I Am thus far indebted to my prison, that the evils of other men come later to my knowledge; even your wound, which o­therwise I should have known among the first, by reason of that friendship wherewith you have honou­red me, I now understand last of all, like unto those things that come to pass in the remotest parts of Europe. This will excuse the slownesse of my duty, which yet beside necessity hath reason enough to defend it. For those conso­lations are wont to be more accepta­ble, which are then applied, when the [Page 2] first storm of sorrow is past, and that pleasure (if I may so speak) of grieving is abated; when the minde now wearied with its disease begins to be willing to admit of remedies, and to suffer the touch of some helping hand. I know how you were affected with my calamity, and thence you may understand, I am not unsensible of your sorrow. Let us, if it please you, mingle together the cau­ses of our grief, that we may together seek for comforts, and when we have found them make use of them together. Neither am I ignorant, how little I, that am so destitute of all aids both to my minde and body, am able to bring unto this purpose, which is not already better and more effectually alledged and ex­pressed by the professors of wisdom or eloquence or piety, who have hereto­fore set up their standard against immo­derate mourning. But I am taught by my own experience, That can never be too much repeated which is never e­nough remembred. We must scour and call back into use the Arms, which by length of time are grown rusty. Besides, the advices which are given in general words, as spoken unto all, are wont to pass by with less observation: but when [Page 3] they are applied to our particular case, having no other mark to hit, they pierce and have a more strong effect. At our first entrance upon this work, we must seriously consider, whether the grief of the heart be in the number of those things, over which our labour and in­dustry hath any power. For if necessa­rily and naturally we do all grieve so much as the greatness of the occasion, and the immutable frame of every ones minde requireth, it is easily understood all pains to the contrary is taken in vain. Nor doubt I but rude mindes surprized with some such perswasion do sometimes give up themselves to the possession of grief, as of a disease incurable. They feel sad thoughts come into the minde unsent for, whence follows that pressure of the heart contracting it self, which we call maeror, and so without more ado they throw down their arms in despair of victory. But we, who besides our in­ward experience (which alone rightly observed might suffice) have the helps of excellent arts, and the use of all lear­ned and wise mens labours before us, can­not be ignorant of the truth in this point, if we please but to rouse our selves up, and draw forth what we have hid [Page 4] within us. The truth is this, Those first appearances, and the suddain motions arising thence, which the wise compare to the twinklings of the eyes, are with­out our power; but to admit of those appearances and let them without judge­ment and discretion into the closet of the heart; or else to pass a strict examina­tion upon them, and weigh them in the scale of reason: also, to loose the reigns to the affections, or to restrain them; this for the most part is within our pow­er. That sorrow may be overcome, na­ture it self teacheth us; for, if by no o­ther means, it is at last consumed by time. Art imitates Nature. The Phy­sician observing any disease mitigated by naturall sweat, endeavours to ease his patient sick of the like disease by medi­cines that procure sweating. The new Philosophers, the Chymists, worthy of more praise and favour, if they did not corrupt the glory of their excellent in­ventions by vainglorious promises, teach that the nature of metalls is ambulato­ry, and by long continuance of time one is changed into another: and herein consists their industry, to promote the endeavors of nature, and hasten that ef­fect which will at length be produced. [Page 5] Such is the office of right reason in o­vercoming sorrow. Sorrow hath this good in it, above other evils, it bears not age. Other diseases of the minde are nourished, this is wasted by time. You may suppose it is a weak enemy, that cannot maintain it self, and without any force opposed, fals of it self. What na­ture promiseth at a longer day, reason represents and pays down in hand. Let us therefore, as it is the property of Art, follow the steps of nature. When by lit­tle and little the grief of minde depar­teth, there is for the most part no change in the thing it self, yea the incommodity that was, often becomes greater, as when he that hath lost a friend or wife declines to old age, wherein he hath most need of helps. Whence then arises that calm in a minde so much troubled before? Truly hence, the appearance of the thing that causeth sorrow is more seldom in the eye of the minde; it slides by, not sticks, it touches, doth not press or pierce the minde, and at last it doth not so much as touch it. Consider now whe­ther every one be not able speedily to cure himself, and hasten his own enjoy­ment of so great a good. Most of us not only suffer, but create our sorrow, [Page 6] whilst we yield our selves to sudden co­gitations; in mourning especially, where the vexation flatters us under a shew of piety. Those sad thoughts we cherish carefully, and to our own hurt patronize, doing