An HISTORICAL ANATOMY Of CHRISTIAN MELANCHOLY, Sympathetically set forth, In a threefold state of the soul. 1 Endued with Grace, 2 Ensnared in Sin, 3 Troubled in Conscience.  
With a Concluding MEDITATION On the Fourth Verse of the Ninth Chapter of Saint JOHN.  
By EDMUND GREGORY, sometimes Bachelor of Arts in Trin. Coll. Oxon.  
London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his shop, at the sign of the Prince's Arms in Paul's Churchyard. 1646.   


EDMUNDI GREGORII VERA EFFIGIES AETATIS SUAE ANᵒ TRICESIMO PRIMO ANᵒ 1646.  
Even now I was not, and ere long I must:  
From what thou seest, again return to Dust.  
Gaze not on this poor● earthly shade of mine;  
But read the substance which is more Divine.  
W. Martial sculpsit    

The AUTHOR'● Brief Directions To the READER.  
LEt me obtain (loving Reader) this favour, that you take notice of these few Directions in the perusal of this little Book.  
First, that the main Rule of my thoughts in the compiling hereof, hath been Experience; I say, The Experience out of divers particulars diligently (according to my poor skill) comprised together into one. And truly if, according to the Philosopher, Experientia est optima Magistra, Eperience be our best Teacher, as also a chief guide in all our Divinity; doubtless it is worth the labour seriously to mark it. Yet since that what I have written is not the Experience of all men, but of some (for who is able to find out all the secrecy of but one heart, much more of all hearts?) let it not, I pray, by any means offend you, if you chance to meet with that thing which concurs not with the Experience and Motion of your own soul; for I intent nothing herein as a positive Doctrine or an absolute Rule: if any thing be generally true in all or most men, be it so; if not in those things which are strange to your soul, let your Discretion be your better Direction: for you must consider, that like an Anatomist I have cut up as well the Breast as the Head, and as well the Belly as the Breast: I have equally let out the foul and deformed parts that are in Man or Mankind, as well as the fairer and better parts: Here is perchance somewhat of all sorts of men, and again something perchance which disagrees with most men.  
Secondly, for my expressions, I have endeavoured to declare every particular herein in the fittest and most naturally-agreeing terms (as near as I could) according to the lively sense of the Truth, conceiving a congruity of speech to be the best eloquence; shattering in also now and then an expression in Verse, to the end the serious intention of your mind may the more pleasantly run on in reading: for though my poor and humble Verses add perhaps but little ornament to the matter, yet since they do not at all interrupt the sense nor your thoughts with any long Parenthesis, my hope is they may be delightful in their variety, though they be not in their elegancy. And whereas again I have cast my words into a sympathetical and fellow-feeling Mould, the cause is, Partly for that mine own experience gives me good reason for it; and partly again, for that I conceive, Nihil humanani à me alienum, No humane thing that belongs to Mankind to be so strange unto me, but that I may fitly sympathise and sensibly concur with it. Saint Paul was all things unto all men; to the Jews, a Jew; to the Gentiles, a Gentile; to the sinners, a sinner, that he might work the more effect and comfort in all.  
Thirdly, I shall earnestly desire, if your time and ability may conveniently serve, that you will add your own Experimental Observations hereunto, to the increasing of this poor Book (if God shall so give his blessing) into a larger Volume: for I could heartily wish that learned men would study Themselves as well as their Books; would more set forward in communicating their Experience, I say, the real Experience of their Hearts, rather than the Imaginary notions of their Brains, to the public use, for comfort and increase of Knowledge unto others.  
Lastly, whereas I have laboured very much for Brevity, knitting up all things short and close together, to the end I might not be tedious unto you; so that it may be dum brevis esse labore obscurus fio, whilst that I strive to be brief, I become obscure, and the more dark to the apprehension of him that readeth: My humble Request therefore is, that you would bestow, if not a repetition, at leastwise the more heed and deliberation in reading: and as Elisha did in reviving the Widow's Child, so let me beseech you to take this little Book up into your Chamber or Private Room, to spread it before you, and to stretch yourself upon it, to apply the inner shape and proportion of your hearts unto it; and so by your Prayers unto God, to desire that you may find a soul and life in the reading of it, that it may so animate in you, that it be not as a dead and altogether-unprofitable thing, which I also shall ever pray for to the utmost of my power.  
And thus for the present I take my leave, remaining  
Yours, E. G.   

The Author's POEM to Himself, on James 3. 17.  

IF thou, my soul, wouldst true Religion see,  
Lo, here in brief thou may'st resolved be.   

The Wisdom that descendeth from above, 
Emblematized thus.   
Is pure, as saith S. james, and full of Love;  
Mercy and Peace it doth extend to all,  
Without deceit, and nothing partial.   The Head. 
If sin be Folly, Madness, want of Wit,  
The Righteous then are wis● and most discreet.  Wisdom. 
If Christ our Wisdom came down from on high,  
All earthly knowledge is but vanity.  The Eyes. 
This Wisdom's pure, and filleth us with light,  
To trust in him who passeth humane sight.  Faith. 
This Wisdom's pure, and pu●ifi'th the mind  
From those dark works which make the Conscience blind.  The Hands. 
It seek●e● Peace, it hateth to contend;  
It's gentle, mild and loving to its friend.  Charity. 
With it, Forgiveness easily is found;  
In it, Compassion doth to all abound.  The Feet. 
And all this Good it freely doth impart,  
Without a partial, p●oud o● grudging heart;  Good meaning. 
Nor do●h Hypocrisy these Virtues kill,  
With by respects, or a Sinister will.  

Here is Religion's Head, its Eyes, its Hands;  
Here are those Feet on which it firmly stands.    

〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
☞ E Coelo descendit  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Know thyself.  
Ex tui Scientiâ, fit Conscientia.  JER. 17. 9 The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
O thou that knowest the hearts of all men, Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.  And I saw the dead both great and small stand before God: and the Books were opened, and another Book was opened, which is the Book of Life: and the dead were judged of those things which were written in the Books, according to their works: Revel. 20. 12.  


Of the Soul endued with Grace.  
THe natural disposition and temper of man being much addicted to Melancholy, will be apt in very childhood to make our apprehension lay cares and sadness near our heart, to delight ourselves in solitariness, and to spend the time in Soliloquies and private Speculations: even so much may nature be inclined to these exercises of Contemplation and such fictions of Fancy, that many an hour shall we sacrifice to this our genius; gladly separating ourselves from Company, and picking out what time we can spare for this purpose. These Contemplations with which our Christian thoughts will be thus affected, are chiefly grounded at first on the familiar objects of Sense, and raised to some divine and heavenly purpose; either shall we be soaring up to the consideration of the glorious magnificence of those more excellent Creatures, the Sun, the Moon, the Stars; or hover lower upon the delightful variety of Beasts, of Fowls, of Fishes, upon the strange diversity of Nations, of Countries and Kingdoms; again another while perchance we shall be conversing with God by magnifying his greatness; as thus: O Lord our Governor, how excellent is thy Name in all the world! thou that hast set thy glory above the heavens: or by admiring his mercy; as thus: Thy mercy, O Lord, reacheth unto the heavens, and thy faithfulness unto the clouds: or expostulating with him concerning Mankind; as thus: Oh remember how short our time is: wherefore had thou made all men for nought? Our thoughts this way will be usually very deep, very serious and earnest; and we shall be affected with them to the life, insomuch that they will often provoke in us the passion of grief with tears of joy, with exceeding cheerfulness of mind, even according to that pathetical affection of David, when he said, My lips will be fain when I sing unto thee, and so will my soul, etc. We shall, I say, be serious, even so serious and entirely bend to those sweet Melancholy thoughts, and so affectionately moved with them, that we shall scarce ever think ourselves truly and really recreated, but whilst we are thus meditating on religious matter, and exercising our thoughts in such heavenly notions.  

Here lies our Love, our Dear, and only One:  
Here's our life's Joy; here 'tis, and here alone.   
Here, I say, lie the joy and sweetness of our life; and that, first, because nature doth dispose us to a more retired seriousness of mind; and surely no delight can be s● sweet as that towards which Nature sets her helping hand. Secondly, for that use and practice in time d● tutor up this sympathy of nature into the grateful facility of an habit; and than if the habit of that which agrees not with nature, be most times so lovingly married to the affections, that it can hardly be left; how pleasing must that needs be which concurs with nature! Thirdly, for that this heavenly object is beyond measure unparallelled fo● sweetness, Sweeter, as David hath it, even than the honey and the honey comb.  
The Meditations of God do many times ravish our narrow souls with unspeakable Comfort, and drive us into a ecstasy of amazement for joy: we shall think sometimes to ourselves, What an happiness is this, that the God of heaven and earth should so familiarly communicate himself to such vile creatures as we; that he should grant us such illumination of mind, such joy of spirit? surely we would not, leave it for the whole world; and it is better unto us then thousands of gold and silver. Well, Joy and sorrow do take their turns: and there is no perfect happiness in this life.  

We that were mounted up but now,  
Amongst the Stars to dwell,  
Anon descend as much below,  
Even to the gates of hell.   
As we are raised up, I may say with Saint Paul, unto this third heaven, this more than thrice happy Condition of Joy; so is there also given us our fatal portion of misery, a thorn in the flesh; a thorn of sin which doth as shrewdly prick us with sorrow, as ever we were tickled with delight; the sourness of Eve's apple will not be put out of our taste: be we never so spiritual, we cannot but be subject unto sin: I say sin, and I may say sins too; sin, as intimating only some special ones, in particular; and sins, as denoting a multiplicity of them in the general: for as for many of us, peradventure we are more indifferently prone and subject unto all kinds and sorts of iniquity: there is almost no sin, no perverseness and impiety, but that we have a strong taste thereof in our souls: But most of us, I say most of us in particular, are troubled with some pricking sin, some thorn or other above the rest, some naturally-enclined enormity of our inner man; and these, these darling and intimate sins of ours, whatsoever they be, do always, as we may observe, in an eminent manner cry down the rest, do with more violence haunt us, and with more frequency overwhelm us; so that we shall hardly long be free from them. Ordinary and weakly disposed sins may perhaps be swallowed down with ease; but these extraordinary and deep-rooted ones do stick close and fast in the Conscience: our other sins for the most part we may pretty well digest in oblivion; but this sin, this our familiar and bosom-sin, is so hearty a sin, always with so full a desire, and therefore so palpably gross to our apprehension, that it constantly leaves behind it a Memento of shame to our outward man, and the sting of sadness to our inner soul. When it is past and gone, we shall find our Consciences wounded with dismaidness, and our hearts drooping with grief; such sour sauce hath this seeming pleasure; such a sting in the tail hath this flattering Serpent; a sting it is which, as I say, without question we are sufficiently sensible of; we can most duly and tenderly feel the hurt it doth us; and yet for all that, when it comes too, it doth so strongly charm and bewitch our reason, that all the power that is in us is presently dissolved, and we are no way able to withstand it: the deceitful bait of pleasure maketh us suddenly to swallow down the Bane, and then, though like that Book in the Revelation, it be sweet in the mouth to commit it, yet is it bitter in the belly, exceeding bitter, even as Wormwood: See Prov. 5. 4. Sin doth us no great harm whilst we look to it in time: though it bring with it a sadness and a sting unto our Consciences; yet as long as within three or four days, or a week, we do vent out this sadness into tears, with true Compunction, and pull out again this sting by the hand of Repentance, we feel no danger unto ourselves. When we are in sin, our understanding is as it were in a cloud, and our affections cold and dull; but the return of God's favour again, will appear unto us as the Sun dispersing with his brightness the clouds of ignorance, and enflaming with his heat the coldness of affection: so true find we that which our Saviour speaks of himself in Saint John: I am the light of the world: he that followeth me, shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life. In darkness, that is, the darkness of sin: but shall have the light of life, that is, that living light which quickens the heart unto goodness, and enliveneth the affections. Enliveneth the affections  

With cheerful thoughts, with nimble active love;  
With flames of zeal which never cease to move:   
to move upwards, and give their humble attendance upon the Almighty.  
In the act of Repentance, we shall as it were throw down ourselves before God with a filial remorse and melting sorrow for our offence, sometimes casting an eye upon the exceeding vileness of our sin, and then weeping, and grieving, and vexing ourselves, that we should be creatures so wretched as to commit that, which, though there were no God to obey, not Law to transgress, yet a man would be ashamed and scorn to do: sometimes casting an eye to consider, not so much what it is in itself, as against whom; and than it is ten times grief, to think that we should so highly offend him that hath always been so good, so loving, and, as I may say so, too much merciful unto us; that we should displease him whose infinite goodness is more than that we are able in the least degree to deserve, though we should with all the veins of our hearts continually obey him; counting it a most tender thing to grieve him which hath vouchsafed us to be as dear unto himself as the very apple of his eye.  
We shall, I say, weep, and grieve, and vex ourselves: for it is to be noted, that we do seldom find the true and effectual comfort of Repentance without tears: when the eye can kindly run down with streams of water, then doth our heart begin to feel ease, then doth that burden begin to be light, which before was so heavy; and then will the light of grace begin to shine in upon our souls, and kindle our affections with that zeal of David, Psal. 86. 11. O knit my soul, knit it faster unto thee, that I may fear thy Name. Many times thus in the passion of our souls are we so overjoyed, as it were, at the return of God's favour, that we could even suffer our hearts to be plucked out of our breasts to offer them up in devotion unto him: and therefore now do we lift up our souls with such a servant desire of better obedience, that henceforth it seemeth not enough for us to go or walk, but we must run the way of thy Commandments, O Lord, since thou ●ast thus set our hearts at liberty.  
To hang down the head like a bulrush, Isai. 58. 8, and to be covered with the sackcloth of dejection for our sins, this verily is not the main; this is but the outside and beginning of Repentance:  

It only doth before prepare the way,  
Telling some news of the approaching day.   
A lively resolution of the heart to redeem the time, this is the soul and reality thereof. Repentance is but dead, without a lively heart: and surely it never doth us good, till it thus come unto the quick.  
Well now, when the Almighty hath thus breathed into our souls this breath of life, then doth our hope revive again in the confidence of pardon, and then also shall we be so sensibly affected with God's infinite mercies towards us, that these his mercies, like those bands of love, Hos. 11. 4, do tie us far more to his obedience then before; all the faculties of both body & soul do seem too little for us to do him service with, that so in some measure we may requite his love in forgiving, by our love in obeying; the more God forgives us, the more we do always love him: so that we may justly witness the truth of that which our Saviour saith, To whom God hath forgiven much, he will love him much. This love of God doth usually raise in us a holy indignation against sin, to hate, to abhor, and as it were trample it under our feet, making us zealously to take part with God against ourselves, who have thus took part with sin against God; and therefore shall we be ready to enjoin a kind of penance to our souls, and to execute in God's behalf a revenge upon ourselves, so that if it were possible, we might give him a due recompense and satisfaction for our offence.  
The effect of Repentance is, That we shall feel our consciences satisfied, our hearts at rest, and ourselves joyfully at one with God again; and then will our soul make her boast of the Lord, that h● hath put a new song into our mouths, even a song of thanksgiving for this great deliverance, according to that of David; O Lord, thou hast been exceeding gracious unto us wherefore as for our soul, it shall be talking of thy righteousness and of thy praise all the day long. We cannot cease, I say,  

We cannot cease from morn till night  
thy goodness to set forth:  
O Lord, 'tis now our whole delight  
to wonder at thy worth.   
Thus a while are we full of praises and thanksgiving unto God. And now then with such a strong and powerful confidence in him, do we go on in our wont course of divine Meditations, that our thoughts do as it were scorn the earth, being like Elijah in the fiery chariot of zeal mounted up to dwell in heaven only, and in heavenly things: our Fancy will be all for the high and lofty speculations of God, of Christ, of Eternity, of the World to come, etc. The private leisure and holy silence of the mind fro● outward things, giveth such advantage to the soul to flee upwards, that for the present we are even Deified with these glorious objects, and are become Saintlike in our thoughts: but when it comes down again to the practic part, for the conversation of ourlives; when these Speculations are to be actuated into a good behaviour; lo, than it proves that there is nothing at all in us of Saints, no not scarce of men, or at leastwise, of very weak and frail men: then all that we can do, is but to desire to keep ourselves from sin, or to be unwilling to enter into temptation; that, that for the most part, is the furthest we do proceed▪ but to withstand, and vanquish, or put off sin, are we seldom able in the le●st degree and therefore we may well a●k the question with Saint Paul, Who shall deliver us from this body of fin? since the highest period of strength tha● we do here attain unto, is able to do little, even so little, that I may justly say it is but as the shadow of something rather then anything and indeed altogether, as it were, nothing in reality, though something in intention. Well, now being in the state of Repentance, we can carefully take heed of the least sins, directing our conversation in a more elevated and steady course then usual, as conceiving ourselves to lie open to the awful view of an Omnipotent and most glorious Deity: as also, we can more duly humble ourselves, and pray before him with a fervent, with a lively earnestness and confidence of obtaining: For first, the abundant experience of God's great love towards us, together with that loving affection which we feel in our hearts towards him again, breeds a kind of union and friendship betwixt God and our souls, and this union begets a trust and confidence in him, and then this confidence doth fully persuade us that we shall prevail with him in any thing, so that it be best for us to obtain it; I say, Best for us, that is, for our good, though not always to our liking: our Prayers, verily 'tis sit they should be confident; but they may not be obstinate and self-willed: Nature doth use to take it harsh not to have her desire granted; but David's resolution in Psal. 39, will at length pretty well satisfy her: I became dumb, and opened not my mouth: for it was thy doing: For it was thy doing, that's the reason to stop our mouths, and hold us contented: And 'tis our Saviour's reason and resolution in Matth. 36. 39: Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt. God's will, we are sure, is far better than ours, and therefore good reason it is that ours should in all patience and humility be ruled by his: better it is in his care; for he hath a greater care over us than we can have of ourselves; and better in his wisdom and foreknowledge; for he knoweth far better what is good for us than we know for ourselves.  

Our sinful wills do seldom aim aright;  
Lord give us what is fitting in thy sight.   
What thy good will and pleasure is, and we are contented.  
Again, as we have such a submissive trust and confidence of obtaining in Prayer, so are we always more affectionately apprehensive of what we do pray, then in the time of sin; our thoughts can go along and keep turn with the words of our Prayers: at the confession of sins, shall we feel ourselves pressed with the burden of our wretchedness: at the Petitions of grace, our soul will be athirst after the living God: Oh when shall we be satisfied with the fullness of his mercies! at Thanksgiving for his Blessings, our heart doth as it were run over with the abundance of his loving-kindness: Even so hath thy Mercies embraced us on every side, that who can set forth thy praise, O Lord, or declare the goodness that thou hast done for our souls? Thus, I say, we can now keep our thoughts nearer to the sense in prayer then at other times; and yet we shall find it, at the best time of our Devotion, very difficult to keep our intention close to it any long while, specially in Public praying: for do what we can, ever and anon our minds will be sliding away from the matter in hand, and dreaming upon other imaginations; at least, some other thoughts on the sudden do come athwart us, and put us from the sense: so that seldom do we hold our intention steady upon it throughout a whole Prayer, unless it be very short: For we may here pertinently take notice that sin is so naturally rooted in us and all Mankind, that 'tis a very hard task (if with due inward silence we observe it in ourselves) to keep our secret thoughts within compass even whilst the eye of Conscience is most watchful: I say,  

Even whilst the Star of Jacob shines most bright  
In us, to purge away the dark of night.   
So that it was no marvel David said that the righteous man falleth seven times a day, whenas there is seldom an hour in the day, even in the purest condition of our life (specially if we have any concernment to be conversant in outward affairs) I say, scarce an hour wherein extravagant and unlawful imaginations or desires do not most thrust themselves into the mind▪ which though perhaps indeed the awaking care of Conscience, by God's help, doth quickly check out again with shame in these or the like motions of dislike, as, Fie, 'tis not right, God forbid; yet the Corruption of nature hereby showeth itself to be always active in us, though it doth not now prevail as it would.  
O Lord God, our best Condition in this world thou knowest is but as a night, in which thougb there be some light shining within us, yet is there much more darkness; and therefore our experience methinks doth most fitly and naturally Moralise that expression of thine concerning our Saviour, Numb. 24, where thou hast called him by thy holy Spirit The Star of Jacob, even as it were the day star of heaven arising in our hearts; a star, and that befitting the night; and yet a star which shineth to our Souls and Consciences with a blessed light of joy and comfort; and so, as Saint John with his Baptising tears of Repentance, prepared the way for our Saviour to be entertained in the souls of men: so, I say, the watery clouds of sorrow for sin passing away from our re●enting souls, do unvayl our Saviour unto us, that Star and Light of divine grace, that he may shine out again as the joyful Light of our Salvation. And O most merciful Saviour, thou that art here a Star unto us, a Daystar appearing before the Sunrising be thou hereafter in heaven the Sun itself, the Sun of Righteousness shining in most perfect glory unto all Eternity.  
But to go on: Lo, the sweet Olive branches that this Noab's Dove, Repentant reconciliation, bringeth in unto the soul. It is said, Prov. ●8. 1. That the righteous are as bold as a Lion: Lord, who is there that can say he is righteous before thee, when as the very Angel are unclean in thy sight? much more are we, the very best piece of whose life is as a menstruous cloth, defiled with gross imperfections: yet see! the nearer we draw on thereunto, the less fearful we are: the terribleness of thunder which according to the Poet  

Is apt with fear to shake the minds of men,  
Jussit & humanas motura-tonitrua mentes,   
or the hideous examples of God's Judgements, and the ●ike; nay, even terrible death itself, which according to the Ancients is naturally 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the most terrible of all terrible things; all these with which we are wont to be affrighted, do not now strike us with so deep a passion of fear, nor go thorough our loins with such a terror; and that not at all because of any deadness of Conscience, but out of the liveliness of faith: I say, Because the Lord, as it is in Psal. 27, being our light and our salvation, whom then methinks should we fear? the Lord being the strength of our life, that is, the trust and confidence of our souls, of whom or of what should we be afraid?  
Again, the Service of God leads us into that glorious liberty (which as I conceive Saint Paul speaks of) of the sons of God. First, I mean that liberty whereby we feel our Consciences set free from the doting scrupulosity of things unnecessary and indifferent, the which perchance at some other times we may be apt to stick upon with perplexity. Secondly, I mean that liberty, we may call it The liberty of Obedience, which as it makes us willingly and freely to obey our betters, cause 'tis for God's glory, who hath appointed the same, and 'cause 'tis for his glory to do him service in it: so again it makes us so free in Spirit as not to stoop to any ignoble or disgraceful servility; that is, with a base and cowardly heart to yield our approbation in any unjust & indirect course, because our Superiors either like or command it; to call good evil, or evil good, for any cause whatsoever: No, we have a warrant for it methinks in our souls, not to deny the Truth for the fear or love of the greatest or dearest one in the world: for if we deny the Truth, we deny him that is greater and dearer unto us then any can be besides, even God himself; for God is Truth, saith Saint John: And surely he that is in subjection to father or mother, as our Saviour saith, or even unto any other Creature, more than unto God, is not worthy of him. Many times this free spirit is apt to degenerate into a fiery spirit; so that in stead of a moderate use of the liberty of truth towards Superiors, shall we be ready to fall into a rash and disobedient humour against them. Joab's dealing with King David, 1 Chron. 21. 3, is a singular example to be followed in this kind; that is, to be so freely faithful unto our Betters, as not to flatter or back them on in that which is evil; and yet (not using our Liberty as a cloak of Maliciousness) so lovingly respectful, as not to contradict their power with an undiscreet and churlish impatiency. Moreover, this our foresaid unity and reconciliation with God, crowneth our souls with many happy and rare advantages; but specially in this, that it maketh our spirits cheerful, merry and full of rejoicing: a good Conscience is as a continual feast, wherein we are satisfied with all good things, as with marrow and fatness; and therefore most fitly hath our Saviour named the holy Ghost a Comforter: And be shall give you another Comforter, Joh. 14. 16. A Comforter, and truly so: for how can sadness take fast hold in that breast where this heavenly joy and comfort doth abide? Thus for a season do we flourish in the state of reconciliation, flourish like an herb nourished with the dew of heaven, or like the tree, in David's Psalms, planted by the water's side, the flowing river of God's mercies. And now  

And now perchance that we have spent some days,  
Or else some weeks in these more sacred ways,   
we must begin to take an unwilling farewell of this our happiness: for by this time, that heart and courage against sin which we have got by Repentance, doth flag, grow less and less and decay, till we are defiled therewith as before: the drowsy eye by little and little falls asleep it knows not how; and were it not for the awaking again, 'twould scarce perceive whether it had slept or no: so, even so, insensibly doth sin creep on, and so subtly get within us, that we can never almost feel it, till the sting thereof hath awaken our consciences unto Repentance. And then again perceiving the wickedness of our hearts, and the foul enormity of sin, shall we in the bitterness of our souls, and detestation of our iniquities, humble ourselves even below the dust of the earth, accounting us not worthy to be the vilest creatures under the cope of heaven, that have been so wickedly perfidious against our Creator; and therefore do we consider and earnestly resolve for the present, if it will please him once more, even this once more to forgive us this our sin; surely methinks all the devils in hell should not prevail to overtake us so again: for this doth always touch us nearest and trouble us most, that we are so faithless unto God, and so full of hypocrisy before him, that whereas at our last Repentance we had so sincerely, so heartily and so seriously promised amendment of life, and also with our whole might and main to obey God and please him; nevertheless, though our promise doth seem to be never so hearty, and with so full a purpose, yet the end and event doth show that there is hypocrisy in it, even great hypocrisy: for when temptation comes, and sin is at hand, then do we falsheartedly and cowardly, not only not duly strive against and resist it, but even basely yield unto it: So infirm is our best ability, that our Saviour hath wisely taught us to pray to God that he would not try our strength with temptation; O lead us not into temptation. But our weakness, or rather wickedness, is yet greater, not only in so easily suffering temptation to prevail over us, but also in our readiness to join with it and help it forwards, hugging the very first motions thereof in our breasts: so that we may say of our souls as David did of the wicked man, Psal. 50. 18, Thou no sooner sawest that thief, sin, but thou consentedst with him, and baste been partaker, etc. Nay, many times we do go one degree farther besides this hugging and hasty embracing of the evil motions of sin proposed unto us: I say, One degree farther, even by seeking after temptation and inviting of outward means to beget sin within us; just as those of whom Isaiah speaks, that draw iniquity with cords of vanity, and sin as it were with a cart-rope. Well, notwithstanding,  

Though sin doth thus even die our souls in grain,  
Thy mercies, Lord, can purge out all the stain.  
Before thee we are 'sham'd to show our face;  
But all our hope is in thy saving grace.   
notwithstanding, I say, the unhappy discouragements of sin, we shall embolden ourselves to offer up in this manner our resolution unto the lord O merciful Father, if it would please thee to pass by our iniquities, and to forgive us this time, sure now in good earnest we will perform our words; we will certainly keep our promise, and set ourselves more sincerely to it then before: hitherto we have promised well, but now will we do well; knowing verily, that it is not the sudden passion of a good desire that is sufficient, but the constant habit of better Obedience: it is not enough to have the show of godliness in our Mouths and bare Intentions, if we deny the true power and effect thereof in our Lives and Conversations. We will now therefore act out our intendment in the practice of Religion: whatsoever hath been past, we will now certainly be altogether in good earnest; there shall nothing hinder us. Thus, even thus, so eager, so intentive, and so earnest shall we be sometimes, that we desire forgiveness from God on no other terms, but as he doth find our amendment afterwards: we will even be dealt withal according to our good behaviour; and not only so, but we shall be ready to imprecate a revenge of our breach of promise with some due punishment upon our heads, and to expect from God no otherwise to be merciful unto us then as that we do approve our faithfulness unto him.  
And yet for all this, this utmost resolution that may be, are we at no time as good as our word; I say, At no time can we thoroughly withstand sin; it always overmatcheth us; 'tis too strong for us to deal with sin, specially of all the rest, the sin of our nature, our darling and sweet a reeing sin: this therefore exceeding unfaithfulness of ours, in that we do so vehemently promise that which we do never accordingly perform, doth at length methinks, at every time of our Repentance, bring us so much the further out of credit with God; so that we can hardly see how he should believe or forgive us any more, who have thus often dealt so falsely with him: Nevertheless sin doth press us so sore, that we may not sit still in quiet, till we get ease by Repentance.  

