The first SECTION. Devotion of Great men.

OF more worth (saith S. Gregory Nazian­zen) Nazian. in Iamb. [...]. is a good dumb work, than an elo­quent oration without effect. A gol­den tongue and a leaden heart, never matched together. It is nothing for one to have the trumpet on his lip, who hath not the torch in his hand, according to the example of those brave soldiers of Gedeon. The voice of great S. Atha­nasius was a thunder-clap, and his life a lightening flash, saith the fore-alledged Authour, because words never thunder well, if examples enlighten not.

To what purpose is it to warble like a lute, and to be deaf to the harmony thereof? To carry where­with to shift and cleanse others, as the ass of the hot­house, and be himself perpetually bemyred and slo­venly? To buzze up and down like a drone or hum­ble-bee, and neither make honey nor wax? All the Devotion of a soul truly Christian tendeth to pra­ctice, as the line to its center. Our wisdom (said S. Cyprian) is a prudence of works, not of words or Cyp. l. de pa­tientia. Philosophi fa­ctis, non verbis sumus: nec magna lequi­mur sed vivi­mus. paper. This is it, which hath given me occasion, having treated of motives, obstacles, and remedies, which men of quality may have in the way of spiri­tual life, briefly to prepare a little practice of virtues, which more concerneth their condition, to behold them afterwards appear in the history of Courts, which I purpose to begin in this present volume.

It much importeth at the very first entrance, to make a good idea of Devotion, which many plaister over in their own manner, and attire with their pas­sion, making that sometimes serve for vice which beareth the scepter of virtue. Some imagine devo­tion to be nothing but an ordinary practice of un­seemly gestures and motions, such as little puppets would make, if they were animated with some small quantity of quick-silver. Others make use of devo­tion as Dionysius the Tyrant did of Philosophers, not that he loved them, but that folding himself in their clokes, he thought he should be honored by the peo­ple. So shall you find sometimes in the world, those who for a vain interest of reputation, will cloth them­selves with the robe of false devotion, as if one should seek to shelter himself under a wet sack. I speak not here of devotion which concerneth Religious men, nor that which is in the sweetness of contemplation, but I affirm the virtue of devotion, according to S. Thomas, is nought else but a prompt will to the service of God. Noblemen have cause to aspire thereunto.

I. A good devotion in Great men, is to have a True devo­tion of Great men. Sentite de Do­mino in boni­tate. Sap. 1. great and faithful feeling of the Majesty of God, not serving him with exteriour semblances, but sin­cerely, cordially, constantly, holding all the ma­xims of state and condition under the rules of con­science; and disposing themselves rather to hazard all, than to loose God by one sole sin.

II. A good devotion, to clip the wings of the co­vetousness Note these points and examine them often. Animae irre­verenti & in­fraenatae nè tradas me. Eccl. 23. 6. of riches and greatness: covetousness, which never findeth measure but in extremities, nor other period than a precipice. Take heed of a soul without bridle. without reverence.

III. A good devotion, not to reach at the goods of the Church by any false pretence, represented in the Court of Rome, by any black or covert deceits, sowed together with white threed, nor afterward to charge a man with titles, like an old sepulchre, and hold to himself the patrimonie of Jesus Christ, therewith to fatten dogs and feed hawks, or such other infamous creatures, which live on the sins of others. Finally, these goods are Eagles feathers, In felle amari­tudinis, & in obligatione [...] iniquitatis. Actor. 8. which eat and consume others: whilest a soul is lodged there, it remaineth in a bitterness reple­nished with gall, and in the perplexed intrications of sin.

IV. A good devotion, not to incroach upon the possessions of your neighbour, nor enforce the good 3 Reg. 21. Naboth to sell his land for the accommodation and content of your Lordship, but if he will leave it, to Isaiah 5. 8. Vae, qui con­jungitis do­mum. ad do­mum, & agrum agro copulatis usque ad ter­minum loci. Nunquid habi­tabitis vos soli in medio terrae? Dissolve colli­gationes impie­tatis, solve fa­sciculos depri­mentes. Isaiah 58. 6. Salvian. l. 5. de guber. Quot Curiales tot Tyranni. give him a good price, a reasonablerate, a full satis­faction. Woe to you (said Isaiah) who annex house to house, inheritance to inheritance, as far as the land stretcheth. Would you dwell alone in the midst of the earth?

V. A good devotion, in things which one may rightfully exact, to be staid, just, temperate, not co­vetous, no Harpy, no Tyrant, but to extend the bow­els of compassion towards the poor, who are our flesh and bloud, to open the eyes, not to invent new impo­sitions that may draw the marrow from the people, but to take away or lessen the old, that necessity re­quireth no more. Salvianus complaineth that in his time there were as many Tyrants as Lords and [Page 61] Courtiers. And that is the cause why God gave the Roman Empire as a prey to Barbarians, being Masters more mild than the covetousness of great ones.

VI. A good devotion, to discharge his debts and Non morabitur opus mercena­rii tui apud te usque ad mane Levit. 19. 13. Diligite justi­tiam qui judi­catis terram. Sap. 1. promises, and never suffer the wages of the poor hire­ling to lie hid in his coffers.

VII. A good devotion, to attend publick char­ges which you are to undergo, especially those that concern distribution of justice, with understanding conscience and diligence: understanding, to know the affairs; conscience, to handle them faithfully; di­ligence, not to draw out the expedition of causes in languishing delays, so prejudicial to the publick.

VIII. A good devotion, in banishing superfluitie Tertul. de cul­tu foeminar. Discutiendae sunt deliciae, quarum molli­tie, & fluxis fidei virtus ef­faeminari potest of apparel and tast, excesses, curiosities, houshold-vi­ces: To cause modestie, frugalitie, employment, and virtue to reign; and to be the first himself to light the torch to his familie You must necessarily expel delights; for their tenderness and excesses weaken and enervate all religion.

IX. A good devotion, to make choise of servants, to instruct, or make them honest, and to esteem no man faithfull in your service who is disloyal to God: Not to be desirous to keep a bad servant for ones Attende tibi à pestifero, fabri­cat enim mala. Eccles. 11. 35. own interest, though the whole house would be changed into gold by his hands.

X. A good devotion, to hinder disorders and sins, which are committed in publick, when you have au­thoritie in your hands, without shewing your self in­satiable to revenge your own proper injuries, and more cold than ice in the quarrel of God. When a In cujus manu est ut prohibe­at, jubet agi, si non prohibet admitti. Salvian. l. 7. man hath the power in his hands to stay a sin, to permit it is to commit it. These are points of devotion, which we must hereafter moreamply digest.

The second SECTION. In what all Devotion and spiritual life consisteth.

YOu who aspire to spiritual life, know there are three sorts of man in you alone, the Vegetal, Animal, and Intellectual; and that all your Three sorts of man in us. perfection consisteth in putting the Vegetal and Ani­mal man under the feet of the Intellectual. A great number of men are now adays vegetals, that is to say, who so live as if they had no other soul but the ve­getative as plants, and lead the very life of the mush­rome. Others are animal, who make their souls wholy evaporate in sensual love, in choler, rage, in brutishness. Few shall you find who are intellectual, who work with reason and understanding. And be­hold wherein consisteth our excellencie and repose, to wit, in raising the intellectual man, many times currishly trampled on under the feet of concupi­scence, to his proper sphaer, which is the knowledge and union with God.

To arrive to this point, it is good to note a wor­thy doctrine of Hugo of S. Victor, to wit, that there Hugo miscel. 2 codic. lib. 3. pag. 17. Notable do­ctrine of Hu­go. is above us a creating Trinitie, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; in us a created Trinitie, understanding, me­morie, will; about us, a dangerous Trinitie, titillati­on, delectation, consent; under us, an unhappie Tri­nitie, into which we fall by sin, ignorance, weakness, impuritie. Reason falleth into a triple ignorance, of good and evil, of true and false, of suteable and dis­proportionable. Memorie into three kinds of thoughts; affectionate, being such as concern sensu­alitie; burdensom, as appertaining to the toyls of life; idle, as all vain thoughts are. The will suffereth it self to be surprized with three kinds of nets, which are concupiscence of flesh, concupiscence of eyes, and ambition of life.

A man reduced to this state, resembleth King Ne­buchadnezzar, who went out of his throne to eat hay with brute beasts; so the miserable man, after he hath forsaken the seat of reason, goeth into the stable with his bestial passions. The true and onely means to free your self from such unhappiness, and to re­turn to your first dignitie, is to open your heart to the graces and lights of the Holy Ghost, and to dis­pose your self to practice of vertues, which directly resist these three plagues of spiritual life, ignorance, weaknesse, impuritie. These are the three monsters which a spiritual man ought necessarily to subdue, that he afterwards may enjoy an assured repose.

Now to the end you may the more perfectly un­derstand the difference between the carnal and spi­ritual man, I will in this discourse following set their characters before your eyes.

The third SECTION. Of the first monster which the spiritual man should resist, to wit, Ignorance, and of the practice of virtues by which it is subdued.

THe greater part of men have dexterity in del­ving From whence our evils come. the ground like moles, Oculis cap­ti fodere cubilia talpae. Virgil. Geor. and have no eyes to behold the Sun. Yet all evils proceed from ignorance and the want of the knowledge of God. Primae sce­lerum causae mortalibus ae­gris, Naturam nescire Dei. Silius l. 4. This is the first Monster which we must assault, the first obstacle we must take away. And for this effect observe a wholesom doctrine, to wit, that God is the Sun of all the Intelligences, and that from this Sun five Five rays of the soul. Dignity of faith. Aug. apud Gulielm. Lug­dunens. rays of a lively and quicken­ing light are diffused over the darkness of our under­standings. These five rays are faith, understanding, counsel, wisdom and prudence. The first and most excellent light is faith, because the other rays do well enlighten the soul in those operations of which it is, as it were the fountain, but faith alone raiseth him above himself to his beginning, which is God. Fides res est audax atque improba, per­veniens quo non pertingit intelligentia: ipsa, ascendit super Cheru­ban, & volat super Seraphim senas alas ha­bens. Faith is a virtue bold and urgent, which attains to that the understanding cannot reach unto, mounteth a­bove Cherubins, and flies above Seraphins, though they have six wings. A man without faith is as the Pilot of whom it is spoken in the Proverbs Prov. 21. that fell a­sleep and lost his rudder. What virginity is to the body, the same is faith to the soul. It is the first­born of virtues, the beginning of spiritual life, the life of the understanding, as charity is the life of the will, the pillar of the cloud Et erat nu­bes tenebrosa, & illuminans noctem. Exod. 14. 30. which hath two faces, the one dark, because it believeth the things which are not apparent, the other lightsom, for that it believeth with an infallible assurance.

The fourth SECTION. Practice of Faith.

THat you may well practice the acts of faith, What faith is Hebr. 12. 1. Sperandarum substantia re­rum, argumen­tum non appa­rentium. you must know the nature, object, and mo­tive thereof. Faith (saith S. Paul) is the foun­dation of hope, and the proof of things not apparent. The foundation of hope, in regard all whatsoever we hope in matter of Religion, is grounded upon faith, as the statue upon its basis: the proof of things not apparent, because it is an infallible argument of truths whereof we have not as yet evident notice. S. Ber­nard Voluntariae quaedam & certa praeliba­tio nec dum pro­palatae veritatis Bern. de con­sider. Its object. S. Thom. 2. 2. q. 1. How we should be­lieve. addeth, that it is a first-tast certain and volunta­ry of truth yet not manifested. The Gold-smith la­boureth upon gold, silver, and precious stones as up­on his proper object: and the object which employ­eth faith are the mysteries revealed unto us by God, and proposed by his Church. Such mysteries ought to be believed for no other motive, but for that God the eternal Truth hath revealed them. The argu­ments which are drawn from the prophesies, miracles, numbers of Martyrs, purity of the evangelical law, from the correspondency thereof with reason, from the admirable success and consent of all the myste­ries, from the conversion of the world, from the means which the Church hath used to establish it self, from her firm constancy amidst persecutions, from the wisdom & sanctity of the professours of our law and such like things, which I have produced in the first obstacle of the second book, are most powerful considerations to introduce us to faith, and to make easie and familiar to us the acts thereof: but they are not properly motives of faith. In the same manner, How faith works. A fine com­parison. as the soul draweth knowledge from sense, and yet notwithstanding is above sense; so faith, though she serve her self with these considerations which are able to command the most contumacious spirits, yet is she admirably raised upon a more supereminent sphere, and will abide no other touch but of the eternal Verity, which darteth a forcible lightening-flash into the soul, able to dazle, enlighten, and sur­prize the most prosperous liberty that may be imagi­ned. Thence the soul cometh to believe, not by Wherin faith consisteth. humane discourse, by miracles, by doctrine, by san­ctity, but because God speaketh inwardly unto it and giveth it so powerful a touch, that she judgeth in­fallible whatsoever is revealed and proposed unto her by the Church. Behold to what point the good S. Elzear Count of Arian was arrived, when he said he tasted matters of faith with such certainty and resolution of understanding, that, when Monsieur Mi­ron (held for a prodigie of knowledge in his time) and all the most famous Doctours would have perswa­ded him the contrary of what he had embraced in [Page 63] the simplicity of his heart, all their subtilties could not be able to give the least shock to his spirit. This ad­mitted, the acts of faith are,

I. To submit proper judgement to God with all Touch-stone to know whe­ther one have faith. simplicity and humility of spirit, who speaketh unto us by his Church, by Scriptures, by Traditions, by Councels, by Canons of the sovereign Pastours of the Church.

II. To believe firmly all the Articles of faith which are proposed to us, as well those concerning the Divinity as the humanity of our Saviour; those which concern the Sacraments and ceremonies, as those which appertain to the order and government of the Church.

III. Throughly to retain the summary of the Christian doctrine, to inform your self of the expli­cation of every Article, not for curiosity but duty. To read, repeat, meditate, ruminate them very often: To teach them to the ignorant in time of need: But above all to give direction to your family, that they may be instructed in those things which belong to the knowledge of their salvation. It is an insupportable abuse to see so many, who drag silk at their heels, and have Linx's eyes in petty affairs, to be many times stu­pid and bruitish in matter of Religion, and in the knowledge of God.

IV. To abhor all innovation and liberty of speech, which in any the least degree striketh at the ancient practices of the Church.

V. And therefore it is necessary, as our Father Judicious notes of S. Ig­natius con­cerning sin­cere faith. S. Ignatius hath observed, to praise and approve Con­fession which is made to a Priest, and the frequent Haec Autho­ris [...] notanda, non probanda. Communion of the faithful, interpreting the devo­tion of others in a good sense.

VI. To recommend the Sacrifice of the Mass, to love, practice, perswade others to the laudable cu­stom of being present thereat, as much as may be. To esteem Church-musick, prayers, Canonical hours, Supplications, Processions, and such like.

VII. To praise the Orders of Religion, the vows of poverty, chastity, obedience, works of supererro­gation and evangelical perfection, ever generally pre­ferring virginity and continency in discourse before marriage.

VIII. To esteem of Reliques, to recommend the veneration and invocation of Saints; to be much affected to the service of the most blessed Mother of God; to approve of pilgrimages, which are orderly performed, Indulgences, and Jubilies, which the glo­rious King S. Lewis recommended to Philip his son in his last words.

IX. To have a religious opinion of the abstinences and fasts instituted by the Church, and of the manner of penances and mortifications which religious and other devout persons piously practice.

X. To maintain the commandments of the Church and ordinances of Superiours, both by word and ex­ample; and though their lives should not be con­formed to their doctrine, yet not to detract nor mur­mure at their actions in publick or private, thereby to alter in the peoples belief the reverence and respect to their dignity: but as much as shall be expedient privately to admonish them of their defective carri­age in their charges.

XI. Highly to esteem the doctrine of sacred Theo­logie which is taught in schools, and to make ac­count of the great Doctours, whom the Divine pro­vidence hath raised in this latter Age valourously to oppose heresies.

XII. Not to insist in ordinary discourses upon exaggerations, comparing men who live in this Age with the Apostles, Doctours, and Saints of an­tiquity.

XIII. To fix our selves upon the resolutions of the Church, that what our own peculiar reason would judge to be white, we to esteem it black when the decrees of the Church it self shall be so; always preferring the judgement of the Church before our private opinion, knowing that humane reason, espe­cially in matters of faith may easily be deceived, but the Church guided by the promised Spirit of truth, cannot erre.

XIV. Not in considerately to be embroyled in the thorny controversies of predestination: Highly to commend grace and faith, but warily without pre­judice of free-will, and good works.

XV. Not so to speak of the love and mercy of God that one may seem thereby to exclude the thoughts and considerations of fear and divine justice.

Behold the ordinary rules to preserve your self in faith. If you now desire to know how this virtue is purified and refined in mans heart, and in what consisteth the excellency of its acts, behold them here. You must carefully take heed of having onely a dead faith without charity or good works, which S. Au­gustine calleth the faith of the devil. It is a night-glimmer, obscure, and melancholy; but lively faith is a true beam of the Sun. The acts of a strong and lively faith are:

I. To have great and noble thoughts of God, as Heroick acts of faith. Matth. 8. that brave Centurion of whom it is spoken in S. Mat­thew, who supposed the malady, health, death, life of his servant absolutely depended upon one sole word of our Saviour, and thought himself unworthy he should enter into his house. Cassius Longinus a Pa­gan Cassius Longi­nus libro. [...]. so learned, that he was called the Living Libra­rie, one day reading Genesis, could not sufficiently admire the sublime speculations which Moses had of the Divinity, when he wrote of the worlds creation, & that God at the sound of one sole word made the great master-pieces of this universe to rise out of no­thing, as heaven, earth, water, the Sun, and Moon.

II. To believe with great simplicity, removed from all manner of curiosity and nice inquisition. God Si levaveris cultrum tuum super eo, pol­luetur. Exod. 20. would not the point of the knife should be lifted up on his Altar to cut it. So likewise the point of hu­mane spirit must not be raised on the Altar of faith, nor the curtain drawn to enlightē the mysteries with the torch of reason. S. Lewis was most perfect in this degree, who would not stir a foot to behold a mira­cle in confirmation of his belief.

III. To believe with great fervour, esteeming no­thing impossible to your faith, as did that simple shoemaker, who under a King of the Tartars, removed Paulus Vene­us l. 1. c. 18. de reb. orient. a mountain in the sight of the whole world, by the fervour and simplicity of his faith.

IV. Not to stagger nor be afflicted when you ask any thing of God in your prayers, holding it un­doubted that it will be granted, if it be for the great­er glory of the Sovereign Master, and your more ad­vantageable profit. You must always hold your hands lifted up in some kind as Moses did, even to the Exod. 17. setting of the Sun, to vanquish our Amalekites.

V. To have a generous heart and full of confi­dence in adversity, not to admit distrust during the storm; but with firm footing to expect the consola­tion of heaven, even when we shall be in the shades of death, as said the Prophet.

VI. Little to prize temporal goods in compari­son of eternal: To be ready to dispoil ones self from all the pleasures and commodities of the world, if there be any danger of faith, as that brave Courtier Hebr. 11. Moses, who forsook the contentments of Pharaohs Court, to be afflicted with his own people.

VII. To give alms liberally, with a firm belief, that the hand of the poor is the treasury of God.

VIII. To employ even life it self, as so many Mar­tyrs have done, and to seal your faith with your own bloud. This is the most heroical act; but yet it ought to be guided by discretion.

Now to make easie the acts of faith.

I. It is good oftentimes to consider how reason­able, [Page 64] glorious, and full of merit this act is. Reason­able, How acts of faith may be made easie. to submit the creature to the Creatour; glo­rious, to see the Sovereign Lord so served and ho­noured, that for the defence of one sole word but once pronounced by his mouth, a thousand and a thousand good servants are ready to bestow their lives; full of merit, in as much as we give a free con­sent, voluntary, and pious, and not being enforced by manifest evidence.

II. To be often confounded in the weakness and incapicity of our understanding, which is found so short in the knowledge of many petty things. There needeth no more but the foot of an Ant to stay it, and a glass of water to drown it. What stupidity then is like this, to be desirous to make ones self over­wise, and to judge that impossible which cannot be comprehended in matter of Religion?

III. To apply your mind to the consideration of motives, which may form in your spirit a probability of that which is proposed unto you, as are those I have noted before, and which will give good ente­rances to the inspirations of God.

IV. To retire from the toyl of senses, which do nothing but disturb when you consult with them in things spiritual; and to raise your soul above flesh to be illuminated by the Sun of Intelligences.

V. To take away the obstacles of all sorts of im­purity, and namely of pride & all disordinate affection.

VI. To strike at Heaven gate with prayer, seeing faith cometh unto us from treasures of the Father of light. Faith so planted, fortified, and manured by good works, illuminateth a soul. All the savage and cruel beasts, all the bruitish passions, chimaeraes, dreams, irresolutions, which went roaming up and down in this great forrest of confusions, amongst the shadows of night, are scattered so soon as this ra­diant Sun beginneth to dissipate darkness with his divine rays. Then is it, that a soul wholly clad with Hope. the clear lights of hope (which causeth it to expect the blessings of the other life) goeth on with a great and constant resolution, as one who hath for support the infinite power of God, who is as faithful in his promises, as rich in rewards.

Behold how this monster ignorance is overthrown by the arms of light.

The fifth SECTION. Of four other rays which serve to dissi­pate ignorance.

BEsides the torch of faith, God also gives us the Beam of un­derstanding. light of understanding, of counsel, wisdom, and prudence, which are as unvaluable riches, whol­ly replenishing the soul with splendour, as saith the Prophet Isaiah. The gift of understanding doth free us from a certain bruitishness, which is the cause that men tying themselves onely to external and sensible things, are perpetually out of themselves: at which time understanding calls them back again, and makes them to re-enter into their house, to see the beginning, progress, and end of the life of man; from whence he cometh, whither he goeth, what will become of him.

Counsel enlighteneth us in things doubtful, to Of counsel. take a good way.

Wisdom putteth us out of an apprentiship, and Of wisdom. draweth us from a certain childishness, which ma­keth men as little ones and carnal, mutually enter­taining themselves with temporal things. And the knowledge of God raiseth and causeth them to turn their faces directly towards Eternity.

Prudence considereth good and evil, according to Of prudence. the quality and quantity thereof. It examineth the circumstances of actions, and sheweth us what ought to be done in such a time, such a place, and such occasions.

The sixth SECTION. Twelve fundamental Considerations of spiri­tual life, partly drawn from that worthy man John Picus Mirandula.

FRom the five rays explicated before, proceed Note, that it is good often to meditate these maxims, either one a day, or all to­gether. great and goodly lights by direction of which a life wholly new is begun. John Picus of Mi­randula, a great and remarkable man, held for a pro­digie of wit, much tasting the content of spiritual life, enlightened by the rays of a wisdom absolutely celestial, establisheth twelve Considerations which we ought continually to meditate on, for the practice of the knowledge of God.

I. The first, the nature and dignity of man, to wit, 1. Conside­ration nature and dignity of man. that the first and ceaseless endeavour of man should be of man himself; to see what he hath been, what he is, and what he shall be. What he hath been, nothing; what he is, a reasonable creature; what he shall be, a guest of Paradise or of hell, of an eternal felicity, or of an everlasting unhappiness.

What he is according to nature, a master-piece, Greatness of the soul. where many prerogatives meet together; a body composed of a marvellous architecture; a soul en­dowed with understanding, reason, spirit, judgement, will memory, imaginations, opinions: A soul which flieth in an instant from one pole to the other, descendeth even to the center of the world, and mounteth to the top; which is found in an instant in a thousand several places, which embraceth the whole world without touching it, which goeth, which glittereth, which shineth, which diggeth into all the treasures and magazines of nature, which findeth out all sorts of inventions, which invent­eth arts, which governeth Common-wealths, which disposeth worlds. In the mean time she beholdeth about her self an infinite number of dogs, that bark at her happiness, and endeavour to bite her on every side.

Love fooleth her, ambition turmoyleth her, ava­rice Tyranny of passions. rusteth her, and lust enflameth her, vain hopes sooth her, pleasures melt her, despair over-bears her, choler burns her, hatred filleth her with gall, envie gnaweth her, jealousie pricketh her, revenge enra­geth her, cruelty maketh her savage, fear frosteth her, sorrow consumes her. This poor soul shut up in the body, as a bird of Paradise in a cage, is altoge­ther amazed to see her self assailed by all this muti­nous multitude, and though she have a scepter in her hand to rule, she notwithstanding oft suffereth her self to be deceived, ravished, and dragged along into a miserable servitude.

From thence behold what man is through sin; va­nity, weakness, inconstancy, misery, malediction.

What he becometh by grace, a child of light, a ter­restrial Angel, the son of a celestial Father by adop­tion, brother and coheir of Jesus Christ, a vessel of election, the temple of the Holy Ghost.

What he may arrive unto by glory; to be an inha­bitant of Heaven, who shall see the stars under his feet, which he hath over his head, who shall be fil­led with the sight of God, his beginning, his end, his true, onely, and original happiness.

II. The benefits received from God considered 2. Benefits of God. in general, as those of creation, conservation, re­demption, vocation, and in particular the gifts of the body, of the soul, of nature, of capacity, ability, industry, dexterity, wariness, nobility, of­fices, authority, means, credit, reputation, good suc­cess of affairs, and such like, which are given to us from Heaven, as instruments to work our salva­tion. And sometimes one of the greatest blessings is (that which few esteem a benefit) not to have all [Page 65] these advantages, which lead a haughty, weak, and worldly spirit even into a headlong precipice; but quite contrary, good disadvantages (in the opi­nion of the world) put him into the estimation of heavenly things. Man beholding what he hath been, what he is, what will become of him, from whence he proceedeth, whither he goeth, and how the union with God his beginning is his Scope, But, and Aim; if he doth that which reason dictateth to him, he instantly takes a resolution neither to have vein, sinew, nor artery, which tendeth not to his end, to conquer his passions, and no longer to serve creatures, but so far forth as he shall know them profitable to lead him to his Creatour. Everie crea­ture speaketh these words to man: O man keep what Bernard. de gradibus hu­milit. Serva commis­sum, expecta promissum cave prohibitum. is given to thee, expect what is promised thee, and avoid what is forbiden thee.

III. The third consideration is the passion of the Son of God; a bottomless abyss of dolours, scorns, annihilations, love, mercy wisdom, humility, patience, charity, the book of books, the science of sciences, the secret of secrets, the shop where all good resolutions are forged, where all virtues are purified, where all knots of holy obliga­tions are tied, the school where all Martyrs are made, all Confessours, all Saints. Our weakness, our faintness, come not but for want of beholding this table of excess. Who ever would open his mouth to complain of doing too much, of suffering too much, of being too much abased, too much des­pised, too much turmoyled, if he considered the life of God delivered over and abandoned for him to so painful labour, so horrible confusions, so insup­portable torments? O my God, my wounded God! As long S. Bonav. in stimul. Nolo vivere sine vul­nere cum te vi­deam vulnera­tum. 4. Example of Saints. as I shall see thy wounds, I will never live without wound.

IV. The examples of all Saints, who have walked in the royal way of the cross. When we consider the progression of Christianity, and the succession of so many Ages, wheresoever our consideration setteth foot it findeth nothing but the bloud of Martyrs, combats of Virgins, prayers, tears, fastings, sack-cloth, hair-cloth, persecutions, afflicti­ons of so many Saints, who have as it were won heaven by main force. Such have been found, who had heretofore filled sepulchers with their mem­bers S. Zeno homil. de Sancto Arcadio. Remorabantur in luce detenti quorum mem­bris pleni [...]erant tumuli. torn with engins and swords of persecution, and were yet alive to endure and suffer in their bo­dies, which had more wounds then parts of body to be tormented. Is it not a shame to have the same name, the same Baptism, the same profession, and yet to be always desirous to tread on roses? To be embarked in this great ship of Christianity with so many brave spirits, which even at this day hour­ly do wonders in the world, and to go under hatch­es to sleep in the bottom of the vessel, as needless out­casts, and the very scorns of reasonable nature?

V. The peace of a good conscience (the insepa­rable 5. Inward peace. companion of honest men) which sugareth all their tears, which seasoneth all their acerbities, which dissolveth all their sharpness; a perpetual ban­quet, a portative theater, a delicious torrent of in­explicable contentments, which begin in this world, and which many times are felt even in chaines, pri­sons, and persecutions. What will it be when the consummation shall be made in the other world, when the curtain of the great Tabernacle shall be drawn, when we shall see God face to face, in a body impassible as an Angel, subtile as a ray of light, swift as the wings of thunder, radiant as the Sun, when he shall be seen amongst so goodly and flourishing a company in a Palace of estimable August. Nes [...]io quid erit, quod ista vita non erit, ubi lucet quod non capit locus, ubi sonat quod non rapit tempus, ubi [...] ­let quod non spargit flatus, ubi sapit quod non minuit edacitas, ubi haeret quod non divellit eterni­tos. 6. Condition of this life wel described glory, and when one shall lead no other life, but that of God, of the knowledge of God, of the love of God, as long as God shall be God? What will this life be, nay, what will this life not be, since all the goods thereof either are not, or are in such a life of lights, which place cannot comprehend; of voyces and harmonies, which time cannot take from us; of odours, which never are scattered: a feast which never is finished; a blessing which eternity well may give; but of which it never shall see an end?

VI. It is to be considered on the other side the condition of this present life: A true dream, which hath the disturbances of sleep, but never the repose; a childish amuzement; a toyle of burdensom and ever-relapsing actions, where for one rose a thou­sand thorns are found, for one ounce of honey, a tun of gal, for blessings in apparance, evils in sub­stance. The most happy there count their years and cannot reckon their griefs. The carriers of the greatest honours are there all of ice, and oftentimes are not bounded but with headlong ruines. Its felicities are floating Ilands, which always re­coyl backward at that time when we think to touch them with our finger. They are the feasts of Helio­gabalus, Lamprid. He­liogab. where there are many invitations, many ceremonies, many reverences, many services, and at the end thereof we find a table and a banquet of wax, which melts before the fire, and from whence we return more hungry than we came. It is the enchanted egge of Oromazes, wherein this impostour vanted to have enclosed all the happiness of the world, and in breaking it there was found nothing but wind. All these pleasures flatter our senses with S. Eucher. in paranesi. Omnia haec conspectui nost­ro insidiosis co­loribus leneci­nantur: vis illa oc [...]lorum at­tributa lumini, non applicetur errori. an imposture of false colours: why do we suffer those eyes to be taken in the snares of errours, which are given to us by heaven to behold the light, and not minister to ly­ing? Yea, that which greatly should distast us in this present life, is, we live in an Age stuffed with mala­dies, as old age with indispositions. We live in a world greatly corrupted, of which may be said, It is a mon­ster whose understanding is a pit of darkness; reason, a shop of malice, will, a hell; where a thousand passions outragiously insult over it. Its eyes are two conduit-pipes of fire, from whence flie sparkles of con­cupiscence; its tongue, an instrument of malediction; its visage, a painted hypocrisie; its body, a spunge of ordures; its hands, the tallons of harpies: and finally it seemeth to have no other faith but infidelity; no law but its passion; no other God but its own belly. What contentment can it be to live with such a monster.

VII. If there be pleasures in life, they do nothing 7 Quality of worldly plea­sures. but a little slightly overflow the heart with a super­ficial delectation: Sadnesse diveth into the bot­tom of our soul, and when it is there, you will say it hath feet of lead never to forsake the place, but pleasure doth sooth us onely in the outward parts of the skin, & all her sweet waters, run down with full speed into the salt sea. Behold wherefore S. Augustin August. Conf. l. 6. cap. 5. said, when any prosperity presented it self to his eyes he durst not touch it. He looked upon plea­sure as on a fleeting bird, which seemeth as it were ready to be seyzed, and flieth away as soon as ever she sees her self almost surprized,

VIII. Pleasures are born in the senses, and like 8 Their short­ness. abortives are consumed in their birth: Their desires are full of disturbances, their access is of violent, forced, and turbulent agitations: Their satiety is far­ced with shame and repentance: They pass away after they have wearied the body, and leave it like a bunch of grapes, the juice whereof is extracted by the press, as saith S. Bernard: They hold it a goodly Bern. Serm. 10. in Cantic. Nulla maior voluptas, quam voluptatis fast­idium. Turtul. de syect. 9. The end. matter to extend their fulness: They must end with life, and it is a great hazard if during life it self, they serve not their host for an executioner. I see no grea­ter pleasure in the world than the contempt of pleasure.

IX. Man which wasteth his time in pleasures, when they are slipped away much like waters engen­dred by a storm, findeth himself abandoned as a pilgrim dispoiled by a thief: So many golden har­vests [Page 66] which time presented to him are passed, and the rust of a heavy age furnisheth him with nothing but thorns, sorrows to have done ill, and inabilities of doing well: what then remains to be said, but that which the miserable King said, who gave his scepter for a glass of water: Alas! must I for so short Lysimachus. a pleasure, loose so great a Kingdom?

X. Evil always beareth sorrow behind it, but not 10. Difficul­ty of penance true penance. It is a most particular favour of God, to have time to bemoan the sins of our passed life, and to take occasion by the fore-lock. Many are packed away into the other world without ever ha­ving thought of their passage, and such suppose they shall have many tears at their death, who shall not have one good act of repentance They bewail the sins which forsake them, and not God whom they have lost. True contrition is a hard piece of work: Facilius inve­ni qui inno­centiam serva­rent, quam qui congruè poeni­tentiam age­rent. Ambr. l. de unica poeni­tent. c. 10. 11. Death. How can he merit it who willingly hath ever de­merited?

XI. In the mean time death cometh apace; it ex­pecteth us at all hours, in all places, and you cannot attend it one sole minute, so much this thought dis­pleaseth you. The decrees thereof are more clear and perspicuous, than if they were written with the beams of the Sun, and yet we cannot read them. His trumpet soundeth perpetually more intelligibly than thunder, and we understand it not. It is no wonder that David in the 48. Psalm calleth it an Psal. 48. 5. According to the Hebrew. [...] aenigma; every one beholdeth the table, and few knoweth the sense of it. Notwithstanding it is a case concluded, we must take a long fare-well from all things which appertain to life, that can be extended no further than life it self: and it is a case resolved that serpents and worms must be inherited in a house of darkness. It is a goodly lesson, whosoever can well learn it. To know it well once, it must every day be studied. Nothing is seen every where but watches, clocks, and dyals, some of gold, some of silver, and others enchased with precious stones. They advertise us of all the hours, but that which should be our last: and since they cannot strike that hour, we must make it sound in our conscience. At the very instant when you read this, a thousand and a thousand perhaps of souls unloosened from the bo­dy, are presented before the Tribunal of God, what would you do if you were presently to bear them company? There is but one word: Timely despise Diordorus apud S. Ma­ximum serm. Omnia ista contemnito, quibus solutus corpore non indigebis. 12. What followeth death Apoc. 14 Tertul. de ani­ma. c. 53. Hug. l. 4. de anima. in your bodie the things of which you shall have no need out of your bodie.

XII. Your soul shall go out, and of all the atten­dants of life shall have none but good and bad by her sides. If she be surprized in mortal sin, hell shall be her share; hell, the great lake of the anger of God; hell, the common sewer of all the ordures of the world; hell, the store-house of eternal fire; hell, a depth without bottom, where there is no evil but we may expect, nor good which may be hoped.

Behold the twelve considerations which this most worthy man used to direct himself in the course of a virtuous life; and they so far had prevailed upon his soul, that he resolved after he had finished certain works which he then had in hand, to distribute all his goods among the poor, and go bare-foot through the cities, towns, and villages, carrying a Crucifix in his hand, to preach the cross & the blessings of the other life, employing his whole talent which God had gi­ven him to his service. But death prevented him.

The seventh SECTION. Twelve Maxims of Wisdom, which arise from the twelve precedent Considerations.

FRom these Considerations twelve goodly Ma­xims Often exa­mine your life by these maxims. of wisdom arise, greatly necessary for any who would enjoy true happiness.

I. The first is, to give to every thing its estimation, 1. Cood va­lue. since the beginning of our unhappiness proceedeth from a false value which we set upon creatures. It marvellously importeth to estimate every thing ac­cording to its worth. That good man Epictetus, said [...]. more than one would think, when he gave this ad­vise: My friend if thou lovest a pot, remember thy self to be a pot. For want of the knowledge of the price of what we love, we put God under the Altar, and vice above, to allow it the best part of the incense.

II. For this cause it is necessary daily to endea­vour 2. Light of mind in the choice. Osee. 12. Ballance of Chanaan. to enfranchize our selves from the opinions of the world, and to use, not the ballance of wicked Chanaan, of whom the Scripture saith, Chanaan in manu ejus statera dolosa, but the ballance of Jesus Christ, which is the Cross. There we ought to weigh the pleasing and the profitable, good and evil, sowr and sweet, time and eternity, and to proportion our judgements, resolutions, designs, actions, proceed­ings, to this great ballance which cannot deceive us. And as we are exteriourly to resist this torrent of popular opinions, so we interiourly have our pas­sions which we must necessarily extirpate, that we may give a judgement upon every thing with full liberty, otherwise they cast chaff into our eyes, and so blind us

III. To live here as a pilgrime of the world, dis­arrayed 3. To live a pilgrime. of all: To esteem nothing our own but our selves. All that which maketh us defie, quarrel, con­test, accuse God and man, is, that we have thought our selves to be proprietaries of those things of which we have but onely the use. We must (saith Epictetus) take all the blessings and honours of the Epict. Enche­ri. l. c. 12. world as a passenger, who going out of a ship, gathers cockle-shels upon the sand, yet ever hath his eye upon the ship to which he is engaged. Saint Chrysostom maketh such account of this maxim, that he saith, There is but one virtue in the world that causeth all other vir­tues, which is, to carry ones self as a pilgrim of this world, and a Citizen of Paradise.

IV. To have a very good opinion of the providence 4. Opinion of providence. Non fecit & abiit. of God, who covereth as it were under the shadow of his royal mantle, all creatures. S. Augustine saith, that God hath not made the world, afterward to leave it, like a Carabin who hath shot off his pistol. He governeth and desendeth it, as the good nurse who driveth away the wasp from her infants face whilest it securely sleepeth. He yieldeth himself account­able for all the hairs on our head. And dost thou Aug. hom. 14. tom. 10. pag. 103. Times ergo ne pereas, cujus capillus non peribit? Si sic tua cu­stodiantur su­perflua, in quā ­ta securitate est amima tua? Non perit ca­pillus quem cum tondetur non sentis, & perit anima per quam sentis? then (saith S. Augustine) fear to perish, considing in God? One hair taken from thy head without thy know­ledge or feeling, shall not perish; and shall thy soul be destroyed which is the root of all thy thoughts, and of all thy understandings? If God so preserve thy super­fluities, what will he do to thy treasures? Trust with confidence in the providence of God, if you desire always to live content. If your life be a feast, the Divine providence is the salt which seasoneth it. If that be a pilgrimage, this is the staff. If that be a night, this is the break of day. If you will fight, it is a steely buckler. If you sleep, it is a bed of repose. Our life is composed of three shadows, which are time past, time present, and the future. Will you have a good share in them all? said that admirable Emperour Mar [...]us Aurelius: Dispose time past to for­getfulness, Marc. Aurel. Anton. l. 2. de vita sua. the present to sanctity and justice, the future to providence.

V. To know the ways of this sacred providence, we must take heed not to be too wise, like some ar­rogant 5. To flie evil innovation. and scattered spirits, who boast to wander and alienate themselves from the way which all Saints have held, and searching out new paths, find every where illusions and precipices. All these lovers of innovation and proper judgement, are Pharaoh's Counsellours, who have drunk in the cup of giddiness.

There is likewise found a little book of Apo­thegmes, Interrogare sapientem di­midia sapien­tia est. Homo sapiens est quā ­diu quaerit sa­pientiam: ubi putatse ad e­jus culmen per­venisse, desipit. 6. An assu­red butt. translated out of Arabick into Latine by Drusus, which hath these remarkeable words: To consult with the wise, is to be already half wife. A man is wise so long as he seeketh wisdom, but when he sup­poseth he hath throughly attained it, then he becometh a fool.

VI. To have an assured scope to aim at, not one­ly in general, which is to seek in all things the great­est glory of God, and ones own salvation, but also in particular to make and propose to your self a re­gular and well-pondered course of life. Some have so many affairs that they have not leisure either to live or die, others have nothing to do, and are per­petually wandering, and as it were looking for the key of their house, and never entering into it. We Vacation. must take in hand some employment and moderate retirement, therein following the inspiration of God, an intention pure to live in the place which shall be most proper for us, to unite our selves to him according to our capacity, following withal the consultation which we ought to make with our own natural constitution, the direction of those who know and govern us, provided they be dis-interes­sed from their own passions. It is a business of no small importance to have good success herein. Some find without thinking thereof, conditions which seem made to their nature, as the nest of the Hal­cyon is fit to his body. Others, for that they have made a false step, are enforced to bite the bridle all their life time, if by patience they do not correct the defects of their carriage. Above all things it is convenient here to purifie your intentions, and if you must be embarqued in the Court life, not to come thither as a Jannisary or a Mamaluck, to make a for­tune, and do nothing else.

VII. To embrace a true and solid piety, such as 7. Solid pie­ty. our Fore-fathers have consigned over to us in all simplicity, and such as the Church instructeth us. Not to plaister nor disguise it for the accommoda­tion of these petty ends: Such a practice is a great abomination, and cannot in conclusion avoid dread­ful and dangerous accidents. You must serve God interiourly with great sincerity of heart, and most pure thoughts of his Majesty; exteriourly applying Synesius de regul. ad Ar­cad. [...]. your self to ordinary services and ceremonies with most sincere freedom, without superstitions, scruples, vanities, presumptions, singularities. Behold (saith Synesius) the basis of the estate and total greatness of man.

