The spiritual chymist, or, Six decads of divine meditations on several subjects by William Spurstow ...

The Spiritual Chymist, OR Divine Meditations on severall Subjects.

Meditation I. Ʋpon a mote in the Eye.

OF what a strange temper is the Eye, which a smal mote can so extreamly trouble, and a wide world cannot satisfie? and what a strange vanity is the world, a single dust of which is more powerfull to afflict and torment, then an entire confluence of all its pleasures can be to give ease, or to delight? For were the globe of the whole earth turned into a delicious Paradise, that the eye might behold nothing but a perpetual spring of beauty, and that every sense might be conti∣nually feasted with the choicest objects that such a Gar∣den could produce; yet alass a corn of its sand, an atome of its dust put or lodged accidentally in the eye, would create such violent shootings, such keen prickings and burnings, as would foon force a man to send forth com∣plaints

that his anguish is far above his pleasure, and that he had much rather forgoe the one, then undergoe constantly the other. Oh! what a weak and empty bubble is all worldly happiness, which breaks and va∣nisheth into nothing, by the power of a small dust? and what a matchless difference is there between heavenly and earthly comforts, when a drop of the one can sweeten a briny sea of sorrow, and a world of the other cannot asswage the anguish which ariseth from a single mo••e? Lord therefore let not me be among the num∣ber of those that receive their good things in this life, I ask only a pittance for my passage, but not an abundance for my portion in them; yea though thou shouldst give me no Kid to make merry with, yet will I not murmur at thy bounty to Prodigals, if thou wilt say Son, all that is laid up is thine, though thou hast little or nothing of what is laid out; but I will pray, Turn Lord mine eyes from beholding, and my heart from affecting earthly vanities, and fix all my desires upon heaven, that I may look and long for it, in which there is nothing that can offend; but every thing that will delight and satisfie to Eternity.

Meditation II. Ʋpon a piece of Battered Plate.

IT is methinks a meet Emblem of a suffering Saint, who by afflicting strokes may lose somewhat of his accidental beauty; but nothing of his real worth. In the Plate the fashion is only marred; but the substance is neither diminished or embased. If you bring it to

the Scale, it weighs as much as it did; if you try by the Touchstone, it is as good Silver as it was. And is it not thu•• with a S••in•• when bruised and broken with many sore pressures? His lustre and repute with men m••y be p••eu••iced and e••lipsed by them, but not his person or his w••rth with God; if he be weighed in his unerring Ballance, he will not be found the lighte••; if ex••mined by ••his Test, he will no•• be esteemed the less precious. It is no•• the Cross that makes vil•••• but Sin; not the passive evils which we suffer, but the active evils which we do. The one m••y render us unamiable to men, but the other makes us unholy before God; The one rase the Casket, and the other makes a flow in the Jewel. H••ppy and wise therefore is that man who maketh Moses his choice to be his pattern in chusing Affliction rather th••n Sin; esteeming it better to be an oppressed Hebrew that builds the Houses and Pallaces of Brick, than an uncircumcised Egyptian to dwell in them, for when he is tried he shall receive the Crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them that love him.

Meditation III. Ʋpon the Galaxia or milky-way.

THe milkie way, according to Aristotle, is a shine or Brightness caused by the joynt raies of a multitude of imperceptible Stars, and not a Meteor; But it is not my purpose so much to find out, or determine what it is, as to meditate a little upon the place where i•• is, The Milkie way is in Heaven, the true Canaan and

Land of Promise, in which Rivers of pleasure and sweetness do everlastingly overflow; and while we are absent from it, we are like Israel in the Desart, apt to complain of dayly wants, and to be discouraged with various fears. How greatly therefore is it becoming us who profess to seek such a Country to long earnestly after it in our desires, and to travel towards it in pati∣ence; not fearing the difficulty of the way, but ani∣mating our selves with the perfection of the end, in which rest and glory, which are here divided, shall both mee••, and for ever dwell together? If Mare rubrum, the Red Sea of Affliction, be the passage; Via lactea, the milkie way of life, and blisse will be the end. And is it nor better to wade through a Sea of bloud to a Throne of glory, than to glide along the smooth stream of pleasure unto an Abysse of endless misery? A good end gives an amiableness to the means, though never so unpleasing; The bitter Potion which brings health is gladly taken down by the Patient: But Poyson in a golden Cup, when made as pleasing as Art and Skill can temper it, can never be welcome to any who un∣derstand the sweetness of life, or dread the terrour of death. The way is good (saith Chrysostome) if i•• be to a Feast, though through a blind Lane; if to an Execution not good, though through the fairest Street of the City; himself was bidden to a Marriage Dinner, and was to go through divers Lanes and Allies, crossing the high street he met with one led thorow it to be Ex∣ecuted, he told his Auditors, Non qua, sed quo, not the way, but the term whither it led, was to be thought upon. Lord then let not me be anxious what the path is that I tread, whether it be plain or thorny, pleasant or difficult, bloudy or milky, so it lead to thee, who art Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending

of blessedness, but to walk chearfully in it till I come to thee my everlasting rest.

Meditation IV. Vpon a Picture and a Statue.

IN what a differing manner is the Image and repre∣sentation of the same Person brought into these two pieces of Art? In the one it is effected by the soft and silent touches of the Penfill, which happily convey likeness and beauty together: In the other it is formed by the rough and loud stroakes of the hammer, and by the deep cuttings and Sculptures of Instruments of Steel: In as strange and far differing way is the hea∣venly Image of God formed in the souls of new Con∣verts, when first made partakers of the Divine Nature. In some God Paints (as I may so speak) his own Likeness by a still and calm delineation of it upon the Table of their hearts: In others he Carves it by affli∣cting them with a great measure of terrours, and wounding their souls with a thorough sense both of the guilt and defilement of Sin. But in this diversity of working, God is no way necessitated, or limited by the disposition and temper of the matter, as other Agents are; but is freely guided by the Counsel of his own will, which is the sole rule and measure of all his Actions towards the Creature, as his Word is of theirs towards him. Lord therefore do with me what thou pleasest; Let me be but thine, and I will not prescribe thy Wisdom the way to make me thine; bruise, breake, wound, yea, Kill, Lord, so that I may be made alive

again by thy power, and bear thy holy Image, accord∣ing to which I was first made, and to which by thy grace and might only I c••n be restored.

Meditation V. Vpon a Graff.

IT was an ancient Saying of the R••bbins, Lumen soe∣pernum nunquam descendit sine indumento, that Divine Light doth never descend without some Cloathing: While we are vailed with Mortality Truth must vail it self too, that it may the better sute our capacity, for in this our imperfect Estate, its native Lustre is too ex∣cessive for our weak eyes, and its spiritual being too re∣fined for our narrow understandings, which ••o imbibe and take in their objects by the mediation of the sences with which they have contracted an entire league and amity. Observable therefore it is, that in Scripture the highest and most divine Mysteries of the Gospel are imbodied in the terrene Expressions of Me••aphors, Similitudes, Allegories, and so represented to our view. Thus the efficacy and secresie of the New Birth is set forth by the winds blowing when and where it listeth; The Resurrection of the body by Corn sown, which is not quickned except it dye: The Glory of Heaven by a Marriage Feast: And among others, our Mystical Union with Christ by the Insition of a Graff into a for∣rain stock, which aptly shews forth the entire de••en∣dance we have upon Christ, without whom we can do nothing, and how also we that are at a distance from him, are truly made one with him. But yet methinks

it is matter both of delight and wonderment, to see how much the spiritual implantation out-goes the natural. In the natural, sweet Graffs are advised to be set in sowre Stocks; for though it be proper to the Stock to be vehiculum alimenti, the conveyance of the nourish∣ment, yet virtus temperamenti, the quality of the Juyce comes from the Graff, and not from the Stock. But in the spiritual it is quite otherwise, the Graff is vile and worthless, but the Root to which it is united is precious. The Scion of a Crab is put into a tree of life, the wild Olive, into the true Olive, and is thereby so changed as that it can no more degenerate into what it was, but shall for ever abide what the Almigh∣ty power of grace hath made it to be, a branch of righteousness bringing forth the fruits of new obedience to the glory of him who hath made this bles∣sed Change.

Meditation VI. Vpon a Glass witbout a foot.

THat which chiefly renders this Glass of little or no esteem is not the Brittleness of it, which is com∣mon to every Glass, but an unaptness for use and ser∣vice through a particular defect, in regard it hath only a capacity to receive what is put into it, and no ability to retain it unless some hand, or other forrain aide supply the place of a natural foot. In the hand it is useful to convey drink to the thirsty, or a Cordial to the Patient; but as soon as it is out of the hand through meer weakness it falls and spills the liquor, if

not ruine it self. O how lively doth this imperfect Glass resemble the best Condition of Believers on this side he••ven, who in themselves are not only brit••le, and so apt to be irrecoverably broken; but are also to∣tally unable to retain either grace or comfort with which Christ is pleased to fill them, unless he bear and hold them alwaies in his hand? And O how great is the care and love of Christ, to preserve such Frail Crea∣tures to life, and to honour such weak Instruments in his constant service? Who can think upon this good∣ness of Christ, and not be transported with Raptures and Ecstasies in the deep admiration of it? Who can believe that sure Salvation that is in him, out of whose hand no man can pluck us, and not passionately desire it? Is it not better with us, than it was with us in Adam, who had Feet to stand upright, but no Hand which might preserve him from falling? Freewill hath made many Servants, but hath it ever made one Son? Are not all that are saved Children of grace? Let others then magnifie Natures Power, and like sick men talk confidently of walking, when upon trial they cannot stand: I shall alwaies desire to have a due sense of my own emptiness and weakness, and to make this my dayly prayer, that Christ would alwaies fill me with his grace, hold me by his hand, and use me ever in his service.

Meditation VII. Ʋpon the sight of a Lilly and a Violet.

THese two Flowers brought to my Mind a saying of Hierom to this effect, That it is better, and more honourable to be a Lilly then a Violet: Which, when stripped of its Metaphorical Clothing comes to thus much, That, to be alwayes pure is more commenda∣ble, then to bear the blush of a Sin: Spotless Innocen∣cy doth far exceed the greatest Penitency. A Truth questionless it is beyond Controversie, and no way needing the aid of the School to determine, that In∣nocens est praestantior poenitente; The Innocent is more worthy then any Penitent. Innocency being the one∣ly Robe of Glory, with which Man was covered when first Created; and of which, had he not divested him∣self, he had never experienced Shame, or Sorrow; they both being Passions that had their entrance into the World with Sin, and shall in the same Moment with it Die and Expire. But yet next to this Virgin Purity from Sin, The most desirable thing is true and unfeigned Penitency for Sin; Which, though it cannot restore a Man to his Primitive State; Time Lost, and Innocen∣cy, being two irrecoverable things; yet it will (through Gods Ordination) abundantly capacitate him for Mer∣cy and Pardon. When Ephraim Smote upon the Thigh, and was ashamed, because he bare the reproach of his Youth, how earnestly did God remember him: Is Ephraim my dear Son? When the Prodigall returns a Penitent, how affectionately doth his Father embrace him, and falling upon his Neck kiss him? how doth

he cut off, and prevent a part of his Confession, which he was purposed with himself to have made, by his speedy calling for the Ring, the Robe, the Shooes, to a∣dorn him, and the fatted Calf to Feast him? O blessed Lord! how willingly would I therefore (who have nothing of the unspotted purity of the Lilly) partake plentifully of the Tincture of the Violet? how fain would I, who have had a Forehead to commit Sin be∣fore thee, have a Face to blush for Sin done against thee? my Sins are as the sand of the Sea for number, O that my Teares were as the Water of the Sea for abund••nce. But who, Lord, can make me of a Proud and unhal∣lowed Sinner, a real and Broken Convert but thy self? That Grace, by which mine whole Man must be moulded to a Penitential Frame, is altogether thine: heart, hand, eyes, tongue, cannot in the least move without thee: they are lifeless Members till thou quicken them; yea Rebellious till thou subdue them: do thou therefore by a powerful Energy fit every part for its proper Duty; let my hand smite the Breast, as the fountain and root from whence all mine Iniquities do spring; let my tongue confess them, mine eye mourn for them, my face blush, and my heart bleed for them: then shall I unfeignedly say, and acknowledge, My ruin is from my self, but in thee is my help O Lord.

Meditation VIII. Ʋpon a Crum going the wrong way.

VVHat more mean and contemptible thing can there be then a single Crum, either in regard of its doing the least hur••, or effecting the least good; and yet, like the Tongue, which S••. James saith, is a lit∣tle Member, ex••ollit sese, it bo••steth great Matters: in the Mouth (it is true) it hath scarce substance enough to be felt; but, in the Throat, it is such as can hardly be endured. If it descend into the S••omach, it can contri••ute nothing to the support of Life; but, if it miss the due passage to it, how often doth it threaten Death? and sometimes also effect it: O, how frail and mutable is the Life of Man; which is not only Jeopar••ed by I••struments of War and Slaughter, which are made to destroy, but by an Hair, a Raisin-Stone, a Feather, a Crum, and a thousand such inconsiderable things, which have a power to extinguish Life, but none to preserve it? How necessary then is it to get Grace into the Heart, when the Life that we have hangs thus continually in suspence before us? and, how circum∣spect should we be of small sins, which create as great dangers to the Soul, as the other things can to the Bo∣dy? They that live in the Pale of the Church perish more by silent and Whispering Sins, then by Crying and Loud Sins, in which, though there be less Infamie, there is ofttimes the grea••er danger, in regard they are most e••sily f••llen into, and most hardly repented of; like knots in fine Silk, which are sooner made then in a

Cord or Cable, but with far more difficulty are un∣loosed again. Let us therefore (who often say that' a M••n may live of a little) think also of how much less a Man may Die, and miscarry, not in his Body only but in his Soul also.

Meditation IX. Ʋpon two Lights in a Room.

WHat an Amicable, as well as Amiable thing is Light? for, these two Tapers which enlighten the same Room, do not shine with a Divided, or with a Confounded, but with an Ʋnited Light, as the Opticks do clearly demonstrate by the distinct shadowes which they cast: and yet the Eye which is benefitted by both of them, to a more full and perfect discerning of its objects, cannot difference the raies and strict∣ures that flow from them, or assigne, which is the Light that comes from the one, or from the other. Such I have sometimes thought is the Harmony be∣tween the Natural Light of Gifts, and the Supernatu∣ral of Grace, meeting in the same Person; though they be both differing in the Original, yet in the Subject, in which they are seated, they shine not with a Divided, or a Confounded, but with an United Light: and, in their Efflux and Emanation so conspire, as that they greatly better him in whom they are conjoyned, and cast a mutual lustre also upon each other: One being as the Gold which adornes the Temple, and the other as the Temple which sanctifies the Gold. Let no Man therefore despise the Light of Gifts, as needless to the

Perfection of a Christian; nor yet so magnifie it as to be injurious to the Light of Grace, no more then he would put out one of his Eyes as useless, because when he winks with the one, he can see as well with the other: there may be a reason sometimes to shut one Eye, but there can be none at any time for to extin∣guish it.

Meditation X. Ʋpon Building after Fires.

IT is the saying of Florus the Historian concerning that fatal Fire of Corinth, in which all its Edifices were consumed into Ashes, and its Statues of Brass, Silver and Gold melted into one common Masse: Aeris notam pretiosiorem fecit ipsa opule••tissimae urbis In∣juria; That the Vastation of that wealthy City was an occasion to make the Mettal of it to be highly esteem∣ed in after Ages. The like may be said concerning ma∣ny Buildings, that the Flames which have turned them into desolate ruines, have occasioned a following beau∣ty and stateliness in the second Fabricks, far above what the first ever had. How oft have we seen by such accidents the dimensions of Buildings inlarged, the Formes and Models of them much bettered, the whole with much more Art and Cost Enriched, so as to fill the beholders with delight and wonder? Can man thus improve disadvantages, and make Burnings and indigested heapes to serve as a Foile to his Art and Skill? can he effect a kind of Resurrection, and New-Birth to what was once destroyed? what then can God

do, whose power is perfected in we••kness, and like the Sun shines brightest when invironed with the blackest Clouds of difficulties? Surely he can, yea, and un∣doubtedly will give a being to the Bodies of his M••r∣tyrs, which the Fire hath consumed into Ashes, and the Wind hath scattered into distances. He will awake his Saints, who have made (for Age) their Beds in the Grave, and have filled their Mouthes with the Gravel and Slime of the Pit: He will call for his redeemed ones f••om out of the deep Se••, and from the Mawes of Fishes that have devoured them, and give to every one of them, not only the same Specifical, but the same Nu∣merical Body, changed in its Properties, but not in its Essence, Chrified with Angelical Perfections, but no•• Tr••nsubstantiated from a Corporeal to a Spiritual sub∣stance: Is not all this done already in Christ? our Na∣ture in his Body is Spiritualized, to tell us, that for pos∣sibility it may be, and for certainty it shall be so in us. He is our Brother, therefore we may be like him; and he is our Head, therefore we must be like him in a Con∣formity to his Glorious Body. Why therefore should I fear the greatest Enemies of Life, the Fire, the Grave, or the Sea? Is there any thing too hard for God? is not his Power and his Promise ingaged to do that for me which he hath done for my Saviour? hath he not said that those that sleep in Jesus he will bring with him? Lord help me to make it my onely care to have my Life Holy, that my Resurrection may be hap∣py; to live to Christ, that I may live with Christ: and from a Netherlander in the dust below, may be made a Citizen of the New Jerusalem which is above, and rejoyce in the joy of thy People, and glory with thine Inheritance.

Meditation XI. Ʋpon the Torrid Zone.

VVHen I think, or read what strange Descripti∣ons the Ancients have made of the Middle, or Burning Zone, which, in regard of its excessive Ar∣dours, they judged altogether inhabitable: and how much experience hath evinced their ignorance, in as∣serting the healthful, temperate, and pleasant Dwel∣lings that are to be found there. I cannot but Parallel them with the Misreports that Carnal Men, through blindness of Mind, or Pravity of Heart have taken up, and spread abroad of the wayes of Religion and Ho∣liness, rendering them to the World less tolerable then the Scorchings of the most Torrid Zone, and more dreadful then a Howling Desart. Such which require Austerity, and admit no Latitude; such which by con∣tinual Conflicts make Watery Cheekes, and bleeding Hearts, and what not; which may serve as a Flaming Sword to deter any from entering upon the Confines of an Holy Life. But, is it not matter of Wonder, that Experience, which puts an end to all Contradictions that can rise up against it, and stops the Mouthes of Gainsayers, should not silence those unjust Calumnies that have been long cast upon Religion by such Men who speak evil of those things which they know not? Can there be any thing more unreasonably charged up∣on it then that which is contrary to the experience of Believers? Honey may as well cease to be Sweet, be∣cause the Sick Man saith it is Bitter, as the Pathes of Holiness to be Pleasant, because Carnal Men affirm

them to be irksome and difficult: and the Sun may be as well accused of Darkness, because Dim and Pur∣blind Eyes can see little or nothing of the light of it. Let them be asked who have Sequestered themselves from the Vanities of the World that they might en∣joy God and themselves the better, whether they have wanted that satisfaction which they expected? or have missed what they have left? or have cause to complain of what they endure? And they will tell such Questio∣nists that they have not left their Delights, but ex∣changed them; that Religion is Joyful, though not Dis∣solute; that it hath its Songs, though not its Frolicks; that a good Conscience can Feast it alwayes, though it cannot Revell it; that Gods Service is Free, though not Lawless; that they can do what is Decent, Expedient, or Lawfull, though not what is Sinfull. How vain then are the Cavils, with which Worldlings, like malicious Elimasses pervert the strait wayes of God? And, how causeless are the Scornes which they poure forth upon those that walk in them? will they not at length (like the Drivel of those that spit against the Wind) return upon their own Faces? or like Arrowes shot up against the Sun, fall upon those that undertake such vain at∣tempts? Lord, though many will not believe what others have seen and testifie, yet let not me ever disa∣vow, what thou hast been pleased to let me see and know: But, let me alwayes confidently say with Da∣vid, I have seen an end of all Perfection, but thy Com∣mandements are exceeding broad.

Meditation XII. Upon strength and length in Prayer.

VVHen Cicero was asked which of Demosthenes his Orations he thought best, he wittily re∣plyed, the longest. But, if the question should be, which of Prayers are the best, the answer then must not be, the longest, but the strongest: not the Prayer that exceeds in quantity, but that which excells in qualli∣ty. In Morall actions the Manner of working is a Swaying Circumstance; a Man may sin in doing good, but not in doing well: how few then are there which manage this duty of holy Prayer aright? Some mistake the Language of Prayer, and think it consists of no∣thing else then the cloathing of their meaning in apt expressions, with a tuneable delivery of it: Others pre∣sume, that if necessity have put an edge upon their Re∣quests, and stirred up some passions of Self-love, that they cannot fail of acceptance. Others again put much in the length of their Prayers, measuring them by the time which is spent, rather then by the intention which is exercised in them. But alass, how wide are all such apprehensions from the truth? and how fruitless will such duties be to those that are no otherwise busied in them? The Prayer, which is as delightful Musick in Gods Eares, is not that which hath the quaint Note of the Nightingale, but that which hath the mournful Tones of the Dove. Broken sighs and groans are the best Eio∣quence with God, and become Prayer; as unexpected stops and rests (made by Musicians) do grace the Musick with a kind of Harmonical Aposiopesis, or Elipsis; it is not the Prayer that Indigency and natural desires do

sharpen, but which the Spirit doth enliven that is prevalent with God. The one is as the cry of the young Ravens, and the other is as the voice of Children that are taught to cry Abba, Father. It is not the many words of a proud Pharisee that obtain the blessing, but the pit by and short Confession of a penitent Publican, who is sent away justified. Ah Father! may some∣times be more effectual with God, who searcheth the hearts, and knoweth the mind of the Spirit, than a prayer that is stretched forth like an Evening shadow to a wonderful length. The one, though it be short, may, like a small figure in a Number, stand for much: and the other, though great, like a volume of Cyphers, may signifie nothing. Let therefore such who are frequent in the duty of prayer, especially young Converts, who are apt to think above what is meet of their own en∣largements, endeavour to turn their length into strength, and to remember that there is a wide difference be∣tween the gift and grace of prayer, and that it is one thing to have Commerce with God in duties, and ano∣ther to have Communion with him; The one is such which strangers may have in their mutual traffick, but the other is proper to friends, who are knit together in love.

Meditation XIII. Vpon the Morning Dew.

THe Meditation of this Subject is no less facile than delightful, like Jacobs Venison, it is soon come by, because God hath brought it to my hand,

having often in his Word resembled the Dew, (which makes the earth fruitful,) to his Grace, that makes the hearts of men, naturally barren, to bring forth fruits of righteousness; so that it is no difficult task for to draw an useful parallel between the one and the other in sundry respects.

The Dew is of an heavenly original, the nativity thereof is from the womb of the Morning, it ••arrieth not for man, nor waiteth for the Sons of men. And is it not thus in the grace of Conversion? Is not that wholly from above, without any Preparations, Con∣gruities, Concurrencies, that do or can arise from the flesh? We are made active by grace, but we are not at all Agents in fitting our selves for Grace. As no man can be antecedently active to his first birth; so neither can he be to his second birth: Of Gods own Will we are begotten by the Word of Truth.

The Dew also in its descent and fall is silent and imperceptible, it flies every sense of which it may seem to be a proper object. It is so subtle, as that the sharpest eye cannot see it; so silent, as that the quickest ear cannot hear it; and so thin, as that the naked hand cannot feel it. When it is come it is visible, but how it comes who can tell? After such a secret manner oft times are the illapses of the Spirit, and the opera∣tions of his grace upon the heart; his Teachings, his Tractions, his Callings are all efficacious to draw, to perswade, yet the way is hidden, and the soul, ere ever it is aware, is made like the Chariots of Aminadab.

The Dew again, as Naturalists observe, is most abounding in calm and serene seasons, when the Hea∣vens are least disturbed with winds and storms; Ros est humidum quid è serenitate concretum minutatim labens;

it is a moysture drawn up by the Sun in the day, and then falling by small innumerable drops in the night. And is it not thus in the grace of God? Are not those hearts refreshed most with it, that are least disqui∣eted with Earthly Cares, and tossed too and fro with Anxieties? Are not such, like Gideons Fleece, plentiful∣ly wet with the Evidences of Gods love, when others, like the ground about it, are wholly dry?

Lastly, The Dew is of a growing and reviving na∣ture, which brings a life and verdure to Fields, Vine∣yards, Gardens, Flowers, which the cold would chill, or the heat would scorch. Therefore when God pro∣mised to Israel the beauty of the Lilly, the stability of the Ced••r, the fruitfulness of the Olive, to effect all this he saith, he will be as the dew. And what ground can but bring forth when he who is the Father of the Rain, and begetteth the drops of the dew, shall him∣self descend upon it in bounty and goodness? Who can but love him with a love of duty, whom he shall thus tender with a love of mercy? Who can but love him with a love of Concupiscence, as being more desi∣rous of new Influences, than satisfied with former Receipts, whom he so freely loves with a love of Beneficence? O Lord, my Soul thirsteth for thee as the gaping and chapped earth doth for the moysture of the Heavens; I am nothing, I can do nothing without thee; my fruitfulness, my growth, my life depend wholly upon the droppings of thy grace; when they dew lieth all night upon my Branch, my glory is fresh in me, and my whole man is as the smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed. Be not therefore unto me. O my God, as a Cloud without Rain, left I be as a Tree without fruit. But let thy grace alwaies distill upon me as the dew, and as the small rain upon the tender herb, and

then shall I be as the ground, which drinketh in the showers that come oft upon it, and bringeth forth fruit meet for him by whom it is dressed, and receive also new blessing from God.

Meditation XIV. Vpon a Pearl in the Eye.

VVHat specious names have Physicians put upon diseases, who call a Plague Sore a Carbuncle, and the white film, which taketh away the delightful sight, a Pearl in the Eye? Do they gild over Diseases, as they do their Pills, or a Bolus, that so their Patients may less fear and feel the evil of the one, as they less taste the bitterness of the other? And are any by such slender Artifices brought into an opinion that a Car∣buncle is less mortal or loathsome than any other swel∣ling that hath not so gay a name? Or that blindness which is caused by a Pearl in the Eye, is more comfor∣table than the loss of sight that comes by other acci∣dents? Methinks Reason should not run at so low an ebb in any, as to please themselves in such fancies; may not a Poyson have a name that sounds better to the ear; a colour more pleasing to the eye, and a taste that is more grateful to the Pallate, than the Antidote which expels it? May not Alchimy glister when Gold looks pale? And yet alas! in spiritual maladies, in which the danger is so much the greater by how much the soul is of more value than the body; with what strange delusions are many transported? who when their minds are poysoned with Errour and Blasphemy,

do then put upon their corrupt Opinions and Tenents, the glorious names of Revelations, Visions, Raptures, refined notions, and what not, that may confirm them∣selves in their own dotages, and win others into an ad∣miration of their persons. Thus Montanus gave out himself to be the Comforter that Christ had promised to send forth into the World. Arius proudly boasted, that God had revealed something to him, which he hid from his Apostles. And Eunomius fondly imagined that he was taken up to Heaven, as Elias was; and had seen Gods face, as had Moses, and was wrapt up to the third heaven, as was Paul. But what other thing are these Follies, or rather Phrensys, than as if an Is∣rael te infected with the botch of Egypt, and overspread with it from the sole of the foot to the crown of the head, should boast that he had robbed the Egyptians of their most precious Jewels, and had decked him∣self with them? Would not men pitty his distemper, rather than believe his confidence? Would not they offer medicines to heal him, rather than suffer him to perish under his miserable delusion of possessing great riches? How is it then that in matters of faith, in which there is both clear evidence and certainty, Here∣ticks, that are no other than ulcerous persons, fitter for. Dogs to lick than Christians to love, should through∣out all Ages so easily gain to themselves such a great multitude of Proselytes only by putting fair Names up∣on foul Errours? It is because men for their lusts sake will not see, but willingly corrupt themselves in those things which they know? or is it because God hath smitten them with a spirit of blindness that they shall not see, for their not receiving of the truth in the love of it? Surely, whatever the cause be, such is the infa∣tuation, as that I had need both to tremble, and to

pray: To tremble, at the sad woe which is denounced by God himself against those that call evil good, and good evill; That put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter. And to pray, as David did, Teach me thy way O Lord, I will walk in thy truth, unite my heart to fear thy name.

Meditation XV. Vpon Spiritual and bodily sickness.

THe soul hath its maladies, as well as the body; and such that for their likeness to them, do often borrow their names from them. Pride, is a Timpany; Avarice, a Dropsie; Security, a Lithargy; Lust, a Ca∣lenture; Apostacy, an Epilepsie. And yet (though these names of bodily diseases do happily serve to point and shadow out the nature of spiritual) how wide is the difference between the Patients of the one and of the other, in regard of those qualities which may dispose them for a cure and recovery out of them? In the dis∣eases of the body it matters not whether the Patient know the name of his disease, or understand the ver∣tue of the medicines which are prescribed, or be able to judge of the increase, height, and declination of his distempers by the beatings of his pulse; the whole business is managed by the care and wisdom of the Physician, who oft times conceals the danger on pur∣pose least fear and fancy should work more than his Physick, and hinder the benefit of what he applies. But in the maladies of the soul it is far otherwise; the first step unto spiritual health is a distinct and clear

insight of sin, such which makes men to understand the Plague of their own hearts; Christ heals by light, as well as by Influence; he first Convinceth them of sin, and then gives the pardon, he discovers the disease to them, and then administers the medicine. Ignorance is a bar to the welfare of the soul, though not of the bo∣dy, and makes the divine remedies to have as little effect upon it, as Purges or Cordials have upon the Glasses into which they are put. It is Solomons pe∣remptory Conclusion, that a soul without knowledge is not good, nor indeed can be, because it wants a principle, which is as necessary to goodness as a visive power to the eye to enable it to discern its object. How can he ever value holiness who understands not what sin is? Or desire a Saviour who hath no sence of his need? O therefore, blessed Lord, do thou dayly more open my eyes, that I may see my self to be among the sinzers, and not among the righteous; among the sick, and not among the whole; that so I may be hea∣led by thee, who camest not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance; nor to save the whole, but the sick. Be thou my Physician, and let me be thy Pati∣ent, untill thou makest me to say, I am not sick, because thou hast forgiven me all mine iniquities.

Meditation XVI. Vpon a Lamp and a Star.

