Selected quad for the lemma: water_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
water_n	air_n	element_n	fire_n	13,062	5	7.1789	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A44244	Against disloyalty fower sermons preach'd in the times of the late troubles / by Barten Holyday., D.D., Arch=deacon of Oxford, and chaplain to His late Majesty, Charles the First, of blessed memory.	Holyday, Barten, 1593-1661.	1661 (1661)	Wing H2530; ESTC R43257	56,607	145

A cloud indeed of more show then moisture a cloud that is more ready to bestow his droppes upon the Sea then on the Land Lesse profitably and lesse naturally upon the Sea when as it owes it self unto the Land View the under-Rebel the Rebel by Implicite Disobedience and is he not solemnly Ignorant and Devoutly mischievous Does he not Break All Lawes whiles he would have some made seeking indeed to make Law rather then preserve it Does he not loose true liberty in the pursuit of mistaken Liberty Does he not endeavour to Purify the Church by Sacriledge counting it not holy till it be Poor Is he not one of so cunning a Conscience as to conveigh himself into Slavery and Damnation Surely Rebellion is as the Sinne of Witch-craft View them in their Successe and you must needs again view their likenesse What 's the Successe of Both Is is not Sorrow Sorrow to see their foolish losse of Innocence and their Just losse of safety Is it not Poverty Poverty that is sometimes a punishment for great sins and often a Provocation to them Is it not shame which no veil can cover nor Impudence can Neglect Is it not Death Death which in most cases is the End of misery but in these rather the beginning Surely Rebellion is as the Sin of Witch-craft Could any man else Delight in sorrow Confidently embrace fears Leave poverty to his heirs as the surest Inheritance which indeed can neither be plunder'd nor Forfeited Make shame his Heraldry shame which unhappily is as perpetuall as glory and after Death lead a life mixt with Death by the riddle of misery Yet has not this been the common Reward and deceit of this sin Whatsoever has been the Pretence has not this been commonly the Reward Did not the Nobles under Henry the Third pretend the protection of of the People Did they not under King John calling themselves the Army of God pretend the Protection of Royalty though not of the King himself who as some sillily tell us had given away his Royalty and People to the Pope Did they not under Edward the Second pretend the protection of vertue it self And did not Wiat among others pretend the protection of Religion it self Yet did all these pretended protections of Royalty of People of vertue of Religion protect them from the common Fate and Merit of Pretenders Could then Rebellion still prevail on reason were it not a Witch-craft Behold its successe in picture that is in its Desolations and can the News so much affect as the Sorrow disaffect Behold Desolations in the City the late Royal City does it not send out its People brought up in Peace to the Sword Does it not wofully empty it self of sinnes by emptying it self of sinners Are not its Palaces defam'd into Jails Places of Honour and liberty changd into places of shame and Restraint Are not its Churches where formerly was sounded the Gospell of Peace fill'd with the clamours though not of Law yet of Warre Are not their streets where once Joy and Freedome triumph'd scarce free for a Loyal whisper or a sigh Are not her Inhabitants Stript though not by Israelites yet as Aegyptians Have they not lost their Jewels with their Peace And could Rebellion thus prevail were it not a Witch-craft Behold desolations in the Country Is not the Horse almost grown a stranger to the Plow and more acquainted with the Musique of the Pistol then of the whip The Oxe more familiar with the Shambles then with the york Has not the flame lick'd if not devour'd beautiful habitations Is not the whole year become an Autumne wherein Trees by unhappy necessity seem as carelessely to fall as formerly leaves Is not allmost every where Baldnesse insteed of Beauty As if Warre meant not to leave felling till there were no timber left to helve an Axe And could Rebellion thus prevail were it not a Witch-craft Behold Desolations in the Vniversities Doe not the Arts mourne as if their former Blackes had not been a token of civility but of prophesy May not Grammar forget congruity in such an Age of Irregularity Is not Rhetorique a Soloecisme betraying its decay of Art if it bestowes wordes on that sorrow which is best express'd by silence Poetry though it have rather Argument then Leafure may yet fear to be no lesse posed then Employd Invention being prevented and out-gone by Action Logique cannot well retain its Reason being so over set with Disloyalty and strife Arithmetrique that was once not tired in numbring the stars and Sands now tain●s with Melancholy in reckning the slain and captives Geometrie that was acquainted and delighted with Holy Architecture finds now employment but in the Trench and Bulwarke Astronomie has more Galilaeans still gazing at the effects of her last Comet then at all her Stars The Optiques as if Injuriously hindred weep that now scarce any thing is seen but by Refraction which yet may be increas'd by our just tears Masique is so fled or chang'd that Harmony like Obedience may only be found in Heaven or the Heavenly The Earth the Water the Aire the Fire are even so Tainted that Philosophy knows not its own Elements and so divided as if they ' would scarce agree to farther composition Morality Looks it not like an old peece of chivalry The Vertues and vices being taken for Wanderers and Phansy for Vtopians Errant Oeconomie may it not fear a famine and implore your Honourable mercy If the Plow cease the Grinders must cease and the Mourners if there shall be any and they able to goe may goe about the Streets Policy is become of more Practice then Successe and very like the Italian Masters of that Craft being commonly as Bad and unhappy as Macchiavel and his Borgia The Physitian has not lost his Art but Tir'd it in the discovery of disease in the recory of Health which alwayes was held Imperfect and now Faigned The Law sees the old Enmity of Man but not the old Remedy Divinity is become like prophan'd Majesty It had once Prerogative now Subsistence is denied It seem'd once to have its part whiles on Earth in Heaven and surely now it seems to have no part in Earth 'T was once the Rule of Reason and Wisdome 't is now the Servant of Ignorance and Outrage The Priest had once a part in most Sacrifices the Priest himself is now become the Sacrifice And could Rebellion thus Prevail were it not a Witch-craft Behold desolations in the Field a great Aceldama a field of Blood a field of Battel Where destruction is an Art Where to deface the workmanship of God in Man is glory Where Phlebotomy is not Cure but mischief The Blood so flowing as if the Body were all Vein Where the Horse and his Rider strive as much to surpasse one an other as to surpasse the Enemy whiles in a superexaltation of courage they seem as greedy of death as of Victory Where the Sword and the Speare the Instroments of Destruction