Gold and Pearl, a• one says, are but shining dust, or excrements of the earth: Power, is but a flash of lightning, •hat fears or strikes another, and forth with it self is suddenly extinct: Pleasure, is but a bait, and yet passeth away in the act, as the taste of a pleasant drink dieth in the draught: Honour, is but a breath, and yet binds a man ⟨p. 361⟩in gilded fetters, and blasts his spirit with far more care and fear, then when he was most mean: Even as highest boughs are most shaken by the winds, and the points of steeples beaten most with storms and lightning. All worldly splendour and pomp, is but a asmoke, which vanisheth as it riseth, and draws tears from the eyes. Even a Regal Diadem, in the sense and censure of an Heathenish King, is attended with such a weighty irksome, and painful charge▪ that, saith he, He who foreknew the weight of a Sceptre, should he find it lying upon the ground, he would not deign to take i• up. And what is himself, the owner and Lord of all these? A little walking earth, a coloured piece of clay, a warm piece of dirt, a very bag of choler, fleame, and other filth; to day a man, to morrow none: his breath is in his nostrils; stop but his nose, and he is dead. And what is his abode amongst these painted vanities and things of nought? For sudden passage and change, it is like a Shepherds tent, a Weavers shuttle, or a water bubble; like a hying Post, or a flying cloud; like a ship under sail, or an Eagle on her wings; like a fading flower, or a falling leaf; like foam that is scattered, or dust that is driven with the wind; like a vapour, a thought, a smoke, a wind that passeth and cometh not again; like a flying shadow, yea, the very dream of a shadow, as one says, and that a morning dream, which is even as soon ended as begun. But let us look into his inside, and the state of his soul, and see if we can there find any more peace, comfort, or constancy. No, there you shall behold a lively resemblance of the very restless tumultuations of the raging sea; the never-dying Worm breeding and growing big in the froth of his filthy lusts, and rottenness of his rebellious heart: In a word, his poor soul bleeding to eternal death. Let us come unto his death; from the inevitable stroke whereof, all the Gold and Pearl of East and West can no more redeem him, then can an handful of dust;
Gold and Pearle, a• one sayes, are but shining dust, or excrements of the earth: Power, is but a flash of lightning, •hat feares or strikes another, and foorth with it selfe is suddenly extinct: Pleasure, is but a baite, and yet passeth away in the act, as the taste of a pleasant drinke dieth in the draught: Honour, is but a breath, and yet binds a man ⟨p. 361⟩in guilded fetters, and blasts his spirit with farre more care and feare, then when hee was most meane: Euen as highest boughs are most shaken by the windes, and the points of steeples beaten most with stormes and lightning. All worldly splendor and pompe, is but a asmoake, which vanisheth as it riseth, and drawes teares from the eyes. Euen a Reg•ll Diademe, in the sence and censure of an Heathenish King, is attended with such a weighty irkesome, and painfull charge▪ that, saith he, He who foreknew the weight of a Scepter, should he finde it lying vpon the ground, he would not deigne to take i• vp. And what is himselfe, the owner and Lord of all these? A little walking earth, a coloured piece of clay, a warme piece of dirt, a very bag of choler, fleame, and other filth; to day a man, to morrow none: his breath is in his nostrils; stop but his nose, and he is dead. And what is his abode amongst these painted vanities and things of nought? For sudden passage and change, it is like a Shepheards tent, a Weauers shuttle, or a water bubble; like a hying Poast, or a flying cloud; like a ship vnder saile, or an Eagle on her wings; like a fading flower, or a falling leafe; like foame that is scattered, or dust that is driuen with the winde; like a vapour, a thought, a smoake, a winde that passeth and commeth not againe; like a flying shadow, yea, the very dreame of a shadow, as one sayes, and that a morning dreame, which is euen as soone ended as begun. But let vs looke into his inside, and the state of his soule, and see if wee can there finde any more peace, comfort, or constancie. No, there you shall behold a liuely resemblance of the very restlesse tumultuations of the raging sea; the neuer-dying Worme breeding and growing big in the froth of his filthy lusts, and rottennesse of his rebellious heart: In a word, his poore soule bleeding to eternall death. Let vs come vnto his death; from the ineuitable stroake whereof, all the Gold and Pearle of East and West can no more redeeme him, then can an handfull of dust;
- aNon debet pro magne h•beri honor human• quis nullius est ponderis fumus. Aug de ciu•t. Dei. lib. 5 cap. 17. pag. 313.
