-?"%!*'
 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 r -, l^^^mg (.y^nifrifciir 
 
 B-Pr'-<-iM Crulf. 
 
 h7uu hiTe tt't jiee /.. hut a oravi'n FaiV : 
 Only the .'hadow of that ht-iltU ra-se 
 Wheran Hv/r tri'iuim-ti u/t those tians .**'hifh he 
 Hath /lit h-hiiid him to fontt-rilv. 
 
 W Ror
 
 JUDGMENT AND MERCY 
 
 FOR 
 
 AFFLICTED SOULS ; 
 
 OR, 
 
 Meditations, Soliloquies, and Prayers, 
 By FRANCIS QUARLES. 
 
 immm Mil'' 
 
 A NEW EDITION ; 
 , WITH A BIOGRA^ICAL AND CRITICAL INTRODUCTION, 
 
 By REGINALDE WOLFE, E.q 
 
 46837 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JRINTBD FOR i.cj;gmAN^ UUr.ST, KEES, ASDORMK; 
 fATERMOSTRR XOWr 
 
 1807.
 
 v: : . : : .V. 
 
 S. GosNCLL, Printer, Liule Queen Street.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ^ The custom which now begins to 
 ^ prevail, of re-printing the works of 
 those ancient writers who are dis- 
 tinguished for briUiancy of fancy, or 
 purity of sentiment, has induced the 
 '^ Editor of this volume to submit to 
 the decision of modern times, the 
 ^ ** Meditations, Soliloquies, and Prayers 
 ^ of Francis Quarles;" an author, who 
 i was once generally admired for the 
 variety and sweetness of his com- 
 positions. 
 
 The life and literary character of 
 Quarles being fully discussed in the 
 a2
 
 IV PREFACE. 
 
 following pages, it remains here only to 
 observe, that the former vv^as without 
 reproach, and that the latter was of 
 sufficient celebrity to place him among 
 the best writers of his age. 
 
 The ' plan of the ensuing work is 
 briefly this : The author divides his 
 book into Two Parts ; in the Firsts he 
 introduces various immoral characters, 
 indulging themselves in studied com- 
 mendations (under the most plausible 
 modes of reasoning) of their particular 
 habits and pursuits : but, immediately 
 afterwards) certain prohibitory Texts 
 of Scripture occur to them which 
 produces contrition and remorse ; these 
 are followed by a Soliloquy on the hei- 
 nbusness of their sins, and by a Prayer 
 that they may be forgiven.
 
 PREFACE. r 
 
 - In the Second* Part, the characters 
 are not absolutely immoral, but appear 
 to be overwhelmed by their miseries 
 and afflictions. After some reflections 
 on their wretched state, a SoUioqiiy 
 and Prayer ensue; the former of 
 which, as in the first part, reproves, 
 and the latter administers consolation. 
 
 It has been principally from a con- 
 viction of the good which may ensue 
 
 * In the second part, there is probably less 
 genius than in the first ; although the style is freer 
 from vulgarisms and eccentricities of expression : but 
 we are told by Quarles's widow, that this second 
 part " was taken from the author by a sly hand, 
 and presently printed without his knowledge ; so that, 
 as in like cases it always happens, it came forth much 
 unsuitable to the author's mind, both in the form 
 and matter of it." See Ursula Quarles's Address 
 to the " Courteous Reader," prefixed to the Second 
 Part, post. p. 173. 
 
 a 3
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 to all classes of society, from the perusal 
 of these pages, that the Editor has been 
 solicitous to publish them in their present 
 improved form, 
 
 R. \V. 
 
 In diis edition, the original text of Quarles is 
 faithfully adhered to ; except in about ten or twelve 
 places, where some verbal corrections became ne- 
 cessary, from the palpable corruption of the copy. 
 The orthography^ * is modernized-^ in justification 
 of which (if justification be requisite) I avail myself 
 of the remarks of Mr. Burnett, in the Preface to his 
 *' Specimens of English Prose Writers f ." " To pre- 
 vent any repellent effect to the general reader," says 
 he, " it was thought advisable to adopt the modern 
 orthography, The ancient spelling, indeed, was quite 
 unsettled, and in some degree arbitrary' ; the same 
 author often writing the samfe word in t^o or three 
 different ways. To many readers this might have 
 been a source of obscurity," See p. xi. 
 
 * Except in the " Life and Death of Quarles, by hia 
 Widow." ^ 
 
 f A very elegant and judicious publication, in 3 vols. 8vo, 
 1807: forming a companion to Mr. Ellis's popular " Spc 
 cimens of the Early English Poets." *
 
 3fntroDuctton> 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL. 
 
 a4
 
 " A Short Relation of the Life and Death 
 of Mr, Francis Quarles, by Ursula 
 QuARLES *i his sorrowful! Widow *'' 
 
 [Prefixed to the Edition of" Solomon's Recantation," 4to. 
 1645.] 
 
 " Though it be inconsistent with the duty of a wife, 
 to be injurious, in any respect, to her husband ; yet, 
 in this, my bold undertaking, I fear I shall be so in 
 mine : which, I doubt not, but he would have for- 
 given if he had been living, as proceeding from love ; 
 and I hope his friends will pardon (now he is dead) as 
 being the last duty I can perform to a loving hus- 
 band. Those that see with what pen his works are 
 
 * Not much 18 known of Quarles's family : his son John 
 has found a biographer in Wood, who tells us that he 
 bore arras in the cause of Charles the First ; but, on the 
 prevalence of the Parliament party, he retired in obscurity 
 to London, and maintained himself by the sale of his pro- 
 ductions ; none of which, however, are deserving of par- 
 ticular notice. ** This person," says Wood, " was esteem- 
 ed by some a good poet, and a great royalist, for which he 
 suffered, and lived mostly in a poor condition. At length, 
 upon the raging of the plague in London, 1665, he was swept 
 away there among thousands that died of that disease : but 
 where his carkass was lodged, I cannot tell." 
 
 Athen. Oxon. vol. ii. ;^^e. 
 N.B. In the above " Life" I have retained the orthejrraphy 
 observed by Quarles's widow, in order that it might carry 
 with it the genuine features of authenticitj.
 
 X Life mid Death of' Quarles, 
 
 wxiiien, will say his life deserved a more skilful artist 
 to set it forth : which office, though inany might have 
 been procured to undertake, and to which I doubt 
 not but some would voluntarily have offered them- 
 selves, if they had not known that such a thing had 
 been intended : yet have I (with much zeal, though 
 small discretion) adventured upon it myself, as being 
 fully assured that none can be more sensible of the 
 losse of him, than I ; though thousands might have 
 exprest that losse to the world with more art and 
 better judgement. 
 
 " He M'as a gentleman both by birth and desert : 
 descended of an ancient family, and yet (which is rare 
 in these last and worst times) he was an ornament to 
 his ancestors. His father was James Quarles, of 
 Kumford, Esquire, Clerk of the Green Cloth, and 
 Purveyor of the Navie to Queen Elizabeth, and 
 yoimger brother to Sir Robert Quarles. His edu- 
 cation was suitable to his birth ; first at a schoole in 
 ^e countrey, where, his schoole-fellows will say, he 
 surpassed all his equals ; afterwards, at Christ's Col- 
 ledge, in Cambridge, where, how he profited I am 
 not able to judge, but am fully assured by men of 
 much learning and judgement, that his works in veiy 
 many places, doe sufficiently testifie more then ordi- 
 nary fruits of his University studies. Last of all, he 
 was transplanted from thence to Lincoln's Inne, where, 
 for some yeares, he studied the laws of England ; not
 
 hy his Widotv. xi 
 
 so much out of desire to benefit himself thereby, as 
 his friends and neighbours, but (shewing therein his 
 continuall inclination to peace) to compose suits and 
 differences amongst them. 
 
 " After he came to maturity, he was not desirous 
 to put himselfe into the world, otherwise he might 
 have had greater preferments then he had. He was 
 neither so unfit for Court preferment, nor so ill-be- 
 loved there, but that he might have raised his fortunes 
 thereby, if he had had any inclination that way. But 
 his mind was chiefly set upon his devotion and study ; 
 yet not altogether so much but that he faithfully dis- 
 charged the place of Cup-bearer to the Queen of 
 JBohemia, and the office of Secj-etar}- to the reverend 
 and learned iiord Primate of Ireland, that now is, 
 and of Chronologer to the famous city of London ; 
 which place he held to his death, and would have 
 given that city (and the world) a testimony that he was 
 their faithful! servant therein, if it had pleased God 
 to blesse him with life to perfect what he had begun. 
 He was the husband of one wife, by whom he was 
 the father of eighteen children, and how faithful! 
 and loving a husband and father he was, the joyut 
 tears of his widow and fatherlesse children will better 
 expresse then my pen is able to doe. 
 
 " In all his duties to God and man he was conscion- 
 ^able and orderly. He preferred God and religion to the 
 first plaice in his thoughts, his king and country to tlie
 
 xii Life and Death of Quarles, 
 
 second J his family and studies he reserved to the last. 
 As for God, he was frequent in his devotions and 
 prayers to hini,^and almost constant in reading or 
 meditating on his holy word, as his ' Divine Fancies,' 
 and other parts of his works will sufficiently testifie. 
 For his religion, he was a true sonne of the Church 
 of England, an even Protestant, not in the least 
 degree biassed to this hand of sfuperstition, or that 
 of schisme, though both those factions Mere ready to 
 cry him down for his inclination to the contrary. His 
 love to his king and country in these late unhappy 
 times of distraction, was manifest, in that he used 
 his pen and poured out his continuall prayers and 
 tears to quench this miserable fire of dissention, while 
 too many others added daily fewell unto it. And for 
 his family, his care was very great over that, even 
 when his occasions caused his absence from it. And 
 when he was at home, his exhortations to us, to con- 
 tinue in vertue and godly life, were so pious and fre- 
 quent ; his admonitions' so grave and piercing; his 
 reprehensions so mild and gentle ; and (above all) his 
 own example in every religious and moral 1' duty, so 
 constant and manifest, that his equall may be desired, 
 but can hardly be met withall. 
 
 " Neither was his good example of a godly life 
 contained only within his own family ; others, as well 
 as we, have (or at least might have) made good use of 
 it. For he was not addicted to any notorious vice 
 
 4
 
 ^ 
 
 ))y his Widow, xiii 
 
 \vha1:soever : he was courteous and affable to all : 
 moderate and discreet in all his actions : and though 
 it be too frequent a fault (as we see by experience) iu 
 gentlemen whose dispositions incline them to the 
 study of poeti-y, to be loose und debauched in their 
 lives and conversations, yet was it very far from him. 
 Their delight could not be greater in the Tavern, 
 then his was in his Study ; to which he devoted him- 
 self late and early, usually by three o'clock in the 
 moining. The fruits thereof are best tasted by those 
 who have most perused his works, and therefore I 
 shall be silent in that particular. For though it had 
 been necessary in any other to have spoken some- 
 what of his writings, yet, I hope it will not be ex- 
 pected from me ; seeing that neither the judgement of 
 my sex can be thought competent, nor (if it were) 
 would the nearness of my relation to him suffer me 
 to praise that, at commendations whereof, from 
 others, I have often blushed. 
 
 " I shall therefore rather desire leave to speak a 
 word or two concerning the blessed end of my 
 dear husband, which v.'as every way answerable to his 
 godly life ; or rather (indeed) surpassed it. For, as 
 gold is purified in the fire, so were all his Christian 
 vertues more refined and remarkable during the time 
 of his sicknesse. His patience was wonderfull, in- 
 somuch as he would confesse no pain, even then when
 
 xiv Life and Death of Quarles, 
 
 all his frietids perceived his disease to be mortall ; but 
 still rendered thanks to God for liis especial love to 
 him, in taking him into his own hands to chastise, 
 while othej's were exposed to the fury of their ene- 
 mies, the poz^er of pistols, and the trampling of 
 horses. 
 
 " He exprest great sorrovir for his sins, and, when 
 it was told him that his friends conceived he did 
 thereby much harm to himselfe, he answered, ' They 
 were not his friends that would not give him leave 
 to he penitent.' 
 
 " His exhortations to his friends that came to 
 visit him were most divine ; wishing' them to hate a 
 care of the expente of their time, and every day to 
 call themselves to an accompt, that so when they 
 came to their bed of sicknesse, they might lie upon 
 it mth a rejoicing heart. And doubtlesse such an 
 one was his: insomuch as he thanked God, that, 
 whereas he might have justly expected that his con- 
 science should look him in the face like a lyon, 
 it rather looked upon \i\m.like a lamb : and that God 
 had forgiven him his sins, and that night sealed him 
 his pardon. And many other heavenly expressions 
 to the like effect. I might here add, what blessed 
 advice he gave to me in particular, still to trust 
 in God, whose promise is, to provide for the widow 
 and the fafherlesse, S^c. but this is already impfinted
 
 hy his ffldow. xr 
 
 is my heart : and therefore I shall not need here again 
 to insert it. 
 
 " His charity was extraordinary, in freely for-, 
 giving his greatest enemies, even those who were the 
 cause of his sicknesse, and by consequence, of his 
 death. For, whereas a petition, full of unjust as- 
 persions, was preferred against him by eight ini 
 (wheieof he knew not any two, nor they !iim, sa^e 
 only by sight), the first news of it struck him so to 
 the heart, that he never recovered it, but said plainly, 
 it would be his death. And when liis friends (to 
 comfort him) told him that Mr. J. S. (the chief pro- 
 moter tliereof ) was called to an accompt for it, and 
 would goe neer to' be punished 4 his answer was, 
 God forbid ; I seek not revenge, I freely forgive 
 Jdm and the rest; only I desire to be vindicated 
 from their v?ijust aspersions; especially that (ihat 
 for ought they knew I may be a Papist) whereas I 
 never spake word to any of them in my life. Wbidh 
 imputation, how slanderous it was, may easilv be 
 discovered by a passage in his greatest extremity, 
 wherein his discretion may, perhaps, be taxed by 
 some, but his religion cannot be questioned hy any. 
 For, a very able Doctor, of the Romish religion, 
 being sent unto him by a friend, he would uot take 
 what he had prescribed, only because he was a Papist. 
 Tliese were tlae most remarkable passages in him
 
 Xvi Life and Death of Quarles, 
 
 during his sicknesse. The rest of the time he spent 
 in contemplation of God, and meditating upon his 
 word : especially upon Christ's sufferings, and what a 
 benefit those have, that by faith could lay hold on 
 him, and what vertue there was in the least drop of 
 his precious blood : intermingling here and ther# 
 many devout prayers and ejaculations ; which con- 
 tinued with him as long as his speech; and after, as 
 we could perceive by some imperfect expressions. 
 At which time, a friend of his exhorting him to apply 
 himself to finish his course here, and prepare him- 
 self for the world to come ; he spake in Latin to this 
 effect (as I am told) *. ' O sweet Saviour of the worlds 
 let thy last words upon the Crosse, be my last words 
 in the world: Into thy hands, Lord, I commend my 
 spirit: and what I cannot utter with my mouth, 
 accept from my heart and soul !' Which words being 
 uttered distinctly, to the understanding of his friend, 
 he fell again into his former contemplations and 
 prayers : and so quietly gave up his soul to God, the 
 eight day of September, 1644, after he had lived 
 two and ffty years, and lyeth buried in the parish 
 church of St. Leonard's, in Foster Lane. 
 
 * O dulcis Salvator Mundi, sint tua ultima verba in Cruce 
 mea ultima verba in luce t " In manus tuas Domine commendo 
 spiritum meum. Et qua ore tneofari nonposiint, ab animo et 
 orde sint a te accepta"
 
 htj Ms Widmu, xvii 
 
 ** Thus departed that blessed soul, whose losse I 
 have great reason to bewaile, and many others in 
 time will be sensible of. But my particular comfort 
 is in his dying words, that God will be a husband 
 to the widozc. And that which may comfort others 
 as well as me^ is (what a Reverend Divine * wrote 
 to a friend concerning his death), that our losse is 
 gain to him, who could not live in a worse age, nor 
 dye in a better time. 
 
 " And here again, I humbly beg the readers par- 
 don. For I cannot expect but to be censured by 
 some for writing thus much, and by others for 
 writing no more. To both which my excuse js, 
 my want of ability and judgment in matters of this 
 nature. I was more averse (indeed) from meddling 
 with the petition, then any other thing I have touched 
 upon : lest (perhaps) it should be thought to savour 
 a little of revenge; but God is my witnesse I had 
 no such intention. My only aim and scope was, to 
 fulfill the desires and commands of my dying hus- 
 band : who wished all his friends to take notice, and 
 make it known, that as he teas trained up and lived 
 in the tru^e^ Protestant religion, so in that religion 
 he dyed. 
 
 URSULA QUARLES." 
 
 * The same who wrote the letter immediately following 
 the Life.
 
 XVlll 
 
 A Letter from a learned Divine, upon the 
 News of tlie Death of Mr. Quarles. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 '* My worthy Friend Mr. Hawkins, 
 
 " I received your letter joyfully , hut the 
 news (therein contained) sadly and heavily; it met 
 me upon my return home from Sturbridge, and did 
 work on myself and wife; J pray God it may work 
 kindly on us all. We have lost a true f rind; and 
 were the losse only mine or yours, it were the lesse; 
 but thousands have a losse in, him ; yea, the gene' 
 rations which shall come after will lament it. But 
 our losse is gain to him, (who could not live in a 
 worse age, nor die in a better time). Let us en- 
 deavour, like good gamesters, to make the best we 
 may of this throw, cast us by the hand of God's 
 good providence, that it may likewise prove gain to 
 lis : which will be, if in case we draw neerer unto 
 him, and take off our hearts from all earthly hopes 
 and comforts; using this world as if zee used it not; 
 so shall we rejoyce as if we rejoyced not in their 
 using, and mourn as if we mourned not in the 
 parting with them. 
 
 ** Your assured Friend^ 
 
 *'NEHEMIJH ROGEM, 
 
 <* Essex, Sept, I2f 1644,"
 
 XIX 
 
 Further Account of Quarks, and of his 
 ff^r kings. 
 
 From Hbadley's " Select Beauties of Ancient English 
 Poetry */' vol. i. Ix.] 
 
 ** It is the fate of many to receive from posterity 
 that commendation which, though deserved, they 
 missed during their lives ; others, on the contrary, 
 take tiieir full complement of praise from their con- 
 
 * The work above referred to, is the production of a very 
 extraordinary young man, who died in the year 1788. It 
 was pHblished in two octavo volumes, in 1787; and, as 
 if a prophetic spirit had dictated the design of the frontis- 
 piece, there is inscribed on a monumental tablet of antique 
 form, the following motto "Nonomnis moriar." The 
 year following, Mr. Headley died ; but his name and his 
 talents will never perit by as long as there shall remain one 
 spark of taste and erudition in the bosom of Englishmen. 
 
 This publication, which is dedicated to Wm. Windham, 
 Esq. M. P. and which is now exceedingly rare, was the third 
 in oxur country, after those of Hayward and Mrs. Cooper, 
 that laid claim to the merit of exciting in the public mind 
 a curiosity to peruse the poetry of our ancestors. It is 
 ot only greatly superior to all preceding works of the kind, 
 but has not, in my humble estimation, been surpassed by 
 any subsequent amilar efforts. The " Introduction," 
 which follows the ** Preface," contains a rapid, but mas- 
 t>2
 
 XX Account of Quarles, 
 
 temporaries, and gain nothing from their successors ; 
 a double payment is rarely the lot of any one. In 
 every nation, few indeed are they, who, allied as it 
 
 terly review * of the English school of poetry, up to the 
 period when Headley wrote: and the "Biographical 
 Sketche.^" which precede the Specimens, are written in a 
 style peculiarly neat and animated. The second volume 
 was published with some erudite and interesting ** Notes" 
 to both volumes, and with a "Supplement." The typo- 
 graphical part is unworthy of the publication. 
 
 The author of this delightful Selection of " Ancient 
 English Poetry," was one of the pupils of the learned Dr. 
 Parr, and was afterwards a member of Trinity College, Ox- 
 ford. Before he was twenty years old, he published a volume 
 of poems of uncommon merit : but which, notwithstand- 
 ing repeated inquiries and researches,! have never been for- 
 tunate enough to meet with. They bear,' however, a high 
 character with competent judges. 
 
 Headley is .described to me, by those " who knew him" 
 well," as having been a young man of extraordinary taste 
 and talent ; as possessing a delicacy of sentiment, and an 
 acuteness of feeling, known only to those chosen few on 
 
 * How admirable is his comparison of the modem with the 
 old school of English poetry! " To a process not very dis- 
 similar to this," says he, " T am inclined to attribute the fre- 
 quent lifelessness oi modem poetry, which too often resembles 
 an artificial nosegay, the colours of which, though splendid, 
 are yet taudry, and heightened far beyond the modesty of 
 nature, without any pretensions to fragrance ; while that of 
 a century and half back, appears as a garland, fresh from the 
 gardens of nature, and still moist and glittering with th 
 dews of the morning." P. xxv.
 
 and of his Writings, xxi 
 
 were to immortality, can boast of a reputation suf- 
 ficiently bulky and well-founded to catch, and to de 
 tain the eye of each succeeding generation as it rises. 
 
 whom Nature bestows her choicest gifts, and in whom 
 Genius kindles her purest fire. Modest, reserved, stu- 
 dious, contemplative, yet enthusiastic ; he loved to wander 
 alone by ** haunted stream," and 'midst " sylvan shades," 
 to indulge that peculiar train of ideas which led him, through 
 the works of creation, to hold converse with his Creator ; 
 thus realizing, as it were, the beautiful fiction of the Poet : 
 
 To noon-tide shades incontinent he ran, 
 
 Where purls the brook with sleep-inviting sound, 
 
 Or when Dan Sol to slope his wheels began, 
 
 Amid the broom he bask'd him on the ground. 
 
 Where the wild thyme and camomile are found ; 
 
 There would he linger, till the latest ray 
 
 Of light sate trembling on the welkin's bound ; 
 
 Then homeward through the twilight's shadows stray* 
 
 Pensive and slow : so had he pass'd many a day. 
 
 Yet not in thoughtless slumber were they past; 
 For oft the heavenly Jire that lay conceal'd 
 Beneath the sleeping embers, mounted fast, 
 And all its native light anew reveal'd j 
 Oft as he travers'd the cerulean field. 
 And mark'd the clouds that drove before the wind^ 
 Ten thousand glorious systems would he build. 
 Ten thousand great ideas fiU'd his mind *. 
 
 * Thomson's Castle of Indolence^" Canto i. st. Iviii-ix. 
 b3
 
 xxli Account of Quarles, 
 
 The revolutions of opinion, gradual improvements, 
 and new discoveries, will shake, if not demolish, the 
 fairest fabricks of the human intellect. Fame, like 
 
 His heart beat in unison with every thing that was elegant 
 oi" sublime ; and his studies were tempered by a sensibility 
 which induced him to seek only for what could adorn the 
 human intellect, or stamp excellence on the human charac- 
 ter, tie apjjears to have read much and variously ; his sen- 
 tutients are expressed with a boldness equally free from 
 prejudice and dogmatism. I question whether Pope, who 
 was a r^hiajrkably diligent student in English literature, had 
 read so much at Headley's age : I am confident he did not 
 possess so legitimate a taste. 
 
 Nature had bestowed on Headley a fine form, and an ex- 
 pressive countenance. His eye was that of the eagle ; to 
 which Mr. Kett happily alludes in the following verses of 
 his ** Juvenile Poems :'* 
 
 I think how HeAdley^ wanderer here no more I 
 With eagle-eye Was wont thy sands to tread. 
 By soft compassion and the Muses led, , 
 
 To weave new garlands for the bards of yore. 
 Sorrow for him her tender tear shall shed. 
 Long as the surges lave thy pebbled shore. 
 
 Sonnet xi. To Tarmoutb. 
 
 But it is painful to pufsue the subject, interesting as it 
 may be ^Headley died at the age of twenty-three ! 
 So sinks the day-star in the ocean-bed, 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head, 
 And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore 
 f hu!i in Une fpr^ead Qf tliC morning sky. 
 
 Milton's Lyctdas. 
 Editor.
 
 arid of his Jf^ritivgs, xxiii 
 
 tirfue, is seldom stationary ; if it ceases to advance, 
 it inevitably goes backward, and speedy are the steps 
 f its receding when compared with those of its 
 advances. 
 
 " Writers, who do not belong to the first class, yet 
 are of distinguished merit, should rest conten^d with 
 the scanty praise of the few for the present, and trust 
 with confidence to posterity. He who writes well, 
 leaves a xTn/xa i^ * * behind hira. The partial and 
 veering gales of favour, though silent perhaps for 
 one century, are sure to rise in gusts in the next. 
 Truth, however tardy, is infallibly progressive, and 
 Ivith hej Avalks Justice. Let this console deserted 
 genius : those honours, which, through envy or acci- 
 dent, are withheld in one age, are sure to be repaid 
 lUrith interest, by taste and gratitude, in another. 
 These reflections were more immediately suggested 
 by the memory of Quarles, which has been branded 
 ^ith more than common abuse, and who seems often 
 to have been censured merely from the want of being 
 i^ead. If his poetry failed to gain him friends and read- 
 ers, his piety should at le^t have secured him peace 
 and good-will. He too often, no doubt, mistook the 
 enthusiasm of devotion for the inspiration of fancy; 
 to mix the waters of Jordan and Helicon in the same 
 <:up, was reserved for the hand of Milton ; and fof 
 hiia iuid hira only, to find the bays of Mount Olivet, 
 
 * Thucydid. 
 b4
 
 xxiv Account of Quarles, 
 
 equally verdant with those of Parnassus. Yet, as the 
 eflusions of a real poetical mind, however thwarted 
 by untowardness of subject, will be seldom rendered 
 totally abortive, we find in Quarles, original imager)', 
 striking sentiments, fertility of expression, and happy 
 combinations ; together with a compression of style 
 which merits the observation of the writers of verse. , 
 Gross deficiencies of judgment, and the infelicity of 
 his subjects, concurred in ruining him. Perhaps no 
 circumstance whatever can give a more complete idea 
 of Quarles's degradation, than a late edition of his 
 * Emblems :' the following passage is extracted from 
 the * Preface.' ' Mr. Francis Quarles, the author 
 of the Emblems that go under his name, was a man 
 of the most exemplary piety, and had a deep insight 
 into the mysteries of our holy religion. But for all 
 that, tlie book itself is written in so old a language, 
 that many parts of it are scarce intelligible in the 
 present age ; many of his phrases are so affected, that 
 no person who^has any taste for reading can peruse 
 them with the least degree of pleasure ; many of 
 his expressions are hars^ and sometimes whole 
 lines are included in a pirenthesis, by which the 
 mind of the reader is diverted from the prmcipal 
 object. His Latin mottos, under each cut, can be 
 of no service to an ordinary reader, because he 
 cannot underslund them. In order, therefore, to ac- 
 commodate the public with an edition of Quarles's 
 Emblems, properly modernized, this work was un-
 
 and of his Writivgs. 3^xv 
 
 dertaken.' Such an exhibition of Quarles is chain- 
 ing Columbus to an oar ; or making John Duke of 
 Marlborough, a train-band corporal. 
 
 " His * Enchiridion,' Lond. 1658, consisting of 
 select brief observations, moral and political, de- 
 serves republication, together with the best parts of 
 his other works. Had this little piece been written 
 at Athens, or at Rome, its author would have been 
 classed with the wise men of his country. 
 
 " Our author was Cup-bearer to the Queen of 
 Bohemia, Secretary to the Primate of Ireland, and 
 Chronologer to the City of I^ndon ; in the mention 
 of which latter office, his widow, in her Life of him, 
 says, * which place he held to his death, and would 
 have given that city (and the world) a testimony that 
 he was their faithful servant therein, if it had pleased 
 God to blesse him with life to perfect what he had 
 began.' His sufferings, both in mind and estate, 
 during the civil wars, were considerable. Winstanley 
 tells us he was plundered of his books and some rare 
 manuscripts, which he intended for the press, Mr. 
 Walpole and Mr. Granger have asserted that he had 
 a pension from Charles the First, though they pro- 
 duce no authority * ; it is not improbable, as the King 
 
 They were both probably led to make the assertion 
 from the following couplet of Pope : 
 
 *' The hero William, and the martyr Charles, 
 One knighted Blackmore, and one pension' d Quarles." 
 \ Imit. Hor. Ep. i. . 386-7. " 
 
 Editor.
 
 xxvi Account of Quarter, 
 
 had taste to discover merit, and generosity to reward 
 it. Wood, in mentioning a publication of Dr. 
 Burgess, which was abused by an anonymous author, 
 in a pamphlet, called, * A Whip,' and answered by 
 Quarles, styles our author, * an old puritannical poet, 
 the sometimes darling of our plebeian judgements.* 
 Philips says of his works, that * they have been ever, 
 and still are, in wonderful veneration among the 
 vulgar.' Theat. Poet. p. 45. edit. I66O. 
 
 *' His death was lamented in a copy of Alcaicks, 
 by J. Duport, Greek Professor to the University of 
 Cambridge, and one of the first writers of the tonguft 
 this country has produced. See Lloyd's Mem. p. 621. 
 Fuller's Worthies, p. SS5, In an obscure book of 
 Epigrams, by Thomas Bancroft, there is one ad- 
 dressed to Quarles, in which he intimates, that he 
 had been pre-occupied in a subject by our poet. Ep. 
 33. B. I, 1639." 
 
 |[Froin Granger's Biographical History of England, 
 vol. ii. 307. ed< 1804.3 
 
 " Francis Quarles, who was sometime Cup- 
 bearer to the Queen of Bohemia, Secretary to Arch- 
 bishop IJsher, and Chronologer to the City of Lon- 
 don^ had, at this time, a very considerable reputation 
 
 4
 
 and of his IFritings, xxvil 
 
 as a poet ; but he raeiited much more as am honest 
 and pious man. * His Emblems/ which have been 
 scrviceabk to alkire children to read, have been oftea 
 printed, and are not yet forgotten. We sometimes 
 stumble upon a pretty thought among many trivial 
 ones, in this book ; and now and then meet with 
 poetry in mechanism of the prints *. He ha 
 
 ft 
 * Mr. Pope, in one of his letters to Bishop Atterburf, 
 
 in which he incidentally mentions the vanity of the world, 
 peaks thus of our poet : " Tinnit, inane est, with the 
 picture of one ringing on the globe with his finger, is the 
 besi thing that I have the luck to remember in that great 
 poet Quarles (not that I forget the devil at bowls, which I 
 know to be your Lordship's favourite cut, as well as favour- 
 ite diversion). But the greatest part are of a very diflEereUt 
 character from these: one of them on * O wretched man that 
 I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? 
 represents^man sitting in a melancholy posture in a large 
 skeletouj/ Another, on * O that my head were waters, and 
 iny eyes a fountain of tears,' &c. exhibits a human figure, 
 with several spouts gushing from it, like the spouts of a 
 fountain. This reminds me of an Emblem which I have 
 seen in a German author, on Matth. vii. 3. in which arc 
 two men, one of whom has a beam, almost as big as himself, 
 with a picked end sticking in his left eye; and the other has 
 only a small mote sticking in his right. Hence it appears, 
 that metaphor and allegory, however beautiful in themselves, 
 will not always admit of a sensible representation." See 
 Granger, as above. 
 
 " Quarles was indebted to Herman Hugo for the hint of 
 writlag Emblems ; the earliest edition I have been able t
 
 xxviii Account of Quarles, 
 
 borrowed a considerable part of this work from the 
 * Emblems of Hermanus Hugo.' His ' Feast for 
 Worms/ and many other poems, have long been 
 
 meet with, is that published in 1633, at Antwerp, in tole- 
 rable good Latin Elegies. A translation of it appeared Lond. 
 ?686, by Edra. Arwaker, M. A. who very injudiciously 
 observes, that *Mr. Quarles only borrowed his Emblems 
 to prefix them to much inferior sense.'; The earliest edition 
 of Quarles's book that I have seen, is in 1635, all the 
 prints from the beginning of the third book, are exactly 
 copied from Hugo, but Hugo himself was not original.^ as 
 Andrew Alciat, a Milaneze lawyer, so early as 15 35, pub- 
 lished at Paris, a volume of Emblems. Thuanus gives a 
 great character of th^s writer, Hist. lib. 8. A small edi- 
 tion of Alciat's work, with the observations of C. Minos, 
 partially extracted, was published at Geneva. There is a 
 pretty thought in one of the Emblems, which consists of a 
 helmet turned into a bee-hive, and surrounded on all sides 
 with its inhabitants ; the motto is ' Ex hello pax. ^ I men- 
 tion it solely to observe, that in the Sonnet sung before 
 Queen Elizabeth, at a tilt, in the year 1590, at Westmin- 
 ster, and supposed to have been composed by the Earl of 
 sex, a thought of the same kind occurs : 
 
 My helmet noiv shall make an hive for bees. 
 And lovers songs shall turn to holy psalm.es, &c. 
 See vol. iii. Evans's Ballads. 
 " The writer of the same song, whoever he was, might 
 have been indebted for the thought to some print of the 
 kind." Headley, vol. ii. 175. 
 
 While we are on the subject of Books of Emblems, it 
 may not be irrelative to notice " A Collection of Emblemes,
 
 and of his fVntings. xxix 
 
 neglected, and are now literally worm-eaten. In the 
 time of the civil war, a petition, full of unjust ac- 
 cusation, was preferred against this worthy man, by 
 eight persons, of whom he knew not any two, but by 
 sight ; the news of this had such an effect upon him, 
 that he declared * it would be his death,' which hap- 
 pened soon after, according to his prediction. He is said 
 to have had a pension, in consideration of his writings, 
 from Charles I." Ob. 8 Sept. l644. ^t. .52. 
 
 ancient and modeme ; quickened with metrical illustrationa 
 both morall and divine : and disposed into lotteries, that 
 instruction and good counsel! may be furthered by an honest 
 and pleasant recreation. By George Wither. London, 
 folk), 1635." Witl' an engraved frontispiece. This volume, 
 which is wretchedly printed, contains 100 Emblems, en- 
 graved by Passe : the designer is unknown. Both artists have 
 done their parts well, for some of these ornaments have not 
 been eclipsed by the graphic productions of tjie last hundred 
 years. Editor.
 
 XXX 
 
 SPECIMENS 
 
 OF 
 
 QUJRLES'S POETRY. 
 
 The Shortness of Life. 
 
 AB what 's a life ?-^a weary pilgritaage. 
 Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage 
 With childhood, manhood, amj decrepit age. 
 
 And what 's a life? the flourishing array 
 Of the proud summer-meadojkV, which to-day 
 Wears her green plush, and is to-morrow hay, 
 
 Kead on this dial, how the shades devour 
 
 My short-liv'd winter's day ! hour eats up hour j 
 
 Alas ! the total 's but from eight to four. 
 
 Behold these lilies, which thy hands have made 
 
 Fair copies of my life, and open laid 
 
 To view, how soon they droop, how soon they fade ! 
 
 Shade not that dial, night will blind too soon j 
 My non-ag'd day already points to noon j 
 How simple is my suit ! how small my boon !
 
 specimens of Quarless Poetry, xxxi 
 
 Nor do I beg this slender inch to wile 
 The time away, or falsely to beguile 
 My thoughts with joy : here 's nothing worth a smile. 
 Quarles's Emllemsj B. 3. 77?. 13. 
 
 that thou wouldst hide me in the Grave, 
 that thou wouldst keep me in secret until 
 thy Wrath be past. Psalms. 
 
 Ah ! whither shall I fly ? what J)ath untrodi 
 Shall I seek out to 'scape the flaming ro(J 
 Of ray offended, of my angry God ? 
 
 "VV^here shall I sojourn ? what kind sea will hid 
 My head from thunder ? where shall I abide 
 Until his flames be quench'd, or laid aside ? 
 
 What if my feet should take their hasty flight. 
 And seek protection in the shades of night ? 
 Alas ! no shades can blind the God of Light. 
 
 What if my soul should take the wings of day. 
 And find some desert ? if she springs away, 
 ' The wings of vengeance clip as fast as they* 
 
 What if some solid rock should entertain 
 My frighted soul ? can solid rocks sustain 
 The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain f
 
 xxxii Specimens of 
 
 Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave. 
 
 Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen grave, 
 
 Where flame-ey'd fury means to smite, can save. 
 
 'T is vain to flee j till gentle Mercy shew 
 
 Her better eye, the farther off we go. 
 
 The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow. 
 
 Th' ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly 
 His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh> 
 And quenches, with his tears, her flaming eye. 
 
 Great God ! there is no safety here below ; 
 
 Thou art my fortress, thou tliat seem'st my foe, 
 
 T is thou that strik'st the stroke, must guard the blow. 
 
 Quarles's Emllems, 
 
 To Chastity, 
 
 O Chastity ! the flower of the soul. 
 
 How is thy perfect fairness turn'd to foul ! 
 
 How are thy blossoms blasted all to dust. 
 
 By sudden lightning of untamed lust ! 
 
 How hast thou thus defil'd thy iv'ry feet. 
 
 Thy sweetness that was once, how far from sweet ! 
 
 Where are thy maiden smiles, thy blushing cheek ? 
 
 Thy lamb-like countenance, so fair, so meek? 
 
 Where is that spotless flower, that while-ere 
 
 Within thy lily bosom thou didst wear ?
 
 Quarless Poetry, xxxiii 
 
 Has wanton Cupid snateh'd it ? hath his dart 
 
 Sent courtly tokens to thy simple heart ? 
 
 Where dost thou bide ? the country half disclaims thee j 
 
 The city wonders when a body names thee : 
 
 Or have the rural woods engrost thee there. 
 
 And thus forestall'd our empty markets here ? 
 
 Sure thou art not j or kept where no man shews thee ; 
 
 Or chang'd so much, scarce man or woman knows thee, 
 
 l^t. of Queen Ester, Sect. ii. Med. 2. 
 
 Hven as the soil i(which April's gentle showers 
 
 Have fiU'd with sweetness, and enrich'd with flowers) 
 
 Rears up her suckling plants, still shooting forth 
 
 The tender blossoms of her timely birth. 
 
 But if denied the beams of cheerly May, 
 
 They hang their wither'd heads and fede away j 
 
 So man, assisted by th' Almight}''s hand. 
 
 His faith does flourish, and securely stand ; 
 
 But left awhile, forsook (as in a shade) 
 
 It languishes, and, nipt with sin, doth fade. 
 
 Joh MilitaTit, Med. 6. 
 
 As -vdien a lady (walking Flora's bower) 
 Picks here a pink, and there a gillyflower. 
 Now plucks a violet from her purple bed, 
 And then a primrose (the year's maidenhead). 
 There nips the brier, here the lover's pansy. 
 Shifting here dainty pleasures with her fancy.
 
 xxxir Specimens of 
 
 This on her arm, and that she lists to wear 
 Upon the borders of her curious hairj 
 JLt length, a rose-bud (passing all the rest) 
 She plucks, and bosoms in her lily breast. 
 
 Hist, of Queen Esters Sect. 6, 
 
 Even as a hen (whose tender brood forsake 
 The downy closet of her wings, and take 
 Each its affected way) marks how tliey feed. 
 This on that crumb, and that on t'other seed ; 
 Moves as they move, and stays when as they stay. 
 And seems delighted in their infant play ; 
 Yet fearing danger, with a busy eye 
 Looks here and there, if aught she can espy 
 Which unawares might snatch a booty from her. 
 Eyes all that pass, and watches every comer 5 
 Bven so the affection, &c. 
 
 Joh Mil. Sect. 1. 
 
 Like as the haggard *, cloister'd in her mew 
 To scour her downy robes, and to renew 
 
 * Haggard h^re means ** a haggard hawk" a wild ua- 
 reclaimed hawk " Haggart falcons are the most excellent 
 birds of all other falcons," says Tubervile. See Steevens's 
 ingenious note on the word haggardt in Othello; Ed. 
 Shaksp. 1803. vol.xix. 387. Editor.
 
 Quarles's Poetry, xxxv 
 
 Her broken flags, preparing t' overlook 
 The tim'rous mallard at her sliding brook. 
 Jets oft from perch to perch, from stock to ground. 
 From ground to window, thus surveying round 
 Her dove-befeather'd prison till at length 
 Calling her noble birth to mind, and strength 
 Whereto her wing was born, her ragged beak 
 Nips off her jangling jesses *, strives to break 
 Her gingling fetters, and begins to bate 
 At every glimpse, and darts at every grate. 
 
 Eml. i. 3 B. 
 
 Even as the needle that directs the hour 
 (Touch'd with the loadstone) by the secret power 
 Of hidden Nature, points upon the pole j 
 Even so the wavering powers of my soul, 
 Touch'd by the virtue of the Spirit, flee 
 From what is earth, and point alone to Thee f . 
 
 Joh Mil. 4 Med. 
 
 From Headlev's Select Beauties, &c. 
 
 * " Jesses are short straps of leather tied about the foot 
 of a hawk, by which she is held on the fist," says Sir Tt 
 Hammer. Vide Shaksp. ed. 1803, vol. xix, 387. 
 
 Editor. 
 f " In the beautiful song of * Sweet William's Farewell,' 
 the sailor, with propriety, adopts a nautical term from hia 
 own art 
 
 " Change as ye list, ye winds ; my heart shall be 
 The faithful compass that still points to thee." 
 
 Headlev. 
 c2
 
 xxxvi Specimens of 
 
 " In perusing Quarles," says Headley, " I hav 
 occasionally observed that he has sometimes taken 
 thoughts from the works of Lord Sterline, but the 
 passages were hardly worth noticing/' 
 
 The following Specimens are taken from Quarles*s 
 " Divine Poems ;" the second edition of which ap- 
 peared in 1680; ^ fifth y in 1717. They are quoted 
 from the former edition. 
 
 
 
 From iJie Perktelogia, 
 
 [In the arae.J 
 
 Mors Tua, 
 
 Can he be fair, that withers at a blast ? 
 Or he be strong, that airy breath can cast ? 
 Can he be wise, that knows not how to live ? 
 Or he be rich, that nothing hath to give ? 
 Can he be young, that 's feeble, weak, and wan ? 
 So fair, strong, wise, so rich, so young is man. 
 So fair is man, that de(*h ^a parting blast) 
 Blasts his fair flower, and rti&kes him earth at last j 
 So strong is man, that with a gasping breath 
 He totters, and bequeaths his strength to death j 
 So wise is man, that if with death he strive> 
 His wisdom cannot teach him how to livet jj. 
 
 4
 
 Qu^rle^^s Poetry. xxxvii 
 
 So rich is man, that (all his debts being paid) 
 His wealth 's the winding-sheet wherein he 's laid j 
 So young is man, that, broke with care and sorrow. 
 He 's old enough to-day, to die to-morrow : 
 Whv bragg'st thou then, thou worm of five foot long i 
 Thou 'rt neither fair, nor strong, nor wise, nor rich, nor 
 young. , 
 
 From Job Militant, 
 [In^the same.] 
 
 The Digestion of the whole History, 
 
 1. In Prosperity, 
 
 Thou, whose lank fortunes Heaven hath swell'd with 
 
 store. 
 Make not thyself, by over-wishing, poor : 
 Husband that good, which else abuse makes bad. 
 Abstracting where thy base desire would add : 
 
 Lines flowing from Sophoclean quill 
 
 Deserve no plaudit, being acted ill. 
 
 i. Tn Adversity. 
 
 Hath Heaven withdrawn the talent he hath given thee? 
 
 Haih envious death of all thy sons bereaven thee ? 
 
 Have foul diseases foil'd thee on the floor? 
 
 He earns no sweet, that never tasted sour : 
 Thou art a scholar : if thy tutor do 
 Fose thee too hard, he will instruct thee to0. 
 c3
 
 xxxviii Specimens of 
 
 3. Jn Temptation. 
 
 Art thou oppos'd to thy unequal foe ? 
 March bravely on, thy General bids thee go j 
 Thou art Heaven's champion, to maintain his right j 
 "Who calls thee forth will give thee strength to fight. 
 God seeks by conquest thy renown j for He 
 Will win enough, fight thou, or faint, or flee. 
 
 4. In Slander, 
 
 If winter fortunes nip thy summer friends. 
 And tip their tongues with censure that offends 
 Thy tender fame, despair not, but be wise; 
 Know, Heaven selecteth whom the world denies : 
 Thou hast a milk-white Tkisle that is with thee^ 
 Will take thy part when all the world 's against thee. 
 
 S. In Re-advancement. 
 
 Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desire ? 
 Be still the same ; fear lower, aim no higher : 
 Man's play hath many scenes, but in the last. 
 Heaven knits up all; to sweeten all that's past. 
 Affliction is a rod to scourge us home, 
 A painful earnest of a heaven to come *. 
 
 * " To the Reader" 
 [Prefixed to his * History of Sampson,' p. 2^3' '" the same 
 
 ** The tyranny of my affairs was never yet so imperious, 
 but I could steal some hours to my private meditations ; the 
 fruits of which stolen time, I here present thee with, in
 
 Quarless Poetry, xxxix 
 
 From Sioris J^le^ies: 
 
 [In the same.] 
 
 / 
 Eleg. XVIII. 
 
