Howe yonge men oughte to reade Poetes and Oratoures.

I Am moued by di­uers considerati­ons, to geue you suche counsayle as I thynke shall do you good, yf you wyll folowe it. For beyng come to this age, and hauynge had thexperience of many matters, and felte the chaunge of tyme, that techeth al men to know them selues, it hathe made me so practysed in the worlde, as to them that nowe begynne to frame theyr lyfe, I am able to shewe what way is best for thē to take. And because I am by nature, next your parents mooste nyghe vnto you, and beare you no lesse good wyll then youre fathers in dede, I thynke that you [Page] do not desyre to be with theym, so longe as you maye be with me. If you therfore with wyllynge harte, receiue myne exhortation, you shal be conteyned in the second degre of prayse that Hesiodus geueth: yf not, I wyll speake no reproche, for you knowe what he sayth.

Maruayle not althoughe I take vpon me, to fynde of my selfe a bet­ter way for you, than you maye ga­ther of other, beynge daylye con­uersaunt with the beste aucthores, and resortynge to the most famous readers of the same. For this is euen the very cause, why I come to aduertyse you, that you oughte not vtterly to betake the rule of youre myndes, as the sterne of a shyppe, [Page] to these men, to folowe where they wyll leade you, but onelye to take that whiche is profytable, and to refuse the rest. Therfore what they be, and how we may discerne them I wyll teache you. And thus I doo begynne.

¶Onelye the lyfe eternall is to be sought for.

WE, O childrē, do not esteme this worldly lyfe at all, nor we doo not iudge or name anye thynge good, that is so muche desyred for the commoditie it bryn­geth vs, as nobilitie, strength, beu­tye, dignitie, or the honoure of all men, or a kyngdome it selfe, or any thynge that amonge men is regarded. We do not thinke it worthy to be desyred, nor we doo not passe of them that haue it. We pretende by hope to a greater matter, and make all oure purueyaunce for a further [Page] lyfe, and whatsoeuer profyteth vs to this, we saye it ought to be en­brased and desired with all studye & diligence, and whatsoeuer anay­leth not to this, we muste reiecte it as nothynge worth.

¶The difference of worldlye and heauenlye lyfe.

WHat this lyfe is, and howe we may lyue it, is a greater matter than we wil at thys present take in hand, and requireth a greater audience than you be.

This much shalbe sufficient to say vnto you nowe: He that could com­prehend in one tale, and gather to­gether in one summe, all the felici­tye that haue bene synce the world beganne, shall fynde it farre vne­quall to the leaste parte of the good thynge that we speake of, and that all the glorye of this worlde, is lesse to be comparyd wyth one of the smalleste partes of thys, than [Page] shadowes & dreames be to the thin­ges that they present. And to vse a more playne example, as the soule in all degree is moore honourable than the bodye, so is the difference of these lyues.

¶Thynges of moralitie must fyrst be learned, and than diuinite.

TO this the holye wrytynges by secreate meanes do leade vs. And till we can for weak­nes of age, attayne to the depenes of them, we be traned in other, not all together different from these, as in shadowes and myrroures mete for the eyes of the soule, folowynge theyr example that shal do any feat of armes, for they practyse both hād and foote, that they maye in theyr matche, enioye the gayne of theyr studye. We muste thynke we haue an empryse propounded to vs, pas­synge all other, aboute the whyche [Page] we must employe all our diligence and trauaile. And for the furniture of this, we must practyse with poe­tes, with hystorians, and oratours, and with all men, that we maye therby get some commoditie to our soule. And as the dier with certain arte prepareth the cloth to be colou­red, and than layeth on his flower, whyther it be purple or other, euen so we to make the glosse of vertue durable, do tast the outward shewe tyll we may approche to the secrete and sacred misteries. And as men accustomed to see the sonne in wa­ter, be after the more apte to dyrecte our eyes to the cleare beames of the same.

¶Holy scrypture is bewtyfyed by humane learnyng, by thexam­ple of Moyses.

