Britains Remembrancer
The source for this document is https://quod.lib.umich.edu/e/eebo/A15627.0001.001
Project Note
This is licensed under Creative Commons CC BY-NC-ND. This license allows reusers to copy and distribute the material in any medium or format in unadapted form only, for noncommercial purposes only, and only so long as attribution is given to the creator.
The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
The meaning of the Title page.
BEhold;
and
mark;
and
mind,
ye
British
Nation
•
,
•
his dreadful
Vision
of my
Contemplations.
Before the Throne of
Heaven,
I saw, me thought,
T
••
s famous
Island
into question brought.
W
•
th better ears then those my
Body
bear,
I b
•
ard impartial
IVSTICE
•
o declare
God's
Benefits,
our
Thanklesnesse,
and what
Small heed, his
Love,
or
Judgments
here begat.
I viewed eternal
MERCIE,
how she strove
G
••
's just deserved
Vengeance
to remove.
B
•
t, so en
•
rea
•
t our
Sins,
and cried so loud,
That, at the last, I saw a dismal
Cloud
E
•
ceeding black, as from the
Sea
ascending,
And
••
er all this
Isle
it self extending:
Wit
•
such thick foggy
Vapours,
that their steams
S
•
e
•
'd, for a while, to darken
MERCIES
heames▪
Wi
••
in this fearful
Cloud,
I did behold
All
Plagues
and
Punishments,
that name I could.
And with a trembling heart, I feared each hour,
G
•
d woul
•
th
•
t
Tempest
on this Island pour.
Yet, better hopes appeared: for, loe, the
Rayes
Of
MERCY
pierced this
Cloud,
& made such ways
Q
•
ite throug
•
those
Exhalations,
that mine eye
〈◊〉
Inscription,
thereupon espy;
B
•
ITAINES REMEM
•
RANCER:
&, somewhat said,
Th
•
se w
••
ds (me thought)
The Storm is, yet, delaid,
And if ye do not penitence defer,
This
CLOVD
is only, a
REMEMBRANCER.
Bu
•
, if ye still affect impiety,
Expect, e're long, what this m
•
y
•
ignifie.
Th
••
h
•
ving he
•
rd a
•
d seen, I thought, nor fit
Nor safe it were, for me to smother it:
And, th
•
r
•
for
•
, both to others eyes, and ears,
Have off
•
ed, here, what unto mine appears.
I
•
dge▪
•
s y
•
pleas
•
▪ ye
Readers,
this, or me:
Tr
•
th will be Truth, how e're it censured be,
GEO: WITHER▪
[illustration]
Britain's Remembrancer Containing A Narration of the PLAGVE lately past; A Declaration of the MISCHIEFS present; And a Prediction of IVDGMENTS to come; (If Repentance prevent not.) It is Dedicated (for the glory of God) to POSTERITIE; and, to These Times (if they please) by GEO: WITHER.
JOB 32.8, 9, 10, 18, 21, 22.
Surely, there is a spirit in man; but the inspiration of the Almighty giveth understanding.
Great men are not always wise, neither do the aged always understand judgment.
Therefore, I say, hear me, and I will show also my opinion.
For, I am full of matter; and the spirit within me compelleth me.
I will not accept the person of man, neither will I give flattering titles to man.
For, I may not give flattering titles, lest my Maker take me away suddenly.
Read all, or censure not:
For
▪ He that answereth a matter before he hear it,
it is shame and folly to him.
PROV. 18.13.
PROV. 18.13.
Imprinted for Great Britain, and are to be sold by JOHN GRISMOND in Ivy-Lane. MDCXXVIII.
TO THE KINGS MOST EXCELLENT MAIESTIE.
Most Royal SIR:
BEcause I doubted who might first peruse,
•
hese honest Raptures of my slighted
Muse;
Observing it the quality of most,
To pass rash judgments (taken up) on trust▪
And, that according to the wits of those
Who censure fi
•
st, the common Censure goes:
Perceiving, too, with what oblique aspect,
Some glaring
Comets,
on my Li
•
es reflect;
A while I pawsed, whether trust I might
My plain-pace'd
Measures
to their partial sight,
Who m
•
y upon them (e're you read them) seize,
And comment on my Text, as they shall please,
Or sl
•
ight, or scoff; such men were known to me;
And being loath, they first of all should be
My
Judges;
here, I off
•
r to your eye
The prime perusal of this
Poesie.
For, minding well what hopes I have of
You;
What course, my Fortunes urge me to pursue;
What blu
•
res, good Studies by those Fools have got.
Who sleight desert, because they kn
•
w it not;
What freedom
Nature
gives to e
•
'y soul,
To speak just things, to
Kings,
without control▪
How far from noble, and from wise they be,
Who disallow the
Muses
should be free;
How eased we are, when we our minds disclose;
What profit from our honest boldness flows;
What Resolutions I have made mine own,
And what good cause there is to make them known:
All this well weighing, with some Reasons moe
(Which useful are for none but me to know)
I did not fear these
Po
•
ms
forth to bring,
To bide, at first, the censure of a King.
And loe, on milk white paper wings they fly,
Read they that lift, when you have laid them by.
But, SIR▪ I humbly pray you; let not fall
Your
Doome,
till you have read▪ and read it all:
For, he that shall by fragments this peruse,
Will wrong himself, the Matter, and the
Muse.
Although a tedious Work it may appear,
You shall not wholly lose your labor here.
For, though some he
•
alesse
Courtiers
censure may
That on this Book your time we
•
e cast away,
I know it may your spirits recreate,
Without disturbing your affairs of
State
;
And with more useful things acquaint your ears,
Then twenty hundred thousand tales of theirs.
You also know, that well it fits a King,
To hear such
Messages,
as now I bring.
And, that in doing so, to take some pleasure,
Great
Monarchs
thought it just to be at leisure:
Long since, I have elected you to be
Moecenas,
to my Muses, and to me.
And if my hopes in you shall be
•
ere
•
t me,
I have no other hopes in this kind left me;
Nor any purpose, whatsoever come,
To seek another
Patron,
in your room.
Nor seek I now, that I from you may gain,
What, other times I covet for my pain.
Nor for because my heart hath any doubt,
That I shall need a
Friend
to bear me out
Against the fury or the fraud of those,
That openly, or secretly, oppose
Such
Works;
For,
He
that me to this doth call,
Shall save me harmless, or I mean to fall.
Not that I sleight your favor, speak I this;
(For dear and precious to my soul it is)
But rath
•
r, that the world may know and se
•
,
How him I trust that hath inspi
•
ed me.
(Though some suppose I may) I do not fear,
As many would, if in my case they were.
I do not fear the
World
deprive me can
Of such a mind, as may become a
Man;
(Wh
•
t ever outward m
•
s
•
ries be
•
ide)
For, God will Means, or For
•
itude provide.
I do not fe
•
re (unl
•
sse I merit blame)
That any one hath power to work my shame:
Since they who ca
•
sl
•
sly my Name shall spot,
Reproach themselves; but, me disparage not.
And, sure I am, though many seek to spite me,
That every Dog which barketh cannot bi
•
e me.
I oft have looked on
Death,
without dismay,
When many thousands he hath swept awe
•
y
On
•
v'ry side; and f
•
om him have not stir'd
One foot, when he most terrible appeared.
I know of
Want
the utmost discontents;
The cruelty of
Close-imprisonments;
The bitterness of
Slanders
and
Disgrace,
In private corn
•
s, and in public place:
I have sustained already, whatsoever
Despight can add, to wrong a good endeavor;
And, am become so hopeless of procuring
True
Peace,
(but by a peaceable enduring)
That, what remains to suffer shall be borne:
And, to repine at
For
•
une,
I will scorn.
I do not fear the frowns of mighty men,
Nor in Close-prison to be lodged agen:
For,
Goods, Life, Freedom, Fame
▪ and such as those,
Are things which I may often gain or lose,
At others pleasures: and, over much to prize
What Man may ta
•
e, or give, I much despise.
I am not fearful, as (I hear) are so
•
e,
What of the
Times,
now present, will become:
For, God to prosper them emploring still,
I fea
•
l
•
sly attend upon his will;
And am assured, by many
P
•
esidents,
Th
•
t like
proce
•
di
•
gs
will have like
events.
I do not fear those
Critics
of your Court,
That may
•
y goo
•
intentions misreport;
Or s
•
y it mis
••
seemeth me to dare
With such bol
•
language to sal
•
te your ear:
•
or, as I k
•
ow your
G
•
eatnesse,
I have known
Wh
••
••
eedomes on the
Mu
•
es
are bestowne;
And, that th
•
ir
Serv
•
nts
should not whine like those
W
•
o a
•
e your daily
O
•
ators
in prose.
I f
•••
e not any
••
n that would abuse,
O
•
•
n her
•
a
•
full sl
•
ghts affront my
Muse,
Because, perhaps, ex
•
eptions may be took
Aga
•
nst some passage in the following Book.
Fo
•
, she to non
•
hath purposed abuse,
And▪ therefore, needs nor shel
•
er, nor excuse.
And when she pleaseth, she hath means to fray
Th
•
se
Buzzards,
that w
•
uld interrupt her way.
She d
•
res not only,
Ho
•
by
-like, make wing
At
•
or
•
s
and
Butterflyes
▪ but also spring
Those Fo
•
les that have been flown at yet by none,
Even those, whom our best
Hawks
turn tail upon.
Not only at
Crowes, Ravens, Daws,
and
Kites,
Rookes, Owls,
or
Cuckowes,
dare she make her flights,
At wily
Magpies,
or the
lay
that vaunts
In others Plumes; or, greedy
Co
•
morants;
Or those, who being of the
Kastrell
-kind,
Vnworthily aspire, and fan the wind
For a
•
rie
Titles;
or, the
Birds
men rate
Above their value, for their idle
prate.
At
Wag-tails,
busy
Titmise,
or such like;
But, with her pounces, them dares also strike
That furnish Courtly Tables. As, our
Gull
▪
A bird much found among the
Woe
••
hipfull.
Our
Dottrells,
which are caught by imitation.
Our
Woodcocks
▪ sh
••
owing out that foolish
Nation,
Who hide their he
•
ds, and t
•
i
•
k se
••
re th
•
y be,
When they the
•
selves thei
•
da
•
gers
••
e not s
•
e.
O
•
r strutting
Peacockes
▪ whose harsh voice do
•
h show,
That some sh
•
rpe stormy winds will shortly blow.
Our
Herneshawes,
slicing backward filth on those,
Whose worths they dare not openly oppose.
Our traitorous
Mallards,
which are fed and taught,
To bring in other
wild-fools,
to be caught.
Those
Fowls,
that in their over-daring pride,
Forget th
•
ir breed, and will be
Eglifide.
Our British
Barnacles,
that are a dish
That can be termed neither flesh nor fish.
Even these, or any Fowl▪
•
he durst surprise,
If they dare cross her, when to check she flies.
Or, if that any one shall do us wrong,
Who for our mounting
Falcons
is too strong;
I can unkennell such an eager pack
Of deep-mouthed
Hounds,
that they af
•
aid shall make
Our sternest
Beasts of prey,
and cunning'st
Vermin,
Even from the
Fox-fur,
to the
spotted Ermine.
In plain
•
r terms; if any shall oppose
My
Muse,
when in a lawful path she goes,
She will not much be startled; but, go near
To tell them what they would
•
e loath to hear.
She's none of those that spew out railing
Rimes,
Against some public persons of the Times,
Through spleen or envy; then, for fear, or shame,
Divulge them to the world without a
Name;
Or hide their heads. Nor can those threats (that fright
Such
Libellers)
compel her not to write,
Unless she please: for, she doth know her
Warrants,
And sends her
Messengers
on lawful arrants.
She u
•
ters Truth; even that, which well she knows
Becomes her; at this present, to disclose.
That called she was, to make this Declaration▪
She stands assured; and of that vocation
Such testimonies hath, that I despise
His judgment who the power thereof denies:
For, yours I doubt not, and if pleased you are,
For what man's censure living need I care?
No such like panic fe
•
re affrigh
•
eth her,
As that which doth her enemies deter.
But, if sh
•
list, in spite o
•
all the rage,
(And all the bitter malice of this age)
S
•
e dares reprove, and vex the proudst of them,
Who her, and her endeavors do contemn;
And set (who e're they be) her marks on those
Who
Virtue,
in her honest course oppose.
Yea, them sh
•
e'll make, whom self-conceit besots,
Distrust, that we descry their secret'st plots,
And may at pleasure, lay to open view,
Both what they purpose, and what shall ensue
On their vain
Projects;
though when they begun the
•
,
They placed many veils, and maskes, upon them.
SIR, no such
Toyes
as those do make me fearful▪
Nor of their hate or favor am I careful.
For sh
•
lter there
•
fore, this I brought not hither,
Nor am I hopeful, or desirous either,
To compass any private profit by it,
Or, to my person any praise, or quiet.
For, I can hope for nothing, till I seee,
The
World,
and my deservings b
•
tter be.
And, howsoever I am, now and then,
As fool
•
sh in my hopes as other men;
Y
•
t, at this present, (and at every season,
In which my oft we
•
ke eyes of
Faith
and
Reason
Vnclosed are) me thinks, thos
•
things, in which
The world appears most glorious, and most rich;
Are no more worthy of my serious hopes,
Then Ratles, Pot guns, or the School-boys Tops.
If God will give me bre
•
d but for today,
(And, but my soul vouchsafe me for a prey)
Twixt him and me, there shall be no conditions
For worldly honors, or for large possessions:
For, (as long since an Hebrew
Prophet
said,
When such like times, as these, had much d
•
smaid
His fearful
Scribe) Is this a time for me
To seek
•
preferment, or made rich to be?
No, no▪ for, if these days continue such
As now they be, each
Groome
will have as much
As hath his
Lord;
and diffrence will be small
Betwixt the richest, and the poor'st of all.
There are enough already, who desire▪
To ri
•
hes, and high places to aspire.
There be great numbers, who will
projects
bring you,
And
Books,
and
Tales;
and
Songs,
it may be, sing you,
For, their own profit: but, there want of
•
hose,
That would their honors, or their livings lose,
Or hazard their preferments, to declare
Those
•
ruths,
that worthy of disclosing are.
Yet, that is all
(Dread Sovereign)
I have sought,
In tendering you
•
hese Lines that I have brought.
And, that by my example, others may
Take heart to speak▪ what they are bound to say.
I know, the ods is more
•
hen ten to three,
That for this boldness most will censure me
As mad or foolish: and, my best reward
Will be this comfort, that I boldly dared
To speak the needful Truth, at suc
•
a time,
In which the bravest virtue seems a crime.
I do expect this wise-appearing ag
•
Should at the freedom of my
Poem
rage,
And, that some wi
•
ty
Scorners
should abuse
With taunting Epithites, my honest
Muse;
As if she were produce'd by
Chemistry,
Of
Salt
and
Sulphur,
without
Mercury.
But, I am proof against their fl
•
shy stuff;
And for their scornings I have scorn enough.
I look our
Politicians
should d
•
fame
My
Straines
▪ by censuring them to be to blame,
O
•
over busy. But, my seeming folly
M
•
y make some Readers strive to be more holy,
Then heretofore: yea, some who think they know
•
nough already; shall more prudent grow
By
This.
And I am w
•
llin
•
to be thought
A fool, that they more wisdom may be taught.
Yet, I co
•
fesse, that lately when I saw
This course, did hate, and wants upon me draw,
And that, without a
Second,
I was fain
The w
•
ight of a
•
l my tr
•
ubles
•
o su
•
taine;
I h
•
lfe resolv
••
, that I would speak no more
So plain, against
Abuse,
as heretofore;
And (thinking I had ventured well
•
or one)
Did mean to leave
•
he
World
her course to run:
Nay, from good words (all
•
hough it was a pain)
I fully was resolved to refrain.
But, when I silence kept, my heart became
As hot within me, as a fiery flame.
Yea, like new wine, in vessels wanting vent,
My thoughts did swell my breast to be unpent;
A
•
d, at the last, I empti'd with my quill
A vein, which did the following
Volume
fill:
Supposing by the public
Press
to send it,
To them▪ for whose
Remembrance
I intend it.
But, they who keep the passage, back did thrust in
B
•
fore perusal; and, (be like) distrust it,
Because my name it carry'd, to be such
As might upon their friends too nearly touch.
For, some of them have said; that were my writing
As true as that of holy
John's
inditing,
They would not license it: so fearful are
These guilty
Times
the voice of
Truth
to hear.
When therefore, I had this my
Offring
brought,
And laid it at their door; a while I thought
My self discharged: but, my
Conscience
said,
My work was lost, and still my vow unpaid,
Till I had practice'd every likely way,
To tell the
Message
which I had to say.
And, since the common way it might not pass,
To bring it by your Gate, resolved I was.
My first determining of such a thing,
Did many several doubts upon me bring▪
One while I doubted, that those fools who mock
At piety, would make a laughing stock
Of this and me: and say (with some disdain)
That I would make myself a
Prophet
fain:
And puffed with self conceit, had pe
•
n'd a Story
For private ends, and for mine own vain glory.
Or, that with pride and arrogance deluded,
I had upon undecent things intruded.
Another while I doubted some would prate,
That these my Lines dishono
•
e
•
the
State,
And on the
Government
aspersions laid▪
As of their warnings oft the
Jews
have said.
Sometime I feared, all my words would make
But few or none the better heed to take.
Because I read, that many a
Prophet
spoke,
What, small effect within his life time took,
Except, in aggravating of abuses,
And leaving them the more without excuses.
Sometime again, I feared lest if
You
Referring this my
Poem
to their view
Who misconceive it may, (and trusting them
In censuring, who causl
•
sly condemn
Men innocent) might, by that evil chance
Be wronged; and suff
•
r for their ignorance.
•
hus Kings are of
•
en injured: and, some perish
In their disl
•
ke, whom they are
•
ound to cherish.
I s
•
w▪ moreover, that my Foes, of late,
Had so much wronged me in my estate
•
,
By ne
•
dlesse charge, and causles
•
e hindering me,
From those due profits, which my
Portion
be;
That to recover them, (and to pursue
My law
•
ull right) I havē no means but you,
And your just favor. Which, if I should miss,
(By giving to your ear distaste in this)
My adversaries would prevail, I thought,
And, my disgrace, and ruin would be wrought.
These carnal doubt
•
▪ and many other such,
Against my
Reason
did pr
•
veil so much,
That I was half afraid to venture on
In that, which ought with courage to be done.
But, whilst I staggered, and began to stay,
Me thought, within me, somewhat thus did say.
Base
Coward
; hath God's love so many days,
To thee appeared; and so many ways?
Hast thou so often felt, what thou dost know,
From nothing, but the power of God can fl
•
w?
Hath he so plai
•
lie told thee, with what wiles,
The foolish
world,
her self, and those beg
•
iles
That hearken to her? Hath he made thee see
How little harm, her spite can do to thee?
Nay, hath he pleased been to bring unto thee,
Great profits, by those injuries men do thee.
And, shall the fear but of a paltry scoff,
From that which he appointeth, beat thee off?
Hath he so often kept thee from disgrace,
And fed and clothed thee, m
•
erely o
•
his grace,
That thou shouldft now distrust he will deceive thee,
And, when he sends thee on his
Message,
leave thee,
Without those necessaries, which pertain
To those who in his
Service
do remain?
Hath he no mean
•
to b
•
ing thee fit supplies,
But such as thine own wisdom can devise?
Hath God destroyed so many of thy
hopes,
And dost thou build them still on carnal props?
Didst thou so many times, in secret vow
Affiance in hi
•
promises? and, now
Hast thou no surer helps to trust unt
•
,
Then
Kings
and
P
•
inces?
And, as others do
(Who have not thy experience) dost thou shrink
As soon as any outward
Stay
doth sink▪
Wouldst thou thy God displease, to keep a friend,
Perhaps in vain, for s
•
me poor temporal end?
Isit now a
Season
(when the
Lands
transgressions
Have shaken all) to settle thy
Poss
•
ssions?
When all the I own about thee is on fire,
Wouldst thou go build thy straw-clad Cottage hyer?
Well; take thy course. Yet, know, if thou forbear
What now thy Conscience bids thee to declare,
Thy foolish
Hope
shall fail thee, never the less;
Thy wrongful suffering shall h
•
ve no redress;
Thou shalt have greater wants then pinch thee yet;
New sorrows, and disgraces, thou shalt get
Instead of help; and, which is worst of all,
A guilty
Conscience,
too, torment thee shall.
•
hen, be advised, and proceed to do
That lawful
Act,
thy heart inclines unto;
And, be thou sure, that God will make thee strong
Against the violence of every wrong.
Be stout; and though all persons through the
Land,
Even
Prince
and
People
both, should thee withstand,
Their opposition nothing harm thee shall;
But, thou shalt bide them like a brazen wall;
And if thou suffer persecutions flame,
Thou shalt be but refined in
•
he same.
Such thoughts we
•
e whisp
•
r'd in me. And though some
M
•
y think them vain suggestions, flowing
•
rom
Distemper'd
Fa
•
cy
; I dare boldly say,
They lie:
And, I their motives do obey.
All doubts, and fears▪ and stops, are broken through,
And loe
(Dread Sovereign)
I have brought to you
(In all humil
•
tie) my s
•
lfe and these
My honest and my just
REMEMBRANCES:
To pass, for those, to whom they appertain;
Or, here for my discharging to remain.
God is already angry (I am afraid)
Because this
duty
I so long delaid.
And,
stand,
or
fall,
now I have reached thereto,
I would not, for the world, it were to do.
Good SIR, reject it not, although it bring
Appearances of some fantasticke thing,
At first unfolding: for▪ those
Mysteries
Which we most honor, and most highly prize,
Do seem to be but foolishness to some.
And, when our
sin
to any height is come,
It brings a height of
folly,
which oft makes
That course to seem uncomely, that God takes
For our reproof, (and chiefly) if it carry
The show of any way not ordinary.
Which (out of doubt) is requisite▪ when sin
That's extraordinary breaketh in.
Believe not those, who reasons will invent,
To make this
Volume
seem impertinent:
For, what is more of moment, then a story
Which mentioneth to God Almighty's glory,
His
Judgments,
and his
Mercies?
and doth show
Those things that may prevent our overthrow?
Sure, nothing is more worthy of regard:
And though a foolish tale be sooner heard,
Yet, in respect thereof, the glorioust things,
That stand upon record of earthly
Kings,
Appeare to me as vain, as large discourses
Of childish
May-games,
and of
Hobby-horse
•
.
Give ear to none, I pray you, who shall seek
To move, within your
Highness,
a dislike
To my unusual boldness, or my phrase:
For, who doth listen to an honest cause
In these regardless times, unless it be
So dr
••
t, as if it seemed to say;
Come see
What's here to do.
Men's wits are fallen asleep;
A
•
d, if I do not some strange rumbling keep,
(That is not look
•
for) they no heed will take,
Of what I say, how true soe're I speak.
I know there be
Occasion
•
, Times,
and
Causes,
Which do r
•
quire so
•
t words, and lowly
Phrases:
And, then, l
•
ke other men, I
•
each my
Muse
To sp
•
ache such language as my neighbors use.
But, there
••
e a
•
so
Times
which will require,
That we should wi
•
h our
Numbers
mingle fire:
And, then I vent bold words; that
You,
and They
Who come to hear them, take occasion may
To ask or to examine, what's the matter,
My
Verse
speaks tartly, when most
Writers
flatter.
For, by that means, you may experience'd grow
In many things which else you should not know.
My
•
ines
are loyal, though they bold appear:
And thou
•
h at first, they make some
•
eaders fear
I want goo
•
manners; yet, when they are w
•
igh'd,
It will be foun
•
that I have nothing said,
In
manner,
or in
matter
worthy blame,
If they alone sh
•
ll j
•
dge me for the same,
Who know t
•
u
•
Virtues
language; and how free
Fro
•
gl
•
zing terms, her
Servants
use to be.
Though bold I seem to some that
Cowards
are,
Yet, you I hope, sh
•
ll find, I neither d
•
re
Thin
•
s that or need
•
esse be, or desperate;
O
•
, that
•
oo
•
e to be wondered at
Among those fools, who love to hear it said,
That they to break their necks were not afr
•
id.
Fo
•
, as a
Seaman,
when the Mast he climbs,
Is safe enough▪ thou
•
h he in danger seems
To some beholders: So, although that
Path,
In which I tread, a show of peril
•
hath
To those who see not what fast hold I take,
My
•
tanding will be firm, when theirs doth shake.
And, if I fall, I fall not by this
Act,
But, by their malice, who dislike the
Fact.
Heed none I pray, that hath so little shame,
To say these times are not so much to blame
As I have made them seem:
•
or, worse they are
Then I have yet expressed them, by far▪
And, much I fear
•
, that
•
hey who most defend them,
Will make them to be worse, before they mend them.
Nor doubt you,
Royal SIR,
that from the story
Of your just reign, or from your future glory,
It ought shall derogate, to hear it told,
Such evils, whilst you reigned, were contrould.
For, we do read, that
Kings
who pioust were,
Had wicked Subjects. And, beside, you are
So late enthroned, that your government
Could little inso small a time augment
Their being good or ill: But, you shall gain
The greater glory, if you can restrain
(And keep from growing worse) a time, b
•
come
So grossly wicked, and so troublesome.
If any other way my
Verse
be wronged,
By Readers ill advised, or evil tongued,
Vouchsafe to spare your censure, till you hear
What
•
ust replies to their
Objections
are.
Or, if that any to disparage this,
To yo
•
, shall of my life report amiss;
Reject their scandals (for your own dear sake)
And let them no impression on you make.
For, evil tongues sometimes will set their stings
Vnjustly, on the sacred name of Kings
Much more on mine. But, for my own repute,
So careful am I no
•
to make this suit,
But for my
Muses
honor. For, in all
My outward actions, I dare boldly call
Your strictest Laws to censure me. And what
I am to God, it may be guessed at,
But rightly known, to none but him, and me.
And, though from outward scapes I stand not free,
Yet, let this
Mess
•
ge
her due merit win:
For, God's most holy
Prophets
had their sin.
As in a Glass, here may you, by reflection,
Behold (without the hazard
•
f infection)
The horrid
Pestilence
in her true form,
Which in your Kingdom did so lately storm;
And is so soon forgotten, that I err,
Unless there needeth a
REMEMBRANCER.
Hereby, succeeding
Times,
in such like terrors,
May learn to see and to prevent some errors.
Here, understand you may (withou
•
false gloze)
What heretofore your people did suppose
Of
You
: Their hopes before your Coronation,
And what hat
•
been since then their expecta
•
ion.
Here, you may partly see, what you of them
May hope: what you should cherish or condemn.
Here, view you may (before too far they steal)
The sicknesses of
Church
and
Commonwealth:
What b
•
ings upon your
Person,
and
•
he
State,
Such ca
•
e, and so much trouble as of late:
What mars your
Counsels,
and what undermines
Your most approved, and most wise designs:
What makes your
Arms,
your
Vertu
•
s,
& your
Friends
So little helpful to your pious ends:
What makes your
Fl
•
ets
return without success;
What breedeth doubtings and unsettledness
In weighty matters▪ and whence discord springs
Among the
People,
and twixt them and
Kings.
And, if it well observed be perchance,
What seems to most a trifling circumstance,
Shall of it self inform, or else prepare
To signify those things that weightiest are:
For, they who can my
Muses
reach discern
Shall find, that what most think doth but concern
My person only; may to that conduce,
Which serves to public, and to p
•
ivate use.
Moreover▪ this
Rem
•
mbrancer
doth show,
To what th
•
folly of these times will grow;
And, what in future days will surely fall
If we our courses long continue shall.
He, lastly do
•
h declare the certain way,
By which, ensuing harms prevent we may;
Take off the skars, our passed sins have given,
And, make our present peace with earth and heaven.
Deare SIR
; as you your honor do respect
For times to come: as you do now affect
Your present comforts, and those hopes that are
The pledges of that
Crown,
you look to wear,
(When you must leave that golden
Crown of thorns,
Which pains your head, as much as it a
•
ornes)
Give heed to these
Remembrances
: Command them
To pass, in spite of such as would withstand them.
Do you reform, according to your pow'rs.
In every quarter of this
I will
of yours,
Give w
•
y to
Reformation.
In the Crimes,
And many crying sins, of these lewd times,
Be you no partner, by conniving at
Their
Actors;
or, discountenancing that
Which may disable them to tyrannize;
Who will to hide old sins, new faults devise.
And, do not for some few reserve that
ear,
Which should the suit of every
Subject
hear.
But, as you have been, yet, (and as I trust
You shall continue) be in all things just;
And as upright, as him it may befit,
Who doth in place of
God Almighty
sit;
That
you
and
yours
▪ may still in safety stand,
What plague soever fall upon the
Land.
And, let not my
Petition
be condemned,
As over bold; or my advice contemned,
Because a man despised gives the sa
•
e;
Fo
•
, sel
•
ome hi
•
herto, a
M
•
ss
•
ge
came
From God, on such occasions,
•
ut some
•
one
In outward sh
•
w, scarce worthy thinking on,
Was made the
Messenger.
All heavenly graces
Are not entailed on men of highest places:
Nor is all that which every
Prelate
says,
To be believed as
Gospel
•
nowadays.
God still (as heretofore) calls vulgar men
To speak his will to
Princes,
now and then:
Yea, to delude the
World,
or to deride
Her arrogant vain glory, and her p
•
iee,
God checks her oft, by those of whom we see
She most of all disdains reproved to be:
Th
•
t, so her loftin
•
sse he may debase,
And to the lowly minded show his grace.
It pe
•
adventu
•
e may be though
•
I come
With nothing else but gleaning
•
, gathered from
The common
Rumors,
(which I fain would s
•
r
•
w
Abroad again, to publ
•
sh what I know)
But, let me
•
judge their pleasures: I am free
From those poor ends; and, so still hope to be.
In this, I moved not, of
•
ine own
•
intent,
Nor am I, SIR, by any
Mortall
sent:
More strong is my
Commission.
And, what e're
It seems to those who una
•
quainted are
With God's
Characters,
a
•
d his
Privy seal,
The
Times
to come shall openly reve
•
le
What these perceive not; and, it shall be seen,
That I have warrantably called b
•
ene.
Mean time my
Cons
•
ience
knows I have not run
With rashness into that which I have done;
But, rather that I maugre mine own will,
Was roused up, and spurred onward still,
In this performance; when my
Cowardice,
My
Sloth,
my
Pleasures,
or my
Ava
•
ice,
Or worldly
Po
•
icie
•
,
their b
•
its did lay,
To tempt and draw my heart another way.
Yea, so untoward was I
•
o conform
My
Will,
this uncouth
Action
to perform,
That, many times I quite gave off to do
What I ha
•
vowed, and set hand unto.
For, had not God by
terror
•
▪ wants, distraction
•
▪
And crossing all those temporal
hopes
and
actions
Which I attempted, since I first began
This task: or, if he had not now and than
Among those lashes, mixed comfortings,
And apprehensions of diviner things
Then flesh and blood informeth (as, no doubt,
This Book will prove to some who read it out)
I neither should have known what I have told,
Nor dared in these times to be so bold.
For, when the
World
can tempt me for a day,
To cast such
Meditations
quite away,
(And plod, as others do▪ in her affairs,)
My
Courage,
and my
Comforts,
it impaires.
And, if I happen then, to overlook
Some passages in this ensuing
Book,
I wonder at their boldness, just as mu
•
h
As he, whose heart had never such a touch:
And, till by reading them, new fire I take,
My own
Expressions,
me do fearful make.
Yet, here are poor and slender things, to that
Which of these
Times,
time coming will relate:
Fo
•
though my
Fortune
hath obscured me,
Y
•
t in all matters might it fitting be
For me to speak my knowledge of those things
Which to my ear and eye,
Occasion
brings,
So many sad Rel
•
tions I could make,
That every ho
•
est Re
•
ders heart would ache;
And think this
Nation
fo
•
lish, (if not mad)
O
•
, that all Reason quit
•
forsook us had.
Yea, had I means to prove to every man,
What to my own experience prove I can;
Or were it meet, in public to declare
All things which known, and unconsidered are;
My
Muse
would make, perhaps even those to grieve,
(And tremble too) w
•
o do nor yet believe,
Nor care to know how desp'rately diseas'd
This
Land
is grown. How ever they are pleased
Who have distempered it; to you I trust
I
•
shall not be distasteful, that I must
Dilate my mind a little, in such wise,
That you may see how sick your
Kingdom
lie
•
.
For, that alone which fits me to disclose,
And what's already known to friends and foes
My
Verse
discovers. Yea what to conceal
More h
•
rmes, then profiteth your
Commonwealth,
Is here in part comm
•
moriz'd, to show
That we con
•
ider not the things we know.
And, if I shall miscarry for declaring
These ne
•
dfull
Truths,
(and, for this honest darin
•
)
A rush I care not. F
•
r, I'd rather die
Alo
•
e, before th
•
se days of misery
That s
•
eeme to be approaching (and for saying
What (being beeded) might procure the staying
Of universal
Plagues)
then live and perish
With fools, who do themselves for slaught
•
r nourish.
I am no
Statesm
•
n,
neither (by pretence
Of having gotten large intelligence)
Would I insinuate for more esteem
Then I d
•
serve; or, to deserve may seem.
But, being set on such a middling
height,
Where I (by God's permission) have the sight
Of many things (which they shall never see
Who far above, or far below me be)
What I observe, I ponder, and compare;
And, what I think may profit, I declare.
I therefore hope, what e're the pe
•
s
•
n s
•
eme,
The matter sh
•
ll procure it self est
•
eme:
And, mak
•
this age to know, there's majesty
In simplest
Truth;
and such authority
As will command regard, though want it shall
Those glorious garbs which falsehood jets withal.
I hope to see all Virtue shine in
You;
And that your good example will renew
Decaying
Piety.
I likewise hope
That these
Remembrances
shall find no stop
By your appointment, nor by any power
Which taketh her authority f
•
om yaur.
For, when it shall be seen, that you give way
To publish
T
•
is:
your people justly may,
(And will) affirm, that you are still the same
They hoped of you: that you also blame
As much as any, what disordered is;
And, that you se
•
ke to mend what's found amiss:
Yea, they that else will storm and vex to see
My Lines, thus
•
old, w
•
ll calm and quiet be.
However;
I have said,
and,
I have done
;
Let what God pleaseth follow thereupon.
My heart is fixed; and I up have taken
Those
Resolutions,
th
•
t will stand unshaken,
(I t
•
ust) though
Earth
should sink, and all the
Sphere:
Come thundering down in flames about my ears.
Which
Hopes
of mine▪ some will, perchance deride,
And fo
•
le themselves, to see my patience tried
By what they can inflict, (unless you stay
That rage, to which my
Verse
provoke them may)
But, see your Honor be not wron
•
ed by it,
And, l
•
t them do their w
•
rs
•
; for I defy it:
Because I know, what e're the spite of man▪
Aga
•
nst this
Poem,
speak or practice can▪
It shall continue, when all those be rotten,
Or live with inf
•
my, or dyeforgotten,
Who shall oppose it. I moreover know,
That, dead, or living, I esteemed shall grow,
For what t
••
y blame. That Genius tells me this,
Which never yet persuaded me amiss,
And, I believe him: Else let me become
Of all as scorned, as I am now of some.
Yea, if they ever drive me to repent,
That honest min
•
e with which I under-wen
•
This Labor; Let the wishes of my Foes
Befall me, and let everyone of those
Who either hear me named in future ages▪
Or shall p
•
rceive, I failed in my
Presages,
Be bold to say, my heart was never ri
•
ht,
But, that I lived and di'de an HYPOCRIT
•
Your Majesty's most loyal Subject, and most humble Servant, GEO: WITHER▪
A Premonition.
STay Reader, and take a few lines by way of prevention: For, though in mere temporal en • eavo •• , I observe with Solomon, that, The race is not to the sw • ft, nor the battle to the strong, nor bread to the w • se, nor riches to men of understanding nor favo • r to men of skill, but that time and chance cometh to all ; yet, I know every man is to prosecute likely means of convenient things. And, though Ignorance wax • th so arrogant, and Art so envious, that after much pains in some good performance, we must otherwhile take as much more to prevent misconstructions (and think ourselves well rewarded, if at last we may escape▪ without a mischief • ) ye • , since it is the common lot, I will • ear i • p •• iently▪ and seek to avoid as many inconvenienc • s as I may.
It is impossible to prevent all: for▪ some out of mere malice practice the disparagement of every labor whereby the glory of God may seem to be advanced; and if on the Work they cannot fasten their Detractio • s, then they will, to disable it, vilify the person of the Author. This was the conspiracy of the Jews against Jeremiah, (Come, (said they) let us devise devices against him, let us smi • e him with the tongue, and let us not give heed to any of his words.) And this way also in so violent a manner have I been persecuted, as if my Disgrace might advance the public Honor.
Against my MOTTO, though (as I • orespake) it redounded to their own shame, so raged my Adversaries, that not content with my personal troubles, they sought the disparagement of that Book, by a libellous answer the • eunto: wherein, I was used as most writer • of Controversies, in these days, use each other: To wit, they objected what I never thought, and then made replies to their own devices▪ which being finished, was imprinted with an inscription fall • lie cha • ging me, with laboring to stay the publication thereof; and then also, it was very gloriously fixed on the gate of my lodging, as if it had been some bill of Triumph. Bu • , it proved a ridiculous Pamphlet, and became more loss and disgrace unto the divulgers thereof, then I desired; and, non • thought th • worse of me o • that Book for those Invectives, save they only, whose commendations would be more dishonor to me, then their dispraise.
Hereby, therefore, I seek not so much 〈◊〉 p • even • the like injury to my person, as to remove those occasions of prejudice, which scandalous censures may raise in some other, who might else, perhaps, re • eive the more profit from this REMEMBRANCER: And what I will say to that purpose shall be very brief.
First (in regard my aim in this Poem, is chiefly God's glory, and the welfare of this Church and Commonwealth ) I desire I may no •• e traduced, though I have here and there inserted some lighter expressions, then seem at first view to become the gravity of the Subject: For, (considering the common vanity, and how tedious matters of most consequence are unto some ears) it is necessary, and by good authority warrantable, to make use of all indifferent means, to work on human infirmities, for our hearers profit.
Secondly, I request that wherein I differ from the vulgar Tene • s, I may not rashly be rep • oved; but that my affirm • tions, may with all their due circumstances, be first wei • hed: For, otherwhile the • e is just occasion to hyperbolize. And, as he that rectifying a crooked staff, bends it somewhat on the • t • er side: so, in many cases, we are constrained to urge that which appears over much on the right hand, before those who are too • ar on the left hand, will believe they are ought awry. Thus did the Fathers of the Church when they had to do with some Her • tikes, and have been thereby mis understood▪ and mis-censured by heedless Readers. In the same manner have my writings been abused; yea, my hearers have been so hasty, that had I not explained myself to be of their opinion, within some few lines after, doubtless they would have robbed me of my own meaning. But, they who well heed what I affirm or deny, will find (I hope) that I keep a middling path betwixt extremes.
If any conceive (as I hear they do) th •• I did unwisely to remain in London during the great M • r • ality here memorized, • et them pe • use the third Canto, and they shall there see▪ what Mot • ves and what warran • I had for so doing. I think it will satisfy them; for, so well it satisfied me, that (whatsoever others may imagine) I know it had been better I should háve perished in that sickness, then to have had a heart disobedie • t to such motions.
If any • axe me for inse •• ing so many Lines concerning my own thoughts and resolu • ions; let them conside • what use some Readers may make by application to themselves; by having my inwa • d co • flicts for their examples; and by seeing also what nec • ssities • here were for me to strengt • en myself both a • ainst the woe • ld, and against my • wne f •• ilties, (in my hazardous undert • kings) by expo •• ul •• ing wi • h my heart, what my conscience could say, for it self▪ Let them, I say, consider what in this kind is cons • derable, and then, perhaps, those personal relations will not seem imper • inent.
If question be made, by what authority, I took on me to write this Islands REMEMBRANCER : in the fif • h Canto, and in some other places of this Book, they sh • ll find mention of my Commission ; And if they be not thereby persuaded, that I have a good Authority, it will be through their ignorance▪ and no • aul • of mine. Those Mercies and Judgments of God's which I memorize, are such as this Kingdom is generally witness of. The Sins I reprove, are none but those which were, and are notoriously committed: I have reprehended them ìn such manner, as God's holy Word, and the universal law of Nature hath warranted in all ages. I have foretold what shall come upon such Transgressors, according to the predictions of the Prophets. I have assured, upon Repentance, those ble • sings which God himself hath promised. I have confirmed all my own Resolution • by the divine Covenant, and that working of the bl • ssed Spirit, which I have a feeling of in my own heart: And, if in these things I be de • eived, I know not who hath power to make me confident of anything in this life.
If any dislike my personating God (as in the first Canto) let them search, and they shall find it usual not only in Christian Poems, but also in the holy Text. And if we introduce him according to his A • tr • butes, and speaking according to what in his written word he hath already spoken, it may be justified. If my personating Mercy and Justice, or my creating of other Objects representative, or my Method, or my Phrase, or any such like, seem offensive; my Muse ha • h apologized for her self, as much as I think need • ull, in many places of this Book as occasion is offered, especially in the second, fi • th, and eighth Canto's.
• f the Poem seem too l • rge, or the particulars to be over tediously insisted upon; consider, in how many impertinent and t • ifling discourses and actio • s the best of us do consume f • rre more hours th • the perusal of this • equires minutes, and yet think it no tediousn • sse: and let them call to mind how m • ny huge Volumes this age imprints and reads, which are foolish, if not wicked: let them remember also, tha • our whole life is l • ttle enough to be employed in the meditation of what is here recorded. Let them be persuaded likewise, that I have not written t • is for those who have no need thereof, or to show my own wit or compendiousn • sse, but to wa • ne and instruct the ignorant; to whom I should mor • oft • n speak in vain, i • I did not otherwhile by r • pe • itions and circum • ocutions, stir • e up their affections, and beat into their unders • andings, the knowled • e and feeling of those things which I deliver. Yea, let them know, that I know those expressions will be both pleasing and profitable to some, which▪ they imagine to be needless, and supe • abundant; and that I h • d rather twenty nice Critics should censure me for a word here and there superfluou • ▪ then that one of those other should want that which might explain my meanings to their capacities, and so make frustrate all my labor to those who have most need of it, and for whom it was chiefly intended.
If you find anything which may seem spoken ou • of due Time ; blame not me altogether; for, it is above two years since I labored to ge • this Book printed; and it hath cost me more money, more pains, and much more time to publish it, then to compose it: For, I was fain to imprint every sheet thereof with my own hand, because I could not get allowance to do it publicly: so unwilling are we of Remembrancers in this kind.
If you find ought else that may be doubted of, or for which I may seem reprovable, or needing advice; let me christianly and charitably receive intell • gence thereof: And if I make not a reasonable defense, I will humbly acknowledge and give the best satisfaction for my errors, that I am able. So, I commit you to the blessing of God, and • o the per •• all of this REMEMBRANCER, if you please.
Geo: Wither.
BRITTAN'S REMEMBRANCER.
Canto the first.
Our
Author
first with GOD begins;
Describ
•
s his anger for our si
•
nes;
Of all his
Judgments
mus
•
er makes;
Declar
•
s how
Mercy
under
•
aches
The pleading of this Kingdom's Ca
•
se,
To bring G
•
d's wrath unto apawse;
And (for the common
•
eader) suits
High things, with lowly
Attrioutes.
Then, steps into a praisefull strain
Of
CHARLES
his new-beginning Reign;
Empl
•
res that well-suc
•
e
•
d be
〈◊〉
,
And, for his weal
〈◊〉
•
ercy
pr
•
y.
He
Iusti
•
e
all
•
o, in
•
roduces,
Complaining on our gross abuses,
Who proveth so, our si
•
full
Nation
To merit utter Desolation,
That all God's
Plagues
had
•
s encl
•
sed,
If
Mercy
had not
•
nterposed.
But, after pleading of the case;
With
Justice, Mercy
do
•
h embrace,
Who (that our sins may pun
•
sht be)
To send the
Pestilence
agree;
Their oth
•
r: Plagues a while suspending,
To prove how that will work amending.
ONe
Storm
is past, & though some cl
•
uds appear,
A peaceful air becalmes our Hemispheare.
That frighting
Angel
whose devouring blade,
Among the People such ahavock made,
Is now departed, and hath took from hence
His pois'ned Arrows of the
Pestilence.
God smoothes his b
•
ow; and lo, we no
•
obtain
The cheerful brightness of hi
•
•
ace again.
Oh, boundless
Mercy!
what a change is this▪
And what a joy unto my heart
〈◊〉
is!
Run quickly
Mus
•
▪ to carry thy
Oblation
;
And, (twixt that
Angel,
and the
Congregation)
Some swee
•
perfume to our
Preserver
bu
•
ne,
Before that bloody
Messenger
return.
•
Let all affairs keep of
•
, and give thee way;
For, though my fair
•
t outward
Fortunes
lay
This hour at spoil, I would not be advised▪
To speak for them, till I had sacrifis'd;
Nor will I, to the world, one line allow,
Till I have made p
••
formance of my
Vo
•
.
Most awful
Power,
by whom hath formed
•
in
The Globe of Heaven and Ear
•
h, and all
•
herein;
Thou
Alpha,
and
Omega
of my Songs,
To whom all glory, and all fame belongs;
To thee, thrice holy and Almighty King,
Of
Iu
•
g
•
meant,
•
nd of
Mercy,
now I sing.
Thou hast unclos'd my lips, and I will raise
My thankful v
•
ice in setting out thy pr
•
ise:
Thou hast pr
•
served thy Children in the flame,
And we ascribe the glory to thy
Name:
Thou saved hast thy people from
•
heir crimes;
And, here, I publish unto
•
uture Times,
What I have s
•
ene. Oh! le
•
my
Poem
be
A sanctified
Sacrifice
to t
•
ee.
Acce
•
t this poor
Oblation
I prefer▪
These drams of
Incens
•
,
and these drops of
M
•
r
•
h,
(Which fired in Afflictions Flame, perfume
Thy sacred
Altars)
graciously assu
•
e▪
And give my Lines a date to last as long
As there are speakers of our
En
•
lish
tongue▪
That Children, yet unborne, may read the Story
Which now I sing, to thy pe
•
petuall glory.
And, hark ye
People:
hearken you, I pray,
That were preserved with me to see this day;
And listen you that shall be brought upon
This
Stage
of action, when our
Scaene
is done:
Come hearken all; and let no soul refrain
To hear; nor let it hear my words in vain.
For, from the
•
laughter-house of
Deat
•
,
and
•
ro
•
The habitations of the
Dead
I come.
I am escaped from the greedy Iawes
Of
Hell,
and from the furious
Lions
paws;
With sorrows I have lodged; and I have
Experience in the horrors of the
Grave
;
In those discomfor
•
s which, by day, assail;
And those black terrors which, by night, prevail:
Despair,
with her grim Furies, I have seen;
Spectator of God's
Justice
I have been;
And, passing through God's
Judgments,
had a sight
Of those his
Mercies
which are infinite:
And here, I tell the world what I observed▪
For, to this purpose is my soul preserved.
That fatal
Yeare,
in which the forward
•
pring
Be
•
ame an
Autumn
to our peaceful
King
;
When
James
his Crown and Scepter did forgo,
That
Charles
(of whom this Kingdom hopeth so)
Might show, when he did wear hir Diadem,
How worthily we placed our hopes on him▪
Yea, when within the compass of one hou
•
e,
Two
King
both had, and had not,
•
gall power▪
Even then, by
Thames
fair Banks▪ I did reside,
Where her swe
•
t waters washeth every
Tide
The spacious verge of that well peopled
Town,
Which with most princely Palaces doth crown
Her goodly
stream,
and at her
Ports
and
Keys,
Take in the wealth of Kingdoms and of Seas.
Our sovereign
City,
then I did espy
Upon the couch of soft security;
And, how with Peace and Plenty being fed,
She toyed like a wanton, on her bed.
I saw her dressed in all that rich attire,
Which doth inflame her
Lovers
with desire;
And how her idle Children, every day,
Sate down to eat, and drink, and rose to play.
For, she was grown insensible of cares;
She had almost forgot
•
en, sighs, and tears;
And all this
Island
in her cup of
Pleasure,
With her had quaf
•
ed (so much out of measure)
Till they gr
•
w drunk together through excess,
And wild and giddy in their drunkenness▪
They h
•
d almost forgotten him, from whom
Their ease and their prosperity d
•
d come.
They spent their hours in laughter and in song,
And grew regardless of the poor man's wro
•
g.
They always clothed went in soft array;
They fed themselves with dainties, day by day;
And, that no outward mean
•
of pleasure might
Be wanting to accomplish their delight,
Those iollities, wherein they did appear,
Were furthered by the season of the year.
The
winds
then breathed on them wholesome air
T
•
e
G
•
oves,
th
•
ir su
••
er clothings did repair;
The frui
•
full
F
•
eld
•
wit
•
f
•
esh gr
•
ene gowns were clad,
Which
Flor
•
curiou
•
lie embroidered had:
The pleasant
G
•
rdens
their choice plaints displayed,
〈◊〉
Orch
•
rd
with gay blossoms wore arraid;
The winged
Choristers
did sweetly sing,
And with choice Music welcome in the
Spring
:
Their
streets
with m
••
chlesse bravery did shine;
Their
Parlers
many beauties did enshrine▪
Their costly
Bowres
with rarities were hung,
And always filled with a merry throng▪
Of naught but sports & triumphs were their dreams
Wealth, health & honor, were their studied theam
•
s
No noisome
Plagues,
within their Gates were found,
Of Grones, their dwellings did but rarely sound▪
Nor was there
••
y storm or danger feared:
For, in this
Hemisphere
so bright appeared
New
CHARLES his wane,
that sunlike he did chase
All fogs of discontentment from each place,
And, all those clouds of grief, expelled far,
Which rose at settin
•
of our
JACOB Star.
But, oh how
•••
stlesse are those lying shows
Of happiness, on which most men repose
Their greatest confidence? And from our fight
How swiftl
•
did these pleasures take their flight▪
For, whether he, who from his heavenly
sphere
Behold
•
h all our though
•
s and actions here,
Did with a searching ey
•
, examine more
Our cours
••
at that present then before:
Or, whether he our carelessness had cyde,
Or our hypocrisy, or else our pride,
O
•
our impiety; or wh
•
th
•
r he
Did in this
Island,
or this
Kingdom
see
Our old Idolatr
•
es come creeping in;
Or, whether he some new devised sin
Descride to sprout among us here; yea, whether
It were someone of these, or all together,
Or what it was, I know not: But it proved.
A
crying s
••
ne
; and so extremely moov'd▪
God's gentleness
•
that angry he became;
His brows were bended, and his eyes did flame.
Me thought
•
saw it so: and (though I were
Afraid within his presence to appear)
My Soul was raised above her common station;
Where what en
•
ues I viewed be
Contemplation.
There is
•
spacious
Round
which bravely rears
Her
Arch
above the top of all the
Spheres,
Until her bright
Circumference
doth rise
Above the r
•
ach of Mans, or Angels eyes;
Conveying through the Bodies christalline
Those Rayes which on our lower Globe do shine,
And, all the great and lesser
Orbes,
do lie
Within the compass of that
Canopy.
In this large Roome of State is fixed a Throne,
From whence the wise
Creator
looks upon
His workmanship; and thence doth hear and see,
All sounds, all pl
••
es, and all thi
•
gs that be.
Here sat the
King of God's
; and from about
His eye-lids, so much terror sparkled out,
That every circle of the Heavens it shook,
And all the World did
•
remble at his look;
The prospect of the
Sky,
•
hat erst was clear,
Did with a low
•
ing countenance appear:
The troubled
Air,
before his presence
•
led;
T
•
e
Earth
into her bosom
•
hrunk her head;
The
Dee
•
s
did ro
•
re; the
Heights
did stand amazed;
The
Moon
an
•
Stars
upon each other gaz'd;
T
•
e
Sun
did stand unmoved in his path;
The Hoast of Heaven w
•
s frig
•
t
•
d at his wrath;
And with a voice which made all Creatures quake,
To this effect, the great ETERNALL spake.
Are we a GOD? and is there power in us
Ta s
•
artle all our whole Creati
•
n thus?
And yet, are we despised, as if these Powers
Were either lesser grown, or none of ours?
Are we, that with our
•
entles
•
breath can blow
All things to nothing, still abused so?
Hath our long suffering hardened so our Foes,
That now our
Godhead
into question grow
•
?
N
•
y (which is worse) have we compassion shown,
Till we are quite neglected of our own?
Is this the
Land
whom we have loved so long,
And, in our love, elected from among
The Heathen
Isles
(and at the first was burl'd
Into the utmo
•
t corner of the world)
That we might raise the glory of her name,
To equal King domes of the greatest fame?
Is this that
Island,
which our love did place
(Within our bosom) in the safe embrace
Of great
Oceanus?
and, garden like
Did whar
•
e about (within her watery
Dike)
With mighty Rocks, and Cliffes, whose tops were higher,
Then any foaming Billow da
•
es aspire?
Is this the
Kingdom,
which our band h
•
th made
The
School
and
Shop,
of every Art, and Trad
•
?
The
Cornucopia
of all needful plenties?
The
Storehouse,
and the Closet of our dainties?
Our
Jewel house,
and
Palace royal,
where
The fairest of our
Loves
maintained are?
Is this the
Cou
•
t
•
y
which our bounty served
With store of bread, when many Lands were starved?
And whom we have pres
•
rved from the spoils
Of Foes abroad, and from domestic b
•
oils?
Are theirs the
Cities,
which do wear the Flag
Of
Peace,
while
Rochelle, Heidleb
•
rg,
and
Prague,
And
•
ll the Christian world engaged are,
In some offensive, or defensive war?
Are their's the
Cities,
to whose fleets were shown,
The pathlesse ways through many seas unknown?
Whose wealthy
Merchants
have encreast their trade
From every
Port
and
Creek,
that we have made?
Whose vessel
•
have, by our protection, gone
Past both the
Tropics,
and through every
Zone,
And made their petty
Villages,
become
Acquainted with more worlds, then ancient
Rome
?
Is this that
people
unto whom we gave,
More lovely Bodies, then most Nations have?
And in whose minds (of our especial grace)
We did the best
•
pproved temper place?
Is this that
People,
whom we did restore
To human shape, when as the
sca
•
let-whore
Had with her charmed Cup of poisned wine,
Tran
•
formed them into Asses, A
•
es and swine?
Did we in pers
•
cution hear their cries?
T
•
ke off, the s
••
les of blindness from t
•
eir eyes▪
Win
•
ke at their follies, when they most offended?
Forebear the punishments
•
hat were intend
•
?
From diverse Plagues inflicted them release?
Make
Europe
stand and wonder at their peace?
Yea▪ save them f
•
om the malice of their
Foe,
When all were like to perish at a blow?
And, grace and fav
•
ur undeserved show,
Wh
•
n they their own dest
••
ction did purs
•
e?
H
•
ve we, these threesc
•
re years and upwards b
•
est
Th
•
ir
Kingdoms
•
rom those troubles that i
•
fest
Most other
States
? And (when their souls had been
Nigh famished else) did we provide a
Queen,
(A maiden
Queen
; with virtues masculine)
To nurse them up in holy Discipline?
Did we provide, when she her cou
•
se had
•
un,
A
King
who favored, what her hand begun?
And now another, who doth both re
•
tore
Those hopes they lost in him, and promise more?
Did we but here, of late, when they had lost
Their
Prince
(that now is
King)
when they almos
•
Despair'd of his return, for evermore,
When he remained on th'
Iberian
shore?
Did we a
•
cept their vows? observe their tears?
Com
•
assionate their jealousies and fears?
And send their
Darling
home, when few did know
Whereon to build a hope it should be so?
Yea, when throughout the world no other power,
Could such a work have compassed but our?
H
•
ve we endured their frowardness so long?
Forgiven and forgotten so much wrong?
Sought after them, when they
•
ad us forsaken?
So of
•
, their count
•
feit Repentance taken?
So many times appa
•
an
•
made unto them,
Wha
•
mischiefs their own
•
oolish projects do them?
Yea, did we freely▪ sundry blessings deign
Vnaskt, which other Lands could not obtain
By labors, vows, and prayers? And have they thus,
For all those benefits requited us?
Is that their vowed thankfulness? Are these
The fruits of all their zealous promises?
Is this their
Piety?
Go, draw together
Thy Forces,
Vengeance:
quickly march them th
••
her,
With all our
Armies;
and consume them so,
That we ma
•
never more displeased grow
At their unkindness; or be cheated by
The feigned weepings of
Hypocrisy.
No sooner had he spoken, but, behold,
An
Hoast
(which he doth always keep enrold,
To execute his wrath) did straight appear▪
And in his awful pres
•
nce mustered were.
So many
Troups,
did
•
ound about him throng,
That, all the woe
•
ld with
Plagues,
was ove
•
hung:
For not a
Judgment
is there, which hath name,
But, thither to attend his
Will
it came.
Sterne visag'd
WAR
(whose very look doth strike)
Came driving on his Charret,
Jehu
like;
Arm'd and beset with holberts, bills, and glaves,
Bows, a
•
rouse, pikes pole axes, darting staves,
Guns, balls of fire, and everything that furthers
The work of
Desolation, Wounds,
and
Murthers.
His prime c
•
mpanions,
The
•
t
and
Rapine
were,
With all those
Vices
wh
•
ch most c
•
uell are.
And at their heels pursu
•
d all those
Bands
Of raging mischiefs, that afflict the
La
•
ds
On which he falls. This is that roaring
Fiend
Who Laws, and Leagues, doth into pieces rend.
This is that bloody
Tyrant,
who over-turns
The goodl'est
Monument
•
,
and spoils and b
•
rnes
The fairest Dwellings. This, is he that raze
•
Renowned Cities, and the strongest places.
This is that sacrilegious Thief, who spares
Nor
Hospital
nor
Temple
▪ neither hears
The
•
uits or cries of
•
ged or of young;
Nor is regardful of men we
•
ke or
•
trong.
The Suckling from his Mo
•
hers breast be snatcheth
And brains it in her sight: The Wife he c
•
tcheth
Even from her Husbands bed▪ and Virgins
•
rom
Their Lovers arms, his Strumpets to become.
A sertile Soil he makes a Wilderness,
And Wolves, and Bears, and Foxes, to possess
Those places, wherein Arts did once abound;
And where have dwelled Nations most
•
enown'd▪
However, he's an instrument of God's;
And usually, the l
•
st of all those rod
•
Which on a thankless
•
Kingdom he do
•
h lay,
Befo
•
e he finally remove away
The mean
•
s of
Grace.
Next him, came sneaking in
Leane
Famine,
with
•
are bones, and pa
•
ched skin;
With deep sunk eyes, with talons over-grown;
With hungry teeth that would have cracked a s
•
one;
And, close behind her, and at ei
•
her hand,
Such Troups did wait, as are at her command.
The crawling
Caterpill
•
rs,
wa
••
full
Flye
•
,
The skipping
Locust
(that in winter dies)
Floods, Frosts,
&
Mi
••
ewes, Blastings, Winds,
&
Storm
•
,
Drough, rav'nous Fowls,
&
Vermin, Weeds,
&
Worm
•
▪
Sloth, Evil busdandry,
and such as those,
Which make a Scarcenesse where most plenty grows.
This is that hungry
Houswife,
who first found
The searching out for meat f
•
om under ground;
To dig up Roots; to relish, well, the taft
Of stin
•
ing Garlic, and of bitter Mast.
She taught poor people
•
ow to fill their mawes,
With Bramble-berries, Hedge-picks, Hips, & Hawes▪
Twas she who finding on the sandy shore
A
•
eape of
Oisters
(all bedaubed over)
First sought within those dirty shells for meat,
Else we had never dared of them to eat;
Nor thought, nor hoped, that so foul a dish
Could bring to table such a dainty fish.
Twa
•
she that learned the
Spaniards
how to dre
••
e
Their
Frogs
; the
Frenchman
how to cook a me
•
se
Of
•
pu
••
y
Mushromes; Germans
how to make
A dinner or a
•
upper on a
Snake
;
Italians
on the slimy
Snaile
to feed;
Our
Irishme
•
to live upon a weed
That grows in Marshes. And I dare to say,
That, but for her, we scarce had heard this day
Of
Caveär,
and twenty such like babbles,
Which
Gluttony
now sets upon our Tables.
The broiling of old shoes, was her device;
And so w
•
s eating Carrion, Rats, and Mice.
Those dainty pallats which could relish no
•
ght
But what was fet far off, and dearly bought,
She so hath d
•••
ed, that they could feed
On mouldy scraps; and beg them too for need.
This
Hag,
hath Towns and Cities famished.
With human flesh, she hungry men hath
•
ed:
She fo
•
cit them hath to suck their horses blood:
To feed on Pigeons dung (instead of food)
And dearly purchase it. Yea, some constrained
To drink their Vrine, when they drought sustained.
Nay, this is that un
•
quall'd cruel-one,
Who urged a
Mother,
once, to kill her
Son,
And make unnaturally that cursed womb
Which gave him being, to be made his tomb.
Even this is
She,
God shield us from her cheer,
And g
•
ant her
Plagueship
never settle here.
The
Pestilence,
moreover, thither brought
Her feared forces, and employment sought.
This is that Nimble
Fury,
wh
•
did stay
Her three and twenty thousand in one day;
And in th'
Assirïan
Camp, to death did smite,
Almost two hundred thousand in one night.
Betwixt an evening and a morning-tide,
From every house a soul she did divide
Throughout the Land of
Egypt
; and could mark
Their eldest-borne, although the nigh
•
were dar
•
.
In little space, she quite hath overthrown
•
Great Cities, and dispeopled many a Town.
She from each other makes acqua
•
ntance run,
Before that any injuries be don
•
;
And of t
•
e po
•
s'ning-
Art
hath found the height,
For, she know
•
s how to poison by conceit.
A
Mantle
wrought with purple spots she wore,
Embost wi
•
h many a
Blaine,
and many a
Sore.
She had a raving
Voice,
a frantic
Lock,
A noys
•
me
Breath,
and in her hand she shook
A venom'd spear, which, where it toucheth, fills
The veins with poison, and distracts, and kills.
Within her
Regiment
are all Diseases,
And every Torment which the Body seizes;
Go
•
ts, Collicks, Lethargies,
and
Apo
•
lexies,
Obstruction,
which the spleen, or stomach v
•
xe
•
;
The
•
ox
of every kind,
•
heumes, aches, Stiches,
Quick-killing
Pleurisies,
and
Scabs,
and
Itches
;
The
Burning-Fever,
who deserveth well
The place of her
Lieutenant-Colonel
;
Consumptions, Gangreeves, Coughes,
and
Squina
•
cie
•
,
The
Falling-evil, Cramps,
and
Lunacies,
(With other such Diseases, many moe
Then I am able by their names to know)
Besides those maladies the Sea procures,
As, sloth-bred
Scurvies,
and mad
Calentures
;
And all those other Griefes, and Sorrowes, which
Those Sicknesses do bring on poor and rich.
But, of that
Hoast
which here is mentioned,
The main
Battalion
was both rang'd and led
By that sly
Prince,
(even that malicious one)
Which in the airy Region hath his throne.
To fu
•
there his designs, he brought in
Lyes,
Extortion, Bribing, Fraud,
and
Perjuries;
With many thousand stratagems beside,
Whose dangerous effects are often tried.
All ravenous
Beasts,
(or rather those of whom
Such Beasts are Emblemes) in his troops did come:
To work his mis
•
hiefes (with amaze and wonder)
He furnished was
•
ith Lightnings, Winds, & Thunder;
Prodigious apparitions, and those sights
Wherewith men's troubled fancies he affrights;
And, thither did (for soul-assaults)
•
epaire
His two black Twins,
Pr
•
sumpt
•
on
and
Despair.
Attended by those manifold
Temptations,
Wherewith he maketh sure the reprobations
Of all obdurate sinners; whom in wrath
Our God, deservedly rej
•
cted hath.
These greedy
Spoilers,
hungry for a prey,
Stood ready, God's commandings to obey:
Who having viewed their well prepared
Bands,
(And pointing out his finger to these
Lands)
Said;
Go ye Plagues.
And (had he not been staid)
Lay waste, that sinful
Realm,
he would have said.
And yet, it seems, these dreadful shows were ra
•
her
The threatenings of a wise and loving
Father,
(To bring his Children to a filial fear)
Then such a wrath as doth in Fo
•
s appear.
For, ne
•
there
Chance,
nor
Time,
no
•
New-desert,
Was interposed on the guilty part:
But, God's own good
•
ess
•
brought the means about
That stopped our
Doome,
before his words were out.
And thus it was. The great
Almighty One
Hath evermore attending on his th
•
one
Two royal Daughters. One of t
•
em is she
That's called
Justice
; and her Emblemes be
An equal
Ballance,
and a flaming
Blade,
To weigh the
Good
their due, and fright the
•
ad
:
And, both with hand and eye she threatens those,
That her uprightness, any way oppose.
The other for her
Hierogliphick
wears
A
Box of Balm,
and in her bosom bear
•
A sucking
Lamb,
(which meek and ha
•
mles creature
Doth somewhat intimate her gen
•
le nat
•
re)
Betwixt her beauteous breasts, a true
Co
•
passion
Erecteth her perpetual habitation;
And, su
•
h a lovely sweet aspect hath she,
That's if
Wrath
saw her,
Wrath
in love would be.
We call her
Clemency.
She o
•
ten makes
Our peace with God, and his displeasure slakes.
This
Princesse,
ma
•
king well with what inte
•
t
Her
Lord
would those great
Armies
forth have sent;
And finding, by that wrath she saw in him,
What
Desol
•
tions
would have followed them;
With tears of pity, to his throne she ran,
To kiss and to embrace hi
•
feet began;
And (whilst his half-spoke sen
•
ence God delaid)
These words, the fair-well spoken
Virgin
said.
Deare,
•
h dear
Fa
•
her!
wherefore frownst thou s
•
?
What fearful thing art thou about to do?
Hold (I beseech thee hold) thou back the doom,
Which from thy lips is now about to come;
And bear
(Dread Sovereign)
hear thy
Handmaid
speak
A word or two, before thy
Justice
wreak
Deserv
•
d vengeance on that wretched place
Which hath so fallen from thy wonted
Grace.
Loo
•
Father
▪ look upon me: it is I,
Thy best-beloved Daughter CLEMENCIE▪
It is I whom thou forget
•
est. I am she
Who in thy bosom lay, beloved of thee
Before all worlds; and had a sov'raignty
O're all thy creatures from eternity.
It is I, at whose entreaty thou wert moved
To send thine only
Son,
thy
best-beloved
(For Mans redemption) to assume the nature,
The form, and frailties, of a sinful creature.
It is I that have presu
•
ed to become
A suitor now, to stay thy heavy d
•
ome:
And, why should I be doubtful to make trial
Of thy regard, or fearful of denial?
In
Judgment,
thou hast promised, oh
Lord!
To thi
•
ke on Me (even in thy w
•
itten word)
Yea, Heaven and E
•
rth have often heard thee say,
Thou nev
•
r woul
••
t, forever, cast away
Thy
Loving-Mercy;
and, I k
•
ow, thou mus
•
And wilt, be found in all thy sayings, just.
But, then, to what intents, do
These
appear?
Why are thy dreadful
Armies
mustered he
•
e?
What fav
•
ur is it possible to show,
Where such a
Rablement
as this, shall go?
Why may not
Pit
•
e
show her self as well
Within the bottom of the low
•
st Hell
As where these revel? Doubtless, these rude
Bands
Will spare nor
Laws
nor
Temples
in those Lands
To which thou send them shalt; but, from each plac
•
Root out (with ev'
•
y present means of Grace)
All outward helps of present knowing thee,
If equal to their hate, their power may be.
And, what if then their breathless fury shall
Leave some few trifles which are temporal?
For what will they reserve them, but to breed
A race of
Infidels?
a wicked
seed,
For them to prey upon? a
Brood,
to whom
The Blessings left Damnation shall become.
Thou hast upon that
Island
(I confess)
Bestowed Favors, great and numberless.
I know that they may justly blush for shame,
To hear how grossly they abuse thy
Name;
Yea, th
•
y now are, and have a long time been,
Growne out of measure sinful in their sin.
Yet, if thou look upon them, thou shalt see
Some there, who bend not unto
•
aal
their knee;
Some left, who for thine honor sirme ha
•
e
••
ood;
Some, who have garments washed in the blood
Of thy unspotted
Lamb:
and some, which bear
Those marks, that Seals of thy free pardon are.
Oh! let not them enclosed w
•
th
Sinners
be,
Nor swallowed up with such who know not thee.
But, for the sakes o
•
those forb
•
are thou, rath
•
r,
The Tares, until thy Harvest thou shalt gather:
So, by those Follies which in them abound,
Thy
Goodness
shall the farther be renowned.
If, therefore, thou this Kingdom shouldst not spare,
Because, repleat with sin her dwellings are,
What
Nation
is there, or what Habitation,
That merits not perpetual reprobation?
Where wilt t
•
ou find a
People,
under Heaven,
Which hath not every way occasion given
Of thy displeasure? Or, what Man is there
That in thy sight could justifi
•
d appear,
If thou shouldst mark him with a frowning eye?
And, what a pretty
Nothing,
then were
I,
If no man lived, that amiss had done,
For me, to exercise my pity on?
Nay, if
Transg
•
ession
had but finite been,
How should thy
Mercies
infinite. be seen?
Though on this Field (which thou hast plow'd & sown
With purest
Wheat)
some wicked-ones have thrown
Their
Tares,
by night; yet, somewhat it hath borne
For which it may be
•
ald thy
Field of Corn.
Thy
Fence
is yet about it; and there stands
A
Fort,
and
Wine-press,
built by thy hands.
There are thy
Sacraments,
thy
Word
divine,
There, is the
School
of Christian Discipline.
There, may the me
•
nes of
Grace
be kept in s
•
ore
For those who will hereaf
•
er prize them more.
Thy poo
•
e
•
fflicted
Servants
▪ thither may
From foreign persecutions fly away;
••
d sheltered in a
Storm,
there s
•
f
•
lie tarry,
As in a
Fortress,
or a
•
anctuary.
But, whither shall they fly when that lies wast?
Where shall thy sacred Oracles be placed?
Or whither with her Son that
Woman
go,
Who by the
Dragon
is pursued so?
I know that if thou please thou canst provid
•
A place for
her,
securely to abide,
Amid the
Western wilderness
•
(and where
Scarce glimmerings of thy favo
•
rs yet appear)
By moulding out the Heathen
Salvages
To be a people far surpassing these.
This,
Lord,
thou couldst effect▪ and make of them
Thy people, whom these most of all contemn.
And, since this
Nation,
in their weal
••
y peace,
Have sent out
Colonies,
but to en
•
rease
Their private gain: since they fair show
•
s have made
Of publishing thy
Gospel
▪ when the
Trade
For cursed lucre (as the Times reveal)
Was chiefest founder of their feigned zeal:
Since they in that, and other things, pretend
Religion,
when tis farthest from their end:
Thou didst but right, if thou shouldst force their se
•
d
To set
•
le on some barbarous Coast for reed;
And, there, thy
Truth,
to those, with sorrow preach,
Whom they neglected, in their weal, to teach.
But, since it were no more for thee to do,
This
Land
to save, and call ano
•
her too,
Then one such work so compass; why I pray
Shouldst thou remove their
Candlestick
away?
Why mayest not Thou, who all compassion art,
Thy people, rather, by thy power convert,
Then quite destroy them? wherefore shouldst thou no
•
Their errors forth
•
f thy remembrance blot,
As heretofore? And always praised be
For that abundant Love, which is in thee?
Why should their Foes and thine, with jeering say,
Now,
•
ow we see our long-expected Day▪
Why w
•
lt thou give them cause to domineer?
Even those, who love not thee, to laugh, and fleere
A
•
their destruction, who, thy
Truth
professed,
(If not u
•
feinedly) in show, at least.
Though t
•
ey have ill-deserved, why should the shame
Of their off
•
nces fall upon thy
Name?
And, thy
Blasphemers
(by thy Peoples fall)
Assume the
•
oldness on themselves, to call
Thy
Gospel
into question? Or, thereby,
T
•
ei
•
shameless falsehoods seek to justify?
Why should the wicked, take occasion from
Th
•
se
•
lagues,
to say▪
Where is their God become?
Where is their power, on which they did r
•
pose?
Where is their
•
aith? where are the hopes of those
Their s
•
rvices?
Oh! for thine own dear sake,
(However they des
•
rve) compassion take.
Deare SIR,
have pity: and, as often, thou
Hast granted my request, vouchsafe it now.
Yea, to those many thousands, heretofore,
From thy abundance, add one favor more▪
By these, and other Motives (breathed from
A zealous breast) the heavens are overcome.
His love of us, doth so our
Sampson
wound,
That, he hath taught us, how he may be bound.
Yea,
Holy-writ
informeth us, that He,
By such like
Charmings,
will compelled be.
And, now they so prevailed, that the rage
Of our great God, they partly did aswage.
Which,
MER
•
Y
by his look, had quickly heeded;
And taking that a
•
vantage, thus proceeded,
Oh! what a co
•
fort is it, to behold▪
Thine Eye speak
Mercy,
and thy Brow unfold
A
reconcilement!
Now, I seem to see
Thy gracious face, to shine again on me.
I find it is the jealousy of
Love,
(And no effect of hatred) which doth mov
•
Thy wronged Patience: and, that when thou hides
•
Thy presence in an angry Cloud, or chidest,
It
〈◊〉
not always in consuming wrath,
(
•
o punish, as the faul
•
deserved hath)
But, that thy frighting
Judgments
might prevail,
To work a
•
endment, when thy
Love
doth fail.
That People whom so much thou didst aff
•
ct,
How canst though
•
have a purpose to reject,
So long as in their Co
•
fines doth remain
That
Number,
which thy Vengeance doth restrain?
Who can believe
•
hat thou defra
•
a'st such cost,
To purchase what, thou meanest shall be lost?
Or, labor to erect them, didst bestow,
For nothing else, but them away
•
o throw?
Why should I think, thy endless▪ goodness, had
So little care, to save what thou hast made,
That
Satan's
Hate, shou
•
d for their Desolation,
Out-work thy Love, in working their Salvation?
Or, that the boundlesnesse of M
•
ns transgression,
Could over-match thine Infini
•
e
Compassion?
It m
•
y not be believed; Or, that this
Pre
•
ended
war,
for final ruin is.
Since, if in summoning thy
Judgment
•
,
now,
Thou hadst proposed their u
•
ter overthrow,
Thou wouldst not have discovered an assection,
•
y still co
•
tinu
•
ng them, in thy prote
•
tion,
As yet thou dost: Nor
•
a
•
lie s
•
nd unto them
Love-tokens,
(as if kindness, thou wouldst do them
Which they should never know of) nor, make show
Os having
•
eft them, when tis nothing so
Thus hav
•
I seen, on ea
•
th, a
Lover
use
His
Best-beloved,
when she did abuse
His true affection. Though he seem unkind
•
,
That her unkindness she may thereby find
•
;
Yea, though he fain some outward disrespec
••
,
Yet, in his he
•
t, so truly he affects,
That, whats
•
ever good, he can, he does her:
By means unscene, to her lost virtues, woe
•
es her:
For h
•
r well-doing, takes a thousand cares:
Of her ill-doing, hath ten thousand seares:
Wakes not, but thoughts of her, in waking, keeps;
Sleeps not, but dreameth of her, when he sleep
•
s.
Not ceasing to end
•
avour,
〈◊〉
he see
Some sparks of lost affection kindled be.
And, as her over sights she doth deplore,
So, he his love discovers, more and more;
Until the fire, that was a long tim
•
bid,
Break forth, and flame as high as e're it did.
I never knew thee, yet, to rui
•
ate
A wicked
Kingdom
•
,
or a sinful
State,
Professing thee; but, thou didst first withdr
•
w
From those Offenders, thy abused
Law.
And, as in Christian
Realms,
the temp'rall Sword
Cuts off no Preacher of thy blessed Word,
(For any Crime committed) until he
Of
Holy-orders,
first degraded be:
So, thou (most frequently) dost first remove
The
Scales
of Grace, and
Pledges
of thy Love,
B
•
fore thou give up
Lands
into their power,
W
•
o them, and theirs, shall finally devour:
For, till thy
holy things,
be fetched from
Th
•
ir Coast, such Desolation shall not come.
Those, they retain. And, if conclude I shall
From hope of any blessing temporal,
That yet thou lovest them (and dost intend
Their
Land,
with future favors, to befriend)
That
King
which thou hast now on them bestowne,
Some token of thy Clemency hath shown.
For, if man may by good external signs,
Conjecture whereunto his heart inclines:
If
Thou,
to whom all secrets open be,
See'st that in him, which mortals hope they see;
And hast not mocked that
People,
sor their sin,
With shows of things that have not real been:
(As
Lord
forbid) No
Kingdom
hath a
Prince,
Whose infant years, gave
•
etter
•
vidence,
•
hat with an earthly Crown he should inherit,
A plenteous portion of thy sacred
Spirit.
None liveth now, on whom the gen'rall eye
Did so much gaze, and so few scapes espy.
F
•
w private men were in their youth so fr
•
e
From all those vanities, which frequent be
In these rude times (he having means to do
His pleasure, and, perhaps, s
•
rong temptings too)
Who seemed of those knowledges, more fain
That might inform him, to
obey,
and
reign
?
How well those crossings was he thought to bear,
Which in the times of his subjection were?
And, with how brave a temper to neglect,
To be avenged of wrongs and disrespect?
•
hat
Son,
did in his Fathers life time, show
•
•
iliall
fear
and
love,
united so?
Or, which of all thy
Vice-royes
d
•
dst thou see
App
•
are more zealously devout then
•
e?
Thou knowest which: But, if they do not err
Who, things by probability, infer,
It might be said,
The world had not his peer
In all those virtues, that are mentioned here.
And should conf
•
ssed be, even of his soe,
They had not flattred who affi
•
med so:
Since, what was of his worth, at home conceive
•
d,
All
Europe
for a verity received.
And lo
•
; now by thy Grace he sitteth on
The seat of Rule, and in his Fathers Th
•
one;
Who giveth signs of truer love to thee?
Or of more conscience, of his
Charge,
the
•
He?
What
Monarke,
in appearance, better preach
•
h
By good
Examples,
what thy
Precepts
teacheth?
Or which of all his reverend
Prelacy,
In shows of true religious constancy,
Outgoes or equals him? Oh! if so clear
His virtues prove▪ as yet they do appear,
How glorious will they grow? And, what a light
Will he become, when he ascends the height
Of his great
Orbe?
And, oh! what pity 'twere
His mind should ever fall below that
sphere
Of
Grace
which he hath climb'd! or, that thy Love
Should wanting be, to keep him still above!
How grievous would it be, that his
beginning
(So hopeful, and such l
•
ve and honor winning)
Should fail that expectation, which it hath?
And, make thee shut thy favor up, in wrath?
Let not oh God! let not the sins of others
Nor any fog (which Virtues glory smothers)
Ascending from his frailties, make obscure
His rising honor, which yet seemeth pure.
If might, in him, be w
•
nting of that worth
Which to the public view is blaz
•
d forth,
Forgive, and perfect him, that he may grow,
To be in deed, what he appears in show.
Yea,
Lord
(as far as human frailty can
Permit the sa
•
e) make him, even such a Man
As now that
Kingdom
needs; and spare that
Nation
For him, which else deserveth Desolation.
〈◊〉
If he be what he seemeth; Thou (I know)
•
ilt save his
Land
from utter overthrow.
Thou, in the life-time of a p
•
ous
King,
Wert never yet, accustomed to bring
Destruction: For, thou shewedst him compassion,
Who did but once, well act humiliation;
•
v'n wicked
Ahab;
and within his Times
Thou wouldst not pun
•
sh (no no
•
) his own Crimes.
Oh! be as merciful, as thou hast been;
And let this
King
▪ thy favors triumph in.
•
et that exceeding Grace already showed him,
(Even that wherewith thy
Spirit
hath indu'd him)
Be
Pledges
of some greater Gifts, with whic
•
Thou shalt in future times, his heart enrich.
His br
•
st inflame thou, with a sacred fire;
Teach him to ask, and give him his desire:
Grant him thy Wìsdome, and thy Righteousness,
The wrongs of all his People to redress.
Let him the Widow, and the Orphan save,
Releeving all, that need of succor have:
And, let his
Mountains,
and each lesser
Hill,
Hi
•
humbler
Dales,
with peace, and plenty fill.
As he was honored in his Preservation,
So, let him glory still in thy Salvation.
As he persisteth to rely on thee;
So, let him sure of thy protection be.
Be thou his only joy. Be thou I pray
His Triumph on his
Coronation-
•
ay.
Crown thou his head with purified gold:
Make st
•
ong his
Scepter,
•
nd his
Throne
uphold,
To be renowned by thy Grace divine,
As long as either Sun, or Moon shall shine.
Since thou to rule thine
Isr
•
el
dost appoint him,
Let thy most holy
Spirit,
Lord, anoint him.
Make thou a league with him, as thou hast done
With
David,
and adopt him for thy
Sonn
•
.
To thee,
Thou art my Father,
let him say,
My God, my Rock of safety, and my stay.
Throghout those
Lāds,
where thou to reign shalt place him
With Title, of thy
First-begotten,
grace him.
And, let his Kingdoms harbor none of them,
Who shall deny him to be their
Supreme.
So guard, and so enclose him with thine Arm,
The
Man of Sin;
may nev
•
r do him harm.
To him, his Adversaries all subject,
And, prosper none that him shall disaffect.
Lead thou his
Armies,
when his
War
begins;
Make thou his
Peace,
when he the Battle wins.
Let still thy
Truth,
and
Love,
with him abide;
Let in thy
Name,
his name be glorified.
Do thou the
Seas
into his power d
•
liver;
Make thou his right hand reach beyond the
River
;
And, plant so strongly on the Banks of
Rhyne,
Those fruitful Branches of his
Fathers
Vine,
(Whom late the salvage
Bore
(with tripled power)
Hath rooted up, with purpose to devour)
That they may spread their Clusters, far and nigh;
And fill, and top, the
Germane
Empery.
Yea, mind thou,
Lord,
the scorn
•
s and de
•
amations,
Which they have borne among their neighboring nations▪
And, please to comfort them, and make them glad,
According to the sorrows they have had.
To them, so sanctify their great affliction,
That it may bring their virtues to perfection;
And, fit them for some place, in which they shall
Help rear again, decaying
Zion's
wall.
Oh! keep for them, a favor still in store;
Preserve them in thy
League,
for evermore;
Bless thou that Race, which is or shall be given:
As lasting make it, as the day
•
s of heaven:
And, if thy
Laws
or
Judgments,
they forsake,
Or, if thy
League,
or
Covenant,
they break,
With Rods, let them, in mercy, be corrected;
But, never fall, for aye, to be rejected.
The like for this new
Monark,
I emplore:
In him, increase thy Graces, more, and more.
Make
•
im a Blessing, for all
Christendom:
Make him, a Pattern, for all Times to come:
Make him, in every happy course persevere;
And, let him live, forever and forever.
His Royal
Robe,
he hath but new put on;
And, I my prayers have but new begun.
Oh let me to thy
Majesty
prefer
These few
Petitions,
in particular:
And place them where, they may both day and night,
Stand, evermore, unfolded in thy sight.
First, teach him, to consider, how and why,
T
•
ou hast enthron'd him on a seat so high▪
And, so to think on his great charge; and trust,
As one who knows he come to reckoning m
•
st:
Fo
•
, honors if by thee they be not blest,
Make wisest men as brutish as a beast.
Teach him to mind, how great the favor wa
•
,
When thou, of thy mere motion, and thy Grace,
Didst from so many millions choose out him,
To wear this
Kingdoms
fourfold
Diadem:
And, make thy
Servants,
favor'd in his sight▪
As thou hast made of him, thy
Favorite.
Teach him, the fittest means to take away
(And let none murmur at his just delay)
Those
Groves,
and those
Hill-Altars
in the Land,
Which suffered are unt
•
ll his days to stand:
And, give him wisdom, wisely to foresee,
That Wheat from Chaff, may well distinguished be.
For, some will, else, bring
Truth
into suspicion,
Condemne good
Discipline,
for
Superstition;
And with fair shows, of Piety, beguile,
That underhand they may encroach, the while,
On God's
Inheritance;
and from her tear
Those outward
Ornam
•
nts
his
Bride
doth wear.
Oh! let him purge from
Church
and
Commonwealth,
Those inflammations of corrupted
zeal,
And indigested humors, which do spread
Distempers through the
Stomacke;
pain the
Head:
And, by prepost'rous courses, raise a storm
To rend that
Body,
which it would reform.
Let him, his
Reformations,
first begin,
Like
David,
with
himself:
and search within
The closset of his heart, what he can find,
Which may annoy him there, in any kind:
And let him thence expel it, though it were,
As dear unto him as his eye-bals are.
His
Household,
let him next inquire into,
And, well informed be, what there they do▪
That, so he may expect thy
Comming-day
With heart upright, and in a perfect way.
Let him in no profaneness take del
•
ght,
Nor brook a wicked person in his sight.
•
e
•
no
Blasphemer
in his presence tarry;
Nor they that falsehoods, to and fro, do carry.
L
•
t him acquai
•
tance with all such refrain
•
;
The lowly cherish; h
•
ughty minds restrain
•
;
Enquire for them that vertuou
•
lie excel,
And take in honest men with him to dwell.
No such
Projector,
who doth put in use
Great Injuries, to mend a small abuse;
Nor such, who in reforming, do no other
B
•
t rob one
Knave,
to help enrich another;
And prove themselves, when trial doth befall,
To be, perhaps, the veriest K
•
aves of all.
Let him be cursed with no base
Officer,
Who doth before true
Honor, Gold
prefer;
And,
•
o enrich his Ches
•
, a little more,
Would in his
Reputation,
make him poor:
Or with some needless Treasure, to supply him,
Lose him more Lo
•
e, then all his
Lands
can buy him.
Let no man of his daily bread partake,
Who at thy holy
Boord
shall him forsake;
And, lay thou open their dissimul
•
tion,
Who shall approve of
Na
•
man's
Tol
•
ration.
K
•
epe from his
Counsels,
though their wit excels,
All
Hypocrites,
and all
Ahithophel's.
Yea, let thy
Wisdom,
hi
•
discretion bless,
From
Rehoboams
childish willfulness,
Who lef
•
his ancient
Princes
good directions,
•
o follow his young
Nobles
raw projections.
Or, if
•
e like their Counsels, and receive them,
Harme let th
•
m bring to none but those wh
•
gave them:
And, if to him some damage they procure,
Let present loss his future peace procure.
Make him perceive that human
Policy
〈◊〉
H
•
nd m
•
id
to rel
••
ious
H
•
ne
•
ty;
And that, the man who doth foundation
•
lay
On
Justice,
(and proves co
•
stant in his w
•
y)
Shall mad the
Politician;
and
•
ache vain
His underminings without fear
•
, or pain.
For, as a
Fowler
seldom doth su
•
prize
That wary Bird, which can her s
•
lfe suffice,
With what thy
•
and provideth in the fi
•
lds,
Or, what the
•
orrest, for h
•
r die
•
yields:
So, sl
•
ights of
Policy
(although, perchance,
They seem, a while, to work some hindrance)
Can disadvantage no
•
e, but those, who leaving
The paths of
Virtue,
and themselves deceiving
With some false hopes (which were before them laid)
Made them the means, whereby they were betrayd.
Make him as precious in his
Peoples
eyes
As their own blood. Far higher let them prize
His honor then their fortunes; and let him,
Be every way as tender over them.
Yea, let the mutual love, betwixt them bred,
Unite them as the
Body,
and the
Head.
•
or, such a blessed
Union
doth procure
More saf
•
ty then four Kingdoms can assure;
Commands men's hearts, their fortunes, and their lives,
Is chief of all his chief
Pre
•
ogatives;
And shall more comfort, and more profit do him,
Then all those frui
•
less claims can bring unto him;
Whereto, perchance, they urge him will, who shall
Pretend his honor, when they seek his fall.
Such men in
Princes
Courts were
•
ver found,
But, thou their l
•
wd
Projections
wilt confound;
And, when their vain devise b
•
ing on them,
Confusion, w
•
o thi
•
r
•
all Truth contemn;
When such men's fool
•
sh counsels, shall have brought
Th
•
se mischiefs o
•
them which thei
•
hands have wrou
•••
(Yea, when oppressed, with fears and discontent,
They shall, too late, perhaps, their course repent)
Then, they in heart shall forced be to say,
That, what they slighted was the safest way.
Bless him from those, who censure his
Intents,
His
Counsel
•
,
or his
Actions
by events:
An
•
saw
•
ily, his Judges dare appear
On every sla
•
d'rous Rumor they shall he
•
e.
Preserve him from those
Minions
(who do raise
Their credits by another man's dispraise)
That Machivillian crew, who to endear
Their base immerits, fill the royal ear
With tales, and false reports, concerning those
Who their misdoings legally oppose:
They, who gr
•
wne great with rapine, and made strong,
With w
•
alth extorted to the public wrong,
Still add (to cover what misdone hath been)
New w
•
ongs; and make new partners in their sin,
In hope their number
•
eep them shall unshent:
And, silence and condemn the Innocent.
Make him ab
•
or such
Apes,
and such
Baboones,
As
Parasi
•
es,
and impudent
Buffoone
•
:
Such, as would make their
Princes
glad with lies:
Such, as with filthy tales of ribaldries,
With
•
curvile songs, with unbese
•
ming j
•
sts,
And stuff which every civil
•
are detests,
Abuse Kings Chambers. Let all those who buy
Their
Offices
(which is lay Simony)
H
•
ve always his dislike; and not recover
His good esteem again, till they give ove
•
Their evil gotten places. Let all such
Who for the seats o
•
Judgment,
do as much,
A
•
peare to him as men who are detected
Of
〈◊〉
crimes; and ever be suspected
Of some Corruption: for, it may be thought,
That money must be made of wh
•
t is bought.
Let him the causes of
Abuse
discern;
Let him the cure of every mischi
•
f
•
learn;
Let him of what he know
•
h, practice make;
Let all his
People,
his example take.
Give them repentance for their passed crimes;
As
•
ist them by thy grace, in future times;
And send thy
Holy-Spi
•
i
•
through their
Lands,
To keep them in the way of thy
Commands.
So, thou in their Devotions wilt
•
e p
•
eased,
So, all thine anger will be quite appeased;
So,
King
and
People,
praise thee shall▪ together;
And, then, thou needest not send these
Armies
thithe
•
.
Thus
MERCIE
spake; & more she would have said
(For, she could everlastingly have prayed)
To this effect. But▪
IVSTICE
having spy'd
God's eye to ma
•
ke, how she seemed satisfied;
(And looki
•
g somewh
•
t sternly, to betoken
That
MERCIE
in her injury had spoken)
Thus interrupted her.
Faire Sister, stay
;
And, do not think to bear my right away
With smoo
•
hed words. Thou art an
Advocate
Well known to be the most importunate
That ever pleaded: and, thou hast a trick
With these moist eyes, beyond all
Rhetoric.
So that, unless I make it still appear,
What gross offenders all thy
Clients
are,
A
Bill
of mine (how just soe're the
case)
Would seldom in this great
Star-chamber
pass.
No
place,
no
pe
•
sons,
are so dissolute,
But if they whine to thee, thou makest suit
On their behalfes. Thou wert
Soliciter
For King
Manasseh
(that Idolater
And gotst his pardon. Thou hast
Proctresse
been
For
Jeroboam
(who m
•
de
Israel
sin)
That hand recuring which he did extend,
The Messenger of God, to apprehend.
Thou art f
•
r any who in thee believes,
Though Tray
•
ers, Strumpets, Murderers, or Th
•
eves.
Thou prayed'st for
N
•
neveh;
yea thou hast prayed
For
Sodom;
and my hand had sure been staid
When I consumed them, if there had been, then,
In five great
Cities,
b
•
t ten righteou
•
men.
I never yet could get a verdict past
On any Sinner, but thou crossed it hast,
Upon the teast repentance. And if
•
ver
To serve an
Execution
I endeavor,
Thou; still, one means or other dost procure,
To mi
•
igate the strictest forfeiture.
Thee, for delaying
Judgments,
I prefer
Even far before the Courts at
Westminster.
And, if I longer these thy deal
•
ngs bear,
Thou here wilt use me, as they use me there.
For, lat
•
lie I survey
•
d it; and saw
Their
Chauncery
had half devoured their
Law.
Sweet
Lady
call to mind, there is a due
Pertaining equally to me and you.
As nothing without MERCIE should be done;
So IVSTICE should
•
not be encroa
•
ht upon.
I claim a
Daughters
part, and I d
•
sire
To keep min
•
own inh
•
ritance in
•
ire.
I, for your sake, huge Armies, often save,
When they had, else, been rotting in the grave.
I suffer you to wipe more sins away
Then twice ten thousand millions in a day.
There's none whom I do punish for his crimes,
B
•
t I doescarre him first, a thousand times
(At your entreaty) when, if I had pleased,
I might so many times his life have seized.
Yea, I should
•
none have injured▪ though I had
Of all the World, long since, a
Bone-fire
made.
For, what effects hath your
Compassi
•
n
wrought?
What Offring
•
, to God's
Altars,
now are brought
By my long sparing them? Nay, have they not
H
•
m, and his awe
•
ull power, the more forgot?
What did I say? forgot him? If they had
Vs'd him and his Indulgence but so bad,
Thou mightest have spoken for them; and I could
Have left thy supplications uncontroll'd.
But, they have aggravated their neglect,
With such base villainies, such disrespect,
And such contempt of Him, of Thee, and Mee,
That if we bear it, we shall scorned be.
They so presumptuous are, that well I know,
Were but a petty-
Justice
used so,
He would not brook it: But, so rough appear,
That all the sin-professing houses near,
Of Reformation would be much in doubt;
And fear they should not buy his Ange
•
out,
Though they presented him with coin and wares;
And b
•
ib'd his
Clarke,
with whom, tis thought he s
•
ares.
I will not the
•
efore palliate their despite;
I will not be debarred of my right;
I will not make myself a public scorn;
Nor will I longer bear what I have borne.
Here with (as if she thought it were in vain,
For Vengeance, unto
MERCIE
to complain)
She raised her eyes; she fixed them upon
The
•
hrone of heaven, and Him that sat thereon:
Then bowed thrice, and, then to her complaint▪
She
•
hus proceeded lik
•
an An
•
ry
Saint
Great
IVDGE
of all the world just, wise, and holy;
Who sin abhorrest, and correctest folly:
Who drivest all uncleanness from thy sight,
And feared art, even of the most upright:
Consider well my Cause, and let thou not
Thy IVSTICE in thy MERCIE be forgot▪
As well as this my
sister,
so am I
Vnited unto thee essentially
Before all
Time;
and there is cause for me
To boast thy favor, full as much as she.
For, to maintain thy
Justice
(and approve
Th
•
t sacred, never violated Love
Thou bearest me) great
Monarkies
have drunk
Thy cup of wrath; and into ruin sunk.
For their contempt of me, thou hast rejected
The Nation, of all Nations, most affected.
Once, thou the
Globe
of Earth didst wholly drown;
From Heaven thou threw
•
st the sinful
Angels
down
•
:
And (which is more) thy
Best beloved
died,
That my displeasure might be satisfied.
But, l
•
t no former favor me avail,
If now of Reason on my side I fail.
I n
•
ver did a
Vengeance,
yet pursue
Before it was required by double due.
I never plagued any in despite,
Nor in the death of sinners took delight.
Why therefore thus is my proceeding staid?
And thy just wrath so suddenly alaid?
Hath
Mercy
their offenses veiled so,
That thou beholdest not what faults th
•
y do?
And wilt thou still continue thy compassion
To this unthankful and forgetful
Nation?
What are they, but a most corrupted breed?
A wicked, a perverse, ungrateful seed?
A
people
•
for instruction so untoward,
So stubborn in their courses, and so
•
roward,
That, neither t
•
reats, nor plagues, nor lo
•
e can mend
•
hem,
And therefore
Desolation
must attend them.
Me they have injured, past all
•
ompare;
They flout me to my face; they me out dare
Even on my
Judgment-se
•
ts;
they truth deny▪
Although they knew, their hear
•
rs know they lie.
They use my
Titles,
and my
Offices,
But as a means to rob, or to oppress
The poorer sort: and he that wrong sustains,
Is sure of more, if he for right complains.
Search thou their Streets, their Markets, & their Courts;
Note where the greatest multitude resorts,
And if thou find a man among them, th
•
re,
That hath of Truth or Judgment any care,
Him let thine
Angel
save. But, thou shalt see
That nothing else from heel to head they be,
But swellings, wounds, and sores: that they are wholly
O'regrowne with leprosies of noisome folly;
And that, among them, there abideth none,
Whose path is right and p
•
rfect, no not one.
Their studies, are in che
•
ting tricks, and shifts.
Their practice, is to compass bribes, and gifts.
Their
silver
is but dross. Their
wine
impure.
Th
•
ir finest
gold,
will not the touch endure.
The
poor
oppress the poor. The
Child
ass
•
mes
An
El
•
ers
place. The basest
Groome
presu
•
es
B
•
fore t
•
e
Noble. Wom
•
n
t
•
ke on them
Men's habits and subjection do contemn.
Men
grow
•
ffemin
•
te.
Age
dotes,
Youth
raves,
The
beggar
's proud. The
rich man,
basely craves.
The
neighbor
of his neighbor goes in danger;
The
brother
to the brother grows a stranger.
There is no kin, but
Cousnage.
Few profess
Affection, Amity, or Friendlinesse,
But to dec
•
ive. If men each
•
there greet,
With shows of wondrous friendship, when they meet,
They do but practice kin
•
lie to betray;
And jeer, and scoff, when th
•
y depart away:
Th
•
y labor, and they study, lie
•
s to make:
To grow more wicked, serious pains they take:
Wolves
are as merciful: Their
Dogs
as holy:
Virtue,
th
•
y count a Fool:
Religion,
folly.
Their
Laws
are but their nets, and ginn
•
s, to take
Those whom they hate, and seek their prey to make:
The patronage of
•
ruth,
no
•
e standeth for:
The way of
Piety,
they do abhor:
They meet u
•
seen, the harmless to
•
eceive▪
They h
•
tch the
Cocatrice:
They s
•
ely weave
The
Spiders
web; and, when in bed they a
•
e,
They lie and study pl
•
ts of mischief
•
here.
And, why thus fares it? b
•
t, because they see
That (how unjust soe're their Courses b
•
)
They prosper in t
•
eir wicked nesse, and
•
hrive,
Whilst th
•
y who honor thee a
•
fl
••
ted live.
If any man reprove their damned way,
They persecute, and slander him, and say;
Come, let us smite him with our tongue, that he,
And his reproofs, may unregarded be.
They desp'rately resolve a wicked Course;
And, every day proceed from bad▪ to woe
•
se.
Themselves they sooth in evil: and profess
In public manner, Trades of wickedness▪
They impudently boast of their Transgressions,
And madly, glory in their great Opp
•
essions.
Yea, some so far have
•
ver-gone the Devils
In shamelesnesse, that they make brag of evils
Which they committed not (as if th
•
y feared
That else they had not lewd enough a
•
p
•
ar'd)
Whereas, they from themselves would strive to fly,
If they could s
•
e their own defo
•
mity.
For, what remaineth to be termed ill
Which they are guil
•
less of, in act, or will?
Th
•
y,
gall
unto the hungry prof
•
r'd have:
They,
vine
•
er
unto the thirsty gave:
With brutish fierceness they themselves array:
Vnsatisfied in their lust are they,
And neither earth nor heaven escapes the w
•
ongs
Of their injurious and blasph
•
mous tongue
•
.
With every
member,
they dishonor Thee,
No part of them from wick
•
dnesse is free:
Their
Eyes,
are wandering after vanity,
And l
•
ere about, advantages to spy.
Their
Ears
are deaf to goodness; but most pro
•
e
To hear a sl
•
nder told of any one:
And h
•
ve an itching after every thin
•
,
Which, news of sensuality, may bring.
Their braz
•
n
Foreheads,
without shame appear:
Their
Teeth
are sharper then a sword o
•
spear:
Their
Lips,
as keenly cut, as Razors do;
And, under them, is Add
•
rs poison too.
Their
Mouthes
with bitter cu
•
sings, over-flow:
Their oily
Tongues,
contention dail
•
sow:
In
Heart,
they Falsehood before Truth, prefer:
Their
Throats,
are like a gaping Sepulcher:
Foule belchings from their
Stomacks
do arise,
Even filthy speeches; and rank bl
•
sphemies.
Their
Hands
(their right hands) lawless gifts receive:
With Bribes, their
Fingers,
they defiled have.
Their
Feet,
are swift in executing ill,
And, run the blood of innocents to spill.
They are corrupt in every Facultie;
In
Vnde
•
standing, Will,
and
Memory;
Yea, th
•
ir most specious works of
piety
Are little else, but mere hypocrisy.
All stained with Murthers, Thef
•
s, Adulteries,
And other unrepented Villanies
Thy
House
they enter, as if they were cle
•
re,
Or, thither came, but to out brave thee there.
There, they display their pride: there, they contemn
Thy
Messengers
▪ or, sit and censure them.
There, they disturb thy Children in their pray'rs,
By tattling of impertinent affairs.
The many roving looks, they throw about,
Do prove them, far more wanton, than devout.
And, say, they bring devotion for a fit:
Alas! what pleasure canst thou take in it?
Or, what do they but mock thee, when they pray,
Unless their wickedness they cast away?
What profits it, to kneel sometime an hour?
To fast a day? to look demure, or sour?
To raise the hands aloft? the breast to strike?
To shake the head, or hang it Bulrush like?
And, all that while to have no thought of thee;
But on base projects, musing, there, to be?
I many such enormities might name,
Wherein this People have been much to blame.
And, shall they still, thy gentleness contemn?
Wilt thou forbear, for this, to punish them?
Shall such devotion be regarded more,
Then if they brought the
•
yring of a
whore?
Or sacrificed a
Dog?
Nay, though they had
Of far fet
Calamus
an Offring made,
Or, incense brought from
Sheba;
do they think
The smoke of that, shall take away the stink
Of their corruption? shall this wicked Throng▪
(Who partners are in every kind of wrong,
And
Reformation
hate) still spared be
Because they can a little prate of thee?
Make zealous outward shows; and preach thy word,
Whose power they have denied? (if not abhor'd:)
Let me consume them rather. For,
Compassion
So often hath prevailed for this
Nation,
That, all my threatenings are no whit regarded,
Thy Pittìe is with disrespect rewarded;
Thy Blowes do nothing soften them: but, more
Hard hearted, rather, make them then before.
They neither know nor s
•
eke thee. They scarce deign
So much as thoughts of thee to entertain.
Or if they do; yet, thou in kindness, hast
So frequently, their errors over past
With gentle stripes; that they conjecture, now
That thou art like to them, and dost allow
Their wick
•
d courses. For,
Is there
(say they)
In God, or sight, or knowledge of our way?
Doth he behold, or car
•
what things we do?
Will he take vengeance? Tush, it is not so.
Such fables were devised in times of old,
And of strange judgments, stories have been told;
But, who hath seen them? or, when will appear
That Day of Doome, whereof so oft we hear?
Sure never. For the woe
•
ld doth still remain
The same it was; and these are fears in vain.
Oh! what will this increase unto, if thus
Thou suffer them to make a scorn of us?
Where is thy fear, if thou a
Master
be?
Why, (if a God) should they not honor thee?
What means thy long long-suffering? and, what way
To work amendment wilt thou next assay?
Thou hast already moved them to repent,
By
Threats, Gifts, Precepts,
and by
Punishment.
To stop their wi
•
kednesse, thou
Flouds,
and
Drought,
Frosts, F
••
es,
and
Tempests,
hast upon them brought.
Distempers, F
•
ights,
and (many times of late)
Distrusts,
and hazards of the public
State.
With every kind of
Sickness,
thou hast tried them;
With
Pestilence,
and
Famine,
mortifi'd them:
With
Slaughters
•
hou has
•
foild them; and betwix
•
Each
Plague,
thou
Mercy
still hast intermixt▪
Yet▪ all in vain. Oh! rise, and suffer me
On all at once avenged now to be.
Plucke from thy bosom, thy sure striking hand,
And, let it fall so heavy on that
Land,
That, all their Follies may their merit have,
And, they be put to silence in the grave.
Permit them not unplagued to persevere,
Blaspheming thus, thy Name and thee forever.
But, l
•
t me every Plague upon them cast,
Which thou, for such as they, prepared hast.
Let them perceive, that they have loved and served
Those
gods,
by whom they cannot be preserved.
Let me transport from their polluted Coast,
Those
Holy-things,
whereof they vainly boast:
And, let not their profaneness be protected
By that, whi
•
h they so much have disrespect
•
d.
For, why shouldst thou forbear this people more
Then ma
•
y other Nations heretofore?
Since they for their example those have had
The less excusable their faults are made.
Yea, though their wickedness were but the same,
Yet, they are worthy of a greater blame.
〈◊〉
What are they better then the stubborn
Jews?
Wherein, do they thy blessings less abuse?
What have their
Temples,
of more worth in them
Then
Shilo, Bethel,
or
Jerusalem,
That we should spare their ma
•
y sleepled Towres,
Not rather making them the Ne
•
sts, and Bowres
Of noisome
Vermin,
and such fatal Fowls,
As croaking
Ravens,
and loud screeching
Owls?
Why shouldst thou not, as low this
I will
decline,
As Milk and Honey-flowing
Palestine
?
What
•
ave they more deserved of thy pity
Then
Zion,
thy so much bel
•
ved Cit
•
y?
Or, wherefore should their Seed be thought upon
More kindly, the
•
the br
•
tts of
Babylon?
Why should their
Common wealth,
more prised be,
Then thos
•
great
Monarchies
destroyed b
•
me
In former ages, whose transcendent Fate,
•
ach Time succeeding, hath admired at?
Yea, since the World thou didst for s
••
ning, drown,
Why should such mercy to thi
•
Land
be shown?
If thou a piou
•
King to them
•
ast given,
What loseth be, if then from thence to Heaven
Translate him shall? From earthly Crowns, to wear
Those wreathes of Glory that immortal are?
And from a froward People, to have place
With
Angels,
and there triumph in thy grace?
If any man be found observing thee,
To him what discontentment can it be
To view my hand prevailing over those
Who me in my proceedings did oppose?
And see those Tyrants ruined, who have long
Committed violence, and offered wrong
To him, and his? what b
•
rme hath he I pray,
To pass through all that sorrow in one day,
And in thy blessed pres
•
nce to appear,
Who else might here have lingered many a year?
Of what can he complain, if being borne
Above the reach of every future scorn,
Within thy heavenly Mansion, he possess
A perfect, and an endless happiness?
Why may not IVSTICE glorify
•
hy
Name,
As well as MERCY can extol the same?
Why should thy former favors, being lost,
Oblige thee to defray a future cost
On
Prodigals,
and
Vnthrifts,
who had rather
Live Swineherds, than return to th
•
e their
Father
?
Why may not that reproach d
•
verted be,
Which irreligious men will cast on thee
Although thou spare not
hypocrites;
and them
Who are the causers that thy Foes blaspheme?
What disadvantage can their fall effect
To thy pure
honor?
or, to thine
elect,
Which may not be prevented (if thou
•
lease)
Although thou be not mer
•
ifull to these?
Sure, none at all: and, therefore, I will stay
My hand no longer; but break off delay.
Thy
Sword
and
Ballance,
are with me in trust;
To punish Sin, I know it to be just;
They both
arraigned,
and
condemned
are;
My
warrant
•
,
in thy written Word appea
•
e:
Their crimes, for
Vengeance,
loudly crying
•
e:
Thy
Judgments,
ready mustered are, by
•
he:
Thine eye doth speak unto me to be gone;
And, loe; I fly to see thy pleasure done.