The Conscience, like a stomach that's displeased  
With meats, doth vomit till she can be eased.   
In this case we shall be very loath perchance, and altogether ashamed to come again into the presence of God, as Adam was, in Gen. 3. 10; yet necessity doth prick us forward; because, O Lord, whither shall we go from thy presence to have any comfort in this our misery? to thee therefore must we needs come, O thou Preserver of men: Necessity I sav, sets us forward, and at length so often experience bringeth us to consider with ourselves, and thus to close our judgement more near to the matter, that since there must needs be something else in it besides the secret hypocrisy of our own hearts, why so many promises should vanish in the air, so many promises which for th● present we cannot perceive but that they do come most heartily and sincerely from us; Sure, we shall think to ourselves, there is some other difficulty in it; sure there is somewhat else hinders that we cannot be as good as our words: and thus considering, after a while we begin to feel out the knot, that indeed it is no marvel why we could not perform that which we did promise, when-as we did promise that which we could not perform, that which of ourselves we are no ways able to bring to pass. Now therefore it is easy to see the folly of our too-violent and vehement earnestness in saying we will do this, and we will do that, the which is not in our power to effect: and therefore more duly weighing within ourselves that 'tis God alone who worketh both the will and the deed, as Saint Paul speaks, we learn thereby more moderately and soberly to say, O draw us, and w● will run after thee: Lord, we would be better, we desire to avoid sin; but help thou our desire. We may also in Saint Paul's words truly say that we labour, labour in our minds to be rid of sin, and to attain some better condition of life; and yet it is not we, but the grace of God which is with us: it is our labour, and it is not ours: something there is, no question, in us, to set forwards in the business; and yet this something, without God, we do sufficiently find to be even as nothing: we may (as indeed we must) be doing, and so we our endeavours; but let us know and be assured, that there can be no harvest except God prosper it; for it shall be like the Corn growing upon the house top, wherewith the Mower filleth not his hand, neither he that bindeth up the sheaves his bosom. Many times do we observe in the passage of our life, that when we most strive, and are most eagerly set to resist sin, we shall usually never a jot the less, but rather the more, be foiled with sin. First, the cause thereof (as I judge) is our impatiency; for we may feel in ourselves, if we mark it, that herein we are not so patiently contented as we should be to tarry the Lords leisure, but would make too much haste to be freed, before it is Gods will we should. Saint Paul himself would fain be delivered, but it was answered him, My grace is sufficient for thee. Again, another cause may be, for that perchance we do attribute too much to our own strength for the deliverance; and therefore God will let us see how weak we are of ourselves to do any thing as of ourselves. Behold,  
Our sins take being with us in the womb, they live with us from Cradle to the Tomb; so weak are we & frail, to encounter with sin, the common Enemy of Mankind, specially this bosom Enemy, our natural sin and corruption; that it is well if through continuance of many years together, we can make these Ague fits to break their course, It is to be noted, that every one hath his double Genius, his good and evil Angel to attend upon him: the good Angel, I mean his natural inclination to some virtue more than ordinary; the evil Angel, his natural inclination to some vice above the rest: if we do keep out this evil Angel, this Devil of ours, this Satan, and Deceiver, at arms end; that is, not suffer the temptation to enter in too nearly unto us, we may perchance now and then escape the foil: But when once he gets within us, sure we are then to be overcome; there is no grappling with it in our own breasts And oh how often, and often, are we thus shamefully foiled, and overcome▪ sometimes do we think to ourselves, Lord shall we never be free from this pollution of sin? We do hope this shall be the last time, now we hope we shall do so no more: but yet still there is no Last, there is no end with it; the comfort that we have is this, that as we do often sin, so it is no long while that we continue in it without repentance: and so then, as David saith, Though heaviness may endure for a night, the night of sin, yet joy cometh again in the morning, the morning of repentance: joy, and that a double joy; joy, by Reconciliation with God, and Regeneration unto Righteousness; and joy by spiritual comfort in divine Meditations: for the pleasing exercise of these Meditations, like a sweet Companion in our heavenly journey, is seldom long absent from our souls, being full of amiable delight and recreation, refreshing the heart with pleasure, and sugaring the affections; so that many times the familiar conversation which we have with Heaven, and that Angelical illumination of mind which is within us, doth make our ravished souls, notwithstanding all other difficulties, say unto themselves, as jacoh did at the news of Joseph's life and prosperity, It is enough: we are full, and so fully satisfied with this heavenly Manna, even this very food of Angels, that here do we sit down, and feed ourselves, perhaps some hours at a time on this Celestial sweetness.  

Our silent thoughts now take their holy scem,  
To walk about the new jerusalem:  
And mark ●ow there each precious stone doth vy  
Which may give brightest lustre to the eye.   
How do we desire to rest and dwell continually in this Paradise of contemplation; even as Saint Peter did when he saw how fine it was to be in the Mount, and said, Lord let us make three Tabernacles, and dwell here: to dwell here, it were good indeed, but that verily may not be, there is no dwelling in Heaven whilst we are in the flesh, no looking for a continual joy, sweetness and content in this vale of misery; and therefore since that thorough the whole scope of this life we are ordained rather to a religious travail and labour, then to quiet and ease; doubtless the resting ourselves so overmuch in this satiety of joy, doth us more harm then good, in that it makes us the more to forget to take the pains to go to an other Heaven hereafter, who are thus as it were in a present Heaven here already; the satisfying fruition of Contemplation, doth call away our thoughts from the necessary care of Mortification, flattering many times the due sense of sin, and giving us, as I may say, a kind of Liberty and Privilege to do amiss. For we shall thereby thus think to our self, when we are so often and so much over taken with sin; there is a fatal necessity of sinning in all men; and therefore notwithstanding that how many, and whatsoever our sins be, we make no doubt but it is well enough with us, and that we must needs be sufficiently in the favour of God, to whom he doth afford such divine familiarity, and such heavenly Comforts; the which persuasion of ourselves, although it may be true in some sense; true I mean, that these inward gifts of mind are generally a token of God's favour; yet surely thus, I say, doth the sweetness and self-conceit thereof make us often times the more slack, not so diligently to seek to mortify our corrupt affections, not so seriously thinking how this illumination of mind, this Tree of Knowledge may bring forth the fruit of good works; how to become humble, to become patient, to become chaste, to become temperate, etc.  
james and john were busying their minds about who should be on the right hand, and who on the left of Christ in his Kingdom: but our Saviour calls them nearer home to the matter in hand; to think rather on suffering with him, and that present Condition of difficulty which they must undergo, well knowing that the gazing too much on that easy and sweet part of religion might make them to omit the weightier, and more material part which is to bear the Cross, and drink of his Cup.  
Well, as experience of spiritual understanding grows on, so our fancy will be apt to abide more constant in our meditations upon anything, and be more abundantly fruitful with variety of considerations, specially if other affairs give us Liberty to spend our time freely upon it; our Melancholy thoughts perhaps for some months together will be mainly employed and taken up; sometimes with the notions of this subject, sometimes of that; for a while it may be, we shall be altogether to contemplate of Death and Mortality, our fancy will hang only on Graves, on Skulls, on Passing-bells, sadly weighing how truly it is said of David, that man is a thing of nought, his time passeth away like a shadow, and that of job in his seventh Chapter, My days are swifter than a Weavers shuttle, and are spent without hope. O remember that my life is wind, mine eye shall no more see good, the eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more, etc. ringing, ringing out the Knell of death to our souls, in this or the like manner. O thou devouted soul,  

Amidst the pleasures, joys, triumphs,  
And hopes now in this life begun,  
Think every morning that ere night,  
Thy Sun may set, thy life be done.  
Amidst the cares, the doleful griefs  
And fears that on this life attend;  
Think every morning that ere night,  
Thy Sun may set, thy li●e may end.   
Another while perchance we shall take pleasure in guilding over our thoughts, with the glorious lustre of the world to come, the beatifical vision, the beauty of the Saints; according to that of Daniel, They that be wise, shall shine as the Firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever. Sometimes our seriousness is very much affected with Bells; the Melancholy rising and falling of the sound doth methinks lively imprint into our fancy the Emblem of man's inconstancy, and the fading succession of the times, and ages of this world, she wing that which S. john speaks in the 1. Epistle, the second Chapter, How the world passeth away, and the lustt thereof; but he that doth the will of God abideth for ever; the warbling out of tunes in our mind, the hearing or modulating of melodious songs which have been ancient, will revive unto our fancy the times, and things that are past, making us exceeding sad and dumpish at the remembrance of them and ready sometimes to let fall tears; because that golden Flower of time, that springtide of delight is so soon past and gone; three is an end with it; and alas woe is us; it shall never, O never return again.  

Farewell, adieu ye pleasant youthful hours,  
Which did our life so sweetly crown with flowers.   
Many times again doth the consideration of Eternity, and that endless stat● of the soul after this life, drive these or the like Meditat●ons intentively to our hearts; O Lord how much doth it concern us with most exact care, to take heed how we order ourselves whilst we live here; when as according to our living in this world our souls must needs enter into such an endless, and unalterable a condition, the very beholding of which, though but a far off, doth make all our sense as it were gidy and amazed at the exceeding height, depth, and extent thereof. The sight of a dead mau, if peradventure anatomised, and cut up before us, or else but shrouded lying prostrate, or the like, doth usually work so real an efficacy in our thoughts, that it deeply casteth us into a loathing abasement, and vile esteem of ourselves; it may be for a good while after considering thus, that notwithstanding Man doth carry such estate with him, is so sumptuously adorned, and so full of magnificent show in this life, yet is he in substance but a piece of carrion, even so contemptible a thing, that he would disdain being alive to but touch himself if he were dead. O man, how canst thou be proud, that art nothing but a bag of dung, a sink of filth and corruption: me thinks the very meanest creatures are more happy than we; for lo O Lord they continue perfect in that state thou hast created them; they live not in sin against their Maker, they die in innocence; but man alas, unhappy man liveth in sin, dieth in trouble: O fin thou art the worst of all evils; thou art worst then death, worse than Hell, sure better were it to have no being at all, then that our being should be offensive to that God, which hath bestowed it on us.  
In the time of plague and infectious sickness in like manner do our Meditations more consideratively enlarge themselves; how are our thoughts then not a little swollen up with sadness and grief, at the tender apprehension of the solitary, and forsaken estate of those poor souls, who are imprisoned, and shut up in the infected houses; thinking thus with ourselves, O Lord how happy are we on whom the Sun shines thus merrily: the Sun of God's favour; we have health, we have Liberty, we have Plenty of all things at our hearts desire: but they poor wretches are enclosed within the shadow of death; their feet like good Iosep●s are in the stocks, and the Iron thereof entereth into their souls; the hardness of misery maketh their very hearts to bleed; for (as job saith) the arrows of the Almighty are within them; and the poison thereof drinketh up their spirits: O how can we forget to have compassion on such misery as this!  
The se●ious deepness of our mind doth also thus frequently close up in our Meditations, the departing day: and Lord thou hast added one day more unto this our life, which thou mightst long ere this have shortened, and cut off; Lord prepare us for our end; and make us willinger to die then yet we are; that when as we shall have brought all our days to a period, as we have now this day, we may be ready and well content, to depart out of this world to thine eternal mercy; and that we be patiently resolved, that this face, these hands, and this whole body of ours, after a while it may put on corruption, be clothed with blackness and deformity: and so with the fatal necessity of all Mankind, naturally to be composed into Mortality, and be gathered to our Fathers to rest with them in the dust, until thine appointed time.  

Until that shrill awaking Trumpet sound,  
At the last day to raise us from the ground.   
The Melancholy Man is a man full of thoughts, his fancy is as it were always in a constant Motion: no sooner do we discharge our brains of these diviner thoughts and meditations; specially our mind being at leisure from worldly things; but forth with it is in action, either with some idle, or ill employment; either we are building of Castles in the air, or framing of Vtopiaes, and the Ideas of one thing, and of another, of Monarchies of Paradises, and such like pleasing dreams of fancy; or else we are on the otherside snarling our thoughts with the toils of sin.  

Each sense of ours to the heart,  
Proves Traitor to let in,  
Temptation with his fatal dart,  
The Harbinger of sin.   
How often thus do; the allurmeents of pleasure involve our minds in a restless unquietness, until we give satisfaction thereunto? how often doth the provocations of lust follow our thoughts, till we commit Adultery with the Baby of our own fancy? how often again doth impatiency haunt us till we are engaged in wrath and distemper? how often doth the love of Riches torment us into the consent of injustice?  
This is the difference we may find in our souls, betwixt good and evil; when we are affected with good things we are ready, as I say, to pour out our brains into an abundance of Consideration thereupon: but when as we go to make use thereof in the practice of our lives, such difficulties and impossibilities do stand in the way, that it is even against our stomach then to t●inke upon it: when chose we are affected with evil things: it may be we are not ready to spend so many thoughts upon them: but we may easily observe our proneness to imprint them in our actions. For good; we are as the fruitless Figtree, all whose sap is but enough to bear leaves, none for fruit; so that in manner all our goodness goes out into thoughts, meditations and desires, little or none at all into practice and performance; but for evil, we are more fruit than leaves, the practic part of our souls doth here outgo the speculative.  Facilis descensus av A●rni. 
Nature hath made it easy for us to go downwards in the paths of death and destruction; and yet notwithstanding by God's mercy sin doth not overcome us to fulfil it in the lusts and full swing thereof; we are not at ease and rest with it, it doth discontent and trouble us; there is no perfect quietness in our souls whilst it prevails within us; although sometimes for want of careful diligence it taketh such advantage of us, that 'tis long and difficult ere we can wind ourselves out of the snare thereof. I say long and difficult ere we can throughly untie those knots of perverseness, and impiety, which Satan when he gets time and liberty, doth cunningly contrive within us: Here we may note the wisely-confirmed maturity of years and better acquaintance wi●h the nature of things, as it doth help forward our continuance in grace, in that it becomes longer (being made clean by repentance) ere we shall now fall back into sin. I mean into more gross and frequent sins, so likewise it advantageth our continuance in sin, in that it becomes the longer also (being in the state of wrath) ere we can be duly reconciled again by true repentance; and the reason hereof without question is chiefly to be conceived, for that ripeness of age makes nature more solid, stiff and unmovably set in its course, being the right subject of constant seriousness and Melancholy; as on the other-side, youth is vainly wavering, and according to the Poet, Cereu● in vitium slecti, etc. 
Like wax that's quickly wrought to any shape,  
And pliable to any alteration.   
Again touching the settledness of our courses in this spiritual condition of the soul, it is always to be observed, that the more unhappily fin doth prevail over us, and the longer it doth continue with us, the more we are disheartened, and loath to repent; by reason that difficulty and bad success doth daunt the courage, and deter from that, which easiness and happy proceeding do make to delight in; thus likewise in other things it is usually seen, that he who thrives delights to be a good Husband; prosperity backs on the endeavour, and sweetness a man's labour. In like manner also, when we have good success in Religion, it makes us the more religious; the better we thrive in it, the more we are in love with it; that which we have already quickens the appetite, and whets on the affection with a greater longing, having truly tasted how good it is: we can with David say, Oh how sweet are thy words unto our taste; yea, sweeter than honey unto our mouth: our soul can then handsomely reilish all holy duties, and religious exercises, and we do delight in the performance thereof; as in particular, the frequenting the Church, the hearing of Sermons; the holy Law and Testimonies of the Lord do not now seem a burden but as a pleasure unto us.  

O Lord me thinks thy words to us do shine,  
A sweet direction in the paths divine.   
In receiving the word, we can suck out a secret sweetness, and comfortable benefit there from, it becomes nourishable unto us, the Rod of God's justice, and the staff of his mercies bound up together in his book, do pleasantly lead forth our souls, besides the waters of Comfort; but specially is our Melancholy soul most in imately affected with such Scripture, which presseth home the due understanding of our momentany and mortal Condition, and with funeral exercises, which more lively set forth the same, Solomon, saith, It is better to go into the house of mourning, etc. and he gives the cause, for that is the end of all men, and the living will lay it to his heart; we shall I say be thus always apt on such occasions to fix the sad consideration of death most nearly to us; and sure me thinks there can be no thoughts that do concern us more than those of our end of our last day; neither can we bestow any of the time of our life better, or to more purpose, then in the digging of our Graves; I mean the providing for our end; for though perhaps we may live a great deal longer; yet verily we are no men of this world; thy grace O Lord hath so removed our affections from these transitory things; that with Saint Paul, We are daily dying in our thoughts, and desiring rather to be dissolved, and to be with Christ, then to live here; not waiting, expecting, and looking for a long continuance upon earth, but far more for a happy departure.  

Life's not our joy, at death's our chiefest aim,  
By life we lose, by death we hope to gain.   
Also in this prosperity of Religion do we always apprehend a more gracious satisfaction in our prayers, & supplications; the spirit of devotion so filleth and fatteth our soul with goodness, that we are wont abundantly to rejoice therein above all other things; striving to lift up our souls often in private devotion; in so much, that if leisure serve, we shall be ready to offer up the incense of our zeal unto God, in admiring his mercy, setting forth our unworthiness, desiring farther his grace and heavenly benediction, to grow stronger and stronger in his fear and love; and the like requests and Petitions often times, even often times peradventure in a day, not only in short ejaculations, but even in pretty la●ge forms of expression; for no sooner do we feel the sacred fire of Devotion flaming upwards, and aspiring unto heaven; but presently we seriously betake our thoughts to prayer and thanksgiving; by the way it may be here considerable, whether for our constant devotion in private, as morning and evening, and the like; many short ejaculations are more fit to carry up our affections unto God; or otherwise some one long and large continued form, the former way through its often cuttings off being in dangsr to make us degenerate into alazie and forgetful seldomness of praying, the latter through its tedious continuance into an unadvised dulness in praying: and therefore not much approving of either, between both of these, two or three moderate forms, with an acute and strong winged brevity, are me thinks more convenient to present our cause before the Almighty in an unvariable constancy, and in a piously devout apprehension; but to keep on our way: Now again in like manner are we most divinely studious and diligent; to make the full benefit and advantage of that time, which is properly set apart for God's service, labouring to build up others, and to be built up strong in ourselves; as by hearing, exhorting, and discoursing with truly pious and religious men, rejoicing in this comfortable Communion of Saints; I mean the communicating acquaintance, and assisting fellowship of our inner man, one with another; or else again perhaps more privately managing our souls by reading; as in the Bible, Practise of Piety, Gerrard's Meditations, or the like; by Meditating Consulting, and walking with the Almighty in spiritual thoughts▪ ending the Sabbath days usually in such high and serious actions; occupying ourselves in that only which may tend either to improve Knowledge, try Faith, exercise Charity, examine Conscience, and the like, communing thus, as David hath it, secretly in our own hearts, in our Chambers, and being still quiet from outward perturbations, thereby effectually to entertain these heavenly Guests: And therefore duly apprehending this Celestial happiness of the mind, shall we use to long for the Sabbath before it come, preferring it in esteem above all the other days of the week, and calling it, as in the 58. of Isaiah, the thirteenth verse, A delight unto us, the Holy of the Lord, etc. accounting the holy rest of this Sabbath here to be a lively Emblem, and as it were a taste of that glorious rest in the eternal Sabath hereafter.  
The due frequenting, and solemn use of four a clock prayers on saturdays afternoon, is me thinks a worthy sweet, and seasonable exercise, as being an excellent preparation against the Sunday, to lay aside the thoughts, the cares and business of our Calling; and truly were it generally more observed, and taken notice of, no doubt Religion might far far the better for it, but sure.  

The Root of evil is the love of Gold,  
And that is it Religion is so cold,  
Because we cannot spare the time from gain,  
For Heaven therefore we take but little pain.   
To go on as this irradiating beam of divine grace, doth clothe our minds with a light and delight in spiritual things; whereby not only our thoughts ate set a work on purer objects, but also our outward behaviour and conversation is ready to do its part too in Religion, our tongues not vain or offensive, but aiming their words for the most part to pious and good discourses, aptly applying ordinary things in our talk to some godly use, or religious observation; our feet not swift to go after folly; nor our hand dealing with deceit; I say as this illuminative beam of divine Grace doth enlighten our thoughts, making us full of high and heavenly wisdom in all our ways; so in like manner it warmeth our affection towards others; melting the bowels of our compassion into a more than superficial charitableness, and loving mindedness unto all men, whereby with tenderness we always construe their lives and actions in the better sense, and do sincerely wish, pray for, and desire even the salvation of every one; but specially zealous of the good of our friends, as of our own; and therefore are we almost ready with David, many times to cry out, O Absalon my Son, my Son, my Father, my Child, my Wife, my Brother, my Friend, poor soul, would to God I had died for thee: and as sorrowing, so again rejoicing for no other prosperity so much as for their souls happiness; and that too, not so much for any private relation betwixt them and us, as for that we know it is most, acceptable unto God, because we do now verily make an higher account of God's glory, then of our own good; and therefore do we as it were bear on our shoulders the care of God's people, heartily praying that all as well as ourselves may thus taste and see how gracious the Lord is, how full of mercy and compassion; so true, find we that of Saint john, in 1. Epistle, the 4. Chapter, That he who loveth God, must love his neighbour also.  

This is the Touchstone to a sacred soul,  
Whereby the truth of her Religion's known;  
If that her neighbour's grief she can condole,  
With as due sense as if it were her own.   
Bonum est sui diffusivum, 'tis the nature of true goodness to be willing to have others participate of it; sure then he is not really good in himself, who is niggardly straightened in his bowels of affection towards others; but he who hath perfectly received within himself that good which cometh down from the Father, and Fountain of all Goodness, cannot but be so full in himself, in his own heart, that he must needs run over with a liberal good will and affection of good unto others. His Liberality of affection unto others, doth also reach it self forth into a godly patience, in bearing the injuries & wrongs of men, we can be reasonable well content, to put up these sufferings, which the malice of our fellow creatures doth inflict, because we know them to be sent to us by God's appointment, and we have so much trust and confidence in his love towards us; that we cannot think, he will suffer any thing to light on us for our hurt, with whom we are so dear joined in our inner men; believing that as he hath sent affliction for our advantage, so he will not suffer us to be tempted above what we shall through his mercy be able to undergo; that he will be sure to have that care of us, as to take it away again in due season, when it shall be most convenient for us. And here O Lord considering thy diligent care over us, in all the dangers and chances of this life, we cannot but truly say, O what is man, what is man that thou art thus mindful of him, or the Son of man that thou visitest him with such abundant of loving kindness? one would think with the Poet, that Non vacat exiguis rebus adesse jovi.  
That then O Lord who art so far above the earth, so far surpassing, that innumerable number of stars in the Heaven; the least of which is much bigger than many worlds; nay, so far surpassing those Heavens of stars, and many millions of Heavens; besides even farther than all the capacities of mankind are able any ways to conceive or imagine; one would think I say in humane reason, that thou that art so exceeding and infinitely great and glorious, should not be at leisure so much as to think on such poor atoms, such contemptible nothings as we are; much less to take notice of us with such affection of love. O Lord the greatness of thy love is not to be imagined.  
We may take notice in our soul's experience, that the prosperous success of religion, and the long uninterrupted continuance of grace within us; as it maketh us bold with God through his mercies; so it maketh us also humble; bold I say, not proud; although nature be very frequently apt and endeavouring in us to take too much upon her, and to mistake God's gifts and graces for her own proper powers faculties & endowments; as bold, so I say again, it maketh us humble in our own selus and weakness; such is the amiable brightness of the divine Essence, that the more we apprehend the infiniteness, and purity thereof, the more we seem in ourselves to admire, to want and to thirst after it, and even with unsatiable love to desire perfection for this nearer apprehension of the Almighty, who giveth us light more clearly to see the grossness, and obliquity of our own imperfections, whereby with humility we loath and abhor what we are of ourselves, so that our least sins in the time of grace seem greater than our greatest in the time of sin. And therefore do we now use at such time with a more than ordinary love and admiration, to value God's blessings at a higher rate, our thoughts being full of thankfulness for that plenty of goodness, which at other times perhaps we can scarce think on. O Lord if we consider it, thy mercies, thy sweet mercies are renewed unto us, not only every morning, but every moment; what minute is there that we are not greatly beholding unto thee, O Lord.  

