Londons Resurrection, Discourse 15
DISCOURSE XV.
Upon the looks, and proſpect of London, whilſt but ſome few houſes are built, here and there, and others but building in the midſt of many ruinous heaps.
O London what is thy preſent hue? how many other things art thou like unto at this day? but how unlike thy ſelf? unlike what thou wert, yea unlike what thou art, if we compare one part with another Mulier formoſa ſupernè deſinit in piſcem what a motley, linſey, woolſey, exchequered thing art thou at this day?
One while methinks thou lookeſt like a forreſt in which are ſome tall trees, ſome ſhrubs; ſome meer ſtumps otherwhere, all pluckt up by the roots: or may I not liken thee to an old orchard, in which are ſome trees that have ripe fruit upon them, other have but buds, others but meer bloſſoms, but the greater part are dead, and withered? nor doſt thou leſs reſemble a great common field in which ſome early corn, is at full growth, elſewhere that which was latter ſown, hath yet but peept out of the ground, and very many acres up and down lie quite fallow. We read of the waters of the ſanctuary, how that ſome of them were but to the ancles, others to the knees, others up to the loins, Ezek. 47.4. That it may be was ſucceſſively, but this all at once. Thus in a family where are many children, ordinarily, there are ſome at the eſtate of men and women, ſome boyes and girles, ſome infants, and ſome (one or more) that are yet but in the mothers womb.
Is London a village that I ſee the houſes in it ſtand ſo ſcatteringly, and at ſo great a diſtance one from another? ſcarce enough together to make that number which is ſaid to make a conventicle. 1. Having been degraded for a while, muſt it commence a village before it commence a City? As in a throughfare village, ſtanding upon a great road, moſt houſes are Inns, or Alehouſes to entertain ſtrangers, ſo may we obſerve that the major part of houſes built upon the ruines; are let out to Alehouſe-keepers and Victuallers to entertain workmen imployed about the City.
How eaſily doth the preſent condition of London bring France to mind, where a middle ſort of people are ſcarce to be found, but all are ſaid to be either Princes, (as it were) or Peaſants, Gentlemen, or ſlaves. Our ſtately-houſes may ſerve for an emblem of the former, our ruinous heaps of the latter; or one may repreſent the flouriſhing papiſts in that Country, and the other the oppreſſed Hugonites, they and their Churches, lying together in aſhes.
Would I give ſcope to phantaſy I could adde that London now looks like Euclids Elements, or ſome ſuch books, in which are all ſorts of ſchemes and figures, as ſtraight lines, crooked lines, triangles, quadrangles, hexangles, and what not? or like a book of Anatomy, full of cuts repreſenting in one page the ſhape of a head, in another of an arm, in a third of a legg, &c. So in one place there is as it were the head, or beginning of a ſtreet, in another place the feet (or end thereof) by its ſelf, elſewhere the arm, or breaſt, or belly of a ſtreet, (the middle I mean) ſtanding all alone.
A goodly uniformity there is in ſo much of it as is built together, but ruines and confuſion round about it, which repreſents it like a beautiful face ſtuck with black patches, which is very lovely, ſo far as it is ſeen, but all the reſt is uglineſs, and deformity, manifeſt pride, and concealed beauty.
Neither is London at this day unlike the month of April (in which I am writing this) conſiſting of quick viciſſitudes of rain, and ſunſhine, one part of the Heavens ſmiling, another frowning and lowring. So one part of the ſtreet ſmiles upon us (almoſt throughout the ruines) but the reſt of it frowneth, and looks ghaſtly. If we compare it to one that is riſing out of his ſepulchre; it muſt be to one that hath his grave cloaths about him, for ſo hath London.)
But when all is ſaid London at this day repreſents nothing more then our own diviſions, together with the ill effects and conſequences thereof.