As when a
Mother
on a sudden hearing
Her babe to shrieke, (and some disaster fearing
That may befall
•
he child) starts up and flies
To see the reason of her
Infants
cries:
So quick, was IVSTICE; & e're now, had brought
Her work, to something; and, this
Land,
to naught.
•
ut, to prevent her purpose,
MERCIE
cast
Her arm about that angry
Virgins
waste▪
Look'd sadly on her; hung about her; kist her,
And (weeping in her bosom) said,
Sweet Sister,
I pray thee, do not thus impatient grow,
Nor prosecute deserved Vengeance, so.
Thou art most beautiful; sincerely just;
Most perf
•
ctly upright in all thou dost;
For which
•
h
•
ne excellency, and p
•
rfection,
I love thee with an excel
•
ent a
••
ection.
And though thou frownest; yet thy frownings be
So lovely, that I cannot part
•
rom thee.
What though some
Worldlings
offer thee disgraces▪
Sh
•
ll they
(Sweet heart)
make loathed my embraces?
Shall thou, and I, (who near
•
r are then twins)
Fall out, o
•
be divorced by their sins?
Oh never l
•
t it said, or mutt red be,
That we in anything can disagr
•
e.
For what's more lo
•
ely, or more sweet then thi
•
,
That we each other may embrace and kiss?
And by our mutual workings, and agreeings,
Bri
•
g all God's Creatures to their perfect
beings.
Belee
•
e me
(Deare)
Heaven doth not comprehend
That pleasure, which this pleasure doth transcend:
Nor is our
Father
better pleased in us,
Then when he sees our arms emwined, thus.
For should we jar, the world would be undone,
And Heaven, and Earth, into a
Chaos
run.
What profit can it bring, or what content,
To see a Kingdom miserably rent,
With manifold afflictions? what great good
To us redoundeth by the death, or b
•
ood
Of any màn? what honor can we have?
What praise, from those that in the silent gra
•
e
Lye raked up in ruins dead and rotten?
Or in the Land where all things are forgotten?
Seek not thy Glory by their Overthrow,
That are pursued by too strong a F
•
e,
And over-matched already; think upon
The pow'rfull hate of that malicious One.
Rem
•
mber they were f
•
amed of the dust;
And that to Cl
•
y again return they must.
When they are dead they pass away forever,
Even as that vapor which returneth never.
Oh; make them not the
Butt
of thy displeasure,
Nor give them of God's wrath the fullest measure.
I grant this
Realm
is sinful; But, what hath
That
Realm,
or people equalling thy wrath?
T'is honorable, when we stoop below
Our selves; that love or favor we may show▪
Or to correct, with purpose to amend:
But if with such we Foe-like should contend▪
It would appear, as if some
Empery
Did arm it self, to combat with a
Fly.
When we correction, or forgiveness deign,
We may correct them, or forgive again:
But in destroying quite, ourselves we wound,
And to our
Infiniteness,
set a bound;
For IVSTICE neither MERCY can have pl
•
ce▪
In subjects, which we totally deface.
We must not seek for purity divine
In dust and ashes; till we first refine
From earthly dross the gold that we desire,
By using of the Bellows and the Fire.
For till we purge it, what (alas) is good,
Or what can holy be in Flesh and Blood?
Who looks that Figs on Thistles should be borne,
•
r that sweet Grapes should grow upon a Thorn?
It cannot be. As therefore hereto
•
ore
God promise
•
d, (that he would never more
Contend with man) let us resolve the same;
And by some other means, their wildenesse tam
•
.
Keep, yet a while, this Army where it is▪
And let us try to mend what is amiss,
(As erst we did) by sending jointly thither,
Our Favors, and Corrections, both together:
And if they profit not, there is a
Day
In which thine Indi
•
nation shall have way.
As when a
Father,
who, in heat of wrath
To give a son correction purposed hath,
Enraged is, until his lovely wife
Doth interpo
•
e her self with friendly strife;
But (pleased in the sweetness of her speech,
Who to forgive the Child doth him beseech)
Doth lay aside his whole displeasure, then,
And turn his anger into smiles agen;
So,
IVSTICE
was by
MERCY
wrought upon:
And she that would with so much haste be gone,
Forgot her speed; Her loving
Sister
ey'd
With calmer looks; and thus to her replied.
Thou, and thy charmings have prevailed upon me,
And to abate mine anger thou hast won me.
I
•
herefore will not cast my plagues on all,
But on worst Livers, only, let them fall.
Nay, nay,
quoth
MERCIE, thou must favor show
To most of them, or thou wilt overthrow
The laws of
Destiny;
and crossed will be
What God did from eternity decree.
For, some of these have not fulfilled yet
Their sins, nor made their number up complete.
Some, that are wandering in the ways of folly,
Shall be regenerated, and made holy.
Of them some have morality, that may
Be helpful to God's childr
•
n, in their way;
Some, must be left, as were the
Cana'nites,
To exercise the faithful
Isr'elites;
Yea some, have in their loins a generation
Vnborne, which must make up the
blessed Nation.
And till that seed bud forth, those trees must s
•
and,
Although they grow but to annoy the
Land.
It seems
(quoth
IVSTICE) I must then abide,
(However they off
•
nd) unsatisfi'd.
Vns
•
tisfi'd (
said
MERCIE) Is it that,
Sweet Sister, which your zeal hath aimed at?
Then, look you there.
And with that word, her eye
She pla
•
'd on him, who sits in Majesty
At God's right hand.
Behold that Lamb
(quoth she)
By him thou fully satisfied shalt be.
He poor was made, that He their debt might pay;
He base became, to take their shame away;
He entered bond, their freedom to procure;
He dangers tried, their safeties to assure;
He scorned was, their honor to advance;
He seemed a fool, to help their ignorance;
He sin was made, their errors to conceal;
He wounded was, that he th
•
ir wounds might heal;
He thirsted, that their thirst might have an end;
He wept, that joy their sorrow might attend;
He lost his blood, that they their blood might save;
He died, that they eternal life might have.
Nor canst thou any for their sins condemn,
(Since he hath over-paid the price for them)
If by partic'lar faith they shall apply
That pardon, which he granteth gen'rally.
And lest to that whole Kingdom thou deny it,
For want of application, I apply it.
Why then (
said
IVSTICE) I may quite dismiss
This host of
Plagues
whi
•
h here assembled is.
Not so,
replied
MERCIE: For no curse
Is greater, n
•
r is any mischief worse
Then want of due correction: And if I
Shoul
•
yield to that, it were not Clemency,
But cruel dealing; and my love no other
Then is the kindness of that cock
•
ing m
•
there,
Who spares the rod (out of her pure affection)
And sends unto the
Gallows
for correction:
As if she thought her children apt for learning,
If they could take a hanging for a warning▪
I s
•
eme to cr
•
sse thy workings, and thou mine,
To those that n
••
there know my ways, nor thi
•
e:
But, is the motions in a Clock do tend
And move together to one purposed end,
Although their wheels contrary courses go
•
,
And force the even balance to and f
•
o.
Even so, although it may to some appear,
That our proceedings much repugnant are;
Yet in our disagreeings, we agree,
And helpful to our chi
•
fe desi
•
ne they be▪
We therefore, from God's
A
•
my
will select
One
Regiment,
this people to correct.
Not his that is the
General:
for, he
Resisteth us if he prevail
•
ng be.
Nor
Famine;
For, (unless permit we shall
That she devour, until we starve up all)
She most unequally consumes the poor,
And makes the rich to be enriched more.
Nor will we send the
Sword;
for, that makes way
For every plague to follow; yea, doth lay
All open to confusion; and bestows
The power of God oft times upon his foes.
But, we to punish them, will send from hence,
The dreadful, and impartial
PESTILENCE.
For, she doth neither Ri
•
h, nor Poor prefer;
The foolish, and the wise, are one to her:
Nor eloquence, nor beauty, nor complexion,
Prevailes wi
•
h her; Nor Hatred, nor Affection.
S
•
e seizeth All alike; she visiteth
The Palace, as the Cottage; and with death,
Or else with sickness, strikes at each degree,
Unless our
Supersedeas,
granted be.
By means of her, in any State, or City,
Thou mayest avenge, and I may show my pity
With little noise; and both at once,
•
ulfill
Our wishes, and accompl
•
sh all our will.
For, where a noisome we
•
d is seen to sprout,
She shall, at thy appointment, weed it out.
Or if a plant, or bud, or flow'r we see,
That's ripe for Heaven, and may impaired be
By standing longer; we the same will gather,
To m
•
ke a precious Posy for our
Father.
And, as t
•
ou hast thy purpose, by their fall.
Or smart, whom she or wound, or slaught
•
r shall:
Right so have I: For, if they wicked are
Whom she removes; th
•
better sh
•
ll they fare,
Whose Conversations truly honest be;
And from oppression live the longer free.
If righteous men this Judgments
•
rey become,
It is appointed to secure them from
Some greater
Plague,
which must (perhaps) be sent
To scourge this
Kingdom,
ere it will repent;
Or (peradventure) that my hand may take them
From Earth, the Citizens of Heaven to make them:
And some, who never e
•
se on God had thought,
Shall, (by her whip) unto his love be brought.
This pleased well, and
IVSTIC
•
did agree
With
MERCY,
that it should all
•
wed be:
And, for the swift
•
ulfilling of their mind,
The
PESTILENCE,
by warrant, was assi
•
n'd
Great Brittan
to invade; and limited
Where to begin the
Plague
; how far to spread;
How many she should wound; how many slay;
How many grieve; how many fright away;
How long abide; and when her term was done,
On what conditions (then) she must be gone.
Moreover lest her stroke should not amend u
•
,
God's
Hoast of Plagues
had warrant to attend us;
That if the
Pestilence
could not prevail,
Another might our wicked Land assail;
And then another, till we did repent,
Or were consumed in our chastisement.
The
Prince of Darknes,
(though he could not gain
Permission, fully to unloose his Chaine)
His usual power obtained to work despite
On some offenders, and to use the sleight
Of Lying-wonders: or by strong temptation
To seize upon the Sons of
Reprobation:
Yea many times to buffet (for correction)
Even those that have the seals of
God's electio
•
.
Dear
•
h
was commanded, that (to make us fear
A
Scarceness
•
)
she should scatter here, and the
•
e,
A
Flood,
or
Tempest
; and at sometime bring
A
droughty Sum
•
er,
or a
frosty Spring,
Or
Mel-dew,
to remember us, from whom
The blessings of a plenteous year do come.
War,
(who had quite forgotten us almost)
Injoyned was to sit upon our
Coast
;
To sails about our
Shore,
to view our
Forts,
To visit all our
Havens,
and our
Ports:
And with her dreadful sounds, to rouse and keep
This Kingdom, f
•
om
securities
dead sleep.
But was commanded, not to seize a hoof
Of what w
•
s ours, till God hath made a proof
How mollified our stony hearts will be;
What fruits of true repentance he shall see;
What change will be effected in this Land,
By his correcting us with his own hand;
And what oblations of true thanks, and love,
We render will upon this
Plagues
remove.
Wherein, if we do fail his expectation,
We shall be made a miserable
Nation.
The
Sea
that now doth close us, like a wall,
Shall be a Sea o
•
terror; and it shall
Let in our foes upon us, or with
•
louds
O're-flow our borders, and devour our goods.
Our wealthy
Traffiques,
and that foreign Trade,
(Whereby so proud, and wanton we are made)
Cut off shall be, and fail in every Coast.
Our num'rous
Fle
•
ts
(whereof so much we boast,
(And, in whole power and mu
•
titude, I fear
Ou
•
trust, and hopes too much reposed are)
By Stormes, and Piracies, that shall pursue them,
Or want of means, and trading to renew them,
Shall waste away unheeded; till we see
Our ha
•
mes beyond our means of curing be.
Our
H
•
uses
shall by strangers be possessed;
Our goodly
Temples,
which, (as yet) are blessed
With God's t
•
ue worship, shall be raz'd, or bu
•
ned,
Or into dens of theevery be turned.
Throughout those champain fields, & forests, where
We hunted for our pleasure; we by Fear
Shall hunted be: and made a prey for them
Whom we (perhaps) did most of all contemn.
Our
People,
(on whose numbers we presume)
Shall by degrees be less
•
ned, and consume.
Our
Nation
(late renowned through the World)
Shall be unvalu'd, as old rubbish, hu
•
l
•
d
In some by-corner, and quite round about us
Our Foes, our Neighbo
•
s, & our Friends shall flout us.
O
•
r
Peace,
sh
•
ll make us but effeminate.
Our
Riches,
and our plentiful estate,
Shall but enrich our enemies; and we
(That of our
King
so glad, and hopeful be)
Shall (for our sins, perchance) be quite d
•
prived
O
•
those great comforts, which we have conceived.
For, e
••
he
•
God may give an
•
ll success
To his be
•
t Counsels, for our f
•
owardnesse;
Or leave us some dist
•
ustings in our heart,
To make us censure in an evil pa
•
t
His gracious purposes; or give a power
To some ill-willers of his peace, and our,
To sow the seeds of Discord, and divide
Our heart
•
, which now so lovingly are tied:
Or let some
Politician
woe
•
ke upon
His Goodness; and so cunningly go on,
That he shall n
•
ver find, how he, and his
Are injured, till all things are amiss:
Which God forbid; yea, grant (O Lord) that I
In these su
•
posals may not prophecy;
As (out of doubt I shall) if any sin
(That may procure it) we continue in.
Yea, though our
Projects
may a while possess
Our hearts with flatt'
•
ing hopes of good success;
Th
•
ugh in aff
•
ires of
War,
and in our
Fights
We thrive a while, as did the
Benj
•
mites
;
Although a league with
Balaam
we began;
And
•
erodach
the son of
Baladan
Had sent us presents; and though he shall seem
To have our health and welfa
•
e in esteem;
Though to his
Lord's
the treasures we declare,
Which in God's
Temple
here among us are:
Yea, though we g
•
ve those
holy things,
to buy
His love, and
Babylonish
amity:
It should but linger us along, till they
(Who seek our overthrow) their snares do lay▪
Until they have enlarged their growing pow'rs,
And by their
Policy,
befooled ours;
Or, till our sins, or our securities
Have ma
•
e us objects for their Tyrannies,
And, there enthrall'd us, where long since were hung
On willow trees, untuned, and unstrung,
The Harps of
Zion
; and where Men contemn
The heavenly Sonnets of
Jerusalem.
Even this shall be our lot, and worse then this,
If we continue still to do amiss,
Or bring not forth the fruits of Penitence,
When God hath scourged us by the
Pestilen
••
.
But, if that stir us to repenting shall,
He will not only back again recall
That raging
Plague,
to which he gave such pow'
•
Within our peopled Cities to devour:
But, he will also on this
Realm
bestow
New benefits, for entertaining so,
With lowliness, his fatherly correction;
And yielding him our filial affection.
Then, everyone beneath his Vine shall si
•
Without disturbance; and with pleasure eat
The profit of his labors. Men shall go
In
•
afety through
•
he Kingdom, to, and fro.
Their Lands they shall enjoy in peace; and wear
The warmest fleeces, that their flocks do bear.
No sons of
Belial,
shall from them divert
Their
Princes
favor (in the smallest part)
Nor shall Seditions Lovers draw from him
Their loyalties, by misinforming them;
But God that blessed
union
shall maintain,
Which ought 'twixt
King
and
People
to remain
•
.
He, then, will multiply the fruits increase;
Prese
•
ve our plenty, sanctify our peace:
And guide by Land and Sea, our preparations
Of l
•
wfull
war,
to seize upon those
Nations
That are our foes, and his. Which, that He may
Vouchsafe unto us; let us every day
Produce of thankfulness some new effect:
Let us observe (with every due respect)
The progress of that
Plague
sent lately hither;
How
CLEMENCY
&
IVSTICE
came togeth
•
r;
Relating to each other what we saw
To kindle love, or keep our souls in awe;
And so record it, that (should we be rotten)
It may be still p
•
eserved unforgotten.
For, that we might his honor forth declare,
We bo
•
h created, and preserved were.
To such a purpose, I do thus employ
That scorned Faculty, which I enjoy;
And (for the compa
••
ing of my intention)
Have offr
•
d up the best of my invention;
And what that is (to those, who do regard
Such pains) the following
Cantoes
have declared
Behold (O Lord) my purposes from heaven,
Accept of me the gift that thou hast given.
Permit not those, who spite or malice me,
To interrupt my
M
•
se
in praising t
•
ee.
Let none of those, who find that I neglect
The way to
wealth,
which th
•
y
•
oo much affect,
Conceive, that I my Time have spent in vain,
Because their
Studies
yield them greater gain;
Let them perceive, though this endeavor brings
Nor
Riches, Honors,
nor esteem of
Kings;
But rather wastes my
Fortunes,
and doth more
Increase my charge, and troubles, then before;
Let them (I say) conceive, and also know,
That I am highly pleased, it should be so;
And would not change the bless
•
ng of my
Fate
With those, whom they do hold more fortunate.
And let not that, which I have here comprised▪
Become (through my unworthiness) despised;
But grant it such a moderate respect,
Th
•
t I may see my labors take effect
For their enc
•
uragements, who shall apply
To such good
•
ds, their gift of
Poësie;
And let all those, who shall peruse my Story▪
Receive some profit, and give thee, the glory.
The second Canto.
Our
Muse
defends her lowly
style
;
And (having flown aside a while)
Tells, how the
Plague
first entered here▪
What means to stay it practice'd were.
Some vulg
•
r
Tenets
are disputed;
Some rectified, some refuted.
She from the Nature, and the Cause,
Of that Disease, conclusions draws;
Declareth how it runs and creeps,
And what un
•
ertaine paths it keeps:
How long strict
orders
useful stood;
The fruit of Christian neighbourhood;
And many other things, be
•
wixt
These mentioned, are intermixt.
She sh
•
we
•
h (also) means assured
By which, this
mischief
may be cured;
How to apply that means; how those
Who use it, should themselves compose;
How violent the
Plague
did grow;
Who from it might, or might not go;
How much 'twas feared; how men fled;
How ill, in flying, many sped;
And lastly (as occasion moves)
She grieves, she counsels, and reproves.
LEt no fantastique
Reader
now condemn
Out homely
Muse,
for stooping u
•
to them,
In plain expressions, and in words, that show
We love not, in affected paths, to go.
For, to be understood, is language used;
And speech to other ends as much abused▪
Lines, therefore, over-dark, or over-trimmed,
Are like a
Picture
with a Visour limm'd;
Or like
Poma
•
ders
of a curious sent,
Within a painted Box that hath no vent;
Or like
Peach-kernels,
which, (to get them forth)
Require more cracking, then the fruit is worth.
Let no man guess, my
Measures
framed be,
That wiser men, my little wit may see;
Or that I do not hold the matter good,
Which is not more admired then understood:
For, chiefly, such a
Subject
I desire,
And such a plain
Expression,
to acquire,
That everyone my meaning may discern;
And they be taught, that have most need to learn.
It is the useful matter of my Rim
•
s
Shall make them live. Woe
•
ds alter as the Times:
And soonest
•
heir fantastique Rhetoriques,
Who trim their
Poesies
with schooleboy-tricks.
That, which this age affects, as grave, and wise,
Th
•
fo
•
lowing generation may despise.
Green
•
s
phr
•
se, and
••
llie
's language were in fashion,
And had among the wits much c
•
mmendation;
But now, another garb of speech, with us
Is pri
•
'd; and thei
•
s is thought ridi
•
ulous;
As ours (perchance) will be, whē Time (who changeth
Things changea
•
l
•
) the present phrase estrangeth.
Let no m
•
n therefore dream, I will bestow
My precious Time in what will vary so;
Since that, which, with most ease I shall produce,
May have (for ought I know) the longest use.
Let no man think, I will rack my memory
For pen and-inkehorne-terms, to finifie
My blunt invention; trimming it, as they
Who make rich clothes but for Saint
George
his day;
When they may be
•
ter
•
heap a suite provide,
To fit that feast, and many days beside.
Nor l
•
t unlearned
Censurers
suppose
Our
Muse
a course unwarrantable
•
oes,
In framing
Objects representative,
Which may imprint▪ or in the soul revive,
True feelings of that wrath or love, which we
In God almighty, by Faiths eyes do see.
For, though his holy
Spirit,
when he will,
Can easily the soul
•
of mortals fill
With heavenly knowledges, by ways unseen;
Yet, he himself hath sometime pleased been
By ou
•
ward object
•
to employ the senses,
In reaching to the soul some excellencies
Conceal'd before. Yea, many times he suites
His Deity in our poor attributes;
And (that our weakness he may work upon)
Our usual speech, and passions, he puts on▪
If so; then we, that have no other way
Our hidden apprehensions to convey
From Man to Man, but by the qu
•
int creation
Of some
Ideaes
in our contemplation;
That so the senses may become inclined
To give some information to the mind:
Then we (I say) whose fluid memories
Would else let go our airy fantasies,
May such a libe
••
y with warrant use.
And I (no doubt) myself may well excuse,
If other while things bodiless I clothe
With mortal bodies; and do give them both
Our speeches, and our gestures▪ Fo
•
, by this
A dull affection often quickened is.
Nor thus to do, are
Poets
only moved
But, these are strains
Pro
•
heticall,
approved.
To say, that God is angry; or that he
Will of our wickedness avenged be;
Moves little: but, to paint his fury, so
That Men the dreadfulness thereof may know,
As if they s
•
w it: or his love to make
So pleading of our cause, as if it spake
(Within our hearing) with such earnestness,
As friends would plead for friends in their distress
•
;
Doth much incite the
Reader
to attention,
And rouseth up the dullest apprehension.
Me thinks, I do, (as with mine eye) behold
The real sight of all that I have told:
Yea, that which I myself described here,
Doth touch mine heart with re
•
ere
•
ce, and fea
•
e.
I have perpetual Visions of that rout
Of
Plagues,
and
Iud
•
emen
•
s,
which do rove about
To punish us. And, from that dreadful
host
I see (me thinks) how to invade our Coast,
The
Plague
marched hither, like a
Regiment
That is for services of moment sent
From some great
Army.
And, when I can bend
My troubled spirits truly to attend
God's
Judgments,
and his
Mercies,
as they go
Their daily progress; I can reach unto
Much pleasing thoughts; and oftentimes foresee,
What his intents, and their even
••
will be:
For, when Mans heart is filled with his Fear,
The secrets of the Lord to him appear.
Oh! what rich treasures doth my soul possess,
When I do contemplate the blessedness,
The Wisdom▪ and the Way of God most high?
How far above myself raised up am I?
How little want I,
•
ha
•
the world can give?
What
heights
ascend I? what huge
depths
I dive?
How much contemn I dangers here below?
How c
•
rtaine of God's favors can I grow?
And wi
•
h what sweetn
•
sse is my breast inspired,
When (by the heat of
Contemplation
fired)
I sit locked up within a lonely room,
Whe
•
e nothing to disturb my thoughts may come;
And where may enter neither sight, nor Notion
Of anything, but what may
••
irre Devotion?
Sure, were it not, that I am clothed about
With flesh, that doth compel me to come out;
Or, knew I not the Christian Mans estate
Extend
•
d
•
urther, t
•
en to contemplate;
Or saw not them unthankfully precise,
Who God's external blessings quite despise;
Or feared I not▪ I never should have union
With God, unless I were in some communion
Of
Saints
on earth; whom I might sharers make
Of those sweet thoughts of him, which I pa
•
take;
Or, if I doubted not, I might with
Lot,
Upon the daughters of my b
•
aine begot,
Commit some spiritual incest, had I none
To spend the seed of my full
Soul
upon:
Or, if I found it not unnatural,
To leap out of the world, till God did call;
And that fantastique ways of self-contenting
Are but the certain paths to self-tormenting;
If all these things I knew not; I could bide
Shut up, until my flesh we
•
e Mummy-si'd;
And (though the world should woo me) would disd
•
in
(For ever) to unclose my door again.
For though (when I come forth) I lose agen
My
•
aptures
; and have thoughts like other men;
Because my nat'rall f
•
ailties, and the fog
Of earthly Vanities, my soul doth clog:
Yea, though I can as hardly keep those firings
Vnquench'd abroad, which are (in my retirings
Inflamed in me;) as a naked Man
Retaine that heat upon a
•
ountaine can,
Which in a close warm chamber he retaineth:
Ye
•
(for my comfort) somewhat still remaineth:
And in my recollections I possess
More happiness, then I can well express.
I view contentments, which I cannot measure;
I have some tastings of immortal pleasure;
I g
•
immerings have of hid
•
en
mysteries
;
My
•
ou
•
e on glorious things doth fix her eyes:
And though some whited walls (who did attempt
To bring my
Muse
and Me, unto contempt)
Endevour still (with shows of Piety)
My best-approved pains to v
•
l
•
fie:
I can with scorn of their base envy, raise
My thoughts above their ignorant dispraise:
And pity their dull sottishness, who prize
Their shadows better, then real
•
ties.
For I have searched their folly, and espy'd
That they have drowned their wisdom in their prid
•
▪
Yea, by their partial dealings, I now see
They judge men's merits, as their titles be:
And I have gotten those brave things in chase,
That shall advantage me, by my disgrace.
When, therefore, by myself I am enclosed,
And for an heavn'lie
rapture,
well disposed;
I do not grudge mine enemies to spew
Their flanders on my name; or to pursue
My labors with reproach; nor prey to make
On all my fortunes: But all well can take.
I do not then repine, although I see
That Fools ennobled, Knaves enriched be,
And honest men unheeded: but I bide
As pleased, as I am at
Whitsuntide,
To see fair
Nymphs
in Country Towns rejected,
And sluttish
Milkmaids
by the Clownes elected
For
Ladies of the May.
And if I chance
Where any of those
Hobby horses
prance;
I can in sport, or courtesy, bestow
Those terms upon them, which I do not owe.
For when on Contemplations wings I fly,
I then overlook the highest
Vanity.
I see how base those fooleries do
•
show,
Which are a
•
mired, while I creep below:
And by the brightness of a twofold light
(Re
••
ecting from God's word to clear my sight)
Faiths objects to her eyes, much plainer are,
Then those which to my outward
••
ght appear.
My towering
Soul
is winged up, as if
She over-flew the top of
Tenariffe,
Or some far higher Mountain; where we may
All actions of this lower World survey.
I am above the touch of malice borne;
I am beyond the reach of
•
v'ry scorn;
And could—But what mean I? this seems a
••
rai
•
Impertinent▪ Sweet
Muse,
come down again;
Soare not so high. For in these lofty flights
The Fools below, do think our
Eagles,
Kites.
The world, to flout such
Raptures
now is prone;
I will enjoy them (therefore) all
•
alone:
Of their unhallow'd censuring take heed,
And in my former purpose, thus proceed:
When (as you heard before) the
Court of Heaven
Commission to the
Pestilence
had given
To scourge our sins, and signed her direction
•
▪
She took up all her boxes of
Infections,
Her
Carbuncles,
her
Sores,
her
Spots,
her
Blaines,
And every other thing which appertains
To her contagious practices; and all
Her followers she did about her call;
Appoint them to their places, and their times,
D
•
rect them to the Persons, and the Crimes
They should correct, and how they should advanc
•
Her main
Designement
in each circumstance.
Then, on she marched; not as doth a Foe
Proclaiming War, before he strikes the blow;
But like an Enemy, who doth surprise
Upon the fi
•
st advantage he espies.
For (passing through the streets of many a Town
Disguised like a
Fever)
she, (unknown)
Stole into
London
; and did lu
•
ke about
The well filled Suburbs; spread
•
ng there (no doubt)
Inf
•
ction unperceiv'd, in many a place
Before the blea
•
e ey'd
Searchers,
knew her face;
And since they knew her, they have bribed been
A thous
•
nd times, to let h
•
r pass unseen.
But at the length, she was discovered at
A
Frenchmans
house without the
B
•
shopsgate.
To intimate (perhap
•
) that such as be
Our spiritual
Wats
•
men,
should the more foresee
That they with d
•
scipline made strong the
Ward,
Which God appointed hath for them to g
•
ard;
And chiefly, at this present, to have care,
Lest now, while we, and
France
un
•
ted are
In bodily commerce; they bring unto us
Those
Plagues
which may eternally undo us.
For, such like
Pestilences
soon begin;
And (ere we be aware) will enter in,
Unless our
Bishops,
both betimes, and late,
Be diligent and watchful at their
Gate.
As soon, as e're the
Women-spies
descry'd,
This Foe about the City to reside;
There was a loud
All-arm.
The Countrymen
Began to wish themselves at home agen.
The
Citizens
were gen'rally appal
•
'd;
The
Senators
themselves to Counsel called;
And all (who might advise in such a case)
Assembled in their Common meeting place;
Where, what discretion publicly was used;
What was admitted of, and what refused;
What policies, and stratagems invented;
That mischiefs, coming on, might be prevented,
I cannot say: For I had never wit,
Nor wealth enough, to sit in Counsel, yet.
B
••
if to judge of things it lawful were
By
•
hei
•
events; the propositions there
Were such as these. Most thought the surest play
To save their persons, was, to run away;
But lest some higher power might then forbid it,
They did not pu
•
lish that, b
•
fore they did it.
Some urged, that the
Scav
•
nger
should keep
The s
•
reet
•
more clean, and oft the channel sweep;
Some thought it fit, (and these no harm did think)
That every morning we should eat, and drink.
Some (to allay the heat) did hold it meet
To sprinkle water often in the street.
Some did a little further nat'
•
allize,
And these unto the
Air
would sacrifize
(In evening fires) pure F
•
ankincense or Myrrh,
Sweet herbs, or odorif'rous Juniper;
Or (for default of those) Pitch, Rosin, Tarre▪
And such perfumings as less costly are.
For if the Heart and Liver of a Fish
(Burnt by yo
•
ng
Tobit
in a Chafind
••
h)
A Spirit from his chamber could expel▪
They hoped these might purge ill airs, as well:
Some others (not contented herewi
•
hall)
Did into consultation also call
The
P
•
jests
of
Ae
•
culapius,
and
Apollo
;
And held it fit their grave advice to follow:
Nor without cause. For, from the wise
Physitia
•
We best sha
•
l know this Enemies condition.
And some there were of those, who did advise
Not only to assume those remedies
Which Art prescribed▪ but also therewithal
Observed what was M
•
taphy
••
call.
Yea, some s
•
ncerely, and religiously
Upon the souls infection had an eye,
As well as on the bo
•
ies: and th
•
se went
The surest way that sickness to prevent.
But there were others, who derided these,
And talked heath'nish
•
y of this disease.
They prated much of
Humours, Incl
•
nations
▪
Conjunction, planetary Constellations;
Of nat'rall causes, unbeleeved fictions;
Impostures, Fables,
and mere contradictions
In th
•
t
Phil
•
sophy,
which they profess:
Which filled men's minds with much unsettledness.
Yet in their disagreeings, they agree'd
On that which might their common profit breed▪
One had a rare
Perfume
of special note;
Another had a precious
Antidote,
Which at
Constantinople
had been tried
When there two thousand on a day have di'de.
A third, prefert'd a
Mixture
in a bag,
Of whose large virtues he did largely brag,
And said, the same they do in Plague times, wear
At
Rome,
(and so I think when he was there.)
A fourth, by
Diets,
safety did assure.
A fifth, by
Drinks,
the Pestilence would cure.
A sixth of
Cordials,
and
Elixars
prates;
And some of
Treacles,
and of
Mithridates.
To offer up a portion of the blood
(To save the rest) for some, it seemed good.
For other some to purge: for all to take
Such means as might their purses heavy make.
They to the rich prescribed
Preservatives
On costly terms: and, to prolong the lives
Of poorer men, their consciences abated
The value much: For, health, to them was rated
At some few handfuls of that herb or grass,
Which to be gotten▪ for the gathering was.
This being known, the
Senators
dismiss
Those men; and by advice it ordered is,
That some
Instructions
shall be published,
To further what was gravely counseled.
Moreover, that their
discipline
might carry
Some likeness to proceedings
military,
A band of
Ha
•
be
••
s,
mustered was, to guard
The people from the
Plague,
in every
Ward.
And, if they found, by serious inquisition,
(Or, had but any probable suspicion)
Where lodged it was (although but for a night)
That
Host,
exiled was from public sight;
Close pris'ner him they kept bo
•
h night and day,
As one that else
•
their City might betray.
And, to compel that his unwelcome
Guest
Should keep wi
•
hin; his do
•
e was
crossed,
and
blest
:
And many
Watchmen,
strengthened by command,
Did round about his dwelling, armed stand.
I do not thus express, or mention this,
As if I thought those
Orders
were amiss:
But, that I might, hereby, the better show
What miseries, attended on this
Foe
;
And, that this
Malady,
on us did ce
•
ze,
With circumstances, worse then the
Disease.
My
Muse
inspires not me so foolishly,
That I all natural causes do deny.
I do not think, but to this
Pest
•
lence,
The
Constellations,
by their influence
Might somewhat add: and that corrupted
air,
Might help our healthy being to impair.
I hold, that
Diets, Meats, Complexions, Passions,
With such as these, and all their
mitigations,
May help or hinder much in such diseases
As we endeavor shall; and as God pleases.
Nor do I flout the wisdom, or the pain
Of those who s
•
ught this mi
•
chief to restrain:
Nor blame I their much diligence, or care;
But praise it; and could wish it doubled were;
W
••
h some
•
such observe
•
tion
•
, as would make
Their practices, the mor
•
success to t
•
ke;
And that their natural means had hallowed been,
With so much
Fait
•
,
and penitence▪ for sin,
As might hav
•
brought more works of Piety,
To san
•
tifie their outward
Poluy
Fo
•
those dull
N
•
turalists,
who think, this
Foe,
Doth by mere nat'
•
all causes▪ come o
•
go,
Are much deceived▪ Yea, in their he
•
rts, they say,
There is no God,
how
•
ver gl
•
ze they may:
And as their cogitation
•
are unholy,
So is their seeming wisdom▪ sottish folly.
They are the base
Conjunctions,
and
Aspects
Of
Sin,
that this our Climate, so infects;
And neither
Constellations,
nor the
Weather:
For, then we had been po
•
s'ned all together,
By this
Contagion
; and had breathed the longer
Or shorter while, as nature had been stronger,
Or weaker in us Nothing had been free,
But birds and beasts had died as well a
•
we;
And this Disease had seized on every Creature
Or more or less, as it partakes our nature:
It was no n
•
ysome
Air,
no
•
ewre,
or
Stinke,
Which brought this
Death,
as most among us think,
For, then those places where ill smells abound,
Had more infectious at that time been found,
Then we perceive they were; yea, this
Disease,
On every person delicate, would seize,
Without exception. And where Savours ill
Still bide, the
Plague
should there continue still:
Then, if they brought the same, they sure feed it,
And, keep it always there, as well as breed it.
Which
God
•
orbid
; and
•
each us to discern
His providence, and what thereby to learn.
Vain thoughts have also they, who credit can
That, this
Infirmity,
at first, began,
By means of populousnesse. For, were it so;
Some Courts and Allies, many years ago,
Had been infected: And, th
•
se places, where
Throng'd up together, greatest numbers are;
From
Visitation,
had not free remained,
When open Streets, and Borroughs have complained▪
And, let them not believe their fallacy,
Because great
Cities,
have most frequently,
This fearful
Sickness,
or, afflicted be,
When little Towns and Villages, are free.
For, as there is in great and popular places,
More sin, and more abundance of God's graces:
So, it is just▪ that thither should be sent
The greater measure of his Chastisement,
That so, their eminen
•
e, might show abroad,
As well the
Justice,
as the
Love
of God;
Whose
Judgments
being laid on Towns obscure,
Might small respect, and less effect procure.
As ignorant as these, I reckon those,
Who this Disease, infectious do suppose
To everyone: and, them, who credit not
That
Sickness,
by infection may be got:
For, these opinions can have no defense;
Since both will false be found, in common sense.
For, if we say, this
Plague
infects not any,
How cometh it, we daily see so many
Consum'd beneath one roof in little space?
How comes it, that it creeps from place to place,
So orderly, as oftentimes we see,
In some close Lane o
•
Street? How may it be
That twenty Villages (far distant from
Infected Places) tainted should become
Within some few days after their arriving
Who in contageous places had their living?
None being there, before they came, infected,
Nor any such disease near-hand suspected?
How comes all this, unless the
Malad
•
e,
Hath in it self, as had the
L
•
prosie,
A spreading Nature, and envenom'd that
Which of her poison can participate?
Believe it; as the
Violet,
or
Rose,
(With pure and pleasing sweetness) where it grow
•
s
Perfumes the Air, and sendeth Odours out,
Which keep a certain distance there-about;
And, more or less, affect the
Passers-by,
As they have more or less capacity
In smelling them; Or, as the calmed air,
Is either, more or less, corrupt or fair:
Right so, this
Plague,
even naturally affects
A space of Air about it; and infects,
(At such or such a distance) everyone,
As he hath weaknesses, to work upon:
Unless, that her malignity be staid
By natural means, or pour Divine alaid.
And yet, a false Position make they shall
Who thence infer, the
Plague
infecteth all,
Who breathe her tainted Air. For, how did they
Escape it
•
hen, who long time, night and day
In places of infection were detained?
And in the bosom of this
Pest
•
emain'd,
Even whe
•
e they often had their ears and eyes,
Affronted, by the sad aspect, and cries,
Of
Death
and Dying men? How scaped he
That in the
Church,
obliged was to be
Among infectious people; and to speak
Till tired were his lungs; and spirits weak?
Even when the people's, thronging, and their heat
Did vapor up their breathings, and their sweat
For him to swallow? What preserved the
Clerks,
The
Sextens, Searchers, Keepers,
and those Sharks,
The shameless
Bearers
? (who were nigh become,
A rout too bad, to pick out hangmen, from?)
How scapit the
Surgeon,
that oft puts his head
Within the steam of an Infectious bed▪
And, every day doth handle, search, and dress,
Those Biles, that over-flow with rottenness?
Or (which is more) how scapt those
Babes,
the
Pest,
That were not only weak, but sucked the breast
Of Mothers deadly sick, when they did wear
Those noisome
Blaines,
that most infectious are?
This often chanceth. Yea, this hath been seen
When on the ve
•
y breast, the sore hath been.
Nay, I have heard (by credible relation)
That near to
Stra
•
ford-bow,
this
Visitation,
A little Infant was preserved alive,
Who sucked on the dying breasts of five.
How this may be I know not; If I shall
Conclude with some, this
Plague
hath pour on all
•
Nor can I find a reason how it stinted,
Or how our total ruin was prevented.
For, when it was at height; and when appeared,
Most causes, that Infection should be feared;
Then, no man was confined, as before:
No
Bill,
or
Cross,
was fixed on any door;
We visited the
Sick
; we shunned neither
The place nor person; but met all together.
Yet then, and (let us mark it) not till then,
This
Plague,
her fury did abate agen;
And constantly abate, though most refused
To keep such
Orders,
as at first were used.
Which manifest
•
th well, that (howsoe're
Malignant in it self, the
•
est
appear)
God's hand restrains it; many a man protecting
Immediately: some, mediately directing
To such, or such a means of preservation,
That they might honor him in their salvation▪
And, as he striketh some, that men might fear
His
Justice:
So, he other some doth spare,
That they might love his
Mercies
; and perceive
That he can at his pleasure take, and leave.
For, if God saved none; some
Athe'st,
would not
Make doubt, perhaps, to publish that he could not;
And, scarce one man would be so neighborly,
To help his brother in this malady.
Which Charity to further (and to show
How safely, men their
Callings
may pursue
In every danger) we have had, this year,
Of God's great
Providence,
fair token, here.
For, 'tis observed, that he hath few destroyed
Who were in this mortality employed
About those
Offices,
which have to us
(In common sense) appeared most dangerous.
Few
Sextons,
and few
Surgeons
have miscari'd,
Who in their callings at this want have tarry'd.
And of those
Market-folks
▪ who at our need
Brought in provisions, this weak place to feed,
I cannot hear of one, who did become
Infected; or, who brought infection home.
Even in that
Parish
where I did abi
•
e;
And where, nigh half a thousand, weekly died)
Not one of all that number perished,
That were the common
Bearers of the Dead.
But, though from midnight, till the break of day,
They did infectious Ca
•
kasses convey
From sickly Dwellings, to those
Pits of Death,
Which breathed out a most contagious breath,
With life and health, their service, God rewarded;
Even though the most of them naught else regarded,
But that base gain which might their want supply,
Or feed them in some wicked vanity.
How then, can we, that of this favor hear,
From any lawful action fly through fear?
Or doubt of God's protection, when we make
A dangerous attempt, for conscience sake?
And know, beside, that what we
••
rive to do,
We are both called, and obliged unto?
Moreover, since the latter sort here named,
Are (for the greater part) in life defamed;
Such, who their needful
Offices
abused;
Such, who nor outward means, nor inward used;
To keep their healths (but, grew the bolder in
The practices of every kind of sin)
Such, whom God's
Judgments
stupefied more,
And made far harder hearted, then before.
Since those (I say) of such condition were,
And yet preserved in their
Callings,
here:
For what good use I pray can we suppose
Those men were so preserved; but that those
Who truly seek God's glory in their stay,
Might have the more assurance in their way?
And know, that if to such God please to give
This mortal life, they shall much rather live;
Or else (which is far better) if they die,
Obtaine a life, with immortality.
Some
Wiseman-woud-be,
now, perhaps, will prate
That this is
Claphamnisme:
And, that the
State
(In her good policies to stop the breach
Of this g
•
eat
Plague)
is wronged by what I teach?
But, rather they injurious are to me
Who so affirm; and vain their cavils be.
For, though to show the pour Divine the more,
Our
Muse
declares, by what is gone before,
That God's own hand, our
City
did preserve,
When we scarce
Mea
•
es,
or
Order,
did observe.
Let no man gather thence, that we maintain,
All
Mean
•
s
▪ or Civil
Orders
to be vain.
For, of self-murder that man guilty dies,
Who, means of health doth willfully despise.
Yea, doubtl
•
sse, there belongs a curse to them,
That orderly proceedings do contemn.
And, whereas we our
Orders
did transgress,
It was necessity, not willfulness,
That u
•
ged it; because, our common woe,
Did far
••
beyond the pour o
•
O
•
d
•
r,
go.
At rising of the
•
loud
we made a
Bay
;
But, at the height, it carri'd all away.
In human Policy, we s
•
w no hope.
But, as the stones and Timbers whi
•
h do stop
A
Breach
at first; when all is drowned over,
Do nothing else, but make the waters roar:
So, when our Sickness, and our Poverty,
Had greater wants than we could well supply,
Strict
Orders
did but more enrage our grief,
And, hinder in accomplishing relief.
Had every house been locked which we supposed
To stand infected, few had been unclos'd,
Yea, our fi
•
st
Orders
had we still observed,
The healthie Housholds would not half have served
To keep the Sick. And who should then have heeded
Our private cares? Or got us that we needed?
As long as from each other, we ref
•
ain'd,
We greater sorrows every day sustained:
Yea, whilst for none, but for ou
•
selves we cared,
Our brethren perished, and the worse we far'd.
This made us from our
Policies
appeal,
And meet in
Love,
each others wounds to he
•
le.
This, made us from our civil
Orders
fly,
To make more practice of our
Charity.
And hereunto, pe
•
haps, compel'd were we,
By mere necessity, to l
•
t us see
Experiments, of that unmatched good,
Which flowe
•
h from a Christian
Neighbourh
•
od
▪
And learn what public, and what pr
•
vate case
It bringeth in a g
•
nerall Dise
•
se:
And how it may a
Common-wealth
sustain
When carnal
Wisdom,
and
Self-love
are vain▪
O
•
, we perchance from vulgar helps were driven,
Lest Overmuch assurance might be given
To outward means: Or, lest we used them so,
As if God's pour were chained thereunto.
O
•
else, it was permitted, to d
•
clare
That fruitless all our best endeavors are.
Without his blessing: That, no creatures have
A Virtue to preserve till he will save:
That, his immediate pour must countermand,
When any
Plague
hath got an upper hand:
And, that, such
Mercy
shown in s
•
ch distress,
Might bind us to the greater thankfulness.
But, lest what here precedeth hath not shown
My purpose fully; be it also known,
That to restrain, or spurr the PESTILENCE,
There is both supernat'rall
Providence
And
Causes natural.
The first of these
Can work without the later, if it please.
The later cannot anything effect,
But, as the former shall the same direct.
And, though in every sickness, thus it is,
Yet, such hid properties are found in this,
Such oppositions in the
Natural Causes,
Such knots, and riddles; that it much amazes
The natural man: because he seldom finds
(As he perceives in griefs of other kinds)
The
Causes
and
Effects
agree together;
For, there is much uncertainty in either.
On some, this
Plague
doth steal insensib
•
y,
Their muddy nature, stirring secretly
To their destruction. Some, it striketh so,
As if a mortal hand had with a blow
Arrested them; and on their flesh hath seen
A palms impression, to appearance, been.
One m
•
n is faint, weak, sickly, full of fear,
And draws his breath where st
•
ongst infections are,
Yet scapes with life. Another man is young,
Light-hearted, healthy, stout, well-tempered, strong,
And lives in wholesome air, yet gets a fit
Of this
Land Cale
•
ture,
and dies of it.
Some are tormented by it, till we s
•
e
Their veins and sinews almost broken be,
The very soul distracted, sense bereft,
And scarce the smallest hope of scaping le
•
t,
Yet soon recover. Othersome, again
Fall suddenly; or feel so little pain
When they are seized, that they breathless lie,
E're any dying
Symptoms,
we
•
spy.
On some, an endless drowsiness doth creep
•
:
Some others, cannot get one wink of sleep.
This, useth every day preservatives,
Yet dies: another taketh none, yet lives.
Even thus uncertainly this
Sickness
plays;
Spares, wounds, and killeth, many sev'rall ways.
From this experience, let us not conclude,
As many do among the multitude,
Who misconceiving (to no small offense)
The doctrine of
Eternal Providence,
(Who from the truth of sober knowledge wandering,
And God's
Decrees,
and
Justice
also slandering)
Do so necessitate the
Fate
of man,
That, whatsoever he endeavor can,
His pains is lost; and that foredoom'd, he must
At this or that set moment turn to dust:
And that no industry, no innocence,
No willful carelessness, or foul offense,
N
•
r any human actions helpful be
To life or death, but merely God's
De
•
ree.
Even such there be. And, howsoever they
Preach
Faith,
or
Works,
in show, yet, th
•
y denay
The power of both; and secretly maintain,
(By consequence at least) that means are vain.
For, they affirm that everything men do,
They are by God predestinated to
Before all worlds; So, that our power, or will,
Affecteth; not effecteth good, or ill;
And that we are by doom inevi
•
able
In every kind of action made unable.
Which
Tenet,
seemeth rather to arise
From those, who write of heathenish
Des
•
inies,
Then from a Christian. For, though true it be,
That, God Almighty, all things doth foresee,
And order so, and so dispose of things,
That, to perfection his own work he brings,
In spite of
Satan,
and of every deed
That may from his malignant brood proceed:
Yet, they have Actions naturally their own,
Which God permits. He likewise hath bestowne
On us that are his children, grace, and pours,
Good Actions to perform, which we call ours
By God's free gift. Moreover, he doth please
To promise bliss, or threaten plagues, for these,
According to their natures; that each one
May heed the be
•
ter, what is to be done:
Be stirred up to put good works in use,
Or else be left at last without excuse.
For▪ though I am assured we possess,
By Nature, no inherent Righteousness;
I, naithelesse believe that everyone
(Whose being, first, from
Adams
loins begun)
Received since our Universal fall
One
Talent,
at the least, to work withal,
With so much pour of working also, that
We may and should with God cooperate.
As
Adam
all men did of life deprive;
Even so by
Christ,
were all men made alive:
Yea, even as
Moses
did not let remain
One hoof in
Egypt
which did appe
•
taine
To
Isr'ell
; So believe I that not one▪
Was left unransom'd by God's only Son:
But that all through the sea of blood d
•
d come,
As well those other who do wander from
Truths path in this life's wilderness; as they
Who come within the Land of Promise may.
And, though like him, who impudently, laid
Injustice to his
Masters
charge, and said;
He reaped where he sowed not, though, I say;
There want not some among us, at this day,
Who like to him, do most unthankfully
This grace of God in JESUS CHRIST deny;
(Affirming, that he some enjoins unto
Much more, than he did give them power to)
Our
Maker
unto every soul that lives,
So much by virtue of
Christ's
Passion gives,
That whosoever falleth, fall
•
s not by
Another's, but his own iniquity;
And, by his actual crimes, makes unforgiven
That
Debt original
which was made even
By his
Redeemer,
who, that, back will have,
(If we abuse it) which at first he gave.
Who ev'r wants pour to do what God doth bid,
Lost in himself, that pow
•
e as
Adam
did:
Yet, we that have it, neither had that pour,
No
•
keep it can, by any strength of our;
But by his holy
Spi
•
it,
who hath taught
That path of life wherein to walk we ought.
And, this is such a
Mystery,
that some
Which think they s
•
e, are blind therein become▪
Our guilty Souls and Bodies were bereft
Of all good Faculties, and had not left
So much as
Will,
much less the pour to do
What soul or B
•
d
•
es health conduced to.
Their guilt
Christ
from them took; and by his might
Depraved Nature so much sets to right,
That unto every Soul, he gives the will
Which
Adam
had, of choosing good or ill.
And then both Life and Death, he doth propose
Before them so, that either may be chose.
To them, whom in his
Church
he doth afford
To live past Child-hood, He doth by his
Word
(And by no other means) this tender make.
With Infants, and with Heathens, he may take
Some other course. But, surely, when, or how
He that effects; concerns not us to know.
When God doth make this tender (which is then
When he doth please, and no man knoweth when)
If any Soul by
Satan's
guile doth choose,
What God's good
Spirit
moves her to refuse,
She, then, to put in action doth begin
The heinous and impardonable sin
Against the
Holy Ghost
(which f
•
arfull crime
Is made apparent to the world, in time,
Or more or less, by outward actions here,
As God shall please to let the same appear)
And, after this refusal, everything,
Which doth increase of grace, to others, bring,
Doth make her grow more senseless of her state,
Or else enrage, or make her desperate.
And, her
freewill,
in
Adam
lost before,
Is lost again, by her, for evermore.
But, if she chooseth as the Spirit move
•
h,
The Lord, this Soul, without repenting loveth;
In her, preserving such affections still,
And such a portion of her first
Freewill,
That though the frailties of her flesh do seem
To choke them often, in the worlds esteem;
(And sometime in her own) yet she forever
Doth in her motion towards God persevere,
Till she arrive in him. Nor doth she cease
Of pious works, her number to increase:
But labors for assurance in election,
By reaching every day at more perfection.
An
•
, far is it from God to take away
The guerdon of our
Faith
; or to denay
What he did by his
Covenant,
ordain,
To be the wages of our Christian pain:
Or to command us what should profit naught;
Or, to neglect the works that we have wrought.
For, since God heeds those things that are so small,
As birds alightings, and as hairs that fall;
Makes use of every circumstance, and chai
•
es
(To further those main ends which he ordains)
Ten thousand little trifling things together;
Not one omitting, none displacing neither,
Which may be pertinent his ends to fu
•
there,
Or to effect them, in their timely
Order.
How could so fond a crotchet be devised,
That God our serioust actions hath despised?
Or, that by his
Foreknowledge,
or
Decree,
Our deeds should all annihilated be?
Or, that he should so oft incite us to
What he had given to man, no power to do?
I dare not venture upon their distractions,
Who search the order of
Eternal actions
;
Nor do I further seek what God
foreknowes,
Then he within his Word revealed shows;
Nor will I ever strive to pry into
His hidden couns
•
lls, as too many do:
But their unwarrantable paths eschewing,
And, God's disclosed purposes pursuing,
Search only for the knowledge of those things
Which an effecting of his pleasure brings.
Since, if I follow them, it cannot be
That he would purpose any harm to me;
Or in his secret counsel ought ordain
To make his publi
•
e will to be in vain.
For, though, when
Abram, Isa'k
thought to kill,
God's hidden
purpose,
and revealed
will
Did seem to cross each other (And when he
Did threaten
Nineveh
destroyed should be)
Yet, they appear not opposite to those
Whose faith, such holy secrets can disclose.
Or were it so; from acts particular
None should conclusions general infer.
God never said, as yet, that I could hear,
Man, such a day shall perish, howsoe're
By faithful works for safety he endeavor.
But, all his promises and threatenings, ever
Were made conditional; and have fore-spoken
Our life, or death, as they are kept, or broken.
Nor is this any bar, or contradiction
To God's free
Grace
; or to his firm
Election,
Or never-ending
Love.
Nor helps it those
Who,
perseverance of the Saints,
oppose:
But, rather, maketh all those Doctrines good.
Yea, being rightly weighed and understood,
God's
justice,
and his
mercy
it unites,
Whom men's blind Cavills have made opposites.
God knew the doom, and date of
Adams
crime,
Yet, he did fore-express no certain time;
But, speaking of it, spake indefinitely,
And said,
That d
•
y thou sinnest, thou shalt die.
And sure, of all men's deaths (who e're gain says)
It is their sin that setteth down the days.
For, till transgression forfeited our breath,
There was no peremptory day of death.
And, in affirming, where God's Word is mute,
It is presumption, to be absolute.
Do this,
saith God,
and live; Do that and perish.
Yet some, whose overfights too many cherish,
Dare contradict it; and affirm that we
Good, bad, dead, living, damned, saved be
Even from eternity, without respects,
To any causes, or to their effects.
And these imply, that (whatsoever we do,
Or leave undone) God fore-appoints us to
A certain doom; which we shall strive in vain,
With all our strength, to shun▪ or to obtain.
And wherefore then did God his Gospel send?
Why doth his Word exhort us to amend?
Why doth he
•
id us, this, or that to shun?
Why hath he charged some things to be done?
If he no power hath given, or else by fate
Disableth all men to cooperate?
And leaves them neither good nor ill to do
But what he fore-decreed long ago?
Why threats he stripes? why promiseth reward?
If there be no compassion, no regard,
Nor meed for what is done. And what I pray
Is all Religion, if these truth do say?
I know God reprobates▪ and doth foresee
Before all worlds, who reprobates will be.
But, none he forceth to be so accurst,
Save those who have his
Grace
rejected first▪
And unto those, indeed, he pour denies
To work his will, because they did despise
His proffered
Love
; And just it is in him,
To make them blind, who did the light contemn.
He doth eternally abhor the crime;
But he the
persons
reprobates
in time.
And None doth choose, or personally reject
(What ever some conceive) but with respect
Unto his
Covenant
; which hath implide
Something to be performed on either side.
For, were it so, that God hath fore-decreed
What should befall unto us without heed
To any
Covenant
; and barred
Salvation,
By an eternal doom of
R
•
probation,
(In such like manner as the fantasies
Of some (not well advisedly) devise)
What compass we by striving therewithal▪
Why spend we time, in rising up to fall?
Why linger we to act so many crimes?
To suffer over grief so many times?
And live so many sev'rall deaths to taste,
To be nor worse, nor better at the last?
Or wherefore have we prayed, since we know
What must be, must be, though we pray not so?
I might be thought over bitter, if as they
I should interrogate, who sharply say;
Why do not these, who this opinion hold,
Go hang themselves before that they are old?
Or in their Gardens,
TIMON
like, erect
Faire Gibbets for the Scholars of their Sect?
What tends their life unto? why should not they
Refuse to eat and drink; and, wisely, say,
"God, for our end, a certain day hath set,
"Which we shall reach, although we taste no meat.
Why do they shun a danger in the street,
Since they shall live their time, what e're they meet?
If they to any place, desire to go,
Why trouble they their feet to help thereto?
Since they are sure, that if decreed it were
They should come thither, they their pains may spare?
If thus I should have said, some men would deem me
To be more bitter then did well beseem me:
For, I confess that on the quick they grated,
Who in this manner have expostulated.
And I forbear it. Yet, this generation
Hath some who need this tart expostulation;
With whom loud noises more prevail by far,
Then do those proofs, that Faiths and Reasons are.
I know to these
Objections,
most replies;
I know their strength, and where their weakness lies;
I know what holy Scriptures, men mistake,
Which proofs of their assertions seem to make:
I know, how they their
Arguments
mis-lay,
From that of
Esau,
and the Potters clay:
I know what
Times
and
Termes
they misconceive,
And wherewithal themselves they do deceive.
I know with what nick-names of heresy,
Some Readers will for this my
Muse
bely;
And that nor they, who called
Armini
•
ns
be,
Nor they who reprehend them, will with me
Be friends for this; for neither those nor these
Am I desirous to offend or please.
But to uphold the Truth, which is bely'd▪
Injuriously by most of either side.
I know their spite, their vinegar, their gall;
I know what spirit most are led withal
Who spread the
Doctrines
which I have reproved,
And know such Reason nev
•
r to be moved,
With favor to them that I dare to say,
It is the nearest and the straightest way
To all profaneness. It the b
•
idle gives
To
•
arnall liberties, and makes the lives
And hearts of many men so void of care:
From hence distractions; hence despairings are.
Hence mischiefs; hence self murders do arise;
Hence is it that such multitudes despise
Good discipline: yea, this contemned makes
The life of
Fai
•
h,
if once it rooting takes:
Disableth pious practices outright▪
And where it roots, destroys
Religion
quite.
Let no man then admit into his thought,
That God Almighty hath decreed ought
Which on his
Justice
may infringement bring,
Or on his
Mercy
in the smallest thing:
Or that his
Wisdom
anything ordains
Without the means which thereunto pertains:
Or think, because our sin he doth permit
That therefore he necessitateth it:
Or that he wills those errors he foresees,
As he the works of righteousness decrees:
Or, that our human actions cyphe
•
s are:
Or, that within this world there ever were
Or shall, those persons be, whom God will call
Unto account, until he give them shall,
At least, one
Talent,
which may serve unto
The working of that work he bids them do.
Let no man dream these dreams; nor censure this,
Till he hath well considered what that is
Which I deliver. For in this dark way,
Our learnedst Clerks do sometimes run astray.
Nor let them think that I concur with all,
Who in appearance hold this
Tenet
shall:
Or that I differ from all men that may
In terms dissent from what I seem to say.
For they that in expression disagree
In one
well-meaning,
oft united be.
And either (if that they in love contend)
Shall then at length, obtain their wished end.
Oh! labor this, all you that would be thought
GOD'S glo
•
y in your studies to have sought;
That though
offenses
come, they may not move
Disunion; but God's
worthy ones
approve.
And let us with a true sobriety,
So heed his
Actions of eternity,
That we may see in them a boundlesnesse,
Beyond our human wisdom to express;
Leave quarrelling about his ways unknown,
And take more heed here after to our own.
For, though God pleaseth, other while, to use
Our vulgar
Termes,
some
notions
to infuse
Of his eternal workings, and apply
His deeds that way, to our capacity,
Disclosing them unto us one by one,
As if at several times they had been done,
(Be
•
ause our shallowness no means can find
To entertain them in their proper kind)
And though (respecting us who temp'ral be)
We say, that
God Almighty
doth
sores
•
e,
Foreknow
us, and
pr
•
destinate
; yet sure,
His
Essence
no such terms can well endure
In proper sense; Because with him, no
doom,
Word, Thought, or Act, is passed, or to come.
But all things present. Yea, all
Times,
and all
Those things which we by several names do call,
Our
Birth
•
,
our
Lives,
our
Deaths,
and our
Saluations,
Our
free-el
•
ctions,
and
pr
•
d
•
stinations,
Are all at once with God, without
foreseeing
;
Even all in
one-eternal-present-being.
Which few observing, many men have thought
That God's
et
•
rnall actions
should be wrought
Like ours in
Time,
which is, as if they should
Endeavor how the world they might enfold
Within a Nut-shell. And while thus men strive
(According to their fancies) to contrive
An order in God's
Workings,
they mistake them
Blasphemously, and orderlesse do make them.
Yea, to define his actions, they neglect
That part which is their duty to effect;
Themselves and others losing in a path
Which neither profit, end, nor safety hath;
And, by disputing what from us is hidden,
Disturb the doing that which God hath bidden:
I have digrest enough; and some there are
Who think, perhaps, that I have gone too far.
Yet, let it not be judged impertinent,
That I have so pursued this
Argument.
For, want of minding what is here rehearsed,
Hath often times the
Pestilence
dispersed.
Yea, some who fondly said, that every man
Shall live his time decreed, do what he can;
And that each one at his fixed hour shall die,
'Gainst which he seeks in vain, a remedy:
Even these, made much good means of health neglected▪
Much wise and wholesome counsel be rejected;
And caused, oft, in this our common woe,
That
Death
was brought and carried, to and fro.
But, lest in chasing them, I run astray;
I will prosecute again my purposed way.
The
Pestilence
doth show her self inclined
So variously, she cannot be defined.
She neither certain form, nor habit wears,
But, partly
metaphysical
appears,
And partly
natural.
She oft may carry
Her
Progress
on, by means that's ordinary;
But, rarely doth begin, or end her
Arrant,
Save by an extraordinary
Warrant.
It doth infect, and it infecteth not.
It is an
arrow
which is often shot
By God's own hand, from his far-striking bow▪
Without the help of any means below.
It is God's
Angel,
which to death can smite,
Miraculously, an
army
in a night.
It is a rational
Disease,
which can
Pick, with discretion, here and there a man;
And pass over those, who either marked are
For
Mercy
; or, a greater
Plague
to bear.
We see, it suiting hath to Natures laws,
A nat'rall
motion,
and a nat'rall
cause
;
For, as a Fire among great Buildings thrown,
Burnes
•
imber, melteth Metall, cracketh Stone,
Defaceth Statues, makes moist places dry,
The Vaults below to sweat, the tyles to fly
And manifests his force, in sev'rall kinds,
According to the objects which he finds:
So, hath the
Pestilence
a nat'rall power
To ha
•
den, fright, end
•
nger, or devou
•
e,
(And divers other changes to procu
•
e)
As she doth find a sev'rall temp'rature
In mind or body, fitting the rejection.
Or for the entertainment of
Infection.
These things considered. They who shall desire
To scape from this
Contagion,
must acquire
A double
Ward
▪ For, doubtless, there is none
That can resist it with one guard alone.
In times of Danger, vainly we presume
Upon our Iv'
•
y boxes of
Perfume.
To little purpose, we defend our noses,
With
Wormwood, Rue,
or with our
Radeliffe
Posies
Of tarred Ropes. Small warrant for our lives,
Are all such bodily
Preservatives,
As Cordial waters, Gums, Herbs, Plants, and Rootes,
Our simple or compounded
Antidotes.
Our
Boezar-stone
; our med'cines
Chymicall
;
Or, that high-p
•
ized Jewel wherewithal,
For horn of
V
•
icorne,
men cheated are:
Or, those unhallowed
Charmes,
which many wear.
For, these are far unable to withstand
The vigor of his incorporeal hand,
Who strikes for sin, unless to these we add
A Plaister which of better things is made.
Yea
Nature
fails, unless adjoin we do,
A med'cine
metaphisicall
thereto.
Moreover, fruitlessly devout are they,
And that they seek to God they falsely say,
Who willfully neglect, or else contemn,
That outward means, which Nature offers them,
And God provides, to cure, or to prevent,
The mischief of Diseases pestilent.
For, since we framed of souls and bodies are,
God pleased is, that we should have a care
To both of them; and labor how to find,
What appertains to either, in his kind.
He therefore, who desireth a defense
Against this
Arrow
of the
Pestilence
;
A complete
Armor
must from God procure,
And still be armed, his person to secure.
He must put on the
Helmet
of
Salvation,
And shoe his feet with holy
Preparation.
A
Bel
•
of
Truth
must for his loins be sought;
His
Brest-plate
must of Righteousness be wrought.
The
Shield
of
Faith,
his Target must become,
The darts of
Satan
to secure him from.
God's
Word
must be the
Sword
upon his thigh,
His
Prayers,
like continual shot must fly;
And he should keep forever his abode,
Within the shadow of Almighty God.
Or else the Workman looseth all his pain;
And he that watcheth, wake
•
h but in vain.
He also must expel out of the soul,
That filthiness of sin, which makes it foul.
He must avoid the crimes he lived in;
His
Physi
•
ke
must be
Rue
(even Rue for sin)
Of
Herb of Grace,
a Cordial he must make;
The bitter Cup of true Repentance take;
The
Diet
of
Sobriety
assume;
His House with works of Charity perfume;
And watch, that from his heart in secrecy,
Arise no savors of Hypocrisy.
He must believe, God so doth love him, that
His everlasting good, is aimed at
In all he suffers; and, that, God doth know,
And mark his nature, and his temper so,
As that he will impose nor more, nor less,
Than shall be needful for his happiness.
For, such a
Faith,
will keep h
•
m still content,
Still lowly, under every cha
•
tisement;
Still thankful, whatsoever doth befall;
And
Blessings
make, of what we
Plagues
do call.
He must, moreover with a holy
Fear,
In all his Christian duties pe
•
severe;
Still watchful, and at no time daring ought
Which may from God divert him in a thought:
(So near as possibly, the pour of man,
So great a diligence endeavor can.)
For, round about him are a thousand Feares,
A thousand Dangers, and ten thousand Snares,
And, as a
Traveler,
who for his Bridges,
To pass deep waters, having naught but ridges
Of narrow Timbers, dares not cast his eye
From off the Plancke, nor set his foot a wrie;
•
ecause beneath him, he beholds a
Streame,
That runs, and roars, and gapes to swallow him:
So, he that must an hourly passage make,
Through such like
Plagues,
as this whereof I speak,
(And many dangers waiting on him hath,
To catch him, if he slip his narrow Path)
Had need be careful that he never stray,
Nor swerve in anything beside the way.
Let, therefore, every man desire, at least▪
This power; that his desirings may be blest,
With such pe
•
formances as he shall need,
Or, have his
Will
accepted for the
Deed.
And, let him to his
Calling
ever stand:
For, whosoe're doth leave that place unmann'd
Wherein God set him;
•
orfeits that reward
(And is d
•
prived of that
Angel guard)
Of which his
Muse
doth prophesy, who says,
We shall pr
•
s
•
rved be in all our ways.
Far is it from my nature, to reprove
With proud insultings, those whom fear did move
To step aside: For, good and pious men
Give way to nat'rall frailties now and then;
And, we whom God emboldened now to stay,
Hereafter, from less frights may run away.
Yea, sure I am, that if it do not flow
From Love, and Pity, that their s
•
apes we show,
God may, and will (our folly to deride)
Make them dare stand, where we shall sear to bide.
And therefore, hoping none amiss will take
What I have writ for truth and con
••
ience sake;
(That men in times to come might look into
This duty, and be heedful what they do)
I will affirm, th
•
t everyone hath erred,
Who in his lawful
Calling,
was deterred
So much, as in
•
his danger to forsake it:
And, though a trifling matter many make it,
I know, the most apparent shows of terror
Are not excuse enough for such an error.
For, that we should not in such cases dread
The greatest perils: God hath promised,
That if we keep ou
•
ways,
and him obse
•
ve,
He will not only, from this Plague preserve;
But, cause us w
•
thout ha
•
me to walk among,
Even
Adders, Drago
•
s, Lions
old and young:
By which pernicious creatures, and untamed,
Is ev'
•
y danger meant
•
hat can be named.
These things we must obse
•
ve, if we will hope
God's extraordinary blow to stop;
And other circumstances must attend
Those means. But, they so nat'rally depend
On what precedes; that in well doing one,
We cannot leave the other part undone.
Such were those holy med'cines, which prevented
The Plague, at
Nineveh,
when she repented;
Such
Israel
used, and it saved them;
Such kept the Plague out of
Jerusalem
;
And when the bloody
Angel
came, had power
To stop him in
Araunab
's threshing floor.
Thus
Hezekiah
was preserved; thus
David
Was from the very same contagion saved:
And if unfeignedly we pra
•
tise thus,
He doth of safety also warrant us.
Yea (through this means) we shall be fortifi'd
With such a coat of proof, as will abide
That murth'ring
Arrow
which in darkn
•
sse flies,
From God
•
own
Bow,
unseen of mortal eyes.
And when we thus have done, attempt we may
To stop the
Shaft,
that flies abroad by day;
I mean the nat'rall Sickness, whi
•
h doth smite
By means, that is appar
•
nt to the sight.
For, as God striketh, oft, immediate blows
By some immediate way: right so he shows
A nat'rall cure to those, whom he doth please
To warrant from the natural
Diseas
•
▪
Thus, he for
Hezekiah
's health revealed
That
Plaister,
wherewithal his grief was healed,
Thus from this
Plague
have many been secured,
And many saved, who the stroke endured.
Here I could show, what
Med
•
cines
may be took
To cure or to prevent the outward stroke;
To qualify the
Air,
what might be used;
What
Diet
should be taken, what refused;
What
Symptoms
do attend on this disease;
What good, or ill, from
Labor,
or from
Ease
Too much, or over-little, may be got:
But, to proceed in this presume I not,
For, to prescribe external med'cines, here
To every man, too hard a task it were;
Since they must often changed and mixed,
•
e,
As we the sickness changeable do see,
And as we find the measure of
infection,
The parties
Age,
his
Temper,
or
Complection.
To those I the
•
efore will commit this part,
Who are allowed professors of that
Art
;
Advising all, that none their aid refuse,
Nor out of season, their assistance use.
For, if, before our peace with God be made,
We (seeking outward means) a cure have had;
That means shall be the means our death to
•
et:
That cure shall only cure us, to beget
Another
Plague:
unless we have repented
Our folly, and the mis
•
hiefe, so, prevented.
Yea such, as take that course, do sugar over
Strong poy
•
ons, and skin up a festering sore;
Because those med'cines, and that watchfuln
•
sse
(From which they did expect a good succes
•
e)
Not being with repentance sanctified,
Nor (in their place) with faithfulness applied,
Corruptd grow; make what was evil, worse;
And (in the stead of blessings) bring a curse.
This
Reason
proves, For, since it is from
Sin
Whence all our griefs, and sicknesses have been:
We shall as vainly strive th'effects to stay,
Till we the Causes first remove away,
As if we went about to draine a River,
Before to stop the Springs we did endeavor.
And, as we neither should over much r
•
lie
On outward helps; nor take disorderly
The means of Health;
•
ight so, beware we must
That we do never use it with distrust.
For as, in seeking safety, most men use
Preposterous courses (whence much harm ensues)
Or else (when likely med'
•
ines they have got)
Presume so far, on what avail
•
h not,
Without God's blessing; that, from him they take
His due, and of his Creatures,
Idols
make:
So, some there be so fearful, that their
Fear
Corrupts their blood, where no infections were;
Begets that
Plague
within them which they shun;
And makes it follow, when they from it run.
No place, or counsel can of rest
•
ss
•
re them;
No means their hope of safety can procure them:
But still they are distempered; ever taking
New courses, and new Med'cines always making.
Of all they meet (if any meet they dare)
For some
Receipt,
their fi
•
st enquiries are.
What e're he be that tells them, that, or this
Prevents the
Plague
; it straightways practice'd is.
They swallow down hot
Wa
••
rs, Sirrups, Drinks,
Choake up their Chambers wit
•
Perfumes,
&
Stinks
;
With
Rue,
and
Wormwood
cram their bowels up,
With
Physic
break their fa
•
ts, and dine, and su
•
:
Yet, still d
•
spaire, as if that world of sluffe
(Which they devoured) were not half enough.
And, this their terror, doth to me appear,
A greater
Plague,
then that which they do fear.
Mistake me not; I do not here condemn
The Christian, and the filial fear of them,
That are (with holy dread) employed about
Such means, as woe
•
keth true salvation out.
Nor blame it, when a moderate fear doth make
Alarums
in us,
Reason
to awake.
For, while our
Fear
preserves a moderation,
It is a very necessary
passion,
And stands for
Sentinel,
to bid us Arm,
When any Foe doth seem to menace harm.
Nor do I check that nat'rall Fear, which from
The knowledge of our weaknesses doth come:
For, want of that, is mere stupidity;
And such, can neither feel a Misery,
Nor ta
•
te God's Mercies, with more profit, than
The brutish Creatures wanting Reason, can;
Who, of their pains, or pleasures, naught retain
Much longer, then it doth in act remain.
I count not each man valiant, who dares die,
Or venture on a Mischiefe desperately,
When, either heat of Youth, or Wine, or Passion
Shall whet him on, before consideration:
For, thus a Beast will do, and hath (no doubt)
As much foresight in what he goes about;
As those blind
Bayards,
who courageous be
In perils, whose events they do not see.
Nor will I any man a
Coward
call,
Although I see him tremble, and look pale
In dangerous attempts▪ unless he slack
His just
Resolves,
by basely stepping back.
For, as the greater part of men w
•
find
To laugh and blush, by nature, much inclined:
So, many have a nat'rall inclination,
To trembling, paleness, or some other passion,
Which, no
Philosophy
can take away,
Nor any human wit, or strength, allay:
And if their
Apprehension
proveth better
Then other Men's; their
Passions
are the greater▪
Because their searching wits find pe
•
ills out,
Whereof the
Dullard
(never having doubt)
Hath boldly ventured on them, and out-dared,
Wh
•
t being heed
•
, him to death had scared.
Give me the
Man,
that with a quaking arm
Walkes with a steadfast mind through greatest harm;
And though his flesh doth tremble, makes it stand
To execute what
Reason
doth command.
Give me the
Soul,
that knowingly descries
All dangers, and all possibilities
Of outward p
•
rills; and yet doth persevere
In every lawful action, howsoever.
Give me that
Heart,
which in it self doth war
With many frailties (who li
•
e Traitors are
In some besieged Fort) and hath to do
With outward Foes, and inward Terrors too;
Yet of himself, and them, a conquest makes,
And still proceeds in what he undertakes.
For, this is double-
valor
; and such men
(Althoug
•
they are mis-censured now, and then)
Enjoy those minds that best composed are;
In lawful quarrels are without compare;
And (when the
Coward,
hoodwink'd goes to fight)
Dare cha
•
ge their sternest Foes with open sight.
Let no Man therefore glory, or make boast
Of Courage, when they feel their
Dread
is lost,
Or think themseles the safer, when they find
Their Fear is gone, whilst Perill slays behind;
Especially, when they besieged appear,
With such like
Pl
•
gues,
as this, we treat of here.
For that endangers, rather then secureth;
Since
Custom,
or else
Ignorance
procu
•
eth
That bru
•
ish
•
earlesnesse: And, where we see
Such hardiness, God's
judgments
fruitless be.
There is required, yet, one
Caveat
more
To perfect that, which hath been said before;
Even this; that we grow watchful, lest the while
We trust in God, we do ourselves beguile
With fruitless confidence, and on his grace
(Beyond his warrant) our assurance place.
For, many thousands wondrous forward are
In God's large promises to claim a
•
hare;
Who, those
conditions
never mused on,
Which he doth ground his
Covenant
upon.
And as the
Jews
(from whom they take example)
Bragg'd of their outward worship, and their
Temple,
As if God's
League
extended unto all,
Who could themselves, the sons of
Jacob,
call,
Without respecting their partic'lar
Way:
So, we have some among us, that will say,
They trust in God,
and that, in this
infection,
They full assurance have of his protection:
Because they formally his
Truth
profess;
Performe external works of
Holiness
;
Or visibly, with such, partakers are,
With whom the
Pledges
of God's love appear.
But, they that on these ou
•
ward works rely,
Without true faith, and true sincerity;
Commit those guilded
sins,
whose gloss will wear,
And leave their na
•
urall corruptions bare:
Yea they, of their professions,
idols
make;
And, will the
Covenant
of God
•
istake,
Until in his
conveyances,
they see
What duties, on their par
•
s, required be.
God promise
•
th (indeed) all such to save,
Who in his holy
Church
their dwelling have;
And th
•
t he will vouchsafe them his de
•
ence
From dangers of the noisome
Pestilence
:
But they must love him, and inuoke him, then,
Or else the
Bargain
is unmade agen.
Thus much infers the
Psalmist,
in that
Ode,
Which p
•
ophecies the
saving Grace of God.
Those, therefore, too too much on them assume,
Yea, (foolishly) of mercy they presume,
Who boast of God's protection, and yet tread
Those paths, which to a sure destruction lead.
I do not mean, when any man mis
•
does
Through frailty, or unwillingly mis-goes:
But when, with liking, and without remorse,
He willfully pursues a wicked Course.
For, such, their confidence on God, bely,
Depending on their own
security
;
And cannot see those dangers they are in,
Because
•
heir
Consciences
have seared been.
How many thousands in the Grave are laid,
Who, in their life-times, impudently said
They should be safe in God? yet never took
His counsel, nor one vanity forsook
For love of him? How many have I heard
Presumptuously affirm, they never feared
The danger of God's
Arrows?
though they flew
At n
•
one, at midnight, and so many slew
In every street? yea, shamelessly profess
Their trust in God, to cause their fearlesnesse,
Yet, nothing for the love of him
•
ndevour?
How boldly have I seen them to pe
•
sever
In every
•
in, when God's fierce
Angel
stood,
Even just before them, all embru'd in blood;
And slaught'ring r
•
ūd about thē neighbors, brothers
Their friends▪ their kinsmē, children, fathers, mothers,
And some of every sort? Nay, I have heard
Of such, who were not any jot afear'd
To ba
•
gain for their Lust, in times to come,
Within the compass of the self-same room,
Where (at that instant) they beheld their wives
Lye newly dead; or lab'ring for their lives.
They waste God's
Creatures
in luxurious diet;
Consume their times in wantonness, and riot;
They feasts, and merriments, in
Taverns
keep,
Whilst others in the
Temples,
fast, and weep;
Th
•
y p
•
rsecute their brethren, and the poor;
Pe
•
form no good; forbear no sin the more;
And live so carelessly, as if they thought,
That, when the greatest wickedness they wrought,
It proved, their trust in God to be the greater;
And, that lewd
works,
showed forth their
faith
the better;
Or else that God the more obligement had,
Because he was so good, and they so bad▪
Even such there are. And these make boastings will,
Of
•
rust in God, yet such continue still.
Alas, it is but vain to say
Lord, Lord,
Or to profess a confidence in word,
Where lively
Faith
appears not: for, God granteth
Protections unto none, but whom he planteth
Within his
Vineyard
; wherein grows no tree,
But in some measure, it will fruitful be;
Or
•
lse, a
storm
shall come, which down will shake it,
With whatsoever, carnal props, we s
•
ache it.
No high-presuming
Cedars,
nor stiff
Oaks,
Are those whom God exempteth from the strokes
Of his tempestuous wrath: but, that which bendeth
To every blast, which he in
Judgment
sendeth,
As doth a bruised, or low-stooping
Reed,
Which, by the bowing, is from breaking free'd.
Yea those, who really within the shade
Of his defense, have their abidings made;
Those only, may depend on his protection,
Amid the ragings of this hot
Infection.
And who are these, but such, as (when they see
The threa
•
ned
Plague)
afraid, and humbled be?
Such, as through hearty love, ashamed grow,
That they so good a God displeased so:
Such, as are sory for their passed crimes,
And truly purpose, in all future times
A better life: Such, who, for conscience sake
(And not through servile fear) themselves betake
To pious exercises: such, who strive
To mortify their lusts, and how to live
As worthy their free-calling: such, as they,
Who every hour, do labor, watch, and pray▪
Their duties to perform; and dare not peep
Abroad at morning, or at ev'ning sleep,
Till they the sacrifice of thanks have paid,
For favors past; and beg'd for future aid.
Such, as on God's own pleasure can rely,
And, in his Faith resolved are to die.
Such, as have Charity; and working are
Their safeties with continual
joy,
and
fear
•
▪
Even such as these, securely may repose
When twenty thousand dangers them enclose.
On these, God's
Angels
wait▪ and these they shall
From stumbling keep, when many Millions fall▪
From every kind of harm they shall be free,
And sleep, where fears, and mischiefs thickest be:
Yea, though that seize them, which the
Plague
we cal,
It shall to them become no
Plague
at all;
But rather be their forth'rance, to acquire
That perfect
happiness,
which they desire.
Let no man, therefore, in this
Visitation
Tye God unto the temp'rall preservation;
Or be discouraged, if he shall please
To exercise him under this
Disease,
Supposing, he inflicteth it on none
(As some fools think) but
Reprobates
alone.
For he did
Hezekiah
thereby strike▪
He, by th
•
s
Malady,
or some such like,
Afflicted holy
David,
his Elected;
Whose Reprobation is of none suspected.
And though just men from temporal infection
Shall find more certainty of God's protection,
Then others do: yet sure, that
Pestilence
(From which God promised absolute defense)
Is not that sickness which the body slays;
But that, which death unto the soul conveys.
Our
••
rthly griefs, to heavenly joys do rear
•
,
And why should any Man or grudge or fear
A mortal wound, so he might gain thereby
A body clothed with immortality?
Or why should we repine, in missing that,
Which (to our damage) we had aimed at;
When God doth give us more then we desired;
•
nd lifts us higher, then our hopes aspired?
To him due praises, rather, let us give,
Whose love to us, is better, then to live.
But, I have said enough to this effect,
And if, what I have spoken, have re
•
pec
•
,
We shall (I hope) hereafter well dis
•
erne,
What, by this
Judgment,
we are bound to learn▪
How much to trust; how much to hope, or fear;
What outward means, or inward helps there are,
Whereby, this heavy
Plague
may be prevented▪
Or entertained, with a breast contented.
So few (as yet) have thus prepared been,
That now of late it quickly rushed in
In spite of all our
Halberds,
and our
Watches.
And as a
Flame
(which in a Tempest, catches
On some full Barn) is blown about the
Village,
And fi
•
eth, here, the hopeful fruits of
Tillage
;
A
Cottage
there; on the other side the way
A well-
•
ill'd
Stable,
or a
Rick
•
of Hay;
Another yo
•
; close by, doth menace harm
Even to the
Church
; forthwith consume
•
Farm
;
Some dwellings (now, and then) doth overgoe▪
Anon la
•
es waste a dozen in a row;
And still increase, go forward, and return,
Until the
Town
in every quarter burn:
So rag'd the
Pestilence.
And, as we see
Those woe
•
kmen, who, repai
•
ing breaches b
•
In
Thame,
or
Trent,
at first the
Banks
do raise▪
Shut clos
•
the
Sluce
•
,
strengthen up the
Bay's,
And l
•
bour seriously with much good hope,
While they perceive but some few gaps to stop:
But, when they see the Flood prevailing more,
(Ten breaches made, for
•
v'ry one before)
And all endeavors fail; they work forsake,
Leaving the waters their own cours
•
to take:
So, when this
Flood
began▪ we had
•
thought
To keep it back; and to that purpose w
•
ought:
But, when we saw it rise beyond our power,
We gave it way at pleasure to devour.
At first, the public
Officers
did show
Their skill in curbing this encroaching
Foe,
Not sparing to be prodigal of pain,
The spreadings of
Infection
to restrain;
And every private family beside,
Against this danger did for arms provide▪
Their
Yards,
and
Halls,
were smoked with perfume,
To stop the stinks, which thither might presume.
Their
Chambers
furnished were with
Antidotes,
With
Viols, Boxes, Glasses, Gallipots,
All filled with munition of defense
(As they supposed) against the
Pestilence.
Some did in
Meats
their means of safety think;
Some
Epicures
did arm themselves with
Drink
;
Some, foolishly did build up monstrous hope
•
Upon the smoking of
Tobacco shops
;
(But this disease, without a Conscience making
Of their presuming on
Tobacco
taking,
Came thither too, and frequently did carry
Good-fellows
from their smoking
Sanctuary.)
Some, one, and some another course devised▪
Yet, every day more places were surprised.
Which, when we saw, and how it overcast
All temp'rall force; we thought upon (at last)
The help of God: and then we did repair
To crave his aid in
Fasting,
and in
Prayer,
Then some, through servile terror; some, for fashio
•
,
And some, out of a true humiliation,
Emplored aid from heaven; and showed in tear
•
Their
Hope,
their true
Repentance,
and their
Feares
:
But, whether God did for a while contemn
•
Ou
•
suit, because we gave not ear to him,
When first he called: or, whether he thought fit,
(That we the longer might remember it)
To fright us somewhat more: or whether we
Brought not such hearty penitence, as he
Expected from us: or appointed were
Some further trials of our
Faith
to bear:
Sure, some such cause there was; and for that cause,
God did not only seem to make a pause
In answ'ring our
Petition
; but, to chide
More sharply, and to throw it quite aside.
For with a doubled, and redoubled stroke
The
Plague
went on; and, in (among us) broke
With such unequal'd fury, and such rage;
As
Brittan
never felt in any age.
With some at every turning she did meet.
Of every
Alley,
every
Lane
and
Street
She got possession: and we had no way,
Or passage, but she there, in
Ambush,
lay.
Through Nookes, & Corners, she pursued the Chase,
There was no barring her from any place:
For in the public
Fields
in wait she laid;
And into private
Gardens
was convaid.
Sometime, she did among our
Garments
hide;
And, so, disperse among us (unespy'd)
Her st
•
ong
Infections.
Otherwhile (unseen)
A Servant, Friend, or Child betrayed hath been,
To bring it home; and men were fearful grown
To tarie, or converse, among their own.
Friends
fled each other▪
Kinsmen
stood aloof▪
The
Son,
to come withi
•
his
F
•
thers
roof
Presumed not; the
Mother
was constrained
To let her child depart unentertain'd.
The love, betwixt the husband, and the wife,
Was oft neglected, for the love of life;
And many a
•
ne their promise falsifi'd,
Who vowed, that naught but death should thē divide.
Some, to frequent the
Markets
were afraid;
And some to feed on what was thence purvay'd.
For on young pigs such purple spots were s
•
ene,
As marks of De
•
th on
Plague
-sick men have been▪
And it appeared that our suburbe-Hogs
Were little better, then our Cats, and Dogs▪
Men knew not, whither they might safely come,
Nor where to make appointments, nor with whom.
Nay, many shunned
G
•
ds-house,
and much did fear
So far to trust him, as to meet him there.
In brief, the
Plague
did such destruction threat,
And Feares, and Perils were become so great,
That most men's hearts did fail; and they to flight
B
••
ooke themselves, with all the speed they might:
Not only they, who private persons were,
But, such as did the public Titles bear.
The
Major
startled, and some say was gone:
But, when his Charge he truly thought upon,
It settled him; and he at Helme did 'bide
Until his room was orderly supplied.
And (let me do him right) it since appeared,
That, with go
•
d Diligence his Course he steered.
For, on hi
•
back were many burdens laid;
The Count
•
y of provisions us denay'd;
The greater part with sickness waxed froward;
Much want did make the poorer sort untoward;
That when I call to mind his heavy task,
And little help; me thinks it praise doth ask.
Most of his gowned-
Brethren
him forsook,
And to their Country Bow'rs themselves be
•
ooke;
Where, how they prayed, or what they sent by gift,
To feed the Poor; I leave it to the shr
•
ft
Of their own consciences; which best can tell,
What things they have performed ill, or well.
Physicians
were afraid, as well as these,
And neither
Galen,
nor
Hippocrates
Could yield them any warrant for delay;
And therefore (with the first) they went away.
Some
Leaches
of the Soul, (who should have staid)
Were much (nay somewhat over-much) afraid,
And had forgotten so, how to apply
Thei
•
heavenly
Cordi
•
ls
of Divinty,
Against the fear of
•
eath
; that when most dangers
Beset their Flocks; they left
•
hem unto strangers.
Nay▪ some there were, who did among us teach,
That Men should fly; & that, which they did preach,
They taught the people by example too.
Pray God, in oth
•
r things th
•
y may do so.
Few staid, of any calling or degree,
Who to their Country-
•
riends might welcome be;
Or, of themselves were able to provide
A place of Harbor, where they might abide.
Yea some, (to scape uncertain Death) did fly
Into the Iawes of certain Beggary,
By leaving of their Callings; and are flown
So far, and high a flight out of this
Town,
On borrowed-feathers; that their Neighbor
•
fear,
They never more will in their shops appear.
Those of our wanton
Gentry,
that could brook
No Air, but
London's; London
quite forsook;
And all that Crew of
Spend-thrifts,
whom (until
This
Pl
•
gue
did fright them) nor
Star-Chamber Bill,
Nor strictest
Proclamation,
could compel
Upon their own Inheritance to dwell;
Were now, among their racked
Tenants
fain
To seek for shelter; and to air again
Th
•
se mu
•••
Roomes,
which
•
heir more thrifty
Sire
•
Kept warm and sweet with hospitable Fires.
God grant, that where they come, they may do good,
Among their Tenants, by their neighbourhood.
Of some we hopeful are, they will be such;
And of some others we do fear as much,
That by their presence they will plague them more,
Then by their willing absence heretofore.
In many a mile you scarce could find a
Shed,
Or
Hovell,
but it was inhabited,
(Sometime with double Families) and
Stalls
And
Barns
were trimmed up instead of
Halls.
Those
Burgesses,
that walked in Gownes, and Furs,
Had got them coats, and swords, and boots, & spurs;
And, till you saw them ride, you would have sworn,
That, they, for horsemen, might have served the turn.
Those
Dames,
who (out of daintiness, and Pride)
The rustic plainness did (erewhile) deride,
(And, at a better lodging,
Fob,
would cry)
Beneath a homely roof were glad to lie;
And fawn on every Child, and every Groome,
That, so they might the welcomer become.
Those, who in all their life-time never went
So far, as is the nearest part of
Kent:
Those, who did never travel, till of late,
Halfe way to
Pancridge
from the City gate:
Those, who might think, the Sun did rise at
Bow,
And set at
Acton,
for ought they did know:
And dream, young
Partridge
suck not, but are sed
As
Lambes,
and
Rabbets,
which of eggs are bred:
Even some of these have journeys ventured on
Five miles by Land (as far as
Edmunton.
)
Some hazarded themselves from
Lyon-K
•
y
Almost as far as
Erith
down by Sea:
Some row'd against the stream, and stragled out
A
•
far as
H
•
un
•
low-heath,
or thereabout:
Some climbed
High-gate-hill,
and there they
•
ee
The world so large, that they amazed be;
Yea some are gone so far, that they do kno
•
Ere this, how
Wheat
is made, and
Malt
doth grow.
Oh, how they trudg'd, and busled up and down,
To get themselves a furlong out of town.
And how they were becumbred, to provide,
That had about a m
•
le or two to ride.
But when whole households further off were sent,
You would have thought the
Master
of it, meant
To furnish forth some
Navy,
and that he
Had got his neighbors
venturers
to be.
For all the near acquaintance thereabout,
By lending somewhat helped to set them out.
What hiring was there of our hackney
Iades?
Wh
•
t scouring up of old, and rusty blades?
What running to and fro was there to borrow
A
Safegard,
or a
Cl
••
ke,
until the morrow?
What shift made
Jack
for girths? what shift made
Gillian
To get her neighbors footstool, & her pillian,
Which are not yet
•
etu
•
n'd? How great a pother
To furnish, and unfurnish one another
In this great voyage did there then appear?
And what a time was that for
Bankrupts
here?
Those who had thought (by night) to steal away,
Did unsuspected shut up shop by day;
And (if good luck it in conclusion prove)
Two
dangers
were escaped at one
Remove:
Some hired
Palfr
•
yes
for a day, or twain,
But rode so far, they came not back again.
Some dealed by their neighbors, as the
Jews
At their departure did th'
Egyptians
use:
And some, (with what was of their own, content)
Tooke up their luggage, and away they went.
And had you heard how loud the Coaches rūbled;
•
eheld how Carres, and Cart
•
together jumbled;
S
•
ene how the ways with people
•
hronged were;
The
Bands
of Foot, the
Troupes
of Ho
•
semen there;
What multitudes away by
Land
were sent;
How many thousands fo
•
th by
Water
went;
And how the weal
•
h of
London
thence was borne;
You would have wondered; and (almost) have sworn
The City had been leaving her foundation,
And seeking out another situation;
Or, that some Enemy with dreadful power,
Was coming to besiege, and to devour.
Oh; foolish people, though I justly might
Authorize thus my
Muse
•
o mock your flight,
And still to flout your foll
•
es: yet, compassion
Shall end it in a kind expostulat
•
on.
Why with such childish terror did you try
To run from him, from whom you cannot fly?
Why left you so the place of your abode,
Not hasting rather to go meet your God
With true repentance, who forever hath
A mercy for us in his greatest wrath?
Why did you not your lawful callings keep?
But straggle from you
•
folds like wandering Sheep▪
That had no
Shepherd?
And, oh, why, I pray▪
You
Shepherds,
have you caused them to stray?
Your Neighbors why forsook you in distress?
Why did you leave your brethren comfortless?
When God did call for
Mourning,
why so fast
Did you to seek for mirth, and pleasures, hast?
And take away from other, when you fled,
What, in their need, should them have comforted?
If
Death
be dreadful, stay, and learn to die;
For,
Death
affects to follow those that fly.
Had you not
•
one, you might forever after
Have said, That
Sorrow profits more then Laugh
•
er.
You should have known that Death hath limits here,
And loosed was, where he did bound appear:
That many were prese
•
ved in th
•
flame,
And many burnt, that came not nigh the same.
Yea, some of you, be
•
ore from hence you went,
Had, of these Truths, got some experiment.
What
•
olly then, or Frenzy you bewitches,
To leave your houses, and go die in ditches?
Forego the Comfort, which your
Ci
•
ie
yields,
To venture for a lodging in the
fields?
Or (which is worse) to tràvell far, and find
Those prove ungentle, whom you hoped, kind?
A
Plague
so bitter, That might
Plagues
be choose
•
I would be Plague-sick, rather then so used.
Did you suppose the
Pestilence
would spare
None here, nor come to seize on any there?
All perished not, that did behind you stay;
Nor did you all escape, who fled away.
For, God your passages had so beset,
That He with many thousands of you me
•
.
In
Kent,
and (all along) on
Essex
side
A Troupe of c
•
uell
Fevers
did reside:
And ro
•
nd about, on every other Coast,
Of several Country-
Agues
lay an hoa
•
t.
And, most of them, who had this place forsook,
Were either slain by them, or
Pris'ners
took.
Sometime the
Pestilence
her self
•
ad been
Before them in their Lodging, at their Inn;
And hath arrested them upon the Bed,
Brought many sick away, and meny dead.
Sometime (again) she after them hath gone,
And when (perchance) she was not thought upo
•
:
Among their friends, and in their merriment,
Hath seized them, to their greater discontent.
She divers apprehended on the way,
Who to so many mischiefs were a prey;
That poorest beggars found more pity here,
And lesser grief, then richer men had there.
I do not mean concerning that neglect,
That barbarous, unmanly disrespect
Their bodies had among the clownish crew,
When from the tainted flesh the spirits flew.
For, if their carcasses they did contemn,
What harm, or what disease was that to them?
What pain, or torment was it, if that they
(Like carrion) in the fields, unburied lay?
What felt they, being
•
ragged like a Log,
Or hurled into a
Saw-pit
like a Dog?
What disadvantage could that
Doctor
have,
Who (learnedly) was drawn into his grave
By na
•
ed men? since those things do disgrace
The living rather, and do wrong the place
Th
•
t suffers, or allows that barb'rousnesse
To shame the Christian Faith, which they profess.
Alas; my heart as little can bemoan
A mangled carcass, as a broken stone▪
It is a living body, and the pains,
Which I conceive a broken heart sustains,
That moveth me: their grief, in life-time was,
And, whilst they lived, their sorrows did surpass
These feigned ones, as
Death,
and loathed
Care,
By
Life,
and true
Content,
excelled are.
Some, who forsook fair houses, large, and high;
Could scarcely get a
Shed
to keep them dry;
And such, who many bed
•
, and lodgings had,
To lie on straw without the doors were glad.
Some over-tyr'd with wea
•
inesse, and he
•
t,
Could not, for money, purchase drink, or meat;
But cruelly of succor were denied,
Till, through their faintness, they grew sick & died.
Some, who in
London
had been waited on
With many servants, we
•
e enclosed alone
In solitary places; where they m
•
ght
Find leisure, to repent them of their flight.
And, when they had supplies at any need,
The bringers did (like those that
Lions
feed)
Even throw it at them; or else some where set it,
Where (after their departures) they might fet it.
And many a one (no helper to attend him)
Was left to live, or die, as God should friend him.
Some, who unwisely did their homes forsake,
That trial of the
Country
they might make;
Have brought their lives to miserable ends
Before they could arrive among their friends.
Some, having reached the places they desired,
(With no mean difficulty, weak, and tyr'd)
Have missed welcome, where they sought relief;
And, stricken by unkindness, died with Griefe▪
The sickly
Wife,
could no
•
ssistance have
To bring her
Husbands
body to the grave.
But was compelled, with a grieved heart,
To act the
Parsons,
and the
Sextons
part.
And he, that wanted strength
•
o bear away
His mate, who dead within his presence lay;
Was fain to let the stinking body lie,
Till he in death should bear him company.
Ah me; what tongue can tell th
•
many woes,
The passions, and the many griefs of those?
What m
•
rtall pen is able to express
Th
•
ir great temptations in that lonelinesse?
What heart can think, how many a grievous fear
To those distressed people may appear,
Who are with such afflictions over-take
•
n?
Of every Cr
•
ature in the world forsaken?
Without a
Comforter
left all alone,
Where to themselves they must themselves bemoan,
Without a remedy? And where none may
Or know, or pity, what they
•
eele, or say.
Me thinks to muse on those who suffered thus,
Should bring to mind the mercy shown us,
And make our pens and voices to express
The love of God, with hearty Thankfulness.
For when no sor
•
owes of mine own I had,
The very thought of those hath made me sad.
And were it not that God hath given me
Some trya
•
ls of those Com
•
orting
•
, which He
For men in their extremities provides,
And from the knowledges of others hides:
Or felt I not, how prevalent God's power
Appears in us, when there is none of our:
What liberty he give's, when we do fall
Within the compass of an outward thrall:
And what contentments He bestows on them,
Whom others do neglect, or else contemn:
Yea, had I not believed him who says,
That God doth knowledge take of all our ways;
That He observes each rubb within our path,
With every secret sorrow, which it hath;
That he is neares
•
then, when we bemoan
His absence, an
•
suppose him furthest gone;
And often in us dwells, when Those abroad
(With most ins
•
lting) say;
Where is their God?
Had this been hidden from me: I had here
For every line I writ, dropt down a tear;
And in a flood of
sorrows
drench'd mine eyes,
When first I mused on these miseries▪
But I have known them, to my great content▪
And felt so oft, w
•
at comforts God hath lent,
When of all outward helps we are dep
•
ived;
That (could the same of all men be believed)
It would be thought, true
Pleasures
w
•
re possessed
Of none, but men forsaken, and distressed.
How ever; though such mercy God bestows,
And brings men comfort in their greatest woes;
Let none of us presume, (as some have done)
Without our
Circle,
foolishly to run;
Nor leave our proper
station,
that we may
Go seek our fortunes in an uncouth way.
Conceive me right; I do not here deny,
Or call in doubt the lawfuln
•
sse, to fly:
Nor am I of their counsel, who despise
All such as fled: nor, judge I too precise
Those, w
•
o the
Person,
or the
Place
avoid,
Which is with any noysomnesse annoy'd.
For, when the causes of remove, are just,
We then may fly the
Plague
; nay, then we must;
Since, those who will not, (in such cases) go,
Tempt God, and fail in what they ought
•
o do.
If that a
King,
or
Prince,
should live within
A City much infected, it were sin.
For he (no doubt) hath some Vice-gerent there
Who, in his absence, may supply his care:
Or, if that Place were certain of decay
By his departure; yet he might not stay.
The Reason is; there many thousands are
O
•
Towns, and Cities, that in him have share.
Who, would conceive, it were unjustly done,
That he should venter all their wealth in One.
And make great
Kingdoms
hazards to endure,
The welfare of one
City
to procure.
So,
Counsellers of State,
and he, whose Charge
Extends throughout the Common wealth at large,
With every other
Magistrate
beside,
(Except his power to s
•
me one place be tied)
Must shun the
Plague
; because that such, as he,
Sworne servants to the whole
Weale-public
be.
And since the safest
Physic
and defense
For Children, in the times of
Pestilence,
Is to remove them: they unwisely do,
Who, having wealth, and f
•
iends to send them to,
Neglect the means, by being over nice;
Or grudging at the charge, through avarice.
Moreover they, whose calling seems to lie
Within two sev'rall places, equally,
(Till some plain causes hinder) may be free
•
To live where safety best appears to be:
Unless their secret conscience do gain-say;
And who can judge of that, but
God,
and
They?
Yea, Men, on divers good occasions mo,
May from the places of Infection go.
For there be times of
stay,
and times of
going,
Which, everyone (that is discreet) well knowing,
Doth censure no partic'lar Man, at all:
But calling unto mind, that blessed
Paul
Was once even in a basket forth conveyed
From his Pursuers; yet no iotafraid
(At other seasons) to continue there,
Where bloody pe
•
secutions hottest were.
And if my words have done my meaning right,
My
Muse
denies not, but alloweth
flight:
Provided always, that Men do not fly
From Casuall
Plagues,
to Plagues with Certainty:
From those with whom the bands of
Charity,
Of
Duty, Friendship,
or
Affinity,
Or of their
Calling,
doth requi
•
e a stay.
Provided also, when they part away,
That as God blest them hath, they somewhat
••
nde,
To comfort those, who must abide behind;
And, that they trust not to their
Flight,
as though,
That, of it self could save: but, ra
•
her know,
And use it as the gracious means of him,
Who saves; and, not as that which saved them.
Let the
•
consider likewise, that the
Sin
Was partly theirs, which did the
Plague
begin;
And, in their absence (with a Christian fear)
Make suit for those, who must the burden bear,
From which they scape: yea, let them all confess
Their sins with penitenc
•
and humbleness;
Avoiding every pleasure, where they live,
Which out of mind, their
Brethren's
cares may drive;
Lest God pursue them whither they are fled;
There
•
eize upon them to their greater dread;
Or from them take away all due correction,
Which
Plague
were greater then this great
Infe
•
tion.
For, when his
Judgments,
God, in wrath, removes,
His
Mercy,
then, the greater
Judgment
proves.
There be, I know, some people gone away,
Who mi
•
ding our afflictions, night and day,
Have much bewailed our distressed case,
And sent up earnest prayers fo
•
this
Place
:
For, of their
Piety
good fruits are seen,
And, by their hands, the poor refreshed have been.
These, from this Den of
Slaughter,
were (no doubt)
By God's especial favor called out,
Who, for their sakes, I hope, those towns will spare,
To which, for sh
•
lter, they es
•
aped are,
As he did
Zoar.
And I wish they may
Obtaine their lives, and safeties for a prey.
But, there be some; (and would to God,
that some
Were but a little one)
who parted from
Our City walls, as if they had not gone
With
Vengeance
at their heels; or waited on
By fears and dangers; but, so finifi'd,
As if their meaning was, to show their pride
In Country
Churches,
for a week or twain,
Ride out like
Co
•
kneies,
and come home again:
The sorrows of their brethren they forgot;
In holy duties they delighted not:
In drunken meetings they their leisure spent;
In idle visits; foolish merriment:
And, to their Country-friends they carried down
Those sins that are too common in this Town.
Which (if they practice there, as here we do)
Will bring their wages, also, thither too.
These giddy
Runnawayes,
are they that were
Begin
•
s of that great unmanly fear,
Which did first author of disorder prove.
These, caused that improvident Remove,
Which did both wrong the welfare of the
Citi
•
,
Distract the
Country,
make it void of pity;
And, give occasion of those Tales which
Fame
Hath now dispersed, to our common shame.
For, if their flight had timely been provided,
(With Conscience and Discretion truly guided)
Th
•
i
•
profit here at home had been the greater,
And▪ f
•
iends abroad, had entertained
•
hem better.
And, yet I take small pleasure to excuse
T
•
ose
Pesants,
who so grossly did abuse
T
•
eir Manhood and Religion, in denying
T
•
e dues of Charity, to people dying.
For, though their folly might their fall deserve,
Yet we our Christian pity should preserve,
Our brother in extremities relieving;
Not adding sorrows to increase his grieving,
Nor taking notice of his evil deed
•
,
So much, as of that comfort which he needs:
Till, he r
•
freshed by a friendly
•
and,
His errors, by our love, may understand.
And, sure, there was a means to succor stranger
•
In their distress, and to escape the dangers
Of that
Infection,
(which so much was feared)
Had Understand
•
ngs eye be
•
ne better cleared;
And, that
Self-love,
and
Avarice,
removed,
Which kept good path
•
unseen, and unapproved.
But, since that easy knowledge hath been hid,
By willful blindness, well enough I did,
If, here, I (Satyrizing) should express
The
Countries
folly, and fo
•
getfulness
•
.
And yet, I will not write, to their disgraces,
What of some
Persons,
and particular
Places
Hath rumor'd been: lest I should spirit a blot
So black, as that it would not be forgot
In future Ages; but, make Times-to-come,
Suspect, they had denied their
Christendom.
For, shou
•
d our
Muse
(who, if she list thereto,
Cares not who frowns, or frets, at what we do)
Should she put on that strain of Bitterness,
With which their cruelty we could express:
Should we in our description of their Fear,
Cause all their Indiscretion to appear:
Should we illustrate here, the true Relation
•
,
Of what hath past in many
Corporations
;
What uproares in some
Towns
have raised been,
When
Londoners,
approaching them, were seen:
How master
Major
was straightway flocked about;
How they to Counsel went to keep them out;
How they their watches doubled, as if some
Had brought them news that
Spinola
would come:
And what ridiculous actions past among them;
Some few, perhaps, would think th
•
t we did wrong thē;
And, they would subjects be of scorn, and laughter,
For
•
ll their evil willers, ever after.
Or, should we tell what propable suspicion
Appear'd, sometime, of wisdom and discretion,
In goodman
Constable
; when, in a standing,
To wind-ward from the Rode (& there commanding
Brown bills, and Halberts) he examined
Such Travelers, as from the
City
fled:
And (at the very looks of them affrighted)
Sent feeble women, weary and benighted,
(Without or meat or drink) to try the field
•
What Charity, their better nature yields.
If this we told, it might go hard▪ when we
Should apprehended in their
Watches,
be.
Or, should we show, what polici
•
s did pleas
•
The wisdom of some rustic
Justices
;
Describe that wondrous witty stratagem
Which for a while was practiced by them
To starve the
Plague
; how Christianly they sought
That no provisions hither might be brought;
Should we produce their
Orders,
which of late
Were put in u
•
e, and wisemen laughed at:
Or, publish to the world what we have heard
Of their demeanors, when they were afeard:
How they were fooled by some of them that fled:
What course was taken to interre their dead:
How▪ he who for that work could hired be,
Was f
•
r his labor, chained to a tree
A full month after: how, they forced some
From their sweet wholesome houses forth to come;
And (being sick and weak) to make their bed
Within a palt
•
y new erected Shed,
Compos'd of clods; which near some Common-side
Their charitable
Worships
did provide:
Or, should I on some other matters touch
Which I have heard; it would enlarge too much
This book: and some of those, perhaps, perplex,
Whom I desire to counsel, not to vex.
But, I from aggravations will forbear,
And, those their oversights, at this time, spare.
For, some (although most others did not so)
Thei
•
love and Christian piety did show,
In counseling, in cherishing, in giving,
And, in the wisest manner of relieving.
Beside; I love the
Count
•
y,
as I pity
The sorrows and afflictions of the
City.
And (since they both are guilty) being loath
To side with either; I the faults of both
Have shown, so, that neither I abu
•
e.
Now, they that like it may; the rest may choose.
The third Canto.
The House of
MOURNING,
which most
•
ear,
(And fly so much) is praised here.
It shows that outward
Ioyes
and
Care,
Nor m
•
erly good, nor evil, are;
But things indiff'rent; which the
wise
Nor over-praise, nor under-prize.
The strife within our
Authors
breast
About his
stay,
is next expressed.