VIII. To frame to your self a soul which is in a certain temper of integrity, consisting in well 8. Honesty. following the light of nature, and the touch of Heaven, which teacheth us we must do to another all that which we would have others to do unto us, and not to offer to another what we dislike in our selves. Behold the road-way of honesty, which whosoever forsaketh to become craftie, ever byas­sing to his pretended advantages, shall in the end of his account, find himself deceived. That great fore­mentioned Emperour Antoninus saith, the wisdom of man consisteth in three points: well to behave Antonin. l. 5. de vita sua. himself towards God, which is done by Religion; with himself, which is done by mortification of his passions; and with men, which is effected by spa­ring and tolerating them, every where doing good, and after he hath done good, to have his ears prepa­red to hear evil.

IX. To govern his desires within the limits of his 9. Govern­ment of pre­tensions. capacity and modesty. It is a great note of folly to attempt all things, and do nothing; to be turmoyl­ed with the present, and to have always the throat of an enraged concupiscence gaping after the time to come; to be vexed with himself, and not to be of power to repose within himself; to make the steps of honour the degrees of his ruin; to raise a fortune like a huge Colossus, to make it fall upon his Senec. ep. [...]. Contemnere omnia quivis potest, omnia habere nem [...]. own shoulders, and to leave no other witnesses of his greatness, but the prints of his fall. It is a thing very difficult to have much, and impossible to have all, but it is so easie a matter to despise all, that it consisteth in nothing but in a bare refusal.

X. To procure such an equality of spirit, so even 10. Tran­quility. so regular, that he scarcely feel the approach of hap­piness, and when it is lost, not to make any shew of it. To behold the good of another as his own, and his own as another mans. To hold riches and honours as a river that glideth to day for you, to morrow for another. It is the nature thereof al­ways to run gently; what wrong doth it to us? When prosperity laugheth on you, look back upon adversity which cometh in the rere, and remember you have seen tall ships lost in the harbour, even as it were in jest. S. Augustine pleased to repeat that verse of Virgil: ‘Mene sali placidi vultum, fluctus (que) quietos August. ep. 113. & alibi. Ignorare jubes?’ desirous thereby to signifie to us, that we should no more confide in the prosperities of the world, than to a still sea, which in his over-great calm oft-times presageth the near approaching tempest. Brave and valorous Captains heretofore made a Sacrifice to war in the midst of peace, and in the midst of war dressed Altars to Peace; to declare that in good, we should live in distrust of ill, and in evil, in hope of good, but in both the one and the other ever in equa­lity. This verily is one of the master-pieces of wis­dom, which God imparteth to spirits greatly resign­ed, and who have passed through the most thin and slender searces.

XI. To behave ones self prudently in all kind of 11. Discreti­on in affairs. occasions, to examine the tenents and utmost bounds, the original, progress, end. Never to judge, till you have seen the bottom of the business, and therein to carry your self so, that if success cannot wait on your desires, you may not justly accuse either any crooked intention, or want of discretion. We are masters of our wils, but God hath reserved to himself the com­mand over events.

XII. To be always ready to depart from hence 12. Medita­tion of death. chearfully, when death shall sound the retreat. Saint Chrysostom saith finely: This life is a nest framed of straw Chrys. hom. 2. in epist. Pauli ad Coloss. and morter: we are the little birds, shall we putrifie in the stench of this filthy nest? If devotion hath made us wings, why are we slothful? Let us bravely mount and take that flight which our Eagle tracked out unto us in the day of his Ascension. Remember, the quintessence of al wisdom is the meditation of death. It is a business we should learn all our life time to exercise it once. The faults therein committed are irreparable, and the loss without recovery. This con­sisteth in three things, resignation, dis-engagement, and union. As for resignation be not too faint-hearted, nor suffer your self to be called upon to pay a debt, which so many millions of men have discharged be­fore you, and which so many millions shall likewise pay after you: shew to those who visit you, patience in your sickness, resolution at your last hour, and not to desire any thing but spiritual assistances.

As for your departure, go out of the world as the chicken out of the shell.

I. Dispose of your temporal goods in time by ma­king a just, clear, and perspicuous will. 2. Restore the goods of another. 3. Pay your debts as far as you can. 4. Lay open your affairs. 5. Give pious legacies, to charge the Altars of mercy with the last victims, 6. Reconcile your self, and above all things beware you carry not with you too much confidence and inordinate affection into the other world 7. Take order for the education of your children. 8. Dis­pose of offices, if you have any, with an upright con­science. 9. Forget not the labours of your poor ser­vants. [Page 68] After this disengagement draw the curtain betwixt your self and all creatures. By a good con­fession unite your self to your Creatour, by the sa­cred viaticum, extream unction, by acts of faith, hope, and charitie, by good suffrages of the Church, good admonitions, good purposes, good remembrances of the death of our Saviour, yielding your soul up up­on a Crucifix, as a child who sleepeth on the breast of his nurce.

The eigthth SECTION. The Practice of Devotion and Prayer.

ONe of the shortest ways to gain wisdom is to be devout. Devotion is as it were the flame and lightening-flash of charitie: and it is properly a prompt and affectionate vivacitie in Voluntas qu [...] ­dam prompta tradendi se ad ea quae perti­nent ad Dei famulatum. S. Th. 2. 2. quaest. 82. S. Dionys. de divin. nomin. cap. 3. Prayer in mount Tabor things which concern the service of God. It principally shineth in prayer and in the exer­cise of the works of mercy. Prayer, as saith the great Saint Dionysius the Areopagite, is as it were a chain of silver, which from heaven hangeth down­ward to draw man up from earth, and unite him to God. It is the mount Tabor, where an admirable transfiguration is made of the soul into God: It is the spirit which speaketh to God, which poureth it self on God; in conclusion it is coloured by God, even as Jacobs ews did denote their burden to be of Genes. 30. the same colour of which those wands were that they stedfastly beheld. It is it which the Apostle pleased to say, Beholding the glory of God, we are transfigu­red Corinth. 2. 3. Gloriam Do­mini speculan­tes in eandem imaginem transforma­mur, à clarita­te in clarita­tem tanquam à Domini spiri­tu. into the same image from brightness to brightness, as by the spirit of God. Prayer is the conduit of grace. It is (as very well S. Ephraim hath said) The stand­ard of our warfare, the conservation of our peace, the bridle of our impatience, the guardian of temper­ance, the seal of virginitie, the advocate of offenders, the consolation of the afflicted, the sepulture of the dying. For the just are buried in prayer as the Phe­nix Praise of prayer. in perfumes. Prayer doth all. A Christian with­out prayer is a Bee without sting, who will neither make honey nor wax. It is to little purpose to pro­pose unto you the mysteries of faith and the maxims of Christian wisdom, if you use not meditation to ruminate them. It is as meat cast into a stomack without digestion, which will do more hurt than good, not of its own nature, but by your indisposi­tion which is bad. From hence proceed the desola­tions of the earth. From hence are derived so many fals, so many miseries, for that men apply not them­selves to tast the things of God in prayer.

That which ought to incite us to this exercise, is, Necessitie of prayer. first the necessitie, which is so great, that in matter of spiritual life, it is as requisite to pray, as in the ani­mal to breath. We are choaked with flesh and fat O [...] meum ape­rui & attraxi spiritum. and the flames of concupiscence, unless we upon all occasions open our mouthes to take the gentle air of God.

Secondly, the pleasures we therein take, in process of time, is verily that which the prophet Isaiah cal­leth Sabbatum delicatum, the delicate Sabbath. As Isaiah 58. Sabbatum de­licatum. Pleasure. Sola, prima, ac luminosissima veritas cibus est nostri intel­lectus. Sola prima inun­dantissimáque bonitas cibus nostri nobilis ac sublimis af­fectus. Perfection of the soul. Albert. de virtut. c. 37. much as to say, the delicious repose of the soul. The corporal eye (as saith the learned Prelate William of Paris) maketh its repast upon the beauty of the fields, the flowers, the heavens, the stars, and on all the objects which are found in this universe. But the eye of contemplation by the means of prayer nou­risheth it self with the excellencie of God and the perfections of Jesus.

Thirdly, the puritie and perfection of the soul, which is derived from this exercise, ought to serve us as a special spur. There it is (saith Albertus Ma­gnus) where we carrie our mouthes even to the source and wel-spring of virtue. There it is where God is known, and knowing him that we love him, and in lo­ving him we search him, in searching him we take pains, and in taking pains we find him.

In the fourth place, we have the example of our Pernoctans in oratione Dei. Luc. 6. 12. Saviour who for our instruction spent the nights in prayer, the example of the Apostles and all Saints, who have practiced and recommended this ex­ercise to us.

The ninth SECTION. The necessitie of Confession.

MEn resemble snails, every one carrieth his own house with him, a house wholy reple­nished with darkness, although it ever seem lightsom: A house, which hath neither door nor win­dow, though therein be a thousand witnesses which see all that passeth with as many eyes as heaven hath stars: A house composed of labyrinths, yet cannot the Host hide himself in it: A house whereinto the sun peepeth not, and yet may even the very least atoms be seen: A house, wherein there are perpetual pleadings, yet never any issue of process but with issue of life. Finally, a house which hath two faces altogether different, the one called hell, the other Paradise. In a word, this house whereof I speak, is the conscience. It is full of darkness, for the thoughts Nullus molesti­or oculus cui (que) suo. Bern. l. [...]5. de confiderat. of men are involved in such a cloud of obscuritie, that neither the devils nor Angels themselves see any thing therein, yet is it lightsom, for ever the eye of proper conscience reflecteth thereon. There is no door nor window, for all is very close shut up; yet do a thousand witnesses fix their eyes thereon, for the conscience alone is called a thousand-witnesses. It is composed of labyrinths, for there are all flexibi­lities and subtil mazes: in this labyrinth the host Putásne Deus è vicino ego sum & non Deus de longe? Hierem. 23. cannot hide himself; for it is ever day-pierced by the eye of God, before whom neither the abyss nor hell it self hath darkness enough to hide it. The sun peepeth not in there, for in effect its light which dis­playeth all the objects of the world before our eyes, cannot discover the simplest of our thoughts; yet may the very least atoms be seen, for there is not any thing so subtil which can free it self from the eyes of God. They perpetually plead there; for every mo­ment Aula Sathanae, hortus delicia­rum, & aure­um reclinato­rium. Bernard. de interiori do­mo. Ambr. in il­lud rerela Domino vi­am tuam. the conscience chalengeth us even upon the least sins, and the issue of the process concludeth not but with the end of life, because at that very hour the decisive sentence of our eternitie is given.

In fine, this house hath two faces, whereof the one is called hell, to wit the evil conscience, and the other Paradise, that is the good and innocent, which we cannot throughly settle in this great corruption of the heart of man but by a good confession.

Too much shade hurteth seeds which begin to Idem. grow, darkness duls them, and the eye of the sun serves them as a father. Assure your self the buds of virtue hold the same course, there must be day to bring them into the light, and he who will hide his life, shall loose all the fruit he may hope thereof. Bernard. de interiori do­mo. cap. 37. Confession is the price of our immortalitie, the citie of refuge given us by God: but if it be once ill managed it is not a confession, but a double confusion, for feigned miserie excludeth true mercie, nor did ever presumption well accord with pitie.

Among the most especial exercises of devotion are confession, communion, meditation, spiritual lection, and the fruit we derive from the word of God. Concerning the practise of confession we will onely speak with much brevitie thereof, for at this pre­sent there are great store of books which teach this method. Hear a true observation made by Saint August. tract. 12. in Joan. Augustine, That the beginning of our good [Page 69] works, is the accusation of our evil. If you desire ut­terly to forsake the animal life to submit to the spi­ritual, put in the fore-front a good general confes­sion. Gulielm. Paris. de Sacrament Poenitent. l. 12. Matth. 17. Confession (saith S. Ambrose) is the price of our immortality: It is the tribute of Heaven, signified by the piece of coyn which S. Peter found in the mouth of a fish.

Necessity seems to require it, for the reasons which General con­fession the beginning of spiritual life. follow. First, how many sins are left by the way, how many by culpable ignorance, sometimes through fear, and shame, and other reprehensible manner? Se­condly, what invalidities and nullities of confession may happen, now by the defect of the Priest, who perhaps hath not sufficient jurisdiction, sometime through your own indisposition, who neither will have sorrow nor good purpose of amendment, and sometime for other circumstances? Thirdly, who Its utility. seeth not that the foundation of a life truly Chri­stian, is humility? And we know not how better to attain this virtue, than by representing to our selves, no longer by piece-meal, but wholly in gross, the youth, follies, the slackness, negligences, infidelities, and impurities of our passed life. All that coming to pour it self upon our consideration, like a great squadron, necessarily stirreth in us a great confusion and dolour for our ingratitude. In the fourth place, we ordinarily see those who duely make this act, unfolded and delivered in all its particulars, do come as it were out of the furnace, sparkling with radiant brightness, to form a life absolutely new. You there­in observe a conscience most [...]urious, intentions bet­ter rectified, actions more purified, a promptness bet­ter awakened for the service of God, a modesty more regular in prosperity, a heart more elevated in adversity, a more generous contempt of the world. Briefly although one should reap but this onely good which is the peace and tranquility of conscience, it would always be a matter marvellously recommend­able. And we know by experience, many conscien­ces tormented with divers remorses and scruples, have after a general confession, found themselves wholly pacified, and have begun to breath a more be­nign air of the mercies of God. To proceed there­in, it is good well to sound your heart afore-hand, The manner. and to cescend into the knowledge of your self, which is a work of no small importance.

The tenth SECTION. The Practice of Confession.

THe heart of man is a little abyss which seem­eth Heart of man Pravian cor hominis & in­scrutabile. Hier. 17. neither to have bounds, bottom, nor shore. It is malicious and inscrutable, said the Prophet. The Hebrew readeth in the same place, that it is a supplanter, who escapeth from us like an eel, when we think to hold it, and oftentimes it over­throweth us. The great S. Macarius assureth us it is Macar. hom. 43. a little vessel, but full of caverns, labyrinths, preci­pices, lyons, serpents, and other venemous beasts. Moreover self-love, which oftentimes like a wicked Knowledge of ones self very hard. watch-man placeth himself at the gate of our heart, will not suffer truth to approach. It maketh him think, it is too crude, drie, austere, old, wrinckled to be presented to such a Prince. In the mean time it relateth all things to the heart to its own advantage, Self-love. and entertaineth it with a thousand curiosities of conceits. It maketh all vices to be beheld therein in full proportion, and virtue in eclipse.

This admitted, necessarily the assistance of God is to be implored in a very particular manner, to ob­tain the knowledge of our selves, and to labour there­in couragiously and stoutly without flattering our selves. God threateneth in the Prophet, he will lay a heavy correction upon us, leaving us to our selves. Psal. 49. Arguam te, & statuam contra faciem tuam. It seemeth we now have our heads turned back­ward, never to know what passeth in our hearts. But God in the day of judgement will turn it be­fore, and, if we take not very good heed, to our con­fusion. S. Augustine triumpheth upon this passage: August. in Psal. 49. Quae post dor­sum posuisti ante faciem po­nam: videbis foeditatem tu­am non ut cor­rigas, sedut erubescae. Tol­le te à tergo tuo, & consti­tue te ante te. That which thou hast put behind thee, I will place be­fore thine eyes. Thou shalt see thy impurities, not to correct them, but to confound thee. Turn thy face, go behind thy self, and set thy self before thy self.

The manner will be after an humble and serious invocation of the Holy Ghost, to call to mind all your life, according to the course and progress of ages, remembring your self of the places where you have made abode, the persons with whom you have conversed, the affairs which you have handled, the sins to which you have been most inclined, and which most afflict your conscience. Observing al­so (if it be possible) the number of those which are most heinous, which if it cannot be done, do not search them out with pensiveness and anxiety.

The order which ought to be observed, is, to run Multa D. Th. opusc. 64. de medo confi­tendi & pu­ritate con­scientiae. through the law or the ten Commandments of God, and those of the Church, taking every one in his place. As upon the first Commandment, to examine the sins of infidelity, of contempt of holy things, of impiety, forceries, divinations, magick, dreams, su­perstitions, distrusts of the mercy of God, presumpti­ons of ones own ability, languishment, coldness hy­pocrisies, impurities, sacriledges in the service of God; speaking distinctly upon every word, wherein and how I by what motive and to what purpose.

II. Upon the second, unnecessary oaths, false oaths, blasphemies, execrations, profanation of things sacred and words of Scripture.

III. Upon the third, the exercise of labour, traffick, of civil and criminal justice, and other works for­bidden on Sundays.

The irreverence committed on this great day, in neglecting to hear the whole Mass, or some notable part thereof, and employing all your time in excess of tongue, dances, masks, follies, sensualities.

IV. Upon the fourth, contempt, hatred, distast, in­gratitude, irreuerence, disobedience towards father and mother, kindred, and Superiours: Neglect to­wards your subjects, vassals, and houshold-servants.

V. Upon the fifth, the clamours, enmities, quarrels, violences, faithlesness, injustices, oppressions, poison­ings, abortions, slaughters, malice, outrages, cruelties committed against your neighbour. The ill usage of your own person, by perplexity, despair, or impatient desire of death.

VI. Upon the sixth, fornications, adulteries, incests, whoredoms, ravishments, secret marriages, sacri­ledges, self-softnesses, pollutions, ill use of marriage, and other infamous luxuries, which Tertullian term­eth monsters. Adde all that which attendeth on wantonness, as dishonest thoughts, unchaste words, lascivious glancings, kisses, touches, books, pictures, comedies, love-letters, dancings, masks, too free con­versations with evident danger of sin, and sometime charms, love-potions, or other attractives, charact­ers, and witch-crafts.

VII. Upon the seventh, thefts, pilferies, robberies, connivence with thieves, falsification of instruments, of letters, seals, wills, contracts, scedules, obligations, false purchases, false buyings, false sales, false coyns, deceits, defraudations, surprizes, usurpations of the goods of the Church, simonies, usuries, delays of reasonable payments, injustices, litigious wranglings, excessive expences, foul play in game, cruelties toward the poor, and such like things.

VIII. Upon the eighth, false witnesses and sollicita­tions thereof, calumnies, diffamatory libels, lies, im­postures, hypocrisies, dissimulations, flatteries, treasons, confusion of your neighbour.

IX. Upon the ninth, enterprizes and designs con­trary to marriage, by seducing the parties with words, signs, gestures, letters, gifts, attractions, with delibe­rate purpose and unbridled desire of sin.

X. Upon the tenth, disordinate thirst of riches, prin­cipally to the prejudice of your neighbour.

Upon the commandments of the Church, the omissions of Mass, or notable negligences and distractions in hearing it on feasts commanded. The sin against ab­stinence from meats and fasts appointed; against the use of Sacraments of confession and communion; against the observation of times fit for marriage, a­gainst faith and sincerity in the payment of tythes.

Amongst the sins against the law of God and or­dinances of the Church are comprehended the seven sins, which we call mortal and capital. As against the first Commandment, the sin of pride, in the great opinion of your self, the obstinacy in your own judge­ment and will, the disobedience to Superiours, the ambition of honours, vanities, vaunts, follies. The sin of sloth, in slackness, ill expence of time, negli­gence, remisness of courage, pusillanimity. The sin of gluttony, in making a god of ones belly. The sin of avarice upon the seventh. The sin of wrath and envy upon the fifth. The sin of luxury upon the sixth. Behold an abundance of matter to be examined in a general confession. All is proposed which may have happened. I do not say that we must rest upon every point scrupulously, to search into that which never hath been, and (as they say) shave an egge. Every one ought more particularly to descend into Particular sins. the vices of his own nature and profession; as Lords and Gentlemen to examine the sins of pride, tyranny, curiosity, delights, in looking after their pleasures more than the profit of the publick, in exacting things not due, in usurping the pains, goods, sweat, bloud of vassals, and, being men, to have served themselves with men in all prodigality. In neglecting the keep­ing of peace and justice, the duty, charges, and re­paration of places to which they stand obliged. In giving estates, offices, benefices, to vitious and unca­pable persons. In violating ecclesiastical rites. In no­tably damnifying, for the pleasures of hunting and hawking, the fields and possessions of others. In stop­ping the course of justice by favour. In vexing, tor­menting, imprisonning, condemning through passion, without lawful proof. In overlashing, in ambition, lust, bragging, excessive expences and such like things.

Judges and Magistrates, of ignorance, malice, neg­ligences, as being intruded into their places without capacity, by favour and money. In behaving them­selves carelesly, without serious study of that which is their profession. In not soundly, seriously, and so­lidly examining processes, but contenting themselves with superficial notice. In giving sentence for mo­ney and favour, and many times against men un­heard, without order or form of justice. In going out of the circuit of their jurisdiction, to encroach upon the authority of others. In bearing themselves with passion in affairs. In entertaining bad officers, in prolonging processes by cautelous references or affected laziness. In solliciting the wife and daught­er, who plead upon promise of favour. In exercising on festival days acts of judicature without necessity. In neglecting the government and weal-publick, for the accommodation of his own affairs. In tollerating scandalous sins against the honour of God.

Women, about their pomps, curiosities, excesses, Practice of ordinary confession. dissolutions in apparel and dressings, pride, fierce­ness, boldness, impatience, quarrels, loves, jealousies, courtings, idleness, and so of rhe rest.

For those who often confess in ordinary confes­sions, it sufficeth to examine their thoughts, words, deeds, omissions. Of thoughts, some are burdensom, Thoughts of four sorts. some affected, some bitter, some vain. The burden­som, as those which proceed against faith and hone­sty, to persons who much are alienated from ill affe­ctions; and such thoughts ought rather to be de­spised than examined. The affected, as those of com­placence, of curiosity, of our own commodity, and of some passion a little exorbitant towards creatures. The bitter, as those of suspitions, jealousies, disdains, aversions, choller. The vain, as those which are brought forth at all moments in the childishness of a scattered uncollected heart, and flie therein as birds do in the air. It is as impossible as unnecessary to take an account of them. It is sufficient to confess in general, and to declare the habitudes and dispo­sitions of his heart.

Words are the interpreters of our soul, and the Words the chariot of the soul. chariots which carry our senses and affections: Some carry rice, others honey, the rest vineger. They car­ry rice, who are over-joyous, recreative, impertinent, idle, facetious. They carry honey, who have petty affectations, courtships, lies, exaggerations, compla­cences, flatteries, soothings, boastings. And they bear vineger, who are somewhat rude, fierce, disdain­ful, biting, riotous, and ill-spoken.

Deeds concern God, your neighbour, and your Works. self. For that which appertaineth to God, you must first accuse your self of defects in the exercises of de­votion, as prayer, vocal, mental, meditation, examen, spiritual reading, the Sacraments. For that which appertaineth to your neighbour and your self, you have four horses in the chariot of imperfection, which transport many of your actions, to wit, vanity, im­patience, curiosity, negligence.

Vanity intrudeth it self into all parts, saith Cassia­nus: into apparel, going, speech, into watchings, prayers, into abstinencies and fasts. It combateth in the midst of virtues, to triumph over virtues. It presenteth it self as well to the victorious, as to the assaylant. Impatience, in so many contentions and encounters with your neighbour, and if one have no other adversary he strugleth with himself. Curiosity, in too much seeking his own commodities and ease of body. Negligences in offices, in mannaging of af­fairs and charges: omissions, as of good resolved purposes of prayer, and laudable actions, which one ought to do either by justice, or by charity, or by vow, or by rule, or by promise, or necessity. One may upon this choose seven or eight imperfections which most molest him, to be therein short.

Behold as it were the matter of Confessions. For the form to unfold ones self, no man should make strange, if some for the comfort of their memory, having run over the abridgement and summary of matter of Confession, do make an extract of that which concerneth them, principally in general Con­fessions. The wisest of the Roman Emperours, Au­gustus, was so considerate, that treating upon some affairs with his wife, he spake to her by writing, to avoid mistaking. Can a man take too much consi­deration in an affair of so great importance, which passeth with God?

When the principal points are marked out, they must be explicated in intelligible terms. There are Three sorts of conscien­ces. some large consciences who have nothing to say, some scrupulous, who desire to say all, and some rea­sonable, who proceed therein with mediocrity. To say he is a great sinner, that he hath broken all the branches of mortal sins, that he hath not served God so well as he should, and that if he have done such or such a thing, he asketh pardon, that is to say no­thing. You must specifie and descend to particulars, propose the act, deliver it with lawful and necessary circumstances, touch the motive without extrava­gancies, and the intention which hath excited us to do it, and continuance of the sin, to represent the state of the soul to the life. Yet for all this you must not so much think upon this preparation nor the means to unfold your self, that thereby the principal [Page 71] part of penance be neglected, which is contrition.

This contrition is a sorrow to have offended God, Contrition. not principally for the deformity of sin, and the fear of punishment (for that is nothing but attrition) but for that this sin is committed against God, in­finitely good, and infinitely amiable; and for that one maketh a firm resolution to be confessed, and to preserve himself from sin in time to come. Be­hold the point of contrition, which to attain you must seriously and advisedly represent to your self the greatness, goodness, power, wisdom, justice, love, mer­cy, benefits of God; opposed to your malice, weak­ness, Hostility of sin. baseness, ignorance, presumption, misery, ingra­titude, and well figure to your self the hostility of mortal sin, to obtain an eternal detestation against it. To consider how it ruineth riches, honours, credit, reputation, posterity, and Empires. That it soyleth the glory of an innocent life, and leaveth a character of infamy. That it overthroweth bodies, health, good grace; that it openeth the gates of sudden and unex­pected death. That it maketh man blind, dumb, deaf, wicked, senseless, stupid, savage, and many times furious and enraged by the remorse of conscience. That it dispoileth a soul of all the graces, beauties, excellencies, priviledges, love, favour of God, hope of life and salvation. That it killeth it, and rendeth it more cruelly than a tiger or panther. That a life of God was needful to take away such a blemish, and that if a soul be spotted at the hour of death, an eter­nity of flames cannot deliver it, and such like.

In sins which seem least, you shall always have great cause of contrition, when the benefits of God shall be represented unto you, which he particularly and personally hath conferred upon us, opposed to our childishness of heart, tepidity, slackness, infide­lity, negligence, ingratitude. As for the proceeding Proceeding in confession. to confession, the preparatives being well made, it is needful to choose a Confessour who hath four qua­lities, jurisdiction, reputation, knowledge, discre­tion, and after you have confessed to him entirely, faithfully, sincerely, to accomplish the penance en­joyned you with obedience, promptness, and punctual diligence, afterward to take a new spirit, to resist temptations, and to busie your self in good works with more courage than ever.

The eleventh SECTION. The Practice of Examen.

THe practice of Confession is made more ea­sie Necessity of examen. by the examen of conscience, as well ge­neral as particular. Think not too much is required of your profession, if there be speech used to you of the examen of conscience. Not one­ly the Philosophers have made it, as Pythagoras, Seneca, Plutarch, but poor barbarous Indians, by the relation of Apulejus, took an account every even­ing of the good and evil they had done each day. This is it, which is required of you. Prepare dai­ly a little Consistory of justice in your conscience; see what passeth within your self, acknowledge your defects, and amend them to prevent the justice of God.

It is said the eclipse of the Sun causeth the earth­quake: and the eclipse of reason by ignorance of the interiour man produceth great disorders in the Culielm. Pa­ri [...]iens. c. 12. Sacro poenite. In hoc Tribu­nali sedet mi­sericordia, as­sidet autem ju­stitia, ubi quic­quid contra poenitentem in­scribit justi­tia, totum de­let misericor­dia, acumen styli velut [...]i­gens in corde poenitentis. soul. For the wicked spirit (saith Procopius) upon the first of Kings, endeavoureth to use us as did the Ammonites the inhabitants of Jabes: They seek to pull out our right eye, and to bereave us of the sight of our selves, to bury us in great and deep confusions. But let us make use of all the lights which God hath given us, to cast reflections into the bottom of our thoughts. The conscience is an admirable Tribunal, where Justice pleadeth and Mercie sentenceth. All that which the me writes, the other blotteth out, putting as it were the point of the pen upon the heart of the penitent.

A good Interpreter of the Scripture relateth the Delrio ser. de Conscientia. vision of a wise man, who on a day sought for the house of conscience, and it seemed to him he be­held a Citie built with goodly architecture, beauti­fied with five gates, which had as many narrow paths ending in one larger way. Upon this way stood a Register, who took the names of all passen­gers to record them. Beyond that he saw two Tri­bunes, attended by a great concourse of the com­mon people, who governed the inferiour parts of the Citie: above was beheld a Cittadel, wherein a great Princess commanded, who had a scepter in hand and crown on her head.

By her side was a Ladie very ancient and venerable, who in one hand held a torch with which she light­ed this Queen, and in the other a goad wherewith she pricked her, if she governed not according to her direction.

The wise man amazed, asked in his heart what all this train meant, and he heard a voice within, which said unto him: Behold thy self ere thou art aware, arrived at the house of conscience, which thou [...]oughtest for. These five gates thou seest are the five senses. The way where they all meet is common sense: All the people which enter in by heaps, are the objects of the creatures of the world, which first touch our senses before they pass into the soul. This Register who writeth down the names, is imagina­tion, that keeps record of all things: These two Tri­bunes are the two appetites, the one is called the ap­petite of concupiscence, which is ever in search after its desires, the other the appetite of anger, extream­ly striving to strike at all obstacles which oppose its good, either real or pretended: This mass of people thou seest, are the passions, which make ill work in the inferiour parts of the Citie: This Princess in the Cittadel with crown and scepter, is reason: The ancient and venerable Ladie by her side, is consci­ence: She hath a torch to shew the good way, and the goad to prick those that wander: In a word, if Dictamen ra­tionis, spiritus corrector, & paedagogus ani­mae. S. Thom. 1. p. q. 79. thou desirest to know what conscience is, it is a so­vereign notice of good and ill, which God impres­seth on our hearts as with a hot iron, and is very hard to be taken off.

Happy he who often visiteth this interiour house God hath given him, and pondereth all his thoughts, his words, and actions, to adopt them to the measures of the eternal law.

You know a general examen hath five parts: Parts. Thanksgiving, invocation, discussion, petition, resolu­tion. In thanksgiving, we thank God principally for the benefits received that day. In invocation the light of heaven is required to know our sins, and a­mend them. In discussion an account is asked of our soul, running through the hours of the day, of thoughts, words, works, and omissions. In petition pardon of our sins is implored. In the up-shot of all, good purposes are made to correct ones self by the assistance of grace. If you think to live in such pu­rity, that you may find nothing more to examine, it is for want of light or application of mind. Know there are six things ever to busie the most perfect in their examen.

The first, to ponder the roots of our defects, er­rours, Six things in examen to employ the most perfect. imperfections. The second, to see the reme­dies which may be given thereunto. The third, to distinguish true and solid virtues from those which are no other than virtues in apparence. The fourth, to pick out in all our works the intentions and mo­tives which transport us, and what the affections are which at that time govern our soul. The fifth, [Page 72] to see what wanteth of perfection in good works which we do, and how they may be performed with the most accomplishment. The sixth, to compare our gains, our losses, our encrease, our decrease in matter of virtue.

A particular examen is made, when one underta­keth Particular examen. to wrastle with one vice alone, and to extirpate one sole imperfection. For he that will sometime strike at them in gross, resembleth the souldier of Ser­torius, Plutar. in Ser­tor. who tugged at a horses tayl, by strength of arm to pull it quite away: Another more wise pulled it off hair after hair, and so prevailed. The like hap­peneth in our vices and defects. He must pull them away by little threads, who will effectually correct them. Wherefore, one riseth in the morning with a thought not to fall that day into such an imperfecti­on, and to oppose it in every place, as some enemy which one would vanquish. After dinner retiring himself apart, he doth three things. The first, to ask an account of his soul of the relapses which have been made into this imperfection. The second, to note the number, making so many pricks with a pen. The third, to purpose to arm himself for the rest of the day. After supper the like exercise is made, and so one findeth out from day to day, from week to week, from moneth to moneth, what profit is made. There is no imperfection so deeply rooted which is not pulled away by the grace of God, you remaining in the constancy of such an exercise.

The twelfth SECTION. The practice of Communion.

ALl those who dispose themselves to a life more Christian, know they have not a means more wholesom nor effectual to acquire and pre­serve the grace of God, than the Sacrament of the Altar, and for this cause it is fit both often and duely to have access thereunto. But a beautiful looking-glass Communion without pre­paration, what it is. in a golden frame in the house of a blind man; an excellent lute in the chamber of the deaf; a good­ly diamond in a truss of straw; a honey-comb in the throat of a dead lyon, what availeth all this? The blind man seeth not, the deaf heareth not, the dia­mond sparkleth not, the honey-comb nourisheth not. And what profiteth likewise the blessed Sa­crament in a faint, languishing, and indisposed soul? Imagine according to that which the lear­ned Eucharist the foundation of Paradise. Rupertus saith, that the Blessed Sacrament is the fountain of terrestrial Paradise, which wa­tereth the whole Church with its delicious refresh­ings.

All the faithful draw from thence, but all come Three sorts of hearts. not with the same disposition. Some bring thither a heart of paper, that is to say, a childish heart which padleth in the water and no whit profiteth. Others, a heart like a sive, that lets all go through, and re­taineth nothing but a little moysture. The rest a heart of a sponge, which is abundantly replenished with the favours and mercies of God. If you desire to communicate fruitfully, make a present to your celestial spouse (who is pleased to feed among lilies) of a lilie of six leaves. There are six remarkable qua­lities Lilie with six leaves to communicate which must be had to accomplish this exer­cise. Two before communicating, desire and pu­ritie: Two in communicating, humility and charity: Two after communicating, thanksgi­ving and renovation of the inward man by the oath of fidelity.

You must then endeavour from the eve of the day Desire. you are to receive, to make a furnace of desires in your heart, that so you may say with the Prophet Jeremie: I feel in my heart a burning fire, which fixeth Jer. 20. Factus est i [...] ▪ corde meo quasi ignis exaestu­ans claususque in ossibus meis, & defeci ferre non sustinens. it self even in my bones, and the violence thereof is such that I cannot bear it. Let us go to this sacred table as the thirsty Hart to the stream of waters, as an hungry creature to a feast, as the bridegroom to the wedding a thousand times desired, as the covetous to a myne of gold, as the conquerer to spoils. Is not there mat­ter sufficient to serve as a spur to your desires, since there is our beginning, our origen, our treasure, our sovereign good?

The mother of young Tobie sighing said: My son, Tob. 10. Omnia simul in te uno ha­bentes non de­buimus demit­tere te. all our treasures, our riches, our honours, our content­ments, our delights were in thy person, and therefore we ought never to be separated from thee. But it is verily in this subject, we have true cause to speak these words. All is in the sacred Eucharist; the body, the bloud, the soul, the life, the humanity, the divinity of Greatness of the Eucharist. Jesus Christ, all that which he hath derived from the Eternal Father, all that which he hath taken from our nature, he yieldeth us in this blessed Sacrament, and doth as the bee who robbeth the flowers of his Masters garden, to restore all again in honey. All the perfections which our Lord hath conferred on his own Person, are seasoned to us in this high and ma­jestical mysterie, as in a honey-comb. It is an exten­sion of the Incarnation of the Son of God: He was once hypostatically united to one sole man, but here he is united to all men as oftentimes as they receive him by a visceral transfusion of himself, as one should melt one piece of waxe within another (as saith S. Cyril.) And then who would not desire such an union of a Saviour so merciful with a sinner so miserable? of a sovereign Physitian with a sick man so remediless? of a King so powerful with a vassal so wretched? of a Father so benign with a son so refra­ctary? May we not well say, that they which tast not this celestial viand have their rellishes much dulled with the leeks and onions of Aegypt? May we not affirm that they lead no other life but of a mushrome? Ought we not al the night before to make our hearts sparkle in good desires and jaculatory prayers, when we go to the bed of our celestial bridegroom.

Endeavour then to awaken and cherish your desire with a thousand aspirations and elevations of heart, and have always in your mouth some good words, which may be the pledges and earnest-penies of your intentions. Behold the first leaf of the lilie.

The second is called purity. I speak not of that Second leaf of the lilie, puritie. which concerneth the purging of mortal sins by con­fession, which is wholly necessary, and cannot be omitted without sacriledge; I speak of purity more subtile and fine, which consisteth in faith, affections, and intentions. You ought first to have a singular What ought to be the faith of a good commu­nicants. faith, and a most worthy and serious understanding of the mysterie, not onely in believing what the Church teacheth us of this Sacrament, either of the reality of the precious body of our Saviour, or of transubstantiation; but to believe it sincerely, clearly, firmly, without curiosity, restriction, or hesitation; not as those who convinced, and as it were confoun­ded with reason, do in some sort believe, and upon the least occasion repent in their faithless heart what they have believed, & make to themselves a faith floa­ting and racking up and down, like clouds under the breath of the winds. When you go to receive the Blessed Sacrament, you must do as Abraham did in his Sacrifice, hold the bond-men and ass, which are your senses, at the foot of the hill, and let your will and understanding ascend, lightened with the torch of faith, even to the height, to sink it self down into those resplendent nights of the wisdom of Heaven.

For purity of intention, which is the character of Intention. our actions, I would have nothing side-ways nor bearing upon any byass: I will not that you com­municate for some humane respect, some civil de­cencie, or to please those whose favour you desire, [Page 73] nor for some trifling vanity, and sometimes hypocri­sie, or other ends and aims which are far estranged from the ways of God. You must communicate with intention to unite your self to God your be­ginning, to whiten and guild your self with his sights, to enkindle your self the more in his love, to retain the memory of that Sacrifice which he offered on mount Calvarie, that is to say, of his most vene­rable passion; to appease the anger of God for as many sins as are committed; to implore the assi­stance of Heaven for the necessities of the Church, as well for the living as dead; to obtain for your self and persons of whom mention is made, some victory over temptations, some new virtues, some temporal grace, in as much as shall concern the spi­ritual state. Briefly, for thanksgiving for the bene­fits which we receive from his Divine Majesty, both in general and particular.

Purity of affections consisteth principally in two Purity of af­fection. points: To banish from your heart all animosities, re­venges, quarrels, punctillioes, and readily to recon­cile your self before you come to the Altar: The other is to free your self, not onely from affections dishonest and unlawful, but also a little exorbitant, which one may have to any creature whatsoever. It is convenient your heart be then as a chrystal-vial filled with clear water, wherein the least moat of uncleanness may be seen. It is to put Adonis in the Adonis in the crib of Beth­leem. crib of Bethleem (which heretofore the infidels did) when we communicate still retaining impure passions with a deliberate purpose.

Germanus Patriarch of Constantinople in his Theo­ry Germ. Patri­arch. in The­oriâ. saith the pixe, which is the vessel and resting-place where the Blessed Sacrament is put, is called Cibo­rium, as one would say the Ark of lights, to teach us that at the onely sight of this Sacrament, we must dispel all thoughts of darkness which have possessed our soul. And for the better obtaining this purity, it is good to practice some devotions in the eve of receiving, as mortification of tongue by retirement and silence, as abstinence, or some other exercise of hu­mility or work of mercy. When the day cometh, Exod. 5. What ought to be done on the day of Communion. run to this heavenly Manna in the morning: Amuze not your self too much in decking and accommo­dating your body, nor in scattering and disordering your mind in vain cares and sollicitudes, but keep the vessel of your heart as a well stopped pot, to pour it out at the table of your spouse. It is at the instant of receiving that you must imitate the Seraphins of Third and fourth leaf of the lilly. Imitation of Seraphins. Isaiah 6. the Prophet Isaiah, to hold all your wings still but onely two, which are humility and charity: These are the two wings on which you ought to poyze your self at your pleasure. First, grounding all in re­verence before the eyes of this ineffable Majesty, aba­sing your self even to the center of your nothing, treading under foot all presumptions, vanities, follies, by a most perfect humility of spirit. Secondly, to Moving wings. stir up lively and ardent affections with all the en­deavour of your heart, and if that suffice not, offer all to God in the union of his onely Son, and merits of the most Blessed Virgin Mary.

To cherish the affections of these holy virtues, you must have your prayers, meditations, and considera­tions upon the Blessed Sacrament well prepared and digested with variety, that you may still hold your devotion in breath, as: Exod. 3. Considerati­ons for Com­munion. Moses before the burning bush. Solve calcea­mentum de pe­dibus tuis, lo­cus in quo stas terra sanctaest. Reg. 44. The Hostess of E [...]izeus.

I. To represent Moses in the bush burning, seized with a holy fire, who heard these words: Put off thy shoes, take away thy sensual affections, the land here is holy; yea it is the Holy of Holies: This is the noble fire which enflameth Angels in heaven and pure souls on earth, which is enchased within the species of the Sa­crament. What ought you then to do?

II. To represent unto your self that your soul is as the Hostess of the Prophet Elizeus, the good Shu­namite, who prepareth her heart as a lodging for the King of Prophets, thanksgiving as a table, humility for a seat, and charity for a candle lighted.

III. To represent to your self that it is a Ruth, Ruth. 2. 8, 9. Ʋnde mihi hoc u [...] invenirem gratiam ante o [...]ulos tuos? & [...]osse me dig­ [...]areris pere­grinam mulie­ [...]em? who accounted it a great favour to be esteemed by Booz and to have leave to glean in the fields after his harvest men, and acknowledging with gratitude so small a benefit, she said with her face prostrated on the earth: From whence cometh this favour which I have gained in your presence? From whence proceedeth that you deign to know me who am but a poor forraigner? What ought you to say?

