is no Tongue in Nature which can-furnish us with termes strong enough to expresse the miseries of Man that Man is of the race of the Gods yes surely since thy Gods are Gods of earth the cause is matcht to the effect for Man is of the same matter Plotinus thou also did'st not misse it when in favour of Man thou said'st he was an abridgement of the wonders of the world for since all it's wonders heretofore so famous are no more but dust and ashes Man may hereof be the example with good reason O how much more is expert David in the knowledge of our condition when he compares Man not onely to the Dust but to the Dust which flies away to show us that that little which he is still flies away till it be nothing in the end But how glad am I O Lord that I am but Dust to the end that I may flie towards heaven Memento homo quòd nihil es in nihilum reverteris for the earth I undervalew How I am satisfied that I am but Ashes that I may but be able to keepe in my soule some little sparkle of thy love What glory and what contentment too is it to be devoured by wormes since thou callest thy selfe a Worme gnaw O Lord gnaw both my heart and intrals Ego sum vermis non homo Psal 22.6 I offer thee them in prey and regive me new ones that may offend thee no more I know well that my life flits away by little and little but how agreeable is this flight unto me since thou art its object I see well that my Dayes slide away and passe in continuall course But O what consolation is it to be sensible of dying at all houres for to live eternally O Verities againe what ravishments have you to consolate the soules of the most afflicted I returne to my subject Humility is ever honoured by all the world Wee reade of the Priests of the Gentiles that they writ letters every yeere to their Gods upon the Ashes of the Sacrifices which they made upon the top of Mount Olympus and I beleeve that this was upon designe that they might thus be better received being written upon this paper of humility Let us fetch now some truth from this fancy All the parts of the body are as so many Characters of dust wherein may be read the truth of our nothingnesse Let us write every day to heaven upon the paper of our Ashes confessing that we are nothing else and let us make our sighs the faithfull messengers of these letters as the onely witnesses of our hearts I will hide my selfe under the Ashes O Lord to the end that thy Justice may not see me said David What Curtaine 's this This Soveraigne Justice which makes it bright day in hell cannot pierce the Ashes to find underneath a Sinner No Seest thou how Ahab humbleth himselfe I will not bring the evill in his dayes 1 Kings 21.29 no for this vaile has the vertue to reflect the beames of this revenging light within the source which produced them Remember that I am nothing O Lord and that thou hast made me of nothing Recordare quae so quòd sieut argillam feeisti me in pulveremreduces me Iob 10.9 and every moment canst reduce me to something lesse then nothing cryes out Iob in his miseries He finds no other invention to appease the mild choller of his God then putting him in mind of his infinite greatnesse and at the same time of the pitifull estate whereunto he is reduced Why should you take Armes against me O Lord pursues he when the breath of your word is able to undoe the same which it hath made me Humility triumphs over all things Remember O Remember that I am but what the benigne influence of your divine regards permits me to be for on the instant that you shall cease to regard me I shall cease to live Man remember thy beginning for thou art not made of Fire like the Starres nor of Ayre like the winds but of mire from whence it is thou soyl'st all the would Decke we then with Ashes our Body of Dust and let us cover with a new earth our owne to make Rampiers of proofe against the thunders of heaven See you not how its all-powerfull Justice finds limitation in the confession of our being nothing We need feare nothing acknowledging that we are nothing Well may the thunder make a horrid rumbling yet the Hyssope out-braves it in its lowlinesse He which can overcome himselfe shall never be vanquish't by a greater Captaine Feare and Humility ever abandon each others company The onely meanes to triumph over all things is to vanquish Ambition O Lord I durst scarce beleeve that I am if thy providence alone were not the Prop of my Being But since thy goodnesse hath drawne me from the Abysse of Nothing let thy grace cause me alwayes to keepe the remembrance of my originall Before Time was I was Nothing now Time is I am yet Nothing But what happinesse is it to be Nothing at all since thou art All-things for if I search my selfe in vaine in my selfe is it not sufficient that I am found in thee I will then forget even mine own name and muse of nothing but of the Chimera of my being since as a Chimera it passeth away and vanisheth The onely consolation What a joy is it to passe away continually with all things towards him that hath created all things that remaines me in my passage is that thou alone remainest firme and stable so that without end thou art the end of my carreere and without bounds limitest the extent of my course as the onely object both of my rest and felieity See me now upon returne With what and over to be adored lustre appeares the love of God in his day Heaven changes the sighs of the Earth into tears I meane its vapours into dew in the work of Man Would not one say that it seemes hee made him of earth that hee might strow thereon the seedes both of his blessings and graces O fortunate Earth which being diligently cultured may bring forth the fruits of eternall happinesse Boast thy selfe O Man to be Nothing but Earth Since we are of Earth let us suffer this divine Sun of Love to exhale the vapours of our siâ—hs for to meâ—amorphose them into the teares of Repentance since the heaven bedewes the Earth continually But if with a provoked eye it lancheth out sometimes its thunders upon it her selfe doth afford hereof the matter Live alwayes Innocent and thou shalt not know what 't is to feare Imploy thy selfe without cease to measure the depth of the Abysse of thy nothingnesse and though thou never pierce to the bottome hereof thy paines shall not be unprofitable because seeking thy selfe in thy basenesse thou shalt alwayes recover thy selfe againe much greater then thou art The Sunne this faire Planet
