A Pious Man,

IS the only Ʋlysses that can passe by the Syrens of the Earth, and not be taken by them: the Strum­pet World, spreads forth her Dan­gling Tresses to insnare him, war­bles her most Ravishing Layes to Court him to her Embraces; but he like Sampson snaps his bonds in sunder, and all her Charming can [Page 38] never induce him to Dance afte [...] her Pipe. In the Glasse of h [...] Wisdome, he sees the Vanity o [...] the Delights of Lust; by it he perceives the Lillies which the La [...] vious fancy in their Minio [...] Cheeks, to be Lillies indeed, no [...] some and unsavory, therefore cha [...] he is, and under the Roses of h [...] Lips, are hid prickles, which the [...] lye in Garrison to defend the [...] from the Rude Assaults of Lus [...] His House is a little Church, h [...] Heart the Altar, whereon conti [...] ually flames a Holy and Religion Fire; Temptations may Assaile but not Conquer him, or if an [...] pleasure do take hold of him, it but to make him tast their bitt [...] sweetness, that so he may the mo [...] abhor them: He is above th [...] World, and being founded on th [...] Rock of his Salvation, he the [...] [Page 39] sits and laughs to see how the Am­bitious man puffs and sweats, to Climbe the craggy Mountain, Ho­nour, from which he often irreco­verably falls. He is a Pious Dove, not Gall enough in him to pro­voke an injury, his mind is a Sea alwayes calme, neither the adverse puffs of Fortune, nor the nipping blast of Malicious Tongues, can raise one wave, or make it swell into the least Intemperate Anger, Afflictions cannot dismay him, for he knows them to be the Correcti­ons of a Gracious Father, yea even at the Martyrs stake, like the pret­py Nightingale against a Thorn, he can sweetly chaunt forth Halle­lujahs to his God; and therefore needs not be smothered in a Cham­ber full of Roses, as a Tyrannous Emperour did his Servants, that they might meet with sweetnesse, [Page 40] even in the bitternesse of Death for he can find it in the middest o [...] the flames, which is to him but a bed of Roses; he hath often tug [...] g'd and wrastled with Satan, an [...] though the Divel may give him [...] half turn, or some little foiles, ye [...] yet he is alwayes fain to take th [...] fall himself; Nay sometimes h [...] will prevaile with God, and b [...] his fervent Prayer, disarme th [...] Almighty, as it were of his Thunder, and with his tears quench th [...] fire of his sparkling Anger; Hi [...] Virtues Crown him with a starry wreath of Glory, in which hi [...] Wealth, which others count thei [...] greatest Diamond, he Esteems hi [...] least spark, and if he rejoyce i [...] them, it is only that by possessin [...] them he is able to do good, an [...] sustaine the bruised Reed; Him selfe is a Pearle above all hi [...] [Page 41] Riches, for in Poverty he appears most Glorious, his Wealth at best is but the Guilded Casket, which incloses this Jewel, and the Shroud being gone, his Soul being open and uncovered, shines with grea­ter Glory and Luster: In all Con­ditions he is content, and so in Rags injoys a Kingdom, and will rather fit down with his poor Pit­tance, then make the Backs of the Poor, the Ladder to climbe to the Gawdy Seat of Wealth. He thinks every Man Good, because he is so Himself; chide him, if your re­proof be just, he will thank you; if unjust, his Innocence is his only Defence, and indeed an Impene­trable Armour, on which the Darts of Malice may Graze, but never Pierce: There is a Compo­sed Calmness in his Soul, the Ele­ments Warr not with one another, [Page 42] the Fire makes not the Water boyle, Choller justles not Mild­ness away; but all the Pegs being wound up to their just height, his Soul like a well tun'd Instrument, strikes an Harmony equall to that of the Sphears. He esteems a mo­derate State best, and therefore like the humble Briar, hath chosen a middle Station; not so low that Contempt can step upon him, nor so High, but that the Storms and Billows passe over his head. He is a Star of the first Magnitude; a Tree, which like those in the Hes­perian Garden bears Golden Ap­ples. A Nose-gay, wherein his Ver­tue's like so many pretty Flowers send forth a Fragrant Sweetnesse, and happy is she whose Bosome i [...] possest of so pleasing a Posy. He i [...] never in better Company then when he is alone, for then will [Page 43] his Soul commune with his God. He is knit unto his Friend by his Heart-strings, and nothing but the Sword of Death can dissolve the Gordian Knot. His life is a well Acted Comedy, which alwayes ends with a happy Exit. Death which to others seems so Grim to him, appears of a Smiling Coun­tenance, and that deadly Draught but a Spicy Cup. His good Name is a Pretious Ointment, a sweet Flower which shall Bud in Eterni­ties Garden, and ever be a fragrant Odour in the Nostrils of Posterity. Lastly, He is a Phaenix, it is rare to see two of his Kinde together, and out of his Funeral Ashes shall arise, young and glittering with the Beams of Immortality and Glory.

