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THis Visit, (Dear So∣phronia) which you in∣tended but for an act of Kindness, proves also one of Charity; for though it be not many hours since we parted, and though you left me free from any other discomposure than that which your leaving me is wont to give me; yet this little time has made so great a change in my Condition,
as to be, I doubt not, already visible in my Looks: For whilst I was sitting quietly in my Chamber, and was as far from the Thoughts of Sickness, as from any such disorders as are wont to be the occasions of it; and whilst I was delightfully enter∣tain'd, by an Out-landish Virtuoso that came to Visit me, with an Account of the several attempts that are either made, or design'd▪ in foreign Parts, to produce Curiosities, and improve Knowledge; I was suddenly surpris'd with a Chilness, and a Shivering, that came so unexpected, and increas'd so fast, that it was heightned into a down∣right Fit of an Ague, before I could satisfie my self what it was. But I confess, that this unwelcome accident had not amaz'd me, as well as troubled me, if I had suffi∣ciently consider'd to what a strange number and variety of Distempers these frail Car∣casses of ours are Obnoxious; for, if I had call'd to mind what my Curiosity for Dis∣sections has shown me, and remembred how many Bones, and Muscles, and Veins, and Arteries, and Grisles, and Ligaments, and Nerves, and Membranes, and Juices, a humane Body is made up of, I could not have been surprised, that so curious an En∣gine, that consists of so many pieces, whose Harmony is requisite to Health, and where∣of
not any is superfluous, nor scarce any insensible, should have some or other of them out of order, it being no more strange that a Man's Body should be subject to Pain, or Sickness, than that an Instrument with above a thousand Strings (if there were any such) should frequently be out of Tune, especially since the bare change of Air may as well discompose the Body of a Man, as untune some of the Strings of such an Instrument; so that ev'n the in∣imitable Structure of humane Bodies is scarce more admirable, than that such cu∣rious and elaborate Engines can be so con∣triv'd, as not to be oftner out of order than they are; the preservation of so nice and exact a Frame being the next wonder to its Work-man-ship. And indeed, when I consider further, how many outward acci∣dents are able to destroy the Life, or, at the least, the Health, ev'n of those that are care∣full to preserve them; and how easily the Beams of a warm Sun, or the Breath of a cold VVind, or too much, or too little Ex∣ercise, a Dish of green Fruit, or an infecti∣ous Vapour, or ev'n a sudden Fright, or ill News, are able to produce Sickness, and perhaps Death; and when I think too, how many evitable Mischiefs our own Appe∣tites,
or Vices, expose us to, by acts of In∣temperance, that necessitate the Creatures to offend us, and practices of Sin, where∣by we provoke the Creator to punish us; when I say, I consider all this, and conse∣quently how many Mischiefs he must escape that arrives at Gray-hairs; I confess, the commonness of the Sight cannot keep me from thinking it worth some wonder, to see an Old man, especially if he be any thing Healthy. But these kinds of Thoughts (Sophronia) are seldome entertain'd, un∣less they be excited by some unwelcome Occasions; and when we are long accu∣stomed to Health, we take it for granted, that we shall enjoy it, without taking it for a Mercy that we are so; we are not sensible enough of our continual need and depen∣dance on the divine Goodness, if we long and uninterruptedly enjoy it; and by that unthankfull heedlesness we do, as it were, necessitate Providence to deprive us of its wonted supports, to make us sensible that we did enjoy, and that we always need them: It being but fit that Mercies should cease to be constant, which, their constancy only, that should be their indearment, keeps us from entertaining as Mercies; I will therefore (Sophronia) endeavour to de∣rive
this advantage from this sudden Fit of Sickness, to make me thankfull for Health, when God shall be pleas'd to restore it me, and to keep me from reckoning confidently upon the lastingness of it: For though we are very unapt to take ev'n the Wise man's Counsel, where he forbids us to boast our selves of to Morrow, because we know not what a Day may bring forth; yet by such accidents I find, that Solomon spoke much within compass, and had not done other∣wise, if for a Day he had substituted an Hour: For so many, and so various are the unfore-seen accidents to which we poor Mortals are expos'd, that the continuance of our Health, or Prosperity, do much more merit our thanks, than the interrup∣tion of them can deserve our wonder. And I must confess, (Sophronia) that though my falling Sick may be but my unhappiness, my being so much surpris'd at it was my fault.
ONe that, not knowing what Ails me, should come in, and see me in this soft Bed, not only cover'd, but almost op∣press'd, with Cloaths, would confidently conclude, that, whether or no I be distress'd by the contrary Quality, I cannot at least be troubled with Cold; and if he himself were so, he will be apt to Envy me. And if instead of coming in my Cold fit, he should Visit me in my Hot one, and see me with my Shoulders and Arms quite unco∣ver'd, and nothing but the single Sheet on the rest of my Body; he would be apt to think, that I must lye very cool. But alas! in spight of all that lies upon me, an inter∣nal Frost has so diffus'd it self through every Part, that my Teeth chatter, and my whole Body does shake strongly enough to made the Bed it self do so; and, though I still wish for more Cloaths, yet those that are heap'd on me, can so little controle this praeternatural Cold, that a Pile of them might sooner be made great enough to Crush than to VVarm me: So that when
I Travell'd ev'n in frosty Nights, the VVin∣ter had nothing near so strong an Operation on me. And as that external Cold was far more supportable whilst it lasted, so it was incomparably more easie for me, by Exer∣cise, and otherwise, to deliver my self from it.
Thus, when a Great or Rich Man's mind is distemper'd with Ambition, Avarice, or any immoderate Affection, though the By∣standers, that see not what disquiets him, but see what great store of Accommoda∣tions fortune has provided for him, may be drawn to Envy his Condition, and be kept very far from suspecting that he can want that Contentment, the means of which they see him so Richly supply'd with: And yet alas! as the Colder heat of the external Air is much less troublesome to a Man in Health, though furnished with an ordinary proportion of Cloaths, than the Cold or Hot fit of an Ague, with a pile of Blankets first, and then a single Sheet; so to a Vigorous and Healthy constitution of mind, External inconveniences are much more supportable than any Accommoda∣tions can make the condition of a distem∣per'd Soul. Let us not then judge of Men's happiness, so much by what they have, as by what they are, and consider both, that
Fortune can but give much, and it must be the Mind that makes that much enough: And that, as 'tis more easie to endure Win∣ter, or the Dog-days in the Air, than in the Blood; so a Healthfull mind, in spight of Outward inconveniences, may afford a Man a condition preferrable to all External ac∣commodations without that.
