THere be seauen Artes whose Principles are principallye learned and practized of volup­tuous liuers: the art of dissem­bling, the Arte of blaspheming: the arte of deceiuing: the art of flattering: the arte of disdaining: the arte of lo­uing: the arte of dicing: seuen heades of Hydra, seuen lewde sisters, and se­uen illiberall artes, not worthie the name of artes, fith their best profes­sors are the baddest men: & they are so much better in their artes, by how much they ar worse in their maners: being therefore impudent, because in vanitie they are arteficial: and there­fore vaine, because in their arts they are impudent. These be not the Mu­ses inuentions, because they are con­ioyned with great dishonestie, & haue a ranke smell of a lothsome impietie: these be y^e daughters of lady pleasure, [Page] nestled in Pandoras boxe, and sent [...] like Harpaies ouer the face of y^e earth, to take away from vs our wholsome foode, and with their owne dunge to defile [...]ur trenchers, being throughly instructed of Circe to change men in­to beastes, mens mindes into brutish appetites, mens inuentions into foo­lish dreames, and the reason of man into a brutish passion. Circe drinketh of these pottes to the worldlings, that thirst after pleasures: but vertue hath made a wall of partition betwixt the pottes of Circe, & the mouthes of the vertuous: betwixt these Panther-like odoures, and the nostrelles of her fol­lowers: betwixt these Cupids coun­terfeyting Ascanius, and the closette of their mindes in whome vertue is resident. There is greate difference betwixt Apollo his Schole, & an olde wiues Cottage, betwéen the Temple of vertue, & the Theater of pleasure. Pleasure hath sent abroad not long a­go thr [...] pretious works, and three de­lightful cōments: the court of Venus, the Castle of fancy, & the Paradice of pleasure: books in which, ther is much [Page] wit, and little vertue: whose ripeness [...] heretofore, the frequent vse in former times, did sufficiently argue: whose rottennesse at this present, is by the v­niuersall loathing and surfet of those that before were delighted with them aboundantly testified. This is the property of a voluptuous minde, when it is ful gorged with honny, to cast it vp like galle: & therefore it seemeth that pleasures iunkets would not haue turned into any good blood, or wholesome nourishment. Diuers Poets haue written for delight, but they haue also written for profite: but many of their readers being inchanted by pleasures, haue from their flowers gathered poi­son like the spider, not honny like the Bee: whereas contrariwise, the well meaning mindes haue of these flow­ers made soueraign preseruatiues: let y^e Troyan history be deliuered to a so­ber, wise, & discreet scholler, he reapes much honny, much delight, much cō ­moditie by the reading thereof: if he be examined what is the sentēce, sub­stance, marrow, & iuce of that history? he wil answer wisely & sincerely.

But if the sence and signification of that historie be demaunded of some delicate stripling, of some Ouidiā A­contius, an intēperate youngman, an impure spider,Ouid in Epi. Acont. Non sum qui soleam pari­di [...] reprehen­dere factum. Nec quem­que qui vir possit vt esse fuit. & a second Catiline: he wil answere boldely, briefly, & badly.

Beholde what aboundance of poyson, what store of galle, what dregs of fil­thinesse this spider sucketh out of the flowers of this historie, with gréedye & vncōsecrate lips. First, he gathereth that the loue of Paris was not to bee reprehended: next, that al they which imitate the woeing of Paris are men: they are men I graunt in name, but in nature, they are lecherous goates, and rutting Leopards: But as Alex­ander the greate, did then most of all tearme himselfe a God, when he was most estranged frō God, namely whē hee was drunken: so these Acontij, these s [...]ctators of Paris, these men doe then especially boast of their māhood, [Page] whē they become most brutish: what thanks therefore, and what sufficient glorie can be rendred to vertue, that preserueth her scholers from such pe­stilent poysons, and such froth of vi­ces, by godly admonitions, graue preceptes, and solemne institutes? perswading them by sound reasons, whereof euery one is as strong as A­chilles, that an history is not as it is taken of the voluptuous, the trumpet of Cupid, and the kalender of Venus: but the library of knowledge, the vn­souldresse of treacherye, the lanterne of pollicy, y^e doctresse of behauiour, the register of antiquity, the glasse of iu­stice: But when y^e voluptuous know the bent of pleasures bow, her browe I would say, they are ready with full saile, & swift course to try these waies that pleasure hath chalked out & pre­scribed vnto them, spending all their rents, reuenues & reuersions vpon the seruantes of Bacchus, vpon pur­pled Apes, painted beggers, coun­terfaiting R [...]scij Graduates in the Epicures Schoole, horseleeches of money, the dogges of Verres, the [Page] bloodhoundes of Fortune, which ran­sacke euerie corner for coyne, ha­uing apte noses for the smelling of Golde and Siluer, and when they are instructed and lessoned by such hun­gry Gnatoes, professors of all impudē ­cie, and practisers of all impiety, they are matriculated, and nursed in these delightes, in which, none are conuer­sant but Venusses pullets and Neroes whelps, politike, delicate, gallant ten­derlings, which are fast linked to ple­sure, and vse her at their lust, but they knowe not her disease, they know not her companion, they knowe not her sauce. Her disease is impuritie, her cō ­panion is penaltie, her sauce is sor­row: they may for a while sing those Caroles y^t Penelopes woers did sing, wresting the sweetnesse of their Cy­tharne, to the losse of their time, & their owne disprofite: as Horace reporteth of certaine young men which were wonte to sléepe till midday, and Ad strepitū cytharae cessatū ducere curā. By sound of harpe, to bring their cares to rest.

But this dittye will be closed vppe with a dumpe.

The pleasure is nought that is bought with payne. Horat. Epistola [...]. lib. 1. This I doe not speake to dis­proue the delightfull harmony of mu­sike, which I accompt most commen­dable, but to glaunce at the idle life of luxurious personnes, whose eares are continually fedde with the hearing of such soundes. Orpheus his harp is not to be dispraised, which did draw men frō death to life, but y^e foulers whistle is not to be heard, which allureth the hearers to the snares of death, & y^e pit of destructiō: Euterpes pipe deserueth audience, because it is the pipe of one of the Muses: but the pipe of Leucosia is to bee debarred from our eares, be­cause the piper is a Syren: the harpe of Achilles sounded with grauity, and was a kinde of motiue to the war­like courage: but on the effeminate harpe of Paris, nothing was played but amatorious sonnets, and ridicu­lous Iigges. Poetrie in former times made a progresse through the worlde, being desirous to heare the soundes of the Instrumentes, that in those dayes were vsed, and beeing [Page] accompaned with the nine Muses, she listned to their melodye, shee hearde Pan puffing on a reed: the Arcadians creaking with whistles: Triton ro­ring with a shell, in steede of a trum­pette: the shepheardes of Scithia, winding an oaten strawe: she heard the Coribants tinckling on their bra­sen Basons: shee hearde the Moena­des shouting in the aire with a clamarous bellowing: Poetrie partlye ta­king pittie, & partlye being ashamed of this deformed and barbarous mu­sike, gaue to mankinde, for the pipe of Pan, the histories of Clio: for the whistles of the Arcadians, the trage­dies of Melpomene: for Tritons shel, the Cōmedies of Thalia: for the shep­heards oaten strawe, the pipe of Eu­terpe: for the brasse of the Coribants, y^e harp of Therpsicore: for y^e howling of the Moenades, the verses of Calli­ope: which she did not bestowe in cō ­sideration of the Epicures fansie, nei­ther to inchaunt y^e mindes of lasciui­ous persons with a senceles securitie, neither did she make thē y^• idle mans Ephemerides, whereby he might de­ceiue [Page] the long & irksome time, the redēp­tion of which, cannot by any value bee procured.