IV. That it is as the humble Esther before Aha­suerus, Esther. 7. 3. Quae est petitio tua, Esther, ut [...]etur tibi? Et quid vis fieri▪ Etiamsi dimi­diam partem regni mei pe­tieris, impetra­bis. and that it kisseth the golden rod, and more­over that it understandeth these words: What is thy demand, Esther? Tell me, to the end it may be granted. Whae wouldst thou have me do? If thou askest me the moity of my Kingdom, thou shalt have it. An­swer, you would have nothing but the King, and that he alone sufficeth you.

V. That it is as Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, Mephibosheth 2 Reg. 9. Et tu comedes panem in men­sâ meâ semper. Quis ego sum servus tuus, quoniam respe­xisti super me, canem mortu­um? 1 Reg. 1. Jonathan. to whom David spake these words: My meaning is, you shall eat at my table all the days of your life. What answered this little son of the King thereupon? Alas, Sir, who am I your poor servant that you please to cast your eye upon me, a dead dog, such as I am?

VI. That it is as Jonathan, who extreamly tired, dipped the end of a wand which he carried in his hand into an honey-comb, and lifting it to his lips, at that instant behold his eyes, before heavy and op­pressed, became clear again, and his body reassumed new and fresh vigour. There needeth but a little consideration to a well composed spirit, both to cast it presently down by humility into the center of no­thing, and to raise it by love even above the emperial Heaven. One may likewise every time he receiveth, Other consi­derations. prepare divers meditations to entertain himself more at large, either before or after the mysterie.

I. As meditation upon the history, considering 1. The eating of the lamb. 2. The washing of feet. 3. The institution of the Blessed Sacrament.

II. The names, as Eucharist, Communion, Sacri­fice, Bread, Viaticum, and other such like, practising your self to search out the reason of every one, with application of spirit, to derive from thence things agreeable to the name which one meditateth: As up­on the name of Communion, the resolution of peace, concord, and charity.

III. The figures, as the bread and wine of Mel­chisedech, the Paschal Lamb, Manna, the bread of E­lias, meditating upon the histories and conformities which they have with this Divine mysterie, and the fruits we ought to draw from thence.

IV. The causes of the institution. 1. As to serve us for a memory of the Passion. 2. An incitement of love and charity. 3. For spiritual nourishment. 4. For Sacrifice. 5▪ For a pledge of beatitude, conside­ring whether we answer to the intention of the Son of God in this action. After receiving you must rest upon the two last leaves of the lilly, which are thanks­giving, Fifth and sixth leaf of the lilly. What you are to do af­ter Commu­nion. and renovation of spirit. You then must adore this great guest whom you have in your heart, with all the powers of Heaven and creatures of the earth, to play your part as if you were a little string of the great harp of the world. To offer to God the whole world as a votive-table hanged on his altar, collected in the perfections of his onely Son, who is wholly yours, being so freely given to you, so solemnly, so irrevocably, as he whose Divinity, soul, life, flesh, and bloud you have in this incomprehensible Sacra­ment. To give him thanks for the infinite riches he hath placed in this sacred humanity which you en­joy, and for that he hath given you his Son for fa­ther, brother, Master, Leader, Redeemer; for the good he communicateth to all faithful people by the means of this inexhaustible fountain of grace, for the special favours he hath done to you and [Page 74] yours, for the natural talents with which he hath adorned you, and likewise for the various change of comforrs and discomforts with which he hath enter­laced your life. Briefly, for the present visit which he hath made in the house of your heart, so ill prepared.

After adoration and thanksgiving, followeth peti­tion for the faithful and unfaithful, whose conver­sion we desire: For the Church and all the Prelats which govern it, namely him whom he hath appoint­ed to be our Pastour: For the person of the King and all the Realm: For his kinred, friends, benefa­ctours living and dead. To ask for your self seven gifts, which a holy Virgin (by the relation of S. Bo­naventure) daily begged of God. 1. Effectual grace Bonavent. 1. 6. med. c. 3. to accomplish the law of love. 2. To love all that God loveth. 3. To hate all he hateth. 4. Humi­lity, chastity, obedience, contempt of the world, gar­nishment of all virtues: 5. That God would make his true Temple of our soul and body. 6. That he would give us his vision in beatitude. 7. That he may be divinely served in this place where you receive the Blessed Sacrament, and in all the other parts of Christendom. To conclude, to make in the end a renewing of the oath of fidelity, which we have sworn to our great Master, and to employ our time in his service with more diligence than ever: and since we are upon the palm-tree, let us gather the Fruits of Communion. fruits, which are spiritual food, strength against temptations, heavenly alacrity, light of understand­ing, flames of charity, union with God, augmenta­tion of virtues, hope of glory, renovation in all our faculties and functions, and namely let us often stay upon some particular object of virtue, which we would ask of our guest in favour of this celestial vi­sitation.

The thirteenth SECTION. Parcè haec & in trans­cursis tantian delibet Lector, ut Canis è Ni­lo. The practice to hear Mass.

TO hear Mass is verily one of the most serious actions of all spiritual life. Had one all the understanding and reverence of Angels to be present thereat, it would never be enough. Saint Dyonys the Areopagite saith, that exactly to discharge Dyonis. de Eccle. Hier­arch. c. 6. Ʋspue ad ex­tramas imagi­nes. An excellent saying of S. Bonaventure. Cum fueris to­us alteratus, t & divinus ef­fectum, ita ut nihil videas nisi Deum, tunc accede. this duty we must purifie our heart, Usque ad ex­tremas imagines, so dispoiling it, that it may be free from all imaginations and humane representations: and that is it which Saint Bonaventure hath more clearly expressed, principally speaking of Priests who celebrate: That the time when they ought to ap­proach, is, when they feel themselves wholly changed and become divine, in such sort that they behold not any thing but God. Philo the Bishop addeth, that the Sacrificers are as the ivory neck of the spouse, which must serve as a chanel for the Holy Ghost to make his graces distil upon the rest of the members that are present at this Sacrifice.

The first practice and most ordinary to hear Mass for those who understand the words there spoken, is, to follow them with application of spirit, and to ac­company the silence of the Priest with some medita­tions or vocal prayers.

The second is, to stay ones self upon the signifi­cation of all the parts of the Mass: As at the Con­fiteor, to represent to your self man banished from Paradise, miserable, suppliant, confessing, deploring his sin. At the Introite, the enflamed desires of all mankind expecting the Messias. At the Hymn of Angels, Glory be to God on high, the Nativity. At the Prayers, thanksgiving for such a benefit. At the Epistle, the preaching of the Praecursour S. John. At the Gospel, truth preached by the Saviour of the world, and so of the rest.

The third is, to divide the Mass into certain par­cels; and behold a very considerable manner. Re­present to your self five great things in the mystery of the Mass, from whence you ought to draw so many fruits. These five things are, representation, praise, Sacrifice, instruction, nourishment.

Representation, because the Mass is a perfect image Five notable things in the mystery of the Mass. Radicati & superaedificati in ipso. Col. 2. c. of the life and passion of our Saviour, and there­fore the first fruit you ought to gather from thence, is, daily to imprint more lively in your heart the actions and passions of the Son of God, to conform your self thereunto.

Praise. So many words as are in the Mass aim at this purpose, to give praise unto God for this ineffa­ble mystery of our redemption; and to conform your self to this action, you ought to bend all the endeavour of your heart to praise God, whether it be by vocal or mental prayer.

Sacrifice. It is a most singular act of Religion, by which we reverence and adore God for the infinite glory of his souereign Being. And the Mass is a Mass a Sacri­fice. true Sacrifice by eminency, where the life and bloud of beasts is not offered, but the life of a Saviour, which is more worth than the life of all Angels and men. Cedrenus recounteth that the Emperour Ju­stinian Cedren. in Compen. hist. Wonder of Justinian. caused an Altar to be made in the Church of Saint Sophia, wherein he used all sorts of mettal, of precious stones, of the richest materials which might be chosen out amongst all the magazins of nature, to incorporate all the beauties of the world in onesole master-piece. And verily this Sacrifice is the prime work of God, in which he hath as it were locked up all that which is great or holy in all the myste­ries of our Religion. It was the custom daily to proportion the Sacrifices to the benefits of God. When in the old law he gave the fat of the earth, they offered the first-fruits to him: But now that he hath granted to us the dew of Heaven so long expected, his onely Son, we must render to him his Son again, which is done in the Sacrifice of the Mass. And the fruit you should derive from this consideration, is, at the elevation of the host, to offer Jesus Christ to God his Father by the ministery of the Priest, and to offer it. First, for a supream and incomparable honour of the Divine Majesty. Se­condly, for thanksgiving for all benefits received and to be received. Thirdly, to obtain protection, dire­ction, and prosperity in all your works. Besides offer up all your powers, faculties, functions, actions in the union of the merits of Jesus.

Instruction. Those who understand the words of Instruction. 4. of Mass. the Mass, may draw goodly instructions from read­ing the Epistle, the Gospel, the Collects. All in ge­neral teach us the virtues of honour and reverence to­wards the Divine Majesty, seeing this Sacrifice is celebrated with so many holy, sacred, and profound­ly dutiful ceremonies. Of gratitude, since God be­ing once offered in the bloudy Sacrifice of the Cross, will also be daily presented to God his Fa­ther, in the title of gratitude: And that ought to awaken in us the memory of observing every benefit of God, with some remarkable act of devotion: Of Charity towards our common Saviour, and towards our neighbour, since we see a life of God spent for our redemption, and all faithful people.

Nourishment. The eye liveth by light and colours, Nourish­ment. 5. the Bee by dew, the Phenix by the most thin and sub­tile vapours; and the soul of the faithful by the nourishment which it receiveth in the Blessed Sacra­ment, which is purely spiritual. This nourishment is not onely derived from the Sacramental Commu­nion, Spiritual Communion. by the real presence of the body of our Saviour, but also by the spiritual Communion which is made, when in the Sacrifice of the Mass, at the time of the Priest his communicating the same disposi­tions, apprehensions, and affections are entertained, [Page 75] as if really and actually one did receive. For this pur­pose it is fit to do three things. First, to excite anew in your self the acts of self-dislike, and contrition for your wretchedness and imperfections. The second, to take spiritually the carbuncle of the Altar, not with the pincers of the Seraphin, but with acts of a most lively faith, a most resolved hope, and a charitie most ardent, to open boldly the mouth of your heart, and pray our Saviour to enter in, as truly by the com­munication of his graces and favours (which are the rays of this Sun) as by the real imparting of his body and bloud, he gives himself to those that communi­cate. The third, to conclude all your actions with a most hearty thanksgiving.

The fourteenth SECTION. Practice of Meditation.

OF four worlds which are the Architype, In­telligible, Celestial, and Elementary, prayer imitateth the most perfect, being a true image of the oeconomy of the holy Trinitie, which accord­ing to the maxims of Divines cannot pray to any (having no Superiour) yet affordeth a model for all prayers: For prayer, as saith Tertullian, is composed of reason, words, and spirit: Of reason, as we may interpret by the relation it hath to the Father: of words, as it is referred to the Word; of spirit, by the the direction it hath to the third Person. Now this principally agreeth with meditation. For it is that di­vine silence & delicious ravishment of the soul which uniteth man to God, and finite essence to Infinite.

It is that plenitude and that tear spoken of in Exo­dus, according to an ancient translation: Plenitude, Exod. 22. 29. because it replenisheth the soul with the splendour of consolations and sources, which distil from the Pa­radise of God: Tear, yea tear of myrrhe, be­cause it distilleth under the eyes of God, as doth the tree which beareth myrrhe under the rays of the Sun. It is a wonderful thing to behold this little shrub, which doth not perpetually expect to be cut with iron, that it may drop forth its pleasing liquor, but the Sun reflecting on the branches thereof, be­comes as it were a mid-wife, and maketh it bring forth what is sought after; which caused an excel­lent wit to say, that it drew life out of its blows, and made a dug of its wounds.

Oh happy soul that resembleth this generous plant, and which repleat with pious desires, holy affe­ctions, and sincere intentions, produceth appre­hensions and works a thousand times more pre­cious than myrrhe, when in the meditation the rays of Jesus Christ (who is the true Sun of justice) strikes the heart!

The practice of prayer consisteth in mental, vocal, Necessity and easiness of meditation. and mixt. Mental is that which is exercised in the heart; vocal which is formed in the mouth; mixt participateth of both. Think it not to be a new thing not severed from your profession, to meditate. It were so if one would make your brain serve as a lymbeck for subtile and extravagant raptures, dis­guised in new words and forms. But when one speak­eth of meditation, he adviseth you to ponder and ruminate the points and maximes which concern your salvation, with all sweetness, that fruit most agreeable to your condition may be derived from thence. The faintness, weakness, infidelity, igno­rance, driness, which reigneth in your souls, cometh from no other source, but the want of consideration. Take this worthy exercise couragiously in hand, and you shall feel your heart fattened with the unction of the Holy Ghost, and your soul of a wilderness to become a little Paradise of God. Be not affright­ed hereat, as if it were a thing impossible for you: use a little method, and you shall find nothing more easie and familiar. What have you so natural in vi­tal life as to breath? And what more proper in the intellectual than to think? Your soul hath no o­ther operation, for night and day it is employed in this exercise. The Sun casteth forth beams, and our soul thoughts. Gather together onely those wan­dering thoughts which are scattered amongst so ma­ny objects into your center, which is God: Em­ploy one part of the spitit, industrie, invention, discourse, which you are endowed withal for the mannaging of worldly affairs: Employ them I say in the work of your salvation, and you shall do wonders.

I undertake not here to raise you above the earth, nor in the beginning to plunge you into the seven degrees of contemplation, whereof S. Bonaventure speaketh in the treatise he composed thereof: I speak not to you of fire, unction, extasie, speculation, tast, of What you must under­stand to me­ditate well. repose, or glory, but I speak that in few words which you may read more at large in the works of so many worthy men, who have written upon that subject. First know what meditation is, secondly how it is ordered.

Meditation properly is a prayer of the heart, by Definition of meditation. which we humbly, attentively, and affectionately seek the truth which concerns our salvation, thereby to guid us to the exercise of Christian virtues. That you may meditate well, you must know the causes, degrees, matter, and form of meditation. The Causes. principal cause thereof is God, who infuseth him­self into our soul, to frame a good thought, as the Sun doth upon the earth to produce a flower. It is a goodly thing to have the spirit subtile and fruit­ful. It is to work without the Sun (saith Origen) to think to do any thing here without the grace of the Holy Ghost.

The first degree which leadeth to good and se­rious prayer, is a good life, and principally purity of heart, tranquility of spirit, desire to make your self an inward man. Saint Augustine reciteth a say­ing of Porphyrius very remarkeable, which he deri­veth Aug. l. 9. de civit. Dei. c. 23. Deus omnium Pater nullius indiget, sed no­bis est benè cum cum ad­ramus, ipsam vitam, prec [...]m ad cum sacien­tes, p [...]r inqui­sitionem & imitationem de ipse. from the mouth of this perfidious man, as one should pull a thing stoln out of a thiefs coffer: God the Creatour and Father of this whole Universe, hath no need of our service, but it is our good to serve him and adore him, making of our life a perpetual prayer, by a diligent enquiry of his perfections and imitation of his virtues. Observe then, the first degree of good prayer is good life.

The second (as well this Authour hath noted) is the perquisition, to wit, the search of verities by thinking on the things meditated, which are the sun­dry considerations suggested to us by the spirit, in the exercise of meditation.

The third is the affection which springeth from these considerations: Our understanding is the steel, and our will the flint: As soon as they touch one an­other we see the sparkes of holy affections to flie out. We must bray together the matters of prayer as Aro­matick spices with the discussion of our understand­ing, before we can extract good odours.

The fourth is the imitation and fruit of things we meditate on. It is the mark at which our thoughts should aim, otherwise if one should pretend no­thing else but a vain business of the mind, it would be to as much purpose to drive away butter-flies, as to meditate. Good meditation and good action ought to be entertained as two sisters, holding one another by the robe.

As for the matter of meditation, you must know Matter of meditation. that all meditations are drawn from three books. The first and most inferiour is the book of the great Three books of meditation world, where one studieth to come by knowledge of the creature to the Creatour. The second is [Page 76] the book of the little world, where man studieth him­self, his beginning, his end, qualities, habits, faculties, actions, functions and the rest.

The third is the book of the Heavenly Father, Je­sus Christ our Saviour, who verily is a guilded book, limmed with the rays of the Divinity, imprinted with all the characters of sanctity, and from thence an infinitie of matter is drawn, as those of benefits, of four last things, of the life, death, and passion of Je­sus, and of all the other mysteries. You must digest every one in his time, according to the opportunity, tast, and capacity of those who meditate. Some ap­propriate meditations to every day of the week, o­thers make their circuit according to the moneth, others follow the order of the mysteries and life of our Saviour, as they are couched in so many books written of these matters.

The practice and form of meditation consisteth in six things. The first, to divide the subject you would Practise and form contai­ned in six ar­ticles. meditate on into certain points, according to the ap­pointment of some Directour, or the help of a book: Article. 1 As if you meditate upon the knowledge of ones self, to take for the first point, what man is by nature. For the second, what he is by sin. For the third, what he may be by grace.

The second, a little before the hour appointed for Article. 2 meditation, to call into memory the points which you would meditate on.

The third, after you have implored the light and Article. 3 assistance of the holy Ghost, that he would be plea­sed to direct this act to his glory, and that you have framed to your self a lively thought of the presence of God, and that actually you may meditate to select the points and articles proposed, sweetly, at­tentively, affectionately: and not to want matter for every point, it is good to weigh the causes, the effects, the tenents, and utmost limits of the mystery we meditate on.

As in the first point of the knowledge of your self, Seven ways to dilate ones self in medi­tating in a­bundance up­on sundry thoughts con­tained in this third article. What man is according to nature? A reasonable creature, intelligent, capable of the knowledge of God. Who made it? God himself: He would that his Divine hands (saith S. Basil) should serve him as a womb. What are the essential parts thereof? A soul, a body, an understanding, a memory, a will. What are the accidentals? A general mass of so many little parcels, as have their names and entertain­ments. O the powerful hand which hath composed such a master-piece! Where was it made? In the earth, and not in Heaven, to teach him humility. And to what end made? To praise God and serve him, and to save himself in praising and serving him. Who hath concurred to its creation? God. Hath he made use of Angels? No: He would attribute the honour of such a work to himself. And how did he make it? He was not content with one single word, as in the creation of the world, but he put his hand thereto, to shew it was a more supream effect of his power. And when did he make him? After other creatures, to prepare the world for him, as a cradle, as a Temple, as a Hall to banquet in, and such like things. You see these circumstances, who, what, where, what help, where­fore, when, and how, in every subject of what kind soever will lead you along.

The second manner to dilate your self when you meditate history, is, to represent the divers persons with their words, actions, and passions. As in the mysterie of the Resurrection. The souldiers shiver­ing for fear, the Person of our Saviour all enlighten­ed with splendour, saying: Courage, I have overcome, all power is given to me in Heaven and earth; I come to wipe away your tears, to make your faces bright-shining, to put you into possession of an eter­nal felicity, and such like things. On the other side Magdalene who seeketh her Master, and not con­tent to behold the Angels, speaketh these words, which Origen prompteth her: All these goodly com­forters Onerosi sunt mihi omnes consolatores, quaero Creato­rem, & ideò mihi gravis est ad videndum omnis creatu­ra. Ego non quaero Angelos sed etam qui se­cit me & An­gelos. are burdensome to me: I seek the Creatour, and therefore I cannot see any creature without anxietie. I seek not Angels, but him who hath made both me and Angels.

The third to represent things to your self by cer­tain images, figures, and similitudes: as Hermas cited in the Bibliothec of the Fathers, who meditating on the joy of worldlings, imagined to himself a delici­ous meadow, enameled all over with flowers, where certain fat and plump sheep cropped the grasse, and skipped to and fro with many jumps in the delights thereof: And in an instant this meadow became vast, plain, drie, lean, parched, and barren, and the same sheep appeared starven, scabbie, and full of botches, a rude surly shepherd driving them to feed among thorns and brambles. Afterward he applied all that to the voluptuous, and made to himself a perfect representation of their life, to avoid their un­happiness.

The fourth, to extend your self by comparing of one thing to another, as did Saint Gregorie Nazian­zen, S. Gregory in his Hymns. meditating upon the love of God. Tell me con­fidently (O my soul) what thou desirest? for I will please thee. Thou wouldst perhaps have Gyges his enchanted ring to gain a kingdom. Thou wouldst have all that which is in thy hand changed into gold (the desire of the fabulous Mydas.) Thou wouldst covet palaces stuf­fed with gold and silver; rich possessions, curiosities, boundless honours. Poor distracted man, dost thou not see thy God is all that, and above all that, and incompa­rably more than that? Thy God is the true riches, the true glory, the true repose, without him all thy blessings would be curses, and with him all thy afflictions may be turned into felicities.

The fifth, to make sometimes a dialogue, God, and the intellectual creatures, sensible, & insensible enter­changeably speaking, as did S. Aug. meditating upon Aug. Solil. 31 Circuibam omnia quae­rens te, & pro­pter omnia de­relinquens me. Interrogavi terram, si esset Deus, & dixit mihi quòd non. Tu quis es? un­de hoc tale a­nimal, Domine Deus meus, unde nisi [...]u? the perfections of God. He went wheeling round a­bout the world, and asked in heaven, in earth, sea, and depths, addressing himself to every one in particular, Are you God? And these creatures answered, No, those have lyed who deified us. And after he had run all over the world, he entereth into himself, and saith to himself: Who art thou? From whence cometh this creature (my Lord and my God) from whence, but from thee? By these ladder-steps he mounteth to the knowledge of his Creatour, and plungeth himself in the abysses.

The sixth, to make sometimes a gradation ascend­ing from degree to degree, as in meditating on these words of S. John: God so loved the world that he Joann. 3. Sic Deus di­lexit mundum, ut filium su­um unigenitum daret. gave his onely-begotten Son. If God should onely appoint a bird to bring the news of thy salvation, would it not seem to thee to deserve many thanks? But what if a reasonable creature? What if a man endowed with all manner of excellencies? What if an Angel? What if an Archangel, a cherubin, a Seraphin? What if all the angels and all the blessed spirits? But all these in comparison of his Son are but as a little drop of water to the vast Ocean. And he hath given thee his Son. O prodigie! O supera­bundance of love!

The seventh, easie and fruitfull, is, to ponder that which you meditate on with application to your self, attentively considering the actions and words of our Saviour to form ours. To examin carefully your deportments, and see how oftentimes they wan­der from this rule of perfection; to repeal them, to square them, to level them as much as you can, ac­cording to the model which is set before your eyes.

After the discussion of every point, the lights fol­low 4 Article of the manner of meditati­on. in the fourth place, which are maxims and con­clusions drawn from the discourse we have made. As if we have meditated upon the knowledge of our selves, to derive this fruit from thence: That [Page 77] we have nothing of our selves, but ignorance, weakness, Lights. vanity, misery. That we are wholly Gods. That it is a sacriledge to live for our selves. That we cannot have a worse Master than our own liberty and scope, and such like things.

In the fifth place come the affections, which are Article. 5 flaming transportations of the will, bent to pursue Affections. and embrace the good it acknowledgeth, as when S. Augustine having meditated upon the knowledge Aug. Solil. 11. Serò te amavi, pulchritudo tam antiqua, & tam nova: Serò te amavi, & tu intus e­ras & ego fo­ris, & ibi te quaerebam: & in istâ forniosa quae fecisti ego deformis irrue­bam. of God, brake forth into these words: Alas! I have begun very late to love thee; a beauty ever ancient, a a beauty ever new. Too late have I begun. Thou wert within, and I sought for thee without, and have cast my self with such violence upon these created beauties, without knowledge of the Creatour, to defile and deform my self daily more and more. To this it much avail­eth to have by heart many versicles of the most pa­thetical Psalms, which serve as jaculatory prayers, and as it were enflamed arrows, to aim directly at the proposed mark.

For conclusion you have colloquies, which are re­verent Article. 6 and amorous discourses with God, by which Colloquies. we ask of him to flie the evil, or follow the good discovered in the meditation. And of all that which I say, discussion, light, affection, a colloquie may be made upon every point, but more particularly at the end of the prayer. And note, in every prayer, espe­cially in colloquies, you must make acts of the praise of God, in adoring him with all the Heavenly host, and highly advancing his greatness and excellencies. Of thanksgiving, in thanking him for all benefits in general, but particularly for these most eminent in the subject we meditate. Of petition, in asking some grace or favour. Of obsecration, in begging it by the force of holy things and agreeable to the Divine Ma­jesty. Of oblation, in offering your soul, body, works, words, affections, and intentions; afterward shutting all up with the Pater Noster.

Behold briefly the practice of meditation. If you Another manner of meditation more plain & profitable. yet desire one more plain, more facile, and greatly profitable, often practice this same. As the true meditation of a good man is (according to the Prophet) the law of God, and the knowledge of ones self, meditate the summary of your belief; as sometimes the Creed of the Apostles, sometimes the Pater noster, sometimes the Commandments of God, sometimes the deadly sins, sometimes upon the pow­ers of your soul, and sometimes your five natural sen­ses. The manner shall be thus. After you have chosen a place and time proper, and a little sounded the re­treat in your heart from temporal affairs.

First, invoke the grace of God to obtain light and knowledge upon the subject you are to meditate.

Secondly, if it be the Creed, run over every Ar­ticle briefly one after another, considering three things, what you ought to believe of this Article, what you ought to hope, what you ought to love: How you hitherto have believed it, hoped it, loved it: How you ought more firmly to believe it here­after, to hope for it more confidently, to love it more ardently.

It if be the Pater Noster, meditate upon every pe­tition, what you ask of God, the manner how you ask it, and the disposition you afford to obtain it. If the Commandments of God; what every Com­mandment meaneth, how you have kept them, and the course you will presently hold, the better to ob­serve them. If the powers of your soul and five sen­ses; the great gift of God, which is to have a good understanding, a good will, a happy memory; to have the organs of eyes, ears, and all the senses well disposed for their several functions. How you have hitherto employed all these endowments, and how you will use them in time to come.

Thirdly, you shall make oblation of all that you are to God, and shall conclude with the Pater No­ster and Ave Maria. Another manner very sweet for Another way those who are much affected to holy Scripture, is mixed prayer, consisting in three things.

The first, to make prayer to obtain of God grace and direction in this action, as it hath been said above.

The second, to take the words of holy Scripture, as a Psalm, a text of S. John, S. Paul, and such like things; to pronounce it affectionately, pondering and ruminating the signification of each word, and resting thereon with sweetness, while our spirit fur­nisheth us with variety of considerations.

The third, to make some resolution upon all these good considerations, to practice them in such and such actions of virtue. Lastly, to end the meditation with some vocal prayer.

The fifteenth SECTION. Practice of vocal prayer, spiritual lection, and the word of God.

THe practice of vocal prayer consisteth in Practice of vocal prayer three ways. three things; to observe whom we should pray unto, what we ought to pray for, and how to pray. For the first, we know what the Church teacheth us, how next unto the Majesty of the most Blessed Trinitie, incomparably raised above all crea­tures, Praemonitus, praemunitus. To whom to pray. we pray to the Angels and Saints, who are as it were the rays of this great and incomprehen­sible Sun, from whom all glory reflecteth. Above all creatures we reverence the most holy Mother of Praise of the Blessed Vir­gin. God, who hath been as a burning mirrour, in the which all the beams of the Divinity are united. Origen calleth her the treasure of the Trinitie: Me­thodius, the living Altar: Saint Ignatius, a Celestial prodigie: Saint Cyril, the Founderess of the Church: Saint Fulgentius, the Repairer of mankind: Proclus of Cyzike, the Paradise of the second Adam, the shop of the great Union of two natures: Saint Bernard, the Firmament above all firmaments: Andrew of Crete, the image of the first Architype, and the Epitome of the incomprehensible excellencies of God.

All that may be said redoundeth to the glory of the workman who made her, and advanced her with so many preeminences; yea that alone affordeth us a singular confidence in her protection. The devo­tion towards this common Advocate of mankind is so sweet, so sensible, so full of consolation, that a man must have no soul not to relish it. Next, we Angels. honour those Angelical spirits, who enamel Hea­ven with their beauty, and shine as burning lamps before the Altar of this great God of hosts. We have a particular obligation to our holy Angel Guar­dian, whom God hath deputed to our conservation, as a Celestial Centinel that perpetually watcheth for us. We behold in Heaven with the eyes of faith, an infinite number of chosen souls, who read our neces­sities in the bosom of God, written with the pen of his will, and enlightened with the rays of their pro­per glory, who apply this knowledge to their beatifi­ed understanding. Behold the objects of our devo­tion. As concerning that which we ought to pray and beg for, our great Master hath abridged it for us in our Lords Prayer, a true Epitom of the celestial Lords prayer. wisdom; as if one would comprehend all this great Universe in the round circuit of a ring. From thence it is that all prayers are derived, as all waters flow from the Ocean.

From the union of this excellent prayer with the Rosary. Angelical salutation, the Rosary is composed; a pray­er as singular as familiar to the whole world, whe­ther it be simply recited, or whether one proceed therein by the way of meditation upon the my­steries, [Page 78] as many pious and devout books do teach.

We have besides this the Psalter of the Kingly Psalter. Prophet, which operateth that in the Church which the Sun doth in Heaven: It illuminateth, heateth, and makes fruitful all the good desires and devoti­ons of Christianity. Consequently there follow ma­ny well digested offices, many Collects, Litanies, Pray­ers, collected from holy Scriptures and Fathers. You have a plentiful treasurie of them compiled by Henry Kispenvigius, able to satisfie the most curious devo­tions. But all is not in multitude. The Breviaries, Hours, and Manuels of devotion say enough. Those who have obligation of saying some office, ought se­riously Government of vocal prayer. to think of the discharge of their consciences upon this point. But you which have it not, it is rea­son, with the advise of your spiritual Father, you task your selves upon some daily exercise seasoned with some variety, that every day you may repeat it with exact diligence: and moreover you have many jacu­latory prayers drawn from the psalms or other books for all manner of necessities, as well spiritual as tem­poral, and a list of the persons as well living as dead, for whom you are to pray.

When you have the matter digested, it remaineth The form. your self adde form thereunto, a serious attention, a profound reverence, a fervent love. You must imagine with your self, that with those holy old men of the Apocalyps, you stand before the throne of God, with a vial or cup in the one hand, (which Cup and harp in prayer. is your heart replenished with holy thoughts as with odoriferous balm) and a harp in the other, which is the collection of so many notable prayers. Serve your self well with this celestial harp. Do not as one Neanthus, who having inherited Orpheus his Neanthus. To use itwel. harp, thought to do wonders, and played so ill that dogs affrighted with his untuneably skreaking noise, tate him in pieces. It is not enough you have so many holy prayers which sound like the string of Gods harp, consigned to you by Jesus Christ himself and so many holy personages: you must use them well, lest you find your punishment even in the sacrifice of propitiation. Take heed you sa­crifice To sacrifice the calf with­out flower. not (as S. Gregory saith) the calf without flower, which is, to make prayer with lips without ap­plication of heart.

Four things will greatly serve you to resist distra­ctions Remedies a­gainst distra­ctions. and driness which happen in prayer. The first, before prayer, and in the time of prayer, frame to your self a lively and strong idea of the presence of God, and when any distraction occurreth, recal your thoughts into their center, by often renew­ing your intentions in the beginning of every part of prayer.

The second, not being charged with any office by obligation, make a few vocal prayers, and stay upon every word the space of a breathing fit, in the mean time pondring both the word which you pronounce and the person to whom you speak, and your base­ness and unworthiness. This manner is very sove­reign and available to pray.

The third, to follow the counsel of Cassiodorus, to take this vocal prayer which you rehearse, as if it were particularly made for you, or that it origi­nally had born the very like sprouting buds in your heart. So ought you to connaturalize it, and pun­ctually espouse all the effections which the Authour of this prayer had when the Holy Ghost did di­ctate it unto him. You must rejoyce, bewail, hate, and love upon David's harp, as by a certain divine in­spiration.

The fourth, often to ask of God the gift of pray­er, to offer him all your devotions in union with those of our Saviour, and to chastise your neglects by some voluntary satisfaction. To water and moy­sten your prayers, and retain them in full vigour, it is needful that as you speak to God in the exercise of prayer, he speak to you in books, and by the mouth of Preachers. Wherefore make a resolution to em­ploy daily some part of your time in the reading of some devout book, as well that which contain­eth precepts as examples. Go not as it were boot­haling with an unsteaddy curiosity, which swallow­eth all and ever remaineth hungry; but fixe your thoughts and affections upon that which you read, in such sort that you may be imbrued and coloured with a firm tincture. Good books are as the cave Good books the cave of Sibylla. Spiritual rea­ding and Ser­mons. of Sibylla. Cassius Longinus saith, the inhabitants of that cave had a certain rapture of prophesie; and in often revolving the writings of Saints, the spirit of Saints is acquired.

And as for Sermons, take heed of that canker of worldly spirits, who hear Preachers as Athenian Oratours, or as one would a curious lute-player, or a Comedie in the Burgundian hostery. If he who preacheth to you have no other intention but to please you, nor you any other purpose but to sooth your own curiosity, he hath wearied his lungs, and you in the mean space have had the itch in your ears; the time will come when he shall have the worm in his heart to gnaw him, and you the tingling in your ears for your punishment. The seller and the buyer shall be paid with the coyn of reprobation. Who speaketh not, and who heareth not, to do and be­come better, abuseth a word signed with the bloud of Jesus Christ, the loss whereof is most dangerous and the account inestimable.

The sixteenth SECTION. Of the second combat of the spiritual man against weakness.

ALl that on which I have before very largely discoursed, serves to dissipate the darkness of ignorance, and to replenish a soul with the knowledge of God, with good maxims, good desires, and good purposes: and doubtless nothing would be found more easie and familiar than to do well, Temptations remoraes, of the soul. were it not temptations come athwart us, which are the remoraes as it were and hinderances of the soul. And therefore it is necessary to frame to your self an undoubted courage, high, and resolute, to resist with an invincible hand, and to strike at an infinite number of obstacles which present them­selves in all sorts of occasions, and which bring upon our souls accesses of fire and yce; fire of con­cupiscence, yce of pusillanimity, to form in the end an absolute inability of virtue. This inability is vanquished by the grace of God and virtue of for­titude, which warranteth courage to undertake, and strengtheneth it to bear what reason dictateth. And Sufferers more coura­gious than undertakers. although to undertake seem a thing very glorious, it is notwithstanding the hardest task to endure a temptation, to oppose it with unmoved foot, to wrastle with it, to trample on it, and in the end by virtue to erect tropheys over it.

Saint Thomas very judiciously yieldeth the reasons. S. Thom. 1. 2. q. 123. 1. Because he who is assaulted seemeth ever in worse state than he that assaulteth: for encountering he always presupposeth himself to be stronger. Now it appeareth, he who undergoeth some brave action of courage is the assailant, and he who withstand­eth a temptation, is opposed, and sometimes sha­ken without thinking thereof; which is far more troublesom and hard, and therefore draweth af­ter it much more resolution in case a good and ge­nerous resistance be made against it. 2. The assailant beholdeth the peril as future, and he who is tempted seeth the temptation even almost within his gates, in his heart, in his bowels. 3. The assailant often [Page 79] dischargeth his pistol like an harcubusier before he have leisure to know the danger, and readily retireth: The other who suffereth, burneth as with a gentle fire, and in the mean space if he be patient, he long time stayeth with a reposed rest, yet not striking at all; which is a thing worthy of an eternal crown. The Alexanders, the Caesars, who flew like Eagles to the conquest of worlds, oftentimes yielded themselves up to the least temptation. Their strength was dis­guised, not real.

The seventeenth SECTION. The arms against temptation, contained in twelve Maxims.

THe means to resist temptations, is not to frame The means to resist tempta­tions. to your self a spiritual insensibility which feeleth nothing: It is hard to obtain it, so sensible self-love is, and when one hath it, he rather is a stone than a man. It is not to drive away one temptation by another, and do one mischief to be freed of another. For to pursue such courses, is like washing ones self with ink. It is not to hide one from all kind of encounters, and never to do well for fear to have occasion of a combate against ill: but to resist it couragiously in that sort as I will shew. That great fore-mentioned John Picus Mirandula hath collected twelve notable maxims, the practice whereof is most profitable to enable your self in spi­tual combate against impotency.

I. Maxim. That you must be tempted, on what Thesal. In hoc posui sumus. Temptation our trade. side soever it happen. It is our profession, our trade, our continual exercise. The Eagle complaineth not of her wings, nor the Nightingale of her song, nor Peacock of her tayl, because it is by kind; and it is as natural for man to be tempted, as for a bird to flie, to sing, to prune her feathers. If you forsake not the way of spiritual life fearing to be tempted, and turn head to worldly contentments, hold it for an infal­lible verity, you therein shall be much more engaged; and which is worse, without comfort, honour, me­rit, or recompence: you shall leave a paper-Cross, which if you knew well how to mannage, would load you no more than feathers do the bird, you will forsake it (say I) to take another, hard, uneasie, and bloudy, which would invest you in the Confraterni­tie of the bad thief.

That great Prelate of France, Sydonius Apollinaris re­lateth, Sidon. Apol. l. 2. c. 1. that a certain man called Maximus, being ar­rived at the height of honour by unlawful and indi­rect ways, much grived from the first day, and brea­thing out a great sigh, spake these words: O Damo­cls, I esteem thee most happy to have been a King onely A remarkable speech of Maximus. Foelicem te, Damocles, qui non uno lon­gius prandio regni necessi­tatem tolera­visti. Travel of worldlings. the space of a dinner time. It is now a whole day that I have been so, and can no longer endure it.

II. Remember that in the affairs of the world we fight a longer time, we travel more painfully, we reap more fruitlesly. The end of one toyl is the be­ginning of another. In pains taking there is no hope, but ever to labour. A temporal toyl draweth after it an eternity of pain.

III. Is it not a meer folly to believe a Paradise an eternal life, a Jesus Christ, who made unto himself a ladder of the cross to ascend to the throne of his glorie, and you in the mean while to be desirous to live here with arms a-cross? To see the Master open Indignity of curiosity. the way of Heaven through so many thorns, and the servant not to be willing to tread but upon flowers? To see under a head, all wasted and worn with suffer­ing, delicate members, as one should make to a Colos­sus of brass, feet of flax.

IV. Were there no other fruit in temptation, but Greatness of temptation, conformity to Iesus Christ the conformity which we thereby have with Jesus Christ, the sovereign Wisdom, it would be highly re­compenced. A brave Captain said to a souldier who died with him: Although thou hadst been unknown all thy life time, it is no small honour for thee to die this day with thy Master. And who would not hold it for a great glory to have the Son of God for Cap­tain, for companion, for spectatour, for theatre, for guerdon in all his afflictions and tribulations? Who would not account it a great dignity to be daily crucified with him? To distend his hands and arms upon the Cross, in withholding them from vio­lences, rapines, ruins, wherewith the spirit of lying transporteth us? To fetter your feet, and hinder them from running after the unbridied desires of your heart? To make bitter your tongue in subdu­ing the pleasures of tast? To cover your body with wounds, in suppressing the incitements of flesh by a holy mortification? To lessen your self by the con­tempt of honour, according to the example of him, who being able always to walk upon the wings of Cherubins, would creep amongst us like a little worm Galat. 9: Ego stigmata Domini Jesu in corpore meo porto. Distrust of ones self. of the earth? What a glory were it to say what Saint Paul said: I hear the marks of my Saviour Jesus on my body?

V. Not to confide in humane remedies when you undertake to overcome a temptation. It is not a thing which dependeth meerly upon us. It is neces­sary God go before, and we thereto contribute our free will. If he watch not over our heads, it will be a hard matter for us to keep centinel. No crea­ture is so feeble as he who holdeth himself for strong, being onely armed with his own confidence. Many Concilium Arausicanum. Multa in ho­mine bona si­unt, quae non facit homo bo­na: Nulla vero facit homo bo­na quae non Deus praesiet ut faciat homo. To stand al­ways upon your guard. I saiah 21. 8. Super specu­lam Domini ego st [...]. good things are done in man, which man doth not: And min doth no good, which God doth not. Who thinks to resist temptations without his help, is like him, who hasteneth to the wars, and stumbleth at the threshold of his own door. And therefore an effe­ctual means in this battel, is to insist much on prayer, especially at the first entrance of a temptation.

VI. When you have vanquished a temptation, take very good heed you leave not your rank, and wholly slacken your courage, as if there were no more enemies to be opposed. As distrust is the mo­ther of safety, so over-much security is the gate of peril. If your enemy still roam up and down like a roaring lyon, become you on the other side a watch­ful lyon in the centinels of the God of hosts.

VII. Content not your self onely to be beaten, To combate your enemy. but assail your enemy. When Satan lays a snare to entrap you, make it an instrument of merit. If he present a good work to you, which glittereth in the world, thereby to tempt you with pride, make a good work of it, and leave vanity, referring all to the greater honour of God.

