Justice will proclaim My misdemeanors and make evident How I in courting sin my time have spent Nay though I were upright yet would I not Desire to live my Soul hath quite forgot Its former kindness to that piece of clay It lov'd so much before and every day Longs to be from its consort separate Whom it doth now with so much reason hate Yet here 's my comfort that I understand My God will punish with impartial hand Both just and unjust and will evidence That 'twixt them both he makes no difference Has no respect for persons no regard For one or other but gives out award In every point as he finds just and layes Every mans Cause in equal ballances In unjust Causes he will none maintain So of Gods Justice no man should complain If in his wrath God should the wicked slay And root them out what could those wretches say Against Gods Justice when their Conscience Assures them he has done them no offence Because Gods Judgements do their sins pursue And punishment t' offenders is as due As Wages to the Labourer for each sin First acts its part then Judgement does begin Where it leaves of and so pursues the Chace Until the breathless sinner end his Race This is his Justice but his Mercie sure Eternal to all ages doth endure Must not our God be full of Clemency When on the wicked even unwillingly He executes his Justice punishment Is long delay'd and vengeance seldom sent 'Gainst any but the stiff impenitent Who at his Judgement doth repine and cry Out upon Gods too great severity Sure that unhappy Creature doth mistake Gods Bounty and his own Condition make Worse than it was intended for we know In Mercy God is quick in anger slow A God of Mercy he himself doth write And so in sinners death takes no delite Far lesse than should the just and innocent Think God takes pleasure in their punishment Nor ought we to repine when we reflect How God the wicked Lords o' th' earth doth make How he puts Pastures Vineyards Houses Lands Power Jurisdiction Honours in their hands By which puff'd up a wanton life they lead Whilst godly men do toil for daily bread Nor how the Judges of the earth abuse Their Sacred Function and their Power do use T' oppress the Just whose eyes with avarice Are sealed up who boldly set a price On Justice and employ their utmost Art To sell the same as in a publick Mart. Who by their Friends use to negotiat For Quotes of Pleas and closely stipulat For so much at the Issue of the cause T' attain which point they cruciat the Laws And make them serve their ends so forcibly As all the world may see their Bribery If we consider how God doth permit Those men to live on earth as they think fit Because they 're none of his and have no share I' th'land of Promise whilst the upright are In sad afflictions toss'd and seem to be O're whelmed by a most impetuous Sea Of miseries wee 'l find these walk i' th'Road Of black Damnation of such Creatures God Doth take no care but le ts them all run wild Like Herds of Asses in the open field But his own Children he doth exercise In a continual tract of miseries That being keep'd in such strict Discipline In a full body they may mount the Line I' th' daily Seige of Heaven and in the end Possess the same only to be attain'd By Sighs and Tears whilst wicked men do run Without all order and so are undone Amidst their pleasures for they do compell Their Souls instead of Heaven to march to Hell Now were it lawful to repine did God Allow to any that do feel the Rod To say that his condition were sad Sure never any Mortal Creature had More cause than I poor wretch have to complain Who 've lost my years and spent my days in vain Swifter than Post my days their course have run That I might be more speedily undone My days are gone my time is vanished My hours are fled my life is finished My wretched life a Scene of woes has been Under the Sun I have small pleasure seen Whilst others of obscure and mean estate To Wealth and Honours have been elevate Their modest parts buoyd up by Friends and Fame Purchassing quickly to those Fools a Name Which impudently they would attribute To their abilities I destitute Of every thing that 's good do silently Spin out my days in grief and penury And as the south wind with a gentle breese Breaths on the verdant Plain and skims the Seas With little noise so I my days have spent My view o' th' world was meerly transient Have you not seen a Vessel under sail Swoln with a stiff but favourable gale Post through the stubborn Seas and make a Line Upon its surface in a foaming brine Or with what wonderful celerity The ravenous Eagle to her prey doth flye So have my days run out so have my years Plough'd through a sea of foaming brinish tears Now should I say I will complain no more But here my exclamations give o're Here to my querullous Notes I 'le put a stop And from this minute I 'le begin to hope Then all my sorrows all my woes and fears Would suddainly appear about my ears With ghastly looks they 'd stare me in the face And in their silence publish my disgrace Because however I my self do vent I know God will not hold me innocent If horrid sins then do my Soul distain Why do I thus excuse my self in vain If to my Maker I have given offence Why should I all this while plead Innocence No sure if things be so all I can say Is to no purpose only I betray My weakness in endeavouring to maintain My just demeanour where my guilt is plain For certainly however I pretend To Piety and Grace yet in the end The great Heart-searcher will make evident That to this minute I my days have spent In wickedness and sin in villany Not to be nam'd in stead of purity And thou O Lord in just conceived rage will Sentence such a Scandal of his age To utmost torment that the world may see How much thou hatest such a one as me Whilst all the Fig-leav'd arguments I use To palliate my sins and make excuse For my false dealings and unrighteousness ' Stead of concealing shall my guilt express For God Almighty's not a man as I'm That I should set my face to 't and defye him When he to Justice doth himself betake That I before my God should answer make An what am I a moulded piece of Dust Consigned to a few years breath in trust Awalking ghost a meer night wanderer Like th' empty figment of some Conjurer That such as I forsooth should undertake Harangues befor the King of Heavens to make And argue for my self whilst tacitely My Conscience tells me I deserve
