f. ^fi^-y ^. V-v ;d^£ir/«. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. University of California • Berkeley - iia&ffiVSakSj? ?isiSi»fe«is*a»S«*iS ^^^M^M^^^^^^M^ i; Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from Microsoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/essaysuponfiveseOObratrich ■ '^i-.,'"*' /Si ESSAYS UPON THE FIVE SENSES REVIVED BY ^netD g)upplement; WITH A PITHY ONE UPON DETRACTION. CONTINUED WITH SUNDRY CHRISTIAN RESOLVES, AND DIVINE CONTEMPLATIONS. BY RIC. BRATHWAYT, ESQUIRE. REPRINTED FROM THE EDITION OF 1625. LONDON: OF LONGMAN, HURST, REES. ORME, AND BROWN. PRINTED BY T. DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. 1815. A LEADING principle in selecting the pieces for Archaica has been to fix on such, as were in their own time popular, and have been for ages since buried in oblivion. It may be doubted if in past ages popularity depended on causes so extraneous to merit, or at least to the real taste of the multitude, as at present. The modern system of Reviews, together with all the intrigues of litera- ture which it facilitates, has usurped that judgment which the people formerly exercised more independently of critical censors. Readers of old perused a book for amusement or instruction; now they take it up for the purpose of shewing their wit in finding fault ; unless in the case of some favourite of the day, who is pri- vileged with temporary excellence; and whom the same fashion invests with superhuman power. The writings which have been generally received with pleasure, unprejudiced by strong artifices, or violently adventitious causes, must furnish the most lively proofs of the manners and intellectual character which cherished them. The philosopher therefore, who loves to speculate upon the varieties of the human character in different stages of society, will look with profound curiosity to these things, as materials of the opinions that are to enlighten his mind, when time has rendered them valuable by the mere mould with which it has covered them. yi PREFACE. It must strike every observant reader of the ponderous, but most useful, labours of Anthony Wood, that he has one set of brief and meagre phrases, which he applies to almost every author, (at least second-rate author,) of the people, whose memory, from the very nature and source of his fame, must soon be swallowed up by the new attractions of some successor, formed to the altered fashion of his day ; and catching the living manners as they rise. The biographer speaks in a kind of taunting triumph, first of the descent among the vulgar, and then of the extinction, of their fame, as if they never deserved the notice with which for a time they were crowned ; and found at last their proper level among the ignorant, to whom alone at first their powers were properly adapted ! In this tone he has spoken of Robert Greene, the favourite of the people in a former age; and in this tone he has spoken of Richard Brathwayte, a favourite, though not an equal favourite, of an age which followed. But honest Anthony, praise-worthy as is his unequalled collec- tion of literary notices, was a dry and narrow pedant, with no mental faculty but memory ; unenlightened by fancy, xmacquainted with the world, unread in the human heart! He knew not that it is much easier to compile books of learning ; much easier to excel in every part of artificial knowledge, than to touch the springs of the human bosom ; than to interest and lead the unsophisticated taste of those who do not wade through books for study and scho- larship, but for amusement ; and whose attention cannot be caught but by holding a mirror to their manners and their passions ! PREFACE. vii The following is Wood's account of the Author of the Essays on the Five Senses. Richard Brathwayte, second son of Thomas Brathwayte of Warcop, near Appleby, in Westmoreland, son and heir of Thomas Brathwayte of Barnside, son of Richard Brathwayte of Ambleside, in the barony of Kendal, became a commoner of Oriel College, Oxford, in 1604, aged 16. Continuing in that house at least three years, he addicted himself to poetry and Roman history, rather than to severer studies. Afterwards he removed to Cambridge, and then retiring into the north, his father bestowed on him the estate of Barnside, where he lived many years, being captain of a foot company of trained bands, a deputy-lieutenant in the county of Westmoreland, a justice of peace, and a noted wit and poet. " He wrote,"' says Wood, " and pubhshed several books in English, highly commended in the age wherein published, and only to be taken into the hands of novices." The titles (Wood adds) are these : 1. Golden Fleece, with other poems. London. 1611. 8vo. 2. Poet's Willow ; or Passionate Shepherd. Lond. I6l4. Svo 3. Prodigal's Tears. Lond. l6l4. Svo. 4. Scholar's Medley. I6l4. 4to. 5. Essays on Five Senses. Lond. 1620. Svo. ; 1635. 12mo. 6. Nature's Embassy, &c. Lond. 1621. Svo. 7. Time's Curtain Drawn : divers poems. Lond. 1621. Svo. S. The English Gentleman. 1630, 1633. 4to. : with enlarge- ments, 1641. fol. 9. English Gentlewoman. Lond. 1631, 1633. 4to. : with enlarge- ments, 1641. fol. viii PREFACE. 10. Discourseof Detraction, with Christian Resolves, &c. Lond. 1635. 12mo. 11. The Arcadian Princess. 1635. 8vo. 12. Survey of History, or Nursery for Gentry. 1638. 4to. Again 1652. 4to. being then, I think, says Wood, quite epitomized. 13. A Spiritual Spicery\ Lond. l638. 12mo. with a translation of " A Christian Dial," from Lanspergius, who died 1539- 14. Mercurius Britannicus, Trag. Com. 1641. 4to. 15. Time's Treasury, &c. Lond. 1655, 56. 4to. 16. Congratulatory Poem to K. Ch. II. on his Restoration. Lond. l660. two sheets, 4to. 17. Tragicomedia, cui in titulum inscribitur Regicidium, &c. Lond. 1665. 8vo^ " What other things,'' says Wood, " he hath written and pub- lished I know not, nor any thing else of him; only that in his latter days he removed, upon an employment, or rather second marriage, to Appleton, near Richmond, in Yorkshire, where dying May 4, 1673, he was buried in the parish church of Catterick, near that place, leaving then behind him the character of a well- bred gentleman and good neighbour." Ath. ii. 5l6, 517. This list by Wood is imperfect, as he was aware. I add the following : 1. "A Strappado for the Divell. Epigrams and Satyres al- luding to the time, with divers Measures of no less Delight. By Uktoo-vms to his friend * With due attention here reflect thine eyes." To this is added " An Elegy, entitukd Narcissus Change" sign. D 4., and another Elegy called " ^sofis affecting Youth" ends with sign. E2. Then follow " Sonnets or Madrigals with the Art of Poesie an- nexed thereunto, by the same author" This is dedicated " To the worshipful his approved Brother, Thomas Brathwayte, Esq." The Sonnets or Madrigals are seven ; each consisting of many six-lined stanzas- I perceive nothing of the Art of Poesie which the title announces. The Strappado for the Devill is dedicated " to the true cha- racter of a generous disposition, Sir Thomas Gainsford, Kt." and " to the much honoured and endeared Mecaenas (the expressiv*st character of a generous spirit) judicious approver of best-meriting poesie, guerdoner of arts, cherisher of virtues, and serious protector of all free-born studies, Mr. Thomas Posthumus Diggs." , The first poem is " to the true Discoverer of Secrets, Monsieur Bacchus." The next " to the Amorous Queen of Dehghts, Venus." The third " An heroic Emblem upon the Woman called Honora." The fourth " A Satire upon the general Sciolists or Poetasters of Britannie." In this last he thus speaks of George Wither and William Browne. " Yet rank I not (as some men do suppose) These worthless swains among the lays of those xiv PREFACE. Time-honour'd Shepherds, for they still shall be. As M ell they merit, honoured of me, Who bear a part, like honest faithful swains, On witty Wither's never-withering plains; For these, tho' seeming Shepherds, have deserv'd To have their names in lasting marble carv'd : Yet this I know, I may be bold to say, Thames ne'er had swans that sung more sweet than they. It's true, I may avow't, that ne'er was song Chanted in any age by swains so young. With more delight than was perform'd by them, Prettily shadow'd in a borrow'd name. And long may England's Thespian springs be known. By livt'lif Wither, and hy bonny Browne, Whilst solid Seldon, and their Cuddy too. Sing what our swains of old could never do." The fifth is " an Epigram, called The Civill Devill," with " the Author's Morall" to it. The " Occasion of the" next " Epigram proceeded from the restraint of the Author, who, in the justnes of his cause (like Zenophon's sparrow) tied for refuge to the worthily esteemed the Right Worshipfull Rich. Hutton, Sergeant at Law : to whose protection the retired Author commends his Epigram entitled His Catch." Seventh comes " An Epigram called The Honest Lawyer." These are followed by many others of a similar cast, which it would be tedious to particularize. *■. " Love's Labyrinth" is dedicated to Sir Richard Musgrave of Hartley, Bart, and his Lady, Frances, daughter of Philip Lord Wharton. . The Shepherd's Tales are dedicated to " his worthy and affec- tionate kinsman Richard Hutton, Esq. son and heir to the much honoured and sincere dispenser of justice Sir Richard Hutton, Sergeant at Law, and one of the Judges of the Common Pleas." PREFACE. • XV " To sit secure and in a safe repose, To view the cross occurrences of those Who are on sea ; or in a silent shade, To eye the state of such as are decay 'd ; Or near some silver rill, or beechy grove. To read how star-cross'd lovers lost their love, Is best of human blessings, and this best Is in your worthy self, dear coz, exprest ; Who, by your father's virtues and your own. Are truly lov'd, wherever you are known: In state secure, rich in a fruitful mate, And rich in all that may secure your state. Now in these days of your's, these halcyon days. Where you enjoy all joy, peruse these lays. That you, who liv'd to love, live where you love. May read what you ne'er felt, nor e'er did prove ; Poor swainlins crost, where they affected most. And crost in that which made them ever crost. Receive this poem. Sir, for, as I live. Had I ought better, I would better give." I think the reader of moral taste will admit tlmt these are very pleasing lines. Of the first Eclogue the following is " The Argument. " Technis complains And labours to display Th' unjust distaste Of Amarillida." The Shepherds are Technis, Dymnus, Dorycles, Corydon, Sapphus, Linus. The Eclogues are three. The third closes with these pretty lines : " Tech. Tell me. Love, what thou canst do? Dor. Triumph o'er a simple swain. Dym. Binding him to such a vow, Cor. As to make his grief thy gain. Sap. Do thy worst thou canst do now, liin. Thou hast shot at us in vain. All. For we are free, tho' we did once complain. xvi PHEFACE. Dor, Free we are, as is the air, Tech. Or the silver murmuring spring : Dt/m. Free from thought, or reach of care, Cor. Which do hapless lovers wring. Sap. Now we may with joy repair Iati. To our gladsome plains, and sing ; All. And laugh at love, and call 't an idle thing. Dym. Sport we may, and feed our sheep ; Dor. And our lambkins on this down ; Tech. Eat and drink, and soundly sleep. Cor. Since these storms are over blown ; Sap. Whilst afflicted wretches weep, Tiin. Tliat by love are overthrown : All. FoJ- now we laugh at follies we have knownv Cor. Here we rest upon these rocks, Dym. Round with shady ivy wreath'd ; Dor. Joying in our woolly flocks. Tech. On these mountains freely breath'd ; Sap. Where, though clad in russet frocks, Lin. Here we sport, where we are heath'd : All. Our only care to see our pastures freath'd. Sap. Thus we may retire in peace, Cor. And tho' low, yet more secure Dym. Than those men, which higher preesej Dor. Shrubs than cedars are more sure, Tech. And they live at far more ease, Lin. Finding for each care a cure : All. Their love as dear, and likely to endure. Lin. For wherein consists earth's bliss. Sap. But in having what is fit ? Cor, Which tho' greater men do miss, Dym. Homely swains oft light of it. Dor. For who's he, that living is, Tech, That in higher place doth sit. All. Whose sly ambition would not higher get ? PREFACE. xvii Tech. Let us then contented be Dor. In the portion we enjoy; Cor. And wliile we do others see Sap, Toss'd with gusts of all annoy; Dym. Let us say, this feel not we : Lin. Be our wenches kind or coy, All. We count their frowns and favours but a toy." Nature's Embassy is dedicated to Sir T. H. the Elder, Kt. (I presume Sir Thomas Hawkins of Nash Court near Faversham in Kent, the translator of Horace, or his father.) " When the natures of men," says he, " are clear perverted, then it is high time for the Satirist to pen something which may divert them from their im- piety, and direct them in the course and progress of virtue." " The distinct subjects of every Satire contained in either Section, with an equal survey or display of all such poems as are couched or compiled within this Book, are these : 1. Degeneration, personated in Nature. 2. Pleasure, in Pandora. 3. Ambition, in the Giants. 4. Vain-glory, in Croesus. 5. Cruelty, in Astyages. 6. Adultery, in Clytemnestra. 7- Incest, in Tereus. 8. Blasphemy, in Caligula. 9- Beggary, in Hippias. 10. Misery, in Taurus. 11. Hypocrisy, in Claudius. 12. Excess, in Philoxenus; with three Funeral Epicedes, or Elegiac Sestiads." " The second section contains, 1. Sloth, in Elpenor. 2. Cor- ruption, in Cornelia. 3. Atheism, in Lucian. 4. Singularity, in Stesichorus. 5. Dotage, in Pigmalion. 6. Partiality, in Pythias. 7. Ingratitude, in Periander. 8. Flattery, in Terpnus. 9. Epi- curism, in Epicurus. 10. Bribery, in Diagoras. 11. Invention, in Triptolemus. 12. Disdain, in Melonomus. 13. Idolatry, in xviii PREFACE. Protagoras. 14. Tyranny, in Eurysteus. 15. Security, in Alci- biades. 16. Revenge, in Perillus. 17. Mortality, in Agathocles. 18. In Nasonem Juridicum; Mythologia. Two short modern Satires." . Annexed to these : " His Pastoralls are here continued, with three other Tales ; having relation to a former part, as yet observed and divided into certain Pastorall Eglogues shadowing much delight under a rurall subject." " Omphale ; or the Inconstant Shepheardesse," which folloAvs, is dedicated to " the accomplished Lady P. W. wife to Sir T. W. Kt. and daughter to the much honoured Sir R. C." At the end of this is the ensuing poem, * . . . " Describing the levitee of a Woman : reserving all generous respect to the vertuously affected of that sex. " First, I fear not to offend A very thing of nothing ; Yet whom thus far I commend, She's lighter than her cloathing : Nay, from the foot unto the crown, Her very fan will weigh her down : And mark how all things with her sex agree. For all her virtues are as light as she. She chats and chants but air, A windy virtue for the ear : Tis lighter far than care, And yet her songs do burdens bear. She dances : that's but moving. No heavy virtue here she changes ; And as her heart in loving, So her feet inconstant ranges. PREFACE. xix She softly leans on strings, She strikes the trembling lute, and quavers : These are no weighty things ; Her strokes are light : so are her favours. Those are her virtues, fitting to her kind, No sooner shewn, but they turn'd all to wind. Xheu to you, O sex of feathers, On whose brow sit all the weathers, I send my passion weav'd in rhymes, , To weigh down these light empty times." Last come : " His Odes, or Philomers Tears. " Odes in strains of sorrow tell Fate and fall of eyevy fowl; Mounting Merlin, Philomel, Lagging Lapwing, Swallow, Owl, Whence you may observe, how state Rais'd by pride, is raz'd by hate. London. Printed for Richd. Whitaker, 1621." These are dedicated " to the generous, ingenious, and judicious Philalethist, Thomas Ogle, Esq." The first Ode is entitled " The Traveller dilating upon the sundry changes of human affairs, most fluctuent when appearing most constant." It begins thus : " Tell me, Man, what creature may Promise him such safe repose, As secure from hate of foes. He may thus much truly say. Nought I have I fear to lose. No mischance can me dismay ; Tell me, pray thee, 'f thou can. If the world have such a man." XX PREFACE. Then follows Ode II. " The Nightingale. " Jug, Jug; fair fall tlie Nightingale, Whose tender breast Chants out her merry madrigal, With hawthorn prest. T'eu, T'eu, thus sings she even by even, And represents the melody of heaven : T'is, T'is, I am not as I wish. Rape-defiled Philomel In her sad mischance Tells what she is forc'd to tell, While the Satires dance : Unhappy I, quoth she, unhappy I, That am betray'd by Tereus' treachery ; T'is, Tis, I am not as I wish. Chaste-unchaste, deflowered, yet Spotless in heart. Lust was all that He could get For all his art : For I ne'er attention lent To his suit, nor gave consent : Tis, T'is, I am not as I wish. Thus hath faithless Tereus made Heartless Philomel Moan her in her forlorn shade. Where griefs I feel ; Grief that wounds me to the heart, Which, though gone, hath left her smart ; Tis, T'is, I am not as I wish." PREFACE. • xxi Ode 3, is The Lapwing. Ode 4, The Owl. Ode 5, The Merlin. Ode 6, r^ie Swallow. Ode 7, and last, TAe Fall of the Leaf. The reader Avill probably be inclined to admit, from the speci- mens here given, that Brathwayte was not altogether deficient in poetical genius. It is, however, the strange tendency to fall into a colloquial and vulgar allusion and expression, so as to intermix with passages of elegance and beauty the doggrel of a mean mind, which betrays the efforts of inferior powers in this rare art. Thus Brathwayte, after beginning the Ode on The Fall of the Leaf with two stanzas of description in a just style, introduces passages of the following cast : " No : nor the Lady in her coach, But is muffd when storms approach; Nor the crazy citizen, But is furr'd up to the chin ; Oyster-callet, sly Upholster, Hooking Huckster, merry Maltster, Cutting Haxter, courting Roister, Cunning Shark, nor sharking Foister," &c. &c. Pure description of natural scenery had not yet, it is true, begun to fill whole poems; though examples of the manner. of executing this difficult department of poetry had already been given by Sackville, Spenser, Shakespeare, Phineas Fletcher, and even by George Wither and William Browne. When Milton, a few years afterwards, opened to the world the profusions of a fancy. xxii PREFACE. into which all the beauties of creation, in their most glowing hues, had been poured, it was not mereljin the vivid charms of particular passages, but in the uniformly brilliant tissue of the whole, that he utterly eclipsed all his cotemporaries and prede- cessors, and burst upon mankind with strains of an higher order of intellect ! When we contemplate these forgotten poets with a desire to discover their merits, we must rigidly lay aside any comparison with an author so extraordinarily endowed as Milton. It will be sufficient to look at writers of a common cast, whose works have survived the wreck of time. But if we judge from the choice made by the booksellers, and confirmed by Dr. Johnson, it would seem, that, forty years ago at least, no English poet still continued in the demand of the people, earlier than Milton and Cowley. A more enlarged taste for the writings of our ancestors has since revived. Even at that time, indeed. Bell ventured to reprint Chaucer and Spenser; and Anderson and Chalmers have since given many comparatively obscure poets of those days. It is rather as a miscellaneous writer, than for his poetical merit, that we must place the claims of Brathwayte to revived notice. His Essays, here reprinted, are ingenious, and sometimes almost eloquent, though too often full of quaintness and conceit, the great fault of his age. They appear to me also to have another fault : they seem to be Avritten in a factitious temperament of mind and feeling, which too many writers, and too many readers, very erroneously suppose to be the warmth of genius. It requires no artificial enthusiasm to relish the touches which a pure and un- PREFACE. xxiii prompted fancy executes. There is a reflector in the bosom of mankind always ready to receive and give them back. But in prose Brath wa yte shews himself a more than ordinary master of a copious and pohshed phraseology ; and abounds as well in sentiment, as in the stores of knowledge collected by various and extensive reading. London, April 22, 1815. ESSAYS UPON THE FIVE SENSES : REVIVED BY 9lneVD g»upplemettt; A PITHY ONE UPON DETRACTION. CONTINUED WITH SUNDRY CHRISTIAN RESOLVES, AND DIVINE CONTEMPLATIONS, FULL OF PASSION AND DEVOTION; ^utpo^elg compogel) for ti)t jealouslg Dt$powO. BY RIC. BRATHWAYT, ESQUIRE. THE SECOND EDITION, REVTSED AND ENLARGED BY THE AUTHOR. Mallem me esse quam vivere mortuum. LONDON : PRINTED BY ANKE GRIFFIN. 1625. r/xn , .y.'i {. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS, LORD COVENTRY, BARON OF AILSBOROUGH, AND LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL OF ENGLAND, tec. ALL CORRESPONSIVE SUCCESS IN HIS IRREPROVABLE PROGRESS OF JUSTICE. fONG it is, mine honourable Lord, since I first commenced a suit against these ^ dangerous in- truders, while they, under pretence of a defensive war, made deluded wordlings believe that I was a litigious Plaintiff, and disturbed their posses- sion without just ground. Whence I made my cause known in the High Court of Requests, where I made it appear how injuriously they had dealt with me, so as, upon the very opening of the bill, with the impertinences of their answer, their cause appeared so foul, as being without hope to prevail, it was moved by a powerful orator* in their behalf, that reference might be granted to any two or three competible men, indifferently chosen, either in the city, court, or country, to hear and determine all differences depending betwixt us. But I did not wholly incline to this motion ; for they were so generally allied, ' The Five Senses. 2 xhe flesh. IV and by this alliance so strongly friended, as I much feared no good end in my particular would be composed ; seeing that some, who otherwise might have been indifferently nominated, were either overawed and durst not, or partially affected and would not, or basely corrupted and in hope of reward could not, conclude in award Avhat the equity and merit of my cause required. A new petition, therefore, to the Great Master of Requests^ I preferred; my suit I revived ; during which time I enjoyed more peace than all my time before I had tasted. But upon hope of submission, and friends' mediation, admitting some intermission, they pressed me with more indignities than before ; so as, impatient of further delay, not holding it fit for example-sake to bear such insolencies from people of mine own family, servants of my meniey, 1 caused ■them to be -served as they deserved, being censured to wear papers, rwhich they formerly did, and are now to do again, bearing their (Crimes so legibly on their breasts as the whole Hall may see them; and seeing, shun them. And here first they present themselves at your bar, to publish the quality of their offence to the whole world, with the wrongs they have done in the Avorld, and to me especially and my little world. ',;>. .Now, he appeals to your Honour's maturest judgment, whether in conscience and equity he could with honour bear these affronts without a demeriting censure ; who, won with the general voice and applause of your goodness, will joy much in retrieving the deserving title of Your devoted servant, . RI. BRATHWAIT. ' Prayer the best Warden of the Cinque Ports. A TABLE OR SUMMARY, ANALYSING UPON THE SUBSTANCE OF EVERY SUBJECT CONTAINED IN THIS BOOK. In these Essays upon the Five Senses, tlie First directs the Eye how it is to be disposed, lest, by straying, it lose Him to whom it shonld be erected ; expressing how, even by that elevating muscle by which it is distinguished from the optic in all other creatures, it is taught to be on that object only fixed, where it may be wholly and solely satisfied. The Second shews, how that edifying sense of the Ear is to be bestowed ; not to be delighted nor deluded with the light airs of mundane vanity, but with the melodious accents (ever breathing and sweetly beating on the strings of the heart) of the soul-ravishing hopes of eternity. The Third treats of that individual associate of our life, the Touch ; wherein he com- mends humane compassion, with a serious commemoration of His passion whose sorrows were our solace, whose anguish healed our affiiction. The Fourth, out of a perfect view of the occasion of our first fall, describes the too dear Taste of an apple. He would have it so disposed that it might distaste the world, by conceiving how vain it is ; and conceive a fuller relish in the apprehension of God's mercy, by tasting how sweet he is. In the Fifth and last he desires to breathe nothing but the savour of his Saviour'^ ointments, the Smell whereof halh filled the earth. In a noble and Christian disrespect to the Smell of the worldly gain, he accounts no gain comparable to that of godliness, no odour so fragrant as the sweet perfume of an undefiled conscience. In his Continuation of these Essays he begins with the Sense of Sin, discovering the foulness of it to the outward sense, the odiousness of it to a clear-sighted soul. In the Second he aggravates the Sense of Sorrow, the misery of this life in respect of Sin, the infelicity of it in her remotion from Sion. VI In the Third he takes a survey of Human Vanity; liow nothing is a more contemptible tiling than man, unless he erect his thoughts above the condition of man. In the Fourth he recommends to us a Sense of others Misery ; how compassion is a sweet companion, ever cheering herself in sharing and partaking of another's burden. In the Last Essay of that Tractate he addresseth his subject to the contemplation of Future Glory ; wherein he slieweth how nothing more aliens man's mind from affecting his native country, than conceiving earth's pilgrimage to be a permanent city. Having couched and closed these, he composeth one of Detraction, grounded upon some particular reason : he defines the nature of it, the source from which it was derived, what dispositions most affected to it, with a free appeal to the world, by way of vindicating his labours from it. Next follow the Resolves, wherein, as one retiring from the brackish gusts of this world, and gathering his vessels in the haven, he proposeth rules or directions to a good life. Fare well we cannot after this world, unless before our passage hence we cheerfully bid farewel unto the world. Good purposes, holy resolves, are ever to be accompanied m ith devout prayers and pious tears. These distinct tracts, thus ranked and disposed, are, with much elegancy, sealed with the Heavenly Exercise of all the Five Senses, couched in a divine poem. The Author's opinion of Marriage, delivered in a satisfying character to his friend : in it he discovers the incomparable comforts arising from a good woman, with the misery man suffers in her contrary. He disapproves the Carthaginian Arminius, and in him all Timonists who oppose marriage. The shallowest and most ungenerous conceits are ever inveighing against woman. The reason of their invection, and insufficiency of their reason. 