THE VA­NITEE OF THIS world.

ANNO. M. D. XLIX.

¶To the right woorship­full and my singuler good La­die, the Ladie Anne Herbert of Wil­ton.

BEyng persua­ded, that at this pre­sent the lyght of the trouthe dooeth more flourishe here amon­gest vs in Englande, than elswhere thoroughout the whole world, and seyng the fruite of our wor­kes rather to empayre than amende, mi­schiefe to grow and vertue to decaie, co­uetousenesse to reigne where godlinesse is professed, and of euerie other thyng the contrary to haue place, of that whi­che shoulde be auoyded: me seemed I could no lesse doe, than reason with my selfe, what all these thingꝭ shuld meane. And findyng in conclusion, that they, [Page] whiche knowe reason, can not yet rule theim selfes by reason: me thought it necessarie to publisshe vnto the worlde this little woorke, that I haue scraped out of the dust: Not thynkyng therby to obteine redresse of al men, but in hope that some vertuous myndes beholdyng here as in a glasse, the spottes of theyr owne vices, shall yet the rather bende theyr hertes towardes charitee and con­tempt of these worldely vanitees. And because I haue founde so muche negli­gence in man, that almost he deserueth not to be warned any more of his folie: therfore did I determine to dedicate my boke vnto a woman, to proue whether it maie take any roote in theim: to the entent that men ashamed, thorough the vertuouse examples of women, maie be prouoked therby to refourme theim sel­fes, whiche no kinde of admonicion can persuade theim to dooe. And findyng amongest women your Ladiship in ver­tue and bountee to excelle as the dya­mant [Page] amongest the iewelles, I thought it my duity to commende it specially vn­to you. Assuryng my selfe, that the wonderfull qualitees and modestee of your Ladiship shall be a no lesse terrour to theim, that viciousely would re­pugne this little worke, than the thyng it selfe shall be a per­suasion to others, that beyng well dispo­sed, maie ther­of take oc­casion to amende theyr lyfes.

¶Your Ladiships most humble seruaunt Wylliam Thomas.

¶The thynges that are conteigned in this booke.

  • THe folie of man.
  • That the pleasures of the bodie ought not to be folowed.
  • How abhominable the vice of glotonie is.
  • How abhominable also lecherie is.
  • That beautie is a vayne thyng.
  • That force and valiauntnesse is also vaine.
  • That richesse deserue not to be estemed.
  • That honour is not to be sought for.
  • That dominion ought not to be desired.
  • What a lawful lorde is.
  • The fondenesse of Alexander.
  • What a tyranne is.
  • That fame is a vaine thyng.
  • Conclusion of the humayne miserie and vanitee.
  • The opinion of Plato touchyng the blessed life.
  • God is onely good.
  • Christe is the waie, the veritee, and the life.
  • Christ coupleth man with God.
  • [Page]The life of Christ in this worlde.
  • Eternall life.
  • The knowlage of God.
  • Good woorkes are necessarie.
  • The testament of Christ.
  • The new commaundement comprehendeth the whole law.
  • The loue of God towardes vs.
  • What our mutuall loue ought to be.
  • The conclusion what our doynges ought to be.
FINIS.

THE FOLIE OF MAN.

CONSIDERYNG how we are created of two partes, that is to wete, of soule and of bodie, the one wherof is most noble, and the other most vile: thone celestiall, and thother terrestriall: the one eternall, and the o­ther mortall. Ought it not to be cal­led an expresse Folie, that we vniuersal­ly geuyng our selfes to the satisfaction and pleasure of this vile earthly & mor­tall part, doe no more regarde that whi­che is noble, celestiall and immortall, than as if we had nothyng to doe with­all? Truely, lyke as he deserueth not to be reputed wise, that appliyng all his studie to the trimmyng of his garmen­tes, suffreth his body to perishe for hun­ger and disease: Euin so nother ought he to be allowed, that folowyng the va­nitees of the bodie, habandoneth his soule: the bodie beyng none other but [Page] the apparaile to the soule, as the gar­mentes to the bodie. And well doe we deserue to be reputed vnwyse, whan (be­yng on the one parte conformable vnto brute beastes, and of the other syde par­takers of diuinitee) attendyng onely to the ornament of the earthly part, we do as muche as lieth in vs to transforme that diuinitee that we haue, into earth­linesse. Wherfore the prophete iustly saieth,

The man in honour comparyng his degree,
Seeth not how like vnto a brute beast is he.

For though we see this Folie to be eui­dent, yet the more part of vs continual­ly wrappe our selfes in it: because (of worldly wisedome) thei ar reputed most prudent, that most can fasten theim sel­fes therin. Of whiche our folie there is not one kinde alone, but many and di­uers, some moued through one opinion, and some through an other: some draw­en by one affection, & some by an other: alwaies bestowyng their study how best they maie please the bodie. For some apply theyr whole hert and minde to sa­tisfie the pleasures of theyr earthly sen­ses. Some other thynke the beautie or valiauntnesse of the body woorthy to be [Page] preferred before all other thinges: some attend onely to the getting and heaping vp of richesse. Some other esteeme no felicitee to be compared vnto the attei­gnyng of dignitees and honors: and ma­ny thinke lordshippe and dominion to be that onely felicitee▪ that none maie be greater or equal: and finally there wan­teth not also of theym, that settle all their desires to the gettyng of glory and fame. Unto the studie of whiche thyn­ges (if I be not deceiued) the most part of al liuing men haue bent their though­tes and trauailes. Wherfore examy­nyng theim by one and one, I determine nowe to see whether there be any thyng in any of theim, that shoulde cause vs thervpon so muche to fixe our desyres.

¶That the pleasures of the body oughe not to be folowed.

AS for the pleasure that trauai­leth our senses, is none other but a craftie flatterer, that with his faulse swetenesse, and with his feigned pleasauntnesse geueth to vnderstand the ill to be good, and the noysome to be pro­fitable. For that soule, whiche suffreth [Page] hir selfe to be tangled with the alluryn­ges of pleasure, muste needes at length fynde hir selfe captiue and thrall vnto the bodie: as the diuine Plato well re­herseth, saieyng, Pleasure lyke a driuen nayle fasteneth the soule to the bodie, and ioygneth it so harde together, that it ma­keth it become corporall. Wherof it fo­loweth, that she (the soule I saie) este­meth those thynges to be true, that the bodie presenteth vnto hir: and conse­quently delityng in that that the bodie deliteth, must nedes departe farre from euery high and honourable consideraci­on: as it semeth the good Romaine well vnderstode, who hauyng heard a philo­sopher of Athenes saie, that euery thing ought to be doen to thentent to atteigne pleasure, praied god to geue that opini­on vnto Pyrrhus and to the Samnites (than enemies to the Romaine people) thynkyng by that meane, the Romains shoulde easily atteigne victorie against theim, as by the exaumple of Anniball it did well appeare,

To whom the pleasures of Capua were more noysome,
Than were the battailes of Trasimene and Cannas to Rome.

[Page] Wherfore not without cause did the ci­tee of Sparta longe tyme withhold the eies of hir citisins farre from the deli­ces of Asia: and Scipio Emilius (sent into Spaine) incontinently as he arri­ued at the armie, commaunded that all those thynges, whiche serued the army for pleasure, shoulde immediately be ta­ken awaie. For the whiche bothe the Lacedemoniens and Scipio deserued no lesse commendacion, than Xerxes mea­rited blame in rewardyng theym that were new inuentours of deliciouse thin­ges, and so did Tyberius themperour in erectyng a new office ouer the pleasures in Rome. But what woordes maie be sufficient woorthily to derect the vile­nesse of Aristippus? Who beyng nouris­shed with moste holie erudicion in the schole of Socrates, (onely to atteigne pleasure) disposed hym selfe to liue in the court of Denys the tyranne, suppor­tyng to be spitted on, and a thousande other villainies, whiche he regarded not as longe as he myght with pleasure fill his bealy. And therfore did Diogenes woorthily call hym the kynges dogge: For though he had called hym the kyn­ges swyne, me seemeth he shoulbe haue dooen him no great wronge. And lyke [Page] as this mans life (of all men of good o­pinion) deserueth reproche, euin so the sentence of Epicure (who otherwise had ben a verie commendable man) maie ra­ther a great deale be folowed than de­fended: in that he saied, he knewe not how to finde any pleasant thyng, if the taste of meates and the vse of venereall thynges were taken awaie.