The losse of which, if it were throughly cōsidered, would make vs loath our stale musike in comparison of the sweet soun­ding melodie of time: which is the re­porter of things most desired, the Corner of trueth, whose descāt, though it be som­what crabbed, yet, that to which we ap­ply our attendance, we wish shoulde ra­ther be true, then forged: rather a matter of certainty, then a flying fable. But the secure & voluptuous Epicure careth not for this aduātage of time, so he may rest himselfe in his Ladies lappe, and haue his eares throughly tickled with a musi­call concordance: he is content that the circle of the Sun should be rouled back­ward & forward, so that he continue still in iolitie, without anye interruption of his pleasures: Scilicet hoc est viuere: but when the date of his time is almost expi­red, & arriued at the point, from which it took y^e beginning, then he stādeth bouud before the tribunall seat of time, and he [Page] thus accuseth him: vnfruitfull sluggard didst thou wake or sleep all thy life time? If thou didst wake, what worke haste thou left behinde thée either visible to the eie or memorable to the minde? where be the monuments of thy labours? wher be the gaines of thy trauailes? where are the fruites of thy life? If thou didst sleep, and thy actions were only a dream, that dreame was a passion but of action: thou hast not a print to shewe, but that thou mayest sée the bounty and riches of time: awake out of thy sléepe, wash thine eies, and thou shalte clearelye beholde what opportunities haue escaped thee. Thou seest on thy right hand, the fieldes into the which thou didst wander some­time, but I alway presuppose as in a dreame: thou didst there onely suruay the colours of flowers, thinking perhaps of the transmutation of them into flow­ers, whom the panges of loue did con­sume: thou didst rest on the gréene grasse as on a cushion, hauing a minde so dead and destitute of the intellectuall facultie, that thou didst hide and burie thy selfe vnder the shadowes of trées: not know­ing that the gréene Liceum was the [Page] Schole of the Peripatetikes, and Vm­brifera Academia, the Schoole of the A­cademikes: but thou, wishing that all thy body were changed into an eye, like Argus, that thou mightest all thy lyfe time, haue nothing els but coloures in veiwe, or els wishing that all thy bo­dye were made a nose, as Catullus desi­red, that thou mightest spende [...] all thie daies in smelling to the fragrant flow­ers, and perfuming hearbes, didst make a pause in these fancies: if thou haddest bended thine eies but a litle from these these things, thou mightest haue espied y^e seely Ant or Pismire, of wich thou migh­test haue learned to haue takē paines, to haue liued by thy pains, to haue reioyced after thy paines: to haue takē paines by seeing thē martch in the pathway to the fieldes for their sustenāce, carrying their burthens on their shoulders, hastning & returning w^t great spéed, notwithstāding the great waight: to haue liued by thy paines, by séeing thē to be so carefull of y^e nipping winter, hurding vp the corne in the graniers, piling it in the barnes, cut­ting it into partes, y^t it maynot grow: to haue reioiced after thy paines, in that thou hast preuēted the sharpnes of hūger [Page] and in that thou hast sufficient to satisfie natures demand: but look what shineth ouer thy head, the glistering heauen, the starrie firmament, which thou didst ga­ther to be nothing els then the candle­sticke of the world, made to none other end, then to giue light, & to discouer the dennes of Moldwarpes in the earth: not considering that by the accesse, & depar­ture of the Sun, things increase and de­crease: that by the waine and full of the Moone, the Sea ebs and flowes: that by the particular influence of particular Starres, such and such alterations are framed in the earth: the diuers motions and effectes of those causes, might haue led thée by the hand, to the first mouer, in whose ample gouernment of all things, thou mightest haue hadde a bottomlesse consideration of pearelesse value, that would hane stirred vp an admiration in thy minde, admiration would haue cau­sed inquisition, & inquisition would haue engendred knowledge: which wold haue bene a great ornament vnto thée, and a great [...]urtherāce to further matters: but now that thou art ignoraunt, blame not me, wrich haue often giuē thée warning to call thy wittes together: When thou [Page] wast tending from youth to manhoode, [...] drewe lines in thy visage, which signifi­ed, that thy life did waste: and by them I writ vpon thy face, the seconde age: when, from manhood thou wast twining to old age, thy den [...]s and riueled chéeks, thy toothlesse chaps, thy white and hoary heares▪ I sent as messengers vnto thee, wherby I foreshewed the third age, that was approching: now therefore, blush at thine owne sluggishnesse, be ashamed of thy lingring, and sith there be no signes or lineaments, of former knowledge in thee, I propose thy dotage as a spectakle to be laughed at. This sharpe reprehen­sion may perhappes, leaue prickles in the mindes of sluggards, but the remorse quickly vanisheth. Icarus doth not feare his fall, til the greatest part of his wings be melted, and his bodie do kisse the face of the water: but of all the knowledge that ouerpasse them, the misticall know­ledge of their saluation being hidden frō their eies, & debarred from their hartes: is with a whole Ocean of teares to bee lamented, if out of a Flinte any water may be wrested. It may be comprehen­ded in two lines, and yet the fleshlie E­picure [Page] could not afforde halfe an howers study to the repetition and rehearsal of it in his minde,1 Timoth. cap. 3. that it might be a perpetu­all monumēt imprinted in his memory: God did appear in the flesh, was iustified in the spirite, was séen of Angels, was preached to nations, was beléeued in the worlde, was receiued in glorie. This be­ing perfectly had w^tout booke, wold haue bene a soueraign retentiue frō the lustes of the flesh: but pleasure, being a swéet & flattering Enchauntresse, doth smoothlie insinuate her self into the mindes of mē, & there dwelleth as Helena dwelt in the Citty of Troy: who pleased the Troyans but to theire miserye: whoe soung de­lightfully, but was too delightfully hard: for the honny of words, is a poison to the heart: & a swéet sound in the a [...]re, is a Si­ren in the eare: Thus it is euident that the study or exercise wherunto voluptu­tuous & effeminate persons, do wholy addict thēselues, is nothing els but y^e whet­stone of vanity, the mistres of misdeme­nour, & cossin germane to idlenes. Nowe it remaineth to be discussed, what other abuses they haue in the cōmon course of their life.Salust in coniur. Salust did generally discribe y^e [Page] gluttony of delicate trēchermen, whē he did particularly discipher the inordinate appetite of the Romanes: the Romanes (saith he) to satisfye their bellies, sought out al thinges y^t could be found either in sea, or on the earth: they did not tarry til hunger or thirst ouertook thē, but they did preuēt these by an arteficial appetite: be­fore the diluge, the onely treasure on the earth was wine, the people did eate and drinke, maried & gaue in mariage, rise vp to play, and vsed all kinde of dalliance e­uen vntill the daye wherein the win­dowes of Heauen were opened vpon them, till the waters had oueflowed and disfigured the earth, that the very shard of a drinking cuppe could not be séene in the worlde: It is a verye vnnaturall thing that the belly béeing made by na­ture, a place of excrements, shoulde bee made an Idol: but it is a greater shame that the Idoll of the beastlie Cyclops shoulde be made a God to Christians, which the true GOD will at the length confounde, together with all them also that make it a God.

It is straunge to sée the appetite of man: that whereas beasts are contented [Page] with that food which nature hath appointed for them, and take no more thereof, then that quantity which nature hath a­lotted vnto them: man should so far sur­passe the limits of reason, and reuerence due to nature: that with an vnsatiable desire he followeth those things, which are discommodious, pernitious, and pestilent vnto him. And although in the kinde of beasts, the Lion is most i [...]cōtinent, most rauenous, and gréedy of his pray: and be [...]ide this,Aristot. lib de Histor. animalium. 8. cap. 5. hath ā excessiue appetite, which cannot be stanched without great super­fluitie of nourishmēt: yet for the space of thrée daies, or at the least two two daies after, he is fully satisfied: & the Wolues when they are gaunted with hunger, do eat rather earth and clay, then they will violentlie rush vpon the beastes of their owne kinde.Ioseph Ben Gord. This abstinence is greater then Mirianis, who though she were of singular behauiour amongst the Iewes, yet could not abstain from gnawing the bones of her owne childe: and man to augment the gréedy worm whereof he is possessed, doth inuent and vse daily, sau­ces, sirupes, brothes, mixtures: that may pricke his stomacke forwarde, to craue [Page] more then it may well containe,Iohn Baptist Gello incite [...] wherby there ariseth such superfluitye, and such superabundance of naughty humours in the bodie, that there bee more then fiftie kindes of diseases ingendred in the eies: and by such varietye of tastes, wee are prouoked to drinke so much, that a great nūber of diseases: as Catarres, rewmes, swellinges, goutes, dropsies, doe shake the foundation of our healthe, and the whole frame of our bodie, and if the bo­dy were only cloyd with the inconueni­encies that arise of surfeiting, the riot of banquets, were more tollerable and lesse reprouable: but sith Corpus onustum Hesternis vitijs, Horat. animū quò (que) praegrauat ipsum. The bodie stuft with hosterne cates, doth ouercharge the minde.