VIII. When you are in combate, fight with ala­critie, as if you already were certain of victory. Turn away the eye of your consideration from what you suffer, and hold it perpetually fixt upon the reward. A great unhappiness, which maketh many to fall What is the cause that many yield. head-long into temptation, is, that they have their minds so stretched and bent upon the thought of pain, they cannot abide to behold the reward which waiteth on them. When the fourty Martyrs were in the frozen lake, thirty nine of them looked back upon the future crown, and one of them unhappily thought of nothing but his punishment. All of them remained victorious except this wretched creature, who soyling the glory of his patience, came out of the pool to die presently after in his infidelity. Do you not think that which comforted our Saviour on the Cross, in that bottomless abyss of calumnies and dolours, was a mirrour of glory, where he saw all his sufferings in crowns? Behold the course which is to beheld. To stay a little on the present, and rest in a strong apprehension of the future: And ever to have these words of S. Paul in your heart: [Page 80] A short moment of our tribulation worketh in us an 2 Cor. 4. Momentaneum & leve tribu­lationis nostrae, aeternum gloria pondus opera­tur in nobis. eternal weight of glory. Fight then with courage, as if it were the last temptation which should assail you, and be perswaded that herein is the extent of your predestination. When you have overcome it, govern your self like a man readily prest to enter again into the lists, and make one victory the degree for another.

IX. Though you be valiant, brave not danger, Not to tempt temptation. tempt not temptation, casting your self into the oc­casions thereof through presumption of heart. He that much affecteth hazard, in stead of finding glory therein, shall trace out his own tomb.

X. A sovereign means to conquer temptations, is, seasonably to discover the countenances of them, to open your heart freely to your Ghostly Father, to declare your thoughts, to know them well, to consider their nature, and to see their power they have over your soul. It ordinarily happeneth what the good Epictetus saith: It is not the thing that trou­bleth us, it is our fantasie. How many temptations A sovereign means. would be vanquished by sleighting them, if one took but a little leisure to laugh at them? We make Elephants of flies, and of little dwarfs who by stealth pinch us, we frame Gyants. We resem­ble young children, who for fear of a vizard, hide themselves with tears in their nurses bosomes: but take away the mask, and give them it to handle, and they will make sport with it. How many things seem terrible and impossible to us, which we find ri­diculous and easie to overcome, if we never so lit­tle touch them with our finger? In temptations of pusillanimity, it is good to represent to your self these false Gyants as dwarfs: But in that of lust, you must not despise any thing, rather lay hold of little threads, as if they would become huge ca­bles. Both in the one and the other there is nothing to be done, but to dash these little Babylonians against the stones. Withstand beginnings, and suffer not your enemies to fortifie themselves to your disad­vantage.

XI. The stone of offence and scandal to many, Sweetness of victory of a temptation. is, that they lively present to their imagination the sweetness of sin, and never consider the pleasure which is derived from the victory over sin. As soon as man is plunged in the puddle thereof, behold a blushing soul, drenched in pensiveness, melancho­ly, and despair, whom a loathsom pleasure, which passeth away as a dream, furnisheth from a dream with a heap of scorns, sorrows, and confusions: But quite contrary, that soul which hath resisted, findeth herself content, generous, advanced, satis­fied with holy comforts, which come from the Pa­radise of God. Few men revolve this thought, which Saint Cyprian much recommendeth: Be­hold why the number of the damned is very great; and yet notwithstanding doth it not seem to you very reasonable, that man, who a thousand times hath yielded to temptation, should once in his life time tast the sweetness which is in the victory over a temptation, to rejoyce for ever? Many have been diverted from a great and manifest precipice, by con­sidering these words: Well, go to: To yield to sin, what will be the end thereof? To purchase repentance at so dear a rate! To render up a renown of so many years, as a prey to a most unhappy moment of plea­sure! Where is the faith promised to God? Let us at least seek out some place where he is not: And where is he not? So many stars, so many Intelligences where­with the world is replenished, are so many eyes to behold thee: Himself looketh into the bottom of thy consci­ence. Ask leave of him if thou wilt sin. But how ask, and how obtain? Exercise a little patience, and this temptation will vanish away as a cloud. Thou goest about to commit a sin, the pardon whereof is very uncertain, but it is doubtless through all eternity, when thou hast committed it, God himself cannot make it to be undone.

XII. Think not you are the less acceptable to God when he suffereth you to be tempted, yea with dishonest thoughts, which to chaste souls are extream­ly irksom. Alas, why? If S. Paul, that Cherubim, scorched with celestial ardours, who fixed his foot upon the front of the stars, if we follow the opi­nion of S. Ambrose, Theophylact, and Oecumenius, felt the stings of concupiscence in a flesh rapt to the third Heaven, think you for having some good dis­positions of well-doing, you ought to be freed from wars of nature, which ever keep in humility your soul a little too indulgent to it self?

The eighteenth SECTION. Remedies against passions and temptations which proceed from every vice.

I. TO consider that passion is a motion of the sensual appetite, which proceedeth from the imagination of good or evil, with some agitation of the body.

II. That there are eleven passions, six in the ap­petite of concupiscence, which are love, hatred, desire, aversion, joy, sadness. Five in the appetite of revenge, which are hope, despair, boldness, fear, anger.

III. That there are two means to vanquish all passions, whereof the first is a precaution of mind against the occasions and vain apparences of all things of the world; and the second a serious enter­tainment of the mind in better things, as prayer, stu­dy, labour, affairs: But above all you must beg of God the light and strength of his holy grace, which infinitely surpasseth all humane remedies,

We here adde some preservatives against passions and the most ordinary vices.

Of three temptations which hinder many in the way of perfection, to wit, shame of well-doing, over-much affection to some creature, and pensiveness in well-doing. The nineteenth SECTION. Against the shame of well-doing.

MAny would quickly be in the way of a life truly Christian, having souls of an excellent temper, and pious relishes of God, but that they have one temptation; who would believe it? it is the shame of well-doing. Their souls are big with Eagles stone. good desires, resembling the Eagles stone which ever hath another in it, and never brings it forth. So have they in their hearts (according to their own opinion) a good resolution seriously to em­brace devotion: but the fear of what men will say, scattereth as many good thoughts as the heart can conceive. What practice of remedies will you have against this pusillanimity, effeminate soul? Onely consider what you do, and if you be ashamed, it can be of nothing but of your self. Unworthines to be ashamed of wel-doing.

First I ask, who maketh you blush in the service of your spouse? Do you blush at his poverty? At his deformity? At his ignorance? Or tell me, what decay have you observed in him to imprint a blush­ing vermillion on your face? Poor? How can he be so, since he maketh all rich? Deformed? How can he be so, since he is original beauty spred over all the creatures of the world? Ignorant? How can he be so, since he is the Eternal Wisdom? Tell me then, what have you to be ashamed of? Some will say, that you would seem to be virtuous and devout. Do not so, but be so indeed. If you have not cause to blush for Heaven, why should you blush for virtues, which are the daughters of Heaven? Behold what sacriledge you commit: Shamefac'dness is made for vices. It is the veil wherewith nature covereth them when they endeavour to hide themselves, and you will shadow virtues. Alas! the Martyrs have become red with bloud to preserve devotion, and you blush with shame to betray it. A feaverish respect towards some creature which passeth away in the turning of a hand, hindereth perhaps thirty or forty years of vir­tue. O misery!

Secondly, what have you so much to excite and Number of the devout should settle you. drive you forward in well-doing? Think you your self to be at this present the onely creature in the world which tasteth devotion? A thousand and a thousand well qualified have advanced the standard of piety. If the number of the bad authorize wicked­ness, why should not so goodly a troup of honest men furnish us with confidence enough to vanquish one impious fantasie, which verily is nothing, nor hath any substance, but what your remisness afford­eth it?

Then tell me in the third place, what is it you so Doubt and childishness of this shame. much fear, to addict your self wholly to devotion? The twinkling of an eye, a silly smile, a breath of words, which quickly passeth and hurteth none? And behold why you forsake God. What is more easie to be overcome than all that? A little silence answereth all. It is not required of you you should oppose your arms against the violent stream of a tor­rent. Silence onely is demanded, and to hope well, which are the two easiest things of the world. Will Isai. 11. In silentio & spe erit forti­tudo vestra. you put a great affront upon a babler, who flouteth at your devotions? Answer him not. All he saith is to put you into passion; your impatience plea­seth him, your silence confoundshim. In the end he cannot say so much, but that you may hear much more. He hath but one mouth, and you have two ears. Let Michol revile, and persist you in dancing 2 Reg. 9. before the Ark, your patience shall stop all mouths, and in the end purchase all crowns. But you fear What' you should fear. you cannot persevere in the way of virtue, and that many changes may cast some aspersion of inconstan­cy upon you. You do well to fear your self, if you so much expect perseverance from your self. But if you look for it from God, ought you not to have more hope of his goodness, than fear from your own infirmities? You are not advised to make your de­votions eminent by some notable alteration, extraor­dinary in the exteriour, accompanied with cere­monious enforcements insupportable to your condi­tion. No: But undertake a devotion sweet, facile, and conform to common use, which hath less of outward semblance, and more of inward worth: So shall you the better preserve it, and it shall be the more profitable for you.

The twentieth SECTION. Love of creatures.

AFter shame, cometh likewise a snare much Adhering to creatures marreth all. more dangerous, to wit, the love of creatures. Many souls seem already to poyze themselves [Page 83] and soar into the skie, but there is some little thread, wretched, and weak, which fettereth their feet. One cannot forsake such a lodging, another such an ex­ercise, a third such a custom, a fourth such a com­pany, which in the mean space dissolveth the course of his good purposes, maketh his heart become chil­dish, and sometimes dull and stupid to the relishes of God. Amongst all encounters this is the most pow­erful Passion of love. which proceedeth from the passion of love, and sometimes among persons who have their souls most pure, and such as are in their own opinions far re­moved from this mischievous passion, yet are not without peril. If this should come like some other gross and carnal love with an arrow and torch in hand, one might more easily defend himself; but it Love is like to infects. approcheth with a little sting, subtile, slender, and as it were wholly spiritual, that one cannot well per­ceive it in the beginning. It resembleth those little flying worms which Phaedon speaketh of, that un­perceivably Phaedon. apud Sencec. ep. 49. Adeo tenuis il­lis & fallcus in periculis vis est, tumor in­dicat morsum. sting: When they have fixed their sting, we do not know they have stung us, until we see some swelling rise upon the skin. So in such petty love­daliances we see not the wound nor sting, we know not what we suffer, what we do, what we undertake, what we desire. One doth hardly know that he loves: notwithstanding the soul is puffed up, and goeth out of its limits, and is dissolved into an Oce­an of disturbances, which are very prejudicial to pu­ritie. It were better to have as it were some kind of The danger thereof. leaprousie, than such a passion: For that would in­fect but the body, but this diveth in the end even in­to the bottom of the soul, weaveth its web in the marrow, forrageth all over that which hath vigour in our inward parts, leaveth meagerness and steri­lity, and maketh our heart like to those abortions of pearls which have been blasted with lightening, ha­ving instead of a bright substance, nothing else but an exteriour film.

What shall one do in this case? It is a very easie Preservative. matter to give a preservative that may keep us from the blow, but it is very difficult to draw the soreness from the wound. You need sometime but the very wind of your hat to turn away a thunder-clap, that it may not strike where it seems to be aimed; the thunder maketh his claps as remediless as sudden and violent: even so this passion in the beginning may be dispelled with a very little heed and dextetity, but when passage is made for it into the heart, it raiseth a tempest. But in conclusion, what means is there to stay it? It will be told you, you must have recourse Ordinary re­medies. to prayer, to meditation of the Cross, the day of Judgement, the invocation of the Blessed Vir­gin and Saints, the frequentation of Sacraments, fasting, the austerities of penance, and these are good remedies: Yet you notwithstanding will say, what prayer can one make when he is engulfed in a passion which perpetually buzzeth in his brain? Do like Jonas, crie out of the Whales belly, call from the bottom of the abyss with many jaculatory pray­ers. But to what use will austerities serve? the bo­die is subdued, it is true; but yet passion remaineth still in the bottom of the soul. It nought import­eth: the weakness of flesh by little and little cutteth the sinews of passions which are inherent in the flesh. All this, you will say, is likewise feasible, provided I be not thereby separated from the com­pany of such a one. And behold the inconvenien­cy; you will perpetually put oyl into the flame, and not have it burn.

I. The most sovereign remedy, is, what you least Sovereign re­medies. desire, though you make shew of desiring health. All that which cherisheth the maladie, is the pre­sence of the object. Our passions resemble ecchoes: Do you not see that ecchoes the further you go Passions are ecchoes. from them, the less repercussion there is, they lessen­ing and loosing themselves in the air. This affe­ction, that speaketh so loud by reflection of the countenance which you daily behold with so much contentment, will quickly vanish by a little absence. But one day alone of separation is an Age to you: Suffer this Age, and the time will come it shall not last an hour with you.

II. Verily all well considered, the play is not Folly of this passion. worth the candle. Must you inflict so many pains upon your bodies, so many torments on your mind, loose so much time, make so many ill tongues talk, to please I know not what petty, wicked, and founde­red desire, which you know not what it is, not to what it tendeth?

III. If you knew what you desired, you would be ashamed of your self, you would have cause to be amazed that so noble a spirit should suffer it self to be transported with such follies. The notable Ray­mond Cure of Ray­mond Lullius. Lullius, who passionately was enamoured of a Ladie, wise, and honest, when purposely to cure his frenzie, she shewed him one of her breasts eaten and gnawn through with a canker, and extreamly hyde­ous to behold, Stay simple man (said she) behold what you loved; he at that instant coming to himself, spake: Alas! was it for this I lost so many good hours, that I burned, became entranced, that I pas­sed through fire and water? All lovers would say the like were the scarff taken from their eyes.

IV. It well appeareth you want some great af­front, Want of em­ployment. some real pains, some serious employment. It is the superfluous excess of idleness which dissolveth your heart into these effeminacies. You were better have some mischievous process against you, than all these trifling entertainments. Frame some good em­ployment to free your self from a bad. Remember Hier. ad Ru­stic. Viocre non licet, & fornicari lice­bit? that which was said: When one hath no leisure to live, he hath no leisure to love.

V. Represent to your self that a thousand un­daunted courages (for that they have twice or thrice resisted passion constantly) have found themselves free, at liberty, in peace and tranquality of spirit, wholly admirable, and you for want of a little reso­lution daily tumble and involve your self in your fetters. Make a little resistance, cast away I pray all Strength of reason. these little urchins which afflict you. Is an absence so troublesom, that to avoid it you must torture your body, vilifie your spirit, and yield your reputation up as a prey to slander? You shall no sooner put the wedge into the block, but it shall be done; you shall have a soul victoriously elevated over passion, which shall rejoyce amidst the tropheys thereof.

The one and twentieth SECTION. Against sadness.

HAve you never represented to your self the poor Elias lying under the Juniper tree, op­pressed with melancholly, and saying to God with an effectionate heart: My God it is enough; take Reg. 3. 19. my soul. I am no better than my fore-fathers? This passion often happeneth in persons who are entered into the list of a life more perfect. Anxiety crosseth them, sadness gnaweth them, melancholy afflicteth Sadness the snare of Sa­tan. them, and Satan (willing ever to fish in a troubled water) serves himself with this disturbance of mind, to make them return back again to the false plea­sures of the world. What remdy, what practice shall we confront this mischief with? Let us use Davids harp to charm this dangerous devil of Saul. You are sad, say you: It much concerneth you to sound your heart, that you may know from whence this pensiveness proceeedeth, and apply fit remedy there­unto. Sometime sadness cometh from an indi­screet zeal, when one will of his own accord un­dertake [Page 84] austerities, neither ordered nor digested by counsel. He cannot find good success, yet is asha­med to go back again, which is the cause he is tor­mented between the hammer and the anvile. Some­time it proceedeth from a great immortification Causes of sadness. Im­mortification of passions, which at the enterance into a spiritual life (he beginning to pick quarrels with them) put themselves into the field, assailing and turmoyling the mind. As it is said, a little fish called the wasp of the sea, in the dog-days stingeth and disquieteth the repose of other fishes. It is perhaps as yet in your soul: neither day nor night, winter nor summer, cold nor heat, but good and evil struggle who shall get the upper hand, and this war troubleth you. Sometime it proceedeth from a great tenderness of heart, and a passionate love of ones self. It seem­eth to a little girle who weepeth in the nook of a chamber, that the whole world is interessed in her sorrow, and that every body should bemoan her. Nothing is like to her unhappiness, her burdens are Tears of self-flatterers. of lead, and all others are as light as feathers; or if you weep not with her, she becometh the more melancholy, and if you do sorrow with her, she taketh a higher tone to deplore her grievances. There is many times much niceness in our sorrows, and of­tentimes our tears are nothing else but meer foppe­ries. From this self-love proceedeth vanity and complacence, which serve us with worm-wood to season our morsels withal.

The man who is over-much pleased with himself, Self-love. necessarily displeaseth many, and to gain too great a friend within himself, he purchaseth sundry enemies without himself. All things cannot happen to his wish, and as good successes inebriate him with con­tentments, so evil torture and immoderate contri­state him. Briefly, bad melancholly often riseth Jealous eye. from a jealous and envious eye: The good hap of another is a straw in his eye, which ever will trouble him, if charity bring not her helping hand. Behold here a lamentable mischief. All the perfecti­ons of another are ours when we love them in an­other, and when we hate them they are thorns in our eyes, which extreamly torment us. Have we not pain Parùm alicui est si ipse sis foelix, nisi al­ter fuerit in­foelix. Salvian. de gubern. Dei. lib. 5. enough within our selves, but we must plant crosses in the prosperity of others? Sound your heart, and see whether your sadness proceeds from one of these five sources, or from many of them together. Take away the cause by the favour of Gods grace, by the help of your endeavour, courage, and resolution, you shall have the effect, and enjoy a peaceable soul, like Heaven smiling in a bright serenity.

My sadness, say you, cometh not from this occa­sion. Would to God it were so. You were already sufficiently happy, if all I have said were not of force to make you sad. From whence cometh it then? From the accidents which befal me on every side; and if nothing happen to me, I am unquiet with mine own self. If you think to live wholly without sad­ness, Sadness a plant of our own growing you must frame a new world for your self. Sad­ness is a bitter plant which groweth in your garden: you must know at one time or other what tast it hath. To think wholly to free your self, is to make your self a King in the cards, and onely to brave it in paper, like the ancient Philosophers who had their hands shorter than their tongues. Our Saviour was contri­stated in the dolorous garden, watered with bloudy sweats, to teach us the perfection of a Christian is not in being sensible of sorrow, but to moderate the same with resolution.

The best remedy is that which Jesus Christ hath Remedies. shewed to us, to wit, Prayer. It is a wonderful contentment to speak to God, and to tell him your afflictions. Behold you not in a garden-bed how those poor tulips are shut up with melancholy under the shadie coldness of the night? And you may well say the Sun within his rays beareth the key to open them: For so soon as he riseth and courteth them a little with that eye which exhilarateth total nature, behold they unloose themselves, dilate them­selves, and witness their joy for the arrival of this pla­net. The like happeneth to your heart, it sometimes long remaineth benummed and frozen for want of having recourse to prayer. Learn a little to talk with God by jaculatory prayers. Learn to complain your self to God, and to seek the remedies of your wounds in his mercies, and you will find a great lightening and alacrity.

The second, to have a spiritual Father or a discreet and faithful friend, to whom one may unburden his conscience with all confidence and security. The cloud, how dark or surchaged soever it be, in that proportion it emptieth it self, cleareth, and the heart unburdening its calamities in the ear of another, be­cometh more bright and lustrous.

Thirdly, some spiritual Fathers advise a discipline, to suppress interiour sadness by exteriour sorrow: But this remedy is not for all sorts of men. Saint Hier. ad Ru­sticum. Hypo­ [...]ratis magis fomentis, quàm nostris moniti [...] indiget. Remedies of Hypocrates. Not to play the Timon. Hierom is a better Physitian, who ordained for cer­tain melancholy men, rather to use the fomentations of Hypocrates, than to afflict their bodies, and di­stil their brains in other practices. You must take very good heed you make not your self a Tim [...]n, and hate men and life, entertaining your self in hy­pocondriack humours, which throw a mind into the gulf of disturbance. God willeth us to take moderate pleasure in creatures, which he hath made for our content and ease, that we may enjoy them in time and place, every one according to his condi­tion, profession, and rule of wisdom. Synesius saith, [...]. Pleasure lays hold of the soul. Somnus & balnea dolorem mitigant. S. Thom. 2. q. 138. Date siceram merentibus, & vinum iis qui amaro sunt a­nimo. Prov. 2. the Creatour hath given the feeling of pleasure to sense to serve as an arrest to the soul, and to hold it in good quarter with the body. Saint Thomas among the re­medies of sadness, prescribes sleep and bathing. The Scripture it self counselleth us to give wine and other fitting draughts for them to drink, who have their hearts oppressed with bitterness If one think to make a great sacrifice to God, resting perpetually, stretched and involved in a pensive austeritie of spi­rit, as being desirous to avoid all pleasures of life, he deceiveth himself: It hath happened, that many run­ning in their own opinion to Paradise by this path, according to peculiar fancie, have found themselves on the borders of hell.

Fourthly, to remember our life is a musick-book, Our life is a musick-book. seldom shall you find there many white notes toge­ther in the same line: black are mixed among them, and all together make an excellent harmo­nie. God gives us a lesson in a little book which hath but two pages, the one is called Consolation, the other Desolation: It is fit for each of them to take its turn. In the day of adversity think of pro­sperity: In the day of prosperity remember your self of adversity. That great Prelate of Cyrenum Synes. in hymno. said, that the Divine Providence hath mingled our life, as one would do wine and water in a cup; some drink the purest, some the most compound, but all tast a commixtion.

Fifthly, if you exactly compare our condition to that of an infinite number of miserable creatures, who groan in so many tedious and disastrous tor­ments, you will find your fardel but a dew. But we have a certain malignity of spirit, which ever looks back on the good it hath not, to envy it, and ne­ver considers the evil from whence it is freed, to render thanks to God. Behold some are in the bottom of a dungeon in fetters, others are bowed in painful labours from the rising to the setting Sun, to get their bred. Some have the megrim in their head, the gout in their feet and hands, the stone in their kidneys. Others are overwhelmed with busi­ness, loss, misfortunes, strange and portentous ac­cidents, yet carry it out with courage. Your heart is [Page 85] nipped with a little sadness, and behold you despair; what effeminacie of spirit is this? It is said hares see­ing themselves pursued on every side, had one day resolved to drown themselves, but coming to the brink of a river, and beholding frighted frogs who cast themselves at all adventure in the water to e­scape: Courage (said they) we are not yet the most miserable treatures of the world, behold those who are more fearfull than we. Ah how often should we say the same, if we saw the miseries of others!

Sixthly, is it not a goodly thing to behold a man, Unworthines of sadness. who probably speaking is in the favour of God, who is here nourished with Sacraments, with Christs body and bloud, with the word of his Master, who liveth among so many helps and comforts, spiritual and temporal, who expecteth a resurrection, a Paradise, a life eternally happy and happily eternal, in so beau­tifull a societie of Saints, to frame pensiveness and scruples to himself of his own head, to afflict him­self like a Pagan or a damned soul, that hath no fur­ther hope? It is related that God one day, to give an antipast of beatitude to a holy man turmoiled with sundry cogitations, caused an unknown little bird to chant in his ear in so melodious a manner, that instantly his troubled spirit became clean, and pure, and held him rapt many years in the most tastfull delicacies may be imagined. O if you often had strong imaginations of Paradise, how your melan­choly would melt and dissolve, as snow before the Sun-beams!

Lastly, sing spiritual canticles, labour, employ Noble tears. your spirit without anxiety, and if needs you will weep, lament your imperfections, bewail the miseries of the poor, sorrow for your curiositie, lament the passion of your spouse, grieve and sigh at your im­patience, after this glory of Paradise, weep over the deluge on the earth, look back like a chast dove on Dulces lachri­mae sunt ipsi fletus jucundi, quibus restrin­tur ardor ani­mi, & quasi relaxatus eva­porat affectus. the ark of your good father Noe, the father of re­pose and consolation: Then will I say of such tears with S. Ambrose: O the delicious tears, O the pleasing complaints, which extinguish the fervours of our mind, and make our affections sweetly to evaporate!

The two and twentieth SECTION. The third combate of the spiritual man against impuritie.

ALl impuritie of life, ariseth from three sources (whereof S. John speaketh) concupisence of Joan. 2. Three sources of impietie. the flesh, concupiscence of the eyes, and pride of life. Let us now see the practice of virtues which oppose these three sorts of impurities. Against con­cupiscence of the flesh, temperance, chastitie, mode­stie do wage war: Against the concupiscence of eyes, to wit, the unbridled desires of temporal bles­sings; povertie, justice, charitie, mercie, gratitude: Against pride of life, humilitie, obedience, magna­nimitie, patience, clemencie.

The three and twentieth SECTION. Practice of Chastitie.

CHastitie is a virtue which represseth the impure lust of the flesh, a celestial virtue, an Angelical virtue, which maketh heaven and Angels de­scend upon the earth, and in this kingdom of mor­talitie planteth the image and titles of immortality. Clemens Alexandrinus maketh mention of certain Clemen Alex. strommat. enchanted mountains, at the foot whereof was heard a voice as of people preparing themselves for battel; a little further, the encounter and conflict; and on the top, songs and triumphs. Behold as it Three sorts of chastitie. were the condition of three sorts of chastitie. With some it beginneth with labour and uncertaintie; there is at the first toil and resistance against lust, but the even thereof is not known. With others it is become more manly, as being already practiced in combats. With others it triumpheth after a long habit, yet notwithstanding whilest here on earth it abideth, it is never absolutely secured.

The acts thereof are, Acts.

I. To renounce all unlawfull voluptuousness of the flesh.

II. To abstain from carnal acts, not onely those which are unlawfull, but sometime such as are per­mitted among married folk upon just occasion, or for some certain time, which is very ordinarie; or perpetually, which is singular and remarkable in the lives of some Saints. So Martianus lived with his wife Pulcheria, and Henry the Emperour with the Empress Chunegundis.

III. To repress all the desires and concupiscen­ces of flesh, and if one have any feeling thereof, not to give consent thereunto.

IV. Never to stay at all upon thoughts and ima­ginations of things dishonest; but so soon as they present themselves, to chase them away and extin­guish them in your heart, no otherwise than you should quench a burning hot iron in a foun­tain.

V. To mortifie your senses, which are most com­monly Eyes. Oculi patellae luxuriae. Isidor. apud S. Bern. tom. 1 serm. de lu­xuria. Salvian. l. 3. de gubernat. Oculi tui vide­bunt extrane­a, & cor tu­um loquetur perversa. Prov. 23. 3. the fore-runners of sin, and above all to re­strain your eyes, which according to the opinion of S: Isidore, are as dishes wherein luxurie serveth up the viands of voluptuousness. They are the windows, the alurements, the snares, the conduits of love: It buddeth in the eyes, that it may at leasure blossome in the heart. And therefore it is fit to stand upon your guard with so subtile and vigorous a sence, which often filleth the soul with appetites and flames. I do not say that one should look upon no­thing, and always live as if the soul were buried alive in the flesh; but I affirm, you must divert your sight from objects which dart a sting into a mind sensible of such penetrations. As for the ears, there is no doubt they may serve as handles for love, and that it hath taken many that way. An evil word hath fin­gers to incite the flesh: He who heareth it, and he that willingly speaketh it, is not innocent before God. Smelling blasteth chastitie, and tast roughly assaulteth; but kisses and unchast touche [...] cut her throat.

VI. To flie idleness, reading of love-books, co­medies, stage-plays, immodest pictures, feasts, private familiarities, loose companie, and all occasions of sin.

VII. To have in detestation even the shadows of impuritie. To speak, to proclaim in every place the praises of chastitie, and for this purpose to love penance, mortification of the bodie, labour, rough and harsh apparel, modestie, even to the seeming somewhat wayward, the Sacrament of the Eucha­rist, the meditation of the four last things, devotion towards the most blessed Virgin, and all that may conduce to the maintenance of honestie.

VIII. To remain firm in great and forcible temptations is verily the trophey of chastitie. Since (as Plato hath said) the triumph of virtue is to have the power, not the will to sin. It was a notable act of Chastitie of Charls the 8. continencie in Charls the eigth, ardently to love a maiden endowed with an exquisite beautie, to have her at his dispose, and yet to abstain for one sole word Lyps. in mo­nitis politic. lib. 2. cap. 17. Exemplo 12. addit datos puellae 500. aureos. which this poor creature spake to him, brought even into his chamber: For she by chance perceiving the picture of our Ladie, cast her self at the Kings feet, shewed him this image, crying out with a face all [Page 86] bathed in tears: Sir, I beseech you for this Virgins sake preserve the honour of a silly maid. At this word spo­ken for a young King enkindled with love, and abso­lute in power, to conquer the motions of lust, is it not a matter that meriteth much applause?

IX. To contemn great rewards and high ad­vancements of fortune, for the preservation of cha­stitie: Johannes Mos­chus in prato. A couragious Ladie. As did that noble Lady of whom John Mos­chus speaketh, who seeing her husband consume in perpetual prison for debt, not able any way to relieve him, was reduced to terms of extream and miserable want, and besides pursued by a man of prime note, with all sorts of allurements, offers, and accommo­dations, which might shake and stagger an afflicted heart, and enforce her to condescend to a sin, which seemed to have necessity for a patroness; she not­withstanding stood firm like a rock, preferring chasti­tie poor and patient, before a rich and delicate dis­honour. I could also nominate creatures as pure, as strong, adorned with most excellent natural parts, more chaste, more wise, more fortunate than Lucrece, who with as much industry as courage, have refused powerful and passionate men, that sought them with such excessive benefits, as would have overwhelmed any inferiour chastitie. But they, not to commit one onely sin, covered under the curtain of the night, have despised treasures, to guard another jewel in an ear­then vessel, who for this act deserve to be raised above the stars.

X. To withdraw the chastity of others from this sink, with liberal alms, great labour, infinite in­commodities: As that worthy Hermit Abraham Abraham the Hermite. did, of whom Surius speaketh, who loaden with years and merits, went into a brothel-house in disguised habit, to reduce a Niece of his that went astray: as at this day many honest matrons, worthy of eternal memory, spare nothing to gain poor abused doves out of the faulcons tallons, and dedicate them to Altars, where soon after they work wonders in matter of virtue.

XI. To suffer in your body great torments, yea Hieron. in vita Pauli & Sa­bel. l. 5. c. 6. death it self for the defence of chastity, as many holy virgins have done. As that youth, reputed the son of a King of Nicomedia, who fast tyed on a bed of flowers and wooed by a Courtizane with intention to corrupt him, spit out his tongue like a dart of fire and bloud in the face of this she-wolf. A tongue, Lingua silet, clamatque si­lens loquitur (que) pudorem, san­guine quae pin­xit sola pudi­citiam. A bold at­tempt of Di­dymus. which in dumb eloquence speaketh to all posteritie, and proclaimeth the honour of chastitie.

XII. To expose your self to great sufferings for the preservation of others chastitie: As that brave Didymus, a young beardless Gentleman, who behol­ding a poor Christian maid, named Theodora, thrown into a brothel, caused her to escape by giving her the habit of a man, and himself remained for pledge in the attires of a woman, expecting the fury of exe­cutioners Ambr. lib. 2. de virgin. Quasi adulter ingressus, si vis, Martyr [...]gre­diar. Vestimen­ta mutemus; conveniunt mihi tua, & mea tibi; sed utraque Chri­sto. Tua vestis me verum mi­litem faciet, mea te virgi­nem. Bené tu vestieris, ego melius exuar. who gave him the crown of Martyrdom. Saint Ambrose makes him speak to the maid to this effect: Sister, I am come hither as an adulterer, and if it please you I will go out a Martyr: Let us change ha­bits, I pray you: we are as I perceive both of one sta­ture: My apparrel very well fitteth you, but yours will set much better upon me, and both will agree in the ser­vice of Christ Jesus. My attire shall make you a virgin, and yours me a Martyr. You shall be most fortunately clothed, and I more happily despoiled. It was so done. Didymus was apprehended, and Theodora understand­ing it, run back like a lyoness amidst the swords to die with him.

The twenty fourth SECTION. Practice of temperance.

TEmperance, taken in general, is a virtue which S. Thom. 2. 2. quaest. 141. represseth the appetites of concupiscence in things that please the senses, especially of touch and Temperance the first tri­bute of san­ctitie. tast. The temperance of touching consisteth in cha­stitie; that of tasting is properly abstinence and so­brietie. It is the first virtue which God seems to have required of man from the worlds in fancie; the first tribute of sanctitie and innocencie, which our first parents could not leave without loosing them­selves and all posteritie. A virtue, which is the hori­zon that separateth vegetative man from the in­tellectual: A virtue, which raiseth us from the earth, and bringrth us near to heaven: A virtue which makes a noble soul shine in a mortal bodie, as a torch of odoriferous wood in a Christaline watch-tower. On the contrarie, a bodie surcharged with kitchin-repletion holdeth the soul as one would a smoking snuff of a candle in a greasie lantern.

The acts of this virtue are,

I. In refection to have no other rule but necessi­tie, Refection of bodie. S. Aug. Conf. 1. 31. Hoc me docu­isti, ut quem­admodum me­dicamenta sic alimenta sum­pturus acce­dam. no other aym but the glory of God, and enter­tainment of the bodie for the service of the soul. Saint Augustine after his conversion came to meals (as himself saith) as into an infirmarie to take a me­dicine.

II. To take all the necessities of bodie as the Ae­gyptian dog doth the water of Nilus, running, there­by saving himself from superfluous excesse. To take them as the souldiers of Gedeon drank at the foun­tain, in the hollow palms of their hands, cheerfully, not prostrating themselves on the ground; or as the dove taketh grains of corn, pecking her meat up with her bill, and turning her eye to heaven.

III. To eat and drink with all civilitie, decen­cie, discretion; and seeing we must use this necessarie trade of a beast, to do it at least like a man.

IV. To abstain from prohibited meats in times limited by the Church, exactly to observe fasts de­voutly ordained by the same authoritie, and practi­ced by our Ancestours, not becoming nicely curi­ous, nor repining at Lenten abstinencies. To pre­scribe also a law to your self of some fasts of devoti­on upon certain dayes of the week, and especially friday, as many noble personages have done, and daily do. Gallen that great Physitian advised to Fast of Gallen Joann. Saris [...]. Policr. lib. 8. make a fast from ten days to ten, in the manner of a physical prescription, affirming it was an excellent mean to defend ones self from great and dangerous maladies.

V. To be very sober in drinking, to take little wine, and mingle it well. Drunkenness (saith Saint Ambrose) is a superfluous creature in the world: It S. Ambros. de Elia & Jejun. A drunkard what. is the scorn of nature; it is an old shoe soaked in wa­ter. A man is no longer a man, but a bottle perpe­tually filled and emptied: He lives like a But, which doth nothing but leak and roul up and down; and when the head thereof is knocked out, you find no­thing there but lees and dregs: wine is a familiar or spirit which possesseth him, and is the milk of Venus which nourisheth his concupiscence. All his life is an enterlude, and drunkennesse his tomb. All men truely great are sober. It is utterly to degenerate from Nobilitie to be addicted to this infamous vice. You who serve Kings, who are in their Royal seats Vae qui poten­tes estis ad bi­bendum. as the Sun in the heavens, remember your selves that heretofore in the Sacrifice of the sun hony was offer­ed, not wine.

VI. To be very temperate in the quantitie of vi­ands: Phylocorus Hi­stor. lib. 12. For it is a very great shame to make ones self as it were a living sepulchre of all sorts of butcheries, and build to your self a tomb of fat, with excesse in eating, as did the wretched Dionysius spoken of by Aelian, who had grooms of his chamber about his bed ever readie night and day to prick him with needles, with distances between, lest his fat conspi­ring with sleep should suffocate him. On the other side, it is dangerous to destroy your stomach by scru­pulous and extraordinarie observations of your own inventing, which may put you into a course of [Page 87] providing pain for your self and attendance for o­thers.

VI. Not to be so curious in the choice of delicate meats, but to take them indifferently according to your quality and profession. It may happen, that a Noble man feeding on a curious dish with sobriety, may observe temper, and another cracking his guts with beans fall into a nasty superfluity of gour­mandise. The virtue of temperance is not so much in the matter as the manner. It is written, that a great Roman Lord, being retired into the deserts of Egypt to attend contemplation, was one day visited by an Aeyptian Monk, who had all his life time been a gross peasant bred among cows and cattle, and had an iron stomack, which in excessive quanti­ty devoured the most sordid and despicable meats. This man much scandalized to see the Roman Monk feed on that which seemed delicate to him, and to drink a little wine at his repast, forsook his Cell with small account of his host, and much presumption of his own temper, when the other miraculously penetrating into his thoughts reprehended him, and he at that time easily acknowledged himself very short of his perfection whom he despised.

VIII. Not to have your mind employed on sau­ces Shameful law of the Syba­rites and kitchin-cookeries, as those lasy Sybarites, who made such account of a new kind of broth found out, that by an express law they permitted the authour thereof to enjoy it alone one whole year, before the invention should be communicated to any other.

IX Not to enlarge your thoughts upon viands Strang gree­diness. with a greediness and profusion of spirit, as if one would swallow the sea and fishes therein, as Epi­charmus writeth of a certain gentleman, who bowed his whole body in eating, crashed his teeth, made a noise with his chaps, blew his nose, rubbed his ears, made a certain sound in his throat, all his body went a long with it. A true mediocrity of feeding, is, to be neither too greedy and gluttonous, nor too abstinent or transported; but modest in your countenance, prompt to help, prudent to see what is done, and to prevent want in others. It would ill be­come Notable distraction. a Noble man so to abstract his spirits at the ta­ble, as those good religious men of whom it is re­corded in the history of the Anchorets of Aegypt, that they took capon for cabbadge: They were at Theophilus the Patriarch of Constantinoples table, and did eat like mad men, thinking they still had been in their Monastery. It happened the Bishop carving to the eldest of them, gave him the wing of a capon, and courteously said unto him: Father eat hereof, doth not this capon seem good meat to you? He comming as it were out of a trance: How? is this capon then, Sir? I pray you pardon us for we took it for cabbage, else verily none of us had touched it.

X. Not to out-run the hours of repast through impatience: not to be so addicted to serve our cu­riosities and delights, that thereby we leave not a good dinner to do a good work. Is it not a shame­ful thing of one Hugucchio, who lost two towns as Hugucchio lost two cities for a dinner. Jovius relateth) for fear he should loose a good meal, so that it being at the same instant in his power to give order for a revolt which was plotted, he rather chose to sit out his dinner, and by this means for­sook a fair opportunity?

XI. To content ones self with a little upon occa­sion, as the young Theodosius, who thought he had made a good meal when he had eaten certain fops of bread steeped in water, within the Cell of an Her­mit. The wise Hebrews have a proverb, which saith: Man is known by three things; by anger, by his purse, by his glass. It is a note of a well mortified spirit Man known by 3. things. when complaints are never made of wants that happen in service for the mouth

XII. To speak willingly of sobriety, yea even in a feast, like the Persians; or frame some other honest discourse which may give refection to the soul while the body taketh his, and beg perpetually of God to deliver us from the necessities of the body, and that he weaken in us these base concupiscences of the flesh, that we may preserve for him this his tabernacle in all purity.

The five and twentieth. SECTION. Practice of Modesty.

MOdesty is a branch of temperance, a goodly Modesty is important. and eminent virtue, which seemeth as it were to incorporat our soul, and make her visible in her actions, whose office is to guid the motions, gestures, words, mirth, habit, gate, and garb, and all that which appertaineth to the exteriour ornament of the body.

Her actions are.

I. To govern the tongue, to speak truth in time To speak, what? and place, roundly and freely, without deceit, palli­ation, boasts, impostures, detractions.

II. Never to have a bitter and furious silence, pry­ing into anothers words, nor to use a tattle unman­nerly, clamorous, and tiresome, catching the word out of another mans mouth, as little chickens do, who snatch bits one from another, It was the comparison which father Gontery of happy memory used.

III. Not to be magistral, with a counterfeited gra­vity, nor riotous, haughty, fierce, rude, no buffon, nor loud laugher: A fool (saith the wiseman) crackleth in laughing, as thorns in the fire.

IV. Not to have your tongue either of too high Tone of voice. or low a tone, but moderat, distinct, in sweet, honest, ordinary, intelligible accents.

V. To have the composition of your countenance, Counte­nance. pleasing, gratious, modest, without crabbedness or affectation; the carriage of your body native, comely, free from extraordinary gestures: Not to have a gid­dy head, like a linnet, always shaking, no wrinkled brow, nor crumpled nose, no perplexed visage, nor eyes wandring, wanton, or proud.

VI. The apparel neither superfluous, fantastik, nor Habit. dissolute, without too much affecting new fashions, nor peremtorily out of your own conceit tying your self to the old; but to attend your own condition, and remain in the lists of the modesty which is most practised by the wisest. Above all let women beware they set not to sale to carnal eyes that nakedness of their breasts, which may serve for baits for sin. The Scripture saith, Whosoever shall cause sparkles of fire to flie into another mans corn, shall be acountable for all the dammage which the flames shall make.

VII. To acquire modesty, it is good to represent Means to ac­quire mo­desty. to your self often before your eyes our Saviour con­versing upon earth, and to pray him he will give us a soul pure and radiant, like a star, which impresseth his rays upon the body as the Sun on a cloud, in, and through all, to edifie our neighbour.

The six and twentieth. SECTION. Practice of prudence and carriage in conversation.