like them that seek for looking-glasses which represent bodies greater then they are. Surely, the will of man, that hath such force to hurt himself, might do somewhat, if it pleased, for his own ease. That sorrow is an enemy to us, we cannot deny. The leannesse of an exhausted body, paleness of counte­nance, dejection of minde (causes of grief for the most part more just then that for which we grieve) shew it to be an enemy. In the dealing with an enemy, what are we wont to do? If he be strong and at the first onset violent, whilst your forces are not yet come together; the first caution is, to decline the bat­tell: afterward, when you are assured and confident in your strength, you shall march into the field and display your co­lours. Even so the appearance of your loss being fresh, and your minde tender, it is best to bend your thoughts another way. None may do it more easily, ex­cellent Sir, then you, who need not seek for employment, you have in your charge [Page 7] affairs of so great weight and labour, that they may very take up all your thoughts. The King whom you serve, the greatest and most Christian, the difficult times, the many and various businesses of your Office, what else do they all say unto you, but; Attend your work, you are not at leasure to be a Mourner. Most true is that old saying, The minde is prevalent, where you put it forth and use it. Certainly it is there to be used, where our labour may be to good purpose; that is, not in mour­ning, but in the service of your King and Country. It is no more then ordinary common sense which the Greek Poet hath adorned with elegant expressions to this effect;

I know that, said Solon, and I weep the more, because I can do no good by weep­ing. This very foolish saying of so wise a man may be an example to us, how much sorrow darkneth the judgement, that made Solon himself to speak unwise­ly. For in those things wherein care and industry is of any force (among which [Page 8] things sorrow is one, as we have said) we must observe, not whence the passion comes, but whither it goes. 'Tis the office of reason to look forward, not backward. Wherefore he that doth any thing ought often to put the question to himself, Why do I do this? What do I hope? What do I desire? This if one ask himself who cherisheth his grief and endeavoureth not to correct it, he shall see how nothing can be answered.

But you may object, It is hard and in­humane to expell out of your heart the thought of her you lov'd so dearly and so deservedly, not less for her vertues, then because she was your wife. Remember, 'tis requir'd but for a time, and, as in a labyrinth, this way leads you to a place contrary unto it. So doth a short absti­nence conduce to the better concoction and digestion of the food you shall eat. I would have her live in your thoughts perpetually, but so that the memory of her may delight, not torment you. 'Tis an injury to her, when she is called into your minde to create her husband sor­row. Let her come then, when she may come, in the quality she was wont to come, fair, kinde and cheerfull. This image of her, which now occurrs to your [Page 9] minde, sorrowfull, and leaving a trou­blesome remembrance of her, is false and resembles her not. I do now foresee the time, when that sweetness of manners, that love and reverence of you, that un­wearied care in the good education of her children, that sincere piety toward God, and whatsoever in many of that sex is wanting, in some few is most praise-wor­thy, will offer it self to your minde, not only without danger, but with much sense of joy: when it will delight you to remember her, and to set before your childrens eyes all her actions as the best Samplar for their life. Only for a little while put by the thought of her, which you shall afterward resume with advan­tage. To this end, as I was saying, will avail these many weighty affairs, which being enough to oppresse another, sit lightly upon you. Now is the time, if ever, to be immersed in publick cares, and suffer no room at all in the minde to be unpossest. Nor are the conferences of friends unprofitable, provided they be men of courage and wisdom, not such as commend themselves by the imitation of your sadnesse. Conferre with the dead also, and turn over Books with greater diligence now then ever, and let that [Page 10] which was but your recreation before, now become a part of your labour. Books will not only give you a safe retreat from the enemies fury, but arms also against the enemy. For whether you contem­plate with your most capacious soul the nature of things, you will see how no­thing is without the empire of death, no not the elements themselves: It is the most universal law, which condemns e­very thing that is born, to dye; and it were great ignorance to think one person can be exempted from the common ru­ine: Or, whether you turn to the Mo­rals, among that fair company of ver­tues you shall behold Fortitude, of a firm body, a head lifted up, a chearfull coun­tenance, but among the vices Sorrow, macilent, pale, of a cloudy brow, and down-cast looks: Or, whether you search the Animals, you shall finde examples of men, who have born the deaths of Pa­rents, Children, Wives, with a minde lesse mov'd then ours is at the reading of the story. Now, having by these Arts escaped the dangers of the first time, and withall gotten strength, let the soul at length come forth into the field, as it were, and prepare to fight.