'With a ceremonious and religious approvement of this sacred rite, he concludes his opinion. In his Contemplations of Panarete (whose memory he continues in his Anniversaries) he distinguisheth them into these three subjects : 1. The Soul's Sole-Love. < 2. The wounded Heart. 3. The New Dress. In the first, his Panarete (whom he there personates) invokes and invites her Soul's Sole-Love to receive her into the sweet arms of his mercy, because without his presence ^he finds nothing but misery. THESES; OR, GENERAL RULES DRAWN BY ART FROM THE LINE OF NATURE, TRIED BY THE TOUCHSTONE OF INFALLIBLE EXPERIENCE, AND APPLIED AS OBSERVANCES TO THESE PRESENT TIMES ; HAVING REFERENCE TO THE FIVE SENSES, (PROPER SUBJECTS) TO WHICH THEY ARE RESTRAINED. ESSAY I.— OF SEEING. ptHOUGH the eye of my body allude to the eye of my soul, yet is the eye of my soul darkened by the eye of my body ; where sense inclines to concupiscence, affection to affectation : and that part (the curious model of the eye) which ought of itself to be a directress to all other senses, becomes the principal organ of error to the affections- There is a motive of thankfulness in the eye of man, more than in the eye of any other creature ; a muscle which lifteth the eye upward, whereas others be more depressed, bending downAvard : Why should man then fix the eye of his delight on the creature,: having his eye made to look up to his Creator.? The eye of our body is hke the orb of the world; it moveth in the head as the 8 sun in the firmament : take away the sun and there is darkness ; by the deprivation of the eye there ensueth bhndness. Conceits by nature ripest are ever wanderingest ; and the eye, of all parts most eminent, is to objects of all kinds most extended : though I gaze till mine eye be dazzled, yet is the desire of mine eye never sjatisfied : as the eye of all other senses is most needful, so of all others it is most hurtful ; it finds an object of affection pretending love, when her aim is clean contrary, perverted by lust. There is no passage more easy for the entry of vice, than by the crany of the eye; there she hath first acceptance, facilest entrance, and assuredest continuance. She hath first acceptance, because by the eye first entertained ; facilest entrance, because of all others easiest to be induced : and assuredest continuance, because once per- suaded, not to be by any motive afterwards restrained. There is nothing so little that hath such diversity of operations attending it, being moved by the object that it looks upon, to love or hate. Passions of the mind receive their greatest impression by the eye of the body, and soonest are they allayed when the eye is most temperate. If the eye chance to be restrained, and want an object outwardly, it makes itself a mirror represented inwardly ; and some- times. Narcissus-like, doats, for want of a substance, on an ima- ginary shadow : it is jealous, and that is the cause it is ever prying into others' secrets. He is a Avise man that carries his eyes in his head, making them his sentinels ; but he is foolish that sends them out like spies, to betray his soul to the objects of vanity. 1 have heard some wish, that some space before their death they might be deprived of their sight ; inferring, that the motions of the soul were aptest for inward contemplation, when the eye of the body was least conversant in outward delectations. It is true; but why should the principallest motive and organ of thanksgiving be an occasion to the mind of erring ? I have eyes to direct me, by objects outwardly moving, to the affections of the soul inwardly working. It is against reason that the greater liglit should be extinguished by the lesser ; the eye of the soul by the eye of the body. A candle burns the darkest when the sun-beams shine out the brightest : so should the eye of the body subject her light to the soul's beauty ; that as the sun cheers and renews by his mild aspect, clears and purifies by his more piercing reflex, so the eye of the soul might cheer the body if dejected, renew her if decayed, and purify her malevolent affections if corrupted. Lastly, as the eye is the body's guide, it should not be made a blind guide; it should lead us, and not in our strayings leave us : as it chalks us out our way here upon earth, so it should cheer us in our convoy unto heaven. ESSAY II.— OF HEARING. Hearing is the organ of understanding; by it we conceive, by the memory we conserve, and by our judgment we revolve. As many rivers have their confluence by small streams, so knowledge her essence by the accent of the ear. As our ear can best judge of sounds, so hath it distinct power to sound into the centre of the heart. It is open to receive, ministering matter sufficient for the mind to digest : some things it relisheth pleasantly, apprehending them with a kind of enforced delight ; some things it distastes, and those it either egesteth as frivolous, or as a subject of merriment merely ridiculous. In affairs conferring delight, the voluptuous man hath an excellent ear ; in matters of profit, the worldly-minded man is attentive; and in state deportments, the politician is reten- tive. The ear is best delighted when any thing is treated on which the mind fancieth ; and it is as soon cloyed when the mind is not satisfied with the subject whereof it treateth. As a salve faithfully 10 applied, opportunately ministered, and successively continued, affords comfort to the patient, so good instructions delivei'ed by the mouth, received by the ear, and applied to the heart, will in time prove motives to the most impenitent. They say the object of the ear, to wit, melody, is the sovereignest preservative against melancholy ; which opinion is true, if grounded on the melody of the heart : for externally sounding accents, though they allay the passion for an instant, the note leaves such an impression as the succeeding discontent takes away the mirth that was conceived for the present. The ear is an edifying sense, conveying the fruit of either moral or divine discourse to the imagination, and conferring with judgment, whether that which it hath heard seem to deserve approbation. A judicious and impartial ear observes not so much who speaks, as what is spoken ; it admires not the external habit with the garish vulgar, but the force of reasons with what likeli- hood produced. If Herod speak, having a garment glittering like the sun, the light-headed multitude will reverence Herod, and make him a deity ; not so much for his speech, for that is common, as for his apparel, to them an especial motive of admiration. Such as these (the common sort, I mean) have their ears in their eyes ; what- soever they hear spoken, if they approve not of the person, it skills not; such a near affinity have the ear and the eye in the vulgar. A discreet ear seasons the understanding, marshals the rest of the senses wandering, renews the mind, preparing her to all difficulties ; cheers the affections, fortifying them against all oppositions. Those be the best forts, and impregnablest, whose seats, most opposed to danger, stand in resistance against all hostile incursions, bravely bearing themselves with honour in the imminency of danger. Such be the ears that are planted in the high-road-street, and exposed to a world of incursions : scandal, than which nothing more swift, nothing more frequent, shoots arrows, detracting by aspersion from the excellentest model of perfection ; yet a resolved ear (like 11 another Antomedon) tempers the heat of her passion, by recourse had to herself and the sincerity of her own reputation. There is no discord so harsh to a good ear, as the discord of the affections, when thej mutiny one against another ; for she hears how a king- dom divided cannot stand. I hear many things I would not hear, yet being enforced to hear them, I mean to make this use of them, that hearing what moveth detestation to me in another, I may be cautioned not to represent that to another in myself. As the martin will not build but in fair houses, so a good ear will not entertain any thing with an approved judgment but what is fair in itself, and confers an equal benefit unto others. As of all virtues none more eminent than justice, so no sense of all others more accommodate than hearing, unto justice. It is an excellent com- mendation Avhich the historian giveth to that princely monarchy and father to the world's sole monarch, Philip of Macedon, that after hearing of the plaintiff, he would ever keep one ear open for the defendant ; a prerogative princely, and worthy the management of her affairs that is princess of all virtues. But as the best things perverted prove the worst, so fares it in attention : many have ears, who, Midas-like, are depressed to earth's objects ; erect them how can they, having their attention fixed on the basest of subjects ? With how prepared an ear come these to the prediction of a scarce summer? How apt these be to hear report of a young scape-thrift, ready to unstrip himself of a fair inheritance upon any terms ? How unworthy tidings these be for so divine an herald ? The ear is one of the activest and laboriousest faculties of the soul : pity then it is, that the soul should be by her entangled, or by her means to such base subjects enthralled, being for the succour of the soul principally ordained. I have thought long time with myself, how I should employ this sense best for my soul's advantage ; wherein I took a survey of all those subjects to which this peculiar sense of hearing was especiallest extended, and I found the ear much de- 12 lighted with music ; but finding it but an aery accent, breathed and expired in one instant, 1 thought there was no abiding for my attentive sense, fitter to be employed in a delight more permanent. Presently I made recourse to the acts of princes, and gave my ear to the discourse of fore-past exploits ; subjects I found well deserv-» ing my attention, moving me to imitation, and eyeing my own weakness with their puissance, forcing me to admiration. But retiring to myself with this expostulatory discourse : AVhere be those eminent and memorable heroes whose acts I have heard recounted .? Where those victorious princes whose names yet remain to posterity recorded ? and hearing no other answer save that they once were, and now are not, I Avaned my ear from such a subject as only had power to give unto the memorable a name, but no essential being. From hence, traversing my ground, I descended (a descent I may term it, being a study of less height, though of more profit) to the discourse of the laws, where I found many things, in their own nature worthily approved, by the prescription of time and prescription of conscience to be strangely depraved. Here, methought, I saw the poet's Arachne spinning webs of so different a warp, that great flies might easily break out, while little ones suffered ; strange unctions, able to cast justice on an Euphuus slumber; motions made to move commotions twixt party and party* Here was no employment for my sense, desiring rather a direction in her way to eternity, than to have partial-guilt corruption her best solicitor in this vale of misery. Whilst I was thus roving, seeking for a pilot to give free and safe waftage to my unharboured sense, at last, after many tempestuous occurrences, my afflicted mind's perturbations, I fixed anchor; and, by the direction of reason, got what I sought for, a quiet harbour. And where may I limit, or how confine the straying circle of many perplexed and confused thoughts wherewith I am surprized, within so blest a period ? Not by the appetite, for that slaves the best of man to unworthiest ad ends; nor by the obedience of my own proper will, for that I found perverted by aiming at indirect objects; nor by ambition, which always (as Pindarus defined her) was accompanied with danger in assaying, impatience in prosecuting, and an opposition of expectance in achieving ; not by the usurer's calendar, for there is avarice, that decrepid infirmity of old age haling, many a poor prodigal wittall cursing, and an inward corrosive, worse than any outward affliction, tormenting ; nor by the courtier's fawning, where times be observed, fashions imitated, good clothes admired, and the only generous quality is to be fantastical-idle ; nor by the country farmer's engrossing, where many a poor orphan's tear accusing, many a desolate widow's complaint contesting, and the hunger- starved soul witnessing, make him of all others most wretched, in that his Nabal-securit}' makes him obdurate. These are not guides to lead my directing sense to her harbour ; she is not for earth, her music is mixed Avith too many discords. The world's harmony to a good christian ear may be compared to that of Arcabius the trumpeter, who had more given him to cease than to sound ; so harsh is the sound of this world in the ear of a divinely affected soul. A good ear will not say, as the powerful auditor, or in- corrigible sinner, saith to his preacher : Speak to us pleasing things, speak to us pleasing things ; for these must have Orpheus' melody, whom the Cyconian women tore in pieces, because with his music he corrupted and effeminated their men. These are not like those devils whereof Guido reporteth, that cannot abide music ; these are contrary devils, for they delight in nothing but the music of flattery. These objects are not made to harbour me ; my pitch is higher, my thoughts more unbounded, my ear more erectexl, and the con- sideration of mine own imbecility more apparent : it is heaven she aims at, the angels with which she would consort, and that melody of the superior powers which 3deldeth to her ear the absolutest concord ; she shall sound forth, therefore, (turning her voice by her 14 ear) the unwortliiness of earth's afi'ections, compared to that excel- lency of real delights planted above. First shall be that delight which deprived the first angel of his eternal delight, to wit, pride, whereby we become like the cinnamon tree, whose rind is better than all the body. Hence is it we desire to reform the work- manship of God, becoming polishers of nature, garnishers of cor- ruption, and proud of our shame. And how should we think that God will respect us, who have disfigured his own similitude, and so disguised ourselves as he can hardly know us ? There is no work- man that regardeth or esteemeth his own workmanship after it is translated and transposed by others ; and we, becoming creatures of our own making, shadowing native modesty with a dissembling blush, seem to translate that amiable form and proportion which was given us by our Creator, to an ugly and promiscuous habit, extracted, like Flaccus' croAV, from the fantastic invention of all countries. The ancient law observed, that such as had a yellow lock upon their leprous parts, were not to consort with other people: though we want that yellow lock, the apparent token of leprosy, yet we have a yellow band, and other running sores of vanity. Far be this vice from the mansion of my soul, lest her speedy surprisal deprive me of all; and ever may the consideration of my own weakness restrain me from the least conceit of aspiring arrogance. Next of pleasure shall be sensual delights, the vain obeying of our own affections, the soul's bane, the body's ulcer, and the devil's watch-bell. We are rocked asleep, and sit dandled on the knee of an impudent strumpet: as Babel's subversion proceeded from the height of her sin, so this link of impiety, by which death and ruin is haled along to us, promiseth subversion to the possessor; the best reward her serpentine embraces, adulterate affections, and obsequi- ous dehghts, can propose to her attendants. Shall ray ear be entangled with her soul's stain, or prostitute her attention to so odious a subject.'* Shall my sense of direction tend to my subversion. 15 or the body's instructress (like a blind guide), throw her headlong to confusion? No, I will not engage so excellent an hostage as my soul, for the bitter-sweet of a repenting pleasure. Reason tells me that pleasure merits only that title when it is relished with virtue, nor can sensuality satiate the dehght of the intellectual part when it is confined to immerited respects. This I will make my position in the bent of my resolution ; I mean only so far to obey my delights as the after hope of my soul may not be abridged, the future joy in the expectance of sovereign happiness impaired : but that my sense to reason subjected, may, in the sweet concord of an inward contemplation, drawn from her Creator, apprehend an exceeding pleasure to have done any thing pleasing to her Maker. Can I find in rich coffers (the miser's idols) any true object to plant this excellent organ .'' O ! no ; the corruption of coin is the genera- tion of an usurer, or a lousy beggar. For the first, I love my soul too well for so mean and base a traffic to hazard a gem so incom- parable ; heaven is the tabernacle I desire to dwell in, but so far is that mansion from the conceit of our English Jew, or oppressing usurer, as he chooseth rather to live in the tents of Kedar, with the depraved issue of Dathan, than by having Lazarus' scrip, to be carried after to Abraham's bosom. Rightly was his experience grounded Avho said, that the multitude of physicians and lawyers are the signs of a distempered state, but the number of usurers and their factors is the argument of a fatal disease reigning. For the second, to wit, beggary, I know not what to think on't; it is a beneficial trade Avhere impudence marshals it, but a shamefaced beggar (saith Homer) never yet could live on his profession. I could wish a more temperate harbour, neither too rich, lest the fulness of my estate make me insolent, nor too poor, lest the consideration of my Avant force me to some course exorbitant. Pauperis est (saith the poet) numerare pecus; but boni est (saith David) numerare dies; it shall be my arithmetic, my golden number. But stay, let me 16 reduce my thoughts, and in the consideration of my distempered and indisposed affections, propound to myself a form which I may observe, a hue by which I may direct my course, and a centre where I may end my distance ; then a caveat which may restrain me, an observance to conduct me, and a reason drawn from an inconvenience to divert me. And thus I expostulate ; why would I not be rich? Avhy no extortioner? why no oppressor? why no biting usurer ? Rich I would not be, lest I should admire my own fortunes, and after admiration fall to idolatrize ; and then where should I plant my future expectance? It is hard for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, and more difficult for a gold-adoring Mammonist to enter heaven. Extort I would not, for I know there be vials of wrath ready to be poured down on the extortioner ; and though the wicked for a while flourish like the green bay tree, time will come when his place is not to be found. Oppress I can- not, when I hear the orphan's tear, the widow's curse, the poor man's prayer, the hunger-starved soul ; for I know the orphan's tears will be bottled, the widow's curse effected, the poor man's prayer received, and the hunger-starved soul revenged. Use my money, but usure it I will not; ten at hundred shall not deprive me of ten hundred times more glory, to purchase here a little trea- sure subject to corruption, and transitory. Quod fienerari est hominem occidere, to play usurer is to play the murderer, saith the orator Cicero, which may appear (if ever) even in the ruins of this time, where hospitality, which was the glory of England, is vanished, and serving men, who, by reason of their education and number, were the strength of the isle, to suppress the barbarous tumults of all turbulent heads, are turned to a few guarded pages, coloured Uke so many butterflies. Our ancestors established by their laws, that the thief should be censured to make restitution two-fold, but the usurer four-fold ; so odious was this trade to ancient times, when only the hght of nature shone upon them. Yea, an usurer. 17 by an old canon, was denied Christian burial ; and more profane than allowed was his opinion, who concluded in his own behalf that no profession merited more exemption than usury : his reason was, it was impartial, and respected no degrees. His conclusion was true, but his inference erroneous ; for it taketh fast hold of cities, A^illages, ports, and obscure hamlets, and lays unhallowed fists on persons of all quality, even from the peer to the poor oyster-crying wife. Hence must I draw my caution, not to touch pitch, lest I be defiled : their conversation is infectious, their con- science a very gulf or charnel-house, to swallow and consume, devour and exhaust all at once : the Indian anthropophagi are not half so ravenous. I will walk in a more modest path, both to cheer my affections with a satisfying desire of competence, and to bless myself from such canker-worms as prune the virtuous blossoms of others, to feed a posterity of prodigal rake-hells ; my ear must be tuned to another note, that my edifying sense may discharge her peculiar office, not to affect novelties, or chuse varieties, but to dedicate her inward operation to the mind's comfort ; (to wit) the melody of heaven. ESSAY III.— OF TOUCHING. This faculty of all others is most individuate ; it inheres in the subsistence of man, and cannot be separated or taken away without the detriment, or utter decay, rather, of the subject wherein it is : it may therefore be called the living sense; though in divers diseases and occurrences also oft-times befalling, the subject wherein it is may be deprived of it, as we read of Athenagoras of Argus, Avho never felt any pain when stung by a scorpion. This sense hath a certain affinity with the essence of man, and therefore should be employed in such things as confer to the glory of that essence : D 18 many abuse it, who, belulled with the lethargy of sin and security, never turn their eye to a serious contemplation of the supreme glory, or a consideration of their own frailty ; they know not how God^s deferring is the more to infer, how hell's torments were no torments, if invention might conceit them. These are they that are deprived of the spiritual use of this sense, crying, with the sluggard, " Yet a little, and yet a little,'^ turning in their bed like a door on her hinges ; their delay, like a pulley, draweth on them vengeance; like a mighty engine, raseth down the fortress of their soul ; and like a consuming Avind, or violent tempest, breaketh down that fair cedar which was planted for the heavenly Lebanon. AVhen neither the white flag nor the red, which Tamerlane advanced at the siege of any city, would be accepted of, the black flag was set up, which signified there was no mercy to be looked for. It is strange that man, endowed with reason, the ornament of the mind, should become so blinded with a terrestrial rest (which indeed is no rest, but a torment) as to forget his own composition, being made of no better temper than clay, and as a vessel in the hand of the potter ! Far more wisely did Agathocles, that prince of Sicily, who commanded his image to be made with the head, arms, and body of brass, but the legs of earth, to intimate of how Aveak and infirm a ground his imperial person subsisted. Weak, indeed, and of as weak accomphshment ; for what can man do Avherein he may glory .? or attribute the least of so exquisite a work to his cunning ? If v/e glory in any thing, it is our shame, which is no glory, but a re- proach; for Avho, but such as have a forehead glazed Avith impudency, will triumph in their OAvn defects, or boast of their OAvn imperfec- tions ?■ Doth the peacock glory in his foul feet ? Doth he not hang doAvn the tail Avhen he looks upon them.^ Doth the buck, having befilthed himself Avith the female, lift up his horns and Avalk proudly to the laAvns.'' O! no; he so hateth himself, by reason of the stench of his commixture, that, all drooping and languishing, into some 19 solitary ditch he withdraws himself and takes soil, and batheth till such time as there fall a great shower of rain, when, being throughly washed and cleansed, he posteth back to his food. If such apprehension of shame appear in brute beasts, what should his be that is made lord and governor of all beasts ? Is this living sense, this vital faculty, this individuate property, made a rub in our way to immortality ? Doth that by which Ave live cut from us all means of living hereafter ? miserable then is our sense, when without all sense of sin we become deprived of the sense of glory. This sense of touch may be reduced to those three objects, wherein our understanding is summarily employed, the intelligible, the irascible, and the concupiscible. The intelligible, whereby we ap- prehend the end of our creation, whereby we judge of the causes and events, touching, with the apprehensive hand of judgment, what may concern us, and the state wherein we are interested.