HAving been at so much cost and care to set you fairly out, to act your part upon the stage of this the present world; I was consulting what might be further done, to give assistance to your fair come off. And now ob­serving that you were gone out from under the obumbrage of the Fathers wing, when counsel was at hand as each occasion did present it self, and yet ex­posed to a standing much more slip­pery, through the great store of power­ful temptations; I thought it meet to send you up a stock of such well-tried advice as might serve as a panoply, from whence to fetch supplies, as your occasions should impose a need.

And though some Fathers, and of them some persons of great Note, have undertook to give advice unto their Sons; whose works in that kind are yet extant; and therefore this may seem [Page 4]more needless; yet there's not any (that I know of) hath stoopt so low, to give advice to an Apprentice, but did direct their thoughts to such a pitch, as lay not in the level of the greatest part of persons; to whom advice was not less needful. However, you'll find here some store of things not touched by their observation, and such as when experimented, will be approv'd to need your wariness, and caution. But what concerns you most, is not the Doctrine, but the Use; for 'tis not hard to give good Counsel, but to take it. Green Heads are apt to think themselves the wisest; but that were strange, when as our wisdome (for the most part) is bought by experience, and young men are too young to make an ample pur­chase. You have this advantage then, to have that stock, which hath been traded for by elder years, and those too exercised not in a few concerns: adde these unto your own, and you may be as wise, as if you had already lived some more years.

If this care for you turn not to ac­count, I'm sure the error will be found your own; and if that hereby you're [Page 5]not made the wiser, your follies will be more without excuse. But I shall pro­secute these my designs contrived for your benefit, with my uncessant pray­ers, that God would ever do you good, and be your sure and everlasting Guide. For as our Actions should be all done for his Glory; so should our enterprizes be all undertaken with the expectance and invocation of the divine assistance. Therefore as in the disposing of our affairs, respect should be had by us that we may be serviceable to God in our Generations; so should our eyes be up unto him for his blessing on us in those affairs, whose overflowing hand doth blast them, or else make them flourish; the one or other even as he pleaseth. And it should be our most important care, that we so live, as that by our ini­quity we give no cause that he should bring a curse on us and our endeavours.

The first thing therefore which I have to recommend to you, is Religion to­wards God; by which notion I do chief­ly understand, All care to save a mans own Soul: for it seems an apparent ir­rationality, there to design the provi­dent management of the affairs of this [Page 6]present life, where a man is utterly regardless of those much more impor­tant concernments of a better. And if the Child in the womb had but the same resentments of the life here, as we have of that which is to come, 'twould be esteemed strange, if it should be more thoughtful for its easie lying the nine moneths there, than its comfortable li­ving (it may be) an hundred years here. And much more gross is our vanity and madness, in the neglect of those things which are not seen, which are eternal; when we only care for those things which are seen, which are tem­poral. But it is not my design here, to give you directions in this business, that would swell this little Manual into too great a Bulk; and there are almost in­numerable pious labours of Learned men who have largely treated on this subject. But there is one main thing, which is in truth much wanting every where, which I have chiefly here to mind you of, to wit,

That you be serious in the matter of Religion: for he that is serious, thought­ful of those affairs, according to that vast concernment that is in them, will [Page 7]not be much to seek in the expedients tending thither; yet let me set before you two or three things by way of cau­tion.

Do not busie your self much about the Controversal part of Religion, for that ingenders strife, rather than edify­ing; and makes a man rather busily in­quisitive, than usefully practical. Faith and good works they are the things wherein a man can never unprofitably, never too abundantly be imployed. And the truth is, 'ts no hard matter for the talk of Religion, to supplant the pra­ctice of it; nor for a man to speak hand­somely of that, which he will never do; and like Seneca, to praise poverty, whilest he heaps up millions. 'Tis infi­nitely better to be conscientiously pra­ctising the plain truths we know, than curiously disputing about those things we know not; rather walking in the good old way of manifest holiness, than in the new affected way of disputed de­votion.

Do not espouse any opinion, faction, or way of men, to be led by them one step farther, than the clear conviction of thine own judgment doth conduct [Page 8]thee. For how great indiscretion is it to be hurried by the whirl of others mo­tion, into those precipices, whirl depth and dangers thine own considerate foresight did not first sound? And how great an injury is it to that Reason which God hath given us, to subject our Understanding to the Sense of o­thers, & jurare in verba Magistri, and like silly sheep to bounse into no small inordinateness, only because we saw some great Ram leap in before us? And verily 'twould vex one, to see those who do design to draw disciples after them, to lead a crew of Gulls into no small puddles, by having obtained the repute of being no meanly understand­ing Ganders. For how many hens do we dayly see, following that Cock, who hath had the confidence to crow stout­ly on his own dung-hill; out of dan­ger of having his right disputed by the dint of Weapon?

I confess it hath been no impolitick way to wealth and promotion, to be a stout abettor of the prevailing faction, and great assertor of the opinion in fashion.

And we need not go far for examples [Page 9]of those, who by this gale have prospe­rously sailed to desired Dignities. But if the Apostle make it a small matter, to give carnal things in exchange for spi­ritual; surely 'tis abominable Traffick to give our spiritual things for carnal, and abet opinions to fill our purses, not better our Souls.

But besides, 'tis seldome but God takes these wise in their own craftiness, and brings such a turn which throws them out of Dignities shamefully, who brought themselves in hypocritically.

Never ingage so far in any opinion, or way, as to suffer for it, without the clear conviction of thine own Con­science, that it is thy duty so to do. For though there be a glory in suffering, overballancing to some humors the loss and smart which accompanies it; and though there be much in a preoccupa­ted judgment that we do well in suffer­ing, especially when we are clap't on the back, and incouraged by those who abet the opnion: Though thus (I say) when in hot blood, and in the glo­ry of the business, it was not hard to appear gallant in some herce incounters; yet when the wounds are stark, the [Page 10]spectators gone, and thou left in thy solitudes, and become serious, believe me, thy spirit will be intolerably dull, if it be not serened with a conscience testifying from manifest truth, that thou hast suffered according to the will of God.

But further, under this notion of Religion I have to recommend to you all acts of Devotion and service to­wards God; all care to give unto him the inward adoration of the heart, and the outward worship which is well-pleasing in his sight. And this advice is the more necessary, because the greatest part of persons among us, such as are not factiously devout, are irreligiously profane. For from the one extreme, the most of men are run unto the o­ther; contenting themselves with the name of Christians, and nothing but the name. In which respect (I think) they are not matcht by any generation of people in the world beside. For whereas every Nation acknowledgeth some God which they worship after their manner, with a zealous devotion, even to the prodigal expending of their very lives; how many are there among [Page 11]us, which have not so much as a shew of Religion, not any Duty performed to God in their Families, not any in­vocation of his name, unless in cursed Blasphemy and Oaths? And that wherein custome hath so much pre­vailed, that it is a shame not to do it; (I mean giving of thanks at meat) what affected brevity is design'd, as if they intended rather a scoff of the Di­vine Majesty, than otherwise? As for the attendance upon the Publike service, verily that is as to a Play, more than ought else, doing meerly what the Poet saith Women came for to the Theatres, Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae: the ends of most, at those di­vine imployments, being to shew their own braveries, or see that of o­thers; and the most exact account which they there take of any thing, is the new fashion.

But do thou, in thy attendance upon Divine Worship, say, as Jacob of Bethel, How dreadful is this place! and remem­ber the greatness of tha [...] God, who hath professed himself to be a jealous God, and therefore most observant what manner of Addresses thou makest [Page 12]to him; doing the duty thou art en­gaged in with all thy might; as well knowing that that God who requireth thou shouldest love him with all thy heart, expecteth that thou shouldest apply thy self to his service, with the most united intention of all thy facul­ties.

And though the Apostle saith, that we should pray [...], with­out ceasing, the heart being always in a frame of calling upon God, and in a continual desire and expectance of supplies from him, in whom all our springs are; Yet our solemn applica­tions unto him, in hearing him speak to us, or our speaking to him, should be with that fear and reverence, as suits with his infinite and incompre­hensible greatness. And as our hearing of his Word read or preached, should be not as of the sound of words, but with observation of the importance of the sense: So should our calling upon him, not be the inconsiderate & formal mumbling over a parcel of prayers; but with that faith, affection, and earnest desire, as may approve thee to be other­wise than a vain babler.

Neither is Religion onely of great use as to the advantages of the world to come, but also to the concernments of this present life: the Grace of God which bringeth Salvation, teaching us not only to live godly, but also righ­teously, and soberly.

Now as I have made it my care to dispose you to such a Master, as hath a good report of all men, and I hope of the truth it self, that he is an honest good man, and able in his way; from whom you will receive dayly examples of the exercise of vertue; and who, as he will expect the duty of a servant from you, in your service of him; so I know he will perform the duty of a Master to you, in your government and instruction: So it behooves you now to answer the end that was designed in your being so disposed of, and so to take care to be a servant now, as that you may be a Master hereafter. To which end, it is not a little conducing, to come off the Stage with the clear ap­plause of having acted the part of a servant well: for he that is turnished whit that report, goes a great way in [Page 14]the second part (I mean) the setting up for himself.

He that will thus come off, must be much imployed in the exercise of those vertues, which greatly tend to the ob­taining a good name; and the first of these we may say is Veracity.

For not to speak how great a sin it is by a lie to deny the God of truth, and his omniscience who knoweth all things; It is not to be imagined, how great a disrepute is thereby contracted. For we thereby not onely make our selves the scorn of those that do disco­ver us, but deprive our selves of that belief, which we might expect from those which do not. The liar rendring himself perpetually suspected, and even then when speaking truth not believed.

Neither shall you find the liar any wise answered in that design of excu­sing himself, which he proposeth: For besides that it argues much profaneness to back one sin with another, and make recompence for what was ill done the first time, with doing ill the second; it seldom proves, but that the falshood is discovered, and what might at first be easily pardoned, upon a fair con­fession, [Page 15]is made the subject of a severe animadversion, by a repeated guiltiness, And in very deed, it is very seldom. but that a soft answer, and confession, obtains the dismission of that offender, whom a lve would have detained unto a future judgment.

Fidelity is another virtue so essenti­ally necessary in this design, that to sup­pose a good servant without it, were to make a man without reason. Let it be therefore your principal care to keep your hand undefiled from the touch of whatsoever you cannot justly call your own. Neither let any opportunity, or probability of concealment ever tempt you to lay your fingers on that, which your conscience tells you not, is war­rantably yours. For a bird of the air will tell the matter, and what is so unrigh­teously detained, must either be with shame refunded, or (which is worse) with impenitency kept, to the trea­suring up of wrath against the day of wrath. Besides observe, how great an happiness it is to be bold-faced in the conscience of our own integrity in this behalf; when like Moses and Samuel, we are able to present a challenge to the [Page 16]whole world, if they can charge our hands with any thing that is theirs.

But it concerns you also, to have no confederacy with any that have clam­my hands; no nor any connivence: for it is not the least part of fidelity to those who do entrust us, to be as their eyes, and ears, to prevent all injurious encroachments. And 'tis easie to con­jecture, how great a conducement one trusty servant is, to the stifling the en­terprises, and throwing water upon the gun-powder of those evil designes, whereby unfaithful Servants abuse their Masters, and sometimes even blow up their estates.

There is another sort of Fidelity, though not of that consequence, yet not less acceptable to those who shall imploy you; when you shall be faith­ful to their reputations, not onely a­voiding all reports and speeches which may cast upon them any the least blem­ish; but at all times interposing your self in their vindication, against the obloquy of those, who may traduce them.

And verily, as to ingenious spirits, nothing is more dear, than their repu­tations: [Page 17]so is there not any thing which endears a servant to such Masters more, than when he shall be overheard, either refuting such calumnies whereby their good name was endangered, or giving the most favourable interpretation to those just allegations to which their weakness, or oversight, might render them obnoxious.

Temperance is the next which here comes to be mentioned; a virtue of that expediency, that scarce any bu­siness is readily done without it: for he who wants this moderator, and too deeply drencheth himself in that which is too much, is like a man run­ing in boots, unfit for any imploy­ment. For which cause Solomon saith, The sluggard shall be cloathed with rags, because he cryes, Yet a little more sleep, a little more slumber. And truely it is not hard to declame against the in­temperate use of sleep, it being indeed, as it were, the abatement of our life, and as either returning us into that condition we were in in our mothers womb, or as anticipating that when in our graves; being as it were to that end ordained, to put us in mind of our [Page 18]own infirmity, and that we die dayly. To be sure, we do not onely deprive our selves of so much of our lives, as is thus unnecessarily disposed; but we do also cut off from our selves so much of opportunity to dispatch our affairs, as is by us this way intemperately ex­pended.

In both which respects of Health and Wealth, we may also advise you from intemperance in meats and drink; be­ing such, as most certainly decayes the body, and consumes the purse. Excess in these, being not onely a pleasurable evil, whereby we cut our own throats with no small delight, and put out na­tural heat, with throwing on too much fuel. But it is also a costly vanity, the dainty tooths of some, corroding so far into their estates, as to reach the very vitals; and one mouth being more than enough for six pair of hands. For what would supply a temperate recti­fied appetite with what is wholsome, at the price of a few pence, will not allay the itch of one luxurious, with what it shall think toothsome, at as many pounds: the one intending the satisfying of hunger (which when it is [Page 19]done finds an end) the other like the itch of scabby parts, the more it is scratched, the more desires it. And this caution deserves your greater care, being in a City which abounds with fulness of bread; whither all the dain­ties of the Kingdome have their con­fluence; and excess in eating is ushered in with the greatest solemnity and a­bundance (I believe) of any place in the world besides. The delights of Asia, so much talked of, as the enervating poison heroick Spirits; being but as Kick­shawes to those excesses which the pre­sent luxury hath excogiated; wherein the design, seems by repeated prorita­ments, to deal by stomacks, as Cock-masters by their fainting duellists, hold them up, that cannot stand of themselves, to a fresh encounter.

And though this excess of eating may be as hurtful to the body, and consumptive to the purse; yet it is not in many respects so pernicious, as that of drink; which by a sad fatality proves a deluge to Reason, and com­monly brings with it a floud of those debaucheries, which render us the scorn of children, and detestation of [Page 20]sober men. And though I want not reasons of the highest remark, yet ve­rily I want words to importune you to a just abhorrency of so great a mis­chief, whereby we unman our selves of the reason God hath given us, like swine wallowing in our own vomits; and rendering our selves both the fitted instruments of every iniquity, and un­capable of any good counsel which might prevent us. As therefore your inclination now doth stand averse to this vice, so let me adjure you, by all that is dear and sacred, that you con­tinue at the greatest distance from it.

Here also let me put in a caution against intemperance and fantastickness in Apparel; wherein this Nation is so immoderate, that they are most witty how to be most antick. 'Tis not rare to see those persons exposed like owls, to the ridiculous wonder of sober men, strut along, as if they drew after them the admiration, and not the laughter of those that see them; when pitiful souls, they are the Ignes fatui, which in­telligent men follow with their scorn, and usually expire in the silly imperti­nencies of their own vanity. And [Page 21]therefore expensiveness in Apparel, is certainly as great a foolery, as men are guilty of; when at huge rates, they purchase those things, for which they are no more valued, than a fore-horse for his feather. For if Apparel be be­yond the Estate, the onely esteem you get thence, is of a prodigal fool; if but equal to it, you have that esteem without it. For you may observe, that the value which we set upon persons (beside that due to the endowments of their mind) is according to their Ren­tals; and he that hath an ample reve­nue, shall be respected, however plainly clad: when a fine fellow without, by those that know him, shall have no more esteem, than a poor rascal on a Stage, though in the array of a Prince: and he that came in to King Henry the Eighth with an hundred tenements on his back, sold to make him brave, would have had twice as many hats off the next Term, if he had had the rent of them in his purse. It is therefore wisdom to be neat, not gallant; and to wear such apparel as may shew you are not sor­did, and neglect your self; not such as may make your purse look thin through [Page 22]the cost, nor your judgement censured for the vanity.

What comes next to be laid before you, is the art of Silence; of no mean consideration in the quietness of your life, and advantage of your affairs. And therefore as in general, that talk­ative humour should be avoided, which exposeth a man very much to the censure of others, it being very difficult to talk much and well: the Greek Adage being true, [...], much speaking is not without much folly. Neither is it a little hard, so to manage that slippery instrument, as that something shall not thence escape, which may be re­torted to your prejudice, especially if persons be talked of whom you cannot commend without envy, nor dispraise without danger. Every one being smartly sensible of the stroak of the tongue; and none being so ready to a­mend for being beaten, as to be re­venged of the beater.

But 'tis especially dangerous to speak any thing in the disparagement of Wo­mens Beauty, or Honour; for they are naturally waspish Creatures, and [Page 23]apt to take pet; and by how much the more feeble, the more prone to revenge those things, which an elated magnani­mity would overlook, as too inferiour a mark. Through the consciousness of which imbecility, they lay their de­signs close, and prosecute their mean concerns with more extreme revenges, than you can easily imagine: being sure to do that at the first cast, which they are ever in fear will not be effected by an after-game; and are fully taught that policie, to shoot with Bullets, and not Hail-shot; and level their blow at the head, and not the heel. Doing their business too, after the Italian mode; so that though their disgusts, like that of Juno's upon the arbitrement of Paris, manetalta mente repostum, yet it shall not break forth till you are se­cur'd; like the cannon giving the blow, after the mark is torn in pieces. There­fore you may observe in all story no Vindicts so transcendent as those of women, clear particularly in Overburies Case, whom no indearments could ransome from being a Victime of Fe­minine rage. Neither shall you find any thing of a more dire immanity than [Page 24]the Parisian Nuptials on Bartholomew-Eve; which yet were hatcht under a French-Hood, and not a Helmet: for which cause those Fathers of Inven­tion represented all the Furies under the notion of women, and expresly ordered, that Erinnys should be foe­minci gencris. Neither is it a farthing matter, whether what you have said, be true or no; unless by how much the truer, by so much the more biting: it being with them, as the Historian said of Nero, Quae facere gaudebat, au­dire gravabatur, their principal art be­ing that of concealment; and therefore they hate no dog so much, as the blood­hound.

But this is not to be understood ge­nerally; for there are of that Sex, very many, whose sentiments are suitable to the delicacy of their constitutions, being as innocent and harmless, as the most gentle Turtles, whose purer souls know nothing of sin, more than what cannot be avoided by common infirmity; and therefore, sweet creatures, are without any thing of gall; and are far from thoughts of revenge, because they can think none so ill, as to deserve an ill [Page 25]thought of them. To speak any thing which might, though but obliquely, reflect upon such as these, were an impi­ety not to be expiated by the most sub­missive acknowledgments. But there are besides these, those whose hearts are branded with blackest Characters, by frequent commissions steeling their Consciences to the perpetration of those villanies, which 'tis their greatest art to cover over with a different ap­pearance; to which end they rack their curious wits (without doubt the most sublimated of any intelligence be­low that of Spirits) to the greatest keenness, in inventing expedients to hide that, which they fear not to commit; but hate should be known, and therefore prosecute with as cruel spite him that should pretend a disco­very, as if you had undertaken the publick unplaistering of a painted face.

But you are very much to be care­ful, not to discover the concerns of that family wherein you live, for every mans house is his Castle, and should be as his Cabinet; whence nothing should be divulg'd but by his permissi­on. [Page 27]In the reason of which we have so many examples, even of some slaves, who have endured the extremest tor­tures, rather than discover their Ma­sters secrets. Neither is it any wise fit to babble of those things which you may possibly conceive are of in­considerable moment; for he that will indiscreetly tell any thing, is ever suspected that he will tell every thing. And they that have some truth from your mouth to begin upon, will thereon build such superstructure, as is proportionable to their own imagi­nations: all which they stamp cur­rant and passable upon the credit of that truth which you at first re­ported.

But especially let what is com­mitted to you as a secret, be lockt up by you in an inclosure, not to be o­pened, but by the key of him that gave it. For most intolerable is that va­nity, which leaks out into the next company what was committed by his friend, or is easily drawn in to disco­ver what was so entrusted; for no man but vilifies that person in his own estimate, who is loose-bodied upon [Page 27]that account; and judges him a con­temptible spunge, whom he finds facile to be squeez'd out of what he was so charg'd with.

And here you may also take notice, how expedient it is not to be talkative of such designes, as are in your thoughts, of bargains to buy, or busi­ness to do; for thereby you give great occasion for others to prevent you, if they judge it worth the while: and those who come under the reach of your projects, are thereby alarmed to circumvent you, and defend them­selves; and 'tis no small advantage in every affair, to take those we are to deal with unprovided. For which cause the late Usurpers did represent their great concerns as already done, rather than to be done; and there was no talk of what they purposed, till 'twas effected. And you may observe, that the sly Fox who silently snaps his prey, shall alone troble the number, that a crew of babbling Beagles shall get by their out-cry: and 'tis your close lads who commonly effect those businesses, which your great talkers can never compass.

Know also, that though there be a natural proneness to boast of our own abilities; yet he is very unwise that talks of them, or of his own arts. For 'tis one of the greatest parts of cunning, to endeavour not to be thought so: and he that proclaims his own skill, beats the Drum to the alarming those he hath to do with; and summons every man to come well provided to deal with him, that declares he goes always furnished with a sword and Buckler. And 'tis the only be­nefit that an opinion of our wit and nimbleness begets us, that we are con­fronted with that resolution which lies immoveable on its own basis; or like an Hedg-hogg, shews nothing to the teeth of our art, but its sharp prickles.