¶How abhominable the vice of glotonie is.

TOuchyng the fyrst wherof (which is the pleasure in eatyng and drin­kyng) I can not see what greatter enemie nature maie haue. For wheras she hath geuen vs appetite to conserue our lifes withall, we contrariwyse liue onely to serue our appetites, as it doeth well appeare by the deserued rewarde that foloweth therof vnto theim, that with delicate meates and drinkes spend theyr lyues. For they in maner enioie nothyng of that taste that nature hath graunted vs, whan in steede of appetite that shulde call theim to their meates, thei are faine a thousande waies to de­uise how thei maie gette theim selfes an appetite▪ and so doe lacke the true plea­sure and swetenesse of that, wherin thei [Page] most delite. Truely, better sauour did Persians fynde in theyr Nasturtio (a grosse meate that they vsed) than euer did Marke Antonie, or Cleopatra, in theyr moste sumptuouse and prodigall bankettes, or than euer didde Uitellius amongest all the sauourye delycacyes brought hym from so many countreis, and beyonde so many seas. And ther­fore muche commendable was the aun­sweare of Alexander vnto the queene of Caria, who daiely sente hym exquisite meates diligently dressed: beyng this, That his cookes were better than hirs to make his meate sauourie, meanyng his trauaile by nyght that made hym dyne well, and his sobre diner that made him to suppe well. Artaxerxes, brother vn­to Cyrus, hauyng lost his prouision in a certeine discoumfiture, was constrei­gned to eate barly bread and dried fig­ges for verie hunger, whiche so muche pleased hym, that he saied: O what a pleasure is this, that I neuer tasted the like before? Wherfore I conclude it to be muche superfluouse the studie and se­kyng for the varietee or deintethnesse of meates: seyng the delite of the taste con­sisteth not in the qualitees of thē, but in [Page] the appetite of the man. Besydes that the true waie, longe to enioie a pleasant taste, is a sobre life: For who otherwise dooeth seeke it, thynkyng to satisfie him selfe, hyndreth surelie the longe tyme that he myght els enioie: nothyng in this worlde being a greatter shortner of mans life thā the pleasing of the mouth, whiche bringeth hym to a thousande in­fyrmitees, the most greuouse that man maie haue. And what other waie is there that can so soone consume our sub­staunce and patrimonies? what thyng can so soone take from vs our senses and vnderstandyng? what thyng is more apte to make vs disclose our secretes? And is there any other, that so prompt­ly bringeth vs in sklaunder and quarel­les as it? No surely: and therfore saith the prophete Esaie well: Wo bee to theim that rise early to go to the tauernes. Esaie. 5. Lyke as in the gospell it is written, that the riche man (who before had liued de­liciousely) liftyng vp his eies from hell,Luc. 16. desired Lazarus (that before died at his dore for hunger) to descende out of the boasome of Abraham to refreshe him in his burnyng heate.

¶How abhominable Lecherie is.

BUt to come vnto thother pleasure, that Epicure esteemeth to consist in carnall copulacion, the same is cal­led of Plato a vehement and furiouse pleasure. And before hym Sophocles the Poete hadde named it a fierse and a cruell tyranne: not without good cause. For this furie obteigneth no sooner the dominion ouer mans minde, but that it so doeth rauishe him, that skarcely may he attend to any other thyng: & though well he happen to fynde his owne er­rour, yet for all that, ceaseth he not to folow it.

He seeth the better, but hym nothyng it dooeth preuaile,
For folowyng the woorse he sheweth hym selfe al fraile.

And what other affection hath there ben seen, that euer hath brought man and woman to so headlong entreprises, to so perillous workes, & to so wicked dedes, as this? Truely (as I beleue) none. For this enduced Semiramis to the vn­laufull embracinges of hir owne sonne. And this made Artaxerxes vnto .ccclx. [Page] women that he kepte, to ioygne in the noumbre of his concubines .ii. of his owne daughters. What shall I saie of Euridice, Queene of Macedonie, that to geue hir realme vnto an adoulterer, poysoned hir owne soonnes? What of Cambises, and of Caligula, that viola­ted theyr owne systers? I woull not speake of the vnnaturall vse of Tyberi­us: and woull also passe ouer in silence the abhominacion of Nero, of Helioga­balus, & of other Romaine emperours, whose vices to remembre maketh me to abhorre the rehersall of theyr names. Yet will I not forgette Ruben and Ab­salon, that shamed not to couple with their fathers women. But he that woul well vnderstande, how venemouse a pe­stilence this furie is, let him behold Sa­lomon (the lyght of sapience) who ha­uyng, DCC. wyfes, and .CCC. concu­bines, ouercomen of rage, suffered hym selfe to fall from the true god, and to be ledde into idolatrie, I forbeare the most filthie examples, wherof the holie scri­ptures are no lesse full then the profane: and wyll onely reherse the vnbrideled appetite of theim that haue been endu­ced to embrace and to vse the dead car­casses: [Page] whiche both in the auncient and also in the later memories are euident, besides that I coulde reken

How Pasiphe so foule applied hir beastly wit,
That in a cowes hyde to a bull hir selfe she knitte.

Whiche I saie not to geue auctoritee withall vnto the fable, but vnder this fable to saie, that peraduenture in these our daies there haue been knowen more than one of suche exaumples, no lesse foule, odious and abhominable then the filthie vice is wherof thei procede: whi­che being so abhominable as it is, is many tymes cruelly auenged with iust do­lour. For there is no iniurie so bitter, nor none that so promptely moueth the people vnto armes against the bloudde and agaynst the lyfe not onelie of the meane sort, but also many times of their owne soueraigne lordes. Rome neuer refused the yoke of tyrannie till the vi­olatyng of Lucrece: and the tenne ru­lers were susteigned vntill that the cha­stitee of Uirginia was tempted. Shall I saie that the force vsed against Pau­sania caused the death of kyng Philip? yea and more, many times not onely the [Page] iniuries, but false suspiciōs haue caused subiectes to take the weapon in hand a­gainst their princes, as it is redde of Ip­poclo kyng of Chii, and of a noumbre of others. And what cruell vengeaunces doe we read in the scriptures, that haue folowed for this vice? Besides the ge­neral floud that destroied all the world, and the .v. citees consumed with cele­stiall fyre. Was not the defilyng of Di­na daughter of Iacob, occasion, that all the men of Salen were hewen to pee­ces? and for the violence dooen to the wyfe of the leuite, was not the tribe of Beniamin brought to destruction? And of late daies for their disordinate life in this vice, were not all the frenchemen in Sicile slaine at the ringyng of the e­uensonge bell? wherof yet remaigneth the prouerbe of the Sicilian euensonge. We therfore seyng how muche this vice is foule, perillous, and damnable, ought by so muche the rather with reason to refreigne and gouerne our appetites: like as the holie ghoste by the prophete dooeth admonisshe vs,

Be not as horse or moyses without intelli­gence.
Psal. 31.
That by bitte and bridle are broughte to o­bedience.

[Page] For the nature of this plage vnto our soules is suche, that we nother delite in the passed pleasure, nor yet can be satis­fied with the present: and that whiche we loke for tourmenteth vs still: so that I can not see, why it ought not more to be abhorred than desyred. And seeyng bothe this and all other corporall plea­sures to be short and vaine, whiche also doe let and remoue our soules from ver­tuouse and laudable woorkes, and from our health: reason woulde, we shoulde not suffre our most noble soules by those meanes to be made subiectes vnto our most vile bodies: beyng assured, that in our images created to the lykenesse of god, we are celestial and immortal crea­tures, wheras in our mortal images we are no better than wourmes fode.

¶That Beautie is a vaine thyng.