Our trenchers are to be washed with our teares, our tables whereat we sitte drinking, beluing, and carousing, are to be accounted engines and snares, laid by the deuils subtiltie, to intrap our soules: our costly viandes are to be accompted the lures of gluttonie: our musicall and swéete sounding instruments which are prepared to make the minde more cheer­full and frollicke: are no better to bee e­steemed [Page] then alluring Sirens, which eate them whom they delight, and kill them with their téeth, whom they haue called with their tongues. It were infinite to number the greate mishappe that hath chaunced, & the outragious crueltie that hath bin committed, after that the minde hath bene ouercast with the miste or ex­halation that riseth from the stomacke surcharged with delicates. The Cittie of the Troyans was drowned in wine, be­fore it was burnt by fire: Hierusalem was ouerflowen of gluttonie and drun­kennesse, before it was ouerrun of the Romanes and Turkes: the Aegiptians were not so much ouercom'd by armed men, [...]irgil [...]eneid▪ 1 as by the banquettes of Cleopatra: Catiline did besiege Rome with a troope of pleas [...]res, before he did threaten it w^t an army of souldiers: Dido was first inchanted of Liber Pater, before she was bewitched of the boy Cupid: Nero was filled with the wines of Campania before he was poysoned w^t the counsail of Ani­cetus, & ther was in his stomack a flood of Nectar, before ther was Furor in mente or Ferrū in manu: y^e principal cause why y^e Persians were enemies to the Lidians, [Page] was because of the good cheere that they found iu Lidia. Herod o [...]. lib. 1. Now if any man thinke that the mind being a substance immateriall cannot be infected by any contagiō procéeding frō the body, he shal perceiue his iudgement to be erronious, both by cause, & by example: the soule I graunte might liue-like an angell in the body, & it doth as yet shine in the corporall lumpe, but tanquam coelum in coeno. Like an hea­uen in a dunghill. It is so nigh the bankes and borders of this earthly Tabernacle: nay, it is so inclosed within the walles & gates thereof that it must of necessitie be defiled with the dust that ariseth within the walles: but to finde out the reason I will vse a very briese discourse, which notwithstanding, shall carrye some taste of Philosophie. There be some thinges that belong to the soule alone, as reason, meditation, reminiscence: some thinges to the bodie alone, as heauinesse, aug­mentation, diminution, and that strēgth which the Latines call Robur, the Grae­cians Ischus One thinge there is which is common both to the soule and the bo­dy, and that is, Appetitus or vis con­cupiscentiae, The appetite or force of con­cupiscence which being an ambidexter or [Page] parasite both to the soule & body, inueag­leth the soule by the senses of the body, & deceiueth y^e body by the liking of y^e soule: for, when the minde hath made y^e maior proposition of the sillogisme: Whatsoeuer is pleasant and sweet, is to be liked of: the bodie by the force & vertue of y^e senses, maketh the minor proposition: (Dainty cheare is pleasant and sweet,) the appetite doth straight­way conclude: Ergo, Dainty cheare is to be liked off. the natural & carnal mā, hauing learned this lesson, triūpheth in his own conceit, & is both waies bent, either to cō fute y^e Stoicke, or defend y^e Epicure. but y^e modest & wel iudging mind, can make a distinction of pleasant thinges, as also of pleasure: there is a pleasure that is, Dulcis & decocta, Sweet and liquid, which melteth as soone as it féeleth the heat of y^e mouth, & is digested as soone as it is de­uoured: so that being not able to abide y^e stamp of y^e téeth, it is rather to be accoū ­ted superfluous drosse, thē substātial met­tel. Ther is another plesure: y^• is, Auste­ra & solida, Sincere and sound: which though it be not as pleasant as spice, yet it is as necessary as salte, & though it do not slide through the bodye as through a conduite, [Page] yet it descendeth into the minde as y^• euening shower into the caues of the earth: the true pleasure is neither painted with colours, nor blanched w^t cookery, neither sod in a pot, nor roasted on a spit, but the dew thereof droppeth from heauen, & the fruitefull effectes thereof are euident to the view of euery Christian cogitation. Now that we haue shewed the reason of this Simpathy: it remaineth that some examples be sent for to illustrate this treatise: to know therefore, that the diet of the body doth leaue some colour, & im­pression in the minde, consider y^e diet and dispositiō of y^• Gothes, & Tartarians, who because they are [...]ed with mans bloode, & drink the gore of their ancestors, in the skuls of their ancestors: are therfore cru­ell, vnmercifull, & sauage: thirsting after mans bloode, and sucking at the skin for blood, as the childe at his mothers dugs for milke. The Parthians that licke wa­ter like dogges, are couragious in war­fare, & no whit effeminate: the Turkes measuring, & deuiding their cōmons by waight and ballance, haue their wit and magnanimitye fresh against the furie of the enemies▪ but the Indians because [Page] they are continually nourished with spi­res, which kind of nourishment▪ is verie slender: therfore they are melsh hearted, fearful, & fugitiue, to whom I may rightly compare the men of Saba, which countrey is very fruitful of sumptuous deli­cates, but very barren of good souldiers: like vnto these are the Agrigutini, whose mindes, whether prosperity flatter, or aduersity threatē, are continually in Pati­nis: the ancient Britons are reported to haue bin very valiant & victorio [...]s, [...]ion in vita Neronis but they are also reported to haue liued very hardly, to haue vsed roots for their bread, hearbes for their meat, the rawe iuice of wilde fruites for their oyle, water for wine, trées for houses, & y^• foggy vapors of fennish groundes, for the smell of per­fumes. And geuerally it is alwaies seene y^• in the coldest Climates & frozen Alpes which afforde no banquetting cheere, the best souldiers haue giuē a notise of their valiant courage. Now when the belly is wel warmed with swéet iunkets, then Venus spreadeth a delightful carpet, vn­to which the eie and affection giue a dili­gent attendance, the mind beginneth to burn in lust▪ & to make excursion beyond the limits of reason: Solomon who had [Page] had experience of both, affirmeth y^• same. Look not vpon wine (saith he) when it glittereth and the colour therof shineth in a glasse: Prouerb. 23. it goeth in with delight, but in the end it wil bite like a snake, & like the [...]cockatrice it wil sprinkle poisō Thus far of glottony: but how doth Ve­nery follow, Thine eies (saith Solomon) shal behold strange women, and thy heart shall vtter peruerse things, thou shalt be like one that sleepeth in the midst of the sea, and like a sleepie gouernour hauing lost the healme. Sith ther­fore by the iudgemēt of this King, whose minde was ful fraught with wisedome: these two instruments, made of the deuil to seduce men from good behauiour to E­ [...]icurisme, are linked & conioyned. Mise­ [...]able is y^e state of these, y^• make pleasure the mother of these two) their Goddesse, [...] think no life happy, vnlesse it be swéet­ [...]ed w^t the sugured iuice of a carnal dele­ [...]ation, y^e seek for heauen in the center of [...]ell, & care not how brutish they become, [...]o they be not couered with the hides & [...]orns of beasts: but let him that mindeth [...]o sée good daies, & followe Christe (which ought to be y^• principal profession of chri­stiās) make a couenāt w^t his eies & eares frō beholding & hearing of vanity: when the epicures banquet is as bitter to our tast as gall, & the swéet sauour of fragrāt [Page] pouders as lothsome as y^• hēlock, then is an arriual made at y^• hauē of christian security, thē are we entred into y^• straight way which is indéed a large field of hap­pinesse. But yet when we haue attayned this many incūbrāces wil be apposed a­gainst our quietnes, and the better our stats is, the more is the deuils enuy and hatred: but this must not discomfort vs. None can climbe to the toppe of heauen w^tout sweating: & God (as Plato sayth) selleth his benefits for labour and trauaile. Wée must consider that the worlde will neuer cease to be deceitfull, the deuill ne­uer to be malitious, and the flesh wil ne­uer intermit his combat & conflicte with the spirit, as long as we are in this pain­full pilgrimage. We must suffer the blu­stering tempest of aduersitie, the sharpe edge of temptation, and the fiery dartes of the deuil, we fight against powers and principalities, and therfore may be woū ­ded, if not ouercome. Our affections may become perfidious vnto vs, betraying vs to our enemies, and therefore being in daunger both of forraine and of domesti­call foes: we had néed to be very vigilant & circumspect, least conspiracy accoōplish that, which violēce could not bring to pas [Page] When a Christian is besieged with temptation,Iacob. 1. let him reioyce, for the Lorde proueth before hee approoueth, and trieth before he trusteth, whom he loueth them he chastiseth, and his gold is tryed in the middest of the furnace. If we may obtaine glory by victory, then we must fight to obtaine the vic­tory. No man is crowned before he o­uercommeth, and no man ouercōmeth but hee that lawfully striueth, let him think as he is prouoked to fight, so hee may be prouoked to a crowne of glory. Yea, one can not misse of the promoti­on, vnlesse he willingly forsake it: his hart cannot faint, his strength cannot fayle, except he wyll. To be willing to fight, is to fight couragiously, and as long as that will continueth, God will countenaunce that courage. O the ex­céeding felicitye of a Christian manne, whose onely wyll béeing directed by Gods will, is more pearceable then stéele, and more impenetrable then the strong Rocke, whose wishe atchiueth the victorye, and whose victorye is far beyonde his wyshe. If wee suruey the affaires of the world, we shall find that [Page] there is no lucre so vile, nor any gayne so grosse, but ere wee can compasse it, we muste stretch ioyntes and sinewes, we must sweate and breath, vse restles and endles laboure, which when it is purchased, vanisheth like a smokie ex­halation, and like a bubble in the wa­ter, riseth and faleth in an instant. The Merchant man thinketh himself a Mo­narche, and vaunteth of his increase, when after a tenne yeeres nauigation after a thousand discommodities, daun­gers and disaduantages, he hath gotten a little more treasure then hee had be­fore.