The Impious Man,

IS a strange Kinde of Monster [...] made up of Swine, Goat, an [...] Vulture. The Tavern is hi [...] Church, his Mistris the Golde [...] Calf, to which he dulier payes hi [...] Devotion, then to his Maker. Hi [...] Mouth is a Cannon, which he al­wayes keeps Charged with at Oath, and will out-goe any Can [...] noneer in the Celerity of Dis­charge. He loves Mirth as hi [...] life, and cares not if he Dance a Jig to Hell. He is a weak un [...] man'd Fort; no Vice, but at first Battery, makes a Breach into his Soul; if Satan does but present him with a Cherry from his Mi­stris's Lip, or an Apple of her eye [Page 45] he is as soon taken with the Beauty of them, as was Adam with his in Paradice, and never imagins it to be Forbidden Fruit, if he taste [...]hose Cherries in Lasciviousnesse. Before he could speak, he could speak Mischief; before he could goe, he could run in the wayes of [...]in. His Heart by its hardnesse, [...]hould be a Flint, and yet is none, for that hath Fire in it, but his not one sparke of Grace. Yet if God in his Mercy causes any Streams of Righteousness to slow out of him, [...]e renues his Miracles in the Wil­dernesse; and brings Water out of [...] Rock. He is a strange kinde of [...]oyle, in which though Vertues [...]eeds be sowne, will still bring up Wilde Oats, a Medly of Wicked­nesse, Pandoras Box was never fill'd with so many Evills. He has his Paradoxical custome to repair [Page 46] to, a Hot-house in the midst of Summer, [as if he would practise Hell here on Earth] and that no [...] to heat him, but quench hi [...] Flames; but alas it often prove [...] too hot for him, and he is Scorcht [...] and by a Hellish Fire too, and so comes home by Weeping Crosse He rises up early to Sin, and scorn [...] to be out-done by any man in mis­chief, and so takes pains to pur­chase Destruction, and large stride [...] to Hell. His Drunkennesse depriving him first of his rational Soul, makes him a Beast, and then of his Senses also, and so h [...] becomes a meer Stock, and ye [...] this man thinks himself in th [...] Right Way; but let him res [...] assured, that though we read o [...] the Good Thief who at last stol [...] into Heaven, yet never of any man that Stagger'd in thither; H [...] [Page 47] greedily feeds on the Fruits of sin, and is ravished with their false sweetness, although they are but Dainties drest by Hells Fire; He is made up of wiles, and whilst he smiles every dimple is a pit of destruction, and every Syllable he speaks a nooze to catch thee; he [...]s a slave to his Wealth, Satan detains him Prisoner in Golden Chains, and he is content with such Fetters, and had rather injoy the [...]ompany of an Angel in his poc­ [...]et, then in Heaven; but having [...]y extortion wrung an Estate out [...]f the very bowells of the Poor, [...]r by deceit increased his Store; [...]he Worme growes proud, and [...]alks as if his head were above the Clouds, or knockt at the Battle­ments of Heaven, and every man must strike saile to his pride, but whilst he deceives his poor Neigh­bour, [Page 48] at the same time Satan cheats him of his Soul. Thus in his prosperity he seems to have the heart of a Lyon, or out-rore the Thunder, but in misery that of a Child, like a bladder he swell [...] with the least puffe, and is down again with the least prick; and yet sometimes his passions so blind him, that the Wasp with an eage [...] fury will pursue an imaginary in­jury; his revenge must be writ in bloody Characters; but alas whereas by other sins he goes by degrees, by this he oftentimes from the place of Combate, make [...] but one leap into Hell; He is an uselesse drone, and spends the greatest part of his life in Glut­tony and Drunkennesse, in Gay­eties and empty Vanities, and i [...] may for fashion-sake, may send forth a few Prayers, and Ejacula­tions, [Page 49] but they also are lame and [...]aggy wing'd, and never reach to [...]eaven; Thus he regardlesse lets [...]is Glasse run, as if his time were [...] no value, whilest the Pious Man [...]y spending it virtuously, esteems [...]nd makes every grain of sand a [...]earle, and those very pleasures [...]e imagines to injoy here, are [...]oth vanishing and imperfect; In [...]e midst of his delights, his con­ [...]ience the bird in the breast, in­ [...]ead of a sweet Lullaby, sings him [...]small notes, interrupts his sleeps, [...]nd soure's his pleasures; This is [...]is portion here, and without Re­ [...]entance he will be hereafter a [...]ire-Brand of Hell, the object of [...]he Almighties Indignation, the [...]ceptacle of all those Torments which the wrath of Incensed Ma­ [...]sty, and Justice can Inflict.

The Good Woman,

IS a white Rock, that Repells a Shocks of Temptations, brea [...] those fiery waves, and turns the [...] into froath; And as the pret [...] Mary-Gold, will not turn it se [...] nor open its leaves, to any oth [...] Light, to any other Star, but on [...] the Sun; So this sweet flower [...] all but her Husband is shut and r [...] served; he is the Sun to who [...] alone she opens her leaves, and h [...] embraces; her arms are chai [...] strong enough to keep her Hu [...] band at home, and he is so tak [...] with that pleasing Captivity, th [...] when he considers how far t [...] Nectar of her kisses, surpasse h [...] sweetest wines, and the cherries [...] her lips the fruits of sin, they e [...] sily [Page 51] perswade him to forsake all [...]lewd society. Columbus never dis­covered such Mines of Treasure in the vast Universe, as are in this little World. She blushes at the hearing of an obscene Speech, as if her Cheeks hung out their red flaggs of defyance, to such a rude party.

She is commonly silent, or at least she will be but the treble in the consort, for low musick, and a soft tongue, make alwayes the sweetest Harmony; She is of an an humble spirit, and to all Cour­teous and Affable, the windy prai­ses of flatterers cannot puffe her into pride, for beauty she knows like the Glory of a Rain-bow, soon passes away, and that those eyes which they compare to the Sun, are out-shined by the dwindling Beams of a farthing Candle; If a [Page 52] storm arise in her Husbands breast as rain the winds, so one little shower of her tears will allay its blustering; her sighs will puffe out the fire of his anger; she opposes not his rising fury, but counts it the best Victory, if as the Scythi­ans she can conquer by retreating. Her Apparrel is decent, though not costly, she can be fair without patches, and if her own native beauty be not charming enough to purchase her a Consort, she thinks that none but fooles will be taken with such poor baits, for surely a good beauty, as well as good wine needs no Bush; She seldome fixes her eyes on any man, least some one be vanquished, by continually discharging her darts from those Chrystal Quivers; neither will she let those subtill spies to wander, for the roving arrow, as well as the [Page 53] directed shaft may chance to hit the mark; Her husbands afflictions she makes her own, and by a secret sympathy seems to partake of the same griefs; he is her head, no wonder then, if she be troubled when her head akes; She loves not to dally with the flames of lust, nor play with Cupids shaft, for she knows edge tooles are sharp, and may cut her fingers.

Tears are the Beads of her De­votion, and she wooes heaven so Nobly, and with such perseve­rance, that she will seldome let her God go without a blessing from him; She is up with the early Lark, and as that pretty Quirister when he first rises from his bed of Grasse, she sings some prayer or Ejaculation, and when her husband rises, it is like Phaebus full of blushes to see his Hesper, his [Page 54] Morning Star, so duly usher him to his taske.

She is a Casket full fraught with Rich Jewels; when Satan shewed our Saviour all the Glories of the World, this little World surely was the greatest Wonder, the greatest Temptation; The saying proves false in her, that there is no Fortresse so strong, but that an Asse laden with Gold may en­ter, for the English mens Angels can neither tempt her, nor their Crowns allure her, nor the French Pistols shoot her Chastity dead; She is the Crown of her Husbands joy, and it sweetens his Labour to think when his course is done, and his work at an end, he shall go and rest his wearied neck in his Theti [...] Lap; As her life is sweet, so whe [...] she dies, she expires like the Phae­nix all in spices, and leaves a per­fume behind her.

