WHen I cōsider, why euery man thinks himself euill dealt withall, that hee is, that. which God would haue him to be (Great & Right Honor.) (and that which is more worth and better then all titles) (right vertuous): I finde no o­ther reason; but that euery mans vnthankfull mind towards God, is the fountaine of this euill. For ma­ny are most sparing, but most, most vniust esteemers [Page 2] of his benefits: not so much accounting those things which they haue receiued to be benefits, as those things which they haue not receiued, to bee los­ses; wee passe all moderation with our shamelesse wishes, whilst whatsoeuer (foolishly) we couet wic­kedly, we hope; and whatsoeuer we so hope for, that with vnsatiable eyes, and greedy vnlimited thoughts wee feede vpon. From hence is our impatience, from hence are the perpetuall complaints of men, from hence are the frantik & wicked speeches of ra­uing impiety, from hence is that mutuall rancour that burneth inwardely; In one word, there is no worde so common in our mouthes, as these cogitations are in our minds. O vnaequall and Vniust Lost, howe hast thou aduaunsed him without all me­rit vnto a hye place, whilst thou holdest mee who am (many wayes) more worthy, in lowe estate; These and such like tearmes, wee repiningly vtter by reason of our rashnesse, and whilst in nothing we thinke humbly, in all things wee ouerweiningly flatter our selues; accounting whatsoeuer wee receiue, not to be giuen, but payde. And although no man be so impudent, that hee dare openly accuse God; yet that which they speake not, they either murmur or conceale in the secret of their thoughtes, and whilst euery man bitterly complaines of his lot that is not, he doth itreligiously thinke of God, who tru­ly is; and whose name hee concealeth his power and Maiesty he despiseth. This inborn impiety with [Page 3] mans nature, I pursue with this labour in this treatise, neither do I it so much to confute inconsiderat and wicked speeches, as to controule secret and impure thoughts; for from wicked thoughts arise infected and poluted words, and therefore to suppresse those, is to represse these. Neither will I circumuent or treacherously vndermine this fault, but deale plainly, not deceitfully; I will lay open the deformities of this sinne, I will pull vp the rootes of it, the boughes and branches I will cut off. Neither haue I procee­ded more slougthfully in this taske, for that as soone as the title of this booke is seene, I know many either disdainfully will repine, or (as the manners of most are) proudly scorning will say, what can there be in this argument either witty, or learned? Nay, what is there not here rather cold, frozen, worne, & com­mon? For this argument is vsually withall bitternesse handled of the Preachers at this day, and plentifully in those bookes, which euery vulgar eye may reade. And besides peraduenture they will say, these are but the fragments of some auntient wits, as the Trage­dies of Aesculus were of Homer. I confesse, I am not ignorant, that the Argument of this treatise, must passe depriued of his chiefest commendation, and is vnfit to shew any exquisite learning, vnpleasant to the care, and too low & humble, to participate with same. And least any thing should happen newe or vnexpected; besides all these, I haue considered with my selfe, the seuerity and distastes of Readers at this [Page 2] [...] [Page 3] [...] [Page 4] day; the delicacies of mens eyes, and eares; their whisperings and secret reproofes, that resolutely de­spising these, I might passe them ouer. With me the necessitie of this meditation hath only preuailed, and that alone hath imposed this labour vpon mee. Neither can the rumours of the common sort, or the darke cloudes of secret estimation, hinder mee from obseruing those things which are fit, or from bridling (as far as I am able) these impieties, vndoub­tedly the best men, whose vertues (though with farre distance it is honorable (euen creepingly) to follow; haue bestowed most of their leasure to this end. Nei­ther haue I from hence a cōfidence to ouertake thē, but a loue to follow them. Neither is there in this, any ostentation of nouelty, to slirre vp or feede any mans curiositie. Scarse shall I say in this any thing, Famous, newe, or as yet vnspoken by others, there is little pleasant to the reader, or hearer; because I af­fect nothing lesse then curious trimming; I would please, I confesse if I could, but I know not to smooth; I labour wholly to profit. I affect no name from hence. I do not ambitiously wooe the voices of the learned, nor couet the applause of the multi­tude; I know these things are reserued for those wits that mount hier. For my selfe, who in humility scarce creepe, it is sufficient not to be blamed; not to be prouoked; whilst thus I labour to make some defence against those troopes of vices, that are euery where dispersed. To this I exhort all, against whome [Page 5] these monsters bark, cheefely vnthankfulnesse, which is the worst of all; No sinne sooner doth estrange God from Man then this; by no enemy, are we more cruelly and more treacherously undermined, then by this; with this monster, man can haue no trust, but deceitful, no peace, but deadly. Our armour therefore must neuer be put off; as euer being in the sight of an enemy, most watchfull to ouerthrow vs. No combate is of such importance, no conflict of more resolution, nor any that requireth more valour? In this victory are al those things, that are propoun­ded to bee the reward of piety. But there is no con­quest that is harder, later, or more doubtfull. For this poyson of vnthankfulnesse (being pluckt vp) often groweth againe; beeing subdued, often rebelleth, conquereth vs often, when we thinke, we haue ouer­come it: to conclude, vnthankfulnesse is neuer ex­tinguisht in vs, but by a pyety most perseuering and e­uerlasting. Wherefore it is fit, that all vertuous and religious minds do stirre vp, and arme themselues, in the vnderstanding and prouision of such danger; and with continuall and earnest prayers obtaine of his deuine goodnesse, necessary defences against such an enemy; He erreth, that in this, waiteth vpon others; This businesse admitteth no delayes, here euery man must be a spurre, and a guide to himselfe. Euery man must stirre vp and awake himselfe with excellent examples. Heere euery man must be an example to others, and whatsoeuer helpe is neces­sary [Page 6] for his owne safety, that he must imploy, for a cōmon good. There is no vertue if it be seasonably vsed, wherein there is not some helpe and aduantage for this victory; Often times those, whose chardge is least, both in the Church and Common-wealth, if they labour that they may ouercome; if with wishes, vowes, indeauours, if with all diligence they fauour this businesse, they are reckoned amongst Conque­rours. Thinke (Right Honorable) thou that art the light of this age, that amongst these I account my selfe; if I be not in this conflict a captaine of appro­ued valour (as I confesse I am not) yet in my holy wishes, I am a faithfull souldier, who respect not my selfe onely, but seeke for a common good, to ad­uaunce that chardge, that is layd vpon me. Now I earnestly intreate your Honour to patronize these papers (how meane soeuer they are) if you thinke they haue any publique profit in them; the thing is small, yet it attempteth a great worke; and the matter at the first sight is easie, but if you looke nea­ [...]er, of more weight and seuerity. Whatsoeuer it bee, it shall receiue no small authoritie, from your authority. For all men almost that know you, so admire your vnspotted, your humble and sincere be­hauiour, your graue and excellent wisedome, that they reuerence you wholly, as some sacred and sa­uing power. God hath bestowed so many great and excellent ornaments vpon you, compassed you a­bout with so many rich, strong and Honorable de­fenses, [Page 7] of all which I might and would speake if it were not to your selfe. And howsoeuer I may seeme to haue erred in other things, yet in this all that knowe you (and all almost that are vertuous knowe you) will thinke that I was wise, who haue made choise of your Honour, as vertuously to ad­mire and follow at other times, so to bee a pa­trone to this worke; who haue beene euer a fauourer of al those means, which do leade to vertue.

WHosoeuer vnderstands, how hee ought, not to accuse his estate and condition, but how thankefull hee ought to be to­ward God, hath ascended the highest step of piety; where daily lesse and lesse he is prouo­ked with those spurres, with which men are driuen (through their corrupt affections): from hence pro­ceeded those vnwise speeches of God, and those vn­iust complaints against him. But how hath euery man not onely not attained to this, but not indea­uoured toward it. For who is there almost that accounteth not himselfe vnhappy? That is, that professeth not, himselfe vnthankefull? Showe me him, who hath that aequall temper of minde; who dooth measure his owne happinesse, in that measure that GOD accepteth, and not rather [Page 9] insolently, & with pride, treadeth vnder foote, tnoie benefits, wherewith God hath loaded him. If men could intreat of themselues to lay aside this pride, they should likewise lay aside their ignorāce, and their eyes should be opened; those eyes, those equall eyes, wherewith they should looke aboute, & within themselues.

Themselues, that is, that great argument of this deuine goodnesse. For man is the glasse of God, wherein he behouldeth himselfe, and his benefites; truely benefits, because they are free, and indeede re­ceiued of vs, before they are either thought of, or expected by vs: And indeede benefits, neuer enough knowne, neuer enough vnderstood, or esteemed of vs. O man, it is nothing, that God hath made a diffe­rence betwixt thee, and the liuelesse, and sencelesse creatures? from those that are without reason? from all those who are created to this end: to bestow all their benefits vpon thee: to admire, and worshippe thee? to thee, and for thy vse, the Starres arise: they arise, as to their better: they striue to compasse thee about with their heauenly light, to follow thee in o­bedience, with their fauourable aspects, because they see thee to be man, and in man God. If this hea­uenly army, serue thee with such diligence, as being appointed to thy vse, what ought, and must those doe, in the midst whereof thou art placed? dost thou not know these things to be appointed for thy ser­uice? Thou commandest the Sea; thou rulest the [Page 10] earth, thou searchest the secrets of it, thou trauellest to the furthest, and most vnknowne parts of it: what­soeuer the ayre, the earth or the sea containes, what­soeuer the flouds, or the sennes haue nourished, or whatsoeuer is contained in this rich warehouse, the globe of the Moone, all that is appointed for thy vse: wilt thou looke at things past, these are to thee presēt, these things that are present are set (as it were) before thine eyes, things that are to come (an vnfal­lible argument of thy Diuinitie) thou collectest, ga­therest, diuinest, and representest, as if they were pre­sent. In one word, that which is called the World, is thy house, built, and euerie way richly furnished for thee: there is no part of it but is passable, knowne, & wide open to thee, as to his owner. Now it remaines for thee, that thou know thy selfe what thou art.

If thou know thy selfe, then thou shalt vnder­stand, that this great frame, and curious building, is bestowed vpon thee, wherein, thou maist gouerne, wherein, thou maist teach thy selfe, to bee worthie of this dignitie: where thou mayst reward him, that is thy reward er, with holinesse, and a thankefull minde. In this thy dignitie, to represent the digni­tie of God in humaine shape, thou shalt then (I say) vnderstand, that thou art placed ouer this houshold as a Lord (I had almost said) as a God. These are thy birth-rights; this is that excellencie, whervnto thou art borne: Whereunto if thou labourest to be e­quall in the height of thy minde, then thou shalt [Page 11] plainely see, all these things placed below thy great­nes. Thou shalt see nothing without thee, greater then thy selfe, nothing shall distract thee, puffe thee vp, cast thee downe, or make thee sad. Then thou shalt deride so many foolish com­plaintes, wherewith men doe vex themselues, and their liues.

I heare this man complaine, that hee is low borne, or rather basely; alas (saith he) wheresoeuer I am, there my base­nesse offereth it selfe vnto mee, not so much a perswader to make me desire to liue, as an vpbrayder that I do liue; that I am of obscure parents, it maketh me blush, and the Nobi­litie to contemn me; I liue obscurely, as an vnknown part of the base multitude, neither doth my health, or strength, so much helpe me, nor any other thing that is bestowed vpon me, as my base parentage doth cast me downe. I am ashamed, that I haue no honor frō the commendations of my Auncestors; it is my re­proach, that I am borne amongst the multitude, a­mongst those, who are more safely troden vpon, then [Page 13] the wormes. Before we were, and hee that is borne in high place, in this we were both equall, that wee neither were, both of vs lay then hidde in that bot­tomles darkenes, of those secrets that were to come; but as soone as we began to be, hee obtained a fa­mous, and honorable, and I a base, and vnworthy condition. Alas, with what desert, either of him or mine? surely none; what vnequall, and vniust power shall I call that, which hath compassed him newe borne, and vnknowing it with so great and glorious a light, whilst, I (vndeseruedly) do liue in darkenesse? This is the first iniurie, and not to be forgotten, that I am vnfortunatly born; that he hath auncestours ful of honor, and I full of basenesse; that from him, all impediments are remoued, that tend to honor; and that I must creepe through obscure and vnknowne pathes; and through so many lettes must in­deuour to that which is doubt­full, and most vncer­taine.

YEa, and is it so? Darest thou call thy selfe base, whose kindred is with the Hea­uens, dost thou call that bloud obscure and vnworthie, from whence Kings may proceede? Hast thou no auncestours, who mayst (if thou tendest thither) passe along in the steppe of euerie man, that is excellent? I demaunde of thee, which is that ignoble and base multitude, wherein thou art borne? What, of brute beasts? Men are a Heauenly off-spring; those are they (say you) which without controulement are troden downe: you speake of men, that are innocent, and accepted of God▪ with what strength soeuer they might haue, chuse rather to suffer, then to doe iniurie. Oh, these are they, amongst whome, are the auncient, and [Page 15] vncorrupted manners. His condition and minde (you say) where both alike before wee were. What, do you say there was a time, when neither of you were? yea rather, if you esteeme your selfe by that part, which truely is, you are not now born. Thou hast a soule deriued from that euerlastinge diuinitie, which hath more truely beautified thee, with this title to bee called man, then these sinewes, flesh and bones, taken out of the earth, which are truely earth. All of vs, are equally an off-spring of the Gods, and therefore in respect of this originall, ye are both equall. Thou art nothing I say, whosoe­uer thou art, lesse, or inferiour to him, whosoeuer he is. If any thing make a difference betwixt you, it is that earth, wherewith you are both couered. And is it this that troubleth thee? Doe you esteeme this a thing of that worth, that it should make you repent you of your condition? or rather if there be any ble­mish in this earthly parentage; why doe you not blotte it out with your vertuous arts? If there be any darkenesse, disperce it with a better light; if any base­nes, aduance it with vertue. Surely euerie excellent thing is lowe borne; and those, whome vertue first made eminent, she brought out of darkenesse. From hence they sent out most bright beames (as the Sun out of a cloud or storme) looke vppon those greate lights of Antiquitie (those famous professours, I meane of wisedome, and eloquence) and others excellent in all other Artes, Sciences, [Page 16] and learning; few of these but were meanely borne, and yet haue ingrafted their names to fame; that fame which wee see is the inseperable companion of immortalitie.

Let me not remember other great & (for deserts) famous names, I meane the great performers of warres, and builders of large Empires, who wrastling out of obscure births, from lowe beginnings, haue attained the height of things; compelling all things and men, to yeeld vnto them with vertue, glorie, and felicity. These are they who were the famous Au­tors of that, which afterward was called the aunciēt progeny, which haue made men beleeue that they are not borne of man, but of God: who after they had made the newnesse of their birth, great with vertue and admiration, they made themselues to be Imita­ted of all, and Imitable to few. These I account grea­ter, then their posterities, and in the opinion of wise men, much more honorable, in that the giuer is greater then the receiuer, and the patterne then him that imitates, vainely we deriue our sluggishnesse to our kindred; But he is noble enough, who hath that in him, whereby he may make himselfe noble: ney­ther [Page 17] is vertue, from our stocke, but contrarie. Ver­tue onely dooth adorne men. It is that onely, which maketh the euerflowing and lasting streame of No­bility, Honour, and Glory. VVho can therefore deny, but that humilitie or basenesse, or whatsoeuer it bee, is much bound to vertue, who only inableth all men, to become Honorable and excellent, Hee that carieth himselfe worthy his auncestors, dooth that which doth become him, but he that giueth an honour to others, is to his posterity a sacred dyety. Ridiculously you obiect obscurity to those, who do draw after them an excellency, and whose late vpri­sing dooth eminently shine, amongst those that are excellent, for not to bee degenerous, and the light we haue receiued from our auncestors, to conuey to our posterity; although it be worthy prayse, yet it is common, this latter as it is more famous, so it is more difficult. This is that, which Honorable and vnusuall vertue dooth vndertake, at this it aimeth, to this it directeth it selfe; that to persons places and things vnknowne and obscure it may giue Nobilitie. From hence we may conclude, not the lower a man is, but the worse he is, the more obscure hee is: and an obscure kindred is a [...] an vncleane puddle, from whence none can pull a plant, but he to whom ver­tue doth reach her hand, and whom she vndertaketh to aduance and increase. If thou propoundest this, to ascribe thy greatnesse onely to vertue, nor anie o­ther sinister meanes, by proceeding thou shalt bee [Page 18] inricht, honored, learned. And to conclude, then it shall bee manifest vnto thee, how vntruly thou hast complained of God, by whose commandemēt thou art borne in that condition, which with much dis­daine thou callest basenesse. Furthermore he, whom thou esteemest noble, doth bring forth the old and wormeaten monuments of his auncestours, in this more vehement vpbraiders of the vnworthinesse of their posteritie. And thou, to whome, thy auncestors haue left no outwrad ornament, where of thou maist boast, draw forth out of the generous, vertuous, and noble heart (the liuely image of the soule) true ver­tue; which thou maist deliuer to thy posterity to be imitated, subiect to no age, to no forgetfulnesse. By this meanes thou shalt rise to honour, and with infallible arguments, leaue thy true Nobility witne­ssed, and sealed to euerlasting posterities. From hence maist thou see how much thou art bound to GOD, who hath ingrafted that in thee, where­by thou indeauourest thy selfe, thou maist be ex­cellent. And if thy affections bee not so erected, nor thy liuelinesse so awaked, if thou doost not affect the highest dignities, if thou dost not aspire to these large aduantages of praise, yet indeauour that thou maist be found in the second rank. At the least compose thy selfe to Innocency and Simplicity; vertues no lesse acceptable to God, then the other that are more conspicuous. VVith these adorne thy selfe, and thy obscure family; so shall it come to [Page 19] passe that in this humility, thou shall finde matter large and sufficient, to make thee thankefull; which though they bee not exquisite, or curious, yet they shall not want their commendation, being priuate and sincere; and by so much more acceptable to him, who will be worshipped sincerely and in truth. Thus by thy example and inuitation, the rest of the vn­thankefull multitude, shall learne to acknowledge, and worship that diuine benignity; neither art thou onely vnthankefull, for there is no mortall man that lyeth not sicke of this Infirmity.

I See him also who swelleth with the long catalogue of his auncestou rs, to be no lesse vnthankfull to God, then he that is borne darkely & of obscure parents. And although he doth not expostulate with God [...]is condition, in g [...]dging and complai­ning tearmes (such a [...] vsually are vttered from opini­on & sence of misery) [...]t whilst [...]th contempt and insolency, he disdaineth others, he sheweth his euill and vnthankefull mind, towards him that made him. In one word, hee wholly swelleth with foolish cogi­tations, and dooth as ill inter [...]t the benefits of God, as he that is most vnthankefull; neither can it be maruailed at, seeing he admitteth into counsell, Pride, Ignorance, Slouth [...] all which possesse him with an opinion of a false greatnesse, From hence hee be­ginneth [Page 21] to esteeme, and to loue himselfe, and in the fruition of this perswasion to despise others. The multitude (that is the common sort) both of town & country, it is strange how he disdaineth. It is the pro­perty of a sluggish insolent disposition, to think that he hath right to vse any man without respect as a vassall. For (saith he) I was no sooner a man, but I was borne Honorable. If I do respect both my pa­rents, I am able to deriue my petigree from auntiēt memory, and Honorable families: From hence I haue noble, and many affinities, vpon which I may leane and support my selfe. My riches and estate are answerable to these; and that which chiefely con­tents me, I see base persons borne to scarsity, and the bondslaues of pouerty. This man drudgeth cō ­tinually at plough: that man all the day long sitteth at some sordide trade to gaine his liuing: An other man he buieth cheape, to sell deare: and to that end saileth with danger into forraine seas: Another, hee studieth vnpleasing learning, to make a gain of in the market; I do not meane in the market where things are sold, but the market of gainefull knowledge, and the mercenary tongue, who euer finds out of other mens businesse a good aduantage to inrich them­selues. And the minds of all these, are base; and to this basenesse are ioyned deceits; and as brokers to these deceits vntruths. Now as I scorne all these courses, so I liue as a King amongst them; and that which these labour for, to that am I borne. There­fore [Page 22] my mind is not, as euery base fellowes; groue­ling; but hauty, erected, and full of high thoughts. For it weareth not it selfe away, in these sordide and obscure things, nor liues intangled in any base gaine. This is my excellent prerogatiue, that I am behol­ding to none. And other men before I was borne were in my debt, that men may vnderstand that I am not borne to my substance, but my substance to me. Besides I haue the best aduantages to rise to honour, to come to great preferments; and what other men can wish for, that can I no sooner hope for, but ob­taine it. Last of all (which is the chiefest of all) that other men do liue in safety, it is by the meanes of me, and such as I am. For if any publique danger arise, then is the common safety required and expected, at our hands. It belongeth to our honours, to defende our countries, and offend our enemies. It belongeth to vs, to haue the chardge, and the leading of them. We performe these businesses, as with the aduance­ment of inferiours and meane persons, so with the in larging and increase of our owne Honours.

From hence are deriued speciall ornamentes to persons and families; from hence riches, au­thority; from hence feare and reuerence amongst all; who will not confesse, that hee, that is no­bly borne, blest as it were againe, mighty in follow­ers: great in honour: strong in power: liues the life, and the only liuing life? and that he hath cause suf­ficient, to gratulate his owne good fortune, for his [Page 23] owne happinesse. And that hee may proceede, to make experience, of his owne felicity, in all things that himselfe desireth: therefore freed from al cares, I will take what pleasure so euer may bee had: I am purposed to tast all that may season my life. Tush a­way with those sowre fellowes, which vrge (if wee would heare them) harsh and seuere admonitions & doo odiously impose vpon vs, I know not what sad wisedome gotten out of schooles and hid in bookes; whereupon they often knit there seuere browes, as if the common wealth did lye vpon them: all which for mine owne part, I esteeme not a rush; and to say truth, to me there is nothing more odious, then these men, whom I may very well call ditchers to dig out truth of, and torments to vexe other mens simpli­cities; for my owne part I am taught suf­ficiently, by my Honorable auncestours.

I See thy disdainefull spirit, and heare thy words and the discouerers of thy folly; & to conclude thy blindnesse, and vnthank­full mind; which thou confidently op­poseth against the benefits of God, least thou shoul­dest confesse them. So farre hath thy disdaine whol­ly besotted thee; so farre hath thy sinister dispositi­on spotted thy faire estate and honorable condition: thou saist thou wert a man and noble, both at once; thou doost please mee in that at the first ente­rance, thou confessest thy selfe a man; although I knowe this speach, rather foll from thee vna­wares, then was spoken with any consideration. For in that worde, thou art putt in minde of thy beginning, which is common to thee with the lowest of the common sort; And although thou [Page 25] contemne him in respect of thy selfe, as one grow­ing out of the dunghill, yet he hath the same begin­nings of humanitie, that thou hast; His life is to bee run in the same race, and with the same course, must he finish the period of his mortalitie & to conclude, he flyeth aloft with the same wings of eternitie that thou doest. In one word thou art not more a man then hee (or to say more plainely) hee is as much a man as thou. But thou proceedest further, to set forth thy selfe, and him, that by comparing, thou maist grow insolent; depressing him, whilst thou ad­uancest thy selfe; esteeming him, as base, and of no reckoning.

Herein, if any man should aske thee, what Nobilitie is, I know thou wilt answere, it is the Honor and Anti­quitie of Kindred; But I will tell thee some-thing more plainely, and more soundly, that thou who dost admire nothing so much as thy kindred, by which thou growest insolent, yet mayst confesse, to be true: Nobilitie, I say is an honor due to a vertue emi­nēt, & publikly profitable; not only in his person, that first doth it, but also in his posterity, which are not adulterate, ingrafted, or degenerous: And therefore Note, is onething, and Nobilitie is an other. Many are of Note, of whom we are to take heed, as of mon­sters, but he that is truely Noble, it is a vertue, and a dutie, to knowe him. Thou, when thou wert first borne, broughtest no vertue into the worlde with thee, therefore thou mightest be of Note, as one [Page 26] richly borne, and of a great family, but thou couldest not be Noble; but only in the suffrages, and wishes of those, who fauour the name, vertue and posteri­tie of the Auncestours, from whence thou art des­cended; and from thence presupposing all these to be in thee. For men are naturally apt, to hope for those vertues in thee, which are promised in thy birth. For all good men (saith Tullie) fauour No­bilitie, both, because it is profitable to the Commō ­wealth, that Noble men be worthy their ancestours, and because the memorie of honorable men, who haue deserued well of the Commonwealth (though dead) doth and ought to preuaile, with vs. And ther­fore thy Nobilitie; then when thou wert borne, was in hope, not in being, peraduenture in the roote, not yet in the braunches; neither doth alwaies,

Now when thou art growne vp, and stronge, I demand, wherin thou dost make men know, that the honorable, and happie vertues of thy famely, are not withered in thee. How shal we vnderstand that thou who art begotten, & borne of great hope dost grow to the glorie of thy auncestours, & that the fruite so much hoped for, doth grow out of thy braunches? Where is thy auncient bloud? Where is the In­dustrie of thy fore-fathers? Where is the glorie of [Page 27] thy house? I graunt the signes, and tokens of honor, may be receiued either from thy Auncestors, or from the Prince: but Nobilitie and honor it selfe, is the rewarde of thy owne vertue. That vertue, which in things acceptable to the people, doubtful, and full of profit, and hazard, at all times, and by all meanes, doth show it selfe; which in the time of peace, and securitie, erecteth the ensignes of pie­tie, and iustice, wherein all both publike and pri­uate felicities are contained; and then doth bringe foorth troppes of all those vertues, which are hand­maids to both. And when the Common-wealth, is disquieted with warrs, either at home, or abroad, doth oppose against the enemie, Fortitude, and what ver­tue soeuer is a companion to it; for what vertues, for what prayses art thou to be esteemed? speake boldly. Instead of answere, I see thy doubting: for that which is not, neither can the tongue vtter, nor the minde conceiue. Seing therefore thou wilt say nothing, I will answere for thee. But canst thou here? In one word, neither vertue, nor praise, that either I, or thou, or any man els knoweth, is in thee. But goe to, with what right or with what confidence, dost thou vsurpe this same honorable title of Nobilitie, which thou admirest in thy selfe, and for which thou thinkest thy selfe so excellent? It is (thou saist) the gift of my ance­stours, as are the other signes of Nobilitie, where­of I boast. I heare the name; I see the signes; but I de­sire the thing. [Page 28] [...] [Page 29] [...] [Page 26] [...] [Page 27] [...] [Page 28] I feare least the auncient honor of thy forefathers, in thy person, be darkened and growen out of vse. If not, as it was first gained by men, vertuous, and true­ly valiant, so it ought to be borne againe, in thee, this Nobilitie, which thou boastest to be born with thee: neither can any thinge bee more foolish, then to bee called, that which thou art not. Nothing hath more affinitie with slouth, then to be willing, to bee taken for another, then thou art. Nothing is more vniust, then to vsurpe another mans, for thine owne. Nothing is more shameles, then to desire to be estee­med Noble for kindred, not for vertue. Neither is vertue transferred with the same facilitie, that pos­sessions, are to the heyers. Vertue is euerie mans pro­per, and peculiar good: and whosoeuer hath not this, doth not only carrie the Idle, but the odious name, and title of Nobilitie. But thou boastest of those, whose posteritie thou art, and desirest men to obserue thy petigree. Well if I should doe so much for thee, and by degrees go backe with thee, to him whose father first gaue honor to thy familie, perad­uenture I should bring thee to a beginning, thou wouldest bee ashamed of: why art thou pase? It is auncient, that Plato saith, Seruants doe come of Kings, and of seruants doe come Kinges. And what maruaile? For vertue her selfe, doth giue bondslaues, oftētimes not only libertie, but Kingdomes. And vertue ex­posed to the iniurie of fortune, doth best show what euerie man is. And therefore if thou wilt know [Page 29] what thou art, who and how great thou art, defende not thy selfe with this glorious title, borrow not the vertues of others, but bring forth thy own; thou foo­lishly boastest the benefit of thy stocke, if thou suffe­rest thy ancestours that are dead, to be better known then thy selfe, that art aliue: Show how much true nobilitie there is in thee, that is, how much vertue in thy minde, how much faith in thy words, and deeds. Show from what stocke thou art. By this meanes shall men esteeme thee in hope greater, for fame better, and for inward vprightnesse, more commen­dable, that thus honours, may be giuen thee, not thy kindred, thy person, not thy name, thy manners, notthy auncestours.

Kindred and our stocke is like a faire Table, which either may be made more beautifull by a picture, or polluted and defaced with staines. If those things be ioyned to thy birth which do make thy birth greate, thē are the praises of thy auncestours renued; if those things, which do blemish thy stocke, then there is lit­tle greatnes in thy kindred, & in those things that are annexed to it; Infamie, & reproach? These are those polluted staines, that deface the Images of our fore­fathers, [Page 30] which the more honorable, they showe our auncestours to be, the greater and more intollerable; is the slouth of their sluggish and degenerous poste­ritie.

