XCVI.

It is not possible, but a conceited man must be a fool: for, that overweening opinion, he hath of himself, excludes all opportunity of purchasing knowledge. Let a vessel be once full of never so base liquor, it will not give room to the costliest; but spills beside whatsoever is infused. The proud man, though he be empty of good substance, yet is full of conceit. Many men had proved wise, if they had not so thought themselves. I am empty enough, to receive knowledge enough. Let me think myself but so bare as I am; and more I need not. O Lord, do thou teach me how little, how nothing I have; and give me no more, than I know I want.

XCVII.

Every man hath his turn of sorrow; whereby, some more, some less, all men are in their times miserable. I never yet could meet with the man, that complained not of somewhat. Before sorrow come, I will prepare for it: when it is come, I will welcome it: when it goes, I will take but half a farewell of it; as still expecting his return.

XCVIII.

There be three things that follow an injury, so far as it concerneth ourselves; (for, as the offence toucheth God, it is above our reach ;) revenge, censure, satisfaction: which must be remitted of the merciful man. Yet not all at all times: but revenge always, leaving it to him that can and will do it; censure, ofttimes; satisfaction, sometimes. He, that deceives me oft, though I must forgive him; yet charity binds me not, not to censure him for untrusty: and he, that hath endamaged me much, cannot plead breach of charity, in my seeking his restitution. I will so remit wrongs, as I may not encourage others to offer them; and so retain them, as I may not induce God to retain mine to him.

XCIX.

Garments, that have once one rent in them, are subject to be torn on every nail and every brier; and glasses, that are once cracked, are soon broken: such is a man's good name, once tainted with just reproach. Next to the approbation of God and the testimony of mine own conscience, I will seek for a good reputation with men: not, by close carriage, concealing faults, that they may not be known, to my shame; but avoiding all vices, that I may not deserve it. The efficacy of the agent, is in the patient well disposed. It is hard for me ever to do good, unless I be reputed good.

C.

Many vegetable and many brute creatures exceed man in length of age which hath opened the mouths of heathen philosophers, to accuse nature, as a step-mother to man; who hath given him the least time to live, that only could make use of his time in getting knowledge. But herein religion doth most magnify God, in his wisdom and justice; teaching us, that other creatures live long, and perish to nothing: only man recompenses the shortness of his life, with eternity after it; that the sooner he dies well, the sooner he comes to perfection of knowledge, which he might in vain seek below; the sooner he dies ill, the less hurt he doth with his knowledge. There is great reason then, why man should live long; greater, why he should die early. I will never blame God, for making me too soon happy; for changing my ignorance, for knowledge; my corruption, for immortality; my infirmities, for perfection Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.

THE SECOND CENTURY

OF

MEDITATIONS AND VOWS;

DIVINE AND MORAL.

TO THE RIGHT VIRTUOUS AND WORSHIPFUL LADY,

THE LADY DRURY,

ALL INCREASE OF GRACE.

Madam -I know your Christian ingenuity such, that you will not grudge others the communication of this your private right: which yet I durst not have presumed to adventure, if I feared, that either the benefit of it would be less, or the acceptation. Now it shall be no less yours only, it shall be more known to be yours. Vouchsafe therefore to take part with your worthy husband, of these my simple Meditations. And, if your long and gracious experience have written you a larger volume of wholesome laws, and better informed you by precepts fetched from your own feeling, than I can hope for, by my bare speculation: yet, where these my not unlikely rules shall accord with yours, let your redoubled assent allow them, and they confirm it. I made them not for the Eye; but for the Heart: neither do I commend them to your Reading, but your Practice: wherein also it shall not be enough, that you are a mere and ordinary agent, but that you be a pattern propounded unto others' imitation. So shall your virtuous and holy progress, besides your own peace and happiness, be my crown and rejoicing, in the day of our common appearance.

Halsted, December 4.

Your Ladyship's humbly devoted,

JOSEPH HALL.

MEDITATIONS AND VOWS.

CENTURY II.

I.

A MAN, under God's affliction, is like a bird in a net; the more he striveth, the more he is entangled. God's decree cannot be eluded with impatience. What I cannot avoid, I will learn to bear.

II.

I find that all worldly things require a long labour, in getting; and afford a short pleasure, in enjoying them. I will not care much, for what I have; nothing, for what I have not.

III.

I see natural bodies forsake their own place and condition, for the preservation of the whole: but, of all other creatures, man; and, of all other men, Christians, have the least interest in themselves. I will live, as given to others; lent only, to myself.

IV.

That, which is said of the elephant, that being guilty of his deformity, he cannot abide to look on his own face in the water, but seeks for troubled and muddy channels; we see well moralized, in men of evil conscience, who know their souls are so filthy, that they dare not so much as view them; but shift off all checks of their former iniquity, with vain excuses of good-fellowship. Whence it is, that every small reprehension so galls them: because it calls the eyes of the soul home to itself, and makes them see a glimpse of what they would not. So have I seen a foolish and timorous patient, which, knowing his wound very deep, would not endure the chirurgeon to search it whereon what can ensue, but a festering of the part, and a danger of the whole body? So I have seen many prodigal wasters run so far in books, that they cannot abide to hear of reckoning. It hath been an old and true proverb, "Oft and even reckonings make long friends.". I will oft sum up my estate with God; that I may know what I have to expect, and answer for. Neither shall my score run on so long with God,

that I shall not know my debts, or fear an audit, or despair of payment.

V.

I account this body, nothing, but a close prison to my soul; and the earth a larger prison to my body. I may not break prison, till I be loosed by death: but I will leave it, not unwillingly, when I am loosed.

VI.

The common fears of the world are causeless, and ill-placed. No man fears to do ill: every man to suffer ill: wherein, if we consider it well, we shall find that we fear our best friends. For my part, I have learned more of God and myself, in one week's extremity, than all my whole life's prosperity had taught me afore. And, in reason and common experience, prosperity usually makes us forget our death; adversity, on the other side, makes us neglect our life. Now, if we measure both of these by their effects, forgetfulness of death makes us secure; neglect of this life makes us careful of a better. So much, therefore, as neglect of life is better than forgetfulness of death, and watchfulness better than security; so much more beneficial will I esteem adversity, than prosperity.

VII.

Even grief itself is pleasant to the remembrance, when it is once past as joy is, while it is present; I will not, therefore, in my conceit, make any so great difference betwixt joy and grief: since grief past is joyful; and long expectation of joy is grievous.

VIII.

Every sickness is a little death. I will be content to die oft, that I may die once well.

IX.

Ofttimes those things, which have been sweet in opinion, have proved bitter in experience. I will, therefore, ever suspend my resolute judgment, until the trial and event: in the mean while, I will fear the worst, and hope the best.

X.

In all divine and moral good things, I would fain keep that I have, and get that I want. I do not more loath all other covetousness, than I affect this. In all these things alone, I profess never to have enough. If I may encrease them, therefore, either by labouring, or begging, or usury, I shall leave no means unattempted.