HAve you observed a fish in the natural history, Isidore. Uranoscope. which the Grecians call Uranoscopus, as one would say the beholder of heaven? This ad­mirable creature, contrary to the nature of others, hath but one eye which is as it were a vertical point fixed directly in the top of his head, ever elevated, and [Page 88] perpetually open, to discover so many labyrinths of snares and treacheries as commonly are in the sea. Some will say it is Tobias his fish, a notable creature, which not onely contributeth his gall to illuminate the eyes of the body, but his example to enlighten the eyes of the mind. It is a true Hierogliph of prudence, which telleth us we should at this day converse in the world as in a sea full of monsters, tempests, rocks, perils, surprises, and that we must have the eye of prudence throughly awakened and purified, to preserve and maintain it among so many hazards. This prudence in a word (according to S. Bernard) S. Bernard. serm. de V [...] ­lico. is nothing els but the knowledge of good and evil, which sheweth how we should demean our selves, and the ways we should tread, in the course of our life and affairs. It is one of the principal virtues, be­cause Importance of prudence. all our actions depend on it. Yea prudence holdeth them as it were enfolded in the plaits of her robe, and unfoldeth them according to place, time, persons, occasions, which to know, is to know all.

It is said, a French King enquiring one day of a man, who was held in great reputation of wisdom, after divers instructions to govern himself and guide his Kingdom, this wise man took a fair large sheet of paper, and for an infinite number of pre­cepts which others use to produce upon this subject, he onely wrot this word: Modus, Measure or Mean, All wisdom reduced to one word. thereby inferring, that the whole mysterie of our wisdom and felicity consisteth in doing things with grace, fashion, and measure, and that is it which pru­dence teacheth. We speak not here in particular of the Religious, oeconomical, military, politike, mo­narchical, but in general of the direction of life in ordinary conversation: For that seemeth annexed to the virtue of modesty. Imagine to your self that prudence, as antiquity hath presented it unto us Prudence a hand sprinck­led with eyes. Five fingers of prudence. in their Hierogliphs, is a hand enchased with eyes, which hath five remarkeable fingers, wherein all discreet actions are contained. These five fingers are memory, understanding, circumspection, fore-sight, execution: which is to say, that for the practice of this virtue,

I. A good memory is necessary, to remember things Memory. passed, as well what one hath read in books, as those which are observed by proper experience; for that much conduceth to inform the judgement: And besides, he that in all actions hath not memo­ry, when there is occasion to manage some affair, oftentimes findeth he hath not well called to mind all particulars, which putteth him into confusion. Behold why (as all men have not servants for memo­ry, as had the Kings the great men of Persia, and Ro­mans) it is necessary to have recourse to registers, records, and table-books to help your self. Some are of so happy memory, that they go (as it is said) to gather mulberries without a hook, to the well with­out a pitcher, into the rain without a cloak, Understand­ing.

II. To be intelligent and able to judge well: and for this purpose he must endeavour to know the men with whom he converseth, their nature, humour, their capacity, intention, and proceeding, to pene­trate affairs even to the marrow, not contenting himself with the outward bark and superficies. To Docibility. consider them in all senses, all semblances. To put a tax upon things according to their worth, not to run into innovations, and cunning inventions, which disguise objects. To take counsel of the most under­standing, Choice. saithful, and disinteressed men, to conde­scend to good counsels by docility of spirit after they are well examined, ever to rest upon that which hath most honesty, integrity, security.

III. In every deliberation which one makes up­on 4. Rocks of prudence. any occasion to preserve ones self from four very dangerous rocks, which are passion, precipitation, self-conceit, and vanity. Passion coloureth all busi­nesses with the tincture it hath taken. Precipita­tion goeth headlong downward into ruin. Self-con­ceit, not willing to forgo some hold, gnaweth and consumeth it-self. Vanity maketh all evaporate in smoke.

IV. To have a great circumspection and consi­deration, Circumspecti­on. Pagulus Juni­us. not to expose your self but to good purpose. To doe like that sea-crevis, which hideth himself till he hath a shell over his head, and striketh no man. To spie occasions out, and mark how the little hedg-hog doth, into what quarter the wind changeth, to alter the entrance into his house. To stand always upon your guard, to discover the ambushes and obstacles which occurre in affairs. To hold the trow­el to build with one hand, and the sword in the o­ther to defend your self. Well to observe these four precepts: To have your face open, but your thoughts cove­red from so many wiles, which perplex our affairs: To be sober in speech: Not lightly nor easily to confide in all men, nor on the other side to shew too much diffidence.

V. To be very vigilant in affairs, to fore-see what Fore-sight & vigilance. may happen in occasions, and prompt to find out means which may forward the execution of a good design. You find yet to this day in some old me­dals for a Hierogliph of prudence, a mulberry-tree Hierogliph of prudence. having a crane upon his branches, and on the stock thereof a Janus with two heads: To teach us, that one proceedeth in matter of prudence, first, by not pre­cipitating, no more than the mulberry, the wifest of all trees, which is the last that blossometh, to en­joy them with the more security, and thereby to avoid the pinching nips of frost; In watching as the crane doth, who abideth in an orderly centinel: In casting the eye upon what is past, and fore-seeing the future, as this ancient King of Italy, to whom for this cause is given a double face.

VI. To use dexterity, promptitude, and constancy Execution. in the execution of things well resolved on; that is the type and crown of prudence. Many brave resolutions are seen without fruit or effect, which are like egs full of wind: All is but a shadow and a meer illusion of prudence. Seasonable time must be taken, for as Mithridates, one of the greatest Captains of the world, saith: Occasion is the mother of all affairs; Occasio omni­um gerenda­rum rerum ma­ter. A notable medal. and time being well taken, you must execute warily, effectually, constantly. Ferdinand Duke of Bavare seems to have made a recapitulation of the prin­cipal actions of this virtue upon a piece of coyn, where was to be seen, prudence like a wise virgin seated on the back of a Dolphin, and holding in her hand a ballance, with this motto in three words: Know, Choose, Execute quickly. The virgin bearing the Cognosce, elige, matura. ensigns of wisdom, said, you must know: The Bal­lance, that you must ponder and elect with mature deliberation: The Dolphin with his agility, that you must set a seal upon your businesses by a prompt execution.

VII. In the conclusion of the whole, the best wis­dom True pru­dence. is to distrust your own judgement, and to ex­pect all from heaven, often asking of God not a wisdom humane, crafty, and impious, which is con­demned; but the wisdom of Saints, which investeth Cogitationes mortalium ti­midae & incer tae providentiae nostrae, sensum autem tuum quis sciet, nisi dederis sapien­tiam? Sap. 9. us with the possession of a true felicity. The thoughts of mortal men are fearful, and their providence uncer­tain. My God, who is able to know thy meaning, if thy self give him not wisdom? Behold the virtues which guid the senses and conversation of man, against the disorders of flesh and bloud, the chief plagues of na­ture. Let us now survey those which oppose the se­cond impurity, to wit covetousness.

Of the vritues which oppose the second impu­rity, called covetousness, to wit pover­ty, justice, charity. The seven and twentieth SECTION. Poverty of rich men.

THere are three sorts of poverty; poverty of necessity, poverty by profession, poverty of Three sorts of poverty. affection. Poverty of necessity, is that of the wretched, a constrained, needy, and disast­rous poverty. Poverty by profession, is that of Re­ligious, professed by their first vow, which is merito­rious and glorious. Poverty of affection, is an expro­priation from the inordinate love of terrene goods.

We speak not here to you (O Noble men) of the poverty of rogues, which is infamous, nor of that of the Religious, which to you would be insupporta­able, and to your condition unsutable; but of the poverty of affection, the practise whereof is necessa­ry for you, if you desire to be Cittizens of Heaven. The practise is,

I. To acknowledge all the goods and possessions Practice of the poverty of affection. you have, are borrowed, which you must infallibly restore, but when, you know not. You live here like birds, who are always hanging in the air, where ei­ther fortune dispoileth, or death moweth the mea­dow, and then it never groweth again. It is a great stupidity of spirit, a great unthankfulness to God, if you account that to be yours which you may dayly lose, and which in the end you shall forgoe for ever. Think not you have any thing yours, but your self. If August. ep. ad Armentar. & Paulinam. Divitiae si di­liguntur, ibi serventur, ubi perire non possunt. Non sublime sapere, & nec sperare in in­certo divitia­rum. 1. Tim. 9. you love riches, put them in a place assured for eternity.

II. If you be not poor, live in riches like the poor. Oftentimes place your self in thought, even in that state you were born in from your mothers womb, or in that state you must return unto in the earth. You then will have no cause to become proud of your riches, when you shall see your self encompassed with false feathers, fastened together with wax, which with the first rayes of the other life will scatter and flie away.

III. Never suffer gold and silver to predomi­nate over you like a King, but hold them under obe­dience like a slave. All these things come from the earth, and are made for the use of an earthly body: What esteem can a Soul make of them, unless she be­come terrestrial? If you regard necessity, you have but very little need of them: if your own sensual appetites, you shall never satisfie them. Leave con­cupiscence, and serve necessity.

IV. Live in such a manner, that if you did know it to be purely and simply the will of God, you should from this day be despoiled of all your wealth, and nothing left you but so much as would suffice to entertain life, you notwithstanding would shew this change to be acceptable to you, saying with holy Job: God hath given it to me, God hath taken it from me, his name be praised. Theodoret makes mention Martyr of poverty. Sames. of a very rich man, a Persian by nation, and a Chri­stian by profession, called Sames, from whom the King of Persia took all his plentiful possessions, de­priving him of gold, silver, garments, stock, reve­nues, and retinue; and not contenting himself with that, gave his wife and house to a servant of this ho­ly man, further enforcing him to serve as a slave to this varlet, most ungrateful and barbarous to his good Master. Behold herein whither humane miseries may arrive. Notwithstanding Sames, a rock of con­stancie, was never a whit shaken, having this maxime well imprinted in his heart, that for accessories, we must never lose the principal.

V. Govern your house in all frugality and mode­sty: Make the expences which you know to be neces­sary and agreeable to your estate, not as a possessour, but as steward, and know you shall be accountable Divitem te sentiant paupe­res. of the poors portion before God. Apprehend not so much the future time, either for your self, or chil­dren, nor afflict your self for present or passed loss. Likewise when you have good success in your affairs, pass over it as a wary Bee over honey, not clamming your wings, according to the notable sentence of S. Augustine in his Epistle to Romanian. Living in August. ad Romani. ep. 113. Non frustrà in nullis copià pennas habet apicula, necti [...] enimhaerentem. this manner, although you have Craesus his wealth, you shall live happily poor. It is said, that a great Pope with all the riches which he had, and dayly di­stributed for supply of needy mankind, was thought to be poorer (and as I may say, more expropriated) than a silly Hermit, who had nothing in his Cell but a Cat, he now being become a Master over his own affections.

The eight and twentieth SECTION. Practice of Justice.

THat which the air is in the elementary world, Necessity of Justice. the sun in the celestial, the soul in the intelli­gible, justice is the same in the civil. It is the air which all afflicted desire to breath; the sun which dispelleth all clouds; the soul which giveth life to all things. The unhappiness is, it is more found on the paper of Writers, than in the manners of the living. To be just, is to be all that which an honest man may be, since justice is to give every on what appertaineth to him.

It's Actions are,

I. To subject within us the body to the soul, and First Justice. the soul to God: For the first actions of injustice are to place passions upon Altars, reason in fetters, and not to search for the Kingdom of heaven, but in the sway of our own private interests.

II. Concerning him who sits in place of magi­stracy, to have an ardent zeal for the maintenance of lawes, to bend all his endeavours, to apply all the forces of his mind and courage to authorize justice, to strengthen his arme against the torrent of iniqui­ties, and to put all his peculiar interests under the discharge of his employments. He must have a great spirit to carry himself in that manner, and especially in a world of corruptions. A good and perfect justi­cer, like unto Job, is a Phenix. Ages as scarcely pro­duce Job. 19. him, and when he dyeth he contristates the whole world. Where shall you find him who can at­tribute to himself this rare commendation couched Justitiâ indu­tus sum, & ve­stivi me sicut vistimento dia­demate, judi­ [...]io meo. Ocu­lus fui caeco & pes claudo: Pa­ter eram pau­perum, contere­ [...]am molas ini­qui, & de den­tibus illius au­ferebam prae­dam. Helmodi Chronicon. Admirable Justice with­out favour. in the books of this worthy man: I am clothed with justice as with a garment; I am adorned with righteous­ness as with a diadem; I have been an eye to the blind, a foot to the lame, a father of the poor, I brake the jaw­bones of the unjust man, & took the prey out of his teeth.

III. Not to know the favour either of parents, friends, flesh, or blood, when there is occasion of do­ing an act of justice, as Canutus King of Denmark did, who after he had examined the process of twelve theeves and condemned them, found one who said, he was extracted of royal blood: It is reason (saith the King) some grace should be done to him, wherefore give him the highest gibet. So the famous Zeleucus to satisfie the law, pulled out one of his own eyes, and the other of his son. So Andronicus Commenus caused publiquely to set one of his favourite on the pillory, and commanded all those who wrought mischief un­der the hope of his favour, either to leave injustice, or life. So the Emperour Justine suffered one of his greatest minions to be apprehended at his own table by the Provost, and thence dragged to execution.

[Page 90] IV. To abhor those who betray justice either for Peremptorium est in principe vel auram ado­rari munerum, vel favorem quaercre perso­narum. Cassiod. Ignis devorabit tabernacul [...] co­rum qui mune­rà accipiunt. Job. 15. Oath of Ma­gistrates un­der Justitian. money, revenge, love, or any other passion as mon­sters of nature, murderers of mankind, to hold them anathematized with the great excommunica­tion of nature. Not to admire their fortune, nor in any sort to participate in their riches, to become a companion in their crimes, holding this undoubted, that the fire of Gods judgement will devour their Tabernacles who practise these corruptions. In the form of an oath exhibited under the Emperour Iust­inian, the Magistrates sware to maintaine Religi­on and justice, according to their power, and in case of corruption they wished upon themselves by way of execration the trembling of Cain, the leaprosy of Gehezi, the lot of Judas, and all that which may astonishman.

V. To have ears always open, and bowels of compassion ready to hear the complaints of wid­dows, orphans, afflicted, and forlorn people, who endure all the torments of the world to break through the press to manifest their miseries. The Emperor Trajan hath done many brave and emi­nent Notable act of Trajan. acts, but none of his atchievements were so re­splendent as the justice he readily afforded to a virtuous widdow. Her son had been slain, and she not being able to obtain justice, had the courage to accost the Emperour in the midst of the Citty of Rome, amongst an infinit number of people and flourishing legions which followed him to the wars he was then going to take in Valachia. At her re­quest Trajan, notwithstanding he was much pressed with the affairs of a most urgent war, alighted from his horse, heard her, comforted her, and did her justice. This afterward was represented on Trajans pillar, as one of his greatest wonders. And it is said, he was highly commended and admired by S. Gre­gory the great.

VI. To doe good and to execute justice with ex­pedition, not stretching the leather with the teeth, as said the good King Lewis the 12. taxing the de­layes, reverences, and neglects of Judges. The Chro­nicle Strange act of Theodorick. Chron. Alex­andrinum. of Alexandria relateth an admirable passage of Theodor. King of the Romans, to whom a widdow named Juvenalis made her complaint, that a suit of hers in Court was drawn at length for the space of three years, which might have been dispatched in few days. The King demanded who were her Judg­es, she named them; they were sent unto and com­manded to give all the speedy expedition that was possible to this womans cause, which they did, and in two days determined it to her good liking. Which done, Theodorick called them again: they supposing it had been to applaud their excellent justice now done, hastned thither full of joy. Being come, the King asked of them: How commeth it to pass you have performed that in two days, which had not been done in three years? They answered: The recommendation of your Majesty made us finish it. How? replieth the King, When I put you into office did I not consign all pleas and proceedings to you, and particularly those of widdows? You deserve death, so to have spun out a business in length three years space, which required but two days dispatch. And at that instant commanded their heads to be cut off. The good Juvenalis was so strucken with admi­ration for such an act, that she came to the King to render thanks, and to offer candles to him as to a holy Saint. And would to God Theodorick had still persevered in such integrity.

VII. Not to be contented with conscience alone, but to have science also, well to examine matters, and to observe the formes of right: Not to cause any body to be punished or tormented by precipitation without sufficient poofs. It is a lamentable thing, when through a desperat hast an innocent is berea­ved of that in a moment, which never can be a­gain restored although he should live an hundred years. But it is to be wickedly unjust, when that is also confirmed by malice and cruelty, which Mad cruelty of Piso. Senec. de ira. lib. 1. c. 16. was begun by mistaking: As happend to Piso, who rashly condemned a poor soldier to death, wrong­fully suspected of the murder of his living compani­on. As the innocent man had now his neck under the sword of his executioner, this camerado of his, supposed to be slain by him, appeared living and in health. The Centurion, who attended the execution, brought them both back again with much con­course of people, to present them to Piso. This furious judge enragedly ashamed of the first sen­tence which he overhastily had given, commanded they should both be put to death, and that also the Centurion should be added to them: One because he was already condemned, although guiltless, an­other because he was thought to be dead, and the third, because he would preserve in the Judge wisedome and innocency. This Barbarian shortly after paid for this fault joyned with many others, by a merveilous turn of Fortune, and a most shame­ful death.

VIII. To be more inclining alwaies to mercy than severity; yet notwithstanding well to take heed, least this mercy degenerate into a softnesse very prejudicial to the maintainance of justice. Also to visit prisons, to see what is fit to be done, and not suffer prisoners to consume in a tedious and irksome misery without true cause of delay.

IX. To extend the hand, that honest men may be maintained, protected, recompenced for services done to the Common-wealth, and Malefactours punished, and used according to their demerits, since reward and punishment (as Democritus said) are the two Divinities of Weals-publike, and the two poles on which the affairs of the world do move.

X. As for the justice of particular men, it is to Justice of par­ticulars. obey Laws and Magistrates, keep peace and concord among their neighbours: To wrong no man in his honour, body, goods, allies, reputation, nor any thing that appertaineth to another, either by word, deed, or by sign.

XI. To be true in words, loyal in promises, faith­ful in proceedings, to handle the affaires which one manageth roundly and freely without dissimulation, deceit, treachery, to avoid usury, and all unjust gain, to pay debts, not to withhold servants or hirelings wages, to be ready to satisfie those whom one hath offended, often to beg of God that in the day of his great Assises we may appear in the robe of Justice, to expect with all confidence the benigne breath of his mercies.

The twentie ninth SECTION. Practise of Gratitude.

ONe Of the noblest acts of justice, is the ac­knowledgement Benoficia pul­veri; si quid mali patimur marmori in­sculpimus A singular saying of Sir Thomas More. Amb. l. 6. Hexan. c. 4. Tolies dog. of a benefit. A virtue very rare in this Age, where (as well Sir Thomas More said) good turns are written in sand, and injuries and revenges on marble. Saint Ambrose assureth us it was not without mystery young Toby took a dog for the companion of his voyage: God would he should learn acknowledgement of benefits in the nature of this creature, the Hierogliph of gratitude.

The acts of acknowledgement, are,

I. Not to deny, dissemble, nor ever to forget a be­nefit, Gratitude of Hebrews. [...] Joseph. Anti. l. 4. but to acknowledge it, retain it, praise, extol it, as the ancient Hebrews did, who set marks on their armes, and ensigns at their gates, for the remembrance and acknowledgement of a benefit received. It is a great shame to be ashamed to owe a benefit, and to avoid the sight of a benefactor, as if his presence up­braided either our ingratitude or disability.

[Page 91] II. To be thankfull, not onely in the presence of the benefactour by some little vain ostentation of ac­knowledgement, but to publish it to others in time and place, and to retain it as it were engraven in a respective memorie.

III. To recompence him according to power, not onely in proportion but superabundantly, which that it may be the better effected, to consider what is given to us, from whom, when, and how. A be­nefit is ever best accepted from a friendly, frank, and free hand, and many times from whom it is least ex­pected, in a pressing necessitie. A benefit from a harsh man, given as it were frowardly, is a stonie loaf of bread, which necessitie enforceth us to take, not free­will. It is no gift, when that is given which can no longer be withheld; as Emanuel the Emperour, who Sordid libera­litie of Ema­nuel Conunus. seeing his full coffers in the hands of the Persians, said to his soldiers: Go take them, I give them to you. It is a negligent and remiss giving, when the extream want of a poor man is expected: As the fountain of Narni, which never distilled its streams Leander in umbrià. but on the eve of a famin. A small courtesie season­ably done deserveth much, and that was the cause why King Agrippa made a poor servitour, named Joseph. lib. 18. antiq. Thou mastus the se­cond man in a kingdom for having given a glass of water. Thaumastus, the second person of his kingdom, for that he had given him a glass of fair water in his great necessitie, when under Tyberius he was tied to a tree before the Palace of the Emperour, and endured a most ardent thirst.

IV. As it is not good to suffer a benefit to wax old, so it is not always expedient to recompence it so readily, as if we bear our obligation with impati­ence, and that we had an opinion this benefit came to us from a hand besmeared with bird-lime, with intention to grasp another. The best way is to let your observances creep into credit, in time and place, with so much the more precaution as they ought to have the less of ostentation.

The thirtieth SECTION. Practice of Charitie.

SAaint Ireneus (as we have said) calleth charitie a Eminentissi­mum charis­matum. S. Iren. l. 4. c. 63 S. Maximus Occonem. cent. 1. 38. Reg. 4. c. 2. Plenitudo legis Charita. Aug. tract. in epist. Joan. Derothem 5. Bibliothec. PP. Doct. 6. most excellent present from heaven, the top and zenith of all virtues, gifts, and favours of God. Saint Maximus saith, it is the gate of the Sanctuarie. which leadeth us aright to the vision of the holy Tri­nitie. It is the double spirit which Elizeus required, wherewith to love God and our neighbour. Be­hold the whole law, behold all perfection. You are not much to afflict your self (saith S. Augustine) to become perfect. Love God, and then do what you will: For if you desire to know whether your love towards God be real and not counterfeit, mark how you love your neighbour. By how much the lines draw nearer one to another, so much the more they approch to the center: By how much the nearer you approch to your neighbour in love, by so much the nearer you are to God.

The Actions of this Royal virtue are, Acts of Cha­ritie.

I. To have an affectionate delight in God, for that he is God, all-wise, all-good, all-powerfull, all-amiable, all-just, all mercifull; the original fountain of all wisdom, goodness, power, beautie, justice, mer­cie. Most heartily to rejoyce that he sitteth in the throne of glorie, as in an abyss of splendour, adored without intermission by all the celestial powers, by all the Saints, by all the exalted Spirits. To desire that all the creatures in the world might adore and serve him, that all understandings were replenished with the knowledge of him, all memories with his benefits, all wills with his love. Such was the affe­ction of that good Fryer Giles, companion to Saint Francis, who was much moved in beholding the beauties of God, and afterwards wept bitterly because, as he said, love was not beloved e­nough. Amor non a­matur.

II. To be sensibly sorrowfull for the impieties, heresies, infidelities, errours, sins, dissolutions, which have covered the face of the earth. To resent the injuries done to God, as one would the rebukes of a good father, of a loving brother, or of some person most tenderly affectionate, as the apple of your eye. It is an admirable thing to see in Scripture a poor Mervelous zeal of a Lady. Princess, daughter in law of Heli, falling in travail upon the news brought her of the taking of the Ark of covenant, and death of her husband and neighbours; for her neither to think of father, bro­ther, husband, no nor the pains of her child-bearing, nor to complain of any thing but of the surprisal of the Ark, and to have dying these words on her lips: Farewel the glory of Israel, since the Ark of God is taken 2. Reg. 4. Translata est gloria de Isra­el, quia capta est Arca Dei. away; what zeal is this in a woman? And now adays one cannot loose a greyhound, a curtal jade, a bird, but all the house is filled with noice and out­cries, whilest for injuries done to God the hearts of men are very insensible.

III. To love all mortal men as creatures made to the image of God, but above all, the faithfull, in the qualitie of persons destined to the sovereign bea­titude: to wish them true blessings, as justification, grace, virtues, spiritual progression, glory. Moreo­ver to desire they may be fortunate in riches, honour, credit, good success in their affairs, if such com­forts may conduce to procure them beatitude.

IV. Never to despise, never to judge rashly, never to interpret other mens actions in an ill sense; but to compassionate their infirmities, bear their burdens, excuse their weaknesses, make up and consolidate the breaches of charitie happened by their fault, to hate imperfections, and ever to love men, yea even your enemies. Therein the touch-stone of true charitie is known. The means to preserve one from his ene­mies, is to pardon enemies, said S. Augustine. One Disce diligere inimicum, si vis cav [...]re ini­micum. Aug. in Ps. 99 of the goodlyest spectacles, able to attract Angels to to the gates of heaven to behold it, is neither Theaters, Amphitheaters, Pyramids, nor Obe­lisks; but a man, who knoweth how to do well and hear ill, and to vindicate himself from ill by doing well.

Cardinal Petrus Damianus relateth, how he being a student at Faenza, one told him of an Act of charitie happened (as I believe) in his time, at the same place, of which he made more account than of all the wonders of the world. It was a man, whose An excellent passage of charitie. eyes another most trayterously had pulled out, and this accident had confined him in a Monasterie, where he lived a pure and unspotted life, yielding all offices of charitie according to the abilitie of his person. It fell out this cruel creature who had done this mischievous act sickened of a languishing maladie, and found himself enforced to be carried to that fame place where he was whom he had be­reaved of sight. His heart said within him, he would never endure him, but for revenge would put out his eyes. On the contrarie, the blind man made earnest suit to do this act of charitie to him withall the most fervent endeavour, as if he had sought some great fortune from the hand of a Prince. Behold he prevailed, he is deputed to the service of the sick man, and he dedicated to him all the functi­ons of his bodie, except the eyes which the other had pulled out. Notwithstanding (saith the Cardinal) he wanted not eyes, having those of supreme charitie and patience. You would say this good blind man was all eyes, all arms, all hands, all heart, to attend this sick man, so much consideration, vigour, diligence, and affection he used. And what should they here say, who upon the least affronts burn with a revenge­full spirit.

[Page 92] V. Not to have a lazie and languishing charity, which is onely in idea, but to be diligent, cordial, strict; not for particular ends, but the taintless max­imes of virtue. It was a great folly in those Philoso­phers called the Contemplators, who placed perfection in sitting with arms a-cross, without doing any act to assist in the society of men. Witness the prime Prince among them, named Pirrho, who beheld the stars whilest his companion Axaquus falling into a ditch cried out for help: They both were found, the one Laert. l. 6. in this misery despairing, and the other contempla­ting. It was said to the Master: What do you here, my friend? Why endeavour you not to draw your compani­on Stupidity of Pirrho. Sine, mediter ut bonus sim. Plin. l. 2. Deus est mor­tali juvare mortalem, & haec ad aeter­nam glorian. out of this ditch? No other answer would he make: Let me alone. I meditate how to become an ho­nest man And behold him a lazy truant, without any further search in giving aid to this misera­ble man. In the whole history of Pliny the best word is this: It is a Divinity for one man to do good to another, and behold the most assured way of eternal glory.

VI. For this purpose you ought to know not one­ly at your finger ends, but to have both in heart and hand the works of mercy spiritual and corporal. You must dispose your selfe with especial endeavour to Almes. alms-deeds. There is the school of rich men, it is their lesson, their philosophy, their heavenly Alchimy, their justification, their salvation, their glory. The practise of almes is not now to be required. It is easily found. There are as many waies of mercy, as there are miseries in mankind, which are every day exposed to our eyes: A thousand fold happy are they who seri­ously bend themselves to comfort such, every one to the proportion of his power. How many brave and noble spirits are industrious in that kind? Some (as the Emperour Titus) thought they had lost a day wherein they had obliged no man. Others daily fed some poor creature, in whom they acknowledged the person of Jesus Christ. Others went up and down into publike streets, to find out the necessities of men, to relieve and consolate them. Others humbled themselves continually to the services of the sick and indigent. Others taught this practise to their little children, almost from the nurces breast; as soon as they began to stutter out words, they were made ora­tours for the poor. Others distributed their revenew in equal portions to Churches, needy persons, and for their own maintenance. Others gave the first fruits of all their increase of profits. Others founded and instituted a thousand excellent works of piety. Be­hold good life herein, fair hope, and generous chari­ty. And is it not to be the scorn and scandal of man­kind Ista verò inju­stitia magna, ut egeat Do­minus & habe­at unde luxu­rietur filius tuus. August. l. de disciplina Christiana. Val. 4. c. 8. to amass riches for worms, for moths, for children many times wicked, drunken, loose Liber­tines, who will play and disport upon their parents tombs? It were a notable inscription if one should put these words upon your monument, which Vale­rius gave to one called Gillias:

QUOD GILLIAS POSSIDEBAT, OMNIUM QUASI COMMUNE PA­TRIMONIUMERAT: HIC IPSIUS LI­BERALITATIS PRAECORDIA HABUIT, ET DOMUS EJUS QUASI QUAEDAM MUNIFICENTIAE OFFICINA. What Gillias had, was the possession of all mankind. This man had his heart and entrals composed even of Charity it self: His house was a shop of bounty.

Of Virtues that oppose the third impurity, which is pride of life. The thirty first SECTION. The practice of humility and magnanimity.

TO say that Noble men and persons of quality have no need of the virtue of humility, is to say that sick men have no need of health. Humility is the element and orb of virtues. It is the gate of Christianity (saith S. Cyprian) and we ought not to Primus Reli­gionis introi­ [...]us. Ciprian. de Nativitate Christi. Humility of great men. M [...]gna virtus est humilitas honorata, think that man will be loyal to faith, who is unfaith­ful to the virtue of Jesus Christ, to wit, humility. It is necessary for all men, but especially great ones, who are more roughly assaulted by the storms of pride: And if this virtue be a contempt of it's own excellency, where shall you find out this excellency to find out the contempt thereof? Shall it be in mean and inferiour spirits? They naturally are in their own way of baseness, but not therefore in the path of humility. The most exact humility is that; which hath more of honour, and less of the sense of honour, saith S. Bernard. The stars are beheld in the bottom of a pit, and profound humility maketh the most radi­ant splendours appear in greatness. The sun dis­pelleth the grossest vapours, and draweth the thinnest and subtile to himself: How much the more you lessen your self, so much the nearer you shall approach to the Sun of true glory. If you desire to practice this celestial virtue, behold the actions.

I. Do not intoxicate your brain with a mad vani­ty Acts. Pride of No­bility repre­henlible. of noble race, which causeth many to dig out and disentomb their Grand-sires, as it were from the ashes of old Troy: and as Ausonius saith, in so care­fully searching out uncertain parents, they many times give occasion to think they have none certain, No­bility is not to be blamed, since it is the happiness of good extraction, but to be vauntingly puffed upon this occasion, is a meer folly He that should revolve and rifle the whole mass of mankind (saith Plato) should find there is no King, which commeth not from servitours, nor servitour who commeth not from Kings.

II. Not to affect, nor seek after humane praises, flattery, complacence, ticklings of reputation, which Names of land. inebriate all shallow brains. Nor through affectation to display a large list of titles and qualities. The time hath been when men named lands; at this day lands denominate men. So many abject villages, boroughs, hamlets, brave it in paper, and set our memories on the rack to name one man, who should rather be na­med and renowned for virtues, which are the inheri­tance of men. Our Ancestours, who raised their ti­tles upon noble actions, were men of heaven: but now when we so passionately seek to acquire names of the earth, we well thereby declare we are men of the earth.

III. When one is arrived by virtue to some for­tune and condition eminent, not at an instant to turn Modesty in its exaltation. Humility of Primistaus and Pope Benedict the 11. his brain as with a voluntary drunkenness, and for­get not only his poor parents but himself also, affect­ing wry-mouths, crabbed looks, disdains, ill coun­tenances, and much exteriour seeming, to blot out the memory of his extraction. The good Primislaus being come from the fortune of a peasant to the So­vereingty of Bohemia, caused his country-cassock and high shoes to be kept in the Church, and yearly represented to him, to renew the memory of his bloud, and thereby cherish his own humility. Pope Be­nedict the eleventh, the son of a silly peasant, his mo­ther being brought unto him in a rich and sumptuous habit, with intention much to please him, turned his eyes away, and said he could not acknowledge this woman for his mother. But she afterwards returning to him in her rustick attire, he acknowledged her, and yeilded all the duties of a good son. Their hearts were deep in humility, & not of these petty spirits, who are ashamed of their beginning, and resemble those beasts, which think they are well hidden if their heads be covered, shewing the rest of their bo­dies.

IV. Neither to make your self Fierabras, nor the Knight of the burning sword in matter of valour. Those who most brave it in words, are found very [Page 93] short in performance. The world is full of Rodo­monts, Rodomonts. who onely are transported with arrogant and sudden furies, as Rabsaces in the Scripture; but few are found truely valourous. When Homer maketh his brave Captains march, he gives them silence for guid. Contrarywise he maketh cowards to babble and chatter like cranes: The one pass along like great rivers, letting their streams glide softly with silent majestie; the other do nothing els but murmur like little brooks; A sign of not being valiant at all, is to strive to seem valiant.

V. To boast the beautie of bodie, is to have a Vanitie of beautie. great defect in the judgement, which is the beautie of the soul. It is verily a desperate vanitie, when a Lady, under the colour that some scribling Rimer hath given her the locks of Aurora, the eyes of Venus, the port of Juno, the feet of Thetis, makes her self the Queen of Antioch, and glorifies her self many times with a beautie meerly imaginarie. Queen Ridiculous pride of Queen Stra­tonica. Stratonica, wife of Seleucus, had not one hair upon her head, yet notwithstanding gave six hundred crowns to a Poet, who had celebrated her in his verse, and sung, that her hair had the tincture of the Marigold. I know not how this soothing flatterer meant it, but this Queen became very proud, which made her so much the more ridiculous. Although this beautie were true, it is but white and vermillion skin distended over a carkase, which covereth many ordures: It is a dung-hill blanched with snow, an Idol of fools, a flower of the field, which hath (as it were) for horizon the instant of its birth. We may Mirabar cele­rem fugitivâ [...]tate ruillam, Et dum na­scuntur, con­senuisse rosas. well give it the epitaph of the Rose:

VI. A much more notorious solly it also is to boast and brave it in apparel, which are plaisters of the scars of sin, to wit, nakedness; borrowed feathers from all kind of birds, unpunished thefts, witnesses of our povertie, which causeth us to beg the assistance of all creatures to cover our shame. What an in­dignitie is it to be desireous to brave it above ones state, qualitie, or port, and to arrive at this height, ofttimes to bear the fat and marrow of the poor in the plaits of garments? Nay these many rapines are not sufficient to entertain this enraged prodigalitie. Debts must grow which cannot be discharged: Silk Habits. must be dragged at your heels, and a Sergeant readie behind you; to shew gold, and hide miserie and sin; to adorn a bodie, as if it were a Temple of Aegypt with all possible splendour, and to lodge within it the soul of a Rat. What infamie is it to behold in a banquet a Roman Lady, called Lollia Paulina, carrie about her in chains, carcanets, and pretious stones, a Plin. l. 9. c. 35. Paulina bare about her a milion of gold. million of gold, and her father, who had dispoiled all the Roman Provinces to cloath this onely daugh­ter, drink afterwards poyson, overwhelmed in the despair of his own affairs? Is not the chamlet coat of the greatest of all our Kings, S. Lewis, is it not of power to confound all Courtiers of both sexes, who having nothing worthy of praise in them, would dignifie themselves with apparel, shewing they have like Peacocks a little head, little brain, beautifull feathers, and a long tail?

VII. Not to be proud for riches, for they are a river which now this day pass along by your lod­ging, and are no more yours than the river of Seyne. Nor to look with a surley face in great fortunes and dignities; for it is a vizard in a Comedie, which must presently be pulled off. Not to value your self Super emi­nence of per­son. highly for a happie memorie; for it is as it were the bellie of the soul, many times filled with much win­diness: nor for wit, for it is often but thin, like the spiders web, fit to catch flies and nothing else: nor for the judgement, for much to confide therein is a dangerous leprousie in the heart of man.

VIII. To measure your self by your own rule, Modestie. to know your own abilitie, not overmuch to pre­sume of your own forces, not to undertake a great burden, and shrink under the weight of it. To speak little of your self, and of all that which is your own, not to overprize, nor deject your self, to do good without speaking of it, to obey the commandments of Superiours faithfully, readily, couragiously, to moderate desires, to love mediocritie in all things, to have a sweet, affable, and respective conversation. Megnanimity

IX. If you be truly humble you will necessarily have the acts of magnanimitie, which are to under­take great things for the honour of God: For there is not any thing so potent as the humble man, who expecteth all his power from heaven. To contemn the promises and menaces of great men, when they request or command you to do any injustice.

X. To drive from you with courage any obstacles, Arist. Eth. 3. which present themselves to divert you from a good work: to make little account of all the states and dignities of the world: To enter into it, stay in it, go out of it, ever with the same countenance. To take honour as a tribute, which you are to put into the coffers of God. To abide continually both in adversitie and prosperitie within your self. To re­compence a benefit liberally, never to detract, to praise sparingly, beg seldom, admire nothing lightly, nor complain of any man. To hold rank among great men without vanitie, and to humble your self to inferiours through charitie. Not to undertake many things, but perform brave things. To hate flatterie as a plague, hypocrisie as a poyson, compla­cence as a mockerie. To do and speak freely, what is reasonable. Not to remember injuries. To aym rather at true honour than profit.

The thirty second SECTION. Practice of Patience.

BEhold that which setteth a seal upon all vir­tues, Praise of Pa­tience. patience, ever the first in the list and last in the triumph. It is the crowned pomegranate which hangeth among bels in the lowest border of A notable observation upon the ha­bit of the High Priest. the high Priests robe of the old Law. It was a goodly thing to carrie all the world on his habit, all was imperfect without the crown of patience; she it is which hath the bell, to teach us, that all virtues are very excellent, but it belongeth not to them to pro­claim victorie without patience and perseverance. Other virtues are as those ancient Painters, who subscribed at the foot of their table, He painted, he made: but patience may affix, I have made, I have perfected, since it giveth full accomplishment. It is the school of Christianitie. So learned are we (saith S. Ambrose) as we have patience: so much do we parti­cipate Ambr. super Proverb. Tantò quisque minùs ostendi­tur doctus, quantò minùs [...]stenditur pa­tiens. Vita PP. with God as we can suffer by his example. He hath taken a bodie to be able to suffer, and to make himself altogether the mirrour of sufferers, and the re­ward of those who have patiently endured. If we suffer not to imitate him, our soul is no longer ours: For it is the word of the Son of God, that we possess not this soul but by the means of patience. If we leave it, we loose all. For the practice of this virtue, I require not you should be a Saint Macarius, who for having kil­led Patience of S. Macarius. a gnat which stung him, went (as if he had com­mitted a great act of impatience) for the space of six moneths, exposing his naked bodie to all the flies, gnats, and wasps of the wilderness, to be revenged on himself. This patience is not for your purpose, learn one more easie.

I. That you a little bear with your self. All fol­lie Patience of [...]reat men, what. hath this propertie with it, that it is perpetually in disturbances, ever wearie of the present, and with open mouth gaping for the future. It leapeth like Acts. quick-silver, it boundeth and skippeth from thought to thought, from purpose to purpose, from place [Page 94] to place, as the Stag from the hillock to the moun­tain, from the mountain to the hillock. And all that proceedeth from impatience of heart.

Take for the first act of patience to reclaim your First patience to endure ones self. self within your self, not to be still upon change, to rest with firm footing in the conditions, professions, employments, recreations, in which through duty you are engaged.

II. To spare men as saith the Emperour Anto­nius) To spare men and endure men. and suffer men. You would have men speak, laugh, go, and spit, even after your fashion, that is the way to please you. Superiours molest you, equals trouble you, inferiours can do nothing to content your appetite, the noise of a door, the wind of a window, a glass broken, a mess of broth over-salted, a flie in the kitchin negligently driven away by a servant makes you enraged. You have more disturb­ances than the winding Euripus hath waves. This proceedeth from the great weakness of your under­standing, effeminacie of flesh, tenderness of educati­on, custom of curiositie, sickness, and giddiness of spirit. If you do not seasonably prevent the mischief and daily accustom your self to tollerate some incon­venience with sweetness and patience, you will be­come a monster in conversation, insupportable to all, and in conclusion troublesome to your self. What an indignitie is it, that a man full of rebellions against God, should desire that men and beasts serve him according to all his humours? Some slight fellow will be so observed in puncto, and a thousand and a thousand Kings have endured a million of indiscre­tions of their servants with patience. Is it not said that Philip the second, King of Spain, having written a letter with his own hand, with much studie and labour, to be sent to the Pope, when he asked for sand to cast upon it, his Secretarie half asleep poured the ink in the standish upon it? This would have put you into a furie, and yet behold a man of this emi­nencie bare it without speaking one angrie word to his servant.

