HEe that was before the be­ginning, made nothing since the beginning, which hee [Page 2] thought worthy to parti­cipate of reason but man.The hap­py estate man was created in. God let al other creatures see their beeing; to man hee gaue to know his be­ing, that is, how he came to bee, and to what end hee was made. He suffe­red the beasts to see the things themselues; to man he granted to know the causes of them, both how, and why they were. The wandring ambitious spi­rit of man, not content with this free gift of his maker, sought yet to know more, and by that meanes came to know lesse.Mans Fall. No sooner did hee disobey [Page 3] God, but a sinnefull mist so dimmed the eies of his intellect, that of little he could iudge aright. What hee did then know, was but as a dreame of what he knew before. Where­as he might haue bequea­thed to his Successors Freedome and Innocen­cy, he left Obscurity to their vnderstandings, and Slauery to their wils. So that man (who was for­med a sacred, stable, inno­cent, perfect creature) is now iustly stiled, The dreame of a shadow, the son of Calamity, the example of Imbecility, the spoyle of [Page 4] Time, the sport of fortune, the image of Change. In a word, A little filth dige­sted into forme.

God re­payres the ruines of mans mind two sundry wayes.All that miserable man now knowes, is, that hee knowes nothing. And vn­doubtedly, his knowledge would not farre surmount that of beasts, did not hee that is mercy, and boun­ty it selfe, deale mercifully and bountifully with him two sundry wayes.The first way. First, when by the omnipotent, and absolute power of his Godhead, he imparteth knowledge of things vnto his creatures freely, with­out much study and la­bour [Page 5] of the party so indu­ed. So was Solomon taught by God the knowledge of all things in the world. The Apostles likewise were taught sundry lan­guages from aboue with­out any study at all; and vnto Saint Iohn in parti­cular, the knowledge of things to come was re­uealed from God by his Angell.

These kinds of gifts, & these sorts of knowledge, as they bee most diuine, and certain, immediately proceeding by influence from God aboue: so be they not common, euery [Page 6] where, in all places, or in all persons to bee found.

The se­cond way.The second way, God hath shewed vs to repaire the aforesaid ruines of the mind, is more vsuall, eue­ry day practised, and ne­cessarily followed; to wit, the study of Philosophy, to which the Arts giue entrance; the onely or­dinary meane which God hath left vnto vs frō time to time, in all ages, in all nations, to restore memo­ry, to enlighten vnderstā ­ding, and direct will for the finding out of solitary Truth, who goes still a­lone, and the refuting of [Page 7] Errour, the damme of all diseas'd opinions. The excellency of the former science, which comes by inspiration, though the treatise of it bee more no­ble, and the contemplati­on of it more pleasing then of the latter, I will not here handle, it being, perhaps, a ground too hard for a deeper Diuine then my selfe to plow vp. Of the latter then onely I will treate, and yet not of al that (what wit can com­passe it all?) but of that part onely, the necessary vse whereof shall most commend it. That is, ac- [...] [Page 10] tus? No. Socrates? No. Seneca? No. Though these bee men somewhat aboue men, greater then the greatnesse of their fame, whose meanest ac­tions exclude all excep­tions, yet I will not make them my guides in the Morall path I am to treade.

The Names of these men sufficiently cōmend them, their deeds prayse them aboue the power of my words. I, who in all things am a vowed ad­uersary of the opinionated Vulgars, wil picke me out a Tutour, whom the gid­dy [Page 11] headed Rout neuer na­meth but in derision, yet deserues to bee had in great estimation. Who may this bee? Diogenes the Cynicke. A man,Diogenes praysed. who certainly neuer saw his e­quall for greatnesse and constancy of mind, and yet with the cōmon sort is in so vile repute, that e­uery scuruy, sordid fel­low they nickname with Diogenes, and bring him vp in their bald, witlesse Prouerbs. And (which is a thing remarkable) hee that loathes their saucy, senselesse conuersation, & stands amongst them, as [...] [Page 14] iudgement, the Ariadne in the labyrinth of life. The Prouerbe goes, that hee, who would finde Piety, must seeke her farre en­ough from the Court; & I dare depose, that hee who would trace out Ve­rity, must runne farre re­mote from the grosse-headed Multitude. This course tooke Diogenes, who though hee affected Populum, the people, yet hee hated Plebem; the plebei­ans, and wished for a gulfe betweene him and them. It is a thing memorable of him, that standing on a day in the market place, [Page 15] and crying with a loude voyce, Heus homines: He, men, many of the igno­rant frie came about him, whom he beat away with his staffe, and sayd, Homi­nes, non purgamenta voca­u [...]: I called men, and not cleansings.

