Meditations Upon Trees
sometimes rate them off: for it is no less a pleasure which some wicked ones take in hunting the people of God, than what* Claudian the poet observes men use to take in hunting wild beasts.
"Whilst every huntsman in the night do sleep, Their fancies in the woods still hunting keep."
Lord! should I with the hypocrite decline the profession and practice of holiness, to escape the rage of persecuting enemies, at what time they cease, my own conscience would begin to hunt me like a bloodhound; let me rather chuse to be chased by men than God, to flee before pursuing enemies, than be dogged from day to day with a guilty conscience.
MEDITATIONS UPON TREES
MEDITATION I
Upon the fall of Blossoms, nipt by a frosty morning BEHOLDING in an early spring, fruit-trees embossed with beautiful blossoms of various colours, which breathed forth their delicious odours into the circumambient air, and adorned the branches on which they grew, like so many rich jewels, or glittering pendents; and further observing, how these perfumed blossoms dropt off, being bitten with the frost, and discoloured all the ground, as if a shower of snow had fallen; I said within myself, these sweet and early blossoms are not unlike my sweet and early affections to the Lord in the days of my first acquaintance with him. O what fervent love, panting desires, and heavenly delights beautified my soul in those days! The odoriferous scent of the sweetest blossoms, the morning breath of
the most fragrant flowers, hath not half that sweetness with which those my first affections were enriched. O! happy time, thrice pleasant spring! My soul hath it still in remembrance, and is humbled within me; for these also were but blossoms which now are nipt and faded, that first flourish is gone; my heart is like the winter's earth, because thy face, Lord, is to me like a winter sun. "Awake, O north wind! and come, south wind, blow upon my garden, that the spices there of may flow out, then let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his pleasant fruit!"
MEDITATION II
Upon the knitting, or setting of Fruit I HAVE often observed, that when the blossoms of a tree set and knit, though the flourish thereof be gone, and nothing but the bare rudiment of the expected fruit be left; yet then the fruit is much better secured from the danger of frosts and winds, than whilst it remained in the flower or blossom; for now it hath past one of those critical periods, in which so many trees miscarry and lose their fruit.
And methought this natural observation fairly led me to this theological proposition, 'That good motions, and holy purposes in the soul, are never secured, and past their most dangerous crisis, till they be turned into fixed resolutions, and answerable executions, which is as the knitting and setting of them.'
Upon this proposition my melting thoughts thus dilated: happy had it been for thee, my soul! had all the blessed motions of the Spirit been thus knit and fixed in thee. Oh, how have mine affections blown and budded under the warm beams of the gospel! But a chill blast from the cares, troubles and delights of the world without, and the vanity and deadness of the heart within, have blasted all; my
goodness hath been but as a morning-dew, or early cloud, that vanisheth away. And even of divine ordinances, I may say what is said of human ordinances, "They have perished in the using." A blossom is but fructus imperfectus, et ordinabilis, an imperfect thing in itself, and something in order to fruit; a good motion and holy purpose is but opus imperfectum, et ordinabile, an imperfect work, in order to a complete work of the Spirit; when that primus impetus, those first motions were strong upon my heart, had I then pursued them in the force and vigour of them, how many difficulties might I have overcome? Revive thy work, O Lord, and give not to my soul a miscarrying womb, or dry breasts.
MEDITATION III
Upon the sight of a fair spreading Oak WHAT a lofty flourishing tree is here? It seems rather to be a little wood, than a single tree, every limb thereof having the dimensions and branches of a tree in it; and yet as great as it is, it was once but a little slip, which one might pull up with two fingers; this vast body was contained virtually and potentially in a small acorn. Well then, I will never despise the day of small things, nor despair of arriving to an eminency of grace, though at present it be but as a bruised reed, and the things that are in me be ready to die. As things in nature, so the things of the Spirit, grow up to their fulness and perfection by slow and insensible degrees. The famous and heroical acts of the most renowned believers were such as themselves could not once perform, or it may be think they ever should. Great things, both in nature and grace, come from small and contemptible beginnings.
MEDITATION IV
Upon the sight of many sticks lodged in the branches of a choice Fruit-tree HOW is this tree battered with stones, and loaded with sticks, that have been thrown at it, whilst those that grow about it, being barren, or bearing harsher fruit, escape untouched! Surely if its fruit had not been so good, its usage had not been so bad. And yet it is affirmed, that some trees, as the walnut, &c. bear the better for being thus bruised and battered.
Even thus it fares in both respects with the best of men; the more holy, the more envied and persecuted; every one that passes by will have a sling at them. Methinks I see how devils and wicked men walk round about the people of God, whom he hath inclosed in his arms of power, like so many boys about an orchard, whose lips water to have a sling at them. But God turns all the stones of reproach into precious stones to his people; they bear the better for being thus battered. And in them is that ancient* observation verified.
"The palms and crowns of virtue thus increase; Thus persecution's turned into peace."
Let me be but fruitful to God in holiness, and ever abounding in the work of the Lord, and then whilst devils and men are flinging at me, either by hand or tongue persecutions, I will sing amidst them all with the divine poet:
"What open force, or hidden charm, Can blast my fruit, or bring me harm, Whilst the inclosure is thine arm." Herb. Poem, p. 125.
MEDITATION V
Upon the gathering of choice Fruit from a scrubbed unpromising Tree WOULD any man think to find such rare delicious fruit upon such an unworthy tree to appearance as this is? I should rather have expected the most delicious fruit from the most handsome and flourishing trees; but I see I must neither judge the worth of trees or men by their external form and appearance. This is not the first time I have been deceived in judging by that rule; under fair and promising outsides I have found nothing of worth; and in many deformed despicable bodies I have found precious and richly furnished souls.
The sap and juice of this scrubbed tree is concocted into rare and excellent fruits, whilst the juice and sap of some other fair, but barren trees, serves only to keep them from rotting, which is all the use that many souls (which dwell in beautiful bodies) serve for; they have (as one saith) animam pro sale; their souls are but salt to their bodies. Or thus, The only use to which their souls do serve,
Is but like salt their bodies to preserve.
If God have given me a sound soul in a sound body, I have a double mercy to bless him for; but whether my body be vigorous and beautiful, or not, yet let my soul be so: for as the esteem of this tree, so the esteem and true honour of every man, rises rather from his fruitfulness and usefulness, than from his shape and form.
MEDITATION VI
Upon an excellent, but irregular Tree