage and condition, as the Popingay, whose colours are beautiful, and noise delightful; yet is apt to do mischief in scratching and biting any hand that comes near it; These are Hypocrites both to the eye▪ and ear; Yet there is a degree further (beyond the example of all brute Creatures) of them, whose show, whose words, whose actions are fair, but their hearts are foul, and abominable;  
No outward beauty can make the Hypocrite other then odious:  
For me, let my profession agree with my words, my words with my actions, my actions with my heart; and let all of them be approved of the GOD of truth.   

LXXXIIII.  
Upon a penitent Malefactor.  
I Know not whether I should more admire the Wisdom or the Mercy of God in his proceedings with men; Had not this man sinned thus notoriously, he had never been thus happy; whiles his courses were fair, and civil, yet he was graceless; now his miscarriage hath drawn him into a just affliction; his affliction hath humbled him; God hath taken this advantage of his humiliation, for his Conversion: Had not one foot slipped into the mouth of Hell, he had never been in this forwardness to Heaven;  
There is no man so weak, or foolish, as that he hath not strength or wit enough to sin; or to make ill use of his sin. It is only the goodness of an infinite GOD, that can make our sin good to us, though evil in itself; Oh GOD, it is no thank to ourselves, or to our sins, that we are bettered with evil; the Work is thine, let thine be the Glory.   

LXXXV.  
Upon the sight of a Lilly.  
THis must needs be a goodly Flower that our Saviour hath singled out to compare with SALOMON, and that not in his ordinary dress, but in all his royalty▪ Surely the earth had never so glorious a King as he, Nature yielded nothing that might set forth royal magnificence, that he wanted; yet he that made both SALOMON and this Flower, says that SALOMON in all his royalty was not clad like it; What a poor thing is this earthly bravery that is so easily overmatched? How ill judges are we of outward beauties that contemn these goodly Plants, which their Creator thus magnifies; and admire those base metals, which he (in comparison hereof) contemns: If it be their transitoriness that embaseth them; what are we? All flesh is Grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of Grass: As we cannot be so brave, so we cannot be more permanent; Oh GOD, let it be my ambition to walk with thee hereafter in white; Could I put on a robe of stars here, with proud HEROD, that glittering garment could not keep me from Lice, or Worms; Might I sit on a Throne of Gold; within an house of ivory, I see I should not compare with this Flower; I might be as transitory, I should not be so beautiful; What matters it whether I go for a flower, or a weed, here; whethersoever, I must wither: Oh thou which art greater than SALOMON do thou clothe me with thy perfect Righteousness, so shall I flourish for ever in the Courts of the House of my God.   

LXXXVI.  
Upon the sight of a Coffin stuck with Flowers.  
TOo fair appearance is never free from just suspicion; whiles here was nothing but mere Wood, no Flower was to be seen here, now that this Wood is lined with an unsavoury Corpse, it is adorned with this sweet variety; the fir whereof that Coffin is made, yields a natural redolence alone; now that it is stuffed thus noysomely, all helps are too little to countervail that sent of corruption; Neither is it otherwise in the living;  
Perpetual use of strong perfumes argues a guiltiness of some unpleasing savour. The case is the same Spiritually; an over-glorious outside of Profession implies some inward filthiness that would fain escape notice; Our uncomely parts have more comeliness put on; Too much ornament imports extreme deformity; For me, let my show be moderate, so shall I neither deceive applause, nor merit too deep censure.   

LXXXVII.  
Upon the view of the World.  
IT is a good thing to see this material World; but it is a better thing to think of the intelligible World; this thought is the sight of the Soul, whereby it discerneth things, like itself, Spiritual, and Immortal; which are so much beyond the worth of these sensible Objects, as a Spirit is beyond a body, a pure substance beyond a corruptible, an infinite God above a finite Creature; O GOD, how great a word is that which the Psalmist says of thee, that thou abasest thyself to behold the things both in Heaven, and Earth?  
It is our glory to look up even to the meanest piece of Heaven; It is an abasement to thine incomprehensible Majesty to look down upon the best of Heaven; Oh, what a transcendent Glory must that needs be, that is abased to behold the things of Heaven? What an happiness shall it be to me, that mine eyes shall be exalted to see thee; who art humbled to see the place, and state of my blessedness: Yea, those very Angels that see thy face, are so resplendantly glorious, that we could not over-live the sight of one of their faces, who are fain to hide their faces from the sight of thine; How many millions of them attend thy Throne above, and thy Footstool below, in the Ministration to thy Saints? It is that thine invisible world, the Communion wherewith can make me truly blessed; Oh GOD, if my body have fellowship here amongst Beasts, of whose earthly substance it participates; Let my Soul be united to thee, the God of Spirits; and be raised up to enjoy the insensible society of thy blessed Angels; Acquaint me beforehand with those Citizens and affairs of thine Heaven; and make me no stranger to my future Glory.   

LXXXVIII.  
Upon the stinging of a Wasp.  
HOw small things may annoy the greatest? even a Mouse troubles an Elephant, a Gnat a Lion; a very Flea may disquiet a Giant; What weapon can be nearer to nothing then the sting of this Wasp? Yet what a painful wound hath it given me; that scarce-visible point how it enuenomes, and rankles, and swells up the flesh? The tenderness of the part adds much to the grief;  
And if I be thus vexed with the touch of an angry Fly, LORD, how shall I be able to endure the sting of a tormenting Conscience? As that part is both most active, and most sensible, so that wound which it receives from itself, is most intolerably grievous; there were more ease in a nest of Harnets', then under this one torture: O GOD, howsover I speed abroad, give me Peace at home; and what ever my flesh suffer, keep my Soul free.  
Thus pained, wherein do I find ease but in laying Honey to the part infected? That Medicine only abates the auguish; How near hath Nature placed the remedy to the offence? Whensoever my heart is stung with the remorse for sin, only thy sweet and precious merits, O blessed Saviour, can mitigate, and heal the wound; they have virtue to cure me, give me grace to apply them; that sovereign receipt shall make my pain happy; I shall thus applaud my grief, It is good for me that I was thus afflicted. * ⁎ *   

LXXXIX.  
Upon the Arraignment of a Felon.  
With what terror doth this Malefactor stand at that Bar? His hand trembles, whiles it is lift up for his trial; his very lips quake, whiles he saith, not guilty; his countenance condemns him before the judge; and his fear is ready to execute him before his Hangman: Yet this judge is but a weak man, that must, soon after, die himself; that sentence of Death, which he can pronounce, is already passed by Nature upon the most innocent; that act of death, which the Law inflicteth by him, is but momentany; who knows whether himself shall not dye more painfully? O God, with what horror shall the guilty Soul stand before thy dreadful Tribunal in the day of the great Assizes of the World? Whiles there is the presence of an infinite Majesty to daunt him; a fierce and clamorous Conscience to give in evidence against him; Legions of ugly, and terrible Devils waiting to seize upon him; a Gulf of unquenchable Fire ready to receive him; whiles the Glory of the judge is no less confounding, than the cruelty of the Torments; Where the Sentence is unavoidable, and the Execution Everlasting, Why do not these terrors of thee, my GOD, make me wise to hold a privy Sessions upon my Soul, and actions; that being acquitted by my own heart, I may not be condemned by thee; and being judged by myself I may not be condemned with the World?   