Now with the insolency of thy kindred, thou dost arrogantly remember thy supporters, thy Affinitie, & Riches; which are good to those that vse them well, but to those that vse them otherwise, are euill; Nay, carefully take heede least the aboundance and harm­full plentie of ouermuch riches, drowne thy narrow, and weake minde in many vices, and consume those seedes of vertue, that are planted in thee, for

If thou truely vndestoodest how little or nothing, riches do helpe to vertue, then thou wouldest thinke more mildly, and more honestly of pouertie, and of the poore multitude painefully, and profitably dis­posed into vertuous courses. For Cities do not sound with noyse of worke men, and artificers to no pur­pose. Let these seeme base to dilicat minds, whilest experience telleth vs, that they are only commodi­ous, but of most knowne and absolute necessitie. esteeme not so disdainefully of those things, without which riches hath nothing, for which they are more to bee desired then pouertie: And to conclude, without which, no kinde of life can well be. Neither the Countrie, the Citie, the Court, nor the campe. [Page 31] For as in the bodie, the thighes, legges, and feete, though they be in inferiour, yet are not in worse and lesse needfull place, then the armes, and the shoul­ders; so these kinde of men doe inioye that roome, and place in the Common-wealth, which if they for sake, it must needes fall. For whethersoeuer Necessity extends it selfe, thither reacheth art, which is natures follower. For as great and wise states-men gouerne our liues, so artificers and workemen serue our liues: whilst they furnish and adorn our liues with their ne­cessarie vses. Woe vnto mans weakenes if it bee de­stitute of these helpes, for none of these but liueth ac­cording to Gods rule, because hee can show how he liueth; which whosoeuer in old time could not doe, it was death vnto him; which custome Augustus, that famous name, amongst the Roman Emperours, precisely obserued, when he obtained the Decemuirs of the Senat, that euerie Knight might giue an ac­count how hee liued, And of those that were disalowed, some were punished, and some noted with infamie. Therefore if thy birth aduance thee, their industrie commended them; and as thy con­dition of life is hyer, so theirs is much saffer, and more assured; For whilst they are about good busi­nesse, they auoyd Idlenesse, and serue the Common-wealth, whatsoeuer is necessary to the cōmonwealth to applie thy witte, and thy hand, to that, though it bee not glorious, yet it is honest. Furthermore in that thou reprehendest husbandrie, thou dealest [Page 32] frowardnes, and after the manner of the Thralians which prouokest thy nourisher, without which thou mayst neede, thou maist hunger: Besides it is a kinde of life, most sincere, and most innocent. In it, there is againe, vertuous, most stable, least enuious; For the Diuine nature (saith Varro) gaue feilds, but humane arte built cyties. Surely of husbandmen (saith Cato) are borne the strongest, and best souldiers; and men of least harmefull thoughts, are they that liue of husbandry. Next vnto these are Merchants, which seasonably prouide for mens necessities, whilst they so mingle the commodities of seuerall Countries, that whatsoeuer is afforded any where, may bee founde euerie where. It is a fauourable trade, and that which mingleth in trafficke, all the Kinge­domes of the earth: But at this daye, with much losse to the Common-wealth neglected. For there are a kinde of vulgar and common people, who neclecting the honest course of auoyding pouertie, and inriching their families, doe ambitiously affect honors, which are euer sumptuous. From hence po­uertie creepeth into their houses, & frō their houses into the Common-wealth, which wanteth wealth to vphold it. Besids, that which is gotten by Marchan­dise, is not so much to be tearmed the praye of coue­tousnes, as the Instrument of bountie, cleanlines, ho­nestie, and honor. Take away the spots of the mind, & with all you take away the staines of the thing; & whereas you say that Merchantes wearie their time [Page 33] with oars, & passe the trobled seas, that in my opiniō, is the chiefe praise of such resolute Industrey, which, that it may perfect that which it hath begun, strongly contendeth with all difficulties, and euer aduentureth vpon new dangers, whilst it passeth into farre pla­ces, in despight of all lets. Surely men trauailing from their natiue soyle, dismayd with no distance of place, affraid of no barbarisme, tamed with long & often patience, euer imployed, alwayes carefull of their affaires, must needes returne homefull of all knowledge. From hence rich aduantages are deri­ued to the commonwealth, because all, from that which is euery mans, dooth iustly receiue a benefit. Besids, the wits & capacities of many, by this means are made more exquisit & in the managing of afaires haue a riper knowledge, and more perfect wisedom, whilst euery man maketh a profit of an others expe­riēce. Now Iudge if there be any thing in this which either thou or any man can dispraise, and not rather commend, and admire. Besides, from great Mer­chandise, arise often great reuenewes, and from great reuenewes deriued innocently to their vertu­ous posterities, Nobility. And this I see to be and euer to haue been the iudgment and account of e­uery honest, and wise man, as right so by publike cō ­sent most approued. But whilst out of euery thing, you take that which is worst, that from the faults of men (an vsuall fault) you may take occasion to de­base whatsoeuer you despise, as your manner is) you [Page 34] also scoffe the Lawyer. Neither you doo consider, that euery mans doubtfull estate, destitute of this so profitable a defence, dooth easily run headlong, and the helpe which a man wanteth in himselfe, by this meanes he findeth in an other. For this cause there is nothing more excellent, then to exceed in faith, wisedome, and eloquence; because there is nothing more full of humanity, and more deuine then to bestow so many and so great ornaments, and the whole course of our life in defending of other mens dangers. For whosoeuer amidst so many and so great tempests of this life, and in this vnbridled licentiousnesse of impiety, mildely doth helpe the af­flicted, or bestoweth his labour in so troublesome an office; hee is to all men as a fortunate and sauing Starre. For men are not more bound to any man for any thing, then to see part of their burden deri­ued vppon an other; and by a substitute care with an vnited force, their owne weakenesse to bee supported. Of what reckoning the praise of this hath beene (that I may call thee to auntient and fa­mous exampels) the Noble Romanes well vnder­stood; From hence they made their enterance to fame, and besids these, Consuls and men worthy to haue triumphed gained in the defence of causes be­fore Iudges, no lesse opinion & matter of prayse, then when they before had triumphed ouer their con­quered enemies.

For these men after things valiantly and fortu­nately [Page 35] performed, made knowne that the valiantest breasts are often accompanied with the happiest wittes; and that the best wits haue often the grea­test eloquence, and that the praise that riseth from hence, is equall with the campe, and deserueth as much, as to bee a valiant Leader. For the profits that arise from hence, are not lesse then those which proceede from the other. Therefore I beseech you what enuy is it, if at this day there be not a meanes of more honorable aduantage, both to attaine riches, and greatnesse then this is? In that you say mercenarily, they set to saile, a thinge that is excellent, you note foorth the faults of men, and not diminish the dignity of their calling; take from them extortiones, re­mooue wranglings, cut off indirect courses, abo­lish all base and vnworthy dealing, (things seuerely punishable by lawe) the honesty of the thing re­maineth from which these fees and deserued al­lowances doo no whit detract, nor any other lawe doth giue iust imputation of basenesse, which forbid the corruption of a mercenary tongue. Neither is it fit, that this kinde of men, both priuately and publikely so profitable, should be depriued of the iust recompence, and fruite of their labour, seeing those auntient honours, due to this gowned war­fare are taken from them, dignity and Office; in place whereof haue succeeded these which properly and fitly are called Honorable fees; both, because [Page 36] they are giuen for honour, to honest men, and for an honest cause. Besids, this is as a seminary, from whence princes doo take not onely men skilfull in law and iustice, but those who weare fit to sit at the helme of the common wealth, and to be of counsell to kings: And seeing their office is but a part of the Prince his charge, what hath the armour & the sheild, why it should despise as base, the gowne, and the pen. Let these imployments be accounted ob­scure shadowes, whilst we must needs confesse, that they are very great, and very profitable, and there­fore very honorable. And whereas thou sayst, thou hast no base mind but high and generous; I should prayse thee if this were truly spoken; if in steade of high and great, thou didst not shew thy selfe a con­temner of those things, which ought to be much esteemed. For the greatnesse of the minde, is not discerned by swelling wordes, but by the often and accustomable vse of vertue; and things that are boa­sted of, are nothing but a disdaine of the eares; and a loathing and hatred to the mind. And this appea­reth in that thou saist those things wheare-with thou swellest, were first thine, before thou wert the worlds or inioyed this light. From hence thou gatherest, that thou wert not borne to serue them, but all these things to serue thee.

These speeches are the rules of pride, and the arguments of thy Ignorance: as though thou were borne to some other end, then all others are; and [Page 37] not to worship and reuerence him, whose gift it is, that thou art, and who hath commaunded thee no lesse to procure other mens good, then thy owne. VVhich is not done, by idle think­ing, and proude expecting, what honours men doo vnto thee, And wherein they doo wor­shippe thee but in a diligence of profitable duties, and in a vertuous▪ and willing readinesse, to doo good. This will prooue those Honours that do come to meete thee, not rashely to bee caste and throwne vppon thee, as a liberty, not to bee as spoyles are, but to bee giuen with good aduise, as to one who placeth true honour, first in his owne conscience before the iudgments and opinions of men; rather in the vprightnesse of behauiour, then in the glory of titles. For he that is any thing or little lesse then his honour, is not honoured by it at all, but ouer-loaden. Therefore thou must consider circumspectly vp­on what confidence thou boastest thy honours; which are so, to those whome they doo adorne, or thy great Ecclesiasticall dignities which thou estee­mest best, that are most rich, not most holy; and what holinesse is required of those, who aspyre vnto that honour. A Preest sayth the Arch-bi­shop of Rauennas (who had his Name from his goulden speech) is the forme of Vertue. Thou boastest also thy Dukedomes and thy [Page 38] Lordships, which to whōsoeuer they are cōmitted, to those also is committed the common and pub­lique safety. Take from a Generall the arts and true properties of a generall, hee is not a generall, but a trifler; fatally erected as a destroier, and subuerter of the common good.

If thou vnderstoodest the greatnesse of this bur­den, thou wouldest constantly refuse it, seeing, who­soeuer gouerneth without iust furniture for such a chardge, doth not gouerne and command, but man doth commit this chardge to a vaine glorious, and improuident man, exercised in nothing, strengthe­ned with no good counsell, relying only vpon his birth, not his owne firme vertue, what shall become of the commonwealth? Doo you not see, and must you not confesse, that a sword is giuen to a mad man wherewith he woundeth himself and him that meets him? Nay, wherewith he slaieth the commō wealth? Do you then call this praise, honour, fame, which is a staine, and infamy, a reproach? Alas, I am sorry, least thou flatter thy selfe with a fauourable & plausa­ble error, & that be happines to thee which is vnhap­pines in the opiniō of others, whilst thou boastest of the goods of the body, and fortune, insteade of the goods of the mind, & things which are of low place, thou placest a lost and which are impediments, thou settest in the forefront of honour: Mans true good­nesse is in the minde, which if it be furnished with profitable arts, it neither admireth these as rewards, [Page 39] nor refuseth them as accessions, to his rewards, as things wherein there is neither praise nor honour, because they make no man better, they make no man worse. Hee is very idle that admireth these things; seeing then that kindred without vertue is neither good, nor euill, and that possessions by many casu­alties may faile, and so the multitude of followers forsake a man, it must needes bee, that honour is no greater then you that haue it; the strength of it then being in the hands of others, what is it that thou carriest thy selfe so proudley? and as though thou hadst placed thy selfe and all that is thine in safety? thou aimest only at this, that laying all care aside, thou maist cast thy selfe into the armes of pleasure, which will poyson the good bloud if there be any in thee; if any vertue, it will weaken it, if any beauty, it will staine it. O strange error! He that may haue true and permanent good things, to take pleasure in things of no continuance; beleeue me, to liue a life; idle, and full of pleasure, is not to liue, but he which bestoweth his time vpon vertue, all parts of his life, are beautifull and full of pleasure. This is that, which the seuerity of the schoole teacheth, & which is contained in the monuments of those, who labour to drawe men from vice, and commend vertue. Dost thou account these seuere admonitions, that are wholesome, and indeede nothing els but Gods own voice, which awaketh those which are drowsie, calleth backe those that do erre, confirmeth those [Page 40] that are weake, and blesseth all? To these coun­sels thy fore-fathers obeyd, whose examples in like manner, I wish thou wouldest followe, in this respect that they are familiar, domesti­call, and not farre sought. It was not their sluggish and voluptuous life, that gained those things to thee which puffe thee vppe. But first they were Conquerers of their owne faults, and of their enemies forces: With both these they gayned triumphant Garlands: which with thee I feare me will wither, waxe pale, and lose their greenenesse; From these if thou hast receiued a­ny motions to vertue, thou art very vnfortunat, if thou doost not perfect them, with all labour, and immitation. By this meanes thou shalt not bee loaden with the honorable Images, of Aun­cestours, but thou shalt increase thy Coun­trie with a greate Citizen, and an Honourable Autor, to thy posteritie. This one thinge, shall bee a meanes, to make thee like those, from whome thou art discended; so that, they shall bee thought either borne againe, or to liue in thee, whose glorie by thy vertue, thou hast renewed. From hence maist thou bee thankefull to GOD, who hath placed thee in this watch­tower, that thou mayst neuer cast thy eyes, from the Commonwhealth; but bee as profi­table vnto it, as thy condition requireth; which by this meanes only thou mayst make excellent. [Page 41] If thou art otherwise minded, the more insolent­ly thou boastest of that prerogatiue, the violent­ly doth thy arrogancie discouer it selfe; thou shalt perceiue (but too late) thy great fault, and thy greater punishment.

AMongst vnthankefull persons, I note the poore man also, whom it is strang not to see quarelous, & cōplaining of his estate, what (saith hee) is this strength of bodie, this beautie, this health, if I must wrestle with pouertie, which defaceth all these? I see other mens houses full of riches, but mine emptie, and full of spiders; I see this man borne fortunatly, but my selfe vnder some ill, and vnfortunat planet; for at this day euerie man is esteemed, as his riches are; this man is hawtie, proud, and insolent, be­cause he possesseth much; but I am lowe, and base, be­cause my estate is small; this man (because hee is rich) wanteth no occasion of prayse euerie where, and I that am poore, of reproch and dis­grace:

Who then can deny, but that I haue cause to complaine, that I am euill delt with all? For to what ende should hee liue, who is compassed with all the discommodities of life?

O Man, I did thinke thee to bee poore, but not in this manner that I now see thee, namely with a pouertie much worse, and farre more dangerous. to thee as to the rest of the multitude, whether thou hast riches or no, it is in others mens power; and thou dost not consider that nothing is more subiect to robber, theeues, fire, and other innu­merable casualties then they are; Oh, how rich wert thou, and consequently how happie, if thou knowest how these things are to bee valued at their iust price; then thou shouldest vnderstande, true riches to bee placed in the minde, which if it bee equall to it selfe, not a couetous, not an admirer of anothers, not an enuier of any mans estate, not an ambitious affector of any mans greatnes, it may then contend in happi­nes, [Page 45] with any mans felicitie. But from pouertie to vertue thou sayst the way is harde, full of difficulties, and almost beset: hard I graunt, but not beset, for a minde that is truely great, hauing vertue pro­pounded as a reward, doth cast downe whatsoeuer is a let vnto it; & the diligent and industrious mind, doth cōquer those things which to slouth seeme im­pregnable. Nay, what if vertue be neerer in freind­ship to pouertie, then to enuious riches? Surely, the waye to vertue seemeth more readie, by which pouertie creepeth, then that wherein riches boast.

For pouertie, and faith, a good minde and true valour, are often inseperable companions; but to riches, there cleaueth oftentimes, the drosse of leaud­nesse, insolencie, and slouth, many haue liued fortu­natly, by induring pouerty patiently; a weake minde (and who allmost hath not a weake minde) is easily corrupted with riches. Antiquitie made Plutus the God of riches, to bee the sonne of for­tune.

To euill men, a friende, and with gaine a corrup­ter [Page 48] of all things: and as a man may bringe forth an infinit number of poore men, which with frugalitie, and sparing, as with sure, stayres, haue climed vp a loft. so there be millions of rich men headlonge cast downe, whether riotousnes, and pleasure, sweete (but pesti'ent vices) haue led them. From this wombe, haue proceeded so many troupes of sinnes, so many Idle slow bellies, as the Gretians call them: fatte and vnweildly.

For it often happeneth that whosoeuer seeketh to enter into fame, beginneth with vertue, & endeth with sin, and iniuries: with vertue, whilst he is poore, with sinne, through the perswasion of increasing ri­ches. Thou saist, rich men haue a plaine way to ver­tue: I graunt it plaine, but deceitfull; and in it there are a thousande windings of vices, a thousande al­lurements of pleasures, a thousande by-pathes of er­rors: for to rich men, that desire to sinne, all wayes are open, but a poore man that declineth some­times from the waye of vertue, necessitie (as it were by the hande) leadeth him to the right way: for whilest hee indeuoureth himselfe, to that which is harde, and full of difficultie, hee scarce euer tur­ned his eyes, from vertue, which is his loade­starre. Then in suffering labor, hee inuiteth dili­gence, [Page 49] frugalite, modestie, and going vnto vertue, hee only treadeth the right pathes of vertue. The way peraduenture is hard, but direct, and sure; for hee is much more nimble in this course, then hee that walketh loaden with burdens, whome many things call aside, many things do hinder, and howe much hee goeth on, so much hee soundly reioyceth that he hath profited.

Then hee is infinitely inflamed to the rest of his iourney that remaines, and hee is so ioy­full in his proceeding, that hee is scarce con­tent with a mediocritie; and to conclude, hee thinketh nothing done, if hee haue not perfe­cted what hee hath begunne, and by so much more hee imbraceth his owne pouertie, by howe much hee seeth, more occasions hereby offered to lay a side, and to putte off his base­nesse, and to conquer lettes, and also to obtaine honor.

Surely, if a man wash away those staynes, that cleaue to euerie man from his birth, if then hee bee beautifull, and like the Champion of vertue, if hee then be reckoned amongst those, that be honorable, if with the guiding of vertue, hee come for to gouerne the Commonwealth, if from the plough (as the prouerbe is) hee bee ad­uanced to the scepter, if hee bee in his owne knowledge a performer of honorable attemptes; then shall hee perceiue what it is to serue [Page 48] vnder such a captaine, when he seeth so great allow­ance made vnto those that follow him; besides often­times to a man in danger, there is no hauen safer then pouertie.

Therefore yet reuerence thy pouertie, O thou poore man, that the rich man may vnderstand, that he hath not more safetie in his riches, then thou hast in the prouident dispensation of thy want, and as one, that now standeth in the entrance, and doore to happinesse, lay aside that malitious and vnthankefull minde, which doth more pollute thee by much, then thy owne pouerty; cast away deformed slouth, and the complaints annexed to it; frame due thanks vnto God not borne in the mouth, but in the heart; know that hee can deuide better, then thou canst choose; Giue more largely then thou canst ake; and prouide farre better then thou canst wish. If at any time thy thoughts licentiously doo wander, perswaded by a leuity, and obliuion, that is by an vngratefull minde, then bridle them with the raines of feare, and of modesty; if they be shut vp and narrowe, stirre them vp and inlarge them to receiue GODS benefits bestowed vpon thee; for GODS goodnesse oftentimes, offering it selfe to thy minde, with oft handling, will make [Page 49] thee of a quarrelous and vngratefull complainer, a secret admirer; and a diligent worshipper of that goodnesse, which hath made thee poore for so rich a re­ward.

THough basenesse and pouerty doo chal­lenge vnto themselues this liberty, that without controlement they may be qua­relous, and euer barking, yet thou that art rich, what meanest thou, to thee alone, and to thy vse, there is as much digged, and ploughed, as is sufficient to serue a multitude: thou buildest more largely, then any of thy neighbours, men [...]urrowe the seas, for thy proffit; in one word thou doost not possesse riches, but treadst them vnder foote; yet for all this, I doo not see thee more re­ligious, more thankfull, then if thou haddest none of those, I doo obserue thy minde to bee narrowe, [Page 51] and vncapable of those thinges, wherewith thou a­boundest, so that thou art not madde after one fa­shion; for I finde three sortes of rich men, the de­licate, prodigall, and sordide: I call those that delicate rich men, which are euer loathing and ta­king dislike; to whome the plenty of these things are wearisome, which other men much desire; they are almost dull if they bee not euer awaked with some newe thinge, they are alwaies doubting of so many inticements of pleasures which they may choose, which they may take, which they may vse presently, which they may differre; those thinges which nowe please them, presently they mislike, thus giuing themselues ouer to all delight [...], they know not what to doo with riches▪ so scorne­fully doth this delicate sort of people vse them. Thus plenty is a burden to them, so hath riotousnesse made their minds effeminate:

[Page 52] O yee trifling rich men dissolued and without si­newes, which from so many benefits of God haue learned to forget him. O men worthy to suffer cold, heat, and hunger; who only seeme to haue a curious iudgment in an euill cause; who are not gluttons, and belly-gods, to haunt brothell houses and stewes, but euer being neatly dect, professe a learned riotousnes; who only speake finely, and filthely; who only seeme to know and professe all parts of pleasure, who suf­fer no home-borne-thing to be about you, for whom only are inuented so many effeminate arts. and vn­seemely trauailes of this age; yet notwithstanding you must confesse, that these so many commodi­ties, haue brought so many discommodities to you, that no pleasure can delight you, nothing (how great soeuer) can make you happy, nor any of these wo­manish ornaments can set you out. Can it possi­ble bee that indued with such proposterous mindes, you should acknowledge the fauour of God? You should esteeme it? you should speake of it? But rather yee, if yee haue any respect vnto your selues, leaue off to bee so angry with your selues.

Those things which are superfluous to you, be­cause you corrupt them with euill vsing, those things (I say) deuide amongst the poore, as too much for your selues; lay aside this [...] as ouergreat for you; learne to bee content with a little, and this little, to vse wel; seeing ye haue abused so much, so long; neuer [Page 53] being equall & vpright to your selues, to others bur­densome, and vniust. O yee much more happy, if this aboundance of loathed and superfluous choise, weare taken from you; and those pleasures where­with ye are drunke: so that there were no more left vnto you, then wherewithall to maintaine life. If so many benefits of God cannot tel you to a sounder iudgment, yet at least haue pitty vpon your selues: feare and tremble, at the end of vnthankefull per­sons. Chiefely take heede least being brought vnto pouerty, yee learne when it is to late, to esteeme those things which so proudely yee now loath, and that which is now by too much aboundance a wearinesse, in the end by want and scarcitie become your sorrow.

YEE prodigall rich men, which growe insolent with foolish pleasures, and do scoffe your riches, which with vnseem­ly expences doe waste that which vvas gotten with other mens labour; doubtlesse for you is wouen a web of much ill; alas how am I affraide for you, least you make restitution to the last far­thing for these euill expenses; and least in the ship­wracke of a rich patrimony, you perish against the rocke of extreame necessity. In what place should I reckon you, you that are so inconsiderate, such enemies to your owne estates? And to conclude, such vnmindfull and sluggish contemners of so ma­ny benefits of God; If I call you foolish, filthy swine, gulphes and whirlepooles; if roging and riotous ea­ters, I speake but as it is. For there is nothing can deliuer you from infamy & from those punishments which are companions to it; will you neuer vnder­stand, [Page 55] that this substance was so richly bestowed vp­on you, not to be an iustrument of madding & fran­tick desires, not a coach to draw you to all pleasures not a nourishment to your ryotousnesse; not foode to your vnsatiable bellies, But that rather amidst heape of riches, should shine your modesty, shame­fastnesse, frugality, sobriety, and your especiall thank­full mind to God. It is no praise to be rich, but it is a glorious thing in the midst of riches to be tempe­rate; and from his daily allowance euer to lay some thing aside, to relieue those who haue neede of a helping hand and a ready and seasonable liberality. These are those gratefull thankes, which he requi­reth of you, who is the great bestower of all bene­fites, and whome mortality can requite in nothing, but in a thankefull minde. If in this yee are deafe, if yee are taken with a deadly sleepe, if you con­tinue thus lewdly, and riotously to wast that which is left vnto you; then when you haue worne out your riches, and are commen to extreame pouerty, and later then was fit are awaked out of this Lethargy; you shall finde none of all those things, which your folly hath already spent, your throats haue already deuoured, your lusts haue al­readie consumed, and your madnesse hath pro­digally wasted. Doe yee not perceiue, (vnlesle you haue loste all sence) what punishment there is in this sinne? Doe you not perceiue an in­iury to your strength, to your valoure, to your [Page 56] name, to your health? Dooth not all the force and vigour of your mind, by degrees waste? doth not the strength of your body by little and little faile you? Doth not this manifolde, and deformed euill pri­uately pestilent, ouerthrowe Cityes and great Em­pires? VVas not this euer the opinion of auntient seuerity, which made so many lawes against sump­tuous ryot to expell this monster? Oh GOD, why at this day is not the like seuerity reuiued? see­ing this furious Monster yet liueth, that it may re­presse it? Surely if it were, things would not haue commen to this monstrous dissolutenesse of ryot, in this kinde exceedingly ingenious, to finde out e­uery houre something, whereby euery man wa­sting his substance, may perish after a new manner. If you haue no respect, if no shame can keepe you in any limits: if your owne reputations will not, yet let your losses mooue you; especially that fa­tal consumption which wasteth both you and yours: for

feare the iudgments of GOD; And least you bee founde amongst those, who are most vnthankefull, [Page 57] and most impure; learne at length to spare those things to good vses, which that diuine bountie, not only with gentle, but liberall hande, hath bestowed vpon you.

And these thinges, being thus recouered from your riotous madnesse, deuide them to the vse of those, by whose holy prayers, and deuout wishes, you may be deliuered from eternall puni­ment.

BVt O thou sordide and couetous rich man, I see thee also drowned in this pud­dle. I do finde thee also amongst those that are vnthankefull. Thou, O thou that art malice it selfe, who with bleared eyes loo­kest vpon euerie thinge that is not within thy owne hedges.

Who in the midst of thy riches layest open thy pouertie, whilst thou dost not esteeme those thinges thou hast, but lookest at those things thou couetest; whilst thou gapest after other mens, & scrapest from thy neighbours; Euer being a thirst, euen in a doub­ting and feare, with a headlong hope, and gready de­uouring vnsatiable expectatiō. thou man, of no rek­coning, who art the sightest apendix of thy substāce; O clay wrought vp with the filth of coueteousnesse. O Insatiable gulph; Ovnsatisfied puddle; are these the [Page 59] thanks that thou giuest to God? dost thou so esteeme his bountie? For what else shall I call these madde wishes, and endlesse desires? this theeuish robbing disposition, but a cōplaining and vnthankeful mind? This substance (asit seemeth) is not a pleasure vnto thee, but a torment. Dost thou thinke that these were heaped vppon thee to this ende, to make a hooke of, to pull all things to thee? that no eye, no watch, no mans care, can be a sufficient defence, but that thou spoylest this man, thou robbest that man, thou hurtest him, thou vndoest an other, whersoeuer thou hast any thing to do, all things are wasted, con­sumed and deformed by thee? O God hee that hath bestowed so much riches vpon thee, hath bestowed them vpon thee to that ende, that with a bountifull minde, and liberall hand thou shouldest imitate the giuer, thou shouldest inioyne thy selfe a sober absti­nence, and willing pouertie, thou shouldest worship him in the person of the poore, who when hee was here, preferred pouertie before riches: not that thou shouldest compasse and infold about thine owne, and others; as a Dragon doth a hidde treasure, which neither taketh it himselfe, nor suffereth others to vse it.

And amongst so many benefits of God, thou dost only be wray a rauenous, furious, and vnthfankull mind. I beseech thee acknowledge that these lets are remooued from thee, which hinder the attaining of thinges excellent; and that the occasions are taken [Page 60] away, into which, pouertie doth oftē thrust men with violence: Surely, from riches to vertue, the way, if it be not straighter, yet it is more easie, then from po­uertie: peraduenture thou wilt say, it is more deceit­full: I graunt, to a man that is not sufficiently cir­cumspect: but to a man warie and diligent, this way by riches is much the shorter. Blot out of thy minde (O thou rich man) whatsoeuer doth defame thee, as a rauenous wilde beast, in the mouthes of men; and the richer thou art, by so much, liue more warily: and then inioy and spare not, what thou hast gotten; at length rest and fauour thy selfe; tor­ment not thy selfe with perpetuall gaping after what­soeuer may begotten; this done, then more reuerent­ly and more carefully, giue thankes to him, who as (when he might not haue giuen these things to thee) yet gaue them freely, so he now may take them from thee, prouoked by thy vnsound and vnthankefull minde.

THen these that I haue remēbred, he is no lesse vnthankefull, whom infirmitie of bodie, and desperate sickenesse, hath tyed vnto his bed; who afflicted with continuall torments, pineth and wa­steth; O life (saith he) liker a death, then life; yea a cō ­tinuall death do I liue, who am borne to continuall punishment, whome greefes daily torment, what profit is it for me to be borne into this light, when this light is to me a punishment? If this my life bee continually vext with feare of death, miserie, and greefe: if in the ende it bee concluded with a death, slowe and bitter, and aunswerable to the rest of my [Page 62] life; As pouertie is greeuous to the poore man, base­nesse a reproach to the ignoble, and to euerie man that which doth most oppresse him; yet no mans condition is more intollerable then mine; from mee those two fearefull companions neuer depart, feare and sorrow; I cannot rest, I must not mutter, I may not breath, there is no calamitie so great, no plague so cruell, wherein the minde with some comfort is not refresht, but this of mine is increased with com­fort, It doth greeue me if anyman goe about with artificiall termes to appease my greefe. I seeme to be derided, I am not mytigated, but made worse, for greefe driueth away, whatsoeuer driueth not away greefe.

I should confesse my selfe verie voyd of humanitie, if I should not pittie thee, whosoeuer thou art, who art plunged into this bottome of greefe; I am not ig­norant that their is scarce any strength of minde, to bee found, which greefe doth not weare and cast downe, to triumph ouer greefe, is not the parts of a man, but of some deuine power; it is a cruell ty­rant, and seildome leaueth a man before it haue brought the bodie lowe, and afflicted the minde, for the affinitie with it; but if thou dost remember thy selfe, that thou wert a man before thou weart miserable, before thou weart loaden with [Page 64] that miserie and those diseases, consider a little, re­member with mee thy condition: Thou art a man▪ Therefore thou art not only a bodie, but a soule, The soule ought to haue rule ouer the bodie, not the bo­die ouer the soule, why art thou no [...] therfore erected and listed vp, O thou soule, that thou maist behould that place which belongs vnto thee: & preserue that dignitie and worthinesse, which is thine safe and vn­toucht? what, wilt thou suffer the bodie to haue grea­ter preheminence then thy selfe? shall those foolish, & irreligious voyces of this earthly frame, detracting from thy commandements, following which waye soeuer sence leads them, and shall not thy comman­dement bee heard? Go to, say vnto thy bodie it is my dutie to rule, and then to obey, is it not my part to affect the bodie, and to impose vpon it whatsoeuer I please? say, I will lead thee, and thou shalt followe me, and as I feell, and am affected, so speake thou, I am, and haue a being without thee; but thou (vnlesse thou art quickened by me) art but a lumpe of flesh, meere claye, or if any thing can be more filthie then clay, thy dignitie is nothing but as I haue aduanced thee to a deuine knowledge; and as all things with me are excellent and admirable, so with thee they are contemptible and base; & to say truth what hast thou in thy selfe; that is not common with the brute beasts? would not thy weight depresse thee into the deepest bottomes, if I did not lift thee vp and ingraft thee to a diuinitie?