undoubtedly Which of us have most erreà they or I Whilst I my self no other way defend But by those tears which from my eyes descend By which to God my cause I recommend Yet would to God that one in my estate As with his Neighbour freely might debate With his Creator then would I demand For what sad misdemeanours doth the hand Of God thus ly upon me why alace Am I in such a lamentable case Is it because the season of my years Proper for such afflictions appears And that the strength and vigour of my age Seems able with such tortures to engage Why be it so yet after all alace Me thinks my God should now extend some grace And not for ever show an angry face Yea sure me thinks he should some pity have Now when I am even stepping to my Grave For oh My time appointed quickly shall run out My years shall vanish soon and then I doubt Some friend will kindly drop a tear and mourn For one who goes whence he shall not return Cap. XVII MY Lungs are wasted and I find my breath Is corrupt and has now the scent of Death The current of my Life is now run out And when on all hands I do look about I find there 's no way how I can escape The Grave for every spot of Earth doth gape For this poor Carrion and I wish it were Fairly interr'd and not i' th' open air Expos'd to be the Food and daily Fare Of Beasts and Birds of prey I drop into the Grave I breath with pain And nothing of a man doth now remain But some small reason and a voice that 's shrunk Into the accent of a hollow Trunk Yet in this sad condition fain would I Expect the good hour wherein I must dye I 'd fain resign my breath and trindle hence With satisfaction that my innocence Though question'd here is to my Maker known And I must make account to him alone Fain would I in the Grave ly down and rest My wearied Bones where I might find at least After so many pains and sorrows ease But these men will not let me dy in peace For stead of comfort in this exigent With bitter words they do my Soul torment Were any of those men now in my case How would they take it pray if in their face While they were dying one should them upbraid And call them Hypocrites I am afraid For all their fair pretended patience Were they but conscious of their innocence And in such sad distress as I am now Their warm Religion and their Morals too In such a case would have enough ado To curb just Indignation which no doubt As well as mine would suddainly burst out Sure they 'd complain and tax th' Upbraiders too Oâ— Barbarous unkind Usage as I now Do them for their harsh dealing thus with one Whose Innocence even to themselves is known For no so Sauvage Nation ever yet Allowed that dying men at such a rate Should be insulted but most courteouslie Have still indulg'd to such the Libertie To use their own Devotions and die Yet this to me my unkind Friends deny Since things are so with these I 'le no more speak But to th' Almighty I 'le my speech direct I must a little with my God debate With my Good God I must the question state For I perceive let me say what I can My case cannot be understood by man I will debate with God then Say Good Lord Wilt thou to me this liberty afford Wilt thou with me join issue in the case And let us argue frreely face to face As one doth with another here below And plead th' affair in open Court if so Be pleas'd to put in surety for that end Now who'll baâ—l God as one would do his Friend Go to then since I must debate my case With God who understands it not with these Who neither understands it nor will be By all that I can speak inform'd by me First then my God let these say what they will I lay it as a solid Principle That though when sins of wicked men do cry To Heavens for justice on whom by and by Thou send'st thy numerous Plagues in troops abroad And put'st those wretches under thy blackrod Yet those are not the only men whom thou Appoin't'st for sorrow but to just men too Sad tokens are of thy displeasure sent By way of Trial not of Punishment For I denie â—oâ— but Afflictions are The just rewards of sin nor will I dare T' aver the contrâ—â— Yet O Lord I know Oft times thou dost afflict thy own that so Thou mayst by humbling of 'em let them see How much all Mankind should depend on thee Who all things hast created and can'st send Judgments or Mercies where thou dost intend And yet when thou dost Good Men persecute Thou dost not mark them as without dispute Men who deserv'd such usage at thy hand No certainly for none who understand The method which thy Divine Providence Doth use with men and what 's the difference Betwixt a Trial and a Punishment Will make up such an unkind Argument As these out of my sad afflictions do But notwithstanding all my plagues allow I am not yet so guilty as those men By very Strength