An historical anatomy of Christian melancholy, sympathetically set forth, in a threefold state of the soul. 1 Endued with grace, 2 ensnared in sin, 3 troubled in conscience. With a concluding meditation on the fourth verse of the ninth chapter of Saint John. / By Edmund Gregory, sometimes Bachelour of Arts in Trin. Coll. Oxon.

Of the Soule ensnared in sinne.

NEmo repente fuit turpissimus; Sinne creeps on by de∣grees; but woe is us to what an exceeding height, and to what intolerable an increase is it able to grow? grow I say, heavier then the sand of the Sea in weight, and more in number; even sufficient to fill whole volumes: for who is able to find out all his ini∣quities, or reckon up his sinnes? who knoweth, saith David, how often he offendeth? Sinne in a wicked soule is so unmercifull a thing, that it hath no limits nor bounds of extent; it is that over-flowing Flood in the Scriptures, which drowned the old inhabitants of the earth; it is that raging sulphurous fire which burnt up the Cities of the ungodly; or if you will that Phaetons fire amongst the Poets, which enflamed the whole world; for no sooner doe we let at liberty our affecti∣ons from the yoke of discipline and good order, from that narrow path, and rule of vertue,

In cujus medio tutissimus ibis,

O man, in the midst of which thou safely mightst go, but presently wee act out the true Morall of Phaetons Fable. Phaeton let loose the reines to his frolick Horses, and they carry him (as the fiction goes) to the firing of the world, and his owne destruction; we doe but let goe the reines to our will and affections, and they car∣ry us likewise headlong to our unavoidable destruction, and to the setting on fire of this Microcosme, this little world of ours; here we may well note, that Religio a religando vere dicta est, Religion is truly so call'd from ty∣ing back the affections; and therefore now when once conscience doth thus let slip the reines of discipline, and

its due care of the soule, our little world, as I say, is all on fi••e; our thoughts, desires, and affections being as it were without God and his feare, are altogether flaming with the distemper'd heat of worldly cares, of ambiti∣ous projects, of lustfull courses, of impatio••t distra∣ctions, and the like; these things doe freely range a∣broad in t••e mind, doe take their pleasure and pastime therein.

Like School boyes, when their Master's gone away, They presently are at their roguish play: Iust so, when that the Conscience leaves to rule Our thoughts, the Devill forthwith keeps the Schoole.

And because our inside is thus unframed with disor∣der, that wee neglect Religion, and leave off the ne∣cessary managing and manuring of the soule by repen∣tance; sinne by little and little, becomes habituall un∣to us, an ordinary and unregarded thing; so that in a while Melancholy making the mind more eager and in∣tentivel•• let in al its courses, what either by being drawn to the impatient expectation of what wee would have, by feeding our selves with the pleasing fruition of that we doe enjoy, or vexing our selves with the feare of what may befall us, or with the griefe of that which doth already disaffect us, it is so, that for the most part there is very little space wherein our phancie is not in action with some one of these; such and such like things doe so seriously take up our time, and so earnestly em∣ploy our thoughts that our minds can hardly get leave at any time to bee at leisure for the common duties of Christianity: for when at our necessary oppor••unities, we goe about to reade the Scriptures, to meditate on good matters, or pray unto the Almighty; how exceed∣ing difficult is it for us to draw off our imagination from those other things, and set it upon these? or if we doe take it off, it is but as in haste with a longing to be at

them again: As also that little praying, meditating, or reading which we do at any time now employ our selves in, doth altogether methinks passe away without any sweetnesse in't; it hath no more relish to us (for the most part) then even as it were a rotten stick, or a thing of nought; so superficially doth it slip away on the outside of our souls.

In every thing, 'tis the delightful sweet Thereof, that doth with our affection meet.

I say, It is the sweetnesse thereof that joyns it closely to the thoughts, and unites it to the affections; and there∣fore these duties and the like being so out of relish with us, we have but little minde on them, we coldly regard them, and in a manner wholly neglect them; or if per∣adventure the fashion of the times tend thereunto, and that we can smoothly stop up the mouth of truth-know∣ing Conscience with some daubing satisfaction: we may, I say, we may some of us retain the outside, when we have lost the inside; we may seem to be delighted with an oral formality, when as it is no whit cordial within us; like unto shallow brooks that make a great noise with a little water; the shadow still continuing with us, whilst the substance is stollen away. But to go on in that way which is most usual: I say, The sub∣stantial deepnesse of true inward pleasure and delight in divine things being rooted up, pulls away with it the outward use of reading, meditating, and the like: so that we are seldom conversant in these things, although the liberty of our time give us opportunity for it never so conveniently: for it is to be noted, a truely willing minde can finde out shreds enough of time to bestow in that way, even in the busiest and most industrious Calling. And as for that more excellent gift of the Spirit, Prayer, that Princely Diadem amongst all hea∣venly graces, from whence all other divine blessings

do borrow some lustre and advantage; how far is the familiar acquaintance thereof gone from our souls? when as all our private devotion is now posted off to the publike; and that also so slenderly and coldly per∣formed by us, that the practice thereof is held on, it may be, rather for fashion sake then devotion; more with the motion of our lips then with the affection of the heart; following the publike exercise rather for fear of shame and reproach; I say, rather to keep touch and turn with the common Custome, then out of any religious care or good will thereunto: for though the Sabbath be but once a week, yet shall we most times be then glad, if occasion bee handsomly offer'd us to 'bide at home, and omit that duty.

It is too wet, or else it is too cold; And we can pray even as well here as there: These poor excuses, they are quickly told, When as God knows we pray not any where.

Again, as Prayer, so the Hearing of the Word is as much neglected by us, or as ill used, when we now sit at Sermons, it is more perchance with a censorious ear, like Moderatours to give judgement, and passe our opi∣nion, rather then as diligent Auditours, with humble hearts to receive instruction. If the Preacher doth but meanly perform his exercise, we are then ready to slight it, as a thing belowe us, and not worth our heeding: but if he go beyond us in his Learning and good parts, we are on the other side peradventure discon∣ted in our selves, for that he exceedeth the reach of our capacity and qualification: for lo, we feel and finde as in this, so in all other things (it is worth observation) we finde, I say, that Nature is always so partial unto it self, that it is never tho∣rowly pleased, and fully contented, except every

thing succeed to the setting up of it selfe, and its owne advancement; and therefore that it hath got the ad∣vantage, it taketh its full selfe-contenting pleasure, and recreation without controle; diverting the whole course of our thoughts, words, and actions to serve its turne herein: yet for although conscience hath lost its prevayling command within us, neverthelesse it ceaseth not ever and anon to give us a call, and perhaps amidst our chiefest and securest sinnes, awaken us with a deep touching item, and remembrance of our selves; but onely flashing up our eyes wee fall asleep againe: and thus act on the story.

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

The Plowman of his oxe, The Ship-man tels his mind, The Shepherd keeps his sheepe, The Souldier wounds in mind.