Then doth it orderly recite
What
Reason
argu'd for his flight:
What
Faith
alleged, to reprove
The Motives urging his remove:
What
Arms
for him, she did prepare,
To bide the shock of
Death,
and
Fear:
What proof she to his
Conscience
made,
That, he a lawful
Calling
had,
In midst of this great
Plague
to tarry,
By
Warrant-extraordinary:
What, thereupon he did conclude:
What
Joy,
and
Confidence
ensu'd:
How much this Favor he doth prize,
Above Earths glorioust Vanities:
How he his Time desires to spend:
And so, this CANTO hath an end.
HOw childish is the
World!
and what a path
Her Throng of brain-sick
Lovers
trodden hath!
Like brutish herds they troupe along together,
Both led, and leading on, they know not whither.
Much hoping, where no ground of
Hope
appears,
Much fearing, where indeed, there are no fears.
In those things pleased, which t
•
ue Mirth destroy:
For that thing grieved which procureth Joy:
Most shunning, what might bring most gain unto thē;
And seeking most, for what would most undoo them.
How few are so cl
•
are-sighted, a
•
to see
What pleasures mi
•
gled with afflictions be?
Or what conten
•
ments do concealed lie▪
Behind the seeming dangers which they fly?
How few have, by experience, unde
•
stood
That God hath sent their troubles for their good?
How few consider, to what fearful ends,
The fair smooth way, of easeful
Pleasure
tends?
And, therefore, oh! how few adventure dare
Where
Mournings,
rather then where
Laughters
are?
Though God himself prefer the house of
Griese,
Before vain
Mirth
; and
Pleasures
of this life
Hath termed
Thorns,
that choke the heavenly seed:
Yet few of us have taken so much heed
Of what the sacred
Volume
doth record,
(And, flesh and blood) distrusteth so the word
Of his fi
•
me
Truth)
that blindly we pursue
Our own vain counsels, and his
Tract
•
schew.
'It is therefore doubtful, it would vain appear,
If I should labor to discover here,
How many secret pleasures I have seen
While in the Ce
•
s o
•
Mourning
I have been.
And, what contentments God bestowed hath,
When I have walked the solitary path
Of
Disrespect
; (ass
•
ulted by those fears,
Which oft affront us in this
Vale of tea
•
es)
O
•
what prevailing hopes I have possessed,
When I, beyond all hope, have seemed oppressed.
For, vulgar men, do such expressions hold
To be but idle
Paradoxes,
told
By those, who grown distempered, through some gri
•
f
Vent melancholy passions, past belief.
And as our Vpland
Pesants,
from the shores
Beholding how the Sea swells, fomes, and roars,
Iud
•
e foolishly, that
•
v'ry
Seaman
raves,
Who talks of mirth and safety on the waves:
So, they will fondly pass their doom on me,
Who strangers to the Seas o
•
Sorrow be.
But, though the world allow not what I say,
Yet, that the
Love
of God, proclaim I may;
That, I may justify him in his
Word
;
That for mine own avail I may reco
•
d
What I have seen: and that
experience
might
Encrease my
hopes,
and
hope
put
fear
to flight,
In future sufferings: here I testify,
(And Heaven is witness, I affirm no lie)
My soul did never feel more ravishment,
Nor ever tasted of more true content,
Then when my heart, nigh broke with secret pain,
Hath borne as much as e're it could sustain;
And struggled with my passions, till it had
Attained to be excellently sad.
Yea, when I tears have poured out, where none
Was witness of my grief but God alone,
He hath infused pleasures into me,
Which seldom can in public taste
•
d be.
Such
Griefe
is Comforts
Mother.
And I mow
Oft times with mirth, what I in tears did sow.
Before my eyes were d
•
yed; I have had
More cause of singing then of being sad.
The Lamp in darkest places gives most light;
And truest Ioyes arise from Sorrowes night.
My
Cares
ar
•
Blessed Thistl
•
s,
unto me,
W
•
ich wholesome are, although the
•
bitter be:
And though their leaves with prick
•
be overgrown▪
(Which pain me) yet their flowers are full of down,
Wher
•
on my head lies easy when I sleep:
And I am never saddest when I weep.
Yet, long it was before I could attain
This
Mystery:
Nor doth it appertain
To all. For, even as
Sarah
had not leave
Within her body
Isaac
to conceive,
(Which laughter signifies) until in her
Those customs
•
ailed which in women are:
So, in our souls, true Ioyes are not conceived,
Till we by some afflictions ar
•
bereaved
Of carnal appetites, and cease from su
•
h
Vain pleasures as affect us overmuch.
To little purpose do they look for these
Conc
•
ptions,
who are evermore at ease.
Such comforts are of those but rarely found,
Whose wheel of
Fortune
never runneth round▪
No soul can apprehend what maketh glad
The grieved heart, but his that grief hath had,
And various interchanges: nor can he
Who knows the joys that in such sorrows be
As these I mean, a true contentment take
In any merriment, this world can make:
(No not in all her pleasures) if among
Her sweets, there should be sharpness wanting long.
For (being fearful that his bodies rest
The souls true peace might secretly molest)
His mirth would make him dull: his being jolly
(As worldlings are) would make him melancholy:
And (if no other cause be thought upon)
Would g
•
ieve, because the sense of grief were gone.
Whilst I have gallopt on in that
Career,
Which youth, in freedom, so affecteth here;
And had the most delightful blandishment,
My youth could yeed me for my hearts content:
When I in handsome robes have been araid,
(My
Tailor,
and my
Mercer
being paid)
When daily I on change of dainties fed;
Lodg'd, night by night, upon an easy bed,
In lordly Chambers; and had therewithal
Attendants forwarder then I to call,
Who brought me all
•
hings need
•
ull: when at hand▪
Hounds, Hawkes, and Horses were at my command:
When choose I did my walks,
•
n hills, in valleys,
In Grove
•
, near Springs, or in sweet garden allies▪
Repo
•
ing either in a natural shade,
Or in neat A
•
bors, which by Art were made:
When I m
•
ght have
•
equir'd without denial,
The
Lut
•
,
the
Organ,
or deep-sounding
Viol
•
,
To cheer my spirits; with what else beside
Was pleasant: when my friends did this provide
Without my cost or labor: Nay, when all
Those pleasures I have shared, which be
•
all
In praises, or kind welcommings, among
My dearest friends; my soul retained nor long
Nor perfect rest, in those imperfect things:
But, often droupt amid their promisings,
Grew dull, and si
•
kly: and, contrariwise
Hath pleased been in want,
•
and miseries.
Fo
•
, when long time, even all alone they laid me,
Where every outward comfort was denayd me▪
To many cares and wants unknown obtruded;
From fellowship of all mankind excluded;
Expos'd to slandrous censures, and disgrace;
Subjected to contempts, and usage base;
With Tortures threatened, and what those attends;
By Greatmen frowned on; blamed of my Friends;
In
•
ulted on by Foes; and almost brought
To that for which their malice chi
•
fly sought:
Even then, my spirits mounted to their height,
And my
Contentment
slew her highest flight.
In those di
•
easings, I more joy received,
Then can from all things mortal be conceived.
In that contemned estate, so much was cleared
My
Reasons
eye; and God so bright appeared
To my dim-sighed
Faith
; that, lo, he turned
My Griefes to Triumphs Yea, me thought, I scorned
To labor for assistance from abroad,
Or beg for any favor, but from God.
I feared not that which others thought I feared;
Nor felt I pain, in that which sharp appeared:
But, had such inward quiet in my breast,
Till outward ease made way to my unrest;
That, all my Troubles seemed but a Toy.
Yea, my Affliction so encreast my Joy,
That more I doubted loss of my content,
By losing of my close imprisonment,
Then ever I can fear the bodies thrall,
Or any mischief which attend it shall.
For, as if some
Antipathy
•
rose
Betwixt the pleasures of the world, and those
Enjoyed then; I found t
•
ue Ioyes begin
To issue ou
•
, as they were entering i
•
.
Ti
•
l others brought me hopes of my Release,
I scarcely held it worth my hopefulnesse.
I had no frighting dream; no waking care:
I took no thought for meat, nor what to wear;
I slighted frowns, and I despised the threat
Of such as threatened, were they mean or great▪
I laughed at dreadful Rumors, and disdained
Of any sufferings to have then complained,
I valued not a jot the vulgar doom,
Nor what men prat
•
d might of me b
•
come.
I mind
•
d no such trifles, wherewith you,
And I, and others, are oft busied now:
But, being, as it were exiled, then,
From living in the world, with other men,
Twixt
God,
and mine own
Conscien
•
e,
to and fro,
My thoughts, in a quotidian walk, did go.
With Contemplations, I was then inspired,
Beseeming one that wholly was retired.
I thought, like him, that was to live all
••
e;
I did like him, that had to do with none.
And, of all outward actions left the care
Unto the world, and those who lived there,
Nor hath God only pleased been to show
What comforts from a p
•
ivate grief may flow,
But, that a new experience might be taught me,
He to the house of
Public-s
•
rrow
brought me
In this late
Pestilence
▪ And, there I saw
Such inward
joy
commixt with outward
awe
;
Things
bitter
with such
sweetnesses
allayed;
Such
pleasures,
into
sorrows
cup convaid;
Such fi
•
me-
assurance,
in the greatest dangers;
Such
f
•
endlines,
when others friends were strangers;
Such
f
•
eedome
in restraint; such
•
ase
in pain;
Such
life
in death, and every fear so vain,
(Which outwardly affrights) that
Pleasures
Court
Would half be robbed of her large resort,
(And stand less visited,) if men could see
What profits in the Cels of
Sorrow
be.
For, he that knew what wisdom there is had,
Would say that
mirth
were foolish,
laughter
mad:
That
•
ase
perpetu
•
ll bringeth endless
pain:
That carnal
joy
arives at
hope in vain:
That, from all outw
•
rd
perils
•
o be free,
M
•
y prove most per
•
llous▪ that,
h
•
alth
may be
The d
•
adl'est
sickness:
that, our
pleasures
are
But pit-f
•
ll
•
▪ our
se
•
urity
a snare;
And, that sometimes those things to which we run,
May bane us more, then those we s
•
eke
•
o shun.
I found it so. And, in my blamed
slay,
(Whilst others f
•
om the
Plague
made haste away)
I gained some renewings of that
•
es
•
▪
Whereof I h
•
d been formerly possessed.
It forced foll
•
, further to depart:
It brought God's me
•
cies nearer to my heart:
Brave
combats
in my soul did then begin,
Which I took courage from, and pleasure in.
New
trials
of my Frailty did befall;
And, of God's love, I had new p
•
oo
•
es withal.
In all my discontentments, such con
•
ents,
And of God's woe
•
kings, such experiments
Vouchsafed were; that crowned should I live,
With all those glorious wreathes that
King
•
can g
•
ve,
And had by them obtained each happin
•
sse,
Which woe
•
ldlings in their greatness do
•
possess;
I would not sell the comfort of my s
•
ay
For that, and all which those imagine may.
Nor do I over-prize the same, altho,
The ignoran
•
e of some will think I do:
For, it hath left within me, ever since,
Of God's firm love, so strong a confidence,
That, whatsoever accidents betide,
I hope to stand the better fortifi'd
Whilst here I live: and that no time to come
Can send me to a place, so perilsome,
That I shall fear it, or, to undergo
The dreadful'st perils man can fall into;
If that my
calling
do oblige me to it,
Or God, in Justice, m
•
ke me undergo it.
In other
cases,
I expect no mo
•
e,
But, rather, less imboldning then be
•
ore.
For, he that any dangerous task assumes,
Wi
•
hout good warrant, fo
•
lishly presum
•
s;
Tempts God; and justly perisheth, unless
The ve
•
le of
Mercy
hide his willfulness.
Yea, they who over desp'rately have dared
Bold things at first; at last have basely feared,
Re
•
enting their fool-hardiness▪ in vain,
When hope was lost, of turning ba
•
k again.
For, though from dang
•
r
•
, griefs, and miseries,
Far greater comforts oftentimes arise,
Then from prospe
•
ity (if we attend
God
•
pleasure, and accept what he doth send)
Y
•
t, o
•
themselves, nor
pains,
nor
pleasures
can
Felicitate; nor is the wit of man
So perfect, that precisely he doth know
His own just temper, or his nature so,
As to appoint himself, what will be needing
Of
weal,
or
woe,
(naught wanting, or exceeding)
And therefore, as some man hath by affecting
Ease, wealth, or temp'rall fame, (without respecting
God's pleasure) often perished by that
Which his unbounded
will
ha
•
h reached at;
So, they who shall that
•
ase or wealth contemn
(Which God by law
•
ull means doth offer them)
And they, who shall unthankfully refuse,
Of any outward ble
•
sing, means to use,
(Through discontent, self trust, or willful pride)
When they might honestly those means provide▪
Even both of these are g
•
ilty of offense,
Against the wise ete
•
nall
Providence:
And are in danger to be l
•
ft of God,
In those misleading p
•
ths which th
•
y have trod.
These things I mused; and in heart revolved
A thousand more, before I was resolved
To keep in
London,
where m
•
n draw no breath
But that which menaced the b
•
dies death.
And, seeing▪ many have condemned the fact.
As an unwar
•
antabl
•
, foolish act:
Since, i
•
may teach them to forbear to give
Their
Verdict,
till they
Evidence
receive:
Since, thus to mention it, a m
•
ane
•
may be,
To build again the like
Resolves
in me
When
•
uture peril so requireth it;
And when, perhaps, this mind, I may forget:
Yea, since the manner of it, may, perchance,
Deliver others from some ignorance,
And help their Christian Res
•
lutions out,
When they are thrall'd with carnal fear, or doubt:
Even for these causes, (and to glorify
The power of God in this my victory)
I will relate what
Reason
•
m
•
de me stay:
What
•
opes they were, which drove my fears away:
And, with what circumstances, I obtained
That knowledge, which my shaking
Faith
maintained.
When I perceived the
PESTILENCE
to rage
In every street, nor sparing sex, nor age;
How from their City-hive, like
Bees
in
May,
The fearful
Citizens
did swarm away:
How fast our
Gentry
hasted to be gone:
How often I was urged and called upon,
To bear them company: what safeties were
By absence promist; what great terrors here
My death did m
•
nace: how, by timely flight
I might behold my Country with delight:
How nothing could be gotten by
•
y stay,
But wants, and new afflictions every day:
With such like disadvantages, which brought,
A hundred other musings to my t
•
oug
•
t.
They made it seem, a while, well wor
•
h reproving,
To stay, a minute, longer from removing▪
But, then my
Conscience
also did begin
To draw such pow'rfull
Moti
•
es,
from within▪
And, to propose before my
understanding
Such Reasons, my departure countermanding,
As made me stagger, and new doubts to make,
What course it best behooved me to take.
At first, I thought by counsel from the
Wise,
To build up my
Resolves,
and to advise
By their opinions what I
•
hold pursue;
But, of the
gravest
I perceived so few
Who could advise them
•
elves; that I grew more
Divided by their counsels, then before.
I saw such foolishness, and such distractions,
Appeare among them in their words and actions;
That I perceived they had enough to do,
Their own particulars to look unto.
Then, guided by
example
would I be;
But, that I quickly found no Rule
•
or me;
For, they who in opinion do consent,
Oft differ, in
•
he active
President.
And some, who have a tongue the truth to say,
Have wanted grace to walk the safest way.
Beside, men's actions, which indiffe
•
ent are,
May foolish, wise, or bad, or good appear,
As their unknown occasions are who do them;
And, small respect is to be had unto them,
By way of
P
•
esident,
till we can find
Their outward motives, and their secret mind▪
This heeding; and still waxing more molested,
With diff
•
ring thoughts, and reasons undisgested,
I knew no better way, then to repair
For counsel unto God,
•
y humble
Prayer
;
Beseeching his direction, how to take
That course, which for his glory▪ most should make.
And he (I think) was please
•
to suggest,
That if I asked my
Conscience
what was bes
•
,
His
Word
and
Spirit
would inform her so,
That she should show me what was best to do.
Then, from the noise of other men's persuasions,
(From
self-c
•
nceit,
and from those vain occasions,
Which bring disturbances) I did retire,
God's pleasure, of my
Conscience,
to enq
•
ire.
Who, finding in my breast a strong contention
Twixt
Fai
•
h
and
Reason
; and, how their dissention
Was fi
•
st to be composed (that I might
The sooner understand the t
•
uth aright)
She called a
Court
within me; s
•
mmon'd thither
Those Powers, and all those Faculties together,
Which
Tena
•
ts
a
•
e in
chief
u
•
to the
Soul:
Their faulty inclinations did control:
And, that she might not without profit chide,
Some ill advis
•
d courses rectifi'd.
Then willed she
FAITH
and
REASON
to debate
Their
Cause
at large: and, that which they, of late,
Had urged confusedly within my breast,
She willed them, into
Method,
to digest:
That so, my
Judgment
might the better see,
To whether part I should inclined be
They both o
•
e
•
'd. And,
REASON
(who supposed
Delay bred danger) hastily composed
Those many strong persuasions, wherewithal
She did my person from the
City
call;
Before my
Conscience,
them in order laid,
And (as half angry) thus me thought she said.
What meanest thou, thus fondly, out of season,
To show thy boldness in contempt of
Reason?
Why art thou always these mad courses taking?
Thy Lines, and Actions,
Paradoxes
making?
Why thus pursu'st thou what to ruin tends,
To glad thy foes, and discontent thy friends?
By making wild adventures, to the blame
Of thy blind
Faith,
and my perpetual sh
•
me?
Isit not enough, that by thy
little caring
To humor Fools, and by thy over daring
To
•
eard proud
Vices,
thou h
•
st lately cross
•
Thy way to riches, and preferment lost?
Isit not enough, that when thou dost become
The scorn of Fool
•
,
thou wert delivered from
A m
••
ked Hate,
even in that day, and place,
Which
Malice
had assigned for thy disgr
•
ce?
And sawst the shame of that unjust I
•
tention
Alight on him who plotted that
Invention?
Isit not enough, that thou escape
•
hast
Through many wants and perils und
•
sgrac'd,
When thy advent'rous
Muse
drew down upon thee
Those Troubles which were like to have undone thee?
Suffice not these, unless thou now assay
A needless act? and fool thy life away
By tempting Heaven, in willful staying there,
Where, in thy face grim death doth always stare?
Look what thou d
•
st, and w
•
ll obse
•
ve
•
hine errors,
For, thou art round about, enclosed with terrors.
And if thou be not stupid thou mayest see
That there is cause thou shouldst affrighted be.
Dost thou not smell the vapors of the
Gr
•
ve?
Dost thou not hear thy plague-sick neighbors rave?
Dost thou not taste infection in the
Air?
Dost thou not view sad objects of despair?
Dost thou not f
•
ele thy vital pow'rs assailed?
Dost thou not find thy spirits often quail
•
d?
Or with thy
judgment
hast thou lost thy sense,
That thou dost make no greater speed from hence?
Mark there, how fast with
Corpses
they do throng▪
See yonder, how the
Shadows,
pass along.
Behold, just now, a man before thee dies:
Behind thy back, another breathless lies.
That
Bell,
now ringing, soundeth out the Knell
Of him, whom thou didst leave, last ev'ning, well.
Lo, he that for his life, lies gasping, there,
Is one of those who thy companions were
This very morning. And,
see, see,
the Man
That's talking to thee, looketh pale, and wan,
Is sick to death; and, if thou do not run
For help, will die before his tale be done.
Yet, art thou no
•
afraid? I prithee, tell
Why mightest thou not have been that man as well?
Though he this minute hath prevented thee,
Why mayest not thou, the next that follows be?
Why shouldst not thou as quick
•
y drop away,
Since, fl
•
sh and blood thou art, as fra
•
l as they?
What can thy speedy dissolution hinder,
Since thy
complexion
is as apt as tinder
To take that Flame? And, if it seize thee must,
What art thou better, then a heap of dust?
There is no
Constitution, Sex, Degree,
Or
Age
of man, from this contagion free.
Nor canst thou get an
Antidote
to fit
For all Infection, though, perhaps, thy wit
Could learn thy temper so, as not to wrong
•
Thy health, by things too weak, or over strong.
For, men oft change th
•
temper they should hold,
Are sometime hot; sometime again are cold▪
One while are sprightly, otherwhile are dull;
Are now too empty, and anon too full:
That, tis a doubtful, and a curious act,
To add a just proportion, and subtract
(In using outward means of pres
•
rvation)
According to the bo
•
ies variation.
And, many, therein failing, lose their lives,
By wrong, or misapply'd
Preservatives.
Thou shalt have, therefore, but uncertain hopes
From
Druggists,
or
Apothecary
shops.
To warrantize thy health▪ if thou on those
In staying here, thy confidence repose.
And sure, thou neither harbor'st such a thought,
That, thou of any better s
•
uffe art wrought
Then other men: nor trustest unto
Charmes,
To keep off this
Disease
from doing harms:
For, those unhallowed
Med'cines,
and i
•
pure,
Breed greater
Plagues,
then those they seem to cure.
Nor art thou, of that
Brotherhood,
which sees
The
Book
of God's particular
Decrees;
And
Gypsie
like (by heathenish
Palmistry,
Or by the lines of
Phisiognomy)
Conjectures dareth not alone to give,
Who of this
Plague
shall die, or who shall live:
But also wicke
•
lie, presumes to t
•
ll
Which man shall go to heaven, and which to hell:
Of these I know thou art not. For, as yet
I hope thou hast not so forgone thy wit:
To credit their illuding p
•
ophanations,
Which are but
fantosmes
of illuminations
Begot in these late Ages (by misch
•
nce)
Betwixt much pride, and zealous ignorance.
Thou dost not think thy merits greater are
Then other men's, that God thy l
•
f
•
should spare.
Nor canst thou hope thy safety to poss
•
sse,
For that thy follies or thy sins are less.
Since if thou hadst but one time been misled,
Thy life for that one time were so
•
fei
•
ed.
And, this
Disease,
with outward
ma
•
ks,
doth strike.
The
Righteous,
and the
Wicked,
both alike.
Then, since thou art a
Sinner,
and art sure,
That sin did first this
Pestilence
procure:
Since thou mayest also justly say with grief,
That, thou of all transgressors art the chief:
Since thy offenses some of those have been,
Which h
•
lpe to bring this great
Infection
in:
Nay; since it may be (if thou search thy heart)
That thou a principal among them art,
Who from the Ship must
Jonah
-like be thrown,
Before this
Tempest
will be over blown▪
Why doth it not thy guil
•
y soul dismay,
And make thee hasten more to fly away?
It may be thou dost vainly hope for
Fame,
By doing this. Oh! what avails the same,
When thou art raked up quite void of sense,
Among the slaughters of the
Pestilence?
What will it profit when thou sleep'st in clay,
Some▪ few should praise, and some lament thy stay?
Some heed it not? Some make a mock thereat?
Some deem thee foolish, others d
•
sperate?
Some, judge thy tarrying might for trifles be?
Some, for thy best intention slander thee?
Or with base trash thy breathless
Muse
bely
•
▪
Or, mis-report thy dying, if thou die?
For, if thou chance to perish in this
Place,
These ways, and other means to thy disgrace,
Thy Foes will find▪ and in thy fall contented,
Accomplish what, thy life might have prevented.
But say to scape alive thy
Lot
it be;
A troupe of other perils wait on thee.
Thou knowest not what extremities may fall,
Nor how thy heart may struggle therewithal.
Such
Poverty
upon this
Town
may seize,
E're God asswage the rage of this
Disease,
That means may sails thee; and before supply
Thy friends can send thee, thou mayest famished lie:
For they who now affect thee, and with whom
Thou shall
•
, perhaps, to live resolved become,
Even they may perish in this
Pest,
and leave thee
To strangers whose affections will deceive thee:
In time of health, but slenderly befriend thee:
In sickness, to a lonely Roome commend thee:
Make spoil of what is thine, and senseless be
Of helping, and of all regard of thee.
And then it will, perchance, afflict thy mind
That thou unto thyself wert so unkind,
As to neglect th
•
t wholesome Country Air▪
Whereto thy friends invited thy repair.
Thou mayest remember, when it is too late,
Those pleasures, and that happy healthy state
Thou mightest have had: A
•
d wi
•
h how much respect
Thou shouldst have lived with those that thee affect;
A comfort to thy
Parents,
who with fear,
D
•
e sorrow for thy needl
•
sse lingering here:
For, them thou leavest, an
•
some friends beside,
(To live, 'twixt
hope
and
fear,
unsatisfi'd
By this thy doing) whom thou dost abuse,
If that which may d
•
scomfort them thou choose.
And, when they shall thy willfulness condemn,
With what good Reasons will
•
thou answer them?
Thy
Dwelling
is not here; nor is thy stay
Compelled by
Affaires
that urge it may.
Thou hast nor public neither private charge;
But, mayest in any place, go walk at large.
The
woe
•
ld
conceiveth not the least suspicion,
That thou art either
Surgeon,
or
Physician,
(Whose Art may stand this place in any s
•
eed;)
Or that thy friends will thy attendance need.
For thou canst neither Broths nor Caudles make,
Nor drenches good enough for horse to take.
Thou hast no
Calling,
that may warrantize
This boldness: neither can thy wit devise
How thou will answer God, f
•
r daring thu
•
An act so needless, and so perilous.
Consider well, that there are pains in death;
Consider, that when thou ha
•
t lost thy breath,
Thy
Flesh,
the dear companion of thy
Soul,
Shall be rejected as unclean, and foul,
And, lodge within a
Grave,
contemned and vile,
Which might have lived esteemed, yet a while.
Consider, that thou hast not an estate
Of being, which is base or desperate;
But such, as few on earth possess a better,
Though each one, that hath ought, enjoys a greater.
Consider, that thou dost endanger now
The blessing of long life. Consider, how
Thou mightest have lived to a larger measure
Of riches, of preferment, or of pleasure;
And profited thy Country, whereunto
Thy
Death,
or Sickness, will no service do.
Nay, if thou now miscarry, where will be
Those honest hopes which late possessed thee?
To
•
hose thy
Studies
who an end shall add,
Which but a while ago, beginning had?
And, being left unfinisht, make the pain
And hours, upon them spent, to be in vain?
With somewhat thou endued art, whereby
Thou ma
•
st thy blessed
Maker
glorify;
Thy self advantage, and a joy become
To such as well affect thee; and 'gainst whom
(If thus thyself thou separate) thou shalt
Commit a most inexpiable fault.
Oh! the
•
efore, I beseech thee, wary be,
To think what service God requires of thee:
Think, what thou w
•
st thyself; and call to mind,
That some well-wille
•
s thou mayest leave behind,
Whose hopes thou shouldest not willfully bereave,
(Whose loves thou shouldest not unrequited leave)
By hazarding thy Life, which is a debt
To their deservings. For, thou knowest not, yet,
How that may grieve thy soul, or fill thy head
With troubled sancies, o
•
thy
dying-bed.
I cannot make d
•
scovery, by all
My faculties, and po
•
'rs rational,
What work though
•
mayest imagine should be done
T
•
at his worthy of the hazard thou dost run.
Nor can, as yet, my understanding reach
(What hope soever
Faith
may please to pre
•
ch)
To those
Felicities;
which after death
Her supernatural Doctrines promiseth.
Nor find I suc
•
assurances, a
•
may
Preserve thee unaffrighted in thy stay.
For when within my
Natural Scale
I place
Those
Arguments,
and
Promises
of
Grace,
Which
Faith
alledgeth; they so airy prove,
That they my Ballance very little move.
Yea, such transcendent things declareth she▪
As they me thinks should so distemper thee,
That doubts and terrors rather should possess
Thy
Soul,
then hopes of real
•
appinesse;
Since what in
Death,
or after
Death
shall come,
Are things, that
Nature
is estranged from.
Fly therefore, this great peril. Seek a place
Where thou mayest plead more safely of thy
Case:
And, since thy God, with
Reason,
thee doth bless,
Now, most thou needest it, be not reasonless.
All this (and what the ca
•
nall wit of man
Object, in such an undertaking can)
Did
R
•
ASON
urge, to make my
stay
appear
An act imp
•
ovident, and full of fear:
And what her seeming rightful c
•
use advances,
Was utt'red with such dreadful ci
•
cumstances,
That she did hal
•
e pe
•
swade me to confess,
My
Resolution
would be foolishness.
But, when my
R
•
ASON
had no more to speak,
My
FAITH
began: & though her st
•
ength was weak,
(Because my
•
railties had enfeebled her)
Yet, then I felt her with more vigor stir,
Then in less perils. For, she blew aside
Those fogs whe
•
ewith my heart was t
•
rrifi'd:
Made clear my
Judgment:
and (as having wa
•
gh'd
The speech f
•
regoing) thus, me thought, she said.
How wise is REASON in an
Ethnic
School,
And, in divine proceedings, what a fool?
How many likely things she mus
•
er can,
To startle and amaze a natural man,
W
•
ich, when I am advised withal, are found
But panic fears, and terrors without ground!
And yet, how often doth blind
Ignoranc
•
,
Above my reach her shallowness advance?
Or else of madness, wickedly condemn
My wisdom, and my safest paths contemn?
Yet be not thou
(my Soul)
deceived by
The foolishness of human
Sophistry.
But, since by thy
Afflictions,
thou hast got
Exp
•
rience, which the world attaineth not;
Give heed to me, and I will make thee know
Those things which carnal
Reason
cannot show.
Yea make thee by my power more certain be
Of that which mortals can nor hear nor see,
Then of the plainest objects that appear
Unto the sense of corp'rall eye or ear:
And though my promise, or my counsel seem
To vulgar Judgments, but of mean esteem,
I will so enable the
•
those seares to bide,
W
•
erewi
•
h the worldly-wise are terrifi'd;
And, teach thee such contentedness to gain,
Though in
Deaths
gloomy shades thou dost remain:
That, thou (without all doubtings) shalt perceive,
Thou shouldst not this afflicted
City
leave.
And
Flesh
and
Blood,
with wonder, shall confess
•
That
Faith
hath power to teach men fearlesnesse,
I
•
perils; which do make their hearts to ache,
Who scoff at her, and part with
Reason
take.
It cannot be denied that this
Place
Yeelds dread enough, to make the boldest face
To put a paleness on, unless the mind
Be over much to sen
••
esnesse enclinde:
Because, we nat'rally abhor to see
Such loathed objects of mortality.
'T
•
s also true, that there is no defense
To guard the body from this
Pes
•
ilence,
Within the compass of man's pow
•
r or wit:
Nor can thy merit so prevail with it,
But that (for ought thou knowest) thou mayest f
•
ll
The growing number of
Death
•
weekly-
Bill.
And what of that? whìlst I befriend thee shall,
Ca
•
such a common danger thee apal
•
?
Shall that, which heath'nish men, and women bear,
(Yea tender infants) without shows of fear,
Amate thy spirit? shall the drawing nigh
Of that, from which thou has
•
no means to
••
ye,
(And which thou walkest toward, every day,
(With seeming stou
•
nesse) fright thee now away?
Is
Death
so busy grow
•
e in
London
streets,
That h
•
with no man in th
•
Country me
•
ts?
Believe
••
thou, the number he hath slain
Hath added anything unto the pain?
Or, hast thou lately apprehended more
Deaths fearful gast lin
•
sse, then heretofore,
That in this time of trial thou shouldst find
Thy Soul to slavish Cowardice enclinde?
Death
is that
Path,
which every man must tread;
A
•
d, whe
•
thou shalt d
•
scend among the dead,
Thou go'st but thither where thy fathers be,
And whither, all that live shall follow thee.
Death
is that
Haven,
where t
•
y
Bark
shall cas
•
Her hopeful Anchor, and lie moored fast,
Exempted from those furious winds and seas▪
Which in thy heavenly voyage, thee diseas
•
.
Death
i
•
th
•
Iaile-deliv'ry
of
•
he
Soul:
Thy joyful year of
Jubiliee:
thy
Goale:
The Day that ends thy sorrows, and thy sins;
And that, wherein, best happiness begins.
A lawful act, then wherefore shouldst thou fear
To prosecute; although thy death it were?
Full oft, have I enabled thee to bide
The brunt of dreadf
•
ll storms, unterrifide▪
And, when thy dastard
Reason
(not espying
That heavenly Game, at which thy
Faith
was flying)
Di
•
heartened grew; I did thy body free
From every p
•
rill which enclosed thee:
So working, that those thin
•
s thy praise became,
Which
Malice
had projected for thy shame;
And, common
Reason,
who supposed thee mad,
Did blush to see how little wi
•
she had.
Yet, now again, how f
•
olishly she tries
To cast new fogs b
•
fore thy
Judgments
eyes?
•
hat childish
Bug-Bea
•
es
hath she mus
•
red
•
ere,
To scar t
•
y senses with a causeless f
•
are?
Of those loathed
Objects
wherefore doth she tell,
Which v
•
x the sight, the hearing, and the smell?
Since, when the utmost of it shall be said,
All is but
Death;
which can but strike thee dead.
And when that's done, thou shalt (by me revived)
Enjoy a better life then thou has
•
lived.
If those
hobgoblin
terrors of the grave,
(Wherewith mere nat'rall men affrighted have
Their troubled souls) deter thee from that path,
Whereto the will of God enjoined hath;
To thee (oh!
Soul)
how dreadful would it be
If WARRE, with all her fears enclosed thee?
Nay, if such common terrors thee amaze,
How wouldst thou quake, if in a general blaze,
The world should flame about thee? (as it may,
Perhaps, before thou see another day)
Sure, if these
Scar-crows
do det
•
rre thee so,
Thou scarce wilt welcome (as thou oughtst to do)
That
Moment
when it comes; nor so rejoice,
As they, who long to hear the
Bridegroom's
voice.
Here therefore stay, and practice to inure
Thy soul to trials; that thou mayest endure
All change
•
s, which in after times may come:
And wait with gladness, for the
Day of Doome.
Seek here, by holy dread, to purge away
Those Crimes which heap up terrors for that day.
Endure the scorching of this gentle fire▪
To purify thy heart from vain desire.
Learn here, the death of righteous men to die;
That thou mayest live with such eternally.
H
•
re, exercise thy
Faith,
and watch, and pray,
That when thy body shall be mixed with clay
The frigh
•
full
Trumpet,
whose amazing sound
Shall startle
H
•
ll,
and shake earths massy
Round.
May make thee leap with gladness from thy grave,
And no sad horrors in thy Conscience have.
What canst thou hope to purchase here below,
That thou shouldst life unwillingly for go?
Since, there is nothing which thou canst possess,
Whose sweetness is not mar'd with bitterness:
Nor anything so safe, but that it may,
To th
•
e, become a mischief, many a way?
If
honorable
thou mightest live to grow,
That honor may effect thy overthrow.
And (as it makes of others) make of thee
A thing as blockish, as brute creatures be▪
If
Rich;
those Riches may thy life betray;
Choake up thy virtues, and then fly awe
•
y.
If
Pleasure
follow thee; that pleasing vain
May bring thy soul to everlasting pain:
Yea, that which most thou longest to e
•
joy,
May all the pleasures of thy life destroy.
Seek therefore true co
•
t
•
n
•
meant where it lies,
And fear not every B
•
bies fantasies.
If
Life
thou love;
Death
is that entering in
Where life which is eternal doth begin.
There, what thou most desirest is enjoyed;
And, Death it self, by dying is destroyed.
Though length of life, a blessing be confessed,
Yet, length of days in sorrow is not best.
Although the
Saylor,
sea-room doth require,
To reach the harbor is his chief desire:
And, though 'tis well our debts may be delayed,
Yet, we are best at ease when they are paid.
If
•
itle
•
,
thou aspire unto:
Death
brings
The
Faithful,
to become immortal
Kings:
Whose glory passeth earth
•
y pomp, as far
As
Phoebus
doth outshine the
Morning-star.
Desirest thou a pleasant healthful dwelling?
By Death thou gain'st a Country so excelling;
That, plenty of all us
•
full things is there,
And all
•
hose objects that delightful are.
A golden pavement thou sh
•
lt walk upon;
And lodge in Buildings wall'd with precious stone.
If in rich Garmen
•
s to be clothed thou seek,
The
Persian
Mon
•
rks never had the like:
For,
Purity
it self thy Robe shall be;
And like the Stars, thy Crown shall s
•
ine on thee.
Hast thou enjoyed those companions here,
Whose love and fellowship delightful are?
Thou shalt, when thou from sight of those art gone,
Of that high
Order
be installed one,
Which never did false
Brother
entertain;
Whereof, even God himself is
Sovereign:
And in whose company thou shalt possess
All perfect, dear, and lasting friendlinesse.
Yea, there even those whom thou on earth hast lo
•
ed
•
n
••
se time (with such love as is approved)
Thou shalt enjoy again: and not alon
•
Their friendship; but the love of everyone
Of those blest men and women, who both were,
And are, and shall be, till our Judge appear.
Hath any mortal
beauty
pleased thee so,
That, from her presence thou
•
rt loath to go?
Thou shalt instead of those poor imperfections,
Wh
•
r
•
on thou setlest here unsure affections▪
The
Fountain of all Beauties,
come to see
(Wi
•
hin his lovely bosom lodged be)
And know (when thou on him hast fixed thine eye
•
)
That, all earths Beauties are deformities.
To these, and happiness, greater far
Then by the heart of man conceived are,
Death
maketh passage. And, how grim soe're
He may to those that stand aloo
••
appear;
Yet, if thou bide unmoved in thy place,
Till he within his arms do thee embrace;
Thou sh
•
lt perceive that who so timely dieth,
Enjoyes contentments which this life denieth.
Thy fear of painfulness in death is vain
•
;
In
Death
is ease
•
; in
Life,
alone, is pain.
Man makes it
•
readfull by his own inventions▪
By causeless doubts, and groundless apprehensions.
But, when it comes, it brings of pain, no more
Then
Sleep,
to him that restless was before.
Thy
Souls
departur
•
, from the
Flesh,
doth maze,
And thee afflicteth more then there is cause:
For, of his sting, thy
Saviou
•
,
Death despoiled:
And, fears, and dangers from the
Grave
exiled.
Thou losest not try
Body
when it dies;
Nor doth it perish, though it putrifies.
For, when the time appointed, it hath lain,
It shall be raised from the dust again,
And, in the s
•
ead of this corrupted one,
Thy Soul, a glorious Body shall put on.
But hadst thou not a
Faith
which might procure the
•
Such comforts, and such life in death assure thee:
Or, though thou shouldst, by dying, be possessed
Of nothing else, but of a senseless rest:
Me thinks thy
•
arnall
Reason
should, for that,
Perswade thee rather to be desperate,
And stay, and seek for Death, e'
•
e languish in
Perpetual sorrows, such as thine have bi
•
.
For, if to Godward,
•
oy thou foelest not,
What comfort to the world-ward
•
ast thou got,
Which may desirous make thee to delay,
Or linger out thy life another day?
'It is true that God hath given thee a share
I
•
all thos
•
Pleasures,
that good pleasures are;
And (to the Giver
•
glory be i
•
spoken)
H
•
e hath bestowed on thee as many a
•
ok
•
n
Of his abundant love, as he bestows
On any, with so sew external sh
•
wes.
For even of outward things he doth impart
As much as fits the place in which thou art;
With full as many pleasures as may serve,
Thy
Patience,
in thy suff
•
ings, to preserve:
And, when for Rest, and Plenties, thou art fitter,
I know, he will not make thy
cup
so bit
•
r.
But if thou live for outwar'd pleasures merely;
By living thou dost buy them over dearly.
For (if thy peace in God were s
•
t aside)
So many ways thou hast been crucified,
That some would think thy Fortune (if they had it)
Most bitter; though most sweet thy hopes have made it.
H
•
re, but a
Pilgrimage
thou dost possess,
I
•
wandering, and perpetual restlessness.
Like Travelers, in sunshine and in rain,
Both d
•
y and wet, and dry and wet again.
With rest, each
Morning,
well refresh
•
and merry▪
A
•
d, every
Ev'ning,
full of grief, and weary.
To
Vanity,
in bondage thou dost lie,
Still beaten with new storms of Misery;
And, in a path to which thou art a stranger,
Assaulted with variety of Danger.
His
Face,
sometime, is hid, whence comforts flow,
And, men and devils, seek thy overthrow.
Sin multiplies upon thee, every day:
Thy vital pow'rs, will more and more decay:
Wealth, honor, friends, and what thou best dost love,
Doth leave, deceive thee, or thy torment prove;
Mans very Body burdens him; and brings
Unto itself a thousand torturings▪
Thy Heart, with many
Thinkings
is perplexed:
Yea, by thine own
Affections
thou art vext:
And (though by overcoming them at last,
Thy soul hath comfort when the fight is past,)
Thou hast perpetual conflicts, which requir
•
Continuall watchfulness: for, no
Desire
Or nat'rall
Passion,
ever did molest
The heart of Man, that strives not in thy breast.
In every
Pleasure,
somewhat lurks to scar thee▪
In every
Profit,
somewhat to ensnare thee:
Whole armies of
Afflictions
swarm about thee,
Some fight within thee; some assail without thee:
And, that which thou conceivest shall relieve thee,
Becommeth oft another means to gri
•
ve thee.
Yea, thine own thoughts, thy spe
•
ches, and thine actions,
Occasion discontentments, and distraction:
And all the portion which thou dost inherit,
Yeelds naught, but perturbations of the spirit.
In
Childhood,
all thy pleasures were but toys;
In heat of
Youth,
as fruitless were thy joys:
Thy
riper years,
do naught but ripen care:
And, imperfections, thy perfections are:
If
Old
thou grow, thy griefs will aged be▪
And,
Sickness,
till thou die, will live in thee.
Thy
Life
's a
Warfare,
which must quite be done,
E're dangers vanish, or the Field be won.
It is a
Voyage
full of weariness,
Till thou thy wished harbor dost possess:
And, thou of no external Joy canst b
•
ast,
That may not e're thy dying day be lost.
But, truth to say, what thing dost thou possess,
Which others thi
•
ke to be a happiness?
The world allows thee little that is hers,
And
•
he to very small esteem prefers.
Among her
Minions:
but, in every place
Endeavors to affront thee with disgrace;
D
•
prives thee of thy labors, and bestows
On Parasites, on Foo
•
es, and on thy Foes,
Thy due: and with a spiteful enviousnesse,
Thy best approved
Studies
doth suppress.
Behold,
•
•
rothy
Masq
•
e,
an idle
Song,
The witless jesting of a scurrilous tongue,
Th
•
capring
Dancer,
and the foining
Fencer,
The bold
Buffoone,
the sly
Intelligencer
;
Those fool
•
sh raving fellows, whose delights
Are wholly fixed on their
Curs
and
Kites
▪
The Termly
Pamphlet
•
rs,
whose Dedications
Do sooth and claw the times abominations:
Even such
•
ike things as these can purchase grace,
And quickly compass Pension,
•
ift, or Place;
When, thy more honest Labors are abused,
Contemned, slighted, or at best refused.
If such a one as these forenam'd, resort
To set abroach his qualities in
Court,
He finds respect, and as an useful man,
His
Faculty,
some place afford him, can.
He soon hath entertainment. Or if not,
Yet, something may sor his avail be got.
A base
Invention,
that scarce merit may
The reputation of a
Puppet-play,
So
•
e spangled
Courtier,
or some foolish
Lord
▪
Admires, affects, and of his ow
•
e accord
Prefers it to the
Prince,
or to the
King,
As an ingenious, or much useful thing.
And (ten to one) if then the
Author
can
But humor well his
Lordship,
or his man
(That rules his Honors wisdom) it may gain him
Some such like
Lord
as that to en
•
ertaine him,
For his c
•
mpanion; y
•
a, the privy purse
May open to him: and, be fareth worse
Then many a Fool hath done, unl
•
sse e're long▪
He purchaseth to be enro
•
l'd among
The best
Deservers;
and arise to be
Superior to a better man then be.
Twixt these and thee what distances appear?
And, twixt your Fortunes what a space is there▪
When thou hadst f
•
nished a
Work divine,
(As much for others profit, as for thine)
Thou scarcely found'st a man, to make thee way
Thy
Present,
at thy
Sovereign
•
fee
•
to lay.
And when thou didst▪ No sooner laid he by
What tendered was, but some in
•
urious eye
Did quickly take thereof a partial view,
And with detracting
Censures
thee pursue.
Yea, those mere
Ignorants,
whose courtly wi
•
Can judge of nothing, but how clothes do fit;
How
Congees
should be acted; how their Boy
Obs
•
rve them should; or some such weighty
•
oy:
Those
Shreds of Complement,
patched up for things
To fill vast
Roomes
in Palaces of
Kings,
(As
Antiques
do in
Hangin
••
)
more for show▪
Then any profit, which from them c
•
n flow.
•
v'n those (scarce worth our laughing at) have pa
••
Their dooms on that which thou presented hast;
As if they understood it: and, as those,
•
y chance did censure, so the
Censure
goes.
If these, or any such like
Mountebanks,
By slavish
fawning,
or by
pickin
•
thanks;
By ho
•
eliest
services,
(or worse) by cheating;
Extorting from the poor, or by defeating
Men hone
••
lie disposed, (or, by any
Of those ill means, whereof this age hath many)
Can, out of heggery, their fortunes rear▪
To hundreds, or to thousands by the year:
They think themselves abused, if any grutch
O
•
m
•
rmur, as if they had got too much.
But, though thou from thy childhood wert employed
In painf
•
ll studies, and hadst not enjoyed
So much external profit, as would pay
The charges of thy
Troubles,
for a day:
(Nay, rather, hindrance hadst, and punishment,
For that, which gave most honest men content)
Yet (mark their dealing) when but hope there was
Of gain to thee (which never came to pass)
And though that gain were less then
Traders
can
Allow sometimes unto a
Journey-man:
Yea though it were to no man's prejudice;
(
•
ut many profiting) and did arise
By thine own labors: that small yearly sum
•
Expected for, naught, yet, but loss doth come)
Was grumbled at; as if it had been more
Then any ever gained heretofore;
And would the
Common-weal
have prejudised,
Had none, thereof, to frustrate thee, de
•
ised.
Some, therefore (whose maliciousness is yet
Vnanswer'd for) themselves against thee set;
And, by the damage of their own estate,
Have labor'd, thee and thine to ruinate.
Some others, as injuriously, as they,
Laid causeless
Nets,
to snarl thee in thy way:
And have procured, for thy best intents,
Reproofes, Contempts, and Close Imprisonments;
(As rigo
•
ous as ever were inflicted,
Of those th
•
t for
High Treason
stood convicted)
Yea, that which might an honest wealth have won thee,
•
as that, whereby they sought to have undone thee.
Foule Scandals, thy best actions have attended.
And (as if on thine Infamy depended
The Kingdoms glory)
Pamphlets
false and base,
Yea, public
Ma
•
ques,
and
Plays,
to thy disgrace,
Were set abroach; till justly they became,
To those that made, and favor'd them, a shame.
In
Rimes,
and
Libels,
they have done thee wrongs;
Thou hast been mentioned in their drunken
Songs,
Who nothing worse unto thy charge could lay,
But, that, thou didst not seem so bad as they.
Mere
Strangers,
who are quite unknown of thee,
(Although they see not what thy manners be)
Take pleasure to traduce thee, and to draw
Those things in question, which they never saw.
Nay, at their public meetings, few forbear
To speak that s
•
andall, which they think, or hear▪
Even since this
Plague
began, and whi
•
st thy hand
Recording was that
Judgment
on this
Land
;
Thou art informed, that, Westward from this place
(Some scores of miles) a general rumor w
••
Both of thy biding here, and of thy death.
And, they who said, thou hadst expired thy breath,
(Supposing, as it seems) it could not be
That God from this Disease would shelter thee)
Reported also, that, of Grace forsaken,
And, by the sin of Drunkenness o'retaken,
Thou brok
•
st thy neck. It may be those men thought,
That when the
Plague
•
hy life to end bad brought,
They sh
•
uld have added some
•
what, to have slain
The life of
good Report,
which might remain.
Nor was that aim quite void. For, (though of all
Grosse sins, the stain of t
•
at, least b
•
ur thee shall)
Some straight believed what malice did surmise;
Condemn'd thy Virtues, for Hypocrisies.
Made guilty all thy
Lines
of evil
ends
▪
Vs'd thee, as
Job
was used by his friends▪
Did on thy
Life
un
•
hristian Censures pass▪
Affirm'd, thy
Death
had showed what it was;
And, many a one that heard it, shall not know
Until his dying day, it was not so.
But, then they shall perceive, that most of that
Is false, which men of others use to prate.
But, wonder it is none, that thou among
Some
Strangers,
in thy
Fame
hast suffered wrong:
For,
•
o, thy
Neighbors
(though they privy be
To no such act as may difparage thee,
But unto many rather, which in show,
Appeared from a Christian mind to flow)
Even they, in private whisp'rings, many times
Have taxed thee as guilty of those crimes
Thou never perpetratedst, but dost more
Abhor them, then do
Mizers
to be poor.
And from th
•
se blots the more thy life is free,
The more is theirs defilde, by slaundring th
•
e.
In wicked
Places
(where yet n
•
ver came
Thy foo
•
) some ac
•
ed follies in thy name:
That others present, knowing not thy face,
Might spread abroad of thee, to thy disgrace,
What others did. And, such a mischief, none
But perfect
Malice,
could have thought upon.
Thy very
Prayers,
and thy
Charities
Have
••
cked been, and judged hypocrisies.
When thou wert be
••
employed, thou wert s
•
re
The b
•
sest imputations to endure.
When thy intentions ha
•
e been most sincere,
Men's misconstructions always ha
•
shest were;
And, when thy piou
••
action thou hadst wrought,
Then▪ they the greatest mischief on thee brought.
The best, and most approved of those
Laies,
By thee composed for thy
Makers
praise;
Have lately greatly multipli'd thy F
•
es,
And, not procured alone the spite of those
Whom brutish
Ignorance
bes
•
ts among
The misconceiving and ill
•
terate
throng:
But▪ they who on the seats of
Judgment
sat,
Thee, and those Labors have inveighed at.
The
Learned,
who should wiser men have been,
Did censure that which they had never seen.
Even they, w
•
o make fair shows of sancti
•
y,
(God grant, it be not with hypocrisi
•
)
With spitefulness, that scarce can matched be,
Have shamefully tr
•
duced
that,
and
thee.
Nay, of the
Clergy,
some (and of the chief)
Have with unseemly f
•
ry, post belief,
So undervalu'd, and so vilifi'd
Those Labors (which the trial will abide,
When their proud spleen is wasted) that, unless
God had, in mercy, curbed their furiousness,
(And by his might abated, in some measure,
That power of acting their imp
•
ious pleasure)
Their
place,
and that opinion they had gained,
Of knowledge, and sincerity unfeigned,
Had long ere this, no doubt, made so contemned
Those Lines, and thee; that thou hadst been condemned
Without a trial. And so true a feeling
Hadst gained ere now, of base and partial dealing,
That, Disconten
•
•
ight then have urged thy
stay,
In hope this
Plague,
would th
•
t, have took away:
But, thou by others, hast received the
••
ings
Of
Malice
▪ other ways, in other things.
Those men, whose over-gross and open crime
•
,
Are justly taxed in thi
••
•
onest
•
imes,
Have by the general notice of thy name,
Sought how to bring thee to a general shame,
By raising causeless rumors to be blown
Through every quarter where thy lines are known.
For, there's no place without an envious
•
are,
And slan
•
rous tongues be ready everywhere,
To cast, with willingness, disgrace on those,
Of whom, some good report, beforehand, goes.
And since thou canst not answer every man,
As he that's known in some few Townships, can;
The falsest Rumors Men divulge of thee,
Do soon become a
common Fame
to be.
Moreover (that less cause there may appear,
Why thou shouldst life desire, or dying fear)
The most affected thing this world contains,
Hath tor
•
ur'd thee with most heart-breaking pains.
For, they whom thou hast loved: they to whom
Thou didst obliged many ways become:
Yea
•
hey who knew thy faithfulness; even they,
Have made their outward kindnesses the way
To make thee most ungrateful seem to be,
Yea, they have heaped more disgrace on thee,
More griefs, and disadvantages, then all
Thy Foes together, bring upon thee shall.
And long pursued have, to thy vexation
Their courses with harsh tricks of ag
•
ravation;
Yet still pretending Love: which makes the curse,
Of this Affliction twenty times the worse.
I will
•
ot say that thou affl
•
cted art
In this (by them) without thy own desert:
For who perceives in all how he offends?
Or thinks, that God correction causeless sends?
Nor will I say this injury proceeds,
Fromany Malice. For, perhaps, it breeds
From their distempered love. And God to show
Some needfullsecret (which thou best mayest know
By this experiment) a while doth please,
To make thy late
Contentments
thy
Disease.
Thy first
Acquaintan
•
e,
who did many a year
Enjoy thy fellowship (and glad appear
To seem thy friends) have wearied out their love,
By length of time; and strangers now do prove.
Thou also seest, thy new acquaintance be
Worne out as fast as gotten. For, to thee
Most come, for nothing but to satisfy
Their idle fruitless curiosity:
And, having seen, and found thee but a man,
Their friendship ended, just as it began.
Nay, they who all thy course of life have seen,
And (in appearanc
•
) have persuaded been,
So well of thy uprightness, as if no
•
ght
Could move in them, of thee, one
•
vill thought:
These, by a little absence, or the sound
Of some untrue Relation (wanting ground)
Do all their good opinion some
•
ime change;
Suspect thy mann
•
rs, and themselves
•
strange,
So unexpecte
•
lie▪ and without cause,
That what to judge of them it makes thee pause▪
For they that virtuous are, but in the show,
Do soon suspect, that all men else, are so.
Th
•
se things are very bitter unto such
Whose hearts are sensible to every touch
Of kindness, and unkindness; and they make
Life tedious, where they deep impr
•
ssion take.
But, many other griefs thy Soul do grind;
And thou by them, art pained in a kind
So diff
•
ring from the common sense of others,
(Although thy patience much distemper smothers)
That
Reason
might me thinks contented be,
Thou shouldst pursue thy
Death
to set thee free.
I spe
•
ke not this, as if thou didst repin
•
At these, or any other lots of thine:
Nor to discourage thee, be
•
ause the
World
So little of her Grace on thee hath hurled.
For, I would have thee scorn her love; and know
That whe
•
her sh
•
will favor th
•
e or no,
I will
•
, in thy due season, make thee rise
To honor, by that way which me
•
despise:
Even to those honors, which are greater then
The greatest that conferred are, by men.
And, this I mention, in reproach of them
Whose Pride, thy humble Mufings, doth contemn
•
:
And
•
o remember thee, how vain it were,
To seek for life, where such harsh dealings are.
And, as I would not have thee wish to live
•
or love of anything, this world can give:
So, I am loath her troubles should have power
To make thee seek to shorten life an hour.
But rather in contempt of all her spite,
To lengthen it, until pale Envy quite
Consume her self; and thou at last be sent
From hence, victorious, crowned with content.
I therefore, here, persuade thee not to stay▪
That vainly thou mightest fool thy life away:
Or, that some poor applauses may be got;
Or, for such trifling ends as profit not;
And, whereof,
Reason
her di
•
like infers:
For, my opinion jumps in that, with hers.
I do not counsel thee to cast aside
That care▪ which teacheth wisely to provide
For wholesome
Antidotes:
Or to observe
Such courses, a
•
are likely to preserve
Thy body sound: nor is it my intent,
Thou shouldst employ, by way of complemen
•
,
Thy time in visiting infected friends;
When to their comfortings it little tends.
Nor am I pleased in him that so presumes,
Or such a frantic foolishness assumes,
As desperately to thrust himself among
The noisome brea
•
hings of a sickly thro
•
g,
When such a danger nothing may avail:
And, where the means of lif
•
will surely fail.
Nor would I now betray thee to thy sin;
Or work thy losses, that thy foes may win;
Or make thee tempt thy God; or grieve thy friends▪
Or bar thy Labors of their wished ends:
Nor can
••
t thou think thy Rea
•
on well hath said,
To cast such
stumbling-blocks,
as she hath laid:
For, just and comely things, I do advise;
And, seek not
Mischiefes,
but their
Remedies.
A carnal
Wisdom
says she seeth not
What knowledge and assurance may be got
Of those eternal things, that objects are
Of
Chr
•
stian
hope. But, wherefore shouldst thou fear
What
•
lesh
and
Blood
blasphemously hath said?
Since, into thee already are convaid
••
th
Notions,
and the real sense of that
Which they, who would not see, do stumble at?
Mere human
Reason
cannot
•
each to know
Of many thousand Creatures here below,
The s
•
cret natures: Do not wonder thou,
That few celestial things perceive she can:
But call to mind, that to be fl
•
shly wise,
Is to be foolish in Truths
Mysteries.
Give God the praise, who hath on thee bes
•
own
A better apprehension then thine
〈◊〉
.
Remember still, to cherish this belief;
Let
Prayer
daily fet thy
Faith
relief:
And be assured that I advise thee best,
What e're thy carnal
Reason
shall suggest.
If thou suppose that thou hast ought begun,
Which may thy
Coun
•
ry
profit, being done,
Or honor God: proceed thou in his name,
With cheerfulness, and finish up the same.
For God will either give thee life to do it,
(If cause the
•
e be) or call another to it
Of better gifts▪ And, if thou grudge at this,
Thou seekest thine own honor, more then his:
And, though a pious purpose thou pretend,
Thy holy show
•
s have some unholy end.
Say, thou among the m
•
ltitude must fall;
Say, they that hate thee, thereof triumph
•
hall;
Or others (out of levity) contemn
Thy course; or thee unj
•
stly should condemn,
As
Reason
pleads? what prejudice to thee
Woe
•
ld this be more, then s
•
ch men's pra
•
ses be?
What harm is this to thee wh
•
n
•
hou art gone?
And hast no se
•
se of any wrong that's done?
What needest thou care, if all the woe
•
ld suppose
To hell thou sinkest; if thy
spi
•
it it
goes
The way to heaven? And in that narrow path
A
•
lessed being, unperceived hath?
Pursue brave
Actions,
as a Christian ought,
And, care not thou what shall of them be thought:
(Except to rouse up other men it be,
By making them perceive what roused thee)
When thou dost walk uprightly, walk thou on,
And scorn to look aside, who looks thereon:
For▪ he's a fool (if not an hypocrite)
That in well-doing feeleth no delight,
Until some witness of his deeds he know,
Or feel some praises his proud sai
•
es to blow,
Nay, he that cannot in a virtuous deed,
(Wherein, his
Conscience,
warrants to proceed)
Persist without returning, though he should,
Of all the world together, be control'd;
Or, if he thought it not a favor too
That God would call him such a work to do;
(Yea though that for his pains, he should become
Abhor'd of all men▪ t
•
ll the
Day of Doome)
Even such a Man is far below that height,
To which by perfect
Virtue
climb he might;
And lose he doth, by fears that are in vain,
The bravest honor that his
Faith
can gain.
Thy
Reason
says, that thou a sinner art;
And, thereupon doth urge thee to depart.
But wherefore should the guilt of sin
•
ffright
F
••
m staying, rather then from taking flight?
For, if thou shalt remove away from hence,
Thy guilt retaining, by impenitence,
God hath not so his
Plagues
confined hither,
But that they may pursue thee any whither.
And whereas here, the danger, and the fear,
Encompassing this place, might so deter,
So mollify, and awe thy heart within thee;
So move, and to amend thy life, so win thee,
That God shall cleanse thy soul of every stain;
And reconcile thee to himself again:
Perhaps, the wicked vain
securit
•
,
That will attend thee whither thou shalt fly,
May m
•
ke the measure of thy sins compleater,
Thy comforts fewer; t
•
y afflictions greater;
When least thou fearest, most of all disease thee;
And keep off this, that some worse thing may seize thee:
And, though thy
Reason
urge thee to beeleve,
Thy friends may wronged be, or too much gri
•
ve,
By this adventure: I, thy
Faith,
assure thee,
That if my
Motives
may to stay procure thee,
(For such good purposes as I propose)
Thy God shall pay thy friends what ere they lose;
Make some (by fearing what thy dangers are)
Of their own ways to take the greater care:
K
•
epe others (by preserving of them sad)
More watchful, that might else less heed have had▪
And, sti
•
re up thee for them, and them for thee,
So zealous in continual vows to be,
As w
•
ll (perchance) worse perils drive away,
Then those, which are so feared, in thy stay.
Oh! God, how many souls, by fleeing hence
Scape this, and catch a deadlier
Pestilence!
How many hearts whom
Fear
doth somewhat strike
With sorrows, which begins
Repentance
-like,
(And might by staying here, accomplish that,
Which every true
Believer
aimeth at)
Will fall from those beginnings, by their flight,
And lose the feeling of God's Judgment
•
, quite?
How many! by wr
•
ng seeking to prevent,
Their heavenly Fathers loving chastisement,
Incor
•
igible in their lives will grow?
And bring themselves to utter overthrow?
And oh! what multitudes, by staying here,
Shall change their
dread,
into a filial
fear?
Their
fear
to
love,
and love, and laud thee too,
For sending that, which they abhorred so!
Like them, who in the
Deeps
employed be,
Here, thou the wondrous works of God shalt see.
That thou mayest tell
•
he world what he hath done;
And sing the praise of that
Almighty-One
To this, and future a
•
es. And▪ for what
Did he thy Soul and Body first create?
For what redeem thee? For what end infuse
That
Fa
•
ulty,
which thou dost call thy
Muse?
For what, but for his honor, to declare
Thos
•
Judgments
and his
Mercies
which will h
•
re
Be shown unto thee? and to sing the Story
Of wh
•
t thine eye beholdeth to his glory?
For, if not here, then where? Or if not now,
Then, at what other time expectest thou
So fair an oprortunity, to show
With how much readiness thou couldst be
•
tow
Thy life, and all thy faculties, on him
(And, for his servic
•
) who bestowed them?
What nobl
•
r Subject can the woe
•
ld afford,
For thee, or for the
Muses
to record,
Then will those
Judgments,
and those
Mercies
be▪
Which God will in this place disclose to thee?
If
Reason
seek some purpose in thy stay,
Me thinks, this purpose please thy
Reason
may:
For, though those men who love their own vain praise,
Have little care of their
Creators
ways,
And find small pleasingnesse in those Relations,
Which are composed of such like
Observations;
Yet, all the glorioust acts of greatest Kings,
A
•
e trivial, worthless, base, and foolish things▪
Respecting these. And, though some nicer wits
Scarce think that such a Subject well befits
Their artfull
Muses.
Yet, twixt this and that
Whereon they love to plod and meditate,
There's much more diff'rence, then between their
Laie
•
And those which they do most of all dispraise:
And they who live (the time) I hope shall see,
These
Poems,
much, more prized then they be:
Yea, though it may appear to common
Reason,
An act impertinent, and out of season,
For such an end as this to make thy stay:
Let not her carnal
Sophismes
thee dismay.
For sin
•
e thou seest a vain
Historian
dares
His person to adventure in the wars,
That he (for fame, or hire) may w
•
i
•
e a story
Of wha
•
is done to his
Commanders
glory:
This action, wherefore shouldst thou startle from,
As if thy Judgment it would mis-become?
If just it be, our safeties to contemn,
In such a case (if that be good in him)
How much more just, is thy adventure, then
Who sin
••
t the praise of God, and not o
•
men?
How mu
•
h more safely walkest thou, then they?
How much more glory, and how much more pay,
Can thy great
Captain
give thee? And how small
Should be thy fear? If thou shouldest fear at all.
Nor to thy God, or to thyself alone,
Will acceptable services be done
By sta
•
ing here: but, peradventure some
That living are, and some, in time to come,
May reap advantage by it, and confess,
That thou wert borne for them; and didst possess
And use thy life, not for thyself alone,
But
•
hat to others profit might be done.
The gen'rall notice which men take of thee,
Will make thy actions more observed be
Then those of twenty others, who do seem
In their small circuits, men of great esteem:
And, when hereafter it is known abroad,
To what good purposes thou madest abode
In this afflicted City: on what ground,
Thy blamed resolution thou dost found:
How sensible thou wert of every sear,
And of each peril thou adventredst here:
How many friends thou
•
adst to fly
•
nto:
How much elsewhere thou migh
•
st have found to do;
What Censures thou shouldst hazard, in t
•
y stay:
W
•
at pleasures wooed th
•
e to come awe
•
y:
How, thy continuing here was not by chance
By discontent, or humorous ignorance:
How, no compulsion, no persuading Friend,
No office, hope o
•
gain, or such like end
Nec
•
ssitated thee. Yea, when by such,
Who are to fear e
•
slaved
•
vermuch,
All this is heeded well; And when men shall
Consider it, comparing therewithal,
What causes moved thee; what meditation
Confirm'd thy stay; what kind of conversation
Thou daily practisedst; and what good use
They may from th
•
experiments
produce;
It will perchance occasion some to learn
Those things, which yet they do not well discern:
Help, in good Resolutions, some to arm:
Some weak ones in temptations much confirm:
To some become a means to make them see
That men despised, may enabled be,
By
Faith,
to keep their place undaunted there,
Where men of better seeming gifts do f
•
are.
And peradventure thou mayest compass that
Which likeher men in vain have aimed at▪
For, though it may be said this
place
hath store
By
Calling
and by
Gifts,
adapted more
For such a task; and that there may be some,
That have no warrant for departing from
Th
•
se noisome streets, who well enough may take
This pain
•
s; and thereof thee excused make.
Yet, shall not that
•
xcuse thee. For, all they
Have
Callings,
which employ them wholly may▪
Yea, they whose wits are
•
bler, think not on
That work, perchance▪ as needful to be done.
Or if they do, perhaps, they may expire
Before they have performed it; or tire.
And though they should make perfect their designs:
Yet their
obs
•
urity,
may bar their Lines
From taking that effect, which if thou write,
Thy being far more known, accomplish might.
For,
Fame
prevails with many (nowadays)
And, if
uncout
•
'd, unkist
(as
Chaucer
says.)
Or grant that many had the same attempted,
(And men of note) yet wert thou not exempted.
For, best it is, when such like things as these
Confirmed are by many witnesses.
Beside, if those assurances which thou
Shalt publish (and thy
•
aith
shall well allow)
Affirmed were by none but such as they
Who might not from this place depart awe
•
y
Without much loss, or blame: mere natural men
Might have contemned all those counsels, then,
And all those just reproofs, that may, by thee,
Or any other man objected be,
Against their flavish
Feares:
and may reply,
That no man staid, but he that could not fly:
Or that none durst become a
voluntary,
In such a Fire, for conscience sake▪ to tarie:
And, that no mortal man had power obtained
To bide such brunts, till outwardly constrained.
Whereas thy free abiding here, will move
Much better thoughts: thy constancy approve;
Procure the more belief to thy Relations;
The more effectual make thy good persuasions:
And stop th
•
ir mo
•
thes, who might some other w
•
y
Thy pain
•
have wronged, had ought proc
•
r'd thy stay.
Oh! f
•
r, far be it, that
Lust, Ava
•
ce,
The strong d
•••
empers of some hat
•
f
•
ll
Vice,
A stupid
Mel
•
ncholy
or the tumors
Of some wild
Passion,
or fantasti
•
ke
Humor
•
,
Should fixe more stoutness in the heart of man,
Then temperate, an
•
pious knowledge can.
Far be it, that old
women,
for their pay,
Or
Sextons
for as little b
•
re, as they,
We in the w
•
lks of
Death
should walking see
Without all f
•
are; yet, they deterred be,
Who boast of knowl
•
dge; and have sung, and said,
That though in
Deaths black shadows
they w
•
re lai
•
▪
They would without dism
•
y continue th
•
re;
Because God's
Rod,
and
Staff,
their keepers are.
Oh! let not this be so: And be it far
From proving true; that they who studious are
Of
Wisdom,
and of
Piety,
should shrink,
Where he, whose
head piece
is but armed with drink▪
Sits fearless: Or, that
Use,
or
Custom
shall
Embolden more, then
Christian Faith,
and all
The
Moral Ve
•
tues:
Or, that thou shouldst yield
To carn
•
ll
Reason,
and forgo the
Field.
Moe
Arguments
I could, as yet, express,
To prove thy staying hath much usefulness:
As that it were unkindness to forsake
Those persons here, who comfort in thee take.
For, some profess already, that th
•
y bide,
By thy example, greatly fortifi'd,
(In their compelled stay) by seeing thee
So willingly, the
•
r griefs companion be.
Y
•
a, many a one, observing thee to stay,
Confesseth, he doth shame to fly away.
Thereby, those Resolutions they have got,
Which very lately they embraced not;
And might, perhaps, if now thou shouldst depar
•
▪
Become afraid, because thou fearful art.
Me thinks, it is unmanlinesse to fly
From those, in woe, whom in prosperity
Thou lovedst: yea, tis baseness, not to share
In
•
v'ry sorrow which thy f
•
iends d
•
e bear,
As well as in their pleasures, if they be
Such friends, as some of thine do seem to thee.
Here, thou hast long continued. On the bread
Of Dainties, in this
City
thou hast fed.
Here, thou hast laughed and sung; and here thou hast
Thy youthful years, in many f
•
llies past;
Abus'd thy
Christian-liberty,
and trod
That
Maze,
which brings forgetfulness of God.
Here, thy
example,
some corrupted hath;
Here, thou hast moved thy
Creators
wrath:
Here, thou hast sinned; and thy sins they were,
Which helped to bring this
Plague
now raging here.
Here, therefore, do thou
fast:
here, do thou mourn,
And, into sighs, and tears, thy laughter turn.
H
•
re, yield
•
hy self to prison, till thou see
At this
Assize,
how God will deal by thee:
Even here, the time redeem thou: here, restore
B
•
good examples, th
•
se whom heretofore
Thou hast offended: here, t
•
y self apply
God's just incensed wrath to pacify.
Here, join in true
Repen
•
ance,
to remove
•
hat
Storm
which now descendeth from above.
And the
•
, or live or die▪ this
Place,
to thee
A place of Refuge, and of
•
oy shall be.
Nor
Sin,
nor
Death,
nor
H
•
ll,
no
•
anything
Sh
•
ll d
•
scontentment, fea
•
e, or peril bring
Which to thy Soul or Body, shall become
A disadvantage; but help save thee from
Destruction: Ioyes, as yet, unfelt, procure:
In all temptation, mak
•
thy mind secure:
Discover plainly how thy
Reason
failed;
And, make thee bless the time, thy
Faith
prevailed.
But, thou dost w
•
nt a
Calling
(REASON cries)
Thy staying in this place to warrantize.
And, that until thereof though
•
dost obtain
The full assurance, all my speech is vain.
Indeed, the glorioust work we can begin,
Unless God call us to it, is a sin.
And there
•
fore, every man should seek to k
•
ow
What, God, and what vain
•
ancy
calls him to.
For,
Pride
▪ and over-weening
Arrogance,
The
Devil,
or a zealous
Ignorance,
Suggests false
warrants;
and allureth men
To dangerous adventures, now and then:
Yea, maketh some, from God
•
commands to fall,
And take employments at the Devils
call.
To judge thy
Calling,
then, learn this of me,
That, some
Vocations
ordinar
•
be,
Some extraordinary If thou take
An ordinary
Calling,
thou must make
The common entrance, which that power doth give
Within whose
Jurisdiction
thou dost l
•
ve:
Else (whatsoever Cause thou dost pretend)
It is
Intrusion
: and, thou shalt offend.
If thou conceivest thou some
Calling
hast
In Extraordinary; see it past
By God's allowance, from God's holy Writ▪
Before such time as thou accept of it.
And, then, beware that nothing force thee back,
Or, make thee in thine
Office
to be slack.
In brief; a
Calling extraordinary,
To justify it self, these
Markes
must carry;
And, if it fail of
•
hem, but in the least,
Thy Conscience is deluded in the r
•
st.
God's
glory
will be aimed at, in chief:
It will be grounded on a true
belief
:
It doth not God's revealed
will
oppose:
No step that errs f
•
om
Charity
it goes:
It seeketh not, what cannot be enjoyed:
It makes no
ordinary calling
void:
Some
cause
not frequent must invite thereto:
And (
to accomplish what thou hast to do
)
Some Gift, that's proper for it, must be given,
And then, thou hast thy
Calling
sealed from h
•
aven.
Approve thyself by these, and thou shalt see,
That, God, no doub
•
, hath truly called thee.
To this adventure. For, thy h
•
art intends
His praise in this, above all other ends.
Thou dost bele
•
ve, that (whether live or die)
Thy st
•
y shall somewhat add, to glorify
Thy blessed
Maker;
and that something shall
To thine, and others profits, here, befall.
Thy Judgment, to thy Conscience nou
•
ht discloseth,
Wherein it God's revealed
Will
opposeth:
It well agrees with
Charity,
and tries
To compass no
impossibilities.
Nor binders it, nor calls it th
•
e from ought
Which is more necessary to be wrought.
A
Cause
not ordinary now requires
Thy presence here; and, God himself inspires
Thy B
•
est with
Resolutions
that agree
To such an a
•
tion.
Gi
•
ts,
which none but he
Can give, he gives thee; such, as are by Nature,
Not found in any sub
•
oelestiall Creature,
But, me
•
rly of his Grace
•
and, such, as none
Can counterfeit, by all that may be done.
And, whence are all th
•
se Musiags here expressed?
Wh
•
nce come these combatings within thy breast
Twixt M
•
and
Reason?
who is it that makes
Thy heart so fearless, now such horror shakes
The souls of others? what embolden can
The frightful spirit of a natural man,
In such apparent dangers to abide?
And yet, his
Reason
nothing from him hide,
That seemeth to be dreadful; neither leave him
Such Aymes, or s
•
ch like Passions to deceive him,
As harden others? Who, but he, that giveth
Each p
•
rfit
Gift,
these Gifts to thee deriveth?
And sure he naught bestows, but therewithal
He sends occasions that employ is shall.
Few
Officers
shall w
•
nt a doubtfulness
That they their places doubtfully possess,
If this be doubtful; whether God (or no)
Hath called thee to what I bid thee do.
For, outward
Callings,
most men do, or may
Intrude upon, by some sinister way:
By
Simony,
by
Bribe
•
y,
by
Spoiles,
By open
Violence,
or secret
Wiles.
And therefore (though the
Se
•
les
of
Kings
they gain
To strengthen what unduly they obtain)
Some doubting of their
Callings
may be had
To God ward, though such doubts be rarely made.
But, for thy
Calling
thou Commission hast
So firm; and it so many
Seals
hath past,
That nothing should induce thee to suspect
Thy
Wa
•
rant,
or distrust a good effect.
God, from thy
Cradle,
seems to have ordained thee
To such a purpose: for, he yearly trained thee
Through sev'rall cares, and perils, so inure
Thy heart, to what he meant thou shouldst endure:
Else why shouldst thou (whose actions honest were
To Man ward, though to God ward foul they are)
Be more for that afflicted, which doth seem
(To some) a work deserving good esteem,
Then are a multitude in these our times,
Convicted of the most notorious crimes?
Why, at thy very birth, did he infuse
Thy Soul with na
•
urall helps to form thy
Muse,
Which is a Faculty not lent to many,
Nor by mere
Art
attained to, of any?
To thee, why gave he
Knowledge,
such a way
As others l
•
se it by? And why I pray
Did he bestow upon thee so much Fame
For those few childish lines that thou didst frame
In thy minority▪ Why did he then
(When scarce a man) enroule thy
Name
with men?
And make thee to be praised and prized before
Those men whose
Yeares,
and
Sciences
are more?
What was there in thy
Poems?
what in thee,
That seemed not worthy of contempt to be,
Much more then of applause? And what hast thou
From scorn to save thee, but God's mercy now?
Believe it, he divulgeth not thy
Name
For thine own honor: But to make the same
A means of spreading his. From p
•
rills past
He saved not thee, for any worth thou hast,
But, to declare his Mercies At this season,
He moves this
plea
betwixt thy
Faith
and
Reason,
Not to be passed over, as in vain;
But, in thy Brest true courage to maintain.
Thy
Muse
he gave thee, not to exercise
Her power in b
•
se and fruitless vanities,
Or to be silenced: but, to magnify
The wondrous workings of his
Majesty.
And, as the seals of
Kings
authorize those
To whom they do their
Offices
dispose,
So, these are
Signs
which force enough do carry
To seal this
calling extraordinary:
And, they who sleight the same will in some measure
Incur the King of heavens high displeasure.
Mor
•
might be said (hereof to make a proof)
But, more to say, were more then is enough.
Of this, no further, therefore, I will dispute;
But, bid thee stay, thy
Place
to execute.
When
FAITH
had made this
pleading
in my breast
My
REASON
was persuaded to protest
Her full assent, to what she first gainsaid,
Which, that it might be constantly obeyed,
My
Conscience,
in her
Court,
did soon decree;
And, all my thoughts were then at peace in me.
From that time forward, neither Friend, nor Foe,
Could startle me in what I meant to do.
No vain desires within me did control
•
My purpose: no distrusts did fright my soul:
Nor seemed it, so dangerous, to stay,
As (knowing what I
•
new) to fly away.
For, though these
Arguments,
and such as these,
Can never fit in all men's
Consciences,
The just
Meridian
(seeing, variations,
In manifold respects, make alterations)
Yet, mine they suited with; and may, and shall
Be some way useful, to my
Readers
all.
I wisht it so: For, I was then inspired
With love to all▪ and all men's weal desired.
Me thought, I pitied those, who should not see
What God within this place did show to me:
And should have grieved to have been constrained,
Within the City, not to have remained.
For by myself, when I to censure b
•
ought
My present Lot; it pleased me: and, me thought,
That, Go
•
vouch
•
afed to employ me so,
And furnish me for what I was to do,
With such a healthful body, and a mind
To act his will so readily inclined;
It seemed more comfort, and more honor far,
Then if a Mona
•
kes
Favorite
I were,
Or might for temporal respects become
The noblest person of all
Christendom.
A
•
•
, if I shall not still this mind embrace,
A dog half hanged is in better case.
For, when that favor I do value less,
I shall grow senseless of all happiness.
Oh! God, how great a blessing, then, didst thou
Confer upon me? And what G
•
ace allow!
Oh! what am I, and what my parentage?
That Thou of all the Children of this Age
Didst choose ou
•
m
•
, so highly to prefer,
As of thy
Acts,
to be a
Register?
And g
•
ve me Fortitude and Resolution,
To stay, and view thy
Judgments
execution?
That, I should live to see thy
Angel
here,
Even in his grea
•
est dreadfulness appear?
That, when a thousand fell before my face,
And at my right hand (in as little space)
Ten thousand more, I should be still prot
•
cted
From that contagious blast, whi
•
h them infected!
That, when of Arrows thou d
•
dst shoot a flight
So thick by day, and such a storm by night
Of pois
•
ned shaft▪ I, then, should walk among
The sharpest of them; and yet pass along
Vnharm'd▪ And that I should behold the path
Which thou dost pace in thy hot burning wrath,
(Yet not consume to Ashes) what a wonder
To me it seems, when thereupon I ponder!
How great a grace it was, whose tongue can say,
That I who am but breathing dust and clay,
Should waking (and in all my senses, well)
Walk down the Grave almost as low as hell,
Yet come again unscar
•
ed? and have leave
To live and tell what there I did perceive!
Yea come (as from the dead) again to show
The faithless woe
•
ld what terrors a
•
e below!
(And justify, that though a man be sent
Even from the Grave to move men to repent,
No Faith would in those hearers be begot,
Who
Moses
and the
Prophets
credit not.)
How great a
Mercy
was it, that when I
Was thought in dangers, and in griefs to lie,
That, for my
Shepherd
I had thee my God?
And in the p
•
th of best contentments trod?
That I, on sweetest
Pleasures
banqueted,
When other men did eat
Afflictions bread?
That, I had perfect joys even in my tears?
Assured
•
afety in my greatest foares?
A thousand
•
omforts, whereof they who lived
In better-seeming states, w
••
e quite deprived?
And much content, which they will never know,
Who keep those paths in which the Vulgar go.
What ma
••
hlesse benefits were these! & whence
Canst thou, that gavest them, have thy recompense,
But from thyself
•
▪ Or who but
•
hou alone
Can give me heart enough to think
•
pon
These Gr
•
ces as I o
••
ht? Oh! therefore, deign
To make my breast suffici
•
nt to contain
That measure of due thankfulness, which may
Accepted be, for what I cannot pay.
And, suffer not my frailties, or my sin
To hide again, what thou dost now begin
To make me see; but grant to me thy grace,
For ever, to behold thy cheerf
•
ll face.
Nor
Oile,
nor
Corn,
nor
Wine
can glad me so:
Nor shall their brutish lovers ever know
What joys within my breast begotten be,
When thy pleased countenance doth shine on me.
Let those who of great Kings affections boast,
(And for
•
heir
•
avours are engaged most)
Those, who possess (their starveling souls to please)
Sweet Gardens, Groves, and cu
•
ious Palaces,
Rich Jewels, large Revenues, princely Stiles,
The flatteries of Lord's, and female smiles,
The pleasures of the Chamber, and the Fields,
All those which dainty fare, or Musique yields,
The City or the Court; and all tha
•
stuff
Of which their hearts can never have enough:
Let these, and those who their desires approve,
With such enticing
Objects
fall in love:
Let them pursue their fancies, till they find
What so
•
rouse and disgraces come behind:
And let the
•
•
urfet on them, till they see
By tried experience, w
•
at their fruit will be.
I never shall
•
nvy their happiness;
Nor cove
•
their high for
•
unes to possess,
If thou p
•
eserve m
•
still in thy protection,
And cheer my spi
•
it by thin
•
eyes reflection▪
For then I shall not fear the scorns of such▪
My
•
ares,
〈◊〉
shall never grieve me much:
I shall not
〈◊〉
to
•
rouch and sue to them,
Who thee, and me, and ve
•
tue shall contem
•
e▪
I shall nor shrink nor startle, when I hear
Those evil tidings, which men daily fear.
Not leave my standing, though that in the room
Of this great
Pestilence,
a
War
should come.
Or (which were woe
•
se) anot
•
er
Fiery-trial,
To
•
orce us, of thy
Truth
to mak
•
denial.
And, in these fearful times, no temporal bliss
Would seem a greater privilege then this,
To those, who now with trembling souls, expect
What our proceedings will at last
•
ffect.
Yea, they, perhaps, who now are stupifi'd,
Will praise my lot, whē they their chance have tried.
But (though even all men living should despise
The comfort of it) I the same will prize.
I praise thee for it, LORD, and here emplore.
That I may praise thee for it, evermore:
Th
•
t these expressions of thy love to me,
May helpful also to thy praises be
In other men: And (if it may be so)
In other times, and other places too:
And, that the showing how I did compose
The
wa
•
re
which twixt my
Faith
and
Re
•
son
ros
•
,
M
•
y teach some others how they should debate
Such doubts within themselves; and arbitrate
(Within their
Co
•
rt of Conscience)
what is fit
To be concluded, and so practice it.
For, why so largely, I have this expressed,
That, was not, of my p
•
rposes, the least.
I beg moreover, that I may pursue
To utter that which I have yet to show.
And, that nor Sloth, nor Want, nor any Let,
M
•
y to these
Po
••
es
their last period set,
Till I have made my
Readers
to conceive,
That this was undertaken by thy leave▪
And, that my
Censurers
may come to say,
There was an useful purpose in my stay:
Or show me what they did; or, what I might
Have done to better uses in my flight.
〈◊〉
I lastly, crave (which is, I trust, begun)
That, I
•
he way of thy Commands may run,
The remnant of my
Talent,
and my days,
Employing in good actions, to thy praise:
That, I, forever, may those paths refuse
Which may unhallow, or pervert my
Muse:
And that, when this is done, I may not fall
Through
Pride
or
Sloth
; as if this act were all:
But, humbly strive such other woe
•
kes to do,
As thou r
•
quir'st, and I was borne unto.
Yea fu
•
nish me with everything by which
I best may se
•
ve thee, and I shall be rich.
This beg I, LORD; and nothing else I crave,
For, more then that, were less then naught to have:
I beg of thee, nor Fame, nor mortal praise,
Nor carnal pleasures, nor yet length of days,
Nor honors, nor vain wealth, but, just what may
The Charges of my Pilgrimage defray.
Oh grant me
•
his; and hear me when I call:
For, if thou stand not by me, I shall fall.
The fourth Canto.
Our
Muse,
in this fourth Canto, writes
Of melancholy thoughts, and sights:
Wha
•
changes were in
•
very place;
What Ruines in a little space:
How
Trades,
and how provisions failed;
How
•
orrow thriv'd, how
Death
prevailed;
And, how in
〈◊〉
he did ri
•
e▪
With all his horrors, by his side.
To LONDON, then, she doth declar
•
How suiting her afflictions were
To former sins: what good and bad
Effects, this
Plague
produced had:
W
•
at friendly
Champions,
and what
Foes
For us did fight, or us oppose:
And, how the greatest
Plague
of all
On poor
Artificers,
did fall.
Then, from the
Fields,
new grief she takes,
And, useful Meditations makes:
Relates, how flowly
Vengeance
came,
How, God forewarned us of the same:
What other
Plagues
to this were joined:
And, here and there are interlined
Vpbraidings, warnings, exhortations,
And, pertinent
expostulations.
WHen
Conscience
had allowed my
Commission,
For staying, & declared on what condition;
I did not only feel my heart consent
To entertain it, with a full content,
But also, found myself prepared so
To execute the work I had to do,
That without pain (me thought) I was employed,
And all my
Passions
to good use enjoyed.
For, though God free
•
d my soul from slavish
fear,
Ye
•
, so much awe he still preserved there,
As kept within my he
•
t some natural sense
Oft is displeasure, and of penitence
He gave me
Ioyes,
yet left some
Griefe
withal,
Lest I into security might fall;
Or▪ lose the fellow-feeling of that pain,
Whereo
•
, I heard my neighbors to complain.
He lent me
health
: yet, every day some twitches
Of pangs unusual; many qualme
•
, and stitches
Of short continuance, my poor heart assailed,
That I might heed the more what others ailed.
He kept me hopeful: and yet, now and then,
His rods (wherewith▪ in love, he scourgeth men)
Did make me smart; lest else I might assume
The liberty of
Wantons,
and presume.
My ordinary means was made their prey,
Who seek my spoil, and lately took away.
Yet, me with plenties, daily did he feed,
And I did nothing wan
•
, which I could need,
Which God vouchsafed to assure to me,
That when unusual works required be;
He will (e're we shall want what's necessary)
Supply us by a means, not ordinary.
By many other signs, unmention'd here,
God's love, and providence, did so appear,
And so me thought engage me, to remove
What ever to his work a let might prove;
That (so far forth as my frail natu
•
e could
Admit, and things convenient suffer would)
My own
Affaires
aside, a while I threw,
And bent myself, with heedfulness, to view
What, worth my notice, in thi
•
Plague
I saw,
O
•
, what good uses I from thence might draw.
But,
•
arre I needed not to pace about,
Nor long inquire to find such
Objects
out.
For, every place with sorrows then abounded,
And every way the cries of
Mourning
sounded.
Yea▪ day by day, successively till night,
And from the evening till the morning light,
Were
Sc
•
e
•
es
of Griefe, with strange variety▪
Knit up, in one continuing
Tragedy.
No sooner wak'd I, but twice twenty knells,
And many sadly-sounding
passing-bells,
Did greet mine ear, and by their heavy towles,
To me gave notice, that some early souls
Departed whilst I slept: That other some
Were drawing onward to their longest home;
And, seemingly, presag'd, that many a one
Should bid the world
good-night,
e're it were
noon
•
.
One while the mournful
Tenor,
in her tones
Did yield a sound as if in deep fo
•
groans,
She did bewail the sorrow which attends
The separation of those loving friends,
The Soul and Body. Other while, agen,
Me thought, it called on me, and other men
To pray, that God would view th
•
m with compassiō▪
And give them comfortable separation.
(For, we should with a fellow-feeling, share
In every sorrow, which our brethren bear)
Sometime my Fancy tuned so the Bell▪
As if her
Towlings
did the story tell
Of my mortality, and call me from
This life, by oft, and loudly sounding,
Come.
So long the solitary nights did last,
That I had leisure my accounts to cast;
And think upon, and over-think those things,
Which darkness, lonelinesse, and sorrow brings
To their consideration, who do know,
From whence they came, and whither they must go.
My Chamber entertained me all alone,
And in the rooms adjoining lodged none.
Yet, through the darksome silent night did fly
Sometime an uncouth noise; sometime a cry,
And sometime mournful callings pierced my room,
Which came, I neither knew from whence, nor whom.
And, oft betwixt awaking and asleep,
Their voices who did talk▪ or pray, or weep,
Unto my listening ears a passage found,
And troubled me, by their uncertain sound.
For, though the sounds themselves no terror we
•
e▪
Nor came from anything that I could fear;
Yet, they b
•
ed
Musings
; and those musings bred
Conjecturings,
in my half sleepi
•
g head:
By those Conjectures into mind w
•
re broug
•
t
Some real things, before quite out of thought;
They, divers Fancies to my soul did show,
Which m
•
still further, and still further drew
To follow them; till they did thoughts procure
Which human frailty cannot long endure:
Even such, as when I fully was awake,
Did make my heart to tremble, and to a
•
e.
And, when such frailties have disheartened men▪
Oh! God, how busy is the Devil then?
I know in part his malice, and the ways
And times, and those occasions which he lays
To work upon our weakness; and there is
Scarce any which doth show him like to t
•
is.
I partly also know by what d
•
g
•
ees
He worketh it; how he doth gain or leese
Hi
•
labors; and some sense I have procu
•
'd,
What p
•
ngs are by the soul that while endured.
For, though my God, in mercy, hath indu'd
My Soul with Knowledge, and with Fortitud
•
In such a measure, that I do not fear
(Distractedly) those tortures which appear
In solitary da
•
kness
•
: yet, some part
Of this, and of all frailties in my heart
Continues he; that so I might confess
His mercies with continual thankfulness,
And, somewhat (
•
vermore) about me bear,
Which unto me my frail
•
ies may declare.
Yea (thou
•
h without distemper, now it be)
So much of those grim fears are shown me,
Which terrifi'd my childhood, and which mak
•
The he
•
ts of a
•
ed men, sometimes to quake▪
That I am s
•
nsible of their estate;
And can their case the more compassionate,
Who on their beds of
•
eath do pained lie,
Exil'd from come
•
ort, and f
•
om company,
When dreadful
Fancies
do their souls af
•
ight▪
Begotten by the melancholy nig
•
t.
Glad was I, when I saw the Sun appear,
(And with his Rayes to bless our Hemi
•
phere)
That from the tumbled bed I might arise,
And with more lightsomeness refresh mine eyes:
Or with some good companion
•
,
•
ead, or pray,
To pass, the better, my s
•
d thoughts away:
For, though such
•
houghts oft us
•
full are, and good▪
Yet, knowing well, I was but flesh and blood,
I also knew man's natural condition
Must have in joys, and griefs, an intermission,
Lest too much joy should fill the heart with folly,
Or, too much grief breed dangerous melancholy.
But, when the Morning came, i
•
little shown,
Save light, to see discomfortings renewed:
For, if I staid within, I heard relations
Of naught but dying pang
•
, and lamentations.
If in the Stre
•
ts I did my footing set,
With many sad disasters there I met.
And, objects of mortali
•
y and fear,
I saw in great abundance everywhere.
Here, one man staggered by, w
•
th visage pale:
There, lean'd another, grunting on a stall.
A third, half dead, lay gasping for his grave;
A fourth did out at window call, and rave;
Yonn came the
Bearers,
sweating from the
Pit,
To fetch more bodies to replenish it.
A little further off, one sits, and shows
The
spots,
which he
Deaths tokens
doth suppose,
(E're such they be) and, makes them so indeed;
Which had been
signs of heal
•
h,
by taking heed.
For, those
round-purple-spot
•
,
which most have thoght
Deaths
fatal tokens (where they forth are b
•
ought,)
May prove
Life tokens,
if that ought be done,
To help the work, which
Natur
•
h
•
th begun.
Whereas, that fear, which their opinion brings
Who threaten
Death
; the want of cordial things
(To help remove that poison from the heart,
Which
Nature
hath expelled thence in part)
And then, the
Sickm
•
ns
liberty of having
Cold drinks, and what his appetite is craving,
Brings back again those humors pestilent,
Which by the vital pow'rs had fo
•
th been sent.
So by recharging him that was before
Nigh spent, the fainting Combatant gives over:
And he that cheerfully did raise his head,
Is often, in a moment, stricken dead.
Fea
•
e
also helps it forward. Yea, the terror
Occasion'd, by their fond and common error,
Who tell the
sick
•
,
that marked for Death they be,
(When those
bl
•
w spots
upon their flesh they see)
Even that hath murthred thousands, who might here
Have lived,
•
lse, among us, many a year.
For, if the
Surgeons,
or the
Searchers,
know
Those
marks,
which for the marks of death do go,
From
common-spots,
or
purples,
(which we must
Confess, or else all kind of spots d
•
str
•
st)
Then, such as we
Death-tokens
call, were seen
On some, that have long since, recovered been.
Before I learned this, I fixed mine eyes
On many a private man's calamities,
And saw the Streets (wherein a while ago
We s
•
arce could pass, the people filled them so)
Appeare nigh desolate; yea, quite forlorn
And for their wonted visitant
•
to mourn.
Much peopled
Westminster,
where late, I saw,
So many rev'rend
Judges
of the Law,
With Clients, and with Suitors hemmed round:
Where
Courts
and
Palaces
did so abound
With bus
•
nesses: and, wh
•
re, together met
Our
Thrones
of
Justice,
and our
Mercy-seat
;
That place, was then frequented, as you see
Some
Villages
on
Holy-days
will be
When half the Towneship, and the Hamlets nigh
Are met to revel, at some Parish, by.
Perhaps, the wronging of the Orphans cause,
Denying, or perverting of the Laws
There practiced, did set this
Plague
abr
•
eding,
And sent the
Terme
from
Westminster
to
Reading.
Her goodly
Church
and
Chapel,
did appear
Like some poor
Minster
which hath twice a year
Four visitants: And, her great
Hall,
wherein
So great a
Randevow
had lately
•
in,
Did look like those old
Structure
•
,
where long since
Me
•
say, King
Arthur
kept his residence.
The
Parliament
had left her, to go see
If they could learn at
Oxford
to agree;
Or if that air were better
•
or the health
And safety of our English
Common-wealt
•
.
But there, some did so counsel, and so urge
The Body politic to take a purge,
To purify the parts that seemed foul:
Some others did that motion so
•
on
•
roll,
And plead so much for Cordials, and for that
Which strengthen might the sinews of the
State,
That all the time, the labor, and the cost,
Which had bestowed been, was wholly lost.
And, here, the empty House of
Parliament
Did l
•
oke as if i
•
had been disco
•
t
•
nt,
Or grieved (me thought) that
Oxford
should not be
More pro
•
perous, yet; nor c
•
uld I any see
Res
•
rt to come
•
ort her: But, there did I
Behold two
Traitors
he
•
s, which perching high,
Did show their
teeth,
as if they had been grinning
At those Affli
•
tious which are now beginning.
Yea, their wide
•
ye holes,
star'd, me thought, as th
•
They looked
•
o see that
House
now overthrow
It self, which they with Powder up had blown,
Had God, their snares, and them, not overthrown.
White Hall,
where not three months before▪ I spi'd
Great
Britain
in the height of all her pride,
And,
France
with her contending, which could most
Outbrave old
Rome
and
Persi
•
,
in their cost
On
Robes
and
Feasts
: Even that lay solitary,
As doth a quite-forsaken
Monast
•
ry
In some lone Forest; and we could not pass
To many places, but through weeds and grass.
Perhaps, the sins, of late, committed
•
here,
Occasions of such desolation were.
Pray God, there be not others, in the
State,
That will make all, a
•
last, be desolate.
The
Stra
•
d,
that goo
•
lie thorough-fare between
•
The
Court
and
City
(and where I have seen
Well nigh a million pa
•
sing in one day)
Is now, almost, an unfrequented way:
And peradventure, for those impudencies,
Those riots, and those other foul offenses,
Which in that place were frequent, when it had
So great resort;
•
t is now justly made
To stand unvisited▪ God grant it may
Repent▪ lest longer, and another way
It stand unpeopled, or some others use
Those blessings, which the owners now abuse.
The
City-houses
of our English
P
•
eres,
Now smoakt as seldom, as in other years
Their
Country-palaces
: and, they perchance
Much better know then doth my ignorance,
Why so it came to pass. But, wish I shall
That they their ways to mind would better call;
Le
•
t both their Country▪ and their City-piles,
Be smoking seen, and burning, many miles.
The
Inns of Court
I entered; and I saw
Each Roome so desolate, as if the
Law
Had out-law'd all her
Students
; or that there
Some feared arrestings, whe
•
e no
Sergeants
were.
Most dream, that this great fright was thither sent
Not purposely, but came by accident;
And so, but little use is taken from
God's
Judgments,
to amend the times to come.
Yet, I dare say, it was a warning given
Even by appointment: and decreed in heaven:
To s
•
gnifie, that if our
Lawyers
will
In their abusive ways continue still,
The cause of their profession quite fo
•
getting▪
And to their practices no limits setting,
Till they (as hereto
•
ore the Clergy were)
Are moe in number then the
Land
can bear.
Their goodly
Palaces
shall spew them forth,
As excrements that have nor use nor worth;
And, be disposed of, as now they s
•
e,
The
Priories,
and
Monasteries
be.
It grieved me to behold this woeful change,
And places so well known, appear so strange.
But, oh poor
LONDON!
when I looked on thee,
Remembering therewithal, thy jollity
Erewhile; and how soon after I did meet
With grief and sad complaints in ev'
•
y street▪
When I did mind how throng
•
d thy Ga
•
es have been
And then perceived so few past out or in.
When I considered that abundant store
Of wealth, which thou discover'dst heretofore:
And, looking on thy many empty
stalls,
Beheld thy
shops
set up their wooden-walls▪
Me
•
hought, thou should
•
t not be that
London,
w
•
ich
Appear'd of late so populous, and rich;
But, some large
Burrough
; either falling from
Her height; or, not unto her greatness come.
If to thy
Port
I walked; it moved remorse,
To see how gr
•
atly, Trade and Intercourse
Decayed there; and what depopulations,
Were made in thy late peopled habitations.
Thy
Royal Change,
which was the Randevow
Wherein all Nations met, the whole world through,
Within whose princely walls we heard the sound
Of every Language spoke on Earths vast
Round
;
And where we could have known what had been done
In every foreign
Coast
below the Sun:
That
Place,
the City-Merchant, and the Stranger
Avoyded as a place of certain danger:
And feared (as it seems) they might have had
Some bargain there, that would have spoild their trade
Thy large
Cath
•
drall,
whose decaying frame
Thou leavest unrepaired to thy shame,
Had scarce a
Walker
in her
middle I will
;
And, every Ma
•
ble of tha
•
ancient
Pile,
Did often drop, and seem to shed forth tears,
For thy late ruin, though thou sleightest hers.
The time hath been, that once a day, from thence,
We could have
••
d a large intelligence
Of most occurences, that public were.
Y
•
a, many times we had▪ relations there,
Of things, who
•
e foolish actors never thought
Their deeds to open scanni
•
g should be brought.
There, heard we oft made public by report,
What
S
••
resi
•
s
were whisper'd in the
Court.
The
Closet-Cou
•
sels,
and the Chamber work,
Which many think in privacy doth lurk.
There heard we what those
Lord's,
and
Ladies
were,
Who m
•
t disguised,
•
hey know when, and where.
The
•
e
•
eard we what they did, and what they said;
And many foolish plots were there bew
•
ai
•
:
There, heard we reasons, why such men were made
Gre
•
t
Lord's
and
Knights,
who no deserving had,
In common view: and how gre
•
t
Pr
•
nces
eyes
Are dazzled
•
nd abused wi
•
h fallacies.
Th
•
re heard we for what
G
•
f
•
s
most
Doctors
rise,
And gain the
Church
•
s
•
ighest dignities.
The truest causes also there we
•
e known,
Why men advanced are, or pulled down.
Why
Officers
are changed, or displaced;
Why some confined are and some di
•
graced;
And w
•
at amo
•
g the wise, those men do seem,
That are great
Stat
•
smen,
in their own es
•
eeme.
Th
•
re we have heard, what Princ
•
s have intended,
When they to do s
•
me other thing p
•
e
•
ended.
What
Policies
▪ and
Projects,
men pursue▪
With public aims, and with a pious s
•
ew.
Why from the
Counsel
one is turned out;
What makes another counterfeit the gout,
And many other mysteries beside,
Whith hardly can the mentioning abide.
But those
Athenian
Merc
•
antmen were gone,
Who made exchange of News; and few or none
To hear or make reports remained there.
Yea they who scarce a day (as if they were
Of
Paul's
the walking
Statues)
staid from thence
Since
LONDON
felt the last great
Pestilence,
Even they were gone; and those void
Isles
d
•
d look
As if some
properties
had them
•
orsooke.
Our
Theaters,
our
Taverns, Tennis-courts,
And Gaming houses whither great resorts
Were w
•
nt to come; then, seldom were frequented:
Not that such vanities we much repented;
But, lest those places, which had follies taught us,
Might some reward, unlooked for, have brought us.
Where we with Pestilences of the
•
oule
Each other had polluted and made foul,
Our bodies were infected; and our breat
•
s,
Which had endangered our e
•
ernall de
•
t
•
s,
(In former times) by uttring heresies,
By
•
candals, and by basest flatteries,
Or wanton speeches; put
•
ifide the Air,
The blood even at the fountain did impair,
To cool our lust▪ And they that were the bliss
••
Of some▪ men's lives, did poison them with kisses.
The Ma
•
kets which a while before did yield
What air, se
•
s, riv
•
rs, garden, wood, or field,
To furnish them afforded; no
•
had naught,
But what some few in secret thither brought.
For (as a foresaid) it was ordered so,
That none should with p
•
ov
•
sions, come or go.
So, like a Town beleaguered thou didst fare,
In some respect
•
: And, but that God had care
By m
•
king others feel necessities
Which forced them to minister supplies;
Thou hadst been famished, or been fain to b
•
ing
Provisions in by way of forraging:
And then their foolishness, had brought upon
Those men, two mischiefs, who did fear but one.
Hereafter there
•
fore, practice well to use
Those plenties thou didst he
•
etofore abuse;
Lest God,
•
gain bereave thee of thy sto
•
e,
And never so enlarge his bounty more.
For, to co
•
rect thy
Surfeits,
and
Excess,
Thy slighting of the poor, thy thanklesnesse,
And such like sins; God woe
•
thily rest
•
ained
Those plenties which thy pride and lust maintained.
Thy Dwellings, f
•
om whose windows I have se
•
n
A thousand Ladies, that might Queens have been
For bravery, and beauty: And, some far
More fair then they that famed in
Legends
are.
Those s
•
ood unpeopled, as those
•
ouse
•
do
Which
Sprights,
and Fairies do reso
•
t unto.
None to their closed wicke
•
s made repai
•
e;
Their empty gasemen
•
s gaped wide for air;
And where once foot clot
•
es and Ca
•
oches were
Attending; now stood
Coffi
•
s,
and a
Biere.
Yea Coffins oftener past by every door,
Th
•
n Coaches, and Caroches, heretofo
•
e▪
To see a country Lady, or a Knight
Among us then, had been a
•
rare a sigh
•
As was that
Elephant
which came from Spain,
O
•
some great Monster spewd out of the
Maine.
If by mischance the people in the street,
A
Courtier,
or a Gentleman did meet,
They with as much amazement him did view,
As if they had beheld the wand
•
ing
•
ew.
And, many, seeing me to keep this place,
Did look as if they much bewaild my cas
•
,
And h
•
l
•
e belee'vd that I was doomed hither,
That (since close-prison, half a year together,
Nor private wrongs, nor public dis-respect,
Could break my heart, nor much the same deject)
This
Plague
might kill me, which is come to whip
Those faults which her
•
tofore my pen did strip.
But here I walked in safety to behold
What changes, for instructio
•
, see I could.
And, as I wandered on, my eye did meet,
Those half built
Pageants
whi
•
h, a thwa
•
t the street,
Did those triumphant Arches counterfeit,
Which heretofore in ancient
Rome
were fet,
When their victorious
Generalls
had thither
The spoil of mighty kingdoms b
•
ought together.
The loyal Citizens (
•
lthough they lost
The glory of their well-intended cost)
E
•
ected those great Structures to renown
The new receiving o
•
the Sovereign Crown
By hopeful
CHARLES (whose royal exaltation,
Make thou oh! God, propitious to this Nation.)
But when those works, imperfect, I beheld,
They di
•
new c
•
uses of sad musings yield,
Portending ruin. And, did seem, me thought,
In honor of Deaths trophees to be wroug
•
t;
Much rather, then from purposes to
•
pring
Which aimed at the honor of a King.
For, their unpolisht form, did make them fit
For d
••
efull
Showes:
yea,
DEATH
on them did sit.
His
Captives
passed under ev
••
y
Arch
;
Among them, as in
Triumph
he did march;
Through every Street, upon men's backs were borne
His Conquests. His b
•
ack Live
•
ies were woe
•
ne▪
In every House almost. Hi
•
spoils were brought
To every Temple. Many Vaults were frau
•
ht
With his new prizes And his followers grew
To such a multitude, that half our Eugh,
And all our Cypress t
•
ees, could ha
•
dly lend him
A branch for everyone who did attend him.
My Fancy did present to me that hour
A glimpse of
DEATH
even in his greatest power.
Me thought I saw him, in a Charret ride,
With all his grim companions by his side.
Such as
Oblivion,
and
Corruption
be.
Not half a step before him,
•
ode these t
•
ree,
(On Monsters backed)
Paine, Horror,
and
Despair:
Whose fury, had not
Faith,
and
Hope,
and
Prayer,
Prevented, through God's m
•
rcy none had ever
Escap'd Destruction by their best endeavor.
For, next to
Death,
came
Judgment:
after whom,
Hell
w
•
th devou
•
ing laws, did gaping come,
To swallow all: But, she at
One
di
•
snap,
Who now, for many, hath made way to scape.
Death
's Carr, with many chains, & ropes, & strings,
And, by a mu
•
titude of several th
•
ngs,
As
Pleasures, Passions, Cares,
and such as they,
Was drawn along upon a beaten way,
New gravel'd with old bones: and,
Sin
did seem
To be the foremost
Beast
of all the
Teeme:
And,
Sickness
to be that whi
•
h hailed next
The
Charret wheel
; for, none I s
•
w betwixt.
Time
led the way; and,
Justice
did appea
•
e,
To sit before, and play the
Chariote
•
r.
For since our
Sin
to p
•
ll on
Death
begun,
The whip of
Justice
makes the Charret run.
There was of Trumpets, and of Drums the sound;
But in loud cries, and roarings it was drowned.
Sad
El
•
gies,
and songs of
Lamentation
Were howled out; but, moved no compassion.
Skulls, Coffi
•
s, Spades, and Mattocks placed were
About the Charret. Crawling
Wormes
were there
And whatsoever else might signify
Deaths
nature, and weak man's mortality.
Before the Cha
•
ret, such a multitude
Of ev'
•
y Nation in the world I viewed,
That neither could my eye so far perceive,
As they were th
•
onging; nor my heart conceive
Their countlesse number. For, all those that were
Since
Abel
died, he drove before him there.
And▪ of those thousands, dying long ago,
Some here and there, among them, I did know,
Whose Virtues them in death distinguished
(In spite of
Death)
from others of the dead.
I saw them stand, me thought, as you shall see
High spreading
Oaks,
which in
•
el'd Copses be,
O're-top the shrubs; and, where scarce two are found
Of growth, within ten thousand ro
•
of ground.
O
•
those who died within the Age before
This year, I sc
•
rce distinguished a score
From Beasts, and Fowls, & Fishes. For,
Death
makes
So little difference twixt the flesh he takes,
That, into dust alike he
•
urnes it all.
And▪ if no virtue make distinction sh
•
ll,
Those men who did of much in lifetime boast,
Shall dying in the common heap be lost.