 So the quick-scented beagles, in a view. 
 O'er hill and dale the fleeting chase pursue. 
 As swift-foot death and ruin follow me. 
 That flees afraid, yet knows not where to flee : 
 
 * The History of Sampson.' Wherein, if thy extreme se- 
 verity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not 
 stand with the majesty of this sacred subject, know, that 
 my intention was not to offend my brother. The wisest of 
 kings, inspired by the King of Wisdom, thought it no de- 
 traction from the gravity of his holy Proverbs, to describe 
 a harlot like a harlot ; her whoreish attire ; her immodest 
 gesture ; her bold countenance ; her flattering tongue ; her 
 lascivious embraces ; her unchaste kisses ; her impudent 
 invitations : if my descriptions in the like kind offend, I 
 make no question but the validity of my warrant will give a 
 reasonable satisfaction. He that lifts not his feet high enough, 
 may easily stumble: but on the contrary, if any be, whose 
 worse than sacrilegious minds shall profane our harmless 
 intentions with wanton conceits, to such I heartily wish a 
 
 * Proculite.' Let none such look farther than this Epistle 
 at their own perils ; if they do, let them put off their 
 shoes, for this is * Holy Ground.' Foul hands will muddle 
 the clearest waters, and base minds will corrupt the purest 
 text. If any offence be taken, it is by way of stealth, for 
 there is none wiUingly given. I write to Bees, and not to 
 
 c4
 
 xl specimens of 
 
 Flee to the fields ? there with the sword I meet j 
 And like a watch, death stands in every stxeet j 
 No cover hides from death") no shades, no cells 
 So dark, wherein not death and horror dwells ; 
 Our days are number' d, and our numbers done. 
 The empty hour-glass of our glory 's run 5 
 Our sins are summ'd, and so extreme 's the score^ 
 That Heaven could not do less, nor bell do more. 
 
 Funeral Elegies, 
 [In the same.] 
 
 Eleg. VIII. 
 
 Had virtue, learning, the diviner arts. 
 
 Wit, judgment, wisdom (or what otfc^ parts 
 
 That make perfection, and return the mind 
 
 As great as earth can suffer), been confin'd 
 
 To earth had they the patent to abide 
 
 Secure from change, our Ailmbe * ne'er had died. 
 
 m . " < 
 
 Spiders ; they will suck pleasing honey from such flowers ; 
 those may burst with their own poison ; but you, whose 
 well-seasoned hearts are not distempered with either ot 
 these extremities, but have the better relish of a sacred 
 understanding, draw near and read." 
 
 * " He was one, whose life and death made as full and 
 perfect a story of worth and goodness, as earth would suffer ; 
 and whose pregnant virtues deserve as faithful a register, as 
 earth can keep." Quarles to his **Readerh" prefixed to 
 the above Funeral Elegic8
 
 Quarles's Poetry, xli 
 
 Tond Earth forbear, and let thy childish eyes 
 
 Ne'er weep for him thou ne'ef^itnew'st how to prize j 
 
 Shed not a tear, blind Earth, for it appears 
 
 Thou never lov'dst our Ailmer, by thy tears j 
 
 Or if thy floods must needs o'erflow their brim. 
 
 Lament, lament thy blindness, and not him. 
 
 Eleg. XIII. 
 
 No, no, he is not dead ; the naouth of fame. 
 Honour's shrill herald, would preserve his name. 
 And make it live, in spight of death and dust. 
 Were there no other Heaven, no other trust. 
 He is not dead ; the sacred Nine deny 
 The soul that merits fame should ever die. 
 He lives j and when the latest breath of fame 
 Shall want her trump to glorify a name. 
 He shall survive, and these self-closed eyes 
 That now lie slumbVing in the dust, shall rise. 
 And, fili'd with endless gloiy, shall enjoy 
 The perfect vision of eternal joy *. 
 
 * This tautology appears to have escaped our poet. Tha 
 above " Sion and Funeral Elegies" are composed in such a 
 manner, that each begins with the letter of the alphabet in 
 succession as far as Y. There are some beautiful passages 
 in the " Sion Sonnets^' composed in eight-line stanzas. 
 
 EWTOR.
 
 xlii Speeimem of 
 
 From his Elegy on Lady Luckyn *, 
 [In the same.] 
 
 Had she been only that which serves to raise 
 The name of woman to a common height ; 
 
 Had she been only that, which, now-a-days. 
 With some allowance, makes perfection weight; 
 
 She had deserv'd her share of common praise. 
 Perchance, and had been priz'd above her rate : 
 
 * There is something very pleasing in the short epistle 
 prefixed to this Elegy. 
 
 * To my honourable and dear Friend Sir William 
 Luckyn, Baronet. 
 sir, 
 
 " To whom can these leases owe themselves, 
 bat TcM ? whose the author is, and to whom the blessed 
 life and death of this sainted lady hath been, and is (to my 
 knowledge) a religious and. continued meditation. She was 
 yours; and the terms whereon you parted with her, was 
 no ill bargain. Having a double Interest (and, in that, a 
 treble blessing) for more than tweWe years, could you ex- 
 pect less than to lose the Principal? But Almighty 
 God hath shewn himself so gracious a dealer, that we look 
 for extraordinary pennyworths at his bountiful hand. Your 
 wisdom knows practically that our affections must keep 
 silence, when bit <will is the speaker. He knew her fitter 
 for Heaven than earth, and therefore transplanted her. 
 He found her full ripe, and therefore "gathered her. J 
 piesent what here is to you, wherein you Khali rcceivf but
 
 Quarless Toetry, xliii 
 
 But she was all j her substance had no scum : 
 She was a perfect quintessence, in whom 
 All other items metj and made one total sum. 
 
 Stanza viii f . 
 
 the self-same by number, and by measure, which before 
 you had by 'weight. Be pleased to accept it from the hand 
 of him that makes a relique of her memory, and is 
 *' Your most affectionate friend to serve you, 
 
 'F. QUARLES.'* 
 
 f The following is in a different strain, but it shews the 
 peculiarity of Quarles's fancy ; 
 
 Quick-finger'd Death 's impartial ; and lets fly 
 
 Her shafts at all, but aims with fouler spite 
 At fairer marks; she, now and then, shoots by 
 
 And hits a fool j but, levelling at the white. 
 She often pricks the Eagle in the eye. 
 
 And spares the carcass of the flagging kite; 
 Queens drop away, when blue-leg^d Maukin lives ; 
 
 Drones thiive when bees are burnt within iheir hives; 
 And courtly Mitdred dies, when country Madgt survive*. 
 
 Froro the above.]]
 
 xYir Specimens of 
 
 Her Epitaph, 
 
 We boast no virtues, and we beg no tears j 
 
 O reader j if thou hast but eyes and ears. 
 
 It is enough j but tell me, why 
 
 Thou com'st to gaze?, is it to pry 
 
 Into our cost? or borrow 
 
 A copy of our sorrow ? 
 
 Or, dost thou come 
 
 To learn to die. 
 Not knowing whom 
 
 To practise by ? 
 
 If this be thy desire> 
 
 Thgn draw thee one step nigher ; 
 
 Here lies a precedent a rarer 
 
 Earth never shew'd ; nor Heaven a fairer. 
 
 She was ^but room forbids to tell thee what 
 
 Sura all perfection up, and she was *Aaf. 
 
 Editos. 
 
 I shall conclude these Specimens of Quatles's 
 Poetry with the following from Mr. Ellis's " Speci- 
 mens of Early English Poets,'* vol. iii. 122. It 
 is the only one given by this gentleman, and as it 
 happens to be of quite a different * nature from the 
 preceding, I subjoin it with the greater readiness. 
 
 * So much so, as to excite a doubt in my mind, whe- 
 ther his son John, who, from Wood's account, was a 
 writer as well as a lovei^ of poetry, may not be the author 
 of it. Consult Wood's ^tbea. Oxon. vol. ii. col. ZSS-
 
 Quarless Poetry. xIt 
 
 It is extracted from his ** Shepherd's Oracles," 
 4to. 1646 ; and describes, with some humour, the 
 state of the Puritans. 
 
 Song of Anarchus, 
 
 Know then, my brethren. Heaven Is clear^ 
 
 And all the clouds ar^one 5 
 The righteous now shall flourish, and 
 
 Good days are coming on. 
 Come then, my brethren, and be glad. 
 
 And eke lejoice with me j 
 Lawn sleeves and rochets shall go down. 
 
 And hey ! then up go we ! 
 
 "We '11 break the windows which the Whort 
 
 Of Babylon hath painted j 
 And when the Popish saints are down^ 
 
 Then Barrow shall be sainted. 
 There 's neither cross nor crucifix 
 
 Shall stand for man to see j 
 Rome's trash and trumperies shall go down. 
 
 And hey ! then up go we ! 
 
 We '11 down with all the 'Farsities * 
 
 Where learning is profess' d. 
 Because they practise and maintain, 
 
 The language of the Beast. 
 
 The Universities.
 
 Tlvi specimens of 
 
 We '11 drive the doctors out of doors. 
 And arts, whatever they be j 
 
 "We '11 cry both arts and learning down. 
 And hey ! then up go we ! 
 
 If once that Anti-christian crew 
 
 Be crush'd and overthrown. 
 We '11 teach the nobles how to crouch. 
 
 And keep the gentry down. 
 Good manners have an ill report. 
 
 And turn to pride, we see ; 
 We 'U therefore cry good manners down. 
 
 And hey ! then up go we ! 
 
 The name of lord shall be abhorr'd. 
 
 For every man 's a brother j 
 No reason why, in Church, or State, 
 
 One man should rule another. 
 But when the change of government 
 
 Shall set our fingers free. 
 We '11 make the wanton Sister stoop. 
 
 And hey ! then up go we ! 
 
 Our coblers shall translate their souls 
 
 From caves obscure and shady j 
 We '11 make Tom T. as good as my lord. 
 
 And Joan as good as my lady. 
 We '11 crush and fling the marriage ring 
 
 Into the Roman See-y 
 We '11 ask no bands, but e'en clap hands. 
 
 And hey ! then up go we !
 
 Quarless Poetry, xlvii 
 
 I am not prepared to go quite the length of Dr. 
 Jackson*, in commendation of Quarles's Poetry, 
 though I am firmly convinced it merits not one half of 
 the censure which the pedantry of Pope and of others 
 has bestowed upon it. A Volume of Quarles's 
 Poems would not probably be very kindly received 
 by the public : but it is hoped that the foregoing 
 Specimens will be considered as an acceptable gift. 
 
 Editor. 
 * In his Thirty Letters," &c.
 
 GENERAL OBSERVATIONS, 
 
 The reader is now in possession not only of the 
 remarks of various critics on the merits and de- 
 hierits of Quarles, but of such Specimens of the 
 author's compositions as may induce him to form 
 his own unbiassed opinion. 
 
 It is not my wish to speak of this writer in a strain 
 of unqualified panegyric ; though I feel confident, that, 
 with those who can relish the genius of Jeeemt 
 Taylor, or the energy of Sir Thomas Browne, 
 the ensuing pages will not be read with apathy or dis- 
 appointment. The periods of Quarles are some- 
 times balanced with a nicety and precision which 
 Johnson might not have disdained to adopt ; and his 
 images of virtue and of vice are so happily conceived, 
 and forcibly expressed, that we immediately turn 
 with rapture towards the former, and with abhorrence 
 from the latter. Perhaps there is no other instance 
 of a writer before Milton, who, in the language of 
 Cowper's encomium of Sydney, may be more justly 
 called a 
 
 ' warbler of poetic prose. 
 
 As Quarles's plan will be found to be entirely 
 novel, so is the execution of it equally happy. It 
 may be difficult to discover, in the whole compass of 
 English literature, the characteristics of vice or of 
 weakness more forcibly displayed, or the consolations 
 oi religion more .efficaciously administered.
 
 General Observations. xlix 
 
 These beauties may however, in some places, appear 
 to be tarnished by a style too luxuriantly metaphorical 
 for the simplicity of devout compositions: and that 
 excessive love of antithesis *, which the author 
 evinces in almost every page, may produce a kind 
 of artificial effect which should never arise from pe- 
 rusing the effusions of the heart. But these defects 
 are venial, and are connected rather with matters of 
 taste and criticism, than of genius and talent. The 
 reader will never meet with poverty of fancy, or 
 feebleness of expression, in the periods of Quarles. 
 
 True it is, some passages may appear to savour a little 
 of those principles now technically called evangelical \ 
 but it must be remembered that they were written by 
 their author with other feelings, and other motives, 
 than those by which the present evangelical Sectarists 
 seem to be actuated. 
 
 That Quarles had the most upright notions, and a 
 proper sense of the relationship between man and his 
 
 * I incline to think that Quarles had, in some measure, 
 studied the periods of" SirWm. Cornwallyes, the younger. 
 Knight ;" the most complete edition of whose " Essayes'*' 
 was published in a small octavo volume, in 163a, with a 
 curious frontispiece of the Father and Son, sitting at their 
 studies. There is a terseness and antithesis in Comwallis, 
 occasionally not unlike Quarles. These Essays deserve re- 
 publication ; and one is rather surprised not to find an ex- 
 tract from them among Mr. Burnett's " Specimens of Eng- 
 lish Prose Writers." For some particulars relating to 
 Cortiwallis, see Granger's Biog. Hist. Eng. vol. xi. 333-4. 
 ed. 1S04. 
 
 4.
 
 1 Gener'al Observations. 
 
 Redeemer, is evident from the following Prayer : a 
 Prayer, which is not only distinguishable for the 
 beauty and correctness of its language, but to which 
 no sincere lover of our excellent Church Establish- 
 ment can refuse his " Aram" 
 
 *' Lord, if thy mercy exceeded not my misery, I 
 could look for no compassion ; and if thy grace trans- 
 cended not my sin, I could expect for nothing but con- 
 fusion. Oh, thou that madest me of nothing, renew 
 me, that have made myself far less than nothing j revive 
 those sparkles in my soul which lust hath quenched; 
 cleanse thine image in me which my sin hath blurred j 
 enlighten my understanding with thy truth ; rectify 
 my judgment with thy word 3 direct my will with thy 
 Spirit; strengthen my memory to retain good things j 
 order my affections that I may love thee above all things j 
 increase my faith 3 encourage my hope ; quicken my 
 charity ; sweeten my thoughts with thy grace ; season 
 my words witli thy Spirit ; sanctify my actions with thy 
 wisdom ; subdue the insolence of my rebellious flesh j 
 restrain the fury of my unbridled passions ; reform the 
 frailty of my comipted nature j incline my heart to de- 
 sire what is good, and bless my endeavours that I may 
 do what I desire. Give me a true knowledge of myself, 
 9nd make me sensible of mine own infirmities ; let not 
 the sense of those mercies which I enjoy, blot out of 
 my remembrance those miseries which I deserve that 
 I m^ay be truly thankful for the one, and humbly peni- 
 tent for the other, In all my afflictions keep me from
 
 General Observations, li 
 
 despair; in all my deliverances preserve me from in 
 gratitude 3 that being timely quickened with the sense 
 of thy goodness^ and truly humbled by the sight of 
 min own weakness, I may be here exalted by the vir 
 tue of thy grace, and hereafter advanced to the king- 
 dom of thy glory." 
 
 Vide post, " The Humble Maw," p. 236. 
 
 We cannot suppose the Secretary of Usher to 
 have been a mere enthusiast : those, therefore, who 
 may be inclined to admire only the effusions of 
 Quarles's fancy, will do well to consider the extent 
 pf his erudition, and the sincerity of his endeavours 
 to reform th depravity of the human heart. 
 
 Editob. 
 
 dl
 
 FOR 
 
 AFFLICTED SOULS; 
 
 OB, 
 
 Meditations, Soliloquies, and Prayers^ 
 
 By FRANCIS QUARLES. 
 
 IJHr TWO PARTS. 
 
 d3
 
 ^MW 
 
 
 
 f.^^'irtt%^' '^^^ /vn--\Avxd 
 
 . .;^ 
 
 .3ajiU:iiv) eiO^'lnH.. 
 
 j:.iA>i K.Yr-1 %'
 
 TO 
 
 MY MOST GRACIOUS SOVEREIGN 
 KING CHARLES [I.] 
 
 SIR, 
 
 I BELIEVE you to be such a patron of 
 virtue, that if this Treatise had the 
 least probability of cherishing vice, my 
 countenance durst not admit a thought 
 of this Dedication to Your Majesty. 
 
 But my own reason (seconded by 
 better approbations) assures me these 
 Disquisitions and Prayers are Hke to 
 beget grace in those where it was not, 
 .and to confirm it where it was. 
 
 And being so useful, I dare not doubt 
 
 your patronage of this Child, which 
 d4
 
 Ivi DEDICATION TO CHARLES I. 
 
 survives a Father whose utmost abilities 
 were (till death darkened that great 
 light in his soul) sacrificed to your 
 service. 
 
 But, if I could question your willing 
 protection of it, I might strengthen my 
 petition for it, by an unquestionable 
 commendation of the author's published 
 Meditations, in most of which (even 
 those of Poetry begun in his youth) 
 there are such tinctures of piety, and 
 pictures of devout passions, as gained 
 him much love, and many noble friends, 
 
 ' One of that number (which is not to 
 
 be numbei'ed) was the religious, learned, 
 
 peaceable, humble Bishop of Armagh ; 
 
 whom I beseech God to bless, and make 
 
 Your Majesty and him, in these bad, 
 
 4
 
 DEDICATION TO CHARLES I. Ivii 
 
 sad times, instruments of good to this 
 distracted, distempered. Church and 
 State. 
 
 This is my unfeigned prayer: and I 
 doubt not but all that wish well to Sion 
 will seal it with their Amen, 
 
 Your Majesty's poor 
 
 And most faithful Subject, 
 . RICHARD ROYS') JN.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 [OF RICHARD ROYSTON.] 
 
 READER, 
 
 It is thought Jit to say this little, an^ 
 but this little, of the Author and his 
 book. 
 
 He was (for I speak to those that ar 
 strangers to his extraction and breeding) 
 a branch of a deserving family, and the 
 
 son of a ivorthy father : his education 
 was in the Universities and Inns of Court ^ 
 hut his inclination was rather to divine 
 
 studies than the laiv. 
 
 This appears in most of Ms published 
 
 books f which are many J, but I think in 
 
 xoNE more than this, which was finished 
 
 with his life.
 
 1x ORIGINAL PREFACE. 
 
 IFherein the reader may behold (ojc- 
 cording to the arguments undertaken by 
 the author) what passions, and in what 
 degrees those passions, have possessed 
 his soul ; and whether grace have yet 
 allayed or expelled tJiem (those that are 
 inconsistible with virtue) from the strong 
 hold of his affections. 
 
 Such this IVeati^e is, and being such, 
 I commend it to the reader, and this 
 wish with it, that those many ftoo many) 
 writers who mistake malice for zeal, and 
 (being transported) speak evil of govern- 
 ment, and meddle with things they un- 
 derstand not (Jude, viii. 10.); forgetting 
 there are such sins as sedition and heresj 
 (sins which Saint Paul, Gal. v. 20, 21. 
 parallels with murder and witchcraft), 
 would change their disputes into devout 
 meditations, such as these be ; in which
 
 ORIGINAL PREFACE. 1x1 
 
 the pious man shall see virtue adorned 
 with beautiful language, and vice so 
 presented, as it is not like to infect the 
 mind, nor corrupt the conscience. 
 
 The method, the arguments, the style, 
 all speak Mr, Quarles the author of the 
 hook; and the book speaks his com- 
 mendations so much, that I need not 
 commend it ; hut I do thee, to God, 
 
 Farewell,
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 The Sensual Man Pcig^ 1 
 
 The fain- glorious Man ..... 9 
 
 The Oppressor 1 7 
 
 The Drunkard . 26 
 
 The Swearer 34 
 
 The Procrastinator ....... 42 
 
 The Hypocrite ^ 51 
 
 The Ignorant Man 59 
 
 The Slothful Man . 68 
 
 The Proud Man "jy 
 
 The Covetous Man .86 
 
 The Self-lover 94 
 
 The Worldly Man 103 
 
 The Lascivious Man Ill 
 
 The Sabbath-breaker 11 9 
 
 The Censorious Alan 128 
 
 The Liar 136 
 
 The Revengeful Man . * . . . .145 
 
 The Secure Man , 154 
 
 The Presumptuous Man . , . . . l63
 
 Ixiv CONTENTS. 
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 The Weary Man Page 1^5 
 
 The Sinner 183 
 
 The Poor Man . . . . . . . IQl 
 
 The Forgetful Man I99 
 
 The Widow 207 
 
 The Afflicted Man . . * . . .215 
 
 The Deserted Man 223 
 
 The Humble Man 230 
 
 The Sinner 238 
 
 Sion 245 
 
 The Mourner 253 
 
 The Serpent " 26 1 
 
 The Sinner 268 
 
 The Faithful Man 276 
 
 The Fearful Man 284 
 
 The Plague-affrighted Man .... 292 
 
 The Persecuted Man 300 
 
 The Sinner 308 
 
 The Sinner . 3l6 
 
 Th Good Man 324
 
 JUj:)GMENT AND MERCY, 
 
 (&C. 
 
 PART THE FIRST. 
 
 THE SENSUAL MAN, 
 
 His Solace. 
 
 Come, let us be merry, and rejoice our 
 souls, in frolic and in fresh delights : 
 let us screw our pampered hearts a pitch 
 beyond the reach pf dull-browed sor- 
 row : let us pass the slow-paced time 
 in melancholy charming piirth, and take 
 the advantage pf our youtl:|ful days: let 
 us banish care to the d^ad sea of phleg- 
 matic old age : let a deep sigh be high 
 treason, and let a solemn look be ad- 
 judged a crime too great for pardon. 
 My serious studies shall be to drayy" mirth 
 into a body, to analise laughter, and to 
 pa^-aphi-ase upon the various texts of all 
 
 B
 
 2 THE SENSUAL MAN. 
 
 delights. Mj recreations shall be to still 
 pleasure into a quintessence, to reduce 
 beauty to her first principles, and to ex- 
 tract a perfect innocence from the milk- 
 white doves of Venus. Why should I 
 spend my precious minutes in the sullen 
 and dejected shades of sadness P or ravel 
 out my short-lived days in solemn and 
 heart-breaking carcf Hours have eagles- 
 wings, and when their hasty flight shall 
 put a period to our numbered days, the 
 world is gone with us, and all our for- 
 gotten joys are left to be enjoyed by 
 the succeeding generations, and we are 
 snatched we know not how, we know 
 not whither; and wrapt in the dark 
 bosom of eternal night. Come then, 
 my soul, be wise; make use of that 
 which gone, is past recalling, and lost, 
 is past redemption : eat thy bread with 
 a merry heart, and gulp down care 
 in frolic cups of liberal wine. Be- 
 guile the tedious nights with dalliance.
 
 THE SENSUAL MAN. 3 
 
 &nd steep thy stupid senses in unctuous, 
 in delightful sports. 'Tis all the por- 
 tion that this transitory world can give 
 thee. Let music, voices, masks, and 
 midnight revels, and all tliat melan- 
 choly wisdom censures vain, be thy de- 
 lights. And let thy care-abjuring soul 
 cheer up, and sweeten the short days of 
 thy consuming youth. Follow the ways 
 of thy own heart, and take the freedom 
 of thy sweet desires ; leave not delight 
 untried, and spare no cost to heighten 
 up thy lusts, Take pleasure in the 
 choice of pleasures, and please thy cu- 
 rious eyes with all varieties, to satisfy 
 thy soul in all things which thy heart 
 desires. Ay, but, my soul, when those 
 evil days shall come wherein thy wasting 
 pleasures shall present their items to thy 
 bedrid view rwhen all diseases and the 
 evils of age shall muster up their forces 
 in thy crazy bones, where be thy com* 
 forts then ? 
 
 B 2
 
 '4 ^HE SENSUAL MAN. 
 
 Consider, O mj soul, and know that 
 
 day will come, and after that, another, 
 
 wherein, for all these things, 
 
 God ivill bring thee to judgment, Ec-" 
 
 cles. xi. g. 
 
 Prov. xiv. 13. 
 
 JEven in laughter the heart is sorroiufult 
 a?id the end of that mirth is heavi- 
 ness, 
 
 Eccles. ii. 2. 
 
 J said in my hearty Go to now, I ivill 
 prove thee tvith mirth, and therefore 
 enjoy pleasure, and behold this also is 
 vanity: I said of laughter. It is 
 mad ; and of' mirth, fFhat doth it P 
 St. James. 
 
 Ye have lived in pleasure on the earth, 
 and been wanton ; ye have nourished 
 your hearts as in the day of slaughter, 
 Eccles. vii. 4. 
 
 The heart of the ivise man is in the house 
 of mourning : but the heart of fools ?V 
 in the house of mirth.
 
 THE SENSUAL MAJf^ ^ 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 What hast thou now to say, O my 
 soul, v/hy this judgment, seconded with 
 divine proofs, backed with the har- 
 mony of holy men, should not proceed 
 against thee? Dally no longer with thy 
 own salvation, nor flatter thy own cor- 
 ruption : remember, the wages of flesh 
 are sin, and the wages of sin, death, 
 God hath threatened it, whose judgments 
 are terrible: God hath witnessed it, 
 whose words are truth. Consider then, 
 my soul, and let not momentarypleasares 
 flatter thee into eternity of torments. 
 How many, that have trod thy steps, 
 are now roaring in the flames of hell ! 
 and yet thou triflest away the time of 
 thy repentance. O my poor deluded 
 soul, presume no longer; repent to- 
 day, lest to-morrow come too late. Or 
 couldest thou ravel out thy days beyond
 
 C TftE SEKSUAL MAN. 
 
 Methusalem, tell me, alas! what will 
 eternity be the shorter for the deduction 
 of a thousand years ? Be wisely provi- 
 dent therefore, O my soul, and bid va- 
 nity, the common sorceress of the world, 
 farewell : life and death are yet before 
 thee : choose life, and the God of life 
 will seal thy choice. Prostrate thyself 
 before Him who delights not in the death 
 bf a sinner, and present thy petitions to 
 Him who can deny thee nothing in the 
 name of a Saviour. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, in the beauty of whose holiness 
 is the true Joy of those that love thee, 
 the full happiness of those that fear thee, 
 and the only rest of those that prize thee ; 
 in respect of which the transitory plea- 
 sures of the world are less than nothing; 
 in comparison of which the greatest wis- 
 dom of the world is folly, and the glory
 
 *riit st^sVAL Man. 7 
 
 bf the earth but dross and dung: how 
 dare my boldness thus presume to press 
 into thy glorious presence ? What can 
 3my prayers expect but thy just wrath 
 and heavy indignation ? Oh ! what return 
 can the tainted breath of my polluted 
 lips deserve, but to be bound hand and 
 foot, and cast into the flames of hell ? 
 But, Lord, the merits of my Saviour 
 are greater than the offences of a sin- 
 ner, and the sweetness of thy mercy 
 exceeds the sharpness of my misery: 
 the horror of thy judgments has seized 
 tipon me, and I languish through the 
 Isense of thy displeasure; I have for- 
 isaken thee, the rest of my distressed 
 soul, and set my affections upon the 
 vanity of the deceitful world. I have 
 taken pleasure in my foolishness, and 
 have vaunted myself in mine iniquity ; 
 I have flattered my soul with the honey 
 of delights, whereby I am made sensible 
 of the sting of my affliction ; wherefore 
 B 4 ,
 
 $ ' THE SENSUAL MAST. 
 
 I loath and utterly abhor myself, and 
 from the bottom of my heart repent in 
 dust and ashes. Behold, O Lord, I am 
 impure and vile, and have wallowed in 
 the puddle of mine own corruptions; 
 the sword of thy displeasure is drawn 
 out against me, and what shall I plead, 
 O thou Preserver of mankind? Make me 
 a new creature, O my God, and destroy 
 the old man within me. Remove my 
 affections from the love of transitory 
 things, that I may run the way of thy 
 commandments. Turn away mine eye 
 from beholding vanity, and make thy 
 testimonies my whole delight. Give 
 me strength to discern the emptiness of 
 the creature, and inebriate my heart 
 with the fulness of thy joys. Be thou 
 my portion, O God, at whose right 
 hand stand pleasures for evermore. Be 
 thou my refuge and my shield, and suf- 
 fer me not to sink under the corrup- 
 tions of my heart J let not the house 
 5
 
 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS MAIT. Q 
 
 of mirth beguile me; but give me a 
 sense of the evil to come. Accept the 
 free-will offerings of my mouth, and 
 grant my petitions for the honour of 
 thy Name; then will I magnify thy mer- 
 cies, O God, and praise thy Name for 
 ever and ever. 
 
 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS MAN. 
 
 His Vaunt, 
 
 What tellest thou me of conscience, or 
 a pious life ? They are good trades for a 
 leaden spirit that can stand bent at every 
 frown, and want the brains to make a 
 higher fortune, or courage to achieve 
 that honour which might glorify their 
 names, and write their memories in the 
 chronicles of fame. 'Tis true, humility 
 is a needful gift in those that have no 
 quality to exercise their pride ; and pa-
 
 lo 1E VAm-GLORlOUS MA5r. 
 
 tience is a necessary grace to keep the 
 world in peace, and him that hath it 
 in a whole skin, and often proves a vir- 
 tue born of mere necessity. And civil 
 honesty is a fair pretence for him that 
 hath not wit to act the knave, and makes 
 a man capable of a little higher style than 
 fool. And blushing modesty is a pretty 
 innocent quality, and serves to vindicate 
 an easy nature from the imputation af 
 an ill breeding. These are inferior 
 graces, that have got a good opinion in 
 the dull wisdom of the world, and ap- 
 pear like water among the elements, to 
 moderate the body politic, and keep it 
 from combustion ; nor do they come 
 into the work of honour. Virtue con- 
 sists in action, and the reward of action 
 is glory. Glory is the great soul of the 
 little world, and is the crown of all sub- 
 Kme attempts, and the point whereto 
 the crooked ways of policy are all con- 
 centric. Honour consults not with a
 
 rkE VAi?^-GLoRiotri5 MAN/ ii 
 
 pious life. Let those that are ambitidu^ 
 of a religious reputation abjure all ho- 
 nourable titles, and let their dough-baked 
 spirits take a pride in sufferance (the 
 anvil of all injuries), and be thankfully 
 baffled into a quiet pilgrimage. Rapes, 
 murders, treasons, dispossessions, riots, 
 are venial things to men of honour, and 
 often coincident in high pursuits. Had 
 my dull conscience stood upon such nice 
 points, that little honour I have won. 
 had glorified some other arm, and left 
 me begging morsels at his princely gates- 
 Come, come, my soul. Id factum juvat 
 quod fieri non licet. Fear not' to do, 
 what crowns thee being done. Ride on 
 with thy honour, and create a name to 
 live with fair eternity. Enjoy thy pur- 
 chased glory as the merit of thy re- 
 nowned actions, and let thy memorj^ 
 entail it to succeeding generations. jNIake 
 thy own game, and .if thy conscience 
 check thee, correct thy saucy conscience,
 
 12 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS MAIT. 
 
 till she stand as mute as metamorphosed 
 Niobe. Fear not the frowns of princes, 
 or the imperious hand of various for- 
 tune. Thou art too bright for the one 
 to obscure, and too great for the other 
 to cry down. 
 
 But hark, my soul, I hear a voice that 
 
 thunders in mine ear 
 
 / will change their glory into shame, 
 
 Hos. iv. 7. 
 
 Psal. xlix. 20. 
 
 Man that is born in honour, and under^ 
 sfandeth not, is like the beasts that pe- 
 rish, 
 
 Prov. XXV. 27. 
 
 // is not good to eat too much honey ; S9 
 for men to search their own glory is 
 not glory, 
 
 Jer. ix. 23. 
 
 TJiiis saith the Lord, Let not the wise 
 man glory in his wisdom, neither let 
 the mighty man glory in his might.
 
 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS MAN. 13 
 
 nor let the rich man glory in his 
 riches : hut let him that glorieth glory 
 in this, that he understandeth and 
 
 s hnoweth me, that I am the Lord, 
 Gal. V. 26, 
 
 Let us ^ot he desirous of vain-glory, 
 &c. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Vain- GLORY is a froth, which, blown 
 off, discovers a great want of measure : 
 canst thou, O my soul, be guilty of such 
 an emptiness, and not be challenged? 
 Canst thou appear in the searching eye 
 of Heaven, and not expect to be cast 
 away ? Deceive not thyself, O my soul, 
 nor flatter thyself with thy own great- 
 ness. Search thyself to the bottom, and 
 thou shalt find enough to humble thee. 
 Dost thou glory in the favour of a prince ? 
 the frown of a prince determines it. Dost 
 thou glory in thy strength ? a poOr ague 
 tetrays it. Dost thou glory in thy wealth?
 
 14 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS MAX. 
 
 the hand of a thief extinguishes it. Dost 
 thou giory in thy friends I one cloud of 
 adversity darkens it. Dost thou glory in 
 thy parts ? thy own pride obscures it. 
 JBeholtJ, n>y soiil, how like a bubble thou 
 appearest, and with a sigh break' st into 
 sorrow ! The gate of heaven is strait ; 
 canst thou hope to enter without break- 
 ing? The bubble that would p^ss the 
 floodgates, must first dissolve. My soul, 
 melt then in tpars, and empty thyself of 
 all thy vanity, and thou shalt find divinp 
 repletion ; evaporate in devotion, and 
 thou shalt recruit thy greatness to eter? 
 Ijal glory, 
 
 ffis Prayei\ 
 
 And can I choose, O God, but trembly 
 at thy judgments? Or can my stony 
 heart not stand amazed at thy threaten- 
 ings ? It is thy voice, O God, and thou 
 Jiast spoken it : it is thy voice, O God^,
 
 THE VAIN- GLORIOUS MAN. 16 
 
 jtnd I have heard it. Hadst thou so 
 dealt by me, as thou didst by Babel's 
 proud king, and driven me from the 
 sons of men, thou hadst but done acr 
 cording to thy righteousness, and re^ 
 warded me according to my deservings. 
 What couldest thou see in me less wor- 
 thy of thy vengeance than in him, the 
 example of thy justice? or. Lord, where- 
 in am I more incapable of thy indigna- 
 tion? There is nothing in me to move 
 thy mercy but my misery. Thy goodness 
 is thyself, and hath no ground but what 
 proceedeth from itself, yet have I sin- 
 ned against that goodness, and have 
 thereby heaped up wrath against the 
 day of wrath ; that insomuch, had not 
 thy grace abounded with my sin, I had 
 long since been confounded in my sin, 
 and swallowed up in the gulf of thy dis- 
 pleasure. But, Lord, thou takest no de- 
 light to punish ; and with thee is no re-, 
 spect of persons: thou takest no pleasure
 
 10 THE VAIN-GLORIOUS WAN. 
 
 in the confusion of thy creature, but re? 
 joicest rather in the conversion of a sin- 
 ner. Convert me, therefore, O God, and 
 J shall be then converted : make me sen- 
 sible of my own corniptioni^, that I may 
 see the vileness of my own condition. 
 Pull down the pride of my ambitious 
 heart ; humble me, thou, O God, and I 
 shall be humbled : wean nie from the 
 thirst of transitory honour, and let my 
 whole delight be to glory in thee : touch 
 thou my conscience with the fear of thy 
 name, that in all my actions I may fear 
 to offend thee. Endue me, O Lord, with 
 the spirit of meekness, and teach me to 
 overcome evil with a patient heart : mo- 
 derate and curb the exorbitances of my 
 passion, and give me temperate use of 
 all thy creatures. Replenish my heart 
 with the graces of thy Spirit, that in all 
 my ways I may be acceptable in thy 
 sight. In all conditions give me a con- 
 tented mind, and upon all occasion*
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. I7 
 
 grant me a grateful heart, that honour- 
 ing thee here in the church militant be- 
 fore men, I may be glorified hereafter in 
 the church triumphant before thee and 
 angels; where, filled with true glory, ac- 
 cording to the measure of grace thou 
 shalt be pleased to give me here, I may 
 with angels and archangels praise thy 
 name for ever and ever. 
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. 
 
 His Plea, 
 
 I SEEK but what is my own by law : it 
 was his own free act and deed : the exe- 
 cution lies for goods or body, and goods 
 or body I will have, or else my money. 
 AVhat if his beggarly children pine, or 
 his proud wife perish ? They perish at 
 their own charge, not mine ; and what 
 is that to me ? I must be paid, or he lie 
 by it, imtil J have my utmost farthing
 
 18 THE OPPRESSOR. 
 
 or his bones. The law is just and good ; 
 and being ruled by that, how can my 
 fair proceedings be unjust? What is 
 thirty in the hundred to a man of trade! 
 Are we born to thrum caps, or pick 
 straws ? and sell our livelihood for a few 
 tears, and a whining face ? I thank God 
 they move me not so much as a howl- 
 ing dog at midnight. I'll give no day, 
 if Heaven itself would be security ; 1 
 must have present money, or his bones. 
 The commodity was good enough, as 
 wares went then, and had he had but a 
 thriving wit, with the necessary help of 
 a good merchantable conscience, he 
 might have gained perchance as much 
 as now he lost ; but howsoever, gain 
 or not gain, I must have my money. 
 Two tedious terms my dearest gold 
 hath lain in his unprofitable hands. The 
 cost of suit hath made me bleed above 
 a score of royals f besides my interest, 
 travel, half-pennies, and bribes; all which 
 
 4
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. Ip 
 
 does but increase my beggarly defend- 
 ant's damages, and set him deeper on. 
 my score ; but right is right, and I will 
 have my money, or his bones. Fifteen 
 shillings in the pound composition ! I'll 
 hang first. Come, tell not me of a good 
 conscience: a good conscience is no par- 
 cel of my trade ; it hath made more 
 bankrupts than all the loose wives in 
 the universal city. My conscience is no 
 foDl. It tells me that my own's my 
 own ; a^d that a well-crammed bag is 
 no deceitful friend, but will stick close 
 to me when all my friends forsake me. 
 If to gain a good estate out of nothing, 
 and to regain a desperate debt, which is 
 as good as nothing, be the fruits and 
 sign of a bad conscience, God help the 
 good ! Come, tell not me of griping and 
 oppression : the world is hard, and he 
 that hopes to thrive must gripe as hard: 
 what I give I give, and what I lend I 
 lend. If the way to heaven be to turn 
 c 2
 
 20 THE OPPRESSOR. 
 
 beggar upon earth, let them take it that 
 like it ! I know not what ye call op- 
 pression. The law is my direction; but 
 of the two it is more profitable to op- 
 press than to be oppressed. If debtors 
 would be honest and discharge, our 
 hands were bound ; but when their fail- 
 ing offends my bags, they touch the 
 apple of my eye, and I must right 
 them. 
 
 But, ha ! what voice is this that 
 
 whispers in mine ear. 
 
 The Lord ivill spoil the soul of the 
 
 oppressors. Prov. xxii. 23. 
 Prov. xxii. 22. 
 
 Rob not the poor because he is poor, nei- 
 ther oppress the afflicted in the gate ; 
 for the Lord tvill plead their cause, 
 and spoil the soul of those that spoil- 
 ed them. 
 
 Ezek. xxii. ig. 
 
 The people of the land have used op-
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. 21 
 
 '- pression, and exercised robberi/, and 
 have vexed the poor and needy ; yea, 
 they have oppressed the stranger 
 wrongfully. Therefore I have poured 
 out my indignation upon them^ I have 
 consumed them with the fire of my 
 wrath, 
 
 >? ,' Zach. vii. Q. 
 
 Execute true judgment ^ and shew mercy 
 and compassion every man to his bro- 
 ther, and oppress not the ividmu nor 
 the fatherless, nor the stranger^ nor 
 the poor, and let none of you imagine 
 evil in your hearts against his brother. 
 But they refused to hearken ; there- 
 fore came a great wrath from the 
 Lord of hosts. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Is it wisdom in thee, O my soul, to 
 covet a happiness, or rather to account 
 it so, that is sought for with a judgment, 
 c 3
 
 22 THE OPPRESSOR. 
 
 obtained with a curse, and punished with 
 damnation and to neglect that good 
 which is assured with a promise, pur- 
 chased with a blessing, and rewarded 
 with a crown of glory? Canst thou hold 
 a full estate a good pennyworth, which 
 is bought with the dear price of thy 
 God's displeasure ? Tell me, what con- 
 tinuance can that inheritance promise 
 that is raised upon the ruins of thy bro- 
 ther ? Or, what mercy canst thou expect 
 from Heaven, that hast denied all mercy 
 to thy neighbour ? O my hard-hearted 
 soul! consider, and relent. Build not 
 an house whose posts are subject to be 
 rotted with a curse. Consider what tlie 
 God of truth hath threatened against thy 
 cruelty : relent, and turn compassionate, 
 that thou mayest be capable of his com- 
 passion. If the desire of gold hath har- 
 dened thy heart, let the tears of true 
 repentance mollify it; soften it with
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. 23 
 
 Aaron's ointment, until it become wax 
 to take the impression of that seal which 
 must confirm thy pardon. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 But will my God be now entreated ? 
 Is not my crying sin too loud for par^ 
 don ? Am I not sunk too deep into the 
 jaws of hell for thy strong arm to res* 
 cue ? Hath not the hardness of my heart 
 made me incapable of thy compassion ? 
 Oh, if my tears might wash away my sin, 
 my head should turn a living spring ! 
 Lord, I have heard thee speak, and am 
 afraid; the word is passed, and thy judg- 
 ments have found me out. Fearfulness 
 and trembling are come upon me, and 
 the jaws of hell have overwhelmed me. 
 I have oppressed thy poor, and added 
 affliction to the afflicted, and the voice 
 of their misery is come before thee. 
 They besought me with tears, and in 
 c4
 
 24 THE OTPllESSOR. 
 
 the anguish of their souls; but 1 have 
 stopped mine ears against the cry of 
 their complaint. But, Lord, thou walkest 
 not the ways of man, and rememberest 
 mercy in the midst of thy wrath ; for 
 thou art good and gracious, and ready 
 to forgive, and plenteous in compassion 
 to all that shall call upon thee. Forgive 
 me, O God, my sins that are past ! and 
 deliver me from the guilt of my oppres- 
 sion. Take from me, O God, this heart 
 of stone, and create in my breast a heart 
 of flesh : assuage the vehemency of my 
 desires to the things below, and satisfy 
 my soul with the sufficiency of thy 
 grace. Inflame my affections, that I 
 may love thee with a filial love, and in- 
 cline me to rely upon thy fatherly pro- 
 vidence. Let me account godliness my 
 greatest gain, and subdue in me my lusts 
 after filthy lucre. Preserve me, O Lord, 
 from the vanity of self-love, and plant 
 in my affections the true love of my
 
 f '. ^t^ 
 
 THE OPPRESSOR. 25 
 
 neighbours. Endue my heart with the 
 bowels of compassion,. and then reward 
 me according to thy righteousness. Di- 
 rect me, O God, in the Ways of my hfe, 
 and let a good conscience be my conti- 
 nual comfort. Give me a willing heart 
 to make restitution of what I have 
 wrongfully gotten by oppression. Grant 
 me a lawful use of all thy creatures, and 
 a thankful heart for all thy benefits. Be 
 merciful to all those that groan under 
 the burden of their own wants, and 
 give them patience to expect thy deli- 
 verance. Give me a heart that may- 
 acknowledge thy favours, and fill my 
 tongue with praise and thanksgiving; 
 that, living here a new life, I may be- 
 come a new creature; and being en- 
 grafted in thee, by the power of thy 
 grace, I may bring forth fruit to thy 
 honour and glory.
 
 ^ - 26 
 
 THE PRUNKARD. 
 
 --# 
 
 His Jubilee. 
 
 What complement will the severer 
 world allow to the vacant hours of fro- 
 lic-hearted youth ? How shall their free, 
 their jovial spirits, entertain their time, 
 their friends ? What oil shall be infused 
 into the lamp of dear society, if they 
 deny the privilege of a civil rejoicing 
 cup ? It is the life, the radical humour 
 of united souls, whose love- digestive 
 heat even ripens and ferments the green 
 materials 6f a plighted faith; without 
 the help whereof new- married friend-< 
 ship falls into divorce, and joined ac- 
 quaintance soon resolves into the first 
 elements of strangeness. What mean 
 these strict reformers thus to spend their 
 hour-glasses, and bawl against our harm- 
 less cups? to call our meetings riots, and
 
 TJm DRUNKARD- 2 7 
 
 brand our civil mirth with styles of loose 
 intemperance ? whilst they can sit at a 
 sister's feast, devour and gormandize be- 
 yond excess, and wipe the guilt from off 
 their marrowed mouths, and clothe their 
 surfeits in the long fustian rohes of a te- 
 dious grace ! Is it not much better in a 
 fair friendly round (since youth must 
 have a swing) to steep our soul-afflict- 
 ing sorrows in a chirping cup, than ha- 
 zard our estates upon the abuse of Pro-- 
 vidence in a foolish cast at dice P or at a 
 cockpit leave our doubtful fortunes to 
 the mercy of unmerciful contention ? or 
 spend our wanton days in sacrificing 
 costly presents to a fleshly idolP Was 
 not wine given to exhilarate the droop- 
 ing hearts, and raise the drow^sy spirits 
 of dejected souls ? Is not the liberal cup 
 the sucking bottle of the sons of Phoe- 
 bus, to solace and refresh their palates 
 in the nights of sad invention ? Let dry- 
 ]brained zealots spend their idle breaths,
 
 28 THE DRUNKARD. 
 
 my cups shall be my cordials to restore 
 my care-befeebled heart to the true tem- 
 per of a well-complexioned mirth. My 
 solid brains are potent, and can bear 
 enough, "without the least ofEence to my 
 distempered senses, or interruption of 
 my boon companions. My tongue can, 
 in the very zenith of my cups, deliver 
 the expressions of my composed thoughts 
 with better sense, than these my grave 
 reformers can their best advised prayers. 
 My constitution is pot-proof, and strong 
 enough to make a fierce encounter with 
 the most stupendous vessel that ever 
 sailed upon the tides of Bacchus. My 
 reason shrinks not; my passion burns 
 not. 
 
