The Husbandmans Companion, Meditation 30
Upon a withering knot of herbs.
30. Med.
WHen I beheld a knot of herbs, mixt with flowers in the garden, in a decaying, withering condition, ſome part dead, others languiſhing; and but a few alive and flouriſhing, I left off weeding, dreſſing, cutting and manuring them, as thoſe that never were likely to anſwer my pains, or recompence my labour, but conſidering there were ſome living which were likely to be choaked with weeds if let alone, and diſregarded; I tranſplanted them into better ſoil, leaving the dead ones to themſelves for the fire, or any other uſe, I mattered them not: I conſidered then how gaſtly, and unſeemly the place was, when the living herbs were removed, what a confuſed heap, and worthleſs piece it was, of no profit, pleaſure, or benefit; the thoughts of this ſtrait brought to my minde, that as I had dealt with theſe withering herbs, and flowers, ſo God oftentimes doth by a withering Church, ſome of them he takes into his boſome, others he tranſplants, and findes them a better place, and then roots up the reſt, or reſerves them for the fire, or ſome other judgement; perhaps lets them alone a while to bear a place, and perhaps the name of flowers, till at laſt they are rotten-ripe, and fit for nothing but burning. Thus he preſerved Noah for another plot, which he was about to make, when he deſtroyed the old world, which before was his garden, when the plants were moſt dead: He removed Lot into another ſoil, when he rooted up his garden in Sodom, he would not fence a place for ſo few living herbs, but laid it waſte, and burnt it up; he tranſplanted Abraham from the place of his nativity, and found room by his providence for Iſaac and Jacob, whoſe poſterity he tranſplanted into Egypt, where for a long time they did thrive and proſper; till in the end overrun with weeds briars and thorns, he tranſplanted Iſrael into Canaan, and caſt the Egyptians, thoſe dead and worthleſs plants, thoſe weeds and thorns into the Red-ſea: and ſince that time hath laid waſte many a garden, which formerly did flouriſh, when they withered and decayed; witneſs the ſeven famous Churches of Aſia, mentioned Rev. 2. and 3. chapters, and ſuffereth briars and thorns to overrun the places: I conſidered, that when God removes his own plants either into his boſome, or elſewhere, it is time for the other to look about them, Eſay. 57.1. the righteous periſheth, and no man layeth it to heart, and mercifull men are taken away, none conſidering that the righteous is taken away from the evill to come. When Gods jewels are removed, his care of that place is over; when his flowers are gone, he will pluck up his hedge, and throw down his wall, and let it be eaten up and troden down, he will lay it waſte, it ſhall not be pruned nor digged, and there ſhall come up briars and thorns, and he will command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it, Eſay. 5.5, 6. and how gaſtly doth that place look which is thus fore-let, and forſaken by God? This conſideration made me think, it is time for England to look about them, gray hairs are here and there upon us, yet we conſider it not, Hoſea. 7.9. we may ſee many a withering branch, and dying Chriſtian amongſt us, fetching the laſt gaſp, that formerly ſeemed flouriſhing, fat, and in good liking; when men employ not their talents well, no wonder if God take from them that which they ſeemed to have, this is verified in many that have had freſh and fragrant parts, and gifts, and have formerly excelled others; but theſe parts are withered for want of uſe, and the diligent Chriſtian formerly below them, now excels them, and the unprofitable ſervant is reſerved for utter darkneſs, and how ill favoured do thoſe look that are thus withered? nay, have we not great cauſe to fear God is leaving his garden in England, ſeeing he hath tranſplanted ſo many of his choiſeſt flowers into America, and of late hath taken ſo many into his own boſome, and there are ſo few left that really flouriſh, and ſo many are on the dying hand, and reall holineſs and the power of godlineſs is ſo ſcarce; oh my ſoul, art not thou one of theſe dead, or at leaſt withering plants? art thou fallen from thy firſt love? where are the love of thy eſpouſals, or theſe affections, and the zeal manifeſted in thy younger years? hath thy age encreaſed thy wiſdome? and is that ſeen in growing more ſtrange with thy God, and more luke-warm in his ſervice? and in having leſs care of thy ſoul, and in taking leſs pains for heaven? time was, thou waſt more freſh and flouriſhing, and like to a green bay-tree, but now thou groweſt old and dry, and little ſap and vigour doth appear; is this the fruit of all the pains God hath beſtowed upon thee? is it to make thee more dry and barren? the trees of righteouſneſs planted by the rivers of water, ſhould never want fruit nor leaf, yea, ſhould bring forth fruit to old age: yea, thy fruit in age may be expected to be more, and mellower, ripened by age, and a more mature judgment; thou haſt born the burthen and heat of the day, and wilt thou now quit the vineyard, or ceaſe and ſlack thy work, when thou ſhouldſt come and receive thy wages? if thou turn back, Gods ſoul will have no pleaſure in thee; if thou put thy hand to the plow, and look back, thou art not fit for the kingdom of heaven, neither will thy righteouſneſs be remembred: in thy ſin thou ſhalt dye, thou art ready to go off the Stage of the world, and wilt act thy laſt ſcene worſt, and be hiſt at in the end: wilt thou loſe all the pains that ever thou haſt taken in heavens way, and at laſt remit thy zeal, when thou ſhouldſt double thy diligence? is it not he that holds out to the end that ſhall be ſaved? didſt thou ever yet repent of any pains thou didſt take for heaven? and doſt thou think thou ſhalt ever have cauſe to repent hereafter? art thou affraid thy reward will be too great, or thy crown of glory too heavy? or that God will love thee too well? or that thou ſhalt make heaven too ſure? if not, why doſt thou ſlack thy pace? doſt thou expect a better maſter, or better work, or better wages? if not, take heed by thy negligence, leſt thou force God to put thee out of his ſervice: oh my God, keep my heart upright in thy ſervice, and direct my ſteps that I turn not aſide; keep me from the rage of ſatan, that I be not captivated by him, he ſeeks my ſoul to undo it, and fain would make me loſe my reward; Lord, make me faithfull to the death, and then give me a crown of life.