But, of though
•
e
Captives
which my fantasie
Presented to my apprehensions eye
To grace this
Mon
•
r
•
es
Triump
•
; most I heeded
Those t
•
oups, which next before the
Carr
proceeded,
Even those which in the circuit of this year,
The prey of
Death
within our Island were:
It was an
Army royal,
which bec
•
me
A King, and loe, King
JAMES
did lead the same.
The Duke of
Richmond,
and his only brother
The Duke of
Lenox,
seconded each other.
Next
•
hem, in this attendance followed on
That noble
Sco
•
,
the Marquis
Hammilton,
Sou
•
hampton, Su
•
folk, Oxford, Nottingham,
And
Holdernesse,
their Earledomes leaving, came
To wait upon this Triumph. There I saw
Some rev'rend
Bishops,
and some men of
Law,
As
Winchester,
and
Hubbard,
and I know not
Who else▪ for to their memories I owe not
So much as here to name them: nor do I
Upon me take to mention punctually
Their order of departing, nor to swear
That all of these fell just within the year.
For of the time if somewhat I do miss,
The matter sure, not much material is.
Some Barons and some Viscounts, saw I too▪
Zouch, Bacon, Chichester,
and others moe,
Whose Titles I forg
•
t. There fol
•
ow'd then
Some Officers of note; some Aldermen;
Great store of Knights, and Bu
•
guesses, with whom
A couple marched, that had the
Shcriff
•
dome
Of London that sad year: the one of which
In Piety and Virtue died so rich,
(If his surviving fame may
•
e believed)
That for his loss the City much hath grieved.
To be an honor to him, here, therefore
I fixe the name of
Crisp,
which name he bore:
And I am hopeful it shall none offend,
The Muses do this right unto their friend.
Some others also of great state and place,
To me no
•
known by office, name, nor face,
Made up the concou
•
se. But, the common Rabble
To number or distingu
•
sh, none was able.
For, rich and poor, men, women, old and young,
So fast and so confusedly did throng;
By strokes of
Death,
so marked, so gastly wounded,
So thrust together, and so much confounded
Among that glut of people, which from hence
Were sent among them, by the
Pestilence,
That possible it was not, to descry
Or who or what they were who passed by.
Yet, now and then, me thought, I had the view
Of some who much resembled those I knew.
And▪ fain I would the favor have pro
•
u
•
ed
To keep their Names from being quite obscured
Among the multitude. But, they were gone
Before the means could well be thought upon.
And pass they must for aye, unknown of me:
For, this was but a waking Dream, I see.
These
Fancies
▪ Melancholy often bred:
Yea, many such like
Pageants
in my head
My working apprehension did beget,
According to those objects which I met.
Some, full of comfort, able to relieve
The heart wh
•
m dread
•
ull thoughts did over-grieve.
Some full of horror▪ such as they have had
(It I mistake nor) th
•
t grow desp'rate mad.
Some, like to their illusions, who in s
•
ead
Of being humbled in this place of dread▪
Are puffed up by their deliverance:
And being full of dangerous a
•
rogance,
Abuse t
•
eir souls, with vain imaginations,
Ill-grounded hopes, suggested revelations,
And such like toys, which in their hearts arise
From their own Pride, and Satan's fallacies.
Some, such as these I had; and other some,
Which cannot be by words expressed from
My troubled heart. And, if I had not got
God's hand, to help untie the
•
r
Gordian-k
•
ot
;
His presence, my bold reas'nings to control;
To curb my passion; to inform my soul;
My faith to strengthen; doubtings to abate;
And so to comfort,
•
nd to arbitrate,
That I m
•
ght see I was of him beloved,
(Though me with many sec
•
et
•
ears he proved)
Su
•
e, in myself, some
Hell
I had invented,
Wher endless thoughts, & doubts, had me tormented.
But, God those depths hath showed me, that I might
See
•
hat we carry in ourselves to fright
Our selves withal And what a hell of fear
Is in our ve
•
y souls, till he be there.
Even when I had the b
•
ight
••
sse of the day,
To chase my melancholy thoughts away,
I was to musings troublesome disposed,
As well as when the da
•
knesse me enclosed;
Th
•
t, by experiments, w
•
ich real are,
Those horrors which to others oft appear
(And are not demonstrable) might in part
Be felt in me, to mollify my heart;
To stir up hearty thankfuln
•
sse; and make
My soul, in him the greater pleasure take.
For frō those prospects, & those thoughts that g
•
ieve me,
I, those ext
•
actions make that much relieve me.
And when my inward combatings a
•
e past,
It give
•
h to my joys the sweeter taste.
But leaving th
•
s, I will again return
To that for which the people soonest mourn.
I looked along the Streets
〈◊〉
chiefest trade;
And, there, perpetual
Holiday
they made.
They that one day in sev'n could not forbear
From trading; had not one in half a year.
And, all which some had fro
•
their childhood got,
The charges of their flight defrayed not.
To m
•
ke the greedy
Cormorant
regard
The
Sabbath
more, and of ill gains affear'd.
False wa
•
es, fall
•
e oaths, false measures, and false weights,
False promises, a
•
d
•
alsified lights,
Were punished with false hopes, false joys, false fears,
False servants, and false frien
•
s, to them, and theirs.
The
•
who of late their neighbors did contemn,
Had not a neig
•
bour le
•
t to comfort them,
W
•
en neighbourhood was need
•
ull Such as were
Self-love
•
s,
by th
•
mselves remained here;
And w
•
nted those contentments, which arise,
Fro
•
Christian
Love,
and mutual Amities.
Mo
•
t
Trades
were tradefaln, & few Merchāts thriv'd,
Save those men, who by
Death
and
Sickness,
lived.
The
Sextons, Searchers,
they that
Corpses
ca
•
ie,
The
Herb-wife, Drugg
•
st,
and
Apothecary,
Phy
•
itians, Surgeons, Nurses, Co
••
in-makers,
Bold
Mounteb
•
nckes,
and shameless undertakers,
To cure the
Pe
•
t
in all; these, rich become:
And what we pray to be delivered from
Was their advantage. Yea, the worst of these
Grew stout, and fat, and proud by this disease.
So
•
e, vented refuse w
•
res, at three times more,
Than what is best, was prized at before.
Some set upon their labors such high rates▪
As passed Reason: so, they whose estates
〈◊〉
fail of reaching to a price so high,
Were fain to perish without remedy.
Some, wolvishly, did prey upon the quick,
Some, theevishly, purloined from the sick.
Some robbed the dead of sheets, some, of a grave,
That there another guest may lodging have:
Yea, Custom had so hardened most of them,
That they God's Judgments wholly did contemn.
They, so hard-hearted, and so stupid grew,
So dreadlesly their course they did pursue,
Yea so they flouted, and such jests did make
At that, for which each Christian heart did ache,
That greater were the Plague their mind to have,
Then of the
Pestilence
to lie and rave.
Now muse I not at what
Thucydides
Reporteth of such wicked men as these,
When
Athens
was depopulated nigh
By such a Pestilence. Nor wonder I,
That when the
Plague
did this time sixty year
Oppresse the Town of
Lions,
that some there
Were said to ravish women, even when death
Was drawing from the
•
their last gasp o
•
breath.
And when infectious B
•
aines on them th
•
y saw,
Which
•
ight have kept their lustful flesh in awe.
For man once hardened in impenitence,
Is left unto a reprobated sense.
Till God shall s
•
nct
•
fie i
•
, weal, nor woe,
Can make us fear him as we ought to do.
His love made wanton
Is
•
'
•
l
•
purne at him;
His plagues made
Phar'oh,
his sharpst rod contemn:
And as the Sun from dunghills, and from sinks,
Produceth nothing but rank weeds, and s
•
inks;
Yet makes a Garden of well-tilled ground,
With wholesome fruits, and fragrant flowers abound:
Or, as in bruising, one thing senteth well,
Another yields a loathsome, stifling smell;
So,
Plagues
and
Blessings,
their effect
•
declare,
According as their sev'rall objects are.
Indeed, my young experience never saw,
So much security, and so much awe
Dwell both together in one place, as here
In this mortality, there did appear.
I am persuaded, time and place was never
In which afflicted men did more endeavor
By tears, vows, prayers and true penitence,
To paci
••
e God's wra
•
h for
•
heir offense.
Nor ever was it seen, I think, before,
That men in wickedness
•
presumed more.
Here you should meet a man with bleared eyes,
Bewailing our increasing miseries;
Another there▪ quite reeling drunk▪ o
•
spewing,
And by renewed sins, o
•
r woes renewing
There sat a
piece of sh
•
melesnesse,
whose flaring
Attires and looks, did show a monstrou
•
daring:
For, in the postures of true impu
•
ence,
She seemed as if she woo
•
d the
Pestilence
Yonn talked a couple, ma
•
ter worth your hearing:
Hard by, were others, telling lies, or sw
•
aring.
Some st
•
eets had
Ch
•
rches
full of people, weeping:
Some others,
Taverns
had, rude-revel keepin
•
:
Within some houses
Psalms
and
Hymns
wer sung:
W
•
th railings, and loud scouldings, others rung.
More
C
•
arity,
did never, yet, appear:
Nor more maliciousness, then we had here.
True piety was ominentl
•
known;
H
•
po
•
risie as evidently shown.
More avarice, mor
•
gapers for the wealth
O
•
such as died; no former times of health
Afforded us; nor men of larger heart,
•
hings need
•
ull for their brethren, to impart.
Their masters goods, some servants lewdly spent,
In nightly feastings, foolish merriment,
And lewd uncleanness. O
•
her some again,
Did such an honest carefulness
•
etaine,
That their endeavo
•
s had a good success,
And,
Man,
and
Master
m
•
t with joyfulness.
Yea,
Good
and
Evil,
penitence and sin
Did here so d
•
ive each other out and in;
That in observing it, I saw, me thought,
In sight of Heaven, a d
•
ead
•
ull
Comb
•
t
fought
Concerning this whole
Island,
which yet lies,
To be God's purchas
•
, or the Devil
•
prize.
Vice
wounded
V
•
rtue; Virtue
oit co
•
peld
The strongest
Vices
to forsake the field.
Distrust
raised up a storm, to drive
•
way
Sure-help,
our ship, which at
Hopes
anchor la
•
;
And brought supplies with every wind and tide,
Whereby this Land was fed and fo
•
tifi
•
d.
The
Fort
of
Faith,
was plaid on by
D
•
spai
•
e:
But then the gun-shot o
•
continual-Prayer
(Well aim'd
•
t
Heaven) Devotion
so did ply,
That, he dismounts the
Foes Artillery.
The
Spirit
and the
Flesh
together strive,
And, oft each other into peril drive.
Presumption,
huge high
Scaling ladders,
r
•
ared,
And then the taking of our
Fort
was feared.
But
awful Reverence
did him oppo
••
,
And with
Humilities
de
•
pe
Trench
enclose
The
Platforme
of that Fortress, from whose Towres
We fight with
Principalities,
and
Powers.
Suggestion
lay
pur due
by
Contemplation,
And sought to disadvantage
M
•
ditation.
The
Regiment
of
Prudence
was assailed,
By head-strong
Ignorance,
who much prevailed
Where
Temperance
was quartered, there I saw
Excess
and
Riot,
both together draw
Their troops against her: and, I some espy'd
To yield, and overcome on either side▪
The place that v
•
liant
Fortitude
made good,
Faint-heartedness
(though out of sight he stood)
Did cowardly oppose, and courses take,
Which otherwhile his Constancy did shake.
For
Carnal policy
her Engineer,
Had closely suncke a
Mine
which had gone near
To blow all up. But
Providence
divine
Did soon prevent it by a
Counter-mine.
Yet
Moral-Justice
(though a
Court o
•
Gu
•
rd
Was placed, and oft r
•
leeved in her
Ward)
Had much ado to m
•
ke a strong defense
Against her
Foes.
For,
Fraud,
and
Violence,
Respect of persons, Fear, Hate, Perjury,
Faire-speaking,
and corrupting
Brib
•
ry,
Did wound her much; though she did often take
Avengement; and o
•
some, examples make.
Some
Vices,
there, I saw themselves disguise
Like
Virtues,
that their Foes they might surprise;
As do the Dunkirks, when aboord to lay
Our ships, an
English
flag they do display.
Pride
went for
Come
••
nesse:
profuse
Excess,
For
Hospitality
: base
Drunkenness
Was called
Good fello
•
ship:
blunt
Rashness
came
Attyr'd li
•
e
Valour: Sloth
had got the name
Of
Quietnesse:
accursed
Avarice,
Was termed
Good husbandry.
Mere
Cowardice
Appear'd like prudent
Warinesse,
and might
Have passed for a very valiant wight.
Yea, every
Vice,
to gain his purpose, had
So
•
e ma
•
kes o
•
virtue-like disguise
•
made▪
And, many times, such hellish plo
•
s were laid,
Th
•
t divers moral
Virtues
were gainsaid,
Defam'd, pursued, and wounded by their own;
Whose glory had no
•
else been overthrown.
•
ust-de
•
ling
hath been took for
Cruelty
:
Pure-love
for
Lust
: upright
Integri
•
y
For cu
•
ning
Falsh
•
od:
yea, divinest
Graces
Have been at variance brought in divers Cases,
(By wicked
Stratagems)
that vain Inventions,
M
•
ght frustrate pious works, and good intentions.
To forth
•
stri
•
e, great
Quarrels
broached are,
Twixt
Faith
and
Works.
There is another j
•
r
Begun erewhile, betwixt no worse a pai
•
e,
Then
Preachin
•
,
and her blessed Sister
Prayer.
God grant they m
•
y agree; for, I
•
e're knew
A quiet
Church,
but where they kept one Pew.
Faith
and
Repentance
also are, of late,
About their
Birth-rig
•
t
fallen at d
•
bate.
But by the
Church-books
it appears to me
Their
Bir
•
hs
and their
Conceptions
mentioned be
Without such nice regard to their precedings,
As some have urged in their needless pleadings.
And, so it pleased the
Father, Son
and
Spirit
:
Because that
Law
by which they shall inherit
The promist meed; doth never question move,
How soon or late, but how sincere they prove.
Moreover, in this
•
attell
I espy'd
Some
Ambodexters,
fight on either side.
The
Moralist,
who all Religion wants;
Church-Papists
; Time-observing
Protestants.
All
Double-dealers▪ Hypocrites,
and such
Base
Neutrals,
who have scandalized much,
And much endangered those who do contend
This
•
le,
from desolation, to defend.
Beside these former
Combatants,
which fought
Against or for us; I perceived, me thovght,
Both good and evil
Angels
fi
•
hting too,
The one, to help; the other, ha
•
me to do.
And though thi
•
battle yet appeareth not
To common view, so cru
•
ll nor so hot
As I conceive it: yet it will appear
To all in time, with comfort, or with fear.
For, s
•
ill, and every day, those enemies
Stand a
•
m'd and watc
•
ing opportunities
To seize
•
us; and will seize us, if th
•
s
•
times
Shall make complete the measure of our Crimes;
Or our continuing
•
ollies drive away
Our Ange
•
l G
•
ard, which doth our
•
all delay.
Oh st
•
y them Lord! and make that side the stro
•
ger,
For whom this Lan
•
sh
•
ll yet be sp
••
ed longer.
And let us, my dea
•
e C
•
untrimen, with speed,
Of that which so conce
•
neth us, take h
••
d.
Obse
•
ve, thou famoust City of this L
•
nd,
How h
•
avily on thee God lays his hand.
The very rumor of this
Plague
did make
The fa
•
th
•
st dwellers of this
I will
to shak
•
:
And such a sent of
D
•
ath
they seemed to c
•
ry,
Who in o
•
nea
•
e about thy Climat
•
tarry,
That, from the
Mount
to
Ba
•
w
•
ck
they were hated,
Or shunned, as persons excommunicated.
•
nd three weeks erring on old
Sarum
plain,
Woul
•
••
arce a lodging for a brother gain.
Yea, mark, ma
•
k
London,
and confess with me,
That God
•
at
•
justly thus afflicted thee,
And that in every point this
Plague
hath been
According to the nature of thy sin.
In thy prosperity, such was thy pride,
That thou the
Countries
plainn
•
sse didst deride.
Thy wanton Children would oft straggle out,
At honest husban
•
men to jeer and flou
•
.
Their homely garments, did offend thine eyes:
They did their rural Dia
•
ect
•
despise▪
Their games and merriments (which for them, be
As commendable, as are thine for thee)
Thou laughedst at: their gestures, and their fashions,
Their very diet, an
•
their habitations
Were sported at: yea, those ungrateful Things,
Did scoff them for their hearty
Welcomings
;
And taught even those that had been country-born
The wholesome places of their birth to scorn.
And,
see,
now
see,
those thankless ones are fain
To seek their fathers thatched Roofes again;
And, ask those
good old women
blessing, whom
They did not see, since they did rich become;
And never would have seen, perhaps, unless
This
Plague
had whipped their ingratefulnesse.
Yea, thine own natural Children have been glad
To scrape acquaintance where no friends they had;
To praise a homely, and a sm
•
ky
Shed
;
A dark low
Parlour,
an unea
••
e
Bed
;
An ill dressed di
•
t; yea, perchance, commend
A chu
•
lish Landlord, for an honest Friend;
Yet be contented bo
•
h to pray and pay,
That they may leave obtain with him to stay.
And peradventure, some of those who plaid
The scoffers hereto
•
ore, were fully pai
•
.
Th
•
n,
Citizens
were sha
•
k
•
, and prey'd upon,
In recompense of wrong
•
before time done
To silly Countrim
•
n; and were defeated
Of
•
ha
•
, whereof, some Rusticks, they had cheated.
Moreover, for the
Countries
imitations
Of thy fantastic, vain, and fruitless fashions,
(Of thy apparel, and of thy excess
•
In Feasts, in Games, in Lust, in Idleness;
With such abominations) some of those
Who came from thee, shall doubtlesly dispose
To every
Shire
a
Vial
of that wrath,
Which thy transgression long deserved hath:
That, thou and they, who sinners were together,
May Rods be made to punish one another;
And give each other bitterness
•
to sup,
As you have jointly quaft of
Pleasures
Cup.
As to and fro I walked, that I might
On every ruthful
Object
fix my sight,
Upon those
Golgatha's
I cast mine eye,
Where all the comm
•
n people buried lie.
Lie buried did I say? I should have said,
Where C
•
rkasses to bury Graves were laid.
Lord! what a sight was there? & what strong smells
Ascended from among
Death
's loathsome Cells?
You scarce could make a little Infants bed
In all those
Plots,
but you should pare a head,
An arm, a shoulder, or a leg away,
O
•
one or other who there buried lay.
One grave did often many scores enclose
Of men and women: and, it may be those
That could not in two Parishes agree,
Now in one little room at quiet be.
Yonn lay a heap of skulls; another there;
Here, half unburied did a Corpse appear.
Close by, you might have seen a brace of feet
That had kicked off the rotten winding-sheet.
A little further saw we othersome,
Thrust out th
•
ir arms for want of elbow room.
A lock of woman's hair; a dead man's face
Vncover'd; and a gastly sight it was.
Oh! here, here v
•
ew'd I what the gl
•
ries be
Of pampered flesh: here plainly did I see
How grim those
•
eauties
will e're long appear,
Which we so dote on, and so cove
•
, here.
Here was enough to cool the hottest flame
Of lawless lust. Here, was enough to tame
The ma
•
st ambition. And, all they that go
Vnbetter'd from such objects; worse do grow.
From hence (fo
•
here was no abiding long)
Our
Allies
and our
Lanes,
I walked among,
Where those
Artificers
their dwell
•
ings had,
By whom our idle
Traders
rich are made.
The
Plague
rav'd there indeed. For, who were they
Whom th
•
t
Contagion
fastest swept away
But those whose d
•
ily lab'
•
ing hands did feed
Their honest Families? and greatly steed
This place by their mechanic industries?
These are the swarms of
Bees,
w
•
ose painful thighs
Bring
Wax
unto this
Hive
; and from whose bones
The
Honey
drops, that feedeth many
Drones.
These are the
Bulwarks
of this
•
enselesse
Town,
And when this
Wall of Bones
is overthrown,
Our stately Dwellings, now both fair and tall,
Will quickly, of themselves, to ruin fall.
Of these, and of t
•
eir households, day
•
y died
Twice more then did of all sorts else beside;
And hungry
Poverty
(without reliefes)
Did much inrag
•
and multipliply their griefs.
The
Rich
could fly; or, if they staid, they had
Such means that their disease the less was made▪
Yea, those poor aged folks that make a show
Of greatest need, did boldly come and go,
To ask men's Alms▪ or what their Parish granted;
An
•
nothing at this time those people wanted,
But thankfulness▪ less malice to ea
•
h other;
A
•
d grace to live more quietly together.
Their bodies, d
•
y'd with age, were seldom struck
By this
Disease
▪ Their neighbors notic
•
took
Of all their wants. Among them, were not many
That had
•
ull fam
•
lies. Or if that any
Of these had children sick; some good supplies
Were sent them from the general Charities.
Moreover, common
Beggers
are a nation
Not always keeping in one habitation.
They can remove as time occasion brings:
They have their progresses as well as King;
And most of these, when hence the rich did go,
Remov'd themselves into the Country too.
The rest about our streets did ask their bread,
And never in their lives, were fuller fed.
But, those good people mentioned before,
Who, till their work did fail them, fed the poor
As well as others; and maintained had
Great families, by
•
ome laborious trade:
Ev'
•
those di
•
suffer most. For, neither having
Provision left them, nor the face o
•
craving;
Nor means of labor: First, to pawn they sent
Their brass and pewter: t
•
en, their bedding went.
Their garments next▪ or stuff of best esteem:
At length, even that which should the rest redeem,
Their working Instruments. When that was gone,
Their Lease was pawned, if it might be done.
And peradventure, at the last of all,
These things were sold outright for sums but small▪
Or else quite forfeited. For, here were they
Who made of these poor souls, a gainful prey.
And as one Plague had on the li
•
e a power,
So did these other
Plagues,
their goods devour.
When all was gone, afflicted they became
With secret griefs, with poverty, and shame.
And, wanting cheerful minds, and due refection,
Were seized on, the soon
•
, by
Infection:
For, hearts half broke, and households fa
••
isht near▪
Are quickly spent, when visited they are.
The careful
Master,
though it would have saved
A servants life, to get him what he craved,
No kind of Med'cine able was to give him;
Nay scarce with bread and water to relieve him▪
The tender hearted Mother, hath for meat
Oft heard her dearest child, in vain, entreat;
And had or four or five on point of dying
At once, for drink to ease their torment, crying.
The loving husband sitting by her side,
To save whose life he gladly would have died,
Vnable was out of his whole estate,
To purchase her a dram of
Mithridate
;
One mess of Cordial broth, or such like thing,
Although it might prevent her perishing.
Sometime, at such a need, abroad they came,
To ask for help; but, then, the fear of shame,
Of scorn, or of deni
•
ll, them withheld
To put in practice, what their want compel'd.
Upon an Evening (when the wa
•
ning light
Was that which could be called nor day nor night)
I met with one of these, who on me cast
A
•
ut
•
full eye: and a
•
he by me past,
Me thought, I heard him, softly, somewhat say,
As if that he for some relief did pray:
Whereat (he seeming in good cloth
•
s to be)
I staid, and asked him, if he spake to me.
He bashfully replied; that, indeed
He was ashamed to speak aloud, what
Need
Did make him softly mutter▪ Somewhat more
He would have spoken, but his tongu
•
forbore
To tell the re
•
t; b
•
cause his eyes did see
Their tears had (almost) drawn fo
•
th tears frō me,
And that my hand was ready to bestow
That help which my poor fortunes could allow▪
Nor his, nor all me
•
s tongues, coul
•
mo
•
e relate,
Then I myself conceived of hi
•
estate.
Me thou
•
ht, I saw, as if I had been there,
What w
•
nts in his, and such men's houses were;
How empty, and how naked it became▪
How nasty,
Poverty
h
•
d made the same▪
Me thou
•
ht I saw, how sick
•
his wife mightlye;
Me thought I heard his half sta
•
v'd children cry;
Me thou
••
t I felt, with what a broken heart
He looked upon t
•
em, e're he could depart
To try, i
•
(by God's
•
avour) he could meet
With any means of comfort in the street.
And,
Lord my God,
thou knowest, that, when alone
The griefs of such as these, I mused on;
My pity I with watery eye
•
have shown,
And more bewailed their sorrows, then my own▪
But, since those
Dewes
are vain that
•
ruitlesse be;
And since the share that is allotted me▪
Of this worlds heritage, will not
•
uffice
To bring rely
•
e to these men's miseries;
Oh! let my tears (ye
ri
•
h men)
make your ground
With fruits of Charity the more abound.
Let me entreat you, tha
•
, when God shall bring
Upon this place, another
Visiting,
You would remember, some relief to send
To those, who on t
•
eir labors do depend,
And have not got their impudence of
•
ace,
Who idly beg their bread from place to place.
God, you the
S
•
ewards
of his g
•
ods doth make,
And how you use them, he accou
•
t will take.
It will not be enough, that you have paid
The public taxes on your houses laid;
Or that▪ you, now and then, do send a sum
To be disposed, to you know not whom:
But, you yo
•
r selves, must, by yourselves alone,
Those neighbor
•
, o
•
acqu
•
intance think upon,
Who likeliest are in such a time of need,
To want of t
•
at, whe
•
ein you do exceed:
And, if you know of none, inquire them out;
Or leave some honest neighbor thereabout,
To be your
Alm'ner
(when the Town you leave)
That, yo
•
, and they, a
Blessing
may receive▪
For, if that every weal
•
hy man w
•
uld find
But one, or two, to cherish in this kind:
God's wrat
•
would much the better be appeased,
And we should of our plagues be sooner eased
As I request the Richer men to take
This pious course; A suit, I likewise m
•
ke
That our inferior
Tradesmen,
would not so
Abuse their times of profit, as they do.
For, most of those do live at rates as high,
As all their gains (at utmost) will supply.
Yea, many times they mount above t
•
e tops
Of present fortunes, and ensuing hopes:
That, if a sickness, or unlook'd for Cross,
Or want of trade, or any slender loss,
But for a
Yeare,
a
Qu
•
rter,
or a
Terme,
Befalls them: it soon maketh so infirm
Their over-strained Estates; that Alms are need
•
,
Ere any failin
•
s are by others heeded.
Of these, and other things I notions gained,
Whilst in our sickly
City
I remained;
And much I contemplated what I saw,
Some profitable uses thence to draw.
But, feeling that my thought
•
nigh
〈◊〉
were,
With over-musing on those objects there:
I thought to walk abroad into the
••
eld,
To take those comforts, which f
•
esh air doth yield;
And, to revive my heart, which heavy grew,
With what the streets did offer to my view;
But little ease I found; for, there mine eye
•
Discover'd
Sorrow
in a new disguise:
And in so many shapes, himself he shown,
That, still my passion was afresh renewed.
Her
•
, dead upon the
Roade,
a man did lie,
That was (an hour before) as well, as
〈◊〉
▪
There, sat another, who did thither come
In health, but had not strength to bear him home.
Yonn, spraul'd a third, so sick, he did not know
Fro
•
whence he came, nor whither he should go.
A little further off, a fourth did creep
Into a ditch, and there his
Obit
keep.
Abo
•
t the Fields ran one, who being fled
(In spite of his attendance) from his bed,
Lookt like a Lunatique from
Bedlem
broken;
And, though of health he had no hopeful token;
Yet, t
•
at he ailed ought, he would not yield,
Till
Death
had, stru
•
him dead upon the field.
This way, a
Str
•
nger
by hi
•
Host expel
•
ed,
That way, a
Servant
(shut from where he dwelled)
Came weakly stagg'ring fo
•
th, and (crushed beneath
Diseases, and unkindness
•
e) sought for Death;
Which soon was f
••
nd and glad was he, they say,
Who for his
Death-
•
ed
gained a Cock of Hay
At this cross pa
•
h, were
Bearers
fetching home
A Neighbor, who in health did thither come:
Close by, were others digging up the ground,
To hide a stranger whom they dead had found.
Before me, went with Corpses, many a one;
Behind, as many mo did
•
ollow on,
With
runnin
•
sores,
one beg'd at yonder gate:
At next Lanes end, another
Lazar
sat.
Some halted, as if wounded in the wars;
Some held their necks awry, some showed their scars▪
Some, met I weeping, for the loss of friends;
Some others, for their swift approaching ends;
And everything with sorrow was affected,
On whatsoever it was mine eye reflected.
The
Prospect,
which was wont to greet mine eye
With shows of pleasure in variety,
(And looked, as if it cheerfully did smile,
Upon the bordring
Villages,
ere while.)
Had no such pleasingnesse as heretofore,
For every place, a mask of sorrow wore.
The walks are unfrequented, and the path
Late trodden bare, a grassie Carpet hath.
I could not see (of all t
•
ose Gallants) one
That visited
Hide-par
•
e,
and
Mary-borne.
None w
•
ndred through the pastures, up and down▪
But, as about some pe
•
ty Country town:
Nor could I view in many Summers days,
One man of note to ride upon our ways.
Lord, w
•
at a d
•
ff
•
rence did
•
t thou put between
That
Summer,
and the rest that I have seen!
How didst thou change our Fi
•
lds! and what a face
Of Sadness, didst thou set upon each place!
Yet oh! how few remember it, or feel
The touches of it, on their hearts of s
•
eele!
And when our banished
••
i
•
h thou didst renew,
Who did return to thee the praises due?
What others apprehended, they know best;
But if it could be fully here exp
•
e
••
What of that alteration I conceived▪
When of their pleasures, God our fields bereaved;
It would much mo
•
e be minded: For they had
Nought in them, but what moved to be sad.
Not many weeks, before, it was not so.
But,
•
leasures,
had their passage to and fro.
Which way so
•
ver from our Gates I went,
I lately did behold with much content,
The fields bestrow'd with people all about:
Some paceing homeward,
•
nd some passing out.
Some, by the bancks of
•
hame
their pleasure taking;
Some, Sulli-bibs, among the Milk-maids, making;
With music, some upon the waters, rowing;
Some, to t
•
e next adjoining
Hamlets
going;
And
Hogsdone, Islington,
and
Tethnam-Court,
For Cakes and Creame▪ had then no small resort.
Some, sat and wooed their Love
•
s in the shadows;
Some, straggled to and fro athwart the meadowes;
Some, in discourse, their hours, away did pass;
Some, played the toyish w
•
ntons on the grass;
Some, of Religion; some of bus'nesse talked;
Some coached were▪ some horsed; and some walked.
Here Citizens; there Students, many a one;
Here
•
woe together; and, yonn one alone.
Of
Nymphs
and
Ladies.
I have often ey'd
A thousand walking at one Evening tide;
As many Gentleman: and young and old
Of meaner sort, as many▪ ten times told.
And, when I did from some high Tower survey
The Rod
•
s, and Paths, which round below me lay,
Obser
•
ing how each passage thronged was
W
••
h men and Cattle, which both ways did pass;
How many petty path
•
, both far and near,
With rouse of people sti
•
l suppl
•
ed were;
What infinite provision still came in,
And what abundance hath exported been;
Me thought this populous
City
and the trade
Which we from every Coast about her had,
Was well resembled by an
A
•
t-h
•
ll,
which
(In some old Forest) is made lar
•
e, and
•
ich
By those laborious creatures, who have thither
Brought all their wealth, and
Coloni
•
s
together.
For, as their peopled
Borrough
ha
•
h resort
From every quarter, by a several Port,
And from each Gate thereof a great Rode hath
That branches into many a little Path;
And, as those
Negroes
do not on
•
lie fill
Each great and lesser t
•
act unto th
•
ir hill,
But, also, spread them
•
elves out of those ways,
Among the grass, the leaves, and bushy sprayes:
Even s
•
,
•
he people here, did come and go
Through our large Rodes; disperse themselves into
A thousand passages; and, often stray
O're neighbouring Pastures, in a pathlesse way.
This, formerly I saw; and, on that
Station,
Where this I marked; I had this
Contemplation.
How happy were this
People,
did they know
What rest, our God upon them did bestow!
On us, what show
•
es of blessings hath he rained,
Which he from other Cities hath restrained?
And, from how many mischiefs hath be freed us▪
Which
•
all on those that in good works exceed us▪
Here lurk no ravenous Beasts to make a prey
On those fat C
•
ttell which these Fields over-lay.
Within our Gro
•
es no cruel
Out-laws
hide,
That in the blood of passengers are died.
Our
Lambs,
unworry'd, lie abroad, benighted;
By day, our
Virgins
walk the Fields unfrighted.
No neighbouring Country doth our food forestall;
No
Convoyes
need to come and g
•
e withal;
No foreign Prince can sudd
••
lie appall us,
For Seas do mote us, and huge Rocks do wall us.
No rotten Fennes do make our air unsound;
No Foe, doth with a trench enclose us round.
We neither tumults have by night or d
•
y,
Nor rude unruly
Garrisons
in pay.
No Taxes, yet, our Land doth over-load:
Our Children are not pressed for wars abroad.
From Spanish
Inquisitions
we ar
•
free;
(God grant that we, forever, so may be)
We are compelled to no Idolatries;
Our people do not in rebellions rise:
No sactious spirits much disturb the
State
;
No
Plagues,
our dwellings, yet, dep
•
pulate.
No Rots or Murraines have our Cattle killed:
Our Barns and Store-house
•
, with fruits are filled:
On ev'r
•
thr
•
sh
•
ld, store o
•
children play;
Our breeding Cattle fill both street and way.
And, were we thankful unto him that gave them,
There are no blessings, but we here might have them.
See, how like
Bees
upon a Summer-Eve,
(When their young
Nymphes
have ove
•
-filled the hive)
They swarm about the
City,
sporting so,
As if a winter gale would never blow.
How little d
•
e they dream, how many times,
While
•
hey deserved ruin for their Crimes,
God, naitheless
•
, hath shown mercies on them,
And s
•
opt those
Plagues
that coming were upon them!
How seldom is it thought, the power of him,
•
hose love they much forg
•
t (if not contemn)
Might heap upon t
•
em all t
•
ose fea
•
full things,
Which he upon our neig
•
bouring Nations brings.
For, in a moment, he could s
•
mmon hither
His
Judgments,
and inflict them, all together.
Even all. B
•
t, one of those which he hath brought
On other Cities, would enough be thought.
If in displeas
•
re
•
e should call from thence
Where now it r
•
ves, the slaugh
•
ring
Pest
•
lence,
Or else the
Famine
▪ what a change
•
ere that,
To them that are so healthy,
•
nd so fat?
How desolate, in less t
•
en half a year,
Might all our lodgin
•
s and o
•
r streets appear?
How unfrequented would that randevow
Be m
•
de, in which, we throng, and just
•
e now?
How lonely would these walk
•
s and fi
•
lds be found,
Wherein I s
•
e the people s
•
abound?
Or, should
•
e w
•
istle for his armed Bands,
(Which now are wasting
•
there Christian Lands)
To put in action on our Commick Stage
The Tragedies of
War,
and bru
••
sh rage:
What lamentations then here would be made,
And calling unto mind, what peace we had?
Should we in every house▪ at board and bed
Have So
•
ldiers and rude Captains bille
•
ed,
That would command, and swagger as if they
Had all the Towneship (where they lodge) in pay,
To w
•
it upon their pleas
•
res; and should see
Our own defenders, our devourers be.
Should we behold these Fields (now full of sport)
Cut out with
T
•
enches;
there, a warlike
Fort
;
Another here; A
Sconce
not far from that;
A new raised
Mount,
or some fire-spitting
Cat,
From which the Foes our actions might survey,
And ma
•
e their B
•
llets on our houses play.
Should we behold our Dwellings beaten down;
Our Temples battered; Turrets over thrown;
Our seats of pleasure b
•
rning from afar;
Hear, from without, the thundering voice of
War
▪
Within, the shriekes of children, or the cry
Of women, struck with fears, or famished nigh.
Should we behold, what painfully we got,
Possest by those that seek to cut our thr
•
at;
Our children slain before
•
us, on the ground;
Our selves piercit through with some deep mortal wound;
And see (
•
v'n there) where we have wantonniz'd,
Our beau
•
eous wives, by some stern Troup surprised,
And ravished in our view. Or (which is worse)
When we have seen all this, be forced perforce
To live; and live their slaves that shall possess
Our wives, and all our ou
•
ward happiness;
And, then, want also, that pure
Word of Grace
To comfort us, which yet adorns this place.
Should such a Destiny (as God d
•
fend)
This people, and this place,
thought I,
attend.
(For, this may be; and every day we hear
That other Nations do this burden b
•
are)
Should we who now for pleasure walk the field,
Be saine to search what weeds the pastures yield
To feed us; and peake hungerly about,
Some Roots, or Hawes, or Berries to find out,
To keep from starving; and not gain a food
So mean, without the hazard of our blood:
Should some contagious sickness, nois
•
me make
This place, wherein, such pleas
•
re now we take:
Should in these places, whither we repair
Our bodies to refresh with wholesome air,
Those blastings or
Serenes
upon us fall,
Which other places are annoy'd withal.
Should from the wife the husband be divorc'd,
Or from the parent should the child be forced,
While here they walk
•
, and perish by the sword:
Or, should here be a famine of the
Word,
On which would follow, to our grief and shame,
A thousand other
Plagues
which I could name.
Should th
•
se things be; then w
•
at our blessings are
It would by such a curse too soon appear.
Then, fe
•
le we should, what comforts might arise
From those great mercy
•
, which we now despise,
Or think not on. Yea, so we might enjoy
But part of that which now we mis-employ,
We thi
•
ke it would, a greater happiness,
Then, yet we find in all we now possess.
We then should know how much we have b
•
ene blest
In our long time of plenty▪ health, and rest:
How sweet it is that we may to and fro
Without restraint, or fear, or danger go;
How much we owe to him that hath so long
Our Granards filled, and our Gates made strong;
Permitting us to walk for our delight
About our fields, whilst others march to fight;
And s
•
ffring us to least, whilst others fast,
Or, of the bread of sour
Affliction
taste.
As heretofore the peopled
Fields
I walked,
To this effect, my thoughts within me talked;
And though all present
Objects
gave cont
•
nt,
My heart did such
Ideaes
represent
Of
Judgments
likely to be cast upon
So great a City, and a sinful one;
That much I feared, I should live to see,
Some such afflictions, as here mentioned be.
And loe, (though yet, I hope, not in his wrath)
God, part of that I feared, inflicted hath:
A warning
War
he hath begun to wage
Against the crying sins of this our age,
And of this place: And in a gentle wise
Pour'd out a taste of those Calamities
Which other feel at large: that, we should mourn
•
For our transgressions, and to him retu
•
ne.
Vouchsafe, oh! God, that soon return we may,
Lest thou, in anger, sweep us all away.
If we observed, well, what God hath done,
And in what manner, he with us begun;
How he forewarned us of those
Plagues,
which he
Vouchsafed
David
should a chus
•
r be:
(And how, even he himself, in mercy chose,
To keep us from what
David
had refused)
We should perceive, that our most loving God
At first did threaten, with a
Fathers
rod.
A little while before this
Pestilence,
Of his just wrath we had in
•
elligence
By divers tokens▪ which we did contemn,
O
•
, at the best, but little heeded them.
The
Spring
before this
Plague,
one jerke we had
By
WAR,
which made no little number sad,
By calling many from their ease; by taking
Some husbands from their wives, & childless making
Some
Parents
: which permitted was to show us
In part, what sha
•
pe corrections God did owe us.
And make us mind, that this unhallow'd place
Is thus long spared merely of his grace.
Else, to awake us with some touch of that
Which he hath brought on many a foreign State.
For, that he might but touch us, he did call
No
Armies
hither, to affl
•
ct us all.
But, as a
General
in time of war,
When all his Troupes of somewhat guilty are;
On them the fo
•
tune of the
lot
doth try,
That some as warnings to the rest may die:
Even so, the
God of Armies,
in like case,
Pickt, here and there a man, f
•
om every place,
To meet the sword: that, every place might learn,
His
Mercies,
and his
Justice
to discern,
And, leave off sin; which, if we break not from,
His
Plague
•
,
and terrors all, w
•
ll shortly come.
If any shall object, we lost in these
But some corrupted blood, which did disease
The common
Body:
Let them under
•
tand,
That it portends hot
Fevers
in the Land,
When suc
•
Phl
•
botomy
is needful thought:
And, that, good blood, as well as what is naught,
Is lost at every op
•
ni
•
g of a vein.
The foot was pricked, and we did feel no pain;
The next blood letting may be in the
Arm,
Where lies our s
•
rength▪ God shend us frō the harm
Of such like
Surgery
; unless we see
The
Sign
be better then it seems to be.
God scared us, lately, also, by a
Dearth,
And for the people's faults did curse the Earth.
The
Winter
last before the
Pes
•
began,
Throughout some No
••
herne
Shires
a Famine ran,
That starved some; and other some were fain,
Their hungry appetites to entertain
With swine, and sheep, and horses, which have died
By chance: For, better coul
•
they not provide.
Some others on boiled nettles gladly fed,
Or else had oft gone supperlesse to bed.
And this was much, considering the soil
And o
•
dinary plenties of this
I will.
Nay, since the
Si
•
knesse,
we small hope
•
p
•
ssessed,
Of
•
hat, wherewith, this Ki
•
g
•
om, God hath blessed.
For, when
Earths
womb did big with plenty grow,
When her large bosom, and full breasts, did show
Such sign
•
of fair increase, that hope of more
Was never in our life-times, heretofore:
A later frost, our early blossoms cropped;
The heavens, upon our labor
•
, leanness dropt;
An
•
such perpetu
•
ll showers, and floods we had,
That o
•
a
Famine,
we were fearful made,
And scarce had any hope (in common reason)
Of harvest either in, or out of season.
Yet, he wi
•
h-held that
Plague.
The Sky grew clear;
A kindly weather drove away our f
•
are;
The Floods did sink; the Mildewes were expel'd;
The bending ears of
•
orne, their heads up held;
And
Harvest
came, which filled our Granards more,
Then in the fruitful'st, of sev'n years before.
And, doubtless▪ had we gone to meet our God,
Wi
••
true repentance, when this fearful Rod
Was raised first; it had away be
•
ne flung,
And not continued in this
Realm
so long.
For, as a
Fath
•
r,
when his dearest chil
•
Growes disobedient, rude, and over-wild,
•
irst warns; th
•
n threatens; then, the rod doth show;
T
•
en frowns; and then doth fear him with a blow.
Th
••
doubles, and redoubles it, until
He makes him grow more pliant to his will,
And leave those wanton tricks, which in conclusion
May prove th
•
p
•
rents g
•
iefe, and childes confusion.
Even as this Father; so, our God h
•
th wrought.
Vs, by his
Word of Grace,
he first besought:
T
•
en▪ of his
Wrath,
and
Justice
spake unto us:
Next, hanging over u
•
, he plagues did show us.
Yea, divers months before this Vengeance came,
The spotted
Fever
did forewarn the same.
Was made her
Harbenger
; and in one week
Sent hu
•
dreds, in the Grave, their bed to seek.
Which naught prevailing, he did thereupon
(As being loath to strike) first strike but one.
Then, two or three: then slaid a while; and than
To smi
•
e ano
•
her number he began,
And then a greater. Neither did God show
This mercy, only, in the public blow;
But daign'd it, also, in that chastisement,
Which he to every man in private sent.
To hasten his repent
•
nce; first, he smote
Some one of those he knew, in place remote;
Wi
•
hin a w
•
eke, another better known;
Next week a friend; the next a dearer-one;
A lit
•
le after that, perhaps, an
•
there;
And then a kinsman, or
•
n only brother.
Which no a
•
endm
•
nt working, God did come
(To make him heedful) somewhat nearer home:
Knockt at h
•
s neighbors house, and took out all
Or most, who lodged on tother side the wall:
Then called at his door, and seized on
A servant fi
•
st; soon afterward, a son;
Next night wa
•
hazarded a daughters life;
And e're that morning c
•
me, he lost his wife:
At last fell sick himself, and then repented,
Or died, or liveth to be worse tormented.
Thus, as it were by steps, God came upon us,
That either Love or Terror migh
•
have won us,
To seek our peace. But, yet, so
•
ew were warned,
(And this long suffering, so few souls discerned)
That some the nature of this
Plague
beli'd;
The number of the dead, some
•
strove to hide.
On groundless hopes,
•
ods Iudgmē
•
s, some deferred.
Some scofted others, when they were deterred.
Some raised a profit from it. Yea, so few
Conceived what was likely to ensue;
That, when we should like
Nineveh
have fared,
For sports, and causeless
Triumphs
we prepared▪
Of pleasure, in
•
xcessive wise, we
•
asted.
We
feasted,
when we rather should have
f
•
stead.
And when in sack-cloth we should loud have cried,
Even then, we ruffled in our greatest pride.
Which God
••
rceiving, and that we were grown
Regardlesse of his smiles, and of his frown;
He did comm
•
n
•
his
Mercy,
to let go
That hand, which did restrain his
Justice
so.
Then, catching up a
Vial
of his wrath,
(W
•
ich he in store for such offenders hath)
He did on thi
•
our City, pour it down.
And, as strong poison shed upon the crown,
Descendeth to the members, from the head;
And, soon, doth over all the body spread:
Even so, this noisome plague of
Pestilence,
On our head City Falling, did from thence,
Disperse, and soake throughout this
Emp
•
ry,
In spite of all our carnal polici
•
.
Our want of penitency, to allay
God's wrath, and stop his anger in the way,
Enflamed and exasperated so
This
F
•
end,
that he did thousands over-throw
In
•
ome few minuts: and▪ the greedy
Grave
Devou'd, as if it none alive would save.
Death
lurkt at every angle of the s
•
eet,
And did a
•
rest whom ever he did meet.
There scarcely was that house or lodging found,
In which he did not either slay or wound.
In every room his murders acted he,
Our Close
•
s nay our Temples were not free
From his attemptings; no not while men prayed,
Could his unb
•
idled fury be delayed.
In sundry
Families
the
•
e was not one
Whom his rude hand did take compassion on:
Nay many times he did not spare the last,
Until the burial of the first was past.
For, e're the
Bearers
back again could come,
The rest were r
•
ady
•
or their graves at home.
Nor bad nor good, nor rich nor poor did scape him,
Nor fool nor w
•
seman, an excuse could shape him:
He shunned not the yo
•
g man in the sadle,
Nor him that lay and cried in the cradle.
So dreadful was his look, so stern and grim,
That many died through very fear of him.
For, to men's fancies he did oft ap
•
ea
•
e
In shapes which so exceedi
•
d gastly were,
That flesh and blood, unable was, to brook,
The horror of his all a
••
righting look.
Even in that house, whose roof did cover me,
Of this, a sad
•
xperiment had we:
For, there, a plague-sick
•
man (at least) conceived
That Death a shape assuming, he perceived
Deform'd and ugly; where at lou
•
he cries,
Oh! hi
•
e me, hide me,
•
rom his dreadful ey
•
s.
Look, oh! look there he comes: now by the
•
ed
He stands; now at the f
••
t; now at the head.
Oh! draw, draw, draw the Curtain, Si
•
s I pray,
That his grim loo
•
e no more b
•
hold I may.
To this
•
ffect, and such like woe
•
ds he spake,
But that their he
•
ers hearts they more did sh
••
e.
Then, rested he a while, and by and by
Up starting, with a lamentable cry,
Ran to a Couch, whereon his wife (w
•
o waking
Two nights b
•
fore had been) some
•
est was taking;
There, kneeling down, & both his hands up rearing,
As if his eye had seen pale
Death
appearing
To st
•
ike his wife;
Good Sir,
said he,
forbear
To kill or h
•
m
•
that poor young woman there:
For God's sake do not strike her; for you s
•
e
She's great w
•
th child. Lo, you have wounded me
In twenty places; and I do not c
•
re
How me you mischi
•
fe, so that her you spare.
Even this, and more then I to mind can call,
He acted with a look so tragic
•
ll,
Tha
•
, all by standers▪ might have
•
hou
•
ht▪ his eyes
Saw real objects, and no fantasies.
To others, Death, no doubt, himself convaid
In other forms; and other
Pageants
plaid.
Whilst in her arms the mother thought she kept
Her Infant saf
•
; Death stole him when she slept.
Sometime he took the mothers life away,
And left the little babe, to lie and play
With her cold paps, and childish game to make
About those eyes, that never mo
•
e shall wake.
Som
•
times whē friends were talking, he did force
The one to leave unfinisht his discourse.
Sometimes, their morning meetings he hath thwarted,
Who thought not they forever had been parted,
The night before. And, many a lovely
Bride,
He hath deflowered by the
Bridegroom's
side.
At every hand, lay one or other dying;
On every part, were men and women crying,
One for a husband; for a friend another;
One for a sister, wife, or only brother:
Some children for their parents mone were making▪
Some, for the loss of servants care were taking;
Some parents for a child; and some again
•
or loss of all their children did complain.
The mother dared not to close her eyes,
Through fear that while she sleeps, her baby dies.
Wives trusted not t
•
eir husbands out of door,
Lest they might back again return no more.
And in their absence if they did but hear
One knock or call in hast, they quak'd through fear,
That some unluckly messenger had brought
The news of those mis
•
hances they forethought.
And if (with care and grief over-tyr'd) they slept,
They dreamed of
Ghosts,
&
Graves,
& sh
•
iekt, & wept.
He that over night went healthy to his b
•
d,
Lookt▪ e're the morning, to be sick, or dead.
He that rose Iusty, at the rising Sun,
Grew faint, and breathless, e're the day was done
And, he that for his friend, this day did sorrow,
Lay close besid
•
him in a grave the morrow.
Some men amidst their pleasures were diseased▪
Some, in the very act of sin were seized:
Some, hence were taken laughing, and some singing:
Some, as they others to their graves were bringing,
Yea, so impartial was this kind of
Death,
And so extremely venomous his breath,
That they who did not in this place expire,
Where saved, like the
Children in the fire
▪
It may be that to some it will appear,
My Muse hath only poetized here;
And that I fa
•
n'd expressions do rehearse,
As most of those that use to wri
•
e in verse:
But, in this Poem I pursue the story
Of real Truth, without an Allegory:
And many yet surviving witness may,
That I come short of what I more might say.
But, what I can I utter; and I touch
This mournful string, so often, and so much,
As in this Book I do; that I might show
To them that of these griefs forg
••
full gro
•
,
What sorrows and what dangers
•
hey have had;
That all of us more thankful may be made:
And if to any these things do appear
Or tedious, or impertine
•
t; I fear
That most of them are they, who take no pleasure,
For good and useful things to be at l
•
isure.
And more delight in
Poems
worded out,
Th
••
those that are God's works employed about.
Me thinks, I cannot speak enough of that
Which I have seen; nor full enough relate
What I declare; but
〈◊〉
it seems to me
I leave out somewhat that should utt'red be.
For, though in most, the sense thereof be gone,
It was God's
Judgment,
and a fearful one.
And,
LONDON,
what availed then thy pride,
Thy pleasures, and thy wealth so multiplied?
Or, then, oh! what advantage didst thou get
By those vain thi
•
gs, whereon thy heart is set?
How many sev'rall
Plagues
did God prevent,
Befo
•
e this Judgment was upon thee sent?
How many loving
•
avours had he done thee,
Before so roughly he did seize upon thee?
And, that thou mightest his purposes discover,
How long togethe
•
, did he send thee over
The weekly news, of those great Desolations,
Which he infl
•
cts on many ot
•
er Nations?
How often did he send, e're this befell,
His
Prophets,
of his
Judgments
•
o foretell?
How many thousand
Preac
•
ers
hath he sent,
With tears, to pray, and woo thee
•
o repent?
To
•
ell t
•
ee, that thy pride, and thy exc
•
sse,
Thy lusts, thy surfeits, and thy drunkenness,
Thine idleness, thy great impieties,
Thy much profaneness
•
e, thy hypocrifies,
And other vanities, would bring at last
Those pl
•
gues where
•
of thou now some feeling hast▪
How did thy
Pastors
to repent conjure thee?
How st
•
ongly did God's Ministers assure thee
That all thy love, thy labor, and thy cost
Besto
•
'd on carnal pleasures, would be lost?
That, t
•
ou hereafter
•
houldst become ashamed
Of that whereof thy comforts thou hadst framed;
And that those evils would at length befall
From which no mortal hand reprieve thee shall.
'Thou canst not but acknowledge these things were
Even every moment, rounded in thine care;
And that thy
Sons of Thunder
did presage
What, for thy sins, should be thine heritage.
Yet, thou to hear their message didst refuse.
And, as the stubborn unbelieving
Jews,
Despised all those
Prophets,
who foreshow'd
The times of their approaching servitude,
Yea, punished them, as troublers of the Land,
And such as weakened much the people's hand:
So, thou accountedst of thy Teachers, then,
But as a crew of busy-headed men,
Who causelessly, thy quietness distu
•
bing,
Had for their saucinesse, deserved curbing.
But with amazement, now thou dost behold,
That they have no uncertainties foretold.
For, God in this one single
Plague,
comprised
Those other
Judgments,
all, epitomized;
Which for thy ruin he at large will send,
If this be not enough to work his end.
Observe this
Pestilence,
and thou shalt see,
That as there may be someone
sin
in thee
With other great
Transgressions
interlaced,
So, divers Plagues in this great
Plague
were placed,
It showed thee (in some fashion) their dist
•
esses,
Whom
WAR,
in a besieged Fort oppresses:
For, lo, thou wert deprived of all Trade,
As if t
•
y Foes blocked up thy
River
had.
And, though no armed Host thy wall surrounded,
Yet (which was worse) thou by thy friends wert bounded:
For, wha
•
soever person passed f
•
om
Thy Ports, upon an enemy did come.
And none more cruel to thy children proved,
Then some of thine, who from thy
Pl
•
gues
removed.
Confusion,
and
D
•
sorder,
threatn
•
d thee,
(On which attendeth all the
Pl
•
gues
that be)
For, most of thy grave
Senate,
who did bear
Thy names of office, far departed were,
To other places; leaving thee, nigh spent
And languishing for want of Government.
Yea, they that were thy
Trust,
and thy
Deligh
•
,
In times of health, did then
•
orsake thee quite;
To teach us, that those men, and vanities,
Which have our hearts, in our prosperities,
Will in affliction be the first who leave us;
And, when we most expect, then most deceive us.
Oh! whither then; oh! whither were they gone,
Who, thy admired Beauty doted on?
Where did thy
Lovers
in those days appear,
Who did so court thee, and so often swear
Affection to thee? whither were they fled,
Whom thou hast oft with sweetest junkets fed?
And they, whom thou so many years, at ease,
Didst lodge within thy fairest
Pal
•
ces?
Where
London,
were thy scarlet
Fathers
hou
•
'd,
Who in thy glory, were to thee espous'd?
What were become of all thy children, whi
•
h
W
•
re nursed at thy breast, made great, and rich
By thy
good-huswifry?
and whom we see
In thy prosperity so hug'd of thee?
Where were thy rev'r
•
nd
Pastors,
who had pay
To feed thy Flocks, and for thy sin to p
•
ay?
(I must confess) the meanest, and some few
Of better sort, were in affection true,
And gave thee comfort. But, oh! where were those,
Those greater ones, on whom thy hand bestows
The largest portions? Those, who have professed
A zealous care of thee, above the rest?
Those, who (as I conceive) had undertaken
A charge that should not then have been forsaken?
Those many
silken-Doctors,
who did here
In shining satten Casso
•
ks late appear?
They who (till now, a thing scarce heard of ever)
Do flaunt it in their Velv
••
, Plush, and Beaver.
And they, whom thou didst honor far above
Those mean ones, who, then, shown thee most love?
Where were they? &, where were thy Lawyers too
That he
•
etofore, did make so much ado
Within thy Courts of
Justice?
Pre
•
he, where
Were those
Physicians,
who so forward were
To give thee physic, when thou neededst l
•
sse,
And wert but sick, of ease, and wantonness?
Where did their foot-cloth
•
wait? whe
•
e couldst thou call
For their assistance? what became of all
Their
Diets,
and
Receipts?
and why did they
In that necessity depart away?
Where lurckt those
Poe
•
asters,
who were wont
To pen thy
Mummeries,
and vainly hunt
For base reward, by soothing up the Crimes
Of our Grand
Epicures,
in lofty Rimes;
And do before each others
Poems
raise
The huitlesse Trophies of a truthlesse praise?
Da
•
'd none of all those matchless wits to tarry
This b
•
unt? That his experienced Muse might carry
This News to after times; and move compassion,
By his all-moving strains of
Lamentation?
What, none bu
•
me? me only leave they to it,
To whom they s
•
ame to yield the Name of
Poet?
Well▪ if they ever had a mind to wear
The
Lawreat Wre
•
th,
they might have got it
•
ere:
For though that my performance may be bad,
A braver Subject,
Muses
never had.
Where were thy t
•
oups of
Ro
•
ers?
where were they
Who in thy Chambers did t
•
e wantons play?
Provoking God Almighty, down
•
to cast
Those plagues from which they fled away so fast?
Yea, wh
•
there were though
•
e
Nothings,
all retired,
Of whom thou wer
•
, of late, so much desired?
Alas! was there not any of all these
Who staid to comfort thee, in this Disease?
Did all depart away? And, being gone,
Leave thee to bear thy sorrows all alone?
Left they upon thy
Tally
all that sin,
Which had by them and thee, committed been?
Yes, yes, they left thee: even all
•
hese: and they
So left thee,
London,
when they went away,
That thy afflictions they did aggravate,
And make more bitter thy deplored
Fat
•
.
A
Dearth
mixed also in this
P
•
st
was found,
For they who did in riches most abound,
(And should have holpen to relieve the poor)
Departing hence, diminished thy store.
To other
Borroughes
they themselves betook:
Their sick distressed brethren, they fo
•
sook
•
,
And, lest on those th
•
t would be hospitable,
A b
•
rthen which to bear they were unable.
Those few, of worth, who did in thee remain,
Had multitudes of beggars to sustain;
And, from the Country (as before I said)
The sending of supply was long delaid.
There was a
Famine
also, which exceeded
This other; though the same by few was heeded.
We had not so much scarcity of bread,
As of that food wherewith our souls are fed.
For, of our
Pastors
(in the greatest dangers)
Som
•
left us to the charity of Strangers.
And, many souls, whom they were bound to cherish
Depriv'd of timely sustenance, did perish.
Who could have thought, this
Vineyard,
heretofore
So fruitful; and wherein the salvage
Bore
Of
Turkey
rooted not: and whose thick fence
Hath long time kept, the
Bulls
of
Bashan
thence;
Should then (even in the
Vintage
t
•
me) be found
So bare of what, so lately did abound?
And, then (a thing worth note) when every Field
And meanest
Villages
did plenties yield?
Indeed, not long before, we surfeited,
And plaid the wantons with our heavenly bread.
Our appetite was cloy'd; and we grew dainty,
And either loathed, or murmur'd at our plenty.
Yea, many of us, when at will we had it,
By private
Cookeries,
unwholesome made it.
For which, and for our base unthankfulness,
Our portion and allowance waxed less:
And, we who (like fond children) would not eat,
Unless, this man, or that man carv'd our meat,
Then (like poor folks, that of mere alms do live)
Were glad to take of any that would give▪
The
Laborers
were few; the
Harvest
large:
And of the best of those that had the ch
•
rge
To sp
•
ead God
•
•
able
▪ so
•
e g
•
ew faint and tired
By th
•
i
•
perpetu
•
ll trav
•
ile: some expired
Their p
•
infull soul
•
s, and freely sacrifiz'd
Thems
•
lves for us, t
•
at we might be suffiz'd.
Among which
•
ap
•
y number I do
•
less
The memory of learned
Mak
•
r
••
sse,
And zealous
Eton,
who
•
e l
•
rge
••
ng
••
g
•
tions,
Bemoan'd their loss with h
•
a
•
ty l
•
me
••
ations.
And worthily: for,
•
hey di
•
labor here
Wi
•
h cheerfuln
•
sse and in their
C
•
lli
•
gs
were
So truly diligent w
•
i
•
st vigor lasted,
That they then li
•
e blood, yea
•
hei
•
spi
•
its wasted;
And even unslackt the very ne
•
ves and pours
Of their own souls, to help enable ou
•
s.
To
bury,
nigh a hundred in a day,
To
church,
to
•
arry, study, preach
and
pray
;
To
make b
•
times;
at ni
•
h
•
late watch to keep
;
To be
distu
•
b'd
at midnight from their
sleep
;
To
visit
him that on his
death-bed
lies;
Oft to
communicate
; more oft
baptize
;
And daily (and all day) to be in action,
As were those two, to give due satisfaction
To their great
Flocks
; mo
•
e Laborers there needed;
And their consumed strengths, it much exceeded.
But they are now at
re
••
:
their
w
•
ke
is done,
Their
Fight
is finished: th
•
i
•
G
•
ale
is won:
And, though no
Troph
•
e
I to them can raise,
Save, this poor withe
•
'd
Wreath
of mortal praise;
Their
Master
(to reward their faithfulness)
For them rese
•
ved Crowns of Happiness;
Because, unto his
household,
they the
Bread
Of life,
in season, have distribute
•
.
Nor was the
•
ood of life diminished more
By such men's want alone, then heretofore.
But, to our discontent, we also had
Our d
•
e allowances the sho
•
ter made
Even by command. Fo
•
, some (I know not why)
Had
•
alsely mis in
•
orm'd
Autho
•
ity,
That o
•
r promiscu
•
us meetings, at the
Fast,
Increast the
Plague
: which wa
•
believed in hast.
And being urged, pe
•
haps, with such fane show
•
Of
Reason,
as
•
onj
•
cture
cou
•
d in
•
u
•
e;
(The matt
•
r
•
ei
•
g aggrav
•
ted too,
With suc
•
•
ntruth
•
, as t
•
ave
•
l to and fro)
The public p
•
eaching on the
Fasting day,
Was, in an evil season, took awe
•
y.
For, when the flesh was fed, and soul deprived
Of two Repasts, whi
•
h weekly we received,
Prophanenesse, and hard-he
•
tednesse began
To get new rooting in the mind of man.
We miss
••
those good helps, and those examples
Which had been prea
•
hed to us in our Temples.
The poor did want full qui
•
kly, to their grief,
Those Alms the
Fast
b
•
ought out for their relief.
And, when with
Prayers, Preaching
did not go,
Our cold
Devotions,
did far colder grow.
What instrument of mischief might he be
Who caused that? And, what a
•
oole was he!
If
Wensday-Sermons
helped infect; I pray
What kept us safer on the
Sabbath day?
Since most fast then till noon without refection?
Or, what at
Funerals,
did stop infection?
Good God! in thy affai
•
es, how vain (to me)
Doth carnal
Policy
appear to be?
How apt is flesh and blood to run a course,
Which makes the souls condition, worse and woe
•
se?
To vent
•
re on eternal death how toward!
And in a temporal danger what a cowa
•
d!
Su
•
e, had not such a
•
roject, had a scope
Beyond the reaching of the
D
•
vils
hope,
And be
•
n too damnable for any on
•
To be his
Procurator
thereupon;
Some w
••
l
•
have made the motion that we might
Have lived
•
xclu
•
ed from our
Churches
quite:
And, that
•
ill
•
od his hand should please
•
o stay,
None
•
hold in publ
•
ke, either preach, or pray.
'Twa
•
well the weekly number of the dead,
By God's mere m
•
rcy, was diminished,
Before t
•
e prohibition of the
Fast
:
The
Fi
•
nd
had else
•
, for evermore, di
•
g
•
acit
That
Discipline:
and carnal
Pol
•
cy
H
•
d so insulted over
Divinity,
That, in succeeding Ages, men unholy,
Would thence have proved, such Devotion, Folly.
But, God prevented it, that we should take
Go
•
d n
•
tice of it; and good uses make:
And I have mentioned it, that here I may
God's
Wis
•
dome
and Man's foolishness display.
Oh▪ let us to our
Fasts
again return;
Let us, for our omissions truly mourn;
And not capitulate with God, as though
He, first his Rod out of his hand should throw,
He
•
e we would come unto him: for, if thus
A son of ou
•
s should bear himself to us,
It would our
•
ire exasperate the more;
And make the fault seem greater then before.
Why should we in an action that is just
The mercy of our gracious God distrust?
Or, unto any place be loath to go,
Where God is to be heard, or spoken to,
Through fear of that which may be caught at home
And in a thousand places where we come?
Our sins and plagues were public: so should we
In
Pray'rs,
and
Tears,
and
Alms,
and
Fastings
be.
•
or, that s
•
rong
D
•
vill
which hath tortured thus
Our general body, is not cast from us
By single
Ex
•
rcismos:
neither
•
hall
Our p
•
iv
•
cies advantage us at all,
Except in what conduces to the health
Of private men, or of their private weal
•
h.
If we in close retirements (by our fear)
At ma
•
kets, or where worse Assemblies are,
Infected grow: the
Devil,
by and by
With us persuadeth, either to bely
The
Church,
our constant
Fasting,
or someone
Good woe
•
ke, or pious action we have done.
(As visiting the sick, in ti
•
e of need,
Or any other such like Christian deed)
For, he those practices doth greatly spite,
And, to disparage them hath much delight:
Because he sees, that such as are inclinde
To pious means, will soon by trial find,
Good hopes to thrive beyond their expectations;
Their knowledge, fool his cunning machinations;
Their faiths grow strong; temptations weak appear;
Their joy most perfect, where most sorrows are;
And know, that when the
Lord of Hosts
is armed,
With all his
Judgments,
that, he least is harmed,
Who, bold through
Love, self-trust
quite f
•
om him throws
And, runs with confidence to meet his blows.
Let no man then be fearful to repair
•
Unto the house of
Preaching,
or of
Prayer
;
Or, any whither else, those works to do,
Which he by Conscience is obliged to:
No, though the Devil in the passage lay,
Or strow'd most
•
earfull dangers in the way.
For, if in such a case, our death we t
•
ke,
Our death, shall for our best advantage
•
ache.
Yet, let none think I this opinion carry,
That every
Church,
will be a
Sanct
•
a
•
y,
To all
•
hat come For, sure, if any dare
Without
Devotion
▪ in God's house appear,
To them, that pl
•
ce, more pe
•
ill threaten
•
, then,
A chamber thronged with infected men.
Some fainted in the
Church,
as others did
Within their houses (where themselves they hid)
Yet not so o
•
ten. For▪ though some did please
To blame the
Church
for spreading this disease,
No places were more harmless. None did we
Beh
•
ld more healthy, or to sc
•
pe more free
From this
Infection,
then those persons, whom
We saw most often, to God's worship come.
Nor were there any houses more infected
Then theirs, who most th
•
house
•
of God neglected.
I spe
•
ke not this by rumor: For, even thither
Resorted I, where thronged were together
The greatest multitudes: And day by day
I sat▪ where all the crowd I could survey.
Yet, I nor man, nor child, nor woman saw,
To finke, look pal
•
, or from their place withdraw▪
And, d
•
ubtlesse, if such faintings there had been,
As many prated of; I some had seen.
Which, since I did not see, I wish ag
•
ine,
None would at such a time, God's house refrain,
Except in Congregations not their own,
And w
•
ere in
•
ection feared is, or known:
Or in their own Assembly, where disorder
Committed willfully, the Pest may further.
Or, when their body's weak
•
ne
•
, or the Air
Their
•
afet
•
es may
•
ome other wa
•
es impair.
Excepting to (
•
n
•
imes of
Visitation,
When they a
•
e ma
•
kt with ma
•
kes of
Separation,
As
Rising, Bl
••
es,
or
So
•
es.
O, newly f
•
om
The
••
mpany of such like pe
•
sons, come.
Or, whensoe
•
er they or do
•
, or may
Suppose themselves Infectio
•
s any way.
These (as t
•
e
•
epers
did, by
Mose
Law)
From public Congregations should withdraw,
For, sure, if any such themselves intrude
To mixe among a h
•
althy Multitude,
(Though p
•
ayers or devotions they pretend,
Or whatsoever o
•
her pious end)
Their foolish practice is unwarrantable;
Yea, their condition so uncharitable,
That I abhor it: and bel
•
eve that for
So doing, God their
prayers
doth abhor
•
e:
And, here, (although it may impertinent
By some be thought) I canno
•
choose but vent,
How I dislike, ou
•
so much liked fashion
Of b
•
riall, where the public
Congregation
Are bound to meet: And then▪ especially,
When of
•
nfectious griefs great number
•
die.
I know both
Custom
•
,
and
Opinion,
have
So rooted thi
•
, that I my breath may save
In reprehending it. Yet, when I must
Be take
•
n hence, and turn again to dust,
Let naught but Earth and Heaven my carcass cover,
And neither
Church
nor
Chapel
roof
•
me over;
Nor any other Buildings, saving those
That on
•
lie serve, such relics to enclose.
For, though I do ingenuously confess,
W
•
should to show our Christian hopefulnesse
Of rising from the dead, lodge decently
Their flesh, who in
Christ's
Faith p
•
ofesse to die:
And, that
Churchyards,
or plots distinguished from
The vulgar use, do best of all become
That purpose. Yet, I know the common guise
Of bur'ing in the
Church,
did first arise
From ancient
Superstition;
and to gain
Some outward profit, to the priestly tr
•
ine.
For, many simple men were made conceive
That if (when they were d
•
ad) they might have leave
To rest within those plots of hallowed ground,
Which either
Church
or
Chapel
did surround▪
No wicked
Spirit
should permittance have,
To trouble or abuse them, in the grave:
Whereas (which yet old fools believe they do
•
)
They might else rise, and walk at midnight too
About their streets, and houses, or cross ways;
Till some
Mass-monger
them at quiet lay
•
s:
And then it was supposed, how much the nigher
They lay unto their
Altar,
or their
Choïre,
By so much more the safer they should rest;
Which
••
ought no petty sums to
Dagons
chest:
Thence was it, that our
Churches,
first of all,
Were glaz'd with Scutchions like a Heralds hall;
And that this age in them depainted sees
So many vain and lying
Pedigrees.
Thence comes it th
•
t we nowadays behold
Some Chancels filled up with rotten, old,
And foolish monuments. From hence we see
So many puppet Images to be
On every wall within our
Oratories:
So many
Ep
•
taphs,
and lying stories,
Of men deceast▪ and, thence the guise was gotten,
To let so many
Banners
dropping rotten
Deforme our pillars; and withdraw our
•
yes
From picus objects to those vanities.
If any man desirous be to lie
Within a
Monument,
when he shall die:
Let
•
v'ry noble
Family
erect
Without their Cities some fair
Architect,
Within the compass of whose roofed wall
There may be founded some good Hospital
Or build
•
ngs for the law
•
ull r
••
reation
O
•
youth, and for the honor of the
Nation.
And of that
Name
or kin, w
•
en any dies,
There lay their bones; or to their memories
Erect there
Tables.
And, let them tha
•
had
Such minds, and fortunes, to the
Structure
ad
•
e.
Yea thith
•
r (if they please) let them transl
•
te
Their Ancestors. But, I have spoke too late,
Those time
•
•
re past in which our noble ones
Were able to
•
rect such piles of stones
As might be emin
•
nt. Our kingly race
Had by the s
•
ven
•
h
H
•
n
•
y
such a place
Erected for them, so magnificent,
That to this Land it is an ornament.
•
et them th
•
t cannot reach the cost of these,
Raise
Cawsies, Bridge
•
,
and make
Docks,
and
Keys
For public use: which with as little cost
As now upon th
•
ir pedling Tomb, is lost,
Should make them live far longer in their fames;
For▪ we would
•
hose entitle by their
Names.
All they that love their Country,
•
ow they know
Which way they may their money best b
•
stow,
(
•
o memorize their Friends, with profiting
The public) will consider of this thing
And build them Tombes where we may praise the work▪
Not in a Church obscure, unseen to lurk,
Where few shall view them; and where most who shall
Be
•
old them, take no heed of them at all.
If some good
Patriot
woul
•
begin the fashion,
It
•
ig
••
allu
•
e, perhaps, to imitation.
And if it were not gr
•
edinesse of gain
Am
•
ng
Church-Officers,
whi
•
h did maintain
Such Custom
•
s w
•
should some
•
what more forbear
To lay so
•
any sti
•
king bod
•
es there
Where God we s
••
ke (and him should seek to find,
With
•
urity of body, and of m
•
nde)
Indeed our s
••
ne, alone pollutes; and y
•
t
An ou
•
ward decen
•
y is a
•
so fit.
Wasit well, that in the
Church
(where throngs and beat
Did mak
•
us in the crowd to pant and sweat)
Ev
•
n in the midst of our Devotions too,
Men should, as oft it pleased t
•
em to do,
Thrust in (where we could hard
•
y stand in e
•
se)
With f
•
ure or five strong sm
•
lling Carkasses?
Was'
•
fit, so many Gr
•
ves, at such a season
Should g
••
e and brea
•
h upon us? was it reason▪
That heaps of ru
•
bish, C
•
ffin-boards,
•
nd stones▪
Late bu
•
y'
•
bodies, and half
•
〈◊〉
bones,
God's Templ
•
should poll
•
te? a
•
d make it far
More loath some, then most
Charnell
•
ouses are?
Wasit fitting that to gain their griping fees,
They should endang
•
r multitudes to leese
Their lives, or healths? or, that they should fulfill
A fool
•
sh motion in a dead man's
will,
By wronging o
•
the living? God
•
orbid
It should
•
e reason; and yet, thus they did.
Thus did they? yea, far worse: f
•
r should I tell
At what high rates, some
Churchmen,
here, did sell
Their burying grounds: What feet they did exact:
H
•
w
Readers, Clerks,
and
Sextons
did compact,
To rack the de
•
d: to what a goodly sum
Their large
Church-duties
(in some cases) come:
What must
•
e p
•
id for
Bearers,
though m
•
n have
Their friends to help convey them to the grave:
What for the
B
•
lls,
though not a Bell b
•
rung:
What, for their
mourning clothes,
though none be hung
V
•
on them but their own: what pay did pass
For F
•
n
•
rall
S
•
rmons,
where no
Sermon
was:
And, what was oft extorted (without shame)
To give him leave
•
o preach, who f
•
e
•
lie came:
If her
•
(I say) I should discover
•
hat
I might, of t
•
ese things m
•
n
•
ioned, rel
••
e,
Those men who die, that charges they may s
•
ve,
Would f
•
are they might be legger
•
d in the Grave:
For, more
•
o take th
••
lodging ha
••
•
eene spent,
Then would h
•
ve bought a pret
•
y tenement.
Thus, a
•
one matter drew another on,
My
Muse
hath diverse things discourst upon
To many sund
•
y purposes: but, what
I chiefly in this
Can
•
o
aimed at
Was, to prese
•
ue in mind an awful sense
Of what we suf
•
red in this
Pestile
•
ce:
What we deserved; and how variously,
God's
Justice,
this one
Cors
•
ve
d
•
d apply,
To eat out all Corruptions, which be spotted
Our souls, and h
•
d ere this our bodies rotted.
I might as well have memorized here,
How diversely God's
Merci
•
s
did appear,
Amid his
Judgments:
•
ow he comforted,
When outwa
•
d come
•
o
•
t failed: how he sed,
When oil and meal w
•
re wasted: how he gave
Their lives to them, whose feet were in the grave.
What
Patience
▪ what high
Fortitude
he granted,
And, how he still supplied what we want
•
d.
I might commemorate, a world of Grace
Bestow'd in this affliction, on this place,
Both common, and in private. Many a vow
(Of theirs, who will, I fear, forget it now)
Was daily heard. Ten thousand suits were daigned;
Repri
•
ves,
for souls condemned were obtained▪
Frie
•
ds prayed for friends; the parents for the lives
Of their dear children▪ Husbands for their wives;
Wives for their husbands begged with tears & passiō,
And, God with pity heard their lamentation.
In friends, in servants, in the temporal wealth,
In life, in death, in sicknesses, and health,
God manifested
Mercy.
Some did find
A
Friend,
to whom till then, none had been kind.
Some, had their servants bettered, for them, there,
By God's correction. Some, left wealthy were
By dying kindred, who the day before
Were like to beg their bread from door to door,
Some, by their timely
deaths
were taken from
Such present pains, or from such woes to come,
That they are happy. Unto some, from heaven,
The blessing of a longer life was given,
That they might call
•
o mind their youthful times
Repent omissions, and committed crimes;
Amend their courses, and be warisome
That they displeased not God, in
•
imes to come.
Again, some others by their sicknesses,
And by the fears they had in this
Disease,
Grew awful of God's Judgments; and withi
•
Their harts, good motions were, where none had been▪
Even in their hearts who feared nor God nor Devil,
Nor guilt of sin, nor punishment for
•
vill.
And, some had health continued, that they might
God's praise ex
•
oll, and in his love delight.
Should I declare, in what unusual wise
God op'ned here their souls dim-sighted eye
•
,
Who blinded were before; how nig
•
they reached
To highest
Mysteries:
what things they preached
Even to their neighbors, and their family,
Before their souls did from their bodies fly;
Or, should I tell, but what young
Children
here
Did speak, to take from e
•
der folk their fear
O
•
Sicknesses and Death; what they expressed
O
•
heavenly bliss, and of this worlds unrest;
What faith they had; what strange illuminations;
What strong assurances of their salvations;
And with what proper terms, and boldness they
Beyond their years, such things did open lay,
It would amaze our
Naturallists,
and raise
A goo
•
lie
Trophy
to our M
•
kers praise.
But, this for me were too▪ too large a task,
And many years and volumes it would ask,
Should I in these particula
•
s record
The never ending mercies of the
Lord.
For, he that would his meanest act recite,
Attempts
•
o measure what is infin
•
te.
That story therefore, in particular
To med
•
le with I pu
•
pose to defer
Till in the Kingdom of eternity
My soul in honor of his Majesty
Shall
Halelu
•
ah
•
ing; and overlook
With hallow'd eyes, that great eternal Book,
Which in a moment to my view shall bring
Each passed, present, and each future thing,
And there my soul shall read, and see revealed
What is not by the
LAMBE,
as yet, un
•
ealed.
Mean while I will cry
Hosannah,
and for all
His love to me, and mercies general,
His three times holy, and thrice blessed Name
I p
•
aise, and vow for aye to praise the same.
The fifth Canto.
The
Author
justifies again
His
Method,
and his low
•
y
Straine.
Next, having formerly made known
The common
Feares,
he tells his own.
Shewes with what thoughts he was diseased,
When first the
Plague
his lodging seized:
Of what God's
Justice
him accused;
Upon what
Doubts,
or
Hopes,
he mus
•
d;
On what, and how, he did resolve;
And who from
Death,
did him absolve.
The
Plagues
increase, he then expresseth:
The
Mercies
of the
LORD
confesseth:
Emplores that he himself may never
Forget them, but, be thank
•
ull ever:
Then, mounting
Con
•
emplations
wings,
Ascends to high and useful things.
From thence his
Muse
is called down▪
To make
Great Britain's
errors known:
Wherein, he doth confess a sailing;
And (his infirmities bewailing)
Is fitted and resolved anew,
His purposed
Message
to pursue:
And, having fi
•
st anticipated,
His
Arrant
is, in pa
•
t, rel
•
ted.
PErhaps, the nicer
Cri
•
ickes
of these times,
When they sh
•
ll sl
•
ightly view my lowly
Rimes,
(Not to an end, these
Poems
fully reading,
Nor their
Occasion,
nor my
Aymes,
well h
•
eding)
May tax my
Muse
that she at random flies;
For want of
Method,
makes
Tautelogies
;
And cometh off, and on, in such a fashion,
That▪ oft she
•
a
•
les their curious expectation.
It is enough to me, that I do know
What they commend, and what they disallow.
And let it be enough to them, that I
Am pleased to make such faults for them to spy.
For I intend the
Method
which I use▪
And, if they do not like it, they may c
•
use.
They who in their
Composures,
keep the fashion
Of elder times, and write by imitation;
Whole quaint
Inventions
must be trimd and tricked,
With curious dressings, from old
Authers
picked;
And whose main works, are little
•
l
•
e, but either
Old scattered
Peeces,
finely glew'd together;
Or, some concealed
Structures
of the Brain,
Found our (where long obscured they have lain)
And new attir'd: These, must (and well they may)
Their
Poesies
in formal garbes array,
Their natural defects by Art to hide;
And, make their
old new-strains
the Test abide.
These, do not much amiss, if they assume
Some
•
stridge
feath
•
rs, or the
Peacockes
plume
To strut withal: nor had I greatly h
•
eded
That course of theirs, if they had not proceeded
To c
•
nsure mine. My
Muse
no wh
•
t envies
That they from all their he
•
thnish
Po
•
sies
Have scum'd the
Creame
& to themselves (for that)
The s
•
ile of
Prince of Poets
a
••
ogate.
For,
Plautus, Horace, Perseus,
•
uvenal,
Yea
Greece
and
Rome's
best
Muses,
we may call
Their
Tr
•
b
•
taries
; since from them c
•
me in
Those
Treasures
which their princely
Titles
win.
Sometime, as well as they I play the
Be
:
But, like the
Silkeworme,
it best pleaseth me
To spin out mine own Bowells, and prepare them
For those, who think it not a shame to wear them.
My
Matter,
with my
Method,
is mine own;
And I do pluck my
Flow'rs
as they are blown.
A
Maiden
when she walks a
•
road to gather
Some herbs to strow the dwellings of her
Father,
(Or fragrant flow'rs to deck her wedding Bowre,
Or make a nosegay for her
Paramour)
She comes into the Garden, and first seizeth
The Flow'rs which first she sees, or what she pl
•
aseth;
Then runs to those whom use or memory,
Presenteth to her thought, or to her eye:
As toward them she
•
asteth, she doth find
Some others, which were wholly out of mind
•
,
Even till that very moment: while she makes
Her prize of those, she notice likewise takes
Of
Herbs
unknown before, that lurking lay
Among the pleasant
Plants
within her way:
She crops off these, of those she taketh none,
Makes use of some, and lets as good alone;
Here plucks the
Cowslips, Roses
of the
prime,
There,
Lavander,
sweet
Marj
•
r
•
m,
and
Thyne,
Yon
•
July
•
low'rs,
or the
Damask Rose,
Or sweet-breathed
Violet,
that hidden grows▪
Then some again forenam'd (if need she thinks)
Then
Daisies,
and then
Marigolds,
and
Pincks
:
Then
Herbs
anew, then
Flow'rs
afresh doth pull,
Of every fort, until her lap is full.
And otherwhile, before that work be done,
To kill a
Caterpillar
she doth run,
Or catch a
Butterfly
; which varies from
That purpose whereabout she first did come.
So, from the
Muses
Gardens, when I mean
Those flow'r
•
of useful
Po
•
sie
to glean,
Whi
•
h being well united may content
My Christian Friends; or with a pleasing sent
Perfume God's house, or beautify, or cheer
My soul, which else would rude, and sad appear▪
When this I mean; I paint out every
Tho
•
ght,
As to my heart I feel it to be brought:
I t
•
eat of things, as cause conduces to them,
And as occasions, unto me, do show them.
Some
•
imes, I
•
rom the matter seem to go,
For purposes, which none but I may know
Sometime, an useful
Flow'r
I may forget;
Anon, into my
Nosegay,
I do set
Some other twice; becau
•
e, perchance, the place
Affo
•
ds it better use, or better g
•
ace.
A
•
one conceit I seriously pursue,
That, brings perhaps another to my view,
And that another; and that, many a one,
Which if in
M
•
thods
Allies I had gone,
Ha
•
, peradventure,
•
lse remained unseen;
And, in my
Gar
•
and
might have missed been.
E're I my pen assume, I feel the motions
Of doing somewhat, and have gen'rall
notions
O
•
what I purpose: But,
Mogul
doth know
As well as I, what path my
Mus
•
will go.
What, in particular, I shall express,
I know not (as I hope for hap
•
inesse)
And though my matter, when I first begin,
Will hardly fill one p
•
ge; yet being in,
Me thinks, if neither faintness, friends▪ nor night,
Disturbed me, forever I could wri
•
e.
Upon an in
•
taunt I oft feel my breast
With infinite variety possessed;
And such a troop of things together throngs,
Within my brain; that, had
•
twenty tongues
I shou
•
d (wh
•
lst I assai
•
to utter it)
Twice more, then I could mention, quite forget.
A hundred
Masings,
which I mean to say,
Before I can express them, slip away;
Which to recall, although I much endever,
Oft pass out of my
memory,
forever;
And carry forth (even to the woe
•
lds
•
arre end)
Some other thoughts, which did on them depend.
Whilst I my pen am dipping down in ink,
That's lost which next to tell you I did think;
And, somewhat instantly doth follow on,
Which till that present, I never thought upon.
This, fo
•
ceth me those
Methods
to forgo,
Which others in their
Poems
fancy so.
This makes me
•
i
•
th to my
Concep
•
ions
give,
As fast as they the
•
r
Beings
do receive.
Left whilst I for the common
Midwife
•
ary,
The fl
•
tting is
•
ue of my brain miscarry.
And, howsoe're they please to censu
•
e me,
Who but
Stepfathers
to their
Poemes
be;
This, is that way of uttrance that e
•
ch
Muse
Makes practice of, whom
Nature
•
o
•
h infu
•
e:
And, warrant from th
•
ir
Natural strai
•
es
do
•
h fet▪
Whom
Artifi
•
iall Poets
counterfeit.
These a
•
e true
Raptures
;
•
h
•
irs are
imitations,
Or, rather, of old
Rap
•
u
•
es
▪ new
Translations.
Thi
•
Method
long ago, old
Moses
used,
When God
•
is
Hymn
of
•
raise, to h
•
m in
•
used.
Thus,
Solomon
hi
•
Song of Songs,
compased:
And, when thy sin
•
er,
•
s
••
el,
was disposed
To praise the
Lord
or sp
•
a
•
e
•
nto his God,
O
•
ven
•
his passiens in a mou
•••
u
•
l
Ode,
In thi
•
contemned wi
•
e, from him did flow,
Those heavenly
Raptur
•
s
which we honor so.
As God's good
Spirit
carry'd him along,
So vary'd he, the m
•
tter of ea
•
h
Song.
Now
prays
; straight
praiseth
; instantly
l
•
menteth
;
Then half
d
•
spaires
; is by and by
contented
;
The
pe
•
son
of the
changeth
; oft
•
epeate
•
h
One sentence; and one su
•
t oft
iter
•
teth.
Which manner of expression, s
•
emes to some
So methodlesse, and so to wander from
A certainty, in what he did intend,
That they his well-knit
Raptures
discommend,
As broken and di
•
jointed; when, indeed,
From ignorance (or from their little heed
To such exp
•
essions, and such mysteries)
Their cau
•
elesse disesteem, did first a
•
ise.
Yea,
Ignorance,
not knowing what they meant,
When such an uncouth p
•
th the
Muses
w
•
nt;
Was wont (long since) to call our soul-wrapped
strains,
Poetic Furíes:
And that Name remains.
Yet, this old tr
•
ct I follow; this I use;
And, this no true-borne
Poe
•
▪ can refuse.
My scope, I ever keep, in all my
Lays
;
Which is, to
please,
and
profit,
to God's praise:
But, in one
path,
or in one
pace
to ride,
It is not fi
•
a
P
•••
should be tied.
Sometime he must be
grave
; lest else, the
wi
•
e
The m
•
tter, or the m
••
ner, may despise.
Sometime he must en
•
evor to be plain,
Lest all that he d
••
ivers be in vain:
Another wh
•
le, he
Parables
must use,
And
•
iddl
•
s,
lest some should the truth abuse,
And th
•
y that are the
Nymrods
of the times
Grow mad, in slead of leaving oft their crimes.
Sometime he must be
pleasing,
le
•
t he may
Drive all his frow
•
rd
Re
•
ders
quite away.
Sometimes he must have
bu
•
er stroine
•
,
to keep
T
•
e sullen Reader f
•
om a drow
•
ie sleep;
And whip those wantons, from an evil course,
That, without wa
•
ning, would be day
•
y worse.
Sometimes again, he must be somewhat
merry,
Lest
Fools,
of good instruction, should be weary.
Yea, he to all men all things should become,
That he, of many, might a
•
vantage some.
This, m
•
kes me change
•
the
Person,
and the
Style,
And vary from the matter, other while.
Thi
•
, makes me mix
•
small things, and great together;
Here, I am grave; there, play I with a fea
•
her.
One page, doth make some
Reader
half believe,
That I am angry: In the next, I give
The C
•
ilde an Aple. In one leaf
•
, I ch
•
de;
I somewhat in another do provide,
To help excuse those
•
railties I
•
eproved:
And those excus
•
s, are in place
•
emoved,
From such reproofs; left following on too nigh,
Th
•
Che
•
k,
might without heed, be p
•
ssed by.
This course b
•
c
•
me
•
the
Muses.
This doth save
Our
•
ines
from just reproof, when
Tyrants
rave
At our free
Numbers:
and when
Fools
condemn
Our
Straine
•
,
because they understand not them.
Such
Po
•
fie
is right: and, therefore▪ they
Who study matter,
•
nd what words to say,
Do falsely arrogate to be inspired;
Since, when they boast their souls are this way fired,
It is but
Wine,
or
Passion
ma
•
es them rave:
And thence the
Muses
their disgraces have.
Most times, when I
compose,
I watch, and fast.
I cannot find my
Spirits,
when I taste
Of meats and drinks; nor can I write a line,
Sometime, should I but take one draught of
wine.
Men say, it makes a
Poet,
and doth warm
His brain, and him with strong invention arm.
No m
••
vell then, that most do reckon me
For none, who of this Age the
Poets
be;
And▪ that so
•
nviously at me they strike,
For they and I are not inspired alike.
In such like works as these, if I should fill
My head, my
Muse
would have an empty qu
•
ll;
And▪ that w
•
ich to express she then presumes,
Would smothered be, with vapourings and fumes.
But, when those write; thenselves they first make merry
With
Claret,
with
Canary,
or with
Sherry.
And these are sure the Deities which make
A sensual ear, of them, best liking take.
When such as they reprove a sinful
State,
Or would those great enormities relate,
Wherein their times offend; they may be brough
•
To question for it; and it may be thought
Their sple
•
ne, revenge, or envy, did incite
Their brains to hammer, what their pens did write,
Because they did premeditate, and strain
Their faculties, their projects to attain.
But, when a man one
Subject
purposing,
Sits down to write it, and another thing
(Vnthought upon before) qu
•
te thrusteth out
That matter which at fi
•
st he went about:
When he remembers, that nor spite, nor spleen,
No
•
envy, hath his
primus motor
been:
When he perceives, nor dangers, nor disgrac
•
Can fright him, when such
Raptures
are in place:
When he doth find, that with much ease & pleasure
He utters what exceeds the common measure
Of his own
Gifts
:
•
nd that (although his Rimes
Are none of those
strong lines
that catch the times)
They from the
V
•
rtuous,
good respect can draw,
And keep the proudest
vicious-men
in awe:
What should he think, but that the power of God
Ins
•
ireth him, to show his will abroad?
What nee
•
he fear, but, most undantedly,
Make use of his inspired
Facultie?
No arrogance it were, if he, or I,
Should say that God our pe
•
s had spoken by,
To those we live among, since, we might say,
He speak
•
s by all his creatures, every
•
ay:
Yea, since in elder times it came to pass
•
,
That he declared his pleasure by an
•
sse.
What should we do but speak, when we are willed?
What can we do but speak when we are filled?
While wicked men we do
•
remain among,
With
David,
w
•
a while may curb the tongue;
But, burn it will within us, ti
•
l we speak,
And forth, at last, some thundering voice will break▪
And what should then our hearers do, but learn
Their errors, by our
Poems,
to disce
•
ne?
Why should they rail at u
•
, who neither fea
•
e
Then fury, nor for all their threatenings care?
Why do they, childishly, our Lines condemn,
That strike but at their
sollies,
not at
them?
Why, so unjustly still, are we pursued,
Who show them ho
•
v their
falls
may be eschewed?
And why do they by seeking of our shame,
Encrease our glor
•
es, and themselves defame?
Whence comes all this, but from that sot
•
i
•
hnesse
Which doth most people of this age possess?
But, let these questions pass; lest by degrees,
They draw us on, until our ma
•
ke we leese.
Thus far my
Muse
hath willfully digrest,
And of he
•
purpose,
now she vents the
•
est.
When divers weeks together
•
had wasted
In vi
•
wing th
•
se afflictions others tasted;
When day by day,
•
long had walked abroad,
Beholding how the scou
•
ging hand of God,
Afflict
•
d other men, and how, each morning
My going out, and
•
ow my b
•
ck
•
etu
•
ning,
Was every night in safety; I be
•
an
God's care and my unworthiness to scan.
And, 'twas, me thought, a favor, w
•
ich required
To be both much acknowledged, and
•
dmi
•
ed;
That (when so many houses,
•
v'ry day,
Were visited) t
•
e place wherein I lay
Stood free so long; co
•
sidering we were many,
And, then,
•
esorted to, as much as any.
But, th
•
re was somewhat needful to be known,
Which no man's grief could
〈◊〉
me but mine own.
And, that I migh
•
thereof in
•
ormed be,
God sent at last his
Judgments
home to me.
Y
•
a, peradventure, in my soul he saw
Some
•
ailings of my former filial awe;
Some thanklesnesse; some inward pride of heart;
Or over-ween
•
ng of mine own desert,
Arising from the merciful protection
W
•
ic
•
he vouchsafed me from this
In
••
ction
;
And t
•
erefore sent as my
Reme
•
bra
•
cer,
His dread
•
ull, and his bloody
Messenger
To t
•
ke his lodging, where my lodgings were;
And put his rage in execu
•
ion there.
For, in upon us, that
Contagion
broke,
Five souls out of our Gate, it quickly took,
And left
•
nother wounded; that I might
Conceive my danger, and God's love, a
•
ight.
It fell about the time in which their sum
Who weekly died, to the full was come:
Then, when infection to such height was grown,
That many dropped on a sudden down
In every street: yea, when some fools did tell
The lying Fables of the
Falling-B
•
ll
At
Westminster
; and how that then did fly
No Bird through
London's
air which did not die.
Even then it was. And, though some few did please,
By such like tales, and strange
Hyperboles,
To overstraine the stories of our so
•
row:
They did but needlessly their fictions borrow
To set it forth. Nay, their false rumors made
Our woes appear less great, then those we had.
Till now, I made th
•
smart o
•
oath
•
s known:
The
Griefes
I next will tell you, are mine own.
At fi
•
st, I stood as one who f
•
om a Tower▪
Beholding how the swo
•
d doth such
•
evo
••
e
(Who in the streets beneath him fig
•
ti
•
g be)
Accounts himself from danger to be free.
But, at the last, I fared, as it fares
With such, whose Foes have made, at unawares,
A breach upon their
Bulw
•
rke
; and I stood
No mean assaults, to make my standing stood.
For, both within me, and without me, too,
I had enough, and full enough to do.
No sooner to my Chamber was I gone,
But, I was followed straight, and set upon
By strong
Assailants,
who did much intrude,
And much disease me, by their multitude.
My
Reason,
who to
Faith
did lately stoop,
Revolted, and brought on a mighty troop
Of trayt'rous
Arguments,
whereby she thought,
On this my disadvantage, to have wrought.
Temptations,
sly-
Suggestions, Fear,
and
Doubt,
Did undermine, and close me, round about.
My
Conscience
did begin to be afraid
My
Faith
had been a false one; who betrayed
My Soul to Death: and (whether then it were
The power of strong
I
•
fection,
or else
Fear,
Occasion'd by those combatings within,
Or both together) I did then begin
To find my body weakened more and more,
And felt those pangs, till then unfel
•
before.
Even many days together, so it fared:
And sure, if
Superstition
could have scared
My better settled heart, there happened that,
Which I had feared, and somewhat startled at:
And (though I never outwardly complained
To any one, of that which I sustained)
That week, in which our house was visited,
And made complete the number of her dead;
I had a sleeplesse night; in which with heat
Opprest, I purged out (instead of swear)
Round-rud
•
y-spots
(and, that, no little store)
Which on my breast, and shoulders, long I wore.
Perhaps, it was the
Pestilence,
which then
So ma
•
ked me▪ and I, as other men,
By her had been devoured, had I not
Through God's great mercy, my free
pardon
got.
Which, how, and on what terms, the same I gained,
I
•
e now declare. For, though they seem but feigned▪
Or melancholy thoughts, which here I tell;
Yet, sure, to smother them, I did not well.
For, some, perhaps will think (as well as I)
That none should slightly pass such musings by:
And some (who at first viewing will surmise,
That in these things I merely poetise)
Will find, perchance, in times that shall ensue,
Expe
•
imentall proof, that all is true;
Should
D
•
rk
•
esse,
where her visage,
Danger,
shows,
(
•
t such a disadvantage) them enclose.
When all alone I lay, and apprehended,
How many mischiefs my poo
•
e soul attended;
I plainly saw (
•
hough not with ca
•
nall eyes)
God's dreadful
Angel,
ready to su
•
prize
My trembling soul; and every hideo
•
s fear,
Which can to any natural man appear,
(In such a case, to aggrava
•
e his terror)
Approacht, with every circumstance of horror.
I
•
awe the
Muster
of each passed evil,
And all my youthful follies, by the
Devil
Brought in against me, marshall'd▪ and prepared,
To fight the battle which I long had feared.
And such a mult
•
tude of them sur
•
ounded
My
Conscience,
that I was almost con
•
ounded.
A thousand sins appeared which were forgot,
And which I till that moment minded not,
Since first committed; and more ugly far
They seemed, then when they perp
•
trated were.
Yea many things whereof I brag'd, and thought
That I, in doing them, some good h
•
d wrought,
Declar'd themselves against me; and I found
That they did give my soul the deepest wound.
When these had quite enclosed me, I saw
The
Tables,
and the
Volumes
of the
Law
▪
To me laid open: and I was, me thought,
Befo
•
e the presence of God's
Justice
brought,
Who from her eye did frowns upon me dart,
And se
•
med, thus to speak unto my heart.
(Oh!
Readers
mark it well; fo
•
to this
D
•
ome,
O
•
to a worse then this, you all must come.
Suppose thou not, vain man, thou dost possess
This lif
•
till now, for thine own righteousness,
Or that thou merit
•
st mo
•
e grace to have
Then they who now are sent to fill the Grave:
Lo, here, thy Foe hath brought of thy offenses
An Army, and so many evidences
Of thy Corruption; that, plead what thou wilt
Of merit in thy
•
else, th
•
y prove a guilt
So heinous, that thy soul thou canst not free:
Yet other sinful thoughts of thine I see.
I search thy heart, and
••
discover there
Deceits, which cannot to thyself appear▪
I know thy many secret imperfections,
I know thy passions, and t
•
y vain affections;
And, that performances thou hast not made
According to those favo
•
rs thou hast b
•
d.
Vaineglory, profit,
or some carnal
end,
Thy best endeavor alw
•
yes did attend;
And, as distrusting, God would thee beguile,
An arm of fl
•
sh thou se
•
kest otherwhile:
Not as the second, but the chiefest
Cause:
Which from the glory of thy God withdraws.
Mine eye doth see what arrogance and pride
Thou dost among thy f
•
irest virtues hide;
And, what impieties, thou shouldst have done,
Had I not stopped the course thou though
•
st to run.
Of
•
••
mes, when others
Vices,
thou hast shown,
Thou hast forgotten to repent thine own.
And, many times, thy ta
•
t reproofs have been
The fruits, not of thy Virtue, but of Spleene.
Thy wanton Lus
•
s (b
•
t that I did restrain
Their f
•
ry, when thou w
•
uldst have slackt the Reine)
Had horn thee he
•
dlon to those deeds
•
f shame,
With which thy evil willers blur thy
Name.
Shouldst thou have done the best that thou wert able,
Thy services had been unprofitable:
But, thou scarce h
•
lfe thy Talent hast employed;
And, that small good thou didst, is nigh destroyed,
By giving some occasion, needlessly,
Of questio
•
ing thy true sincerity.
God of
•
hath hid thy frailties, and thy sin,
Which being known, would thy d
•
sgrace have been.
The show of
Wit
and
Virtue,
thou hast had,
He, to the world more eminent hath made,
Then theirs, who wiser, and much better are,
Though outward helps, and fortunes, wanting were▪
And, though thy knowledge, and thy former
Lays,
Among your formal
Wizards
got no praise,
Yet what they co
•
nted foolishness, became
A greater honor to thy slighted
Name,
Then they obtained: And, that Grace (I see)
Begot more pride, then thankfulness in thee:
And, I was fain, to let some scandals fly,
To teach unto thee, more h
•
mility.
In all thy wants, thou still hast been relieved;
From heaven thou comfort hadst, whē thou w
•
rt grieved▪
When Princes threatened, thou wert fearless made;
In all thy dangers, thou a
Guard
hast had;
In closest prison, thou best freedom gainedst;
In great contempts, thou most esteem obtainedst;
When, most thy fo
•
s did labor to undo thee,
They brought most honor, and most profit to thee.
Yea, still when thy destruction was expected,
Then, God, thy peace beyond thy hope, effected.
And, in the stead of praising him for this,
Thou robdst him of much honor that was his.
Tho
•
w
•
rt content, to hear the Vulgar say,
Thy
Spirit,
and thine
Innocence
made way
To
••
y escape. Whereas, thy
•
ons
•
ience kn
•
w
Thou wert a
•
oward,
till God
•
id
•
n
•
ue
Thy heart with
Fortitude,
and f
••
ely gave thee
That innocence which from harm d
•
d save thee.
When God thy Na
•
e div
•
lg'd for some good end,
(Which his w
•
se
P
•
ovidence
a
•
d soreintend)
Thou tookest the glory of it for thi
••
•
wne,
And, justly, therefore thy so being known,
Hath been a m
••
n
•
s whereby t
•
y Fo
••
h
•
ve sent
Their sc
•
ndal f
•
r
•
her, then they else ha
•
went.
As soon
•
as, God from trouble
•
id release thee,
(O
•
, but w
•
th
••
pes of ou
•
w
•
rd things possess thee)
Some fruitless thoughts d
•
d quit
•
thy heart estrange,
And after such vain
Project
•
ache thee range,
That he was o
•
t compelled to put thee
•
rom
Those blessi
•
g
•
, which
〈◊〉
to thy lips were come;
Lest, being then unseas'na
•
lie received,
Thou mightest of better thing
•
have been
•
ere
••
ved▪
F
•
w men so nigh g
•
eat
Hopes
attained
•
ver▪
With such small fortunes and w
•
thout en
•
eavor,
As thou hast done▪ and f
•
we
•
ha
•
e been crossed▪
That way (which thou h
•
s
•
been
•
) in what was lost;
That see and kn
•
w thou mightest, such loss and gain,
He sent; and, that he neither sent in vain.
Yea, that those evils which thou h
•
dst in thought,
Should scape the being into action brough
•
,
Ill
•
ong
•
es w
••
e stirred to prevent the f
•
ct,
By blazing what was never yet in act:
Bu
•
, might have been, perhaps▪ had not that er
•
ed
Thy heart▪ whereby t
•
y foes would thee h
•
ve harmed.
Thou to refresh thy soul h
•
st pleas
•
res had,
And though
•
by their abuse, hast f
••
bl
•
r ma
•
e
H
•
r use
••
ll F
•
culties. Thou hast
•
nj
•
yed
Youth, strength, an
•
health; and▪ them hast mis employed.
Thy God hath made thee gracious in their eyes,
Whose good esteem, thy soul doth highly prize;
And (of ill purpose though Il
•
not condemn
•
e
Thy
love,
or
meaning,
to thyself or them)
Thou hast full often stole their hearts away,
Even from themselves; and made thine own a prey
To many
passions
▪ which did sometimes bring
Upon your s
•
lves, a mutual torturing:
Because you did not in your
loves
propose
Those ends, for which,
Affection,
God bestows.
But, spent your hours (that should have been employed
To learn and teach how you should have enjoyed
God's love) that flame, to kindle, in each other▪
Wherein, you might have perished together.
Thou aggravated hast thy pard'ned crimes,
And, it
•
rated them, a thousand times.
Even yet, thou dost renew them every day;
And when for
Mercy
thou dost come to pray,
Thou meri
•
est confusion, through that folly,
Which makes thy prayers to become unholy.
Nay, at this
time,
and in this very
place,
Where God in
Judgment
stands before thy face,
Thou oft forgetst the danger thou art in;
Forgetst God's mercy, and dost hourly sin.
Thou dost neglect thy time, and trifle out
Those days, that should have been employed about
The service of th
•
Maker.
Thou dost give
Thy self that liberty, as if to live
Or die, were at thy choice▪ and that at pleasure,
Thou mightest pursue his work; and at thy leasu
••
.
Thy
Talent
thou mis-spendst; and here, as though
To look upon God's Judgments were enough
For thee to do; thou dost with negligence
Performe thy vows; which add to thy offense.
And loe, for these thy faults, and many moe;
Whereof thy
Conscience
thee doth guilty know,
My
spotted-Hound
hath seized thee: from whom,
That thou with life shouldst
•
eene have to come,
What canst thou say
▪ I could not make reply;
For, Fear, and Guilt, and that dread Majesty
Which I had apprehended, took away
My speech; and not a word had I to say.
But
Mer
•
y
who came arm in arm along
With
Iusti
•
e,
and about her always hung;
Did look, me thought, upon me with an eye
So truly pitiful, that instantly
My heart was cheered, and (
Mercy
prompting her)
Such words, or thoughts as these she did p
•
efer.
It is true most awful
Justice,
that my sin
Hath greater then thine accusations been▪
The most refined actions of my soul,
Are in thy presence, horrible and foul.
And if thou take account of what is done,
I cannot of ten thousand answer one.
As soon as I am cl
••
sed from my sin,
To sails myself anew▪ I do begin.
I to my vomit, like a Dog, retire,
And like a Sow, to wall
•
w in t
•
e mire.
I have within my soul, distempers, passions;
And hourly am besieged with strong temptations.
My
Flesh
is weak, except it be to sin;
My
•
pirit
faints, when I the goal should win.
My
Will
•
ff
•
cteth most, what is most vain;
My
Memory
doth
•
vill best retain.
That little good
•
would, I cannot do;
Those evil
•
I detest, I fall into.
The vapors whi
•
h from earthly things arise,
Too often veil heavens glories f
•
om min
•
eyes.
And I, who can sometimes by contemplation,
Advance my soul above the common station,
(The world contemning) do
•
sometime
•
agen
Lye groveling on the ground with other men:
My Faith doth fail; my mounting wings are clipt;
Of all my braveries I quite
••
n stripped▪
My hopes are hid; my sins do me defile;
And in my own esteem,
•
y soul is vile.
I will acknowledge all my aherrations,
According to their utmost a gravations;
And here confess, that I deserve th
•
refore
The loss of
Mercies
love for evermore;
Which were a greater plague, then to abide
All torments here, and all hell plagues beside.
But, I repent my sin: loe, I abhor it,
And, with my heart, am truly sory for it.
I fear thine anger, (but, to fear the love
Of
Mercy
could be lost, would in me prove
A greater horror) and no slavish dread,
But loving fear, this grief in me hath bred.
It pains my soul, that I who have conceived
Such pleas
•
re in thy favors, and received
Such to ens of thy love, from day today,
Should pass a moment of my time away
In any va
•
i
•
y; or live to be
One minutes space without a thought of thee.
But, more I grieve, that I should more
•
ransgresse
Then many do, whom thou hast favor'd less.
Although I am a sinner▪ yet I vow,
I do not in my soul my sins allow;
But, I d
•
t
•
st them, and oft p
•
ay, and strive,
That, I accord
•
n
•
to thy Law may live.
(At least I think I do) and hopeful am,
My love to thee is true, though much to blame.
In me there how rely rise (against my will)
Those lusts which I should mortify and kill:
And as I am enabled, I do smite
As well the fat, as lean
Amalekite.
But, if I have a sin that is become
My
Ag
•
g;
or as dear as
Absalom,
I wish a
Samuel,
or a
loab
may
Destroy it e're my soul it shall betray.