Every one, saith the Poet, thinks and talkes most of that which hee hath most to doe with, and doth most affect; and here nature principally begins to play her part, and shew her affection; our selfe accusing, and im∣patient mind cannot abide the rehearfall of miseries; unhappinesse and affliction; the hideous newes of such things is too rough for our tender thoughts to meddle with; whatever come of it hereafter, we must by all meanes put off for the present, as farre as may be from us that day of the Lord, and righteous retribution of his most just vengeance: againe, also the deadnesse of heart maketh our soule to loath abhorre and leave off to hear and speak of holy and pious subjects, as the dispraise of vice, the commendation of vertue; the maner and means of Mortification; of Sanctification, of our Re∣demption, and the like; snuffling away all such matters

if it be possible, into other discourse: because we feele our hearts so dead and rotten inward, that these things doe nothing else but secretly speake the Condemnation and shame of our owne lives: and therefore when as out of the abundance of the heart (as saith our Savi∣our) the mouth speaketh, therefore I say on the other side, our thoughts being alwaye. for the most part vain∣ly and outwardly disposed; our delight is to be talking of vanity all the day long, to be asking after, and tel∣ling of newes, whereby to claw our idle phansie with, or it may be questioning how rich others be, what con∣dition they are in, how they doe thrive and the like; our Melancholy thoughts mainly labouring with emulation against others: and such verily is alwayes the rivality and inward striving betwixt equals, or those that be neer equals in the same kind, that sure I cannot thinke that it is a quality much lesse then naturall unto all man∣kind, so to contend in affectation of desire; this emula∣tion was there amongst the Patriarks when they sold Ioseph, and amongst the Apostles when they vie'd who should be the greatest: and thus our minds being so wholly set on earthly things, and things of this world, it is seldome that we can thinke upon those men that are in a little better prosperity then our selves, but with the eye of envious emulation, counting it as so much the worse for us, and an eye-sore to our state and reputati∣on that they goe beyond us; and againe taking it as it were somewhat the better for us; and applauding our selves in content therewith, if they fall out and appeare to be somewhat under the condition that we our selves are in; thus as wee doe enviously thinke that too much which our successefull neighbours have, and enjoy, and swell after their happinesse with indignation at our owne; so also are we many times unhappy in our own happinesse without any comparison at all, or in respect of others; but meerly in our selves, and in regard of our owne bottomlesse desires, thinking all too little that

we have, although we do not think of any that have more; just as the Poet, in a similitude of covetous men,

Quo plus sunt potae plus sitiuntur aquae,

The more they drink, the more they are athirst: so may we truely say of our selves, in the words of the Prophet Habakkuk, Chap. 3, We enlarge our desire as hell and as death, which cannot be satisfied. What we have already, methinks, serves but as the sawce to set an edge to the stomack to receive more, as if we had a consu∣ming Wolf in our brest, or those two daughters of the Horsleech which Solomon speaks of in Prov. 30, which have no other language but continual crying out, Give, give more still, and yet more, and yet no content.

He is not rich whose minde doth keep him poor; He onely hath enough, that seeks no more.

Nay farther, our apprehension is apt to be so subtilly deluded with this vice, that, as if avarice were a vertue, we shall be ready to think and say, of any one that is an hard and unreasonably-neer man in his dealings and commerce with others, and that will stand out for the utmost farthing in every thing, though it be never so justly due and to be yeelded unto; of such a one, I say, who hath cunningly learnt to oppresse the poor man by the advantage of his necessity, we shall be ready thus to think and say, I warrant he is wise enough, he will look to himself, he will not be fool'd of his goods; taking his exam∣ple as a lawful patern for us to imitate. But of one that is a conscionable, honest and plain-dealing man, that will not stand so eagerly, nor practise such policie for gain; we are likely to judge him as an easie fool, and not wise enough to live in the world. But O alas, one day, one day peradventure we shall see that the wise∣dom

of this world is foolishnesse with God; acknowledging our mistake herein as they did, who once said in the sorrow∣ful conviction of their souls: We fools counted this mans life (this quiet honest mans life) madnesse, and his end to be without honour: but see! how is he numbred amongst the children of God, and his lot is amongst the Saints: therefore have we erred. When the soul (having forsaken God) begins to go alone, and to trust to its own strength, so full do we presently grow with superfluity of outward Sense and humane Wisedom, that be we never so lightly toucht with any thing which seems to waste and decay our temporal subsistence; if once our Egyptian staff, this confidence on outward things never so little begin to crack; how are we ready to fall in••o utter de∣spair? Sure we cannot continue with such a charge; we cannot hold out long in such losses or expences: our narrow hearts, Nabal-like, grunting and grumbling for fear that we shall not have enough for our selves to live by. O thou unhap∣pie soul of man in all distresses, doubts and calamities!

What patience or comfort canst thou have, Who trustest in such things that cannot save?

Now and then, like prisoners within the Grate, we may look out into the fresh air, and see the golden hap∣pinesse of the day, though we cannot get out and enjoy it: we shall peradventure now sometimes think upon Repentance, and gaze afar off on the joyful condition of the soul, desiring that we could be delivered from this bondage of sin: nay, and it may be we do also strive somewhat, and endeavour our thoughts thereunto; but alas, it takes no firm holdfast in our brests, it goes not thorow the heart, nor seriously to the quick as it should; but suddenly it passeth away again without effect:

or if it doth take any hold in us, it is very momentany & of short continuance obscured quickly with the clouds of sinne, and altogether forgotten; for let us know that Conscience even in the freest and fullest pursuite of sin is many times, so reall and urgent with us, that it will not be sleighted, but either by excusing our selves, by mitigating the nature of sinne, by a seeming repentance, or the like, we must needs give it some content, though it be but as a meere dulusion for the time, and to no purpose at all; but I prosecute the patterne of our in∣tention; in like manner as Melancholy joyned with so∣litary privacy is wont to make good Meditations in the time of grace take the deeper root in nature; so like∣wise it being united with a retired solitarinesse maketh evill thoughts in the time of sinne much more stub∣bornely to persist within us, cleaving a great deale the faster to our apprehension, and fixing a farre sore im∣pression in our soules.

Sad Melancholy is truly then in kind, When silence locks the closet of the mind.

Then doth mischiefe take greatest advantage when it gets the soule to be alone by her selfe; for Homo solus aut deus aut daemon, the solitary and alone man is usually ei∣ther exceeding good in his thoughts, or exceeding bad; and therefore now wee find out of due experience now I say when as grace is not able to master our cor∣ruption, that it is much better for us to use a sociable and jocund behaviour towards others, addressing our selves in a complying Familia ity with good honest company in civill recreation, then to be much retired alone, though it may seem more strict, because this ve∣rily is many times a meanes to put us from farre worse things and greater inconveniences; natures that are composed to Melancholy, wee may fitly conceive to be much like Iron, which receives a greater heat of fire

into it, and retains it longer then those things which are of a rare and thin substance; for we always feel these solitary, these sad and melancholy sins of ours to be of a far deeper dye, and to wound our Consciences more dangerously then those other lighter kinde of sins, those merry, as I may so call them, and superficial sins: these sad ones, I say, are worse, because they are moulded with deliberation in the heart, and come from a setled good-will and determinate in∣tention; but those other, those merry ones, are one∣ly for the most part as sudden flashes arising more in∣considerately, and passing away as a guest of one night.

Well, to proceed in Anatomizing the particulars of this our now sin-sick soul: The wicked, saith Solomon, fleeth when none pursueth him. An evil Conscience having moved the foundation of our Spiritual comfort, eve∣ry bush is a thief with us, every thing becomes our enemy, though not really, yet in conceit. How often and how apt are we now presently to terrifie, disqui∣et and affright our selves at nothing, perchance but at the very shadow of things? for but thus, if we fall out with any neighbour or others into enmity and dis∣content; if but once we drink into our brests a per∣fect distaste, there's no digesting, no forgetting, nothing but vexing in our souls: so many eager, fearing and fretful thoughts do constantly boyl up in our stomacks against him, that from thence for a good while toge∣ther, whole clouds of fears, of doubts and distempers do sollicitously overwhelm and passe over our heads: so that specially if we speak not with the party in a pretty space after, our close-kept thoughts are peradventure full of expecting his supposed malice is ready to do us the greatest mischief that may be, and so again are we there∣upon hatching and preparing perchance like motions of revenge against him, conceiving some cruel tyrany wher∣with to satisfie our selves upon him, little considering

that all this while for the most part we do but fight with our own fancie, fearing where no fear is, and concei∣ving revenge where there is no cause of revenge: for at length having spoken with our adversary, and un∣folded our selves together, we shall most times finde that he hath scarce had any the least ill imagination a∣gainst us; and so by a true hearted disclosing our minde one to the other, we are perhaps easily undecei∣ved, and become friends again: whereas the muing up our selves from our enemy in a melancholy strangenesse and squint-ey'd retire, might breed a continual and a deep Conscience-wounding grudge betwixt us.

