places it hath raged with such fury, as if it meant to extirpate all mankind; so many thousands of people having died, that whole towns and countries have remained desert. The evil hath been many times so great, that fathers forsook their children, and women their husbands; riches did not preserve them from dying of hunger; if they found by chance what to eat, the fury of the distemper was such, as they often died with the morsel in their mouths. To all this, is human life subject. Let those, therefore, who are in health and jollity, fear what may befall them.

Famine is no less a misery of man's life, than pestilence, which not only particular persons, but whole provinces, have often suffered; many times people, when they had nothing left them to eat, have fed on horses, dogs, cats, rats, dormice, and other vermin, when they could lay hold on them; and when those failed, ate one another; nay, fathers spared not their sons, nor women those whom they brought forth; and many would willingly have pawned their bowels, to have had wherewith to feed them. What a horrid prospect is it, to see a company of people appearing in the streets more like unto ghosts and phantoms than living men! others stretched upon the ground half dead, and ready to draw the last gasp! What pity is it to behold thousands of women, feeble, pale, and hunger-starved, charged with a great number of their poor languishing infants, which, dried up with hunger, could not so much as weep, or demand succour from their sorrowful and afflicted mothers; who could only help them with their compassionate looks, of which rivers of tears, which ran from their eyes, were a sufficient witness! This is a lamentable scene of a most miserable tragedy! All those miseries which fall not under imagination, are found in the life of

man.

Greater than all these calamities is that of war, which, of the three scourges of God, wherewith he uses to chastise kingdoms, is the most terrible; as well because it is commonly followed by the other two, as for that it brings along with it greater punishments; and which is worse, greater sins, whereof plagues are free, in which all endeavour to be reconciled with God; and even those who are in health, dispose themselves for death. Famine also, though it brings with it some sins, yet it lessens others; though it be accompanied

with many thefts, yet it suits not so much with pride and vanity; neither doth it permit so many sorts of vices as are occasioned by war.

Above all, the greatest calamities of man's life are not pestilence, famine, or war, but human passions not subordinate to reason: what did David suffer from the envy of Saul? exile, hunger, dangers, and war. Naboth sooner lost his life by the covetousness of Ahab, than he could have done by a plague. Elias was more afflicted with the desire of revenge in Jezebel, than if he had had the pestilence; for that made him weary of his life, and this would but have made him weary of his disease. What plagues or wars were like the ambition of Herod, which destroyed so many thousand children? What contagion was more mortal than the cruelty of Nero and other tyrants, who took away the lives of so many innocent people, to satisfy their fears or fancies?

Who is so happy to content all, and be envied of none? Who is so esteemed that some do not despise him? Who is so general a well-doer, that nobody complains of him? The Athenians found fault with their Simonides, because he talked too loud. The Thebans accused Panniculus, that he spit too much. The Carthaginians spake ill of Hannibal, because he went open-breasted, with his stomach bare. Others laughed at Julius Cæsar, because he was ill girt. There is none so upright, in whom envy will not find something to reprehend.

So many are the miseries of life, that they cannot all be numbered. Death, which is thought by some the greatest of evils, is, by many, esteemed a lesser evil than life; the many evils in this, surpassing the greatness of the evil in that and, therefore, some have conceived it is better to suffer the greatest, which is death, than to suffer so many, though lesser, which are in life: for this reason, one calls death the last and greatest physician, because, though in itself it be the greatest evil, yet it cures all others; and, therefore, prescribes the hopes of it, as an efficacious remedy and comfort in the afflictions of life.

What security can there be in life, when the earth, which is the mother of the living, is unfaithful to them, and sprouts out miseries and deaths, even of whole cities? What can be secure in the world, if the world itself be not, and the most

solid parts of it shake? If that which is only immoveable and fixed for to sustain the living, tremble with earthquakes; if what is proper to the earth, which is to be firm, be unstable and betray us; where shall our fears find a refuge? When the roof of the house shakes, we may fly into the fields; but when the earth shakes, whither shall we go?

In the time of the plague we may change places; but from the whole earth who can fly? and so from dangers: and, therefore, not to have a remedy, may secure us as a comfort in our evils; for fear is foolish without hope. Reason banishes fear in those who are wise, and in those who are not. Despair of remedy gives a kind of security, at least takes away fear. He that will fear nothing, let him think all things are to be feared. See what slight things endanger us; even those which sustain life, lay ambushes for us. Meat and drink, without which we cannot live, take away our lives. It is not wisdom, therefore, to fear swallowing by an earthquake, and not to fear the falling of a tile. In death, all sorts of dyings are equal. What imports it, whether one single stone kills thee, or a whole mountain oppress thee? Death consists in the soul's leaving of the body, which often happens by slight accidents.