For, if my heart hath not it self deceived,
It would, wi
•
h willingness, be quite bereaved
Of what it most affects (yea, sacrifice
That which is dear
•
r then my hands, or e
•
es)
E're cher
•
sh, wittingly, w
•
thin my bre
••
,
A thought, which thy uprightn
•
sse doth detest.
Thou knowest, that I take no pleasure in
That act which I do fear to be a sin:
Much less if I do k
•
ow i
•
so: and, this
Doth bit
•
r make it, when I do amiss.
Though in my ways my walkings, now and then,
Appeare irregular to other men;
(And other while may shows of evil make)
Because from thence offenses others take,
Yet, thought I not, it less offended thee
To use it, then unus'd to let it be,
I would not tread once more in such a path,
To save my life, and all the joy it hath.
But, should it cost my life I canno
•
tell
If (in some actions) I do ill or well.
For, many times, when I do se
•
ke to shun
A plash, into a whirlpool I do run.
The Wolf I fly, and loe, a Lyon frights me;
I shun the Lyon, and a Viper bites me.
A scandal follows, if I take my course;
If I divert it, there
〈◊〉
a worse.
If I persist in that which I intend,
It giveth some occasion to offend:
If I forgo it; my own knowled esayes
I fin, and scandal give some other ways.
I find not in my actions, or affections
That thing that is not full of imperfections.
I cannot do a good or pious act
But there is somewhat evil in the fact,
Or in the manner; and it either
•
ends
To this man's d
•
mmage, or that man offends,
Whatever I resolve upon, I find
It doth not fully satisfy my mind.
I am so straitened, that I know not whence
To find the means of shunning an offense;
And, if dear
Mercy,
thou assist me not,
My fairest act will prove my foulest blot.
The
Woe
•
ld,
our
Fri
•
nd
•
,
our
Passion,
or our
Fear,
Hath so entangled us, at unaware,
With manifold engagements; and so draws
And win
•
es us, by degrees, into that
Maze
Of endless
Wandrings
; that it leads us to
That sin, sometimes, wh
•
ch we abhor to do:
And, otherwhile so strangely giddifies
The
Reason,
and the souls best Faculties;
That (as I said before) we do not know
What in ourselves to b
•
ke, or disallow.
Yea, we such turnings and cross ways do find,
That of
•
, our
Guides
(as well as we)
•
e blind.
The
Spi
•
it
and the
Flesh
have their delight,
In things, so diverse, and so opposite;
And, such a
Law of sin
doth still abide
With
•
n our
Members;
that, we swerve aside
Do what we can: and, while we help the one,
To what seems needful, th' ot
•••
is undone.
If by the
Spirits
motion, I proc
•
ed
To compass what I think my
Soul
may need,
My
Body
wants the while; and I am fain
To leave my course, that her I may sustain:
L
•
ft my engagements, or necessities,
Might my well meant endeavor scandalize.
If I but feed my
Body,
that it may
Assist my
Spirit
in some lawful way;
It straight grows wanton: If I fast, it makes
My spirit faint in what she undertakes:
And, if I keep a mean; mean fruits are they,
(And little worth) which then produce I may.
If in a Christi
•
n
love
some hours I spend
To be a comfort to some female friend,
Who needs my counfell: I do cause,
•
he while,
Another with hot jealousies, to boil:
Nor know I how myself excuse I may
Unless another's weakness I display.
Which if I do not, or some lie invent,
They censure me unkind, or impudent.
I can nor
do,
nor
speak,
nor
think
that thing;
But, still, some inconvenience it will
•
ring;
Or, some occasion of anevill, be
To me, or others; or to them, and me.
And from the
body
of this
Death,
by whom
But, by my
Savior,
can I freed become?
Oh! therefore, sweet
Redeemer,
succor lend me,
And, from these bogs, and s
•
ares of sin, defend me▪
Deare God,
assist in these perplexities,
Which from our frail condition do arise.
S
•
t straight, I pray thee,
Lord,
•
he crookedness
Oferring
Nature;
and these faults redress.
So out of frame, is ev
•
ry thing, in me,
That, I can hope for cure, from none, but thee.
To thee I there
•
fore kneel; to thee I pray;
To thee my soul complaineth; every day:
Do thou but say,
Be whole;
or
be thou clean;
And, I shall soon be pure, and sound, agen.
The
Will
thou gav
•
st me, to affect thy
Will,
Though it continue not so perfect still,
A
•
when thou first bestow'dst the same; accept it,
Even such as my polluted
Vessel
kept it.
For▪ though it wounded be, through many fights
Continu'd with my carnal appetites:
Yet, i
•
my h
•
arts desire to me be known,
Thy
Pleasure
I prefer before min
•
ow
•
e.
If I could choose, I would not guil
•
y be
Of any
•
ct di
•
pl
•
asing unto thee.
In all my life, I would not sp
••
ke a word,
But, th
•
t which to thy lik
•
ng might accord.
I woul
•
not think a thought but w
•
at might fhow,
That f
•
om thy
Spirit,
all
•
y
•
usings flow.
I would nor
hate,
nor
love,
nor
hope,
nor
fear,
But as unto thy praise it useful were.
I would not have a joy within my heart,
Of which thou should
•
t not be the greater part.
Nor would I live or die, or happy be
In life or death; but
(Lord
) to honor thee.
Oh! let this
Will
(which is the precious seed
Of thine o
••
e
Love)
be taken for the deed.
Assist thou m
•
against the potent evil
Of my great Foes, the
World,
the
Flesh,
the
Devil.
Renew my fainting pow'rs, my heart revive;
Refresh my spirits, and my soul relieve.
Lord
draw me, by the cords of thy affection,
And I shall fall in love with thy perfection.
Vnloose my chains, and I shall then be free;
Convert me, and converted I shall be.
Yea, to my soul (oh God!) and to my senses
Display thy beauty and thy exc
••
lencies
So plain, that I may have them still in sight;
And thou shalt ever be my sole delight.
The world though she should into pieces tear me
With troubles; from thy love should never scare me;
Nor
•
ble be to tempt me from one duty
To
•
he, with all her pleasure and her beauty.
Behold; I came to seek thee,
Lord;
even here,
Where, to attend thy presence most men fear.
Though here I saw the
Pestilence
withstand me,
I stand to know what work thou wouldst command me.
From all the pleasures of the world, and from
H
•
r hopes of safety, I am b
••
her come
Where thou art angry: and to see thy frown
Am at thy feet, with terror, fallen down.
Yet, hence I would not fly (although I might)
To gain the chiefest of this worlds delight,
Till I perceive thou bidd
•
st me go away;
And, then, for twenty woe
•
lds, I would not stay.
I came as heartily as fl
•
sh and blood
Could come (that hath in it so little good)
To do thee service: and, if die I must▪
Loe,
here I am;
and, I pronounce thee just.
Although thou sl
•
y me yet my soul well knows
Thou lov
•
st me: And I will trust in thee repose.
Though in myself I feel I am polluted;
I find a better righteousness imputed
Then I have lost. Thy blessed
Love
doth fill me
With joys, that will rev
•
ve me, though thou kill me.
My sins are great;
•
ut thy compassion's greater.
I ha
•
e thy
Quittance,
though I am thy
Debtor.
And, though my temp'rall hopes may be destroid▪
Yet, I have those, that never shall be void.
Thus, to the Lord, my soul I poured out,
When I with d
•
ngers wa
•
enclosed about;
And though I was a sinner, this appeased
His wrath in Ch
•
ist, a
•
d my g
•
iev'd soul was eased▪
He graciously accepted, in good part,
This poor oblation of an humbled heart.
His
Mercy
se
•
l'd my
pardon
; and I shook
The
Pestilence
(which hold upon me took)
From off my shoulder, without sense of harm,
As
Paul
did shake the Viper from his arm.
That week, moreover, God beg
•
n to slack
His
Bow,
and call his bloody
Angel
back;
Who by degrees retyr'd, as he came on.
For, week by week, until it f
•
ll to none,
The number which the
Pestilence
did kill,
Was constantly, and much abated still.
When we were fleating on that
Inundation,
At first we sent a carnal
Lamentation
;
Which like the Raven (
•
rom
Noah's
Ark) did fly,
And found nor rest▪ nor hope of remedy.
Then sent we
D
•
ve
-like
Mournings:
but th
•••
feet
A while could with no resting places me
•
Then forth again we sent them, out from
•
ence
Wing'd with mo
•
e Charity, and Penitence.
And then, they brought an
Olive-b
•
anch
of peace,
Which made us hopeful of this
Floods
decrease.
The Lord did favor to this
Kingdom
deign,
And, brought from thrall, his
Jacob,
back again.
His people's crimes he freely did release;
His ir
•
abated; his hot rage did cease.
His praise had in our Land a dwelling place;
And
Mercy
there, with
Justice
did embrace.
And 'twas a grace to be considered,
That a Disease, so generally spread,
(And so contagious) in few weeks should from
So many thousands, to a
cypher
come.
That our infectious beds, and rooms, and stuff▪
(Which in all likelihood had been enough
To keep the
Plague
among us, till it had
Our Cities, and our Towns unpeopled made,
Should from their noy
•
omnesse, so soon be
•
r
•
ed▪
Is out of doubt a matter worth our heed.
Yea, tis a
Mer
•
y
(though most mind it not)
Which in this Land should never be forgot:
That from an enemy so dangerous,
So great a City and so populous
Should in three months be purified so,
That all men might with safety, come and go.
For, e're the following
Winter
was expired,
The
Citizens
were to their homes retired:
The
Terme
from
Reading,
was recalled hither,
From every Quarter,
Clients
came together;
New trading was begun; another brood
Soone filled the houses which unpeopled
••
ood;
Our
Gentry,
took up their old rendevow;
And such a concourse through our streets did flow,
That every place was filled: and, of all those,
(Those many thousands) who their lives did lose
(But some
•
ew mon
•
hs before) no want was found,
The people everywhere did so abound.
To thee oh
Lord,
to thee oh
Lord!
be praise:
For, thou dost wound and cure, strike down and raise
Thou kill'st, and makest alive: thou frownst at night,
And, thou art pleased e're the morning light.
When we offend thee, thou a while dost leave us▪
When we repent, thou dost again receive us.
To ruin thou deliver'st us; and then,
R
•
turn again
(thou saift)
ye sons of men.
For, in thy wisdom thou considered hast▪
That man is like a bubble, or a blast:
A heap of
Dust,
a tuft of withered
Grass,
A fading
F
•
owre,
that soon away doth pass:
A
Moment
fled, which never shall retire;
Or smoking
Flaxe,
that quickly loseth fire.
An idle
•
reame,
which nothing doth betoken;
A bruised
Reed,
which may with ease be broken:
And therefore
•
ost in
Judgment, Mercy
mind,
Yea, in thy greatest anger thou art kind.
As is the space twixt heaven a
•
d ea
•
th, above,
So large, to those that fear thee, is thy love.
As far
•
s doth from
È
•
st,
the
West
•
eside,
So f
•
r thou d
•
st from us our sins divide.
Such a
•
a father to his child doth bear,
S
••
h love is thine, to those who thee do fear.
T
•
y
Justice
thou fro
•
•
ge to age declarest;
But, such as love thee, thou forever sparest.
I thou but turn away from us, thy face,
Loe, we are breath
•
esse in a moments space.
Thy look doth us with life again endue,
And all our losses instantly renew.
As oft as we rebel, thou dost forgive us;
And though into dist
•
esse, sometime, thou drive us;
Yet, alwa
•
es in our sorrows we were eyed,
And thou didst please to hear us when we cried.
With t
••
rst and hunger faint, some stray'd aside,
To seek a place where safe they might abide.
With, worse then bands of
iron,
they were chained,
And in the gloomy sh
•
des of
D
•
ath
detained.
With h
•••
and
•
ick
•
esse▪ they dejected were;
And to deliver them; no help was there.
Their wickedness
•
when they were plagued for,
Their souls th
•
sweetest mor
••
ls did abhor.
They for their follies, did afflicted lie,
And, to the gates of Death approached nigh.
Their souls within them were nigh dead with fear;
Yea, they distracted, and amazed were.
But, when to thee they called, they were eased,
And out of all their troubles quite released.
Thou sent'st abroad thy Word, and they were healed;
Thy
Wr
•
t of Indignation
was repealed
Frō out of
Death
's black shades t
•
ey were reprieved;
And in their sorrows and their pains relieved
From East and West, from North & South, and from
Their sev'rall wanderings, thou shalt call them home▪
In every quarter of the
Realm
thou soughtst
•
hem;
Yea to their
City
back again thou broughtest them:
And there (now) joy
•
u
•
l, and in health they be;
From all their fears, and all their dangers free.
Oh▪ would that men this love would think upon,
And tell their seed what wonders thou hast done:
Would they,
Oblations,
of thanksgiving, bringing,
Thy works would praise, and publish them, in singing.
Oh! would they were so wise that they might lea
•
ne
Thine infinite compassion to discern;
And that they would assist me to declare,
How grea
•
thy
Judgments
and thy
Mercies
are!
Though none can of thy favors make relation,
Nor fully utter all thy commendation;
Yet, let us do our best, that we may raise
A thankful
Trophy
to thy boundless praise.
Let us, whom thou hast saved, thee con
•
esse.
And to our utmost power t
•
y goodness bless.
Let us proclaim thy bounties, in the street,
And, preach thee where ou
•
Congregations
meet.
Let us in private, at noon, morne, and night,
And in all pl
•
ces, in thy praise delight.
Let
Prince,
and
Priest,
and
People,
old, and young,
The rich, the poor, the feeble, and the strong,
Men, Angels, and all creatures that have name,
Unite their pow'rs, to publish out thy fame.
But, howsoever, others may endeavor,
Let me oh! God, let me oh God! persevere
To magnify thy glory. Let nor day,
Nor any morne, or evening, pass away,
In which I shall not to remembrance bring
Thy
Judgments
; and of thy great
Mercy,
sing.
Let, never whilst I live, my heart forget
Those
Dangers,
and that strong entangled
Net,
In which my soul was hamper'd. Let me see
(When, in this world, I shall best pleased be)
My dangers such appearing as they were,
When me, they
•
ound about enclosed here:
Yea, when, o'rewhelm'd, with terrors, I did call,
Like
Jonah,
from the belly of the
Whale,
And was delivered.
Lord,
remember thou,
That with unfainednesse, I beg thee, now,
To keep me always mind
•
ull of thy love.
And, if herea
•
ter, I forgetful prove;
Let this
unfainednesse
which thou dost give,
An
Earnest
be, of what I shall receive
In time to come Refresh my cooled
zeal,
And let thy
Spirit,
thy
hid Love
reveal.
Let nor the fawning
World,
nor cunning
Devil,
Nor wanton
Flesh,
incite my heart to evil.
Let not my wand
•
ing eyes, be tempted by
Those
Objects
that a
•
lure to Vanity;
Nor let my ears be charmed by their tongues,
Wh
•
to betray me, chant out
Syren-songs.
Let me nor taste a
Pleasure,
nor obtain
That carnal
Rest,
whereof I am so fain▪
Till it shall make me plainly to perceive
Thy love▪ and teach me, foolish paths, to leave.
Let me be still in want; and ever striving
With some affl
•
ctions (whilst that I am living)
Till they for better
Fortunes,
better me:
And, then, let into
Rest,
my entrance be.
From year to year, (as thou hast yearly done)
New sorrows, and new trials bring thou on
My stubborn heart, till thou hast softened it,
And▪ made it, for thy service, truly fi
•
:
Bu
•
, give me hopes, and daily comforts too,
To strengthen me, as thou hast used to do.
And, that, in
Justice, Mercy
may appear,
Inflict (Oh
Lord!)
no more then I can bear.
I feel (and tremble that I feel it thus)
My flesh hath f
•
ailties which are dangerous,
To mine own safety: and as soon as thou
Shalt quite remove the fears that seize me now;
My sense of thee, and those good thoughts (I doubt)
May fail within me, or be rooted out.
Some
L
•
st
may quench them, or some
Care
may choke them,
Vain
ho
••
s
may veil thē or
new-thoughts
revoke thē;
The wisdom of the world, or of the Devil,
Or, some suggestion, in myself, that's evil,
May urge, perhaps, that it is
melancholy,
Whic
•
fills me no
•
; that superstitious folly
Begot this awfulness; that
•
his
Disease
Did accid
•
nt
•
lly, our
C
•
t
•
seize;
And, that 'tis vain to muse so much upon
Those times or trou
•
les, that are past and gone.
Oh! rather, then it should in me be so,
Some other house of
Sorrow
send me to;
And keep me,
Lord,
perpetual pris'ner there,
Till all such dangers overpassed are.
Nor weal nor woe I crave, but part of either,
As with my tem
•
er best agrees together.
For, joy without
•
hy grace, is griefs increasing,
And wealth is poverty, without thy blessing.
But if by passing this life's p
•
rging fires,
Thou shalt so purify my hearts desires,
That without peril to my hopes of heaven,
A temp'rall rest may at the last be given;
Vouchsafe it
Lord,
even for the good of them
Who my best resolutions, yet, condemn.
Let the
•
discern, thou blessings hast provided,
For that, which they unjustly have derided.
Thou her
•
tofo
•
e didst hear thy
Servant
call,
And madest me free when I was close in thrall.
Oh! to those
•
o
•
tals
make me not a scorn,
Who to my
Sham
•
my
Glory
seek to turn:
But let it in thy time to them appear,
That thou didst me
e
•
ect,
and me wilt hear.
Let them perceive (though they my
Lot
disdain)
The
promise of this Life
doth appertain
To me as unto them. And for their sakes
Whose weakness, otherwhile, of
•
ences takes
At my perpetual scandals; let their eye
Behold the
•
urne of my
Cap
•
ivity
;
And know tha
•
I have walked in a path,
Which, in this life time, some smooth paces hath.
B
•
t, naught repine I, though this boone thou grant not.
For, that which thou to me deny'st I want not.
I know thy
Wisdom
knows what best will fit me:
I know thy
Power
enough those things to get me:
I know thy
Love
is large enough to me:
I know thy
Pleasure
should my pleasure be:
Thy will be done, and hallowed be thy Name,
Although it be through my perpetual shame.
Whilst on such
Meditations
I was fe
•
ding
My pleased soul (and God's great goodness heeding)
That I might fill her with contemplating
On him, from whom all happiness doth spring:
A sudden
Rapture
did my
Muse
prepare
For higher thi
•
gs then she did lately dare.
Me thought, I saw God's
Iu
•
tice
and his
Love
Installed on one
throne
in heaven above.
I had imperfect fights, and glimmering
notions,
Concerning some of their parti
••
lar motions,
About this
Orbe.
I much perceived, me thought,
O those their wondrous works w
c
they had w
•
ough
•
In former days. And, as within a Glass,
Some things I saw, which they will bring to pass
In future times. By help of God's great
Book,
(Which for my
Ephimerides
I took)
I had proc
•
r'd a large intelligence
Of
Justice
and of
Mercies Influence.
There, learned I theseverall
Aspects,
And, of those
St
•
ries
the several effects:
W
•
ile in
co
•
juncti
•
n
those two
Lights
I saw;
The best
Alt
•
o
•
o
•
ers
could never draw
From all the pl
•
n
•
t
•
ry
Constellations
(Even
〈◊〉
•
heir best) such heavenly
consolations.
I co
••
d conjectu
•
e of their woe
•
ke divine,
In
S
•
xtile,
or in
Qu
•
drine,
or in
Trine
;
And what pro
•
igious
Plagues
the world should fright
If their
asp
•
ct
were wholly
Opposite.
Some things, by calculation I discerned,
Which this our
British
Latitude concerned;
And most of them not much impertinent
For all
Mer
•
dians
through Earths
Continent.
I saw of
Weale
and
Woe
the many ranges:
I saw the restless
Wheel
of mortal changes:
I saw how
Cities, Common-wealths,
and
Men,
Did rise and fall, and
•
ise and fall agen.
I saw the reason, why all
Times
and
States,
Have such vicissitudes, and various fates.
I saw what doth occasion
War,
and
Peace
;
What causeth
Dearth,
and what doth bring
Encrease.
I saw what hardens, and what mollifies;
And whence all
Blessings,
and all
Plagues
arise▪
I saw how sins are linked in together
As in a
Chai
••
; how one doth cause another;
And how to every link throughout the
Chaine,
Are fixed those
Plagues
which to that
Crime
pertain▪
I saw un
•
eal'd, that hellish
Mystery,
Of carnal and mere wor
•
dly
•
olicy,
Whereby the
Devil
fools this generation,
And brings on
Christendom
such molestation.
I saw (as plain, as ever I did see
The Sun at none) what damned
projects
be
Veild over with
Piety,
and
Holy zeal
:
And how, a
Christian Ath'isme
now doth steal
Upon this age. Forgive me that I saw
A
Christian Ath'isme
; for, even to betray
Christ Jesus, Christ
and
Jesus,
those two
Names,
Are oft usurped; and it us defames.
I saw, why some abuse their holy
Calling,
And why so many
Stars
from heaven are falling.
I had a
Licence
given me, to come
Where I might see the Dev
•
ls
Tiring-room,
And, all the
Maskes,
the
Visards,
and
Disguises,
Which he to murder, cheat, or rob, devises.
And wears himself, or lends false-hearted brothers
Therewith to fool themselves, or cozen others.
Here lay a
Box
of zeal prof
•
ssing
Eyes,
Which serve for acting of
Hypocrisies.
Hard by, another, full of
Double-hearts,
For those who play the
Amb
•
dexters
parts.
There, stood a
Ch
•
st
of counterfeited
Graces
;
Another, full of
honest-seeming Faces.
Yo
•
n, hung a suit, which, had some
Traitor
got,
He might have pass
•
d for a
Patriot.
Close by, were pr
•
ss
•
fuls of such suits, as they
Do wea
•
e (in every Kingdom at this day)
Who pass for
Statesmen
; when, God knows, they be
As far from that, as knaves from loving me.
There, hung those
masking-suits,
in which the
Popes,
And
Cardinals,
pursue their carnal hopes.
There, were those fo
•
mall
Garbs,
wherein false friends
Disguise themselves, for some unfaithful ends.
Faire counterfeits for
Bishops
saw I there,
So like their habits that are most sincere,
(And so be
•
ainted) that if they were set
Upon the back of our
Arch counterfeit,
He could not be distinguished from the best
O
•
all those
Prelates,
that have
Christ
professed.
There, viewed I all those juggling sleights with w
ch
Men work false miracles; and, so, betwitch
Deluded souls There, saw I all the trick
•
And
Fa
•
tosmes
wherewithal our
Schismatics
Abuse themselves and others. There (with ruth)
I saw
false-Doctrines,
t
•
imm'd about with
Truth
;
Fac'd out, with
Fathers
; pee
•
'd, and neatly dea
•
ned,
With
Sentences,
and
Sayings,
of the
Learned.
Yea, with God's holy Scriptures, interweaved,
So cunningly, as w
•
uld have nigh deceived
Even hi
•
Elect
: (and, many a one, alas,
Of these, for Christian
Verities
doth pass.)
I saw moreover, with what
Robes of Light,
The
King of Darkness
doth his person dight▪
To make it
Angel
like; and how he scrues
Himself among our musings, to abuse
Our understandings; how he lays his hooks▪
And baits, at
Sermons,
and in
godly-books
;
(Although the
Authors
had, in their invention,
A pious meaning, and a good intention)
I saw what
venom
he doth hurl into
Our heert'est prayers, and those works we do
In purest charity: and how he strives
To poison us in our
preservatives.
When all these
M
•
skings,
and a thousand moe,
My apprehensions eye had looked into:
From thence my
Con
•
emplation
raised my thought,
And, to a higher
Station
I was brought.
There, I beheld what ruin and confusion,
Was of these
M
•
mmeries,
the sad conclusion.
There,
•
awe I what
Catastroph
•
s
attend
Those Vanities, wherein ou
•
times we spend:
How God still counterworks▪ and overthrows
The projects of the
Devil,
and our Fo
•
s.
And, tell I could (
•
ut that it would be prated,
I some
Propheti
•
k spirit
arrogated)
Strange news to those m
•
n
•
ears, who have not learned
What nay, by
M
•
litation,
be dis
•
erned▪
Yet, all th
••
•
conce
•
v
•
I cannot write:
Nor would I though I co
•
ld: for, so I might
Throw Pearls to Swi
•
n
; of whom I may be torn▪
Be t
•
ampled in the m
•
re, and ma
•
e a scorn.
Nay, tell m
•
sel
•
e I d
•
re not, what I spy,
When I have
••
oughts of most transcendency;
Lest Pride possess me, and should cast me down,
As far below, as I on high hav
•
flown:
For, when we nearest unto heaven do so
•
re,
(Till we are there) our perils are the more;
Since, there is
wicked
•
esse
which we do call
The wickedness that is spi
•
itu
•
ll
In he
•
v'nly places
And as we do know
The
•
e is a
Light
•
ing
which dot
•
oft
•
n go
Quite thr
•
ugh t
•
e body, to the vital pa
•
t,
And kill the very
spirits
at the h
•
art,
Y
•
t never harm the fl
•
sh; becau
••
it m
•
y
Through v'ry por
•
us member make it way
W
•
thout impr
•
ssi
•
n▪ So, from our offenses,
Th
•
Devil
doth extract some
Q
••
ntess
••
ses
▪
Which we may rightly nam
•
,
the spiri
•
of
〈◊〉
▪
And, til
•
ou
•
thoughts
have sublimat
•
d been,
They a
•
e too gross for that to work upon.
But, when
•
uc
•
Sublimations
are begun,
He do
•
h infuse his
•
him
•
ca
•
l
receipt,
And,
•
ither w
••
k
•
precipita
••
on,
st
•
a
•
ght,
O
•
m
•
kes those
V
••
tues,
which pure gold were though
•
When they shall come to trial, worse then naught▪
I saw this danger (as my soul did fly
To God ward) and the Devils
Chemistry,
I lear
••
d how to frust
•
ate; by assuming
H
•
mil
••
y
▪ and shunning high presuming.
I, of those lovel
•
G
•
ace
•
,
got the view,
Which te
•
ch us how such peril
•
to eschew.
I learned there, how th
•
y m
•
g
•
t be p
•
ocured;
How the
•
continue
•
nce might be still secured;
And, in my pow'
•
i
•
is not to expr
•
sse,
How I was fi
•
l'd with h
•
pes of happiness.
My thoughts (yet) climbed higher and perceive
•
A
•
l
•
mpse o
•
thin
•
s
•
h
•
t ca
•
not be
•
onc
•
ived.
The
Love of God
; the
Ioyes that are
•
o co
•
e
;
A
•
d many fights
•
hat long were h
•
dden from
My blinded Soul. This, set my heart
•
n fire
To climb a lit
•
le, and a little high
••
;
Till I was up so high, that I did see
The
World,
but like an
Atom,
under me.
Me thought, it was not worth my looking on;
Much less, the setting of my love upon.
My soul did strive to mixe her self among
The
Cherubims,
and in their
Angel-song
To bear a part; and,
secrets
to unskreene,
That cannot by our mortal eyes be seen.
And, I would gladly thither have ascended,
Whe
•
e joys are perfect, and all woes are ended.
As thus I mounted; by degrees I felt
My
strength
to fail me, and my
wings
to melt:
My
flesh
waxt faint; my
objects
grew too pure,
For my gross understanding to endure.
A kind of shuddring did my heart surprise,
Like that which comes when sudden thoughts arise.
I far'd like him, who sleeping, dreams of store,
And waking, finds himself exceeding poor.
A
power
unseen, did hold upon me take,
And, to my soul, to this effect it spake.
"I say it was
God's Spirit
; if you doubt
"I arrogate, come hear the matter out:
"For, who the
Speaker
is, that will disclose:
"And, if 'twere he, his
Flock,
his language knows.
Despair not
Soul
(it said) though thou art fain
To sink from these, to common thoughts again.
Nor murmur thou, that yet thou must not rise
To thy wisht
height.
God's favo
•
r will suffice
For that which wants; and these high thoughts are given
In earnest of chat part of thine in heaven,
Which by t
•
y Royal
Master
is prepared;
And, in thy time allotted, shall be shared.
St
•
ive to ascend; but strain not over long,
Thy cl
•
mbing
spirits,
lest thou do them wrong.
The
Flesh
is heavy, though the
Soul
be light▪
And,
Heaven
is seldom reached at one flight.
Mount high; but, mount not higher then thy
bound
;
Lest thou be loft, and all that thou hast found.
Search deep; but search no deeper then thy power;
Lest some infernal
Depth
may thee devour.
Obse
•
ve thy
Makers
glory by reflection;
But, gaze not overmuch at his perfection;
Lest that great luster blind thee. Take thou heed,
Lest while thou thinkest thou homeward dost proceed,
Thou quite be loft: For, though these
flights
do raise
Thy Soul with pleasure, they are dangerous way
•
.
When higher then the vulgar pitch she towers
She meets with
Principalities,
and
Powers,
Who wrestle with her, that she may not rise▪
Or tempt her on, by
Curiosities,
To lead the mind astray, until it wanders
Among the windings of unsafe
Meanders.
Then doth it whirl about, to see things hidden;
Pryes after
Secresies
that are forbidden;
And by a
path,
which tends to
Heaven,
in show,
Ariveth, unaware, at
Hell
below.
Take heedof this▪ the way to heaven is steep;
Yet, e're thou climb it, thou must often creep.
The work appointed thee, is yet unended,
And, God's good pleasure must be still attended
Even in this world, until he cal
•
thee thence.
His
Kingdom
must be got by vi
•
lence.
Thou must with many frailties, yet, contend,
Before thy Christian
warfare
hath an end.
The World is brewing yet another
Cup
Of
Bitterness,
for thee to swallow up.
Thou hast from
Heaven
an
Arrand
yet to do,
Which (if God hinder not) will call thee to
More troubles, and more hatred bring upon thee,
Then all thy former
Messages
have won thee.
And be thou sure, the Devil will devise
Al
•
sl
•
nders, and all wicked infamies
That may dispa
•
age thee: or
•
ruitlesse make,
That use
•
ll woe
•
ke which thou dost unde
•
take.
Thou must prepare t
•
ine ears to
•
ear the noise▪
Of causeless
three
•
tnings,
or the foolish voic
•
Of ignor
•
nt
•
epr
•
verse
▪
•
nd expect
The secret
C
••
sures
of ea
•
h g
•
ddy
Sect.
Thou must provide thyself, to he
•
e great
Lord's
Talke, withou
•
•
eason, big imp
•
ious woe
•
ds.
Thou must contented be to make repai
•
e
(If need require) before the
Scorn
•
rs
Chair,
To hear t
•
em jeer, and flout, and take in hand
To scoff at what
•
hey do
•
not understand.
Or say, perhaps, that of t
•
y self thou makest
Some goodly thing; or th
•
t thou undertak'st
Above thy
Calling
; or u
•
warranted:
Not heeding from who
•
e mouth it hath been sed,
"God's
Wisdom
oft elects, what m
•
n despise;
"And foolish things, to fool the worldly wise.
But
•
ea
•
e thou n
•
t. For, he that in all places,
And from all dangers, wants, and all disgraces,
Hath hi
•
herto preserved the
•
; will secure
Thy safety now. That hand which did procure
Release from thy clo
•
e
Thraldomes,
and maintained
Thy he
•
t content, while thou went so restrained;
Will be the same forever: and, like stubble,
Consume; or, like the weakest water-bubbl
•
.
Dissolve t
•
e force of every machination▪
Whereby the world shall seek thy molestation.
Thoug
•
thou in knowledge
•
ar
•
a
Child,
as yet;
And, seemest not by outward
Calling
fi
•
For such a task: yet, do not thou disable
What God shall please to say is warrantable.
His Word, remaineth s
•
ill in date, which says,
That,
On the children of the later days,
He would pour out a measure of his
Spirit
;
And, thou the
•
eof a portion shalt inherit.
Though thou d
•
spised art; yet God by thee
Shall bring to pass a work which strange will be
To most beholders; and, no doubt, it shall
Occasion some to stand, and some to fall.
For, men to ruin doomed, will misconceive it;
And, they that shall have safety, will receive it.
Thy God ha
•
h touched thy
Tongue,
and tipped thy Pen;
And, t
•
erefore, fear not thou the face of men,
Lest
•
e destroy thee. For, this day to stand
'Gainst
Princes,
Priests, and People of this
Land,
Thou a
•
t appointed: and they shall in vain
Contend. For, thou the conquest shalt obtain.
Al
•
hough that viperous
Brood
upon thee lights,
Whose pois'ned tongue with killing
slander
smites;
And, though the ba
•
barous People of this
I will,
Do thereupon adjudge thee, for a while,
A man so wicked▪ that (although thou hast
The
Sea
of Troubles, without ship wrack, past)
God's
Vengeance
will not suffer thee to live
The life of honest
Fame
: Let that not grieve
Thy heart a whit. F
•
r, though their eyes do see
Reproaches,
which like
Vipers,
hanging be,
Upon thy flesh; th
•
y shall perceive e're long,
That thou (unharmed) them away hast flung.
And they who did exp
•
ct to see thee fall,
For thy firm standing, p
•
aise God's mercy shall.
Against oppression, he will
•
afe maintain thee,
Even God, who oft did his protection deign thee;
And took thy part against all those, that sought
How they thy
Muse,
to silence, might have brought.
He, that preserved thee from this
plague,
will save thee:
For, he thy life even of mere mercy, gave thee,
To serve him with Thou knowest thou art a
Brand,
Snatcht from the flaming fire, by God's own hand;
And that to him thou owest, all thou art,
And all thy
Faculties,
in ev'
•
y part.
Take heed, therefore, that nothing thou refuse
To utter, which he prompts unto thy
Muse.
Be constant: and,
Elihu
-like, beware
That thou accept not persons; nor declare
With glozing
•
i
•
les,
that which thou shalt say;
Left God may take thee suddenly away:
But, publish that which he of thee requires,
In terms, and words, as he the same inspires.
For, to this
Realm
and
City
thou art sent,
To warn, that of their follies they repent;
To show for what omissions, and offenses,
God sendeth
Famines, Wars,
and
Pestilences
;
And to pronounce what other plagues will come,
If their Transgressions they depart not from.
Indeed, of
Priests
and
Prophets,
store have they,
And, some of them are like enough to s
•
y;
When came the Spirit of the Lord to thee,
From us, who no such dangers can foresee
As thou pretendest?
These are they that share
The pleasures of the time, with such as are
The
Lands
perdition. These are they which tie
Soft pillows to men's elbows; and still cry
Peace, peace
; even when perd
•
tion, hanging over
The people's heads, they plainly m
•
y discover.
But, they that are true
Priests
of God among them,
And his true Prophets, think not, he doth wrong thē,
If he do choose a
Heardman:
nor will such
•
nvy the same (or at the blessing grutch)
I
•
all were
Prophets,
and God pleased were
To make that
Gift
to every man appear.
Though God's own presence, had made
Moses
wise;
Yet.
Jethro
's counsel would he not despise.
He, whom the
Angel
fed, did also eat
Even when the
Ravers
came to bring him meat:
And, all that of their
spirit
partners be,
Will hear what's good, though published by thee.
Behold; this thankless P
•
ople (from whose
Land
God hath but newly took his heavy hand)
Forget already what his mercy hath
Vouchsafed; and his late enflamed wrath.
S
•
e, how they flock together, to pursue
New mis
•
hiefes, and old follies to renew.
Their evil courses, they afresh begin;
And, even those very purposes of sin,
Whose p
•
osecution this great
Plague
hath staid,
To finish now they are no whit afraid.
Those
Discords
which they, many times, pretended,
Amid their fears, should Christian
•
y be ended,
(If God would spare them) are again revived;
And divers new malicious plots contrived.
Those
Lusts,
of which th
•
y seemed much ashamed;
Those
Vanities,
for w
••
ch themselves they blamed;
Those Bargains, whic
•
their conscience did persuade
Were wicked; & o
•
•
od abhorred made them; (thē,
That Pride; that Slo
••
; that Envy; that Excess;
That C
•
uelty; t
•
at I
•
religiousness;
Yea, all that wickedness pur
•
ude before,
(And which they fai
•••
so truly to deplore)
Returnes with intere
•
t; and they contemn
Good things; as if the
Plague
had hardened them.
Like
Phar'oh,
they repented while the Rod
Was laid upon them. But, as soon as God
Removed it; their minds they changed too;
And would not let their evil
customs
go.
Go therefore instantly, go draw the
Map
Of that great
Plague
from which they did eseape:
Set thou before their eyes, as in a glass,
How great God's
Mercy,
and their danger was.
Lay open their gross crimes, that they may see
How hateful, and how infinite they be.
Declare what mischiefs their enormities
Have caused; and will daily cause to rise.
Pronounce those
Judgments
which God's holy
Word
Doth for the
Wages
of their Crimes record.
And (as the blessed
Spirit
shall enable,
Thy
Muse
; and, show thee what is warrantable)
Tell boldly, what will on their ways attend,
Unless their lives and courses they
•
mend.
D
•
lay it not; and let no work of thine;
No goodly-seeming hope, or fair design,
(How promising soeve
•
) draw thee from
This
Taske,
until unto an end it come.
For, no affaire of thine shall find success,
Till thou hast finished this great
Business.
If any man that is thy friend, or foe,
Shall this deride; and say it is not so;
But, that thy
Fancy
only eggeth on
Thy
Muse:
or, that to do, or leave undone
This work, were much alike. If any
•
ay
Thou mayest proceed herein, with such delay,
As, vulgarly,
dis
•
retion
thinketh fit:
Or, as thy common
Bus'nesse
will permit.
Nay, if thou meet, as thou mayest me
•
t with some,
Who like a
Prophet,
unto thee will come;
And (as the
Man of G
•
d
seduced was,
Who told in
Bethel
what should come to pass
Concerning
Jereboam's
Altar there)
Perswading thee, those thoughts delusions are:
That, self-conceit, or pride, hath made thee dream
That thou art bound to prosecute this
Theame:
Believe them not. For, if that
Man of God
Here mentioned, did feel so sha
•
pe a rod,
When his delay was but to eat and drink;
(Perchance through hunger) and when he did think
A
Prophet
sent by God, had licenc'd him:
Take heed thou do not this advice contemn.
For, since this
motion
urgeth naught that's ill,
Nor contradicteth God's revealed will;
But rather helps effect it: since he moves it
So nat'rally, that thine own soul approves it
To be his act; beware how thou suspect it,
Or how thou shalt be careless to effect it.
Let not a worldly wisdom, (nor the scoff
Of any) from this motive drive thee off.
Take heed the fear of dangers, not the loss
Of carnal hopes, thy purpose, herein, cross.
Take heed, that
Jonah
-l
•
ke, thou be not bent
To
Tharsus
▪ when thou knowest that thou art sent
To
Nineveh.
For, all thy doubts, and fear,
Will be as causeless, as his doubtings were:
And be thou sure, that wheresoe're thou be,
A
Tempest
and a
Whale
shall follow thee.
My heart received this
Message
; did allow
It came from God; and made a solemn
Vow
▪
It would not entertain a serious thought
Of any worldly thing, till that were brought
To full perfection: no, although it might
Endanger losing my best fortune quite.
But, oh I how frail is Man? and how unable
In any goodness to continue stable?
How subtle is the
Devil?
and what b
•
its,
And undermining policies and sleights,
Hath he to cozen us? My soul was raised
So high, e'rewhile, that I admired and praised
My blest estate: And thought, with
D
•
vid,
then,
My heart sh
•
ll never be r
•
moved age
•
.
But, see, how soon, if God withdraw his eye▪
We fall to hell, that up to heav
•
n did fly.
I would have sworn (when in my
Con
•
emplation,
I was ascended to t
•
at lofty
Station,
So lately mentioned) that I should h
•
ve scorned
The goodl'est prize the Devil could have subo
•
n'd
To tempt me by. I thought, if God had said,
Do this
; that (though the
World
had all been laid
To be my wages, if I should delay
The doing of the same▪ but half a day)
〈…〉
••
ve rather cho
•
e to have forsaken
My life: then so to have been overtaken.
Yet, lo
•
; so craftily a bait was laid;
S
••
h shows of
Goo
•
nesse
▪ thereinto convaid▪
〈◊〉
means of hell
•
e to
Piety,
pretended;
•
o me so seemed it, to be re
•
ommended
By God himself; and, such necessity
App
•
ar'd of taking opportunity
As th
•
n it off
•
ed was, that I suspected
I had
•
one ill, the same to have neglected.
N
•
y, to my Understanding, true Disc
•
etion,
And, all the Wisdom of this Generation,
Did
•
o concur together to betray
My h
•
a
•
t; that I did foolishly delay
The Tas
•
enjoyed. Yea, what I had bgun,
(Proceed
•
d in) and pu
•
pos'd should be do
••
Before my best affairs; even that I threw
Aside; and other hopes I did pursue.
I brake my
Vow,
and I was led awry
For that which was mor
•
light then Vanity;
And so my hopes my judgment did beguile
•
,
That, I supposed all was well th
•
while.
Most, also, th
•
ught me wi
•
ely to ha
•
e done,
And,
•
uch a fortune to have lighted on;
That o
•
h
•
rs, of my happiness, began
To talk; and reckon me a prosp
•
rous man.
But, many scandals, passions, and vexations,
Much hindrance, and a woe
•
ld of perturba
•
ions,
Pursued me; to let me unde
•
stand,
That I had taken some wrong
•
ct in hand.
For, though like
Jonah,
I resolved not quite
From God's commands to make a stubbo
•
ne slight;
Yet w
•
nt I to his
Work
the fu
•
thest way▪
And, travel'd, as mine own occasions lay.
Which he perceiving, s
•
nt a
Storm
that c
•
est me;
Mad
•
shipwreck of my hopes; my labou
•
les
•
me;
Bef
•
ol'd my wisdom
•
; of
•
uch joy bere
•
t me;
Within the
Sea
of many troubles lest me;
And, what with speed and ease I
•
ight have done
At first▪ hath long with pain been lingered on.
Yea, when the
Ha
•
v
•
st
of my g
•
eat r
•
pute
Was looked for (and most expected fruit)
It proved chaff; and, plainly I perceived,
That God had suffered me to be d
•
ceived;
To warn me, that hereafter, I should never▪
Omit, for any reason what
•
oever,
His
motions
; nor with holy
vows
d
•
spense:
B
•
t work his pl
••
sure, with all diligence.
Which after I had heeded, I descry'd
By what, and whither, I was drawn aside▪
I plainly saw, that what I then had sought
W
•
th hope of comfort, would my woe have wrough
•
▪
I f
•
und that likely to have been to me
A
Curse,
which promised my
Bliss
to be.
I pray
•
ed God, as for a savor done,
That he did lose m
•
, what I might have won:
And what the world did think me hapl
•
sse in,
I
•
ound a gracious blessing to have been.
I s
•
w my fault; I saw, in vain I sought
To work my
will,
till
•
God's will had wrought.
I saw that while the furthest way I went,
God's
Mercy
did my foolishness prevent:
Yea, made it (by his providence divine)
A great advantage to his own
Design.
And, for my negligence when I had mourned,
To my propos
•
d Labor, I r
•
turned.
I beg'd of God
•
hat he would give me grace,
To be more constant in a godly race.
I did beseech him to bestow again
Those
Apprehensions,
which my
hopes in vain
Had made me lose: and that, for my demerit▪
He would not q
•
ench in me his holy Spirit:
But, gran
•
me power to prosecute my story,
And utter forth his
Message,
to his
•
lory.
My su
•
e was heard: I got wh
•
t I desired:
My soul, with m
•
tter, was anew inspired.
M
•
eyes were cleared; my heart was new enlarged:
Bold
Resolu
•
ions
h
•
d all F
•
ares discharged:
And, that which was d
•
sclosed unto me,
Doth appertain,
G
•
eat Britain,
unto the
•
▪
Come hear me the
•
efore; for, howe're thou t
•
ke it▪
My Conscience bids me, and I mean to speak it.
Within thy power thou hast me; and what e're
Shall good and right in thine own ey
•
s appear,
Thou mayest inflict upon me: But, this kn
•
w,
That what I shall declare, God bids me show;
And that, if I for this, have harm, or shame;
My God shall at thy hands require the sam
•
.
Oh! let not my requests in vain be made;
Nor to thy former sins, another add.
And, my sweet
Country,
and dear
Co
•
ntrimen,
Let not these overflowings of my pen
Distastfull be; as if their spring had been▪
But either from the Gall, or from the Spleene.
Let not this ages false
Int
•
rpr
•
ter,
(Which makes both
Judgment
and
Affection
err)
Corrupt my
Text,
by their false
Commentary,
To make your good opinions to miscarry.
For, though in me (as in all flesh and blood)
M
•
ch error hinders from that perfect good
Which I
•
ffect: y
•
t I his meed may claim,
Who makes God's glory, and your weal his aim;
And, begs but of his words a pa
•
ient hearing;
And, from your follies a discreet forbea
•
ing.
If there be
Truth,
and Reason, in the
M
•
ss
•
ge,
Let not my person hinder my
Ambass
•
ge.
If God shall in his
Mercy
pleased be,
To make a
Factor
for his praise of me;
Let none the poorenesse of my gifts de
•
ide,
Since he to no
•
xternall means is tied.
Despise not what I speak, for what I am;
Unless you find the mat
•
er be to blame.
For, God by Babes and Sucklings, oft, reve
•
l
•
s,
What from the wisest worldlings he conceals.
Both
Heaven
and
Earth,
to witness here I c
•
ll,
I dared not speak what now I utter shall,
Unless I thought, that God did me inspire;
And would this duty at my hands require.
Nor dared I to be silent, though I kn
•
w
That every m
•
n had vowed
•
o pursue
My So
•
le to
D
•
ath
; because m
•
conscience takes
A
•
kn
•
wl
•
dgement, that God w
•
thin me speaks.
I do not this, for that I se
•
selesse am,
(Oh! Englan
•
)
of thy infamy or shame:
For, thy dishonor doth concern me nearly;
And thee my he
•
rt affect
•
th far more dearly,
Then cow
•
rds do their lives. I would dist
•
ll
My blood (as ink is drained from my quill)
Even drop by drop; or else, at once, le
•
all
Gush forth, to save thy
honor
from a fall.
I aim not at a vain or fruitless glory,
B
•
d
•
ring: for, I know the mortal story
Of all the glorioust actions, that are under
The heavens large curt
•
in, are but nine days woē
•
er.
And that the most deserving works we do,
M
•
y ruin
•
us, and help disgrace us too.
I do it not that I may wealthy grow:
For, I the worlds rewards already know
•
n such attempts. Experience I have g
•
ined,
What poor preferments this way are ob
•
ained.
My former
Strain
•
s
(which did but way prepare
For that, which I hereaft
•
r should declare)
R
•
ceived evermore the worst reward,
As they grew better worthy of regard.
A
••
(if God let not) as these are my best,
M
•
troubles, will for them, exceed the rest.
It is odds, but that the willful
Generation,
F
••
who
•
I write this large
Anticipation,
(
•
o stay their censur
•
) will scarce read so f
•
r,
A
•
hitherto, where th
•
se
Preventions
are:
B
•
t, here, and there, pick out some tart relations,
W
••
hout observing of those moderations
That follow or precede them. Else, perchance
Their brazen and
Herculcan Ignorance
Will strongly keep that
Understanding
from them,
Whereby the power of
Reason
might overcome them.
Some also, peradventur
•
, will
•
orget,
How, when I formerly was round beset
W
•
th many troubles, I did still despise
The r
•
ging fury of mine enemies.
Yea some, no doubt, will have a mind to see
What kind of power, there is in them, or me;
And whilst such men there are, he thinks amiss,
Who thinks to thrive by such a course as this.
It is not from envy of their
Lot,
who grow
Great men, or wealthy, whence these lines do flow▪
For, I rejoi
•
e in each man's happiness,
Th
•
t to Go
•
s praise, good fortunes doth poss
•
sse:
And they that know my person, witness can,
My looks assure, I am no envious man.
It i
•
not malice that hath wrought upon
My
Passi
•
ns:
for, I vow, I malice none.
No
line
or
word
of this which now I write,
Proceeds from r
•
ncor, or unchristian spite.
When I have wrong received, if I say
Wher
•
in; what harm do I in th
•
t I p
•
ay?
'Twere much if when we inju
•
y susta
•
ne,
We neither may have help, nor ye
•
complain.
'Twere hard, if knowing I had many foes,
I might not say so, lest some should suppose
What
Names
they bear. To no man this will show thē,
But, unto
•
uch as do already know them.
Nor▪ when I mention wrongs, do I intend
Their shame who do them; but some better end.
For, they that yet are enemies of mine,
May prove Go
•
s friends, and to my good incline.
I wis
•
them well, what e're they wish to me;
And of their harm
•
wou
•
d no procurer be.
In gen'rall terms, I point out those that orre;
With none I meddle in particular:
For, knaves and honest men a
•
e so alike,
In many things, that I amiss may strike.
I find the faults; let others find the men.
I no man judge; let no man judge me then.
My
M
•
se
•
ath not usurped this
Commission
:
No
•
arrogateth to mine own condition,
More excellence then others: But, I shar
•
A part in those rep
•
oofes that others b
•
a
•
e.
I do not think mine own a spotless eye,
Because it faults in others can
•
spy.
I never thought it was enough for me,
A
Criticke
in my neighbors faults to be,
Unless I m
•
rkt mine own: which here I do▪
And ch
•
ck the woe
•
lds and m
•
n
•
own errors too.
I mean t
•
wink at n
•
n
•
; at none I aim;
To heed or friend
•
or foes▪ I do disclaim.
My Bow i
•
bent, and I must sho
•
t a flight▪
Of shafts, that will
•
•
n d
•
ver
•
places light.
Perhaps some o
•
them my best friends may wound▪
Vpo
•
myself
•
, some
•
o
•
he
•
s m
•
y rebound.
S
••
e (shot alo
•
t) may
••
ar the Kites that fly
A
•
ove th
•
clouds, themselves to Eaglifie.
Some p
•
er
•
e t
•
e
•
r s
•
des, who thoght they had been got
B
••
ond th
•
re
•
ching of my wing
•
shot.
A
••
some who thou
•
ht th
•
y h
•
d concealed been,
M
•
y fe
•
le my ar
•
ow
••
, wh
•
re they lurk unseen.
Ligh
•
w
•
ere they w
•
ll the car
•
's already took:
Si
•
c
•
none but he tha
•
's guilty can b
•
struck.
Hist thou fo
•
got, oh!
Britain
•
,
(and so soon)
•
hy lates afflictions, and God's graci
•
us boone?
As soon as e're thy neck unflacked feels
The curbing Reine, dost thou let fly thy heels?
Shall nor God's
Iustic
•
,
nor his matchless
Love
▪
Thy flinty nature to repentance move?
But wilt thou still in crooked paths persevere,
And of thy Vanities repent thee never?
Oh! look about thee; yea, look back, and see
What wondrous things thy God hath done for thee.
Thou wert in future times, an uncouth place▪
That had of
wildness
the deformed face.
Thou wert long time, the seat of
Desolation,
And when thou had
•
t but slender reputation,
God looked upon thee, with the first of all
Those
Gentiles,
whom in mercy he did call.
Of his beloved
Vineyards,
thou wert one;
And s
••
uate like that, once placed upon
The fruitfulst
Hill.
God, for thy
Fence
prepared
A natural wall, by
•
is own hands uprear
•
d.
He took away that stony heartedness,
Which did thy heathenish children first possess;
And hath been pleased, many times, since th
•
n,
To gather out those flinty hearted men,
Who by a bloody persecuting hand,
Did harm thy tender
Sapling
•
in thy Land.
He plucked out of thee the stinki
•
g
weeds
Of
Sin
and
Superst
•
tion
; that the
seeds
Of
Truth
and
Hol
•
ne
•
se
might here be sown,
Where wickedness the so
•
le had overgrown.
The choicest
Plants
(of that
Vine-mys
•
icall,
His
only-Son
) he planted thee withal.
The stately
Watch tower
of his
P
•
ovidence
Compleatly furnished, for thy defense,
In thee was built up; and did appear
To many other Kingdoms, far and near:
And on the lofty Turrets of the same
He set his
Flags,
and
Ensigns
of his
Name,
Whose beauteous Colours being wide displayed,
Did make thy adversaries all afraid.
Within thy
Borders,
hath his
Love divine
The
Wine-press,
of a
Christian discipline
Erected; and in every season given
(To make thee fruitful) dew & showers from heaven.
Yea thou hast had, since food of life grew scanty,
Not barely seven, but seventy years of plenty.
What grace soever might repeated be
That God for
Israel
did, he did for thee.
He from a
thralldom,
worse then they sustained,
While in th'
Egyptian
bond
•
ge they remain
•
d,
Did bring thy Children thorough
Baptismes
Flood,
And drown thy Fo
•
s, within a
Sea
of
Blood.
Thy Coast unto a large extent he stretcheth,
For, even from Sea to Sea it compass fetcheth▪
Thy Land with Milk and Honey over-flows.
In thee all pleasure, and all plenty grows.
God kept thee as the apple of an eye;
And, as when
Eglets
are first taught to fly,
Their
Dam
about th
•
m hovers; so, thy God,
Doth over thee, display his wings abroad.
A Land of Hills and Dales thou wert created;
And in a Clime, so pro
•
itable, seated,
Th
•
t whereas many other Lands are fain
To water all their seeds, and plants, with pain,
Thou fav'st that labor: for, the Dewes yield matter
To ch
•
ere thy Gardens, and the Clouds bring water.
Faire Woods & Groves, do yet adorn thy Mountain
•
;
Thou a
•
t a Land of Rivers, and of
•
ountaines:
Springs hot and cold, and fresh, and salt, there be▪
And, some that cure diseased folk in thee.
Thee, both in Town and Field, the
Lord
hath blest;
Thy People and thy Cattle are encreast.
Blest wert thou in thy going forth to war;
And blessed also thy returnings were.
He blest thee in thy store, and in thy basket:
Thine own request he gave, when thou didst ask it:
He evermore hath timely favors done thee:
Throughout the year his eye hath been upon thee:
He careful was, what perils might betide thee;
And heedful all things needful to provide thee:
In Grass, and Corn, and Fruits, thou dost excel:
Thy Horse are strong, thine Oxen labor well:
The udders of thy Kine grow large with milk:
Thy Sheep yield fleeces, like the
Persian
silk:
Thy Stones are
Iron,
and
•
hy Hills are big
With
Minerals,
which from their wombs we dig:
Thy Soil is neither over moist, nor dry:
The Sun n
•
r keeps too far nor comes too nigh:
Thy Air doth few contag
•
ous vapors breed:
Nor doth it, oft, in heat, or cold exceed.
Still, for thy sins, thou hadst thy due corrections;
And, foundst compassion in thy great afflictions.
His
Prophets
and his
Preachers
God hath sent
In every age, to move thee to repent;
And, them thou smote'st, and murtherd'st, now & thē;
Yet, gave he not to other Hu
•
bandmen
His wronged
Vineyard
: but, doth yet a
•
tend,
In expectation, when thou wilt amend.
He, over all thy Foes, the conquest gave thee:
He did from wrong, by neighb'ring
Nations,
save thee:
And, they to fear and honor thee were moved,
Because they saw thee, of thy God, beloved.
Thou hadst a
Deborah
bestowed upon thee,
Who freed thee from thy Foes, and glory won thee,
In spite of
Sisera:
For, God did please
To make the Stars, the Clouds, the Winds, and Se
•
s,
To fight thy batt
•
ls. When her turn w
•
s gone.
He raised up another
Solomon,
With
•
n thy Borders to
•
stablish peace,
Who to thy glories added an increase.
Thou wert as often warned, and punished;
As much besought; as largely promised,
As
Judah
was. Thy
Church
that lately seemed
Like barren
Hannah
(and was disesteemed
Of proud
Peninnah)
in a spiritual breed,
Doth most of
Syons
Daughters, now exceed:
And thou hast viewed many of thy sons,
To sit and govern, on earths glorious
Thrones.
The Jewish
Commonw
•
alth
was n
•
ver daigned
More great
Deliverances
then thou hast gained.
Nor was their help vouchsafed in better season;
As
Eighty eight,
and our great
Powder-
•
reason,
Can witness well. For, then thy preservation
Was wrought by God (to all men's admi
•
ation)
Even when
Hels
Iawes, on thee, were like to
•
lose;
And when, for human aide to interpose,
There scarce was means, or time. All which was done
That thou God's love mightest think the more upon.
Moreover, that no means might pass un
•
ride,
Which God did for the
Jews
of old provide;
To thee he also sends his
only Son:
Not, as to them, a poor con
•
emned one,
(That,
seeing
him, they might not him
perceive,
And he
•
ing him, no knowledge of him have)
Not as a weakling, or illi
•
e
•
a
•
e:
Or mean, or in a persecuted
•
late:
Or one whose person, beauty, and
••
mpl
•
xion,
In th
•
m, had nothing stirring up affection;
Nor as a man that worthy seemed of scorn,
Of mocks, of whips, and of a crown of though
•
ne:
He came not so to thee for, thou hadst
•
hen
Despis'd and crucified him agen,
As well as they: yea, thou perchance, hadst more
Despighted him, then others heretofore.
But, in a glorious wise to thee he came:
With power, with approb
•
tion, and with fame.
His
Fishermen
(that heretofore did seem
To
Jews
and
Gentiles,
of so mean esteem)
Had won whole Count
•
ies from Idol
•
try,
And made them to confess his sov'raignty▪
He comes to thee with honor, like a
King
:
He did into (the
Church
) his
Kingdom,
bring
A settled Government. He had assw
•
ged
That
Jewish
and that
Ethnic
spite, which raged
At his first coming.
Emperors
became
His
Viceroys
; and did govern in his
Nam
•
.
Thou sawst fulfilled, many things (of old)
Both by his
Pr
•
phets
and
Himself,
foretold;
Which did confirm him, that
Messiah,
whom
Thou shouldst receive. His
Doctrines
well become
His purity: and, witnessed is he
By
Martyrs
and
Confessors,
him to be
Whom thou shouldest hear. And (this hath greater made
Thy
Favors,
then that
Grace
the
Jews
have had)
Their threats, th
•
ir punishments, their ignorances,
Thei
•
pe
•
tinacy, and deliverances,
Their fallings, risings, and relapses, are
Recorded, that by them thou mightest beware.
Thou knowest what
Desolation
they are in,
In recompense of their despiteful s
•
n,
The murder of their
Brother:
yea, like
Cain,
Thou seest, that, yet, they vagabonds remain.
Thou hear'st, their fruitful
Land
hath ever since,
Beene cur
•
with barrenness, for their offense:
That, w
•
thout
King, Priest, Prophet,
or good order,
They through the woe
•
ld have wandered for their murder
Nigh sixteen hundred years: and that all
•
ho
They be abhorred, wheresoe're they go,
They have upon them, still, the mark of
Cain,
Which will prevent their being wh
•
lly stain;
Lest (as the blessed
Psalmist
hath foretold)
The People of the
Lord
▪ forget it should.
Yet, nor their good
Examples
▪ nor their
Fall,
Nor all their
Blessings,
nor their
Sorrow
•
s
all,
Have bettered thee: but, thou continue'st in
Their obstinacies, and in all their s
•
n.
Like them thou murmur'st, if God, but to try thee,
Some blessing, for a little time deny thee,
So, thou dost wanton it, as soon as e're,
In any suffering, he thy voice doth hear
•
.
So, thou God's wholesome counsel dost despise,
To follow thi
•
e own foolish
Policies.
So, thou dost mixe thyself with other N
•
tions,
And, learn to practice their abominations.
So, on those broken Reeds thou dost rely,
Which will deceive, in thy necessity.
So, thou dost stop thine cares (to thine own harm)
Although the
Charmer
never so wisely charm.
That which thy
Prophets
teach, and well advise;
Just so, thou dost neglect; just so, despise:
Yea, though from time to time, thou seest the path
Which
•
hou dost follow, ill successes hath:
Though thou hast found, that they who did fore
•
ell
Thy course was foolish, did forewarn thee well:
Though thou dost find, no rest, nor peace, in that,
Which thou art yet unwisely aiming at:
And, though thy truest
Lovers,
every day,
Do counsel thee, and for thy safety pray;
Thou run
•
st headlong, still, thy willful cou
•
se,
And vaxest every moment, worse and worse.
Thy eyes are blinded, and thou canst not see;
Thy heart is hard, and will not softened be.
To thy best Friends thou shewst thyself a Foe,
As if, thou rip'ned wert, for overthrow:
And, till God please to turn thy heart again,
All, that speak truth to thee, shall speak in vain.
Whence do thy troubles, and thy losses come,
But, from thy carnal
policies,
and from
Thine own vain
projects,
which thou dost pursue,
By
courses,
that will still thy cares renew?
What gain thy children, by their of
•
alliance
With
Babels
issue, or by their affiance,
But mongrel off-springs; which will ready be,
To stir up everlasting strifes in thee?
Though thou hast heard, the
Midianites
do give
Their daughters to no end, but to deceive;
And that the people who to
Moloch
pray,
Wi
•
l for their
Idol,
cast their sons away:
Though thou hast heard what plagues ensu'd upon
The wivings of the wise King
Solomon
;
And knowest that by God, forbid it was,
A
Bullock
should be yoked with an
Ass:
Though thou hast seen that their
•
ffiniti
•
s
Are even, among themselves, poor slender ties;
And such as they do naught at all respect,
Unless they serve their p
•
ojects to
•
ffect:
Yet, in their course, thy Children do proceed,
And sow God's
Garden
with a mixed s
•
ed:
O
•
which, unless they t
•
uly do repent,
And s
•
eke, by carefell tillage to prevent,
What may ensue thereon (as yet they may)
Thy Land will suffer for it, another day.
T
•
y Guiltinesse (oh!
Britain
) makes thee fear,
And often troubled where no terrors are.
Thy faith hath failed thee, and thou didst not see
Those armies, which have round encl
•
sed thee
For thy protection. For, had they been heeded,
Thou no
Egyptian
succors shouldest have needed.
If thou coul
•
'
•
t walk within a constant p
•
th,
This
Island
should not fear
Iberi
•
's
wrath.
It should be needless for thee, to pro
•
ure
Alliances,
that cannot long
•
ndure.
Thou shouldst not care (but, as t
•
ey
Christian
•
be)
What
Kings
on earth, were friends, or foes to thee.
No power abroad, should make thy children tremble;
Nor home-bred faction cause thee to dissemble:
But, being safe in God, thou shouldst contemn
The greatest dangers, and get praise by them▪
Oh! call to mind, the times now past away▪
Those, which our
Fathers,
yet, remember may;
And let thine
Elders
tell thee (for they know)
How strong in God's protection thou didst grow.
What
•
antedst thou, when thou we
•
t all alone?
When thou hadst nothing to rely upon,
But God's mere mercy? and such grace bestowne,
That thou couldst use those pow'rs that were thine own?
When blest
Eliza
wore but half thy
Crown,
And, almost all the world, on her did frown;
When
Rome's
proud
Bishop
; and, of
Christendom
The pow'
•
fulst
Monarck,
did her foes become.
When
•
he had no Alliance, to make strong
Her party: but, wa
•
hateful grown, among
The neighb'ring
Princes
; for her casting by
The yoke of
•
abylonish
tyranny.
When she within her Kingdom had a swarm
Of
Hornets,
which did howrly threaten harm
Both to her State and person. When their pow'
•
And fury, w
••
more likely to devour,
Then at this present it appears to be.
When her own Court
•
rom traitors was not free,
When she had
Irish
Rebels to co
•
rect;
Opp
•
essed
Netherlanders
to protect;
And
France
to umpire in: even when all these,
And other troubles did her
State
disease.
What glory, wealth, and safety ha
••
t
•
ou got,
That she, amid those d
•
ngers, purchased no
•
?
Religion in her days did still en
•
re
•
se;
At home she had bo
•
h
plentiousne
•
se
and
peace
;
Abroad,
•
he was renow
•
'd: she did not paus
•
In execut
•
ng o
•
her whole
••
ome Laws,
Through fear o
•
any Malecontents at home;
Or any threatenings from the Sea of
Rome.
She triple
Geri
•
ns
forces did con
•
emne;
Her neighbors sought h
•
r aid; she sought not thē.
She awe'd the
West:
she from the
Sp
•
nish
Coast
Did rend their
golden-fl
•
eces
; and she crossed
Their hopeful'st aims. They could not unde
•
mine
He
•
Counsels; nor by any sly design,
Defea
•
her Forces:
Fr
•
nce
was prudent then,
And would not stir the w
•
ath of
En
•
lish
•
e
•
:
For, they p
•
eserv'd their honor, by pr
•
serving
Their trust in God; and coastan p
••
hs observin
•
.
Then, to affront us, did no
D
••
chman
dare,
Nor, in ou
•
Voyages
presume to sh
•
re,
But, with our favor. We had
•
ame by land;
O
•
r pow'rfull
Navies
did the Seas command.
To ours, the strongest Fleets did strike their sails;
They, that now bark; then, d
•
r'd not w
•
g their tails▪
Yea,
•
hough our
Lions
not so many were,
Our strongest Fo
•
, to
•
ouze them, sto
•
d in fear.
No son of thine presumed, then, to be
So trai
•
erous unto thy God, and thee,
As to allow a popish Liberty:
Much less to move,
•
or that impiety,
In public hearing. No man sought to sell,
For any sum, the peace of
Israel:
No no
•
within ou
•
Ir
•
sh
•
onfin
•
s; though
It somewhat urgent seemed to have it so:
Because that peace
••
ll power thou hadst not got,
Which now thou hast: nor, then, the neighb'ring
Scot
So firm unto thy State; nor so engaged
To tame that
Nation,
if a war it waged.
Thy
Patriots
perc
•
iv'd, that to begin
With
Ireland,
would become the means to win
Great
Britain
to the
Romish
yoke anew;
And, give the
Spaniard
courage, to pursue
His great design upon the
British
nations.
They saw what civil broils their
Tolerations
Have bred in
France.
For, if within her womb,
Rebecca
could not but diseas'd
•
ecome,
(Whilst she, at once, two sons did nourish there,
Which Fathers of unlike
Religions
w
•
re)
They
•
hought, that if one
Kingdom
should admit
Two such
Concepti
•
ns,
to grow
•
ipe in it,
They
•
old, by daily struggling with each other,
Afflict the body o
•
their nat'ral
•
Mother;
And, cause an endless
Warfare,
until one
Were settled in possession, all alone.
Thou didst not then, within t
•
y
Bounds
afford
An Altar b
•
th to
Baal
▪ and to the
Lord.
What thou resolv'dst, was put in execution;
Thy zeal was chill'd with no irresolution.
No haltings were appa
•
a
••
. No disunion
Did hazard (though it troubled) thy
Communion
:
And, though thy many follies brought afflictions,
(Which, of though
•
e errors, were the due corrections)
Yet, was thy faith in God, l
•
sse violated:
Apparant evils not so p
•
lliated:
Propha
•
enesse, not so patronized, as now:
Nor didst thou such impieties allow.
But, th
•
u art changed from what once thou w
•
r
•
;
Thy worse hath overcome
•
thy better part.
Upon thin
•
own distempe
•
s thou art
•
ost:
Thy confidence in God is almost l
•
st.
And, thence it comes, that though thou dost ab
•
und
In many blessings▪ thou art needy found.
This makes
Transgressions
to increase upon thee;
They bring new troubles, and new dangers on thee;
These make thee fear; thy terror causes thee
Impatient of thy feared harms to be:
Impatience makes thee so unfit to stay
God's l
•
assure; that, thou ru
•
n'st another way,
And seek'st for help in thine own
Fantasies,
In fleshly
Leagues,
and human
Policies.
Those courses overwhelm thee with new sins:
From them, another b
•
ood of
Pl
•
gues
begins,
Whi
••
doth not mollify, but more obdure
Thy
•
linty breast: and will at last p
•
ocure
Thy to
•
all overthrow; unless thou climb
The hill of he
•
ty
Penitence,
in time.
Growne fat with case, & wealth, thou hast forsook
Thy God; and many crooked courses took.
God, who did thee so love, and so esteem;
Who did create thee, and thy life redeem;
Thou hast fo
•
gotten: yea, r
•
jected him,
And, sought those gods, thy Father did contemn
His Counsels, and his law, thou hast despised;
Na
•
, unto Devi
•
ls, thou has
•
sac
•
ificed;
And, them and t
•
ine own
•
ust
•
, preferred before
His honor, whom
•
hou shou
•
dst have prized more.
The corn, and oil
•
& wine which thou enjoyedst
As tokens of his love, thou mis
•
imployedst.
The jewel
•
he vouchsa
•
ed to adorn thee,
(For his own pleasure) thou on those th
•
t scorn thee
Bestowst agai
•
e▪ The beauty which he gave,
That he the more delight in the
•
might have▪
Thou ba
•
ely p
•
ostitutest unto those
That a
•
e thy lust
•
ull
woo
•
rs,
and his
foes
▪
Thy
Vines
like
••
ose of
Sodom
are become,
Even like those plants, that are derived from
Gommorrah's
Vineyard; and their Clusters all
Ar
•
sour; or else, more bitter, far, then gall.
Thy Wi
•
e is
Dragons
poison: yea, thou hast
In all thy pleasant things, a loathsome taste.
But, thus in gross, why should I l
•
nger sp
•
nd
My time, thy wickedness
•
to reprehend?
Since thou art impudent, and hast the face,
To make of the
•
e upbraidings my disgrace?
In my next
Canto's
therefore, I will prefer
Of thy
Transgr
•
ssions
a
PERTICVLER,
So du
•
y urged; that none shall justly say
I utter what I should not open lay:
Or th
••
my
Verse
doth brand t
•
ee with a crime,
Whereof their lives not witness all this time.
Observe it; and if ought I mention here,
N
•
t fitly
•
poken t
•
the public
•
are;
O
•
if, but in a word, I wrong thee shall;
Me to the most impartial c
•
nsure call▪
L
•
t my good purp
•
s
•
s be punished more,
And pitied▪ also less then heretofore.
L
•
t me of all thy chil
•
ren be reviled;
Fro
•
thy most pleasa
•
t
Bord
•
rs
live exiled:
And n
•
ver be recalled. But, if I tell
What thy best Lovers shall app
•
ove of well.
I
•
Truth
I utter; and such Truth as is
To be discl
•
s'd: then ma
•
ke what's found amiss.
Amend thine errors▪ Le
•
thy folly cease.
Love him, that loves unfeignedly thy peace.
At least, despite him not. But, if thou do,
Yet he will serve thee still, and love th
•
e too:
Thy w
•
l
•
are rather then his own prefer:
And, leave this
Bo
•
ke
for thy REMEMBRANCER.
The sixth Canto.
The
Poet
(wei
•
hing w
•
ll his
War
•
ant)
Goes on with his enjoined
Arrant.
I
•
partially he doth relate
This
Island
•
good and bad estate.
What s
•
v'rall sins in her have place;
How gross they are; how they
•
ncr
•
ase,
He also t
•
ls: and, then he sn
•
w
•
s
That nor the
Gentiles,
nor the
Jews,
We
•
e ch
•
ck'd, or pl
•
gu
•
d for any Crimes,
Which are not reigning in th
•
se times.
N
•
xt
•
hat, he boldly doth reprove
•
he course in which ou
•
Nobles
•
ove;
Derides their folly, blames th
•
ir sin,
And warns what dan
•
ers we are in.
Ou
•
G
•
ntry
then he repr
•
hends;
Their foolish humors dis
••
n m
•
nds;
And (having brought them to their sights)
Upon the guilty
Clergy
lig
•
ts;
On
Lawyers
that abuse the Laws,
On
Officers,
and on the Cause
Of most Corruptions: Last of all
On some enormities doth fall
Which are in
Court
and
City
found;
And runs this
Canto,
there, aground.
BVt, am I well a
•
vis'd? and do I know
From whence, & from what
Spirit
this doth flow?
Do I remember what, and who I am,
That I this famous
Monarchy
should blame?
Am I assured no ill-suggesting
Spirit
(In hatred of thine honou
•
able merit)
Seduceth me (oh
Britain)
that I might
Become an instrument of his despite?
Have I considered of what esteem
Thou art? How great thy Piety doth seem?
What glorious titles, and trans
•
endent stiles
Thou
•
ast obtained above all other
Isles?
What attributes unto thyself thou givest?
What of thine own perfections thou believest?
And what thy fl
•
ttri
•
g
Priests
and
Prophets
say
O
•
thy admired happ
•
nesse this day?
Yes, yes; all this I ponder'd, and I know
What g
•
o
•
or evil
•
rom this act may flow.
I am not ignorant, th
•
t thou hast been
Among the n
••
ghb'ring Countries as a
Queen,
Among
•
er Ladies▪ Fo
•
mes of Government,
O
•
Laws, or Custom
•
s through Earths Continent,
A
•
e no
•
e
•
eceived that more pious be,
Or mo
•
e upright then those t
•
at are in thee.
Among fai
•
e
Zion's
Daughter
•
, none doth sit
M
••
e free f
•
om blemishes (the
•
t
•
ou art yet)
In points of Ch
•
istian Doctrine (though there are
Some, who that simplenesse begin to mar)
No people doth retain a
Dis
•
ipline
More
Ap
•
sto
••
c
•
ll,
•
hen some of thine.
No
Church
that's visible, hath kept more pure
The grounds of
Faith,
nor countenanced fewer
Of
Rome's
innumerable
Superstiti
••
s
;
Of usel
•
sse,
•
r of burdensome
Tr
•
ditions,
Then thou ha
•
t lately done. I feel thou hast
Some warmth yet left. As yet, so brazen-faced
Thou
•
rt not grown, but that thou dost despise
Notorious C
•
imes, and open
Heresies
;
Because the hidden
Leaven
of t
•
y sin
To sour the Lump, is (yet) but new put in.
I
•
le do thee right, and give thee all thy due,
Before thy follies further I pu
•
sue.
I know that thou with
patience
heretofore
(Even like the Church at
Ephesus)
hast bo
•
e
Thy Christian Labors; t
•
at, thou hast been moved
Against offenders; that, thou such hast proved,
Who fa
•
seely did
•
ffirme themselves to be
Apostles
; and, strong
•
aith was found in thee.
Yea,
•
hou didst long those heresies resist,
Which God abhorreth; and
•
idst th
•
m detest.
I know▪ that like the
Smyrnian
Congregation
Thou h
•
st through pove
•
ty and tribulation,
Got heav'nl
•
Riches: neither didst thou fear,
When they, who of the Church of
Satan
were,
Blasphem'd the T
•
uth, and did themselves profess
True
Isra'lites,
when they were nothing less.
I know, that when
•
hy Lot it was to dwell
Like
Pergamos,
even where the throne of
Hell
Erected was (and in their bloody Rain,
By whom so many
Martyrs
here were slain)
Thou didst not then the Faith of
Christ
deny,
Not from professing of his
Gospel
fly.
I know, that
Thyatira
-like thy love,
And t
•
y devotion did unfeigned prove;
And that thy piety, and righteousness,
Did (for a season) more and more increase.
I know, thy goodness i
•
not quite bereft,
But that (like
Sardis)
thou some
Names
hast left
That walk with
Christ,
from all pollution free,
In those white Garments that unspotted be.
I know, that like the Church of
Philadelph,
Thou hast a little strength within thy sel
•
e:
God's word, and holy Sacraments yet are
(As pledges of his love) preserved here.
An
•
I do know, that, sin
•
e thou heretofore
Didst love the Truth; God will his Grace restore,
On thy repentance; and in all temp
•
ation
Become thy sole-sufficient preservation;
Yea make all them, who now false boasters be
Of true Religion, to subscribe to thee;
Confess he loves thee; and to thee hath given
That
Ci
•
ies
title, th
•
t came down from heaven.
But, much is, yet, amiss
•
; and (to prev
•
nt
Thy Ruin) I advise thee to r
•
pent.
Remember (oh! remember th
•
u) from when
•
e
Thou fallen
•
rt; and seek by penitence
To
•
se again. Thy former works renew;
Thy lately practice'd wi
•
kednesse esc
•
ew;
What th
•
u hast lost,
•
nde
•
vor to regain,
Hold
•
ast that
Faith
which yet thou dost retai
•
e;
Awake, and use thine utmost pow'rs, to cherish
Those Graces, which in thee are like to perish.
O
•
! do it speedil
•
, whilst he doth knock
Tha
•
ope
•
th
•
do
•
e, which no man can unlock,
And shuts, where none doth open: yea (lest he
Come suddenly, and take away from thee
Thy precious
Candlestick)
renew thy zeal;
And unto him thy sin, betimes, reveal.
Mark, to the Churches, what the
Sp
•
rit
saith;
And purchase thou of
Christ
(by lively faith)
To make thee rich, gold t
•
yed in the fire.
To hide thy filthy nakedness, desire
The pure white
••
yment of his Righteousness.
Thy former sight, tha
•
thou mayest reposs
•
sse,
His
eye salve
take: The conquest strive to get,
That of the hidden
Manna
thou mayest eat;
And g
•
ine the
Stone
inscribed with a
Name,
Which none can know, but he that wea
•
es the same▪
For, I must tell thee, thou art run astray,
And (like a whorish wife) hast cast away
Thy old affection: thy fi
•
st-love is gone,
An
•
other friends thy heart hath doted on.
Thou
•
st not halse that zeal, which thou hast bore
To thy
Redeemers
honor heretofore;
That simplenesse, thou h
•
st not in thy works;
Put, base d
•
ss
•
m
•
ling in thine actions lurks.
Some Doctrines also are in thee professed,
Without
•
eproofe, which God doth much detest.
Thou dost let go unpunished in thee,
Those persons that notorious sinners be,
And impudently wicked: thou makest light
Of their misdeeds, in virtuous men's despite.
Thou hast conniv'd at those, who in the Land
Have with an high, and an imperious hand
(Like
Jezebel
) oppressed, and bereav'n
Thou poor man's portion, in contempt of Heaven.
Thou hast blasphemers, who d
•
e falsely say,
That they are
Catholics,
(and none but they)
Yet, if they heeded what their words imply,
Their own
Distinction
give
•
s themselves the Lye.
The
Babylonish
Strumpet thou (as yet)
Within
••
y territories dost permit▪
Who doth s
•
duce God's people, and thy N
••
ions;
And make them drunken with her
Fornications.
Tho hast those
Hypocrites
that make a show
Of zeal
••
s hearts, when they are nothing so.
T
•
ou hast those
B
•
alamites
▪ that in the way
Of weak Prof
•
ss
•
rs, stumbling blocks do lay:
And pra
•
tise cunning slei
•
ht
•
o
•
policy,
To bring thee b
••
ke unto
Idolatry.
To trouble and di
•
tract thee▪ they invent
St
•
ange qu
•
stions, dou
•
tfull, and impertinent.
By needless provings, by their vain confuting
•
,
By over nice distinctions, and disp
•
ting
•
,
And by their multitudes of windy notions,
They have so in
•
orrupted thy devotions,
So over whelm'd thy Fait
•
; so tired out
Thy knowledge, (with still running round about)
That there is left but lit
•
le care in thee,
How much decayed thy
good manners
b
•
.
Indeed, of thy lost Virtues, there's a
Fame
Remaining still; and thou hast yet a
Name
To be alive; but, some do greatly fear
That thou art either d
••
d▪ or very near.
Though
Laodicea
like thou proudly vauntest,
That rich thou art, and that thou nothing want
•
st:
Though thou art h
•
ppy in thine own esteem,
And dost to thine own s
•
lfe quick-sighted seem:
Yet, were thy
Judgment
cleared, thou wouldst find
That thou art wretched, naked, poor, and blind.
Thou dost almost that lukewarm temper hold,
Which neither can be termed hot, nor cold.
Thy wi
•
kednesse is (well near) grown as ripe,
As hers, that served for thy Prototype.
Nay, God's great
Volume
mentions not a sin,
Wherewith or place, o
•
person, taxed hath been,
But thou hast practice'd it; and of thine own
Host added others, to those times unknown.
With our first
Parents,
there are some in thee▪
Who
•
trive to eat of God's forbid
•
n tree;
And have upon them such an itch to know
Those t
•
ing
•
which he v
•
uchsafeth not to show:
That, from their eyes true wis
•
dome it hath hid,
And m
•
re en
•
ang r'd them, then
Ad
•
m
did.
Thou hast a brood of
Cainites,
that envi
•
s
Their bre
•
hrens better pleasing sacrifice;
And pe
•
secut
•
s, and slanders, (what it may)
All those that walk not in their wi
•
ked way:
And th
•
rst with greediness to shed t
•
eir blood,
Who seek their safeties, and effect their good.
There be, am
•
ng thee, some just like that Race,
Who (being made the
So
•
nes of God,
by G
•
ace)
Did with man's female issue fall in love;
And these beget a mongrel brood, that prove
The
Giants
of their times; and, those, that will
The measure of the worlds misdeeds fulfill.
They (as those careless people did, on whom
An universal
Deluge
once did come)
Eate, drink, and take their pleasure, without care,
How many or how great their follies are.
And, though a Judgment on their head is poured,
They will not heed it, till they are devoured.
As soon as any
Pla
•
ue
from us is gone,
We build and plant, and in our sins run on:
Or when (with
Noah
) blessings we have had,
(In st
•
ad of being in God's favor glad)
We do in some vain mi
•
th bewray our folly;
I
•
drunken feastings, or in games unholy.
Since out of beastly
Sodom
they were got,
Thy Children have among themselves (like
Lot)
Committed much uncleanness; whence proceeds
A Race, which discord in thy borders breeds.
Like
Laban,
many wickedly detain
The workmans hire; and make unlawful gain
From their own Children. Some (with
Isma
•
l
)
Are bitter mockers; some (with
Esau
) sell
Their heavenly Birth-rights: & for what d'ye think?
For worse then porridge▪ even for smoke and slinke.
We hav
•
a
•
m
•
g
•
ty
Hunters
(nowadays)
As
Nimrod,
and as willful in their ways.
Som
•
, of their brethren merchandizes make,
Li
•
e
Jacob's Sons,
and money for them take.
With
Simeon,
and with
Levi
; some, pretend
Religio
•
s
cause; when for some other end
They do proj
•
ct: and, m
••
kes of holy zeal
Do often bloody cruelties conceal.
For wives, for wealth▪ and for our vai
•
e d
•
lights,
We change
Religio
•
,
like the
Shechemites
▪
We have those Judges, who will (
Judah
-like)
Their brother, for his fault severely strike;
Deride, taunt, censure, and without compassion,
To death condemn him, for the same transgression
Which they are far more guilty o
•
then he:
And, those the
Plague-sores
of this
Island
be.
We have in either sex, of those that are
As wicked as the wife of
Potiphar.
Even those, who so will slander, and accuse;
If any to obey their lust refuse.
Like
Er
and
On
•
n,
we have wicked heirs,
Who rather would consume themselves, and theirs,
In fruitless▪ vanities, then part from ought
By which their brothers welfare might be wrought▪
With
Phar'oh,
we God's judgments do contemn▪
And grow the bolder, and the worse by them.
When he most plagued us, we most presumed;
And sinned most, when we were most consumed.
Nor
•
lood, nor frogs, nor loathsome lice, nor flies,
Nor murraines, biles, nor botches can suffice
To make our Nations their bad lives reform;
Nor Locusts, nor the leaf-devouring worm;
Nor horrid darkness, liable to sense,
Nor Hail, nor Thunders, nor the Pestilence;
Nor bringing us to sp
•
ings that bitter are;
Nor sweetening those things that unsav'ry were;
Nor strange deliv'rances by sea and land;
Nor God's protecting us with his own hand;
Nor Q
•
ails, nor
Manna,
(blessings which be rare)
Nor favou
•
s which more ordinary are:
No, nor God's dreadful Anger, nor his Love,
Can our hard hearts unto repentance move;
But, we (l
•
ke
Aegyp
•
)
in rebellion be,
And, full as faithless as the
Jews,
are we▪
Among us, we have wealthy men, who may
W
•
ole Groves dispend; yet on the
Sabbath
day
They'll gather sticks. Even to the Devil, some
With no less worthy sacrifices come,
Then sons and daughters. For, what less do they
Who them in wedlock wickedly betray
To open
Heretics?
Or, they that make
Their mar'ages, fo
•
wealth, and hor
•
ors sake,
Without affection? And (I pray) what less
Do they, who force their children to profess
Vnlawfull trades? There be among us, living,
Too many, that, even whilst the
Law
is giving,
Do
•
set up golden-calves. Such men are they,
Who in the
Church,
or on God's
Holiday,
Are plodding on the world; while
•
t they should bend
Their ears to God, and on his will attend.
We have (our best proceedings to withstand)
A
Jannes,
and
•
amb
•
es
in t
•
e Land,
Who (by their
•
orceries) continue shall
Some people of this M
•
narchy in
•
hrall:
Until a Plague (like
Ae
•
ypts
•
owsinesse)
Shall make them God Almighty, power confess.
Young
Vadab
•
and
A
••
h
•
es,
we have some,
That with strange fires unto Go
•
s altars come:
T
••
ir dull devotions kindled are with sticks,
And withered leaves of human Rhetoricks;
They offer up to God, their vain
Orations,
Compos'd of
Cli
•
bings,
and
Adnominations
;
Which he abhor
•
es; with all that frothy stuff,
Of which this age hat
•
more then thrice enough.
Our b
•
ethren by extortion we oppress:
True st
•
ange
•
, (nay, our kin) are harbou
•
less;
And those o
•
fences we have
Patrons
for,
Which many Heathen p
•
ople did abhor.
With
Miriam
and with
Laron,
we have such,
Who at their
〈…〉
preferment grutch;
Hot spirits, trouble
•
om
•
to civil states;
Like
C
•
rah
•
nd his rude confederates.
These a
•
gue mach for p
•
p'lar p
•
rities,
And rail upo
•
all civil di
••
iti
•
s;
But▪ when they can attain the
•
, none speak louder
In their de
•
ence; nor are there any prouder.
We Gallants have mo
•
e imp
•
dent, then e're,
Yong
Z
•
nri,
and his
Caz
•
i
did appear:
And doubtl
•
sse we have
〈◊〉
who
••
ve hidden
Some
Babylonish
things which are forbidden.
For all the Land much troubled we may see;
And many think, it shall not quiet be,
Till they be found.
Reveale thou their transgressions,
O Lord! and be thou praised in their confessions.
We have, this day, amongst us, many a
Bramble,
That, like
Abimelech,
knows how to scramble
Abov
•
their own deservings: and (though base
Vnworthy
•
hrubs) durst arrogate a place
More eminent, then dares the noblest Plant,
Whereof the Mountain
Libanus
doth vaunt.
By others vert
•
es these ascend on high,
And raise themselves to such authority,
That our most noble
Cedars
are over-topt;
Our pleasant
Fig trees,
are b
•
scratched and dropt▪
Our
Vines
are shadow'd, and unfruitful made;
Our
Olives
robbed of that oil they had;
Yea, all our forest and our garden trees,
By their ambition, fruit, or honor, leese.
Thou nourished hast, and fondly doted on
Those cunning
Delilah's,
who having won
Thy good respect, do practice how to spy
Wherein the chiefest of our strength doth lie;
That (having by their flatt'ries lulled asleep
Those watchmēs eyes that should our fortress keep)
They may (unheeded) steal our power away,
And to our greatest Foes our lives betray.
Here want not such as
Michah,
who with ease
Can make a new
Religion
when they please;
Coine
•
ormes of worship proper to their
Sect
;
A private Church among themselves erect;
Make
Priests
at their own pleasure; furnish them
Even with their own new-fangled
Teraphim
;
And preach abroad for good Divin
•
ty,
The tumours of their windy fantasie:
Nay, some of them far stranger things can do;
For, they can make their
gods,
and eat them too.
There be of us, as willful Favorites
Of wicked men, as were the
Benjami
•
es
;
And, rather then we will deliver
•
hem
To feel the stroke of Justice, who contemn
The ways of goodness; we will h
•
zardize
Our peace, our fame, and our posterities.
We have those Prophets, who (with
Balaam
) know
God's pleasure, and what way they ought to go:
And, yet, will for preferment do their best,
That they his plain revealed
Will
may wrest.
And though they are, perhaps, ashamed to say
Their minds in public, closely they'll betray
The Lord's inheritance; and Scripture proof
Inferre for all things to their own behoove.
If of the pop'lar faction these become,
And think some gain may be achieved from
That side; God's word they will produce for those
That would disloyally their
King
oppose:
If by the
Prince
advantage may be had,
Then, God himself an instrum
•
nt is made
To warrantize their claims; an
•
, Tyranny,
Sh
•
ll pr
•
ved be a lawful
M
•
narchy.
As rash as
Iephth
•
,
in our vows are we;
As
Ehu
•
s
gift, such oft our presents be.
In ent
•
rtainments, some like
Jael
are;
And, in their complements may well compare
W
•
th bloody
Ioa
•
:
for, they make their table
Become a snare: and (when most serviceable
They do appear) unheeded, they unsheath
So
•
e fat
•
ll instru
•
ent, t
•
at wounds to death.
Like old indulgent
Eli,
some connive
At all the sins, in which the
•
r children live:
Nay, glory in their lewdness; and maintain
In them those follies, which they should restrain;
Till their own shame, and their undoing follows,
And their wild brood be tamed at the Gallows.
Nor were the sons of
Eli,
heretofore
More wanton at the
Tabernacle
door,
Then some young Priests of ours; whom to correct,
The
Fathers
of our
Church
so much neglect,
That if they long connive as they have done,
The glory of our
Israel
will be gone.
Like those
Philistines,
whose advice it was
To fixe
God
's Ark, and
Dagon,
in one place,
We have too many; and, they cannot see,
Why
God
and
Baal
in one, should not agree.
But, when they raise their
I
•
ol
in these Lands,
Lord,
let it fall, and lose both head and hands.
We are as cur
•
ous as the
B
•
thsh
•
mites,
And long as much to see forbidden sights:
Like those of
Ekron,
we profess to know
The truest Go
•
, and whence our troubles grow:
Yet, are so stupid, that we sleight his Grace,
And, send him from us, to another place.
Yea, like the
Gadarenes,
we for our Sw
•
ne,
Would banish
Christ,
and sleight his love divine:
Wi
•
h
Saul,
we do neglect what should be done▪
And sacrifice, when God requireth none.
Fat Sheep and Oxen were prefer before
O
•
edience to the Lord; and follow more
Our wills then his. When God saith
kill,
we spare,
And where he bi
•
s,
be kind,
we cruel are.
No love, no kindness, no sincerity,
No tokens of unfeigned piety
Can stay our furies, or divert our mind.
When we are once maliciously inclined.
Goliath
like, God's army some contemn;
With
R
•
bsh
•
k
•
h,
some others do blaspheme;
Some curse (w
•
th
Shimei
) God's best beloved;
As causelessly, to
•
rieve them they are moved,
And are of gain as greedy. For, if they
Have but an us
••
sse
Groome
escaped away,
(O
•
lost a beast) for such a petty prize,
They will not stick their l
•
ves to haza
•
dize.
We have those
Michols,
which will scoff & flou
•
At such as are mo
••
zealously devout.
We have those dog-like
Doeg's
in our Courts,
That gladly hear and utte
•
all reports,
To disadvanta
•
e them, whose ways a
•
e pure,
And cannot their impieties endure.
We have those
Nabal's,
upon whom all cost,
All curtefies, and kindnesses a
•
e lost.
We have (like
Uzzah
) those that dare to touch
God's holy Ark. Nay, we have worse then such,
Even those that rob it; and themselves adorn
With Jewels, from the
San
•
tuary
torn.
With
David,
some have thought their sins to hide▪
And, their
Adulteries,
in
Murder
died.
Officiou
•
knaves (like
Ziba
) we have some,
Who by their
Masters
falls, to gre
•
tnesse come;
And (though they did men inno
•
ent betray)
Without reproving, they do pass away.
We have those wicked
A
•
mons,
who defile
Their sisters. And, to lay a cunning wile
For helping their companions to a drab,
We have more subtle Bauds then
•
onadab.
Those disobedient
Absolom's
there be
Among us
•
ere
•
t at wish and seek to see
Their Parents dea
•
hs; like him they can conceal
Their ends, till they (by fair dissembling) steal
Men's he
•
ts away; and then abuse them so,
That all seems just and honest which they do.
We have
Ahithophel's,
that are a
•
wise
Against God's honor, projects to devise,
As if the
Delphian
Oracle were sought:
But, still in their own pit-falls they are caught.
For, he that honest purposes doth bless,
Conve
•
ts their wisdom into foolishness.
We have with
Solomon
(though none so wise)
Men won by women to Idolatries.
With
Jeroboam,
we have those who strive
A settled temp'rall fortune to contrive
By ruining
Religion
; and to win
An outward peace, by tolerating sin:
Not heeding, that a greatness so procured,
Hath seldom to a third descent endured.
To serve an Idol we like him proceed,
Although God's Messengers reprove the deed.
And though our arm be withered, for our sin,
Our obstinacies we continue in.
We want not
Re
•
oboams
Counselors,
Whose unexperienc'd
Policy
prefers
H
•
rsh courses, rather then a calm proceeding;
When times are troublesome, & dangers breeding.
We have (with
Ahab
) those who covet so
Their neighbors Vineyard, that they f
•
llen grow,
And can nor eat, nor sleep, till they may plot,
How their ungodly longings may be got:
And we have
Jezebels
enough, to further
Their claims by slanders, perjury, and murder.
Nor want such
Elders,
and such
Nobles
here,
As those that Citizens with
Naboth
were.
For should (as God forbid) our hopeful
King,
Desire to compass any lawless thing,
Or seek his loyal
Subjects
to bereave
Of what their
Ancestors
to them did leave:
We have of those (I doubt) that would effect it
According to their power: nay, project it,
And urge him, and persuade him, that (of right)
He overthrow their lawful freedoms might.
We have of those (I fear) that would command
A Fast (like
Iez
•
bells
) throughout the Land,
And underneath a mask of Piety,
Proceed to practice any Villany,
Which might advance their greatness: and, I doubt
Some
Priests
would help to set the project out.
Yea, we those
Iud
•
es,
and those
Elders
have,
That if a man his neighbors Vineyard crave,
He need not, for his purpose, name the King,
Or Letters from the royal
Signet
bring
To move the same: Nor were it necessary
That (to corrupt them) he Epistles carry
From some g
•
eat Lord's. For, if he can but make
The tongues of golden Angels for him speak;
Or get someone, on his behalf to write,
That is but servant to a
Favorite
;
The deed is done: and they will feel no sense
Of others griefs▪ or o
•
their own offense.
We have such Prophets a
•
Zidkiah
was,
Who are no whit ashamed, in public place,
To speak fall
•
e messages; and those to smite,
Tha
•
in God's name have spoken what is right.
We have
Gehezies
; fellows that will take
Vnlawfull bribes▪ even those who sale do make
Of what their
Maste
•
s
should have, gratis, done;
And force out fees, where they can challenge none.
Gehezies
did I call this crew? I fea
•
e
I wrong the Leper: for his brib'ri
•
s were
Put petty pillages, to those rich preys,
On which someone of these his fingers lays.
He asked, and had a willing gratulation,
From one both rich, and of another Nation:
•
ut, these extor
•
, compel
•
, and still
•
serve
Unjust demandings, as a lawful due.
From friends, from strangers, from both poor & rich
Their fingers to be scraping have an itch.
For making their poor suitor, wait and pray,
(When they might have dispatched him) he must pay.
For surly speeches, and for proud neglect,
They must be humoured with all respect.
When to their
•
lient,
they a w
•
ong have done,
He must not seem to know or think
•
hereon;
But, fain all noble thoughts of them to have,
Or, in some other persons call them knave▪
And bribe them still, in hope they may be won,
Yet, at the last, be cheated and undone.
We have among us, men as very fools
As
Na'man
was; who think
Damascus
pools
A
•
good as
Jordan:
and (like him) at home
Some serve one God; and when to
Court
they come,
Professe another. We have those that be
As trustlesse of God's promises, as he,
Who in
Samar
•
a
•
s
gate was trodden on:
These may behold the favors which are done
To faithful men; but, till they can believe,
They shall not taste what blessings those receive.
Here be like
Haz'el,
those who seem to hate
All tyrannizing, in their low estate;
Yet, being once promoted, throw aside
All pity; and all piety deride.
Yea, that which form
•
lie they did condemn,
(As vilifying, and debasing them,
Below a Dogs condition) they allow,
When to their height of
•
reatnesse once they grow.
(If none yet live) we had in former time,
Even those that guilty were of
Zimries
c
•
ime.
Most
Officers
like
Jehu,
do begin
Good reformation, at first entering in;
Their violent
Zeal
doth seem to say,
Come see,
How just in our proceedings we will be.
But, oft they prove me
•
e
Hypocrites,
who having
Acquired mean
•
to color their deceiving,
Surpasse the worst; and by degrees proceed,
Till they appear the men they were indeed.
Like wicked
Haman
; some, unless they may
Insult and trample on poor
Mordecai,
Are so distempered by their haughty mind,
That they nor pleasure, nor contentment find,
In honors, riches, or in any blessing,
Which they already have in t
•
eir possessing:
But, will pursue, and ruin, if they can,
Whole Kingdoms, for their malice to one Man.
As p
•
oud are we as
Nebuch
•
dnezar:
In feastings, as profuse as
Bal
•
hazar,
And as prop
•
ane as he. We sometime seek
The god of
•
kron, Abaziah
like.
Like
Amiziah
(an informing Priest
Of
Bethel
) we have those that will resist
God's
Messengers
; and would not hear them bring
Into the
Court
or
Chapel
of the King▪
The sound of that reproo
•
e or punishment,
Which to pronounce among us th
•
y we
•
e sent:
And, these, perhaps, wh
•
n they my Arrand see,
Will prove as busy as that
Priest
with me.
But, if they do (as
Amos
sa
•
d to him)
Although I be no Prophet, nor of them
That are the sons of Prophets; God doth know
He called me to thi
•
(which now I do)
From viler actions, then from gathering fruit,
Or foll'wing herds:
And I will make pursuit
Of what he b
•
ds me; though o
•
pos'd I stand,
By all the
Priests
and
Prelates
in the Land.
And if they contradict, what well is done
Their heads, at last, the sh
•
me shall light upon.
Some
•
ourtiers now, like
Daniel's
foes, there are,
That wi
•
l object as things piacular,
The truest
Piety
; and s
•
eke to bring
Even those to be suspected of the Ki
•
g,
Who strive most loyally, to keep his
Name
In honor; and his
Kingdom
without blame.
As
Judah
had (in
Zephaniahs
times)
Her Priests of
Baal
; the name of
Chemarims
;
Those, who the heavenly army did adore;
Those also, who by
God,
and
Mal
••
om,
swore;
And multitudes among them, who did wear
Fantastick
Habits:
So, we harbor here
Some
Shavelings
yet; some
Romish superstitions
;
To
Saints
we offer up some vain petitions;
Equivocating
Oaths
we often take;
And, we ourselves, in our apparel, make
Deformed, by a skittish imitation
Of every new-found guise, in every Nation.
I do not think (nor have I ever thought)
That in it self it is material ought,
What shaped Robes I wear: nor do I hold
That any
Fashion,
whether new or old,
Doth so much handsome or disfigure any,
As it may seem to do, perchance, to many.
It is the
Time,
or else their minds, that wear
Such clothes, which make them good or bad appear.
Those fools who bring new fashions first; and they
That hast to follow them (and think it gay
And generous) are those unworthy ones,
That bring such folly, shame, and cost upon's.
But, when those
Garbs
grow general; then, we
That first abhorred them, compelled be
To take them up: lest our old clothes be thought
New fashions from some foreign kingdoms brought:
Or, lest we should
•
d by some be thought to err,
In being over nice, and singular.
Most other people, both at home, and here,
Do in their habits, like themselves appear:
But, wheresoe're we come, we change our shapes,
And, in our gestures, are all N
•
tions Apes.
True gravity, we so are fallen from,
And, so absurdly blockish are become;
That, strangers jeer us, to behold how soon
We get the garb of every fond
Baboon.
Yea, they are proud, to see that we condemn
Ou
•
o
•
ne attires, by imitating them.
And I do blush to think, that our whole Nation
Should of it self admit a transformation,
So suddenly (as oftentimes we see)
To imitate the guise of two or three.
But, so it is: And at this present ti
•
e,
Our female Gentry is so frenchifi'd;
That we have scarce a Gentlewoman now,
In clothes, more handsome bodied then a Cow.
Those women who e're while were goodly creatures,
Proportion having, and (me thought) sweet features;
Do look as triple-body'd
Gerion
did,
When they in their mis shapen gowns are hid:
For, either arm, in such a mould is cast,
As makes it full as fulsome as their waste.
Their necks stand sneaking out, before those rustes,
Which lie behind their backs with wide mouthed puss
As doth a peeled Ewes, whose fleece unshorne,
Was from about her neck with brambles torn.
Their flaring cu
•
les about their shag-shorn brows,
Do, of the fairest Lady, make a blouse.
Those demy-skarfes, they wreathe about their chaps,
(Which may be comely to some
•
eyes, perhaps)
Do make them seem as Antick-like to me,
As
Hag
•
,
that sent to fright young children be.
And I am sory, that a foolish pride
Should make our
Beauties
their perfections hide
In such a masking suit. And that a few
Fantastick women, so great numbers drew
To follow their new-fangles; and besot
Their judgments, by that fashion newly got.
For, not mean wits alone; but, of the wisest;
(Nay, of the most religious, and precisest)
There are great multitudes befooled in this:
And,
She,
that of that
Guise
their
Pattern
is,
(Perhaps) derides their fickleness. For she
Is from their mind, and from their folly free.
Nought, but her count
•
y fashion, she hath worn:
And, that which them deforms, do
•
h her adorn.
Yea, they have either missed o
•
her dress:
Or else she gives it much more loveliness,
For to my eye there is some excellence
Which puts towixt her and th
•
m much difference▪
And this opinion is not mine alone:
For▪ so much hath been said by many a one.
Oh! show the sweetness of your disposition,
In hearing me, and granting my petition.
Lay off your strange attires, that we may know
If you be Englishwomen, yea or no.
Your monstrous habit, each true
Britain
loathes;
And, were your bodies formed like your clothes,
(Which, God in
Justice,
may effect, perchance)
You might go seek your fortunes out in
France,
From whence your new prop
•
rt
•
on hither came:
For, we shall never truly love the same.
Because, if other men have thoughts like mine,
It would appear to be some fatal sign,
To see our women leave th
•
ir native fashion,
And, turn themselves into another
Nation.
But, let these
Females
go I hope that she
Who shall be mine (if any such the
•
e be)
What ever accident or change be
•
alls,
Will still retain her
English
na
•
urals.
More bl
•
me then this might in this kind be laid
On women: but, unwillingly I said
What here is uttred. And, if they had been
In those attires that I have seen them in,
I had not on this over-sight reflected;
But, left them to be counsel'd and directed
By their near Friends or Husbands. Yet, ala
•
!
We have of them, whose levity doth pass
The
•
icklenesse of these: and, they alone
Are oft the cause, that th
•
se have so misgone.
Nor ever did this folly more appear,
Then now it doth;
•
v'n in this very year,
Where
•
n the
Pestilence
devoured so:
And, as that
Plague
de
•
reased, this did grow.
But, in
Trans
•
ressions,
how we parallel
The times before, I will proceed to tell.
High-priest
have we, who send ou
•
spies to watch
T
•
e Preachers of God's word; and pick, and catch
Advantages against th
•
m. Some of us
Are like the
Silver-smiths
at
Ephesus,
And, for their private lucre will contend
Against the Truth, and Heresies defend.
We,
Demas
like, have those Apostates,
Who, for the world, forsake the Christian cause.
And, some there be, that with
Diotrophes,
Affect preeminence in these our days.
Some, like the
Scribes
and
Pharisees
do rinse
The Cup without; but, have no care to cleanse
The loathsome inside. Some, have arrogated
Such
Holiness,
that they are separated
From others, as a spotless
Congregation,
That is without all blame, or profanation.
Some, like to those, their Brethren d
•
s
•
espect:
And, lo
•
dly titles over-much affect,
As did the
Jewish Rabbies.
Some, as they
On others backs uneasy burdens lay:
Which they themselves, to carry do refuse.
The
Orphan,
and the
Widow,
some abuse,
By shows of piety. And, we have some,
In tything Anniseed, and Mint, become
Exceeding zealous: yet, have neither care
Nor conscience, in those things that weighty are.
We have our sev'rall
Brotherhoods
of those,
Who seriously do Sea and Land enclose,
(And practice, by a multitude of sleights)
To win unto their
Sects
new
p
•
oselites:
Not out of love to Truth, or Charity,
But ra
•
her to advance their Heresy.
Who ever all their crotchets doth embrace,
Is instantly become the child of
Grace,
(In their opinions) whatsoever he
In other points, or in his manners be.
Bu
•
whosoe're he be that shall despise,
One branch of any toy, which they devise,
Is judged a
Reprobate.
Yea, though in all
The grounds of
Faith,
and in his works he shall
Appeare unblemished; they will contemn
His judgment; and traduce and censure him.
Yea, some of those there be who have des
•
ride
A trick to know who are unsanctifide;
Though they have all the ma
•
kes of holin
•
sse.
Nay, some a
•
e not ashamed to confess,
To know what persons those hid ma
•
ks do bear,
W
•
ich known to no men but their wearers are.
Like
Ananias,
and
Sapphira,
here
Are they that holy
Brethren
do
•
appear,
Yet want sin
•
erity. And, I could tell y
•
Of
Multitudes,
who merely for their belly,
Do follow
Christ.
With
Herod,
we have such
Who hear m
•
n gladly, till those Crimes they touch
Which are their
Darlings
: But, then mad they grow,
And what they truly are, they truly show.
Like
Dives,
we have those that every day
Are fed with dainties; clothed with rich array,
And, full as merciless unto the poor,
That lie uncloth'd, and hungry at the door.
We have a rattle-brained and willful
Crew,
That with a purblind zeal the
Truth
pursue:
And would be found, were not their pow'
•
so small,
More bloody, and more violent th
•
n
Paul,
Before his name wa
•
c
•
anged: for, they tear
That Robe, whereof they do proof
•
se a care.
We have those
Nobles,
who with
Felix,
can
Confess the inn
•
cency of a m
•
n
Accus'd before them; and, yet leave him bound,
If ought to their advant
•
ge may r
•
dound.
We have of those that
parcel Christians
be,
As King
•
grippa.
Othersome have we
That walk for company, th
•
y care not whither;
And, some that sleight Religion alt
•
gether.
Nor want we those, that while th
•
y Christ profess,
Convert his
Graces
into wantonness
•
.
We are almost as wicked as old
Rome
:
Of Heresi
•
s we are as full become,
As
Amsterdam.
Nay, many men have we,
That can of three or
•
our profession
•
be,
(Even all at once) although that every
Sect
Each other doth directly contradict.
We have an
Elimas,
who doth apply
His cunning to pervert the
Depu
•
y:
Like
Simon Magus,
we have
Merchants
here,
That were baptized; and yet without fear,
Dare buy and sell those things that holy be;
And which, by God's donation, s
•
old be f
•
ee.
Nay, in the gall of bitterness they lie,
More deep then he, fr
•
m whom their
Simony
Deriveth name: for, he, in show, repenting,
Did crave the
Churches
prayers for preventing
Of his deserving: whereas, these devise
Quaint arguments▪ their sin to patronize;
Or make it less. Else, by
equivocation,
Or, by
•
heir trick of
m
•
ntall reservation,
They hide thei
•
fault: and (that the s
•
n they do
May grow compl
•
at) themselves they perjure too.
There be, that
Mammon,
for their God, adore:
That make
Christ's
members, members of a whore:
And stained be with those offenses all,
Wher
•
of the
Gentiles
were accused, by
Paul.