WHen the cold Fit first seiz'd me, me-thought it was rather melted Snow than Blood that Circulated in my Veins, where it mov'd so Inordinately, and maintain'd the vital Flame so Penuriously, that the greatest Sign which was left to distinguish this Cold from that of Death, was, its making me shake strong enough to shake the Bed I lay on. I call'd for more and more Cloaths, only because I needed them, not because I found any relief by them: I fancy'd the torrid Zone to be of a far more desirable Constitution than that we call the Temperate; and as little as I am wont to reverence vulgar Chymists, I
then envy'd their Laborants, whose imploy∣ment requires them to attend the Fire: But when the Cold Fit was once over, it was quickly succeeded by a Hot one, which after a while I thought more troublesome than it. I threw off the Cloaths much faster than my former importunity had procur'd them to be laid on me; and I, that could a little before scarce feel all that had been heap'd on me, could not now sup∣port a single Sheet, but thought its weight oppress'd me.
I envied the Inhabitants of Norway, and Iceland, far more than those that dwell either in the richest Province of East-India, or of the Golden Coast it self: And of all Creatures, not Rational, I thought the Fishes the happiest, since they Live in a cool Stream, and, when they please, may Drink as much as they List.
If then (Sophronia) the self-same Per∣son may, within less than two hours, have such different apprehensions of his own Condition, as now to complain of that as a sad Grievance, which but an hour before he wish'd for as a Relief; we may well acknowledge, that we frequently mistake in estimating the Hardships and Afflictions we complain of, and find them not so un∣easie as we make them, whilst we not only
endure the whole Affliction that troubles us, but often increase it, by repining at the envied Condition of others.
An afflicted Man is very apt to fancy, that any kind of Sickness, that for the pre∣sent troubles him, is far less supportable than if it were exchang'd for another Dis∣ease; and imagines his case to be so singular, that one cannot say to him in Saint Paul's Language, No Temptation has befallen you, but that which is common to Men, 1 Cor. 10. 13. He presumes, that he could far more easily support his Crosses, if instead of his present Disease, he had this or that other, though, if the Exchange were made, he would perchance wish for his first Sickness, if not be as much troubled at his own Folly, as with the Disease. He that is tor∣mented with the Gout, is apt to envy any Sick man that is exempted from that Roa∣ring pain, and able to VValk about; He that is swell'd with the Dropsie, fancies all Persons happy whose Diseases allow them Drink to quench their Thirst: And the Blind man envies both these, and thinks no Persons so miserable in this VVorld as those that cannot see the VVorld. Feavers burn us, Agues shatter us, Dropsies drown us, Phrensies unman us, the Gout tortures us, Convulsions wrack us, Epilepsies fell us,
Collicks tear us; and in short, there is no considerable Disease that is not very trou∣blesome in it self, how ever Religion may sanctifie and sweeten it: For as a Fortress, whose Defendants are not Treacherous, can scarce be taken otherwise than either by Famine, or Storm; so Life, for whose preservation Nature is so faithfully sollici∣tous, cannot be extinguish'd, unless either Chronical Diseases do Lingringly destroy, or some Acute do hastily snatch it away. And indeed, if a Disease prove Mortal, 'tis no more than is to be expected, if it tire out the Patient with tedious Languish∣ments, or else dispatch him with dismal Symptoms: Nor is it in point of Sickness only, that we are often more unhappy than we need, by Fancying our selves more un∣happy than we should be, if we were al∣low'd to exchange that which now troubles us, for any thing which does not. But there are Evils, which, though exceeding contrary in appearance, and circumstances, do yet agree in being extremely trouble∣some; as the possest Wretch our Saviour cured in the Gospel, though he were some∣times cast into the Fire, and sometimes into the VVater, yet in both states was tor∣mented by the same Divel, who in variety of Inflictions still express'd the same Ma∣lice.
But we should make a righter Esti∣mate of suffering, if we did but consider, that much uneasiness is annex'd to an Af∣flicted condition in general; and that there∣fore, which we are sensible of, may pro∣ceed rather from the general nature of Sick∣nesses, and Crosses, than from the particular Kind and Degree of ours. And indeed, if a Man were permitted to exchange his Disease with those of others, he would often find his granted wishes to bring him a variety of Mischiefs, rather than an Ex∣emption from them; and many of those that we Envy, as thinking them far less Sufferers than our selves, do look with in∣vidious Eyes on us, and do but dissemble their Grievances more handsomely than we, not find them more easie than ours. And that of Saint Peter may be more ge∣nerally apply'd, than most Men think, where he exhorts to constancy, upon this conside∣ration, That the same Sufferings are accom∣plish'd upon our Brethren in the World, 1 Pet. 5. 9. For 'tis all one as to the Efficacy of this Lenity, whether our Afflictions be the same with those of others, in Kind, or not Superiour to them in Degree: And I doubt not, but we should support many of our Grievances as easily as those for which we wish them exchang'd, if the chief account
upon which they trouble us, were not ra∣ther that they are the present ones, than the greatest.
ONe of the most troublesome Symp∣toms in almost all Feaverish Distem∣pers, is wont to be Thirst; and in mine it was importunate to a degree, that made me very much so, in frequently solliciting those that were about me for Drink, which, in the heat of the Fit, seem'd so desirable an Object, that it then much lessen'd my wonder at that parch'd King's agreement, who, urg'd with Thirst, sold his Liberty for a full Draught of cold VVater. But alas! I sadly found, that the Liquor I swallow'd so Greedily, afforded me but a very tran∣sient Relief, the latter being gone almost as soon as the former had pass'd thorow my Throat, so that not only it did but amuse me, not Cure me; but, which is worse, Drinking it self increas'd my Thirst, by encreasing the Feaver, whose uneasie Symptom that was. Wherefore, seeing all the cooling Juleps that could be admini∣ster'd,
did free me from nothing but the Expectation of being much reliev'd by such slight and palliative Medicines; the Do∣ctor thought himself this Day oblig'd to a quite contrary, and yet a more generous Remedy; and order'd, that, instead of gi∣ving me Drink, they should take away Blood, as judging it the best and far the surest course to take away the uneasie Symp∣tom, by removing that which Foments the cause.