III. From hence you shall learn to suffer ca­lumnies Calumnies. and slanderous words, not raising a storm in your mind about the interpretation of a doubtfull word, not to frame differences about the leg of a flie. Not to be amazed at forged imputations, which trench even upon the Diadems of Kings and Miters of Popes. The buckler wherewith you must resist them is contempt and innocencie. It is said, the Ba­silisk desirous to infect a looking-glasse killeth him­self by repercussion of vapours which proceed from his own bodie, and the calumniator doth the like, when he meeteth with a pure unspotted life: It is a smooth glass, which slayeth him with his proper arms. Speak onely these royal words of David, a 1. Reg. 36. Patience of David. Si Dominus incitat adver­sum me, odore­tur Sacrifici­um meum. King and Prophet: My God, if thou suffer this perse­cution against me, at the least I beg the sacrifice of my patience may ascend to thy Altar in the odour of sweet­ness. S. Ambrose, as I have demonstrated before, hath observed, that this great man was so disposed to pati­ence, that being persecuted by his son Absolom, and at the same time furiously pursued with the foul slanders of Shimei, he took the clamorous tongue of this de­tractour, Verborum con­tumelia pari­cidia levavit aerumnam. to make as it were an Antidote of it, and apply it to the sorrow he received from the parricide of an unnatural son.

IV. Patiently to endure a maladie: It is a hard Maladie. matter in vehement pains, but that some outcries and exclamations escape nature. I know not what heart that Gentleman had of whom the table of constan­cie speaketh, who played on a lute when his leg was cut off with biting saws and burning cauteries, with­out breathing forth one sillie sigh. That is not exact­ed of you, but that you use some moderation, and above all you have a soul resigned, principally in do­lours and small maladies, which give you leisure enough to re-enter into your self.

V. Finally to swim in a strong stream, you must Heroick acts of patience. fortifie your self, against all humane accidents, as are the hurly-burlies of fortune, (which in a moment thrust a man down to the bottom of the wheel) ba­nishments, imprisonments, shipwracks, loss of goods, infamous accusations even of innocency it self, crimes, calamities, death of friends, neer kindred, fathers, mothers, brothers, children, and all that which hath sadness and horrour in nature. Out a­las! what lightenings, thunders, tempests on all sides? What traps, what snares? O man (miserable crea­ture) drenched in the water of thy tears, which are more familiar to thee than the sea and rivers to fishes; where wilt thou save thy self, if thou put not thy self Patience the Sanctuary of mortals. under the shelter of patience? All is replenished with miseries, and to be desirous of exemption is a petty apostacie in nature. Tribulation is the Kings high-way, beaten and tracked with the sacred steps of thy Master, and with a countless number of Saints, who all of them have made their afflictions the degrees of their glory. Behold thy Jesus, he is the brazen serpent, planted in the wilderness of this world, which healeth all the bitings of our impati­ence. Behold patience, it is the salt of the Prophet E­lizaeus, which purifieth the polluted waters, and sweetneth all the bitterness of life.

The thirty third SECTION. Practice of dayly actions.

ALl our virtues are included in our actions, and our actions in the hours, the hours in the Every day a table of life. day, and the day in the moneth, the moneth in the year, and the years in the Ages. Every day is Means of per­fection a brief table of our life, and the means to make ones self perfect quickly, is to perform all our daily actions with mature consideration and perfection. Behold a portraict, the lineaments whereof I have taken from a man endowed with great wisdom, religion, and in-integrity, whom I would willingly name, did I not fear to offend his humility, able to endure any thing but his own praises.

I. It is a long time since the sun for your benefit hath dispersed the shadows of the night, that you may rejoyce at the sight of the great spectacle of the works of God; and yet your curtains are still shut to entertain you in the duskie image of death. Get out Motive to pass the day well. of your bed, and think this goodly star, which maketh you begin the carreer of this day, will this day run more than ten or twelve millions of leagues. And you, how many steps (I pray) will you set forward to draw neer to virtue? This indefatigable har­binger is gone forth to score you out the lodging of a tomb, so many minutes are so many points deduct­ed of our life. Will not you follow the counsel of the Son of God, and do well whilst it is day? A great night will speedily involve you under it's wings, wherein you shall no more have further means to travel.

II. Take every day as a day in harvest. Take it as Day pretious. a day of a fare, or mart; take it as a day wherein you are to labour in the mines of gold; take it as a ring, which you must engrave, adorn, and embellish with your actions, to be in the evening offered up at the Al­tar of God.

III. Represent unto your self a notable consideration of S. Bernard, that your actions pass, as not passing: For every good work you do, is a grain of seed for life eternal. Say as did Xeuxes that painter so renown­ed. To paint for eternity. Aeternitate pingo, I paint for eternity.

IV. Follow the counsel of S. Thomas. Do every Counsel of S. Thomas, action in the virtue of Jesus Christ, desiring to have [Page 95] all the good intentions and affections of the Church militant and triumphant: Do it as if thereon de­pended S. Thom. de moribus divi­nis. the praise of God, the good of the whole world, all your happiness, and as if it were to set a seal on all your works.

V. Begin from the evening the purpose of good To provide on the even­ing for the day to come. works which you are to perform the next day, what points you ought to meditate on, what vice you should resist, what virtue exercise, what affairs you are to handle, to make all appear in its proper time with a well matured providence. It is the thread of Ariadne, which guideth our actions in the great la­byrinth of time, otherwise all runneth to confusion.

VI. Have so much curiositie in you, as sometime Diligence in the morning. to know of what colour the day-break of morning is, outstrip the steps of light, according to the coun­sel of the Wiseman, to praise God. Take good heed lest you imitate that hog Epicurus, who boasted he had waxed old without ever beholding the sun rising or setting. It is a good custome to rise in the morning, but very difficult to perswade women so, and all the Antipodes of nature, who change day into night, and night into day. That famous Apol­lonius held in his time for an Oracle of the world, coming very early in the morning to Vespasian's gate, and finding him awake, conjectured thereupon that he was worthy to command an Empire, and said to one who accompanied him: Undoubtedly this man [...]. will be Emperour, seeing he is so early a stirrer.

VII. All that which you are to dispose the day Three parts of the day. unto, is divided into three parts, Devotion, Business, Recreation. Devotion must carrie the torch and open the door to all our actions.

VIII. Make account at your first awaking to Awaking. give all the first fruits of your faculties, senses, and functions to the divine Majestie. Let the memorie presently put it self in mind, that it ought to do the work of God. Let the understanding cast a consi­deration upon its Creatour, like a flash of lightning. Let the will be enkindled with his love. Let the heart shoot forth some fiery shafts, some desires and some affections wholy celestial. Let the mouth and tongue endeavour to pronounce some vocal prayer to the most Holy Trinitie. Let the hands figure on the forehead and breast the sign of the Cross, since they are lifted up to heaven. Let the arms and feet shake off the sluggishness of sleep, as S. Peter did the chaines at the voice of the Angel. Behold a good beginning, how to offer ones self to God. The hair was pulled from the victim, and put into the fire before it was sacrificed; so must you draw away at your awaking those slight­eractions, to give beginning to your Sacrifice.

IX. This action should serve as a preparative to another more long and serious devotion, which you are to make in your closet, when first you come out of your bed. If you have so gorgeous garments to put on, that necessarily you must bestow some nota­ble time to dress you, it is a miserable servitude. Observe you not it should be done to render your tribute to God? Then cloath your self indiffer­ently, Exercise of the morning. as much as shall be necessary for comlyness and health. Afterward with bowed knees use five things, Adoration, Thanksgiving, Oblation, Contrition Five things to be practi­sed. and Petition.

Adoration, in adoring God prostrated on the earth, resounding like a little string of the worlds great harp, and offering to the Creatour this whole universe as a votive-table hanged upon his Altar, wholly resigning your self to his will. For this act, it is very expedient to use the Hymn of the three children in the fornace, who called all creatures as by a check-roul, to the praises of God.

Thanksgiving for all benefits in general, and parti­cularly for that you have happily passed over this night. The Church furnisheth us with an excellent form of thanksgiving in the Hymn Te Deum lau­damus.

Oblation, of your faculties, sences, functions, thoughts, words, works, and of all that you are, re­membering the sentence of S. John Chrysostom, That the worst avarice is to defraud God of the oblation of your self. Offer to God the Father your memorie, to replenish it with profitable and good things, as a vessel of election; to the Son your understanding, to enlighten it with eternal verities; to the Holy Ghost your will, to heat it with his holy ardours: Consign your bodie to the Blessed virgin, to preserve it under the seal of puritie.

Contrition in general for all sins, and particularly for some vices and imperfections which most sur­charge you, with a firm purpose to make war a­gainst them, and extirpate them with Gods assistance.

Petition, not to offend God mortally, nor to fail with grace, light, and courage to resist those sins to which you are most inclined. To practice those virtues which are most necessarie for you. To be guided and governed this very day by the providence of God in all that may concern the weal of your soul, bodie, and things external. To participate in all the good works which shall be done in the Christian world. To obtain new graces and suc­cours for the necessities of your neighbours, whom you then may represent, and this by the intercession of Saints, wherewith your prayer should be sea­soned. Spiritual lesson. It is then to very good purpose to spend some quarter of an hour at the least in reading some spiritual book, imagining it as a letter sent from God to you, for direction of your actions.

X. When you put on your apparel, to acknow­ledge Cloathing. your great servitude, so to serve with much industry the most abject and brutish part of man. To think you garnish a body, which even this very day may be a putrified rotten­ness. What time and diligence had Jesabel used in the last day of her life to adorn and deck a body, that was trampled under the feet of horses, and gnawn by dogs some few hours after?

Masse must be heard at a due hour, in the manner Masse. before related, and that is a most especial act of de­votion.

XI. The second employment of the day, is in Affairs. the affairs which one mannageth, whether it be for the publick or for your own particular, in the go­vernment of your familie, or discharge of some office. A good business is a good devotion, and nothing is so much to be feared as idleness, which is a very ant­heap of sins. He who taketh pains (said the ancient Fathers of the desert) is tempted but by one devil; he that is idle, by them all. There is no person so noble or eminent, that ought not to find out some employ­ment. If iron had the reason of understanding, it would tell you, it better loved to be used by much exercise, than to rust and consume in the corner of a house.

XII. In the practise of charges, offices, affairs, to use knowledge, conscience, dexteritie, diligence. Know­ledge in learning that which is profitable to be known, for the discharge of dutie, in informing ones self of that which cannot be guessed at, in hearing counsel, examining and weighing it with mature deliberation. Conscience, in administering all things with integritie according to laws both divine and humane. Dexteritie, in doing all things discreetly, peaceably, with more fruit than noyce. In such manner that one shew not anxietie in affairs, but like that Prince of whom in ancient time one said, That in the most busie occupation he seemed ever to have the greatest vacation. Diligence, observing occasions well, and performing every thing in time and place,

He that hath never so little spirit and good dispo­sition, shall always find wherein to employ himself, [Page 96] principally in the works of mercy both spiritual and temporal, amongst so many objects of our neigh­bours miseries.

XIII. Time of repast, recreations, sports, and visits Recreation. should be very regular, for fear nature be not dissol­ved in a lazy and bestial life, greatly unworthy of a noble heart. Away with gluttony, play, detraction, curiosity, scoffing, babling. Let the conversation be as a file, to smooth and cleanse the spirit, and ever to adapt it to its proper functions.

XIIII. One should not in affairs, recreations, re­tirements, omit at some times to elevate his heart to God by jaculatory prayers. Happy are they, who Elevation of heart to God in every hour of the day do make unperceivably some litle retrait in their hearts, casting their eye like a lightning-flash upon the hour past, and fore­seeing the direction of the next. Above all, after dinner it is fit to reenter into ones self, and to see the good order which hath been given for the exe­cution of the mornings good purposes.

XV. In the evening before you go to bed, you Evening. are to use examen of conscience, Lytanies, and other vocal prayers, with the preparation of the meditati­on of the next day; happily to shut up the day with acts of contrition, faith, hope, charity, prayers for the living and dead. Thereupon settle your self to sleep with some good thought, to the end according to the Prophet, your night may be lightned with the beauties of God. If any interruption of sleep happen, mark it out with jaculatory prayers and ele­vations of heart, as anciently the Just did, who for this cause were called the crickets of the night. This doing, you shall lead a life replenished with honour, repose, satisfaction towards your self, and shall each day advance one step forward to eternity.

The marks which amongst others, may give you a good hope of your predestination are princi­pally twelve. First. A lively, simple, and firm faith. 2. Purity of heart, which ordinarily is free from grievous sins. 3. Tribulation. 4. Clemency and mercy. 5. Poverty of spirit disengaged from earth. 6. Humility. 7. Charity towards your neighbour. 8. Frequentation of the Sacraments of Confession and Communion. 9. Love to the word of God. 10. Re­signation of spirit to the will of your Soveraign Maister. 11. Some remarkeable Act of vertue excer­cized by you upon occasion offered. 12. Devotion to our Blessed Lady: In honour of whom you shall do well to observe daily three things. First, to present unto her an oblation every hour of the day of the Angelical salutation, when at the striking of the clock you recal your heart to your self. Secondly, to ex­cercise some mortification of mind or body, by some motive of the imitation of her vertues. Thirdly, to give alms to her honour either spiritual or temporal.

This have I enlarged in a litle manual called THE CHRISTIAN DIVRNAL.

Instructions for the Married. The thirty fourth. SECTION. Of the misery of ill governed marriages, and to whom we may impute it.

THE great evils in ill managed marriages, made S. Gregory Nyssen and S. Iohn Damascene say, Nyss. lib. de hom. cap. 18. Damasc. l. 2. de fide ortho. c. 30. wedlock had not been invented, but to serve as a remedy for the wound of concupiscence, and that if the first Authours of mankind had remay­ned in original justice, the world would have been multiplied in a manner wholy Angelical, ra­ther than by the ordinary ways of marriage. Not­withstanding S. Augustine and S. Thomas, who diligently looked into it, assure us marriage was treated in the state of innocency by natural ways, since Eve was created before sin, and given to man to serue as a companion for him in the worlds propagation. But if the divine providence would have pleased to have made choyse of other means for this increase, he had created millions of men in the beginning of the world, like unto Angels, and not one man alone, nor one sole woman, who were set in the front of all Nations of purpose to produce them with that progress of time and succession we therein observe. I pronounce, marriage had been without the ardours and disturbances of concu­piscence, the paines of child-bearing, disloyalty, riots and discontent: but rather entertained with a ten­der love of the man towards the woman, and a perfect obedience of the wife towards the husband, with a sweet education of children, free from po­verty, loss, and all sorts of troubles. Christian Reli­gion endeavoureth to recal wedlock to the purity of the first institution, whilst good liking accordeth with the commandments of God, and the immuta­ble laws of eternal Justice.

There is a most remarkable thing written of the Peach-tree, that in Persia, which was the first and onely place heretofore of its growth, it was ve­noumous and mortal, but being carried and trans­ported into other countreys, as Aegypt, Greece, Italie, France, it wholy changed nature, and loosing with the country its malignity, bare, and to this day beareth fruits rellished with muth tastfulness. The like is marriage, a strange plant if you leave it in its Province, that is to say within the limits of nature, extreamly passionat, and irregular; beware of poyson and death: but if you transplant it into the Evan­gelical Law, and manure it with order, continency, and that restriction which the law of God dicta­teth to you, you shall derive delectation and profit from it, for the solace and ornament of humane life. Nay we must affirm, the exorbitancies which now raign in the world, and which draw so many miseries along with them, make married people very often feel most harsh conditions, and to render marriage a soyle as natural for cares, as it is barren for roses and violets.

Marriage now adays throughout the greatest part of the world is a poesy of thorns, we know not whereto lay hold of it, on what side soever it be touched it pricks the fingers. Marriage is the ivy of Jonah, exteriourly verdant with some apparance of cheerfulness and delight, but the worm of grief and anxiety gnaws the root within Marriage is the plant which the Indians call the thorny bod­kin: it is all over sprinkled with stars, and the rayes of these stars are nothing els but prickles: Maydens take heed, one may think to gather a star, who shall find a sharp thorn.

Marriage is the balm of Arabia, whereunto little vipers hasten to make their nests: such an one sees the leaf and sents the good odour, who perceives not the little serpents of a thousand disturbances which lie hidden there-under.

Marriage is the island of dreams of which the Ancients speak, where a thousand griefs are pre­sented, covered at first with the veil of pleasure; you would swear they were little Cupids, who say, Come to me young man, come to me, come hither Nescis quia Is­mael est qui tecum ludit. fair maid, come hither. They are entertained, they are courted, in an instant they take off the mantle, and appear as they are, with ugly counte­nances and horrid shapes. Marriage is a stormy sea, where nothing is to be seen but ruins, tempests, and shipwracks; one cries mercy, and another help, save if it be possible; and there are very few who arrive at the haven without infinit hazard.

Marriage is a long pilgrimage, which finds but three hosteries: The first is called false pleasure, the second repentance, the third calamity, and if you go any farther, you shall meet with despair.

The first difficulty there encountered, is, that of a free-man you become a bond-slave, and the sweet liberty which nature impressed on the heart of all living creatures, is the first trophey you must hang up over the bridal bed: The wife (saith the Apo­stle Mulier sui corporis pote­statem non ha­bet, sed vir: similitèr vir sui corporis po­testatem non habet, sed mu­lier. 1 Cor. 7.) hath no power over her own body; that juris­diction is reserved to the husband: nor can the hus­band reciprocally dispose of his own body, for it is in the power of the wife.

Nay did she know into whose hands she consign­ed this precious treasure, it would be some com­fort to say thus much at the least. If I be a slave, I will choose a good Master. But thou silly maid, who hast been so tenderly bred, and hatched up under the wings of thy parents as a chaste dove, art put into the hands of a husband, as into the tallons of a faul­con. When he wooed thee as a suitor, he made shew of much mildness, he was a lamb, nay rather a wolf in a sheep-skin. No sooner was marriage consum­mate, but the mask was taken off, he shewed what he was, a gamester, a man chollerick, base, barbarous and tyrannical, that held this wretched dove in his blou­dy claws, making her hourly vapour out her life through the sighs of her sorrows. Young man, who as yet art not fettered in the bands of marriage, thou makest love to a maid with infinite services, and for that purpose thou learnest to dance the cinque­apace, thou clothest thy self in silk, and cuttest thy beard in fashion, thou dost crisp and comb thee, thou dost court thy hair, and knowest not thou seek­est for a Master. Thou thinkest thou hast found a precious stone, but thou meetest with a counterfeit: Thou thinkest she is a lamb, but she proves a wolf, yea a serpent which beareth fire and flames: thou must take her at adventure, and such as she is must keep her. Oxen and asses are tryed before they be Nulla uxoris electio, sed qualiscumque venerit ha­benda. Hierom. con­tra Jovin. bought (sayes Saint Hierom) but wives are taken without notice of their humour and deport­ment.

Nay, which is worse, this poor maid with huge sums purchaseth her slavery. Fathers and Mothers have sweat hard for the space of twenty or thirty years, to amass a portion: Behold they have attired, decked, and adorned her like a temple, and she is led out with the sound of violins, as to the galley, and many times thrown into the arms of a husband who wasteth all. And the young man to become a slave, makes a thousand journeys, offereth a thou­sand supplications, a thousand thanksgivings, and as many salutations: Ah poor creatures, if you be weary of your liberty, are there no prisons, caverns, nor chains more pleasing?

Galley-slaves who toil at the oar, hope after five years, after ten years, or some term prescri­bed them, to be discharged from bondage. The ill married are enforced to expect death for free­dom from their fetters; and there is not any Dei­tie to which they offer more vows and candles than to death, which is notwithstanding the terrible of terribles.

I give you leave to think, when two contrarie humours meet, as fire and water, a holy man with a spitefull and an immodest wife, or a no­ble spouse with a wicked husband, what an af­fliction it is. Saint Augustine relates that certain thieves, cruel and bloudy, to torture captives re­solved on an execrable barbarism, which was, to joyn and straightly tie a live body with a dead, and so let the poor patient expire amongst ordures and insupportable stenches. It is the very like, when a holy and pious wife meets with a husband im­pious, wicked, and unnatural: she alive by grace and virtue is joyned to a rotten carrion, which in­tollerably tormenteth her, and if she in such occa­sions exercise patience, she gains so many crowns as there be hours in every day.

Let us pass further, and not here conceal some Raram facit mixturam cum sapientiâ for­ma, & nihil est tutū in quo to­tius populivota suspirant. Mo­lestuni est possi­dere quod nul­lus habere vel amare digna­tur. Pauperem alere difficile est, divitem ferre tormen­tum. Mulier cum parit tri­stitiam habet. roses of marriage mingled among thorns. If beau­ty be therein, jealousie doth easily slide into it; and doubtless it is more aimed at, and is more subject to be surprized by temptations: If there be deformity, it much altereth the band of affe­ctions. If there be riches, and ample fortunes, they are exposed to much embroylment, great travel, and infinite peril; for the strokes of thun­der ruine not any thing so often, as the tops of high steeples: If there be povertie, it is a misery intolle­rable. Are there children? wives, you know how dear they cost you. They who are tortured on the rack, suffer nothing in comparison of a poor crea­ture, who is constrained to be delivered of her fruit by a travel extraordinary, hydeous, painfull, and oftentimes in seeking to give life to another, she there leaves her own. This sometime happen­eth, because those children come into the world la­den with benefices, mitres, and croziers. Abuse precedes birth; they are fathers before they are chil­dren: It is not yet known whether they be males or females, and all the world sees they already are char­ged with ecclesiastical livings. Mothers, you still bear them in your entrails; their fortunes, their ac­cidents, their maladies, their deaths, through a re­flection of nature imprint on your hearts all their passions, all their disasters; you are transfixed with as many martyrdoms as evils happen to your chil­dren; nay, should all succeed prosperously and ac­cording to the course of nature, yet must you a se­cond time produce them to honours, estates, and fortunes. This pain perpetually ties you to the rack: To have them upon your hand, and not wherewith to provide for them, is a very sensible sorrow, yet richly to endow them is to give them where withal to enkindle their lust, entertain disobedience, and cherish vice. You think after your travels they will afford you the like, who oftentimes prove lewd, un­gratefull, and malicious wretches, that waste the wealth you amassed for them, as it were on your tombs. Behold the slender scantling of the toyls and perplexities of marriage, drawn from the Do­ctrine of holy Fathers. I wonder not at all, those an­cients in the ceremonies of marriage carried before the bride a torch made of black thorn, and never of any other wood; to testifie wedlock was reple­nished with difficulties very thorny. Nor shall I any more admire their custom, who in like manner cau­sed the new wife to touch fire and water. For to say truly, she passeth through the boyling ardours of many dolours, through the waters of infinite ma­ny afflictions, and may repeat that versicle when she hath met with some ease: I have passed through Psal. 65. 12. Ecce transivi­mus per ignem & aquam, & eduxisti not in refrigerium. fire and water, and thou hast set me in repose and comfort.

Now, it is not sufficient to have expressed the inconveniences of marriage, if we also declare not the causes and remedies thereof: and this (Rea­der) is the reason, why I desire you to proceed in your attention. Men who will always conclude to their own advantage, speaking of this matter, cast all upon women, and ordinarily affirm we must not ask from whence the evils of marriage come, it is enough to say one cannot be married without a wife, and that woman is the source and seminary of all the miseries and disasters which happen in this affair.

Behold a very slippery place, what shall we an­swer? It seems that generally to condemn women, [Page 98] were to produce more testimonies of passion than marks of judgement. They are the mothers of men by nature, nurses by charity, and as it were hand-maids by patience. It is the devout sex, the sex of compassion and pitie. They daily do many good things, they succour the necessities of the poor, they visit hospitals, prisons, the sick; they replenish Churches, and edifie families with examples of pie­tie; and can you then speak ill of them? Not­withstanding, as we are not to flatter them, so it is un­doubted that those who have once resigned thēselves to evil, and become libertines in sin, are the cause of many ills, and practice much frailty in their sex, and cunning in their behaviour, to disturb families and the affairs of the world, if not guided by virtue. If we now will consult with the Ancients both Greek and Latine, they will tell us wonders; but let us hearken to Holy Scripture and Fathers. First Immisit Deus soporem in A­dam, cumquè obdormivisset, tulit unam de costis ejus, & replevit car­nem pro eá, & aedificavit De­us costam quam tulerat in mu­lierem. Adam particeps An­gelicae curiae intravit in sanctuarium Dei. August. l. 9. de Genes. ad lit. [...] Aquila. [...]. Symach. [...]. Tertul. Acci­dentium spi­ritus. in Genesis chap. 2. where the creation of woman is declared, it is said, that God caused a profound sleep to steal upon Adam, and that being asleep he drew woman out of his side. These words are very considerable. What meaneth it that God before he made woman, caused sleep to steal into the eyes of Adam? I will not here tell you, that some have glos­sed, that he could not have admitted this produ­ction of woman in any other manner: but I affirm with the Septuaginta, this sleep was an extasie, with Saint Augustine that it was a repture, and with o­thers a trance of spirit: For he then had need e­nough to fortifie himself with consideration, since woman came into the world, who would bid him many battels. Poor Adam fell into an apoplexy, in­to a convulsion, into swooning fits, as already feeling the cross thwartings, passions, and afflictions, he should receive from woman.

Moreover who can but admire the phrase, which the Scripture useth in this creation, where it is said woman was built. Good God! what meaneth this? thou already hadst erected so many goodly buildings, Heaven and earth, the high and low sta­tions of the world, thou hadst created Adam with a plentiful concurrence of many parts, and yet the Scripture saith not, thou then didst build, but when woman was to be created, God built, God made his first piece of architecture. And why? It is because woman is a house, wherein the heart of man should inhabit, who is, alas! there but too often captive? Or is it, that a woman costs as much in making, as a fair house? To build a house you must have so much sand, lime, stone, timber, iron-work, manufa­ctures hands, strokes of hammers, masons, carpen­ters; and to dress and attire a woman so many coiffs, kerchiefs, cawls; so many false hairs, paintings, gowns, petticotes, chopins, verdingals, whalebones; so many carcanets, gold chains, jewels, gemmes, attendants, that a house were almost as soon built, as a woman furnished.

What doth she when she is built? Saint Augustine saith, she becomes the scholler of a serpent, the gate of sin, the fountain of errour, and the rust of pie­tie? Good God! what unhappiness is this? If from the side of man a flaming dart or keen sword had been drawn, they would have done less hurt than an evil woman; which I speak without prejudice of the virtuous. The first woman ungrateful towards God, a traiteress to her husband, a murderess of her race, made a bridge for Satan to pass into the world, and needs would lodge him in her heart, whom God had confined to the deep pit of hell.

Others, who have prostituted themselves to evil for these five thousand sixe hundred and thirtie years that the world hath circumvolved, have acted upon this large Theatre of many forms, so many bloudy tragedies, that they make histories to blush thereat. The daughters of Loth, the Tha­mars, Athaliaes, Jezabels, Vasties, Helenaes, Frede­gondaes approve it, and their ashes also incessantly produce others into the world, Work-mistresses of all mischief.

Alas Mothers! instruct your daughters well whilst they are young, breed them up in the fear of God, frame them to duty, imprint on their tender hearts as with a searing-iron, the love of chastity, modesty in their behaviour, and devotion in their souls.

And you young men, who suffer your selves to be cheated and deceived by impudent women, permit­ting them to bewitch you with love-drinks and wicked attractives, open your eyes and behold the precipice before you, and then I doubt not you will abhor it. Trust not their familiar conversation Efficacissimum est glutinum ad capiendas animas mulie­ris. August. and dalliances; know they are full of danger, and that there is not any can resist them without the par­ticular grace of God. Strength little availeth; the Sampsons sunk to the ground: Wisdom is to seek; the Solomons fell: Valour therein is short; the Davids found it: Sanctity is not free from their batteries, the Elishaes were persecuted by women, and the John Baptists therein lost their heads: That venerable face, those eyes enflamed with heavenly rays, which won reverence from the wild beasts of the desert, could not mollifie a female dancer. That wise head where the maxims of eminent virtues resided, was taken from the shoulders of a Saint, carried in a dish to a banquet by the sacrilegious hands of a shameless woman: That tongue from whence distilled a stream of honey, was pricked and pierced with a bodkin wherewith the wretch used to curle her hair. Now according to the counsel of Saint Chrysostom, take into your hands this bloudy head, ask of it, O head which should never die, who hath drenched thee in­to the wanness of death? Who hath bathed thee in this bloud? Who hath put out thine eyes, the tor­ches of the elect, and thunder-strokes of the wick­ed? Who hath layed an eternal silence on that tongue, which first of all announced the Kingdom of Heaven? The love of women. Lyons and Tigers reverenced me in wildernesses, and women massa­cred me in a Kings Palace, women mingled my bloud with wine, and made me as a pompous morsel of their tragical banquets.

When I say this, I not onely accuse women, but carnal men, who suffer themselves to be allured and surprized with sottish love, and trampling under foot the honour of God, the presence of Heaven and An­gels, the conjugal bed, and faith promised to their wives, wallow themselves in execrable adulteries, which fill families with opprobrie, confusion, and tragedies; why say I families? nay, Kingdomes and Empires: and if we will well examine it, we shall find the greatest part were turned topsie-turvie by foolish love.

O you that sigh, hearing speech of the furious disorders this unhappy sin brings into the world, I beseech you with Saint Paul, by the very bowels of our Lords mercy, offer your bodies to God as an hoast lively, holy, and acceptable to the Divinity; and you especially who are in the state of marriage, entertain your beds honourable and chaste, cemen­ted with a perpetual knot of faith, love, and peace, that God may please thereon perpetually to shower down from on high his holy benedictions, and after the course of this painful life, crown you with com­forts in the glory of the Blessed.

The thirty fifth SECTION. That the evils of marriage ought not to be imputed to sex, but sin; and of the disorders committed in this Sacrament.

IF the unhappiness of marriages proceeded one­ly from women, we might necessarily conclude they were alwayes unfortunate, as never being without a woman; but since experience daily teacheth there are of them excellently governed, we must not impute to the condition of sex that which pro­ceeds from the vice of depraved nature. Though the Scripture condemn evil women, yet it bestoweth so great elogies on the virtuous, that they are able to dazle calumny, and enlighten virtue. One while wo­man is called, A Lamp which shineth on a holy candle­stick: Lucerna splen­dens super candelabrum sanctum. Eccles. 26. Erat lucerna ardens & lu­cens. Joan. 5. 55. a title onely given to persons eminent, as it was said of Saint John Baptist, He was a burning and resplendent lamp. The body of this Lamp is the rib created by the hand of a great Work-man, the soul is the fire of it, virtue the light, grace the oyl, devo­tion the match and nourishment, and marriage the holy candlestick whereinto it is put. Another while, she is called a Sun: As a Sun (said the Wise-man) ri­sing in the world from the palace of God. Whereby he Sicut sol ori­ens mundo in altissimis Dei. would have us to understand, that a Mary should so near approch to the Divinity, that she was to possess the highest place above Angels, Thrones, Virtues, and all Intelligences. Sometime the same Scripture, to declare the rank a virtuous woman holds in the world, presenteth unto us a ballance, in one scale a woman, and in the other all the riches of the world, and woman is the weightiest. A chaste woman, is a Gratia super gratiam, omnis penderatio non est digna con­tinentis animae. grace above all graces, admitting no comparison. And besides holy Writ, replenished with the virtues and remarkable acts of famous women, the Wise-man seems also to have undertaken as a task, the praise of women, in the panegerick of the one and thirtieth chapter of the Proverbs. There he compareth wo­man to a ship carrying victual from a far distant countrey, desirous to signifie that she is laden as much with virtues, as a ship with merchandize. Do you seek for devotion in her, a most estimable ornament of souls? Behold how the great Saint Augustine by singularity calleth this sex, the devout sex. Their first mother, as I told you, was created in terre­strial Paradise; and they are perpetually at the gates of celestial Paradise, either praying or hearkening to the word of God. Were there not women, who accompanied our Saviour with his holy Mother in so many painful pilgrimages, succouring his necessi­ties according to their abilities? And is it not a pro­digie, that on the day of that bloudy and dolorous passion, which shook the pillars of Heaven and made the Apostles flie, women were found who followed the Son of God with heart, affection, presence, tears, sighs, even to the foot of the Cross; terrours of arms, fury of souldiers, earth rent in sunder with sorrow, and Heaven wholly covered with darkness, unable to force affrightment into these souls to stop the current of their holy undertakings? Besides, they have done so many services to the Church, yea so many wonders, that not onely Cities, but whole Kingdoms have many times been converted and brought to the knowledge of God by the means of women. Desire you prudence in them? Behold a poor Thecuite, who treateth with King David of Absa­loms reconciliation, with such dexterity, that she ob­tained whatsoever she asked. See in the History of Esther, how by the treachery of Aman, swords were drawn out of scabbards to be thrust into the throats of an infinite number of poor innocents, throughout all the Provinces of the Kingdom, at which time God raised a young captive, an Esther, who so well knew how to temper the spirit of this harsh and haughty King, that she made him open his eare to in­nocency, and shut them up from flattery and cruelty: withhold the wings of thunder already shot over the heads of those poor Citizens, and turn them against the guilty. If you among them seek for justice, the history of the ancient Gauls will shew you, that an­ciently they decided differences among people, and often staid arms ready to encounter, planting the Temple of peace in the midst of furies and liberty of arms. Yea God himself for the government of his people, was pleased to make use of a Debora, whom Erat Debo [...]a pro Prophetis. Jud. 4. the Hebrews called by the name of a Bee, for her wis­dom, valour, and industrie.

You will perhaps think strength is wanting in this Tugloria Hie­rusalem, tu [...] ­titia I [...]rael, [...]u honorisicentia populi nostri, quia fecis [...]i vi­rilièr. Judith. 15. sex: Behold Judith, who consecrated her victorious hand to the defence of her countrey, and slaying Ho­lofernes, defeated a whole Armie spread over Judea, and surging on every side like a furious deluge. And if you will thereunto adde the histories of later times, see a shepheardess, a simple maid, commonly called Ieanne la Pucille, who opposed herself as a wall for the defence of this Kingdom against English arms, with such military prowess, that she seemed to bear fire, bloud, war, and victory in her hands.

Let us then no longer say that woman is the semi­nary of evils happening in marriage: but rather that they are vices which proceed from both, when the husband and wife take the liberty of doing ill.

The first disorder is, that such matches are al­most never made but for covetousness. We do not well to call this an iron Age, it is all composed of gold and silver. Heretofore marriages were made Si uxorari o­portel, sit amor in causâ. Hieron. in. ep. ad Ruffin. for love, which caused them to be of a lasting con­dition, and to be indissoluble: but now adays a­varice alone predominateth. We thought love was the most powerfull Archer of the world to transfix a heart; but avarice is found to confront him. Had a maid now all that which fools use to couch in their writings, the brows of Juno, the eyes of Venus, the hands of Miuerva, and feet of Thetis; if she be Oculos suo [...]sta­tuerunt decli­nare in terram not rich, were she Pandora her self, if she bring not where withal to guild the hand of her husband, it is no match for him.

And from hence it comes, that marriage is not as it were marriage, but a mercenary traffick, a fare, a market, where reasonable creatures are sold like bruit beasts. Ancient laws testifie, that heretofore nothing was given with maids in marriage but their apparrel, mean enough I warrant you: It was for men who sought them, to endow them. This is practised still in the new world, to wit, in China. It is a treasure there to have many daughters, men buy them with large sums of money, which they give to the parents that breed them; now they purchase men, and with huge portions buy their bondage. This makes their parents hair to wax grisly, and im­poverisheth families, which fear to be over-burden­ed with daughters; because one cannot be rid of them, nor drive them away but with a rod of silver, so much this mischievous avarice, this feaver of the heart, this voluntarily frenzie hath prevailed upon the spirits of these times. And were the maids in this case such as they should be, seeing the covetousness of men, they would rather resolve to take God for a husband in the state of virginity, than yield their bo­dies and riches up to a husband, who seeks after no­thing less than themselves. S. Hierom relateth an ex­cellent passage of Martia daughter of the great Cato, who said, that among so many Gallants as made love to her, there was not any fit for a husband. Say the like, maidens, avaunt mercenary husbands who have the fever of money, marry them to the mines of Peru, and not to virtuous maids.

The second evil I observe, is riot, which now a­days wasteth body and goods, and becomes more insatiable than hell. It is asked why avarice sway­eth in marriages, and wherefore husbands are so greedy of portion? because indeed they stand in need of it to entertain the bravery and vanity of their wives apparel. It is a prodigious thing to what height this folly is mounted: Lawyers are much troubled to reckon up all the attires and trin­kets of women, what pain shall then the husband suf­fer to buy them?

O woman, what makes thee so passionately to de­sire these gauderies? Thy first mother, whose gar­ments were cut out by the hands of God, was con­tented to be clothed with skins, and now seas must be sailed over, and the bounds of elements broken, to seek out dressings for thee. Miserable that thou art, who inordinately deckest thy self, and for an ill pur­pose! Kowest thou not thy garment is to thy body, as the plaister to the wound, or any ivy leaf to stop a cautery? S. Isodore said, before sin Adam and Eve were clothed with light: O precious attire! The Sun will have no other mantle than his own rays, nor the rose any other robe than her scarlet; because nature hath sufficiently adorned them: So man, had he con­tinued within the limits of original justice, would not have wished any garment but innocency. Sin is come, which hath by reflection impressed an ugly scarre both on soul and body; and needs must gold and silk be sought out to involve it. A man in for­mer Ages was seen, who having feet of wood, shod them with golden pantofles: O miserable, and ridi­culous vanity! Woman doth the like to cover her wretched body, which one of these days must putri­fie, and which hath received the wound of sin and death. All the most exquisite beauties of nature must be drawn together; yea marry, if it could afford any comfort and ease to the body: but you shall many times behold a young gentle-woman groan as at a torture, under the weight of her garments, yet she for all this will have, and adore her own punishment. The great Chancellour of England, and glorious Martyr Thomas Moore, was he not pleasantly disposed, when he said to one who complained of heat: Ah silly creature, what wonder is it? thou carriest upon thee meadows, vine-yards, mills, mansions, and Islands, in the value of Jewels; how canst thou possibly be cool? This was the cause why Tertullian complain­ed Tertul. de ha­bitu muliebri. Brevissimis lo­culis patrimo­nium grande praefertur; uno lino s [...]stertium inseritur; saltus & insulas te­nera cervix fert, graciles aurium cutes ealendarium expendunt. before him: A little Cabinet makes shew of a large patrimony. Twenty three thousand Crowns are disbur­sed for one rope of pearls. A womans neck puts on woods and Islands, and her ears which are so curious, waste am­ple revenues,

But the matter most to be lamented, is, that it of­ten happens, the servile and unfortunate husband buys all this bravery at the charge of the poor, and if any perhaps wring these gorgeous garments, there will be some danger the bloud of the poor may di­stil from it.

The third disorder is the discord which proceed­eth from the ill government of men, from the ob­stinacy of women, and jealousie of both. And veri­ly we may affirm the sleight vanities of wives, are much more tollerable than the disorders of men. It is no ordinary folly, but rather a rage and madness to see a poor woman full of children, groan under the heavy burden of a houshold charge upon her hand, daily fading and withering away like a plant without juice or moysture, to live on gall and tears, and in the mean time a disloyal husband to consume in excess of diet and game (the instruments of Satan) that substance God gave him for the entertainment of his family.

O ungratefull and unnatural wretch, who to give way to thy passion tramplest under-foot the com­mandments of God and honour of marriage! This money which thy cruel hand so profusely scatters in game, if thou wouldst well understand, is the bloud of this poor creature which was so charily to thee recommended: It is the sweat of her parents labours, they are her proper entrails which thou piece-meal tearest in this fatal dicing-house. I do not say thou art a homicide, there is some difference between thee and a murderer. The murderer in an instant taketh away life and bodily pain both together; but thou who livest in perpetual riots, thou drawest the vital parts from this afflicted turtle one after another, which thou oughtest to love as thy self. Thou cut­test the throat of thy family, of thy poor and unhap­py children, who are thine own bloud, which thou shouldest fervently affect, hadst thou not renounced nature, and entertained the heart of a bruit beast for that of a man; what say I a beasts heart? the Lamiaes Lamiae nuda­verunt mam­mas, lactave­runt catulos fuos: filia popu­li mei crudelis sicut struthio in desert [...]. Hier. Thren. Si quis suorum & maximè do­mesticorum cu­ram non habet fidem negavit & est infideli deterior. 1 Tim. 5. have bared their breasts, they have given suck to their young, and there is not any but the daughter of my peo­ple who is cruel as the Ostrich of the desert.

Knowest thou to whom S. Paul compares such a man? to a Cannibal, to a Barbarian? No, he tells thee he is worse than an Infidel: If any one neglect his own, and namely his domesticks, he hath renounced faith, and is become worse than a Pagan.

On the other side the obstinacy of woman is a horse hard in the mouth, head-strong, untractable: and I can no longer wonder (said one) that she was made of a bone, since many times her head is so hard; which brings infinite trouble on a family. The An­cients dressing up the statues of the Moon in hu­mane shape, set on her shoulders the head of the Sun, to shew, a virtuous wife should have no other will, nor other intentions nor glory, than the will, intentions, and glory of her husband, if they be rea­sonable. It is the doctrine of S. Paul to the Ephe­sians: Mulieres [...]iris suis subdite sint sicut Do­mino, quoniam vir caput est mulieris, sicut Christus caput est ecclesia. Ephes. That wives should be obedient to their husbands as to Jesus Christ himself, because the husband is head of the wife, as Christ of this Church.

But if she withdraw and disunite herself from this tye of obedience, and incessantly vex her husband with her obstinacy, this will be to him a martyrdom almost insupportable. The rocks of Caucasus are much gentler than a wicked woman: which verily you may see in the history of Job, to whom the evil spirit granted a wife to be the accomplishment of his afflictions. For this holy man, after the loss of his large possessions, so strange, so sudden, so dreadful; after his poor children were murdered and undone, had for tomb the ruins of their own house; after he saw himself changed into a scurf, covered over with ulcers, and placed on a dung-hill before the eyes of a citie whereof he had been Lord, he then thought the rage of Satan was satisfied: but he made use for the last piece of battery, of a spitefull and malicious woman, who seeing her husband in this plight, said unto him: Do you still remain in your simplicity? curse Adhuc perma­nes in simpli­citate tuâ? be­nedic Deo & morere. God and die.