Cōming out of a bath, one asked him, whether many men were within: he said no; but being questi­oned if a great throng were there, he said, yes. Being demaunded, why the charity of the people extended it selfe to the lame and the blind, and not to Philosophers: Be­cause [...] [Page 18] well as an issue-male at the hands of Iupiter.

Thus hee taught, thus he derided,The loue of Dioge­nes to the wise. thus hee scor­ned the rude ones. On the contrary, the polisht, and learned spirits hee had in as much admiration, as the former in detestation. Laertius writes, that whē he came to Athens, hee went to visite Antisthenes, from whom hauing re­ceyued a shamefull re­pulse, he yet tarried, ney­ther would depart; at which Antisthenes an­gred, lifted vp his staffe to strike him: Diogenes no­thing moued thereat, [Page 19] bowing downe his head, bade him strike, telling him, he could not driue him away with the har­dest staffe he could finde, so long as hee discoursed of any thing, whereby his vnderstanding might bee bettered. O thou glory of Greece! did pouerty ac­cording to thine owne confession driue thee to study Philosophy, & shall not stripes now driue thee from it?

Pause here a while, Rea­der, & if thou beest yong, learne here to loue lear­ning; and if in age thou art, let this example com­fort [...] [Page 22] quisition. One saying, there was no such thing as Motion; he rose vp & walked. In this he poin­ted at the sottishnesse of those, that deny things vniuersally granted. Spado a rich knaue, writ ouer the portall of his house these words: Nihil hic ingredi­atur mali: Let nothing euill enter here: Alas, said Di­ogenes, Where shall the Master of the house goe in? Who sees not in this place the pretended puri­ty of Spado pointed at, and laughed at? A neat briske young man spurred him a question, to whom Dio­genes [Page 23] answered, that hee would not resolue him, til he had felt whether hee were a man or a woman. Here an effeminate dresse not be fitting a man, is re­proued. He resembled a rich Buzzard to a sheepe, with a golden Fleece. Seeing many women hā ­ged on an Oliue tree, I would, saies hee, All trees bore such fruit. Being que­stioned what hee would take to receiue a blow on the pate, he answered, An Helmet. Being deman­ded, what Wine he lo­ued best, he said Another mans. Comming to [Page 24] Myndum, seeing great gates, and a little City; he thus exclaimed: O men of Myndū, shut your gates, lest your City goe out. He gibed at beggary, that would obserue state. To a bad, sluggish wrastler, newly turned Physition, he said; Those that threw thee vpon the ground, thou wilt now throw into it.

Xeniades asking him, how he would be buried; hee answered, Vpon his face; and made this his reason, that the world would shortly bee turned topsie turuy, and then should he be buried on his back, [Page 25] his tayle would come to be vppermost.Here hee mockes also the Ma­cedonians Here he scoffes at those, that be­fore death haue a great care of buriall. He pray­sed those that were about to take wiues, but neuer tooke them; that were a­bout to sayle, but neuer sayled.

Being demanded what was the fittest houre to dine at; he replyed, that a rich mans houre was, whē hee would, and a poore mans, when he could get it.

Many more of these ingenious speeches had he, for which, a very bar­ren [Page 26] wit may finde fitte ap­plications: but I will not here set them downe, lest the length offend, and the number take away the sweetnesse. Besides, I should much wrong Dio­genes, who hath yet better stuffe in him, and more worthy the dwelling vp­on. I will therefore now arriue at the Port, where all Diogenes vertues lie at anchor. At anchor, said I? Yes surely, Vertue ne­uer tooke a deeper root in any mind, then in that of Diogenes. By reiteration of actions, he had gained so strong a habite for eue­ry [Page 27] vertue, that they were of proofe to abide the battery of Fortune. He was no Statist; and there­fore of his prudency, and iustice, I shall not need to make relation. Hee had not so much as need of that part of Iustice, which wee call Commutatiue: for hee neither bought, nor borrowed any thing.

Socrates going on a time into the Market, pō ­dring the infinity of things vendible, cried out; Yee Gods, how many things I want not! Dioge­nes might better haue said so, his drinke being [Page 28] water, his food roots, his house a tubbe. Certain­ly, had he wanted a nurse, no beast on earth but might haue bragged of as choyse keeping. Na­ture was his Cooke, and prouided him no sauce but hunger.His Tem­perancie. Can his Tē ­perancy better be expres­sed?His Conti­nency. As for his Conti­nency (in which he is held defectiue) I can read but one thing in all his life, which can eclypse it; and vndoubtedly, had hee thought it a breach of Continency, hee had ne­uer acted that. It is a thing to me strange, that [Page 29] Diogenes so great a teach­er of Modesty, should him selfe be incontinent.