- The irascible, when stirred up with ire or indignation, we prosecute revenge, not suffering the least disgrace without an intended re- quital. The concupiscible, when in an ambitious desire of honour or estate, or lustful satisfaction of our own illimited affections, we covet this or that, ardent in pursuing and least contented Avhen obtaining that we have pursued. The understanding, if rightly seated, like a wise pilot steers the ship, saves her from splitting, managing all things with a provident respect had of what may come after. No Syren can tempt this wise and subtile Ulysses : though the sea look never so fair, this wise and temperate mariner is suspicious of it, knowing where the sea looks the whitest, oft- times the perilloust rocks and inevitablest shelfs are seated. She sinks, plumbs, and tries the shoals, whether apt for navigation or no. In brief, she doth nought without serious premeditation, and fore- thinks of the mean ere she attain the end. She affects not curiosity, either in words, habit, or manners, yet virtuously curious how to express herself truly honourable in all deportments without asper- ^0 sion of scandal. She will not disguise herself in an unhonest cover, but affecting plainness, teacheth the same rule and precept to her followers, which Jesus, the son of Siracli, taught: ne accipias faciem adversus facieni tuam: not to be double-faced, but with sin- cere plainness, such as thou art, such do thou seem. A rule far more accommodate to the course of virtue, and more directly leading to the seat of glory, than all the policies which ever Machiavel yet invented, or the dissembling appearances of all observing timists. Though Numa Pompilius in Rome kept the people in awe, and subjected them to what tyrannous laws he pleased, under pretence of conference with Egeria; Minos in Athens, under colour he was inspired in a certain hollow cave by Jupiter ; and Pallas, in a counterfeit habit, deceived Claudius in the adoption of Nero. This divine essence of the soul (the under- ■standing part) will assume no other form than as she is, knowing her perfection cannot be made more accomplished by any borrowed colours. She understands herself to be composed of a more divine element, than to subject her will to unworthy ends ; for she knows, that as the sense is conversant in outward things, she is seated in inward things, not directed by the eye of the body, which is many times deceived, but by the eye of the soul, which always aimeth at one certain scope, to wit, immortality. She considereth the ends Avhich mortality aims at ; honour, ample territories, great pos- sessions, popular respect, and long life, to enjoy these without disturbances ; and she makes use of these with a penetrating judg- ment, apprehending whereto the ends of these externally-seeming goods confer. Honour (saith she) is quickly fading, and an aspiring spirit, like the lofty cedar, is ever subject to most danger; when, like jacks in a virginal, or nails in a Avheel, the fall of one is the rising of another. Ample territories, and great possessions (saith she) are more than nature requireth ; she is content with a com- petent, and that competency reduced to a very narrow scantling ; 21 when of all our dross, estate, treasure, and possessions, going down into the earth, nothing shall you take with you : you shall carry no more hence, nisi parva quod urna capit, but a coffin and a winding- sheet. When Saladin, that puissant emperor of Persia, with many victorious and successive battles had extended the limits of his Mnpire, and through the happiness of his wars, being never in any one pitched field vanquished, become the sole terror of the eastern part, at last fell mortally sick, and perceiving how there was no way but one with him, called his chieftain, and commanded him (having been chief leader in all those prosperous wars which the emperor had achieved) to take his shrowding-sheet, and to hang it upon a staff in manner of a banneret, and with it to proclaim in the streets of Damascus — " This is all that Saladin, the emperor of Persia, hath left of his many conquests ; this is all he hath left of all his victories." Long life (saith she) is not worth desiring, since it gives but increase to a multitude of sorrows : she prefers a good life before a long life, and esteems that life best beyond all comparison which is exercised in the use of her creation. She concludes Avith the philosopher, optimum est aut non omnino nasci, aut quam cito mori; making life the theatre of shame if abused, but the eminent passage from a pilgrimage to a permanent city, if rightly employed. To be brief, she meditates of nought, affecteth nought, entertaineth nought, with a free will and a pure consecrated desire, but Avhat tastes of the spirit ; having her ear barricadoed against the insinuating desires of every seducing appetite : she is not of the world, though in the world, nor can she love any thing within the world's circumference ; in regard, the world liath her limits, but she not to be confined. The irascible is attended always upon by revenge; for the object of the wrathful faculty is honour and advantage, and if this cease, straight-ways courage and stomach decay, so as the least argument of distaste, like another Sylla, stirs her blood, and makes 22 up a Centaur's banquet. This faculty is always as ready to ap- prehend an occasion of punishing (yea, before it is offered), as to observe the means of executing, when the occasion is ministered. She will not say with that noble Venetian duke, " It is sufficient for a discreet prince to have power to revenge, that his enemies iriay have cause to fear him :" no, meditation upon revenge is the only prayer-book that this unbounded passion useth. Yet may this part, rightly tempered, include in it an excellent good ; for anger is not always unto sin : whence it is said, " Be angry, but sin not." We may be angry through zeal, and the fervency we bear to the gospel. Christ was angry when he whipped the buyers and sellers out of the Temple ; he was angry when his disciples con- tended for priority ; he was angry at the incredulity of the Gentiles, the obduracy of the Jews ; yea, he was angry at the barren fig-tree, when it brought out no fruit, and therefore cursed it, shadowing thereby the fruitless synagogue. O ! may my soul, if ever she be angry, feel this passion in the fervent love she bears to her Creator : may her anger be against herself in the woful remembrance of her sins ; that her anger may breed a detestation, detestation a recon- ciliation to her Saviour. But for such as with the bear cannot drink, but they must bite the Avater, far may my soul be divided from their dwelling. I will be angry, but commit no sin ; for the God of Sion hath prescribed me a form, to be angry for the zeal of God's house, wherein is no sin. The concupiscible is as the rest, of itself indifferent ; and as a line in a circle, equally tending to either part of good or evil : yet so depraved is man become, that, Medea-like, he is ever more prompt to take the worse rather than the better. Here the covetous miser covets to engross an huge estate to himself, making his purse the devil's mouth, and with his hydroptic conscience, though ever purchasing, yet ever coveting. Here the ambitious man displays his own humour to the eye of the world, of whom I may say, as ^3 was once said of one puffed up with the hke spirit : Quod habere non vult, est valde bonum; quod esse non vult, hoc est bonum; that is good which he desires not to have, that is good Avhich he would ^ not have come to pass : so exorbitant is the desire of the ambitious, as what he desires is nothing less than virtuous. Here the merchant aims at an exceeding gain in traffic ; he sHceth the seas, opposeth himself to all dangers, all distemperatures of wind and weather, ever using this concupiscible part, desiring a happy fraight for his adventure. Here the warrior's desire is confined to gain by the spoil of another : even the basest mechanic offices be conversant in this faculty, aiming at some especial end whereto their labours be directed. To covet things temporary, planting our affections on them, is discrepant from the right use of this excellent faculty : there is a good covetousness, and it is heavenly ; there is a good theft, and it is heavenly ; there is a good ambition, and it is heavenly : the good and godly-covetous covet not with Demas, nor Magus, nor Demetrius; they covet righteousness, sobriety, temperance, yea, all virtues which confer to human perfection; there is but one pearl of esteem, and to purchase it they sell all that they have ; this is a happy covetousness, a glorious merchan- dise. The good and godly thief cares not for embezzling earthly treasure, for he knows moths will corrupt it, rust will consume it, and continuance of time will deface it ; it is that immortal treasure which he would steal, for he observes how it is subject to no altera- tion, but continues in the same state ever. Again, he reads, " the kingdom of heaven suffers violence,'' and rather than he will lose it, with all violence he means to pursue it. The good and godly ambitious aim not at worldly honour, but as a subject incomparably above all external seeming hap|)iness ; for they consider how it is better to be a door-keeper in the Lord's house, than to be con- versant with princes. Happy thief, whose theft is heaven ; blessed covetousness, to covet heaven ; glorious ambition, to aspire to 24 heaven : may this theft be my soul's discipUne, this covetousiiess her exercise, this ambition her prize ; so, hke the good thief, may she be crowned, with the godly-covetous Zaccheus rewarded, and with the heavenly-aspiring soul exalted. How happy shall 1 be in this sense (the life of human offence) if by using these three faculties of my soul sincerely, I shall at last attain to the state of glory ! Yet how much is this sense, especially conversant in these three subjects, perverted, and violently wrested from her own nature, where such as desire to touch the ark, make this sense the instrument of their fall ! others, Gehezi-like, whose beating pulse will not forego the touch of gold, though they purchase it by a leprosy. O, how many fall by this sense of life, making it their sense of death ! Sodom's apples were but touched, and to dust and ashes they were reduced : the fairest of all our vanities be but Sodom's apples, they cannot endure the touch, for they are painted and adulterate. Far be my sense estranged from so profane a subject ; virtue, as it needs no colour to garnish it, so can it endure the touch, and never be changed. It is she that shall attend my sense, so as touching her intellectually, my soul by so sweet an apprehension may be incorporate in her individually. Here is my living sense well satisfied, and in this harbour planted, she will never desire to be removed; for affliction is ended, discontent cheered, and a perfect rest, without interruption, by her that is the true essence of delight, proposed. ESSAY IV.— OF TASTING. This sense makes me weep ere I speak of her, sith hence came our grief, hence our misery : when I represent her before my eyes, my eyes become blinded with weeping, remembering my grandam 25- Eve, how soon she was induced to taste that she ought not. Hence do I imagine (imagination is the end of man) how pure I had been if this one sense had not corrupted my pristine innocence : apples are suspicious to me, being the first that depraved me. I will rather distaste mine own palate, to give true relish to my soul's appetite, than by satisfying the first, corrupt the purity of the latter. By the ministry of this sense I apprehend the universal delights of this Avorld, and as in the palate, so find I in them a distinct operation. Many things hot in the mouth are cold in the stomach : such are worldly pleasures ; hot they are in the first pursuit or assault, and eagerly are they followed ; but in the stomach, that is, when digested and rightly pondered, how cold are those pleasures, being attended on by remorse, and observed by repentance. Again, hence do I gather the frailty and brevity of all earthly pleasures. Whatsoever ministers singularest content unto our appetite, is no longer satisfying than in the palate, for ?ifter going into the stomach that content is done : so delights, momentary and limitary to an instant, may for the present yield a satisfaction ; but how soon be these joys extinguished, how soon forgotten ? This sense cautions me of two sects, the Epicure and Pythagorist; the first by too much exceeding, the latter by too much restraining : the Epicure puts his money in his belly as the miser doth his belly in his purse ; but the Pythagorist neither cares for belly nor purse, scrupulously abstaining from that which Avas ordained for his use. The five senses (saith one) be our greatest sleepers ; yet I may aflSrm that this sense never sleepeth, for there is nothing seemingly senseless which she apprehends not either with free taste or distaste. Of all others this sense produceth the di- versest qualities : whence it is we say, " like lips like lettice," where this faculty, either by an indisposition of the body, or a distinct operation in the subject, shows this pleasing and acceptable to one, which is noisome and different to another. This sense must have 26 the body and mind prepared before she can rightly shew her own power : she admits of no distemper, suffers no restraint ; whence it is that we find by experience, where the body is not equally dis- posed, this faculty hath much of her operation impaired. The best taste is to distaste sin, and the worst taste is to effect that which confers to the soul a distaste. Of all tastes inherent in all subjects, none less distinguishing than the hungry man's taste, which may appear in those miserable famines of Samaria and Jerusalem ; rats, mice, weasels, and scorpions, were no common men's junkets; where motherly love renounced her name, and became the ruin of that she should cherish ; as the matron Myriam, who, constrained for her life's supportance, though she had but one son, killed and roasted him. Hence comes it, that necessity hath no law, nor hunger needs no sauce. Let my taste be directed by reason, and not by sense. Reason may enlighten her, and make her distinguish of desires, but sense perplexeth her, and subjects the better part to a slavish appetite. Many have exceeded in the use of this sense, but few restrained their desires with moderation. More Cleopatras than Cornelias, more Vitellii than Utica3, more Sileni than Salustii : ancient and modern replenish us with stories of this nature, where violent ends ever attended the immoderation of princes, but health- ful lives, and joyful periods, summed up the days of the temperate. The Venetians give us instance of these in themselves, amongst which there appears one more memorable. Domenico Sylvio', his duchess was so delicate a woman as she would have dew gathered to make her baine withal, with many other curious perfumes and tricks ; yet before her death her flesh did rot, so as no creature could come near her. May my taste be seasoned with no such delicacy ; let my affection rather disclaim herself than undo my soul by intemperate subjects. I will not care so much to taste ; ■ . ' The like instance we had in our time, of a delicious lady in this land. 27 what I love, as what 1 hate; for I know myself more subject tcJ surfeit in the one, than in the other. I have tasted most of inferior delights, yet in a general survey of all my pleasures, I cannot choose but weep, to remember how those delights which I affected, pro- duce no other fruit but repentance. The taste of vice to mortified affection, is like sweetmeats to him that is in an ague : she is dis- tasteful, and becomes more odious, in that she clothes delight with an habit of wantonness. I will choose, with holy Jerom, to build me a cell in the desert, to live out of the heat of concupiscence, rather than by living in the eye of the world, enthral my reason- able part to the appetite of sense. Taste engenders delight : I will not taste every thing I like, lest late repentance force me to distaste that which I liked. I will foresee the end ere I approve of the means, that, grounding on a golden mean, I may attain a glorious end. No tempting delight shall feed my appetite; for as pre- vention is the life of pohcy, so temptation, if consented to, is the passage to misery. Fowls of the air, though never so empty stomached, fly not for food into open pit-falls : qua nimis apparent retia, vitat avis. My soul shall imitate the bird, that she may escape (like the bird) out of the hand of the fowler. How happy were I, if I would taste nothing but what ministers content to the mind, sustaining nature, but not oppressing her; feeding, but not pampering her; cheering, but not cramming her. I have tasted many liquors, yet not like the briny current of mine eyes : tears are best extinguishers of sin, preparatives to remorse, motives to true contrition ; precious elixir, may thou ever be my drink in the time of my pilgrimage, and quench my thirst of sin with a desire of an heavenly inheritance. As the nurse layeth wormwood or aloes on her pap to wean her child from suck- ing, so will I sprinkle some bitter thing upon such things as I affect, that my delight may be restrained. How full of comfort am 1, when my taste is directed to a right end ? and how directed, when 28 it is besotted with vanities? How far better were it to live tem- perate, taste all things as indifferent, and conclude our days in quiet, than to have Dives' doom, Nabal's dole, or Balthazar's fall ? How far better were it to live like the hermit in the desert, than hke the sensual libertine, in the world, so dissolute? What is it to feed lusciously, fare daintily, taste all things with full satiety, when our fare shall be reduced to famine, our luscious feeding to soul- starving, and our satiety here on earth, to our penury for ever in hell ? It is better to distribute to those that crave, use temperance in what we have, and make our posterity true heirs of what we leave, than to cry in midst of an eternal flame, for one small drop to quench our thirst, and not be heard ; for one crumb, and not be satisfied; for one minute's ease, and not released. Taste may my soul no such dainties as may starve her ; delighted be my soul, but with no such vanities as may corrupt her : rejoice may my soul, but in no other subject, no other object, than her only Maker. So in the taste of this life, shall I remember my years with bitterness of heart ; that my life, which is reckoned not by years, but hours, not how many, but how good, may be as the taste of sweet-smelling odours in the nostrils of her Saviour : there is no odour like to it, no perfume to be compared to it ; it is a saving savour, a precious odour, and the Saints' honour. Happy sense that is thus sainted, comfortable taste that is thus renewed, and blessed soul that is thus invited ; taste and see how sweet the Lord is ; sweet in his mercies, sweet in his promises, and sweet in his performance. And such is the spiritual sweetness which every devout soul conceiveth in the contemplation of eternity, whose joy is not in the tents of Kedar, but in the bowels of her Saviour ; not with the inhabitants of Moloc, but the glorious seed of Isaac ; these have their taste in the green and flourishing pastures of God's Avord, distasting the flesh-pots of Egypt, and relishing only the manna of heavenly Canaan. Plea- sures which are earthly, they neither long for in expecting, nor love m when enjoying. They have found obstructions in the senses cor- poral, but free passage in the senses spiritual. They compare worldly tasting men to those wild asses which shift the wind ; their desires extend only to be thought good, dis-esteeming the excel- lency of real goodness, which maketh man truly happy. They observe four sorts of men in the world discovered by the eye of wisdom : some are wise, but seem not so ; some seem so, but are not so ; some neither are, nor seem ; some both are and seem : the last these only partake ; for as their essence concurs with their ap- pearance, so scorn they to express more in semblance than they are in essence. If there were no God, yet these men would be good ; and for sin, though they wist (to use Seneca's words) that neither God nor man knew it, yet would they hate it. O may my taste be thus seasoned, my palate thus relished, my affections thus marshalled, my whole pilgrim course thus managed, that my taste may distaste earth, relish heaven, and after her dissolution from earth enjoy her mansion in heaven. ESSAY v.— OF SMELLING. So provident hath that great workman been of all his crea- tures, as no delight even in this tabernacle of earth is wanting to make him more accomplished : and though the Five Senses (as that devout Bernard observeth) be those five gates by which the world doth besiege us, the devil doth tempt us, and the tlesh ensnare us, yet in every one of these, if rightly employed, is there a peculiar good and benefit redounding to the comfort of the soul, no less than to avail and utility of the body. For even by the smell, as by the conduit, by which is conveyed into us the dilated fountain of God's mercy, do we apprehend all varieties of flowers, sootesi. 30 sweets ; which moved the philosopher to term this sense the har-* binger of the spring. Some are of opinion, that this pecuhar sense is an occasion of more danger to the body than benefit, in that it receives crude and unwholesome vapours, foggy and corrupt ex- halations, being subject to any infection ; it is true : but what espe- cial delights confers it for one of these inconveniences ; cheering the whole body with the sweetest odours, giving liberty to the vital powers, which otherwise would be imprisoned, delight to her fellow senses, which else would be dulled, and the sweet-breathing air, which by her is received : all these (as so many arguments of con- sequence) bring us to a more exact acknoAvledgment of this Sense's excellence. The Smelling is termed the unnecessariest of all other Senses, yet may it be employed in cases of necessity ; witness De- mocritus, who against the celebration of the feast Buthysia, fasted nine days, sustaining nature only with the smell of hot bread. This Sense of mine shall not be subjected to outward delicacies : let the courtier smell of perfumes, the sleek-faced lady of her paintings, I will follow the smell of my Saviour's ointments ; how should I be induced, following the direction of reason, by such soul- bewitching vanities, which rather pervert the refined lustre of the mind than add the least of perfection to so excellent an essence? No, let Pigmalion doat on his own picture. Narcissus on his shape, Niobe on her numerous progeny ; my taste shall be to taste how sweet the Lord is ; my touch, the apprehension of his love ; my sight, the contemplation of his glory ; my ear, to accent his praise ; my smell, to repose in the fair and pleasant pastures of his word. O comfort, truly stiled one, in that my soul transported above her- self, unites herself to be joined to her Redeemer ! The gardens of the Hesperides, warded and guarded by those three daughters of Atlas, were pleasant ; the gardens of Lucullus fragrant ; the grove of Ida eminent ; yet not comparable to those exquisite pleasures which the divine pastures comprehend ; there is that hedged gar- 31 den, that sealed well, that Bethesda, that Eden, that Syloe ; here may the delight of every sense be reneAved; the thirsty satisfied, the hungry filled, the sick cured, the labourer cheered, and the exquisite mirror of all perfection, torrent of ever-flowing bounties, Jesse's branch, Aaron's rod, and that flowery garden of Engaddi represented. There is mel in ore, melos in aure, jubilus in corde; honey to the taste, melody to the ear, and harmony to the heart; honey which breeds no loathing, melody which is never discording, harmony ever agreeing. This is to be joined to an heavenly spouse, sending from paradise pomegranates with the fruits of apples; cypress, nard, nard and saffi'on, fistula, and cinnamon, with all the woods of Leb'anon, myrrh and aloes, with the best ointments i. What excellent delights be here proposed.? What exquisite comforts ministered ? It is sufiicient for me to admire them in this pilgrim- age, enjoying them by contemplation, which after many pilgrim days I shall possess in fruition. There is no pomander to smell at like the ointment of my Saviour : he is all sweet, all comfort, a|l delight; sweet in his mercy, comfortable in his promise, and de- lightful in his presence; in his mercy a father, in his comfort a Redeemer, and in his delight a replenisher; from his mercy and compassion is derived abundantly fulness of consolation ; from his comfort or promise, an assured expectation ; and from his delight of himself a plenary possession. Oh ! would to God with happy Joseph, I had taken down my Saviour from the cross, embalmed him in the spices or graces of my soul ; had lain him in the new sepulchre of my heart; that at least attending or following my Jesus, my obedience might have ministred something to so hea- venly obsequies. For how should I think but by the smell of his ointments, my sin-sick and soul-soiled conscience should be cured, who had power to raise dead Lazarus stinking in his grave, having Cant. 4. 3^ been four days buried? O that I might go to the mountain of myrrh, to the hill of frankincense, to be joined to him whose oint-, ments are above all spices ! How should I want any thing being so enriched ? How should I fear any thing being so armed ? or how Avish any thing, having whatsoever I desired?' Sweet-smelling per- fume of selected virtues, pure stream of divine graces, and amiable beauty never blemished ! No delight shall withhold me, no affec- tion seduce me, no inordinate pleasure entice me, no sweet smell draw me ; I have tied myself to my spouse in all my senses, being he that ministers refreshment to all my senses. If I eye any thing, it shall be my Saviour's cross ; if I hear any thing, it shall be my Saviour's praise; if I touch any thing, it shall be my Saviour's wounds ; if I taste any thing, it shall be my Saviour's comforts ; if I smell any thing, it shall be my Saviour's ointments. Blessed eye, that hath such an object ; blessed ear, that hears such a concord ; blessed touch, that hath such a subject; blessed taste, to have such a relish ; blessed smell, to have such a sweetness. As the nose is the conduit by which we receive breath, so should it be the conduit by which we receive grace : by it we breathe ; may we rather not breathe, than employ it not in breathing praise to our Maker. As the taste and smell have two distinct offices, yet by an affinity united, (for the obstruction of the one is the annoyance of the other) so may they be linked in one consort in the contemplation of their Creator ; that as the one is to be employed to taste and see how sweet the Lord is ; so the other, by following the smell of her Saviour's ointments, may at last attain to the mountain of eternal spices. ' Cant. 4. FINIS. CONTINUATION OF THESE ESSAYS, ENLARGED BY THE AUTHOB IN THESE SUBJECTS 1. THE SENSE OF SIN. 2. THE SENSE OF SORROW. 3. THE SENSE OF HUMAN VANITY. 4. THE SENSE OF OTHERS MISERY. 5. THE SENSE OR APPREHENSION OF FUTURE GLORY. % IMPRINTED AT LONDON, 1635. AMPLISSIMO ET AMICISSIMO VIRO, GULIELMO SAVILE, Baronetto: CLARITATE STIRPIS, SUAVITATE MENTIS, SACRIS CONNUBIIS, AMPLISSIMIS PR^DIIS, C^LITUM PR.EMIIS, AUSPICATISSIMO; R. C PIERIDUM HUMILLIMUS, ISTA THEOREMATA, CHARITUM CHARISMATA, CANDIDIORIS INGENII, LAUTIORA TRAGEMATAj IN AMORIS TESTEM, HONORIS TESSERAM, CANDIDIE, CONDIT^, CORDATi:, D. D. D. »'••• , 'nrrr'c CONTINUATION OF THESE ESSAYS ESSAY I.