The Wicked Woman,

IS a Basiliske, for with her eyes she will look thee dead, and as Archimedes Glasses were said to burn Ships afar off, so her false Opticks often fire at a distance; At the first assaults of Lust, she blusht, and wept, and her eyes bewail'd the sad Conquests they had made, till her Lover came and wip'd away her tears, and whisper'd his false story in her eares, and she was charm'd, and was willing first to be drawn by the Cords of Vanity, and then she could run without drawing, and entice frail man to tast of her Forbidden Fruit; So by degrees she grew a proficient in Wickednesse, and at last she committed sin with [Page 56] greedinesse, and as of a Viper, al­wayes a Viper proceeds, so I use brought forth Murder, and thus as her face was tainted with a false fucus, so was her Soul with the blood of her Infant; She is a strange kind of fortresse, that not onely yields without resistance, but also sues to be taken; She will out-vie Cupps with men, but whilst she Carouses others healths, she drinks away her own; Her body is often faire to a wonder, but by her wicked deeds she seems to confirm the Opinion of the Moors, that there are white Devils; Her chiefest pleasure is to catch young Birds and Fishes; but whereas in others the chiefest of their Art is in the subtil concealing of their snares, she hopes to catch most, when she most discovers hers; Her Locks are the lines, her bar'd [Page 57] Breasts, the Baits wherewith she goes a Fishing, and hopes to catch some silly one with those Flesh-baits; sometime in a moment she catches her silly Prey; otherwhile like a cunning Angler, she lets the wanton Frie sport with the Bait, till they are taken in the Snare: Which having taken that which seems strangest, is that contrary to others, she only Strips them of their Skales, and so lets them goe; She is a strange kinde of Butcher that sells her own Flesh, and that for lesse then would buy a Calf; She is Loud and Stubborn, her Tongue is no sooner heard in the House, but like a Fatal Alarum Bell, it sets the whole Family in an Uproar; With a thousand Arts▪ she indeavours to Hide and Prop the defects of Time, and Nature, but who will not judg that which [Page 58] is so Be-patch't, a Ruinous Fabrick; She is a Salamander that lives in the Fire of Lust, an Ordinary open to all comers; She may well be cal­led the Weaker Vessel, he that relies upon her, Launches his Ho­nour in a Leaking Barke; She is surely an Athiest, for Pleasure is her God. Bride-well her Hell, and the Constable or Marshal, all the Devils she fears; Her Favour is more Fatal then her Malice, for that at most can but Kill thy Body, but her Smiles will perswade thee to destroy thy own Soul; the burnings of Granado's, is a gentle and Lambent Fire, to that of her Eyes; She perswades the silly Youth to turn his Land into Gold, till at last, she leaves him nothing but the Water of Repentance and Tears; Her Strength and Stomack seem beyond Belief, for she will [Page 59] swallow two Acres of Land for a Breakfast, and carries two more upon her Back; When she sayes she is your Servant, it is no Com­plement; She is a common Pud­dle, wherein every Stallion comes and Quenches his Thirst: Lastly, It is but a [...]ust Judgment of God upon her, that she who would live in a hot house here, should live Eternally in one hereafter.

Summer, OR YOUTH.

THe Sun and thou are climbing towards the Meridian; The [Page 68] Birds by this time have chosen themselves Mates, & this being the greatest Act to felicity in this life; I can find no Nobler Example to fol­low then the Dove, that Emblem of innocent Love, looks not to the Richnesse and Gayety of her mates feathers, but to the sweet com­posure of its limbs, and the char­ming effects of his sweeter nature for him she will reject the gaudy Peacock; These two harmless one [...] will sweetly sit and bill, whilst the ravinous Vulture is engaged i [...] wounds and quarrells; take hee [...] least being too covetous, thou sel­lest thy content for a little drosse [...] and it may be to one who may prodigally spend it; chuse but [...] pious and loving Consort, and b [...] assured thou hast a Pearle worth the Worlds Treasure; And no [...] being joyned in Hymens bonds [Page 69] let the twining Vine teach thee, how indissolvable the Marri [...]e Knot is, for it will sooner suffer its arm to be rent off, then [...] be se­parated from the strikt Embrace of its Beloved Elm; So must thou [...]eave all for thy Spouse, let nei­ther the Iron teeth of time, or ne­cessity be able to dissolve that knot; But methinks, I see thee with ad­miration gaze on the great ones of the World, and sighest at thy own lesse Glorious Condition, but grieve not because thou art none of those Loftier Cedars; true, thou [...]rt low, but the lesse subject to [...]torms and Thunder, the high Mountain is barren, tis the low Val­ [...]ey, and Humble Heart, that brings [...]oorth the best Fruit; And yet I [...]ould have thy Contemplations [...]are to Heaven; The Lark builds [...]er Nest on the ground, yet when [Page 70] she sings, she Towers above the Clouds, as if she disdained Earth; Earth is unworthy the Larks Har­mony and thy thoughts, thou wilt not need the wings of a Dove, on the wings of Contemplation, thou wilt out-strip the Lark, and sooner reach Heaven; But let Heaven be the object of thy Meditations, which surpasses the Earth as much in Excellency, as in immensity [...] Earth hath Flowers for its pave­ment, and Heaven Stars, or rather those Stars are the knotty ends o [...] Heavens Tapistry; Ah! how Glo­rious then must those Mansions be whose superficies is so beautifull [...] but all this cannot perswade thee to forsake thy darling World, thy wedges of Gold fasten thee to it, the arms and tresses of Laciviou [...] Strumpets enchain thee, and thou unmindful of Heaven, carried on [Page 71] with thy Youthful heat, swimmest in a Sea of pleasure; this Stage of thy life seems delightfull to thee, strewed with Perfumes and Flow­ers, and thy Glass fill'd with Gol­den Sands, and thou with the Ma­rigold, in pride advancest thy glit­tering Crown, but poor blossome, whence springs this vain pride, is [...]it from thy Beauty? Alas, that will soon fade, and no Rose will sooner wither then that in thy Cheeks; or from thy prosperous Felicities? But how many sorrows meet each minute to interrupt them, which may soon turn thy quiet calm into a storm? Or is it from thy Valour, and frequent Vi­ctories ore thy Foes? Oh! that were better turned against thy self, and thou shalt obtain more Glory by subduing thy self, the little World, then by being Conque­rour [Page 72] of the great One; Have a care that neither Prosperities, not delight sooth thee into a security; How often is the pretty Nightin-Gale, even whilst she sits, and Carolls foorth her sweet Layes, kill'd by the Archer; And we see many in the midst of their jollity, carried aloft on the wings of plea­sure, shot by Death, and tumble from the height of their mirth in­to the grave; Oh! forsake the World, and all her empty delights, suck no longer her false breasts, her milk is but sugar'd poison, thou art now a man, and at these years, it is time for thee to be wained.

AUTUMN, OR Manhood

GOne are thy Mirthsome days, thy Summer is done, till now thou wert a young Sprig, and the sweet Breath Zephyr onely wanton'd with thy tender Leaves, thou hast danc't out thy Youth in Loves and Pleasures, but now it [Page 74] is time for thee to bear Fruit; thou mayest trifle away no more hours, but as thy Years, so let thy Faith increase; indeavour that the Seeds of it may take firme Root in thy Soul; intreat the Sun of Righte­ousnesse to shine on it, omitt not sometimes to water it with a few Repentant Tears, and no doubt it will Prosper; And do not think to purchase Heaven by sitting still; how doth the little Emmet toil be­fore she possesses her store; the Hus­bandman purchases his encrease with the sweat of his Brows; Hea­ven like the Hesperian Garden is guarded by a watchfull Dragon, and no coming to the golden Fruit, nor entring this Paradise, till thou hast Vanquished him: The Sheep yield their Silver Fleece to their Carefull Pastor; The Springs and Rivers pay their Tribute to the [Page 75] Sea; and wilt thou return no Fruit? either be barren or bear evil Fruit; Oh no! thou art now grown a goodly tree, thy boughs are exten­ded to Heaven, and canst now not only be good thy self? but do good unto others; Oh let the parched Rose, the Sun-burnt Traveller, enjoy the comfort of thy shade; Let the Mate-deprived Dove, the Mournfull Widdow pearch under thy Roofe; Untwist no [...] the weak Wreathing Jvy from thy Armes, but support the Poor and Needy; but perhaps thou thy self art Poor and Thirsty; and seest the Joyful swain Feast on the Fruits of his Happy Labour; O do thou but ask of thy Saviour, and he will give thee of the Fountains of ever Living Waters, Co [...]stial Manna, and the Bread of Life to satisfie thy Hunger; but some say the Meat is [Page 76] sweetest that is nearest the Bone, and so thou mayest desire one: Well then, take a Deaths Head, for out of it, a Pious Man will pick Heavenly Food. Oh here is a Feast indeed! that great Shepheard will not let his Sheep to want; for he hath promised they shall feed among the green and fat Pastures, and that he will lead them to the cooling Streams; from him thou receivest all that thou hast, 'tis he Communicates all those Blessings, all those Beauties and Graces thou Enjoyest; It is the Sun beams that Damask the Apples Cheeks, and it is the Sun of Righteousnesse that makes thy Soul blush for its Sins; White and Red are the Com­pounds of an Earthly Beauty, and White and Red Innocence, and Pious shamfac'dness, are the chief­est of the souls perfections. Christs [Page 77] Beloved Spouse was White and Ruddy, thou of thy self art Poore and Naked, if he do not Enrich thee; But thy Autumn is done, the trees begin to shed their leaves, and thou thy hairs; and now thou beginst by piece meale to fall into the Grave; thou hast but one strain more to the top of thy Life, and that a Rotten one too; Age that subtile Thief steals swiftly on thee; Learn therefore willingly to sub­mitt thy spirit into thy Saviours hands, like the Corne, to fall and Kiss the Feet of him that cuts thee off, canst thou Murmur at him that doth but fell the tree to transplant it into a better soile; but above all things be prepared for thy end, that when thy houre comes, thou mayest fall like Fruit, full ripe for Heaven.

