Meditations Upon A Garden
SEEING a tree grow somewhat irregular, in a very neat orchard, I told the owner it was pity that tree should stand there; and that if it were mine I would root it up, and thereby reduce the orchard to an exact uniformity. It was replied to this purpose, 'That he rather regarded the fruit than the form;' and that this slight inconveniency was abundantly preponderated by a more considerable advantage.
This tree, said he, which you would root up, hath yielded me more fruit than many of those trees which have nothing else to commend them but their regular situation. I could not but yield to the reason of this answer; and could wish it had been spoken so loud, that all our uniformity-men had heard it, who will not stick to root up many hundred of the best bearers in the Lord's orchard, because they stand not in an exact order with other more conformable, but less beneficial trees, who perdunt substantiam propter accidentia, destroy the fruit to preserve the form.
Not much unlike, such foolish men are those, That strive for shadows, and the substance lose.
MEDITATIONS UPON A GARDEN
MEDITATION I
Upon the new-modelling of a Garden A Gentlewoman who had lately seen a neat and curious garden, returns to her own with a greater dislike of it than ever; resolves to new-model the whole plat, and reduce it to a better form. She is now
become so curious and neat, that not a weed or stone is suffered in it, but all must lie in exquisite order; and whatever ornament she had observed in her neighbour's, she is now restless till she sees it in her own.
Happy were it, thought I, if in an holy emulation every one would thus endeavour to rectify the disorders of their own conversation, by the excellent graces they behold in the more heavenly and regular lives of others. Some Christians there are (I wish their number were greater) whose actions lie in such a comely and beautiful order, that few of their neighbours can look upon their examples without selfconviction and shame; but few are so happy to be provoked into selfreformation by such rare patterns. I see it is much easier to pull up many weeds out of a garden, than one corruption out of the heart; and to procure an hundred flowers to adorn a knot, than one grace to beautify the soul. It is more natural to corrupt man to envy, than to imitate the spiritual excellencies of others.
MEDITATION II
Upon the pulling up of a Leek A WHITE head and a green tail! How well doth this resemble an old wanton lover, whose green youthful lusts are not extinguished, though his white head declares that nature is almost so! Gray hairs should be always matched with grave deportments; and the sins of youth should rather be the griefs than pleasures of old age. It is sad when the sins of the soul, like the diseases of the body, grow stronger, as nature grows weaker: and it recals to my mind that ancient observation of* Menander:
"It is the worst of evils, to behold
Strong youthful lusts to rage in one that's old."
It is a thousand pities, that those who have one foot in the grave, should live as if the other were in hell! that their lusts should be so lively, when their bodies are three parts dead! Such sinful practices, bring upon them more contempt and shame, than their hoary heads, and reverend faces can procure them honour.
"Gray hairs, and aged wrinkles, did of old Procure more reverence than bags of gold†."
But alas! how little respect or reverence can the hoary head obtain amongst wise men, except it be found in the way of righteousness? I think the lowest esteem is too much for an old servant of the devil; and the highest honour little enough for an ancient and faithful servant of Christ.
MEDITATION III
Upon a heedless tread in a curious Garden PASSING through the small divisions of a curious knot, which was richly adorned with rare tulips, and other beautiful flowers; I was very careful to shun these flowers, which indeed had no other worth to commend them, but their exquisite colour; and unadvisedly trod upon and spoiled an excellent choice herb, which, though it grew obscurely, yet had rare physical virtues in it.
When I was made sensible of the involuntary trespass I had committed, I thought I could scarcely make the owner a better compensation, than by telling him, that herein (though against my will) I did but tread in the footsteps of the greatest part of the world
who are very careful (as I was) to keep their due distance from splendid, though worthless gallants, mean while trampling upon, and crushing under foot the obscure, but most precious servants of God in the world. As little do they heed these most excellent persons, as I did this precious herb.
Summa ingenia in occulto sœpe latent, saith Plautus.
Rare wits, and herbs, sometimes do sculk and shrink In such blind holes, as one would little think.
For my own part, I desire to tread upon no man with the foot of contempt and pride, much less upon any good man; and that I may not, it concerns me to look before I step; I mean, to consider before I censure: had I done so by this rare herb, I had never hurt it.
MEDITATION IV
Upon a withered posy taken up in the way FINDING in my walk, a posy of once sweet and fragrant, but now dry and withered flowers, which I suppose to be thrown away by one that had formerly worn it: thus, said I, doth the unfaithful world use its friends, when providence hath blasted and withered them; whilst they are rich and honourable, they will put them into their bosoms, as the owner of this posy did, whilst it was fresh and fragrant, and as easily throw them away as useless and worthless things, when thus they come to be withered. Such usage as this* Petronius long since complained of.
"Are they in honour? Then we smile like friends;
And with their fortunes all our friendship ends."
But this loose and deceitful friend stinks so odiously in the very nostrils of nature, that a† heathen poet severely taxes and condemns it as most unworthy of a man.
"'Tis base to change with fortune, and deny A faithful friend, because in poverty."
And is this indeed the friendship of the world? Doth it thus use them whom once it honoured? Then, Lord! let me never seek its friendship. O let me esteem the smiles and honours of men less, and thy love and favour more! thy love is indeed unchangeable, being pure, free, and built upon nothing that is mutable; thou never servest thy friends as the world doth its darlings.