Thus when the Mind is distemper'd with turbulent Commotions, and the disquieted Appetite does too restlessly and eagerly crave Objects, which, though perhaps in themselves not absolutely Bad, are at least made, by a Conjunction of Circumstances, unfit and dangerous for the Person that longs for them: VVe, like unskilfull or un∣ruly Patients, fondly imagine, that the only way to appease our Desires, is, to grant them the Objects they so Passionately tend to. But the wise and soveraign Physitian of Souls, who considers not so much what we do wish, as what we should wish, often discerns, that this praeternatural Thirst in∣dicates and calls for a Lancet, rather than a Julep, and knows it best to attempt the Cure, rather by taking away somewhat that we have than by giving us that which
only a Spiritual superfluity reduces us to want: And in effect, we often see, that as a few Ounces of Blood taken away in a Feaver, does cool the Patient more than the giving him ten times as much Drink would do; so a few Afflictions, by partly letting out, and partly moderating our cor∣rupt Affections, do more compose and ap∣pease a Mind molested with inordinate Appetites, than the Possession of a great many of the Objects we impotently desire. VVhilst our Appetites are roving, and un∣reasonable, and insatiate, the obtaining of this or that particular Object does but amuse the Patient, not take away the Dis∣ease; whereas seasonable, and sanctify'd Crosses, that teach us to know our selves, and make us sensible how little we deserve, and how little the things we are so Greedy of could make us happy, if obtain'd, may reduce us to a Resignation, and Tranquility of Mind, preferrable to those over-valu'd things, which, as it keeps us from enjoying, so it keeps us from needing. Thus Zacheus, who, whilst a Publican never thought he had enough, when he had once entertain'd our Saviour, though he offer'd to make a quadruple Restitution of what ever he had fraudulently acquir'd, was, upon a sudden, by being freed from Avarice, grown so
Rich, that he was forward to give no less than half he had to the Poor; as if his Divine Guest had wrought upon his Goods, such Miracles as he had done upon the five Loaves, and two Fishes, of which the Re∣mains amounted to more than the whole Provision was at first.
THe last bitter Potion that I took, (Sophronia) was, I remember, sweet∣ned with the hopes were given me with it, that it might prove the last I should need to take, and would procure me a set∣led and durable Health: But I find by sad Experience, That the benefit I deriv'd from it is nothing near so lasting as it was wel∣come; for I am now reduc'd to take Physick agen, and I fear must often do so, before I shall be able to dislodge this troublesome Ague that haunts me: For though the last Physick I took, wrought so well, that I hop'd it had brought away not only the ill Humours themselves, but the very sources of them; yet by the effect of what I took this Morning, I not only find
there is as much to be purged away now as there was then, but, what is sadder, I can scarce hope this Physick will excuse me from the need of taking more again ere long: But though 'tis a troublesome thing, and must be often repeated, yet 'tis a salu∣tary thing too, and cannot be more unplea∣sant than 'tis usefull; and as Loathsome as it is, a Sickness were far worse. Thus when a relenting Sinner has endeavour'd to wash away his Sins with his Tears, he may possibly think himself so throughly wash'd in that abstersive Brine, (which yet owes its cleansing Virtue not to its own Nature, but to the Blood of Christ) that if he be a new Convert, and be entertain'd with those Ravishing delights wherewith God is often pleas'd to engage such return∣ing Prodigals, (as the Kind Father wel∣com'd his Riotous Son with Feasting, and with Musick) that he is apt to fancy Re∣pentance to be like Baptism, which, being receiv'd once for a Man's whole Life, needs never be renewed. But though, during such transports, an unexperienc'd Convert may be apt to cast the Gauntlet to the VVorld, saying in his Spiritual prosperity, that he shall never be mov'd; yet, as our Saviour speaks, The Spirit indeed is willing, but the Flesh is weak; and too commonly our Reso∣lutions
flagg with our Joys, and those that a while before imagin'd they despis'd the World, find themselves Worsted, if not Captivated, by it; and find it far more difficult than they thought it, to Live in the Company of Sinners without being of their Number, and in so defil'd a World without being spotted by it.
And as the same David, who said in his Prosperity, he should never be mov'd, said in his Distress, he should one Day perish by the hand of Saul: So many of those, that whilst their Tears of Repentance, and of Joy, are not yet dry'd off their Eyes, are apt to defie and contemn all the Ghostly enemies, and difficulties, that oppose their present zealous Resolutions, will perhaps in a while after, when they meet with unex∣pected Impediments, and Foyls, change their confidence into despair, and think those very Enemies, whom they lately look'd on as Despicable, to be Insuperable: But as Physick, that does good for a time, ought not to be rejected, because it does good but for a time; nor should we re∣ject the only sure means of our present Recovery, for fear of future Relapses; so, though we sadly find that Repentance must be repeated, and that after we have pra∣ctis'd it often, we must have need of it
agen; yet since 'tis the only proper means to recover a Soul out of a state of Sin, which is worse than any Disease, and leads to the worst of Deaths, we must never suffer our selves to be so far Discouraged, as to forgo so necessary and so profitable a Duty, and must not more frequently Re∣lapse into faults, than renew our Sorrow for them, and our Resolves against them: For Innocence indeed is far more desirable than Repentance, as Health is than Physick. But as Physick is more Eligible than the continuance of Sickness, so is Repentance more Eligible than continuing in the state of Sin: And as the Drinking ev'n of a bitter Potion is a less Evil than the heat, and thirst, and restlesness of an Ague; so to lament for Sin here, is a far less uneasie thing than to do it in a place where there is nothing but remediless VVailing, and Gnashing of Teeth. 'Tis true, that our Souls are in this too like our Bodies, that our whole Lives are spent betwixt Purging away of naughty Humours, and accumu∣lating them: And me-thinks I hear the Flesh still saying unto the Spirit, as Ruth did to Naomi, The Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but Death part thee and me, Ruth 1. 14. But although there are Defile∣ments, which, though often wash'd off, will
as often come again to blemish us; and though the Deeds of the Body, will scarce all of them perfectly be put to Death, but with the Body it self; yet next to an uninterrupted state of Health, frequent and early Recoveries are desirable: And though the shamefull necessity of needing to beg many pardons for the same fault, may justly make an ingenious Christian cry out with Saint Paul, O! Wretched Man that I am, who shall deliver me from the Body of this Death; yet the same sense of his own frailty, that puts this Exclamation into his Mouth, may comfort his Heart, by its being a pledge, that he shall one Day be able Exultingly to say with the same Apostle in another place, Thanks be to God which giveth us the Victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ, 1 Cor. 15. 57.
