must be proportionable Our abode here shorter than a peregrination Tho we pass by those Iliads of Dangers that obviate us and burn out to the bottom of the Wiek dye in our socketts yet deduct so many Years for our declination since those more durable ones and almost one half of that abbreviated time for Sleep the Hand-Maid of death how inconsiderable when cast up will the Summa totalis be that we have to live How short our continuance If they were but Sojourners when the World was in the Meridian of his Age in its greatest Stature what a hasty transition do we make in its setting in its decrepitness As if we came to give the World a visit and in scorn to its miserable shortness bid a farewel to it If Life was but a shadow when God darted on them the rayes of his glorious Countenance and held Dialogues with the Sons of Men how far distant are we that refuse to come into his presence from the substance 4. If our Life in those large striding times was but a Span long how short are we now of that Span And if God doth not alarm us to Judgment that a few Ages more succeed ours their being will be so fleeting so voluble a duration so short so inconsiderable that they will not know how to entile it Even now we attribute too much by calling it a continuance having already in the way to that general dissolution suffer'd so much change but that the precedent Words check the loudness of the phrase T is but short but a few Days Man that is born of a Woman is but of few Days He that lives longest hath but his Term his being here is but as a Thought presently shoulder'd out by another The Flower we know though more gorgeous in attire than Solomon in all his Glory in the morning is by the Suns vigor raised out of the Bed of Earth displays her Colours and in the evening sickens and dyes Yet Man is no other sometimes less considerable rising with the Sun and stays not his setting 5. How great a part of mankind from their Mothers lying in date their laying out deliverd by the Hands of the Midwife from the Mantles and bloody coverings of the Womb to be sealed up in a winding-Sheet post from one Grave to the other How many with the Babes of Bethlehem see the World without continuing so long as to understand what they see or if they know it in the best of content conclude it not to be worth the knowing if but for its short continuance How many before they arrive to that perfection Nature designs us the beauty and strength of Youth are often so debilitâ—â—ed that for want of Strength expire How few make their perambulations till they feel the decrepitness of old Age kicking up their Heels or if the Thread of their Life be drawn out to a more unusual length yet is it but a lassitude a Province of Labour and Sorrow every Minute expecting when Death strikes at the crazy Doors of their Bodys the Damps that they carry about them making their Taper all that time burn Blew ready to extinguish 6. That Death shall unbody our Souls take down these tapestry Hangings of Flesh strip us to the bones what 's more incinerate Calcine those very bones distracts not reason since there is a necessity for all men once to dye Mors necessitatem habet aequam et invictam But that we should untimely dye and which is more admirable Non admittere mortem sed attrahere Make our hands the Bodyes carefull Conservators our own Executioners is a wonder too transcendent When a healthfull composure intends us for a longer time precipitate our ruine dig our own graves as if we conceited a greater misery in living then Job or to lay violent hands on our selves were after the Roman garb to deck our heads with Garlands and Trophies for the conquest over our present sufferings 7. The two main Columns that support mans life are heat and moisture If there be an excess or deficiency in either this stately Colossus becomes irreparably ruinous But if we were such perfect Naturalists as to acquaint our selves with the right constitutions of our bodyes and had an observant will to act according to the dictates of our knowledge by measuring out such a temperament that the heat be not cooled by an exuberancy of moisture or too thrifty allowance for it to feed on our lamp might burn with a greater Nitor a more lasting Clarity But such things are we born of women either to know so little or which is worse make not practical what we do know that either with excessive ating cloy we that heat make it unfit for digestion or throw too much drink upon those glowing embers or else frying up our marrow emptying our veins to fill the exorbitant desires of our lusts we are hurry'd to our last sleep many decad's of dayes sooner then if we measur'd out every thing aequâ lance with the hand of Mediocrity No marvil our day is so soon clouded our tale so soon told our Pilgrimage so soon terminated for not only Nature intends us a quick dispatch but we must needs steal a Thief into our farthing candle mend the swift pac'd sand that measureth our time