memoriall of a Chimera and of a fantosme since it preaches nothing else to us but the ruine and non-entity of that which hath beene other-while O how glorious a Triumph is it These things ruminated on will make us wise when wee our selves are encharioted over our passions now enslaved and subjected under the Empire of Reason There is nothing so glorious there is nothing so magnificent For these Dromedaries these Elephants these Bulls these Horses these Hermaphrodite Mares these Lyons Stags and Tygres afore-mentioned are but brute beasts which draw along in traine after them others as brutish as themselves as suffering themselves to be transported with vanitie which onely reduceth them to this beastly-semblant vanitie Let us turne our face to another side SABELLICUS in his ENNEADS actively perswades us to beleeve that the Christians of Aethiopia doe carry in their processions great vessels full of ashes Let the fire of Divine Love glow upon our ashes to emblematize apparently the frailty of our nature But may not wee say upon too much reason that wee are earthen vessels full of ashes and what object more sensibly can be presented before our eyes to shew us the truth of our miseries then this of our selves From Earth is our production and the same serves us with nourishment and for sepulture also as if ashamed the Sunne should afford his light to our wretchednesse Make we then every day Funerall processions or at least visit in meditation every houre our Tombeâ— as the place where our bodyes must make so long abode Celebrate we our selves our owne Funerals and invite to our exequies The thought of our end is a soveraigne remedie against our passions Ambition Avarice Pride Choller Luxurie Gluttony and all the other Passions wherewith we may be attainted to the end to be Conquerours even by our owne proper defeate For when a Man yeelds to the Meditation of Death then reason commands sense All obey to this apprehension of frailty and feeblenesse Pleasures by little and little abandon us the sweets of life seeme sowre and wee can find no other quiet but in the hope of that which Truth it selfe hath promised us after so much trouble Proud Spirits be ye Spectators of this Funerall Pompe which this great Monarch celebrates to day Hee invites the Heaven and the Earth to his Exequies since in their view hee accompanies his pourtrayed gkeleton unto the Tombe his Body conducts thither its shadow the originall the painted figure in attendance till a Metamorphosis be made both of one and t'other O glorious action where the Living takes a pride to appeare Dead as dying alreadie by his owne choice as well as necessitie O glorious action where the Triumpher takes a glory in the appearance of his overthrow O glorious action where all the honour depends upon the contempt of the worlds honour O glorious action where Garlands of Cypresse dispute the preheminence with Laurell and Palme O glorious action where the Conquerour under-going the Lawes of Nature elevates himselfe above it making his puissance to be admired in his voluntarie weakenesse But I engage my selfe too farre in 't Herodotus remarkes that the Queene Semiramis made her Sepulcher be erected upon the entrances of the principall Gate of the * Babylon Citie to the end that this sad object of wretchednesse might serve for Schoole-master to passengers to teach them the Art to know themselves O blessed Lesson is that no better Schoole then the Church-yard which the Tombes can affoord us O gracious Science is that which they instruct us Strabo testifies that the Persians made Pipes of dead-mens bones which they used at Festivals to the end that the sad harmonie which issued thence might temper the excesse of joy But may not we say our Lungs to be to us such kind of Whistles and that our dolorous sighs which produce thence the harmonie are capable to moderate the violence of our contentments A strange thing it is that all the animated objects which are affected by our senses beare the image of Death and yet wee never thinke but of Life Let our eyes but fairely turne their regards on all sides All that lives they may see dyes and what ha's no life passes away before ' em Our eares are tickled with the sweet harmonie of Voices or Instruments or Tabors or Trumpets But these sounds are but Organs spirited with blasts whose borrowed wind is lost when the motion ceaseth and there behold the Faile of their life And for Instruments 't is true they warble delightfully yet their melodie is often dolefull to the mind The object of our nothingnesse ha's a grace and allurement capable to ravish the best spirits when it considers that it proceedes from certaine guts of dead beasts which Art hath so contrived Tabors being of the same nature must also necessarily produce the same effects and Trumpets also doe but sobbe in our eares since their clangor is forced onely by the violence of a blast of sighs Our Taste cannot satiate the hunger of its appetite but with dead and breathlesse things and all our other senses are subject to the same necessitie Insomuch that Death environs us on all sides though we be