AS for our bodily beautie I see no cause that shoulde moue vs ther­on to ground our thoughtes. Nor I woull not now goe about to declare▪ how Plato doeth call vs from the beau­tie of our bodies, to the beautie of our myndes. But is there any thyng in it other than as the pleasantnesse of a new [Page] floure, that beyng fresshe and fayre in the mornyng, sheweth it selfe at nyght all pale and wythered? the smothe and tender skynne becometh wrinkeled and lothesome: the lyght of the sparklyng lookes become darke, the aborne or gol­den heare either forsake vs, or become hore: the ruddie lyres of the younge fa­ces become pale and ill coloured, the tender beardes become crespie, and the vpright persones become arches. So that vnto them that in the fondenesse of theyr beautie haue ouer muche delited, there resteth none other but a certaine bitter memorie, that maketh theim to saie with the Poete,

Werie that I am, helas what was I? And this is it that so muche causeth the saieyng of Lais the harlotte to be com­mended, in that she consecrated hir lo­kyng glasse vnto Uenus: because she woulde not see hir presente astate, and what she had been she coulde not see. Wherfore seeyng beautie to be so vaine and transitoriouse a thyng, the persons of moste liuely spyrite haue verie little estemed it. Spurina feared not to man­gle hir visage, therby to auoyde suspi­cion of adoultrie. And Zopyrus, for [Page] the seruice of his maister, kyng Darius▪ cutte of his owne nose and eares.

¶That force and valiauntnesse is vayne.

THe lyke whereof (that hath been spoken by beautie) maie also be saied by force, and by thother pro­speritees of the body. For though king Lisimacus slew the Lyon, yet was not his honor so great therfore as his blame was, in that at the instaunce of Arsinoe he poysoned his owne sonne Agatocles, a valiaunt younge man, whom he alrea­die had ordeined to be his successour in the realme: and through whose vertue he had atchieued many victories. But beholde, he that had ouercomen a Lyon▪ was ouercome of a woman. And al­though Maximinus the emperour was so stronge and deliuer of hym selfe, that he ouerthrew all that euer wold wrastle with him, that he wold tire any horse in rennyng, and doe a thousande other fea­tes in such wise that he purchaced ther­by the surname of Milo: yet was his gouerne so ill, that he and his son bothe were slain of his owne souldiours, with [Page] that celebrated rumour, that pitie it were any one dogge shoulde liue of an ill litter. And had it not been better for hym, to haue been lesse stronge and cruell, and more iust and quiete, that he & his might haue enioied the Romaine empire? But neither his force, nor yet his allectorie (a iewell that is reputed to geue victo­rie) through whiche he had atteigned so many victories, could defende him from the handes of his owne men, as the sai­yng of the prophete verifieth,

Neuer deliuered shal be the puissaunt,
For his greatnesse, be he euer so valiaunt.

So that me semeth, I may wel cōclude, that neither in beautie, nor in force, nor yet in any other prosperitee, man ought to put his felicitee: because they are all subiectes vnto time, vnto infirmitee and to a thousande other mischiefes. Besy­des that there be diuers brute beastes, that in diuers kyndes excede man in the excellence of giftes of theyr bodies, the egle and the harte are quicker of syght: the wilde bore and the mole are subtil­ler of hearyng: the dogge and the gripe smell farther of a great deale: and ma­ny beastes there be that liue longer then man: and many that are more lyght, [Page] more stronger and more galiarde than he. Wherfore we ought not to put so muche of our felicitee in any kynde of our owne corporall force.

¶That riches deserue not to be esteemed.

BUt come we now vnto richesse, the thing vniuersally so muche desired and holden so deare: though in ve­rie deede it neither deserueth so to be de­syred▪ nor yet is woorthie to be made so much of as it is, because that being sub­iect vnto the power of variable fortune: our thoughtes (how muche so euer thei be enclined) can not be surely stayed in theim. For theyr propretee is suche, that who so spendeth thē, can not haue them▪ and who that kepeth theim vnspent, en­ioyeth theim not: and yet dooe we geue our selfes so muche to the gettyng of theim, that some cease not to wade tho­rough the large seas enuironned on all sydes with death, now into the east, and now into the weast, and many times in­to the new world, to become riche. Some other, not contented with the haboun­daunce of those fruites, that our mother the earthe dooeth bringe foorthe vnto [Page] our vse, forbeare not to entre into it, ser­chyng the secrete veynes therof to gette out the golde and siluer, with the other metalles. Some other thinke it no peine to weare harneyse, to suffer hunger and thyrste, heate and colde, to lie and slepe on the bare earthe, and to putte also his life in continuall aduenture for the one­ly hope of a faire daie, to make him selfe riche with other mens gooddes. Some other bestowe all theyr lyues in theyr countyng houses, imagenyng how they maie best gaine (be it lawfull or vnlaw­full they passe not) and many of theim can not be restreigned neitherby the law of god, nor yet of man, but that thei will laie out theyr money to vsurie. Some other kepe open shoppes of ghostly thin­ges, sellyng not onely the thynges that ought not to be solde: but also those that are impossible to be bought. And final­ly noumbres there be, that bestow theyr labour in most vile and dishonest exer­cises, onely to thentent to become riche. For there is not so mischieuouse nor so vile a thing in all this world to be doen▪ as men for the gaine of money woul not offre theim selfes to dooe. Whiche cau­sed the great disciple of Socrates to say, [Page] that there was nothing in this world more perniciouse than golde and siluer, as the holy scriptures in the Ecclesiastes dooe testifie.Eccle. 10▪ There is nothyng more mischi­uous than a couetous man, whither moun­test thou in pride thou earth and asses? There is nothyng more wicked than the loue of money. For who loueth it, sel­leth his owne soule. And he that woull see plentie of examples of the naughti­nesse and mischiefes, that through this blinde couetousenesse haue ben commit­ted: let him call to mind the histories of the Romaine emperours, in the whiche he shall see the re [...]raite of all filthinesse. There shall he see, how for euery lyght accusa [...]ion princes gooddes in maner of all partes of the world were confiscate: and that the kinges, who yelded thē sel­fes vnder their obedience, if thei brought any treasures with theim, lost not onely theyr treasures, but theyr lifes withall. If by theyr testamentes they had made any other heyres to theyr realmes, or to theyr richesse▪ thei brake those testamen­tes. And if by theyr testamentes they had ordeined the emperours to be theyr heyres, liuyng to recouer health, the em­perours would cause theim to be slaine. [Page] They spoyled the temples, and defaced the images of theyr owne goddes made of golde or siluer: they helde open mar­ket of other mens lifes, and also of their owne iustice: And finally there was no­thyng (how shamefull so euer it were) that they would forbeare to doe for mo­ney. Yea and not so much as the princes of the people of god, but that they haue been corrupted with the lyke iniquitee. For the children of Samuel, leauyng the fathers steppes, peruerted their own iudgementes for couetousenesse. Like as the kynge Acab caused Nabot to be slaine, to haue his goodes. And Saul, against the speciall commaundement of god, saued the heardes of the Amalechi­tes: wherof there folowed vpon him the losse of his reigne▪ with possession of the wicked spyrite. It should be all to long to reherse the notable examples contei­gned in the auncient histories, of the de­testable woorkes that men haue attem­pted through the vnsaciable thyrste for golde. And yet one shall I recite hap­ned of later tyme.

¶Maomada the Moore kyng of Gra­nata, beyng in the warres persecuted by other Moores, made his recourse for [Page] succour vnto kynge Peter of Castiglia, and commyng vnto hym, brought with hym a great quantitee of treasure, whi­che treasure, so muche tempted the kyng Peter, that he not onely toke it from the Moore, but also caused him to die of the shotre of arrowes: and was the fyrste hym selfe that shotte at hym. Wher­of the miserable kynge woorthily repro­ued hym, saiyng, that shamefully vio­latyng his owne faieth against all law of humanitee and nature, he triumphed ouer a kyng that had put hym selfe into his handes. These be the fruites that growe vpon the ill graffe of the gredie desyre to haue. And yet is there nothing to be had, but that whiche God promy­seth by the mouthe of his prophete Ie­remie: That the gooddes of couetouse men shall not be enioied of their owne hei­res:Ierem. Whiche me seemeth that Dauid dooeth also verifie, in saiyng: He gathe­reth treasures, and woteth not for whom. Psal. 38. Wherfore to conclude, what this vice is, me seemeth it to be none other, but a certaine dropsie of the mynde: For like as he that is infected with the dropsie, the more he drinketh, the more is his thyrste, euin so the couetouse man, the [Page] more he getteth▪ the more is his desyre. Whiche is confyrmed by the saiyng of Ecclesiastes, that who loueth money can neuer be satisfied. Eccle. 5. And further this ap­petite hath suche a propretee withall▪ that the elder we waxe, the yonger doth it grow in vs: & the lesse nede we haue, the more gredie we be.

¶That honour is not to be sought for.