— SENSE OF SIN. Patients, when they have a sensible feehng in the search of their Wounds, beget in their chirurgeons a probable hope of their reco- very- Those griefs are only held incurable whereof the patients are insensible. To have an opinion of standing, when we fall ; of rising, when we lie grovelling still ; of increasing, when we decrease : what is it but to perish in the confidence of our opinion, and in spirit of presumption, to pride ourselves in the ways of perdition ? The sick only seek a physician ; but he who holds himself for well when he is sick, may be long sick ere he be well. What a misery it is for man to contemn that which solely dig- nifies man, and proclaims him worthy that titula> prerogative of man? What ado he makes with patching and daubing up this ruinous cottage of his crazy body ? What large exhibitions must gratify the superficial care of his obsequious doctor? With what punctuality he will regulate his irregular course to his prescriptions? To what a strict diet he will confine himself to procure a longer reprieve to a wretched life? Meantime, that precious margarite, 38 incased in this art-affected cabinet, may lose her histre, while her indiscreet owner tenders her small or no honour. An ambassador of Athens answered king Philip of Macedon, threatening that he would cause his head to be cut oif: — " If thou take this head from me, my country will give me another that shall be immortal." Statuam pro capite, pro morte hnmortalitatem. Collect hence, what an undaunted resolution appeared in a Pagan, whose aims came far short of the object of a Christian! Fame and Elysian fields, merely extracted from poetic raptures and fanatic dreams, were the glory they sought for : they desired only so to live, that the memory of their actions might leave to posterity succeeding annals of a re- nowned life. O that wretched man would recollect his dispersed, nay depressed thoughts, and raise the gradual affections of his soul to that sphere, where she may express her native beauty, as in her OAvn proper orb'! The soul in the body, is like to a queen in a palace. Should this princely seat, nay, this great king's court, be soiled with the rubbish or refuse of earthly steams, mouldy affec- tions ; how highly would it discontent so pure and glorious a sove- reign .? God forbid, that she, who was ordained for a sanctuary of the highest, should become a cage of unclean birds. And know, O man, that thou art miserably divided, nay eternally estranged from Him and his love, to which thou oughtest solely to be espoused, in- dividually affianced, by cleaving to sin, the deepest soil or stain of thy soul. For no cloth can be engrained in a deeper dye than the soul, when it is dyed in grain with sin. Where man, miserable man, quot vitiorum servus, tot dominorum, et quot dominorum, tot dcB- moniorum^. But whence is it, that this pure-piercing eye of the soul should be so taken with this pye-coloured flag of vanity, as to become forgetful of the supreme good, without which no true feli* city .? What be these Remora's which stay us in this our navigation ^ ' Bern. * Aug. 39 from the land of Canaan ? Four impediments there be which hinder us from heaven, as that melhfluous father saith : necessity, volup- tuousness, vanity, curiosity \ Necessity, in pretending a provident domestic care, not with- out apparent distrust of God's providence; voluptuousness, in tendering her darling flesh all obsequious indulgence; vanity, in complying with the humours of the time, and engaging herself to it in all observance ; curiosity, in a priding or affectation of herself, by challenging to her the title of pre-eminence. Now, that earthly things are a main impediment to withdraw us from our heavenly progress, so as we cannot mount up to heaven, is signified by the emblem of man* endeavouring to fly up towards heaven, having wings on his right arm, whereby he is lifted up on high, but a great plummet of lead, or weight of iron, or a heavy stone on his left arm, whereby he is drawn downward to the earth : whence it was, that devout father', walking one day in the open fields, to refresh his over-Avearied spirits, and seeing a shepherd's boy who had caught a bird, and tied a thread to the foot of it, where, ever and anon, as the bird laboured to mount upward, the thread hauled her downward, applied this divine moral, not without pious compassion, to man's miserable condition, in this manner : — " My soul, my poor restrained soul, is this captive bird, who, while she strives to ascend with the holy wings of heavenly desires, and to leave this tabernacle of earth, she is brought back by his retentive thread of my flesh. Strong she is in desires, but her affections are prevented, while she is by her fleshly Idumite restrained." But let us reflect a little upon the grounds or degrees of sin, that we may have a more sensible feeling of our sin. The first, then, is, as it were, a tickling of delight in the heart ; the second, consent ; the third, act ; the fourth, custom. These are the fatal pins of that ^ Bern, ^ Alciat. Emblem. 20. 3 Anselm. death-descending ladder which brings wretched man to the bottonir less lake of horror. Or to reduce to a straiter channel this exube- rant issue of sin : All divines agree, and prove it by St. James, that there are three degrees ; to wit, suggestion, delectation, and con- sent' : whereof, as the first is of the enemy, the second of our sen- suality, the third of reason ; so may the first be without fault, the second includeth (for the most part) some negligence, the third con- vinceth us always of iniquity. Or, to use the words of St. Gregory the Great^ : " In suggestion is the seed of sin, in delectation the nourishment, in consent the perfection." Now, eye the punishments of sin, which may be properly com- prised in these three; fear, shame, and guilt: fear of judgment, shame of men, and guilt of conscience. The bread of deceit is sweet to a man, but his mouth shall be filled with graveP. But what is it to fear judgment, and fearfully to incur it ; or to fear the shame of men, and to commit that which merits the shame of men; or to tremble at the horror of a guilty conscience, and to harbour that which afflicts the conscience? so as I cannot sufficiently ad- mire the purely refined resolve of that zealous lamp of our church, Avho constantly set his rest upon this : For sin, were I assured (said he) that God would forgive it, and that no man knew it, yet would I not commit it, merely for the deformity which I conceive to be in it. Deformity indeed, for it makes of saints, devils; of heirs of Sion, slaves of vSatan. It first deprived us of our primitive beauty, and caused our first sinner to fly to the bushes for shelter. But what retire or retreat could he find in any place from his -circumscribed place.'' Adam must be brought from the bushes, and Sarah from behind the door; and man shall say to his con- science, as Ahab said to Elias, " Hast thou found me, O mine enemy ?" Sins may be without danger for a time, but never with- ' Jacob. 4. Aug. lib. 1. de ser Dom. cap. 23. et lib. 12. de Tiin. ca. 12. ■^ Greg, ad inter. 1 U Aug. Cantuar. ^ Prov. xx. 17. 41 out fear. For if we hope by sinning secretly, to sin securely, we shall, by our security, give our grand enemy such opportunity, as he shall little need to fear aught less than a speedy victory. It was a pretty saying of Epicurus, " What profits it thee to sin safely, if thou canst not sin securely .'' or Avhat avails it the delin- quent to find means of retiring, when he has no confidence in the place of his retiring.'*" The way not to fear death is by holy actions, heavenly affections, to aspire to a better life. With what a safe and secure passage is he conducted, who hath made sin his slave, virtue his guide, heaven his goal ? Death he need not fear, for it conducts him to life : sin he need not fear, being that which he did ever loath : judgment he need not fear, for that will approve him : his Judge he need not fear, for his sentence doth acquit him. This, then, shall be my conclusion, and every pilgrim's admonition: Ed te unice cogita infeliciorem, quo in culpis numerosiorem. Want of means, loss of friends, deprival of honour, should not all so much deject thee, as by one sin to dishonour him that made thee. There is nothing makes an ignoble soul, but corrupting her blood by attainder of sin. ESSAY II.— THE SENSE OF SORROW. Sense of Sorrow must of necessity follow sense of sin, the wretched parent of an unhappy issue. Sin begets Sorrow; for thrice unhappy he who conceives no sorrow for sin. If I look not into myself, I know not myself; and if I look into myself, I cannot endure myself. In my summer arbour, when pleasures enclose me, and no visible object of discontent iuterposeth itself to cross me ; even then, when my friends accompany me, and all transitory delights smile upon me, with one reflex upon mine own unhappi- G 42 ness, is all my solace turned to sadness, my pleasing discourse ta melancholy retiredness. Then I begin to pen a pensive ditty, suiting best with my troubled fancy. Then I consider Avhat is lost by sin, in respect of glory ; what is got by sin, in respect of misery ; what miserable man hath lost, and what he hath found ; what is gone, and what remains. And in this survey I find how he hath lost felicity, for which he was made, and hath found misery, for which he was not made. That is gone, without which nothing is happy ; and that remains, without which nothing is unhappy. Man, then (and happy then) eat the bread of angels, which now he hath not : man now (and unhappy now) eats the bread of sorrows, which then he knew not. Shall I, then, with the fool, when he goes to the stocks, laugh at mine own punishment ? Shall I see mine own condition represented in man, and partake in no sorrow for the miseries of man ? Nothing is more to be pitied than to see a distressed man take no pity of himself. Many Heathens, who had but weak glimpses of eternity, would not sufier them- selves to be taken up Avith the least joy, during their reside here on earth. Heraclitus, Crates, Anacharsis, were never seen to laugh ; they found nothing here worth enjoying, much less joying. And shall man, who is now enlightened above a natural man, and whose eye should be fixed on no lov/er sphere than eternity, imniix his purer thoughts Avith the rubbish of vanity ? or sing his songs in a strange land ? or prefer the husks of a prodigal child, before the hopes of an heir apparent ? I rather commend his answer, who, being exiled his native country, and one day asked why he looked so heavily, replied, " I bear the emblem of this place in my front." For what hath man on earth that may truly cheer him, Avithout the society of a cheerful guest Avithin him ? For my part, I see no object without a tear, no place Avithout fear, Quocunque eo, fleoy me delyrasse Deo. Delyria carnis, suspiria cordis. Great sins require great signs. For Avhen I consider how so many shall be- 43 come judges of me, and "witnesses against me, as in the practice of piety have out-stripped me, my heart faints within me, my languishing spirits leave me, and I am left to myself to bemoan my misery. Birds of the wilderness were holden unclean, yet will I build me a recluse in the wilderness, that I may with more privacy bewail my sin. Melancholy must be my melody, in this model of misery. It adds to the burden of a mother's sorrow, to bring forth a monstrous birth ; and what should it do Avith the soul, who so often brings forth a monstrous birth, as she begets a mortal sin'.'' This lingering life of man, what is it but a perpetual and continual repentance? A perpetual repentance in habit, though not in act; in affection, though not in action. Where life is a punishment to afflict us, a thraldom to enchain us, an exile to estrange us from that country which can only secure us*. For what is this life but a medley of distracted cares, desires, and fears.'' Desire of having what we have not, and fear of losing what we already have. While man, indiscreet man, becomes, for most part, more unhapping in having than wanting; for by loving things hurtful, he becomes more unhappy by enjoying than fore- going : so, as what he accounts his best good, becomes, by abuse of the creature, his extremest ill. Man hath nothing here on earth which he may properly call his own, save time ; and of that time he hath but one poor moment, which carelessly lost, he stands lost for ever. He daily hears, how eternity depends on a moment; yet, for the husks of vanity, he neglects eternity, and, consequently, slaves himself to eternal misery. Tell me, deluded man, who boldest no mean in the daily aggravation of thy sin, whence is it, that thou so fattens and adorns thy flesh with all precious delights and delicacies, which, within few days, the worms are to devour in the grave ? But ' Alb. Mag. - Clement. 44 adornest not thy soul with good works, who is to be presented before the majesty of God and his angels, in Heaven. Whence is it, that thou so disvaluest thy soul, and preferest thy flesh before her? O, that thou wouldest recollect thyself, and enlarge thy devotion in a fervorous exposition upon that particle : O si resi- duum tempus detur ! ^'C. O, having heard the censure of eternal death pronounced on thee, and no hope of reprieve afforded thee; thy friends estranged from thee, all visible comforts made torments by a strange catastrophe, to afflict thee ; if the residue of a longer life were allotted thee, or some small enter-breath of time granted thee for repentance, and disburdening thy surcharged conscience, how strict and exact a course would be by thee accepted, and with what joyful compassion entertained, that thy time's remainder, by a serious endeavour, might be redeemed ! What free and voluntary tributes of tears ? what constant and infatigable encounters with all extremes ? No exile would seem grievous ; for to suffer exile in a place of exile, cannot be tedious. His aims, his desires winged with a zealous affection to his native country, would make all difficulties seem easy, the sharpest tasks achieved with facility. But what is there that may work deeper impressions on our Sense of Sorrow, than to consider, how man never flies to God till all hope of comfort or success fly from him ? Qucb nos hie premunt, ad Deum nos ire compellunt\ When the sea is calm, the sailor is secure ; his mouth is shut from prayer, but open to fearful oaths, and fatal healths ; but no sooner comes a storm, than he veils his Aving, pulls down his top and top-gallant, he acquaints his unpliable knees with the cold floor, he lifts his enforced eyes to heaven, and calls for mercy, for he perceives there is a commanding power iu the depths. The sick-languishing soul, who sung no song but Requiem in ' Greg. 45 her health, having now felt God's arrows stick in her flesh, becomes, humbled, and fits the burden of her song to the tune of LachrymcE. He promiseth to become a new man, if God will but make him a sound man ; but why will he not do it without condition ? let him be soundest at heart when sickest in body. Quicquid sanatus institueris, hoc insanatus illicd prcestiteris. Continue not inwardly ill till thou beest outwardly well. Nothing is more unhappy than the happiness of the wicked. The body, when it is scourged, the soul is healed ; the affliction of the one is the refection of the other. Do not murmur when prosperity is to thee a stranger. The further thou art from comfort on earth, the nearer thou art to the consort of heaven. Fix thine eye where it may be satisfied. Set thine heart on that which may truly enrich it. He that makes heaven his object, makes every inferior thing his subject. If we sorrow, let it be for sin ; if we rejoice, let it be in remembrance of Sion. There is nothing here worthy our care, much less a tear. We have a continual feast within us, so long as we suffer no foreign guests to disturb us. So we be ready with our accounts, and watch for our master's coming, sorrow may last for a night, but joy cometh in the morning. ESSAY III.— THE SENSE OF HUMAN VANITY. Nothing is so vain as man, if he raise not his thoughts above man. Weak is he in his resolves, unbounded in his desires, and seldom successive in his dispatch. Take a view of the whole progress of man, and see what poor conclusions the premises of his deceiving life are drawn to. What is honour but a rising step to make the unwary mounter to fall 46 lower? What friendship, but a fair semblance or fiourisliing pre- tence of siding with us ? What riches, but occasions of our unhap- piness, withdrawing our minds from that supreme good Avhich only may suffice us? How happy had many been if they had never tasted earthly happiness ; while applause either maddened them, or popularity overswayed them, or some indirect aims, insufficiently wrought, dispatched them. For mine own part I may safely aver, that there was never earthly thing, wherein I conceived any ex- traordinary delight, which closed not in the end with much bitter- ness and discontent ; and I collected thence, how those delights I conceived were not rightly grounded, and consequently could not be long continued. I have observed what care and affliction of mind a poor earth-worm would suffer, and never hold it suffering, to purchase a buttall of land from his neighbour, or to foil him in an unnecessary suit, or by unjust ways to improve his estate. Meantime, with what an indifferent, or rather, averse ear, would he hear ought tending to his spiritual good ! of these he would hear another time, his attention was elsewhere fixed, his desires to drossy affections so engaged, as nothing more disrelished him than what highliest concerned him. Where is now the discretion which should be in man, when he seats his thoughts on mortality, as if he should never return to earth, but find a permanent city in a wilder- ness ? Daily he sees man changed, to earth resolved, their beauty blanched, their power blasted, their state to their posterity, or sometimes to those, where they professed greatest enmity, resigned. He thinks (foolish man !) that time past was short, but time present and to come will last long. Miserable worldUng ! he desires to take out his gold when he can scarcely see it, and to tell it, when his groundling disposition hath enjoined him never to enjoy it. Nor is the voluptuous sensualist less vain, when he sets his fame, friends, safety of soul and body, all at one stake. How well it suits with his debauched humour to roar the night over, and to a 47 light courtesan to impawn his honour. Present delights make him forgetful of approaching distress. He feeds lusciously, courts his courtesan wantonly, and slaves himself to the attendance of vanity. Nor is the ambitiously aspiring spirit, who scorns to stalk in common paths, less vain in his indiscreetest aims. He eyes his own worth, labours to advance himself in affairs of state, and by in- teresting his person in high designs, hopes to aspire to a place of seconding, if not transcending his demerits. All this while he never eyes his competitor, who holds himself of equal honour; whose interposition begets in him that affliction, as he makes the poet's saying an axiom, Justius invidia nihil est. by eating up the heart and marrow of her master. Should we take a more exact survey of persons of all condi- tions, we should find vanity display her colours in every family. But let us draw yet a little nearer to her nature, by a more curious reflex had to ourselves. Man is ever eager in the quest or pursuit of his own praise, but impatient of his reproof. Though he might observe all things to be vain, and of vanities none lighter than himself, yet he magni- fies himself in his own folly, and in actions of greatest peril pro- miseth to himself most security. When he walks after the desire of his own heart, he is conceited he walks in a cloud, and that none can discover him, though he shew himself unmasked to the world. But what a misery is it to see him left to himself! How far he estrangeth himself from that Avhich should solely distinguish him from a savage! This confirms that of the tragedian': Tunc adolescens omni siihsternitur vanitati, cum sua vancc admittitur libera tati, et gravi adjicitur voluptati. To give an unmanaged horse the reins is dangerous; but nothing to the liberty of an unconfined will. Such an one makes * Sen. in Here, furent. 48 the world a theatre of vanity, where all scenes of lightness are acted in their own proper postures. He sees no fashion, be it never so uncomely nor phantastic, which doth not infinitely take him ; yea, the more strange the nearer he thinks it represents state. This makes him to become not only gorgeous, but gaudy ; and to proclaim himself to the wide world, the professed favourite of folly. Here another is as vain in his thoughts, though not so humor- ous nor sumptuous in his habit, for he disguiseth a proud heart in a threadbare coat, where you may see a philosopher's gown, but no philosopher ; he would gladly be admired for his poverty, and this is the period of his philosophy. Both these have in them a spice of vanity ; the former in being too curious, the latter too seemingly careless. Now 1 have observed a kind of men to whom you can do no greater injury than not to admire them : these send out their eyes to woo observance, and when they can find no foolish admirers they return discontented. But all this is nothing to the vanity of those elders, Avhose very experience can deliver you a lecture of mortality ; for they (seem- ingly) have long time conversed with death, and made him as familiar as if he were their inmate. They can discourse gravely* and amplify it with precedents occurring daily : no longer than yesterday they accompanied their neighbour to his grave ; and he was rich in fortunes, fame, family, and progeny, yet could all these procure him no reprieve ? Let us prepare us then (will these say) for we are made of the same mold, and therefore cannot wear out long. Again, they will not stick to illustrate mortality with history, and say : About the river Hypanis, which runneth through a part of Europa, into the Pontick sea, (as that profound Stagyrite affirm- eth) there are bred certain beasts which live but one day ; and compare our age with immortality, and we shall be, found to live in manner as short a space as those day-dying beasts. But no sooner are these grave patriots returned home, than they quite for- 49 get those memorials of frailty they had left, betaking themselves to their first love, the embraces of this world ; promising to themselves long life, when the very faculties of nature fail, and deny perform- ance of their proper offices. O, if we would consider how all things are vanity, save only to please God and to serve him, we would withdraw our thoughts from earth ; that so, by contemning these objects of vanity, and devoutly aspiring to those of eternity, we might live with him whom we here loved, enjoy him whom we here served. ESSAY IV.— THE SENSE OF OTHERS' MISERY. Humane it is to compassionate human misery, and to consider how nothing befalls man which may not befall another man, if His preventing grace be awanting Avho made man. There is none but he is sensible enough of his own griefs, and in a personal remorse can resolve his complaints into tears, in the relation of his own mishaps. When he looks from any high spire or promontory, he shakes and shudders ; such a reflecting conceit he retains to him- self, and so sensible he is of his own danger. But all this while wherein suffers he in another's misery ? what sense has he of his restraint ? what compassion takes he of his want ? Albeit, nothing relisheth better of true humanity, than to have a fellow feeling of another's infirmity. Qui dolorem exhihet in aliena necessitate, crucem portat in mente\ He that sheweth compassion in another's afflic- tion, sorrow in another's necessity, beareth Christ's cross in his mind. In partaking of which burden much discretion is required, that the sufferer may become more eased by having his griefs in some proportion shared. Times and seasons are to be observed ; for ' Greg. H 50 it is not so hard to give comfortable counsel to the sorrowful, as to find a fit season when to give it. To minister cordial or comfortable advice to one surprised with frensy of passion, what fruit or benefit can it produce for that season ? not only then an alfable compas- sionate spirit, but a discreet conceit is requisite for such a work. It was commendable in Marcellus, upon his taking of that flourishing city of Syracuse, to stand upon the walls, and forth of noble compassion to shed tears before he shed any blood. Nor was Titus his princely pity less to be admired, who in his surprise of the holy city attested his sorroAV Avith tears, and with sundry pas- sionate interbreaths expressed his compassion in the view of her destruction. And to single or cull out what especial persons this excellent virtue best becometh, there are none that discover her beauty more than those who are made presidents in affairs of judicature. When we see justice executed with mildness, with what greediness are plebeian eyes fixt on him ; how their prayers are poured forth for him ; with what calm and composed spirit the adjudged delinquent embraceth his censure, because attempered with sAveetness without any taste of rigour ! His heavy doom he allays with compassionate tears, which so supples the relenting prisoner as he entertains his sentence for a favour. The like I have often observed in a Reverend Statesman^ in this kingdom, who is yet living, (and may he live long to be an honour to the place where he is seated, and a precedent to such as shall succeed him !) in pronouncing an order or definite decree be- twixt parties, who, when at any time he perceived that law could say nothing in behalf of the plaintiff", yet that equity spoke for his relief, he would forbear to deliver his sentence till he had in an amicable wa}^ called the defendant before him, and moved him by many powerful and persuasive reasons to incline to a peace; yea, ' Qu. Lord Coventry ? Editor. 