The sullen man that's discontent. bis life ne'er wanteth wo: If nothing else will him torment, his fancie proves his fo.

Moreover, the peevishnesse of our Nature, in like manner, for want of the confirming strength of Grace, is always apt to construe the words and actions of our enemy to the worst, taking every thing to be done by him either in despight, or malicious disgrace and con∣tempt of us; eagerly affecting and troubling our selves with that conceited fury of our enemy, which per∣chance is not in him; or if it be, it is that thing which we ought rather to pity then fight with; even common Christianity teaching us to have more wit and godly advisednesse, then as Solomon saith, to meddle with a fool in his folly, or with a mad-man in his madnesse; with an unmanly weaknesse o•• minde childishly in the same sense to reply again to that his madnesse and fury; but in stead thereof rather mildly and charitably to enter∣tain his foolish humour, knowing our selves also subject unto all infirmities. But we cannot refrain; this is our humour; we must needs deal back again the words and deeds that we do receive. Alas, how sweet is the de∣sire

of Retaliation and Revenge to the solitary nature, being without the directing power of Godlinesse? how can we put up such and such things? how can we chuse but retort again, Oh that we were so rich, so powerful as thus and thus? what an happinesse were it then for us to be able to crush our enemies, and to cut them off as we would desire?

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

Envy's a greater torture to the minde Then the Sicilian Tyrants ere did finde.

This is Envie, to our souls the very devil of all sins, that hellish tormentor of a melancholy minde, which wearies our thoughts with continual anguish and vexa∣tion of spirit. O Lord, when we well consider the whole scope of a sinful man, or this man of sin which is within us, we can∣not chuse but think how true it is which the Prophet Isaiah speaks by thy special command, Isai. 48. 22. that there is no peace unto the wicked: no peace, I say, not onely in regard of the sting of conscience which follows sin, but also in regard of the ensnaring and toilsome trouble of sin it self▪ Wo is us true∣ly, no peace indeed; with one thing or other we are still out of quiet, either sin by n••useating distempers doth disturb the health of the body, or by laborious and far engaged passions doth unset∣tle the rest of the minde. What peace at all is there long with∣in us? either immoderate fear, or care, or grief, or desire, is ever oppressing our thoughts. And here observe it, whilst that we walk with God, we are methinks fenc'd about with his favour, so that none can hurt us; for his An∣gels do pitch their tents for a guard round about them that serve him. But now for want of faith, what do we not fear? how far without reason doth this passion ex∣tend in our melancholy soul, even almost into an infi∣nite conceit? for as a Circle made in the water begets another Circle bigger then it self, and so that another

again bigger then it self, encreasing thus I know not how far; just so the doubts and fears of our minde, by solitary plodding upon them, will beget bigger and bigger, and so bigger still without end: thus where there is no faith, there is no end of fear: fear and un∣belief have the like proportion in us, and must needs go hand in hand together, as it is Revel. 21, the fearful, and unbelieving, and abominable, &c. Again, what trou∣bles doth the minde now many times undergo in the immoderate hoe and care for things to come, in labour∣ing to prevent and provide for such and such accidents, with the utmost of our power.

And yet perchance it doth no whit prevail; A strange event makes all our labour fail.

Many, even many is the time that we are unspeakably vext with the forethinking and contriving of that which in the end never comes to passe; I say, vext by framing of hopes, of intendments, and expectations upon these and these things, which most times one means or other, Gods providence or death doth quite disappoint and cut off, according as it is in Psalm 146. 4; for when the breath of man goeth forth, he shall return to his earth, and then all his thoughts perish: all his thoughts, even all the former hopes, expectations and imaginations of his heart: Blessed therefore, blessed is he, as it follows in the next verse, that hath the God of Jacob for his hope, and whose trust is in the Lord his God. Blessed is he that herein can take the easie yoke of our Saviour upon him, by casting his care upon God; thereby saving all that needlesse labour of too earnest carefulnesse and di∣strusting trouble of minde for the morrow, because suffi∣cient for the day is its own trouble.

But to tell on the souls unquiet state, When sin doth thus become predominate,

So uncontented and so eagerly frappish are we apt to be, through the uneasinesse of the soul for want of true inward rest and satisfaction; I say, so full of wrath, of passion and anger in all our thoughts, businesses and affairs, that the least and smallest occasion, is enough to make us fret, chafe, aed be most furiously moved with those either equals or inferiours with whom we have to do; we cannot chuse but unsheath our passio∣nate fury and outragious disturbance, into cniding and unquietnesse; we can by no means bridle our selves in the least degree; our humour must have its course; and then perchance afterwards, our thoughts reflecting up∣on themselves, do secretly check us, and make us sorry again for this our rashnesse, heartily wishing that we had not done so, and that we were at one with the par∣ty as before; onely that we be loth to confesse so much, or bewray the acknowledgement of our own errour. See the disquieting unhappinesse of sin! If we do not thus vent our wrath, we can be at no rest for fretting inwardly: and if we do vent it, we are displeased with our selves for doing it impatiently and undiscreetly: others cannot please us, and we cannot please our selves: What peaceful harmony of concord or content can there then be to our souls? I say, Others cannot please us; for nature hath so out of all reason bent us to our own courses, to our own minde, to our own wills in every thing, ut ferè nihil placet quod non nostrum est; that almost nothing contents us, but that which is of our own doing and contri∣ving; it even cuts to the gall to be any way crossed and contradicted in our intentions and desires: when we have once took an opinion, let it be ad∣vised by whom it will be, stiff-neck'd nature being

uncontroll'd by grace, it is so obstinate in her own sense, that 'tis as death for her not to have it go and be ac∣knowledged in her own way; and therefore let it fadge how it will, we must, I say, we must needs prevail in contending, though it be for the worse: and when at length we have thus peradventure through much diffi∣culty obtained our desire, and gotten our wills fulfill'd, even then also are not our thoughts happie therein: though for the present it might seem to delight us, yet are we not long well pleased therewith in our selves; nay, perhaps that also in the end gives our minde little satisfaction; 'tis nothing but our conceit, nothing but that we would have it so, and then would it had not been so; this is the course of it: so little peace of minde is there to that soul which is without God, and left alone in the snare of sin.

Sure enough it is, O let us observe it; I say, Sure enough, that our own will is always our worst enemy, could we but consider it: nay methinks, for all she seems to be as our onely friend, yet in truth we have no other enemy can do us hurt, but onely her: not the malice of all the creatures, men and devils in the world, are able to bring upon us the least unhappinesse without her help.

He that can then his own affections quell, Doth even as much as if he conquer'd hell.