He was so ioyfull a be­holder of Modesty, that seeing once a youth blush, he said, Trust to it, my Sonne, this is the colour of Vertue. Hearing a comely youth to vse vn­decent speeches, hee thus rebuked him: Fie, Sonne, His loue of Mode­stie. doe not you blush to draw a Leaden sword out of an yuo­ry Scabbard? Speake En­uy, could Modesty her­selfe haue spoken more? To a young man too cu­rious in his dressing, hee gaue this checke: If thou [Page 30] goest to men, all this is in vaine; if to women, tis wic­ked.

His patience.His Patience next pre­sents it selfe, which in him was so great, that beleefe wil reiect it, as a thing in­credible. His pouerty, his old age, his banish­ment, the hisses of the people, the whooping of boyes, he bore with such a calme of mind, that a man would haue thought his discontents had con­tented him. Hauing re­ceiued a blow on the head from one, all his reuenge lay in these words: Truly, I neuer thought till now, my [Page 31] head had beene armed with an helmet.

Thus he ouercame him­selfe, and conquer'd his aduersary, who was ouer­come by anger. They hit him in the teeth with his stamping of false coyne in his youth; to whom, this was his answere: In my youth I piss'd apace, but now softly. The worst speeches they could giue him, stir­red not vp his wrath, but his contempt. Hee sayes himself, that this Worlds most miserable creature, is an old Man poor. How wee should beleeue thee, Diogenes, I know not: for [Page 32] thou thy selfe art poore, thou thy selfe art aged, & yet thy felicity admits no equiparation, nay, hardly a comparison. To shew Fortune, that shee hath not crosses enow to load thee, thou plaiest the Vo­luntary, and makest thy burthen more weighty, induring more then the hard-hearted Goddesse would haue thee, put­ting thy self to a penance, which shee neuer enioy­ned. I call you to witnes all that now breathe; was there euer (without a measure of grace) such a patterne of patience? Hee [Page 33] renders Fortune backe, part of her allowance, as if it were too large. Shee giues him a dish, hee throwes it in her face; and seeing a boy drinke water out of the hollow of his hand, he does the like, ne­uer vsing his dish more. What, sayes he, & shal a boy excel Diogenes in humility?His Humi­litie. No, Diogenes, no boy shal surpasse thee in Humility, in Magnanimity no man. Thou couldst neuer haue been thus humble,His Mag­nanimity. hadst thou not beene Magnani­mous.

Aristotle here staies my hand, and teacheth mee, [Page 34] that Magnitudo animi magnis in rebus (vt nomen ipsum declarat) elucet: The Magnitude of the mind (as the name it selfe declares) appeares in great things, & therefore Magnanimity cannot bee ascribed to Diogenes. Yes Aristotle, I will conuince thee with a sentence of thine owne, & by it proue, that Mag­nanimity was in Diogenes. These are thy wordes: Magno animo habendus is, qui magna se mereri exi­stimat, idque suo merito: He is to be accounted Magna­nimious, that thinks he de­serues much, his merite an­swering [Page 35] his estimation. That Diogenes knew his owne deserts, and was neerer the ouer then the vndervalew of himselfe, the whole course of his life will discouer.

When he was taken & sold, it was demanded of him, what hee could do: to which he answerd, that he knew how to cōmand men; and therefore tur­ning himselfe to the Cry­er; Proclaime, sayes he, if any man will buy him a Master, &c. He told Xe­niades, who bought him, that though hee was his Slaue, yet he must be o­beyed; [Page 36] For, sayes hee, a physitian & a Pilot, though they be seruants both, yet they rule all. Being inuited to supper, he denied his presence, and made this his reason; that hee had not yet receyued thanks for his last company.

He was so far from a low opinion of himselfe, that hee thought his fel­lowship was richly worth a thanksgiuing. Some counselling him to seeke out his seruant run away, hee told them, it would be ridiculous, if Manes could liue without Dioge­nes, and Diogenes could [Page 37] not liue without the helpe of Manes.