XC.  
Upon the Crowing of a Cock.  
HOw harshly did this note sound in the ear of PETER; Yea pierced his very hart? Many a time had he heard this bird, and was no whit moved with the noise; now, there was a Bird in his bosom that crowed louder than this; Whose shrill accent conjoined with this, astonished the guilty Disciple:  
The weary labourer when he is awakened from his sweet sleep by this natural Clock of the Household, is not so angry at this troublesome Bird, nor so vexed at the hearing of that unseasonable sound, as PETER was, when this Fowl awakened his sleeping Conscience, and called him to a timely repentance; This Cock did but crow like others; neither made, or knew any difference of this tone, and the rest; there was a divine hand that ordered this Morning's note to be a Summons of Penitence; He that foretell it, had fore-appointed it: that Bird could not but crow then; and all the noise in the High-Priests Hall could not keep that sound from PETER'S ear, But, O SAVIOUR, couldst thou find leisure, when thou stoodst at the Bar of that unjust, and cruel judgement, amidst all that bloody rabble of Enemies, in the sense of all their fury, and the expectation of thine own Death, to listen unto this Monitor of PETER'S Repentance; and upon the hearing of it, to cast back thine eyes upon thy Denying, Cursing, abjuring Disciple? O Mercy without measure; and beyond all the possibility of our Admiration; to neglect thyself for a sinner, to attend the repentance of one, when thou wert about to lay down thy life for all.  
Oh GOD, thou art still equally merciful. Every Elect Soul is no less dear unto thee: Let the sound of thy faithful monitors smite my ears: and let the beams of thy merciful eyes wound my heart, so as I may go forth and weep bitterly. * ⁎ *   

XCI.  
Upon the Variety of thoughts by way of Conclusion.  
When I bethink myself how Eternity depends upon this moment of life, I wonder how I can think of any thing but Heaven: but, when I see the distractions of my thoughts, and the aberrations of my life, I wonder how I can be so bewitched, (as whiles I believe an Heaven) so to forget it. All that I can do, is to be angry at my own vanity. My thoughts would not be so many, if they were all right; there are ten thousand byways for one direct? As there is but one Heaven, so there is but one way to it; that living way, wherein I walk by Faith, by Obedience. All things, the more perfect they are, the more do they reduce themselves towards that unity, which is the Centre of all perfection: Oh thou who art one, and infinite, draw in my heart from all these straggling, and unprofitable Cogitations; and confine it to thine Heaven, and to thyself, who art the Heaven of that Heaven. Let me have no life but in thee, no care but to enjoy thee, no ambition but thy Glory; Oh make me thus imperfectly happy before my time; that when my time shall be no more, I may be perfectly happy with thee to all Eternity.  
FINIS.    

THE TABLE.  

MED. FOLLY.  
1 Upon sight of the Heavens moving. 1.  
2 Upon the sight of a Dial. 4.  
3 Upon sight of an Eclipse. 7.  
4 Upon sight of a gliding Star. 9  
5 Upon a fair prospect 12.  
6 Upon the frame of a Globe casually broken. 16.  
7 Upon a Cloud. 18.  
8 Upon the sight of a Grave digged up. 20  
9 Upon the sight of Gold Melted. 22.  
10 Upon the sight of a Pitcher carried. 24.  
11 Upon sight of a Tree full blossomed. 26.  
12. Upon the report of a man suddenly struck dead in his sin. 28.  
13 Upon the view of the Heaven and the Earth. 30.  
14 Upon occasion of a redbreast coming into his Chamber 32.  
15 Upon occasion of a Spider in his window. 34.  
16. Upon the sight of a Rain in the Sun shine. 38.  
17. Upon the length of the Way. 40.  
18 Upon the Rain and Waters. 42.  
19 Upon the same Subject. 45.  
20 Upon occasion of the lights brought in. 48.  
21 Upon the same occasion. 53.  
22 Upon the blowing of Fire. 54▪  
23 Upon the barking of a Dog. 57  
24 Upon sight of a Cockfight. 59  
25. Upon his lying down to rest. 63.  
26 Upon the kindling of a Charcoal fire. 66.  
27 Upon the sight of an humble and patient Beggar. 69.  
28 Upon the sight of a pulling pulling off Wool from the back of a Crow Sheep. 71.  
29 Upon the sight of two Snails. 73.  
30 Upon the hearing of the Street-cryes in London. 75.  
31 Upon the Flies gathering to a galled Horse. 78.  
32 Upon the sight of a dark Lantern. 80.  
33 Upon the hearing of a Swallow in the Chimmey. 82.  
34 Upon the sight of a Fly burning itself in the Candle. 84.  
35 Upon the sight of a Lark flying up. 87.  
36. Upon the singing of the Birds in a Spring-morning. 89.  
37. Upon a Coal covered with ashes. 91.  
38. Upon the sight of a blackmore. 93.  
39 Upon the small Stars in the Galaxy, or milky Circle in the firmament. 96.  
40 Upon the sight of Boys playing. 98.  
41 Upon the sight of a Spider and her Web. 102.  
42 Upon the sight of a Natural. 104.  
43. Upon the Loadstone and the jet. 107.  
44 Upon the hearing of Music by night. 111.  
45. Upon the fanning of Corn. 112.  
46 Upon Herbs dried. 113.  
47. Upon the quenching of Iron in Water. 115.  
48 Upon a fair coloured fly. 116.  
49. Upon a Glow worm. 117.  
50 Upon the shutting of one Eye. 120.  
51 Upon a Spring water. 121.  
52 Upon Gnats in the Sun. 123.  
53 Upon the sight of Grapes. 125  
54 Upon a Corn field overgrown with Weeds. 126.  
55 Upon the sight of Tulipaes and marigolds in his Garden. 128.  
56 Upon the sound of a craked Bell. 130.  
57 Upon the sight of a blind Man. 132.  
58 Upon a Beech-tree full of Nuts. 135.  
59 Upon the sight of a piece of money under the water. 137.  
60. Upon the first rumour of the Earthquacke at Lime, wherein a Wood was swallowed up with the fall of two Hills. 140.  
61 Upon the sight of a Dormouse. 143.  
62 Upon Bees fight. 145  
63 Upon Wasps falling into a Glass. 149.  
64 Upon a Spring in a wild Forest. 152.  
65 Upon the sight of an Owl in the Twilight. 154.  
66 Upon an arm benumb med. 157.  
67 Upon the sparks flying upward. 159  
68 Upon the sight of a Raven. 162  
69 Upon a Worm. 166.  
70. Upon the putting on of his clothes. 169.  
71 Upon the sight of a great Library. 171.  
72 Upon the red-Crosse on a Door. 175.  
73 Upon the change of Wether. 177  
74 Upon the sight of a Marriage. 180.  
75 Upon the sight of a Snake. 184.  
76 Upon the ruins of an Abbey. 187.  
77 Upon the discharging of a Piece. 190.  
78 Upon the telling of a passing Bell. 193.  
79 Upon a Defamation dispersed. 196  
80 Upon a ring of Bels. 198.  
81 Upon the sight of full Table at a Feast. 201  
82 Upon the hearing of a Lute well played on 204.  
83 Upon the fight and noise of a Peacock. 207.  
84. Upon a penitent Malefactor. 209.  
85. Upon the sight of a Lilly. 211.  
86 Upon the sight of a Coffin stuck with flowers. 214.  
87 Upon the view of the World. 216.  
88 Upon the stinging of a Wasp. 220.  
89 Upon the Arraignment of a Felon. 223.  
90. Upon the Crowing of a Cock. 226.  
91 Upon the variety of thoughts by way of Conclusion. 230.   
FINIS.   