SUch is the disparity between a Lamp and a Star, as that happily it may not a little be wondred at, why I should make a joynt Meditation of them which are

so greatly distant in respect of place, and far more in respect of quality, the one being an earthly, and the other an heavenly body. What is a Lamp to a Star in regard of influence, duration, or beauty? Hath it any quickning raies flowing from it? Or is its light im∣mortal, so as not to become despised by expiring? Can it dazle the beholder with its serene lustre, and leave such impressions of it self upon the eye, as may ren∣der it for a time blind to any other objects? Alas! these are too high and noble effects for such a feeble and uncertain light to produce, and proper only to those glorious bodies that shine in the Firmament. But yet this great inequallity between the one and the other serves to make them both more meet Emblems of the differing estate of Believers in this and the other life, who in Scripture, while they are on this side Heaven, are compared to wise Virgins with Lamps burning, and when they come to Heaven, to Stars shining, which endure for ever and ever. Grace in the best of Saints is not perfect, but must, like a Lamp, be fed with new supplies that it go not our, and be often trimmed that it be not dim. Ordinances are as necessary to Christians in this life as Manna to the Israelites in the wilderness though in Canaan it ceased; And therefore, God hath appointed his Word and Sacraments to drop continually upon the hearts of his Children, as the two Olive trees upon the golden Candlestick. What mean then those fond conceits of perfectists, who dream of living above all subsidiary helps, and judge Ordinances as useless to them, as oyl for a Star, or a snuffing of the Sun to make it shine more bright? It is true, when we come to heaven such things will be of no more use to our souls, than meat or drink will be to our bodies; but yet while we

are on the Earth, the body cannot live without the one, nor the soul without the other. Do thou there∣fore, holy God, perserve in me a due sense of my im∣potency and wants, whose light is fading, as well as borrowed, that so I may dayly suck supplies from thee, and acknowledge that I live not only by grace received, but by grace renewed, and while I am in this life, have light only as a Lamp in the Temple, which must be fed and trimmed, and not as a Star in Heaven.

Meditation XVII. Vpon a Chancery Bi••l.

ONe cause and original can have but one orderly and genuine birth, else what means our Saviours question, Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thi∣stles? Or that of S••. James, Doth a fountain at the same place send forth water sweet and bitter? May it not then justly be the opinion and mind of many, that the least fruit of any holy Meditation can never grow from such a bramble of Contention as a Chancery Bill? And that from such a spring of Marah, a sweet and delight∣ful stream can never issue? Yea, who will not be rea∣dy to take up Nathanaels question, Can any good thing come out of Nazareth? And then what better answer can I return to such than Philips, Come and see? And now let me say what I have often thought, That be∣tween such a Bill and most mens Confessions of sin in prayer, in which they implead themselves to God, there is too great a likeness in this respect, that the complaints in both have more of course and form than

truth and reality. In the one it is Mos curiae, the usage and custome of the Court for the Plaintiffe to pretend Fraud, Rapines, Combinations, Concealments done and made to the prejudice of his right, which yet he never intends to prove against the Defendant, but only to make use of as a ground of inquiry. And is it not thus also in the other? Are there not in Prayer large Catalogues and Enumerations of sin, which many charge them∣selves with before God, as if it were their great work to justifie God in their self condemnation? Pride, Wantonness, Hypocricy, Contumacy, are the black, shall I say, or Scarlet sins, that are among others instanced in? And yet what other thing is intended by them than to make up the outside of a Prayer? These sins are only placed in it, as dark shadows in a Picture to set it off with more advantage, and to commend it ra∣ther to men than to God. In the doing of the duty they think not in the least the worse of themselves for what they say against themselves, nor would have others so to do; else how comes it to pass, that in charging themselves so deeply at Gods Tribunal, there is as little appearance of shame or sorrow in their face, as there was of a Cloud in the Heavens when Elijahs Servant returned this Answer, that there was nothing? Now though it be no part either of my work or purpose to justifie or condemn the practises of humane Judica∣tories, which admit loose suggestions, that are Ar∣rows shot at random, because that now and then they serve for a discovery: Yet I cannot but condemn and abhor that the confession of sin in prayer should be as slight and overly as the complaints of a Chancery Bill, and that particular sins specified in it, and aggravated with hainous Circumstances, should be no other than things of course, done rather to lengthen out the duty

then affect the heart; to discover quickness of Parts rather then truth of grace. What is this but to make Prayer i•• self, which should be as sweet Incense burn∣ing upon the Golden Altar, to be as an Offering of Sul∣pher, or Assafaetida? What is this but to mock God, the great searcher of the heart, with vain words, and to publish to the World how little they fear his anger, or vallue his pardon? for if the Confession of Sin be for∣mal, how can the seeking of forgiveness be real? O holy Lord preserve me from such hypocrisie, and re∣member not what in this kind I have been guilty of: my desire is to judg my self, not in word, but in truth, and unfeignedly to beg, that I, who am in the court of thy justice wholly inexcusable, may in the Chancery of thy Mercy become altogether inaccusable.

Meditation XVIII. Vpon the philosophers stone.

THis Lemma, or Title may happily as much affect such who make Gold their God, as the sight of the Star did the Wise Men, hoping that it will be both a light and guide to the discovery of that rare and match∣less secret, of turning the more base and inferiour Met∣ralls into the more noble; Iron into Silver, and Brass into Gold, and so Enrich them with an Artificial Indies. But I can sc••rce resolve my self whether the Philoso∣phers Stone, which is thus framed for wonders, be not rather a Speculation than an absolute reallity, or an at∣tempt assayed by many, rather than an Atcheivment at∣tained by few or any: How many have melted down

Ample Revenues in their Crusibles, and while they have, with much labour, sought the Sublimation of Met∣tals, have sunk themselves into the deepest begge∣ry? and how have others consumed their time, if not wasted their Estates in a fruitless pursuit of it? and yet have seen no other change then what age and care hath made in themselves, by turning their golden hair into silver hair; or at the best have gleaned up some few Experiments onely, which have not Compensated their cost and travel. But, what if any Man, after long search and study, can Archimedes like cry out joyfully, that he hath found? Yea, what if every Man, who have busied his thoughts, and imployed his time in diving into this Mystery, should be able to effect such a Change, and to multiply his Treasure as the Sand? yet, how worthless and inconsiderable would such pro∣ductions of his Philosophical Stone be found, if com∣pared with the noble and transcendent effects of the Divine, or Theological Stone, which Christ promiseth in the Revelation to him that overcometh: whose worth, as it is far greater, so the way to obtain it is more facile and certain, it being not a work of labour, but a gift of grace. This Stone is of such power and energy, that whosoever is possessed of it, can have nothing bef••l him, which it changeth and turneth not to his good: it turn∣eth all temporal losses into spiritual advantages; all cros∣ses into blessings; all asflictions into comforts: it dig∣nifies reproach and ignomy; it changeth the hardship of a Prison into the delights of a Pallace; it is an heavenly Anodyne against all paines, and makes the Soul to possess it self in patience in every condition. It is a Panacea, an universal Salve for every Sore, to all acci••ents that can befall a Man; It is as the Seal to the W••x, putting upon them a new st••mp and figure,

and making them to be what they were not before, and what they never could have been without it. Such it is that he who hath it, hath all good: and he that wants it (whatever else he seemes to possess) hath little less then nothing. Who then can without mourning as well as wondering, think at the prodigious folly of those Men, who labour in a continual fire to effect the Stone of the Transmutation of Mettalls, and yet deem this Divine Stone scarce worth the begging of God in a Prayer? Is this wisdom to toile in the refining of Clay, and to be able to make a dull piece of Earth to shine, and then to value our happiness by it? is this wisdom to set a low rate upon what God hath promised to give, and highly to esteem what we can do? O Lord, if this be the Worlds wisdom, let me become a fool: I had rather have this Divine Stone of thy Promise, then all the Treasures that Nature and Art can yield. Let the Mountains be turned into Gold, the Rocks into Dia∣monds, the Sands into Pearles, yet this Stone with the New Name written in it, is to me more desirable then all, as being a sure pledg of life and happiness in heaven.

Meditation XIX. Vpon a Greek Accent.

ACcents are by the Hebrews aptly called Sapores, Tastes, or Savors, because that Speech, or Words, without the observance of them, are like Jobs White of an Egg, without Salt, insipid, and unplea∣sant. In the Greek they derive their name from the

due tenor, or tuning of words; and in that Tongue words are not pronounced according to the long or short vowels, but according to the accent set upon them, which directs the rise or fall, the length or brevi∣ty of their pronunciation; now, what accents are in the Greek to words, that methinks circumstances are to sins, which, as so many Moral accents do fitly serve to shew their just and certain dimensions, and teach us a∣right to discern how great or small they be: and he, that without respect had unto them, doth judge of the bigness of sins, is like to erre as much as a Man that should take upon him, without Mathematical Instru∣ments, to give exactly the greatness of the Heavenly Bodies, and to pronounce of Altitudes, Distances, As∣spects, and other appearances, by the scantling of the Eye: Is not this the Scripture way to set out Sin, by the Place, Time, Continuance in it, and repetitions of it? doth not God thus accent Israels sins by the place in which they were done? they provoked him at the Red-Sea, where they saw the mighty workes of his power, in making the deep to be their path to Canaan, and the Aegyptians Grave. They tempted him in the Wilder∣ness, where their Food, Drink, Clothes, were all made up of Miracles; the Clouds yielding them Meat, the dry Rock Water, and their Garments not waxing old. Dot•• he not aggravate them, by the long space of their continuance in them, in saying, that they grieved him fourty years? doth he not number the times of their Reiterated, Murmurings and Rebellions, and make it as a ground for his Justice to destroy them? Necessary therefore it is, that in the duty of Self-examination, and reviewes of the Book of Conscience, we do not only read over the naked Facts which have been done by us, but that we look into those Apices peccati, little

dots and tittles, which are set upon the heads of many sins (the Circumstances I mean with which they were committed) or else we shall never read that book aright, or learn to know what sins are great, or what small. The Fact and the Circumstance are both noted in the Journals of Conscience, though they be not hap∣ly equally legible; and he that is truly peni••ent will make it a chief part of his work to find out one as well as the other, as being the best meanes both to get the heart broken for sin, and from sin. What shame? what fear? what carefulness? what revenge will a serious sight of the several aggravations that meet in the per∣pretation of a sin move and stir up in the heart of a sin∣ner? will he not say, what a beast am I to ••in thus against so clear light? to break so often my own vowes, to defer so long my Repentance and Rising again? what revenge shall I now take of my self to witness my Indignation? what carefulness shall I exercise to evidence the truth of my return? what diligence shall I use to redeem my lost time, who have joyned the Morning of the Task, and the Evening of the day to∣gether? These, and such like thoughts, will sin, when it is Read as it is Written, and Accented, in the Con∣science produce. But a general ••nowledg and sight of it, without such particularities, will neither m••ke nor leave any impressions but what are both slight and confused. Do thou therefore, holy God, teach me to understand the errors of my wayes aright, and by the light of thy spirit make me to see that Circumstances in sins are not Motes, but Beames, and greatly intend their guilt, if not their bulke; That so I may mourn for those sins which Carnal Men conceive to be but so many black nothings; and abhor my self for those Corruptions in which they indulge themselves.

Meditation XX. Vpon a debauched Minister.

IT is a Truth, though it hath been questioned by some, and denied by others, that the Function of a Mini∣ster is Formally executed by Gifts, which are not made effectual by his Personal Sanctity, but by the grace of God in the hearer. The one may move Morally, but it is the other which worketh Efficaciously; and for any to conceive otherwise is a smatch of Donatisme, who made the validity of Ordinances wholly to depend upon the real goodness of those that Administred them; which opinion, if it were true, it must necessarily follow, that there must be an absolu••e knowledge in the Peo∣ple, of discerning unfeigned Grace in the heart of the Minister, from all pretended semblances and showes, or else what comfort can they have in the validity of his Acts, while this suspicion abides upon them; that is, if he be not really holy, all that he can do is no other then a Nullity? we must then distinguish be∣tween the grace of gifts, which God bestowes for the good of the Church, and the gift of grace, which he gives for the good of the Soul of him who is partaker of it: By the one of these a Man may become a Mini∣ster; but without the conjunction of both he can ne∣ver be a good Minister. Holiness then, as it is that which no Man can be well without, so a Minister least of all; it being the great end of his Office to turn Men from sin to God, and to draw Men up from earth, yea from the danger of Hell to Heaven: And should

he not do what he Teacheth, and second his Doctrine with his Example: he must needs sin against his Cal∣ling, which alwayes heightneth the notoriety of the fact. No sins being so inexcusably sinfull, as those that are committed against Mens Callings: For a Steward to be a Thief, for a Physician to be a Murderer, for an Ambassador trusted with the Affairs of his Prince to be a Traitour, are Crimes of greater Infamy in them then in another. How then can the impieties of a Minister but be above all others, by so much the worst, by how much his Calling is above all others the best? what then can be more prodigious, then for him, who should be Gods Mouth to the People, to have his Tongue set on Fire of Hell, and not touched with a Coal from the Altar? or for him whom God hath ho∣noured with that high imployment of winning Souls, to be an accursed Appollyon in undoing and destroying them by his nefarious and impure living: If he that shall break the least Commandment, and Teach Men so, shall be called least in the Kingdom of Heaven, what then shall he be called who breaks the greatest Commandment, and Teacheth Men so? surely I scarce know what to call him, who hath of a Minister thus transformed himself into a Monster, he is not a Star in Christs right hand, but in the Dragons Tail, which drew many from Heaven and cast them down upon the Earth. He is amongst the Prophets, the Si∣meon rightly called Niger, not for his Complexion, but for his Conversation: he is in the House and Temple of God, not as the Priests which did bear the Ark, but as the Beasts which drew it and shook it. For, if the sins of any Man do loosen and endanger the Foundations of Christian Religion, it is the wickedness of Mini∣sters, which makes many to question whether there be

an Heaven, an Hell, or a God. And though it may possibly now and then fall out, that the Seed of Di∣vine Truth, like Corn sown by a leprous hand, grow up into some fruit; yet how small is the good that is wrought by this Doctrine, to the great hurt that is done by the dissolute life of such a Minister? is it likely that he, who in the Pulpit pleads for honour to be given to Christs Person, obedience to be yielded to his Pre∣cepts, faith to be exercised in his Promises, and when he is out of it g••insayes all that he hath spoken in his sensual practises, should win many Disciples to Christ? will he be ever much hearkened unto who decries Drunkenness, Swearing, wantonness, as the high-Rodes and Pathes to destruction, and yet turns not his own feet from walking in them? will it not be said unto him, Physician heal thy self? or, thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thy own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mo••e that is in thy Bro∣thers eye. But what ever the issue be, whether Men hearken, o•• not hearken, yet will the condition of such a Minister be most sad in the great day: if he be in∣strumental in the saving of any, yet they shall be none of his Crown or Joy, nor in the least extenuate his mi∣sery, but aggravate it, in that he hath been onely to them as a standing Statue, to point out the way to hea∣ven, not a living Companion to walk with them in it. How much then will it augment his pains and anguish, when the blood of many misled and lost Soules must fall upon his head, and he be condemned as the cursed Murderer of them? O that these few words might prick the hearts of such, who have worn the badg of God, and yet done the Devils work, who have been his Servants by Office, and his Enemies by Practice, that they might timely think both of saving themselves and

others. However, blessed God, help me to do the Of∣sice of a Minister, and keep me from the punishment of a Minister. Pardon mine inabili••ies in thy Service, and deliver me from scandalous sins. Enable me to bear Reproach for Christ, but let me never be a re-Proach to Christ, or his Gospel.

Meditation XXI. Vpon the Golden Calfe, and the Bra∣••en Serpent.

THe Makers of these two Images were Moses and Aaron, such a pair of Brethren as History cannot parallel for Eminency, and whose Names out-shine greatly all others of the like alliance that have an ho∣nourable mention in the Book of God. Where are there two Brethren in that Sacred Chronicle, so re∣nowned for sundry Miracles done by them? or so highly dignified by Titles given to them by the Spirit of God as they? Moses being stiled signally the Servant of God; and Aaron, the Saint of the Lord: and yet how strangly differing are their two Images? they are unlike in the Matter; the one being of Gold, and the other of Brass? unlike in the Figure, the one a Calfe, the other a Ser∣pent: but most unlike in their Effects, the one Killing, and the other Healing. Vi••••lus aureus occidit Serpens Aeneus sanat: The Golden Calfe that kills, and the Brazen Serpent that saves alive. One would think that the same Fountain should as soon send forth Salt Water and Fresh, as either of these to do any thing

that should terminate in such contrary effects, by whose harmonious Conduct Israel had been led as a Flock of Sheep through the Wilderness. But what if their Actions did Jarr? yet, who could readily con∣ceive that Aarons Calfe should be as a destroying poy∣son? or that Moses his Serpent should be as an effectu∣all Antidote to save alive? did he not flee from his Rod when turned into a Serpent, as fearing to be hurt by it? And was not this Brazen Serpent in shape and figure like to those fiery Serpents, that had stung many Israelites to death? from whence then comes this strange difference between the one and the other, is it not from hence? Aarons Calfe, though made of Gold, was without, yea against a command of God; but Moses his Serpent, though of Brass, was by his special appointment. Let the Institutions of God be never so mean and despicable to the eye of sense; yet they shall obtain their designed end: and let the Inventions of Men be never so rich and costly, yet they will be found to be no other then hurtful vanities. Who is of so small an Insight in the Mystery of Idolatry and Super∣stition, as not to observe how they affect a Pomp and Splendor in their Religion, as if when they had made it Gay, they had made it Good? and how greatly they despise the simplicity of that Worship which is not clothed and decked with an external Grandure? But will a Clove in the Mouth cure the unsavory breathings of corrupt Lungs? or will the Leper•• making of him∣self brave with the finest Garments cause the Priest to pronounce him clean, when he comes to behold his Sore? then may such arts and palliations of men, wedded to Idolatrous practises, vindicare the evil of their doings, and justifie them to be such as God will not condemne. But as Religion is not a thing left to

any mans choice, to pick out from that diversity, with which the World abounds, what best pleaseth himself; so neither are the wayes and Mediums of the Exercise of it at all in his power. As God is the object of Worship, so the meanes by which he is honoured, and his servants benefited that use them, must be appoint∣ed by himself. His will and not mans must be the sole and ad••quate Rule. For all Ordinances do not work necessarily, as the Fire burns, or as the Sun enlightens the Air; nor do they work Physically, as having an inherent power to produce their effects; but they are operative, by way of Institution, and receive their vertue from God, who therefore appoints weak and in∣sufficient things to the eye of Reason, that himself may be the more acknowledged in all. What could be more unlikely to heal the bitings of a fiery Serpent, then the looking up onely to a Brazen Serpent? or to restore to the blind Man his ••ight, then the anointing of his eyes with Clay and Spittle? And yet these things God and Christ are pleased to make use of; not from indigency, as if they could not work without meanes, but from Wisdom and Councel, to shew, that they can work by any: Let no Man then fondly make it his Work, or count it his duty to honour God with his In∣ventions, though specious and beautiful in his own eyes; but let him value and prize Gods Institutions, though to outward appearance they be contemptible. The Blew-Bottles, and other Weeds in the Field are more gaudy and delightful to the Eye than the Corn amongst which they grow; but yet the one are worth∣less, and the other is full of strength and nourishment.

Meditation XXII. Vpon the Circulation of the bloud.

THough it be no confessed Maxime, yet it is an opi∣nion which many Physicians do confidently assert, that the motion of the bloud is Circular, and that the bloud which is in the feet hath a reflux back into the heart. But it is not for me, if there be a dif∣ference between those who are of the secrets of nature, to undertake the decision of it least it be said to me, as i•• was to Moses, when he mediated between the two Israelites that strove, Quis te constituit Judicem? Who made you a Judge over us? I shall therefore turn my thoughts from it, unto the circulation which is in the civil body of Society, wherein the affections, habits, manners, as a kind of spiritual bloud, may be truly affirmed both to flow upward from the inferiour parts of it to the superiour, and to descend again from the superiour parts of it to the inferiour. But yet this dis∣proportion is to be observed, that the Efluxes both of good and evil which move downwards, are more quick and operative, than those which ascend from below upwards. Great persons by their manners and carri∣age do sooner make impressions upon persons of a meaner rank than they are able to reflect back upon them again. This Moral Circulation therefore may teach those who are as the noble and Architectonical parts of the civil body full of power and influence, to be exact and circumspect in their converse and living, that others, upon whom their influences fall, may be

drawn by them to a love of holiness, and not seduced to lusts and intemperancies by their example. If he who was rightly surnamed Copronimus, have a fan∣cy to the smell of horse-dung, as to besmear himself with it, all his Courtiers, in a servile compliance unto him, will qualifie themselves for his company by using no other perfumes. Yea, if greater Beastiali∣ties be used by other Princes, they are not likely to want followers. The whole Court will be soon, like Jacobs Cattel, spotted and speckled, as being apt to conceive, with some tincture of the Colours which they see in those waters whereof they dayly drink. It being an hard thing to be an Obadiah that fears God greatly in Ahabs Court, or a Saint in Neroes Houshold. But though evil in those who are in high places be more infectious, and the good more powerful than it is in others; yet the vices of those who are in a lower Station have a tendency to corrupt the greatest, as the head in the body natural is oft distempered by the feet. And so the vertues that are in them are also operative to influence those that are in dignity above them, to the making of themselves evil, if not more good. The lustre of St. Johns Sanctity, though cloathed with Ca∣mels hair, extorts reverence from Herod in his Robes; and Pauls excellent demeanour of himself at the Bar, well-nigh overcomes Agrippa upon the Bench to be a Christian. O how careful then should every man be, who in what condition soever he stands is a part of the body of humane society, to abhor evil, and to cleave to that which is good? When the effects both of the one and other are not terminated in our selves, but do more or less benefit or hurt others as well as our selves.

Meditation XXIII. Vpon a Multiplying Glass.

WHat a vain and fictitious happiness would that be, if a poor man, who had only a small piece of money, should, by the looking upon it through a mul∣tiplying Glass, please himself in believing that he is now secure from the fears of pressing wants, his sin∣gle piece being suddenly minted into many pounds, with which he can readily furnish himself with fuell to warm him, cloaths to cover him, and food to satisfie him? But alas! when he puts forth his hand to take a supply from what he beholds, he can feel nothing of what he sees; and when the Glass is gone that pre∣sented him with so much Treasure, he can then see nothing but his first pittance, which also becomes the less desirable because of the disappointment of his hopes. Upon what better foundation doth the felici∣ty of the greatest part of men stand, which is not fixed upon any true and spiritual good, as its proper Basis, but upon the specious semblances of a corrupt and mutable fancy? What is it that rich men do not promise them∣selves, who conceive riches to be a strong Tower? They think they can laugh at Famine, and when others, like the poor Egyptians, whose Substance is exhausted, sell themselves and their children for food, they can buy their bread at any rate. If Enemies rise up against them, they question not, but they can purchase a peace or a victory. If Sickness come, oh how can they please themselves in thinking that their Purse can com∣mand

the Physicians skill, and the Drugsters shops. Elixars, Cordials, Magisterial powders, they conceive beforehand will be prescribed both as their dyet and Physick: And every avenue of the body, at which the disease or death may threaten to enter, shall be so for∣tified, as that both of them shall receive an easie and quick repulse. Now what are all these representations but the impostures of the glass of fancy, which, like the colours in the Rainbow, have more of shew tha•• of Entity. Doth not Solomon counsel men not to labour ••o be rich? And expostulate with them, Wilt thou set thine eyes upon that which is not? Doth not our Saviour call them, deceitful Riches? And Paul, uncertain Riches? What then can they contribute to the real happiness of any man? Surely the transient sparks that with much difficulty are forced from the flint, may as soon add light to the body of the Sun, as Riches can yield any solid comfort to the soul, or keep it from lying down in the bed of darkness and sorrow. Away then from me ye flattering vanities and gilded no∣things of the world, get you to the Bats, and to the Moles, and try what beauteous rayes you can dart into their eyes. I will hence no more behold you in the Glass of Fancy, but in the Glass of the Word, which discovers that ye are alwaies vanity and vexation, no objects of trust in the times of strait, or price of deli∣verance in the day of wrath. It is methinks observa∣ble that four times in Scripture this saying is repeated, That Riches and Treasures profit nothing in the day of wrath, twice in the Book of Proverbs, and then again by two Prophets, Ezekiel, and Zephaniah. Doubtless these holy men knew what an universal proness there is in the minds of most to exalt Riches above Righte∣ousness, and to think, that by them Heaven might be

purchased, and the flames of Hell bribed. How else could such words ever drop from the mouths of any, that they had made a Covenant with Death, and were at an agreement with Hell to pass from them? But, Lord, keep me from imagining to save my soul by Mer∣chandize, or of entituling my self any other way to the Inheritance of Heaven, than by the Bloud of Christ, who is my Life, my Riches, my Rejoycing, and sure Confidence.

Meditation XXIV. Ʋpon Gravity and Levity.

THe Stoick Philosophy was famous for Paradoxes, strange Opinions, improbable, and besides com∣mon conceit, for which it was much admired by some, and as greatly controuled, and taxed by others. How∣beit, not Stoicisme only, but every Art, and course of life and learning hath some Paradoxes or other, but Christianity hath many more, which seem like no∣thing less than truth, and yet are as true as strange. What can be more contrary to the Principles and Maxims of Philosophers, than to hold that there is a regress from a total privation to an habit? It was that which the Epicureans and Stoicks derided in Paul, when he preached the Resurrection from the dead; and yet Christians build all their happiness and confidence up∣on it. What can seem to carry more of a contradicti∣on in it than that saying of our Saviour, He that will lose his life shall find it? And yet it is a truth of that im∣portance, that whosoever follows not Christs counsell

will certainly miss of life. What will happily appear more novel and strange, than that which I shall now adde by inverting the common Axiom, and affirming this as a truth, Levia tendunt deorsum, & gravia sur∣sum, Light things fall downwards, and heavy ascend upwards: The lighter they are the lower they sink, and the heavier they are the higher they rise; and yet this Riddle hath a truth in it. In Scripture the wicked that must fall as low as hell are resembled to things of the greatest Levity as well as vileness, Dust, Chaff, Smoke, Fume, Scum: and the Saints that must ascend as high as Heaven, are likened to things of weight as well as worth: To Wheat, the heaviest of which is the best; to Gold, which is of Metals the weightiest, as well as the richest; to Gems and precious Stones. that are va∣lued by the number of the Carrats which they weigh, as well as by their lustre with which they sparkle. Yea, God hath his Ballance to weigh men and their actions, as well as his Touchstone to try them. He is a God of knowledge, by whom actions are weighed, saith Han∣nah in her Song: And if he find great men a lye and vanity upon the Ballance he will not spare them. What a severe Judgment did God execute upon Bel∣shazzar, who being weighed and found wanting, was in the same night cast out both from his Kingdom, and from the Land of the living? And what a dreadful Sentence hath Christ foretold shall come from his mouth in the great day against those who have made a vain and empty profession of his Name, who are bid to depart from him, and go accursed into everlasting fire, not for doing evil against his, but for not doing of good unto them? A form of Godliness without the power will condemn, as well as real and open wicked∣ness: To be found too light in Gods Scale may be a

bar to heaven, as well as the load of many sins. O remember who hath said it, Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the Kingdom of heaven. How gladly then would I perswade Christians, that the best way to climbe the Jacobs Ladder, which hath its foot on Earth, and its top in glory, is to be fully laden with all fruits of holiness. Christi sarcina pennas habet non pondus, the burden of Christ is not a pressing weight, but a winged thing which carries the Soul up∣wards, and helps it to soar aloft towards God himself. None are crowned with greater glory, or set upon higher Thrones, than they who have their fruit unto true holiness above others.

Meditation XXV. Ʋpon false Mediums.

THe fruition of the end, is the Sabbath of all acti∣on, having this property in it, to quiet as well as incite the Agent; for nothing moves that it may move, but moves that it may rest. And yet though the end be alwaies desirable, it is by Agents who act freely, and out of choice often missed, and falls short of, as well as enjoyed. And this sometimes comes to pass by their dividing the means from the end, presuming they may obtain the one, and yet not use the other. With this Sophism Satan hath cheated many of Salvation, while he hath made them confident of happiness, and yet careless of holiness; and to think they may Inne with the righteous, though they never travel with

them in the way, that they may reap glory, though they sow seed to the flesh. Sometimes again they miss the end though they use the means, because they do not proportion the one to the other. They use the means, but it is, as some Patients take Physick, to stir the hu∣mours rather than to carry them away, and thereby endanger themselves, rather than effect a cure. Many through the strength of Conviction yield that if they will have heaven something must be done by them; but their study is rather to find out the invisible point, where nature and grace part, than to abound in all manner of holy Conversation, and so while they strive to do no more then what will save them, they mi∣serably fall short of what is requisite. Others again miscarry in regard of the end, by pitching upon false and vain means, such when laboured and persisted in do not profit in the least. Would any man wonder at his disappointment, that should hunt an Hare with a Snail? Or to hit the Mark should shoot an Arrow out of a Butchers Gambrel? Or to make a Tree fruitful should cloath the body of it with costly Silks instead of feeding the root with good mould? Would not this folly be rather greatly reproached by all, then his fru∣strated endeavours in the least be pitied by any? And yet how many men who would brand such a person with the deepest mark of folly and madness are guilty of as great infatuation in matters of far higher moment? Is there any thing that can be of more real consequence, than the eternal welfare of an immortal soul? Can the care of Anxiety be too great what Rocks to shun; what paths to tread; what means to use, that may bring the soul and salvation together? And yet behold what an ill choice of Mediums do such who profess themselves wise make to effect it: The Idolater, he

after a strange manner first makes his God, and then begs his happiness from it; one part of the Wood he burnes, as Fuel to serve him, and the other part of it he serves and dreads as a Deity, and falling down unto it, worshippeth it, and saith, deliver me for thou art my God. The wretched Libertine he thinks it little skills what Religion any man is of, so he be but true unto it, and walk according to the Rules and Principles of it: as if Heaven were a Port to which all Windes would drive; an Inn in which Travellers that journey from contrary quarters may be equally received. The Pha∣risaical Christian layes the stress of his Salvation upon his Duties, which at best are like chaines of glass, more specious then strong; like flourishings in Parchment, that cannot bear a fiery trial. O how few are they who consider that Heaven stands like a little Mark in a wide Field, where there are a thousand wayes to erre from it, and but one to hit it? yea, though God hath said that there is but one Sacrifice by which we can be perfected; but one Blood by which we can be Purified; but one Name by which we can be saved; yet how hardly are the best drawn to trust perfectly to the Grace revealed, and to look from themselves to Christ, as the Author and Finisher of their blessedness? To make them a right choice of the way that leads to Salva∣tion, is not an act of Natural Wisdom, but of Divine Illumination, and Teachings of the Spirit, who both inlightneth the Minde, and inclineth the will to chuse the one thing which is necessary. O therefore, holy Father, seeing thou hast made the whole Progress of Salvation, from first to last to be in Christ, and by Christ; Election to be in him, Adoption to be in him, Justification to be in him, Sanctification to be in him, Glorification to be in him; grant, that whatever others

do, I may never chuse the Candlelight of Reason, but the Sun of Righteousness, as the guide of my feet into the pathes of life, and both in life and death say, as that blessed Martyr did, none but Christ, none but Christ.