51 and nobly interposing himself (amidst the pressure of his more weighty affairs) to umpire it, that it might be more evenly carried, and more equally composed. May such men's actions be living annals to posterity, to beget in others a pious emulation of their virtues ; that, like pure lamps, they may shine in the courts of equity, and by their exemplary goodness make after ages to bless them in their memory ! This noble and princely compassion suits no less with per- sonages of highest quality in affairs of judicature ; for it is the property of a candid nature, a compassionate temper, truly to profess that he hath spared where he might have spilled, than to have spilled where he might have spared'. The empress wisely admonished her husband, when, sitting at play, and minding his game more than the prisoners, he pronounced sentence upon them, in a sympathizing feminine compassion, re- flecting on their condition, " The life of man," quoth she, " is not a game at tables, where a wooden man is taken up by a blot and thrown aside, and the loss is not great." Nor is this to extend only to criminal causes; seeing, whether it be life or land, there is no great difference in the account of God; for the bread of the poor man is his life, and he that oppresseth the poor eateth him like bread. Whether therefore it be in the life, or in the living of man, the office of justice is not to wade to the ancles, but up to the chin ; to sound the bottom and depth of the cause ; carefully to confer all presumptions and inducements ; prudently to deliberate ; to enucleate all difficulties ; and, though the case be dangerous, and great probabilities of eviction against the examinate, yet by a serious indagation to have the proof of the fact clearly laid forth. We have a precedent hereof in God him- self, who, though he be nearer to offenders than the bark to the tree, by the presence of his godhead, which filleth heaven and ' Cicero de Orator, lib. 2. earth, yet when the cry of Sodom and Gomorrah was great, (to leave a succeeding example of justice to the sons of men,) " I will now go down," saith he, " and see whether they have done altoge- ther according to that cry, and if not, that I may know." But to return to our former subject, which makes compassion her object. So far removed are some adamantine natures from partaking in others' griefs, as that of the poet' may be truly verified of them ; Vixque tenent lachrymas, quia nil lacrymabile cernunt. But these partake more of savage than human, so as they are not to be admitted into the list of our discourse. We speak here of men to men ; such, I say, as can resolve into tears through their sensible feeling of others' griefs, whereof we have a singular pattern in him who was the architype of all divine graces, and in whom every distinct action should be to us a motive of instruction, a model of imitation. No?i aliter Redemptoris nostri membra efficimur, nisi adharaido et compatiendo proiimis^. We become no otherwise the members of our Redeemer, but by cleaving and suffering with our neighbour. And to press it farther, by a sentence of the same father : Quanto quis perfectior erit tanto perfectius alienos dolores sentit^. By how much any one is perfecter in grace, by so nmch more perfectly he feels another's grief. " Nor do I remember," (to use the words of a divine father,'') " that I ever read any one die miserably, who exercised himself freely in works of charity." But the vanity of this age disrelisheth the sweetness of that divine air; for how is it to be hoped for, that a fantastic dame should take pity of the poor, or cover their nakedness, when they Avill not take pity, of themselves, nor cover their loose, naked breasts, laid out to display their wantonness ? Members of one body suffer mutually. Let us look upon our head, and we will acknowledge ourselves to be united members. Now, let this sacred union admit ' Ovid. . * Greg. ' Ibid. -• Hier. 53 ho distraction. Be it our joy to see our brother prosper, and in his affliction equally sufter. And this we shall easily do, if we la- bour to wean us from self-love, by reserving a part of that for our neighbour which was before wholly engrossed to ourselves. Being thus equally minded, we shall find a friend to cheer us when the sharpest gusts of seeming discontent assail us. ESSAY v.— THE SENSE OR APPREHENSION OF FUTURE GLORY. To apprehend, whereto our conceit may no way extend, is impossible. Yet may Ave collect symphoniacally, though not ana- logically nor proportionably, by the excellence of the creature the infinite goodness of the Creator. If these things be so good which are created, how infinitely good is he by Avhom they were created ! " For the invisible things of him, that is, his eternal power and godhead, are seen by the creation of the world'." From hence let us return to our heavenly city, Avherein we are enrolled and recorded citizens. Let us reflect a little upon that heavenly condition, which frees us from the incumbrances of earth, and spheres us in the mansions of heaven. He that hath once tasted of the fountain Clitorius, Avill never drink any Avine. The happy invited guest may here plenteously feed, and never surfeit; being there seated, Avhere neither desire begets longing, nor satiety loathing. Seek, then, that one good wherein consisteth Avhatsoever is good, and sufiiceth. Repose yourselves in him who comprehendeth all things in him, and Avhose presence only secureth. The only vision of God is the true refec- tion of the soul : and if this be such Avhen Ave have him in a glass, what shall we enjoy when we have him face to face ? ' Roni. i. 20. Varro reporteth', that the ancient philosophers have held and maintained two hundred threescore and eight several opinions concerning felicity. We have learned better things than to be enwreathed in error ; for we know wherein our sole felicity consist- eth, even the fruition of our Saviour. Suppose, then, after our long fast, a long expected feast, wherein are nine dishes furnished with heavenly dainties, and prepared for such as seek heavenly things. The first is, (1.) Youth without age'^ : this life are we to enjo}^ where there is youth Avithout age. The second is, (2.) Health Avithout infirmity : for the glorified body can be no more hurt than a beam of the sun. The third is, (3.) AVealth without poverty : " Thou shalt enjoy abundance of all things^" Now, it may be demanded, whence is it that man cannot be satisfied, nor his desires filled with honours, dehghts, riches, and the like ; and it is easily answered, because the soul is made after the image of God, and therefore cannot be filled till it come to that image or pattern to which it was made ; and this is God himself, and then it resteth. For example sake, when wax is stamped by a seal, and the impression is afterwards carried through the whole world, and, compared with all other seals, it retains the perfect resemblance of none but of the first : so it is with the soul made to the image of God. Whence Saint Bernard : " The reasonable soul made to the image of God, may be with all other things occupied, but never satisfied ; it is capable of God, and whatsoever is less than God cannot fill it." Fourthly, (4.) Peace with perpetuity. As there is none who would not willingly rejoice, so there is none who would not willingly enjoy peace ; which peace, even those who wage war desire by a glorious victory to obtain, that by war, to their eternal praise, they may enjoy a triumphant peace. None may come to the ' Lib. de philos. apud Aug. de Civit. Dei, 1. 19. c. i. ^ Aug. * Deut. 8. 55 inheritance of the Lord, but by observing of his will'. Peace is Qur guide to eternal life. Fifthly, (5.) The angels cheerful festivity : where the courts of the Lord resound with that harmonious voice of angelic melody*: " Blessed are they that dwell in thy house, for ever and ever shall they praise thee." Sixthly, Our (6) graces fecundity : when the actions of our lives are approved, and in Him whose mercies are our merits, meritoriously reputed. Seventhly, (7.) Of all the elect the blessed society. " Behold I saw a great multitude, which no man could number." Whence Anselme : " Every one there rejoiceth no less in another's glory, than of their own proper felicity." Whence Gregor}-, in his morals : " Who is it that may sufficiently declare, how great joy every soul shall con- ceive in the humility and integrity of the holy patriarchs, in the credulity and fidelity of the prophets, in the charity and great love of the apostles, in the constancy and patience of the martyrs, in the piety and clemency of the coul'essors, in the chastity and con- tinency of the virgins! Surely tongue and voice fail, and under- standing sufficeth not to apprehend, what great joy it may be to be present with the choirs of angels, to see the presential coun- tenance of God with the blessed and elect ! The eighth, of that (8.) glorious Virgin, that sacred, secret cell wherein was inclosed the hope of our salvation. Ninthly, is that joy above all which hath been hitherto said, and without which all is nothing, whatsoever hath been said ; even that universal beatifical joy (wherein is dished up all dainties) which we shall conceive in the (9) vision of God. This shall be the summary joy, to see the face of God ; because the desire of every one's affection is found stored and closed in this divine vision. For God himself shall be the end of our desires, because he shall be seen without ending, loved without loathing, praised without Avearying; for Avhatsoever man desireth he shall enjoy most fully, when he beholdeth the mysterious mirror of the glorious Trinity. For he that seeth God, seeth and knoweth aJl ' Aug. de Civ. Dei. * lb. li. 19, Ainbros. Sup. Luc. ' Apoc. 7. 56 things, being known to Him who knoweth all thingsV So as what- soever his kindred or others do upon earth, is known to him, through the knowledge of Him who made heaven and earth. Whence the master of the sentences : " They that see the glory of God, there is nothing done by the creature which they may not see : for Avhat is it that they may not see, who see Him that seeth all things*?" Whence the psalmist: " Shew unto us the light of thy countenance, and we shall be safe/' And to contract all in one : " This is life eternal, that they know thee to be the only very God, and whom thou hast sent, Jesus Christ^" But to draw nearer home : say, thou way-faring man, who art tired (and less thou canst not be than tired, with thy long and tedious journey in this sandy desart of Iduma^a), how joyful it would be for thee to see thy native country ? Si?i aspectus terrestris patricB tarn sit delect abilis, quam amabilis erit terra desiderabilis ? Say, thou sea-faring man, avIio combatest with floods, winds, and waves, and art divided but four fingers breadtii from death, how pleasing would it be to thee to gather thy vessels in the haven ; to rest from tugging at the oar, sweating in the sun ; to enjoy perpetual honour, and to rest eternally from thy labour? O eternity"! eternity ! To think of Hell, what can be here painful ? To think of Heaven, what can be here delightful ? One reflex of divine com- fort Avill disperse all disconsolate clouds of approaching anguish, and make all glimmering rays of outward comfort, not so much as the least motives of solace. Long to be there, where thou mayest ever be, and where eternity shall accompany thy glory. In this vale of tears, remove all sensual cares, and address your chief care for the fruition of eternal joys, that, loving them before you see them, seeing them you may enjoy them. ' Aug. 2U. de Civit. Dei. * Greg. ^ John 17. * Anach. DETRACTION. Sicut difficile aliquem suspicatur malum qui bonus est : sic difficile aliquem suspicatur bonum qui malus est. — Chrysost. sup. Mat, Detraction is a sin, derived from him who first seduced woman to sin ; she is conversant in extenuating of virtues, detract- ing from the good, and spying occasion how to derogate from his worth which is most deservingly eminent: she is called by the sententious Lipsius, a privy, guileful, wounding of the name, by these two instruments, pen and tongue: she is termed by that philosopher, a secret undermining thief, that breaketh into the precious cabinet of all moral virtues, not to possess them, but corrupt them ; not to enjoy them, but detract from them : she is harboured in male-contents, respectively entertained by novelists, an inquisitive observer of state affairs, and a serious agent in civil divisions : she is a great enemy to peace, yet expects small benefit by war ; never contented, so long as she sees deserving men honoured : she is amongst men as pernicious, as to God odious ; being a profest foe to none more than such as be zealous of God. Saturn is said to have predominancy over her, Idleness is the foster- mother of her, and Envy claimeth an especial prerogative in her. It is strange to see how her censures be ever grounded on igno- rance in matters of knowledge, where public or private imputation useth to be the main scope of her invention. Rightly was she compared to the venomous tarantula, bred in the region of Apulia, whose stinging was not to be cured by aught but music ; to witj I 58 the melody of a sincere and patient mind, prepared to endure what- soever she shall inflict, yet able to wipe off whatsoever she can asperse. As it is the property of a friend to conceive well, to defend and speak well of those labours we compose, or actions we perform (saith Lucilius), so is it the use of a discontented and malignant nature to deprave the best by misconstruction, ever aiming at the worst ; much like the toad, that may not endure to smell the sweet savour of the vine, when it flourisheth. Whence I may justly assume a particular complaint, having got the name of a detractor, which I never merited. But well do I perceive whence I gained that title, traduced, not deserved, being by mahce sug- gested, or on misconstruction (the indirectest path to probable opinion) grounded. For construction is the moulder of detraction : and impossible is it, that so many different minds should jump in •one censure, for particular vices enforce an application to ourselves, what was meant in generality. So as nothing can be writ, in how temperate a style soever, but some personal distaste may be occasioned contrary to the mind of the author, yet sorting with their own vicious humour; whereas it would relish more of true wisdom, to reform that in ourselves, Avhich gives occasion of reproof unto others, than publicly to discover our own defects, by applying that to ourselves which perchance had as near, if not nearer, affinity to others. And herein was Vespasian commendable, who appre- hensive enough of offence, and powerful enough to revenge, could wisely forbear to be captious in the one, or violent in the other. As for popular opinions, which have their foundation on no other ground than erring report, I appeal from them to a firmer and faithfuUer testimony, that is, my own conscience, which can say thus much of me in lieu of so many objections : Non haheo in me, quod testetur contra me. So sincere were my purposes from the beginning, as they ever aimed at a more generous and glorious mark, than to stoop to such baseness as personal calumniation, the infallible note of an ignoble and mnvorthy disposition. Albeit more ajjparent it is than light : Ut bellucB sunt hwnan<£, ita homines bellidni ; whose depraved actions should be glanced at, whereby shame might reclaim them, seeing themselves brought forth naked to the world ; or the examples of others deter them, whose fearful ends were occasioned upon like means. And such as these be as necessary fautors and supporters of virtue and her declining sove- reignty, as those cherishers and professors of vice be principal causes of virtue's decrease ; yea, those be they which that regal patron and pattern of justice, Aristides, termed the centinels of his kingdom, because they roused and raised his people from the secure sleep of riot and excess, persuading them to employments more generous and manly, than to expose so precious a treasure as time, to sensual effeminacy. Amongst these (I confess it) I may be ranked, nor is this rank unworthy the approbation of the best ; for my aim hath ever been (so far as the small portion of my ability extended) to propose a way as accommodate to the course of virtue, in a general observance, as particular practice ; endeavouring to instance in myself by example, what my works proposed by in- struction. Wherein, if at any time I failed (as what man living may not at some times fail, if not fall), so unfeigned and urgent was my desire of redeeming the time 1 lost, as I surceased not to labour till I regained what I lost. Yea, so far have my thoughts ever been from excusing or extenuating my imperfections (which have been ever before mine eyes), as I made that divinely-moral instruction of Epictetus, my entirest counsellor ; who wills me not to deny the sins mine enemy taxes me with, but to reprove his ignorance, in that, being unacquainted with the infinity of my crimes (which minister no less occasion of fears than tears), he lays only two or three to my charge, whereas, indeed, I am guilty of a million. But for that other rank, whose oily tongues can smooth the errors of the vicious, as woll as smother the deserving parts of 60 the virtuous, I as much loathe the gain of their traffic, as I hate their trade. For the world shall not hire me to utter one word to their praise, which deprave the world ; nor the eminentest rewards force me to detract, where virtue bids me commend. For so small is the content I reap on earth, as I see nothing in it of that worth which might move me to flattery ; or of that daring command, to force me to dispraise what is good, having a prepared soul within me. Briefly, as I detest these base creepers, so will I seek to avoid the dangerous company of detractors ; since the former, as they imply spirits ignoble and depressed, so the latter infer troubled minds, and such as are discontented. Long time, therefore, have 1 resolved to sconce myself betwixt these two ; for whoso observeth not a mean, is in danger of being split by one of these two. But to return to the nature of these detractors, which Pindarus calls men lof uncurbed mouths ; they are ever itching after news, which, by an uncharitable gloss, they labour so t6 pervert, as they may re- dound to the imputation of some personal agent interested in those affairs. They are subtile interpreters to the worst sense, for (spider like) they suck poison out of the wholesomest flowers. As every age is infected with their poison, so no age from them can plead exemption. Where nature herself shall be reviled by them, being she that first produced them. One finds fault with nature, and taxeth her of indiscretion, for setting the bull's horns rather on his head than his back, being the stronger part. Another, that she should place both the eyes before, whereas Providence would have set one behind, and another before, to arm man against danger as well behind as before. Yea, even those orators and pleaders for the prerogative of nature, have been ofttimes seen to detract from her sovereignty ; as the sensual epicure, whose absurd opinion was, that there was indeed a superior power, which had command over the inferior creatures, yet was that power but an idle god, loving his rest and quiet, and retiring himself frojn the care of man or his 61 affairs ; giving him free scope and liberty to do what he list, and reposing the supreme happiness of a Deity in rest. To confirm which palpable opinion, some irreligious epicures of our time, for the better establishing their doctrine of security, have produced, or rather more impiously traduced that portion of sacred scripture : Requievit Dominus in septimo die super omnia qua patrarat. So generally pernicious is this poison of the world, as it aims not only at inferior subjects, but even at the transcendent power of the Almighty, piercing (that I may use Homer's Avords) the sphere of Heaven, and wounding Jupiter himself. These be those asps' tongues which poison our good names ; those spiders which, with an artful of secret admiration, bring webs out of their bodies to intangle us poor flies in their snares ; those spreading tetters which eat into our reputation ; those suck-bloods which exhaust the pith and marrow of our souls ; they are those canker-worms which ever browse on the tenderest and sweetest blossoms of our virtues. In brief, what soever is opposed to good, that are they, aspersing the foulest blemishes on men of approvedest deservings. True it is, that nothing is more swift than calumny, for she is ever flying; more eager, for she is ever assailing; more cautelous, being ever prying ; more tyrannous, being ever raging ; or more remorseless, being ever devouring. In a well governed state this axiom holds ever impregnable : Eaclem est fee licit as univs hominis et totius civitG" fis: but how far she is estranged from that felicity, may appear by the hate she bears to every good man within the city ; professing for faith, fraud ; mixing deceit with fairest pretences of affection ; conversing with purpose to traduce ; importunate in the pursuit of acquaintance, which she makes as notorious by her report, as if they were prodigies in nature by their life. She cannot endure to entertain such into the lists of her discourse, as affect a reserved silence ; for those cannot yield her argument of talk, because they are not talkers. Those which, Catiline likcj will promise much and 62 do little, relish better in her palate, than such as, Jugurtha like, will speak little but do much. Thus far, in expression of her nature; I will now touch the place of her abode. For the place of her abode, it is harder to find where she is not, than where she is. In diverse villages, as obscure as time could make them, have I lived, and I have ever noted one Mother Trattles, news-carrier to all her neigh- bour gossips within the parish ; one that had art to tell a tale with winks and nods ; yea, so excellent were these old trots in invention, as they could make one and the self-same tale, told in disgrace of one neighbour to another, with a little alteration, as pleasing to the latter as the former. It pleased, therefore, the Spartan orator to call them brands, because raisers of civil differences and heart- burns one with another. Brands indeed, as well to public states as private families, whose many ruins will witness, that though the wound be healed the scar remains, still harbouring that viper within them, that preyed on them ; so miserable was their fate, to cherish her which occasioned their fall. Rightly did he say, that termed them antipodes to all good men, because they walk always in a path opposite to the trace of virtue, being as indirect in their courses as uncharitable in their censures. For judgment, they as much disclaim it as those that are professed enemies unto it; so much for conceit they think only requisite, as may detract from merit and add to disgrace. The Athenian termed them owls, haters of light, bats, recreants to their own, Sacrabees, ever feed- ing on ulcerous flesh; aptly displaying their natures by these borrowed names. But for their place of being, as they ever love to insinuate into their acquaintance of the eminentest persons, so they make them the usualest subjects of their discourse ; wherein they use to compare their actions and parts with their progenitors, whose virtues they make as transcendent as they disvalue the com- mendable qualities of those now present; and, which is more remarkable, though they be altogether ignorant of Avhat their an- 63 ^ fcestors did, yet express they their actions in dispraise of their suc- cessors, as by ocular experience they knew what they did. Far be my thoughts estranged from conversing or commercing with these men; yea, may I rather not speak, than detract from the virtues of the least eminent by speaking. I have ever wished that my speeches might tend rather to edification of some, than imputation to any ; for so free have my intentions been from public or private calumny, as my invention (ever grounded on a probable truth) hath ever seated and settled itself on the serious commending of goodness, with a modest improving of what was vicious ; yea, I may safely avow (out of a sincere confidence within me), that I never saw the man Avho could worthily tax me in this kind : indeed poesy, which one of the fathers pleased to term Vinum dcEmonum, not because it cheers, but charms sin, may seem sometime to sa- tirize, when it is personal application, not the author's intention, which makes his poem a satire ; rightly therefore was that resolve of the Greek poet grounded : At him ray satire aims. Whose application claims That it to him was sent, Howsoever it was meant. And that again of the golden moralist : Satires are like to images in wax, Taxing such men whose guilt themselves doth tax. For my part, I have been ever so religious an observant of my friend, as I wish rather not to live, than by my lines to lose any man's love ; especially when I esteem (with that divine sage) my friend's life my best of human glory, and his good name the essen- tialest part of his life ; but wonder I cannot chuse (for else should 64 I wonder at my own stupidity) how any should harbour the least conceit of an intended detraction by me, or by my labours, unless my title of DeviP imply so much, which may seem to have affinity with that which the Greeks term hutoxy). detraction. But I hope the judicious, whose censures have not their dependance on titles but essences, types but truths, are resolved of the remoteness of my thoughts from such an ungenerous condition ; meantime, as the intentions of my soul are grounded on a more settled foundation than the opinion of that monster multitude, so shall my studies ever be directed for the satisfactory delight and profit of the generous. I am now drawing from the world ; heavens forbid that I should prove such a servile observer of the world, as to prize her favours before my fortunes in another world. In brief, as I am now learn- ing how to number my days, so will I take a strict account of the expense of my hours, that my days, well numbered, may bring me to the length of days never to be summed ; that my hours, well expended, may bring me to joys, ia that last hour, never to be ended : so shall those virtues, which I have in others admired, move me to imitation ; those vices, which I have observed in others, enforce in me a detestation. Male de me loquuntur sed mall; moverer si de me M. Cato, si Lelius sapiens, si duo Scipiones ista loquerentur : nunc malis displicere laudari est. — Seneca ad Galion. de remed. fortuit. ' A pleasant poem by the author, long since published* ; and by some no less censoriously than causelessly taxed. * 1615. Edit. FINIS. RESOLVES I OFFER KD before the sacrifice of my tears: now remains the pro- secution of my Resolves ; that as the first were symbols and signals of my conversion and contrition, so the latter might be persuasive motives of my firmer resolution. Dry be those tears of repentance, which are not seconded by a zealous continuance, sith the perfec- tion of virtue is perseverance ; and fruitless is that zeal, which, like the seed in the parable, is either by the thorny cares of the world choked, by the heat of persecution parched, or by stony impeni- tency and obduracy withered. I will therefore, by the power of Him that made me, so form my resolution, that I may find a com- fortable friend in the day of my dissolution ; so shall the hour of my death be my convoy to life, my exit a conduct to a more glorious intrat, my farewel on earth to my v/elfare in heaven ; reaping, for Avhat I sowed in tears, in a plenteous harvest of joys. Thus therefore I address my Resolves, which I wish may be with like fervour received as they were composed, ministering no less matter of consolation to the devout reader, than they did of morti- fication to the penitent author. 