Nor is it fit to talk of our expectances, nor of our hope of such successes, which depend upon the good will of others, which are set in lubrico; and if we fall from such hopes so discovered, we fall as much in our reputations, as if our casuality had been real; and expose our selves as much to the derision of others. And such imaginary disap­pointments [Page 29]are not seldom retorted on us, as the true returns of our own un­worthiness: and 'tis but a just confi­dence that others take in this kinde to deny us, when they see us so rich in hopes, but not so in performance. However, he that antedates his own en­joyments, and pre-occupies them in his discourses, doth truely according to the Proverb, Reckon his chicken before they are hatcht; And, Sell the bears skin ere it be caught.

But be warily silent in all such things as are bandyed in difference between others: for he that blows the coals in others strifes, shall be sure to have the sparks fly in his mouth. It being hard to make even such an amicable interposition as shall not ad­mit of a sinister interpretation. All men almost being led by their passions and prejudices, and their own inte­rest; and scarce a man that will weigh his own cause in the ballan­ces of Justice. And therefore you will be necessitated in such cases either to deny your own reason, and be tow­ed about at the pleasure of others, or [Page 30]expose your self to the disgusts of those, who judge of your sentiments, not by the truth and reason of them, but by their own passions.

But it is vilely odious to be an in­strument by incentive relations to add fuel to the animosities of dissenting parties, and be a tale-bearer to keep up that fewd, which might otherwise expire through want of nourishment. For beside that such practices usually prove pernicious, and they that deal in them, as it were, hold a fox by the ears, and seldom part without a snap, or a scratch, if not worse: It is the Devils work to blow the coal of dis­sention; and on the contrary, the peace-makers are reckoned a part a­mong the seven Beatitudes.

'Tis therefore every ones duty to bury all corroding language in eternal oblivion: and it will be your wisdom to have your tongue dipt in Oyl al­ways, in Vinegar never: I mean, not to convey any such relations as shall have a bitterness in them; nor give any such answers in your own cause, which shall not be lenitive. For how much a soft answer pacifieth wrath, I [Page 31]believe you need not look back upon antient examples, how thereby Gideon quieted the Ephraimites, or Abigail David, when Nabals churlish answer had not a little incensed him; your own occasions will give you experi­ence enough of this nature: neither will there need much to perswade you, if in such occurrents you consult your reason, and not your passion. For the truth is, it is a foolish praefractoriness that cannot stoop to a submission; and 'tis surely no less then madness to think that what was ill done by casual over-sight, will be made amends for by a stubborn reply.

And here 'twill not be impertinent to advise you to be of a meek and calm conversation, by no means apt to take pet at matters of less moment, for such captious persons are like the weather­cock, which every winde disturbs, and disposes into a different Aspect; by which, as they contract no small dis­quietness to themselves, so they be­come very unacceptable to others. But where there is just cause given, 'tis much better to let the wasps alone, then by contending with them to bring a [Page 32]swarm about your ears: Yet much more inconvenient is it to be a man of strifes, and to study occasions to quarrel with others; so that none can come neer you without a collar of prickles. For by that means you'll be lookt upon as a fire in all companies, who make ready the hearth of a dry burnt discourse for your entertainment, and set out of the way, as too com­bustible to come neer you, what is free and debonair.

And besides too, such tempers, by their frequent collision, do strike fire out of those flints, where otherwise none would have appeared, and raise up enemies out of that dust, which if not stir'd, would never have flown in their eyes.

But it is an hundred times better to studie the good will of all, rather then to make an enemy of any; and to be of that obliging spirit, as to gain the affection of every one (except, as Taci­tus saith of Sejanus) Quorum voluntas non nisi scelere quaeritur: Whose kind­ness is to be had not but by a consoci­ation in wickedness. For there is not a Creature so contemptible, which may [Page 33]not be something beneficial, and whose friendship may not be rather valuable then its enmity. And therefore kind­nesses done meet with requitals many times beyond what could be expected; and 'tis a story well known, That he who prov'd a Chirurgion to the lame Ly­on, had his life afterwards saved by the same Lyon.

And verily, how far a constant affa­bility prevails for the gaining of men, make trial, and you'll finde: for daily experience shews, that we make those creatures our play-fellowes, which are mansuete and gentle; but keep at a distance those, which are fierce and cruel: and the surly grim Mastiff lyes without doors, when we make a Lapdog of him tha tis affa­ble.

What I have next to advise you to, is, the practice of Frugality, a virtue expedient for all, but chiefly for you, who like the Silk-worm, must sp n your riches out of your own boson, having such mean expectations of helps from abroad. That that I have to leave you, being but little at the [Page 34]most; and if I had much, and you be­ing the eldest, might challenge the greatest share, yet there are nine be­sides, and a possibility of more, which must all be furnished out into the world as well as you: and well 'twill be, if God give me life and ability to do that. So that the case stands with you, as in Military affairs, where 'tis running but once, and no hopes of your ever rallying, if you be once routed. I have furnished you into the way that you are in, not onely ac­cording to my power, but in truth be­yond it; therefore if you shipwrack now, conclamatum est. Be careful then to play your fore-game well, for an after-game will have no place with you; and such wit will be but Phrygian wisdom, where they are wise too late. There will be no hopes of a second setting forth, if your first miscarry. And in truth, no man takes that course, but goes upon great disadvan­tages. For like those who intend to sow Corn on woody grounds, not on­ly exercise that Husbandry which is common to every [...]rop, but also [...]id out of the way with much labour those [Page 35]bushes and rubbish which cumber the the Land: So you will finde your self not onely to colluctate with those difficulties which usually occur in every designe, but also with those preju­dices which every one will take up, upon your first miscarriage; and you'll finde it much more hard to repair a credit once impaired, then to keep that in a flourishing greenness which was never blasted.

Be sure therefore to go out into the world like a sheet of clean paper, where no blurs or scribblements are to be discern'd; but let your reputation be like that Virgin purity, not stain'd with any thing which may render you suspected to the time to come. For that is the best frugality which is spa­ring of our credit, which can never be custodited with too great jealousie, nor expended but with the greatest loss. Nor yet think that credit which is gotten with the expence of mony, un­less God shall so bless you, as that it should be a shame to you not to be No­ble: For he that expects repute, ha­ving a good estate, by being sparing, is like the man who would bring his [Page 36]horse to live with nothing; so he that would get credit by spending high, whilst his Estate is low, doth but blow a Bladder, which will burst with a stink. And be sure of this, that the first step to reputation (next to do vir­tuously) is to have something: and therefore lay out no money, but what necessity extorts, or such conveniencie as will be sure to return with a good Cargo: For observe the old Rule, that A penny sav'd is two pence got; and the way to much is by a little, for the greatest sum which can be imagined, was begun in a penny; and 'tis worth your minding, how much he had for his horse, who sold him but for an half-penny a nail doubled.

And therefore be skill'd in that part of Arithmetick, which is Addition, and not Substraction: for when there is an inclination to take out, and you think 'tis but a small matter; consider how many dry blows the poor Coun­try-man gives, to earn no more in an whole day, to sustain his Family with bread, then thou squanderest away on thy sweet tooth, or thy vanity.

And take notice, that as the most [Page 37]ample Structure had but one [...] at the first, a corner-stone at the beginning: So be certain, that an estate is casilyer propagated from something, though never so small, then from nothing; and he that hath one shilling, may much sooner get five, then he a penny, who hath not one farthing. Therefore that Grasier who left behinde him some thousands of yearly Revenue, took care to save when he was a poor Drover so much, as bought a Calf to begin with. And you may observe, there is still the same proportion from saving a little to make it more; and he that is not fru­gal in what is small, no wise deser­veth to be trusted with much.

But this is of especial consideration, if you shall be intrusted with the keeping of your Masters Cash: For on that look with as jealous an eye, as you would do on a plague-sore, if a thought come in your minde of im­ploying one penny of it for your own use. For know, all that is there must be accounted for; and 'twill be ten to one oddes between the easiness of ta­king out, and of returning it back a­gain.

A very fit Partner for Frugality, is Industry; That what is by sparing saved, may be with diligence improved; and what is so improved, be again spared. For frugality alone is but sin­gle getting; but joyned with indu­stry, is double: like those beams of the Sun, which by a repercussion from the earth, make that heat not to be indured, which would be hardly warmth other­wise. And there, where much cannot be done at once, diligence effects it by degrees, producing by a frequent repetition as great an heat, as more vast abilities but less active. And it hath been observed, that it is not less gainful to Navigate in a small Vessel, which makes quick and frequent re­turns, then in that which returns but seldom, though deeply laden. There­fore the wise Solomon directs the sluggard to go to the Bee and Ant; which infirm creatures plainly shew how much the assiduity of an indu­strious labour can effect. And verily 'tis an ill homour, when because our means suit not with our ends, we will not pursue those ends, which suit with our means; and because we cannot do [Page 39]what we will, we will not do what we can; depriving our selves of what is within our power, because we cannot do the things that are above our power: When indeed that's the way to do much more then we can, by doing the many littles that we are able.

And this industry truely effects things beyond our own expectations, when we are not discouraged by dissi­culties, but incited; and throw not up the business as desperate, because not pre­sently pervious. And let me tell you, of all tempers there's none more to be avoided, the edge of whose activity is soon abated: for they vilely despond at those things as impossible, which a more tough diligence doth easily su­perate. For which cause, when the Historian had reckon'd up the many difficulties and dangers which Cosmus that first Duke of Etruria had to coun­flict with, in his Infant-government; he concludes with this Epiphonema: Haec omnia alioqui inexpugnabilia Cosmus patientia & industria sua facile vicit. And verily 'tis no wise the part of a man, succumbere difficultatibus, and give up the Set, because the Cards prove [Page 40]cross, but by a generous antiperistasis, be hottest in our prosecutions, when the coldest air blows on our designs; and like true Spur-nags, amniti clivo, strain hardest against the Hill; or like Thunder, tear it there most, where we meet with the sturdiest and most rug­ged Oak. You need never fear but even the tallest Cedar will fall at your foot, to whose root you applyed in­cessant strokes. On which considera­tion I was much taken with his device, who plac'd for his Impress a pair of Compass's, with this Motto, Constan­tia & labore; the one foot being fixt, the other in motion.

Besides, let me tell you, that nothing shall conciliate to you more friends, while you are a servant, then an indu­dustrious officiousness, whilst you are ready to do what the looks and nods of others intimate that they have a minde to: For as we love mettle in Brute creatures, and take delight when Dogs or Horses shew their ready mo­tion at our whistle or chirrup; so there's nothing we take more pleasure in, then a diligent and willing servant: for he merits no thanks that doth what [Page 41]he is bidden, which otherwise would be exacted; but we set an estimate on him, as exceeding our expectations, who by his readiness, as it were, anti­cipates our commands.

Neither let it molest thee, to do those services which are mean, if they be honest: For there is nothing vile, but what is wicked; nor cause to be asha­med of that, which is not facinorous. In the sense of which, we finde Fabri­tius, that illustrious Roman, then tend­ing his own Gridiron, when the Sam­nite Ambassadors came to petition him for peace. And the truth is, 'tis the meer effect of our pride and vanity, that we stamp those things as dede­corous, which are good: for bonum & honestum are terms convertible; and the Philosopher defines that honestum, quod honore dignum est. Hence it is that very slight persons among us scorn to put their hands to that, which former­ly Kings Daughters made not dainty of. And you may take notice that she is set out to us as skill'd in Cooke­ry, whose Brother was Solomon in all his glory: but this is the abjectness of the age we live in, that idleness [Page 42]is an ornament, and the greatest Genti­lity is to do nothing; when as 'tis action onely that is noble; and not on­ly the Celestial bodies are in continual motion, but he that is most high, is purissimus actus.

The next principal consideration wherein your care is requisite, is the choice of your Company, wherein e­very person receives as great an allay, both in his reputation and disposition, as waters which pass through Minerals do, in their tastes and operations: For we see it common, for the world to judge what men are by their familia­rities. And that it should be so, de­pends upon the most natural reason: for we see that all things avoid that which is heterogeneous; and not onely Ani­mals, but even conflated Metals eject out of their substances the less solid parts: and the liquid bodies of Water and Oyl, are as precise in their separa­tions: so that as they are all concord­ing in general principles, so are they each as schismatical in their private natures; whereby they not onely pre­serve their specifical differences, but [Page 43]prevent a confusion, and final reducti­on to their Original Choas. Hence we see that promiscuous commixtures are Monsters in Nature; and as what God hath joyned, he will have none to put asunder: so what he hath thus put a­sunder, will he that none should joyn together. And for this cause we read those Analogical injunctions, not to Plow with an Ox and an Ass, nor wear Garments of Linsey and Woolsey mixt together. I have said all this, onely to let you see, how impossible 'twill be for you to be thought a per­son of integrity, whilst you converse with those that are vitious: And this the rather, because we see that all per­sons affect such as are like themselves, or those that they may make such; and if you be neither, you either con­demn them as being different, or are condemned by them, because of your difference; and you will finde the same censure past upon you, by all that make judgement of you.

But you will also finde that the dan­ger of evil company, is not less then the discredit. In matters criminal it many times falls out, that our laws [Page 44]involve a guilt, not onely upon the principal Actors, but also upon all the company; as in matters of riot and murther. And in cases of treason even silence is capital; and in such com­pany you'll be ingaged, either to be­tray your friends life, or expose your own. Thus Jaureguius who attempt­ed the murther of the Prince of Orange, did not onely bring destruction upon himself, but on Venerus also, who though he dreaded to commit the fact, yet kept his counsel that attempt­ed it: and the discovery of the last was made meerly by observation, that he was seen keep company with the for­mer.

But this is not the greatest danger that evil company brings with it; a deeper mischief is, that it depraves the minde, and leaves that tang and filth upon the intellectuals and affections, as is not to be absters'd without much ado by better counsels. And the fata­lity of this mischief is seen by the con­tagion of it upon the purest mindes: Joseph having learn'd in Egypt to swear by the life of Pharaoh. And the natu­ral proneness that is in us to evil, makes [Page 45]us spungy to receive this unhappy tincture, and spreads the venome of it at such a rate, that there are few that finde an antidote strong enough to prevent it. And the dismal overthrows of many, coming out into the world well disposed, who have been pro­fligated hereby, ring so shrill a peal to all that are observing, as that we may well condemn him as brutish, who is not affected with it. For if you bespeak those whose fortunes are de­plored, and ask the reason why they are so, scarce one of them but shall tell you, that it was evil company that did it.

There being therefore an innate propensity in man to association; Ana­chorism being an affect rather of must and melancholy, then of choice and election: It being also a part of our belief, the Communion of Saints; which consisteth not onely in that of the spirit, but also in personal converse. And Earl Goodwyns observation of the Confessors Cup-bearer, when he stumbled with the one foot, and reco­vered himself with the other, shewing that we have need of the assistances of [Page 46]one another: For if one fall, the other shall help his fellow; but woe be to him that is alone. 'Tis not therefore the least part of our wisdom, to make choice of such company, as may be of use to us, and not an hindrance in our concerns.

It is therefore good to chuse such for your familiars, as (if otherwise well qualified) excel in their Way: for as it is a felicity by fate bestowed on some to lead the Cry in every Art and Sci­ence, and ingenious Mysterie; so there is an innate disposition in such, ad captandam laudem, to skim off the Cream of their abilities, and bestow them as a largess upon the company they converse with; by which means you may obtain those excellencies in Epitome, which they got together with much rubbish and cumber. We read therefore, that upon this account the rarer Artists of ancient time in Phi­losophy, Zography and Sculpture, thought it worth the while to under­take long and dangerous peregrination [...] into forraign parts, onely to converse with those whom fame reported to ex­cel. And without doubt these walk­ing [Page 47]Libraries are of the greatest use; and knowledge never comes in more richly fraighted, then when it sets sail from such continents. 'Tis therefore observed, that Francis the first King of France, though he came to the Crown young and unlearned; yet by his de­light in the discourses or Learned men, (whom he would always have about him) he attained so great ability, as exceeded the proportion of the most learned Princes of his time. And I my self knew a person taken raw from his studies (being chosen into the House of Commons before he was twenty one) and who from that time very much laid aside reading; yet by associating himself with the most know­ing men, contracted so great a suffici­encie, that I have heard him discourse of Philosophical and Theological con­troversies, as much to my admiration, as it was beyond what I did expect. And I also observed, that he did greatly vindicate himself from that contempt which his youth might subject him to, by his accompanying with such persons as were esteemed wise: for the world could not but conclude, that [Page 48]he either was wise, or would soon be so, whose company was such. And you will sinde this a rare advantage in conversing with knowing men, that you will have at hand those who are able to advise you, and willing too, if you be but so to take it. For there is a natural indulgence that every know­ing person hath over those that are ig­norant, which makes them willing and ready to enlarge to them the relief of good counsel, when they need it. And if counsel be the strength of King­doms, it can be of no less use in our private concerns, if God give us an heart to ask and take it: for when young men are advised by those like themselves, giddy headed, and precipi­tate (which commonly they like best, because it suits their humours) they are intangled like young Rehoboam in those incumbrances, whence they cannot explicate themselves by a too late repentance: therefore take such for your companions, who have already sow'd their wilde oats, and are by long hunting grown too stanch to set an haunt; by which means you'll reap the benefit of their dear-bought experience, and prevent your own.

But chiefly take care to fix upon such company, who are persons studious of their reputations, men not of a dirty and degenerous temper: For some there are, whom nature hath moulded up of the coursest clay; whose not onely brains represent meer rubbish, but their very dispositions are of those sordid faeces, which give a tendencie to condescend to the most ignoble and abject things; whence they'll ne­ver think much (howsoever vilely) to abuse, or betray you; when as those who are of an elate and generous spirit, have a natural reluctancie to those things which they judge un­worthy; and are hardly induc'd by the extremest necessity, to comply with that, which degenerate tempers never make dainty of.

And upon this account also, never sort your self with such persons as are below you; for as their reputations will not bear an equal ballance with yours, so must yours be as much deprest, as may make it even with theirs; and so must your expences be as much beyond your own proportion, as their quality is below that which you pretend to: and [Page 50]they will have a confidence to slip their heads out of the collar, and leave you to pay all, as if they had done you a kinde of courtesie, in acknowledging your superiority. And 'tis pretty to ob­serve how such will claw the itch of your petty ambition with such titles of dignity as they think will please you, till they have laid you in a sweat, and made your pores open, and you become melted to effund according to their hu­mour.

But above all, avoid such company as are given to drink; for with whom are wounds without cause, but with them that are mighty to drink strong drink? The drunken man being fera humana specie, and therefore such are as unfit for converse as she-Bears and Lyons, who conscious of their own ferity, walk alone; while more mansuete Creatures associate themselves in Flocks and Herds. Cli­tus slain by Alexander, and an hun­dred more examples, tell what a Devil is drink; which if it raign any where in the possessed most, it is in our own Country; where they ply their business beyond compare, and are computed to [Page 51]drink more Sack in a year, then any o­ther Nation doth in three. And though the German did bear away the Bell for drinking; yet it was rather long, then much, being content to pelt his ene­my at a distance: Whereas we are af­ter the modern way of fight, altoge­ther for down-blows, being impatient till the opposite have a total rout. The drinking of Healths too, being a de­signe like that of the servants of Da­vid and Saul at the Pool of Gibeon, where they took each other by the Beards, and every one smote his fellow under the fifth rib, that they fell down together. If therefore you love your body, your soul, your credit, or your purse, let such persons be imprison'd (for the most part they are) in the Tavern or Ale-house, and do not you come neer them.

Neither let such be your associates as have been nefarious, or have a brand of guilt upon them; for judgement, though it be slow, yet 'tis sure. And though God have long patience, yet he hath long hands too, and reacheth the guilty at a great distance, between the sin and the punishment; which doth not [Page 52]seldom involve with it, after the Per­sian mode, their familiars too. Neither do we read any other immediate cause of the death of Ahaziah, then that he was in the company of King Joram, then, when God was executing judge­ment upon the house of Ahab. In the sense of which, story tells of St. John the Apostle, that he run out of the Bath into which the Heretick Cerinthus came, lest, as Corah and his company, he should be involv'd with him in the same judgement. For which cause we read of that advice, Come out of her my people, and be ye not partakers of her sins, lest ye be partakers also of her plagues.

But let such be your company, as for whose sakes God may bless you al­so; such as Joseph, of whom 'tis said, Gen. 39.5. That after the time that Jo­seph was made overseer of Potiphars house, that God blessed the Egyptian for Josephs sake: and the blessing of the Lord was upon all that he had, in the house, and in the field. And verily, when we read that God would have spared five Cities, for the sake but of ten persons, Gen. 18. and that God did [Page 53]spare one of them for but the conveni­encie of Lot, Gen. 19.21. we cannot sufficiently take a seantling how far the interest of a good man doth im­pose upon the Almighty; and what an advantage it is to have a share in their prayers, who have so much of favour in the Court of Heaven. But besides, consider what a benefit it is to be con­ducted in the ways that are good, by the splendor of the vertue of those that are our familiars; to have such about us as shall be ready to say, Come let us go up to the house of the Lord; and pre­sent thee with motions of well-doing, instead of those, who shall play the De­vils part, and tempt thee to evil.