WINTER, OR Old Age.

THat Season is come that co­vers the ground and thy Head with Snow; the Lil­lyes have lost their Milky hue; the Trees have nothing to hide their naked Armes; the Springs are Congealed, their Waves no more wanton with the Shoare, nor thy [Page 79] Blood in thy Veins. See World­lings, see; What is bocome of the Idoll thou so much Adorest? Where are all those charming Beauties which shin'd in thy Face? that Face which some have called a little Heaven, wherein thy Eyes like two Suns Displai'd their Beams; but now alas thy Heaven is Clou­ded, thy Suns are eternally Ecclip'd, and nothing remains of thy beau­tiful Fabrick, but the gastly Ruines, so Fraile is Serene Beauty; thy Life at longest was but a Span, but how short a space of that span hast thou to Live? Old Wood soon Blazes out, soon will thy shorten­ed Tapour sink into its Urne; now or never is the time for thee to be Fruitfull; if thou prodigally wa­stest this thy last inch of thy Ta­pour, thou art irrecoverably lost; The Lillie Withers, but with the [Page 80] next Spring wil appear in a fresher beauty; but if thy Sun set in a Cloud, it will never more arise. See, see the Heavens weep for thee, and seem to shew thee thy duty, the violent blasts that Boreas sends from his swollen Cheeks, intimate that thy sighs should be fervent; Its distilling in plentifull showers, that those eyes which in thy youth were Lustfull flames, should now be trickling Fountains; Oh! quench those Flames with Penitent Tears; hast thou mispent thy time, yet dispaire not, if thou wilt return, there is mercy for thee; those tears are pearls of vallue enough to re­deem thy time? What if time have Furrowed thy Face; Plow­ed Land the better bears Fruit; but methinks I hear thee say, What must Trees bear Fruit in Winter? Oh yes! Man is a Tree must bear [Page 81] in all the Seasons, especially in the Winter of his Age, and shall ei­ther for being fruitful be trans­planted into Heavens Garden, there eternally to flourish, or else for his Barrennesse, be hewen down for the Devils Fire; But alas! thy heart is colder then the Season, the curled stream is [...]ockt up in Ribs of ice, and that [...]s frozen; Oh! beg of the Sun of Righteousnesse to shine on it, and [...]e will dissolve thy Icy heart, and make it flow into streams of Righ­teousnesse; Time hath silver'd thy [...]aire, do thou silver thy time; and [...]hough in thy Youth, like the sil­ver Swan, thou wert a stranger to Harmony, yet at the last thou must [...]ither like her sing melodiously, or [...]owle in Hell for ever; Summon [...]ogether all thy strength, all that [...]hou hast of pious in thee, that [Page 82] thou mayest expire like the dying Tapour in a Glorious Blaze; Oh let the sweetest be at the bottome, if the sand of thy Youths-Glasse were of Gold, that of thy old age is powder of Rubies, every grain [...] of it is worth a Universe, and doe [...] thou so slightly value this Inesti­mable Jewel; Is this a time fo [...] thee to dance lustful measures when every minute thou maye [...] dance into thy Grave? when lik [...] an aged tree, with every wind tho [...] totterest, when every sickness [...] shakes thy very heart-strings, tak [...] heed for if Death catch thee dan­cing; the flying bird is the faires [...] mark, and that black Archer wi [...] not neglect his advantage, and [...] thou mayest caper into Hell.

1.

HEnry the fifth King of England, in his Younger years was a most Dissolute Prince, addicted to Robberies, and many other lewd Practises, which made the world guesse by these pretty Tyrannies, those High ones, he would after­wards commit; But this Crooked Twig, prov'd as Goodly an Oake, as ever grew in Brittains Forrest, For when he came to be King, he [...]orsook both them, and all those of [Page 84] his Companions that would not turn over a new leaf with him.

I have spent the best part of my Youth in pleasures, Oh! that I could now with this good King, devote the rest of my dayes, unto the service of my God; When I was a Child, I did like a Child, but now I am a Man, I will do like a Man; then I was Ignorant, but now I have reason to Consider, that all things here below are Vanity [...] Therefore will I leave off my Drunkennesse, to tast of the Foun­tains of ever Living Waters, in comparison of which, the best o [...] Wines, are as the bitter waters o [...] Marah; I will forsake my Glut­tony to tast of the Bread of Life; My Christ shall be my Riches, will contemn the Worlds Deli­lahs, that I may enjoy him for my Spouse; is there any beauty in [Page 85] them? Oh! but he is more lovely, the choicest often thousand; The fairest earthly Beauties, in compa­rison of Him, are but blear-eyed Leahs; tis he only is the lovely Rachel, that deserves our seaven Years, yea all our lifes Service.

2

THe Fabulous Poets report of Ixion, that in his Lustful heat, thinking to embrace an armfull of pleasure, in the enjoyment of fair Juno, was deceived, and found it but a mist.

Thus foolish man pursues, fleet­ing delights for realities, and per­swades his heart that he shall long enjoy them; He grasps the mist in his armes, but alas, he will find that their glittering gayeties will disappear; His shining Taper will out in a snuffe, his pleasing dream will pass away, his Syrens Song [Page 86] will end, his Juno, his Darling plea­sure will vanish into smoak, and prove at last sowre like the Grapes of Sodom, or like those Apples which are said to turn into ashes if but touched; so will they, and we shall have nothing left of them, but their Cinders to increase out Torments in Hell.

3.

CAesar after his Victories, and Glo­rious Triumphs, was murdered in the Senate-House; Herod in the midst of his Glory, eaten up by Worms; Swedelands Mirrour cut off by Death, in the strength of his Years.