1 resolve to fix mine eye more intentively upon my image, that my form may put me in mind of my Former. I have conversed too long with the world; I Avill fall from discourse to contemplation, from talking with the world, to con- template Him that made the world. I will no longer put my candle under a bushel, shrowding my K 66 soul's lustre with my body's cover, but will display the eminency of the one by the baseness of the other. Since it is not granted to man to love and to be wise, willingly will I incur the opinion of unwise to gain the love of Him that is solely wise. The most precious things have ever the most pernicious keepers ; which I found too true, when I made my body my soul's guardian : I will henceforth esteem more highly of such a treasure than to commit it to the trust of a traitor. 1 have observed two solstices in the sun's motion, but none in time's revolution ; I will redeem therefore my time while opportu- nity is offered, for being past she is not to be recalled. I have seen young men's love end in lust, old men's in dotage ; if ere I plant my affection, I will so wean myself from the first that my chaste youth may exempt me from the latter. Elegantly expressed was that conceit of the emperor: " For- tune hath somewhat of the nature of a woman, that if she be too much wooed, she is the farther off." I will think it therefore the best of fortune, neither to be allured by her faAvn, nor dejected by her frown, for our indifferency towards fortune makes us most fortunate. Excellent was that sovereignty, or regency of fortune, attri- buted by Livy to Cato Major : "In whom," (saith he) " there appeared such ability, both for constancy of mind and maturity of wit, as in what place soever he bore himself, he seemed to- be the moulder and maker of his own fortune." But I desire no such transcendency ; more have fallen through the height of success, than for the want of means : this is my wish, to enjoy no other means than my Saviour, who makes means for me to his Father. I have wondered at the strict accounts betwixt man and man,, while man, the image of his Creator, forgets his accounts due to God by man : I resolve to make the evening the summer up of the 67 day and morning, that my daily memorandums may direct me in my reckoning when I shall come to be accomptant for my dis- pensing. In my childhood I wished time after time to please my waggish fancy, now is my wish extended to the length of time, resolving to live to my Father's glory. It grieves me when I call to mind how those many hours of vanity, which did once delight me, shall be produced as so many witnesses to condemn me ; yet am I cheered with this resolve, that He, who moved me to this remorse for my sin, will not suffer me to make relapse into sin, nor will pronounce the judgment of death on me for my former sin. Grievous sins require grievous sighs ; I will pass therefore the remainder of my time in lamenting, as I spent the prime of my time in transgressing, so shall my tears witness my contrition, my retire from the world my conversion, that in both I may add to my soul's glory, by weaning my body from the conceit of her beauty. Each thing we see in her kind and nature; yet man, by sin a privative, degenerates from his nature primitive, opposing himself by transgressing his law that made him for himself. I have heard many call this life a pilgrimage, yet did they live in it as if it had been the sole hope of their inheritance; I resolve therefore to take in hand the active part, and leave the discursive ; do before I speak, practise mortification before I prattle of it; so shall my discourse be powerful, subsisting in the work, not Avord, not external or for fashion, but in essence and operation. I have oftentimes entered into discourse with myself, making the scope thereof venite et abite: I contemplated withal the hap- piness of those five virgins received, the misery of those five rejected : reasoning with myself what this should mean, and I found that no entr}' was admitted where the oil of grace was not infused, and that the heavenly bridegroom will be by us watchfully attended, ere we 68 be by him gloriously received. I resolved therefore to prepare a wedding garment to adorn me, a lamp fidl of oil to lighten me, and a trusty friend to direct me ; the garment of humility, the oil of charity, and my friendly conscience Avithin me. I have wondered at some men's humours, whose chiefest dis- course was ever bent on their own commendations ; for my part, the knowledge of mine own imperfections enjoin me silence, con- sidering how far I am short of that I should be, how exceeding in that which is not required of me : I have resolved therefore, by the scale of humility, to ascend to the throne of glory, making the ac- knowledgement of mj defects my directest path for the attaining of perfection. As the completest folly appears in too much compliment, so the best of wisdom is to be least popularly wise ; where opinion makes us proud, whilst privacy in knowledge makes us only known to ourselves, and no otherwise. I have found oft-times the excellentest parts shrouded in the meanest and unhandsomest covers ; which I can instance in nothing better than in the divine essence of the soul, covered with the garment of flesh. Honour is a fair bait ; but a sincere disposition will not assume it before she deserve it. The best of honour is to acknowledge ourselves unworthy of Him, to whom is ascribed all honour ; nor can we better express our worth than by confessing our own shame. Purposes and resolves may be compared to PauFs planting, and Apollo's watering; but their disposes to the blessing of God. 1 have resolved, in reflexion to my hour-glass, considering time's preciousness with his swiftness, to vie tears with her grains of sand, that my tears might (in some measure) wash away the heap of th(jse sins Avhich are multiplied like the sands. Earth as a globe in the air, the soul as a diamond in lead. 69 reason as a queen in her throne: in the first, we move arid are moved ; in the second, we shine, yet is our splendour by our bodies cover obscured ; by the last, we are distinguished from beasts, yet by her abuse we become worse than beasts. If Cffisar (saith Machiavel) had been overthrown, he would have been more odious than ever was Catiline; so strangely doth the event make indirectest actions glorious : but success doth not ever argue a direct cause, for the morning flourish of the wicked shuts up their evening in a sullen discontent. I will therefore so direct the mean that I may attain the end ; that an equal relation of one to the other may produce a necessary success in both. I have wondered why the Thracian, being a pagan, should lament his birth like a Christian; when we, that are Christians, laugh at our birth, but pule at our death like pagans. As we enter the world with a shriek, so we leave it with a sigh : the first implies what place of misery we are entering ; the other shews with what grief we leave the world in our departing. I have considered with what tranquillity and peace of con- science a soul sequestered from the world taketh her farewel of earth ; she finds no objects to distract her, she sees no friends that can withdraw her from her approaching dissolution : all seem as in a calm sea ; whilst a soul, plunged in worldly cares, grieves to leave what she did so exceedingly love. O ! may my soul so contemn the world, as she may address herself for a future Avorld ! so extend her hopes above earth, as she may reign with her Saviour after earthi As the vale best discovereth the hill, so a humble outside best displayeth a glorious soul ; vanity becometh not a wise man, much less him that should be only wise to salvation. I had never the fate to admire titles, nor hope to rise by fawn- ing on greatness ; heaven grant I may so follow Him that is only greatj that tlie choice of his attendance may purchase me a place uf perpetual residence. 70 Age cannot alter habit, nor air condition ; I do wish my age may be so well tempered that I may get that habit of virtue which cannot be depraved, those internally beautifying qualities of the mind which may not be corrupted. That is the choicest pleasure which hath only relation to virtue ; others may have appearance, but no essence, for bitter is the fruit of that pleasure which is attended on by repentance. There is no bulwark so impregnable as a spotless soul, for she can oppose all hostility inward, where the other is only for outward : as there is a continual feast to him that enjoyeth her, so there is security to him that is attended by her. Length of days is not in this vale of tears, for few be they and full of misery ; but in the tabernacle of Sion there is length of time without transition, and accomplished years without conclusion. I have collected that there is a reward for the good, as revenge for the wicked, after this life, because the sun shineth as well on the wicked as the good in this life. I have resolved therefore, that, as the temporary sun cheers me with his heat, so to dispose of my actions, that by his operation, which works in me, 1 may be ex- alted by the sun of righteousness, being made partaker of his glory. When I beheld the dew fall on the grass, by which it is nourished, 1 presently recollect how happy that soul is which is watered with the dew of God's grace, by which it is only renewed, and in her affliction comforted. It is strange that man in his travail should so often measure his grave, yet be forgetful of his end ; seven foot is his dimension, yet man liveth in that security as if that small scantling had a perpetual extension. Making each day an abstract of my life, I find by bitter ex-i perience (yet hopeful repentance) that I have spent my morning in wantonness ; now my resolve is, to redeem my morning idling 71 with my mid-day's labouring, that I may receive my penny in the evenmg. As the sun shines the brightest at his setting, so should man at his departing ; it is the evening crowns the day : happy soul, that shall be crowned when her evening is approached. Flattery is not always to praise in presence, for incur we may that name by praising in absence ; that is, when either the virtue is absent, or the occasion. As for virtue, she can neither be over-prized nor over praised: I will hate, therefore, to insinuate where virtue is not resident ; nor can he be a parasite that is her attendant. I find several perturbations to which I am exposed, divers infirmities to which naturally I am subjected. I would not follow the indiscretion of empirics, Avhich minister the same medicines to all. patients : as my griefs be sundry, proceeding from divers means, so must my receipts be sundry, if I mean to cure the effects. I will use, therefore, corrosives to eat away the hard and dead skin of impenitence; lenitives to renew and cherish my tender skin, lest I fall to despair through too much weakness. I am almost of Copernicus' opinion, who, in his theory, sup- posed that the earth did move. It moves man, indeed, to move unlike himself, becoming in his motion forgetful of his first Mover. I resolve, therefore, as many lines tend to one centre, so to aim all my soul's motions to the glory of my Maker, that earth's motion may by no means draw me from Him who first gave me motion to Serve Him. I have sometimes wished an end of my misery, lest misery, should cause my end ; but I found how foolish I was, to wish for an end of that which can no way possible have an end before my end ; for misery is an inseparable companion to man, so long as hev is man ; for, ceasing to be miserable, he becometh an angel, and no man. n He that falls from divine contemplation to take contempla- tion, to take content in the world, is as he that, after he hath beeiL fed with meat of angels, falls afterward to delight in swine's meat. Sensual desires shall not captivate my reason to the sovereignty of sense : I resolve so to live, that dying I may live ; for this life, as it is a death, so death to the good is an advantage of life. True it is, which Democritus saith : " Truth lieth hid in cer- tain deep mines or caves;" yet, being daughter to Time, she will be at last discovered, after she hath been so long distressed : never^ never ; Truth loves to be retired from the Avorld, because she sees that her favourites be few in the world ; and rather will she live a stale virgin, than bestow herself on such as Avill but make a stale of her. Man's life is a globe of examples, a shadow of imitation, where the latter day is ever scholar to the former : I wish no further knowledge than to be a perfect scholar in Christ-cross-row^ for there (as in a mirror) shall I behold God's mercy, man's misery; his misery in falling, God's mercy in raising; matter of thanks- giving in man to God, argument of affection in God to man. Long is it since I purposed my conversion ; but j^et a little and then a little, makes to-morrow as far from conversion as was yesterday. I collect hence, how powerful resolves produce ofttimes the poorest effects ; henceforth, therefore, I intend not to put off till to-morrow by idling to-day, lest I never live to repent on to- • morrow, being called on to-day. I have run a great part of my race, and am outstripped by all in the course of virtue ; what remains but that I should now strip myself of this heavy garment with which I am over-loaded, that I may put on the heavenly garment with which those happy runners (the saints) are adorned ? He tluit fails in his course cannot obtain the goal : and soon breathless am I, unless the Lord infuse his divine breath in me : I 73 will therefore run and pray ; run that I may obtain, pray that I cease not to run till I obtain. I have found how soon affliction alters the countenance of adulterate friendship ; I have a little taste of it, and experience bids me make this use of it : " Though one swallow make no summer, yet one man's summer makes many swallows:" I will seek, therefore, to gain friends after time, since most of these worldly friends are but observers of time. Pity it is, I hear some say, such a brave spirit should want ; but what a wittal was he, that through his own folly should enforce his own want with other's pity .'' Envy is better than pity in estate, not in honour ; for the decrease of honour, as she is envied before her fall, yields argument of pity, so is she ofttimes restored by being generally pitied; where estate, as she was an object of €nvy, so, piteously complaining, she remains the same, poor, without altering. I will not, like another Herodicus, do nothing all my life long, but intend my health ; for why should I bestow more care on the case than on the instrument within the case, on the body than the soul.'* No; I will reserve that moderate care for the health of my body, that, like a good instrument, it may ever yield cheerful music to the ear of my soul : so shall my soul, by the ministry of my body, conform herself in obedience to Him that made the soul to enlighten the body. ; It is strange to know what an impression of love absence breeds in the lover ; I wish the like effect in the absence of my soul from her Creator : she is here divided by the veil of her flesh ; may she be more firmly united to him in spirit; she is here a prisoner ; may her desires pierce through these walls of earth, and express their fervency to the God of Heaven ; she is here a pilgrim; may her scrip be humility, her weed sanctity, her staff charity, and her food the nourishing milk of the word ; she is an exile ; may she hasten to her native country, cheerfully leaving this vale of 74 misery ; she is an orphan ; may she address herself thither where reigns the widow's judge, and orphan's father. Abide here (O my soul !) let this be thy retreat ; cheer thy spirit (O my soul !) with this eternal receipt; he it is that from perils past hath preserved thee, in perils present hath armed thee, against perils to come hath forewarned thee. He it is invites thee fore-slowing, expects thee opposing, recals thee straying, and embraces thee returning. He it is that protects thee resting, assists thee labouring, exhorts thee fighting, and crowns thee vanquishing : fore-slow not, therefore, since He invites thee; oppose him not, since He expects thee ; stray no farther, since He recals thee; but return with speed, that He may embrace thee. Rest thou mayest with joy, being so pro- tected ; labour in hope, being so assisted ; fight with courage, being so excited ; and vanquish with comfort, being to be crowned. We must pass through a wilderness to Canaan; this wilder- ness is the wide world. O may my soul never murmur, though hunger should annoy her, thirst afflict her, all perturbations inclose her : yea, let her rather say with Job ; " I believe that my Re- deemer liveth, and that with these eyes I shall see him : " happy eyes, that are made contemplators of such exceeding glory ; O, may my eyes grow dim with weeping, to be afterwards partakers of so glorious a vision ! I resolve now to bid farewel to the world before I leave it, that being in it, I may not be of it. There is no affinity between the citizens of Mammon and Sion : I will fall by a loathing of the one, to an unfeigned loving of the other, that, in contempt of this world, I may make my account more free in the world to come. I will make the world's folly my chiefest policy ; soul wise, without desire of sole wise or self wise. May humility henceforth conduct me ; for conceit of knowledge, through an opinionate arro- gance, hath made me many times glory in my own ignorance. I had rather be imprisoned in the flesh, than by the flesh ; for so I be freed in mind, I little care though I be imprisoned in 75 body; since restraint of the one enlargeth the liberty of the other Whether, therefore, at freedom or restrained, I resolve so to live, that my conscience may be a testimony how I have lived, making in prison better use of my grate, than the courtesan of her glass ; for there will I note the blemishes of my soul, while she the spots and moles in her face ; there shall I learn how to live, how to die for my Creator; while she how to love, how to dye her colour different from Avhat was given her by her Maker. He that seeks to prevent that which cannot be avoided, flies into Adam's grove to sconce himself from God's judgment. I find this approved when I labour to be exempted from the stroke of death, which can by no means be prevented, whose doom as it is certain, so is his date uncertain ; knock he will, but at what time I know not: I will therefore so set all things in order before he come, that he may find me provided when he comes. I Avould be loath to be taken napping ; I will therefore so address myself every hour, that I may cheerfully embrace death in my last hour, receiving him not with fear, as a guest that will be of necessity harboured, but with a friendly welcome, as one by whom I shall be to a secure harbour conducted. Death, as he is importunate, so is he eminent ; fearful to the rich, but cheerful to the poor : for affliction breeds a loathing in living, an accomplished content in dying; knowing that there is an end of misery apportioned by death, which was not granted to man during life. I wish so to live that my life may be an argument that I did live; sith life without emplojrment (the essence of man's life) hath more affinity with death than life. As my God is Alpha and Omega, being my Alpha begun in the kingdom of grace, so he will be my Omega, accomplished in the kingdom of glory : the last day of my living, the first day of my reigning ; the hour of my body's descension into earth, the hour of my soul's ascension into heaven. FINIS. 76 THE HEAVENLY EXERCISE OF THE FIVE SENSES, COUCHED IN A DIVINE POEM. Let eye, ear, touch, taste, smell, let every sense Employ itself to praise his providence, Who gave an eye to see j but why was't given ? To guide our feet on earth, our souls to heaven : An ear to hear ; but what ? no jest o'th' time, Vain or profane, but melody divine : A touch to feel; but what? griefs of our brother. And to have a fellow-feeling one of other : A taste to relish ; what ? man's sovereign bliss ; " Come, taste and see the Lord, how sweet he is :" A smell to breathe j and what ? flowers that afford All choice content, the odours of his word.. " If our Five Senses' thus employed be, '• We may our Saviour smell, taste, touch, hear, see." UPON HIS RESOLVES. May I resolve, so my resolves express, That th' world may see I am what I profess. May earth be my last care, my heart on Him, Whose cross 's my crown, whose Son did salve my sin. * Alluding to that sacred-secret mystery of his five wounds curing and crowning our Five Senses. THE AUTHOR'S OPINION OF MARRIAGE. DELIVERED IN A SATISFYING dL-VRACTER TO HIS FRIEND, UPON HIS THEN HAPPY SOLEMNIZED SPOUSALS WITH HIS DEAR PANARETE. Sir, As I am no Timon, so am I no marriage-affecting libertine; I will labour therefore to satisfy your demands exactly, making ex- perience my directress, whose late familiarity hath instructed me in this positive doctrine. As it repenteth me not to know it now, so it little repenteth me not to have known it before now ; for as the present estate adds to my content, so my former want (perhaps) kept me from discontent. I perceive no such thing as bondage in marriage, only a restraint from bachelor sensuality, which merits not the name of servitude, but liberty. Upon consideration had of two estates, I account marriage concurring nearer with perfec- jfetion, and I ground my opinion upon no worse probability than the arithmetician's maxim, numbers have their beginning, but not perfection, from unities ; yet exclude I not these two, individually united, from that incomparable effect of marriage unity. Content I find more accomplished where minds are consorting, -for single- ness includes rather the condition of an anchorite, than of one affecting society : this better for procreation, that for contempla- tion. There is no felicity (if earth may be said to enjoy it) like a 78 fellow-helper, and no fellow-helper equal to a faithful bosom friend. I am neither for committing secrets nor concealing them, till I find an aptness to conceal, or faith to reserve. I find Mysogenes' opinion gross and erroneous, touching the secrecy of a woman ; a faithful wife cannot choose but be a good secretary. She makes her husband's reputation her principal subject, and chooseth rather to die than it should die. Her acquaintance is not popular, nor craves she rather to be seen what she wears, than to be known what she is. Virtue is her best habit, and her garnish is beholden more to nature than art. She affects no colours, doing well with- out pretence of glory, affecting what is good without desire of applause. I have been in a strange error, and it much repents me of it ; where imagination suggested to me, wedlock could not be without some aspersion of lust ; for I perceive the sanctity and purity of rite adds more to content than the outward delight ; it relisheth more of the spirit than the flesh : he that feels another effect in marriage, he is more brutish than reasonable. The best purchase is a good wife, and the worst is her contrary. I have commended Arminius' opinion, and have long embraced it, whose conceit was so much removed from the affection of marriage, as he censured him dead to earth's comforts that took himself to any other bed-fellow than his own mind to converse Avith. But I ex- claim now upon that heresy; I find my mind strengthened by conference, and that proceeds with best grace and consonance from a faithful mate. I will not trust her with my body, whom I dare not make partner of my mind ; and though the excellency of the one surpass the frailty of the other, yet will I not commend the one where I dare not commit the other. For frailty of sexes, I conceive how apt man is to judge sinisterly of the weaker vessel, and I impute it either to a want of brains, in that they cannot dive into the excellency of so pure and exquisite a composition, or some hard hap they have had in making choice of such infirm creatures. 79 I have found one, though weak by condition, yet firm in her affec- tion, making her resolves so undoubtedly approved by him she loves, as she hath vowed to engross her love to none save him she only loves. Her content is so settled as she scorns to have it divided, for she knows that a heart divided cannot live. She pro- fesseth herself to be not where she lives, but where she loves ; and the adamant, which draws her to affection, is the persuaded ground she entertains of her husband's disposition, which is too choice to be popular, and too relenting not to be won ; as mere protestations were not of force to win her, so flattery was too palpable a suitor to woo her. Content is worth a kingdom, and my kingdom is my own family, Avhere I make every day my account, casting up in the evening what I did in the day, I think my day well bestowed if employed in the service of my Creator, and my conclusion is this : I will be none of that family which is not careful of promoting God's glory. Marriage melody should have no concurrence with divisions ; though music be graced by it, marriage distastes it. I have wondered hoAv two distinct bodies can be so inseparably united, and I perceive the strange, and indeed unsearchable, effects of marriage, Avhich consists not so much in the joining hands as hearts. Therefore is a sympathy equally working, equally moving in the parties loving ; nor is it beauty, or any external motive so much enchaineth, as a sacred secret infusion, conceived by an holy and heavenly influence, induceth. I have heard how that " When the hawthorn springs, and the cuckow sings, Actaeon's head with hornets rings'." It is true, indeed, jealousy is such a self-consuming vermin as it never rests day nor night from feeding her suspicious head with fruitless and frivolous doubts. But I would not have one, subject to this miserable frenzy, betake himself to such fuel of jealousy as a woman. For my part, as I was never capable of such vain suspect, so conclude I ever, I had rather be one and ' Lycostheu. in Apophth. 