Now in thy conversation with thy familiars, be advised in a few things.

1. Let not thy friendship to them induce thee at any time, to do that which is evil. The saying of St. Au­gustine may well be applyed, Amicus Plato, amicus Cicero, sed magis amicus Christus. The greatest friendship is to be useful for heaven. And where the highest relations wherein nature hath obliged us, intrench upon that in­terest, [Page 54]we have a warrant to supersede our complyance: For he that loveth father or mother more then me, is not worthy of me.

2. Let not thy affection over-bal­lance thy prudence, and draw thee to things prejudicial to thy credit, or dangerous to thy estate: For he is none of thy friend, that would injure thy reputation; nor art thou thine own, if thou wouldest damage thine own concerns for another. Friendship in­deed is a sacred thing, and deserves our dearest acknowledgement; nor a­ny one thing is there, wherein a man shews himself more a man: But alas, (that I may speak like a School-master) Ʋbi gentium, quo terrarum abiit? If thy spirit should be so generous, as to en­gage thee beyond thine own interest, in the relation of a friend; where wilt thou finde a correlative? Ancient story tells indeed of a Damon and Py­thias, Pylades and Orestes, which mu­tually contended which should dye for other; and Talkative Greece hath not been sparing to tell their praises: But now terras Astraea reliquit. And the present age is so far from this kinde of [Page 55]friendship, that it is hardly found re­sponsible in common gratitude; but most men then shake off their friends, when they have no need of their friends, or their friends have need of them. Besides, if you go to Ludgaie or the Counters, you shall not finde so many persons blaming the prodigali­ties of themselves, as cursing the in­gratitude of their friends; who left them in the lurch, when then they had drawn them in to be obliged. And verily 'tis a pitiful solace for a man, whom suretiship hath made sure, and intricated in the confinements of a loathsome prison, to consider, that he is become so, for those who frollick it in that liberty, which they obtain'd by bringing him into the net; or that the world should say of him, he was a man of a good nature, and no bodies foe but his own.

3. Discover not those concerns to any of thy familiars, which may re­vert either to thy damage, or discredit, if present friendship shall be changed into unexpected enmity: For 'tis a pitiful and precarious life, which de­pends upon the taciturnity of another; [Page 56]and that is a slender credit which holds by the weak thred of anothers silence; who may disclose thy counsel, either by a natural talkative humour, or by the power of Wine, or a designe to oblige another by thy betraying: For besides that there is an impossibility in some tempers to stand out a siege, and not be expugn'd, when closely ply'd, as we see Sampson himself twice in this kinde routed; so is it a miserable captivity to lye at the mercie of ano­ther, and at his discretion to be hang'd, drawn and quartered, with those very instruments which were of thy own supplying. And men gene­rally upon such advantages are as im­perious, as a Maid that is heir to her Mistress; and take pleasure to make that yoke pinch and wring, into which thine own folly thrust thy head, and from whence thou hast not confidence enough to pull it out.

4. Reserve to thy self always a li­berty of breaking company; and give up the pursuit, when the Cry hunts not according to thy judgement, or thy private concerns sound a retreat: For as it is little prudence to buy, by [Page 57]what another bids; so is he as little wise, that to keep pace with anothers expences, will put his own purse out of breath. And verily, as I have thought it unjust that another should force me to pledge an whole one, be­cause he began it, without respect had whether my body or head will bear it; so I think 'tis then wisdom to leave thy friend, when he proves an Ignis fa­tuus, and would lead thee into a quag­mire, intangle thee in contests and animosities not easily explicated; or, expect that thou for company should bleed as many ounces as he; the re­pleated veins of whose estate may al­low phlebotomy, when thine wants juyce of Raisons. Therefore ballance thou thine expences, not by the poise of anothers spending, but by the juster weight of thine own abilities; and think it good manners then to break company, when to put on were like the accompanying with a foul woman, for which thou must dearly smart af­terwards.

But be especially advised, not to have any familiarity with the Maid­servants [Page 58]of the family where you are, more then what conduceth to the dis­patching of general affairs, and such an affability as is common and due to all: for those kinde of cattle have commonly the Stuttle-bee, and are as weary of a single life, as Nuns of their Cloisters, and therefore catch at the ve­ry appearance of a match; and if you shew them any kindness more then ordinary, they interpret it affection, and make no dainty to challenge you upon that account: wherein if you cor­respond not, they hate you worse then an old decayed woman doth a young flourishing beauty. And therefore they rake Hell to finde out inventions to reck their spite on you, and value not how they wound their own repu­tation, so that they might stick yours through it; like Richard the Third, who scrupl'd not to make his Mother an whore, that he might prove his Brother illegitimate. Neither will their malice thus have its bellyful, but refuseth satiety till you be ruined. Of which the City of London hath given too many, and too pertinent examples, where have been those, who by false [Page 59]accusations have brought those young men to shameful exits, whom they could not bring down to their unwor­thy designes.

There is therefore scarce any subject deserves your more abundant caution, unless it be the treachery of a fellow-Prentice; who if he be facinorous, you may well hang up votivas tabulas, if you do escape him: For the Devil is not a much more cunning tempter, then such an one proves, whose de­signe is to lessen his own crime by your copartnership, or to facilitate the ex­centions of his wickedness by thy con­sociation; wherein he congratulates himself in this at least, that he shall have company in his punishment, and that thou art involv'd in the same condemnation: Though his designe be, by thy betraying to excuse himself, and expose thee, like the Turkish Asapi, to blunt the edge of the rage of the offended. Therefore incredible are the Artifices that those blouded miscreants have to betray innocent Lads, and decoy them into destructi­on. And happy is he whom God keeps, and indues with so much prudence as [Page 60]to avoid the danger: But if such oc­current should befal you, be setled up­on the basis of faithfulness and hone­sty; and like the German, when he hath to deal with the nimble Italian, be resolv'd that nothing shall ravish thee from those principles of Truth and Justice, which thy judgement is con­vinc'd of.

To this advice concerning your company, I may subjoyn that which relateth to your discourse, wherein observe,

1. That your discourse be rather little then much; for a fool is known by his much speaking: and it is much better to be esteemed too morose and reserv'd, then by an impertinen babling, to be the subject of others derision; besides the danger of speaking that which may be questioned, cannot be recall'd; whereas, Little said may be soon amended.

3. Let it be rather free then affect­ed; for there is nothing acceptable of this sort that is not natural; for a very clown in his own language comes off better, then he that by a Romantick [Page 61]Bumbaste doth thunder-thump his hearer into an aequilibrium between scorn and wonder.

3. Let it be rather wise then witty, for much wit hath commonly much froth; and 'tis hard to jest, and not sometimes jeer too; which many times sinks deeper then was intended or expected; and what was design'd for mirth, ends in sadness.

4. Let it be of that Virgin-parity, which knows no stain of that which is obscene: for if evil communications corrupt good manners, 'tis in nothing more, then if they be filthy. And as it is a double iniquity to talk filthily of what was done wickedly; so is he justly condemned as vile, whose dis­course is obscoene; because out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.

5. Let not thy discourse be to de­ride the infirmities, or natural imper­fections of another: For in this case, what our Lord said to the accusers of the woman, may be said to all: He that is without sin, let him throw the first stone. There being no man that blames another, but himself comes un­der [Page 62]the lash in some other kinde. It being as natural for men to erre, as to be; and the purest Gold of upright men, that ever we read extant, had yet something of an allay. And no doubt but thine own conscience will con­demn thy self, while thou art the sharp reprehender of anothers folly. Besides, it argues a dirty temper, to be so Sive-like, as to let pass the finer Flour, and take pleasure onely to toss about the Bran, and refuse, which even the best Wheat is not with­out.

But to make a scoff of natural de­fects, is to make a mock of the God of nature; who acts nothing in vain, or without its reason. It might (it may be) be somewhat excusable for thee to deride the wants of another, if thou hadst been the workman in thine own composure; but while that thou wer't fearfully and wonderfully made, and now canst not add one cubit to thy Stature: So should anothers defects be the motive of thy thankfulness, and not the object of thy laughter; con­sidering that thy perfection is the ef­fect, [Page 63]not of thine own care, but the Di­vine goodness.

6. Do not concern thy self in thy discourse, with the publick manage­ment of affairs of State: For it is a kinde of serious madness, to interest our selves in the disposure of those things which are so much above us, in the judgement whereof we are gene­rally deceived: It being the intent of States-men to reserve their designes conceal'd, and study to appear what they least intend. But shouldst thou be in the right, thou art never like to be askt thy counsel; and so all thy con­trivance is but to make a man of clouts for thy self to play with. But the humour of some is abominable, to murmur at Authorities, and please themselves in complaining of their Superiours: Whereas 'tis the princi­pal part of subjection, to submit our selves to the discretion of those that rule us; and the first step to Rebellion, is, when instead of doing commands, we dispute them. The best way to prevent the evil effects of Govern­ment, is, not to quarrel with their a­ctions, but amend our own. For as [Page 64]that Englishman answered seriously, who (when the English were driven out of France, in the time of Henry the Sixth, being upbraidingly askt by a Frenchman, when they intended to return into France again) said, When your sins are greater then ours: So will the removing of evil government (when at any time God shall bring it) be, not the effect of thy murmur, but repentance; for which cause the Hi­storian doth well reckon up evil Ma­gistrates among the effects Divinae acti­onis, as Famines and Pestilences, which we cannot otherwise prevent, but by repenting.

7. But especially let not thy di­scourse intrench upon that veneration, which is always due to the Divine Being, his Attributes, Ordinances and Words: for as it argues a great profaneness, not to dread him that ought to be fear­ed, who shakes not the earth onely, but also heaven: so can it be never safe to play with such edge-tools, as cannot be unwisely used without dan­ger; or make a jesting business of that, for which God hath said he will in no wise hold a man guiltless. And ve­rily, [Page 65]it is a strange impiety our days are grown to, whereby not onely as formerly, men make a sport of jeering Godliness, but they make no spare of jeering God himself; and seem to know the Scriptures for no other end, but to use them as Tennis-balls for recreation. But if God be in heaven, and thou upon the earth, and there­fore should thy words be few, there's a greater reason that they should be reverend.

My next advice should be for the choice of your Recreations, wherein perhaps you may think advice is not so pertinent; because trahit sua quem (que) voluptas, and every man chuses recrea­tion as he is inclin'd; yet, I suppose, 'tis not amiss to desire, that here, you should love with discretion, and di­rect your thoughts that way, from whence may (if not the most of emolu­ment) yet certainly the least of damage ensue. That you should not make your recreation your business, nor (as one quibled not unwittily) your va­cation your vocation, I need not admo­nish. Necessity hath impos'd that [Page 66]law upon you, to work or not eat. You being, I hope, of too much spirit to play the parasite, and pitch up toyls to catch Dear in a platter: But were it not so, I should abhor the thought of your living uselesly; and be like a Spunge, which breeds no moisture, but onely is squeez'd out of that which it extraneously contracteth. And surely more despicable creatures the world bears not, then those Gráshoppers and Butterflies, which are onely imploy'd to sing away their time, and buz about in the warm Sunshine.

Therefore in general, such recreation is to be chosen, as may relax, or unbend the minde or body from their too in­tent devoires, not such as may retund and weary them. For which cause, as I always thought, that they would give a pitiful account of their time spent, who sit up till midnight at Cards and Dice: So had I never any fancie to those recreations, which as they exercise not the body, so they rather disturb, then relax the minde. Besides the provocation to passion and vain speaking, whereby we highly dis­please God, while we designe to please [Page 67]our selves. Without doubt those re­creations are best, which mix plea­sure and profit together.

For which cause, the reading of Hi­story or Geography, are not of the least note, and proper for those whose trade (as yours) being for standing and motion of the body, have a meet re­laxation in the sedentary posture of reading. Besides the delight which the minde may take in the account of passed times, or the discovery of re­mote Lands, and enjoy with ease and quiet the discoveries which others have made with care and travail, and manifold hazards: Whereby you will not onely reap a greater delight, then those that go to visit curious Structures, or beautified Gardens; but also attain so great accomplishment, as may render you acceptable to all ingenious persons; compleating not onely your own knowledge in the af­fairs of the world and forreign parts, but also enabling you to discourse with those, who at their great costs, have been ocular spectators of remote Re­gions. And moreover (which is not a small advantage) you will be furnished [Page 68]with such a stock of examples, of the successes which good and bad have had before you, as may be not of a little conduct to you in your own affairs; and as lights on a rocky shore, be use­ful to prevent your ship wrack.

And further too, you will not be inter­rupted by this kinde of divertisement from being at hand, to attend upon such occurrents as may accidently present themselves: for he verily was not out, whose Proverb was, Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee. Attendance to him that drives a Trade, being as necessary to thriving, as the eye of a Master to make an Horse fat; not onely preventing thereby the mishaps, which many times befal through ab­sence; but also being ready to take occasion by the forelock, and make use of any thing which comes to your advantage: which if you're out of the way, goes to another place, and never inquires after you any further; meet­ing with such things as quite justle out all those thoughts which they had of you. It is therefore very expedient (like a short bowl) to lye in the way, [Page 69]and in likelihood to be knockt up neerer the Mistress.

But if this be lookt upon as too me­lancholy and restrain'd, and you seem to need more of motion, and a freer Air; to walk with some friend in the open Air, is a pleasurable and healthful recreation; when you have not on­ly the pleasure of discourse to delight the minde, but also the agitation of the walk, to exercise the body: For the way which some delight in, when business is over, to sit and tope at a Club, is like the hanging of a Blote-Herring in the smoke, when a close room, and the steam of Tobacco, must needs be as conducing to health, as Lincolnshire-Fens are expedient to pre­vent an Ague.

The Dancing and the Fencing-School (the recreations of some) are both subject to alike inconvenience in this, that they draw to company (for the most part) not commendable; and the refunding of such conventions, is (for the most part) into a Tavern; Such company seldom breaking up, without a parting cup. But they have besides too, their particular evils. The [Page 70]first inducing thee to shew thine abili­ties among the Ladies; where, if not advis'd, thou art drawn in, beyond a retreat; or at least, to frisk away much of thy time and estate. The other exposing thee to such contests, where­in, while it pretends to enable thee, thou art often left in the lurch; thy skill being beaten out of the field by a resolute fool-hardiness, and thine art (used to conflict with art) findes it self opposed with that courage and pas­sion which with unlearned blows designes not so much its own defence, as thy ruine. So that not a few more, taught in the art of Fencing, have miscarried, ingaging upon the con­fidence of their skill, then ever were by that their skill defended.

But the great divertisement of the present age, is the frequenting of Plays; which in the practice of it among us, doubless is very vitious, where the designe is laid, rather to corrupt youth, then to inform it; and matter is so apparelled, as seems rather to irritate lust, then to ab [...] it: Persons gene­rally coming from thence, not often [Page 71]much the wiser, very often much the viler.

The courting of Ladies is a pleasant (indeed) and gentile divertisement; so I call it; for he is mad that makes it his business, or thinks it worth his while, to set a seal upon a bubble: yet I must tell you, it is accompanyed with not a few, nor small inconveni­ences: for you can hardly be fanta­stick enough in your attire, to suit their fancie; nor your discourse vain enough to fit their humour: for though some few of them will Philosophize, the generality of them are so futile, that you have little cause to wonder the Poets imagin'd Venus concreta spumâ. Be­sides, for the expence, a Coach and six Horses is not more costly; for he that courts a Lady without gifts, calls an Hawk without a Lure; which they are free to receive, not to requite; looking upon what you give, not as the effect of your bounty, but their merit; and that you are richly reward­ed with some kinder sneer, or more af­fable compliance.

But also, a Treat is as necessary an Appendix of this practice, as a good [Page 72]Log for Christmas, which they value meerly by its cost; wherein to be pro­vident, is esteemed base; and you are dirty, if you examine how you are par­ticularly cheated.

Moreover, this practice is not with­out its danger: for if it be a beauty un­der covert, 'tis impossible to act your love so Platonically, as not to give of­fence to the yellow stockens; and then remember, Jealousie is the rage of a man; and if it be possible to know when it began, you shall never know when 'twill end.

If it be an associated beauty which you wait upon, you are sure to finde that stock dear to buy, because 'tis vy'd for. And they have the art to raise the commodity, by the conten­tion of the bidders: So that there's nothing to be had there, but what's inhanc'd. Besides, in this you're cer­tain either to quarrel with your Ri­vals for the feather of her fancie in dangerous contests, or be reflected up­on (if you are wiser) as cowardly, de­generous.

If it be a solitary beauty you court, which as yet is intemerata virgo; so [Page 73]that none besides take to the sent; she will not long be so: for your atten­dance will be but like the Fowlers Stale, the appearance of which, brings but others to the net. And therefore they delight to have such an one shew'd, and how related; which though it may be you are shy of, and would en­joy yours by your self, yet they hate this kinde of privacy, thinking that ware judg'd marketable, that hath store of customers. But besides, though your intentions perhaps are general, yet the facile woman thinks you have a particular affection, and judges that while you but court her as a Mistress, you woe her as a wife; and so is apt, either to engage her own affection beyond the reach of an ho­nourable retreat, or hath thence confi­dence enough to challenge you with those promises and obligations, which your frolick tongue might be free to utter, but you not free to make good. And which is worse, the world is apt to impose upon you too, and either judge you vain, to level at that mark which you intended not to hit; or per­fidious, to desert those colours for want [Page 74]of Pay, under which you listed your self as a Volunteer. But this is not all; for fair faces, and taking behavi­ours, are apt to enkindle irregular de­sires, and engage the fancie in those amorous Flames, which if those you treat are too honourable and chaste to comply with, you may be induc'd to quench in the Barathrum of a common sewer; and then into how deep a Ditch you plunge your self, Solomon will tell you; whence we must not expect you to emerge, but with a carbonadoed body, and decocted estate; which God forbid.

But of all Recreations, there's none more healthful or more delightful, then to ride abroad on a good horse; where­by you have not onely the fresh Air, and the delightful prospect of pleasant Fields, variated as you make your jour­ney; but your body is exercised without its own labour, and the spirits actuated without weariness. An Horse being a creature destinated by the Divine ap­pointment for the ease and delight of man: Of that Air and generous spi­rit, that while his loftiness scorns servitude, he yet seems to take plea­sure to do service to you, and acts not [Page 75]out of a forreign compulsion, but an innate metal, being for ease and orna­ment; and therein going beyond that of gay apparel.

But to buy an Horse, and not be able to judge of him; or to keep an Horse, and not be acquainted with his con­cerns, whether he be well or ill, duly ordered, or otherwise; is the high­way to be abus'd, and to make a vex­ation of your pleasure: For in putting off an Horse, men commonly use the largest consciences; and those which will scruple at the Tithing of Anise and Cummin otherwise, will in this case make no bones of a Sirloyn of Beef. 'Tis therefore best to buy, not upon report, but your own judgement; which you may easily attain by obser­vation, and the comparing of an un­sound Horse with a sound one; having a curious eye, that letteth pass not any thing without note, from the lip to the very heels, bringing every part to a strict examination. And be advised never to buy an Horse which you see hath a fault; for 'tis a chance (when you have bought him) if he have not faults which you did not see.

In the experience which I have had in this kinde, I have observed, that it is better to buy an Horse that is fat, then otherwise; because then you may be sure good meat will make him so, which 'twill never do with some: and 'tis to be suppos'd, that no man will bring his Horse to market out of flesh, if a small matter will make him so: Moreover, store of flesh is an ar­gument that that Horse hath not been surfeited; or if he hath, that it is well worn out.

I have further taken notice, that it is not good to buy an Horse that hath any disparity in his shape, as, long postern'd, inward knee'd, narrow­wasted; because the principal excel­lencie in an Horse, being his strength and nimbleness; what may render him defective in these, makes him so much useless.

'Tis also best, not to lay out money upon an Horse that hath not good go­ing. For that being the end, for which commonly men buy, that they may be accommodated in their easie carriage, you will finde that Horse hard to put off, which hath not this to [Page 77]recommend him. 'Tis therefore very good always before you buy, to feel the Horses going under you; for you thereby may not onely best judge of his pace and mettle, but also discover any lameness or imperfection, which he would not discover when manag'd by a Rider, who endeavours its con­cealment: For which cause also, 'tis very expedient to run an Horse in hand upon the stones or some hard gound while another rides him; for the Horse having his tread free, to make his complaint with it, and prest with the weight of the Rider, will discover any foundring, strain, or old infirmi­ty, which otherwise he would make no shew of. But this discourse may be more seasonable many years hence, if it shall please God so to bless your sub­stance, as that you may bear the charge of such a convenience: For an Horse is a great eater, and will not be main­tained without a very considerable cost; which no wise agrees with him, that hath not a purse proportionable to bear it. Indeed, when out of the eater comes forth meat, and an Horse is for profit, as well as convenience, the case [Page 78]is altered; but this seldom happens to those in the City. And as seldom is it, if ever, that those who are not ve­ry flush men, and keep house in Town, do not therewith ride their Estates off their legs, and bring themselves to a speedie ruine.

As to what concerns your converse with men, let it be your choice to deal with those which are honest; which yet so deal with, as to pre­vent the mischief, if they should de­ceive you, and prove to be Knaves. For as there are many, to whom consci­ence of their duty is as forcible as an hundred obligations to binde them to do uprightly; so are there not a few, who make pretended sincerity, as a cloak to cover their deceit, and make it their business to fish with that bait; whom to discern is as dissicult, as the inven­tion of the Philosophers Stone; and you will be never taught it, but by dear­bought experience.