We all are guilty of much fraud, debate,
Imp
•
ety, uncleanness, envy, hate,
Backbiting, stealing, pride, maliciousness,
Dissembling, murder, lying, spitefulness,
Truce breaking, disobedience, ignorance,
Implacability, bold arrogance,
Want of affections natural, excess,
Inhumane cruelty, ungratefulnesse:
Blaspheming, swearing; and innumerable
Transgressions more, of
•
hat ungodly rabble:
And, some (when God Almighty poured hath
Upon their heads the
Viols
of his wrath)
Instead of penitence, increase the score
Of their offenses; and, blaspheme the more.
Nay, that we may be partners of thei
•
guilt,
That have the blood of God's
Anointed
spilled,
With
Pilate
and the
Jews,
we have, again,
The
Lord of Life,
both crucified, an
•
slain.
Thou hast, Oh
Britain,
everything misdone,
That
Ashur, Moab, Ammon, Babylon,
Or any Kingdom hath transgressed in,
Which unto Piety a foe hath been.
Of whatsoever
Israel
was detected,
For whatsoever
Judah
was corrected,
Thou mayest be taxed; for, among thy Nation
•
Are daily practice'd their abominations.
Their tricks thou hast, to hinder and oppress,
Those men who tell thee of thy wickedness.
Right so thou dost debase; so slander them:
Right so, their just reproofs thou dost contemn:
And, though their words are daily verifide,
Yet, thou dost always willfully deride
Their admoni
•
ions; and, pass all things by,
As falling on thee but by casualty.
I do believe, and know, that, yet, in thee
Some
Obadiah's,
and some
Ezraes
be.
Some Courtiers, and some Nobles yet remain,
Which do their true Nobility retain:
But, most of them their dignity have lost;
And can of naught but painted Scuch
•
ons boast.
As did of theirs, the Jewish
Prophet
say,
Thy
Princes
do procrassinate the day
Or thy Calamity; and will not hear,
O
•
that affliction which approacheth near:
But, of
Iniquity
they climb the seat;
And, by extortion make their house
•
great.
Their
Palaces,
they feel and trim with gold,
God's
Temples
being ruinously old.
On beds (more precious then of Ivory)
They stretch themselves, and live luxuriously.
The pasture Lambes, and wainlings of the stall,
Suffice not them; but they make prey of all.
Which liveth in the wood, or in the field;
Or which the land, the sea, or air doth yield.
Their lushious wines in precious bowles they quaff
•
▪
While
Joseph
is afflicted, they do laugh;
And sing unto the Vial, wanton strains,
While
Zion
in captivity remains.
They have but little care of God's commands;
They break his yoke, and cast away his bands.
Thy men in honor, without knowledge be,
Like beasts that perish; and, dishonor th
•
e.
Some have aspired to their present heights
Of wealth and greatness, by ignoble sleights:
Of others houses, they have got possession,
And, furnished their chambe
•
s, by oppression.
Their wives and children, waste in brave attire,
The poor man's portion, and the workmans hire.
Their credits they have pawned, to main
•
aine
Their luxury, their pride, or gaming vain.
And, by their
Honors
•
ave so falsely sworn.
That men their Idol, and their oath do scorn.
Some, have so blushlesse and so shameless been,
To let their Coach, and foot-cloth horse, be seen
At common Strumpets doors: their Favorites,
(And they, in whom their Noblenesse delights)
A
•
e gamesters,
•
oarers, persons dissolute,
And such; for unto them such best do suit.
To bold faced Rimers, Iesters, or to those
Who make their Lordships laugh with foolish prose;
To Fence
•
s, Fiddlers, Tumblers, and to such,
W
•
o any way t
•
eir sensual humors touch,
Their hands are prodigal; and these obtain
Rich favors to requite their idle pain.
Their tongues, to speak on their behalf are free;
When questioned for the foulest c
•
imes they be.
(Even fellonies and murthe
•
s) but a
•
e mutes
In virtuous causes, and in honest suits.
When wise and painful men, have spent their wealth,
Their strength consumed, or impaired their health,
In profitable works; and to reveal
Such
•
hings as might advance the public weal;
Their labors (for the most) are over-past
With
•
ut encouragement; sometimes, disgrac
•
d
By arrogant impostors; who arise
To greatn
•
ss
•
, by discrediting the wise;
Or broaching such good projects for their own,
Which were by those men's industry made known,
Whom they have ruined. For, what were some
(That now to places eminent are come)
Before they got aloft on others wines,
But poor unworthy, and ignoble things?
Nay, what (as yet) appear they (unto those
Whose good experience their true value knows)
But gild
•
d ignorance? who having got
The shadows of the substance they have not,
Do pass for men of worth, in their esteeming,
Whom they have cheated, by a cunning seeming.
Admit but some of the
•
e into such place,
Which may afford them privilege or grace,
To speak before their Prince; and you shall hear
Their tongues to run, as if their knowledge were
A
•
great as
Solomon's
; and that of all
The pl
•
nts, even from the
Hyssop
of the wall,
Unto the
Cedar,
they could tell the nature;
And knew the qualities of ev'
•
y creature.
They,
Pro
•
eus
like, will anything appear;
A
Seaman, Ship-wright,
or an
Engin
•
ere,
Or what soe're they list: and having bought
Of some poor Artists; or (some worse way) wrought
Their
project
from them, that they may be shown,
As if the quaint invention were their own:
(And, having gotten also terms of
Art,
To help them in the acting of their part)
To such opinion of themselves they rise,
That men of soundest knowledge they despise;
Deride experience; and, even to their face,
The skill of most approved men disgrace.
M
•
ke these men
Counselors,
and though till then
They knew not half so much as common men,
Nor had the means of knowing anything,
But how to ride a horse, or take the Ring,
Or hunt, or hawk, or caper: yet (behold
A wonder) in a moment they grow old
In State affairs; and nothing doth concern
Or peace o
•
war, which they have need to learn.
If any question be, before these, made,
Of Merchandise; the skillful'st in the trade
Are fools to them; and tis an arrogance
To offer to instruct their ignorance.
If arms be treated of, there's no man knows
By practice, that which th
•
se men can disclose
By contemplation. And though they have seen
No other wars but those at
Mile end green,
Or
Tutle-fields
; great
Mars
himself, of these
May learn to be a
Soldier,
if he please.
If anything concerning
Navigation,
Be tendered to a grave consideration,
These either dare affirm, or to deny
What all the
Masters of the Trinity
Oppos
•
them in; and
Nov
•
ces
would make
Of
H
•
wkings, Frob
•
sh
•
r,
and f
•
mous
Dr
•
ke,
Were they now living. And, y
•
t such a
•
they,
The wreathes of
Honor
soonest bear away.
With empty
Names,
and
Titles,
b
•
ing
•
lowne
Above themselves, they are unwieldy grown;
An
•
g
••
ater in their pride, and in their train,
Then their consume
•
fortunes will maintain.
Which doth compel them, by unworthy ways,
To seek the patching up of their decays:
And, still in their p
•
ofusenesse they proceed,
As if thei
•
pro
••
gality should breed
New fortunes; and, were like those wells that fill,
And grow the purer, by exhausting still.
In feasts, apparel, furniture, and things
Of such like nature, m
•
ny Christian
Kings,
To equal them shall find it much to do:
But, them they cannot very far outgoe,
Unless they mean to draine their fountains dry,
With Fools, in prodigality, to vie.
Hence comes it, that the Rents and Royalties
Of
Kings
and
Princes,
which did well suffice
In former times, to keep in comely port
An honor'd, and an hospitable
Cou
•
t,
(Yea, and an Army if occasion were)
Can hardly now the charge of household bear▪
For, they must either in their large expe
•
ce,
Come short of that p
•
ofuse magnificence
Among thei
•
Vassals
: o
•
else waste away
The price of many
Lordsh
•
ps,
to defray
The cost of one vain supper; and, from this,
With other such like things, grows all am
•
sse.
For, one exc
•
sse another still produces;
One Fool out-vies his fellow Fools abuses;
Vnt
•
ll their wealth, and hop
•
s, and reputation,
Be wasted in a witn
•
sse emulation:
Not heeding what is taught them in the
Fable,
That when a
Toad
hath sweld while he i
•
•
ble,
An
Ox
is bigger, and with ease can smite
His pride to nothing when it is at heig
•
t.
This over la
•
ge profuseness, they are fain
By many evil cou
•
ses to maintain:
By bribery, by g
•
iping, by the sale
Of
Justice
yea of
Consci
•
nce,
and of all
That may be sold for money. From hence springs
Deceiving, and misleading of good
Kings.
This makes their
Treasuries
to ebb so low;
This, makes their
Subjects
discontented grow;
This, makes the Me
•
chant, and the Tradesman, break;
This, makes the arm of
Justice
grow so weak;
By this, are
States
unjointed, by degrees;
By this, their honor and their love they leese;
And, that confusion in upon them steals,
Which ruins
Nations, Kings,
and
Commonweales.
From hence are all those rascal Suits derived,
By which the common damage is contrived:
Hence, they (who by the public desolation
Would raise themselves) pretend the
•
reformation
They purpose not: and, by their fair pr
•
tences
To
•
ure old
griev
•
n
•
es,
breed new
off
•
nces.
Hence comes it, that to keep
•
hemselves on hie,
They sell their country, and p
•
sterity
To slave
•
y and bondage; ca
•
ing naught▪
So they have rest, how dearly it be bought.
This, makes the
Gr
•
nts
of Kings
•
ecome so tickle,
An
•
O
•
ders,
and
De
•
rees
of State, s
•
si
•
kle,
T
•
at no man knows when he hath ought procured,
How he, of w
•
at he hath may be assu
•
ed;
For, in a righteous cause, though be proceed,
A
•
d hav
•
it
•
atified and decreed,
By all Authority that may be gained;
A sleight suggesti
•
n (without reason f
•
ined)
May
••
u
•
tr
•
t
•
make the
Royal-confirmation,
O
•
k
••
p him in an endl
•
sse exp
•
ctation,
Till he be quite undone. And, if his foes
Have weal
•
h▪ (though no good reasons to oppose
His rig
•
tfull cause) he may be whe
•
l'd
•
bout,
With
O
•
ders,
tha
•
will
••
tch him in and out,
Till he be tyr'd: and, neith
•
r side is sure
O
•
conq
•
est, till the other can p
•
ocure
No brib
•
to give. Which is m
•
re wicked far,
Then thos
•
injustices which practice'd are
In heathen Kingdoms: since, when any t
•
ere,
For
Justice
or
Injusti
•
e
b
•
ibed are;
A man
•
h
•
ll hav
•
his bargain. And in this
More just they be then many a Christian is.
For, when some here a
•
e forced for their own
To give great fines, they afterward a
•
e thrown
From their possessions if another come
To buy
Injustice
with a larger sum.
O
•
! what a madness is it, for one day
On earth, to fool
Eternity
away?
To sell both soul and body for mere toys;
And r
•
all comfort
•
, for deceiving joys?
To build the
•
r house with mortar, which will bu
•
ne
The timber, and the structure overturn?
Perchance before the finishing be done,
But (doubtless) e're the third descent be gone?
What folly is it for a man to waste
At one vain triumph (which an hour doth last)
Mo
•
e then the portion, ten and ten times told
Which all his predecessors leave him could;
That, to his prejudice it may be known,
How hastily a ri
•
h man he is grown?
What meaneth he, who doth consume upon
One banquet, wh
•
t a town of Garison
Might live a year withal; to hear it spoken,
That so much cost was but a certain token
Of his corruption? And that all the store
He wastes, was got by making ot
•
ers poor?
Or that t
•
e greatness of his new gained glory,
Is of the common wrong
•
a real story?
Who pray
•
eth him for this? or who doth call
Him honorable, wise, o
•
l
•
befall.
For those expenses; but
•
he rascal rabble
Of Coxcombs, and of G
•
lls, that haunt his table?
What honor is it? or what can it please,
To be the Lord of many Palaces?
To have their Cambers, and their Galleries
Adorned with most precious
•
arities?
To feed, and clothe, and patronize a number
Of
Parasites,
and of
Buffoones,
to cum
•
er
Their w
•
lks and lodgings? To have every day
Th
•
ir servants following them in rich array?
Rich stuffs, with rich embroyderies to bury,
To ride on princely chariots? or to hurry
In gilt Caroches? or o
•
pampered Steeds,
(From
Turkey
fetched, or from the
Barbary
breeds)
To p
•
aance about the streets to show their pride?
Or with vain titles to be magnifi'd?
What pleasure is all this, when they sh
•
ll hear,
How loud the clamou
•
sounds in every ear,
Of their oppressions,
•
rau
•
s, and cruelties?
And how the people curse their tyrannies?
Their state, and their ambition to maintain;
How many, oh! how many to complain
Conftrained are? Alas! how m
•
ny a one
Have their proud followers tyranniz'd upon?
And of their servants, what great numbers too,
Do these by thir ambitiousnesse undo?
The faces of the poorer sort they grind;
The bread of
Orphans
(who the while are pin
•
e)
They feed upon. The people they have sold
For old-worn shoes
•
on Altars they lay hold;
And, of each holy thing they m
•
ke their prey,
Whereon their sac
•
ilegiou
•
hands they lay.
The portion of their brethren they devour;
A
•
d, by us
•
rping an unl
•
wfull power,
They save each other harmless from the laws;
And overthrow the poor complainants cause.
Their neighbors, often, and t
•
eir nearest friends,
(To who
•
they deign respect but for their ends)
Are so engaged to uphold their pride,
That they their foolish heads are fain to hide.
Som
•
Tradesme
•
,
for their vain credulity,
(In trusting to their
H
•
nors
) now do lie
Imprison'd for their aptn
•
sse to believe:
And, what they suffer, or how m
•
ch they grieve,
Their
Lordships
care not: For (except their own)
Of all men's troubles they are sense
•
less grown.
Their houses, and their lodgings, every day▪
Are full of
Suitors,
who as humbly pray
Fo
•
what's their own, as if that they were some
Who to entreat for charity were come:
And oft are answered with such harsh replies,
For their compelled impo
•
tunities,
As if it were an impudence or wrong,
To ask the debt which had been
•
ue so long.
The
Baker
and the
Butcher,
sometime serve
Great men with bread and flesh until they sta
•
ve
Themselves almost: and, if they doubt they shall
Be quite undone before it so befall▪
They oft a
•
e glad to lose the sum that's due,
Through fear that for their own if they should sue,
(Instead of recompense) receive they might
Some evil turn, their boldness to requite.
For, some are grown so base, that now and than
Their
Costermonger
▪ yea their
Butterman,
And
Herbw
•
fe
is half beggar'd and undone,
By suffering them upon their scores to run.
Oh! with what faces can these Tyrants ride
Along the streets, in such a h
•
ight of pride,
As oft they do, when they are looked upon
By those poor Tradesmen whom they have undone?
What j
•
y have they to see, or to be s
•
ene
In those gay feathers, which have plucked been
From others wings; whose nakedn
•
sse appears
To cry aloud for Justice, in God's ears?
And what a
Plague
is fallen on that L
•
nd
Where such as these have places of
command?
Where t
•
ese are chose for
Statesmen,
what protecti
•
Is
Virtue
like to find? what due correction
Hath
Vice
where such control? or what is he
Can look for Justice, where such
Judges
be?
Would I could say, oh!
Britain,
thou hast none
Of these Or else might name thee such a one,
As lawfully, as I might boldly do it,
For thy advantage, were I called to it.
But, that authority which I have got,
Checks faults alone, with persons meddles not.
Thy ancient Virtues are not wholly lost,
In all thy families. Yet,
•
or the most,
As are thy
Princes,
now, thy
Gentry
be▪
According to the height of their degree.
They spend their youth in lust and idleness;
In impudent p
•
ophanenesse, and excess;
In foolish complements; in thriftl
•
sse games;
And in
oblivion
do interre their
Names:
Through want of knowledge, and that real worth
Which sets the luster of true
Gentry
forth.
The
ma
•
kes
of
Gentle-blood,
and that which praise
Did thereunto acquire, in fo
•
mer days,
Were Justice, Temp'rance, Courage, Prude
•
cy,
True Courtsie, Meekness, Liberality,
And such as these. Their
Ex
•
rcises
were
Those which the mind or body might prepare
For ve
•
tuous practices: as leaping, run
•
ng,
To handle Arms, to shoot, to show their cunning
In m
•
naging great Horse; in studiousnesse
Of piety, and of the
Sciences.
Which we term liberal. But now, alas!
Th
•
Gentry, Britain,
is not as it was.
To be a
Gentlem
•
n,
is now, to we
•
re
Fant
•
stick habits, horrid oaths to swe
•
re;
To w
•
ifte Tobacco; to be drunk, and game;
To do a villainy, and boast the s
•
me.
To dare the Pox; to talk with impudence▪
How oft they had it, without grief or sense,
Of their misdoings; no
•
hin
•
to pro
•
esse
Or p
•
acti
•
e, but to live
〈◊〉
;
To quarre
•
l; to be in
•
ole
•
t, and proud;
To che
•
t, and brag, and lie, and speak aloud
In stea
•
of
•
p
•
aking reason: to p
•
esume
Abov
•
his woe
•
th; unwise
•
y to
•
o
•
sum
Hi
•
p
•
t
•
imony; fast and loose to play;
To borrow▪
•
ithout purposing to pay;
To spend their time in
••
uitless
•
visi
•
ations,
In beastly and p
•
ophane communications;
In telling and in liftning a
•
ter news;
In viewing idle sights, or haunting Stews;
With such like exe
•
cises: as if they
Were made to flutter all their time away
Like
Butterflyes,
and lived, pu
•
posely,
For nothing, but to eat, and drink, and die.
Their noblest mark, is di
•
ting a brace
Ofhandsome Nags, to run a
•
quitting
Race.
Or keep
•
ng of a cast of
Norway
Kites,
To show them yearly half a dozen flights;
Or else, the feeding of a stinking pack
Of yelping Hounds; that when discourse they lack,
They m
•
y whole d
•
yes together, pra
•
e a story,
In which so
•
e Dogs, or Hauks, or Horses g
•
ory
•
s m
•
gnifi'd; and him they c
•
unt a Clowne,
That in their folly is no partner grown.
Oh! wou
•
d these lines had po'wr to make thē see,
How fooli
•
h and absurd their cou
•
ses be:
And that my
Muses
now could reach the strain,
Might win them nobler t
•
oughts to ente
•
ta
•
ne.
But, mine will h
•
rdly prove such
Charmes,
I fear;
For, at t
•
e very root we rotten are;
And, where our
Maladies
their cure should have,
T
•
e dangerou
•
infections we receive.
Our Nurseries of
Arts
are not so pure,
But th
•
t in them our bane we may pr
•
cu
•
e.
Our
Inn of Court
have lost their good repute,
By ha
•
boring of persons
•
issolute.
The
•
chooles of
Law
are
Sanctuaries
made
For
Out-laws,
and where once our
Gentry
had
That nurture which ennobled them; now, there
•
By lewd examples, which too frequent are,
O
•
, by too great a liberty, we gain
A habit in
•
ll courses tha
•
are vain.
A
•
d most of those, of whom the world believes
Most good (among them) are but civil thieves.
For,
Lawyers,
and some
Officers,
in thee,
(Which Ministers of
Justice
seem
•
to be)
Have made t
•
e
Courts
and
Offices,
whereby
We should of wrongs receive a remedy;
To prove to us things more uneasy, far,
Then those, for which their just complainings are.
So costly b
•
their wild interpretations
Of
Laws
and
Customs
; and such variation
•
Are found in their opinions, that few know
When they up
•
ightly, or in safety go.
If any
Common Ba
•
reter
will please
By suits u
•
just his neighbors to disease;
The
Plea
may be may
•
tained, though that all
His allegations prove untrue they shall:
Or manifest,
•
y d
•
u
•
tlesse demonstration,
He pu
•
pos
•
d nou
•
ht but willful molesfation.
For,
Lawy
•
rs
will defend and plead the Cause,
Which to their knowledge doth oppose both
Iawes
And
Conscience
too; as if they did contemn
His threatenings that pronounced woe to them,
Who justify the w
•
cked in their fin;
Or him gainsay which hath not faulty been.
Even in our
Court of Co
•
science,
some things are
Vnconscionable. For, if any here
Be causelessly compl
••
n'd on well is he
If uncondemn
•
d in the
•
uit he be.
For, this
Defen
•
ant
h
•
th small r
•
medy,
Save that, an
•
patie
•
ce, for his injury.
His causl
•
sse trou
•
l
•
s, and his large expense,
Hath no req
•
it
•
ll save his innocence.
For, if all they that are u
•
ju
•
tly grieved,
By h
••
ing co
•
ts o
•
suits
••
old be re
••
ved;
Or if the
Plaintiffe
should his
B
•
ll
ave
•
re
Upon his oath, as every
Answerer
Confirmes his An
•
wer, m
•
ny
•
brawling
K
•
ive
W
•
uld then be quiet, and that
Court
would have
Far less employment: yea, and we
•
e it not
Their
Trave
•
ses
did knit again the
knot,
W
•
ich
Answers upon O
•
th,
almost untie,
Suits would not h
•
lfe so long unended lie.
This, many
Offi
•
ers
do seem to fear;
And th
•
refore (as if
Courts
erected were
To m
•
ke them rich, by n
•
urishing contention;
Much rat
•
er then to co
•
pass the prevention
Of wrongs and discord) they continue still,
T
•
at cou
•
se w
•
ich brings most grists unto their mil.
If I would m
•
ke a
Libell,
it should be
By way of
Suit:
f
•
r, I did never see
A scurrilous
Rime
or
Pamphlet,
so compact
O
•
sl
•
n
•
ers (nor so cunningly derract)
As do their than-less
Bills,
and their
Replies,
Who seek, th
•
t way, men's names to scandalize.
They dare p
•
etend (as if with warranty)
Those things of which no probability
Was ever seen. For, thou
•
h they prove it no
•
,
They kno
•
the very mention of a blot
Doth leave a sta
•
n
•
;
•
nd, that aspersions laid
Sup
•
osedly, are often so
••
nvaid,
And so dispersed; a
•
d in disperting, will
Such new additions g
•
the
•
to th
•
m s
••
ll;
That, at th
•
last (althoug
•
most fall
•
e they were)
For t
•
uths, they told and heard, of ma
•
y, are.
But, their
I
•
tergatorie
▪ have a trick
Beyond all other
L
•
b
•
dings,
to stick
An infamy on any: for, in those,
O
•
•
ll which they will causl
•
sly suppose
W
•
thin their
Bills
; they may the qu
•
st
•
on move,
To whoms
•
ever t
•
ey preten
•
•
sh
•
ll prove
Wh
•
t they object And, t
•
ough no p
•
oofe be brought,
N
•
y, though
•
it never came within his thought,
That is complai
•
'd a
•
ainst▪ to do or say
Those things which they object against him may:
Yet, he th
•
t is examined, or he
That
•
eads what matters questioned of him be;
Suspects, perhaps, (although he nothing knew
Con
•
erning them) that everything is true
W
•
ich their Intergat
•
ries do imply.
For, why thinks
•
e (that meaneth honestly)
Should
Propositions
of these things be made,
If they no likelihood of being
•
ad?
Or w
•
o (suppose
•
h he) hath so abhorred
A mind, as to suggest, and on
•
e
•
ord
To leave aspersions (o
•
deserving blame)
O
•
him, that no way merited the same?
Yet, this is frequent: and this li
•
elling
Much profit to th
•
ir
Common wealth
doth bring,
Who gain by others losses. And, there's none
O
•
whom this mischief m
•
y not
•
all upon.
For
•
ne example
•
f suc
•
g
•
osse abuse,
My self I can, and justly may, p
•
oduce.
For, sitting lately in a room alone,
My own occa
••
ons meditating on:
Two men, who talking at the door had been,
(And, as appeared, knowing me within)
Ma
•
e entrance and besought me both to hear,
(And witness) what they had agreed on th
•
re.
I heard them; and, I purposed to do
As they requi
•
ed, being called thereto.
But, mark what
•
ollow'd. Twelve months after that
Th
•
one of these (not well content with what
His b
•
rgaine wa
•
; and knowing, I alone
Cou'd re
•
tifi
•
wh
•
t they a
•
reed upon)
Did i
•
this k
•
vish c
•
nn
•
ng wise project
To make my
wi
•
nesse
take the less effect.
Forsooth,
•
e m
•
k
•
s me pa
•
ty in the cause;
A pitiful
complaining Bill
he draws;
Wherein his
le
•
rned Counsel
did devise
Such
Combinations,
and
Conspiraci
•
s,
Such
Plots,
such
Pra
•
tices
▪ and such large tal
•
s,
Of
Premises,
of
Bargai
•
i
•
gs
▪ of
Sales,
And such like
Heathrish
••
uffe
: and his pretence,
Was woe
•
ded out with so much impudence;
T
•
at, surely, whosoever came to see
That piece o
•
Ch
•
uncery,
supposed me
A very cheating Rascall: or, tha
•
I
(At least) was privy to some knavery;
Whereas he knew, who then did so abuse me,
I blameless was of w
•
at he did accuse me.
Yea, then so far was I from any plot,
Or purposed wrong; that I had quite forgot
Both
man
and
ma
•
ter:
and, but for his
Bill,
Had been (I think) unmin
•
full of them sti
•
l.
A wrong like this, if any please, he may
Inflict upon me every other day,
With safe impunity. For, such as he,
Intituled
Am
••
i Curiae
be:
And, many thousand fees would quite be lost,
Were they▪ in such like suits, to bear the cost.
If I should here disclose what I have seen,
The p
•
actice of some
Lawyers
to have been;
What cunning in
convey
•
nces
they use,
How strangely their Profession they abuse▪
And what a glory to them
•
elves they take,
Wh
•
n they an evil cause to thrive can make:
Or, should I he
•
e character their
Delayes,
Their
Errors,
their
Demurs,
their many w
•
yes
Of hindering
Justice
; their impertinent
And costly ted
•
ous
Forms
; their impudent
Extorting from their Clients doubl
•
fees;
For
Motions,
which they willingly d
•
e leese:
How they do move by halfs; how they mistake
(Of purpose) for themselves, new woe
•
k to make;
How oft their
Orders
have by procrea
•
ion,
Made up, almost, the hundredth generation;
What double-tongu'd
•
eports,
for double fees,
Are gotten by cor
•
upted
Referrees
;
(Who when the truth is plain, can coin a doubt
To bring again the falls
•
st
Cause
about)
How sense less of men's losses, griefs, or pain,
They are in all things which concern their game;
To what expenses they their
Clients
bring;
How they do ride them in an endless Ring,
And prey upon them: or, if here I should
Disclose as evidently as I
•
old,
How full of wicked bribes, their closets be;
What brutish cruelti
••
mine eyes did see;
How many honest
Causes
I have known,
For want of prosecution, overthrown;
Because our tedious
f
•
rmes
of trial, stretch
Much further then the Clients purse can reach.
How many miles poor men are forced to come,
For trifling suits, w
•
ich might have end at home;
But that our higher
Co
•
rts
more seek increase
Of t
•
eir base profits, then of blessed
•
eace.
Sh
•
uld I relate, wi
•
h what strange tyrannies
Some
Officers
their places exercise;
What par
•
iality they show; what pride▪
How they insul
•
on men; how they d
•
ride;
How big they speak; how scur
•
ilous
•
hey be,
In taunting and reviling men more free
From vice, then they themselves: Or▪ should I tell
How little tenderness doth seem to dwell
Within their bosoms, when they do oppress
The needy w
•
dow, and the fatherl
•
ss
•
:
If all these things I should insist upon,
And so describe them, as they might be done;
The woe
•
ld would know that all those injuries,
For which the Law appointeth remedies,
Are oft less grievous to the Common weal,
Then most, w
•
o most pretend her sores to heal:
And that as little help from them she sees,
As when she sets her Cats to keep her Cheese.
For, some of them are trusty in their kind,
And so, some trusty
Lawy
•
rs
she may find:
Yea, those
•
here be, that in these evil days,
Like
Rubies
mixed with peble
•
, send forth rays
Of Christian p
•
eties; which do declare,
That some remain who yet an honor are
To that prof
•
ssion; and all those are free
From being t
•
xt, or blamed here by me.
The rest shall bear their shame; for, they were bor
•
To be our plague; and they shall be my scorn:
Their torments
•
o afflict both night and day,
An
•
there are few such tortu
•
ers as they.
Fo
•
, of those wrongs which we by them sust
•
ine,
We scarcel
•
a
•
e pe
•
mitted to complain.
Nor will this
•
land
better days be
•
old,
So long as
Offices
are boug
•
t and sold.
Nor shall I ever think that a
•
y one,
Much cares, what right or injury be done,
That buys or sels an
Office
; chiefly he,
Who chaff
•
s that where seats of
Judgment
be.
Fo
•
order s
•
ke, to
•
hese my knee I bend;
Or, I to give them titles can descend,
And ev'
•
y outward reverence; that so
The pla
•
e they bear, con
•
emne
•
may not grow:
Yet, nobler far he seemeth in mine eyes,
Who, by a due election, doth arise
To be but
Heardma
•
in some Country Borrough,
Then all those
Lordlings
who have passed thorough
The greatest
Office
•
,
by giving pay;
Or by some other unapproved way.
When mē were sou
•
ht, that
Office
they might beat
And had it gratis▪ they such persons were,
Whose woe
•
t
•
, whose virtue
•
, and whose nobleness,
Bro
•
gh
•
ho
•
or to t
•
e seats they did po
•
sesse.
With faithfulness, their du
•
ies they discharged,
No ancient fee unjustly was enlarged;
Or n
•
w extorted; neither did they take
The poor man's money, when he mone did mak
•
:
For, by an easy entrance they were able
(When need required) to be charitable.
Their just expenses, also, to provide;
And to sust
•
ine a comely port b
•
side.
But, since men sought out
Offices
; and thought
Of their own merits, better then they ough
•
,
(Int
•
uding, without modesty, to sit
Upon that Seat,
•
or which they were u
•
fit)
Since men expe
•
ienced (by serving long
In some inferior places) ha
•
such wrong,
Tha
•
ignorant Impostors got possession
O
•
what pertains to them, by due su
•
cession:
Yea-since to sac
•
ed
Calling
•
men are chose
By th
•
m, that should not of such
•
hin
•
s dispose;
What can e're long expected be, u
•
less
It be an overflow of Barbarous
•
esse?
Since each base fellow (who, perhaps, by steal
•
h,
By fraud, or by extortion, scrape
•
-up wealth)
May pu
•
cha
•
e, by his evil gotten pel
•
e,
A place o
•
honor, to ens
•
once hims
•
lfe,
And fortify his wickedness withal;
What hope of good proceedings follow shall?
Since needy, worthless, base, & shamel
•
s grooms,
May se
•
ue their persons into noble rooms,
By means ignoble; no man must exp
•
ct
From such a
Cause,
to draw a good
Effect
;
Or, that he honor gets, who in such times
To any honorable title climbs.
He'
•
but a thief, that in at window comes;
The buyer sells, and sells
•
or greater sums;
By bribery, he bribery defend
•
,
Of unjust
Mammon
he do
•
h make him friends,
To nourish Pride; or else to make up that,
W
•
ereby possession of his pl
•
ce he gat;
Without compassion, he doth grieve, oppress,
And rack the widow, and the fatherless:
All places▪ and all things t
•
at appertain
To every place, he put
•
to sale, for gain:
Yea, most men of each other, now, m
•
ke sale:
Of th
•
ir own liberties, of lives, and all.
Great
Offi
•
ers
pretending to the gift
〈◊〉
some inferior places, make a shift
•
o save the giving, and, so dearly sell
That their poor underlings they oft compel
To serve without allowance; or to raise
Their maint
•
nance, by some unlawful ways:
Which they must co
•
ntenance; or else contrive
That others at such doing
•
may connive.
Whereby those places held disg
•
acefull be,
Which, otherwi
•
e, from scandal, had been free.
Why then reproach we such with odious names,
Since they that are the author
•
of then shames,
(And those to whom base te
•
me
•
do appertain)
Are their great
Mast
•
rs,
who make wicked gain
Of what should
•
reely be bestowed on those
To whom they ought such places to di
•
pose?
From them, and their corruption, doth arise
The multitudes of base enormities
That swarm among our petty
Officers.
It is a sum
•
f money that prefe
•
s
To every place; and that makes knaves, and sharks,
Of
Sergeants, Waiters,
and of
Under-clarks.
This maketh
Registers,
in every Court,
And other
Ministers,
so much extort:
This makes them seek out knots, demurs, delays,
And practice many unapproved ways,
To make up that which
•
oolishly they paid:
Yet, in the grave, thei
•
heads, perhaps, are laid
Ere half recovered be: and oft their wives,
(Whose portion bought those places for their lives)
Are le
•
t, with many ch
•
ldren, to a lot
Vnpitied, as they others pitied not.
For, many a one of these, although you see
Their wives and children in apparel be
As costly as a Lord's (that yea
•
lie may
Dispend as g
•
eat a sum, as these did pay
For their new Offices) engaged are
To Usurers, for twice the better share
Of
•
heir large Fines: and, sometime they undo
Themselves, their kindred, and their neighbors too.
Hence comes it, that
Receivers, Bailifes, Reeves,
And other such, are worse then common thieves;
And
•
ack and pill so boldly; and from hence
It flows, that few suppress their insolence:
Even from their base corruption, who do thrive
By such men's loss; and not alone connive
At their misdoings, but, oft patronize them,
And from just censures an escape devise them.
For they that else would Furze and Brambles burn
•
,
Will cherish them, where they may save their co
•
ne.
Thus,
Britain,
most of them have used thee,
Whose
Offices,
by purchase, gotten be.
These, and a multitude of other crimes,
They cause, and act, and suffer in these times:
And are so insolent in what they do,
That they dare practice, and defend it too,
Without remorse of mind, or seeming sense
Of being guilty of the least offense.
Nor come thy
Priests
or
Prophets
much behind
The worst of these: but, pass them in their kind.
For, though a learned
Clergy
thou possessest,
And every day in knowledge much increasest:
Although I do believe thou hast in thee
Those
Guides
whose ways are from reproof as free
As are the best on earth: yet, thou hast more
That are perverted, now, then heretofore.
Of late, thou heaps of
Teach
•
rs
gotten hast,
Resembling empty vapors, or a blast
That breathes no comfort. What God never meant
They publish fo
•
th; and come e're they are sent.
Thy people's hurts, t
•
ey cure with sugared speech;
W
••
n there's no peace at all, of peace they preach;
Thou pu
•
bl
•
nd
Watchmen
hast, and some that see,
As blindly walk, as they that blindest be.
Dumb Dog
•
thou hast, who spend their time in sleep;
And, some who bark, but to affright the sheep.
Like hungry Curres, some always gurmandize;
Yet nothing can their greedin
•
sse s
•
ffice.
They follow their own wills, and their own ways
They hunt for their own profit, their own praise.
They tread the p
•
ths where common sin
•
s wall
•
e;
Amongst themselves, they most profanely talk;
And, at the Taverns meet, and sit and
•
will
Strong drink, and wine▪ until their guts they fill.
In taking Gifts, and compassing Promotion,
They show more zeal, and practice more Devotion
Then in their holy
Callings.
They delight
In Flattery
•
; and the fawningst
Parasite
In all t
•
e Cou
•
ts of
Europe,
cannot prate
More Heathnishly, nor more
•
nsinuate
Then some of th
•
m. The blessed Sacraments
And holy Word, are used as inst
•
uments
To compass th
•
t, for them, which they projected;
And oft polluted are, and of
•
negl
•
cted.
Their sacred
Orders,
are abused and made
To serve them for an
Office,
or a Trade,
To be in
•
iched by; and to that end
The preaching of the
Gospel,
they intend.
They come not
•
y the door into the fold;
Things holy, they hav
•
often
•
oug
•
t and sold;
Conspiraci
•
s they m
•
ke in matters fowl;
They prey upon the body and the soul;
And, fat and rich, and mighty to become,
They daub and plaster with untemper'd
•
ome.
With lies, and fair pretences they beguile;
And violate the Law of God, the while.
His Altars they profane, they sla
•
ve his flock;
They make
Religion
but a mocking-flock;
And, by examples horrible and vile,
Cause other men, God's
Temples
to defile.
There is no avarice which theirs exceeds;
No malice which a mischief sooner breeds:
No pride so sutly as their
Clergy-pride,
Except among the Beggers, when they ride.
They, who but few years past, would h
•
lfe have broke
Thei
•
kindreds, to have purchased them a cloak;
And in poor thread bare Cassocks sought to preach
Beneath an
Under-Curate
; or to teach
The chil
•
ren of some
Farmers,
for their meat:
And seemed scarce worthy so much grace to get,
Until by count
•
f
•
it humility,
(By fawni
•
g mixed with importunity,
And g
•
lt with feigned zeal) they wr
•
ught on some;
To bring their wandering feet into their home.
Even some of these, so well have acted out
Their part
•
, of seeming honest and devout;
That (either like to
Micah's
Priest, by leaving
Their
Patrons
; and their hopeful trust dec
•
iving:
Or, some su
•
h likely ways) they have acquired
A
•
i
•
her st
•
tion, then th
•
y first desired.
They have so quaintly humor'd, and so pleased
T
••
present times; that, they have proudly s
•
ized
Supremest places: and, now, over peer
Their heads by whom, they fi
•
st a
•
vanced were.
And v
•
ry profit
•
ble, sure it is,
To heed them, since their met
•
mo
••••
s
•
s.
For, if thou mark, how stately now they bear
Their lofty heads; how insolent they are;
How pitilesse to suitors they become;
With what contempt poor men be rated from
Their angry presence; what imperious
Lord's
Their
Docto
•
ships
are grown; what haughty words
They thunder forth; what
Antichristian
state
They take upon them; how extreme ingrate
And inhumane they prove (even unto those
By whom, they from the dunghill first
•
rose)
Werit well observed how strangely they contemn
Their ancient friends; and twixt themselves, & them,
What distances they set; or, to their kin
How harsh and evil natured they have been;
(Except to those, that having means to rise
As well as they, their folly do despise.)
Werit known, what self opinion they have got
Of their own worths; how they themselves besot
With arrogance; how peevish, and unquiet
They be in their attendance, and their diet;
In small or trifling matters how severe;
In those which of the greatest moment are,
How careless grown: how envious of the grace
O
•
gifts bestowed on those, in meaner place.
Were notice also taken, with what strain
Of p
•
ide and loftiness, they entertain
Their brethren of the
Clergy,
when they are
By any summons called to appear
•
efore th
•
ir
Lordships
; with what
Pope
like phrase
They seek to terrify, and to amaze
Their humble
Suppliants,
with what balde conceits
T
•
ey v
•
nt their humors, that the crew which waits
To claw and sooth such follyes, may begin
(In
•
tead of some applause) to fleere, and grin.
How tar
•
lie they can chide, and rail, and play,
And jest on those, who but the other day
Did equal them in tempr'all dign
•
ties;
And are more worthy, though less high they rise.
Were these things heeded, and some passages
Which name I could, as worthy note as th
•
se;
A man would har
•
lie think, that these had been
Those
Priests,
who but a while before were seen
So be
•
gerly, and so exposed to scorn;
But, that, they had (at least) been
Prelates
borne.
None could have thought that these mē had been they
Who lately did so bitterly invey
Against the pride Episcopal; and plained,
To see themselves so slighted, and disdained
Of their superiors: no man would
•
ave thought
These had been poor men's children, who had naught
To give them nurture; or, that they, bereft
Of all their friends, were to the parish left.
None would believe, almost, that any such
Should from so little, rise to have so mu
•
h
In such a
Calling
; and so woe
•
thlesse be
In their condition: for, it seems to
•
e,
They little con
•
cience make of that
Prof
•
ssion,
Whereby they have those glories in possession:
Since then (me thinks) so
•
ar they would not swerve
From his pure word, whom they pretend to serve.
Oh! pray that God would mak
•
thos
•
watchmen
see
What blots and errors in their c
•
urses be.
And, that, by good example they may teach,
What they by word, unto the people preach:
For, by their actions▪ many overthrow
The growth of that, which they themselves did sow.
Or by their failing, or their falling f
••
m
A Christian zeal, make others cold
•
ec
•
me.
And, some of these are those, of whom
Christ
says,
We should embrace their words, but not their ways.
But, many a one will neither say nor do,
What we may follow, or give heed unto.
Yea, we have now among us many a one,
(That could have spoken well) whose voice is gone,
By growing over fat with double Cures:
And pampring up themselves like
Epicures.
How many Doctors have we, who before
They were advanced, from conditions poor,
Were glad and willing twice each Sabbath day,
To preach, and all the public pray'rs to say?
Yea, without any show of being weary,
The Sacraments to give; to wed, to bury,
And, often in the week, those works to do,
Which by their Calling they were bound unto?
Of those how many in these days are seen,
Th
•
t having to promotion raised been,
Are well nigh silenced, now performing neither
Of all those duties, for whole months together?
Of these, how many lately have I known,
So proud (or else perhaps so lazy grown)
To cast upon their hirelings all that care,
And all that pains, which they themselves should bear?
Vouchsafing not so much as once a day,
(Though they are present)
public pray'rs
to say;
Or preach; or, of the duty
•
to be done,
To ease their
Curate,
in performing one?
But (sitting as mere strangers, or as he
Who thought such works, for him too mean to be)
Take ease and state upon t
•
em; more I wis,
Then either needful or beseeming is.
Indeed (when they are any way engaged
By public studies, weak, or sick, or aged)
Sometime to ease themselves, deserves no blame:
But having no excuse, it is their shame.
How unbeseeming is it, to behold
Our
Doctors,
who nor crazy are, nor old,
Nor any way disabled, save through sloth,
Or through their pride (or else perchance through both)
To leave that charge to some inferior one,
Which is too worthy, to be undergone
By him that's worth'est, in respect of all
Those dignities, the world afford them shall?
Why should the adding of a new
Degree,
Or la
•
ger
means
(which no additions be
To their essential wor
•
h) make wise men seem
So highly praised, in their own esteem,
As to debase that work, for whose mere sake,
God's mercy them so eminent did make?
For, if it were not so, why do they more
Neglect those duties now, then heretofore?
Why, in performing them, respect they so
The
times,
and
persons,
as we see they do?
At solemn feas
•
s, or in those places where
Most honorable personages are,
Why do they preach more often? why baptize,
And wed, and bury, where their living lies,
The richer fort, and let the poor alone;
If what they do, for conscience sake be done?
Ala
•
! preferment, and the being rich,
Doth choke up virtues, and the mind bewitch,
The daughter sleights the mother. For,
Devotion
Brought forth by painful travel, fair
Promotion
;
And lo, no sooner is
Preferment
borne,
But, proud she grows, and doth her
Mother
scorn.
They who d
•
d much sor little; now, possessing
A great abundance, do requite the blessing
With doing less, instead of doing more;
And, mar with pride, what pain did plant before.
The greater favors we from God receive,
The greater thankfulness we should conceive.
Yea, when that he advanceth us most high,
We should express the more humility;
And think, that even the meanest circumstances
Belonging to his holy
Ordinances,
Could not with reverence enough be done,
When we have all our worthiness put on.
And, doubtless, when to God most high we raise
Our hands, in offering up his public praise,
The man (in my opinion) fitteth best
That work; who seems more worthy then the rest.
And, whosoever should that act eschew,
(Except just cause within himself he knew)
I know (how high soe're his place hath been)
His
Calling
is dishonored therein:
Or, if to be assistant he doth shun,
When any priestly work is to be done,
Where he hath
Cure:
for, into others rooms,
To make intrusion, no man it becomes.
God grant those men humility, and care,
Who otherwise, in this, affected are;
And show o
•
r
Clergy
what uncomeliness
Appears in this. For, some herein transgress
By other men's examples; and indeed,
Some other men, by want of taking heed
Of what they do; who having weighed the fact,
Will never put the same, again, in act.
Lord
waken these; and, humble those, I pray,
Whom pride, or vanity have led astray.
And oh! ye house of
Levi,
warning take ye;
Lest God, for times to come, examples make ye,
As he that
Clergy,
your example made,
Whose monstrous pride, the age before you, had
So great a fall. Oh! mind it, and be more
Regardfull of your Charge then heretofore:
Lest they that spite the
Churches
dignities,
(And of her
Dowry
seek to make a prize)
For your ambitious pride, occasion take,
On
God's Inheritance,
their pr
•
y to make.
So will our
Clergy,
which is yet respected,
Be scorned, become as poor, and as neglected,
As in those
Countries,
where their former pride
Hath made their Calling to be vilifide.
Oh! leave, oh! leave your haughtiness betimes,
Your avarice, your envy, and those crimes,
That are observed among you; left for them
God shake the wall of our
Jerusalem.
For, heaven and earth for me shall testify,
That this my
Muse
in nothing doth bely.
Your manners; but that you are mo
•
e then stained,
With every fault whereof I have complained.
And as it was their
Priests
and
Prophets
sin
That brought the Deluge of those troubles in,
Which overwhelmed the
Jewish Commonwealth
:
So, if with us the Lord severely deal,
Your sins and errors will enlarge the rent,
Through which the mortal arrow shall be sent,
That deepest wounds. Oh! God defend us from
Such judgments; or, if thou be pleased they come,
Upon our sinful bodies strike the blow;
And keep us from a spiritual overthrow.
Excuse me worthy Prelates; and all you
Whom God with la
•
ge preferments doth endue,
And raise to honor, out of low degrees,
Because engrafted in your hearts he sees
Such inward virtues, and such outward graces,
As do become your high and holy places;
Excuse me if in ought delivered here,
Injurious to your worths I may appear:
For, not a Line of these reproving strains,
To you or any one of your pertains;
Nor need you cure, if any shall apply,
These tart reproofs, to blur your
Callings
by:
Because you know, that none are this way harmed,
Who are by true and real virtues armed.
Because you also know, that some have shamed
Your pl
•
ces by such
••
imes as I have named.
I know you will not frown, though I did say,
That some of
Christ's Disciples
would betray
Their
Master
to his foes. Since this no more
Redounds to your disgrace, then heretofore
It did to his
Apostles,
that he said
How he by one of them should be betrayed.
None tax you shall, by means of this, but heady
And hairebrain'd fools, that are your foes already;
Nor would I for the world unloose my tongue,
To do the Virtuous, or your Calling wrong.
Let no man gather hence, my
Muse
envies
The
Clergy,
or the reverend
Dignities
To them pertaining; or dislike to see
Great
Prelates
raised up from low degr
•
e:
For, them I honor most, who from a race
Of mean esteem, have gained an honored place,
By true desert. And (might I be as able
As willing) I would make more honorable
Their holy
Callings
; and forever close
Their greedy mouths, and bind the hands of those
Who speak, or act, what might infringe their due,
Who in those places good examples show.
I know, among our
Bishops,
there are some,
Who make their outward honors to become
A means to keep
Religion,
and their
Calling,
From being vilified, and from falling
Into contempt: of
S
•
iles
account th
•
y make not,
For their own glory: to themselves they take not
Their
Lordly Attributes
; but to adorn
Their
Office,
and to keep the same from scorn.
Some such there are: and for the sakes of such
It is, that yet our
Clergy
hath so much
Of that esteem which our forefathers left them;
And that these greedy times have not bereft them
Of those endowments which were granted here
When
Kings
the
Churches
nursing Fathers were.
From these reprooses, let such therefore be free;
And fall the blame on those that faulty be.
But, as the
Shepherds
have deserved the strokes
Of God's displeasu
•
e; so their wanton
Flocks
The same have merited; and, blame there lies
On all conditions, and fraternities.
I woul
•
not speak what might offend the Throne
Of
Justice
; or the
King
that fits thereon.
From all taxation let him scape as free
As he is innocent; yea let him be
Vntouched: and, let every virtuous
Peer,
Be free from all, that shall be spoken here:
For, I will aim at none, but whom it shall
Become an honest
Muse
to chide withal.
In this, believe me
Readers.
For, I pray
Forgive my bluntnesse. And I dare to say
The
Court
is fraught with bribery, with hate,
With envy, lust, ambition, and debate;
With fawnings, with fantasticke imitation,
With
•
hamefull sloth, and base diffimulation.
True
Virtue
's almost quite exiled
•
hence,
And vice with vice, for chief preeminence
M
•
intaineth w
•
rs. The mo
•
t profuse Excess,
And Avarice, one bo
•
ome oft possess:
The greater pa
•
t are of a Mushroome breed,
Spring up upon a sudden, without seed,
Or plant, or graft, and, often, in one day,
(Yea some
•
time in a moment) swept away.
With lies, they seek their
Sover
•
igne
to delight;
And act their impudences in his sight.
They flay the people, an
•
their flesh they tear
Even from the bones; as doth a greedy Bear.
They cannot broo
•
the mention of their error;
They drive out of their minds the day of ter
•
or.
Deep pits, to hide their mischiefs in, they m
•
ke;
And think th
•
t God no heed of them will take.
They live upon the
Commons
; and yet grow
More fat, then others in enclosures do
And, that which follows t
•
eir increasing power,
Is but to be devoured, or devour.
Their wealth consists of
Projects
: their esteem
Is that which they to one another seem.
Their
Honors
are bare
Titles
; and, that state
Which they themselves do fancy and create.
Their
Ze
•
le
is willfulness. Their
Faith
is such
As
Reason
breeds; and, most times, not so much.
Their
Hope
is something, but I know not what.
Their
Charity
is nothing; or else that
Which I should call
Self-love.
Their
Strength
i
•
in
Opinion▪ and in ableness to sin.
Their
Wisdom,
and their
Policy,
(if we
May guess at things that undiscerned be)
Is to resolve on nothi
•
g: so, the
Foe
Shall never compass their designs to know.
Their
Courtesie
(if men will be content
To think it may consist in
Complement)
Is wondro
•
s great. Their
Valour
is in oaths.
Their greatest
Glory
doth depend on clothes;
In which they are so vain, that every morne
(Almost) a new attire by some is worn,
Of sev'rall stuffs or fashions: and they dress
Their bodies, with such tedious curiousnesse,
And, such a multitude of hands there are
To tr
•
m them (and their trappings to prepare)
That half so many, of good workmen, may
Erect a house, e're they themselves array.
Of
Honesty
they scarce the name afford:
For, should I term one, there, an honest
Lord
;
It might be thought as clownish, so to do,
As it were fall
•
e, perhaps, to call him so.
God's holy
Sabbaths,
most among them, there,
Observe not much; except it be to wear
Their finest clothes. The
Bus'nesses,
that may,
And should be done upon some other
Day,
Are then debated on, as frequently,
As those affairs which by necessity
Are urged upon them. And, all sorts of men
(When they should serve their God) are forced then
To wait upon the world; to whom God gave
Six days; for everyone which he should have.
Nor, thereby, many other men's unrests
Occasi
•
n they alone; but, even their beasts
Are then disquieted; and cannot have
That right, which both God's
Laws,
& Natures, gave▪
Sometime, they to remove, that
Day,
prepare;
Yea▪ then begun, sometimes;
Removalls
are;
And in the
Court,
more
Carters,
we may see
Employ'd that day, then through the Kingdom be.
On
Sun
•
ayes
far more Coaches rumble thither,
Then do in some three other days together:
And, seldom have they leisure for a
Play,
O
•
Maske,
except upon God's
Holy-day.
I do not think we are obliged to
A
Jewish Sabbath,
as great numbers do:
But sure I am, from
Piety
we swerve,
Unless a
Christian-one
we do observe.
And, though to them no fault it may appear,
Who on such
Evenings
do but only hear
Or (for their honest recreation) view
The action of some
Enterlude,
or
Shew
;
Yet, needs it must be known, to some of these,
That to prepare for such
Performances,
To many persons must occasions be
Of Sabb
•
th-bre
•
king in a high degree.
In whom this fault most lies, as yet, my
Muse
Descrieth not: bu
•
, sure I may excuse
The
King
: and if but half
•
o forward were
Those
Clergy men
that have his royal
•
are,
To cause him such enormities to see;
As they are thought in other thing
•
to be
Which less concern them; he would soon fo
•
bid
Those customs; and as
Nehemiah
did,
More hallow'd make the
Sabbath.
Nay if none
O
•
them, whose wisdom he d
•
pendeth on,
In this have mis-informed him; he will prov
•
O
•
r
Nehemiah,
and this fault remove,
When he hath warmed his
Thro
•
e
: for we have hope
That all our
Breaches
he e're long shall stop.
But leaving him, I will finish the repo
•
t
Which fits the greater number in the
Co
•
rt.
Religion
they have some, but many care not
I
•
•
he
•
e the use or mention of it were not:
Some others have divided it between
Our gracious
Sovereign,
and his royal
Queen
;
And, till in one
Religion
they agree,
They stand resolved, that they will
Neuters
be.
Oh! make betwixt them,
Lord,
a blessed Union,
And, us partakers of thy blest
Communion.
Our
Cities
are as wicked as the
Court
;
Of he
•
transgressions they come nothing short:
But, rather pass them; if a man might say
That
Infinites
admit exceeding may.
And,
London,
thou thy Sisters all hast passed,
In all the faults, whereby they have transgressed:
To thee alo
•
e, my speech I therefore bend,
And will in
•
hine their follies reprehend.
I know that thou hast m
•
ny souls in th
•
e,
Who truly zealous of God's glory be:
Yea, thousands that by prayers and repenting,
Do seek thy peace, and labor the preventing
Of thy perdition; and, though they endure
Scoffes, t
•
unts▪ and injuries, from thy impure
And faithless
•
Children
•
yea, though such as are
Thy shame, and m
•
rk
•
God's heavy wrath to bear,
Contemne and malice those, and use their power
Those innocents to ruin
•
and devour:
Yet, they are those who keep away God's wrath;
And for whose sakes be
•
o long spared thee hath.
They make that pl
•
asing
Number,
who restrain
Those flames of Sulphur, that consumed the plain
Which now the Lake
Asphaltis
overflows.
And when (from out of thee) God calls for those,
Thou feel it shalt; and, not unlike become
Those
Asian Churches,
which departed from
Their ancient love▪ and are the loathsome den
Of
Satyrs, Faries,
and of Beasts unclean.
A place for
Zim,
and
Iim
; a nest for Owls,
Night Ravens, Vultures, and ill-boding Fowls.
And, then, in every house (as heretofore,
When popish-darkness spread this Kingdom over)
Men shall be frighted with strange dreadful noises;
Deformed visions, and hobgoblin voices.
I know,
Good-works
in
•
he are to be found;
And that, above the rest, thou dost abound
In public Charities. I know thou hast
All
Cities,
in this
Kingdom,
over-past
In plentifully preaching of God's word;
And, that thou bountifully dost afford
Large voluntary pensions to that end.
(Yea, somewhat else I might in thee commend.)
But, if thou take a note of thy transgr
•
ssions▪
If thou at thy
Assizes,
at thy
Sessions,
Or, at thy other
Courts,
observe, or hear,
How many horrid crimes detected are;
How many filthy and abhorred things,
God there discloses, and to Judgment brings;
And if thou think, withal, how many m
••
Committed are, which few do come to know.
Or heededst thou how few, and worthless, all
Those works appear, which thou dost
Virtues
call▪
What would they seem, compared to thy sin?
Or to those favors, which have heaped been,
By God, upon thee? Doth he owe thee ought,
Or hast thou done him services for naught?
Oh!
LONDON,
hath he not advanced thee
The
Mistress,
and the
Sovereign
to be
Of all the
Towns,
and
Cities
of this
I will?
Hath he not raised thee many a goodly pile?
Art not thou placed above, and they below?
Continuing blessings doth he not bestow?
And many privileges, yet, denied
To all the
Burroughs
of the Land beside?
Behold, thou hast the principallest
Trade,
And all their
Merchants
are thy
Chapmen
made:
Thou art the Royal
Chamber
of the King;
Whose residence doth wealth and honor bring
To magnify thy greatness. Kept in thee
His
Parliaments,
and
Courts of Justice
be.
Among the famoust
Cities
under heaven,
God hath to few a situation given
For pleasure, health, and profit, well united,
To thee compared▪ Yea, God did seem delighted
In thee to make his Dwelling (even among
Thy Temples) by maintaining here so long
His
Harbengers,
and
Ledgers,
to provide
Fit mansions, for his Graces to reside.
Thy God, to be thy
Hu
•
band,
thou hast had;
And, wert by him a fruitful
Mother
made,
So plenti
•
ull in Child
•
en; that, they play
Like swarms of Bees, about their hives, in
May.
No place in
Europe,
hath been so supplied
With soul and bodies food; or, fortifi'd
By Garrisons, Forts, Bulwarks, and munition,
As thou art hitherto (by God's tuition)
Without such charge or trouble. And the day
Will come, wherein, if any man shall
•
say
What peace thou hadst; and, in what plenty
•
ere
Thy Children lived (without want or fear)
It will not be believed, that a
Nation
So blest, could suffer such an alteration.
For, as (by Seas) from every other part
Of Earths vast circuit, thou enclosed art:
So, from the sudden coming of invasions,
And from the many troubles and occasions
Of Wars and wants, which in the world, we see;
Divided, also, these do seem to be.
Such is thy blest condition; and, although
Thou hast, about thee, of all things enough,
That may thy pleasure, or thy need suffice;
Yet, all the dainties and the rarities,
The World affords, are yearly hither sent,
From every quarter, of Earths
Continent.
Oyles, wines, and fruits, that good & pleasant are,
Swimme hither through the Straights of
Gibraltar.
Cold
Norway,
(or the parts adjoining) g
•
eets
Thy
River
with materials for thy
Fleets.
America
doth oft renew thy store
With Suger, drugs, with gold and silver
Ore
;
With
Ambergreece
; with woods that sweetly smell;
And other things, that please thy
•
ancy well.
Ormus,
with Pearl thy beauties doth adorn,
The Silks of
Persia,
in thy st
•
eets are worn.
From divers parts of
Africa,
(and from
Cham's
linage there) white
Ivorie
doth come;
And Apes and Fe
•
thers.
China,
where they printed,
And used Guns, ere we those Arts invented,
(If Friars be not liars) doth impart
The f
•
uits of their Inventions, and their Art,
To thy Inhabitants. Ra
•
e stones o
•
price,
Sweet smelling gums, and odoriferous spice,
Are broug
•
t unto thee ma
•
y thousand miles;
Even from
•
he Eastern
Indies,
and their
Isles.
This shows God's bounty: and of his compassion
Thou lately hadst, (even by thy preservation,
In thy g
•
eat
Plagues
remove; and by his pity
Vouchs
•
fed otherways, unto thy
City
)
Such evidence: that all men may confess
He did respect thee, with much tenderness.
What should I mention more, since, to recount
God
•
benefits would doubtlessly amount
To many Volumes? and sure none is able
To number that which is ina
•
merable?
This may suffice (for this time) to express
His Bounty, and thy great unthankfulness.
For, what h
•
st thou returned him,
•
or these.
And all those
•
lessings, which his Love doth please
To shower upon thee? What hast thou repay'd
For all the Charges which he hath defraid,
(In fencing, planting, and manuring thee)
That worthy, such a
Husbandman,
may be?
Thou hast fair-seeming
Grapes,
I must confess,
But, they are sour, and full of rottenness.
Thou makest great sh
•
w of charitable works;
But, that hypocrisy within them lurks,
Which mars their acceptation. Thou hast built
Some
Churches
; yet, art tainted by the guilt
Of
Sacrilege:
and, those thy gifts that eary
The pioust shows have
•
earce been voluntary.
Great numbers, in thy
Hospitals
are fed,
And lodged, and cured: but, the men are dead
Who founded them; and few do bring supply
To such good works, till they are sick, or die.
Thou entertainest
Proachers,
but they must
Speak pleasing things; or else away are thrust.
Thou hast of
Pastors,
some who shows do make
Of so much Conscience, that they will forsake
Their Livings rather then it shall be said
Theyle wear a Surplice: yet, some are afraid,
That most of these, do cunningly conceal
Much pride or avario
•
beneath their zeal,
And that their suff
•
ing of a
silencing,
Doth much more liberty or profit bring,
Then two good
Pers
•
nages:
and that, thereby,
Good meaning folk are brought to beggary.
Thou hast redeemed some
Captives
; but, it was
With sparingnesse, and hardly brought to pass.
Thou plantest
Colonies
; but, thou dost dra
•
ne
The nourishment away, that should maintain
And settle them.
God grant some be not gl
•
d
To fly (for this) to them, that should have had
More help from thee, and in far Countri
•
s peris
•
,
Because those plants they did no better nourish.
Much know thy people; but (alas) they do
As if good life belonged not thereunto.
Strict
Gospellers
thou hast, that can profess
Religion, with much for
•
all holiness:
But they, like
Zodoms
apples, prove within
As loathsome, as their ou
•
sides
•
air have been.
Yea, they (against their brethren) oft are found
In hate, and pois'nous malice to abound.
Good
Orders, Laws,
and
Customs
thou hast many;
But, very seldom exercisest any,
Except for private gain; or to acquire
Some
Vengeance,
which thou dost, perhaps desire.
Thou hast judicial
Courts,
wherein I (heeding
Their Laws) saw promises of just proceeding:
But, marking well their Forms, they seemed, rather,
Devices for thine
Officers,
to gather
Rich fortunes by; then to afford redress
For those, whom their oppressors do oppress.
Thou hast a
Magistracy,
to maintain
The peace of honest men; and, to restrain
The rage of wickedness: but, loe; even some
Of those are
patrons
of
mis-rule
become;
Disturbing quiet men, and thriving by
Befriending sin; else I have heard a lie.
Yea, some are famed, to increase their living,
By cunning rig
•
ur, mixed with conniving:
Deceiving honest people, by strict shows
Of punishing of those whom they excuse.
For when by doing Justice they compel
A wicked man beyond their bounds to dwell,
(Some thi
•
k) their grief, and loss, it doth augment,
As much as losing of a Tenement.
Thou hast
Correction-houses
; but, thou mende
•
t
Not many, whom to chasten thou p
•
etendest:
For, thither they are oftener
•
ent to ease thee
Of them, or of their pilfrings, which disease thee;
Then out of Christian purposes, to force
Such vagrant people to a better course:
And, therefore are thy
Suburbs
pestered now,
With beggars; yea, for that, so large doth g
•
ow
The number of thy
vagrant Rogues,
and
Cheaters,
That they begin to imitate their
betters,
In
Government,
and
Method:
and, are grown
To have both
Laws,
and
Language,
of
•
heir own.
Thy
Children
yield some good conformity
To Rules and Precepts of Morality:
But, most observe good orders, to enjoy
Their own state safe, and to prevent annoy
That might be
•
ide themselves; much
•
ather, then
In true obedience unto God, or men.
Within thy
Corporation,
I likewise
Have notice taken of
Societies,
Which be
•
re a goodly show of ordering
Thy sev'rall
Trades:
and I in many a thing
Theire use commend: yet, some of them, to me,
Grosse
Monopolies,
do appear to be.
Which do in secret, with some open shows
Of public good, the public weal abuse.
Nor would it be a
•
isse, if some things were
M
•
re free, which by their means restrained are:
Or if the
State
would better look unto
Those injuries, which many of them do.
Fo
•
, when these
Bodies politick
oppress,
Their power doth make the wrong without redress▪
Their purses, and continuance, may o'rebea
•
e
The righ
•
full'st cause (if so they pleased are)
The friends, and oft, the very noise they'll make,
(Because a multitude) much hold doth take
For their advantages; although the cause
Be both against good Consci
•
nce, and the Laws.
Nay, should the
Common
•
weal
•
h
her s
•
lfe, oppose
These
Corporations,
for some wrong that flows
From their proceedings; it would scarce obtain
That power which could these
Petty-weals
restrain.
For, having gain or loss, accruing by
Their
Claime,
which doth concern thē, far more nigh,
Then that, oft seems to touch those men, who stand
To take the Kingdoms gen'rall cause in hand,
It makes them t
•
pursue it, more then they;
More
Patrons
to procure, more bribes to pay;
And, at the last, to conquer▪ by that course,
Which makes the better cause to seem the worse.
This brings to mind same wrongs that I have had,
And what a
•
count of honest suits is made,
If once a greedy foolish multitude
Upon the right of any doth intrude.
But, left by thinking on it, mixe I may
My private harms, with what I meant to say
For public ends: here breathe I will a space,
Until my present thoughts I can displace.
Forgive me, Lord, if I have guilty been
In this my work, of any private spleen.
My
Musings
h
•
llow thou; confirm thy love:
Infuse me with thy Spirit from above,
With better things then flesh and blood discerns;
Inspire me with each
Ve
•
tue
which concerns
The finishing of what I undertake:
Make profitable all that I shall speak.
And, to thy
Name
some honor let it be,
Although it should both shame and ruin me.
The seventh Canto.
First, of
Himsel
•
e
he somewhat speaks:
Then, of the
Cities
errors, makes
A larger
Scrowle,
and, therewith
•
ll
Inserts abuses general.
He sh
•
wes (by reason of her sin)
What misery this
Land
is in;
What ill success, and what dishonor,
Is, for her follies, come upon her,
In foreign parts, and here at home:
How senseless, also, she's become:
What sev'rall ways against this
Land,
God hath of late stretched out his hand.
And, how the blame for what's amiss,
From one to th'o
•
her shift
•
d is.
By many
Symptoms,
he declares
How sick this
Commonwealth
appears;
Disputes
•
he late distemper bred,
Be
•
wixt the
Body
and the
Head:
And lays the blame, whe
•
e lie i
•
should;
Yet, therein, proves not over-bold.
T
•
en aims he at some imperfections
In
Burgesses,
and their
Election
•
;
And, briefly pointeth at the way
By which our
Cure
effect we may.
WHen I (whose lawfully emboldened
Muse
The faults and errors of her time pursues)
Have by some slips, or frailties of mine own,
Alaid that flame, w
ch
God's good
Sp'rit
hath blown;
Or when such heat within me, waxeth less
By fainting, through a nat'rall wea
•
inesse;
Or, by that willing, or constrained pause,
Whereof my friends, or bu
••
nesses, are cause:
At such a time, when I perusal m
•
ke
Of these beginnings; and, strict notice take
What here is dared; I oft find, as then,
Such fears in me, as move in other men.
And, being flesh and blood, as frail as they,
I stagger in my best approved way.
E're I thus far proceeded, I was tyr'd,
Even in this present
Work
(although inspired
With all that zeal thereto, which you may see
In some fore-going
Leaves,
expressed by me)
My heart was oft assail'd; and I, almost,
My best confirmed
Resolutions
lost.
Yea, twice, at least, since I this
Taske
assaid,
It hath by false suggestions been delaid:
And, many painful strivings are within me,
When from this
Work,
Temptation fights to win me.
Lord!
(thinks my heart) sometimes, what means my
Soul
To make me in this desp'rate wise control
Those careless
Times?
have I done well or no,
With nests of angry Wasps to meddle so?
Hath he, or wit, or common sense, that stirs,
A f
•
oward Bear? or plays with testy Curs?
Will any think me capable of
Reason,
Thus bold to be at such a dangerous season?
Nay, will not all account me mad to vent
Such
Lines
as these? adventuring to be shent,
And be undone, perhaps, to no more end,
Then that whereto my Labor seems to tend?
Do I conceive the
Times,
or
Manners,
be
Amended ought, by what is said by me?
Am I, that have, myself, unwisely done,
A fitting man, to hurl this heavy stone
At other sinners? what may many say,
But that in this I rail, or else do play
The witless
Furie?
It hath brought me loss,
(Think I) already; and will surely cross
The settling those affairs of mine, which are
Nigh rip'ned, with much pain, expense, and care.
And then the world, and my necessities,
Begin to tempt me, by such fallacies,
That I half yield. How wilt thou live, or pay
Where thou engaged art? they seem to say.
By what, or whence, thy wants wilt thou supply,
If thou for this imprisoned shouldst lie,
Divided from thy friend
•
? or, on the bed
Of sickness, shouldst by God be visited?
Nay, though thou nothing wantest; yet thou ha
•
t
So universally thy censure past,
On all offenders, (and it will so vex
In private, and so openly perplex
Great multitudes, so many sev'r
•
ll ways)
That, it will make thee hated, all thy days.
Where dost thou live, or whi
•
her canst thou go,
But there thou art assured of a foe?
The
City,
and the
Court,
thou hast controlled,
With
Commons,
and with
Nobles
thou art bold;
Vnconscionable
Lawyers
here are checked.
Thou dost some faults of
Clergy-men
detect,
With so much evidence, that be thou sure
Of all the mischief which they can procure;
And that, not one of them thy friend will be
Who from those imputations is not free.
All they that are notoriously, Transgressors,
All
Schismatics,
and all our false Professors
Will bitterly oppose thee. And no spite
Is like the malice of an
Hypocrite.
In brief (excepting those that are sincere
In life and Doctrine) no man will appear
As thy partakers: And, what are those
•
ew.
To that great Army, which will thee pursue?
If this deject me not, another thought
Is by another way upon me brought
•
It whispers to me, that these
Li
•
es
will wake
De
•
raction
; and that she revenge will take,
For interrupting and reproving
Sin,
That in security would fain have been.
Nor, is that now unpractiz'd: For, there be
A world of dogs already ba
•
ting me.
Hypocrisy▪ and Envy do combine,
With guil
•
y Malice, how to undermine
My good
Repute,
(that by a dis-respect
Of me, my words may take the less effect)
They compass me about, they watch my ways,
And mark my speeches (as good
David
says)
That if but sparks of error, they can see,
They blow them may, till flames they seem to be.
Let but a foolish word, slip out among
My c
•
mmon t
•
lkings, (for alas' whose tongue
Doth never err▪) they straight to censure take it,
And, such a piece of wickedness they make it;
That, should on them a judgment
•
o severe
From God be past (or by the world) I fear
It would so heavy on their pe
•
sons come;
That they would think the same a cruel doom.
If they but see me do what they suppose
May tend to folly, (though my
Maker
knows
The deed suspected, is as far from fin,
As that which I am best employed in)
They instantly a rash conclusion draw;
And speak their dream, as well as what they saw.
They fancy in their own corrupted thought,
What may at such a time, or place, be wrought,
By evil minded folks: and, thereupon,
Conclude the very same by me was done.
Then they
•
elate it: and though naught were seen
Which might indeed a likelihood have been
Of such an act; they, by themselves devise
To fashion out fair probabili
•
ies
Of what they speak: and, by the Devils aid,
Acts innocent, sometimes are so betrayed;
So mis reported by the spite o
•
those
Whose wickedness, perhaps, I did oppose▪
Yea, blameless circumstances, otherwhile,
Are so mistaken; and do so beguile
With shows of proving and confirming, that
Which was conceived by prejudicate
And false opinion; that, it makes them
•
old,
To think their feigned slander may be told,
With good belief: then to divulge about
Their lies (of me) they search companions out.
And as they are of sundry minds who raise
Such
Scandals
; so, they vent them divers ways.
If of the sort they be, whose open sin,
Hath in my
Poems
reprehended been;
Or such as they, who day
•
y guilty be
Of doing that, wherewith they flander me:
Then, in despite, or to extenuate
Their own offenses; thus, of me they prate.
This man (say they) that strips & whips the times
And, doth so thunder in his railing rymes,
(Against the faults of others) is no less
Ingul
•
ed in the sink of wickedness
Then he that's worst. His
Delilah
hath he,
And his beloved sins, as well as we.
He such a place frequenteth; he hath been
Met there, and there: him, we have daily seen
With such or such a one, at such a season:
Do so, and so; for which we know no reason:
Thus he is thought to be, and thus to do:
Yea, some of them will impudently to,
Affirme they saw, what they but misconceived;
If they do find their slanders vnbeleeved.
And when they speak such things, they neither care
To whom, nor when, nor yet how false they are.
If they be such who merely out of spite,
Or envy, to disparage me, delight;
(As do some
Poetasters
) they forbear
To speak downeright (because they do not dare)
And utter
Parables.
They, knavishly,
Their f
•
lshoods to some Truths, do closely ty,
To get belief. Things proper unto me,
They mixe with attributes that cannot be
To me applied, that so they may evade,
When question of their purposes is made.
They speak but half their matter out; and leave
The rest, for those that hear them to conceive
What they shall please: but, first disclose they will
Enough to make their best conjectures ill.
With words ironicall, they do revile me:
The
Valiant Poet,
they in scorn do style me.
The
Chronomastix
; and when taxed they are
That me they meant, their meanings they forswea
•
.
When these applauded
Wits,
have at the Po
•
Some
Novice,
or some new admirer got
Of their
Strong-lines
(which warmed by the heat,
Of Sack, or Claret, they, perhaps repeat)
Twere worth your sight, to see how soon the fire
Of
Bacchus,
their large brain pans doth inspire.
With mimmick strains: And how they shuffle i
•
Self-praises; and how grossly they begin
Occasions, that they may enthrall your ear
With some
new-pe
•
ee
of theirs, which you shall hear
Perforce; yet hear it with so much ado,
That you must think you have a favor to.
For with as many tedious circumstances
As doth some capring fool before he dances,
(Or
Singer,
which must tired be with wooing,
To do what willingly, he would be doing)
They do begin to read, or to rehearse
Some fragments of their new created
Verse,
With such a
Gesture,
and in such a
Tone,
As if Great
Tamberlaine
upon his Thro
•
e,
Were utt'ring a majestical Oration,
To strike his hearers dead with admiration.
Which oft so works upon their Auditory,
That, to the great advancement of their glory,
They lade them with applauses, and with drink
Till they themselves▪ the
Kings of Poets
think.
To which opinion, when once raised they be,
Then shall t
•
e
Draw
••
,
or the
Tapster
see
Their nat'rall humor, which (if true some say)
Is better worthy seeing, then a
Play.
Among the rest, 'tis odds, but e're they go,
The
Poets
must be summoned in a row
To bide their drunken censure; which doth shame
Those few they praise, much more then those they blame.
Among the rest, it chanceth, some
By-stander
By naming me their
Catalogue
doth slander.
If then a man of fashion he appear,
Who undertakes my name to mention there,
The man
(say these)
may pass; but, such as he
(By us) no
Poets
are esteemed to be.
A haz the way of making pretty Rimes,
To fit the apprehension of the times;
And, him for that, the multitude doth favor:
But, in his lines, there is but little savor
Of Reading, or Antiquity.
Thus far
They go, if they perceive their hearers are
Indifferently affected. And if they
Do find them jealous of my fame, they'll say,
Most fawningly, sometime those woe
•
ds of me
(In way of praise) that I should blush to be
Within their hearing. Yet, they'll interpose
Some jestings, now and then; or, in the
close,
Induce, by way of merriment, some cause
To bring their good opinions to a pause.
Affirming, that though
Drunkard
I am none,
Yet, I reputed am a
wanton-one
:
By some such way their
•
pleen they'll satisfy.
But, if no friend of mine appeareth by,
So freely, then, they vomit all their gall,
That they scarce make me anything at all.
And some, who neither knew them well, nor me,
Have thought me baser then the basest be.
Some others, by their malice, thought I had
Some worth in me, which them so envious made;
And came to know me; and when me they knew,
They told me this, which I have told to you.
Some other, show at large, they wish my shame,
But to their
Libels
will not set their
Name,
For fear of danger. And though such can gain
No prudent man (at first) to entertain
Their fatherless reports: yet, sure they are,
The world hath Knaves and Fools enow, to hear
The falsest tales; and that, when far they go,
The best suspect, and oft believe them too.
There be some other, who (out of a light
Vain hum
•
ur) love to hear, and to recite
Men's personal defects (without intent
Of doing right or wrong in what they vent)
They speak at random, whatsoever is new,
Not much regarding whether false or true;
And, do but serve to bear the tale about,
And blow the fire, which else would smother ou
•
.
There is another brood of these
Detractors,
Who in traducing me, are common actors:
And, they are such who cunningly conceal
Their hate and envy with a holy zeal:
They, whose Religion, and whose honest
•
es
Consist in judging those infirmities
That are in others. If these men espy
Some little
Atoms
in their brothers eye▪
They straight as busily do heave at them,
As if the smallest were a mighty
Beam.
Their lying suppositions must be took
For verities; or
•
lse they will not brook
A word you speak: nay (if you do misdoubt
Their
•
ensures) from the
Church
they thrust you out.
They Charity pretend; and, though they are
Well pleased when they have something to declare
Which may disgrace another, they will seem,
To have his reputation in esteem.
As loath to speak; they will bring it round about;
And thus (or some such way) divulge it out.
Now verily it gri
•
ves our very hearts,
The man whom God hath blessed with such parts,
Should walk in such unsancti
••
ed ways.
And then, they white me over with some praise
To make the spots the blacker which they mean
To spirit upon me, from their mouths unclean.
And though those Tales they build their Censures on
Were first received from some such wicked one
Whom they in other matters do distrust,
Yet is their criticism so unjust,
That in disgracing me, their words theyle take▪
And,
•
lso, of themselves, conjectures make
To justify their scandal
•
; that they may
The su
•
er be, their stains on me to lay.
Thus by the seeming sanctity of those,
My good intention (in these
Poems
) grow
•
More frustrate, then by all the rage of them▪
Who, with an open impudence, contemn
My best Designes. These, strike me deeper than
The wounds of twenty thousand others can:
Ye
•
, by their means the w
•
rke th
•
t I have wrought
(With such a mind, as th
•
t it might have brought
More good repute, then many others get)
Serves but to make me seem a
counterfeit
:
Yea, all my doings which are most upright
They judge as actions of an
Hyp
•
crite,
Which is the worst of
Sinners.
And in this▪
If they have placit their bitter dooms amiss,
What sin is theirs? Or, when can greater wrong,
Be done at any, live he nev'r so long?
Thou knowest oh! God (for thou all hearts dost know)
That though through frailty, of
•
astray I go;
And, otherwhile may tread that doubtful path
Of which the world a wrong opinion hath;
That neither I allow of any sin
Withi
•
myself, nor would continue in
The
•
mallest error, if I knew the same.
Thou knowest that what hath caused my greatest blame
Among some Censurers; is that by which
I am indeed, become most truly rich:
And that it also maketh me reform
My ways the better; and those works perform
To which thou callest, with fa
•
re greater ease.
And I am likewise hopeful, thou wilt please
To bless my cou
•
ses. For, thou Lord hast known▪
(In that rough track, through which my feet have gone:)
How grieved I am, when I misled have been,
Or in my actions, if ought hath been se
•
ne
Of
•
ensive unto others Thou dost view
My path; and with what mind I do pu
•
sue
The way I go▪ Thou knowest Lord, that I
Have oft refrain'd the Christian liberty
I might have took; left many that are weak
Might of my lawful freedom, evil speak.
Thou knowest this; and I am certain to
Th
•
t pleases thee which in thy fear, I do.
By these, and such like mischiefs which I see
This wicked woe
•
ld hath power to bring on me,
I oft wax doubtful; and sometime I shrink
Even from those just im
•
loyments, which I think
God calls me to And then I half desire
I might into obscurity retire
From whence I came; and be discharged quite
From this great warfare, wherein, yet, I fight.
For, many heavy weights on me are thrown
By these engagements (to the world unknown)
Yea private combats there are fought in me,
So many, and so dangerous they be,
That oft my Hopes are almost driven from me,
And, dull
Despair
would surely overcome me,
Were God not always ready to defend me,
And, as mine faileth, his own power to lend me▪
But, when myself o'recharged I do find;
When
flesh
and
blood
begin to shrink behind;
And when I see my Foes have mustered all
Their force against me: I start up, and call
A better aid then mine own Virtue gives me;
And, by his holy Spirit, God relieves me:
He makes me strong, in each good undertaking;
A
•
d answers all the doubts my heart is making,
In
•
his, and all good purposes, whereby
I have been hopeful him to glorify.
He warrants me I have no cause to fear
These
Lines
the fruits of thoughts distempred are,
Though some shall judge them such; since he whose mouth
Doth speak the words of sobernes and truth,
May seem to those, who thought judicious are,
As mad, as
Paul,
to
Festus,
did appear.
He hath assured me, I cannot run
This honest
way,
a course to be undone.
He doth persuade me, that if I grow poor
By doing well; my wealth shall be the more.
He says, that if his glory I have sought,
(And for no wicked purpose closely wrought)
I shall no mischief, nor displeasure have;
Nor any loss, by which I shall not save.
He makes me ce
•
taine that my former pain,
And this endeavor, some effect shall gain;
Although it compass not that reformation,
Which I desire to see in this our
Nation.
For though their present evils be not staid
From growing worse, by that which I have said;
It shall to other times a warning give,
And aggravate their faults who now do live;
If, having such a plain
Remembrancer,
Their (called for) Repentance they defer.
He bids me know, that though I am not
Sainted,
So much, as of all sin to live untainted,
Yet▪ to oppose each
Vice,
as I am able,
(In word and deed) it will be warrantable;
And, that, to strike at
Sin,
towill all become,
Though
Persons
may be touched but of some.
He tells me, that (although the world shall please
To term it railing, when such
Messages
Are utt
•
ed forth) it cannot bring me shame,
To call g
•
osse
Sinners
by their proper name;
And, that God's blessed
Saints
have done as much,
Who aid the fol
•
ies of their ages tou
•
h.
He wills me that on him I should depend;
And, not distrust that while he me doth s
•
nd
About his bus
•
nesse, he will suffer mine
To be unprosperous, or my soul to pine.
Since unto him that for his glory strives,
The promise of all needful things he gives.
He strengthens me, and gives me satisfaction
Against all envy, malice, or detraction:
Says, that a guiltless conscience needs not care
How bitter or foul▪ mouthed others are:
Perswades me, that if my repute be needful
To honor him; he will, himself, be heedful
To keep it fair: Else, glorifi
•
his
Name
The more, perhaps, by bringing me to shame.
And, so the Name of God I glorify,
I pleased am, though I have infamy.
By these, and many other such like things
Which God (I trust) to my remembrance brings,
My fainting soul is cheered, when she droupes;
These, raise again my courage when it stoupes:
And though illusions these appear, to some,
Yet, to approve of them a tim
•
will come;
And, when that Day of trial, on shall draw,
(Which I attend for, both with joy and awe)
It shall be known, whose heart was most upright▪
Or mine, or theirs, that in my harm delight:
For, then their
Justice
which a veil yet wears.
Will shine like
Phoebus
when no Cloud appears.
Thereof (just now) I have an earnest given:
These
Musings
drew it (for me) down frō heaven:
I feel them warm my heart, and fetch again
My chilled blood, to run in every vein.
They rouse my spirits, and my drooping soul
They so revive, that now I could control
An host of
Kings.
For, now (ju
•
t now) the glowing,
Of their kind
•
eat, I find more strongly growing:
Just now I feel in me their operation,
To urge me forward to the consummation
Of what my fo
•
mer
Canto's
have beg
•
n:
And, Go
•
assi
•
ting that shall no
•
be done
To thee oh
London,
I directed last
My just reproof; And I will back
•
a
•
d cast
An eye on thee again: For, off I brake
My speech before my mind I fully spake.
I have not vented yet, what I could say
Of many sins abounding at this day;
As, thy intemp'rancy, and thy excess
In food and raiment, thy loose drunkenness;
Thy multitudes of beggars, which increase
For want of orders, in thy Times of peace.
Thy Sloth, Lust, Avarice, and all that rabble
Of vices, and of things abominable
Which in each corner of thy streets appear,
As if they justly tolerated were.
I touched not thy corrupted
Officers,
I have not mentioned thy
Senators,
Nor have I shown as yet what scandal grows
To thee, and unto thine, by some of those;
How partial, nor how ignorant they be,
How prejudicial many times to thee,
And to thy public weal, for private gain▪
How cowardly thy
Customs
they maintain▪
How
•
eadily thy Freedomes they betray
(If their promotions, it ought further may,
Or spare their purses) This, I have not shown,
For, what belongs thereto, is better known
To others then to me. Yet, much hath been
Of them reported; and I much have seen
Of their condition, which deserveth blam
•
▪
Nor do I greatly wonder at the same▪
But I, much rather marvel that in thee
So many prudent
Senators
there be;
Since, very few of all thy double dozen
For Courage, wit or honesty are chosen.
Wealth makes an
Alderman
(however got)
If he be pleased to accept the Lot.
In hope to gain his
Fine,
thou wilt adventer
To let the most ignoble fellow enter
That is but rich; and worthy men forgo,
Who to thy Government, might ho
•
or do.
Thou seldom carest how he did become
So
••
ch, if he but harrow up the sum
Th
•
t makes him capable of such a place;
Nor heedest thou, a jot, how base he was.
No honest
Occupations
I contemn,
Nor their professors; but I honor them,
Though of the lowest order; If I find
They have not lost the virtues of the mind,
In those mean Callings; and, have sought as much
In knowledge, as in money, to be rich:
Yea, those (when from poor fortunes they ascend,
To wealth) to honor also I commend.
But, is it possible, that man whose mind
To serve his
Mammon
only, was inclined;
Or is it possible, the man that had
By birth and breeding, nothing but a trade
To get experience by; (and, that perchance
•
ome handicraft, which furthers ignorance
In useful knowledge) or, that they who scrape
And scratch together an unwieldy heap
Of needless riches, by penurious fare;
By sparing
•
esse, in what they should not spare:
Or, which is worse, by cruellest extortion;
By robbing others of their lawful portion,
By rapine, guile, and such impieties;
Isit possible (I say) when these m
•
n rise
To wear thy scarlet-Robe; that they will be
Or honor, or advantage unto thee?
If those black
Aeth
•
ops,
if those
Leopards,
change
Their spots, or color, I shall think it strange:
If ever they regard what weights be thrown
Upon thy back, so they may ease their own:
Or for thine honor stand (who have no sense
Of anything▪ but
saving,
and
expense)
I shall beleve that Wolves will tend our Sheep,
And greedy Kites, young Chickens harmless keep.
I might have mention made of that report
Which is divulged of thy
Orphans court
:
Of those perpetual
Jurors,
which for pay
Attend judicial trials day by day:
Of those
Engrossers
who thy trades abuse;
Of those who make thy
Freedomes
and thy
Dues
A damage to thee: and of other some,
Who other ways injurious are become,
I might have spoke; and would; but that I hear
•
They do already sound in every ear.
Truth is, the spreading leprosy of sin,
Into thy very walls have eaten in,
And will not thence be scraped out (I fear)
As long as there be stones, or mortar there.
Thy
Vineyard
brings not forth wild grapes alone,
In lieu of all thy God bestowed thereon;
But, also, of it self prevents his curse,
And hath produced what is ten times worse:
Thorns, briars, nettles, hemlock, and such weeds
As choke all pleasant plants, and fruitful seeds.
No place, no person, calling, nor degree,
Nor sex, nor age, is from corruption free.
Within thy Chambers lodgeth
Wantonness
;
Upon thy
Boards
is heaped all excess:
With vomitings, they oft o'reflowed are;
And, from uncleannesses no
Roome
is clear.
Thy
Hals
are daily filled with a rabble
That stand and swear about a Shove-groat table.
Within thy
Parlors,
I can little see,
But visiting of
Mistress-idle-be.
Within thy
Wardrobes, Pride
lays up her store▪
Upon thy
Couches, Sloth
dot
•
lie and snore.
Within thy
Pleading-Courts,
are shameless railings,
And, of upright proceeding, many failings.
Thy
Churches
(be it spoke without offense)
Are full of rudeness, and irreverence.
Thou usest in thy
Shops
•
alse weights and lying;
Vnpitied at thy
Dores,
the poor a
•
e crying.
Within thy
Closs
•
ts,
mischiefs are invented;
Thy
Theaters
a
•
e usu
•
lly frequented
Wit
•
perso
•
s dissolute: disparag'd are
Sometimes, the most de
•
erving actions, there.
There, see you may uncomely p
•
esentations,
And often hear unchristian p
•
ophanations.
Yea, ev'
•
y corn
•
, every street, and p
•
th
An overf
••
w of sin, and folly hath.
Am
•
ng thy
Feasts,
are surfeiting
•
unclean;
Vain curiosities, and songs obsceane.
Thy
Merry m
•
etings
the procurers be
Of most disor
•
ers that are found in thee:
There, lawless games are used; there, are broached
Vile sl
•
nders; and, good men are there reproached.
There, they that a
•
e not good, are oft made worse
By lewd examples▪ or profane discourse.
And, few contentions have occasioned been,
But, at such meetings, they did first beg
•
n.
Thy
Aged-folk
are froward, avaricious,
Self willed, and imprudently ambitious.
The
younger fort,
are
•
eadstro
•
g, rash, and haughty,
Thy
Children
are forgetful of their duty.
The men imperiously their power abuse,
And counsel from their helpers do refuse.
Thy
women
▪ too much dote on vain attire
•
,
And are incon
•
taunt in their own desires.
The
Magistrates
do bad examples give,
And, as men borne but for themselves they live.
Of persons, they retain too much respect:
Their places, for their credits, they affect
(O
•
for their gain) but n
•
t for conscience sake▪
Inferior
Officers,
do also take
The self-same courses: and (in what they do)
Are parti
•
ll, cruel and unfaithful to.
Few single-persons live in chastity;
In
Marriage,
there is much disloyalty.
Perpe
•
uall suites, and quarrels I do see
Among those Neig
•
bour
•
, that sh
•••
d loving be:
No malice is like that which I have known,
Twixt Brothers, when dissention hath been sown.
Their p
•
actices, who friend
•
hip do p
•
ofesse
(In my op
•
nion) promise nothing less:
For, all their form all kindness, oft is spent
In visitings, and fruitless complement.
And, all t
•
ey seek (for ought that I perceive)
Is, how they one another may deceive
In friendly Terme
•
; Or, how to do as they
Who act the parts o
•
friendship in a
Play.
Thy Richmen, do Idolatry commit
With
M
•
mmon,
and God's benefi
•
s fo
•
get.
Am
•
ng the poor are many wicked t
•
ings;
Impaciency, ungodly murmurings,
Theft, scolding fightings, cursings, taleing, lies;
And though they live by others charities,
N
•
people will pursue each other so
With malice and d
•
spig
•
t as they will do.
At D
•
ores and windows,
Strumpets
impudent
D
•
e si
•
; and wanton gestures there invent
To woo, by their allu
•
ìng provocations,
Vain men to drink their Cup of Fo
•
ni
•
ations.
T
•
y
Suburbs,
are the Coverts, and the den
W
••
rein are sh
•
ltred many beasts unclean.
Thy
Taverns,
are the places where most soul
And heinous things are done, without control.
There▪ d
•
ink they
healths,
till
health
is drunk away;
And, naught ashamed are to let the day
Be w
••
nesse of their drunken vomitings,
Brawles,
•
eelings, ravings, and such brutish things:
Nay, to consume the day in drunkenness,
A
•
d all the night, is nothing now, unless
T
•
e Hoboyes, Cornets, Drum and Trumpet sound,
To tell the neighbors how the healths go round.
And when, acco
•
ding to their heathenish fashions,
They offer up their devilish
Drink-obla
••
ons,
What do they better then Idolatries,
And Festivals, to
Bacchus
solemnize?
In thee (beside thy proper faults) are found
Those also which are common, and abound
Throughout thy
Kingdoms.
And even thou, and they
Have been companions in one evil way.
We all, as in one Teeme, have drawn on sin;
God's promises and threatenings mocked have been;
The lust man's righteousness we have bely'd;
And, sinners, in their sins, have justified.
Of
Good
and
Evil,
we exchange the name;
And, that, which to remember, is our shame,
Or should with grief repented be; even that
We tell with laughter; and make jests thereat.
God's Judgments work not on us; we are scourged;
And yet, unto amendment are not urged.
We break the
Sabbath-days,
and we despise
The
Churches
power, and her
Solemnities.
Her
Holy-times
to us are wearisome;
And in our hearts, we wish the morrow come,
That we might freely buy and sell again.
Those Messengers we soonest entertain,
That of strong drink, and wine, do prophe
•
ie;
And,
Truth
is not so welcome as a
•
ye.
We sooth our neighbors in their sinfulness:
And (that their secrets, and their nakedness
We may discover) we the wine bestow;
Then, work upon then to their overthrow.
Upon our lusts, the precioust things we spend;
And unto God the
Lame
and
Blind
we send.
We rob him of his Tythes, and his Oblations,
Our public
Fasts,
are public profanation
•
:
For, even our pray'rs, our fasts, our alms, and all,
Are oft for show, and hypocritical:
And used more, our safeties to provide,
Then that our
Maker
may be glorified.
Our hearts against God's Prophets hardened are▪
And what they preach or threat, we little care.
The Land, throughout, because of
Othes
doth mourn;
We stagger in our paths; and to return
To
Egypt
ready seem; unless God grant
(
•
t our first longing) every toy we want.
The blood of Innocents hath spilled been
Upon our skirts; most filthy things are seen
Within our vessels; and, yet, some of us
Presume to say (even to our brethren) thus;
Stand off, for we more holy are then ye.
And, these like smoke within God's nostrils be▪
We stumble at noon day: and as the blind,
We groap, uncertainly, the wall to find▪
With
Death,
and
Hell,
a bargain we have made▪
And, nothing for our hopes, but lies have had.
If any Moral Verues do appear;
With some unsavoriness they leavened are.
If any do a kindness to his brother,
It is in policy to get another:
Or else, with some upbraiding, or vain boast,
Whereby the comfort of the deed is lost.
If ought be spoken to another's praise,
It is some p
•
ofit to ourselves to raise.
If comfort to the grieved be p
•
etended,
The grieved party is as ill bef
•
iended
As
Job:
For, what we do is but for fashion;
Without good meaning, wisdom, or compassion.
If we instruct, we do it but to show
That we much more then other men do know.
If we our brethren's errors do reprov
•
▪
It is not as it ought to be, in love:
But, with such bitterness as plain doth show,
We more the person, then the vice pursue.
We cann
•
t give an Alme
•
, but we must sound
A trumpet: neither wall a rod of ground
For public use: nor set a pane of glass
•
In some Church-window, where it needless wa
•
;
Nor trim a pulpit, nor erect a style;
Nor mend a foot path, though but half a mile;
Nor, by the highway side, set up a stone
To get a horseback; but we fixe thereon
Our
Names,
or somewhere leave upon record,
What befactors we have been (
good Lord
)
For such hypocrisies, and sins a
•
these
On other places, doth God's judgments seize:
For these, thy
Pastors
oft have warned thee;
For these, they said thou shouldst afflicted be:
And, at this present, veng
•
nce is begun;
Thoug
•
ignorant thou seem of what is done.
For these offenses, God did now of late
Make all thy fairest lo
•
gings desolate.
For them, the
Pestilence
continues yet,
A
•
d we with scabs, and sores, and blames are smit.
For them, thou of thy braveries uncloth'd,
Wert in thy greatest sorrow, left and loath'd,
For them, a Famine lately did begin.
For them, have goodly habitations been
Consum'd by fire. For this, the goods of some
A prey to Seas, and Pirates are become.
For them, thy tradings fail, that were enlarged;
And thou sor single gain, art double charged.
For them, the
Sword
(that such a while hath hung
Sheath'd up) is newly drawn, and will ere long
Devoure thy sons and daughters; if there be
No more Repentance then yet seems in thee:
Ye throughout all this
Island,
it will rage
And lay it wast before another age.
For, not our
•
ities
only tainted are
With sins contagion; but even everywhere
This
Land
is so diseas'd, that many doubt
(Before it mend) some blood must issue out.
There is not any Towneship, Village, Borrough,
Or petty Hamlet, all this Kingdom thorough,
But merits (in proportion) as much blame,
As any City of the greatest fame.
The simple seeming
Peasants
of the Land,
(Who for their
Names
do make their
sh
•
epmark
•
stāl
And have not so much Cle
•
k
•
hip, as to sp
•
ll)
Can play the subtle
•
cheating knaves, as well
As m
•
ny cu
•
ning
Sophisters
; and cogge,
And lie, and prate of Law, and pettifogge
As craftily (some
•
times) as ma
•
y a one
Who, divers years hath studied
Littleton.
Yea, they who never had the wit to learn
Those knowledges which
honesty
concern;
Have witty craft e
•
ough to entertain
Or plot a bargain for unlawful gain.
They persecute each other▪ they envy
Their neighbors welfare, and prosperity;
They drive each other from their tenements;
And are the causes of inhauncing rents,
By over-bidding (for their neighbors Land)
Those Fines the
Land-lords
purposed to demand;
Yet stand their Farms already racked so high,
That
•
hey have beggar'd half their Tenantry.
In divers towns they have decayed tillage;
Depopulated many a goodly village;
Yea, joined field to field, till for the poor
No
place
is yielded, nor
employment
more:
And, where were households, lately, many a one,
A Shepherd and his Dog, now dwell alone.
To make of griping Usury their trade,
Among the Rich, no scruple now is made
In any place: for, every Country Village,
Hath now some
Usury,
as well as
Tillage.
Yea, they that
lending
most of all detest,
Though but for tolerated Interest,
Do nathelesse take those
Annuities,
Which often prove the biting'st
Usuries.
By nature,
Money
no increase doth bring:
Most, therefore, think it a prodigeous thing
That Money put to lone, should bring in gain.
Yet some of these, by practice do maintain
As monstrous usuries, and naught at all
Are tou
•
hed in their conscience therewithal.
In usury of Cattle, or of Leases,
We may disburse our money for increases
More biting far, then those he dares to take,
Who by mere lending, doth advantage make.
As Money nat'rally produceth naught,
So, by the Earth small profit forth is brought
Until both cost and labor we bestow,
For little, else, but thorns and weeds will grow.
The
Landlord,
therefore, here I dare aver,
To be no less a griping Usurer
Then is the
Money-master,
if he break
The Rule of Christian Charity, and take
More profit then his tenant can affo
•
d;
And such as these are hated of the
Lord.
Of
Usurers,
there are some other sorts,
Who keep no certain place: but, both in Courts▪
In Cities, and in Country towns they dwell,
And in the trick of griping they excel.
There be of these, that
Use
for
Silence
take.
Some others, an usurious profi
•
make
Of their
Authorities
; and do advance
Their wealth, by giving others countenance.
Their carriages, their neighbors fetch, and bring;
They have their seed-time and their harvesting,
Dispatcht almost for nothing: such as these,
Are many of our Country
Justices.
Some, by another engine profit catch:
They must be prayed and paid for dispatch.
Yea,
Cla
•
kes,
and many other
Officers,
Are greater, and more hateful Usurers,
Then they that most a
•
e hated for that crime▪
Since these do often for a little time
(Which they delay unjustly) take what may
Of no mean sum, the annual Interest pay.
These men are cruel. And, yet worse by far,
Most
Treasurers,
and their pay-m
•
sters are.
For, that which due unto us doth remain,
They do not only overlong detain.
But, oft, of every hundred, twenty take,
E're payment of our own, to us, they make.
They must have Bribes; their wives must have Caro
•
hes
Or ho
•
se, or jewels; after which encroches
Their servant also, for some other dues
(As they p
•
etend) which if we do refuse
To pay unto them, twice as much we leese.
This trick enricheth also
•
eferres
In
Chancery,
and in some other Courts
And this or makes, or marreth most
Reports,
This, is that common Cheat, and means by which
Mean Officers, so speedily grow rich,
Although they give large
Incomes.
By this way
Their wives do on a sudden grow so gay,
That were but Kitchen-maid
•
few years before.
Yea, many in the blood of Orphans poor,
Have dide their gowns in scarlet by such courses,
And clothed, & fed themselves, with widows cu
•
ses.
But, these
Destroyers,
make not spoil of all▪
For,
•
ull as many into ruinefall
By complement, and foolish emulating
Their neighbors; otherwhile, by imitating
The
City
Fashions. Yea, by these, and some
Such other ways, are many men become
So wėake in their estates; that most of those
Who live in fashion, and make handsome shows
Of being rich, would prove (I am afraid)
Far worse then nothing, if their debts were paid.
This floweth from our pride, or from excess;
And this is cause of other wickedness▪
But, in our Island, one thing I have seen,
Which (though it hath not much observed been
To be a fault) will make a large addition
To fill the measure of this
Lands
transgression.
And much I am afraid, that all in vain
I shall of this impiety complain.
For,
Avarice,
who naught will give away,
Whereon her griple fingers she can lay,
Pleads for it: yea, and
Custom
hath so long
Confirm'd it, that, it is a lawful wrong▪
I do not mean the
Laities
retaining
Of
Tithes,
or
Lands
unto the
Church
pertaining.
For, though I would not build my house with ought▪
Which from the
Sanctuary
had been
•
c
•
ught,
To gain the world, y
•
t, I may do amiss
To judge of others Consciences in this.
It is the barbarous usage, wherewith we
Do entertain those men that shipwra
•
kt be,
Which here I mean: For, many people have
Less mercy then the Tempest, and the wave.
That
Vessel,
which the Rocks had pity on,
The cruelty of man doth seize upon;
And him that is oppressed, quite bereaves
Of what the quicksand und
•
voured leaves.
When some poor ship upon the billows tost,
Is driven by a storm upon the Coast,
With rudder lost, with t
•
cklings rent and torn,
With main-mast split, and fore-mast overborne;
And reels and rowles, and takes in water so
That all the Mariners through fear forgo
Their crazy
Charge,
some swimming to the shore
•
On pieces of the decke, or broken oars.
Some on an empty Chest; some holding fast
O
•
splinters of a Yard, or of a Mast;
Now riding on the waves; straight sinking down▪
Now hoping life, anon afraid to drown;
Pu
•
off, and on; yet lab'ring to attain
The Land, in hope more pity there to gain:
I
•
this poor plight, when they (with much ado)
A dryer
•
lement have
•
ea
•
ht unto,
And, wet and tired (both on feet and hands)
Come creeping, or else staggering on the sands▪
The neighb'ring people (who in this are far
More s
•
lvage, then most barbarous Nations are)
Instead of bringing comfort and relief,
Add new afflictions to their former grief,
By taking that small means which is reserved
To keep them living, when their life's prese
•
ved.
Fo
•
, those remaining fragments of the
•
r store,
Which God, sometimes, in pity sends ashore
To help n
•
w clothe and feed them, till there come
Some friends to aid them; or supplies from home;
Even spoil of those they mak
•
: and of th
•
prey
•
o greedy are; that often when these may
Men's lives preserve, they leave them to their chance,
In hope their death, their profit will advance.
And, if that b
•
uised-
Bark
which they fo
•
sook
(To save their lives) upon some Ouze hath struck,
Or on some shelve; from whence, by timely aid,
The goods to land may safely be convaid.
Or if (as chance it may) the
Hull
be saved,
Yet, thereof, is the
Owner
qui
•
e bereaved.
For, by a brutish
Custom
(which, I know,
Nor
Co
•
sci
•
nce,
nor good
Reason
doth allow)
Some
Officer
who farms the Royalties
Within that place, doth make thereof a prize.
Else, he that owns the Land whereon it falls,
Doth seize it: and, his right, the same he calls.
Pa
•
l
did a peop
•
e, even at
Malta,
find,
(Although a barb'rous Island) far more kind.
Men wracked, they comforted; but we bereave them
Of those remainders which the Sea doth leave them;
Except some living thing abiding be
Aboard the Ship. For, then the same is fr
•
e
From being pr
•
v'd a wrack (we say) though that
Which there surviveth, be some Dog, o
•
Cat:
A goodly matter, surely, whereupon
Poor men should be reli
•
ved, or undone.
Some dw
•
llers, also, on those Borders, where
Such woeful sights, too often viewed are,
Rejoice to see them; yea, some people say,
That, for such mischiefs, they both watch and pray;
With curs
•
s, banning the
•
, who set up
Lights,
To guide the
Seaman
in dark stormy nights.
And (though they
•
eek it with a devilish mind)
God's-good,
they call, what on the shore th
•
y find.
God's-gift,
in
•
eed it is, which unto them
Do
•
h from the Seas, without an owner swim:
Yet, when the master of it shall be known▪
God's gift
it is not; but a bai
•
, that's thrown
To catch the souls of those, who seek to raise
Their fortunes on distressed men's decays.
No marvel, while such cruelties are found
(Upon the Coast) the Sea o'reflowes her bound.
No marvel, she so often, here and there,
Doth from their fields so many furlongs tear.
No marvel she, sometime, their cattle drowns,
And, sweeps away the rich
•
s of their towns:
Or, of those people, otherwhile, devours
So many households, in a few sho
•
t hours:
For, since they grieved others, in distress,
The Sea, to them, is justly merciless.
Of many other things, complain I could,
Which th
•
ough this Kingdom, I amiss, behold:
But, should I now an Inven
•
ory make
Of each abuse, whereof I notice take
In all professions; sure, it would go near,
To find my
Readers,
reading for a year.
I fear, our gen'
•
all Body f
•
reth so,
As, in the
•
sickness, they often do
Who feel not their disease, when they are nigh
(Without good help) upon the point to die.
They would not be distu
•
b'd; but, vex and fret,
At those who do prepare them wholesome meat,
Or needful Physic: and, perhaps, with me
My
Country,
also, will displeased be.
But, for unjust displeasure, 'tis no matter;
As faith
•
ull friends (to sick men) will not slatter,
Nor humor them in any such
disease
;
No more will I be fearful to displease
A sickly people, when I truly know,
I do that work my Conscience calls me to.
I tell thee therefore,
Britain,
thou art sick;
Thy sins have made thee so; and thou art like
To perish in them, if thou physic take not,
And, for thy safety, good provision make not.
If thou nor feelest, nor wilt
•
redit give
To what is spoken: Mark thou, and believe
The
Symptoms
of it. For, they will declare
So truly, how (at this time) thou dost far
•
,
That they who are not reasonless, shall see
And say (in times to come) I loved thee.
Behold, even at this day, throughout the
Land,
Most
Manu-factories
are at a stand;
And, of those
Engines,
some main wheels are broke,
Though where they faulty be, small heed be took.
Thy
Mer
•
hants,
by whose trade great profit comes
(And, to the Kings
Exchequer,
royal sums)
Those
M
•
rcuries,
by whose industrious pain.
Thou di
•
st become
•
the
Mistress
of the
Maine,
And art maintained with ships, which are the walls,
By which thy temp'rall gr
•
atnesse,
•
t
••
ds, or falls.
Even they, begin to sink, for want of trade,
And through those boo
•
ies which of them are m
•
de.
Their Ship
•
without advantage are employed;
And if the Wars, or Time, had them destroyed
Which are in being; they have (to augment
Or fill the number) no encouragement.
The present muster of thy shipping, fails
Of what it was, in many scores of fails,
Not long
•
ime since: and, thy next neigh'bring nation
Growes rich in thy decaying Navigation.
Yea, some suspect, that of our public Trade
(For private profit) sale to them is made.
Indeed,
•
ost
Office
•
s,
if so they may
Enlarge thei
•
profits, for the present day;
Or gain, or save the King, but for a year,
Some though
••
and
•
, do suppose they much endear
Their service to the
State:
when ('tis well known
To us abroad) the gain is most their own:
And that, before two ages more be spent,
The ways by which their incomes they augment,
Will cost this Kingdom, for each ounce of gold
So got, hundred, if their courses hold.
It is by them, the Prince becometh poor.
And (thou
•
h they would be thought (forsooth) much more
Then all his other subjects, to maintain
The dues belonging to a
Sovereign)
They rob him more, then all men else beside:
They lose him ten times more then they provide.
They make him needy first; and then they grieve,
And beggar them, that should his wants relieve.
The vulgar
Cit
•
z
•
ns
do much complain
For want of tra
•
e sufficient to maintain
Their families; and, many, lately broken,
Are of that poverty a certain token.
That famous and that wealthy Merchandize,
Which from our clothings, and our wool
•
arise,
Is much decayed. For work, the poor man prays:
The
Clothier
hath not money; and he lays
The blame upon the
Merchant
; who doth swear,
His ships and goods, so often stayed are,
And times so giddy, and so little got
(With so much peril) that he dareth not
To make adventures, as
〈◊〉
e
•
st hath done▪
And, so, to ruin all is like to run.
For, from their voyages so oft have some
Beene hindered (or have been so long from home
In fruitfulesse services) that it hath brought
Rich
Owners,
and their
Vessels,
unto naught.
