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Thou art surprized with Sickness; whose fault is this but thine own? Who bade thee not to look for so sure a guest? The very frame of thy body should have put thee in∣to other thoughts: Dost thou see this living fabrick made up as a clock consisting of so
many wheels, and gimmers? and couldst thou imagine that some of them should not be ever out of order? Couldst thou think that a Cottage, not too strongly built, and standing so bleak in the very mouth of the Windes, could for any long time hold tight, and unreaved? Yea, dost thou not rather wonder that it hath out-stood so many blustring blasts, thus long, utterly un∣ruined? or that the wires of that engine should so long have held pace with time? It was scarce 〈◊〉〈◊〉 patient que∣stion which Job asked: Is my strength the strength of stones? or is my fl••sh as brass? No, alas, Job, thy best metal is but ••lay; and thine, as all flesh,
is grasse; the clay moulde∣reth, and the grasse withe∣reth; what doe we make ac∣count of any thing but mi∣sery and ficklenesse in this wofull region of change? If we will needs over-reckon our condition, we doe but help to aggravate our owne wretchednesse.
Job 6. 12