Going from Lacede­mon towards Athens, one encountring him on the way, questioned with him from whence hee came, and whither he went: to whom he returnd this an­swere, that he came from men, and was going to women. His bigge hart could not smother his scorne of womanish per­sons, nor his approbation of the manly. He deni­ed himselfe to be a Slaue; for, sayes he, Lions serue not their Keepers, but the Keepers the Lyons. Hee [Page 38] thought himselfe to bee the same amongst men, that the Lyon was a­mongst the beasts; & that though Fortune kept him from the exercise of his authority, yet he was in­deed their Emperour; & therefore a feare, and a reuerence was due vnto him. Neyther was this onely Stoicall Magniloquē ­cy: hee did the great things he spake. Though Fortune allotted him the portion of a Slaue, yet did he vndergo no office ser­uile. The worst of his office was, to teach; a fun­ction, then which none is [Page 39] more Noble and Royall. What higher happinesse can Inuention find out, then to bee able to teach reason to Creatures rati­onall? We seeing those not to want their prayse, that haue the gift of tea­ching a Dogge, a Horse, or a Hawke.

If then the prestancy of instructing be such; surely Diogenes (with whom it was so frequent) may in name, but not in deed bee a Slaue. A Prince hee was rather, who gaue lawes and precepts wor­thy a Prince, his mind being a fountain, in whose [...] [Page 42] went himselfe in person to visite him.

In the suburbes of Co­rinth, at a place called Cranium, hee found him layed al along in the Sun: but when the good olde man saw so many com­ming towards him, hee somewhat raysed vp him­selfe, & fixed his eyes ful vpon Alexander. He that in warre so furious, was here as courteous, and as­ked the Cynicke, if hee lacked any thing: Yes, said he, that I doe, That thou stand out of my Sun a little. Alexander had the Mag­nanimity of this man in so [Page 43] great admiration, that hee was ready to wish a trans­formation of Alexander into Diogenes: but when hee remembred his im­mortall race; his selfe-loue made him think that thought base; and yet to his deriding followers he sayde, that if hee had not been Alexander, he could haue wished himselfe Di­ogenes. I cannot blame him: for if he, that appro­cheth neerest in know­ledge to the Deity, de­serue amongst men the principality: Surely then Diogenes shall be the supe­riour of Alexander.

[...] [Page 46] spirit, one World is too nar­row to containe, whom the riches in, & vpon all earth cannot content: Behold here, (beyond thy hope!) a sight; a happy man, the reso­lution of whose mind no ex­ternall thing can shake. Without enuy, Passion an enemy to Vertue. without feare, without hope I liue, being subiect to as little passion as any, the gods excepted.

See here the vniuersall happinesse of this Vniuerse contracted into a Tubbe, which I no sooner goe out of, but all the ground I walke on, is mine owne. My foote treads on not anothers earth; all belongs to Diogenes. [Page 47] Mine eye cannot discouer a­ny thing, I am not Lord of. Nature made all things in this inferiour world for the vse of Diogenes. Nothing on the earthes surface, no­thing in her entrailes, that is not mine. I dare call the Sun mine, the Stars mine, nay, Iupiter himselfe, mine. If (according to thy vaine supposition) he were thy Fa­ther, yet so precious in his sight thou couldst not be, as is Diogenes. There is an affinity and a friendship betweene good men, and the gods, whose goodnesse they imitate. If then thou bee the Sonne of this Almighty [...] [Page 50] uoyding of any thing. Ver­tue makes me rich, and po­uerty secure. What is it I lacke? Am I not voyde of feare? Am I not free? Who euer saw me frustrated of my wishes? Could Fortune euer yet force mee to accuse the gods of iniustice, or men of falshood? How often hath shee put me to the racke, and yet could neuer make mee confesse her Deity? All my actions are generous, bold, honest, and endure the light. It may be Nature, being ha­sty, was not curious in the frame of my body, but made me all at one sitting, not gracing my visage with her [Page 51] purest colours. What of that? The faire­nesse of the mind is to be prefer­red before that of the body. In this Tunne of filth, a mind as fayre as the Sunne I carry about. My consci­ence is my guarde, Vertue my Armour; by the former backed, by the latter armed, I am inuincible. I loue ho­nesty simply, for it self with­out hope of reward, or feare of punishment. Others haue houses to keepe them from the rage of the wind and weather, whereas I lye at the Signe of the Moone, and the seuen Starres; ha­uing nothing but mine in­nocency to defend mee from the heauens cruelty.

I need not blush at any [Page 52] one of my actions: I make the people my spectators, & my Iudges. I approue my selfe to God; the censures of men, The cen­sure of mā not to bee regarded. I regard not, nor care I, if all my thoughts were registred. What is good, I applaud: what is euill, I re­prehend in whome soeuer I finde it. Thus it often fals out, that my Patients beate me, and will not attend the cure of their bad affections. My mind alters not, not­withstanding their stub­bornenesse: but I still en­deuour to teach those that correct me; and with the fondnesse of a Father loue them.