 O BUT, my soul ! I hear a threatening 
 voice that interrupts my language. 
 
 Woe he to (hem that are mighty to 
 drinh wine. Isaiah, v. 22.
 
 THE DRUN^KARD. 20 
 
 PrOV. XX. 1. 
 
 fflne is a mocker ; strong drinh is 
 raging, and luhosoever is deceived 
 thereby is not tvise, 
 
 Isaiah, v. 1 1 . 
 
 JFoe he to them that rise tip early in the 
 morning to follow strong drinh; that 
 continue till night, until ivine inflame 
 them. 
 
 Prov. xxiii. 20/ 
 
 Be not among wine-bibhers. 
 1 Cor. V. 11. 
 
 Now I have tvritten unto you, not to 
 Iceep company, if any that is called a 
 brother be a drunkard; with such a 
 one, no, not to eat, 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 My soul, it is the voice of God, di- 
 gested into a judgment: there is no 
 kicking against pricks, or arguing against 
 a divine truth. Pleadest thou custom ?
 
 30 THE DRUNKARD. 
 
 Custom in sin multiplies it. Pleadest 
 thou society ? Society in the otFence, 
 aggravates the punishment. Pleadest 
 thou help to invention ? Woe be to that 
 barrenness, that wants such showers. 
 Pleadest thou strength to bear much 
 wine ? " Woe to those that are mighty 
 to drink strong drink." My soul, thou 
 hast sinned against thy Creator in abus- 
 ing that creature he made to serve thee : 
 thou hast sinned against the creature, in 
 turning it to the Creator's dishonour: 
 thou hast sinned against thyself, in mak- 
 ing thy comfort thy confusion. How 
 many want that blessing thou hast 
 turned into a curse P How many thirst 
 whilst thou surfeitest? What satisfac- 
 tion wilt thou give to the Creator, to 
 the creature, to thyself, against all 
 whom thou hast transgressed ? To thy- 
 self, by a sober life : to the creature, by 
 a right use : to thy Creator, by a true
 
 THE druitkard; 31 
 
 repentance: the waj to all which, is 
 prayer and thanksgiving. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 How truly then, O God, this heavy 
 woe belongs to this my boasted sin ! 
 How many judgments are comprised 
 and abstracted in this woe, and all for 
 me, even me, O God, the miserable sub- 
 ject of thy eternal wrath ; even me, O 
 Lord, the mark whereat the shafts of 
 thy displeasure level! Lord, I was a 
 sinner in my first conception, and in sin 
 hath my mother brought me forth ; I was 
 no sooner born, but I was a slave to sin, 
 and all my life is nothing but the prac- 
 tice and the trade of high rebellion. I 
 have turned thy blessings into thy dis- 
 honour, and all thy graces into wanton- 
 ness : yet hast thou been my God, even 
 from the very womb, and didst sustain 
 me when I hung upon my mother's
 
 32 THE DKUNKARt). 
 
 breast ; thou hast washed me, O Lord, 
 from my pollution, but like a swine I 
 have returned to my mire. Thou hast 
 glanced into my breast the blessed mo- 
 tions of thy Holy Spirit, but I have 
 quenched them with the spring- tides 
 of my born corruption. Be merciful, 
 O God, unto me I Have mercy on me, 
 O thou Son of David ! I cannot, O 
 Lord, expect the children's bread, yet 
 suffer me to lick the crumbs that fall be- 
 neath their table. I, that have so oft 
 abused the greatest of thy blessings, am 
 not worthy of the meanest of thy favours. 
 Look, look upon me according to the 
 goodness of thy mercy, and not accord- 
 ing to the greatness of my offences. 
 Give me, O God, a sober heart, and a 
 lawful moderation in the enjoyment of 
 thy creatures. Reclaim my appetite 
 from unseasonable delights, lest I turn 
 thy blessings into a curse. In all my 
 dejections, be thou my comfort, and let
 
 THE DRUNKARD. 33 
 
 my rejoicing be only in thee. Propose 
 to mine eyes the evilness of my days, 
 and make me careful to redeem my 
 time. Wean me from the pleasure of 
 vain society, and let my companions be 
 such as fear thee. Forgive all such as 
 have been partners in my sin, and turn 
 their hearts to the obedience of thy 
 laws. Open their ears to the reproofs of 
 the wise, and make them powerful in 
 reformation. Allay that lust which my 
 intemperance hath inflamed, and cleanse 
 my affections with the grace of thy 
 good Spirit ; make me thankful for the 
 strength of my body, that I may for 
 the time to come return it to the ad- 
 vantage of thy glory.
 
 34 
 
 THE SWEARER. 
 
 His Apology, 
 
 VViLL Boanarges never cease? and will 
 these plague- denouncers never leave to 
 thunder judgments in my trembling ear? 
 Nothing but plagues ! nothing hxatjudg' 
 merits I nothing but damnation! What 
 have I done to make my case desperate? 
 and what have they not done to make 
 my soul despair ? Have I set up false 
 gods like the Egyptians ? or have I bowed 
 before therti like the Israelites ? Have I 
 violated the Sabbath like the libertines ? 
 or, like cursed Ham, have I discovered 
 my father s nakedness ? Have I embrued 
 my hands in blood like Barabbas ? or 
 like Absalom defiled mv father's bed ? 
 Have I like Jacob supplanted my elder 
 brother ? or like Ahab intruded into 
 Nabal's vineyard ? Htive I borne false 
 witness like the wanton elders ? or like
 
 THE SWEARER. 35 
 
 David coveted Uriah's v^ife? Have I 
 not given tithes of all I have ? or hath 
 my purse been hidebound to my hungr}^ 
 brother ? Hath not my life been blame- 
 less before men ? And my demeanour 
 unreprovable before the w^orld ? Have I 
 not hated vice with a perfect hatred ? 
 and countenanced virtue with a due re- 
 spect ? What mean these strict observers 
 of my life, to ransack every action, to 
 carp at every word, and with their sharp 
 censorious tongues to sentence every 
 frailty with damnation ? Is there no al- 
 lowance to humanity ? no grains to flesh 
 and blood ? Are we all angels ? Has 
 mortality no privilege to supersede it 
 from the utmost punishment of a little 
 necessary frailty ? Come, come, my soul, 
 let not these judgment-thunderers fright 
 thee : let not these qualms of their exu- 
 berant zeal disturb thee. Thou hast not 
 cursed like Shimei, nor railed like Rab- 
 shekah, nor lied like Ananias, nor slan- 
 
 D 2
 
 36 THE SWEARER. 
 
 dered like thy accusers. They that cen- 
 sure thy gnats, swallow their own ca- 
 mels. What if the luxuriant style of 
 thy discourse do chance to strike upon 
 an obvious oathy art thou straight hur- 
 ried into the bosom of a plague P What 
 if the custom of a harmless oath should 
 captivate thy heedless tongue, can no- 
 thing under sudden judgment seize 
 upon thee ? What if another's diffidence 
 should force thy earnest lips into a hasty 
 oath, in confirmation of a suffering truth, 
 must thou be straightway s branded with 
 damnation P Was Joseph marked for 
 everlasting death for swearing by the life 
 of Egypt's king ? Was Peter, when he 
 so denied his master, straight damned 
 foreswearing ? 
 
 Oh, flatter not thyself, my soul ! nor 
 turn thou advocate to so high a sin : 
 make not the slips of saints a precedent 
 for thee to fall.
 
 THE SWEARER. 37 
 
 If the rebukes of flesh may not pre- 
 vail, hear then the threatening of the 
 Spirit, which saith 
 
 The plague shall not depart from the 
 house of the swearer. 
 
 Exod. XX. 7. 
 Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord 
 
 thy God in vahij for the Lord ivill not 
 
 hold him guiltless that taJceth his name 
 
 in vain. 
 
 Zach. V. 3. 
 And every one that sweareth shall he cut 
 
 off. 
 
 Matth. V. 34. 
 Swear not at all; neither by heaven , for 
 it is God's throne; nor by the earth, 
 for it is his footstool ; but let your 
 communication be Yeayyea Nay, nay ; 
 for whatsoever is more than these 
 cometh of evil, 
 
 Jer. xxiii. 10. 
 
 Because of swearing the land mourneth. 
 
 D 3 
 
 46837
 
 38 THE SWEARER. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Oh, what a judgment is here ! How 
 terrible ! How full of execution ! The 
 plague ! the extract of all diseases ! 
 none so mortal ; none so comfortless. 
 It makes our house a prison, our friends 
 strangers; no comfort but in the expect- 
 ation of the month's end. Ay, but this 
 judgment excludes that comfort too ! 
 " The plague shall never depart from 
 the house oj the swearer'' What, ne- 
 ver ? Death will give it a period. No, 
 but it shall be entailed upon his ImusCy 
 \i\^ family. O detestable, O destructive 
 sin ! that leaves a cross upon the doors 
 of generations, and lays whole families 
 upon the dust; a sin, whereto neither 
 profit incites, nor pleasure allures, nor 
 necessity compels, nor inclination of 
 nature persuades; a mere voluntary; 
 begun with a malignant imitation, and
 
 THE SWEARER. 39 
 
 continued with an habitual presump- 
 tion. Consider, O my soul, every oath 
 hath been a nail to wound that Saviour, 
 whose blood (O mercy above expres- 
 sion !) must save thee. Be sensible of 
 thy actions and his suiFerings. Abhor 
 thyself in dust and ashes, and magnify 
 his mercy that hath turned this judg- 
 ment from thee. Go, wash those wounds 
 which thou hast made, with tears; and 
 humble thyself with prayer, and true 
 repentanee. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 Eternal and omnipotent God! before 
 whose glorious name angels and arch- 
 angels bow, and hide their faces ; to 
 which the blessed spirits, and saints of 
 thy triumphant church, sing forth per- 
 petual hallelujahs ! I, a poor child of 
 disobedient Adam, do here make bold 
 to take that holy name into my sin-pol- 
 
 D 4
 
 40 THE I^EARER. 
 
 luted lips. I have heinously sinned, O 
 God, against thee, and against it; I have 
 disparaged it in my thoughts, dishonoured 
 it in my words, profaned it in my actions; 
 and I know thou art a jealous God, and 
 a consuming fire; as faithful in thy pro- 
 mises, so, fearful in thy judgments. I 
 therefore fly from the dreadful name of 
 Jehovah, which I have abused, to that 
 gracious name of Jesus, wherein thou 
 art well pleased. In that most sacred 
 name, O God, I fall before thee ; and 
 for his beloved sake, O Lord, I come 
 unto thee. Cleanse thou my heart, O 
 God, and then my tongue shall praise 
 thee. Wash thou my soul, O Lord, and 
 then my lips shall bless thee. Work in 
 my heart a fear of thy displeasure, and 
 give me an awful reverence of thy name. 
 Set thou a watch before my lips, that I 
 offend not with my tongue. Let no mo- 
 tives entice me to be an instrument of 
 thy dishonour ; and let thy attributes be
 
 THE SWEARER. 41 
 
 precious in mine eyes. Teach me the 
 way of thy precepts, O Lord, and make 
 me sensible of all my offences. Let not 
 my sinful custom in sinning against thy 
 name, take from my guilty soul the 
 sense of my sin. Give me a respect 
 unto all thy commandments, but espe- 
 cially preserve me from the danger of 
 this my bosom sin. Mollify my heart 
 at the rebukes of thy servants, and strike 
 into my inward parts a fear of thy judg- 
 ments. Let all my communication be 
 ordered as in thy presence, and let the 
 words of my mouth be governed by thy 
 Spirit. Avert those judgments from me 
 which thy word hath threatened, and 
 my sin hath deserved, and strengthen 
 my resolution for the time to come. 
 Work in me a true godly sorrow, that 
 it may bring forth in me a newness of 
 life. Sanctify my thoughts with the con- 
 tinual meditation of thy commandments, 
 and mortify those passions which pro-
 
 '42 THE PROCRASTINATOR. 
 
 voke me to otFend thee. Let not the 
 examples of others induce me to this 
 sin, nor let the frailties of my flesh 
 seek fig-leaves to cover it. Seal in my 
 heart the full assurance of thy recon- 
 ciliation, and look upon me in the bowels 
 of compassion, that, crowning my weak 
 desires with thy all-sufficient power, I 
 may escape this judgment which thy 
 justice hath threatened here, and obtain 
 that happiness thy mercy hath promised 
 hei:eafter. 
 
 THE PROCRASTINATOR. 
 
 His Delay. 
 
 Tell me no more of fasting, prayer, 
 ^nd death ; they fill my thoughts with 
 dumps of melancholy. These are no 
 subjects for a youthful ear ; no contem- 
 plations for an active soul. Let them.
 
 THE PROCRASTINATOR. 49 
 
 whom sullen age hath weaned from 
 airy pleasures, whom wayward fortune 
 hath condemned to sighs and groans, 
 whom sad diseases have beslaved to 
 drugs and diets, let them consume the 
 remnant of their wretched days in dull 
 devotion : let them afflict their aching 
 souls with the untunable discourses of 
 mortality ; let them contemplate on evil 
 days, and read sharp lectures of their 
 own experience. For me, my bones are 
 full of unctuous marrow, and my blood 
 of sprightly youth. My fair and free 
 estate secures me from the fears of iox^ 
 tune's frown. My strength of consti- 
 tution hath the power to grapple with 
 sorrow, sickness, nay the very pangs of 
 death and overcome. 'Tis true, God 
 must be sought ; what impious tongue 
 dare be so basely bold to contradict so 
 known a truth ? and by repentance too ! 
 What strange impiety dare deny it ? or 
 what presumptuous lips dare disavow
 
 44 THE PROCRASTINATOR, 
 
 it? But there's a time for all things, 
 yet none prefixed for this, no day de- 
 signed, but, at any time soever. If 
 my unseasonable heart should seek him 
 now, the work would be too serious for 
 so green a seeker. My thoughts are yet 
 unsettled, my fancy yet too gamesome, 
 my judgment yet unsound, my will un- 
 sanctified. To seek him with an un- 
 prepared heart is the highway not to 
 find him ; or to find him with unsettled 
 resolution is the next way to lose him; 
 and indeed it wants but little of pro- 
 faneness to be unseasonably religious. 
 What is once to be done, is long to be 
 deliberated. Let the boiling pleasures 
 of the rebellious flesh evaporate a little, 
 and let me drain my boggy soul from 
 those corrupted inbred humours of col- 
 lapsed nature, and when the tender 
 blossoms of my youthful vanity shall 
 begin to fade, my settled understanding 
 will begin to knot, my solid judgment will
 
 THE PROCRASTINATOR. 45 
 
 begin to ripen, my rightly guided fancy 
 will be resolved both what to seek, and 
 when to find, and how to prize. Till 
 then, my tender youth, in her pursuit, 
 will be disturbed with every blast of 
 honour, diverted with every flash of 
 pleasure, misled by counsel, turned back 
 with fear, puzzled with doubt, in- 
 terrupted by passion, withdrawn by 
 prosperity, and discouraged with ad- 
 versity. 
 
 Take heed, my soul : when thou 
 hast lost thyself in thy journey, how 
 wilt thou find thy God at thy journey's 
 end ? Whom thou hast lost by too long 
 delay, thou wilt hardly find with too 
 late a diligence. Take time while 
 time sha^l serve. That day may come, 
 wherein 
 
 Tho2i shall seek the Lord, hut shalt 
 not find him, Hos. v. 0.
 
 40^ THE PROCRASTINATOR. 
 
 Isaiah, Iv. 0. 
 
 Seek the Lord zvhile he may be found, 
 
 call upon Mm while he is near, 
 
 Heb. xii. 17. 
 
 He found no place for repentance, though 
 
 he sought it with tears carefully. 
 Thou fool, this night will I take thy soul 
 from thee. 
 
 Revel, ii. 21. 
 I gave her a space to repent, hut she re- 
 pented not ; behold therefore I will 
 cast her. 
 
 His Soliloquy. ' 
 
 O MY soul, thou hast sought wealth, 
 and hast either not found it, or cares 
 with it ; thou hast sought for pleasure, 
 and hast found it, but no comfort in it. 
 Thou sough test honour, and hast found 
 it> and perchance fallen with it: thou 
 soughtest friendship, and hast found it 
 false ; society, and hast found ifvain :
 
 THE PROCRASTINATOR. Af 
 
 and yet thy God, the fountain of all 
 wealth, pleasure, honour, friendship, and 
 society, thou hast slighted as a toy not 
 worth the finding ! Be wise, my soul, 
 and blush at thy own folly. Set thy 
 desires on the right object; seek wisdom, 
 and thou shalt find knowledge, and 
 wealth, and honour, and length of days ; 
 seek heaven, and earth shall seek thee ; 
 and defer not thy inquest, lest thou lose 
 thy opportunity. To-day thou mayest 
 find him, whom to-morrow thou mayest 
 seek with tears, and miss: yesterday is 
 too late, to-morrow is uncertain, to-day 
 is only thine. Ay, but, my soul, I fear my 
 too long delay hath made this day too 
 late : fear not, my soul ; he that has given 
 thee his grace to-day, will forget thy 
 neglect of yesterday ; seek him therefore 
 by true repentance, and thou shalt find 
 him in ithy prayer.
 
 48 THE PROCRASTI-NATOR. 
 
 His Frayer. 
 
 O God, that, like thy precious word, 
 art hid to none but who are lost, and 
 yet art found by all that seek thee with 
 an upright heart, cast down thy gracious 
 eye upon a lost sheep of Israel, strayed 
 through the vanity of his unbridled 
 youth, and wandered in the wilderness 
 of his own invention. Lord, I have too 
 much delighted in mine own ways, and 
 have put the evil day too far from me. 
 I have wallowed in the pleasures of this 
 deceitful world, which perish in the using, 
 and have neglected thee, my God, at 
 whose right hand are pleasures for ever- 
 more : I have drawn on iniquity as with 
 cart-ropes, and have committed evil with 
 greediness : I have quenched the motions 
 of thy good Spirit, and have delayed to 
 seek thee by true and unfeigned repent- 
 ance. Instead of seeking thee whom I 
 have lost, I have withdrawn myself from
 
 THE PROCRASTINATOR. 4^ 
 
 thy presence when thou hast sought 
 me. It were but justice therefore in 
 thee to stop thine ears at my petitions, or 
 turn my prayers as sin into my bosom ; 
 but, Lord, thou art a gracious God, and 
 full of pity and unwearied compassion, 
 and thy loving kindness is from genera- 
 tion to generation. Lord, in not seeking 
 thee I have utterly lost myself; and if 
 thou find me not, I am lost for ever ; and 
 if thou find me, thou canst not but find 
 me in my sins, and then thou findest me 
 to my own destruction. How miserable, 
 O Lord, is my condition ! How neces- 
 sary is my confusion ! that have neg- 
 lected to seek thee, and therefore am 
 afraid to be found of thee. But, Lord, if 
 thou look upon the all-sufficient merits 
 of thy Son, thy justice will be no loser 
 in shewing mercy upon a sinner ; in his 
 name therefore I present myself before 
 thee ; in his merits I make my humble 
 approach unto thee ; in his name I offer 
 
 E
 
 ^ THE PROCRASTINATOR. 
 
 Up my feeble prayer; for his merits 
 grant me my petitions. Call not to mind 
 the rebelHons of my flesh, and remember 
 not, O God, the vanities of my youth : 
 inflame my heart with the love of thy 
 presence, and relish my meditations with 
 the pleasure of thy sweetness. Let not 
 the consideration of thy justice over- 
 whelm me in despair, nor the meditation 
 on thy mercy persuade me to presume. 
 Sanctify my will by the wisdom of thy 
 Spirit, that I may desire thee as the 
 chiefest good : quicken my desires with 
 a fervent zeal, that I may seek my Creator 
 in the days of my youth : teach me to 
 seek thee according to thy will, and then 
 be formed according to thy promise, that 
 living in me here by thy grace, I may 
 hereafter reign with thee in thy glory.
 
 51 
 
 THE HYPOCRITE. 
 
 His Prevancation, 
 
 There is no stuff to make a cloak 
 of like religion ! nothing so fashion- 
 able, nothing so profitable : it is a livery 
 wherein a wise man may serve two 
 masters, God and the world, and make 
 a gainful service by either. I serve both, 
 and in both, myself, by prevaricating 
 with both. Before man, none serves his 
 God with more severe devotion ; for 
 which, among the best of men, I work 
 my own ends, and serve myself. In 
 private I serve the world, not with so 
 strict devotion, but with more delight ; 
 where, fulfilling of her servants' lusts, 
 I work my end, and serve, myself. 
 The house of prayer who more frequents 
 than I ? In all Christian duties who 
 more forward than I ? I fast with those 
 E 2
 
 52 . THE HYPOCRITE. 
 
 that fast, that I may eat with those that 
 eat : I mourn with those that mourn : 
 no hand more open to the cause than 
 mine, and in their famiUes none prays 
 longer and with louder zeal. Thus, 
 when the opinion of a holy life hath 
 cried the goodness of my conscience up, 
 my trade can lack no custom, my wares 
 can want no price, my words can need 
 no credit, my actions can lack no praise. 
 If I am covetous, it is interpreted provi- 
 dence ; if miserable, it is counted tem- 
 perance ; if melancholy, it is construed 
 godly sorrow ; if merry, it is voted spi- 
 ritual joy; if I be rich, it is thought the 
 blessing of a godly life ; if poor, sup- 
 posed the fruit of conscionable dealing ; 
 if I be well spoken of, it is the merit of 
 holy conversation ; if ill, it is the mahce 
 of malignants. Thus I sail with every 
 wind, and have my end in all conditions. 
 This oloak in summer keeps me cool, in 
 winter warm, and hides the nasty bag
 
 THE HYPOCRITE. 53 
 
 , of all my secret lusts. Under this cloak 
 I walk in public, fairly, with applause ; 
 and in private, sin securely without of- 
 fence, and officiate wisely without dis- 
 covery. I compass sea and land to make 
 a proselyte, and no sooner made, but he 
 makes me. At a fast I cry Geneva, and 
 at a feast I cry Rome ! If I be poor, I 
 counterfeit abundance to save my cre- 
 dit } if rich, I dissemble poverty to save 
 <:harges/ I most frequent schismatical 
 lectures, which I find most profitable ; 
 from whence learning to divulge and 
 maintain new doctrines, they maintain 
 me in suppers thrice a week. I use the 
 help of a lie, sometimes as a religious 
 stratagem, to uphold the Gospel; and I 
 colour oppression, with God's judgment 
 executed upon the wicked. Charity I hold 
 an extraordinary duty, therefore not ordi- 
 narily to be performed. What I openly 
 reprove abroad for my own profit, that 
 
 E 3
 
 54 THE HYPOCRITE. 
 
 I secretly act at home, for my owii 
 pleasure. 
 
 But stay, I see a hand- writing in my 
 heart, which damps my soul ; 'tis cha- 
 ractered in these sad words, 
 
 The congregation of the hypocrites 
 shall be desolate. Job, xv. 34. 
 
 Job, XX. 5. 
 The triumphing of the iviched is short, 
 , and the joy of the hypocrite is but for 
 a moment. 
 
 Job, xxxvi. 13, 14. 
 The hypocrites in heart heap up wrath ; 
 they die in their youth, and their life 
 is amongst the unclean. 
 Psal. xi. g. 
 An hypocrite tvith his mouth destroyeth 
 his neighbour ; hut through knowledge 
 shall the just be delivered, 
 Matth. xxiii. 13. 
 Woe he to you hypocrites.
 
 THE HYPOCRITE. 55 
 
 Luke, xii. I. t 
 
 Beware of the leaven of the pharisees, 
 which is hypocrisy. 
 
 His Soliloquy, ,^.^ 
 
 How like a living sepulchre did I ap- 
 pear ! without, beautified with gold and 
 rich invention ; within, nothing but a 
 loathed corruption. So long as this fair 
 sepulchre was closed, it passed for a cu- 
 rious monument of the builder's art; 
 but being opened by these spiritual keys, 
 'tis nothing but a receptacle of offensive 
 putrefaction. In what a nasty dungeon 
 hast thou, my soul, so long remained 
 unstifled! How wert thou vv^edded to 
 thy own corruptions, that couldst 
 endure thy unsavoury filthiness ! The 
 world loved me, because I seemed good; 
 God hated me, because he knew me to be 
 wicked. I had no friend but myself, and 
 
 E 4r
 
 56 THE HYPOCRITE. 
 
 that friend was my bosom enemy. O 
 my soul, is there water enough in Jor- 
 dan to cleanse thee ? Hath Gilead balm 
 enough to heal thy superannuated sores ? 
 I have sinned ; I am convinced ; I am 
 convicted. God's mercy is above di- 
 mensions, when sinners have not sinned 
 beyond repentance. Art thou, my soul, 
 truly penitent for thy sin ? Thou hast 
 free interest in his mercy. Fall then, 
 my soul, before his mercy-seat; and 
 he will crown thy penitence with his 
 pardon. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, before the brightness of 
 whose all-discerning eye the secrets of 
 my heart appear; before whose clear 
 omniscience the very entrails of my soul 
 lie open ; who art a God of righteous- 
 ness arid truth, and lovest uprightness 
 in the inward parts ; how can I choose
 
 THE HYPOCRITE. 57 
 
 but fear to thrust into thy glorious pre- 
 sence, or move my sinful Hps to call 
 upon that name, which I so often have 
 dishonoured, and made a cloak to hide 
 the baseness of my close transgressions ? 
 Lord, v^hen I look into the progress of 
 my filthy life, my guilty conscience calls 
 me to so strict account, and reflects to 
 me so large an inventory of my pre- 
 sumptuous sins, that I commit a greater 
 sin in thinking them more infinite than 
 thy mercy. But, Lord, thy mercies have 
 no date, nor is thy goodness circum- 
 scribed. The gates of thy compassion 
 are alvi^ays open to a broken heart, and 
 promise entertainment to a contrite spi- 
 rit. The burden of my sins is grievous, 
 and the remembrance of my hypocrisy 
 is intolerable. I have sinned against thy 
 Majesty w^ith a high hand, but I repent 
 me from the bottom of an humble heart. 
 As thou hast therefore given me sorrow 
 for my sins, so crown that gift in the
 
 58 THE HYPOCRITE. 
 
 freeness of remission. Be fully recon- 
 ciled to me, through the all-sufficient 
 merits of thy Son, my Saviour ; and seal 
 in my afflicted heart the full assurance of 
 thy gracious favour. Be thou exalted, 
 O God, above the heavens, and let me 
 praise thee with a single heart ; cleanse 
 thou my inward parts, O God, and pu- 
 rify the closet of my polluted soul. Fix 
 thou my heart, O thou Searcher of all 
 secrets, and keep my affections wholly 
 to thee. Remove from me all bye and 
 base respects, that I may serve thee with 
 an upright spirit. Take not the word of 
 truth out of my mouth, nor give me over 
 to deceitful lips. Give me an inward 
 reverence of thy Majesty, that I may 
 ppenly confess thee in the truth of my 
 sincerity. Be thou the only object and 
 end of all my actions, and let thy ho- 
 nour be my great reward. Let not the 
 hopes of filthy lucre, or the praise af 
 men, incline me to thee; neither let
 
 THE IGNORANT MAN. SQ 
 
 the pleasures of the world, nor the fears 
 of any loss, entice me from thee. Keep 
 from me those judgments my hypocrisy 
 hath deserved, and strengthen my reso- 
 lution to abhor my former life. Give 
 me strength, O God, to serve thee v^ith 
 a perfect heart, in the newness of life, 
 that I may be delivered from the old 
 man, and the snares of death. Then 
 shall I praise thee with my entire affec- 
 tions, and glorify thy name for ever 
 and ever. 
 
 THE IGNORANT MAN. 
 
 His Faultering. 
 
 You tell me, and you tell me, that I 
 must be a good man, and serve God, 
 and do his will : and so I .do, for aught 
 I know. I am sure I am as good as 
 God has made me, and I can make my-
 
 60 THE IGNORANT MAN. 
 
 self no better; that I cannot. And as for 
 serving God, I am sure I go to church as 
 well as the best in the parish, though I 
 be not so fine. And I make no question, 
 if I had better clothes, but I should do 
 God as much credit as another man, 
 though I say it. And as for doing God's 
 will, ay, beshrew me, I leave that to 
 them that are hooli-learnedy and can do 
 it more wisely. I believe the vicar of 
 our parish can do it, and has done it too, 
 as well as any within live miles of his 
 head ; and what need I trouble myself 
 to do what is so well done already? I 
 hope, he being so good a churchman, 
 and so great a scholar, and speaking 
 Latin too, would not leave tliat to so 
 simple a man as I. It is enough forme 
 to know that God is a good man, and 
 that the ten commandments are the best 
 prayers in all the book, unless it be the 
 creed; and that I must love my neighbour 
 as well as he loves me ; and for all other
 
 THE IGNORANT MAN. Ol 
 
 qualifications, they shall never trouble 
 my brains, * an grace a GodF Let me go 
 a Sundays and serve God, obey the King, 
 (God bless him I) do' no man no wrong, 
 say the Lord's Prayer every morning and 
 evening, follow my work, give a noble 
 to the poor at my death, and then say, 
 'Lord have mercy upon me!' and go away 
 like a lamb I make no question but I 
 shall deserve heaven, as well as he that 
 wears a gayer coat. But yet I am not 
 so ignorant neither, nor have not gone 
 so often to church, but I know Christ 
 died for me too, as well as for any other 
 man ; I'd be sorry else; and that, next 
 to our vicar, I shall go to heaven when 
 I am dead as soon as another: nay more, 
 I know there be two sacraments, bread 
 and wine, and but two (though the Pa- 
 pists say there be six or seven), and that 
 I verily believe I shall be saved by those 
 sacraments, and that I love God above 
 all, or else 'twere pity of my life; and
 
 02 THE IGNORANT MAN. 
 
 that when I am dead and rotten (as our 
 vicar told me), I shall rise again, and be 
 the same man I was. But for that, he 
 must excuse me till I have better sa- 
 tisfaction ; for all his learning, he can- 
 not make me such a fool, unless he shew 
 me a better reason for it than yet he has 
 done. 
 
 But one thing he told me, now I 
 think on't, troubles me woundly; 
 namely, that God is my Master; all 
 which I confess ; and that I must do 
 his will (whether I know how to do it 
 or not), or else it will go ill with me. 
 I'll read it (he said) out of God's Bible 
 and I shall remember the words so 
 long as I have a day to live, which are 
 these. 
 
 If a soul sin, and commit any of these 
 things luhich are forbidden to be 
 done by the commandivents of the 
 Lord, though he wist it not, yet is 
 
 4
 
 THE IGNORANT MAN. 03 
 
 he guilty y and shall hear his iniquity. 
 
 Ireyit. V. 17- 
 
 Luke, xii. 48. 
 He that hnoweth not his master s ?vill, 
 and doth things ivorthy of stripes^ 
 shall be beaten ivithfew stripes. 
 
 1 Cor. xiv. 20. 
 Brethren^ be not children in understand^ 
 
 ing ; hoivheit, in malice be ye children^ 
 hut in understanding be men, 
 
 1 Cor. XV. 34. 
 Awake to righteousness, and sin not-, for 
 some have not the Jcnowledge of God. 
 I speak it to your shame. 
 
 Ephes. iv. 18. 
 JValh not in the vanity of your minds, 
 having the understanding darkened, 
 being alienated from the life of God, 
 through the ignorance which is in 
 you, because of the blindness of your 
 hearts. 
 
 2 Thess. i. 7, 8. 
 
 The Lord Jesus shall be revealed from
 
 <l4 THE IGNORANT MAN. 
 
 heaven y with his mighty angels, in 
 flaming fire, tahing vengeance on them 
 that know not God. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 How well it had been for thee, O my 
 soul, if thou hadst been book-leaimed ! 
 Alas! I cannot read, and what I hear I can- 
 not understand. I cannot profit as I should, 
 and therefore cannot be as good as I 
 would ; for which I am right sorry. 
 That I cannot serve as well as my bet- 
 ters, hath been often a great grief to me ; 
 and that I have been so ignorant in good 
 things, hath been a great heart-breaking 
 to me. I can say no prayers, for want 
 of knowledge to read, but * Our Father,* 
 and the Creed. But the comfort is, 
 God knows my heart; and I trust in 
 God, that being made by Christ him- 
 self, will be enough for me that know 
 not how to make a better. I endeavour
 
 THE IGNORANT MAN. 65 
 
 to do all our vicar bids me ; and when " 
 I receive the communion, I truly for- 
 give all the world for a fortnight after, 
 or such a matter; but then some old 
 injury makes me forget myself; and I 
 cannot help it, an my life should lie 
 on't. O my ignorant soul, what shall I 
 do to be saved ? All that . I can say is. 
 Lord have mercy upon me ! and all that 
 I can do is, but to do my good will ; and 
 that I'll do with all my heart, and say 
 my prayers too, as well as God will give 
 me leave, ' an grace a God !* 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, the Father of heaven, have 
 mercy upon me, miserable sinner ! I 
 am, as I must needs confess, a sinful 
 man, as my forefathers were before me. 
 I have heard many sermons, and have 
 had many good lessons from the mouths 
 of painful ministers; but through the
 
 66 the: igngrakt man. 
 
 dulness of my understanding, and for 
 want of learning, I have not profited 
 so much as else I should have done* 
 Spare me, therefore, O God ; spare me, 
 whom thou hast redeemed with thy pre- 
 cious blood, and be not angry for ever. 
 I must confess, the painfiilness of my 
 calling, and the heaviness of my own 
 nature, hath taken from me the delight 
 of hearing thy word; and the ignorance 
 of learning, which I was never brought 
 up to, h^th kept me from reading it ; 
 that insomuch, instead of growing bet- 
 ter, I fear I have grown worse and 
 worse; and have been so far from 
 doing thy will, that I do not under- 
 stand what thy will is very well. But 
 thou, O merciful God, that didst reveal 
 thyself to poor shepherds and fishermen 
 that had no more learning than I, have 
 mercy upon me, for Jesus Christ his 
 sake! Thou that hast promised to in- 
 struct the simple, and to lead the igno-
 
 THfi IGNORANT MAN. 9/ 
 
 rant into thy way, be good and merciful 
 to me, I beseech thee. Thou that drawest 
 the needy out of the dust, and the poor 
 out of the dunghill, give me the know- 
 ledge of thy will, and teach me how to 
 serve thee. Take from me the drowsi- 
 ness of my heart ; open mine eyes, that 
 I may see the truth, and mine ears, 
 that I may understand thy word; and 
 strengthen my memory, that I may lay 
 it up in my heart, and shew it in my 
 life and vocation, to thy glory^ and my 
 comfort, and the comfort of my friends. 
 Lord, write thy will in my heart, that, 
 when I know it, I may do it willingly. 
 Oh, teach me what thy pleasure is, that 
 I may do my best to perform it. Give 
 me faith to lay hold of Christ Jesus who 
 died for me, that, after I am dead, I may 
 rise again and live with him. Give me 
 a good heart, that I may deal honestly 
 with all men, and do as I would be 
 done to. Bless me in my calling, and 
 
 F2
 
 6& THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 prosper the labour of my hands, that I 
 may have enough to feed me and clothe 
 me, and to give to the poor. Mend all 
 that is amiss in me, and expect from me 
 according to the measure thou hast given 
 me. Forgive me all my sins, and make 
 me willing to please thee; that, living a 
 good life, I may make a gracious death, 
 and so at last I may come to heaven, 
 and live for ever, for Jesius Christ his 
 sake. Amen. 
 
 ~f ill i; i; .. 
 
 , w... 
 
 ml 
 
 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 His Slumber. 
 
 Oh, what a world of curses the eating 
 of the forbidden fruit hath brought upon 
 mankind, and unavoidably entailed upon 
 the sons of men! Among all which, no 
 one appears to me more terrible and full
 
 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. Ol) 
 
 of sorrow, and betraying greater wrath, 
 than that insufferable, that horrible pu- 
 nishment of labour; and to purchase 
 bread with so extreme a price as sweat. 
 But oh ! what hap, what happiness have 
 they, whose dying parents have pro- 
 cured a quiet fortune for their unmo- 
 lested children, and cbnveyed descend- 
 ing rents to their succeeding heirs 
 whose easy and contented lives may sit 
 and suck the sweetness of their cumber- 
 less estates, and with their folded hands 
 enjoy the delicacies of this toilsome 
 world ! How blessed, how delicious are 
 those easy morsels, that can find their 
 way to my soft palate, and then attend 
 upon the wanton leisure of my silken 
 slumbers, without the painful practice 
 of my bosom-folded' hands, or sad con- 
 trivement of my studious and contracted 
 brows ! Why should I tire my tender 
 youth, and torture out my groaning 
 days, in toil and travail and discompose 
 F 3
 
 fQ THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 the happy peace of mj tiarmonious 
 thoughts with painful grinding in the 
 common mill of dull mortality ? Why 
 should I rob my craving eyelids of 
 their delightful rest, to carfc and care and 
 purvey for that bread which every work- 
 abhorring vagabond can find of alms at 
 every good man's door ? Why should I 
 leave the warm protection of my care- 
 beguiling down, to play the droyling 
 drudge for daily food when the young 
 empty ravens (that have no hands to 
 work, nor providence, but Heaven) can 
 call and be supplied ? The pale-faced 
 lily, and the blushing rose, neither spin 
 nor sow; yet princely Solomon was 
 never robed with so much glory. And 
 shall I then afflict my body, and be- 
 slave my heaven-born soul, to purchase 
 rags to clothe my nakedness ? Is my 
 condition worse than sheep, ordained 
 for slaughter, that crop the springing 
 grass, clothed warm in soft arrayment.
 
 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 71 
 
 purchased without their providence or 
 pains ? Or shall the pampered beast that 
 shines with fatness, and grows wanton 
 through his careful groom's indulgence, 
 find better measure at the world's too 
 partial hands than I ? Come, come, let 
 those take pains that love to leave their 
 names enrolled in memorable monu- 
 ments of parchment : the day has grief 
 enough without my help; and let to- 
 morrow's shoulders bear to-morrow's 
 burdens. 
 
 But stay, my soul, oh, stay thy rash 
 resolves ! Take heed, whilst thou avoid 
 the punishment of sin, labour thou 
 meet not the reward of idleness, a judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Behold this was the iniquity of thy 
 
 sister Sodom ; pride, fulness of bread, 
 
 and ahundance of idleness was in her, 
 
 and in her daughters ; neither did she 
 
 F 4
 
 72 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 strengthen the hand of the poor and 
 needy, Exod. xvi. 4Q. 
 
 Prov. vi. 6, 7, 8. 
 Goto the pismire, O sluggard; behold 
 
 her ways, and be wise. 
 For she having no guide, governor, nor 
 ruler, prepareth her meat in summer, 
 and gather eth her food in harvest. 
 Prov. xix. 15. 
 The idle soul shall suffer hunger. 
 
 Eocles. X. 18. 
 By much slothfuhiess the building de- 
 cay eth, and through idleness of the 
 hands, the house droppeth through. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 How presumptuously hast thou, my 
 so\il, transgressed the express command- 
 ment of thy God ! How hast thou dashed 
 thyself against his judgments! How hath 
 thy undeserving hand usurped thy diet.
 
 THE SLOTHFUL MAN, 73 
 
 and wearest on thy back the wages of 
 the painful soul ! Art thou not con- 
 demned to rags, to famine, by Him 
 whose law commanded thee to labour^ 
 And yet thou pamperest up thy sides 
 with stolen food and yet thou deckest 
 thy wanton body with unearned orna- 
 ments whilst they that spend their daily 
 strength in their commanded callings 
 (whose labour gives them interest in' 
 them), want bread to feed, and rags to 
 clothe them ! Thou art no young raven, 
 my soul, no lily ! Where ability to 
 labour is, there Providence meets action, 
 and crowns it. He that forbids to cark 
 for to-morrow, denies bread to the idle- 
 ness of to-day. Consider, O my soul, 
 thy own delinquency, and let employ- 
 meht make thee capable of thy God's 
 protection. The bird that sits is a fair 
 mark for the fowler, while they that 
 use the zving escape the danger. Follow 
 thy calling, and Heaven will follow thee
 
 74 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 with his blessing. What thou hast for- 
 merly omitted, present repentance may 
 redeem; and what judgments God hath 
 threatened, early petitions may avert. 
 
 His Prater. 
 
 Most great and most glorious God, 
 who for the sin of our first parents hast 
 condemned our frail bodies to the pu- 
 nishment of labour, and hast commanded 
 every one a calling and a trade of life; 
 that hatest idleness as the root of evil, 
 and threatenest poverty to the slothful 
 hand ; I, thy poor suppliant, convicted 
 by thy judgments, and conscious of my 
 own transgression, fly from myself to 
 thee; and humbly appeal from the high 
 tribunal of thy justice, and seek for re- 
 fuge in the sanctuary of thy rnercy. 
 Lord, I have led a life displeasing to 
 thee, and have been a scandal to my 
 profession. I have slighted those bless-
 
 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. ' 75 
 
 ings which thy goodness hath promised 
 to a conscionable calling, and have swal- 
 lowed down the bread of idleness. I 
 have impaired the talent thou gavest 
 me, and have lost the opportunity of 
 doing much good. I have filled my 
 heart with idle imaginations, and have 
 laid myself open to the lusts of the 
 flesh. I have abused thy favours in the 
 mispending of my precious time, and 
 have taken no delight in thy Sabbaths. 
 I have doted too much on the pleasures 
 of this world, and like a drone have fed 
 upon the honey of bees. If thou, O God, 
 shouldst be extreme to search my ways 
 with too severe an eye, thou couldst not 
 choose but whet tljy indignation, and 
 pour the vials of thy wrath upon me. 
 Look, therefore, not upon my sins, O 
 Lord, but through the merits of my 
 Saviour who hath made a fiill satisfac- 
 tion for all my sins ! What through my 
 weakness I have failed to do, the ful-
 
 76 THE SLOTHFUL MAN. 
 
 ness of his sufferings hath most exactly 
 done. In him, O God, in whom thou 
 art well pleased, and for his sake, be 
 gracious to my sin. Alter my heart, 
 and make it willing to please thee, that 
 in my life 1 may adorn my profession. 
 Give me a care and a conscience in my 
 calling, and grant thy blessing to the 
 lawful labours of my hand. Let the 
 fidelity of my vocation improve ray 
 talent, that I may enter into my mas- 
 ter's joy. Rouse up the dulness and 
 deadness of my heart, and quench those 
 flames of lust within me. Assist me, O 
 God, in the redemption of my time, and 
 deliver my soul from the evilness of my 
 days. Let thy providence accompany 
 my moderate endeavours, and let all 
 my employments depend upon thy pro- 
 vidence ; that, when the labours of this 
 sinful world shall cease, I may feel and 
 enjoy the benefit of a good conscience,
 
 THE PROUD MAN. 77 
 
 and obtain the rest of a new Jerusalem 
 in the eternity of glory. 
 
 THE PROUD MAN. 
 
 His Ostentation. 
 
 I'll make him feel the weight of dis- 
 pleasure, and teach him to repent his 
 saucy boldness. How dare his baseness 
 once presume to breathe so near my 
 person, much more to take my name 
 into his dunghill-mouth ? Methinks the 
 lustre of my sparkling eye might have 
 had the power to astonish him into good 
 manners, and sent him back to cast his 
 mind into a fair petition, humbly pre- 
 sented with his trembling hand ! But 
 thus to press into my presence, to press 
 so near my face, and then to speak, and
 
 78 THE PROUD MAJiT. 
 
 speak to me, as if I were his equal is 
 more than sufFerable ! The way to be 
 contemned is, to digest contempt ; but 
 he that would be honoured by the vul- 
 gar sort, must wisely keep a distance. 
 A countenance that's reserved breeds 
 fear and observ^ation ; but affability, and 
 too easy an access, makes fools too bold, 
 and reputation cheap. What price I set 
 upon my own deserts, instructs opinion 
 how to prize me. lliat which base ig- 
 norance miscalls my pride, is but a con- 
 scious knowledge of my merits. De- 
 jected souls, cravened with their own 
 distrusts, are the world's footballs, to be 
 kicked and spurned ; but brave and true 
 heroic spirits, that know the strength of 
 their own worth, shall baffle baseness 
 and presumption into a reverential si- 
 lence, and, spite of envy, flourish in an 
 honourable repute. Come then, my 
 soul, advance thy noble, thy sublimer 
 thoughts; and prize thyself according to
 
 THE PROUD MAN. TO 
 
 those parts, which all may wonder at, 
 few imitate, but none can equal. Let 
 not the insolent affronts of vassals inter- 
 rupt thy peace, nor seem one scruple 
 less than whajt thou art. Be thou thy- 
 self, respect thyself,, receive thou honour 
 from thyself, rejoice thyself in thyself, 
 and prize thyself for thyself. Like 
 Cresar, admit no equal, and like Pomr 
 pey, acknowledge no superior. Be co- 
 vetous of thine own honour, and hold 
 another's glory as thy injury. Renounce 
 humility, as an heresy in reputation; and 
 meekness, as the worst disease of a true 
 bred noble spirit. Disparage worth in 
 all, but in thyself; and make another's 
 infamy a foil to magnify thy glory. Let 
 such as have no reason to be proud, be 
 humbled of necessity ; and let them that 
 have no parts to value, be despondent : 
 but as for thee, thy cards are good; and 
 having skill enough to play thy hopeful 
 game, vie boldly, conquer, and triumph.
 