Occasional Meditations, not before set forth.  

XCII.  
Upon the sight of an harlot carted.  
With what noise and tumult, and zeal of solemn justice is this sin punished; the streets are not more full of beholders, than clamours; Every one strives to express his detestation of the fact, by some token of revenge; one casts mire, another water, another rotten eggs upon the miserable offender; neither indeed is she worthy of less: but, in the mean time, no man looks home to himself; it is no uncharity to say, that too many insult in this just punishment, who have deserved more; Alas, we men value sins by the outward scandal, but the wise and holy God (against whom only our sins are done) esteems them according to the intrinsical iniquity of them: and according to the secret violation of his will and justice; thus, those sins which are sleight to us, are to him heinous. We ignorants would have rung David's adultery with Basins, but, as for his numbering of the people, we should have passed it over as venial; The wise justice of the Almighty found more wickedness in this, which we should scarce have accused; Doubtless there is more mischief in a secret infidelity, which the world either cannot know, or cares not to censure, then in the foulest adultery; Public sins have more shame, private may have more guilt; If the world cannot charge me of those; it is enough that I can charge my Soul of worse: let others rejoice in these public executions; Let me pity the sins of others, and be humbled under the sense of my own.   

XCIII.  
Upon the smell of a Rose.  
SMelling is one of the meanest, and least useful of the senses; yet there is none of the five, that receives or gives so exquisite a contentment as it; Me thinks there is no earthly thing that yields so perfect a pleasure to any sense, as the odour of the first rose doth, to the sent: It is the wisdom and bounty of the creator so to order it, that those senses which have more affinity with the body, & with that earth whereof it is made, should receive their delight and contentation by these things which are bred of the earth; but those which are more spiritful, and have more affinity with the Soul, should be reserved for the perfection of their pleasure, to another world; There, and then only, shall my sight make my soul eternally blessed.   

XCIIII.  
Upon a canceled Bond.  
WHiles this obligation was in force, I was in servitude to my parchment; my bond was double, to a payment, to a penalty; now, that is discharged, what is it better than a waste scroll; regarded for nothing but the witness of its own voidance, and nullity. No otherwise is it with the severe Law of my Creator; Out of Christ it stands in full force, and binds me over either to perfect obedience, which I cannot possibly perform, or to exquisite torment, and eternal Death, which I am never able to endure; But now, that my Saviour hath fastened it canceled to his cross (in respect of the rigour & malediction of it) I look upon it as the monument of my past danger and bondage: I know by it, how much was owed by me, how much is paid for me; The direction of it, is everlasting, the obligation (by it) unto death is frustrate: I am free from curse, who never can be free from obedience. O Saviour, take thou glory and give me peace.   

XCV.  
Upon the report of a great loss by Sea.  
THe earth and the water are both of them great givers, and both great takers: As they give matter and sustentation to all sublunary creatures, so they take all back again, insatiably devouring, at last, the fruits of their own wombs. Yet, of the two, the earth is both more beneficial, and less cruel; for, as that yields us the most general maintenance & wealth and supportation; So it doth not lightly take aught from us, but that which we resign over to it, and which naturally falls back unto it; Whereas the water, as it affords but a small part of our live-lode, & some few knacks of ornament So it is apt violently to snatch away both us and ours: and to bereave that which it never gave: it yields us no precious metals, and yet in an instant fetches away millions; And yet, notwithstanding all the hard measure we receive from it, how many do we daily see that might have firm ground under them, who yet will be trusting to the mercy of the Sea; Yea how many that have hardly crawled out from a desperate ship wrack, will yet be trying the fidelity of that unsure, and untrusty element: O God, how venturous we are, where we have reason to distrust, how incredulously fearful, where we have cause to be confident? Who ever relied upon thy gracious providence, and sure promises, O Lord, and hath miscarried? Yet here we pullen our faith, and make excuses for our diffidence; and if Peter have tried those waves to be no other than solid pavement under his feet, whiles his Soul trod confidently; yet when a billow and a wind agree to threaten him, his faith flags, and he begins to sink: O Lord, teach me to doubt where I am sure to find nothing but uncertainty; and to be assuredly confident, where there can be no possibility of any cause of doubting.   

XCVI.  
Upon sight of a bright sky full of stars.  
I Cannot blame Empedocles if he professed a desire to live upon earth, only that he might behold the face of the heavens; surely (if there were no other) this were a sufficient errand for a man's being here below, to see & observe these goodly spangles of light above our heads, their places, their quantities, their motions: but the employment of a Christian is far more noble, and excellent; heaven is open to him; and he can look beyond the veil, and see further above those stars, than it is thither; and there discern those glories, that may answer so rich a pavement; upon the clear sight whereof, I cannot wonder if the chosen vessel desired to leave the earth, in so happy an exchange. O God, I bless thine infiniteness, for what I see with these bodily eyes; but, if thou shalt but draw the curtain and let me by the eye of faith see the inside of that thy glorious frame, I shall need no other happiness here; My Soul cannot be capable of more favour than sight here, and fruition hereafter.   

CVII.  
Upon the rumours of Wars.  
GOod Lord, what a shambles is Christendom becomne of late? How are men killed like flies, and blood poured out like water? Surely the cruelty & ambition of the great have an heavy reckoning to make for so many thousand souls; I condemn not just arms; those are as necessary, as the unjust are hateful; even Michael and his Angels fight; and the style of God is the Lord of Hosts. But woe be to the man by whom the offence cometh; Usurpation of others rights, violation of oaths and contracts, & lastly erroneous zeal are guilty of all these public murders. Private men's injuries are washed off with tears, but wrongs done to Princes and public States are hardly wiped off but with blood. Doubtless that fearful comet did not more certainly portend these wars, than these wars presage the approach of the end of the world; The earth was never without some broils, since it was peopled but with three men; but so universal a combustion was never in the Christian world since it was: O Saviour, what can I think of this, but that, as thou wouldst have a general peace upon thy first coming into the world, so upon thy second coming thou meanest there shall be a no less general war upon earth: that peace made way for thy meek appearance; this war for thy dreadful and terrible.   

XCVIII.  
Upon a Child crying.  
IT was upon great reason, that the Apostle charges us not to be children in understanding. What fools we all once are? Even at first, we cry, and smile we know not wherefore; we have not wit enough to make signs what hurts us, or where we complain; we can wry the mouth, but not seek the breast, and if we want help, we can only lament, and sprawl, and dye. After, when some months have taught us to distinguish a little betwixt things, and persons, we cry for every toy; even that, which may most hurt us; and, when there is no other cause, we cry only to hear our own noise, and are strait stilled with a greater; & if it be but upon the breeding of a tooth, we are so wayward, that nothing will please us; and if some formerly-liked knack be given to quiet us, we cast away that which we have, if we have not what we would seem to like. We fear neither fire, nor water, nothing scars us but either a rod or a feigned bugbear; we mis-know our parents; not acknowledging any friend but the Tailor, that brings us a fine coat, or the Nurse that dresses us gay; The more that our riper years resemble these dispositions, the more childish we are, and more worthy both of our own and others censure.  
But again, it was upon no less reason that the Apostle charges us, to be children in maliciousness: Those little innocents bear no grudge; they are sooner pleased, then angry; And if any man have wronged them, let them but have given a stroke unto the Nurse, to beat the offender, it is enough; at the same instant they put forth their hand for reconcilement, and offer themselves unto those arms that trespassed. And when they are most froward, they are stilled with a pleasant song: The old word is, that an old man is twice a child; but I say, happy is he that is thus a child always. It is a great imperfection to want knowledge, but of the two, it is better to be a child in understanding, than a man in maliciousness.   