THis complaisant Physitian (Sophro∣nia) is you see very sollicitous, that his Remedies should as well gratifie the Patient, as oppose the Disease: And be∣sides,
that this Julip is ting'd with Sirrup of Clove-gilly-flowers, that it may at once delight the Palate, and the Eye; some of these other Remedies are sweetned with as much Sugar, as if they came not from an Apothecaries Shop, but a Confectioners. But my Mouth is too much out of Taste to rellish any thing that passes through it; and though my Sickness makes this Flat∣tering of the Palate almost necessary to the rendring these Medicines takable by me, yet upon the account of the same Distem∣per, all that the Doctor's tenderness and skil could do to make them Pleasant, can at most but keep them from being Loath∣some. And therefore, you will easily be∣lieve, Sophronia, that I enjoy these sweet things upon a score, that if it does Imbitter them, does at least, as to me, deprive them of their Nature: So that he, that for the sake of these Sirrups, and Electuaries, should, notwithstanding the Malady that needs them, envy me, might be suspected to be troubled with a worse Disease than an Ague is, a Frensie.
Thus there are many Favourites of For∣tune, whose seeming Enjoyments may perchance be Envy'd by those that do but Gaze on their Condition, whilst 'tis rather pitty'd by those that know it: To be
brought by Greatness of Power, or Riches, and Effeminacy of Mind, to that pass, that they seldome hear any thing but their own Praises, ev'n when their Actions merit Re∣prehension, and that they can rellish nothing that is not sweetned with so much of Flat∣tery, as quite to disguise, and perhaps per∣vert, its Nature. These, as I was going to say, and such other unhappy Priviledges, are things, which (whatever Fools may think) will not recommend Greatness to a considering Man, and are far more fit to procure the Possessour's ruine, than wise Men's envy: And besides, that a vain and impotent Soul is, by those disquieting Qualities, molested with greater Distem∣pers than those Gratifications can make amends for, and which often hinder the full Rellishing of these or any other Plea∣sure. The delight these treacherous Deli∣cacies afford, is so much less considerable than the Weakness they suppose; that 'tis far more Eligible to be without them than to need them.
AH! Dear Sophronia, in spight of all the care, and officiousness of those diligent Attendants, that you were pleas'd to send to watch with me, I have Slept all Night as little as I do now, or as I shall desire to do whilst you stay here.
This unwelcome leisure brought me as much a Necessity as an Opportunity to spend the time in entertaining my Thoughts, which on this occasion were almost as Va∣rious, and seem'd too as Wild, as, if I had Slept, my Dreams themselves would have been: And therefore, I presume you will not wonder, if I can now recall but few of them, and if the rest be as easily Vanish'd out of my Memory, as they came abruptly into my Mind.
The first Thought that I remember en∣tertain'd me, was that which was the most naturally suggested by the condition I was in: For when I found how tedious and wearisome each hour was, and observ'd how long a time seem'd to intervene be∣twixt the several Divisions that the striking
of the Clock made of a Night, that must at this time of the Year be much shorter than the Day, I could not but consider, how insupportable their condition must be, to be cast into outer Darkness, where tor∣mented Wretches lye, not as I do upon a soft Bed, but upon Fire and Brimstone, where no attendance of Servants, or kind∣ness of Friends, is allow'd them, that need it as much as they deserve it little; and, which is worst of all, where no Beam of hope is permitted to Consolate them, as if the Day should Dawn after so Dismal a Night, though protracted to Millions of Ages, each of whose miserable hours ap∣pears an Age.
The next thing I was considering, was, How defective we are in point of Gratitude to God; I now Blush that I cannot call to Mind the time, when I ever thought that his having vouchsaf'd me the power of Sleeping, deserv'd a particular Acknow∣ledgment. But now I begin to see that 'tis our Heedlesness, not their Uselesness, that keeps us from daily being thankfull for a multitude of Mercies, that we take no notice of; Though it be injurious, That that only commonness that heightens the Benefit, should keep us from being sensible of the Greatness of it. I confess I was
very lately one of them, who look'd upon Sleep as one of those inconveniencies of humane Nature, that merit a Consolation; and I very little apprehended, that I should ever complain of the want of Sleep, as of a Grievance, the necessity of it being what I always look'd upon under that No∣tion: But I now perceive, he was a Wise man, who said, That God made every thing Beautifull in its Season. And yet, when I consider the Affinity betwixt Sleep and Death, whose Image it is, I cannot but think it very unlikely, that this Life should be design'd for our Happiness, since not to lose almost half of it were an Infelicity.
Another thing I remember I was consi∣dering, was this, That though want of Sleep be one of the uneasiest accidents that attend on Sickness, yet in many cases it proves as usefull as it can be unwelcome: For there is a sort of Jolly people, far more Numerous than I could wish them, who are at utter defiance with Thinking, and do as much fear to be alone, as they should to do any course that is naturally productive of so unmanly a fear: And the same Sin∣full employments, or Vain pastimes, that make them afraid of being alone, do so much keep them from the necessity of be∣ing so, that they keep them almost from
the very Possibility of it: For in the time of Health, Visits, Businesses, Cards, and I know not how many other Avocations, which they justly stile Diversions, do suc∣ceed one another so thick, that in the Day there is no time left for the distracted Per∣son to converse with his own Thoughts: And ev'n, when they are Sick, though they be debarr'd of many of those wonted Di∣versions, yet Cards and Company will give them enough to prove a Charm against Thinking, which the Patient is so willing, or rather sollicitous, to decline, the need of that Sickness less troubles him, as it keeps his Body from going abroad, than as it tends to drive his Thoughts home; so that Sickness does little or nothing towards the making such Men consider, by casting them upon their Beds, unless it also hinder them from Sleeping there. But in the long and tedious Nights, when all the Praters, and the Gamesters (who are usually call'd good Companions, but seldome prove good Friends) are withdrawn, and have left our Patient quite alone, the Darkness of the Night begins to make him discern, and take some notice of his own Condition▪ and his Eyes, for want of outward Objects, are turn'd inwards, he must, whether he will or no, during the Silence of the Night, hear
those Lessons, which by the Hurry and Avocations of the Day he endeavour'd to avoid. And though this be a very unwel∣come Mercy, yet 'tis a Mercy still, and perhaps the greater for being so unwel∣come: For if he could Sleep in Sickness, as he us'd to do in Health, he were in great danger of having his Conscience laid A∣sleep, till it should be Awak'd by the Flames and Shriecks of Hell. And the design of God in chastning, being to reclaim and amend us, we not only do, by our want of Reflecting, indure the trouble of Sick∣ness, without reaping the benefit of it, but also by our shunning to consider, we are so Ill-natur'd to our selves, as to lengthen the Sickness, we are so Impatient of; which is in us as foolish as 'twould be in a nice Patient, after having been made to take a bitter, but a salutary Potion, to send unsea∣sonably for Cordials and Julips to hinder the working of it, and so by such unruli∣ness lose the benefit of the Operation, and lengthen his Pain and Sickness, to avoid the far less trouble of complying with the Na∣ture of the Medicine, and the Designs of the Physitian: So that Repentance being necessary to Recovery, and the considering of a Man's own ways as necessary to Repen∣tance, the want of Sleep, which both al∣lows
us time, and imposes on us a necessity to think, may well be look'd upon as a happy Grievance, since it very much tends to the shortning of our Afflictions, by the disposing us to Co-operate towards God's aims in sending them.