BUt what shall I saie of them, that feede vpon the winde of ambicion? Truely none other, but that they whiche be moste ambiciouse, and moste deligent in purchasyng of honours and other dignitees, they are least woorthy to haue them. For (according to the sai­yng of Plato) the good shippemaisters ought to be sought for, and praied to go­uerne the shippes, rather than thei shulde seeke to be receiued. And lyke as it is meeter, that the diseased seke to the phi­sician for counsaile, than that the phisi­cian shuld go about to seke for the sicke: Euin so, he that knoweth him selfe apte vnto magistrate, dignitee or office, shuld rather abyde till he be called therunto, than to seeke for theim hym selfe: and [Page] reason woulde, that he shulde be sought vnto, desyred and praied: as Paulus E­milius declared well, whan beyng ele­cted consull against Persa kyng of Ma­cedonie, in stede of thankyng the people, saied, that he accepted that office for their benefite, and therefore entended not to thanke theim. for if they knewe any man meeter vnto that entreprise than he, he prayed theim not to spare theyr newe ele­ction, and he gladlie shoulde be contented to forgoe the charge therof: by reason of whiche offre he was the more honoura­blie confyrmed in that Consulate. Ne­uerthelesse, offices maie be wel and wor­thily sued for▪ as often as the sutour de­fyreth that office for the benefite of a commen wealth, and not of hym selfe. The example wherof hath ben well seen in the olde Cato, who (coueryng to be Censor, and hauyng many concorrentes that desyred the same) in steede of the flatery and praiers that the others vsed, saied to the people: This people hath nede of a seuere phisicion to geue theim a stronge purgacion: and because I am such a one, as can minister it accordyngly, ther­fore geue it me: and so with seueritee ob­teined that, whiche other men by flate­rie [Page] and friendship trauailed for. This kynde of requiring and receiuyng of of­fices and dignitees, are commendable and woorthy, wheras the more part of vs prouoked of our owne peruerse opini­ons, entreate, praie, and almoste begge for it: one while of the prince, and an o­ther of the people. And many tymes the princes either for bribes, or through affection, geue those offices and digni­tees, not to theim that deserue and are woorthy of theim, but to suche as are most agreable vnto theyr appetites: like as the people (who Plato compareth to a great beast) furiously without discre­cion grant their fauours here and there, wherof it foloweth, that oftentymes, whan we thinke to be honoured and ex­alted, with shame and reproche we finde our selfes ouerthrowen. Yea and how many times haue the people dooen their best to put theim vnto rebuke, that haue been woorthy men? The histories de­clare euidently the repulses geuen by the people of Rome vnto the Tubero­nes, to the Metelli, the Emilii, the Sci­pions, the Marii, and the Catones, and not yet contented with those repulses, howe manie of the moste noble citisins [Page] haue the wicked people ben accustomed to hate and persecute? Did not the Ro­maines banisshe the great Camillus? Didde they not expell Cicero, father of theyr countrey and of eloquence? Did not bothe the famous and worthy Sci­pions Nasica and Africanus, die bani­shed in exile? And the Atheniens also were no lesse vncurteise towardes the rareste of theyr commen wealthe, for they made the worthy Miltiades to die in prison, and banisshed the wyse The­mistocles, the liberall Cimon, and the iust Aristides out of theyr citee. The like wherof hath happened in all other commen wealthes, as well auncient as present. And why shoulde they not? hauing the examples of the grauest Ro­maines and of the best learned Atheni­ens before theim? As for princes, that exalte the vnwoorthy and suppresse the vertuouse, because there are so many ex­amples seen of it daily, I shall not nede to reherse the auctoritee of the histories therunto, but this woulle I saie, that neither the princes, nor yet the commen wealthes, can dishonour the vertuouse by not exaltyng theim vnto the degrees of honour, rather in not callyng theim, [Page] thei dishonour theim selfes and the pla­ces also, in whiche they create the vn­woorthy men. For (as Plato saieth) he that is woorthie of an office or digni­tee, is officer and of dignitee in dede, and not he whom fauour or fortune graun­teth it vnto. And therfore I saie, vaine is their enterprise, that in sekyng of di­gnitees and offices consume theyr lifes. For if thei would consider what I haue saied, and what the places of honour be, and that the honour and reuerence, whi­che is vsed, is dooen more to the place than to the person, sittyng there in ma­ner as the countrefaict dooeth in an en­terlude, perchaunce many there be, that woulde eschewe the vanitee therof, whi­che now pursue it withall theyr power. But this pestilence is so great, that not the temporall but the spiritual haue ben tempted withall, insomuche that Christ hym selfe hath been sued vnto for the sit­tyng on his right and lefte hande in his kyngdome:Luc. 20. Mar. 10 and lyke as he answered▪ that thei wist not what thei asked: so maie we saie vnto our selfes, that seekyng de­grees and honors (whiche can not long endure) we seeke we wote not what.

¶That dominion ought not to be desired.

LOrdship surelie in apparaunce is a goodly thyng, to the eie onely, that seeth no more but the outward par­tes therof. But he that woull pene­trate further, shall perchaunce see, that within foorth it is all an other mattier. And to treate iustlie therof it behoueth vs fyrst diligently to consider, that there bee two kyndes of lordes, the lawfull and the tyranne.

¶What a lawfull lorde is.

IF he be a lawfull lorde, it behoueth him principallie to thinke, that he is ordeyned of God ouer his people as his lieutenaunt, to gouerne them and to kepe theim in lyke maner, as he gouer­neth and preserueth the whole worlde: and ought to knowe, that those people are none of his, nor prepared for his pro­fite, but rather that he is geuen vnto theim as a minister, as Paule saieth to the Romaines. The prince is gods mi­nister vnto men for their wealth, Rom. 13. and is a minister to auenge with wrath the ill wor­kes [Page] of the wicked: by reason wherof he ought not to haue regard vnto his owne interest, but to the wealth and benefite of them that are cōmitted to his charge. His office is to prouide, that they maie well and honestly lyue: He muste kepe them from the assault and violence of straungers: It apperteigneth vnto him, to kepe them in peace and concorde: he ought to determine their causes with iustice, seyng that eche man maie haue his owne, with chastisyng the ill, and rewardyng and honoryng the good: he muste ordeine iudges and magistrates, not for money, for ambicion, or for affe­ction, but accordyng to theyr woorthi­nesse and merites, and ought to cōmitte that charge vnto euerie man, that the appoincted man is moste apte to entre­prise. And wheather it be in peace or in warre, openly or priuilie, speakyng or doyng, alwaies it shalbe necessarie for hym to folowe the lawes, and not to de­parte from theim, but to be an executour of them. For (as Plato saieth) he that gouerneth accordyng to the lawes, is tru­lie a kyng and a lawfull lorde. And he that departeth from them (as the same Pla­to affirmeth) is a tyranne. But admitte [Page] Plato were not a sufficient aucthor vnto this sentēce, Moyses him selfe, speaking of the institucion of a kynge saieth, that he ought to be with the law, and to reade in it all the daies of his life: to the ende that he learne how to feare his lord God, how to kepe the woordes of his law, and the constitucion of the same, and how to put it in execucion. And besides that Samuel hauyng annoyncted Saul, and made him kynge of Israell, wrote the lawe that he ought to obserue in a boke, and set it in the sight of God. Nowe if this be the right office of a lorde, wherof groweth this great desire of dominion, seyng that the lorde ought to be subiect vnto them that seme subiectes vnto him? and that for the great businesse thereof he can skarcely finde leysure to slepe? Many times reasoning with my selfe a­bout these thynges, and callyng to re­membrance Alexander (whō the worlde hath surnamed the great, and in whom by all likelihode there haue been diuers great giftes of actiuitee) me seemeth he wanted the principallest condicion that belonged to a kyng. Whiche is, that he knew not what was the office of a king. For whan he had vainely conceiued in [Page] his minde an opinion to conquere all the worlde, he saied on a tyme, Whan we haue gotten this worlde, what shall we than dooe?Fonde Alexan­der. O vaine and foolishe Alex­ander▪ what aduailed it the to haue had Aristotle to thy maister, if thou haue not learned how to finde a dooe, whan well thou were lorde of all the worlde? what other shouldest thou haue dooen, than rule it and gouerne it well? Uerily thou haddest been more woorthy to haue been called kynge, if thou haddest taried at home, and gouerned well thyne owne, than for all thy conquestes in vsurpyng vpon others: & better it had ben for the, to haue knowen how to haue gouerned thy selfe, and to haue eschewed wine and ambicion, than to file thy handes with the bloud of thy deerest and most faieth­full friendes, or to suffre thy selfe to be called kyng of the worlde, or euer thou hadst gotten a small parte therof: per­suadyng the people furthermore, that thou wast the sonne of god. But leaue we now the foolishe Alexander, who ra­ther hath merited the name of tyranne than of kynge, and let vs come to con­clude of the lawfull lorde, that seeyng his office to bee suche, as here before I [Page] haue rehersed, and as it is in deede, I can not see any thyng therin, that shulde geue man cause muche to desyre it. For a more easie thyng it is a great deale to be gouerned, than pleasaunt to gouerne others.