 80 THE PROUD MAN. 
 
 But stay, my soul, the trump is yet 
 unturned; boast not too soon, nor call 
 it a fair day till night ; the turning of a 
 hand may make such alterations in thy 
 flattering fortunes, that all thy glorious 
 expectations may chance to end in loss, 
 and unsuspected ruin. That God which 
 thrust the Babylonian prince from his 
 imperial throne, to graze with beasts, 
 hath said. 
 
 The Lord will destroy the house of the 
 proud, Prov. xv. 25. 
 
 Prov. xi. 
 JFhen piide cojneth, then cometh shame ; 
 
 but with the lowly is wisdom. 
 Jer. xi. 15. 
 Hear ye, and give ear, and he not proud, 
 
 for the Lord hath spoken, 
 Isaiah, ii. 12. 
 The day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon 
 
 every one that is proud and lofty, and 
 
 upon every one that is lifted up, and 
 
 he shall he brought low.
 
 THE PROUD MAN. 81 
 
 Prov. xvi. 5. 
 
 Every one that is proud in heart is an 
 
 abomination to the Lord. 
 
 St. James. 
 
 God i^ejecteth the proud, and giveth grace 
 
 to the simple. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 How wert thou muffled, O my soul ! 
 how were thine eyes bUnded with the 
 corruption of thine own heart ! When 
 I beheld myself by my own light, I 
 seemed a glorious thing ; my sun knew 
 no eclipse, and all my imperfections 
 were gilded over with vain-glory. But 
 now the day-spring from above hath 
 shined upon my heart, and the diviner 
 light hath driven away those foggy 
 mists, I find myself another thing ; my 
 diamonds are all turned pebbles, and my 
 glory is turned to shame. O my de- 
 ceived soul ! how great a darkness was 
 
 G
 
 82 THE PROUD MAN. 
 
 thy light ! The thing that seemed so 
 glorious, and sparkled in the night, by 
 day appears but rotten wood ; and that 
 bright glow- worm, which in darkness out- 
 shined the chrysolite, is, by this new- 
 found light, no better than a crawling 
 worm. How inseparable, O my soul, 
 are pride and folly ! which, like Hippo- 
 crates' twins, still live and die together. 
 It blinds the eye, befools the judgment, 
 knows no superiors, hates equals, dis- 
 dains inferiors, is the wise man's scorn, 
 and the fool's idol. Renounce it, O my 
 soul, lest thy God renounce thee. He 
 that hath threatened to resist the proud, 
 hath promised to give grace to the 
 humble ; and what true repentance 
 speaks, free mercy hears and crowns. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, the fountain of all true glory, 
 and the giver of all free gi'*ce, whose 
 4
 
 THE PROUD MAN. 83 
 
 name is only honourable, and whose 
 works are only glorious ; that she west 
 thy ways to be meek, and takest compas- 
 sion upon an humble spirit; that hatest 
 the presence of a lofty eye, and destroy- 
 est the proud in the imaginations of their 
 hearts; vouchsafe, O Lord, thy gracious 
 ear, and hear the sighing of a contrite 
 heart. I know, O God, the quality of 
 my sin can look for nothing but the 
 extremity of thy wrath. I know, the 
 crookedness of my condition can expect 
 nothing but the furnace of thy indigna- 
 tion. I know the insolence of my cor- 
 rupted nature can hope for nothing but 
 the execution of thy judgments. Yet, 
 Lord, I know withal, thou art a gra- 
 cious God, of evil repenting thee, and 
 slow to wrath. I know thy nature and 
 property is to shew compassion ; apt to 
 conceive, but readier to forgive. I know 
 thou takest no pleasure in the destructioa 
 of a sinner, but rather that he should 
 G2
 
 84 THE PROUD MAN. 
 
 repent, and live : in confidence and full 
 assurance whereof, I am here prostrate 
 on my bended knees, and with an 
 humble heart. Nor do I press into thy 
 holy presence trusting in my own me- 
 rits, lest thou shouldst deal by me as 
 I have dealt by others ; but, being en- 
 couraged by thy gracious invitation, 
 and h'^avy laden with the burden of my 
 sins, I come to thee, O God, who art 
 the refuge of a wounded soul, and the 
 sanctuary of a broken spirit. Forgive, 
 
 God, forgive me what is past recall- 
 ing, and make me circumspect for the 
 time to come. Open mine eyes, that I 
 may see how vain a thing lam, and how 
 polluted from my very birth. Give me 
 an insight of my own corruptions, that 
 
 1 may truly know and loath myself. 
 Take from me all vain-glory and self- 
 love, and make me careless of the 
 world's applause. Endue me w^ith an 
 humble heart, and take this haughty
 
 THE PROUD MAN. 85 
 
 spirit from me. Give me a true disco- 
 very of my own merits, that I may truly 
 fear and tremble at thy judgments. Let 
 not the world's contempt deject me, ror 
 the disrespects of man dismay me. Take 
 from me, O God, a scornful eye, and 
 curb my tongue that speaks presump- 
 tuous things. Plant in my heart a bro- 
 therly love, and cherish in me a chari- 
 table affection. Possess my soul with 
 patience, O God, and establish my heart 
 in the fear of thy name; that, being 
 humbled before thee, in the meekness of 
 my spirit, I may be exalted by thee 
 through the freeness of thy grace, and 
 crowned with thee in the kingdom of 
 thy glory. 
 
 G 3
 
 86 
 
 THE COVETOUS MAN. 
 
 al His Care. 
 
 ^Believe me, the times are hard and 
 dangerous. Charity is grown cold, and 
 friends uncomfortable. An empty purse 
 is full of sorrow, and hollow bags make 
 a heavy heart. Poverty is a civil pesti- 
 lence, which frights away both friends 
 and kindred, and leaves us to a ' Lord 
 have mercy upon us.' It is a sickness 
 very catching and infectious, and more 
 commonly abhorred than cured. The 
 best antidote against it is angelico and 
 providence, and the best cordial is 
 auriim potahile. Gold-taking, fasting, is 
 an approved sovereign. Debts are ill 
 humours, and turn at last to dangerous 
 obstructions. Lending is a mere con- 
 sumption of the radical humour, and, if 
 consumed, brings a patient to nothing.
 
 THE COVETOUS MAN. 87 
 
 Let others trust to courtiers' promises, to 
 friends 'performances, to princes' favours ; 
 give me a toy called gold, give me a 
 thing called money. O blessed Mam- 
 mon, how extremely sweet is thy all- 
 commanding presence to my thriving 
 soul ! in banishment, thou art my dear 
 companion ; in captivity, thou art my 
 precious ransom ; in trouble and vexa- 
 tion, thou art my dainty rest ; in sick- 
 ness, thou art my health ; in grief, my 
 only joy ; in all extremity, my only 
 trust. Virtue must vail to thee; nay, 
 grace itself, not relished with thy sweet- 
 ness, would even displease the righteous 
 palates of the sons of men. Come then, 
 my soul, advise, contrive, project. Go, 
 compass sea and land ; leave no exploit 
 untried, no path untrod, no time un- 
 spent ; afford thine eyes no sleep, thy 
 head no rest; neglect thy ravenous 
 bellv, unclothe thv back : deceive, be- 
 tray, swear and forswear to compass 
 
 G 4
 
 88 THE COVETOUS MAN. 
 
 such a friend. If thou be base in birth, 
 'twill make thee honourable; if weak 
 in power, 'twill make thee formidable; 
 are th J friends few? 'twill make them 
 numerous; is thy cause bad? 'twill make 
 thee advocates. True, wisdom is an 
 excellent help, in case it bend this way; 
 and learning is a genteel ornament, if 
 not too chargeable ; yet, by your leave, 
 they are but estates for term of life : 
 but everlasting gold, if well advantaged, 
 will not only bless thy days, but thy 
 surviving children from generation to 
 generation. Come, come, let others 
 fill their brains with dear-bought wit, 
 turn their pence into expensive charity, 
 and store their bosoms with unprofitable 
 piety ; let them lose all to save their 
 imaginary consciences, and beggar them^ 
 selves at home, to be thought honest 
 abroad ; fill thou thy bags and barns, 
 and lay up for many years, and take 
 thy rest !
 
 THE COVETOUS MAN. 8Q 
 
 But, O my soul, what follows, wounds 
 
 my heart and strikes me on my knees. 
 Thou fool, this night 2uUl I tahe thy 
 
 soul from thee. Luke, xii. 20. 
 St. Matth. vi. 24. 
 
 Ye cannot serve God and Mammon. 
 Job, XX. 15. 
 
 He hath sivalloived down riches, and he 
 shall vomit them up again ; God shall 
 cast them out of his helly. 
 Prov. XV. 17. 
 
 He that is greedy of gain, troubles his 
 own house; but he that hateth gifts 
 shall live. 
 
 2 Pet. ii. 3. 
 
 Through covetousness they shall, with 
 feigned ivords, ifiaJce merchandise of 
 you ; whose judgment now of a long 
 time lingereth not, and whose damna- 
 tion slumbereth not.
 
 90 THE COVETOUS MAN. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 What thinkest thou now, my soul ? 
 If the judgment of holy men may not 
 inform thee, let the judgments of thy 
 angry God enforce thee. Weigh thy 
 own carnal affections "with the sacred 
 oracles of heaven, and light and dark- 
 ness are not more contrary. What 
 thou approvest, thy God condemns ; 
 what thou desirest, thy God forbids. 
 Now, my soul, if Mammon be God, 
 follow him ; if God be God, adhere to 
 him. Thou canst not serv'c God and 
 Mammon. If thy , conscience feel the 
 hook, nibble no longer. Many sins 
 leave thee in the way; this follows thee 
 to thy life's end the root of evil, the 
 canker of all goodness. It blinds jus- 
 tice, poisons charity, strangles con- 
 science, beslaves the affections, betrays 
 friendship, breaks all relations. It is a
 
 THE COVETOUS MAN. Ql 
 
 root of the devil's own planting ; pluck 
 it up : think not that a pleasure which 
 God hath threatened ; nor that a blessing 
 which Heaven hath cursed : devour not 
 that which thou or thy heir must vomit 
 up : be no longer possessed with such a 
 devil, but cast him but ; and if he be too 
 strong, weaken him by fasting, and 
 exorcise him by prayer. 
 
 His Pvayer, 
 
 O God, that art the fulness of all riches, 
 and the magazine of all treasure, in the 
 enjoyment of whose favour the smallest 
 morsel is a rich inheritance, and the 
 coarsest pulse is a large portion ; with- 
 out whose blessing the greatest plenty 
 enriches not, and the highest diet 
 nourishes not ; how have I (an earth- 
 worm and no man) fixed my whole heart 
 upon this transitory world, and neglected 
 thee the only desirable good ! I blush.
 
 92 THE COVETOUS MAN. 
 
 O Lord, to confess the baseness of my 
 life, and am utterly ashamed of mine 
 own foolishness : I have placed my af- 
 fections upon the nasty rubbish of this 
 world, and have slighted the inestimable 
 pearl of my salvation : I have wallowed 
 in the mire of my inordinate desires, and 
 refused to be washed in the streams of 
 thy compassion : I have put my confi- 
 dence into the faithfulness of my servant, 
 and have doubted the providence of thee 
 my gracious Father : I have served un- 
 righteous ^lammon with greediness, and 
 have preferred dross and dung before the 
 pearly gates of New Jerusalem. Thou 
 hast promised to be all in all to those 
 that fear thee, and not to fail the soul 
 that trusts in thee ; but I refused thy 
 gracious Offer, and put my confidence in 
 the vanity of the creature : yet, gracious 
 God, to whom repentance never comes 
 unseasonable, that find'st an ear when 
 sins find a tongue, regard the contrition
 
 THE COVETOUS MAN. Q3 
 
 of a bleeding heart, and withdraw not 
 thy mercy from a penitent soul. Give 
 me new thoughts, O God, and with thy 
 holy Spirit new-mould my desires : in- 
 form my will and sanctify my affections, 
 that they may relish thy sweetness with 
 a full delight. Create in me, O God, a 
 spiritual sense, that I may take pleasure 
 in things that are above. Give me a 
 contented thankfulness for what I have, 
 that I may neither in poverty forsake 
 thee, nor in plenty forget thee. Arm 
 me with a continual patience, that I may 
 cheerfully put my trust in thy provi- 
 denoc. Moderate my care for momen^ 
 tary things, that I may use the world as 
 if I used it not. Let not the loss of anv 
 earthly good too much deject me, lest I 
 should sin with my lips and charge thee 
 foolishly. Give me a charitable hand, 
 O God, and fill my heart with brotherly 
 compassion, that I may cheerfully ex-. 
 change the corruptible treasure of this^
 
 04 THE SELF-LOVER. 
 
 world, into the incorruptible riches of 
 the world to come; and proving a faith- 
 ful steward in thj spiritual household, I 
 may give up my account with joy, and 
 be made partaker of thy eternal joy in 
 the kingdom of thy glory. 
 
 THE SELF-LOVER. 
 
 His Self-fraud, 
 
 God hath required my heart, and he shall 
 have it : God hath commanded truth in 
 the inward parts, and he shall be obeyed : 
 my soul shall praise the Lord, and all 
 that is within me, and I will serve him 
 in the strength of my desires. And in 
 Common cases the tongue's profession of 
 his name is no less then necessary : but 
 when it lies upon a life, upon the saving
 
 THE SELF-LOVER. 95 
 
 of a livelihood, upon the flat undoing of 
 a reputation, the case is altered : my life 
 is dear, my fair possessions precious, and 
 my reputation is the very apple of mine 
 eye. To save so great a stake, methinks 
 equivocation is but venal, if a sin. If 
 the true loyalty of mine heart stands 
 sound to my rcHgion and my God ; my 
 well-informed conscience tells me that 
 in such extremities my frightened tongue 
 may take the privilege of a salvo or a 
 mental reservation, if not in the expres- 
 sion of a fair compliance. What ! shall 
 the real breach of a holy Sabbath, dedi- 
 cated to God's highest glory, be tolerated 
 for the welfare of an ox? May that 
 breach be set upon the score of mercy, 
 and commended above sacrifice for the 
 safeguard of an ass ? And may I not 
 dispense with a bare lip-denial of my 
 urged religion, for the necessary preser- 
 vation of the threatened life of a man ? 
 for the sa^'ing of the whole livelihood
 
 gO THE SELF-LOVER. 
 
 and subsistence of a Christian ? What ! 
 shall I perish for the want of food, and 
 die a martyr to that foolish conscience 
 which forbids me to rub the ears of a 
 little standing corn ? Jacob could pur- 
 chase his sick father's blessing with a 
 downright lie, and may I not dissemble 
 for a hfe } The young man's great pos- 
 sessions taught his timorous tongue to 
 shrink from, and decline, his heart's pro- 
 fession ; and who could blame him ? 
 Come, if thou freely give thy house, 
 canst thou in conscience be denied a 
 hiding-room for thy protection ? The 
 Syrian Captain (he whose heart was 
 fixed on his now firmly resolved and 
 true devotion) reserved the house of 
 Rimmon for bis necessary attendance, 
 and yet went in peace. Peter (upon the 
 rock of whose confession the Church 
 was grounded), to save his liberty, with 
 a false, nay with a peijured, tongue ; 
 nay more, at such a time whenas the
 
 THE SELF-LOVER. ^7 
 
 Lord of Life (in whose behalf he drew 
 tiis sword) was questioned for his in- 
 nocent life, denied his Master ; and shall 
 I be so great an unthrift of my blood, 
 my life, to lose it for a mere lip-denial 
 of that religion, which now is settled, and 
 needs no blood to seal it ? 
 
 SuT stay 1 my conscience checks me; 
 there's a judgment thunders Hark ! 
 
 1 have sivorn hy my self j the word is 
 gone out of my iHouth m rig\teousness, 
 and shall not return ; that unto me every 
 knee shall bow, and every tongue shall 
 swear. Isaiah, xlv. 23. 
 
 Matth. X. 33. 
 He that denies me before men, him will 
 
 I dejiy before my Father which is in 
 
 heaven. 
 
 Luke, ix. 26. 
 fFhosoever shall be ashamed of me and 
 
 my tvords, of him shall the Son of 
 
 H
 
 OS THE SELF-LOVER. 
 
 Man he ashamed, when he shall come 
 hi glory, 
 
 Rom. X. 10. 
 
 Ifltli the heart man helicveth unto r'lgh" 
 teoiisnesSy and ivitk the mouth confes- 
 sion is made to salvation, 
 2 Tim. iii. 1, 2, 
 
 know that in the latter days perilous 
 times shall come : 
 
 For men shall be lovers of their own 
 selves. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 My soul, in such a time as this, when 
 the civil sword is warm with slaughter*, 
 and the wasting kingdom welters in her 
 blood, wouldst thou not give thy life to 
 ransom her from ruin ? Is not the God 
 of heaven and earth worth many king- 
 doms? Is thy welfare more consider- 
 
 * The above was written during the civil wars 
 between Charles I. and the Parliament. Editor. 
 
 3
 
 THE SELF-LOVER. QQ 
 
 able than his glory ? darest thou deny 
 him for thy own ends, that denied thee 
 nothing for thy good ? Is a poor clod 
 of earth (we call inheritance) prizeable 
 with his greatness ? or a puff of breath 
 (w^e call life) valuable with his honour, 
 in comparison of whom the very angels 
 are impure ? Blush, O my soul, at thy 
 own guilt : he that accounted his blood, 
 his life, not worth the keeping to ransom 
 thee, a wretch, lost by thy own rebel- 
 liondeserves he not the abatement of a 
 lust, to keep him from a new crucifying? 
 My soul, if religion bind thee not, if 
 judgments terrify thee not, if natural af- 
 fection incline thee not, yet let common 
 reason persuade thee to love Him above 
 a trifle, that loved thee above his life : 
 and thou that hast so often denied him, 
 deny thyself' for ever, and he will own 
 thee : repent, and he will pardon thee ; 
 pray to him, and he will hear thee. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 THE SELF-LOVER. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 ;:; O God, whose glory is the end of my 
 creation, and whose free mercy is the 
 cause of my redemption; that gavest thy 
 Son, thy only Son, to die for me, who 
 else had perished in the common deluge 
 of thy wrath ; what shall I render for so 
 great a mercy ? What thankfulness shall 
 I return for so infinite a love ? Alas ! the 
 most that I can do, is nothing ; the best that 
 I can present is, worse than nothing, sin. 
 Lord, if I yield my body for a sacrifice, I 
 offer nothing but a lump of filth, and 
 loathsome putrefaction ; or if I give my 
 soul in contribution, I yield thee nothing 
 but thy image quite defaced and polluted 
 with my lusts ; or if I spend the strength 
 of the whole man, and with both heart 
 and tongue confess and magnify thy 
 name how can the praises of my sin- 
 ful lips, that breathe from such a sink, 
 %G pleasing to thee ? But, Lord, since
 
 THE SELF-LOVER. 1 01 
 
 thou art pleased in thy well-pleasing Son 
 to accept the poverty of my weak en- 
 deavours, send down thy Holy Spirit 
 into my heart, cleanse it from the filth 
 of my corruptions, and make it fit to 
 praise thee : Lord, open thou my mouth, 
 and my lips shall shew forth thy praise. 
 Put a new song into my mouth, and I 
 will praise thee and confess thee all day 
 long ; I will not hide thy goodness in my 
 mouth, but will be shewing forth thy 
 truth, and thy salvation ; let thy praises 
 be my honour, and let thy goodness be 
 the subject of my undaunted song. Let 
 neither reputation, wealth, nor life be 
 precious to me in comparison with thee: 
 let not the world's derision daunt me, 
 nor examples of infirmity deject me. 
 Give me courage and wisdom to stand, 
 for thy honour. Oh ! make me worthy, 
 able, and willing to suffer for thy name. 
 Lord, teach me to deny myself, and to 
 resist the motions of my own corrup- 
 H 3
 
 103 THE SELF- LOVER. 
 
 tions: create in me, O God, a single 
 heart, that I may love the Lord Jesus in 
 sincerity; remember not, O Lord, the 
 sins of my fear, and pardon the hypocrisy 
 of my self-love. Wash me from the 
 stains and guilt of this my heinous of- 
 fence, and deliver me from this fearful 
 judgment thou hast threatened in thy 
 word. Convince all the arguments of 
 my unsanctified wit, whereby I have 
 become an advocate to my sin. Grant 
 that my life may adorn my profession, 
 and make my tongue an instrument of 
 thy glory. Assist me, O God, that I 
 may praise thy goodness, and declare thy 
 wonders among the children of men : 
 strengthen my faith, that it may trust 
 thee ; and let my works so shine, that 
 men may praise thee ; that my heart be- 
 lieving unto righteousness, and my tongue 
 confessins: to salvation, I mav be acknow- 
 ledged by thee here, and glorified by 
 thee in the kingdom of glory.
 
 _103 
 THE WORLDLY MAN. 
 
 His Verdure. 
 
 For aught I see, the case is even the 
 same with him that prays, and him that 
 does not pray ; with him that swears, 
 and him that fears an oath : I see no 
 difference ; if any, those that they call 
 the wicked have the advantage. Their 
 crops are even as fair, their flocks as nu- 
 merous as theirs that wear the ground 
 with their religious knees, and fast their 
 bodies to a skeleton ; nay, in the use of 
 blessings (which only makes them so) 
 they far exceed ; they term me repro- 
 bate, and style me unregenerate : 'tis 
 true, I eat my labours with a jolly heart, 
 drink frolic cups, sweeten my pains with 
 time-beguiling sports, make the best ad- 
 vantage of my own, pray when I think 
 on't, swear when they urge me, hear 
 H4
 
 104 THE WORLDLY MAN. 
 
 sermons at my leisure, follow the lusts 
 of my own eyes, and take the pleasure 
 of my own ways; and yet, God be 
 thanked, my barns are furnished, my 
 sheep stand sound, my cattle strong for 
 labour, my pastures rich and flourishing, 
 my body healthful, and my bags are 
 full 5 whilst they that are so pure, and 
 make such conscience of their ways ; 
 that -run to ' sermons, jig to lectures, 
 pray thric^' a day by the hour, hold 
 'faith and' troth y profane, and drinking 
 healths a sin, do often find scanty har- 
 vests, lean flocks, and empty purses. 
 Let them be godly that can live on air 
 "and faith; and, eaten up by zeal, can 
 whine themselves into an hospital, or 
 bless their lips with charitable scraps. 
 If godliness have this reward, to have 
 short meals for long prayers, weak 
 estates for strong faiths, and good con- 
 sciences upon such bad conditions, let 
 them boast of their pennyworths, and
 
 THE WORLDLY MAN. lOS 
 
 let me be wicked still, and take my 
 chance as falls ! Let me have judgment 
 to discover a profitable farm, and wit to 
 take it at an easy rent, and gold to stock 
 it in a liberal manner, and skill to ma- 
 nage it to my best advantage, and luck 
 to find a good increase, and providence 
 to husband wisely what I gain ; I seek 
 no further, and I wish no more. Hus- 
 bandry and religion are two several oc- 
 cupations, and look two several ways, 
 and he is the or^ly wise man that can 
 reconcile them. 
 
 But stay, my soul, I fear thy reckon- 
 ing fails thee. If thou hast judgment to 
 discover, wit to bargain, gold to em- 
 ploy, skill to manage, providence to 
 dispose, canst thou command the clouds 
 to drop ? Or if a wet season meet thy 
 harvest, and with open sluices over- 
 whelm thy hopes, canst thou let down 
 the floodgates, and stop the watery flux?
 
 106 THE WORLDLY MAN. 
 
 Canst thou command the sim to shine ? 
 Canst thou forbid the mildews, or cop- 
 trol the breath of the mahgnant east? 
 Is not this God's sole prerogative ? And 
 hath not that God said, 
 
 IVhen the t^orkers of iniquity doflou- 
 risk, it is they that shall he destroyed 
 fmr ever. Psal, xcii. 12. 
 
 Job, xxi. 7. 
 Wherefore do the wiclted live, become 
 
 oldy yea are mighty in power ? 
 J5. Their seed is established iti their sight, 
 
 and their offspring before their eyes. 
 0. Their houses a7^e safe from fear, nei^ 
 
 ther is the wrath of God upon them. 
 
 10. Their hidl gender eth, and failcth 
 not, their cow calveth, and casteth not 
 her calf. 
 
 1 1 . They send forth their little ones like 
 a jlocky ayid their children dance. 
 
 12. They take the timbrel and the harp, 
 ,^ q.nd rejoice at the sound of the organ. 
 
 13. They spend their days in wealth.
 
 THE WORLDLY MAN. 107 
 
 and IN A MOMENT THEY GO DOWJjC 
 TO THE GHAVE. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 How sweet a feast is, till the reckon- 
 ing come ! A fair day ends often in a 
 cold night, and the road that's pleasant, 
 ends in hell: if worldly pleasures had 
 the promise of continuance, prosperity 
 were some comfort ; but in this neces- 
 sary vicissitude of good and evil, the 
 prolonging of adversity sharpens it. It 
 is no common thing, my soul, to enjoy 
 two heavens. Dives found it in th 
 present, Lazarus in the future. Hath 
 thy increase met with no damage ? thy 
 reputation with no scandal ? thy plea- 
 sure with no cross ? thy prosperity with 
 no adversity ? Presume not : God's 
 checks are symptoms of his mercy ; 
 but his silence is the harbinger of a 
 judgment. Be circumspect and provi-
 
 1 08 THE WORLDLY MAS'. 
 
 dent, my soul. Hast thou a fair sum- 
 mer ? provide for a hard winter. The 
 world's river ebbs alone ; it flows not. 
 He that goes merrily with the stream, 
 must bale up. Flatter thyself therefore 
 no longer in thy prosperous sin, O my 
 deluded soul! but be truly sensible of 
 thy own presumption. Look seriously 
 into thy approaching danger, and humble 
 thyself with true contrition. If thou 
 procure sour herbs, God will provide 
 1ms passover. '' '\" i lu'^h:.,' 
 
 J , Hts Prayer, 
 
 Ho^v vreak is man, O God, when 
 thou forsakest him ! How foolish are 
 his counsels, when he' plots without 
 thee ! How wild his progress, when he 
 wanders from thee ! How miserable till 
 he return unto thee ! How his wdt fails ! 
 How his wisdom falters ! How his 
 wealth melts! How his providence is
 
 THE WORLDLY MAN. lO^ 
 
 befooled ! and how his soul beslaved ! 
 Thou strikest off the chariot-wheels of 
 his inventions, and he is perplexed. 
 Thou conioundest the Babel of his ima- 
 ginations, and he is troubled. Thoa 
 crossest his designs that he may fear 
 thee, and thou stoppest him in his ways 
 that he may know thee. How merciful 
 art thou, O God ! and in thy very judg- 
 ments. Lord, how gracious! Thou 
 mightest have struck me into the lowest 
 pit as easily as on these bended knees, 
 and yet been justified in my confusion. 
 But thou hast threatened like a gentle 
 father, as loath to punish thy ungra- 
 cious child. Thou k no west the crooked 
 thoughts of man are vain, still turning 
 point to their contriver's ruin. Thou 
 sawest me wandering in the maze of 
 death, whilst I with violence pursued 
 my own destruction. But thou, hast 
 warned me by thy sacred word, and 
 took me off, that I might live to praise
 
 115 THE WORLDLY MAN. 
 
 thee. Thou art my confidence, O God, 
 Thou art the rock, the rock of my sal- 
 vation. Thy word shall be my guide, 
 for all thy paths are mercy and truth. 
 Lord, when I look upon my former 
 worldliness, I utterly abhor my con- 
 versation. Strengthen me with thy as- 
 sistance, that I may lead a new life. 
 Make me more and more sensible of my 
 own condition, and perfect thou the 
 good work thou hast begun in me. In 
 all my designs be thou my Counsellor, 
 that I may prosper in my undertakings. 
 In all my actions be thou my Guide, that 
 I may keep the path of thy command- 
 ments. Let all my own devices come 
 to nought, lest I presume upon the arm 
 of flesh. Let not my wealth increase 
 without thy blessing, lest I be fatted up 
 against the day of slaughter. Have thou 
 a hand in all my just employments, then 
 prosper thou the work of my hands; oh, 
 prosper thou mj handy work ! That little
 
 THE LASCnaOFS MAX. Ill 
 
 I enjoy, confirm it to nie, and make it 
 mine who have no interest in it, till thou 
 own me as thy child. Then shall my 
 soiil rejoice in thy favours, and magnify 
 thy name for all thy mercies. Then sh^ll 
 my lips proclaim thy loving kindness, 
 and sing thy praises for ever and for 
 ever. 
 
 THE LASCIVIOUS MAX. 
 
 His Heaven. 
 
 Can flesh and blood be so unnatural 
 to forget the laws of nature ? Can blow- 
 ing youth immure itself within the icy 
 walls of vestal chastity ? Can lusty diet, 
 and mollitious rest, bring forth no other 
 fruits but faint desires, rigid thoughts, 
 and phlegmatic conceits ? Should we be
 
 112 THE LASCIVIOUS MAJT. 
 
 stocks and stones, and (having active 
 isouls) turn altogether passives ? Must 
 we turn anchorites, and spend our days 
 in caves and hermitages, and smother 
 up our precious hours in cloistered 
 folly and recluse devotion ? Can rosy 
 cheeks, can ruby lips, can snowy breasts 
 and sparkhng eyes, present their beau- ' 
 ties and perfections to the sprightly view 
 of young mortality, and must we stand 
 likestatues, without sense or motion? Can 
 strict Religion impose such cruel tasks, 
 and even impossible commands, upon 
 the raging thoughts of her unhappy 
 votaries, as to withstand and contradict 
 the instinct and very principles of na- 
 ture ? Can fair-pretending Piety be so 
 barbarous to condemn us to the flames 
 of our affections, and make us martyrs 
 to our own desires ? Is't not enough to 
 conquer the rebellious actions of impe- 
 rious Flesh, but must we manacle her 
 hands, darken her eyes nay, worse, re-
 
 THE LASCIVIOUS MAN. 113 
 
 strain the freedom of her very thoughts? 
 Can full perfection be expected here ? Or 
 can our work be perfect in this vale of 
 imperfection ? This were a life for an- 
 gels, but a task too hard for frail, for 
 transitory man. Come, come, we are 
 but men, but flesh and blood, and our 
 born frailties cannot grapple with such 
 potent tyranny. What nature and ne- 
 cessity require us to do, is venial, being 
 done. Come, strive no more against so 
 strong a stream, but take thy fill of 
 beauty ; solace thy wanton heart with 
 amorous contemplations ; clothe all thy 
 words with courtly rhetoric, and soften 
 thy lips with dialects of love ; surfeit 
 thyself with pleasure, and melt thy pas- 
 sion into warm delights ; walk into na- 
 ture's universal bower, and pick what 
 flower does most surprise thine eye; 
 drink of all waters, but be tied to none ; 
 spfire neither cost nor pains to compass 
 thy desires ; enjoy varieties ; emparadise 
 I
 
 114 THE LASCIVIOUS MAN. 
 
 thy soul in fresh delights. The change 
 of pleasure miikes thy pleasure double. 
 Ravish thy senses with perpetual choice, 
 and glut thy soul with all the delicacies 
 of love. 
 
 But hold ! There is a voice that whis- 
 pers in my troubled ear a voice that 
 blanks my thoughts, and stops the 
 course of my resolves ; a voice that 
 chills the bosom of my soul, and fills 
 me with amazement. Hark! 
 
 Tkey which do such things shall not 
 inherit the kingdom of God. Gal. v. 2 1 . 
 
 Exod. XX. 14. 
 Thou shalt not commit adultery. 
 
 Matth. V. 28. 
 Whosoever looks upon a woman to lust 
 
 after her^ hath committed adultery 
 
 ivith her already in his heart. 
 Rom. xiii. 13. 
 Let us walk honestly as in the day, not
 
 THE LASCIVIOUS MAN. 115 
 
 in rioting, 7ior in drunkenness,' nor ifi 
 chambering, nor in ivantonness. 
 1 Pet. ii. 11. 
 Abstain from fiesJily lusts, tvhich zvar 
 against the soul, ' 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Lust is a brand of original fire, raked 
 up in the embers of flesh and blood ; un- 
 covered by a natural inclination, blown 
 by corrupt communication, quenched 
 with fasting and humiliation. It is 
 raked up in the best, uncovered in the 
 most, and blown in thee, O my lustful 
 soul ! Oh, turn thine ear from the plead- 
 ings of nature, and make a covenant 
 with thine eyes ! Let not the language 
 of Delilah enchant tbe^, lest the hands 
 of the Philistines surprise thee. Review 
 thy past pleasures, with the charge and 
 pains thou hadst to compass them, and 
 shew me where 's thy pennyworth ? 
 12
 
 116 THE LASCflYlOUS MAN. 
 
 Joresee what punishments are prepared! 
 to meet thee, and tell me, what's thj 
 purchase ? Thou hast bartered away thy 
 God for a lust ; sold thy eternity for a 
 trifle. If this bargain may not be re- 
 called by tears, dissolve thee, O my 
 soul, into a spring of waters. If pot tQ 
 be reversed with price, reduce thy whole 
 estate into a sackcloth, alid an ash-tub. 
 Thou, whose liver hath scorched in the 
 flanx-es of lust, humble thy heart in the 
 ashes of repentance. And as with Esau 
 tfeou hast sold thy birthright for broth,' 
 so, with Jacob, wrestle by prayer till 
 thou get a blessing, 
 
 His Prayei-, 
 
 O God, before whose face the angels 
 ^re impure; before whose clear omni-. 
 science all actions appear ; to w^hom the 
 very secrets of the heart are open ; I 
 here acknowledge to thy glory and my
 
 tttE LASCtVlOtrs MAI?. 117 
 
 shame, the filthiness and vile impurity 
 of my nature* Lord, I was filthy in my 
 very conception, and in filthiness my 
 mother's womb enclosed me ; brought 
 forth in filthiness, and filthy in my very 
 innocency ; filthy in the motions of my 
 
 . flesh, and filthy in the apprehensions 
 of my soul ; *my words all clothed 
 with filthiness ; and in all my actions 
 
 'filthy and unclean : in my inclination 
 filthy, and in the whole course of my 
 life nothing but a continued filthiness. 
 Wash me, O God, and make me clean ; 
 cleanse me from the filthiness of my 
 corruption. Purge me, O Lord, with 
 hyssop, and create a clean heart within 
 me. Correct the vagrant motions of my 
 flesh, and quench the fiery darts of Sa- 
 tan. I^t not the law of my corrupted 
 members rule me. Oh! let concupiscence 
 have no dominion over me. Give me 
 courage to fight against my lusts, and 
 give my weajcness strength to overcome^ 
 I 3
 
 118 THE LASCIVIOUS MAI^. 
 
 Make sharp my sword against this body 
 of sin, but most against my Delilah, my 
 bosom sin. Deliver me from the tyranny 
 of temptation; or give me power to sub- 
 due it. Confine the liberty of my wan- 
 ton appetite, and give me temperance in 
 a sober diet. Grant me a heart to strive 
 .with thee in prayer, and hopeful pa- 
 tience to attend thy leisure. Keep me 
 from the habit of an idle life, and close 
 mine ears against corrupt communica- 
 tion. Set thou a watch before my lips, 
 that all my words may savour of so- 
 briety. Preserve me from the vanity 
 and pride of life, that I may w^alk 
 blameless in mv conversation. Protect 
 me from the fellowship of the unclean, 
 and from all such as are of evil report. 
 Let thy grace, O God, be sufficient for 
 me, to protect my soul from the buffet- 
 tings of Satan. Make me industrious 
 and diligent in my calling, lest the 
 enemy get advantage over me. In all
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. IIQ 
 
 my temptations let me have recourse to 
 thee. Be thou my refuge when I call 
 upon thee. Forgive, O God, the sins 
 of my youth. Oh! pardon the multitudes 
 of my secret sins. Increase my hatred 
 to my former life, and strengthen my 
 resolution for the time future. Hear 
 me, O God, and let the words of my 
 mouth be always acceptable to thee, O 
 God, my strength and my Redeemer. 
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 
 
 His Profanation. 
 
 The glittering prince that sits upon his 
 regal and imperial throne, and the ig- 
 noble peasant that sleeps within his 
 sordid house of thatch, are both alike to 
 God. An ivory temple, and a church 
 I 4
 
 120 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 
 
 of clay, are prized alike by him. The 
 flesh of bulls, and the perfumes of myrrh 
 and cassia, smoke his altars with an 
 equal pleasure. And does he make such 
 difference of days ? Is he, that was so 
 weary of the new moons, so taken 
 with the sun, to tie his Sabbath to that 
 only day ? The tenth in tithes is any one 
 in ten, and why the seventh day not any 
 one in seven ? We sanctify the day, the 
 day not us. But are we Jews ? Are we 
 still bound to keep a legal Sabbath in the 
 strictness of the letter ? Have the Gen- 
 tiles no privilege by the virtue of jNIes- 
 siah's coming ? or has the evangelical 
 Sabbath no immunities ? The service 
 done, the day is discharged, my liberty 
 restored : and if I meet my profits or 
 my pleasures then, I'll give them enter- 
 tainment. If business call me to ac* 
 count, I dare afford a careful ear. Or, 
 if my sports invite me, I'll entertain 
 them with a cheerful heart. I'll go to' 
 5
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 121 
 
 matins with as much devotion as my 
 neighbour; I'll make as low obeisance 
 and as just responses as any ; but soon 
 as evensong is ended, my church-devo- 
 tion and my psalter shall sanctify my 
 pew till the next Sabbhth call. Were it 
 no more for an old custom's sake, than 
 for the good I find in Sabbaths, that ce- 
 remony might as well be spared. It is 
 a day of rest: and what's a rest? A 
 relaxation from the toil of labour: and 
 what is labour but a painful exercise of 
 the frail body ? But where the exercise 
 admits no toil, there relaxation makes 
 no rest. What labour is it for the 
 worldly man to compass sea and land to 
 accomplish his desires ? W^hat labour is 
 it for the impatient lover to measure 
 Flellespont with his widened arms to 
 hasten his delight? What labour for the 
 youth to number music with their 
 sprightly paces ? Where pleasure is re- 
 conciled to labour, labour is but an ac-
 
 122 THE SABBATH-BREAKER* 
 
 tive rest. Why should the Sabbath 
 then, a day of rest, divorce thee from 
 those dehghts that make thy rest ? Af- 
 flict their souls that please, my rest shall 
 be what most conduces to my heart's 
 delight. Two htjurs will vent more 
 prayers than I shall need, the rest re- 
 mains for pleasure. 
 
 Conscience, why start'st thou ? A 
 
 judgment strikes me from the mouth of 
 
 heaven, and saith. 
 
 Whosoever doth any ivorJc on my Sab^ 
 
 hath, his soul shall be cut off. Exod. 
 
 xxxi. 14. 
 
 Exod. XX. 8. 
 
 jRemember to keep holy the Sabbath day ; 
 six days shall thou labour, and do all 
 that thou hast to do; but the seventh day 
 is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God. 
 : . Exod. xxxi. 14. 
 
 Ye shall keep my Sabbath, for it is holy 
 unto you.
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 123 
 
 Exod. xxxi. 13. 
 Verily my Sabbaths thou shalt keep, for 
 this is a sign betwixt 7ne and yoUj 
 throughout your generations. 
 Luke, xxiii. 5Q. 
 And they returned, and prepared spices 
 and ointments, and rested on the Sab- 
 bath day, according to the command- 
 ment. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 My soul, how hast thou profaned 
 that day thy God hath sanctified ! How 
 hast thou encroached on that which 
 Heaven hath set apart ! If thy impa- 
 . tience cannot act a Sabbath twelve 
 hours, what happiness canst thou ex- 
 pect in a perpetual Sabbath? Is six 
 days too little for thyself, and two hours 
 too much for thy God? O my soul, how 
 dost thou prize temporals beyond eter- 
 nals ! Is it equal that God, who gave
 
 124 TME SABBATH-fiREAKElt* 
 
 thee a body, and six days to provide foi* 
 it, should demand one day of thee, and 
 be denied it ? How liberal a receiver art 
 thou, and how miserable a requiter ! 
 But know, my soul, his Sabbaths are the 
 apple of his eye. He that hath power 
 to vindicate the breach of it, hath 
 threatened judgments to the breaker of 
 it. The God of mercy that hath miti- 
 gated the rigour of it for charity's sake, 
 will not diminifih the honour of it for 
 profaneness' sake. Forget not, then, 
 my soul, to remember his Sabbaths, and 
 remember not to forget his judgments, 
 lest he forget to remember thee in 
 mercy. What thou hast neglected, be- 
 wail with contrition ; and what thou 
 hast repented, forsake with resolution ; 
 and what thou hast resolved, strengthen 
 with devotion.
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 125 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 O ETERNAL, just, and all- discerning 
 Jiidge ; in thyself, glorious ; in thy Son, 
 gracious ; who triest without a witness, 
 and condemnest without a jury; oh! 
 I confess my very actions have betrayed 
 me. Thy word hath brought in evidence 
 against me; my own conscience hath wit- 
 nessed against me; and thy judgment hath 
 passed sentence against me ! And what 
 have I now to plead but mine own mi- 
 seryand whither should that misery 
 flee but to the God of mercy? And 
 since, O Lord, the way to mercy is to 
 leave myself, I here disclaim all inte- 
 rest in myself, and utterly renounce my- 
 self, I, that w^as created for thy glory, 
 have dishonoured thy name. I, that 
 w^as made for thy service, have profaned 
 thy Sabbaths. I have slighted thy opdi- 
 Tiances, and turned my back upon thy
 
 126 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 
 
 sanctuary. I have neglected thy sacra- 
 ments, abused, thy word, despised thy 
 ministers, and despised their ministry. 
 I have come into thy courts with an 
 unprovided heart, and have drawn near 
 with uncircumcised lips. And, Lord, I 
 know thou art a jealous God, and most 
 severe against all such as violate thy 
 rest. The glory of thy name is precious 
 to thee, and thine honour is as the apple 
 of thine eye. But thou, O God, that 
 art the God of hosts, hast published ancj 
 declared thyself the Lord of mercy. The 
 constitution of thy Sabbath was a work 
 of time ; but, Lord, thy mercy is from 
 all eternity. I, that have broke thy Sab- 
 baths, do here present thee with a broken 
 heart. Thy hand is not shortened, that 
 thou canst not heal ; nor thy ear deafened, 
 that thou canst not hear. Stretch forth 
 thy hand, O God, and heal my wounds. 
 Bow down thine ear, O I^ord, and hear 
 my prayers. Alter the fabric of my
 
 THE SABBATH-BREAKER. 127 
 
 sinful heart, and make it tender of thy 
 glory. Make me ambitious of thy ser- 
 vice,, and let thy Sabbaths be my whole 
 delight. Give me a holy reverence of 
 thy v^ord, that it may prove a light to 
 my steps, and a lantern to my feet. 
 Endue my heart with charity and faith, 
 that I may find a comfort in thy sacra- 
 ments. Bless thou the ministers of thy 
 sacred word, and make them holy in 
 their lives, sound in their doctrines, and 
 laborious in their callings. Preserve the 
 universal church in these distracted 
 times. Give her peace, unity, and uni- 
 formity. Purge her of all schism, error, 
 and superstition. Let the King's daugh- 
 ter be all glorious within, and let thine 
 eyes take pleasure in her beauty ; that 
 being honoured here to be a member of 
 her militant, I may be glorified with her 
 triumphant.
 
 THE CENSORIOUS MAX. 
 
 His Criminaiion/ 
 
 I KNOW there is much of the seed 
 of the serpent in him by his very 
 looks, if his words betrayed him 
 not. He hath eaten the egg of the 
 cockatrice, and surely he remaineth in 
 the state of perdition. He is not within 
 the covenant, and abideth in the gall of 
 bitterness. His studied prayers shew 
 him to be a high malignant, and his 
 Jc&u-ivorship concludes him popishly 
 affected. He comes not to our private 
 meetings, nor contributes a penny to. 
 the cause. He cries up learning, and 
 the Book of Commou Prayer, and takes 
 no arms to hasten reformation. He 
 fears God for his own ends, for the spi- 
 rit of Antichrist is in him. His eyes are 
 fUll of adulterieSj and he goes a-whqring
 
 THE CENSORIOUS MAN. t2Q 
 
 iafter his own inventions. He can hear 
 an oath from his superiors without re- 
 proof, and the heathenish gods named 
 without spitting in his face : wherefore 
 my soul detesteth him, and I will have 
 no conversation with him ; for what 
 fellowship hath light with darkness, or 
 the pure in heart with the unclean? 
 Sometimes he is a publican, sometimes 
 a pharisee, and always an hypocrite. He 
 rails against the altar as loud as w^e, and 
 yet he cringes and makes an idol of the 
 name of Jesus. He is quick-sighted to 
 the infirmities of the saints, and in his 
 heart reioices at our failing^s. He ho- 
 nours not a preaching ministry, and too 
 much leans to a church government. He 
 paints devotion on his face, whilst pride 
 is- stamped within his heart. He places 
 sanctity in the w^alls of a steeple house, 
 and adores the sacrament with his popish 
 knee. His religion is a weathercock, 
 which turns its breast to every blast of 
 
 K
 
 130 THE CENSORIOUS UA^^ 
 
 wind. With the pure he seems pure, and 
 with the wicked he will join in fellow-' 
 ship. A sober language is in his mouth> 
 but the poison of asps is under his tongue. 
 His works conduce not to edification, 
 nor are the motions of his heart sancti- 
 fied. He adores great ones for prefer- 
 ment, and speaks too partially of autho- 
 rity. He is a Laodicean in his faith, a 
 Nicolaitan in his works, a pharisee in his 
 disguise, a rank papist in his heart, and 
 I thank my God ' I am not as this man.*^ 
 
 But stay, my soul ; take heed, whilst 
 thou judge another, lest God judge thee. 
 How comest thou so expert in another's 
 heart, being so often djeceived in thy 
 own ? A Saul to-day may prove a Paul 
 to-morrow. Take heed whilst thou 
 wouldst seem religious, thou appear not 
 uncharitable; and whilst thou judgest 
 man, thou be not judged of God, who 
 saith
 
 TlSE CENSORIOLTS MAJS". ISl 
 
 ' Judge not, lest ye he judged, Matlh. 
 