It is this Own self and Will of ours that parts us from God, joyns us in society with the devil; and thus brings us at length (if not prevented by Grace) to the certain destruction both of body and soul. It is our Saviours counsel, that if our eye, hand, or other mem∣ber offend us, we should cut it off, and cast it from us: this doubtlesse is a most difficult thing, a hard saying, for a man to cut off his own flesh, that which is so close and neer unto him, and indeed I believe that wholly to

part our selves from our selves, is to divide indivisibilè, that which as long as we continue mortal men, is not to be divided: but to cut off those rank grown extrava∣gancies of our wills, this proud flesh, these limbs of the devil, that must needs be done, if we mean to follow Christ, and enter into heaven, unlesse together with them we will be cast into hell fire, to follow Christ: for this is the right way to follow him, by denying our selves; because we plainly finde both by his most holy Doctrine, Mark 8. 34, and Example, Mark 14. 36, that his busi∣nesse in this world was not to do any thing of his own will, the will of man, but in all things the will of him that sent him, even the will of God.

But further; to see what a deal of trouble and un∣quietnesse is there always stirring in the sinful minde of man? what a restlesse vexation another while do the ambitious projects and aspiring motions of our vain imagination put us unto? even so far, that sure me∣thinks it is an Ixion's task, or as a Bridewell-work to undergo the toil that such encroaching and climing thoughts many times torment us with. How doth our fancie labour to be so great, so high, so rich, that we had such an office or estate, that we were in the condi∣tion of such a man and such a man? and thus when we have vainly supposed so far and so far; when, like the Giants of whom the Poets do fable, we have set one mountain of ambitious desires upon another, yet then at last are we as far from satisfaction as they were from heaven.

Again, in the prosecution of our earthly policy, when the event of things that do much concern us frustrates our expectation, our lowe creeping mindes, that sacri∣fice onely to their own nets, to their own skill and wisedom; how do they snarl themselves in blinde con∣jectures? Lo, this doubtlesse was the cause that our businesse took not effect; it should have been done by such or such a means, it such or such a time, with these or these Circumstances; ••yring

out our selves to seek the reason thereof, like those blinde men that sought Lot's door and could not finde it; never thinking all this while on the Divine provi∣dence, which directeth all things, towards which our thoughts ought to aim their first and chief regard: and therefore it is that oftentimes we do try so many ways, spend so much time, break so many nights sleep, to no purpose: for sure, Except the Lord keep the Citie, all our la∣bour is lost, the watchman waketh but in vain. As Jehu an∣swered Jehoram, 2 Kings 9, so may we answer our thoughts, and with sufficient experience resolve our selves; What peace, content or rest can there be, so long as this Jezebel of sin raigns and remains within us?

No peace within, nor yet no peace without, But full of troubles, toils, and fears, and doubt. Our peace with all things utterly doth cease, Because with God we do not make our peace.

And thus on every side we both see and feel it, even too much, to our own grief, That there is no peace unto the wicked. The man of Sin, is a man of Trouble; trou∣ble in his minde with the distractions of sin; trouble in his conscience with fear of judgement; every way disturbed and out of rest: and yet lo, for all this, that there is so much unquietnesse, and trouble, and dis∣content in our sinnes, we are so strongly hampered and engaged therein, that there is no power in us to break off the bands thereof, or cast away her cords from us: through the habituated continuance there∣in, it is so hard and difficult for us to repent, I mean, fully and perfectly to repent, that it goes e∣ven against might to think of making up a reckon∣ing and an account with God: we are so totally as it were turned into sin it self, I mean, such an in∣vincible disposition of sinning in all our conversation,

that O who shall deliver us from this body of death? what course can we take to come out of this unhap∣pinesse? 'Tis high time to look about us, to raise our thoughts to some better notions: but such is the difficulty of true Repentance, that we cannot go thorow stitch with it; but this and this opportunity is still put off with excuses, with the presumptuous and flattering conceit that Gods mercy is infinite; we have had often and often trial of it; Doubtlesse we shall have some better time and more fitting season hereafter. But we who finde it so hard a matter at this time, a thou∣sand to one but that we finde it more difficult the next: the longer we continue in sin without due Repentance, the more methinks are we entangled with it, and day∣ly snarl'd the faster from getting out. O therefore let us take heed in time, and duely consider this, all we that now forget God; Consider this, I say, whilst we have time afforded us, lest in his wrath he sudden∣ly pluck us away, and there be none to deli∣ver us.

Here it is observable, according to what I have formerly intimated, that, though not usually, yet some∣times the Conscience is so cunningly daub'd up, that it seems within us to be as well satisfied with the out∣ward formality of Religion, as if it were in the state of grace and true reconciliation: our mouthes and the outside of our thoughts do draw neer unto God, when-as our hearts, the true depth of our heart, is far from him, even full of nothing but dead mens bones, the rottennesse and corruption of sin: we are, I say, thus so smoothly deluded in our selves, that we can seem boldly to chalenge acquaintance with Christ, and per∣haps think that we are able to boast of great matters in his Name, and yet for all that peradventure as it was with those in the Gospel, Mat. 7. peradventure, I say, Christ himself may never so much as know or ac∣knowledge one jot of Christianity within us: but

this deceitfulnesse of Religion, this superficial delight is easily discerned, if we mark it well, both by our selves and others, in that it is frequently wont to vent it self into a partial siding, contentious talking, part-taking and debating as those of whom the Apo∣stle speaks, that fell out about their Religion; I am of Paul, I am of Apollo, I am of Cephas; taking the sha∣dow for the substance, and mistaking the truth thereof, as though it were a thing so shallowly seated in the soul, that it consisted in wittinesse of discourse, sharp understanding, following of Opinions, and the like: no verily, the Kingdom of heaven, Religion and godli∣nesse, is not without, as our Saviour saith, but within us, even in the dressing, ordering and managing of our own souls. Indeed

Our Knowledge without Charity may swell Into Contentious strivings full of pride: But true Religion in that heart doth dwell, Where patience, love, and humble thoughts abide.

what ever or however the Conscience, as I say, may thus be deluded and held in some pleasing satisfaction, finely skinned over for a while with the upper part of Religion; yet in the truth of it, the wound that is so deep, is not so easily cured; this sinfulnesse of the minde here spoken of, having gotten such time and li∣berty with us, is not without great difficulty▪ deep sor∣row, many prayers, and much carefulnesse, took off a∣gain: and therefore till we can by Gods special mercy attain unto this thorow piercing and happie Repen∣tance, there is none so soveraign and helpful a means to prevent the dangerous encrease thereof, as is the con∣stant following of a good employment, ever to be do∣ing in one industrious action or another, according to the quality and manner of our life, even in one honest action or other, though it be but to little advantage:

so that the Rule is very true, Praestat oriosum esse, quam nihil agere; It were far better for us to be in action with that which is to no purpose, so that we do not sin in it, then to sit still and be altogether idle: for alas, we do by woful experience finde, that Idlenesse is rightly na∣med The devils Cushion; being seldome out of one sin or other, whilst we are out of action in some good employment: This Cushion makes the devil so easie a seat, that it is even an invincible work to remove him from our idle souls, or make him sit away: this is his seat, I say, and his shop too; here he freely sits and plyes his utmost skill, to mould our thoughts to the very wickednesse of his hearts desire; here he sits forging and fashioning all the ugliest forms of sin, and foulest monsters of impiety that ever entred into the heart of man: there is no sin so great, so hellish and inhumane, but Idlenesse hath been the means to hatch it into the world.

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

If you demand Aegistus why He did commit adultery; The cause is easie to be seen, Because he hath so idle been.

And as it hatcheth all sins in the soul, so of all other is it the most kindly Nurse of lust and fleshly desire in our melancholy nature. How doth the fancie hereby become polluted and most grosly defiled with all kinde of basenesse and obscenity? what inventions doth it frame for the provocation of lust? how closely doth it make us hug the amorous conceits of our enslaved fancie▪ nay, how do we many times hereby so deeply infect our thoughts with this kinde of vitiousnesse, that like Lime twigs they are ready to catch hold on every

object, converting it to some libidinous and wanton mo∣tion, the which perchance sometimes doth cling so fast unto us, that we can scarcely draw off again our ima∣gination from it.