¶What a tyranne is.

ANd now that I haue declared▪ what a lawfull lorde ought to be, it maie easily be considered, what a tyranne is, and in few woordes to de­scriue hym

He that maketh his wil a law, and for hym selfe woorketh al,
A tyranne (I saie) and not a prince you maie hym cal.

And lyke as these kynde of men, appea­ryng gloriousely to the sight, accompa­nied and enuironned of a numbre of gen­tilmen and ministers that folow theim and serue theim, doe represent a certaine outwarde similitude of felicitee: Euin so inwardely they are on the tother syde turmented with corsies and passions of the minde, that nother theyr gardes, nor theyr armures can defende theyr ill con­sciences [Page] from the infernall furies. Thei neuer haue good time nor rest. In com­pany of theyr owne wyfes (whiche is wont to be most comfortable vnto man) they haue almost no ioie, and amongest theyr owne children (wherin man shuld reioice) they seeme to be amonge theyr enemies. Of the sweete fruite of friend­ship they neuer taste, because that not findyng in theyr owne hertes to loue a­ny man, they can not conceiue how any man should loue them againe. If they eate or drinke, they feare poyson: If they slepe, thei dreame of armes, bloud, persecucion and death: and continually suspect that, whiche they know theim selfes woorthy to haue, and are a fearde of as many as be theyr subiectes. Wher­of it foloweth, that they trust no man. And some there haue been, that woulde neuer goe to bedde with theyr owne wy­fes, but that thei would fyrst serche the chamber, wheather there were any bo­dy hidde, and sometyme serche the verie clothes of the bedde for feare of knifes, and many of theim woulde cause mens beardes & theyr owne daughters heare, for dreade of lyke foolisshenesse to be cut of. Amongest all other Charles the .vii. [Page] frenche king, fearing to be poysoned, re­sted certaine daies without takyng any meate, wherof he sickened: and so thin­kyng to flee death, fell into it. But to passe ouer the rehersal of the violent and shamefull endes, that numbres of them haue made in all ages and in all naci­ons, I conclude, that there is none astate so vnhappy as that of tyrannes, who ei­ther must liue miserablie, or die sklaun­derfully. I forbeare to reken vppe the troubles that thei haue (be thei lawfull lordes or tyrannes) in theyr daiely war­res, the losse of theyr men, the destructi­on of their citees, the spoyle of their coū ­treis, the discoumfiture of theyr armies, theyr owne captiuitee, and a thousande other aduersitees, that are commenlie seen. So that in effect lordship is more bitter than sweete, and consequently a thyng not to be desyred. And though well all the sweetenesse of the worlde were to be founde therin, yet ought we not therin to put the ende of our desires. For (as the apostle Iames saieth) Our life is none other but a vapour, Iac. 4. whiche ap­peareth a little while, and incontinently is dissolued.

¶That fame is a vaine thyng.

ANd as for glorie and fame, it is true that it semeth euery man, as he is more excellent of spyrite, the more doeth he desyre it: whiche is clere­ly seen in euery studie and in euery arte, as well in armes as in learning, as well in peincture as in grauyng, bothe in the handicraftes, and also in housbandrie, in all trauailes, in all peines, and in all perilles, it seemeth none other sauour to be so sweete, as the hope to atteigne glo­rie therof. Yea and further, this de­syre is so farre entred into our myndes, that they whiche write bookes in dis­praise of glorie, purtyng to theyr names, seeke that whiche they persuade other men to auoyde. And this was it that moued Alexander before the tombe of Achilles to sighe and saie,

Happie wast thou Achilles suche grace to fynde,
As the verse of Homer to kepe thyne actes in mynde.

And the same was it that moued Iuli­us Caesar at the sight of the image of A­lexander [Page] to sighe, because at that age that Alexander had doen so many thyn­ges, he yet had dooen nothyng woorthy of memorie. The lyke of whiche thyng that hapned vnto Caesar of Alexander, happened also to Themistocles of Mil­tiades, whose tropheys (notable mar­kes of passed victories) woulde not suf­fer hym to slepe. And lyke as Alexan­der for the desyre of glorie was liberall vnto writers, euin so was Caesar dili­gent in writyng his owne commenta­ries, to helpe theim that woulde write of hym. And Themistocles saied, that he coulde heare no sweeter voice than of theim that shoulde syng his owne prai­ses. Some moued through this desyre haue builded citees, and called them af­ter theyr owne names: some haue made theim goodly houses, with puttyng vn­to theim lykewise the titles of theyr na­mes: some haue sette vp goodly sepultu­res, and some goodly images, thynkyng to make theim selfes therwith perpetu­all. But what is all this, in respect of the life it selfe, whiche many men haue spente onely for loue of this glorie and fame. For examples wherof I coulde reken vp noumbres of men, that who by [Page] one waie and who by an other, haue dis­posed theim selfes vnto wilfull death. And amongest all other,

Empedocles in hope to deifie his name,
Threw hym selfe quicke into Ethnas flame.

But what folowed therof? In stede of the godhead that he presupposed should haue folowed, he hath left behynde hym a notable memorie of his folie. And yet not contented with this, there haue been some, that with their naughty and wic­ked dooynges haue sought to purchace immortalitee vnto their names: as Cali­gula, seeyng nothyng woorthie wherof there shoulde remayne any memorie of hym, wisshed, that in his tyme there myghte some notable [...]uyne happen, that shoulde geue men cause to reherse his name. And the emperour Adrian caused those to be slayne, that he myght here shoulde excell him in any thyng, to the entent he myght remayne as most excellent of his tyme. Besides this, there haue been temples burned, and other fouler thynges dooen onely for the desire of fame, whiche to recyte here shoulde be bothe to longe and also to o­diouse. In effect the prouocacion of this desire is suche, that like as in commen­dable [Page] thynges it maketh men hardie, euen so in dishonest thynges it maketh theim desperate. Wherfore I shall not neede to perswade, how muche vanitee is therin. And yet whan I consider, how the learned men compare the earth vnto the firmament, as a small poincte almoste inuisible: I can not chose but aske, wheather our fame can passe the termes of this poinct or not? I beleue no. Or rather I beleue, that it can not extende to the full termes therof: be­cause the more parte of this poincte is occupied of waters: and of that parte that yet remaineth drie, no small porci­on is without habitacion. Because the heauens dooe not allowe the sites therof to susteygne man, either for the extreme heate, or for the extreme colde, besides the numbres of desertes that are occupied with wilde beastes: In suche wise that of this poinct there resteth a small parte inhabited. And yet for all that the same small parte is deuyded into so many nacions, that I thynke there be no one nacion, that knoweth all the rest, nor that is knowen vnto all the rest. Furthermore the tonges be so di­uers, that I doubt wheater there be so [Page] many diuers kyndes of beastes, as there be langages of men. Besides that, the cu­stomes of coūtreis do so much vary, that the thyng whiche is commendable one where, is not allowable an other where. And what shall I saie than to theim, that (vnderstanding one tonge) are very few of a whole nacion that can skylle of the memorie of antiquitees? or to whose eares the notable auncient thynges are rehersed? All whiche thynges consi­dered, I rest in maner astonied with my selfe, to thynke how after the diuision of this poynct, the fame of the moste fa­mouse hath hir feathers so clipped, that hir whynges woull not beare hir to flie through a small parte of the inhabi­tauntes of the least poynct of that other poinct. And then if we woull consider, howe our fame can haue no place in any parte of the tyme passed, and than re­membre againe, that noumbres of fa­mouse men, whiche haue been in the old worldes, are now cleane forgotten, the lyke wherof maie happen vnto vs: I thynke, though well we were assured, that our fame shoulde dure to the worl­des ende, we shoulde not yet settle our felicitee therin. For a thousande yeres [Page] in respect of the eterni [...]ee is as the twin­klyng of an eie. It is written, that nere vnto the riuer Hypa [...]s there brede cer­taine little beastes, whiche liue but one daie, and yet I saie theyr life hath more proporcion towardes the whole tyme of the worlde, than our fame maie haue towardes the eternitee. And here in earth we can hope to haue none eterni­tee, because as the apostle Peter affyr­meth, the elementes shall be destroied by fyre, and the earthe withall that is conteined in hir, shall with fyre be con­sumed. And finally, if it were possible the earth shoulde endure for euer, and our fame spreade thoroughe the whole worlde likewyse immortall, what were we the better? Or what could we (from whom all feelyng is vtterly taken) en­ioie therof?