IF in wrytynges there be a con­sonaunce and an agrement, the knowledge of them is profitable [Page] [...] [Page] [...] [Page] to vs, yf not, the conference of both vtterynge the difference, anayleth muche to the knowledge of better. For the comparyson of both to som indifferent thyng, do shew a shape of bothe. And as it is the lyuely vertue of the plante to be laden with seasonable fruyte, and yet hath a beutye beset with leaues and braū ­ches. Euen so the natiue fruyte of the soule is verytye, and neuerthe­lesse it is not vnpleasaunt to hyr to be clad with externe sapience, as with leaues, whiche is a couerture for the fruyte, and a delyghte to the eye. Moyses (whose name for his wisdome is so great with all men) dyd so furnishe hys mynde with the sci­ence of Egipt, as he thereby aspyred to the contemplation of GOD.

Lykewyse of latter tyme, the sage Daniell of Babilon, when he had lear­ned the sapience of the Caldees, came to the knoweledge of dyuyne let­ters.

¶The vse and imitation of Poetes.

WE haue shewed that extern wysedome is profytable to the soule, nowe we wyll de­clare howe we ought to procede in it. And fyrst to begyn with Poetes, because they be diuers and of al sor­tes, we maye not geue our myndes to thē a lyke. Whan they rehearse the noble feates and wordes of no­table men, then we ought to be en­flamed in our hartes, and endeuour our selues to be the like. But when they vtter wicked men and theyr actes, then we ought to flee them, and to stoppe oure eares at them, as Vlisses dyd at the Sirenes. For whye, euyl talke is the way to euyl dedes. Wherefore we must with all dili­gence take hede, leste by lasciuious speache, we suffer pryuylye some noughtye thinge to come vpon vs, as a poyson tempered with honye. We shall not therfore esteme those [Page] Poets, y^e present vs with scolders & scoffers with louers & dronkerds and suche as measure felycytie by delicate fare and plesant musycke. And specially thē that medle with Gods and bring them in with dis­corde and debate, y^e brother against the brother; the father stryuynge with the chyldren and the chyldren makyng soden warre with the fa­ther, and whan they trete of there dissolutenes and adulteries, and that of Iupiter, him selfe ther cheife GOD as they call him, in such sort, as withoute shame a man cannot report of brute Beasts. Let vs leue this to stage players, and the like I saye of all other writeres, special­lye whan they allure men to plea­sure.

Howe Oratours are to be red.

WE may not regard Orators whan they speke to please y^e hearer, for neyther at the [Page] barre nor ells where, is it lawefull to vse lesing for them that seke the righte and true way of lyfe, and by lawe be forbid to do amysse. But than shall we enbrase them, whan they auaunce vertue and depresse vyce, and as all other, take plesure onelye by the coloure and sauoure of the flower, but the Bee picketh also hony out of y^e very same, euē so may we gather out of thē not one­lye pleasaunt and swete matter to the eare, but also holsome doctrine to the soule and in euery thing we maye folowe the Bee. For they nether go confusedly to euery flower nor when they come, bearethe all away. But taketh that serueth for there worke, and let the rest alone. So must we iudge what is family­er and allied to vertue, and that admit, letting the other passe and as in a rose bushe we leue the thornes and take the flower so in such wry­tings we ought to take the good & leue the bad, & in euery doctrine we [...] [Page] consider howe the beginning agre­eth with the endyng, accordyng to the Doreanes prouerbe. The stone and the measure must agree.

Poetes and Oratoures must be red for the vertue that they teache.

AND because a lyfe muste be dyrected by vertue, we must learne of all Poetes, of all Orators, and Historians, yea and chefely of al Philosophers, al theyr teachinges, that auayleth vs to the familiaritye of vertue, with whom and younge mennes myndes, wee must engrafte an aliance, for thin­ges that be lerned in tender age, do abyde the better, because the ten­dernes of theyr myndes, receyueth the same to the verye botome.

What shoulde we thynke Hesiodus mente by those verses that euerye man hath in hys mouth, but to ex­cite [Page] young men to vertue.