Again, Idlenesse and Luxury, the excesse of eating and drinking, either in quantity or quality; I say, fulnesse of bread, and abundance of Idlenesse, are constant compani∣ons together: we that are idle, must needs be luxuri∣ous one way or other. And if Saint Paul said that the idle person was not worthy to eat or drink at all; how often and how much do we sin, when as the vanity of our idle souls causeth us to waste so much in superfluity, who are not worthy of sufficiency? O alas, so we live many times, as if we were created for nothing else but to eat and drink. Sure this is not the least, if not the greatest of our sins: for if abstinence be the chiefest help to mortifie the flesh, certainly luxury is the chiefest means to quench all goodnesse of the Spirit: and there∣fore see in the Gospel the devils desire to enter into the Swine; we hear of no other creature that at any time they desired to enter into, but onely, I say, into the gluttonous Swine, that of all other creatures being most uncleanly addicted to its belly; so fit an habitation is the gluttonous and luxurious soul for nothing but devils, but sin and uncleannesse.

But further with the story: our whole man is so ut∣terly disframed and disjoynted with sin, that there is no part but is out of order. When we seriously reflect on our selves and our so great imperfections, we cannot but fetch from within us many a deep sigh, to grieve at this our so great untowardnesse, thinking thus; How much are we now behinde the condition o•• the righteous? how mi∣serably do we mispend our time in being vassals unto Satan, and working our own damnation, who might in this time, so ill wasted, have as well made a good progresse towards heaven, and attained unto much comfort and proficiency in Religion? O ••ow do we want that light of understanding and re∣tention

of Memory in good things which we ought to have? how void are we of devotion to Godwards, that Charitablenesse of affection towards our brethren which we observe in others, that patience and cheerfulnesse in trou∣bles, that manly constancy in ruling the motions of the soul, as grief, fear, hope, and the like?

O we alone, we are in each degree So frail with sin, there's none so frail as we.

For behold, we are so crazed and weakned in all the strength and constancy of our minde through sin, that every passion is able to overturn us: either we are too much in fear of the roaring waves of calamity in this world, or too much in love with the pleasing vanities thereof; either we are too hot with the joy of pro∣sperity, or too cold with the grief of adversity; over∣joy'd with the tickling exaltation of the one, or faint∣heartedly dejected and cast down with the other: but of these two specially ought we to be careful and take good heed; there is always, as we may finde, a more principal danger in the joy of prosperity; for, saith Moses, Deut. 6, When thou hast eaten and art full, then be∣ware lest thou forget the Lord, &c. Narrow vessels are quickly over-fill'd: then, then, I say, in our prosperity do we feel our selves ready to run over the capacity of moderation, apt to grow lawlesse with unlimited pride, and to forget our reverence to that God which hath created us, and always doth so great things for us: and therefore it was that David said It is good for me that I have been in trouble. Happie is the man that is always bal∣lasted with such a constant stedfastnesse of minde, that let the winde blowe which way it will, can carry his affecti∣on with an upright, setled and indifferent moderation; can hold him fast by God in all changes of this life, patiently

hoping in him in adversity, humbly rejoycing in him in prosperity, so to rule himself with Saint Pauls resol∣vednesse of minde, Phil. 4, At all times, and in whatsoe∣ver state he be, as therewith to be content with satiety, and yet not drunken with excesse. See the folly of a sin∣ner, and strange besotted ignorance of our thoughts. Behold,

We fear the face of man, poor sinful man, When of the God of heaven we little scan.

though we have not much care of it, that our faults are all naked in the presence of God, that the Searcher of hearts knoweth the depth of them, and that they lie open plain enough before our Consciences, yet by no means we would that men should know so much of us; no, let self-loving nature alone to be sure to take heed of this, that no body know it but our selves: Oh, we may in no wise bewray our infirmities in any particulars: what vain fig-leaves of poor shifts and excuses do we so we together to cover us with, rather then we will be guilty in the sight of men: we shall chuse rather, many times, to make two sins of one, then discredit our selves by Confession; as thus: Pe••chance when we are re∣proved for our untowardnesse, reprehended for our vi∣ces, or any thing else be spoken which is harsh unto us, presently is our headstrong and self-accusing nature all on fire with spitesul scorn and ill-will against it, either moved with so much distemper as malitiously to revile the party, or else so deeply stung with inward unquiet∣nesse, as unsoberly to depart the place, not abiding to hear it any longer; such is our impatient desire of cre∣dit, our self-justifying honour on our own parts: But on the other side, to hear the dispraises and reproofs of others, to hear their credit broken by the tongue of en∣vie, that methinks is a contentment and recreation to us; or specially when we meet with them who are en∣clin'd

to speak against such parties that are out of our liking, then it is meat and drink to us to say Amen, and joyn with them in the like malevolent and disgraceful speeches. We are, I say, most impatient of reproof, specially if it be laid either sharp and closely unto us, or tedious and over urgent: and truely, though reproof ought humbly to be taken as sent from God justly for our sins, yet many times, through the rigotous applica∣tion thereof, it proves to our evil natures not onely un∣profitable, but hurtful, for we finde that when a wicked passion, on whatsoever occasion, is stirred up in the height of its fury, 'tis hard to be bridled, and dangerous to be dealt withal: Cain's countenance fell with furious indignation, Gen. 4. 5, and lo the sad effect, it is but the eighth Verse that he slew his brother Abel. It is here worth the marking, that sometimes and in some of us the smooth facility of minde can perhaps jest out, or pleasantly put off those self-same sins and disgraces which the rough seriousnesse of others doth take with a great deal of indignation, discontent and shame: the reason thereof partly without doubt is the different dis∣position of nature, and partly also the experienced po∣licy of sin; for sin, when it is used and practised in the soul, like an old Fox, grows more cunning and politick to conceal it self; it can make its guiltinesse seem to be innocence, its covetousnesse seem to be liberality, its pride humility, &c. Herod-like becoming seemingly vertuous, when it is never a whit the lesse, but rather the more truely vitious. But further with the real dis∣covery of our selves. Moreover, as the dogged mo∣rosity of our minde is frequently apparent in our beha∣viour towards our friends, in our dealing with strangers, and other like instances that may be quickly remembred, so also is our grudging unthankfulnesse not a little be∣fore God, and in reference to his Majestie: So that when losses or crosses do befal us, our words are usually these or such like: This is hard fortune, there is no body so

unhappie as we; we I warrant have the worst lot and portio•• of all men; foolishly not at all heeding the frequent miseries of others daily before our eyes, that rod of Gods correction which is imparted to our neighbours peradventure at the same present, and doth it may be in many degrees go beyond ours; if not, at the least∣wise we may remember how far the afflictions of poor Job do outgo our greatest sufferings, and yet he sits em∣bracing the dunghil with these words in his mouth, The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord.

Have we receiv'd all good from him so long, And shall he think that now he doth us wrong?

O the perverse impatiency of our sinful nature, when our minde at first is newly wounded with our misfor∣tunes, and whilst that it is in a fresh and yet-bleeding remembrance with us, what cursed and even nothing else but madly discontented imaginations do there rise up and occur unto our mindes? how full of raging and masterlesse thoughts are we? so that if we go a∣bout never so little to stop the furious current of them, and to turn necessity into a vertue, by applying the con∣sideration of it to some contentful use or good reso∣lution, our wicked passion most times is so unruly with discontent, that by no means can we over-master or bring it into the subjection of any sober thoughts: Which being so, we must needs for the present let it slack, and altogether as much as possible exclude it out of the minde, if that haply afterwards our passion be∣ing allayed and more reasonable, we may consider it with some discretion; so hard a thing as I say is it to wrestle with a disturbed passion in its excesse: and truely, as sin grows on in the soul, so the passions of our minde grow further and further into excesse and immoderate distempers.