XCIX.  
Upon the beginning of a sickness.  
IT was my own fault, if I looked not for this; All things must undergo their changes; I have enjoyed many fair days; there was no reason I should not at last make account of clouds, and storms; Could I have done well, without any mixtures of sin; I might have hoped for entire health; But, since I have interspersed my obedience with many sinful failings, and enormities, why do I think much, to interchange health with sickness? What I now feel I know; I am not worthy to know what I must feel; As my times, so my measures are in the hands of a wise and good God; My comfort is, he that sends these evils, proportions them; If they be sharp, I am sure they are just; the most that I am capable to endure, is the least part of what I have deserved to suffer: Nature would sayne be at ease; but, Lord what ever become of this carcase, thou hast reason to have respect to thine own glory; I have sinned and must smart; It is the glory of thy mercy to beat my body for the safety of my soul. The worst of sickness is pain, and the worst of pain is but death: As for pain, if it be extreme, it cannot be long; and if it be long ' (such is the difference of earthly, and hellish torments) it cannot be extreme; As for death, it is both unavoidable, and beneficial; there ends my misery, and begins my glory; A few groans are well bestowed for a preface to an immortal joy. Howsoever, O God, thy messenger is worthy to be welcome; It is the Lord, let him do whatsoever he will.   

C.  
Upon the challenge of a promise.  
IT is true; an honest man's word must be his master; when I have promised I am indebted, and debts may be claimed; must be paid; but yet, there is a great deal of difference in our engagements; Some things we promise because they are due; some things are only due, because they are promised. These latter, which are but the mere engagements of courtesy, cannot so absolutely bind us, that notwithstanding any intervention of unworthiness, or misbehaviour in the person expectant, We are tied to make our word good; though to the cutting of our own throats. All favourable promises presuppose a capacity in the receiver; where that palpably faileth, common equity sets us free; I promised to send a fair sword to my friend; he is, since that time turned frantic; must I send it, or be charged with unfaithfulness, if I send it not? O God, thy title is the God of truth, thou canst no more cease to be faithful, then to be; How oft hast thou promised, that no good thing shall be wanting to thine, and yet we know thy dearest children have complained of want? Is thy word therefore challengable? far, far, be this wicked presumption from our thoughts. No: These thy promises of outward favours are never but with a subintelligence of a condition: of our capableness, of our expedience. Thou seest that plenty, or ●ase would be our bane; thy love forbears to satisfy us with an harmful blessing: We are worthy to be plagued with prejudicial kindnesses, if we do not acknowledge thy wisdom, and care in our want. It is enough for us that thy best mercies are our dues, because thy promises; we cannot too much claim that which thou hast absolutely engaged thyself to give, and in giving shalt make us eternally happy.   

CI.  
Upon the sight of flies.  
WHen I look upon these flies; and gnats, and worms, I have reason to think; What am I to my infinite Creator more than these? And if these had my reason, why might they not expostulate with their Maker, Why they are but such; why they live to so little purpose, and dye without either notice or use; and if I had no more reason than they, I should be (as they) content with any condition; That reason which I have, is not of my own giving; he that hath given me reason, might as well have given it to them; or, have made me as reasonless as they; there is no cause why his greater gift should make me mutinous, and malcontent; I will thank my God for what I am, for what I have; and never quarrel with him, for what I want.   

CII.  
Upon the sight of a fantastical Zealot.  
IT is not the intent of grace to mould our bodies anew, but to make use of them, as it finds us; the disposition of men much follows the temper of their bodily humours. This mixture of humours, wrought upon by grace, causeth that strange variety, which we see in professions pretendedly religious; when grace lights upon a sad melancholic Spirit, nothing is affected but sullenness, and extreme mortification; and dislike even of lawful freedom; nothing but positions, and practices of severe austerity; when contrarily, upon the cheerful and lively; all draws towards liberty and joy, those thoughts do now please best, which enlarge the heart to mirth, and contentation; It is the greatest improvement of Christian wisdom to distinguish (in all professions) betwixt grace and humour; to give God his own glory, and men their own infirmities.   

CIII.  
Upon the sight of a Scavenger working in the channel.  
THe wise providence of God hath fitted men with spirits answerable to their condition; If mean men should bear the minds of great Lords, no servile works would be done; all would be commanders, and none could live; If contrarily, great persons had the low spirits of drudges, there could be no order, no obedience; because there should be none to command; now, out of this discord of dispositions, God hath contrived an excellent harmony of government, and peace: since the use which each sort must needs have of other, binds them to maintain the quality of their own ranks; and to do those offices which are requisite for the preservation of themselves, and the public. As inferiors then must bless God for the graces and authority of their betters; So must Superiors no less bless him for the humility and serviceableness of the meaner; and those which are of the midrank, must bless him for both.   

CIIII  
Upon a pair of Spectacles.  
I Look upon these, not as objects, but as helps; as not meaning that my sight should rest in them; but pass through them; and by their aid, discern some other things which I desire to see; many such glasses my soul hath and useth: I look through the glass of the creatures, at the power and wisdom of their maker: I look through the glass of the Scriptures at the great mystery of redemption and the glory of an heavenly inheritance; I look through God's favours, at his infinite mercy; through his judgements, at his incomprehensible justice; but as these spectacles of mine presuppose a faculty in the eye, and cannot give me sight when I want it, but only clears that sight which I have; no more can these glasses of the creatures, of Scriptures, of favours and judgements enable me to apprehend those blessed objects, except I have an eye of faith whereto they may be presented; these helps to an unbelieving man, are but as spectacles to the blind. As the natural eyes, so the spiritual have their degrees of dimness; but I have ill improved my age, if, as my natural eyes decay, my spiritual eye be not cleared and confirmed; but at my best I shall never but need spectacles, till I come to see as I am seen.   

CV.  
Upon moats in the Sun.  
How these little moats move up and down in the Sun, and never rest, whereas the great mountains stand ever still, and move not, but with an earthquake; even so light and busy spirits are in continual agitation, to little purpose; whiles great deep wits sit still, and stir not, but upon extreme occasions: were the motion of these little atoms as useful, as it is restless, I had rather be a moat then▪ a mountain.   

CVI  
Upon the sight of a bladder.  
EVery thing must be taken in his meet time; let this bladder alone till it be dry, and all the wind in the world cannot raise it up, whereas, now it is new, and moist, the least breath fills, and enlarges it; it is no otherwise in ages, and dispositions; inform the child in precepts of learning & virtue, whiles years make him capable, how plyably he yieldeth, how happily is he replenished with knowledge and goodness; let him alone, till time and ill example have hardened him; till he be settled in an habit of evil, and contracted, and clung together with sensual delights, now he becomes utterly indocible; sooner may that bladder be broken then distended.   