I thynke he ment nothyng els, but to styrre young mennes myndes to vertue, and to encorrage all good men to the same, that they shoulde for no labour geue ouer til the end.

And whosoeuer he be that exhor­feth vs to honestye, we maye well folowe hys counsel in that behalfe. I hard a man of great learnyng in Poetrye saye, that all Homers doc­trine, was nothyng but a prayse of [Page] vertue, and that he gathered all to this purpose, except in some by matter. As when he bringeth in Vlisses naked & al forlorne by shipwracke, as shamefastnes might haue folowed to be sene naked of a Quene and alone, but vertue whyche was to hym as a garment, made him euen than, naked as he was, to be hono­rable, in so much as the Quene did hym reuerence fyrste, and then all the Cuntrye, leuyng theyr banket, wher they feasted, to behold hym, and ther was not one for the tyme, that rather desired any thyng than to be Vlisses, although he was naked and in shippewrake. That learned man, that I speake of was wont to crye with hygh voyce at this place. Ofrendes lette vs embrace vertue, whiche in shypwracke swimmeth wyth vs, and maketh a man naked cast vpon the shore to be more wor­shipful, than the welthye Pheaceans.

And surely so it is in dede, for all [Page] other thynges, be no more one mannes then an other, euē as the chāce of the dye is vncertayne: onely ver­tue, both to quicke and dead, is sta­ble and sure possessiō, by the whiche reason I thynke Solon was moued, whan he spake to ryche men.

The lyke sayinge is of Theogius, whan he sayth, that GOD doth hāg a balance dyuerselye amonge men, for somtyme it floweth with riches and sometyme it hath nothynge. The lyke is wrytten of Prodicus, the wyse man concernynge vertue and vyce, and it shall becom vs to mark what he sayth, for he is a worthye wryter. He affyrmeth in a place, the sentence wherof I remēber, be­ing writen in prose, y^t whē Hercules was a yonge man, & much of thage that you be now, and was musing whiche waye he myght take, ether [Page] the harde waye to vertue, or the easye waye to vyce, that there ap­peared two wemen vnto hym, that is to saye, vertue and vyce, whose diuersitye of araye did declare their condicions. The one was set forth in all kynde of gorgyousenes and brauerye, with the whiche, and hirlasciuious talke, she deuised to al­lure him to pleasure, and to hyr purpose. The other, beynge sober, and of symple chere, tolde hym a contrary tale: she promysed hym neyther pleasure nor ease, but payne, peryl and trauayle both by sea and land, but the rewarde of this shuld be, to be made a GOD. Whiche Hercules dyd chose, & folow to his liues ende.

¶Phylosophers be to be redde be­cause they set forth vertue.

IN maner all that haue wrytten anye matter of grauytye, more or lesse, to theyr power haue set [Page] forth vertues prayse, whome we must credyte, and do our deuour to shewe it in our lyues. For whosoe­uer expresseth by works, that other doo onelye by wordes, he is a wyse man in dede, the other as shadows vanysheth away. And as y^e work­man that paynteth, or graueth the ymage of a worthye man, and one that in lyfe expressethe the vertues of the same. But they that praiseth vertue abroade, and sette hyr forth with paynted wordes, and yet pre­ferre pleasure before temperaunce, and lucre before iustice, they be like the stage players, whiche many ty­mes appeare as Princes & Kynges, and be so farre frome the same, as perhaps they be vyllanes, & slaues borne. The musitian if it be possy­ble, neuer suffreth the instrumente to be out of tune. The scolemaster of daunsing, chafeth whan the fote faileth: and shal a man discord with hym selfe, and his lyfe be repugnāt [Page] to his words? But the tounge dyd swere, the harte made none othe (quoth Euripidis) it is inough to sem an honest mā. But this is the rote of all iniquitie, yf ye wyll beleue Plato, to appere honest, whan thou arte not soo.

Reding of Poetes and Historyes, is profitable for examples.