[Page 65] Therefore (O body) whatsoeuer it is that offendeth thee, I reckon it as those things that are vnder mee, which neither ad nor detract from me▪

These griefes to thee peraduenture are bitter, & to me also (I do not say vnprofitable) but for the a [...] ▪ f [...]ty that I haue with thee, vnsweet and vnpleasant. But that they should haue power ouer me, that they should compell me to dispaire; that they should rob mee of my felicity; that they should couns [...] ▪ and I [...]e perswaded; that they should command▪ & I obey▪ that they should compell▪ and I be inforst; this were to make me (whose essence is more deuine) sub [...]ct to corrupt [...] [...] all▪ these things which com­ [...]se [...] ▪ which haue their affinity with thee, and where of th [...] a [...] made, are true assurances and direct pathes to mortality. But I am immortall. I am without the danger & reach of these darts; and ther­fore with mortall things I can neither bee touched nor aff [...]ed; [...]ay with these shadows of feare▪ and aff [...]le me O grifes at your pleasure; bee madde and feare as you thinke good, m [...] (that is the inward and better part of a man) yee cannot [...]rt: I will keepe my [...], no [...] only unconquered, but vntoucht; [...] nothing from hence, wherof to glory▪ I will [...] yee with my strength, and are solute h [...]t, [...] i [...] bearing, I will ouercome you; I that [...] not to [...]e wounded, that am [...] ▪ that am not to [...] with these [...]. N [...]y I am th [...] most fr [...]de, most at [Page 66] mine owne command, then doe I most triumph, when I see thee (O body) affected with griefe; as if a strong tower and holde of dangerous affections weare beseedg [...] and taken by me; Thus will a wise and a valiant man thinke; Thus will hee compasse himselfe, thus firmely and resolutely will hee stand; and the more hee vnderstandeth his mise­ry, and feeleth his griefe, the more wisely will hee deale, the more valiantly will hee suffer that, which hee must needes suffer▪ [...] more generously will hee speake, the more gloriously will hee triumphe; to conclude, hee will per­swade himselfe, that those remedies, which bring griefe, are best and most [...]fectuall; and then as griefes hinder the o [...]ces of the [...]ody, so they stirre vppe the strength of the minde, and cure the incurable diseases of it; that is, they cut off these luxurious hopes▪ they bridle those wan­dring thoughtes, they represse that admiration of our selues, which deceitfully stealeth into our familiarity. For wee must confesse, no man hath more modesty, more appetite, more ho­nesty, then when hee is wrapt vppe in diseases▪ then dooth hee truly knowe of what value all hu­mane thinges are. Then dooth hee learne to detest the hurtfull plagues of all mankind, Am­bition, and Couetousnesse; then the tempestes, those vyolent tempestes of luste are cal [...]; then all try [...]es, pleasures, cares, are of no recko­ning; [Page 67] hee is conuersant so amongst men, that hee seemeth rather to bee with GOD; then he is altogether out of him selfe, that hee neither thinketh nor speaketh of these inferiour and hu­mane thinges, but as is needefull for [...]ne ready to depart, and to aduise his owne. These things doo sicknesses, diseases and griefes performe; in this respect (I had almost sayd they are to be embra­ced of vs,) that they giue euery man occasion, to take experiment of himselfe, and with a faithfull though harde exercise to obtaine a strength not onely to suffer, but to challenge, the vtter­most and ex [...]emities of all euill; And there­fore wee are often indebted to diseases, for In­nocency; Innocency that is the path-way to saluati­on. But these are (say you) sharpe and cruell strypes: Let them bee cruell, and sharpe, so they bee wholesome. For what if thou peraduen­ture bee such a one as cannot bee cured, but by this meanes; Doost thou thinke it fit that GOD shoulde leade thee, warne thee, correct thee, at thy appointment and direction? To some men their owne conscience is a sufficient motiue to vertue, some other stand in neede of one to admonishe them, one to correct them, some others are dull and drowsie, and euer dooing that they shoulde not, whome thou canst not mooue and awake, but with spurres dull and vnca­pable [Page 68] wits are not to be taught, but with stripes; and what if thou art one of those? VVhat if almost lost thou can no otherwise be saued but by this meanes? Dost thou take it grieuously, and repiningly, murmu­rest, that God doth burne thee, doth cut thee, and and launce thee, that hee may cure thee? that vnwil­ling and striuing against him, he saueth thee by that meanes which he knoweth fittest? for

Take heede therefore least whilst thou fauourest thy selfe too much, and with wicked complaints prouo­kest him, who carefull prouideth for thy good, thou also beesovnd amongst the vnthankefull, and so (as the rewarde of thy vnthankefulnesse) these bodily griefes be not diminished, but increased with adition of those euerliuing (and yet deadly) griefes of the soule.

ALthough he, from whom the impatien­cy of vncurable griefes extorteth disho­nest and vnwise complaints be vnthank­full, yet he sinneth more with excuse, then he that is sounde and stronge. For he, because hee is neuer almost admonisht with diseases, nor with griefes awaked out of sleepe, groweth drowsie for want of paine; deceiueth himselfe with o­uermuch cherishing, and is altogether in the leauen of pride. By this meanes hee more and more plea­seth himselfe; by this meanes hee madly think­eth, and foolishely hopeth, and in his whole life dooth altogether otherwise then hee ought. In one worde hee tryfleth. From hence his life [Page 70] is either but a sluggish idlenesse or a wicked and fil­thy businesse, with both these, thy life is stained, (Oh thou man distracted, whosoeuer thou art, whome health of body hath brought to a sicknesse of minde) who therefore art in health, that thou maist perish; and therefore perishest, because knowing and wil­lingly thou perishest. Wherefore doost thou thinke this found and healthfull state of body was graunted thee? What? that thou mightst imploy this inestimable benefit of GOD, to no good vse, that thou mightest spende thy life in the windings of errour, amongst the thornes of desire; that neuer quiet neuer fauourable to thy selfe, thou maist euer seeke the meanes and instruments of life, onely to bee tossed in these follyes? thus beeing wrapped in those foolish affections, wilt thou ne­ver free and deliuer thy selfe? But euer wallow in that mire, without once looking to Heauen? Dost thou liue, that (as the prouerbe is) thou maist with the cordes of idlenesse, drawe the day from mor­ning to night, and as the dead sea (neuer moued) with any desire of honesty, and with no good im­ployments, doe no memorable thing, distinguisht from those that are most stuggish, so thou maist bee hee

That thus groueling to the earth, obeying thy belly, and seruing thy pleasure, thou maist quench the heate of thy luste, and vncleane puddles of sinne; thou doost ill esteeme the benefits of GOD, if thou dost abuse so foully so great a fauour.

Surely, that any mans life is sweete vnto him, it is the benefit of health; but the summe and scope of our life, is to come to the knowledge of our selues, and from hence to the knowledge of him, whose worke wee are; therefore there can bee no part of our life well spent, that is not bestowed in perfecting of this knowledge; This ought to bee euery mans purpose and indeauour, without the di­rection of this starre, to liue, is but to erre, and goe astray; From hence therefore, we may esteeme holinesse and pyety to bee the chiefe and onely worke of our life; this I require as trusting to preuaile of our inwarde sences, of our mouth, of our manners; that is, of our whole man: the holinesse of our inwarde sences, is to knowe God; of our mouth to praise him; of our manners [Page 72] to bridle vice and to increase vertue; and to indea­uour that thou maist be, if not a great and honoura­ble, yet a good and vertuous example.

Hee that hath time in his power, spareth the very moments of it; because hee knoweth that nothing is turned about with such swiftnesse as is euery part of life; and therefore he must remember the coun­sell giuen to the husbandmen.

And indeede what is it to liue, but perpetually to watch? What is it to watch, but to intende our calling? Againe, what is liker to death then to bee sluggish and caste into this pestilent sleepe? I meane into this variety; and vanity of vnprofi­table things. To conclude, to shew how dull wee are, and how greatly towards GOD vnthankfull, who will haue his benefites contained in our life, and that life bestowed to his worshippe, and the publike profite; alas how many doo wee see, who, because they cannot giue a reason of this their idlenesse, too late do lament that they haue passed not a life, but rather a frustration, & a dreame. To conclude to these

IT is strange, to finde so many sortes of men, as I haue reckoned before, to bee vnthankefull, but much more, will he be astonisht, which considers thee (cheefe of mortall men) vpon whose persons is more heaped, then vpon whole countries, to bee of that minde, and to be so affected, that none are more quarelous and cōplaining then they are. This speech if it be not oft in the months of princes, yet it is often a thought in their minds; They say, ‘that I (whatsoeuer I am cald) sit in the highest gouernement of things; my least signification any way is as a rule, whereunto [Page 77] euerie man composeth himselfe, that there is a nece­ssitie from my pleasure imposed vpon all those, who liue vnder my gouernment: because it is in my power to will and to be able. If any thing please me, it is a lawe: my wordes with no contrarie sence are to bee frustrate, nor with any consent of men to be confu­ted. It is in my power, in what condition euerie man shall liue. If I like peace, my country shall liue in qui­et. If I preferre warre before peace, all places sounde with the noyce of armours; what I will do, or what I will not do; it is only in my owne determination: thus are all things guided with my hand: and that which is the happiest thing in all this, is, that nothing can compell me. Those whom I admitte in counsell, as perswaders or diswaders of thinges; they first search out my meaning, before they expresse their owne, least they should thinke any thing from which I do dissent. This emulation possesseth all the fauorits of princes, and that liue in Courts, who may finde me at leasure, and who may most, and longest please me, to performe obedience to me, to bee admitted into my inward friendshipp; to execute my commaunde­ments, to be almost no other thing then to be accep­ted into familiaritie with this high and great power, which way soeuer I go, I haue euer the attendance of Maiestie, and state; & fame it selfe (euen at whose only mention the greatest gape) which they prefer before all things, cleaueth vnto mee, euen against my will, & that both great & euerlasting, doubtlesse I [Page 78] am much in the mouthes of those that are present, absent, and a farre off; so that I cannot easily tel, whe­ther absent, or present, I am more honorable. My au­thoritie, and my power is euerie where feared. It con­cerneth men publikely to know my kindred, my wise­dome, and my actions.’

‘To conclude, it is their labour, and aduantage, to set down the most hidden and secret parts of my life: yea (if it were possible) my inward thoughts; what & of what kinde soeuer any thing is, that belongs vnto me, that after-ages (out of Chronicles) may read them, and fame report thē. The hands of many men, their industrie, their labor, their faith, and indeuours, trauel only for my vse, to procure my quiet, my security, my riches, my honor, my contentment: & finally, to cō ­mend my name, and memorie to posteritie, yea euen those pleasures are obuious, prepard, and offered vn­to me, which often the most dangerous wittes, haue pursued with the losse of their liues, fames, & fortunes In this the greatest difficultie is, the choyce of these thinges; my wishes are not only euer performed but vsually preuented; In one word I do so much ex­ceed all others, as much as any man can desire; these are publike in the eyes of men, and such things as no man can contradict; these men are the lookers at my Crowne and dignitie.’

BBut Oh men ouermuch deceiued, in whose opinions I am (if not euerie way happie) yet of farre more excellent e­state then others: For

This outward brightnesse is a guide to this great error; this affecteth and dazeleth the eyes of the false esteemers, of my condition: and of those, who are altogether ignorant, what this is, which they call Soueraignetie; wilt thou know what principalitie is: It is a Tower seated in a place narrow, slipperie, head­long; [Page 80] In this standing am I set; that I may perpetu­ally watch; from hence (if I chaunce to sleepe) I shall fall dangerously. No man lyeth more opē to assaults; no man more violently is cast down; none hath lesse aduantage to rise againe. They say my least signifi­cation is a law to men. Oh I would to God, I did not finde it dayly otherwise, who am drawne thither, and against my will, whether occasions of others leade me, not whether I my selfe had purposed. My plea­sure you say is a necessitie to others: nay, that nece­ssitie is imposen vpō me, which arriseth out of things themselues: neither can I will any thing otherwise, then of necessitie must bee, vnlesse I will that, which I connot obtaine. For as we commād men, so things command vs, and no man hath things in his power, but he that obeyeth the necessitie of them. They say, whatsoeuer pleaseth me is a Law; these are tri­fles. For it is much truer that the law often ouertur­neth what I like. For the lawe to mee is harde and in­exorable: and as it restrayneth the multitude, so to my words and deedes it is a most seuere censor. My words (they say) with no contrarietie nor no consent of men can be deluded. There is nothing so false as this, seeing I am compelled, often to speak one thing, and thinke another. It is often my greatest aduan­tage, that I am not vnderstood. Surely, whosoeuer with a reaching head vnderstandeth mee, sometimes doth vnderstand a little more then is fitte. Therefore [Page 81] to my wordes (but when they are solemne and con­ceiued with deliberation) men must not euer giue credit. And although often I do speake truely, yet those that doe catch my wordes, either with a per­uersnesse of their owne, or an ingrafted sinister dis­position, turne them to what they please: they say it is in my power, in what state and condition euery man shall liue. If I should grant that this were so, yet I must confesse that euen in this respect, I scarce e­uer haue true quiet.

For I am euer doubtfull, and in suspence, least I offend any man vnwillingly, least I discountenance him that is worthie, aduance him that is vnthanke­full, or vnawares ouerthrow my selfe, and my owne state: For euen this verie Soueraintie it selfe, expo­seth me (both publikely and priuatly) to the enuies, hatreds, and iealousies of men: all which easily ouer­throw this state.

And to conclude, the longer they lurke, the more fatally and more dangerously they breake out. Besids you say (as I please) I doe giue to my subiects peace, and warre. Yea euen this, is amongst the ils of prin­ces, that great distructions, and publike calami­ties, are referred vnto them onely, as to the cheefe authors: when indeede the true causes of them are hidde secretly, in the deepe, and sticke fast in more hidden rootes, then the counsels of men. This is that vniust ignoraunce of the common people, from whence so much enuie is deriued [Page 82] to the prince. Of things well don, euery man drawes the honor to himselfe, but the prince alone, must beare the burden of others madnes. They say, I haue that preheminence, that whatsoeuer I wil, or wil not, is in my owne power. It were indeede an excellent thing, if it were. If thus a man might satisfie all; if all men were of one minde. But whosoeuer thinketh thus, doth not consider, that I only neuer sayle in a calme, but am perpetually tost in the waues of opini­on; and lie only open to the differinge censures of good and ill, and to euerie light ignorant and idle fable. Therefore in this respect, that so much is law­full vnto mee, I haue reason greatly for to feare, least I should do any thing to ouerthrowe this liber­tie. If any man consider well, hee shall see, that in this great libertie there is least. Neither doe men take vnto themselues more harde iudgement, or secret speeches then against the pince; Of whome to speake euill, and to dislike his doinges (whether they bee good or badde) it is not a corruption of a fewe, but of longe time, a popular vertue, you say, those whome I doe admitte into Counsell, they doe first gather out my meaning, before they expresse their owne, least they should thinke something diffe­ring from me.

Let it be so, may not my crueltie and that feare, which men haue of mee, bee gathered from hence, as also their owne sluggish and iniurious distrust of mee. [Page 83] For if they be admitted, to this end to guide me with their counsell; why doe they dissemble it? If they thinke well, profitably, and for the good of the com­mon wealth; why doe they first gather what is my meaning? VVhy doe they so carefully and warely deliuer their owne opinion to trye mine? why doe they so slauishly submit their voices vnto me? doubt lesse, they doe it to that end that they may seeme to thinke the same that I doe; that thus by the likenes of councell, they may make themselues easily more neere vnto me. Doe they not thus withdraw their faith and fidelity from me? Am I not by this means forsaken of those I ought not, in things that are most weighty? Namely, those who ought to call mee backe when I erre, to hold me vp when I slyde, to raise mee vp when I fall, craftily doe cast me head­long into destruction. So farre doe they proceede in the contention of flattery, in the impudency of lying, and in the study of deceit. Then in what state am I, if these be true as they are most true? Do not these deuouring gulphes euer gape after my for­tunes? what? if I bestowe so much vpon them as they wickedly couet or impudently beg? If in those things which falsely and fraudelently they steale, they see our winking at it, are we not streight made a pray vnto pouerty, then which, no enemy can bee greater to a kingdome? If I do giue with modera­tion, and according to mens deserts, presently they account mee base and nigardly. So whether I giue, [Page 84] or not giue, I must either want or bee enuied; but you say all men striue to insinnuate themselues in­to my fauour, to bee neerer and more powerfull with mee, seeing to bee inwarde with princes and to execute their commaundements is nothing else but to part and deuide soueraignety with them; this may teach all men, in what slippery estate were stand, and how little wee are at our owne pleasure, who must be subiect to other mens vyces, to obey o­ther mens wits, and to be led whether they will haue vs. If vices would shew themselues as they are, there is no man but would be affraid and tremble at them; but to Princes they offer themselues disguisde, they carrie a shape of vertue with them, and so easily in­sinnuate themselues. From hence is that, which they call our facility, liberall to the worst sort & more fa­uourable often to vices, then to vertue, when wee are most officiously obserued of our attendants, then audatious spirits in our gates doe worke tragedies; modesty being banisht, for which there is scarce a­ny parts in princes courts, there scarce it retaineth the name of vertue when it hath loste all the orna­mentes and graces of it; It is often couered with a base garment, and then it is not so much called mo­desty, and feare, sluggishnesse, and basenesse; ther­fore if any man thinkerightly, we are rather troubled with other mens faults then our owne, whilst we liue in this ignorance of things, and looking with other mens eyes, scarce euer see any thing truly, from hēce [Page 85] proceede so many errours, so many complaints, which on euery side are stirred vp to our enuy; who are saide to know all things, to gouerne all things, to be able to doe all things, when indeed we know all thinges laste of all, neither doe men tell vs things as they are, but as it pleaseth them to deuise, so that euerie mans particular faulte is laide vppon the PRINCE, bee hee neuer so innocent, But they say, I euer walke, being guarded with a traine of Maiesty and State. Indeede thus I am safe, as a Cittie, all whose gates are diligently kept, except one, which is open to the enemies; neither can the Prince (though with his authoritie he com­mand euery man) eschew the trecheries of all; for there wil neuer some be wāting, which (moued with vniust hatred) conspire his ouerthrow; there be eue­ry where examples of this, by which we may see how the liues of Princes, are open to euery mans wicked conspiracie; yea and oftentimes such furious assaults are ioyfully accepted amongst the multitude, So that those are thought to haue deferued best of the common wealth, who haue compast vs about with such treacherous factions, and amongst the vulgar multitude, there is no newes receiued with greater applause; nothing more acceptable to the ignorant people, then this; that the yoke of a tyrant is taken from their neckes, and rewards are bestowed vpon the murderers. Thus vndefended, vnheard, and often the innocent is punished; no law nor maiesty [Page 86] can be a protection to him, in whose only safety the safety of all cōsisteth, besids it is not in the providēce and wisedome of any, but of him that is the great defendour of kingdomes, to escape those stormes, which a man shall see thence to arise often, from whence in all reason they are least expected; for the nearest and most inward friends, do often become the most dangerous traytors. This is that guarde which so defendeth our bodies, that it dooth often wound them; which we nourish at our owne expences, not so much to defend vs as ouerthrow vs.

ANd fame, which all mortall men expect aboue all things, what dooth it profit mee, if it dooth dishonour and blemish my name? Should I therefore esteeme it because it is great? Yea, the greater it is, the more dangerous; and the more it doth staine me; what am I greater that I am more famous?

[Page 88] And am I by this more famous? more excellent? and not rather more stained, more vexed? whatsoe­uer belongeth to mee, that they say it is fit to bee knowne publikly. This also is to bee reckoned, a­mongest the infelicitie of Princes; that priuate mens faults oftentimes humility, conscience, and charity dooth hide, and the least blemishes in vs, are publikely shewed as great deformities; from hence it commeth, that whatsoeuer sinne, or filthinesse is any where, all that almost, is thought either to proceede from the PRINCE, or to rest vppon him; neither doe priuate men sinne more sparingly, but more secretly; men easily doe pardon their owne faultes, but neuer the PRINCES, nay the more equall euery man is to himselfe, the more vniuste hee is to the PRINCE; and as concerning pleasures, from the plenty whereof, commeth a difficulty of choice, I would to GOD those could see the end of them, who from these do measure our felicitie, with grie­uous (yet deserued punishments.)

They should well vnderstand, hovv light, how flitting, how fearefull, they are and full of repen­tance; for the very aboundance of these thinges, which you so much esteeme dooth take from euery thing, the sweete and the pleasure of them; neither dooth that euer delight vs, which truth commen­deth to vs, but which nouelty; what is exquisite, speciall, and not common; Euery common [Page 89] thing be it neuer so excellent, groweth base; and as­sone as there be many of them, they are cheape; It is scarse any pleasure at all; that is a pleasure to all; but these which in the opinion of the multitude are so much to be desired, doe compasse the princes young yeares about, before he learne to know them, hate them, or eschewe them; hee first tasteth e­uill things, before hee knoweth them to be euill, he first vnderstandeth himselfe to bee taken, before hee hath any power to take heede of these ineui­table deceits; neither can hee with any force he hath, repell the violence of those pleasures, that doe assaulte him. Away with that felicitie, (which if it bee any) yet is not of that value, that thereby the minde should bee besotted; the body weakened; and the fame darkened; and to follow pleasures, what is it but to hunt sickenesse, griefe and shame? True pleasures, and which indeede deserue the name of pleasures, are fewe, and do happen to priuate men oftener, then to Princes; our pleasures are counterfeit, masked, and full of danger, and to conclude, they are not that they seeme, and that which truly is in them (if there bee any thing truly in them) is lesse then that which is not, or worse, or more daungerous. My wishes they say are not onely performed, but sweetned. Those wishes must needes bee lowe, and beneath the dignity of this place, which a man may so easily obtaine; they ayme at nothing that is great, at no­ning [Page 90] worthy of this fortune; surely as soone as it is vnderstoode, that any thing is attempted by mee, whereby my riches, my dignity, my do­minion is to bee inlarged; all men by all meanes doe seeke to hinder it; so obstinately and of set purpose doe men rise to subuert mee, to keep mee vnder, to oppresse mee; No man is sooner frustrate of his hope, no man hath more dange­rous attempts against him, then the PRINCE; Those sluggishe and base wittes, borne to ser­uitude, by how much they increase in slouthfull se­cret practises, by so much more dangerously, they assault our safeties and fortune; that I may not speake of other Princes, and great persons, which with Iealousy enuie our states and calling, who, by how much our fortunes are aduanced, by so much they suppose their owne to be cast downe; because there is no inlarging of the boundes of Empyre but into the limittes of an other; which must bee to him that inuades troublesome, and full of danger; besides doubtfull, and vnhappy e­uents do often crosse indeauours that are excellent, and worthy of this place; that it may seeme to bee better to sitte and rest, like sluggish beastes, then to aduenture themselues, into so many headlong downefalles, which ruinate their states and their whole Kingdomes. These are those felicities, where-with our fortunes are measu­red.

[Page 91] From hence there springeth so much enuie to vs, as we nan scarce endure; as though wee had gotten the vttermost happinesse vpon earth, So that our kinde of life is scarce knowne to bee vnsafe, mi­serable, full of daunger, of any other, then of those that are borne to bee Princes. All things with vs are full of suspitions, cares, and feare. O men thrice fortunate, to whome a life is gran­ted, not tossed with the tempests of enuie, sub­iect to no stormes of hatred, and conspiracie; whoe haue a condition, and estate beneath the enuie of this place, and yet aboue the com­mon equalitie.

These are they that liue in securitie, who haue in safetie whatsoeuer they possesse, these haue tranquilitie, pleasure, ioy, and happinesse.

Seldome doth enuie or malice, lye in wayte for them. To conclude, these haue all those com­modities and pleasures; which falsly are sayd to bee proper vnto princes, who cannot vse them, but with great daunger; neither were it straunge, if Princes (the greatest of mortall men) layinge aside this publike care, and freed from this heauie burden, did betake themselues into this safe and quiet harbour.

Next vnto these, are the multitude, who are safe (if not in the greatnesse of their riches) yet in their condition and multitude of their like.

[Page 92] Last of all (if in no other respect) yet for their contempt, which to the lowest is as a stronge wall.

WEll I see what the matter is; hee that is almost ouer loaden and opprest with the benefites of God, doth scarce perceiue them; he that hath more lent him, doth more impudently denie the debt.

He that ought to be altogether in giuing of thanks, is ashamed to be seene thankefull: he whose conditi­on is aboue all, placeth himselfe lower then all; not in want of vnderstanding; but in that (though his place be excellent) yet he dare boldly vpbraid the bestower of it, with what termes shall I censure this corrupt and sinister disposion: Shall I call him blinde, that cannot see those thinges, whose brightnes shine in euerie mans eyes? Or rather madde, which [Page 94] proudly treadeth vnder foote, which all men admire, that they are bestowed vpon him? or dull and earth ly, which perceiueth not those things, in the midst whereof hee is placed? or to say more truely wicked, which with a strang confidence acknowledgeth none of those things that appertaine to his calling? Well I will deliuer my selfe, and thee whosoeuer thou art that readest this, out of this doubt I will call him vn­thankfull; and in this one word containe all his sham. And first in the verie entrance thou bewrayest thy friuoulous boasting, who saist that they know nothing which esteeme thy condition better then the con­dition of other men; As though thou only in respect of all other men (who thinkest thus) thought truely, and other men were deceiued, who see thee in the midst of the Sonne to complaine of light. But indeed it is much truer, that thou only hast weak eyes, which together with thy minde are both blinded, with that light that doth shine about theee; This first dazeleth thee, then others; whose minds are infected with thelike error. Thou sayst that principalitie and Souerain­tie are like a Tower seated in a straite, and slipperie place, where a man must perpetually watch: this hitherto is well spoken, If thou speakest it with that minde that it ought; but I see thou showest not the excellency of that place, but the danger. Thou dost not acknowledge, that thou art seated in a glorious, and high place, but complainest that it is slipperie, & full of downefalles; Neither dost thou speake as one [Page 95] warie, but as one quarrelous, and complaining; not as one remembring, and magnifying thy condition, but detracting from it. Art thou in that minde that thou thinkest it is lawfull for any man to bee Idle, and secure? Suppose thy selfe not to be in that place, set thy selfe with the common people, make not thy selfe singular, yet thou canst not denie, but thou art committed to thy owne charge; if no other, yet this charitie (I am sure) is ingrafted in thee; For to this ende thou art borne, that thou shouldest neuer leaue thy selfe, but toward thy selfe keepe a continuall guard, goe whether thou wilt, bee as dissolute and as negligent as thou canst; yet thou mayst not flye nor escape thy selfe; from thy selfe without any tea­cher, thou art warnd, that thou must nourish, frame, and till thy selfe; Surely no hard prouince, no labo­rious worke, whereunto willingly thou commest and by the light of nature; But as it is easie to bee cari­ed to this, so it is as hard and difficult to performe it: For all other things are to be left, or rather al o­ther thinges are to bee done, that this one thinge may be perfected.

There is no mortall man, that hath not this person, this charge, put vpon him: and therfore what care, or labour soeuer is bestowed in this, it is not Labor, but Nature. And if thou bestowe this care and paines vpon others, it is Gouernement, that is a dutie to rule others. But whether it be a dutie, or a burden, vpon whomsoeuer it is imposed, with all it [Page 96] is commanded him to beare it valiantly; and firme­ly to obey him, whose only benefit it is, that euerie man is. Therefore rightly thou maist call Gouerne­ment or rule, a care of an other mans wellfare: seeing the great weight of it, can neither be ballanst, nor stand without a gouernour. Therefore whosoeuer is aduanced to this dignitie, to him is the publike pro­fit propounded and he is giuen (as it were from hea­uen) as a remedy and safegard for all. This if thou more carefully considerest, what and how great it is, then shalt thou vnderstand the excellencie and maie­stie of this place: wherein whosoeuer standes, he so farre exceedeth all other men, as farre as euerie man exceedeth all those thinges which admire man as their Lord, their gouernor, and their ruler. Therfore it is true that thou (who art a Prince) sustainest the person of God: and performest his office, in Au­thoritie, example, gouernment. And dost thou thinke that any thing can be spoken, or wisht for, higher and more honorable then this? But if this dignitie doe not erect thee, but ouerwhelme thee, take heede that thou accuse not the bountie of God, but secretly ac­knowledge the narrownes of thine owne breast, and the weakenes of thy minde, vnfit for so great an ho­nor, and vncapable of such a Maiestie. But because Soueraintie (as thou callest it) is a Tower, know that therein thou art a continuall watch man, a searcher out of mens manners, a continuall obseruer of all that is done, least a passage bee made through [Page 97] sinnes and faults, and other pestilent infections, to ouerthrow those things which are committed to thy faith, and credit. If thou excludest these things, if thou layest Iustice as a foundation of concorde: If this concorde of thy subiects thou increasest with faith; If thou sharpenest the loue of the Common-wealth with vertue; If all thy subiects perceiue thee to bee a Prince, not by Impositions, but benefits; If with these benefites thou preuentest their desires; to conclude, if thy goodnesse bee equall to thy power; if the higher thou art, thou art so much the better; thou shalt assure men that Maiestie is well bestowed vpon thy person: thou shalt possesse their hearts, and euerie mans vowes and wishes shall be, that God the great King, and gouernour of all thinges, will be as gratious to thee, as thou art to those that liue vnder thee. Last of all, this Maiestie shall supplie vnto thee, those sweete pleasures which are layd aside, for those only whom God aduanceth to so high an honor. Further, he that careth for the good of the Common-wealth, the whole Common-wealth watcheth for his good, and the guard, that he is attended with all, are not so much a defence as an ornament: hee that establisheth this concord of all, this concord is to him an inuincible defence, he that imbraceth al with a true loue, him al men imbrace with a true and happie loue. This therefore is to bee a Prince, in the most highest place; that is, for the safetie, of all [Page 98] to bestow his care, his labour, his study, to be the pre­sident of lawes: to plant a loue of that which is iust and honest, and to ingraft a hatred of vice, diligently to care that none perish, no not those that are wil­ling, he that thus disposeth himselfe, shall haue the helpes of vertue, whereunto if hee leane, hee shall not fall, as from a slipperie and daungerous Tower, but shall remaine firme in that state of Maiestie: there his busied care in the busines of all shall keepe him safe.

And if at any time (as humane things are vncer­taine) sleepe stealing vpon him, he chaunce to fall, he is carefully supported in their hands, which with their good will, defence, and safetie, are desirous to pre­serue his life; Neither shall his fall bruise him, but ad­monish him: For the swordes of enemies shall haue their edges rebated in the loue of his people; in this shall deceits bee disclosed, and trecheries bee dis­couered. For there is scarce any other Prince oppressed with faction, but hee that first oppre­sseth the people with so many iniuries: Neither is it strange that hee lyeth open to the iniu­ries of all, that hee is torne in pieces with their opinions, wishes, and reproaches, who labo­reth himselfe, to procure the destruction of all.

Therefore how safe thou art; how deare and desired thou art, how great & honorable, how quietly obe­diēt thou hast thy subiects, it is in thy power, whosoeuer [Page 99] thou art that art a Prince. And as thy safty, so are thy dangers ascribed vnto thy selfe; if thou indea­uourest still that thou maist stand, thou shalt neuer neede to labour that thou maist rise. If thou liuest for the good of all, all will bestowe their liues for thy good.