Meditation XXVI. Ʋpon the Royal Oak.

THe Perfections of God, his Soveraignty, Power, Wisdom and goodness are seen as in a bright mir∣ror, not onely in the standing workes of Creation, but in the transient workes of Providence, who doth, as Job ac∣knowledgeth great things past finding out, and wonders without number. But among the many signal Birth••s of Providence this which my thoughts are now upon may justly challenge the right of the First-born in a double portion, both of Meditation and Admiration: As then Zacheus to see Jesus climbed up into a Syca∣more-Tree, and thereby gained not onely a sight of Christ, but a gracious look, and comfortable words from him: let us also climbe this Royal Oake, that we may have an awfull ••ight of God, such, as may not onely fill us with wonder, but further us in holiness, which is the great end of Gods Providences as well as of his Ordi∣nances. And the first step or motion that I shall make to ascend this Oak by, is the consideration of Gods Power, in using the same Creatures, not onely in dif∣fering, but in contrary Services, as he is pleased seve∣rally to apply them. The Fire at the same time pre∣serves the three Children in the Furnace, and devours

the Instruments of their Persecution: The Red-Sea is Israels Path to Canaan, and the Waters a Wall on each hand, but both are made the Aegyptians grave: The Earth opens her Mouth to swallow up Corah and his Company, but it helpes the Woman in her flight by opening its mouth to drink in the Flood, which the Dragon sent forth from his Mouth to destroy Her. The Trees of the Field fight for David, and contri∣bute to his Victory more than his Army; for it is said that the Wood destroyed more than the Sword: An Oak Arrests Absolom in his flight, who is caught and hanged in it, as if it would point out what was the just reward of his Treason and Rebellion against his King and Father; But an Oak succours our Prince in his retreat from the strength and power of a pre∣vailing Enemy; and though it can ••ender no Wreaths or Crownes to him, yet it spreads forth its Armes to receive him, and keeps him in so much safety as to deliver good Men of their Feares who were afflicted for his Jeopardy, and to disappoint others of their hopes who were Vainly Confident that he would be found either among the number of the Slain, or of the Prisoners; But God was seen in the Mount, ma∣king his Escape to be far more wonderful in every Mans eyes than their Victory. Who then would not Adore and Fear such a God, at whose Beck, Fire, Water, Trees of the Field, yea and all Creatures be∣come Enemies, or Friends, as he pleaseth to make them.

A second step is the consideration of Gods abso∣lute Soveraignty over all Potentates, and Kings of the Earth; who, as Elihu expresseth it, Breaketh in pieces the Mighty without number, and sets others in their stead. How full are the Sacred Chronicles of strange

Vicissitudes and Changes which God hath made in the Crownes and Scepters of Princes? Sauls King∣dom is taken from him and given to David: Rehobo∣ams is rent in twain, and of twelve parts two onely possessed by him: Athalia she usurpes the Throne, and destroyes the Seed Royal: Joash is slain by a Con∣spiracy: Manasseh is bound in Fetters: Zedekiah hath Judgment given against him to take his farewell of the light, in beholding the slaying of his Sons, and then to have both his eyes put out. How easie were it to fill a Volume in this kind? but what need we search further into History, have we not seen as sad Spectacles as we can any where read? h••th not Royal Blood been shed upon a Scaffold, to the shame and reproach of Re∣ligion? have we not seen Persons of mean extracti∣ons, leaving their Cottages, and dwelling in Kings Pal∣laces, when Soveraignty hath been forced to take up the lodging of a Crow? have we not seen that disquie∣ting Prodigie, of Servants upon Horses, and Princes walking like Servants on foot? Now, to what end doth God thus shake the Mountaines, and make the greatest in Power to be as the Chaff of the Summer floores? is it not to stain the Pride of the Arm of Flesh, and to let every one know that Power belongeth unto the Lord, and that it is better to trust in the Lord, then to put confidence in Princes?

A third step, or motion, discovers to us how easily God can hide Persons and things from Man, when Man can neither hide Counsells from God, nor yet himself. Adam runs from God, and seeks shelter among the Trees of the Garden; but God findes him out: he sowes Fig-leaves together to cover his Nakedness, but God espies it. The Wings of the Morning can carry no Man to such a distance as that God shall not

behold him; nor the pitchy darkness of the Night make such a Covering, as he cannot look through, to whom the darkness and the light are both alike. The onely way for a sinner to hide himself from God, is to hide himself in God. But with what facility and varie∣ty of wayes can God secure and keep those whom Men design to destruction? David and ••ix hundered Men are in the sides of the same Cave into which Saul en∣ters, and he perceives it not. Joash is hid ••ix years in the Temple miraculously from the bloody Sword of Athaliah: and our Sovereign is no less wonderfully for some dayes preserved in an Oak, as in a Sanctuary, though his Enemies make a most strict search for him, there being no Nation, or Kingdom, under their Power, whether they did not send to seek him; and though they took not an Oath of them that they found him nor, yet they proclaimed ample Rewards to any that would discover him. We read in Judges of an Angel that sate under an Oak, and may we not well presume, that this Oak, which had a Prince in the top of it, had also an Angel at the bottom of it, if we well weigh the Eminency of the deliverance.

A fourth step gives us to behold the rich Mercy, and the great Faithfulness of God, who though he doth af∣flict, yet doth not forsake; who as he casts down, so he raiseth up: as he taketh away, so also he graciously re∣stored. Was ever Prince reduced to sorer straits? Did he not at once conflict with dangers of Life, Po∣verty, Banishment, disappointment of Counsells, and a daily setting back of his hopes by new difficulties and emergences that did arise? and yet how wonderfully did God make these Mountaines to become a Plain; the confused noise of Warriours in Battel, was not heard, Garments rolled in Blood were not seen; nei∣ther

were the Firr-trees terribly shaken in the Field; all was effected not by might nor power, but by the Spirit of God. The Temple, in which there was neither Hammer nor Axe, nor any Tool of Iron heard, was not built in a more calme and still manner than his Throne was Erected. And he who was as a Stone re∣jected for a long time, by certain Builders, at length became the Head-Stone of the Corner. May we not then well say this is the Lords doing, it is marvellous in our eyes? Let me therefore make here a pause, and in stead of a further progress, say as Moses did, I will stand and see this great sight, a Prince once disguised in a poor and mean habit, and now clothed with Robes of Majesty; once an Exile from three Kingdomes, and now possessing the just Royalties of them all. Once necessitated to climbe an Oak to preserve his own life, and now daily ascending the Throne to give out the Lawes of life and of death unto others. O what a web of wonders are here, of which God hath made garments of Praise and Salvation for him, whom ma∣ny judged to be not onely smitten but forsaken of God? Admiration methinks now is better then words; and silence, in an awfull beholding of these things, is more expressive then a free speaking of them. I shall there∣fore break off this Meditation, which I cannot happi∣ly end, adding onely this short Prayer, That the good will of him that dwelt in the Oak, as well as in the bush, may still be seen in the blessings that come from him, upon the Head of our Joseph, and on the Crown of the Head of Him that was separated from His Subjects, but is now wonderfully restored to them.

Meditation XXVII. Ʋpon the Weapon Salve.

VVHo was the Author of this Weapon Salve, cannot certainly be affirmed: Some attri∣bute it to Paracelsus, who was very pregnant in my∣sterious Inventions: others to one Parmensis Ans∣helmus an Italian, who was called a Saint, as Simon Magus of old, the great power of God, though both were no better then grand Sorcerers. But whoever he were, the Ointment is much famed (yet not alto∣gether unquestioned) for its strange manner of heal∣ing and curing of wounds, differing from other Phy∣sicall Applications in a double respect: The one is, that it is applyed not to the person who receives the wounds, but to the active Instrument that inflicts it, which is a subject not at all capable of sickness, or sanity, of ease or pain, and so cannot be recep∣tive of the alterative power of the Oyntment, which, if it work by a vertual contact, must necessarily have the intermedial Bodies to participate of it. The other is, that this Salve effects its Cure at di∣stances, which are inconsistent with the Rules of a mediate Contact, it heales the Patient when he is a hundred miles off, as well as when he is near; and that requires a vicinity of place, as well as a right disposition of the Medium. Now these differences, though they have served to heighten its esteem in the apprehensions of many, and have given occasion to

Learned Men, who are great admirers of Sympathies, to Write for it, or to be fautors of it; yet others of no less worth and repute have divided from them, and have slighted it as an empty vanity, or censured it as a Magical impiety. For my part I am not satis∣fied with such subtill nicities as are used to defend it, of common and universal Spirits, which convey the action of the remedy unto the part, and conjoyn the vertue of bodies far disjoyned, neither can I think it worthy of such speculations; it commonly heal∣ing but simple wounds, and such, which being kept clean, need no other hand then that of Nature, and the Balsam of the proper part. But there is a Wea∣pon Salve of which it is easie to speak much, but Impossible to say enough; so full it is of divine and mysterious wonders, if we consider either what it is, or what the cures are which it effects, or what the distance is in which it operates. Would you know what this Salve is? it is the Blood of Christ Crucifi∣ed, whose sufferings do all turn to the advantage of Believers: the Blood is his, but the Balme is theirs; the Thornes are his, but the Crown is theirs; the Price is his, but the Purchase is theirs: Would you hear what Cures it doth? it healeth inveterate Ul∣cers, and mortal Wounds; it extinguisheth the Fie∣ry Darts of Satan; it drawes forth the Venom of the Sting of Death; it easeth Pressures; it destroyeth Yokes, and what not, that riseth up as a let or barr 10 a Believers life or happiness. Would you know the extent of its vertue, and at what a distance it ope∣rates? Paul tells us, that by the Blood of his Cross Christ hath reconciled all things unto himself, whe∣ther they be things in Earth, or things in Hea∣ven. There is no Person that can stand so remote,

or be at any such Angle; or Corner of the Earth, but he may partake of the influence of it, if he do but cast up an eye of Faith towards Heaven, and be as fully healed as any other. Like as the stung Israe∣lite who lay in the utmost part of the Camp did re∣ceive equal benefit by looking to the Brazen Ser∣pent, with him that stood next unto the Pole upon which it was Erected. O therefore let not any, who are excercised with Spiritual Conflicts cast away their Confidence, but fight the good fight of Faith unto the end: for though they be not invulnerable, yet none of their Wounds are incurable. The Blood of Christ is more powerful to Save, than Sin, or other Enemies to Destroy; else the great end of Christs Coming into the World, of being a Phy∣sician to the Sick, a Deliverer to the Captive, an Healer of the Broken-Hearted would be in vain, and all the Saints must be still in their Sins. Set then Faith on work ye that Faint and Droop in your Mindes; and say not, who shall go up for us to Heaven, and bring this Salve-unto us that we may liye? or who shall go over the Sea for us and bring this Soveraigne Balme of Gilead unto us, that we may be healed by it? Do but Believe and the Cure is wrought. Faith is the Instrument which makes a vertual Contact between Christ and every Belie∣ver: It receives healing Grace from him, and strait∣wayes conveys it unto the Subject in which it is to terminate. For as Futurition in respect of the Ex∣istency of things is no prejud••ce to the Eye of Faith in the beholding of them as present; So neither is distance of place any hinderance to the efficacy of the touch of Faith, but that it may forthwith trans∣mit the Sanative Efflux of Christs Blood unto him,

who by Faith toucheth him: The Woman that la∣boured many yeares of the Bloody Issue, in the same instant that She touched the Hem of Christs Garment, felt in her self, that She was healed of her Plague. But I am jealous, that whilest I com∣mend this sacred remedy, some presumptuous Sin∣ner, who is more apt to abuse Grace, than a Wounded Spirit to improve it, should make no other use of it than to think he may sin securely, and needs not fear what bruises and wounds he con∣tracts, seeing the Cure is certain and speedy. I can therefore do no less then express my self in an holy Indignation against such, who would make the pre∣cious Blood of my Saviour subservient to their lusts, desiring rather to be freed from the danger than from the Dominion of their sins. O my Soul come not thou into their secret; unto their Assembly mine Honour be not thou united: Cursed be their lusts, for they are vile, and their desires for they are devillish. Let me bless God who hath made me whole, and sin no more, least a worse thing come unto me.

Meditation XXVIII. Ʋpon the Rudder of a Ship.

AMongst other Similitudes, which St. James useth to shew th••t great matters are effected by sm••ll means; this of the Rudder of a Ship is one, and he ushereth it in with a signal word, which the Scripture often prefixeth to weighty sayings, to render them the more remarkable: Behold also the Ships, which though

they be so great, are driven of fierce winds, yet are turned about with a very small Helm whithersoever the Gover∣nour listeth. The right guidance of this single part is of such consequence to the safety of the whole, as that every irregular motion may either hazard the Ves∣sel, or greatly hinder its progress, when it answereth not the just point of the Compass. How continually are these words of direction, Starboard, Starboard, Port, Port, spoken by him that eyes the Compass, re∣peated by him that holds the Helm, to prevent all danger that might arise from mistakes. Or else how suddenly would Rocks, Waves, or Sands make a prey of them? Well then might Aristotle in his Mechanical Questions propose it as a Problem worthy of a resoluti∣on, why a little helm hanging upon the outmost part of the Ship, should have such a great power as to move a vast bulk and weight with much facility, amidst storms and gusts of wind? And may we not answer, that the wisdom in these Arts is Gods, though the industry in the use of them is mans. But the more power it hath, the more apt Emblem it is of that faculty of the Will, which in all moral actions is the Spiritual Rudder of the soul, to turn the whole man this way or that way as it pleaseth. The Position of the School is a truth, Inclinatio voluntatis est inclinatio totius compositi: The inclination of the will is the inclination of the whole person, and according to the rectitude, or pravity of its motions both the man and his actions are denomi∣nated good or evil. And hence it is that Austin doth often define Sin by a mala voluntas, and good by a bona voluntas, because of the dominion which the Will hath in the whole man. Of how absolute concern∣ment is it then, that this great Engine which com∣mandeth all the inferiour powers of the soul, be not

disordered. If there be a Dyspepsie in the Stomack, an inflamation in the Liver, or a taint in some other Vitall, what can the less noble parts of the body contribute unto its health? If the Foundation be out of course, how can the Building stand? If the Spring be polluted, who can expect the Streams should be Christalline? If the will be vitiated, how can it be, that Fear, Hatred, Love, Joy, Desire, which in the sensitive part are Pas∣sions, but in the soul are immaterial affections, or rather operations of the Will, and are found in Angels them∣selves, should be pure and free from the corruption of their principle? It is therefore necessary that this spiritual Rudder have also a spiritual Compass by which it may steer, that so its motions may not be destructive, or at the least vain. And what can this Compass be but the Word and Will of God? Conformity and obedience unto which is the only happiness as well as the whole duty of man. It is mans duty to will what God wills, because as he was made like unto God in his Image, so he was made for God in his end. And it is the happiness of man to will and nill as God doth, because he thereby only comes to obtain a true and perfect rest: Else Seu caret optatis, seu fruitio miser est; whether he have or want what he desires, he is still miserable; like Noahs Dove, restless and fluttering till it can find out an object wherein it may acquiesce; Like the Grave and the Horse-leech, alwaies craving and never satisfied. See then, O Christian, from whence is it that this world, which is a tempestuous Sea unto all, proves so fatall to many in the sad ship∣wrack of their eternal happiness. Is it not from the lawless motions of their will? which when not gover∣ned by the will of God, as its perfect rule, is Cupiditas non voluntas, an impetuous and raging lust rather than a

will. What was it that ruined our first Parents, and in them all their Posterity, but the inordinacy of their will; by which they lost both their happiness and ho∣liness at once? And what is it under the Gospel into which Christ resolves the damnation of those that pe∣rish? Is it not that they will not come unto him that they might have life? All obedience or disobedience is properly, or at least primarily in no part but in the will, so that though other faculties of the soul in rege∣neration are sanctified, and thereby made conformable to the will of God, yet obedience and disobedience are formally acts of the will, and according to its quali∣fications is a man said to be obedient unto God or disobedient. O that I could therefore awaken both my self and others to a due consideration of what im∣portance it is, like a wise and industrious Pilot to guide this Rudder of the soul, the will of man, by the uner∣ring Compass of the will of God. Heaven is the Port for which we all profess our selves bound, and can it ever be obtained by naked and inefficatious velleities, by a few faint wishings and wouldings? What blind Ba∣laam would then miss of it? What sloathful man, that hideth his hand in his bosome, and will not so much as bring it to his mouth again, might not then possess it, as well as any Caleb, or Joshuah, that wholly followed the Lord, or as David who fulfilled all his wills? Me∣thinks that saying of our Saviour should be as a Goad in the side of every sluggard, Not every one that saith unto me Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven: but he that doth the will of my father which is in heaven. However, O holy God, let it quicken me to all diligence in an entire conformity of my will to thy will, that so I may readily do what thou commandest, and let me esteem it as the best part of heavens happi∣ness,

that I shall one day do it perfectly, as the Angels which behold thy face.

Meditation XXIX. Vpon the Balsam Tree.

SOme faces are by the Painter drawn with less diffi∣culty than others, the lineaments and features of them being such, as are more easie for his eye to ob∣serve, and for his hand also happily to express. And so it is with some Subjects of meditation above others, which with less labour of the mind are by the Pencill of the thoughts formed into lively resemblances of heaven∣ly things, and thereby bearing a proportion to our Senses, do convey spiritual mysteries in a facile and delightful manner to our understanding. Such a sub∣ject is this Balsam Tree, which while I think of the place of its growth, the way of obtaining its Juyce, and the soveraign vertue that it hath to effect strange cures, and to heal Inveterate diseases, it carries forthwith my thoughts to my blessed Saviour, who is the only repository in which God hath laid up all his invaluable treasures of healing Balsams. It readily suggests to me such moving Considerations as serve to exalt Christs Excellency in my heart, and to endeare him to me in all the ties of choycest affections; And that it may do so to others, I will draw the parallel between this Tree and Christ, that others may see what a sweet represen∣tation it is of him, who, as David saith, forgiveth all our iniquities, who healeth all our diseases. First, the sole place of this trees growth is in Emanuels Land.

It is Plinies observation, Balsamum uni terrarum Judeae concessum est; it is a special grant bestowed by God up∣on Judea: the Country which is renouned for Christs Birth is also only celebrated for this Balm, all other Na∣tions wholly wanted it, or at least had none like it. Mo∣ses tells us, that it was anciently one of the Is••maelites Commodities which they carried from Gilead to Egypt. And Ezekiel saith it was Israels and Judahs Merchan∣dise to Tyrus. Doth it not then genuinely poynt out unto us, that the whole world must be beholding to Christ for Salvation and healing? Doth it not as a spiritual Hierogliphick, assert that weighty Doctrine of Peters, That there is no name under heaven given amongst men, whereby we must be saved, but by the name of Christ? Why then do men lay out their money for that which is not Balm, Why do they take hold sometimes on one Creature, and sometimes one another, saying, Be thou our healer, let this ruin be under thy hand? Is it not one of those glorious Appellations which God in Scri∣pture is pleased to take unto himself, Ego Jehovah cu∣rator tuus; I am the Lord that healeth thee? Take heed then, O Christian, when thou art under any di∣stress, or under any malady to cheat thy self with false remedies, to use Fig leaves instead of Figs themselves. Adam took the one, which did only hide his nakedness, but not cure it; but to restore Hezekiah, God took the other. Use what God hath appointed, not what thou fanciest.

Secondly, This Bals••me tree drops and weeps forth its Balm to heal their wounds, that cut and mangle it, and did not our blessed Saviour do thus? What a strange requital did this great innocent and holy person make unto those from whom he suffered? They mock and revile him hanging upon the Cross, and he prayes,

and begs forgiveness for them. They shed his bloud, and he makes it a precious Medicine to heal their pu∣tred sores. They smite and pierce him to the heart with a Spear, and he erects in his heart a fountain to wash them from their sin and uncleanness. Was it ever heard, that a Physician would sweat and bleed for his surfeited Patient? Or that an offended Prince would expiate the foul Treasons of his Subjects with his own life? Surely well might the Apostle say, that God commended his love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Be astonished, O ye Angels of Heaven, who delight to pry into Gospel mysteries at this Abyss of divine love, from which Seraphims themselves cannot but detract if they should in the least conceive, that they could either fathom with their knowledge, or express in their praises. And be ye melted, O rocky hearts of sinners, with the arden∣cy and strength of such love, which is stronger than death it self. It was his love which held him upon the Cross to finish your salvation when death could not hold him in the grave. Let this love of Christ con∣strain you henceforth not to live unto your selves, but unto him that died for you.

Thirdly, This Balm which distills from this wounded tree is of such vertue and efficacy, as that it is Medici∣na omni morbia; Physick to cure all diseases, being ap∣plied inwardly or outwardly. It allayeth the Head∣ach, it restoreth thy eye-sight, helpeth the Astmah, purgeth Ulcers, cureth the poysonful Sting of Serpents, healeth all kind of wounds. Is not then this Balm in the Letter an apt Emblem of the Balm in the mystery of the bloud of Christ? Which is of an unlimited power and excellency. What is the evil that can befall any, for which this is not a certain Cure? Oh when taken in∣wardly,

as in the Sacrament of the Lords Supper, it is both Food and Physick, it enlightens the dark mind, it heals the broken in heart, it fills the hungry with good things. When sprinkled outwardly, as in Bap∣tisme, it is effectual to stop the Leprosie of Sin, to cure the venome and rage of Lusts, to mollifie the stony heart, and to make fruitful the Barren? Be then of good chear, O ye drooping and afflicted souls, let me say to you, as Paul to those in the tempest, The lives of none of you shall be lost. If you complain, No sins like yours; let me adde, There is no Salvation like Christs. If you say, you are a Systeme, a fardle of sins and lusts, hear what the Apostle saith, The blo••d of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin. No man ever miscarried for being a great sinner, but only for being an impenitent sinner. Be not in love with your sins, as Beggars are with their sores, that will not part with them, and then doubt not of your Physicians skill, or care. It is his peculiar glory, that never any Patient miscarried under his hand, though such was their condition, that they were all utterly incurable by any other.

Meditation XXX. Vpon the palpitation of the heart.

THe Pearl which in the Oyster is a disease, in the Cabinet is a Jewel of rich value, and in the Ear an Ornament of an orient beauty: and such a thing is this trembling or palpitation of the heart; in the body it is a sad malady, in the soul it is an heavenly grace:

They who are afflicted with the one, seek earnestly to the Physician for a Cure: And they who want the other, importune God to obtain it from him as a blessing when once they know the excellency and worth of it. Who is the Favourite of heaven, with whom the high and lofty one, that inhabiteth Eternity, will dwell? And to whom he will look with an eye of protection, with an eye of care and delight? Is it not to him that is of a contrite heart, and that trembleth at his word? Who is the best Saint on Earth? Is it not he who useth most diligence to work out his salvation with fear and trem∣bling? All duties are best done when accompanied with this holy trembling. Prayer and Confession of sins are never better made, than when we imita••e those Penitents in Ezra, who sate trembling in the street of the House of God. The Word is never more awfully received as the Will and Command of a Great King, than when received as the Elders of Bethlehem did Samuel, who trembled at his coming. O methinks I cannot without wonder read how Paul lived among the Corinthians, in fear and much trembling, as sensi∣ble of the weight of his Ministry, and how they again received Titus, Pauls Messenger, with the like affecti∣on, not entertaining him with costly banquets, with Court-like Salutations, but with fear and trembling, which is the highest respect that can be showen to the Doctrine of Christ. Yea, the Supper of the Lord it self, though it be a Feast of Love, in which Christ qui est totus amor est caput coenae, who is all love, is the chief and onely dish, that a Soul hath to feed upon, is best Celebrated with a Divine trembling, which may correct our joy, and keep it from degenerating into a carnal mirth. The sparkling raies of light which are reflected from the polished Diamond, are much beau∣tified

by those tremulous motions which the eye be∣holds in the Stone: And so spiritual joy receives no little addition of lustre and sweetness by the mixtures of trembling that appear in it. How great then is the folly and wickedness of those Sons of Belial, who scoff at the awfull behaviour which any exercise in the Ser∣vi••es of God? as Michal did at Davids dancing before the Ark, as if it were nothing but Pu••illanimity, which would beseem Children better than Christians, who startle often at their own groundless Imaginations: But are the Angels Cowards, which tremble in the pre∣sence of God? Is it any thing unbecoming them who continually stand in his presence to express a fear of him, as well as love unto him? How then can it be indecent for worthless Creatures to serve the great Je∣hovah with a holy awe and fear of his Majesty? O God, I am conscious unto my self how little all my duties have been intervened with this divine grace. I have prayed before thee, but not trembled, I have re∣ceived a Law from thy mouth, but I have not feared thee, the Great Law-giver, nor trembled at thy Com∣mands. I have heard often of thee by the hearing of the Ear, yet I have not abhorred my self. And there∣fore I humbly beg of thee, that thou wouldest help me to sanctifie thy name in my heart, and to make thee my fear, and my dread; that so I may neither abuse thy mercy, nor yet provoke thy Justice.

Meditation XXXI. Vpon the Shadow of a Man.

HOw absolute, as well as general is Davids asser∣tion, Surely every man walketh in a vain shew, or Image, leading an imaginary rather than a real life: Fleeing away as a shadow, rather than abiding as a sub∣stance. How shall I therefore fix a Meditation upon the shadow of a shadow? Or hint ought that may be useful to any man, which grows only from so slen∣der a principle as his own shadow? And yet if it be true which Lorinus saith, that the Art of Imagery was ex umbris nata, first learned from a due observation of those resemblances, and proportions, which the sha∣dow bears unto the body; why may not some moral Considerations be suggested unto us from the different motions, opposite variations, sudden vanishings, which every man may dayly behold in his own shadow? Are not these genuine thoughts for a man to conceive, that it is with him, and with every Christian, as it is with those who walk with their faces towards the Sun, the dark shadow is quite behind them, but when they turn from the Sun, it forthwith changeth its place and comes before them. When they travel with their faces to the Sun of Righteousness, their paths are full of light and comfort; but when they turn from him, what dark Images of death? What gastly apparitions of hell and destruction do go before them every step they tread? Yea, the farther they wander from God, how doth their te••••cu•• encrease, and their fears multiply,

which are stretched out like the shadows of the Even∣ing, untill at length they be swallowed up in the black darkness of the night? O that Apostates would think of this, who after they have set their faces towards Heaven, do again turn them toward•• Hell; who, after they have known the way of righteousness, depart from the holy Commandment delivered unto them. Can your hearts endure those dismal spectrums, that you shall continually behold? Will you not, like the Hy∣pocrites in Zion, at length cry out, Who shall dwell with devouring fire, and everlasting burnings? O that the Children of light and of the day would consider this, what great changes are made in their Estates and Comforts by their aversions from God? Have they not cause to say and wish as Job did? O that I were as in the daies when God preserved me; when his Candle shined upon my head. When his favour was like the Sun in the Ze∣nith, which casts its Beams so directly, as that it makes no shadow at all. Surely, they will find, that the shades of sin are far more dismal than the darkest nights of affliction; and that unless the light of Gods favour, which like the Sun on the Dyal of Ahaz, hath gone down many degrees, do return back again as many, they cannot, like Ezekiah, have any comfortable assurance that they shall live and not dye. O Lord therefore hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps be not moved, and let me alwaies be rather as those whose faces are towards Zion, though I go weeping, than as those who turn the back upon thee, and consider not that their steps go down to the Chambers of death.

Meditation XXXII. Vpon the Moulting of a Peacock.

SUch is the gayety of the Peacocks Plumes, that Na∣zianzen (as I find him cired) saith, that when he spreads his Starry Wheel the Peahen is provoked to lust; And the Naturalists, who describe his properties, af∣firm, that he is ambitious of Praise, and affects to shew his Beauty, when commended by spectators, in a stately tread, and free displaying of his various co∣lours against the Sun, which may cast a lustre upon them. But alass •• How short is the continuance of his Glory? how small is the distance between his de∣light to expose himself to the view of others, and his shame to be lookt upon by any? for no sooner do those specious Feathers, in which he prided himself, fall from him, but he walkes sorrowfully, and hath then (as is observed) latronis passum, the shifting pace of a Thief, who flies the light, and the eye which beholds him: He is then dejected with the sense of his loss, as one that is robbed by the Autumne of his Summers riches. Can we have now, though we should make it our study, a more clear Comment upon that Text of St. Pauls, The Fashion, or Figure of this World passeth away? or a more apt Emblem of Worldly Mens be∣haviour when so it doth, then this pensive Bird affords unto us? What is the World, with which Men are so passionatly inammoured, but a surface, an out-side, not so much a Beauty, as a Lust, as St. John stiles it? and what are all those tran••••ent Felicities of Honour, Fame, Riches, by which some are distinguished from others;

but so many Crownes of breath that have nothing of any firmness, or solid consistency. What are they but so many painted bubbles which shine and break? O methinks I never wanted words till now, to express their emptiness! how shall I say something, that may speak them less then nothing? and yet in what admi∣ration are these things had with most? How do Men affect to have the eyes of others to behold them? and the mouthes of others to applaud them? How highly do they who want any of these specious vanities thirst after them? and how hardly can any bear the loss and privation of what this way they enjoy. And yet this is onely certain, that all these things are most uncer∣tain. The Sick Mans Pulse is not more uneven in its beatings; The leaves of Trees more various in their falling; or the Feathers of Birds more facil in their moulting, than the Fancy and Pomp of all Earthly greatness is frail in its continuance. How many acci∣dents do make a change where Men do promise them∣selves the most firme stability? How soon is Jobs hedg pulled up, who said he should die in his nest, and mul∣tiply his dayes as the sand? And Davids Mountain removed, and he troubled, who pleased himself in its strength? What strange alterations doth the frownes of a Prince make in a Courtiers glory? Hamans plumes of honour and riches which were lifted up and spread to the wonder of beholders, upon the change of Aha∣suerus his Countenance flag and trail in the dirt like the Peacocks train in a storm, yea drop and fall off; leaving him exposed to the utmost of shame and igno∣miny. What stedf••stness had the rich Man in his great Possessions beyond his own conceit? he promi∣sed himself the rest of many years, and yet lived not to see another morning. Death made subitum pennar••m

depluvium, an unexpected breach upon his designed projects; and while he thinks to Impe his wings for an higher flight and mount, he falls as low as the grave. Can we then make a better, or more seasonable medi∣tation, when we find our affections carried out to the prizing and seeking of such perishing vanities, then to expostulate thus with our selves? Why is my foolish heart eaten up with cares? mine eyes robbed of sleep, mine hands wearied with uncessant labour to grasp clowdes; Shadowes, trifles, that have little of realli∣ty or worth, and less of duration: are these the things that make Angels happy? are the Robes and Crownes of S••ints made of no other Matter then that we may see in the Courts of Princes? O what a poor place were Heaven, if it had no other riches, beauty, excel∣lency, than what might be fetched out of the bowells of the Earth, or the bottom of the Seas and Rocks? Adde but Eternity to such Common Comforts, and you turn them into burthens which cannot be borne; into a satiety that produceth loathing, and not delight. It is a change onely that makes them to be grateful, it being sometimes as pleasing to want them as to have them; to lay them aside, as to put them on. Is it not then wisdom for me, for every one to make a right judgment concerning true happiness? and to know that it is one thing, and not many things; and yet it is sufficient for all persons, for all places both in Heaven and Earth; for all times both in this life and after it. It is ever the same, and maketh us ever the same, it hath no change in it self, but the communication of its growth in us, and what is now Grace, shall be Glory in Heaven. If it could decay or loose, it were not hap∣piness but misery. Lord therefore what ever others judge or think, make me like the wise Merchant wil∣ling

to sell all to buy the Rich Pearl, yea to contemne all for the one thing necessary, and to say as David did, Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon Earth, that I desire besides thee.