OF wordes and wrightinges of vertue, we must take pro­fight after the way that we haue shewed. Nowe of the deedes of worthy auncient men, left to vs in memory by monuments of Po­etes, we ought to receyue good by them after this sort. A vile & leude felowe, rayled on the worthy Peri­cles, of Athenes, at the which he was neyther angry nor any thinge mo­ued in his minde, the felowe lefte noo reproche vnspoken, Pericles, as things not appertainynge to hym, [Page] passed not of them. When it was night and darke, and yet the vyle iangler wold not departe, Pericles, caused his mā to waight vpon him home with torche lyghte, that he might enioy his longe contempla­tion in philisophy. A certen man in his rage thretened to kyll Euclides, of Megara, and affirmed by oth that he woulde do it. Euclides, sware the contrarye that he would so appese him, as he should do him no hurt. It is very profitable to record some suche example to them that be in rage of anger, we may not beleue the Tragedie that saythe, ire doo arme the handes to fyght. For the best way is not to be angrye at al, but if that canne not be, to vse re­sonne as a bridle, and not suffer it to strai to furre. But let vs returne to the factes of worthy menne.

One dyd stryke Socrates on the face verye spyghtefullye, Socra­tes, [Page] Socrates made no resistaunce, but suffered hym so much as al hys face was swelled. And when the man had saciate hys rage, Socrates did nothyng els, but in his forehed wrote hys name that had beaten hym, as they be wont, that make pyctures.

Suche a man dyd thys feate, and soughte none other reuengemente, and because these agreith with our doctrine, I would we should folow the example. The facte of Socrates, agreith wyth our scrypture whych mouisheth vs that when we be strykenne on the one cheke, we should hold forth the other, none other re­uengment is graunted vs, and the example of Pericles and Euclides, is lyke to oure precepte, that wylleth vs to suffer them that persecute vs, and paciently to beare their anger, and to praye for our enemyes, wis­shyng them none euyll, and he that is practised in these, will not discredite the other as thinges impossible [Page] We may not here forget the feat of Alexander, who hauyng the daugh­ters of Darius in captiuitye, and he­ryng marueylous reporte of theyre bewtye, woulde not suffer them to come in hys syghte, thynkyng it to be a shame, that a Conqueroure of men, should be Conquered of wo­men. This agreith wyth our lear­nyng, that whosoeuer beholdeth a woman voluptuouslye, althoughe he haue no companye with her, yet is not without sinne, because of the concupyssence of the harte. The dede of Climas, Pythagoras frend, will hardly be beleued of vs, howsoeuer it be taken, who when he might by an othe, haue escaped the losse of .iij talentes, he rather payde it then he would sweare, and yet should haue sworne trulye. But I thynke he had hard of our precepte, that for­biddeth vs to sweare at all.

¶A choise in learning must be had, and our studye direc­ted to some ende.

I Will returne to that I spake in the beginning, we may not take euery thyng, but onely good and profitable. For seing we wyll dily­gentelye refuse those meates, that myghte hurte the bodye, it were a shame to haue no regard of doctrin, which is the fode of the soule. But lyke a raging streme, to deuoure al that commeth without respecte.

The shypmaster suffereth not hys shyp to be borne wyth euery puffe, but standeth at the helme, and directeth it to the porte, the Archer hath his eye to the pricke, the Carpenter and the Masonne, hath an end and purpose of theyr arte, and shall we in the order of lyfe, be inferyour to artificers? It can not be, that the craftes manne hath an ende of hys worke, and we haue none of oure [Page] lyfe, which they beholde, that seke the perfecte happie life, yf we with out all reason and staye, be tossed hither and thither in our life, what difference shall be betwene vs, and shippes that haue no sternes: in the playes of musike and manhod men do excercise themselfes to that pur­pose, when a tryall of strength shal be made, no man studieth to be cunnynge at the Harpe or the Pype.