Alas! what a vain thing is man a meer bubble, a walking shaddow, one blow cuts his thred in twain, one little bullet stops his breath, one sicknesse pulls him into his Grave; it is most certain, that we [Page 87] shall all take up our Lodging in Deaths darke Retiring-room, the Grave; but nothing more uncer­ [...]ain then the time, when? Oh! that we could therefore be always [...]bout that taske which we have here to doe, like the Heliotropium, still turning towards our sun, Our Sun of Righteousnesse: Thus if we live whereas the Waftage of the Wicked out of this world, is Stor­my and Tempestuous, and are rou­ [...]ed by the Horrours of never dy­ [...]ng Torments; our shall be calm and gentle: Our Deaths will prove but a short sleep, and when we a­wake, we shall finde our selves in Abrahams bosome, incompassed with incomparable Felicities.

4.

MEn whilest they are in this World, do but play the Indu­strious Bee, always buzzing about, [Page 88] seeking some Flower, some occa­sion by which they may encrease their Stock: their chiefest Garden is the Exchange, to which they in Numbers resort, there it is they meet with most bargains, and from thence with loaded thighs they fly unto their Hives or Houses.

Thus should the Life of every Christian be, could we be but as wise for Heaven as we are for the World; with the Emmet, carry but one grain of corn, do but one Pious deed a day; this day draw a line of Christian Charity, that of Obedience, and another day of Hu­mility, we should soon draw the whole Image of our saviour in our souls; and at the years end, finde our spiritual treasure encreased to a massy heap. Heavens Exchange-Royal is the Church, for there we may hear glad tidings of our Coe­lestial [Page 89] affairs; there we shall be sure to meet with good bargains; it is there only that the Exchange never falls, but is always at a high Rate: for a few odd pence be­stowed in Alms, we shall receive innumerable Treasures; for a few trickling penitent Tears, Inestima­ble Jewels; and for a few old rags given to the needy, the Cloathing of a Glorious Immor­tality.

5.

ZEuxis a Famous Painter, Pour­traying a Vine and a Man by it on the same Tablet, the Grapes were so exquisitely drawn, that the de­ceived Birds flew and peckt them; yet by this we may see, that though Art may Imitate, yet it is farr short of Nature; for had he drawn the Man so well to the Life, they would have been more afraid of [Page 90] him, then allured by the Grapes; Art may Pourtray a Rose of a fresh Carnation, but compare its Beau­ty to a reall one, of how faint a die it will seem to the others native Crimson.

And yet how many have we in this age who daube over the works of Nature, and think to borrow a Beauty from a few colours: but poor souls, do they think to mend Gods work? hath thy God com­manded thee, Not to make unto thy self any Graven Image, or the like­nesse of any thing, and doest thou make one of thy self? could you but see how like unskillfull Painters, you marr what you would mend. Tis Satan presents you with a false mirrour, wherein that seems faire, which indeed is deformity it self; did you but see your selves in Vertues Glasse; you [Page 91] would confesse that a Moore with his Darke-lanthorn face, is a farr more Reall and Lovely Beauty then yours: Christs Spouse went not thus disguis'd, he will never know you with such a v [...]zzard on, neither shall those have any share in his Victory, who wear and serve under the Devils Colours.

6.

SInon was a Crafty Grecian, most expert in the Art of dissembling: This Sinon by his Deceit, and Feign'd tears perswaded the Cre­dulous Trojans to draw in the Wooden Horse, and with it their Ruine.

Every Fair shew must not be trusted, for Cain could friendly parley with his Brother, and slay him; And Judas come with a Haile Master in his mouth, and be­tray his Lord: Man busies himself [Page 92] to invent mischief, and with dis­simulation covers his snares; His heart is crooked and full of guile, a forge of iniquity, a mint where­in lies are coyn'd to deceive the Innocent; He sings thee asleep, as Mercury did Argus, that he may slay thee; In the one hand he car­ries a Rose, wherewith smiling in your face, he pleasingly tickles your nose; in the other a Dagger to stab thee to the heart: In thee therefore Oh my God will I put my Confidence, for Just and True are thy wayes, and all thy paths are Righteous.

7.

IT is said of Demosthenes, that be­ing to deliver an Oration to the People in the Market-Place, he had very few Auditors, whereup­on he whooping, whistling, and acting the Fool, the People prest [Page 93] in great numbers to see him, when he rebuking their folly, got them by this device to stay and hear his Eloquent Oration.

And alas! how thin are our Churches now a dayes? How few come to hear Gods divine Ora­tours, and were every one to give a shilling or two in Alms when they come to Church, as they do to see a Stage-play, I fear our Tem­ples would have fewer Auditors then they have; whereas at a Co­medy, the thronged Theaters al­most crack with numbers. Thus can we lay out our money, for that which is not Bread; and mens perverse hearts are so stubborne, that scarce any persuasions can prevaile to draw them from this folly: Fools thus to dispise Coele­stial Manna, for dirty crums, and the sacred word of a God, for a [Page 94] few humane inventions.

8.

THersites was of such a currish disposition, that he was always barking at those who had done him no injury; he could not see Ʋlysses, but he must term him Coward; no [...] Menelaus, but he must beat him with his broken Ribb, with his Wives dishonour.

Just thus have I seen some sit snarling all the day at others; they whet their Tongues to pierce the sides of the Innocent: they cannot see a man passe by without casting some of their filth upon him; but give me, Oh my God, a quiet Con­science! the best Antidote against their poison, then shall I injoy a continual Feast within me, al­though their Malice seek the de­sturbance of my Peace; and at length, their Calumnies shall re­turn [Page 95] upon their own heads; That pitch wherewith they intended to blurr my Innocency, shall stick upon their own fingers; then shall I Triumph in my Innocency, but they be ashamed of their hatred and folly.

9.

WE read, that Aesops Cock find­ing a Pearle, contemned it for one Barley Corn: Christ is our Pre­tious Pearle; but alas! how many reject him for a little worldly gain? How many will sell their Saviour for a lesse price then did Judas? but oh my God! grant that I may in­deavour, yea give all I have to purchase this Pearle, then shall I prove a happy Merchant; for none but those who have this Pearle shining in their Bosomes, can enter Heaven. That is the Sacred Badge by which St. Peter knows who he [Page 96] is to let enter those Everlasting Gates. Let Worldling scrape this Dunghill World, but I, when I have got this Pearle, my Christ, have attained such riches, to which theirs is but Drosse and Dung.

10.

DIogenes was a man so much des­pising Riches, y ^t being proferd great Wealth by Alexander, he bid him stand out of the Sun-shine, as being a comfort, that all his Riches could not bring him; He chose a Tub for his Pallace, a Wooden dish was all his Houshold-stuffe, and Water and Herbs his chiefest Sustenance: Though some may take this for a Tale of a Tub; yet surely it is a great example of a Generous and Moderate life, which without doubt was full of a perfect Tranquility. His minde was calm, not like the Merchants tossed [Page 97] with every Wind more then his Ship, nor alarum'd with Thieves seeing he had nothing but his Wooden dish to loose; and Chri­stians may be ashamed to be so farr out-gone by a Heathen in Morral Vertue: but yet we finde this Dio­genes, whose diet was so spare to desire the unchaste embraces of a Lais; Ah! how then doth the Pampring of our bodyes now a dayes put oyle to the flame, and increase our natural lustful desires; [...]t is a worthy sentence of Hesiod, that half is better then the whole; one dish will serve nature better then ten, for with our many Cour­ses, we course away our Health; though Bread and Water be all my Food, as long as the Sun of Righ­teousnesse shines on me, I will not envy Sardanapalus all his daints of the Sea and Land.