For firſt of all, is it not unquoth, and doleſome, to live in houſes that ſtand at ſuch a diſtance one fom another? (Some of them like a cottage in a garden of cucumbers) How much more pleaſant was it, and would it be again, to be ſurrounded with neighbours on every ſide: To ſuch an unquoth, ſolitary and unpleaſant condition have our diviſions brought us. Methinks the depth and dead of winter, when the nights are tediouſly long, the weather raw and cold, the wayes wet and dirty; and almoſt impaſſable, when the trees are bald and bare, both of fruit and leaves, and when the earth hath put off all its ornaments, and is as it were in its night dreſs, or morning weeds, doth not more fall ſhort of that pleaſurableneſs and delightfulneſs that is in a delicate ſpring, or gallant ſummer, when the earth is full of all that may gratifie both our ſight, ſent and palate: when deckt like a bride, when crowned with the goodneſs of God, than a time of diviſions, and diſſentions, doth in point of comfortableneſs, fall ſhort of theſe times in which Chriſtians and fellow Cittizens have been all (or generally) of one heart, if not of our mind, Pſ. 133.1. Behold how pleaſant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity? The diviſions of England now (as they of Reuben in former time) do they not cauſe ſad thoughts of heart?
That houſes in London ſtand ſo ſcatteringly, as now they do, is (if I be not miſtaken) not more unpleaſant, than unſafe. By this their ſingle ſtation they are more obnoxious to the impreſſions of wind and weather, which now have opportunity to play on every ſide of them, which when guarded (as formerly) by houſes, on one, or both ſides, and poſſibly behind alſo, could not be done: not to conceal the other part of their danger: many of thoſe lone houſes ſeem to lye at the mercy of theeves, and robbers, whoſe mercies are known to be cruelties) and I doubt not but many in that regard are afraid to dwell in the houſes, which themſelves have built, till others ſhall come to dwell by them.
So inſecure do our diviſions render us, and the diſtance at which we keep, one from another, whilſt it is ſo with us, we may much more eaſily be carried about with every mind of doctrine, and by the ſlight of men, and cunning craftineſs, whereby they lye in walt to deceive. Scattered ſhips are much more eaſily taken by Pirats, or enemies, than is a whole fleet that rides together; and a ſmall family (or a piece of one) is ſooner rob'd, than a family that is intire, great and numerous; Divide & impera, divide them and rule them, was an old maxime, divided we are, and now our enemies hope to rule over us. Our religion is our great treaſure, and doubtleſs there are theeves that hope to break in, and ſteal it from us, now they ſee us dwell alone (as it were) I mean in reference to our diſſentions.
Neither is it more unquoth and unſafe, than it is unprofitable, for Citizens to dwell by themſelves, or only two or three, or ſome few more families, in one and the ſame ſtreet: Few expect to have any conſiderable Trade within the Walls (ſo far as the Ruines did extend) till the City be built again, either all, or moſt of it; and therefore though they have built houſes for themſelves, in thoſe parts of London which were, and will be moſt conſiderable, as Cheapſide, &c. yet do they refrain to go to them, till their Neighbourhood be encreaſed, and others, to a conſiderable number, have built near them, as expecting but few Cuſtomers, and ſmall dealings, till that be done.
So fatal have our diviſions, and the diſtance at which we have ſtood one from another, I ſay ſo fatal have they been to us in point of Trade and profit, as the remoteneſſe and ſcattering of houſes, one from another, would probably be to thoſe that ſhould attempt a Trade in houſes ſo remore and ſcattered. Diviſions, and decay of Trade began together, and have proceeded together; as diviſions grew greater, trading hath grown leſſe; as more backwardneſſe hath appeared, as unto uniting Proteſtants one with another, they ſay a ſenſible damp hath come upon Trade, not unlike thoſe damps which ariſe in Cole-pits, which put out their lights, and ſometimes ſtifle the workmen. And on the other hand, any hope given us, as if our breaches ſhould be healed, and our differences com-primiſed, hath been to Trade as a ſudden reſurrection from the dead, as if peace and union, concord and quietneſſe, one with another, were the Sun, Trade, and Traffique, the Heliotrope, or Mary-gold, which did open and ſhut, according as that Sun did either riſe or ſet, ſhine or forbear to ſhine upon it: That ſaying of Solomon is but too applicable to trade and commerce, as well as in other caſes: How can two walk together unleſs they be agreed? at leaſtwiſe ſo far agreed they muſt be, as not to moleſt, and diſturb, each other.