CVII.  
Upon a man sleeping.  
I Do not more wonder at any man's art, then at his, who professes to think of nothing, to do nothing: and I do not a little marvel at that man who says he can sleep without a dream; for the mind of man is a restless thing: & though it give the body leave to repose itself, as knowing it is a mortal & earthly piece, yet itself being a spirit, and therefore active, and indefatigable, is ever in motion: give me a sea that moves not, a Sun that shines not, an open eye that sees not; and I shall yield there may be a reasonable soul that works not: It is possible that through a natural, or accidental stupidity, a man may not perceive his own thoughts; (as sometimes the eye or ear may be distracted, not to discern his own objects) but in the mean time, he thinks that, whereof he cannot give an account; like as we many times dream when we cannot report our fancy. I should more easily put myself to school unto that man, who undertakes the profession of thinking many things at once: Instantany motions are more proper for a spirit, than a dull rest. Since my mind will needs be ever working, it shall be my care that it may always be well employed.   

CVIII.  
Upon the sight of a deaths-head.  
I Wonder at the practice of the ancient both Greeks, and Romans, whose use was to bring up a deaths-head in the midst of their feasts, on purpose to stir up their guests, to drink harder, and to frolic more; the sight whereof, one would think should have rather abated their courage, and have tempered their jollity; but however it was with them, who believed there was nothing after death; that the consideration of the short time of their pleasures, and being, spurred them on to a free and full fruition of that mirth and excess, which they should not long live to enjoy; yet to us that are Christians, and therefore know that this short life doth but make way for an eternity of joy, or torment afterwards, and that after the feast, we must account of a reckoning; there cannot be a greater cooler for the heat of our intemperate desires, and rage of our appetites, than the meditation of the shortness of life, and the certainty of death: Who would over-pamper a body for the worms? who would be so mad as to let himself loose to that momentany pleasure of sin, which, ere long, must cost him everlasting pain, and misery. For me, me thinks this head speaks no other language than this; Leese no time, thou art dying, do thy best, thou mayst do good but a while, and shalt far well for ever.   

CIX.  
Upon the sight of a lefthanded man.  
IT is both an old and easy observation, that however the senses are alike strong, and active on the right side, and on the left; yet that the limbs on the right side are stronger than those of the left; because they are more exercised than the other; upon which self same reason it must follow, that a lefthanded man hath more strength in his left arm, then in his right; neither is it otherwise in the soul: our intellectual parts grow vigorous with employment, and languish with disuse: I have known excellent preachers, and pregnant disputants that have lost these faculties with lack of action; and others, but meanly qualified with natural gifts, that have attained to a laudable measure of abilities, by improvement of their little. I had rather lack good parts, than that good parts should lack me; Not to have great gifts is no fault of mine, it is my fault not to use them.   

CX.  
Upon the sight of an old unthached Cottage.  
THere cannot be a truer emblem of crazy old age; Moldred and clay walls; a thin, uncovered roof; bending studds; dark and broken windows; in short, an house ready to fall on the head of the indweller: The best body is but a cottage; if newer, and better timbered, yet such as age will equally impair, and make thus ragged, & ruinous; or, before that, perhaps casualty of fire or tempest; or violence of an enemy; One of the chief cares of men is to dwell well; some build for themselves, fair, but not strong; others build for posterity, strong but not fair, not high; but happy is that man that builds for eternity, as strong, as fair, as high as the glorious contignations of heaven.   

CXI.  
Upon the sight of a fair pearl.  
What a pure and precious creature is this, which yet is taken out of the mud of the sea; Who can complain of a base original, when he sees such excellencies so descended? These shelfish that have no sexes, and therefore are made out of corruption, what glorious things they yield, to adorn and make proud the greatest princesses? God's great works go not by likelihoods; how easily can he fetch glory out of obscurity, who brought all out of nothing?   

CXII.  
Upon a screen.  
ME thinks this screen, that stands betwixt me and the fire, is like some good friend at the Court, which keeps from me the heat of the unjust displeasure of the great; wherewith I might perhaps otherwise be causelessly scorched; but how happy am I, if the interposition of my Saviour, my best friend in heaven, may screen me from the deserved wrath of that great God, who is a consuming fire?   

CXIII.  
Upon a Burre-leafe.  
NEither the vine, nor the oak, nor the Cedar, nor any tree, that I know, within our climate, yields so great a leaf as this weed, which yet, after all expectation, brings forth nothing but a burr, unprofitable, troublesome; So have I seen none make greater profession of religion, than an ignorant man; whose indiscreet forwardness yields no fruit but a factious disturbance to the Church, wherein he lives; Too much show is not so much better than none at all, as an ill fruit is worse than none at all.   

CXIV.  
Upon the singing of a Bird.  
IT is probable that none of those creatures that want reason, delight so much in pleasant sounds, as a bird; Whence it is, that both it spends so much time in singing; and is more apt to imitate those modulations which it hears from men; Frequent practice (if it be voluntary) argues a delight in that which we do; and delight makes us more apt to practise; and more capable of perfection in that we practise; Oh God, if I take pleasure in thy law, I shall meditate of it with comfort, speak of it with boldness, and practise it with cheerfulness.   

CXV.  
Upon the sight of a man Yawning.  
IT is a marvellous thing to see the real effects and strong operation of consent, or Sympathye, even where there is no bodily touch; So one sad man puts the whole company into dumps; So one man's yawning affects, and stretches the jaws of many beholders; So, the looking upon blear eyes taints the eye with blearenesse; From hence it is easy to see the ground of our Saviour's expostulation with his persecutor; Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me? The Church is persecuted below, he feels it above, and complains; So much as the person is more apprehensive, must he needs be more affected. O Saviour, thou canst not but be deeply sensible of all our miseries and necessities. If we do not feel thy wrongs, and the wants of our brethren, we have no part in thee.   

CXVI.  
Upon the sight of a tree lopped.  
IN the lopping of these trees, experience, and good husbandry hath taught men to leave one bough still growing in the top; the better to draw up the sap from the root; The like wisdom is fit to be observed in censures; which are intended altogether for reformation, not for destruction; So must they be inflicted, that the patient be not utterly discouraged, and stripped of hope, and comfort; but that, whiles he suffereth, he may feel his good tendered, and his amendment both aimed at, and expected. O God if thou shouldest deal with me as I deserve, thou shouldst not only shred my boughs, but cut down my stock, and stock up my root; and yet thou dost but prune my superfluous branches, and cherishest the rest; how unworthy am I of this mercy, if whiles thou art thus indulgent unto me, I be severe and cruel to others, perhaps lesse-ill-deserving than myself?   

CXVII.  
Upon a Scholar that offered violence to himself.  
HAd this man lain long under some eminent discontentment, it had been easy to find out the motive of his miscarriage; Weak nature is easily over-laid with impatience; it must be only the power of grace, that can grapple with vehement evils, and master them: But here the world cannot say what could be guilty of occasioning this violence; this man's hand was full; his fame untainted; his body no burden; his disposition (for aught we saw) fair; his life guiltless; yet something did the tempter find to aggravate unto his feeble thoughts, and to represent worthy of a dispatch; What a poor thing is life, whereof so slight occasions can make us weary? What impotent wretches are we when we are not sustained? One would think this the most impossible of all motions; naturally, every man loves himself; and life is sweet, death abhorred; What is it that Satan can despair to preswade men unto, if he can draw them to an unnatural abandoning of life, and pursuit of death: Why should I doubt of prevailing with my own heart, by the powerful overruling of God's spirit, to contemn life, and to affect death, for the sake of my Saviour (in exchange of a few miserable moments, for eternity of joy) when I see men, upon an unreasonable suggestion of that evil spirit, cast away their lives for nothing, and so hastening their temporal death, that they hazard an eternal?   