80 think me none, than be ilohe and think me one, contenting myself with a general fate, rather than incur disquiet by my own default ; which that glory of Greece, the ever-living Homer\ seems wittily to glance at in the person of Telemaclius : Babe, saith my dad, but he may say amiss ; For ought that I know, I am none of his : Yet, I reply with dad ; but that's all one, I may mistake my sire, and he his son. . There is no order so ancient, nor more maligned : honour hath many times correspondence with her, and foreign merchants may be confident their pinnace is entitled to many factors. Stratta Julia had never more brothels in her than she hath clamorous suitors attending on her: yet Avhat cannot resolved patience bear? My advice is to him whose suspicion hath already pronounced him horn mad, to make use of Ithacus' counsel to Andromache, in be- half of her tender infant Astyanax. Conceal him, that's the best means to save him. Oft-times jealousy publisheth man's shame more than the occasion of his shame. A wise man will rather con- ceive and conceal, than disclose his conceit to others' report: the best of reputation is grounded on opinion free from suspicion, and he is an egregious wittal that loves to watch opportunity to add to his discontent ; my eyes are no such sentinels, charity bids me judge the best, and I will rather expound my wife's secret parley, some instructions of housewifery, than motives of perverted liberty. I have sometimes wondered at the folly of Hans Carvile's dream, applying to myself the use that I might better avoid the end, where every feigned and imaginary conceit argues an apparency of act ; but I doubt not such bugbears, they are terrors to suspicious heads, scarecrows to addle brains. Beauty shall never be such an idol as to enforce my adoration, or so bewitching a hag as to ' Homer, in Telemach. in OHyss. enthral me to suspicion. As a safe conscience is a perpetual friend to stick near us, a continual feast to cheer us, and a brazen Avail to shield us, so is a faithful bosom friend the lovingest companion, the dearest minion, and the individualest union ; a companion to refresh us, a minion to delight us, and such an union as will inseparably join us. I little weigh the woman haters of our age, Avhose subject is ever in dispraise of women ; they shew the unworthiness of their nature in satirising upon the Aveaker. As chastity is rare and in- comparable, marriage state hath been ever deemed honourable. He that will not marry, and will not withdraw his eyes from vanity, let him burn, such objects are either subjects of love or lust ; if of love, then happy is the lover ; if of lust, miserable is the beholder, I remember that noble matron's motto, " Where thou art Caius, I am Caia :" and I make no question of the like choice. I have read of divers Avomen, Avho, as they Avere delightful to their hus- bands in bed and board, so added they delight to the labouring inventions of their brain. Such a one enjoyed Cato in his Portia, Seneca in his Paulina, Marc Antony in his Octavia : yea, the best labours have been illustrated, if not originally composed, by married Avomen ; Avitness those divine poems reducet^l to Centons by Theo- dosia, daughter to the Emperor Theodosius, the royal compositions of Lucane, the sententious measures of Ennius, the tragic odes of Aristobulus, Avhich labours (though they retain the name of these authors) Avere revised and refined by Avomen. I perceive the Avisest may err, and Solomon himself may fail in his judgment, making this interrogation, " But as for a good Avoman, Avhere is she to be found ?" but his question imported rather a difficulty than an impossibility, Avhich he had some cause to speak, seeing Avomen Avere the cause of his idolatry. A good man must of necessity make his Avife of like quality : she is casten in his mould ; let Wm blame himself then if she be not good. Beauty is one of the least motives to fancy ; Avho more admires a smooth skin than a sound mind, may gain content in his Avife's M 82 prime, but shall lose it in her age : I care not how poor her out- side be, so her inside be pure. I never set my affection on marriage to strengthen me with friendship, my aim was the woman, and the grounds of my love were her mind's endowments. I sought not in her what the gallant seeks in his, a minced speech, a ginger pace, or a drawing eye ; I found her speech able to deliver her meaning, her pace quick enough in her employing, and her eye too modest to love gadding, A good wife is the best portion : nor consists this her goodness only in proportion ; she that is only outward fair de- serves more to be lothed than loved, despised than pleased : a case beautifies the instrument, but adds nothing to her accent ; and goodness is more continuate than beauty. I could never approve of that shape which derives her beauty from the shop ; there is an innate decency that better becomes us, and above all comparison doth better grace us : it is not toys, tires, dressings, but a personal comeliness adds honour to our clothing, I have much admired man's folly, whose commendations only extend to what they were, not what they are. I will never tie myself to such impertinences, nor can with judgment esteem the rind for comely, where the pith re- lisheth corruptly. It is not worth our praise to say, such an one is fair; that is no quality, but an adjunct; give me one good, I much weigh not any other attribute, for good is a better attribute than fair. As I have chosen, so I repent me not of my choice : I have planted my resolution thus, nor hope I to alter it. The strange wo- man shall not allure me, nor the court's idol, a painted face, inveigle me ; I am now for one, and that one is all. Methinks marriage, as it is a type betwixt Christ and his Church, the state politic and her head ; so it is a nearer combining of the body to the soul. The soul hath promised for the body that she shall not make herself a cage of unclean birds, not prostitute herself to many; and the body hath so tied her by plighting her faith by her hand, that she will inviolably perform what her soul hath promised. Sir, God send you joy. THE DISTINCT TITLES OF THESE CONTEMPLATIONS 1. THE SOUL'S SOLE LOVE. 2. THE WOUNDED HEART. 3. THE NEW DRESS. WITH LOVE'S LEGACY; OR, PANARETE'S BLESSING TO HER CHILDREN. 1. THE BURIAL OF THE OLD JVLVN. 2. PHmARETUS HIS INSTRUCTION TO HIS SON. 3. or LOOSE LOVE, WITH LOVE'S CHOICE. :^« CONTEMPLATIONS OF PANARETE. ADDRESSED AS A VOTIVE MANUAL TO HER LIVING MEMORY. " While here thy contemplations are approv'd, " Thou contemplatest Him whom here thou lov'd." THE SOUL'S SOLE LOVE. CONTEMPLATION I. Thou hast, my dear soul, engaged thy faith ; thou hast betaken thyself to thine heavenly spouse. A divided heart cannot live, how ^houldst thou live without thy sole love ? Adulterate colours cannot hold ; nor adulterine affections retain their colour. Jezabel's fea- ture Avas more beholden to art and nature. Such is the complexion of that love which makes lust her lure : vain is such a tincture, that makes a servile desire her applier ; maiden honour consists not in formahty, there is ever something more real in it. Flourishes are but painted blossoms ; they may work upon the outward sense, they cannot captivate the reason. The inward beauty is of more extent than any outward varnish. Thou hast reason, O my soul ! to pre- serve that which solely makes thee graceful to thy spouse. Conceit nothing seemly but what may beseem him that made thee. Thou art not made for a slavish fancy, thou hast one sole love : to cleave to another were a frenzy. Affection is no tennis-ball, for struck into another's hazard it is lost. One sun cannot shine in two 86 spheres, nor one sphere contain two suns. The sun of righteousness is the sphere of my soul ; she is a planet when she shines elsewhere. Graces are divine beamlins, the inward house is dark without them, and these shine most when least interposed with any earthly clouds. What is it (O my soul !) to sparkle hke a glow-worm by night, or like rotten wood to send forth a deceiving splendour ? What is it, with a gloss of dissembled purity, to take the eyes or ears of erring judgments? Thou hast within thee to witness for thee, or condemn thee. Then, even then, my soul, when the great book shall be opened, the secret cabinet of the retiredest thoughts unlocked, and no subterfuge for guilt admitted, thou shalt find that good works must pass for ill, being not done well. The intention then must crown the action. Alms with a trumpet, fasting with a dejected countenance, praying and tithing with a Pharisaical affiance, must have no acceptance. Be thy discipline never so severe, if it be not sincere it receives no reward. Honour must not be thine harbour, if devout intentions crown not thy labour. Reflect on thy sweet spouse, and meditate of his pilgrimage on earth : he offered his childhood to a cratch, his youth to care, his manhood to the cross. He entered the world naked, he lived in it despised, and went from it with sorrows burdened. There Avas nothing so grievous which was ]iot with patience suffered by him, to make thee gracious in His sight who sent him. Shall a little cloud then change thy countenance? Shall a minute's distaste amate thee, or make thee forgetful of his sufferings, who subjected himself to death for thee? Who ever enjoyed a sweeter spouse? He confirmed his love with the loss of his life ; and shall every small cross in this life divide thee from his love? " Behold, and see," saith thy dispassionate spouse, " if there were ever sorrow like to my sorrow \" No, my sole love, needs must thy sorrow be great, when with the offering up of thine own precious life thou couldst hardly gain any love. The rocks were dissolved, the temple divided, the graves opened, the 87 heavens darkened, all the elements suffered; yet man, for whom thou became man and died, became most hardened. Lost wert thou, O my soul ! and eternally lost, and to regain thee he lost his own life : such were those adamantine ties of his immutable love. Many sheep he had, and those he left to seek the lost; so plente- ously did those roseat torrents of his sacred compassion flow, to wash away those crimson-dyed sins, which had left that dying tincture in thy wounded soul. How often hath he sought to gather thee, and thou wouldest not ? to espouse thee to himself, and thou assented not.'* to bring thee to his marriage-feast, and thou attended not.? Meantime, when thou sawest a thief, thou run with him, and with the adulterer divided thy portion ; both which, with the cords of iniquity, drew thee headlong to perdition. Conceivest thou yet no compassion of thine unhappy condition .? Shall not one poor tear witness thy contrition ? Wilt thou become of thy wounds so altoge- ther unsensible as by the want of sense to make them uncurable .'' Run to the rock and quench thy thirst with those living streams which flow from it ; apply thy mouth to the hole of the pipe, that thou may est be refreshed. Beg of him water, who shed for thee water and blood ; dry eyes will not bring thee to heaven. Sin is of such a deep stain, as true penitential tears are of only force to take away that dye. Thou seest the turtle how she mourneth for the loss of her mate : the desert becomes her recluse ; consort she will not with any, fearing to forget the occasion of her misery ; browze she will not, nor rest nor roost on any green branch ; griefs are her inseparable companions, other consorts she admits not, be- cause they suit not with her condition. Contemplate these, O my soul! and reflect upon thyself; let thine eyes be estranged from sleep ; let sighs and groans be thy food ; water thy couch with in- cessant rivers of tears. Great sins require great sighs, perilous sores precious salves. Consider, poor soul ! where thou art placed, with what innumerable dangers inclosed ! Again, how those which 88 were given thee for defence, are most ready to betray thee to thine enemy ! Again, reflect upon the benignity of thy good God ; who, if he had been as ready to punish thee for thy sin, as thou hast been to commit sin, had long since drenched thee down into that bottomless pit of eternal bitterness : death had been thy due, and hell thy portion. And canst thou now look upon thyself without loathing, or consider thy woful estate without trembling ? Was ever any one more bound to his Maker, and less thankful ? more Avatered with the sweet influence of his grace, and less fruitful ? In no place couldest thou promise to thyself peace; within fears, without fights : yet have the wings of the Almighty been so graciously spread over thee, as neither fear could oppress thee at home, nor fury surprise thee abroad. And this was His work, who hath so constantly loved thee as he would never leave thee ; for whensoever thou wandered, he called thee ; when ignorant, he taught thee ; when thou sinned, he corrected thee; when sad, he comforted thee; when desperate, he supported thee ; when fallen, he raised thee ; when standing, he held thee ; when walking, he guided thee ; when returning, he re- ceived thee ; when sleeping, he kept thee ; when crying, he heard thee. What wilt thou render then, O my soul! to Him who hath done such wonderful things for thee.'' Wilt thou stay in the market- place idling? Wilt thou address thyself to no employment in thy calling? Is it enough for thee to retain the style of a Christian, and, presuming upon that style, to corrupt the state of a Christian ? Wilt thou make thy whole life a holyday, and by thy profane con- versation close it up with a fearful day ? Wilt thou not yet, after so many sweet invitations to allure thee, so many sharp commina- tions to deter thee, such gentle touches on thy right hand and on thy left, break these bonds of thy transgressions, and return to that overflowing fountain of divine compassions? It is fearful, thou knowest, to fall into the hands of the Lord ; for who is he in all the world so just, that he may with confidence presumed to be 89 saved, if God's mercy (the sole salve of human misery) be from him removed ? Yea, know, O my soul ! that thy justice consists in God's indulgence, Avho hath an ear open for thee if thou cry unto him, an arm to embrace thee if thou fly unto him, an heart to receive thee if thou return unto him, an hand to succour thee if thou come to him, a wing to cover thee if thou cleave to him ; and wilt thou still feed on the husks of vanity, and despise those dehcious cates of eternity ? Shall one poor moment of fading pleasure deprive thee of those joys which last for ever ? By enjoying thy spouse thou enjoyest all things ; his presence will be meat to thee hungering, drink to thee thirsting, health to thee languishing, way to thee wandering, light to thee erring, life to thee dying. Be he then to thee all things, seeing without him all things are nothing. All things are vanity, save only to please God and serve him ; and such a service is a christian solace, without which, as all things are vanity, so man, of all others, the lightest vanity. How canst thou then be at peace without him, since he only, in the bond of peace, unites all that are espoused unto him ? If man love man with such affection, as the one scarce suffers the other to be absent; if a spouse to her spouse be joined with such an ardour of mind, as through the excess of her love she can take no rest, brooking the absence of her beloved, not without great sorrow; then with what affection, with what desire, with what fervorous devotion oughtst thou, O my soul ! whom thy best spouse hath espoused to himself in faith and mercy, to love him, thy true God, and most beautiful spouse, Avho hath so loved and saved thee, who hath done so many, so great, and exceeding things for thee? Why stayest thou, O my soul ! findest thou ought here worthy of thy love ? Wilt thou ever, ta thy bane, be nibbling at the bait of vanity ? Hast thou not found much bitterness in these deceiving shadows of human happiness .'' Have not thy delights been most crossed, wherein they looked to be most cheered ? Yea, when thou enjoyed thy delights to be full, N 90 had they not ever bitterness in their farewell ? Take a short survey of the days of thy vanity, and see what day in all thy pilgrimage hath been so propitious as it was not encountered with some dis- contents. Hath not a merry evening made an heavy morning ? nor a glad going out a sad returning ? Didst hear no report of a private foe, nor no death of a constant friend ? Were thy affairs so well carried as nothing miscarried ? And admit all this ; how long did this calm continue ? Had this forward spring no nip ? If not, then so much more unhappy in being ever so seeming happy. The saints and the servants of God do in this world more fear prosperity than adversity ; for that the height of prosperity is in danger more to press them, than the weight of adversity to depress them. These through many tribulations passed, and passing profited, and profit- ing prevailed, and prevailing were victoriously crowned. If the devil be dead, then are persecutions dead ; but so long as our ad- versary lives, .canst thou think that he will not suggest to thee tentations ? The enemy ceaseth not, dieth not, but in the resurrec- tion of the dead. Short is the fight, but great is the victory. Learn then from that vessel of election to " rejoice in hope of the glory of God; and not only so, but to glory in tribulations also, knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience hope ; and hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given unto us'." O divine gradation ! O gracious consolation ! If thine heart then be right, O my soul, Avhatsoever shall befall thee, thou wilt rejoice in it for his sake who sent it thee ; and conclude with that pattern of patience : " The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord*." Pitch upon this resolve, O my soul ! and thy sweet spouse will " stay thee Avith flagons, comfort thee with apples'." Nothing shall " separate thee from the love of Christ ; neither tribulation, nor distress, nor per- ' Rom. 5. «Jobl. 3 Cant. 2. 91 secution, nor famine, nor nakedness, nor peril, nor sword'." For, ** who is he that will harm thee, if thou be follower of that which is good^?" Betake thyself then to thy beloved spouse, and he will give thee thine heart's desire. None can take thee forth of his hand, nor divide thee from his heart. The dehghts and riches of an heaven-ravished spirit are divine songs, where tears are not with- out joy, nor sighs Avithout comfort. Now, my good Jesu, if it be so sweet to weep for thee, how sweet will it be to rejoice with thee ? Whatsoever then I shall feel, by the presence and assistance of thy grace, I will not fail to give thee thanks in my suffering, equally as in my rejoicing ; " for I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us'." To confirm this resolve, 'and inflame thy desires, retain the memory of his presence ever with thee, who gave himself for thee. Let thy conversation be in heaven, during this thy pil- grim-reside on earth. So delight thee in him, as no delight may take thee from him ; then mayest thou freely say, " My beloved is mine, and I am his : he feedeth among the lillies * :" among the lillies of chastity, borders of sanctity. Follow thy love with chaste thoughts, and thou shalt live with him in glory. THE WOUNDED HEART. CONTEMPLATION II. Shall the hart long after the water brooks, when he is with thirst annoyed ? or fly to the herb to cure him, when he is wounded ? jflnd shall my thirsty heart (the princely seat of my mind) never fly to those living streams of ever flowing waters ? Sick she is, and heart sick, and will she never repair to her best physician, in whose heart is a fatherly care, and in whose hand a speedy cure? Will ' Rom. 8. . M Pet. 3. ' Rom. 8. * Cant. 2. 92 she never taste of that herb of grace to ease her griefs, cure her wounds, and restore her decayed spirits? Whence is it, O my benumbed heart, that thou art become so insensible of thine own misery, as thus to make thy wounds uncurable through thy security? Why dost thou not cry out, in the bitterness of thy soul, with that afflicted patient, and memorable mirror of patience : " Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life to the bitter in soul' ?" For thus by meditating of griefs, thou wouldst sooner labour for relief, and seasonably partake of comfort after thy long affliction : for who can search into the source of thy sorrows, or know the depth of thy griefs or joys, unless thyself discover them ? " The heart knoweth his own bitterness ; and a stranger doth not inter- meddle with his joy^" The way to cure thy wounds is to open them ; the way to ease thy heart, is to discover the sorrows of it. Shouldst thou, with that sacred and elect vessel, be pressed (and happy thou if so afflicted) out of measure, above strength, insomuch as thou shouldst despair of life, call but upon the Lord, and he will deliver thee\ For he, and only he, can heal the broken spirit, comfort the contrite soul, and make the bones which he hath broken to rejoice. For he it is, who is the hope of the desperate, the comfort of the desolate. Weep he cannot, who is so solaced ; fail he shall not, who is so succoured. Apply thyself then to Him, O my wounded heart! and repose thee in his wounds, for they are full of compassion ; rely on his promises, for they sound nothing but consolation. Shouldst thou, O my languishing heart ! be driven to that extremity, as thou could find no comfort within thee, no hope of relief without thee, nothing but clouds of heaviness to encompass thee, none but Job's messengers to encounter thee, shouldst thou roar forth in the bitterness of thy soul, — " How long wilt thou not depart from me ? (how long wilt thou thus afflict me ?) nor let me alone till I swallow down my spittle \''" Yea, should thy ' Job 3. '' Pao. 14. ^2 Cor. 1. -» Job 7. 93 belly tremble, thy lips quiver at his voice, should rottenness enter into thy bones, and thy strength fail', yet would the hand of the Almighty, by disclaiming thine own power, and flying to his mercyj so support thee, as thou shouldst not fall. But thou art wounded j O mine heart ; and oh, I wish that thou wert sensibly wounded ! Meantime, let the desires of thy roaring entrails beat at the gate of his compassions. Let the cries of the tears of thine eyes, poured forth with fervor of affection, pierce the clouds, and seal to thy numerous sins a gracious remission. that thou wert so pure, that thy dear and loving spouse would say vmto thee : " Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse : thou hast ravished mine heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck'*.^' O fly unto Him, and thou shalt find this love in Him! Let the world have no part nor portion in thee. He is jealous of thy love : thou must love him only, if thou love him trul}-. A divided love, because distracted in her object, cannot live. Fixed must thy resolves be, and those for eternit}- , if thou mean ever to reign with him in glory. She deserves not a loving spouse, that is not faithful in her love ta her spouse. To keep thy nuptial bed undefiled, is an honour; to violate that faith thou hast plighted, were piacular. Two hearts cannot rest in one breast, but two souls may repose in one heart. Thou hast often vowed to keep thyself to one, and 'He thine only one : and how soon were those sweet vows made bitter, when thine eyes, taken Avith outward objects, begun to wander.'' Tell me (my wounded heart) who was ever sick, and knew himself so, and desired not health ? who were wounded, and sought not for cure 3 Now, if outward discontents occasion such care, what should our inward griefs do, which minister hourly occasions of greater fear. Thou hast long suffered, and desired to be solaced ; but thou sought not where comfort was to be found ; and, therefore, thou found not that which thou sought. The place or repose of an humane .; ' Habac. 3. " Cant. 4. 94 or natural heart, consists in the dehght of this present hfe. But no sooner is the heart touched with divine aspiration, than the seat of our heart becomes the love of eternity, and receipt of heavenly consolation. That heart is truly styled the friend of truth, which is a lover and approver of every right action, and makes heaven the sole object of her contemplation. The truest proof of love is the fruit of a good life. Divine love consists not in voice and air. Should thy voice sound like a trumpet, and thy life be silent, all this airy music would give but a dead accent. Thy tongue praiseth for an hour ; let thy life praise for ever. For, as divine praise in the mouth of a profane sinner can send forth no sweet smelling savour ; and prayer, the only precious pearl of a pure soul, returns without fruit, when hypocrisy seizeth on the heart ; and all human wisdom becomes folly, being not directed to God's glory : so, unless thou, O my wounded heart ! only love God for himself, thy mixed and divided love can return no comfort nor profit to thyself. It is this divine and purely-refined love, which only makes a rich and wise soul. For, without this, " what hath the wise more than the fool? what hath the poor, that knoweth to walk before the living' ?" Whatsoever is by thee, O my languishing heart, above all others affected, is by thee adored. Prefer nothing in the true value of love, before Him that made thee, lest thou make an idol of the creature, and so dishonour Him who made all inferior things to serve thee. Do thou his will by serving Him, and all his creatures will serve thee according to his will. Yea, even He who hath commanded the morning, and caused the day-spring to know his place^, shall shew the light of his countenance upon thee, and thy longing ears shall hear that voice of comfort uttered by thine heavenly spouse, the fountain of all comfort : " Thou art all fair, my love ; there is no spot in thee'. And in the affiance of his love to whom thou art espoused, shall thy wounded heart, then cured, '■ Eccles. 6. '■ Job 38. » Cant. 4. 95 return this answer to thy beloved : " My beloved is mine, and I am his'/' " His left hand shall be under my head, and his right hand shall embrace me'*." THE NEW DRESS ; OR, MOTIVES TO A NEW LIFE. CONTEMPLATION III. O, MY soul, how long wilt thou attire thyself in these rags of sin.? how long in these robes of shame.? When thine heavenly bridegroom comes, he will not endure to look on thee; He can by no means like thee, nor love thee, nor espouse himself unto thee, so long as these sullied garments of sin cover thee. To a clean Lord must be a clean habitation. A pure heart must be his mansion, purged by faith, adorned with good works, inflamed with heavenly thoughts. No edging of vanity, no pearl of vain-glory, no tinsel- lustre of hypocrisy, must set forth thy nuptial garment ; for these Avould detract from thy virgin beauty. Those Egyptian laces, and Babylonian borders, might attract a wandering eye, but purely fixed be the eyes of thy spouse. Whatsoever is without thee can- not take Him; it is thine inward beauty that doth dehght Him. Let thy affections then be renewed, thy virgin beauty restored, thy decays repaired. Come not in his sight till thou hast put off those rags of sin, and having put them off, say with the spouse in the Canticles : " I have put off my coat, how shall I put it on'.?" Let thy new dress be a new heart, so shall thy spouse take delight in thee, with his SAveet arms embrace thee, and be enamoured of thee when he looks on thee; and, in the knoAvledge of thy beauty, say thus unto thee ; " Thou art all fair, my love, there is no spot in thee*." Cast thine eye all about thee, O my soul, but let it not ' Cant. 2. * Cant. 8. ' Cant. 5. 