Wonderful are the ways by which death finds us out, and most poor and contemptible those things, upon which life depends; it hangs not upon a thread, but sometimes upon so small a thing as a hair. No door is shut to death; it enters where the air cannot enter, and encounters us in the very, action of life. Small things are able to deprive us of so great a good! A little grain of a grape took away the life of Anacreon. The affections of the soul, and the pleasures of the body, become the highway unto death. Homer died of grief, and Sophocles of an excess of joy; Dionysius was killed with the good news of a victory, which he had obtained; Aurelianus died dancing; Cornelius Gallus, and Titus Etherius, died in the act of lust.

Let no man assure himself of that life, which hath so many entrances for death. Let no man say, 'I shall not die to-day;' for many have thought so, and yet suddenly died that very hour. By so inconsiderable things, as we have said, have many died; and thou mayest die without any of them; for sudden death, there is no need of a hair, or excess

of grief, or sudden joy to surprise thee: it may happen without any of those exterior causes. A corrupt humour in the entrails, which flies unto the heart without any body's perceiving it, is sufficient to make an end of thee; and it is to be admired that no more die suddenly, considering the disorders of our life, and the frailties of our bodies. We are not of iron or brass, but of soft and delicate flesh. A clock, though of hard metal, in time wears out, and every hour needs mending; and breaking of one wheel stops the motions of all the rest. There is more artifice in a human body than in a clock; and it is much more delicate; the nerves are not of steel, nor the veins of brass, nor the entrails of iron. How many have had their livers or spleens corrupted or displaced, and have died suddenly! No man sees what he hath within his body; and such may his infirmity be, although he thinks and feels himself well, yet he may die within an hour. Let us all tremble at what may happen!

But Christians, in all the miseries and dangers of human life, have great comforts to lay hold on; which are, a good conscience, hope of glory, conformity unto the Divine will, and the imitation and example of Jesus Christ. From these four he shall in life have happiness, in death security, in both comfort, and in eternity a reward.

If

We may draw from what hath been said, how unjust was the complaint of Theophrastus, that nature hath given a longer life unto many birds and beasts, than unto man. our life were less troublesome, he had some reason; but it being so fraught with miseries, he might rather think that life the happiest, which was shortest; wherefore it is better to die young, and die well, than to die old, and die ill. This voyage being of necessity, the felicity of it consists not in being long, but being prosperous; and that, at the last, we arrive in the desired port. Therefore, supposing so many miseries, we cannot complain of God for having given us a short life, but of ourselves for having made it a bad one; our life being compassed with so many miseries, as that death seems rather a shelter for evils, than a punishment. God was pleased that it should be short, that the vexations and misfortunes of it, which cannot be counterpoised with any joys of the earth, might be more supportable. At least, if this life, with so many miseries, do not displease us; yet let

the eternal, with all its felicities, content us better; and let us not endeavour less for the immortal life in heaven, than we do for this mortal on earth. Let us keep always in mind the years of eternity; so whatsoever adversity or affliction happen, we shall more easily bear it. "For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glorya."

Therefore, if the world frown upon me; if I meet with many troubles and afflictions; if misfortunes befall me; if they rush upon me like waves, one on the neck of another; if I be tossed up and down; then these shall be my daily thoughts: Well, let the world have its course, I am content to bear it; God's will be done; let the sea be troubled, let the waves thereof roar, let the winds of afflictions blow, let the waters of sorrows rush upon me, let the darkness of grief and heaviness compass me about, yet will I not be afraid: these storms will blow over, these winds will be laid, these waves will fall, this tempest cannot last long, and these clouds shall be dispelled. Whatsoever I suffer here, shall shortly have an end; I shall not suffer eternally; come the worst that can come, death will put an end to all my sorrows and miseries; "Domine, da mihi modo patientiam, et postea indulgentiam; Lord, grant me patience here, and ease hereafter." I will suffer patiently whatsoever can happen, and shall endeavour to do nothing against my conscience, and displeasing unto thee; for all is safe and sure with him, who is certain and sure of blessed eternity.

CHAP. VI.

The End of Temporal Life.

If the end of life should fall under our election, and that it were in the power of man to make choice how many years he would continue in life, and after what manner he would have it, and that it might conclude some other way than by death; yet the consideration that it, and all things temporal, were to perish, and at last to have an end, were sufficient to

2. Cor. iv. 17.