But be most cautious of those that speak the fairest, especially if that be subitane, or extraordinary: for though it be a common way to give pills in [Page 79]pap, and administer that which is bit­ter, wrapt up in sweet-meat; yet this is so natural, that it is still in use; and stratagems are all in general thus con­triv'd, though diversifyed in mode and figure. And what he said by his own experience so many years ago, Tuta frequens (que) via est, per amici fallere nomen; you may meet with five hundred, who can by their own experience tell you the same still.

But then be wary to conceal your suspitions, lest of a dubious friend you make a doubtless enemy; and he that before onely intended to serve his own ends of you, now designes to vent his malice too.

Yet however, do not profess animo­sities with any man: for besides that it is most unchristian to keep anger over-night; and we have no other promise of being forgiven of God, then as we forgive one another; it is doubtless very imprudent: For there is no creature so inconsiderable, which may not finde an opportunity to vent its spite, with thy mischief; which God hath admonished us of, in that he [Page 80]hath made the Elephant, the biggest of Beasts, obnoxious to the Mouse, the least of them; by whose running up his Trunk, he is more plagued, then by any of his stoutest adversaries. And story tells of the most valiant Kings, who have fallen by the hand of the meanest Rascals: and I remember I read of a Turkish Visier slain in the very Divan by a Gregarian Souldier, whom he had many years before a­bused, who by a long perplext con­trivance, had from that very time laid a train for the execution of his re­venge; which he resolved to effect, though certain to perish in the adven­ture. Therefore if any disputes or offences do occur, which it is hard al­wayes to avoid; let them be acted with as little passion as may be; that the concerned person may plainly see, that the contest was not the effect of thine envie, but interest; and then too, let thy next congression be with as serene a look as may be: For as we use to say; The second blow makes the fray; so the next meeting either makes up a quarrel, or perpetuates it.

But on the other hand, be ready to [Page 81]oblige all with real kindnesses, at least kinde words: For, as William Prince of Orange was wont to say, That man is little worth, who is not worth a salu­tation: So may we say, That man is of little remark, who is not worth a few fair words, that cost nothing. And verily, this kinde of affability and of­ficious respect to men, conduceth not a little to attract their good opinion: And the contrary disgusteth those ma­ny times, who are not unwise men; and causeth them to set a note of dislike upon those, who have passed by them without that acknowledgement of respect, which they conceived due to themselves.

You shall moreover finde a principal way of obliging others to consist in the art of conferring courtesies hand­somely; so to bestow them, as that they may have the best side turn'd out­wards, and be made most acceptable. In which respect 'tis best to antici­pate the expectation of the receiver, and do before you're askt: For there are many modest tempers, that strain so much upon their own inclinations to intreat a kindeness, that they think [Page 82]in so doing they have dearly bought it. But if you are requested, what you intend to do, delay not; for hope de­ferred makes the heart sad; and 'twas Seneca's observation, Qui cito dat, his dat. But if thou art askt, and must deny, let the party see 'twas not out of choice, but necessity; and hand it to him with such soft words, as may even oblige him, in the handsomness of the repulse.

Yet in this, and indeed in all other affairs, the tempers of those persons you deal with must be carefully ob­serv'd: for many spirits are like gra­velly Land, whose heat and barren­ness is such, as never requites the charge bestow'd on it. You will therefore generally finde courtesies thrown away upon persons that are proud or cove­tous: the one being of that fondness, as to think all but his own desert; the other of that baseness, as to set a very low value upon the highest merit. To do a benefit therefore for such as these, that will be costly to you, with hope of requital, proves like mo­ney and pains expended in the quest of the Philosophers stone; which hath [Page 83]hitherto evaporated in smoak and fru­stration.

You may hence observe, that the stu­dying of the dispositions of men, is of great use; not onely in what I have said, but also in the management of all affairs: For it is much more easie to act a designe upon a man, to which he is naturally inclin'd, then otherwise. Therefore he that intends to bring a covetous man to act liberally, may as well expect to make a Water Spaniel of a Sheep, or good meat of a Whet­stone. 'Tis best then to make use of such in the chanel wherein they run; and those commonly are free of their words, who are close of their coyn; and will be ready to do you any kind­ness wherein they may speak for you, when they had rather part from their blouds, then let you have a penny of their money. And if you expect that such as these should do handsomely, when in the fag-end of a bargain you leave a piece of Plate, or suchlike gra­tuity to their disposition; you are as certainly disappointed, as if you should look that a dogs tail should afford you frankincense. And verily that story [Page 84]is here worth the remembring, of the Justices Clerk sent by his Master to pre­sent an whole Boar to him, who lately dyed worth so many thousands, got by saving. The young man gives a Porter eighteen pence to bear it thither, big with expectation that the gratuity would be proportionate to so fair a present; which having presented with such words as were likely to give it the best acceptance, the rich Chuff draws his purse, and after a long pre­amble of good counsel, that he should be a provident husband of what was in this kinde bestow'd upon him, gives him twopence: and as the man was re­quited, so was the Master.

On the other hand, 'tis no sinall prudence to make choice of such, if you are concern'd in an Arbitration wherein matter of money may be in controversie: for those of a free spi­rit with ease part from such sums as not much, which your close Sirs would strain at like a Camel.

To this purpose 'tis very expedient to be skill'd in Physiognomy; I mean the art of discovering the tempers of persons by their looks: from whence [Page 85]no doubt there is a more exact disco­very to be made, then by any relations or reports whatsoever: and for my own part (I may say) I have been in this respect the least deceived: For though it be possible for men to cover their passions, and conceal their cross dispositions from any betray their words may make of them, till they are ready to act; yet it is not possible for them to obliterate those Chara­cters of Nature, whereby 'tis not hard to read them without their leave. And though it sometimes falls out, that by custom and vice; men are not (some­times) what Nature made them; yet that alteration is made by such habits, as leave a sufficient mark of themselves behinde, and make the discovery rather more easie then difficult. The attain­ment of this Art is not so easie by any documents whereby you may be instru­cted, as by your own private observati­on, and the comparing of the experi­ences of mens actions, with the for­mer judgement which you passed on their looks; or à posteriore comparing your apprehensions of their present looks, with what you know of their [Page 86]passed actions; which transfer as a di­rection to your conceipt on all parallel Phyfiognomies.

Neither will you finde it less ex­pedient to discover mens present thoughts by their present looks, then their inclinations by their features: For if he that carped at the form of man, found fault onely in this, that he wanted a window in his heart; Na­ture hath something clear'd her self in that, for that Vultus est indicium quid vultis: discovering (do what we can) in sudden appearances, those sen­timents of our minde, which we would should be for ever conceal'd; and com­monly we discover them so much the more, in being vext that we cannot but discover them. To do which, there must be a quick application of the eye, to the looks of him whose sentiments you would discover, at that very time when you think he is pincht; that you may judge by the face which he makes, whether it wrings him or no. There is also much of discovery to be made of the resentments of others by their sudden speeches, which even from very discreet persons sometimes [Page 87]bluster forth, and are not examined by the Court of guard; and then espe­cially, when passions are up, or affecti­ons violent. 'Tis therefore the part of a wise man, to be a diligent obser­ver of every word that passes, though with as little observation from others as may be, that you do observe: For all such suspition begets caution; and in vain is the net laid in the sight of the bird.

And here on the other hand, 'tis of great use to conceal your own resent­ments, not to winch when you are toucht to the quick; but to dissemble your sense, till you have a due oppor­tunity to discover it to your advan­tage. For it very often is, that we spoil our affairs by disclosing them be­fore they are hatcht; and turning them out into the world (as ripe for execu­tion) which have still need of the se­cundine of further advice and conside­ration. For which cause, as time is the first of all things, so is it the principal too; it being almost impossible to do any thing well, that is not done timely.

Neither is it less useful, many times, [Page 88]to cover altogether our apprehensions, and seem to take no notice of those things, which indeed do give us just cause of regret; especially too, when those we are to deal with, are either too mighty for us, or we expect may be be­neficial to us. Upon which account, I remember I have read of Cosmus, that it was not the least thing conducing to the inurement of his infant-dominion, that he had the art of dissembling the insults of the Spanish pride, and the envie of his suspitious Neighbours. And therefore those forward tongues, or peevish tempers, which fling as soon as toucht; and make it more to vent their present heats, then consult their future conveniences; Not onely create to themselves many troubles, but also pull off the hair of those oppor­tunities, which otherwise in due time might have fairly presented them­selves.

Yet on the other side, there is no greater remora to mens affairs, then that delatory slowness, which, how­ever the fair gale of opportunity blows, yet love to put off till to morrow; and then set out like a Coach and six [Page 89]Horses, with such tedious preparation, that before all things are ready, the Game's started to their hand, and they come just the day after the fair; when with an irksom difficulty they are put to't to retreive those things, which but a while ago flew fair before them.

And here you may take notice, that in the use of men, 'tis of huge advan­tage to observe the time: for there is not that man to be found, whose temper is so even, as not to expose him sometimes more waxy for impres­sion, then at other times. And if it were not so, the very contingencies that happen, do differently dispose us: For which cause we are more inclin'd to be free to others, when a prosperous gale hath breathed upon us; and are ready then to give a crabbed answer, when some peevish occasion before hath angred us. And the Crasis of men, as it is very divers; so are they more or less complying, as the present pre­dominant humour is accidentally sedated, or made sharper. And there­fore as cholerick persons are common­ly peevish till they have din'd, that [Page 90]the stomack have something in't, to imploy the active humour; so are those that are flegmatick, or melancho­ly, rarely free, or debonair, till their more ponderous and dull ingredients are warm'd and made more active by the adventitious heat, which wine, or some strong liquor contributeth; or their spirits awakened by some such pleasant company or discourse, as may leave some tang behinde it. And therefore choice of time will as much difference the success of your applicati­ons which you make to persons, as wind and tide with or against, shall speed or retard a passage.

And for this very cause, in such cases, 'tis not ground enough to give up your hopes as desperate, because you succeeded not at the first; for a second or third time may finde the humour better dispos'd to receive the impressions which you intended.

But however, be always advised ne­ver to resist one humour with the like: For it is excellently advantagious when passion is up, to look on, and with a sedated minde to observe the indi­screet passages which then occur, where­by [Page 91]every person lays himself open at such a rate, as renders him not a little obnoxious to the retorts of him, that with a composed spirit takes notice of them. And that this is so, is easily discovered, if you reflect, when you are return'd to your own bent, upon that exorbitance and indiscretion, which in those wilde fits you flew out into. For which cause, to oppose pas­sion with passion, seldom produceth other effect then a too-late repentance for both. And 'twill be found abun­dantly better to put on your Mittens, and handle the passionate with as much softness as may be. And I have known men of that tune, whom in the fit you'd have thought irrefragable, plan'd by this means to as much smoothness, as could reasonably be ex­pected. And whereas if in snuff and distaste you may fling away from such re infecta; a little patience and good words may do your business, and send you away with what you come for.

But take this as a general caution, to deal as little as may be with those over topping men, to whom a man [Page 92]cannot with confidence come and de­mand his own. Upon which account I'll tell you a publick story, of which you may make a private application. It was disputed in the days of Queen Mary, in a Parliament then holden, whether if the Queen should have a Childe, the Tutelage of it, and some places of strength, should be put in King Philips hand; the King of­fering his Bond, faithfully to deliver up his trust, if the Childe should dye. And the greater number of the House inclining to the affirmative, as con­cluding that so great a Kings Bond was an ample security; the Lord Paget stands up, and demands, if the King should refuse to do as he is bound, upon the death of the Childe, who shall put his Bond in suit, and where? which demand was so difficult to finde an answer, that the business fell without more ado.

And 'tis much one, to have dealings with those, who have so great an in­fluence on our affairs, that we must be content with what measure they'll give us: for to knock off, or con­test, if we like not our matters, is [Page 93]the loss of our friend, and a greater advantage.

Be also advised in all dealings of importance, to manage them by Let­ter, and not by Message; which do so frequently forget, or mistake, that your business is made a quite different mat­ter, then 'twas when you sent it.

But this should be especially ob­serv'd, when such answers are given, as you may suspect may prove offen­sive; for sent by the mouth of another, there may be a word put in, which may so inflame the sense, as to make that intolerable, which out of your mouth was directed with a passable contrivance.

And for the same reason, 'tis not good to take pet at any such returns as come at second-hand, when you may be deny'd in some easie request: for I sometimes have known, when an answer hath been brought, enough to divide the most intimate friends; which when 'twas inquir'd into, prov'd no more to the minde of the party that sent it, then George a Green, to the man in the Moon.

And you'll finde it as false to judge [Page 94]by report, when the actions of men come under dispute: For the misap­prehensions of men, not seldom distort and wring that out of joynt to make it most monstrous, when the party that did it was candid in his thoughts. And the prejudice of men adds so much to this score, that they will have often a bunch for an horn: and the matter is not much, there, to finde a knot, where 'tis before-hand resolv'd to finde it or make it. Therefore, as in matters of news, I have always ob­serv'd to make such an abatement, as may bear a proportion with the facti­on of the relater; so you'll finde that as needful in the reports made of men; for you may be sure, that ill-will doth never speak well.

But because I spake before of treat­ing by Letter, you must be advised to be therein very wary, because there is your hand as a witness against you; so that as to matter of weight, which may produce suit, 'tis not amiss to ob­serve what is said of Tiberius Caesar, That some of his Letters to the Senate were ex consulto ambiguae such as he intended should be interpreted, not [Page 95]according to the plain words, but the concernments of those whom he had to deal with: For such words may be found out, and so plac'd, as shall a­mount to a promise in the apprehensi­on of the Reader, who is conscious of the matter you treat of, which will not be so construed in the judgement of those who may come to take cogni­zance of the matter in question.

If God shall so bless you, as that you live to serve out your time, with such approbation of industry and faith­fulness as shall manumit you with a good report; 'twill not be amiss to have by you some general advice con­cerning your setting up, because God knoweth whether I shall then be alive to judge of those particular concerns, which may induce or disswade it.

What I have therefore here first to advise you of, is, that you look upon this business, as that which deserves much advice. There being not a few, who by their haste, and precipi­tation in this affair, have ruined their fortunes; and while they have been weary of being servants, have made [Page 96]themselves in a short time perpetual slaves to indigence and want. For if having once set up, you then miscarry, it proves like the blasting of a young sprout, which, if not thereby utterly kill'd, yet becomes so checkt and de­jected, that it never attains a fresh and flourishing condition after. It con­cerns you therefore to look before you leap, and not to be induc'd by the name of Master and a Shop, to skip into that in haste, from whence you will be shortly turn'd out with shame.

It hath been observ'd, that they sel­dom prove well, who set up young; that age being for the most part preci­pitate, and forwarder to do then to con­sider, and also apt to pre-occupy the success of things, by a too promising hope; and like young Setters, to set an Haunt instead of a Covie; whereby they are many times grosly abused, and erre at such a rate, as admits of (onely, if any, yet) a difficult recovery. Whereas those that like Bobbed Par­tridges have been rust in the net of deception, by what they have observ'd at others charge, are much more wary, [Page 97]and cautelous of being again trapan'd. Besides, age doth give a natural allay, like a Bartholomew-dew, cooling the immoderate heat and rashness of youn­ger years.

It is therefore taken notice of, that young men do then prosper best, when they have either served as Journey-men unto some wary Stagers; or have the happiness to be taken in as partners un­to such. Whereby, as Bears by their grown Cubs, they are taught to catch the prey with the greatest cleverness and certainty, and with the least ha­zard.

'Tis not amiss here also to admo­nish you, that great Rents have very often broke the back of young begin­ners; who before they could get ac­quaintance, and gain custom to de­fray the charge of so great expence, are drain'd dry, to the very vital bloud, and expire like a Candle for want of fat to feed the fire on't. Consider therefore, that omne principium est de­bile; and 'tis wisdom to dispose all thy projects in a proportion to that in­firmity: For he that arms himself be­yond his own dimensions, is incumbred [Page 98]with his own Furniture, and common­ly falls the more ridiculous subject of others scorne and triumph. Be there­fore advised to begin warily, having as the first, so the last game to play; and as one jested, it being all one, and one all; it concerns you so to dispose it, as may admit of the least hazard.

Nor is it less good counsel, to begin low, according to the advice of the Country-man, to eat your brown Bread first: If there were no other reason, at least, because 'tis shameful to come lower. And experience tells us, that that Bullock which hath been fed with Hay, will almost starve before 'twill be kept with Straw: for though there be nothing more easie then to come down, so there's nothing more difficult then to bring our mindes to it.

But further, as those Structures which are raised highest, have always their foundations laid lowest; so you can hardly instance in any great estate, whose beginning was not with such a providence, as consulted for mean things. And this doubtless may be rendred as the principal cause, that so very few of those prove successful, [Page 99]who have been furnish'd out into the world plentifully, by their friends: For building thereupon with too much confidence, they set out at such a rate, as before they have run far, breaks their wind: whereas they who come forth under-hatcht, conscious of their own infirmity, ride with a strait hand; and if they are wise, put not into a gallop, till their wind be well rackt; and by that means prove of good spur-met­tle to the last.

And now let me tell you, there's no one thing deserves the care of a young beginner more then his servants; who, if they be beaten to the world, and know how to do any thing, they're cunning enough to abuse and cheat you: Their opportunities too being such as are hard to avoid. Let me therefore in this particular give you something of advice.

1. Be sure never to trust any of them that have a colloguing, fawning way: For they are persons whom nature hath, as it were, cut out for deceit, and not onely fitted with habiliaments, but also a natural promptness thereto: [Page 100]and if I may tell you mine own experi­ence, I remember not that I ever had to do with any of them, which proved otherwise. And they are ge­nerally of that impudence, that like those at Cape Bon Speranz, they'll pick your pocket, and look in your face; pretending always most, what they in­tend least. And therefor there is e­special need of your caution in those very things, which they profess most against; they being generally like her, who made the world believe she could endure no Eggs, till it was found that her usual breakfast was a groats­worth.

2. Never make your self over-fami­liar with your servants, nor take them for your play-fellows; for familiarity begets contempt, and contempt breaks the neck of obedience: It being very rare that those servants are ready to do, that are not kept in aw; but will be rather disputing your commands then doing them; which beware that you admit not: It being better in ma­ny respects, to erre in commanding what is not convenient, then to amend it upon the advice of an ordinary ser­vant, [Page 101]they being incouraged by such a condescension, to argue with you the expediencie of your commands e­ver after, and upon that account to use such language, as is not to be indured; which to remedy, when got an head, you'll be necessitated to use such sharp corrosives, as may against your minde, if for your turn, part you and your pa­tient.

3. Never acquaint a servant with that secret which may be to your pre­judice if reveal'd: For when once you stand upon their courtesie, they then grow insolent, and make no bones to retract their service, when they know you dare not exact it. Beside, how base a servitude is it to have our noses held to the Grind-stone by those, which we know are bound to obey us? and so to stand in fear of their discovery, that however abus'd, we must be mealy­mouth'd.

4. Expect not to oblige an ordinary servant by your kindnesses. For I could never see any of them, but were like those fera animalia, which upon every distaste return to their natural ferity, and forget all bonds of kind­ness [Page 102]they received from you. Besides, they have a general comment, whereby they interpret all your favours; which they judge to be the effect, not of your goodness, but their own desert; and conclude, that you are therefore kinde to them, because you cannot be with­out them; which conception having once imagined, they grow as touchy as Wasps, and upon every ruffle bid you provide your self.

5. Be not in a servants debt, if you can make any shist to come out of it: For they look upon the forbearance of their mony, as so great a kindness, which if you take not care to requite, they'll take care to do it themselves; and assure your self, 'tis no good Hus­bandry in any thing to let them be their own Carvers. And which is worse, they take occasion thence to grow refractory, and insult; which by all expedients should be avoided, in a Country where Laws are so little se­vere in this respect, and wherein what they are, 'tis dedecorous to use them.

6. Let your behaviour to your ser­vants be with a general equanimity, [Page 103]and even temper; not finding fault through the peevishness of your own humour, but the justness of their de­merit: For no one thing doth more im­pair authority, and abate a readiness to amend those things for which they are increpated, then when 'tis observ'd, we are of such a temper, as we call in Dock out Nottle: sometimes stumbling at a straw, and another time leaping over a block.

7. Let your servants be supplyed in all things meet for them, in sickness and in health: For all such things are what they bargain for. And 'tis great iniquity to require service from them, while you give not what you con­tracted for, to them. And truely in this case 'tis better rather to exceed then otherwise, if it be done with due providence and caution: For it is na­stily base, that the world should say, we increased our wealth, with what should have been put into our sevants bellies.

8. Be not inclin'd to an Evesdrop­ping, and underhand hearkning what your servants say in their privacies: For it is rare (even though they love you) [Page 104]but at one time or other you shall hear them curse you. And at such times, I have observ'd, they are apt to prat­tle that which they never mean, and please themselves in a way of speaking freely, as the Collier that call'd my Lord Mayor knave, when he was got upon Bristow-causey.