THe same Violence of my Fit, that made me very much need Sleep, allow'd me so little of it, that I think I miss'd not hearing one stroke of the Clock all the Night long. But since you know, Sophronia, that the Clock is kept by the Souldiers that are Quarter'd in the place where it stands, you will easily believe, that 'tis not very carefully look'd to, espe∣cially since they are not only wont to let it go Ill, but do oft times make it do so on purpose, and as may best comply with the Officers occasions, and as they would have the Guards that are to be set here, or to be sent hence, sooner or later Reliev'd. Of this uncertain going of the Clock, I never had occasion to take so much notice
as the last Night, when, lying too constant∣ly awak'd, I began to observe, that though all the hours were so tedious, as to seem every one of them extraordinary long, yet they manifestly appear'd to me not to be equally so; and therefore, when the Clock struck Eleven, to satisfie my self whether it did not mis-inform me, I call'd to one that sat up by me for the VVatch I use to measure the time with in nice Experiments, and found it to want but very little of Mid∣night; and not much above an hour after, when by my VVatch it was but about one, those that kept the Clock, whether out of Negligence, or Design, or to make amends for past Slowness, made it strike two, which seem'd to me to hint a not unusefull Rule in estimating the length or shortness of Dis∣courses: For there are Cases, where the difficulty or importance of the Subject is such, that though it cost a Man many words, yet, if what he says be not sufficiently fit∣ted to the Exigency of the Occasion, and the Theam, he may speak much, without saying enough. But on the other hand, if (as it often happens) a Man speak either Unseasonably, Erroneously, or Im∣pertinently, he may, though he say little, talk too much; The paucity or number of VVords, is not, as many think it, that
which is in such cases to be chiefly consi∣der'd; for 'tis not many, or few, that are requir'd, but enough. And, As our Clock struck not so often as it should have done, when it struck Eleven, and yet struck a while after too often when it struck but two, because the first time it was Mid-night, and the second time it was but one of the Clock; so to estimate whether what is said have its due length, we are not so much to look whether it be little, or much, as whether a Man speak in the right time, and say neither more nor less than he should.
THe occasion I had (Sophronia) to compare the Clock and my Watch, suggested to me this other Reflection, That the Dyal-plate of the Clock being I know not how many times larger than that of the Watch, the Circle on which the hours were mark'd in the one, did by vast Odds exceed the correspondent Circle of the other: And yet, though the Index of the Clock had then past through a far greater
quantity of space than that of the Watch, this little Index, being, when it was in∣deed Mid-night, arriv'd at the mark of the twelfth hour, when the greater Index was come but to that of the eleventh, I justly concluded, That the VVatch did not only go truer, but more forward than the Clock.
Thus in estimating Men's Lives, there is something else to be look'd at than the meer duration of them: For there are some Men, who having Loyter'd and Tri∣fled away very many Years in the VVorld, have no other Argument of their Age, than the Church-books of their Gray-hairs; and as little do they indeed Live, that waste a number of insignificant Years in successive or perpetual Diversions from the true busi∣ness and end of Life. These, and many other kinds of Persons, that consume much Time to little purpose, may be said rather to have Lasted long, than to have Liv'd long: As the careless VVanderer, who, instead of Travelling, does nothing but stray from one wrong way to another, though he do so at Midsummer from Morn∣ning to Night, may be said to have been long a Horse-back, but not to have per∣form'd a long Journey; whereas he, that by thriftily Husbanding his time, and indu∣striously
Improving it, has early dispatch'd the business for which he was sent into the VVorld, needs not Gray-hairs to be re∣puted to have Liv'd long enough, and con∣sequently longer than those that wear Gray-hairs, only because they were Born many Years before him. In a word, to one of these sorts of Men we may attribute a longer Time, but to the other a longer Life; (for ev'n the Heathen could say, Non est vivere sed valere Vita) and within how narrow a compass soever a Man's Life be confin'd, if he have Liv'd so long, as before he comes to the end of Life he have reach'd the ends of Living; The attain∣ment of that Measure of Knowledge, and the practice of those Graces and Virtues that fit a Man to glorifie God in this short Life, and to be Glorified by him in that which shall have no End.
THe silence of the Night, and my being unable to Sleep, disposing me to have my attention very easily excited; I chanc'd to take notice, that the Dim light
of the Candle, which the Curtains were not drawn so close as to exclude every where out of the Bed, was on a suddain considerably increas'd, and continued so long in that condition, that, for fear of some mischance, I put my Head out of the Bed to see whence it was that this new and un∣expected increase of Light proceeded; but I quickly found, that 'twas from a Thief (as they call it) in the Candle, which by its irregular way of making the Flame blaze, had melted down a good part of the Tallow, and would have spoil'd the rest, if I had not call'd to one of those that Watch'd with me, to rescue the remains by the removal of the Thief. But I had scarce done this, when, I confess to you, (Sophronia) I found my self invited to make some Reflections upon what I had done, and to read my self a new Lesson by the Beams of this new Light: For though this Thief made the Candle shine more strongly, and diffuse a much greater Light than it did before; yet because it made a great and irregular waste of the Candle, I order'd it to be taken away; and on this occasion me-thought I might justly make use of that saying of Pharaoh's forgetfull Butler, I do remember my Faults this Day, Gen. 41. 9. For though I find no great
difficulty in abstaining from other kinds of Intemperance, yet to that of Studying, my Friends, and especially my Physitians, have often accus'd me of being too Indulgent: Nor can I altogether deny, but that in men∣tal Exercises, there can be Exorbitancies, and Excesses, I may have sometimes been Guilty of them; and that the things for which I think Life valuable, being the satis∣faction that accrues from the improvement of Knowledge, and the exercise of Piety, I thought it allowable, if not commen∣dable, to consume or hazard it for the at∣tainment of those Ends; and esteem'd Sick∣ness more formidable for its unfitting me to learn, and to teach, than for its being attended with pain and danger, and look'd upon what it made me forbear, as far more troublesome than what ever else it made me endure. But I find my Body is a Jade, and tyres under my Mind, and a few hours fix'd Contemplation does sensibly so spend my Spirits, as to make me feel my self more weary that the Riding post for twice as many hours has ever done. Where∣fore, since, though the proper use of a Candle be to consume it self, that it may give others Light, I yet thought fit to have the Thief taken away, because, though it made the Candle give more Light, it would
have wasted it too fast, and consequently made it expire too soon; I see not how I can resist their perswasions, that would have me husband better the little stock of strength Nature has given me, and the rather, by a moderate expence of it, endea∣vour to make it shine longe, though but Dimly, then consume it to fast, though for a while to keep up a Blaze: I will there∣fore endeavour to learn of this Sickness, and of this Accident, what the Doctors hitherto could never teach me, and injoyn my self an Abstinence, which to me is more uneasie, than if Wine, or VVomen, or other sensual Pleasures were to be the Objects of it; but if in so difficult an Ex∣ercise of Self-denial, I do not always per∣form what I am now perswaded to, 'tis like I shall easily forgive my self, for but a little hastning the end of my Life to attain the ends of it.
