die); making good fome meditations of his own, viz. The Day of Death is the judge of all our other Days; the very trial and touchftone of the actions of our life. It is the end that crowns the work, and a Good Death honoureth a man's whole life. The fading corruption and lofs of this life, is the paffage into a better. Death is no less effential to us, than to live < or to be born. In flying Death, thou flieft thy felf; thy effence is equally parted into thefe two, Life ⚫ and Death. It is no fimall reproach to a Chriftian, whofe faith is in immortality, and the bleffedness of another life, to fear Death much, which is the neceffary paffage thereunto.'

§. XXXI. ABRAHAM COWLEY (whom to name, is enough with the men of wit of our time and nation) fpeaks not lefs in favour of the Temperance and Solitude fo much laboured in the preceding difcourfe: Yet that his judgment may have the more force with the reader, it may be fit that I should fay, That he was a man of a fweet and fingular wit, great learning, and an even judgment; that had known what cities, univerfities, and courts could afford; and that not only at home, but in divers nations abroad. Wearied with the world, he broke through all the entanglements of it; and, which was hardeft, great friendfhip, and a perpetual praise; and retired to a folitary cottage near Barn-Elms, where his garden was his pleasure, and he his own gardener: Whence he giveth us this following doctrine of retirement, which may ferve for an account how well he was pleafed in his change. The first work (faith he) that a man must do to make himself capable of the good of folitude, is the very eradication of all lufts; for how is it poffible for a man to enjoy himself, while his affections are tied to things without himself. The first minifter of state hath not fo much business in publick, as a wife man hath in private: If the one have little leifure to be alone, the other hath lefs leifure to be in company; the one hath but part of the affairs of one nation, the other all the works of God and nature under his • confider

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⚫ confideration. There is no faying shocks me fo much, as that which I hear very often,' "That a man "doth not know how to pass his time." It would ⚫ have been but ill spoken of Methuselah, in the nine • hundred fixty-ninth year of his life. But that is ⚫ not to deceive the world, but to deceive ourselves, as • Quintilian faith, Vitam fallere, To draw on ftill, and • amuse and deceive our life, till it be advanced infenfibly to the fatal period, and fall into that pit ⚫ which nature hath prepared for it. The meaning of all this is no more, than that moft vulgar faying, "Bene qui latuit, bene vixit;"He hath lived well, who hath lain well hidden. Which, if it be a truth, the world is fufficiently deceived: For my part, I think it is; and that the pleasanteft condition in life < is in Incognito. What a brave privilege is it, to be • free from all contentions, from all envying, or being • envied, from receiving and from paying all kind of <ceremonies! We are here among the vast and noble scenes of nature; we are there among the pitiful fhifts of policy: We walk here in the light, and <open ways of the divine bounty; we grope there in the dark and confufed labyrinths of human malice: Our fenfes are here feafted with the clear and genuine tafte of their objects; which are all fophifticated there; ⚫ and, for the most part, overwhelmed with their contraries. Here pleasure looks, methinks, like a beautiful, conftant, and modest wife; it is there an im'pudent, fickle, and painted harlot. Here, is harmlefs and cheap plenty: There, guilty and expenceful luxury. The antiquity of this art is certainly not to ⚫ be contested by any other. The three firft men in the < world were a Gardener, a Ploughman, and a Grafier: • And if any man object, That the second of these was a Murderer; I defire he would confider, that as foon as he was fo, He quitted our Profeffion, and turned Builder. It is for this reafon, I fuppofe, that the fon of Sirach forbids us to hate hufbandry; because (faith he) the Most High hath created it. We were all born to this art, and taught by nature to nourish

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our bodies by the fame earth out of which they were made, and to which they must return, and pay at laft for their fuftenance. Behold the Original and Primitive Nobility of all those Great Perfons, who < are too proud now not only to Till the ground, but almoft to tread upon it. We may talk what we please of lilies and lions rampant, and spread eagles in fields d'or, or d'argent; but if heraldry were guided by Reason, a PLOUGH in a FIELD ARABLE would be the most noble and ancient arms.'