The Souldier when he hath tasted the bitter fruites of warfare, when he hath worne his bodie, altered hys com­plexiō, diminished his health, lost some principall member of hys bodie, howe large soeuer his stipend bee, yet he is like a dead Truncke that hath lost the brauerie of his boughes. In séeking the fauour of noble men, in getting and reteyning the frendship of equalles, in the ambitious labouring for honours and dignities, in y^• whording of coyne, and scraping of commoditie, in closing [Page] and disclosing, digging and deluing, turning areable into pasturable, and pa­sturable into areable, woodes into wa­stes, and wastes into woodes, in buil­ding and battering, in turning square into round, and triangles into quadrangles, is such an infinite labour, and a world of busines, that he which waigh­eth in a ballance bothe the care and the commoditie, shall find an ounce of com­moditye for a pounde of care, and hee that putteth these thinges in practise, shall lyke a peruerse Al [...]umist, distill a pennie out of a portague. Therefore let him that mindeth to be a true Christian, despise these transitory, corrupti­ble and contemptible things, for which the worldly myzer giueth no truste to his eyes, hath the byrdes of the ayre in suspition, feareth least his owne be­hauiour doo bewray his base and bar­barous affections. Let him erecte and life vp his mind to the celestiall and di­uine solaces, which neither eye hath séene, nor eare hath heard, nor the hart of man is able to imagine, to the pursu­ing of which, the mindes of worldly Mammonistes are slowe footed, droo­ping [Page] and continually dreaming of the eternitie of their barnes, when the ve­ry Weasels before their eyes doo de­uoure theyr corne, and euen against theyr wylles they are drawne of God to heauenly and spirituall things: vp­on which they looke as Cerberus looked vpon the sunne, when he was drawne out of hell, verie straungly & vn [...]thly: and in déede theyr blea [...]ed eyes cannot long behold the brightnes of the diuine Maiestie. Nowe if the worldly felici­tie could be attained without labour, as it were in a traunce, & as if we should let it in at a windowe: or if Fortune would throw into our nets our selues sléeping, as shee is fayned to haue dealt with her loue Polycrates, then there might be a kinde of reason framed by our fancye, and it might perhappes bee beléeued with an vncircumcised credu­lity, that it were a great deale better to serue the world then God: but if there be more wearines in walking, as a worldling, thē labouring as a Christi­an, if to be choaked and strangled with the cares of this world, be an infinite torment: if to sée the conscience besie­ged [Page] with an hundred hels, and to feele the racking and renting thereof, as it were with a thousande fleshhookes, be an intollerable griefe, then happie and thrise happy is the mortified Christian that is satisfied with the swéete content of a meane estate, and the moderate portion that God hath allotted him. If we be no where lesse troubled then in the wayes of God, and no where more wearied then in the way of sin­ners, as that voice of damned persons beareth witnes: Lassati sumus in via iniquitatis, Sapi. 5. we were wearied in the way of wickednes: is it not an extreame madnes, rather to bestow our labours, landes and life vppon those thinges from which wee must very shortly de­part, not into a newe Paradise, but in­to an eternall dungeon, where there is continuall g [...]ashing of teeth, and the worme neuer dieth, then to consecrate our liues and liuinges vnto the Lorde, and for his sake to abide the vttermost brunt of tribulatiō, whē for our paines wee shall haue a surpassing reward: for the honour that wee héere loste, an vnchaungeable honour, for the pleasure [Page] that héere we forsake, an inestimable felicitie? besides all this, what a singu­ler peace, and what a delicate banquet is a good conscience, not wexing pale with villanous cogitations, which is better then all the Epicures delights, then all transitory pleasures, then all curious & exquisite inticements, wher­with the iugling worlde doth sophisti­cally delude vs. What pleasure can there bee in the riches of this worlde, which before they are purchased, doo weary vs, when they are possessed, doo infatuate vs, and when they are loste, doo excruciate vs. Without question, the soules of the wicked are tossed he­ther and thether, with perpetual cares, with moste intricate perplexities, and griefes innumerable. Thys the Lorde hath affirmed, who as he cannot de­ceiue, so he cānot be deceiued, [...]say, 57, Cor impii quasi mare feruens, the hart of a wicked man is like a raging Sea, that can take no rest: Nothing is quiet vnto them, nothing peaceable, the trenchers wher­on t [...]ey cutte theyr meate with trem­bling handes can beare witnesse, the meate y^t stayeth in [...]theyr chaps whilst [Page] they are thinking mischiefe, can beare witnes, their slow & imperfit digestion may beare witnes: the leanes, palenes, and wannes of their chéekes may beare witnes. They are affraid of all things, suspect all things, and euerye thing is a messenger of death vnto them. Who would therefore aemulate them, or im­mitate theyr manners. Who hauing forgotten theyr dignitie, their heroycal nature, and theyr heauenly Monarche, béeing made frée men are become bond­slaues to the worlde, lyuing miserably, dying more miserably, and most mise­rably like to be afflicted wyth eternall flames. There is none, but he seeth these things, as cleerely as hee behol­deth the Meridian Sunne: but there is not one amongst a thousande that doth these thinges, which he knoweth are to be practised, but we cleaue as yet to the durt, wallow in the myre, and though the loathsome satietie of pleasures doo breede a surfeit vnto vs, yet cure we the poyson of pleasures with the hem­locke of obstinacie, and though our myndes doo sometime reclayme vs from such vanities, or rather impie­ties, yet such cogitations are soone ex­tinet. [Page] We assigne the regiment of our mindes to a foolish Phaeton, namely to the secure sensualitye of an appetite charmed with pleasures. Let a Christi­an man consider, what a daungerous thing it is, to liue amongst them day and night, whose life is not onely an inticement to sin, a wicked May-game and a moste pernitious example, but doth wyth al endeuour, bende it selfe to the ouerthrowe of vertue, vnder the Emperour Beliall, vnder the standerde of death, and vnder the stipende of hel, wageing battail against heauē, against the Lord and against his annoynted.

These are they whom God hath de­liuered into passions of ignominie, into a reprobate sence, to doo those thinges which are vndecent,Rom, 1, ful of all iniquitie full of enuy, hatred, deceite, malignity, poysenfull, blasphemers of God, con­tumelious, proude, disdainfull. inuen­tors of mischiefe, vnwise, dissolute, dis­orderly without affection, without mercye, who though they sée the iustice of God, yet wyll not acknowledge it bee­ing so far from excuse, that they which seeke to cloake and colour theyr impu­ritie, [Page] are the seauenfolde sonnes of the deuill, & are worthy to be racked wyth wilde horses till they confesse y^e truth. And therefore let them which are zea­lous in the Lordes wayes, seperate themselues from the company of such to whom the name of God is odious, vertue vnpleasant, Religion a base profession, godlines a symple gyft, honestie a straunge monster, and charitie a foo­lish affection. Let a certayne holie am­bytion possesse our myndes, and let vs disdayne to take precepts of them, which therefore offende because they lacke the vse of godly precepts. It were better farre that they taking example of the godlie, by lyuing wel, may learn to be Christians, then that the godly o­mitting theyr good purpose shoulde by lyuing as they doo, bee transformed to beastes. Let them bee assured, that pleasure when it moste delighteth is at an ende, that it falleth head-long into the bosome of sorrow, and that the greatest pleasures wyll at the last be tur­ned into sharpest tormēts. Gluttony is the mother of cruditye in the stomack, drunkennes breedeth the ache of the [Page] sinewes venereous practises bréed pal­sies, stifnes of ioyntes, and a roaring ventositie in the entralles. Pleasures are not sound nor faythfull, they salute vs with a fayre face, but behind theyr backes is a grim desolation. And there­fore let thē be shaken off in time: they embrace fréendly, that they may stran­gle trayterously, and whosoeuer per­formeth this admonition, let him be­thinke himselfe to what a number of bad companions he hath gyuen a fare­well. Hys bodye is free from ougly dis­eases, his mind is deliuered from igno­rance, his appetite from sensualitie, hys estate from daunger, hys house from dyscorde, hys soule from y^e secrete pange of a griping conscience, al things shall then turne to the beste vnto him, hys afflictions to preseruatiues, hys sorrowes and brinish teares, to an ac­ceptable sacrifice: and the great vncon­stancie of fréendes, to a great confidence in God. I am plunged in a déepe and vnspeakable sorrowe, when I thinke vpō the fancies, or rather furies of mē, which I can better deplore, then de­scribe, and rather meruaile at then a­mend. [Page] Is it not a great madnes, not to beleue the word of God, whose trueth is published by the bloode of Martyrs, resounded by the voyce of the Apostles proued by myracles, confirmed by rea­son, witnessed by counselles, by the heauens declared, and by the deuils confes­ed. But is it not an excéeding madnes, for a man not to doubt of the trueth of the Gospel, and yet so to liue as though there were no doubt, but it were false? If y^t bee true which is sayd in the Gos­pell. It is harder for a rich man to en­ter into the kingdome of heauen, Math, 19 then it is for a Cammell to passe through a needles eye, why doo wee so gape for rytches, why doo wee dedicate all our labour to vniust Mammon, making golde our patron and protector, as though life & death were in the vaynes of that vile mettall: but here some pro­fessors of cauills wyll take thys excep­tion. Ryches are in the number of good thinges, and are the blessinges of God, and therfore there can bee no excesse of them, because there is no excesse of a good thing. Thys reason because it is so well pytcht on the heads of worldly [Page] cormorants, that they take it for a hel­met, must be wyth great considerati­on confuted. Ryches I graunt are the blessynges of God, and a cleare light of his fauourable countenance, neyther is there any excesse in the Lordes bestowing, who dealeth vnto euery one accor­ding to weight and measure: but the excesse of riches procéedeth from y^e out­ragious appetite of man, as the hea­thens dyd prefigure by y^e couetous de­sire of Midas: by the infinite desire of A­lexander Magnus, who imagined a pluralitie of worldes, for the better in­structing of whō I am of opinion that Aristotle did especially wryte hys first Booke de caelo. It is (I say) of the inordinate appetite of man, which because it is excessiue, it must of force prosecute an excesse of riches. And thus it may be prooued, that it hath such an obiecte to worke vpon. Euery thing whē it hath gotten a sufficient and proper matter to worke vppon, employeth his force to that thing onely, as hauing a taske pre­scribed to it of nature. Therefore if ry­ches were the proper obiect and mat­ter of worldly desire, then hauing got­ten [Page] the wealth that it firste desired, and fully proposed, as a cōtentation til the end of lyfe, it would rest in y^t as in an hauen & be contented w^t that only was sought for contentation: but we see the contrary, for it flyeth frō sufficiencie to superfluity, in such fugitiue maner, that it séemeth nothing wyll satisfy it, but excesse of ryches, and to that (indéede) al the cogitations of y^e couetous are ben­ded, euer labouringe, longing and compassing, till they haue aspired to an excessiue substaunce: Ouermatching him whom the Romaines thought matchles in hys kind, the wealthy M. Crassus. Much like to these rauening affections were the chaungeable ima­ginations of the Heathens, who placed at first in theyr Olympus but a fewe Gods, yet when they wext so haughtie that euery one would haue a God, for himselfe, and himselfe a God, theyr heauen wext so full of hée Gods and she Gods, that as Iuuenall saith,Iuuenal Satyr. 3. Atlas hath a heauie burthen, or to make hys meaning more plaine, a knauish loade. Nowe if excesse be the obiect of coue­tousnes, couetousnes must of necessitye [Page] be a vice, for all excesse and defect pro­perly taken is a vice, and al excesse and defert as Aristotle saith,Aristo. Libro, 2 [...]hicor cap. 2, is to bee shun­ned. Ryches therefore are abused by the vntamed concupiscence of man, and are often wrested by a sinister interpretation to abuse.

It is not to be doubted, but the ry­ches, wherewith God aduaunced Iob, were very singular, and the rare bles­singes of the Almighty, but the deuill that erronious Serpent, vsed them as a bayte and snare to intrappe the soule of Iob. For he imagining that his ry­ches, had lulled him in securitie, and intangled his conscience, thought that the spoyle of Iob hys ryches, woulde haue béene the sacking of the soule. So riches were an instrument of abuse to the father of lyes. And though the pa­trimony of Naboth, were y^e ordinary meane of God to serue the vse of Na­both, yet the same was an instrument of abuse to the deuill against the soule of Achab. So likewyse riches were v­sed of God for the allurement of Na­buchadnozer, to the acknowledging of of his mercies, but the deuill wrought [Page] in him a discontented desire, & brought him to this absurditie, that hee thought Babilon was a Heauen, and himselfe a God.