Neyther Polidamus nor Milo dyd soo, but the one before the solemne day of Olimpe, practised renning Charettes, and the other, with armed shild stode to hys defence, as a thynge vnremoueable, wheras yf they hadde laboured the musyke of Marsias or Olimpe, and lefte the duste and the game place, theye hadde wonne no prayse nor glorye, nor auoyded the derision of the people. Contraryewyse Themistius did not leue his mu­sike, and trye his strength, for than he had not gotten suche an excellencie in the same, as he passed al other [Page] musitians, who had so muche cun­nyng that at hys pleasure he coulde styr any man to ire by vehemencye of hys arte, and bryng hym agayne to quiete, by the swete plesauntnes of the same. When Alexander was at a feast, and he appoynted to play before hym by one kynde of musike called Phrigian, he so stirred the king as he arose, to take his armure and fyght, and by the chaunging of his armonie, he made hym to returne agayne to the banquet, such effects haue the practyse aswell of musike as of corage, whē they be exercised to the same ende.

All thinges is purchased by labour the happye lyfe and all.

BEcause we be entrid into this matter of Champions, and re­wardes, Let vs procede a ly­tle further in it. Consyder how many thousand paines they take, how many stripes they bear in lernyng there sense, what a thin dieat they kepe? Not as they wil but as there maysters commaunde, and to be [Page] brefe, in al other, their lyfe ledde before the day of profe, is a meditati­on to the same. In the ende, they come to the place of triall, where they fyghte with greate paine and perill, that they might be crowned with a garland of olyue, smallage perslee, or some suche lyke, and to be proclaimed victorius of the ha­rold, and shall we, to whom so meruelus rewardes of vertue be pro­pounded, as theyr worthynes can­not be expressed, slepe on both sides at oure pleasure, and thynke to catche it by holdynge vppe one of oure handes? Than were slouthe much to be praysed in our life, And Sardanapalus, might be noted y^e most happye in the worlde, or Margites, who had no good condition in hym as Homer saith. And yf this be true of Homer, no lesse true is it that Pit­tacus, affirmethe. All good thing to be hard. For after much paine and trauell, a man shall haue muche a do to be partaker of those goodes, with which no thing in the worlde [Page] may be compared, therfore we may not be idle, we may not forsake so great hope, for so smale a pleasure, excepte we will susteine reproche and abide blame, not here amonge men, (althoughe that is also to be regarded) but vnder the earthe, or ells where, whan the laste iudge­mente shalbe made. And he that of ignoraunce offendeth, maye happe find some pardon of God. But he that doeth euyll of purpose, hath none excuse, but must nedes suffer gret and diuerse punishement.

¶Howe we ought to vse the body.

WHat shall we doo than will some man saye, what elles, but haue regard of our soul al other things set apart. We may not serue the body furder than ne­cessitie. But the soule we must no­ryshe with all good fode, and dely­uer her oute of prison and the fet­ters of affections, by the helpe of Philosophy, the body muste be soo vsed, as it maye endure and subdue [Page] passions and the bellye must be ser­ued not for pleasure, but for suste­naunce. For they that haue ther delyght onely in banquetes & festing, seking al the earth and sea, to satisfye there appetide, be burdened w^t a miserable bondage, payng a try­bute to a sharpe Lorde, in noo lesse paine than they that be tormented in hell. Some to cut the fire, some to beare water in a siue, and soo to fyll a botomeles tubbe with oute anye ende of their laboure. To be curious in oure heare, or to make much a do aboute oure garmentes is the parte of them, that be misers or mischeuous, as Diogenes saythe. Wherfore to be trym in apparel is as euill as to be dissolute or adulte­rus. What difference is there to a wyse man, to were a fyne gowne, or a course cloke, so the body be de­fended from hete and colde, and so in other thinges not to be more precise than nedeth, not to puffe vp the body, but for the commoditie of the [Page] soule. And it is nos lesse shame to him that worthelye hath the name of a man, to be to carefull aboute his body, than to be subiect to anye vice out of kynde. Therefore to be­stowe all our study vpon the garni­shing of oure bodye, is the parte of him that knoweth not him self nor do not vnderstand thaduertisment of the wise man that saieth. The thinge that is sene is not the man. But a greater wisedome is nedful to vs to knowe what we be.

