A Christian Directory

And when thou art in sickness, thou wilt be burdensome to others: Its likely thou must have their helps, even to fe•d thee, to dress thee, to turn thee, and keep thee clean: And when all is done thou must dye, and be laid in darkness in a grave! There must thou lye rotting night and day, till thy flesh be turned into earth. The grass doth wither when it is cut down, but yet it is sweet: The Tree that is cut down, will rot in time; but not with such a loathsome stink as we: He that had seen what the late doleful Wars did often show us, when the fields were strewed with the carcasses of men, and when they lay by heaps among the rubbish of the Ditches of Towns and Castles that had been assaulted, would think such loathsome lumps of flesh, should never have been proud. When once death hath deprived thy body of its soul, thy best friends will quickly be weary of the remainder, and glad to rid thee out of sight and smell: Go to the Church-yard, and look on the dust and bones that are there cast up and scattered, and bethink thee whether those that must come to this, have reason to be proud? See whether there be any differing mark of honour upon the dust of the rich, or strong, or beautiful? and whether the bones there strive for principality and dominion? Therefore the desire of adorned Monuments upon mens Graves, is one of the most odious sorts of pride: when the neighbourhood of rottenness and dust doth shame it: As our serious Poet H•• bert saith,

And when thou art in sickness, thou wilt be burdensome to others: Its likely thou must have their helps, even to fe•d thee, to dress thee, to turn thee, and keep thee clean: And when all is done thou must dye, and be laid in darkness in a grave! There must thou lye rotting night and day, till thy flesh be turned into earth. The grass doth wither when it is cut down, but yet it is sweet: The Tree that is cut down, will rot in time; but not with such a lothesome stink as we: He that had seen what the late doleful Wars did often shew us, when the fields were strowed with the carkasses of men, and when they lay by heaps among the rubbish of the Ditches of Towns and Castles that had been assaulted, would think such lothesome lumps of flesh, should never have been proud. When once death hath deprived thy body of its soul, thy best friends will quickly be weary of the remainder, and glad to rid thee out of sight and smell: Go to the Church-yard, and look on the dust and bones that are there cast up and scattered, and bethink thee whether those that must come to this, have reason to be proud? See whether there be any differing mark of honour upon the dust of the rich, or strong, or beautiful? and whether the bones there strive for principality and dominion? Therefore the desire of adorned Monuments upon mens Graves, is one of the most odious sorts of pride: when the neighbourhood of rottenness and dust doth shame it: As our serious Poet H bert saith,