 Vii. 1. 
 
 John, vii. 24. 
 
 Judge not according to appearance, but 
 judge righteous judgment . 
 Rom. xiv. 10. 13. 
 
 But why dost thou judge thy brother P 
 or ivhy dost thou set at nought thy 
 brother^ We shall all stand before 
 the judgment-seat of Christ. 
 
 Let lis not therefore judge one another 
 
 any more, but judge this rather, that 
 
 no man put a stumbling-block, or an 
 
 accusation to jail in his brother s way, 
 
 1 Cor. iv. 5. 
 
 Judge nothing before the time, until the 
 
 Lord come; ivho ivill both bring to light 
 
 the hidden things of darkness, and will 
 
 make manifest the counsel of the heart, 
 
 Psal. 1. 0. 
 
 God is Judge himself 
 
 k2
 
 132 *rnt cENsonious maij. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Has thy brother, O my soul, a beam 
 in his eye, and hast thou no mote in 
 thine ? Clear thine own, and thou wilt 
 see the better to cleanse his. If a thief 
 be in his candle, blow it not out, lest 
 thou wrong the flame ; but if thy snuf- 
 fers be of gold, snuff it. Has he of- 
 fended thee ? forgive him : hath he 
 trespassed against the congregation ? 
 reprove him : hath he sinned against 
 God ? pray for him. O my soul, how 
 uncharitable hast thou been ! how pha- 
 risaically hast thou judged ! Being sick 
 of the jaundice, how hast thou censured 
 another yellow- and with blotted fingers 
 made his blur the greater ? How has the 
 pride of thy own heart blinded thee to- 
 ward thyself! how quick-sighted to 
 another ! Thy brother has slipped, but 
 thou hast fallen ; and hast blanched thy
 
 THE CENSORIOUS MAN. X33 
 
 own impiety with the publishing his sin. 
 Like a fly, thou stingest his sores, , and 
 feedest on his corruptions. Jesus came 
 eating and drinking, and was judged 
 a glutton. John came fasting, and was 
 challenged with being a devil. Judge 
 not, my soul, lest thou be judged. 
 Malign not thy brother, lest God laugh 
 at thy destruction. Wouldst thou escape 
 the punishment .^ judge thyself. Wouldst 
 thou avoid the sin ? humble thyself. 
 
 His Frayer, 
 
 O God, that art the only Searcher of 
 the reins, to whom the secrets of the 
 heart of man are only known, to whom 
 alone the judgment of our thoughts, qur 
 words, and deeds belong, and to whose 
 sentence we must stand or fall I, a pre- 
 sumptuous sinner, that have thrust into 
 thy place, and boldly have presumed to 
 execute thy office, do here as humbly 
 K 3
 
 134 THE CENSORIOUS MAN. 
 
 confess the insolence of mine attempt, 
 and, with a sorrowful heart, repent me 
 of my doings ; and though my con- 
 vinced conscience can look for nothing 
 from thy wrathful hand but the same 
 measux'e which I measured to. another^ 
 yet, in the confidence of that mercy 
 which thou hast promised to all those 
 that truly and unfeignedly believe, I am 
 become an humble suitor for thy gra- 
 cious pardon. Lord, if thou search rne 
 but with a favourable eye, 1 shall appear 
 much more unrighteous in thy sight 
 than this my uncharitably condemned 
 brother did in mine. Oh, look not there- 
 fore. Lord, upon me as I am, lest thou 
 abhor me; but through the merits of 
 mj blessed Saviour cast a gracious eye 
 upon me. Let his humility satisfy for 
 my presumption, and let his meritorious 
 sufferings answer for my yile uncha- 
 ritableness. Let not the voice of my 
 offence provoke thee with a stronger
 
 THE CENSORIOUS MAN. 135 
 
 cty than the language of his interces-^ 
 sion. Remove from me, O God, all 
 spiritual pride, and make me little in 
 my own conceit. Lord, light me to 
 myself, that by thy light I may discern 
 how dark I am. Lighten that darkness 
 by thy Holy Spirit^ that I may search 
 into my own corruptions. And since, " 
 
 God, all gifts and graces are but no- 
 thing, and nothing can be acceptable in 
 thy sight, without charity, quicken the 
 dulness of my faint affections, that I 
 may love my brother as I ought. Soften 
 my marble heart, that it may melt at his 
 infirmities. Make me careful in the exa- 
 mination of my own ways, and most 
 severe against my own offences. Pull 
 out the beam of mine ow?i eye, that 
 
 1 may see clearly, and. reprove wisely. 
 Take from me, O Lord, all grudging, 
 envy, and malice, that my seasonable 
 reproofs may win my brother. Preserve 
 my heart ^'pm all censorious thoughts, 
 
 E.4
 
 136 THi; LIAR. 
 
 and keep my tongue from striking at hia 
 name. Grant that I make right use of 
 his infirmities, and read good lessons in 
 his faihngs; that loving him in thee, and 
 thee in him, according to thy command, 
 we may both be united in thee as mem- 
 bers of thee : that thou may est receive 
 honour from our communion here, and 
 we eternal glory from thee, hereafter, in 
 the vi^orld to come. 
 
 .. 
 
 
 .4iAr 
 
 
 
 THE LIAR. 
 
 - 
 
 His Fallacies. 
 
 Nay, if religion be so strict a law, to 
 bind my tongue to the necessity of a 
 truth on all occasions, at all times, and 
 in all places, the gate is too strait for 
 me to enter. Or if the general rules of
 
 THE LIAR. 137 
 
 downright truth will admit no few ex- 
 ceptionSy farewell all honest mirth, fare- 
 well all trading, farewell the whole con- 
 verse betwixt man and man ! If always 
 to speak punctual truth be the true 
 symptoms of a blessed soul, Tom Tell- 
 truth has a happy time, and fools and 
 children are the only men ! If Truth 
 sit regent, in what faithful breast shall 
 se(::rets find repose ? what kingdom can 
 be safe ? what commonwealth can be 
 secure ? what war can be successful ? 
 what stratagem can prosper ? If bloody 
 times should force religion to shroud it- 
 self beneath my roof upon demand, 
 shall my false truth betray it ? Or shall 
 my brother's life, or shall my own, be 
 seized upon through the cruel truth of 
 my downright confession ? or rather not 
 be secured by a fair officious lie ? Shall 
 the righteous favourite* of Egypt's ty- 
 
 * Joseph. This alUides to the meeting of his 
 brethren in Pharaoh's house, Editor.
 
 138 THE LIAR. 
 
 rant, by virtue of a loud lie, sweeten out 
 his joy and heighten up his soft affec- 
 tion with the antiperistans of tears and 
 may I not prevaricate with a sullen truth, 
 to save a brother's life from a blood- 
 thirsty hand ? Shall Jacob, and his too 
 indulgent mother, conspire in a lie to 
 purchase a paternal blessing in the 
 false name and habit of a supplanted 
 brother^-and shall 1 question to' preserve 
 the granted blessing of a lite, or liveli- 
 hood, with a harmless lie ? Come, come, 
 my soul, let not thy timorous conscience 
 check at such poor things as these. So 
 Jong as thy officious tongue aims at a 
 just end, a lie is no offence. So long as 
 thy perjurious lips confirm not thy un- 
 truth with an audacious brow, thou 
 need'st riot fear. The weight of the 
 caus/s relieves the burden of the crime. 
 Is thy ceptre good ? No matter how 
 crooked the lines of the circumference 
 be ; pohcy allows it. If thy journey's 
 gnd be heaven, it matters not how full
 
 THE LIAR, 130 
 
 of hell thy journey be ; divinity allows 
 it. Wilt thou condemn the Egyptian 
 midwives for saving the infant Israelites 
 by so merciful a lie ? When martial exe- 
 cution is to be done, wilt thou fear to 
 kill ? When hunger drives thee to the 
 gates of death, wilt thou be afraid to 
 steal ? When civil wars divide a king- 
 dom, will Mercuries decline a lie ? No ; 
 circumstances excuse, as well as" mahe^ 
 the lie. Had Caesar, Scipio, or Alex- 
 ander been regulated by such strict di- 
 vinity, their names had been as silent as 
 their dust. A lie is but a fair put-ofF; 
 the sanctuary of a secret ; the riddle of a 
 lover ; the stratagem of a soldier; the po- 
 licy of a statesman ; and a salve for 
 many desperate sores. 
 
 But hark, my soul! there's somcr 
 thing rounds mine ear, and calls my 
 language to a recantation. The Lqr4 
 }iath spoken it :
 
 140^ THE LIAR. 
 
 Thou shalt not raise a false report. 
 Exod. XX. 
 
 Levit. xix. ii. 
 Ye shall not deal falsely, neither lie one 
 to another, 
 
 Prov. xii. 22. 
 laying lips are abomination to the Lord; 
 hut they that deal truly are his de~ 
 light. 
 
 Prov. xix. 5. 
 Ife that speaketh lies shall not escape. 
 
 Ephes. iv. 25. 
 Put away lyi?ig, and every one speak 
 tnith with his neighbour, for we are 
 members one of another. 
 Revel, xxi. 8. 
 Liars shall have their pai^t in the lake 
 which burneth with fire and brimstone. 
 Revel, xxi. 27. 
 There shall in no wise enter into the new 
 Jerusalem any thing that worketh 
 abomination, or that maketh a lie.
 
 THE LIAR. 141 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 What a child, O my soul, hath thy 
 false bosom harboured ! And what re- 
 ward can thy indulgence expect from 
 such a father ? What blessing canst thou 
 hope from heaven, that pieadest for the 
 son of the devil, and crucifiest the Soa 
 of God ? God is the Father of truth. 
 To secure thy- estate, thou deniest the 
 truth by framing of a lie : to save thy 
 brother's life, thou opposest the truth ia 
 justifying a lie. Now tell me, O my 
 soul, art thou worthy the name of a 
 Christian, that deniest and opposest the 
 nature of Christ? Art thou worthy of 
 Christ, that preferrest thy estate, or thy 
 brother's life, before him r Oh, my un- 
 righteous soul ! canst thou hold thy 
 brother worthy of death for giving thee 
 the lie, and thyself guiltless that makest 
 a lie ? Ay, but in some cases truth de-
 
 142 ' '' THE LIAR. 
 
 stroys thy life ; a lie preserves it ! My 
 soul, was God thy Creator ? then make 
 not the devil thy preserver. Wilt thou 
 despair to trust him v^ith thy life that 
 gave it, and make him thy protectoi* 
 that seeks to destroy it ? Reform thee 
 and repent thee, O my soul ; hold not 
 thy life on such conditions ; but trust 
 thee to the hands that made thee. 
 
 His Pnayer. 
 
 O God, that art the God of truth, 
 whose word is truth, that hatest lying 
 lips, and abominatest the deceitful 
 tongue ; that banishest thy presence all 
 such as lov or make a lie, and lovest 
 truth, and reqiiirest uprightness in the 
 inward parts 1> the most wretched of 
 the sons of men, and most unworthy to 
 be called thy son, make bold to cast my 
 sinful eyes to heaven. Lord, I have 
 sinned against Heaven and against truth.
 
 TfiE LIAR. '^ 14'3 
 
 ^nd have turned thy grace into a lie ; 
 I have renounced the ways of righteous- 
 ness, and have harboured much iniquity 
 within me, which hath turned thy wrath 
 against me. I have transgressed against 
 the checks of my own conscience, and 
 have vaunted of my transgression. Which 
 way soever I turn mine eye, I see no ob- 
 ject but shame and confusion. Lord, 
 when I look upon myself, I find nothing 
 there but fuel for thy wrath, and matter 
 for thine indignation, and my condemna- 
 tion. And when I cast mine eyes to 
 heaven, I there behold an angry God, 
 and a severe Revenger : but. Lord, at 
 thy right hand I see a Saviour, and a 
 sweet Redeemer. I see thy wounded 
 Son clothed m my flesh, and bearing 
 mine infirmities, and interceding for my 
 numerous transgressions ; for which my 
 soul doth magnify thee, O God, and my 
 spirit rejoiceth in him, my Saviour. O 
 Lord, when thou look^t upon the vast
 
 144 THE LIAR. 
 
 score of my offences, turn thine eyes 
 upon the infinite merits of his satisfac- 
 tion. Oh, when thy justice calls to mind 
 my sins, let not thy mercy forget his 
 sufferings. \Vash me, oh wash me in 
 his blood, and thou shalt see me clothed 
 in his righteousness. Let him that is all 
 in all to me, be all in all for me. Make 
 him to me sanctification, justification^ 
 and redemption. Inspire my heart with 
 the spirit of thy truth, and preserve me 
 from the deceitfulness of a double tongue. 
 Give me an inward confidence to rely 
 upon- thy fatherly providence, that nei- 
 ther fear may deter me, nor any advan- 
 tage may turn me from the w^ays of thy 
 truth. Let not thespeciousgoodnessof the 
 end encourage me to the unlawfulness of 
 the means ; but let thy word be the war- 
 rant to all my actions. Guide my foot- 
 steps, that I may walk uprightly; and 
 quicken my conscience, that it may re- 
 prove my failings. Cause me to feel
 
 THE REVENGEFUL MAIT. 145 
 
 the burden of this my habitual sin, 
 that, coming to thee by a true and se- 
 rious repentance, my sins may obtain a 
 full and a gracious forgiveness; Give me 
 a heart to make a covenant with my 
 lips, that both my heart and tongue, 
 being sanctified by thy Spirit, may be 
 both united in truth by thy mercy, and 
 magnify thy name for ever and for ever, 
 
 ' THE Revengeful man. 
 
 His Rage. 
 
 Oh, what a julap to my scorching soul 
 is the delicious blood of my offender ! 
 and how it cools the burning fever of my 
 boiling veins ! It is the quintessence of 
 pleasures) the height of satisfaction, and 
 the very marrow of all dehght, to bathe 
 
 L
 
 140 THE REVENGEFUL MAX. 
 
 ^nd paddle in the blood of such, whose 
 bold affronts have turned my wounded 
 patience into fury ! How full of sweet- 
 ness was Ms death *, who dying was re- 
 venged upon three thousand enemies I 
 -How sweetly did the younger brother's 
 blood allay the soul- consuming flames 
 of the elder J, who took more pleasure 
 in his last breath than Heaven did in his 
 first sacrifice ! Yet had not Heaven con- 
 demned his action, nature had found an 
 advocate for his passion. What sturdy 
 spirit hath the power to rule his suffer- 
 ing thoughts, or curb the headstrong 
 fury of his irascible affections ? Or who 
 but fools (that cannot taste an injury) 
 can moderate their high-bred spirits, 
 and stop their passion in her full career ? 
 Let heavy cynics, they, whose leaden 
 souls are taught by stupid reason to 
 stand bent at every wrong, that can di- 
 gest an injury more easily than a com- 
 
 * Sampson. % Cain,
 
 THE REVENGEFUL MAN. 147 
 
 pliment, that can protest against the 
 laws of nature, and cry all natural af- 
 fection down, let them be handirons for 
 the injurious world to work a heat upon; 
 let them find shoulders to receive the 
 painful stripes of peevish mortals, and 
 to bear the wrongs of daring insolence ; 
 let them be drawn like calves prepared 
 for slaughter, and bow their servile 
 necks to sharp destruction ; let them 
 submit their slavish bosoms to be trod 
 and trampled under foot for every plea- 
 sure. My eagle spirit flies a higher 
 pitch and, like ambitious Phaeton, 
 climbs into the fiery chariot ; and drawn 
 with fury, scorn, revenge, and honour, 
 rambles through all the spheres, and 
 brings with it confusion and combustion. 
 My reeking sword shall vindicate my 
 reputation, and rectify the injuries of 
 my honourable name, and quench itself 
 in plenteous streams of blood. Come, 
 tell not me of charity, conscience, or 
 transgression ; my charity reflects upon
 
 14S iPHE REVENGEf'UL MAIS'* 
 
 myself, begins at home, and, guided by 
 the justice of my passion, is bound to 
 labour for an honourable satisfaction ; 
 my conscience is blood-proof, and I can 
 broach a life with my illustrious weapon 
 with as little reluctation as kill a flea 
 that sucks my blood without commis- 
 sion ; and I can drink a health in blood, 
 upon my bended knee, to reputation. 
 
 But hark, my soul ! I hear a languish- 
 ing, a dying voice cry up to heaven for 
 vengeance ; it cries aloud, and thunders 
 in my startling ear. I tremble, and my 
 shivering bones are filled with horror ; 
 it cries against me, and hear what 
 heaven replies : 
 
 Thou shalt not avenge, or bear any 
 grudge against the children of my people ; 
 kut thou shalt love thy neighbour as thy- 
 self': I am the Lord. Levit. xix. 18. 
 
 Deut. xxxii. 35. 
 To me belongeth vengeance and recom- 
 pense.
 
 THE REVENGEFUL MAN". 149 
 
 Ezek. XXV. 12, 13. 
 
 Because that Edom hath dealt against 
 the house of Judah, by taking veU' 
 geance, and hath greatly offended, 
 and revenged himself upon them ; 
 
 Therefore thus saith the Lord God; I 
 will also stretch out mine hand upon 
 Edom, and ivill cut off man and beast 
 from it. 
 
 Matth. V. 39. 
 
 Resist not evil ; but whosoever shall smite 
 thee on the right cheeh, turn to him 
 the other also. 
 
 Matth. xxvi. 52. 
 
 All that take up the sword shall perish by 
 the sivord. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Revenge is an act of the irascible 
 
 affections, deliberated with malice, and 
 
 executed without mercy. How often, 
 
 O my soul, hast thou cursed thyself in 
 
 L 3
 
 150 THE REVENGEFUL MAN. 
 
 the perfectest of prayers ? Hovr often 
 hast thou turned the spiritual body of 
 thy Saviour into thy damnation ? Can 
 the sun rise to thy comfort, that hath 
 so often set in thy v^rath ? So long as 
 thy wrath is kindled against thy brother, 
 so long is the wrath of God burning 
 against thee ! Oh, w^ouldst thou offer 
 a pleasing sacrifice to Heaven, go first 
 and be reconciled to thy brother ! Ay, 
 but who shall right thy honour then ? 
 Is thy honour wronged ? Forgive, and 
 it is vindicated. Ay, but this kind of 
 heart-swelling can brook no poultice 
 but revenge ! Take heed, my soul ; the 
 remedy is w^orse than the disease. If 
 thy intricate distemper transcend thy 
 power, make choice of a Physician that 
 can purge that humour which foments 
 thy malady; rely upon him; submit 
 thy will to his directions ; he hath a 
 tender heart, a skilful hand, a watchful
 
 THE REVENGEfUL MAN. 15.1 
 
 
 eye ; making thy welfiire the pric^bf 
 all thy pains, expecting no reward,^ho 
 fee, but praises and thanksgivings. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 O God, that art the God of peace, and 
 the lover of unity and concord; that 
 dost command all those that seek for- 
 giveness, to forgive; that hatest the 
 fro ward heart, but she west mercy to 
 the meek in spirit : with what face can 
 I appear before thy mercy- seat, or with 
 w^hat countenance can I lift up these 
 hands, thus stained with my brother's 
 blood? How can my lips, that daily 
 bjeathe revenge against my brother, 
 presume to own thee as my father, or 
 expect from thee thy blessing as thy 
 child P If thou forgive my trespasses, 
 O God, as I forgive my trespassers, in 
 what a miserable estate am I that in 
 my very prayers condemn myself, and 
 L 4
 
 152 THE REVENGEFUL MAN. 
 
 do not only limit thy compassion by 
 my un charitableness, but draw thy 
 judgments on my head for my rebel- 
 lion ! That heart, O God, which thou 
 requirest as a holy present, has become a 
 spring of malice ; these hands which I 
 advance, are ready instruments of 
 base revenge. My thoughts, that should 
 be sanctified, are full of blood ; and how 
 to compass evil againsjt my brother, is 
 my continual meditation. The course 
 of all my life is wilful disobedience, and 
 my whole pleasure. Lord, is, to displease 
 thee. My conscience hath accused me, 
 and the voice of blood hath cried against 
 me ; but. Lord, the blood of Jesus cries 
 louder than the blood of Abel, and thy 
 mercy is far more infinite than my sin. 
 The blood that was shed by me cries 
 for vengeance ; but the blood thai was 
 $hedybr me sues for mercy. Lord, hear 
 the language of this blood, and by the 
 merits of this voice be reconciled unto.
 
 THE REVENGEFUL MAN. 153 
 
 me. That time, which cannot be re- 
 called, oh ! give me power to redeem, 
 and in the mean time a settled resolution 
 to reform. Suppress the violence of 
 my headstrong passion, and establish a 
 meek spirit within me. Let the sight of 
 my own vileness take from me the sense 
 of all disgrace, and }et the crown of my 
 reputation be thy honour ; possess my 
 heart with a desire of unity and con- 
 cord, and give me patience to endure 
 what my impenitence hath deserved ; 
 breathe into my soul the spirit of love, 
 and direct my affections to their right 
 object ; turn all my anger against that 
 sin that hath provoked thee, and give 
 me holy revenge, that I may exercise 
 it against myself; grant that I may 
 love thee for thyself, myself in thee, 
 and my neighbour as myself. Assist 
 me, O God, that I may subdue all 
 evil in myself, and suffer patiently all 
 evil as a punishment from thee; give
 
 154 THE SECURE MAN. 
 
 me a merciful heart, O God ; make it 
 slow to wrath, and ready to forgive; 
 preserve me from the act of evil, that 
 I may be delivered from the fear of 
 evil ; that, living here in charity with 
 men, I may receive the sentence of 
 " Come ye blessed of my Father, ^c.'* 
 in the kingdom of glory. 
 
 THE SECURE MAN. 
 
 His Triumph. 
 
 So now, my soul, thy happiness is en- 
 tailed, and thy illustrious name shall 
 live in thy succeeding generations ; thy 
 dwelling is established in the fat of all 
 the land ; thou hast what mortal heart 
 can wish, and wantest nothing but im- 
 mortality. The best of all the land is
 
 THE SECURE MAN. 155 
 
 thine, and thou art planted in the best of 
 lands ; a land whose constitutions make 
 the best of government, which govern- 
 ment is strengthened with the best of 
 laws, which laws are executed by the 
 best of princes ; whose prince, whose 
 laws, whose government, whose land, 
 makes us the happiest of all subjects, 
 makes us the happiest of all people : 
 a land of strength, of plenty, and a 
 land of peace; where every soul may 
 sit beneath his vine, unfrighted at the 
 horrid language of the hoarse trumpet, 
 unstartled at the warlike summons of 
 the roaring cannon ; a land, whose 
 beauty has surprised the ambitious 
 hearts of foreign princes, and taught 
 them by their martial oratory to make 
 their vain attempts ; a land, whose 
 strength reads vanity in the deceived 
 hopes of conquerors, and crowns their 
 enterprises with a shameful overthrow; 
 a land, whose native plenty makes her
 
 256 THE SECURE MAN. 
 
 the world's exchange; supplying others, 
 and able to subsist without supply from 
 foreign kingdoms ; in itself happy, and 
 abroad honourable ; a land, that hath 
 no vanity, but what by* accident pro- 
 ceeds and issues from the sweetest of 
 all blessings, peace and plenty; that 
 hath no misery, but what is propagated 
 from that blindness which cannot see 
 her own felicity ; a land, that flows with 
 milk and honey, and in brief, wants 
 nothing to deserve the title of a Paradise. 
 The curb of Spain, the pride of Ger- 
 many, the aid of Belgia, the scourge of 
 France, the empress of the world, and 
 queen of nations ; she is begirt with 
 walls, whose builder was the hand 
 of Heaven whereon there daily rides a 
 royal navy, whose unconquerable power 
 proclaims her Prince invincible, and 
 whispers sad despair into the fainting 
 hearts of foreign Majesty : she is com- 
 pact within herself; in unity, not apt to 
 3
 
 THE SECURE MATT. 157 
 
 civil discords or intestine broils; the 
 envy of all nations, the ambition of all 
 princes, the terror of all enemies, the 
 security of all neighbouring states. Let 
 timorous pulpits threaten ruin, let pro- 
 phesying churchmen doat till I believe. 
 How often and how long have these 
 loud sons of thunder false prophesied 
 her desolation ? and yet she stands the 
 glory of the world ! Can pride demohsh 
 the towers that defend her ? Can drunk- 
 enness dry up the sea that walls her ? 
 Can flames of lust dissolve the ordnance 
 that protects her ? 
 
 Be well advised, my soul ; there is a 
 voice from heaven roars louder than 
 that ordnance, which saith, 
 
 Thus saith the Lord, The ivholc land 
 shall he desolate. Jer. iv. 27. 
 
 Isaiah, xiv. 7. 
 'The whole earth is at rest, and at qn'ict ; 
 
 they break forth into singing:
 
 158 THE SECURE MAN. 
 
 Yea, the fir-trees 7'cjoice at ihee, and 
 the cedars of Lebafion sing, &c. 
 
 Yet shalt thou be brought down to hell, 
 to the sides of the pit. 
 Jer. V. 12. 
 
 They have belied the Lord, and said, 
 If is not he, neither shall evil come 
 upon us, neither shall ive see sword 
 or famine. 
 
 Luke, xvii. 20. 
 
 They did eat and drink, and they mar- 
 ried ivives and were given in marriage, 
 until the flood came and destroyed 
 them all. 
 
 1 Cor. X. 12. 
 
 JLet him that standeth, tahe heed lest 
 he fall. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Security is an improvident careless- 
 ness, casting out all fear of approaching 
 danger ; it is like a great calm at sea.
 
 THE SECURE MAN. 15Q 
 
 that foreruns a storm. How is this 
 verified, O my sad soul, in this our 
 bleeding nation ! Wert thou not, but 
 now, for many years even nestled in 
 the bosom of habitual peace ? Didst 
 thou foresee this danger? Or couldst 
 thou have contrived a way to be thus 
 miserable ? Didst thou not laugh inva- 
 sion to scorn ? or didst thou not less 
 fear a civil war ? Was not the title of 
 the crown unquestionable ? and was 
 not our mixed government unapt to fall 
 into diseases ? Did we want good laws? 
 or did our laws want execution ? Did 
 not our prophets give lawful warning ? 
 or were we moved at the sound of 
 judgments ? How hast thou lived, O 
 my uncareful soul, to see these pro- 
 phecies fulfilled, and to behold the vials 
 of thy angry God poured forth ? Since 
 mercies, O my soul, could not allure 
 thee, yet let these judgments now at 
 length enforce thee to a true repentance. 
 4
 
 \60 THfi SECURE MAITi 
 
 Quench the firebrand which thou hast 
 kindled ; turn thy mirth to a right 
 - mourning, and thy feasts of joy to hu* 
 miliation. 
 
 His Trayer, 
 
 O God, by whom kings reign and 
 kingdoms flourish, that settest up where 
 none can batter down, and pullest down 
 where none can countermand ; I, a most 
 humble suitor at the Throne of Grace, 
 acknowledge myself unworthy of the 
 least of all thy mercies, nay, w'orthy 
 of the greatest of all thy judgments. 
 I have sinned against thee, the Author 
 of my being, I have sinned against my 
 conscience which thou hast made my 
 accuser; I have sinned against the peace 
 of this kingdom, whereof thou hast 
 made me a member. If all should do, 
 O God, as I have done, Sodom would 
 appear as righteous, and Gomorrah
 
 THE SECURE MAN. 1^1 
 
 would be a precedent to thy wrath upon 
 this sinful nation. But, Lord, thy mercy 
 is inscrutable, or else my misery were 
 unspeakable : for that mercy sake be 
 gracious to me, in the free pardoning 
 of all my offences ; blot them out of 
 thy remembrance for his sake in whom 
 thou art well pleased ; make my head a 
 fountain of tears to quench that brand 
 my sins have kindled towards the de- 
 struction of this flourishing kingdom. 
 Bless this kingdom, O God ; establish 
 it in piety, honour, peace, and plenty ; 
 forgive all her crying sins, and remove 
 thy judgments far from her ; bless her 
 governor, thy servant, our dread sove- 
 reign ; endue his soul with all religious, 
 civil, and princely virtues ; preserve his 
 royal person in health, safety, and pro- 
 sperity; prolong his days in honour, 
 peace, or victory, and crown his death 
 with everlasting glory. Bless him in 
 his roval consort, unite their hearts in 
 M
 
 l62 THE SECURE MAN. 
 
 love and true religion ; bless him in his 
 princely issue ; season their youth with 
 the fear of thy name. Direct thy church 
 in doctrine and in discipline, and let her 
 enemies be converted or confounded ; 
 purge her of all superstition and heresy, 
 and root out from her whatsoever thy 
 hand hath not planted. Bless the no- 
 bility of this land, endue their hearts 
 with truth, loyalty, and true policy. 
 Bless the tribe of Levi with piety, learn- 
 ing, and humility. Bless the magistrates 
 of this kingdom, give them religious 
 and upright hearts, hating covetousness. 
 Bless the gentry with sincerity, charity, 
 and a good conscience. Bless the com- 
 monalty with loyal hearts, painful hands, 
 and plentiful increase. Bless the two 
 great seminaries of this kingdom, make 
 them fruitful and faithful nurseries both 
 to the church and the commonwealth. 
 Bless all thy saints every where, espe- 
 cially those that have stood in the - gap
 
 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN. l63 
 
 t)etwixt thiskingdom and thy judgments; 
 that, being all members of that body 
 whereof thou, Christ, art head, we may- 
 all join in humiliation for our sins, and in 
 the propagation of thy honour here ; and 
 be made partakers of thy gloFy in the 
 kingdom of glory. 
 
 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN. 
 
 His Felicities. 
 
 Tell haivling hates of bugbears to 
 fright them into quietness, or terrify 
 youth with old wives' fables, to keep 
 their wild affections in awe : such toys 
 may work upon their timorous aj)pre- 
 hensions when wholesome precepts fail, 
 and find no audience in their youthful 
 cars. Tell not me of hell, devils, or of 
 M 2
 
 l64 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN. 
 
 damned souls to enforce me from those 
 pleasures which thej nickname siii. 
 What tell ye me of law ? my soul is 
 sensible of evangelical precepts with- 
 out the needless and uncorrected thun- 
 der of the kiUing letter, or the terrible 
 paraphrase of roaring Boanarges, the 
 tediousness of whose language still de^ 
 termines in damnation ; wherein I ap- 
 prehend God far more merciful than his 
 ministers. 'T is true I have not led my 
 life according to the pharisaical square 
 of their opinions, neither have I found 
 judgments according to their prophecies; 
 whereby I must conclude that God is 
 wonderfully merciful, or the^ wonder-; 
 fully ?nistake?z. How often have they 
 thundered torment against my voluptu- 
 ous life, and yet I feel no pain ; how bit^ 
 terly have they threatened shame against 
 the vaunts of my vain-glory, yet find I 
 lionour ; how fiercely have they preached 
 destruction against my cruelty, and yet 
 J live ; what plagues against my swear^
 
 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN. l05 
 
 ing, yet not infected ; what diseases 
 against my drunkenness, and yet sound; 
 what danger against procrastination, yet 
 how often hath God been found upon 
 the death-bed ? what damnation to hy- 
 pocrites, yet who more safe ? what 
 stripes to the ignorant, yet who more 
 scot-free ? what poverty to the slothful^ 
 yet themselves prosper; what falls to 
 the proud, yet stand thcj surest ; what 
 curses to the covetous, yet who richer ? 
 what judgments to the lascivious, yet 
 who more pleasure ? what vengeance to 
 the profane, the censorious, the re- 
 vengeful; yet none live more unsconrged: 
 who deeper branded than the lyar ? yet 
 who more favoured ? who more threat- 
 ened than the presumptuous? yet who 
 less punished ? Thus are we fooled and 
 kept in awe with the strict fancies of 
 those pulpit-men, whose opinions have 
 no ground but what they gain from po- 
 pularity : thus are w^e frightened from 
 M 3
 
 l66 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAIf, 
 
 the liberty of nature by the politic chi- 
 meras of religion ; whereby we are ne- 
 cessitated to the observing of those laws 
 whereof we find a greater necessity of 
 breaking. 
 
 But stay, my soul ; there is a voice 
 that darts into my troubled thoughts, 
 which saith : 
 
 If thou wilt not harlten unto the voice 
 of the Lord thy God to observe and do 
 all his commandments and his statutes 
 which I command thee this day, all 
 these curses shall come upon thee and 
 overtake. thee, Deut. xxviii. 15. 
 
 Deut. xxix. 
 Because thou hast not kept my latvs, all 
 
 the curses in this book shall overtake 
 
 thee, till thou be destroyed. 
 Deut. xxix. 27, 
 And the anger of the Lord was kindled 
 
 against the land, to bring upon it all 
 
 the curses that are written in this 
 
 book.
 
 ffi]^ PkESUMfTtrotTS MAN. I67 
 
 2 Chron. xxxiv. 24. 
 *Fhm saith the Lord, Behold I will 
 bring evil upon this place, and upon 
 the inhabitants thereof, even all the 
 - curses that are written in this book. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Presumption is a sin, whereby we 
 depend upon God's mercies without 
 an J warrant from God's word ; it is as 
 great a sin, O my soul, to hope for 
 God's mercy without repentance, as to 
 distrust God's mercy upon repentance : 
 in the first thou wrongest his justice; 
 in the last, his mercy. O my pre- 
 sumptuous soul, let not thy prosperity in 
 sinning encourage thee to sin, lest, 
 climbing without warrant into his mercy, 
 thou fall without mercy into his judg- 
 ment. Be not deceived ; a long peace 
 makes a bloody war, and the abuse of 
 M 4
 
 ids THE PRESUM'PTtroUS MAN. 
 
 continued mercies makes a sharp judg- 
 ment. Patience, when slighted, turns 
 to fury, but ill-requited, starts to 
 vengeance. Think not that thy un- 
 punished sin is hidden from the eye of 
 Heaven, or " that God's judgments will 
 delay for ever : the stalled ox that 
 wallows in his plenty, and waxes wanton 
 with ease, is not far from slaughter. 
 The ephod, O my desperate soul, is 
 long a-filling, but once being full, the 
 leaden cover must go on, and then it 
 hurries on the wings of the wind ; ad- 
 vise thee then, and whilst the lamp of 
 thy prosperity lasts, provide thee for 
 the evil day, which being come, re- 
 pentance will be out of date, and all 
 thy prayers will find no ear. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 Gracious God, whose mercy is un- 
 searchable, and whose goodness is un-
 
 THE PRESUxMPTtroiTS MAJT. l60 
 
 speakable ; I, the unthankful object of 
 thy continued favours, and therefore 
 the miserable subject of thy continual 
 wrath, humbly present my sdf-made 
 misery before thy sacred Majesty. Lord, 
 when I look upon the horridness of my 
 sin, shame strikes me dumb ;. but when 
 1 turn mine eye upon the infiniteness of 
 thy mercy, I am emboldened to pour 
 forth my soul before thee ; as in the 
 one, finding matter of confusion, so in 
 the other, arguments for compassion. 
 Lord, I have sinned grievously, but my 
 Saviour hath satisfied abundantly ; I 
 have trespassed continually, but he hath 
 suffered once for all ; thou hast num- 
 bered my transgressions by the hairs of 
 my head, but his mercies are innume- 
 rable like the stars of the sky ; my sins 
 in greatness are like the mountains of the 
 earth, but his mercy is greater than the 
 heavens. Oh, if his mercy were not 
 greater than my sins, my sins were im- 
 5
 
 I 70 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN'. 
 
 pardonable ; for his, therefore,, and thy 
 mercy *s sake, cover my sins, and pardon 
 my transgressions ; make my head a 
 fountain of tears, and accept my con- 
 trition, O thou well-spring of all mercy I 
 Strengthen my resolution, that for the 
 time to come I may detest all sin ; 
 increase a holy anger in me, that I may 
 revenge myself upon myself, for dis- 
 pleasing so gracious a Father ; fill my 
 heart with a fear of thy judgments, and 
 sweeten my thoughts with the medi- 
 tation of thy mercies. Go forwards, 
 O my God, and perfect thy own work 
 in me, and take the glory of thy own 
 free goodness ; furnish my mouth with 
 the praises of thy name, and replenish 
 my tongue with continual thanksgiving. 
 Thou hast promissed pardon to those 
 that repent; behold, I repent; Lord, 
 quicken my repentance. Thou mightest 
 have made me a terrible example of thy 
 justice, and struck me into hell in the 
 
 3
 
 THE PRESUMPTUOUS MAN. I7I 
 
 height of my presumption ; but thou 
 hast made me capable of thy mercies, 
 and an object of thy commiseration ; for 
 thou art a gracious God, of long suffer- 
 ing, and slow to anger; thy name is 
 wonderful, and thy mercies incompre- 
 hensible ; thou art only worthy to be 
 praised ; let all the people praise thee, 
 O God ; oh, let all the people praise 
 thee ; let angels and archangels praise 
 thee ; let the congregations of saints 
 praise thee ; let thy works praise thee ; 
 let every thing that breathes praise thee 
 for ever, and for ever. Amen. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST PART.
 
 JUDGMENT AND MERCY, 
 
 &c. 
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 COURTEOUS READER, 
 
 NOW, ivhen the theme of every 
 mails discourse is his sad losses in these 
 times, your author bids me tell- you, that 
 in these he had not the least share ; for 
 from him his very religion ivas stolen 
 away : nay, yet more cruel, even then 
 when he had the most need of it in 
 the time of his sickness / mean this 
 small Essay (the epitome of his ejacu- 
 latory soul) . was then tahen from him 
 hy a sly hand, and presently printed 
 withqut his hiowledge ; so that, as in
 
 174 
 
 Uhe cases it always happenSy it came 
 forth much unsuitable to the author s 
 mind, both in the form and matter of 
 it. I, therefore, though I cannot restore 
 to him his lost treasure, being noiu dead, 
 yet in this edition have restored his 
 treasure to itself again, pittting it out 
 so that it now answers his own direc- 
 tions, and refoj^ms many mistakes of 
 the former plagiary : so that now thou 
 mayest fully find him whom his sad 
 wiifow hath lost. 
 
 URSULA qUARLES.
 
 175 
 
 THE WEARY MAN. 
 
 His Burden, - 
 
 -God, who in himself is the fulness and 
 perfection of all glory, who needed no 
 tongue to praise it, no pen to express it, 
 no work to magnify it, created a world 
 for his own pleasure, furnished it of his 
 own goodness, made man out of his 
 own mere motion, appointed him his 
 lieutenant here upon earth, and as a 
 witness and an instrument of his glory, 
 the sole end of his creation. But man 
 grew proud, transgressed against his 
 first commandment, and fell; and by his 
 fall destroyed his then unborn posterity. 
 Sin entered the world, and death by 
 sin; and I, poor miserable creature, born 
 in sin, have turned his glory to dis- 
 honour, my due obedience to rebellion, 
 ^nd my happiness to eternal death. How
 
 1/6 THE WEART MAN. 
 
 intolerable is the burden of this sin ! how 
 insufferable is the weight of m j offences ! 
 If I but think of Heaven, it clogs my 
 contemplations ; if I but pray to Hisaven, 
 it presses down my devotion. I have 
 lost the favour of my God, I have frus- 
 trated the end of my creation, I have 
 broke the peace of my conscience, I 
 have clipped the wings of my faith, I 
 have dashed the comfort of my hopes ; 
 good angels have forsaken me, my con- 
 science hath accused me, God's Prophets 
 have condemned me, and Hell gapes for 
 me : what shall 1 do ? or whither shall 
 I%? Shall I flee to Angels? alas! I 
 have turned them away displeased ; they 
 will not hear me, or if they would, they 
 cannot help me. Shall I fly to my own 
 conscience ? alas ! that will fly on me. 
 Shall I trust to my own merits ? alas! 
 they are false lights, and will light me 
 to my own ruin ; or shall I take the 
 wings of the morning, and fly to the 
 utmost parts of the earth ? alas ! my
 
 THE WEARY MAN. 177 
 
 ijins will follow me, my sins will haunt 
 toe wheresoever I go. Poor miserable 
 man that I am, who shall deliver me 
 from this burden ? Poor miserable man 
 that i am> v^ho shall release me from 
 this bondage ? Is there no comfort for 
 a poor distressed soul ? Is there no ease 
 for a poor disconsolate sinner ? Is there 
 no balsam for a wounded heart ? no 
 tefuge for a guilty penitent ? 
 
 O MY soul, -why art tliou so sad ? 
 and why is thy spirit so disquieted within 
 thee.^ put thy trust in God, who hath said: 
 
 Come unto me all you that are heavy 
 ladeUi and I ivill give you rest, Matth. 
 Xi. 28. 
 
 Matth. xi. 29. 
 Tahe my yohe upon you, and learn of 
 
 me, for I am meehand lowly in heart, 
 
 and ye shall have rest unto your 
 
 souls.
 
 178 Tilt WEARY MAN. 
 
 Jer. vi. 16. 
 
 Thus saith the Lord, Stand yc in the 
 
 old ways, and seek and ash for the old 
 
 paths, luhere is the good way, and 
 
 tvalk therein ; and ye shall find rest 
 
 for your souls, 
 
 Isaiah^ li. 11. 
 
 The redeemed of the Lord shall return, 
 and come luith singing unto Sion, and 
 everlasting joy shall he upon tlieir 
 heads ; they shall obtain gladness and 
 joy ; and sorroiv and mourning shall 
 fly away. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 True, my soul, if thou shouldst 
 only cast an eye upon the letter of the 
 law, that letter would soon cast thee 
 and condemn thee : or if thy only ob- 
 ject were the base corruptions of thy 
 sinful heart, there were sufficient cause 
 to justify that condemnation: or hadst 
 thou nothing else to trust to but thine
 
 THE WEARY MA>\ 1 70 
 
 own abilities, thy case were too misera- 
 ble for expression : or shouldst thou 
 seriously consider that glorious Majesty 
 thou hast offended, there were no hopes 
 for consolation. But, O my soul, there 
 is a gospel to mitigate the rigour of that 
 letter ; there is a chancery to moderate 
 the severity of that law ; there is a 
 Saviour to mediate betwixt that God and 
 thy offences. Art thou in bondage, 
 O my soul ? here is freedom ; art thou 
 dejected ? here is comfort ; art thou 
 pursued ? here is refuge ; art thou over- 
 burdened ? here is rest ; art thou con- 
 demned ? here is a pardon. Appeal 
 therefore from the throne of justice to 
 the seat of mercy ; from the justice of 
 Jehovah to the mercy of thy Jesus ; 
 deny thyself, and he will own thee ; 
 empty thyself, and he will fill thee. Let 
 not thy sins affright thee, he hath satis- 
 fied ; let not hell dismay thee, he hath 
 suffered ; let not the first death trouble 
 
 N 2
 
 iSO THE WEARY MA:5fi 
 
 thee, he hath sweetened it ; let not the 
 second death terrify thee, he hath con- 
 quered it ; fear not to come to him, for 
 he hath called thee ; fear not to pray to 
 him, for he will hear thee* 
 
 His Prayer* 
 
 O God, whose perfect glory needed 
 not the help of man, yet madest him 
 for thy glory, wherein consisted his 
 eternal happiness I, a poor son of 
 Adam, fallen by his sin, and wallowing 
 in my own corruptions, lie prostrate 
 here before the footstool of thy mercy- 
 seat, acknowledging my grievous sins, 
 and humbly begging pardon for my 
 manifold transgressions. How infinite 
 is thy mercy, O God, that hast not 
 spared thy only Son, but made his 
 precious blood a ransom to redeem me 
 from the jaws of death ! I have made 
 myself a great delinquent, and thou 
 feast appointed him my gracious advo-
 
 THE WEARY MAN^ iSl 
 
 cate ; I have made myself a sinner, and 
 he hath given himself to be my saviour. 
 To thee therefore, O my blessed Jesus, 
 whose death is my deliverance, I fly r 
 bcfbre thee, who art more merciful than 
 I am miserable, I fall : thy mercies 
 have invited me, thy merits have em- 
 boldened me to present my groans be- 
 fore thy gracious ears, and to lay my 
 burden upon thy dying shoulders. O 
 Lamb of God, which takest away the 
 ^ins of the world, have mercy upon 
 me : O Lamb of God, that takest away 
 the burden of my sins, have mercy 
 upon me, and grant me thy rest : O 
 thou that tookest my flesh upon thee, 
 grant me thy Spirit ; sanctify my 
 thoughts, be merciful to my sins, be 
 gracious to my prayers ; let the inter- 
 cession of thy merits restore me to the 
 favour of my God ; let the freeness of 
 thy mercy release me from the burden 
 of my conscience ; wean me frora 
 J? 3
 
 182 THE WEARY MAN. 
 
 myself; direct me in thy ways ; be thou 
 my rest, be thou my refuge ; fix thou 
 my wavering faith, recall my wandering 
 hopes; give thy angels charge over me, 
 whom I have so often sent grieved away; 
 establish me with a free spirit, and re- 
 store me teethe joy of thy salvation; let 
 that power that calls me enable me to 
 come, and let my coming be rewarded 
 in thy promise ; let thy word comfort 
 me, let thy truth conduct me, and let 
 thy spirit counsel me; that being re- 
 lieved by the bounty of thy grace, re- 
 leased from the burden of my sins, and 
 redeemed by the virtue of thy blood, I 
 may come to thee with the confidence 
 of a son, and be received of ^hee in the 
 compassion of a father ; and after this 
 life of grace, live with thee in thy 
 kingdom of glory. 
 