1.

UNmatchable was the strength of Sampson, yet could he not­withstand the charming allure­ments of Delilah; but by her trea­chery, his so admired strength was brought to nought.

[Page 99]How carefull therefore ought we to be, to eschew the company of these subtill charmers, to stop our ears to these Syrens Harmony: doth their pleasing Warbling Ra­vish thee? Oh! consider their Lustfull Layes will lull thee a sleep to thy ruine: Doest thou admire them for their Lilly hands? Know that therewith they will lead thee to all uncleannesse: Perhaps their Golden Locks may ensnare thee, but be assured, that every curle is a chain to hold thee to thy sin: Or if their twinkling eyes have bewitch­ed thee, consider them as false Lights, as the fatall Funeral piles of thy honour and chastity; thy Saviour had not whereon to lean his Head, and wilt thou rest on a downy Bed with thy lewd Minion: Oh no! but reject these Delilah's, since they like Sylla and Charybdys, [Page 100] miserably Shipwrack all those that approach them.

2.

NAaman Captain of the Host of Assyria was a Leaper, who was Cured by Elisha, by being dipt sea­ven times in the River Jordan.

Most Leaprous is my soul, wash it therefore, Oh my Saviour! in the Jordan of thy blood; but are not Abana and Pharphar Rivers of Da­mascus, better then the Streams that flow from thee? Oh no! they may wash the filth from our bo­dies, but never from our souls. Tis only the Rivolet of thy blood can make us perfectly clean: Oh! be thou my Jesus, or the Physitian to my sick soul, and heal me; and for my Cure, I will not return thee money, or coyne, nor offer up un­to thee Sheep, or Oxen; but Pray­ers, Thanks, and Tears; Sacrifices [Page 101] most acceptable unto thee; In­cense which smells sweetest in thy Nostrills.

3.

VVHen the Israelites abode in Shittim, the Daugh­ters of Moab, allured then to com­mit Whoredoms; and thence we see a sad story of Cozby, arise; who was slain in the lustfull embraces of her Lover, in the sight of all the Congregation.

And yet how many Daughters of Moab have we in these dayes; Ah! how many Delilahs, which wear the Sun of Darknesse in their Faces, and I fear to in their hearts; who preferr a white Cheek or a Cherry Lip, before the beauty of Holinesse it self; and which covet no other Heaven, but their Lovers Armes. Fools thus for a moment of fading pleasures, to purchase [Page 102] everlasting Torments: For let them know, their Patches do not Beautifie their Faces, but set so many black spots upon their Souls; their Anointing and Painting, cau­ses them to slide the quicker into Hell; and their Pouders and Per­fumes, do but make them a dain­tier bit for Divels.

4.

VVHen Goliah Encountred David, he was Armed with a Helmet of Brasse, and a Coat of Maile, with a Sphear like a Weavers Beam; but on the con­trary, David comes in the Name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of the Armies of Israel; and thus with a Sling and a Stone only, he Slays this mighty Phylistine.

Victory is in the hand of God, and in vain is the strength of man without his assistance: if God be [Page 103] on thy side, let not the number of Enemies dismay thee, for he can defend his Elisha with Charriots of fire, and save his David both out of the Paw of the Lion, and out of the Hand of the Phylistine: He that comes in the name of the Lord of Hosts, is sufficiently armed a­gainst all Encounters; thus Guar­ded, I'le not fear the World, the Flesh, no nor Satan himself, for when the Tempter comes, I will meet him with my Saviours an­swer; [It is written, Thou shalt wor­ship the Lord thy God, and him onely shalt thou serve;] This, this is the way with these Weapons, with David I will strike the Monster in the forehead and slay him.

5.

SInfull Soddom sinned against God, and Just God Punish­ed Soddom; But what was [Page 104] wretched Sodoms sin, which hath not been in our habitations? what Crime did miserable Gomorrah perpetrate, which we have not committed? Niniveh in forty days, could Repent at the Preach­ing of one Jonas, and we not in fourty years, though hundreds thunder daily in our ears, the em­minent Judgments of God upon us. Purples and Silks are the Sack-cloath, and Powders and Perfumes the Ashes which we Repent in. Ah! our God, we have justly de­served, that thou shouldst make our Land a place of dead mens Sculls, an Island encompassed with her own Blood. Once, what Land more Righteous then England? and alas! now who more sinfull? she was once the Daughter of Na­tions, the joy and perfection of the whole Earth; but now her [Page 105] Beauty is departed from her, she is black, but no more comely: Lord we were once thy Darlings, as dear unto thee as the Apple of thine eye; Oh! therefore do not leave [...]is nor forsake us, but draw us with the Cords of thy Love, that we may once more run after thee; Poure the Oyle of thy Mercy into our Souls, and heal us, that thou again mayest be our God, and we thy People.

6.

WHen I call to mind my Christs Death, I cannot but admire the goodness of my Saviour, that he the Son of the King of Kings, should suffer his precious side to be pierced with a Spear; His Sacred Temples, those beds of sweetest Spices to be rent and torn, and all to preserve me from destruction: But must no less [Page 106] then the blood of the King of Hea­ven be the Balm to heal our wounded Souls? Shall my Jesus shed forth more drops of Blood then I shed tears? Shall he be Cru­cified for me, and I not Crucifie my Sins? Ah no! I will not be in­grateful to such a Saviour, to such a sweet Redeemer; But I will bath my self in Repentant Tears, I will weep day and night because of my sins, my mouth shall continually Praise my ever Blessed Redeemer.

7.

WE Read, that though the Prodigall had spent his Wealth in Riot, yet when he came to his Father with the con­fession of his fault in his mouth, he not onely pardons him, but kills a fatted Calf, for joy of his return, and receives him gladly.

Men cannot be readier to sin, [Page 107] then God to forgive a penitent Sinner; Art thou turn'd Prodigal and hast forsaken thy Heavenly Fathers House, spent thy Coelestial Treasure by turning his Grace into Wantonnesse? Yet if thou wilt at length return, Oh! he will Re­ceive thee with Embraces of Love, and kisse thee with the kisses of his mouth; yea there will be rejoycing in Heaven, and it will be a day worthy an Angels joy, wherein a Son is new born to the King of Glo­ry: Dispair not then, Oh my Soul! to find pardon at the hands of thy Mercifull Father, it is in his power alone to make a Blackamore white; nay wert thou stai'd as much as was Manasses that made the Temple slow with innocent blood; if thou wilt but wash thy wounds with penitent tears, he will poure the oyle of his mercy into them, and heal thee.

8.

THe poor Widdow casting but two Mites into the Treasury, was more praised by our Saviour, then those Rich men which cast in plentifully of their Abundance.