of Rhetorick would fain Perswade me to believe whilst they assert As a firm Axiom and by rules of art Argue it boldly that no man can be Afflicted by the hand of God but he Whose sins are horrid and abominable A strange opinion an intolerable And impudent assertion such as none Who have regard to their own Souls would own What! thus to circumscribe th' Almighty God! As if he should not use his angry rod On any but his open enimies In mâ—er revenge and not his own chastise To keep them in their duty this indeed Is Doctrine no way to be suffered Poor inconsiderat Fools they 'l not allow That priviledge to God which Mortals do Freely enjoy without impediment For should one now retort their argument Upon themselves and seriously check Those knowing persons when they do correct With loving stripes those of their Family Whom they do most esteem then by and by They'd tell us what they do is not revenge Hatred or Wrath but Love and yet 't is strange They should assert that God afflicteth none But those he hates Thus I perceive then Lord th' hast hid from these The true and genuine meaning of my case But Lord I know all comes alike to all And thou in Wisdom lets thy Judgments fall On just and sinful men promisâ—uously And wilt not show the world a reason why Thou thus dost act that so both good and bad May know thy Mighty Hand and be afraid T' incur the hazard of thy hot displeasure When thou demonstâ—ates to 'em with what measure Thou fadom'st all mens actions for as thou Where wrath is merited wilt not allow The party punish'd should plead innocent And say thou' rt
yet for some years to live At this his sicknesse shall decrease apace His spirits shall return and in his face The blossoms of new life shall then appear As when the Spring doth usher in the year His flesh shall be as soft and delicate As it appear'd once in his infant state But that 's not all for as to health restor'd So God to him most kindly shall afford That sweet communion with himself which all Esteem so much who on his Name do call And that bless'd comfort which afflictions cloud So long time from this poor mans soul did shrowd Shall then more bright appear and shine again As when the Sun triumphant after rain Unto the longing Earth himself displays And chears her up with warm refreshing rays Then he shall be above all calumny And shall rejoice in his integrity Shall pray to God with successe and no more Sadly suspect as he had done before That he who dwells in Heaven did disdain So much as t' hear him when he did complain And all his tears and prayers were in vain For our good God in mercy infinite Be sure my friend doth take no small delite To save a sinner that is penitent When he perceives him heartily repent For often upon men he casts his eye Where if he in a corner doth espy Some poor heart-bursting sinner on his knees Whose outrun eyes are now upon the lees Whose voice with crying to that note is shrunk As if he mutter'd through a hollow Trunk Who after many a sad and killing groan Whose heat would almost melt a heart of stone In a few words can only stammer out Lord I have sinn'd and now what doth it boot What doth it boot good Lord what after all My trade of sin can I my profit call Ay me good God to what by just account Doth th' provenue of all my sins amount What have I gain'd alace what have I gain'd To what have I by my dear sins attain'd How foolishly good Lord as now appears Have I consum'd my profitable years And spent the cream of all my youth and strength In prosecution of what now at length Affords no profit to my soul but brings The thoughts of sad and execrable things Into my mind which though I do deplore And by thy grace intend to act no more Yet the remembrance of my wanton years Present a prospect of perpetual fears Before my eyes and I still apprehend That I shall justly suffer in the end For all my sins unless that thou in Grace Wilt hear me and have pity on my Case This poor convinced sinner God will hear And to him soon most gracious appear He will not let him perish but will save His soul from Hell his body from the Grave Thus then by Dreams by Visions and Diseases And by his Preachers whensoere he pleases He warns us of our danger and commands His killing Angels oft to hold their hands For a few years at least that he may see What the effects will of these Warnings be For in mens ruine he no pleasure takes But even suspends his Justice for their sakes That they may have some leasure to repent And not be reeking in Offences sent Like Devils t' endure eternal punishment But of their foolish Errors undeceiv'd Spite of themselves they may at length be sav'd Then pray my friend remark what I have said And to what I have yet to say take heed Observe me pray and to my words give ear For it is fit thou with attention hear What God has by Commission ordered me To speak dear friend in reference to thee Yet if th' hast any thing to say my friend In thy defence I 'le not be so unkind As to command thee silence but allow Thee liberty to speak and argue too Against what I have said for my intent I' th' series of my present Argument Is if I can to prove thee Innocent If not pray hold thy peace be silent pray And with attentive mind mark what I say Mark what I say for by his Divine Grace Who ordered me to speak upon this Case I 'le teach thee Wisdom more then ever yet Thou understood'st although thou wert of late Renown'd for Wit and Literature at least In Reputation rank'd amongst the best Of those sharp Wits who live here in the East Cap. XXXIV AFter some pause as if he did expect An