[Page 53] Liberty, (the very sound of which allures all men (whom many haue sought) through fire, through bloud, through famine, yet could not find her) shines in this brest of mine, where shee is so surely seated, that from thence the power of al earth cānot hale her. Thou (who hast conquerd Climates, and brought so many king­doms to obedience) with the strength of althine host, cāst not force the mind of Dio­genes.

Tis possible thou mayest conquer al this Hemisphere, and lead it against that o­ther, but impossible thou [Page 54] shouldst compell Diogenes.Man is cal­led a little World. Thou hast already terrified all the great World; but this little world with all thy for­ces thou canst not affright. Stile not thy selfe Conque­rour, before thou hast ouer­come Diogenes. What canst thou lay vpon me that I cannot vndergoe with an vpright shoulder? I can as freely suffer as thou canst punish. Make Diogenes acknowledge himselfe mise­rable, and then thy victory is complete. Which way canst thou vexe me? An exile I here already stand, and wilt thou banish mee hence too? Doe so; confine mee to what [Page 55] place thou wilt, and that is part of my Country. I am not a Citizen of A­thens, nor of Corinth, but of the World. The whole world is a wise mans Country. I am free of this capacious Circumferēce, and therefore cannot bee sent from home.

Any place habitable for man or beast I can liue in. Thou canst not send me thi­ther where I shall not tread vpon some earth, drink some water. Hauing heauen o­uer, and earth vnder me, I cannot doe amisse. The basest Souldier of thine ar­my was neuer driuen by Necessity to that hardnesse, which I voluntary put my [...] [Page 58] age, The lees of Life; for on my neuer violated word, my later dayes are as plea­sing to mee, as were my first. Sure some woman first broa­ched that opinion, who had rather bee strucken dead, then strucken in yeares. I haue not a Character of age but my haire. My sight is quicke, my ioynts nimble, my backe strong, my heart good. No man that sees me would think that the earths lappe were my best Lod­ging.

Thou seest by this time, great Alexander, that thou canst not send mee out of mine owne Country, or if [Page 59] thou couldst, yet that I am so armed against the mise­ries of an exile, that banish­ment to me would rather be a iourney of pleasure, then of penance. But thou wilt say, that thy power extends it selfe farther, and that thou art Master of my life. I graunt it, thou art so. What of that? Hee is not a Philo­sopher that this can moue. It would trouble me no more to lay downe my life, then it would do thee to take it.

Yea good Gods! what a sight it is to behold an au­stere, Hee is no Philoso­pher that feares death. bushbearded Philo­sopher (who feares a razor, as much as a rope) quake at [Page 60] the name of death, euen as a treuant boy does at the name of his Tutor? Such a one was old Antisthenes, whom I hearing exclaime, and say, Who shall free me of my griefes? I forthwith gaue him a dagger, and told him, that could ease him: to which he made reply, that he desi­red to be rid of his griefes, not of his life. I cannot ab­staine from extremity of laughter, when I ruminate Homers Mars, whom he describes beaten, and how­ling so, that the clamours of ten thousand men could not drowne the noise hee made.

[Page 61] Perhaps he wanted Venus there to wipe his face, to stroke his head, and to drie his n'eyes. Though he was a god, and could not die, yet he could not contemne paine, A good man feares not death, but to de­serue it. which a weak woman in tra­uaile can endure. A lofty spirit indeede feares not death, but to deserue it: and verely, he deserues it, that cannot suffer it.

He that abhorreth death telleth vs, that hee hath yet done nothing to make him­selfe liue heereafter, and therefore would yet bee, because hee neuer yet was.

An earthly body is too [...] [Page 64] in hers. Alexander con­demnes Diogenes to die, and Nature Alexander.

Take this old head off, & see if not vndaunted I stand the stroke, and why? because I know thou art but natures Executioner. I will stare my headsmā in the face with as much confidence, as if he came to barbe mee. Necessity is to be o­beied. What I must, that I will do, without so much as a repine, or a struggle. I am not ignorant that Necessity & Fate are twins; what Fate decrees, that Necessity exacts. I professe to thee, I would nei­ther eate, nor drinke, but that Necessity will haue it [Page 65] so, neither would I die, did not Necessity will it: but, Necessity bidding, I will as willingly die, as either eate, or drinke. And if I should not, Nothing horrible in Death. stripes were my due, since I see nothing hor­rible in death.

No euill can happen to him in this life, that truely comprehends, that in the pri­uation of life there is no e­uill. Those, who compare death to sleepe, shew vs the little harme is in it. Death is nothing to him that con­templates it aright; for while we are, Death is ab­sent, & when death is come, we are then departed.