alwayes her owne and yet wee never thinke on 't Death is ever present and at hand to our heart but still absent from our memorie but in extremities as if wee were onely to learne at the last instant that wee are Mortall and the hard experience which wee make on 't were the onely Lesson which by Nature is given us LORD render me capable if it please thee of this Science which may effectually teach me the Art to know my selfe to the end that this knowledge may represent to me alwayes the realitie of my wretchednesse Make me that I may see my selfe may understand and feele my selfe to dye every moment but so that I may see it with the eyes of my heart perceive it with the eyes of my soule and feele it by the sense of my conscience therein to finde my repose and safetie I know well that Nature mournes uncessantly the death of its workes which are devoured every houre by time and though no where thus can I see but Sadnesse it selfe yet ne'rethelesse remaine I insensible of the horrour of these objects and though they be terrible my spirit not affrighted Render me therefore if it please thee render me fearefull and make me even to tremble in thinking of it since the thought of it is so important and suffer me not to live a kind of Death without meditating of that life which is exempt from Death and whereof Eternitie is the Limit All my votes doe terminate at this and all my wishes which I addresse to thy bounty that I may one day see the effects of my hopes Let us advance on our first proposiâ—ion O how celebrious and glorious is the Triumph over our selves Let us leave the Laurels and Palmes to those famous
the window and thou shalt see carryed to the grave some not so old as thy selfe If thou relye upon the health which thou now enjoyest 't is but a false going-dyall The calme of a perfect health Saepe optimus status corpotis periculâ— susimuuuml s. hath oftentimes ushered the Tempest of a suddaine Death What hopest thou for Hip. hope is deceitfull what stayest thou soâ— Sera nimis Vita est crastina vive hodie A wise man ought never to defer till to morrow what should be done to day Lastly what desirest thou The peace of conscience is the only desirable good Goe on then right forward thou canst not misse the way which I have chalk't thee FINIS PERLECTORI The TRANSLATOVR'S COROLLARIE SO Now 't is done although it be no Taske That did much Braines or toylesome Study aske The meaning I ' vouch good but Merit small In rendring English the FRENCH PRINCIPALL It is but a Translation I confesse And yet the Rubs of Death in 't nerethelesse May trippe some cap'ring Fancies of the Time That Domineere and Swagger it in Rime That Charge upon the Reader and give Fire On all that doe not as they doe admire Either their rugged Satyrs cruell veine Or puffe-paste Notes 'bove Ela in high straine Then in prevention quarrell like a curst Scold who being guilty yet will call Whore first When any dyes whose Muse was rich in Verse They claime Succession and prophane his Herse They onely are Heires of his Braine-estate Others are base and illegitimate All but their owne Abettors they defie And LORD-it in their Wit-Supremacy Others they say but Sculke or lye i' th' lurch As we hold Schismaticks from the true Church So hold they all that doe decline their way Nor sweare by Heaven Al 's excellent they say T were well they 'd see the fing'ring on these frets Can neither save their Soules nor pay their Debts Or would they they thinke of Death as they should doe They would live better and more honourd too T is base to doe base deeds yet for false fame To Keepe a stirre and bustle into Name Whilst each applauds his owne contemnes an others Becons his owne deserts but his he smothers They feare Fame's out of breath and therefore they Trumpet their owne praises in their owne way Or ioyne in Tricke of Stale Confed'racy Cal'd Quid pro Quo Claw me and I le claw thee Marry at others Tooth and Naile they flye That do not tread their Path but would goe bye Farewell to these my ayme not here insists Leave we these wranglers unto equall lists To Nobler Natures I my brest expose The Good I bow to in an humble Cloze To such as knowing how vaine this Life is Exalt their thoughts to one better then This. 'T is the best Method to be out of Love With things below and thence to soare above To which effect my soules integrity In L'envoy thus salutes each courteous eye L'ENVOY INgenuous READER thou do'st crowne The Morall active course layd downe By De la SERRE what is pen'd If thy ACTIONS recommend Relating to the first EMBLEME WHen haughtie thoughts impuffe thee than Dictate thy selfe Thou art but Man A fabricke of commixed Dust That 's all the prop of humane trust How dares a Clod of mouldring Clay Be Proud decaying every day And yet there is away beside Wherein may be a lawfull Pride When sly Temptations stirre thee Than Againe the Word Thou art a Man Rouze up thy Spirits doe not yeeld A brave resistance winnes the Field Shall a soule of Heavenly breath Grovell so farre its worth beneath Fouly to bee pollute with slime Of any base and shamefull crime Thou art a Man for Heaven borne Reflect on Earth disdainefull scorne Bee not abus'd since Life is short Squander it not away in sport Nor hazard heavens eternall Joyes For a small spurt of wordly Toyes Doe Something ere thou doe bequeath To Wormes thy flesh to Aire thy breath Something that may when thou art dead With honour of thy name be read Something that may when thou art cold Thaw frozen Spirits when t is told Something that may the grave controule And shew thou hadst a noble Soule Doe something to advance thy blisse Both in the other World and This. Relating to the second EMBLEME WEre both the Indias treasures Thine And thou LORD of every Mine Or hadst thou all the