I Know that Physitians are wont after their Master Hypocrates, to tell us, That
Feavers which intermit are devoid of Dan∣ger: But though an Ague, whilst it con∣tinues such, could not be a mortal Disease; yet why may it not degenerate into such a one? And for my part, who take the Prognosticks of Physitians to be but Guesses, not Prophesies, and know how backward they are to bid us fear, till our Condition leave them little hopes of us: I cannot but think that Patient very ill ad∣vis'd, who thinks it not time to entertain thoughts of Death, as long as his Doctor allows him any hopes of Life; for in case they should both be deceiv'd, 'twould be much easier for the mistaken Physitian to save his Credit, than for the unprepar'd Sinner to save his Soul.
Wherefore, Sophronia, finding my Dis∣ease attended with unusual threatning Symptoms, not knowing where they would end, I last Night thought it fit to suppose they might end in Death: And two things especially made me the more ready for such an entertainment of my Thoughts.
One, That we can scarce be too carefull and diligent in fitting our selves for the Acting of a part well, that we can never Act but once; For where the Scripture tells
us, It is appointed for all Men once to Dye; it is immediately subjoyn'd, That after that comes Judgment; and if we Dye ill once, we shall never be allow'd to Dye again, to see if we would Dye better the second time than we did the first: But as the Wise man Allegorically speaks, Where the Tree falls there shall it lye: So that the faults com∣mitted in this last and importantest of hu∣mane Actions, being irreparable, I think the only safe way is to imitate him, who, having said, If a Man Dye, shall he Live a∣gain? presently annex'd by way of Infe∣rence and Resolution: All the Days of my appointed Time will I wait till my Change come.
The other consideration that recom∣mended to me the Thoughts of the Grave, was this, That we may be often sollicitous to provide against many Evils and Dangers that possibly may never reach us; and many endure from the Anxious fears of contin∣gent Mischiefs that never will befall them, more Torment than the apprehended Mis∣chiefs themselves, though really suffer'd, would inflict. But Death will sooner or later infallibly come, and never finally de∣ceive our Expectations, and therefore the fore-thoughts of it are an imployment which may prove, we know not how soon,
of use, and will (however) prove of excellent Advantage: The frequent Medi∣tation of the end of our Lives, conducing so much to make us lead them well, that the expectation of Death brings not less Advantages to those that scape the Grave, than to those that descend into it.
Such like considerations (Sophronia) having put me upon the thoughts of Death, I presume you may have some Curiosity to know what these Thoughts were; and therefore, though I have neither Fitness, nor Inclination to mention to you those that almost every Sober person would have upon a Death-Bed, as a Man, and as a Christian, I will only take notice to you of those few that were suggested to me, by the less general Circumstances of my con∣dition. And I am the more willing to sa∣tisfie you Curiosity now, because I have my self been very inquisitive on the like occasion: For the approach of Death will (if any thing can) make Men serious and considerate, being for good and all to go off the Stage; they make a truer and sin∣cerer Judgment of the World they are ready to leave, and then have not the wont∣ed Partiality for the pleasures and profits of a Life they are now abandoning. And as the Mind looks with other Eyes upon
the World, when Death is ready to shut those of the Body; so Men are then wont as well to speak their Thoughts more franckly, as to have them better grounded. Death stripping most Men of their Dissimu∣lation, as well as of other things it makes them part with; and indeed it is then high time for the Soul to put off her Disguises, when she is ready to put off the very Body it self.
One thing then that I was considering, (Sophronia) was, in how wretched a con∣dition I should now be, if I had been of the same Mind with the generality of those, who are of the same Age with me: For these presume, That Youth is as well made for Pleasures, as capable of them, and is not more a Temptation to Vanity, than an Excuse for it. They imagine themselves to do a great Matter, if, whilst Youth lasts, they do so much as resolve to grow better when it is gone; and they think, That for a Man to be otherwise than Intentionally Religious before his Hair begin to change Colour, were not only to lose the privi∣ledges of Youth, but to incroach upon those of old Age. But alas! How few are Destroy'd by that incurable Disease, in comparison to those that Dye before they attain it? And how little comfort is it upon
a Death Bed, to think, that by the course of Nature, a Man might have Lived lon∣ger, when that very Thought might justly prove Dismal to an unprepar'd Man, by suggesting to him, that this early Death may argue the Measure of his Iniquities exceeding great, and that this untimely End is not so much a Debt due to Nature, as a Punishment of Sin. All the fruition of these deluding Pleasures of Sin, cannot countervail the Horrour that a Dying Man's Review of them will create, who not only sees himself upon the point of leaving them for ever, but of suffering for them as long. And on the contrary, the Review of Youthfull pleasures declin'd for Virtue's or Religion's sake, will afford a Dying Man far higher Joys than their Fruition would ever have afforded him.