CXVIII.  
Upon the coming in of the judge.  
THe construction of men and their actions is altogether according to the disposition of the lookers on. The same face of the Judge without any inward alteration, is seen with terror by the guilty, with joy and confidence, by the oppressed innocent; like as the same lips of the bridegroom drop both myrrh and honey at once; honey to the well disposed heart; myrrh to the rebellious: And the same cup relishes well to the healthful, and distastes the feverous; the same word is, though a sweet, yet a contrary savour to the different receivers: and the same Sun comforts the strong sight, dazzles the weak; For a man to affect either to do, or speak that which may be pleasing to all men, is but a weak and idle ambition, when we see him that is infinitely good, appear terrible to more, than he appears lovely. Goodness is itself with what ever eyes it is looked upon: There can be no safety for that man that regards more the censure of men, than the truth of being; He that seeks to win all hearts, hath lost his own.   

CXIX.  
Upon the sight of a heap of stones.  
Under such a pile it was, that the first martyr was buried; none of all the ancient Kings had so glorious a tomb; here were many stones, and every one precious; jacob leaned his head upon a stone, and saw that heavenly vision of Angels ascending, and descending: Many stones light upon Stevens head, in the instant of his seeing the heavens opened; and Jesus standing at the right hand of God: Lo, jacob, resting upon that one stone, saw but the Angels; Steven being to rest for once under those many stones, saw the Lord of the Angels, jacob saw the Angels moving; Steven saw Jesus standing; As jacob therefore afterwards, according to his vow, made there an altar to God; so Steven now in the present, gathers these stones together, of which he erected an holy altar, whereon he offered up himself a blessed sacrifice unto God; and if there be a time of gathering stones, and a time of casting them away; this was the time wherein the Jews cast, and Steven gathered up these stones for a monument of eternal glory: O blessed Saint, thou didst not so clearly see heaven opened, as heaven saw thee covered; thou didst not so perfectly see thy Jesus standing, as he saw thee lying, patiently, courageously under that fatal heap: Do I mistake it, or are those stones, not flints and pebbles, but diamonds and rubies, & carbuncles to set upon thy crown of glory?   

CXX.  
Upon sight of a Bat and Owl.  
THese night-birds are glad to hide their heads all day, and if by some violence they be unseasonably forced out of their secrecy, how are they followed, and beaten by the birds of the day? With us men it is contrary, the sons of darkness do with all eagerness of malice pursue the children of the light: and drive them into corners, and make a prey of them: the opposition is alike, but the advantage lies on the worse side; Is it for that the spiritual light is no less hateful to those children of darkness, than the natural night is to those cheerful birds of the day? Or is it for that the sons of darkness, challenging no less propriety in the world, than the fowls do in the lightsome air, abhor and wonder at the conscionable, as strange and uncouth: howsoever, as these Bats and Owls were made for the night, being accordingly shaped, foul, and ill-favoured; so we know these vicious men, (how ever they may please themselves) have in them a true deformity; fit to be shrouded in darkness; and as they delight in the works of darkness, so they are justly reserved to a state of darkness.   

CXXI.  
Upon the sight of a well-fleeced sheep.  
What a warm winter coat hath God provided for this quiet innocent creature? as indeed, how wonderful is his wisdom and goodness in all his purveiances; those creatures which are apt for motion, and withal most fearful by nature, hath he clad somewhat thinner, and hath allotted them safe and warm boroughs within the earth; those that are fit for labour and use, hath he furnished with a strong hide: & for man whom he hath thought good to bring forth naked, tender, helpless; he hath endued his parents, and himself with that noble faculty of reason, whereby he may provide all manner of helps for himself; Yet again so bountiful is God in his provisions, that he is not lavish; so distributing his gifts, that there is no more superfluity, than want; Those creatures that have beaks, have no teeth; and those that have shells without, have no bones within; All have enough, nothing hath all: Neither is it otherwise in that one kind of man, whom he meant for the Lord of all; Variety of gifts is here mixed with a frugal dispensation; None hath cause to boast, none to complain; Every man is as free from an absolute defect, as from perfection; I desire not to comprehend, O Lord, teach me to do nothing but wonder.   

CXXII.  
Upon the hearing of Thunder.  
THere is no grace whereof I find so general a want in myself, and others, as an awful fear of the infinite majesty of God; Men are ready to affect, and profess a kind of familiarity with God, out of a pretence of love, whereas if they knew him aright, they could not think of him without dread, nor name him without trembling; their narrow hearts strive to conceive of him, according to the scantling of their own strait, and ignorant apprehension; whereas they should only desire to have their thoughts swallowed up with an adoring wonder of his divine incomprehensibleness; though he thunder not always, he is always equally dreadful; there is none of his works which doth not bewray omnipotency: I blush at the sauciness of vain men, that will be circumscribing the powerful acts of the Almighty within the compass of natural causes; forbearing to wonder at what they profess to know; Nothing but ignorance can be guilty of this boldness; There is no divinity but in an humble fear, no philosophy but in a silent admiration.   

CXXIII.  
Upon the sight of an hedgehog.  
I Marvelled at the first reading, what the greeks meant by that proverb of theirs; The Fox knows many pretty wiles, but the hedgehog knows one great one: but when I considered the nature, and practise of this creature, I easily found the reason of that speech, grounded upon the care, and shift that it makes for its own preservation; whiles it is under covert it knows how to bar the foredoor against the cold Northern, and Eastern blasts; and to open the backdoor for quieter and calmer air; When it is pursued, it knows how to roll up itself round, within those thorns with which nature hath environed it, so as the dog, in stead of a beast, finds now nothing but a ball of pricks, to wound his jaws; and goes away crying from so untoothsome a prey: He that sent the sluggard to school to the pismire, sends also in effect the careless and imprudent man to the hedgehog; whiles he saith, if thou be wise thou shalt be wise for thyself: The main care of any creature is self-preservation; whatsoever doth that best, is the wisest. These creatures that are all body, have well improved the instincts of nature, if they can provide for their bodily safety; Man, that is a reasonable Soul, shall have done nothing, if he make not sure work for the better part. O God, make me Soule-wise, I shall never envy their craft, that pity my simplicity.   

CXXIV.  
Upon the sight of a Goat.  
THis creature is in an ill name; it is not for any good qualities, that God hath made choice of the goat, to resemble the wicked and reprobate soul; It is unruly, and salacious, and noisome; I cannot see one of them, but I presently recall to my thoughts the woeful condition of those on the left hand; whom God hath set aside to so fearful a damnation. They are here mixed with the flock, their colour differs nothing from the sheep; or if we do discern them, by their rougher coat, and odious sent, we sever ourselves from them; but the time shall come, when he shall sever them from us, who hath appointed our innocence to the fold, and their harmfulness to an everlasting slaughter. Onwards, if they climb higher than we, and feed upon those craggy cliffs which we dare scarce reach to with our eyes; their boldness is not greater than their danger, neither is their ascent more perilous, than their ruin deadly.   

CXXV.  
Upon the sight of the blind and the lame.  
HEre is a true natural commerce of senses; The blind man hath legs; the lame man hath eyes; the lame man lendes his eyes to the blind, the blind man lendes, his legs to the lame; and now both of them move; where otherwise, both must sit still, and perish; it is hard to say whether is more beholden to other; the one gives strength, the other direction; both of them equally necessary to motion; though it be not in other cases so sensible, yet surely this very traffic of faculties is that, whereby we live, neither could the world subsist without it; one man lends a brain, another an arm; one a tongue, another an hand; he that knows wherefore he made all, hath taken order to improve every part to the benefit of the whole; What do I wish aught that is not useful? And if there be any thing in me that may serve to the good of others, it is not mine, but the Church: I cannot live but by others, it were injurious if others should not likewise share with me.   