In that we live, in that we draw our hreath,  
In that we are not in eternal death,  
'tis all thy mercies, as liberty, and wealth.  
Our food, our raiment, and our saving health.   
Thus far the prosperous gale of God's favour doth carry us pleasantly on in the course of Religion; but when the storm ariseth, we are presently overwhelmed with the boisterous Waves of wrath, of lust, of distrustful fear, of impatiency, and the like; so that we were never formerly so blessedly refreshed with that heavenly calm, as we are now again miserably troubled, and tossed with this unhappy tempest; there is no constancy to be looked for in this life▪ but specially is our unhappy nature most unconstant to persist in these more divine, and sin-forsaking courses; it may be we may with sufficient deliberation vow, resolve and go on a while, to use such and such means, and helps as perchance Fasting, Watching, or the like, for the prevention of our frequent falls, and to keep on in a less floating, and uncertain manner in our way to Heaven: but alas, usually either these courses are quickly left of again, or else they be so dull and lazily performed, that the continuance of them is to little purpose, so that three or four months at a time is a great while for us to be free men, lively and at our own disposal ● the service of God; and then doubtless after our old course must we return with shame, like fools unto the stocks; or as saith the Apostle Like the dog unto hi● vomit, and the Sow unto her wallowing in the mire; but now the wont use and long acquainted experience of sinning in time doth dull the sense of conscience; making sin not to be so strange, and fearful a thing unto ●● as in former times in the minority of our days; O youth, thou thou I say, art the prime and golden age for Religion, thou art that lovely one, whom the Lord delighteth in, even fairer than the tents of Kedar, or the Curtains of Solomon. To go on, heretofore the terror thereof (I mean of grosser sins) would stattle us like a Bug bear, and make our souls quickly tender, and sore with the sense of grief; but at lengthin continued use, what through the subtlety of Satan, and our accustomed familiarity with sin, we are for the most part nothing at all so deeply affected with it, we have been now so long habituated thereunto, that we can easily sit down and sleep in it, I say sleep and perchance fall into a dead sleep to, unless we take great heed of the danger.  

Unless with good and well advised care,  
In its due time we can thereof beware.   
For we shall find, that unless we do forthwith in short time after the sin, that gross and conscience-daring sin that we commit, take advantage of the sadness which it leaves in our souls, to convert it into repentant grief, and that it work a settled and serious dejection in us, it is seldom that we shall so soon, or so conveniently meet again with the like helpful means to lift ourselves out of this pit of destruction. When as the cloud of sin settles for a while upon our souls; and that we walk as it were blind fold in the darkness thereof; it is observable, that yet notwithstanding we may peradventure in that mean space now and then by the by a little drowsily shug up ourselves with a lazy kind of ill will against our sinful wretchedness, and with a dreaming detestation, and abhorring of our unrighteousness; but all that doth us little good in the end, if our repentance be not thoroughly and lively performed, if we do not even with violence break off the bonds of iniquity, and cast away her cords from us, it never doth discharge our consciences, or ease us perfectly of the guilt of sin.  
The Occasional means which are wont to bring us to a truly deep and serious repentance are divers; many times that sense of sadness, which as I say, sin, greater sins, leaves behind in the soul immediately after the committing, is a special and effectual help to work our delivery from the danger thereof. Sometimes also this thing or accident puts it in us sometimes that, as the trerible fierceness of Thunder, Lightning, Tempests, and the like fearful dangers will perchance strike this serious consideration to our hearts, Lord what a case are we in, if we should be presently snatched away with this sudden judgement, being now in our sins? and therefore if it will please God to spare us this time, sure we will thoroughly repent, and stand in no such hazard hence forward. Sometimes the apprehension of Mortality, and the shortness of our life will bring us to think with ourselves that oh how shall we put off our reconciliation with God any longer; for we see that we be all as at the point of death, every day, one or other is departing from us to his everlasting Mansion: we know with the Apostle, that the end of all things is at hand, that there is no abiding for us here; and therefore what manner of men ought we to be, how diligent and careful to make our peace with God, and prevent the worst whilst we are sure of time? Sometimes again the afflictions of this world, and the consideration of the vain pursuit of all earthly things, with the which men do so generally rejoice and triumph; as when we see the rich man swelling in his credit, the swaggering Gallant shining in his clothes, the honourable man deifying himself in his state;  

When that we see men foolishly bestow  
Their whole affections on these things below.   
This I say doth call home our thoughts to make up our accounts, and hope for Heaven, for that we see there is nothing but toilsome and deceitful vanity upon earth. Sometimes also our preparation for the Lords Supper, when we undertake the punctual and due examining of ourselves for that holy duty, doth cause us so to dig out our consciences into a bleeding sorrow, that we can rightly perform that cheerful resolution of the mind which is requisite to an hearty renewning repentance, & amendment of life. O Repentance, Repentance (under Christ jesus) thou only Saviour of Mankind, who can value thy worth? thou art to the soul of man above all the gold and precious stones in the world; as rich as Heaven itself; how many noble and great men have desired to see thy face, and could not see it? and yet behold thou dost use to dwell in the lowest dust, even with the humble, broken and contrite heart. And again, thou soul that enjoyest this most rich and happy treasure: O for God's sake, I say for God's sake, slight it not; but hug it, joyfully embrace it, and keep it close unto thee, it is the richest jewel that can com● from Heaven.  

It is that Crown that Saints hereafter wear,  
When they in perfect glory shall appear.   
The opinion it is perhaps of some men, that for those sins which we have heretofore truly repent us of, we need not at any time account our selus guilty afterwards, because the score is discharged, and as it were struck off in the sight of God: a judgement doubtless not without its reason, and yet me thinks not altogether consentaneous to experience; for though in repentance, it may be we do not usually charge our thoughts with so particular and fresh a remembrance of our ancient sins, as of these which we have committed since our last humiliation; yet shall we ever hold ourselves to stand guilty, and in danger of all our sins, even those very sins which we had particularly repent of before, because we do take ourselves to be in such terms with God, that though hedoth fully pardon us, yet is it always on condition that wec should perform that Covenant which we make with him of better obedience; and then the breach of this Coveant, upon condition of the performance whereof (as we conceive) we are forgiven, doth render us liable again to God's justice for all our sins; I say the Covenant which we make with him of better obedience. For it is sure and certain, that we do never truly repent, but that we do make or renew this Covenant with God to obey him better afterwards. Without question a Christians li●e is nothing but a continual rising and falling, a falling by sin, a rising by repentance.  

Our life's a race, wherein the surest feet  
In running long with many falls do meet.   
And though some men carry themselves in such a steady constant course that they never fall much; yet many men fall more shrewdly at sometimes of their age then at some; and most men without question at one time or other fall dangerously, and without God's special grace irrecoverably; As there is a time when David rejoiceth, saying, surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever; So there is also another time when he saith, there is no health in my flesh, because of thy displeasure, neither is there any rest in my bones, by reason of my sin: my wounds stink, and are corrupt through my foolishness, etc. Sin maketh such deep wounds in the soul, that if we foolishly neglect to dress them often, and tent them thoroughly, they quickly fester inwardly, and prove dangerous; and therefore justly eonsidering this dangerousness in the state of the soul to be usual amongst men, and specially in David, that holy man, that more than ordinary man, even that man made aftet Gods own heart; as also remembering the solicitous heed and care of that more excellent vessel of holiness S. Paul over himself, in the words of his in the ninth to the Corinthians, the 27. verse, Lest that by any means when I have preached unto others, I myself should be a Castaway; it makes us always, methinks nor without cause to stand in fear of our spiritual condition: not daring in our best comforts so to set ourselves at rest, as though we were wholly out of the reach of unhappiness; the often trial of our patience, our wisely considered experience in heavenly things, together with the comfort of the Scripture, according to Saint Paul in his fifth and fifteenth Chapters to the Romans, May give us a strong and confident hope, that we shall not enter into condemnation, but through his mercy be saved in the day of the Lord; for we are boldly persuaded that we are in God's favour; and persuaded too, I say persuaded, that neither life nor death, nor Angels, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ our Lord; and yet for all that, we know we are now but on the sea, not in the Haven; the sea of danger, not the Haven of perfect safety; we cannot therefore be high minded in our thoughts, but fear, fear and carefully take heed, lest we fall; specially when as we are conscious to ourselves of a nature which is so weak, so apt, and ready to fall into the greatest, and most dangerous sins. O Lord and most merciful Father, there is nothing perfect in this life: here we have some joy, and some sorrow, some assurance, some fear, some knowledge, some ignorance mingled together; for now we know but not in part, saith the Apostle, hereafter we shall know to the full now our soul is only persuaded of her future state; she taketh some remote glimpse as it were of her salvation, but no full sight thereof: for we are saved by hope (saith Saint Paul) but hope that is seen is not hope; for what a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for hereafter? when she hath finished her course, and fulfilled her days she shall fully know and be resolved in the matter; & as we hope to be thoroughly satisfied with the everlasting enjoyment & therefore for the present condition of this our life, we may take up that expression of the Poet, Ante obitum nemo supremaque funcra faelix. 
None be called happy rightly may,  
Before his last and dying day.   
Ye pious and devout souls that are now in the state of grace, bless, O bless the Lord your God and magnify his name with all humility; for what is it that all of us are not damnable wretches, and most unhappy miscreants, but only his mercy? What have we at all that we have not received? O let us then take heed, take heed I say lest our hearts be hardened with stubborness and self opinion; hath not the Potter power over his Clay? may not the spiritual Husbandman break off the Olive branches, and graft them in at his pleasure? O the depth of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God how unsearchable are all his judgements! and his ways past finding out, for who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his Counsellor? And thus have we briefly dispatched, the first and better part of our business; I mean this History of the soul endued with grace.  

Now than our thoughts must leave their Eagle slight,  
And down a while top addle in the dirt,  
Behold and see what policy and might,  
The Devil can show forth to do us hurt.   
When God le's lose this roaring Lion, O what destruction doth he bring upon us; how strongly and cunningly doth he hold fast our souls in sin? how intricately are we entangled by his snares, that we cannot get out? the heart (saith jeremy) is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it? indeed it is a most hard matter to find out all the strength and subtlety of sin in a wicked soul; for the Devil when he gets possession specially in a more Melancholy heart; like a Want, makes his works few above ground; but hath many secret passages and Maeanders under: the close contrived crannies whereof, although we cannot fully search and track out; yet God willing we shall the more open and principal courses, in this ensuing Part.   

Of the Soul ensnared in sin.  
NEmo repent fuit turpissimus; Sin creeps on by degrees; but woe is us to what an exceeding height, and to what intolerable an increase is it able to grow? grow I say, heavier than the sand of the Sea in weight, and more in number; even sufficient to fill whole volumes: for who is able to find out all his iniquities, or reckon up his sins? who knoweth, saith David, how often he offendeth? Sin in a wicked soul is so unmerciful a thing, that it hath no limits nor bounds of extent; it is that overflowing Flood in the Scriptures, which drowned the old inhabitants of the earth; it is that raging sulphurous fire which burned up the Cities of the ungodly; or if you will that Phaeton's fire amongst the Poets, which inflamed the whole world; for no sooner do we let at liberty our affections from the yoke of discipline and good order, from that narrow path, and rule of virtue,  
In cujus medio tutissimus ibis,  
O man, in the midst of which thou safely mightst go, but presently we act out the true Moral of Phaeton's Fable. Phaeton let lose the reins to his frolic Horses, and they carry him (as the fiction goes) to the firing of the world, and his own destruction; we do but let go the reins to our will and affections, and they carry us likewise headlong to our unavoidable destruction, and to the setting on fire of this Microcosm, this little world of ours; here we may well note, that Religio a religando vere dicta est, Religion is truly so called from tying back the affections; and therefore now when once conscience doth thus let slip the reins of discipline, and its due care of the soul, our little world, as I say, is all on fi●e; our thoughts, desires, and affections being as it were without God and his fear, are altogether flaming with the distempered heat of worldly cares, of ambitious projects, of lustful courses, of impatio●t distractions, and the like; these things do freely range abroad in t●e mind, do take their pleasure and pastime therein.  

Like School boys, when their Master's gone away,  
They presently are at their roguish play:  
Just so, when that the Conscience leaves to rule  
Our thoughts, the Devil forthwith keeps the School.   
And because our inside is thus unframed with disorder, that we neglect Religion, and leave off the necessary managing and manuring of the soul by repentance; sin by little and little, becomes habitual unto us, an ordinary and unregarded thing; so that in a while Melancholy making the mind more eager and intentively let in all its courses, what either by being drawn to the impatient expectation of what we would have, by feeding ourselves with the pleasing fruition of that we do enjoy, or vexing ourselves with the fear of what may befall us, or with the grief of that which doth already disaffect us, it is so, that for the most part there is very little space wherein our fancy is not in action with some one of these; such and such like things do so seriously take up our time, and so earnestly employ our thoughts that our minds can hardly get leave at any time to be at leisure for the common duties of Christianity: for when at our necessary opportunities, we go about to read the Scriptures, to meditate on good matters, or pray unto the Almighty; how exceeding difficult is it for us to draw off our imagination from those other things, and set it upon these? or if we do take it off, it is but as in haste with a longing to be at them again: As also that little praying, meditating, or reading which we do at any time now employ ourselves in, doth altogether methinks pass away without any sweetness in't; it hath no more relish to us (for the most part) then even as it were a rotten stick, or a thing of nought; so superficially doth it slip away on the outside of our souls.  

In every thing, 'tis the delightful sweet  
Thereof, that doth with our affection meet.   
I say, It is the sweetness thereof that joins it closely to the thoughts, and unites it to the affections; and therefore these duties and the like being so out of relish with us, we have but little mind on them, we coldly regard them, and in a manner wholly neglect them; or if peradventure the fashion of the times tend thereunto, and that we can smoothly stop up the mouth of truth-knowing Conscience with some daubing satisfaction: we may, I say, we may some of us retain the outside, when we have lost the inside; we may seem to be delighted with an oral formality, when as it is no whit cordial within us; like unto shallow brooks that make a great noise with a little water; the shadow still continuing with us, whilst the substance is stolen away. But to go on in that way which is most usual: I say, The substantial deepness of true inward pleasure and delight in divine things being rooted up, pulls away with it the outward use of reading, meditating, and the like: so that we are seldom conversant in these things, although the liberty of our time give us opportunity for it never so conveniently: for it is to be noted, a truly willing mind can find out shreds enough of time to bestow in that way, even in the busiest and most industrious Calling. And as for that more excellent gift of the Spirit, Prayer, that Princely Diadem amongst all heavenly graces, from whence all other divine blessings do borrow some lustre and advantage; how far is the familiar acquaintance thereof gone from our souls? when as all our private devotion is now posted off to the public; and that also so slenderly and coldly performed by us, that the practice thereof is held on, it may be, rather for fashion sake then devotion; more with the motion of our lips then with the affection of the heart; following the public exercise rather for fear of shame and reproach; I say, rather to keep touch and turn with the common Custom, than out of any religious care or good will thereunto: for though the Sabbath be but once a week, yet shall we most times be then glad, if occasion be handsomely offered us to 'bide at home, and omit that duty.  

It is too wet, or else it is too cold;  
And we can pray even as well here as there:  
These poor excuses, they are quickly told,  
When as God knows we pray not any where.   
Again, as Prayer, so the Hearing of the Word is as much neglected by us, or as ill used, when we now sit at Sermons, it is more perchance with a censorious ear, like Moderatours to give judgement, and pass our opinion, rather than as diligent Auditors, with humble hearts to receive instruction. If the Preacher doth but meanly perform his exercise, we are then ready to slight it, as a thing below us, and not worth our heeding: but if he go beyond us in his Learning and good parts, we are on the other side peradventure disconted in ourselves, for that he exceedeth the reach of our capacity and qualification: for lo, we feel and find as in this, so in all other things (it is worth observation) we find, I say, that Nature is always so partial unto itself, that it is never thoroughly pleased, and fully contented, except every thing succeed to the setting up of itself, and its own advancement; and therefore that it hath got the advantage, it taketh its full selfe-contenting pleasure, and recreation without control; diverting the whole course of our thoughts, words, and actions to serve its turn herein: yet for although conscience hath lost its prevailing command within us, nevertheless it ceaseth not ever and anon to give us a call, and perhaps amidst our chiefest and securest sins, awaken us with a deep touching item, and remembrance of ourselves; but only flashing up our eyes we fall asleep again: and thus act on the story.  

Navita de ventis, de tauris narrat arator,  
Enumer at miles vulnera, pastor oves.   

The Ploughman of his ox,  
The Shipman tells his mind,  
The Shepherd keeps his sheep,  
The Soldier wounds in mind.   
Every one, saith the Poet, thinks and talks most of that which he hath most to do with, and doth most affect; and here nature principally begins to play her part, and show her affection; ourself accusing, and impatient mind cannot abide the rehearfall of miseries; unhappiness and affliction; the hideous news of such things is too rough for our tender thoughts to meddle with; whatever come of it hereafter, we must by all means put off for the present, as far as may be from us that day of the Lord, and righteous retribution of his most just vengeance: again, also the deadness of heart maketh our soul to loath abhor and leave off to hear and speak of holy and pious subjects, as the dispraise of vice, the commendation of virtue; the manner and means of Mortification; of Sanctification, of our Redemption, and the like; snuffling away all such matters if it be possible, into other discourse: because we feel our hearts so dead and rotten inward, that these things do nothing else but secretly speak the Condemnation and shame of our own lives: and therefore when as out of the abundance of the heart (as saith our Saviour) the mouth speaketh, therefore I say on the other side, our thoughts being alway. for the most part vainly and outwardly disposed; our delight is to be talking of vanity all the day long, to be ask after, and telling of news, whereby to claw our idle fancy with, or it may be questioning how rich others be, what condition they are in, how they do thrive and the like; our Melancholy thoughts mainly labouring with emulation against others: and such verily is always the rivality and inward striving betwixt equals, or those that be near equals in the same kind, that sure I cannot think that it is a quality much less than natural unto all mankind, so to contend in affectation of desire; this emulation was there amongst the Patriarches when they sold joseph, and amongst the Apostles when they vieed who should be the greatest: and thus our minds being so wholly set on earthly things, and things of this world, it is seldom that we can think upon those men that are in a little better prosperity than ourselves, but with the eye of envious emulation, counting it as so much the worse for us, and an eyesore to our state and reputation that they go beyond us; and again taking it as it were somewhat the better for us; and applauding ourselves in content therewith, if they fall out and appear to be somewhat under the condition that we ourselves are in; thus as we do enviously think that too much which our successful neighbours have, and enjoy, and swell after their happiness with indignation at our own; so also are we many times unhappy in our own happiness without any comparison at all, or in respect of others; but merely in ourselves, and in regard of our own bottomless desires, thinking all too little that we have, although we do not think of any that have more; just as the Poet, in a similitude of covetous men,  Quo plus sunt potae plus sitiuntur aquae, 
The more they drink, the more they are athirst: so may we truly say of ourselves, in the words of the Prophet Habakkuk, Chap. 3, We enlarge our desire as hell and as death, which cannot be satisfied. What we have already, methinks, serves but as the sauce to set an edge to the stomach to receive more, as if we had a consuming Wolf in our breast, or those two daughters of the Horseleech which Solomon speaks of in Prov. 30, which have no other language but continual crying out, Give, give more still, and yet more, and yet no content.  

He is not rich whose mind doth keep him poor;  
He only hath enough, that seeks no more.   
Nay farther, our apprehension is apt to be so subtly deluded with this vice, that, as if avarice were a virtue, we shall be ready to think and say, of any one that is an hard and unreasonably-neer man in his dealings and commerce with others, and that will stand out for the utmost farthing in every thing, though it be never so justly due and to be yielded unto; of such a one, I say, who hath cunningly learned to oppress the poor man by the advantage of his necessity, we shall be ready thus to think and say, I warrant he is wise enough, he will look to himself, he will not be fooled of his goods; taking his example as a lawful pattern for us to imitate. But of one that is a conscionable, honest and plaindealing man, that will not stand so eagerly, nor practise such policy for gain; we are likely to judge him as an easy fool, and not wise enough to live in the world. But O alas, one day, one day peradventure we shall see that the wisdom of this world is foolishness with God; acknowledging our mistake herein as they did, who once said in the sorrowful conviction of their souls: We fool's counted this man's life (this quiet honest man's life) madness, and his end to be without honour: but see! how is he numbered amongst the children of God, and his lot is amongst the Saints: therefore have we erred. When the soul (having forsaken God) begins to go alone, and to trust to its own strength, so full do we presently grow with superfluity of outward Sense and humane Wisdom, that be we never so lightly touched with any thing which seems to waste and decay our temporal subsistence; if once our Egyptian staff, this confidence on outward things never so little begin to crack; how are we ready to fall in●o utter despair? Sure we cannot continue with such a charge; we cannot hold out long in such losses or expenses: our narrow hearts, Nabal-like, grunting and grumbling for fear that we shall not have enough for ourselves to live by. O thou unhappy soul of man in all distresses, doubts and calamities!  

What patience or comfort canst thou have,  
Who trustest in such things that cannot save?   
Now and then, like prisoners within the Grate, we may look out into the fresh air, and see the golden happiness of the day, though we cannot get out and enjoy it: we shall peradventure now sometimes think upon Repentance, and gaze afar off on the joyful condition of the soul, desiring that we could be delivered from this bondage of sin: nay, and it may be we do also strive somewhat, and endeavour our thoughts thereunto; but alas, it takes no firm holdfast in our breasts, it goes not thorough the heart, nor seriously to the quick as it should; but suddenly it passeth away again without effect: or if it doth take any hold in us, it is very momentany & of short continuance obscured quickly with the clouds of sin, and altogether forgotten; for let us know that Conscience even in the freest and fullest pursuit of sin is many times, so real and urgent with us, that it will not be slighted, but either by excusing ourselves, by mitigating the nature of sin, by a seeming repentance, or the like, we must needs give it some content, though it be but as a mere dulusion for the time, and to no purpose at all; but I prosecute the pattern of our intention; in like manner as Melancholy joined with solitary privacy is wont to make good Meditations in the time of grace take the deeper root in nature; so likewise it being united with a retired solitariness maketh evil thoughts in the time of sin much more stubbornly to persist within us, cleaving a great deal the faster to our apprehension, and fixing a far sore impression in our souls.  

Sad Melancholy is truly then in kind,  
When silence locks the closet of the mind.   
Then doth mischief take greatest advantage when it gets the soul to be alone by herself; for Homo solus aut deus aut daemon, the solitary and alone man is usually either exceeding good in his thoughts, or exceeding bad; and therefore now we find out of due experience now I say when as grace is not able to master our corruption, that it is much better for us to use a sociable and jocund behaviour towards others, addressing ourselves in a complying Familia ity with good honest company in civil recreation, then to be much retired alone, though it may seem more strict, because this verily is many times a means to put us from far worse things and greater inconveniences; natures that are composed to Melancholy, we may fitly conceive to be much like Iron, which receives a greater heat of fire into it, and retains it longer than those things which are of a rare and thin substance; for we always feel these solitary, these sad and melancholy sins of ours to be of a far deeper dye, and to wound our Consciences more dangerously than those other lighter kind of sins, those merry, as I may so call them, and superficial sins: these sad ones, I say, are worse, because they are moulded with deliberation in the heart, and come from a settled goodwill and determinate intention; but those other, those merry ones, are only for the most part as sudden flashes arising more inconsiderately, and passing away as a guest of one night.  
Well, to proceed in Anatomising the particulars of this our now sinsick soul: The wicked, saith Solomon, fleeth when none pursueth him. An evil Conscience having moved the foundation of our Spiritual comfort, every bush is a thief with us, every thing becomes our enemy, though not really, yet in conceit. How often and how apt are we now presently to terrify, disquiet and affright ourselves at nothing, perchance but at the very shadow of things? for but thus, if we fall out with any neighbour or others into enmity and discontent; if but once we drink into our breasts a perfect distaste, there's no digesting, no forgetting, nothing but vexing in our souls: so many eager, fearing and fretful thoughts do constantly boil up in our stomaches against him, that from thence for a good while together, whole clouds of fears, of doubts and distempers do solicitously overwhelm and pass over our heads: so that specially if we speak not with the party in a pretty space after, our close-kept thoughts are peradventure full of expecting his supposed malice is ready to do us the greatest mischief that may be, and so again are we thereupon hatching and preparing perchance like motions of revenge against him, conceiving some cruel tyranny wherewith to satisfy ourselves upon him, little considering that all this while for the most part we do but fight with our own fancy, fearing where no fear is, and conceiving revenge where there is no cause of revenge: for at length having spoken with our adversary, and unfolded ourselves together, we shall most times find that he hath scarce had any the least ill imagination against us; and so by a true hearted disclosing our mind one to the other, we are perhaps easily undeceived, and become friends again: whereas the muing up ourselves from our enemy in a melancholy strangeness and squint-eyed retire, might breed a continual and a deep Conscience-wounding grudge betwixt us.  