DOubtlesse it is truly saide, that thou art the Lord of times, and moments of time, and that thou so commandest necessity, that thou art not drawn with the violence of it; if principally, thou takest heed, that thou dost not with thy own incon­sideratures inuite it. If thou admittest into councel, these two companions Wisedome, & Prouidence: For with the direction of these two, thou shalt easily e­scape those almost ineuitable snares of this Monster necessitie; yea & occasions will be ready; occasions, good and lawfull, safely and profitably to meet thee. [Page 101] For seldome, are any other driuen into the straights of time; then the slouthfull, inconsiderate, and im­prouident. But if thy mind be hedged about with a daily and diligent care, that it slide not, I dare pro­mise thee, no vnfortunate thing, shall happen vnto thee; nothing vnlookt for. But all things happely, and forward before hand. If banishing this rashnes thou looke unto things that are to come, with the eyes of wisedome, then as thou shalt wisely beare, whatsoeuer happeneth, so thou shalt easily anoyde errour. And if all things come not to passe which thou wouldest; yet those things shall happen which thou hast before thought of: And if things succeed not as thou hast determined, yet thou shalt quietly entertaine those things whereunto occasions shall leade thee. There shall scarce any thing be, which shall impose a necessitie vpon thee; Nay, it shalbe in thy owne power, what shalbe of necessity, and what not. For so imperious are circumspection; and watchfulnesse, that wheresoeuer they are, frō thence they exclude all necessity. So farre do diligent men exceed the slouthfull, the inconsiderate, the desolute, which that great Poet well vnderstood, when ele­gantly he song thus:

Surely thus the Prince may do euery thing, if whatso euer he thinketh, he applyeth to this rule; Thus what­soeuer pleaseth the Prince shall be a lawe; neither is a law any thing else but the rule of right. Com­maund the beste thinges, and whatsoeuer at any time or in any place thou commaundest, shall ob­taine force and strength of a lawe. If there bee not to subuert these at any time a difference betwixt the PRINCE and the lawe. For the PRINCE must bee a helpe to the law, and the law a safegard to the PRINCE. Thus shall there bee much worthinesse in thy deedes, much reuerence and authority in thy words; neither shalt thou at any time be compelled to vse dissembling or deceit; the weake and vnfaith­full supporters of a kingdome; which indeede are rather the forerunners of craft, then the compani­ons and witnesses of true wisedome. Euer goe the right way, fly all bypathes, let no false opinions touch either thee, or thy subiects. Let no suspitions staine the chaste minde of either. Let both liue truely, and sincerely, speake ingeniously and feare not to be vn­derstood; and whatsoeuer is sincerely spoken, let it be accepted and construed with a sincere and vertuous [...]ction. For truth the PRINCE

Thus obedidence, shall euer confirme what is vtte­red from a mouth so ingenious and voide of deceipt. Thus shall the successe euer bee answerable to all that thou intendest; in the choyse of any whom thou aduauncest to any place. For if laying aside fauour and affectatiō, laying aside al base & sinister respects, thou only aymest to preferre and honour those that are most worthy, thou shalt deriue vnto thy selfe no hatreds, neither publike nor priuate, but loue in­genious, and sincere, and the religious vowes and wishes of all men for thy safety. For al men wil vn­derstand how neerely it concernes them to obtaine of God by their prayers a long and a happy life, for so good and gratious a Prince. For by this meanes euery man prayeth, that himselfe may liue wel. For the state and condition of euery man, is happy vnder a good and a gratious Prince. But you say the pub­like calamities (whose causes are hid in secret) are re­ferred to the Prince, as to the chief author; as though it could be denied, that warre and peace were not in the hands of the Prince; shall I tell thee how truely this is spoken? Intreate thus much of thy selfe, that thou maist be able to quench those sparks of de­siring [Page 104] and coueting Ambition, which euer seeke to inlarge themselues, and doe inwardly burne thee, that they grow not to a flame; and then shalt thou cut off all causes of warre. Looke not how narrow­ly, or how largely thou rulest, but how iustly; then thou shalt perceiue thy selfe placed in a large fielde, were thou maiest muster an army of vertues, which do al fight vnder these two ensignes Piety and Iustice. From whence I beseech thee (doost thou thinke) arise the greatest part of the publique calamities? Doubtlesse, seldome frō forraine iniuries, but most often and vsually from the vnquiet mind of those, who thinke they possesse nothing, vnlesse they inuade that which is an others. Doubtlesse, I thinke him to bee the most mighty Prince, whose mind and wi­shes are at vnity with themselues. O thou Prince, (whosoeuer thou art) quiet and calme thine owne heart; erect thy selfe hyer and aboue all those things which inflame the minde; holde the desires vnder a bridle; so shalt thou preuent warres, sediti­ons, tumults; if any thing turbulently fall out, thou shalt not buy thy peace of straungers, with great summes of money, or with deminishing or disho­uouring of thy Empyre; but thou shalt make the Articles and Couenants of peace thy selfe; If anie man shall propounde thee, and thy kingdome as a pray: if any foolishly cruell, and placing right in violence, commeth to oppresse thee, doubtlesse all men wil arise in armes to defend thee; because whilst [Page 105] they establish the authoritie in thee, they do likewise fortifie their owne. Last of all, he will defend thee himselfe, who as hee is Iustice it selfe, so hee euer firmely standeth and fighteth for that vertue. Thus, whatsoeuerthou wilt, shall bee lawfull for thee; that is, if thou euer embrace, that which is iuste and honest; andremooue from thee, whatsoeuer is vnlaw­full.

Thus, no mans wishes shall differ from thine, no mans wishes shall hurt thee; no tales shall trouble thee; nothing so popularly shall come to the eares of the common people, as thy praises; neither shall any man compare thy faults (which are none) with thy good deeds as doubtfull, which in the ballance do weigh the heauiest; thy vertues shalbe hurt with no affinitie with vice; the multitude of thy vertues and the greatnesse of them shall take iudgement from men, and place insteed thereof Admiration. This shall ingraft thy name to posterity; but thou complainest, that those who are intimate & of coun­sell with thee do not deale faithfully, and sincerely, when as first they gather out the meaning, before they expresse their owne. This (thou sayst) is an argument of a minde corrupt, and vnfaithful. In­deed I doe thinke so with thee: there can bee no­thing more wicked, more corrupt then these. But mee thinkes thou seemest not to knowe that the greatest parte of this vnfaithfulnesse altogether proceedeth from thy selfe; consider what these are [Page 106] to whom thou hast committed thy selfe, thy name; thy dignity; and in one worde the Souereignty of state. They are either chosen of thee to that place, and esteemed for their vertue, and worth; or rashely admitted into councell. VVhat ornaments haue they brought to thy friendship? with what py­ety? with what manners, with what guifts of the minde are they aduaunced? Or rather haue they not possest that place with boldnesse? Are they not seruants vnprofitable, seruaunts of their owne and thy vnlawfull desires? Are they not staines to thy friendshippe? Blemishes of thy Empyre rather then instrumentes and seruants of a good gouerne­ment? If thou acknowledgest any of these, thou must first accuse thy selfe before thou accuse them; neither ca [...]st thou maruaile that this sorte of menne should shewe any other thinge then those they are furnisht with. To conclude, it is no argument of a Great PRINCE to haue such friendes, and surely what Mortall Man can expect either truth or sinceritie from those, who neuersomuch as heard of vertue, beeing the bondslaues of vice; who with boldenesse haue rusht into the councell of PRIN­CES, who scarse where euer knowne vnto him, but by daungerous fawnings; which onely compasse him about, that they may robbe him; thus they be­gin.

First they blinde the PRINCE with flatterie; they not onely powre oyle into his eares (as [Page 107] the prouerbe is) but with their filthie mouthes dan­gerous and deadly poyson, thus they proceede to deceiue him; first by soothing, then by scraping: if a­ny aduersirie be at hand, these stand neuer sure to the Prince; nor to the better cause, but to the stronger, & the greater factiō. They incline especially thither, whether gaine, leuitie, & falshood lead them; they rest not in their watch-Towers, to yeelde themselues to their cheefe and lawfull Prince, but to him that shall conquere. These neuer seeke what is honest, but what is safe and profitable. But if thou desirest, neuer to be deceiued, neuer to haue the faith of sub­iects, to shrinke from thee: If thou wilt be stronge in Counsell; to conclude, if thou wilt haue firme rule of gouernment; diligently inquire into the liues, the cō ­ditions, the fame of those, whome thou admittest ei­ther into Counsell to thy selfe, or to the gouernemēt of the Common wealth, choose, & carefully choose not the most popular & most in fauour; but the best. These will counsell thee & perswade good; but those will suggest ill. Thus shall the state of things be verie good, whilst thou thus gouernest; thou shalt ingraft into thy contrie the true notes of happinesse. For when men shall vnderstand, how hard it is to coun­sell such a Prince, wholesome and profitable things: verie few will thinke it belonges vnto them, to be ad­mitted to this honor, to bee of thy secret counsell; when men shall obserue that men only conspicuous, in wisedome and honestie are admitted of the Prince [Page 108] and to the Prince, they will not floc [...]e vnto thee in such swarmes. There is no man can so farre forget himselfe, but that in his owne minde, hee will thinke thus; who am I that should goe about to be of coun­sell with the Prince? What vertues am I furnished with-all answerable to so high a place? Haue I giuen any testimonie of my life, of so profitable and ho­norable a paines; that I should deserue that place, that I should bee called into counsell with him, who hath the principall & cheefe gouernment of things? How often shall there be consultations of doubtfull and vncertaine things: when in Courts, feares and terrors are thicke dangers barking on euerie side, thē what is there in all my store of wisedome, learning, and experience, wherewith I may ease either the Prince, or the Common-wealth. The more learned that euerie man is, the more experienced, the wiser; the more earnest hee is in such a cause, in such a place at such a time. What part shall I play here of a wise man, or of a foole? Or shall I not lay open my owne ignorance and folly, shall not this honor bestowed vpon me, be like a wonder▪ these and such like true thoughts will driue a man into a conscience of him­selfe: therefore to aspire to such a place, to such an honor, men must haue feare, respect, modesty, things not euer seene in the affectation of these places. Eue­rie man first must feare himselfe, his owne iudge­ment, then the iudgement of his most graue, & most wise prince: then the iudgement of all. Therefore [Page 109] there is no cause, why a Prince should feare men of ill disposition, when his Court is not open to any such monsters, when honors are not stayde either by selling them, or casting them vpon vnworthie persons: but rather to marke and obserue, men ex­cellent in vertue, although priuate and obscure, and to compell such (how vnwilling soeuer) to take the charge of gouernment of things, & to be of his own Counsell.

Surely such a Prince, shall neuer be in daunger of euill Counsels, and vntruthes; for such will euer speake to him as it is. Thus excluding the dregges, hee shall make choyse of the most sincere, and with a sharpe eye, hee shall wound masked and counterfeit vices. For they shall not dare to mingle themselues with vertues; which he shall euer haue true; eminent and conspicuous about him, with the helpe of these, he shall sustaine the heauie troublesome weight of gouernment. Thus from the Court shalbe banisht continuall boldnes, and Impudencie. Nowe thou saist (O Prince) that it is in thy owne power; that there be no bottomlesse gulphes in thy kingdome, which to fil vp, thou shalt be brought to a dangerous pouerty. Be bountifull, but not a waster: set vnto thy selfe Limittes for thy libertie: nor releeue not o­thers, with thy bountie, but such, as with true prayses, may celebrate thy vertue. These will not secretly breake thy treasurie, but silently deserue thy liberalitie. Then such a Courte [Page 110] shall vomit out no plague to infect the ayre; from whence are heapt together pestilent clowdes that do threaten stormes and tempests. But there shall bee a perpetuall and euerlasting Seminarie of most firme and sownd tranquilitie. From hence shall euerie man take example of life; there thou that art the Prince shall shine as the sunne amongst the other starres; the nobilitie shall looke into thy wisedome as into a bright and true glasse; thy wisedome shall be stron­ger then the craft of any; so farre shalt thou be from hauing the sinnes and the vices of others imputed to thee. To conclude, all the darts of enuie (dartes that are often-times dangerous) shall be rebaited and dull in the sheeld of a publike loue, which shall make thee not to be wounded. Goe to (O Prince) giue an assu­rance in thy whole life, that thou hast cast an 'account with thy Kingdome, as one ready to render an ac­count to God, & men, & that thou art not only, not a tyrant, but a defender of the publike state, and so con­sequently, that thou art the soule of the Empire, and that life that the people breath. In one word, that thou art in the place of God, whome the good loue, and reuerence as a father, the wicked feare as a se­ueire Iudge. If thou art indued with this vnderstan­ding, with these vertues, no danger shall assault thee, no treasons, no poysons, no murthers. Valiant and most faithfull guards shall defend thee. Thy subiects loue, and that which is thy vnseperable companion, a celestiall grace. For what Prince soeuer is chast, [Page 111] holy, and like vnto God, as he shall seeme to bee ad­uanced to that place by God him selfe, so euidently it will appeare, that hee is vnder the defence of the most high. This is that strong and safest guard, which can neuer bee mooued against the life of the Prince; which can neuer be corrupted with any reward, nor forced with any violence, against the Prince his safetie.

NOw to all these the last thing I can ad, is Fame; not a deceitfull, & trifling benefit, but that which alone taketh the defence of euerie mans good name against all the iniuries of time: I confesse it is a late recompence, and the last reward, but with all, the greatest and the most pretious, to this a Prince ought to direct his cheefe care of gouern­ment: for I see not what a Prince should greatly [Page 113] desire besides this one thinge; neither euerie kinde of fame, but that which is good. For any fame is great enough, if it be good enough. This is that which to man prepareth the way to immortali­tie: nay, it selfe is an Image, a beginning, and not the least part of eternitie, with this touch-stone in the ende euerie mans life and manners are tryed: For seildome is fame vntrue, if it be Constant, and con­tinuall: Neither, do I call that fame, which is but the indiscret rumors or the rash speech of the com­mon people, or the voyces which are extorted from feare or violence; neither euerie estimation of those that are present do I call fame: but the iudgements of strangers, and of late posteritie: then both which nothing is more vncorrupted. whatsoeuer thou art (O Prince) know that all that is placed in thy fame: This is to thee a treasure much more pretious then a­ny mettall: From hence dost thou drawe a name, and honor, a memorie of thee, not only continuall, but continually glorious. There is nothing which thou canst carrie from hence sauing this.

If thou shouldest bee such a one, as all men doe pro­mise thēselues of thee: as all men would haue thee to be, & to be accounted: such a one shal fame report thee. A glasse doth not more truely represent the face, then the fame doth the man, especially thee, who canst escape the iudgements of none, because thy brightnes hath set thee in the eyes, the speeches, the opinions of all, thy life shall bee lookt into, thy [Page 114] wisedome shalbe examined, thy manners shalbe sif­ted, and against thy will, thou shalt be pictured in an open table, where euerie eye (though not curi­ous) may reade thee, that is in the Chronicles, and in those monuments which amongst posterities, must out-liue all memorie: to what ende thinkest thou? that euerie man may propound thee as an example, if of vertue to be followed, if of vice to bee eschew­ed; for as good fame followeth the name of a good Prince, so of a wicked, vnfortunate, and neuer re­sting staines, attend vpon their ghosts, from the courses of posteritie. Now choose which thou wilt, whether those things which are written of thee, shall be reade to thy honor & prayse, or to thy euerlasting infamie, weigh and ballance both these, thou canst not choose or eschew both; the one thou mayst a­uoide. I do not thinke that thou art such an enemie to thy selfe, but that thou hadst rather fauour thy ho­nor, then procure thy shame; that thou hadst ra­ther bee esteemed vertuous, then dishonest. There­fore exercise this seuere gouernment vpō thy sences, vpon thy affectiōs, that there may be nothing, wher­in thou needest to bee behoulding to any: pardon thy selfe nothing, let there bee nothing, which any man may forgiue thee. So excell amongst men, as thy honor, thy dignitie, thy power doth, that thy honor may be aboue mortalitie, propound vnto men thy life, as a perpetuall censure, build this com­mendation to thy selfe, that thou (which deuidest ho­nor [Page 115] to all) maist worthily sit in that high seate of ho­nour thy selfe. As thy originall shewes thee to bee Lord of many countries, so let thy vertues assure men, that thou art a preferrer of them. Neuer place more in thy wil, then in equitie; neuer more in force, then in iustice; gaine vnto thy selfe a good Name, which often flattery will not affoorde vnto thee, nor these riches which thou obtainest by in­treaty, nor the strength of thy mightie Kingdome, nor so many thousands of men warring for thy safety; thy fame must bee thy owne gift. Vices will gaine vnto thee a fame odious, and hate­full, but vertues, honourable, and euerlasting. Intreate this fame of thy selfe; show in this, how fa­uourable thou art to thy selfe, to thy country. For the fame of the PRINCE is oftentimes the fame of his countrey: and though fame (as I saide) be the name of a future and late-lasting good, yet not­withstanding thou in deseruing wel of the common wealth, inwardly shall perceiue those ioyes, which aduance the best men, aboue the common delights of the ignorant and base multitude.

[Page 116] Thus thou vnderstandest, how little acquaintance, thou oughtest to haue with sordide and infectious pleasures, which most of all do hurt him, whome most of all they flatter, which effeminate any man, bee hee neuer so strong; wheresoeuer thy are, from thence, strength both of the body and mind are spee­dily banisht; whosoeuer he is (be hee neuer so vali­ant) after that pleasures haue laide hold vpon him, hee is nothing else, but the relikes and shadowe of that he was.

To conclude, pleasures do drowne the minde in that gulph from whence it cannot easily be freede. [...]ye, what can be more vnworthy, him that is beauti­fied with that honour to be called a man? what can be a greater enemy to him, who is a Prince? Nei­ther the armed troupes, nor the enemy that hath possessed the field, or shaken the walles, is so much to bee feared by a Prince, as this sorrow making mon­ster pleasure: These doe not besiege the wals, but deceiue the sences; they come not a farre off, but are at hande and within our selues; they assault vs not with foote, and horse, but they stirre vppe our whole body and all partes of it against the soule; I say they distract man and are authors of a ciuill warre within himselfe. In mans inward parts they fight so fiercely and so treacherously, that the better, and more noble part of man is brought into subiec­tion to the worse; so that whilst man particularly dissenteth in himselfe, hee is wholy conquered; [Page 117] all brought vnder the rule of an other; whol­ly compelled to yeelde altogether from him­selfe; and plainely transformed into a brute beast.

Therefore (O Prince) if thou desirest that thy Name may bee gratefull, and honourable to po­sterity, and from hence obtaine ioyes, that are sound and continuall; if thou wilt haue this dignity, to be a steppe to those happie and euerlasting rewards, that are reserued for good Princes; blowe away and disperse these darke cloudes of vulgar and base pleasure which interposed before thy eyes, e­clipse from thee the sight of those heauenly ioyes: If thou at any time bee brought into a true contem­plation of these, then thou wouldest not knowe what those impure pleasures are, which are alot­ted to sordide and base persons. Let them keepe vnto themselues that which is fit for them, vnder­goe thou that difficult labour, in the ende where­of there is true felicity. It is euery mans worke to looke at that which is before his feete, But it is thy office, to looke further and to aime higher, and those thinges which are either behinde or be­neath thee (as beeing ouer base) not once to regard them.

Surely whosoeuer is drawne throughly with the loue of heauenly things, can be no more intangled in these base and vile desires, then an Aeagle in the small threades of a spyders webbe. There­fore [Page 118] resolue thy selfe, that no base thing is to bee thought of by thee; that nothing is to bee desired of thee, which is not great and excellent. And last of all, that nothing is to bee esteemed great by thee, which is not indeede such in the iudgments of all. Thus shalt thou obtaine, that thy wishes shalbe worthy thy selfe, and that place which thou sustai­nest; and in the highest place, thou shalt obtaine the highest honour.

Thus, if thou neuer seuer thy wishes from the common wishes; if thou intendest nothing, that is of a priuate and vnlawfull hope, if thou equalest thy hopes to the rule of right; al men wil striue, who shal most further them: hee will thinke to haue gained much vnto himselfe, who shall approue himselfe most to thee: who shall performe to thee most la­bour, most studie, most seruice. Thus walking this way, thou shalt neuer be thrust into those headlong and dangerous downfalles; thou shalt couet nothing that is anothers; thou shalt neuer take armes for glo­ry, and only to boast thy greatnesse and power: Co­uer not thy ill ambition with false names; thinke it not a Kingly thing to striue for that which is an o­thers, and inglorious onely to defend thine owne: but proceede vnwillingly (and as it weare compel­led with the malice of those with whome thou hast to deale) to reuenge publike iniuries, and recouer the right of thy kingdome from vniust possessours, with a vertuous and religious warre. Admit for thy [Page 119] companions not headlong Couetousnesse, and blinde desire, but duty, and fortitude; and then doubt not, but thou shalt breake open those passages that are shut; thou shalt goe through those pathes that are beset; thou shalt make playne those places that are vneuen; and easily escape all difficulties what­soeuer; in one word, what course soeuer thou take, it is sure to bee ballanst and certaine. The reason is manifest, because all things are easie, obuious, and open to these two vertues, Iustice and Fortitude. And as infelicity, repentance, and sorrow are vsu­ally the end of wicked and vnwise designes, so vic­tory, successe, and felicity, are the recompence of those actions that are well begun. If these and such like thoughts, be firmely rooted in thy inward soule, thou (whosoeuer thou art that sittest in the throne of Maiesty) if thou professest the feare of GOD, if thou crauest his holy spirit, to be the author of thy councell, and the directour of thy life, thy mind (doubtlesse) shalbe purified, and all blemishes of an vnthankefull minde being remooued, and thy eyes cleered, thou shalt then perceiue those heauenly and happy giftes wherewith thou art compased, and aduaunced to that honour. Thus banishing all inward blindnesse, thou shalt not measure this place with his watchfull cares, with his vngratefull labours; not with the liberties of vices not in the opertunities of pleasure, but in the occasions of iuste aduantages of well deseruing of mankinde, [Page 122] which is the onely and chiefe end of Souereignity, and by this meanes thou shalt giue iust, and deser­ued thankes with due honour, and a gratefull full minde, to the KING of all kinges, who is only most great, and most wise.

I Did thinke that I had finished this labour of rehearsing, of admonishing, of chasti­sing vngratefull persons; and I was rea­dy to lay aside my pen; when behold su­dainely I saw a great troup of vnthankfull creatures, and indeed such a one, as that those whō I haue rec­koned already, are but few in comparison of these. If I should goe about to rehearse them, all the day woulde hide it selfe, before I had fully acom­plisht halfe: And indeede as many men as I see, so many men likewise doe I see vnthankefull, [Page 122] wicked, & iniurious esteemers of those benefits that they haue receiued; Nay I do not except him, who although he can scarce speake, yet euen the words of his infancy are but lamentatiōs of that misery which he faineth to himselfe, and being so little, yet he car­rieth a heart swelling, and full of anger. He scarce is, and yet he is altogether vnthankefull. Oh happy (saith he) are men which do liue at their owne dispo­sition, and are not kept in this hard gouernment of Parents; or of those to whom their parents haue committed the chardge. Oh what ill lucke haue I, who, if I desire any thing, be it neuer so small, and such a thing as without losse to any may be giuen vn to me, yet it is either denied me proudly, or by force taken or secretly conuaied from me, only of purpose to crosse mee. There is no man that is elder then I, which dooth not as it were of right, with a kinde of boldnesse, challenge authority ouer me; the basest flaue in the house is made more account of then I, that am appointed to be the heyre: All men abuse my weakenesse, my tendernes, my simplicity; There is scarce any man that thinketh it fit to please, or o­bey me; I must euer heare sharpe words, hard, bit­ter, and cruel speeches, as peace, heare, come hither, goe, do this, do not that, take heed sirrah: and such like. I see nothing but teachers and correctours eue­ry where (that is vexers and tormenters of this yong age): and if I doe any thing childishly, or speake or doe any thinge merily, O bolde boy (they say) [Page 123] They threaten, & indeed beate me; my nurse when I was a child did wrappe vp my body straitly in my swadling clothes; but now is all that libertie more straitly shut vp, which I ought to haue had from my mothers wombe; I must now liue at others mens di­rection, at other mens pleasures; if this bee to liue, thus to liue vnder so vniust and cruell gouernment. And thus am I vsed, although I see and know well enough, what is fit to be donne, and for any thinge that I see, me thinkes I haue more witte and vnder­standing then these auncient folke, which seeme to be so wise, which speake nothing but these ould do­ting sayings, euer imposing hardnes vpon me, labor, studie, watching, manners, respect of my elders, and all sad and hard things. And all these things (say they) belong to vertue: When indeede they knowe not what vertue is.

This I am sure of, that by this meanes they take vniustly from me my pleasures, my play, my delight; thus obstinatly they deale, to take me from my plea­sure, whilst they seeke not only to keepe me from be­ing merrie, but hardly and straitly keepe me in, im­posing vpon me at these yeares auncient and graue behauiour: Neither do they consider that by this meanes, they do weaken that liberall, and ingenious disposition, which I knowe no comparison of o­thers, to bee in mee: Shall I neuer come out of this bondage and gouernment? Shall I neuer liue at my owne pleasure? Must I euer be ruld by others? [Page 124] They call also in derision the scoole a play; were we scarce play, but I am put thither, that they may play Ludus. vpon my skinne; and such as I am. A playe in­deede, nay a most vnpleasant place where still I am either beaten, or afrayd; There I must euer liue vnder a tyrant, who if hee inflict any punishment, I cannot appeale from him, hee himselfe ac­cuseth, subscribeth, inquireth, knoweth, and pu­nisheth.

Thus doe their ieastinges prooue earnest to vs, and in their confidence they rule in this play as if they were in earnest. Thou shalt neuer see them, but frowning to terrifie vs. But alas, what learne wee there, and against our willes to? what rewarde haue wee of this dayly and continuall labor? and of such vexation? vnlesse peraduenture they thinke it concernes the Commonwealth, to haue our tender wittes wrapped vp in these trifles, & to sticke fast in these rough thornie quidities of Grammer: For what else shall I call these letters, sillable, nownes, verbes, inflections, coniugations, terminations, cases, tenses, Syntaxis, exceptions, and to conclude whatsoeuer els is contained in those harse rules of Grammer? Which (notwith­standing) they vrge and boast of, as a thing seri­ous, and the hight of all learning. Must our wits be thus miserablie tormenmed, as though there were nothing, which could more pleasantly bee learned, or more profitablie bee knowne? Is this [Page 125] that aduantage that I haue to bee borne noblie, or honestly as I am? I would to God I had beene borne in some poore cottage, in no reckoning, or account, there might I haue liued more at libertie: there eue­rie man is wife enough without a teacher: there is no such word, as a more liberall education, which I thinke to bee harde seruitude: there no man is kept in so straitly: neither are manners there so carefully and exactly squared by the rules of this scrupelous and odious ciuilitie, which destroyeth the manners, which men haue by nature, and chan­geth them into feined counterfeite and composed manners, which you may better call a counterfaiting of an ingenious disposition.

There those that are my equalles liue with little res­pect, or reuerence to their parents and elders: there euerie man followeth his naturall libertie: at least they are freed from this feare, which continually makes me sweate, and no maruaile, if I bring out my wordes slowly, and stumblingly: if (neuer at my owne gouernment) I liue a life vnpleasant, and vn­sweete. But (they say) this is the way to honestie, to honor, to dignitie, whatsoeuer in mans life is rare, to bee wished for, to bee admired, it is propoun­ded, and allotted to no other, then those who haue their childhood and youth trayned in those learnings.

These or such like euery vnskilfull fellow vrgeth, war­ranted by authority, rather then reason; because they [Page 126] make a faire show, which I can neuer be perswaded are truely spoken: so farre doe my sences not only abhorre from these things, but from the me­morie of them. Well, howsoeuer it is, I thinke they are not of that value to be bought at so deire a price.

SVrely I maruaile, how these ill thoughts so soone creepe into so young a mind; which being corrupted: I do lesse mar­uaile, such speeches to come into a mouth so pratling, and full of talke. Heare my sonne: if yet, thou art not full of goodnesse (for from whence shouldest thou haue it)? yet thou oughtest to be voyd of euill. But thou (in the very entrance) showest how readie thou art to euill, whilst thou professest those things, from which, if modestie could not, yet the knowledge of thy owne ignorance, ought to restraine thee. But as in a fruit­full [Page 128] soyle, poysoned weeds doe grow of their owne accord, when as wholesome hearbs scarce grow with out tilling, so in the minde of man, if discipline and wholesome precepts do not first possesse him, there may be easily reaped a haruest of much ill, which I do obserue in thee at this time; Thou disdaynest that thou liuest at an other mans gouernment. Here let me aske of thee, if thou knowest what it is to liue. I know, thou wilt answere me that to liue is nothing els but to be: For those that are dead are not: Consi­der in this speech how much ignorance thou bewra­yest, thus things without life do liue, because they are, why dost thou blush? I know thou wishest it vn­spoken, this witte of thine, doth in this discouer his ignorance; take heed therefore that thou do not say; that thou liuest because thou art: I confesse nothing hath life, but that which is, but to man there must something more be added to make him liue, not the life of plants, hearbes, and such like, nor the life of beastes, but of men, the life of man is the so­cietie, and vnion both of bodie and soule. The soule is a deuine breath, which infused into the body doth mooue it with his owne and proper mo­tion.

Therefore thou mayst cal man a body animated, or rather a reasonable soule composed with a bodie, gi­uen vnto it for his gouernour. Therefore when wee­say man liues, wee doe not say man only vseth the offices of the body, but of the soule, which possesseth [Page 129] the bodie as an instrument, or a se [...]uant, or a slaue: If then thou vnderstandest what are the offices of the soule, thou shalt obserue that the same are the offi­ces of the whole man: this doth the soule, at this it aymeth, to make it selfe, and the bodie (that is the whole man) like vnto God. So that, humanitie is nothing els, but a certaine diuinitie, exprest in this mortall flesh: now with what steppes dost thou think do wee ascend into this high dignitie? Surely, with pietie and good manners, pietie we haue sayd to be a true knowledge and worship of God: manners are the fruites and effects of pietie, or rather a pietie, which seasons the affections, from whence it is dis­persed into the sences; then seeing to liue, is nothing else but dayly to be purgd, to waxe pure, to be lifted vp, and more vnited to God; man (in his life) ought to propound no other thing but pietie and reforma­tion of his manners: to bee indued with these not of any sorte, but with the least, the most chast, the most seuere, the most holy.

Thus thou seest, that thou art not borne by chance, but of purpose and to a great ende, namely that thou mayst bee come religious, and holy, and a renued Image of that Diety, that framed thee.

Now I demand of thee, if thou of thy selfe knowest what these are, which I haue named piety & maners. I think thou wilt answere, that thou knowest not those things, which thou cāst not know, vnles thou learne [Page 130] them; and now thou confessest that thou art ignorāt of vertue, which is nothing else but a Pietie working in the inward man, and showinge it selfe foorth in his life, in one word, vertue is nothing else, but actiue pietie. Now thou must needes confesse that thou knowest not what it is to liue, be not afraide to con­fesse it, It is an excellent thing (saith Columella) and hee is a wise and a skilfull writer, who vnderstan­deth that hee is ignorant of that hee knoweth not, and desireth to learne that, whereof he is ignorant, If thou art ignorant, thou art to bee taught, and to bee instructed.