There is nothing in the worlde so precious, but it may be abused, as a gly­stering Pearle, may bee placed in a Swines snoute: the abuse of ryches, is the excesse of riches in mans minde, which because it is an abuse, it must not be vsed, and because it is an excesse, it must not be coueted, least swelling with Esops Frogge, to become as byg as a Bull, we burst at length with de­sire, and vanish into nothing. The like may be spoken touching the abuse of honours.

It is no doubt, but they are the En­signes of Iustice, and the honourable rewardes of vertue, but yet we sée how by ambition they haue béene abused, and how by corriuall passions of migh­tie menne, common. Weales haue béene brought to great wrack. Was not the gréeuous distresse of Thebes to be lamented,Seneca in Thebaid, when Eteocles & Polyni­ces issuing out of the same wombe, dyd violentlie rush into the bowels of their [Page] Countrey, as a Lyon and Leoparde: when they, which by birth were equal: by blood, were brethren: neither distant by wombe, nor disseuered by Country: they against the prescript of nature, whose sinewous perswasion doth ex­céede all the brauery of Rhetoricke a­gainst the Lawe of Nations, against the lawe of Armes, against all right and reason: chose rather mutually to afflict themselues, then not to despise one another, as though contempt had beene the crowne of Princes, and as though to despise had béene as much as to touche Heauen with theyr fin­gers.

If yée will haue a witnesse more nigh vnto your memorie, looke vppon Rome: which was so wasted and con­sumed by the immoderate contempt of equalles, and did so languish by the ex­cessiue conflict of noble Péeres, that it séemed rather to bee a shamble to the carkasses of vertuous Cittizens, thē a prison to the voluptuous, and a graue to the riotous. Pompeie did plesantly iest at Caesar, Caesar did more esteeme the paring of his nayles, then the honor [Page] of Pompeie, both theyr swordes were drawne against the naked common Weale, one Shéepe was committed to two Wolues, and the final end of their contempt, was the funerall of theyr common Weale. These actions did fo­lowe and immitate the contentions of Marius and Sylla. Marius made little estimation of all the Nobility, Sylla did take Marius for a vile & base borne creature, as an abiect or forlorne per­son: but this light contempt was of great waight, and the scalefire of pryde could not be extinguished or repressed without the downefall of the common Weale.Villeius Pater cul. Marius béeing constrayned fled to Carthage, in whose ruines and re­liques whilst he lodged, Marius behol­ding, defaced Carthage, Carthage be­holding, disgraced Marius, one of them might haue béene a comfort to the o­ther.

Thus were honours peruerslye drawne from their proper ende, to the pursuing of an vnlawfull tyranny, and yet it is most certaine, that they bee God his speciall benefites and signes of his iust approbation. Saul was inue­sted [Page] of God with most excellent honor, but the deuill racked the power of Saul to the tyrannical persecution of Dauid. It is best therefore to séeke the glorye that is of God, and not that which is of men. Why doo we hang so vpon the estimation of man? Why doo wee fa­shion our selues to this worlde? Why doo we seeke to be cōmended for rych and wealthie, howsoeuer wee bee dys­commended as ignoraunt and way­warde? In nakednes we appeared at first, and our last appearaunce shall be in nakednes: therfore to care for the morrow, which perhaps wee shall not see, or cramme our Barnes, of whose fatnes we shall not eate, is it not a fol­lie, a miserie, and a madnes? If it be true,Prou, 2, that the righteous shall inhabite the earth, and the simple minded shall continue in it. If the vngodly shall bee wiped from the face of the earth, and they that worke wyckednes shall be taken from thence. Why doo we liue in pleasures, sith wee cannot continue in them, because we liue in pleasures. If we haue any faith in vs, why doo we not beléeue that the Lorde [Page] wyll sometime say: goe ye cursed in­to euerlasting fire, and contrariwise, Come ye blessed, possesse the kingdom that was prepared for you, from the beginning of the world? Why doo we feare nothing lesse then hell? And why doo we hope for nothing lesse then the kingdome of God? Why are wee in name Christians & not indéede? Why cry we Lord, Lord, but doo him no ser­uice? Awake worldlings, cast the fog­gie mist from your eyes, sée and say the truth, giue pleasures theyr pasporte if they fawne vpon you, beléeue them not they are the fore-runners of death, and they haue clapped hands with destruc­tion. Endeuour to enter at the nar­rowe Gate, be not obstinate, because ye are manie. Know that but a fewe shal­be crowned, and it is as great a glory to be crowned wyth fewe, as it is a shame to bee condemned with manie. But that they may the better bee per­swaded by mee, and giue more credite to these assertions which I haue sette downe, I will by the grace of God, vn­folde the swéete treasures of a solitarie life, ioyning therevnto an exhortation, [Page] whereby they may be mooued, though not mended, & loath their vices though not leaue them: But heere at my first entraunce, they will trippe mee wyth this obiection. Woulde you haue vs goe into the Wildernes, that is a place for Hermites: to the Forrest, where Palmers doo macerate themselues: to the Hylles and Valleyes, where solita­rie Shéepe heardes doo abide: or to the Woodes and Groues, where Out­lawes hide their heads? Their pati­ence in such sorte I meane not to of­fende, because I wyll not touche that string whereon they harpe so much.

The continuaunce of this dyscourse shall make manifest, that as I ayme at a fayrer marke, so I meane to take my standing on a better ground. But for the excusing of the Hermites life, thus much I doo aunswere:Prou, 26 not as greatlie vrging it, but as aunswering fooles ac­cording to their folly. The Hermite hauing nothing, hath nothing to bee robbed of, is not with cares ouer prest, nor with the multitude of the vniust ouercrowded. The rich personages, in whose houses swarme troopes of [Page] fréendes and seruauntes, haue so many moathes commonly féeding vpon theyr bagges, vnles they be altogether ex­penceles Eoclioes, that the siluer fal­leth out of them before it can well bee spared. And in such varietie of freends, whereof some be cholericke, some me­lancholicke, some sage, some voluptu­ous, some humble, some proude, some mercilesse, some pittifull, some enui­ous, some faithfull, and this last some is the least some: in such discorde of affections, disagréement of inclinati­ons, dissent of motions, contrarietie of humores, whether or whom wyll hee please that hath shuffled himselfe wyth so manie: and entred into a league with men so diuersly disposed. If hee be a dauncer, his Stoicall fréendes are at his elbowe, with a payre of pinsors to kéepe him in tune. If he be no daun­cer, his Epicureall fréendes thynke straight way that hee is in a traunce, that he is dyspossest of his liuely spy­rites, that he is inflamed with a foolish zeale, that he is allured by Pulpet per­swasions, as if they should say, that hée were tempted of God: and when he is [Page] thus estraunged from their fashions, they are ready to be at defiaunce wyth his fréendship.