The sullen man that's discontent.  
bis life ne'er wanteth woe:  
If nothing else will him torment,  
his fancy proves his foe.   
Moreover, the peevishness of our Nature, in like manner, for want of the confirming strength of Grace, is always apt to construe the words and actions of our enemy to the worst, taking every thing to be done by him either in despite, or malicious disgrace and contempt of us; eagerly affecting and troubling ourselves with that conceited fury of our enemy, which perchance is not in him; or if it be, it is that thing which we ought rather to pity then fight with; even common Christianity teaching us to have more wit and godly advisedness, then as Solomon saith, to meddle with a fool in his folly, or with a madman in his madness; with an unmanly weakness o● mind childishly in the same sense to reply again to that his madness and fury; but in stead thereof rather mildly and charitably to entertain his foolish humour, knowing ourselves also subject unto all infirmities. But we cannot refrain; this is our humour; we must needs deal back again the words and deeds that we do receive. Alas, how sweet is the desire of Retaliation and Revenge to the solitary nature, being without the directing power of Godliness? how can we put up such and such things? how can we choose but retort again, Oh that we were so rich, so powerful as thus and thus? what an happiness were it then for us to be able to crush our enemies, and to cut them off as we would desire?  

Invidiâ Siculi non invenere Tyranni  
Tormentum majus ----------------   

Envy's a greater torture to the mind  
Then the Sicilian Tyrants ere did find.   
This is Envy, to our souls the very devil of all sins, that hellish tormentor of a melancholy mind, which wearies our thoughts with continual anguish and vexation of spirit. O Lord, when we well consider the whole scope of a sinful man, or this man of sin which is within us, we cannot choose but think how true it is which the Prophet Isaiah speaks by thy special command, Isai. 48. 22. that there is no peace unto the wicked: no peace, I say, not only in regard of the sting of conscience which follows sin, but also in regard of the ensnaring and toilsome trouble of sin itself▪ Woe is us truly, no peace indeed; with one thing or other we are still out of quiet, either sin by n●useating distempers doth disturb the health of the body, or by laborious and far engaged passions doth unsettle the rest of the mind. What peace at all is there long within us? either immoderate fear, or care, or grief, or desire, is ever oppressing our thoughts. And here observe it, whilst that we walk with God, we are methinks fenced about with his favour, so that none can hurt us; for his Angels do pitch their tents for a guard round about them that serve him. But now for want of faith, what do we not fear? how far without reason doth this passion extend in our melancholy soul, even almost into an infinite conceit? for as a Circle made in the water begets another Circle bigger than itself, and so that another again bigger than itself, increasing thus I know not how far; just so the doubts and fears of our mind, by solitary plodding upon them, will beget bigger and bigger, and so bigger still without end: thus where there is no faith, there is no end of fear: fear and unbelief have the like proportion in us, and must needs go hand in hand together, as it is Revel. 21, the fearful, and unbelieving, and abominable, etc. Again, what troubles doth the mind now many times undergo in the immoderate ho and care for things to come, in labouring to prevent and provide for such and such accidents, with the utmost of our power.  

And yet perchance it doth no whit prevail;  
A strange event makes all our labour fail.   
Many, even many is the time that we are unspeakably vexed with the forthinking and contriving of that which in the end never comes to pass; I say, vexed by framing of hopes, of intendments, and expectations upon these and these things, which most times one means or other, God's providence or death doth quite disappoint and cut off, according as it is in Psalm 146. 4; for when the breath of man goeth forth, he shall return to his earth, and then all his thoughts perish: all his thoughts, even all the former hopes, expectations and imaginations of his heart: Blessed therefore, blessed is he, as it follows in the next verse, that hath the God of Jacob for his hope, and whose trust is in the Lord his God. Blessed is he that herein can take the easy yoke of our Saviour upon him, by casting his care upon God; thereby saving all that needless labour of too earnest carefulness and distrusting trouble of mind for the morrow, because sufficient for the day is its own trouble.  

But to tell on the souls unquiet state,  
When sin doth thus become predominate,   
So uncontented and so eagerly frappish are we apt to be, through the uneasiness of the soul for want of true inward rest and satisfaction; I say, so full of wrath, of passion and anger in all our thoughts, businesses and affairs, that the least and smallest occasion, is enough to make us fret, chafe, aed be most furiously moved with those either equals or inferiors with whom we have to do; we cannot choose but unsheathe our passionate fury and outrageous disturbance, into cniding and unquietness; we can by no means bridle ourselves in the least degree; our humour must have its course; and then perchance afterwards, our thoughts reflecting upon themselves, do secretly check us, and make us sorry again for this our rashness, heartily wishing that we had not done so, and that we were at one with the party as before; only that we be loath to confess so much, or bewray the acknowledgement of our own error. See the disquieting unhappiness of sin! If we do not thus vent our wrath, we can be at no rest for fretting inwardly: and if we do vent it, we are displeased with ourselves for doing it impatiently and undiscreetly: others cannot please us, and we cannot please ourselves: What peaceful harmony of concord or content can there then be to our souls? I say, Others cannot please us; for nature hath so out of all reason bend us to our own courses, to our own mind, to our own wills in every thing, ut ferè nihil placet quod non nostrum est; that almost nothing contents us, but that which is of our own doing and contriving; it even cuts to the gall to be any way crossed and contradicted in our intentions and desires: when we have once took an opinion, let it be advised by whom it will be, stiffnecked nature being uncontrolled by grace, it is so obstinate in her own sense, that 'tis as death for her not to have it go and be acknowledged in her own way; and therefore let it fadge how it will, we must, I say, we must needs prevail in contending, though it be for the worse: and when at length we have thus peradventure through much difficulty obtained our desire, and gotten our wills fulfilled, even then also are not our thoughts happy therein: though for the present it might seem to delight us, yet are we not long well pleased therewith in ourselves; nay, perhaps that also in the end gives our mind little satisfaction; 'tis nothing but our conceit, nothing but that we would have it so, and then would it had not been so; this is the course of it: so little peace of mind is there to that soul which is without God, and left alone in the snare of sin.  
Sure enough it is, O let us observe it; I say, Sure enough, that our own will is always our worst enemy, could we but consider it: nay methinks, for all she seems to be as our only friend, yet in truth we have no other enemy can do us hurt, but only her: not the malice of all the creatures, men and devils in the world, are able to bring upon us the least unhappiness without her help.  

He that can then his own affections quell,  
Doth even as much as if he conquered hell.   
It is this Own self and Will of ours that parts us from God, joins us in society with the devil; and thus brings us at length (if not prevented by Grace) to the certain destruction both of body and soul. It is our Saviour's counsel, that if our eye, hand, or other member offend us, we should cut it off, and cast it from us: this doubtless is a most difficult thing, a hard saying, for a man to cut off his own flesh, that which is so close and near unto him, and indeed I believe that wholly to part ourselves from ourselves, is to divide indivisibilè, that which as long as we continue mortal men, is not to be divided: but to cut off those rank grown extravagancies of our wills, this proud flesh, these limbs of the devil, that must needs be done, if we mean to follow Christ, and enter into heaven, unless together with them we will be cast into hell fire, to follow Christ: for this is the right way to follow him, by denying ourselves; because we plainly find both by his most holy Doctrine, Mark 8. 34, and Example, Mark 14. 36, that his business in this world was not to do any thing of his own will, the will of man, but in all things the will of him that sent him, even the will of God.  
But further; to see what a deal of trouble and unquietness is there always stirring in the sinful mind of man? what a restless vexation another while do the ambitious projects and aspiring motions of our vain imagination put us unto? even so far, that sure methinks it is an Ixion's task, or as a Bridewell-work to undergo the toil that such encroaching and climbing thoughts many times torment us with. How doth our fancy labour to be so great, so high, so rich, that we had such an office or estate, that we were in the condition of such a man and such a man? and thus when we have vainly supposed so far and so far; when, like the Giants of whom the Poets do fable, we have set one mountain of ambitious desires upon another, yet then at last are we as far from satisfaction as they were from heaven.  
Again, in the prosecution of our earthly policy, when the event of things that do much concern us frustrates our expectation, our low creeping minds, that sacrifice only to their own nets, to their own skill and wisdom; how do they snarl themselves in blind conjectures? Lo, this doubtless was the cause that our business took not effect; it should have been done by such or such a means, it such or such a time, with these or these Circumstances; ●yring out ourselves to seek the reason thereof, like those blind men that sought Lot's door and could not find it; never thinking all this while on the Divine providence, which directeth all things, towards which our thoughts ought to aim their first and chief regard: and therefore it is that oftentimes we do try so many ways, spend so much time, break so many night's sleep, to no purpose: for sure, Except the Lord keep the City, all our labour is lost, the watchman waketh but in vain. As Jehu answered Jehoram, 2 Kings 9, so may we answer our thoughts, and with sufficient experience resolve ourselves; What peace, content or rest can there be, so long as this Jezebel of sin reigns and remains within us?  

No peace within, nor yet no peace without,  
But full of troubles, toils, and fears, and doubt.  
Our peace with all things utterly doth cease,  
Because with God we do not make our peace.   
And thus on every side we both see and feel it, even too much, to our own grief, That there is no peace unto the wicked. The man of Sin, is a man of Trouble; trouble in his mind with the distractions of sin; trouble in his conscience with fear of judgement; every way disturbed and out of rest: and yet lo, for all this, that there is so much unquietness, and trouble, and discontent in our sins, we are so strongly hampered and engaged therein, that there is no power in us to break off the bands thereof, or cast away her cords from us: through the habituated continuance therein, it is so hard and difficult for us to repent, I mean, fully and perfectly to repent, that it goes even against might to think of making up a reckoning and an account with God: we are so totally as it were turned into sin itself, I mean, such an invincible disposition of sinning in all our conversation, that O who shall deliver us from this body of death? what course can we take to come out of this unhappiness? 'Tis high time to look about us, to raise our thoughts to some better notions: but such is the difficulty of true Repentance, that we cannot go thorough stitch with it; but this and this opportunity is still put off with excuses, with the presumptuous and flattering conceit that God's mercy is infinite; we have had often and often trial of it; Doubtless we shall have some better time and more fitting season hereafter. But we who find it so hard a matter at this time, a thousand to one but that we find it more difficult the next: the longer we continue in sin without due Repentance, the more methinks are we entangled with it, and daily snarled the faster from getting out. O therefore let us take heed in time, and duly consider this, all we that now forget God; Consider this, I say, whilst we have time afforded us, lest in his wrath he suddenly pluck us away, and there be none to deliver us.  
Here it is observable, according to what I have formerly intimated, that, though not usually, yet sometimes the Conscience is so cunningly daubed up, that it seems within us to be as well satisfied with the outward formality of Religion, as if it were in the state of grace and true reconciliation: our mouths and the outside of our thoughts do draw near unto God, when-as our hearts, the true depth of our heart, is far from him, even full of nothing but dead men's bones, the rottenness and corruption of sin: we are, I say, thus so smoothly deluded in ourselves, that we can seem boldly to challenge acquaintance with Christ, and perhaps think that we are able to boast of great matters in his Name, and yet for all that peradventure as it was with those in the Gospel, Mat. 7. peradventure, I say, Christ himself may never so much as know or acknowledge one jot of Christianity within us: but this deceitfulness of Religion, this superficial delight is easily discerned, if we mark it well, both by ourselves and others, in that it is frequently wont to vent itself into a partial siding, contentious talking, partaking and debating as those of whom the Apostle speaks, that fell out about their Religion; I am of Paul, I am of Apollo, I am of Cephas; taking the shadow for the substance, and mistaking the truth thereof, as though it were a thing so shallowly seated in the soul, that it consisted in wittiness of discourse, sharp understanding, following of Opinions, and the like: no verily, the Kingdom of heaven, Religion and godliness, is not without, as our Saviour saith, but within us, even in the dressing, ordering and managing of our own souls. Indeed  

Our Knowledge without Charity may swell  
Into Contentious strive full of pride:  
But true Religion in that heart doth dwell,  
Where patience, love, and humble thoughts abide.   
what ever or however the Conscience, as I say, may thus be deluded and held in some pleasing satisfaction, finely skinned over for a while with the upper part of Religion; yet in the truth of it, the wound that is so deep, is not so easily cured; this sinfulness of the mind here spoken of, having gotten such time and liberty with us, is not without great difficulty▪ deep sorrow, many prayers, and much carefulness, took off again: and therefore till we can by God's special mercy attain unto this thorough piercing and happy Repentance, there is none so sovereign and helpful a means to prevent the dangerous increase thereof, as is the constant following of a good employment, ever to be doing in one industrious action or another, according to the quality and manner of our life, even in one honest action or other, though it be but to little advantage: so that the Rule is very true, Praestat oriosum esse, quam nihil agere; It were far better for us to be in action with that which is to no purpose, so that we do not sin in it, then to sit still and be altogether idle: for alas, we do by woeful experience find, that Idleness is rightly named The devil's Cushion; being seldom out of one sin or other, whilst we are out of action in some good employment: This Cushion makes the devil so easy a seat, that it is even an invincible work to remove him from our idle souls, or make him sit away: this is his seat, I say, and his shop too; here he freely sits and plies his utmost skill, to mould our thoughts to the very wickedness of his hearts desire; here he sits forging and fashioning all the ugliest forms of sin, and foulest monsters of impiety that ever entered into the heart of man: there is no sin so great, so hellish and inhuman, but Idleness hath been the means to hatch it into the world.  

Quaeritur Aegistus quare sit factus adulter,  
In promptu causa est, desidiosus erat.   

If you demand Aegistus why  
He did commit adultery;  
The cause is easy to be seen,  
Because he hath so idle been.   
And as it hatcheth all sins in the soul, so of all other is it the most kindly Nurse of lust and fleshly desire in our melancholy nature. How doth the fancy hereby become polluted and most grossly defiled with all kind of baseness and obscenity? what inventions doth it frame for the provocation of lust? how closely doth it make us hug the amorous conceits of our enslaved fancy▪ nay, how do we many times hereby so deeply infect our thoughts with this kind of viciousness, that like Lime twigs they are ready to catch hold on every object, converting it to some libidinous and wanton motion, the which perchance sometimes doth cling so fast unto us, that we can scarcely draw off again our imagination from it.  
Again, Idleness and Luxury, the excess of eating and drinking, either in quantity or quality; I say, fullness of bread, and abundance of Idleness, are constant companions together: we that are idle, must needs be luxurious one way or other. And if Saint Paul said that the idle person was not worthy to eat or drink at all; how often and how much do we sin, when as the vanity of our idle souls causeth us to waste so much in superfluity, who are not worthy of sufficiency? O alas, so we live many times, as if we were created for nothing else but to eat and drink. Sure this is not the least, if not the greatest of our sins: for if abstinence be the chiefest help to mortify the flesh, certainly luxury is the chiefest means to quench all goodness of the Spirit: and therefore see in the Gospel the devils desire to enter into the Swine; we hear of no other creature that at any time they desired to enter into, but only, I say, into the gluttonous Swine, that of all other creatures being most uncleanly addicted to its belly; so fit an habitation is the gluttonous and luxurious soul for nothing but devils, but sin and uncleanness.  
But further with the story: our whole man is so utterly disframed and disjointed with sin, that there is no part but is out of order. When we seriously reflect on ourselves and our so great imperfections, we cannot but fetch from within us many a deep sigh, to grieve at this our so great untowardness, thinking thus; How much are we now behind the condition o● the righteous? how miserably do we misspend our time in being vassals unto Satan, and working our own damnation, who might in this time, so ill wasted, have as well made a good progress towards heaven, and attained unto much comfort and proficiency in Religion? O ●ow do we want that light of understanding and retention of Memory in good things which we ought to have? how void are we of devotion to Godwards, that charitableness of affection towards our brethren which we observe in others, that patience and cheerfulness in troubles, that manly constancy in ruling the motions of the soul, as grief, fear, hope, and the like?  

O we alone, we are in each degree  
So frail with sin, there's none so frail as we.   
For behold, we are so crazed and weakened in all the strength and constancy of our mind through sin, that every passion is able to overturn us: either we are too much in fear of the roaring waves of calamity in this world, or too much in love with the pleasing vanities thereof; either we are too hot with the joy of prosperity, or too cold with the grief of adversity; overjoyed with the tickling exaltation of the one, or faint-heartedly dejected and cast down with the other: but of these two specially ought we to be careful and take good heed; there is always, as we may find, a more principal danger in the joy of prosperity; for, saith Moses, Deut. 6, When thou hast eaten and art full, then beware lest thou forget the Lord, etc. Narrow vessels are quickly overfilled: then, then, I say, in our prosperity do we feel ourselves ready to run over the capacity of moderation, apt to grow lawless with unlimited pride, and to forget our reverence to that God which hath created us, and always doth so great things for us: and therefore it was that David said It is good for me that I have been in trouble. Happy is the man that is always ballasted with such a constant steadfastness of mind, that let the wind blow which way it will, can carry his affection with an upright, settled and indifferent moderation; can hold him fast by God in all changes of this life, patiently hoping in him in adversity, humbly rejoicing in him in prosperity, so to rule himself with Saint Paul's resolvedness of mind, Phil. 4, At all times, and in whatsoever state he be, as therewith to be content with satiety, and yet not drunken with excess. See the folly of a sinner, and strange besotted ignorance of our thoughts. Behold,  

We fear the face of man, poor sinful man,  
When of the God of heaven we little scan.   
though we have not much care of it, that our faults are all naked in the presence of God, that the Searcher of hearts knoweth the depth of them, and that they lie open plain enough before our Consciences, yet by no means we would that men should know so much of us; no, let self-loving nature alone to be sure to take heed of this, that no body know it but ourselves: Oh, we may in no wise bewray our infirmities in any particulars: what vain fig-leaves of poor shifts and excuses do we so we together to cover us with, rather than we will be guilty in the sight of men: we shall choose rather, many times, to make two sins of one, then discredit ourselves by Confession; as thus: Perchance when we are reproved for our untowardness, reprehended for our vices, or any thing else be spoken which is harsh unto us, presently is our headstrong and self-accusing nature all on fire with spitesul scorn and ill-will against it, either moved with so much distemper as maliciously to revile the party, or else so deeply stung with inward unquietness, as unsoberly to depart the place, not abiding to hear it any longer; such is our impatient desire of credit, our self-justifying honour on our own parts: But on the other side, to hear the dispraises and reproofs of others, to hear their credit broken by the tongue of envy, that methinks is a contentment and recreation to us; or specially when we meet with them who are inclined to speak against such parties that are out of our liking, than it is meat and drink to us to say Amen, and join with them in the like malevolent and disgraceful speeches. We are, I say, most impatient of reproof, specially if it be laid either sharp and closely unto us, or tedious and over urgent: and truly, though reproof ought humbly to be taken as sent from God justly for our sins, yet many times, through the rigotous application thereof, it proves to our evil natures not only unprofitable, but hurtful, for we find that when a wicked passion, on whatsoever occasion, is stirred up in the height of its fury, 'tis hard to be bridled, and dangerous to be dealt withal: Cain's countenance fell with furious indignation, Gen. 4. 5, and lo the sad effect, it is but the eighth Verse that he slew his brother Abel. It is here worth the marking, that sometimes and in some of us the smooth facility of mind can perhaps jest out, or pleasantly put off those selfsame sins and disgraces which the rough seriousness of others doth take with a great deal of indignation, discontent and shame: the reason thereof partly without doubt is the different disposition of nature, and partly also the experienced policy of sin; for sin, when it is used and practised in the soul, like an old Fox, grows more cunning and politic to conceal itself; it can make its guiltiness seem to be innocence, its covetousness seem to be liberality, its pride humility, etc. Herod-like becoming seemingly virtuous, when it is never a whit the less, but rather the more truly vicious. But further with the real discovery of ourselves. Moreover, as the dogged morosity of our mind is frequently apparent in our behaviour towards our friends, in our dealing with strangers, and other like instances that may be quickly remembered, so also is our grudging unthankfulness not a little before God, and in reference to his Majesty: So that when losses or crosses do befall us, our words are usually these or such like: This is hard fortune, there is no body so unhappy as we; we I warrant have the worst lot and portion of all men; foolishly not at all heeding the frequent miseries of others daily before our eyes, that rod of God's correction which is imparted to our neighbours peradventure at the same present, and doth it may be in many degrees go beyond ours; if not, at the leastwise we may remember how far the afflictions of poor Job do outgo our greatest sufferings, and yet he sits embracing the dunghill with these words in his mouth, The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.  

Have we received all good from him so long,  
And shall he think that now he doth us wrong?   
O the perverse impatiency of our sinful nature, when our mind at first is newly wounded with our misfortunes, and whilst that it is in a fresh and yet-bleeding remembrance with us, what cursed and even nothing else but madly discontented imaginations do there rise up and occur unto our minds? how full of raging and masterless thoughts are we? so that if we go about never so little to stop the furious current of them, and to turn necessity into a virtue, by applying the consideration of it to some contentful use or good resolution, our wicked passion most times is so unruly with discontent, that by no means can we overmaster or bring it into the subjection of any sober thoughts: Which being so, we must needs for the present let it slack, and altogether as much as possible exclude it out of the mind, if that haply afterwards our passion being allayed and more reasonable, we may consider it with some discretion; so hard a thing as I say is it to wrestle with a disturbed passion in its excess: and truly, as sin grows on in the soul, so the passions of our mind grow further and further into excess and immoderate distempers.  
Sin when it getteth much strength within, is methinks of all things in the world most like unto the pestilence: the Pestilence, when the height of the disease is upon a man, makes him, even as frenzy, distempered with the violence thereof; so as, I say, sin doth here unhinge all the affections of the soul into a furious and madly-behaving humour, when it flies much out of reason into an immoderate excess. The Pestilence when it worketh a full infection, is a disease very mortal and deadly, so that few escape it: so sin, when a man is much over gone therewith, bringeth the soul into a very sad and dangerous condition; and it is the effect of God's greatest mercy that we do overcome it. Lastly, the Pestilence, that grand misery of Mankind, is usually attended upon with many inferior mischiefs; as the Measles, Small Pox, and the like: so sin, those great exorbitancies of the mind, which are truly the misery of all miseries, and cause of all miseries unto us men, are ever accompanied with smaller inconveniences and vanities of conversation: And so then, what with greater sins, and lesser vanities, we may now well say with the Preacher, Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.  

There is no word, no deed, no, not a thought  
In us, but's vain and altogether nought.   
I say, What are all our thoughts, our words and deeds but vain, even of no weight, substance and solidity? for, know thou, O my soul, that nihil est non vanum, quod non ad aeternitatem pertinet; that all that is vain, which aims not at eternity. Those thoughts, th●se words, those works, which perish, and do not accompany and follow us into heaven, that we may there for ever rejoice of them; those, all those, I say, are vain and idle, and such whereof we must be sure, as our Saviour saith, to give an account: and thus through our so totally depraved condition of sin, all that is within us is become vanity, and lighter than vanity itself; our thoughts think vanity and nothing but vanity: we say to ourselves, What profit is there in serving the Lord? do not things fall out and prosper as well with the wicked as the righteous? Doubtless, he that dwelleth on high regardeth it not; and there is no difference unto us.  
Again, we think foolishly, Hath not God s● chained the course of things by his Eternal Predestination to such and such periods and events, that the fatal bo●nds and decree thereof we can by means frustrate? Alter it we cannot; how then is it in us to do good or to do evil? 'tis not our fault that we are not saved, we could not sin, bad ●e not appointed it; and we cannot avoid it, because he hath appointed it.  
Thus we many times ignorantly judge and conceive that God's ways are as our ways: but he shall one day convince and reprove us; he shall set our sins before us, making our Consciences truly to confess, that Thou, O Lord, art good, art holy, righteous and just; but it is we of ourselves that have sinned, done wickedly and stubbornly, gone astray from thy Commandments.  
Our thoughts think nothing but vanity. Such is the vain singularity of our intentions in any thing which is of moment or considerableness, that we contemptuously slight and lightly regard to follow the common manner and fashion, always aiming at some rare and unusual way, thereby to be advanced into a more general note and eminent reckoning. Such also is the vain disdainfulness and height of our mind, as to think ostentimes these and these our inferiors not good enough to have any familiarity or boldness with us, to be accepted or taken notice of in our company, or the like.  
Such again is the vain ostentation of our personal behaviour, when we are in better company abroad in public, or amongst strangers, that we usually cast our thoughts ambitiously behind us, with a vain care and curiosity of mind, to observe whether our clothes, discourse and deportment are likely to leave behind us in the opinion of men a worthy estimation; desiring, in the stout pride of our hearts, so to carry ourselves in outward credit towards others, as to be observed in the sight of men; and according to the Poet, Monstrari & dicier hic est. I say, that it might be said of us, that we are such ones, of such note, etc. And such also on the other side is our too sullen retiredness from convenient company, when Diogenes-like we stubbornly shrink in ourselves from an ordinary conversation with men, either out of a shamefaced strangeness and inurbanity of behaviour, or else out of a self willed roughness of mind, that we will not communicate ourselves unto others. And here  

We may most times observe it by the by,  
That Melancholy gives a secret touch  
Of surly, close, and stern morosity,  
Which speaking little, always thinketh much.   
Though Melancholy be full within of great thoughts, yet it seldom unmasks itself, but upon humours; and then peradventure when we are in the vein of it, we as vainly fall again into extremes on the other side, lavishly spending our spirits in over much talking and eagerness of discourse, thereby wearying out ourselves many times in vain; and not only so, but perhaps working our own woe withal: For, Locutum esse aliquand● poe●ituit, tacuisse nunqu●: A fool, saith Solomon, Prov. 29, utters all his mind; but a wise man keepeth it in till afterwards. A fool uttereth all his mind; and such is our folly to run out into vanity of words, sometimes in one fashion, sometimes in another; but specially most of all, into vainly hyperbolical speeches, boastingly aggravating the truth, or enviously extenuating it, according as our humour and inclination is bend; whereby our praiso or dispraise of any thing or person is altogether made factious after our fancy and liking, rather than any whit according to right understanding and impartial verity: for notwithstanding we do still pretend to speak nothing but what is just and equal, following the only rule of discerning reason and indifferency; yet we cannot but incline our words to the prejudicated sense of our own liking, making our arguments and proofs servants rather to affection then reality. As for example: If we vent our passion in ripping up of other men's faults, we plead thus for the doing it, That we know not how to dissemble, That we must needs speak the truth, etc. colouring that with the name of veracity, which is nothing else but the rancour of ill will; taking our indignation and sinister desire, to be zeal, a zeal to truth, whenas it is nothing but a breach of Charity: for though we can thus unmercifully censure others; though other men's motes are beams unto us, and we can fully discern their least enormities; yet we do sufficiently wink at and flatter ourselves in far worse actions; we can cut large thongs, as it is said, of other men's Leather; enjoining great duties, expecting great matters, and laying great burdens upon other men's shoulders, which we touch not ourselves with so much as our least finger: I say, the mean while, God he knows, not performing the least part of our own duty: and therefore doth that saying of Saint Paul after check our Consciences; Thou that teachest others, teachest thou not thyself? etc. Behold, the wrath of man, saith Saint James, worketh not the righteousness of God. And sure, most times, we sin more against Charity by the wrathful censure and reproof of other men's sins, even more, I verily believe, than they do in committing those sins which we so reprove, because Love, saith Solomon, Prov. 10. 12, covereth a multitude, a multitude of sins: surely not of our own sins, 'tis not so meant, but of other men's. And Charity, saith Saint Paul, suffereth long, is kind, is not easily provoked, beareth all things, believeth all things, etc.  
If we truly consider it, when we judge this or that man's pride; what is it else that doth it, but a greater pride in ourselves? when we condemn other men's malice and envy, it is nothing else peradventure but because our own hearts are fuller of envy themselves; nature it may be thinking thus to adorn herself with others spoils, and to deck up her credit with the good name she takes away from her neighbour. Better, O how much better were it for us, in stead thereof, to turn critics to ourselves and our own lives, then to be so censoriously busy about others.  
Better, I say,  

To 'bide at home, and show our utmost skill  
In setting right our own corrupted will.   
In judging others, that is all that we can get by it, The greater judgement to ourselves: but by judging ourselves, we may haply escape the judgement of God; For, saith Saint Paul, if we would judge ourselves (that is, truly ransack our own souls for sin) we should not be judged of the Lord.  
And as the ancharitable judging of other's sins doth doubtless increase our own judgement; so when we applaud, rejoice in, and are well pleased at the falls and sins of others; what do we likewise but increase our further condemnation? This hugging of our souls in the beholding of other men's vices, which many times we do, proveth us to have the seed of that wicked one within us, who delighteth still in having more company unto damnation. Indeed to have many fellows and companions in sinning, may perhaps rock our evil conscience into a securer sleep for the time; but it cannot give u● the least true rest or satisfaction of mind. That others sin as much as we, is no privilege at all for our sins: they shall stand upon their own bottoms, and we shall be sure ourselves to answer for ourselves; one's faults cannot plead for or excuse another's: every one shall have enough to look to himself and his own ways. It is to be marked amongst the rest, that the different temper of body and manner of life, as to live in some places with some people, in some Callings, and the like, is a strong means to make sin in many of us to abound into a more gross and frequent impiety then in othersome: for although nature in all men be corrupted with the seeds of sin, with a readiness and propension even unto the greatest evils; yet these first beginnings are much more rankly grown from the womb in some men then in othersome, which causeth them to undergo a greater difficulty in subduing themselves by grace, and to be more violently carried down the stream, when once sin gets the upper hand. As also our manner of life may add great advantage unto temptation.  