by shaking the glass of our life into quicker motion Like that exquisite Limner who cut a visible line through that small one coppied out to him by his competitor 8. We have but one passage that leads us into the world and that a strait one For we come like Rebeccha's twins strugling and striving for our admittance but death hath bands of Executioners in a readiness to give us our passport Though there is but one postern that leads us out of the land of the living Death yet many are the wayes trod out to it Mille modis lethi miseros mors una fatigat Some foot it by those lesser paths of Agues and Colds Others ride the beaten and trodden wayes of Surfets and Feavers Others the common rodes and high ways of Pestilence and the Sword At this Centre Death all lines meet all rodes give up their passingers and when we have discharg'd our Bill of fare paid Nature her arrears for we have been dying even from our infancy vestigia nulla retrorsum We make no return The eye of him that hath seen me shall see me no more 9. Though we have our Magna Charta confirm'd to us by the king of Kings and Lord of Lords of a Sovereignty over the Creatures as is acknowledged by the Psalmist Thou hast put all things in subjection under his feet Yet there is no creature so contemptible but may have a time to triumph with the spoyls of his Lord. Praesentemque viris intentant omnia mortem Every thing menaces destruction hath an Invenom'd arrow ready to let fly at us The Fates could string their Bow with one single hair when they sent a death to Fabius a Roman A fly was
to mount us on the Terrace of a greater misery T is St. Basils Duriorem carcerem praeparamus by enjoying the opulent things of this life we fortifie our prison lay another coat of dirt upon our Souls which hinders the beams of our Creator from irradiating them There is nothing that in our esteem merits the name of good but hath an allay a checquering of sorrow F 1 We know the purest glasses will have their dews their tears hanging on them the brightest felicity its dropping cloud an opacous body of discomfort and pleasures themselves will destroy us before enjoyment if plentifully pour'd out Our souls are so shallow that they will be soon surcharg'd if they come towards us velut agmine facto in too violent a source Pliny reports that Chilon the Philosopher in embracing his Son having a Crown of Laurel bestowed on him at the Olympick games with a surfett of joy presently expir'd So did Marcus Iuventius when the Senate design'd an ample honour for him What pleasure can we expect what trust repose in any thing that is under the Sun Quos faelices Cynthia vidit Vidit miseros abitura dies Miserable Job reads here miserable mans fortune and in the glass of his own infelicity the Devil laying the Scene for his tortures could cleerly see to set us this Elegiack dirge full of misery We have not one appellation in scripture when dissected untwisted by the Rabbins that we find any thing to glory in 2. In Adam we are call'd Red earth which holds complexion with those spurious bratts hatch'd by us our sins they are as red as Scarlet and if the swarthiness of our discolour'd souls gives leave to blush at them then do we keep to our dye too Sometimes we are called Ish but a sound and that properly enough for we come Crying into the world ringing loudest peals of complaints when our voice is inarticulate unexpressive And we may be compar'd to a sound a voice for that is soon sent forth and assoon lost You see then we l ave not our names for nought God will not enoble with a splendid title that which deserves so much embasing 3. Indeed our piesent tribulations are as a thousand witnesses to assert this truth Quocunque aspiciam Quocunque lumina vertan We cannot look upon any thing but what appears with a a clouded face Let us take our rise from our entrance on this stage of life to the shutting up our last Catastrophe and we shall appear Actors in one continued Tragoedy No sooner bolt we out of the womb for we come head-long into the world which shews our giddiness and innate love to it but we find an entertainment so cold that we are fain to warm us with our own tears and our ability so faint so useless to administer relief to our crying necessities that our little Organs are presently sounded to implore a necessary aid our legs too weak to underprop the small burden of our bodyes our hands not strong enough to reach us sustenance and she that landed us in this vale of misery could not keep us from going assoon out of it if the arms of a stranger did not reprieve us from the grave All that time we are led and directed by Tutors and Governors reckon our selves under the rod of persecution differing nothing from a servant though Lord of all 4 And no sooner arrive we to compleat man but emulation boyls within us to such a tumour that we envy and hate those we see move in an higher Orb and think our condition but Heremitical because the seat of our