[Page 66] So that it is a false opinion of deaths cruelty, and not death it selfe that torments vs. Certainely, had Na­ture written the day of each mans death in his forehead, al the world would haue died with thought, and not one haue liued to his assigned day.

No death miserable, but that of profane men. There is no death misera­ble, but that which giues an end to a profane life, the wic­ked leauing their infamy as an inheritance to their poste­ritie. Blessed is hee, and next to the Gods happy, that dies, his head begirt with a Garland of glorious actions, whose sweet sauour shall per­fume [Page 67] the world. Thus shall I die, who haue liued with more innocency then Men, and with approbation of the Gods. Destroy then my bo­dy, victorious man, make it a subiect of dishonour, and shame, nay, exercise all i­maginable villany vpon it, and thou shalt see me stand like one elected by Ioue, to trie how much humane Na­ture can suffer. All thy torments cannot alter the temper of my mind, nor can any punishment displease mee.

Is it thy will the rage of fire consume mee? with a thankefull heart I accept it, [Page 68] thinking it better to hau [...] my body consume in an Ele­ment noble, and borne with Heauen it selfe, then to haue putrifaction, and corrupti­on prey vpon it. Wilt thou drowne mee? Though this bee the most terrible of deaths, because the sub­stance of the Soule (as some thinke) is fiery, and there­fore abhorrs to be quenched, yet it shall nothing at all ap­ [...]ale me. I had as liefe the Fishes should deuoure me, as the Wormes. All paines, all deaths are to mee indiffe­rent.

As a strong constitution can away with heates, and [Page 69] coldes, and all such annoy­ances: so a good disposition can withstand the malice, and the fury of Tyrants, to­gether with all such afflicti­ons. Thou canst prouide no torture, mighty Monarch, against which my minde is not forearmed.

Thus much on the passiue part; now on the Actiue. Leauy Diogenes an Army of men, and see if he do not, as well as thou, teach them the military Discipline, and bee to them an example of Valour. But what shall draw mee into the field? An Ambition to be stiled Monarch of the World? [...] [Page 72] standing; for I had rather giue my body to the ground, then giue ground. In this cause I would not care to die with conquering, so by death I might conquer.

Here should my prowesse proclaime to my Souldiers, that Fortune is sometime wanting to the valiant, but euer to cowards. In this quarrell were Alexander my foe, I would single him out, and fist to fist encoun­ter him, though I knew de­struction to be the certaine wages of his sword. I would then make it apparant to Alexander, that a Philoso­phers courage cannot fall, [Page 73] though his Body cannot stand, A Philoso­phers cou­rage falleth not with his body. and that though it be the taske of one man to take Diogenes prisoner, yet millions of men cannot sub­due his soule.

Nay (which more is) Fortune (to whose will thou and thine army are subiect) could neuer yet cause the mind of Diogenes to stoop. That blind Queene of this Ball, who is aboue thee, and Kings, is vnder mee. My mind is not deiected, but e­rected against Fortunes worst. If thy pride will let thee learne, I will teach thee too how to lay her pro­strate at thy feete. Listen [...] [Page 76] and his last gaspe will grone out loue. In death hee will loue me, and I him after it. His memorie shalbe as deare to mee, as euer was his pre­sence. But graunt it to bee a crosse deseruing griefe, no more to taste the sweet­nesse of my friends conuer­sation. How then? Must I therefore breake out in­to immoderate whining? No. Fortune hath yet left mee Philosophy to moderate betwixt me and sorrow. Phi­losophy telles mee that my friend was borne subiect to that fatall law of Nature, which as it allowes an en­trance into life; so it com­mands [Page 77] a departure out.

The earth neuer produced any thing that was not re­duced to that first, The first minute of [...]ife, wee march to meet death predomi­nant Element. The first minute of our life, wee lake our iourney towards death, which some finish in that minute, some in an houre, in a yeare some, and all once. Hee that endeth soonest his pilgrimage, is in my opinion most in grace with Proui­dence. As wee prize our meate, not according to the quantity, but the quality of it: so should we life; not ac­cording to the length, but the sweetnesse of the same.

Iupiter I haue often cal­led [...] [Page 80] port him, that his curses shall ayme at, though they cannot hit Iupiter. He will dare to say that the soule of his Loue grudged to leaue her body, as being loth to leaue a true heauen to goe to a sup­posed. Exclaime he will against death, and call for his fatall stroke, bidding death to be pittilesse towards him, since to her he was not pittifull. He will say that Nature, to auoide the impu­tation of a lyer, let death seize her, Nature hauing in her promised more to the World, then shee could performe. In con­tempt hee will mention the [Page 81] flinty wisedome of vs Cy­nicks, and sweare that wee are as void of vertues, as of affections▪ and by way of ar­gument will avouch, that no Vertue makes a man lose his vnderstanding. But were hee conuersant in our Schooles, hee should there learne that a man, A wise mā submits his minde to God, al o­ther things to his minde. who vn­derstands himselfe aright, will subiect his mind to God, all other things to his mind, and not lose his vnderstan­ding for the losse of a wo­man. Wee could teach him that they are fooles, who will not lay downe for their owne sake, the griefe which they haue taken for anothers.

