I.
MEDITATION
VARIABLE, and therfore
miserable condition of Man;
this minute I was well, and am ill, this minute. I am surpriz'd with a
sodaine change, and alteration to worse, and can impute it to no cause,
nor call it by any name. We study Health, and we deliberate
upon
our meats, and drink, and ayre, and exercises,
and we hew, and wee polish every stone, that goes to that building; and
so our Health is a long and regular work; But in a minute a
Canon
batters all, overthrowes all, demolishes all; a Sicknes
unprevented
for all our diligence, unsuspected for all our curiositie; nay,
undeserved,
if we consider only disorder, summons us, seizes us, possesses
us,
destroyes us in an instant. O miserable condition of Man, which was not
imprinted by God, who as hee is immortall himselfe, had
put
a coale, a beame of Immortalitie into us, which
we
might have blowen into a flame, but blew it out, by our first
sinne;
wee beggard our selves by hearkning after false riches, and infatuated
our selves by hearkning after false knowledge. So that now, we doe not
onely die, but die upon the Rack, die by the torment of sicknesse; nor
that onely, but are preafflicted, super-afflicted with these jelousies
and suspitions, and apprehensions of Sicknes, before we can cal
it a sicknes; we are not sure we are ill; one hand askes the other by
the
pulse, and our eye asks our urine, how we do. O multiplied misery! we
die,
and cannot enjoy death, because wee die in this torment of sicknes; we
art tormented with sicknes, and cannot stay till the torment come, but
preapprehensions and presages, prophecy those torments, which induce
that death
before either come; and our dissolution is conceived in these first
changes, quickned in the sicknes it selfe, and borne
in death, which beares date from these first changes. Is this
the
honour which Man hath by being a litle world, That he hath
these earthquakes
in him selfe, sodaine shakings; these lightnings, sodaine
flashes;
these thunders, sodaine noises; these Eclypses, sodain
offuscations,
and darknings of his senses; these Blazing stars, sodaine fiery
exhalations; these Rivers of blood, sodaine red waters? Is he a
world to himselfe onely therefore, that he
hath inough in himself,
not only to destroy, and execute himselfe, but to presage that
execution
upon himselfe; to assist the sicknes, to antidate the sicknes, to make
the sicknes the more irremediable, by sad apprehensions, and as if he
would
make a fire the more vehement, by sprinkling water upon the coales, so
to wrap a hote fever in cold Melancholy, least the fever alone should
not
destroy fast enough, without this contribution nor perfit the work
(which
is destruction) except we joynd an artificiall sicknes, of our
owne melancholy, to our natural, our unnaturall
fever. O perplex'd discomposition,
O ridling distemper, O miserable condition of Man!
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