Meditation XXXIII. Ʋpon a Pleasure-Boat.

APrivate house is often built by the same Model which Princes use for their Pallaces, the dimen∣••••ons onely being contracted, with the observance of the same Figure. And so a Boat, or Vessel of Plea∣sure, differing in its use and design, as well as in its bulk from another Ship, is yet by the skill and Ingeny of the Artist exactly made after the mould or shape of the tallest Ship of War and Traffick; it having its Rig∣ging, Sailes, Anchors, Cables, False P••rts, and what not that please the fancy and eye of the beholder? b••t how many of these things are more for pomp and b••au∣ty then for use and necessity? when the Vessel it self is made onely to receive the carasses and blandishments of the Sea, and not to endure the hardship of a storm. It is not an A••k for necessity, as Moses his was, not an Ark for safety, as Noahs was, but a Vessel for Pleasure; and therefore a gentle breath that may swe••l the Saile••, and the curling of the Waters that may cause a little agitation; and a serene skie, which may invite the Fishes to sport, do much heighten the delight of the Passengers; but loud Windes, Waves that roar, Cloudes which mask the Heavens with darkness, carry in them so many Im••ges of de••th, and soon t••rn their

Pleasure into afrightments, and put them upon nothing more than an earnest longing and wishing for the safe∣ty of the Shore. But the resolute Marriners in their Ships they both expect and prepare to wrastle with such difficulties, they ply their Sailes, they fathom the Sea with their Line, they have their hand to the Helm, and their eye to Heaven, they let fall their Anchors, and ride amidst the Tempest till it hath spent its fury, with an undaunted Courage. I have now methinks set forth in an Allegory, the Temporary Professor, and the sound and reall Believer; the one having onely the forme, and the other the power of godliness; the one serving himself, and the other his God, in the Work of Religi∣on. In the Sunshine and Prosperity of the Church, who spreads a fairer Sail of Profession then the Tempo∣rary? who seemes more eager of following Christ Coast after Coast then he? who is more expressive of his joy and delight in his approaching to Ordinances, who more confident in his boastings, of following Christ, and dying with him, when others leave him, then he? And yet if but a Cloud of an hand breadth arise in the Firmament of the Church, who is more full of boding feares and repentings in himself than ever he went so far? If Christ be but apprehended, and led away to the High Priests Pallace, to be there buffe••ed and spit upon, who more ready to say, I know not the Man, or if it be needfull to renounce all with an Oath? Now the ground of all this is, because he makes his Religion an Art, rather than a Duty, and doth rather inform and actuate it, then is informed and guided by it. He took it up not to honour God, but to better himself by it, and therefore resolves if he cannot be a gainer, he will be no loser. But how greatly dif∣fering from such an one is the true and real Christian?

who enters into Religion as into a Covenant of Mar∣riage, which requires Performances, not retractions, and hath its Praemeditata Commoda, & incommoda, fore-thought of Burdens, a•• well as Delights. He looked upon the Church of Christ, not as a Pleasure Boat, which is onely for pastime, but as a Ship, that must ex∣pect stormes, though not fear a wrack because Christ is in it. And therefore he is resolved with fortitude to withstand the Corruptions of the Times, to out-face the sins and scornes of Men, to be valiant for a Truth trampled upon, and not to be ashamed of a Persecuted Profession, and to bear up against the threats and ma∣lice of the most Potent Enemies with an unbended constancy. Did not Peter and John thus against a Sy∣node of Pharisees? Paul against the Contradiction of the Jewes? Athanasius against the Power of Constanti∣us, and the countenanced Arians? And Chrysostom against the pride and rage of Eudoxia? He indeed is not worthy of Christ who is allured onely to come to him upon expectations of Pleasure, nor he that is kept from him for the fear of insuing dangers. Do thou then, O blessed Saviour, make my heart upright in my coming unto thee, and fix my confidence so in thee, that Seas of troubles may never separate me in the least from thee; and if at any time, like thy timerous Dis∣ciples, I cry out, Lord save me I perish: do thou calme my feares, though not the storm, that so I may possess my soule in patience, and believe, that thou wilt either be my Pilot, to bring me safe to sho••r, or my Plank to save me from ruine and perishing.

Meditation XXXIV. Ʋpon the putting out of a Candle.

LIght and darkness are in Scripture the two most usual expressions by which happiness and misery are set forth unto us. Hell and Heaven which will one day divide the whole World between them, and become the sole Mansions of endless woe, and blessedness, are described, the one to be a place of outward darkness, and the other an Inheritance in light. But it is obser∣vable also, that as the happiness of worldly Men, and Believers is wholly differing; so the light to which the one and the other is resembled, is greatly discrepant. The happiness of the wicked worldling is compared unto a Candle, which is a feeble and dim light, and con∣sumes it self by burning, or is put out by every small puff of winde; but the prosperity and happiness of the righteous is not lucerna in domo, as a Candle in an house; but sol in Coelo, as the Sun in the Heaven, which though it may be clouded, or eclipsed, ye•• can never be extin∣guished, or interrupted in its course, but that it will shine mo••e and more unto the perfect day, till it come to the ful••ess of Bliss and Glory in Heaven. May we not then rather bemoan, than envy the best condition∣ed of Worldly Men, who comes out of a dark womb into a dark world, and hath no healing beames of the Sun of Rig••hteousness arising upon him to enlighten his pathes, or ••o direct his steps. What if he have some few ••••rictur••s of light, which the Creatures, that are no better than a rush Candle do seem to refresh him with,

and in the confidence of which he walkes for a time; yet alass! how suddenly do the damps of asfliction make such a light to burne blew, and to expire, and to leave him as lost in the pitchy shades of anguish and despaire? How do the terrors of darkness multi∣ply upon him every moment all those evills that a rest∣less fancy can suggest? He sees nothing, and yet he speaks of gastly shapes that stand before him: He can∣not tell who hurts him, and yet he complaines of the stinging of Serpents, of the torments of fiery flames, of the wracking of his limbes. If he have Cordialls put into his mouth, he spits them out again, as if they were the gall of Aspes, or if he have food ministred unto him he wholly rejects it, as that which will help to lengthen out a miserable life; and yet die he dares not least worse things befall him. If death approach, he then cries out, as Crisorius in Gregory, Inducias vel usque ad ma••e, inducias vel usque ad ma••e; a truce, a re∣spit Lord untill the Morning. So great are his straits, as that he knowes not what to chuse, or what to fly. O that I could then affect some fond worldlings with the vanity and fickleness of their condition, who have nothing to secure them from an endless night of dark∣ness, but the wan and pale light of a few earthly com∣forts, which are ofttimes far shorter than their lives, but never c••n be one moment longer. Have you no wisdom to consider, that your Life is but a span, and that all your delights are not so much? Have you ne∣ver read of a state of Blessedness, in which it is said, that there shall be no night, and they need no Candle, neither light of the Sun, for the Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign for ever and ever? or are you so regardless of the future, as th••t you will resolvedly haz∣zard what ever can fall out, for the present satisfaction

of some inordinate desires? Do you not fear the threat∣ning of him who hath said, The Candle of the wicked shall be put out? O then while it is called to day make Davids prayer, from your heart, say, Lord lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us, thou shalt put gladness in my heart more than in the time my Corn and Wine in∣creased.

Meditation XXXV. Vpon a Prison.

SEneca hath this saying, Precogitati mali mollis ictus, that the stroke of a fore-thought evil is more gentle and soft than if it were wholly unexpected; which suits well with Saint Peters counsel to the scattered Be∣lievers, not to think of the fiery trial, as if some strange and new thing had hapned unto them. A Wise Suffe∣rer therefore must do as a wise builder, sit down first and count his cost, left afterwards he expose himself to shame and scorn. He must first view a Prison in his mind before heenter into it with his body, and through∣ly weigh what it is he must forgo, and what he must undergo, or else he will soon, like Issachar, couch un∣der his burden, and faint in the day of adversity, his strength being small. For the change which a Prison makes is the greatest that can befall any, next to the Grave, and is but a little short of it, if not equal un∣to it. Who can set down the several sad evils which attend it in distinct particulars? And who can sum them up into a total, that will not amount unto a death? Is not Liberty, which every being naturally af∣fects,

turned into Bondage? Is not the Society of friends, which is the sauce, if not the food, of life, changed into Solitude? Is not Light, whose approaches were anciently saluted with welcome light, industriously shut out, to make both Bonds and Solitude the more irk∣some? Is not every Sense offended with objects that are displeasing unto them? What doth the Eye behold but the face of a grim Jayler? What doth the Touch feel unless it be hard Fetters and cold walls? What is the Smell affected with, unless it be a loathsome stench? What doth the Ear hear, but the ratling of Chains, or the groans of some who are breathing out their last? And what is the food that is tasted, unless it be the bread of adversity, and the water of asfliction? And is it not then wonderful, that such a condition as this, which is as the very valley and shadow of death, should ever be passed thorough without any distracting fears, without heart breaking sorrows, yea, with great re∣joycings in such tribulations? It is true, that some there be who, like sullen Hawks, live upon the frets, and bear many of these things out of the stoutness of their stomack and their natural courage. But alas! this is not to suffer as a Christian, who doth not suffer out of obstinacy, but out of Conscience; who is not suppor∣ted by his own inherent strength, but by the power of God, which puts forth its self in such glorious effects oft times, as that it makes a greater change in the Pri∣son for the better, than ever the vilest Prison can make in the Prisoner for the worse. Is it not the presence of the King that makes the Court, let the House be never so mean where he resides? What then can that place be less than a Pallace where the Presence of God dwells in a special manner? He that shall read in the Book of the Revelations of a City or place that had no

Temple in it, nor had no Sun or Moon to shine in it, and then break off, would sooner conjecture that he was beginning the description of some forlorn place under the Northern Pole, than of the heavenly Jerusalem: But when he shall understand that God and the Lamb are the Temple of it, and the glory of God and the Lamb are the Eternal Light shining in it, he will then say, as an awaked Jacob, Surely this is none other but the house of God, and the place where himself dwelleth. Such like thoughts must that man have of a Prison who knows no more of it, than what it is in appearance, a place of bondage, solitude, darkness, and sore wants; but he who hath in this condition once experienced the presence of God in it, how differently will he speak of it? Have not many of the Saints, when shut up in a Dungeon, dated their Letters to their Friends from their Pallace, from their delectable Orchard, from their delicious Paradise? Have they not gloried in their bonds, as being Gods Freemen, though mans Priso∣ners? Have they not in their solitude been ravished with the sweetness of that Communion they have had with God, who alone hath been better than a thousand Friends? Have they not been filled with hidden Manna in their souls, when their bodies have been pinched with the sharpness of Famine? Have they not in the midst of their Conflicts cried out, If it be thus sweet to suffer for Christ, how full of Joy unspeakable will it be to reign with him? May I not then say to this timorous Christian, as God did once to Israel, Fear not to go down into Egypt, For I will go down with thee into Egypt, and I will surely bring thee up again. Fear not to go into a Prison, in which God will be with you, and out of which he will deliver you with joy and triumph. It matters not what your pressures be if God put under

his Everlasting Arms, or who your Enemies be if he be your Friend; or what your sorrows be, if he be your Comforter. And this I may adde, that commonly in the greatest straits, he sheweth the greatest love, as waters run strongest in the narrowest passages. As the sufferings of Christ (saith Paul) abound in us, so our Consolation aboundeth by Christ. O therefore say as David did, Though I walk through the valley of the sha∣dow of death I will fear none evil; for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Meditation XXXVI. Vpon the motion of the Sun on the Dyall.

IT was the saying of one, who was none of the least of the Philosophers, to him that asked him what he was born for? That it was to contemplate the Sun: But though it be not the end of mans breath, yet it may well be the object of his thoughts, in regard both of its beauty and motion. Holy David takes notice of them both in the same Psalm, in which he compared the Sun for its Lustre to a Bridegroom coming out of his Cham∣ber cloathed in such shining Array, as may draw the eyes of Spectators towards him: And for its swiftness to a strong Champion, who runs his prescribed course, both speedily and unweariedly. Tully, in his Acade∣micall Questions, saith, Tanta incitatione fertur ut ejus celeritas quanta sit ne cogitari quidem posset. It is whir∣led about with that vehemency that the greatness of the Suns speed cannot easily be imagined. Is it not then a Riddle, that at the same time when it travels thousands

of miles in the Heavens it should make so slow a moti∣on and progress on the Dyall, as not to move above the breadth of an inch or two? To the quickest eye its mo∣tion is imperceptible, and it so moves, as we can only say it hath moved, not that it doth. Now from whence comes this inequality, but from the vast disproportion between the Heavens and the Earth, the one being but as a Center or small prick to an immense Circumfe∣rence. O how happy and regular also would the lives and actions of men be if after the same manner they were moved to heavenly and earthly objects? To the one with a swiftness like to that of the Sun in the Fir∣mament: To the other with an insensibleness, like to that of the Sun upon the Dyall. Surely such a dispro∣portion doth the differing worth and excellency be∣tween the one and the other justly challenge in our pursuit of them. Is it not meet that he who casts a single glance of his eye to the Creature, should bestow a thousand looks on his Saviour? And when he creeps to one as a Snail, to fly to the other as the Eagle to the Carkass? He alone moves to God as much as he ought, who moves to him as much as he can, and strives to repair the imperfection of that motion, with a real dis∣like and regret of the slowness of his own heart to the best of goods. But alass, if the rule by which men walk must be thus bounded, or dilated according to the ob∣ject to which they move, where shall we find that person that thus proportions the out-goings of his soul in his care, desires, or industry? If the standard and measure of goodness should be taken, from the unwea∣riedness of mens travels, from the strength of their affections, or from the fixed bent of their resolutions to obtain what they design to themselves as their end: Who must not then put the Crown of blessedness upon

the he••d of the Creature which ought to be set at the foot of the Creator? Who must not then conclude, that it is better building Tabernacles here, than seek∣ing a Country which is above? Do not men contract their hearts to the things of Heaven, and dilate them to what is below? Do they not run and pant, to the very breathing out of their souls, after perishing vani∣ties, when they cannot be drawn to set one foot to∣wards spiritual and divine Excellencies? Do they not take the Wings of the Morning, and fly to the utmost end of the Earth in their musings and thoughts to find out riches that will not profit in the day of wrath? when their Essaies to Heaven are as weak as the Grashoppers, who give only a small slirt upwards and then falls down to the Earth again. O that I could with plenty of tears bemoan that monstrous Ataxie and perverseness which sin hath wrought in the most noble parts of man. Was not that agility of mind given unto him by God, that he might have his Conversation in Heaven, though his abode was on Earth? And that he might enter into the holy of holies, not like the High Priest, once in a year, but in every prayer and duty, like a winged Angel, be∣hold the face of God, and look into those things that are within the Veil? But now alas! he can only, like that lapsed Angel, compass the earth to and fro in his thoughts, and descend as low as hell in his lusts, but cannot raise himself above the world to the performance of the least good. I feel, O my God, continually the sad change which sin hath made in me, not so much destroying my Faculties, as perverting them; I have not lost the use of them, but the rectitude of them. I am no more weary of sinning, than a swift stream of running; the same weight of sin that hinders me from running the race which is set before me, hurries me to

evil, and makes me, through the impulsions of Satan, to gather strength by an accessory impression. In the births of sin I am, like the Hebrew women, lively and quick of delivery; but in the bringing forth of what∣ever is good, like a slow Egyptian that needs the aide of a Midwife. l therefore beg of thee holy Lord to heal my distempers by thy grace, and to renew me in the spirit of my mind that I may run the way of thy Com∣mandments when thou hast enlarged my heart.

Meditation XXXVII. Vpon a Sun-Dyal and a Clock.

THese two Artificial measures of time give one and the same account of its motions, but in a very differing, if not contrary, manner. The Clock doth it by a motion of its own; but the Sun-Dyall, while it self is fixed, by an extrinsick motion of the Sun upon those Lines drawn upon it effects the same thing. And this occasioned me to think in what a differing way the same services and duties of Religion are done by those that profess it. Some, like Clocks, have a Spring of motions in themselves, and the weight that quickens and actuates it is love: They pray, confer, exercise holiness in their Conversation in a progressive manner, Salvation being nearer to them than when they first believed. Others again are like Sun-Dyals, that are as useless posts in a gloomy day, and are destitute of all principles of motion. The Sun moveth upon them, but they stand still. The Spirit comes upon them, as it did on Saul, but themselves are not in the least mo∣ved

by those duties that others may think they profit by. There is a light and shine which passeth upon their gifts and abilities that may render them useful as well as visible unto others, but it effecteth no alterati∣on in their hearts to the bettering of themselves. What divine Visions and Prophesies did Balaam both see and utter concerning Israel? And how remarkable is the Preface which he sets before them? The man whose eyes are open hath said, yet his heart is fixed to his lust of Co∣vetousness, and he is so far from taking the least step to∣wards their Tents, which with admiration he beholds to be goodly, as that he gives Balack counsel how to destroy them. Let not then any rest in a bare illumina∣tion or transient work of the Spirit upon them, as if that such things would be sufficient evidences of the goodness of their con••ition. Light may make a good head, but it is heat and motion that must make a good heart, without which all profession of Religion is but an unsavoury Carkass. Be wise therefore O Christians, and build not the foundation of your eternal happiness upon such uncertain principles. May not the Spirit assist where it never inhabits? May it not move upon him, whom it never quickens? Were not many workers of iniquity, who were workers of miracles? Were not many famous for their Prophesies, who were infamous for their Profaneness? Are not such things made by Christ, the plea of many in the last day for their ad∣mittance into heaven, whom he will not know? Why then should any be so foolish to make that a Plea to the Judge which he knows beforehand will be rejected? The best way to discern our condition, is not to argue the goodness of it from the light which the Spirit darts in upon us, but by the motions which it produceth in us. As many as are the Sons of God are led by the

Spirit of God, in a constant way of progression, from grace to grace, from vertue to vertue. Such light, as it is sudden in its Eruptions, so it is also in its Interrup∣tions; the one oft times are as speedy and momentary as the other. Look therefore to the attractions of the Spirit by which you are moved, & drawn to walk in ho∣ly waies, rather than to such motions of the Spirit, which pass only upon you, but do not beget any motion or stirring in you.

Meditation XXXVIII. Ʋpon the payment of a Pepper-corn.

LOgicians have a Maxime, that, Relationes sunt mi∣nimae entitatis & maximae efficaciae, Relations are of the smallest Entity, and of the greatest efficacy: The truth of which may appear in the payment of a single Pepper-corn, that Freeholders pay to their Landlord, they do it not with any hope or intent to enrich him; but to acknowledge that they hold all from him. To effect the one it is of too mean a value, yet it preserves the Lords right as fully as a greater Rent, and aggra∣vates the Tenants folly to withhold, more than if the demands had been higher. To such an one may be justly said, what Naamans Servant spake unto him, If the Prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it? How much rather then, when he saith to thee, wash and be clean? If the condition which meer bounty happily hath made so easie, had been by the same hand and power restrained to a more costly and ••mple homage, ought it not to have been performed?

How much more when nothing is required, but what may witness a dependency and not burden it? How inexcusable then must the ingrati••ude of those men be, who receiving all their blessings from God, withhold that Pepper-corn of praise and honour from him, which is the only thing that they can pay, or that he expects? To c••st the least Mite into his Treasury, which may adde to its riches, is beyond the Line of men or An∣gels, for if it could admit an increase, the abundance of it were not infinite: but to adore its fulness, and to acknowledge that from it they derive theirs, is the duty of all that partake of it. This is the only homage that those Stars of the Morning, and sons of God, who behold his face, do give in heaven, and this is it which the Children of men should give on Earth. But alas! from how few are those sacred dues tendred to God, though all be his debtors? Doth not the rich man, when wealth floweth in upon him like a river, forget that the Lord only giveth him power to get riches? And sacrifice unto his Net, and burn Incense unto his Drag? Is it not the sin that God chargeth all Israel with, that they rejoyce in a thing of nought, and say have we not taken horns to us by our own strength? Yea, doth he not ex∣presly say, thar he will nor give his glory unto another? Shall any man then take it unto himself? And yet what stoln bread is so sweet to any taste as the secret nim∣mings & purloynings of Gods glory are unto the pallate: of most? If any design be effected, they think that their wisdom hath brought it about; if any difficulties be removed, they ascribe it to their industry; if success and victory do build upon their Sword, it is their own arm, and right hand that hath obtained it. O how great is that pride and unthankfulness which reigns in the hearts of men, who affect to rob God, rather than to

honour him, and to deny him to be the Author of what they possess, than to acknowledge their Tenure that they hold all in Capite. Stealing from men may be acquitted again with single, or double, with fourfold, or sevenfold restitution. But the filching from Gods glory can never be answered; for who can give any thing to him which he hath not received? Others may steal of necessity, to satisfie their hunger; but such violate out of pride and wantonness the Exchequer of heaven, and shall never escape undetected, or unpunished. Consi∣der therefore this all ye who are ready to kiss your own hands for every blessing that comes upon you, to what danger you expose your selves, while ye rob God, whose name is Jealous, who will vindicate the glory of his neglected goodness in the severe triumphs of his im∣partial Justice. It is Bernards Expression, Uti datis, ut innatis est maxima superbia, to use Gods gifts as things inbread in us is the highest arrogancy, and what less can it merit, than the very condemnation of the De∣vil? Whose first sin (as some Divines conceive) was an affectation of independant happiness, without any respect or habitude unto God. I cannot a little won∣der, that the blackness of his sin, and the dreadfulness of his Fall, should not make all to fear the least sha∣dow and semblance of such a crime in themselves as must bring upon them the like ruine. Look upon him ye proud ones, and tremble, who are abettors of Na∣ture against Grace, and resolve the salvation of man ultimately into the freedom of his Will, rather than into the efficacy of Gods Grace; who in the work of Conversion make the Grace of God to have only the work of a Midwife, to help the Child into the world, but not to be the Parent and sole Author of it. Is not this to cross the great design of the Gospel, which is to

exalt the honour of God and Christ? that he that glori∣eth might glory in the Lord. And is not every tittle of the Gospel as dear to God, as every little of the Law? Can then any diminish ought from it and be guiltless? Oh fear then to take the least due from God, who hath threatned to take his part out of the Book of Life, and out of the holy City, and from the things which are written in the Book of God. Non est devotion is dedisse prope totum, sed fraudis retinuisse vel minimum, It is not devotion, saith Prosper rightly against his Collator, to acknowledge almost all from God, but accursed theft to ascribe though but a very little to our selves. Lord therefore, whatever others do, keep me humble, that as I receive all from thee, so I may render that tribute of praise which thou expectest from me both chear∣fully, and faithfully; and though it can adde nothing to thy perfection, no more than my beholding and ad∣miring the Suns light can encrease it, yet let me say, as holy David did, Not unto us O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name be the glory for thy mercy and for thy truths sake.

Meditation XXXIX. Vpon the Bucket and the Wheel.

THe saying of Democritus, which he spake concern∣ing Philosophical truth, that it did latitare in jute••, hide it self, and take up its abode in a dark and deep Well, may much more be affirmed of Theological truth when the whole Doctrine of the Gospel is called the Mystery of Christ, and the great Mystery of Godliness,

that there should be three distinct Persons in one Essence, and two distinct Natures in one Person. That Virgi∣••ity should conceive, Eternity be born; Immortality dye, and Mortality rise from death to life. Are not these, and many more of the like intricacy, unpara∣lelled mysteries? May we not then justly say, as the Samarita•• woman did to our Saviour when he asked water of her, Puteus profundus est, the Well is deep, and who can descend into it, or fathom it? And yet such is the pride and arrogancy of many men, as that, not contenting themselves with the simplicity of believing, many make Reason the sole standard whereby to mea∣sure both the Principles and Conclusions of Faith, for which it is as unapt as the weak Eye of a Bat to behold the Sun when it shineth in its full strength; or the Bill of a small Bird to receive into it the Ocean. These high mysteries are not to be scanned, but to be believed; the knowledge and certainty of which doth not arise from the evidence of reason, but from the revelation made of them in holy Scriptures; the mouth of God, who is truth it self, and cannot lye, hath spoken them, and therefore it cannot be otherwise. But must then reason be wholly shut out as a useless thing in the Christian Religion, or must it be confined to the agenda matters of duty and morality, in which it cannot be denied to be both of necessary and constant use? Surely even the Credenda, also the Doctrines and points which are properly of Faith, do not refuse the sober use of Rea∣son, so it be imployed as an Handmaid, and not as a Mistress. I have therefore thought that Faith is as the Bucket, which can best descend this deep Well of my∣stery, and that Reason is as the Wheel, which stands over the mou••h of it, and keeps alwaies its certain and fixed distance: But yet by its motion is instrumental

both to let down the bucket, and also to draw it up again. Faith discovers the deep things of God, and then reason teacheth us to submit our selves and it to the obedience of Faith, that so it is. But it never be∣comes more foolish and dangerous then when it busies its self in inquiries, and makes Nicodemus his question, How can these things be? then it turnes giddy, and lo∣seth its self in distracted rounds and motions. Alass •• how unlike would the wayes and Counsels of God be unto himself, if they were no other but such as the Wisest of Men could trace out? How little glory would Faith also give to God, if it did not put forth its strength in asserting his Power to effect greater things then can fall within the compass of Natural disquisition? Yea, how should the Gospel, in its Institutions, Doctrines, and Worship, be acquitted of the Jewes stumbling at it, as dishonourable to their Law; and the Gentiles de∣riding of it, as absurd, in their Philosophy, if that Rea∣son must be the measure of its Mysteries? Nature is so far from finding out what the Gospel discovers, as that it cannot y••eld un••o it, when it is revealed, without a spirit of Faith to assist i••. Be wise therefore, O Chri∣stians, and set bounds to your Reason, beyond which it may not pass, as Moses did to the Israelites, whilest Faith descendeth into the deeps of Gospel Mysteries, which Angells with strerched out necks have more de∣sire to pry into, then ability perfectly to understand. Now the boundary of Reason is, Conf••rre & inferre; to confer one Scripture with another; and to infer Con∣clusions, and to deduce Instructions thence, by a clear L••gi••il Discourse. But if it go further to g••z••, it may justly fear to be smit••en of God: and like a Pyoneer, or bold Miner, which digs in too far for his rich Veine of Ore, ••eet with a damp which choakes him. My Prayer

therefore shall be that of the Apostles to Christ, Adde nobis fidem: Lord increase our faith. For if my faith do not exceed, my reason, though advanced to as high a pitch as ever Solomon had, yet might I well be number∣ed among those, whom St. Peter saith are blinde, and cannot see afar off.

Meditation XL. Vpon Banishment.

EXile is a Change of place that brings no evil with it, but in opinion; a Complaint, and afflicti∣on wholly imaginary, is the description some have made of it. But it seemes to me to be rather a Stoicks vaunt, than a Christians just estimate, of the evils of that condition. What trial else would it have been of Abrahams Faith, to leave his Country, Kindred, and Fathers House, and to go to a Land God would shew him? or why did God injoyn Israel to pitty Strangers; be∣cause themselves had been Strangers in the Land of Aegypt. Why have Legislators deemed it as a punish∣ment for grand Crimes, and next to Capital? or why have many looked upon it as worse than death, chusing rather the lot of the Goat that was to be Sacrificed, then the lot of the Scape Goat, which was to be sent into the Wilderness? is it not because (as Philo saith) death is the full end of all evils? but Banishment the beginning of many new ones? Want, Scorn, Oppres∣sions, Unjust Jealousies, are the daily hard Measures that Exiles must expect to meet with; he must thank him who demands his Coat, that he asketh not his

Life; and he must oft times redeem his Life, with that little Money which he hath, that should buy him Bread to preserve it. He must be armed with nothing but patience, least he be apprehended as one that hath in design the death of some other. And yet how ma∣ny Arguments of comfort can my thoughts suggest to such Christians, who for the Truths sake either dread this Cross, or feel it. They break forth so on the right hand, and on the left, as that methinks I may say, Sing O ye Banished, cry aloud, for more are the comforts of the desolate, than the comforts of those that sit un∣der the shadow of their own roof. I will not tell you that you have the same Sun and Moon to shine up∣on you that Kings have; that the Stars appear unto you in the same greatness and beauty which they do to others. That you enjoy the same common Ele∣ments that all do. These, and such like topicks are to be plentifully found among the Moralists. But all their Precepts and Sentences are like Arrowes that fall short of the Mark. They could never reach that solid con∣tentment they levelled at. Hear then ye dejected Christians what your comforts are, whose Cr••sses are no more than others, and whose supports are farr great∣er. Are you Banished from your Native Country? what other condition do you undergo then Abraham did, the Father of the Faithfull, and the Friend of God, and will you murmur if God deal with you no worse then with his Favorite? if you are out of your own Land, do you not still tread upon your Fathers ground? is not the Earth the Lords, and the sullness of it? did never any thrive in a strange Soyle, and like transplant∣ed Trees gain by the Change? have ye forgot what God did for Joseph in Egypt? or for Daniel and his As∣sociates in their Captivity? who like Stars when they

set in one Hemisphere, did rise gloriously in another? But if still you be impatient, and in dislike with your Estate, let me ask you if the best of a wicked Mans condition be not worse? Is it not better to hunger and thirst for righteousness sake, then to fare deliciously every day with the rich Glut••on in the Gospel? Is it not more eligible to be an Israelite in the Wilderness, then to be a Cour••ier in Egypt? can you not speak bet∣ter of your Miseries then wicked Men can do of their Mercies? you may say, blessed Hunger, blessed Pover∣ty, blessed Mourning, blessed Persecutions and Revilings; Christ himself having blessed your Afflictions, and also cursed their enjoyments: He hath entailed an eternal woe upon all those things wherein they place their wel∣fare; their Riches, their Fullness, their Mirth, their Applause, and Credit with all Men: and he hath pro∣mised to them that endure temptations a Crown of Life when they are tried. Be not therefore dismayed O ye of little Faith, who have every bitter thing at pre∣sent sweetned with Promises, and within a little while shall have all the hardships of a desart, turned into the Plenty of an Heavenly Canaan. And yet methinks some there be, who are still unsatisfied, and ask if it be nothing to part with dear Relations, and society of Friends? and to be cast upon strange Faces, and Lan∣guages, that they understand not? to be at once in great measure both deaf and dumb, not hearing what others say to them, and being also unable to speak the least word to others. That these are sore evils I shall not make it any part of my task to deny; But yet how many are there who have exposed themselves to all these evils, and have undergone them voluntarily. which you suffer out of constraint? have not some for curiosity sake, and a thirst of ••nowledg travelled through

vast and dangerous Wildernesses, and borne, with much patience, the excess of heat and cold? Have not others out of a cove••ous desire of gain parted with Friends and Country for many yeares? may I not then send the faint-hearted Christian to learn of the resolute Worldling, as Solomon doth the Sluggard to the Pismire; shall he set an higher estimate upon Earthly Treasures then you upon Heavenly? shall he out-face dangers that you shrink at? shall he quit Parents and Children that are pieces of himself, and imbrace solli••ude in for∣raign Regions, and shall you reckon your self as free among the dead while you do the same thing? O what advantages have you above him, both to do and suffer? In your sollitude you may say as Christ did in his, Yet am I not alone, because the Father is with me. In your Sorrowes you may glory as Paul did, This is our rejoy∣cing, the testimony of our Conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity we have had our Conversation in the World. ln the loss and spoil of your Estates, you may pray, as Paulinus did, when the Gothes ransacked Nola: Domi∣ne, ne excrucier propter auram & argentum; ubi enim omnia mea sunt tu scis: Lord, let not the loss of these things disquiet me: for thou knowest where I have said up all my treasures. In your Banishment you may com∣fort your self with the common lot of all believers, who are no other then Pilgrims, and Strangers, while they are at home in the Body, and absent from the Lord? I shall add no more but an excellent saying of Basil, Cui adhuc patria solùm dulcis est, nimis delicatus est, cui omnis terr a patria for••is est, cui omnis terra exili∣um sanctus est, He to whom his Native Countrey is onely sweet, is too delicate: he to whom every Land is his Countrey, is valiant; and he to whom als Earth is a Banishment, is truely holy.

