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distance from splendid, though worthless gallants, mean while
trampling upon, and crushing under foot the obscure, but most
precious servants of God in the world. As little do they heed
these moft excellent persons, as I did this precious herb.

Summa ingenia in occulto sæpe latent, faith Plautus.
Rare wits, and herbs, sometimes do sculk and shrink
In fuch blind holes, as one would little think.

For my own part, I desire to tread upon no man with the foot of contempt and pride, much less upon any good man ; and that I may not, it concerns me to look before I step; I mean, to consider before I censure: had I done fo by this rare herb, I had never hurt it.


Upon a withered poly taken up in the way. Inding in my, walk, a posy of once sweet and fragrant,

but now dry and withered flowers, which I suppose to be thrown away by one that had formerly worn it: thus, said I, doth the unfaithful world use its friends, when providence hath blasted and witbered them ; whilft they are rich and honourable, they will put them into their bosoms, 'as the owner of this posy did, whilst it was fresh and fragrant, and as eafily throw them away as useless and worthless things, when thus they come to be withered. Such usage as this * Petronius long fince complained of.

6 Are they in honour ? Then we smile like friends ; « And with their fortunes all our friendship ends."

But this loose and deceitful friend stinks so odiously in the very noftrils of nature, that at heathen poet severely taxes and condemns it as most unworthy of a man.

“ 'Tis bafe to change with fortune, and deny « A faithful friend, because in poverty."

And is this indeed the friendship of the world ? Doth it thus use them whom once it honoured ? Then, Lord ! let me never feek its friendship. O let me elteem the smiles and honours of men less, and thy love and favour more ! thy love is indeed unchangeable, being pure, free, and built upon nothing that is * Gum fortuna manet vultum feruatis amici, Cum cecidit turpi vertitis ora fuga.

Petronius, + Turpe sequi cafum, et fortune cédero, amicum

Et nifi fit foelix et eflnegare saum.

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mutable ; thou never serveft thy friends as the world doth its darlings.


Upon the sudden withering of a rose.
Eing with my friend in a garden, we gathered each of us

a rose; he handled his tenderly, smelled to it but seldom, and sparingly; I always kept it to my nose, or squeezed it in my hand, whereby in a very short time it loft both colour and fweatness, but his still remained as sweet and fragrant as if it had been growing upon its own root. These roses, said I, are the true emblems of the best and sweetest creature-enjoyments in the world, which being moderately and cautiously used and enjoyed, may for a long time yield sweetness to the poffeffor of them; but if once the affection seize too greedily upon them, and squeeze them too hard, they quickly wither in our hands, and we lose the comfort of them, and that either thro’the foul's surfeiting upon them, or the Lord's righteous and juft removal of them, because of the excess of our affections to them ; earthly comforts, like pictures, fhew best at a due diftance. It was therefore a good faying of * Homer, 'Avège Ehvodoxw, &c.

“ I like him not, who at the rate

“ Of all his might doth love or hate.”. It is a point of excellent wisdom to keep the golden bridle of moderation upon all the affections we exercise

upon earthly things, and never to flip those reins, unless when they move towards God, in whose love there is no danger of excess.

Upon the sudden withering of beautiful flowers.
OW fresh and orient did these flowers lately appear, when


all their pride and glory, breathing out their delicious odours, which perfumed the air round about them, but now are withered and shrivelled up, and have neither any desireable beauty or favour in them.

So vain a thing is the admired beauty of creatures, which so captivates the hearts, and exercises a pleasing tyranny over

* Mihi nunquam is placet hofpes
qui valde preterque modum odit vel amat,




the affections of vain mán, yet it is as fuddenly blafted as the
beauty of a flower #:

« How frail is beauty! In how short a time
“ It fades, like roses, which have past their prime.
“ So wrinkled age, the faireft face will plow,
« And cast deep furrows on the smoothest brow.
“ Then where's that lovely tempting face? Alas!
“ Yourselves would blush to view it in a glass.”