 %.
 
 18^ - 
 
 THE SINNER. 
 
 His Sentence. 
 
 Oh, the miserable condition of mankind ! 
 What loads of selfrmade misery are fallen 
 upon the sons of men ! Man, that had 
 once a power not to fall, hath not now 
 the will to stand ; and being fallen by 
 his ambitious will, hath lost the power 
 to rise. He was created good, but, not 
 content with such a goodness, grew 
 covetous to increase it by the knowledge 
 of that which (being known) deprived 
 him of that goodness. Evil he desire^ 
 to know ; and not knowing the misery 
 , of that knowledge, by that knowledge 
 became miserable. That God, the sweet- 
 ness of whose presence w^as the pern 
 fection of man's felicity, he rebelliously 
 declined ; and being the favourite of
 
 184 THE SINNER. 
 
 Heaven, made himself a firebrand of hell, 
 and I his miserable child made more 
 miserable by my own offences. What 
 mercy can I expect from this just God, 
 whose justice I have sp oft offended ? 
 "W^at judgment may I not suspect from 
 that merciful God, whose mercy I have 
 so oft abused ? Is not the practice of 
 my life, sin ? are not the w^ages of 
 my sin, death ? If one sin destroyed a 
 "world of men, shall not a world of sins 
 destroy one m^an ? I that have not 
 feared to provoke his justice, am now 
 afraid to think him just ; I that have 
 ^slighted his mercy, have now no warrant 
 to hope him merciful. He that made the 
 eye, can he choose but see ? He that 
 sees all things, beholds he not my sin ? 
 Can he behold my sin, >and not punish ? 
 Can he punish, and I not confounded ? 
 What am I, poqr dust and ashes, to stand 
 before so great an enemy ? Did he not 
 create me for his service, and shall not 
 his hand destroy me for my rebelUon I
 
 THE SIXNER. , 185 
 
 What advocate shall plead my cause ? 
 what sanctuary shall secure me ? Shall 
 that blood save me which I have spilt ? 
 Will that Judge quit me whom I have 
 prucified ? Shall I present my prayers to 
 Heaven ? alas ! my very prayers will 
 return like thunder-bolts upon my head. 
 Shall I lay my sins before the eye of 
 Heaven ? ah me ! I dare not, lest they 
 (draw down vengeance into my bosom. 
 
 Be not afraid, my soul, God's mercy 
 far transcends thy misery. Cheer up. 
 Oh, now, my soul, depart in peace, for 
 thine eyes shall see thy salvation. OpcQ 
 thine ears, and hear what the Spirit 
 saith : 
 
 He that helievetli in me shall never 
 (lie, John, xi. 16. 
 
 John, iii. lO, 
 God so. loved the tvorld, that he gave his 
 
 only begotten Son^ that ivhosoever 
 
 helieveth in him shall not perish, hut 
 
 have everlasting life.
 
 185 THE SINNER. 
 
 John, V, 24. 
 Verily, verily y I say unto you. He that 
 heareth my word, and hclieveth on 
 Him that sejit me, hath eiyerlasting 
 life, and shall not come into condem- 
 nation ; hut is passed from death 
 unto life. 
 
 Acts, xyi. 31. 
 
 Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou shalt 
 
 he saved, and thy household. 
 
 Rom. i. 17. 
 
 For therein is the righteotisness of God 
 
 7^evealed from faith to faith: as it is 
 
 wntten, The just shall live hy faith. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 But is thy misery, O my soul, greater 
 than his mercy } 'Tis true, the practice 
 of thy life is sin, but the practice of 
 his mercy is pardon : the wages of thy 
 sin is (ieath; but the merits of his death
 
 THE SINNER. 187 
 
 is life. Art thou afraid to think the 
 God of vengeance just ? and well thou 
 majest, if thou deny the God of mercy 
 to be merciful. Old Adam hath run thee 
 in debt, and young Adam hath paid the 
 score, and wilt thou not acknowledge 
 it ? O my distrustful soul, darken not 
 the sunshine of Jiis power with the 
 clouds of thy infidelity ; eclipse not the 
 illustrious body of his mercy with the 
 interposition of thy despair. Think not 
 thy great Creator is thine enemy, when 
 thy gracious Redeemer is thy friend. 
 Hast thou sinned against thy creation ? 
 thou art absolved by thy redemption. 
 Art thou penitent for thy rebellion ? thy 
 peace is made by thy Redeemer. But 
 thou hast shed thy Saviour's blood ? 
 take comfort; that very blood which 
 thou hast spilled will save thee. But 
 thou hast crucified the Lord of glory : 
 the Lord of glory whom thou hast cru- 
 cified, hath crucified thy sins. Fear not
 
 188 THE SINKER, 
 
 then, my soul, to fly to such a friend, 
 whose arms are open to embrace thee, 
 whose eyes are open to behold thee, 
 whose lips are open to plead for thee, 
 whose wounds are open to ease thy 
 pains, whose ears lire open to hear thy 
 prayers. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 O God, that madest all things to 
 scn^e man, that man might the more 
 cheerfully serve thee ; that gavest him 
 power to continue in that perfect state 
 thou madest him, and a will to use that 
 power to thy glory and his own comfort^ 
 I, the unhappy son of my unhappy parents, 
 made more unhappy by mine own trans-r 
 gressions, do here in all humility and 
 contrition, acknowledge myself the mir* 
 serable subject of thy utter wrath, Lord, 
 J have lost the power to do what thoij 
 CPpimandest, and am oply left tp suffer
 
 ifiiE stNNEit. I8g 
 
 what thy displeasure shall lay upon me. 
 
 But yet, O God, thy mercy is no less 
 
 infinite than thy justice, and far more 
 
 infinite than my sins, and hast promised 
 
 life to all believers. Give therefore dust 
 
 and ashes leave, O Lord, to claim this 
 
 gracious promise ; and what thou hast 
 
 commanded to be done, O give me 
 
 power to do. Enter not into judgment 
 
 with thy servant, O Lord, for in thy 
 
 sight shall no flesh be justified : look not 
 
 upon thy servant, O God, but through 
 
 the blood of thy Son, and let the merits 
 
 of a Saviour outcry the demerits of a 
 
 sinner. Remember not what I, a sinner, 
 
 have done but call to thy remem.brance 
 
 what he my Saviour hath suffered. Oh ! 
 
 let his bloody sweat anoint my bleeding 
 
 wounds, and accept his death as the full 
 
 wages of my offences. Lord, I am 
 
 sick, I fly to him as my physician ; I am 
 
 a trespasser, I fly to him my advocate ; 
 
 I am ar suitor, I fly to him my mediator; 
 
 5
 
 igO THE SIXNER. 
 
 I am a delinquent, I flj to him my sanc- 
 tuary ; I am a sinner, I fly to him my 
 saviour. Let the shamefulness of his 
 death expiate the sinfulness of my life ; 
 and let the willingness of his obedience 
 satisfy for the wilfulness of my rebellion. 
 Let my sins, that cry louder than the 
 sins of Cain, be washed in his blood, 
 which speaks better things than the 
 blood of Abel. Remember thy promises 
 to those that believe ; Lord, I believe ; 
 Lord, help my unbelief; quicken my 
 soul with faith ; inflame my affections 
 with love, and fill my mouth w4th 
 prayers, that knowing him I may believe 
 in him, and believing in him I may 
 love him, and loving him I may praise 
 him with Hosannas here in the Church 
 militant, and Hallelujahs in the Church 
 triumphant.
 
 '91 
 
 THE POOR MAX. 
 
 His IFant, 
 
 God that created all things for man*s 
 use, created man for his service, who 
 by the accommodation of all the crea- 
 tures might be enabled the better to do 
 service to his Creator: but when the 
 proud disloyalty of man rebelled, the 
 creature that knew not how to serve 
 man on such conditions, returned to his 
 first Creator, to be anew disposed of 
 by him according to his pleasure. How 
 dare I then presume to expect from his 
 hands what 1 have disinherited myself 
 of by my rebellion ? Or how can I, a dog, 
 claim any interest in the children's bread? 
 How dare 1, a sinner, intrude into the 
 portion of the righteous ? And if the 
 righteous only shall inherit the land, in 
 what quarter lies my inheritance ? If
 
 Ig^ Tiik POOR mai^. 
 
 "blessings be the proper dues of sofis^j 
 what is due to me the greatest of all sin- 
 ners? I am no son, and therefore nd 
 heir, that insomuch what I possess I 
 enjoy not by right, but usurpation. 
 What have 1 that I can call my own t 
 or wherein can my title prove a right ? I 
 am wretched, for I am a sinner I am 
 poor, for I want the thing I have ; I am 
 blind, for I cannot see my wants ; 1 am 
 naked, for I cannot hide my shame. I 
 can challenge nothing but my sin, my 
 sorrow, my punishment, my shame; t 
 can see nothing but that I am wretched 
 and poor> and blind and naked ; I can 
 expect nothing but what I first must re- 
 ceive ; I can receive nothing but what 
 must first be given : nothing can be given 
 but by prayer; prayer hath no virtue 
 but by faith, and whatsoever is not of 
 faith is sin. How then shall I supply 
 this emptiness ? by what means shall I 
 relieve my wants ? by what art shall I
 
 THE POOR MAW. ' 103 
 
 clear this blindness ? what clotheS shall 
 hide my nakedness ? If I pray for what 
 I want, I fear I shall not want what I 
 deserve: I am a prodigal, atid have 
 spent my talent ; I have divorced my 
 J)resence from my angry father ; I am 
 not worthy to be called his son, and he 
 too worthy to be called my father. I 
 have forsaken my God, and his blessings 
 have forsaken me ; I, that have banished 
 myself from my father*s bounteous table> 
 am now marshalled among swine. 
 
 Return, return thee, my soul, into 
 thy father*s arms ; confess thy wants, 
 and his mercv will feiieve thee, who 
 saith, 
 
 Whatsoever ye shall ask tny Father 
 in my name, he shall give it unto you, 
 john^ xvi. 23* 
 
 1 John, V. 14> 15* 
 And this is the confidence we have in him; 
 
 if ive ask any thing according to his 
 o
 
 194 ^fiTE POOR MXJf. 
 
 '-^ tvill, he heareth us ; if we Icnoiv he 
 ' heareth us, whatsoever we ashy we 
 
 hnow we have the petitions we desire 
 
 of Mm. 
 
 John, xiv. 13. 
 Whatsoever ye a^h in my name, that will 
 
 I do, that the Father may he glorified 
 
 in the Son ; if ye ask any thing in my 
 
 name, I will do it. 
 
 Matth. vii. 7. 
 ik^, and it shall be giveti you ; seek, 
 
 and you shall find ; knock, and it 
 
 shall be opened to you. 
 ^^ . (. Psal. xxi. 4. 
 ^tte (Askeii life of thee, and thou gavest 
 ^ it him; even length of days, for ever 
 
 and ever. 
 
 
 ^ttis ^Soliloquy. 
 
 Ip thy own righteousness only in- 
 tterest thee in Heaven, or hadst thou no 
 Abetter title to the blessing of earth than 
 6
 
 TUB POOR MAir. igs 
 
 from thyself, how vain were the merits 
 of a Saviour, and how poor were the 
 estate of a sinner? But having no 
 righteousness but in him, thou bast no 
 interest in any blessing but by him. 
 Art thou poor in estate, O my soul ? 
 ifind him, and thou art rich. Art thou 
 wretched ? seek him, and thou hast 
 happiness. Blinded with error? seek 
 him, and thou art enlightened with 
 truth. Naked ? find him, and thou 
 iShalt be clothed with robes. Challenge 
 nothing but thy sin, and thou shalt 
 enjoy all things by thy repentance. Be 
 sensible of thy misery, and thou art 
 capable of his mercy. Hast thou wasted 
 thy portion with the prodigal ? return 
 to thy father, Uke the prodigal. Ac- 
 knowledge thy own tmworthiness, and 
 thy father's indulgence will embrace 
 thee. Let not the sense of thy own 
 ^wretchedness discourage thee, nor the 
 fear of his displeasure dishearten thee : 
 
 o 2
 
 # 
 
 196 THE POOR MAIC. 
 
 Can an earthly mother forget her child ? 
 and canst thou distrust the mercies of a 
 heavenly Father? Go then, my soul, 
 fly into his bosom by contrition, groan 
 thy sorrows in his ear by penitent con- 
 fession ; he that hath called thee will 
 accept thee ; he that hath commanded 
 thee to pray, will hear thy prayer. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 O God, that art the Creator and 
 giver of all good things, by which we 
 are either made the more serviceable to 
 thee, or the more inexcusable in neg- 
 lecting thy service I, a poor off-cast 
 among the sons of Adam, who, like 
 the prodigal, have mis-spent thy precious 
 blessings, do here return from husks 
 and harlots, and the lewd concupiscence 
 of my affections, to thee, my gracious 
 God, to thee, O my offended Father ! 
 I have usurped thy fevours, intruded
 
 THE POOR MAN. 107 
 
 into thy blessings, and, like a dog, de- 
 voured the children's bread. O God, 
 my wants are great ; nay, what I have, 
 I want, in wanting thee, that art all 
 goodness, and all in all : but yet thy 
 gracious promise hath invited me to call 
 on thee in my necessities : be it there- 
 fore, O God, according to thy word; 
 thy word is truth ; thy truth is everlast- 
 ing. Lord, as thou hast made me sen- 
 sible of my wants, so make me capable 
 of thy relief. Remove my wretched- 
 ness by thy mercy ; relieve my poverty 
 by thy all-sufficient grace ; recover my 
 blindness by thy light ; cover my naked- 
 ness with thy robe ; be thou my portion, 
 O God, and let thy laws be mine in e- 
 ritance. Hear the needy when he calls 
 upon thee, and help the poor that hath 
 no helper. Thou art my hope, O God ; 
 thou art my trust even from my mother's 
 womb. Make me sufficient for thy 
 grace, and thy grace shall be sufficient 
 o 3
 
 ig8 THE POOR MAN. 
 
 for me : provoke in my soul a thirst 
 after righteousness, that I may take and 
 drink the cup of thy salvation. Teach 
 'me to ask according to thy pleasure, and 
 grant my requests according to thy pro- 
 mise. Strengthen my faith in all my 
 supplications, and give me patience to 
 expect thy leisure. What I possess, O 
 God, let me enjoy in thee, and thee in 
 it; relieve my necessities according to 
 thy will, and let thy pleasure limit my 
 desires ; in my prosperity let me not 
 forget thee, and in my adversity let me 
 not forsake the^e : v^^ith Jacob's vrealth. 
 Lord, give me Jacob's blessing ; with 
 Lazarus' s want, oh give me Lazarus' s 
 reward : both in want and wealth give 
 me a contented mind ; both in prospe- 
 rity and adversity give me a thankful 
 heart. Lord, hear my prayer for thy 
 mercy sake, for my miseries sake, for 
 thy promise sake, for my Jesus' sake, to 
 ^ whom be glory and praise for ever ancj 
 ever. 
 
 *'3:;
 
 .r.u4 ,} 'l^*n^ say f** 
 
 THE FORGETFUL MAN. , 
 
 His Complaint 
 
 We are God*s husbandry, our hearts 
 are the soil; whereof some is more fruit- 
 ful, some more barren, and both un- 
 profitable. His holy word is the seed, 
 which sometimes falls upon a lean 
 ground, sometimes upon a stony, some- 
 times upon a good ground : the cares of 
 the world are lii^e thorns that spring up 
 and choke it : persecutions, like a sultry 
 summer, scorch it : the lusts of the 
 flesh, like the fowls of the air, which 
 wait upon the plough, and licensed by 
 the prince of the air, devour it, , How 
 many disadvantages, O God, attend 
 upon thy husbandry ! how many losses 
 lessen thy increase! how many accidents 
 inake thy soU unfruitful, and thy harvest 
 
 % O 4
 
 200 THE TOUGETFUL MAIf. 
 
 easy and unprofitable ! To what pur 
 pose do I till my land ? To what ad- 
 vantage do I stir my fallows ? I have 
 lio sooner sowed my wilUng ground, 
 but the seed is stolen away. I bring into 
 the sanctuary a prepared heart ; I hear 
 glad tidings with a cheerful ear, and 
 then repose them in a joyf^d breast ; 
 but when I look into my hopeful maga- 
 zine, behold there is nothing there but 
 emptiness and vanity. The joys of what 
 I gained were swallowed with the grief 
 of what I lost. No sooner had I set 
 my portals open to let in the King of 
 Glory,, but, lo ! the slightness of my en- 
 tertainment turned him out again. I hid 
 my Saviour in the sepulchre of my soul,^ 
 and they have taken away my Lord, 
 and I know not where they have laid 
 him. My beloved withdrew himself, 
 and is gone, and I sought him, but I 
 could not find him. O treacherous me- 
 .^jfsiory, how hast thou betrayed my rest?
 
 THE FORGETFUL MAN. 201 
 
 how hast thou lost the balsam of my 
 soul ! how ^rt thou heedless in preserv- 
 ing what my poor soul was so earnest 
 in pursuing ? How canst tKou choose 
 but feel the stroke of death, having 
 thus lost the word of life ? What shall 
 now comfort thee in thy aliliction ? Oh, 
 what shall strengthen thee in thy temptr 
 ation ? or what shall wind up the plum- 
 mets of thy soul in desperation ? 
 
 Cheer up, my soul ; the pearl which 
 thou hast lost, is hidden in thy field, 
 and time shall bring it forth ; when sharp 
 afflictions shall plough up the fallows of 
 thy heart, this pearl shall then appear 
 and comfort thee. Turn and read what 
 the Spirit saith : 
 
 The holy Spirit shall bring to your 
 remembrance whatsoever I have said 
 y^nto you. John, xiv. 26. 
 
 , John, XV. 2O. 
 JVhen the Comforter shall come, whom 
 
 I will send from the Father, even the
 
 ^2 THE FORGETFUL MAJT. 
 
 Spirit of truth ivMch proeeedeth from 
 the Father, he shall testify of me, 
 
 Matth. X. 19. f 
 
 ^ake no tJiought, how, or ivhat ye shall 
 speah ; for it shall he given you at 
 ^he same hour ivhat ye shall speah 
 1 John, ii. 27, 
 7^ anointing which ye have received tf 
 Mm abides in, you, and ye need not 
 that any man teach you; hat as the 
 same anointing teacheth you of' all 
 , things, and is truths (i?id is no lie, 
 cmd even as if hath (aught you, y^ 
 sliall abide in him^ 
 
 IBs Soliloquy, 
 
 ^ The strongest citv (when force with-. 
 Kt, ad treachery wilhin^ assail it) must 
 vielcl ; and canst thou expect, O raj 
 soul, to be impregnable ? Hast thou 
 the devil and the world w ithout thee, 
 iil^ $0 many regiments of lusts withi^
 
 JMIE FORGETFUL MAIf. 205 
 
 thee, yet thinkest thou to sustain no 
 loss ? Art thou so unexperienced in the 
 Christian war, tp think thy magazine 
 safe upon so strong a siege ? Thou storest 
 thy heart with plenty of the bread of hfe, 
 and canst thou hope to keep it from the 
 ravenous hand of thy own corruptions ? 
 Thou so west thy ground with hberal 
 seed, and thinkest thou that the fowls 
 of the air (being Lucifer's own regi- 
 ment) will not rob thee of a share ? 
 Thou fillest thy treasury with sums of 
 Tvealth, and canst thou hope the troops 
 within thee will not plunder thee ? Vex 
 not thyself, my soul ; what is taken from 
 thee with too strong an arm, shall be 
 no loss to thee ; consent not, but con- 
 tinue loyal, and thy compulsions shall 
 never wrong thee. If thy domestic re- 
 bels sequester thy whole estate, thy loy^ 
 alty shall preserve thee. Cheer thee, 
 then, O my soul ; the Comforter will 
 i^ome, and* then thy faith shall be repaid.
 
 204 THE FORGETFUL MAIT. 
 
 thy wrongs shall be repaired ; till then, 
 thy sufferings shall be remembered, and 
 then thv petitions shall be regarded. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, without whose special bless- 
 ing and success, Paul plants in vain, and 
 Apollos waters to no purpose ; that, with 
 the influence of thy holy Spirit, en richest 
 all those hearts from whom thy patience 
 shall expect increase I, the worst piece 
 of all thy husbandry, dq here acknow-* 
 ledge and confess my own barrenness as 
 most unworthy of thy pains. Lord, 
 thou hast often ploughed my heart with 
 trials and atfiictions, manured it with 
 the presence of thy heavenly grace, and 
 sowed it with thy pure seed ; yet such 
 is the base condition of my unfruitful 
 heart, that either the coldness of the soil 
 starves it, or the cares of the world 
 chol^^e it, or the malice of the devil rob^
 
 rrKE FORGETFUL MA^f. 205 
 
 it, that it cannot bring forth increase 
 Xvorthy of thy pains or expectation. 
 Lord, I am thy husbandry; continue 
 thy careful hand upon me, and supply 
 my weakness with thy Strength, and 
 make me fruitful for thy glory. And 
 thou, O God, that hast given thy word 
 for a lamp unto my feet, and a light 
 unto my paths, so open mine eyes that 
 I may behold the frailty of my flesh ; 
 so clear my sight that I may avoid the 
 vanities of the world, and the snares of 
 Satan. Be thou my screen to preserve 
 this lamp ; be thou my lantern to protect 
 this light, that the corruptions of my 
 flesh may not obscure it, that the vani- 
 ties of the world may not eclipse it, 
 that the suggestions of Satan may not 
 consume it. Unlock mine ears, that I 
 may hear what thou commandest ; lock 
 thou my memory, that I may retain 
 what I hear ; enlarge my heart, that I 
 may practice what I retain ; and open
 
 206 THE FORGETFUL MAJf* 
 
 thou my lips, that I may praise thee irt 
 my practice. Ck)nsider, O God, how i 
 love thy precepts, and quicken me ac- 
 cording to thy loving kindness. Hide 
 thy word in my heart, that my ways 
 may be directed to keep thy statutes. 
 ^Remember thy word to thy servant, 
 upon which thou hast caused me to hope. 
 Behold I am weak, be thou my helper 
 behold I am comfortless, be thou my 
 comforter. Restrain his malice that 
 steals thy word from out thy ground, 
 that when the time cometh thy harvest 
 may be fruitful, and I, thy servant, 
 being found faithful, may enter into my 
 Master's joy, and be received into etei> 
 nal glory. 
 
 Ssc
 
 5(J7 
 
 THE iVIDOW. 
 
 JTier Distress, 
 
 So vain, so momentary are the pleasa^eJi 
 of this world ; so transitory is the hap- 
 fpiness of mankind, that what with thfe 
 expectation that goes before it, and the 
 cares that go with it, and the griefs th^t 
 follow it, we are not more unhappy iti 
 the wanting it, than miserable in the 
 enjoying it. The greatest of all worldly 
 joys are but bubbles full of air, that 
 break with the fulness of their own 
 vanity, and but, at best, like Jonah's 
 gourd, which please us while they last, 
 and vex us in the loss. Past and future 
 happiness are the miseries of the time 
 present; and present happiness is biit 
 the passage to approaching misery; 
 which being transitory, and meeting
 
 208 TJIE WIDOW. 
 
 with a transitory possessor, perish in th^ 
 very using. What was mine yesterday, 
 in the blessedness of a full fruition, to- 
 day hath nothing left of it but a sad re- 
 membrance, it was mine ! The more I 
 call to mind the joys I had, the morel 
 sensible I am of the miseiy I have. My 
 sun is set, my glory is darkened, and 
 not one star appears in the firmament of 
 my little world : he, from whose loins 
 I came, is taken from me ; he, to whose 
 bosom I returned, is taken from me ; 
 my blessing in the one, my comforts in 
 the other, are taken from me; and what 
 is left to me but a poor third part of 
 myself to bewail the loss of the other 
 .two ? I, that was owned by the tender 
 name of a child, am now known by 
 the oif-cast title of an orphan ; I, that 
 was respected by the honourable title of 
 a wife, am now rejected by the despise- 
 able name of a widow ; I, that flourished 
 like a fruitful vine upon the house-top^
 
 SFHE WIDOW. 209 
 
 am now neglected and trodden under 
 foot. He, that like a strong wall sup- 
 ported my tender brianches, is fallen, 
 and left my clusters to the spoil of 
 ravenous swine. The spring-tides of 
 my plenty are spent, and I am gravelled 
 on the low ebbs of want ; the son- 
 nets of my mirth are turned to elegies 
 of mourning ; my glory is put out, and 
 my honour grovels on the dust, I call 
 to my friends, and they neglect me ; I 
 spread forth my hands, and there is 
 none to help me ; my beauty is departed 
 from me, and all my joys are swallowed 
 up. 
 
 But stay, my soul, plunge not too 
 far; shall not he take, that gave? cannot 
 be that took, restore ? The Lord is thy 
 portion, who saith, 
 
 I will be an husband to the widoiv, and 
 a father to the fatherless, Psal. Ixviii. 5.
 
 210 THE WIDOW. 
 
 xod xxii. 22, 23, 24. 
 Ye shall not afflict airy widoiVy or father- 
 
 less child. 
 If thou afflict them in anywise, and they 
 
 cry at all unto me, I will surely hear 
 
 their cry. 
 And my wrath shall tvax hot, and I will 
 
 kill you with the sivord, and your 
 
 wives shall he widoivs, and your 
 
 children fatherless, 
 
 Mai. iii. 5. 
 I ivill be a swift tvitness against those 
 
 that oppress the widow and the 
 
 fatherless. 
 
 James, "i. 27. 
 Pure religion and undefled before God 
 
 and the Father is this; to visit the 
 
 fatherless and the widow in their 
 
 affliction. 
 
 Her Soliloquy. 
 
 How hath the sunshine of truth disco- 
 vered, what appeared not by the candle*
 
 THE WIDOW. ^11 
 
 light of nature ! How many atoms in 
 thy soul hath this light descried, which 
 in thy natural twilight were not visible? 
 Excessive sadness for so great a loss can 
 want no argument from flesh and blood, 
 which arguments can want no weight 
 if weighed in the, partial balance of 
 Nature. A husband is thyself divided ; 
 thy children, thyself multiplied ; for 
 whom (when snatched away) God allows 
 some grains, to thy affections ; but when 
 they exceed the allowance, they will 
 not pass in Heaven's account, but must 
 be coined again. Couldst thou so often 
 offend thy God without a tear, and 
 cannot he, my soul, displease thee once 
 without so many ? Doth the want of 
 spiritual graces not trouble thee, and 
 shall a temporal loss so much torment 
 thee ? Is thy husband taken away, and 
 art thou cast down ? Hath thy God 
 promised to be thy husband, and art 
 thou not comforted ? true symptoms 
 p 2
 
 312 THE WIDO^wr. 
 
 of more flesh than spirit. Thy husband 
 was the gift, thy God the giver; and 
 wilt thou more dispraise the giver than 
 the gift ? Be wise, my soul ; if thou 
 hast lost a man, thou hast found a God : 
 having therefore wet thy wings in 
 Nature's showers, go and dry them in 
 the God of Nature's sunshine. 
 
 Her Prayer. 
 
 O God, in the knowledge of whom 
 is the perfection of all joy, at whose 
 right hand are pleasures evermore ; that 
 makest the comforts of this life moment- 
 ary, that we may not overprize them, 
 and yet hast made them requisite, that 
 we may not undervalue them I, a late 
 sharer in this worldly happiness, but a 
 sad witness of its vanity, do here address 
 myself to thee, the only crown of all 
 my joys, in whom there is no variable- 
 i?es3, nor shadow of change. Lord, 
 5
 
 THE WIDOW. 2ii 
 
 thou didst give me what my unthank- 
 fulness hath taken from me ; but thou 
 hast taken from me what thy goodness 
 hath promised to supply: thou hast 
 given and thou hast taken, blessed be 
 thy name for ever ! Thou then, O God, 
 who art no less able to perform than 
 willing to promise, whose mercy is 
 more ready to bestow, than my misery 
 is to beg, strengthen my faith, that I 
 may believe thy promise ; encourage my 
 hopes, that I may expect thy perform- 
 ance ; quicken my affections, that I may 
 love the promiser ; be thou all in all to 
 me, that am nothing at all without thee ; 
 sweeten my misery with the sense of 
 thy mercy, and lighten my darkness 
 with the sun of thy glory ; seal in my 
 heart the assurance of adoption, that I 
 may with boldness call thee my father ; 
 sanctify my actions with the spirit of 
 meekness, that my conversation may 
 testify that I am thy child ; wean my 
 P 3
 
 214 THE WIDOW. 
 
 heart from worldly sorrow, lest I mourn 
 like them that have no hope ; be thou 
 my bridegroom, and let our marriage- 
 chamber be my heart ; own me as thy 
 bride, and purify me with the odours of 
 thy spirit ; prevent me with thy bless- 
 ings ; protect me by thy grace ; preser^ e 
 me for thyself; prepare me for thy king- 
 dom. Be thou a father to bless me ; be 
 thou a husband to comfort me. In the 
 midst of my want, be thou my plenty ; 
 in the depth of my mourning, be thou 
 ray jnirth. Raise my glory from the 
 dust, and then my dust shall shew forth 
 thy praise. Be thou a \^'all to support 
 my vine, and let my branches twine 
 about thee: let tHem flourish in the sun- 
 shine of thy grace, that they may bring 
 forth fruit to the glory of thy name.
 
 215 
 
 THE AFFLICTED MAN. 
 
 His Trouble. 
 
 Which way soever I turn my eyes, I 
 see nothing but spectacles of misery, 
 and emblems of mortality ; if I look up, 
 there I behold an angry God, and I am 
 troubled ; look downwards, there I see 
 a prepared hell, and I am terrified ; look 
 on my right hand, and there prosperity 
 emboldens me to a secure presumption ; 
 look on my left hand, and there adver- 
 sity enforces me to a sad despair ; look 
 about me, and there* I find legions of 
 temptations beleaguering me; look with- 
 in me, and there I see a guilty con- 
 science accusing me ; in all which I 
 perceive nothing but misery, nothing 
 but man ; and in that misery, the para- 
 phrase of man : " Man that is born of 
 p 4
 
 2\6 TJTE AFFLICTED MAN. 
 
 a woman, hath hut a short time to 
 live, and is full of trouble." Were 
 not -man's time short, man were the 
 miserablest of all creatures, and I the 
 miserablest of all men^ I am still 
 haunted with three enemies, the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil. The world 
 troubles me with her cares ; the flesh 
 troubles me with infirmities ; the devil 
 troubles me with temptations. If I am 
 rich, I am troubled with fears to lose ; 
 if poor, I am troubled with cares to get. 
 If single, troubled to seek a wife; if 
 married, troubled to please a wife. If I 
 have children, every child is a new 
 trouble ; if childless, I am as much 
 troubled for an heir ; if sick, troubled 
 with distempers and drugs ; if sound, 
 troubled with lust or labour; if in my 
 business, troubled with vexation ; if in 
 my devotion, troubled with distraction, 
 ^fan that is born of a woman, hath but 
 a short time, and is full of trouble.
 
 THE AFFLICT^li UXiii. 217 
 
 Where shall I turn me to avoid this toil? 
 what steps shall I tread to escape this 
 trouble ? Shall I incline mj heart to 
 mirth ? mirth is but madness, there- 
 fore trouble. Shall I quicken my spirits 
 with plenteous wine ? in much w^ine 
 is much distraction, therefore trouble. 
 Or, shall my wiser heart search out the 
 bounds of knowledge ? in much wisdom 
 is much grief; and who increaseth 
 knowledge, increaseth trouble. Whom 
 shall I call to aid ? to whom shall I ad- 
 dress my sad complaints ? Call to my 
 kindred, they disclaim me; call to my 
 friends, and they deride me. Oh, that 
 f had the wings of a dove, that I may 
 fly away and be at rest ! But whither 
 wouldst thou fly ? 
 
 Fly from thyself, my soul, and haste 
 thee to that voice that says. 
 
 Call upon me in the time of trouble, 
 and I tvill hewr thee.
 
 218 THE AFFLICTED MAN, 
 
 Psal. xci.*i5. 
 He shall call upon me, and I will anstver 
 him ; I will he with him in trouble, I 
 will deliver him a?2d honour him. 
 Psal. liv, 7. 
 He hath delivered me out of all my 
 troubles, and mine eyes have seen 
 their desii^e upon mine enemies. 
 Psal. Ixxxi. 7. 
 Tliou calledst to me in trouble, and 1 
 delivered thee ; I answered thee in the 
 secret place of thunder. 
 : 2 Cor. i. 4. 
 
 He comforteth us in all our tribulations, 
 that tve may be able to comfort them 
 that are in any trouble, by the comfort 
 whereby we ourselves are comforted 
 of God. 
 
 >> His Soliloquy, 
 
 Be wise, my soul, and what tbou 
 canst not remedy, endure. Doth the
 
 THE AFFLICTED MAN. 21Q 
 
 world trouble thee ? cling close to ITim 
 that hath overcome the world : do^h the 
 flesh trouble thee ? ruortitV the flesh in 
 thy members : doth the devil trouble 
 thee ? resist the devil, and he will fly 
 from thee : art thou troubled with cares 
 in thy abundance ? be not too careful for 
 to-morrow : art thou troubled with 
 wants in thy adversity ? be content with 
 the bread of to-day : doth sickness 
 trouble thee ? make use of it, and sub- 
 mit : doth strength of constitution 
 trouble thee with concupiscence ? fast 
 and pray : in thy vocation art thou 
 troubled with vexation ? let those vex^ 
 ations wean thee from the world ; is 
 thy devotion troubled with distractions } 
 let those distractions bring thee closer 
 to thy God : do losses trouble thee ? 
 make godliness thy gain : do crosses 
 trouble thee ? make the Cross thy medi- 
 tation. Thus, whilst thou strugglest 
 against the stream of nature, thou shalt
 
 226 TtlE AFFLICTED MANw 
 
 be carried with a gale of grace ; and 
 when thy strength shall fail thee, a 
 stronger arm shall strengthen thee : 
 he that brings thee on with courage, 
 Vvili fetch thee off with conquest. J)o 
 what thou canst, and pray for what thou 
 canst not. 
 
 Ilis Prayer. 
 
 O God, that art the searcher of all 
 KeaFts, the revenger of all iniquities, 
 ttie comfort of all true penitents, whose 
 Ways are inscrutable, whose judgments- 
 grre intolerable, whose mercy is incom- 
 prehensible I, thy afflicted suppliant, 
 sensible of thy displeasure, bewail the 
 multitude of ray offences, and am con- 
 vinced, by my own conscience and thy 
 tatberly corrections. Which way soever 
 I look, I see nothing but sin and death, 
 fk>thing but misery : but. Lord, so in- 
 cite k thy mercy abov& my siiJ> and s^
 
 THE AFFLICTED MAN. 221 
 
 little pleasure takest thou in the de- 
 struction of a sinner, that thou hast 
 commanded me to call upon thee in my 
 trouble, and hast promised to hear me. 
 In due obedience, therefore, to thv 
 sweet command, and in firm confidence 
 of thy gracious promise, my bended 
 knees, O God, present thee with a 
 broken heart : thy sacrifices, O God, 
 are a contrite spirit ; a broken heart, O 
 Lord, thou wilt not despise. Lord, I 
 am weak, strengthen me with thy grace; 
 mine enemies are strong, weaken them 
 with thy power ; suppress the cares of 
 the world that so oppress me ; subdue 
 the exorbitances of the flesh that so 
 molest mc ; curb the insolences of the 
 devil that so afflict me ; endue mv arm 
 with power, and arm my heart with 
 patience. Make haste, O God, to hear 
 me ; make speed, O Lord, to help me. 
 Break not thy covenant with thy servant^ 
 O God, nor alter what thy lips have ut
 
 222 THE AFFLICTED MAN. 
 
 tered ; remember thy promise to the 
 son of thy handmaid, for it is my com- 
 fort in all my trouble. I call to thee in 
 the time of my distress ; deliver me, O 
 God, according to thy word. Consider, 
 O Lord, I am but dust ; oh, magnify 
 thy power in my weakness ! Remem- 
 ber, O God, that I have been long af- 
 flicted; oh, magnify thy mercy in my 
 deliverance ! For in death there is no 
 remembrance of thee, and in the grave 
 what tongue can praise thee ? iSIy bones 
 are vexed, and my soul is troubled ; but 
 do thou, O Lord, behold my griefs, 
 for they are great ; regard my troubles, 
 for they are many; quicken my soul for 
 thy name's sake, and bring me out of 
 all my troubles ; then shall my soul re- 
 joice in thy salvation, and magnify thy 
 name for ever and ever.
 
 !23 
 
 THE DESERTED MM^l, 
 
 His Misery. 
 
 WnEX I consider but the goodness of 
 my God, in offering his gracious favours 
 to me, and my own vileness in refusing 
 of such gracious offers I cannot choose 
 but wonder at his mercy, in that I live, 
 and am not snatched away from the pos- 
 sibility of repentance. But, ah ! what 
 comfort is a life that is branded with the 
 mark of death ? and w^hat happiness is 
 this possibility of repentance, which hath 
 no strength to actuate it, but thy own ? 
 My soul, in what a case art thou ? into 
 what a miserable state art thou reduced! 
 Thou hast forsaken thy God, and I fear 
 thy God has forsaken thee. Methinks 
 I want the glory of that sun that once 
 revived me ; methinks I lack the com-t 
 
 4
 
 224 THE DESERTED MAIf. 
 
 fort of those beams that once refreshed 
 me ; methinks I fear, where no fear is ; 
 and where I most should fear, I find 
 myself no whit afraid. Those heavenly 
 raptures which heretofore surprised my 
 ravished soul, have now no relish in my 
 drowsy ear ; those heart-confounding 
 judgments, whose very whispers in for- 
 mer times w^ould split my soul asunder, 
 fiow move not if they thunder. Those 
 sinful thoughts that pressed my soul like 
 mill-stones, can now be acted and re- 
 acted without a sigh. Those heavenly 
 prophets, whose presence filled me with 
 delight, now trouble not my patience 
 with their absence. My heart is a lump 
 of dead flesh, my soul is stricken with 
 a dead palsy, my affections with a le- 
 thargy. My zeal is frozen, my faith is 
 bed-rid, my charity is dead, and my 
 greatest grief is, that I cannot grieve. 
 The mark of Cain is upon me, and I 
 fear that every beast that meets me will
 
 THE DESERTED MA]!ff* 22S 
 
 devour me. O my soul, what comfort 
 can remain with thee when the God of 
 comfort has forsaken thee ? What safety 
 canst thou find when thou hast lost the 
 God of peace? What would I not forego 
 that I might re-obtain my God ! what 
 pleasure would I not abjure, that I might 
 regain his gracious pleasure ! 
 
 Cheer up, my soul ; who gives thee 
 a heart to desire, will likewise give thee 
 thy heart's desire. Let not his seeming 
 absence dismay thee; the sense of his 
 absence is the symptom of his presence ; 
 let his word be an antidote for thy 
 despair, which saith. 
 
 For a small moment have I forsaken, 
 hut with great mercies will I gather thee, 
 Isaiah, liv. 7. 
 
 Deut. iv. 31. 
 The Lord thy God is a merciful God ; 
 
 he will not forsake thee, neither destroy
 
 226 THE DESERTED MAN. 
 
 thee, nor forget the ccwenant of thy 
 fathers, which he sivare unto them, 
 2 Cor. iv. g. 
 We ate persecuted, but not forsahen, 
 
 Joshua, i. 5. 
 / will not fail thee nor forsahe thee. 
 
 Nehemiah, ix. Si. 
 For thy great name sake thou didst not 
 utterly consume them nor forsahe 
 them, for thou art a gracious and a 
 '^^ merciful God, 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 If tfiy breath, O my soul, fail thee 
 but a minute, thou diest ; if thy health 
 forsake thee awhile, thou languishest ; 
 if thy sleep leave thee, thou art dis- 
 tempered ; no wonder, if thy God w4th* 
 draws, that thou art troubled. Deject 
 not, O my soul, nor let thy thoughts 
 despair; stay thee with his promises, 
 and comfort thee with his mercies. Dost
 
 THE DESERTED MAN". 227 
 
 thou mourn for him ? thou shalt be com- 
 forted in him : dost thou thirst after 
 him ? thou shalt be filled with him. He 
 that suffers not a cup of cold water for 
 his sake to go unrewarded, will not per- 
 mit a tear for his love to be unregarded. 
 He w^ithdraws , to sharpen thy desire ; 
 he seems lost, to inflame the seeker ; he 
 forsakes thee awhile, that he may be 
 thine for ever. Thou wantest him, be- 
 cause thou desirest him ; thou desirest 
 him, because thou West him. Thou 
 couldst not love him, had he not first 
 loved thee; and whom he loves, he loves 
 to the end. If thy neglect has sent him 
 from thee, let thy diligence draw him 
 to thee; if thou hast lost him by thy 
 sins, seek him by true repentance ; and 
 if thou find him by thy prayer, enter- 
 tain him with thy thanksgiving. 
 
 ^2
 
 22& THE DESERTED MAN. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 '* t) God, without the sunshine of whose 
 gracious eye, the creature sits in dark- 
 ness, and in the shadow of death; whose 
 presence is the very hfe and true delight 
 of those that love thee ; cast down thine 
 eyes of pity upon a lost sheep of Israel, 
 which has wandered from thy fold into 
 the desert of his own lusts. What 
 dangers can I choose but meet, that 
 have run myself out of thy protection ? 
 what sanctuary can secure me, that 
 have left the covert of thy wings ? what 
 comfort can I expect, O God, that have 
 forsaken thee, the God of comfort and 
 consolation ? Return thee, O great 
 Shepherd of my soul, and with thy 
 crook reduce me to thy fold ; thou art 
 my way, conduct me; thou art my 
 light, direct me ; thou art my life, 
 quicken me. Disperse |jl^e dou4$ of 
 5
 
 THE DESERTED MAN. 229 
 
 sins that stand betwixt thy angry face 
 and my benighted soul ; remove that 
 cfirsed bar which my rebelhon hath set 
 betwixt thy deafened ear and my con- 
 fused prayers ; and let thy comfortable 
 beams reflect upon rne. Leave me not, 
 O God, unto myself; O Lord, forsate 
 me not too long; for in me dwells 
 nothing but despair, and the terrors of ;fe 
 hell have taken hold of me. Cast me 
 not away from thy presence, and take 
 not thy holy spirit from me. Remove, 
 this heart of stone, and give me, O good 
 God, a heart of flesh, that it may be 
 capable of thy mercies, and sensible of 
 thy judgments; plant in my heart a 
 fear of thy name, and deliver my soul 
 from carnal security ; order my afliic- 
 tions according to thy will, that I may 
 love what thou lovest, and hate what 
 thou hatest ; kindle my zeal with a coal 
 from thine altar, and increase my faith 
 by the assurance of thy love. O holy 
 Q 3
 
 230 THE HUMBLE MAN. 
 
 fire, that always burnest and never goest 
 out, kindle me I O sacred light, that 
 always shinest and art never dark, illu- 
 minate me ! O sweet Jesus, pierce the 
 marrow of my soul with the shafts of 
 thy love, that it may burn and melt, 
 and languish with the only desire of thee! 
 Let my soul always desire thee, and seek 
 thee, and find thee, and sweetly rest in 
 thee ; be thou in all my thoughts, in all 
 my words, in all my actions ; that both 
 my thoughts, my words, and my actions 
 being sanctified by thee here, I may he 
 glorified by thee hereafter. 
 
 THE HUMBLE MAN, 
 
 His Depressions. 
 
 How more than happy are those sons 
 of pei?> that mea^ur^ no further ground
 
 THE HUMBLE MAN. ^31 
 
 than from the sacred font unto their 
 peaceful grave ! How blessed are thos^ 
 infants which never lived to taste those 
 dear-bought pennyworths of deceitful 
 earth ! Alas ! there is nothing here 
 but bitter pills of pleasure-gilded grief; 
 here is nothing but substantial sorrows, 
 clothed in 'the shades of false delight : 
 look where I list, there is nothing can 
 appear before mine eye but sorrow^, the 
 lamentable object of my misery. Con- 
 template where I list, here is nothing 
 can present before my thoughts but 
 misery, the object of my mourning. 
 My soul is a sparkle of divine fire, but 
 quenched with lust ; an image of my 
 glorious Creator, but blurred with sin ; 
 a parcel of mortal immortality, reserved 
 for death. My understanding is dark- 
 ened with error ; my judgment is per- 
 verted with partiality; my will is di- 
 verted with sensuality; my memory like 
 a sieve, retains the bran, and lets the 
 
 Q4
 
 232 THE HUMBLE MAN. 
 
 flower pass ; my affections are aguish to 
 good, and feverish to evil ; my faith 
 wavers ; my hope tires ; my charity 
 freezes; my thoughts are vain, my 
 words are idle, my actions sinful ; my 
 body is a tabernacle of grief, an hospital 
 of diseases, a tenement of death, a se- 
 pulchre of a sinful soul. O my soul, 
 how canst thou own thyself without 
 dejection, that canst not view thyself 
 vrithouc corruption ? How art thou in- 
 closed in walls of dust tempered with a 
 few tears; a lump of earth, quickened 
 with a span of life ! Thy life is short 
 and evil, truly miserable, because evil ; 
 only happy, because short : when thou 
 endeavourest good, thy heart faints ; 
 when thou strugglest with evil, thy 
 strength fails. For this my soul is 
 humbled, and my spirits are depressed ; 
 for this I loath myself, and view my 
 misery with indignation.
 