But here also I think it fit to imitate [Page 11] wise Commanders, who, as much as they can, sever the enemies forces, that fight­ing with the severall parties, they may more easily conquer all. Mourning is a confused thing, it objects unto the minde many things at once and in a heap, which being joyned terrific, but vanish being divided. All the assaults it makes against you are either in respect of Her whom you lament, or of your self the Mourner, or of your children, with whom and for whom you mourn. Weigh these particulars severally, you will finde part­ly that there is no cause of grief, partly that the incommodity is much overba­lanced by greater good. I will begin with Her. It is in all mens mouths, which we read every where in Christian Writers, but in Antiphanes too (which you may more admire) a heathen Poet speaking in words of this sense:

We must dwell the longer upon this place, because it alone without the rest, if it be rightly considered, is sufficient for [Page 12] consolation. I would not have any credit given me without a most competent wit­nesse, the Doctor of the Gentiles, the Founder of Churches, called to be an A­postle by a voice from heaven; who be­ing indued also with humane learning, all other arguments omitted, checks the immodesty of sorrow with this alone: I would not have you ignorant, Bre­thren, concerning them that are asleep, that ye sorrow not even as others which have no hope. For if we beleeve that Je­sus died and rose again, even so them that are asleep will God bring with him. It is the manner of Epistles to deliver in short that which familiar discourse doth expresse more liberally. But if Paul, as it is beleeved, after he wrote this, visited his Disciples of Macedon again, he might haply prosecute this most wholesome point more at large after this sort: Freinds, whom nature hath made of the same kinde with us, and the Word of God hath new made and raised to the same Grace; ye know it is our duty throughly to purge out whatsoever old corruption remaineth in you; your coun­tenance, your habit and gesture speak you to be much and long grieved in minde, it any of your dearest Relatives be taken [Page 13] out of your sight. Nor is it any marvel, for thus did your fathers, and thus do the people with whom you live intermixed: Great is the power of a vice commended by the authority of parents, and the di­seases which have seized, not upon single persons, but whole Nations, are very con­tagious: but you must remember to what Institution you have given your name: in your baptism, when the wash­ing of your body figured the cleannesse of minde, I received your vow to forsake the world. Peace with God is not bought at any cheaper rate. We have doctrines, we have also rites which separate us from the world, and make us a people different from all the rest of mankinde: Even our words are not the same, whom they call dead, we say are fallen asleep: So are we taught to speak by him that is not only the Master of life but speech. What is the meaning of that new word? That sleep is the image of death, even the Po­ets of the Grecians and their Philoso­phers have delivered; but with them the similitude holds not, which with us is most exact. By motion and action we understand life: there is a defect of these, when the body is tied up with the bonds of sleep, and lies as it were buried: when [Page 14] the morning Sun hath driven away the night, that vigour that was not lost but intermitted returns again: mean while, the soul which hath a power not depend­ing on the body, performing the offices of both times, perpetuates her action; So when the term of mortall life is come, the body lies torpid and unactive, whe­ther it retain as yet the shape it had im­mediatly before, or else hath rendred its parts to the original dust. But wait un­till the great day shine forth, there it will appear, the body rested for a time which seemed lost. In the mean, that part which is invisible keeps possession of life in be­half of the whole man. Compare with this our faith, what others running into so many by-waies do conceive: when in very many and the greatest things their opinions differ, in this almost alone they agree, that they are without hope of life ever to return unto the body, and there­fore deprive man of his immortality. For man is a body animate, not a soul with­out a body, nor a body without a soul. The soul it self departed from the body, many of them either think to be annihi­lated, or at least not to retain the state of its own substance. So the whole man, to them, is destroyed without hope of resti­tution, [Page 15] as appears by those very consola­tions