Now there is an other sort which be of the meane pitche, and they alowe to theyr fréend some kind of dauncing, but some they abiudicate, hauing that saying of Aristotle for a principle: Om­nis saltatio non est illicita, Arist. in arte poe­tica. quemadmodum nec omnis motus. All dauncing is not vnlawfull, no more then euery moti­on. There is a fourth sorte, and they can not abide their fréende to gyue hys minde to anie thing, to which they doo not addict themselues, though they doo not mislike the qualitie wherein he de­lighteth, saying that a fréende must bee alter idem, so like, that if he spitte after an other sort, hee is to bee accounted a [Page] Schismatike. Amongst so many heads, sences, and sentences, such chaunge and mutability doth ensue, that euery mor­ning, wherein a man so distracted by diuers perswasions ariseth out of hys bedde, he ariseth with an other minde, and as an other man like to these ani­matio diaria, Cicero. and horaria which conti­nue in their estate but for an howre or a day: or like to Heraclitus his horse,Arist. Me­taphisi. 3, c. 5 which going into a Ryuer, did neuer returne out of the Ryuer, y^e same horse that he was when he went in Though this be an inconuenience, yet it is sea­soned with this cōmoditie, that a man in companie is merry, and passeth a­waie the time by some recreation or o­ther. Sée how wee triumph in our fol­lie. We laugh as loude as Iupiter dyd,Valer. Flaccus argonautic. Lib. 6. when he was heard to laugh from the heauen to the earth: but it is vnpossi­ble that our myrth should not be ouer­cast, with a clowde of sorrow. Euerye foresight of some mischiefe being at the dore readie to arrest vs, or remem­braunce of some sorrow, hauing latelie past by, and frozen our hartes with hys stormie countenaunce, daunteth our [Page] chéere, interrupteth our myrth, chaun­geth our Commedie into a Tragedye, and our laughter into lamentation. E­uerie doubtfull rumor of a perillous thing, maketh our hart to sobbe, our minde to feare, and smiteth the whole man with such an vniuersall extasie, that we feele as it were a worme, fée­ding on our hartes, and a threatning that maketh vs to shake, and all our ioyntes to tremble. How soone might a man discharge himselfe of this bur­then, if he would professe a solitary and chaste life: which I will first illustrate by a similitude, and afterward by rea­sons and examples. When a man ma­keth his Testament, he renounceth the worlde, and in a little paper hee dooth orderly and conueniently dispose euery thing. When he is dead, he is neuer more likely to be troubled againe wyth such cares, or with any worldly busi­nes, which is the fountaine of sorrow, of which, as often as we thinke, wee cannot choose but sighe. If a man wold ordayne his will, take his leaue of hys carnall fréendes, byd the worldly cares and cogitations adewe, and betake him [Page] selfe to a solitary or sober life, I meane amongst men, not amongst beastes: a­mongst men also, not as seperated from their company, but as sequestred from their contagion, hee should not in any wise enioy lesse quietnes and tranqui­litie, then if he were in his graue, the doore whereof is alwayes shutte, that no euill tydinges may enter. He that sitteth on the throne of wealth, com­passed with a large circle of freendes, hath (as long as the sun-shyne of For­tune doth warme his bagges, and as long as his glistering substaunce, ma­keth euery man to cast vppe hys eyes) a great multitude of fréends, but when Fortune beginneth to wage battayle wyth him, when his riches be melted, and his authority eclipsed, then euerye fréende flincheth from him, and then he is as wylling for shame and sorrow to forsake hys freendes, béeing then by compulsion enforced to leade a solitarie life. And ha [...]de he not béene better to haue chosen a solitary life at the first, that is, not to haue reposed his confi­dence in freendes, but to haue wholye relyed vpon his God, trusting freendes [Page] as mistrusting them, and so determi­ning of them, as hauing a doubt of thē? To be chained to a fréende, is a serui­tude, and to follow him in all things, is to leape beyond the line, to raunge out of the way, and to leaue God for man. Nowe, when after our pleasures com­meth a chaunge, and after the dawning of our ioy, ensueth a blacke and gloomy night of care and sorrow, then we wish for death: but that desire which encro­cheth vpon vs, by the violence of aduer­sitie, is nothing so welcome vnto vs, as that we willingly admit. If the man so debased, and throwne from the toppe of a prosperous estate, had at the first gyuen himselfe to solitarines, he had wanted, I graunt many pleasures, but he had lacked also manie sorrowes, and he had escaped that extreame sorrowe, into the bottome of which, aduersitye hath throwne him, and howe can it bee, but that such a life should be better, thē a life ledde in pleasures, when he wy­sheth after the ende of his delights, ne­uer to haue enioyed them,Augustus saying some tyme as Augustus said: O vtinam caelebs vixissem, orbusque periissem. I woulde I [Page] had neuer beene a husbande, I woulde I had neuer beene a father: sometime with a tragicall tune lamenting,Senec [...] durū est seruire, cum didiceris dominari: It is an harde thing to learne seruitude af­ter soueraignty. Sometime with dys­contented Cicero exclayming:Cicero. Cum nō sis qui fueris, non est cur velis viuere. Sith thou canst not enioy thy lyuing, why wouldest thou enioy thy life? If thou haddest beene solitarie Cicero, thou haddest not drunke of the poysonfull cuppe of enuy, thou haddest escaped the swordes of Antonius and Herennius, carrying thy heade vppon the poynt of his sworde, should not haue made the Romaines to haue gazed vppon it, as Children stand wondring at a Puppet erected on a pinnacle. Much eloquence we had lacked, if thou haddest not béene in Fortunes fauour: but yet many ho­nour thy eloquence, that care not for thy fortune. If thou haddest declay­med against a Piller of thine owne house, within thy priuate walles, and haddest imagined it to haue béene An­tonie, and haddest engrauen therevp­pon, thy Philippicall Orations, neither [Page] had we lost the eloquence which we contained in them, nor thou the dignity in which thou diddest pronounce them. Let euerie one consider, to what course of life he committeth himselfe. If hee make pleasures his companions, hys money cannot long keepe him compa­nie: if he make moneie his companion he shall not lacke copartners. Hys Pe­nelope can not be without fiftye woo­ers, a companie of good felowes, com­monly called théeues, will bee ready ad conciliandam beneuolentiam, of his ar­genteall assemblie, gathered together from diuers coastes and quarters of the world. If he séeke one lie to haue the applause and approbation of the com­mon people, as a perpetuall Perithous vnto him, hee followeth after flying Byrdes, and beateth the winde wyth his breath. The people is a chaungea­ble societie, and hee must bee a perfitt Chamaeleon that retaineth their fa­uour. Demosthenes did thinke that the Athenians good will, had béene for his singuler eloquence in the highest degrée toward him, and I thinke it was: but as it is the vse of humaine thinges, [Page] which fall when they are at the high­est. Diogenes holding vppe his scrip on his staffe, whilst Demosthenes dyd with an oratoricall discourse allure the eares of the Athenians, withdrewe from Demosthenes all his auditors, and turned all their eyes to a vaine spectacle, verifying that which he dyd before speake of them, that they were Bellua multorum capitum, A beaste of many heades, to vse a more ciuill in­terpretation, men of many mindes. Now he that [...]ancieth so much the peo­ples fauour, must either serue theyr humors, or els they will vtterly reiect him: if he folow their affections, hee must be a slaue to their wylles, and so not be ledde by his owne reason, which is proper to man: and in him contra­rye windes must blowe at the same time, which combat is against nature. He must holde with some of the people one thing, and with other some y^• con­trary: and so in inward affection. Hee shall fight for himselfe against himself, béeing diuersly distracted,Li [...]ius, Lib, 1 making a Met [...]us Suffetius of his owne minde, plunged in the hell of doubtes, and a [Page] galla-mafrie of his conscience, which if he wounde, that is an other hell, and if he die without repentaunce, hee must looke for the third hell. But he wyll so prouide, that he be in great fauor wyth some honourable personage, and so ha­uing gotten a golden vizarde to a badde face, he thinketh hee may maske in al kind of pleasurs, without any stayning of his credite: for as for conscience, that is the least question, he thinketh his e­stimation can neuer be impayred by a­ny chaunge of fortune, imagining that he is secundus a Ioue, De moribus vltima fiet quaestio Iuuenal. the next to Iupi­ter, and like a foolish Weather-cocke, turneth to euery proude imagination, as his fancie windeth him, but he must not thinke, that his minde can be faber fortunae suae, the carpenter of his owne fortune. He may imagine that he hath golden Mountaynes, that he is a Cit­tizen of the siluer world, that he is the sonne of the white Henne, and manye such gloses he may make vpon a phan­tasticall text. But Fortune cannot bee faithfull, shee is onely stedfast in vn­stedfastnes, rowling continually hither and thither, according to the circute of [Page] her whéele. Plautianus was in hygh fa­ [...]our with Seuerus, Dion in vit. Seuer. but his estimation was nothing so great as his ruine, hys aduersitie by many degrées excéeded his authority: if he had not béene knowne too manie, manie had not known hys fall: if the light of the Moone were not very great, who would watch halfe a night to behold the eclipse. To lose at one clappe the credite which he did purchase by so great seruice, and so conti­nuall attendaunce, that hee did euen serue out a seruitude to purchase a kingdome, which bothe to obtayne and lose, almost in one moment, to chaunge hys honney for poyson, and hys blysse for bale, muste of force be a great an­guishe to Plautianus. A whetstone to his myseries, a wormewood to hys re­membraunce, and a canker to his hart. If he hadde dwelt in a meane Village, vnder the name of a poore Gentleman, he should haue beene loued of his neigh bours, but not enuied: and though hee had beene a scandall vnto his enemies, yet he should not haue beene vnto them a ridiculous spectacle. It is not my meaning, to perswade any manne to [Page] dwell in Diogenes hys Tubbe, or Cle­archus hys Truncke, to liue onelye by eating the ayre, or to repose hys cheefest delight in the buzzing of a Bée, but to exhorte euery one, that he single and seuerre his desire from the worldly delicates, to estraunge hys cogitations from the allurements of the eye, to re­straine hys appetite from the deuills triangle, Bacchus, Cupid, and Venus. That is, not to be accounted a chaste and contemplatiue life, which is con­sumed in corners vpon a melancholicke passion, or continued in desertes vpon an amorous desperation, or which is spent to loathing the societie of menne, but not in forsaking and renouncing the company of vices. They which so passe the time, that the print of theyr foote-steppes cannot bee perceiued, to tend eyther toward the Courte of Ver­tue, or to the Court of Venus, but stand still in the méeting of these two waies, are rather to be accounted Neutralles thē Christians, rather sluggish drones, then eyther godly Eremites, or celesti­all Eunuches, or solitarie Virgins, ha­ting rather men with Tymon, then [Page] the sinne of Man with S. Augustine. The popish Monks make a gooly show euery one of them liuing solus cum sola, I would haue said solo, but that they serue not Bona Dea, and therefore they vse not her precept.

These are not the true professors of a solitarie and vertuous life, béeing no­thing els but the Popes Adamant, not to drawe yron, but coyne vnto him. But they onely are accounted the per­fitte Solitaria [...]ns, and they onely are pre­cious in the sight of God, which behaue themselues in this world like Straun­gers and Pilgrims, béeing as it were [...]ncarnate Angels, hauing their mindes fixt on the heauenly delightes, and on the heauenly knowledge: which are base in the sight of Men, fooles to the Stoikes, blockes to the Epicures, cast a­wayes to the contemptuous, and to ex­presse all in one worde, wormes and not men. They are like Beacons vp­on hilles, which stande in a solitarye place, and yet giue light to the whole Country rounde about, at whom euery worldling doth gaze, as at a Stranger, [Page] or outlandish person, meruailing whēce he came, whether he will, or what course he meaneth to take: but these straungers of the world, stand at a bay with pleasures, at a defiance with the deuill: hauing crucified themselues to the worlde, and the worlde vnto them, they put a great distinction betwéene the Harpe of Paris, and the Harpe of Dauid, betwixt the dauncing of Debo­ra, and the Iewish women, Statius in Achilie id, and y^• daun­cing of Venus, and Lycomedes hys Daughters, béeing neuer merrie, but when it is said vnto them, Come let vs go into the house of the Lord, Psal. 22. because their feete shall stand within the gates of Ierusalem, neuer delighted to throng with the multitude, but when they goe ad domū dei cum frequentia, Psal, 55▪ to the house of the Lord with a great assembly.