9. Observe that due decorum which our Laws require, not to turn away a servant without a quarters warning, un­less in such cases wherein 'tis perilous to keep them: it being indeed very unjust, that those whose livelihoods depend up­on imployment, should at your pleasure be exposed to want, without such fore­knowledge, as that they may provide for themselves. And 'twill also con­demn you of such rashness, as will not easily finde a fair excuse: All such oc­currents too, as they disaccommodate them, not failing to bring along with them their inconveniences on you.

Lastly, let your care be, that in all things your servants give God his due: for 'tis in vain to expect that they should be just to you, when they ob­serve that you are careless whether they are so to God; and will never scruple [Page 105]to abuse you their Master below, when they have liberty given them to offend thine and their Master above. And verily in this case, the danger's great, where there's a freedome given to do wickedly: For besides that all righte­ousness is like a Golden-chain, so de­pending upon one another, that he who makes no conscience of breaking one, may upon the same account break all: 'Tis just with God to punish one sin with another, and permit those to deal unrighteously with you, whom thou permittest to behave themselves wick­edly to him. And moreover, 'tis not to be doubted, but as God blessed the house of Potiphar for good Josephs sake: so he hath a proportionableness of ven­geance to execute upon those families, where his name by any one is much dis­honoured.

But now there is a different manner of acting to be exercised towards those, who shall be taken by you as Appren­tices; for their concerns are much different from those of an ordinary servant, you being become to them loco parentis: They giving no small part of their portion for your Educa­tion, [Page 106]and expending no small part of their lives in doing you service; and therefore you are concern'd to own such in a more then ordinary acknow­ledgement. And as they to that end became your servants, that they might in due time become Masters, so are they to be used in all respects as those slips futurae spei, which justly exact your care and incouragement; and therefore to be managed, not tyrannized over: and so to be used, that while you drive on by them your own advantages, you remember also, that you are bound to promote theirs. And therefore I can­not but congratulate the integrity of those, whom I have heard rejoyce in the prosperity of those who had been their Apprentices. And with as much detestation have I abhor'd the unwor­thiness of those, who by cunning pra­ctices have blasted the hopeful fortunes of their young servants; envying the thriving of such as have escaped their hands; grudging that any Water should go by their Mill, to help the Grist of those, who were so many years servants to theirs.

And indeed consider, how many ar­guments there are to induce your ten­derness and care, when the hopes and future joyes of a careful Father shall be put into your hands, to stand or fall at your discretion; who hath (it may be) drain'd himself beyond his abili­ty, to furnish his son into your service; and hath been willing to deny himself of his present conveniences, upon the account of his future hopes; which shall either flourish, or be blasted, as your discretion and care shall be dispo­sed. And verily, as we lament the fall of a Family that hath been undone à posteriore, and mourn over the ruines of a blown-up Estate; so I think we may the more justly bemoan an antici­pated undoing, when that estate is nipt in the bud or flower, which if kindly and cautelously dealt with, might have grown to that vastness, that the Birds of the Air might have lodged under the Branches of it.

And truely, who can without la­ments consider, how many hopeful Youths come up to that great City, who are miserably expos'd to ruine, by the neglect of those they are bound [Page 108]to, who being secur'd in their own concerns, by the security given by friends, leave the young men to run riot at their own wills, and undo them­selves with the opportunities which they put into their hands, while they are jolly at their Country-houses, and give them rope enough to hang them­selves; whereby the wretched Father is not onely disappointed of his preg­nant hopes which he had conceived, but (poor heart) is involved in a debt which he never feared. There­fore to such as these, it behooves you to behave your self with such a pru­dence, as may conduce not onely to the effecting of your own business, but also the promoting of their con­cerns.

Your next thoughts (it may be) are concerning a Wife; and 'tis possible you may dispute with your self, whe­ther you shall marry or no; wherein to give you advice, were as pertinent as the directions of Almanack-makers, who may tell you, that in March you must sow Seeds; when in that month the weather may prove so unkinde, [Page 109]as that to sow them in the ground, were all one as to throw them in the Kennel: many circumstances very much altering the case in the expedi­encie of wiving: Therefore what our Lord speaks in this matter, Matth. 19.12. he speaks [...], to him that is able to receive it.

'Tis true, the marryed life is charged with many incumbrances; and I think 'tis without dispute, that the single man (if he can so content himself) lives much the freer. But yet doubtless much may be said on the other side: for the trouble of business hath a kinde of de­light in it: And if I may speak mine own experiences, who have had in this kinde as much as most men; I may truely say, that I never was better Fleas'd, then when I had most to do. Business by its motion adding an heat to the spirits, while the unimployed, like standing water, corrupt with their own idleness. Secess, through our pra­vity, not affording us so much oppor­tunity for Divine Contemplation, as laying [...] open to the illaqueations of Satanical suggestion. Wherefore, we read David never in worse case, then [Page 110]when idle on the roof of his house; and doubtless there is no good man but thinks him in better tune, when he said of himself, that he was persecuted as a Partridge upon the Mountains. Besides, there is a natural tendencie, where­by God hath inclin'd all things living to a delightful paintaking in this kinde: whence we see the Beasts of the Field, but especially the Fowls of the Air, denying their own conveniences, and with so much affection making pro­vision for their many young ones. And if God have not indu'd us with as pas­sionate instincts, 'tis because we have reason to produce in us more powerful effects.

But if we should here fall into a discourse, how much the discommo­dities of the marryed life are compen­sated with the conveniences which a good wife brings; we might possibly be involv'd beyond our designe: For not to speak of that content, which is to be had in reciprocal indearments, where acts of love endeavour to out­vy each other, and you are attended upon sick and well, with that affecti­on, which like Musk and Amber gives [Page 111]a most pleasing acceptableness: what a satisfaction is it to have a friend, which as Paul said of Timothy is [...], and doth naturally care for our affairs? into whose bosome we may freely discharge our thoughts, and expect such secresie, care, and as­sistance, as none else have a like induce­ment to afford.

If therefore such thoughts as these shall prevail with you, to enter upon the marryed life; yet be advis'd not to engage therein, but with such consi­deration as becomes a business, wherein you must know a very great measure of the contentment of your future days depends.

And here let me first give you a cau­tion against that abominable baseness, which trapans innocent women to their utter undoing: When those Citizens (which in truth have nothing) make shew of much, and draw in great matches, with that appearance, to the shame and misery of a broken Fortune. Whereby women of good Estates, are not onely brought to nothing; but made worse then nothing, being in­tangled with the incombrance and [Page 112]charge of Children, for whose main­tenance there is no provision. And therefore I adjure you, that with a just abhorrencie of so great and such un­christian perfidiousness, if your en­deavours should be so blasted (which God forbid) that you must sink, you sink alone, rather then involve in your calamity the innocence of a Wife and Children, which should be of that dear respect to you; and be guilty of that cursed treachery, to leave her without house and home, who lest her Fathers house to come to yours.

And for this cause, do not marry 'till you finde that you can stand on your own Legs; being in such a thriving way, as with the conti­nuance of Gods blessing, may afford an handsome supply for such expences, as a marryed life brings with it. Be­ing in such a capacity, your thoughts may then be imployed in the care how to chuse a good Wife; when chosen, how to obtain her; and when had, how with discretion to behave your self to her.

As for the first, be advised to chuse such for a Wife, whose fame is like that [Page 113]Christal, which hath not so much as a sand-spot in't, not onely in respect of her own Reputation, but also of her Relations: there being a kinde of im­mortality in a good name, which doth over-live us, and is intail'd by the surest conveyance upon our Posterities; so as that there is no fine and recovery in this case allow'd; no time wearing out this blemish, nor merit sufficient to wash it off. Therefore it should be your care, that this may run in the pu­rest channel, where no soyl nor mud may defile it; but that you may re­ceive it, as uncontaminated from o­thers, as it ought to be your care so to transmit it unto yours. And if those who breed horses, have an espi­cial caution to prevent (even those onely ocular) blemishes which may be traduced to the Foles; it concerns us doubtless much more, to be wary of bringing that into our Families which may stick as a blemish into fol­lowing Generations.

And upon this account, such choice is to be eschewed, as may bring an hereditary deformity or disease: For what an unkind sight is it to see a mans [Page 114]house stockt with crook-backs, when the Gibbous Children shall represent the distorted crook-shoulder of their Mother, and carry always about them the publick testimony of your indiscre­tion? For though some emolument might present its self, which might induce you to make such an one your bed-fellow; yet surely nothing should prevail to take her for a breeder, and leave your name running in the winding-Chanel of a crooked defor­mity. The like may be advised con­cerning Hereditary diseases, when the King evil, or suchlike which the Mo­ther hath, may run in the bloud of her off-spring; and you may see that flesh rotting before its time, which you expected would have been some sup­port to your memory, when you should be dead and gone.

And truely upon this score of our Posterity, it is very expedient to make choice of an handsome venter: For that we see, that comely Mothers have, for the most part, as comely Children; and as rare is it, that those who are not, have other Children then such as are like themselves. And though [Page 115]beauty be of its self, an object fitted for our affection, being a perfection not apprehended but by a rational Creature; yet doubtless it is for this reason even prudentially eligible, be­cause a beautiful Mother gives hopes of a fair breed; and Daughters that are handsome, are either put off with less portions, or to better Fortunes. And such men are not a little advan­taged in finding that suit facile, where­in their own comelyness hath been their spokesman.

Let your next care, which I should have made the first, be her Religion; whereby I understand not onely the profession of the truth, but such a Princi­ple infus'd from above, as doth dispose to an holy and circumspect conversa­tion: For as not one of these least ad­vantages of the marryed life, is mu­tual society; so doubtless there can be no such communion, as where God himself makes up the third party. And the fellowship is not onely that of affection, whereby as Jonathan and David they become one soul; but that also, whereby they become onespirit, and [Page 116]are mutual helpers of one anothers faith and joy.

And besides too, there is from this Principle so much of inducement, not onely to bear with such things, and act upon such accounts, as will not be done upon any other score; but also to avoid such temptations, as morali­ty would stoop to; and to say as Jo­seph, How shall I do this great wicked­ness, and sin against God!

Her disposition also doth require your especial care, being a matter not a little conducing to your peace and com­fort: For some persons are of that uneven temper, that they are not one whole day friends with themselves; and therefore when they are in the frets, will finde a Gall in a Dove, and take occasion to quarrel at a Ball-rush, not because it hath some knots in it, but because it hath none; and have e­nough to charge upon your score of what they want, if not of what they should have, to be sure of what they would have. Whereas there are o­thers again, that nature hath allaid with an unwillingness to quarrel, and can hardly tell how far their patience [Page 117]can be extended; but if provokt be­yond that bent, they'll tear like thun­der; and are as soon return'd again to as clear a Sunshine, as gives no re­membrance that it was fowl weather. And this surely is not an inconvenient temper: For whereas those that are sheepish, can very difficultly preserve themselves from being weather-born; and those that are waspish, are, as So­lomon saith, a continual dropping; and the poutish are like a charnel-house, where sorrowful and glum silence make a solemn mourning: These, like a smart April-shower, rain to make the earth look greener, and use frowns and tharp words, as Kings do Souldiers and hounds, onely when they are neces­sary, and in season: Then onely ap­pearing to be angry, when they lye un­der a necessity of vindicating their concerns from neglect, or themselves from contempt.

And under this title of disposition, we may also bring in her frugal incli­nation, which is not the least of the feminine vertues: for all that Sex is much for outward ornament, because conscious there's not much within: [Page 118]Wherein every thing is valued not by the decet, so much as the constitit; and all is thought mean, that doth not exceed: and for you to interpose to moderate the expence, would be an argument of either want of affection, or a generous spirit. Such an one therefore whose natural composure is an allay to that extravagance, is like Mother of Pearl, which breeds its own treasures, being very fine, and fed to as much content, with the third of that cost, which must be laid out upon the soft back, and dainty tooth of another. And let me tell you, there is much in the educa­tion of young women, when they have been bred up frugally, and not nurtured in that sensuality, which im­ploys all thoughts, rather how to please the appetite, then appease hunger; and how to be vain and gallant, then de­cent and comely. And let me also tell you, there is much in the natural neat­ness of some women, who are cut out, as it were, to make a fair shew with a little, and will appear very neat and handsome in that which is but ordina­ry, and evince their Gentility by their gate and behaviour. Whereas, some [Page 119]others are like a Sow with a Saddle, on whom whatsoever cost you bestow, they shall never look otherwise, then like Gold in Ore, which may be rich, but is unpollished; their bravery hang­ing on, as if shak'd there with a fork, and they in their rich apparel look as like Gentlewomen, as a Clown in a Buff-coat and Bandeleers, doth like a Souldier. And therefore on such as these, your expence must be lavish, and cost extream: For they know that what they wear is onely handsome, be­cause rich; and that they are as careful in preserving, as they are neat in wear­ing, shewing no more courtesie to a Sattin-gown, then some would do to a Russet-coat; slattering out that in a few months, which would have done another credit, it may be, as many years.

What is next to be thought for, is a portion, wherein as your care should be wary and provident; so should it be also gentile and noble: not on the one hand to take in a charge without what to maintain it; nor on the other hand, to bargain for a wise, as if you were higling for an Horse in Smith­field: [Page 120]For as prudence would teach to consult by a good portion, for such a charge as all Wives bring with them; so the nature of such a transaction should induce us to behave our selves in it, with such a nobleness as becomes it.

And in the matter of wiving, things being for the most part carryed on by affection, so in this respect are we chiefly concern'd to make use of our discretion: For a fair Wife without a Portion, is like a brave House with­out Furniture, where a man may please himself with the prospect, but there is nothing within to keep him warm: and a Wife with a good portion, but with conditions unsuitable, is like the fat land in the Wilde, where there may be wealth, but in truth little pleasure besides. Therefore let a good face per­swade you to call, good conditions to alight and enter, and a good portion put you to bed: For where wealth onely is, there will be a cold affecti­on; and where affection onely is, there will be a cold content: For as he ob­serv'd, sine Cerere & Baccho, friget Ve­nus; so will content look pale, and love [Page 121]wax feeble, where there is not an E­state to keep them plump and fair.

'Tis true indeed, to marry an un­endowed Wife is more dispensable, where there is such an Estate as doth not need a portion: For in such a case your love hath a greater proof, and may be suppos'd to lay a greater obli­gation; and possibly you may expect a submission to your will more, and a greater compliance to your desires. Though I must tell you that many in that respect have found themselves mi­staken; no persons being more exor­bitant in their excesses, then those which brought the least with them. And as those are commonly the proud­est when preferr'd, who before were the meanest; so those wives are gene­rally the costlyest, who put least into the bag to maintain it. But in truth, this whole affair depends so much upon the good temper and prudence of the Wife, that no other Argument; or consideration will answer your desires, if they be wanting.

But be advis'd; however unendowed the woman be, let not her kindred be necessitous; I mean falling from what [Page 122]they had: For in confidence of your relation, they will not fail to hang upon you: and in case that you think it much, you'll be judged unkinde and churlish; and the wife for their sup­ply, must either prove unnatural to them, or else be tempted to become less faithful to you.

But if it be your purpose to raise your Fortunes by a Wife; 'tis the first advice to look high enough, because 'tis possible such an application may prove; and if it do not, the discredit is the less, to be disappointed in an arduous attempt. And however, the probabi­lity is the greater; for he that hews at a well-spread Oak, though his strength may fail to get it down, yet is more likely to be supply'd, then he that onely aim'd at some simple Ha [...].

It is best too, to fix upon some grow­ing Fortune; such a person whose Re­lations by prospering in their way, make a fair addition to the present portion; for all that comes in on free cost: and though not to be trusted in, as no dead mens Shooes are; yet if it comes, it [Page 123]doth well; and so much the better, be­cause not lookt for.

And the same reason should induce to marry such as are akin to Land; I mean, that have not many Heirs to stand between them and an Inheri­tance: For money is a disposable com­modity, and in the passage doth easily stick to the hands of those who have the power to transmit it. But Land is an apparent visible Estate, which the Law hath so provided for, that it can­not be diverted, or conceal'd. And therefore is found sometimes running in those chanels, which lay off, in a great unlikelyhood, in respect of the first Fountains; as I could particularly give instance in a person well known to me, into whose hands an Estate fell in less then twenty years, between whom and it, there were six and twenty per­sons who intervened.

And here also may regard be had, to such Relations whose good word and countenance may be an help and furtherance to you in your way: For it is an old saying, A friend at Court, is as good as a pound in a mans purse: and there is a kinde of Smock-Simony, [Page 124]which may be more lawful and more gainful then that of the Black-coat; when a man may be Son-in-law, or kinsman to the next good place that falls, or at least may be handed in to such a convenience, as where one may converse with gain, or by experi­ence and counsel may be fairly put on; or by the reflection of the Sun which shines on such a friend, may be made more lightsome and perspicuous to the view of those, which we have a minde should see us.

Having thus fixt upon your choice, the next consideration is how to obtain her: Wherein 'tis of principal use, to discover the highest affection: for as there is no person so unlovely, but thinks her self worshy to be loved; so is there a natural inclination in love [...]o beget love, and (unless in some par­ticular exceptions) seldom fails of pro­curing, if not so much kindness, at least so much commiseration, as gives an aptitude to condescension.

Especially too, if love be recom­mended with such becoming importu­nity, as well admits of no denial; when [Page 125]Rhetorick is not strained by a bum­baste expression; but such words are found out, as seem to be onely dictated by affection, wherein the heart hath the greatest, and wit no other share, then to give them a lovely pronuncia­tion.

Wherein such constancie must be observ'd, as may give the greatest evi­dence of your affection: for women being sensible that this is that wherein their strength lyeth, and that they are never likely so to domineer, as now, when your hopes are dead or alive as they smile or frown; they take plea­sure to Tantalize you, and shew their own preheminence; and do by you, as those Chirurgions, who though they intend to make a cure at last, yet to serve their own turns, keep you long in hand, and intermit their lenitive emplaisters, with those which may cor­rode and vex you. And in truth, wo­men never so well revenge themselves on men, as when they send them sneak­ing away, disappointed in their ex­pectations: and that which is the mis­chief on't, the business is not acted in a corner, but the world must be a pub­lick [Page 126]witness of the defeat; when in the midst of all your gallantry, you are routed Horse and Foot, and triumph­ed over by such an enemy, as gives no other reason why she will not, but be­cause she will not.

And therefore in such cases, they must be dealt with, as Stalkers do with bobbed Partridges, give them time till they may be brought about again: for their own inconstancie will not let them be long in the same minde, but that Weather-cock which stands to the cold North to day, you my finde (per­haps) to the warm South to morrow.

And here observe also, that there is not a little Rhetorick in gifts; of which Solomon saith, That they blinde the eyes of the wise: Wherein 'tis discretion to make choice of such, as may be not so much costly as pertinent; such as are likely to gain her acceptance, by fitting her humour, rather then by drayning your purse; and such too, as may most and longest be expos'd to view, and be the opportunest Orators in your behalf. And for this cause your cost­ly treats must be of rarer use, which are almost forgotten as soon as the taste [Page 127]is off the Palate; and are then onely useful, when by their jollity they may allay an austerer temper, or you are in hopes that by a more publick conde­scension, there may be a stop given to any purposes of retracting: Other­wise doubtless privacie affords the best woing; and they will then comply most, when they may hide their blushes in your bosome.

But if you fail of your expectation, and your suit want success; let it be your care to come fairly off, by no means indeavouring to abate your disgrace in the disappointment, by casting any blemish upon the person you have made service to: For as I al­ways abhorred that love, which because it could not speed, was converted into hate; so have I thought their come-off no less unworthy, who to qualifie the blemish of their being denyed, have made no bones to throw dirt in their faces, where before in their officiousness they would have kiss'd their breeches. It is therefore doubtless more noble to let the world see, that you had integri­ty in your intentions, and were ra­ther unfortunate then base; mistaken [Page 128]rather in the thoughts of your own worth, which is common to men, then in the conceptions of her worthi­ness; and being still desirous to keep those as friends, whom you cannot obtain as neerer relations: For verily methinks 'tis very unjust, not to pro­secute those ever with all common courtesies, to whom one ever present­ed any conjugal pretensions.

But if you be so successful as to obtain, be remembred 'tis now the time to be considerately joyful, and to observe the golden mean of mode­rated freeness: not to lash out into such extravagance, as may render you su­spected to the sober; nor guilty of any such poorness, as may justly subject you to the censure of the wiser: For as the day of our espousals, should be the day of the gladness of our hearts; so is it great folly to let the stream then overflow its banks at such a rate, as that the Chanel should be the shal­lower for it ever after. For though I am no enemy to Nuptial Feasts, yet I have thought them no less then mad, which to fit others with Wedding-Gloves, have brought themselves in [Page 129]a few years to want working-day Shooes; running so far in debt, to make that one day joyous and paunch-gutted, as hath made all the rest of their days mournful and pinch-bellyed. Whilst others therefore wish you joy, know the foundation of it must be in your selves; and that is likely to be most, which so begins, as that it may hold out, and taketh care that the Gar­ments of the following years may be made (at least) by the pattern of the Wedding Clothes.

Being now safely moared in the hap­py harbour of a well-disposed wife, let it be your first care to promote her Piety; which I do not speak of as 'tis thy duty, but as expedient to advance your content and well-fare: For as doubtless 'tis no mean policie to be good; God either giving such his bles­sing in the things of this life, or recom­pencing the want of these with the things of a better: So is Religion not the least of those means, whereby all societies are preserved in their particu­lar interest, being call'd Religio (as some will) à religando, binding our mindes [Page 130]in the conscience of such duties, where­in no other consideration would prevail with us.