golden Ore On Tagus or Factolus Shore And were thy Cabinet the Shrine Where thousand pearles and Diamonds shine All must be left and thou allowd A little linnen for thy Shrowd Or if 't were so thy Testament Perhaps a goodly Monument What better is a golden Chase Or Marble then a Charnell place Charon hence no advantage makes A halfe-penny a soule he takes Thy heires will leave thee but a Shirt Enough to hide thy rotten Dirt. Then bee not Greedy of much pelfe He that gets all may lose himselfe And Riches are of this Dilemme Or they leave us or we must them Death brings to Misers double Woe They loose their Cash and their soules too Change then thy scope to heavenly gaines That wealth eternally remaines Relatory to the third EMBLEME BE not curious to amaze With glitt'ring pompe the Vulgar gaze Strive not to cheat with vaine delight Those that are catcht with each brave sight How soone will any gawdy show Make their low Spirits overflow Whose Soules are ready to runne-ore At any Toy nere seene before Rather thy better thoughts apply For to addresse thy selfe to dye Bee ne're so glorious after all Thy latest pompe's thy Funerall Shall a dresse of Tyrian Dye Or Venice gold Embroyderie Or new-fash'on-varied Vest Tympanize thy out-strutting brest There 's none of these will hold thee tacke But thy last colour shall be Blacke Bee not deceiv'd There comes a Day Will sweepe thy Gloryes all away Meane while the thought on 't may abate Th' Excesses of thy present ' state Death never can that Man surprize That watches for 't with wary Eyes Doe Soe And thou shalt make thereby A Vertue of Necessitie And when thy Dying-day is come Goe like a Man that 's walking home Heav'n Guard thee with Angelicke pow'r To be prepared for that houre When ev'ry Soule shall feele what 'T is To have liv'd Well or done Amisse Relating to the fourth EMBLEME LEt not the Splendour of high Birth Bee all thy Glosse without true worth Let neither honour nor vast wealth Beautie nor Valour nor firme health Make thee beare up too high thy head All men alike are buried Stare not with Supercilious brow Poore folkes are Dast and so art Thou Triumph not in thy worldly Odds They dye like men whom we count Gods And in the Grave it is all one Who enjoy'd all or who had none Death cuts off all superfluous And makes the proudest One of us Nor shall there diffr'ence then betweene The dust of LORDS or slaves be seene Together under ground they lye
sayes hee which beat at the eares to enter into your hearts A Voyce which rustles in a moment and passes away at the same instant What Humility Is there any thing which is lesse any thing then a Voyce 'T is a puffe of wind which a fresh one carries I know not where since both lose themselves in the ayre after its ne're solittle agitation with their gentle violence 'T is nothing in effect yet notwithstanding the proper name of this great Prophet Christus verbum Iohannes vox They would elevate him and he abaseth himselfe so low that he would render himself invisible as a Voyce so much he feares to be taken for him whose shooe-latchet he judgeth himself unworthy to unloose Lord what are we also but a little Wind enclosed in a handfull of Earth to what can one compare us Iohn 1.27 A man is to bee estimated in proportion to the undervalue bee makes of himself without attributing us too much vanity True it is that we are the works of thy hands but all other created things beare the same Title but if thy bounty hath beene willing to advantage our nature with many graces proper and ordinated to it alone these are so many witnesses which convince us not to have deserv'd them since our very Ingratitude is yet a Recognizing of this Truth Insomuch that as our Life is nothing but sinne and sinne is a meere privation it may be maintained that wee are nothing else and consequently nothing at all The most just man sinneth seven times a day But how Proud am I O Lord every time I thinke thou hast created me of Earth for this is a Principall which drawes me alwayes to it selfe by a right of propriety from whence I cannot defend my selfe All things seeke their repose in their element What is 〈◊〉 for a man to trumph here of the noâ—â—d the earth expects his spoyle O how happy am I to search mine in that of Dust and Ashes whereof thou hast formed me The Earth demands my Earth and my body as a little Gullet separated from its source speeds by little and little to the same source from whence it had its beginning And this is that which impeaches me from gathering up my selfe to take a higher flight I should doe bravely to hoyse my selfe above my Center Pride hoyses up only to give a fall when the assay of my Vanity and the violence of my fall are but the same thing I give still downewards upon the side of my weakenesses and the weight of my miseries overbeares upon the arrogance of my Ambition O happy deffect A man no doubt may misknow himselfe yet the least hit of mishap teares the vaile of his hoodwink'tnesse and yet more happy the condition which holds me alwayes enchained to the dunghill of my Originall since the links of this easie servitude are so many Mirrours which represent me that I am nothing whensoever I imagine my selfe to be something Let us change our Tone without changing subject Ladyes Remember that you dye every houre behold here a MIRROVR WHICH FLATTERS NOT. It shewes you both what you are and such as you shall be But if notwithstanding you still admire your selves under an other visage full of allurements and sweets A strange thing that death is still as neare us as life and yet wee never thinke on 't This is but Death himselfe who hides him under these faire apparences to the end you may not discerne him It is true you have gracefull Tresses of haire which cover your heads and