ANd one thing more there is, (Sophro∣nia) that I dare not conceal from you, how much cause soever I have to blush at the disclosing it; And it is, That I judge quite otherwise of a competent
preparation for Death now I am near it, than I did when I was in health. And therefore, if one, that, since his Conscience was first thorowly awakened, still resolv'd to be a Christian, and though he too often broke those good Resolutions, never re∣nounc'd them, but tripp'd and stumbled in the way to Heaven, without quitting his purpose of continuing in it, finds a formi∣dableness in the approach of Death: How uncomfortable must that approach be to those that have still run on in the ways of Sin, without once so much as seriously in∣tending to forsake them? A Youth free from Scandal, and sometimes productive of Practices that were somewhat more than Negative piety, is not so frequent among those that want not opportunities to enjoy the Vanities and Pleasures of the World, but that the Charity of other being secon∣ded by that great inward flatterer Self-love, made me imagine that I was in a Condition fitter to wish for Death, than to fear it. But now I come to look on Death near at hand, and see beyond the Grave, that is just under me, that bottomless Gulf of Eter∣nity; me-thinks it is a very hard thing to be sufficiently prepar'd for a Change, that will transmit us to the Barr of an Omni∣scient Judge, to be there Doom'd to an end∣less
state of infinite Happiness or Misery. There is no Art of Memory like a Death-Bed's Review of ones Life; Sickness, and a nearer Prospect of Death, often makes a Man remember those Actions wherein Youth and Jollity made him forget his Duty; and those frivolous Arguments, which when he was in Health, and free from Danger, were able to excuse him to his own indulgent Thoughts, he himself will scarce now think Valid enough to ex∣cuse him unto God, before whom, if the sinless Angels cover their Faces, sinfull Mor∣tals may justly tremble to be brought to appear. VVhen the approach of Death makes the Bodily eyes grow Dim, those of the Conscience are enabled to discern, That as to many of the Pleas we formerly acquiesc'd in, it was the prevalence of our Senses that made us think them Reason: And none of that Jolly company, whose examples prevail'd with us to joyn with them in a course of Vanity, will stand by us at the Barr to excuse the Actions they tempted us to: And if they were there, they would be so far from being able to justifie us, that they would be condemn'd themselves. 'Tis true, (Sophronia) if we consider Death only as the conclusion of Life, and a Debt all Men sooner or later
pay to Nature, not only a Christian, but a Man, may entertain it without Horrour: But if one consider it as a change, That after having left his Body to rot in the Grave, will bring his Soul to the Tribunal of God, to answer the miscarriages of his whole past Life, and receive there an unal∣terable Sentence that will Doom him to endless and unconceivable Joys, or ever∣lasting and inexpressible Torments; I think 'tis not inconsistent either with Piety or Courage, to look upon so great a change with something of Commotion: And many that would not fear to be put out of the VVorld, will apprehend to be let into Eternity.
ANother thing, Sophronia, which my present state suggested to me, was, a Reflection on the great mistake of those that think a Death-Bed the fittest and op∣portunest place to begin Repentance in: But sure these Men are very little acquaint∣ed, either with the disadvantages of a dan∣gerous Sickness, or the nature of Repen∣tance.
'Tis true, that Sin and Death do more easily frighten one, when they are look'd on as both together: But I much doubt whether the being frighted by Hell, be sufficient to give a Man a well-grounded hope of Heaven: For when we see Sin and Torment at one view, and so near one to another, 'tis not so easie to be sure which of the two it is that, as we presume, scares the Sinner towards Heaven. And surely Repentance, which ought to be the change of the whole Man, and in some sense the work of the whole Life, is very improper∣ly begun, when Men have finished that course, which it should have guided them in: Nor have Men cause to presume, that when God is severely punishing them for their Sins, he will vouchsafe them so great a Grace as that of Repentance, which they would none of, till it could not make them serviceable to him. And as for the oppor∣nity 'tis hop'd an expiring State may give Men for Repentance, they must needs be great Strangers to great Sicknesses, that can promise themselves so unlikely a matter: VVho can secure them, that the Acuteness of the Disease will not invade the Brain? and as Deliriums and Phrensies are not un∣frequent in Feavers, and other acute Dis∣eases, so in case they happen to persevere,
the VVretch'd patient is cast into a despe∣rate condition, ev'n on this side the Grave, and as near as the Body is to its Dissolution, the Man may be Dead a pretty while before it.
But supposing he escape these Accidents, which make Repentance impossible, a dan∣gerous Sickness has other Circumstances enough to make it very uneasie: For the Organical faculties of the Mind cannot but be dull'd and prejudic'd by the Discompo∣sure of the Spirits, by which their Fun∣ctions are to be exercis'd; and the sense of Pain, the troublesome prescriptions of Physitians, the loathsome and bitter Poti∣ons, the weakning Operation of Physick, the Languishments produced by want of Spirits, the Restlessness proceeding from Heat and want of Sleep, the distracting Importunity of those interested Persons, especially if any of them be suspected to hover about the Dying Man's Bed, as Birds of Prey that wait for a Carcass, the Sighs and Tears of Friends and Relations that come to take their last Farewell, and to Im∣bitter it, The Lawyer that must be di∣rected to draw up the VVill, the Divine that must be allowed to say something con∣cerning the Soul, and the affrighted Con∣science, that alone brings more disquiet
than all the rest put together, do make a Dying Man's condition so Amazing, so Dismal, and so Distracting, that to think this an Opportune time to begin such a work, (which may well enough imploy the whole Man in his calmest state of mind) is a Madness as great as any, that ev'n a Death-Bed can, by the translation of the Humours into the Brain, occasion: For my part, I think it so wild, and so unadvisable a thing to put off the beginning to provide all Graces to a Death-Bed, that I think it uneasie enough so much as to exercise then those that were acquir'd before; Men being in that state commonly unable so much as to Reap the consolation they have been Sowing all along a pious Life.
And this (Sophronia) brings into my mind a consideration, which being taken from the very nature of a Death-Bed Re∣pentance, should me-thinks very much deterr Men from resolving before hand to rely on it; And it is this, That granting those (Socians, and others) to be mista∣ken, that think so late a Repentance to come too late to be available; yet the Dying Sinner, though he may be kept from dispair of passing to Heaven, can scarce in an ordinary way have a comfortable assu∣rance of getting thither! For though it be
said, That a true Repentance cannot come too late, yet it is a hard thing to be certain, that so late a Repentance is true. Since Repentance confessedly importeth an aban∣doning and renouncing of Sin, at least in Hearty purpose and resolution; 'tis very difficult for an habitual Sinner, that remem∣bers what vows and purposes of change of Life, Sicknesses or Dangers have for∣merly induc'd him to make, which were forgotten, or violated, when the appre∣hensions that occasion'd them were over; 'tis hard I say for such a One to be sure, that his present Repentance is not of the same ignoble and uncurrent kind, since he has no Experience to satisfie him that it would be ordinarily, though not constantly, prevalent over the opposite Temptations; and since also (which is mainly to be con∣sider'd) 'tis so easie for a Man to mistake for the true hatred of Sin, and the love of God, a horrour of Sin springing from the present painfull sense of the Mischief pro∣cur'd by it, together with the great fear of the approaching Torments that it threatens, and a strong desire of going to Heaven, when seeing himself unable to stay any lon∣ger on Earth, he must get thither to escape Hell. And as it is thus difficult, when a Man already feels much Punishment for
Sin, and sees himself in danger of more, to discern clearly upon what account it is, that he is sorry for what he has committed; so it must be certainly a state unspeakably anxious and uncomfortable to find ones self dragg'd to the Grave, without know∣ing whether the last Trumpet shall call him thence to Heaven, or to Hell: And if he should be deceiv'd in judging of the Validity of his Repentance, the fatal er∣rour would be remediless, and the mistake far sadder and more horrid than that of the Syrians, who, when they thought they were arriv'd Victorious at Dothan, found themselves at the mercy of their Enemies in Samaria, 2 Kings 6. 18. To conclude, (Sophronia) he that resolves not to re∣nounce his Sins, till he thinks Christ ready to renounce him for them, may very pro∣bably lose his Soul, and has most certainly lost his Ingenuity; and that will appear a very sad loss for a Man, that being by Death denied the opportunities of actually lead∣ing a new and pious Life, must derive his comfort from the assurance that he sincerely intends it.