[...] [Page 84] in thy brest, not in the field. It is not bloud, not famine, not warre that can bring peace to thine owne consci­ence. The felici­is false that depends on things externall. If on Externall things depend thine inward con­tent, with those externall things thy content will va­nish. If thy quiet of soule be procured by things with­out thee, Fortune (of these things the Mistresse) will command all the thoughts within thee. Thy mirth, and thy sadnesse shall bee at her appointment. Is there a beauty on which thy thoughts seede? That beau­ty she will blast. Is there an eie, the very thought [Page 85] whereof enlightens thy minde? That eye shall bee extinguisht. Lies all thy pleasures in thy possessions? Within one houre Fortune will lay all thy wealth in a­nothers lappe. Art thou now one of the earths migh­tiest Kings? Anon thou shalt be rancked amongst Slaues. Thus shall thy minde bee as changeable as is all mutable Fortune.

Liue then another while vnder the gouernmēt of Vertue, and belieue me (whom in al things thou seest to be aboue Fortune) that thy ioyes shal farre exceede the number of thy daies. But a subiect of [...] [Page 88] thy stomacke, not inflame thy blood. The fulnesse of wickednesse hath often fol­lowed repletion of the grape. If to liue ioyfully, and bles­sedly be thy wish, haue a care thy attendants be honest.

The com­pany of the honest to be imbra­ced. Honest they shall bee, if thou banish the vicious, and retaine the vertuous. In the flight of the one, villany and slauery will depart thy Court, and with the good that tarry with thee, good­nesse, and liberty will re­maine. It is better to haue one true, honest attendant, then a flocke of fooles, and knaues. Listen no longer to flatterers, whose soothings [Page 89] are pernicious. As a Wolfe is like a dogge, yet they are of farre different na­tures: so is a flatterer like a friend, though their intents bee diuers.

Suffer not Sycophants to perswade thee to the erecting of thy Statues, nor let Apelles drawe thee any more, but, that Cittie which thou mea­nest to grace with thine Image, there striue to make the memory of thee a Monument of Gentlenesse, of Mercie, of Iustice, of Liberali­tie.

[Page 90] As the Sun attends not on the prayers of mortals, but rises of his owne accord, shines freely, and is of all all-hailed: So neither do thou respect the praises, the ap­plauses, and inuocations of the people, but doe good free­ly, without solicitation; so shalt thou be as welcome to thy subiects, as is the Sun to Mortalitie. If thou beest not thus gracious, and thus good, thou art not worthy to be a Prince; and therefore resigne thine office to mee. I will make it manifest to thee, that a Philosopher can pre­uaile more with perswasion, then thou by violence. But [Page 91] me thinks I heare thy insolēt tongue bid mee betake my selfe to the gouernment of my Tubbe, the onely King­dome I was borne to. He is most miserable, that cānot gouerne his passiō and con­fine his d [...] sires. Mocke on, most miserable of mor­tals, who canst neither go­uerne thy passions, nor con­fine thy desires; Diogenes despises thy derision. This Caske I dwell in, is to my minde as ample, as all thy Dominions are to thine.

As hee that is borne in Persia, will not couet to liue in Greece, but in Persia set vp his rest: So I beeing born in Pouerty, with pouer­ty am contented, nor does my highest thought ayme at a­bundance. [...]

[Page 94] For Alexander to say he is better then Diogenes, because hee is richer, is as much, as if one horse should say to another, I am better then thou, because I haue more Prouender, more hay, and finer trappings: or as if one bird should say to another, I am to bee preferd before thee, be­cause I haue finer feathers and a neater nest.

As it is the swiftnesse of the wing, & the foote, which commends the Hawke and the Horse: so is it the quick­nesse of capacity that com­mends the man. In this ability of soule, if Alexan­der [Page 95] surpasse Diogenes,The abi­lity of soule, is that which commēds the man. A­lexander shall haue the vp­per hand. But in that, Di­ogenes cannot be excelled; and therefore will neuer yeild to Alexander the pre­cedency. Get thee gone then to those that worshippe thee as a God; for I thinke thee not a compleate man. Tell thy Idolaters, thou didst meet with a man that proo­ued himselfe happy, and thee miserable.