Some others, also find it, to maintain
Their, shi
•
s so costly, (without hope of gain)
That to repair them they do stand in fear
It may undo them, e're things bettered are;
That (might their men be safe) they do protest▪
They know not, if to sink, or swi
•
were best.
The winds and seas, that here
•
ofore ha
•
e borne us
Good will; have proved our foes, and
〈◊〉
& torn u
•
.
Our
Mariners
are like to run away
To serve our foes, for want of work▪ and pay.
Those places, and those portion
•
, which belong
To men's deserts; and should to make them strong,
And to encourage them, conferred be;
Are otherwise d
•
spos
•
d of: and w
•
see
The most deserving men are in disgraces▪
Or else neglected; or else, in their places
Impoverished (or else disheart
•••
so)
T
•
at some men will not; and some cannot do
Their Country that good service which they might.
And, if this hold, we lose our honor quite.
By those adventures, which are just and free
To every Nation, where good
Patriots
be,
Thy sons, to fetch thee wealth, and honor home,
Would prodigal of goods and lives become;
By private cost, augment the public store,
And by encr
•
ase of shipping guard thy shore;
If they might freely seek, and keep that lot,
Which by their cost and valor might be got.
But, men that are of courage, and of worth,
Disdaine their goods and lives to hazard forth,
On servile terms; or, to be prey'd upon
When they return, by some ignoble
Drone
:
And, by this means, oh thou unhappy
I will,
Thy
•
oes grow strong, & thou grow'st weak the while.
I do protest, I see not that condition
Of man, that hath a fortune in fruition,
That is not perilsome; but, he that's borne
The mischiefs of this present life to scorn.
Nor from the highest to the low'st degree,
Doth any man well pleased seem to be.
The King complains of want: his Servants say,
They stand engaged in more then they can pay:
And they who in their person service do him,
Want much of that which should oblige them to him.
The charge of
War,
still more and more doth grow;
The
Customs
fail as trading falleth low:
There's new occasion every day of spending,
And much more borr'wing, then good means of lending.
'It is said, some royal Rents to sale were profer'd;
That
Jewels
of the
Crown
to pawn were offered:
Tha
•
Church
Revennues, for the present need,
Sequestred are (to stand a while instead
Of temp'ralties) And▪ some themselves persuade,
That, they shall now be lay possessions made.
But, God forbid: for he that shall bereave
The
Church
of her inhe
•
itance, doth leave
A curse upon his children; which will stay
Vn
••
ll his whole descent be woe
•
ne away.
To help thy wants, (so great it seems they prove)
There be of those who did not blush to move
Religion might be set to
•
ale; and that
We might promiscuous worships tolerate.
The common people murmur of oppressions;
Of being robbed of their due possessions;
Of impudent abuses, done by those
Who should redress them: every wind that blows,
Brings tidings of ill luck; yet, still men fear
There's worse untold, then that which they do hear
•
.
For, we have lying News authorised
So long; and falsehoods, have so many spread;
That, when of that a true report is told
Whereof a firm belief receive we should,
We cannot credit it: and, this, perchance,
May to our safety be some hindrance.
If in ourselves, we feel not what's amiss,
Observe we, by
•
eflection, what it is.
The
Germane
Emp'rour, and two
King
•
,
that be
As rich and pow'rfull, every way as he,
Are Foes pro
•
essed; and they bend their power,
Our Countries, and our Nation to devour:
And, while to fight God's battle
•
men do fain▪
The Kingdom of the Devil they maint
•
ine.
Our
Friends,
and our
Consederates
; for us,
Engag'd in undertakings dangerous.
Have suffered loss; and yet, in hazard are
By an unequal and injurious war.
Some, who possess an Union with our Land,
Do work their own advantage underh
••
d,
To our disgrace and losses. Other some,
Are neuters yet, who will our foes become,
And with our enemies the spoil divide,
If any ill
Adventur
•
shall betide.
That princely
Branch
of our most royal
Stem,
Made poor by the
Bohemian
Diadem,
(But, rich in her own virtues, and that trea
••
re
Of heavenly graces, which in plenteous measure
God's bounty gave her) that illustrious
D
•
me,
(To whom I owe, even more then all I am)
Lives banished, (oh! the mischieves of this age)
And quite excluded from her heritage.
Her
LORD,
and all those dear and hopeful
Peeces,
Drawne off by them; the
Nephews,
and the
Neeces
Of our dread
Sovereign,
are as pilgrims, fain
Within a foreign Country to remain.
Our costly
Treaties,
do but crossely speed.
Our new
Alliance,
proves a broken Reed.
Our fo
•
rain enterprises, full of charge,
Do serve but others glories to enlarge.
Our mighty
Navies
strongly furnished ou
•
,
Have lost their pains, in what they went about.
One little
Town
keeps all our Ports in fear;
Upon the Seas, our
Coasters
scared are;
And, we that bore the
Trident
of the Seas;
We, who of l
•
te, with smaller Fleets, then these
Which now we set aflote, did once contstrain
The
Carraks,
and the
Argofies
of
Spain
To strike their sails: we, that have awe'd the
Deeps,
And every
Foreland,
through the world, that peeps
Above the
Seas
: yea, we that from each shore,
Whereon the brinish waves of
Neptune
roar,
Have brought rich Trophies of our valours home,
Now, back with neither spoils, nor honors, come.
God, with our
Fleets,
and
Armies,
doth not so
Go forth of late, as he did use to do.
But, divers years together, as of
•
ended,
His arm ag
••
nst our forces h
•
th extended▪
That hopeful
Voyage,
w
•
ich brave
Rawleigh
made,
To prosecute though
•
e golden hopes he had,
Was overthrown, and, (to enlarge the cost)
In him, we more in wit, th
•
n money lost.
For, to resist us, God himself did stand:
And, st
•
ll against us, he extends his hand.
Upon
A
•
geir
we had a fair design,
That much extracted from our silver Mine,
But▪ nothing prospered, which was then projected,
Nor was there ought, but loss and shame effected;
For, God preserved our enemies from harm:
And, still, against us, stretcheth he his arm.
When in
Virginia
we had n
•
rsed long
Our
Colonies,
and hoped they were strong▪
And, almost able to subsist alone:
By n
•
ked people they were set upon,
And, sore endangered:
For, on us▪ fo
•
ill,
God laid his hand; and lays it on us still.
Auxiliary forces, forth we se
•
t;
(Or, voluntarily from us they went)
To settle on
Bohemiahs
fatal throne,
Him, whom that
Land
had cast her choice upon.
But, there our men were wasted: and in steed
Of
Jacob's staff,
we proved
Egypt's-reed
:
For, God against our pow'rs his power did set;
And, he his band doth raise against us,
•
et.
We made new
Leavies,
and marched up the
Rhine,
To guard the Country of the
Palatine
;
But, all in vain. For, nothing did we there,
Except prolong the miseries of
War.
God, would not that delivered they should be
By people that so wicked are as we.
But, scourged them and us, in bitter wise;
And, still, his heavy hand upon us lies.
Then, mustered we
Ambassadors
together;
We sent them oft, and almost every whither;
But, by our Treaties we acquired naught:
Nay, many disadvantages they brought;
For, then, our foes for battle did prepare,
When we of peace together treating were.
Yea, God hath caused the h
•
rme that they have done us;
And, still, his hand li
•
s heavily upon us.
The fortune of the
War
we tried again
By
Mansfield
; which did
••
kewise prove in vain.
To
Denmark
also we did send supplies,
And there, moreover, sick and bleeding lies
O
•
r honor.
And, yet still, against our Land
The
Lord of Hosts
hath stret
•
hed out his hand.
Throughout the
Eastern Indies
where we had
A wealthy and an honorable Trade,
A petty Nation, doth now baffle, dare us,
And, out of trading, hope e're long to wear us.
Our glorious Fleet, that lately braved
Cales,
Of her exploits affords not many tales.
Another▪ and another too, since then,
Was put to sea, and driven home agen
All shaken and be
•
atter'd. Some, the wind
Sent back, and frustrate made what was designed.
Some others, were by other lets delayed,
And, made to fail, in that which they assail'd:
For, God with this our Nation was offended;
And, yet, his hand against us
〈◊〉
extended.
Another
N
•
vie,
worthy greater note,
Then all of these forenamed, now doth flo
•
e
Upon the seas: and such a fame it bears,
That all the neighb
•
ring kingdom
•
it deters.
For,
Land
and
Sea
it threatens: and we hear
Before the
I will
of
Ree,
at rode they are,
Where they of brave achievements hopeful grow.
I wish, and I do pray it may be so
As they desi
•
e, if God be
•
l
•
as'd therein.
But, much I fear, that we have guilty been
Of somewhat unrepented yet, that will
Make all our undertakings prosper ill,
Till we are humbled more. For, God hath lain
His heavy hand upon us, long in vain.
And, though our hearts with foolish hopes we fill,
His Arm, against us, forth he stretcheth still.
Or else it could not be our forces great,
So many times should suffer a d
•
feat.
•
or when a lesser Fleet was sent to do
A
Mischi
•
fe,
it had power enough thereto.
But let us take a little further heed;
How ill our hopes in foreign parts succeed.
The
French
and
Germane
Churches, in w
•
ose ca
•
e,
And in whose persecutions we do share;
Have been afflicted in a grievous wise,
And still a heavy but then on them lies.
God's foes, and theirs, and ours, have cras
•
ily
Combined in a strong confederacy
The tents of
Edom,
and the
Ishma'lites,
The seed of
Agar
▪ and the
M
•
abites,
With
Ashur,
and the sons of
Lot
conspire;
With
Gebal, Ammon, Amalek,
and
Tyre.
Yea,
Gog
and
Magog
; close and open foes,
E
•
'n all those Armies which God's truth oppose,
(And by the
Names,
here mention
•
d, figured were)
Confederated, and resolved are,
To prey upon us.
Come, now come,
•
ay they,
Let's root their Nation, and their Name away.
And, if our God be silent over-long,
Their strength increasing, will increase the wrong
His
Church
endures: our cause will be o'rethrowne,
And, they will take God's houses for their own.
If yet, thou dost not feel thy sickly case,
Nor in these foreign glasses view thy face,
Look home agen; and I will show thee there
Moe things, that worthy notice will appear.
There, thou shalt find distr
•
ction in the
State
;
The
Commons,
and some
Nobles,
at debate;
The
Court
it self disturbed with disunions;
Some following others; some their own opinions;
Some striving,
•
rom their seats, their mates to thrust;
Few knowing in who
•
e friendship they may trust.
There see thou shalt most seeking the disgraces
Of o
•
hers; and in all their fellows places
Men so experienced, that they leave to do
Those duties, they themselves are called unto.
There, thou shalt see such foolish imitations;
Such complements; such gross
•
issimulations;
Such
•
ractices; such projects, and devices;
Contriving o
•
such foolish paradises;
Such doing and undoing, what is done;
That, 'twill be matter worthy musing on▪
Those
Offices,
and those high seats of
State,
(Est
•
em'd mo
•
t honorable) are of late
Become so sk
•
ttish; or the men that get them,
Such artl
•
sse riders, that they cannot sit th
•
m.
When lived, at once, so many, who did c
•
ry,
(And left disgraced) the st
•
les of
S
•
cretary,
Of
Chamberlain, Chief-Justice, Treasurer,
Of Lord
high Keeper,
and Lord
Chancel
•
r?
Of these, and other
•
itles, when was s
•
ene
Such chopping and such changing, as hath been
In later years? sure, something is amiss,
That such uncertainty among us is.
Those pers
•
nages, whose words were heretofore
As
Oracles
; are credited no more
Then Cheaters are. Their hand & seal doth stand
For nothing, if no other come in band.
So void are some advanced to high place,
Of common understanding, and of grace,
That neither shame, nor loss, which doth befall
To other men, can move them ought at all.
But, as men marked for Venge
•
nce, or else sent
For thy dishonor, and thy punishment,
They dare proceed t
•
practice every sin
For which thei
•
predecessors shent have been.
Nay, some who for corruption were removed
To give those place, mi
•
ht well have been approved
Respecting them; if all the people's cries,
From just occa
•
ion may be thought to rise.
Yea▪ they have just
•
fi
•
d, and honor done them,
Who went before, in having overgone them
In doing wrongs. And, in those wrongs they do,
They are so p
•
actised, and hardened to,
That no examples, or fair warning shall
Ta
•
e place ('tis thought) till they have ruined all.
Some
Offices
are grown so over large
For those who undertake them, to discharge,
Else, they that have them, so unable are,
Or of their duties have so little care,
Th
•
t suitors poo
•
e have many times attended
Whole months together, e're they were befriended,
So much,
•
o have their humble suits perused.
Yet, these, as if they had not else abused
The
Common-wealth
enough, do often add
To those employments which before they had,
New
Offices
; and take so much upon
Their feeble shoulders, that no good is done.
If thou observest men's communication,
Thou hear it shalt so full of desperation,
As if they feared God had us forsaken,
And, to some other place himself
•
etaken.
But, thou, indeed, his
Covenant
hast b
•
oke;
His Word distrusted; his Commands forsook;
And, aid from
Egypt,
and from
Ashur
sought,
Whose true
••
less f
•
iendship will avail thee naught.
Nay, some there be, that in these days of evil,
Advise to make atonements with the Devil.
For, they do little better who would call
The
Turk
•
,
to help maintain the
Churches
wall.
Yea, they who make that Foe our aid
•
ecome,
Do save a hou
•
e, by firing
Ch
•
istendome.
The
Land
appears, as if
•
t rip
•
ning were
For
Desolation
: and even everywhere
Most
•
en are grown so p
•
odigally vain;
So greedily pursue they pre
•
en
•
gain;
And, from this pleasant
Kingdom
have so rent
Her woods, her grov
•
s, and every ornament,
(With
•
ut all care of pla
•
ting, or renewing
For their
Posterities,
in times ensuing)
As if they either thought, or did foresee,
That when they died▪ the world would ended be▪
Or that, before the following generations,
This Land should be possessed by other
Nations.
We have not power their counsel to receive,
Who for our safeties best advisement give:
For, in themselves, such baseness most retain,
That, all are thought to aim at private gain.
And doubtless we have many
Mountebanks,
Who arrogate the profit and the thanks
Of others labors; or else seek to cross
Their good designs, to their disgrace and loss.
Yea, such extreme corruptions everywhere
In men of every quality appear,
That whatsoever reasons may be rendered,
To prove that by some courses which are tendered,
(To be proceeded in) the common peace
Or profit might in future times increase,
And be advanced, a million by the year:
Yet, if but any p
•
ivate persons fear
It may some income
•
f
•
om their ch
•
sts withdraw,
For which they neither Conscience have nor Law:
These men (if they attempt it, and be able
To give a bribe that may be valuable
In any measure) quite shall overthrow
That good designment: and not only so,
But these and they that were their instruments
Shall purchase him who that
design
invents,
(For his reward) both infamy and hate▪
And make themselves appear unto the State
Good
Patriots
; who (being sifted well)
Are scarce so honest men as go to hell.
Rapt by a sp
•
ritual
Vision,
I have seen
The thin and crazy wall, that stands between
Our fight, and their concealed practices,
Who have the place of
Elders
in these days:
And spying there a hole, I dig
•
'd into
Their se
•
resies; to see what works they do.
W
•
ere (not without God's warrant, and his aid)
Most foul abominations I su
•
vaid.
I saw their
Chambers
of
Imagery,
And all those
Objects
of Idolatry
To which they bow, upon the walls depainted:
I saw t
•
ose toys ado
•
ed and besainted:
I saw what strange devo
•
ions there they use;
How they in private do the world abuse▪
And from their
Censers
seemed to arise
A cloud which dim'd the
Sacrificers
ey
•
s.
There (oh! good God) how many did I see,
Who zealous
Prelates
do appear to be?
How many
Statesmen,
and how many a one
That ou
•
high s
•
ats of Judgment si
•
s upon?
How many who
•
igh
•
honest men appear?
In outward show how many draw
•
ng near
Unto their graves? how many learned men?
How many, that will stoutly now and then
M
•
int
•
ine an honest cause, to some g
•
od end,
(For ought we k
•
ow) when they no good
•
ntend
How many ill-disposed men (oh! God)
Who otherwise aff
•
cted seem abroad,
Beh
•
ld I there in secret prostituting
Th
•
mselves to breathless
Idols,
and imputing
Great power unto them? and how base are those
Sometime i
•
private, who make goodly shows
Of noblest thoughts? Some, to the
rising-Sun
Directly kneel; s
•
me, fix their eyes upon
The
Moon,
which from his beams receives her light:
Some, stand devoted to the works of
Night
:
Some, defy their
•
ride,
and some their
Lust
:
In ca
•
nall
Policy,
some put their trust:
Some (as a
Goddess) V
•
ngean
•
e
do emplore:
V
••
ighteous
Mammon,
othersome adore:
With worldly
Honor,
some idolatrize;
Some other, to their
Nets
do sacrifice:
To
Pleasure,
many offer their estates;
H
•
ms
•
lfe to
En
•
y,
one man dedicates:
Another makes
Vaineglories
altars fume,
Till all his pa
•
rimony he consume:
A third, to
Sloth
and
Idleness
doth bow.
Before
Excess
▪ a fourth doth fall as low:
Yea,
Horses, Dogs,
and
Hanks
; even Beasts and Fowl
•
s,
Are Idols of their love. Nor hath their Souls
Id
•
lat
•
iz'd with brutish things alone,
But, even with Gold, and Silver, Wood, and Stone.
Nor have they only of such things as these,
(That real be) set up vain images
Within their hearts; but, they go
•
further, far,
And worship
Fictions,
which the likeness are
Of naught in heaven, ea
•
th, sea, or in the waters
Below the earth; but, mere
fantasticke matters.
And, that by such l
•
ke
God's,
as are their
Treasure,
Their
Honor,
their
Preferment,
and their
Pleasure,
They may be happy made; what things I pray,
To show their zeal (suppose you) offer they?
Even those, respecting which, these gods are vile.
For, they do give unto them, otherwhile,
Their natural rest and sleep; sometime their heal
•
h▪
Sometime what's due to God they take by stealth,
To waste upon their
Mawmets
; and of these,
One ostred is, another to appease.
Their beauteous daughters some of them have given
To
Moloch
: other some their wives have driven
To pass the fire: great numbers make oblations
Of all their friends, to those
Abominations.
To serve them, some, their
Country
set to sale;
Her love, her wealth, her honor, peace, and all.
Yea some, even their own lives to loss expose,
(Their consciences, and souls) for love of those;
And (lest unto a reprobated sense)
With God's and Natures Laws they can dispence
•
Of these, a
Vision
did appear to me:
Judge
Readers,
whe
•
her true or false it be.
If no such doings be, my word
•
contemn,
And let this
Vision
pass but for a
Dream.
If really thou find it to be so,
Then think oh!
Britain,
what thou haft to do.
But, think it seriously: for, things that are
In foulest plight, wi
•
l often f
•
ire appear.
Bel
•
eve not all that shall reported be;
But, prove and search; and trust what thou dost see.
The
Land
is over-spread with wickedness;
Y
•
t, no man will himself in fault confess.
Men daily talk how bad the times are grown,
Yet, few men see an error of their own.
The
Country
is distressed many ways,
And on the
Cities
pride, the blame it lays.
The City finds her trading salleth short,
And thinks the cause thereof is in the
Court,
The
Court
complains, and rails as much agen,
Against the
Farmer,
and the
Citizen.
Our
Parliaments
imputed have of late,
Our troubles to some errors in the
State.
The
State
off
•
nded is, and discontent
With some proceedings in the
Parliament.
Our
Court Divin
•
s,
protest the
Lawyers
stand
So much upon the
Customs
of the Land,
(The
Laws
and ancient
Freedomes,
which belong
Unto the
Commons)
that, the
King
they wrong.
The
People
vow, the
Prelates
flatter so
To get preferment, that they will undo
Both
Church
and
Common-wealth
; & some conceive,
If we their
State-Divinity
believe,
It will of every privilege bereave us,
And no more
Law,
but
Will and Pleasure
leave us.
And, as the
Jews,
to save their
Place,
and
Name,
Did that, which loss of both of them became:
So, thought it is, th
•
t if our
Prelates
fall,
The way, they seek to stand, effect it shall.
The followers of
Arminius
some revile,
As troublers of the Churches of this
I will.
Some think the doubts & questions they have moved
Shall make the
Truth
more known, & more approved.
The
Papist
says, that we afflicted are,
Because their superstitions banished were.
Som
•
Protestants
believe we fare the worse
For fav'ring them; and that they bring a curse
Upon the La
•
d. Some others, do accuse
The
Separatists,
and those men who refuse
Unto this
Churches
orders to conform.
They, on the other side, as much do storm
Against our
Discipline
and
Hierarchy,
As parts of Antichristian-heresy.
And though we all are naught; yet, we do all
Each other censure, persecute, miscall,
And so c
•
ndemne; as if we had no such
Infirmities, as we in others touch.
But, as her virtue may be never the more,
Who first, in scoulding, calls her neighbor whore,
So, he that soon
•
t check
abuses
can,
(At all times) proveth not the holiest man.
Even I, that in whole Volumes, do complain
Against those faults, which in my times do reign;
May be a
Villane,
when all that is done,
If other signs of goodness I have none.
But, why speak I of
Symptoms,
when all see
Thy
Sickness,
to be evident on thee?
Thou hast a fearful trembling at thy heart,
And, a quotidian
Fever
shakes each part.
Thine eyes do see thy flesh doth fall away;
The lovely color of thy cheeks decay.
Thy veins grow empty, which did lately swell;
Those parts are naked, that were clothed well:
Those limbs are weakened, that e're while were strong;
And into groanings thou hast changed thy
Song.
Yea, thou mayest feel (unless that sense be dead)
A pain between thy
Body,
and thy
H
•
ad.
The
Staves of God,
of which we read it spoken
By
Zacharias
▪ are bruized, if not broken.
The Staff of
Bands
(or
Union)
hath some cracks:
And, that of
Beauty
now so little lacks
Of being shiv
•
r'd; tha
•
thou art almost
The scorn of
Christendom
: and hast nigh lost
Thy form
•
r glory. Neither art thou
•
oly
Despised and dishonored, by thy folly;
But in those mischiefs which thy sin
•
procure,
Thy
Prince
a disadvantage doth endure.
His ver
•
ues are repulsed from that height
O
•
honor, whereunto ascend they might,
Wert thou less wicked. He, whom as our eyes
We seemed (as but yesterday) to prize;
He, for whose absence we so much complained,
And wept, and prayed, and vowed, whilst he remain
•
d
Divided from u
•
: and at
•
hose return
We did so many
•
iles
to ashes burn:
Even he, hath not received that content
From us, which he expected, and we meant.
Some spirit of
Dissention
loos
•
d hath been;
Some sparks of
Discord
have been hurled in,
And blown among us; so that he and we
Not so well pleased in each other be
As both desire. And should this flame increase,
God knows how much it would offend our peace.
Thy
Body, England,
representative,
Vnable was prevention to contrive
For such a mischief; neither dare men say
(Although they could) on whom the blame to lay.
Some, do accuse the
Parliament
; some blame
Another Facti
•
n; and, I doubtful am,
Some rashly tax the
King
: but, to provide
A
Judge,
by whom such parties may be tried,
Who knows (I pray?) or what is he that can
Such points as these, without reproving scan?
Nay, where is he, from faction or from fear
So free, that (though he knew it needful were)
He da
•
es pre
•
ume in any public wise,
So much as mention such
State-mysteries?
Yet, sure,
•
hey must be mentioned; and they may,
By those who know good
Reason,
and the
Way
Of so unfolding them, that no offense
Be given; whatsoever be taken
•
hence.
And therefore, though such men who cannot see
What calling at this present warrants me,
Or, by what
spirit
I am urged to
Those actions which I undertake to do;
Though such conjecture may, that I presume
Too far, and on myself too much assume,
(Beyond my place) yet, in
•
y self secure,
I will put myself their censure to endure;
And all that peril, which the
•
e coward times
Suppose may follow my truth-speaking
Rime
•
.
Direct thou so, oh God! my hand by thine,
That I in this may draw an even Line.
For, no advice from carnal wits I crave:
Nor any Counselor, but thee, to have.
My
Prince
and
Country
▪ though perhaps I be
Not much to them; a
•
e both most dear to me.
And may I perish, if to save my life
I woul
•
betwixt that couple nourish strife.
Or if for one of them I that would say,
Which might from toth
•
rs due take ought away.
If God direct me not, I may do ill
In this performance; but, I know, to will
And to desire their welfare, is from heaven
(Even by his grace) to me already given.
I may perchance in what I best intend,
Have neither
King
nor
People
to my friend;
Yet will I speak my mind to profit them,
Though both should, for my labor me condemn.
For, from all other ends and hopes I am free,
S
••
e those, which in an honest man should be.
If that which profits e
•
th
•
r I propose,
They both shall gain, and neither party lose.
But, if that harm shall by my words be done▪
I will weigh them so, it shall be mine alone.
My censure I will give in things, which none
Have da
•
'd to pass a public Judgment on.
Come, mark me, you who think I now begin
To tread a path which I shall stumble in:
And, if you see, what justly you may che
•
k;
Trip up my heels, and make me break my neck
•
Although we heed not▪ or else will not see,
Those
Maladies
which daily growing be;
I find (and I do much compassionate
What I behold) a rupture in the
State,
Of this great
Body.
Lamed are the
Feet
;
The
Legs,
that sho
•
ld support her, scarcely meet,
For that gr
•
at structure which upon them stands▪
The
Sine
••
are enfeebled; and, the
Hands
Vnfit for action; deafened are her
Ears,
And what concern
•
her most, she hardly hears.
Her
Eyes
(which are her wa
•
chmen) are become
Halfe blind▪ her
Tongue
is almost waxen dumb:
It cannot speak the truth for her own wealth:
Her
Nose,
that should distinguish, for her health▪
Twixt things that wholesome, and unwholesome were,
Hath lost that faculty: her
Pulses
are
Vncertaine: her
Digestion
is not good;
And, that hath filled her with tainted
Blood:
Her
Judgment,
and her
Common-sense
so fails,
That she▪ her self perceives not what she ayles:
Her
Spleene
is stop
•
; and,
•
hose obstructions make
Bad fumings, which have caused her
Head
to ache.
And He (alas) is bound about the
Crown
With cares, that make him bow his forehead dow
•
e.
Thou art this
Body, England,
and thy
Head
Is our dread
Sovereign.
The distemper bred
Betwixt you two, from one of you doth flow;
And which it is, I purpose here to show.
Be bold to hear me
Readers
; for, in season
I speak; and here's not
fellony,
nor
treason.
In this that follows; to have power or aim
To touch the
Lord's Anointed,
I disclaim.
I have no warrant; neither know I ought,
To reprehend him for, although I mought.
And, they of my upright
••
sse judge amiss,
Who think I flatter, in affirming this.
For, as my
Princes
fault
•
I may not blaze▪
So, I am also bound (as there is cause)
To justify what virtues I do hear
To be in him, or, see in him appear.
The gen'rall faults of others, mine own eyes
Have seen; and that's enough to warrantize
A general reproof: but never, yet,
In him beheld I, what did unbefit
Hi
•
pe
•
son or his place: much have I seen,
That, rather, hath an honor to him been.
And, whatsoever shall mutter'd be of
•
ome,
There reigns not any King in
Christendom,
Of whom there was divulged a better fame;
Or, whom a royal Throne so well became.
And, what is lately done, to blot the story
Of his desert? or to deface his glory?
Or wherewithal can any tongue tradu
•
e
His actions, which admitteth not excuse?
What if his people have expected more
(From hopes, by them conceived heretofore)
Then yet succeeds? what can from thence redound
To prove his
Virtues
or his ways unsound?
Why may not this effect arise from them
That so suspect, much rather then from him?
As God long since unto those
Jews
did say,
(Who judged him unequal in his way)
So say I
England
; is thy
Sov'reigns
path
Vnequall? or isit rather thine which hath
Such indirectnesse? wherefore may not all
Which is amiss, by thine own fault befall?
Why may not
(England)
a diseasednesse
(Occasioned by thy unrighteousness)
Make him unpleasing in his course to thee,
Whom thou hast praised? and whose graces be
The same they were? thou knowest many a one,
In bodily diseases, thus hath done.
Those meats and drinks, that are both sweet & pure,
They can nor truly relish, nor endure.
We seldom see the
Bodies
torment bred
By ought which first ariseth in the
Head
;
But, oftentimes we feel both head and eyes
Diseas'd by fumes which from the
Body
rise.
And though down from the head there may distill
Some humor, otherwhile, which maketh
•
ll
The lower parts; yet, that first vapor'd from
Those crudities and noisome fumes whi
•
h come
From
•
ll digestion; or, from stoppages
Which are in our inferior passages.
'It is thus in nat'rall
Bodies
; an
•
the like
May be observed in
Bodies p
•
litick.
The
head
and
body
both are evil pleased,
When any part of eithe
•
is diseas'd:
But, their distempers, woe
•
se or easier are
Sustained, as their fi
•
st occasions were.
When Lungs or Liver doth defective grow
By ought within it self, it pains not so
The
head,
as when from thence doth also fall
Those
•
hew
••
es and humors, that by tickling shall
Occasion coughs and strainings, to distend
The passages, as if each part would rend.
Nor is the
Stomack
so distempered,
By any hurt or bruise upon the
Head,
(By its own fault received) as when it ache
•
h,
Through fumings, which from parts below it taketh.
So fares it with a
People
and their
King.
Even all their e
•
rors, griefs and cares do bring
Upon each other so, that what the one
Misdoeth in, doth b
•
ing some smart upon
The other party▪ But, they shall not be
Afflicted with it, both in one degree.
For, if the
Princes
oversight or sin,
Of any public
Plague
first cause hath been,
The greatest mischief will at last be his.
And, if the
Subjects
have so done amiss,
That
Vengeance
follows it, the
King
may g
•
ieve;
But, they shall be consumed, I believe:
And, that for each ones personal defect
The greatest harm will on himself reflect:
What then to be performed is remaining,
But, that we leave repining, and complaining
On one another, and our labors bend,
Our selves, as much as may be, to amend?
Let everyone examine well his way,
And, for himself, and for all others pray.
For, this is far more likely to redress
The present mischiefs, then o
•
r frowardness.
The party that hath innocence, shall
Be sure to stand, though all about him fall.
And, if we all perve
•
sly wicked prove,
We sh
•
ll have all, one judgment from above.
If in thy
King
(oh
Britain)
ought amiss
Appears to be; 'twixt God and him it is.
Of him he shall be judged. What to thee
Pertaineth it, his censurer to be?
If thou shalt suffer with him; thy offense
Deserv'd it; and naught else
•
ut penitence
Becomes thy practice; neither shall there ought
That's wrong, by other means, to right be brought.
Thy general voice, but newly, did confess
In him much virtue, and much hopefulnesse;
And, he so late assumed his
Diadem,
That there hath scarce been time enough for him
Those evils to perform, that may in
•
err
A general mischief. Neither, do I hear
Of ought, as yet, which thou to him canst lay,
But that he doth to thee thy will den
•
y.
Or with a gentle stoutness claim, and strive,
For what he thinks his just
Prerogative.
And why, I prithee, may not all this flow
From some corruptions which in thee do grow
Without his fault? why may not, for thy crimes
Some instruments of Satan, in these times,
Be suffered to obscure from him a while
The truth of things? and his belief beguile,
With vert'uos shows, discreet and good pretences,
To plague and punish thee for thy offenses?
Why may not God (and justly too) permit
Some
Sycophant,
or cunning hypocrite,
For thy hypocrisies, to steal away
His heart from thee? and goodly colors lay
On
projects
which may cause him to undo thee,
And think that he no wrong hath done unto thee?
Nay, wherefore may not some thy King advise,
To that which seems to wrong thy liberties,
Yet in themselves be honest men, and just,
Who have abused been by those they trust?
Thy wickedness deserves it: and that he
Who in himself is good, should bring to thee
No profit by his goodness, but augment
Thy sorrows, till thy follies thou repent?
For, what is in it self from evil free,
Is evil made, to those that evil be.
Why may it not be possible, that thou
Demandedst what he might not well allow
Without dishonor. Or, if all were right
Which thou requiredst; yet the manner might
Distast him? Or, who certain is, but some
(Pretending public grievances) might come
With private spleen and m
•
lice, to pursue
Those faults in others, which their conscience knew
That they themselves were guilty of; and had
No peace with God by true repentance mnde?
If so it were, I do admire the less
That thy petitions had a
•
ill success.
If any single man hath ought misdone,
It is so little while since he begun
His being to receive; that, in respect
O
•
thine, his errors could small harm effect.
But, t
•
ou hast heaped up sin for many years;
And, thy exceeding guiltiness appears,
With so much evidence, that every man
Of some particular faul
•
s accuse thee can;
And, openly r
•
prove thee, to thy face,
For evils, done in every time, and place.
Then, blame not him, if God hath falsifi'd
Some hopes, of late, or to thy grief, denide
That refo
•
mation, which thou didst require;
And add
•
d (in the stead of thy desire)
New grievances. Nor too too bitterly
Pursue those errors of infirmity,
Which were by others, heretofore commi
••
ed:
But, let all past offenses be remitted.
If thou perceive but hope of reformation,
Go offer up to God, for thy
Oblation,
A true forgiveness of their injuries,
Who heretofore have wronged thy
Liberties.
And, do not this in policy (altho
The times now present may require it so:)
But, so forgive, as by the God of heaven
Thou dost desire thy sins may be forgiven:
For, by thy faults, dishonored more is he,
Then thou by
•
hei
•
s that have offended thee.
And if to them thou t
•
ue compassion showest,
God will not urge, perhaps, the debt thou ow
•
st.
Of
Reformation
thou dost show great zeal;
But, some corruption mayest thou not conceal
That mars the bl
•
ssing? A
••
thou
•
ure thou hast
No just occasion given to distaste
Thy
King?
Do thy
complainings
all, intend
The public welfare, without private end?
And, in preferring them, didst thou commit
No errors; nor no decencies forget?
I will not say thou didst; but I do fear,
That they who wisest are, in some things err▪
Forgive me thou high Court of
Parliament,
If I shall utter what will discontent
Thy disunited members, who have sat
In former times, grave matters to debate.
For, though I will not arrogate the wit
To teach so great a
Counsel
what is fit;
Nor censure any
Act
which thou hast done,
When all thy parts have joined been in one.
Yet, I will take upon me to reprove
Their private errors, who in courses move
Repugnant to thy
Justice
; and oft be
The cause of much dishonor unto thee.
For, none (though thou art wise) can wrong thee ought
To think, that thou hast members may be taught.
And, as in pitched
Battels,
when by-standers
Do apprehend mistakings in
Commanders,
(As oft they do) 'twere better they should say
What they observe, then let them lose the day:
So also (though I may be thought too bold)
'Twere fitter my experience should be told,
Then that a public mischief should ensue,
And I, in times to come, my silence
•
ue.
For, some (no doubt) will well approve the same,
Though other some will think I was to blame:
Yea, that which I will speak shall help, perchance,
(In times to come) thine honor to advance:
For, I will speak no more then what is due,
And, what my Conscience bids my Pen to show.
Thou art an honored
Counsel:
but upon thee
Such blots are cast, and so much wrong is done thee,
(By some, who sca
•
cely nat'rall members be)
That, as this
Kingdom
represents in
thee
Her
Body
; so, thou dost become likewise
A representment of her
Vanities.
Yea, when at first, to
be,
thou dost begin,
Thou art conceived, and made up in sin.
For, to thy
Ho
•
se of Commons,
whither none
Thou shouldst admit, excepting, such a one
Whose life or knowledge that respect may draw,
Which doth become the
Maker of a Law
;
Too oft el
•
cted are, instead of those,
The rich, and them that make the gre
•
test shows
Of youthful gallantry; and, otherwhile,
The very'st humorists of all this
I will.
When choice was of thy
Members
to be made,
Th
•
ir ent
•
ances, but little sign have had
Of prosperous ends: for, they that should have past
A f
•
ee
election,
have their voices cast
By force, constraint, or for some by-respect,
On those, whom others, for their ends elect.
There be in Court, and bord
•
ing round about
Thy
Burroughs,
many wiser men, no doubt,
Then some that in
Elections
have their voice;
And, by their aid, there is sometime a choice
Of good and able men: yet, best it were,
That all men le
•
t to their just freedoms were.
For, they to whom the
Providence
of heaven,
The right of choosing
Burgesses
hath given;
Are also by that
providence
(how wise
Or foolish e're they seem in others eyes)
In making of their choices so directed,
As best may serve to make his
will
e
•
tected.
And, though the same shall just as well be done
By means of them who lawless courses run,
Yet, not for their advantage, to the best,
Who from their proper
motions
such things wrest.
Why did the King from his
Prerogative,
To any place a privilege derive,
But, that they might enjoy them? And, I pray,
What conscienc
•
tyes the People to obey
Those
Laws
or
Acts,
in
Parl'ament
concluded,
By those that have by force or fraud intruded?
What reason is it that a stranger should
Entreat me to commit my best
Freehold,
To be disposed of, by someone, whom he
Shall (for I know not what) commend to me?
What man but he that modes
•
y doth want,
Can be so impudently arrogant,
To sue by f
•
iend
•
, or lett
•
rs, pl
•
ce to take
In such a
Counsel
▪ yea, and
Laws
to make?
As if, because he hath a little pelf,
He there
•
fore might some
Solon
think himself,
Or some
Licurgus?
Or, as if he thought
The
Common-wealth
would surely come to naught,
Unless his knowledge, or his virtues, were
Elected, to be exercised there.
Whereas (God knows) too many do aspire
To such employments, either through desire
To show their wits; to gain some vain repute,
Themselves, or friends to forth
•
in some suit;
To keep off Creditors; or else, perchance,
To entertain their curious igno
•
ance
With mysteries of
State.
Believe it, those
Whose modesty forbids them to expose
Themselves to be elected, I think far
More apt for such employments then they are
That seek them: a
•
d 'tis fittest that in all
Such places, men should sit till they do call
(Of their own will) to whom the choice pertains▪
For, those God sends; and unto them he daignes
Fit graces for the work. The other, hast
(Mov'd by their own ambition) to be placed
In that great
Couns
•
ll,
with a mind corrupt;
Which doth dishonor oft, and interrupt
Their best p
•
oceed
•
ngs. And from hence it is,
So many things among us are amiss.
Hence is it, so much time is spent about
The searching of undue
elections
out.
Hence is it, that instead of persons grave,
Such numbers of our
Burgesses
we have
In those
Assembl
•
es,
who come
•
uffling
•
n
With habits which have far more fitting been
For
Theat
•
rs
; then for the reverent
And sacred presence of a
Parliament.
Thence is it that so many
Children
are
Elected to have place and voices there;
Yea chosen
Counsellers,
when hardly past
Their
Tutors
rod: believe me, this is hast.
Although it might excused be, if some
Youngmen should thither for experience come:
It is not tolerable, nathelesse,
That many should admitted be: much less
Those
no
•
age Youths,
to whom our Laws deny
A power in things that smaller trust imply.
Hence is it that sometime the very noises
Arising from the multitude of
voices,
Foiles
Reason.
This maintaineth also
factions,
And makes in plainest ma
•
ters great distractions.
T
•
is, to those meetings much disturbance bring,
And doth occasion many foolish things.
Thence is it, also, we admit of those,
In making
Laws,
who either do oppose
Proceedings legal; or, protections g
•
ve
To them that in contempt as
Outlawes
live▪
I hold it not amiss, that they who spend
Their time the public bus'nesse
•
o attend,
Should have their servants from arestings free,
Whilst they themselves in those employments be;
Nor is it worthy blame, if they protect
Poor Debtors, who endeavoring to ef
•
ect
Their Creditors contents (as they are able)
And using time (in courses warrantable)
For such a purpose; or else to prefer
Complaints against some vile extortioner:
Or to such ends. But, when they do by dozen
•
(To every
p
•
odigall,
that cheats and cozen
•
)
Vouchsafe
protections
; yea, to those that are
Mere strangers too; it worth reproving were:
And, them who do it, I suppose unfit
In places of
Lawgiver
•
there to sit.
M
•
reover, an
Election
out of order,
Doth other inconvenie
•
t matters further,
Not mentioned yet. The party that is chose
By suit, or ill-got favor, seldom goes
Against his
Chusers,
if it chance that ought
In opposition unto them be brought:
Whereas▪ in such a case, each man is bound
To be as if new risen from the ground
He should not know his father, nor the son
Of his own body: no nor any one
O
•
all his near acquaintance, or his kin;
Nor any that his friend or foe hath been.
But, fixe his eye upon the cause alone,
And, do as that requireth to be done.
Had this been practice'd, many a good conclusion
Had followed more then did. Yea, much confusion,
Much needless cost and pains, had been prevented;
And, many had not gone so di
•
contented
To their own homes, when they with hearts o'regrieved,
Besought the
Parli
•
meant,
to be relieved.
For, if the
•
r causes (which but right had been)
Their trials had received, as they came in;
If no man might, by savor of a friend,
Prefer new suits, b
•
fore all those have end
Which entered are before; poor
Sui
•
ers
might
Have hope of sooner compassing their right.
Yea, spare much cost, and many months attending,
To b
•
ing their endless bus'nesse to an ending.
For then, what day, or week, or month, at least,
They should be heard, it partly might be gu
•
st.
But p
•
ivate friendship shown at such a season,
To work mere private ends, opposeth reason.
It doth put off and on; and so employ
One friend, another's friendship to destroy,
(And, so delayeth him in his just suit,
Who is of such acquaintance destitute)
That, many a one whose cause deserved regard,
Is quite undone, before he can be heard.
Fo
•
, to attend three
Sessions
on a row,
With
Lawyers
often feed, the cause to show,
(Perhaps, a
•
undred miles, or two, from home,
With witnesses which on his charge do come
As far as he) may make a rich man poor,
And, homeward, beg his bread from door to door.
There also were (and they who came unsent,
Are likely to be they that now are meant)
Vnwise, and undiscreet ones, mixed among
Ou
•
Parliaments,
who did those meetings wrong▪
By controverting of Religion there,
And moving questions that improper are
To that
Assembly.
For, there is provided
A
Synod,
whe
•
ein ought to be decided
Such matters; and what they determine shall,
Th
•
Parli
•
meant
may ratify; and call,
And censure those, who either shall proceed
To cross or vilify what is dec
•
eed.
But, we may blush to see, how much amiss
Some stretch the Parliamentall power in this.
How, they do cause the weak offense to take▪
And, say our
Parliaments Religions
make;
How much the due proceedings hindered are,
By spending time in such like mat
•
ers, there,
To that high
Courts
disturbance; and how muc
•
The
Common-wealth
is damnifi'd by such
Impertinent, and over-busy wits,
Who know not what the
Parliament
befits,
And what the
Synod.
But, mistake not me,
I do not think the
Parliament
should be
Restrained so, as not to show her care
That true
Religion
be maintained here.
Far be it from my heart: I wish they should
Religion to their utmost power uphold:
But, my de
•
ire is also, that
••
ey further
The
Church
affairs, in their own place and order:
And that they would be pleased (as hitherto
They g
•
avely were accustomed to do)
To check their busy
Novices,
who breed
Much scandal when unwisely they proceed.
For, though some threaten fearful things to those
Who dare a Parliamentall p
•
w'r enclose
Within a
Bound:
yea, though some talking things
〈◊〉
, as if they might make and unmake
Kings
;
Coine new Religions; yea, and God's, for need;
Yet, I shall never entertain their creed,
Nor fear, when good occasion I have got,
To say what may be done, or what may not.
For, they who make that power or more or less
Then ought to be, do equally transgress.
This, many
Members,
a
•
some former sitting,
Not heeding, or else ove
•
much fo
•
getting,
Have scandalized that Meeting; and made bold
To run a great way fu
•
there then they should
In their discourse (if not when they have sat,
Where they did matters publicly debate.
Yea, 'tis the property of most of those,
Who by their own procurement have been chose
For
Knights
or
Burgesses,
to stand it out
More boldly▪ and more obstinately slout,
For some fond custom, then for what befitteth
His
Justice
who in such a
Counsel
sitteth.
Of these they be, whose indiscretions bring
So many discontentments to the King,
Through want of more exp
•
rience, or sound reason;
Or by t
•
eir urging matters out of season:
And, such as these you easily may know
From wiser men. For, thus themselves they show.
If while a
Session
lasteth you shall chance
To meet them, where themselves they do advance
In some discourse; assure yourselves ye may,
By their perpetu
•
ll ta
•
ling, which are they.
For, they ingr
•
sse the talk, w
•
ere e're th
•
y come,
And speak, as if their lips naught flowed from
But
Apothegmes
; or, as if each cause
They undertook should pass among the
Laws.
And, what another says, th
•
y'll
•
o condemn.
As i
•
a whole
Committee
spake in them.
In my poor judgment it doth much concern
Our
Parliament
•
,
that those their members learn
Mo
•
e silence: for, no sooner come they out▪
But ev'rywhere they p
•
ate, and spread about
The secrets of the
House
; and blast them so
By their rank breathings, e're they ripe can grow▪
That oft they perish, or are shaken from
The tree, before the gathering time is come.
In this, our
Peers
I have not quite excused▪
Nor said, that no ill customs they have used
In this great Meeting: For, the best have some
Blameworthy things (no doubt) if all should come
•
To bide the censure: and, among the rest,
The voice by
P
•
oxi
▪ hold I not the least.
For, unto me, it doth unfit appear,
To give my voice, until the cause I hear.
Who knows the hearts of other men so well
•
▪
Or, of their judgments, who the depth can tell,
So punctually, that (whatsoever shall
Proposed be) he trust them should in all?
Our own affairs (though wisdom saith nay)
To other men we absolutely m
•
y
Refer to be determined on: but, that
Which doth concern the gen
•
rall estate▪
It were injustice, and a thing unfit,
To others, at adventure, to
•
omit.
For, most
Self-lovers
are; and we do know▪
That many p
•
blike inju
•
ies may flow
From this one root; I will not say they do,
Although I think I might affirm that too.
Thi
•
Custom
seemeth ancient: and (if tol
•
The truth may be) as evil as ti
•
old:
And▪ from what cause soe're it first did flow,
It wa
•
n
•
t fr
•
m the firs
•
beginning so
Nor, should old
presidents
(grown out of season)
Be followed, for their age, by m
•
n of reason:
Nor will this custom last, p
•
rchance, when they
Who may remove it, well the same shall weigh
•
.
For, I perce
•
ve it usefu
•
l to no end,
But indirect proceedings to bef
•
iend.
And, they whose courses are m
•
st indirect,
Are they that will such
•
ustomes
most prot
•
ct.
If this▪ and other errors yet unnamed,
Had well been heeded: some had more been blamed,
Some less: some highly praised, who have seemed
Vnactive
Mem
••
rs,
and been disest
•
emed.
Yea, thou hadst
••
lt most grievances amended
•
're this; and many troubles had been ended.
But now (what faults soe're concurring be
In others) those defects that were in thee
Oh!
England,
were sufficient to procure
Those perturbations thou dost yet endure.
Thy ove
•
-soon fo
•
getfulnesse of that
G
•
eat
Pestilence
affli
•
ting thee of late;
Thy thanklesnesse for God's admired ceasing
That strong contagion▪ and the new increasing
Of thy transgressions, since his mercy daigned;
Deserveth mo
•
e then thou hast yet sustained.
Yea, that which thou wert overseen in there,
W
•
ere thy
Assembli
•
s
cong
•
egated were
To
•
ectifi
•
thyself; even th
•
t, alas!
Suffi
•
ient to deserve these t
•
oubles was.
And therefore, w
•
ensoe're thy
Sovereign
shall
Be pleased, for thy help again to call
In such a public Meeting; let, in God,
Thy
Knights
and
•
urgesses
(now spread ab
•
oad)
Collect
•
d be: and, let not any f
•
om
Thy
B
•
rroughes,
by und
•
e election come▪
Let Lord's and Ladies letters, to such ends
Move none▪ but only, witness who are friends
To base corruption. Let their suits be scorned,
And, no respect unto them be retu
•
n'd.
Le
•
everyone of those that shall be sent
To represent thy
Body
; represent
Thy true repentance. Let them lay aside
Prejudicate opinion
•
, faction, pride;
And (to their utmost) in t
•
emselves restrain,
All those enormities which they retain:
That, setting to their own desires, a law,
They may the more enabled be to draw
A
Rule
for others. Let all they that come
To serve the
Public,
leave such thoughts at home
As merely private are: for, in them lu
•
ks
An enmity to all good public works.
Let none propose in such a
Congregation,
What is not first prepared by consulta
•
ion,
For otherwhile, their precious hours are spent
About a needless tr
•
fling argument:
And, oft, from matters of least moment spring
Those disagreeings which great harm
•
o bring.
What their forefathers unto them did leave,
Let them not suffer any to bereave
Their children of. For, they m
•
y that deny
Even to th
•
ir King, provided, loyally
They do it, in
•
esi
•
ting his demands
By legal
Pleading
•
; not by force of hands.
It
•
s as
Naboth's
Vineyard; and, to live
He merits not, who doth repine to give
His life to save it: yea, accu
•
st is be
That would not zealous in those causes be.
Let them, therefore their ancient rights maintain,
By all just means: and let them yield again,
The royal dues. For, those things prosper not,
Which are, amiss,
••
om
God,
or
Caesar
got.
All wrongs shall be revenged: but none brings
Such vengeance, as the wrong to God, and Kings.
If but in word alone (nay, but in thought)
We have against our
Prince
committed ought
Which is disloyal, hid it shall no
•
lie,
But, be revealed by a
winged-spy.
Let▪ therefore, all just freedoms of the Land,
That can be proved,
•
orth in public stand;
And not in old Records (half smothered lie)
In danger to be lost by casualty;
Or else embezel'd; or, by worms and dust
To be devoured: or, by those we trust.
Let us not whisper them, as men that fear
The claiming of their due, high treason w
•
re.
Nor let us (as we do) in co
•
ners prate,
As if the
Sovereign
power, or the
State
Encroacht injuriously; and so defame
The government: disgrace the royal
Name
;
And nourish, by degrees, an evil spirit,
That us of all our peace will dis-inherit.
But, let us, if we see our ancient right
Inf
•
inged; bring our grievances to light,
Speak loyally, and orderly, and plain,
Those things which for our own we can maintain:
So, Kings the truth perceiving; and their ends
Who did abuse their trust, will make amends
•
or all our sufferings: give
•
our foes their doom;
And make us more secure for times to come.
But, bring not, when ye come to plead with Kings,
(Against their claims) some bare conjectu
•
ings:
For, what thou hast no ce
•
taine evidence
To be thy right: the right is in the
Prince.
It is a royalty, to Mona
•
ks due,
But, if for any
Freedom,
ye can show
A
Law
enacted; or, a
Custom
old,
Or
Presidents,
that have not been controlled
(As often as produced) ye may lay
Your clai
•
e; and keep it, every lawful way.
Each
President,
and every
Demand
Which doth from time to time opposed stand,
Concludeth nothing This, let
•
ach man heed,
And with a conscionable awe p
•
oceed
In such affai
•
es Let pure humility,
True piety, true love, and charity,
Be brought along And, when all these
•
e bring,
Then go with l
•
yalty and m
•
et your King,
In his and your affaire
•
without mistrust:
And then (as certainly as God is just)
In every due req
•
est ye shall prevail,
O
•
, gain some g
•
eat advantage, if ye fail.
Desire of God to teach and guide you so,
That in this narrow path you straight may go.
If you would have a King be just to you,
Be ye upright, and to his honor true.
Yield first to him, i
•
every fit demand,
And, long capitulating do not stand,
On what you may determinate with speed.
Because perhaps, delay may danger breed.
Af
•
ord him his requests, unto you
•
pow'rs;
Be his the fault, if he denieth yours;
Or if miscounselled he shall re
•
u
•
re
What shall his weal oppu
•
ne, or your desire.
Go cast yourselves before him with submission;
Present him with petition on petition.
With one accord, and with a fea
•
less face,
Informe him how much hindrance, or disgrace,
Or danger to the Land there may accrue,
If He your loyal counsel shall eschew.
For, God because his laws we disobey,
Vs at our
Sovereigns
feet doth mean to lay,
To humble us a while. If we repent,
To all our loyal suits he will assent.
If otherwise; God will give up this Land,
Our lives and freedoms all into his hand.
Go offer, while to offer you are free;
And what you give him, shall
peace-offerings
be;
If that which for atonement you provide,
With love and penitence be sanctifide.
The world ag
•
inst our State doth now conspire;
Intestine dangers also, do require
That we in concord should united be,
And to supply the Kingdoms wants agree.
Lest while we st
•
ive, and fondly froward grow,
We be surprised by our common foe.
Vnwise is he that in a dangerous place
Doth stay to wash a spot out of his face,
When
Outlawes
he approaching hears, that may
His body wound, or take his head away.
If I should hear a Lyon near me roar,
I'd arm myself, though I with wounds were sore,
And what I had not leisure then to cure,
Would seek to heal, when I of life were sure.
In times of trouble all must look for crosses;
And they must
•
ear, who cannot shift their losses▪
There may be smart by what we s
•
ffer shall;
But, better smart, then not to be at all.
When I do think a blow my head may harm,
I will ward it off although it break mine arm;
For, though my arm be lost, yet I may l
•
ve;
But, on my head, a blow my death may give.
I am not so besotted, as to think,
We ought to give the wanton pall at drink,
Until the head be giddy, (left it may
Bring all the body head
•
ong to decay)
Nor praise I them that are so over-wise,
To spare what shall be need
•
ull to suffice
The gen'rall want (although to needless ends,
Some private h
•
nd, the public wealth dispends)
This, only, is the scope of my petition,
That all be done with love, and with discretion.
For, we must understand, that m
•
ny things
Which are not just in us, are just in Kings;
And, that it is a kind
•
f trait' rousnesse,
To give them more then due, as well as less.
They, who deny the King free power to do
What his Republics weal conduceth to,
Because some
Law
ga
•
nsayes; even those deprive
Their Sovereign of a due prerogative;
Since, for the common good, it just may be,
That some injustice may be done to me,
Or any few. Moreover, men that say
Kings may do more, then of true right they may,
And that no law doth bound them; make a King
And him that is a Tyrant, all one thing.
In my opinion, these men are like those
Who in sweet meats, a poison do enclose
That kills a twelvemonths after. It is as though
We should affirm, that God may evil do
If so he please. It is a needless power
That serves for nothing, but to help devour
The owner. Yea, it is as if we
•
hold
Prepare our f
•
iend all instruments we could,
Wherewith if he should sick, or foolish grow,
He might have means himself to overthrow.
And they who to themselves this power do take,
Do silken halters, and gilt ponyards make
For their own throa
•
s: or,
Nero
-like to kill
Themselves, with poisons, golden viols fill.
For, though a ri
•
hteous King will never stray
From what is just (though none with hold him may)
Because he to himself becomes a
L
•
w
;
Yet, vicious Princes, thence, occas
•
on draw
To perpetrate that
Act
which them d
•
prives,
O
•
kingdoms, lives, and all prerogatives.
And they that were as wise as
Solomon,
Or as upright as
David,
being gone,
May leave a son or grandchild, as did they
Whose willfulness shall cast t
•
n Tribes away.
And, then, their trait
•
rous couns
•
ll curse he will,
Who told him, he had power of doing ill.
For, though such Couns
•
llors may think they do
Their Sov'reigns honor, and much pleasure too,
In over straining their
Prerogatives
;
Yet are they to their
Honor, States
and
Lives,
Egregious tra
•
tors; since a plot they lay,
Whereby thei
•
Princes shall themselves betray
To th
•
ir own follies (if they vicious grow)
Yea, by this means they l
•
nd a pois
•
ned blow
To
King,
and
Realm
; which while the traitors live,
Will ea
•
e to some
Impos
•
ume
seem to give,
Or cure a wart, upon the body bred,
And, fester to the heart when they are dead.
Abhor ye these; and do not favor th
•
se
That would their King mor
•
n
•
rrowly enclose
Th
•
n shall be honora
•
le, or befits
His Majesty that as God's
Viceroy
fits.
When he compelled by necessities,
Requireth of his people due supplies.
They must be had: although some oversight,
Forepast, may make it seem to wrong the right
And freedoms of the
Land
▪ We are not bound
To keep a
Priviled
•
e,
that shall confound
Both us and all our
L
•
berties.
They have
No blame, tha
•
yield up what they cannot save
Without a greater loss: nay, wise is he
That serves on
•
day, to be forever free.
Your
Wisdomes
may, at ease, a course invent
To ple
•
se the
King
yet make no
president
To future tim
•
s, from whence there shall arise
Infringement of our lawful
Liberties
;
Or to our Cause reproach: an
•
, to be taught
You need not,
•
f together you were brought,
According to the freedom of e
•
ection:
For, no man then would need my poor direction.
But, th
•
re shall full be some th
•
t will in
•
rude,
And I for their instruction, am thus rude.
Some cry,
The Land is poor, and cannot give.
It is poor indeed: and yet I do believe
Few Kingdoms are so rich.
•
is poor become,
Respecting that innumerable sum
O
•
our arrear'd
Repen
•
ance,
yet u
•
paid.
It is poor, if all our virtue should be weighed
With what is wanting: or, if we compare
Ou
•
Worthies,
living now, with such as were.
It is poor, if we on those r
•
fl
•
ct our eyes,
On whom the labor of this
K
•
n
•
dome
lies:
Those people, whom our great and wealthy ones
Have racked, oppressed, and eaten to the bones,
To fatten and ado
•
ne their carcasses;
The Land (I must confess) is poor in these.
Nay, if we should consider, what a rate
The richer sort among us liveth at;
How many needless ways they do enlarge
(Without all temperance) their yearly charge:
And how each one his humor to enjoy,
Doth emulate his friend in every toy.
Or, were it heeded well, how out of measure
Some wast their fortunes on a wicked pleasure;
Even (otherwhile) for that which for a bubble
Of
Mirth,
doth bring them half an ages trouble:
Or, were it well observed what beggeries,
What shifts, what baseness, what necessities,
This brings on those that richest men are thought:
What costly suits and troubles it hath brought;
And how indebted and ingag
•
d they stand
To one another quite throughout the Land.
These things, I say, consider
•
d, well we may
Affirme this
Realm
is beggarly: and say
The rich are poor. But, he this
I will
belies
Who taxeth it of other poverties.
Yes, he or blinded is, or maketh l
•
sse
(To God's dishonor) out of willfulness,
His matchless bounty. What one
Kingdom,
yields
Th
•
ough
Europe,
in barns, granards, stalls, and fields,
Of Cattle and of Corn, in every kind,
More plenty, then among us, yet we find?
Where do their Gardens or their Orchards bear,
More fruits, for food or physi
••
then are here?
Our Sheep, fine wools enough afford us do,
To clothe ou
•
selves, and other nations too.
And, by their golden fleeces bring in sums
As la
•
ge, as any that from
India
comes.
Our B
•
es do gathe
•
honey from our flowers;
Our Meads are fruitful by our April showers.
Within the
Land
rich
Minerals
do lie;
Our Air hath
Fowl,
in great variety.
In stately
Palaces,
we do abound;
With many
Towns
▪ our hills and dales are crowned:
In woods, and groves, this Kingdom hath excelled,
(And, some yet stand though most of thē are felled)
Faire
Ports
we have▪ sweet Rivers, and the Sea
•
Surrounding us; and wealth comes in by these.
Our fruitful waters fish enough doth yield
To feed us, though we had nor Grove, nor Field.
Yea did we riot less, and labor more,
Our Fish alone, would feed us all at shore.
If yet, this
Kin
•
dome
needy seem to be,
Go look upon her Cities, and there see
And mark, their costly Piles, their precious wares,
What choice, and store of rarities appears
Within their
Magazines.
Observe their state;
Their clothes, their jewels, furniture and plate;
And tell me, if they do not signify
That there is far more Pride, then poverty.
Gold, silver, pearls and diamonds do glare
And glitter in your eye-sight, everywhere.
Himself disgracit the meanest Cobbler thinks,
Unless his Beer and Wine in Plate he drinks,
And eats in silver. Yea, the poorest ones
Must of that metal have their bowles or spoones:
On everything, almost, pure gold is spilled.
The meanest instruments are hatched, or gilt.
Their
Servants,
in their garments are as gay,
As if that all the week
•
were
Holy day.
Their
Feastings
are abundant, and their pleasure,
Maintained is not, with a little Treasure.
But,
Cities
are the
Treasuries
you will say,
Wherein the Kingdoms riches up we lay
Survey the Country then, and tell me where
The rustic villages replenished are
With such fair booties. Other Kingdoms have
Their Cities, peradventure rich and brave,
But in their scattered Villages, we see
That few or none, save Peasants dwelling be,
Possessing nor good house, nor household stuff,
Nor comely Clothes, nor wholesome food enough.
Our
Farms
are stored with useful implements
Enough to purchase all the tenements,
And Lands in many foreign
Realms,
that are
As large as this our Cou
•
try doth appear.
Of iron, and of brass enough have we
To buy their gold. Our pewter should not be
Exchanged for their fi
•
v
•
r; if all were
Summ'd up, that's found with every Cottager:
Nay, there be many houses in this Land
That in remote obscurity do stand,
Which to the Foe would yield a richer prize
Then many Townships which they might surprise
On other shores: And yet, some do not shame
With poverty, this
Island
to defame.
WAR threatens us; and we of want complain,
Not knowing how our safeties to maintain:
Yet we do nothing want that may conduce
In war or peace, to serve a needful use.
Arms, victuals, men, and money we have store;
Yet, still, we falsely cry that we are poor.
We are so greedy, that we will not spare,
To save the hog, one farthing worth of tarre.
God's blessings we so long time have abused
That now we know not how they should be used.
Or else we think each other so unjust,
That no man knows with whom the means to true
•
t.
Oh! pray to God, to take away the cause
Of these distempers; and to break the
Maze
In which we wander. For, like those we fare,
Who sitting at a banquet, starved are.
If we had peace with God, and could agree,
This Kingdom which so needy seems to be,
Might with her superfluities maintain
Far greater armies, then the King of
Spain,
With all his
Indies.
We might beggar him,
And make all who fear him, to contemn
His winning projects; if we had but eyes
To see and take the course that open lies.
It is his gold increasing his ambition,
Which to the Christian world will bring perdition:
And if prevention longer we delay,
(Or if we do not find a better way
Then yet is trod) the current of his power
Will grow so strong, that it will all devour.
For, w
•
ere a stream runs broad, and swift, to stop
His fury there, I see but little hope.
Materials both for war and peace, must come
To him from divers quarters; for at home
His Country yields him little. But the year
As it renews, with us, reneweth here
Our food and raiment; and though no supplies
Come in, a staple of Commodities
Our
Island
is, which both in war and peace
Will still be in request, and still increase.
Let therefore those who on t
•
e
Continent
Do fear him, use their utmost to prevent
His greatness there; and let our Sea-gi
•
t
I will
(Forbearing on Land forces for a while,
To spend their strength) entirely bend their power,
(As in preceding times) the Seas to scour:
For, with more profit, and a lesser charge,
That shall our lost advantages enla
•
ge,
And, make his
Armies,
which are now so strong,
Draw ba
•
k, decay, and mutiny, e're long.
Were we resolved our course this way to bend,
Of our
main stock
we needed not to sp
•
nd
One moitie. For, half of what is lost,
Within this Kingdom (saved) would quit that cost,
Let all, according to the port they bear,
Forebear but one vain Feast in every year:
Let every household, for the public wealth,
(Which also would advance the bodies health)
Fast but one meal a week, and separate
The price thereof, for service of the State:
Or spare from their full boards of fl
•
sh or fish,
The dressing, or the sauce, but of one dish:
Le
•
us but lay one lace or gard the less
Upon our Clokes; or save the co
••
l
•
nesse
In our ap
•
arell, which we well might spare,
Yet, no defect upon the same appear:
Let us
•
ese
•
ve but half the
•
ithe of those
•
xpences trifled ou
•
in gam
•
s and shows;
Which do not only needl
•
sse charge increase,
But still the kingd
•
me full of idlen
•
sse:
O
•
these, and many other such expenses,
(Which wast our wealth, and multiply offenses)
I
•
we but part would give; perhaps, that cost
Would save our lives, and all, from being lost.
Tobacco
(which the age that went before,
Nor knew, nor needed) doth expend us more
Then would maintain an army: for, few think
How much there is consumed in smoke and stink.
Pride
is so c
•
stly, that if every
Girle
Should give t
•
e worth but of one lace or purle,
Which trims her Cross cloth, it would sails provide
•
or half the ships which now at
Plymouth
ride
H
•
d we but every forfeiture that's due,
••
om those of our notorious drunken crew;
Or,
•
f the value were together got,
Although but of their twentieth needless pot,
I am persuaded it aflote would set
A greater Fleet then we have armed yet.
The very
Oaths
which we may daily hear,
(The men, the women, and the children swear)
If thundered forth together; would roar louder,
•
hen all our Cannons: and, great shot and powder,
Much more then would at
•
ea and land suffice,
Might purchas
•
be, by half the penalties
Which might be justly taken; if we had
R
•
g
•
rd to execute the
L
•
wes
we made.
God grant that of his honor, and of what
Conce
•
nes the gen'rall safety of the State,
We m
•
y mo
•
e zealous grow; and that some course
May stop that mischief, which ye
•
wax
•
th worse.
And th
•
t f
•
om this, or from some better light,
The means of
•
eformation take
•
we might:
Of which I hopeful am, and that e're long,
Our
Commonwealth
shall sing a sweet
•
song.
When such
•
time I see I shall be sure
T
•
es
•
Lines, oh!
England,
will thy love procure;
And, I who for thy weal this pains bestow,
Shall find more favor then
〈◊〉
for now▪
Yea, then shall I t
•
at yet have been desp
•
s'd,
•
ewa
•
led die; o
•
, li
•
e much better prized.
But not till then: No
•
shall I live to v
•
ew
Thy sorrows ended,
•
thou do not
•
ue
Thy sins with speed▪ Oh! the
〈…〉
he
To turn
•
o God,
•
hat he may t
•
rne to thee.
B
•
s
••
ch him,
England,
to unclose thine eyes,
And let thee see in what thy sickness lies.
•
mplore thou him to mollify thy heart,
Thy Children from their f
•
llies to divert,
And, break though
••
chains of ignorance and sin▪
Which at th
•
s present thou lie'st fetterd in.
Endeavor to be friends with God again:
And, he will all thy furious foes restrain
•
.
Thy faulty members, who do now disturb
Thy peace; he either will remove or curb.
Those
G
•
ces
thou perceivedst heretofore
Adorn thy
Sovereign,
shall be hid no more
By those dark fogs which from
•
hy sins do rise,
For, God will take the scales from oft th
•
ne eyes.
On thee, his countenance again
•
hall shine;
That thou mayest la
•
d him in a Song divine:
And, th
•
y who now lament thy
•
ad
•
st
•
te,
In
Hym
•
es
of joy shall praise thy happy
Fate.
The eighth Canto.
Our
Poet
having
•
oucht again
Wh
•
t fr
•
il
•
ies in hims
•
lfe remain,
D
•
cl
•
res, th
•
t many Plagues do steal
As well on
Chu
•
ch,
as
Commonwealth:
Rel
•
tes wh
•
t cro
•
che
•
s do possess
Some, who Religionsn
•
sse profess:
W
•
at n
•
ysome
•
lants, what tares and weeds,
A
•
e sprung,
•
o choke the holy
seeds:
Wh
•
t fai
•
ed zeal, and affectation,
H
•
th fooled this formal
Generation:
And, how from some, great scandal grows,
Who
•
ear the keys, that bind and loose.
Next, he delivereth
Predictions
Of plague, of sorrows and afflictions,
Which on this
••
and
will descend,
Vnl
•
sse our manners we amend.
And, whensoever civil j
•
rs,
Or mischiefs, by the rage of wars,
Oppresse this
Realm
; his
Muse
doth show▪
Who shall occasion it; and how.
Which fearful
Judgment
to prevent,
He calls upon her to repent:
By
•
en apparent signs, hath shown,
God's patience nigh expired is grown:
Then, for the
Public-wea
•
e,
he prays:
Then, for
himself;
and, there he stays.
I Do not woe
•
der, as I e
•
st have don
•
,
That when the Prophet
Jonah
should have gone
To
N
•
niveh,
God's word he disobey'd,
And would himself to
Tha
•
sus
have conveyed:
For, I have now a sense how flesh and blood
The motions of the
Holy Ghost
withstood,
And feel (me thinks) how many a likely doubt
The Devil, and his frailty, found him out
He was a man (though
•
he a
Prophet
were)
In whom no li
•
tle weakness did appear:
And, thus he thought, perchance,
What shall I do?
Astrange at
•
empt my heart is ur
•
ed to:
And, there is somewhat, earnestly incites
That I sho
•
ld hasten to the
Ninevites,
And, preach, that if they alter not their ways,
Their time of standing▪ is but forty days,
My soul persuadeth God enjoins me to it;
And sle
•
pe in peace, I cannot▪ till I do it:
B
•
t common
Reason
strivet
•
to rest
•
aine
Th
•
motion,
and p
•
rswade
•
me tis in vain.
I
•
saith, I am a sin
•
er▪ and so frail,
That, many times, my best endeavors f
•
ile
To rectify my s
•
lfe. How shall I then
Be hopeful of recl
•
iming other men?
To Israel
•
have threa
•
ne
•
many years
God's judgments: yet, no fruit thereof appearess
Although the, hav
•
some knowledge
•
of the Lo
•
d,
And are within his
League,
they sleight
•
is word:
What hope then is there, that a he
•
then Nation
Will prove regardful of my exhortation?
The style of
Prophet,
in this land I carry,
And such a
Calling,
here, is ordinary;
But, in a foreign State, what warranty
Have I, to publ
•
sh such a
Prophesy?
How may th
•
King and People take the same,
If I shall in the open streets d
•
fame
So great a
City
? and, condemn for sin,
A place wherein I never yet have been?
If I shall say, the Lord comm
•
nded me:
Then, they perhaps, will answer:
What is he?
For, they profess him not. Nay, some suspicion
They may conceive, that I to mo
•
e sedition
Am sent among them. Or, if otherwise
They sh
•
ll suppose; how can they but d
•
s
•
ise
My person, and my counsel, who shall from
So f
•
r a place, some
•
ere a stranger come,
That no man know
•
, or what or who I am,
Or from what Countr
•
, or from w
•
om I came?
Such thoughts (belike) delayed▪ and feared him so;
And, so the
Spirit
urged him still to go
For
N
•
niveh
; that nor to go, nor stay,
Could he resolve: but, fled another way.
From which rebellious course, God fetched him back
With such a vengeance, that he did not lack
Sufficient proofs, how Reason did betray him,
And, in his
Calling
▪ causelessly aff ay him.
Yea (mark heavens providence) thou
•
h
Io
•
as
went
Another way, it crossed not God's intent,
But furthred it. For, doubtl
•
sse, e're he came
To
Nineveh,
the miracle and fame
Of his
Deliverance,
was s
•
nt before;
And, made his preaching work on them the more.
Now, though I do nor arrogate, nor dare
My self (except in frailties) to compare
With blessed
Jonah
: yet, I may be bold
To say, o
•
r
Causes
a resemblance hold▪
My heart (and when that moves, as one avers,
It more prevails then many Counsellers)
My heart (I say) persuaded me e're while,
To read a warning Lecture to this
I will.
And in such manner moved; that, to say
It came from God, me thinks, be bold I may.
Yet, my own nat'rall frailty, and the world,
Among my
•
houghts so many doubtings hurld,
That every step had rubs. I lev
•
ll'd some
In my last
Canto.
Yet, I could not come
To even ground, till I had overtopped
Some other Mountains which my passage stopped.
Beware, said
Reason,
how thou u
•
dertake
This hazardous adventure, which to make
Thou hast resolved. For, this wise age denies
That God vouchsafed any
Prop
••
sies
Concerning them; or, that the application
Of ought for
•
told, pertaineth to this Nation.
She saith, my
Constancy
is no true si
•
ne
That God first moved this intent of mine▪
Since Hereti
•
ks, and T
•
aytors oft are seen
As bold in all their causes to have been
As
Martyrs
be. And, that for what they d
•
e▪
They can pretend t
•
e holy
•
p
••
it too.
And she pe
•
s
•
ades, tis likely I shall pass
(At best) for on
•
that much deluded was
She say
•
, more
•
ver, that if these times be
Indee
•
, so wicked, as they seem to me,
I shall instead of movin
•
to repent,
Nought else but stir their fury, and be rent
Perhaps in pieces, by their hasty
••
age.
For, what's more likely in a wicked age?
When people in their sins grow hardened once,
She says I may as well go talk to s
•
ones,
As tell them ought. For, they are in the dark;
And, what they see and hear, they do not ma
•
k.
She urged that the Prophets in old times
Did speak in vain against the people's crimes;
And if in them their words bega
•
no faith,
Much less will such as mine, my
Re
•
son
saith.
She tells me also, that this
I will
hath store
Of
Prophets,
and of
Preachers
never more:
She says that thou
••
〈◊〉
calling none suspect,
Their pains appear to take but small
•
ffect
•
:
And, if suc
•
men authorized as they,
Do cast their words, without success, away;
In vain my
Muse
(whose wa
•
rant most contemn)
Doth seek to work more piety in them.
A t
•
ousand things unto the like effect,
Yea, all and more then any can object,
(Who shall peru
•
e this Book) my Reason brought
Before me, and objected to my thou
•
ht.
And, as a
Pilgrim
(who occasions hath
To take some extraordinary path)
Arivall making a
•
a double way,
Is doubtful whether to proceed or stay:
So fared I; I was nigh tired quite,
Before I could be c
•
rtaine of the right.
Yea, twixt my doubts, and all those replies
Which in my meditations did ari
•
e;
I so amazed grew, I could not know
Which way it best befitted me to go.
But, at the last, God brought me thorough all
My doubts and fears, as through the
Storm
&
Wha
••
,
Once
Jonah
came: That so, all they, who are
Ordained for their good, these Lines to hear,
The more may profit, when they think upon
What straits I passed, e're this work was done:
To that intent my frailties I h
•
ve so
Insisted on, as in this book I do.
Yea, I am hopeful also, they that read
These lines of mine (and mark with how much heed
And Christian awfulness, my heart was won
To censure and reprove as I have done)
Will plainly see, these
Numbers
flow not from
Fantastick rashness; nor from envy come▪
Nor spring from faction; neither we
〈◊〉
By their distracted zeal, who (knowing not
What
Spirit
guides them) often are beguiled
With shows of truth; and madly have rev
•
led
Both good and ill: and whose unsavory
Rimes
Defames men's persons more then che
•
k their crimes.
Dishonor Kings; their sacred names blaspheme;
And having gained some notions in a dream,
Or by report (of what they know not well)
Desire their gid
•
y thoughts abroad to tell:
In hope to merit: as in deed they do,
Sometime the pillory, and g
•
llowes too.
I trust, I say, these lines will seem no such;
Or, if they do, truth is▪ I
•
are not mu
•
h,
Because I certain am what pow'
•
infused
Those matters, whereupon I now have muzed:
And know, that none will these or me condemn,
But they whose rage and follies I contemn.
Yet, that they may be sure I neither care
Who c
•
nsures me, nor what their censures are,
(When honest things I do) here, somewhat more
I will add to what is me
•
tioned before:
And give thee,
Britain,
a more perfect sight
Of thy distempers, and thy sickly plight.
Yea, thou shalt know, I have not seen alone
A bodily
Consumption
ste
•
ling on,
And was
•
ing of thy
Temporalties
▪ but, that
I also have discovere
•
•
f late,
A
Lethar
•
y
upon thy soul to steal:
And that as well the
Church
as
Commonwealth
Doth need a cure. Oh! do not quite neglect
The good of both; but▪ one (at least) respect.
Though
Judah's
sicknesses unheeded be,
(Although thy t
•
mporall wounds afflict not thee)
Yet▪ look on
Zion:
yea, behold and see
Thy Spiritual
•
ies▪ how much empair'd they be.
The
Churches
Pa
•••
money is decayed;
And many a one is in her spoils araid:
Those
Patrons
(as we term them in this age)
Who of her Dowries have the patronage,
Do rob and cheat her, many times of all;
And, their
Donations
basely set to sale.
Those
Canaanites,
whom thou pres
•
rvest here,
(And by thy laws to be expelled were)
Are in thy borders now so multiplied,
That they are thorns and thistles in thy side.
They are become a
Serpent
in thy path,
Which bites unseen; and nigh unhorsed hath
Some able
Riders.
On thy
Places-high
Thy people do commit Idolat
•
y▪
And rear strange
Altars.
In thy Fields are found
Those cunning harmful
Foxes
to abound,
That spoil thy
Vines.
And, some I have espy'd,
Twixt whose oppo
•
ed t
•
les, are f
••
ebrands
•
y'd,
Which waste thy fruits. Thy
Ha
•
v
•
st
se
•
meth fai
•
e;
But secret blasting
•
do so much impai
•
e
And blite the Corn; that when it come
•
to bread,
Thy Childr
•
n oft unwholsomly are fed.
Men use
Religion
as a stalking-horse
To catch preferment; yea, sometime to wor
•
e
And baser uses they employ the same;
Like that bold
Harlot,
who quite,
〈…〉
Did of her
Vowes,
and her
Peace of
••
ngs
make
A sin, lascivious customers to take.
Yea, some (resembling him, from whom was cast
One Devil) when one sin they
•
ave d
•
splacit▪
Of which the world took notice, sw
•
ep a
•
d
•
l
•
nse
Themselves (in show) from a
•
l thei
•
other si
•
s;
Yet secretly, let
Satan
reposs
•
sse,
And foul
•
them with a seve
•
-fold wi
•
kedne
•••
.
An univ
•
rsall dullness will
•
enu
•
Thy senses, if thou do not soon become
More heed
•
ull of thy state, then thou a
•
t yet:
For, ev'
•
y pa
•
t hath
•
elt an ague-fit.
Thy
Academs,
which are the famous places
In which all pious knowledges and graces
Shóuld nourished be▪ and whence thy chief supply
Of
Teachers,
come
•
, (as f
•
om a Nurse
•
y)
Even those fair
•
ountaines
are much tainted grown,
With doctrines hardly found, which thence are blown
Through ev'
•
y quarter. In their
Schools
are heard
Vain
••
ggs and jangling
•
, worthless of regard.
The
•
very
Pulpi
•
s,
and their
Oratories,
Are Stages, whereupon their own vainglo
•
ies
Men often act. Yea, many a vain conceit,
Is brought instead of arguments of weight:
And (which is worse) disorder is so rise
Among them; and the weeds of evil life
Have so o'regrowne those
Gardens,
that (unless
Good government shall speedily redress
That spreading mischief) it will overtop
The plants of
Zion,
and destroy her crop.
To be thy
Shepherds,
Wolves are stolen in▪
And, thou hast those who even by day begin
To sow their Tares among thy purest Se
•
d;
And, with mixed
Graines
thy Lands pollution breed.
For hire and money▪ prophesies the
Prophet
:
The
Priest
do
•
h preach, to make a living of it,
Even merely for a living; and,
•
ut few
Th
•
ir
holy charge,
for co
•
science sake pursue:
W
•
ich I by many signs could make apparent,
But t
•
at it is not yet wi
•
hin my
Warrant.
Loq
•
untur C
•
rae leves
▪ little
Cures
Do
〈…〉
preach, whilst poverty endures.
Ing
•
nt
•
s s
•
upent
; but, large livings make
Our
Doctor
•
dumb: condemn not my mistake:
For, though I do the Lat
•
ne sent
•
nce wrong,
That's true I tell
•
ou in the
Engl
•
sh
•
ongue.
Our N
•
tion, which of l
•
te profaneness
•
e ha
•
ed,
Is in that sin almost
Itali
•
nated.
The
Scriptures
without reverence are used:
The ho
•
y phrase, in jestings▪ is abused:
To flout, or praise, or cu
•
se, we
•
an apply
God's holy word, most irrel
•
giously:
Instead of
Emblem
•
s,
moving thoughts divi
•
e,
The filthy pictures of lewd
Aret
•
ne,
Are found in many Clossets. Foolishlies,
Profane and most lasciviou:
Ele
••
es
Are public made. Yea, those whom heretofore
A heathen
Emperor
did so abhor,
That he▪ for them, their wanton
Author
sent
To undergo perpetual banishm
•
nt:
Even these, we read; and worse then those, by far,
All
•
wed pass, and unreproved are.
Nay, their vain
Authors
often cherished be:
At l
••
st, they have the favor to go free.
But, if a graver
Muse
reprove thei
•
sin,
Lord,
with what hasty zeal they call it in!
How libellous they make it! and how vile,
Thou knowest; and at th
•
ir fol
•
y thou dost smile.
Full war
•
lie, the politick
Divi
•
e,
(Who should allow it) scanneth every Line
Before it pass; each phrase he doth su
•
pect;
Although he findeth nothing to be chekt,
He fears to Licence it And if by chan
•
e
It pass abroad, forthwith doth ignorance
Mistake or mis
•
pply; and false and bade
Constructions are, of good expressions made.
Yea, they who on the
•
ea
•
s of
Iud
•
emen
•
fit,
Are o
•
t, most ready, to miscensure it.
I would they were as fo
•
ward to disgrace
Those
Autho
•
s,
who have filled every place
With fruitless Volumes. For d
•
spersed are
Even qui
•
e throughout this
Island
every year,
Even many thousand
Reames
of scurri
•
e toys,
Songs, Rymes and
•
allads, whose vain use destroys
Or hinders Virtuous knowledge, and D
•
votion.
And this we do to f
••
there the promotion
Of our
Diana.
Yet, behold, if we
To publish some few sheets required be,
Containing pyous
Hymns,
or Christian
Songs,
Or ought which to the praise of God belongs:
We do so fear the hindrance of our gain,
That like th'
Ephesian
Silver-smiths, we fain
A great complaint. As if to have enlarged
A little Book, had grievously over charged
The Common-weal
•
h. Whereas if it were weighed,
How much o
•
late this Land is overlaid
With
••
iviall Volumes:
•
r, how much they do
Corrupt our
Manners,
and
Religion
too,
By that abusive matter they contain;
I should not seem unjust
•
y to complain
•
These times do swarm with
Pamphlets
w
•
ich be far
More dangerou
•
, then mo
•
tall poisons are
Even in thos
•
books, whereby the simple thought
To fi
•
d t
•
u
•
knowledge
•
th
•
y their Bane have caught:
For, thence, strong
Heresies
(there b
•
ing hid
Amid some doub
•
l
•
sse Truths, a while unspid)
Steal out among the people, by degrees;
More mis
•
hi
•
fe working then each
Reader
sees.
And, so, to ruin knowledge▪ that is made
An instrum
•
nt; whereby it rais
•
ng had
For (by their lucre, who the Chu
•
ches peace
D
•
sturb, their p
•
ivate profit to encre
•
se)
Tho
•
e
Doctrines
which are unauthori
•
ed,
Are so promiscuously divulged, and spread,
Among approved
V
•
rities
; that some
Are in those
Lab
•
rinths
amazed become:
And▪ such a Contradiction is in that
Wh
•
ch their confused
Pamphlets
do relate;
That, Common Readers, know not which to leave,
Nor, which the
Church of England
doth receive.
And, f
•
om this mischief many others flow,
Which will, in future tim
•
s, more ha
•
mfull grow.
This, spins vain
Controversies
to their length;
By this, most
Heresies
receive their strength.
And what distraction it already makes,
Our grieved
Mother
woeful n
•
tice take
•
.
Instead of active knowledge, and her fruit▪
This filleth men with itching
•
of
dispute,
And empty words; whereby are set abroach
A thousand quarrels, to the
Truths
reproach.
The
Sectaries,
the
Mun
•
ey
•
s,
and the
Apes,
The
Cubs
and
Foxes,
which do mar o
•
r Grape
•
;
The
Wolves
in sheep-skins, and our frantic rabble
Of
Worship-mongers,
are innumerable.
And, as the
Churches
quiet they molest,
So they each other spitefully infest.
We have some
Papists
: some that half way go:
Some
Semi-puritans
; some▪ w
•
olly
•
o;
Some
Anabap
•
ists
; some, who do refu
•
e
Black puddings; and good porke; like a
•
rant
I
•
wes
:
Some also termed
Arminians
are among
Our
Priests
and
People,
ve
•
y lately sprung.
What most, so called, profess, I stand not for:
And what some say they teach, I do abhor▪
•
ut, what some
•
other, so misnam'd, believe,
Is that whereto best Christians credit give.
For, as we see the most reformed man,
By
Libertines,
is termed
•
Puritan
:
So (by our purblind
Formalists
) all those
Who new fantastic crotchets do oppose,
Begin to be mis-termed
Arminians
now.
And, hence e're long will greater mischieves grow
Then most imagine. For, the foolish fear,
Lest they to be
Arminians
may app
•
are,
Or else be termed
Puritans,
will make
Great multitudes
Religion
quite forsake.
And, I am h
•
lfe persuaded, thi
•
will on
•
Of those great
Schisms
(or ea
••
hquakes) cause which
〈◊〉
Foretold in his
Apocalypse
; and they
Are bl
•
st, who shall not thereby fall away▪
Some
Brownists,
and some
Familists
have we;
And some, that no man can tell what they be;
Nor they themselves. Some, seem so wondrous pur
•
They no men's conversations can endure,
Unless they u
•
e their plaistrings, and appear
In every formal garb which th
•
y sh
•
l
•
w
•
are▪
The
•
e be of those who in their words de
•
y,
And hate t
•
e practice of
Idol
•
try,
Yet make an
Idol
of their form
•
l
•
z
•
ale,
And underneath strict holin
•
ss
•
, c
•
nceale
A mystery of evil, whi
•
h dece
•
ve
•
them,
And, when they think all
•
a
•
e in danger le
•
ves th
•
m▪
Their whole
Religion,
some d
•
e pla
•
e in he
•
i
•
g:
Some, in the ou
•
w
••
d action o
•
fo
•
b
•
aring
Ill deeds; or in
well doing
▪ though the heart
In t
•
at performance bear
•
o
•
eall pa
•
t.
Some oath
•
s, of th
•
i
•
mo
••
ll action, make
Small conscience: and, affirm that God doth take
No notice how in body they transgress,
If him they in th
•
i
•
inward man conf
•
sse:
As i
•
a soul b
•
loved could reside
Wit
•
in a body quite unsanctifi
•
e.
Some, not contented in t
•
e
•
ct of sin,
Are grown
•
o impudent, that they begin
To justify th
•
ms
•
l
•
es in wickedn
•
sse;
Or, by quaint
•
rguments, to make it less:
And, by such Monsters, to such ends as this,
The
Christian-liberty
defamed is.
N
•
w fanglednesse,
Religion
hath o'rethrowne;
And, many as fantastica
•
l are grown
In that as in
•
pparell. Some, deligh
•
In nothing more then to be opposite
To other men: Their zeal they wholly spend
The present Government to reprehend;
The Churches discipline to v
•
lifie;
And rail, at all, which pleads Antiquity.
They love not peace: and therefore have suspicion
Of Truth it self, if out of persecution:
And are so thankleffe, or so heedless be
Of God's great love, in giving such a free
And plenteous means of publishing his word,
That, what his Prophets of the
Jews
record,
Some verefie in us. Much praise is given
To that b
•
inde age, wherein the
Queen of heaven
Was worshipped here. And, f
•
lsly, we
•
xtoll
Those Days, as being much more plenti
•
ull.
Some, at the frequency of
Preach
•
ng
gru
•
ch,
And, tired with it, think we have too much:
Nay, impudently practice to suppr
•
sse
That Exercise, and make our plenty less.
And, that their d
•
ings may not want some
•
air
Or goodly color, they do call for Prayer,
Instead thereof; as if we could not pray,
Until our
Preaching
we had sent away.
As these are foolishly, or lewdly, wise▪
We have some oath
•
s wantonly precise.
So way wardly disposed, amidst our plenty,
And through their curiosity, so dainty;
That, very many cannot w
•
ll dig
•
st
The Bread of life, but in their m
•
nner dressed.
Now will God's
Manna,
or that measure serve
Which he provides; But, they cry out they starve,
Unless they feed upon their own opinions,
(Which are like
Egypt's
Ga
•
lick and her Oynions)
Some like not Prayer that's ext
•
mporary▪
S
•
me love not any t
•
a
•
s
•
t fo
•
me
〈◊〉
•
ary.
Some think there's no devotion, but in those
That howl, or whine, or snuffle in the no
•
e;
As I that God vouchsafed all his Graces
For
••
ined gestures, or for sour faces.
Some think not that the man, who gravely teacheth,
Or hath a sober gesture when he preacheth,
Or gentle voice: hath any zeal in him,
And the
•
efore, such like
Preachers
they contemn.
Yea, th
•
y suppose that no man's doctrine saves
The soul of any one, unless he raves,
And roars aloud, and flings, and hurleth so
As if his arms he quite away would throw;
Or over-leap the
Pulpit
; or else break it:
And this (if their opinion true may make it)
Is to advance their voices
Trumpet-like
▪
A
•
God commands: yea, this (they say) doth strike
Sin dead. Whereas, indeed, God seldom goes
In whi
•
lwinds: but is in the voice of those
Who speak in meekness. And it is not in
The power of
•
oyse to shake the walls of sin:
For clamors,
•
ntique actions, writhed look
•
▪
And such like mi
••
micke Rhetoric none brook
•
That hath discretion: neither doth it move
The heart of any, when we so reprove;
Ex
•
ept it be in some contrary motion,
Which interrupts the hearers good devotion.
The well aff
•
ct
•
d Christian pit
•
ies it;
It makes profanest men
〈◊〉
naught to set
God
•
O
•
dinance. Mee
•
e mor
•
ll men despise
Such affectation: much it ter
••
ies
The ignorant: but very few srom thence
Rece
•
ve sound knowledge, or
•
ive penitence.
Some relish nothi
•
g, but those points th
••
are
In controversy: some would nothing hear
But songs of Mercy; some, del
••
h
•
i
•
none
But
Sons of Th
•
nder
; and sc
•
rc
•
any one
Is pleased in what he hears. Nay, of th
•
i
•
Preachers,
M
•
cha
•••
k arroga
•
e to be their teachers.
Yea most of us, what
〈◊〉
our
Pastor
says,
Keep sti
•
l
•
ur own opinions and our ways.
To hear and know God's word, to some among
Our Nation, seemeth only to belong
To
Clergymen
; and, their implicit
Faith
Is built on what the common rumour saith.
Some others filled w
•
th curiosity
Affirme that every sev'rall mystery
Within God's
Book
included, doth concern
Even each particular Christian man to learn:
Whereas they might as well affirm, each guest
That is invited to a public Feast,
Is bound the sev'rall dishes there to heed,
And upon every meat b
•
fore him feed.
Nay, some have almost this imagination,
That there is hardly hope of their salvation▪
Who speak not
Hebrew.
And, this nowadays,
Makes foolish women, and young Prentises
To learn
•
that holy Tongue▪ in which they grow
As cunning as do those who nothing know,
Save to be arrogant, and to cont
•
mne
Those
Pastors,
who have taken charge of them.
The appetite of some grows dull, and
•
ails,
Unless it m
•
y be pampered with Quails;
High flying crotchets, which we see d
•
fill
Not half so m
•
ny soul
•
s as they do kill
We cannot be content to make our flights,
For that which God exposeth to our sights,
And search for that which he is pleased to show,
But, we must also p
•
y, what God doth know.
W
•
i
•
h
•
as inde
•
d an a
•
c
•
ent fallacy
O
•
Satan's
; and the v
••
y same whereby
He cheated
Eve.
From seeking to disclose
Beyond our warrant, what God only knows,
Proceedeth many erro
•
s. Thence doth come
Most questi
•
ns that have troubl
•
d
Christendom.
Yea, searching things concealed, hath overthrown
The comfo
•
table use o
•
what is known.
Hence flow
•
s their fruitless fond asseveration,
Who blundred on
Eternal Reprobation,
And many groundless whimsies have invented,
Whereby much better muzings are prevented.
Of
Reprobation
I no doubt have made;
Yet, those vain quarrellings which we have had,
Concerning her, and her antiquity,
(But that the world hath wise
•
fools then I)
Appears to me to bring so little fruits,
That I suppose i
•
fitter for disputes
In hell (amo
•
g the reprobated
•
rue)
Then for a Church of
Christia
•
s
to pursue:
At least to brawl about wi
••
••
ch hot rage,
As hath poss
•••
so
•
e
•
p
•
rits of this age.
For, some have u
•
g
•
d this p
••
nt of
•
e
••
obation,
As if the chi
••
e
••
ground-w
••
k of salvation
Depended on
•••
e
•
ving, just, as they
(Deluded by their fancies) please to say.
And, though they n
•
ver found God
•
holy woe
•
d
Did any mention of the same affo
•
d,
But, as of that which did begin since
Time
;
And with respect to s
•
me committed crime:
They, nathelesse, their strengths together gather,
To prove the
Child
is older then the
Fat
•
er.
And, since that f
•
tall thr
•
d, there, finds her spinning,
But from of
Old
; at fa
•
thest from
B
•
ginning
:
They
Reprobation,
otherwhile confound
With our
Predestination
: which is found
No where in all the Scripture▪ to
•
e
•
pect
The
Reprob
•
tes,
but
•
nely God's Elect.
And then they are compelled to p
•
ove the sense
Of their dar
•
e
Tenet,
by an inference;
And to affirm (
•
rom
•
eason) that
Election
Eternal, doth infer the like
•
ejection.
(As if an action of
Eternity,
Were fit to square out shallow reasons, by)
Which A
•
gument because it hath not take
•
n
True Faith, to ground on, may with ease be shaken▪
Their tottering structure, there
•
ore, up to keep,
They into God's fore know
•
edge boldly peep,
Beyond his warrant; searching for
Decrees
And
secrets,
farther then an
Angel
sees:
Presuming then,
•
s if all things they knew,
And had
Eternity
within their view.
But, that hath such an infinite extension,
Beyond their narr
•
w-bounded comprehension,
That, th
••
e they wa
••
er on,
•
ill they are mad:
And
〈…〉
lit
•
le knowledge w
•
ich they had:
Fo
•
•
spa
•
they but m
••
men who maintain
The g
••
di
•
-
•••
cies of their own weak brain,
For
Theses
of
Religion,
which we must
Believe as they affi
•
me t
•
em, or be thrust
Among the
Repr
•
bates?
What less, I pray,
Are they then m
•
d
•
, who fool
•
•
heir wits away
In wheeling Arguments which have no end?
In
•
trains which man shall never apprehend?
In seeking what their knowledge do
••
exceed?
In vain disputings, which contentions breed.
In strange
Chymera's,
and fantastic notions,
That neither stir us up to good devotions,
Nor mend our manners? But our
w
•
yes
pervert,
Distract the
Judgment,
or puff up
•
he heart.
If this I may not
•
adnes call, or folly,
It is (all the best) religious-melancholy.
What shall we judge of those who strive to make
God's word (who
•
e
Termes
and
Scope
they much mistake
Their proofs for that wh
•
reof no proofs they are,
And sleight these
Truths,
for which the text is clear▪
What shall we deem of these, who quite mistaking
Good Authors, (and their Volumes guilty making
Of what th
•
y never meant) do preach and write
Against those Books, with rancorous despite,
Which being well examined, say the same
Which they affirm, and check what they do blame.
Such men there be, and they great noise have made
By fighting furiously with their own shade.
What may b
•
thought of them, who likely, ever,
In their perverse opinions to persevere,
Take knowledge up on trust: and follow those
Who lead them on, as wild-ge
••
e fly in
•
owes?
And when their multitude is waxen great,
Do then so willfully prejudicate,
Become so confid
•
nt of that they hold,
And in their blind assurance, so are bold,
That they can brook no trial
•
, neither see
Their oversights, how plain so ere they be?
But fondly think (though we believe it not)
That they infall
••
ilitie h
•
ve got?
Some pious men; yea, some great Doctor
•
tread,
Such
Loabrinths
; and often are misled
By holding that which t
•
ey at fi
•
st were taught,
Without due proving all things as they
•
ught:
And vulgar men are often led awry,
By their examples and for company.
For, as a Trav
•
ller, that i
•
to come
From some far Count
•
y, through large deserts, h
•
me▪
(Not knowing well the way) is glad to take
His course with such who shows of cunning make,
And walks along, d
•
pending s
•
ill on them,
Through many a wood, an
•
over many a stream,
T
•
ll he and they are loft: there to remain
He finds no safety, nor means back again,
Nor list to leave his company; because
He hopes that nearer homeward still he draws,
And that his guides full sure of passage are,
Although they cannot well describe it, there.
So, when plain men do first attempt the way
Of knowledge, by their guides, they walk as
•
ray,
Without distrust; and when ariv'd they be
Where many troublesome windin
•
's, they do see,
And where no certainty they can b
•
h
•
ld,
Yet, on their leaders knowledge they are bold,
O
•
on their multitude▪ yea, though they know,
And, see them err, and
•
u
•
ne, and stagger so,
(In da
•
ksome paths) that well suppose they may,
They rove and wander in an unc
•
uth way;
Yet, still they are unwilling to suspect
The wild me of the
Fathers
of their Sect.
Yea, though no satisfaction t
•
ey can find,
Though fear, and doubtings
•
o affl
•
ct their mind,
They still impute it rat
•
er to their own
Infirmities, or to the depths unknown
Of those mysterious points, to mention brought;
But never call in question what is taught:
Lest being by those Teachers terrifide,
They might forsaken in d
••
p
•
i
•
e abide.
Their
Doctors,
also, fail
•
ng to d
•
vise
Strong Arguments, their h
•
arers to suffice;
This course, to salve their credits, la
•
e have
•
ot;
They say (forsooth)
Faiths
doctrine
•
eules not
With natural capac
••
ies; and that
The
Spirit
must those men illuminate
Who shall receive them▪ And, indeed in this,
They do both say the truth, and say amiss:
This is a lesuitish juggling trick,
And, if allowed it be, each lunatic,
And every brain-sick
Dreamer,
by that way,
May foist upon us all that he can say.
For, though God's holy
Spirit
must create
New hearts within us, and regenerate
Depraved nature, e're it can be able
To make our outward hearings profitable;
We must not think that all which fancy saith
(In terms obscure) are mysteries of Faith.
Nor make the hearers want of power to reach
Their meanings, to be proofs of what they teach.
There is twixt
•
en, & that which they are taught,
Som
•
natural proportion▪ or tis naught▪
The deepest mystery
•
f our profession,
Is capable of literal expression,
As well to
R
•
probates,
as men
elected
;
Or else it may of error be suspected
Yea wicked men a power granted have
To understand, although they miscon
•
eive.
And can of d
••
kest points make plain relations,
Though to themselves they fail in applications.
God never yet did bid us take in hand
To publish that which none can understand:
Much less affecte
•
h he a man should mutten
Rude sounds of that▪ whose depth he cannot utter;
Or in uncertain terms as many do,
Who preach Non sense, and oft
nonentia
too.
For those whi
•
h man to man is bound to show,
Are such plain Truths, as we by word may know;
Which when the hearer can express again,
The fruit hath equalled the Teachers pain.
Then, though the soul doth many
•
imes conceive
(By Faith, and by that Word which we receive)
Deep mysteries, and that which far transcends
A carnal knowledge: though she a
•
prehends
Some glimmerings of those
Objects,
that a
•
e higher
Then human Reason ever shall a
•
pire;
Though she hath tastings of th
•
t bless
•
n
•
s,
Which mortal tongue could never yet express;
And though the soul may have some earn
•
st g
•
ven
On earth, of what it shall enjoy in heaven;
Though God may when he list (and now and then
For cause not ordinary) to some men
Vouchsafeth (for their secret satisfactions)
A few reflections fr
•
m eternal
•
actions:
T
•
ough this be so, let no man arrog
•
te
That he such sec
•
ets can by word relate.
For, they are things▪ of which no voice can preach;
High flights, to whi
•
h no mortal wing can reach;
It is God's own work, such raptures to convey,
To compass
•
h
•
m there is no other w
•
y,
But by his blessed
Spirit.
And, of though
•
e
Most can we not; some must we not disclose
For, if they only touch out pri
•
ate state,
They were not sent, that we should them relate▪
But d
•
igned that the soul they stren
•
then might
Amid the perils of some secret fight;
When men to honor God, or fo
•
their sin,
The terrors of this life are glun
•
ed in.
And, as it i
•
reputed of those things.
Which foolish people think some
Fairy
b
•
ings.
So, of
Euthusiasmes
speak I may;
Discover them, and straight
•
hey fly away.
For▪ thus they fare who boast of
Revelations,
Or of the certainty of their
Salvations,
Or any ghostly gift, at times or places,
Which warrant not the mention of such graces:
Yea, by revealing things which they should hide,
They entrance make for over-weening p
•
ide,
And that quite mars the blessing they possessed,
Or, for a while, obscureth it, at best:
And yet, if any man shall climb so high,
That they attain unto a
Mystery,
Co
•
ceiv'd by few; they may, if they be able,
Dis
•
lose it where it may b
•
profitable,
But, they must know, that (if it be, indeed,
Of such transcendency, as doth exceed
Mee
•
e natural reaches) it should be declared
To none, save unto those who are prepared
For such conceptions; and more apt to know them
By their own thoughts, then are our words to show them.
Else, all they utter will in clouds appear,
And, errors men for truths, away will bear.
Would this ha
•
been observed a little more,
By some who in our
Congregations
roar
Of God's unknown
Decrees, Eternal-Callings,
Of
Perseverance,
and of
Final, Fallings,
And such like
Mysteries
▪ Or else, I would
That they their meanings better utter could,
(If well they meant.) For, though those points afford
Much comfort and instruction (as God's word
Hath mentioned them) and may applied be,
And opened, when we just occasion see;
Yet, as most handle them, who nowadays
Do pass for Preachers, with a vulgar praise▪
They profit not: for, this ripe age hath young
And forward wits, who by their fluent tongue,
And able memories, a way have found
To build a house, e're they have laid the ground.
With common places, and with notes purloin'd,
(Not well applied, and as ill conjoin'd)
A garb of preaching these have soon attained,
Which hath, with many, approbation gained
Beyond their merit. For, they take in hand
Those mysteries, they neither understand,
Nor studied on. And, they have much distracted
Some hearers, by their doctrines ill compacted:
Yea, by enquiring out what God
fore-sees,
And meddling much with his unknown Decree
•
,
The
Churches
peace so much disturbed have they;
So foul and crooked made
Faiths
plainest way;
Such scandals raised; and interrupted so.
By doubts impertinent, what men should do;
And, their endeavors nullifide, so far,
That many of them at a nonplus are.
I am not of their minds, who take from this
And other things, that are performed amiss,
O
•
casion to disparage frequent preaching;
Or, to abate our plentiousnesse of teaching:
For, of our
Harvest,
Lord, I humbly pray,
The store of
Laborers
continue may.
And, I could also wish, that none were chose
To be a seed man, till he truly knows
The Wheat from Tares; and is indu'd with reason,
And grace, to sow in order, and in season.
And that those a
•
tlesse workmen may be staid,
W
•
o build before foundations they have laid
•
▪
Lest, when our
Church
well built, suppose we shall,
It sink, and overwhelm us in the fall.
It pities me to mark what rents appear
Within our
Zion
; and what daubings are
To hide the ruins; and I fear the frame
Will totter, if we long neglect the same.
Our
Watchme
•
,
for the greater pa
•
t, are grown
Less mindful of God's honor, t
•
en their own:
For either almost wholly we omit
That work, or undiscreetly follow it.
Some, speak the truth, without sincere intention,
As they who preach the
Gospel
for contention.
Some, by their wicked lives do give offense,
And harden men in their impenitence.
As if nor hell nor heaven they did believe,
They riot, game, drink drunk, and whore, and theeve.
For avarice, and envy, none are worse;
They are malicious, and blaspheme, and curse,
As much as any others. None are more
Regardlesse of the soul that's mean and poor;
Among their neighbors, none more quarrelsome,
Or, that more hardly reconciled become,
Then many
Clergy-men.
And as we see
They are the best of mon, when good they be;
So, there are none that wander more astray,
When they have left a sanctified way.
Some Pastors are too hot; and some too cold;
And, very few the golden temper hold.
Some, at the
Papist
with such madness fling,
As if they could not utter anything
Of them too vile; though never so false it were:
And, we so used by their
Jesuits
are.
Some others at the
Puritan
do strike,
So furiously, that they are often like
To wrong the
Protestants
: for, men impose
That name, sometime, upon the best of those.
Yea, they who are profane, that name mis-lay
On all who make a conscience of their way.
Some
Shepherds,
on their Flocks are go
•
g'd at full,
And sumptuously arrayed in their wool.
But, those that are diseas'd, they make not strong;
Their sickliest sheep they seldom come among;
They take no care, the broken up to bind,
The Sheep that's lost, they do not seek to find;
They let such wander as will run ast
•
ay;
And, many times their fury so doth f
•
ay
The tender conscience; that their in
•
iscretion
Doth fright their hearers headlong to perdition.
God's bounty hath large pastorage provided;
But, they have not his flocks with wisdom guided:
For, in the midst of plenty, some be ready
To starve in ignorance. Some sheep are headdy;
Some get the staggers; some the scab; and they
Infect their fellows. Some, the wantons play
Among the thorns and briars, which have torn
The marks and fleeces, which they should have worn.
Some straggle from the flock; and they are straight
Surpriz'd by Wolves, which lie for them in wait.
Some, sought large feeding, and ran
•
k pastures got,
Which proved not wholesome; & they caught the Ro
•
.
For, many preach themselves, and fancies broach,
That scandal preaching, to the Truths reproach.
Yea, some term that (forsooth) God's word divine,
Which would half shame me, should they term it mine.
And they we see, that longest pray and speak
Are prized of most (though head nor foot they make)
Because the common hearers of this land,
Think best of that, which least they understand.
Some, also, by their feet disturb the Spring
•
;
Or trample and defile God's pasturings;
And they are either such who make obscure
Faiths
p
•
inciples; or, such who
•
e lives impure
Profane their Doctrines. Other some have we,
Who (like the beasts that over gamesome be)
Do push their
•
eaker brethren with their horns▪
And hunt them from the flock, by wrongs, or scorn.
God's
horses,
also, much neglected are;
And of his
Sanctuaries,
few have care.
A barn, or any common house, or room,
Is thought as well God's worship to become,
As in the
Churches
infancy; or there,
Where wants, and wars, and persecutions are.
Amidst our peace and plenties, we do grutch
Our
Oratories
should be trimmed as much
As are our vulgar dwellings; and repine
That exercises which are most divine,
Should with more
Rites,
or
Ornaments,
be done,
Then when the troublous times afforded none.
As if a
Garden,
when the flow'rs are blown,
Were still to look as when it first was sown.
To worship so in spirit, we pretend
That, in our body
•
, we do scarcely bend
A leg, or move a cap, when there we be,
Where God's most holy
Mysteries
we see.
Yea, many seem so caref
•
ll to have been,
To let no
Superstition
enter in,
That they have, almost, wholly banished hence,
All
Decency,
and pious
Reverence.
The
Church,
by
Lukewarme-Christians,
is neglected
By brutish
Athe'sts
it is disrespected;
By greedy
Worldlings,
robbed of her fleeces;
By self-willed
Schismatics,
nigh torn in pieces;
By
Tyrants,
and by
Infidels
opposed;
By her
blind Guides,
to hazard oft exposed;
By
Hypocrites,
injuriously desamed;
And, by the fr
•
ilties of the best, oft shamed.
A power ecclesiastical is granted
To them, full often, who those minds have wanted
Becomming such Authority: and they
Play fast and loose, even with the
Churches
Key.
They censure and absolve, as best shall make
For their advantage; not for consc
•
ence sake.
As they shall please, they punish or connive;
And, by the people's follies they do thrive.
Of evil customs, many are we see
Insinuated, and so strict are we
To keep them, that we sottishly deny
To leave them, for what more would edify:
And we so much do
Innovations
fear,
That needful
Reformations
no
•
e appear.