which they apply to mourners. For they say, Dead men indeed have no good; but neither have they any ill. Now, al­though the opinion of these men is hard, yet theirs is much harder who make the soul outlive the body. For that lower place which they will have to be the cō ­mon seat of souls gone out of the body, they describe as a wilde place, horrid and dark, and of such a condition, that one would die another death to get out of it. Moreover, which is worst of all, They to whom other punishments are remitted are (according to this opinion) ever­lastingly under this torment, a vain and never satisfied desire of returning back a­gain to their former life. If some few a­mong those men have any better conje­ctures, they doubt and fluctuate more like to those that wish then affirm. But ye have learned among the elements of our doctrine, that life remains in the soul, and shall be restored to the body. That which is the consummation of our de­sires, concludes the formula in our holy in­itiation. For being asked whether ye be­leeved the Resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting, ye answered every one before God and his Chuach, that ye did [Page 16] beleeve. Upon this formula the confessi­on that you made I now treat with you: but it is not sufficient to give a light as­sent, that perswasion must be firmly root­ed in your mindes, so shall it bring forth mature and fair and lasting fruits. Much will avail to this purpose, the attent me­ditation of those Arguments by which you were induced to subscribe to this Faith. We caught you not by the affect­ed ornaments of humane eloquence, nor did we by a long chain of consequences entangle the mindes of the more igno­rant; but we brought the businesse to that which is common to men and wo­men, learned and unlearned, young and old, and which is accounted the greatest assurance of all, even to the judgement of sense. The most famous enquirer in­to nature among the Grecians, gives this reason why we have not the knowledge of many things; because we can neither see them with our eyes, nor touch them with our hands: by which way things are wont to come unto the understan­ding. God hath excluded us from this excuse and pretence for our ignorance. He hath presented to our hands and eyes a specimen and pledge of what we hope for. That Jesus Christ the Authour of [Page 17] our faith was nailed to the crosse, and di­ed on the Crosse, all Jerusalem saw, the Senate saw, the Roman band saw it with their eyes, and also that multitude of strangers wherewith that great City was then filled: That he was buried and lay in the Sepulcher two whole nights, and the day interposed, is manifest, both by the declaration of the Seal, and by the te­stimony of the watch. So far we and our adversaries are agreed. This same Jesus after that time women saw living again, his followers also saw him, both severally and all the eleven together, at divers times: There were some also that hand­led his hands and side. That nothing might be wanting to make faith com­pleat, He shewed himself to be seen and heard by five hundred witnesses at once: who in good part are living and do testifie the same. To come unto my self, I have seen Him shining with divine Majesty, and by his immediate authority was con­verted, and vowed to be his servant whom before I had persecuted. And can any one yet be doubtfull? Certainly, never did any equall Judge reject so many wit­nesses, men of integrity, and such as had no temptation to make a lye. This testi­mony is so farre from being gainfull to [Page 18] us, that we must pay for it with the losse of all things, for the saving whereof lyes are wont to be invented. Therefore doe we incurre the hatred even of our nearest Relatives; we are dispossest of our E­states, we are banisht from our Coun­trey, we are in hazard of our life every day. No man at so dear a price doth buy the pleasure of deceiving another. Now if our testimony be received by amost evident example it is manifest that God can restore life to a dead body, And by the same Argument it is evinced, that this shall be done for all the Disciples of Christs institution, if that be certain, which was certainly heard by many thou­sands, that Christ hath promised it. For the Resurrection of our bodies is assured by Christs testimony, the veracity of Christ is witnessed by his Resurrection. Neither could it stand with the equity of God to give that honour to one that spake not the truth, especially when him­self before the event had set it for a sign: Wherefore beleeve us, that Christ is ri­sen; and beleeve Christ, that all shall rise to immortall blessednesse and