In Sodom for to live a righteous Lot,  
'Tis like a Painter that's without a spot.  
By touching Pitch, alas it is no news  
To be defiled, if that we cannot choose.   
He that is conversant where many occasions be offered, shall hardly put by often inconveniences.  
But we proceed with the secret sinful motions of our unhappy life. When there is any thing of heedful concernment in our thoughts, which we do endeavour to effect, or have resolved upon to have it done; if it chance any whit long to be delayed, and not finished forthwith according to our hope, the greedy desire and expectation thereof is such a torture presently to our over hasty souls, that in a while out of distrustfulness we either utterly despair of it, or through impatiency of mind, we strive (if it be possible) to bring it to pass against might, or otherwise one way or other, are ready to procure some indirect means whereby our eager intention may be fulfilld; headlesly running on many times thus to multiply our sins without any reason, not considering at all, that if we had not tormented ourselves with such over eagerness of expectation, and sinned against God with this unlawful hastiness of mind and despairing thoughts, doubtless our business would have never the worse, but rather the better have took its effect in due time: and this is that impatient hastiness of mind and distrustful fear that maketh many of us to curse and swear so much in the passion of discontent; to go to Witches for recovering again the goods that we lose; or so soon as we be sick to post to the Physician as our only hope; and the like. It was this impatient hastiness of mind that made Saul offend, 1 Sam. 13. 8: whenas both he, and ourselves, did we but use the counsel of David, Psal. 27. 9, to tarry the Lords leisure, and be strong; I say, his leisure with patience, and be strong in faith, we might verily prevent many a sin, nay, perchance most sins; for were it not this impatient hastiness of ours, what sin almost is there could prevail against us, had we but that true patience and staidness of mind soberly to wait and weary out the temptation, the devil might go away from us as he came.  

The storm most fiercely for the time doth rage:  
Stay but a little, and it will assuage.   
It is this too importunate hastiness that causeth discontented murmurs against God, making us, when things go not to our minds, and that we prosper not according to our account and expectation, even making us, I say, half angry with the Almighty, as though he were a debtor to fulfil our desires. It is this hastiness which draweth us many times into the most dangerous impieties.  
Sin in time brings the soul into such a senseless dulness and stupidity, that as if we had made a Covenant with d●ath and a League with hell, we are little moved with any terror thereof, and we quietly yield up ourselves, as if there were an inevitable necessity for us to be thus wieked and ungodly: we know not what to say or to do in the case; we are so much plunged in this mire and clay, where there is no ground, no hope of coming out, that it is beyond all that we can think and endeavour, to do ourselves any good; and therefore we cannot conceive sin and this inward corruption of nature to be any otherwise in us then as a corruption in the body, which when once it hath gotten a long continued vent and running issue in the leg, there is no stopping thereof without present death to the party, unless there be an issue made for it in another place. And so we being thus filled, as Saint Paul speaketh of the Heathen, Rom. 1, with nothing but spiritual corruption in the soul▪ unrighteousness, fornication, wickedness, covetousness, maticiousnesse, etc. we cannot imagine how the vent thereof can be stopped, but that it must needs have passage one way or other; and indeed so for the most part, when it is stopped of its ordinary course, it findeth out a secret vent elsewhere. And truly after this manner sometimes we seem to be reclaimed and reform of our accustomed vices, whenas in very deed we do but turn out of one sin into another: for this is the devil's policy, now and then to imitate Repentance, by altering and changing up and down our sins, to the end they might not grow tedious unto us, to make us loath and abhor them utterly, or perchance to give our consciences some satisfaction with the show of Repentance, that we may the more securely continue in sin. For the devil hath many shifts to invent, wherewith to give us content and delight. He will provide all variety and pleasure that is possible, to indulge our appetite; as, being weary of this sin, that we may go to another; our affections being tired with ambition, we might recreate ourselves with lust and luxurious idleness; our souls being stopped of their course in malice and covetousness, we might take as it were a turn another while in Epicurism and indulging vanities: sometimes perhaps a variety in the manner of our sins for novelties sake, may give us a little change of satisfaction; as sometimes it may be plain dealing gives the mind best liking in our sins; sometimes equivocating and deluding excuses; sometimes the matter is best of all to be qualified with a crafty involving of others helping in the act: sometimes again, a sole and absolute secrecy of the whole business, is more grateful to our conscience. Every way, and however it be effected, we feel ourselves in sin just as in the condition of sick men: he that is much sick, is not in so much ease as to lie always on one side, though his bed be never so soft: so sin, like the sick man's bed, hath not so much pleasure in it as to give us any long content: he turns from side to side to find rest, and finds none so long as he is sick: so we unhappy sinners wallow to and fro in our sins without rest: we are unstable in all our ways.  

There's no delight, no rest is to be found,  
Whilst sin in us so strongly doth abound.   
I say, we can find no pleasure, no full, satisfactory, o● long content in pleasure, as long as we thus turn out of sin into sin, out of one bad course into another, unless that we quite turn out of sin unto God. But woe is us, Hic labour, hoc opus est, here lies all the difficulty, this is the main matter of all; the flattering subtlety thereof hath, as I said, for long ago, as Dalilah beguiled Samson, so wholly robbed and beguiled our soul▪ of all their strength and courage to true Repentance, that we were much too weak to break off from us those fettering bonds and manacles of unrighteousness which do so strongly tie us unto unhappiness; a misery certainly full of all miseries, to be so far involved therein that we can see no probability to get out: and yet lo, this is not the utmost, it doth not rest here; we must yet ●urther entertain a greater unhappiness; for now behold a far more grievous and worse thing for the present hereby happeneth unto us, God's judgement, the usual consequence of continuance in fin, prepares after so long forbearance to lay siege unto our consciences; and the messenger of Satan, like a trumpeter is sent in to summon us beforehand: for behold, hideous and dismaying thoughts begin to slip into our mind, exceedingly to terrify and strike thorough our unhappy souls, the strangeness of which many times at the first coming of it, doth so ghastly affright and startle us, that our hearts are ready to faint and swoon with the terror thereof: and this, this, I say, for the present out of our unadvis●dnesse and ignorance of the right understanding hereof, commonly becomes a greater snare to us to keep us off from Repentance, than all our former sins, and distempers besides; for when perchance we endeavour to settle our thoughts upon Humiliation, and are ready to take upon us the examination of our wicked and sinful life, as lifting up our thoughts into this Meditation: Oh how the time passeth away! the daily-consuming torch of our life burneth out apace, and shall we continue still in this desolate and deplored condition without due Repentance and reconciliation with God? how far are are we from that glorious comfort and most happy state we use to enjoy in the time of grace? etc. Where, I say,  

When that with serious sighs we in this sort  
Do our own selves into ourselves retort.   
preparing ourselves for Repentance, and striving to humble our souls before God, then forthwith do these hideous and dismaying thoughts, or the remembrance of them, so utterly discourage and dishearten us, that we are fain to leave off again so soon as we have begun: For whenas our thoughts should be filled with humility and dejection for our sins, then are they ready to swarm with nothing but vile and monstrous imaginations. Better therefore do we judge it, for the most part, whilst that we are newly acquainted herewith, to let all alone, then by that means, as we suppose, to procure Gods greater wrath and indignation upon us. Besides, thus we are ready to conjecture with ourselves; What hope or likelihood is there for us to obtain the favour of that God, from whom we are so dangerously separated, and whom again we are with such impiety of mind ready to dishonour? And so are we beaten off from our poor and weak endeavours.  

Not daring to approach his glorious Name  
With thoughts that speak nothing but fear and shame.   
Well, these hideous glances do perchance ever and anon slip into the imagination, and are very terrible and tedious unto us. But many times it falls out for a while, until we either better understand ourselves herein, or that God show forth his power more strongly in us: I say it falls out many times, that the earnest employment of our mind in the fears, cares and desires of other things, doth not suffer us so seriously to tend for them, or else doth put them out of remembrance again; notwithstanding ever and anon they do come into our heads to disturb and terrify us most wonderfully. But specially 'tis to be noted, that if at any time we go about to read, or set ourselves diligently upon the work of Repentance, then sure they are abundantly present with us: and because they are so terrible that we cannot abide them, we must therefore needs leave off whatsoever we have took in hand; and this we may conceive to be a special policy of the devil, to have them chiefly proposed to our fancy at such times, to the end, if it could be so, there might be no time for us to repent in: For now methinks at length, through a due self-consideration, and these manifold checking troubles and inconveniences, which so disturb us, that we cannot tell which way to turn for them; doubtless, I say, we have great longing to be reconciled unto God, and we would very fain repent, putting our strength really to it, did not now these Scar crows stand in the way to affright us: and now in this (though not otherwise) we can truly repent that we did not repent heretofore, that we had not drawn near unto the Lord whilst he might be found, since that in those great water-floods, this day of trouble and temptation, we cannot come nigh unto him: for most deservedly we that have continued so long in our sins for our own pleasure, to content ourselves, must yet continue a while longer to content God's justice. As yet then for all this, though the Axe be as it were laid to the root of the tree, God's judgement and vengeance to our evil Consciences, yet we cannot leave off the deceitfulness of our souls, our oppressing policy, the vanity of our mind, the excusing our sins, the swelling and selfconceited folly of our hearts, and the like.  
It is to be observed, that according to the method in this Book before premised, most of us men have some one part or space of our life (be it four or five years, or whatsoever) wherein sin hath more full power over us, and perhaps doth thus prevail in us with an high hand and settled course, and this time above all the rest is the time of sin, as being so properly disposed for it, that during the continuance thereof, we can never attain unto true Repentance: for though that we may sometimes superficially fallow up our souls with the Sollow of Humiliation, yet do we not so thoroughly plow them up as to fit them for the due receiving of that good seed which is able to fructify into newness of life. Sure this is not an easy thing:  

A perfect sinner doth not change his hue,  
So quickly turning his old life to new.   
Though we may peradventure many times outwardly scan over the duty of Repentance, yet do we not during this time so perfectly repent, as thereby to get a full Release from the▪ guilt of sin, or such a comfortable and a discharging acquittance to our Consciences, as we ought to have, and which maketh us cheerful and free powerfully to resolve and set on towards amendment of life.  
Well, to the matter. I say, What by one means or other, we are yet still scared off from the main hope and help of our souls, the comfort of Reconciliation; so great is our sinful folly and unability unto good. But this, all this, is but for a taste of inward trouble: See what follows: the hand of the Almighty doth not leave us so; if a man will not turn, saith David, Psal 7, God will whet his sword: he hath bend his bow, and made it ready: hitherto there is no turning with us, nothing is able to turn us unto a due serious repenting, or sufficiently to rouse us up out of the unhappy Lethargy of sin; and therefore sure God is now whetting his sword and bending his bow against us As Lazr●● in his grave, so we have been in our trespasses and sins so long dead, even stark dead unto all goodness, that we had need be called unto elatâ voce, as it is in the Eleventh of Saint John, with a loud voice, if God mean that we shall effectually hear him.  
Dangerous diseases deserve desperate cures. If nothing else can thoroughly awake us, the Judgement of a troubled mind and tormented Conscience must do it. But when once it comes to pass that the Almighty showeth forth his wonders in the deep, his mighty strength after this manner in the deep thoughts of man's heart; O what a sharp fit and tedious bout must we undergo? for, saith Solomon, The spirit of ma● may sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit who can bear?  

Not Job 's afflictions, nor yet all those ten  
Egyptian plagues can parallel again   

The misery that that poor soul is in,  
Whom heaven doth strike with terror for his sin.   
Any outward cross or trouble is tolerable, and may be sustained: but the inner trouble of a distracted mind and wounded Conscience, who can bear?  
You may note, that though the mind and Conscience be touched with many secret terrors and perplexed difficulties, in the course and passage of this life, according to that of David concerning himself, Even from my youth up, thy terrors have I suffered with a troubled mind.  
I say, There be in the soul of man many tormenting thoughts; as also sins of ours, and sayings of Scripture often too hard for us well to digest: but this ensuing Passage of a distracted mind and troubled Conscience is seldom paralleled.  
For lo, I shall herein show you a Mystery, even well-nigh the very height and utmost pitch of Terror and sad Distraction that the melancholy mind can undergo without falling quite into Fury and Madness, which doth fitly follow this more than ordinary ill course of life here presupposed, and so long a sleep in presumption.  
For this is the right Method in the state of the soul: before such great trouble of mind, there usually precedes a deep sleep in Presumption, because the mind and Conscience can never be very much inwardly troubled, (it may suffer some small distress) I say, never be much troubled, as long as fear, the watchman of the soul, keeps his due sentry. And therefore this is the true wisdom of a careful Christian, diligently to keep this watch about him, lest he be overtaken, besotted and engaged in sin, and so then the day of the Lord come upon him like a thief in the night: I say, the day of the Lord, the day of his Judgement, a day of gloominess and thick darkness; a day of trouble and distraction of mind, even such a day (as is expressed in the next Part) wherein the Lord thundereth from heaven with his mighty power against the soul of man,   

Of the Soul troubled in Conscience.  
WEll, the troubles and terrors before spoken of in the precedent part, in reference to these that follow and are now at hand are but as S. Matthew says of those troubles that shall go before the day of Judgement, the beginning of sorrows. I say, the beginning of sorrow, they are like the scattering drops which fall before a shower; and O now the shower itself begins to fall apace, a terrible shower, and most violent storm, such a one as David speaks of in Psal. 11. vers. 6. where he saith, Upon the wicked be shall rain snares, fire and brimstone, and an horrible tempest, this shall be their portion to drink.  
For now our minds and bodies being perhaps more properly made fit for that purpose; I say, the rather fitted thereunto; as either by occasion of the leisure and vacancy of the mind, or also by the like concurring occasion of strong melancholy vapours in the body, or other diseased disturbance: Though fin only be the procuring cause, yet these or some of these are usually the present occasions which mainly help it forward; we quickly fall into an exceeding dumpishness of mind, and even in a short space our fancy is followed with swarms of tormenting thoughts, in so extraordinary a manner, that we cannot tell what to do; they come so thick one upon another, and are impious in so high a degree, that the dismal and hellish terror thereof doth quite dull and take off our senses. There is, for the most part, no one hour all day long, but that we are haunted with them, as with so many hideous ghosts, insomuch that usually do what we can, nothing will put them from our mind, or give us the least ease and respite from this misery.  

Intentions still, our mind gets no relief  
At all, from this tormenting inward grief.   
Those thoughts, they are such black thoughts, most of them so infinitely fearful▪ so unspeakable heinous, that they do make us extremely to shake with fear, and put us many times in such a trembling, that we are as it were fainting with the deep agony and anguish thereof, they do so subtly shoot into our imagination, that for our lives we cannot with all our strength and endeavour shut them out, or so much as mitigate the violence of them; they are even as the piercing lightning, which cannot be withstood. For, lest your understanding should be mistaken. it is to be noted, that those thoughts not as yet spoken of. are more of a darting, than a reflecting nature. To go on, they are as so many terrifying Haggards and hellish ghosts unto us, that do even make us shrink for fear, as often as we do but think upon them, or so much as take the least glimpse thereof into our apprehension; and then as soon as we are thus never so little afraid, they will sure come upon us, and that the more fiercely too, fear giving any adversary advantage, to have the greater power over us: The manner of being affrighted herewith, many times is as when some extraordinary thunderclap on the sudden, strikes a man with so violent a terror, that his heart is even (as they say) out of his mouth therewith; the passion whereof is able to be in such an excess, that it doth even stun our senses for the time, making us as quite sick with the amazement of it.  

What shall I say? No mortal tongue can ●hew  
Those fearful terrors which our mind doth know.   
It is said indeed in the sixth Chap. of Genesis, that every imagination of the thoughts of man's heart are only evil continually. But O these and the like thoughts, as I may say, even sent from Hell into the soul of man, are so beyond measure unreasonably evil, that we shall many times think to ourselves, think it, I say, to be a thing almost impossible, that man, as a mere man, and being only in the mortal condition of humanity, should be capable of entertaining such intolerable things within him: As also sometimes we shall think thus, that if other men did but know what vile imaginations, what monstrous indignities there are in our heads, they would sure be ready to kill us out of zeal to piety, and revenge to God's glory, as not fit to live on earth, who are in truth full of nothing but Hell: Many times perhaps are our thoughts of such high and immediate impiety▪ that we verily look for one fearful judgement or other presently to confound us, and do even quake and crouch down, as though some fierce thunderbolt of vengeance were already falling from Heaven upon us: These thoughts they are not all of them evil in the same degree, some it may be being far worse than some; as also, they are not all of the same nature, for the diverfity of every one's constitution, and the diversity or several kinds of sins, to which we are most addicted, do perchance much vary the nature of them; yet most of them in the same particular party (specially at the first) do ever point to one kind of end and effect; in a while the much prevailing strength of these thoughts hath such a terrifying power in us, that even but one of them is sufficient to strike an heart-breaking passion of so great a trembling and distemper into us, that we shall not be wholly out of it again for a whole day after, being usually in the mean space revolving in our minds the heinousness thereof or bu●ying our fancy with orher trifling conceits of the like nature; so that our mind is never no never free from some one cogitation or other, which concerns this our trouble: At our first entr● into this sad case, before we are fully possessed with the course and quality thereof; we shall be apt thus to consider and revolve within ourselves. O Lord, how shall we do to recogitate and examine over again in repentance these unhappy thoughts, when as the very remotest glimpse of them in our fancy, is so too much terrible unto us; for we do feel ourselves seldom lively and perfectly to repent us of our sins, but that in very act of repentance, those things which do most go against our conscience do reappear unto us afresh, and that we do as it were really see the enormity of them: I say we shall thus perhaps ho and be solicitous how to repent, for though we may and do now repent, in the habit and intention of repentance, I mean in the reality and sense of it; yet peradventure we cannot in a right and duly performed act thereof, habitually by turning f●om our evil course, but not actually, by putting in practice that lively action of the mind, which is ordinarily requisite and belonging thereunto. I say, for all that our hearts be as it were broken in pieces with these heavy troubles, yet we cannot enjoy so feeling a remorse in our souls, or so kindly dissolve ourselves into a serious and right humiliation as we desire, and as we ought to do; though as it seemeth to our poor unhappy souls.  

The Lord hath charged us with so great a Curse,  
That mortal flesb cannot sustain a worse.   
Though I sa● we are so Divell-like, and hellishly untoward in ourselves, and though we truly know and do well consider this our woeful condition, yet can we not perchance through this great distemper of fancy; can we not, as I say, perform that action of mind which fitly belongs thereunto, being held in such a strong incongruity unto the natural use of all inward duties that there yet appeareth in us, me thinks, no due readiness of heart to a bleeding and truly conscientious sorrow.  
Now therefore in this most evil case, lest that we should go down quick into Hell, and be swallowed up with this sudden destruction, we do mightily labour to set out all the power and strength that we have, in striving to deject and bring down our outward souls to a duer and more appliable sorrow for our sins: For you must understand that the strongness and violence hereof, a pretty while, upon its first coming, doth amaze and so much take up our thoughts with disturbed terror and admiration, that we cannot presently apply ourselves with good, and exactly go over each particular of repentance to the full. Now then, as much as it is possible, I say, to the utmost, do we set ourselves this way, to turn a new leaf, to change the whole frame and course of our inner man: For lo▪ O Lord, there is no rest unto our souls, by reason of this thy wrath, neither is there yet any ease at all to our consciences, by reason of our sins. First then to begin, The former policy, delight and habit of our mind, which we did heretofore seriously embrace, applaud and approve, is now become hateful and odious unto us, we cannot abide so much as the very thought thereof; and lo, the whole aim of our intention and purpose is only set to a particular and punctual recounting of all our sins past, although the heynous●esse and multitude of them, for want of due repentance so long, is perchance grown to that pass, that it is most irksome to us, our hearts even faint thereat, and are very loath, even as loath to meddle thoroughly with this scrutiny, and to search it to the purpose, as the grleved party is loath to open the plaster from his tender sore, the clinging whereof he knows will tear away the very skin from the flesh.  

So hard a thing it is for to divorce  
Sin, that is ro●ted with a constant course.   
So difficult is the due ordering, purging and examining of a conscience that is much overgrown with sin; we do now, as I say, set ourselves to a particular re-capitulation of all our sins that so we may fully try out, and remove the cause of this our mis●ry, and therefore, as it were, stopping our ears and apprehension, as much as possible, from the noise and disturbance of all other things; we do altogether dive our thoughts into a most deep and distinct consideration and remembrance of all our former iniquities, whereupon there may, and doubtless will, at one time or other, occur unto our memory all, even all, I say, and almost every one of the greatest sins of our whole life, with their particular circumstances, and manner of committing. Thus here  

Deep Melancholy, without noise presents  
Of each our sins the sad and true contents;  
And then she sits with that accusing scroll.  
To pass her judgement on the guilty soul.   
Judging, deeming, and concluding, sometimes one to be the greatest of the sins, sometimes another; sometimes this to be the chiefest cause of our misery, sometimes that; sometimes neither this nor that in particular, but in general, the sinful courses of our whole time; but all this while, ever now and then, shall we be thinking with ourselves, sure our case is so dangerous, that never any souls were in the like sad condition; sure our case is so incurably bad, we cannot conceive how it is possible for us to come into God's favour any more.  

Our wound of Conscience is see deep, 'tis sure,  
So deep, me thinks, that it is passed all cure.   
Thus we hang in suspense betwixt hope and fear, lest that it be not possible for us to be saved, and then snall we be very earnest and diligent to search out after such books (if we can read) which handle matter of conscience, and to peruse them, as perchance Master Greenbam, Master Perkins, Master Bolton, and the like, to see whether we can find any likelihood that ever any have been in the like wretched state before us, or affected with such trouble and distraction in the same nature; and when perchance we do find but little or nothing, whereby to conjecture that others formerly have been in such a case; then verily, me thinks, there is no hopes for us, no body was ever in such a desperate danger, and therefore we must needs be damned: But if peradventure we read or hear of any that have been somewhat near alike affected as we are, whose inward trouble doth resemble the manner and fashion of ours, it doth revive us with a little comfort and satisfaction: That only doth give us most ease of any thing: That, and nothing but that, doth afford some refreshing to our weary and distressed souls: Well, having, as I say before, brought up our sins out of the abyss of long oblivion; and as Enders Witch did samuel's person or personated Ghost: So having raised up the true representation of these ugly ghosts, to our sad remembrance, we labour by grieving and sighing; for perhaps we can hardly weep at first, though we do much force ourselves to it. I say, by sighing, by fasting, and prayer, to bring our misshapen and untowardly distempered souls, to apply and conform to some lively penance and sensible remorse for our wretchedness; we do now suffer no difficulty to withdraw us from this necessary work of dejection, but do keep ourselves at School to it by force, for though we do grieve and sorrow not a little for our sins, yet still being in this case as we are, it seemeth to us not enough, it pierceth not to the depth of our offences, we must yet do penance in further humiliation; this then compulsive and violent urging ourselves to sorrow for sin, together with the troubled thoughts of our mind and conscience, in a while breeds in us perchance a constant custom and habit of sighing, so that we shall often, ever and anon, interrupt our breath with sighs; when we are altogether so untoward and out of all order in our minds, that we can do nothing else, nor pray, nor read, nor consider, nor meditate as we should; then shall we force ourselves to sigh; this we can do, and this perchance is all that we can do; and this, with the continued use thereof, doth at length so spend our spirits, and dry up the natural moisture of our bodies, that it maketh our countenances, for the most part, look with a very pale and sorrowful dejection, according to what Solomon saith, a merry heart maketh a theerfull countenance, so our sorry heart maketh us a sad countenance, our beauty is quite gone, for very trouble, and worn away because of all our iniquities; and though for all we are thus unreasonably tortured with these close fretting troubles, and such continual anguish of mind, yet a good while upon the first beginning of our trouble, it is the nature of us all, to strive howsoever to keep it as much as may be, very secret and private unto ourselves, for that we are ashamed, and loath that any should be acquainted with what an unhappy case we are in; but we shall usually with the grief thereof, go about so solicitarily, so moopish, and look so ill, and perchance starvingl● too, as if we were drunken or distracted, that our friends cannot but observe the unwonted state and behaviour of us.  