MEDITATION V
Upon the sudden withering of a Rose BEING with my friend in a garden, we gathered each of us a rose; he handled his tenderly, smelled to it but seldom, and sparingly; I always kept it to my nose, or squeezed it in my hand, whereby in a very short time it lost both colour and sweetness, but his still remained as sweet and fragrant as if it had been growing upon its own root. These roses, said I, are the true emblems of the best and sweetest creature-enjoyments in the world, which being moderately and cautiously used and enjoyed, may for a long time yield sweetness to the possessor of them; but if once the affection seize too greedily upon them, and squeeze them too hard, they quickly wither in our hands, and we lose the comfort of them, and that either through the
soul's surfeiting upon them, or the Lord's righteous and just removal of them, because of the excess of our affections to them; earthly comforts, like pictures, shew best at a due distance. It was therefore a good saying of *Homer, Ἀνδρι ξεινοδοκω, &c.
"I like him not, who at the rate Of all his might doth love or hate."
It is a point of excellent wisdom to keep the golden bridle of moderation upon all the affections we exercise upon earthly things, and never to slip those reins, unless when they move towards God, in whose love there is no danger of excess.
MEDITATION VI
Upon the sudden withering of beautiful Flowers HOW fresh and orient did these flowers lately appear, when being dashed over with the morning dew, they stood in all their pride and glory, breathing out their delicious odours, which perfumed the air round about them, but now are withered and shrivelled up, and have neither any desirable beauty or savour in them.
So vain a thing is the admired beauty of creatures, which so captivates the hearts, and exercises a pleasing tyranny over the affections of vain man, yet it is as suddenly blasted as the beauty of a flower*.
"How frail is beauty in how short a time It fades, like roses, which have past their prime.
So wrinkled age the fairest face will plow, And cast deep furrows on the smoothest brow.
Then where's that lovely tempting face? Alas!
Yourselves would blush to view it in a glass."
If then thou delightest in beauty, O my soul! chuse that which is lasting. There is a beauty which never fades, even the beauty of holiness upon the inner man; this abides fresh and orient for ever, and sparkles gloriously, when thy face (the seat of natural beauty) is become an abhorrent and loathsome spectacle. Holiness enamels and sprinkles over the face of the soul with a beauty, upon which Christ himself is enamoured; even imperfect holiness on earth is a rose that breathes sweetly in the bud; in heaven it will be full-blown, and abide in its prime to all eternity.
MEDITATION VII
Upon the tenderness of some choice Flowers HOW much care is necessary to preserve the life of some flowers! they must be boxed up in the winter, others must be covered with glasses in their springing up, the finest and richest mould must be sifted about the roots, and assiduously watered, and all this little enough, and sometimes too little to preserve them; whilst other common and worthless flowers grow without any help of ours: Yea, we have no less to do to rid our gardens of them, than we have to make the former grow there.
Thus stands the case with our hearts, in reference to the motions of grace and sin. Holy thoughts of God must be assiduously watered by
prayer, earthed up by meditation, and defended by watchfulness; and yet all this is sometimes too little to preserve them alive in our souls. Alas! the heart is a soil that agrees not with them, they are tender things, and a small matter will nip and kill them. To this purpose is the complaint of the divine Poet:
Who would have thought a joy so coy To be offended so, and go So suddenly away?
Hereafter I had need take heed.
Joys among other things have wings, And watch their opportunities of flight, Converting in a moment, day to night. Herbert.
But vain thoughts, and unholy suggestions, these spread themselves and root deep in the heart; they naturally agree with the soil: So that it is almost impossible, at any time, to be rid of them. It is hard to forget what is our sin to remember.
MEDITATION VIII
Upon the strange means of preserving the life of Vegetables IOBSERVE that plants and herbs are sometimes killed by frosts, and yet without frosts they would neither live nor thrive: They are sometimes drowned with water, and yet without water they cannot subsist: They are refreshed and cheered by the heat of the sun, and yet that sun sometimes kills and scorches them up. Thus lives my soul: Troubles and afflictions seem to kill all its comforts; and yet without these, its comforts could not live. The sun-blasts of prosperity sometimes refresh me, and yet those sun-blasts are the likeliest way to wither me: By what seeming contradictions is the life of my spirit preserved! what a mystery, what a paradox is the life of a Christian?
Welcome my health, this sickness makes me well.
Med'cines adieu.
When with diseases I have list to dwell, I'll wish for you.
Welcome, my strength, this weakness makes me able.
Powers adieu.
When I am weary grown of standing stable, I'll wish for you.
Welcome, my wealth, this loss hath gain'd me more.
Riches adieu.
When I again grow greedy to be poor,
I'll wish for you.
Welcome, my credit, this disgrace is glory, Honours adieu.
When for renown and fame I shall be sorry, I'll wish for you.
Welcome content, this sorrow is my joy.
Pleasures adieu.
When I desire such griefs as may annoy, I'll wish for you.
Health, strength, and riches, credit and content, Are spared best sometimes when they are spent.
Sickness and weakness, loss, disgrace and sorrow, Lend most sometimes, when most they seem to borrow.
And if by these contrary and improbable ways the Lord preserves our souls in life, no marvel then we find such strange and seemingly contradictory motions of our hearts, under the various dealings of God with us, and are still restless, in what condition soever he puts us; which restless frame was excellently expressed in that pious epigram of the reverend Gataker, made a little before his death.
I thirst for thirstiness, I weep for tears,
Well pleas'd I am to be displeased thus:
The only thing I fear, is want of fears, Suspecting I am not suspicious.
I cannot chuse but live, because I die; And when I am not dead, how glad am I?
Yet when I am thus glad for sense of pain, And careful am, lest I should careless be;
Then do I grieve for being glad again, And fear, lest carefulness take care for me.
Amidst these restless thoughts this rest I find, For those that rest not here, there's rest behind.
Jam tetigi portum, valete.
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