And upon the same score, 'tis great prudence to preserve in the freshest greenness, that conjugal affection, which if it did not at first bring you together, yet doubtless should be of prime de­signe in this condition; Love being like that Salt and Sugar which doth season, and make acceptable those oc­currents, which without it would bite upon the Tongue, and beget disgusts most indispensible. And verily those Husbands are Fools, who think to have the subjection of their Wives, not by the exercises of affection, but the asserting their own authorities: For whatever is compell'd, waits for an opportunity to be deny'd; and they that rule over the unwilling, finde the trouble as great to keep in obedience, as the pleasure to be obey'd. All com­pulsory being a violent motion, which upon every cessation of the vis motiva, returns again to its natural bent; when as that which is from a principle with­in, moves regularly, and is commonly most active in opposition. For which [Page 131]cause we read that Love is as strong as Death, and many Waters cannot quench Love; it being that active affe­ction which makes us willing to do, willing to suffer, willing to give, and willing to forgive: for Love covers a multitude of sins, not onely by over­looking them, and allowing the fairest interpretation to all that will admit it; but by being ready to condone what might be done amiss, and accepting of any acknowledgement for satisfaction: Thus sodering by a speedy composure those casual breaches, which disaffecti­on still makes wider; so that what was at first but accidentally offensive, by after-exaggeration proves to be the cause of a final separation. And there­fore without doubt there should be the greatest caution to preserve this affecti­on like the Apple of the Eye, which no mote may offend; and to compose those strifes with the greatest speed, which may give an allay to a mutual kindeness: for doubtless they are in­excusable, who upon occasional discon­tents affect a sullenness, & think to give a weight to their anger by the continu­ance; whereas in very deed, all that [Page 132]time the Heart frets; and Love, if it do not lye a bleeding, yet grows faint, for want of the exercise of kindeness; and will not be long ere it fall into a consumption, if such occurrents be but as frequent, as they are pernicious. And surely in this case 'tis vain to strain ceremony, and expect who shall com­ply first: for we will not say who is the stoutest; but of this we are sure, they that comply first, they are the wisest.

And here observe too, that 'tis great­ly expedient (if such disputes happen) to avoid all such language as hath any bitterness in it: For all such sinks deep into the minde, and is hardly oblite­rated with any after-excuse, giving cause to suspect that it was the issue of a festered heart, and that a precipitate passion did not produce it, but discover it: so that what might easily be com­pos'd, as to the matter of the offence, proves almost remediless, as to the words.

And with this, you may take notice, that nothing is more mischievous then such an expression, as may profess a disaffection: For assure your self, there's [Page 133]much of wisdom, even there to make semblance of the highest love, where 'tis but indifferent; and to behave your self with all such expressions of kinde­ness, as may give no cause to suspect that you love not: For if once they are perswaded of that, they take you for an enemy, and make it their business to plot against you, and lay contrivances to advance their own interest with whatsoever hazard of yours. And if once it come to that pass, you may bid farewel to your peace and content while you live together: For the joynt interest between the man and the Wife is the great soder of their affairs, that which doth cement their designes, and concenter their purposes. For as it was said that they twain shall be one flesh; so is it intended therewith, that their interest (twofold before) should become one, that with a joynt endea­vour they may drive on the good of both; which therefore should be ten­dred with as great a caution, as that Rin'd which causes the Graft and Stock coalescere, and thrive toge­ther.

For which cause, I ever thought it no prudence for man and wife to have two purses. The Bed and the Purse be­ing two things, wherein a mutual sharing breeds kindness and confidence; and they are seldom double, where there is not division. For, as without doubt there is all the reason, that she who joyn'd hey Stock to yours, and put in her Portion, should enjoy so much of her own, as to please her self in that to which she hath a particular liking: So is it best, that she do that out of the common Purse; wherein 'tis like she'll use greater prudence and moderation, then where she is her own carver without inspection. And as on the one hand, a private purse doth incline to a private designe, and tends to pro­mote an interest that is too particular­ly their own: So on the other hand, where they are kept short, and depriv'd of that freedom to command your purse in a measure that is convenient, they repine at their restraint, and either wish in their hearts that you were re­moved, or apply themselves to such shifts as are base and degenerous; sup­plying their desires by such unhand­some [Page 135]means, as many times prove not onely dedecorous to them, but pernici­ous to you: For while you refuse to supply their expences on the score of your kindness, they are induc'd to seek for those that will; and think it just to make repayment in that coyn, which whether you will or no, they must have in their own keeping.

And for this cause, it is greatly expe­dient to be as accommodated (as pru­dence will allow) to the humour of the wife, so as may be most to her content. For there is none of them which marry with an intent to be slaves, but promise to themselves that pleasure and convenience in your Socie­ty, which they conceive themselves un­capable to enjoy without you; which if they want from you, their own wit induceth them to seek elsewhere. Whence it is, that I have known some who came to the Bride-house with the greatest affection, promising to them­selves as much content in an Husband as their love and good opinion had rais'd their expectations up to; but after, being disappointed in their ex­perience, and finding the Tavern and [Page 136]company sharing so deep in what they lookt for, they grew desperately discon­tent; and thinking it equal to requite their neglect with the like, they soon found out those who would attend up­on them with that courtship and com­placence which their grumbals would not. And verily who could think the thing unreasonable? for while friends on both sides did lament the mishap, they could not but acknow­ledge that the thing was just: For by our nature, home is animal politicum, and especially the woman, whose very creation was for society, and with the designe that man might not be alone; and therefore above all things, they hate Anachorism, and can with no pa­tience indure to be mew'd up till mid­night, while you, it may be, are club­bing it at a Tavern: and you cannot think it a wonder, if at such a time they sport with your servants at home, when you are abroad; which you may judge done not for knavery, but meer divertisement.

And further, do but consider how long that love is like to last, where the blundring Husband comes home like [Page 137]a sous'd Hogs-head, with a steam of smoke and drink would almost choak a Greenlander, who hath been fed with blubber: Imagine now how acceptable such a Porpise must needs be to the neatness and curiosity of a well-bred woman, who cannot but loath a spectacle of that deformity; and cannot but contemn that ridiculous poll, which blatters forth any thing that comes next, to the just provocati­on of a more stayed and temperate judg­ment; so that what should deserve their love and respect, becomes the loathed object of their contempt and scorn.

And that which is the mischief on't too, to see the codled fool take upon him in that tune, and exercise his Hus­bandly authority, like a Mayor of Queenborow, and with as much discre­tion: when the discreet woman sees her head nodding out his commands, with less wit then a Gander on a Green; which she does, and laughs at, grieving in her heart that providence hath joyn'd her, where an Horse and an Ass must draw together: And then you may bid farewel, not onely to [Page 138]that love which you might have had, but also that authority you should have: for never think that that wo­man submitteth willingly, to whom her Husband behaves not himself like a man of understanding.

And by this you may perceive how much the discretion of the man con­duceth to the marring or making of the Wife. For of how many hopeful women doth daily experience give us an account, whom their Husbands fol­ly hath miserably undone, while they have cared rather to be serviceable to their own present humours, then their future content; or have thought it better to deal in hacking and hew­ing, then in a gentle bending those plyant Osiers, which might easily have been wrought, as prudence would have had them?

And I believe you will finde with an easie observation, that wives general­ly are easier drawn then driven; and that there are very few, even of the best of them, which will fairly bear to be sowrely told of those things, which yet they are willing to mend. And therefore all such plaisters must be [Page 139]softly applyed; and a wariness had, not to finde fault in the hearing of o­thers, which may beget a distast in those things, where no unkindness would be taken upon a private rebuke. And in very deed, the reputation of a Wife in this point of her sufficiencie, should be tendred by us as a choice con­cern, especially among those over whom she exerciseth any thing of command: For you will soon finde a very small matter will give those occa­sion to despise her authority, who by your conviction shall be judg'd worthy of blame. And truely 'tis hard to vin­dicate young Wives from the contempt of their Servants; who will much more readily deride their petty in­discretions, then obey their reasona­ble commands; especially when the new maid is an old play-follow, and is almost to learn the difference be­tween sport and obedience; or is some stanch Trout that hath been so beaten to the world, as hath put her, though not out of the need, yet out of the conceit of being commanded. And therefore to assert the Wives authority the more, 'tis best that she rule the roast altoge­ther [Page 140]in the house; and if you inter­pose, it should be rather by way of advice and assistance, then superiority. And in very deed they are pittiful souls, which can't let the women alone with their Pipkins and Pies, but are peeping to finde fault in the feminine jurisdiction; and esteem it one of their eminent virtues, that they are ve­ry frugal in Dripping and Kitchin­stuff.

But the truth is, there's a great deal of reason that the Wife should al­ways be born with, as the infirmer; there being many occasions not onely to disturb their discretion, but also to perturb their passion; the crasis of their bodies being more humid, and subject to that Planet which is most mutable. Besides the many infirmities which Child-bearing bringeth; the obstructi­ons, fumes, and opilations which be­fal their more delicate constitutions: up­on all which it is meet, we should give honour to the wife, as the weaker vessel; not contending with them, be­cause we are more robust, but bearing with them because we are so.

Yet in all such things wherein you [Page 141]comply with the desires of the Wife, 'tis much the best to act in it freely: For if they must watch to take you in the humour, or work it out of you by their own art, they congratulate their own skill, and acknowledge no kindeness; so you lose the thanks, and lay no obligation: whereas the main designe should be to ingage af­fection by kindnesses flowing, and not strain'd; and even there, where ne­cessity denyes, the refusal should be so convey'd, as that she may perceive 'twas so, because it could not be, not be­cause you would not that it should be.

If providence so dispose of you, as that you marry a Wife that brings Children with her by another Husband, as your concerns are more, so ought the exercises of your prudence too: And the rather, because there lyes on you that general suspition, which all Father-in-laws labour under. And therefore to prevent that, 'tis good to walk by that general rule, To do by them in all things, as if they were your own. And verily this (not onely a con­science of your duty should induce you [Page 142]to) being plac'd by providence in the room of a Father; but also a dread, lest such a successor should be given you, who may retaliate on yours the un­kindness or injustice you have exercised to them. And doubtless, if ill-gotten goods bring such a canker with them, as soon eats out the estates they come to; there's none devours with a greater greediness, then that of the Orphans and Widows money; God having ta­ken that title upon him, that he is the God of the fatherless and widow, to let the world know, that he hath a pecu­liar Guardianship of the concernments of such, and will himself revenge their injuries, though their impotence make them more liable to suffer, and less a­ble to vindicate their sufferings. And withal, your care should be as studious for their education, that being not the least wherein we shew our pater­nal kindeness to those that are ours. And if the Fowls of the Air leave not their youngs ones, till they have shew'd them the way to get their own livings; it should be your chief endeavour to do that business for them, which death prevented their own Father in, that he [Page 143]could not do. Neither think much that the Mothers kindness seems most to these: for there's reason that she should compensate the Fathers loss with a more abundant tenderness, and ex­press that a double-portioned affecti­on, which before ran in a duplicated, now but in a single chanel.

Now supposing you to be in the way of House-keeping, let me give you some of my experiments for your di­rection: and the first shall be a cau­tion to avoid those Hangers on, that are the flies which attend the flesh of others Tables, and requite you with their maggots; such as your chare-wo­men, and men at a call, who make it their work to rob you under a finer no­tion then that of plain stealing; or at best, like those beggers who give you an half-farthing wand, that they may receive your twopence. Such as these shall your servants have to serve their turn with a wet-finger; and pay them largely, not with their own money, but your meat: which if you connive at, they praise you highly, and you are their very good Master; and when [Page 144]they have undone you, shall do you this kindeness, to say 'tis pitty, for you were no bodies foe but your own.

Yet think not much to be free in the relief of those you know to be poor, and labour with industry to get their own livings: For Alms to the idle, is like grease to a Cart-wheel, which makes it go round the easier, but still upon the same axle; whereas supply to those who are wanting, yet labo­rious, or impotently necessitous, is a debt due to their want; yet of that na­ture, that while we pay what is their due, God accepts it as a loan, and hath put himself under an obligation to make repayment. And truely I have observed, that while I have known many undo themselves with riotous House-keeping, entertaining needless guests, and idle-bellies; I could never yet meet with any, who could say he he was the poorer, nay, not the richer, for such acts of charity, as were done to the needy: But that such distribu­tions, like the loaves of our Saviour a­mong the 4000, leave behinde them more baskets of fragments, for the heirs [Page 145]to give away, then the principal was in quantity, which the Father so ex­pended.

Yet let me tell you, 'tis no wisdom to make your servants your Almoners, and allow them the liberty of disposing your Charity; for one hand to give, is enough in a purse. And that Charity is the best, which hath the spirit of discerning; and like that Boy, gives Hony to the Bees, but hath a whip to drive away the drones.

Be here advised too, not to be given to the humour of costly entertainments: For I have often seen that men of that fancie, have inverted the Calendar, and have found their Fasts after their Festivals; who when they have spent all, have been as welcome to their guests, as a former Wives old Cloathes to a new-marryed Bride. Besides, the obligation which you lay by your cost on those which are entertained, is for the most part as far below it, as the Church of St. Faiths is beneath Pauls Steeple. For the most at such encoun­ters, are more concern'd to censure your expence, then acknowledge your kindness; and generally jeer at some [Page 146]things you might fail in, rather then fairly accept what you courteously in­tended.

But the entertaiment of great per­sons is a greater vanity: For such think they oblige you, in doing you the honour to eat up your Cheer; which to them who fare sumptuously every day, is scarce lookt upon as extraor­dinary; so that instead of accepting your civility, they resent it as an affront that it was no richer; and what shall be indeed profusion in you, will be lookt upon but as the Wrens pissing in the Sea to them.

But what I have here said of enter­tainment, I intend not of such as are accidentally guests, persons that come to visit in kindeness: for unto such as these, entertainment is due, and ought to be free, and proportioned to the quality of the persons concerned, with that heartiness and plenty, as may abundantly speak for you, that they are welcome: and in very deed, such intercourses as these, are necessary to preserve a mutual friendship, and keep alive the remembrance of that kin­dred and relation, which otherwise, [Page 147]like unremoved Logs, would grow in­to that earth, which at first begat them.

But what house soever you keep when friends are with you, let your ordinary and private fare be never costly; but such, as though the best in its kinde, yet plain and wholesome, to fortifie Nature, and nourish, not to tickle the Palate: for to please the dain­ty tooth, is an expensive humour, and doubles that charge which House-keeping bringeth; while the sauce is more then the Meat; and 'tis as dear to cook a Dish, as to provide it. And verily the vanity of some deserves our wonder, who are of that Heliogaba­lian stomack, to which nothing doth relish which is not dear, and fancie fish most when farthest from shoar; then onely loving Pease, when they are searce to be had; and Cherries, when they are ty'd on sticks.

In buying provisions, be your own Caterer; wherein at least you may have this convenience, that you may please your selt. Beside, however faithful your servant may be, so that he lets down no g [...]ats without a strain; you [Page 148]cannot expect that he should part with your coyn, with that care and difficulty as you would your self, whose daily feel­ing how much provision doth pinch, makes wary, and hard to be drawn to expence.

But be chiefly advis'd not to run on the score; for you may be assured, that with greater advantage you may take up money at use to pay ready down: For there's none of them all, but reckon how they forbear, and will be sure to be allow'd, not onely because they must stay for their money, but trust; there being nothing so certain in this world, as that which is present. You will also finde that a true Proverb, That the best is best cheap: For besides that in flesh, there's much the less quantity of bones for the weight, where they are covered almost twice of the thickness; in all other things you'll finde much the less waste, because that which is good goes down without scraps, while parings and refuse go a great way in what is not. Servants making no scru­ple to cast that to the Dogs, which they are soon apt to think is not good e­nough to themselves.

Be you also assur'd, that the best of Servants must be over-lookt: for it is rare to finde those, who will not make waste: and as it is fit they should have to the full, their meat being a great part of the wages of their work; so are there few, but do labour under ful­ness of bread; and none that consider of what they would be glad, when they come to keep a poor house of their own.

In your buying Provisions, you'll finde it the best to go to their Foun­tains: for the farther from thence, so much the dearer. There being no se­cond-hand but so licks his own fingers, as that while he hath his gains, the Commodity is inhanc'd; and that which is his livelihood, must be what you give more then he paid.

'Tis also best to buy by the great: All Chapmen complying much sooner for much then for a little; their gains by so much being the more considera­ble, and their put-off the greater. But then must your expenditor be wary, and so give out the store which you have provided, as remembring the place to spare, is never at the bottom. [Page 150]Beside the much more easiness to lurch the greater quantities, where a little ta­ken is not discerned: for which cause, it is not safe to trust a Servant at an whole heap; there being very few of that integrity, as then to keep their hands from picking, when none can witness they did prevaricate; or if they be such, it is not safe to tempt with op­portunity.

If God shall give you Children, it is the duty which each Mother to her off-spring owes, to be its Nurse, as well as Bearer; and therefore not to be neg­lected, but then onely when necessity makes the excuse: but if you put them abroad, chuse out a Nurse by these di­rections; whereof I have had so good experience, that in the placing out of fourteen of you, I never yet had cause to remove one, till it was time that you should be brought home.

1. Let her be a lively woman; those stiring spirits not onely having fewer dregs to make their milk unwhole­some, but their cheerfulness exhila­rates the Babe, and gives it a more pleasurable life and motion too; while [Page 151]such whose mettle can't abide to sit, must dance the childe about, or give it some such agitation and divertisement; when lumpish women let it hang in arms, till it be almost cripled for want of change.

2. Then let her be healthy com­plexioned, of such fresh ruddiness, as gives account she's not infirm: But chiefly care that she have no heredita­ry mischief, such as may be suckt in by yours unto its detriment, may be re­mediless.

3. Let her be such a woman too as is much given to be cleanly; so great conducement unto health, de­pending upon neatness in us all: But especially in such little ones, whom Nature hath not moulded to perfecti­on; but that 'tis purging out a more abundant excrement: For which cause, we may daily see the very Brutes officious in this kinde of care.

4. Then be she such an one as lives not by the penny, but hath a Cow or two at least, or such supplies as may prevent the pinching of the belly through want: For where the purse [Page 152]must bleed for every pint of Milk the Childe must eat, 'twill be not much improbable it many times may go without. Whence 'tis observ'd, that meant is much less free in all such houses (howsoever rich) where all comes in by daily purchase, then at the Farmers, from whose Barns and Stores there come supplies, for which no present money was expended.

Be careful too, the Husband be not given unto drink: for at some time or other, he'll come home in such a tune, as may indanger much the little weakling. And if in such distur­bances they many times do mischief to themselves, 'tis not but to be feared a greater mischief may accrue to such a little one as cannot help its self.

And it is best there be agreement 'twixt the man and wife: for none can tell what hair-brain'd tricks there may be done, when they are in a rage; or how the Childe may suffer then, when they can scarcely be distinguished from those are mad: For such contests which happen between men and wives, are mostly managed in so much heat, [Page 153]as frequently produce such actions as we then repent of, when we cannot help.

If thus you are provided, be not then too hasty in the fetching of it home: at two years end is soon e­nough; and that's confirm'd by my ex­perience in not a few, all kept abroad till they could run about the house a­lone.

But when they are brought home, be not a means to spoil your hopes with too much fondness. The less the Childe is loll'd in Arms, the better. And by so much the food of it be good & plainer, by so much healthier you shall have it: For all sweet things do cloy the Sto­mack; and dyet multiplyed in varie­ty, doth pose concoction to digest it, which better deals with simple food; from whence much easier, and more surely, it doth contract a firmer nourith­ment. And though Physicians gene­rally decry the use of Milk, as too too Phleginatick, and not convenient; yet doth mine own experience as much as­sert it; there being ten of you, who I believe may vye with such a number of [Page 154]any one mans in the world beside, for health, strength and straitness, who have been all true Trojans at a Milk­bowl.

And surely it is best, not to stint Children in their food; so that suppers be light, and not too neer to bedward: For those that are, are generally made more greedy by denyal; and if they light on opportunity, will gorge them­selves into a surfeit; when they that u­sually feed while they will, know when they have enough; and make not much then to give out, when as their fare is of the daintiestiest.

'Tis also best to break your Children of their wills, e'en with the soonest; and bring them to that pass, to know your will, not theirs, must be their Law: For 'tis a plague that's most intole­rable, to please them in their hu­mours; and as pernicious to themselves, there being sometimes a necessity their mindes should not be followed, which then they fret and sume at to their hurt; when as, when once they're taught but to submit, and kept to that, they forthwith leave off to dispute, and readily comply with that, which not [Page 155]their fancie, but your judgement shall think fit; and without blubbering, and stir, and cryes, give up themselves to a silent obedience: which is most easily effected by such a constant tenor of be­haviour, as is not in and out, but they made certain what to trust to.