Meditation XLI. Ʋpon the Breast and the sucking-Bot∣tle.

THe Word of God, by which Men are turned from darkness unto light, is sometimes compared unto Seed, and sometimes unto Milk; and the Ministers of it, sometimes unto Fathers, and sometimes unto Nur∣ses: This double relation points forth their double Du∣ty, which is not onely as spiritual-Fathers to beget Men unto Christ; but as nursing Mothers, to give them the full Breasts of the sincere Milk of the Word, that they may grow thereby, and of new-borne Babes may become strong in the Faith, and filled with all know∣ledge and wisdome in the things of God. But how is this done? is it by Reading onely the Scriptures, with∣out giving the Sense, though that be a Publick Ordi∣nance of God, and highly to be honoured of all, or by a diligent and well digested Preaching of them, in which the Truths delivered are sucked in as Milk from the Breast that partakes of the warmth and spirits of the Nurse? Some Ministers who have consulted more for their own Ease then their Peoples Profit, have en∣deavoured to maintain Reading to be Preaching, as if that were a sufficient discharge of their Duty. But what then will become of the Apostles question? Who is sufficient for these things? it should then be rather who is not sufficient? or of what use will be his Coun∣sel, To Preach in season, and out of season, and to di∣vide

the Word of God aright, as a workman that needeth not be ashamed. True it is, that if Preaching be taken largely, sor any Declaration, or Publishing of the Word of God, it cannot be denyed to be Preaching; but if it be taken strictly for Preaching, by way of Office, and for Ministerial Publishing of the Gospel, then it is quite another thing. Was there not a wide difference between the Woman of Samaria her making known of Christ, and the Apostles Preaching of him; or between Andrewes calling of his brother Peter before he was pu•• into his Apostolical Office, and his Preaching of Christ when Commissionated by him? and what less diffe∣rence is there between a Naked Reading of the Scri∣pture, or some other set Discourses, and the Powerfull Preaching of the Word? But if Trial and Experience could better Evince than Argument, those who justifie the Opinion by their Practise; I could wish that such might bring forth their Children, who have lived whol∣ly upon the singular meanes of Reading, and let their Countenance be looked upon, and the Countenance of those who have had the Word duly Preached unto them, and then let others Judge whether their Countenance appear as fair and fat as their Brethrens. O how quick∣ly would it be discerned which they are, which have received their nourishment from the Breast, and which from the Bottle? it would soon be judged that the weak are the Flock of Laban, and the strong the Flock of Jacob, which God hath by far blessed above the other. Think then upon it, O ye sloathfull ones, to whose care God hath commited the wellfare of many Soules, ho•• you will answer your neglect to God •• If the Chief Officer was afraid that his withholding the Kings ap∣pointed Meat from Daniel and his Companions, might indanger his head to his Lord, should he see their Faces

worse liking than the Children of their sort; what cause will ye have to fear the displeasure of Christ when he sh••ll behold th•• wan and pale lookes of those for whom he died, by your de••eining the Breast from them, who should have been nourished up in the words of Faith, and good Doctrine? Nor shall ye, O Christians, who slight Ordinances, and turn your back upon the Breasts of Consolation, which are held forth unto you, escape any better then the Ministers who de∣ny them to their People: If it be a sin to do the one, it is no less, if not greater, in you, to do the other. They sin against the Soules of others, and you sin against your own Soules: And yet how great are the numbers upon whom the guilt of this Crime may be Charged? Some think that they are past their Childhood, and therefore Wean themselves; they know as much as their Teachers can tell them, and to what end then should they still give them their Attendance; to hanker after the Breast is for Babes, not for grown Persons? But are not they who thus speak puffed up, and know nothing as they ought? Is not this whole life a state of Infancy in respect of persection? doth not the Apo∣stle say, that we see but darkly, and know but in part. Why then should the old Mnasons be more ashamed of these Breasts, then the young Timothies? David Pro∣fessed himself as a weaned Child from the World, but never from the Word. Others please themselves, that though they go not to Hear, yet they Read good Books, and better Sermons at home, than their Ministers can make; and so take themselves not to be less zealous, but onely more discreet than their Brethren who do not the like. And yet who can excuse such Persons from the guilt both of folly and wickedness? Is it not solly to refuse the warm breast, and to suck the Milk

from the bottle, when it is dispirited, and hath lost both its warmth and lively taste? and what less difference is there between a Sermon in the Pulpit, and in the Pr••ss? Is it not also wickedness to offer Sacriledge for Sacri∣fice, and to rob God of one Duty, to pay him another; to withhold the greater, and to seem Conscientious in the less? Are they not in thus doing fures de se, thieves to their own Soules, depriving themselves of the pro∣fit of both, while they are willfull neglecters of each. Be wise therefore, O Christians, in keeping up an high esteem of the Word Preached, and be alwayes as Babes for hunger and desire after it; though not for knowledg and understanding in it. And remember that there is no way so dangerous to lessen your desires, as to keep your selves fasting from it. For the Word of God still creates new appetites, as it satisfies the old; and enlargeth the capacities of the Soul, as it fills it. Use good Books as Apothecaries do their Suc∣cedanea, one simple to supply the want of another; when the Preacher cannot be had then make use of them; but let it rather be to stay the stomach in the absence of an Ordinance, then to satisfie it. And when you enjoy both, say as Aristotle sometimes did of the Rhodian and Lesbian Wine, when he had tasted of both; that the Rhodian was good too, but the Lesbian was the pleasanter. Holy Books are good, and relish well, but the Word Preached is more sweet; the one is as the Wine the Bridegroom provided at the Marriage Feast, and the other as that which Christ made, which was easily discerned by the Governour, who knew not whence it was, to be by far the better.

Meditation XLII. Vpon Mixtures.

THe wise God hath so tempered the whole Estate of Man in this life, as that it consisteth altogether of Mixtures; There is no sweet without sower, nor sower without sweetness. All simples, in any kinde, would prove dangerous, and be as uncorrected drugs, which administered unto the Patient would not recover him, but destroy him. Constant Sorrow without any Joy would swallow us up; and simple Joy without any Grief would puff us up, both extreames would agree alike in our ruine: he being in as dangerous a case who is swolne with Pride, as he who is overwhelmed with Sorrow. This Mixture then, though it seem penall and prejudicial to our comfort, is, yet Medicinall, and is by God, as a wise Physician, ordered as a Diet most sutable to our Condition; and if we did but look into the grounds of it, we shall find cause to acknowledge Gods wise Providence, and to frame our hearts to a submission of his will, without murmuring at what he doth. For have we not two Natures in us, the Spirit and Flesh, the New, and Old Man? have we not twins in our Womb, our Counter-lustings, and our Counter∣willings? Are we not as Plants that are seated be∣tween the two different Soiles of Earth and Heaven? Is there not then a necessity of a mixed Diet, that is made up of two contraries? The Physician is not less loyal to his Prince if he give to him an unpleasing Vo∣mit, and to a poor Man a cheering Cordiall, because his

Applications are not according to the dignity of the Person, but to the quality of the Disease: neither is God the less kind when he puts into our hand the bit∣ter Cup of asfliction to drink of, then when he makes us to caste of the Flaggons of his sweetest wine. Paul his Thorn in the Flesh, what ever the meaning of it be, was usefull to keep down that tumor of pride, which the abundance of Revelations might have exposed him unto; and so joyned together they were like the rod and the Honey which enlightned Jonathans eyes: when he had tasted the sweetness of the one, God would have him feel the smart of the other. At the same time also when God blessed Jacob, he Crippled him, that he might not think above what was meet of his own strength, or ascribe his prevailing to the vehe∣mency of his Wr••stling, rather then to Gods gracious condescention. Yea who is it that hath not experien∣ced such Mixtures to be the constant Methods which he useth towards his dearest Children? what are the lives of the best Christians but as a Rainbow, which consists half of the moisture of a Cloud, and half of the light and beames of the Sun? Weeping (saith David) may endure for a Night, but Joy cometh in the Morning. And what other thing doth the Apostle speak of himself, when he gives the Corinthians an account of his Condi∣tion? As dying, and behold we live: as chastened, and not killed: as sorrowfull, and yet alwayes rejoycing: as poore, yet making many rich: as having nothing, but yet possessing all things. Blessed then is he who doth with∣out repining yield himself to the dispose of Divine Providence, rather then accuse it, and looks not so much to what at present is gratefull to the sense, as to what for the future will be profitable to the whole. For in these Mixtures, Magna latent beneficia 〈◊〉〈◊〉 non fulge∣ant,

great advantages do lye hid, though not shine forth. Hereby we are put upon the exercise of all those Graces which are accommodated to our imperfect state here below, whose acts shall not be compleated in Heaven, but shall all cease, as being not capacitated for a Fruition: and yet are of great use while we are on this side Heaven. How necessary is Patience to bear up the Soul under trials that it fret not against God who in∣flicts them? How greatly doth Hope temper any pre∣sent souer by its expectation of some happy change that may and will follow, and so worketh joy in the midst of sadness? How even to wonder doth Faith manifest its power in all distresses, when it apprehends that there are no degrees of extremity unrelieveable by the Arm of God, or inconsistent with his compassions and friendship? Again, such Mixtures serve to work in us a greater hatred of sin, and an earnest longing after Glory; in which, our life, light, joyes, are all pure, and everlasting. Our life is without any seed of death, our light without any shadow of darkness, and our joyes endless Hallelujahs, without the interruption of one sigh. Therefore are we burdened in our Earthly Ta∣bernacle, that we should the more groan to be clothed upon with our house which is from Heaven. There∣fore yet have we the remainders of sin, by which we are unlike God; and the first-fruits onely of the spirit, by which we resemble him; that we might long and wait for the Adoption and Redemption, wherein what ever is blended and imperfect shall be done away. When not to sin, which is here onely our Duty, shall be the top branch of our reward and blessedness. O ho∣ly Lord, I complain not of my present lot, for though it be not free from mixture, yet it is greatly differing from what others find and feel, whose lines are not

fallen in so fair a place: But still I say, when shall I dwell in that blessed Country where sorrows dye, and joys cannot? Into which Enemy never entred, and from which a Friend never parted? When shall I pos∣sess that Inheritance which is a Kingdom for its great∣ness, and a City for its beauty, where there is Society without Envy, and rich Communications of good with∣out the least diminution.

Meditation XLIII. Ʋpon Time and Eternity.

THe two Estates of this and the other World are measured by Time, and by Eternity, as their just and proper measures, there being nothing in this World which is not as transient as Time, nor in the other which is not as fixed and lasting as Eternity. How inexpressibly then must the good and evil, the happiness and the misery of those two Estates differ from eac•• other? What is the duration of all earthly greatness in respect of the stability of heavenly glory, but as a flash of lightning to a standing Sun in the Firmament; or as a spark ascending from a furnace, to a never setting Star? What are the most fiery trials of this life, either for intension, or length, unto the everlasting burnings and scorchings of hell; but as the soft and gentle heat of a blushing face, unto the constant flames and tor∣ments of the bowels? What are Racks, Stone, Col∣lick, Strangury, Convulsions, heaped together into an extream horrour, but as the simple grudgings of an Ague, to the desperate rage and anguish which the

least bite of that worm that dies not creates in the lowest faculty of the soul? There are additions to things which are limited, and diminuent terms of that to which they are annexed; and contain in them (as Lo∣gicians speak) oppositum in opposito, one opposite in ano∣ther. He that saith, a dead man, or a painted Lion, by saying more, saith less than if he had said but a man, or a Lion only, without any such additions; it is all one in effect as if he had said no man, no Lion: For a dead man is not a man, neither is a painted Lion a Lion. Such are the additions of Time, which put to good or evil expresse less than if nothing had been added. He that saith, happiness for a season, or sorrow for a time, saith less than if he had said happiness or sorrow only: For perfect happiness or sorrow cannot be circumscribed in the narrow limits of Time, no more than Immensity in the points of a place. What is happiness that will expire, but misery at a distance? Or what is sorrow that endures only for a time, but an evil, supported by hope? But adde Eternity to good or evil, and it makes the good to be insinitely better, and the evil to be infi∣nitely worse. Can I then do less than wonder, that men, who carry eternal souls in their bosoms, such as are of kin to Seraphims, yea, advanced to the partici∣pation of the Divine Nature, that are the immediate Subjects of Endless woe, or bliss, should yet so live, A•• si fabula esset omnis eternitatas, as if Eternity were a fable; as if they had neither God to serve, or souls to save? May I not say, be astonished O heavens at this, and be horribly afraid, be ye very desolate, as the Lord himself did at Israels folly? What greater stupidity can there be, than this which most are guilty of, to busie themselves, like Martha, about perishing trifles, and to neglect the one thing which is necessary? To be

thoughtfull of things below, and seldom think of hea∣ven, till death summon them to leave Earth? To make Salvation the by-work of their lives, and the fulfilling the apperites of the flesh their chiefest task and care? Were it not a strange thing if a man, who is to be judged on the morrow, and to receive the sentence ei∣ther of a cruel death, or of a rich and honourable estate, could not keep in mind the concernments of the next approaching day, without tying some Scarlet thread upon his finger as a significant Ceremony to remember him? Or the writing of some Caveats upon the posts of the Prison which might hint unto him what danger his life is in? Is it not much more strange that the weighty matters of eternal life, or eternal death, should not by their own greatness press the heart of man unto a constant remembrance of them, especially when he knoweth not what a day may bring forth? Can the miscarriage of such a person be other than dreadful, when their follies, as well as their pains, shall make them to gnash their teeth, and to curse themselves for the neglect of that great Salvation which hath been often tendred them in the Gospel? When they shall feel everlastingly, what they could never be perswaded for to fear? When they shall be convinced that at a far cheaper rate they might have been Saints in Heaven than Salamanders in Hell? O that I could therefore awaken and excite all those whom the present enjoy∣ments of the world serve as Opium to cast them into a deep sleep, and will happily be angry with those that seek to raise them out of it, though they keep them from perishing in it. And how can I better do it, than in St. Chrysostomes expressions to this purpose: Sup∣pose a man, saith he, much desirous of sleep, and in his perfect mind, had an offer made of one nights

sweet rest, upon condition to be punished an hundred years for it, would he except of his sleep upon such terms? Now, do not they (who would be loath to be reputed fools) do far worse, that for the short fruition of a few transient delights, hazard a double Eternity, the loss of an Eternity of blessedness, and the sustain∣ing of an Eternity of miseries? for what other propor∣tion can all earthly things bear to heavenly, in respect of their duration, than a few beatings of the pulse, or twinklings of the eye, unto Myriads of Ages? Be then timely wise ye worldlings in a frequent conside∣ration of your eternal being that you may not pass your life away in a dream of happiness, and awake in the horrour of a begun Eternity in misery. Say unto your selves, are we not in the world, as the Child con∣ceived is in the womb, not to abide there, but to come out in a due time to a more full and free life? Why then do we fondly think of building Tabernacles here? Why do we so please our selves in our present condition, as to be wholly regardless of our future? Is not death such a combate as we never enter into but once, and therein are either saved, or shin eternally? Why do we then make little or no provision against what we know will, and must certainly follow? Do we think that our glory shall descend after us, and screen us from Gods siery indignation? Will our riches pur∣c••ase heaven, or bribe hell? Will the first-born of our body be accepted for the sin of our soul? What is it that makes our cares and fears so preposterous, are we anxious for to morrow, and though••less of Eternity? We fear the Grave, and mock at Hell, we dread the Lightning, and slight the Thunder-bolt. O methinks such pungent Interrogations should startle the most se∣c••re if they would but put Conscience upon an answer,

and not, like Pilate, only ask the question, and then go their way. It is mens living by sense, that is that stone of stumbling upon which they ruine themselves: Some surfet and over-charge themselves with sensual delights, as that their Intellectuals are wholly lost to all acts of Reason; others who have jealousies concerning their future estates, are more willing to venture what the issue will be, than undergo an impartial trial; they fear more what sentence Conscience will pass, than the Condemnation that God will inflict. Few there be that put Time and Eternity in the Ballance, and weigh them one against the other, or consider, that life, upon which Eternity depends, is a vapour, a wind, a span, at most, which the further it is stretched, the more pain∣ful it is: And that Eternity is a bottomless gulph, which no Line can fathom, no time can reach, no tongue can express. It is a duration alwaies present, a being al∣waies in being, an everlasting now; It swallows up all revolutions of Ages, as Pharaohs lean Kine did eat up the fat, which when they had eaten them up, it could not be known that they had eaten them, but were still as at the beginning. What strange thing can we ima∣gine that in its duration would not be effected? A tear let fall from the damned once in ten thousand years would fill the earth with far more water than it was co∣vered with in the Deluge. A dust taken from the Mountains, and ••neven parts of the world, would in the like intervals level the Universe, and turn it into a Plain, and yet there would be still an Eternity behind. Never, never, is the killing word that breaks the heart of all these hopeless Prisoners that lye buried in the flames of Hell. Suppositions and possibilities which I tremble to think of, if they might be but turned in∣to promises unto them of the termination of their an∣guish

and torment, O how would their hearts revive within them, and how thankfully would they acknow∣ledge Gods goodness unto them? Do thou therefore, O glorious Lord, who art the Ancient of daies, the Rock of Ages, the Father of Eternity, teach me to number my daies that I may apply my heart unto true wis∣dom, that I may walk in the way of life which is above to the wise, and depart from hell beneath.

Meditation XLIV. Vpon a Physicians feeling the Pulse.

HOw often and how exactly do Physicians feel the Pulse of their Patients? Not a day passeth with∣out a strict observation of the motions that it makes, according unto which they judge both of the greatness and danger of the distemper, and what the Issues are like to be both in respect of life and death. They do not as other Visitors, ask the Patient how he doth, but inform him rather how he is, and from the report which they make of his malady, his fears and hopes are the more or less. And yet how rarely do they feel their own pulse, who are so seemingly anxious about ano∣thers? Daies, Weeks, Months do Elapse, and pass away without any such studious heeding of themselves, as they continually in their profession Exercise towards others. And yet happily in so doing they are as the Priests in the Temple, who (as our Saviour saith) prophane the Sabbath and are blameless. But they occasion me to think of the practise of many, who cannot so easily be acquitted; Such who are severe ob∣servers

of other mens waies and actions, and as great neglectors of their own; who are far more glad that they can espy a fault in others, than grieved that it is committed: who presume to look into the breast, and to discover how the Affections, which are the pulse of the soul, do bear and work in every duty. In some they mislike the heat of their Zeal, as too much re∣sembling an high and vehement pulse, whose strength and quickness comes not from health, but from a Fea∣ver. In others they condemn lukewarmness, an indif∣ferency, whose affections they judge to be as a weak and slow pulse, or as the Spring of a Watch that is well∣nigh down, which Clicks and moves very faintly. In some again they observe an inequality in their Professi∣on, which is accompanied with frequent stands and pauses that they make; like Asthmatical and short∣breathed persons, they run a while and blow longer, before they can move again. And upon these they look with as sad a countenance as a Physician doth upon his Patient that hath a false and intermitting pulse. Few or none can be found to escape their censure, who observe the failings of others, as some ancient Criticks did the imperfect Verses of Homer, which they learned by heart, not at all regarding the many good. But what can be more contrary to the Law and rule of Christi∣anity than such practises? How many Prohibitions are gone out of the Court of Heaven to stay such irregular proceedings? Are we not by Christ forbid to judge that we be not judged? To judge nothing before the time untill the Lord come? And yet what if any man could know the true temper of the affections of others, as fully as a Physician c••n distinguish a well & a sick pulse, would this knowledg be any advantage unto him while he is both ignorant and regardless of his own estate? Would

he thereby find such joy and comfort in himself, as he that by an impartial examination of himself can disco∣ver the truth and sincerity of his own heart to Christ, though he can say nothing of others? Surely this man, as the hungry, would be filled with good things, when the other, as the rich, should be sent empty away. He, as the humble Publican, would be justified, when the other, as the proud Pharisee, should be condemned. Let others then, Physician like, study the condition of others, I shall look upon it as my duty, and make it my work, not to find out what others are, but what I am in regard of my unfained love and affection unto Christ, who hath transcendently merited my love, though I am wholly unworthy of his. Erasistratus is famed in History for discovering the love of Antiochus to his Mother-in-law which shame forced him to con∣ceal, by the motion of his pulse, which he observed to move differently in her presence from what it did at other times. O how happy should I deem my self if I could find the pulse of my affections alwaies working more quick and lively in me whenever I behold my Saviour present in the feast of love, in which he is pleased not only to let me see him, but to enjoy him; or when I hear his name mentioned in a duty, or when I read his name written in his Word, which is therefore the sweeter because his name is so often in it; but I have cause to be ashamed at the uneven temper of my heart, which discovers it self in those intermissions of love and affection that I too often labour under; how often am I chill and cold in the same duty? At what poor trifles do I often stick, when my love to him should blush at the name of difficulty? Can I ever do, or suffer for him too much, whose perfections render him wholly uncapable of being loved too much? If I were

melted in the Flames and Ardors of Divine Love, might I not say still there are degrees and intentions of heat, which I want, and others have? Christians should be the rivalls of Seraphims; whose Name ex∣presseth them to be of a flaming Nature, and whose Imployment, in Isaiahs Mysterious Vision, is to cry one to another holy, holy, holy Lord God of hosts: he is the object to which those Flames that warm them do aspire and tend. O that my heart, like the Prophets Lips, were touched by some Seraphim, that I might love Christ, which is the best of Duties, with an heart flaming with the Fire of Heavenly Love, which is the best of tempers.

Meditation XLV. Ʋpon a Bee-bive and a Waspes nest.

THose two insects have, as the Naturalists observe, a likeness in sundry Particulars: The Waspes have one common habitation, as well as the Bees, and are under the Government of a King; who, as the King of Bees, is the largest, and most beautifull among them: In the Building of their Cells and Combes they are exact, and make them much like to the Bees both for their figure and size: But they make no Hony at all, nor yet any Wax that is for service; they live onely upon Rapine, and are injurious to most kind of fruits; like Thieves they enter by force into the Hives of Bees and devour the Hony which hath with much industry

been gathered by them. So eager are they after what is sweet, as that any narrow mouthed glass set neer the Hive with a little sweet liquor becomes a snare to drown and destroy them, and a security to the Bees to prevent their Theft, which pass the more freely into their Cells, not tempted to endanger theit lives, or to neglect their Work by the sight of such a pleasing bait. And now whither my thoughts carry me, who cannot easily conjecture? is there not a double Polity, or So∣ciety of Men, the one of which may justly be resem∣bled to Waspes, and the other to Bees? It was Tertul∣lians saying long since, Faciunt favos & vespae, faciunt Ecclesias Marcionitae: Waspes make Combes, but they are empty ones; and so Hereticks make Churches, but they are void of Truth, which is that sweet Hony that is to be found onely amongst the Assemblies of the Faithfull. What else is the Church of Rome, not∣withstanding all those pretences which it makes of be∣ing a Mother-Hive, but a Neast of Angry Waspes, un∣der the Rule and Sway of a Spiritual Abaddon: how many swarmes have gone out from thence, not to make Hony, but to destroy what others have made? fraudes, robberies, violence have been the things which they have practised, and with which their habitations have been filled; have they not thrust their Stings deep into ••housands, who have detected their Impostures, and have endeavoured to hold the Mystery of the Faith in a pure Conscience? Have they not wasted many pla∣ces, which were like the Garden of the Spouse, full of precious fruits, into which her Beloved might come, and eat of his hony and hony-combe? who can express the rage and scorn with which they have trampled up∣on those, that durst not abett their impieties? how fond and fruitless then must the attempts of those be,

who, as if they had forgotten what Amaleck had done are setting on soot overtures of Peace, and termes of Accommodation between Protestancy and Popery? as if the distances between the one and the other were more seeming than reall, and might as readily be brought together as the two extreames of a Serpent, who can, when he pleaseth, cast himself into a Circle, and take his Tail into his Mouth? But who knoweth not that a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump; and so will a little Error diffuse its poyson through the whole body of truth, like a drop of oyl on Cloath, it no sooner falls then spreads; like a spark on Tinder it catcheth, and runs at once. And therefore Paul would not for one hour give place unto false Brethren, least the Truth of the Gospel might be endangered. To do it then with the least prejudice to Truth is sinfull; and to effect it without it is impossible. Sooner may they reconcile Antipathies in Nature, than in Religion: When therefore they have combined Fire and Water, without extinction of each other, and made an amity between the Dove and the Hawk, between the Waspe and the Bee; So that the one shall not infest the other, then may they promise themselves success, in making up the breaches between Babylon and Zion. But O that they who are so sludious to make strife to cease between the Philistines and the Israelites, would bend their Mindes to heal the Divisions of Israel, among whom there are great thoughts and searchings of heart. Is it not pity to see the Industrious Bees, whose La∣bours are so usefull to their owner, to make a War in the Mouth of their Hive, and to kill one another by those Stings with which they should defend their Cells against Waspes and Drones? and is it not then a sad spectacle to behold Christians who should be

joyned together, fidei vinculo, glutine Charitatis; by the Bond and Cement of Faith and Love, to be divided one from another, and in Animosities to draw the Sword, and to sheath it also in the Bowells of each other? And yet such heats there have sometimes been, and still are between Brethren. I could me∣thinks give way to my Sorrow, and let it overflow the Bankes, to see Professors to be less tender of Christs Body, than the Souldiers were of his Coat; and few or none to prize that Unity which is the Glory of the Faith of the Gospel. Have we not all one Father, God blessed for ever? have we not all one Elder Brother, Jesus Christ, who is the First-Borne of every Creature? are we not all quick∣ened by one Spirit, who is a Spirit of Love? are we not all under one Solemne Vow of Baptisme, in which we have dedicated our selves to Gods Service as his Souldiers? how can we then turn Enemies one to another? O God do thou, who hast made that blessed Promise of giving thy Peo∣ple one Heart, and one Way, put into them a Spirit of Wisdome and Love, that they may walk Wisely to those that are Without, and Lovingly one towards another; that by this all Men may know that they are Christs Disciples, and believe that thou hast sent him.

Meditation XLVI. Ʋpon Contentment and Satisfaction.