Sin when it getteth much strength within, is me∣thinks of all things in the world most like unto the pe∣stilence: the Pestilence, when the height of the dis∣ease is upon a man, makes him, even as phrenzie, distem∣pered with the violence thereof; so as, I say, sin doth here unhinge all the affections of the soul into a furious and madly-behaving humour, when it flies much out of reason into an immoderate excesse. The Pestilence when it worketh a full infection, is a disease very mortal and deadly, so that few escape it: so sin, when a man is much over gone therewith, bringeth the soul into a very sad and dangerous condition; and it is the effect of Gods greatest mercy that we do overcome it. Lastly, the Pestilence, that grand misery of Mankinde, is usually attended upon with many inferiour mischiefs; as the Measles, Small Pox, and the like: so sin, those great exorbitancies of the minde, which are truely the misery of all miseries, and cause of all miseries unto us men, are ever accompanied with smaller inconvenien∣ces and vanities of conversation: And so then, what with greater sins, and lesser vanities, we may now well say with the Preacher, Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.

There is no word, no deed, no, not a thought In us, but's vain and altogether nought.

I say, What are all our thoughts, our words and deeds but vain, even of no weight, substance and soli∣dity? for, know thou, O my soul, that nihil est non va∣num, quod non ad aeternitatem pertinet; that all that is vain, which aims not at eternity. Those thoughts, th••se words, those works, which perish, and do not ac∣company and follow us into heaven, that we may there for ever rejoyce of them; those, all those, I say, are vain and idle, and such whereof

we must be sure, as our Saviour saith, to give an ac∣count: and thus through our so totally depraved con∣dition of sin, all that is within us is become vanity, and lighter then vanity it self; our thoughts think vanity and nothing but vanity: we say to our selves, What profit is there in serving the Lord? do not things fall out and prosper as well with the wicked as the righte∣ous? Doubtlesse, he that dwelleth on high regardeth it not; and there is no difference unto us.

Again, we think foolishly, Hath not God s•• chained the course of things by his Eternal Predestination to such and such periods and events, that the fatal bo••nds and decree thereof we can by means frustrate? Alter it we cannot; how then is it in us to do good or to do evil? 'tis not our fault that we are not saved, we could not sin, bad ••e not appointed it; and we cannot avoid it, because he hath appointed it.

Thus we many times ignorantly judge and con∣ceive that Gods ways are as our ways: but he shall one day convince and reprove us; he shall set our sins before us, making our Consciences truely to con∣fesse, that Thou, O Lord, art good, art holy, righteous and just; but it is we of our selves that have sinned, done wickedly and stubbornly, gone astray from thy Com∣mandments.

Our thoughts think nothing but vanity. Such is the vain singularity of our intentions in any thing which is of moment or considerablenesse, that we contem∣ptuously slight and lightly regard to follow the com∣mon manner and fashion, always aiming at some rare and unusual way, thereby to be advanced into a more general note and eminent reckoning. Such also is the vain disdainfulnesse and height of our minde, as to think ostentimes these and these our inferiours not good enough to have any familiarity or boldnesse with us, to be accepted or taken notice of in our com∣pany, or the like.

Such again is the vain ostentation of our personal behaviour, when we are in better company abroad in publike, or amongst strangers, that we usually cast our thoughts ambitiously behinde us, with a vain care and curiosity of minde, to observe whether our clothes, discourse and deportment are likely to leave behinde us in the opinion of men a worthy estimation; d••si∣ring, in the stout pride of our hearts, so to carry our selves in outward credit towards others, as to be ob∣served in the sight of men; and according to the Poet, Monstrari & dicier hic est. I say, that it might be said of us, that we are such ones, of such note, &c. And such also on the other side is our too sullen retirednesse from convenient company, when Diogenes-like we stubbornly shrink in our selves from an ordinary con∣versation with men, either out of a shamefac't strange∣nesse and inurba••ity of behaviour, or else out of a self will'd roughnesse of minde, that we will not com∣municate our selves unto others. And here

We may most times observe it by the by, That Melancholy gives a secret touch Of surly, close, and stern morosity, Which speaking little, always thinketh much.

Though Melancholy be full within of great thoughts, yet it seldom unmasks it self, but upon humours; and then peradventure when we are in the vein of it, we as vainly fall again into extremes on the other side, lavish∣ly spending our spirits in over much talking and eager∣nesse of discourse, thereby wearying out our selves ma∣ny times in vain; and not onely so, but perhaps work∣ing our own wo withal: For, Locutum esse aliquand•• poe∣••ituit, tacuisse nunqu••: A fool, saith Solomon, Prov. 29, ••ttereth all his minde; but a wise man keep••th it in till after∣wards.

A fool uttereth all his minde; and such is our folly to run out into vanity of words, sometimes in one fashion, sometimes in another; but specially most of all, into vainly hyperbolical speeches, boastingly aggra∣vating the truth, or enviously extenuating it, according as our humour and inclination is bent; whereby our praiso or dispraise of any thing or person is altogether made factious after our fancie and liking, rather then any whit according to right understanding and impartial ve∣rity: for notwithstanding we do still pretend to speak nothing but what is just and equal, following the onely rule of discerning reason and indifferency; yet we can∣not but encline our words to the prejudicate sense of our own liking, making our arguments and proofs ser∣vants rather to affection then reality. As for example: If we vent our passion in ripping up of other mens faults, we plead thus for the doing it, That we know not how to dissemble, That we must needs speak the truth, &c. co∣louring that with the name of veracity, which is no∣thing else but the rancour of ill will; taking our indi∣gnation and sinister desire, to be zeal, a zeal to truth, whenas it is nothing but a breach of Charity: for though we can thus unmercifully censure others; though other mens motes are beams unto us, and we can fully discern their least enormities; yet we do sufficiently wink at and flatter our selves in far worse actions; we can cut large thongs, as it is said, of other mens Lea∣ther; enjoyning great duties, expecting great matters, and laying great burdens upon other mens shoulders, which we touch not our selves with so much as our least finger: I say, the mean while, God he knows, not performing the least part of our own duty: and therefore doth that saying of Saint Paul after check our Consciences; Thou that teachest others, teachest thou not thy self? &c. Behold, the wrath of man, saith Saint James, worketh not the righteousnesse of God. And sure, most times, we sin more against Charity by the wrathful censure

and reproof of other mens sins, even more, I verily believe, then they do in committing those sins which we so reprove, because Love, saith Solomon, Prov. 10. 12, covereth a multitude, a multitude of sins: surely not of our own sins, 'tis not so meant, but of other mens. And Charity, saith Saint Paul, suffereth long, is kinde, is not easily provoked, beareth all things, believeth all things, &c.

If we truely consider it, when we judge this or that mans pride; what is it else that doth it, but a greater pride in our selves? when we condemn other mens malice and envie, it is nothing else peradventure but because our own hearts are fuller of envie themselves; nature it may be thinking thus to adorn her self with others spoils, and to deck up her credit with the good name she takes away from her neighbour. Better, O how much better were it for us, in stead thereof, to turn cri∣ticks to our selves and our own lives, then to be so censoriously busie about others.

Better, I say,

To 'bide at home, and shew our utmost skill In setting right our own corrupted will.