Each one may read the story of our case.  
In the sad tokens of a silent face.   
Such earnest trouble and intention of Hannab's mind, made old Ely take notice of her, as if she had been drunken; who answereth, No, my Lord, I am a woman of a sorrowful spirit; And though perchance for a while we shall be loath to give such an answer, and tell the truth to our friends, or others, who are ready to demand what the matter is with us? why we look, or sigh so? what doth a●le us? and the like; yet in time this grief is so intolerable, that it must needs have its vent, for strangulat inclusus dolour, any grief by its keeping close, doth rage the worse: Gods heavy hand is so strong upon us, there is no concealing of it long; the weary and restless condition we are in, makes us in the end not to care who knows it, or to whom it be told, so that we might but find any help or ease thereof; for perhaps we are so exceedingly tired out with this trouble, that there is not so much as the least rest or intermission at all unto our minds, neither day nor night, whilst we awake we think out, whilst we sleep we dream out, and we are interrupted with tumblings and toss even all the night long; the mind never ceaseth from its trouble; when we are in company, let there be what business or discourse soever in hand, we are amo●ost them, as those that are quite stunned and amazed in our senses, no otherwise affected then if we did neither see nor hear them, our mind being always working and musing upon its inward grief; and when we are private by ourselves, either what through the agony of evil and tormenting thoughts. and what with plodding on the heinousness of our sins and general course of our life, or by being terrified and dismayed with certain difficult Texts and passages of Scripture, our mind and conscience is in a constant agitation, at no rest.  

Lo there's a fin, that to the heart doth wound;  
And here's a thought, that strikes us to the ground  
With s●●ouning fear; And then a Text again  
Buries that soul, which those before bad sluin.   
I say, when we are in private, and so forth, for our desolate and sorsaken soul delighteth, as David did in the 102. Psalms, to sit alone by herself like an Owl that is in the desert, or like a Sparrow upon the house top; thus being alone toiled in misery, and snarld in perplexity, that we cannot tell what to do, we shall kneel down in our chamber, or elsewhere, and by urging ourselves to tears, in a while gush out a bundantly in our prayers, for though it be difficult for a full grown and middle age to dissolve their grief into tears, yet in such cases as this it is usual, and then most of us, when once we do thus bring ourselves into an use and custom of weeping, we do seldom pray at any time without tears, desiring to weep often: and often in private, when we cannot pray as we would, for how many and how many times is it, that we do pray, God knows, with poor relish and devotion of mind, forcing ourselves to pray when we cannot pray, repeating the words, when we are in such a case, and so out of order in ourselves, that we have no heart or affection of Prayer? I say, no heart for obserne hinc illae lachrimae, it is the deadness and want of a heart, that is our greatest unhappiness in all our distresses, and therefore good David so earnestly cries out for an heart, Create in me a clean h●a●t O God, O turn my stony heart into an heart of flesh, etc. To go on, There is most times suck an untowardliness in our hearts and affections unto prayer, that our distempered thoughts by means thereof, are ready to turn every thing to a quite contrary sense, to a vain, perchance, or ill conceit, so that when we should be most reverently serious in our devotion, then do the twharting glonces of our Fancy make as it were a foolery of it; and this will make us exceedingly to sigh, and cry for discontent, that we should be so vain, untoward, and out of all order; thinking, Lord, what shall we do, we cannot help it, though we be thus never so untoward we cannot tell how to avoid it; and these words perchance, we cannot tell what to do; Lord, we cannot tell what to do in our greatest plunges of distress will be an usual expression with us.  

Lord, hear our groans, we wot not what to say,  
We pray, and yet alas we cannot pray.   
Of ourselves we are not able sufficiently to think or comprehend in how bad a condition we are, thou only that truly knowest our misery be merciful unto us according to thy great mercy.  
When we are solitary and melancholy, private musing upon ourselves and our miserable condition, there do often such quames of terror come over our minds and consciences, with such fainty fits of despair, that we are even as heart sick for the time with them; the cogitation of divers things reflecting upon our consciences maketh our drooping spirits many a time even ready to forsake the body, and give it its last farewell; sometimes that Text of the Hebrews, which saith, that those who after they have tasted of the heavenly gift, and the power of the world to come, if they fall away it is impossible to renew them to repentance. This word impossible is a hard saying, and doth wonderfully dismay us. Sometimes that unpardonable Sin against the Holy Ghost, which shall never be forgiven, neither in this world nor in the world to come, doth strike us even as dead without hope of recovery; for let that sin be what it will be, either this or that, as perhaps we have read and learned out divers opinions of it what it is; sure we think the greathesse's and heinousness of our sins must needs without question comprehend it; nay, if it be a sin of such and such a nature as some are of the opinion it is, there is not the least doubt to be made but that we have evidently and often committed it. Sometimes that place of doing despite to the spirit of grace doth speak hard unto our consciences, and sometimes that where it is said of Esau that he found no place for repentance, though he sought it with tears. Sometimes the darting thoughts which do so vehemently terrify and distemper our minds, maketh us tremble to think on that place in the Apocalypse, where the damned ou● of their rebellious nature are said to curse and blaspheme, &c Sometimes shall we think on Cain's sin, that it was no other than those sins were ourselves have committed, even perchance in the fame kind of malicious and murdering thoughts against our Neighbours; besides so many and so great sins of other natures, for the which we are more worthy to be damned than he. Sometimes the grievous punishment of the murmuring Israelites, who were angry with God out of impatience, doth pass sentence upon us of the like Judgement and Condemnation. Sometimes again, the application of Saul's case will disquiet us, the application of the house built upon the sand, the application of him whose last estate was worse than the first, who being delivered from one Devil, there entered seven worse ones afterwards into him. Sometimes we stick with great fear on Predestination, being not a little touched with the utter improbability of our being fore-ordained unto Salvation, who are altogether so wicked and untoward, that God may as well, and with as good reason, to our judgement, save the Devil himself as we; whatsoever we hear spoken either in Scripture: or else how to the Condemnation of the wicked, doth as justlv and fitly me thinks come to our Consciences as if it had been framed on purpose for us: as also, whatsoever is said to the commendation of the righteous, doth sound again even as punctually to our particular shame, and confasion of face. The saying of St. Peter to Simon the Sorcerer, doth most rightly me thinks fit us being thus truly in the gall of bitterness, and in the bonds of iniquity; so hampered and snared in our sins and terror of Conscience, that by no means can we get out of these fears and distractions.  

What ere we do, doubts do thereof arise,  
What now we like, anon we do despise.   
As for example; If we do give liberally to the poor, intending to take daniel's counsel in his fourth Chapter, that is, To break off our iniquities by showing mercy, and so forth; then sure it comes into our mind that our actions are but Pharisaical; or that we do● it without charity, without which, though we should give away all our goods, it will as St. Paul saith, profit us nothing; if we do not give liberally when as our ability can do it, then are we just as churlish Naball, or as wicked Dives. Again, if we do let in the consideration of our sins and miserable estate, so nearly and deeply into our apprehension that we cannot endure it, then sure we are like Cain, ready to cry out, that our raisery is greater than that we are able to bear: If on the other side, we endeavour to forget it, and put it from our mind, then do we seem like Saul, to drive away the evil spirit with David's Music: If we do keep on our going to Church, and the like outward duties when as we seel no good motions within us correspondent thereunto, but rather all untowardness, than we are as Hypocrites, that make people to be mistaken in us, in accounting and deeming us to be better the● we be, to be something when as we are nothing: If we do wholly omit and neglect those duties, as not to go to Church, and the like; then are we profane Atheists, and not fit to live amongst Christians; such is the unconstant weakness and unquietness of our souls, that thus as job, in the seventh Chapter, the fourth verse, When we lie down we say, when shall we arise, and the night be gone; and we are full of toss to and fro until the dawning of the day; and with David, in the 38. Psalms, we may most truly say, that there is no soundness in our flesh by reason of thy wrath, neither is there any rest unto our bones by reason of our sin, for our iniquities are gone over our beads, and are a sore burden, too bevy for us to bear: a heavy burden, too heavy as well for our enfeebled bodies as distempered souls.  

The Soul and Body like two Turtle Doves  
Do both in one affection syrapathize,  
What moves the one the other quickly moves,  
Each in the others love both lives and dies.   
As the Soul, so I say the body sustaineth an heavy portion of this spiritual misery, for we do here with in time usually grow so weak, even truly, as they say, so weak as water, being what with grief and abstinence from ordinary food wasted and pined away to nothing but skin and bone; neither have our bones also any rest in them, for they are ready to ache as we but lie in our Beds, and are exceedingly dried up like a Potsheard; such is the feeble weariness and laxation of our limbs, that kneeling any whit long at Prayer, when we rise we shall be ready to f●ll backwards, so that as David in the 22. Psalm, just so we are even poured out like water, and all our bones are out of join; if we sit a while more than ordinary, such a benumbed stiffness and deadness doth seize upon us, that we shall hardly perhaps be able without help to stand upright. Again, thus are we grown old. I say, old with grief, and are become as it is said, Like a dead man that is forgotten. The continual sighing and anguish of mind seems to press and oppress our flomackes, as if some heavy weight did lie hard upon it; thy hand O Lord presseth us so sore, that it is uneasy for us to fetch our breath; and lo, it may be we are wholly for many days together as in a constant fever of distemper. I have known the water of such a distressed soul, only through this intolerable trouble of mind and Conscience, to look so ill that a wise and well experienced Pyhsitian hath given his opinion of it, that he never saw so bad and disturbed an estate in all his life before. O the sad case! O the sorry and miserable condition of man, that is thus wounded with the sting of conscience for his sin! Behold how David complains and laments in his 39 Psalms, O take away thy plague from me, for I am even cansumed by means of thy heavy band: When thou with rebuke dost chasten man for sin, thou makest his beauty to consume away, like as it were a moth fretting a garment, every man therefore is but vanity. O man, unhappy man, who can sufficiently bemoan thee? What heart is there can choose but smart to see this thy misery, and here to show the grief that I now conceive?  

Ob that my tongue could speak forth tears of blood,  
And eyes run down with waters like a flood.   
But to go on, for we may not stay here; I say, to go on with the Story of our darting and affrighting thoughts, when any grievous and terrour-striking flash doth dart into our minds, we are presently apt thereupon to ponder and examine with ourselves, whether it be worse and of greater impiety, than those that we have formerly had, and for the most part, ever the last doth seem to be the worst; sometimes it may be we may thus think with ourselves, why? what be they but bare thoughts? they be not wishes, desires, or real actions of the mind; And then perchance the next time these thoughts do come unto us in manner of wishes, which for the present, through the sudden passion of fear, doth confound us with such an amazement, that we cannot at all tell what to think or do, we are so quite out of heart with those and our other dismayments, for any hope of salvation, that me thinks it is but a folly to persuade ourselves of comfort: Well, when the thoad● of this overwhelming tempest is somewhat allayed and passed over; we shall perhaps begin to consider again (being loath to be drowned) that grant they be wishes, or be they what they will be, never so bad, yet we cannot help it, it is not in our power to dispose of our own thoughts though they do come thus unhappily unto us; we desire them not, we had rather be rid of them; and then, when we have so far pretty well resolved ourselves for the time, rather than our melancholy fancy shall be at any rest or intermission from tormenting doubts and terrors, our half bewitched imagination; our imagination, I may well say, as half bewitched, will also send for them, and bring them into mind, and then there is not the least show of hope any more to be caught hold by, than we are quite strucken down into Hell, with an utter confusion of despair; we have hitherto strove against might, and all in vain too but deceive ourselves with hope; without question such is our persuasion and conceit) we must needs be damned if ever any were damned; we are now shut under Hatches, past hope of recovery utterly forsaken and cast off from Grace; and sure we now count it an advantage, and ●he only height of our hope, if we might but be in a lesser degree of Condemnation, we do take it as a benefit to us, not to be placed in the extremest condition of Hell; this, this is but a poor hope, a cold comfort God knows, and yet even this so poor a hope can we hardly grant ourselves. O now shall we think how happy is that soul, that is but in probability of salvation; Oh, it is not preferment, credit, rich apparel, or outward pleasures, the common joys and felicities of this world, that stand high in our esteem, we can now value these earthly things truly as they are, even as nothing; we envy not the happiness of those that have them, nor are we discontent to be without them▪ give us, O Lord give us this one thing, The comfort of thy grace again, The hope of salvation, and we look for no more; hither, hither are our desires, our cares, our thoughts only bend, here is the only treasure we aim at.  

There's no content without it to be had,  
There's nothing with it that can make us sad.   
Two things are here well to be observed by the way; First, that the merely reasoning and reflecting thoughts of Conscience do never cause such sharp fits of despair in the soul of man, as those which are also partly darting and affrighting: the second is, That despair in the understanding is nothing so great an impiety against God as is despair in the Will, with an impatient resolution, a despairing motion or opinion, as a desperate sin.  
To return again to the disconsolate amazement of our souls, labouring in despair; this poor hope as I say of being in a lesser degree of Condemnation we cannot grant unto ourselves, for we shall reason chiefly thus; If God be most just as he must needs be, he cannot but distribute equal right and Justice unto all men, and so he may not spare any one person more than other, for any favour or respect whatsoever, but only for their good behaviour, and as they have better husbanded their time and his gifts in them, for will the righteous God of all the world judge partially? No verily, he is truth itself, far be it from the Lord, as it is in the 34. of job, and the 10: verse, that he should do wickedness, and from the Almighty that he should commit iniqutty, for the work of a man shall he render unto him, and cause every man to find according to his ways; and though there be mercy to be found in Christ for the greatest sinners, yet are we notwithstanding me thinks to make account that God certainly requires our good behaviour in amendment of life, according to that of Saint Paul, in the second to the Corinthians, the 5. Chapter, If any man be in Christ he is a new creature. As the Father is Truth, so is the Son, and if we mean to be the better for him, and come through him as the way into Heaven, we must follow him as he is the way, and the truth, in newness of life; and therefore how can we, who be thus in the greatest state of sin, as we conceive ourselves to be both in the former passage of our life, as also especially now for these present thoughts, and tormenting impieties of mind, but needs expect and look for the greatest Condemnation of all men: so true is that Heathen, but wise speech, Se judice nemo nocens absolvitur.  

There is no advocate can plead our cause,  
When Conscience once doth prosecute the Laws.   
For nay, yet further, me thinks we do so much hate what we are, and applaud Truth and Justice, that unless we might be free from sin, from this wretched and hellish condition of mind, though God himself should now call us into Heaven, we would surely stand without; we could not, nor would not come in, unless he would show the like mercy upon all; unless all other men were bidden come in too, whom we are of opinion to be far more fit for it then ourselves.  
Well, this thought and conceit as it hath some reason in it, in that we cannot deject ourselves as low as our sins deserve; we know so much of ourselves that we cannot but think all others better than ourselves, who are so exceedingly bad in ourselves. I say again, as it hath reason in it, duly considering the unhappy state of sin; and this transcendent unhappiness of the mind, which is now so full of the Hell of tormenting distempers and despair, that we cannot think ourselves possibly capable of that most holy place, and glorious condition, which is only fit for the purity of Saints and Angels: yet is there no question a kind of close stubbornness usually joined with it, even in this our lowest dejection; thus I say, there may be though we do not all perceive it, too much stomach in us: too much stomach; as much as to say, Since that God hath not delivered us from these sins and wretched untowardnesses, we are therefore as it were careless to be delivered from the punishment; as if a Father for some discontent should shut his Child out of doors for an hour or two, though perchance the Father afterwards would let him come in, yet forsooth he will not, but in a mogging humour lies abroad all night. So verily in this aforesaid passage and conclusion of mind, as I conceive it, is not much unlike with us: as if God had fcarce dealt well enough with us, to let us fall into these snares of sin and distraction: therefore now peradventure in this case we do not much care for mercy; our Melancholy forsaken soul, as David in the 77. Psalms, refuseth comfort, and as jacob at the supposed news of ●osephs death, in the 37. of Genesis, would not take comfort of his friend; so now either we cannot, or will not take comfort from others; it is hard to tell truly which is the cause for sin▪  

These motions have so deep a secrecy,  
The truth thereof there's none can well descry.   
As I say, let the cause be what it will be, either real or imaginary, or deluding (for note this, that the excess of Melancholy in many of us is altogether a strong distempered delusion of fancy) however, sure enough it is to our seeming that we are not able to receive it, because whatsoever is said to us by any of our friends or others in the way of comforting us, now in this our extreme distress of mind: for the most part it is all in vain and to no purpose; as touching the sins which lie upon our consciences like mountains of Lead, too heavy for us to bear. If it be urged and applied that St. Peter forswear Christ his dear Lord and Master, after that he had a long time received so many gracious courtesies from him, after that he had been an ancient Apostle, full of heavenly wisdom and understanding; that David committed both Murder and Adultery in his elder age, after he had familiarly walked with God many years together, and yet both these so great offenders were easily forgiven. Again, that our Saviour Christ came into this World for nothing else, died for no other purpose but only to save sinners; and that he delighted in mercy whilst he was here amongst us, rejoicing to do his Father's work, that great work of mercy; as appeareth by his general Proclamation, Come unto me all ye that are weary and heavy laden, etc. and as it eminently appeareth by his manner of conversation upon earth, by being usually amongst, and familiar with Publicans and sinners, by his favourable and kind speech, and behaviour to that Woman taken in Adultery, to Mary Magdalen, and the like. Nay ●et once further, if it be urged and pressed unto our Consciences that the mighty Jehovah, even the Lord God himself in his own words hath spoken by the Prophet Ezekiel, As I live, saith the Lord God, I desire not the death of the wicked. And again most Pathe●tcally by the Prophet Isaiah, Though your sins were as crimson they shall be made as white as snow, though they were red like scarle●, they shall be as wool. If you will, I say if you will at last but endeavour to be reclaimed, if the consent, etc. as it follows in the next verse; intimating that it is not the greatness of our sins that can separate his mercy from us, if there be any desire or inclination to good, be it never so little, even as nothing; for he will not quench the smoking flax, nor break i bruised reed. Alas, it must needs be a very little fire that doth but make the flax to smoke, when as it is so combustible a thing that the least spark is able to set it in a flame. Alas, the brickle reed being bruised and crushed into shivers it is a very little holdfast that it hath, it is as good as quite broken off, and yet he will not break it off, it shall grow together again, become firm and useful▪ Such is the exceeding mercy of the Lord to poor sinners, even beyond all humane likelihood and capacity.  

When man doth see no hope, or life at all,  
Our God can then revive us with a call.   
And yet lo, all these comfortable persuasions can do no good, all this is but Surd● cavere. to sing as it were to a dead man; this, nor nothing of this fits our Disease, it comes not aneer me thinks unto our case, it agrees not with our malady, though Christ came into the world to save sinners, and though the Lord hath given most large and merciful promises in the Scripture for the comfort of sinners, yet this is nothing to us, this concerns not such sinners as we; such grievous, such constant, such highly rebellious sinners; if others have sinned grievously and yet are saved, certain there was a far greater reason for it in their other towardliness to good, or the like, then that we can find in ourselves. Mark it, it is this our present untowardness that always puts us into the greatest plunges of despair, and thus our thoughts stand fully possessed with nothing else but that we are remediless wretches, desperate miscreants, and utterly forsaken of God. And no marvel, that through this sad unhappiness of mind that we, we miserable, wretched, and sinful souls are thus forsaken, when as our blessed Saviour himself in that his great agony of trouble, and distress of mind on the Cross cried out, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? No marvel, I say, that we who are the greatest of sinners should be forsaken, and left alone to sink into unmerciful despair; when as he that was no sinner at all, even one with God himself, with the imputative burden of our sins, Cried out, as if he had been left destitute, and even ready to yield under them; My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? But to go on, O the strength of Melancholy, or rather indeed the strength of sin, and a convicted Conscience! In Melancholy natures there are no Arguments and Reasons of the most skilful Divines that can ease our hearts, or refresh our souls in this extremity of trouble, perhaps moderate Physic, convenient employment, and the constant company, direction, and guidance of some wise understanding party may be necessary outward helps for us; but verily the best inner comfort that at any time we do gather, though usually it be but little, is as I have formerly said by those that are, or have been afflicted with troubles and disturbance of mind, somewhat alike us in the same kind, either by a full understanding of the event, passages, and condition of their trouble, or else by conference with them if it may be, and communicating our estates and maladies together.  

Take't for a rule, that that Physician still  
In all Diseases fits the Patient best,  
Whose own experience doth improve his skill,  
And it confirms with a probatum est.   
The experience, I say, of others misery is the best satisfaction we can find in our own; and truly we do not meet with a better or more generally sovereign salve, in the comparing of all our judgements & experiences together, then in the midst of all our grievous tortures and distress of mind, to strive wholly to rest ourselves as quiet, as contented, and as patient as we may, and to tarry the Lords leisure. Our souls, our bodies, and all are in thine hands, O God, deal with us as it shall seem good in thine eyes; if thou hast ordained and prepared us for Heaven, blessed be thy Name; if thou hast given us over, and that we are like Tares bound up and fitted for Hell, blessed also be thy Name; it is doubtless for thy glory, and it is but our just desert; come life, come death, come Heaven, come He●l, the Will of the Lord be done; we are not able to sustain the care of ourselves, all the strength of our poor souls and bodies is not sufficient to take a full charge, or undergo care enough to preserve the least creature in the world, much less of so noble a creature as is the soul of man: Since therefore we are not sufficient for these things, we must do the best we may, and cast the rest of our care upon God; humbly resigning over ourselves unto him, that so he may bear that care for us, which our weak and narrow ●ouls cannot bear for themselves. Sure we do not a little offend God, I am verily of the mind, in being over much discontented, and impatiently grieved, as many times we are in ourselves; ●ot though in the bitterness of our misery being persuaded to be content, and to be resolved with more quietness of mind, we shall usually, not without reason, plead for our grieving and taking on so deeply. O Lord, how can we be quiet and at rest, to sustain such a Hell in our breasts? Can we carry fiery coals in our bosom and not be burnt therewith? Can our soul be racked with such tormenting anguish of impious thoughts, and despairing terrors, and yet not weep, sigh, and abundantly complain thereof? Doth not Hezekiah in the 38. of Esay, Chatter like a Crow, and a Swallow, and mourn like a Dove, for the fear of cutting off of a few momentary days, and can we be sufficiently impatient with grief, to be cut off from the Land of the living, even all hope of Heaven for ever? Shall Rachel mourn for the loss of her Children so that she will not be comforted, and can we weep and cry out enough for the loss of our souls unto all Eternity? Nay, can we endure but so much as to conceive the Devil haling, ●erking, and tormenting any of our dear friends, either living or departed this life; I say, to see their distracted looks, to hear their lamentable and intolerable cries, and not to have our bowels melt within us; and we can endure to see ourselves turned out from the face of God for ever, to burn and fry most deservedly with everlasting pains in Hell fire. O let us alone at the thoughts of these things, to pour out ourselves into Oceans of tears, and to roar, even roar aloud forth very disquietness of our hearts. I say,  

O let us howl; cry out, and make a moan  
Able to break the very hearts of stone.   
So just cause have we in this case, me thinks, to forrow without measure, nay more, if it were possible, then to the very death: Is there any cause of sorrow like this cause? Weep not for me, that labour may be spared to weep for other things: but weep for ourselves, there is cause enough; that is truly to be wept for, and nothing else but that for our souls unhappiness: And yet were it nothing else but our own eternal punishment and damnation that were to be lamented, though that were too too much, yet we could in some better sort bear it; but this alas, who can bear this? how can we endure these impious rebellions of mind, which are not only God's punishments for sin, but also a most highly sinful untowardness itself. Since than it is as it is, how can we choose but vehemently take on and complain in the anguish of our spirits? perchance it may be replied again unto us, that sure these rebellious untoward thoughts which we so complain of, can be no sins which are thus displeasing, thus tedious, thus full of trouble unto us. How can that act of the understanding be accounted ours, which we do not enjoy and truly consent unto? But grant whatsoever may be supposed, grant they be our own, grant they may justly be laid to our charge, and that the Devil in this case doth plough as it were with our Heifer; and that we are partners with him therein; yet certainly, both in regard of the despairing condition of our souls, or these Hell-invented thoughts, doubtless as I say, we are not a little offended in an over discontented vexing ourselves, for patience in any misery is the most pleasing and acceptable sacrifice unto God that can be, it is even a tended on with some blessing in the end: As we may not sencelesly slight this judgement, so we must endeavour patiently to bear it; O Lord, thou hast written most bitter things against us, thou pursuest us with intolerable judgements; and yet we must not cease in labouring to offer up jobs patient resolution, Although he should kill us, (even with a thousand deaths) yet will we trust in him; O Lord give me leave to speak it.  