his is all Bald but doe not you heed how hee pulls them off from yours by little every day and makes those which he leaves you to turne White to the end you may pull them out your selves It is true your Eyes have a sparkling lustre and beauty but of his is seene onely the hideous place where Nature had seated them But doe you not consider how with continuall action hee Dusks the glory of this beauty and in conclusion puts to Eclipse these imaginary Pety-Suns It is true your hue is of Lillyes and your mouth of Roses upon his face is seene onely the stubs of these flowers but call to mind that he blasts this Lilly-teint Ci me and Death are the onely inexorables as well as Lillyes themselves and that the vermillion of this Rosie-mouth lasts but as Roses and if yet you differ to day from him in some thing you may resemble him to-morrow in all I leave you to meditate of these Truths Man is a true Mirrour which represents to the naturall all things which are oppos'd unto it If you turne it downward to the Earth Man is as one picture with two faces and often the most naturall is falsest we can see within nothing but objects of Dust and Ashes but if you turne him to the Heavens-ward there is to be admired in it beauties and graces purely celestiall In effect if we consider Man in his mortall and perishable condition hardly can one find any stay in this consideration since hee is nothing else but a Chimera whose forme every Moment by little and little destroyes to reduce it to its first nothing And indeed not to lye to ye Man is but a Puffe of Wind since he lives by nothing else Man is nothing in himselfe yet comprehends all things is filled with nothing else and dyes onely by Privation of it But if you turne the Medall I would say the Mirrour of his Soule towards his Creator there are seen nothing but Gifts of Immortality but graces of a Soveraigne bounty but favours of an absolute Will The heavens and the Stars appeare in this Crystalline Mirrour What though man be made of earth he is more divine than mortall not by reflection of the object but by a divine vertue proceeding from the Nature of his Cause Let us to the End The slumber of vanities is a mortall malady to the soule Me thinks This Page returnes againe to day within the Chamber of Philâ—â—â— of Macedon and drawing the Câ—â—â—taine cryes out according to his â—â—â—dinary Sir Awake and Remember that you are a Man but why rouzes hee him to thinke of Death since sleepe is its image Alexander knew himselfe mortall by his sleeping and in effect those which have said that sleepe was the Brother of Death have drawne their reason of it from their reciprocall resemblance Awake then Great Kings Not to ponder that you are mortall your sleepe is a trance of this but rather that you are created for immortality Remember you are Men. I will not say A man should not forget his heavenly beginning having heaven for a daily object subject to all the miseries of the Earth but rather capable of all the felicities of heaven Remember that you are Men. I will not say the shittlecocke of Time and the But to all the shafts of Fortune but rather victors over ages and all sorts
wonders of our dayes but now you are the horrour of this present for the onely thought of the dung-heap of your Ashes poysons my spirit so delicate i' st and I leave farther provocation to the incredulous if they bee willing to bee stronger witnesses of it but let us now leave personall reflections and trouble wee not the repose of Church-yardes I grant that you may bee at this instant that I speake unto you so rich and happy He which esteems himselfe rich and happy in this world knowes not the nature of worldly happinesse and riches that you cannot wish more of Fortune nor Shee able to offer you more Yet thus ought you to consider where you are who you are and what are the goods which you possesse You are in the World where all things fly away and 't is in this way of flying away that you read these verities my meaning is you dwell upon the same earth whereof you are formed and consequently you lodge upon your buriall-places whose entrances will be open at all moments To say who you are I am ashamed in calling you by your proper names for to remembrance you your miseries Corruption conceaves you Horrour infants you Blood nourishes you and infection accompanyes you in the Coffin The treasures which you enjoy are but Chimeras of greatnesse and apparitions of glory whereof living you make experiment and dying you perfectly know the truth on 't There is nothing so constantly present with us as our miseries since alwayes we are miserable enough at best To what end then can stead you your present felicities since at present you scarce enjoy them at all for even at this very instant another which is but newly upon passe robs you of part of them and even thus giving you hint of the cosenage of his companions Cheates you too as well as they and thus they doe altogether to your lives as well as your contentments in ravishing these they intraine the others then what remonstrance can you exhibit of esteeming your selves happy for past felicities and which you have not enjoyed but in way of depart And if this condition be agreeable unto you still there is a necessity of setting up your rest at the end of the carreere and there it is where I attend to contribute to your vaine waylings as many resentments of Pity Take wee another tracke without loosing our selves How ingenious was that famous Queene of Egypt to deceive with good grace her Lover How much better is it to be so happy in fishing as to angle for grace in the teares of penitence She caused underhand dead fishes to be ensnared to the hooke of Antonie as often as the toy tooke him to goe a fishing to the end to make him