answer seeing Job no answer make To what he said he thus continued To speak and argue on the common Head And now says he you see how I am sent By warrand from my God to represent His judgment of the Question in hand And therefore I must let you understand As I 'me commanded with Authority Where you 've done right and where your Errors ly Shall then request you of my audience Whom I esteem men of great eminence For wit and parts to hear with patience What I am now to speak For I am not to speak before a Rabble O' th' Vulgar but before those who are able To judge of my Discourse before such men As on this Subject can themselves explain Better then I and handle with more wit The Question if their Passion would permit Let 's then impartially consider now Without all heat what 't is we have to do With moderation let 's the Question state And understand on what we 're to debate For I am not ambitious in the least Nor do I entertain within my breast Such a proud thought as that I may be said T' have had the better of you no indeed I 'me none of those that argue for applause Or love to preach for reputations cause Or in discoursing make it all my care To angle Ears and become Popular By flourishes of studied Eloquence Or gain the name of learn'd with great expence Of painted Language as too many now Of my Profession are in use to do No no my friends I hate such practices And only shall in a few passages Without all Art a short Relation make Of what my God has ord'red me to speak To come to th' point then as I 've formerly Show'n how th' Almighty by his Ministry By Dreams Diseases Visions and such means Is in his Mercy pleas'd to take much pains To show the sons of Men what he intends Before upon them he Afflictions sends That by the prospect of their Punishment He may perswade them timely to repent Especially when thus before their eyes He lays the scene of their Calamities By which you see he deals not by surprize With any man from whence I do maintain That he who of his Judgments doth complain As if such Woes without prediction were Pour'd out upon him doth extreamly err So in the next place I intend to show That when our God is pleas'd to inflict a blow On anie man I think in conscience Th' afflicted man should with great patience Endure it as a thing which suddainlie Has
the reach of Malice and envy Then without stain thou shalt hold up thy face In brisque defyance of the Worlds disgrace In resolutions fix'd thou shalt appear Above all the impressions of fear Shalt end thy days in calm prosperity Forgetting all thy former misery And shalt remember on thy woes at last As men remember dreams when they are past Or as when water streams passe quickly by They 'r no more notic'd by the Travellers eye So shall thy troubles be at length forgot Obliterat extinguish'd dash'd what not Then shal't th' appear more flourishing and gay Than doth the Sun at Noon-tide of the day Or as he from his Morning Couch doth rise And with his sweet Carnation-blushes dies The Mountain-tops so then thou shalt appear And like him shine most beautiful and clear Founded in hope thou shalt with confidence Boldly rely upon thy Innocence Enjoy the good things of'the Earth in store And shalt know want and penury no more Thou shalt with safety Furrow up the Ground And where Earths hidden Treasures can be found Securely dig and reap those goodly things Which here beget us Emperours and Kings Nay thou shalt with thy Riches have more peace And sleep more soundly than the best of these For in profound tranquility of mind Thou shalt great ease and satisfaction find With soft domestict peace thou shalt be bles't No rude allarum shall disturb thy rest Thy proud Relations shall not thee despise But maugre all their envy thou stalt rise In wealth and reputation and encrease In all the goodly perquisits of peace For stead of cursing with uplifted hands They shall present thee with their mean demands And with sad groanings and submission plead The favour of some petty Loaves of bread T' allay the Famine and compesce the cryes Of their decaying half-starv'd Families But such as in their â—ins do persevere And with high lifted hands do boldly Err Such as on wrath and malice are intent And have no Inclination to repent God shall destroy all their fair hopes shall fail Nor shall their Death-bed-tears with him prevail He with great justice shall reject their Suit And when they are accus'd they shall be mute Sorrow of mind anxiety and care Black Horrour sad Remembrance and Despair Shall be with those poor men familiar Cap. XII WIth pious silence Job had all this time Heard Zophar shreudly aggravat his crime Made to his talk no interruption As many in his case would sure ha' done But so soon as his friend an end had made To his discourse he only answered Indeed my friends I see you are so wise 'T is to be fear'd with you all Wisdom dies You feel no pains and torments as I do And therefore think all my Expressions now Are but like School-boyes whinings when chastis'd For their own good for such indeed you 're pleas'd T' esteem my carriage You who have never yet affliction known On whose foft faces no rude wind has blown Have ne'r known sorrow or the use of tears But smilingly enjoy'd your peaceful years 'T is easy for you in such words as these T' accuse th' afflicted of what crimes you please Then after all this Torrent of Discourse Sure you imagine that by very force Of reason you 've oblig'd me to confess That I 'm now punish'd for my wickedness You think you have my case so opened In arguments not to be answered And so ensnar'd