Thou ●halt not shake us off so, here we'll lie  
Before thee prostrate, if we die we die.   
It is the Lords judgement, that we may be sure of, we are his creatures, and the work of his own hands, let him therefore do with us what shall seem good in his eyes; let this misery be never so bad, come never so unhappily unto us, this is our wisdom, we cannot do better than to keep ourselves calm from preturbations, as much as may be; and as the King of Israel gave order to his servants to give no answer to railing Rabshekah, neither good nor bad, so let our affections, if it be possible, give no answer at all, but suffer the thoughts, terrors, and dismaidness of our minds, silently and quietly to pass away again unregarded as they came; for these thundering storms and tempests of inward troubles, when they fall down right upon us, in such a forceless manner, like a violent stream usually carries down all before it, it will by no means be stopped or contraried, until it please God through our own poor prayers, and the assisting prayers of our friends, by little and little to send it away from us as it came: For this, I say this, take notice of it, this is always between whiles our main stay and comfort, that there may possibly be some hope of deliverance, at least, from those bitter troubles, in that we strive to pray continually with such weak prayers, as we can and do earnestly and often desire other our friends to pray for us. O Lord, though we dare not for fear, nor cannot for weakness come unto thee ourselves, being brought so low and feeble with this Palsy of the soul, this heart-shaking and trembling disease, yet like the man sick thereof in the Gospel, we desire to be carried and commended unto thee by the prayers of others; and sure, O Lord, thou knowest our misery and trouble right well, by the real experience of that thine own, when thou saidst in thine agony, in Mark 14 My soal is exceeding sorrowful unto the death. O thou that suffered'st the like grief, remember ours now at this time; O thou that hast dearer bowels of compassion to man kind, than the most affectionate mother can have to her tender child, be not, O be not so so hard hearted unto us  

To thrust us from thy face with that hard word,  
In the immortal censure of thine ire,  
Depart from me, ye cursed of the Lord,  
To dwell with Devils in eternal fire.   
Well, to go further with continued experience in this trouble, we find our minds usually to be more full of troubled thoughts and disquietness, as also our breasts and stomaches to be oppressed and charged with a kind of aching pressure and difficulty, about a pretty while after dinner or supper; the arising of melancholy fumes from concoction being, as I conceive, a concurring means somewhat the more to disturb us, sure there be many outward things that increase our inward melancholy in this most melancholy time of a troubled conscience, for behold in dark and gloomy weather, how are we more than ordinary solitarily sad and pensive, being altogether astonished and confounded in ourselves with confused clouds of unquiet distempers and amazement: Again, at the hearing of doleful news of death, or any dismal accidents, how exceedingly will our hearts swell, and be even ready to burst with a mournful reflecting dejectedness of mind.  

Cum repeto noctos queis tot mihi chara reliquis.  
Labitur ex oculis tunc quoque gutta meis.  
A tear doth slide down on my cheeks  
When I think on the nights,  
Wherein I forced was to leave  
So many dear delights.   
According to this of the Poet here, when as we do but remember and think on the golden times that are past, when as we do consider the deeds and pleasures that we then enjoyed, which being now, gone have left us to remain so unhappy behind them. How full of sadness are we to think that now we are so miserable of what we were, speaking mournfully to ourselves with job in the 29. chapter and 2. verse O that we were as in the months past, as in the days when God preserved us, when his candle shined upon our heads, and when by his light we walked through darkness, as we were in the days of our youth, etc. Wishing, O thus ● say, wishing for no greater happiness then that those times, and that condition of comfort might return unto us again, the things and times that are past, though never so lately, seems to us, me thinks, better than those that are present; he that is at no ease thinks for the most part what he feels to be the worst: such likewise is the nature of melancholy old age, ever to praise the days of its youth, for mi●i● familiari●as parit contemptum, the familiar and satisfying fruition of any thing, breeds a neglect and light regard thereof; and therefore now in our melancholy moods shall we be many times musing alone, and sadly thinking, perchance whole days together, on those worthy men that are dead and gone, either of our acquaintance or others, whom we have noted and observed for their good life and conversation here, whilst they were upon earth; accounting highly, of them, as holy and blessed Saints, with a most reverend respect of their deeds and sayings, and making much reckoning and esteem of whatsoever was theirs, and belonged unto them.  

Our serious thoughts do Canonize their fame,  
With the remembrance of a sacred name.   
And as joseph in the last of Genesis, fell upon his dead father's face, wept upon him, and kissed him, so do we fall upon the blessed remembrance of our forefathers, not with a little affection of respect weeping upon them, and kissing them with an holy love, and reverence of mind: After this manner the Ancients in Scripture seem to express their special regard to the pions antiquity of their friends departed, in using to say, The God of Abraham, of Isaac, and of jacob, as if they would intimate their piety, and devout affection to be the more unto him, because he was their father's God. But O the strange effects of Melancholy in this diseased state of the soul, our affections are now overweeningly moved with every thing often times by reason of the usual passion of the heart, we are so weakened in the ordinary power and ability of nature, that we shall even as weakly and childishly shrink in ourselves, and be afraid of any thing, as is the sucking child that lies in its mother's arms. Again, sometimes our conceit doth so much deify the respect of holy things, persons, and places, and we stand so far off from them in reverence of mind, that we dare not draw near, as it were, to touch so much as the very hem or outside thereof. In like manner many times the common splendour of the Sky and Element, through the habitual terror and consternation of our mind, seemeth too bright for us; nay our spirits are usually so much taken off therewith, that we cannot abide to lift up our eyes to behold the lustre of it: the seeing and hearing of divers ordinary things now and then, puts us into such strange turmoils and distempered fits of mind, that it is most wonderful to imagine it. In many of us the evil thoughts and disturbances of our fancy do at length multiply into a greater and greater variety, and we become full of all sorts of vain and tormenting imaginations whatsoever almost savours of either rebellion against God, or the despairing state of soul or body; it is a chance but one time or other it comes into ourheads, besides, at length perchance many fooleries of mind and frivolous whimsies, which verily at this time do not a little trouble and disturb us: amongst the rest, when this trouble of mind and Conscience continues with us long, it is so altogether tedious and irksome, that we shall many a time turn thus our thoughts within ourselves: Lord, how shall we hold out in this case? Will this trouble continue with us as long as we live? Shall we always abide this Hell upon earth? We have sometimes emboldened ourselves to hope, and hope again to attain some quieter temper of mind, and more contentful condition; all is we see utterly in vain, we shall sure never enjoy comfort any more: Alas, this is a miserable thing.  

O shall we never see an end of this?  
O never, never, this doth cut the heart;  
This never, ah! so strange a word it is,  
It kills us with a never dying smart.   
Verily me thinks it is altogether in vain for us to expect any end hereof, we shall never be otherwise; for as he that is cast upon the Sea, and when he listetn up his head to swim out is presently knocked down again, that he must needs be drowned; so, even so it seems to be with us, we are cast upon this sea of trouble and despair, and when we do but even begin to lift up our heads with the least hope of amendment, then presently do these despairing doubts, and amazing thoughts strike us down again, that it is no remedy but we must needs be drowned, drowned for ever, and go down to Hell, and the Grave in this misery.  

Our day is gone, our joys departed qnite,  
Our Sun is set in everlasting night.   
This Similitude of being drowned, after that we have been long in this case, doth so well fit us that it will, or perchance some such like, often come into our minds, and therefore being as we suppofe in this remediless condition, out of all hope of being settled in mind again, and being shut out as it were from the joy of the living, and never like to re-attaine the common hope of all men, the possibility of salvation; therefore, as I say, being thus forsaken wretches, monsters of men, and marked out for Hell, we neglect all care of ourselves, our desolate and quite comfortless souls hardly giving us leave to take any use of the Creatures, not so much as regarding our necessary clothes, the dressing ourselves, our Victuals, or any thing: we are unworthy, O unworthy to tread on the ground, our hearts are so much smitten down, and even withered like Grass, th●t we forget to eat our bread; our tears are now become our meat and drink in this day of trouble; and peradventure almost every night we water our beds with the abundance of them: Thou hast broken, O Lord, thou hast broken our hearts with grief; O remember that we poor wretches are but Grass, and wilt thou pursue the dry stubble? Sometimes it may be we shall be so far dejected with a Dovelike solitariness of mind, that we are even upon a resolution to exclude ourselves wholly out of the society of men, to be private and alone still, continually to keep our Chamber, or the like, and never to go abroad in company any more; thinking, what shall we do abroad to meddle or make with any thing, who are thus as it were dead men, and out of the common condition of men, we will set up our expectation therefore, only now to wait and look for out end; we will do nothing else, that shall be our whole business, as it was lobs, in his 14. Chapter, when he said, All the days of mine appointed time will I wait, and do nothing else but wait till my change come: thus I say, we are shut up from the joy of life, and like David in the 88 Psalms, Free, even altogether free among the dead, like unto them that be wounded and lie in the Grave, which be out of remembrance, and are cut away from thy hand; thou hast laid us verily as in the lowest p●t, in a place of darkness, and in the deep, thine indignation lieth hard upon us, and thou hast vexed us with all thy storms.  
Many times is our apprehension so dangerously out of joint, and contrary to all good duties, especially most of all when we are at Church, when we are going to the public Service of God, receiving the Sacrament, or the like; that we shall ruminate thus in our minds: amongst all the rest of our unhappinesses, how much do we dishonour God to come to this holy place, and these holy duties with such profane impieties within us, sure we shall half think it better not to come to the holy exercises at all then by going thereto to provoke Gods greater Judgement against us.  

Thus doth Devil always ' ploy his wit,  
If that he can to do more mischief yet.   
But certain in the end we ever find it our best way, how cross and averse soever our mind be to keep our constant course, and to hold on as steadfast as may be in our outward endeavours, though it seem to be nevet so much against our inward feeling; for we may observe, that when we have no feeling in us in reading, praying, or the like duties of Religion, and when we find nothing in ourselves but contrarinesse to that which is in hand, yet nevertheless by the then keeping our intention to it as near as we can; and by lifting up our thoughts toward the sense to conceive and believe that which being for the present as we are; we cannot conceive and believe we shall doubtless afterwards the more easily bring our thoughts into a due course and order again; for if we let flag our apprehension wholly to follow our own feeling, and suffer our disturbed soul to be its own guide herein, we may perchance fall into a strange disrespect and unregardfull profanation of the most sacred things, that we shall hardly put it freely off again for the future. To proceed, every thing during the time of our trouble is so altogether out of order within us, and our spirits are so daily spent and wearied out with this continual labour and toil of mind, that we are as David in his 6. Psalms, so weary, so quite weary of our groan and tormenting troubles, that many times we do wish to God that our apprehensions and understandings were rather taken clean from us, than thus to be left alone to the merciless torture of those distractions; and truly were it not for Hell we should gladly rejoice, and count it our chiefest happiness to die, wishing, and often wishing with job in his 3 Chapter, the 11. and 12. verses, that we had never been borne into the world, for now (as it follows in the next verse, we should have ●aine still and been quiet, we should have slept, then had we been at rest with Kings and Counsellors of the earth: And again, as it is in the 20. verse, Why is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the better in soul? Was it a pleasure for thee, O Lord, to give us being that we might be miserable? Are we like the Whales, job 7. that thou se●test a watch over us? that thou wilt not spare no● pass by our iniquities? Wilt thou hunt us (as he he speaks again in his 10. Chapter) like a fierce Lion without mercy? hast thou provided us as wild beasts are provided, to be baited with destruction?  
O no certainly, thou delightest not in the death of sinners, nor in the sad condition of the wicked, it is doubtless thy mercy that we are chastened, and thou hast compassion on our distresses; we shall think sometimes in our extreme troubles, that it is not possible for us, that we can continue in this state above three or four days, or a week more, but either we shall die with the very anguish of soul and body, which it seems to us that we cannot sustain or endure any longer, or else that we shall be quite senseless and distracted out of our minds: O how many poor souls are there in the world, who being not able to bear their own misery any longer, either destroy and desperately cast away themselves, or peradventure grow utterly distracted therein; It is thy mercy, even thy great mercy, O Lord, that we are not thus confounded; O let us ever pray, and pray continually, upon our bare and bended knees, against this unhappiness, Hoc erit animae me ae vetum usque ad mortem, this shall ever be my prayer until I die, both for myself and others.  

Let our lives last no longer  
Than that we may serve God here;  
Let affliction grow no stronger,  
Than we may with patience bear,   
When we do use to complain to others of these terrible thoughts and troubles of mind, many will reply unto us, that they are the Devils, not ours, and that he merely suggests and whispers them into our brains: But verily me thinks we cannot believe but that they are our own truly, flowing from our sin-corrupted souls, at least wise that they are partly our own, for did they come merely from without, from the Devil, it could not doubtless so nearly touch us as they do. Our Saviour Christ himself was moved from without, even to the highest impiety, to fall down and worship the Devil: But sure our thoughts are nearer to us, even from within, and truly, not without reason, may be called ours: it may be the Devil hath his hand in them, & it is no question but God hath his hand in them also, laying them as a merciful judgement upon us: And now, O Lord, it is high time, yea the time is come, that thou have mercy upon our souls, for why I know it grieveth thy very heart, O Lord, it pitieth thee full sore to see them lie in the dust thus prostrate in their own misery: And thus have we broke the heart of our troubles, and past over the chief passages of this tragical story of the Soul troubled in Conscience.  
These troubles may perhaps continue with us two or three years before they begin to wear away; and then when by God's mercy, they begin to slacken the mind and conscience, by little and little, takes some rest and satisfaction, and though fits of disturbance do now and then come upon us, yet it is more seldom then before.  
After the strength of this storm is past, we usually feel our inner man begin to be born again into a new condition, the former hard and stony flesh of our hearts, like N●amons flesh, being tender and renewed, even as the flesh of a young child 〈◊〉 lo, we can kindly weep now with the humility of children, think none evil with the simplicity and single heartedness of children, love dearly and tenderly with the affection of children, cry Abba, Father, with the comfort and confidence of children. And here me thinks we cannot but remember, even with joy and admiration, the truth of that divine wisdom which our Saviour hath spoken in john▪ Except a man be born again, be cannot see the Kingdom of God, Except we be borne again, and become like little children, we cannot enter into the Kingdom of God, for of such as he said in Mark 10. is or doth consist the Kingdom of God. Doubtless, when the soul is thus wonderfully born again, from the depth of sin and misery into comfort and grace, although the comfort be but little, even very little perchance in some of us; yet it is Magna animae regeneratio, I say, no doubt a great regeneration and new birth of the soul, and that which we have great cause to rejoice of; for you must understand it pleaseth God differently to dispose of the final period and conclusion of this our trouble according to his most blessed Will and purpose, giving some of us much more joy in the end of it then some; as also in some of us, continuing it like an ache in the limbs, ever now and then to mind us until our dying day; and some of us again after a while never feel it any more. O Lord, what reward of thanks can we give unto thy mercy that hast done so great things for us whereof we now rejoice? Verily no Tongue can speak, no finite understanding can comprehend, it hath never entered into the apprehension of either man or Angel, the infinite goodness that thou dost extend to the souls of sinners.  

O now with David we may sweetly sing, 
Psal. 101. 1   
Of Mercy and judgement to our heavenly King.   
And hath the Lord God Almighty, that is most wonderful in all his Works done this great Miracle for us, in casting out this foul Devil, this foaming and raging Beelzebub, this chief of all misery out of our souls? O let us then take heed that we sin so no more lest a worse thing come unto us, lest he get power to come in again, and bring seven other with him worse than himself. Here you may take notice as I say, That in some of us this our misery is not so fully quenched, nor this Devil so cast out, but that there remains in us ever now and then the touches of our former misery, though the heart of it be broken yet the being is not wholly taken away; God in his infinite Wisdom so ordering it, perchance to exercise our patience, or some other cause which he only knoweth, and we cannot fully judge; only let this be our chiefest care since sin and misery must needs dwell with us whilst we live, that (if possible) we keep ourselves within the compass of patience, and humility in all conditions of our life, let us in patience possess our souls; and though as St. Paul in the 20. of the Acts, when he was going to jerusalem knew not what things should come unto him there, save only saith he, That the Holy Ghost witnesseth in every City, saying, That bands and afflictions abide me: so we that are travelling to the new jerusalem, being sure of nothing in our Journey, but sure of trouble, yet as Aeneas in the Poet, comforted his wandering Soldiers, whom necessity had banished from their own Country, that the Destiny had promised them in the end a resting place in Italy, I say as he thus comforted them:  Pervarios casos per tot discrimina rerum tendimus in latium sedes ubi fata quietus ostendunt. 
So in like manner may we Pilgrims and Stronger's of this world thus cheer up ourselves in consideration of our Journeys end, although that now  

Through many dangers, miseries and woe,  
Like Pilgrims we are tossed to and fro:  
Our comfort is, the Fates tell we shall come  
In death at length to have a resting home.   
Whilst this our trouble is wearing away we shall be for the most part full of charitable and fellow-feeling thoughts to be lovingly affected, and doing good unto all, especially to the distressed in what case soever, even unto our utmost ability; as also we shall use to be frequently weeping, and condoling our unhappy life; weeping I say, and sorrowing like melancholiy Heraclitus, and wishing that we might dissolve out the residue of our days into tears, in redeeming the time because our days have been so evil; and that the whole action of our momentary life might now be nothing else but a mournful and Swanlike Song of preparation to our end.  

Our sighing soul with Dovelike melody  
Laments her sins, and learneth how to die.   
jacob when Pharaoh asked him how old he was, answered, That his days were few and evil; how much more truly may we say of our short and sinful days, that they are few and evil: he was an old man, and yet his days were few, he was a good man, and yet his days were evil. Oh the short and evil estate of man's life! wise men have always accounted their days but few, for that their thoughts are fixed upon God, and then says David, Min● age is nothing in respect of thee; and again, for that their thoughts are fixed upon the blessed Eternity of the world to come, and then they consider with St. Paul, That they have no continuing City here, but they seek one to come. I say, wise men thus esteemed their days few, and they accounted them likewise evil; evil in regard of sin, for they feel the experience of St. Paul's case, That when they would do good evil is present with them: and evil also in regard of misery, for job says, Man is borne to trouble as the sparks fly upwards. And is it not too true that man is thus borne to trouble? If not, what meaneth that complaining which I hear? Hark how Cai●e cries out in the fourth of Genesis, My punishment is greater than that I am able to bear; and do you not hear Eliah under the Juniper Tree, in the first of Kings, the 19 Chapter, how he requesteth for himself, That he might die: and jonah under the Gourd, saying, Take away my life, for it is better for me to die then to live. jeremy is even blind with weeping, Lamentations the second Chapter, Mine eyes do fail with tears, my bowels are troubled, my liver is poured out upon the earth and all for the affliction of his people for the misery of man; Solomon in the 6. of Ecclesiastes, thinks it far better not to be borne then to undergo the miseries of this life; how often doth job lament his days, and David complain of his troubles? the Shunamites. Child in the second of Kings cries out, O my head, my head; another perchance cries out, Oh my stomach, oh my heart, oh my Conscience, oh my belly, oh my feet; A capite ad calcem, from the top to the toe, from the beginning to the end; for aught we can perceive there is little true comfort or pleasure in the life of man.  

With tears we came into this life,  
With sorrow we go out again:  
We live in trouble, care, and strife,  
And have our labour for our pain.   
We have seen not a little experience of the manifold changes and variety of alterations that are Created for mankind under the Sun, and verily me thinks the counsel of Ecclesiasticus in his 38 Chapter, and the 20 Verse, well weighing the condition of all things is full of wisdom and discretion, that is, To take no heaviness to heart, to drive it away, and to remember the latter end. I say, To take no heaviness to heart; that is, Not to grieve over much, or take on out of reason, least as St. Paul said of the excommunicate person in the second Epistle to the Corinthians, and second Chapter, We be swallowed up of too much sorrow; for this being swallowed up too much, this over-yeelding up our strength of nature to solitary grief, and mournful Melancholy gives the Devil many times great advantage of us, as he intimates in the 11. verse of the aforesaid Chapter, Lest Satan, says he, should g●t advantage of us; for we are not ignorant of his devices, indeed we ought duly to be humbled, and as St. Paul speaks in the first Epistle to the Corinthians, the 5. Chapter, To deliver over ourselves, our senseless stubbornness unto Satan for a time, for the destruction of the flesh, that the spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord jesus. But we must understand also, that it is not convenient for us to grieve without measure, and without end, for certainly it is not the sorrow of heart that doth help us in such disease, it may hinder us of help, it is the religious cheerfulness of a better desire that in time works the cure; therefore we may herein advise ourselves as St. Paul did Timothy, in his first Episte unto him, and 5. Chapter, To drink no longer water, that is, not to feed too much on the bread of carefulness, nor drink in the water of affliction into our souls, but to use therewith a little wine; I say a little wine, Wine which (as David saith) maketh a merry heart; to strive to take comfort, and to be merry in the fear of God, whereby nature may be the better enabled also, to set to her assisting hand in the deliverance: Mirth cannot err as long as it remembers its latter end, and the fear of God, to enjoy both ourselves and Gods blessings in a moderate and cheerful manner is not only lawful but necessary for us; Religion is no enemy to honest mirth, neither doth the Almighty desire the death of sinners, but their life; their death of grief but their life of grace. Alas, we are but weak Creatures, and of a short continuance. O Lord, we have sinned, as job saith in his seventh Chapter, What shall we do unto thee, O thou preserver of men? and as he saith again in his sixth Chapter, Is our strength the strength of stones; or is our flesh of brass? O Lord, we cannot abide the fury of thy wrath for sin, nor are we able to behold thy sierce indignation; thou therefore that bringest man to destruction, humblest him down to Hell, and the Grave, and sweetly sayest, Come again ye children of men, re-exaltest him to thy favour. O consider that our age is short, even no more than as a span long, we are, alas we are but Pilgrims, Strangers, and Sojourners here as all our fathers were; O spare us, therefore spare us a little, this little space which remains of our life, that we may recover our strength, before we go hence and be no more seen.  

Before we go thither from whence we shall  
Return no more, no more, no more at all.   
And now me thinks I hear the Body thus speaking unto the Soul, O my love, wilt thou go away from me? Alas, wilt thou go away from me? thou knowest that I have no comfort at all but thee, thou art my joy, my whole delight, and wilt thou be gone, and leave me behind here to be utterly cast away, to putrify, rot, and perish in the earth? If the Disciples were so sad and sorrowful at the departure of St. Bawl, in that he said, They should see his face no more; how dost thou think I can choose but even swoone and die with conceit that thou wilt thus leave me, me poor wretch, that can have no being nor subsistence without thee? but lo, the Soul replies. Why dost thou weep my dear? though I must go from thee for a time yet be not discomforted, I will come and see thee again, and embrace thee with everlasting embracements, I will then never go from thee more; O give me leave to depart, for God hath decreed it, Nature hath appointed it, we cannot live together on Earth as we be, but we shall live together hereafter in a most absolute and perfect being, we must needs submit to mortality:  

Ah, there's no continuing here, my sweet heart,  
Death doth the dearest lovers part;  
For why? we are mortal and all must away,  
To take our lodging down in the clay.   
But though we lie down yet shall we rise again, and that even in a while; for lo, but little while, and he that shall come to open the Graves, to fold up the Heavens like a scroll, and to unbarre the fatal strength of time; I say, he that shall come will come, and will not tarry. Oh! but a little while, and the Son of man shall appear like the bright Lightning, with the glorious company of his most holy Angels, to gather together the four corners of the earth, even the people from the one end thereof unto the other unto a day of Judgement, where we shall then stand before the Judgement Seat of God, to be settled in a perpetual and never ending condition: wherefore let our spirits, O let our spirits, and all that is within us with the aspiring Lark humbly mount up to meet the Lord in the Clouds now before hand; with this melodious Anthem, this song of Zion in our mouths, O blessed jesus, remember us with mercy wh●n thou comest into thy Kingdom; O thou that comest ●● judge the world condemn●us not for our sins at the last day; O sweet Saviour deliver us from that red Dragon, which openeth his terrible mouth ready to devour us: O preserve us a while here on earth, that we may be with thee for ever in Heaven.  

To see the mighty glory and renown  
Of him that is, and was, and is to come,   
And to that end make us, O make us in these few hours which we have to live, never to forget the words which thou faidest of thyself in the ninth of St. john, the fourth verse, whilst thou wast on earth amongst us: I must work the works of him that sent me while it is day, the night cometh when no man can work: That we may take this thy example for a pattern all our lives long, and may turn this thy holy resolution into our practice and meditation continually. First, that as thou didst work, so must we work here and not be idle. 2. That as thou didst work the works of him that sent thee into the world, so must we also work the will of our father which is in Heaven. 3. That as thou didst it in thy day, so must we do it in our day, this day of our life. 4. For as the night, the night of thy Passion cometh, so our night of death is continually approaching. 5. And then no man can work, even no man at all can work out his salvation. O excellent rule I here is room enough for our souls to exercise their thoughts day and night, even this day of working until that night of rest; this day of life until that night of death, when no man can work. To begin with the first observation, that as our Saviour Christ so must we Christians work and take pains; before Israel could come to their Canaan of rest they did pass through a wilderness of troubles: no end can be attained but by the means▪ there is no coming to salvation but by the way, no getting into Heaven but through the Gate; and our Saviour hath told us (we must believe it) That strait is that Gate, and narrow is that way which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it: if we must eat our bread with the sweat of our brows, sure we cannot save our souls with being idle. if God will not part from his earthly things, which in St, Paul's language are but dung, unless we give for them our labour and travel, will he sell us that precious pearl, the Kingdom of Heaven for nothing? No, no; the Merchantman in the Gospel sold all that he had to buy it, and we must not think to have it at a cheaper rate. Quam laboren suscipimus ascendere colles quid vero ut ascendamus coelum. So St. Cyprian, what labour do we take to get up a hill, how much more must we take to get up to Heaven. Our Saviour took not his Disciples of idle persons, but of painful Fishermen, and from the midst of their labours to show us, that Christianity is not a lazy Trade, an idle Profession: there is not one of the Saints gone before us but hath trod many a weary step ere he came to Heaven, the gall of outward crosses, and the vinegar of inward afflictions that was their portion to drink; and doubtless had there been an easier way they had not all trod in so rugged a path. Christ is truly our way, and he himself had no better portion in all his life, but continual labour and travel; he was always working, as here I must work, says he, The works, etc. he was ever all his life long walking to and fro, taking care and pains in Preaching, doing Miracles, full of troubled and pensive thoughts, ●orrowing and weeping even many times in the grief of his spirit, but seldom or not at all shall we find him sitting still without employment, laughing, making merry, or taking any recreation, and though we cannot come near his perfection, yet saith one, Deus abunde declaravit in fillio qua ratione servos suos in hoc orbe tractari veli●. God hath plainly showed, that since his Son did undergo so much trouble, his servants may not expect only to live at pleasure, in rest and content. What a toil had Saint Paul to pass through this vale of misery in watchings, in fasting, in prayer, in fightings, in all manner disquietness.  