Dislike not this speech as too hard. For in the in­crease of yeares, and when thou hast more experi­ence, thou shalt finde thy selfe full of rashnes and o­uermuch loue; what art thou to be taught? to know to loue, to follow God, and consequently to auoyde those things which God hateth & abhorreth. These are the true effects of that Pietie, which I haue spokē off; and vntill thou commest to this degree of know­ledge and vertue (beleeue me) thou art not a man, but halfe a wilde beast; that is a mans body in shape, but inwardly full of sauadge, and wild behauiour. Ther­fore if thou wilt be wholy a man, not halfe a man, and halfe a beast, yeeld thy selfe wholy into the gouermēt of thy soule; let thy soule with the bridle of reason, rule thy affections; let thy affections commaund thy sences, then shall thy sences bee contained within the lymittes and boundes of chastitie, holinesse, [Page 131] Innocency; they shalbe such as is fit, for those that are seruants to the soule, Thus thou shalt frame Pyety vnto thy selfe, that most holy good, and the fountaine of all good things. From Pyety, Holinesse is disperst into the manners; both these waies dire­ctly lead vs to that most happy estate which I haue spoken of before, which is a likenesse of God. Thus according to that towardnesse that is in thee, thou art wholly to be stirred vp, wholly to be inflamed, with an honest desire, to lay aside whatsoeuer sa­uadge disposition is in thee; that thou maist bee wholly a man, and from being a man be translated into God. I doe see thy mind which out goes thy age, I see thy sparkes of gentility, which if thou fol­low rightly, doubtlesse thou shall attaine this honor. I see those branches of vertue in thee, swelling full readie to burst foorth. I do see the blossomes fore­runners of thy shining vertue; therefore proceede to lend thy mind and thy eares to my councell, thi­ther, whither thou must goe, nothing can bring thee but seuerity of education. The ground (though it be fruitful) yet it is tamed with the plough; the clods must be broken, harrowed, and the whole field duly husbanded; in this maner there must be a violence done to thee; thy wit must be manured, which thogh it bee good, yet till then it is vntilled and full of thornes, from thence must bee weeded whatsoeuer is hurtfull; oftentimes must it be turned ouer, and brought vnder, that it may be ciuill, soft and tender; [Page 132] that it may bee bettered and fit for to receiue good seede; this is the digging and pruning of it, to c [...] off that which is superfluous, luxuriant, and hurtfull; in the country this is done in the earth; in the vine, in the braunches, in the trees; with thee, in the mind, in the affections, in the sences, in the words, in the manners. This is neuer done, without much weari­nesse of the husbandmen, and not without some vexation vnto thee; whilst the person is cured, they set farre from him the touch of those meates which are not only apparently hurtfull, but of those which are somewhat vnwholesome; the one ouerthrow the strength of medecines, the other hinder it; so, when the witte is tamed with the force of education, with all, thou art to bee drawne from thy desires, thy delightes, thy pleasures, thy insolent spirits are to bee supprest, and kept vnder, thy insulting and quicke wit is to bee contained within the bonds of frugality and modesty; amongst all vertues there are none fitter for that age, none fitter to receiue learning; thy opinion beeing at that yeares (if thou hast any) is to be directed by the sentence and will of an other; thou must of necessity wholly depende vppon the iudgment of those, to whome thou art committed; these are those carefull workemen, of so great a taske; who vndertake to perfect, and fi­nish what nature hath begunne; Doubtlesse thou art thrice happy, if timely thou gainest this disci­pline, and indeede more seuere and more sincere, [Page 133] by the helpe whereof thou shalt passe those shal­lowes of sinne, and wickednesse wherein so manie men (although well instructed) vnfortunately sinke; whose maisters haue not so much instructed their toward dispositions, as haue armed their vices; I will vse the examples of great men, Alcibiades and Crycias (the daily auditors of Zocrates) were prin­cipally instructed, who can deny it? Yet neither of them was honest, Nay both rather the reproach and staine, not onely of their families, but of the Common-wealth. For the one assaulted his coun­trey, and with the others riches was the liberty of it shaken. What shall I say of Nero? was there euer any man better taught? Did euer any man liue more monstrously? I could easily remember many such out of auntient and late stories, and I would do it, if it were not needelesse to teache a thinge so well knowne, that many haue prooued very farre vnlike to their beginninges and their first edu­cation.

Now what doe you thinke shall happen to them, which are left to themselues? Who are left neg­lected, and vntaught? In how daungerous, how slippery, how headelong a place are they? Are they not withall laide open to a Worlde of vices, to the froth of infecting pleasures, to the dangerous tempests of sinne? Must not these expect in the end, an ineuitable shiep-wracke? not to detaine thee longe, it must bee confest, that without [Page 134] discipline, men are not made men, but forged the vnhappy & deformed brood of villany, and so the hatefull procurers of Gods wrath. Moreouer thou complainest, that thy maners are seuerely corrected, and thy wits informed into wisedome with auntient rigour & strict discipline, least they should be weak­ned & deformed with vices. Surely if it be not done at this time (& with all speed) it will neuer be done. It is once done, that it neede not euer bee done; and it is done now, that it may not bee done too late, For it is much to be accustomed to any thing, when one is yong, I do not deny but amidst the cares of man­ners, and the study of learning, remission of labour, play and recreation are to be granted to thee; so that, that whatsoeuer be, be done warily, moderatly, and tempred with holinesse, and modesty. Therefore the first and most laboursome work of thy educatiō, is in sweeping, purging and preparing of thee: Next vnto this, is another care not much lesse, sowing, plan­ting, ingrafting in thee, and such like; for it is to little purpose to plough, vnlesse thou sowe; to pull vp, vn­lesse thou plant: to prune, vnlesse thou ingraft; these offices as far forth as they belong to thy education, are earnest and seasonable admonitions, wholesome precepts, which are an effectuall meanes of perswa­ding, and of instilling into the minde that feare and reuerence of God, which is the possessour of a pure heart, and a chast mind, the worker of all holinesse, & to conclude the reconciler of God and man.

[Page 135] From hence it followeth, that that which wee call learning, leadeth him directly vnto this. Now lear­ning no man throughly obtaineth, without the help of seuere discipline, which thou lately blamedst; one part of learning is the knowledge of things created, and of all those things which are without vs; but there is an other part, which is more inward, true, and better, which is the true knowledge of God, and of himselfe, so farre as the minde of man is capable of them, this knowledge we call true wisedome: which then truly is so, when there cleaueth to it a true strength of the minde, gathered and collected from true precepts, and worthy & honourable examples. This is that which good learning promiseth, and performeth, not to euery learner, but onely to him, whose good and fortunate wi [...] hath admitted lear­ning, that it may be as a help to a good mind. Now when I say learning, I meane no such thing as the vulgar thinke, that is, a vaine ostentation of learned schollership, that which furthereth a man nothing to the feare of God; that learning for which so many insolent and triuiall Saterists knit their browes, as men busied in most weighty affaires, when indeede all that great noise they make, is nothing els, but swelling & importunity: and no thing more vnlear­ned then such learning. Neither doe I meane that learning, which hath buried those auntient manners; the forerunners of lust (which these effeminate halfe learned men, that haue an itch of Poetizing) long [Page 136] since, haue made a band of it. Let this learning pack hence which is nothing but a corrupter to wanton­nesse. Neither doe I meane that learning which he vseth, who at this day is a great man:

Nor to conclude that drosse and scum of learning, or whatsoeuer in learning, profitable may bee vn­knowne. That I account learning, which so beautifi­eth a man outwardly, that inwardly it dooth arme him, and instruct him, whether he speake or hold his peace: silent in manners, and innocency: speaking in wisedome and eloquence. Now to lear­ning, there is no entrance, but by Grammer; I confesse the entrance to Grammer is so hard, so thorny, that it seemes to bee without any path, there is nothing can delight him that commeth to it, but meerely Hope. Hope sure and neare. And as amongst thorns of­tentimes are gathered sweet roses, so by the knotty and vnpleasant pathes of Grammer, we come to the sweetenesse of pure, and reformed speech: From hence to the knowledge of those arts, which doe car­ry a man to that knowledge of God, whereof mor­tality is capable.

Therefore, that which now thou fearest as hard, hereafter thou wilt imbrace as pleasant; that which is now horrid and ill sauoured; after, thou shalt see the same beautifull, that which thou callest drie, and [Page 137] barren, thou wilt maruaile for the plenty of it to bee so fruitfull, and for the profit to bee so sweete, Doubt not but hony followeth this gall; the time will come, and it is not farre of, when hauing power ouer thy selfe, thou shalt vnderstand these things to bee truely and holesomely spoken. Neither then wilt thou complaine to bee called to an account, for that which thou doost childishly and ignorantly; thou wilt not then wish thy selfe borne in that estate and condition, where childishnesse and all thy other time may bee spent without shame of offending, without feare, and reuerence of thy betters; with­out teaching, without hope of any after-reward; thou wilt then confesse that feare to bee a profitable af­fection, and an ornament; not a signe of thy no­bilitie, or a title of thy kindred, but a great and a verie honou [...]able token of that ingenious docility, and vertuous capacity, that is ingrafted in thee. This respect and reuerence a pledge of thy future modesty, the imbracing of these liberall arts, to bee the approaching haruest of much vertue; the hope of rewarde and the sure guide; that leads to re­warde, what shall I vse many words? That which nowe seemes vnto thee a hard seruitude, is a svveete condition; This is the hie vvaie to true liberty. This feare begetteth true ioye; learne my sonne hereafter to bee as thankefull; as thou hast now shewed thy selfe vnthankefull, laye quite aside this vvantonnesse in time; take to thy selfe thoughts, [Page 138] simple, pure, honest and vpright. Humbly worship God, to whom thou art so deere and intimate, who that thou maist be perpetually his, will haue thee (be­ing young) framed like vnto himselfe, and by that meanes (vnwillingly, & striuing against) yet of wit docible and capable to bring thee vnto him. Next vnto God, reuerence thy parents, and all those, who are placed ouer thee, as domestical magistrates, who in care and good-wil succeed in the place of parents, and bring thee vp liberally & ingeniously, that thou maist one day giue ful assurance, that thou weart pro­fitably borne to thy selfe and the common wealth. Of these thou must confesse, that thou art beloued, & beloued againe; when they do load thee (who art but halfe a man) with those guifts of the mind; that thou maist be a whole man, in euery respect absolute; & so wholly dedicate thy self to God, that thou maist whol ly be pyety, and holines, which is the full per­fection of all Humane felicitie.

IN this cause, and in this kinde, a wo­man is next vnto a childe. Few do cō ­taine their hopes, few their speeches, in the bounds of womanly modestie, & the shamefastnesse of their sex, whilst they complaine, that they are vnworthely vsed; whilst they are vnmeasura­bly angry at their sex, as being weake & vnequall to their great minds. In one word, whilst they (from mindes not to bee comforted) complaine that they are weomen, they accuse openly and greatly God, that did thus make them. There is scarce any, who [Page 140] haue not these and the like thoughts in them. Oh, woe is me, why was I not borne a man, who haue a minde not vnfit for any thing. Must I be tyed to this sex which is a bondslaue to idlenes, and slouth? What do I (wretch that I am) follow vertue, to whom nature hath giuen no generous spirits? And which least they should show themselues, they must against my will bee choakt and supprest? Why foole that I am do I aspire to any honour, to any renowne, or a reward of vertue, to whom all the passages of vertue are shut vp? O vaine instinct, O noble spirits, ingrafted in me idly, which are confinde in that short roome of this obeying sex, whereof I am gree­ued, ashamed, and repent.

There is great in aequallitie in a minde that is not weake, and a condition so much to bee repented of: Thus haue wee a perpetuall conflict with our selues, and a cruell torment wherewith we are afflicted. If I may say it, to what ende haue wee so much acute­nesse, sharpenesse, vnderstanding and quickenesse graunted to vs? To what purpose haue we such a nimble witte, such a swift minde? But that these thinges may be a torment to vs, by whose meanes wee vnderstand those thinges which wee are kept from? Is it not that wee may bee vnprofitably angry at other mens ignorance and slouth, that we seri­ously may greeue to see dull and slouthfull heades possesse those roomes, that belong vnto vs. For what profit is it to know, that which it is in vaine to know? [Page 141] to be able to vse that which wee must not touch? to striue to goe thither, frō whence we are kept backe? wee are forbidden the knowledge and profession of liberall arts: we [...] are comm [...]nded to abstaine from publike offices: wee cannot attaine to the honor due to warres, nor those valiant actes; because for­sooth in these things, there is most vertue which they say is deriued from hence, in that it belonges vnto men.

Is it not plaine that wee are excluded from all hope of honor, and from all those thinges which are greatest and most to bee desired? which things being taken from vs; what is there left vs for which our condition may seeme (I doe not say to bee wisht for) but to bee tollerable. Wee are set to trifles, wherewith in the meane time wee are delighted as children with faire speeches and flatterie; with which wee are loaden, whilest wee are robbed of true praise, and that which is mos [...] to bee lamen­ted, wee are partners in those thinges, wherein men gaine their most prayse, and yet they ascribe it on­ly to themselues: where wee haue any thing to doe, there is nothing of any moment.

And it is no maruayle, if wee bee ad­mitted into no societie of name and honor with men,

The prayse of whole Countryes belonges vnto men, only Tryumphes, victories, all honors they are mens: and we (as all other thinges) are [Page 142] but the aditions of those prayses that are giuen to men. But this indignitie (marke their craft) they mitigate with the len [...]tie of wordes, whilst they call vs wiues, fellowes, and their co [...]iōs in al things; when indeede (if a man esteeme it rightly) there is no equality betwixt vs & them, no communion of dig­nitie and authoritie, but that which is trifling and in name only. Whereas indeede wee are reckoned vp amongst other ordinarie houshold-stuffe, little better then bondslaues, and yet for the burden and labour, we haue more then the greater part; And as we are kept from all good things, so we beare almost alone all the burden of their ill. If men haue begun any thing that they canot goe through, we must finish it: If they offend abroad, we must smart for it at home: the sorrowe of their madde pleasures lights vpon vs; Men, they haue the pleasurs, the delights; but we haue the sorrow, wee haue the teares; men, they haue the reward of their labours, wee only haue the necessitie of it: Our frugalitie must maintaine their riot, our obedience must increase their licentiousnes, our modestie their fear [...]enes: whilst euerie one of them pleaseth himselfe, and taketh delight in whatsoeuer pleaseth him, we (in the meane time) si [...]te like lambs, cripples within our doores, not Idle, but commanded to take care of the house, and set vnto those busines­ses, wherein there is nothing but plaine bondage. This is that, which increaseth our greefe: for in the house, what tedious seruitude are wee tide vnto? [Page 143] First of all, the education of our children is referd vn­to vs, which is some ease of the intollerable labours of child birth; In this, our husbands do notably abuse our affections, for because wee are mothers, they say this burthen belonges to the mother only, which indeede were fit aequally to be borne of both? and as we are daughters, we are immediatly as an vnprofitable burthen put out of our fathers house, & sent to liue with strangers; thus we goe from the go­uernment of our parents into the hands of our hus­bands, new Lords, whose dispositions (how crosse so­euer) we must suffer euen against our willes; & with­out any hope of a more tollerable condition: If wee bee widowes, then are wee subiect to wrongs, and layd open without defence to all iniuries, & reproa­ches, forsaken of all, yea, oftentimes of those, of whom it is little fit wee should: I grant, there are some things granted vnto as great fauours, which indeede may be reckoned amongst those scoffes, & derisions that are vsed towards vs; that is our cleanelines, and ornaments, and all those furnitures which they call the womans world; thus are wee deckt like painted birdes, only to please others. And as children haue toyes giuen to please them, so are we thus painted only to content our husbands: May not any man see these scoffinges? Is it not enough that we are con­temned, but we must be thus made a scorne and de­rision? We are forbidden to meddle with any thing; wee are kept from publicke offices, wee are neuer [Page 144] suffered to come abroad, but as some solemne pomp which is caried to be seene; wee are forbidden to ob­taine those commendations which are true prayses, wee are shut vp in our houses as perpetual prisoners, wee are by the name of wiues subiect to other plea­sures, brought vnder an vniust gouernment. Thus doe they abuse our simplicitie. In one word, if you respect either beautie, or witte, we must confesse wee are placed high enough, but from thence wee are cast downe, to that lowe estate, that wee haue lost all that is excellent.

Idoe heare this old complaint, not ther­fore iust because it is old, but in this the more vniust, in that it is more commō, and more vsuall: Thou oughtest longe since (O woman) to haue vnderstoode the dignitie of thy condition; and this knowledge long since ought to haue ben a bridle to thy vntamed minde, to thy foolishnes, licentiousnes, and to thy intemperate tongue.

Thou oughtest long since to haue knowne, that thou art a man, thē whom (in that he is the second frō god) there is no creature vpon earth more high, more ex­lent; this very name (man) ought to haue takē away al [Page 146] emulation; seeing to man there can bee none with himselfe: Neither art thou only the sister of man, but mans twinn, or rather (if thou wilt so haue it) another man; not lesse in dignitie then that first, but only in the order of birth later, in sex distinguisht from him, but proceding frō the same high power, wrought by the same hand of that great workeman, made of the same beginning, both linckt to one another, in that, neither goeth cōtrarie waies, neither ayming at him­selfe, but both (nature being their guide) lincked to his mate, both agree in this neerenes, or rather vnitie, in wishes, intent, in loue, that this Common wealth of man-kinde may not bee rent in factions, but in many kindes, preseruing an vnitie: and that, that Image of God may remaine one, and the same, not in one man, but (which is more excellent) in all.

Seeing then, from the same beginninges thou art brought by the same meanes, to the same end, wher­unto all mortalitie tendeth, see how far thou di [...]en­test, not only from man, but from humanitie, when thou dost so malipertly complaine that thou art in­dued with a soule degenerous & fit for nothing. Cō ­sider here (if thou art not much deceiued;) thou shalt not degenerate, if thou d [...]st neither depart nor dis­sent from the author, if in humilitie thou submittest thy necke to that yoake thou art appointed, if con­stantly, thou beare this without complayning▪ not to bee degenerous (bee not deceiued) is not to [Page 147] meddle aboue thy reach; but to containe thy selfe within the limits of thy dutie, not to wander from thy first beginnings, not to be vnlike thy selfe, but firmely and continually, to apply that, to which thou ar [...] alotted. Now consider with mee what is that taske that GOD hath set thee vnto; thou art made to this ende, that thou maist bee an other man, if thou art another, thou canst not bee the first, therefore constantly keepe that place, that is alotted to thee; that which is anothers, belonges nothing to thee. For there is nothing more acceptable to God, then for all men to act those parts, that are committed to them: This thy sex is that great and large theator, wherein all this must bee done: Out of this, thou art out of thy parte, thou art nothing, thou canst not please God: To this sex is appointed to watch; to this watch, dil­ligence; to both feare. VVhat mooueth thee (O thou wretch) that thou art to be a r [...]agate from this so profitable an affection? what loosenesse is this of thy weake minde, that thou which art borne to care, and watchfulnesse, shouldest serue boldnesse, and [...]ircenesse? Instead of a mind firme and con­stant, to take vnto thy selfe a minde degenerous? that departing from it selfe, taking care of other things and forgetting her owne, that thou art placed in safety goest into a place slippery, and so headlong and full of rockes. Surely one that is so borne, no­thing doth so well beseeme them, as a disposition [Page 148] quiet & modest; wherof thou art well admonisht by thy habit, in that thou art maskt & hooded. As soone as thou art desirous of rule, and seekest to deale with those things that are aboue thy strength & capacity; and as soone as by incountring daungers thou wilt shew how valiant and strong thou art; thou dost put off that woman, that God made thee, & putst vpon thee, I know not what shape of a mōster, thou canst not lay aside thy womanish dispositiō, but thou stai­nest it with manlike vices; neither is it strange, if all men abhorre that kinde of women as vnlikely, which laying aside their modest garments and behauiour, put thēselues in armour, commanding their troopes of souldiers, challenging the enemy; which haue such foreheads that they dare make long orations to the people, to giue lawes; and to conclude: handle all publique and ciuill duties; this sex ought to bee acquainted with none of these actions; these mo­tions, nature hath denied vnto them: If any Wo­man ouer impudently affect these, ouer-uiolently be carried to this course, shee is no more a Woman, but an vntamed creature, which treadeth vnder foote all Womanish ornaments. But thou saist all these praises men haue. Indeede it is so, and right­ly by order, for the good of the common wealth, And as becōmeth men: it belongs vnto a man with valiant acts to make waie to those honours, without which, their vertues are nothing els but slouth, for euery power of the minde that hath not his ende [Page 149] propounded doth wax faint, and if no man dooth affect praise, if no man desire to bee made Noble by dangers, If vertue haue nothing to awake it, straight all society of life is troubled and confused, the Common wealth is left to bee torne in peeces, by euery base fellow. There is nothing sacred or holy, no man shall haue any substance: outrages shall possesse all places: boldnesse shall challenge all things to it selfe: to conclude, we shall neuer liue a life safe, and secure; but wandring and full of scar­city. Therefore God hath prouidently ingrafted in men this desire of performing hard things, and so of obtaining praise: the worker of those things which in this mortalitie are greatest. I doe not thinke in this there is an enuie that dooth trouble thee; for so thou enuiest thy selfe, so thou shouldest looke asquint at thy owne good, there is nothing with thee seuered from thy husband. No not thy beeing; nor any of these things which belong vn­to thee, or wherein thy safety and welfare consisteth. Beeing thus admitted to bee his companion of his goods, thou art admitted into fellowship of his good nesse, and of his praise, and art honoured with that glory which thy husband doth cast vpon thee: nei­ther is it strange, if both your wishes be contained in either, If thou pertakest with his prosperity and aduersity. For thou canst not if thou wouldest putte off this minde, nor abrogate this lawe of Nature; nay nor breake this same [Page 150] league; these same tauntes and disdainefull gaulings of the mind, which so much trouble thee, account them no more to be the effects of true gentility then mushroomes, burres, thistels, and such like are to be tearmed fruites. Take heed that thou dost not for­get that modesty, which is more gratious then any fauour, and fairer then any beautie. Thou canst not ascribe too much to thy selfe, but with all thou must despise thy husband; and how farre thou de­partest from feare, shame and respect; so farre thou departest from those vertues, which may truly be cal­led iewels, of that sex, pretious without cost, and so pretious, that they ought to be esteemed as life, and ransomed with death. Therefore this violence of minde, vnprofitable and vnseemely, containe with­in the bovndes and limits of modesty; bee not ouer wittie to abuse those good-gifts that nature hath lent thee, make not vnto thy selfe a needelesse businesse: but wholly addict thy self to his loue and obedience, to whome this sex of thine hath tyed thee; especially to that diuine will, wherein it is fit, all humane desires be extinguisht: if thy care be any, let it bee this, to cut off all womanish complaint, and foolish wrang­ling, neuer bee puft vp with inconsiderate violence, neuer trouble thy selfe with an needelesse labour: whatsoeuer liketh thy husband let it please thee: wherin he placeth thy name, dignity & honor in that rest. To conclude, so resolue, that as he is born to the common-wealth, so thou art borne to him. For God [Page 151] will haue our whole life contained in these limittes, Commandement and Obedience. These are those two firme bondes, wherewith all humane societie is ty­ed. God commandeth and man obeieth. But that, due obedience may be giuen to that wise Creator of all things, hee hath giuen and disposed to euery man his speciall chardge; to men, to be Gods vicegerents; to women, to be mens helpers; thou canst not inuert this order, but thou must bee equall to thy husband. For when thou ceasest to obey, thou beginnest to be his equal; if equal, to be his superiour, if his superior, surely to bee his worse, because thou wilt bee wise o­therwise then GOD hath appointed; who would haue both you to liue in obedience to him, and betwixt your selues in that order which hee hath set downe, and to those that do this, hee hath submit­ted all this (how great soeuer) frame of his creatures; and hath alotted to you wisedome, & vnderstanding fit for it; to him, what is fit for commanding, to thee, what is for obeying; hence it is that thou oughtest to permit vnto thy husband all the gouernment of thy minde, and the strength of it; neither think that thy husband doth ad more to your common good, by this knowledge and power of commanding, but thou dost as much by thy diligence of obeying; and in that thou art not hazarded in publique dangers, know that this is for thy honor, who as a more preti­ous vessel, art kept safer. To what end then are so many complaints? what meane this foolish quar­reling [Page 152] with God? How art thou becom so talkeatiue? so ingenious? so subtill, in reproach and dishonour of that sacred power? Dost thou diligently obserue those vertues, which are the ornaments of thy sex? Doost thou thinke those small which are reckoned a­mongst the greatest honours, because the greatest cannot bee without them? Doe not herein shine those neuer enough esteemed ornaments, which haue aduanced some women to the highest honour? amongst these I must account those Women who excell in this, that they respect the bringing vppe of their children; whereof that thou art made an o­uerseer, belieue mee the greatest businesse of all is committed to thee; for Education is nothing else but the information of the whole life, which way this leaneth, doubtlesse that way doth a man bende. A diligent and innocent education vsually maketh men good; but a negligent and wicked, maketh them euill. Education is contained in the motherly affec­tion, diligence, looking to, admonitions, chastenings: all these things (in the tendernesse of age) doe drawe the first lines of vertue or vice, those staines or ho­nours that after rest vpon our liues, here do first take roote. Now consider how much is cōmitted to thee, to whom the whole man is committed. Doost thou then complaine that thou art euill dealt with all, and that thy vertues are shutte vppe in a narrow roome? Doubtlesse this is a place large and con­spitious, where thou maist shew them as thou doost [Page 153] vse thy care; this is no seruile office, all things in this are not only ingenious, but ful of honour, surely man of both kindes, when he considereth his birth; riseth to thee, dooth reuerence and doth worship thee, as his parent, and a parent in a two fold respect, both by the office of nature and the dignity of brin­ging vp. For it were little that hope committed to thee in thy wombe, by thy husband with a happy successe to bring into the World, if this latter care also were not added, which formeth and frameth the minde to all humanitie. Oh honorable name of a parent, O excellent prerogatiue of that mo­ther of the family, with whose vertues the whole house dooth shine: Oh happy family, wherein the sayings of a choyce and wise Woman, are so many instructions, and her deeds so many vertuous exam­ples of religion, chastitie, and holinesse, to this may bee added the care of looking to the house, which thou maist performe with frugalitie and spa­ring. These are those vertues, whereunto if thou apply thy whole minde, thou shalt gaine vnto thy selfe nobility, and honour; these are those thinges which nature, manners, lawes, impose vpon women & these businesses & cares oftentimes exclude those vices, which are vsually incident to that sex; wilfull leuity, motions variable and inconstant, pratling, pre­posterous ambition, by themselues, by their hus­bands, by their children, in their power much weakenesse, impatiency of delay, sickenesse of hope, [Page 154] wantonnes; ready anger, ryot, boldnesse, confidence an immoderate mind, and all those other monsters that doe rise from these; wherewith too many laying aside all modesty, doubt not to staine their wo­manish ornaments. Besides, oftentimes this sex is lifted vp, to the noblest vertues; yea, many times the most honorable vertues are more conspicuous and eminent in women, then in men

Besides, as the examples of womē are more rare, then of men; so they are more glorious and more pow­erfull in respect of valour. Haue not those times often fallen out, wherein the common wealth by the hand of women, from a headlong danger, hath been set in safety? peruse the antient histories, there is nothing so common as the great mindes of women; by whome decaying armies haue been strengthe­ned, and the warres ended; sometimes by opposing their brests, & sometimes by interposing their prai­ers, examples of valiant actes made vnto poste­rity, not onely of modesty, and chastity, but also of an vndaunted spirit, and that which is farre more admirable and of a certaine rare [Page 155] and deuine prouidence; and of those admirable an­swers whereunto the euents haue giuen credit and authoritie: These we must confesse a [...]e not only wor­thy of prayse but admiration, if these thinges be re­quired by the vertue of a present necessitie. For al­though it be true that this sex is not framed for these things, yet it is not altogether abhorred from them, neither is vertue forbidden to chuse out seuerall persons; and indeede it doth so, for laying hand vpon some weoman, and arresting them to obey her, thus shee blameth men: What haue I to doe with you sluggards? I will hence forth animate the hearts of these; I will inflame their mindes, arme their hands, and I will wholly fit them to deserue well of the common-wealth, that ye being sluggish, may be twise ashamed, and these awaked to honorable acti­ons, may be more glorious. From hence wee may gather, that there are not fewer seedes of vertue and valour ingrafted in women, than in men, and both of thē (vnder the same yoake) must draw to the cōmon good. Although to men vsually belong publicke af­fairs, & to womē priuat, & as those require strength so these require diligence. And besids, the time will oftē fall out, whē both these are to be mixt together, as publickly and priuately it shall be needefull: Nei­ther thus are the duties of both sexes confounded, but the hand that is readier and better furnisht for the businesse in hand, whether it be of the man or the woman, ought seasonably to vndertake it: Then the [Page 156] strength and courage of the minde shall not be hin­dred either by sex or weakenesse of bodie. And al­though these thinges thus happen extraordinarily, yet they are done in order, because they haue God for their author: who then stirreth vp manlike minds, when there is neede of manlike vertues; without this warrant, it is not lawfull for a woman to out passe the limits of her sex, and to vsurpe the dutie of man; no more then for a man to put of all humanitie and to be wise aboue God. But to returne from whence I began, I say (O Woman) thou art to haue fetters put on thy seete; not those wherewith that Venus Morpho was bownd amongst the Lacedemonianes; but those which keepe in the lasciuiousnes of thy minde; which restraine the immodestie both of thy words and deedes, and thy too licentious habits; then thou art to haue a ring vpon thy lippes, not of brasse, as was the custome of the Egyptian women, but a bond to keepe thee in silence; for nothing is fittter for thee then humble spirits: a meane in speaking, and the wisedome in being silent. To conclude, thou art to be guirded with the girdle of holines, that which way soeuer thou goest, there may breath those sweet and deuine smelles of thy vertues, and whosoeuer seeth thee, may not see so much a woman, as ac­knowledge an excellent patterne of all vertue. Then when thou art such a one, there remaines (for thee) honourable and great rewardes of fame, honor, dignitie; all which are not laide a side for men, [Page 157] as for the more worthie, but are communicated with you as equall.