CXXVI.  
Upon the sight of a Map of the World.  
WHat a poor little spot is a country? A man may hide with his thumb, the great territories of those, that would be accounted Monarches. In vain should the great Cham, or the great Mogul, or Prester John seek here for his Court; it is well, if he can find his kingdom, amongst these parcels: And, if we take all together these shreds of Lands, and these patches of Continent, what a mere indivisible point they are in comparison of that vast circle of heaven wherewith they are encompassed? It is not easy for a man to be known to that whole land wherein he lives: but if he could be so famous, the next country perhaps never hears of his name: and if he can attain to be talked of there, yet the remoter parts cannot take notice that there is such a thing: and if they did all speak of nothing else, what were he the better? Oh the narrow bounds of earthly glory: Oh the vain affectation of humane applause: Only that man is happily famous, who is known, & recorded in heaven.   

CXXVII.  
Upon the sight of hemlock.  
THere is no creature of itself, evil: mis-application may make the best, so: and there is a good use to be made of the worst: This weed which is too well proved to be poisonous, yet to the Goat is medicinal: as serving by the coldness of it, to temper the feverons heat of that beast: so we see the Marmoset eating of spiders, both for pleasure, and cure: Our ignorance may not bring a scandal upon God's workmanship, or if it do, his wisdom knows how to make a good use even of our injury: I cannot say but the very venom of the creatures is to excellent purpose, how much more their beneficial qualities? If ought hurt us, the fault is ours, in mistaking the evil for good: in the mean time we owe praise to the maker and to the creature a just and thankful allowance.   

CXXVIII.  
Upon a Flower-de-luce.  
THis flower is but unpleasingly fulsome for scent, but the root of it is so fragrant, that the delicatest Ladies are glad to put it into their sweet bags: contrarily the rosetree hath a sweet flower, but a savourlesse root, and the saffron yields an odoriferous and cordial spire, whiles both the flower, and the root are unpleasing: It is with vegetables, as with metals, God never meant to have his best always in view; neither meant he to have all eminences concealed. He would have us to know him to be both secretly rich, and openly bountiful. If we do not use every grace in its own kind, God leeses the thanks, and we the benefit.   

CXXIX.  
Upon the sight of two trees, one high, the other broad.  
Those trees that shoot up in height are seldom broad; as contrarily, those trees that are spreading, are seldom tall: it were too much ambition in that plant, which would be both ways eminent: Thus it is with men; The covetous man that affects to spread in wealth, seldom cares to aspire unto height of honour: the proud man, whose heart it set upon preferment, regards not (in comparison thereof) the growth of his wealth: There is a poor shrub in a valley; that is neither tall nor broad, nor cares to be either, which speeds better than they both: the tall tree is cut down, for timber, the broad tree is lopped for firewood: besides that the tempest hath power on them both, whereas the low shrub is neither envied by the wind, nor threatened by the axe, but fostered rather, for that little shelter, which it affords the shepherd: If there be glory in greatness, meanness hath security: Let me never envy their diet, that had rather be unsafe, then inglorious.   

CXXX.  
Upon the sight of a drunkenman.  
REason is an excellent faculty; and indeed, that which alone differenceth us from brute creatures; without which what is man but a two-legged beast? and, as all precious things are tender, and subject to miscarriage, so is this above others; the want of some little sleep, the violence of a fever, or one cup too much puts it into utter distemper; What can we make of this thing (Man I cannot call him?) He hath shape; so hath a dead corpse, as well as he; he hath life, so hath a beast as well as he; Reason, either for the time he hath not, or, if he have it, he hath it so depraved, and marred for the exercise of it, that brutishness is much less ill-beseeming; Surely, the natural bestiality is so much less odious than the moral, as there is difference in the causes of both; That is of Gods making, this of our own It is no shame to the beast, that God hath made him so, it is a just shame to a man, that he hath made himself a beast.   

CXXXI.  
Upon the whetting of a scythe.  
REcreation is intended to the mind, as whetting is to the scythe; to sharpen the edge of it; which otherwise would grow dull, and blunt; he therefore that spends his whole time in recreation, is ever whetting, never mowing; his grass may grow, and his steed starve; as contrarily he that always toils, and never recreates, is ever mowing, never whetting; labouring much to little purpose: as good no scythe, as no edge: Then only doth the work go forward, when the scythe is so seasonably, and moderately whetted, that it may cut, and so cuts that it may have the help of sharpening: I would so interchange, that I neither be dull with work, nor idle and wanton with recreation.   

CXXXII.  
Upon the sight of a lookingglass.  
When I look in another man's face, I see that man, and that man sees me, as I do him: but when I look in my glass, I do not see myself: I see only an image or representation of myself: howsoever it is like me, yet it is not I: it is for an ignorant child to look behind the glass, to find out the babe that he seeth: I know it is not there: and that the resemblance varies according to the dimness, or different fashion of the glass. At our best, we do but thus see God here below: One sees him more clearly, another more obscurely: but all in a glass: Hereafter, we shall see him, not as he appears, but as he is: So shall we see him in the face, as he sees us: The face of our glorified Spirits shall see the glorious face of him who is the God of Spirits: In the mean time, the proudest dame shall not more ply her glass, to look upon that face of hers, which she thinks beautiful, than I shall gaze upon the clearest glass of my thoughts, to see that face of God, which I know to be infinitely fair, and glorious.   

CXXXIII.  
Upon the shining of a piece of rotten wood.  
HOw bright doth this wood shine? When it is in the fire, it will not so beam forth, as it doth in this cold darkness: What an emblem is here of our future estate? This piece, whiles it grew in the tree, shone not at all, now that it is putrified, it casts forth this pleasing lustre: Thus it is with us: whiles we live here, we neither are, nor seem other then miserable: When we are dead once, then begins our glory, then doth the soul shine in the brightness of heavenly glory, then doth our good name shine upon earth in those beams which before envy had either held in, or overcast.  
Why are we so over-desirous of our growth, when we may be thus advantaged by our rottenness?   

CXXXIV.  
Upon an Yvie tree.  
BEhold a true Emblem of false love: here are kind embracements, but deadly: how close doth this weed cling unto that Oak, and seems to hug, and shade it? but in the mean time draws away the sap, and at last kills it: Such is an harlot's love, such is a parafites: Give me that love, and friendship, which is between the vine, and the elm, whereby the elm is no whit worse, and the vine much the better: That wholesome and noble plant doth not so close wind itself about the tree, that upholds it, as to gall the bark, or to suck away the moisture: and again the elm yields a beneficial supportation to that weak (though generous) plant. As God, so wise men know to measure love, not by profession, and compliment, (which is commonly most high, and vehement in the falsest) but by reality of performance: He is no enemy that hurts me not: I am not his friend whom I desire not to benefit.   

CXXXV.  
Upon a quartan ague.  
I Have known when those things, which have made an healthful man sick, have been the means of making a sick man, whole. The quartan hath of old been justly styled the shame of Physicians: Yet, I have more than once observed it to be cured by a surfeit: One devil is sonetime used for the ejection of another; Thus have I also seen it in the sickness of the Soul: The same God whose justice is wont to punish sin with sin; even his mercy doth so use the matter, that he cures one sin by another; So have we known a proud man healed by the shame of his uncleanness: a furious man healed by a rash bloodshed. It matters not greatly what the medicine be, whiles the Physician is infinitely powerful, infinitely skilful; What danger can there be of my safety, when God shall heal me, as well by evil, as by good?   