me by your Art and Skill As I a Fool a Mad-man what you will Must as a man found guilty hold my peace And hear my Sentence read upon my knees But seriously my friends I 'd have you know You 're much deceiv'd if you imagine so I know no difference betwixt you and me In any thing but what you all do see My sad affliction I 'm scandalously poor I must confess But I was never tax'd with foolishness For follow your discourse and you shall find Although I cannot so express my mind As you do in your Flowres of Eloquence Yet truly I lack neither Wit nor Sense Memory Judgment or what Parts you call And understand as much as you do all Whence this insulting then pray to what end Do all your vain Expostulations tend Whence all these Accusations alace D' ye mean to mock me in my very face Because God in his mercy grants you all Your hearts desire aud hears you when you call Therefore a man afflicted and opprest Must be the subject of your unkind jest You think perhaps that God doth favour none Or has respect but for your selves alone Because you 're rich because you never yet Have known the pangs of a distress'd Estate Hence though upright and just the poor with you Have no esteem to such you don't allow The Character of simple Innocence But laugh at all such with great Insolence For O how meanly you Rich Men do prize The Poor though Pious Virteous Learn'd and Wi. Yes you on Riches only set your hearts And weigh men by their Mony not their Parts Hence I 've observ'd my friends that such as you Do undervalue and I know not how As on a Lamp or Link extinguished On all that are not rich you proudly tread But what needs more t is so and still will be For wicked persons do encrease we see And men of unjust Principles do rise In Wealth and Power erecting Families Upon the Ruines of the Just and those Who understand no Piety God knows Do live in safety with his bounteous hand God doth enrich them and they fill the land Why this to me is no strange thing I knew How God did rule the World as well as you Nay who 's so stupid who so void of sense As doth not understand how Providence Earths Governor chief Minister of state To our Great God doth all things regulate Below the Sun allowing t' every Creature Its Shape its Substance Virtue Food and Nature For ask the Beasts that toil for daily fare On Earth and those who in the open Air Keep constant Commerce and they 'll plainly tell What you have lately preach'd to me as well As any of you all they 'll fully show How much all Creatures to their Maker owe. Or speak to th' Earth and it will soon proclaim The Power of God and his most Glorious Name Nay very insects things so despicable As some o'th'learned hold it questionable Whether they be of primitive Creation Or meerly by equivocque Generation Begot on putrid matter by the Sun When through the hot Signs he his course doth run Or speak to the Fishes who do every day Amidst the rude waves unconcern'dly play All these will clearly speak how deep a sense They have o'th'gracious power of Providence Then to what purpose all your talk pray why Should you obtrude your mean Philosophy Upon your friend alace I 'd have you know Your wisdom's common to all here below Why so dogmatick when you only
the time appointed shall arrive When he must die the day wherein he must Quite this vain world and return to Dust. For as a Hireling labourer doth attend The hour which to his Work may put an end That he may have his Wages and some rest From his hard labour so with cares oppress 't Poor Man for his appointed time doth wait Wherein his foolish labours soon or late May have an end that so the wearied slave May quietly lyedown and sleep in Grave That he may sleep in Grave and be no more A slave to sorrow as he was before Though he should there without all hopes remain Of ever seeing his dear World again His darling World which he so much esteem'd Of which scarce more than Embryo he dream'd But when in Grave he thinks no more upon His World for all these notions then are gone Those thoughts do with the Carrion buried lye And for his Soul ' t is all Eternity Thus then alace ah thus we plainly see Man's in a worse condition than a Tree For of a Tree cut down there 's still some hope It yet may sprout and spread its lofty top Although its scattered roots now old and dry Sapless and barren under Ground may dye And what of Trunk remains may every day In Dust and Pouder moulder and decay Yet sucking moisture from some Rivolet Whose frugal Streams doth scarce its Channel wet It quickly will revive and bud again And in short time spread out its Boughs amain As formerly and so arrive at length Unto its wonted comliness and strength But ah poor man upon his Sick-bed lyes Sighs out his Breath and like a Candle dyes Drown'd in its Socket without hopes alace Of ever living in his former case Without all hopes not sprouting like a Tree Only falls sick and dyes and where is he Ah where is he he who did once appear And thought of nothing less than death while here Where is he now where is this rambler gone What 's become of him pray' what has he done What has Earths darling done that he should dye And slip out of the World so shamefully Why Man is gone he 's now no more he 's dead He 's now in deep oblivion burried There 's no more of him For as Floods and Seas Are dryed up when Waters from them pass To other Channels so man vanisheth And is an empty nothing after death A nothing nay hold here I must correct My error and in this my passion check For though to outward view and reasoning Man in his Grave appears to be a thing