But amongst all these disorders, no influence is more malign than jealousie, which cruelly tortures marriages, when it hath once bewitched the weak brain of man or woman, interpreting all the actions of each part in evil sense. Why went she to such a place? Did she not smile upon such an one? Did she not cast a pleasing glance upon such an one? Why spake she of such an one? And why shewed she com­passion in such a mans mishap? Questionless she loves him, her affection grows cold towards me. Behold the idol of false zeal, whereof the Prophet Ezechiel speaketh at the entrance into the temple of Ierusalem.

Behold how before the temple of marriage, which is holy and sacred, man placeth the statue of jealou­sie, and daily offers a thousand sacrifices of sinister suspitions, ill digested fantasies, purposes wicked and injurious, to the prejudice of one who is in heart both chaste and modest.

A woman oftentimes is made loyal by thinking her loyal, and he who doubts faith well observed, puts himself in danger to ruin it by his suspition. There are some care not to forsake innocency, when they have lost reputation, and when they entertain the opinion, their actions are ill interpreted, they are in danger to do all sorts of mischief. It is far better to think well of an hundred faulty, than ill of one innocent. It is a notable mystery to judge of hearts, nor is it any wonder that God reserved it to him­self. Besides, as jealousies are very prejudicial to wed­lock, so they cause many tales and matter of mirth to arise in a Citie repleat with curious people, who many times fatten themselves with the mishaps of another, and it often happens that from jesting they draw men and swords in revenge to act horrible tragedies. Happy they who know how to prevent by wisdom all those miseries which may grow from malice and misfortune, or discreetly correct by pa­tience, what prudence cannot avoid.

The thirty sixth SECTION. Very profitable instructions for the Married, drawn from the choice of holy Fathers, and abbreviated in a short discourse.

NOw will I descend to instructions suitable to this subject, and let you know (O husbands and wives) you should greatly take heed in all your deportments, as well in the beginning, middle, as the end. It very much importeth to begin with a good choice, and to enter with prudent considera­tion, and strong resolution unto the Sacrament of marriage: For that ought a long time to be delibe­rated, which is to be done but once for the whole life. What sense is there to thrust some forward up­on marriage with a forck, when they have no dispo­sition thereunto, and divert others who are more no­tably called to this kind of life? What rigour of parents, to tie young people by command to match­es from which they have infinite eversion? Is it not enough to have the contentment of sage direction over a free-will, without usurping a petty tyranny upon the functions of nature? I do not tell you, you must readily obey all those who marry by the eye, without calling reason to counsel, or having any other guid in a matter of so great importance than the exorbitancy of their sensuality: But for my part, I hold it unfit to be violent by striking at the reason­able inclinations of children, for the accommoda­tion of interest; otherwise, marriages are made with­out love, to create love afterward without marriage. It is a ridiculous thing to put wedded couples into the nuptial bed, without any fore-knowledge, as if they had been brought thither in a sack. So like­wise should you not draw these treaties at length, lest they drag with them some disorder, and waste love before the beginning thereof. Love, which commen­ceth by fervours of a fire of tow, very often end­eth in ice. Happy they who have the blessing of suc­cess, and are favoured from above to make an equal alliance between good hap and virtue. It was a great simplicity amongst those Ancients, who offered sa­crifices to Fortune, to make their beards grow hand­somely, and not to crave the benediction of God in their marriages. Fathers and Mothers give riches (said the Wise-man) but a wise wife is properly the Demus & di­vitiae dantur à parentibus: à Domino au­tem propriè uxor prudens. Prov. 19. 14. gift of God. If one have matched ill, he must cor­rect by prudence what wants of felicity. Beware, O husbands, for in this kind of life, which so strait­ly ties you, you are accountable to God, to your selves, to your wives: To God you owe a sincere conscience, that you may serve him worthily in the vocation wherein he hath established you, to become a member of humane society. Beware you hasten not to marriage as to a duty of nature, and not a Sa­crament; if so, you wed like a Sarazin, not a Chri­stian. Those, saith the Angel to Tobit, are in the power of the fiend Asmodeus, who banish God from Tob. 6. 17. their hearts, and have no other intention in marriage but to satisfie their brutishness. Observe marriage as an invention of Almighty God, to produce man on earth, and to make elect for heaven. Entertain it as a golden myne, from which vessels of election are to be taken for the other world. Love your condition, and think you have a great priviledge, since you are to afford Heirs to your houses, Citizens to cities, Re­ligious to Monasteries, and Angels to Paradise. Look upon God in the midst between you both, since he perpetually beholdeth you: The nearer lines draw to the center, the more they approach one to another: The nearer you are to God, the better shall you be united. If you build not the foundation of your house upon the fear of his Divine Majesty and sin­cere devotion, you raise fortunes like a Colossus of glass, which will shiver in pieces over your head.

After you have resigned this your conscience to God, you owe to your self the government of your senses and use of reason; and (as it appears) you are, O men, strictly bound in marriage the more to ren­der your selves men, since God placeth you therein to afford men to the Christian Common-wealth. It is necessary you draw from the fountain of wisdom more wit and more light, since you are to make use of it to enlighten a wife and children, who depend on your direction.

As for the duty of both, I find if marriage be a Lil­ly, it must have six leaves, which are Respect, Love, Loyalty, Support, Direction, and Help. It is fit love begin by a certain Regard which man and woman should bear one to another all the time of their life. For the functions of this society permitting a great familiarity, if it be not, counterpoyzed with a chaste reverence, soon degenerateth into contempt. The wives Respect ought to pass even to obedience, which the Apostle S. Paul so punctually recommendeth to Christians, and the husbands should be mixed with a Mulier collate­ralis vir [...]. Gloss. in Gen. tenderness and moderation, to let him know, God drew woman out of his side to make her his compa­nion, and not his slave.

It is good for the entertainment of this respect, that both of them accustom to conceive a good opi­nion of each others abilities: For where there is dis-esteem, honour will hardly be found, because it is tyed to worth, as the shadow to the body. For this purpose they must endeavour to cover the defects they may have by nature, by other virtues in their power, and to persevere in a belief of sufficiency in each ones condition.

To this respect the Love is added, which should be rendred according to the precept of S. Paul, in the matter of conjugal duty. For it is an intollerable thing, and wherein God may be grievously offend­ed, when a woman imagineth that to be married is nothing else but to have a Coach to her self, to buy stuffs according to her own fantasie, to become brave, and have no regard to obligations essential amongst the married. But we may truly affirm all love of sense is very low, if it tend not to those eternal sources of amities, which distil from the Paradise of God, and learn to love by grace and reason, that which is to be loved. God, to cement this love together, drew woman out of man (saith Tertullian) as some part of Tertul. de re­sur. carnis. a liquor from the vessel which contained it: He made two of one, to put them both afterward into one. It is to tear each others flesh, and gnaw their bones, to waste one another by discord, the most capital plague of marriage.

Holy love is always accompanied with mutual [Page 102] loyalty in any thing which concerneth conjugal chastity, as being the knot of affections and founda­tion of all the happiness of the married. O wife, a ring is given you of a circular form, to teach your loves are limited within the nuptial bed. The ring, which heretofore bare the seal of promise, to signifie your heart ought to be sealed with charity, and closed up from all other pretensions. Believe not those make-bates who tell you, good is of its own na­ture communicable, and that a fair wife is not for one alone, that chastity is a note of deformity, and that a husband and a friend are not things in compa­tible. These are not words, but hisses of the serpent. Fear the least blemishes of honour, and do not so much as cast an eye upon the smoke of this cole, which now adays burneth so many unhappy souls. Love not to be wooed and courted by so many eyes and lips, nor to behold such worldly pleasures, to be­come pliant to others, or to attempt to afford love, and receive none back again. Out alas! these sleight entertainments breed many acerbities. They are en­chanted apples which poison all who tast them. Men likewise, remember the best lessons of loyalty which your wife can learn, she must derive from your exam­ple. Think not because you are a man, all things are permitted you, and that your sex is a sanctuary for your crime. If you be the head (saith S. Augustine) Caput ducat, corpus sequa­tur. August. Serm. 49. move it that way whither you would have the body follow. You are the more bound to conjugal cha­stity, because you ought to be the most wise & strong, because you have the most employments to divert your temptations in the affairs of civil life, and lastly because you have most liberty, and may make your evil most general by disturbing many wedlocks, as it hap­peneth to reprobate and inordinate souls in this kind.

I adde to loyalty mutual bearing with defects and im­perfections, which is a singular virtue in marriage. For we being in this world as in a territory where good and evil easily mix together, there is no plant which hath not its worm, nor beauty which suffereth not diminution. There are not any married couple so ac­complished, who have not vices, defects, and imperfe­ctions, which who practice not to digest through Christian patience, shall become not unlike a sea-calf, said to be always moody against his fellow. The husband and the wife are upon the river called Life in marriage, as in a boat: If there happen a leak, and it receive water, they must seek to stop it presently, and if you have nothing to put into it, rather set a foot upon it, than pierce round about it to make the leak wider. A word or indiscreet action hath esca­ped; to what purpose is it to reproach or pick quar­rels with a man or woman upon it on all occasions? Rather use the speediest remedies you may, and if none be at hand, bury it in silence.

Finally, know you enter into marriage for direction and assistance; and though direction be principally proper to man, notwithstanding it is a poor business to see a woman have neither care nor government in her family, imagining she from morning till night should have no other employment but to dress her self, and many times to be attired when divers think of unclothing to go to bed. It is a shameful thing to prattle all the day long, and make a whole city trot upon her tongue, and yet be ignorant of what is done in her own house. A virtuous wife should not onely govern her family, but with wisdom and discre­tion temper her husbands passions; and if such things escape him, redress them rather by love than power. If God heretofore caused a she-ass to speak, to in­struct a false Prophet, why should he not at a need draw a good word from the mouth of a discreet woman, to set man into a fair way. Know we not that the last unhappiness of Pilate was not to have believed his wife, much more enlightened by God than himself?

As for help, it is so necessary, that next after the comfort of posterity marriage is constituted for that end. It is not enough to assist a mortal body in its in­firmities, but so much as one may mutually to ma­nure a soul immortal; you must between you share all your prosperities and adversities: I say prospe­rities, to moderate them; and adversities, to honour them: you must mutually strive to lend a shoulder, and if your burdens be weighty by the yoke of ne­cessity, sanctifie them by your patience. You must think it is a blessing even from God, to be chosen out to preserve a husband, or a sick wife, since this infirm creature is the Image of God, and your pro­per flesh, to whom you render duties, which perhaps at this time seem thorns unto you, but shall one day be crowns if you know how to make virtues of your necessities. Be not discouraged through pusillanimi­ty, but do like the Dolphin, who raiseth himself with much alacrity against the sea-waves during the tem­pest. Understand you not the Holocaust must burn from evening till morning? Burn in this fire of love and tribulation, expecting to see glory in the day-break to crown your perseverance. Though God allot you no issue, yet no whit the less love your comfort: God oftentimes suffereth barrenness of bo­dy to afford fruitfulness of virtues.

The thirty seventh SECTION. Instructions for Widdows.

PErfect widdows are in the Church as the hori­zon of Marriage and Religion; they participate of both conditions, when they be in the world for the example of the world, for the government of their children and family; but they also have a share in the life of the Religious, when they wholly dispose their hearts to God.

We sometimes see a bank of earth, which keep­eth two seas from intermixing, but being taken a­way, those two waters will pass along together, and engulf themselves one within another. O how often said you, during the knot of marriage, that if God once took away your husband, you would wholly be for him? Conjugal obligation and affairs of the world was your bank and your obstacle; but now God hath taken it away, dissolve your heart in­to his.

This is the passage where you are expected: Here it is where proof shall be made of your constancy. When you have deplored the death of your husband as a wife, you must learn to bear it like a Saint. It is a wretched virtue not to know what else to do than bewail the dead, and be desirous to derive glory from the peevishness of your sorrow. If we could draw aside the curtain of Heaven, to see the state of souls already passed out of mortal bodies to the promised recompence of the faithful, how much we should be ashamed and confounded at the weakness of our tears: we should see this great E­ternity seated in a chair of diamond, all sparkling with stars and brightness, holding a flaming mir­rour in its hand, at which time it would let us be­hold a goodly harmony of all the beatitudes these glorious souls now enjoy, separated from the con­tagion of our mortality: then wiping away the tears from our eyes, it would say to us with a voice re­plenished with sweetness and majesty: Why be­wail you these kinred and friends, who live better than ever in my bosom, absorpt in a torrent of etern­al felicities?

An hundred and an hundred-fold happy are the dead, who depart in the favour of God! Behold [Page 103] them for the time to come discharged from labours: Behold them freed of a thousand and a thousand cares, fears, pains, passions, maladies, wants, igno­minies, and all those evils which divide our miser­able life: Behold them folded within the arms of the Sovereign, where they reap the good works they sow­ed on earth. You are much troubled, O widdow, that this your spouse is at this present of the hous­hold of God, an inhabitant of his mansion, and a possessour of his glory. Have you so many tears to lament miseries, that you waste them in felicities? as if it were a great unhappiness to pass from the servi­tude of the slave of the world, to the liberty and joy of the children of God.

This is admirably well expressed in the 21. Chap­ter of Exodus, where God at the going forth of Ae­gypt, shewed himself to Moses, Aaron, Nabal, Abiud, and all the most eminent of this Nation, having sa­phires for his foot-stool (which are stones of a cele­stial colour;) whereupon a learned Commentary drawn from the Hebrew Interpreters most divinely answereth, that God would say unto them: You have laboured in Aegypt with much patience about morter and tyles; and behold all your tyles turned into saphires, into heavenly stones, to build of them the foot-stool of your glory. This is it which the most Blessed Eternity saith to us concerning the dead whom we deplore. It is not fit any longer to take pains with tyles and morter; businesses, cares, troublesom affairs of the present life are past; there is not any thing but repose, peace, glory, and feli­citie. Behold that which comforteth all solid and generous souls, with lively, fruitful, and eternal con­solations. Will you have a singular resignation in the death of your kinred, which may daily happen and fall out of necessity? Behold Saint Lewis, when news was brought him of the death of his mother Queen Blauncb; he soon perceived by the counte­nance of the messengers, who were the Archbishop of Tyre and his Confessour, they were ready to tell him somewhat able to afflict the heart of man, be­fore they could open their mouthes: Let us go (saith he) into my Oratory; (for it was the magazin where this great King took up arms to combate against worldly disasters:) and when they came thither, speak now, what have you to say? Sir, God who had a long time lent you your mother for the good of your person and Kingdom, hath taken her out of the world for her own repose. At these words S. Lewis fell upon his knees before the Altar, and lifting up his hands to heaven, said: O my God, I give thee thanks thou [...]st afforded me my dear mother whilest it was thy will, and that now according to thy good pleasure thou hast taken her to thee. It is true, I loved her above all the creatures of the world, and she well deserved it; but since thou hast bereaved me of her, thy Name be for ever blessed.

Conclude your tears as he did, but never the re­solution of your widdow-hood. It were to be wish­ed a good vow might fix it with a nail of adamant: but that should be done with discretion; for all in woman being frail, her tears can have no constan­cy. You may have read in the history of the un­happy Politician, the sorrow of Glaphyra the wife of Alexander, son of Herod, whom his father most cruelly put to death to satisfie his chimaeraes and sus­pitions. Never woman more passionately resented the death of her husband: her lamentations were yellings, her tears torrents, her words furies, her countenance despair, and life a little hell. There was no light to be seen after the eclipse of her Sun, no world after her little world, nor life after the loss of the moity of her soul. In the mean space some bab­ler insinuating hereupon, and saying, she did ill to afflict her self for a death which could not but be happy, since it was free from the sense of pain; and that for her self (it was true) her loss was unspeak­able, but the providence of God made it repa­rable by a second wedlock, which would wipe a­way her tears, and that in her constancy the world approved all but the resolution she took to remain for ever miserable. She so much with time molli­fied her courage upon the like remonstrances, that she married the brother of her dead husband, and af­ter him a third, the King of Mauritania. Josephus re­lateth Joseph. 17. Antiqu. that the first night of her wedding, the soul of her husband appeared to her, and said: Glaphyra, you have approved common bruit, which says women are light. Where are now your tears? Where your sorrow? Where the vows you made me? Your words were full of promises, your promises of oaths, and your oaths of perjuries and infidelity. For after my fathers cruelty had violently pulled away this my immortal soul, which now speaks to you, you laid aside your great grief, which seemed would never have an end, and yielding your self up to the im­portunities of ill proposed suits, you have admitted my brother into your bed, entertaining my memory and ashes, as if I had been but a shadow; and not content herewith, after his decease you married the King of Mauritania; and behold you now have tur­ned your wanness into vermillion, your tears into pearls, and sorrow into gold and scarlet. You are drenched in delights over head and cars, and take so much pleasure among the living, that you forsake the memory of the dead. Now know, although you be so ungrateful towards me, I have not for­gotten you; nor shall it be long before you be with me. The poor Queen was so terrified with this vision, that she was quickly taken into the other world, leaving (saith the history) by the publication of this apparition, a notable proof of the immorta­lity of our souls.

Yet we do not forbid second wedlocks: but all widdows are advertised they must proceed with great discretion, and that according to the Apo­stles counsel, the greatest perfection rests in wid­dow-hood. But above all, so use the matter, that this widdow-hood be not idle, that your children may find you a true mother, the Church a perpe­tual votaress, virgins a protectrice, the poor a cha­ritable nurse, Monasteries a good friend, orphans a tutress, the house one retired, societies an ex­ample of good odour, and God above all a faith­ful servant. To encourage you to this resolution, you shall presently hear Saint Hierom speak, who used words to this effect in the Treatises he wrote unto two widdows:

You have learnt in marriage the troubles of marriage; God was pleased to give you this school to instruct you for widdow-hood by your own experience. You have vomited up the choller which surcharged your stomach, would you take it up again to hear it in your mouth? Would you return to the snare from whence you went? Fear you the world may want, if you bring no chil­dren? Let it fail through virtue rather than be sup­ported by weakness. All those who are married, have not children, and such as have, are many times enforced to curse their fruitfulness. To whom (say you) shall I leave all this wealth, since I am mortal? To God, who cannot die: To Jesus, that you may make an heir of your own Master. Your father will be afflict­ed at it, but God glorified: your family mourn, but the Angels will rejoice. Let your father do what he will with his riches; it is not to him to whom you owe your birth, but to Jesus the Authour of your regene­ration.

Beware of those venemous creatures, who seek their gain from anothers charge, and who tell you there is no sense that a young woman should waste her youth in sad solitude, and neither tast the delight of children, [Page 104] nor reward of pleasure. If you have posterity, why de­sire you a second marriage? and if you have none, why fear you not a second sterility? If you be a mother, you perhaps set over your children, not a nursing father, but an enemy; not a parent, but a Tyrant. Needs must you forget your own children in the pursuits of your loves, and trick up your self in the defection from your or­phans, who as yet scarcely know how to lament or un­derstand their own misery. Alledge not here unto me, wealth, affairs, and services: No woman takes a hus­band, but to lye with a husband. Otherwise what a fol­ly were it to resign up her chastity to multiply her riches? What will it be when a husband shall persecute you ha­ving your estate? What will it be when you no longer shall be suffered to love the children by your first hus­band, and that you must hide your self from doing them any good, and hate them, to shew you have re­nounced the ashes of the dead? If you have children of a second wedlock, be you never so good, you shall be a step-mother: If you spare ought from your son in law, you will be cruel; and if by accident any ill befal him, it is you did it; if you deny him meat, you are ingrate­ful, and if you give him any, you have poisoned him.

It is time you bury to your self all these pleasures in the tomb of your husband. Counterfeiting cannot make a fair accord with tears, nor doth grief permit the pomp of attire. Meagerness and fasts should be your pearls, and prayer your perfumes. If a Queen of Carthage said heretofore of her husband, He that espoused me in the first wedlock took my heart and love with him, let him enjoy, let him possess them unto the grave; If she set glass at so high a rate, what shall we do by gold and pearls? If a Pagan widdow in the law of nature con­demned all the pleasures of marriage, what may be ex­pected from a Christian Ladie, who ows her chastity not onely to a dead husband, but a living God, and with whom she ought to live and reign for ever? The repu­tation of chastity is a most delicate Lilly in the person of women: It is a very beautiful flower, but there needs no more than a little breath, a little bad air to corrupt it, when age bendeth towards vice, and that she hath the freedom of a husbands authority, whose shadow many times might serve as a bulwark to chastity. What doth a widdow in so great a family, and amongst so many servants, whom I would not have her to despise as ser­vants, but regard with some modesty, remembring with her self they are men? If the state and quality of her condition require a retinue, let at the least some ancient grave man be seen to bear sway, who by his good life may commend the honour of his Mistress. I know many of them, who having shut their door against strangers, have had an ill report raised by occasion of their houshold ser­vants, who ministred matter of suspition, either through excess of their bravery, or their gentle garb and hand­somness of proportion too lovely; either for their age proper to wantonness, or the vanity of a haughty spirit, or confidence in the favour of their Mistress.

All that by prudence should be prevented, which the world through malice may imagine. I desire not to see about you a houshold Steward so spruce, nor any servant who may savour of an effeminate Comedian, no wanton musician (the true instrument of Satan) to poison your ear with his warbling. Have nothing remiss, nothing which may smell of the stage in your family, but rather Quires of widdows and virgins, to be an honour to your sex, and to serve as a recreation in your most innocent delights. Let the reading of godly books never be laid aside, and let your prayers be so frequent, that they may serve as a buckler to repel the fiery arrowes of evil thoughts, which ordinarily assail youth. Let virtue con­summate the good, which intemperance had prepared for it self. Redeem virgins, to present them to the cham­ber of the spouse. Take care of widdows, to mingle them as violets amongst virgins and Martyrs. It is a garland you shall give to God for his crown of thorns, wherein he bare the sins of the world.

It is very hard, and almost impossible to cut away all the seeds of passions, which we may call avant-passions, because concupiscence sootheth our senses, and insinua­teth it self very subtilely: but it is in the power of the will to dismiss or entertain them. The God of nature said in the Gospel, evil thoughts, homicides, adulte­ries, fornications, thefts, false witness-bearings, blas­phemies, Matth. 15. proceeded from the heart. The spirit of man is more propending to evil than good, from the first cra­dle of infancy, and in this battel of the spirit and the flesh, whereof the Apostle speaketh, our soul is al­most Galat. 5. 1. wholly floating, and knows not to what part to in­cline. No man comes into the world without bringing vice and ill inclinations with him; and he is the best who hath the least evil, and can preserve a fair body amongst many little infirmities.

The Prophet said he was troubled, and that thereupon Psal. 76. he held his peace. He tells you one may be angry with­out sin, like Architas the Tarentine, who said to his servant: I would chastise thee, were I not angry; which sheweth it was no sin, but a simple passion, for otherwise anger puts not the Justice of God in execu­tion. That which is spoken of one passion, may be un­derstood of another. It is proper to man to be moved with choller, and for a Christian to overcome choller. So the flesh desires carnal things, and by the itch thereof draweth the soul to mortal pleasures: But it is your part to quench the heat of lust by the love of Christ, and to conquer the flesh when it seeks liberty, by the help of abstinence, in such sort that in eating it may search for nourishment, not lust, and bear about the spirit of God descending into it, with a firm and even pace. Every man may be subject to passions, which are common to na­ture: We are of one and the same clay, of the same element. Concupiscence may as well be found in silk as in wool: It neither fears the purple of Kings, nor con­temns the poverty of beggers. You were better have the disease of stomach, than will. Rather let the body obey, than the spirit; and if you must needs make a slippery step, do it rather with the foot than modesty, not flat­tering your self before sin with pretence of a future pe­nance, which is rather a remedy of misfortunes than an ornament to innocents: For you must ever defend your self from wounds where sorrow serves for remedy.

To Maids. The thirty eighth SECTION. The praises of virginity, and the modesty they ought to observe in their carriage.

THe great S. Basil calleth virginity the per­fume S. Basil apud Melissam. [...]. of the living God; and I note from the thirtieth chapter of Exodus, this perfume of God which is spoken of, was composed of four in­gredients, to wit, of Galbanum, Myrrhe, Onyx, and Incense. Galbanum is the juice of an aromatick herb, as white as milk, and which borrowing its name from milk, figureth unto us the whiteness and purity of virginity; Myrrhe it is mortification; O­nyx a kind of little oyster, from whence issued a most odoriferous savour, signifies its constancy; and Incense in flames its patience in tribulations. But as for purity, I say reasonable nature hath engraven on the hearts of all mortals, and namely maids, so particular a love of integrity, that souls the most prostituted to sin, have ever had some remorse and feeling of the honour they had forsaken.

Should I prove this by a passage of Scripture or a Father, it were the less effectual; because it may be said, chastity ought to be praised by such lips, I will evict this verity from the confession of a Pagan, to [Page 105] let you understand it is a voice of nature. Behold a passage of Seneca, whom I have ever much admired: Senec. natu­ral. quaestion. l. 1. c. 16. Est aliqua etiam prosti­tutae modestia, & illa corpora publico objecta ludibrio ali­quid quo infe­lix patientia lateat obten­dunt; adeò lu­panar quoque verecun [...]um est. It is a wonder (saith he) that prostituted women still retain some modesty, and that those bodies which seem not to be made but to serve as an object for publick uncleanness, have ever some veil for their unhappy patience. The infamous place it self is in some sort bashfull. See the cause why there never hath been any people so loose and exorbitant, which afforded not some honour to chastity, con­vinced by their own conscience. But we must like­wise affirm it was never known to be true purity, un­til the standard was advanced by Jesus Christ, and his most Blessed Mother.

We find even among those who lived in the law of nature some shadows of chastity. We have from the relation of Tertullian, that one Democritus vo­luntarily made himself blind by earnest looking on the Sun, that he might not behold the corporal beauty of women, shutting up two gates from love, to open a thousand to wisdom. But what chastity is this (I pray) since himself confesseth he did it not for any other purpose but to be freed from the importunities of lust, seeking out therein his own peculiar ends, not the honour of the Crea­tour? A Christian Champion proceedeth much otherwise: He hath eyes for the works of God, and none for concupiscence. He pulleth not out his Tertul. Apo­log. Christia­nus uxori suae s [...]li masculus nascitur, ani­mo adveraùs li­bidinem ca­ [...]us est. [...]. Meliss. [...]. (a) O conti­nentiam ge­hennae sacerdo­tum! diabolus praecipit & auditur; nihil apud eum re­fert alios luxu­rid alios conti­nentiâ occi­dere. Tertul. ad uxorem. eys to bereave himself of the spectacle of this universe, but teareth from his heart all the roots of depraved thoughts, to prepare therein a Paradise to our So­vereign Lord and Master. He sees all, and desires nothing: and although he touch at the sense of it, stays not in the consent. There is never a more un­doubted triumph of chastity, than to deprive ones self of the instruments of evil. For as very well Climachus saith, the dead are never crowned, nor any man justly praised for having the impotency of doing ill. We find in ancient Rome Vestal virgins, and in the Citie of Egea, and Temple of Delphos: We are not ignorant that many have made profes­sion of virginity; but what virginity? a virginity mingled with idolatry and secret impurities, loose liberty, and thoughts resigned to all kind of objects. Which caused Tertullian to say: (a) O goodly conti­nency, which offers sacrifice to hell!

Virginity amongst Christians admitteth not one sole glance with deliberate consent, one dishonest thought, if voluntary. It reverenceth its secrets, and tells it not, Let us sin, none see us, there is nothing Quis me videt [...] tenebrae cir­cumdant na, quem vere [...]r? delictorum meorum non commemera [...]i­tur Al [...]ssimus. Eccles. 23. Oculi Domini multò plus lu­cidiores sunt super solem, circumspicien­tes emnes vias hominum, & prosundum a­byss [...]. but darkness round about us, which cannot accuse us, our sins shall be letters sealed up from God. Nay much otherwise, the eyes of God are two flaming torches more resplendant than the Sun it self, which will drench us in the abyss, and for this cause we keep chaste our most secret thoughts. O excellent, and admirable purity! O the true juice of Galbanum! O the true tribute of heaven!

Consider now the second ingredient of the per­fume of God, which is myrrhe, to wit, mortification of senses. Where shall we find throughout the whole Synagogue, and all antiquity a chastity preserved with so many austerities and mortifications, as in true Christianity? Saint Ambrose in an Oration he made against Symmachus, mocketh at Vestal virgins, who made a shew to embrace virginity, living in superflui­tie and delights; which is as if one would quench hot embers with oyl, or hope for beauty from the dawbing of a cole. Mortification of appetites hath ever been esteemed by Saints as a Pallissado of the delicious garden of chastity, and formal reason pro­veth unto us, that to cut off a vice subsisting in the flesh, necessarily the sinews of the flesh must be ta­ken Eccles. 10. Qui dissipat sepem morde­bit cum colu­her. away. You may have as many fruits of honesty, as there are of it in terrestrial Paradise; you may have an infinite number of virtues, the ordinary companions of purity of body. If you destroy mor­tification, the serpent will enter into your garden and sting you.

O Maids, you infinitely betray the glory of your soul, when you think to preserve the treasure of pu­rity in vanity, bravery, and curiosity, which have ever been accounted the nest of immodesty. How Quis miserebi­tur incantato­ria serpente percusso? Eccl. 12. 13. can you imagine that living in banquets, pleasures, dissolute sports, among stage-plays, love-pamphlets, and continual occasions of sin, you can keep to God the faith you promised him in your confessions. You deceive your self, you have betrayed your bulwarks, and ruined your ramparts; the serpent will rush in upon you to suck your bloud, and then will be a fit time (indeed) to crie out murder.

You take delight to play with aspicks, and then say they have stung me, give me a remedy. Must you needs confide in serpents? Must you needs approch Circuierunt in melotis, in pel­libus caprinis, egentes, angu­sti, â afflicti, quibus dignus non erat mun­dus: in solitu­dinibus erran­tes, in monti­bus, speluncis, & cavernis terrae. Hebr. 11. 18. so near to a creature untractable? With what arms think you did the Church in its first beginning pre­serve this gift of chastity, and raise it to such a de­gree, that it filled the world with astonishment, but by flight from occasions, but by rigours and auste­rities of life? What flames of sensuality did not they quench who lived in wildernesses covered with skins, companions of bruit beasts, feeding on roots pulled up with their nails, and steeped in the sweat of their fore-heads?

All passed times have infinitely commended a Jo­seph Reliquit sua tanquam non sua, quae adul­tera suis mani­bus detinebat, & aliena judi­cavit, quae ab impudicitiâ poterant com­prehendi. Ambros. de Joseph. for leaving a cloak in his flight in the hands of an unchaste Mistress: He forsook his own (saith Saint Ambrose) as no longer accounting it his, since it was in the hands of an adulteress, and thought a garment touched by the hands of an unchaste wo­man was no longer for Josephs wearing. If this act be laudable, what shall we say of those who have not left a simple habit already polluted by an evil touch, but quite forsaken and abandoned in their best health, their own bodies, although most chaste and innocent, to preserve purity of soul by an extra­ordinary mortification of flesh? What shall we say of a Christian maid, of whom Isodore of Pelusium Isod. pelus. l. 2. ep. 53. speaketh, who seeing herself sollicited by a yong man, shaved her head close to the skin to cure anothers love, depriving herself not of a coiff, not of a petti­cote or gown, but of an ornament which is on wo­mens heads as flowers in meadows? What shall we Acepsimas ut refert Theo­doretus & Me­naea Graeca. say of those, who to chastise a slight glance rather cu­rious than unchaste, have put irons about their necks, that so they might perpetually look on the earth, as unworthy to behold heaven? And what of others, who were threescore years without sight of any crea­ture? Is not this properly to cast off, not a cloak as Joseph, but the body as if it were dead? Is not this to live in mortal flesh as if he had it not? And can you Quid est dice­re volo habere quod vincam, nisi volo habe­re quo peream? vide ne unde te putas habere triumphum ae­ternum incur­ros opprobri­um: inter om­nia enim Chri­stianorum pia­certamina sola sunt dura prae­lia castitatis, ubi quotidiana pugna, & rara victoria. August. de vi­ [...]andà famil. mulier. to. 9. think God hath sold virginity to such, at the price of so many travels and mortifications, and will af­ford it you in pleasures and continual conversation amongst men, since where there is most battel, is most merit? What else is it to say, I will have where­withal to overcome, but that I will have wherewith to undo my self? Beware lest you purchase an etern­al ignominie, where you promise your self a triumph. For amongst all the battels in Christian Religion, none is more sharp than that of chastity, where the danger is daily, and the victory very rare.

If you regard the third ingredient of this perfume, which is the Onyx, solid and permanent, the sym­bole of constancy; where can you meet with a virgi­nity more bravely defended than among Christians? For if constancy (as Saint Thomas teacheth) consist in surmounting all difficulties and obstacles which offer to cross a good affair, who hath overcome more innumerable in quantity, more sharp in kind, more various in quality, than virginity? Domestick enemies are ever most to be feared, and such there [Page 106] are who have torn Lions, that could not rend from their hearts the least passion: But virginity, how ma­ny times hath it within its own body extinguished the flames of concupiscence by couragious and mag­nanimous acts, as are those which we find in the lives of so many holy creatures? How often did some roul themselves in ice and snow, as Saint Fran­cis? How often did others drag themselves over thorns, all torn and bloudy, as Saint Benet? How often did others fight against fire with another fire, taking in open hand the prime element to vanquish the principal passion, as Saint Marcian? It seems to me when I hear of these combats, I may apply a no­table place of the Seventy fourth Psalm to them: Help, O my God, help; the earth of this mortal flesh is all Liquefacta est terra, ego con­firmavi colum­nas ejus, con­fregi potentia [...], arcum, scutum, gladium, & bellum. Factum est in pace lo­cus ejus, Illu­minans tu mi rabiliter de montibus ae­ternis. Psal. 74. & 75 on fire, it is consumed, if you assist not. What have you to fear, faithfull soul? answereth the God of hosts. Be firm in your good purpose, it is I who will streng­then the columns and foundations of the earth: It is I who will shiver in pieces the bows, arrows, qui­vers, bucklers, and swords; yea all the temptations and powers of hell opposed against thee. My God, thou madest it; O what peace I now find in my heart, what great and divine lights descend upon me from the eternal mountains.

Behold the interiour combats, but if you regard the exteriour, what violences, what warlike engines have not been employed against virginity? The teeth of Lions and Tigers were onely to be feared in beasts, yet they have been sought out in forrests and wildernesses, to be encouraged against virgins, and virgins have vanquished them. How many times hath a Lion been seen let loose against a silly Chri­stian maid in an Amphitheater, to lick her feet, and in fight of four-score thousand people adore his prey, taking upon him that courtesie, which in men was wanting? Coals, which cast up devouring flames, frying-pans, boyling cauldrons made their hair stand an end, who afar off beheld them without danger, yet virgins felt them on their bodies, virgins over­came them, virgins stood free from hurt in the midst of these horrours, singing the praises of God, and the triumphs of chastity. Wheels armed with sharp irons to make bodies flie in pieces by gobbets, were O quàm pul­chra est casta generatio cum claritate! im­mortalis est e­nim memoria illius &c. Et in perpetuum coronata tri­umphat, in co­inquinatorum certamine prae­mium vincens Sapient. 4. the practises of Satan, never seen, heard, or thought on, yet being applied to the bodies of virgins, virgins blunted and rebated them with their tender and de­licate flesh.

Now, that none may object all this to be done by wily tricks of extatick souls, and that there could not be a true constancy observed therein, which is onely seen when there is a firm setling for some good space in the exercise of a virtue, you find an infinite number of them, who waxed old in great combats, great afflictions, great austerities, great flatteries, yet never left their resolution. And to let others pass under silence, who are innumerable, I will onely remember a maid of Alexandria, endowed with an exquisite beauty, and sued unto with all possible im­portunities, who hid her self in a sepulchre of the dead, and lived twelve years in a little cell, made to lodge such as had nothing to do with the world, she being found in this manner, and asked what she meant to do; made answer: I preserve the treasure Thesaurum castitatis s [...]rv inter aren [...]s calvarias, und [...] nulla flamma erumpit. Raderus. of chastity amongst these dead carkases, from whence I behold not the sparkles of concupiscence to flie. O my God, what constancy is this! what vigour of spirit! what adamantine courage! and what may weak souls say to this, who yield at the first brunt, and seem to have nothing in the world more easie and familiar, than to loose that which can never be recovered.

To conclude, constancy being never consummate without perseverance to the last breath, behold the fourth ingredient of the perfume of God, which is incense, and you shall see that as incense is melted on coals, so many have been dissolved in torments for the defence of chastity. Some have presently yield­ed up their lives, others were burned with a slow fire, delivering their bodies up to flames, as freely as one would be dispoiled of a garment. Witness that young man mentioned by S. Hierom, fast tyed with silken cords upon a bed all strewed over with flowers, who in such posture having nothing at li­berty but his tongue, spit it out all bloudy in the face of a lewd woman, who came to tempt him. Witness Raderus in viridario. another maid called Lucie, who lived a virgin among many others, and whose exquisite beauty was sought unto with vehement sollicitations by a powerfull Lord, who having command and authority in his hands, sent messengers of his fury to seize on this inno­cent lamb; and whilest they were at the gate mena­cing to kill her, and to set all on fire if this poor creature were not delivered into their hands, the maid came forth; who is there, Sirs, said she? What de­mand you? I beseech you tell me whether there be any thing in my power to purchase your Lord and Masters love? Yea, answered they, in a flouting manner, your eyes have gained him, nor ever can he have rest till he enjoy them. Well, go to then (saith she) onely suffer me to go to my chamber, and I will give satisfaction in this point. The poor maid seeing herself between the hammer and the anvile, acted a thing at that time which could never have been done without the particular revelation of God; she spake to her eyes, and said: How my eyes, are you then guilty? I know the reservedness and sim­plicity of your glances, nor have I in that kind any remorse of conscience. But howsoever it be, you appear to me not innocent enough; since you have kindled fire in the heart of a man, whose ha­tred I have ever more esteemed than his love: Quench with your bloud the flames you have rai­sed. Whereupon with a hand piously cruel, she digged out her eyes, and sent the torn reliques em­brewed in her bloud to him, who sought her, ad­ding: Behold what you love. He seized with horrour, hastened to hide himself in a Monastery, where he remained the rest of his days to expiate his loves. O incomparable patience! I would go further, but she stays me. For what can I speak more, having said this? Is it not enough to shew chastity can do little of it self, but that it dissolveth as incense on the burning coals of charity? To give away the light of the day, the sweetest of all creatures; to give up her bloud drop after drop; to give her torn eyes, so to avoid a sin, which faithless souls account but a sport! Infinite many pusillanimous people, justly chastised for their sins cannot endure the least sting, but with complaint and murmur against God; they burn, but it is as lawrels, crackling in the flames: but this virgin in the sharpest rigours of a most sensible torment burnt sweetly, couragiously, silently. O what a perfume of the living God is virginity! If the smoke of the bodies of the dam­ned, and despairing Babylon perpetually mount to Heaven in a sacrifice of vengeance, may we not af­firm this delicious perfume of virginity will on the other side ascend as a sacrifice of honour, whilest there is Religion and Altars, men and Angels? O women, prodigal of a good irrecoverable! Ah wretched maids! Ah young witless women, that give for a momentary delight a treasure for which the Church hath shed so much bloud! Ah inexcu­sable treachery, to give to a bold libertine what is taken from Jesus Christ! Ah pusillanimity, to yield at the first shock, by delivering up a gift of God, for which so many virgins have persisted under the teeth and paws of Lions, under the sharp irons of tyran­nical wheels, in cauldrons of scalding hot oyl, in the tearing out their eye-strings, in dislocation of their bones, and massacring their bodies, yea even to the last breath of life.