¶Conclusion of the humaine mi­serie and vanitee.

COnclude therfore, that there is ve­rie little felicitee or stedfastnesse to be founde in these thynges, wher­in the most of vs vse to fixe our myndes, and to applie our trauaile. For euident [Page] it is, that our studies in this behalfe are none other than expresse vanitees and folie. And therfore saieth the prohete,

The astate of man is none other than vanitee plaine,
For he consumeth his life in thoughtes and tra­uailes vaine.

And imagenyng (saith he) we leade our lifes, meanyng, that we imagine it pos­sible for vs to be happie in this darke­nesse, and in these vanitees, whiche in vaine we busie and trauaile our selfes to gette. Wherof it foloweth, that thin­kyng to become happie, we finde our sel­fes ouerthrowen in vnhappinesse and miserie. For what greatter miserie can there be, than hauyng habandoned the charge of our soules for contentacion of our bodies, that we can now finde no­thyng, wherin we maie well delite or be iustly satisfied? These thinges here be­fore rehersed are they, wherunto (as I haue saied) mens thoughtes are gene­rally geuen. Finally amongest the phi­losophers there haue been diuers opini­ons, wherin shoulde consist the ende of all goodnesse. And they all togethers wantyng the lyght of the trouth, went [Page] about to finde this goodnesse in the bo­dies of this worlde. But seeyng the worlde is compounded and corruptible, sufferyng mutacion and alteracion, it is impossible to fynd any stedfastnesse in it. And therfore those wisemen of the world with theyr doctrines, haue remaigned wrapped in a labyrinthe of ignoraunce: nor there hath not been seen amongest theim any lyght of the trouth, sauyng onely in the doctrine of Plato,Plato his opinion tou­chyng fe­licitee. who de­nieth it shoulde be possible for men to be happie before theyr myndes (separated from these earthly bodies) be retourned vnto theyr propre nature. For wheras our vnderstanding hath no cleere know­lage of thynges, and therfore can not be quiete, it foloweth, that not quietyng it selfe, it is impossible it shoulde feele the true felicitee.

The greatest goodnesse.

ANd because the greatest good­nesse is it, that for it selfe is desy­red to be gotten, whiche ones got­ten maie so quiete vs, that we neede not to desyre nor to seke any further. Ther­fore dooeth Plato determine, it can be [Page] none other, but god onely (though he cal hym not by that name) as he in whom all bountie and perfection consisteth, or that is the bountie and perfectiō it selfe. And if a gentile, borne in the darkenesse of this worldely ignoraunce, out of the law of god, out of the light of the trouth, and out of the fauour of grace, did see and perceiue, that here in earth we can haue no felicitee nor stedfastnesse: how muche more oughte we that haue the cleere knowlage of the true doctrine, of the true law, the true lyght and the gift of grace? how much more (say I) ought we to know the infyrmitee and miserie of mortal thinges? and knowyng them, to vnfolde our selfes out of theim, and to lifte vp our thoughtes vnto the true and eternall felicitee? It is written in the epistle to the Hebrews, that we haue no stedfast abidyng here: but that we seke one, whiche shall be our habitacion. And where is it? truely none other but that, towardes the which nature hath so fra­med vs, that thitherwardes we haue our faces reised. To heauen, to heauen I saie, together with our eies we ought to addresse our thoughtes: and that with a readie mynde, because, as the diuine [Page] Poete writeth▪

The heauens folowyng their course still about dooe tourne,
Shewyng vs the pleasures of their most beauti­full fourme.

For in dede bothe night and daie dooeth the heauen styll twynde about vs, in a maner callyng vs thither, and folowyng vs with the ornament of hir flambyng beauties: and as it were saiyng vnto vs: O howe fayre is it that here is hidde from you, if those lightes that glister in me, and that seeme so faire vnto you, be none other but shadowes in comparison of the superiour beauties,

Whiche you earthlimen, that wormes J maie well cal,
Must ascende vnto, to supplie the angelles fal.

And there is nothyng can be saied more proprelie, because that like as the silke wormes, hauyng finisshed their worke, getteth theim whynges, euen so we that haue wrought christenlie, shall be apte to take our flighte thither, whereas we shall be accompanied of angels. Wher­fore nowe syns our propretee is suche, lette vs awake from our longe drowsie [Page] slepe, and beatyng our whynges toge­ther mount on the tippe toe,

Appliyng wel our eies towardes that twyn­dyng lewre,
That our celestiall kynge hath made for vs so pure.

Our lewre is heauen, with whiche the supernall faukener reclaimeth vs, to the entent we shuld flee therunto, and ther­vpon rest vs. Wherfore liftyng our eies vnto heauen, and our mindes aboue hea­uen: and confessyng our passed errours, the vanitees of our present lyfe, and the waies of the worlde, despisyng also the worldly doctrines: let vs now beginne with an hote desyre to saie with the pro­phete,

Who shal geue me the feathers of a doue,
That J maie flee to rest me there aboue.

Of our selfes we can not lyfte vs from the earth, to put vs on the waie towar­des that celestiall countrey, if we be not holpen and guided the waie. Who than shall helpe vs? who shall feather our whynges? and who shall be our guide in so stype and longe a vyage, as from the earth vnto heauen? Surely a small [Page] labour it is for vs, amongest our selfes to finde hym that shalbe our skoute, and that shall geue vs not the feathers of a doue, nor of an Egle, but angelles fea­thers to carie vs vpon the whynges of the winde: amongest vs is the light that lightneth euery man, whiche cometh in­to this worlde: and amongest vs is that soonne of the celestiall father, whiche hath geuen vs power to become sonnes of god. And now being become sonnes of god, ought we to doubt, that he our father woul not draw vs his sonnes vn­to hym? No, no, truely no: Let vs ap­ply our selfes therfore to seke this waie, and let vs this daie beginne to seke this lyght, and this sonne of God: because (as thapostle Iames writeth) we know not what shall be to morow.Iac. 4.

¶Christ is the waie, the verifee, and the life.

THe right way to atteine the great­test goodnesse, and to goe vnto the true and perfite felicitee, is that whiche Esaie prophecied should be cal­led the waie of holinesse: wherin a spot­ted man shoulde not put his feete. And [Page] this is none other but our sauiour Iesu Christ (who saiyng, I am the waie, the veritee, and the life, and that none cometh to the father but by my meane) reacheth vs, that we ought to seeke none other waie: because that he beyng the waie, we beyng with hym, shall be sure not to wander: and he beyng the veritee, we ought not to feare▪ that we shoulde be deceiued, and he also beyng the life we are sure, that he woull not let vs fall in­to the shadow of death. And seyng fur­thermore, that he is the light, it is to be supposed, that those waies, whiche are farre from him, are da [...]enesse, and who that walketh in the darke, woteth not whi­ther he goeth. Besides that the highe father hath witnessed for hym, saiyng, This is my welbeloued sonne, in whom I haue pleased my selfe, heare him: whiche declareth, that there is none other waie to come vnto hym.

¶Christ vniteth man vnto god▪

HE than is the true meane betwene god and vs: as he that in his god­head beyng true soonne of god, is one selfe thyng with God: and that in [Page] his manhode beyng true sonne of man, is one selfe thyng with man. Through which vnion that he hath with god and with man, he beyng meane, dooeth so v­nite man with god, that man entreth in­to god, and god into man: as Christ him selfe witnesseth, saiyng: I am in the fa­ther, and he is in me, and you in me and I in you: For if we be in Christ, and he in the father, it foloweth also, that we are in the father: And if Christ be in vs, and the father in hym, consequently must the father also be in vs.