Be also here advis'd, not to torment your Children with the curiosity of Ap­parel, when they (to keep their cloaths neat) must be restrained from exercise, as necessary for their health, as is their meat. Nature having so dispos'd the inclination of young things, that they are game some all in such a measure, that the more slothful creatures are ve­ry lively in then youths; and the young Calves and Lambs do skip and play, while their more sober dams look gravely on: And 'tis because there are more most and cruder h [...]nours or­dained to afford a freer nourishment for supply of growth, that stand in need of a discussion, and digestion more abundant. And veray [...]fe's none of us, though much in lined to deny our selves to serve our pride, but think it a restraint, vexatious e­nough, [Page 156]to be confin'd to touch not, raste not, handle not. And 'tis well worth the laughter, when the mimick Dame is trickt as neat as hands can make her, to see with what a caution she's aware, lest ought should touch her that defiles; and is in need of a glass cover, where bravery may well be seen, and yet secur'd. Then what vexation is it for a childe that's full of life, and fond of play, to be kept in without a motion, lest it should foul its apron, or put a knot or curl out of its pro­per scituation!

When they're grown big enough to send to School, 'tis best to place them out at board: for Children when put out to board, are taught be times to make their party good with others; and learn some measure in that art, to over­see their own concerns, which they have so much need of in the world. For in a kinde of little Commonwealth they learn those subtilties in smaller Volumes, which afterward doth help their practice in their weightier affairs; when those more elderly trapan the younger, till they abus'd, grow wiser, and learn more wit by their experience, [Page 157]which they soon exercise upon the rest. And surely I have seen so much of craft among these young ones, to bring to pass their projects, and cunning wa­riness to shun and disappoint an op­posite contrivement; that I have thought it could not be, that any Cat should mouse so well, as that thus pra­ctis'd in all taking arts, when but a kitling.

Besides the great advantage of their mutual derision, when 'tis a shame to do those things which are unhandsome, which they'll not fail to vex the faulty with; by which means I have known some soon reclaim'd, when sober coun­sel, yea too, and correction was with­out effect.

Nor is the help which they afford each other in their learning less consi­derable; when those less knowing may consult the wiser, and have a satisfacti­on more accommodate unto their un­derstanding, then by instruction that is supereminent.

They are too, under such a constant Discipline, so over-lookt, and sixt to mulde the main designe, and set beside occasions of diversion; that without [Page 158]doubt, if God do give wherewith to bear the charge, there's no expedient like this for their Education; provided that you use the greatest caution, both for their manners, and their learning: For great are the impressions that ex­a [...]pre gives in that to waxy age, which generally is prone to close with that which in its consequences is perni­cious.

For which cause I've observed many tincted with such looser habits, as have undone their Fathers hopes, and pro­stituted them to such a dirsolution, was irrecoverable. Besides too, the loss of time, when plac'd with those whose faculties afford not, or negligence in­deavours not that he should be im­prov'd, is of that sort which hardly can admit of a redemption; when sea­sons of instruction are knockt out by following casts, which are more fit to kiss the mistress of their present age.

'Tis therefore best to place them where they may be in a constant course of pions government, with such who are not factiously Religious, but ra­ther for the practice of it then the prat­tle, [Page 159]and for the power of it then the shew: For you must know, an high concernment is depending here, and the eternal interest of a soul. Good E­ducation having such an influence on the future life, that God takes Abra­hams seed as members of his Cove­nant, because he knew their nurture would be pions, that he would teach his children, and his houshold after him. And truely this might be per­swasive, not onely with the sober-mind­ed, but with those too, lets piously af­fected: For there are few sent out from Schools, where a prof [...]er Geni­us hath been predominant, which have not proved very dissolute; as might be instane'd in, in many hundreds, [...] con­venient.

Therefore let the Master be of that unblameableness, as may give greatest confidence no ill example may be given: For if the best of us are more inclin'd to follow those that lead us by pra­ctise, then by precept; surely those ten­der years, (less capable to judge the verity of what is said, and have their will conducted by their understand­ing) may well be tincted with that [Page 160]dye they see their leaders coloured with.

Let him be also not a Linguist onely, a person skill'd in, and able to teach the Tongues; but also one that hath a lively fan [...]ie, and expressive: for little is it for to speak, if not to speak to purpose, or with such taking efficacie as may lead captive the affections: and truely matter most important, if not laid down with such array of words and elegancie as becomes it, doth sel­dom take even wiser judgements, unless in the immediate exercise of a severe discretion, and odds as much, as beau­ty cloath'd in rags, and set out in its rich attire. And such a witty Genius thus instill'd into those greener heads when first inform'd, is like a dash of Musk and Amber, which gathers strength by atter-use, and gives an ex­cellent perfume unto those things, which otherwise would prove but mean.

And let him have an art to mould the Tongue unto a graceful Elocution, and such a way of Speech as runs like Oyl, and smoothly stroaks the Ear un­to an itch would still be farther scratcht; [Page 161]For what advantage is't, when tender Tongues are timely set in tune! which makes the self-same matter differ from its self, as much as Bowbel chimes do from the clanging of a Kettle.

Let him be too of a Gentile and generous demean, a person set beyond the state of a meer Scholar, whom Learning hath no farther favour'd then the head; but one that fetcheth thence a fair accomplishment for all concerns; when like to woaded Cloth, he takes all other dyes with greater lustre and more ease: One that may set impres­sions on their youth of all gentiler qualities, and give them such a tast of noble-mindedness, as may beget in them a value of their reputations; and takes them off from what's unhand­some, with giving them a sense that it's below them. Which way to deal with youth, is as far beyond the course of that severity which onely practiseth with them as with slaves, fit for no o­ther nurture then of blows, as is a principle of inward life, above that motion which is onely violent: For when as the one ceaseth with the force, and is no longer then the fear [Page 162]indures; the other (when once ha­bited) will bear them company unto their Graves; and when they're men, re­strain their thoughts from what is vile, and be a spur to such designes as may prove noble and heroick. And who can think it is a mean to breed up liberal Children and ingenuous, to cow their spirits, and depress them to such a dirty servileness, as knows no spur, but that of smart, and acts all duty still in the Bridewel of severe correction? And Government, which should have following obedience drawn after it by sence of benefit and kindeness, is like to tyranny with hang and draw, driving before it those, who onely do, because they must; being beaten out of love with what they should delight in, by being beaten. When the proud Poedagogue struts in his state, his Lads like quaking puddings all about him; and thinks that Boy will prove a Rebel, which looks not with as much abject­edness, as Venus when trapan'd by Vul­can. And don't you think that Youths when thus brought to their postures, to stand like Vagabonds fast at a Whip­ping-post; or at the best, like sneaking [Page 163]Taylors, are in a mighty forwardness to act their parts on the Worlds Stage, and be brought forth to such prehe­minence, as by their birth and wealth they may have hopes of!

And verily it is of great importance, that he who hath the government of youth, should be a person of a great di­scretion; as being (not onely to bend their irregularities by the rectitude and straitness of unerring principles, & give fixation to the fluctuating of their wilde and looser thoughts by such a Discipline as keeps them still intent to all the documents and exercises of ver­tue) but also to over-see the manners of so many, and with all vigilancie to prevent the pullulating of those roots of bitterness their hearts are full of: To deal in bending every slip, accord­ingly as it can bear it: To have discern­ing of their different affections, and move them all, by such expedients as are accommodated most unto their se­veral inclinations: To moderate in all their differences, and give such judge­ment as may easily evince his equani­mity unto them all. How great his prudence should be, and his moderation, [Page 164]that shall be judge without Law, of what shall be done amiss, making what he please an offence, and punishing that offence as he please. What judgement to discern the difference of tempers, and chuse out that diversity of application, which is to be dispens'd as is most sui­table to each particular Genius; with­al the condescention too, to the infir­mities of youth, and the allowance must be made unto those brains which are but gristles, and difficultly appre­hend what conceiv'd is as plain as is a Pike-staff, there being nothing-hard to those that do already know it.

But verily you'll find no choicer re­quisite, then that his spirit be elate and generous, and such as naturally scorns to stoop to those things that are un­handsome, though no eye be conscious: For great are opportunities which do occur to those that have the Tutorage of Youth, to over-bear them for their own advantage, and to compensate that wherein they loose, by freedom from those punishments, which like the Papal Pargatory they carry in their keeping. Beside the manifold tempta­tions to pinch them in their dyet, which [Page 165]no expedient can prevent in the dege­nerous and sordid-spirited: and no man wisely can commit the sustenance of his, which should be free, and of the largest, to supply the growth of youn­ger years, unto such base and avari­tious tempers, as think there's nothing vile which doth bring gain.

When placed thus abroad, be care­ful that you don't divert their studies, nor interrupt their strict attendance by avocations home, at any time which is not general: for all such callings off, don't onely intermit the business they're imploy'd in, and loose that time which might be profitably spent; but they go retrograde, and loose those things which they had got: Their Memories, like leakie Casks, soon letting out those rudiments which were with greatest difficulty there in­stil'd. And which is worse, they're thereby taken off and made less apt for those impressions which Learning gives, while love of idleness and play is more habituate, and they disturb'd in application of their thoughts, by the remembrance of that pleasure which they had at home.

But though you keep them thus a­broad, yet let them still be furnished with such supplies of money as you may conceive are suitable to such ex­pence as Children use: for thereby they'll be well instructed in that wari­ness and caution, which is required in all bargain-making, and in that petty trading that's among themselves, and loss, it may be of to them some preci­ous pence, they learn the art to deal in greater matters, and shun decoys which might draw in to things of disadvan­tage.

But when at home, or when abroad, be careful ever to exact an absolute o­bedience, to have your will observed as a law; for by that means you'll much facilitate your government of them, and make by custom much more tra­ctable all their designes to you; which may be done with as much ease as love, provided that the course be constant, whence Youth like Naggs which are well pac'd, will take pleasure and de­light in't.

When now they're fit to put into the World, be careful that, and now, you [Page 167]do dispose them; for there's no loss so great, as not to be put in a Way; nor can there be a greater mischiet done us, then not to be bred up to some con­venient imployment; nay though pro­vided for with a most large subsistence: For doubtless there's not one whom God designes to be an idle drone, when we read Adam, though in Paradise, was set to fill the Ground; nor any that was made onely for sport and recreati­on. And verily, a viler race we hard­ly know, then those among us, whose pastime is their onely business, and their consults how they may spend their time and their estates, in Riot, Cards and Dice; and rack their labouring Te­nants, to supply their prodigal excesses: Contemning those as pittiful Mecha­nicks, who by some useful art conduce to Commonwealth, while they them­selves are without any Mysterie, and onely know such arts as make them vile. Therefore if God shall so far bless you, as that you have an ample patrimony to bequeath to yours; yet bring them up in some such way, wherein they may be useful unto com­mon good, and able to promote their [Page 168]own concerns: For there's no reason that's more evident (except Gods curse upon ill-gotten goods) why such E­states which Fathers in the City get, are quickly run out by their Heirs, then that they're bred up, not to get, but spend. Beside the common penury of those (even in their large re­venues) who have no means to add to, but do spend their yearly income, whereby their wants of money greater are, then those who by some gainful Trade provide for their own main­tenance. Hence do we daily see those Gentlemen out-vy'd, who onely live upon their means, though of some hun­dreds by the year, by such mean Trades, which by a wary and indu­strious management, afford a fairer and more free subsistence, and have a ready cash supply'd by daily gettings; when those with empty pockets long for the rent-day, with an anxious ex­pectance. And which is worse, their Children, which have been bred up to bear a share in sport and prodigal pro­fusion, are at the end turn'd off with­out any portions suitable to the quali­ty they have been bred in; whereby [Page 169]they become pittiful Parasites, to lick their fingers at elder Brothers Tables; or if they have more spirit, seek their Fortunes by such expedi­ents, as do conclude them in untimely ends.

But be advis'd of two things, in the disposing of your Children into the World.

1. Weaken not your Estate so far for their provision, as that it grow faint, and not able to hold out for your own handsome sub­sistence: For though the stock should be free for the supply of the Bran­ches; yet so, as that there may be to keep its self lively. I my self knew a person of good worth, the gray Hairs of whose Estate lookt thin for lack of moisture, which was too freely expended upon his nu­merous off-spring; and I have of­ten griev'd at the sight of his re­trenchments, to see his Chanel brought so low, as unable to bear a weighty Vessel, meerly to af­ford a larger current for his deriva­tions.

2. So order your matters, that your Children may ever know, that the branches bear not the root, but the root them; and so reserve your Estate in your own hands, as to command their obedience by their future expectances. For as 'tis re­trograde, that the River should go back to feed the Fountain, and Chil­dren treasure up for their Parents; so is it rare to finde out that affecti­on, which shall ascend to such a proportion as it descended. And the vast experience which the World af­fords of persons whose indulgence hath undone them, and laid them prostrate unto their contempts, whom (had they still reserved what to bestow) they might have found as servient to their nods; may well induce the wariest caution here, and make you wise still to retain the power, as to command the spitting in your Parlour while you live.

And now you are suppos'd to be in the last passage of your life, like [Page 171]ripened Corn in such a tendencie, as gives back to the Earth that bare it. And here be not concern'd in such contrivancie, as may designe a pom­pous Funeral; for cost expensively laid out on that, will very little turn unto account; and don't agree with such reflects as should be made by us upon our Graves. It more concerns us to take care to make us friends of the un­righteous Mammon, and be such Stewards of those things with which the heavenly providence hath intrusted us, as best agrees with those designes, for which he hath profest that he doth give them to us. And though there be no merit in Alms-deeds, as Popish Doctrine would perswade us; yet to do good, and to com­municate, are such sacrifices where­with God is well pleased. And there is much in that Speech of the Angel to Cornelius, Thy prayers and alms-deeds are come up in re­membrance before God; being there rendred as the reason why Peter with the Gospel is sent unto him, be­sides the many promises made of re­payment [Page 172]of what shall be so laid out; so that it is not to be doubted, but the best use that we can make of our goods, is, that they be imployed in the relief of the necessitous; and that the best way to treasure up, is so to spend. If therefore God shall bless your sub­stance with increase, remember that there is always this interest due to him; and while you take care to provide for your own Family, let not Gods Houshold (the poor) be unprovided for: which will be an expedient so to take your leave of this the present world, as that your exit may be with a plaudite. And ten times better 'twill be for you to have the poor to follow your dead corpse, with their acknow­ledgements of your Charity and Alms­deeds, then to have the Town-talk of you, that you left thousands behinde you in your Coffers. And verily, that is an unthrifty providence, that with a many bags designes to make a purchase of the Town-talk, which for the most part proves to be sinistrous, when much more happily we may be carryed hence, perfum'd with that acceptable [Page 173]remembrance which our perspicuous vertues leave behind us; and if we may call this ambition, there's certain­ly no better can befal us.

WE read, Matth. 26.7. of a woman pouring an ala­baster-box of oyntment on the head of Jesus; and John 12.3. we are told the person and the quantity; but the action there, is not applyed to the head, but to the feet of Jesus: Not that this was not the same time when the oyntment was poured on his head, or that John mistook the head for the feet; but that the Spirit might relate both the anoynting of his feet, and therewith Mary's wiping his feet with her hair; and the end of both, which is there declared, that it might be for his burial; and the reason of that, from the practice of the Jews, who were wont to anoynt the bodies [Page 176]of the dead; and that, not onely that by the odour and fragrancie they might prevent any less acceptable smell, which the body might offend with, but (I suppose) more chiefly to preserve the body from putrefaction: For which cause we read, Luk. 23.56. of spices and oyntments, prepared for the body of Je­sus. And this their custom, 'tis like, was continued from the time of Jacob, whom Joseph commanded his Physitians to embalme, done with so much curio­sity, that forty days were spent about it; and that, but the usual rate of those who were embalmed, Gen. 50.3. And this ad perpetuandam memoriam mor­tuorum, which all Nations have had a desire to.

Some by stately Structures and Se­pulchres of highest value, as Artemisia by her Husband Mausolus.

Some by material representations; as the Romans by their imagines Majorum.

Some by Cities built, or Castles, and called after their own names; as Alex­ander the Great by that in Egypt; and of later times, the Duke d' Alva by the Citadel at Antwerp; four Towers of which bare the Characters of his Name and Title.

And some by preserving the body in­tire by curious oyntments and em­balmings; at which the Egyptians were such excellent Artists, that I have read of one body, kept in its due shape for two thousand years: and to this preservation of the memory doth the Text allude, preferring a good name to that purpose, before precious oynt­ment.

For putting the question in the last verse of the former Chapter, Who can tell what shall be after him under the Sun? What remembrance there shall be of a man after he is gone hence; he adds, A good name is better then preci­ous oyntment.

So that you may see here, as it were, the Wiseman stepping forth with a pair of ballances in his hand, and therein weighing a good name against precious oyntment; upon which truti­nation you have the censure given on the right-hand, that a good name is the better.

In the words we may observe,

• 1. What is here preferr'd A good name.
• 2. To what it is preferr'd as the better, o precious oyntment.

In the handling whereof, we will first shew what a good name is, and then why the best embalming.

As to the first: a Good name is a laudable conception of a person which hath seised the mindes of others, arising from something of worth, which they apprehend by him.

This conception ariseth from some­thing whereby we perceive a person to have gone beyond the common rate of men, or at least common corru­ption.

Whence divers persons have obtain­ed good names, as they have ex­celled,

1. By some profitable invention, whereby they have been useful in their Generation to the good of others; in which respect we finde the Scriptures recording, Jabal the father of them that dwell in tents, and Tubal-Cain the in­structor of every artificer, Gen. 4.20, 22. Thus also in heathen Story we finde the memories celebrated of Eurialus, the first inventer of Houses, and Triptolimus of the Plow. And so that Faustus the inventer of Printing; for­tunate by name, and by success, shall [Page 179]not want an honourable remembrance while the Press knows how to imprint Characters in his Memorial. And thus those Philosophers, the Inventers of curious and ingenious discoveries, perpetuated their Memories to Posteri­ty; and Aristotles Monument is still lasting in his Writings when the cost­ly Sepulchre of Mausolus is no where to be found.

And this is such an embalming, that the Heathen deified those who were the Inventers of profitable Commodi­ties; as Liber the finder out of Wine, and Ceres of Corn, enrolled in the Ca­talogue of their gods.

2. By being publick-spirited, and willing for the general good to deny their self-interest. Thus Cym [...]n the A­thenian is memoris'd not one'y for his Piety to his Father, and his Mar­tial acts, but especially for his Charity, in that he laid his great Possessions com­mon for the poor Athenians in a great scarcity of Victuals. Thus we have the Decii, Horatii, and Fabii, regi­string their names among the Romans, in that they accounted it Dulce pro­patria mori. And the Scriptures re­cord [Page 180] Jehojada, buryed among the Kings, because he had done good to Israel, 2 Chr. 24.16.

3. By being useful to promote and advance the concernments of their own Families, by providence and industry; whence that Houswife in the Proverbs, who considereth a field and buyeth it, &c. is dismist with this Elogium, Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates, Prov. 31.31. When those unprofitable drones, who spend their time to trick up themselves, that they may see and be seen, perish in their own rottenness. And when such as refuse to give to the poors bellies, that they may make gal­lant their own backs, shall like a can­dle expire in their own stinks: Then the dead Dorcasses shall have the coats and garments shew'd, which they made while they lived to cloath the naked with; and shall be followed out of the world with this discourse, that they were full of good works, and alms-deeds which they did, Act. 9.36, 39.

4. By being publick-blessings to the places where they live, to the Families they have been of, like chariots and [Page 181]horses, for publick defence and orna­ment, 2 Kings 13.14. like Abraham, and Jacob, and Joseph, and David; such as leave behinde them, not onely imi­table acts, like the faith of the Grand­mother Lois, and the Mother Eunice; but in the remembrance also of whom, God should please to do good to their Posterities, 2 King. 8.19. such who are for Walls and Bulwarks; for whose sakes God will spare a sinning people.

5. By being exemplary in acts of Moral vertue. Thus we have Aristides registred for his Justice, Regulus for his fidelity, Scipio for his continencie, Curtius for his moderation, who was Dictator ab aratro; and Tubero for his contented poverty, who did caenare fictilibus in ipso Capitolio.

6. By Faith and Patience, and the exercises of Grace; by which some have purchased better names then of sons and daughters, Isai. 56.5. Whence the Apostle saith, Jam. 5.11. Ye have heard of the patience of Job. Ye have heard of the faith of Abraham, and the con­stancie of the three children: and you may see a Catalogue of Worthies, [Page 182]whom it hath pleased God himself to register, Heb. 11. of whom 'tis said, All these obtained a good report; such whose names are written, not in earth onely, but also in heaven.

Now why such a good name is better then precious oyntment preserving the memory more then the best embalming, will appear, it we consider,

1. That it is the most certain expe­dient to continue our Memorial: a man may be deprived of other means, which he may designe to himself, by the iniquity or Executors; but this a man is sure himself to put out of doubt. Miltiades the Athenian, though forbidden burial, yet hath raised up to himself a never-dying Mo­nument by his vertues. And Supio, though inter'd in his own house, hath left his memory better preserv'd then if he had been pressed with a Py­ramid.

2. That it is the most durable. He­rod rob'd and spoil'd the Sepulchre of David, but could not spoil his memo­ry: that God himself remembers many years after that he was fallen asleep, as an argument why he should [Page 183]shew mercie to his Posterity. This is the way to place a mans Memorial be­yond the reach of men. It sometimes so falls out, that those who by their Fu­neral-pomp have been plac'd inter superos, among the Gods above; at the next turn have been dispatch'd ad inferos, rendred vile and accursed by all imaginable indignities: Like Claudius Caesar whom Seneca reigns to be thrust out of Heaven, and sent down to Hell. But a good name admits of none of these misadventures, often shining brighter by obscuration: as T [...]ritus saith of C [...]ssius and Brutus, whose Ef­figies were not shew'd it the Funeral of Junia; Praefulgebant Cassius, at (que) Bru­tus eo ipso, quod effigies eorum non vise­bantun.