Useless trod under foot esteem'd by none But hurryed in supine oblivion Yet this same Trunk which under ground doth lie Wants not its hope of Immortality For after many years it may revive Shake off its Circumambient Dust and live More firm and solid than it did before In a continued peace and die no more Yes as the waters from the Ocean flow Through Subterraneous Passages that so They in Earths Bowels may be purifi'd And free ' of former saltness gently slide Through clifts of rocks and unknown passages Into some thirsty Channel and encrease Its dwindling Streams then by degrees amain Return to their own Oceâ—n again So from the Sea of Life man sofâ—lie flowes Into the Grave where he doth onlie loss His former saltnesse and aciditie And there in closs Repositure doth lie While he be fitted for Eternity 'T is true he sleeps and shall not rise before Th' appointed time that Heavens shall be no more But when that time shall come that blessed time No new-blowen Rose no Lilly in its prime Shall smell so fragrant and appear so fair So livelie so in beautie singular So fresh so gay so bright so purifi'd As this same man who we suppos'd had die'd Shrunk into dust and in cold earth engross't This man whom we had given o're for lost When that bless'd time arrives shall re-appear More pure and act in a most glorious Sphere Than ere the Scenick Creature could do here Thrice happy those then who in grave do rest Whom no sad crosses of this life infest How much I envy their Felicity How fain would I enjoy their company Lord then that thou wouldst hide me in this grave Good Lord that such a wretch as I might have The benefit of that closs Sanctuary In which I might but for a season tarry Until thy wrath were past thy anger gone And those had storms of Judgments overblown Then of thy goodnesse please to let me know How long I must those Torments undergo How long my sufferings must endure and then Remember me in mercy once again O let me find thy kindnesse once before I drop out of this World and be no more But O I see my torments do encreasse And whilst I live shall enjoy no peace I therefore wish to dye as thâ—se oppress 't With toile and labour wish to be at rest Now if a man once in this Gulf of Death Be drown'd pray shall he re-assume his Breath Shall he revive yes yes he shall indeed And never more again be buried I 'l therefore wait I 'l therefore patiently Attend th' arrival of Eternity At least I 'l wait until the hour shall come That must restore me which although to some It be a question it to me is none For with assurance I relye upon My Makers goodnesse and believe that God Will to my sufferings set a period Then shall my God me once again embrace And to me every hour extend his Grace Then shall I Make addresse to him in prayer And shall no sooner speak then he shall hear ' Shall answer every thing I can demand And make me with great pleasure understand The language of the Saints But now alace Lord thou dost calculat My very thoughts thou dost enumerat My errors one by one and by and by In order they appear before thy eye There 's no concealing of the smallest sin Though in the breast yet when thou dost begin To reckon with us neither hope nor fear Can shelter them from eyes so sharp and clear But streightways all above board must appear When thou dost call Then all must be reveal'd And on the square be summ'd ty'd up and seal'd Like Money in a Bag that thou mayst know What each mans judgements ' to his sins do owe. Nay with so strict a survey not content Thy anger doth my wickednesse augment For even my moral sins are mustered Before thee strictly view'd and numbered And I alace am shrewdly punished For sins which in some others virtues are And in the Worlds eyes lawful do appear Then must I thus be punished good Lord Thus without pity wilt thou not afford But some small respite to my wearied Soul That I may have some leasure to condole My sad disasters Lord have pity then On me the most disconsolat of men Some respite I beseech some interval Some breathing
how I am pure and innocent And so deserve not this great punishment But O where is he to be found ah where Doth he reside shall I search here or there North South East West why all is but in vain For after all I never can obtain A sight of him from whence I plainly see There 's nothing left but black despair for me So that my soul of life is wearied And would choose even strangling to be freed From its sad pains O how I life abhorre I hate it and desire to live no more O let me die then for I know his wrath Will never cease so long as I do breath For 't is in vain to think that ever I Can be on this side of mortality Restored to my late prosperity Why truly friend 't is no small provocation For one to use such terms of desperation Under sad woes 't is true men without hope Will think upon a Dagger or a Rope Not knowing God but for those men who fear This God in saddest trials to despair Is a great sin a fault intollerable A foul offence a crime unpardonable What to despair to give all o're for lost When in the Ocean of afflictions toss't To let our spirits fail and weakly faint Like Female souls in such an exigent When we have most need to be confident To show some courage in prosperity And in the Battel of adversity When we have most use for it to have none Is truly what I cannot think upon Without disdain to sink when we should swim To lye flat on the ground when we should climb To th'mountain tops so cowardly to shrink VVhen we should stand to 't bravely is I think A quality which he who valueth Hath neither courage