blessed im­mortality who die his Disciples. He shall present us to the Father, who hath once obtained such grace with the Fa­ther, [Page 19] that no request of his can ever be in vain: He shall make us partakers of his glory, and bring us into those places, where dwels an undisturbed peace; where neither diseases shall approach the body, nor vices have accesse unto the minde; where shall be life without fear of death, and joys without mixture of sorrow. Some taste of this supper have the souls already, that are departed hence in the faith of Christ, in most sweet tran­quillity waiting for the consummati­on of their felicity, together with the bo­dies. He that heartily beleeves these things, must needs be so far from lament­ing, that he will congratulate their hap­py condition, whom he hath sent away before him to the enjoyment of our com­mon hopes. For in a true judgement they are not dead, but freed now at last from their mortality. This place of Paul hath carried me farther then I intended, whi­lest I endeavour to examine every one of his words, and the force of them. For I am assured, there can be no better reme­dy applied to sorrow, then that which the great Physician of souls among the infi­nite treasures of saving wisedome hath brought down from Heaven. And yet, how many things have I omitted, which [Page 20] might be drawn from the fame fountain? But those considerations that we have de­duced thence, if they be taken to heart, and received throughly, will be sufficient. Beleeve it, excellent Sir, as if you saw it, the soul of your wife for many reasons most beloved, begins already to enjoy the sweet fruits of her virtues, and tasteth the rewards promised to sincere piety. The end and consummation of so many ages, when she shall be wholly restored to her self; that immense accumulation of all good things, to which all that can be ima­gined is far inferiour, is not expected afar off, as by us; but lookt upon by her at the nearest distance. What she hath in possession is so great, that she wanteth no­thing; and yet that is more which she seeth she shall possesse. Nor have you any reason to say, She might have stayed lon­ger before she went thither. Time is some advantage, and it is a great felicity to be quickly happy. How many evils, partly certain, partly uncertain, doth he escape who is called hence betimes? How ma­ny are the examples of men that have paid dear for the lengthening of their life? I might here relate the torments of diseases, and the affronts of fortune never more to be feared then when she flatter­eth, [Page 21] and the incommodities of old age which every man that lives long shall be sure of. This one thing seemeth to me a sufficient benefit of an early death, to be put out of danger of sinning any more. It remains that you say, I am not sorry for her sake, but my own: And to this I was now coming, for that is wont to be said; but how unjustly, any one may easily un­derstand whose ejulations have not made him deaf to the voice of reason. He that flyes to this refuge manifestly shews him­self an offender against the laws of friend­ship. For they that fetcht the originall of friendship from indigence, were enter­tained with the hisses of almost all Phi­losophers; nor among the common peo­ple, whose manner is to measure most things by profit, could they make good their cause. In friendship, the Affection goes abroad, and without self-respect, seeks the good of another. Applauses fill the Theater, as oft as any Pilades derives upon himself the dangers of Orestes: so prone is the consent of men to esteem it the office of a friend, in an equall matter to prefer his friends safety before his own. How much more ought the sense of our own incommodity and losse be swallow­ed up by the felicity of one we professe [Page 22] to love; when we consider here is much more of good then there of evill. Zopyrus is commended in the story, because he cut and dismembred his own body, to the end his King might obtain a great, yet but one City. In this case there was some com­parison: but in yours, if in the one scale you put your wife advanced to the very gates of Eternity, enjoying the society of Christ and the blessed souls, free from e­very thing that may occasion either grief or fear; in the other scale place your self, destitute of those commodities which a happy matrimony prolonged for some more years might adde unto you, there will be found no weight in your part of the balance, the beam will not stand at all, but speedily turn with the great weight on the other side, as if on yours were nothing. What if I acquit you from this compari­son, and convince you that your