In the meane time, whatsoeuer may be giuen vnto thee, are aboundantly heapt vpō thee, those are those ensignes of honor, wherewith the auncient and pre­sent wisedome doth crowne thee. From hence a­riseth much reuerence of thee, then which no sex to sex, or humanitie to humanitie can perform a grea­ter and more honorable dignitie. I neede not re­member examples of the present time, because they proceede from those auncient; what is more knowne then those Romane laws, and lawes like the Romans? We know the Matrons were not to rise vp to the Magistrate, least they should chaunce to hurt them, or to vse them euill being with child; nor that their husbands going in Coaches with them should come downe: others not lesse then these, that men should giue way to weomen that they might weare eare­rings, and other differences of head-tires, that they may vse purple and golde cloathes, that they may bee carried through the streetes: all which things are giuen to women, either for a rewarde or a benefitte: as GOD himselfe teacheth in the 16, Chapter of Ezechiell. I clothed thee also with fine broydered worke, and shodd thee with badgers skinnes, and girded thee about with fine linnen, and couered thee with silke; I decked thee also with ornamens; and I put bracelettes vp­on thy hands: and a chaine vpon thy necke: and [Page 158] I put a frontlet vpon thy face, and eare-rings in thy eares, and a beautifull crowne vpon thy head: Thus weart thou decked with golde and siluer, and thy raiment was of fine linnen and silke: for these and greater then these, men bestow vpon women, argu­ments of their loue, and speciall affection, that it may be vnderstood, that no sexe is either better or worse then other, but modestly and louingly to agree betwixt themselues; nor that women is not the se­cond, but another ornament of humanitie: both must striue in this, which may be more worthie of reuerence, which loue one another better: There­fore (O women) represse thy vnsatisfied and ambi­tious desires, and as one furnisht with all excellent ornaments, at length learne to worshippe God, and acknowledge his benefites, lay aside all complaints, suppresse thy foolish speeches, put vppon thee a thankfull minde, if thou wilt needs complaine, com­plaine of thy selfe, that being betrothed (as it were) with so many benefites of God, yet thou withdrawest thy selfe as vnthankfull and vnmindefull of thy duty: remooue this infamie, blot out this staine, and place in steede thereof, an ingenious and thankefull minde liked of him, whom to please, is eternall happinesse.

I do not maruaile that a childe, and a woman, should be found vnthankefull; when men that are of ripe yeares are infected with this poyson, who is there that modestlie beareth the benefits be­stowed vpon him? who is there that vnderstandeth, what and how great that is which he hath receiued? who is there that by this meanes is brought to the knowledge of that deuine goodnes? Or rather doth [Page 160] not the greatnes and plentie of this bring a loathing, and from a loathing doe we not goe directly to a for­getfullnes, and from forgetfulnesse to contempt, and then hauing sayled thus farre, wee are dasht against the rocke of vnthankefulnesse: what canst thou al­most see here but a deformed and a disfigured shape of things? I see this man ouerloaden with his riches: that man with his followers, with his authoritie, with his power; another to abuse the gifts, the excel­lent gifts of his witte; another to growe insolent by reason of fauour; another to become intollerable with the fortunate course of honor, and the happie successe of his fauours, and how great any man is in these things, so much he swelleth, hopeth, dareth, and how much he wanteth of these, so much hee is dismayd, cast down, deprest, scarce any man acknow­ledgeth that his increase and grouth is from the de­uine shower, and heauenly deawe.

There is scarse any man who (in the midst of Gods benefits) doth not carefully vex himselfe, or desirou­sly inflame himselfe, or foolishly and idlely doth not blinde, and besotte himselfe? All of vs are carried which way blinde desire, or a cro­ked disposition, or vnthankefull minde leads vs, nay, we think it not sufficient to madd in this manner, but further we seek to warrant it with reason; & whilst we professe the study & desire of goodnes, we show how much ill & vnthankfulnes proceedeth from vs. And in the boasting of vertues, it is apparent with how [Page 161] many and how great vices, wee are compassed: Oh saith euery man I would to God I had beene borne in that golden world voyd of sins, & fruitfull in all ver­tues: Oh, what ioy it had bin to haue liued then, when mē willingly, & of their own accord imbrace honesty.

Whatsoeuer was good either in things, or time, it is vanisht long since, the dregs only and that which is left in the bottome, are reserued for these dayes: for it plainely appeareth:

We now loue our vices, no lesse then they did then reuerence their vertues: Now it is scarce lawfull for any man to be good: wickednesse possesseth all roomes: honesty is euerie where dispised, and vertue scornd, and the better any man is, the more basely & worse he is esteemed.

This showeth that there is nothing more cor­rupt then the manners of these times: yet with these are wee compelled to liue; wee that desire all thinges might bee well, and who (against our willes) are drawne to allowe those thinges [Page 162] which we dislike. From hence, from those auncient times proceede the precepts of wisedome, and pro­fitable examples, and from these dayes, these present corrupt manners, which differ farre from them: thus are we carried as it were with a streame or a whirle­winde. Oh that I might liue in some obscure cor­ner, and there passe my time, with such as are like my selfe, with our owne mannners, and at our own pleasure. Oh, what pietie then, how much holine [...] and honestie would I then show? How would I fol­lowe all other vertues? How should I wholly then bee inflamed to allowe those thinges which my tea­chers (when I was a child) did put into me, and which I red out of graue authors? Oh, happie antiquitie which knew the best things and followeth them. But in these dayes and in these places who can? If I be vn­like to other men what a sport & derision they make of it? How presently do all men say, what an incura­ble brayne hath he? For wisedome is nothing but to thinke as the most thinke. If I had beene borne in a free state, these things should not goe thus. I would wholly haue indeuoured my selfe to reforme publick manners; I would haue beene to all others a forcible extorter to these thinges, and as it becommeth a free and valiant man, being author of a free and a true opiniō, I feare not to find assistāce, thus, more of vs would apply our selues vnto it, & I doubt not, but we should bring to passe that the best thinges should preuaile: amongst free men, we would deale with [Page 163] liberty and expresse our mindes with free tearmes. For where a free state is, there is true vertue and inge­nious manners. But here where men are gouerned, some one or other prescribe conditions to al the rest: The multitude follow in heapes which way any goe before them, without choyce, without care of any goodnes, Without any difference or respect of true or false. Thus by degrees we become such (as wee when it is too late) wonder at our selues to see how we haue lost all freedome and ingenious simplicity. But although these thinges might in some sort bee borne with, yet, what way shall I say commeth it to passe, that as many countries as there bee, so many differences there are, not only of language, and man­ners, but of rites, and religions? So that a man may dispaire that in our time there shall euer be an agree­ment; For what cause of euil shall I say men are set thus at discord? In this difference there is no man that taketh not himselfe to bee very godly, There is no man that dooth not either pitty, deride, or hate any other that treadeth a course contrary to his owne; thou canst scarce goe out of dores, but thou shalt light vppon some one which shunneth thy speech and company as a thing most odious; why, thinkest thou? because thou followest those rites which hee abhorreth: For what thou accountest holy, that hee esteemeth prophane and wicked, Euery man thinketh what hee liste of GOD of his VVorshippe, of all things that belong [Page 164] vnto it. Euery man wandreth what way he pleaseth; scarce any man pittying him, warning him, or stay­ing him.

And this is the generall disposition of men at this day; what wilt thou choose? which way wilt thou goe? what part wilt thou take in these distracti­ons? some beeing violent, others being drowsie, all disagreeing: My wish is religious, but silent: and of no force. For where should I cast anchour in these stormes? which way should I goe to seeke the truth? which amongst all these is but one. I desire to haue all these cloudes disperst, and directly to goe to that deuine brightnesse, but I cannot doe it. I finde al waies so beset with darknes, thornes, and infinit lets. Therefore I must lye secret and speake low, and fold vp my hands and looke vp and expect what good, time will bring with it. In the meane time, I must represse my time which is no way fa­uoured; I must cherish my slouth and sluggishnes; and this is indeede to bee wise, and to know the time. Neither is it too safe to know what is to be followed as what is to bee eschewed. To conclude, in this my condition is the harder, that I vnderstand those things from which I am kept, and beeing borne to excellent things, yet I must follow the worst: Besids, I haue chosen that course of life, then which there could if not more honest, yet none be more vnplea­sant; or more vnprofitable. It is an excellent thing to be brought vp in learning, to be instructed in arts [Page 165] and sciences; to know the ciuill lawes, to be chosen amongst those that haue authority and iudges, to be euer cōuersant amongst the best. But none of al these can bee praised but with much exception: For if they bee compared with other courses of life, they make faire showes; but there is little substance in them. Who seeth not that all these courses of lear­ning are full of care, labour, and that a kinde of life a­riseth from hence, illiberally, vnpleasant, vnsecure? In one word, we are subiect to the authority of our superiours, and likewise to the speeches of the vulgar.

These will call thee a subtile and a crafty fellow, & one that what way soeuer thou goest wil deceiue; of the multitude thou are rather feared then re­uerenced or loued, these will take heede of thy cour­ses, these care not what thou thinkest. But how much thou canst and art able, so much onely they feare. I omitte that the times doe often fall out, wherein we liue dispised whilst gowns must, and doe suffer the disgrace and the wrongs of armes, what? in these tumultes we indure wronges of those, who in peace durst not come into our presence without blushing, feare, and danger, well it is much better to be one of the cōmon sort, then to suffer those indigni­ties, that are incident to this calling, neither am I ignorant that wee seeme happy in the eyes of many as they seeme to vs. I knovve no man is content with his lotte, this is the infelicitie of men. [Page 166] But what wouldest thou doe? VVee must beare our euill fortune and euery man his owne. VVell, all thinges considered, there is nothing more mi­serable, then this life, which either amongst thankefull or vnthankefull must bee spent.

IN the very entrance to this speech: I do obserue thee to bee a glorious boaster of thy vertue, and withall a disdainefull e­steemer of those things, which God hath wisely done; which things (thou beeing more wise and more prouident then God) desirest might bee o­therwise. Thus it is manifest how light thou art; how disdainefull and how proude; in one word, thou art vnthankfull, because those thinges are not builte vp­on any foundation of truth, which are the ground of these words, of these words which are nothing but [Page 168] wicked thoughts, forged complaints against God, for thou that speakest these thinges, wouldst seeme exceedingly honest and religious; and thy whole la­bour is in this, that thou maist rather seeme then be so. Neither art thou ashamed to sorrowe that thou wert borne in this age and not long since: and in some other place. Thus the common souldier spea­keth euill of the Centurion, the Centurion of the Tribune; the Tribune of the Lieftenant; or the Emperour; that he is placed in this station and not in that, as though it were in thy power to determine and dispose of thy selfe, and not in his, vnder whose subiection thou art; who notwithstanding dost not consider (being hindred with an inward blindnesse) how irreligious thou art, for thou canst not desire an other country, nor repent thee of thine owne estate, and condition, but thou must first loath and hate thy owne marke then from the beginning what assurance thou hast giuen of a preposterous and a­lienated minde.

I would to God thou couldst learne that all ver­tues of a Souldier consist onely in obedience. O­bedience is to dare to do nothing but at his command at whose cost thou fightest.

This is the lawe, the religion, the reuerence of of the oath; this is the whole ornament of military discipline; the strength and maiesty of the whole gouernment is built vpon this vertue; the souldier hauing put off obedience is hurtfull and rebellious, [Page 169] not to hee corrected with the rod of this Captaine, but to be beaten with his truncheon or put to death, as a staine and blemish to the whole army. Take thou heede that thou be not of this infamous marke, whilst thou complainest that thou wert not sent vnto thy standing, in the first, or second, but in the third or fourth watch, thou wishest (thou sayest) that thou hadst beene borne in that (which they call) the gol­den World barren of vice and fruitfull in all vertue: thus (as thou speakest) thou wishest thy selfe that thou hadst neuer been borne, because no monumēts of antiquity to be credited that euer I read in, taught what time there was such an age. Poets and such i­dle heades might deuise these things, faire in shewe, and pleasant to bee heard, and feine that vertue was taken out of sight that men might be lesse asha­med, and acquit themselues if they followed not those vertues, whereof this age is saide to be vnfruit­full: But for my own part (as I do remember) (when I haue runne ouer al that euer I either read or heard) I cannot determin the space of that excellent world, when it was, wherein vertues reigned not mingled with any vice, the Poet abuseth mens credulity, when he saith. The Latins

the same in other words

This I am sure of, that in man are ingrafted the seeds of vertue and vice; and that vices do their grow lux­uriously, where vertue is vntilled; and contrariwise, where vertue is seriously and painfully tilled, there vices are kept vnder, worne away, and extinguisht. Therefore all ages haue been laide open to vertue and vice; there was neuer any which brought not forth good men, neuer any that brought not forth badd; nay at all times and in all places there was euer greater plentie of euill, then of vertuous and good men. Let vs not idlely therefore please our eares, with false and emptie things; for those times which we call the old World, that is furthest remo­ued from this present, euen in those times the hatred of brethren extended vnto death; the father was driuen out of his kingdome by his sonne; the Gy­ants foolishly made warre with the gods.

To conclude, many other things were committed of those auntient and first men, which faine them­selues to be born of heauen & earth; by which it ap­peareth how far this opinion of the amiable simpli­city, and reuerend innocency of those times differeth [Page 171] from truth, for surely what prayses soeuer mortall things had, these were not proper to those or to these times, but to those or to these men; neither was there euer any time which in some fort euill men haue not staind, and which good men haue not honored. For the prayses & reproach of the times are from hence, that vertue or vice are more followed. For it delight­eth men eminent in vertue to liue so longe, as they may be either priuatly or publikely profitable. Ther­fore that time, wherein they chance to liue, they im­brace as that station appointed to them, wherin they must stand & watch, frō whence they must incoun­ter those enemies to this mortalitie; where likewise they must show their vertue, from whence they must neuer depart, vntill this battaile bee fought, and the victorie obtained; therefore the world is an indiffe­rent place, wherein all things are indifferent to him that placeth his strength in vertue, therefore thou dost ridiculously laye that fault vpon the time, which is thy owne: Awake thy selfe, whosoeuer thou art that outwardly art so fine and in showe so pure; straight way thou wilt bee ashamed of thy inwarde deformitie, Thou shalt see how that in thy manners, there is nothing pure and sincere; how all thinges are counterfeite, staine, and polluted, and withall thou shalt vnderstand, what a trister thou art, in that thou extollest with praise and admiration that aunci­ent sinceritie, and innocency, from which thou art far [...]e distant and it is no maruaile, seeing thou dost [Page 172] not labour to attaine vnto it: thinking it only vertue enough to professe it with thy tongue, and not to ex­presse it in thy manners, surely seeing there are not stronger motiues to vertue then examples, if wee might wish, wee ought rather to wish to bee borne late, then in these first times, and rather to looke at all those times that haue beene before vs, then to be looked at by those that come after: it is much safer to be taught by the examples of others, then to haue none whom thou mayst imitate and followe. Doubtlesse that learning is more true and certaine, which experience hath brought forth, and collected out of many examples: Doest thou admitte and al­lowe my counsell? Then take away all those cur­taines drawne before the truth, accuse not the world and the time, that is all men besides thy selfe, rather looke into the thing, and diligently examine thy own vices, and if thou obserue thy selfe through­ly, thou wilt confesse that thou art one of the multi­tude better then none of the rest, and perhaps (which is like) worse then a great number, and to say plain­ly thou that art so great a talker of vertue, that is so great a trifler, what hast thou yet furthered the com­mon good, whereby either the staines of this age may bee wiped out, or the prayse of it increast. I see thou art but a mans shadowe, one of a quicke tongue, but of a slowe minde, disputing many thinges, but doing nothing, for the common good; vnlesse peraduenture thou thinkest this same vnquiet [Page 173] and talkatiue idlenes, in which thou makest a showe of vertue, to be something. If all men thus should thinke it sufficient to commend the times past, and no way to further the aduancement of the present, should not the commendation of this age lye buried and forgotten? Thou sayst, thou art compeld to al­low things not to bee allowed. What wicked hu­mor doth thus possesse thee, that so foulely thou dis­semblest? that if thou seest any thinge to bee done otherwise then well, thou must needes bee a fur­therer of that, a cōmender of it either in deed, word, gesture, allowance consent or silence? Why doest thou not rather make known to the commonwealth, that there is so much honestie in thee, that no disho­nestie whatsoeuer can ouerthow it? It is not vertue that which will bend so soone, and yeeld to vice; or lurk neare it. Vertue it is either not at al, or whereso­euer it is, it is in a high place, if in those places where thou art there be none, showe thy own vertue: If there be any, striue that thy owne may bee more eminent and conspicious. To conclude, laying aside this same sluggish and vnprofitable wisedom, which thou professest, be a powerful exāple of true vertue; if not to many, to a few, to thy selfe alone, least that any man seeing thee exclayme: O smith thou forgest armes for one that is full of slouth: as those that were before, gaue much light vnto thee, so hold thou out some light of this diuinitie to those that come after. In this, neuer regarde what the vulgar sort either [Page 174] alloweth or disalloweth, but only what becommeth thy selfe; what any graue and wise man may worthe­ly thinke of thee. Imitate not publike and vsuall man­ners (no not the auncient in this respect only as they are auncient) but out of both choose that which is best, thus the age wherein thou liuest shall be to thee auncient, or if any thing can bee thought more holy and more pure, then those times that are more aun­cient, neuer stand vpon other men, other times, or countries.

So make accounte that wheresoeuer thou art, there vertue may make her seate. What place soeuer the Sunne looketh vpon, is fit for this Lady, Soueraine of things: who is so farre from being tyed vnto any place, that she chooseth out sometimes a hollow age eaten rocke as Lucretius calleth it, to bee her natiue Countrie: shee often preferreth cottages and lowe shelters before marble walles, and sumptuous buil­dinges, and corse garments before purple; whereso­euer vertueis, it is falsely termed to be a corner, it is a place eminent, and of much celebrity: and if thou hast giuen thy name to vertue, thinke not that thou canst lurke in an obscure corner. He can neuer be [...] hidde whom vertue bewrayeth: For wheresoeuer thou art, there vertue shall accompanie thee: Thou shalt giue honor and nobilitie to that place: there thou shalt liue in the eyes and the mouthes of all: neither doe I reproue thee that thou art a commen­der and an admirour of auncient honest sinceritie; [Page 175] this only I reprooue in thee, that thou art a com­menderonly, and not a follower, whereas by this meanes alone thou mayst gaine that commendation which thou expectest, which were a thinge much better, then thus as thou dost with auncient and glorious names, to couer thy owne staines, and with those euils whereof thou thy selfe art guiltie, to accuse and burthen the time (a thing most innocēt): thou wilt also be known how careful & circumspect thou art, whilst thou diligently takest heede, least men should follow thee with stones like one distra­cted, if thou shouldest be seene diuers from others: Indeed I require nothing lesse of thee then that thou shouldest be diuers from the multitude: But I re­quire that thou shouldest be better; not that thou shouldest be obserued in an vnvsuall habitte, and a singularitie of life, as a contemnor of others, but that in holinesse and vnaffected maners; thou shoul­dest exceede others.

Thus be as an auncient example to bee looked at; by this euerie man shall esteeme what and howe great thou art, by thee euerie man shall bee stirred vp to chastitie and innocency: and as it is a proud and intollerable thing so to deale, as though thou only, or aboue the rest wouldest bee accounted wise; so there is nothing so foolish, as that vnder­standing that exceedeth not the capacitie of the Common multitude; but doubtlesse, that wise­dome hath all the perfections of wisedome in it, [Page 176] which vnderstandeth & followeth nothing, but that which is right; whether they be allowed or disallow­ed of the common people. Furthermore not contēt to detract from those times, thou also complaynest that thou art borne in a monarchie vnder gouern­ment, as though any man hath libertie, or bon­dage from any other but from his owne minde: be thou thy owne, not a slaue of thy affecti­ons: stande firme amongst all the darkenesse of vice: moderate thy sences: take thy minde into thy owne power: then thou perfectly shalt see thy selfe in the bosome of libertie: though borne vnder the Persian seruitude. Besides, thou wouldest haue it knowne what a great man, thou wouldest haue bin, if thou haddest binne borne vnder a free state. I knowe there thou wouldest haue set vp a shoppe of vertue; thou wouldest haue corrected thinges that are amisse: that people should haue had thee an excellent reformer of manners: this indeede were credible; if in that place where thou art, thou hadst giuen any token of it: if thou hadest made cleane thy owne manners: if thou hadest excelled and gone before others in true and vertuous examples, not in a glorious speech, but thou (whilst thou ad­monishest others) differrest all to other times, and o­ther places, as though time and place had rule ouer vertue.

What? darest thou say, that thou wouldest pre­scribe [Page 177] manners to others, which hast either none thy selfe or vncertaine, vnordered or verie euill? Wilt thou showe the waye to others which know­est it not thy selfe? Doest thou thinke that thou art priuatly discharged, because thou promi­sest that thou wilt publikely doe it? But I am a­fraide that amongst thy familiars, with whome thou mayst do much, thou art scarse a powerfull example of vertue, if thy inwarde life do not first aunswere to these glorious admonitions: this (beleeue mee) is the most compendious waye of informinge thy owne manners to honestie, and reforming the vices of others.

Here, if thou beginnest, there from thee ver­tue shall bee deriued vnto thy neighbours; from thence into thy whole kingedome: and so into forraigne and straunge Countries. Why doest thou suffer a thinge so profitable, and of euerie good man so much wished and desired, and loo­ked for: so longe to bee expected and desired of thee? Goe no further, expect not any solitarie, or priuatte place, there were thou art, giue vnto thy selfe, giue vnto those, that are about thee, giue vnto all, an vndoubted experminent what thou wouldest doe if thou haddest beene borne there, where thou mightest haue had authoritie, and beene a great man, and had much power ouer the mindes of other, giue assurance, that if thou [Page 178] haddest place, nothing els were wanting to thee, it is in thy power to performe that: and what there, would bee authoritie, here shalbe example, and yet it is true that in good examples their is much autho­ritie.

Do not thinke that any place giueth libertie to manners. I do not see if thou weart one of the great states in a free Commonwealth, howe thou couldest more profitte thy Countrie then now, when thou art borne vnder gouernment: and in no great fauour, vnlesse peraduenture thou art of that opinion, that there is more vertue and generous honestie, ingrafted in those that are borne in a free state, then vnder a Prince like gouernement. If thou thinke thus, thou thinkest euill; and with all accoun­test nature to bee a stepmother, not a mother, nor indued with a kinde of motherly affection. For surely, Necessity inuented all formes of Common­wealthes; being inuented, Reason hath disposed thē; and Time and Experience hath confirmed them: there are places, where publike consent require lawes; other places, where they stande in neede of Kinges and soueraintie: and amongst these the excellencie of a King-like authoritie is no lesse glo­rious, then amongst those the sweetnes of libertie. Doubtles, to both there is no other thinge propoun­ded then publike security, which consisteth in this that euery man haue his owne, and that cheefly in all pla­ses there be a rule of aequalitie.

[Page 179] For the establishing of this security there is need e­uery way of much concord of the Citizens; to this cōcord, men that are willing are driuen by thēselues, and by a naturall instinct of goodnesse; those that are vnwilling are compeld by the lawes, and all the guarde and strength that lawes haue; he whom the condition of birth hath brought vnder a free state is a debter to his vertue, and a subiect to that. He that is borne vnder a King, it is fit for him vvhatsoeuer he hath, he imploy it to the obedience of his Prince; from both ariseth the commendation of a good Ci­tizen, to enquire which place is neerer and more open to vertue, it is rather a matter of curiosity then profit, and not for this purpose.

And all this I haue saide to this end that it may appeare, that in euery forme of a Common wealth, there is some one marke of vertue, whereunto men must runne in all courses. It is ready and easie to e­uery man, euery where to learne manners; If frō those that are vertuous, he shall be furnisht with vertuous qualities, if from the multitude, he shall be furnisht with manners variable, and impure. This also dooth much trouble thee, that thou saiest that in these dayes there is no where any certainety of reli­gion and holy worship, that wheresoeuer thou loo­kest, men go astray and er: nor that the waies & true paths of religion are so much opened as the entran­ces to all impiety. From hence all

[Page 180] Right and wrong are turnd, and warres do still increase And face of sinnes in many shapes.

For at this day there is nothing which is so fruitfull a ground of all publique calamities as this variety of religion. From hence are the ruines and falles of whole kingdomes; the workers and contriuers wher­of appeareth to bee a number of vncertaine, vncon­stant men, which swarme in all places, desirous not onely of nouelty, but of the ouerthrow of states; by whose disputations and subtilty, the truth long since hath been spoken, not perfected; For these do rend the common wealth in sunder with an itch of con­tention, and a desire of ouercomming without care of learning. With much impudency and slouth in their euill contentions of the greatest things; to whō as it plainely appeareth their most wicked fruite is, to speake great things of God, and yet neuer to reue­rence him nor to thinke there is any; much lesse to feare him as the iust punisher of such offences. From hence it commeth that they scarce forbeare from impyety, No not in those things which ought to be sacred and most solemne. For what else meane these contentions, from disputations, tumults; from tumults, warres growing from warres, one trouble and vprore from another. I doe not onely sorrow for these but mourne them. For I confesse in these kinds there haue more errours sprunge vp within this hundred yeeres then can bee cured either with Admonition, Authority, or Reason. But what are all [Page 181] these to thee? If thou hast learned in thy child-hood; if in thy youth thou hast beene nourished; if in thy mans estate those thinges were confirmed in thee, wherein thy safetie and the vertuous duties of thy life are contained? Can any stormes drawe thee to a contrarie course? Can the leuitie of others or their craft mingled with fury, be strong enough, to shake thy constancy and to trouble thy quiet re­solution? Nay, rather the more the vulgar with the inconstant motions of their mind and euery tempest floate vp and downe, the more show thou, that thou canst not be mooued. What? Doost thou turne a­bout at euery noise? Is it not a shame that in a mat­ter of such moment, strength and constancy should bee wanting in thee. Therefore stand and remaine immoueable:

Why doost thou desire to see how here euery man delighteth to doubt, to float, to perish? either thou art rightly entred into this true way & in good time, or from thy infancy thou art of no valewe? If this bee so, doe not I loose my labour, which do thus reason with thee? If otherwise, from whence is this inconstancie of thy disposition? VVhy doost thou not goe on as thou hast begunne? [Page 182] Those precepts of pyety that are ingrafted in thee, take heed that thou be not a forsaker of them. Do not so much as doubt. For whosoeuer so doubteth that he neuer compose and stay his wauering mind, he is wholly drawne in peeces, with variety of opinions. Surely such a one either erreth or is next vnto one that erreth, and thus erring, next vnto him that peri­sheth. Therefore with this foule inconstancy ouer­turne not thy bringing vp, Be not willing to bee e­steemed for thy idle wishe, but heape thy holy wishes with study and true Piety, which to man as the Poet speaketh is safest vertue. I say true piety, because I doe warne thee to take heede of the coun­terfeit pyety of these dayes, which professeth a soli­tary wandring knowledge of God, without any fruite at all, whilst it seeketh to know all things lawfull and vnlawfull of God, Open or secret, and with a sub­tile mouth skilfully argueth those things which their euill minds deride and scorne.

Thus farre are these sorts of men from worship­ing of God: sincerely & rightly ordering of humane duties, for it becommeth men neuer to be more mo­dest, then when they haue to deale with God; to be most holy, and most reuerent in those things that be­long to religon, rather to professe an humble simpli city of beleeuing, then to boast of a sharpenesse of piercing into his secrets, and knovving of his glo­ry.

In other things I commend thy confidence, but [Page 183] in this thy feare. Surely in the very entrāce of that sa­cred power & vnsearchable maiesty, there is a bright nesse and glory that opposeth it selfe against euery curious searcher, and blindeth both the eyes and the mind of him that pryeth with ouer much boldnesse, against this vsuall rashnesse at this day, or any such that is like vnto it, set lockes vpon thy eares; for it is not pyety but a counterfait impyety, which leadeth men into errors; to which that olde saying may bee truely spoken

Exact that true and seuere pyety of thy selfe, which is scarce found in conference and concourse of multi­tudes; seldome is cloathed in pretious garments, seldome walketh into the streets, scarce is seene in publique, but dwelleth in a true and honest brest and from thence is dispersed into his mouth and hands; thus beeing affected, thou shalt neuer bee drowned in the waues of false opinions; no tem­pest of errour shall cast thee downe;

From these thinges, which thou mislikest in the common wealth, thou commest to thy owne pri­uate [Page 184] condition, and art angry with that. Canst thou indure to heare the truth? Thou art full of disdaine, this maketh thee so nyce and froward; what wouldest thou say if thou wert sent into the Countrey, where thou must holde the plough and harden thy selfe with toyling labour; to get that thou mightest eate? VVhat if thou wert set to some handy-craft, where thou migh­test possesse no more then thou couldest earne with thy daily labour? VVhat if professing the life of a souldier, thou shouldest have thy body hurt and mained that thou couldest scarce mooue it? VVhat if thou shouldest enter anie course of life harder and more vnprofitable then these? VVhat monsters of words couldest thou then vtter? with how many complaintes wouldest thou fill the skies? with how many wicked speeches, wouldest thou then prouoke that deuine goodnesse? who be­ing so well dealt with all, yet darest complaine of God, who hath compased thee about with so many honest fauours. But as it seemes, thou art wise, thou art learned, thou art circumspect, yet for all this thou art not ashamed to sticke in those shallowes of ignorance, where euery vnskilfull man peri­sheth.

VVhy doost thou not rather vse that learned oa [...]e to saile ouer these daungerous places? from whence if thou doost not speedely escape, thou shalt bee like vnto one that hath suffered shipwracke. If [Page 185] thou professest thy selfe a lawyer, and an obseruer of equity, if thou wilt bee esteemed as the defence of the people and the Oracle of the Citty [...]ye (light and inconstant man that thou art) why hast thou not first before others supported and strengthened thy selfe with holesome Councell? If thou woul­dest at least consulte with thy selfe, and from thy selfe euill affected, appeale to thy selfe without perturbation or passion, thou wouldest bee in­different to thy Noble and excellent condition, and that which is the chiefe of all take in good part, what thou art; wipe away those staines familiar and vsually to this kinde of men; giue faithfull councell to him that asketh; cut off stryfes, abstaine from oppression and exhortation: If thou art a Iudge, Iudge religiovsly, and feare GOD the great Iudge, and then be assured thou shalt not bee subiect to the suspitions of the good nor to any euill speeches, vnlesse peraduenture of those that are most euill. Thus assure thy selfe thou shalt bee worship­ful to the best, to the meanest, to al, in al places thou shalt be esteemed honest, amongst men, and accep­table to God.

Besides if the Cōmon-wealth be troubled, if men betake themselues to their armour, then thou com­plainest that ciuill professions are dispised, that learning is contemned, and also that thou lyest open and vnhidden to the outrages and disorders of all men, as though thus euery honest and innocent [Page 186] disposition is not best seene in his aduersities: If thou art wicked, this is a scourge to beate thee: If thou art good think that a hand is reacht out to thee that thou bee not idle, or forgetfull, but watchfull, least thou catch a grieuous and a deadly fall. Well howsoeuer it is, consider whether thou haste not in the time of peace, abused thy skill and know­ledge to the hurte of men and not to defende them. Dooth not worthely (then which no­thing can bee more iust) thy owne example fall vpon thy owne head? These cogitations will driue out of thy minde all that vniust complaint which thou makest against God: Surely displea­sed with thy owne vices thou shouldest first se­uerely blame thy selfe before thou accusest anie o­ther.