CXXXVI.  
Upon the sight of a loaded cart.  
IT is a passionate expression, wherein God bemoanes himself of the sins of Israel, Ye have pressed me as a cart is pressed with sheaves; An empty cart runs lightly away, but if it be sound laden, it goes sadly, sets hard, groans under the weight, and makes deep impressions; the wheels creak, and the axletree bends, and all the frame of it is put unto the utmost stress, He that is onnipotent can bear any thing but too much sin; his Justice will not let his mercy be over-strained; No marvel if a guilty Soul say, Mine iniquity is greater than I can bear; When the infinite God complains of the weight of men's sins; But, let not vain men think that God complains, out of the want of power, but, out of the abundance of mercy: He cannot be the worse for our sins; we are. It grieves him to be over-provoked to our punishment; Then doth He accounted the cart to crack, yea to break, when he is urged to break forth into just vengeance; O Saviour, the sins of the whole world lay upon thee, thou sweatedst blood under the load: what would become of me, if I should bear but one sheaf of that load; every ear whereof, yea every grain of that ear were enough to press down my Soul to the nethermost hell?   

CXXXVII.  
Upon the sight of a Dwarf.  
AMongst all the bounteous gifts of God, what is it that he hath equally bestowed upon all? except it be our very being, whiles we are; he hath not given to all men the same stature of body, not the same strength of wit, not the same capacity of memory, not the same beauty of parts, not the same measure of wealth, or honour; thus hath he done also in matter of grace: there are spiritual dwarves, there are giants; there are perfect men, children, babes, embryos; this inequality doth so much more praise the mercy, and wisdom of the giver, and exercise the charity, and thankfulness of the receiver; the essence of our humanity doth not consist in stature; he that is little of growth, is as much man, as he that is taller; Even so also spiritually, the quantity of grace doth not make the Christian, but the truth of it. I shall be glad, and ambitious to add cubits to my height; but withal it shall comfort me to know, that I cannot be so low of stature, as not to reach unto heaven.   

CXXXVIII.  
Upon an importunate Beggar.  
IT was a good rule of him that bade us learn to pray of beggars; with what zeal doth this man sue, with what feeling expressions, with how forceable importunity? When I meant to pass by him with silence, yet his clamour draws words from me; when I speak to him, though with excuses, rebukes, denials, repulses, his obsecrations, his adjurations draw from me that alms which I meant not to give; how he uncovers his sores, & shows his impotence, that my eyes may help his tongue to plead; With what oratory doth he force my compassion? so as it is scarce any thank to me that he prevails. Why do I not thus to my God? I am sure I want no less than the neediest; the danger of my want is greater; the alms that I crave, is better, the store and mercy of the giver infinitely more, Why shouldst thou give me, O God, that which I care not to ask? Oh give me a true sense of my wants, and then I cannot be cool in ask, thou canst not be difficult in condescending.   

CXXXIX.  
Upon a medicinal potion.  
HOw loathsome a draught is this? how offensive, both to the eye and to the sent, and to the taste? yea, the very thought of it, is a kind of sickness; &, when it is once down, my very disease is not so painful, for the time, as my remedy; how doth it turn the stomach, and wring the entrayles, and works a worse distemper, then that whereof I formerly complained; And yet, it must be taken for health; neither could it be so wholesome, if it were less unpleasing; neither could it make me whole, if it did not first make me sick.  
Such are the chastisements of God, and the reproofs of a friend; harsh, troublesome, grievous; but in the end they yield the peaceable fruit of righteousness.  
Why do I turn away my head, and make faces, and shut mine eyes; and stop my nostrils, and nauseate, and abhor to take this harmless potion for health, when we have seen Mountebanks to swallow dismembered toads, and drink the poisonous broth after them, only for a little ostentation, and gain? It is only weakness, and want of resolution that is guilty of this queasiness; Why do not I cheerfully take, and quaff up that bitter cup of affliction, which my wise and good God hath mixed for the health of my soul?   

CXL.  
Upon the sight of a wheel.  
THe Prophet meant it for no other than a fearful imprecation against God's enemies, O my God, make them like unto a wheel; whereby what could he intend to signify, but instability of condition, and sudden violence of judgement; Those spokes of the wheel that are now up, are, sooner than sight or thought whirled down; and are strait raised up again, on purpose to be depressed; Neither can there be any motion so rapid, and swift, as the circular. It is a great favour of God that he takes leisure in his affliction, so punishing us that we have respites of repentance: there is life and hope in these degrees of suffering; but, those hurrying and whirling judgements of God, have nothing in them but wrath, and confusion. O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger; I cannot deprecate thy rebuke; my sins call for correction; but I deprecate thine anger; thou rebukest even where thou lovest; so rebuke me, that whiles I smart with thy rod, I may rejoice in thy mercy. * ⁎ *  
FINIS.    

The Table.  

MED. FOLLY.  
92 Upon the sight of an harlot carted. 233  
93 Upon the smell of a rose. 236  
94 Upon a cancelled bond. 238  
95 Upon the report of a great loss by Sea. 240  
96 Upon sight of a bright sky full of stars. 244  
97 Upon the rumours of Wars. 246  
98 Upon a child crying. 249  
99 Upon the beginning of a sickness. 253  
100 Upon the challenge of a promise. 256  
101 Upon the sight of flies. 260  
102 Upon the sight of a fantastical Zealot. 262  
103 Upon the sight of a Scavenger working in the channel. 264  
104 Upon a pair of Spectacles. 266  
105 Upon motes in the sun. 269  
106 Upon the sight of a bladder. 270  
107 Upon a man sleeping. 271  
108 Upon the sight of a deaths-head. 274  
109 Upon the sight of a lefthanded man. 277  
110 Upon the sight of an old unthached Cottage. 279  
111 Upon the sight of a fair pearl. 281  
112 Upon a screen. 282  
113 Upon a Bur-leafe. 283  
114 Upon the singing of a Bird. 285  
115 Upon the sight of a man Yawning. 285  
116 Upon the sight of a tree lopped. 288  
117 Upon a Scholar that offered violence to himself. 290  
118 Upon the coming in of the judge. 293  
119 Upon the sight of an heap of stones 296  
120 Upon the sight of a Bat and Owl. 299  
121 Upon the sight of a well-fleeced sheep. 301  
122 Upon the hearing of Thunder. 304  
123 Upon the sight of an Hedge hog. 307  
124 Upon the sight of a Goat. 310  
125 Upon the sight of the blind and the lame. 312  
126 Upon the sight of a Map of the World. 314  
127 Upon the sight of hemlock. 317  
128 Upon a Floure-de luce. 319  
129 Upon the sight of two trees, one high, the other broad. 320  
130 Upon the sight of a drunkenman. 323  
131 Upon the whetting of a scythe. 325  
132 Upon the sight of a lookingglass. 327  
133 Upon the shining of a piece of rotten wood. 329  
134 Upon an Ivy three. 331  
135 Upon a quartan ague. 333  
136 Upon the sight of a loaded cart. 335  
137 Upon the sight of a Dwarf. 338  
138 Upon an importunate Beggar. 340  
139 Upon a medicinal potion. 343  
140 Upon the sight of a Wheel. 346   
FINIS.