Pleasure must be eschewed.

BVt it is more impossible to do this without a clere mind, thā to behold the sonne with blere eyes, the clensynge of the soule, to speake it breifely, is nothyng elles but to despyse the pleasures of oure senses, as the eies may not be fedde with vayne syghts, or such shewes as leaueth a prouocation of pleasur neyther maye the eares be entysed with such melody, as corrupte our myndes: for of such musyck, wan­tonnes [Page] procedeth. We ought to re­ceaue the musick that Dauid the po­ete of holye verses vsed, to deliuer kyng Saul from his madnes. Pithago­ras chaūsed to se a company of yong men, renning about the town lyke dronkardes, he badde the minstrell to chaunge his musik, and play the sad measure called Dorical, whiche dyd so restore them to their vnder­standing, as they were ashamed of theyr folly, and threwe away theyr garlandes, and their dronken gar­mentes. This is sufficient to teach vs, that great respect is to be had in the musik that we here. Wherfore I exhort you to beware of the mu­sick that is now in vse, as of a thīge of great fylthines. As for sauoures or smelles, or anoyntmentes, what shulde I nede to speake? And as for pleasures by touching and gesture, no man nede to doute, but if we be wel ware of them, they wil compel vs to be slaues to the body, as brute beastes.

¶The body must be subdued to reason.

FYnally, the body must be vtterly subdued, excepte we will be drowned in the gore of plesure and so much onely we may make of it, as it may serue for the ministery of Philosophy, as Plato sayth. And S. Paul in effect hath y^e same wor­des, when he biddeth, that no care shuld be had of the body for to pro­uoke pleasure. For they y^e set theyr hole care vpon the body, and do ne­glect the soule, whome it oughte to serue, differeth nothyng from them that with great diligence seketh for goodly toles, and care not for y^e art wherfore they be made. We muste do the contrary, and kepe downe y^e body, as the fury of a wylde beaste, and pul in the sturdy head with the brydle of reasō, which we may not let go at large, lest the mynd be dra­wen headlong hyther and thyther, as the cart dryuer is pulled awaye with the violence of his wylde hor­ses. [Page] We must remember Pythagoras who, when he sawe one of his ac­quayntaunce, pampryng his bodye with wanton fare, he sayde: Thys man goeth aboute to make his pry­son more heauy. Which inconuenience Plato forseynge, chaunged the place of study, that the high complection of his bodye myght be cut of, as a vyne to lusty. And I haue hard phisitions say, that to much health is daungerous. Seynge therefore that to much feadinge is peryllous for the body, and hyndraunce to the soule, it were verye madnes, to be­stowe inordinate laboure about it.

¶Ryches may not be desyred.

IF the bodye be contemned, and pleasures despysed, what nede haue we of ryches? Truely I see none, except some man hath delyte to watche, and kepe his mony hyd, as the fable maketh mention of ser­pentes. He that knoweth well to dispyse these, shall vtterly abhorre [Page] from all dyshonesty, both in worde and dede. And all that is more than sufficient, he wyll hate it, whatso­euer pretence it hath. For sufficien­cye is not to be measured by plea­sure, but by necessite. For they that go beyonde the boundes of necessite be lyke to them that falleth heade­longe, and can fynde no fotynge to staye, but the more they haue, the more they desyre, to satisfye theyr lust and pleasure, according to that Solon sayth.

And the lesson of Theogius we ought to folowe.