Last of all, whosoeuer thou art learned or vnlear­ned, whether one of the states or a common person, whether thou art a leader, or an ordinary souldier, whether thou art rich or poore, of what sort soeuer thou art (for it were infinit to reckon vp all) there­fore I speake vnto all that euery man may take it spoken to himselfe. Thou that hast passed the flower of thy age; thou art he with whō my speech is at this time; if thou vsest not thy strength & health to some good purpose; if before the powers of thy body and mind faile thee, thou vse them not for the true defen­ces of thy soule, and doe not inrich thy selfe with true riches, thou in the olde age wilt in vaine desire [Page 187] those things wherein thou oughtest to be instructed. Now it were fitte to arme thy selfe with wisedome, and true valour: sad and loathsome olde age ouer­taketh men that are inconsiderat and vnprepard: In time to come thou wilt bee able to do nothing but trifles, the mind will wax olde in a decayed bodie. Thou shalt be vnfitte for any thing; and death at last vnawares shall ouertake thee, subiect to many scoffes and dangers, and in vaine looking about for helpe, which (whē thou mightest) thou didst not pro­uide vnto thy selfe. Therefore free thy selfe from these delayes, least thy sluggishnes bring thee into those daungers, from whence thou canst not deliuer thy selfe, without much perill. Repentance at the last yeares is late. Wee looke for meanes of life then late, when wee are in the last part of it; when our burdens are to be packt vp: nay, to bee layd aside. O lamentable condition of that man, who by his in­consideratnes is brought to that, which is the begin­ning of eternall miserie; and hee that commeth to that, I confesse his life so much the more hatefull in that it is ended most vnfortunatly. Thou whosoeuer thou art ascribe thy owne euill to thy selfe, who abu­sest thy owne good; thy life vnknowing is lent vn­to thee, not short but longe, and heaped with ma­ny, and great benefits of God; and thou man the vn­gratfullest of all men, spendest the same in error, and vanitie; thou consumest all thy time in frosen and foolish trifles. Dost thou suffer this so great a be­nefitte [Page 188] by thy negligence to passe from thee without profit, and art not ashamed to vpbraide God with the smalenes of the benefit, beleeue me, thou wholly dependest vpon a small threed: thou mayst immediat­ly be cast headlong down into a perpetuall [...] of misery: if thou dost not speedily lay hand vpon those meanes with which being supported, thou mayst at­taine to that felicitie, to which thou weart created, thou oughtest to contemne all other things, and to desire this one thing and not to desire it as one Ill, slouthfull, and weake, but as one strong diligent, & intent to to his greatest hap­pinesse.

C Considering the dispositions of men & vewing the corruptnes of them (as it lyeth open) as also their cunning (as they foolishly thinke) wherewith all mortali­tie seeketh to couer it selfe, that it may not as it is so appeare vnto God; to conclude, thinking with my selfe, howe many wayes euerie man delighteth to wronge that sacred power, which hee shoulde reuerence, maddinge against his wisedome [Page 190] and rising with complaints against that great power: I begin to tremble, I say a horror possesseth mee, when I take but a vewe of the sharpe of this fowle & deformed vice; I see nothing but a heape of vnthank­full persons, amongst whome most notable is hee whom it least becommeth.

The olde man; I am mooued at none more then at him, who ought to haue learned by that great benefit of longe age, howe hee only more then all other men of all ages, is not only loa­den with benefits, but almost opprest, whome the satiety of liuing ought to haue clensed from this drosse: whome the longe vse of the goodnes of God should haue brought to that aequitie of mind which is requisit for one, that is readie to leaue the earth; yet, I see him more froward and more afflicted with this humor of discontent, then any other. Thus the shaken age out-goeth the most part of mortall men, and hauing liued a long time, is not for all this, more skilfull in this iournie, nay, oftentimes is more vnprepared and more stained. In one worde, these seeme to haue gathered vp out of euerie corner, and carefully to haue heaped together the seuerall vice [...] of all ages, and to haue layd open the blemishes and spottes that are in all; and from all this to haue fra­med this monster, whose name is an vnthankefull minde. For hee doth not complaine of this, or that euill, as those whom I haue reckoned before, but of all things, as altogether. There is none so weak, none [Page 191] so shamlesly furnished to this offence, none thin­keth more impurely, none speaketh euill of GOD more proudly, none turneth his head more boldly against his maker; there is no where, where all the faces of this monster are discouered better, then here; which are as many as the corruptions that lye hidde in man, wherewith he with long liuing is most infected, which way soeuer this old man layth open himselfe, he is weake; forgetfull, arrogant, vnthankful; he sinneth not as others of ignorance, of folly, of in­firmitie; inwardly and outwardly he sinneth: hee, is wholly wicked, in word, in deede, in thought: to con­clude, what can you thinke of him, who for this dare not complaine that he is, and that his life is giuen vnto him. For what (sayth he) is my life giuen vnto this end that in my life there may be nothing which is worthie to be called a life? For what should I remē ­ber the miseries which I had frō my infancy, where of I cannot tell whether the sence or the memorie be more greeuous vnto mee, had I euer in all my life any honnie, but it was mixed with much gall? Had I euer any ioy that was not ended with sorrow? Any happinesse that was not recounted with some euill successe? Any hope whereto dispaire was not a com­panion? in one word, what is all that I haue spoken, that I haue done; that I haue hoped, that I haue got­ten, but the matter of sorrow, and repentance? To conclude, what shall I say, that I either am or haue beene, but a perpetuall motion? But a liuing crea­ture, [Page 192] layd open to euerie violence? My life was spent in learning of these miseries, & liuing long with these, I am hardened.

Oh how truely is it spoken, by a man of much experience, whose minde in the constancy of death confirmed many & verie wise precepts, none would accept of life if it were not giuen them without their knowledge: what is our Infancie but a dullnes & an vncertaine state, betwixt life and death? more truely the likenes of death or rather indeede a death begun and a funeral mixed to our swadling cloathes? What is our childish estate but the showe and the be­ginning of miserie, or rather a glasse wherein a man may see all the miseries which are to come? What our youth but a vading flower, growing to a better fruite? For then wee are greene that wee may nowe wyther, then we flowrish that we may now wax old; what is our lusty years sōething riper thē our youth, but a foolish fearcenes trouble-some to others and hurtfull to it selfe? What is our mans estate, but an authorised imperious madnes, Whilst, it is reasons ape? What is this last age, the wearines whereof I feele to bee layd vpon mee, but an ouerflowing of all paines, greefes, miseries? What is this which we call to liue, but a fearefull and a continuall ex­pectation [Page 193] of death? yet I know these thinges are hardly perswaded to yong men: I knowe that the mindes of most are holden in this common error, and bownd as it were fast with this chaine (which is a loue of life) as of that good which containeth all good things in it.

Surely let the childe see before him the merrie & pleasant flower of youth; youth the strong, couragi­ous and manly age: this also let it haue some cōfort left in the approaching old age: but then to this last what else is propounded but death? For man that is full of yeares as I am, what is hee but as they say a picture painted on the wall, or the name of a sha­dowe of that he was? And to conclude, the pray of death? VVhat further can hee doe or hope whose soule is euer going out of his mouth? What am I fitte for, who am vnmeete for the lightest cares? whose strength of bodie is weake? The age of abili­tie and power past? Sences dull, and the liue­lines of the minde weakened? In one worde, to whome all thinges with my bodie are withe­red?

Life then deserueth that name, when it bringeth to a man some ioye or pleasure: but if it bring no­thing with it which is not vnsweete, vnpleasant, bit­ter, if it be euer driuen against the rockes of all euill, away with this name of life, which is more glorious then true; I know not others, but for my selfe, I am sure, of all that euer I did heare, or see, there is [Page 194] nothing likes me; and as hope doth more and more freese in me, so all pleasure decayeth; whereof this worne and decayed bodie of mine is vncapable. I haue no healpe in my kindred, for all slippe from me by little and little, and sh [...]nne my companie, as an odious and troublesome old man; vnles peraduen­ture deceitfully they hange vpon me to be made the richer by my death: My frendes haue little hope in mee, to whome I seeme not a man but a ghost.

My familiaritie is pleasant to none; I walke as the hate of the earth; neither am I more almost estee­med of any then a thing worne and of no value, as many men, and many thinges doe not please mee, no more doe I please any. I am forbidden to meddle with any thing vnder a colour of honour; to which they giue the name rest, and ceasinge from labour, that with the mildnes of the name, they may mittigate the asperity of the thing, and the grief that I take from it. In my sayings there is no autho­rity, for all men say I am now past, and brought to a doting age; the very memory of my life past wher­in there was some pleasure, daily weareth away. [Page 195] Of one thing I haue more vnderstanding then euer I had, namely, of this miserable estate to which I am appointed, and as it were reserued; to this age, and to this experience rising out of these miseries I am beholding for this one thing, that it hath opened my eyes and laide before mee the whole army of those e­uilles wherewith this mortalitie is guarded, and can neither finde remedy nor meanes to escape them. Neither can learning (that deuine inuention as they call it) mitigate this griefe; I haue no comfort out of my learning how great soeuer it is; nay the more plentifull that is, the more plainely doe I see ra­ther what is not true then what is; yea, it rather brings mee into the large sadde fieldes of errour, and there placeth me, from whence I may see with a large prospect, ignorance that is of kindred to our mortalitie; So farre am I from beeing brought to any delightes or pleasures of knovv­ledge.

Last of all, there remaineth pyety, whereof I was euer a diligent worshipper, wherein I finde no refuge. If for all this being worne with yeares, my last houre must come, and that fatall necessity whereunto against my: will I must obey and follow, not whether it leades mee, but whether it draweth mee. For in that my heape of miseries giueth mee a minde to speake freely.

From hence am I grieuiously tormented in that I see my selfe brought vnto that peryod of life, [Page 196] which is set so fast that it cannot bee remooued. There is nothing that dooth more trouble my rest and quiet then the often thinking of the approach of death, which the more I labour to cast from me, the more and more violently it commeth to my minde, and this is that same inward and perpe­tuall corrasiue:

If I beginne to talke with any; If I doe any thing; If I walke; If I rise from sleepe; continually I am encountred with the euer present memory of my neare aproaching death, I haue euer (as that Romane king) those two gods present with mee (dread and palenesse).

Now at the last, the conscience of my former life, which is full of trouble, and a torment to me, gathereth his forces and doth shew it selfe. Some­times a little hope doth comfort mee, sometimes dispaire dooth trouble and afflict me. Now I float as it were betwixt life and eternall death: whether is nearer I cannot easily tell: so am I an old and de­cayed man deluded by both. Farewell all, let it goe, And that humane wisedome, which is meere madnes let it blinde and deceiue it selfe, let it be insolent in this same show of perswasion, for which it would be esteemed; let it delude it selfe in thinges accutely [Page 197] thought, eloquently spoken, in these famous monu­ments erected for posterity; I confesse there is none of all these that I delight in, this same space that I haue runne of so many yeares, so many experiments, so many precepts of things, so many well taught learnings, they all renew the same scarre of my mi­series that are not yet well cured. VVhatsoeuer the state is wherein I am, it is nothing els but a fit place to renew my euils. Amongst which I reckon this, that my minde doth wauer: I know nothing but that I am ignorant of all things: Shall I speake it or holde my peace. To a traueller it is a hope, and an ease to thinke of the place wherevnto he goeth, I, why I am, or what shall become of mee, whether I shall goe, what is all this wherein I am, but as a droppe in the sea, or a stone vpon the shore, or a sparke in the fire? I am more vncertaine then euer I was, happy is he that thinketh hee knoweth this. Doubtlesse, at least hee inioyeth a sweete error, and perisheth pleasingly. Let humane curiositie arro­gate vnto himselfe, applaude himselfe, giue vnto himselfe this honour, that hee may thinke that hee hath obtained the knowledge of that which is deni­ed to mortality. I doe not thinke that it is true, that hee that knoweth not those things, which are before his eyes, can reach to the knowledge of those things which are hidden in the bottomelesse greatnesse of time, and the Maiesty of nature.

[Page 198] For if anie man doe consider rightly, he shall well vnderstand that our knowledge is nothing else but to bee ignorant, to erre, to bee deceiued. To what end should I dissemble this, what should I wretch that I am flatter my selfe;

DOubtlesse it is true, that that disease is hardly cured, which imitateth health; for because it is manifold, it can scarce beknown; because it is firmely rooted, it cannot be pulled out; because it is re­bellious, it can neither bee ruled nor put to silence. Of this kinde (O olde man) I feare me is thy disease; who inso long a life hast learned nothing but to play the foole; For there is nothing more foolish then he, who will be wise aboue that he is commanded; [Page 200] and more then is fit for one who is about to dye. But thou if thou louest thy selfe, suffer a few things, truly and simply, to be spoken to thee; It belongeth chiefly vnto thee, that thou be awaked with this my admonition; howsoeuer it is: Let mee leade thee a long not through all the benefits of God (which thou corruptly doost interpret, for that were infi­nit) but through the best and cheefest. For amongst all the complaints of men whereby they show how they are infected, with this fault of vnthankefulnesse towards God; there is none more delicate, there is none worse, and more wicked, then that which is in thy minde, and in thy mouth. This most is from hence, that thou darest obiect thy reason; reason, that is the bounds betwixt God and man, the onely light of the minde increased and confirmed with vse of things, that thou darest (I say) oppose and obiect this reason against that deuine prouidence; and after the manner of the Gyants with a bolde attempt, prouoke thy Creator to a single combate.

Neither dost thou consider that thou art most friendly, and as it were by the hand, ledde euen to that place where is the end of this Iourney (thorny and full of brambles) which wee call life; who in this chiefely repinest that it is giuen vnto thee. To witte, the first in order, and in his bounds containing the rest of Gods benefits. Heere thou art to con­sider first of all how thou art not agreeable to [Page 201] thy selfe, who complainest that thy life is giuen thee, the which impatiently thou lamentest to bee taken from thee. Thou repinest that thou liuest, that thou must dye, that thou art borne, to waxe olde; that thou art in this state, that either perpetually (as thou saist) thou must not bee at all, or perpetually be miserable.

From hence thou gatherest, that it had beene better for thee, not to haue been at all, then in that thou art, to knowe so much that thou maist vnder­stand how much vnhappinesse it is, not to bee after thou hast beene. Thou fearest death not as the last destruction, calamity and extinguishing, but perad­uenture as the beginning of some new, and vnknown euill; To conclude, so frowardly, so staggeringly, so prophanely, thou thinkest of the greatest thing of all, that is of thy owne saluation, that when thou art dead to thinke of thy selfe thou thinkest it belongeth not to thee. Oh how am I afraide least.

First let me deale with thee by way of excursion & skirmishing, then nearer, not a far off with the speare, but at hand with the sword; last of all more strongly and with all my force: Thou saist thou wouldest not haue had life giuen vnto thee.

Now in the beginning, and in one word thou [Page 202] showest that thou knowest not what life is. For if thou didst know it, doubtlesse thou wouldest more considerately esteeme the greatnesse of this benefit. Doost thou (who art so olde) not vnderstand that life is the beeing of man, and the seat of all those bene­fits which that deuine goodnesse bestoweth vppon mankinde? Surely, there is the same reason of eue­ry thing that is dead, as of that which is not; for that onely is saide to bee which liueth in that manner as the giuer of life hath prescribed vnto it; therefore by the helpe of this only benefit, thou art all that thou art: And when God hath giuen thee life, he hath giuen thee wholly as a guifte vnto thy selfe. Thou art his debter for thy whole selfe, which gifte by so much is greater, and more to bee esteemed, in that hee gaue it, who was not bound vnto thee, which then wert not at all. Surely it is such a benefit as thou wouldest wish it to bee; that is (if it be not long of thy selfe) very great. From so great a giuer there can come nothing but what is great; especially this, which being takē away, al the other gifts of God are not only voide and frustrate, but none at all. For that thou art, it is the first of all those steps, whereby thou ascendest into the likenes of him who truely is. For surely there is nothing so vnlike vnto God, as not to be at all. But doubtlesse it is a small thing for thee to be (for that is common to thee with the rest of the creatures) vnlesse thou bee that which thou oughtest to be.

[Page 203] Therefore this thy being, thy life (I say) which God hath giuen thee, must be imployed vpon some thing, espicially vpon that without which i [...] deserueth not to be called by the name of life. Thou saist, up­on what? Vpon that one thing which may giue assurance; that thou art obedient, and thankefull to him that gaue it: and that thou who art taken out of that immortall and deuine essence, and desirestro re­turne thither, from whence at the first thou b [...]st thy being. This is of two kindes either placed in Con­templacion or in Action: Contemplation respec­teth God, to whom we must goe. Action respec­teth men, amongst whome we [...], and with whom we goe thither, that is called pietie, this du [...]e both conspire in one, and the selfe same end is propounded to both; and both are so acceptable to God that he wil not be approacht vnto by any other way. What­soeuer belongeth not to this (that is all other occasi­ons where with men are drawne aside) are nothing else but lette [...] and delayes. If thou hast bestowed the time which is past (which thou thy selfe confes­sest to haue beene longe) vpon both, or at least vpon one of these, now thou suruiuest thy glorie, no [...]e thou beginnest to inioy that felicitie, whereunto thou hast trauailde with so great and so earnest a studie: If to neither, thy age ought to make thee ashamed, that in all that time thou hast at [...]ained [...]o nothinge; whereby thou mayst be much merrie [...], and more firmely grounded.

[Page 204] For how dost thou show that thou art olde; by thy yeares and white haire? But these are common to thee with euerie vnhappie and vnwise man. There is nothing swifter nor more violent, then the course of time. One yeare goeth before another; & ages spe­dely do passe away. There is nothing sooner heaped together, then the number of dayes, monthes, and yeares.

Therefore there must be something more, wher­by thou mayst proue thy selfe to be olde, and from thence obtaine the authoritie and reuerence, which is due to olde age.

Surely as the first age of man is, such commonly is the middest, and such is the last. The middle age doth agree with the first, and the last with the middle.

For commonly what foundation of olde age is layd in our childehoode; and our youth; such is euery mans olde age, that is built vpon it. For to be olde, is not to liue without sence, and to growe sluggish with Idlenes, but in liuing to bee formed to that like­nesse of God, which I mentioned before. From hence is gained the honor, authoritie, and Maiestie of a man: These and no other are the cheefe ornaments of old age.

There is nothing left vnto an olde man which he may call his owne, but only this one thing, which he obtaineth by spending of his life purely, religiou­sly, fitly.

[Page 205] These are the richest, and the best fruites which a man last tasteth, in the last part of his life well spent. Con [...]rariwise an olde age, credulous, foolish, for­getfull, dissolute; to conclude, sad, dispised and vex­ed, must needes follow a former age spent carelesly, riotously, lasciuiously, intemperatly, couetously, and wickedly. Thē surely it is not so much a name of age, as a showe of extreame leuitie, doating madnesse, and the beginning, and tast of eternall miserie: who­soeuer desireth to haue this age furnisht with his owne vertues, and to bee eminent in these orna­ments; doth so frame his life, that he feareth God, and reuerenceth man; doth so compose himselfe wholly, that when he must growe olde, or die, men may accuse fewe things in his life, and he can excuse himselfe.

If thou hast liued thus, though thy body goe away with thy years, yet thy manners shall not wax old. Surely the minde shall be young with his ver­tues, and flourish with true praise.

Thy age shall be sweete vnto thee, pleasant, ho­norable, and contemptible to none, that truely estee­meth of this benefit, but verie full of worship: but this thou takest greeuously, that vnder showe of honour (as thou sayest) thou art exempted from businesse: that, which when thou sayst, thou vnderstandest [Page 206] not, that this whereof thou complainest, is a bene­fitte of that age not to be contemned. What can be more wisht for of an old man, then after so many stormes and tempests of this life, to enter into a safe hauen of rest? to giue himselfe to quietnesse and to decke and furnish himsefe? to prepare himselfe to that iourney, which as all men must vndertake, so it is to bee wisht that it may bee fortunate and happi [...] to him? to see others floating, and himselfe almost at the shore of safetie? There to thinke of nothing which is not acceptable and pleasant: to waxe olde in bodie and stronge in wisedome: yet to flourish in a sounde Iudgement and to be eminent in all vertues: to ab­staine from humane affaires, and to be busied in de­uine: to be amongst men, more then a man, or ra­ther to haue put of man, and to haue put on God: these are the proper and particular happinesse of an age quiet, calme, wise, & purified; which as it ought to be slowe to take paines in his owne affaires: So this wisedome and authoritie are necessarie for the pub­like good, for although all things quiet and without trouble, are seemely and conuenient for that age, yet in the minde of old men, there resteth a care of the publike Maiesty.

Therefore none lesse are exempted from the go­uernment of the common-wealth: nay, that age doth challenge as proper and peculiar vnto it selfe this care of gouerning of others: For verie often those times do happen, wherein olde men with their [Page 207] wisedome, and vertue haue established and streng­thened the common wealth, which the rashnesse of young men hath almost ouerthrowne, For they thinke (indeede truely) that it doth no lesse belonge vnto them to take care what manner of Common­wealth they haue receiued from their auncestors, then what they haue left vnto their posterities; the names and memorie of some olde men shall bee re­ceiued of all posteritie as a thing (I know not how) verie honorable, sacred, and deuine. Camellus was foure score yeare olde, when hee tryumphed ouer the Gaulles, and Quintus Fabius was not much lesse, when with his patience he weakened Hanniball. Nei­ther was the minde of Massinissa feeble when he was eightie and eight years old, at what time befriending the Romans he gaue an ouerthrow in a prosperous battaile to the men of Carthage; Plato (that same piller of wisedome) in writing attained to the age of fourescore & one yeares; Isocrates wanted not schol­lers, no not whē he had liued ninety & eight yeares; but what doe I goe about the examples of such? olde men (as are of numbersome and vertuous yeares) are infinit. Whose wites haue beene fresh, their mindes sound, the strength of their sences perfect, their bo­dies able, themselues honorable, and their graye hayres crowned with many ornamentes; and their whole bodies carrying a reuerent showe to increase a dignitie and a maiestie in them. To conclude, such as from whome age hath taken nothing but euill [Page 208] desires; delightes of sinning and the abuse of strength and sence, whose giftes of their minde grow and increase: whome vertue hath set for all ages to looke at, as certaine lightes, or rather sacred powers.

Therefore, when the lawes gaue rest to those, which were aboue threescore yeares olde, they ex­empted them from those actions, which could not bee sustayned, but with bodily strength: they im­posed vpon them, that care which is performed only with the strength of wisedome, for which scarse any other man is sufficient, but only hee who hath his immortalitie almost in his sight. For what­soeuer a man (so pure, so refinde) speaketh or doth, he is conuersant in it, as one alreadie receiued into those heauenly seates, the power of iudgement is not only not dulled in him, but rather sharpened: hee ceaseth with his hand, not with his counsell; hee seldome doth any thing, but euer commandeth. Therefore hee erreth, and greatly erreth, whosoe­uer thinketh that olde age is a name of a fainte, sluggish, broken, slouthfull, and a weakened age, and so that it is exempted from all publike offices, when indeed it is rather most busie of all: most generous, most glorious: as a most excellent worker of those things, which longe, which publikely, and to all, and which shall profit an infinit posteritie. For thou shalt see that the rest of olde men not onely prescribes what ought to be the businesses of others: but also [Page 209] goeth before others, both in quickenesse of minde, and in valiant and famous acts, as the Captaines and leaders of publike Counsell. These properly are the exercises of that happie maturitie: in these courses, cheefe valiant and couragious olde men excell: in these they delighte, and in these the mind that is nea­rest vnto his eternitie, doth runne swifly: goe to then, at length giue this thankes vnto God, who hath brought thee to this olde age, giue this thanks to olde age it selfe: which hath freede thee from those euill affections; taken thee out of that sinke of pleasures: deliuered thee frō so many toyes, so vaine and importunat: and hath reserued thee to his owne glorie, that thou mayst will and do that only, which only thou oughtest to wil, which to be able to doe is honorable, and to performe, admirable: other ages must goe through many difficulties: watch amidst things hurtfull, and with a doubtfull hazard stande amongst things that are most slipperie: this age on­ly hath power ouer it selfe: that which either ages desire to obtaine, this hath gotten: to this age only are almost all the wishes of humanitie appli­ed, this alone standeth in the highest place: and doest thou sorrow that so profitably and so com­mendably thou art growne olde, that is that thou hast acted thy age as a commedy.

Doest thou take it euill that thou drawest neare to that which is the last part of thy life? [Page 210] so may the traueller be sorrie that hee is come to his iourneyes ende; and the husbandman to see his fields cloathed with ripe Corne, and his trees loaden with ripe fruite: or lastly his vintage to be in Autum, or the time for Oliues in Winter. I demaund what can be more agreeable to nature, then that that which only spronge vp should whither? that is, that it should rest in his due season, when it can bee no longer. Though death in other ages of mans life may seeme vntimely and vnripe, yet in olde age it is seaso­nable.

Neither is it violence, but an ende and a perfecti­on, and finishing of our age: therefore to moderate olde men, there is a sacietie of this mortalitie (which wee call life) no lesse ingrafted in them then in yong men a desire to liue; and this satietie doth draw with it a contempt of all those things, which belonge not to the true, and sound felicitie of man, what a man would that happie people the Hyperborians haue ac­counted thee to be, where the old men hauing a full satieti [...] of life after they had feasted and banquetted with their frends cast themselues from the toppe of a rocke and so ended their dayes. Thou that hast liued so longe, hast thou not founde by good experi­ence, that death is not to bee reckoned amongst those things that are fearefull, but rather amongest those things that are to bee contemned? yea to bee desired; For what is it to dye? Surely, nothing else but to be releast out of this earthly building. O hap­pie [Page 211] thou (not as those whom the world admireth for riches and honor) but as one whome the wisest ac­count fortunate; as now hauing attained to the verie enterance of thy happines. Oh laie aside at length these most foolish complaints and compose thy selfe wholly to esteeme thy felicitie; admire the goodnes of God, who hath brought thee to him selfe by these steppes.

NOw at the length, after thou hast well looked about thee, and seene all those thinges, where­with mans life is compased, doth it come into thy minde a little more neerely & carefully to sur­uay thy selfe? VVholly from those thinges which are about thee to enter into thy selfe? to bee affected and amazed? and then to fall low vpon thy knees; to humble thy lookes, to bee [Page 213] holden carefully with a diligent meditation, to bee erected in thy minde, wholly to rise vp in a reuerēce and worship of that bounty, from which thou hast receiued so many, so great, so excellent thinges? of all which thou art a very famous example. This properly is piety; whereof lately thou madest thy selfe a professour; which if it were true and sincere, it might well bee assaulted, but it could not bee ouer­throwne; nor cast downe: by that thou shouldest bee taught that thou art hee whom God (though he be inuisible) hath vouchsafed part of himselfe; nei­ther doe I thinke that hee erreth, which calleth thee halfe a God; in that thou art made according to his similitude, and admitted into the fellowship of his diuinity. For as thy beginning and originall is from Heauen, so immortality is common to thee with thy Creator. A mind truly sincere and vertuous hopeth this; this is the confidence of those great and holy wishes; whereof beeing made partakers, we are in­grafted into the family of God and are of his house. Man hauing obtained this one thing, in this excel­leth all other creatures, and destitute of this, hee is beneath them all. If it be an errour and a madnesse (as some thinke) it is to those who are wicked, and desperate, who from hence are to goe into eternall darkenesse. But to those that are honest, and reli­gious, this immortality is their sure hope, this the comfort of their hope, this their onely de­fence. Therefore they wishe nothing more [Page 204] then that being taken speedely out of these troubles, out of the multitude, out of this filth, and darke­nesse, and being brought into those holy dwellings, they may enioy that euerlasting life, purely cleare, and perfectly bright; to which is added a sound rest and perpetuall security.

To conclude: that inaccessable, and vnexpugna-' ble possession of that great good, with whose vnsha­ken confidence, they haue assuredly defended their hearts in this life. The man that constantly endea­uoureth to this, layeth vnder his feet all those things which either doe not leade hither, or leade from hence. All this sinke of other things, hee leaueth to those that are euill, and to wits that are in admirati­on with base and vile things; Of this kinde, are ri­ches, pleasures (the nourishments of ambition) that which dazeleth euery ignorant eye, inlargeth their desires and woundeth the mind. He knoweth that with these things he is neither beautified nor in­riched, but holden backe and hindred. He knoweth that with these things he is deluded and led into er­rour, and deceipt. He knoweth that of these things, there is not onely a satiety but a hatred, at the onely mention of this perpetuall felicity, he is awaked; this onely holdeth him, hath him, possesseth him; he delighteth to heare, and speake of this; this hee often repeateth, and imprinteth in himselfe; all this time he bestoweth in the meditation of this; in this he doth diligently labour, heere he doth more [Page 215] satisfie himselfe: and what maruaile? For where els almost doth he meet with himselfe, heere he seeth his beginnings, and his nobility; from hence he e­steemeth himselfe; and would haue himselfe estee­med; from hence he beginneth to bee nourished with an etheriall and deuine breath, now he begin­neth to liue with his glory, which is to come, and last of all (as novv already receiued into those hye and Heauenly places) hee returneth in his height and perfection, and becommeth an admirer and worshipper of his owne diuinity.

I beseech thee, why doost thou oppose against this wholesome and sauing light those mournefull and sadde darkenesses of impyety? VVhy doost thou with this daungerous accutenesse of witte foo­lishly faine vnto thy selfe, and falsely obiect those thinges which are not, rather then truly and faith­fully bee instructed in those things that are? VVhy doost thou not free thy selfe out of this torment? VVhy doe these thinges swimme in thy minde, which if they bee not certaine, sound, and stable, thou shalt bee drowned in the waues of Impyety? VVhat doost thou more trouble, teare, and consume thy selfe (wretch that thou art)? VVilt thou neuer pull vppe couragiously these too much growne branches of Impyety? VVhy doost thou delay to plucke out these doubts out of thy minde? Doost thou delight to bee miserable and to sollicit [Page 216] and trouble thy olde age with this blinde and vnfor­tunate vnderstanding? why hadst thou rather dan­gerously floate then staye in a sure place of sayle with wind and oares ouer those rockes? And striue for that quiet and calme harbour, where thou thy selfe wholly maist bee quiet? where thou maist without all doubt bee receiued into that wished ha­uen? Out of which whosoeuer is long, must needes suffer shipwracke.

