They find the disease to steal
on insensibly, and endeavour to meet with it so.
X. MEDITATION.
This is nature’s nest of boxes:
the heavens contain the earth; the earth, cities;
cities, men. And all these are concentric; the
common centre to them all is decay, ruin; only that
is eccentric which was never made; only that place,
or garment rather, which we can imagine but not demonstrate.
That light, which is the very emanation of the light
of God, in which the saints shall dwell, with which
the saints shall be apparelled, only that bends not
to this centre, to ruin; that which was not made of
nothing is not threatened with this annihilation.
All other things are; even angels, even our souls;
they move upon the same poles, they bend to the same
centre; and if they were not made immortal by preservation,
their nature could not keep them from sinking to this
centre, annihilation. In all these (the frame
of the heavens, the states upon earth, and men in
them, comprehend all), those are the greatest mischiefs
which are least discerned; the most insensible in their
ways come to be the most sensible in their ends.
The heavens have had their dropsy, they drowned the
world; and they shall have their fever, and burn the
world. Of the dropsy, the flood, the world had
a foreknowledge one hundred and twenty years before
it came; and so some made provision against it, and
were saved; the fever shall break out in an instant
and consume all; the dropsy did no harm to the heavens
from whence it fell, it did not put out those lights,
it did not quench those heats; but the fever, the
fire, shall burn the furnace itself, annihilate those
heavens that breathe it out. Though the dogstar
have a pestilent breath, an infectious exhalation,
yet, because we know when it will rise, we clothe
ourselves, and we diet ourselves, and we shadow ourselves
to a sufficient prevention; but comets and blazing
stars, whose effects or significations no man
can interrupt or frustrate, no man foresaw: no
almanack tells us when a blazing star will break out,
the matter is carried up in secret; no astrologer
tells us when the effects will be accomplished, for
that is a secret of a higher sphere than the other;
and that which is most secret is most dangerous.
It is so also here in the societies of men, in states
and commonwealths. Twenty rebellious drums make
not so dangerous a noise as a few whisperers and secret
plotters in corners. The cannon doth not so much
hurt against a wall, as a mine under the wall; nor
a thousand enemies that threaten, so much as a few
that take an oath to say nothing. God knew many
heavy sins of the people, in the wilderness and after,
but still he charges them with that one, with murmuring,
murmuring in their hearts, secret disobediences, secret
répugnances against his declared will; and these
are the most deadly, the most pernicious. And
it is so too with the diseases of the body; and that
is my case. The pulse, the urine, the sweat, all
have sworn to say nothing, to give no indication of
any dangerous sickness. My forces are not enfeebled,
I find no decay in my strength; my provisions are
not cut off, I find no abhorring in mine appetite;
my counsels are not corrupted nor infatuated, I find
no false apprehensions to work upon mine understanding;
and yet they see that invisibly, and I feel that insensibly,
the disease prevails. The disease hath established
a kingdom, an empire in me, and will have certain arcana
imperii, secrets of state, by which it will proceed
and not be bound to declare them. But yet against
those secret conspiracies in the state, the magistrate
hath the rack; and against these insensible diseases
physicians have their examiners; and those these employ
now.
X. EXPOSTULATION.
My God, my God, I have been told,
and told by relation, by her own brother that did
it, by thy servant Nazianzen, that his sister in the
vehemency of her prayer, did use to threaten thee with
a holy importunity, with a pious impudency. I
dare not do so, O God; but as thy servant Augustine
wished that Adam had not sinned, therefore that Christ
might not have died, may I not to this one purpose
wish that if the serpent, before the temptation of
Eve, did go upright and speak, that he did so
still, because I should the sooner hear him if he spoke,
the sooner see him if he went upright? In his
curse I am cursed too; his creeping undoes me; for
howsoever he begin at the heel, and do but bruise
that, yet he, and death in him, is come into
our windows; into our eyes and ears, the
entrances and inlets of our soul. He works upon
us in secret and we do not discern him; and one great
work of his upon us is to make us so like himself as
to sin in secret, that others may not see us; but
his masterpiece is to make us sin in secret, so as
that we may not see ourselves sin. For the first,
the hiding of our sins from other men, he hath induced
that which was his offspring from the beginning, a
lie; for man is, in nature, yet in possession
of some such sparks of ingenuity and nobleness, as
that, but to disguise evil, he would not lie.
The body, the sin, is the serpent’s; and the
garment that covers it, the lie, is his too. These
are his, but the hiding of sin from ourselves is he
himself: when we have the sting of the serpent
in us, and do not sting ourselves, the venom of sin,
and no remorse for sin, then, as thy blessed Son said
of Judas, He is a devil; not that he had
one, but was one; so we are become devils to ourselves,
and we have not only a serpent in our bosom, but we
ourselves are to ourselves that serpent. How far
did thy servant David press upon thy pardon in that
petition, Cleanse thou me from secret sins?