some sport by those pleasant deceits May we not say that Ambition doth the same for when wee cast our hookes into this vast Ocean of the vanities of the world wee fish but Dead things without soule whose acquirement countervailes not a moment of the Time which we employ to attaine it Had I all the goodliest fardles of the world laded on my backe I meane had I acquir'd all the honours wherewith fortune can tickle an ambitious soule should I thence become greater of body my growing time is past would my Spirit thence become more excellent 'T is to no purpose to be passionate for such goods as a man may loose and the world can give no better these objects are too weake to ennoble her Powers Should I thence become more vertuous Vertue looks for no satisfaction out of it selfe Should I thence be more esteemed of the world This is but the glory of a wind which doth but passe away What happinesse what contentment or what utility would remaine me then that I might be at rest A Man must not suffer himself thus to be fool'd All honours can be but a burden to an innocent soule for so much as they are continuall objects of vanity which stirre up the passions and onely serve but for nourishment to them in their violences to hurry them into all sorts of extremities And after all the necessitie of dying which makes an inseparable accident in our condition gloomes the glittering of all this vaine glory which environs us In the anguishes of Death a man dreames not of the grandeurs of his life and being ever and anon upon point to depart finds himselfe often afflicted most with those good things which hee possesseth 'T is an irbosome remembrance of past happinesse measuring already the depth of the fall by the height of the place whither he is exalted * Galba Hee which found Fortune at his gate found no naile to stay her wheele But if Shee on the one side takes a pleasure to ruine Empires to destroy Realmes and to precipitate her favourites Death on the other side pardons no body alters the temperament of all sorts of humours perverts the order of every kind of habitude and not content yet to beate downe all these great Colosses of Vanitie which would be ta'en for the worlds wonders calls to the sharing of their ruine the elements thus to bury their materials in their first abysses where she hath designed the place of their entombement All things passe away and by their way tell us that we must doe so too What can a Man then find Constant in the world where Constancy doth no where reside Time Fortune Death our Passions and a Thousand other stumbling blocks shall never speake other language to us but of our miseries and yet wee will suffer our selves like A. LEXANDER to be voyc'd immortall Our prosperities our grandeurs our very delights themselves shall tell us as they passe a word in our eare that wee ought not to trust them and yet for all this we will never sigh but after them Be it then at last for very regreet to have vented to the wind so many vain sighs for Chimeras of sweets whereof the remembrance can not be but full of bitternesse no securitie of pleasure to enjoy such things as may every moment be lost Vaine honours of the world tempt me no more your allurements are powerfull but too weake to vanquish me I deride your wreaths of Laurell there grows more on 't in my garden then you can give me If you offer me esteeme and reputation among men what should I doe with your presents Time devoures every day the like of them and yet more precious I undervalue all such Good-things as It can take away againe from me Deceitfull greatnesses of the Earth cease to pursue me you shall never catch me your charmes have given some hits to my heart but not to my soule your sweets have touch't my senses but not my spirit what have you to offer me which can satisfie me Time and Fortune lend you all the Scepters and Crownes which you borrow Worldly Greatnesses are but like Masking-clothes which serve him and tâ— other
wise worldly ones have had no other recompence of their folly but such a blast of Fames Trump that they sought immortality amid'st this inconstancy of Ages where Death onely was in his Kingdome for they assisted every day at the funerall of their renowned companions and after they had seen their bodyes reduced into ashes they might with the same eye moreover contemplate their shadows I meane their statues metamorphosed into dust and all their reputation served but as a wind to beare them away into an infinity of Abysses since as a Wind being nothing else it flyes away with these heapes of ruine so farre both from the eye and all memory that in the end there is no more thought on 't In effect all these great men of the World did see buried every moment the hope of this vaine glory whereof their ambition was alwayes labouring to make acquist and yet not one of them for all this stept backe as if they tooke a pride in their vanities and the folly of them were hereditary Ambition never elevates but to give a greater fall CAESAR had seene the death of Pompey and with him all the glory of his renowne and Pompey had seene buried in the tombe of Time and Oblivion the renowne of that great Scipio whose valour more redoubted then the thunder had made the Earth tremble so oft Scipio in his turne might have read the Epitaph which despaire shame and disaster had graven in letters of Gold upon the Sepulture of Hannibal and Hannibal might have learn't to know by the unconstancy of the Age wherein he liv'd before he made experiment of them the mis-fortunes and miseries which are inseparable to our condition And yet notwithstanding all of them have stumbled one after other upon one and the same Stumbling-stone The richest of the world at last is found as poore as the poorest companion I am not