IT is our Saviours Maxim, that Mans life consisteth not in the abundance of things which he possesseth. If there be any happiness upon Earth, it is in that we call Contentation, which cometh from the Minde with∣in, and not from the things without. Perfect Satisfa∣ction is to be had onely in Heaven, where we shall be happy, not by the Confinement, but by the Fruition of our desires: Then (saith David) I shall be satisfied, when I awake with thy likeness. How happy therefore is every Godly Mans Condition, who are the onely Persons that are instructed in the Mystery of Con∣tentment while they live on Earth, and shall be in Heaven the sole Possessors of perfect and everlasting Blessedness? True it is, that Philosophy hath great∣ly prized, and earnestly sought this Rich Jewell of Contentation; but Christianity hath onely found it. The Moralists have exercised their Wits in giving of Rules to attain it, and have let fall some Sentences that may deserve to be put in the Christians Register, but they could never look into the true Grounds from whence sound Contentment doth arise, and upon which it is to be built. The highest of their Pre∣cepts have not (as I may say) the root of the Mat∣ter in them, and are therefore insufficient wholly to compose the Minde, to such a Calme and Even Tem∣per, as may, in the variety of Changes, shew and dis∣cover its self to be so reconciled to its present Con∣dition,

as not to lose its Inward Peace and Sere∣nity, whatsoever the Stormes and Cross Accidents are from without. What are the Considerations which they prescribe as a support against Poverty, Sickness, Imprisonment, loss of Friends, Banish∣ment, and such like Evils? are they not Perswasi∣ons drawn from the Dignity of Man, from the va∣nity and uncertainty of all outward things; from the shortness and frailty of Life, from the befalling of the same things unto others? But alass •• what slen∣der Props are these to bear the stress and weight of those Armies of Trialls, which at once may affault the Life of Man. These may haply serve as secon∣dary helpes to alleviate the bitterness of some Af∣flictions, when we are apt to think them greater than what others have felt, or longer than what others have endured: But to keep the Minde in Peace in the midst of all aestuations from without, there must be more Effectual Remedies than either Nature or Morality can suggest. From whence then can true Contentment arise but from Godliness, which hath a Sufficiency to establish the Heart? it is that alone which bringeth a Man home to God, out of whom neither Contentment, nor Satisfaction can ever be had. It is that which acquainteth a Man with that great Secret, of Gods Speciall Providence over his Children, who Rules the World, not onely as a Lord, to make them sensible of his Power, but as a loving Father to make them confident of his good∣ness, whereby he disposeth all things for the best. O when Faith hath once apprehended this, how firmly can it rest upon the Promises which are made to Godliness, both of this life and that which is to come? How can it work far more Contentation with

the meanest Food, than others have with the cost∣liest Delicates; with the poorest Raiment, than others have with their richest Ornaments? It is Faith onely that teacheth a Christian like a skilfull Musician, to let down a String a Peg lower, when the Tune requires it; or like an experienced Spagirick to re∣mit, or intend his Furnace as occasion serves. Such an one was Paul, who learned this heavenly Art, not at Gamaliels feet, but in Christs School, the Holy Spirit of God being his Teacher, so that he knew both how to want and how to abound, and in whatsoe∣ver State he was therewith to be content. Let none then so far admire those Heathen Sages in those speculations of theirs concerning this Mystery, as if they had attained to hit that Mark at which they levelled, and had arrived at the utmost boundaries of it. Whenas in all their Essayes, they have fallen as far short of true Contentation, as Sick Mens Slumbrings and Dreams, do of a sound and healthfull rest. Of all their Pre∣cepts and Rules I may say as Erasmus did of Sene∣ca, in an Epistle of his, Si legas eum ut paganum, scripsit Christianè si ut Christianum, scripsit paganicè; If you read them as the Sayings of Heathens, they speak Christianly; but if you look upon them as the Sayings of Christians, they speak Paganly. And how could it be that they should ever do otherwise? they being wholly destitute of the Light of Grace, and the Guidance of the Spirit, which are both requisite to this high and holy Learning? the one as a Prin∣ciple, and the other as a Teacher. But yet this I must say also, that they have done enough to shame many, who, enjoying the Benefit of Divine Reve∣lation, and living in the open Sun-shine of the Gos∣pel, have profited thereby in so small a Proportion

beyond them. Who can forbear blushing to see those who Profess to be Christians, to live so con∣trary to the Law and Rule which they should walk by? to seek contentment, not by moderating their de∣sires, but by satisfying them, which will still encrease, as things come on: like to Rivers, which the more they are fed, and the further they run, the wider they spread. Can it rationally be deemed by any, that those things which are Summes in the desire, and Cyphers in the fruition, should ever effect contented∣ness in the minde? Is not the deficiency that Men see in their abundance the ground of their Multi∣plying it? and can they ever, by the Additions which they make, heal its deficiency? why then should any try and attempt such fruitless projects, which cannot but end in disappointment? Methinks I should not need to expostulate the matter with Christians: That anointing which teacheth them all things, should in∣struct them in this, that Godliness is the onely way to Contentment in this life, and satisfaction in the other. But Lord, however others live, help me to bring my Minde to my Condition, which is as well my duty as my happiness while I am on earth; and to rest assu∣red that in heaven thou wilt bring my Estate to my Minde, which is that I may enjoy thee in whose pre∣sence is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand there are pleasures for evermore.

Meditation XLVII. Vpon the Perching of a piece of Cloth.

LAwes, signally good, oft times derive their birth ac∣cording to the common Saying, from evil Man∣ners, springing like fair and beautifull Flowers from a black and deformed Root: And so likewise the many and ingenuous Explorations of finding out the diffe∣rence between things of worth and their Counter∣feits; and of seeing into the particular defects of Com∣modities, have been occasioned from the multiplicity of deceits, which have risen either from natural sem∣blances, or corrupt Practises. The skilfull Lapidary hath, by his observation, learned to know a false Stone from a true, which the common Eye cannot distin∣guish. The Herbalists do difference Plants sometimes by the Root, sometimes by the Taste, when the like∣ness of the Leaf is perfectly the same. The Cautious Receiver, that he be not couzened by adulterated Coyne for true, makes an Artificial Touchstone of his Senses, he bends it, he rings it, he rubs it, and smells to it, that thereby he may finde out what it is: The circumspect Merchant contents not himself with the seeing and feeling of his Cloth as it lies made up; but he puts it upon the Perch, and setting it between the light and himself drawes it leasurely over; and so discovers not onely the rents and holes that are in it, but the inequa∣lity of the threads, the unevenness of its spinning, the spots and staines that are in it, and what not? that may make it either to be rejected for its defects, or approved

for its goodness. O how impartial a Judge is light; which neither flatters friends, nor wrongs enemies; which manifests the good as well as the evil to what ever it is applyed? This kinde of triall hints to me the best manner of doing that work, which every Christi∣an ought to perform with the greatest care, the search∣ing and examining of his own wayes. I may learn from what is done to the Cloth, to do the same Spiritually to my self, by setting my actions between the light of the Word, and the Discerning power of Conscience, that so the one may discover, and the other may judge what their rectitude or pravity is? and this is best done when every parcel of the Conversation is looked into, and scanned, as the Cloth that is drawn over the Perch; then it is that I find the unevenness of my Duties, the distractions of my Thoughts, and the unbelief of my Heart, which runs as a continued Thread from one end of the Duty unto the other. Then it is that I espy those secret staines of Hypocrisie which discolour my services, and blemish them to God, when they seem fair to the eye of Man; Then it is that convinced of my filthi∣ness, I cry out, My Person wants a Priest, which is de∣formed with infinite guilt, that without him cannot be covered. My nature wants a Priest, which is over-run with an universal leprosie, that without him cannot be cured. My Sins want a Priest, which are for their num∣ber as the sands, and for their greatness as the Moun∣tains, that without him can never be pardoned. My holy things want a Priest, which are defiled with the dai∣ly Eruptions of sin and folly, that without him can ne∣ver be accepted. And who is it that thus vieweth him∣self by this perfect Law of Liberty, that is not thus af∣fected? What faith Paul of himself? I was alive with∣cut the Law once, but when the Commandment came sin

revived, and I died: who was once more full of con∣ceired abilities to perform the Righteousness of the Law without blame? Who was more presumptuous in self-Justifications, and elated thoughts of his Perfecti∣on, than the Apostle, while he was without the Law? that is, not without the Letter, but without the Spiritu∣all sense and penetrative power of it; but when the Commandment came in its Vigour and Life, how suddenly did all those mis∣perswasions of his own Righteousness vanish into nothing? He then lost his confidence of being Saved by his obedience to the Law; and by the light of it discovered those inward Lustings, and desires to be sinfull, and such as subject∣ed him unto Death, which before were wholly neg∣lected and unseen. As I would therefore incite Chri∣stians to an Ex••ct discussion of their wayes, so would I also direct them to look upon them through no other medium then the Light of the Word: Wherewith (saith David) shall a young Man cleanse his wayes, (or as the Original imports, make clear as Christal) by taking heed thereto according to thy Word? The Heathen were not altogether Aliens to this Duty of Self-Examination; it was Sextius his custome, as Seneca reports it, when he betook himself to his Nights Rest, to question his Soul, Quod hodie malum tuum sanasti? cui vitio obstetisti? What Malady hast thou this day cured? What vice hast thou withstood? It was also Pythagoras his coun∣sel to his Scholars, that each Man should demand of himself, Wherein have I offended? What good have I done? But al••ss! how confused and in-distinct was that light by which they made this search? How little can the Candle-light of Nature discover of the evil of Sin, whose Rules and Principles do so much fall in, and sute with the wills of the Flesh? What Camell Sins did

the very best of them swallow down, without the least straining at them? What swarmes are there of sins, which Christians complain of, that the Natural Man is totally ignorant of, and can no more discover, without the aid of the Word, than the Eye can discern its own Blood-shed without the help of a Glass? We have Pauls own confession in this particular, I had not known lust, except the Law had said, thou shalt not covet. Before he onely saw some sins that were as beames for their magnitude, but now he is sensible of the smallest motes. To the Law then, and to the Testimony do you betake your selves, O ye sincere and upright ones, when you go about this Work! fear not its Purity, but love it; shrink not at its Searching Power, but yield up your selves to a free and voluntary admission of its light; yea rejoyce and be exceeding glad, that by the Light of the Word, ye can trace sin home unto its re∣ceptacle, and can both judge it and mortifie it in the seed and root of it, which is the surest and best Way of destroying it. He is amongst the First-borne of Chri∣stians, who communes most with his own heart, and looks oftenest into the Books of Conscience, which Writes Journalls, and not Annalls, and is most likely to obtain a double Portion both of Peace and Grace; but when he hath done all, let him make Davids Pray∣er the close; Search me, O Lord, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts, and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

Meditation XLVIII. Vpon the sight of a Grave newly made.

IT is happily no pleasing sight, but questionless very profitable, to look sometimes into the house appointed for all living, as holy Job calls the Grave. Though no∣thing less than beauty can be seen which may delight the Eye, yet much may be beheld that may passionately affect the heart. The thoughts which it sugested to me were like unto the Cloud that was between the Camp of the Egyptians and the Camp of Israel, which had both a dark and bright side: The one casts down, and the other raiseth up, but both are useful. My dark and sad thoughts sprang from the consideration of the entry of death, which came into the world by sin; it is sin that hath made all the Funerals that ever have been. In our Creation, death had neither matter in us, nor right over us: Our Innocency was free of any necessity of death. As God made us living Creatures, so his power was able to sustain us immortal creatures; we had bodily life by our soul in our body, and spiritual life by Gods Image in both, but sin brought on us death of all sorts: Death spiritual, in the loss of Gods Image, death bodi∣ly in the begun corruption of our body, and death eter∣nal in the endless ruine of both. And whom would not this single thought afflict with dread and sorrow to see what a change sin hath made in the condition of man? If Adam would have lived without sin, he might have lived without end: But now by his credulous receiving the Serpents Poyson, Death is glued to our nature,

necessity of evil to the freedom of our will, and all mi∣sery to our selves. Another dark and posing thought did arise from the progress of death, which keeps no order or method. It thrusts its sickle not only into the ripe corn, but the green blade; it nips the blossom, as well as gathers the fruit; it dissolves the knot that was but new made between the soul and the body, as well as that which age and years had con••••rmed. There were I observed skulls of all Sizes: There were some who had never seen the Sun to pass from one Tropick to the other: Others there were whose life could not be reckoned by daies, or hours, but by minutes; they dropt only from the Womb to the Grave. And is not this amongst the secrets of God, that thousands should thus pass through the world, and be determined to different Estates for Eternity? What can I say? But that the waies of God are unsearchable, and his Judgements past finding out. As it now shews his Soveraignty, thus to deal with his Creatures as it pleaseth him; so the Great Day will manifest the Wisdom and Justice of God that is wrapt up in these mysterious providences. He that is the Judge of all, will be found to be righteous towards all. A third sad thought, The consuming power of the grave did stir up within me, so that I was ready to say, Can these dry bones live? Can these mingled dusts be distinguished? Can the dusts that are scattered into distances be ever united? Doth not the Noble and the Base, the Saint, and the Sinner lye equally under the power of corruption? Who then would not dread to descend into the Grave, and make Hemans question, Will God shew wonders to the dead, shall the dead arise and praise him? But when I consider, that Believers in their ascending into heaven, do only let fall their bo∣dies to the earth, as Elijah dropt his Mantle, when he

was taken up, and that their Spirits return to God that gave them. That Death striketh not on the New man, but on the Tabernacle which is a common Lodging both to Flesh and Spirit, my fears are greatly Alleviated, for who is much solicitous for the Cabinet when the Jewel is safe. Yea, when I think that death, which sepa∣rates our persons from the world, our soul from the body, and every part of our body from another, can∣not dissolve our Union with Christ; but that then we sleep in him, and shall be raised by him, and confor∣med to him, as the pattern of our glory. O how do these most radiant thoughts dispell both the black fears of death, and the lightsome comforts of the world, as the rising Sun makes the bright stars of heaven to va∣nish, as well as the dark shades of the night? How little then doth the love of this life, or the difficulties of death abate the desires of a Believer, to be dissolved and to be with Christ, which is far better? Who can wonder at old Simeons importunity to depart in peace, when his eyes had seen the Salvation of God, and his arms embraced it? Who would not be of the same mind that hath once tasted of the Clusters of the hea∣venly Canaan to long after the full Vintage? How pathetical is that of Austin upon Gods answer to Mo∣ses, Thou canst not see my face, for no man can see me and live. Who replies with great confidence, Lord, is that all that I cannot see thy face and live? Eja Domine, moriar, ut te videam; videam, ut hic moriar, nolo vi∣vere, volo mori, dissolvi cupic, & essecum Christo. I pray thee Lord then let me dye, that I may see thy face: Or let me see thee that I may dye in this place. I would not live, I would dye, I desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Thus also have other Saints been affected, who have had death in desire, and life in patience. O

what a strange change then hath Christ made in death and the grave, and his grace in the heart and affections of Believers? Death, which sin brought into the world, is now become the only means to destroy and kill sin. Death, which is only contrary unto life, is now turned into a Port and passage into life: So that when we pass out of this life we lose neither life nor being, but are admitted to a more glorious life and being than ever we had. Death, that before was an armed Enemy, is now made a reconciled and firm friend, a Physician to cure all our diseases, and an Harbinger to make way for glory. The Grave also by Christs lying in it, is be∣come a bed of rest, in which his Saints fetch a short slumber untill he awaken them to a glorious Resurrecti∣on. It is the Chamber into which he invites his be∣loved ones, to hide themselves untill his indignation be past; the Arke, into which he shuts his Noahs whilest he destroyes the world with an overflowing de∣luge of his wrath and displeasure. And therefore it is, that by his grace they are not afraid to meet Death, which others would shun, and make it as a voluntary offering unto God, which others pay only as a necessary debt. Yea, they esteem it as one of the choicest Je∣wels in that exact Inventory, that Paul hath made of the riches of Believers, and next unto Jesus Christ, bless God for it, as the greatest mercy. O holy Savi∣our, do thou then who art the Lord both of the dead and of the living, unto whom all ought to live, and all ought to dye, enable me thy servant to love thee above life, which of all blessings is the sweetest, and to hate sin above death, which of all evils is the bitterest to nature: that so I may have this testimony of the power of thy grace in the change of my heart, that for the enjoyment of perfect Communion with thee I can gladly lose my

life, and be separated from sin, can willingly undergo death, which is of all evidences the Clearest.

Meditation XLIX. Vpon a Spring in an high ground.

THe additional blessing, which Achsah sought of Caleb her Father was Springs of water for her south or dry land, who gave her the upper and the nether Springs: If the distinct recording of this particular in Scripture carry any thing of importance with it, is it not that he gave her some portion of Land that was well watered, as the low valleys for the most part are? And that he gave also such Springs that by their high lying were apt to convey their stream to the enriching of other parts that stood in need of such helps to make them fruitful. Now, what is it that can more com∣mend a Spring, than a free diffusion of its waters, and the spreading of its moisture, not only to grounds that are near, but to such as are at a distance from it, and what can more conduce unto this commodious useful∣ness than the Springs rise from some hill, or place of ascent? Another Spring may haply serve to water some little spot of ground, to benefit some private Garden, but an upper Spring will greatly advantage a large In∣heritance. Such a like difference methinks there is in the moral Well-springs of grace and holiness, as is be∣tween the natural, according to the diversity of sub∣jects in which they are seated. Grace in a poor man is as a nether spring, which is not less useful through a de∣fect of water, but through an incapacity to make any

large communication of it, in regard of those circum∣stances in which he stands: His wants, his paucity of Friends, the little notice the world takes of him, the slightings that Poverty exposeth most men unto, are all great obstacles to the eternal diffusions of his grace, though not to his intrinsecal fulness of it. But grace in a great Person is like an upper Spring, which may convey it self far and near, because of the many advantages which he hath above others: His Counsels will be sooner harkened unto, his Reproofs will over-awe more, his Conversation will win more, his Example having the force of a Law. So willing have many been to make Greatness their pattern, as that they have imitated their infirmities. Dyonisius his Courtiers affected to seem to be purblind, and justle one against another, that so they might be like their Prince. Alexanders Followers would imitate him in their gesture, and go as if their shoulders were one higher than the other, because there was some inequa∣lity in his. Among the Persians they were wont high∣ly to esteem a long and narrow head, and were indu∣strious to fashion the heads of their new-born Infants to such a shape, because some of their Kings heads were of that figure. O what pity is it then that great∣ness and goodness should be ever out of Conjunction together, or be as Stars of a different Hemispheer, that are never seen shining at the same time? Yea, why should not those who are the highest among men affect also to be the best that so they might bring a beauty and shine into the world, that they might allure others not only to behold it, but also to imitate it, by conforming themselves to their happy example? It is the saying of Plutarch, that rare Moralist, That God is angry with them that counterfeit his Thunder and

Lightning; his Scepter, and his Trident, and his Thunderbolts he would not have any to meddle with: He loves not that any should imitate him in absolute Dominion and Soveraignty: But he delights to see them darting forth those amiable and cherishing beams of Justice, Goodness, and Clemency. Without these things be conveyed down unto others by those who have the reines of Power and Government in their hands, though they look upon themselves as Gods on earth, yet they are as unlike to the God of heaven as a blazing Comet is to a bright and glorious Sun, or a de∣ceitful Glow-worm to an heavenly Star. What low thoughts Solomon himself hath of Soveraignty when put into an ill hand, we may read in his Book of the Preacher, where he tells us, that better is a poor and a wise Child, than an old and foolish King who will not be instru∣cted, to manage his power and authority for the good of those that are under him. It is wisdom that makes a mans face to shine, but most of all those that are in highest places: Good in them is most conspicuous, and both more applauded and Imitated than in others. What evil cannot a King forbid, whose wra•••• is as the roaring of a Lion? What good can he not encourage, whose favour is as a cloud of the latter rain, which pro∣miseth an harvest of blessings? I cannot but wonder at the great changes which the Scripture reports to have been made by godly Princes, in the midst of a general Apostacy, such as Asa, Jehoshaphat, Ezekiah, Josiah who purged the Land from a spreading Idolatry, and restored Sabbaths, Ordinances, and Temple-worship to their power and purity, who have bowed the hearts of the people towards them, like to the top of a fi∣shers Angling rod, this way or that way as it pleaseth them. Who but Princes that had grace in their hearts,

and power in their hands, could have ever effected such things as might well seem to be of insuperable diffi∣culty? O that I could therefore suggest such Conside∣rations that might prevail with all whose conditions God hath raised above others, to be accordingly in∣strumental in the doing of good to others that move in a lower spheer. Shall I say, God expects it from you? If I do, it is no other than what himself hath spoken, when he saith, He will get him up to the great men, for they have known the way of the Lord, and the Judgement of their God. Or shall I say, God signally commands it from you above others? Is it not to you that he par∣ticularly calls? Be wise now O ye Kings, be instructed, ye Judges of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and re∣joyce with trembling, kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way. Do you think, that greatness doth rather exempt from, than oblige to obedience, or that you shall have a more favourable Audit at the last Day, when every man must give an account of himself unto God? Be not deceived, God will en∣quire what you have done more for him above others, as he hath for you above thousands, and woe be unto you if you be found too light. Your Exaltation in this life will serve only to make your casting down to be the more dismal in the other, and to confirm the truth of that Proverb, Inferni pavimentum fit ex magnatum galeis, Sacerdotum capitibus; That Hell is paved with the Corslets of Noblemen, and the skulls of Priests.

Meditation L. Vpon the vanity of Wishes.

TRue and perfect happiness is a good which neither the light of Nature can discover, nor its endea∣vours obtain; it being as impotent to the acquiring of it, as it is blind to the beholding of it. And yet there is nothing in which man less apprehends himself at a loss, than in this, of fully contriving at least, if not effe∣cting his own happiness. Who is it that is not confi∣dent, that if he might have the liberty of his options to wish whatever he would, and to have them turned into realities for him; but that he could readily frame to himself a condition as full of happiness, as the Sun is of light, or the Sea of water? What poor and contemptible thoughts would he have of all that glory of the world which the devil shewed to Christ as a bait, when he tempted him to the worst of sins, to those stately Schemes and representations, which he could suppose to be the objects of his delight? If wishes were the measure of happiness, what is it that the boundless imagination of man would not suppose and desire? What strange changes would he forthwith make in the Universe, in levelling of Mountains, in raising of Vallies, in altering of Climates and Ele∣ments themselves? Happily he might wish that the Sea were turned into a delicious bath, in which he might sport himself without any fear of drowning; that the Rocks were as so many polished Diamond, the Sands as so many fair Pearls to beautifie it, and the

Islands as so many retiring houses of pleasure to betake himself unto when he pleaseth. He might wish that all the Trees of the earth were as the choicest plants of Paradise, every one of which might at his beck bow down their branches, and tender their ripe fruit unto him. And thus may he multiply his wishes, until every spire of Grass, and every dust of the earth have undergone some remarkable mutation according to the lust of his fancy, and yet be as far from any satis∣faction in his desires, or rest in his thoughts, as the Apes in the Fable were from warmth, which finding a Glow-worm in a cold night, gathered some sticks toge∣ther, and blew themselves breathless to kindle a little fire. For all these supposed gaieties, are not the per∣fection but the disease of fancy, which hath (as I may so speak) a Boulimia, in respect of objects, as some cor∣rupt and vitiated appetites have in respect of meats, who though they eat much are yet never satisfied. And hence it is, that men who enjoy plenty, and are far from having any just cause to complain of want, do yet, as unsatisfied persons, feed themselves with fond suppositions of being in such an estate and condition of which they can have no possibility, much less any real hope for to obtain. The ambitious man pleaseth himself in thinking how bravely he could King it, if he were but set upon a Throne, and how far he would out-strip all other Princes that have been before him both for state and glory; he fancies what pleasures he would have for his recreation, what meats for his Ta∣ble, what persons for his attendants, what Laws for his Government, and then, Absolom like, he wisheth in himself, O that I were made a Judge in Israel. The covetous person, whose heart is set upon Riches, ne∣ver ceaseth in the midst of his abundance to desire

more. Riches and his desires still keep at a distance; as they come on, so do his desires come on too, the one can never overtake the other, no more than the hinder wheels of a Coach can overtake the former. If he should, as Peter, cast his hook into the Sea, and take up the fish that first cometh up, with a Stater or piece of money in his mouth, how eagerly straitwaies would he wish to take a second, and then a third, yea, how would he still renew his wishes, so as sooner to empty the Sea of all its fish, than to satisfie his desires with accumulated treasures. But are these, O vain man, the highest wishes with which you would impe your present enjoyments, and so make your speedy flight unto perfect happiness? What if all these suppositions and wishes, which are (as I may so speak) the creati∣ons of fancy, were real existency? Yea, what if your condition did as far exceed the pomp of all humane Imagination, as Solomon did the fame that was spread abroad of him? Might I not yet say, as David did, O ye Sons of men, how long will ye love vanity, and seek after leasing? Are these things for which Angels will give you the right hand of fellowship? Or will this glory make them stoop to become ministring spirits un∣to you? Though you may conceive as highly of your selves, as the Prince of Tyrus did of himself, who said he was a God, and sate in the seat of God, yet they will look upon you no better than gilded dust and ashes. That which they adore, and with wonder look into, is not the happiness of the worldings, but of believers, who are blessed, not according to what they ask or desire, but far above whatever could have entred into the thoughts of men and Angels to conceive. Who could ever have said to God, as Haman did to Ahasuerus, if he had been asked, What shall be done to

the man whom God delighteth to honour? Let the founda∣tion and corner stone of his happiness be laid in the exinanition of the Son of God, let him come from heaven to earth to purchase it with his bloud: let his nature be dignified by being personally united unto the Divine Nature, let him be a co-heir with him who is the brightness of his Fathers glory, sit with him upon the same Throne, and be conformed to his likeness: let him stand for ever in the highest and sweetest relati∣ons unto the three most glorious Persons, having God to be his Father, his Son to be his Elder Brother, and the Holy Spirit to be his Friend and Comforter, are not these things such, as may pose Angels to tell whether is greater the wonder or the mercy? May it not be truly said, that Omnipotency it self is exhausted, so that there remains neither power in God to do, nor wis∣dom to find out a greater happiness than this, which he hath vouchsafed to man in his lowest condition? Can there then be any additions made by the narrow conceptions of weak Creatures? Let me therefore expostulate with Christians, whose happiness in Christ is compleat, and yet, as if there were an emptiness in their condition, are still hankering in their minds after the worlds vanities, and wishing, like carnal Israelites, to eat of the Flesh-pots and Garlick of Egypt, as if the true bread from heaven were not a sufficient and sa∣tisfying food. Is there any thing in the world which you cannot find made up to you in Christ? Are not all the scattered comforts which can be had only in the Crea∣tures by retaile, as being parcelled out some to one and some to another, to be had fully in Christ, in whom they are summed up, as broken particulars are in the foot of an account? Though he be, Bonum for∣maliter simplex, a good formally simple, yet he is,

Eminenter multiplex. A good eminently manifold. And there is more to be had in Christ, than can be had any waies out of him; who, as the first figure in a number, stands for more than all the figures that can be added unto it. Whom, saith holy David, have I in heaven but thee? And there is none upon earth that I desire besides thee. Surely, if Heaven, which hath legions of beau∣ties and perfections in it, yield nothing worthy of his love and affection but God and Christ, we may well conclude, that Earth, which is as void of good, as Heaven is full, can have nothing in it that is to be de∣sired by us. Why then should any, in whom Christ is the hope of glory, be as the men of the world, who cry out, Who will shew us any good? For them to be un∣satisfied who feed upon vanities is no wonder; but for those who possess him that is, and hath all things, it is strange that they should seek any thing out of him. Quid ultra quaerit, cui omnia suus conditor fit? aut quid ei susficit, cui ipse non sufficit? What can be se••k further (saith Prosper) to whom his God is made every thing? Or what will susfice him, to whom He is not sufficient? I know but one wish that any Believer hath to make, and that is the wish of St. John, with which he seals up the Book of God, as the common desire of all the Faithful, with which I shall shut up this Meditation, as with the best of wishes: Come Lord Jesus, even so come, as thou hast promised, come quickly, in whose presence there is fulness of joy, and at whose right hand are pleasures for evermore.

Meditation LI. Ʋpon first Fruits and Gleanings.

VVHat the Apostle saith of the heavenly Bodies, that one Star differeth from another Star in glory, is true also of the heavenly Laws and Com∣mands of God, as well Ceremonial as Moral, that they differ from each other in their weight and worth. Some of which set forth the greater things, and others the less; as may be easily seen in this double Command of First fruits, and Gleanings; one of which is far greater than the other, though the less is not to be neglected, because it is a stream that flows from the same Fountain, the Soveraign will and appointment of God. But that we may the better take the Dimensi∣ons of this Law of First fruits, let us view it by the help of some Considerations, as Astronomers by instruments judge of the Altitude, and Magnitude of a Star. We may first see it in the extent of those things in the offering of which God would be honoured and acknowledged; he required the firstlings of Men and Cattel, the first fruits of trees, and of the Earth, in the sheaf, and in the threshing floor, in the dough, and in the loaves. It did reach to all their Substance, and the encrease, which without this Service was but a polluted and an unclean heap.

Secondly, In the solemn manner of the offering of them unto God, which was to be done with an hum∣ble Confession of their Fathers poverty; A Syrian ready to perish was my Father, and of the hard bondage

in Egypt sustained by them, and with acknowledgment of Gods gracious looking upon their Affliction, La∣bour, and Oppression, bringing them also forth with a mighty hand and out-stretched arm, with great ter∣ribleness, and with signs and wonders, and giving them a Land that floweth with milk and honey.

Thirdly, In the express command for the speedy payment of them, they were not to be delayed, much less withheld; to keep them back was robbery, to defer them was disobedience, and rendred them rather to be of the Gleanings and Corners of the field, which God had appointed to be reserved for the poor; then of the First fruits which he required for himself. It was an injury to the moral duty which they did teach of Con∣secrating to God the first and prime of their years, and abilities, which is to him far more acceptable than all Offerings and Sacrifices whatever; for how could it be, that he who was careless of the Rite and Ceremony, which typified his duty to him, should ever be mind∣ful of doing that which was the marrow and substance of it. And now when I think that First fruits only were the shadow of our early honouring God, and re∣membring him in the day of our youth, when all the faculties both of soul and body are in their vigour and strength. I cannot but wonder, as well as mourn, to see that under the Doctrine of the Gospel, which reacheth men to deny all ungodliness and worldly lusts, that thereby they might become a kind of first fruits unto God and the Lamb. So few make Religion the work of the morning of their Age, and so many of the Evening. What else is this, but to give the First fruits to Satan, and the Gleanings to God; To him the finest of the flower, and to God the bran? But tell me, O ye deferrers of holiness, who make it

both the least and the last work of your lives. Is it only necessary to die to God, and not 10 live to him? Or is it reasonable to say as that young man did to his Companion, when he saw Ambrose dying, Tecum vi∣verem & cum Ambrosio moriar, I would live with thee, and dye with Ambrose? Is not this to mock God, whom yet you would have to save you? And to minister matter of triumph to the God of this world, whose Captives you have been, that though the God of heaven pay you your wages, yet you have done wholly his work? Unto you therefore, O men, I call, and my voice is unto the Sons of men, be not deceived, God will not be mocked: It is not the owning of him when you can serve neither your selves, nor your Lusts any longer, that will be acceptable unto him: It is not a few bedrid prayers, that are as those Ears of Corn which Pharaoh saw in his dream, withered, thin, and blasted with the East wind, that will expiate those black Crimes with which your ill-spent life is over∣spread. Can an Offering of Gleanings, which is made up of robbery, and disobedience, of wronging the poor, and violating the Command of God, ever hallow the whole Harvest? No more can such duties be availing to reconcile you to God, who requires that you should seek him early. Yea, hath he not cursed the deceiver, which hath in his Flock a Male, and sacrificeth to the Lord a corrupt thing? And what are you but deceivers? Who waste the Lamp of time that God hath given you to work by, in the sinful de∣lights of the flesh and alienate the chief of your strength and parts from him that should have been honoured, both with the first and best of your abilities, and in your Age have nothing to offer to him, but a large bedroll of hainous enormities, which may justly bring

down your gray haires with sorrow unto the grave? How blessed a thing is it then for Men to give to God the first-fruits of their Youth, that he may not give them bitter after-fruits, and cause them to feel more smart of their sins in their Old Age, then ever they found pleasure or delight in them in their Youth? and what better Perswasions can I suggest, then to consi∣der,

First, That early Piety gives both to the Person, and to his Services a peculiar Preheminence and Dignity above all others. The Naturalists observe, that the Pearles that are bred of the Morning Dew, are far more bright and clear, than those which are bred of the Evening Dew: And so are those duties of a great∣er worth and beauty, which are the fruits of a Morn∣ing, and not an Evening Godliness. It is the com∣mendation of Hezekiahs Reformation, above all others of the Kings of Judah, that in the first year of his Reign, in the first Moneth, he opened the doores of the House of the Lord. It is that which makes Josiahs Memory to be as a Box of precious Nard, that while he was yet young, he began to seek after the God of David his Father. It is an Honourable Testimony which Paul gives to Epenetus, that he was the first-fruits of Achaia unto Christ: and the like is that which he gives to Andronicus and Junia, that they were in Christ before him: To have a Precedency in the Faith, is not onely a happiness, but a dignity. What glory can be greater, then to be a Jeremiah sanctified from the Womb; or a Timothy nourished up in the words of Faith?