Can any sin be secret? for a great part of our sins,
though, says thy prophet, we conceive them in the dark,
upon our bed, yet, says he, we do them in the light;
there are many sins which we glory in doing, and would
not do if nobody should know them. Thy blessed
servant Augustine confesses that he was ashamed of
his shamefacedness and tenderness of conscience, and
that he often belied himself with sins which he never
did, lest he should be unacceptable to his sinful
companions. But if we would conceal them (thy
prophet found such a desire, and such a practice in
some, when he said, Thou hast trusted in thy wickedness,
and thou hast said, None shall see me), yet
can we conceal them? Thou, O God, canst hear
of them by others: the voice of Abel’s
blood will tell thee of Cain’s murder; the
heavens themselves will tell thee. Heaven shall
reveal his iniquity; a small creature alone shall
do it, A bird of the air shall carry the voice,
and tell the matter; thou wilt trouble no
informer, thou thyself revealedst Adam’s sin
to thyself; and the manifestation of sin is so
full to thee, as that thou shalt reveal all to all;
Thou shalt bring every work to judgment, with every
secret thing; and there is nothing covered that
shall not be revealed. But, O my God, there
is another way of knowing my sins, which thou lovest
better than any of these; to know them by my confession.
As physic works, so it draws the peccant humour to
itself, that, when it is gathered together, the weight
of itself may carry that humour away; so thy Spirit
returns to my memory my former sins, that, being so
recollected, they may pour out themselves by confession.
When I kept silence, says thy servant David,
day and night thy hand was heavy upon me; but
when I said, I will confess my transgressions unto
the Lord, thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin.
Thou interpretest the very purpose of confession so
well, as that thou scarce leavest any new mercy for
the action itself. This mercy thou leavest, that
thou armest us thereupon against relapses into the
sins which we have confessed. And that mercy
which thy servant Augustine apprehends when he says
to thee, “Thou hast forgiven me those sins which
I have done, and those sins which only by thy grace
I have not done”: they were done in our
inclination to them, and even that inclination needs
thy mercy, and that mercy he calls a pardon.
And these are most truly secret sins, because they
were never done, and because no other man, nor I myself,
but only thou knowest, how many and how great sins
I have escaped by thy grace, which, without that,
I should have multiplied against thee.
X. PRAYER.
O eternal and most gracious God, who
as thy Son Christ Jesus, though he knew all things,
yet said he knew not the day of judgment, because he
knew it not so as that he might tell us; so though
thou knowest all my sins, yet thou knowest them not
to my comfort, except thou know them by my telling
them to thee. How shall I bring to thy knowledge,
by that way, those sins which I myself know not?
If I accuse myself of original sin, wilt thou ask
me if I know what original sin is? I know not
enough of it to satisfy others, but I know enough
to condemn myself, and to solicit thee. If I
confess to thee the sins of my youth, wilt thou ask
me if I know what those sins were? I know them
not so well as to name them all, nor am sure to live
hours enough to name them all (for I did them then
faster than I can speak them now, when every thing
that I did conduced to some sin), but I know them
so well as to know that nothing but thy mercy is so
infinite as they. If the naming of sins of thought,
word and deed, of sins of omission and of action, of
sins against thee, against my neighbour and against
myself, of sins unrepented and sins relapsed into
after repentance, of sins of ignorance and sins against
the testimony of my conscience, of sins against thy
commandments, sins against thy Son’s Prayer,
and sins against our own creed, of sins against the
laws of that church, and sins against the laws of that
state in which thou hast given me my station; if the
naming of these sins reach not home to all mine, I
know what will. O Lord, pardon me, me, all those
sins which thy Son Christ Jesus suffered for, who suffered
for all the sins of all the world; for there is no
sin amongst all those which had not been my sin, if
thou hadst not been my God, and antedated me a pardon
in thy preventing grace. And since sin, in the
nature of it, retains still so much of the author
of it that it is a serpent, insensibly insinuating
itself into my soul, let thy brazen serpent (the contemplation
of thy Son crucified for me) be evermore present to
me, for my recovery against the sting of the first
serpent; that so, as I have a Lion against a lion,
the Lion of the tribe of Judah against that lion that
seeks whom he may devour, so I may have a serpent against
a serpent, the wisdom of the serpent against the malice
of the serpent, and both against that lion and serpent,
forcible and subtle temptations, thy dove with thy
olive in thy ark, humility and peace and reconciliation
to thee, by the ordinances of thy church. Amen.