And if they aske thee who? Say it was Diogenes, who neither feared thee, nor Fortune. God and mine innocency protect mee a­gainst thee, and her. My [...] [Page 98] uours, The body is subiect to many inconueni­ences. to tyrants, to fire, to water, and to all things in strength aboue it; but no­thing is aboue the heauenly part, but heauen, and the al­mighty maker of all things, Iupiter. If then thou hast no­thing that can ennoble, and enrich my soule, keepe all to thy selfe; for concerning my body I am not solicitous. So base a thing is the body, that had not Nature giue to eue­ry man a selfe loue, each man would haue sought his owne destruction, rather then haue his soule dwell in so loath some a lodging. This he shall soone apprehend, that does but i­magine what a trouble, and [Page 99] vexation it would be vnto him for a week only to dresse, and mundifie any mans body but his owne. With what in­dignation he would rubbe anothers teeth, and cleanse other parts, which nature of necessity must foule. The loue we beare our selues, makes vs beare with our i [...]fir­mities. It is then the loue we beare our selues, which makes vs beare with our infirmities. If then it be true, that in our bodies we are subiect to so many disea­ses, to so many discōmodities; and that it is the diuine Mi­stresse of this clayie mansion that giues vs freedome, I wil seeke to polish and adorne the latter, but bestow little cost on the former. Why? this [...] [Page 102] Phylosopher,Diogenes had a grea­ter spirit then Alex­ander. whose mind was greater then the Mo­narks to whom his speech was directed. He that looks into their deaths (the one­ly touchstone to finde a counterfeit courage) shall see Diogenes die like a man, and great Alexander like a little child.

Hee that had made so many Natiōs patiently put on the yoake of seruitude, became himselfe such a slaue to feare, that hee sent to death all those that did but mention Augury,The super­stition of Alexander. and trembled at the whist­ling of the winds. Euery ordinary accident was to [Page 103] him ominous, and any noise he heard, he thought to be the voyce of death. His end was much like that of Lewis the 11.The ends of Alexan­der and of Lewis the eleuēth of France much a­like. of France, who in his latter daies suspected the faith of his old seruants, coo­ped himselfe vp in an Iron cage, & secluded himselfe frō all society. He gaue his Phisitian 10000. Crownes a moneth, to prolong his too well beloued life. He commanded the obserua­tion of solemne daies, fasts and prayers, not so much for the saluation of his soule, as for the preserua­tion of his putrified part: [...] [Page 106] not the eternity, yet it seemes that death was more afraid of him,Death was more a­fraid of Diogenes, then he of it. then he of it, in that hee was faine to seeke it. So some report, and that, by kee­ping in his breath, hee let out his Soule. Others (with more probability) denie that his death was violent, and describe the manner of it. By this lat­ter Narration wee shall learne, that though he lay­ed not violent hands on himselfe, yet hee shooke hands with death, and welcomed him as the on­ly Phisitiā that could cure him of all his aches. He [Page 107] cryed when he came into the world, because he was a child: but, being a man, he scornes to howle at his going out.

There was no more mo­tion, no more reluctation of Nature in his death, then in the sleep of others. A little before life left him, a short slumber vsherd death, out of which being awaked, his Phisitian as­ked him how he did, & en­quired whether or no his pain lessened;The admi­rable an­swer of Di­ogenes to [...] Physi­tion. to whom he answered, that anon it wold diminish; for hee had entertained the one bro­ther already, and loo­ked [...] [Page 110] tam stertere noctem,

Diogenes halfe asleepe, halfe awake, answered thus, ‘Qui popules moderatur, & ampla negotia tractat.’

This answere expressed to the full the worth, and office of Diogenes, who taught the people to o­bey, and Kings to rule aright.Their ver­tues com­pared. Alexander surpas­sed Diogenes in strength, wherein a horse surpasses Alexander; Diogenes ex­celled Alexander in know­ledge, wherein the gods excelled not Diogenes. Diogenes greater thē the gods he wor­shipped. He was, indeede, greater then the gods hee wor­shipped, [Page 111] who were of mortall race as hee was, and had not so much de­sert to claime a Deitie as he had. Alexander could not temper his passions, but in his anger put to death Philotas, and slew Clitus as braue a Soul­dier as himselfe, and all for remembring him, that hee was the sonne of Philip. Diogenes made his affections conforma­ble to his will, and his will to reason. Alexander sought to shun ineuita­ble death; Diogenes met it boldly. The Sunne in the space of twelue houres [...]