S••condly, The comfort of Age, is a well-spent Life; When a Man comes to the Grave as a Shock of C••rne in its se••son, and not as a bundle of Tares to the

Fire; when the Bones are full, not of the Sins of Youth, but of the Services that were then done to God; when a Man can say, as dying Hezekiah, Remember O Lord I beseech thee how I have walked before thee in truth, and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight. O it is sad when the sins of youth become the burthen of age •• if the Gras∣hopper then be a weight to the Body, what a pres∣sure will heapes of Mountainous sins be to the Soul? Age at the best hath sufficient Griefes; it is of it self a Sickness, and a Neighbour to Death, and needs not the bad provisions of Youthfull Follies to make it worse. Let then the Counsell of Wise So∣lomon be acceptable unto you who are yet in the spring and flower of your age, to Remember your Creator in the dayes of your youth; and then if Death make you Pale, before Age make you Gray, you will have this comfort, that you are old in houres, though not in yeares; and bave lived much, though not long; as having lost no time in sowing Seed unto the Flesh, as most doe, who make youth a foolish Seed-time to a Mourning Age; and Old Age a bit∣ter Harvest to a foolish Youth. Or if your Almond-Tree shall flourish, and that a more gracious Old Age shall succeed a gracious Youth, Old Age it self shall be followed with a Crown of endless Glory.

Meditation LII. Ʋpon a Rock.

IT is the saying of the Moralists, That Accidents which befall Men have a double handle, by which they may be apprehended; So as that if they be rightly taken, they become not onely less burthensome and unpleasant, but also of use and advantage to those that sustain them: like bitter Herbes that are by the skill of the Physician turned into a wholsome Medicine. The like may be said of this present Subject, that it hath a double aspect under which it may be represented to our Consideration, each of which will suggest thoughts far differing one from another, and yet both have their rise from Scripture. Doth not God bid us look unto the rock from whence we are hewen, and to the pit whence we are digged? And then what can it hold out to our view, but the misery of our natural condition, our dead∣ness, deformity, barrenness, and untractableness to any good? Is it not the complaint of the best, that their hearts are Stony and Rocky, and that they are apt to stand it out with God, and not to yield to the Work of his Grace? is there any evil that in their account is more insuperable then a flinty heart? When did Moses, who had faith to work many Miracles, most di∣strust, but when he was to make the Rock to yield Wa∣ter? though God commanded him to speak onely to it; yet, as deeming it insufficient he smote it twice. And yet is it not the Promise of God to take away the

stony heart, and to give an heart of flesh? And is it not that which I beg, that God would mollifie both my Naturall and Acquired hardness, and preserve me from Judiciall hardness; That so I may not resist Pharoah. like his Messages, his Miracles, his Judgments, and his Mercies, and grow worse in stead of being better. I would that God might be a Rock to me; but I would be as Wax unto him, that so I might be apt to receive Divine Impressions from him. It is my sin to be as a Rock to God, unflexible and sooner Broken then Bent; But it is my unspeakable comfort to think that God will be a Rock to me, who stand in a continual need of his aide and power, to uphold me, who, if I be not built upon him, cannot subsist; and if I be not hid in him can have no salvation. I cannot therefore but give some scope and line to my thoughts, that I may the better take in the honey and sweetness that drops from this Metaphoricall Name of God, who is often stiled in Scripture, the Rock of Israel; the Rock of Ages; the Rock of Salvation. But here I must use the help of the Schooles, who rightly informe us, that when any thing of the Creature is applyed to God, it must be, via re∣motionis, by way of remotion; and via eminentiae, by way of transcendent eminency.

First, by way of remotion: All defects and blemishes whatsoever are not in the least to be attributed unto him who is absolutely perfect; as Heraulds say of Bear∣ings, the resemblance must be taken from the best of their properties, and not from the worst. Is a Rock deformed, and of unequall parts? God is the first of Beauties, as well as of Beings, and all his attributes are equally infinite; his Justice is of as large extent as his Mercy; and his Wisdom as his Power. Is a Rock unsensible of the straits of those that fly unto it for suc∣cour?

so is not God, who is both a Rock and a Father of Mercies: Who can read the expressions of his ten∣••erness, and not be affected? How shall I give thee up Ephraim? how shall I deliver thee Israel? how shall I make thee as Admah? how shall I set thee as Zeboim? mine heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled together.

Is the strength of a Rock intransient, and fixed in it self, not communicating its ver••ue to what lies upon it? So is not the strength of Israel, who is a living, and not a dead Rock, and gives both life and power to those that are united to him. I can do all things (saith holy Paul) through Christ strengthning me. Is a Rock Bar∣ren, and can yield no food, though it afford shelter; So is not God, who is a full store-house, as well as a free re∣fuge; a Sun as well as a Shield.

Secondly, By way of Eminency, all perfections whatsoever, either for degree or kind, which put a worth or value upon the Creature, are to be found insinitely more in God. Is a Rock strong, and dashing in pieces all resistance made against it? God is incomparably more: He (saith Job) is wise in heart, and mighty in strength, who hath hardened himself against him and pro∣spered? Is a Rock durable, and not subject to change, by the many revolutions of Ages that pass over it? God is far more immutable, his yeares are throughout all Generations: he is the same yeseerday, and to day, and for ever: In the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength. Is the shadow of a great Rock desirable in a weary Land, to bear off the scorchings of the Sun, and to revive the fainting Traveller? what a covert and hiding place then is God, against all stormes, and heates whatsoever, rai∣sed either by the rage of Men, or by the Estuations of a troubled Conscience, and fomented by the Malice of

Satan? Is a Rock of an awfull aspect for its height, and apt to work upon the head of him that looks down from the top of it? How great then is God whose glory is above the Heavens? whose faithfulness reacheth un∣to the Cloudes, whose righteousness is like the great Mountaines, and whose Judgments are a great deep? And now methinks I may say to my Soul, as David did unto his, Why art thou cast down O my Soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? Cannot God keep him in perfect peace, whose Minde is stayed on him? is not he a very present help in the times of trouble? what evil can befall me, under which his everlasting Armes cannot support me? What Seas of Tryalls can over∣whelm when God shall set me upon a Rock that is higher than I? As I my self cannot climbe it, so nei∣ther can my Enemies power ever reach it. A Belie∣ver can onely be wounded by his own feares; as the Diamond is onely cut by its own dust. Peter sunk not till his Faith failed him: if his confidence had risen, as the Winde and Billowes did, he would have greatly honoured his Lord, as his Rock, upon whom he was built, and have been highly commended by him, as he was for the good Confession he made of him.

But, O blessed Saviour, if Peter cry out, Save Ma∣ster I perish, how much more shall I, who fall far short of his little Faith? and am apt to fear, not onely in the deep Seas, but in the shallow Brookes: not onely when the Waves roar, but when the petty Streames murmur? Do thou therefore, holy Lord, teach me to know what a Rock thou art, and cause all thy glory to pass before me, as thou didst before Moses, that so I may see every attribute of thine, as so many Clefts in the Rock, to which I may run in time of danger, and rejoyce to find how I am compassed about, with thy power, wisdome,

faithfulness, and goodness, from whence more sure comfort will arise, than if a numerous host of Angells should pitch their Tents round about me.

Meditation LIII. Vpon a Counterfeit piece of Coyne.

VVHit Physicians say of some Diseases, Illi morbi sunt peric••losissimi qui sanitatem Imi∣tantur; That they are most dangerous dangerous which seem to imitate and come nearest unto health, may be applyed fitly to adulterous and spurious Coynes, that the great∣er resemblance and likeness they have to the true and genuine, the more pernicious and destructive they are to the Publick; wasting though insensibly not onely private Estates, but the common Treasure and Riches of a Nation. And therefore the falsifying of Coyn, which beares the Image or Armes of the Prince, as the general Warrant to ratifie the goodness of it, hath been made a Crime of the same Complexion, with the high∣est attempt or act done against his Person, the same Capital Punishment being inflicted upon him that is found guilty of the one, as is upon him that is guilty of the other. What can be done more to deter any from such Practises, then the loss of Name, Estate, Life, in a gastly and ignominious death? and yet these severities, which should be as the Boundaries at the foot of the Mountain, to keep all from offending, are insufficient to restrain many whom the love of gain, and the hope of secrecy do embolden to run a sad ha∣zard, that they may enjoy the sweet. Secrecy in sinning,

though in some respect it ex••enuates a sin, as making it less scandalous, and less contagious, yet it is a powerfull attractive to incline to the Commission of a sin. Jo∣s••phs Mistriss was most vehement in her solliciting of him to folly, when none of the Men of the house were within. The Harlot in the Proverbs makes that as her Plea to the Young Man to hearken unto her, That the good Man is not at home, he is gone a long journey, he hath taken a bag of Money with him, and will come at the day appointed. It was that which put an edge upon the Co∣vetousness of Achan, to take the goodly Babylonish Garment, the two hundred shekels of Silver, and the wedge of Gold, that he could do it without the privity of any, so that none could charge him with the breach of that strict Command which God had given, of not taking the accursed thing, least they make themselves accursed, and the Camp of Israel accursed, and trouble it. Usually when shame and punishment are the sole Motives to deter from sin; the secrecy of doing it, by which both may be declined, swayes prevailingly to the commissi∣on of it. But how far more presumptuous are they, who adulterate not the Coynes of Princes, but the Truths of God, and stamp his Name upon their Inventions, to give a Credit and value unto them? Have such workers of iniquity any darkness and shadow of death where they may hide themselves? Do they think, that though Kings cannot discover those oft times that violate the Dignities of their Crown, that they also can escape the knowledge of the most High? or is not he as jealous of his Word, which he hath magnified above all his Name, as they are of every piece that carries their Image and Inscription upon it? hath he not declared himself to be against those that Prophesie the deceits of their own heart, and use their Tongues, and say, the

Lord saith? Ye••, hath he not denounced the most dreadful of Curses against all Embasers, or Clippers of his Heavenly Coyn? To the one he threatens all the Plagues that are written in the Word of Truth; and for the other, he shall take away his part out of the Book of Life, out of the holy City, and from the things that are written in the Book of God. Who can read such a Sentence and not tremble at the thoughts of it? And yet though God be (as Bernard speakes) Sapiens Numm••larius qui non accipiet nummum fractum vel fi∣ctum. A wise Exchanger that will not take Money that is broken, or false, though we cannot mock him, as one Man mocketh another, how many do take a liberty to mint Doctrines and Tenents that have one∣ly the Semblance, but not the Purity and substance of Divine Truth? and upon these they set the Name of God, that they may the more easily deceive the incau∣tious? As Pompey built a Theater Cum Titulo Templi, with the Title of a Temple: and Apollinar is the Here∣tick a School Cum Titulo Orthodoxi, with the Title of Orthodox: What prevalency such Arts in this kinde have had, I would the defections of many Particular Persons, yea of Churches did not abundantly witness; Was not the whole Church of Galatia soon removed from him that had called them into the Grace of Christ unto another Gospel? by their false Teachers blen∣ding the necessity of Circumcision with the Gospel? and of Workes with Faith. And did not the Corin∣thians comply more readily with the false Apostles then with Paul? Ye suffer, if a Man bring you into bondage, if a Man devour you, if a Man take of you, if a Man exalt himself, if a Man do smite you on the face. It is the temper and disposition of most to be far more cir∣cumspect and jealous in the concernments of their Estates, then of their Faith; and to use both the scale

and the test to finde out false and light Coynes, when in matters of Faith, the question is seldom made, whose Image and Superscription do they bear? It is enough if they please Fancy, or else have the allowance of such whom they have in admiration. Can I then do less then bemoan the slightness and indifferency of Christians about Truth, which is the onely deposite that God hath Concredited to the Saints? and awaken both my self and others to buy the Truth at any Rate, but ••o sell it or debase it at no Rate. Rob but God once of his Truth, and what Riches of Glory do you leave him? Is not he the God of Truth, and are not ye wit∣nesses, Chosen by himself, to give Testimony unto it? And can you dishonour him more, then to make him like the Father of Lies, while you either spread the infection of Errou•• to others, or receive it from others into your own Bosome? Bethink therefore your selves, you who Deliver the Oracles of God, that you be not as the Lying Vanities of the Heathen, which deceiv∣ed those that repaired unto them: What comfort can you ever have in departing from the Form of sound Words, and in Speaking Affected and Swelling words? which are one of Satans Lures to seduce into Errors? Who can ever understand Behmens greeming of the in∣ward Root? or the Canting of the Familists, of being Godded with God, and Christed with Christ? And be you wise, O Christians, in the differencing of such im∣pure Gibberish from the Holy Dialect of the Spirit. Let not such Arts, which serve onely as the light of the Fowler in the night, first to amaze the Birds, and then to bring them into the Net, ensnare and captivate you; Keep untainted from Errours, the doctrines of Faith that you profess, which will be your glo∣ry; and the Duties that you performe to God from hypocrisie, which will be your Comfort. Let not your

intercourse with Heaven be in such Services that are guilded onely with words of Piety, which make them specious to Men, and wholly destitu••e of sincerity, which can alone commend them to God. Would it not be a piece of inexcusable folly, for any to heap up a Mass of Counterfeit Coyn, and then to value himself to be worth thousands? And is it not far greater for Men to think that they have laid up much Treasure in Heaven, and are rich towards God, by the Prayers that they have made, and other Services that they have done, which will all be sound at the last day dross, and not gold? and will produce no other return, then the increase of a sore Conde••nation? O the thoughts of it are dreadfull, to think, how many will be found poor miserable, and naked Laodiceans, who confident∣ly presume, that they are rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing. I cannot theresore but Pray, Lord help me to buy of thee Gold tried in the fire; and to get such truth of Grace into my heart, that I may never be amongst the number of those who are justly hated by Men for hypocrites in this World, and condemned by God for hypocrites in the other World.

Meditation LIV. Vpon health of body, & peace of conscience.

IT was an high and Eminent testimony given by S••. John to the Elder Gaius, in the Prayer that he made for him, with an earnest wish that he might prosper, and be in health, even as his Soul prospereth. It is a Crown that I could heartily desire might be deservedly set up∣on the head of every one, that is called by that honou∣rable

Name of Christian; and then I doubt not, but those reproaches, which are dayly cast upon them, would fall as far short of them, as stones that are thrown at the Sun; and those Scandals, at which those who are without do stumble, would be removed, and they also won, by their Conversation to the obedience of the Faith. But alass •• I must invert the Apostles wish, and if I will wish true Prospe••ity to the Saints themselves, Pray that their Soules may prosper, and be in health, as their Bodies prosper: So unequal is the welfare, for the most part, that is between the one and the other. Where may I find the Man? or who can tell me what is his Name, whose care and observance hath so far prevailed, as to make his Soul in an equal Plight with his Body? and to keep the one as free from Lusts, as the other from Diseases? Who ever thought it necessary, that Pensions should be given to Oratours to disswade Men from runing into Infected Houses? or to be out of love with Mortal Poysons? Is not the least jealousie and suspition of such things Argument enough to secure themselves against dangers that may fall out? But is there not need to admonish and warn the best and holiest of Men, that they abstain from Fleshly Lusts which war against the Soul? Is it not re∣quisite to bid the most watchful to take heed of a Lethar∣gie, when the Wise Virgins are fallen asleep? Did not Christ himself Caution his Disciples against having their hearts at any time over-charged with surfeting and drunkenness, and the Cares of this life? And yet the meanest of their Condition might seem to exempt them from such Snares? From whence then is it that the welfare and health of the Body should be more stu∣diously endeavoured by all, then the well-being of the Soul in its Peace and Serenity is almost by any? Is it not from the strength of fleshly Principles which abide

in the best, and darken oft times the eye of the under∣standing, that it cannot rightly apprehend its own con∣cernments? If there were but a clear insight into that Blessedness, into which Peace of Conscience doth Estate a Believer, it could not be but that it being laid in the Ballance with the health of the Body, it should as far over-weigh it, as a full Bucket a single drop; or as the Vintage of Wine a particular Cluster: True it is, that health of Body is the Salt of all outward bles∣sings, which without it have no relish or savour; nei∣ther Riches nor Honours, nor Delights for the Belly or Back, can yield the least Pleasure where this is wanting; So that the enjoyment of it alone may well be set against many other Wants. And better it is to enjoy health without other additional-comforts, then to pos∣sess them under a load of Infirmities. And yet I may still say, Quid Palea ad Triticum? What is the Chaff to the Wheat? Though it be the greatest outward good that God bestowes in this Life, it is nothing to that Peace which passeth all understanding? Sickness de∣stroyes it, Age enfeebles it, and Extremities imbitter it. But it is the Excellency of this divine Peace that it worketh joy in Tribulation, that it supports in Bodily languishments, and creates confidence in death. Who is it that can throw forth the Gauntler, and bid defi∣ance to Armies of Trialls, to persecution, distress, fa∣mine, nakedness, peril and sword; But he whose heart is established with this Peace? the ground of which is Gods free love; the Price of which is Christs satis∣faction; the Worker of which is the Holy Spirit; and the Subject of which is a Good Conscience. This was it that filled old Simeons heart with joy, and made him to beg a Dimission of his Saviour, whom his eyes had seen, his armes embraced, and his Soul trusted in.

What a strange thing is it then, that there should be so few Marchant-men that seek this goodly Pearl, which is far above all the Treasures of the Earth, that are either hid in it, or extracted from it? Many say, Who will shew us any good? but it is David onely that Prayes, Lord lift up the light of thy Countenance upon us. Others like the scattered Israelites in Egypt, go up and down gather∣ing of Straw and Stubble; when he, like an Israelite in∣deed, in the Wilderness of this World, seeks Manna, which his Spirit gathers up and feeds upon with delight; and then cries out, Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more then in the time, that their Corn and their Wine in∣creased. It is the love of God shed abroad in the heart, that doubleth the sweetness of prosperity, and sweetens also the bitterness of asfliction: A wonder onely therefore it is, not that few should seek, but a much greater, that any in this World should live with∣out it. Can any live well without the Kings Favour, either in his Court, or Kingdom? And yet there are ma∣ny places wherein such Persons may lie hid in his Do∣minions, when the utmost ends of the Earth cannot secure them against Gods frownes. But if any be so profligate as Cleopatria-like to dissolve this Jewel of Peace in his Lusts, and to drink down, in one prodigi∣ous draught, that which exceeds the World, in its price, and yet think they can live well enough without it; let them consider how they will do to die without it. Sweet it is in life, but it will be more sweet in death; ••t is not then the Sun-shine of Creatures, but Saviour∣shine that will refresh them. It is not then Wine that can cheere the heart, but the Blood of Sprinkling that will pacifie it. The more Perpendicular Death comes to be over our head, the lesser will the shadow of all Earthly comforts grow, and prove useless, either to

asswage the paines of it, or to mitigate the feares of it. What is a fragrant posie put into the hands of a Male∣factor, who is in sight of the Place of Execution, and his Friends bidding him to smell on it? or what is the delivering to him a Sealed Conveyance, that Intitles him to great Revenues, who hath a few minutes onely to live? But O what excess of joy doth fill and over∣flow such a poor Mans heart, when a Pardon from his Prince comes happily in to prevent the Stroak of death, and to assure him both of Life and Estate? This is indeed as health and marrow to the bones. And is it not thus with a dying Sinner? who expects in a few moments to be swallowed up in those flames of wrath? the heat of which already scorch his Conscience, and cause Agonies and Terrors which imbitter all the com∣forts of life, and extract cries from him that are like the yellings of the damned; I am undone, without hope of recovery: Eternity it self will as soon end as my misery: God will for ever hold me as his enemy, and with his own breath will enliven those Coles that must be heaped upon me. Of what value now would one smile of Gods Face be to such a person? how joy∣full would the softest whisper of the Spirit be, that speakes any hope of Pardon, or Peace? would not one drop of this Soveraign Balm of Gods favour let fall upon the Conscience, heal and ease more then a River of all other delights whatsoever? Think therefore up∣on it, O Christians, so as not any longer through your own default, to be without the sense of this Blessing in your hearts; that so in life, as well as in death, you may be filled with this Peace of God, which passeth all under∣standing. If Prayer will ob••ain it, beg every day a good look from him, the light of whose Countenance is the onely health of yours. If an holy and humble Walking

will preserve it, be more carefull of doing any thing to lose your Peace, then to endanger your health; re∣member that Peace is so much better than health, as the Soul is better then the Body.

But Grant, Holy Father, however others may ne∣glect, or defer to seek Peace with thee, and from thee, yet I may now find thy Peace in me by thy Pardoning all my iniquities, and may be found of thee in Peace without Spot, and blameless in the great day.

Meditation LV. Ʋpon a Looking-Glass.

VVHat is that which commendeth this Glass? is it the Pearl, and other precious stones with which the Frame that it is set in is richly decked and enammelled? or is it the impartial and just represen∣tation which it makes, according to the Face, which eve∣ry one that beholds himself brings unto it; Surely the Ornaments are wholly forraign, and contribute no more to its real worth then the Cask doth to the goodness of the Wine into which it is put; or the ••ichness of the Plate to the Cordial in which it is ad∣ministred. That for which the Glass is to be esteem∣ed, is the true and genuine resemblance which it makes of the object which is seen in it, when it neither flat∣ters the Face, by giving any false Beauty to it, nor yet injures it, by detracting ought from it. To slight then or neglect the Glass for the meanness of its Case, and to value it onely for its Gaiety, is no better then

the folly of Children, or the bruitish Ignorance of those, who prize the Book by the Cover, and not by the Learning that is in it. To quarrel at the Glass for its returning a most exact and absolute likeness of the Face that is seen in it, is to despise it for its excellency, and can come from no other ground, than a conscious∣ness of some guilt. Is it not for this very respect, that beautiful persons both prize it, and use it happily too much? It being the only means whereby they come to be acquainted with their own comliness, and to un∣derstand what it is that allures the hearts and eyes of all towards them. Who then but those whose features Nature hath drawn with a Cole, rather than a Pencil, or whom age and sickness have robbed of what they formerly prided themselves in, shun the familiar use of it? Or be angry when they look into it, as if it up∣braided them, rather than resembled them? Phryne, the famous Harlot, throws passionately away her Glass, saying, Qualis sum nolo, qualis eram nequeo; As I am I will not, as I was I cannot behold my self: And yet is not this anger against the Glass causeless? Doth it make the gray hairs on the head? Or the pock-holes and wrinkles in the face? Or doth it discover only what Age and Diseases have done? And let them see what they cannot conceal from the eyes of others? Now, what doth all this argue, but an averseness in men to under∣stand the truth of their own condition, and a willing∣ness through self-flattery to deceive themselves in thinking of what ever they have above what is meet? Great must needs be the impatiency against truth, when the silent reflections of a Glass, that vanish as soon as it is turned from, kindle such dislikes in the breast as to make them to cast it from them, for doing only the same thing to them which it doth to others. Here

methinks we may learn the ground, why carnal men are offended at the Word, both in putting scorn and contempt upon it, by the low and mean thoughts they have of it, or else by the anger which they express against it, in throwing this blessed Mirrour from them, in as great, though not so good, an heat as Moses did the Tables which he brake beneath the Mount. Some pick a quarrel with the plainness of the Word, as if it wholly wanted those Embroideries of Wit and Art that other writings and discourses abound with, and had none of those quaint and taking Expressions that might win upon the affections of them that converse with it. But is not this to make such use of the Word as Young Children do of the Glass, more to behold the Babies in their own eyes, than to make any observance of themselves? Is the Word writ or preached, to have its reflections upon the Fancy, or upon the Conscience? Is it to inform only the head, or to reform the heart? If the inward man be the proper Subject of it, the simplicity of it conduceth more to that great end than the Contemperation of it with hu∣mane mixtures. It is not the painted, but the Chrystal Glass by which the object is best discerned. Others again are not a little displeased with the Law or Word of God, because when that they look into it both their persons and sins are represented in a far differing manner from those conceptions they ever had of the one or of the other. In their own eyes they are, as Absoloms, without any blemish; but in this Glass they appear as deformed Lepers, and spread with an universal un∣cleanness, and who can bear it to see himself thus suddenly transformed into a Monster? Now, their sins, which they judged to be as little as the Motes in the Sun-beams, appear in amazing dimensions, and

it is to them, not a Looking-glass, but a Magnifying glass. Thoughts of the heart, glances of the eye, words of the lips, the irruptions of the passions are all censured by it, as deserving death, and there is nothing can escape it, which as a Rule it will not guide, or as a Judge condemn. O how irksome must this needs be to carnal and unregenerate men, who abound with self-slatteries, and presumptions of their own inno∣cency and righteousness, who can with as little pati∣ence endure the convincing power of the Word as sore eyes can the severe searchings of the light? We need not then wonder that the Word hath so many Adversaries, who take part with Nature against Grace, setting their wits on work by distinctions, and blended interpretations, to make it as a Glass breathed and blown upon, which yields nothing but dim and im∣perfect reflections. Is there any thing that the Word doth more clearly assert than the loathsome condition of mans Nature with which he comes into the world? Is it not expressed by the filthiness of the birth which every Child is encompassed with when it breaks forth from the Womb? Is it not resembled to the rotten∣ness and stench of the Grave into which man is resol∣ved when he is said to be dead in sins and trespasses? And yet how many when they view themselves in this Glass give out to the World that they can see no such thing? Celestius of old thought that original sin was Res questionis, non fidci, matter rather of dispute, than of faith. And some of late have been more bold, calling it Austins figment. But the more injurious others are to this Divine Mirrour of truth, the more it behoves every good Christian to be studious in vindi∣cating it from the scorns of such that despise it for its simplicity, and from the impieties of others that seek

to corrupt its purity: and to shew that for what cause others hate it, he most affectionately love; and prizeth it. Thy word is very pure, (saith David) therefore thy Servant loveth it. Can you do God better service, while you honour his Word, which he hath magnified above all his name? Or can you do your selves more right, than to judge your selves by that which is so pure that it neither can deceive, nor be deceived. What though it present you with the sad spectacle of your sins, which may justly fill you with shame and self-ab∣horrency; doth it not shew unto you also your Savi∣our, who is made unto us, Wisdom, and Righteous∣ness, and Sanctification, and Redemption? And cannot this joyful sight raise you more than the other can cast you down? O fear not to see your sin, when you may at the same time behold your Saviour? A mourning heart is the best preparation for spiritual joy, and serves to intend the height of it, as dark colours do to set off the Gold that is laid upon them. Give me there∣fore, O Lord, a broken and relenting heart, that Sin may be my Sorrow, and Christ may be my Joy; let all my tears drop from the eye of faith, that I may not mourn without hope, nor yet rejoyce without trembling. Let me see my sins in the Glass of the Law to humble me, and my Saviour in the Glass of the Gospel to comfort me; yea, let me with open face so behold his glory, as to be changed into same Image from glory to glory.

Meditation LVI. Vpon going up an high Mountain.

LOrd, who shall dwell in the Mountain of thy holiness? was a question made by the Prophet David, but the answer returned unto it was by the Spirit of God, who can give the best Character of all those who shall be received into Claritatis Consortium, a fellowship of glory and bliss, as Tertullian expresseth it. The scitua∣tion of the place, the quality of the persons do both speak it to be a work of difficulty, and disvover also the ground of the paucity of the Travellers in whose hearts those waies and ascentions are that seek to God. Most of the men of the world, like Abrahams Servants, stay below at the foot of the hill, while he and his Son go up to worship; or choose rather, like Ahimaaz, to run the way of the Plain, than, with Cushi, the way that was craggy and mountainous. But few there be that see under what a necessity they lie of obtaining of heaven, and of dwelling in the Mountain of Gods holiness, or understand the comfort that a continued progress in this Journey yields to those to whom Salvation is nea∣••er, than when they first believed. Can it therefore be amiss to evince those who are yet to make the first step towards their own happiness, what timely dili∣gence they had need to use, that in the end they may not fall short of it? And to encourage those that are on their way, that they may go from strength to strength, till they appear before God in Sion. And how may I better do either, than by shewing to one,

the great distance in which they stand from heaven, and to the other, the good proficiency they have made, which is oft times as indiscernable to themselves, as the swift motion of the Ship is to them that are in it. There being no Complaint more frequent in the mouths of Saints, than that they have got no farther, than what many years since they judged themselves to have attained unto. The natural mans distance is far greater than he thinks of, so that he cannot easily step into Heaven as he presumes. He is not born near its Consines or Borders; but in the very extremity of re∣moteness from it. The distance is not only a distance of place, but of disproportion, and unlikeness, whereby he is wholly unmeet for it: Yea, there is in him not only a dissimilitude, but a formal contrariety and opposi∣tion against heaven, which must be destroyed and taken away before he can come thither. He is darkness, and Heaven is an Inheritance in light. He is a Sink of fil∣thiness, and Heaven is a place of purity; He is wholly Carnal, and the happiness of Heaven is spiritual; And what fellowship (saith the Apostle) hath righteousness with unrighteousness? what Communion hath light with darkness? And what Concord hath Christ with Belial? Can it then be rationally thought an easie taske to sub∣due this contrariety; and to make flesh and bloud meet to inherit heaven? Doth not the straitness of the way, and the height of its ascent, require a putting off, and a casting away, every sin that hinders from running the Christian Race, and ascending the holy Hill? Is it not necessary, that the opposition and diffi∣militude extending it self over the whole man, that an answerable change should be made in every part? I have read, that it is affirmed by excellent Artists, that though gladness and grief be opposites in nature,

yet they are such neighbours and Consiners in Art, that the least touch of the Pencil will translate a crying into a laughing Face. But such is not the opposition be∣tween sin and grace, as to admit so facile a change in the turning of a Sinner into a Saint. It is not effected by a small touch made upon the face, but by a power∣ful work upon the heart, yea, upon the whole sou•• Doth not the Scripture set it forth by a New Birth, by a New Creation, which are of all mutations the greatest, and fully evince the vast distance that is between every natural man and Salvation? Deceive not your selves therefore O ye loose Professors, nor ye fond and pre∣sumptuous Moralists, who are apt to think that the shadows of your duties and civilities will extend themselves to the top of this holy Mountain; and who when you read of the young man who answered Christ discreetly, that he was not far from the Kingdom of heaven, judge your selves both in knowledge and practice his Equals, and that you want not many steps of entring into that blessed Canaan of rest and glory. For what will proximities or degrees of nearness avail if the end it self be not attained?