 THE HUMBLE MAW. 232 
 
 But cheer up, my soul, and let not 
 thy thoughts be overpressed. The ball 
 that is thrown against the ground, re- 
 bounds. HumiHty is the harbinger of 
 grace. Art thou humbled ? fear not ; 
 dost thou fear ? despair not ; dost thou 
 despair ? persist not. Hark what the 
 God of truth hath said : 
 
 He that is humble shall be exalted, 
 Luke, xiv. 1 1. 
 
 **^ -^ '"- Prov. xxix. 231 ' 
 A man* s pride shall bring 7itm low. But 
 
 honour shall uphold the humble in 
 
 spirit. 
 
 1 Peter, v. 6. * * 
 
 Humble yourselves under the mighty 
 
 hand of God, that he may exalt you 
 
 in due time, 
 
 Prov. XV. 33. 
 Before honour is humility. 
 
 Job, xxii. 2Q. 
 When men are cast dozvn, then thou 
 
 shalt say, There is lifting up, and 
 
 God shall iave the humble person^
 
 .234 THE HUMBLE MA:!?. 
 
 If;: His Soliloqvyi 
 
 Ahiu virtues, as well theological as 
 moral, are besieged with two vices ; hu- 
 mility, the fundamental of all virtues, 
 is not exempted; some, puffed up with 
 their owa lowliness, grow proud, be- 
 cause humble, being high-minded by an 
 antiperistasis ; this is spiritual pride: 
 Others, taking too single a view of their 
 own corruptions, and more sensible of 
 the disease than of the remedy, are cast 
 into despondency of mind ; and this is 
 called dejection. The first froths up 
 into presumption ; the second settles 
 down into despair. How canst thou, 
 O my soul, in such a tempest, escape this 
 Sci/lla, or avoid that Charyhdis P Dost 
 thou fear the tossing waves ? contract 
 thy sails ; fearest thou the quicksands ? 
 use thy compass; He that stills the 
 waves will assist thee; He that com-
 
 THE HUMBLE MAN. 235 
 
 mands the ^ea will advise thee. Look 
 hot only on thy loadstone, for then 
 thou wilt not see thy danger ; nor only 
 on thy misery, for then thou wilt not 
 be sensible of thy deliverance. If thy 
 humility pufF thee up, thou art not fit 
 for mercy. If dejection knock thee 
 down, mercy is not fit for thee. Look 
 up, O my soul, to God's mercy, so 
 as thou mayst be sensible of thy own 
 misery; and so look down on thine own 
 misery, as thou mayst be capable of 
 God's mercy. 
 
 * His Prayer, 
 
 Eternal God, who scatterest the 
 proud in the imagination of their hearts, 
 and givest grace to the humble and con- 
 trite spirit, bow down thy gracious 
 ear to my vile dust and ashes, whose 
 misery thus casts itself before thy mercy. 
 Lord, I am ashamed of mine own cor- 
 ruptions, and utterl^^lp^th mine own
 
 236 TItE irtJMBLE MAN'. 
 
 condition. I am not an object for minr 
 oYrn eyes without disdain, nor a subject 
 for mine own thoughts without con- 
 tempt ; yet am I bold to prostrate my 
 vile self before thy glorious eyes, and to 
 present my sinful prayers before thy 
 gracious ears. Lord, if thy mercy ex- 
 ceeded not my misery, I could look for 
 no compassion ; and if thy grace trans- 
 cended not my sin, I could expect for 
 nothing but confusion. Oh, thou that 
 TOadest me of nothing, renew me, that 
 have made myself far less than nothing; 
 revive those sparkles in my soul which 
 lust hath quenched ; cleanse thine image 
 in me which my sin hath blurred ; en- 
 lighten my understanding with thy 
 truth ; rectify my judgment with thy 
 word ; direct my will wdth thy spirit ; 
 strengthen my memory to retain good 
 things ; order my affections that I may 
 love thee above all things; increase my 
 taitli ; encourage my hope ; quicken my 
 charity ; sw^eeten my thoughts with thy
 
 THE Tumble man. 237 
 
 grace ; season my words with thy spirit; 
 sanctify my actions with thy wisdom ; 
 .subdue the insolenge of my rebellious 
 flesh ; restrain the fury of my unbridled 
 passions ; reform the frailty of my cor- 
 rupted nature; incline my heart to de- 
 sire what is good, and bless my endea- 
 vours that I may do what I desire. 
 Give me a true knowledge of myself^ 
 and make me sensible of mine own in- 
 firmities ; let not the sense of those 
 mercies which I enjoy, blot out of my 
 remembrance those miseries which I 
 deserve that I may be truly thankfa! 
 for the one, and humbly penitent for the 
 other. In all my afflictions keep me 
 from despair; in all my deliverances 
 preserve me from ingratitude; that being 
 timely quickened with the sense of thy 
 goodness^ and truly humbled by the 
 sight of mine own weakness, I may be 
 here exalted by the virtue of thy grace, 
 and hereafter advanced to the kingdom 
 of thy glory.
 
 '=' ^ 238 
 
 THE SINNER. 
 
 His Conflict, 
 
 When sin entered into the world, death 
 followed. The Scripture tells me of 
 two deaths, the first and the second, 
 this spiritual, that natural ; the first, a 
 separation of the body and the soul, 
 is temporal; the second, a separation of 
 the body and the soul from the favour of 
 God, is eternal: the first, therefore, is ter- 
 rible ; the second, intolerable. If the first 
 death so terrified the Lord of life, how 
 terrible will the second be to me, the 
 child of -deiith ? If every trivial grief 
 disturbs my thoughts, if every petty 
 sickness distempers my body, if the 
 very thought of death dismays my soul, 
 how horrible will death itself appear} 
 Oh, when the silver cord shall be dis-'
 
 THE SINNER.' 23Cp 
 
 solved, the golden bowl demolished^ 
 the pitcher at the fountain broke, the 
 cistern- wheels stopped how will the 
 whole universe of my afflicted body be 
 perplexed ! Yet, were I to endure for 
 every man that hath been, is, and shall 
 be, a death as oft repeated as the sea- 
 shore hath sands, all this were nothing 
 to a minute's torment of the second 
 death. O treacherous and soul- de- 
 stroying sin, how hast thou thus be- 
 trayed me to eternal death, by thy false, 
 momentary, and deceitful pleasures? 
 How hast thou bewitched me with flat- 
 tering smiles, and, with thy counterfeit 
 delights, thus tickled me to death ! Thou 
 hast not only deprived me of a transitory 
 life, but led me into the hideous jaws 
 of an everlasting death. Thou hast not 
 only divorced my miserable soul front 
 her beloved body, but separated both 
 soul and body from the favours of my 
 God, and left them to the insufferable 
 torments of eternity. O my soul,
 
 240 _ THE SINNER. 
 
 can thy life be less than miserable, which 
 being ended, is transported to so infinite 
 a misery ? How can thy death be less 
 than terrible, which opens the gates to 
 such eternal torments ! What wilt thou 
 do ? or whither wilt thou fly ? thy ac- 
 tions cannot save thee, nor thy flight 
 secure thee. Death is thy enemy, who, 
 taking advantage of thy lusts, hath 
 strengthened itself through thy weak- 
 ness. 
 
 Repair to thy colours, O my soul ; 
 the Lord of life is thy General ; he hath 
 foiled thy enemy, and disarmed him : 
 -^stand fast he is conquered, if thou 
 strive to conquer. Hark what thy Ge- 
 neral saith : 
 
 ' He that overcojneth, shall not be hurt 
 of the second death. Rev. ii. 1 1 . 
 
 Rev. ii. 7. 
 To him that overcometh I will give to eat 
 
 of the tree of life, which is in the midst 
 
 of the Paradise of God,
 
 THE SINNER. 241 
 
 Rev. iii. 21. 
 
 jTo him that overcometh I will grant to 
 sit with me in my throne, even as I 
 also overcame, and am set down with 
 my Father in his throne* 
 Rev. ii. 17. 
 
 To him that overcometh I will give to eat 
 of the hidden Manna, and will give 
 him a white stone, and in the stone a 
 new name tvritten, which no man 
 hnoweth, saving he that receiveth it* 
 
 His Soliloquy* 
 
 Our life is a warfare, and every 
 Christian is two soldiers ; the army 
 consists of good and evil motions ; these 
 under the conduct of the flesh ; those 
 under the command of the Spirit : the 
 two generals, God and the devil : the 
 field, the heart : the word, on the one 
 side. Glory ; on the other side, Pleasure: 
 the reward of both, eternity : oxx that
 
 342 THE SINNER. 
 
 side, of happiness ; on this side, of 
 torment. How is thy heart, O my soul, 
 like Rebecca's womb ? how do two 
 nations strive within thee ? Cheer up ; 
 take courage in the reward that is set 
 before thee ; so fight that thou mayest 
 conquer ; so run that thou mayest ob- 
 tain : let not the pohcy of the enemy 
 dismay thee, nor thy own fewness dis- 
 animate thee. Advance therefore, O 
 my dull soul ; fear not the fiery darts of 
 Satan, nor be afraid of his arrow that 
 flies by night : press towards the great 
 reward, and let thy spirit resist to blood. 
 Take courage from thy cause: thou 
 fightest for thy Prince, thy God, and 
 takest up arms against his enemy, and 
 thy rebellious lusts. Is thy enemy too 
 potent ? fear not ; art thou besieged ? 
 faint not ; art thou routed ? fly not. Call 
 aid, and thou shalt be strengthened ; pe- 
 tition, and thou shalt be relieved; pray, 
 and thou shalt be recruited.
 
 TH SINNER. 243 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, to whom belong the issues of 
 death, at whose terrible name the very 
 foundation of my soul trembles ; I, a 
 poor convicted sinner, accused by my 
 own conscience, and ready to be con- 
 demned by thy justice, do here, in the 
 very wounding of my heart, confess 
 myself a miserable creature. 1 have 
 nothing to plead, O God, but mercy ; 
 and where shall I find that mercy but in 
 my merciful Redeemer ? Blessed Re- 
 deemer, that hast promised victory to 
 those that strive, and life to those that 
 overcome, teach thou my hands to war, 
 and my fingers to fight ; give me a loyal 
 heart, that the enticements of the world 
 may not seduce it ; give me a constant 
 spirit, that the pleasures of the flesh 
 may not entice it ; give me a wise fore- 
 cast, that the subtlety of the devil may 
 R 3
 
 244 THE SINNER. 
 
 not entrap me. Let not the multitude 
 of mine enemies discourage me, nor the 
 greatness of their power dismay me, 
 nor the M^eakness of my arm dishearten 
 me. Thou, that gavest little Israel vic- 
 tory against great Pharaoh, strengthen 
 me ; thou that gavest little David the 
 day against the great Goliah, succour 
 me; thou that gavest single Sampson 
 conquest against the numerous Philis- 
 tines, save me. Lord, fight against 
 them that fight against my soul. Arise, 
 O God, and let thine enemies be con- 
 founded : Lord, shield me from the 
 fury of my ov^^n corruptions, for they 
 are many ; deliver me from the imagi- 
 nations of my own heart, for they are 
 evil, and that continually. Let not the 
 frailty of my youth beset me, and keep 
 -me from the danger of my secret sins. 
 Double my w^atchfulness upon my 
 Dalilah, that is so apt to kiss me and 
 betray me. Without thy grace I have 
 5 *
 
 SION. 245 
 
 no will to strive, no power to stand, no 
 hope to conquer. Sustain me, that I may 
 not faint ; second me, that I may not 
 fly ; strengthen me, that I may not yield. 
 Gird my loins with truth, and let my 
 breast-plate be thy righteousness ; that, 
 putting on the helmet of salvation, I 
 may fight a good fight, and receive a 
 crown of glory ; that, having passed the 
 terrors of the first death, I may escape 
 the torments of the second, and triumph 
 with thee in the kingdom of glory. 
 
 SIGN. 
 
 Her Decay, 
 
 Dost ask me why so sad ? or, can my 
 
 sorrow be thy wonder ? Canst thou, 
 
 or can thine eye, expect a sunshine where 
 
 R 3
 
 246 SJON. 
 
 the greater lamp of heaven is eclipsed } 
 or can my heart be frolic when the 
 vineyard of my soul is blasted ? Can 
 the children of the bride-chamber choose 
 but hang their heads to see the bride- 
 groom slighted, and the bride's lovely 
 cheeks profaned with every peasant's 
 hand ? Can poor affrighted lambs 
 wanton and frisk upon the present plains, 
 when their worried mothers tremble 
 at the quest of every cur ? What mem- 
 ber can rejoice when the body is dis- 
 membered ? Sion, the glory of Heaven, 
 is darkened, and her bright beams 
 obscured ; Sion, the vineyard of our 
 souls, is blasted, and her clusters are 
 grown sour ; Sion, the bride of my Re- 
 deemer, is defiled; her blood- washed 
 robes are soiled and slubbered ; Sion, 
 the mistress of our flocks, is overpow- 
 ered, and her tender lambs have no pro- 
 tection ; Sion, the mother of us all, is 
 barren, and her uberous breasts are dry; 
 Sion, the glorious corporation of the
 
 SION. . 247. 
 
 elect, is factious in itself, and her mem- 
 bers are disjointed. Ah ! how can my 
 distressed soul find rest, when Sion, the 
 rest of my distressed soul, is oppressed ? 
 How many of her dearest children are 
 now tugging at the slavish oar of in- 
 fidels ! how many roaring under the 
 imperious hand of the daughter of 
 Babylon! how many banished from 
 their native soils, and driven from their 
 usurped possessions ! This vine, which 
 Heaven's right hand hath planted, is 
 decayed ; her fences broken, her hedge 
 trodden down, her body torn by schis- 
 matics, cankered with heretics, blasted 
 with fiery spirits ; her branches rent 
 with the wild boar ; her grapes devoured 
 w^ith the wily f^x; her shepherds are 
 turned wolves, and have devoured her 
 flocks ; confusion is within her walls, 
 and desolation is near unto her gates. 
 O Jerusalem, if I forget to mourn for 
 thee, let my right hand forget her cun- 
 
 R4
 
 248 SIGN. 
 
 ning ; and if I prize not thee above my 
 greatest joy, let my tongue cleave to my 
 roof. 
 
 But hark ! I hear a heavenly voice 
 whispering glad tidings in my ear ; 
 which saith, 
 
 /, the Lord, do heep if, and ivill water 
 it, Isaiah, xxvii. 3. 
 
 Psal. ix. 35. 
 The Lord will save Sion, and will build 
 the cities of Judah, that they may 
 dwell there, and have it iji possession, 
 Psal. Ixxxvii. 5. 
 Of Sion it shall be said, Tliis and that 
 man was horn in her, and the Highest 
 himself shall establish her, 
 Isaiah, xiv. 30. 
 The Lord hath founded Sion, and the 
 power of his people shall trust in it, 
 Isaiah, xii. C. 
 Cry out, and shout, thou inhabitant of 
 Sion, for great is the Holy One of 
 , Israel in the midst of thee.
 
 SIGN. 249 
 
 Fler Soliloquy, 
 
 Who is not interested in the miseries 
 of Sion ? What sadness may not be 
 justified in her calamity ? O my soul, 
 thou mayst here spend thyself in holy 
 passion, and dissolve tliyself in tears; 
 but yet be wisely sad ; let not thy tears 
 exceed thy confidence, nor let thy grief 
 exclude thy hope ; mourn not for the 
 bride as if the bridegroom were not ; or 
 being, had no power ; or having power, 
 wanted will ; or having will, were, like 
 thyself, forgetful. No, no, my soul; 
 He that suffers her to suffer, will sus- 
 tain her in her sufi^e ranee, and croM^n 
 her sufferings. When she is persecuted^ 
 she prospers ; w^hen she is oppressed, 
 she flourisheth ; in her contempt, she 
 gains honour; in her wounds, victories; 
 in her reproach, credit ; in her patience, 
 a, crown ; and with her crown of thorns.
 
 250 siON. 
 
 a crown of glory. Can she be more 
 like her bridegroom than in affliction ? 
 Can she more resemble her husband than 
 in persecution ? Remember, O my 
 soul, she is a plant of his right hand's 
 planting, and ^vho can pluck it up ? 
 Fear not ; this vine must prosper in spite 
 of opposition. Yet know, my soul, 
 thou shalt not prosper, nor see good 
 days, unless thou wish prosperity to Je- 
 rusalem, and pray for peace in Sion. 
 
 The Frayer. 
 
 O God, that art the beauty of Sion, 
 and the glory of thy Jerusalem, and the 
 joy of thine elect, behold the mangled 
 body of thy distressed Church ! Relieve 
 the miseries of her distempered mem- 
 bers. She is our lamp, illuminate her 
 with thy glory ; she is thy vine, O 
 fructify her with thy grace ; she is thy 
 l)ride, embrace her in thy love; she is
 
 thy flock, protect her by thy power; 
 she is our body, rectify her with thy 
 health ; we are her members, sanctify 
 us with thy righteousness. Let not the 
 malice of Satan discourage her; let not 
 the counsels of the wicked disturb her ; 
 let not the gates of hell prevail against 
 her. Give her verity in her doctrine, 
 unity in herself, uniformity in her dis- 
 cipline, universality in her progress. 
 Repair her broken fences, and weaken 
 the power of the wild boar ; bless al 
 such as love hei*; and as for her enemies, 
 either convert them in thy mercy, or 
 confound them in thy justice. Let her 
 appear to be thy daughter, and let the 
 King's daughter be all glorious within ; 
 let her be known to be thy ark, and let 
 Dagon fall down before her ; purge her 
 from error, heresy, ignorance, and su- 
 perstition ; and being purged, oh take 
 thou pleasure in her beauty ! Behold her 
 branches which suffer for thy name, and
 
 252 SI OX. 
 
 give them deliverance or patience. Let 
 no weapon, that is formed against thy 
 church, prosper: and let all tongues that 
 gpeak against her be confounded. Let 
 her gates be always open, and glorify 
 the house of thy glory ; let thy hand be 
 upon the man of thy right hand, that 
 he may guard this plant Vv^hich thy right 
 hand hath planted. Give thy justice to 
 the king, and thy righteousness to the 
 king's son. Season thy seminaries with 
 thy truth ; and bless the house of Levi, 
 and bless the house of Aaron. Turn 
 thy countenance to thy first love, the 
 Jews; and take not thy candlestick from 
 thy cliosen, the Gentiles ; that having 
 one Shepherd, we may be one flock ; 
 and having owe faith, we may be one 
 church ; and having one heart to please 
 thee, we nmy have one voice to praise 
 thee here militant in the kingdom of 
 gr li -\ and hereafter triumphant in the 
 kingdom of glory.
 
 253 
 
 THE MOURNER, 
 
 His Calamity. 
 
 For stoicism to rejoice at funerals, arid 
 lament at births of men, is more abso- 
 nant to nature than to reason. Too 
 self-indulgent nature would preserve 
 herselfon any terms; but well-instructed 
 reason holds a being but an ill penny- 
 worth, purchased on condition of so long 
 a misery. Who knows himself a man, 
 needs seek no further for a cause to 
 mourn : for what is man but a sampler 
 of weakness, the spoil of time, the 
 may-game of fortune, the image of in- 
 constancy, the balance of calamity, and 
 what besides, but phlegm and choler? 
 His birth is a painful coming into the 
 world ; his life, a sinful continuance in 
 the world ; his death, a dreadful going
 
 254 THE MOURNER. 
 
 out of the world. His birth brings him 
 into the shop of sin ; his childhood binds 
 him apprentice to sin ; his youth makes 
 him free in sin ; his full age trades in 
 sin ; his old age breaks him ; his last 
 sickness arrests him ; and death casts 
 him into prison. The pleasure he takes 
 is to displease his God ; his business is to 
 disturb his neighbour; his study is to 
 destroy himself. His best labour is but 
 vanity, and the fruits of that labour are 
 vexation of spirit ; his mirth is a short 
 madness ; his sorrow a long torment ; 
 his recreation is a formal antic ; his 
 devotion an antic formality ; his course 
 of life is a quotidian ague, whose cold 
 fits are sloth and charity, whose hot fits 
 are wrath and concupiscence ; his plea- 
 sures are but airy shadows to beguile 
 him ; his honours are but frothy plea- 
 sures to betray him ; his profit is but 
 golden fetters to beslave him ; the effect 
 whereof is sin, the end whereof is 
 4
 
 THE MOURNER. 255 
 
 death. In brief, he that would learn to 
 be a mourner, let him remember that 
 he is a man. O my soul, is tliis the 
 pleasure that this world promises ? Is 
 this that happiness which the great pro- 
 miser affords ? Had man no hopes of 
 greater happiness than earth can give^ 
 how more unhappy were he than a 
 beast ! What happiness can counterpoise 
 his sorrow ? what mirth can countervail 
 his misery ? what comfort is there in 
 this house of mourning ? Where then 
 shall I repose my trust ? on whom shall 
 my crushed hopes rely ? * 
 
 Barest thou believe the word of 
 truth ? Hark what the word of truth 
 has said : 
 
 Blessed are fhe^ that moitrn, for they 
 shall he comforted. Matth. v. 4. 
 
 Psal. cxix. 50. 
 This is fny comfort in my affiiction, for 
 
 thy tvord hath quichened me.
 
 256 THE MOURNER. 
 
 Isaiah, Ixi. 2. 
 
 Proclaim the acceptable year of the 
 Lord, and the day of vengeance to 
 comfort all that mourn. 
 Jer. xxxi. 13. 
 
 / ivill turn their moiirning into joy, and 
 will comfort them, and make them re- 
 joice from their sorrow. 
 
 Psal. Ixxi. 20, 21. 
 
 Tliou ivhich hast shewed me great and 
 sore troubles, shalt quicken me again, 
 and shalt bring me up again from the 
 depths of the earth; thou shalt in- 
 crease my greatness, and comfort me 
 on every side. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Misery is the badge of mortality, 
 and mortality the lot of man. He that 
 views himself impartially, needs seek 
 no subject for a tear. Yet, O my soul, 
 hadst thou not seen thine own misery^,
 
 THE MOURNER. 257 
 
 how more miserable hadst thou been ! 
 Hadst thou been hoodwinked to thy ' 
 corruptions, hadst thou been blind to 
 thine infirmities, had thy filth been 
 painted over with vanity, how had the 
 way to thy redress been blocked up ! 
 how hadst thou stumbled at thyself, and 
 fallen at thine own destruction ! O my 
 soul, it is a great part of safety to see a 
 danger ; a good step towards health to 
 discover the disease ; a fair progress to- 
 wards happiness to behold thine own 
 misery. But evils discovered and no 
 more, grow sharper by the discovery : 
 he only uses a foreseen danger that en- 
 deavours to avoid it ; he profits by a dis- 
 covered disease that labours to amend it; 
 he takes benefit by prevised misery that 
 strives to eschew it. Being fairly 
 warned, my soul, be thou as strongly 
 armed. Dost thou plead weakness ? be 
 courageous, and thou shalt be victorious; 
 (Joes sadness cool thy courage ? be 
 s
 
 25^ "fHE MOURNER. 
 
 patient, and thou shalt be comforted; 
 remember thou art militant : dost thou 
 find thyself timorous ? strengthen thy- 
 self with resolution ; dost thou find thy- 
 self spent ? fortify thyself with prayer. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 O God, that hearest the sighing of a 
 contrite heart, and bottlest up the tears 
 of a repentant eye, bow down thy gra- 
 cious ear, and hear the torments of a 
 grieved breast ; look oh my tears, and 
 read in them what my closed lips are 
 even ashamed to utter. Thou madest 
 me free, but I have lost my freedom by 
 my rebellion ; thou madest me like thy- 
 self, but I have blurred thine image by 
 my sin ; thou madest me clean and holy, 
 but I have wallowed ia the mire of my 
 own corruptions ; thou madest me for 
 thy glrry, but I have lived to thy dis- 
 honour ; thou madest me a man, but I
 
 THE MOURNER. 25^ 
 
 have made myself a worm and no man. 
 Lord, I see the misery of my own con- 
 dition, and without thy mercy I am 
 worse than nothing : but thou art gra- 
 cious and of great compassion, and thy 
 truth endures from generation to gene- 
 ration. Lord, thou hast promised joy 
 to those that grieve, and comfort to 
 them that mourn ; in full assurance of 
 thy gracious promise,' upon my bended 
 knees, I humbly sue for thy seasonable 
 performance ! Strengthen me, that I 
 may endure this night's sorrow, and let 
 the joy of thy good Spirit cheer me in 
 the morning ; let me not grieve like 
 those that go Into the pit, nor let my 
 mourning be like theirs that have no 
 hope ; let not the vain comforts of the 
 world please me, nor the dead pleasures 
 of the earth rejoice me ; make me a 
 willing prisoner to my grief, until thou 
 please to shew thyself the God of con- 
 solation ; sanctify my sorrows to me, 
 
 s 2
 
 Z60 THE MOURNER. . 
 
 and direct my mourning to the right 
 object ; open the flood-gates of mine 
 eyes, that I may weep bitterly for my 
 offences ; dissolve my head into a tide 
 of tears, that thou mayest wash away 
 the filth of my corruptions ; let nothing 
 stop the current but the assurance of 
 thy love ; and let my furrowed cheeks 
 be dried in the sunshine of thy favour. 
 Accept, O God, of this wet sacrifice of 
 tears, and let my groaning be a peace- 
 offering for my trespasses. Look at thy 
 right hand, and for his sake that sits 
 there, grant these my petitions, finely 
 grounded on thy promise and his merits ; 
 that my sad soul, being relieved by thy 
 mercy, may receive endless comfort, and 
 thy name, eternal glory.
 
 26 1 
 
 THE SERPENT. 
 
 His Suhtilty, 
 
 What miserable dignity belongs unto 
 the honourable name of man ! what 
 sad prerogatives pertain to that unhappy 
 generation of mankind ! Ah ! what is 
 man but a polluted lump of living clay, 
 a little heap of self- corrupted earth ? 
 created for happiness, born to sorrow : 
 and what is mankind but a transitory 
 succession of misery, on whom morta- 
 lity is generally entailed from generation 
 to generation ? Each particular man is 
 the short and sad story of mankind, 
 written by his own dear experience in a 
 more favourable style, wherein every 
 one is naturally inclined to spare him- 
 self, and hide his nakedness among the 
 shades ; where, being lost, he seeks 
 himself unfound, or finds himself un- 
 s 3
 
 2(32 THE SERPENT. 
 
 known, or knows himself most misera- 
 ble. The devil appeared not as a lion ; 
 strength could not constrain an upright 
 soul : he appeared not as a dragon ; fear 
 could not compel a dauntless spirit : but 
 he appeared a serpent, to insinuate 
 and creep into the bosom of his soft 
 affections. How often is this story acted 
 by me, the miserablest of Adam's sons ! 
 Behold, how the forbidden tree of vain 
 delight stands laden with her pleasant 
 fruits ! see how the serpent twists and 
 winds, and tempts the weaker vessel of 
 my body ! which, having yielded, tastes, 
 and tempts my better part ; which done, 
 what nakedness, what shame is presented 
 before my guilty eyes ? what slight ex- 
 cuses (patched like leaves together) I 
 frame to hide my nakedness, my shame ! 
 and when the voice of my crying con- 
 science calls me in the cool of my lusts, 
 oh, how I start and tremble, and seek 
 for covert among the trees ! where, being 
 5
 
 THE SERPENT. 263 
 
 found at last, and. questioned, my soul 
 accuses the infirmity of my body ; my 
 body accuses that serpentine temptation; 
 so that all three, being partners in sin, 
 are sad partakers of the punishment. 
 Thus, every minute, O my soul, art 
 thou surprised ; thus, every moment 
 doth this twisting serpent tempt and 
 overcome thy frailty ; thus, every minute 
 are eternal deaths still multiplied upon 
 thee. What hopes hast thou, in thy col- 
 lapsed estate, to overcome that serpent, 
 which Adam, in his perfection, did not 
 conquer ? 
 
 Cheer up, my soul ; there is a Cham- 
 pion found who shall curb this serpent's 
 power, and Heaven has spoken it : 
 
 The seed of the tvoman shall break the 
 serpent's head. Gen. iii* 15. 
 Rom. xvi. 20. 
 And the God of Peace shall bruise Satc^in 
 under your feet shortly. 
 s 4
 
 264 tHE SERPENT. 
 
 1 John, iii. 8. 
 For this purpose the So7i of God was 
 manifested, that he might destroy the 
 works of the devil. 
 
 Ephes. vi. l6. 
 Above all things take the shield of faith, 
 whereivith ye shall he able to quench 
 the fiery darts of Satan, 
 Rev. xvii. 14. 
 He shall make war with the Lamb, and 
 the Lamb shall overcome him. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 .Man, by the power of transcendent 
 good, was created good, with a power 
 to continue good : man, through dis- 
 obedience, lost this power, and that 
 arbitrary goodness is turned to necessary 
 evil. The whole mass is corrupted, and 
 lies in the same condition it made itself; 
 but God, out of an unsearchable love to 
 his creature, out of his infinite wisdom
 
 THE SERPENT. 2^5 
 
 (not violating his justice) found a way 
 to exercise his mercy, drawing what 
 handfuls he pleased (not for the dignity 
 of the matter) out of this lump ; the 
 rest he left to itself. As it had been no 
 injustice in God to leave the whole in 
 the perdition it had cast itself, so it was 
 his inscrutable mercy to draw forth some 
 part out of that self-made perdition. 
 This redemption, O my soul, was a 
 legacy given at the death of thy Re- 
 deemer, and thy business is to search 
 the v/ill, and in it, thy interest : but 
 where is that will ? search the Scrip- 
 tures : but how^ shall it appear by search- 
 ing ? by the fruit thou shalt know the 
 tree. Examine thine heart : dost thou 
 find there a love to God for his ov/n 
 sake, and a love to thy neighbour for 
 God's sake, and to both for obedience 
 sake? Go thy ways, thou art in the 
 will ; and the seed of the w^oman hath 
 broke the serpent's head.
 
 200 THE SERPENT. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, that didst create mankind for 
 the glory of thy name, and redeemedst 
 man, being lost, with the blood of thy 
 only Son, and hast preserved him by 
 thy free mercy and continual providence 
 - I, a poor. son of miserable Adam, do 
 htjre acknov^^ledge myself^unworthy of 
 the least of all thy mercies. Lord, v^^hat 
 am I that thou shouldst look upon me ? 
 and what is the son of thy handmaid, 
 th:at thou shouldst think upon him ? I 
 know the best of all my actions are un- 
 clean, and these my very prayers, are 
 abomination in thy sight. My thoughts, 
 my words, nay, the whole course of 
 my life, is sin ; and there is nothing in 
 me which deserves not death. Yet, 
 Lord, even for the altar % sake on which 
 I offer up this sinful sacrifice, loath not 
 th(*: prayers of my polluted lips, nor stop
 
 THE SERPENT. 26/ 
 
 thy ears against my sad complaints. 
 Lord, I am as vile as sin can make me, 
 and deserve what curse thy wrath can 
 lay upon me : I brought corruption from 
 the womb, and sucked rebellion from 
 the very breast ; my life is nothing but 
 a trade of sin, w^ herein I hourly heap 
 upon myself wrath against the day of 
 wrath ; that, insomuch, w^ert thou not 
 more merciful than I am or can be to 
 myself, I had been now roaring under 
 thy justice that am here begging for 
 thy mercy ! Lord, I am nothing but 
 infirmity, and daily w^allow in my own 
 corruptions ; that oM serpent continu- 
 ally besieges me, and the feebleness of 
 my old man cannot resist him. Arise, 
 O God, and crush thy enemy and mine, 
 whose fury through my confusion 
 aims at thy dishonour; let the seed of 
 the woman quicken in my soul, and 
 strengthen my weakness to encounter 
 with temptation ; let it, oh, let it break
 
 268 THE SINNER. 
 
 the serpent's head, that I may conquer 
 for the time to come ; and give thou me 
 a broken heart, that I may grieve for 
 the time past ; give me water from the 
 spring of life, that it may quench the 
 fiery darts of death ; strengthen the new 
 man in me, and let the power of the 
 old man languish daily ; that being con- 
 fident in thy promise, I may be sensible 
 of thy performance; and being freed 
 by thy pbwer, I may be filled with thy 
 praise, and glorify thy name for ever and 
 for ever. 
 
 THE SINNER. 
 
 His Poverty. 
 
 Wherein doth this my natural state 
 excel a beast ? In what one thing ? 
 Am I not worse ? Their outward senses
 
 THE SINNER. 26Q 
 
 are more perfect, mi/ inward senses are 
 less pure. Their natural instinct desires 
 good, and chooses it ; but m j perverted 
 will sees good, and yet declines it. 
 They eat, being satisfied with modera- 
 tion ; perchance I want, or surfeit. 
 They sleep secure from fears and cares, 
 when I am kept awake with both. 
 They cry to Heaven, and are fed by Pro- 
 vidence ; I, trusting to myself, want 
 through my improvidence. The worth- 
 less sparrows are lodged in their downy 
 feathers j the silly sheep repose in their 
 warm fleeces ; but I have nothing to 
 cover my nakedness, nothing to hide my 
 shame ! Naked I was born into the 
 world, and have nothing in the world 
 which I may call mine own ; or if I 
 have, it is lost with the desire of having. 
 I look into it\y soul, and can find nothing 
 there but the absence of what I had, or 
 the defect of what I want. I pry into 
 my understanding, and there I find
 
 270 THE SINXER. 
 
 nothing but darkness ; I search into my 
 will, and there I find nothing but per- 
 verseness ; I examine my affections, and 
 there I find nothing but disorder; I view 
 my disposition, and there I find nothing 
 but distemper ; what I had I ha^ e not, 
 and what I want I cannot gain. If I 
 have obtained any thing that is good, I 
 quickly lose it for want of knowledge 
 how to prize it ; if I find any good 
 which I had lost, I keep it not, for want 
 of wisdom how to use it. When I call 
 my conscience to account, mine own 
 soul is bribed against me; and when I 
 call my course of life to question, my 
 frailties flatter me. If the sense of 
 misery should force me to m.y forgotten 
 |)rayers, I falter, and my distraction 
 denies me utterance ; or, if my hopeful 
 thoughts permit my formal lips to re- 
 commend my griefs to Heaven, my guilt 
 despairs of entrance ; or if a flash of 
 zeal should wing my prayers, and dart
 
 THE SINNER. 271 
 
 them up unto the Almighty's ears, my 
 unrepented sins forbid them audience. 
 Heaven's gates are locked against me, 
 and the keys are lost by my neglect ; 
 my sighs want strength to shoot the 
 lock, nor can my stronger groans en- 
 force the portals open. 
 
 Cheer up, my soul ; the keys are in 
 a faithful hand, nor is the Keeper far ; 
 call him, and thou shalt hear him say. 
 
 Ash, and thou shalt have ; seek, and 
 thou shalt find ; knock, and it shall be 
 opened to thee. Luke, xi. g. 
 Matth. \ ii. 11. 
 If you, being evil, know how to give 
 
 good things unto your children, how 
 
 much more shall your Father which is 
 
 in heaven, give good things unto them 
 
 that ask themf 
 
 Matth. xxi. 22. 
 All things whatsoever ye shall ast by 
 
 prayer i believing, ye shall receive.
 
 272 THE SINNER. 
 
 John, xi. 22. 
 But I hnoiv that even now whatsoever 
 thou wilt ask of God, God will give 
 it unto thee. 
 
 James, i. 5, 
 Jf any of you lack ivisdom, let him ask 
 it of God that giveth to all men libe- 
 rally, and upbraideth not, and it shall 
 he given him. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Canst thou, O my soul, wonder at 
 thy wants, when thou wantcst Him 
 that is the only supplier of all wants ? 
 The beast performs his duty, and (made 
 for thy service) serves thee ; and want- 
 ing food, in his own language craves it, 
 ^nd obtains it. The fowls of the air, 
 being pinched with hunger, carol forth 
 their sweet Plosannas, and are tilled, and 
 theif return musical Hallelujahs. Canst 
 thou, my soul, expect supplies like them, 
 ftod use less ineaijs than they ? Come^
 
 THE SINNER. 273 
 
 thou art worth many sparrows; were not 
 five sold for a farthing ? The blood of 
 Jesus is thy price, and for his sake all 
 things are thine. Shall beasts for their 
 own sakes be supplied, and shalt thou 
 in the name of Jesus be denied ? Can a 
 mother pity the trickling tears of her 
 unfed infant, and can the Goa of mercies 
 be obdure to thee? Art thou com- 
 manded to ask, seek, and knock in vain ? 
 Ay, but my tongue is slow ; was ' not 
 Moses, the man of God, so ? When I 
 seek, my lust diverts me, and I am lost. 
 Is not the great Shepherd come to re- 
 duce his lost sheep ? But, alas \ I knock 
 at the wrong door ; fear not when thou 
 knockest with a right heart ; He that is 
 every where will be found ; He that 
 made thee care, will hear thee. 
 
 His Pi^ayer. 
 
 O God, that art the perfection of all 
 good, and the giver of all good things, 
 
 T
 
 274 THE SINNER. 
 
 that better knowest what to give, than 
 I to ask, and withholdest no good 
 thing from him that seeks thee with an 
 upright heart I, a poor suitor at thy 
 throne of grace, being truly sensible 
 of mine own defects, and timorously 
 conscious of my evil deserts, do here 
 even cast myself on thy gracious pro- 
 vidence. And since, O Lord, thou hast 
 commanded me to ask of thee the things 
 I want, bow down thine ear, and hear 
 the prayers which a poor sinner, em- 
 boldened by thy promise, presents be- 
 fore thee ; by whose free favour I have 
 received whatsoever I have obtained, and 
 by mine own folly lost whatsoever I 
 have received. Give me a clear sight of 
 my own poverty ; shew me the poverty 
 of mine own relief, that so I may forsake 
 the broken reed of mine own power, 
 and strengthen my weakness in the 
 comfort of thy promise. Lord, thou 
 hast commanded me to ask, but my
 
 THE SINNER. 275 
 
 sins cry louder than my suits; thou 
 hast commanded me to seek, but my 
 own guilt leads me the wrong way ; 
 thou hast commanded me to knock, but 
 Satan holds my hands. Lord, let the 
 blood of my blessed Saviour stop the 
 mouth of my crying sins ; let his full 
 satisfaction take away my guilt. Bind 
 him in chains that captivates my power; 
 teach me to ask, that hast commanded 
 me to ask ; thou that hast commanded 
 me to seek, direct me, and let my 
 knocking be guided by thy hand ; give 
 me knowledge, that I may ask what I 
 should ; grant me prudence, that I may 
 seek where I should ; give me provi- 
 dence, that I may knock when I should. 
 Let not my faintness in asking teach 
 thee to deny ; let not my foolishness in 
 seeking tempt me to desist ; let not my 
 unseasonableness in knocking strike me 
 with despair. Give me a fervent faith, 
 that I may ask with confidence ; a 
 T 2
 
 27^ THE FAITHFUL MAN. 
 
 constant hope, that I may seek with 
 courage ; an unwearied patience, that I 
 may knock with constancy. Let me 
 ask, hke the importunate woman, till I 
 obtain thee ; let me seek, like thy blessed 
 Mother, till I find thee ; let me knock, 
 like the sinful publican, till thou open 
 to me ; that having found thee here by 
 grace in the company of saints, I may 
 live with thee in glory with the society 
 of angels. 
 
 THE FAITHFUL MAN, 
 
 His Fear, 
 
 Do this, and live : some comfort yet 
 remains ; though life be not absolutely 
 granted, yet death is but conditionally 
 threatened. Do this, and live. But what is
 
 TiE FAITHFUL MAN. 2jf 
 
 Aework that may deserve such wages ? 
 Give perfect obedience to thy God, and 
 perfect love to thy neighbour. But will 
 not the utmost of my power do ? will 
 not the best of my endeavour serve ? 
 No; He that is perfect made thee perfect, 
 and requires a perfection, Alas !/ if life 
 depend upon such terms, what flesh can 
 live ? Thy unability for the work, pro- 
 phesies the impossibility of the reward. 
 My soul, thou art become a legal debtor, 
 and the utmost farthing is expected : 
 thou canst neither pay the debt, nor 
 hide thee from thy creditor ; what wilt 
 thou do ? wilt thou plead immunity ? 
 thy own hand will condemn thee ; wilt 
 thou plead payment ? thy own poverty 
 will implead thee; wilt thou plead mercy? 
 thy own rebellion will dfsmay thee. My 
 soul, what security wilt thou put in } 
 or to what sanctuary wilt thou fly ? Oh, 
 flatter not thyself, and put not the evil 
 day from thee ! thou hast not only not 
 T 3
 
 2/8 THE FAITHFUL MAN* 
 
 done what thou shouldest, but thou hast 
 done what thou shouldest not. Thou 
 hast sinned against thy creation, bj dis- 
 obeying thy Creator ; thou hast sinned 
 against thy redemption, by crucifying 
 thy Redeemer; thou hast sinned against 
 thy sanctification, by quenching of the 
 spirit ; thou hast sinned against God's 
 judgments, by thy presumption ; thou 
 hast sinned against his mercies, by thy 
 despair ; thou hast sinned against thy 
 conscience, by thy rebelUon ; thou hast 
 sinned against Providence, by thy dis- 
 trust. Every day brings in an inventory 
 of thy sins, and every sin brings in a 
 faggot to thy execution. O my soul, 
 behold the misery of thy estate, and 
 tremble ; behold the mercies of thy God, 
 and wonder. Tremble, for he is a God 
 to punish thine iniquities ; wonder, for 
 he is become a man to bear thy iniquities; 
 tremble, for thou art not able to do his 
 commands ; wonder, for he is willing 
 to accept what thou canst do. Will not
 
 THE FAITHFUL MAN. 27Q 
 
 the frailty of thy flesh permit thee to 
 do ? let the faithfulness of thy heart in- 
 cline thee to desire. Do what thou canst, 
 and believe what thou canst not. 
 
 Cheer up, my sad soul ; for He that 
 hath considered the frailty of thy hands, 
 hath freely accepted the faithfulness of 
 thy heart ; who saith : 
 
 Be thou faithful unfo death, and twill 
 give thee the croivn of life. Rev. ii. 10. 
 
 Matth. XXV. 21. 
 IFell done, good and faithful servant^ 
 thou hast been faithful over a feiv 
 things, I will make thee rider over 
 many things ; enter into the joy of thy 
 Lord. 
 
 Gal. iii. 9. ^ 
 
 So then, they tlmt he of faith are blessed 
 zvith the faithful Abraham. 
 2 Tim. iv. 8. 
 Henceforth there is laid up for me a 
 crown of righteousness, which the 
 T 4
 
 280 THE FAITHFUL MAN. 
 
 Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give 
 me at that day. 
 
 James, i. 12. 
 Blessed is the man that endureth tempt- 
 ation, for when he is tried he shall 
 receive the croivn of life, which the 
 Lord hath promised to them that love 
 him. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Stand not, O my soul, upon the legs 
 of a sinner, but fly into the arms of thy 
 Saviour ; and what thou canst not pur- 
 chase by thy endeavour, endeavour to 
 believe: acknowledge thou thy debt, 
 andHhy Jesus will justify the payment ; 
 trust not in thyself, lest thou be de- 
 ceived by thyself. Dost thou, O my 
 soul, desire faith ? renounce thyself; 
 wouldst thou preserve thy faith ? con- 
 demn thyself: the way to faith is from 
 thyself. Is thy soul dark? faith en- 
 lightens it : is the gate of Heaven shut ?
 
 THE FAITHFUL MAN. 281 
 
 faith unlocks it : is that way dangerous? 
 faith secures it : is thj heart timorous ? 
 faith emboldens it : is death terrible ? 
 faith conquers it : is the crown of life 
 difficult ? faith obtains it. " Be thou 
 faithful unto death, and I will give thee 
 the crown of life." Fear not thy weak- 
 ness, O my soul ; it shall not be to thee 
 according to thy works, but faith : if 
 thy good works cannot save thee before 
 faith, then evil works* cannot damn 
 thee after repentance. As He that crowns 
 thy good works, crowns his ow^n gifts, 
 so He that pardons thy evil works, mag- 
 nifies his own mercy. Cast anchor here, 
 my soul ; and if the waves of thy cor- 
 ruptions overwhelm thee, pump them 
 out by true repentance. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 Most glorious God, in respect oi 
 whom the very angels are impure ; be- 
 
 * The Editor can, on no account, acquiesce ia the 
 doctrine contained in this sentence. R. Vs.
 
 282 THE FAITHFUL MAX. 
 
 fore whom the cherubims do veil their 
 blushing faces I, the wretched offspring 
 of presumptuous flesh and blood, fall 
 down before the footstool of thj gracious 
 presence, and humbly present thee with 
 my. sinful prayers. If thou shouldst 
 weigh my actions with thy righteous 
 balance, or try me with the touchstone 
 of thy sacred laws, the vials of thy 
 wrath would pour upon me, and thy 
 justice W'ould be magnified in my con- 
 fusion. But, Lord, thou delightest not 
 in the death of a sinner, nor takest 
 pleasure in the destruction of thy 
 creature. Lord, thy commandments 
 are most just, and my performance is 
 most imperfect; the best of all my 
 works deserve not the least of all thy 
 mercies ; and the purest of all my 
 actions, nay, my very prayers, are sin. 
 I have sinned against my creation, and 
 yet. Lord, thou hast redeemed me; 
 I have, sinned against my redemption.
 