Nunquam bella piis nunquam certamina desunt,  
Et quocum certet meus pin semper bab●t.  
Trials and troubles always are at hand,  
True piety of mind for to withstand.   
The righteous man must not look to have his portion of good things in this life, all that will live godly here are to make their accounts of nothing else but difficulties and careful inconveniences to attend them; snares and temptations from without, terrors and distress of mind from within; every day, every hour, every moment, something is out of order; if we be not furnished from top to toe with Saint Paul's Armour, we must look for nothing but wounds and foils in this spiritual life, for Congrediendum est tanquam in arie voluptuariis rebus; so Macrobius, We must fight like Soldiers against the temptations of the World, and as Soldiers we must not only fight, but watch too. Watch, I say, day and night, standing in readiness against our spiritual adversary, who goeth about continually like a roaring Lion, seeking whom he may devour. What shall I say? if we look on all particulars, a christians life is nothing for the most part, but a real purgatory upon Earth, an Hereulian labour, the very Epitome of all difficulties. Lucian could say it, Non parum est resistere to● quidem voluptatibus, It is no small matter to encounter with so many pleasures, much more with so many sins, so many terrors of mind; we have here verily a hard race to run, a hard Battle to fight, yet so fight we, as not those that beat the air; so run we, as not uncertainly; there is an eternal weight of glory set before us, a certainty of comfort in the end; fear not, our Saviour hath said it, it is your Father's pleasure to give you a Kingdom for your labour, Quodlibet opus leve est quum praemium ejus cogitatur, saith Jerome, There is no pains can be thought too much, when we consider the greatness of the recompense. Saint Paul is persuaded that nothing that we undergo in this life, can be worthy the glory that shall be revealed; and well might he so think: O Lord, the utmost that we can do or suffer, is not worth the least glimpse of that glory which thou hast prepared for them that love thee, and yet thou acceptest the weakness of our poor desires, as an ample satisfaction; when we have done all that possibly we can do. we have done but our duties, we are unprofitable servants, and yet so abundant is thy goodness towards us, that thou wilt be pleased to impute that unto us, which is so small a matter, that we cannot of ourselves acknowledge it to be any thing, for they shall answer as it is in the 25. of Saint Matthew, When saw we thee hungry, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink, etc. And the King shall answer and say unto them again, Verily I say unto you, in as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my Brethren, ye have done it, etc. Verily, I will accept of this, this nothing, as it were, of yours, as a great reward, and this is the reward, this is the price that we must give for Heaven, a purchase truly well worth the utmost that we can do: For  

Quid potes aeterno pro munere forre laboris,  
Mercedi an tantae par labour esse potest.   
I say,  

What labour is enough? what sweat? what pain?  
For to receive such an immortal gain.   
Be we not startled at the difficulty of the work, for saith Seneca, It is not the part of a man, to be afraid of labour, much less of a Soldier, and much less yet of a christian Soldier, who serves such a General, that he may be sure will never deceive him, nor cast him off without his pay, for he serves him with whom there is no variableness at all, nor shadow of change, even God himself; which is the next observation, and now to be considered. As our Saviour wrought the works of him that sent him into the world, so must we Christians work and do the will of our Father which is in Heaven, we are taught, not my, but thy will be done, & quid melius potes velle quam qu●● Deus vult, what is there that thou canst rather desire then to do the will of God? saith the Philosopher, Gods will is the Centre of all humane wills, where they naturally enjoy their rest and quiet, and though they may for a time seem to fix a kind of delight and pleasing satisfaction on other things, yet is there no true, no perfect and full rest, but in God's will. O thou soul of man, why dost thou send out thy thoughts so far, to seek rest and happiness in rithes, in honours, in learning, in pleasure; alas, in these things it is not to be found, intra te est falicitas tua, thou must look after it within thee, if thou mean to find it thy understanding, thy will, and thine affections, sweetly turned to the Service of God; This, O this, alone is that good which hath true content. No, S●mpsons strength, Salomon's wisdom, or David's victories, can give any felicity at all to the mind of man▪ without God; in the performance of God's will is the whole perfection of man's good: And therefore  

When Adam did at first Gods will transgress,  
He made us slaves to all unhappiness,   
That was it that brought so much trouble, so many sicknesses, so much death and hell into the World▪ and it is that still that keeps us in perpetual misery; we eat and are not satisfied, we labour and have no comfort therein, and all because we do not fully submit ourselves to Gods Will; there is nothing can do us good any further than as it is conformable to the Will of God: for behold, we may work, and work hard all our lives long even in the best things, and be never the nearer Heaven. Thus doth our Religion make no progress to salvation, when we will be religious only after our own fashion; here none but such things as please our humour, practise such piety as hugs our Genius▪ this is as St. Paul speaks in the third Chapter of the second Epistle to Timothy, this is verily I say, to be lovers of pleasures, of our own fancy and delight, more than lovers of God, having in profession a form of godliness, but in effect denying the power thereof: and thus, when there is so much of ourselves put into the duties of Religion, our fasting, our prayers, our alms, and the like, we may say as St. james did in another case, Sure this Religion is vain, and altogether in vain. Tam grande malum est voluntas propria. So great a mischief, saith St. Bernard is our own will, even so great a mischief that it breaks the neck of all religious duties be they never so glittering, making them as the father hath it only, Splendida peccata, glorious sins, whereas an humble conformity to do the Will of God, though with the meanest abilities is a great proficiency in Christianity, a little leaven of our own wtll and humour in the service of God is of such an infectious strength, that it is able to sour the whole lump of Religion; so necessary it is for us, as our Saviour saith to, Beware of this leaven of the Pharisees, the humoursome self-conceitedness of our own ways, Whosoever will come after Christ must deny himself, I say, must deny himself, and take up his Cross and follow him; for they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections and lusts; they have renounced their own wills, they have put off themselves with that fiat voluntas tua, Thy will be done. It shall not profit us to give away all our goods to the poor, or even to l●se our lives, unless it be in Ordine ad Deum, to perform God's will, & for his sake. S. Paul when he began to live the life of a Christian, left off to live the life of a natural man, I live, saith he, Gal. 2. 2. Yet not I, but Christ liveth in me. Thus must Christianity thrust out nature because the natural man cannot please God; O Lord, whilst we are in the flesh, we cannot serve thee as we would; but Oh that we were delivered from this servitude of sin, that we might freely embrace this heavenly employment, Maxiraum est munus Deo ministrare, Isocrates counts it the best office in the World to serve God; And how can it be otherwise? for as one notes, that Saints in Heaven do rather rejoice in doing the will of God, then in enjoying their own happiness. O blessed work, can we but desire that which is as good as Heaven itself.  

The trade of Saints is to rejoice always  
In their Creator's will, and sing his praise.   
For thus they say in the fourth of the Revelations, and the 11. verse. Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour, and power, for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created, because thy will is fulfilled, therefore we rejoice and set forth thy glory for ever, It was the very meat and drink of our blessed Saviour all the while that he was in the World, to do his Father's will, sure he loved it so much that he did nothing else from his childhood to his death; and he that did so much delight in it himself, doth so much like it in us, and so highly esteem it, that for it he doth not only vouchsafe us the name of friends, but we must claim kindred with him, he hath said it himself, He that doth the will of my Father, he is my Brother, and Sister, and Mother; Drexelius makes it to be the perfection of felicity, unicam in omnibus Dei voluntatem, etc. to be observant in all things to the will of God, is the compendium and sum of a most ●appy life; since than we are to do the work and will of such a Master, whose service is an happiness, whose commands are not grievous, and delights not in bloody sacrificing of ourselves, but only in a cheerful obedience: O let us not be worse than the Centurians servants, who when to one of them he saith, go, he goeth; and to another come, he cometh, and to the third, do this, and he doth it.  
So much for the second thing to be considered, That we must do the will of our heavenly Father. The third is, That we must do it in this our day or opportunity of life, while it is day. Not months, not years, not ages, are to be expected, we have but a day for it, and no more, we may husband this short time to our best advantage, to day if we will hear his voice we may, for this is the appointed time, this is the day of salvation, aut nunc aut nunquim, what we do we must do now or never, up therefore and be doing, presence tempus operationis est futurum retributionis, so saith Nazianz●n, the present time is the time of working, the time to come is the time of rest, the least neglect at this time is an everlasting loss and hindrance to us; we shall never have again the opportunity we now have, aliqua est rerum omnium recuperatio nulla temporis, saith one, there may be some recovering or▪ repairing of any thing else that we lose, none at all of time, our money, our honour, our health, may be restored again but our time is so precious, that if once lost, it is for ever lost. Lamachus, a Captain, on a certain time chid one of his Soldiers for committing a fault in the Field; the Soldier promised him never to do so again, but he replies, in bello non licet bis peccare, good fellow thou mayst not commit a fault twice in the Battle since that one fault is enough to lose all: It is our case. Post est occasio calva, this opportunity being once lost, can never be recalled, this day being gone no man can work▪ there is a time when the Virgins may enter in with the Bridegroom, there is also a time when the door is shut; there is a time when the pool of Bethesda is troubled by the Angel, and there is also a time when it is not; vere poenitens de tempore nihil perait, saith Saint Bernard, the true repentant Christian omits no seasonable time, because he cannot tell when he shall have another; the wise man bids thee go to the Pismire thou sluggard, she ployes her time in the Harvest, to provide against winter, this is the summer and harvest for our salvation.  

Non estas ita semper erit componite nidos.  
The Summer that is now cannot long last,  
O then provide before it be all past.   
O let us provide, I say provide in time, Before (as Solomon saith) the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the Pitcher broken at the ●ountaine, or the wheel broken at the Cistern; then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit return to God that gave it.  

Dum vires annique sinunt tollerate laborem,  
jam veniet tacito curva senecta pede.   
It is here good to take the Poet's advice, to work whilst we have strength and vigour, whilst we have marrow in our bones, and perfect health in our bodies; there is a night of old age too as well as of Death, and then no man can well work; we must consecrate the first fruits of our age to Religion, and remember our Creator in the days of our youth.  

Non semper utolae non semper lillia florent.  
The Violets, and the sweetest Lilies, they  
Do soon put off their brave and rich array.   
The flower and chief of our age will quickly fade, so soon passeth it away and we are gone. Have we any business of moment to be done, we will be sure to be stirring betimes about it; the work of our salvation concerns us more than any work, than any business besides. O let us then be stiriing betimes about this, early in the morning, I say the morning of our youth, which is the best time of working. Collige virgo rosas & memor esto aevum sic properare tuum, O young man, gather the prime Rose of thy time while it is fresh, for remember ere night the Sun will make it wither. Is there not a season saith, the Wise man, and a time for every purpose under the Heaven? a time to be born, and a time to die, etc. Our words here answer him, There is a day to work, and a night not to work, a day for employment, and a night for rest: The busy Bee is hot at her labour in the Sunshine, whilst lazy man lies asleep in the shadow. O the foolishness! O the madness of man, to lose so much time of so little! How many excuses do we make, rather than we will take the pains to go to Heaven? How many days do we put off with a Cras, cras; to morrow, to moroow, when woe is us many times the last s●nd of our life is even now running out; this is our wont, commonly to procrastinate from one day to another, from one month, from one year, from one time to another, till at last peradventure it be too late; the day sure is far spent, and the night is at hand, let us take heed, it is great folly to say, We will live as we should to morrow, we must live to day if we will be sure to live at all; he that deferreth the time of his working in this life, shall not be able to defer his punishment in the life to come; Et acerbissima est mora quae t● ahit penam, And that is a most bitter delay (saith St. Austin) which increaseth our punishment; he that doth not prevent it bef●r● shall repent it after when it is in vain. In all other things ●e do find the danger of delays, and we can take heed to prevent it: we will not lose a fair day in Harvest, a prosperous gale of wind to set to Sea, an advantage to get preferment, and the like: See in every thing else we can be wise enough save only in this and this only unto salvation. I shall wish that for ourselves which Moses did for the Children of Israel, Deut. 32. and the 29. Oh that we were truly wise, that we understood this, that we would consider our lat●er end; Oh that we would remember (with David) how short our time is, Oh that we would remember (with Sa●●mon) the end, and then we should not do amiss; Oh that we would duly consider with our Saviour here, that the night is at hand, we would doubtless work while it is day, because the night cometh; which is he fourth Observation, and comes next to be thought on; for the night, the night of our death cometh, or is continually approaching; the night, a long night that shall never have a morning.  

Soles occider● & redire possunt,  
Nobis cum s●mel occidit brevis lux,  
Nox est perpe●uo u●● dormierd●.   
The Sun setteth and returns again, but man dyeth, and where is he? He shall not return again from the Grave, and his place (saith Job) sball know him no more: Oh, alas, no more for ever.  

From all our friends, our goods, and houses, we  
By death must part to all eternity▪  
O woe is us that we must needs away,  
ne'er to come back no more, no more for aye.   
Never to see again, be acquainted with, or so much as to hear of any of these earthly things any more, with which many of us are now so earnestly and wholly taken up, as if there were no other thing or being to be thought on. O me, what pity is it:  

That most of us so lavishly do spend  
Our days, as if they never should have end:  
Our thoughts with death we never care to try,  
Till death itself doth teach us how to die.   
Till death seize upon us, and the night be at hand wherein no man can work: for we must be assured that this long, this everlasting night continually cometh on towards us, there is no escaping of death; no Achitopbels policy is able to bribe or put off this faithful Pursuivant of Heaven: we must all, all away to our long home, and make our beds in the dust. What man liveth and shall not see death, or shall deliver his soul from the hand of Hell? Omnes eadem sorte premimur, Mine, thine, his, and every one's Lot is cast, the hour and the minute of our lives is limited; far off it cannot be, for it cometh, or is coming, how soon we cannot tell: Watch therefore, even watch continually since ye know not the hour: Vitae summa brevis spem nos ve● at incboare longam. The whole sum of our life is but short, how then can we expect death to be far off. David calls our life a shadow, Job a smoke, Solomon a Ship: In a Ship, saith a Father, whether we sit or stand we are always carried towards the Haven; so our life is ever moving towards death, no hour but the Sun goes Westward, no moment but our age hastens to its end, to its long end, it will quickly come, the longest day hath his night; Methusalem hath his mo●tuus est, and he died: I say, the longest day hath its night, and here it puts me in mind of that our Proverbial saying, All the life-long day, the day fitly expressing our life, and our life a day; a day, only a summer's day towards the evening the Sun shines out most bright and glorious, and lo presently it is down: such is the shortness and sudden departure of our life, that David in like manner hath most aptly expressed it by a tale; We bring our years (saith he) to an end even as it were a tale that is told; for when it goes pleasantly on, and we expect to hear more of it, before we are aware on't it is ended: thus as it were, In the midst of life we are in death, and are cut away like the flower which fadeth in a moment; verily therefore all flesh is Grass, and the glory thereof but as the flower of the field: and yet such is most times our folly, so to build up our thoughts here upon Earth as if we had an Eternity to live for ever; whereas do but we duly consider it, every day that goes over our heads bids us be in readiness for death, gives a sufficient Item of Mortality:  
Immortalia nesperes monetannus & almain etc. So many days, so many months, so many years past and gone, so many passing Bells, so many Funerals celebrated before our eyes must needs forbid us to expect a long time. Saint chrysostom saith, That nothing hath deceived men so much as the vain hope of a long life; who knoweth the Sun may set at the morning of our life. or at noon; if at neither of these yet be sure the Evening cometh, and then it will set. The Lord bids Moses in the 19 Chapter of Exodus, To prepare the people against the third day, although we pass over the first day our youth, and the second day our middle age, yet at furthest we must be ready against the third day our old age: the first or the second day may be our last, the third day must needs be our last: and therefore saith Seneca, Omnis dies sicut ultima est ordinanda: Every day ought so to be ordered as if we should not live a day longer. Me thinks Saint Austin's experience should be a sufficient warning to us, for saith he, Experti sumus multos ' expirasse expectantes reconciliari: We have seen many to have been cut off, whilst they have but begun to make their reconciliation with God. too too many alas there be whose Sun hath set ere they thought it to be their Midday. Let us take heed that death steal not on us as a thief in the night; Lucius Caesar died in the morning putting on his clothes, Alphonsus a young man died as he was riding on his Horse: We need not seek after foreign Examples, there be too many of the same nature at home with us. How many have we seen before our eyes, some to be snatched from their pleasures, some from their sins, some from their worldly employments; whereas they have made their accounts of many years to come, so true is that of the Poet:  

Nemo tam divos habuit faventes,  
Crastinum ut possit polliceri diem.  
The Gods no man did ere such favour give,  
That he was sure another day to live.   
There is no certainty of this life not for a d●y, not for an hour, no not so much as for a moment; God hath many means to take us away even in an instant, as we go up and down, as we sleep, as we do but draw our breath, any how; good is it therefore that we have a Memento mori always, at all times hanging over our heads, like that Sword in the Story which hung by a Horse hair over the head of him that sat at Feast, putting us in a due fear and warning of the continual danger that we are in; I say always hanging over our heads, and so imprinted in our thoughts that we may seriously remember how short our time is, how soon our night cometh; It is Plato's Opinion, That a wise man's life is nothing but a continual thinging or meditating upon death, Philip King of Macedonia had his Page three times every morning to tell him, Philip, remember that thou art a man, that thou art mortal, that th●u must die. O excellent Memento, and most worthy to be imitated; the Emperor of Constantinople was wont sitting in his Royal Throne to have a Mason come to him with his Tools in his hand, ask, What kind of stone he would have his Tomb made of; intimating, that he should not forget how soon all that his Royal pomp might be buried in the Grave.  

And here me thinks I cannot but repeat,  
The famous Act of Saladine the great.   
Who amidst his noble Victories, and conquering Triumphs, had so much mind of his death, and the true end of all earthly glory, that he appointed his winding shee● to be carried upon a Spear before him at his Funeral through out the City, proclaiming thus his intention of mind.  

All these my Riches, glorious Pomp and Train,  
When D●●th is come they are to me in vain:  
This Winding sheet is all that I shall have  
Along with me, to carry to the Grave.   
The good Father was so mindful of Mortality, that he had always ringing in his ears, Surgite mortui & venite ad judicium, Rise ye dead and come to Judgement, to the end he might husband his time; so work in this day of his life here, that he might not be found an unprofitable Servant when his night came. johannes Godfridus had these words engraven in Gold; Every day I stand at the door of Eternity. And in divers parts of his House he had set up the bones and Sculls of dead men, that so his eyes if it were possible might have no other Object to behold then of mortality. Sure there are no thoughts do more concern us Mortals then those of Death; O then, Teach us so Lord to number our days that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom, that our souls may so wisely esteem the shortness of this life, that we may never forget this; this I say, in the Field, in our Journey, in our Beds, at all times, and every where, while it is day, whilst we live; that the night, that is, our death cometh, and then no man can work; which is the last observable thing, and the effect of the night. No man can work. Man goeth forth to his work and to his labour until the Evening. Until the evening, no longer; we have done in this life whatsoever we shall do. Mors ultima linia rerum. Death is the full period of all our Actions, there remains now no more tears of Repentance, no more works of Piety, no more sacrifice for sin, no more, I say, no more for ever: Physic comes too late when the party is deceased. Actum est, we have acted●our parts here whilst we were in this life, all now is done, the scene is ended. Remember my Son, that thou in thy life time receiveast thy good things, that thou hadst then the opportunity to have made thyself happy for ever if thou wouldst: but what canst thou now give to redeem thy soul, when instead of good works thou hast nothing but pain and torment, instead of the godly sorrow of repentance, nothing but the Hellish sorrow of despair. Oh how many millions of years would the miserable soul be glad to work the hardest work that might be invented, if it were but possible for her to work out her salvation; O how precious would she esteem those minutes, and gather up those crumbs of time which she hath here so foolishly neglected: and thus me thinks that lamentable voice of the untimely departed soul doth sound this warning peal in our ears▪  

All ye that live, by me learn to be wise,  
Your precious time at higher worth to prize:  
For ●oe alas, my time was passed so soon,  
That night was come ere that I thought it noon.   
And now too late unhappy wretch Idearly lament my headless f●lly; Spes omnium in bot or be molestiarum est admirabile lenimentum. Hope saith Drexelius, is an excellent refreshing, and comfort in all the troubles of this life; as long as there is some hope there is some comfort, and be our miseries never so great, we are here in possibility to have ease of them: but after death there is not the least possibility, hope, or comfort a● all to be expected, the Doom is past, no man can work, all the world is not able to purchase one drop of ease or refreshing any more. O that it is too late, too late, too late to cry for mercy; O that the door is shut and there is no entering in. Give me saith one, a River of tears to weep before I die: well might he wish it, for he knew there was no weeping to any purpose when he was dead.  

O let me weep, weep, weep, and ne'er give o'er  
My sins, till I have washed clean away:  
O let me never cease for to implore  
My judge, till I come to the judgement Day.   
O let us repent now, for we cannot repent in that day, if ever we mean to do ourselves good, now is the time, because we cannot work when the night is come: Let us therefore work while it is day, while we have time, while we may work: Obsecro vos, O Christiant per vos perquae salutem vestram, etc. as Drexelius bespoke his Auditers, so let me bespeak our souls and selves. O ye Christian souls, ye souls whom Christ hath died for; let me beseech you for your own sake, for your salvations sake, for your Saviour's sake that ye would avoid this Shipwreck, the danger is certain, if we look not to it in time; as long as life lasts our amendment is not too late: do we fall by sin a thousand times, we may rise again by repentance a thousand times: We may begin any day, any hour to become better; But in death no man remembreth thee, O Lord, and who can give thee thanks in the Grave. As David did concerning Bathsheba's Child, so whilst life is in us we may weep, and humble ourselves by repentance, but in death all hope, all possibility of recovery is cut off. Whilst we have therefore time let us make use of it; I say, let us take it whilst we have it, for time will stay for no man: it is but a while that we have to work, one day's labour will make us happy forever, our Fathers have had their days and are gone, and now this is our day. I say, ours, if we lose it not; our day and portion of time which God hath allotted us to work● out our salvation in. Woe is us then if we work not even triplox vae, an woe, and an Eternal woe. We would fain depart and be in Heaven, O let us do our task whilst we are on earth. To conclude, let not the Sun set upon our wrath, upon our lust, upon our covetousness, upon our pride, and the like; alas, what a dismal: what a doleful night must we then expect: Let us not be wearv of well doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we saint not, let us now go on in our way towards Heaven weeping, and we shall return with sheaves in our bosom, let us so we in tears, and we shall reap in joy; let us be found so working now in this day of our life, that at the night of our death, when our Lord and Master Christ Jesus cometh, we may partake of that blessedness which is promised in the Gospel to that Servant, who when his Master cometh he sball find so doing, so shall we receive that e●ge boni servi, Well done ye good and faithful servants, enter you therefore into your Master's joy. Amen.   
Sit gloria Deo in saecula saeculorum.   

A farewell to the Reader.  
ANd now kind Reader, thanking you for your patience, that hath vouchsafed to peruse over this my unworthy labour, I desire you to understand.  

Each man's a little world, and my Book  
A Landscape is, this world to overlook:  
There may you ken the Cedar tops of pride,  
With thorny cares, and buskets on each side.  
The fruits of grace there also may you see  
Like Apples, just as they grow on the tree.  
And then again a River meets your eye  
Of tears for sin, and man's sad misery:  
Mountains of Zeal do here and there swell up,  
Even to the Clouds, but 'tis enough. I stop.   
Not presuming to borrow your patience any longer, or trouble you with many things, only I shall entreat you to take this unum necessar●um, this one necessary thing along with you, and well to observe it, that the way of the Lord may be thus tracked out in the soul of man. First the sight of Gods being seriously apprehended, strikes into us a reverend fear of his infinite greatness, this fear casteth us down before him into a condemning humility of our sinful wretchedness, this humility breedeth an admiring love of the abundance of his mercy towards us in his blessings, this love maketh us bold to have trust and reliance on him, as our help and defence; this trust affordeth patience to hold out and endure in all difficulties whatsoever, this patience at length crowneth us with hope of Heaven; not a foolish hope built on the sand, but a strong hope settled with discretion, a hope built on such ground which maketh not ashamed: not ashamed in life, not ashamed in death, not ashamed in the day of judgement: This hope, O Lord, grant unto you, to me, and to us all, and so preserve it in us, for thy mercy's sake, that it may end at last in the perfect fruition of thine eternal Kingdom, there that we may be together for ever, until which most happytime, dearly beloved, I heartily bid you farewell, in longum valete, farewell, even a long farewell.  
FINIS.   

Imprimatur, John Downham.  
17. Febr. 1645.   

ERRATA.  
REad most frequently thrust. page 10. line 1. the two first lines p. 17. are to be read as verses, for holy seam, r. holy stem. p. 18. l. 10. for his liberality, r. this liberality, p. 30. l. 3. for the least of which is, many of which are. p. 30 l. 27. for who giveth us, gives us, p. 31. l. 15. for mind, wind, p. 44. l. 16. for honour, humour. p. 62. l. 31. for shall he, shall we, p. 64. l. 13. for not as yet, as yet, p. 82. l. 18. for outward souls, untoward souls, p. 85. l. 13. for we can, can we, p. 104. l. 24. for are not a little offended, do not a little offend, 105. l. 26. and l. 29. for even, ever. for Devil the Devil. p. 112. l. 24. For the lesser faults I desire your favourable construction.