In judging others, that is all that we can get by it, The greater judgement to our selves: but by judging our selves, we may haply escape the judgement of God; For, saith Saint Paul, if we would judge ourselves (that is, truely ransack our own souls for sin) we should not be judg∣ed of the Lord.

And as the ancharitable judging of other's sins doth doubtlesse encrease our own judgement; so when we applaud, rejoyce in, and are well pleased at the falls and sins of others; what do we likewise but encrease our fur∣ther condemnation? This hugging of our souls in the be∣holding of other mens vices, which many times we do, proveth us to have the seed of that wicked one within us,

who delighteth still in having more company unto damnation. Indeed to have many fellows and com∣panions in sinning, may perhaps rock our evil consci∣ence into a securer sleep for the time; but it cannot give u•• the least true rest or satisfaction of minde. That others sin as much as we, is no priviledge at all for our sins: they shall stand upon their own bottoms, and we shall be sure our selves to answer for our selves; one's faults cannot plead for or excuse anothers: eve∣ry one shall have enough to look to himself and his own ways. It is to be mark'd amongst the rest, that the different temper of body and manner of life, as to live in some places with some people, in some Call∣ings, and the like, is a strong means to make sin in many of us to abound into a more grosse and frequent impie∣ty then in other-some: for although nature in all men be corrupted with the seeds of sin, with a readinesse and propension even unto the greatest evils; yet these first beginnings are much more rankly grown from the womb in some men then in other-some, which causeth them to undergo a greater difficulty in subdu∣ing themselves by grace, and to be more violently carried down the stream, when once sin gets the upper hand. As also our manner of life may adde great ad∣vantage unto temptation.

In Sodom for to live a righteous Lot, 'Tis like a Painter that's without a spot. By touching Pitch, alas it is no news To be defil'd, if that we cannot chuse.

He that is conversant where many occasions be offer∣ed, shall hardly put by often inconveniences.

But we proceed with the secret sinful motions of our unhappie life. When there is any thing of heedful

concernment in our thoughts, which we do endeavour to effect, or have resolved upon to have it done; if it chance any whit long to be delayed, and not finisht forthwith according to our hope, the greedy desire and expectation thereof is such a torture presently to our over hastie souls, that in a while out of distrustfulnesse we either utterly despair of it, or through impatiency of minde, we strive (if it be possible) to bring it to passe against might, or otherwise one way or other, are ready to procure some indirect means whereby our ea∣ger intention may be fulfilld; headlesly running on many times thus to multiply our sins without any rea∣son, not considering at all, that if we had not tor∣mented our selves with such over eagernesse of expe∣ctation, and sinn'd against God with this unlawful hasti∣nesse of minde and despairing thoughts, doubtlesse our businesse would have never the worse, but rather the better have took its effect in due time: and this is that impatient hastinesse of minde and distrustful fear that maketh many of us to curse and swear so much in the passion of discontent; to go to Witches for recovering again the goods that we lose; or so soon as we be sick to post to the Physitian as our onely hope; and the like. It was this impatient ha∣stinesse of minde that made Saul offend, 1 Sam. 13. 8: whenas both he, and our selves, did we but use the counsel of David, Psal. 27. 9, to tarry the Lords lea∣sure, and be strong; I say, his leasure with patience, and be strong in faith, we might verily prevent many a sin, nay, perchance most sins; for were it not this im∣patient hastinesse of ours, what sin almost is there could prevail against us, had we but that true patience and stayednesse of minde soberly to wait and weary out the temptation, the devil might go away from us as he came.

The storm most fiercely for the time doth rage: Stay but a little, and it will asswage.

It is this too importunate hastinesse that causeth discon∣tented murmur••ngs against God, making us, when things go not to our mindes, and that we prosper not according to our account and expectation, even making us, I say, half angry with the Almighty, as though he were a debter to fulfil our desires. It is this hastinesse which draweth us many times into the most dangerous im∣pieties.

Sin in time brings the soul into such a senslesse dulnesse and stupidity, that as if we had made a Covenant with d••ath and a League with hell, we are little moved with any ter∣rour thereof, and we quietly yeeld up our selves, as if there were an inevitable necessity for us to be thus wie∣ked and ungodly: we know not what to say or to do in the case; we are so much plunged in this mire and clay, where there is no ground, no hope of coming out, that it is beyond all that we can think and endeavour, to do our selves any good; and therefore we cannot conceive sin and this inward corruption of nature to be any other∣wise in us then as a corruption in the body, which when once it hath gotten a long continued vent and running issue in the leg, there is no stopping thereof without pre∣sent death to the party, unlesse there be an issue made for it in another place. And so we being thus filled, as Saint Paul speaketh of the Heathen, Rom. 1, with nothing but spiritual corruption in the soul▪ unrighteousnesse, fornica∣tion, wickednesse, covetousnesse, maticiousnesse, &c. we cannot imagine how the vent thereof can be stopt, but that it must needs have passage one way or other; and indeed so for the most part, when it is stopt of its ordinary course, it findeth out a secret vent elsewhere. And truely

after this manner sometimes we seem to be reclaimed and reformed of our accustomed vices, whenas in very deed we do but turn out of one sin into another: for this is the devils policy, now and then to imitate Re∣pentance, by altering and changing up and down our sins, to the end they might not grow tedious unto us, to make us loath and abho•• them utterly, or perchance to give our consciences some satisfaction with the shew of Repentance, that we may the more securely conti∣nue in sin. For the devil hath many shifts to invent, wherewith to give us content and delight. He will provide all variety and pleasure that is possible, to in∣dulge our appetite; as, being weary of this sin, that we may go to another; our affections being tired with am∣bition, we might recreate our selves with lust and luxu∣rious idlenesse; our souls being stopt of their course in malice and covetousnesse, we might take as it were a turn another while in Epicurism and indulging vanities: sometimes perhaps a variety in the manner of our sins for novelties sake, may give us a little change of satis∣faction; as sometimes it may be plain dealing gives the minde best liking in our sins; sometimes equivocating and deluding excuses; sometimes the matter is best of all to be qualified with a crafty involving of others help∣ing in the act: sometimes again, a sole and absolute secresie of the whole businesse, is more grateful to our conscience. Every way, and however it be effected, we feel our selves in sin just as in the condition of sick men: he that is much sick, is not in so much ease as to lie always on one side, though his bed be never so soft: so sin, like the sick mans bed, hath not so much pleasure in it as to give us any long content: he turns from side to side to finde rest, and findes none so long as he is sick: so we unhappie sinners wallow to and fro in our sinnes without rest: we are unstable in all our ways.

There's no delight, no rest is to be found, Whilst sin in us so strongly doth abound.