come into Persia for the conquest of treasures said Alexander to Parmenio take thou all the riches and leave mee all the glory but after good calculation neither of them both had any thing at all These riches remained in the world still to which they properly appertained and this vaine-glory saw its lover dye without it selfe being seene Insomuch that after so great conquests the wormes have conquered this great Monarch and as the dunghill of his ashes ha's no sort of correspondence with this so famous name of Alexander which otherwhile he bore t is not to be said what he hath beene seeing what he is now I meane his present wretchednesses efface every day the memory of his past greatnesses Ambitious spirits though you should conquer a thousand worlds as hee did this one you should not be a whit richer for all these conquests The Earth is still as it was it never changes nature All her honours are not worth one teare of repentance all its glory is not to bee prized with one sigh of contrition I grant that the noise of your renowne may resound through the foure corners of the Universe That of SALADINE which went round it all could not exempt him from the mishaps of life nor miseries of Death After he had encoffered all the riches of the East yet findes he himselfe so poore for all that hardly can he take along with him so much as a Shirt Embalme then the Aire which you breathe with a thousand Odours bee Served in Plate of Gold Lye in Ivory Swimme in Honours and lastly let all your actions glitter with magnificence the last moment of your life shall bee judge of all those 'T is the greatest horror of death to render account of all the moments of life which have preceded it then shall you be able at your Death to tel me the worth of this vaine glory whereof you have beene Idolaters and after your Death you shall resent the paines of an eternall regreet having now no more opportunity to repent you to any effect Beleeve mee all is but Vanity Honour Glory Riches Praise Esteeme Reputation All this is but smoake during Life and after Death nothing at all The Grands of the world have made a little more noyse then others by the way But this Noyse is ceas'd their light is extinguish't their memory buried And if men speake of them sometimes the answer is returned with a shake of the head intimating no more words of them since such a Law of silence Time hath imposed hereon Seeke your glory in God and your Honour in the contempt of this earthly Honour if you will eternize your renowne in the perpetuity of Ages I have no more to say to you after these truths A PROLVSIVE upon the EMBLEME of the third Chapter A Funeral Herse with wreaths of Cypres crested A Skeleton with Roabes imperiall vested Dead march sad lookes no glorious circumstance Of high Atchievements and victorious Chance Are these fit Trophy's for a Conquerour These are the Triumphs of the Emperour ADRIAN who chose this Sable Heraldry Before the popular guilded Pageantry ' Stead of Triumphall Arches he doth reare The Marble Columnes of his Sepulcher No publike honours wave his strict intent To shrine his Triumph in his Monument The Conscript Fathers and Quirites all Intend his welcome to the Capitoll The vast expence one day's work would have cost He wiser farre since t'other had beene lost To build a Mausolaeum doth bestow Which now at Rome is call'd Saint * Moles ADRIANI nunc Castrū S. Angeli Angelo Where to this Day from Aelius Adrian's Name The Aelian * Pons Aelius Bridge doth still revive his fame Now was the peoples expectation high For wonted pompe and glitt'ring Chevalry But loe their Emp'rour doth invite 'em all Not to a Shew but to his Funerall They looke for Gew-Gaw-fancies his wise scorne Contemnes those Vanities leaves their hope forlorne For since all 's smother'd in the Funerall Pile He will not dally with 'em for a while This was Selfe-Victory and deserveth more Then all the Conquests he had woon before What can Death doe to such a man or Fate Whose Resolutions them anticipate For since the Grave must be the latter end Let our preventing thoughts first thither tend Bravely resolv'd it is knowing the worst What must be done at last as good at first ADRIAN Emperour of Rome Celebrates himselfe his Funeralls and causes his Coffin to be carried in Triumph before him THE MIRROVR WHICH FLATTERS NOT. CHAP. III. O How glorious is the Triumph over Death O how brave is the Victorie over a Mans selfe You see how this great * Adrian Monarch triumphs to day over that proud Triumpher Death after the happy vanquishment of his passions Hee enters into his Empire by the Port of his Tombe thus to raigne during his life like a man that dyes every moment he celebrates himselfe his owne Funerals and is led in Triumph to his Sepulcher to learne to dye generously What a glory 's this to over-awe That which commands the
fury and rage have assassinated even Natures-selfe and that we now alone remaine in the world to celebrate its funerals by our lamentations and regreets Fathers Mothers Death is a severe Iudge and pardons none Children Nobles and Plebeians Kings and their subjects are all pell-mell in this stacke of rotten wood which Time like a covert but burning fire consumes by little and little not able to suffer that ashes should be exalted above dust Proud Spirits behold here the dreadfull reverse of the medall All these sad objects of mortality and yet actively animated with horror affright by their own silence enjoyne the same to you thus to amuze your Spirits in the contemplation of their deplorable ruines If you be rich See here those who have possessed the greatest treasures of the world are not now worth the marrow of their owne bones whereof the wormes have already shared the spoyle If you be happy The greatest favorites