Sovereignty is not built high enough to give us prospect over our Neighbours Under this Torrid Zone of our age in these distempering dog-dayes our desires are so exorbitant affections so disproportionable to the dictates of reason that while wandering through innumerable Labyrinths of care and trouble trusting to the Clue of our own fanatick spinning we lose our selves and seldom attain to that our betraying fancy reach'd at What though we crown our endeavours with a sought for success the felicity of our enjoyment in a just ballance will weigh too light if set against the harrassing of the body and wracking of the spirits in procuring it So that this florid part of our life if compar'd to the other extreams of age appears to you at first with as great a difference as the Sun in its pride to a day of clouds Yet upon a due calculation we have as many Halcyonian dayes under either Polar Star as under the Eccliptick of our youth 5. Having now cut the line sailed through this dangerous passage I shall lead you into a more temperate Climate but there we make no long progression enjoy only some few lucid Intervalls For before we can purifie our blood poyson'd with the sin 's of our youth bring back our straying fancies recompose the distempers of our bodyes settle the Vertigo or giddiness in our brain the Winter Quarter of age approaches disparkling such cold influences that the warmth of our breath hath not vigour enough to thaw the Isicles that hang on those few hairs our many sins could spare us Tum quicquid aetatis retrò est mors tenet Death makes one in this last Scene journeys with us in these latter dayes of our Pilgrimage So that the same may be rehearsed to us though in another sense which St. Paul preach'd to the wanton widdows That we are dead while we live Our tatter'd flesh suppl'd with Salves and Unguents swadl'd and held together with plaisters and trusses like ruinous buildings with Clasps and Cramperns of iron 6 What is it then but labour and sorrow and as the wise-man renders it Days wherein we have no pleasure Though he terms them dayes yet are they overshadowed in which we enjoy but a twy-light the sable Curtain more than half drawn about us our Candle all that while blazing in the socket giving more of ill savour than light So that we are not only a burden to our selves but an offence to others Rarum est faelix idemque senex If we did but curiously scan the distempers incident to each period of our life and what a Symphonie there is in the whole to compleat our sorrow so that though we shift the Scene from our Infant Morn to the Solstice of our age that to our declination 't is rather a malo ad Pejus not to better our condition but present it more disconsolate 7. Good reason have we then being men of like infirmities at this grand Inquest of mans mortality to give in with Job the same verdict though he as our foreman for his experience speaks for us Man that is born of a woman is of few dayes and full of trouble Since a fullness of trouble co-habits with us in these earthly Tabernacles 't is our happiness that our lease is of no longer continuance Seeing here we float upon a Mare Mortuum of misery it may comfort us that we are not
to chew a little Gaul in our mouths than to have Gripings in our Bowels and Excoriations in our Souls and that for ever to drink a Jill of Wormwood than to be perpetually intoxicated with the Cup of his fiery Indignation to endure the heaviness of a night for the joy that cometh in the morning a day that shall never be benighted a day that shall not have so much as a Cloud to veil or curtain the Saints happiness 12. It was answered by that famed Emperour Vespasian when Apollonius desired admission for Dion and Euphrates men eminently qualified My Gates stand always open to Philosophers but my very Breast is open to Apollonius So the Gates of that Palace Royal of Heaven that sure City of Refuge are never shut against such as are beaten on the Anvil of Affliction for righteousness sake But God receives these to a greater endearedness stretches their natures wider to receive a fuller measure of Glory erects their Throne with more refined Gold sets richer Jewels in their Crown that ennoble their suffering with Patience and Glory in their Tribulation Patience it fans the holy fires of Love throws perfumes into the flame snuffs our Lamp and makes it burn with a brighter clarity like the Chymists Elixir it turns all into incorruptible Gold the Touchstone by which God tries his people whether they be Gold or a baser Metal 13. The warlike Inhabitants of Germany plunged their Male Children in the Rhene to discover by their boldness in struggling with the waters their Courage or Cowardise Our Heavenly Father casts us on the Waters of Marah wrinkles the face of them with that tempestuous wind Euroclydon that troubled Paul to see whether we would lighten our Ship of that Baggage Stuff she is freight with whether we have courage to