Unhappy victim made a prey to dishonour, what wilt thou answer to an Agnes, a Tecla, a Katharine, a Lucie, when they shall shew thee their palms, their bloud and wounds, more bright and radiant than the stars in the skie? And what will they say? behold what we have suffered for a virtue, which thou hast so sleightly valued as to trample it under foot, and through a strange prostitution hast thrown into their eyes who required it not. O mothers, breed your daughters piously, and preserve them as pledges chari­ly recommended unto you by Almighty God. What a shame, what an ignominie, nay, what a fury, to be­hold maids now adays ill taught, bold amongst men as souldiers, wanton as leaping kids, and impudent as Syrens! who hath ever sequestred shamefac'dness from the soul that did not separate modesty from the bodie? How can you account a gadding house-wife, a dancing reveller, an idle wanton to be modest, since the strongest chastities have now adays much adoe to defend themselves from calumnie? Snares are laid on every side, as well upon the mountain as the valley. There is not a stone whereon some scor­pion sleepeth not. Never was the lust of impudent men so enflamed, and yet you dally without fear or danger. Hearken to the advise of S. Hierom, concern­ing the instruction of maids, with which I will con­clude this discourse:

Let a maid, who ought to be the Temple of God, be so Hierom. ad Laetam. instructed, that she neither hear nor speak any thing which tendeth not to the fear of God: Let not impure speeches approch her ears: Let her be ignorant of world­ly pleasures: Let her tongue in her tender years be sea­soned with the praises of Jesus Christ: Let her banish young men from her company, who have any loose fashion in their behaviour, and let the maids themselves who come amongst them, be alienated from worldly commerce, least having been ill disciples of sensuality, they thereby become the worse Mistresses. If she also learn to read, let her letters be made of box or ivory, and be all called by their names, that so they may be a recreation for her eyes, to serve as instruments for her instruction. Let her in good time practice to write, and let her tender hand be guided on the paper, to trace the letters which are shewed her: Let her have some reward for doing well; for in this her minority these sleight ornaments prove to be an allurement to virtue. Let her have companions for emulation, and entertain a generous envie against their praise: Let her not be chidden if she be of a hea­vie spirit, but encouraged by the help of commendation: Let her take delight to overcome, and be as loth to be vanquished. Heed must be taken she hate not studie and travel, lest the bitterness she may conceive in her infan­cy, spread beyond her most innocent years. Let the first letters she begins to call, compose some holy names, to prepare her memory to piety: Let her have a governess grave and modest: Let her entertain her companions with serenity of countenance: Let her become affable and amiable to all the world. Accustom her not to wear pendants in her ears, to paint, to load her neck and head with pearls: Change not the colour of her hair by art, nor frizle or crisp her with fire and irons, lest it prove a prediction of infernal flames. Take heed she be not touched with the hammer, which now adays strikes all the world, to wit, Vanity: Let her not drink in the cup of Babylon, which is Impurity; beware she go not forth with Dinah, to see how the maids of the countrey are at­tired: Let her not be a dancer, nor gawdy in apparel. Poyson is not given but by rubbing the goblet with ho­ney, nor doth vice deceive us but under colour and pre­text of virtue.

Above all, let her see nothing either in father or mo­ther, the imitation whereof may make her guilty: Let her be disposed to the reading of good books, and never appear in publick without the advise of her mother: Let her not entertain some spruce young Amourist to cast wanton glances, nor let her bear particular affection to­wards any of her servants, who may whisper in her ear, but cause them to speak aloud, that all the rest may hear. Let her orderly every day offer her devotion to God; be very sober in her deportement, and delighted with works worthy of her condition. Let her be most obedient; nor ever so hardy as to see any, or undertake ought, without their leave who govern her. Doing this, she shall save her soul, and edifie all the world.

To Fathers and Mothers. The thirty ninth SECTION. Concerning the education and instruction of their children.

O What a goodly chain of gold is Charitie, which with its many lincks enchaineth the world! The more closely it shutteth, the more strength it affordeth: The more it tieth our hearts, the more it fasteneth our felicities. The first liberty of a reasonable creature, is the thraldom of an honest love, wherein fathers and mothers have a great part; for their union floweth from the bowels of nature, and none can falsifie it who violate not the first laws of the world. The father loves the son as a portion cut from himself, naturally the son loves the father; and so often as he wandereth from this love, he is like a fish out of the water. This was the conceit which S. Ambrose had upon the passage of Genesis, Let the Producant a­quae reptile. Genes. 1. Quam bona mater sis aquae hinc conside­ra, ô homo, docuisti alter­cationes paren­tum in filios, separationes, odia, offen sam: disce ergò ab aquâ quae sit parentum & filiorum neces­situdo. Genes. 9. Maledictus Chanaan ser­vus servorum erit. waters bring forth fish. Let the good mother be the water, and good children the fish, saith he. God once commanded the water to bring forth forth fish, and instantly it obeyed, and ever since for almost these six thousand years that the world wheels about, the wa­ter feedeth its fishes without murmur, and the fish never go out of the water but by constraint. O man, who hast taught divisions between father and son, mother and daughter, thou shouldst be ashamed: Entreat the water to teach thee, and the fish to shew thee thy lesson. It is a strange thing the Patriarch Noe, justly provoked against an unnatural son, who had revealed the nakedness of his father, shooteth the arrow of malediction, not against the head of the guilty son, but his children; He cursed not Cham, but Canaan; and if you ask why, Theodoret upon Ge­nesis answereth, Noe would not curse him whom God once had blessed: For this had been to take off the seal of the Sovereign Master, and raze his edicts; but S. Ambrose says very pertinently, that Noe the more to punish his evil son, cursed him in his race, as if the wounds which fathers receive in the affliction of their children, were more sensible to them than their proper and personal hurts. Take away the beam from the Sun, and he shines not; the stream from the fountain, it drieth up; the member from the body, it putrifies; the son from the father, and he no longer is a son. This admitted and resol­ved, we draw a necessary consequence from the re­ciprocal love between two; and since we must here­after speak of the duty of sons towards their pa­rents, let us now pursue the course begun, and men­tion the duty of parents towards their children.

One would not at first perhaps believe what I say, but it is most undoubted: Parents are in some sort more obliged to their children, than children to pa­rents. For who is more bound than he, who by ju­stice both divine and humane, oweth most? Now what owe children to their parents? The life they received, which they cannot render again, and there­fore are not bound to it: Well may they owe the [Page 108] honour which falls upon themselves, well the helps and services in case of necessity: But the father, so soon as the infant hath set foot into being, is very straightly obliged to provide him two things, nou­rishment, and instruction according to capacity. These are the two heads of this discourse, wherein I purpose to shew (O fathers and mothers) that you commit a great sin when you abandon your chil­dren, to become a prey of misery, ignorance, and iniquity,

The reasons are evident: For first, you sin against the grand Law of nature, written by God with a stile of fire, not onely on the hearts of all living creatures, but even on plants, which is to cherish what they have produced. Grapes hang on the vine, fruits on the tree, and take with time their just encrease from the juice and substance of the wood which brings them forth. The lamb knows his damme among a thousand to suck her, and asks the tribute of nature: Eagles bear their young on their backs: Serpents throw themselves many times into boyling caul­drons to save their egs: The Pelican, as the report is, lets her self bloud, to make a bath of it for her brood. And you in this vessel of the vast world, wherein all creatures row alike in this point accord­ing to the course of nature, would you be an unpro­fitable burden? Deserve not you to be banished from all the parts of the earth, and not to enjoy any thing but fire, or nothing to settle on, since the one is barren, and the other devoureth all? Secondly, see you not that neglecting your children, you do like an adulterer, not a father? For what seeks the adulterer, posterity? No: To afford a child to the world, servant to God, a Citizen to the Common­wealth? No: To have a creature, who may serve for the exercise of his charity, to be an object of his providence, and an encouragement for his diligence? No: what pretends he then? loathsom and lewd lust: And what do you else, when after consumma­tion of marriage and the birth of a son, you carelesly leave him without providing for his necessities? Be­sides, if (as saith Tertullian) it is to be a homicide an­ti-dated Homi [...]idii fe­stinatio est pr [...]hibere na­s [...]i. Tertul. in Apol. to hinder the generation of a man, what will it then be when he is already born and registred amongst mortals, through remisness and sloth to suf­fer him to die with hunger, cold, thirst, and misery? When wrinkles and grisly hairs shall seize on your forehead, when old age shall bow your back, and ne­cessity cast you into calamity; with what face dare you crave help from that son or daughter, whom you all the time of their life have neglected? Were it not well all creatures made complaint over your ashes?

This man will perhaps answer, As for my part (Gods name be praised) I have had a care of my chil­dren. They want nothing necessary for sustentation of life. Is it enough to give them necessaries? But how do you give them? without love, and void of charity; as a stony loaf given and taken by con­straint. Fathers and mothers, it is a strange thing to Partiality of parents. see your odde proceedings: One loves the male, an­other the female: One the girles, another the boyes: One this, because he is nosed like himself, the other that, because she hath her eyes, gate, and speech: The father takes his Idol to his side, the mother hers, and in one and the same house set up Altar against Al­tar: If you strike my little Deity, I wil not spare yours: If you bring not incense to mine, I will overthrow yours. Childish and ridiculous people! to cast affe­ction on children through sensuality, passion, and fu­ry, perpetually to fall out about children, to let them suck discord with their milk, from the example of those who begot them; what is it else but early to put a sword into the hand of these little creatures, but to tear one another, and to cherish factions and par­tialities before their eyes be open to understand them?

Let them look to it who govern in such manner (saith the other;) as for my self I take no other care than to breed my children well, and regard them all alike. What do you call breed them well? Behold another vice: Some offend through negligence, others with too much indulgence. You term well-breeding the child to cramme him up to the throat, and let him have all he asketh. Senseless creature, see you not first, you do a great injury to God? He hath trusted a child in your hand to be bred like a man, and you have made a lump of flesh of it, a bears whelp, and think there is nothing to be done but to lick it, that it may grow. Secondly, it is a base thing to say, the Sovereign Creatour having made you a Father, Master, Directour, and Governour over this infant, you should forget the character God hath engraven on your face, and make your self a slave of a gluttenous belly, and an irregular concupiscence. Besides, you put spurs to his vices to make him run headlong into the precipice, you nooze haulters to strangle him, you light torches to consume him. For what good can be hoped, nay what evil not expected from a child bred up in pride and effeminacy? Hear Disentienda sunt deliciae quarum mollitie & fluxu fidei virtus effemi­nari solet. Tertul. de cultu foemin. Tertullian speak: Take away the curiosities and super­fluities. It is not the life of a Christian: He hath re­nounced faith who breedeth his children in riot. Is it not a goodly thing to see Hercules spin silk, with those hands which were made to vanquish monsters? Know, God hath put us into the world to hew mon­sters more pernicious than hydraes or Cerberus, and not to make coronets of roses. You cannot breed your children in voluptuousness, and not thereby render their souls soft and effeminate, which quite extingui­sheth the flame of a generous spirit; and yet you complain, that coming to the degrees of maturity, they are fit for nothing but to live lazily and pick quarrels. But it is no whit to be wondered at: It is the tincture you gave them from their most tender years. You have made them al their life time to dance to the tune of their own proper wills, light, fond, and childish, and now you would put the bridle over their necks, and make them lead a serious life. Know you not what happened to the horses of the Syba­rites, an effeminate kind of people, who were so in­toxicated and addicted to dances and balls, that not so much as their horses but learnt to dance? In the mean time their enemies awakened them, and so close­ly pursued them, that they were enforced to take arms for the defence of their lives. They drew into the field a brave squadron of Cavalry, the flower and strength of the Citie; but a fidler seeing them ap­proch, mounted on these dancing horses, promised their Adversaries to deliver them into their hands whilest they were dancing. And instantly he began to strike up his violin, and the horses to bestir them­selves in dancing, to break all their ranks, and put the Army into disorder; which shame fully made them become a prey to their enemies. Behold (O in­dulgent parents) what happeneth to your children: You have always bred them in sottishness, sports, and liberty, the fatal plagues of youth: when they must come to combate, to undertake some brave affair, some thing important for the good of their Coun­trey, for the honour of your house, for the advance­ment of themselves, they stand eclipsed. Nay, per­haps it might be tollerable to behold them benum­med & stupified in worldly affairs, but they are deaf, blind, and dumb in matters concerning God; so that whilest you seek to make great and powerfull Lords of them, you (ere aware) have drawn the ma­lediction Genes. 3. 14. Supra pectus tuum & ven­trem tuum gradieris. [...]. 70. Interpr. of the serpent upon them, and made them creep on their bellies, as much as to say, according to the interpretation of some Fathers, to spend their thoughts, study, and affection, upon the care and edu­cation of the body, to the prejudice of the soul. Yet you would have those creatures to be instructed in [Page 109] the law of God: How can it be? Do you not well know that Moses seeing the Israelites dance with full Exod. 32. Sciebat Dei sermonem non posse audire te­mulentos. bellies about the golden calf, brake the tables of the Law? If you demand the reason, S. Hierom will tell you, he knew the Law of God was not for sporters, dancers, and drunkards, and that in the Kingdom of intemperance an eclipse ensues, not onely of the Di­vine law, but of nature also.

I come to the second point, which is instruction, so much recommended in Scripture. If you have Filii tibi sunt, erudi illos, & cura illos à pu­eritiâ illorum. Prov. 7. children (saith the Wiseman) instruct them, and take great care of them from their childhood. You must think your children be as Temples of God recom­mended unto you from the hand of God himself. It is an intollerable thing to have good cooks, good la­cheys, good grooms, good horse-boys, to serve the belly and stable; and a father who sends his son to school many times ignorant whether the Master be black or white, good or bad, mild or harsh, reli­gious or wicked. If kine or hogs are to be driven into the fields, one is sought out who knows the business: but to trayn up a child of a good family, an idle fellow many times is trusted, who hath in him no talent at all but malice and ignorance. Fathers and Mothers, fear you not God will say unto you: My house is forsaken, I freed it from evil spirits, I withdrew it from the power of de­vils, I purged, decked, and adorned it; I put it into your protection, I consigned it into your hands; what have you done with it? Why have you polluted it, and why suffer you it still to lie drenched in ordure? You have put the lamb into the wolfs keeping, you have given the victim to the slaughter-man, you are the cause of his unhap­piness, you have twisted the coard of his ruine so soon almost as the web of his life. Fathers and mo­thers do well, if they become as great Saints as are the Hermits of the desert; but if they neglect their child, they render themselves guiltie before God of one of the greatest injustices in the world. The Scripture in praising the great Patriarch Noe, Noë vir justus & perfectus in generationibus suis. doth not onely say he was a good man in his own person, but in his whole race, so far as his power ex­tended.

As much honour and glory as it is to leave a good Citizen to the Common-wealth, so much disho­nour and infamy it is to afford it ungracious wretch­es to trouble its repose, dis-unite peace, and embroyl affairs. They are such of whom the Scripture speak­eth: They shall be nayls in your eyes, and launces in Erunt vobis clavi in oculis, & l [...]nceae in lateribus, & adversabuntur vobis in terr [...] habitationis vestrae. Num. 31. your sides, and they shall oppose you in the land of your abode. Cruel father that thou art, who quite dead and turned into ashes, afflictest the Common-wealth by children ill instructed; thou woundest and tear­est Christianity. Were it not justice thinkest thou, to break up thy tomb and disturb thy ashes, for ha­ving voluntarily bred a little viper for thy coun­trey, to which thou art accountable for thy life? And from hence it cometh to pass, that fathers who have carried themselves so negligently and perfidi­ously in their childrens instruction, are the first who drink down the poyson they mingled for others, over-whelmed with toyls and miseries, for the con­tinual disorders of these extravagants. O how often they make complaint like the Eagle in the Emblem of Julian, when strucken by a mortal arrow partly framed out of her own wings, she said, Out alas, wretched bird that I am! must I breed feathers to serve as a swift chariot to the steel which transfixeth my body? Must I bring forth children to give me the stroke of death? What remedie then for this unhappiness, which creeping into the bowels of the most flourishing Monarchies, depopulates and deprives them of good subjects, and furnisheth them with shadows of men? What remedy, but to observe three things in this matter? First, to give a good tincture of Religion to your children, pious apprehensions of God, and a filial fear of his judge­ments. Secondly, to manure them with arts suit­able to their understanding and condition, to settle them in the world upon some good employment, lest having nought to do, they become fit to act any evil. Thirdly, to accommodate them, as much as possibly and reasonably may be, with exteriour moveables, called the blessings of fortune, that ne­cessity open not them the gate of iniquitie; and then leave the rest to the providence of God, whose eye is alwayes open over his work. Behold the course most fit to be observed: Pietie goeth fore­most; for as the eloquent Prelate of Cyrenes saith: It Cynes. ad Ar­cad. is not onely the foundation of houses, but of whole Monarchies.

Parents now adays seek to do quite contrary, and set the cart before the horse; they voluntarily imi­tate the stupidity of those Aegyptians, who prepared Altars to a Reer-mouse, for no other reason but that she is weak-sighted, and is a friend of the night. Now they preferred darkness before light, by right of antiquity: but these do much worse; for putting Heaven and earth into one ballance, they set an esti­mate upon terrene things, to the villifying and con­fusion of celestial. Nay, there are mothers to be found so malicious, as was one named Clotilda, not the Saint, but a mad woman, who being put to her choice either to consent her sons should enter into a Monastery to become religious, or resolve to see them loose their lives, Kill, kill, said she; I had rather be­hold them dead than Monks. How many are there now adays, who for a need would suffer their chil­dren to become Pages to Antichrist, to make a for­tune; at the least would well endure to see them pre­ferred to honour in the great Turks Court, with ship-wrack of their Religion? There are few Queen Blanches, either in courage or worth, who rather de­sired to behold her children in their grave than in sin. They must now adays be either Caesars or no­thing. None fear to put them into infamous houses, into scandalous places, to give them most wicked Teachers, to thrust them into snares and scandals under hope of some preferment: Nay, with how many travels and services, crouchings and crimes, do these miserable creatures purchase their chains? All Non omnes cu­ria admittet: castra quos ad liborem & pe­ricula recipi­ant, fastidiosè legunt; bona mens omnibus patet. Senec. Ep. 44. cannot find a fortune in Court. Warfare picks out those with a kind of disdain, whom it entertains for labours and hazards of life. Onely virtue shuts not the gate against any, yet it is daily despised.

Vnfortunate fathers and wretched mothers, live on gall and tears, rise and go to bed with gnawing care, to set an ungratefull son on the top of fortunes wheel, who quickly grows weary of them, and af­ter their deaths, gluts himself with the delights they with so much industrie prepared for him, mindless of those who obliged him: Nay far otherwise, he unfolds the riots of his unbridled youth even upon their tombs. God grant this evil may pass no fur­ther, and that the father and son do not one day re­proach one another in the flames of hell, that the one ministred matter of damnation, and the other gave accomplishment. William the learned Bishop of Guliel. de Lug­dun. tract. de avarit. ru­bric. 11. Lions, relateth, that a young Hermit, retiring into a horrid wilderness to attend the exercise of penance, saw his father and brother, whom he had left in the world, embroiled in ill causes, at that time deceased and buried in everlasting fire, who made hydeous complaints, the son questioning his father as authour of his ruin by amassing unjust riches for him, and the father answering, the son was the source of all his calamities, since to make him rich he had spent his miserable life in perpetual anxiety, and now suffered eternal punishments in the other world, for loving a disloyal son more than Almightie God. Cursed blindness, to buy tortures and gibbets with afflictions [Page 110] and crosses! O fathers and mothers, let your first care extend to those whom you begat, to teach them virtue, rather by your example than others instruction. These young creatures are your sha­dows, your ecchoes; they turn and wind themselves easily to imitate those who gave them life, and from whom they hope both wealth and honour. Wo to the father and mother, who make their chil­dren witnesses of their crimes, and not content to be evil, make their sin immortal in the immor­tality of their descent. An infant, though but two years old, should be used with much regard, as if it were an intelligence enchased in this little body. It is a great sacriledge to impress the first tincture of vice on those, who as yet rest in the innocency of baptism. The good Eleazar being advised to dissem­ble his Religion to save his life, or at least to make semblance of eating hogs-flesh, beholding round about him many youths who expected the end of this combat, pronounced these worthy words couched in S. Ambrose: God forbid I should serve for an incen­tive Ambrose. l. 2. de Jacob. Nequaquam contingat mihi ut sim senex incentivum ju venilis erroris, qui esse debet forma salutaris instituti. Adulterio de­lectatus aliqui [...]? Jovem respicit, & inde cupi­ditatis suae fo­menta conqui­rit. Julius Firm. de error. pro­fan. to the vices of these young people, who should rather be a pattern of wisdom. God forbid I defile my gray hairs with this execration, and that poste­rity may take notice I opened the gate to impiety by my example. That is undoubted which Julius Firmicus spake: Nothing hath so much advanced the power of Satan, as the making of sinfull gods. The young man looking on the statue of Jupiter soothed his own lust, and drew the nourishment of his sin even from Altars. So doth the son, who beholds himself in the vices of his father, and takes paternal authority for pledg of his wickedness. I leave you to think, if in Exodus 22. He who unawares suffered a silly spark to flie into his neighbours corn be guil­ty of the fires hurt, as we heretofore told you, what will it be with a father, who in his house shall en­kindle the torch of iniquity to enflame his whole family? First then lay the foundation of piety, and consequently find employments for your children, lest they consume in idleness, which is the seminary of all vices.

Charlemain soon put his sons to exercises, and com­manded his daughters to sow or spin, that the gate might be shut up against lazy sluggishness of spirit, wherewith the soul suffers it-self insensibly to slide into all sorts of corruptions. Yea, great di­scretion must beused in this point, not to enforce children to undertake vocations wholy dispro­portionable to their humours and qualities, to make them thereby row all the rest of their life against the stream. Saint Basil in the Epistle to Eudoxus praiseth the Athenians, who tried the nature of their children before they put them to any profession, proposing unto them sundry instruments of all kind of arts, and easily admitting that to which they most inclined. As for accommodation, you must therein reasonably provide according to your estate, and not according to the extrauagant ideas of this in­satiable Age. It is an admirable thing to see to what a height these offices and huge marriages are mount­ed: I think they will flie into the Kingdom of the Moon. The time hath been when a man was thought rich who had fifty crowns of yearly rent: We find when the marriages of the daughters of France exceeded not six thousand crowns payd down. Nay which is more, daughters were bought; and now they purchase husbands with prodigious sums. This is it which wasteth spirits, which renders instructi­ons unprofitable, and throws all our evils into the despaire of remedy. If you knew well how to order this matter, you would find repose and facility in the rest of the government of youth; and when you have done that which belongs to you, leave the rest in the hands of the divine providence, who well understands how to handle the web of our lives, and to apply every one to what is fittest for his salvati­on. If all I have said (O fathers and mothers) be not sufficient to instruct and perswade you, I would draw hither out of the other world Hely the High-Priest, severely punished by the revengeful hand of God for negligences committed in the education of his chil­dren. He would cry aloud unto you. I am that Hely, heretofore the prime man amongst the people of God, that Hely, from whose lips passed so many brave oracles; that Hely, who with the winck of an eye made the people obedient; that Hely, who shined as a pharos in the Tabernacle of God; and in the mean space for permitting youthful follies and in­discreet libertie to my children, see me become the object of the most enflamed anger of God which may be imagined against one of my profession: Behold me cast from the High-Priest hood as a rotten mem­ber, my house everlastingly deprived of that honour­able dignity, all my posterity condemned to die under the scourge of God, and not any one of them ever to attain to mans estate; another enriched with my spoils, which my Nephews shall never see but to wither with grief, in consideration of the felicity of their rival; my two sons sensual and voluptuous slain in one day, my daughter in Law dead in child­bed; but above all, through my sin, the Ark of God taken away by enemies, and dishonoured by Infi­dels; and lastly, my self buried under the ruins of my countrey as the last victim of Gods justice. O Sovereign Creatour of Heaven and earth, how ter­rible thou art! nay, how just, nay, how severe, to chastise parents for the sins of their children! but how reasonable in this their punishment? Fathers and mothers fear, fathers and mothers shake under the hand of the Omnipotent: fathers and mothers, be satisfied with your own sins, and carry not your childrens into the other world; instruct them so, that in their education you may find the discharge of your consciences, they good doctrine, and you rest and comfort to have well bred them.

The fourtieth SECTION. Advice to children concerning the duty they should render to their fathers and mo­thers, contrary to the contumacy of irregular youth.

THe Wiseman said it was a hard matter to Funiculus [...] ­plex difficile, rumpitur. break a triple coard. A triple law, divine, na­tural, and civil, hath straightly bound chil­dren to the honour and duty they ordinarily yield to parents. He is forsaken of God, an enemy of na­ture, and an infringer of publick tranquility, who would be exempted.

First I say, nature distilleth with the soul those amorous infusions of amity, which children have towards their fathers and mothers. The beam belongeth to its sun, the river to its fountain, the branch to its tree, and the child to his progeni­tours. They are not Storks alone who have taught us the law of reciprocal love: Lions, though of nature untractable, of life savage, even in their ro­ring moods, which make woods and mountains tremble, give us a lesson of this charity. Lions whelps, whose paws itch and bloud boileth in their veins, go chearfully a hunting to seek out food for their fire now worn with age. And hunters have often observed an old Lion lying in the entrance of a cave, and a young one to come laden with booty, putting it into the paws of the other who expected it. He received the prey making [Page 111] shew of a thousand thanks to his whelp, which free­ly divided the prize according to the law of nature. These inclinations are found even in birds of rapine, who pull the prey one from another to feed those with it who begat them.

Albertus Magnus noteth, that fowlers seeking for goshawks found one in a vast wilderness perch­ed upon a tree, not offering to stir from them, but seeming wholly immoveable. They wondring why this bird flew not away at the sight of men as well as others of her kind, perceived she was weak, blind, lame, and wasted with decrepit age; whereupon they hid themselves, expecting the coming of other goshawks, when instantly behold two hastened thither laden with meat which they pulled in pieces, and thrust into the beak of the poor old one. They made no doubt, but these were the young who fed the dam. O what charms of nature! Nay rather what providence of God! Is not he an Apostata to the great Law of the world, who violateth charity due to fathers and mothers?

As for humane Laws, what have they in them more noble or Religious than the charitable offices of children towards those who begat them? If we be­lieve the history of the Persians, there have been some found amongst them who voluntarily made wounds Aelian. l. 16. de animal. c. 7. on themselves to bury therein some part of the bodies of their parents reduced to ashes? A matter truly very strange, and which confoundeth the in­gratitude of children, who deign not to preserve the memory of their fathers so much as in their hearts, much less their ashes on their bodies.

Hath not Tertullian written, that certain people called the Nasamones through much reverence held Tertull. de ani­mâ c. 57. Herodot. l. 4. their meeting over the tombs of their Ancestours, as upon Oracles? Doth not Herodotus make menti­on of the Issedons, a people of Scythia, who enchase the heads of their deceased Ancestours in gold, and reverence them as things sacred? And although there be in this action reprehensible superstition, yet it is much more tollerable than the Law of the Aegyptians, who burnt incense to rats and cro­codiles.

On the other part Nicholas Damascene assureth us, the Pisidians presented the first fruits of all the viands Nicho. Damasc. of a feast to their fathers and mothers, thinking it an unworthy thing to take refection without ho­nour done to the Authours of life.

Yea, Plato passeth so far as to call parents [...] as one would say houshold Gods, the Plato. leg. 11. pledges of Religion, the relickes, and choicest pieces of the houshold measure. Solon would never esta­blish the Law against parricides, saying, God forbid a monster should ever come into our Common­wealth. Against impossible crimes there needs no pro­hibition. Did not Romulus the like in the institu­tion of his Common-wealth? He never inserted one word of the sin of parricide as if it had been a meer Chymaera: and verily six hundred years passed in the city of Rome amongst Pagans, and not so much as the name thereof known. The first stained with this barbarous cruelty was one Lucius Ostius, de­tested afterwards through all Ages. Men not know­ing what punishment to invent for this monstrous sin, it was said such should be thrown into the water, shut up in a sack, with an ape, a cock & a viper.

Finaly Aristotle, who is ever in argumental dis­courses, will not make use of any for the honour Arist. 8. Top. of parents: For saith he, that man who doubteth of the honour of Gods and parents, let him be in­structed, not with words but sharp punishments.

As for the divine Law, what hath it more au­thentically recommended than this band of cha­rity? What doth it inculcate with more espect, after the honour of God, than duty towards parents? For whom are recompences awarded, if not for the piety of children? And for whom menaces, but for their rebellion? Saint Thomas in his seaventh little treatise observeth, how in the Decalogue after that S. 77. om. op. 7. which concerneth God, immediately followeth the precept of the honour due to the Authours of our life, for the resemblance they have to God. And Phi­lo saith, this commandment is the knot and tye of Philo in vitâ Mosis. A quo est om­nis paternit as. all the Law. Saint Augustine writing upon the pas­sage of Saint Paul, God from whom all fatherhood pro­ceedeth, saith, that God is the Prince of all fathers, and fathers the Vicars of God, because they give children) although with dependence on the Sove­reign Cause) both being, education, and instruction.

This duty of children towards parents being pro­ved by the triple knot of the Law natural, civil, and divine: I will now enlarge upon the four parts there­of, which are, love, reverence exteriour and interiour, obedience, and succour. I say love; for what child is there can hate his father if he be not unnatural? How (o wicked son) can the hatred of a title so sa­cred, so sweet, ascend into thy heart, if thou art not become a banquerout in nature? If Tygers, and Lions had the like obligation, they would honour him, and thou persecutest him? Ah! but he is unreaso­nable, troublesom, and insupportable, what wilt thou not say? He is thy father, and therefore to be suppor­ted: behold the rock whereon all the waves of pas­sion should crack asunder. But I know not what antipathy I have contrary to his nature, I cannot rel­lishe him. Must we talke of nature, when there is question of the God of nature? Know you not what the excellent Martyr S. Justine said, To live according to nature, is to live like an Infidel? If your nature can­not Justin ep. ad. Zenam & Se­renam. agree with one whom you are bound to love, you must bridle that ill nature, you must put reason into command, and passion into fetters. Tell not me, you have endeavoured to mollify it, but find it untractable. Rather say, you are refractary against the yoke, which nature hath put over your neck from your mothers womb, for which cause see whether in the judgement of prudent men who may advise you, you yield him that duty which God commandeth.

The second part of your tribute is reverence. For it is natural to fathers and mothers, who by the light of reason are tennants of that honour which both age, nature, and the commandment of God hath put into their hands: and if any thing happen to the contrary, it galls their heart, and transfixeth them more sensibly than one can imagine. For which cause the Wiseman said. Honour thy father both in In opere & ser­mone, & omni patientiâ hono­ra patrem tuum Eccl. 15. word and deed with patience.

It is a malignity and a most intollerable baseness, to see children of poor or indifferent extraction advanced either by the gale of favour, or by their travel and industry to some publick charge, who no sooner have set foot therein but their brains turn, and they scarcely acknowledge those who gave them life and breeding, which is the first moveable of all the wealth they either possess or may hope. But yet far more barbarous are they that despise their parents, who heretofore rich and wealthy, are now despoiled even to nakedness, and drawn dry to the very marrow, to place them in dignities: This is a tyranny, which deserveth that all the ravens from the brooks and lay-stals should fly with fury upon him to pick out the eyes of this offender, who hath dared to contaminat himself with such an attempt.

Vngrateful creature, thou art ashamed of nature, thou blushest at the divine providence, what say I blush? nay thou dismembrest it; a father who is the ornament of thy head, and happiness of thy house if thou knowest how to use him, reduced by thy insensibility, thy cruelty, into the condition of a servant, whilst thou perhaps feedest dogs, hawks, or some fatal harpies worse than dogs or hawks. [Page 112] Where is thy brow, thy blushing, thy understanding? Oh but he is poor. True, because thou hast despoiled him, because thou hast wasted him, because he vo­luntarily made himself poor to make thee rich.

Tell me, was it not an honour to King Agathocles, who from being the son of a potter raised his for­tune to a Throne, was it not (I say) an honour to mingle on his cup-boards earthen vessels with his rich pieces of gold and silver plate, that he might not bely his birth? Nay, so far was he from blushing, or from being ashamed at it, that he made boast and trophey of it: What then would he have done by his poor father, if he set such a value upon the mean implements of his cottage? And thou wholly Chri­stian as thou art, canst not behold without confu­sion of thy countenance what a great Captain, a great King, a great States-man sought to proclaim to all the world.

Contempt of the person of fathers entreth some­times so far into their souls, as it hath transported them into horrible and tragick acts. Never have I read any thing upon this subject with more amaze­ment, than that mentioned in Justine, of a certain African, named Cartallus, who was by the peoples con­sent raised to an eminent degree of dignity, and ca­sually upon some solemn embassage sent into a place where his father, with many other, was banished. He looking on himself at that time like a peacock glo­riously furnished out with the rich ornaments of his employment, thought it was not suitable to his honour to admit that his father should so much as see him. The unfortunate father became so enraged with this refusal and pride of his son, that instantly he raised a sedition, and mustering together a tumul­tuary Army of exiles, he fell upon his son, although a Magistrate, took him, condemned him to death, presently prepared a high gibbet, and attired (as he was in gold & scarlet with a crown on his head, cau­sed him to be fastened to this fatal tree for a strange spectacle. What fury of despised nature is this, and what butchery?

Let us pass on to the third tribute, obedience, which (as an Ancient said) is the mother of felicities: It is the first band of families, and chief foundation of Monarchies. S. Gregory Nyssen hath a notable obser­vation, saying, that Moses of set purpose caused the Hebrews to wear ear-rings, giving them thereby to understand, their beauty and grace was in the ear, to wit, in obedience; and verily in Exodus the people Exod. 32. Tollite inaures filiarum vestra­rum auribus, & asserte ad me. Filius noster iste protervus & contamax est, monitis mostris audire contemnit, co­messationibus vacat, luxuriâ atque convitiis: Lapidibus eum obruet populus, & morietur. Deuter. 21. (a) Aelian. var, hist. lib. 1. beginning to revolt, their ear-rings were taken from them, as from men unworthy of this priviledge. That which is expressed in Deuteronomie is much more bloudy and terrible, where the father and mother are permitted to bring forth a disobedient and re­fractary son in publick, and upon their own depo­sition, to cause him to be stoned to death by the peo­ple. It seems this Law was well understood by a sil­ly Pesant (a Mardonian by Nation) named Rachones, (a) who being the father of seven sons, perceived the youngest of them played the little libertine and unbridled colt: What doth he to bring him back into the stable? First he endeavoured to cure him with fair words and reasons, but finding him to reject all manner of good counsel, he bound his hands behind him, carried him before a Magistrate, accused him, and requires he may be proceeded against as a delin­quent against nature. The Judges, who would not discontent this incensed father, nor hazard the life of this young man, sent them both to the King, who at that time was Artaxerxes, The good man went thither, resolved to seek his sons death, where pleading before the King with much servour and forcible reasons, Artaxerxes stood amazed at his courage. But how can you (my friend) said he, endure to see your son die before your face? He being a gardiner, as willingly (said he) as I would pull away leaves from a ranck lettice, and not hurt the root. The King percei­ving this resolution and zeal of justice in the poor man, of a gardiner made him a Judge, and severely threatened his son with death, if his carriage were not better.

See young man, behold wicked son, who disobey­est thy father and mother, not in a slight matter or of little importance, but in such as concerns thy life, safety, and reputation; see what thou maist expect from the justice of God, since that of men hath so much severity in this point.

You dare dispense with your selves in the Laws of piety and Religion, not shewing, even on festival days any more feeling of God than a beast; doth this seem tolerable? you haunt the company of buf­fons, wicked and wretched creatures, which wast the means that are not yours, weaken your body, violate your reputation, and defile your soul, and is not this a crime? You make resolutions and frame chymaeraes without advise either of father or mother, you bring them into debt, you treat clan­destine marriages, you thrust those alive unto their graves who gave you life; and can you think the ven­geance of God will ever have leaden feet? Faith­less and bruitish as you are, how many fathers for far less faults have inflicted severities on their chil­dren, dreadful even to those who read them. Marcus Scaurus in the Roman history sent this message to his son, who fled with the rest of his Army defeated by the Cimbrians: Son, you are born of a father, who knows either to vanquish or die, rather send me your bones than return alive after the death of your honour. A father could not endure the flight of a son, which was very excusable in a general defeat, because it seemed to cast some blemish upon his family; and you who surcharge your house with reproach and confusi­on, would you escape unpunished? Another father, Aulus Fulvius, understanding his son had rancked himself in the faction of Catiline (a wicked wretch, who supported and debaushed all the youth of Rome) caused him to be taken in the place, and condemned to death, and this young man beg­ging pardon with all manner of suppliant intreaties had no other answer, but, Son I begat you to make war upon Catiline in your Countries quarrel, not in Catilines cause to assayl your mother. And who can but wonder at another Torquatus, that had a son in great employments of the Empire, flourishing in honour, age, and reputation; who being accused by the Embassadours of Macedonia, to have ill carried himself in their Province, when he had it in charge; this father with the Senats permission would himself be Judge in the sons cause, heard the accusers two whole days together, confronted witnesses, gave his son full scope to defend himself and to produce all that he could for his justification, in the end on the third day, he pronounced sentence: It having suffici­ently been proved unto me, that my son Syllanus hath ill acquitted his charge, and taken money from the allies of the Roman People, contrary to the command of Laws and honesty, I declare him from this time for­ward unworthy both of the Common-wealth and my house. The unfortunate son was so overwhelmed with melancholy upon this judgement given by his fa­ther, that the next night he killed himself, and the father esteeming him degenerate, would not so much as honour his funerals with his presence. Good God what severity! what thunders, what lightnings against the disobedience of sons among Pagans. And you wicked sons, in Christianity, where the Law of love should oblige you to the duty, which I prove unto you with an adamantine knot, do you think all is permitted you? And you fathers, are not you most worthy of your unhappiness, when you cherish by a negligent and soft indulgence the disobediences of your children, which you should root up from their in­fancy, [Page 113] and not suffer them to grow to the prejudice of your houses, with so many bloudy tragedies as are daily seen in the mournful theater of the worlds Fili suscipe se­nium tam patris tui, & non contristes eum in vitâ illius & si defecerint sensus, veniam da, & non sper­nas eum in tuâ virtute. Eccles. 3. Qui time [...] Deum honorat pare [...]tes, & quasi Dominis serviet iis qui segenuerunt. miseries?

Let us conclude upon the fourth duty of children, which is succour: Son receive the old age of thy father and mother in thy bosom: Take heed thou do not contri­state them in any kind: Beware thou scornest them not, if they chance to fall into any debility of spirit: Assist them with all thy might. It followeth: The child which fear­eth God never fails either in the honour or ayd he should yield to his parents: nay more, be shall serve them as a servant his Master. We need not here seek out examples in holy Scripture, or where the Law of nature is handled; the more our proofs are taken from Infidels, who had nothing at all but the light of reason, so much the more clour and weight they have. I will not make mention here of a Roman daughter Fulgos l. 5. c. 3. who fed her father from her own breasts, condemned to dye of hunger between four wals; you may sufficiently see that often recorded in wri­ting. Yea, under Peter of Castle there lived a man that never ceased weeping until he were put to death instead of his father, who was to be executed. I speak nothing now at all of that, but cannot omit an ex­ample recounted in Bibliotheck of the great with Pho­tius, who telleth on a time there happened in Sicily (as it hath often been seen) an eruption of Aetna, now called mount Gibel: It is a hydeous thing, and the very image of hell, to behold a mountain which mur­murs, burns, belches up flames, and throws out its fiery entrails, making all the world fly from it. It happened then, that in this horrible and violent breach of flames every one flying, and carrying away all they had most precious with them, two sons, the one called Anapias, the other Amphinomus, carefull of the wealth and goods in their houses, reflected on their father and mother both very old, who could not save themselves from the fire by flight; and where shall we (said they) find a more precious treasure than those who begat us? The one took his father on his shoulder, the other his mother, and so made passage through the flames. It is an admirable thing that God in consideration of this piety, though Pa­gan, did a miracle: for the monuments of all anti­quity witness, the devouring flames stayd at this spectacle, and the fire roasting and broyling all round about them, the way onely through which these two good sons passed was tapistred with fresh ver­dure, and called afterward by posterity the holy field, in memory of this accident.

What may we answer to this, what can we say, when the virtues e [...]en of Pagans dart lightening-flashes of honesty and duty into our eyes? What brasen or adamantine brow can covetous and cay­tive sons have, who being rich and abounding in means, deny necessary things to those who brought them into the world, yea have the heart to see them struggle with extream misery, whilst they offer a sa­crifice of abomination to their burning avarice? Wicked son, wreched daughter, know you what you do when you commit such a crime? You hold the soul, bloud, and life of your progenitours in your coffers, you burn them with a soft fire, you consume them with a lingring, and shameful death; you are accountable before God for what they suffer. And for whom is remorse of conscience? For whom infa­my? For whom necessity? For whom punishments in the other life, but for such as in this manner abuse a treasure so recommended by God? Take heed (O children) take heed of breaking this triple cord of the Law divine, natural, and civil, which indissolu­bly tie you to the exercise of that piety which you have abjured. Take heed of irreverence, disobedi­ence, and ingratitude towards your parents; expect not onely in the other life the unavoydable punish­ments of Gods Justice against such contumacy, but in this present life know you shall be measured with the same measure you afforded others. You know the history of the miserable father dragged by the hair with the hand of his son unto the threshold of his door, where seeing himself unworthily used, Hold son, saith he, it is enough, the justice of God hath given me my due; I committed the like out­rage heretofore against my father, thy Grand-father, which thou at this instant actest upon me: I drag­ged him hither, and behold me hither haled: Go no further. O Justice! O terrour! O dreadful spectacle! Great eye of God, which never sleepest over the crimes of mortals. O divine hand, which ever bear­est arms of vengeance hanging over the heads of rebellious children! How terrible thou art? who can but fear thee? who will not heareafter tremble at the apprehension of thy judgements?

Children be pious, live in the duty you have vow­ed and resigned to your progenitours, and to all your superiours: Live full of honour and glory in this world, live in expectation of palms and crowns which you shall enjoy in the other world. And you likewise fathers and mothers, embrace charity to­wards your good children with all affection, and if any forget their duty, and afterward stretch out hands humbly to your obedience, receive them into favour, exercise mercy towards them as you desire should be done to you by God our common fa­ther. But if you still groan under the ingratitude of wicked children, and the fear of future evils, wipe away your tears, sweeten your acerbities, season your bitterness with the comfort of a good con­science. When you have done all you can and all you ought to do, leave the success to God, and say unto him, My God who hast seen the cause of my afflictions to proceed from my self, accept my good desires for the works of this evil child, my sufferings in satisfaction, and my patience for sacrifice.