It is not the largeness of Almes, but the freeness of heart by which it is given; not the length of Prayer, but its fervency that is pleasing unto God; The short but humble Petition of the Publican was sooner accepted, then the long vain Glorious Prayer of the Pha­risee; and the Widdows two Mites before the Rich mens great gifts; let the Wealthy cast in of their Abundance, but I, though I cannot with Solomon Sacrifice thousands of Oxen, yet will I endeavour to offer up unto thee my heart; This Lord is the Mite I give thee, give thee dId I say? Alas! that was [Page 109] thine before, and I must pay thee Tribute with thine own Coyne; But I have so defac't the Image of the Great Caesar of Heaven, which was stamped on it, that thou wilt scarce know it for thine own; yet Lord if I can sincerely tender it to thee, even this dispised Mite thou wilt not contemn.

9.

CHrist going to see Jerusalem, Rode thither not in one of Caesars Glittering Charriots, but on an Humble Asse; The King of Kings, he that Rides in Triumph on the Clouds, he that Sits mount­ed on Cherubins, dained to Ride on an Asse, and surely a better Tri­umph then any of the Caesars; and by this we may see how far above all men he was meek, whose Tri­umph the subject of our greatest pride, was more humble then o­thers [Page 110] humblest actions; and where­fore did he thus debase himself, but to teach us Humility? what do we see in our selves to be proud of? Is it our frailty, or because we are born of the dust? How good­ly a thing it is to see a poor worm, a clod of dust, clad in the pomps of the silk worms spoils, to vaunt it self? Oh! our God give us hum­ble Souls; Pride and Ambition puffs up the heart of man, and the path to Heavens gate is too narrow for the swelling ambitious Soul to walk in; those who in their own conceits are goodly Caedars, in Gods are but dispised Shrubs, fit stubble for Hells Fire.

10.

HOly Peter by that Excellent Sermon of his Crucified Sa­viour, converted thousands to the Faith.

[Page 111]Great Orpheus, who with the Musick of thy tongue, didst not only make Trees, and Stones, but very Beasts to dance; Those Brests which were Barbarous, and Raging like a Tempestuous Sea, thou madest smooth as the brow of a Cherubin: Thy Saviours words are now true, thou art be­come a Fisher of Men, and hast ta­ken no less then three thousand at a draught; If this be so, what then is the reason, that instead of ha­ving three thousand converted at a Sermon, I fear we have three thousand Sermons, and scarce one converted? Have the Dispensers of the Word now a dayes less skill in Angling for Souls, then this Blessed Fisher? Oh no! surely it is the hardness of our hearts, which were they not more obdure then Stones, the Hammer of the Word [Page 112] would break them; were we not exceeding secure, those Sons of thunder would waken us, not dea­fer then Adders, those Sacred Charmers would Charm us.

1. On a Withered Rose.

THis Flower in the Gayeties of her Youth, was Fresh and Glittering like a New Married Bride; but being Coy, and Self-conceited, She defended her self [Page 113] from all those that would crop her, with her prickles; At last time, blasting her Orient hue, she is re­jected of all, and stands in a corner unregarded, bedewing her Cheeks each Morn for her former folly: Thus Lord in the pride of my youth have I disdained thee, thou hast woed me till thy locks were wet with the dew of Heaven, thou didest promise to transplant me in­to thy Garden, water me with thy tears, and nourish me under the shaddow of thy wings; Oh! what a happy flower had I then been, but I like a sullen Rose stubbornly de­nyed, Crucified thee afresh, and prickt thy fingers: I knew Lord that the Offering of the first Fruits were most pleasing unto thee, that the blooming Rose, and early morning virtues, smelt sweetest in thy nostrills; Yet have I continued [Page 114] in sin, whilst I was able to sin, and now return unto thee because I can sin no more; Whilst my Tapour was long, and its flame shining as the Lamp of Heaven; I spent my Light in Satans Court, and now come to burn my Snuff in thy Pa­lace; Oh! that my head were wa­ters, and my eyes Fountains of tears, that I might weep night and day for my Youths follies; Oh! how justly may I fear that thou wilt refuse Satans leavings, that because in my Youth I rejected the things that did belong unto my peace, that now they are hid from my eyes: Is a wrinckled Beauty a fit Spouse for the King of Glory? Will he inhabit Ruines? But Lord thou art merciful, if our Return be hearty, we can never come too late unto thee; therefore will I not dispair to be admitted, amongst [Page 115] that Blessed Posy of Flowers, which thou wilt place in thine own Bosome.

2. The Fly in the Candle.

THis Fly, and Ambitious Icarus, soaring too nigh its Sun, the Candle, scorches its wings, and so perishes.

Thus too many poor Christians dallie with Hell, and nibble too long till they are taken with the snare, they deem the day far off, and themselves secure, though at the brink of the Burning Lake; they take an Ignis Fatuus for their Guide, and never consider that it leads, unto Pitts or Precipices; With the Fly, the Light of the Candle, Lusts flames seem pleasing [Page 116] to them, but they are unmindfull that they will burn them: Thus miserable wretches buzzing too nigh the fire their wings are scorched, and they perish; too much Sun shine, too many Plea­sures so blind their eyes, that they cannot see their danger, and so are precipitated into the Pit.

3. On a Blotted Paper.

PAper whilst fair serves for ma­ny good uses, but being once blotted, is not fit to have Cha­racters upon it, but onely to sup­ply some servile Occasion, or the Fire.

Hath not God Created most of us a fair sheet, pure and without blemish? and shall our pride com­maculate [Page 117] our faces with patches; every patch we wear is a blur in the fair story of our lives? and where do we think there is space for God to set his Impressions, and Characters upon us, to mark us out for his, being already blotted, and full of the Devils stamps; Our bodies are the Temples of the Holy Ghost, and shall we thus Soil them? Oh no! for God will never dwell in such defiled lodgings, Christ will never own us for his, seeing the mark of the Beast in our Fore­heads; But that Immaculate Lamb will separate such spotted Goates from his unblemisht Sheep, with a depart from me you workers of Iniquity, I know you not.

4. The Sow in the Mire.

A Brutish Nature will alwayes act accordingly, nothing can perswade a silly Swine from its nasty Mire, nay were a Bed of Doves Feathers set before it, it would rather chuse to wallow in its filth, then repose in it, although it often meets with a stone which molests its imaginary rest.

What a true Emblem of a world­ling is this? for oh! how it tickles his fancy to wallow in the Mire of sin? Earth is his delight, he is al­wayes tending to the Ground his thoughts, his Meditations are all Earthly, as if his Creator had not made his countenance erected, but groveling downwards like these [Page 119] brute Beasts: He will not be with­drawn, although he often meets with a stone, and his dainties have too soure a sauce, for he cannot laugh heartily but the tears will stand in his eyes; Thus the best of Earthly Felicities have a tart fare­well, yet will he not forsake them, but prides himself in his sports, and like the Swine, because he sees them not, he thinks himself Beau­tifull; But the wise-mans eyes see how vilely he is bedaubed: Lord we are all vile and filthy, Oh! do thou wash us in thy Sons Blood, and then though we are never so unclean, we shall be white as Snow.

5. On the whipping of a top

THe oftner the Child strikes the Top, the better it spins, but if the stroke be omitted, of it self it ceaseth to go, if too violent it over-turns it.