¶The life of Christe in this worlde.

BUt for all this I maie not forgette to saie, that he hath spoken these thynges vnto them that shall kepe his commaundementes, whiche com­maundementes are those, that he with his owne workes and woordes hath de­clared vnto vs. And as longe as we folowe the waies of the worlde and of the fleshe, it is impossible for vs to walke after his examples, or to put his wordes in execucion. For he neuer sought the pleasures of delicate meates, nor of pre­cious wines: but fasted and suffred hun­ger [Page] and thirste. And in his hunger had stones presented vnto him, went seekyng fruite on the trees, and founde none, for thirste demaunded water of a straunge woman, and in his last thyrst was fedde with a most bitter drinke. He haban­doned all other corporall delites, and kept the floure of his virginitee imma­culate: and so much loued clennesse, that he wolde be borne of a mayde. In the beautie of his bodie he delited not, suf­fryng hym selfe to be spytte vpon, to be haled and torne. He vsed not his force, whan hauyng ouercome the world with the prince therof, he woulde suffre hym selfe to be taken and bound of them that fell at his worde. He estemed so muche richesse, that all the riche men of the world beyng but his dispensours, he yet woulde be borne in a stable, and liuyng here in the earth amongest men (wheras the foxes haue their buries, and the birdes theyr nestes) he had no place to put in his heade. Of honours he was so studi­ouse, that though honour proprelie ap­perteigned vnto him, yet woulde he vse grossely the companie of the publicanes and commen people: and in steede of an honourable tribunall wolde ascende on [Page] the tree of the crosse betweene two the­ues. And vnto lordship he clymbed so, that beyng kyng of kynges, and lorde of lordes, he liued still priuately, and as a subiect sent Peter a fisshyng to paie the duetie vnto the customers: and fledde from theim that would haue made him kynge. As for fame he was no more stu­diouse therof, than of the other worldly vanitees. For he beyng the same that onely deserueth glorie, commaunded the sicke that he had healed, not to publisshe his woorkes abroade: and suffred not the diuels to tell what he was. And if he, in whom was all pleasures, all beau­tie, and all power: and from whom pro­cedeth all richesse, all honours, and all empires, and he who is kyng of all true glorie, liuyng in this worlde with vs, despised all these thynges, geuyng vs example to dooe the like, why dooe we with so muche studie and trauaile fo­low the contrarie? If we woull be ioy­gned with Christ, it behoueth vs not to folow the waies of the worlde and of the fleshe. Because that his procedyn­ges hauyng been farre of from those, he that walketh by theim taketh a diuerse waie from Christ: And the more we goe [Page] in theim, the further we separate our selfes from him: as dyuers lynes that drawen streight from one poinct, the lon­ger that thei goe, the more different thei be. And syns we haue brieflie declared by his example, whiche is the waie to goe vnto eternall blisse, I woull we see now, as neere as we can, what the waie that his woorde teacheth vs is.

¶Eternall life.

HE than addressing him selfe towar­des his celestiall father, saieth on this wise: This is euerlastyng life, that they knowe the onely God, and that Iesu Christ, whom thou hast sent. Unto whiche knowlage we must beleeue, that we neither by the subtiltee of our owne wittes, nor yet by the profoundenesse of our sciences, can euer atteigne, the thing beyng of so ample, so vnmeasurable, and so incōprehensible a greatnesse as it is.

¶The knowlage of God.

FOr that knowlage, that we muste hope to haue of hym, muste come by grace through the light of him, that maie lighten our vnderstandynges, and [Page] open the eies of our myndes: and rest we shall in continuall darknesse, if those in­warde eies receiue not lyght by that su­pernall sonne, as our naturall eies haue power to discerne the thynges of this worlde by the sonne that we daiely see. And therfore saied the apostle true: that we know not god, if fyrst he know not vs. For lyke as if our mortall eie woull see the soonne, it is fyrste necessarie that the sonne shew hym selfe: Euin so willyng with the eies of our mynde to see god, it behoueth hym fyrst with the light of his owne lyght to discouer hym selfe vnto vs: which the diuine bountee hath doen, not onely by geuyng vs moste largely of his grace, and sendyng into thearth his onely begotten sonne: who is (as it hath ben saied) the true light, and it that light­neth euery man commyng into this world: But also by the continuall sendyng of the holy ghost into the hertes of his ele­cted, with faieth to kendle in theim the light of his grace. This light than of the euerlastyng sonne beyng spredde o­uer vs, hath discouered vnto our eies the light of our immortall part: by the whi­che beholdyng god through Christe, we maie by our faieth in Christ come to the [Page] knowlage of god. But to this faieth and belefe there behoueth no small con­sideracion: For we must kepe the waie of lyfe, mainteignyng our faieth liuely with good woorkes. Because that like as workes without faieth are not recei­ued of god for iust,Good workes are ne­cessarie. euen so our faieth is but dead, if it shew not hir selfe fruite­full by charitable woorkyng. And as the grace and mercie of god is haboun­daunt in vs without our deseruyng, so with our good woorkes ought we to fo­low his commandementes to make our selfes apt vesselles of his grace and ver­tue, and to become liuely tabernacles of the holy ghost. For (as Paule saieth) Not they that heare the law, but thei that fulfill the law shall be iustified before god: dooyng vs to vnderstande, that though we haue our iustificacion of faieth: Yet in maner it suffiseth vs not without wor­kes. And Iames the apostle writeth, that if any man saie, he hath faieth, and woorketh not, his faieth is dead: and fo­lowyng, in speakyng of Abrahams iusti­ficacion, he saith, That through his wor­kes he was iustified, hauyng offred his son Isaac vnto the aulter: and that faieth did helpe hym to woorke, whiche faieth tho­rough [Page] the worke was made perfite. And addeth furthermore these wordes: Be­hold therfore, that man is iustified by his dedes and not by his faith onely. To the prouffe wherof he alleageth an other ex­ample of Raab, who for sauing rhe mes­sengers of the people of god, was saued hir selfe, and saieth on this wyse: Like­wyse was not Raab the harlot iustified by hir woorkes, hauyng receiued the messen­gers, and conueyed them awaie? Wher­fore he concludeth, that as the body with­out spyrite is dead, euin so is faieth with­out woorkes. But this (you must con­sider) he hath not written to extoll wor­kes withall, or to take from God any parte of his glorie (who of his diuine bountee by meere grace & by faieth one­ly dooeth iustifie vs) but to the entent that beyng already assured in faieth, we shuld be the more ready with good wor­kes to confirme and encrease our faieth. For this liuely and woorkyng faieth is it that Christ meaned, whan he saied: So let your light shine in the sight of men, that they maie see your good woorkes. For if you kepe your faieth closed in your hertes without woorkyng, it can geue no light at all: as it maie appeare [Page] also by that other saiyng of Christe: I am the vine, and you the braunches: and they that brynge foorth no fruite shall be shredde awaie. For Christe beyng our bodie, and we his membres: he woulde we shulde know, that he woull not take theim for his membres, that woull not trauaile by well woorkyng to perseuere in hym, as it is euident by exaumple of the curse he gaue vnto the fygge tree, that he founde fruitelesse.

¶But because this matter is more then euident, it is tyme we enter to diffine what those thinges ought to be, whiche we shoulde woorke, willyng to remaine in the astate of Iesu Christ. And where can we so well learne it, as of Christ him selfe? who (hauyng saied before, that all the law and prophetes depended on two commandementes, that is to wete, on the loue of god and of the neighbour) the last euennyng that he supped with his beloued disciples, knowyng he shuld no more eate as a mortall man with theim, he shewed theim right well, how perfectly he loued them. For after that he had wasshed theyr feete, and licenced Iudas to goe about his bargaine, he or­deigned his testament, in the whiche a­mongest [Page] other thynges, the woordes of his wyll were these.

¶The testament of Christ.