We have prophan
•
d every holy thing;
Even out most Christian
••
asts,
which are to bring
God
•
Mercies
to our thou
••
t; and memorize
Of
Saving-Grace,
the sacred
Mysteri
•
s:
Some have ev
•
n those gain-said; and, in that
Have evil spoken, of they know not what.
Some others keep them; but, as heathnishly,
As
Feasts
of
Bacchus
; and impiety
Is then so rife, that God is rarely named
Or thought upon, except to be blasphemed.
By these, and other ways, the
•
hurch
doth lose
Much honor, to the glory of her so
•
s,
And our great sham
•
and loss: for, her decays
Shall be this
Realms
disprofit, and dispraise.
God hath a controversy with our
La
•
d
;
And, in an evil plight affairs do stand.
Already we do smart for doing ill;
Yet, us the hand of God afflicteth still,
And many see not; as many be
So willful, that his hand they will not see.
Some, plainly view the same, but nothing care:
Some, at the sight thereof amazed are
Like
Balthazar
; and have a trembling heart,
Yet, will not from their vanities depart.
About such matters, other some are loath
Their thoughts to busy (merely out of sloth)
Like him, who rather would in hazard put
His life, then rise from bed the door to shut.
Some, dream that all things do by chance succeed,
And that I prate more of them then I need.
Bu
•
, Heav
••
and Earth, to witness I invoke,
That, causelessly, I nothing here have spoke.
If this, oh sickly
Island,
thou believe,
And for thy great infirmity shalt grieve,
And, grieving of thy follies make confessions;
And so confess thine infinite transgressions,
That thou amend those errors: God shall then
Thy manifold distempers cure agen;
Make all thy scarlet sins as white as snow,
And cast his threatened judgment on thy foe.
But, if thou (fondly thinking thou a
•
t well)
Shalt sleight this
Message,
which my
Muse
doth tell,
And scorn her counsel; If thou shalt not rue
Thy former ways; but, frowa
•
dly pursue
Thy willful course: then, hark what I am bold,
(In spite of all thy madness) to unfold.
For, I will tell thy
Fortune
; which, when they
That are unborne, shall read, another day;
They will believe God's mercy did in
••
se
Thy
Poets
breast with a prophetic
Muse.
And know, that he this
Author
did prefer,
To be from him, this
Isles
REMEMBRANC
•
R.
If thou, I say, oh
Britain!
shalt retain
Thy crying sins, thou dost presume in vain,
Of God's protection. If thou stop thine ear,
Or burn this
Rowle,
in which recorded are
Thy just
Indictments
; it shall written be
With new additions, deeply stamped on thee
With such
Characters,
that no time shall race
Their fatal image, from thy scarred face.
Though haughtily thou dost thyself dispos
•
,
Becau
•
e the Sea thy borders doth enclose.
Although upon the Rocks thy nest is placed;
Though thou among the Stars thy dwelling hast;
Though thou increase thy ships; and unto that
Which is thine own, with King
Jehoshaphat,
Join
Ahab's
forces. Though thou watch and ward,
And all thy Ports and Havens strongly guard;
Although thou multiply thy inland forces,
And muster up large troops of men and horses▪
Though like an
Eagle,
thou thy wings display'st,
And (high thyself advancing) p
•
oudly sayest;
I sit aloft, and am so high, that none
Can
•
etch me from the place I rest upon.
Yea, though thou no advantages didst want,
Of which the glorioust
Emperies
did vaunt;
Yet, sure, thou shalt be humbled and brought low;
Even then, perhaps, when least thou fear'st it so.
Till thou repent, provisions which are made
For thy defense, or others to invade,
Shall be in vain; and still, the greater cost
Thou shalt bestow, the honor that is lost
Shall be the greater; and thy wasted strength,
Be sick of a
Consumption,
at the length.
Thy
Treaties,
which for peace or profit be,
Shall neither peace, nor profit, bring to thee.
Or, if thy Counsels prosper for a while,
God will permit it, only to beguile
Thy foolishness; and tempt thee on, to run
Some courses, that will bring his Judgment on.
Yea, all thy winnings shall but fuel be,
To feed those follies that now spring in thee;
And make (with vengeance) those the more enrag'
•
Who shall for thy correction be engaged.
What ever threatened in God's Book ha
•
h been,
Against a wicked people for their sin,
Shall come on thee: His hand shall be for ill,
On every Mountain, and high-raised Hill.
Thy lofty
Cedars,
and thy sturdy
Oak
•
,
Shall feel the fury of his thunder-strokes.
Upon thy Ships, thy Havens, and thy Ports,
Upon thy Arms, thy Armies, and thy Forts,
Upon thy pleasures and commodities,
Thy Crafts mechanic, and thy Merchandize;
On all the fruits, and cattle in thy fields,
On what the Air, or what the Water yields,
On Prince, and People; on both weak, and strong▪
On Priest, and Prophet; on both old, and young;
Yea, on ea
•
h person, place, and everything,
The plague it hath deserved God shall bring.
What ever thou dost hope, he frustrate shall;
And, make what e're thou fearest, on thee fall.
This pleasant soil, wherein such plenty grows,
And where both milk and honey overflows,
Shall for thy people's wickedness be made
A Land as barren, as what never had
Such plenties in it. God shall drive away
Thy pleasant Fowls, and all those Fish that play
Within thy waters; and for whose great store
Some other Nations would have praised him more.
Those Rivers, that have made thy Valleys rich,
Sh
•
ll be like sh
•
ames of ever-bu
•
ning Pitch.
Thy dust,
•
s Br
•
mstone; fields as hard and dry
As i
•
on is; the Fi
•
mament, on high,
(
••
ke b
•
ass
•
) shall yield thee neither rain nor dew,
The
•
ope of wasted blessings to renew.
A leann
•
ss
•
, shall thy fatness quite devour;
Thy Wheat shall in the place of wholesome flower,
Yield naught but bran. Instead of grass and corn,
Thou shalt in times of harvest, reap the thorn,
The thistle, and the b
•
yar. Of their shadows
Thy
Gr
•
ves
shall robbed be. Thy flowery
Medowe
•
Shall sterile wax. There shall be seldom seen
Sheep on thy Downes; or
Shepherds
on the green.
Thy walks, thy gardens, and each pleasant plot,
Shall be as those where men inhabit not.
Thy
Villages,
where goodly dwellings are,
Shall stand as if they unfr
•
quented were.
Thy
C
•
ies,
and thy
Palaces,
wherein
Most neatness and magnificence hath been,
Shall heaps of rubbish be; and (as in those
Demolisht
Abbeys,
wherein Daws, and Crowes,
Now make their nests) the bramble, and the nettle,
Shall in their halls, and parlou
•
s, root, and set
•
le.
Thy Princes houses, and thy wealthy Ports,
Now filled with men of all degrees and sorts,
Shall no inhabitants in them retain,
But some p
•
ore Fisherman, or country Swain,
Who of thy glories, when the marks they see,
Shall wonder wha
•
those mighty ruins be;
As now they do, who old foundations find,
Of Towns and Cities, perished out o
•
mind.
The places where much people meetings had,
•
hall vermin holes, and dens for beasts be made.
Or wall
•
s for
Sprights,
who from those uncouth room
•
Shall fright the passenger, which that way comes.
Instead of
mirth
and
l
•
ughter, lamentation
Shall there abide: and, loathsome
desolation,
Instead of
company.
Where once was heard
Sweet melody, men shall be made afeard
With hideous cries, and howlings of despair.
Thy very
Climate,
and thy temp'rate air,
Shall lose their wholsomnesse, for thy offenses;
And breed hot
Fevers, Murraines, Pestilences,
And all diseases. They that now are trained
In ease, and with soft pleasures entertained;
Instead o
•
idle games, and wanton dances,
Shall practice how to handle guns, and launces:
And be compel'd to leave their friends embraces,
To end their lives in divers uncouth places;
Or else, thy face, with their own blood defile▪
In hope to keep themselves, and thee, from spoil.
Thy beauteous
Women
(whose great pride is more
Then theirs, whom
Isaiah
blamed heretofore)
Instead of paintings, and of costly sents,
Of glittering gems, and precious ornaments,
Shall wear deformity about their faces;
And, being robbed of all their tempting graces,
Feele wants, diseases, and all such like things,
Which to a wanton
Lover
loathing brings.
Thy God, shall for thy overflowing vices,
Scourge thee with
Scorpions, Serpents, Cockatrices,
And other such; whose tails with stings are armed,
That neither can be plucked forth, nor charmed.
Thou shalt not be suffiz'd when thou art fed;
Nor shalt thou suffer scarcity of bread
And temp'rall food alone; but, of that meat,
Whereof the faithful soul desires to eat.
That curse of
ravenous beasts,
which God hath said,
Upon a wicked kingdom shall be la
•
d,
He will inflict on thee. For, though there be
No Tigers Lions, Wolves, or Bears in thee,
By beastly minded men (that shall be far
More c
•
uell then those bloody spoilers are)
Thou shalt be torn: For, each man shall assay
His fellow to devour as lawful prey.
Instead of
Lions, Tyrants
thou shalt breed,
Who nor of Conscience, nor of Law take heed;
But, on the weak man's portion lay their paw,
And, make their
Ple
•
sures,
to become their
Law.
Instead of
Tigers,
men of no compassion,
A furious, and a willful generation,
Shall fill thy borders. Thieves, and outlawes vile,
Shall hunt the ways, and haunt the woods for spoil▪
As
Bears,
and
Wolves.
A subtle cheating crew
(That will with tricks and cousnages pursue
The simpler sort) shall here increase their breed▪
And, in their subtleties the
Fox
exceed.
That hoggish herd, which always rooting are
Within the ground, and never upward rear
Their grunting snouts; nor fix their eyes on heaven▪
To look from whence their daily food is given:
Those filthy swinish livers, who desire
To feed on draff, and wallow in the mire;
Those, who affect rank pudles, more then springs;
To trample and despise most precious things;
The holy to profane; God's herbs of
grace
To nouzle up; his Vineyard to deface;
And such like harms to do: these spoil thy fields,
Marre worse, then those wild
Bores
the desert yields.
If thou remain impenitent, thou art
Like
Egypt
; and, so stony is thy heart.
For w
•
ich obduratenesse, those plagves will all
Descend on th
•
e, wh
•
ch did on
Egypt
fall
Blood, Frog
•
,
and
Lice,
great swarms of uncou
•
h
Flies,
Th'infectious
M
•
rraine,
whereof Cat
•
le dies;
Boiles, Scab
•
,
and
Bl
•
ine
; fierce
H
•
il,
&
Thunder-storm
•
;
The
•
ocust,
and all fruit devouring
Wormes.
Grosse
Darkness,
and the
Death
or those that be
Thy Darlings; all those
Plagues
shall fall on thee,
According as the
Letter
doth imply,
Or, as in
mystick
sense th
•
y signify.
Thy purest Rivers God shall
•
•
u
•
ne to blood;
With every Lake, that hath been swe
•
t and good.
Even in thy nostrils he shall make it stink▪
For, nothing shall thy people eat or drink▪
Until their own, or others blood it cost;
Or, put their lives in hazard to be lost.
Most loathsome
Frogs
; that is, a race impure▪
Of base condition, and of birth obscure.
(Even in unwholesome fens, and ditches, bred)
Shall with a clownish rudeness over-spread
Thy pleasant'st fields; thy fairest rooms possess;
And make unwholesome (by their sluttishnesse)
Thy kneading troughs, thy ovens, and that meat,
Whereof thy people, and thy Princes eat.
This hateful brood, shall climb to croak and sing,
Within the lodging chambers of the
King.
Yea, there make practice of those natural notes,
Which issue from their evil-sounding throats:
To wit, vain brags, revilings, ribaldries,
Vile slanders, and unchristian blasphemies.
The
Land
shall breed a nasty
Generation,
Vnworthy either of the reputation
Or name of men. For, they as
Lice
shall feed
Even on the body whence they did proceed;
Till poverty, and sloven
•
y, and sloth,
Have quite disgraced them, and consumed them, both▪
There shall, moreover, swarms of divers
Flies,
Engendred be in thy prosperities,
To be a plague: the
Flesh fly
shall corrupt
Thy savory meats;
Musketoes
inte
•
rupt
The weary traveler; thou shalt have
Drones,
Dor
•
s, Hornets, Wasps,
and such l
•
ke angry-ones,
Who represent that sw
•
rme whose buzzing tongues
(Like stings) are used in their neighbors wrongs▪
And, still are flying, and still humm
•
ng so,
As if they meant some weighty woe
•
ks to do,
When as, upon the common stock they spend;
And naught perform of that which they p
•
etend.
Thy
Butter-flies
shall plague thee too; even those,
Who waste their Lands and Rents, in gaudy clothe
•
,
Or idle flutterings; and then spawn their seed,
Upon thy goodly'st flow'rs, and he
•
bs to feed.
As
Beasts
destroyed by the
Murraine
be,
So, they that are of beastly life in thee,
By lewd example shall infect each other;
And in their foul diseases
•
ot toge
•
her.
On all thy people, of what so
•
t soe're,
Shall
scabs,
and
biles,
and running
sores
appear,
The fruits of their corruption. Yea, wi
•
h pains
(Within their conscience, and with scars and blaines
Of outward infamy)
•
hey shall be grieved;
And, in their to
•
tures perish, unreli
•
ved.
Tempestuous
storms,
upon this
I will
shall fall,
Hot
Thunder-bolts,
and
Hail-stones
therewi
•
hall;
Men▪ either too too ho
•
, or too too cold;
Or else lukewarm. But, few or none sha
•
l hold
A rightful temper: and, these
meteors
will
Thy borders with a thousand mischieves fill.
The
Locust
also and the
Palmer wro
•
es,
Shall prey on what escapeth f
•
om the
Stormes:
Not they alone, which on the grass
•
do breed;
Bu
•
, also, they who fro
•
the
•
it
proceed
Which hath no bottom: and, when anything
Doth by the dew of heaven begin to spring,
They shall devour the same, till they have left thee,
Nor leaf nor blossom; but, of all bereft thee.
Then, shall a
darkness
follow, far more black,
Then when the light corporeal thou dost lack.
For, grossest
Ignorance,
o'reshadowing all,
Shall in so thick a darkness thee enthrall,
That, thou a blockish people shalt be made,
S
•
ill wandering o
•
in a d
•
ceiving shade;
Mistrusting those that saf
•
st paths are showing;
Most trusting them, who counsel thy undoing;
And aye
•
ormented be with doub
•
s and fears,
As one that o
•
tcries, in dark places hears.
Nor shall the hand of God from thee return,
Till he hath also smo
•
e thine
eldest-b
•
rne.
That is, till he hath taken from thee qu
•
te,
Even that whereon thou se
••
t thy whole delight;
And filled every house throughout this Nation,
With deaths unlooked for, and lamentation.
So great shall be thy ruin, and thy shame,
That when the neighb'ring kingdoms hear the same
Their ears shall tin
•
le. And when that day comes,
In which thy follies must re
•
eive their doom
•
s;
A day of clouds, a day of gloomin
•
sse,
A day of black despair, and heaviness,
It will appear. And, then thy vanity
•
,
Thy gold, thy silver, thy confederacies,
And all those reeds on which thou hast depended;
Will fail thy trust, and leave thee unbefriended.
Thy
King,
thy
Priest,
&
Prophets,
then shall mourn;
And, peradventure, f
•
inedly
•
e
•
u
•
ne
To beg of God to succou
•
them: but, they
Who will not ha
•
k
•
•
•
his voice today,
Shall c
•
y unh
•
ede
•
: and he will despise
Their v
•
wes, thei
•
prayers, and their sacrifice:
A sea of troubles, all thy hopes shall swallow:
As waves o
••
wav
•
s, so plague on plague shall follow:
And, ev'
•
y thing that was a blessing to thee,
Shall turn to be a curse, and help undo thee.
Thy
Sov'reigns
have to th
•
e thy
Fathers
been;
By means of them hath peace been
•
k
•
pt within
Thy sea-gi
•
t limits: they, thy weal befriended,
The blessed Faith they stoutly h
•
ve defended:
And, thou hast cause of goodly hopes in him,
Who hath, of late, put on thy
Diadem.
But know, that (till thou shalt repent) no part
Belongs to thee of what is his desert.
His princely virtues, to his own avail,
Shall profit much: but, they to thee shall fail.
To thee his clemency shall seem severe,
His favors all, shall injuries appear;
And when thy sin is fully
•
ipe in thee,
Thy Prince and People, then, alike shall be.
Thou shalt have
Babes
to be thy
Kings
; or worse▪
Those
Tyrants
who by cruelty and force
Shall take away thy ancient
freedoms
quite,
From all their
Subjects
; yea▪ themselves deligh
•
In their vexations: and, all those that are
Made slaves thereby, shall murmur, yet not dare
To stir against them. By degrees, they shall
Deprive thee of thy patrimonies all;
Compel thee (as in other Lands, this day)
For thin
•
own meat, and thine own drink to pay.
And, at the last, begin to exercise
Upon thy sons, all heathenish tyrannies,
As just
Prerogatives.
To these intents,
Thy Nobles shall become their instruments.
For, they who had their bi
•
th from noble races,
Shall (some and some) be brought into disgraces:
From offices they shall excluded stand:
And all their virtuous offspring, from the Land,
Shall quite be worn: instead of whom shall rise
A brood advanced by impieties,
By flattery, by purchase, and by that
Which every truly-noble one doth hate.
From stems obscure, and out of mean professions▪
They shall ascend and mount by their ambitions,
To seats of
Justice
; and those
Names
to bear,
Which honored most within these Kingdoms are▪
And being thither got, shall make more strong
Their new-built
Greatness,
by increasing wrong:
To those, will some of these themselves unite,
Who by their births to Lordly
Stiles
have right;
But, viciously confuming their estate,
Did from their fathers worths degenerate.
By this
Confederacy,
their nobler bloods
Shall countenance the others ill got goods;
The others wealth again, shall keep from scorn
Their beggary, who have been nobly borne:
And, both together, being else unable,
(In their ill course to make their standing stable)
Shall seek how they more great, and strong, may grow
By compassing the public over-throw.
They shall abuse thy
Kings,
with tales, and lies;
With seeming love, and servile flatteries.
They shall persuade them they have power to make
Their
Wills,
their
Law
▪ and as they please to take
Their people's goods, their children, and their lives,
Even by their just and due
Prerogatives.
When thus much they have made them to believe,
Then, they shall teach them practices to grieve
Their subjects by; and, instruments become
To help the screwing up, by some and some,
Of
Monarchies
•
o
Tyrannies.
They shall
Abuse
Religion, Honesty,
and all,
To compass their designs. They shall devise
Strange projects; and with impudence, and lies,
Proceed in settling them. They shall forget
Those reverent usages, which do befit
The majesty of
State
; and rail, and storm,
When they pretend disorders to reform.
In their high
Counsels,
and where men should have
Kind admonitions, and reprovings grave,
When they offend; they shall be threatened there,
Or scoffed, or taunted, though no cause appear.
It is unseemly for a
Judge
to sit
And exercise a jibing School-boys wit
Upon their trades, or names, who stand before
Their judgment se
•
ts: but, who doth not abhor
To hear it, when a Magistrate objects,
Birth, poverty, or personal defects
In an upbraiding wise? Or, who with me
Derides it not, when in out
Courts
we see
Those men, whose bodies are both old and weak,
(Forgetting gr
•
ve and useful things to speak)
Vent Giant
•
words▪ and bristle up, as though
Their very breath could armies overthrow▪
Whereas (poor we
•
klings) were there in their
place
•
No more authority, then in their faces,
Their persons, or their language, all their chasing▪
And threatening, nothi
••
would effect but laughing.
For, unto me big looks, and crying
hoh,
As dreadful seems, as when a child cries
boh
To fright his Nurse: yea, such a bug bear fashion
Effecteth naught but scornful indignation.
But in those times (which near
•
are then some
Suppose perhaps) such Rhetoric will come
To be in use; and arguments of
Reason,
And just proceedings, will be out of season.
Their
wisdom
shall be folly; and, go nigh
To bring contempt on their Authority.
Their
Counsel-Table
shall a snare be made,
And those 'gainst whom they no just matter had▪
At first appearance, shall be urged to say
Some word or other, e're they part away,
Which will betray their innocence to blame,
And bring upon them detriment and shame:
Yea, many times (as
David
hath of old,
Concerning such oppressors, well foretold)
To humble crouchings, and to feigned shows,
Descend they shall, to work men's ove
•
throws▪
And, what their subtlety doth fail to gain▪
They shall by rigor, and by force obtain.
What ever from thy people they can tear,
Or borrow, they shall keep, as if it were
A prize which had been taken from the Foe:
And, th
•
y shall make no conscience what they do
To prejud
•
ce
Posterity.
For, they
To gain their lust, but for the present day,
Shall with such love unto themselves endeavor,
That (though they knew it would undo forever
Their own posterity) it shall not make
Those
Mo
••
ters
any better course to take.
Nay, God shall give them up for their offenses,
To such uncom
•
lie reprobated senses:
And, blind them so, that (when the a
•
e they see
Even hewing at the root of their own tree,
By their own handy strokes) they shall not griev
•
For their approaching fall: no, nor believe
Their fall approacheth; nor assume that heed
Which might prevent it, till they fall indeed.
Thy
Princes, Britain,
in those days, will b
•
Like roaring
Lions,
making prey of thee.
God shall deliv
•
r thee into their hand,
And they shall act their pleasure in the Land▪
As once his
Prophet
threatened to that Nation▪
Which doth exemplify thy
Desolation.
Thy Kings (as thou hast wallowed in excess)
Shall take delight in drink, and wantonness.
And, those whom thou dost call thy
Noble-o
•
es
Shall to the very marrow, gnaw thy bones.
Thy
Lawyers
willfully shall wrest thy
Laws
▪
And (to the ruin of the common Cause)
Shall mis-interpret them, in hop
•
of grace
From those, who may dispoile them of their place▪
Yea, that whereto they are obliged, both
By
Conscience,
by their
Calling,
and their
Oat
•
To put in execution; they shall fear,
And, leave them helpless, who oppressed are.
Thy
Prelates
in the spoil of thee shall share;
Thy
Priests,
as light shall be, as those that are
The meanest persons. All their Prophecies▪
Or preachings, shall be heresies and lies.
The word of truth in them shall not remain,
Their lips no wholesome knowledge shall retain▪
And all his outward means of
saving Grace,
Thy God shall carry to another place.
Mark well oh
Britain!
what I now shall say,
And do not slightly pass these words away;
But, be assured that when God begins,
To bring that vengeance on thee, for thy sins,
Which hazard will thy total overthrow,
Thy
Prophets,
and thy
Priests
shall sliely sow
The seeds of t
•
at dissention, and sedition,
Which Time will
•
ipen for thy sad perdition.
Even they, who form
•
lie, were of thy peace
The happy instruments, shall then increase
Thy troubles most. And▪
•
v'n as when the
Jews
God's truth-presaging
Prophets
did abuse,
He suffered those who preached in hi
•
Name,
Such falsehoods as the chiefest cause became
Of their destruction: so if thou go on
To make a scorn (as thou hast o
•
ten done)
Of them who seek thy well are, he will send
False
prophets,
that shall bring thee to thine end,
By saying all things thou wouldst have them say:
And lulling thee asleep in thine own way.
If any brain-sick
Fellow,
whom the Devil
Seduceth to inflict on thee some evil,
Shall coin false Doctrines, or persuade thee to
Some foolish course that will, at length, undo
The
Common-weal
: his counsel thou shalt follow;
Then, covered with his bait, a hook shalt swallow
To rend thine entrails: and thine ignorance
Shall, also for that mischief, him advance.
But if that any lover of thy weal,
Inspir'd with truth, and with an honest zeal,
Shall tell thee ought pertaining to thy good,
His
Messag
•
s
shall stiffly be withstood:
That
Seer
shall be charged not to see;
His word shall slighted as a po
•
sherd be;
His life shall
•
e traduced, to disgrace
His Counsel
•
; or, his errant to debase:
Instead of recompense, he shall be sure,
Imprisonments, or threatenings to procure▪
And, peradventure (as those Prophets were,
Who did among the
Jew
•
sh
Peers declare
Their States en
•
r
•
ities) h
•
s good intention
May be so wrong
•
d, th
•
t he, by some invention,
May lose his li
•
e, wit
•
publ
•
ke shame and hate,
As one that i
•
a trouble
•
o
•
•
he
State.
But, not unl
•
sse
•
he
•
riest
thereto consent:
For in though
•
e
•
aye
•
shall
••
w men innocent
Be g
•
iev'd (t
•
r
•••
h any qu
••
ter of the Land)
In which thy
C
•
e
•
g
•
e
•
hall not have some hand.
If ever in thy
〈◊〉
, (as God
•
orbid)
The blood of t
•
in
•
own
children
shall be shed
By civil discord, they sha
•
l blow the flame,
That will become thy ruin, and thy shame.
And thus it shall be kindled. When the times,
Are nigh at worst▪ and thy increasing crimes
Almost complete; the Devil shall begin
To bring strange crotchets, and opinions in
Among thy
Teachers
; which will breed disunion▪
And interrupt the visible communion
Of thy established
Church
And, in the steed
Of zealous
Pastors,
(who God's flock did feed)
There shall arise within thee, by degrees,
A
Clergy,
•
hat shall more desire to fleece,
Then feed the flock. A
Clergy
it shall be,
Divided in it self: and they shall thee
Divide among them, into sev'rall factions,
Which rend thee will, and fill thee with distractions▪
They all in outward seeming shall pretend
God's glory, and to have one pious end:
But, under color of sincere devotion,
Their study shall be temporal promotion▪
Which will among themselves strange quarrels make
Wherein thy other Children shall partake.
As to the
Persons,
or the
Cause,
they stand
Affected, even quite throughout the
Land.
One part of these will for preferment strive,
By lifting up the
King
's prerogative
Above it self. They shall persuade him to
Much more then
Law
or
Conscience
bids him do▪
And say, God warrants it. His holy
Laws
They shall pervert, to justify their cause;
And, impudently wrest, to prove their ends,
What God, to better purposes, intends.
They shall not blush to say, that every
King
▪
May do like
Solomon,
in every
•
hing,
As if they had his warrant: and shall dare
Ascrib
•
to
Monarchs,
rights that proper are
To none but
Christ
; and mixe their flatteries,
With no less gross and wicked blasphemies,
Then
Heathens
did: yea, make their
Kings
believe,
That whomsoever they oppress or grieve,
It is no wrong; nor fit for men oppressed,
To seek by their own
Laws
to be red
•
essed.
Such counsel shall thy
Princes
then provoke,
To cast upon thee
Rehoboams
yoke.
And, they not caring, or not taking heed
How ill that ill-advised
King
did speed,
Shall m
•
ltiply thy causes of distraction.
For, then, will of thy
Priests,
the other faction
Bestir themselves. They will in outward shows,
Those whom I last have mentioned, oppose.
But, in thy ruin▪ they will both agree,
As in one
Center,
though far oft they b
•
In their
Diameter.
With lowly zeal,
An envious▪ pride they s
•
ily shall conceal▪
And, as the former to thy
Kings
will teach
Mere
Tyranny:
so shall these other preach
Rebellion to the People▪ and shall strain
The word of God, Sedition to maintain.
They shall not fear to say, that if thy
King
Become a
Tyrant,
thou mayest also fling
Obedience off; or f
•
om his Crown divorce him▪
Or, by the ter
•
or of drawn swords enforce him.
Which false
Divinity,
shall to the Devil
Send many souls and bring on thee much evil.
Oh! be thou therefore watchful; and when e're
These
Lambs
with
Dragons
voices do appea
•
e,
Repent thy sin, or t
•
ke it for a token,
That some great
Bulwark
•
of thy peace is broken,
Which must be
•
oone repaired or else, all
The greatness o
•
thy glory, down will fall.
Take heed of those
false prop
•
ets,
w
•
o will strive
Betwixt thy
Prince
and
People
to cont
•
ive
A disagreement. And, what ever come,
Thy due
Allegeance
never sta
•
t thou from.
For (their oppressions though we may withstand
By pleading
Laws,
or
Customs)
not a hand
Must move against them, save the hand of God▪
Who makes a
King,
a
Bulwark,
or a
Rod,
As pleaseth him. Oh! take ye therefore heed
Ye
People,
and ye
Kings
(that shall succeed)
Of these
Impostors.
Of the last beware
Ye
Subjects
: for, their Doctrines hellish are.
And though they promise
Liberty
and
peace,
Your Thraldome, and your Troubles they'll increase.
Shun oh! ye
Kings
the first; for, they advise
What will your Crowns and honors prejudice.
When you do think their
Prophecies
befriend you,
They do but unto
Ramoth-Gilead
send you,
Where you shall perish; and poor
Micah's
word,
Though less esteemed more safety will afford▪
They will abuse your
piety,
and all
Your
virtues.
To their wicked ends they shall
Apply the Sacred Story; or what ever
May seem to further their unjust endeavor.
Even what the son of
Hann
•
h
told the
Jews,
Should be their scourge (because they did refuse
The sov'raignty of God, and were so vain
To ask a
King
which over th
•
m might reign
A
•
heathen
Princes
did) that curse they shall
Affirme to be a Law
Monarchiall
Which God himself established to stand
Throu
•
hout all ages, and in every land.
Which is as good
Divinity,
as they
Have also taught, who do not blush to say
That Kings may have both
Wives
and
Concubines
;
And, by that Rule whereby these great Divines
Shall prove their
Tene
•
,
I dare undertake
(If
•
ound it hold) that I like proof will m
•
k
•
Of any
Jewish
Custom, and devise
Authority for all absurdities.
But, false it is. For, might all Kings
•
t pleasure
(As by the right of royalty) make ceasure
Of
•
ny man's possessions: why I pray
Did
Ahab
grieve, that
Naboth
said him nay?
Why made
•
e not this answer thereunto,
(If what the
Proph
•
t
said some
Kings
would do,
We
•
e justly to
•
e done)
Thy Vineyard's mine
;
And, at my pleasure,
Naboth,
all that's thine
Assume I may.
Why, like a Turkey-chick,
Did he so foolishly
•
row sullen sick,
And get poss
•
ssion by a wicked fact
Of what might have been his by royal act?
Thus God is pleased, to humble and to raise:
Thus, he by sev'rall
names,
and sev'rall
ways,
The world doth govern. Yea, thus, even in one nation,
And in one State, he makes much alteration
In forms of
Governme
•
t
; oft changing that
Which is but acc
•
dentall to a
State.
And, such his
Justice,
and his
Wisdom
is,
That he preserveth by the means of this,
Those things which do essentially pertain
To that great
Power,
which over all doth reign.
Nor is he pleased thu
•
it should be done
In
States
that merely civil are alone▪
But, also, in the
Churches
governments,
Allowes the change of outward accidents.
Yea, they to whom he gives the oversights
Of some particular
Church,
may change old
Rites,
The
Customs, Forms,
or
Titles,
as occasions
Are off
•
ed them; or, as the Times, or Nations,
Require a change: provided so, that they
Take nothing which essential is, away;
Nor add what shall repugn or prejudice
God's Laws,
his
Kin
•
dome,
or the
Liberties
Of them that ar
•
his people. For, in what
Hath any
Church
a pow
•
r, if not in tha
•
Which is indifferent? Or, in what I pray
Will men the
C
•
urch
authority obey,
If not in such like things? O
•
, who should be
The
Judge
what is indifferent, if not she?
A private
Spirit
knows what be
•
t agrees
With his own fancy; but the
Church
best se
•
What fit
•
t
•
e
Congregation.
From what gives
Offence to one▪ anothe
•
man receives
Much comfort: and, his conscienc
•
edifies,
By disciplines, which many do despise▪
A
Parish
is a little
Diocese
;
And, as of Cities, Towns, and Villages,
A
B
•
shoprick
consists: so, that doth rise
By
•
ythings, Hamlets, and by Families.
And lit
•
le diffrence would be in the same,
(Excepting in the la
•
genesse and the name)
I
•
their opinions were allowed of all,
Who savor not the style
Epis
•
opall:
Fo
•
, every
Priest
would then usurp the same
Aut
•
ority, where
•
of o
•
some hate the
name.
Yea, many a one would then his Parish make
A little
Popedom,
and upon him take
(Con
•
ide
•
ing his mean
•
power) as much as h
•
That
V
•
ive
•
s
•
ll Bishop
claims to be:
And, prove more p
•
oud, and troublesome, then they
Against whose
Lordlinesse
they now inveigh.
This therefore is my
Rule
; that
Government
(What e're it be) in which to me God
•
ent
My birth and breeding; that, until my end,
I will obey, and to my power d
•
fend.
Yea, though it tyrannize, I will denay
No more obedience, then by Law I may:
Even by those
Laws
and
Customs
which do stand
In force, and unrepealed in that Land.
What right another had, e're I was borne,
Or how, or for what sin, God's hand hath torn
His Kingdom from him, I will never care;
Let them go answer that who
Subjects
were,
(When lost it was) and had that means, and calling,
And years, which might prevented have his falling.
Or should another
Country
take me home
As one of hers; when thither I did come
I would nor seek, nor wish to innovate
The
Titles,
or the
Custom
•
of that
State,
To what some other Countries better thought:
But, leave such things to those to whom I ought.
And, there, if any
Faction
shall contstrain
That I one pa
•
t must take, I will maintain
What bore the Sov'raignty when I came thither;
And, I and that will stand and fall together.
The same obedience, also, keep I shall.
To governments
Ecclesiastical
Where e're I come; if nothing they command
Which doth God's word, ess
•
ntially, withstand:
Or, indirectly, or directly, thwart
His glory, or the purity pervert
Of Ch
•
istian Principles; nor further strife,
Nor c
•
use, nor countenance an evil life.
The
Hye
•
archy,
here, I will obey,
And reverence, while I in
England
stay.
In
Sco
•
land
if I lived, I would deny
No due respect to their
Presbyterie.
G
•
neva
should I visit, I would there
〈◊〉
myself to what their customs were.
Yea, wheresoe'
•
e I am, I will suppose
The
Spirit
in that
Church
much better know
•
What best that place befitteth, then I do:
And, I will live conformed thereunto,
In everything that's me
•
rly politick,
And injures not the Doctrines
Catholic.
To every temp'rall power I will be the same,
By whatsoever cognizance, or name,
M
•
n please to call it. If I should be sent
To
Poland,
where a mixed government
Establisht is; I would not t
•
ll them, there,
That any other Custom better were.
Were I in
Switzerland,
I would maintain
••
mocrity
; and, think to make it plain,
That for these
Times,
those
Can
•
ons,
and that
Nation.
There could not be a better
Domination.
In
Venice,
far before a
Monarchy
I would p
•
efer an
Aristocratie.
In
Spái
•
e,
and
France,
and in Great
Britain
here,
I hold no Governments more perfect are
Then
Monarchies.
And, if God's will should be,
Bene
•
th a
Tyrant
to envassaile me,
I would p
•
rswade myself, that heavy yoke
Were best, for some respects; and, to the stroke
Even of an i
•
on Mace would subject be,
In
body
▪ with a
mind
that should be free
From his enforcement, (
•
f he did withstand,
Or bid me what God's
Law
doth countermand.)
There is, I know, a
middle-way
that lies
Even just betwixt the two extremities,
Which to
sedition,
and to
faction
tend.
To find which tract, my whole desire I bend;
And wish it followed more. For, if we tread
That harm
••
sse path, we cannot be misled;
Nor shamed, though blamed we be. To every man
I fain wou
•
d give his due; and all I can
I do endeavor it. I would not wrong
My
Country
; neither take what doth belong
To
Caesar:
nor infringe, or prejudice,
The Universal
Churches
liberties;
Nor for her outward
Discipline
prefer
Or censure, any
Church
particular;
Or any
State,
but as befit it may,
His
Muse,
which naught but needful truths doth say.
Nor have I any purpose to withdraw
Obedience, or respect from any
Law
That's positive; or, to dishearten from
Those
Customs,
which a Christian state become.
If such Divinity, as this were true,
The
Queen
•
should not have needed to pursue
Poor
Naboth,
as she did; or, so contrive
His death; since by the Kings
Prerogative,
She might have got his
Vineyard.
Nor would God
Have scourged that murder with so keen a rod,
O
•
Ahab,
had he asked but his due.
For, he did neither plot, nor yet pursue
The murder; nor (for ought that we can tell)
Had knowledge of the deed of
Jezebel.
Till God revealed it by the Prophet to him.
Nor is it said, that
Naboth
wrong did do him,
Or disrespect; in that he did not yield,
•
o sell, or give, or to exchange his Field.
The Jewish
Commonwealth
did so instate,
That, their possessions none could alienate,
But for a time; whoever, for his money,
Or in exchange, desired their patrimony.
And▪ doubtless, we offend, who at this day
Those
Freedomes
give, or lose, or sell away,
Which were in common right possessed of old,
By our Forefathers; and, continue should
To all their
after-comers.
For, altho
We may dispose of what pertains unto
Our persons: yet, those dues which former ages
Have left unto us for our heritages,
(And whereunto, the child that borne must be,
Hath every whit as good a right as we)
Those dues we should preserve with all our might,
By pleading of our just and ancient right,
In humble wise; if so the Sovereign state
Our Freedomes shall attempt to violate.
But, when by peaceful means we cannot save it,
We to the pleasure of the King must leave it,
And unto God our Judge: For all the power
In us, consists in saying,
This is our.
A King is for a blessing, or a
•
urfe:
And therefore though a
F
•
ole
he were, or worse,
A
Tyrant,
or
•
n
Ethnic)
no man may
So much as in their p
•
ivate clossets, pray
Against his person; though they may petition
Against the wickedness of his condition.
Nor, is this
•
uffrance due to those alone,
Who
••
bject are unto a
Monarchs
throne,
But, from all those who either subjects are
To mixed Governments, or popular.
For, though irregularities appear
In every State; because but men they are
Whom God exalts to
•
ule: yet, it is he
By whom all Governments ordained be.
And every
Government
(although the
Name
Be different) is in effect the same.
In
Monarchies,
the
Counsel
(as it were
An
Aristocracy)
one while doth bear
The sway of all▪ and though they name the
King
▪
Yet, him they over-rule in ev'
•
y thing.
Sometime a
••
ine, the pop
•
lar voice we see,
Doth awe the
Counsel,
when in them there be
Some pop'lar
Spirits. Aristocracies
Are otherwhile the same with
Monarchies.
For, one great man among them gets the power,
From all the rest, and like an
Emperor,
Doth act his pleasure. And we know tis common.
To have some foolish
Favorite,
or
Woman,
To govern him. So, in a pop'lar State,
Affaires are managed by the self same fate;
And, either one or moe, away do steal
The people's hearts, and sway the Commonwealth.
Thus God is pleased, to humble and to raise:
Thus, he by sev'rall
names,
and sev'rall
ways,
The world doth govern. Yea, thus▪ even in one nation,
And in one State, he makes much alteration
In forms of
Governmen
•
; oft changing that
Which is but accedentall to a
State.
And, such his
Justice,
and his
Wisdom
is,
That he preserveth by the means of this,
Those things which do essentially pertain
To that great
Power,
which over all doth reign.
Nor is he pleased thus it should be done
In
States
that merely civil are alone;
But, also, in the
Churches
governments,
Allowes the change of outward accident
•
.
Yea, they to whom he gives the oversights
Of some particular
Church,
may change old
Rites,
The
Customs, Forms,
or
Titles,
as occasions
Are offered them; or, as the Times or Nations,
Require a change: provided so, that they
Take nothing which essential is, away;
Nor add what shall repugn or prejudice
God's Laws,
his
Kin
•
dome,
or the
Liberties
Of them that are his people. For, in what
Hath any
Church
a pow
•
r, if not in
•
hat
Which is indifferent? Or, in what I pray
Will men the
Church
authority obey,
If not in such like things? O
•
, who should be
The
Judge
•
what is indifferent, if not she?
A private
Spirit
knows what be
••
agrees
With his own fancy; but the
Church
best se
•
What fit
•
the
Congregation.
From what gives
Offence to one; another man receives
Much comfort: and, his conscience edifies,
By disciplines, which many do despise▪
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Nor h
•
ve I any thought to scandalize,
Or speak amiss of Principalities;
Or, to traduce men's persons: but, I fall
On errors of men's lives in general,
And, on those great
Abuses,
which I see
To blemish every
Calling
and
Degree.
Of
Dignity
•
and
Persons,
I observe
All me
•
nes I can, their honors to preserve
•
,
When I reprove their faults. And, even as he
That hunteth
Foxes,
where
Lambes
feeding be,
May fright that harmless flock, and suffer blame
Of some
By-standers,
(knowing not his Game)
When from his Dog
•
, those Innocents are free,
And none but their devour
•
s bitten be.
So, though my reprehensions, often are
Mistook by foolish
Readers
; they are far
From repr
•
hending those, or taxing that
Which is unfitting for my shooting at.
I speak those things which will advantage rather
Then harm: and hence this blinded age may gath
•
r
M
•
ch light. This little
Volume
doth relate
Nought else but what is like to be our
Fate
;
If sin increase; and what in former times
Did fall on other
Nations
for their crimes,
I utter what our welfare may increase,
And help confirm us in a happy peace;
Which they will never compass, who p
••
sue
To speak what's pleasing, rather then what's true.
How ever, here my thoughts deliv'red be:
Let God as he shall please, deliver me.
And if what here is mentioned, thou dost he
••
(Oh
Britain!)
in those times that sh
•
ll succeed,
It may prevent much loss, and make thee shun
Those mischiefs, whereby Kingdoms are undone.
But, to thy other sins, if thou shalt add
Rebellions (as false
Prophets
will persuade)
Which likely are to follow, when thou shalt
In thy profession of
Religion
halt:
Then, will thy
Kings
and
People
scourge each other,
For their offenses, till both fall together:
By weakening of your pow'rs, to make them way,
Who seek and look for that unhappy day.
Then, shall disorder everywhere abound,
And neither just nor pious man be found.
The best shall be a
Briar
or a
Thorn,
By whom their neighbors shall be scratched & to
••
e.
Thy
Princes
shall to nothing condescend
For any merit just, or pious end;
But either for increasing of their treasure,
Or for accomplishing their willful pleasure:
And un
•
o what they
•
ell or deign for meed,
There shall be given little trust or heed.
For, that which by their words confirm they shall,
(The royal Seals uniting therewithal)
A toy shall frustr
•
te; and a gift shall make
Their strictest
O
•
ders
no effect to take.
The
Judge,
without a bribe, no
Cause
shall end:
No man shall trust his bro
•
her, or his friend:
The parents and the children shall despi
•
e
And hate, and spoil each other: she that lies
Within her husbands bosom, shall betray him:
They who thy people should protect, shall stay them:
The aged
•
hall reg
•
r
•
ed be of none:
The poor shall by the rich be trodden on:
Such grievo
•
s inf
•
olencies, everywhere
Shall acted be; that good and bad shall fear
In thee to dwell; and, men discreet shall h
•
te
To be a
Ruler,
or a
Magistrate
;
When they behold (without impenitence)
So much injustice, and such violence.
And, when thy wickedness this height shall gain,
To which (no doubt) it will e're long attain▪
If thou proceed: Then, from the bow that's bent
(And half way dr
•
wne already) shall be
•
ent
A mortal arrow; and it pierce thee shall
Quite through the head, the liver, and the gall.
The Lord shall call, and whistle from af
•
rre,
For those thy enemies that fiercest are:
For those thou fearest most; and they shall from
Their Coun
•
ries, like a whi
•
le wind hither come.
They shall nor sleep, nor stumble, nor untie
Their garments, till within thy fields they lie.
Sharp shall their arrows be, and strong their bow.
Their faces shall as full of horror show
As doth a Lions. Like a bolt of thunder,
Their troops of horse shall come, & tread thee und
•
r
Their iron feet. Thy foes shall eat thy bread,
And with thy flocks both clothed be, and fed.
Thy
Dwellers,
they shall carry from their own,
To
Countries
which their fathers have not known
•
▪
And, thither shall such mischiefs them pursue,
That they who seek the pit-fall to eschew,
Shall in a snare be taken. If they shall
Escape the sword, a Serpent in the wall
To death shall sting them: yea (although they hap
To shun a hundred plagues) they shall not scape;
But, with new dangers, still be cha
•
'd about,
Until that they are wholly rooted out.
The
Plowman,
then, shall be afraid to sow;
Artificers
their labor shall forgo▪
The
Merchant
man shall cross the Seas no more▪
(Except to fly and seek some other shore)
Thy
ablest-m
•
n
shall faint: thy
wise-ones,
then,
Shall know themselves to be but foolish men.
And th
•
y who built and plant
•
d by oppression,
Shall leave their gettings to the foes possession.
Yea, God will scourge thee,
England,
•
even times more
With seven times greater
Plagues
then heretofore.
Then, thy
Allies
their friendship shall withdraw;
And, they that of thy greatness stood in awe,
Shall say (in scorn) Is this the valiant Nation,
That had throughout the world such reputation,
By
victories
upon the shore? Are these
That people, which were masters of the s
•
as,
And grew so mighty? yea that petty Nation,
That were not worthy of thy indignation,
Shall mock thee too; and all thy former fame,
Forgot shall be, or mentioned to thy shame.
Mark how God's
pl
•
gues
were doubled on the
I
•
ew
•
When they his mild corrections did abuse:
Mark what, a
•
last upon their Land h
•
sent;
And, look thou for the se
•
e same punishment,
If them thou imitatest. I or their sin,
At fi
•
st, but eight years
Bondage
they were in.
Their wick
•
dn
•
sse grew more; and God did then,
To
Eglon,
make them sl
•
ves,
•
ight years and ten.
They dis
•
beying, still, the God of heaven;
Their years of
Servitude
were twenty seven,
To
Jabin
and to
Midian.
Then, prevailed
Philistia
fo
•
ty yea
•
es; and, when that failed,
To make
•
hem of their evil ways rep
•
nt,
There was, among themselves, a fatal rent;
And, they oft scourged each other. Still, they trod
The self same path; and, then the hand o
•
God
Brought
Ashu
•
on them; and, did make them bear
His heavy yo
•
ke, until the seventy
•
h year.
And last of all the
Rom
•
ne
Empire came,
Which from their
Country
rooted out their
Name.
That foolish project which they did embrace,
To keep them in possession o
•
their
place,
Did lose it. And, like
Cain,
that vagrant
Nation,
Hath now remained in fearful
Desolation
Nigh sixteen hundred years: and, (whatsoever
Some l
•
tely dream) in vain, they look for he
•
e
A temp'rall
Kingdom.
For, as long ago
Their
Psalmist
said;
No Prophet doth foresh
•
w
This
•
hraldomes end.
Nor shall it end until
The
Gentiles
their just number do fulfill:
Which is unlike to be until th
•
t hour▪
In which there shall be no more temporal power,
Or temporal
K
•
ngdome.
Therefore▪ gather them
(Oh Lord▪) unto thy new
Jerusalem,
In t
•
y due time. For, ye
•
, unto that p
•
ace
They have a promi
•
t right, by thy mere grace.
To those who shall repent, thy firm
Election
Continues in this t
•
mpo
•
all rejection.
Oh!
•
hew thy mercy in their desol
••
ion,
That thou mayest honored be in th
•
ir salvation.
Yea, teach us also, by their fearful fall,
To he
•
ken to thy voice, when th
•
u do
•
t ca
•
l;
(Lest thou in anger, unto us protest,
That we
•
h
•
ll never come into thy rest)
For, we
•
ave followed them in all their sin:
Su
••
, and so m
••
y, have our warnings been:
An
•
▪
〈◊〉
thou st
••
l prolong not thy compassion▪
To us belongs the self same
Desolation.
And it will
•
ho
•
tly come▪ with all those terror
•
T
•
at were on them inflicted, for their errors.
Then, woe shall be to th
•
m, th
••
hereto
•
ore
By joy
•••
g house to hou
••
,
〈◊〉
the poor▪
And field have into field incorporated,
Until th
•
ir
Tow
•
esh
•
ps
were depopulated.
For, desolate their dwelling shall be made:
Even in their blood the Lord shall bathe his blade:
And they that have by avarice, and wiles,
Erected Palaces and costly Piles;
Shall think, the stones and timbers, in the wall,
Aloud, to God, for vengeance on them call.
Then, woe sh
•
ll be to them who early rise
To eat, and drink, and play, and wanton
•
ize;
Still adding sin to sin: for, they the pain
Of cold, and thirst, and hunger, shall sustain;
And be the servile slaves of them that are
Their Foes; as to their Lusts they captives were.
Then▪ woe to them who d
•
rknesse more have loved
Then l
•
ght; and good advice h
•
ve d
•
s
•
pprov'd:
For, they shall wander in a crooked pa
••
,
Which neit
•
er light▪ nor end, nor c
•
m
•
ort hath
And, when for
Guides,
and
Couns
•
ll
they do cry,
Not one sh
••
l pity them, who p
•
sseth by.
Then, woe to them that have corrupted
•
in,
To justify the
wicked
in his sin;
Or, for a bribe, the
righteous
to condemn:
For, fl
•
mes (as on the chaff) sha
•
l seize on them:
Their bodies to the dun
•
hill shall be cast;
Their flower shall turn to dust; their flock shall wast▪
And all the glorious t
••
les they have woe
•
ne,
Shall but increase their infamy and scorn.
Then, woe to them that have been raised aloft
By good men's ruins; and by laying soft
And easy pillows, under great men's arms,
To make them pleased in their alluring charms.
Then, woe to them, who being grown a
•
raid
Of some nigh peril, sought unlawful aid;
And, setting God's protection quite aside,
Upon their own inventions have rely'd.
For, God their fo
•
lish hopes will bring to naught;
On them, their feared mischief sh
•
ll be brought▪
And, all their wit and strengt
•
, shall not suffi
•
e,
To heave that sorrow off, which on them lies.
Yea, then, oh
Britain!
woe to everyone,
That hath without repentance evil don
•
:
For, those who do n
•
r heed, no
•
bear in mind
His visitings, God's reaching hand will find;
And they with howling cries and lamentation,
Shall sue and seek, in vain, for his compassion.
Because they car
•
less of his M
•
rcies were,
Till in consuming wrath he did
•
ppea
•
e.
But, still, we set far off that evi
•
l day;
In dull
security
we pass away
Our precious time; and with v
•
ine hopes and toys,
Build up a trust which
•
v'ry puff destroys.
And therefore, still when healing is expected,
New and unlookt for troubles are effected.
We gather
Armies,
and we
Fleets
prepare;
And, then, both strong and safe we think we are.
But, when we look for victories, and glory,
What follows, but events that make us sory?
And tis God's mercy that we turn our faces
With so few losses, and no more disgraces.
For, what are most of those whom we commend
Such act
•
ons to; and whom we forth do send
To fight those
Battels,
which the
Lord's
we call,
But, such as never fight for him at all?
Whom dost thou make thy
Captains,
and dispos
•
Such
Offices
unto, but unto those
(Some few excepted) who procure by friends▪
Command and pay, to serve their private ends?
Their
la
•
guage,
and their
practices
decla
•
e,
That entertained by God's
Foe
they were.
Their whoring, swearing, and their drunkenness,
Do far more plainly to the world express
What
General
they do belong unto,
Then all their
Feath
•
rs
and their
Ensigns
do.
These, by their unrep
•
nted sins, betray
Thy
Cause.
By these, the honor, and the day
Is lost: and when thou hopest tha
•
thy trouble
Shall have an end, thy danger waxeth double.
We wisht for
Parlia
•
ents
; and them we made
Our God:
•
or, all t
•
e hope that many had
To remedy the public discontent,
Was by t
•
e wisdom of a
Parli
•
meant.
Well;
Parliaments
we had; and what in being,
Succeedeth ye
•
, but greater disag
••
eing,
With g
•
eater
gri
•
va
•
ces
then heretof
•
re?
And reason good: for, we depended more
On outward means, then on God's will that sends
All punishments; and all afflictions
•
nds.
Believe it should our
Parliaments
a
•
ree
In every
motion
: should our
Sovereign
be
So gracious, as to condescend to all
Which for his weal and ours, propose we s
•
all;
Even that
Agr
••
meant,
till our sins we leave,
Shall make us but secure; a
•
d help to weave
A snare, by whose fine threads we shall be caught,
Before we see the mischie
•
e that is wrought.
Whilst we by
Parliam
•
nts
do chiefly se
•
k
Mere temp'rall ends, the King shall do the like:
Yea, till in them we mutually agree
To help each other; and unfeigned be
In lab'ring for a Christian
Reformation
;
Each Meeting shall b
•
get a new vexation.
This
Island
hath some sense of what she ayles,
And very much, these evil times bewayles:
But, not so much our sins do we lament,
Or mourn that God for them is discontent,
As that the
Pla
•
ues
they bring disturb our pleasures,
Encrease our dangers, and
•
x
•
aust our treasure
•
.
And, for these causes, now and then we
•
ast,
And
pray,
as long as half a day doth last.
For, if the Sun do but a li
•
tle clear
That cloud, from which a tempest we do fear
•
▪
What kind of g
•
iefe we took, we plainly show
By those rejoicings which thereon ensue:
For, in the stead of such du
•
thankfu
•
ness
•
,
As Christian zeal obligeth to express;
To Pleasure (not to God) we sacrifize;
Renue our sins; revive our vanities;
And, all our vowed gratitude expi
•
es,
In Games, in Guns, in Bels, in Healths, or Fires▪
We fain would be at peace; but few men go
That way,
•
s y
•
t, whereby it may be so.
We have not that h
•
mility which must
Effect it: we
•
re f
•
l
•
e, and cannot trust
Each other▪ no nor God with true confessions:
Which shows that we abhor not our transgression
•
▪
It proves, t
•
at
•
f our errors, we in heart
Repent not, neither purpose to depart
F
•
om any f
•
lly
〈◊〉
or all they that are
Sincerely penitent▪ do nothing fear
So much as t
••
ir own
•
uil
•
; nor seek to gain
•
Oug
•
t more, then to be reconc
•
l'd again:
And, they that ar
•
•
hus minded, never can
Be long unreconcil'd to God, or man.
When we should
••
oop, we most ourselves exalt;
And (though we be) would no
•
be thought in fault.
Nay, though
•
gh we faulty be,
•
nd thought, & known,
And proved so; and
•
ce that we are th
•
own
By our apparent erro
•
s, into straits,
From which we cannot g
•
t by all our sleights:
Yet, still ou
•
selves we vau
•
t and justify,
And struggle,
•
ill the sn
•
re we faster
•
ye.
We sin, and we to boast it have no shame,
Yet s
••
rme when oath
•
s do our follies name:
And rather then we will so much as say
We did amiss (though that might wipe away
The stain of all) I think that some of us
So will
•
ull are, so proud, and mischievous,
That we ours
•
lves w
•
uld ruin, and our
Nation,
To keep our shadow of a
Reputation.
Oh! if we are thus headstrong, tis unlike
We any part of our proud sails will strike
Till they have sunk our
Vessel
in the Sea,
Or by th
•
furious wind
•
, are torn away.
Twere better▪ though, we did confess our wound,
Then hide it till our s
•
ate grew more unsound.
Twere better we some wealth, or office lost,
Then keep them, till our lives, and all, it cost:
And therefore, let us wisely be advised,
Befo
•
e we by a tempest be surprised.
Down first with our
Top-gallants
and our
Flags
;
In storms▪ the skillful'st Pilots make no brags.
Let us (if that be not enough) l
•
t f
•
ll
Our
Misne-yeard,
and strike our top-sails all.
If this we find be not enough to do▪
Strike Fote-sails, Sprit-sails, yea and Main-sails too.
And, rather then our
Ship
should sink or rend;
Let's over board,
•
oods, mast, and tackling send.
Save but the
Hull,
the
Master,
and the
Men
;
And we may l
•
ve to scour the seas agen.
Believe it
England,
howsoever some
(Who should fo
•
esee thy
plagues
before they come)
End
•
vor to persuade thee that thou hast
A hopeful time▪ and that the woe
•
st is past.
Yet I dare bol
•
lie tell thee, thou hast nigh
Worne out God's patience by impiety.
And, that unless the same we do r
•
new
By penitence, our folly we shall rue.
But, what am I, that me thou shouldest believe?
Or, unto what I tell thee,
•
redit give?
It may be this adul
•
rous
Genera
•
ion
Expecteth tokens of her desolation;
And therefore I will give them signs of that
Which they are almost now arrived at.
Not
signs,
so mystical as most of those
Which did t
•
e ruin of the
Jews
•
isclose;
But,
signs
as evident as are
•
he day.
For, know ye
Britanies
▪ that what God did say
Jerusalem's
destruction should foresh
•
w,
He spake to every
State
that should ensue.
And, tha
•
he naught of her, or to her sp
•
ke,
For hers alone, but also for our sake.
One
sign
that God's long-suffering we have tired,
And that
•
is
patience
is almost expired,
Is this; that many Judgments he hath sent,
And still removed them e're we did repent.
For, God (even by his
Holiness
) did swear,
(Saith
Amos
) such a Nation
•
e will tear
With Brye
•
s, and with Fish hooks rend away
The whole posterity of such as they.
Cl
•
ane teeth
(saith God)
I gave them; and with bread
In many places, them I scantly fed;
And yet they sought me not: Then I restrained
The dew of heaven; upon this Field I rained,
And not on that; yea, to one City came
Some two or three, to quench their thirsty
•
lame;
Yet, to ret
•
rne to me, no care they took:
With Blastings then, and Mildewes, I them struck;
And mixed among their Fruits the Palmer-worm;
Yet, they their lives did not a jot reform:
Then did I send the Pest
•
lence
(said he)
Devoured by the Sword,
•
heir youngmen be;
Their Horse are slain, and up to heaven ascends
Their stink; yet I discover no amends.
The self same things thy God in thee hath done,
Oh
En
•
land!
yet, here follows thereupon
So small amendment, that they are a
sign
To thee; and their sharp Judgment, will be thine.
The second
Tohen
which doth fore declare
When
Cities, States,
and
Realms,
declining are,
Even
Christ
himself hath left us: For, (saith he)
When Desolation shall approaching be,
Of wars, and warlike rumors ye shall hear;
Rare signs and tokens will in heaven appear;
Down from the Firmament the Stars sh
•
ll fall;
The hearts of many men, then, sails th
•
m shall;
There will be many scandals and offenses;
Great Earth quakes, Schisms, Dearths, and Pestilences;
Realm, Realm; and Nation, Nation shall oppose;
The nearest friends, shall be the greates
•
foes.
Against the Church shall many tyrannize;
Deceivers, and false Prophets, shall arise;
In every place shall wicked
•
esse abound;
And, Charity shall very cold be found.
This,
Christ
himself did prophecy: And we
Are doubtless blind, unless con
•
est it be,
That at this hour, upon this Kingdom here,
These ma
•
ks of Desolation viewed are.
How often have we s
•
ene prodig
•
ous
lights,
O'resp
•
ead
•
he f
•
ce of heaven in moonlesse nigh
•
s?
How many dreadful
Met
•
ors
have there been
In this ou
•
Climate,
lately heard and seen?
Who knoweth nor that but a while ago
A
Blazing Star
did threat, if not foreshow
God's Judgments? In what age, tofore, did here
So many, who did
Saints
and
Stars
appear,
Fall (as it were) from heaven? Or who hath heard
Of greater
Earthquakes,
then have lately scared
These quarters of the world? How oft, the touch
Of
Famine
have we had? But, when so much
Devou
•
ed by the
Pestilence
were we,
As in this present year our people be?
Of
Wars,
and martial rumors, never more
Wer
•
heard within these confines heretofore;
When were all Kingdoms, and all Nations through
The world, so opposite as they are now?
We know no Country, whether nigh or far,
But is engaged, or threatened with some
War.
All places, either present woes bewail;
Or else things feared make men's hearts to fail.
False
Prophets
▪ and
Deceivers
we have many;
We scarcely find integrity in any:
The Name of
Christ,
begins in every place
To suffer persecution
•
nd disgrace;
And, we the greatest jeopardies are in,
Among our neighbors, and our nearest kin.
Strange
Heresies
do ev'
•
ywhere increase,
Distur
•
ing
Zion,
and exiling peace.
Impiety doth multiply. True love
Growes cold. And, if these
tokens
do not prove
Our fall draws on, unless we do amend:
I know not when our folly shall have end.
A third apparent
sign
which doth d
•
clare
When some devouring
Pl
•
gue
approacheth near,
Is when a Nation doth anew begin
To let Idolatry to enter in;
And openly, or secre
•
lie give place
To
Heresy,
where
Truth
established was:
Or when like
Jeroboam,
to possess
An outward profit, or a temporal peace,
They either change
Religions,
or devise
A worship which doth mixe Idolatries
With truth. For this, even for this very crime,
The King of
Ashur,
in
H
•
shea
's time
Led
Isr
•
el
captive. And, both from the sight
Of God; and from the house of
David
quite,
They were c
•
t off forever, and d
•
d neither
Serve
God
nor
Idols
; but even both toge
•
her;
In such a mixed
Religion
as is that
Which some among us, now, have aimed at.
Mark,
England
; and I prithee mark it well,
If this offense which ruined
Israel,
On thee appear nor: and, if so it be,
Amend; or look for what it threatens thee.
The fourth true
token
which do
•
h fore express
The ruin of a Land
•
or wickedness,
Is when the
P
•
jests
and Magistrates begin,
To grow ext
•
eamly impudent in fin.
This
Sign,
the Prophet
Micah
•
iveth us;
And he (not I) to you cries loudly thus:
Hear, oh ye house of Jacob, and all ye
That Princes of the house of Is
•
ael be:
Ye Justice hate; and ye pervert what's good;
Ye build the wall
•
of Zion up with blood;
Jerusalem with sin, ye up have reared,
Your Judges pass their censures for reward;
Your Priests do preach for hire, your Prophets do
Like them▪ and prop
•
ecy for money too.
And, for this cause shall Zion mount
(saith he)
Even like a plowed field become to be;
And like a Forre
•
t hill where b
•
shes grow▪
The City of Jerusalem shall show.
Change but the names, oh
Britain,
and that token
Of desolation, unto the
•
is spoken.
For, what this day thy
Priests
and
Princes
are▪
Their actions, and the people's cries declare.
A fifth sure
evidence
that God among
Thy ruins will en
•
omb thy fame e're long,
(If thou repent not) is even this, that thou
Dost every day the more ungodly grow,
By how much more the blessed means of grace
Doth multiply it self in every place.
God sends unto thee many learned Preachers,
Apostles, Pastors,
and all kind of teachers;
His
Visions,
and his
Prophecies
upon thee
He multiplies. And (that he might have won thee
To more sincerity) on all occasions,
By counsel, by entreaty, and persuasions,
He hath advised, allured, and besought thee:
With precept upon precept, he hath taught thee;
By line on line; by miracle; by reason;
In every place; in season, out of season;
By little and by little; and by much
(Sometime) at once: yet is thy nature such,
That still thou waxest worse; and in the room
Of pleasant Grapes, more Thistles daily come:
And, thou that art so
•
aughty, and so proud,
For this, shall
•
vanish like an empty cloud;
And, as a Lion, Leopard, or a Bear,
Thy God, for this, shall thee in pieces tear.
If thou suppose my
Muse
did this devise,
Go take it from
Hosea
's prophesies
The sixth undoubted
signal
when the last
Good days of sinful
Realms
are almost past▪
Is when the people near to God shall draw
In word, to make profession of his
Law
:
And, by their tongues his pray
•
es forth declare;
Yet, in their hearts from him continue far.
To such a
Land,
their de
••
iny displaye
•
Isaiah
: for even thus the Prophet says:
God will produce a marvel in that State,
And do a work that men shall wonder at;
The wisdom of their wisest Counselor,
Shall perish, and their prudent men shall err.
On their deep Counsels, sorrow shall attend;
Their secret plots shall have a dismal end;
Their giddy projects which they have devised,
Shall as the Potters clay be quite despised.
Like Carmel, Lebanon shall seem; and he
Like Lebanon, shall make mount Carmel be.
Their pleasant Fields like Desarts shall appear;
And, there shall Gardens be, where Desarts are.
God keep (thou
British I will)
this plague from thee▪
For, signs thereof upon thy Body be.
Thou of the purest worship makest profession;
Yet, waxest more impure in thy condition.
Thou boastest of the knowledge of God's word,
Yet, there unto in manners to accord
Thou dost refuse. Thou makest protestation
Of piety; yet hatest reformation.
Yea▪ when thy tongue doth sing of praise divine,
T
•
y heart doth plot some temporal design.
And, some of those, who in this wise are holy,
Begin to show their wisdom will be folly.
•
or, when from sight their snares they deepest hide,
By God Almighty's eyes they are espide.
The seventh
Symptom
of a dreadful blow,
(If not of a perpe
•
uall overthrow)
Is when a slumb
•
ing
Spirit
doth surprise
A nation; and hath closed up their ey
•
s:
Or when the
Prophets
and the
Seers
are
So cloud
•
d, that plain truths do not appear:
Or when the
Visions
evidently seen
Are passed by, as if they had not been:
Or when, to Nations who can read, God gives
His
Book
; and thereof doth unseal the leaves,
And bids them read the same, which they to do
Deny; or
•
lead unablen
•
sse thereto.
Black
signs
are th
•
se. For if that
Book
to them,
Still dark; or as a Book unsealed seem;
Or, if they heed no more what here is said,
Then they that have the
Book,
and cannot read;
The
Judgments,
last repeated, are the doom,
That shall on such a stupid
Nation
come.
This
Sign
is come on us; for, loe, unsealed
God's
Book
is now among us▪ and revealed
Are all the
Mysteries
which do concern
The children of this present age to learn.
So well hath he instructed this our Land,
That we not only read, but understand
The secrets of his
Word.
The prophecies
Of his chief
Seers,
are before our eyes,
Vnveiled: true interpretations
A
•
e made, and many proper applications
Even to ourselves; yet is ou
•
he
•
t so blind,
That what we know and see, we do not mind.
We hear, and speak, and much ado we keep;
But we as sense
•
less are as men asleep
What th
•
n we do. Yea, wh
•
le that we are talking,
What sna
•
es are in the way where we are wall
•
ing,
We heed not what we say, b
•
t pass along;
And many times,
•
re fast
••
snar'd among
Those mi
••
hiefes, and those faults we did condemn,
Before our tongues have left to mention th
•
m.
For our negl
•
ct of God in
•
ormer times,
(Or for some present unrep
•
nted crimes)
A slumbering
Spirit
•
o p
•
ssesseth us,
That our estate is wondrous d
•
ngerous.
We s
•
e and hear, and tell to one anoth
•
r
Our perils, yet we headlong hast together
To willful ruin: and are grown so mad,
That when our friends a better course persuade,
Or seek to st
•
p us (when they s
•
e we run
That way in which we cannot ruin shun)
We persecute those men with all our soul,
That we may damn our s
•
lves without control.
The eight plain
Sign,
by which I understand
That some devouring mischief is at hand,
Is that maliciousness which I do see
Among
•
rsfessors
of one Faith, to be.
We that have b
•
t one
Father,
and one
Mother,
Do persecute, and torture one another.
So ho
•
lie, we oppose not
Antichrist,
As we our fellow brethren do resist.
The
Protestant,
the
Protestant
defies;
And, we ourselves, ourselves do scandalize.
Our
Church
we have exposed to more scorn;
And her fai
•
e seamlesse
Vestment
rent, and torn,
By our own fury, more then by their spite
Who are to us directly opposite.
To save an Aple, we the Tree destroy;
And, quarrels make for every needless toy:
From us, if any brother differ shall
But in a crotcher, we upon him fall
As eagerly, and with as bitter hate▪
As if we knew him for a
Reprobate.
And, what event all this doth signify,
Saint
Paul
(by way of caveat) do
•
h imply.
Take heed
(s
•
ith he)
lest while ye bite
•
ach other,
You, o
•
yourselves, consumed be
•
ogether.
Another
S
•
gne
which cau
•
eth me to fear
That our confusion is approaching near,
Are those
Disunions
whi
•
h I have espide,
In
Church
and
Commonwealth,
this pr
•
sent tide.
We cannot hide th
•
se rents; for they do gape,
So wide, that some their Iaw
•
s can hardly scape.
Would God, the way to close them up we knew,
Else, what they threaten, time will shortly show:
For, all men know, a
City
or a
Land,
Within it self d
•
vided, ca
•
n
•
t stand▪
The last black
sign
that here I will repeat,
(Which doth to kingdoms desolation threat)
Is when the hand of God Almighty brings
The pe
•
ple, into bondage, to their Kin
•
s.
I say, when their own
K
•
ng
shall take delight,
Those whom he should protect, to rob, and smite.
When they who fed the Sheep▪ the Sheep shall kill,
And eat them; and suppose they do no ill.
When God gives up a Nation unto those
That are their neighbors, that they may, as foes,
Devoure them. When (oh
England!)
thou shalt see
This come to pa
•
se, a sign it is to thee
That God is angry; and a certain token
That into pieces thou shalt quite be broken:
I
•
not by so ra
•
ne strength, by force at home;
A
•
d, that thy greater torment will become.
This
Vengeance,
and this fearful preparation,
Of bringing ruin on a sinful N
•
tion,
(If they remain impenitent) the Lord
Doth menace; and, by
Zacharias
•
ecord,
To make us wise. Oh! let us therefore learn▪
What now is coming on us, to discern.
For, (well considered if all thing
•
were)
From this
Captivity
we seem not far.
It now already seem
•
to be proj
•
ct
•
d;
Nay, little wants of being quite effected.
For, they that are our
Sheph
••
rds,
now, are they
That fleece us, and endeavor to betray
Our lives and freedoms. Those g
•
eat men that be
Our nei
•
hbours (and can claim no more then we)
Would sell us: and, att
•
mpt to gain a power,
Whe
•
eby they may, at pleasure, us d
•
voure:
And, h
•
d not we a King, as loath to make
His people slaves, as from hims
•
lfe to take
His lawful right; (or, were there not some lett
Vnheeded, which is unremov
•
d yet)
E're this (and justly too) the hand of heaven
Into perpetual bondage us had given.
And, if we do not more God's will regard,
That mischief is but for a time defer'd,
Our
King
is just and merciful; and th
•
Some may (with loyal, and a gilded s
•
ow
Of pious equity) a while
•
ssay
To lead his judgment in his youth astray;
Yet, God (I hope) will keep him so, that he
Shall still be just, (though we ungodly be)
And, make him in the fitteft hour express
His royal
Judgment,
and his
Right
•
ousnesse
:
But, if God should from us (as God forbid)
Take him, as once he good
Josiah
did,
He also will (unless we mend) perchance,
In times to come, a
Shepherd
here advance,
Who shall not plead for what his
Youngmen
say
Is just; but, take the same, perforce, away.
An Ido
•
l
Shep
•
eard,
who shall neither care
To find or seek, for those that strayed are;
Nor guard the
Lamb
•
; nor cure what hath a wound;
Nor cherish those that fi
•
me to him are found;
But, take the fat, and rob them of their fleeces;
And eat their flesh; and b
•
eak their bones in pieces.
More
Signs
I migh
•
, as yet, commemorate,
To show God's
pa
••
ence
is nig
•
out of date.
But, these are signs enough▪ an
•
so apparent,
That twenty more w
•
ll give no better warrant
To what I speak. Yet, if these
••
lse appear,
That's one sign more, our
fall
approacheth near.
Be mind
•
ull, therefore, while it is
to Day
;
And, let no good occasion slip away.
Now rend your hearts, ye
Britain's,
wash & rinse them
From all corruption: from all evil cleanse them.
Go offer up the pleasing sacrifice
Of
Righ
•
eousnesse
: from folly turn your eyes.
Seek peace, and follow it, with strict pursuit:
Relieve the needy; Judgment execute:
Refresh the weary; right the fatherless:
The strangers, and the widows wants redress:
Give praise to God; depend with lowly faith,
O
•
him; and what his holy
Spirit
saith:
R
•
member what a price thy ransom cost;
And, now redeem the time that thou hast lost.
Return, ret
••
ne thou (oh backsliding Nation)
And, let thy tears prevent thy desolation.
As yet, thou mayest return; for, God's embrace
Is open
•
or thee, if thou hast the grace,
To give it meeting▪ Yet, repentance may
Prevent the mischiefs of that evil day,
Which here is menace'd: yet, thou mayest have peace,
And by dis
•
reet endeavo
•
ing, enc
•
ease
Each outward grace, and every inward thing▪
W
•
i
•
h will additions to thy comfo
•
t bring.
If this thou do; these fea
•
full threatenings all,
(Repea
•
ed h
•
re) to mercies change he shall.
We cannot say, it will excuse thee f
•
om
All cha
••
isement; or that no blow shall come.
For, peradv
•
nt
•
re, thou so long hast been
Vnpe
•
i
•
ent, that some
loud-cring sin
Hath wak'd that
V
•
ngeance,
which upon thy crimes
Mu
•
t fall (as once in
Ier
•
mi
•
hs
〈◊〉
)
Without pr
•
vention; to ex
•
mplifie
God's hate of sin to all posterity.
But, sure we are, that if he doth not stay
H
••
threa
•
ned hand, the stroke that he doth lay
Will fall the lighter; and become a bl
•
ssing,
Thy future joys, and virtues more encreafing▪
Then all that large
•
prosperity and rest
Which thou, so long tog
•
there, hast possessed.
God (wi
•
h a
wr
•
ters
••
ke horn)
one hath sent,
To set a
mark
on th
•
m that shall repent;
And bids him promi
•
e in his
N
•
me,
that they
Who shall (recantin
•
) leave their evil way,
And in th
•
ir heart
•
, bewail the grievous crimes,
And misery
•
of
Zion,
in their times;
That they shall be secure, and s
••
ed
•
rom
The hand of these
D
•
stroye
•
s
▪ which must come:
Or else by their dest
•
ucti
•
n find a way
To that repairing which will ne
•
re d
•
cay.
Yea thou, oh
Britain!
if thou couldst reform
Thy manners, mightest expel the dreadful storm
Now threatened; and thy foes (who triumph would,
The ruin of thy glory to behold▪
And jeer thee when thou fallest) soon s
•
all see
Thy God returning, and avenging thee
On their insultings: yea, with angry blows
He would effect their shameful overth
•
owes.
Or turn their hearts. For when from sin men cease,
God makes their enemies, and them, at peace.
Moreover, thou shalt have in thy poss
•
ssing,
Each inward grace▪ and every ou
•
ward blessing;
Thy fruit
•
ull
H
•
rds
shall in
•
ich pastures feed;
Thy soil shall plenteously increase thy seed;
Thy Flock, shall neither Shepherds want nor meat;
Cleane provander, thy stabled beast shall
•
at
•
;
There shall be Rivers in thy Dales; and Fountaines
Upon the tops of all thy noblest Moun
•
aines:
The
Moon
shall cast upon thee beams as bright
As now the
Sun
; and with a sevenfold l
•
ght
The
Sun
shall bl
•
sse thee▪ He that reigns in thee,
To all his p
•
ople reconciled shall be;
And they shall find themselves no whit deceived,
In those good hopes which are of him conceived:
But he, (and they, wh
•
shall his throne possess
When he is gone) shall reign in righteousness;
And be more careful of thy weal (by far)
Then parents of their children's p
•
ofits are
Thy
Magistra
•
e
•
,
with wisdom shall proceed
In all that shall be cou
•
ell'd or decreed.
As
Harbours,
w
•
en it blows tempestuously;
As
Rivers,
unto places over-d
•
y;
As
Shadows
a
•
e to men oppressed with heat;
As to a hungry stomac
•
, wholesome
•
meat;
To thee, so welcome
•
, and as much con
•
enting,
Thy
Nobles
will become, on thy repenting.
Thy
Priests
shall preach true doctrine in thy
Teples
;
And make it fruitful by their good examples.
Thy God, with righteousness shall them array,
And hear and answer them, when they do pray.
Thy eyes, that much are blinded, shall be clear;
Thy ea
•
es that yet are deafened, then shall hear;
Thy tongue, that s
•
anmers now, shall then sp
•
ak plain;
Thy heart shall perfect understanding gain;
The preaching of the
Gospel
shall increase;
Thy God shall make thy comforts and thy peace,
To flow as doth a River; they who plant,
The blessing of their labor shall not want;
Thy poorest people shall at full be fed;
The meek, shall of no ty
•
a
•
t stand in dread;
Thou shalt have grace and knowledge, to avoid
Those things, whereby thy r
•
st may be annoid;
T
•
ou shalt poss
•
sse thy wished bl
•
ssings all;
And, God shall hear thee still before thou call.
But, as a
Chime,
wh
•
se
•
rets disord red grow,
Can never cause it self in t
•
ne to go,
Nor chime at all, until some cunning hand
Doth make the same again in order stand:
Or, as the
Clock,
whose plummers are not weight,
Strike
•
sometimes one for three, and six for eight;
So fareth it with men and kingdoms all,
When once from their integrity they fall.
They may their
motion
•
urry out of frame,
But have no power to r
•
ctifie the same
That curious hand which first those pieces wrought,
Must mend them still; or they will still be naught.
To thee I therefore now my speech convert,
Thou famous
Artist,
who Creator art
Of heaven and ea
•
th, and of those goodly
spheres,
That now have whirled many thousand years,
(And shall until thy pleasure
•
ives it ending)
In their perpetual
motion,
without mending.
Oh! be thou pleased, by thy pow'rfull hand,
To set in order this depraved
Land.
Our whole
foundation, Lord,
is out of course;
And everything still groweth worse and wor
•
e;
The way that leads quite from thee, we have took;
Thy
Covenant,
and all thy
Laws
are b
•
oke;
In mischiefs, and in folly, is our pleasure;
Our crying sins have almost filled their measure;
Yet, every day we add a new transgressi
•
n,
And still abuse thy favor and compassion.
Our
Governors,
our
Prelates,
and our
Nobles,
Have by their sins increase, encreast our trou
•
les.
Our
Priests,
and all the
People,
have misgone;
All kind of evil deeds, we all have done.
We have not lived as those means of
•
race
Require, which thou hast gra
•
ted to this place:
But
•
ather woe
•
se then many who have had
Less
•
helps then we, of being better made.
No Nation under heaven so lewd hath been,
That had so m
•
ny w
•
rnings for their sin,
And such perpetual
callings
on, as we,
To leave our wickedness, and turn to thee.
Yet, we instead of turning, further went;
And when thy
Mercies
and thy
Plagues
were sent
To pull us back; they seldom wrought our stay,
Or moved to repentance one whole day.
No blessing▪ no affliction, hath a power
To move compunction i
•
us, for one hour,
Unless thou work it. All that I can speak
(And all that I have spoken) till thou break
And mollify the heart, will fruitless be,
Not only in my hearers, but in me.
I
•
thou p
•
epare not way for more esteem
All these
Remembrances
will foolish seem.
Nay these, instead of moving to repent,
Will indignation move and discontent;
Which will men's ha
•
dned hearts obdurate more,
And make their fault much greater then before.
Unless thou give a
•
lessing, I may strive
As well to make a marble stone alive,
As to effect my p
•
rpo
•
e: yea, all this
Like wholesome counsel to a mad man is,
And, I for my good meaning shall be torn
In pieces, or exposed be to scorn.
•
or, they against thy word do stop their ear;
And, wild in disobedience, will not hear.
In this, we all confess ourselves to blame,
And that we therefore have deserved shame.
Yea, Lord we do acknowledge, that for this
There noth
•
ng else to us pertaining is,
(Respecting our own worth) but desolation,
And final
•
ooting ou
•
, without compassion.
But gracious God, though such our merit be,
Yet,
•
ercy f
•
ll pertaineth unto thee.
To thee the act of pard'ning and forgiving,
As much belongs (oh Father everliving)
As plagues to us: and it were better far
Our sins had less then their deservings are,
Then that thy Clemency should be outgone,
By all
•
the wickedness that can be done.
As well as theirs whose lives now left them have,
Thou ca
•
st command those bodies from the gr
•
ve,
Who slink, and putrefy, and buried be
In their corruption. Such, oh Lord! are we.
Oh! call us from this grave; and show thy power
Upon this much polluted
Land
of our,
Which is not only sick of works unholy,
But almost dead and buried in her folly.
Forgive us all our slips, our negl
•
gences,
Our sins of knowledge, and our ignorances;
Our daring wickedness; our bl
•
ody crimes;
And all the faults of past and p
•
esent times.
Permit not thy just wrath to burn for
•
ver;
In thy displeasure do not still persevere;
But, call us from that pit of
Death,
and
Sin,
And from that path of Hell which we are in.
Remember, that this
Vineyard
hath a
Vine,
Which had her planting by that hand of thine.
Remember, when from
Egypt
thou remov'dst it,
With what entire affection, then, thou lov'dst it.
How thou didst weed and dress it heretofore;
How thou didst fence it from the forest Bore;
And think▪ how sweet a vintage then it brought,
When thy first work upon her thou hadst wrought▪
Remember, that without thy daily care,
The choicest plants, soon wild and fruitless are;
And, that as long as thou dost prune and dress,
The sourest
Vine
sh
•
ll bring a sweet
•
ncrease.
R
•
member, also
Lord,
how still that
Foe,
W
••
fi
•
st pu
•
sued us▪ doth seek to sow
His
•
ares among thy wheat; and to his power,
B
•
eak down
•
thy fence, and trample, and devour
The seeds of grace, as soon as they do sprout;
And is to
•
strong, for us to keep him out.
O
•
! let not him prevail, such harm to do us,
As he desires, but, Lord, re
•
urne unto us.
Return in mer
•
y. Though thou find us slack
To come ourselves, f
•
tch, draw, and pull us back
From our own courses, by thy grace divine,
And set, and keep us, in each way of thine.
We from our foes have saved been by thee;
And in thy love, oh Lord! triumphed we.
But now behold, disgraced thou throw'st us by,
And we before our adversaries fly.
A
•
us our neighb
•
ring Nations laugh and jeer,
And, us they
•
co
•
ne, whom late we made to fear.
Oh God a
•
ise, reject us not for aye;
No longer hide from us thy face away:
But, come, oh come with speed to give u
•
aid,
And let us not be lost though we have straid.
Vouchsafe that everyone in his degree,
The secret errors of his life may see;
And, in his l
•
wfull calling▪ all his days,
Pe
•
form his Christian duty, to thy praise▪
Give peace this troublous age; for, perilous
The times are grown, and no man fights for us
But thou oh God! nor do we seek or crave,
That any other
Champion
we may have.
Nay give us troubles, if thy will be
•
o,
That we may have thy strength to bear them too;
And in affliction thee more glorify,
Then heretofore in our prosperity.
For when thy countenance on us did shine,
Those Lands th
•
t boasted of their corn and wìne,
Had not that joy which thou di
•
st then inspire,
When we were boyld and fryde in blood and fire.
Oh! give again that joy, although it cost us
Our lives. Restore thou what our sin hath lost us
Thy
Church,
in these Dominions Lord preserve
In purity: and teach us thee to serve
•
n holiness and righteousness, until
We shall the number of our days fulfill.
Defend these
Kingdoms
from all overthrows,
•
y foreign enemies, or home-bred foes.
Our
King
with ev'
•
y grace and virtue bless,
Which may thine honor and his own increase.
Inflame our
Nobl
•
s
with mo
•
e love and zeal,
To thy true
Spouse,
and to this
Common w
•
ale.
Inspire our
•
lergie
in their several places,
With knowledge, and all sanct
••
ying g
•
aces;
That by their liv
•
s and doct
•
ines they may rear
Th
•
se part
•
of
Zion,
which decayed are.
Awake
•
his
Peo
•
le,
give them souls that may
Believe thy word, and thy commands obey.
The
Plagues
deserved already, save them from.
More wa
•
ch
•
ull make them, in all times to come.
For blessings past. let hearty thanks be given.
For present ones, let sacrifice to heaven
Be daily offered up. For what is needing
(Or may be useful in the time succeeding)
Let faithful prayers to thy throne be sent,
With hearts and
•
ands upright and innocent:
And let all this the better fu
•
thread be,
Through these
Rem
•
mbrances,
now b
•
ough
•
by me.
For which high favor▪ and emboldning thus
My spirit, in a time so dangerous;
For choosing me, that am so despi
•
able,
To be employed in this honorable
And great employment▪ (which I more
•
steeme,
Then to be crowned with a
Diadem
)
For thy enabling me in this
Embassage
;
For bringing to conclusion this my
Message
;
For sparing of my l
•
fe, when thousands died,
Before, behind me, and on every side;
For saving of me m
•
ny a time since then,
When I had fo
•
feited my soul agen;
For all those griefs and poverties, by which
I am in better things made great, and rich,
Then all that wealth and honor brings man to,
Wherewith the woe
•
ld doth keep so much ado:
For all which thou to me on earth hast given;
For all, w
•
i
•
h doth concern my hopes of heaven;
For these, and those innumerable graces,
Vouchsafed me, at sundry times, and places,
(Vn
•
hought upon) unsained praise I render:
And, for a living s
•
crifice, I tender
To thee (oh God) my body, soul, and all,
Which mine I may, by thy donation, call.
Accept it blessed
Maker,
for his sake
Who did
•
his offering acceptable m
•
ke,
By giving up himself. Oh! look thou no
•
Upon those blem
•
shes which I have got
By natural corruption; or by those
Polluted acts which f
•
om that ulcer flows.
According to my
•
kill, I have enroll'd
Thy
Merci
•
s
; and thy
Justice
I have told.
I have not h
•
d thy workings in my breast;
But a
•
I could, their power I have expressed.
Among our great assemblies, to declare
Thy will and pleasure, loe, I do not f
•
a
•
e:
And th
•
ugh by Princes I am checked and blamed▪
To sp
•
ache
•
he truth, I am no whit ashamed.
Oh!
•
hew thou, Lord, thy mercy so to me,
And l
•
t thy
•
ove and Truth, my guardians be.
Forgive me all the foll
•
es of my youth;
My f
•
ul
•
y deeds; the errors of my mo
•
th;
The wanderings o
•
my he
•
t, and everyone
Of those good works that I have lest undone.
Forgive me all wherein I did amiss,
Since thou
•
mployd'st me in performing this:
My
d
•
ublings
of thy calling
•
e unto it;
My
f
•
are
•
,
which oft di
•
heartened me to do it;
My
sloth,
my
negligences,
my
evasions,
And my defe
•
ring it, on vain occasions,
When I had vowed that no woe
•
ke of mine,
Should take me up, till I had finished thine.
Lord, pardon this; and let no future sin,
Nor what already hath committed been,
Profane this
W
•
rke
; or cause the same to be
The less effectual to this land, or me.
But to myself (oh Lord) and others, let it
So moving be, that we may never fo
•
get it.
Let nor the evil, nor the good effect
It takes, or puff me up, or me deject:
Or make me think that I the better am,
Because I tell how others a
•
e to bl
•
ame:
But, let it keep me in a Christian fear,
Still humbly heedful what my actions are.
Let all those
observations
I have had,
Of others er
•
or
•
, be occasions made
To min
•
me of mine own. And, lest I err,
Let every man be my
Remembrancer
;
With so much charity, as I have sought
To b
•
ing their duties more into their thought.
And, i
•
in any sin I linger long▪
Without repentance; Lord, let every tongue
That n
•
m
•
s me, check me for it: and, to me
B
•
come, what I to
•
thers fain would be.
Oh! let me not be like those busy
broomes,
Which having cleansed many nasty rooms,
Do make themselves the fouller: but sweet
Father,
Let me be like the preci
•
us
Diamond
rather,
Which doth by polishing another stone,
The better shape and luster, set upon
H
•
s own rou
•
h body. Let my life be such,
As that man's ought to be, who knoweth much
Of thy good pleasure. And, most awful God,
Let none of though
•
e, who sp
•
ead of me abroad
Unjust reports, the Dev
•
lls pu
•
pose gain,
By making these my warning
•
prove in vain
To those that hear them: but let such disgraces,
Reflect with shame, upon their Authors fac
•
s,
Till they reap
•
t. And let their scandal se
•
ve
Within my he
•
t true
me
•
k
••
sse
to preserve;
And that
humili
•
y,
which else, perchance,
Vain glory,
ot some natural arrogance
Might ove
•
throw, if I should think upon
(With carnal thoughts) some good my lines have done
Restrai
•
e, moreover, them who out of pride,
Or igno
•
ance, this Labor shall deride.
Make them perceive, who shall prefer a story
Composed
•
or some temporal friends glory,
Before those Poems which thy works declare,
That vain and witless their opinions a
•
e:
And if by thee I was appointed, Lord,
Thy
Judgments
and thy
Mercies
to record,
(As here I do) set thou thy mark on those,
Who shall despitefully the same oppose:
And let it p
••
likely be seen of all,
Till of their malice they repent them shall.
As I my conscience have disch
•
rged here,
Without concealing ought for love, or fear;
From furious men let me preserved be,
And from the scorn of
•
ooles deliver me▪
Vouchsafe at length some come
•
orting refection,
According to the years of my affliction.
On me, for good, some
to
•
en
please to show,
That they who see it, may thy bounty know;
Rejoice, with fellow-fe
•
ling of the s
•
me,
And join with me, in praising of thy
Name.
And lest (oh Lord!) some weak ones may despise
My word
•
, because of
•
uch necessities,
As they h
•
ve b
•
ou
•
ht upon me, by their spite,
Who
•
o my
S
•
udie
h
•
ve been opposite:
Oh! give me that which may suffic
•
ent be,
To make them know that I have served thee.
And that my labors are by thee regarded,
Although they seem not outwardly rewarded.
Those
Honors,
or that
Wealth,
I do not crave,
Which they affect, who most end
•
vored have
To please the
World.
I only ask to gain
But
food
and
raiment,
Lord, for all my pain;
And that the
•
launders, and the poverties,
Wherewith my patience thou shalt exercise,
Make not these
Lines,
or me, become a scorn,
Nor leave me to the world-ward, quite forlorn.
Yet, in preferring of this humble
Suit,
I make not my request so absolute,
As that I will capitula
•
e, or tie
•
o such conditions, thy d
•
ead
Majesty.
For, if to honor bu
•
an eart
•
lie
Prince
My
Muse
had sung▪ it had been impudence
To p
•
ompt his bounty; or, to doubt he might
Forget to do my honest Labors right.
Do therefore as thou pleasest: only give
Thy
Servant
grace contentedly to live,
And to be
•
hankfull, wha
•
soever shall
In thi
•
my weary
Pil
•
rimage
befall.
Such thing
•
thou dost command me to require,
With earnest, and an absolute desire:
With which I come: beseeching I may find
Thy love continue, though none else be kind;
That blessedness ete
•
nall I may get,
Though all I lose on earth, to compass it;
And that, at last, when my accompt is even,
My payment may be summoned up in heaven.
Lord,
this will p
•
ease me: call me quickly thithe
•
,
And pay me there my wages all together:
Not that which mine by merit seems to be;
But, what by thy mere
•
race
is due to me.
The Conclusion.
SO now (though not so fally as I
••
ght)
My
Vow
is paid; and to an end is brought
T
•
is work, for which God pleased my life to spare,
Whe
•
thousand
•
round about me slaughtred were.
N
•
w, live or die I care rot: for I see
But little useful
•
esse, or need of me.
Because no
•
e knows what God may call him to;
I will not say precisely what I will do:
But, in
•
his kind of
muzing,
to endeavor,
Or he employed again, I purpose never.
For, if this
•
rofit not, it will be vain
For me to strike upon this st
•
in
•
again▪
If these do not prevail, I shall suppose,
Words
are not wanting here so much as
blows
▪
And that the filthy will be filthy s
•
ill,
Till th
•
y the measure of their sin f
•
lfill:
Or, that God will
•
to f
•
ee us from pollution,
Put some
•••
sall
Plague
in execution.
Whi
••
•
o prevent, to him I will humbly pray,
And, whilst I live, ende
•
vor what I may
My
Cou
•
t
•
ies
welfare; se
•
king means to find,
To spen
•
for her avail, my days behind;
And lab
•
ring so, my
Talent
to employ,
That I may come in
•
o my
Masters
joy.
And, though (when all is done which I am able)
My service will be but unprofitable:
Yet, still I will be doing, that, wh
•
n he
Shall come, I be not idle found to be.
If any blame what is or shall be done;
My Conscience k
•
oweth I would injure none;
And that I do not meddle further, than
Becommeth me that am a priva
•
e man,
Though otherwise it seem to those who weigh not
Wh
•
n private men may spe
•
ke, and when th
•
y may not.
The buildin
•
of a Town we do preserre
Unto the
Mason
and the
Carpenter;
But, when it is on fire, we care no
•
who
Doth come to quench it, so the same he do.
And, though
•
in settled times, the
Statutes
awe
The ruder sort, sometime there's
Martial Law.
It is true indeed, that ordinary times,
And those that are but ordinary crimes,
May by the Commo
•
Justice
be amended,
And should
•
not be by others repre
•
ended;
Except it be in terms, respecting all
States▪ persons, times, and sin in g
•
nerall.
Yet (as King
David
says)
If overthrown
Foundations be
; what then amiss i
•
done,
By honest men, if God to sh
•
w our fall,
Shall some, in extraordinary, call?
We now have those that neither stand in awe
Of ordinary
Magistrate,
or
Law.
Nay,
Law
is made a mockage, and a scorn,
And, they who have appointed been, and sworn
To j
•
dge us by
•
he
Laws,
deny their power,
Except, when they may serv
•
them to devour.
We now have sinners, who are got above
The reach of men appoin
•
ed to reprove
In ordinary course. Yea, sins have we,
Which brook not, touched, or mentioned to be:
No not so much as prayed against, through fear
Of
•
ngring those that their well willers
•
re.
And, this
•
reat impudency daily grows
So str
•
ng that all our freedom
•
we shall lose,
And Natures Laws e're long will all be brok
•
n,
If none shou
•
d speak; and therefore I have spok
•
n.
And
•
f for this I may not live as fr
•
e
As I was borne (and as I ought to be)
I hope to die, do malice what it can,
An ho
•
est and a constant
Englishman,
Whose fall shall be no ble
•
ish to his Name;
But, in
•
am
•
to those, who caus
•
d the same.
But, s
•
ffer this (will
Politicians
dream)
An
•
, such a president will hearten them
To libellize, who wanting grace, and re
•
son,
D
•
vulge t
•
eir sharp-fang'd
Poems
out of season:
And they who Write for nothing but to show
Their spleens, or that the world may come to know
Their
Facul
•
y,
men's persons m
•
y abuse,
And brave it thus, their boldness to excuse.
But, wh
•
t is this to me? (If others will
Because I have done well, be doing ill)
Let them and those, whom thereby they offend,
About that matter, by themselves contend.
It is fit for so
•
er men their swo
•
ds to wear,
Altho
•
gh by drunkard th
•
y abus
•
d are.
Which freedom I▪ have claim
•
d, and used you see;
And from the claim will never bea
•
en be.
In every
Work
▪ some passage will d
•
scover
To k
•
ow
•
ng men, what was the ch
•
ef
•
st mo
•
ver:
Which
•
hey who have the Spirit of d
•
scerning,
Should mark; for, tis a matte worth the learning.
And, when they find an
Autho
•
should be shent,
Let him receive his worthy chastisement.
But, when his pains deserveth a rew
•
rd,
Affl
•
ct him not, though him you naught regard.
A
Libeller
is impudently bold,
When he hath
Times,
or
Patrons
to uphold
His biting
Straines
; and soon is he descry'd;
For
•
e, to strike all faults, is t
•
rrifi'd:
And fears what perils may his act attend,
If none
•
e knows save
God
to be his
Friend.
But, they who have my mind, will be so far
From fear to write, although you do not spare
To punish me, that they will write the more;
Make up the sum that
•
anteth on my score;
And, reprehensions forth so loud will thunder,
That at your follies time
•
to come will wonder.
For,
outward hopes, have not my tongue unloo
•
'd,
Nor can my mouth by outw
•
rd fears be closed.
What I have done is done: and I am
•
as
•
d,
And
•
lad, how ever others will be pleased.
Let t
•
em who shall p
•
ruse it, praise, or lau
•
h,
Revile or s
••
ffe, or threat, or swear, or chase,
All's one to me
; So I within be still,
Without me, let men keep what noise they will,
For, sure I am, though th
•
y my flesh confound,
The soul, I seek to save, shall still be sound▪
And this I know, that nor the br
•
t
•
sh rages
Of
•
his
•
ow p
•
esent, or succeeding
Ages,
Shall root this
Poem
out; but, that to all
Ensuing times, the same continue shall,
To be perused in this Land, as long
As here they sh
•
ll retain the
English
tongue:
Or, while there shall be
Errors,
and
offenses,
Disorders, Discords, Plagues,
or
Pestilences.
And, if our evils we depar
•
not from,
Before the d
•
y of our destruction come,
This
Book
shall to the times that follow show,
What sin
•
they were which caus
•
d our overthrow:
And testify to others (for their learnin
•
)
That
Vengeance
did not seize us without warning.
If they who know the state of this our Land,
Can justly say that her
Affaires
do stand
In such a
posture
as was ordinary;
Or, th
•
t these Times the face d
•
e seem to carry
Which t
•
ey have had: or, if th
•
y see not here,
More wants, more doubts, and ter
•
ors, then therewere:
Or, if
•
his
Message
(whatsoever succedeth)
Be more (or more insisted on) t
•
en needeth:
Or, if it giveth any just suspicion
That thence may spring o
•
casions of
sedition;
Nay if th
•
t
•
ll my Rea
••
rs may not g
•
there
Good mot
•
ves thence, to
〈◊〉
•
edition,
rather▪
And such like me
•
nes of r
•••
ifying that
Which is, or may be har
•
full to the
State:
Let me be strictly ques
••
on
•
d, an
•
blamed,
And conf
•
r'd too; as one
•
hat hath defamed
Or inj
•
red his
Country.
Or, if they
Who sh
•
ll per
•
se this
Book,
can truly say,
That I have caused this
REMEMBRANCER
To spe
•
ke l
•
ke every v
•
lgar
Messenger;
If any c
•
rcumstance ca
•
prove, I bend
My purposes to woe
•
ke my private end;
Or, that I persons scandalize, o
•
fl
•
tter;
Or that I in the manner, or the matter,
Resembl
•
s
•
ch a
Pamphl
•
ter,
as fears
The losing of his lib
•
rties, or ears:
O
•
, that I speak
•
like them who railing come,
They neither
••
re at what, nor yet at whom,
So they may rail; Or, if I have not sh
•
wed
My
Messages
from such a
Spirit
flowed,
As is well known unto him, and whereby
He can def
•
nd them, with good warrantly:
If these, or ought like th
•
se things may be said,
(To prove the part of an
Impostor
plaid)
Let him who thinks he can unmask me, strive
To do it, and as he shall do, b
•
leeve.
But if they find (which doubtless they shall find)
Who view this
Poem
with a single mind)
That I have here delivered thing
•
exceeding
My me
•
ne▪ of knowledge, or my he
•
ps of breeding,
So far, as that my Readers cannot choose
B
•
t know some power divine d
•
d them infuse:
If they shall find, by my confessions h
•
re,
That I am subject to the self same fear
Which others feel; and yet have dare
•
more
In some respects, then others heretofore:
If they
•
erceive, that I did oft desire
Thro
•
gh frailty, from this action to retire;
A
•
d, that I had a supernat
•••
ll
W
•
ll,
My natural
Desi
•
es
resisting st
•
ll,
An
•
forcing me, even in my own despite,
That
•
atter of this Volume to en
•
ite:
If they perceive, as well per
•
eiue they may,
That I had ma
•
y lets within my way,
So cumbersome, as made the
•
ork a
•
peare
Scarce possible▪ to him that w
•
lling were;
And, how God made such hindrances become
More helpful at the last, then troubl
•
some.
If they observe, how wh
•
n my fortunes all
At hazard lay (and were to stand or fall
According to their wills, who may, with me,
For this, if God forbid not a
•••
y be)
That I, though many did the same condemn,
Did (this to finish) quite give ever them,
Which then I might have settled; had I thought
God's kingdom ought not first to have been sought.
If they did know how we
•
l I know the rage,
The sottishness, and malice of this age;
How little conscience some do make to kill,
Oppresse, or ruinate, to get their will;
Or what small means, or hope of friends I have,
My body from their violence to save:
If these, and such like things as these were heeded,
All these preventions should not now have needed:
For, they would see, this had not been effected,
Unless God's hand had strengthened and directed▪
And they who else my person may contemn,
Would fear, that they in me would injure him.
I know, some please to say, that thus I vent
Bold words; because I seek imprisonment:
As if to me thereby there might arise
A profit, by concealed
G
•
atuities.
Thus many
Schismatics
indeed have done,
And honest men and women prey'd upon,
To charities abuse: But, God doth know
That yet, with me it never hath been so:
But that my heart both scor
•
es and h
•
tes to be
So false and base, as these d
•
e
•
ensure me.
I do, and will confess unto the praise
Of him, who unto me my friends did raise,
That when I did, in thrall oppressed grow,
With wants, which none but G
•
d and I did know;
And was mew'd up so close, that to no friend,
I might a Prayer, or Petitio
•
send,
But unto God: he moved the hearts of some
To se
•
d me su
•
cour: And, I vow, to whom,
Except to him, I should my thanks repay,
(For much there
•
f) I know not to thi
•
day.
It was enough to show me, that God will
In all extremes, provide things nee
•
full s
•
ill.
And decently, and well did it suffice
In my restraint, for all nec
•
ssities.
But, what soe're some think, I brought not forth
Into the world with we, one farthing worth
Above my charge: but, there just even made
Of all which from God's bounteous hand I had.
For, what was more then served to set me free,
I gave to others, as he gave to me.
Which, not in boast, I mention; but, I speak
The truth, that this the more effect may take.
A foo
••
sh
policy
in me it were
(For such a base uncertain
•
y as here
Objected is) to venture as I do
The
••
sse of th
•
t which I had rea
•
ht unto
F
•
re now: had this been left, to settle that
Which doth concern my
•
emp
•
rall estate.
The
King
hath shown me favor: at this hour,
I do not know that
•
an, of
Name,
or power
Whose person I envy, or disaffect,
Or whom of any malice I suspe
•
t
To me o
•
mine: with me they all are friends,
That w
•
re at odds; and to attain my ends
In my
•
ff
•
ires,
I never had a day
So probable as now, if I would stay
This
Message:
and perchance, this bring me shall
In all my outward ho
•
es unto a fall;
Yet, this shall first be told, that you may see,
My
Hopes
are greater, then my
Feares
can be;
And that it may be known, I d
•
e disclaim
Those ends, at which most think I basely aim.
These
Arguments,
as such like words as may
Anticipate, I here, beforehand, say;
Not that I think it possible, by them
To change their minds that will this
Book
contemn,
For, tis not in the power of
Argument,
Or words, to make the willful provident.
It lieth not in honest prot
•
stations
To overthrow malicious combinations;
No nor in
Miracles,
till God shall please
(Who of all hearts doth keep the locks and keys,
To shut and open them▪) For they that heard
And lived to see fulfilled, what was declared
By
Jeremiah
against
Jerusalem;
His counsel they did nathelesse contemn,
When he their slight to
Egypt
did oppose;
And so became of their own overthrows
The willful cause. Nay, when our
Savior
spake
To
Judas,
and that
Band
which came to take
His person; to the ground those men he struck
Even with his voice: and, on the Cross, he shook
The
Ea
•
th,
and rent the
Temple
with his cry;
Yet, that and all the rest was passed by
Of most beholders, a if they had been
Vnsensible of what was heard and seen.
I therefore, these
Preventions
do insert,
To aggravate the hardness of their heart
Who shall be obstinate. And here declare
What may be said or done, e're done they are;
That all may know, when such things come to pass
Nought falls on me, but what expected was;
And that the better working this may have
On those who shall God's
Messages
receive
•
y this
Remembrancer.
For, God hath sent,
Though I (unworthy) am his instrument.
Him, unadvisedly composed I not,
Nor was he by a miracle begot.
To fit him for this purpose; I have thrice
Imprisonment
endured:
Close-prison
twice.
Much trouble I have past which thence ensu'd;
Through wants and slanders not a few I s
•
ru'd;
And, being guarded by God's
Providence,
I lately walked through the
Pestilen
•
e,
And saw, and felt, what
Nature
doth abhor,
To harden me, and to prepare me for
This
Work.
And therefore he, who thinks he shall
Wit
•
his big looks or speeches me appall,
Must look more grim then Death; more ugly, far,
Then Vizards, or the shapes of Devils are;
Breathe ranker poison then a plague filled grave;
And stamp, and roar, and tear, and stare, and rave,
More dreadfully, and louder then a man
Infected with six
Pestilences
can:
Else; I (to play with terrors being borne)
Shall laugh both him and all he doth, to scorn.
And, though I may, perchance (as did the best
Of all
•
ods children when they were oppressed)
Sometime bewail my sufferings, or declare
That I do feel them when their weight I bear;
Yet murmur will I not, at what is laid
Upon me, neither seek to flesh for aid.
By what's here done, may trouble come upon me;
But, not performing it, had quite undone me:
Since, I through fear of what the world may do,
Neglected had, what God had called me to.
For, of his calling me, the,
means
and
ways
Wh
•
reby my weakness he to this did raise,
Vnquestionable evidence do give.
And, they who do not, yet, the same believe,
Will think the same, perhaps, when they shall see
Themselves enclosed with new
Plagues
to be.
Thus I believing, a
•
d considering,
What fearlesnesse this act therewith doth bring,
(With what assurances, I do possess)
Me thinks it were a matchless wickedness
To disobey. Yea sure, I more in that
Wrong'd God, then I shall seem to wrong the State▪
In uttring what some few are loath to hear.
How ever divers think; this is my fear.
Yea, to my soul, so horrible a thing
The willful disobeying that great
King
Appeared hath; that, n
•
ver should I sleep
In peace again, if I did silence keep.
And therefore, neither all the royal graces
Of
Kings;
nor gifts, nor honorable places,
Should stop my mouth. Nor would I smother this,
Though twenty
Kings
had sworn that I should kis
•
e
The Gallows for it: lest my
Conscience
should
Torment me more, then all men living could.
Yea, though this
mind
were but my ignorance,
Or fancy (as it will be thought, perchance)
Yet, since this
Fancy
may present to me
As hideous fears, as things that real be,
I will hazard rather twenty deaths to die,
Then to be tortured by my
Fantasie.
For, I had rather in a dungeon dwell
Five years; then in my soul to feel a hell
Five minutes: and, so God will be my friend,
I shall not care how many I offend.
And, yet, (now I remember) troubled is
My heart a little, for one thing amiss
Which I have done. This
M
•
ssenger
hath been
Long time kept out; and I did thrust him in
Without a
Licence;
lest he coming late,
Might show you a
Commission
out of date.
I could excuse the fact, and lay the crime
Upon the much disorder of the time:
For, most men know, that in a Watch or Clock
•
When it is out of order once or broke,
The wheels that are unfaul
••
e move awry
As well as they in whom the faults do lie.
But, that you may not think I do profess
Against the State, as wholly merciless,
Or that I think it nothing to misdoe
Against good
Order,
though compelld th
••
eto;
For this I ask forgiveness; and submit
My self to them, who shall in judgment sit
Upon the fact. For which if I obtain
My
Pardon,
I shall humbly entertain
Their favors with my thankefullest respects,
And, hope this
Message
will have good effects.
If otherwise I find; my Body shall
Be ready to subject it self to all
Their strictest
Penalties
: and when I am
Enough affl
•
cted for what is to blame
In this, or me: I know, God will release
By Body, or my Soul, again in peace.
To him alone, for
Patronage,
I run:
Lord, let thy
pleasure,
and thy
will
be done.
The glory be to God.
THe faults escaped in the printing, we had not such means to prevent as we desired; nor could we conveniently collect them, by reason of our hast, of hazard, and other interruptions: we therefore leave them to be amended, censured, and winked at, according to the Readers courtesy or discretion.