If then thou delightest in beauty, O my soul! chufe that which is lasting. There is a beauty which never fades, even the beauty of holiness upon the inner man ; this abides fresh and orient for ever, and sparkles gloriously, when thy face (the feat of natural beauty) is become an abhorrent and loathsome {pectacle. Holiness enamels and sprinkles over the face of the foul with a beauty, upon which Christ himself is enamoured; even imperfect holiness on earth is a rose that breathes sweetly in the bad ; in heaven it will be full-blown, and abide in its prime to all eternity.


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Upon the tenderness of some choice flowers.
Ow much care is neceffary to preserve the life of some

flowers ! they must be boxed up in the winter, others must be covered with glasses in their springing up, the finest and richest mould must be fifted about the roots, and affidiously watered, and all this little enough, and sometimes too litde to preferve them ; whilst other common, and worthless flowers, grow



help of ours : Yea, we have no less to do to rid our gardens of them, than we have to make the former grow there. .

Thus stands the case with our hearts, in reference to the motions of grace and fin. Holy thoughts of God must be assiduoufly watered by prayer, earched up by meditation, and defendod by watchfulness ; and yet all this is sometimes too little to preserve them alive in our souls. Alas! the heart is a foil that



+ Forma bonum fragile eft, quantumque accedit ad annos,
Fit minor, et fpatio carpitur ipfo fuo.
Nec femper violae, nec femper lilia florent,
Et riget amis 1 spini relicta rosa
Tempus erit quo vos Speculum vidisse pigebit,
Jam veniunt rugæ quæ tibi corpus arent, &c. Ovid, de Art.


agrees not with them, they are tender things, and a smalt matter will nip and kill them. To this purpose is the complaint of the divine Poet.

Who would have thought a joy

[o coy

To be offended fo,

and go

So suddenly away?
Hereafter I had need

take heed.
Joys among other things

Have wings,
And watch their opportunities of flight,
Converting in a moment, day to night.

HERBERT. But vain thoughts, and unholy suggestions, these spread themselves, and root deep in the heart; they naturally agree with the soil : So that it is almost impoffible, at any time, te be rid of them. It is hard to forget, what is our fin to remember.



Upon the strange means of preserving the life of vegetables.

Obferve that plants and herbs are sometimes killed by


thrive : They are sometimes drowned with water, and yet without water they cannot fubsist: They are refreshed and cheared by the heat of the sun', and yet that sun sometimes kills and scorches them up. Thus lives


soul : Troubles and afflictions seem to kill all its comforts; and yet without these, its comforts could not live. The sun-blasts of prosperity fometimes refresh

those sun-blasts are the likeliest

to wither me: By what seeming contradictions is the life of
my spirit preserved ! what a mystery, what a paradox is the
life of a Christian ?
Welcome, my health, this fickness makes me well.

Med'cines adieu.
When with diseafes I have list to dwell,

I'll wish for you.
Welcome, my strength, this weakness makes me able.

Powers adieu.

When I am weary grown of standing stable;
I'll with for

Welcome, my wealth, this loss hath gain'd me more.

Riches adieu.
When I again grow greedy to be poor,
I'll wish for

Welcome, my credit, this disgrace is glory.

Honours adieu.
When for renown and fame I shall be sorrya

I'll wish for you.
Welcome content, this forrow is my joy.

Pleasures adieu.
When I desire such griefs as may apnoy,

I'll with for you.

Health, strength, and riches, credit and content,
Are spared best sometimes when they are spent.
Sickness and weakness, lofs, disgrace and sorrow,
Lend most sometimes, when most they seem to borrow.

And if by these contrary and improbable ways the Lord preserves our souls in life, no marvel then we find such strange and seemingly contradictory motions of our hearts, under the various dealings of God with us, and are still restless, in what condition foever he puts us ; which restless frame was excel lently expressed in that pious epigram of the reverend Gataker, made a little before hïs death.

I thirst for thirstiness, I weep for tears,

Well pleas'd I am to be displeased thus :
The only thing I fear, is want of fears,

Suspecting I am not suspicious.
I cannot chuse but live, because I die;

And when I am not dead, how glad am I?
Yet when I am thus glad for sense of pain,

And careful am, left I fould careless be ;
Then do I grieve for being glad again,

And fear, lest carefulness take care for
Amidst these restless thoughts this reft I find,
For those that rest not here, there's reft behind.

Jam tetigi portum, valete.


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