They séeke not to haue theyr names blazed by the Trumpet of the common people, they doo not watch, nor care, nor trauaile for a popular fréendship, they doo not hauke nor hunt for lucre and gaine, but if it please the Lord to place them in seates of honour, they take it as a frée gift, not as a merited reward, [Page] vsing their honor to the Lordes honor, ready at al times to resigne it, when it shall please him to remooue it: and if it please the Lord to kepe thē in a low e­state, & to barre them frō the waight of honours, they are contented with his grace, and making fréendes of the wic­ked Mammon, vppon whom they doo not relie, because they must not make such a base matter their Bulwark, but charitablie dispensing their substaunce, to the vse of their néedie Brethren, to the discharge of their owne want, and to the glorie of God: they so vse y^• world as not abusing the world. But in these dayes, vnlesse a man be frollicke, and dissolute, he is accounted melancholick: vnlesse he haue a round inuention to returne a quippe, he is accounted lu­naticke: if he cannot cozen, he is a sott: if hee bée simple, hée is a foole: if he be solitarie, hee is a [...], but if he be a familiar companion, one that is taught to the game, and a confede­rate in venereous practises,Ouid▪ such a one, as Ouid describeth. Qui canit arte ca­nat, qui bibit arte bibat: he is accounted immediatly a good fellow, a flowre of this age, and he is inuested with such [Page] sible titles, that he followeth the race of them that praise him, as the Ape dooth the steps of them that trace him. The solitarie man hath fewe fréendes, and therfore fewe enemies: he taketh no partes▪ and therefore is partaker of no harmes. Cicero was once determined to prosecute his studie, and not to med­dle in the ciuill warre, betwixt Caesar and Pompeie, but alas he drewe hys féete too late out of the myre, wherein so long he had bedawbed them: for shewing before a fréendly countenance to Caesar, and professing great fréend­ship to Pompeie, such like affections to persons so diuersly affectioned, he was looked for of the one, and longed for of the other: the one claymed him, the o­ther chalenged him: Caesar was iea­lious of him, and set Scoutes to prye whether he applyed himselfe any way to the pleasuring of Pompey, and Pompey also watched him very narrowlie, with an attentiue héede, examining his procéedings, and doubting that hee dyd more estéeme of Caesar then of him: so that Cicero then beginning to bee soli­tarie, was debarred from his intent, [Page] and the more close and solitarie that hée was▪ the more diligently and circum­spectly was he watched: so that it is not enough to shake of partialitie and affection, and goe to his studie, & there betroth himselfe to his Minerua, ha­uing the worlde before him, in a Cos­mographicall Mappe, and the state of the common Weale in the parliament of his cogitations, but he must set vp­on his doore in the first yere of his Man hoode: Hic situs est Vasias: Vasias ly­eth buried heere: as though he hadde lost his life, and had entred into a new worlde. For if a man be halfe alyue and halfe dead, to this wicked worlde, full of contentions and cares, he pur­chaseth to himselfe the name of Am­phibion, a beast that lyueth bothe on water and on land, and such a munke is like to the bare scalpe of a Monkes head, that is halfe an heade, and halfe a skul: such demi-worldlinges should bee vsed like the Batte, which was thruste both from beastes and byrdes, and haue a garment shaped after two fashions, that he may learne of his coate what deformitie there is in his mind, but the [Page] linges are so charmed with the sweete coniuration of pleasure, that they think their delightes shal neuer haue an ebb, that there shalbe no intermixion of so­row, no chaunge of fortune: that they shall intreate age with a congie, death with a kisse, the hellish tyranny with a deuoute placebo, and the God that ma­keth the Temples of Heauen to shake with thunder, by powring out a fewe wordes in forme of a prayer. Syth they haue aboundaunce of all thinges, ioculiaritie at wyll, pleasure in theyr hands, pouerty vnder their féete, welth in a chayne, which they plucke in, or let out, as it shall please their fansies: they are fullie perswaded, that they shal ne­uer taste the cuppe of sorrow, that they shall neuer be pricked with thornes: that they shall neuer behold the sworde of vengeaunce. These voluptuous Thrasoes, thinke that they shine lyke the greater starres, which obscure the lesse. And indéede they shine in a kind of brauery: but how? Euen as y^• glim­mering of a glassie substaunce, which is darkened as soone as it appeareth, and from the Orient to the Occident there­of [Page] is a very short space, and a little di­stance. In y^e darke clowdes of miserie, in the ruine of prosperitie, in y^e wayne of fortune, in the confusion of states, and the conuersion of times: where bée these sparkling starres Hector, Troy­lus, Deiphobus, Paris, and Priamus? where is the pompe & maiestie of that great kingdome? where be these gor­gious Women, Andromache, and Hecuba? where be these diuine walles, built, erected, & established, by y^• hands of Neptune & Apollo? where is there a monument, print or signe of y^• large and famous region, which was called Dardania? Troy is not in so good case that it is turned into standing Corne, as the Poet imagined, when he sayde Iam seges est vbi Troia fuit: Ouid in Epistol. but the corne is cutte, and the stubble remay­neth. These same starres haue nowe lost their light, and are couered wyth the mantle of darknes. They may say, we were Troians, but now are ashes: we were starres, but now are car­kasses: we were Grapes, but now are dregges: we were the honour of Troy, but now are the footestoole of the Gre­cians. [Page] O wonderfull chaunge, importu­nate times, and crooked fortune. The Sheepeheardes doo sing in the field, the conquest of the Troians, and the Troian warre is the Sheepeheards caroll. O slipperie dignities, headlong honoure, fugitiue glory: which in one moment lighted vpon them and rebounded from them. But these were mighty menne that bare too high a sayle, and therfore had iustlie such a stripe gyuen them, and such a penalty inflicted, let it bee so: But shall Hector die, and Astianax liue? Shall the thunderbolt of Ioue strike downe the Giants, and shal Pha­eton that proude boy scape the force thereof? Shall the trees fall, and shall not the leaues be mooued? Shall Cit­ties be shaken with earthquakes, and shall cotages stande, it is impossible, and incredible: but what is this against the voluptuous? Troy was deceitfullie ouercome by the Greekish craft, & per­iurie: but Troy was firste bathed in Wine, before it was circumuented by fraude,Virgill. and drenched in blood.

The Greekes inuade a careles drunkē Towne.