 THE FAITHFUL MAN. 283 
 
 and yet, O God, thou hast in some 
 measure sanctified me ; I have sinned 
 against my sanctification, and yet, O 
 God, thou hast not forsaken me ; I 
 have sinned against the continuance of 
 thy mercies, yet hast thou not con- 
 founded me. The whole practice of my 
 Ufe is nothing but rebellion, and the 
 imaginations of my heart are evil, and 
 that continually: wherefore I wholly 
 renounce myself, O God, and utterly 
 disclaim the works of mine own hands. 
 In thy goodness, O Lord, I build my 
 confidence, and in thy mercy I seek for 
 refuge. Grant me the power to do 
 what thou commandest, and then com- 
 mand me what thou pleasest ; crucify 
 the flesh within me, and deliver my 
 soul from the spirit of bondage; free me, 
 O Lord, from the oldness of the letter, 
 that I may serve thee hereafter in the 
 newness of the spirit. Let the rebel- 
 lions of old Adam be lost in thy remem-
 
 284 THE FEARFUL MAX. 
 
 brance, and let the obedience of the 
 new Adam be ever in thy sight ; purge 
 from my heart the dregs of unbelief, 
 and kindle in my soul the fire of de- 
 votion ; quicken my spirit with a lively 
 faith. Lord, I believe : Lord, help my 
 unbelief; that so being faithful to the 
 death, according to thy command, I 
 may receive the crown of life according 
 to thy promise. 
 
 THE FEARFUL MA^. 
 
 His Conflict, 
 
 How potent are the infirmities of ilesh 
 and blood ! How weak is Nature's 
 strength ! How strong her weakness ! 
 How is my easy faith abused by my de- 
 ceitful sense I How is my understand-
 
 THE FEARFUL MAN. 285 
 
 ing blinded with deluding error ! How 
 is my will perverted with apparent good ! 
 If real good present itself, how purblind 
 is mine eye to view it ! if viewed, how 
 dull is my understanding to apprehend 
 it 1 if apprehended, how heartless is my 
 judgment to allow it ! if allowed, how 
 unwilling is my will to choose it ! if 
 chosen, how fickle are my resolutions to 
 retain it ! No sooner are my resolutions 
 fixed upon a course of grace, but nature 
 checks at my resolves ; no sooner 
 checked, but straight my will repents 
 her choice, my judgment recalls her 
 sentence, my understanding mistrusts 
 her light ; and then my sense calls flesh 
 and blood to counsel, which wants no 
 arguments to break me off. The diffi- 
 culty of the journey daunts me ; the 
 straitness of the gate dismays me ; the 
 doubt of the reward diverts me; the 
 loss of worldly pleasures here, deters me; 
 the loss of earthly honour there, disr
 
 286 THE FEARFUL MAN. 
 
 suades me; here the strictness of religion 
 damps me ; there the world's contempt 
 disheartens me ; here the fear of my 
 preferment discourages me. Thus is my 
 yielding sense assaulted with my con- 
 quering doubts ; thus are my militant 
 hopes made captive to my prevailing 
 fears ; whence, if happily ransomed by 
 some good motion, the devil presents 
 me with a bead-roll of my offences. The 
 fiesh. suggests the necessity of my sin, 
 the world objects the foulness of my 
 shame; where, if I plead the mercy 
 and goodness of my God, the abuse of 
 his mercy weakens my trust, the slight- 
 ing of his goodness hardens my heart 
 against my hopes. With what an host 
 of enemies art thou besieged, my soul ! 
 how art thou beleaguered with continual 
 fears ! how doth the guilt of thy un- 
 worthiness cry down the hopes of all 
 compassion ! Thy confidence of mercy 
 is conquered by the consciousness of thj
 
 THE FEARFUL MAX. 287 
 
 own demerits, and thou art taken pri- 
 soner, and bound in the horrid chains of 
 sad despair. 
 
 But cheer up, my soul, and turn thy 
 
 fears to wonder and thanksgiving ; trust 
 
 in Him that saith. 
 
 Fear not, little flocJi ; for it is your 
 
 Father s good pleasure to give you a 
 
 Mngdom. Luke, xii. 32. 
 Col. i. 13. 
 
 He hath delivered us from the power qf^ 
 darkness, and translated us into tlie 
 Mngdom of his dear Son, 
 Acts, xiv. 22. 
 
 Exhort them to continue in the faith, and 
 that tve must, through many tribula- 
 tions, enter into the Mngdom of God. 
 James, ii. 5. 
 
 Hath not God chosen the poor of this 
 world, that they should be rich in 
 faith, and heirs of the Mngdom which 
 /le promised to them that love Mm ^
 
 ?88 THE FEARFUL MAN. 
 
 Lnke, xxii. 29. 
 J appoint you a kingdom, as my Fatliei' 
 appointed to me. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 Hast thou crucified the Lord of Glory, 
 O mv soul, and hast thou so much bold- 
 ness to expect his kingdom ? Consult 
 with reason, and review thy merits ; 
 which done, behold that Jesus whom 
 thou crucifiedst, even making inter- 
 cession for thee, and offering thee a 
 crown of glory ! Behold the greatness 
 of thy Creator, veiled with the goodness 
 of thy Redeemer ; the justice of a first 
 person qualified by the mercy of a 
 second ; the purity of the divine nature 
 uniting itself with the human in one 
 Emmanuel ; a perfect man to suffer ; a 
 perfect God to pardon ; and both God 
 and man in one person, at the same 
 instant, able and willing to give, and
 
 THE FEARFUL MAN. 289 
 
 take, a perfect satisfaction for thee. O 
 my soul, a wonder above wonders ! an in- 
 comprehensibility above all admiration ! 
 a depth past all finding out ! Under 
 this shadow, O my soul, refresh thyself. 
 If thy sins fear the hand of justice, 
 behold thy sanctuary ; if thy offences 
 tremble before the Judge, behold thy 
 advocate ; if thy creditor threaten a 
 prison, behold thy bail ; behold the 
 Lamb of God that hath taken thy sins 
 from thee : behold the blessed of Heaven 
 and earth that hath prepared a kingdom 
 for thee. Be ravished, O my soul ! oh, 
 bless the name of Elohim ! oh, bless the 
 name of our Emmanuel, with praises 
 and eternal Hallelujahs ! ! 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 Great Shepherd of my soul ! whose 
 life was not too dear to rescue me, the 
 meanest of thy little flock, cast down 
 
 u
 
 290 THE FEARFUL MAN. 
 
 thy gracious eye upon the weakness of 
 my nature, and behold it in the strength 
 of thy compassion ; open mine eyes, 
 that I may see that object which flesh 
 cannot behold ; enlighten mine under- 
 standing, that I may clearly discern that 
 truth which my ignorance cannot ap- 
 prehend ; rectify my judgment, that I 
 may confidently resolve those doubts 
 which my understanding cannot deter- 
 mine ; sanctify my will, that I may 
 wisely choose that good which my de- 
 ceived heart cannot desire ; fortify my 
 resolution, that I may constantly em- 
 brace that choice which my inconstancy 
 cannot hold ; weaken the strength of 
 my corrupted nature, that I may strug- 
 gle with my lusts, and strive against the 
 base rebelUons of my flesh ; strengthen 
 the weakness of my dejected spirit, that 
 I may conquer myself, and still with- 
 stand the assaults of mine own corrup- 
 tion ; moderate my delight in the things
 
 THE FEARFUL MAN. 2QI 
 
 of this world, and keep my desires 
 within the hmits of thy will; let the 
 point of my thoughts be directed to 
 thee, and let my hopes rest in the as 
 snrance of thy favour ; let not the fear ot 
 worldly loss dismay me, nor let the loss 
 of the world's favour daunt me ; let my 
 joy in thee exceed all worldly grief, and 
 let the love of thee expel all carnal fear ; 
 let the multitudes of my offences be hid 
 in the multitude of thy compassions ; 
 and let the reproachfulness of that death 
 which thy Son suffered for my sake, 
 enable me to suffer all reproach for his 
 sake ; let not my sin against thy mercies 
 remove thy mercies from my sin ; and 
 let the necessity of my offences be 
 swallowed up in the all- sufficiency of 
 his merits ; let not the foulness of my 
 transgressions lead me to distrust ; nor 
 let the distrust of thy pardon leave me 
 in despair. Fix in my heart a filial love, 
 that I may love thee as a father ; and re^ 
 u 2
 
 292 THE PLAGUE- AFFRIGHTED MAN. 
 
 move all servile fear from me, that thou 
 mayest behold me as a son. Be thou 
 my all in all, and let me fear nothing 
 but to displease thee ; that being freed 
 from the fear of thy wrath, I may live 
 in the comfort of thy promise, die in 
 the fulness of thy favour, and rise to 
 the inheritance of an everlasting king- 
 dom. 
 
 THE PLAGUE- AFFRIGHTED MAX. 
 
 tlis Danger, 
 
 C5' 
 
 How is the language of death heard in 
 every street which, by continual passing- 
 bells, proclaims mortality in every ear ! 
 How many, at this instant, lie groaning 
 in their sick beds, and marked for death 
 'whilst others that lived yesterday are
 
 THE PLAGUE-AFFRlGHTED MAN* 2g3 
 
 now laid out for evening burial ! How 
 many that are now strong and healthful, 
 and laying up for many years, are des- 
 tined for the enlargement of the next 
 week's bill ! How many are now pre- 
 paring to secure their lives by flight, 
 who, whilst they run from the tyranny 
 of their fears, fly into the bosom of 
 danger ! What air what diet what 
 antidote, can promise safety ? What 
 shield can guard the angry angel's blow ? 
 What rhetoric can persuade the heaven- 
 commanded messenger to slake the fury 
 of his resolute arm ? It is an arrow 
 that flies by day ; yet who can see it ? 
 It is a terror that strikes by night ; and 
 who can escape it ? It is the pestilence 
 that walketh in darkness ; and who can 
 shun it ? The strength of youth is no 
 privilege against it ; the soundness of a 
 constitution is no exemption from it ; 
 the sovereignty of drugs cannot resist 
 it ; where it lists, it wounds ; and whom 
 u 3
 
 294 THE PLAGUE- AFFRIGHTED MAN. 
 
 it wounds, it kills. It is God's artillery, 
 and, like himself, respects no persons. 
 The rich man's coffers cannot bribe it ; 
 the skilful artist cannot prescribe against 
 it ; the black magician cannot charm it. 
 Mj soul, into what a calamity art thou 
 plunged ! with what an enemy art thou 
 beleaguered ! What opposition canst 
 thou make ? what auxiliaries canst thou 
 call in ? How many sad copies of thy 
 destruction are daily set before thee ? 
 how continually is thy death acted by 
 others to thee ? What comfort hast 
 tliou in that life which every minute 
 threatens ? what pleasure takest thou in 
 that breath which draws and whiffs per- 
 petual fears ? What art thou other but a 
 man condemned, expecting execution ? 
 and how is the bitterness of thy death 
 multiplied by the quality of thy fears ? 
 Were it a sickness, whose distraction 
 took not away thy means of preparation, 
 it were an easy calamity; were it a
 
 THE PLAGUE-AFFRIGHTED MAN. 295 
 
 sickness, whose contagion dissolved not 
 the comfortable bands of sweet society, 
 it were but half a misery ! But, as it 
 is, sudden, solitary, incurable what so 
 terrible ? what so comfortless ? 
 
 Sink not beneath thy fears, my soul; 
 thy deHverance is God's royalty, and 
 under his wings is thy salvation ; in the 
 midst of danger no danger shall befall 
 thee : 
 
 Neither shall the plague come nigh 
 thy dwelling. Psal. xci. lo. 
 
 Psal. xci. 1, 3, 4, 5. 
 PFhoso diueUeth in the secret of the Most 
 High, shall abide in the shadow of the 
 Almighty : surely he will deliver thee 
 from the snare of the hunter, and 
 from the noisome pestilence; he will 
 cover thee under his wings, and thou 
 shall he sure under his feathers : Ms 
 truth shall he thy shield and thy 
 hucMer. Thou shall not he afraid of 
 V 4
 
 595 THE PLAGUE-AFFRIGHTED MAK . 
 
 the arrow that flieth by day, nor of 
 the plague that destroy eth at noon-day, 
 A thousand shall fall at thy side, and 
 ten thousand at thy right hand, hut it 
 shall not come near thee. 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 And can the noise of death, O my 
 soul, so fright thee in the street, and 
 the cause of death not move thee in 
 thy bosom ? Shall passing-bells tolling 
 for dying men afflict thee, and not the 
 judgments of the living God affright thee ? 
 Shall the weekly bills of a silly parish - 
 clerk, more move thee than the sacred 
 oracles of a holy minister ? Shall the 
 plague, inflicted upon others, more 
 startle thee than many plagues denoun- 
 ced upon thyself <' Be w^ise, my soul : 
 avoid the cause, and thou shalt prevent 
 the effect ; be afraid of sin, and thou 
 needest not fear the puoishment. Fearest
 
 THE fLXGUE-AFFRIGHTED MAN. 2^J 
 
 thou the infection ? fly from it ; but 
 whither ? under the wings of the 
 Almighty : but thy sins deny protec- 
 tion there ? then nail them to thy 
 Saviour's cross. Fearest thou yet f O 
 my soul, hast thou so long, hast thou 
 so long subsisted under thine own pro- 
 tection, and darest thou not venture 
 under his ? Can there be a sanctuary 
 more secure ? a protection more safe ? 
 Fearest thou death under the wings of 
 the God of life ? or danger under the 
 shadow of the Almighty ? But the sud- 
 denness of that death denies preparation : 
 his wings continually prepare thee. It 
 banishes all thy friends, and in them thy 
 comfort. When thou hast God to thy 
 friend, what comfort canst thou want 
 that may not be found by prayer ? 
 
 Ills Prayer. 
 
 Lord, in whose hand are the keys of 
 life and death, in whom I live, move.
 
 2Q8 THE PLAGUE-AFFRIGHTED MA^. 
 
 and have my being graciously incline 
 thy tender ear, and mercifully hear the 
 supplications of thy servant, vrho hath 
 no hope but "in thy goodness, and no 
 comfort but in thy promises. My 
 heinous sins, O God, have provoked 
 thy heavy indignation, and I am humbly 
 sensible of thy sore displeasure. Thy 
 judgments are come abroad amongst us, 
 and the vials of thy consuming wrath 
 are poured out upon us. The sins 
 of our nation have cried to thee for 
 vengeance, and thou hast visited us with 
 great mortality ; thy people are poured 
 out like water, and our land has become 
 a land of mourning. Turn us, O Lord, 
 that we may be turned, and magnify 
 thy mercy in our deliverance : accept 
 the sorrow and contrition of thy servants, 
 and say unto thine angel. It is enough ! 
 Be thou my refuge and my fortress, O 
 God, and give me confidence to repose 
 under the shadow of the Almighty. 
 Cover me, O Lord, with the feathers of
 
 THE PLAGUE-AFFRIGHTED MAN. 2Q() 
 
 thy wings, and let thy truth be my 
 buckler and my shield. Defend me 
 from the pestilence that walketh in dark- 
 ness ; deliver me from destruction that 
 wasteth at noon- day. Give thy angels 
 charge over me, to protect and guide me 
 in all my ways. Prepare me, O Lord, 
 against the hour of death, and strengthen 
 my soul in the assurance of thy mercy : 
 humble mj heart with tlie true sense of 
 my transgressions, and work in my soul 
 an unfeigned repentance : enlarge mine 
 eyes, that I may weep day and night, 
 for grieving and offending so gracious a 
 Father. Wean me from the trust of all 
 transitory things, and let the w^orld's 
 vanity daily die in me. Take from me 
 the immoderate fear of death, and train 
 me, O God, for the day of my disso- 
 lution : instruct and rectify my vain de- 
 sires, that all my wishes may stand with 
 thy will. In life be thou my Governor, 
 in death, be thou my comfort; that
 
 300 THE PERSECUTED MAN. 
 
 living or dying I may be tliine. Teach 
 me by thy judgments to hate sin, and 
 let thy mercies breed in me a filial love: 
 be gracious to those whom thou hast 
 marked for death, and seal in their hearts 
 the assurance of thy favour, that, being 
 members of one body, we may rejoice 
 in one Head ; that, having numbered our 
 days in wisdom, we may be numbered 
 with thy saints in glory everlasting. 
 
 THE PERSECUTED MAN. 
 
 His Misery. 
 
 Are these the gains of godliness ? are 
 these the wages of a holy life ? Hath 
 the ungrateful world no other thanks 
 for him that honours his Creator, but 
 scorn, contempt, and persecution >
 
 THE PERSECUTED MAN. 301 
 
 Whilst I prized the world, I wanted 
 nothing that the world calls good ; neg- 
 lected honour followed me ; linsought- 
 for pleasure coveted me ; unpurchased 
 fortunes fell upo*n me : I could not wish 
 that happiness I had not ; I could not 
 want the happiness earth had : nothing 
 "was too dear ; nothing was too precious. 
 Thus, whilst I prized the world, the 
 world prized me : if I were sad, her 
 mirthful smiles would cheer me ; if sick, 
 her mournful sons would visit me ; if 
 weary, her \s anton lap would dandle 
 me ; where, rocked into a slumber, I 
 dreamed all this was but a dream ; and 
 waking, found- it so. Not willing to 
 be fed with shadows, I changed mj 
 thoughts, and my alTections altered; 
 and finding earth too strait for my 
 desires, I cast mine eye to Heaven, and 
 after many conflicts betwixt my mem- 
 bers and my mind, even there I fixed ! 
 The jealous Earth grew angry, frowned.
 
 302 THE PERSECUTED MAN. 
 
 and called me fool ; withdrew her ho- 
 nours, withheld her pleasures, recalled 
 her favours ; and now I live despised, 
 contemned, and poor. O sad condition 
 of mankind ! how plausible are his ways 
 to death ! and how unpleasant are his 
 paths to life ! No sooner had I made a 
 covenant with my God, but the world 
 made a covenant against me, scandalled 
 my name, slandered my actions, derided 
 my simplicity, and despised my inte- 
 grity. For my profession's sake I have 
 been reproached, and the reproaches of 
 the w^orld have fallen upon me : if I 
 chastened my soul with fasting, it styled 
 me with the name of hypocrite; if I 
 reproved the vanity of the times, it de- 
 rided me with the style of Puritan. 1/ 
 am become a stranger to my brethren, 
 and an alien to my mother's son ; I go 
 mourning all the day long, and my 
 bosom friends are estranged from me : 
 they afflict my body with open punish-
 
 THE PERSECUTED MAW. S6$ 
 
 ment, and make, a pastime of raj 
 affliction. They that sit in the gate, 
 speak evil of me, and drunkards make 
 their songs against me. 
 
 But be not thou dismayed, my soul ; 
 nor let the arm of flesh discourage thee: 
 thy persecutions here, are nothing but 
 the prophesies of a Paradise hereafter. 
 He that is born of the flesh, inherits the 
 pleasures of the world ; but thou, that 
 art born of the Spirit, hear what the 
 Spirit saith : 
 
 Blessed are they that are persecuted 
 for my name sake, for theirs is the king- 
 dom of Heaveyi. Matth, v. lo. 
 
 Luke, vi. 22. 
 Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, 
 and separate themselves from you, 
 and shall revile you, and cast out your 
 name as evil, for the Son of Mans 
 sake.
 
 4 THE PERSECUTED MAX. ^ 
 
 1 Pet. i|. 14. 
 If ye suffer for righteousness sake, happy 
 are ye, and he not afraid of their 
 terror, neither he ye trouhled. 
 Matth. X. 22. 
 Ye shall he hated of all men for my sake, 
 but he that shall endure unto the end 
 simll he saved. 
 
 Matth. xix. 2Q. 
 Every one that for salteth lands, or brother, 
 er sister, or father, or mother, for 
 my sake, shall receive an hundred 
 fold, and shall inherit eternal life. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 He that shall weigh the gain of god- 
 liness by the scales of the world, or the 
 pleasures of the earth by the balances of 
 the sanctuary, shall, upon a review, 
 find a bad market. Thinkest thou, my 
 soul, to be made happy by the smiles of
 
 THE PERSECUTED MAK. 305 
 
 earth? or uahappy by her frowns ? 
 When she fawns upon thee, she deludes 
 thee ; when she kisses thee, she betrays 
 thee. She brings thee butter in a lordly 
 dish, and bears a hammer in her deadly 
 hand. Trust not her flattery, O my 
 soul, nor let her malice move thee : her 
 music is thy magic ; her sweetness is 
 thy snare. She is the highway to eter- 
 nal death : if thou love her, thou hast 
 begun thy journey ; if thou honour her, 
 thou mendest thy pace; if thou obey 
 her, thou art at thy journey's end : 
 "when she distates thee, Christ relishes in 
 thee ; when she afflicts thee, God in- 
 structs thee ; when she locks her gates 
 against thee. Heaven opens for thee ; 
 when she v disdains thee, God honours 
 thee ; when she forsakes thee, he owns 
 thee; when she persecutes thee, he 
 crowns thee. Why art thou then dis- 
 quieted, my soul ? and why is thy spirit
 
 300 THE PERSECUTED MAN. 
 
 troubled within thee ? trust thou in 
 him by faith ; if thou want comfort, 
 fly to him by prayer. 
 
 His Prayer, 
 
 Thou, therefore, O most blessed and 
 glorious Spirit, in whose eyes the saints 
 are precious, who puttest all their tears 
 into thy bottle, and in the midst of all 
 their sorrows sendest comfort to thy 
 elect behold my sufferings, and regard 
 my sorrows ; let not thine enemies 
 triumph and make a scorn of him that 
 fears thee : strengthen me, O God, to 
 maintain thy cause, lest they that per- 
 secute me, think there is no God. Thou 
 knowest my reproach and shame, and 
 how they buffet me all the day long : 
 iarise; O God, and plead thy cause, and 
 let them know that thou art God. Make 
 me to hear the voice of joy and glad- 
 ness, that the bones which they have
 
 The PERSfiCUTED MAN. 307 
 
 broken may rejoice : let not the wicked 
 have power over msi but graciously de- 
 liver me for the glory of thy name : re- 
 move this bitter cup of affliction from 
 me : but not my will, but thine be done. 
 Give me patience to endure till thou art 
 pleased to release me, and courage to 
 bear what thy wisdom shall permit : let 
 not the vanities of the world deceive 
 me, nor the corruptions of my flesh 
 disturb me : let not the suggestions of 
 Satan deter me, nor the threatening of 
 man divert me. Preserve my footsteps 
 in the ways df thy truth, and keep me 
 truly constant to the end ; in all my 
 afflictions keep me from murmuring, and 
 let thy grace be sufficient for me. 
 Season my heart with the sense of thy 
 love, and strengthen my faith in all my 
 trials : give me an inward thankfulness, 
 O God, that thou hast made me worthy 
 to suffer for thy name. Convert my 
 enemies, if they belong to thee ; b^ 
 x2
 
 308 THE SINNER. 
 
 merciful to them that hate me, and do 
 good to those that persecute me ; open 
 their eyes, that they may see thy truth, 
 and turn their hearts, that they may 
 fear thy name. In all my tribulations 
 be not thou far from me, and sanctify 
 my great afflictions to me. Lord, in the 
 multitude of thy mercies, hear me, and 
 in the truth of thy salvation, help me; 
 that I, confessing thee here before the 
 children of men with undaunted reso- 
 lution, may be enrolled in the king- 
 dom of grace, by thy goodness, and 
 hereafter reign in the kingdom of glory, 
 in thy eternity. 
 
 THE SINNER. 
 
 ^ Ilis Account, 
 
 HeT^ I can flatter my own destruction, 
 Itnd with the common stream of frail 
 mortality run into the dead sea of ever-
 
 THE SINNER. 309 
 
 lasting death ! How soundly I can sleep 
 in the wanton lap of treacherous secu*- 
 ritj, until I wake, disarmed of all my 
 strength, and turn a prey to that false 
 Philistine that seeks my soul ! When I 
 call to mind the course that I have run, 
 and set to view the steps that I have 
 trod, how easily can 1 excuse my fail- 
 ings, and set them on the score of mise- 
 rable Adam ; but when I seriously con- 
 sider whose law I have offended, and 
 strictly examine my actions by that law, 
 and justly proportion my punishment to 
 those actions, oh, then I stand and 
 tremble, and am swallowed up with 
 despair ! oh, then my sins appear too 
 great for pardon, and my punishment 
 too great for patience ! Which way 
 soever I turn, I turn to my disquiet : 
 look where I will, I view my own dis- 
 comfort : look up, I see a dreadful God: 
 look down, I see a direful devil : look 
 forwards, I see a roll of sins : look back- 
 X S
 
 310 THE SINNER. 
 
 wards, I see a roaring conscience : look 
 on my right hand, I see my bold pre- 
 sumption : look on my left hand, I see 
 my base despair : look within m^, I see 
 nothing but corruption : look about me, 
 I see nothing but confusion. I have 
 sinned upon ignorance, ignorance will 
 not excuse me : I have sinned upon 
 weakness, weakness will not plead for 
 me: I have sinned against my conscience, 
 my conscience will accuse me : I have 
 sinned against the law, the law con- 
 demns me. What canst thou say, my 
 soul, that sentence of death should not 
 be given against thee ? Can the voice of 
 thy sorrow outcry the language of thy 
 sin ? Can the tears of thine eye scour the 
 stains of thy soul } Can the sighs of a 
 finite creature satisfy for the offences 
 against an infinite Creator ? Or, art 
 thou able to endure the punishments of 
 eternity ? He that made thee without 
 thee, will not save thee without thee ;
 
 THE SINNER. #11 
 
 and what canst thou do towards thy own 
 salvation ? 
 
 Prostrate thyself, my soul ; behold 
 thy misery, and bewail thyself; renounce 
 thyself; abhor thyself; fly to the horns 
 of the altar, and call for the promise of 
 mercy, in which thou mayst find com- 
 fort. 
 
 If the tvicleed shall turn from all his 
 sins that he hath committed, and Jceep 
 all my statutes, and do that ivhich is 
 lawful and right, he shall surely live, he 
 shall not die. Ezek. xviii. 21. 
 
 Acts, iii. IQ. 
 Repent ye therefore, and he converted, 
 that your sins may he blotted out, 
 when the times of refreshing shall 
 come from the presence of the Lord, 
 2 Pet. iii. 9. 
 The Lord is long sitffering totvards us, 
 not willing that any shoidd perish, 
 hut that all should come to repentance, 
 X 4
 
 313 THE SINNER. 
 
 Ezek. xxxiii. 11. 
 As I live, saitk the Lord, I have no 
 pleasure in the death qf the wicked, 
 but that the wicked turn front his tvay, 
 and live. Turn ye, turn ye, from 
 your evil ways, fbr why will ye die, 
 O house of Israel f 
 
 His Soliloquy, 
 
 An humble confidence is the mean 
 betwixt the two extremes, presumption 
 and despair : that usurps God's mercy 
 upon false grounds ; this excludes it, 
 and all means to it. The first takes 
 away the sense of sin, the last blocks 
 up the way to pardon. Take heed, O 
 my dejected soul ; plunge not thyself in 
 that sad gulf, lest (wanting bottom) 
 thou sink for ever : swim not without 
 bladders, lest thou tire. Having fastened 
 one eye upon the ugliness of thy sin, 
 fix the other upon the merits of a Sa- 
 
 4
 
 THE SINJfER. S13 
 
 viour; so when thou discoverest the 
 disease, thy disease will discover a re- 
 medy. When the fiery serpent has stung 
 thee, the brazen serpent must heal thee. 
 Nothing, O my soul, makes thy sin too 
 great for mercy, but despair ; this only 
 excludes repentance, and impenitence 
 alone makes thee incapable of pardon; 
 He that hath promised forgiveness at thy 
 repentance, hath not promised repent- 
 ance at thy pleasure. Haste, therefore, 
 O my soul, and reconcile thee to thy 
 God to-day. Jest it should prove too late 
 to-morrow. Turn thy hand from thy 
 present sin, and God will turn his eyes 
 from thy past sin : cry aloud, and spare 
 not, lest thy sin cry aloud, and he spare 
 not. Let thy confession find a tongue, 
 and his compassion will find an ear* 
 
 Hk Prayer, 
 
 O God, that art in thyself most glo- 
 rious, but in thy ^on most gracious;
 
 814 THE SINNER. 
 
 to the rebellious, terrible ; but to the 
 penitent, merciful I, the work of thine 
 own hands, but wholly disframed by 
 mine own corruptions, humbly prostrate 
 my sinful self before the footstool of thy 
 mercy-seat, totally miserable through 
 my sins, but truly penitent for my 
 offences. Lord, if thou shouldst pro- 
 ceed against me in thy justice, my por- 
 tion would be no less than eternal death; 
 but thy delight is rather to extend thy 
 mercy in the conversion of a soul, than 
 exercise thy justice in the confusion of 
 a sinner. Bow down, therefore, thy 
 gracious ear to a poor wretch that stands 
 trembhng before the bar of thy justice, 
 and ,from thence presumes to appeal to 
 the seat of thy mercy. I know, O God, 
 mine iniquities are greater than my 
 knowledge, but yet thy mercy is greater 
 than mine iniquities. I kno'sj;^, more- 
 over, that thou art most just, but in 
 shewing mercy thy justice will be no
 
 THE SINNER. 315 
 
 loser. Lord, I am miserable, therefore 
 a fit object for thy mercy ; Lord, I am 
 penitent, and therefore a proper subject 
 for thy pity; for I know thou art a 
 gracious God, of long sufferance, and 
 slow to anger, else had I now been roar- 
 ing under thy justice, that am here 
 suing for thy mercy. Lord, I acknow- 
 ledge my transgressions, and my sin is 
 ever before me ; the number of them is 
 innumerable, and the burden of them is 
 intolerable. I have sinned against a 
 just God, I have sinned against a gra- 
 cious Father; I therefore fly from thee as 
 a sharp revenger, and to thee as a sweet 
 redeemer. Remember not thy justice 
 towards a sinner, but think upon thy be- 
 nignity toward thy creature. Have re- 
 jspect to what thy Son hath done for me, 
 and forget what my sins have done 
 against me : wash my guiltiness in his 
 blood, and in the multitude of thy com- 
 passions behold the multitude of my
 
 Sl6 THE SINNER. 
 
 transgressions. Pardon what is past, 
 and arm me for the time to come ; that, 
 being purged from my sins, and cleansed 
 from my offences, I may be clothed 
 here with the robes of grace, and crown- 
 ed iiereafter with a crown of glory. 
 
 THE SINNER- 
 
 His Thirst. 
 
 Lo, I, that, like the prodigal, had once 
 the freedom of my father's table, could 
 now be satisfied with the crumbs be- 
 neath it : I, that could clothe me with 
 change of garments from my father's 
 wardrobe, could now be thankful but 
 for rags to hide my nakedness: I, 
 that forsook him like a disobedient son, 
 would hold it now a happiness to be his
 
 THE SINNER. Sl7 
 
 meanest servant. What shall I do ? or 
 whither shall I go ? By whose charity 
 shall I subsist ? My weakness will not 
 give me leave to work ; my unworthi- 
 ness will not suffer me to appear ; nor 
 have I friend to help me. I, that have 
 renounced my Father, have made my- 
 sdf no son ; and being no son, how 
 dare mv boldness call him father ? I 
 have offended him, and who shall re- 
 concile us ? I have grieved him, and 
 who shall make my peace? I have for- 
 saken him, and who shall restore me to 
 him r Can I expect a blessing from him 
 I have offended ? Can 1 presume of fa- 
 vour from him I have so grieved ? Can 
 I deserve a birth-right from him I have 
 forsaken ? O my soul, how, how hast 
 thou beslaved thyself, and lost that free- 
 dom, without the enjoyment whereof 
 thou art utterly lost ? Thou hast lost 
 that Father that was wont to bless thee; 
 thou hast left that Lord that was pleased
 
 318 THE SINNER. 
 
 to govern thee ; thou hast renounced 
 that Saviour that redeemed thee ; and 
 only hast reserved a God to punish thee, 
 a Judge to sentence thee : thou hast lost 
 those blessings bv thy contempt, which 
 thou canst not regain with the price of 
 thy tears: thou hast quenched that Spirit, 
 whereby thou hadstthe power to quench 
 the fiery darts of Satan : thou hast di- 
 yerted the current of that fountain, 
 whose water satisfied thy full desires. 
 O my sad soul, how, how wert thou 
 distempered, that couldst not relish that 
 which nourished angels into immor- 
 tality ! Why didst thou not inebriate 
 thyself with that delicious sw^eetness, 
 and ark it up like Israel's manna, to re- 
 main with thee and thy succeeding ge- 
 nerations ? Oh that mine eyes could 
 teach those blessed streams to run, w hich 
 my ungratefulness hath stopped ! or that 
 my prayers could, like Elijah's, unlock 
 the gates of Heaven, and bring down
 
 THE SINNER. 319 
 
 those celestial showers to slake my thirst! 
 that I may drink my fill of that immor- 
 tal water. 
 
 Take comfort, O my soul ! thy God 
 hath heard thy prayers, and crowned 
 them with this promise : 
 
 / ivill give to him that is athirst, of 
 the fountain of the water of life to drink 
 freely. Rev. xxi. 6. 
 
 Matt. V. 6. 
 Blessed are they that hunger and thirst 
 for righteousness sake, for they shall 
 be filled. 
 
 John, iv. 14. 
 But whosoever drinketh of this water 
 that I shall give him, shall never he 
 more athirst ; hut the water which I 
 shall give him, shall be in him a tvater 
 springing up into eternal life, 
 John, vii. 37. 
 If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
 and drmk ; he that believeth in me,
 
 320 THE smiTR-R. 
 
 out of his belli/ shall flow Hvers of 
 living wafer. 
 
 Rev. xxii. 17. 
 Let him that is athirsf, and whosoever 
 willy let him take the water of life 
 freely. it , ; 
 
 T- His Soliloquy. 
 
 -hmi . 
 
 It is less danger to want, than to be 
 insensible of thy wants. Dost thou 
 want, my soul ? desire : dost thou de- 
 sire ? ask : dost thou ask ? thou shalt 
 receive : and what thou shalt receive, 
 shall satisfy thee. Be not troubled : if 
 thy wants cast thee down, let thy de- 
 sires raise thee up. Shall thy natural 
 wants be confident of supply from thy 
 natural father, and shall thy spiritual de- 
 fects despair to be repaired by thy spi- 
 ritual Father ? How dost thou injure 
 Providence, O my distrustful soul ! 
 how dost thou wrong the God of mercy!
 
 THE SINNER. 321 
 
 how, slight the God of truth ! He that 
 hears the cry of ravens, and feeds them 
 with a gracious hand, will he be deaf to 
 theef He that robes the lilies of the 
 field, that neither sue nor care to be ap- 
 parelled, will he deny thee those graces 
 he hath commanded thee to ask ? Art 
 thou hungry ? he is the bread of life : 
 art thou thirsty ? he is the water of life: 
 art thou naked ? fly to him, and he will 
 give thee the righteousness of his own 
 Son. Build upon his promise, who is 
 truth itself; rely on his mercy, who is 
 goodness itself. Art thou a prodigal ? 
 yet remember thou art a son: is he 
 offended ? he will not forget he is a 
 father. Come, therefore, with a filial 
 boldness, and he will grant thy heart's 
 desire. 
 
 His Prayer 
 
 O God, that art the well-spring of 
 all gxace, and the fountain of all good-
 
 322 THE SINNEft. 
 
 ness, whose promises are faithful, and 
 whose word is truth, who hearest the 
 sighing of a contrite heart, and healest 
 the ruptures of an humble spirit I, 
 bere invited by thy mercies and thy 
 gracious commands, prostrate myself 
 before thee, and present unto thee the 
 sad petitions of a pensive breast. I have 
 sinned, O Lord ; I have sinned against 
 Heaven, and against thee, and am no 
 longer worthy to be called thy son. I 
 have cast off the yoke of my obedience, 
 I have broken the bands of thy covenant, 
 and cast them far from me; 1 have 
 feinned against thy mercies, and have 
 spurned against thy judgments ; thy 
 judgments have neither terrified, nor thy 
 mercies mollified me: but I acknowledge 
 my transgressions, and my sins are ever 
 before me. Remember not the frailties 
 of my youth, O God, nor the follies 
 of my elder days : remember not how 
 I 'hav)5 forgotten thee ; remember not
 
 THE SINNER* , 323 
 
 how I have forsaken thee. Close thou 
 thine eyes at my rebellion, and open 
 thine ears at my repentance ; be mer- 
 ciful, O God, at my contrition : a broken 
 heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. 
 Renew me according to the abundance 
 of thy mercies, and restore me to the 
 joy of thy salvation : establish my heart 
 in the love of thy truth, and increase in 
 me a spiritual thirst ; make me to un- 
 derstand the way of thy precepts, and 
 let thy testimonies be my whole delight. 
 As the hart panteth after the water- 
 brooks, so my soul longeth for the well- 
 springs of life. Lord, thou hast promised 
 to answer those that call unto thee, to 
 be found by those that seek unto thee, 
 and to satisfy those that thirst after thee 
 Make good thy word, O God, and 
 hear my prayer; make good thy promise. 
 Lord, and be not far from me. I have 
 6ought thee in thy promise, let me find 
 thee in thy performance ; I have thirsted 
 y 2
 
 324 THE GOOD MAN. 
 
 for thy grace, oh fill me with thy good- 
 ness 1 open thy well-springs, that I may 
 drink freely of the waters of life ; that, 
 my soul being satisfied in the fulness 
 of thy pleasures, my mouth may be 
 filled with the sound of thy praises ; that 
 here magnifying thy name in the king- 
 dom of grace, I may reign with thee 
 hereafter in the kingdom of glory. 
 
 THE GOOD MAN. 
 
 His Distiii9i, 
 
 When I consider the all-sufHciency of 
 my God, I dare not question the per- 
 formance of his promises ; but when I 
 behold the insufficiency of myself, I can- 
 not but fear the promises of his per- 
 formance. When I behold in him the 
 
 4
 
 THE GOOD MATf. 325 
 
 goodness of a father, my heart grows 
 confident, and I cannot fear ; but when 
 J find in myself the disobedience of a son, 
 my soul grows conscious, and I dare not 
 hope : when I dive into the depth of my 
 own misery, I search further, and find 
 a greater depth of his mercy, and am 
 secure ; but when I find the freeness of 
 his mercy requited with the wilfulness 
 of my rebellion, oh then my soul de- 
 spairs, and thus destroys the grounds of 
 all my comfort ! He invites my ladeiv 
 soul to come, and offers rest : alas ! I 
 come, and yet my laden soul can find 
 no ease. He promises eternal life to my 
 belief, but yet he gives me not the 
 power to believe : he bids me in his name 
 propound my wants, with promise of 
 supply ; and yet I sue, and sue, and still I 
 sue in vain : he promises a Comforter to 
 strengthen my remembrance^ yet still 
 my treacherous memory fails me : he 
 promises to be a father to the fatherless.
 
 326 THE GOOD MAN. 
 
 yet still my wants persuade me that I 
 want a father : he promises audience in 
 my time of trouble, and yet I call un- 
 heard, and mourn without redress : he 
 promises forgiveness to the true repent- 
 ant, but who shall give me power to 
 repent ? he promises to gather me in 
 mercy, though a while forsaken, yet I 
 have long expected, with a frustrate ex- 
 pectation : he promises an exaltation to 
 him that is humbled, yet my dejected 
 heart is still supprest : he promised free- 
 dom from the second death, to him that 
 conquers; I strive to overcome, yet feel a 
 hell : his promise was to guard his vine- 
 yard, and to dress it; yet foxes destroy it, 
 and the wild boar supplants it : he pro- 
 mised comfort to all those that mourn, 
 and yet I mourn without a comforter : 
 he promised .that the woman's seed 
 should break the serpent's head, and yet 
 the serpent never was more strong ; he 
 "bid me seek, and I should find; and yet.
 
 THE GOOD MAN. 32? 
 
 alas ! I seek, but can find nothing but my 
 wants : he calls them blessed that suffer 
 for his name; yet, who more miserable? 
 he promises the springs of life to him 
 that thirsts, and yet I thirst to death. My 
 soul, what are his promises to thee, that 
 art not able to perform those hard con- 
 ditions that give thee interest to those 
 promises ? 
 
 Cheer up, my soul, and what thou 
 canst not do, endeavour ; He that ac- 
 cepts the will for the deed, is in his pro- 
 mise " yea and amen." 
 
 Heaven and earth shall pass away, but 
 not one tittle of my word, Mark, xiii. 31, 
 
 1 Kings, viii. 56. 
 Blessed be the Lord, that hath given rest 
 unto his people, according unto all 
 that he hath promised. There hath 
 not Jailed one word of all his good 
 promises which he hath promised.
 
 328 THE GOOD MAX, 
 
 2 Kings, X. 10. 
 Know tlieji, that there shall fall to the 
 ground nothing of the word of the 
 Lord, 
 
 Psal. cxix. 89. 
 For every O Lord, thy word is settled in 
 . Heaven, 
 
 Isaiah, xlv. 23. 
 I have sivorji hy myself the ivord is gone 
 out of my mouth in righteousness, and 
 shall not return, 
 
 2 Cor. i. 20. 
 For all the promises of God in him are 
 yea, and in him, amen. 
 
 His Soliloquy. 
 
 Wilt thou never, O my distrustful 
 soul, submit thy will unto His will that 
 made thee ? Must his goodness be al- 
 ways the circumference of thy desires, 
 and thy pleasure still the centre ? Is it 
 not enough that Yea, and Amen, hath
 
 l-HE GOOD MAir. 520 
 
 |)romised the substance of thy happiness, 
 but must thou bind him to thy circum- 
 stances ? Shall the power of an infinite 
 Creator be confined to the pleasure of a 
 finite creature ? Stand not in thine own 
 light, my soul; the independence of 
 thy exorbitant desires shuts the door 
 upon that happiness thou desirest. Art 
 thou covetous of a blessing before thou 
 art qualified to receive it ? He that in- 
 tends thee a kingdom, will first make 
 thee capable of a kingdom t thou, that 
 shalt be a gainer by his favour, shalt be 
 ho loser by his delay. Canst thou hope 
 to be filled with the water of life, not 
 first purged with the fire of affliction ? 
 How often hast thou murmured for that> 
 which if enjoyed had been thy ruin? 
 God hath promised, but hath delayed 
 performance to exercise thy patience: 
 he hath decreed, but yet forbears, to 
 rectify thy faith. If faith be able to re- 
 move mountains, endeavour to remove 
 z
 
 330 THE GOOD MAN. 
 
 thy infidelity. Endure, hope, believe; 
 and He that comes will come, and will 
 not tarryfc O my soul, as nothing hin- 
 ders the performance of his promise, 
 but distrust, so nothing hastens the pro- 
 mise of his performance but thy prayer. 
 
 His Prayer. 
 
 O God, that art all-sufficient in thy- 
 self, all-gracious in thy Son, most ab- 
 solute in thy purposes, and most faith- 
 ful in thy promises I, the miserable 
 object of, thy mercy, here humbly pre- 
 sent myself before thee, the merciful 
 beholder of my misery. Lord, wherein 
 have I to trust but in thy mercies ? and 
 whereupon have I to build but on thy 
 promises ? Every sin is full of death, 
 and every action is full of sin, insomuch 
 that my whole life is nothing but a con- 
 tinu(^d rebellion against thee. But, O 
 my God, thy goodness is like thyself, 
 infinite ; and thy mercy is past my com-
 
 THE GOOD MAIf. 331 
 
 prehending. Thou knowest that I am 
 evil, and wholly evil, and that conti- 
 nually : thou knowest that I am*but dust 
 and ashes, and the very ofFspring of 
 corruption, and thy glory is no less 
 magnified in my confusion, than in my 
 salvation. But, Lord, thou art a gi^acious 
 God, and takest no pleasure in the death 
 of a distressed sinner. Thy mercy is 
 over all thy works, and thy goodness is 
 from generation to generation. AVhen 
 I was in open rebellion against thee, 
 thou reconciledst thyself to me ; when 
 I was utterly lost, thou redeemedst me 
 with the innocent blood of thy dear 
 Son ; and being redeemed, thou hast 
 sanctified me with the freeness of thy 
 Spirit. Thou hast raised me by thy 
 power, and strengthened me by thy 
 promises. What shall I return thee, O 
 my God, for thy innumerable mercies ? 
 or what kind of recompense can dust 
 and ashes make thee ? My tongue shall
 
 S32 rnt GOOD MAif* 
 
 sing the wonders of thj goodnesS, arid 
 praise thy name for ever and ever. Con-* 
 tinue, O Lord, thy mercies to me, and 
 visit me according to thy wonted kind- 
 ness : give me a wise heart, that 'f may 
 give respect unto all thy commandments, 
 and a full confidence in all thy promise^. 
 Quicken my hope in the expectation of 
 thy performance, and give me patience 
 till then to attend thy leisute. Lord, 
 where I cannot understand, oh teach me 
 to wonder ! and what I cannot do, give 
 me power to believe. Let not the ap- 
 parition of mine own corruptions plunge 
 me in despair, nor let the sense of thy 
 indulgent love give me occasion to pre- 
 sume; that, living here in the expectation 
 of thy truth, my hopes may be per* 
 fected to the glory of thy name* 
 
 tHE END. 
 
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