go on or patience to endure though we see neither Sun nor Stars for many days He that goeth to Golgotha and seeth Martyrs and Malefactors sent to the immortality of another world may easily make the difference who suffers for demerit and who for a good conscience The one sings in his flames the other howls the one reproaches the Executioner the other thanks him and with that Proto-Martyr Stephen prays for him the one like a spent Meteor stinks in his Socket the other like Aromatick Torches perfumes the Air with odoriferous Evaporations or a setting Sun that leaves an impression of Glory on the Neighbouring Clouds 14. But to have heard the complaint of Hadrian sung in a sort tone in a sadder Elegy or to have seen the impatience of Herod when wracked with an incurable Disease but more distorted Conscience or Julian the Apostate full of horrour and remediless despair or Nero when he crept into a Thicket of Reeds for fear of dying more majorum This sure like Belshazzar's Hand-writing would have made loose the Joynts of his Loins and his Knees to smite one against another But the Saints of God they smile upon death and torture and good reason have they Mors non est obitus sed abitus Death is their Goal-delivery gives them a Writ of Ease from all their Labours and Endurances 't is their Intrat to their Glories and endless Beatitudes S. Jerom saw but a little timidity in his Soul some show of her unwillingness to leave her old Habitations and presently he gives her the check Egredere quid times anima mea egredere c. 15. We may with less reluctancy traverse this Alpian way because much plained with the footings of those that have gone before If Myriads of Saints marched in the van and dared their Enemies to an Execution shall it startle us to bring up the rear No Victory without fighting no Crown without Victory We may be Spectators at the Olympick Games carry a Crown to adorn anothers Triumph but never wreath our own Brows unless we get the Garland with striving And who will not enter the Lists when he is sure to carry away the prize For God with his Militia of Angels attends the Combat and enhaunceth the price of their Virtue according to the vigorousness of the temptation they grapple with If such had not their exemption from the effects of an angry God whom the Lord hath styled A man after his own hearty the signet of his right hand the friend of God his Husbandry his Building expressions of a strange endearedness can we that are but Shrubs and Brambles think to have merited more of lenity than those Oaks of Bashan those Cedars of Lebanon those Colums of Piety and Godliness that our services are of an higher strain than the Apostles and primitive Saints and therefore he should lay his strokes the gentler on us 16. Believe it we have dipped our Sins in a far deeper Die made them as red as Scarlet rivalled the greatest Offender and therefore our suffering can never make an expiatory Oblation If God did perpetually flash his Lightnings dart his Thunder-bolts and knot his Rods like the Whips of the Furies with Serpents and Scorpions yet the disproportion must be strangely great betwixt a finite suffering and an infinite Majesty offended 'T is of singular advantage and encouragement to us in this War-fare that Christ underwent the fame pressures but ripened to a greater maturition for he can tell to a scruple how much Freight we can take in how many fathom of Water our Vessel draws so that he will be sure to unlade us if the Burthen be too weighty throw into them some sweet Liquors if the Waters taste too brackish L. 1 It was a comfort to dying Lausus that he received his death from the great Aeneas It matters not how many stripes we receive how deep the wound how disconsolate the Soul since it is a Saviour that afflicts who carries healing under his Wings so much Blood and Sweat so many Sighs and Sobs shall not become fruitless but he will see tho Work of our Redemption perfected We are wounded but that good Samaritan will have compassion bind up our Sores and pour Oil and Spikenard on them that can settle and compose a distempered and sadded Soul and sparkle our Countenance as if we were putting on the Royal Habiliments in the morning of our Resurrection Dum dat verbera ostendit ubera God never bruises us but he hath a Plaister ready spread pearled Cordials to fetch back a departing life 'T is said the Stork lets out the corrupt Blood of her young ones and then acts the Chyrurgeon's part closing up the Wound with her Tongue Thy Rod and thy Staff they comfort me both like loving Correlates attend each other 2. It is a very great advance to a Cure when our fancy builds a belief that the means and applications us'd by our Physician will be prevalent to a repelling the Disease then we yield our Bodies wholly to his disposal and never dispute whether he will phlebotomize or use strong Purgations whether he scarrifies the wound or makes an incision God who is omniscient knows