When I cal to mind, how the sump­tuous buildings, which the Romaines did consecrate to pleasure, are turned to nothing, how their Theaters, Am­phitheaters, Circi & delightfull bathes are withered with a light drynes, dis­solued with a little blast, and rowlde downe as it were with Fortunes da [...] ­liance. I meruaile that the Epicures are so secure, that they thinke theyr ioyes shall alway continue, or if they thinke on death, yet they imagine, that after their death they shall be renow­med for some rare Trophee of plea­sure: when death hath once seysed vp­pon them, all such thinges are disconti­nued, neither can they looke backe to their former pastimes: the Idolles of of their Epicurisme shall bee throwne downe by the breath of his mouth, be­fore whose face, the Idols of the Gen­tles were dissundred into dust, and now in dust are they buried. Let them ther­fore before their death thinke of their death, let them before they be embarc­ked, meditate both of the Hauen, which [Page] is the Porte of happines, and of the Rocke, which is the receptacle of the vnhappy: and let them in mind foresée the grim and blustering countenaunce of the terrible and threatning day, in which the Axletrées of the world shall flie in sunder, the starres shall fall from the heauens, when the Sunne shall be ouercast with an yron colour, hyding his head because he hath lost his light, and the moone béeing depriued of her light, shall stand astonished, when the reuenging fire shall droppe from Hea­uen, and the sparkes of the lightning shall kindle in the stonye Rockes: whē the Seas and fountaines shall burne, when the ayre shall be inflamed wyth burning clowdes: when this auncient forme of the world shall bee chaunged. Let them thinke of y^• miserable Dun­geon, which contayneth the powers of darknes, that loathsome lake of hell, where the deuills are plunged, as in a swallowing gulphe, out of which there is no egresse, buried in the bottome of a vaste fornace, and breathing out of their nostrelles the smoake of venge­aunce, out of their mouthes an eter­nall [Page] fire, to torment the distressed: with one hande they stretche out bright fire­brandes, in the other they holde theyr thrée forked fuskins, both of them as fit instruments of theyr tyrannous cruel­tie. There is continuall gnashing of téeth, sighing and sorrowing, both of the deuill himselfe, and those whom hee scourgeth, with whips that will neuer be worne, scorcheth with fire that wyl neuer be extinguished, fettereth wyth chaynes that will neuer be loosed, and teareth with wilde Bulls that will ne­uer be wearied, consumeth with a worme that will neuer be filled, dys­ioynteth with rackes which will neuer be broken. The Prince of darknesse howleth, because he hath lost the hea­uenly mansion, wherein before hee had the vse of inestimable ioyes. And they because they left the happines, y^• was offered vnto them, if they woulde haue left the waies that ledde to destruction. Let them to whom God permitteth the fruition of this vitall ayre, thinke of these thinges, and lay them vp déepe­lie in their hartes, let them lift vp their eyes to heauen, and their hartes to the [Page] heauenly comfortes, let them long to be placed in the Parradise of blisse, and to be cladde with the robes of glorye, to be crowned with the garland of victo­rie, to be initiated into the misteries, and admitted into the secrete treasure of that diuine contemplation, which is not by any mans spéeche, or thought counteruailable, by the benefit of which they shall behold the shyning gates of the heauenly Ierusalem, the walles stréetes, and dwellings thereof, y^• troope of Cittizens and theyr mightye Mo­narche: whose Towres are of preci­ous stones, whose buildinges are ador­ned with Saphire and Smaragdi: Then they shall sée the Sacrifice of their re­demption, the pure, holy, and immacu­late Lambe, with the quyre of Angels, they shall glorifie God, amidst y^e blessed number of Prophets, Apostles, Mar­tyrs, & Confessors, with the righteous Men and Matrons, with the innocent Virgins and Children. Wherefore let them desire to bee deliuered from these fleshly bondes, let them be wyl­lingly content to leaue their Tentes of Ceder, that dwelling with Cherubins [Page] and Seraphins, and the happy soules of the Saintes, they may triumphant­lie sing these hymnes vnto the Lorde, which are vsed in Sion. Let them adde to these thrée, three other contemplati­ons, very necessary and conuenient, let them déepely I say deliberate of these three thinges: First, howe base our estate is in this life. Secondly, howe discommodious this worlde is vnto vs. Thirdlie, how short and momentarye this life is. For the first, let them enter into the consideratiō of mans original, who when he commeth into the world, doth with great weakenes, imbecillity, feare and trembling, enioy the earth▪ and receiue the ayre: hee shrinketh, quaketh, and quauereth, stagereth and starteth backe, as though hee woulde gladly returne, and reenter into the closette of his mothers wombe. And for the euident demonstration of his mys­liking of this world, he beginneth to weepe, and cry out in most rufull and pittifull manner, with a skréeking and dolefull gen [...]thliacon, which [...]s so pro­per to the nature of man, when it first sprouteth in this world, that the lear­ned [Page] Mirandula not vnwisely sayd,Ioan. Pic. Mirand. lib. 7, in Astro. that a Child as soone as he is borne, giueth out no signe, which is proper to man, but onely weeping: and hath hee not good cause of weeping, when hee com­meth into the Theater wherein Mali­ciousnes playeth her prize, when hee commeth into a vayle of myseries, into a deserte full of vncleane byrddes, into the world (I meane) possessed of white deuills and blacke deuils, into a place that receiued him being actually inno­cent, but wyll send him backe, béeing ouerflowne of vices, and when hee groweth in age, he groweth like a tender hearbe, vnto which hee hath often beene, and may well bee compared, not for any internall power, wherein hee resembleth the herbes of the fielde, but for an internall impotencie, for hys fraltie, tendernes and weakenes, for his great néede of vnderpropping, che­rishing and defending, subiect to the coldnes of the ayre, subiect to the par­ching of the Sunne, subiect to rage and violence, and when he is euen at the toppe of his perfection, how farre is he excelled in many thinges of the brute [Page] beastes, which he taketh vppon him to mannage, to vse at his pleasure, and with a lyon-like looke to despise.Aristot. R [...]etoric. 1. cap. 11. All temporall and worldly delight, consi­steth in three thinges: in perceiuing thinges present, which are delightfull vnto vs: in remembring thinges past, which haue béene pleasant vnto vs: and in hoping for thinges to come, which may be pleasant vnto vs. In these three thinges, Man may challenge the victory: but quietnes consisteth in thrée other thinges. In perceiuing thinges pleasaunt, without hurt: in remem­bring thinges past, without greefe: in looking for thinges to come, wythout feare. And in these three thinges, Man is ouercomed of the brutish creatures. Varietie likewise consisteth in three thinges: in enioying many thinges: aunswering to many affections: in finding out helpes to nature: in knowing many thinges: in those thrée, Man is the victor. But contentation is repo­sed in three other things: in being fre [...] from mutabilitie of desires, in beeing satisfied with that which natures bountie doth exhibite, in knowing nothing [Page] that might be wyshed to bee knowne: and heerein the sauage beastes haue preheminence. There bee foure small thinges in the earth sayth Salomon, and yet they are wyser then men that bee wyse.Prou. 30 The Antes a people not strong, yet prepare they theire meate in the Summer. The Connies, a peo­ple not mighty, yet make they theyr houses in the Rockes. The Grashop­pers haue no kinges, and yet they goe all foorth by bandes. The Spider hol­deth with her hand, and is in kinges pallaces. So the Lorde that hee myght shewe howe weake mans power is, beeing compared to other creatures, that hys owne power might cleerelye shyne in the creation and gouernment of them, dooth thus expostulate wyth Iob. Iob, 39, Who hath sett the wilde Asse at libertie, or who hath loosed his bands? It is I which haue made the wildernes his house, and the salt places his dwel­linges. Hee mocketh the multitude of the Cittie, hee heareth not the crye of the dryuer. And againe. Hast thou gy­uen the horse strength, or couered hys neck with neyghing, he diggeth in the [Page] valley, and reioyceth in his strength, he goeth foorth to meete the harnest man, he despyseth feare, and turneth not his backe from the sword. Iob bée­ing greatly apalled and daunted, wyth these and such like spéeches, doth con­fesse his imbecillitie, acknowledgeth his basenes, and remooueth from hys mind all opinion of statelines, & wyth great humilitie, méekenes, and lenitye of mind, frameth this aunswere to the Lorde. Beholde I am vile, what shall I aunswere thee, I wyll lay my hande vpon my mouth.

Thys may sufficiently argue mans ignobilitie and contemptible estate in thys life: if we rest onely in the natu­rall manne, and goe no further: but this notwithstanding he will scarce be­léeue, that this worlde is discommodi­ous and daungerous vnto him, sith hee tasteth the fruites of most accepta­ble fréendshippe, and hath such a large title to so many freendes. By that recorde I wyll be tryed, and as the iudgement of freendshypp is registred in the hartes of wise men, let definitiue sentence bee giuen. The discoloured [Page] and mutable affection of fréendes hath driuen many to that exigent, that they haue beene ready to aduowe and be­take themselues to a voluntary exile, whereof Vmbricius the Romaine was one, who made this protestation.

Thither I meane to hie Whither the wearied Dedalus constrai­ned was to flye.

And he giueth afterward a substanti­all reason.

Salomon did much lament the de­fect of charitie, and the coldnes thereof, when he considered that the poore and innocent manne was fréendles and suc­courlesse.

I behelde (sayth Salomon) the [...]eares of the innocent, and there was [Page] none to comfort him, and hee coulde not resist the violence of aduersaries, beeing destitute of all mens ayde. Therfore I praysed them that were deade,Eccle, 4, more then them that were lyuing, and happier then bothe did I iudge him that was not yet borne. As it was in Salomons time, so is it nowe, and I feare worse. What cruelty is daylye committed of neighbour against neigh­bour, brother against brother, fréend a­gainst freende?

nor hoste his guest doth spare. Nor sonne in lawe the father in lawe, and brothers loue is rare.

There is nothing more common in these dayes, then fréendly salutations, sugered spéeches, large promises, fau­ning faces, fauourable wordes, the fide­litie of the forehead, and the charity of the countenaunce.

But a fréende that will take his hart out of his brest, and gage it for thy safe­tye, to whom thy teares be as greeuous [Page] as the droppes of hys own blood, which accounteth thée his owne déere worth, though thou be deformed by pouertye: such a fréend is the beauty of the world and his fréendship is a rare mysterie to the cōsideratiō of man. But such fréend ship is y^e imagined fréendship of Aristo­tle, which is (so haue we corrupted & altered nature) an accident but not inhaerent in any subiect: an excellent thing, & diuinely described. But y^e good Phi­losopher (peace be to his cinders) coulde not giue an instance of a perfit freend, though hee gaue many rules and docu­ments, which may direct to fréendship. Nothing tinckleth more in the eares of men, then the name of society, and the profession of amitie, nothing seemeth more delectable vnto vs, then the name of fréendship, nothing more detestable then the name of enimitie: yet in the common practise of our life, that which by wordes we doo so greatly dyscom­mend▪ by déedes we doo confirme and approoue, and in our hartes enimitye hath a francke tenement: freendshyp is tenaunt at wyll, which in euerye cholericke furie, we are ready to ex­trude. [Page] This is the cause that freendship is so clowded by anger, so diminished by suspition, so weakened by emulati­on, so corrupted by enuie, so supplan­ted by trechery, so solde for commodi­tie, so chaunged with nouelty, so farre distant from constancie, that this onely remaineth to a mā to beast of in fréend­shyppe, that he is not deceiued nor be trayed by his fréendes. Now if fréends be so disprofitable, and fréendshyppe so daungerous a thing in this Worlde, what are then our foes in this worlde our sworne foes, our bitter enemies, such as are neuer satisfied, tyll theyr eies be glutted with beholding a whole Ae [...]na of miseries falling vppon vs. Let him loath therefore this world, let hym loath this life, let him desire to leaue this carkasse. This life is indéede a death, and this carkasse but a Tombe and Sepulcher of a shry [...]ed soule.Phill. 1. Let him desire to bee dissolued, and to bee with Christ, for that is the best with­out comparison. Let him lastly call to account the shortnes of thys life. Let him marke howe the Feathers are al­most as soone molten as they beginne [Page] to growe.

Man (sayth Iob) is of a short conti­nuaunce, and full of trouble,Iob, 14, hee bud­deth as a flowre, and is soone cutte downe▪ he vanisheth also as a shaddowe and continueth not. Though a man (sayth Dauid) shoulde passe the com­passe of a thousand yeeres,Psal, 90 they are but as yesterday with thee, and as a watch in the night. Thou takest them away, as it were in the flowing of the sea, they are as a dream. They are in the morning as grasse, that vadeth away, which vadeth in the fame morning wherein it flowrisheth, in the euening it is cutte vppe, and withereth away: all our dayes, passe away from vs by thine anger, we spende our yeeres, and they are like vnto a tale, in the daies of our life, be but seauentie yeeres, and if we bee most healthfull, but eyghtye yeeres, the greatest excellency of them is troublesome and greeuous, which when it passeth away wee doo imme­diatly vanish. Let vs therefore make great account how we spend y^e dayes of our peregrination in this worlde, and the longer we liue, let vs liue the bet­ter, [Page] God will not bee wanting to our wyll, if our will be not wanting to our selues, let the worldling weigh in hys mynde, the reasons and precepts that of the sacred worde of God I haue bor­rowed. If he thinke them to burthe­nous, let him thinke of the reward that he shall haue for the carriage. The weight wherewith he is charged, is the waight of pearles, not of quarry si [...]nes. Euery ounce hath a pound of commo­ditie: and let the godly Christian take this poeticall clause, not as poetical but true, and as a fréendly farewel of a con­templatiue Christian.