Bleft be the man (and bleft is he) whome'er,
(Plac'd far out of the roads of Hope or Fear)
A little Field, a little Garden, feeds;

The Field gives all that Frugal nature needs;
The wealthy Garden lib'rally bestows
All she can afk, when the Luxurious grows,
The fpecious inconveniences that wait
Upon a life of business and of state,
He fees (nor doth the fight difturb his reft)
By Fools defir'd, by Wicked men poffeft.
-Ah wretched, and too Solitary, he
Who loves not his own Company:
He'll feel the weight of't many a day,
Unless he call in fin or vanity

To help to bear't away.

Out of Martial, he gives us this following epigram, which he makes his by Translation and Choice, to tell his own Solitude by: I place it here as his.

Would you be free? 'Tis your chief with you fay:
Come on; I'll fhew thee, friend, the certain way:
If to no feafts abroad thou lov't to go,

Whilft bounteous God doth bread at home bestow;
If thou the goodness of thy clothes doft prize
By thy own Use, and not by others Eyes;
If only safe from Weathers, thou canst dwell
In a small House, but a convenient Shell;
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If thou without a Sigh or Golden Wish
Canft look upon thy Beechen Bowl, or Dish;
If in thy mind fuch Power and Greatness be,
The Perfian King's a Slave, compar'd with thee.
Whilft this hard truth I teach, methinks I fee
The monster, London, laugh at me;

I should at thee too, foolish city,
If it were fit to laugh at Mifery;
But thy estate I pity.

Let but thy wicked men from out thee go,
And all the fools that crowd thee fo;

Even thou, who doft thy millions boast,
A Village lefs than Iflington wilt grow;
A Solitude almoft.

I shall conclude him with this prayer of his own.

For the few hours of life allotted me,

Give me (great God) but Bread and Liberty;
I'll beg no more; if more thou'rt pleas'd to give,
I'll thankfully that Overplus receive.

If beyond This no more be freely fent,
I'll thank for This, and go away content.

Here ends the wit, the praife, the learning, the city, the court, with Abraham Cowley, that once knew and had them all.

§. XXXII. The late Earl of ROCHESTER was inferior to nobody in wit, and hardly any body ever used it worse, if we believe him against himself, in his Dying Reflections: An account of which I have had from fome that vifited him in his fickness, befides that larger one made public by the prefent bishop of Salisbury. It was then that he came to think there was a God, for he felt his lashes on his confcience; and that there was fuch a thing as Virtue, and a Reward for it. Christianity was no longer a worldly or abfurd defign: But Christ a Saviour, and a moft Merciful One; and his doctrines plain, juft, and reasonable, and the true way to felicity here and hereafter: Admiring and adoring that mercy to him, which he had treated with fo much

infidelity

infidelity and obftinate contempt: Wifhing only for more life to confute his past one, and in fome measure to repair the injuries he had done to Religion by it: Begging forgivenefs for CHRIST's fake, though he thought himself the most unworthy of it for his Own. Thus died that Witty Lord ROCHESTER; and this retreat he made from the world he had fo great a name in. May the loose wits of the times, as he defired, take WARNING by him, and not leave their Repentance to a Dying-Bed.

§. XXXIII. A noble young man of the family of HOWARD, having too much yielded to the temptations of youth, when upon his fick-bed, (which proved his Dying-Bed) fell under the power and agony of great convictions, mightily bewailing himself in the remembrance of his former extravagancies; crying ftrongly to God to forgive him, abhorring his former courfe, and promifing amendment, if God renewed life to him. However, he was willing to die, having tafted of the love and forgiveness of God; warning his acquaintance and kindred that came to fee him, to fear God, and forfake the pleasures and vanity of this world: And fo willingly yielded his foul from the troubles of time, and frailties of mortality.

§. XXXIV. The late princefs ELIZABETH of the Rhine, of right claimeth a memorial in this difcourfe; her virtue giving greater luftre to her name than her quality, which yet was of the greateft in the German empire. She chofe a fingle life, as freeft of care, and best suited to the study and meditation fhe was always inclined to; and the chiefeft diverfion fhe took, next the air, was in fome fuch plain and housewifely entertainment, as knitting, &c. She had a fmall territory, which the governed fo well, that fhe fhewed herself fit for a greater. She would conftantly, every Laft-day in the week, fit in judgment, and hear and determine causes herself; where her patience, juftice, and mercy were admirable; frequently remitting her forfeitures, where the party was poor, or otherwise meritorious. And, which was excellent, though unufual, she would tem

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