I Have now at length, Eusebia, by the goodness of God, regain'd that measure of Health, which makes the Doctor allow me to return to my former Studies, and Recreations, and Dyet; and in a word, to my wonted course of Life, so that the Phy∣sitian having dismiss'd himself, nothing seems more seasonable and pertinent to my present Condition, than that of our Saviour to the Paralitick Man, to whom he gave both Recovery, and an Admonition, which, if he obey'd, he found the more advan∣tagious of the two; Behold, thou art made whole, Sin no more, least a worse thing come unto thee. But I am not so free from the apprehensions of an Ague, as my Friends think me from the danger of it: For ha∣ving sadly Experienc'd the uneasiness of Sickness, I am thereby brought, though at no easie Rate, to set a high Value upon Health, and be a very Jealous Preserver of so great a Blessing; and those petty Chil∣nesses that formerly I regarded not, but was apt to impute to nothing but Fumes of the Spleen, or Melancholy Vapours, are now
able to give me hot Alarms, and make me apt to fancy them the fore-runners, if not the beginners, of the Cold fit of an Ague, the first Invasion of that Disease having been preceded by the like Distempers; and accordingly, I carefully avoid the least Ir∣regularities in point of Dyet, or of any other kind that may any ways endanger a Relapse into the Disease that once handl'd me so ill. But why should I be more ap∣prehensive for my Body than my Mind; and if at any time (as it may but too often happen) any Sin should come to be pre∣valent in my Mind, why should I not be sollicitously afraid of all the occasions and approaches of it, and tremble at these Com∣motions of the Appetite, which would not else perhaps be formidable to me, in case I have found that such Beginnings indulg'd or neglected have ended in actual Sin, the real Disease of the Soul; and as dange∣rous Sicknesses do for the most part leave a crasie Disposition behind them, which threatens Relapses, so Sins once prevalent, though afterwards supprest, do yet leave behind them a secret Disposition or Pro∣pensity to the Repetition of the same faults; and as 'tis less difficult to find examples of Bodily Diseases, than of Spiritual ones, where the Patient is protected from Re∣lapses,
so I think we should be more watch∣full against falling back into the Sins, than into the Sicknesses, we have once found our selves subject to, unless we would think, that a greater Danger, and of a Nobler part, deserv'd less of our care.
EIther my Curiosity, Sophronia, or my Value of Health, has made it my Custom, when I have pass'd through a course of Physick, to review the particu∣lars it consisted of; That taking notice by what Remedies I found most good, and by what, little or none; if I should fall into the like Distemper for the future, I might derive some advantage from my past Ex∣perience. In compliance with this Custom, as I was this Day reviewing and putting together the Doctor's several Prescriptions sent me back by the Apothecary; Good God! said I, in my self, what a multitude of unpleasant Medicines have I been or∣der'd to take: The very Numbring, and
Reading them were able to Discompose me, and make me almost Sick, though the ta∣king of them help'd to make me VVell. And certainly, if when I was about to enter into a course of Physick, all these loath∣some Medicines, and uneasie Prescriptions, had been presented to me together, as things I must take, and comply with, I should have utterly despair'd of a Recovery that must be so obtain'd, and should not perhaps have undertaken so difficult and tedious a Work, out of an apprehension that it would prove impossible for me to go tho∣row with it. Thus when a Man considers the Duties, and the Mortifications, that are requisite to a recovery out of a state of Sin, into a state of Grace, he must be resolute enough, if he be not deterr'd from under∣taking the conditions that Piety requires, by so many and great difficulties as will present themselves to his affrighted Ima∣gination: But let not this make him De∣spondent; for 'tis true, that these dis∣composing Medicines, if I must have taken so much as a tenth part of them in one Day, would have either dispatch'd me, or dis∣abled me to endure the taking any the next. But then, although I now see these trouble∣some Prescriptions all at once, I did not use them so, but took only one or two harsh
Remedies in one Day, and thereby was enabled to bear them, especially being as∣sisted by moderate Intervalls of Respite, and supported both by other seasonable Cordials, and by that highest Cordial, the Hope that the use of these troublesome means of Recovery would soon free me from the need of them. And thus, though the hardships of Piety are, by the Ghostly and Carnal enemies of it, wont to be re∣presented to one that begins to grow a Convert, so great and formidable a Multi∣tude as to be insuperable; yet if he con∣sider, that though his fore-sight meet with them all at once, yet he will need to grap∣ple with them but one after another, and may be as well able to overcome a Temp∣tation this Day, or to Morrow, as he did another Yesterday: So that to this case also may in some sense be applied, that (either Counsel, or Precept) of our Sa∣viour, not to be sollicitous for to Morrow, but to charge no more upon a Day than the trouble that belongs to it. And if he con∣siders too, That as a wise Physitian has al∣ways a great care, that his Remedies be not disproportionate to the Patient's Strength, and after harsh Physick to relieve him with Cordials, so God will not suffer those that intrust themselves to him to be
tempted above what they are able; but will allow them Cordials after their Suffer∣ings, in case he do not turn the Sufferings themselves into Cordials. If (I say) our new Convert shall consider things of this Nature, he will not be much discou∣rag'd by the appearance of difficulties, that will as much ennoble and indear his success, as they can oppose it; and he will never despair of Victory in an engage∣ment, where he may justly hope to have God for his Second, and Heaven for his Reward.
A name often given by the Au∣thor to his excellent Si∣ster R. who was almost always with him during his Sickness.
Rom.. 8. 13.
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.