3. ♦ Cant. 4. 7. 96 wander, lest thou lose thine honour. Take a full view of the renewal of all creatures, and reflect upon thyself, who, though sovereigness over all, becomes least renewed of all. Thou seest the hart, the eagle, the swallow, how they are renewed ; nay, even the snake, how by casting his slough he is renewed. Again, thou observest how years, days, hours, and minutes, are renewed; how the earth itself is renewed. She is with fresh flowers adorned, with a native tapestry embroidered, with a new beauty refreshed. Mean- time, how art thou renewed ? Where be those fresh fragrant flowers of divine graces, and permanent beauties, wherewith thou shouidst be adorned ? Must all things change for better, and thou become ever worse in the sight of thy Maker.? None more in- constant than thou in humouring the fashions of our time ; none more constant than thou in retaining the fashion of sin. What canst thou see in thee that may please thee, or appear pleasing to him that made thee ? Sin is a soil which blemisheth the beauty of thy soul. In this, then, to glory, were the highest pitch of infelicity. Thou art only to approve that with a discreet choice, which may make thee most amiable in the sight of thy spouse. When thou eyest the vanity of earth, fix the eye of thine heart on the eternity of Heaven. Mix not thy delights in such objects where surfeit or excess begets a loathing', but in those lasting pleasures where fruition begets in thee an affectionate longing. Fashion not thyself after this world, where there is nothing that tempts but taints. Desire rather to be numerous in hours than years : so dispose of thy time, that time may bring thee to eternity. Ever consider, O my soul, how thou art here in a wilderness, and far removed from the Canaan of true happiness. A captive's proper melody is Lacrymai : he cannot raise his voice to any other note, unless he mad himself in his misery, and forget his own state. Vie, then, in sighs with sins. Take compassion of thy woful condition. ' Luke 21. 97 Be not commanded by thine handmaid. Restrain her, lest she grow imperious ; shew thyself a mistress, that she may become more obsequious. She is worthy to obey that knows not how to command. Do not lose thy prerogative; preserve thy style, retain thy state, and make her know how dangerous it is to incur thine hate. The more thou bringest her to contempt, the more shalt thou partake of content. Shouldst thou delicately feed her, or in her desires supply her, or loose thy reins and give liberty unto her, she would not stick to deprive thee of thine honour, and by thy unworthy subjection become an usurping commander. To free thee from this danger, let devotion be thy succour; so shall the shadow of the Almighty be thy shelter. " Though the servant earnestly desire the shadow, and the hireling look for the rcAvard of his work, or rather the end of the day, to conclude his work, tarry thou the Lord's leisure ; Avith patience endure the heat of the day, the weight of thy labour'.^' Though a pilgrim be Avearied, he must not fail nor faint till his journey be ended ; wherein he ac- counts himself so much the happier, as he is to his own native coimtry nearer. If thou fit and furnish thyself in all points for this journey, thou shalt be joyfully received in thine arrival to thy coun- try. Run, then, to the goal Avhich is set up for thee; strive to come to the mark Avhich is before thee. Let no impediments foreslow thee, no delights on earth divert thee. Seal up thine eye if it wander, but open it if it promise to fix on thy Saviour. Hourly thy dis- solution is expected ; the marriage-feast prepared ; and, though invited, let thy garment be holiness, so shall thy end be happiness. ' Job 7. 2. LOVE S LEGACY: OB, PANARETE'S BLESSING TO HER CHILDREN. Draw near me, and hear those last words which I must ever on earth speak to you. Sure I am, that the dying words of a tender mother cannot but fasten deeper, and retain a memory longer, than the speech of the movingest orator. Fear God above all things; it is the beginning of wisdom, and will enrich you above your portion. You are now in your child- hood, let that season you : so shall His blessing, who hath blessed me, crown you. Be honest in your ways, spare in your words, plenteous in good works. Proportions God hath given you; portions, by God's provi* denee, I have left you; enrich these with the best portion, the ornament of virtue. Specious features are not to be valued to the precious embel- lishment of virtue. Be what you seem to be, and seem what you ought to be. I never loved that countenance, which could promise much, and per- form nothing. Ever reflect on him that made you ; and make devotion your constant diary to conduct you. Be tender of those you rank with ; either to better them, or to be bettered by them. 99 Be humble to all: humility is the way to glory. This it is will make you amiable to the creature, glorious in the sight of your Creator. Learn how to obey, that you may know better how to com- mand. In the consideration of human felicity, there is nothing be- comes more incurable than what is habituate : when custom of sin takes away all sense of sin. In holy places is the devil ever busiest. No disease more dangerous than the lethargy of sin. This sleep brings ever an heavy awake : for though, like a tender nurse, she sing a sweet lullaby to her deluded child, it is ever in worser case, the more it sleeps ; for it dies in sin's slumber, and perisheth untimely, by the enchantment of her mother. Consider this, my dearest ones : resist the devil, and he will fly from you ; suffer not the first motions of sin to seize on you ; pray continually, because you have an enemy assailing you in- cessantly. The combat is short, your crown eternal. In the heat of the day, think of the evening. The earnest- penny will recompense your pains. Continue to the end, and your reward shall be endless. Be not too curious in enquiring what you are to receive after this life ; but so labour that you may receive your reward of glory after this life. Many, by too curious an itching after what they were to receive, have deceived themselves, by loving their reward more than God. Let nothing on earth take your hearts ; let the divine love only possess them, so shall you find quietness in them. That heart cannot want that possesseth God. He will be a light to direct it, that it stray not ; a comfort to refresh it, that it fail not. For all earthly helps, they must either leave us, or we them. Wherein it faileth oftentimes forth, that we are most afflicted even in those wherein we expected most comfort. 100 It is one tiling to live on earth, another thing to love earth. To be in the world, and of the world, are different conditions. Tabernacles are not to be accounted habitations. VV hile we are sojourning we must be journeying towards Canaan] nor may we Test till we get home. my tender ones (for never Avere children more dear to a mother), make every day of your life a promising passage to your native country. As every day brings you nearer to your grave, may every day increase in you the riches of his grace. Let the joys of heaven and torments of hell be familiar with you ; by meditating of the felicity of the one, and infelicity of the other : these to deter, those to allure. Be not too much taken with fashion ; it is the disease of this age. Comeliness is the most taking dress to a discreet eye ; what- soever is else, borders on sin, and becomes reputation's stain. 1 am not now very old when I leave you, yet did never that spreading vanity of the time much surprise me. For my part, I did ever rather affect not to be known at all, than to be known for singular. It is a poor accomplishment that takes her essence from what we wear. The rind makes not the tree precious, but the fruit. My desire is, that you would be circumspect in your discourse ; though no society can subsist without speech, yet were it very ne- cessary to be cautious of the society to whom we direct our speech. Few or none have ever been hurt by silence ; but many, too many, by too prodigal speech have engaged their freedom to the power of : their foes. • Let your whole life be a hne of direction to yourselves, and of instruction to others. • f V. Be more ready to hear than to teach: and above all things, let your fame be a living doctrine to your family. 101 Be diligent in the vocation you are called unto ; and be ever doing some good work, that the devil may never find you unem- ployed, for our security is his opportunity; to prevent, then, his sleights, give no way to sloth. When you come into any holy place, call Him to mind to whom it is dedicated ; hold 3^ourselves then as retired from the world, and lift up your hearts to Him, who is your hope and help, both here and in a better world. Esteem of all men well, and of yourselves the worst. Suffer with others Avhen you shall hear them defamed, and pre- serve their report as well as you may ; for it is not sufficient to be tender of our own and impeach others, but to tender others as our own. Stand always in an humble and religious fear. Be not ashamed to confess what you were not ashamed to commit. . • If at any time, through frailty, you fail, with tears of unfeigned contrition redeem your fall. Walk with an undefiled conscience, knowing that you are in his presence, whose eyes are so pure as they cannot abide iniquity, and whose judgment so clear as it will search out hypocrisy. Keep your bodies undefiled ; temples should be pure and un- polluted. If your desire be to honour your Maker, you must make your heart his harbour. Every country hath one chief city, and that situate in the heart of the land, and becomes the king's seat ; your heart shall be the city of the King of Kings, so you guard the gates of your little city that no sinful intruder enter nor surprise them, no corrupt affection win in upon them. Now the better to secure your state, let your eyes, your city 102 centinels^ be so directed that they become not distracted ; by wan- dering abroad they beget disorder at home. All neighbourly offices I commend unto you ; they gain love^ which is the oil of our life ; but too much familiarity I do not admit : charity is expedient to all, familiarity to few. ■ Let not the sun shine upon you before you have commended yourselves to that Sun of Righteousness to direct you in all your ways, and enrich you with all good works. i To conclude (for I feel my failing faculties drawing near their conclusion) : Let your youth be so seasoned with all goodness, that in your riper age you may retain an habit of that which your youth practised. m. Well-spent minutes are precious treasures; whose reviving memory will refresh your fainting souls in their sharpest gusts of misery. To speak of marriage to you I will not, for your childhood cannot yet conceive it : may your choice be with discretion, and without change ; so shall succeeding comfort second your choice, j Prefer your fame before all fortunes; it is that sweet odour which will perfume you living, and embalm you dying. I find myself now breathing homeward ; the eye of my body is fixed on you, the eye of my soul on heaven : think on me as your natural mother, and of earth as your common mother* Thither am I going, where you must follow. Value earth as it is, that when you shall pass from earth, you may enjoy what earth cannot afford you; to which happiness your dying mother com- mends you. riNis. 103 THE BURIAL OF THE OLD MAN. Dead, Old Man ! and thou shalt want no obsequies fitting thy burial. Thou tasted long of earth, and now thou art returned to that whereof thou tasted. In thee every sense was an earthly con- cupiscence ; drenched were thy affections in the stinking puddle of worldly vanities. Earth was thy object, here were thy various desires fixed, thy delights solely confined. O, the misery of an aged sinner! what small remorse is begot by continuance in sin? The nearer to his grave, the cooler in the faculties of grace. He promiseth to himself a long life, and deludes his inveigled soul with the deceiving hopes of a permanent city in a pilgrimage. None so old but he hopes he may live one year longer ; yet the longer he lives, the farther in distance from his Saviour. And whence all this ? from thee, from thee, security, the devil's opportunity ; being never more in danger than when most secure. The crab-fish (when the oyster doth open herself) casteth a stone into her shell, and being so disabled to shut herself, becomes a prey unto the crab. The Fathers apply this unto the devil ; when he findeth men gaping and idle, he casteth into them some stone of temptation, whereby he works their overthrow. The slothful man is the devil's shop; there he works, ever busy when men are lazy. These, Margites-like, of whom it is said that he never ploughed, nor digged, nor did any thing all his life long that might tend to any goodness, are wholly unprofitable unto the world ; they leave a slime behind them with the snail, but leave no action meriting fame. These were thy emblems, Old Man, whilst thou lived here: many were thy years, passing few thine hours ; so as those mottos, sometimes applied to a fruitless character of age, might seem pro- 104 perly to allude to thy condition : Quo diutius insenuit, insanivit. Vixit, ut periit; moriens cum vixit. Reflect a little upon those years thou hast passed over, those many accountable hours, which with such unhappy security thou hast boasted over. Since Adam's fall thou hast taken thy full of sin ; nothing could thine eyes desire but thou laboured to satisfy them in. And, whereas thine age should have been a line to others' actions ; the management of thy passions a mirror unto others how to compose their affections ; nothing tasted more of lightness in youth than thy empty and frivolous discursive age : apt hast thou been to deprave what was good, and to improve what was incomparably naught. • The acquaintance of a friend inveigles us if evil, but improves us being good. Unhappy sons to follow the steps of such a father! A physician's receipt, said one, is a Delphian sword ; this cuts, that kills both ways. Such was thine unhappy society ; none ever conversed with thee, who sucked not some mortal infection from thee. Thy reverend age promised to the poor deluded infantry of this world better instructions ; they saw in thee a grave presence, an awful countenance, a majestic command : none more like an elder before thou spake ; none more unlike thyself when thou spake. Nihil sene Elementario turpius, said wise Seneca. Nihil dialec- tico sene deformius, said witty Petrarch. Thou couldest dispute dialectically, argue sophistically, discourse rhetorically; but this made thy practic part worse. None ever loved more to reason, and leaned less to reason, or lived more against reason. With help of thy four eyes, Medea like, thou couldest see the best; but the eye of thy judgment became so darkened, as thou ever chused the worst. Like some ancient record, thou couldest testify to the world what thou hadst seen, what revolutions of ages thou hadst past, what changes of princes, translations of empires, and alterations in 105 all states thou hadst seen. But what did all these annals of anti- quity; presidents to succeeding memory, upon reflection to thyself, any way benefit thee? Thou hadst obsei-ved many irregular and indisposed states reduced to order; meantime, thine own little commonweal stood still distracted, and became no better. Qui alienum agriim arat, familiarem deserit, said the comical poet. Quick-sighted hast thou been, and piercing in the scrutiny of others' errors, carrying thine own mail ever behind thee, that thou mightest less see what evinced thee of impurity. Nothing, said that heavenly moral, is a more unbeseeming ob- ject than to see one old in years, who retains no other argument of his age but his years. Nor indeed is age to be measured by years, but hours : many may be young in years who are old in hours ; many young in hours who are old in years. Hadst thou duly considered this, poor Old Man ! with what honour might these thy gray hairs have returned to their grave ! What sweet odours had the perfume of thy virtues breathed from thy grave ! What a precious memory hadst thou left behind thee ! What a reverend emulation to them that should succeed thee ! For what avails it thee now to enjoy the transitive honours of this life? To have surfeited in delights, and contracted a lasting league with thy pleasures? These add but new weights to thy old corruptions, and press thee far lower than if thou hadst been a stranger unto pleasure. Many friends and eminent favourites (I know right well) thou hadst, Avhilst thou hadst thy being in the Avorld; but what comfort dost thou now receive from their assistance? what succour by their supportance? Nay, Old Man, I must tell thee, they are now made rather to afflict than solace thee, more to distract than comfort thee. Now thou remembers those sensual banquets, those time-beguiling, but soul-defiling pleasures, you mutually enjoyed : now those lusciously-delighted senses are presented to thee, and thou feelest in them what thou never so much as dreamed to re- 106 ceive from them ; being in these chastised where thou wert most cheered, in these tormented where thou wert most dehghted. O, how true dost thou noAv find, miserable Old Man! that say- ing; a merry evening makes a heavy morning, and a glad going forth a sad returning. In this evening of thine age, how youthful were thy desires, how spritely thy fancy, though accompanied by a decrepid faculty ! Now those sweet airs are become dulled with sad accents ; wormlings now must be thy dearest darlings. The vast grave, the receptacle of that poor remainder of frailt3r. An unexpected change, I must confess, but there's no remedy; better it is that one perish than an unity. Now art thou going to thy last home; and well had it been for many that thou hadst been long since there immured ; seeing so many by thy subtle impostures have been deluded. For mine own part, 1 hear none about this house of sorrow ; but they exclaim against thee. They say, thy pretended reverence deceived many; who, when they most relied on thee, suffered most misery. For the rich, they cry out against thee, and say : thou it was who made them prefer their gold before their God, and to put their affiance in their substance. The poor, they likewise complain against thee, and cry out in the bitterness and anguish of their soul : this is he who willed us to murmur and repine at our poverty, and to bear ourselves impa- tiently towards his divine Majesty. The vain glorious, they vow they had never known what pride meant, nor whereto an over-weening conceit tended, till such time as they became by thee inflamed. Humble were their thoughts, equally tempered were their desires ; the applause of vulgar breath could not take them, nor the oily smoothing of a sycophant's tongue taint them. The voluptuous, who have so long imbathed themselves in the gliding floods of fading pleasures, these contest against thee, and 107 protest by the sprig of their feather (the light emblem of a lighter mistress's favour) that thou first taught their eyes to wander, de- luding their understandings with shadows of deceiving pleasure. The fiery furious spirit, who makes blood his goal, and revenge his glory, takes a deep oath, and seconds it with as deep an health, that hadst thou never suggested to his thoughts that tender darling of his, which he prizeth at so high a rate, reputation, his fury had slept, and an aged rust seized his blade. Nay, all mankind, with one voice and vote, have proclaimed this by their common crier : " Behold He, who for so many years hath lived amongst us, sat at our table with us, taken meat from our hand, slept in our bosom, conversed with us when he pleased, and by an hereditary right or privilege, was to us engaged'; even he, who from his youth up hath been delicately nursed, tenderly cockered by us, because we have spared and not scourged, he is become contumacious unto us : he has lifted his heel above our head ; into bondage has he brought us, and cruelly (such was his ungrateful quality) hath he domineered over us." Thus long hath he lived, of those now loathed, of whom he was sometimes beloved. Expect then, Old Man, that never more dry eyes followed so aged a corpse. For Avhat should we do in the solemnizing of these funerals, but punctually imitate the Thracians, who used to mourn at their births, but rejoice at their burials? For, howsoever young men, out of an unbounded liberty and distempered passion, cry out : O that thou hadst never died ! old men, whose aged experience and maturer judgment have delivered unto them more useful lectures, breathe out : O that thou hadst never been born! These knew well every sin to be more incurable in age than youth\ High time was it then, thy life should be closed, when thy wound could not be cured. But now. Old Man, thou art shrouded, and with all speed to ' A quo peril pavi, et peperi. * Holgot. Sup. li. Sap. 108 be interred : for thy full body will not keep long above ground ; nor do any one hold it Avorth the cost of embalming. Thy neigh- bours, consorts, and allies, are waiting below to accompany thee to thy grave ; holding it fit to bury thee with all decency, accord-, ing to thy rank, being of that ancient race, as none of all this great company but derive their lineage from thy family, or in some measure partake not of thee. These, then, willing to perform this last duty, and inhearse thy corpse with all solemnity, have appointed, by the express direction of that principal herald of mortality, that, for supply of other funeral assistants, thy plea- sures become thy mourners ; thy passions, thy followers ; thy affec- tions, thy bearers; thy infirmities, those poor men to carry thy escutcheons; thy sexton, inhumanity; thine anthem, an enforced Lachrymal; and for thine epitaph, no other will we bestow on thee, than what that sententious moralist' so long since prepared for thee: Hie vir diu fuit; where being and living becomes words of different extension. On then,, ye seeming mourners. Let us bury him, lest we be buried in him. Let us not play the hypocrites, in shedding one tear for his loss, whose debauched condition never deserved our love. He sometimes laughed when we were insnared, and shall we now weep to see him interred .'' No ; he is gone, and his loss is our gain. Let us henceforth pass by him as if we did not know him ; for our too long knowledge and familiarity made us forgetful of our mortality. Not one groan shall pierce his grave, nor one sigh his shrine. Had he been sooner laid in earth, our affections had been nearer heaven. His farewel on earth Avill make us fare well after earth. ' Sen. 109 OF LOOSE LOVE. The poisonous infection of inordinate desire, streams into an exorbitant course ; it cannot confine itself to the limit of a discreet love, but abuseth the freedom of itself, by inclining to a licentious and uncontrolled liberty. It pretends sometimes a charitable respect to the indigent; not to cover with the veil of piety her naked feature, but with the shroud of dishonesty to corrupt nature. It will disguise itself in many colours ; nothing can make it more unlike itself than to paint it like itself. Every country is to her native; yet in no country good, because in herself so miserably naught. She stalks in the street with a seeming untainted state, but her posture discovers her humour; while her eyes, which should be her centinels to guard her, become her pioneers to betray her. A light Amorist is a double Simonist, and lives by a twofold loan, body and purse ; but loseth one thing better than them both for ever ; and all this for a, slight exposed pleasure. I have many times seen men supposed wise, to walk in this track, and such as shadowed their light thoughts with grave shows, or tied the tongue of fame by their place, power, or person ; but what became of them ? The more the age wherein they lived dis- pensed with their crimes, the more numerous and odious they were when they came to the tesh. Yea, I have heard some of these confess, Avith penitential tears, that they had bestowed more cost, more coin, in private parliance with loose love, than in all other expenses of their whole life. It interesteth itself in every age; youth courts it ; man-age gravely suits it; old-age, though impotent, with impudent wrinkles doats on it. It is rare to observe what excellent resolves some persons have 110 had, and with what vowed constancy they have promised to them- selves a continued moderation or attemperature of their desires, yet what a strange alteration in the close : Quam splendida proposita uno momento jiiint nuhila! Nor be these foments of inordinacy only found in places of lightness, where sin enters in by the windows, but even in places of devotion, where no filthy bird should take her roost, nor no unclean beast be admitted to rest. Here the tempter labours most to dis- temper our recollected thoughts. In sanctissimis locis, sceleratissimce tentationes surgunt et saviunt: in earum antidotum, sanctissimce cogi- tationes mentem occupent. In holiest places, polluted'st thoughts : which to prev^ent, let holy thoughts be reserved for holy places. It is a miserable traffic to lose eternity for a moment's pleasure ; hope of future glory for fickle fancy, or a wanton mistress's favour. Joseph was wiser ; he choosed rather to lose his coat and credit in the court, than his acceptance in the courts of heaven. What a folly then is it, to admire, nay adore, painted earth ? Poor moul- dered ashes ! where vanity takes up all by wholesale. Within a few, a very few years, nay, atoms of years, minutes, how are those lilies faded .f* those roses perished? where, then, that beauty which once flourished ? What wisdom were it then to avert the eyes of frailty from a fading beauty, and to fix them on those glorious rays of eternity "^ Flowers shall we find more redolent and more per- manent in the inclosed garden. There shall we find no light love nor deceiving dalliance, but that divine fancy which shall highly transport us, and fully delight us without repentance. FINIS From the Private Press of LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN. Printed by T. DAVISON, Whltefriars, London. PRIlSv .e>7 ll 'N if" v^- r ?**-«^ -> •v' .4; x^- -t" -«^-xr*»''i^-yv.>' ->■■. -'■■ '-«^