incom­modities weighed by themselves are no­thing really, but only in opinion? For wherein, is he more unhappy who hath lost a wife, then he who never had one? In opinion there is some difference, for the memory of the thing once possessed represents the image, the image excites the desire: but this is the judgement of the lower bench, we may appeal. Let your [Page 23] Reason aided by so much experience, and instructed by so much reading, sit in the Judgement-seat and pronounce the sen­tence. That which is past, is not; and therefore can have no efficiency: nothing is ours but whilest we have it; afterward it pertains no more unto us, then that which is farthest from us. Really then, He that never had, and he that now hath not, are in the like case; but that he seems the more ingratefull, who from the benefit he once enjoyed takes an occasion to com­plain. Would you therefore see, how not miserable you are? Look upon so many thousands of men, who to their last years have willingly and by their own choise lived a single life: in which number are many learned men, pious, prudent, and such as were not ignorant either of the good or evill wherewith married men are attended. Wives are helps and comforts to their husbands: but they must be likewise helped and comforted. And if the burden be equally divided, there is no more in one whole burden, then in half of that which is double to it. Such is the nature of the contract, that it laies the harder bond upon the men, to whose protection the infirmer sex commends it self. One in the Greek Comedy, if God should [Page 24] offer him a double body, saith he would refuse the favour; his reason is, because with multiplicity of the parts his care would be multiplied. It is indeed a plea­sant thing in prosperity to have one to whom you may do good: but the more favourably fortune fils your sails, the more you must contract them, and take heed lest even in the greatest innocence your behaviour give colour and occasion unto Calumny, which doth closely pursue men of higher fortunes. If any adversity befall you, it is true the wife partakes of the sorrow, but it returns and lies hea­vier upon the husband: as the rayes of the Sun reflected from the ground do the more inflame the air. The Grief de­rived from a dear person whom you behold grieving for you, is more grievous then the primitive. I alledge not these things as if I had undertaken the Encomium of a single life: it is enough for me to shew, that seeing either life hath its commodities tempered and mixt with the incommodi­ties, it becomes every one, with an equall and indifferent minde, to conform him­self to that lot and condition that hath befallen him. The last pretence of grief is the most specious, in respect of chil­dren whose education, when the care is [Page 25] divided between the two parents, proceeds the better. This is somewhat, but herein hath God abundantly provided for you. You are a man of unwearied vigour; and if you please to use your whole strength, able to supply the place of both sexes: Cut off from your businesses and studies so much as that charge requires, yea, think that charge to be the best study and busi­nesse. Matters of most consequence exe­cute your self, the lesser commit to others: and as oft as you can, visit your sweet children with your paternall eye, now also serving for the maternall. And look upon the great supporters of your House, your most gracious King, by whom your dili­gence and trust are well tried, and there­fore well esteemed; Your honourable em­ployment, your estate vertuously acquired, your kindred, alliance, friends, flourishing and prosperous. You see if any accession shall be made unto your labour, how great comforts are given you aforehand. More­over, that very labour will decrease under your hand, whenas every one of your children shall ripen in years, so he will succeed into the care both of himself and the rest. But how little of justice there is in your complaint of this burthen, you may even hereby understand. Had your [Page 26] Wife left you a house empty of children, I beleeve as the custome is, you would say,

But had some Prophet, foretold before your marriage day, You shall, for many years have a happy and peaceable en­joyment of your wife, only you know one of you must needs outlive the o­ther: this indulgence shall be yielded to the more tender sex, that she may not mourn for you. Choose whether you please, by her and after her to be called Father, or no. You would have an­swered, I doubt not, Let me have, when I can have her no longer, O let me have some living images of her, and successors of our common fortunes.