prudence grace nor faith Thus to despair alace how meanly base And unbecoming one of Abrams race Of Abraham that supereminent Undaunted constant and believing Saint VVho in his God such confidence did place As he could not despair in any case And for that reason was of all esteem'd The father of the faithful Shouldst thou despair then one who art descended O' th' house of faith one who hath still depended Upon the promise to thy Fathers made And as I see dost yet thy self perswade That thy Redeemer lives whom no man hath Seen ever yet but with the eyes of faith What one of so much faith thus to despair 'T is truly friend a thing not ordinar Yes one of his integrity so fond Which should support his faith thus to despond Like those who conscious of some horrid crimes Spin out their days in melancholly Chines What to despair let 's hear no more for shame Of this despair I hate its very name Despair I know indeed some impious men Who thinking death will ease them of their pain Which here they suffer for their sins and that By it their crimes will be obliterat Like mad-men at such time for death do baul Supposing the kind grave will cover all Their lewd offences but I hope my friend Thou' rt none of those who think death puts an end To all our pains nay surely thou dost know And firmly dost believe things are not so For then the fiery trial but begins And after death we 're punish'd for our sins More then in life now we are but arraign'd And may plead mercy then we are constrain'd T' endure those torments which God has ordain d For unrepenting sinners and must ly Under his wrath to all eternity Rouz up thy self then and despair no more But trust in God for he will yet restore Thee to thy former state and let thee see He doth retain more kindness yet for thee Then thou dost either merit or expect Trust in him then let faith thy heart direct In this sad tryal do no more despair For he 's a loving God and will take care Of thee and thy concerns and after all When he has try'd thee fully he 'll let fall His wrath against thee and in pure compassion Deliver thee out of this sad temptation He will restore thee to thy former state For all that thou hast seen or suffered yet And now my friends I must again to you Address my self once more you see then how This good man is not so much punished For former sins as he is visited In wrath for his despondency and passion Though yet our God has us'd such moderation In trying of him as he has no cause T' exclaim against the rigor of his Laws For yet he lives and may yet live to see Himself from all his present sorrows free Judge then if he has reason constantly Thus to complain and foolishly to cry When he has suffered no extremity I therefore do conclude that Job has spoke Such language in his pains as might provoke The wrath of God and make him yet to pour Worse judgements on him then he to this hour Has ever felt and it were equity That he with whom he has so tenderly Dealt all this while for his despondency Should yet be further punish'd but I hope He 'll have compassion on him now and stop The current of his Wrath which for my part I wish he may do quickly from my heart Lest if his torments be continued He may in his extravagance proceed And so his Heavenly Father irritate As he for ever may exheridate This ungrate wretch and never owne him more To be his Child as he has done before This winnowing tryal and may do again Could he from his unjust complaints abstain Cap. XXXVI BReathing a while till he might recollect His spirits he begun again to speak As formerly and with a judgment stayd The zealous young man thus continued Suffer me yet a little while said he To speak my friend and I 'll impart to thee What further I have yet to plead and say On Gods behalf suffer me now I pray To speak but yet a little in defence Of my great Master that I may from thence Inform thee of his Power and Majesty And thy own dulnesse and stupidity Who all this while hast boldly argued 'Gainst his procedure in thy case and said 'T was hard to send so great a punishment Upon a man so just and innocent As thou art I shall therefore freely show How much thou to this mighty God dost owe Who hath been pleas'd with so much patience To hear thee talk so on thy innocence And even attempt t'arraign his Providence Without inflicting yet some harder things Upon thee for thy sinfull murmurings Allow me then to speak for I intend 'Gainst all opponents stoutly to defend The honour of my Maker and maintain Against all mortals who of him complain That he 's all justice mercy and compassion And uses in his wrath great moderation That he 's all virtue truth and righteousness And more then I am able to express Allow me then to speak allow me pray And seriously advert to what I say Upon the subject for though my intent
