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of likeness to the Holy Ghost, the spirit of gentleness and dove-like simplicity; an imitation of the Holy Jesus, whose spirit is meek up to the greatness of the biggest example, and a conformity to God, whose anger is always just, and marches slowly, and is without transportation, and often hindered, and vever hasty, and is full of mercy; prayer is the peace of our spirit, the stillness of our thoughts, the evenness of recollection, the seat of meditation, the re-t of our cares, and the calm of our tempest; prayer is the voice of a quiet mind, of untroubled thoughts; it is the daughter of Christ, the sister of meekness; and he that prays to God with an angry, that is, with a troubled and discomposed spirit, is like him that retires into a battle to meditate, and sets up his closet in the out-quarters of an army, and chooses a frontier garrison to be wise in.

Jeremy Taylor.


One riseth by another's fall, and some do climb so fast, That in the clouds they do forget what climates they have pass'd.



Envy not greatness, for thou makost thereby
Thyself the worse, and so the distance greater.



() trustless state of miserable men,
That build your bliss on hope of earthly thing;
And vainly think yourselves half happy then,
When painted faces with smooth flattering
Do fawn on you, and your wide praises sing.
And when the courting masker louteth low,
How free in heart, and trusty too, you know.



For the pleasures of intemperance, they are nothing but the relics and images of pleasure, after that nature hath been feasted; for so long as she needs, that is, so long as temperance waits, so long pleasure also stands there; but as temperance begins to go away, having done the ministries of nature, every morsel, and every new goblet, is still less delicious, and cannot be endured but as men force nature by violence to stay longer than she would! how have some men rejoiced when they have escaped a cup, and when they cannot escape they pour it in, and receive it with as much pleasure as the old women have in the Lapland dances; they dance the round, but there is a horror and a harshness in the music; and they call it pleasure because men bid them to do so; but there is a devil in the company, and such as is his pleasure, such is theirs; he rejoices in the thriving sin, and the swelling fortune of his darling drunkenness, but his joys are the joys of him that knows and always remembers that he shall infallibly have the biggest damnation; and then let it be considered how forced a joy that is, that is at the end of an intemperate feast.

Certain it is, intemperance takes but nature's leavings; when the belly is full, and nature calls to take away, the pleasure that comes in afterwards is next to loathing; it is like the relish and taste of meats at the end of the third course, or sweetness of honey to him that hath eaten till he can endure to take no more.

Jeremy Taylor.


Curs'd with unnumber'd groundless fears,
How pale yon shivering wretch appears !
For him the daylight shines in vain;
For him the fields no joys contain;
Nature's whole charms to him are lost:
No more the woods their music boast;
No more the meads their vernal bloom;
No more the gales their rich perfume:
Impending mists deform the sky,
And beauty withers in his eye.
In hopes his terrors to elude,
By day he mingles with the crowd,
Yet finds his soul to fears a prey,

In busy crowds and open day.

If night his lonely walks surprise,
What horrid visions round him rise!
The blasted oak which meets his way,
Shown by the meteor's sudden ray,
The midnight murderer's lone retreat,
Felt Heaven's avengeful bolt of late,
The clashing chain, the groan profound,
Loud from yon ruin'd tower resound;
And now the spot he seems to tread,
Where some self-slaughter'd corse was laid.
He feels fix'd earth beneath him bend,
Deep murmurs from her caves ascend;
Till all his soul, by fancy sway'd,
Sees livid phantoms crowd the shade.


HOW DID SHE DIE?-HOW DID SHE LIVE? The Rev. John Newton one day mentioned at his table the death of a lady. A young woman who sat opposite immediately said, "Oh, sir, how did she die?” The venerable man replied, "There is a more important question than that, my dear, which you should have asked first.” "Sir,” said she, "what question can be more important than 'How did she die?'” “How di she live?" was Mr Newton's answer.



There are men in the world (who think themselves no babes neither) so deeply possessed with a spirit of atheism, that though they will be of any religion (in show) to serve, their turns, and comply with the times, yet they are resolved to be indeed) of none, till all men be agreed of one; which yet never was, nor is ever like to be. A resolution no less desperate for the soul, if not rather much more, than it would be for the body, if a man should say he would never eat till all the clocks of the city should strike twelve together. If we look into the large volumes that have been written by philosophers, lawyers, and physicians, we shall find the greatest part of them spent in disputations, and in the routing and confuting of one another's opinions. And we allow them so to do without prejudice to their respective professions; albeit they be conversant about things measurable by sense or reason. Only in divinity great offence is taken at the multitude of controversies; wherein yet difference of opinions is by so much more tolerable than in other sciences, by how much the things about which we are conversant are of a more sublime, mysterious, and incomprehensible nature than are those of other sciences.

Bishop Sanderson.


Give me honours: what are these
But the pleasing hindrances,
Stiles, and stops, and stays, that come
In the way 'twixt me and home?
Clear the walk, and then shall I
To my heaven less run, than fly.


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