I say, we can finde no pleasure, no full, satisfactory, o•• long content in pleasure, as long as we thus turn out of sin into sin, out of one bad course into another, unlesse that we quite turn out of sin unto God. But wo is us, Hic labor, hoc opus est, here lies all the difficul∣ty, this is the main matter of all; the flattering sub∣tilty thereof hath, as I said, for long ago, as Dalilah be∣guiled Samson, so wholly robb'd and beguil'd our soul▪ of all their strength and courage to true R••pentance, that we were much too weak to break off from us those fettering bonds and manacles of unrighteousnesse which do so strongly tie us unto unhappinesse; a mi∣sery certainly full of all miseries, to be so far involv'd therein that we can see no probability to get out: and yet lo, this is not the utmost, it doth not rest here; we must yet ••urther entertain a greater unhappinesse; for now behold a far more grievous and worse thing for the present hereby happeneth unto us, Gods judge∣ment, the usual consequence of continuance in fin, prepares after so long forbearance to lay siege unto our consciences; and the messenger of Satan, like a trumpe••er is sent in to summon us beforehand: for behold, hi∣deous and dismaying thoughts begin to slip into our minde, exceedingly to terrifie and strike thorow our un∣happie souls, the strangenesse of which many times at the first coming of it, doth so gastly affright and startle us, that our hearts are ready to faint and swoon with the terrour thereof: and this, this, I say, for the pre∣sent out of our unadvis••dnesse and ignorance of the right understanding hereof, commonly becomes a greater snare to us to keep us off from Repentance,

then all our former sins, and distempers besides; for when perchance we endeavour to settle our thoughts upon Humiliation, and are ready to take upon us the examination of our wicked and sinful life, as lifting up our thoughts into this Meditation: Oh how the time passeth away! the daily-consuming torch of our life burneth out apace, and shall we continue still in this desolate and deplored condition without due Repentance and reconciliation with God? how far are are we from that glorious comfort and most hap∣pie state we use to enjoy in the time of grace? &c. Wher, I say,

When that with serious sighs we in this sort Do our own selves into our selves retort.

preparing our selves for Repentance, and striving to humble our souls before God, then forthwith do these hideous and dismaying thoughts, or the remembrance of them, so utterly discourage and dishearten us, that we are fain to leave off again so soon as we have be∣gun: For whenas our thoughts should be fill'd with humility and dejection for our sins, then are they rea∣dy to swarm with nothing but vile and monstrous ima∣ginations. Better therefore do we judge it, for the most part, whilst that we are newly acquainted here∣with, to let all alone, then by that means, as we suppose, to procure Gods greater wrath and indignation upon us. Besides, thus we are ready to conjecture with our selves; What hope or likelihood is there for us to obtain the favour of that God, from whom we are so dangerously separated, and whom again we are with such impiety of minde ready to dishonour? And so are we beaten off from our poor and weak endeavours.

Not daring to approach his glorious Name With thoughts that speak nothing but fear and shame.

Well, these hideous glances do perchance ever and anon slip into the imagination, and are very terrible and tedious unto us. But many times it falls out for a while, until we either better understand our selves herein, or that God shew forth his power more strongly in us: I say it falls out many times, that the earnest employment of our minde in the fears, cares and desires of other things, doth not suffer us so seriously to tend for them, or else doth put them out of remembrance again; notwithstan∣ding ever and anon they do come into our heads to disturb and terrifie us most wonderfully. But specially 'tis to be noted, that if at any time we go about to read, or set our selves diligently upon the work of Repen∣tance, then sure they are abundantly present with us: and because they are so terrible that we cannot abide them, we must therefore needs leave off whatsoever we have took in hand; and this we may conceive to be a special policie of the devil, to have them chiefly propo∣sed to our phancie at such times, to the end, if it could be so, there might be no time for us to repent in: For now methinks at length, through a due self-consideration, and these manifold checking troubles and inconveniences, which so disturb us, that we cannot tell which way to turn for them; doubtlesse, I say, we have great longing to be reconciled unto God, and we would very fain repent, putting our strength really to it, did not now these Scar crowes stand in the way to affright us: and now in this (though not other∣wise) we can truely repent that we did not repent heretofore, that we had not drawn neer unto the Lord whilst he might be found, since that in those great wa∣ter-floods,

this day of trouble and temptation, we cannot come nigh unto him: for most deservedly we that have continued so long in our sins for our own pleasure, to content our selves, must yet con∣tinue a while longer to content Gods justice. As yet then for all this, though the Ax be as it were laid to the root of the tree, Gods judgement and venge∣ance to our evil Consciences, yet we cannot leave off the deceitfulnesse of our souls, our oppressing po∣licie, the vanity of our minde, the excusing our sins, the swelling and self-conceited folly of our hearts, and the like.

It is to be observed, that according to the method in this Book before premised, most of us men have some one part or space of our life (be it four or five yeers, or whatsoever) wherein sin hath more full power over us, and perhaps doth thus prevail in us with an high hand and setled course, and this time above all the rest is the time of sin, as being so properly disposed for it, that during the continuance thereof, we can never attain unto true Repentance: for though that we may sometimes superficially fallow up our souls with the Sollow of Humiliation, yet do we not so thorowly plow them up as to fit them for the due receiving of that good seed which is able to fructifie into newnesse of life. Sure this is not an easie thing:

A perfect sinner doth not change his hue, So quickly turning his old life to new.

Though we may peradventure many times outwardly scan over the duty of Repentance, yet do we not during this time so perfectly repent, as thereby to get a full Release from the▪ guilt of sin, or such a comfortable

and a discharging acquittance to our Consciences, as we ought to have, and which maketh us chearful and free powerfully to resolve and set on towards amendment of life.

Well, to the matter. I say, What by one means or other, we are yet still scared off from the main hope and help of our souls, the comfort of Reconciliation; so great is our sinful folly and unability unto good. But this, all this, is but for a taste of inward trouble: See what follows: the hand of the Almighty doth not leave us so; if a man will not turn, saith David, Psal 7, God will whet his sword: he hath bent his bowe, and made it ready: hitherto there is no turning with us, nothing is able to turn us unto a due serious repenting, or sufficiently to rouze us up out of the unhappie Lethar∣gie of sin; and therefore sure God is now whetting his sword and bending his bowe against us As Lazr•••• in his grave, so we have been in our trespasses and sins so long dead, even stark dead unto all goodnesse, that we had need be call'd unto elatâ voce, as it is in the Eleventh of Saint John, with a loud voice, if God mean that we shall effectually hear him.

Dangerous diseases deserve desperate cures. If no∣thing else can thorowly awake us, the Judgement of a troubled minde and tormented Conscience must do it. But when once it comes to passe that the Almighty sheweth forth his wonders in the deep, his mighty strength after this manner in the deep thoughts of mans heart; O what a sharp fit and tedious bout must we undergo? for, saith Solomon, The spirit of ma•• may sustain his infirmity: but a wounded spirit who can bear?

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

The misery that that poor soul is in, Whom heav'n doth strike with terrour for his sin.

Any outward crosse or trouble is tolerable, and may be sustained: but the inner trouble of a distracted minde and wounded Conscience, who can bear?

You may note, that though the minde and Conscience be toucht with many secret terrours and perplexed difficulties, in the course and passage of this life, according to that of David concerning himself, Even from my youth up, thy terrours have I suffered with a troubled minde.

I say, There be in the soul of man many tor∣menting thoughts; as also sins of ours, and say∣ings of Scripture often too hard for us well to di∣gest: but this ensuing Passage of a distracted minde and troubled Conscience is seldom paral∣lel'd.

For lo, I shall herein shew you a Mystery, even welnigh the very height and utmost pitch of Ter∣rour and sad Distraction that the melancholy minde can undergo without falling quite into Fury and Madnesse, which doth fitly follow this more then ordinary ill course of life here presupposed, and so long a sleep in presumption.

For this is the right Method in the state of the soul: before such great trouble of minde, there u∣sually precedes a deep sleep in Presumption, because the minde and Conscience can never be very much inwardly troubled, (it may suffer some small distresse)

I say, never be much troubled, as long as fear, the watch∣man of the soul, keeps his due centry. And therefore this is the true wisedom of a careful Christian, diligently to keep this watch about him, lest he be overtaken, be∣sotted and engaged in sin, and so then the day of the Lord come upon him like a thief in the night: I say, the day of the Lord, the day of his Judgement, a day of gloominesse and thick darknesse; a day of trouble and distraction of minde, even such a day (as is exprest in the next Part) where∣in the Lord thundreth from heaven with his mighty power against the soul of man,