Thus Lord is it with us, as long as thy Rod of Affliction lies on us, we go and walk the better in thy wayes; the more stripes thou givest, the more prayers send we up unto thee; But often when thou ceasest scourging of us, then we cease glorifying of thee: But oh! my Saviour remember the smart of thy own Stripes, and so have pitty on mine; Consider Lord, what a powerfull Arm sets on the blow, thou needest not whet thy Sword [Page 121] to destroy a broken and bruised Reed; but chear up, Oh my Soul! thy Prayers are heard; me thinks I see my Jesus Mediating for me, and smiling in his Fathers Face, in­terposes his hand betwixt every blow; thou hast such an Advocate, as cannot, will not he denied; when he undertakes thy sute, thou mayest boldly presume of Pardon.

6. On a Fleet of Ships in the Night.

SEe with what a nimble security the Fleet glides through the Bosome of the deep, though Dark­nesse surround it, and Rocks on each side threaten Destruction; guided onely by the skill of the Pilot, and the little light in their Admirall.

[Page 122]Our Saviour that Blessed Pilot, hath made the most perfect disco­very of the new Jerusalem unto us; and if we will but follow his course, we shall finde sufficient Light in him to guide us; and who can doubt of a Prosperous Voyage, having such a Pilot: canst thou fear Storms, when both the Wind and the Sea obey him; or Pyrats, when he hath already carried a­way that grand Pyrat the Devill, captive in Chains. Oh my Jesu! Thou Coelestial Palinurus, do thou steer, for thou onely canst do it, this crazy Barke of my Soul, Se­curely through all Enemies, by all Rocks, by Scylla and Charybdys the Devill and the Flesh, till it arrive at Heaven, the Saints Indies; where is such Treasure, as Eye hath not seen, Eare hath not heard of, neither hath it entred into the Heart of Man to conceive.

7. On the dropping of the Eaves.

VVOnderful are the Effects of these little drops of Water, for they falling on a Stone, not onely soften it, but wear it a­way.

Lord, I have a Flinty, Rocky Heart; Ah! do thou let fall the Drops of thy Grace and soften it, till it bow's in Obedience unto thee; What Heart so Stubborn, which the Distillations of thy Mercy cannot make pliable. But yet alas! we see to our sorrow, that though thy Mercies come un­to some, rather like Showers then by Drops, yet are they not at all [Page 124] Mollified, but rather Hardned in their Obstinacy towards thee; Stony ground, Barren Souls, which such sweet showers cannot make fruit­full; for every little favourable blast puffs them up, and they think their Causes must needs be Just be­cause they Prosper; but let them not deceive themselves, for they are but Exalted with wofull Ca­pernaum, to the Heavens; that their fall may be the greater into Hell.

8. On a Ship-Wrack.

POore Passengers in a Storm, being Ship Wrackt by the Fu­rious Sea; know not where to turn in their Distresse, but unto the same Rock, which was the cause of their Destruction.

[Page 125]Lord, thy Waves and thy Bil­lows have gone over me; Oh! whither, whither shall I turn but unto thee? Lord, I know that if thou doest lead me through the Wilderness Hungry and Thirsty, thou canst Rain down Manna from Heaven, and draw Water out of the Rocks for me, if one of thy Hands is arm'd with a Rod, in the other thou hast the Balm of Gile­ad; thou Lord art the strong Tow­er of Israel, and the Rock of Jacob; under the Shaddow of thy Wings I shall Rest secure: the Winds may blow, and the Seas swell, but all their Rage shall prove but Froth: he that relies on any other defence trusts to a Fort of Sand, which the least winde scatters; tis thou Lord alone, art able to deliver my Soul out of the deep Waters.

9. The Castle.

MAn is a Fortresse, Beleaguerd All his Life with Armies of innumerable sins, and Satan is their Captain-General. His Forces are devided into three Squadrons; The first is composed of Scarlet Troops, and under these, fight Blood-thir­stinesse. Revenge, and Murder; and these commonly take the For­tresse by Storme. His second Squa­dron hath black Ensignes, under which fight Dispair, and he gives a furious Assault; Next comes Co­vetousnesse, who seeks to Bribe and Betray the Fortresse, and with these are all other deeds of Dark­nesse; but his third Squadron have White Ensignes, and under these, [Page 127] are all catching Pleasures and Al­lurements; Ambition, Fame, Pride, Riot, and Lasciviousnesse: 'Tis these that come with the white Flag of Truce, and yet mean War; tis these that seem to be the least considerable Troops, and yet the most to be feared; tis these lay all the Ambushes, with these are his Artillery, and that is Woman; out of the Loop-holes of her eyes, she discharges her murderers; this is the fatal Flame that sets the whole Fortresse on fire, and besides these, that he may not omitt any thing on his part, he hath intelligence within, even thy own thoughts; thou thy self art foe to thy self, and Satan beats thee with thy own Weapons; but that which shews the height of his Policy is, that he will be sure to storm the Fort in the Weakest place: but do thou Jesu [Page 128] stand in the breach, and repell him back; do thou Man the Castle with Assurance and Constancy; Strengthen Faith, that it may keep its Ground; cause Repentance to open the Flood-gates of his Eyes, and drown its Foes; and thus shall the Siege be raised, and thou re­main Conquerour and Faithfull Souldier to the King of Heaven, who will reward thy Victory with a Wreath of Glory.

10. The Ship.

THis World is a Sea, Man is the weak Barke that is tossed in that Restlesse and Stormy Ocean; our hands are two of the Oares that Row us thither, and every good Deed we Act, we fetch a [Page 129] Stroak towards Heaven; and the Almighties Spirit is the gentle Blast that fills our Sails, for with­out it we are becalm'd. He that sails with the Tide glides towards Hell; Orphans sighs, are the winds that drive him swiftly on, he hath often a merry Gale, and he seldom thinks on the sadnesse of his Voy­age, till he almost arrive at the Dismal Haven of Death; and though God the Searcher of Hearts, who knows if he liv'd lon­ger, whether he would steer a new course, may pardon him; yet this is dangerous, and he often Misera­bly Perishes. But he that will steer in a direct course to Heaven, must Saile against the Tide, and he must always be Rowing; for whilest he is idle, the Stream carries him backwards; he will often meet with a thousand Impediments in [Page 130] his Voyage. Though Historians doubt whether there be any Sy­rens, yet in this Sea he will meet with many. Riches is the Fatall Remora, which sticks to the bot­tome of the Vessel and hinders its course; but above all, he must have a care he doth not Shipwrack himself against the White Rock of a Womans Breast. And besides these, he shall meet with other Storms, which will drive him back again; but he must Wrastle with these difficulties, and tug against the Stream, and if he chance to o­vercome the Tempest; Zephyrus gently filling his Sailes, and he en­joys Peace and Tranquillity; let him consider, that after the wan­ton play of Porposes there comes a Storm, and therefore repair the Breaches which the Tempest hath made; hath Dispair enterd? cast [Page 131] it out and resume thy Anchor of Hope; and at last thy Voyage shall be Prosperous, and thy Barke shall unlade its Pretious Fraight in the Bosome of its Saviour, that Great Factor of Souls; who will Treasure it in his Coelestial Store-house, and binde it up amongst his Jewels to all Eternity.