I Geue you a new commaundement, that you loue well to gethers: As I haue loued you, so loue you one an other: and therby shall men know that you are my disciples, if you haue charitee amongest you. O ardent loue of the di­uine benignitee. O liberall benignitee of the diuine loue. He saied not, as he had saied before vnto the people, that the principall commaundement was, Thou shouldest loue God with all thyne hert, with all thy minde, and all thy soule, and that the second was: Thou shuldest loue thy neighbour as thy selfe. No, he saied not so, but the sweete Iesu saied: I geue you a new commaundement, a light commaundement doe I geue you, whiche I my selfe haue first fulfilled towardes you: and that is, that without further burden of the law you shall be friendes amongest your selfes, and that you loue one an other as I haue loued you: and you shalbe knowen for my disciples, not if you loue celebrate or worship me▪ but if you loue amongest your selfes, and if [Page] charitee be with you. Beholde here, howe many waies, and by howe many meanes our sweete sauiour goeth about to draw vs easelie vnto saluacion. He with this one lighte commaundement enduceth vs to the fulfillynge of the whole law: whiche dependyng before on two commaundementes (the loue of God and of the neighbour) is now com­prehended in this one new commaunde­ment on this wise: Our sauiour Christ beyng man amongest vs, was one of vs that shoulde loue amongest our selfes: and so louyng hym (beyng also God) it came to passe, that we loued god, by rea­son wherof in this one commaundement was the whole law fulfilled, whiche before Christes incarnacion was im­possible, God and man beyng through our defaulte of nature and rebellion plainly separate. But now that Christ, bothe by grace and by nature had ioy­gned theim togethers,The new commandement, com­preh [...]ndeth the whole law. he woulde also knitte the two olde preceptes in one, and for the new and meruailouse effect of it in vnityng man with God, woulde also call it the new commandement: because it vnited the loue of man with the loue of god. And this in mine opinion is the [Page] true interpretacion of those wordes.

¶The loue of God towardes vs.

NOw than hath our lorde for fulfil­lyng of his law commanded vs to loue amongest our selfes, & how? euen as he hath loued vs. But how hath our lorde loued vs? So muche, that it can not be expressed. For (besides that he hath created vs of naught, and fourmed vs vnto his owne image and likenesse, and hath ordeyned vs ouer all the woorkes of his handes, hauyng put all thinges vnder our feete) wheras we by disobedience tourned our backes vn­to hym: and throughe our owne faulte and wilfulnesse are becomen rebelles a­gainst him: he to reconcile vs vnto him, hath willed hym selfe to dooe penaunce for our sinne, and to make vs apte to a­scende vnto him (as the prophete saieth in his psalmes) he made the heauens to encline and descended vnto vs,

Of god he became man to make vs parttakers of his diuinitee,
Of immortal he made hym selfe mortal, to geue vs his eternitee.

[Page] Of impassible he made hym selfe passi­ble to delyuer vs from passion, beyng pure and vncreate, he toke on hym an earthelie bodie, to make our soules and bodies glorified: He dwelled in the erth to make vs citisins of heauen: He suf­fred hunger and thyrst to feede vs with Ambrosia, and with angelles foode: He suffred him selfe to be tempted of the di­uel, to deliuer vs from his temptacions: He wolde be taken and bounde, to loose and deliuer vs out of the chaines of our enemie: He suffred him selfe to be scour­ged and tourmented, to drawe vs out of peine and tourmentes: He refused not to be reised vp on the crosse, to reise vs vnto eternall triumph: Nor yet refused to be wounded with speare and nayles, to heale our incurable woundes: he suf­fered a crowne of prickyng thornes, to crowne vs with the crowne of glory: he willed to die, to purchace our lifes: and descended vnto hell, to make vs ascende vnto heauen. These thynges hath our sauiour dooen for our loue, besydes in­finite others, whiche I shulde not be ha­ble to reherse, though well I had all the tounges bothe of men and of angelles. And yet for all the feruent loue that he [Page] hath borne vs, and for all the wonders that he hath doen and suffred for vs, he requyreth no more of vs but loue, and how? Not for him selfe alone, but in to­ken that we are his, he hath entred into our company, and rekenyng him selfe as one of vs, hath willed vs in louyng one an other, to loue hym amongest our sel­fes. But peraduenture some may thinke this an harde commandement, that we should loue no lesse amongest our selfes, than as he hath loued vs: because his loue beyng infinite, it is impossible our loue shoulde be equall therunto. Wher­fore it is to be noted, that Iesu Christe, who descended from the boasome of the eternall father into this vale of miserie, to make vs an easie waie vnto paradise, neither commaundeth vs impossibilitee, nor yet any thyng that shoulde be ouer harde for vs to fulfill. For he saieth not, that we shuld loue so muche amon­gest our selfes, as he hath loued vs: but that we shuld loue togethers in like ma­ner as he hath loued vs, as it were to saie.

¶What our mutuall loue ought to be.

I Woull not that you loue togethers as worldly men are wont to dooe, whose workes and loue tende pro­prely vnto theyr owne wealth and pro­fite. For all the benefites that they doe towardes theyr neighbours, are doen in hope of some delite, profite or honour, that shulde folow therof. I woull not (saieth Christ) that you loue after that sorte, but you ought to loue together, as you haue seen me loue you, whiche hath ben not for mine owne interest, but alto­gether for your wealth, your benefite, and your exaltacion. So than shall you loue togethers, that eche man shall de­sire to helpe other without respect vnto any interest of his owne: and so (in mine opinion) shall we fulfill the sentence of those wordes of our sauiour, whan this loue amongest our selfes is free and li­berall, and not vttered of purpose as a merchaundise. Finally it is a won­der to consider the vnspeakeable boun­tee, the incomparable benignitee, and the incomprehensible loue of Christ to­wardes [Page] vs, who not contented by his owne exaumple to prouoke vs curtes­lie to loue togethers, hath yet further bounde hym selfe, for the loue amongest our selfes, and for the charitee that we shalbe knitte togethers in, to reward vs most largelie, saiyng: If we helpe one an other in our necessitees, if we visite one an other, and receiue one an other, all the good that we shall doe vnto our neighbours, we shall doe vnto hym: and there shall not be one draught of colde water geuen, but that he woull see it re­warded. And with what rewarde? The good deede to be multiplied by an hundrethfolde, and to geue vs euerla­styng life withall. This shalbe the re­warde of our loue. And our loue is it that must make vs whynges to brynge vs vp into the true waie towardes the high felicitee. For our loue and beyng in charitee togethers, is it that reiseth vs vp, and that knitteth vs vnto god, as the deerelie beloued apostle of Christe saith: god is charitee, and he that dwel­leth in charitee, dwelleth in God, and god in hym.

¶The conclusion of our doynges, what they ought to be.

NOw hauyng founde, what the true felicitie of man is, and what is the meane and waie to brynge hym thereunto, shakyng of all these shorte worldely pleasures, the fraile corporall prosperitees, the corruptible richesse, the ambiciouse and inconstant honours, the great and perillouse lordeshippes, and the transitorie smoke of mortall fame: lette vs dispose our selfes with all our hertes and with all our myndes vnto this moste holy loue, that Christe calleth vs vnto, and vnto this moste gloriouse charitee, that knitteth vs together with God: and so louynglie togethers, lette vs feede Christ in the hungrie, geue him drinke with the thirstie, cloathe hym in the naked, herboroughe hym with the herboroughlesse, visite hym in the sicke, redeeme hym with the captiues, and bu­rie hym with the deade. And this not with our handes onelie, but enforcyng vs to haue our myndes open towardes Christ, let vs teache the rude, counsaile the ignoraunt, reproue theim that erre, [Page] comforte the afflicted, and beare paci­entlie all iniuries, forgeuyng theim that offende vs, and praiyng for our enemies. Of all whiche thinges let vs frely make a present vnto Christe, in yeldyng vnto hym by our lyberalytee towardes our neighbours, that whiche he most libera­ly hath geuen vs. And so vnited in cha­ritee amongest our selfes, as true mem­bres of that bodie, wherof Christ is the head, we shall finde our selfes by Christ also vnited vnto God: and with our myndes all separated from the face of these vaine, mortall and earthlie thyn­ges, attendyng onely vnto the true cele­stiall and euerlastyng goodnesse, enflam­bed with feruent desire therof, we shall beginne to saie vnto hym with the pro­phete,

Than shalbe satisfied our cheere,
Whan that thy glorie shall appeere.
FINIS.

JMPRINTED AT LON­DON IN FLETESTRETE IN THE HOVSE OF THO­mas Berthelet. Cum priuilegio ad impri­mendum solum.

ANNO. M. D. XLIX.

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