of fortune are reduced to the same noysomnesse as you see the filth that enrounds them If you be valiant Hector and Achilles are thus here overcome behold the shamefull markes of their overthrow If you be men of Science Death may be contemned but not avoided Here lyes the most learned of the world 'T is the Epitaph on their tombe Reade it I grant more-over you may be the greatest Princes of the earth An infinite number of your companions are buried under these corrupted ruines Suppose in fine that your Soveraignety did extend it selfe over all the Empire of the world A thousand and a thousand too of your semblables have now nothing more their owne then that corruption which devoures even to the very bones Ambitious Heart see here a Mirrour which flatters not since it represents to the life the reality of thy miseries Well maist thou perhaps pretend the conquest of the Universe even those who have borne away that universall Crowne are now crowned but with dust and ashes 'T is no wonder the Miser ne're thinks of Death his thoughts are onely taken up for this Life Covetous wretch behold the booke of thy accounts calculate all that is due to thee after payment of thy debts learne yet after all this that thy soule is already morgaged to devils thy body to wormes and thus notwithstanding all thy treasures there will not abide with thee one haire upon thy head one tooth in thy chops nor one drop of blood in thy veynes nor ne're so little marrow in thy bones nay the very memory of thy being would be extinguish't if thy crimes did not render it eternall both here and in the torments of hell Pride is but like the noone-flourish of a flower which at Sun-set perisheth Proud arrogant man measure with thy bristled browes the dilatation of the earth Brave with thy menacing regards the heavens and the flarres These mole-hills of rottennesse whereof thy carkasse is shap't prepare toward the tombe of thy vanity Seneca Epist These are the shades of Death inseparable from thy body Quotidie morimur quotidie enim demitur aliqua pars vitae since it dyes every houre If thou elevate thy selfe to day even to the clouds to morrow thou shalt be debased to nothing But if thou doubt of this truth behold here a thousand witnesses which have made experience of it Luxurious Wanton give thy body a prey to voluptuousnesse deny nothing to thy pleasures but yet consider the horrour and dreadfulnesse of that Metamorphosis when thy flesh shall be turned to filth and even that to wormes and those still to fresh ones which shall devoure even thy coffin and so efface the very hast markes of thy Sepulture How remarkable is the answere of Diogenes to Alexander What art thou musing on Cynicke says this Monarch to him one day having found him in a Charnell-yard I amuze my selfe here answers he in search of thy father Philips bones among this great number which thou see'st but my labour is in vaine for one differs not from another Great Kings the discusse of this answer may serve you now as a fresh instruction to insinuate to you the knowledge of your selves You walke in triumph to the Tombe followed with all the traine of your ordinary magnificences but being arrived at this Port blowne thither with the continuall gale of your sighs your pompe vanisheth away your Royall Majestie abandons you your greatnesse gives you the last Adieu and this your mortall fall equals you now to all that were below you The dunghill of your body hath no preheminence above others unlesse it be in a worse degree of rottennesse Corruptio optimi pessima as being of a matter more disposed to corruption But if you doubt of this truth behold and contemplate the deplorable estate to which are reduced your semblables Their bald scalps have now no other Crowne then the circle of horrour which environes them their disincarnated hands hold now no other Scepter but a pile of worms and all these wretchednesses together give them to see a strange change from what they were in all the gloryes of their Court These palpable and sensible objects are witnesses not to be excepted against The serious meditation of his miserable condition is capable to make any man wise Let then your soules submit to the experiment of your senses But what a Prodigie of wonder 's here doe I not see the great Army of Xerxes reduced and metamorphosed into a handfull of dust All that world of men in those dayes which with its umbragious body covered a great part of the earth shades not so much as a foot on 't with its presence Be never weary of thinking of these important truths In Hercule Octaeo Seneca in the Tragedie of Herculeâ— brings in Alcmena with grievous lamentation bearing in an urne the ashes of that great Monster-Tamer Ecce vix totam Hercules Complevit urnam quà m leve est pondus mihi Câ—i totus aether pondus incubuit leve And to this effect makes her speake Behold how easily I carry him in my hand who bore the Heavens upon his shoulders The sense of these wordes ought to engage our spirits to a deepe meditation upon the vanity of things which seeme to us most durable All those great Monarchs who sought an immortalitie in their victories and triumphs have miss't that and found Death at last the enjoyment of their Crownes and splendours being buried in the same Tombe with their bodyes See here then a new subject of astonishment The Mathematicians give this Axiome All lines drawne from the Center to the Circumference are equall Kings Princes abate your haughtines The world is a Game at Chesse where every of the Sett ha's his particular Name and Place designed but the Game done all the Pieces are pellmell'd into the Bagge and even so are all motrals into the grave your subjects march fellow-like with you to the Center of the grave If life gave you preheminence