which makes them reel Like mad men and in their reiterat fits Run almost out of all their little wits Thus when our God doth speak in fire and thunder He seems to rent the very Heavens assunder As if he now to mankind in his wrath Did nothing but a full destruction breath As if he mean't t'unhinge the doors of Nature And let in death on every living creature Nay so he speaks as if he did intend To bring this goodly Fabrick to an end Yet after all he 's still so kind to men As he shuts up this terrible Campaign At last in a Cessation of rain But what needs more 't were tedious to relate How many other things both high and great Our God performs things strange and marvellous Things neither known nor understood by us Things which our proud philosophy transcend Things which our reason cannot comprehend Of such great things then I shall speak no more But only here as I have said before By these great outward works we may perceive With how much reason we do all believe That he who made all these must surely be In greatnesse far beyond all that we see On lesse things now then my discourse shall run A word of snow and frost and I ha' done He who did all create doth all command Holds all the Keys of Nature in his hand Unlocks the doors of these great Magazines Of rouling Clouds where vapours of all kinds Are keep'd in store Whence as he judges it convenient Now this now that upon the Earth is sent And but a word he uses for annon As he doth speak the businesse is done He says to Snow go thou and quickly fall On Earth and as soon we are pouldred all Woods Mountains Valleys Houses all below Are wrapp'd up in a sheet of ivory snow Annon he calls for rain both great and small And bids now this now that upon us fall All do obey him all do quickly run Where ordered and what he commands is done For instantly down from the Clouds doth fall Such quantity of rain as makes us all Give o're our works i' th' field and lay aside Our labouring Tools and within doors abide Then go the Beasts too to their several dens And there themselves do shelter while it rains Not able to resist the storm and there The fiercest of them is a Prisoner Until the rain be over and the sky Again put on a bright serenity That rapid wind which wrapp'd up in a cloud Around us for some time doth roar aloud The whirle-wind which on all hands blusters so As if it out of every Point did blow Doth as I take it from the Southern Pole Upon us with a deal of fury roule As by the boistrous North-wind cold is thought To be into our Southern Countreys brought For with that wind the hoary frost appears With Ice-sickles dangling about his ears Upon our running Rivers he doth seize And spite of their swift current makes them freeze As also Lakes Pools Ditches Marishes And where before we sail'd now in a trice We run in Sledges all along the Ice He makes the Clouds with constant drudgery Like Slaves condemn'd to pump incessantly Fill all our Canals and the earth supply With water at all times as it doth need And in that service they 're so hurried Hither and thither posted here and there In this or th' other place nay every where As he thinks fit that as 't were out of breath They halt till with his hand he scattereth Them all along the Sky and makes them flow In gentle rain whether they will or no. For all those numerous vapour-chests which we Call clouds and counter-tumbling daily see Above our heads by him are ordered Assembled or in parties quartered Even as he will he makes them turn and reel I' th' Air like the swist motion of a Wheel When he thinks fit he makes them pour out rain In any place o' th' earth he doth ordain Those Clouds on several errands he doth send Some judgements others mercies do portend Each of 'em doth its own commission bear For good or ill and none of 'em appear Without a special warrand any where And now observe O Job take heed I pray Compose thy self advert to what I say Consider pray consider seriously The works of God and in sobriety Remark the methods of his providence His power his justice and his excellence Dost understand those things dost thou conceive The meaning of those wonders dost believe That all those Clouds do march retire disband Or war amongst themselves at his command Dost understand their motions here and there Or how by a just Ballance in the Air He makes them hang above us dost thou know On what they do depend or canst thou show By what art he doth raise those Clouds on high Beyond the reach of sight and by and by Doth let them down so low as one with pain Would think they could be hoised up agaèn Which certainly is a great demonstration Of his vast knowledge and with admiration On such things we should look Dost understand my friend from whence the heat Proceeds which is so violently great As sometimes it can scarce be tollerat When gentle Breezes from the South do blow But when out of the North it is not so Dost understand how he the Air has spread Like a fair Sheet of Lawn above thy head The thin and fluid Air oft broke to pieces By justling Clouds and violent impresses Of Lightnings and yet after all this Air Appears transparent and so calmly fair As it in pleasant brightness doth surpass The beauty of the finest Chrystal Glass If then thou understandest all those things And wouldst thy self plead with the King of kings In person pray be pleas'd to let us hear What thou wouldst say if God should now appear Upon his Throne if he should show his face And bid thee freely speak upon thy case What couldst thou say or if thou dar'st not speak To him thy self but dost perhaps expect That we should be thy Proctors tell us pray What we to God on thy behalf shall say For thou it seems great knowledge dost enhance Whilst we are buried in deep ignorance Then which of us thy friendswouldst have to speak To this great God in thy defence and make Apology for thee pray let us hear For if thou dost desire I should appear In thy behalf I must demand excuse For seriously my friend I do not use To plead with God for any man indeed I do not think it lawful so to plead But if thou wilt that I should pray for thee To that just God who doth both hear and see What passes now amongst us let me know And I shall quickly do it for if so I do but that good office which I owe To all men I in Prayer dare address At all times and for all men but to press My God