I can not but with good wyl remē ­ber the sayeng of Diogenes, that des­pised all worldly thynges, and yet thought hym selfe to be more riche, thā the most myghty kyng, because a lytle serued hym. And we, excepte we haue so many talentes as Pythi­as, and so many acres of land, as we [Page] can not wel nomber, and so muche cattell, as can not be tolde, we are not content. My opiniō is, that we neyther ought to desyre riches whē we haue them not, nor to glorye in them, when we haue them, excepte we knowe howe to vse them. Socra­tes spake well of a ryche man, that auaunced hym selfe for hys ryches: I wyl not (quoth he) esteme the, ex­cept I knowe howe thou canste vse thy wealth. If Phidias, or Policletus, had gloryed in the golde, whereof the one made a statue and image to the Ilianes of Iupiter, and the other to the Argiues of Iuno, forsakynge theyr arte and knowledge, whereby that golde was made moore precious, they had ben laughed to scorne, for chalenging a gloue that was none of theyrs. And shal we thynke vs to be worthy lesse reprehention, bele­uynge that vertue is not hable of hyr selfe to beutyfy vs sufficiently.

¶Flattery and boastyng to be eschewed.

[Page]SHall we forsake pleasures, shal we despise ryches, and neuer­thelesse embrase flatterye? and delyght in fayer wordes, and in the party for of Arclilocus? Truly there is nothynge more to be auoyded of a wyse man, than to lyue after the common opinion, and by vayne wordes to fall into offentation.

We oughte so earnestelye to em­brase reason, the right guyde of life that if al men wuld cry out against vs, we woulde not forsake our iust quarel, for no infamie or daunger. For he that frameth his life other­wyse, differith nothynge from the iugler of Egipt, who at his pleasure could make him selfe a tree, a beste fire or water, or any thing that he would. For if the company serueth he wil prayse vertue, and yf the cō pany be for the contrarie, he wyll praise vice. Euen as Polipus, that turnith his shape to y^e color of eue­ry thing he commeth to, so he wil chaunge his sentence, at the plea­sure of euery audience.

¶Al thinges are to be sought that may bring vs to the happy lyfe.

THese matters may be more exactlye learned in mine other workes, at this presente it is inough to describe vertu, as in the shadowe of externe doctryne. For he that taketh profighte by euery thing although he do it by litle and litle, yet is it true, that many a litle maketh a gret, as a mighty flod, of a smale fountayne. For where the Poet saith, put a litle to a litle & do it oft, it is not to be vnderstād only of thincrease of mony, but of euery sciēce. Bias one of the vii. sages, sent his sonne to Egipte, who axinge hys father, what he myght do to please him. He answerd, if thou canst purchase such spending mony, as may accompany the to thy age. He mēt vertue, by the name of conduct mo­nye, and yet his limitation of ver­tue, was to streyghte, to confine it, within the compasse of mans lyfe, for I saye if a man myghte liue the [Page] yeares of Tithon, or of Arganthonius, or had the long liue of our Methusa­lem, who liued .ix. hundred saue xxx. yere, or culd number all the ages of men, since the creatiō of the worlde I would smyle at it, as at a thinge of smale vnderstanding, in the res­pect of the infinite time of vertue, the terme wherof no hart can com­prehende, no more than the soule immortall. For the which, al dily­gence is to be vsed, that we maye be so furnished, as shall redound to our commoditie.

¶Payne maye not wythdrawe vs from the studye of Vertue.

AND thoughe these thynges be harde and paynefull, wee maye not geue ouer, but we must remember the lesson that bid­deth vs take the best kynd of appro­ued lyfe in hande, and thynke that vse and practyse, wyll make it easy vnto vs, it is a rebuke to leaue the present tyme for a litle sloth, and after cal for it agayne in vaine, when [Page] no thyng wyl be found, but sorowe and greife. I haue tolde you, what I thynk most fyt for you presently, and to the same, I will counsel you while I shall lyue. Ther be .iij. kindes of diseases, of the wyich, one is incurable, into the whych I wolde be lothe that you shoulde fale, or to be sycke in your mynd, as many be in theyr bodye. They that be a litle euel at ease goeth to the Phisitions them selues, and they that be verie sycke, sendeth for the Phisitions to them, but they that be past remedie by the rage of melancolye, neyther goo nor send to the Phisitions, nor suffer them that do come to them to doo them anye good. My prayer is, that you do not fal into the lyke in­conuenience, refusynge all good counsayle.