It is methinks an ill proſpect, and a gaſtly ſight, for thoſe that look from the Belconies, or tops of their ſtately new houſes, to ſee aſhes, and ruinous heaps on every ſide of them, to ſee ten private houſes (beſides Churches and publick Halls) in the duſt, for one that is raiſed again. This might be a pleaſing ſpectacle to a perſon of an evil eye, that is, to one that were full of envy (for ſuch people will be miſerable if others be happy) and count it a happineſs to themſelves to ſee others miſerable:) But he that hath put on Bowels as the elect of God, and knows how to mourn with them that mourn, will but half enjoy his own houſe (how goodly ſoever) whilſt ſo many of his neighbours lie waſte about it.
Have not our Diviſions brought England into the ſame caſe with London, and made us like-City, like-Nation? Though here, and there, a Family hath wealth enough and to ſpare (whom I may compare to the fine houſes which are built here, and there one, upon the ruines of London) yea though ſome have fiſhed notably in troubled waters, and made all the rivers which ran in ſeveral channels to pay tribute to their Sea, I mean inriched themſelves by the help and advantage of other mens diviſions, and diſſatisfactions, yet it is far otherwiſe with the greater part of the Nation, the generallity of which are brought to a morſel of bread (I mean to great and deplorable poverty) Landlords not able to live without their rents, tenants not able to pay them, tradeſmen not able to ſubſiſt by their callings, many left without callings to ſubſiſt by, and all theſe latter ſorts of men are pourtrayed to the life in and by thoſe houſes, (and thoſe the major part) which do yet lye in duſt and aſhes; they by reaſon of the late material fire, but the former by reaſon of a more immaterial fire, viz. of Strife and Contention not extinguiſhed to this day.
We have not yet done with comparing the preſent caſe of London for want of more things to compare it to: We might farther liken it to the firſt World, when but a day or two, of Creation-work had paſſed upon it. It was then no perfect Chaos, neither was it a perfect World. Or I might liken it to the firſt appearance of a ſecond World, after the firſt was drowned. Is not London ſuch a thing as that was, where ſome high trees, and high mountains began to ſhew themſelves, here and there; but all the reſt continued under water? So gradually and leiſurely, doth our City riſe.
But ſuch ſhall not be the reſurrection of the Juſt, for they ſhall not riſe one by one but (ſemel & ſimul) all together, 1 Cor. 15.52. In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye at the laſt trump, the dead ſhall be raiſed, and we ſhall be changed. We which are alive and remain to the coming of the Lord ſhall not prevent them which are aſleep, we which are alive ſhall be caught up together with them in the clouds. 1 Theſ. 4.15, 17.
And now methinks I have done by London, as people uſe to do by young children, whoſe looks are yet come to no ſetledneſs, or conſiſtence. Some cry they are like the Fathers; others, that they are like the Mother; others again that they are like this or that kinſman, or kinſwoman. I have likened it to very many things, and ſurely it hath ſome reſemblance of every of them. But when ſhall we ſee it like its ſelf again? or every where, like what it now is, ſo far as it is now its ſelf? Here, and there, ſomething is hatcht: but for the moſt part, London is but as an Egge, that we hope may be hatcht in time. It looks much worſe than it did before the fire, but yet much better than it did preſently after the fire: ſo that it gives us occaſion to ſing both of Judgment and mercy.
Seeing ſo mixt a face of London, as now I do, ſome little part thereof ſo lovely as it is; the reſt ſo lamentable; I can do no leſs than purſue it with my moſt earneſt prayers, that as the corrupted bodies of believers, ſhall one day be conformed to their incorruptible Souls, and not their immortal Souls ever made like to their mortal bodies, and as the Church militant ſhall hereafter be made glorious, as that which is now Triumphant, but the Triumphant Church never conformed in ſufferings to that which is militant; ſo the ruinous part of London, may in Gods good time, become ſuch as that which is now moſt beautiful; but the beautiful beginnings thereof (in ſpight of all that wiſh it) may never become ruinous.