Exaltations towards heaven, if they lift not into heaven, serve only to make the downfall the greater; and no man stumbles more dangerously, than he who is upon the brow of an high Mountain in respect of ruine? It is not then a ground for any to sl••ck their pace, or intermit their diligence in heavens way upon the confidence that they have not far to go. But rather to intend their care and pains, that they lose not those things which they have wrought, but that they may receive a full reward. And this let me say, if an ap∣prehended nearness work not such effects, it is a dream, not a reality; a presumption, rather than a progress, and

will have as sad an issue as the happiness of that poor Fisherman, who, sleeping in the sides of a Rock, dreamed that he was a King, and leaping up suddenly for joy, found himself miserably broken and rent in the bottom of it.

But I fear that while I propound the difficulties, which are great, as well as many, intending thereby to shake only the Pillars of those mens Confidence, who consider neither the length of the way, nor the hardness of the task by which Salvation is attained; that I may dishearten others, who, after all their travel and labour, complain that they have striven much and gained little; and that their hopes of laying hold on Eternal life do rather languish than encrease, doubting that the Journey is much too long for their short life to finish. Gladly therefore I would lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees, that they might be animated in the way, and not despair of the end. Now how can this be better done, than by giving such Signs and Evidences that will best serve to manifest their motion and proficien∣cy; the not discerning of which is the ground of those fears of their spending their strength in vain, and their labouring for nought? And is not this more readily perceived by looking downwards to those objects that are below, than by looking upwards to the heavens, which will after all climbing to them seem to be still at the like distance as they were at first.

Suppose that a man after hard labour and toyl in reaching the top of some high and steep Cliff, should conclude that he had wearied himself to no purpose, in the gaining of a delightful prospect, because the Sun appears to be at the same distance, and also of equal bigness, as when he was at the bottom of it; or

that the Stars seem still to be but as so many twi••ckling watch lights, without the least encrease of their di∣mensions, or variation of their figure: Might he not be easily refuted, by bidding him to look down to those Plains from whence he had ascended, and behold into what narrow scantlings and proportions those stately buildings and Towers were shrunk and contracted, whose greatness as well as beauty he erewhile so much admired? And may I not with the like facility answer and resolve the discouraged Christian, who calls in que∣stion the truth of his heavenly progress, because all those glorious objects which his Faith eyes, and his soul desires to draw nigh unto, seem still to be as re∣mote from him, as at his first setting out, by wishing him to consider, whether he cannot say, that though heavenly objects do not encrease in their magnitude or lustre, by the approach that he makes to them; that yet all earthly objects do sensibly lose theirs by the di∣stance that he is gone from them? And if he can but so do, surely he hath no cause of despairing to obtain heaven, who hath travelled so far on the way as to lose well near the sight of Earth. If once his faith hath raised him to that height, as to make the glory of the world to disappear, and to be as a thing of nought, it will quickly land him in heaven, where his fears of miscarrying as well as his lass••ude in working will be swallowed up in an everlasting rest. And he that did once believe more than he saw, shall for ever see far more than ever he could have believed. Lord there∣fore do thou, who givest power to the faint, and to them that have no might, encrease strength to me, who wait upon thee; renew my strength, that I may mount up with wings as an Eagle, and may run and not be weary, and walk and not faint, untill I come to the ut∣most

bound of the everlasting hills, and behold thy face in glory.

Meditation LVII. Ʋpon the Bible.

QUintilian, who makes it a question, why unlearned ••en in discourse seem of•• times more free and co∣pious than the Learned, gives this as the answer; That the one without either care, or choice, express what∣soever their present thoughts suggest to them, Cum doctis sit electio & modus: When the other are both careful what to say, and to dispose also their Concepti∣ons in due manner and order. If any thing make this Subject difficult to my Meditation, it is not want but plenty, which is so great, as that I must, like Bezaleel and Aholiab, be forced to lay aside much of that cost∣ly stuff which presents it self to me. And what to refuse, or what to take in, is no easie matter to resolve. It will, I am sensible, require and deserve also more exactness in chusing what to say, and what not to say, concerning its worth and excellency, and how to digest what is spoken, than what is meet for any to assume unto himself. I shall therefore account that I have attained, my end, if I can but so imploy my thoughts as to encrease my veneration to this Book of God, which none can ever too much study, or too highly prize; and with which to be well acquainted, is not only the chief of duties, but the best of delights, and pleasures. What would be our condition in this world if we had not this blessed Book among us, would it not

be like Adams, when driven out of Paradise, and de∣barred from the Tree of Life? Would it not be darker than the Earth without the Sun? If the world were fuller of Books than the heaven is of Stars, and this only wan••ing, there would be no certain way and rule to Salvation: But if this alone were extant, it would enlighten the eyes, make wise the simple, and guide their feet in the paths of life.

True it is, that for many years God made known himself by Visions, Dreams, Oracles, to persons of noted holiness, that they might teach and instruct others; But it was while the Church of God was of small growth and extent, and the persons to whom Gods Mess••ges were Concredited of unquestioned Autho∣rity with the present Age. But afterward the Lord spake to his Church both by Word and Writing, the one useful for further revealing Divine Truths, and the other for the recording of them, that when the Canon was once compleated, all might appeal unto it, and none take the liberty of coyning Divine Oracles to himself, or of obtruding his fancies upon others.

And were there no other use of this Book of God than this, that it should be the Standard for the trial of all Doctrines, it were to be highly prized for its worth; without which the minds of men would be in a continual distraction, through the multitude of En∣thusiasts, that would be pretending Commissions from heaven, none knowing what to believe in point of Faith, or what to do in point of Obedience, or where∣by to difference the good and evil Spirit from each other. But this single benefit (though it can never enough be thankfully acknowledged to God by us) is but as a Cluster to the Vintage, or as an Ear of Corn to the Harvest, in respect of those many blessings that may

be reaped from it. Doth not Paul ascribe unto it an universal influence into the Welfare of Believers, when he ennumerates so many noble Ends for which all Scripture is profitable? What is it that makes any man wise to Salvation? Is it not the Scripture? What is it that instructs any in Righteousness, and makes him perfect, and throughly furnished unto all good works? Is it not the Scripture? Is not this the only Bock by which we come to understand the heart of God to us, and learn also the knowledge of our own hearts? Both which as they are the breasts of mysteries; so they are of all knowledge the best, and fill the soul with more satisfaction than the most exact discovery of all created Beings whatsoever. What if a man could, like Solomon, speak of Trees, from the Cedar that is in Lebanon to the Hysop that groweth upon the Wall, and of Beasts, Fowls, and Fishes, and yet were wholly ignorant of his own heart, would not the light that is in him be darkness? Or what if a man could resolve all those posing questions in which the School∣men have busied themselves concerning Angels, and yet know nothing of the God of Angels, would he not become as a sounding Brass, and a tinckling Sym∣bal? Is the knowledge of these things the great end for which our understanding was given unto us? Or is it any further desirable or profitable than as it condu∣ceth to the knowledge of God? Doth the rectitude of our actions, and the holiness of them, flow from the knowledge we have of any Creature, or from the knowledge of God? Is not his Will the Rule, and his Glory the End of all that we do? And how should we ever come to know what the good and acceptable will of God is, but by his revealing it unto us? Which he hath done most clearly and fully in this blessed Book

of his, the Scripture of truth. That then which com∣mends this Book, and renders it worthy of all accep∣tation, is the rich discoveries that it makes to us con∣cerning so Excellent a Being as God is, whom it ac∣quaints us with in his Nature, Perfections, Counsels, and Designs, in relation to the Eternal Salvation of man. It contains not any thing that is mean or trivial; the matters in it are all of no less glory for any to behold, than of weighty importance for all to know.

Do we not read in it, with what Majesty God gave forth his Sacred Law, when Thunders, Light∣nings, dark Clouds and Burnings were used as Heralds in the promulgation of it? And yet may we not again see the hidings of his power, in the wonderful Condescensions of his goodness? How doth he intreat, wooe, and importune those whom he could with a frown, or breath easily destroy, and pursue with bowels of mercy, such whom he might in Justice leave, and cast off for ever? Are there not in it Precepts of exact purity, that are as Diamonds without fl••ws, and as fine Gold without dross? In all other Books, they are as the most Current Coyns, that must have their Alloyes of baser Metals; But in this they resemble the Author, who is light in which there is no darkness, and a Sun in which are no spots. Are there not in it promises of infinite value as well as goodness, in which rewards are given not of Debt, but of Grace, and to such who have cause to be ashamed of their Duties, as well as their Sins? Are there not in it Premoxi∣ions of great faithfulness, in which God fully de∣••••ares to men what the issues of sin will be?

And proclaims a Judgment to come in which the Judge will be impartial, and the Sentence most severe, against the least offences, as well as against the greatest; What is it that may teach us to serve God with Chearfulness, to trust him with con∣fidence, to adhere to him with resolution in difficul∣ties, To submit to his Will with patience in the greatest extremities, that we may not be abundant∣ly furnished with from this Book. It alone is a perfect Library, in which are presented those deep mysteries of the Gospel, that Angels study, and look into both with delight and wonder, being more desirous to pry into them, than of perfect ability to understand them. They are such, that had they not been revealed could not have been known, and being revealed, can yet never be fully comprehended by any.

Was it ever heard, that he who was the maker of all things, was made of a Woman? That the Ancient of daies was not an hour old? That Eter∣nal life began to live? That he, to whose Nature Incomprehensibility doth belong, should be inclo∣sed in the narrow limits of the Womb? Where can we read but in this Book, that he who perfect∣ly hates sin, should condescend to take upon him the similitude of sinful Flesh? That he, who was the Person injured by Sin, should willingly be the Sacrifice to Expiate the guilt of it, and to dye in∣stead of the Sinners? Are not these such Myste∣ries as are utter impossibilities to Reason? And at which, like Sarah, it laughs, rather than, vvith Abra∣ham, entertain them vvith an holy reverence and joy vvhen made knovvn? Reason is busie in look∣ing after Demonstrations, and enquires hovv this

can be, and then scorns what it cannot fathom: But Faith rests it self in the Revelations of God, and adores as a mystery what he discovers. Yea, it makes these Mysteries, not only Objects of its highest Adoration, but the grounds of its sure com∣fort and confidence. From whence is it, that Faith fetcheth its security against Sin, Satan, Death, and Hell? Is it not from this, that he who is the Saviour of Believers is God-man manifested in the Flesh? That he who is their Sacrifice through the Eternal Spirit offered himself with∣out spot to God, to purge their Conscience from dead works to serve the Living God? That he who is their Advocate did raise himself from the dead, and ascende•• into the highest Heavens to make everlasting Intercessions for them? Can then any depreciate this Book, or abate the least Iota of that awfull Esteem which upon all ac∣counts is due unto it, and be guiltless? Or can any neglect this Book as unworthy of their read∣ing, which God hath thought worthy of his Wri∣ting, without putting an affront upon God him∣self, whose Image it bears, as well as declares his Commands? And yet I tremble to think how many Anti-Scripturists there be, who have let fall both from their Lips and Pens such bold Scorns, as if Satan stood at their right hand to inspire them. It was open Blasphemy, and wor∣thy that Antichristian Crue of Trent, to affirm, That though the Scripture were not, yet a body of saving Divinity might be made out of the Divinity of the School. The prophaneness of Politian shall make his name to rot in a perpetual stench, who never read the Bible but once, and said, it was

the worst time that ever he spent. And yet what are the fruits of his studies, but such as Gellius stiles, Scholica Nugalia, a few trifling Commenta∣ries, and Criticisms. More I could readily name of the same Stamp, that have presumed Impious∣ly to scoff at the Revelations of God, as others at his Providence, but who can take pleasure to rake in a Dunghill that may enjoy the fragrancy of a Paradise; I shall therefore turn my thoughts from them, and, as having nothing to cast over their wickedness, shall, Sanguinem pro velamento obtendere, call my bloud into my face, and spread it as a Vail in blushing for them, that should have blushed and been ashamed for themselves. But though the Word of God ceaseth not to be a reproach unto them, yet I shall bind it as a Crown unto me. Though they reject the Counsel of God against themselves, yet I shall make his Testimo∣nies my delight, and the men of my Counsel, and shall make the prayer of the Psalmist to be my dayly prayer, that God would open mine Eyes, that I may behold the hidden wonders that are contained in his Law.

Meditation LVIII. Vpon the Spirituall Warfare.

WHo can either think or read what a Slaughter was made by one Angel in the numerous Army of Sennacherib, who in a night destroyed a hundred fourscore and five thousand Men, without reflecting upon the vast disparity that is between the strength and power which is in Angelicall and Humane beings? Great things are recorded in Sacred History to be done by some of Israels Judges, and Davids Worthies, which would be looked upon as impossibilities, if the Spirit of God were not the Voucher of the Truth of them. Shamgar slew six hundred Philistims with an Ox Goad; Sampson with the Jaw-bone of an Ass laid Heapes upon Heapes; and Adino the Tachmonite lifted up his Spear against eight hundred, whom he slew at one time. But if these, and the like remarkable Acquists, which others also are famed for, and have their Names Enrolled in the List of Worthies, were as several Parcells brought into one Totall, how far short would the foot of the Account be, in regard of this number which fell by the Sword of one Angell? Well then may the Scri∣pture give to them the Names of Mighty ones, of Prin∣cipalities and Powers, such as excell in strength. How quickly would a Legion of such Elohims turn the whole World into a Charnel-house, filled with the Sc••lls and Bones of its Inhabitants, when a single Angel can in a small space of time Change so many living Persons

into dead Carcases? How soon could they cloy and surfet the Grave it self, which is as unsatiable as any of those four things, that say, It is not enough? Doth not all this therefore greatly heighten the wonder of the Spiritual Warfare, in which a f••ail Christian, who hath not put off the infirmities of the Flesh, doth yet go forth to Fight and War with the Combined Hosts and Powers of Darkness? If young David were looked upon as an unequal Match by Saul, and all Israel, to Combate with Goliah, the vastness of whose Stature, and War∣like Armes had struck a terror into the whole Camp; how strange must it needs be deemed, that one, who to the outward view, is as any other Man, should Conflict not with Flesh and Blood, but with Spiritual Wicked∣nesses, which are for number many, and for Power great? What is one weak Lamb to resist the Lyons of the Forrest? or one harmless Dove to encounter with the Birds of Prey? as impotent as either of these, may the strongest of Men seem, to do ought to deliver them∣selves, or to offend any of their Spiritual Enemies when they assault them. But yet the resolved Christi∣an, who is called to an holy Warfare by God, he doth such noble Exploits against Sin and Satan, as cause both a shout and Wonder in Heaven. Angells are affected to behold what a great fight of Asflictions he endures; what Repulses he gives to the reiterated Assaults of en∣raged Fiends; and when at any time worsted, how he Rallies again, recovers his Ground, and comes off both with Victory and Triumph, putting to Flight whole Ar∣mies of those Infernal Anakims. It is worth our en∣quiry and knowledge then, to understand wherein this great Strength of a Christian lieth, which is not a Na∣turall, but a Mysticall and Sacramentall strength, like Sampsons? But it lies not in his Hair, but in his Head,

and in his Armor, which for the Efficiency of it, as well as for the Excellency of it, is called the Armour of God.

First, The Head of every Believer is Christ, who de∣rives an influence of life and power worthy of himself. I can do all things (saith Paul) through Christ that strengtheneth me: There is a continued Efflux of vertue that goes from him, which to every Christian commu∣nicates a kinde of Omnipotency: He, who without Christ can do nothing, can in him do every thing. What a Catalogue of forces doth the Apostle m••sier up in the Eighth of the Romans, from which he suppo∣seth an opposition may come? Life, Death, Angells, Principalities, Powers, Things Present, Things to Come, Heighth, Depth? And that he may leave out none, addes, nor any Creature: And yet pronounceth of them, that in all these We are conq••erors, yea more then conque∣rors: Which, as Chrysostome Interprets it, is to over∣come them with ease, without paines, and without sweat. O then that Christians did but understand their own strength, that they War in the Power of his Might, who spoiled Principalities, and Powers, and made a shew of them openly, leading them as so many Pinion∣ed Captives after the Chariot of his Cross, whereon he shewed many signal Testimonies of a Glorious Victo∣ry, in saving a Thief without Meanes; in Rending the Vail of the Temple from the top to the bottom; in Shaking the Earth, Cleaving the Rocks asunder, open∣ing the Graves, and causing many Bodies of Saints to arise. How greatly would these thoughts keep us from being weary and faint in our Spiritual war, and make our hands steady like the hands of Moses, untill the go∣ing down of the Sun of our Life.

Secondly, A Christians strength lies in his Armour,

which when rightly put on, is able to preserve him, that the evill one touch him not: There is no standing in the Bat••ell without it, and there no fear of pe∣rishing in it. When did ever Satan bruise or wound the head of him, that had the Helmet of Salvation for his Covering? or endanger the Vitals of him, who had put on the Brest-Plate of Righteousness, and had his loynes girt about with truth? What one fiery dart of the wicked did ever so burn, that the Shield of Faith could not quench? or what way of sufferings could not he walk in, whose feet are shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace. Methinks when I consider that God who best knowes the utmost both of Satans Power and Policies, is the Maker of the Armour: It is a voice becoming every Souldier of Christ, to say, of whom should I be afraid? If he call us to Fight, and furnish us with Armes that are unable to defend us, or to of∣fend our Enemies, he would suffer in his Glory, as well as we in our Comfort; he would then have his cham∣pions to be Satans captives, and the Banner which they spread in his Name, to become Hells Trophie. And can he, do you think, endure at once to see the de∣struction of his People, and the dishonour of his Name? VVhosoever therefore thou beest, that art clad in this Armour of Proof, let me say unto thee as the Lord to Gideon, Goe in this thy Might, and fight the Battels of Jehovah. Take unto you that Sword of the Spirit, that will kill Lusts, and make the Devils to flee: It hath wrought VVonders in all Ages, and its Edg is still as sharp as ever it was. By the Word of thy Lips (saith David) I have kept me from the pathes of the de∣stroyer. It is written, said our Saviour, when he Foyled his and our Adversary, and put him to flight after his repeated Assaults. And in that great Battel that we

••ead was fought between Michael and his Angels, and the Dragon and his Angels, he and his Host were over∣come by the Blood of the Lamb, and the Word of their Testimony. Let every Man then have his Sword upon his thigh, because of fear in the night: Put not off your Armour till you put on your Robes. It is made to be worn, not to be laid up, nor yet to be laid down, because our VVarfare and our Life are both finished to∣gether; till then there is not a Truce, much less a Peace for to be expected? Sooner may we contract a league with Poysons, that when taken down they shall not kill; or with fiery Serpents and Cockatrices, that they bite nor, then obtain the least respit in this VVar, in which the Malice of Cursed Devils is as unquench∣able as the fire of Hell, to which they are doomed. Lord, therefore do thou, who art the Prince of Life, the Captain of Salvation to all thy People, who hast finished thine own VVarfare, and beholds theirs, enable me to VVrastle, that I may neither faint nor fall, but prevaile unto Victory; shew fo••th thy VVonders in Me, whose Strength is Perfected in VVeakness, that I may overcome the VVicked One. And though the Conflict should be long and bitter, yet make me to know, that the sweetness of the Reward will abundantly Recompense the Trouble of the Resistance; and the Joy of the Triumph, the Bloodiness of the War.

Meditation LIX. Ʋpon going to Bed.

HOw like is the frail Life of Man to a Day, as well for the inequality of its length, as the mixture that it hath both of Cloudes and Sun-shine? VVhat a kinde of exact Parelia are Sleep and Death; the one being the ligation of the Senses, and the other the Privation of them? And of how near a kin is the Grave to the Bed, when the Scripture calls it by the same Name? when the Clothes that cover us do the like office with the Mould, that must be cast and spread over us? VVhen therefore the Day, and the Labours which Man goeth forth unto are ended, and the darkness of the Night disposeth unto Rest; what thoughts can any better take into his Bosome to lie down with? then to think, that Death, like the Beasts of the Forrest may creep forth to seek its prey, and that when it comes there is no resistance to be made, or delay to be obtain∣ed. It spares no rank of Men; but slayes the rich as well as the poor, the Prince as well as the peasant: The Glass that hath the Kings Face painted on it, is not the less brittle; neither are Kings, that have Gods Image represented in them the less mortal. And whether it comes in at the window, or at the door, whether in some Common, or in some unwonted manner who can tell? Many oft times fall asleep in this World, and awake in the other, and have no Summons at all to acquaint them whither they are going. And yet though every Mans condition be thus uncertain, and that his Breath is in

his Nostrils, where there is as much room for it to go out, as to come in; how few do make their nights re∣pose to serve as a memorial of their last rest? on their Bed to stand for a model of their Coffin? Some pervert the Night, which was ordained to be a Cessation of the evils of Labour, to make it a season for their greater activity in the evils of sin. They devise (as the Pro∣phet saith) iniquity upon their Beds, and when the morn∣ing is light they practise it, because it is in the power of their hand. Other are easily brought asleep, by the riot and intemperance of the day, owning their unhappy rest not to the dew of nature, but unto the gross and foul va∣pours of sin, which more darken and eclipse their rea∣son than their sleep? their Dreames having more of it in them than their Discourse. Others again by their youth and health seem to be seated in such an elevation above death; as that they cannot look down from their Bed into the Grave without growing dizzy, such a steep Precipice they apprehend between life and death? Though this distemper doth not arise from the distance between the two termes, but from the imbecillity of their sense, which cannot bear the least thoughts of a se∣paration from those delights and pleasures to which their Soules are firmly wedded. VVhen therefore the most of men are such unthrifts of time, and like careless Na∣vigators keep no Journal or Diary of their motions, and other occurrences that fall our. VVhat need have others to make the Prayer of Moses the Man of God, their Prayer? So teach us to number our dayes, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom. He who was Learned in all the Sciences of the Aegyptians desires to be taught this point of Arithmetick of God; so to number, as not to mistake, or make any error in the account of life, in setting down dayes for minutes, and yeares for dayes.

A Man would think that a little Arithmetick would serve cast up so small a number, as the dayes of him, whose dayes are as the dayes of an hireling, few and evill? and yet it is such a Mystery, that Moses begs of God to be instructed in it, as that which is the chief and onely knowledge. Yea, God himself earnestly wisheth this wisdom to Israel his People, O that they were wise; that they understood this, that they would con∣sider their latter end! Can we then render the night more senseless? or keep the Bed unspotted from those Impurities that are neither few nor small, then by practi∣sing duely this Divine Art, of numbering our dayes? which is not done by any speculation, or prying into the time or manner of our death: but by meditating and thinking with our selves what our dayes are, and for what end our life is given unto us; by reckoning our day by our work, and not by our time; by what we do, and not by what we are: By remembring that we are in a continual progress to the Chambers of death; no Mans life being so long at the evening as it was in the morning. Night and day are as two Axes at the root of our life, when one is lifted up, the other is down, without rest: every day a Chip flies off, and every night a Chip, and so at length we are hewen down, and fall at the Graves mouth. O what a wide difference is there between those that lie down with these conside∣rations in their Bosomes, and others, who pass their time in pleasures, and allow not the least portion of it, to think what the issues are that a day or night may bring forth? How free are their Conversations from those sensualities and lusts, which others commit in the day, and lie down with the guilt of them in the night? How profitably do they improve their time who count onely the present to be theirs, and the future to be

Gods; above those, that fancy youth and strength to be a security of the succeeding proportions of their life? yea, how comfortable is death to those, who are in dai∣ly preparation for it, as well as in expectation of it, above what it is to others, who are surprized by it in the midst of those delights, in which they promised themselves a continuance for many yeares? In what a differing frame and figure doth it appear to the one and to the other? The one behold it as a Bridg lying un∣der their feet to pass them over the Jordan of this life, into the Canaan of eternall Blessedness; and the other as a Torrent roaring and frighting them with its hasty downfall: Gladly therefore would I counsell Christi∣ans, who enter into the Church Militant by a mysticall death, being buried with Christ by Baptisme, and can∣not pass into the Triumphant, but by a Natural death, to bear dayly in their Mindes the Cogitations of their inevitable end, as the best meanes to allay the fear of death, in what dress soever it comes, and to make it an inlet into happiness whensoever it comes. As Joseph of Arimathea made his Sepulcre in his Garden, that in the midst of his delights he might think of death; So let us in our Chambers make such Schemes and Repre∣sentations of Death to our selves, as may make it fami∣liar to us in the Emblemes of it, and then it will be less gastly when we behold its true visage. When we strip our selves of our Garments, think, That shortly (as St. Peter saith) we must put off this our Tabernacle. I, and think again, what a likeness there is between our Night-Clothes, and our Grave-Clothes, between the Bed and the Tombe. What a little distance there is be∣tween life and death, the one being as an Eye open, and the other as an Eye shut: in the twinkling of an eye we may be living and dead Men. O what ardors of lus••s

would such thoughts chill and damp? what sorrowes for sins past? what diligence for time to come to watch against the first stirrings of sin would such thoughts be∣get? It being the property of sin to divert us rather from looking upon our end, then embolden us to defie it. Lord then make me to know my end, and the measure of my dayes, that I may in my own Generati∣on serve the will of God, and then fall asleep as David did, and not as others, who fall asleep before they have done their work, and put off their Bodies before they have put off their sins.

Meditation LX. Ʋpon the Natural Heat, and the Radical Moisture.

THere is a Regiment of Health in the Soul, as well as in the Body; in the inward Man as well as in the outward Man; they being both subjects incident to distempers, and that from a defect, or excess in those qualities, which when duely regulated are the Princi∣ple, and Basis of life and strength. What preserves and maintaines the Natural life, but the just tempera∣ment of the Radicall Moisture, and the innate heat? and what again endangers and destroyes it, but the heat de∣vouring the moisture, or the moisture impairing the heat? When either of these prevail against each other, diseases do suddenly follow. And is it not thus in the Soul, and Inward Man? In it those two signal Graces of Faith and Repentance, do keep up and cherish the

Spiritual life of a Christian; Faith being like Calor inna∣tus, the Natural heat; and Repentance like Humi∣dum Radicale, the Radical moisture. If then any by believing should exercise Repentance less, or in Re∣penting should lessen their Believing, they would soon fall into one of those most dangerous extreams, either to be swallowed up of Sorrow and despair, or else to be puffed up with security and presumption. Is it not then matter of Complaint that these two Evangelicall Duties (as some Divines have called them) which in the practise of Christians should never be separated, should be lookt upon by many to oppose, rather then to promote each other in their operations: Some out of weakness cannot apprehend what consistency there can be between Faith and Repentance, whose effects seem to be contrary, the one working Peace and Joy, the other trouble and sorrow; the one Confidence, the other fear; the one Shame, the other boldness. Now such as these, when touched with the sense of their sin, judge it their duty rather to mourn, then to believe, and to feel the bitterness of sin, then to taste the sweet∣ness of a Promise, and put away comfort from them, least it should check and abate the over-flowings of their sorrow. Others again, whether out of heedless∣ness, or wilfullness, I will not determine, when they behold the fullness of Grace, in the blotting out of sin, the freeness of Grace in the healing of Backslidings, they see so little necessity of Repentance, as they think it below (as they so speak) a Gospel Spirit to be trou∣bled for that which Christ hath satisfied for. It is not Repentance that they should now exercise, but Faith; Sorrow seems interpretatively to be a jealousie of the truth of Gods Promise in forgiving, and of the suffici∣ency of Christs Discharge, who was the surety, who

hath not left one single Mite of the Debt for believers to Pay. Sorrow therefore seems to them as unseaso∣nable, as it would be for a Prisoner to mourn, when the Prison door is opened, and himself set free from debt and bondage.

Thus this pair of Graces and duties, concerning which I may say as God did of Adam, it is not good that either of them should be alone: are yet divided often times in the practise, though indissolubly linked together in the Precept. Fain would I therefore evi∣dence to the weak the concord of these two graces, in respect of Comfort: and to the wilfull the necessity of them both, in order unto Pardon.

Unto the weak therefore I say, That the Agreement between Faith and Repentance, doth not lie in the im∣mediate impressions, which they make upon the Soul, which are in some respects opposite to each other; but in the Principle from which they arise, which is the same, the Grace of Christ; and in the end which is the same, the salvation of Man, and in habitude and sub∣ordination that they have one to another; for Repen∣tance is never more kindly then when it disposeth us to the exercise and actings of Faith; whose comforts of joy, Peace, and Serenity of heart, are as Gold which is best laid upon sad and dark colours; or as the Polish∣ed Diamond, that receiveth an addition of lustre from the watering of it. Gods Promise is, that the Believ∣ing Jewes, who look upon Christ by an eye of Faith, shall be also great Mourners, They shall mourn for him as one mourneth for his onely son, and shall be in bitterness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his first borne.

Unto the careless, or wilfull, I also say, That God ne∣ver forgiveth sin, but where also he giveth a Penitent and Relenting Heart; So that though Faith hath a pe∣culiar

nature in the receiving of pardon, applying it by way of Instrument which no other grace doth; yet Repentance is the express formal qualification that fits for pardon, not by way of causality or merit, but by way of means, as well as of command, which ariseth from a Condecency both to God himself, who is an holy God, and to the nature of the Mercy, which is the taking and removing of Sin away. Never dream then of such free grace, or Gospel mercy, as doth supercede a broken and a contrite heart, or take off the necessity of sorrowing for sin. For Christ did never undertake to satisfie Gods wrath in an absolute and illimited man∣ner, but in a well ordered and meet way, viz. the way of Faith and Repentance. How else should we ever come to taste the bitterness of sin, or the sweetness of grace? How to prize and esteem the Physician if not sensible of our disease? How to adore the love of Christ, who redeemed us from the Curse of the Law, by being made a Curse for us, if not burdened with the weight of our Iniquities? Yea, how should we ever give God the glory of his Justice, in acknowledg∣ing our selves worthy of death, if we do not in a way of repentance judge our selves, as the Apostle bids us? Was not this that David did in that solemn Confession of his? In which he cries out, Against thee, thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight, that thou mightst be justified when thou speakest, and clear when thou judgest. Can I therefore wish a better wish to such who are un∣sensible of their sins, than Bernard did, to him whom he thought not heedful enough about the judgments of God, who writing to him, instead of the common Sa∣lutation, wishing him, Salutem plurimam, much health, said, Timorem plurimum, much fear; that so their confidence may have an allay of trembling? Sure I

am that it is a mercy that I had need to pray for on my own behalf, and I do, Lord, make it my request, that my faith for the pardon of sin may be accompanied with my sorrow for sin, and that I may have a weeping eye, as well as a believing heart, that I may mourn for the evils that I have done against my Saviour, as well as rejoyce in the fulness of mercy that he hath shewed to me in a glorious Salvation.

FINIS.