Thinke that thy life was giuen thee for this medi­tation; without this (as thou sayest it is not life but death; whosoeuer is not assured of the goodnesse of GOD toward him, of his Immortality, of e­ternall and euerlasting felicitie, hee is past remedy. If thou art such a one, why do I talke to thee? Why doe I striue with a shadowe? VVhy doost thou lend thy eares to those thinges, whose minde is a de­rider and contemner of them? But consider how frendly I will deale with thee; how I haue not cast away all care of thy saluation; how much I doe giue vnto thee; whatsoeuer I haue before spoken of the dignity of Man I knowe that thou dost beleeue it.

VVhatsoeuer thou hast heard concerning that; whatsoeuer more subtelly, more lear­nedly, more largely, may bee spoken of it, deliuered by the auntient or late VVriters, what more truely and more fruitefully Christian [Page 217] pyety doth promise, all that (howsoeuer thou see­kest to auoid it) I will haue thee grant it as most cer­taine and most knowne.

VVith these and such like, I knowe thou hast fully beene instructed. These once thou hast let sinke into thy brest; of these thinges once thou hast thought religiously; namely when thy minde was purer and not stained with so much frowardnesse. In one vvorde, I know thou knowest these thinges: How shall I conuince thee? Namely, if I drawe thee into the lawe; thou sayest before what Iudge? Before that which thou little (esteeming, how truly and sharpely it confuteth all errour and euery false and truthelesse speaker) calledst the Consci­ence.

Thither doe I call thee; that thou maist not goe farre from thy selfe. Dooth not thy conscience tell thee that the presages & diuinations, not of a drunk­sicke minde, but of a certaine inward instinct, that those predictions the inward and proper motions of the soule show the deuinity and immortality of it? I say inwarde and propper, because the chie­fest beginning of those motions is in it selfe a­lone.

And therefore all things must first perish before it forsake it selfe, and cease to mooue, it selfe be­ing immortall: that which is immortall and being of a simple & vncompounded substance cannot be [Page 218] deuided; and if it bee not deuided, it cannot dye; For deuision is the death of that which is deui­ded. Death is nothing else, but the deuision and dissolution of one particular into two or many; not content with these, thy conscience proceedeth and sayth, That the minde is the glasse of the soule, the seate of councell, and the gouernment of life.

From hence proceede those gifts of the soule, which testifie the deuinity of it; as quicknesse, prouidence, prudence, and wisedome. Vpon these attend memory, vnderstanding, knowledge, and all the rest of the faculties, that area kinne to these, and vnseparable from them. To these wee may ad those, which from the euerlastingnesse of it are deriued into the affections; from the affec­tions to the sences; In this ranke first is the swift­nesse of our thoughts; Next our desires, ioyes, hopes, feares. From hence it certainely appeareth that the better part of man, is the reasonable soule, & the praises that man hath, belong not to the bo­dy, but to the soule. Likewise that dispraise, and Infa­my are not so much of the body as of the soule cor­rupted, & a runnaway frō his own nobility to those tents of euill affections.

It is most absurde to thinke that the soule which euer thinketh of his posterite, and is so carefull of the long continuance of the memory of it selfe should dye together with the body. Nay, rather it [Page 219] is carefull what, and how great it may be, in the opi­ons of men after it is freed from the body; as though then it thought it had gotten life, when the bodie had liued many yeares: For there is nothing can be spoken so falsely, so foolishly, so lyingly, and so im­pudently; as that the body (a thing earthly) should giue life to the soule, a thing heauenly and deuine, which of necessitie must be graunted: if the soule liueth no longer then whilst it is in this vessell of flesh, and that it dieth as soone as it is let loose from thence.

But there is nothing which either is or can bee more certaine, then the mortalitie of the bodie, be­cause it consisteth of those things which haue their motion from others, namely things vncertaine, fa­ding, inconstant, waxing olde, withering, perishing, and readie to perish, whereupon it is that there is no­thing in the bodie, which can be said to bee liuely. For to liue is to be mooued of it selfe: but the body hath his motions, and agitations from the soule: wherfore this, whether it be called mortalitie, or fini­shing of life, or extinguishing, seeing it is a sending out, and a freeing of the soule, it is not only not euill, but the beginning of good, and of that good which a-lone is the cheefe, and perfect, and eternall good.

By which things, that may bee gathered which I sayd before, that the dissolution of the bodie which we call death, is not only not to be feared, but (I had [Page 220] almost sayd) to be desired; doubtles meerly, con­stantly, readily to be desired. For this is that by which alone there is a passage made for the soules of good men, to a true life, his owne, and euerlasting: the same ende of life expecteth all; but the effect that followeth of it, is distinguisht: For some dye once, that they may dye eternally; others, that they may liue for euer.

Now, thou seest how foolishly this bodily mor­talitie is either feared, or lamented: after which immediatly followeth that heauenly immortalitie. These and farre greater then these, and by many degrees much stronger, which neither the weakenes of my minde, nor the slendernesse of my witte can attaine, nor my selfe expresse, which it is fitte should be taken out of the writinges of holy men, thou canst not deny but they are confirmed by thy owne conscience; the sence whereof (although thy body bee olde) cannot bee dulled. For the conscience is the beame of Cods eye, sent to euery man into the secret of his breast, and the most inwarde part of his heart, this euerie man beareth about him; this no man can auoyde, no more then himselfe: It is fixed in his heart rootes; It is giuen vnto man, as an arbitrator, and ouerlooker. It can neuer be shund, neuer extinguished, neuer deceiued. Why, thin­kest thou? because it is that deuine force, which is present in all thy thoughts, actions, vertues, vices; to those a fauourer and a commender, to these euer [Page 221] present though as a secret, yet as most seuere ac­cuser.

This thou mayst vndestand to bee not one of the least arguments of Diuinitie. Therefore (O thou olde man) if thou leanest that way, thy soule is; if that way thou standest firme; thou wilt also be more equall and indifferent, to that which thou callest death, and wise men call the ende of miserie? Thou wilt (to conclud) so perswade thy selfe, that when thou shalt be sent from hence, thou shalt bee receiued there: so that thou goest that way, where thou shalt be knowen as a Citizen, and a heauenly inhabitant.

From hence also thou mayst vnderstand that mortall things doe little pertaine vnto thee seeing all the vse of them belongeth to thy body: The body ser­ueth the mind; which vseth these no further thē is fit to keepe her dwelling vndesolued, vntill she be com­manded to forsake it; For surely this which wee call life, is nothing els, but the way of the trauelling soule that goeth to his own Country. And all these which incounter him in this life, are but as prouisiō for this great iourney, and foode to nourish the body, whilst it is the chariot of the soule. But to couet these things too vehemently; to stay gazing and admiring these thinges by the way and so to forget that place wher­vnto we goe, it is not the work of the soule, but of the body not of a man, but of a beast, for it is certain that man in respect of his soule, is a God, & in respect of [Page 222] his bodie is a wilde beast. And therefore the longer the soule dwelleth in the bodie, his worke is so much the harder. And his praise the greater, if it suffer not it selfe to bee infected with the contagion of it. Yet I do not say that any man vncommanded must goe out of his standing, but when he hath leaue and is called for.

And when he is cited and sent for to appeare, then if hee be slowe, then if hee bee vnwilling to goe, if hee complaine, if hee striue against it, if hee suffer himselfe to bee drawne, surely hee is ignorant of himselfe, what hee is and of his owne good.

What? Hee betrayeth himselfe by his owne ill confession, hee maketh fetters to tye himselfe, and for euer hee is excluded from that felicitie, without which a man is nothing but a receptacle of miseries.

Now see what is thy iudgement of thy selfe, who so much fearest death: thou canst not plainely show that there is more earthly matter in thee, that is claye, filth, impuritie, then there is man: that is then soule, then celestiall substance. The soule in the bodie is as a stranger in an Inne: it is the part of an inconsiderat and vnwise man to goe vnwillingly out of his Inne, in respect of some obiect of the throat or the belly: To conclude, it is the point of an vnskilfull man, and of one that thinkes little of his owne safetie, with the behoulding of earthly [Page 223] things to forgoe heauenly: seeing then that in death there is so much good, doest thou blame thy olde age which hath brought thee to so great a good.

Why doest thou not rather lay aside this voluntary blindnes, and this so carefull a frowardnes, & looke at the light? why dost thou not acknowledg this same excellent gift, or rather seruice of this old age, which bringeth thee so neare so excellent a good? Oh sticke no longer in these sands, pull out thy selfe as speedely as thou canst; shake of these lettes, breake in sunder these hinderances: call the assistance of thy ancient and former minde: stirre vp thy learning: bend the force of thy witte, call vpon the holy spirit, bee car­ried aboue thy sences, awake thy selfe, to giue God heartie and immortall thankes: esteeme his so many benefits in thy mind; expresse them all in thy words, in thy countenance, in thy gesture, in imitation, in example, then thou shall learne by little and little, that thou oughtest seriously to reioyce, that the time of thy human mortality is come to an end: that the time of thy earthly aboad is expired; that the ende of thy sinning is at hande, that mortall hopes are cut of, and that heauenly hopes are augmented, and increased: surely when thou cammest from thy childhoode to bee a youth, thou begannest to scorne all those things which did please thy childhoode: then being a man I thinke thy wishes were much wiser then in thy youth: to conclude, in thy olde [Page 224] age, thou seest all the desires of the former ages to be quenched, as hotte burning yron in cold water, what doest thou learne from hence? Doubtles that there is nothing of such value, in any part of this life, wherewith thou oughtest so to bee delighted, that thou shouldest wish to tarrie in it; but that there is an other life, which who so entereth truely may say

For there shalt thou be a possesser of thy selfe in securitie; there shalt thou be an euerlasting foun­taine of thy owne good: to thee, vnto thy selfe, there shall be from thy selfe, an ouerflowing greatnes of ioy (yet whereof thou art capable) there what thou shalt bee, thou shalt euer be, and be willing to bee; thou shalt not desire the prayses of men, as hauing exceeded human mediocritie, and who art nowe heaped with heauenly felicities: for as the shadow here followeth the body, so there glorie shall followe thee, there thou shalt swell with no desires, there thou shalt be leane with no thoughts, there thou shalt wast & pine with no affections, thou shalt not be sollicited with hope or feare; thou shalt not bee disquieted with any rumors; no gaines can make thee more happie, no losses can make thee lesse; [Page 225] thy immortalitie shall continue in the same state; thy life shall bee a perpetuall tranquilitie, and that (which is the perfection of all felicitie) it shall be a continuall sight, and contem­plation of thy maker.

HItherto haue I proceeded with all the diligence and care I could, to repell those darts which the vnthankefull mind throweth against God: to these of ours, let any man adde whatsoeuer, he is guiltie of himselfe, neither can I or any man els expresse those things, for they are placed in the low­est bottome of the mind, where lyeth secret all that poysō which mans impudēcie, vttereth against God, euery man as he inwardly searcheth himselfe, shall finde it, hee only who is the seer of hearts, and also the measurer of times, and the vm­pire of thoughts: and to whome all secretes are [Page 227] open; apprehēdeth the impurities of an others brest, these which we haue set downe which either may be learned by reading, or touched and knowne by ex­perience; it is fit the Readers should take in good part.

Those that are more speciall, and more secret are left to euery man himselfe; it is sufficient for me, to haue shewed those thinges, wherein men in this kinde most vsually offend; furthermore least I should permit by negligence any thing that appertaineth to this subiect; I will in one word set downe those, which by this worst vice delude the society of man, the fault of an vngratefull mind, although it sticke fast by the rootes of every vice, yet as I thinke it ta­keth chiefely his increase, and nourishment, from folly, couetousnesse, and pride. For the vnthankefull person, neither acknowledgeth the benefits recei­ued; neither regardeth him that gaue them; but him that is ready to giue, wheresoeuer hee is, hee fin­deth him out and hangeth vpon him. He gapeth after things, soone heard, desired, hoped. Hee ac­counteth him of whom he hath receiued a benefit, as a creditor, whose name hee blotteth out as not being minded to pay him. Surely in that he thin­keth, that he ought him a benefit, which gaue him one and was not in his debt, hee is a foole, hee that neither repayeth nor thinketh of repaying that which hee hath receiued, is the robber of an other, and the sordide miser of his owne, and in that hee [Page 228] doth not acknowledge them, he is proudely maliti­ous and malitiously forgetfull. Therefore an vn­thankefull person (howsoeuer hee wickedly dissem­bles) dooth know that hee hath receiued a benefit, but hee taketh the thankes from it that is due vnto it, and either passeth it all ouer with silence, and daw­beth ouer the memory of it, or impudently deny­eth the fact. I say, denyeth either by dissembling by wordes or in deede; neither dooth the memo­ry of an vngratefull person so much faile him, as his vnluckinesse, malitiousnesse, and dissembling o­uerruleth him, which he himself denies not, by often saying, many sacrifice, but fewe are hearde from hence there spring many kindes of vnthankfull per­sons, some requite a benefit as they thinke but secret­ly, and as fearing least it should appeare, so carefull they are, least any man should see it, neither are they so much ashamed to requite it, as to confesse that good turne, which to confesse they ought not to bee ashamed; of this kinde are those for the most part who are bound to their inferiours; to these I may ioyne those who are bound for those giftes, whereby they are more wise, and more learned, yet either they returne some small thing, for so great a bene­fit (and with much a doe) or looke a squint or not at all, at those by whom they are inriched with those benefits which cannot be requited either with gold or siluer, and if peraduenture they do acknowledge the benefit, they so frame thēselues, that they seeme [Page 229] not to repay it: But to bestow as it were some bene­fit vpon their inferiours: like to these are those which either contemne, or hate their Schoole Masters, and those whom they haue had as instructers and infor­mers of their young yeares; by all these for the most part a benefit is so requited, that a man had rather not haue it requited at all. In this kinde often and very greatly Princes offend towards men painefull and industrious; such as are most obsequious vnto them; thus often, Generalles, and Captaines of­fend towards souldiers of excellent vertue; and the lesse and inferiour persons are not in this kinde lesse froward, then those great and mighty, whilst they often swell, and are pust vp more then either they know or can performe; and whilst they doe admire their owne and odiously extoll them, the bounty of others dooth grow vile and base with them; surely though they be wittie and learned, yet they are swel­ling and arrogant, and indeed unthankfull; and euill interpreters of an other mans liberality. Of this kind was Lentulus, he whom Augustus had drawne from the Courts and pleading, to great riches and ho­nour; yet found him vnthankefull, for hee was not afraide to say, that the Emperour had not bestowed so much vpon him, as he lost by pleading, & the vse of his eloquence. Amongst vnthankful persons I rec­kon him who is thankful for feare, for he feareth that in his doubtful estate, he shall be forsakē if he be not esteemed for some recompence, and the significatiō [Page 230] of a gratefull minde. Others require a benefit in some part, but it is of an other mans, whilst in the meane time they spare their owne.

These vnderstand not that there is scarse any re­quittall of thankes, but with some coste, nay not without the helpe first of vertue, then of our wealth, and our increasing happinesse (others and these are men of an euill disposition) wish euill to those, of whom they haue receiued a benefit, that in the mi­sery of an other they may haue occasion to be found thankefull. Neither doe they this so much to helpe him that needeth his helpe, as laying aside all conscience, for a vaine rumour of glory. Others (whilst they are ouer desirous to seeme thankfull) they fall into that vice which they shun; and which exceedingly they hate in others: they are sory (they say) for the least thing to be bound either to this man or to that; they are so impatient for the receiuing of a benefit, that as ouerloaden with some great burdē, they are presently desirous to lay it off, these whilst they cannot indure to sustaine the benefits of others show plainely that they will no way haue other be beholding to them: others presently return the thing they haue receiued or the like value, as a debtor doth gold or siluer, they dare bestowe nothing be­sides the principall. These in giuing backe againe that, which they haue receiued, or some thing of the same value, doe not requite a benefit; for see­ing euery requitall of a benefit, is rather the thanks [Page 231] of the minde, then of the thing, hee that requiteth not a thing giuen, with the same thankefull minde that it is giuen, doth not requite a benefit.

From hence it followeth, that hee which dooth not requite a benefit, because when he would, hee cannot, is often thankefull; whereas he that requi­teth it not with thy minde, is euer vnthankefull. O­thers slowly and sluggishly requiting a benefit, re­quite it not at all; for with these a benefit dooth so wither, that by degrees it vanisheth away; these Saint Ambrose pronounceth to bee vnthankefull, as all those who expect to be called vpon to requite a benefit receiued; others in requiting an old bene­fit, expect a newe, neither doe they know how to giue any thanks, but such as haue hookes in them; which what way soeuer they are applyed, they euer eatch something. This is the Courtiers manner to insnare the liberality of others, in this deceitfull kinde of thankes; and with this minde, speake of the old benefits, to gaine new and much greater by it. Thus they banish benefits out of the society of men, and instead of benefits, bring in a deceitfull gaining kind of trafficke, and plaine filthie basenesse, wher­with the honesty of all benefits is blemisht. Hee also is vnthankefull whome thou hast not tyed vnto thee with thy benefits, nor giueth thee no thanks for them, but requiteth them with euill wordes, and to these addeth also euill deeds.

Thus he hateth him to whome hee oweth mo [Page 232] of a debtor, and one that is bound, he becommeth an enemy, euer quarreling, iniurious, full of braw­ling, threatning, and reuenging. This worst kind of men (from whom there is nothing to be reaped but a haruest of much euill) one resembleth to a ramme which often butteth with his hornes at him that is higher; I should rather thinke such a one to be that Woulse, of which was made the Greeke E­pigram, which I haue assayled to translate word for word:

This kinde of vnthankfull persons, the wise man no­teth in these words; he that rewardeth euill for good, euill shall not depart from his house. Like vnto these are they to whom we must giue thankes (and against our wils) for miuries and reproches that are done vnto vs; Of this kind are these cruell heades, tyrants, diffemblers, framed to arrogancy, cruelty, and impyety, who in the midst of sacreledge and flaughter, according to their clemency and good na­ture bestow wicked and cruell fanours; at the enuy whereof they blush not, but amongst their sighes & grones, are content to suffer flattering thankes to be bestowed vpō thē, & find praise in hainous offences. [Page 233] To conclude they thinke it meete not onely to haue thankes but to receiue giftes from those whom they haue spoyled. Neither haue Princes only this great and heauie hand, but others also, such a one did Marcus Caelius describe Appius Claudius to bee, writing to Marcus Tullius, in these words. I am a­shamed to confesse vnto thee, and to complaine of the iniuries of the most vngratefull man Appius, who beganne to hate me because he ought me ma­ny good turnes, and when that miserable man could not command himselfe to pay them, he made open warre with mee: wisely and after his manner (sayth Tacitus) benefits are so long acceptable, as that there is hope they may berequited; but when they be­ginne to exceede for thankes, they reape hatred; These are the wayes so farre as I knowe whereby men are for the most part vnthankefull; that is euill deceiuers of benefits receiued; In which vyce (as Cicero sayth) there is no vyce wanting; Doubt­lesse there is none a greater enemy to humane socie­tie. By this meanes mutuall charitie is extingui­shed, the hope of mutuall helpe is cut off, and all the traffick of humanitie and kindnesse is stopt. For the going and comming of thankes being taken a­way, those whom thou seest, are no more men, but wilde beasts in the shape of men, euer rauening that which is neerest vnto them. The vnthankfull person is an enemy of all men; nay of all humanity it selfe: hee is a gulfe that draweth all thinges vnto him, [Page 234] without respect of any but of himselfe, It may whol­ly bee dispaired that there should be any intercourse of humanity with him, who admitteth no inter­change either of thinges, or wordes: For as their is no greater argument of loue and courtesie then in­geniously to receiue, and to giue thankes: so there is no surer signe of a very crooked nature, then to bee vnthankfull: those that haue called an vnthank­full person, a tunne that is bored through, because it holdeth nothing, but all is lost that is put into it, In my opinion they haue saide little what he is: He is I know not what worse thing, a plague, a poyson, those are more significant in my opiniō which haue giuen to the vnthankefull person, the ewe tree for his badge, a tree sad and vnluckie, full of hurtfull fruite (if those poysoned berries may be called fruite) and a deadly shadowe, nay antiquity did account this vice so odious that the Latins did not thinke it worthy to haue a name, besides what maruaile is it, if as there is no man so hurtfull to all, so there bee no man so hated of all as hee that is infected with this vice.

There is nothing sayth Plautus more burden­some then an vnthankefull person. It is much better that thou shouldest bee euer bountfiull, then vnthankefull; For the good will com­mende him, but this euen the badde themselues will dispraise. VVee haue that same excellent speech of ENNIVS to AVGVSTVS, taking it [Page 225] impatiently that it was not in his owne power, not to be vnthankefull.

This one iniurie (saith he) O Caesar thou hast done vnto mee, that I liue and die vnthankefull. All which things though they be verie true, and that it is certaine that there is nothing a greater enemie or more odious then an vnthankefull person, yet wee must not hate them, but blame them, and amend them, least peraduenture we hate our selues. For who is there if hee looke more truely, and more se­uerely into himselfe, that is not prone vnto this vice? who is there that loueth not himselfe, so much that almost he despiseth all others? Who is there so vpright, that leaneth not this way? The greatest men oftentimes, and such as were the conquerors of o­ther vices (if this were not wanting vnto them) are triumphed ouer, of this fault only; neither is this the staine and blemish of particular persons, and men vnlearned, but of the most and most skilfull: yea (which is more strange) of all, and often of those who are much esteemed for their excellent wisedome. The Senat of Rome is said vnthankefully to haue re­quited the first builder of their City: nay, Rome it selfe was held most vnthankefull to Camillus and Sci­pio Africanus, the two greatest and worthyest pillers of that Empire. Surely these are said to be the words of Africanus: O vngratfull Countrie, thou shalt not inioye so much as my bones. Hee might truely exclame:

The Carthagians were not free from this fault, when as they gaue Zantippus the Lacedemonian cap­taine, for taking of Regulus, an honorable re­ward, but secretly to the ma [...]riners to bee drowned. An vngratfull minde in the men of Carthage, could not indure that the Lacedemonians should gaine the honor of this taken enemie. The Prophet Esay that seuere rooter vp of impietie, in the verie beginning of his Prophesie, in plaine termes vpbraydeth the Iewes with their great vnthankefulnes; the oxe know eth his owner, and the Asse his maisters cribbe, but Israell hath not knowne, my people hath not vnder­stood. Thus God by Ezechiell reprooueth the great vnthankfulnes of Hierusalem, Ezech. 16. Wisely saith Si [...]maclius, it is neuer fittenor safe for a Common­wealth to be vnthankefull. It is truely also saide of Marcus Aurelius (that wise and most experienced Prince) that two things especially are to bee obser­ued of a Prince, not to reuenge his enemies, nor to bee vnthankefull toward his frendes. As it is true in pri­uate persons, so that common saying is most true in Princes: The earth yeeldeth not any thing worse, then an vnthankefull person. Here it is fit to admonish all not to detract from their bountie, by reason of the ingratitude of any, nay rather let him desire to bee e­steemed a man beneficiall, because this vertue lieth contemned; especially in this age which hath scarse [Page 237] left any place either for benefits or thankes. Let him thinke that the greatest reward of this vertue, is in the vertue it selfe. Therefore let him not require thanks for a pleasure done: For thankes perish as soone as they are required; nay the only remembrance of a benefitte, is an vpbray ding, no lesse hatefull in the giuer, then forget fulnesse in the receiuer. It is a ri­diculous leuitie to suffer the occeasions, and matters of well doing to perish; because the benefitte with some one man hath perished: Nay, if any where, then here we must be constant; For the first vertue continueth not vnlesse thou adde a second to it: For thou canst scarce defende former benefits; but with following benefits, In giuing and receiuing of bene­fits, we must not euer follow which way thinges leade vs, but what way reason counselleth. It is of so much value saith (Seneca) to finde one thankefull, that thou must prooue euen those that are vnthankefull. Ther­fore let euerie one do this, whilst he giueth former benefits, to thinke of those which must be giuen after;

THe greatest punishment of an vnthankfull person is in the fault it selfe. No infamy may bee com­pared with that which springeth from this staine. Neither is there any punishment so cruel as to be called, and to bee accounted vnthankful; this, though it be true, yet Seneca saith that amongst the Macedo­nians there lay an action of plea against vnthanke­full persons: and other graue writers affirme that there haue beene Iudgements giuen against this kinde of men. Others prosecute this fault with the [Page 239] most greeuous kinde of punishment: killing the vn­thankefull person by nayling him through the necke to the earth with a stake. Surely Amianus Marcel­lus reporteth, that the Persians had most seuere laws, amongst which the cruellest were against those who were vnthankefull, or had fayled their frendes.

Thus amongst the Hebrewes: sonnes that were vn­thankefull to their parents were stoned to death: Phillip, King of Macedon branded with a marke that souldier that was vnthankefull; amongst the Atheni­ans the bondman conuicted of his patron, was depri­hed of the right of freedome. By the ciuill law, Do­nations bestowed vpon vnthankefull persons, were reuersed. Sonnes for this fault were disinherited. hee that was at libertie, was called into the gouernment of his father: the vassall looseth his free farme: A­mongst other nations (I know not whether more wisely) there was no lawe (at all) made against vn­thankefull persons:

For seeing the valew of a benefitte can scarsely be esteemed, and of an vncertaine thing the valuation is vncertaine, it is thought sufficient to punish him that is vnthankefull with the hatred of men, and to referre him vnto God the seuere reuenger. Let this action cease saith Seneca, because a good turne must be done without hope of recompence, for it is the debt of honestie. Which if it be true (as it is) if any man be called into iudgement for a benefit receiued, [Page 240] and not requited, it ceaseth to be a benefit, and the thing is made a debt. For all thankes of a benefitie as soone as there is mention of paying, vtterly pe­risheth: for the reason is farre vnlike (saith Tully) betwixt a debt of mony, and a debt of thankes.

HItherto we haue laboured to make plaine what impietie against God, what wickednes against man, and how much inhumanitie is in an vnthankful minde: I haue also taught that those acceptable and fruitefull thankes which only God accepteth of vs, is a sincere and a religious minde, namely that mortalitie should (at least) reuerently worship that sacred power which it cannot recom­pence with any benefit, and whose benefittes hee cannot value how great they are, that him he should reuerence with all dutie and honour: not in vnlike manner are men to bee requited. First [Page 242] I say, that whatsoeuer the state is wherein wee are, in that we are neuer depriued of the abilitie of thanke­fulnes; if with all our vnderstanding bee not taken from vs: for the first steppe of a thankefull minde, is no such thing as there neede much labour to per­forme it, for it is nothing else, but presently to ac­knowledge the benefit, presently to be bound by it, to professe the thing not dissemblingly, but as it is in­deede, to confesse how much thou hast receiued, of what kinde, and of what kinde of giuer, by what oc­casion, how fit for thy affaires; in how fit a time and place, how bountifully, with what facilitie in the giuer, and with what profit to the receiuer, neither otherwise can they be both made alike. To con­clude, so to thinke, and thus or in the like manner to speake to him, of whom we haue receiued a benefit: as longe as I liue, I shall neuer thinke that I haue re­turned thankes: no not though I trie all meanes, nei­ther I beseech you doe you thinkeso: Your benefitte shall euer remaine firme in my minde: that which you haue giuen, you account a small thinge, but I finde that to be great which I haue receiued: besides how great must I needs thinke it bestowed, without my desert; to obtaine which, I vsed no begging, no cost, no labour, no flattery, no boldnesse: besides you vsed no art, to make mee intreate more ear­nestly, you [...] cutte of all those thinges which might hinder or weaken my hope: of your owne accorde you haue euer bestowed that excellent [Page 243] benefit vpon me; you turned the modesty of my wi­shes into confidence, my confidence into effect; and hauing yet receiued nothing, yet you expect no­thing; so that I cannot tell whether your bounty were greter in giuing, or your modesty in expecting: surely if I can perform nothing else, yet I will do this, that the benefit which exceedeth my ability to re­quite, by my thankfulnesse you shall euer haue cause to remember: although I know that I am more bound vnto you then I can speake; and because I haue nothing wherewith to giue thankes, I will onely wish and desire God to performe it for me. Doubt­lesse hee that speaketh thus, although he hath not gi­uen any thing, yet he hath requited the benefit, when as often times hee that hath giuen much, yet hath done nothing, and is vnthankefull. For all the esti­mation of a benefit (as we haue spoken before) is re­ferred vnto the minde: not vnto that which is either giuen or receiued, not to the vulgar estimation of men, which often-times misconstrueth things, nor to the profit either reaped or hoped for from the be­nefit: and as we haue said that a benefit is one thing, and a debt an other, so here wee must distinguish the matter of thankes and reward, benefit and debt: of him who is a debter for a good turne, and of him who is debter for money lent, hereupon it follow­eth, that it is in euery mans owne power, how vn­thankefull hee is, for as soone as thou shewest that thou hast gratefully receiued a benefit, thou hast re­quited [Page 244] it; study to be thankefull and thou art thank­full. For as soone as sincerely thou hast but thought of requiting a benefit, thou hast requited it. Look at that which he looked at that gaue it, he that hath giuen a benefit hath filled both the sides of the lease; both of the layings out, and the receits. If thou returnest a benefit with the same mind that thou hast receiued it, thou art thankful, if thou needest none to put thee in mind, if thou be admonisht of thy owne conscience; thou hast obtained the praise of a thank­ful person; thou hast adorned thy thanks with all the ornaments of beauty; last of all, thou shewest that thou art brought vp in the company of those most thankful graces; whose Trinity wise antiquity made to be the badge of a thankfull mind. The next step of a thankfull mind, is, that he which is so affected per­form indeed that which he thus thinketh: to this pur­pose, that he ad al the means & the indeuours that he can, and the greater & more acceptable that the be­nefit is which thou hast receiued, so much the more soone and more cheerefully seeke occasion, and be­ing offered take occasion to requite it; leaue nothing vnattempted to shew thy selfe thankfull, so let eue­ry man perswade himselfe, that as it was needfull to receiue the benefit, so it is no lesse needfull to requite it. In one word, whosoeuer thou art, feare God, reue­rence the iudgments of men, free thy self from those punishments which remain for vnthankfull persons, know that humanity is contained in the intercourse [Page 245] of benefits, this being taken away, al right & honesty is vtterly ouerthrown, as much as in thee lieth (who­soeuer thou art) defend and maintaine this whereof God, nature, and necessity is an author to thee.

These paines Right Honorable I will inlarge no further, although I am not ignorant that much more might be spoken of it, which I know is performed of most learned & most eloquent men, who before me haue trauailed with cōmendations in this argument, but as euery man followeth his own spirit, so I doubt not but I shall obtaine pardon of you, & of all those into whose hands this labour shall come, if being content with these few things I cut of all other su­perfluous, intricate and by wayes; I know that those delight more, but in these which I haue vsed, there is more strength; peraduenture more authority and credit, and if any thing in this bee preter­mitted by mee, it is fit that hee that obserueth so much, should supply himselfe, out of those euerla­sting fountaines both old and new, whilst we in the meane time doe meditate something of more worth.