Lord Deliver Me From Myself.

There Is Music Wherever There Is Harmony, Order And Proportion; And Thus Far We May Maintain The Music Of The Spheres; For Those Well Ordered Motions, And Regular Paces, Though They Give No Sound Unto The Ear, Yet To The Understanding They Strike A Note Most Full Of Harmony.

To Call Ourselves A Microcosme, Or Little World, I Thought It Onely A Pleasant Trope Of Rhetorick, Till My Neare Judgement And Second Thoughts Told Me There Was A Reall Truth Therein: For First Wee Are A Rude Masse, And In The Ranke Of Creatures, Which Only Are, And Have A Dull Kinde Of Being Not Yet Priviledged With Life, Or Preferred To Sense Or Reason; Next We Live The Life Of Plants, The Life Of Animals, The Life Of Men, And At Last The Life Of Spirits, Running On In One Mysterious Nature Those Five Kinds Of Existence, Which Comprehend The Creatures Not Onely Of World, But Of The Universe.

I Have Tried If I Could Reach That Great Resolution . . . To Be Honest Without A Thought Of Heaven Or Hell.

Thus There Are Two Books From Whence I Collect My Divinity; Besides That Written One Of God, Another Of His Servant Nature, That Universal And Public Manuscript, That Lies Expans'd Unto The Eyes Of All; Those That Never Saw Him In The One, Have Discovered Him In The Other.

To Me Avarice Seems Not So Much A Vice As A Deplorable Piece Of Madness.