Well then, what is it that compels you, or I may say, permits you to grieve? Your wife? But she is blessed. A wi­dowers state which is imposed on you? The single life hath adventured at all times to compare it self with wedlock, in point of felicity. Children? You would not be without them; if you [Page 27] were childlesse, you would be more sor­rowfull. And do you now grieve be­cause you are not childlesse? It is great morosity, to accuse and complain of every fortune. But if this discourse may seem too rigid and severe, I will be a lit­tle more remisse, and grant that some adversity is befallen you; yet will I there­by evince, that you have reason to re­joyce. That the power and the wisdom of God are unlimited, we do all acknow­ledge. Hence it follows, nothing can happen without his knowledge who is omniscient, without his permission who is omnipotent. Whatsoever he either doth or permitteth, he hath good rea­son for it. God hath care of all things, but not equally, because they are not equall. According to the severall de­grees of things, there be degrees of Providence. He governs with a more carefull hand the affairs of men, then of inferiour creatures. And among all mankinde, he hath a nearer inspection over Kings, and other Rulers of the Na­tions, who are, as it were, earthly stars, from whose influence either the tem­pests of warre, or the calms of peace descend upon the people. But above all, most dear unto that supream Goodnesse [Page 28] are faithfull Christians. The divine pleasure is, that Kingdoms themselves should be serviceable to them: and in all constitutions through the whole world, they are favoured with a sin­gular respect. Therefore, even those things are for them, which seem against them: according to that immutable de­cree, All things fall out for the best to those that purely worship God. Nor may we wonder, if God keeps them not de­licately but under discipline. This is a fathers part. Either they must be purged by some sharp and nimble medi­cine, if they have contracted any con­tagion from the multitude with whom they converse; or, before the disease take hold upon them, the souls health must be preserved by some wholsome, though bitter, potion; or else, the soul­dier of God is to be proved by encoun­tring with an enemy, that himself may perceive, and others may not be igno­rant what a proficient he is. Matters of difficulty are provided for the exer­cise and illustration of every vertue. God hath alwaies set godly men to such a task: but he justly exacteth more from Christian men, who by the very ensign of the Cross are given to under­stand, [Page 29] upon what terms they are ad­mitted into service. The chief Captain himself having made his way to heaven by patience, and struggled through ma­ny sufferings, hath consecrated the same way for us. The souldier that is not called forth into any danger, may fear, his Commander holds him in small esteem. And who would not couragi­ously descend into that combate, where­in there is a certain reward for him that conquers, and certain conquest for him that fights? For he that is the Rewar­der, is also a Helper, he shews the crown, he supplieth arms. Nor need we excuse our selves by pretence of weaknesse. The most equal Arbiter and Judge of the field, doth so fitly match every combatant, that he calleth forth none to fight, but whom he knows able or will make so. He can no more deny his heavenly aid to the man that praies aright, then a loving and wealthy father can deny bread to his son, that asketh it when he is hungry. How many of the old Philosophers, how many also of a lower rank, having but ordinary encouragements and supports, have sub­dued Sorrow? and shall we, who are nei­ther destitute of the use of reason, nor of the succours of good learning, and besides [Page 30] are assured of that excellent and peculiar aid from heaven, turn our back and yield to any calamity how great soever? That can become no man, and you least of all, most honoured Sir, you are ad­vanced to an eminent place, where you shine both by your own light, and by that which you borrow from the Majesty of your King. Whatsoever you do is con­spicuous, and goes into example. Let it be hereafter said; Bear your wifes death as Maurier did. Nor may you fear be­ing suspected for to have loved your wife lesse, if you mourn lesse. Keep her vertues in your memory, deliver them to your children, and as you can by ingenuous and glorious monuments propagate them to posterity. These are truer Tokens of your love, then to do what she would not have you. Among all nations the Wills of the deceased are sacred and inviolate, and not only such as are declared in word, or committed to writing, but also if by probable arguments we can conjecture what their wills were. You are not ig­norant what her will was, and what she desires now, if in that place of rest there be any care of our affairs; to wit, that you may pass the remainder of your life with greatest felicity, and never think on [Page 31] her but with a quiet, and (if it may be) a joyfull minde. The same you must sup­pose to be the Kings pleasure, whom it concerns, that both in body and minde you may be strong and healthy. To add any more might seem to proceed from a diffidence of your wisdom and courage. What I have said, how much better could you say to your self? and so, I hope, you nave done. It would be a joy to me to have performed my duty, and that you needed it not. Nor will it be unplea­sant to you, to be assured of your friends fidelity by the succours offered, although your victory atchieved, sooner then was hoped, hath made them of no use.

Lupisten, 11 Calend. Mar. An. 1621.