3. That it is the most perpetual expe­dient: Not onely most durable against the force of men, but also most perma­nent against the tyranny of time. This is it which that Edax rerum can make no prey of. But when the most lasting Marbles fret, and prove un­faithful unto their inscriptions; when a deluge of forgetfulness drowns the most pompous Funerals; then a good [Page 184]name shall buoy up the memory, and preserve it from the common inunda­tion.

4. That this is an expedient of our own making. Embalmings, costly Se­pulchres, are done for us, not done by us: But a good name is that whereby we embalme our selves. 'Twas a true Maxime of the Stoicks, Quae extra sunt, nostra non sunt, like that of the Poet, Et genus, & proavos, & quae non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra voco. But in this, like the Phoenix, we gather together for our selves spices, and celebrate our own Funerals.

5. That God himself is willing in this respect to be the Physitian, and em­balm the deceased with this sort of embalming. You may therefore ob­serve, how that through the whole Book of the Kings, the Lord is pleased to break the boxes of his sweet Odors over the Sepulchres of the good Kings; so that as Paul saith, 2 Cor. 5.1. When the earthly house of this taber­nacle shall be dissolved, we have a building of God, an house not made with hands: So may we say here, that when the stately Sepulchres of the interred, [Page 185]shall crumble into dust, then shall the good men have their Epitaphs [...], not made with hands, but such a Sepulchre, whose maker and buil­der is God.

6. That this puts a vast difference between those that are embalmed with it, and such who are not. We in our thoughts put no great odds between two wicked men, though the one lye under a stately Monument, the other on a dung-hill, but we fear that they may be both gone to their own place: But we have a far different estimate of a good man, though cast out into the Common-shore, then we have of any wicked person, however sumptu­ously interred: For which cause we finde so vast a difference made between the exit of Jehoram, and that of Jo­siah, 2 Chro. 21.20. and 35.29.

The Text thus explained, may be applyed,

First, for our instruction in these par­ticulars.

1. Hereby we may see the way, how we may emerge out of the com­mon Grave, how we may render our ashes discernable, among those which [Page 186]are cast out into the common Urn: How to disappoint Death, that great Leveller, that with his Sythe cuts all down, and lays all in the Swarths of the wide field of this world: How, though a Diogenes, you may beard an Alexander; when those who caused ter­rour in the land of the living, lye all down in the pit among the uncir­cumcised in the grave, Ezek. 32.20. and in that very day all their ambitious thoughts, and all their oppressive thoughts perish; and their remembrance perisheth from the earth, and they have no name in the street, but they shall be forgotten as untimely births, Job 18.17. Then shall the good mans name, like Aarons Rod, blossom among the dry­ness of the rest of the world, and his remembrance be perspicuous. His life being discernable in the lustre of it, ha­ving indeavoured to make his light shine among men. And verily, hereby you may know how to prevent the stilness of the Grave, the hushness of Death, and the forgetfulness of the Le­thean Lake, when we go hence, and shall be seen here no more: By this means we may volitare in ore piorum; [Page 187]and being dead, may yet speak, Heb. 11.4. When your imitable holiness, pati­ence, faith, godliness, justice, and so­briety, may be the instructers of future Generations; and they that are yet to be born, shall tell their Children, as an incouragement to well-doing, in what eminent acts of Grace you have ap­peared for God; and in how great works of protection and goodness, God hath appeared for you.

2. Hereby you may know how to cast Rose-water upon your own Rosemary; how to perfume your own relicts, better then by the costly oyntments and spices of the Merchant; how you may render your selves grateful and acceptable to the remembrance of good Men, An­gels, and God himself: for by this means is Noahs name honourably re­membred by the holy God, many hundred years after he had slept with his Fathers in the Grave, Ezek. 14.14.

3. By this means you may know how to prevent the ill-husbandry of your Heirs, and to raise up better Pil­lars to the perpetuating of your names then that of Absalom. A certain Judge [Page 188]of this Land lying on his death-bed, making his Will, wherein he bequeath­ed great possessions to his Son; said of them, Nunc mea, nunc hujus, & postea nescio cujas: which words of his prov'd something prophetical, there being scarce any thing left of those large pos­sessions to the fourth Generation. So uncertain, so very uncertain a mean is acquired wealth, to continue our me­mories to the remaining world; there­fore how much better is it to have thy name registred among the Acts and Monuments of good men, then to rear up material Monuments to our selves, or to have our names continued by a doubtful Posterity?

4. Hereby you may know how to save your Executors the labour, and cost too, of going to Rome for a Saint­ship. There is an easier, readyer, and bet­ter way to do it, and that without wait­ing either the Popes pleasure or leisure: there be many in his Catalogue of Saints, that are not so in mens thoughts, and there's reason to believe neither in Gods court-roll; not there, where those names are written which are written in Heaven. But those who [Page 189]in the Popes Hag [...]ography are exalt­ed to Heaven, many of them may be fear'd to be cast down to Hell; and some of those rais'd up to Heaven, whom he hath curst with bell, book and candle. But whosoever by an up­right life, hath written himself a Saint, in the acknowledgement of his own conscience, and of good men, shall finde it also so written in the Lambs book of life.

Lastly, hereby, on the contrary part, you may be informed,

1. How vile it is to bury our selves in a dunghil, and make the stench of our corruption more noisome then o­therwise it would be, by an unprositable life; when we do not onely render our selves not desired, by being useless in our Generation; but are, as it were, kickt out of the world by our Relati­ons, as a cumber and burthen to the earth we tread on; when we are onely consulting how to eat, and drink, and sport our selves; and are like the fatted Swine, whose death is desired, because then onely profitable: When men neither by any useful imployment increase their own wealth, nor by [Page 190]any acceptable quanties ingage the af­fection of others, but are like smoke to the eyes of those which they con­verse with, by crabbed conditions, and by prodigality and ill-husbandry have with their own hands buryed their Estates, they may well expect like a Candle which hath first consumed all its own fat, to go out in a stink, and as they deserve, like Coniah, to be buried with the burial of an ass; so will their memories be soon as rotten as their pu­trified corpse; and instead of that em­balming of a good name, which is better then precious oyntment, their remem­brance shall be abominable to their own, and noisome to all that are good.

2. How detestable is it by a debauch­ed life to render your Posterity asham­ed of your remembrance, when you burn a brand of repreach upon your succeeding Generations by unhand­some acts; so that they blush to hear your name mentioned, and wish that your memories might be buried with a speedy oblivion. The Law saith, Deut. 23.2. that a bastard shall not enter into the tabernacle of the Lord to the tenth [Page 191]generation. And verily, how often is it that the Generations to come very long after, are reproached with those acts of uncleanness, oppression, cruelty, and villany, which were committed by the Fore-fathers! and as is said, Cant. 8.7. of love, that many waters cannot quench it, neither can the flouds drown it; if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly con­temned: So may we say, that no cost can purchase off this blot; no expence, no Heroick worth of Posterity can purge away this reproach; but like a fretting canker it eats through the most solid Marbles, and leaves an ugliness which no hand can mend; a filth which no sope, no nitre can wash off; a stench that all the odors of Ara­bia cannot prevent the odious resent­ment of it.

3. How abominable a thing it is, to be the patterns of notorious wick­edness to the Generations to come, and have your names registred among the black Regiment of those who have been the Bell-weathers to the residue of the World, to lead them forth into those actions which are facinorous; when [Page 192]like Jeroboam the son of Nebat (who is so often mentioned in Scripture, as a cursed pattern of impiety and ido­latry to the Kings that followed) you should be remembred as the authors of wickedness to others. As Cain, who though so many thousand of years since, yet is recorded as the first mur­therer, 1 Joh 3.12. For as those mens names are worthily historied, who have been patterns of well-doing to the residue of the world (as that Lam­bert of Greenwich, who is memoris'd as being the first in the resurrection of good works, after the demolishing of Abbies, building the first Alms­house in Queen Elizabeths days:) So is it the just demerit of those, who by wicked practices have led the van in that black Legion of evil doers, that they should have their names branded to Posterity; and be, as it were, hang'd up in the chains of a just detestation, for the terror of others. Hence is it that in Divine story Chams impiety is both recorded and accursed.

4. How lamentable is it, by notori­ous wickedness to entail curses upon our Posterities, which they may smart [Page 193]for, either with us, as Corah, Numb. 16.3. Achan, Josh. 7.24. or after we are dead and gone, as Jehoram, 2 King. 9.25. when not onely we bring a speedy destruction upon our Children, as it fared with Jeroboam, from whom was cut off, him that pissed against the wall, so that of him there was none shut up nor left, 1 King. 15.29. But also burn those marks of Divine vengeance, which are never worn out, as Gehazies leprosie cleaving to his posterity for ever, 2 King. 5.27. and Gods curse upon Elies House, 1 Sam. 2.31. which you may see sadly felt, by the following Generations, 1 Sam. 22.18, 19. 1 King. 2.27. And hence it comes to pass, that Posterities, though less flag [...]tious, yet approving the sins of their Fore-fathers, do smart under those severe judge­ments, which the Fathers enormities justly merited; yea, and sometimes too, when they have been forgiven to the Progenitors; as the sins of Manasses required of his Posterity, though par­doned to him. And from this cause it is, that some Parents do not onely prove cheats to their Posterities, leaving [Page 194]then shews onely, instead of substances, while they leave them ill gotten goods, which like Pillars of Salt quickly resolve into water, and flect away from those that possessed them; but they do also (as it were) kindle a fire in their own Houses, and lay trains for the blow­ing up of their Families; when the curse of God justly due for their sins, like a Fire long in kindling, breaks out at last, to the utter ruine of their Poste­rities, and subversion of those designes of greatness and perpetuity which they had imagined. Hence we see those stately Structures built, that they might be the Mansion houses for their following Generations, and there­fore called after their own names, either quickly changing their owners, who by ill-husbandry and riot throw them­selves into the mouths of greedy U­surers, or else Gods severe judgements of the Sword or Pestilence, soon root them out thence, and in a few years 'tis scarce remembred that any such had a being there. Sin being of the nature of that leprosie spoken of, Lev. 14.44. which will not be cleansed, till the [Page 195]house be broken down, and the stones thereof, the timber and the morter be thrown out into an unclean place.

The next Application of the Text may be to exhort us,

1. To lay our selves decently in our Graves. It was the ambition of the Ancients, that at their death, they might lay down their bodies in comely po­stures. And even they that laid violent hands upon themselves, were chiefly solicitous in this, that they might not fall so, as to become an unseemly spe­ctacle. Thus far certainly the same minde concerns us all, that we go not out of the world in an uncomely man­ner: not wallowing in our own vo­mits, nor hurried hence with our own luxury and intemperance, and as it were dig our own Graves with our disorders; cutting asunder the thred of our lives, which otherwise 'tis probable might be much longer pro­tracted: For our lives are short of themselves, but much shorter do we make them by our excesses; when we quench our natural heat by slouds of [Page 196]intemperance, and contract those diseases, which like an eager canker soon devour us, or else deprive our selves of our own reason, becoming sots; and burying our understandings before our bodies; or in distempered fits exposing our selves to dangers and precipices, to the breaking of our necks, or otherwise hastening our de­partures.

For what more direful sight can there be, then to see a man not made a brute onely by his slot, but that comely body which God hath given, rendred most ugly and deformed; and either carbonadoed with hotter lusts, or inflamed with hotter drinks, or discerpt and mangled with inhumane wounds, and carv'd out before their burials, as a fitter feast for worms?

But it more concerns us, that we do not by wicked and nefarious acts, expose our selves to a dedecorous and shameful end, as the just guerdon of our demerits; and become an horrid spectacle to all but our very enemies, when even those good men, who re­joyce in the justice exercised on us, [Page 197]yet abhor the thoughts of us, and our wickedness, which brought upon us so severe a vengeance; our relations re­turning with shame on their faces, wishing that our lives had never been, rather then so ended.

On the other side, how much more happy are they, who lay themselves down in the bed of honour, ending their lives in some noble explots, where­in though death prevented them of a triumph, yet have triumphed over death its self, leading it captive, and out-living their Funerals; imploying future ages in prolix discourses, to ce­lebrate their worth, and publick-spi­ritedness: The sence of this made the Spariane women taking leave of their sons and friends going to battel, wish that they might either receive them alive as Conquerors, with applause; or else with joy follow their Funerals, as of those who had valiantly ex­pended their lives in their countries defence. It being, in their opinions, the first degree of happiness to live use­fully, the second to dye valiantly, and so honourably.

And therefore when we hear of those who have expended their lives in some worthy enterprise for their Countries defence, in some notable discovery of unknown Regions, or in some magnanimous act of fortitude, constancie, justice or equity, in some general calamity, tumult, or epidemical madness: We cannot but congratu­late their worth, though we bemoan their mishap, and prosecute their ex­equies, at how great a distance how­ever, with our acknowledgement and admiration of their merit; though cast over-board, it may be into the Ocean; or torn in pieces by the roaring Can­non; or overwhelmed with some breach; or expos'd to the Fowls of the Air, or Beasts of the Field, in some far remote Country; or devour­ed by the inhumane mouths of greedy Canibals: yet we acknowledge, that though they were buried ignobly, yet they departed strenuously, and took their leave of the world, not as un­profitable ones, disgracefully kickt out of it; but as those, who left behinde them desires of them, and have that [Page 199]honourable interment in the mindes of those who are virtuous, which they were denyed by the iniquity of their present fortunes: and though we wish that our exit out of the world may be more successful yet we cannot but wish that it may be no less glorious. Hence we emulate Sampson, though buryed under the ruines of that great Palace, because in his fall he was fully re­venged of Gods and his enemies. And we rather approve of the death of va­liant Ʋriah, though slain by the Sword of the children of Ammon refusing to lye with his wife on Davids motion; then if he had melted away in the softness, and ease, and indulgence of his beloved Bathsheba, 2 Sam. 11.11. And without doubt, those holy Mar­tyrs when they expired in torments, being consumed in the flames, and (as it were, translated out of this world in a fiery Chariot) sent their beholders back with wonder at their Faith and Constancie, and secret wishes that they might be enabled by Gods Grace to bear so great and sharp a brunt, and by such a death to glorifie God.

For which cause, we read in Ecclesi­astick story of those who upon such Spectacles, ultro se cruciatibus obtule­runt; publickly professing themselves Christians, and exposing themselves to the tormentors cruelty; and as the Apostle speaks, not accepting deliverance, that they might receive a better resur­rection.

To go out of the world perfumed with the excellent odor of a good name; that like Demetrius, 3 Joh. 12. we may have a good report of all men, and of the truth its self. A good report,

1. For thy devoutness toward God. Nothing more ornaments our persons, nor credits our names, then holiness: for though it often expose us to the scorn and derision of naughty men, yet those, while they scoff and deride the good, secretly admire and honor them; there being that lustre and brightness in holiness, that though it dazzle the eyes of the perverse, so that they hate to look upon it, yet they cannot but acknow­ledge its beauty, and reverence those whose faces are made illustrious by it: [Page 201]For we observe, that there is imprest upon the nature of man, an acknow­ledgement of that which is good, to be good, though their corrupt affections and lusts will not let them comply with that good they know; and con­sequently, they hate those that do, as the publick reprovers of their vice; the rectitude and uprightness of good men as a rule, being applyed to their ob­liquity, discovering their exorbitancie and transgression: yet what their in­ward esteem of holiness is, may be calculated by the impression it makes upon their mindes, manifested by those [...] Captains at Ramoth-Gilead, 2 King. 9. who, while they call the Son of the Prophet a mad fellow, after the wicked gaise of their deboist Tongues; yet shew what estimation they had of him, in that as soon as they knew his Message, they presently haste and blow with trumpets, proclaiming Jehu is King; a business of that import, as would have cost every one of them their lives, if it had not succeeded, and therefore requiring mature deli­beration, though it appears not [Page 202]thought of before. And hence we may observe, how far even a shew of holiness in that Impostor Mahomet prevailed to attract followers. And in later times in Africa, what feats the Scrifii effected by the same means; making themselves, from poor School­masters, to be the absolute Commanders of the most rich and flourishing Coun­tries there.

But how much more excellent fra­grancie hath an holy life in the nostrils of all those that are truely godly, who cannot but prosecute with all affection those, who in the remotest parts of the world, they hear are in this kinde ex­emplary; their memorial being as a sweet-smelling Nose-gay, which they desire often to repeat the sent of; and in the recordation of their vertue, take no little delight, having their graces actuated, and made more lively, by the remembrance of their faith and good works. And here you may see, how excellent it is to be one of the Stars in the Firmament of Gods Church, to shine like a light in the world; to be of publick conduct and direction to [Page 203]others: so that our death should be like the fall of the General of an Army, not of a private concern, but publick loss; when our departure is like the Eclipse of the Sun, which leaves men in a maze, and seems to bode some gene­ral calamity.

And this is the more, as we are of more general use, and frand in the way of service to others; when we are as a candle set in a candlestick, to give light to them that are in the house, the less of the family, or the greater of the Church and Kingdom. How deservedly therefore did Jeremiah and all Judah mourn for Josiah, and all the singing men and the singing women spake of him in their lamentations, and made it an ordinance, that they should lament him, because of his goodness, according to all that was written in the law of the Lord, 2 Chr. 35.25 26.

But this is yet more perspicuous, when it is a light shining in a dark place, when a man appears illustrious in Ho­liness and Religion, though the re­sidue of the world lye in profound ignorance and profaneness; when like [Page 204] Noah we are found upright, when all flesh had corrupted their way before God, Gen. 6.12. 7.1. And like righte­ous Lot in the midst of a wicked So­dom; when the whole City from every quarter appear in notorious violence, and unnatural lust, Gen. 19. When like Elijah, we are very jealous for the Lord of Hosts, then, when we think our selves onely left. From which cause, we see how precious the names are, of Peter Waldo, John Hus, Jerome of Prague, Wickliff, Martin Luther, and others, who were like Sparks of shining Diamonds amidst the dark and ruder rubbish of the rest of the world.

2. For our sobriety toward our selves, for our temperance, moderation, continencie, that we have known what is that golden mean, that debita pro­portio, which doth not run out into drunkenness, luxary, gluttony, or whatsoever is in the excess of super­fluity: Nor yet that covetousness which doth deny the lawful use of those things which God hath given us. Neither melting in jovialities, nor con­fin'd with too much morosity; not [Page 205]precipitately hasty, nor delatorily flow; not squandringly profuse, nor chur­lishly detaining; but behaving our selves like Adam in Paradise, in the midst of our enjoyments, having our Weights and Measures by us; allowing our selves such a quantity, as right rea­son, and our conveniences, require of us.

3. For our righteousness towards men, that we have behaved our selves towards all others, in all things, accord­ing to all those rules which justice doth require, being careful to perform the duties lying up on us, in the seve­ral relations wherein we stand to o­thers. As we are general Citizens of the world, that we give every one his due, honour to whom honour, fear to whom fear; to visit the sick, cloath the naked, relieve the necessirous, right the oppressed, bear with the weak, en­tertain the stranger, give drink even to an enemy: that every creature hath tasted of your justice; your cattle grieve that they have lost so good a Master, when, as Solomon saith, you have been merciful to your beast.

If you are Husbands, leave a name be­hinde you, that you did love your wives, as bone of your bone, and flesh of your flesh; that you gave honour to them as the weaker vessels: That you provided things honest before all men; living with them according to know­ledge; and furthering their faith and joy, as being heirs together of the grace of life.

If you be Wives, leave a name be­hinde you, like those ancient holy Women mentioned, 1 Pet. 3.4. that your care was not to trick up your bodies, but adorn your souls with habits of vertue; and to be perspicuous in the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of great price; that your plots were not how you should spend the day, or what tacling discourse you should have at the next idle visit; but that you did con­sider a field and buy it with the fruit of your hands: that your lives were not ta­ken up with murmurings, and querulous clamours; but that you did open your mouth in wisedom, and that in your tongue was the law of kindeness.

If you are Parents, leave a name be­hinde you, that you brought your chil­dren up in the fear and nurture of the Lord; that you did not go before yours with the dark Lanthorn of a loose and profane conversation, but that you did shine before them, in that holy ex­emplariness, whereby you might be a pattern to them of purity, and an ho­ly life.

If you are Masters, leave a name behinde you, that you always had a sense upon you, that you also had a master in heaven; to whom you must give an account: that it was your care, not only that your servants should serve you, but they should serve the Lord; and had rather they should loose a days work, then that God should loose an hours service.

If you be Magistrates, let not your dead hands smell of bribes; but let it be said, that vice was your utter enemy, which neither for fear or af­fection you would shew any counte­nance, but that you made it your business to be an incourager of those that do well, and a terrour unto evil doers.

As thou art a Subject, let it be said of thee, that thou wer't none of those who did speak evil of dignities, nor re­fusedst to yeild a ready complyance to any of those burthens, which may conduce to thy Princes honour, and thy Countries welfare: but didst con­sult for all such things, as make for general good, and publick peace.

If men speak of you, as you are a member of the Church, let them cele­brate thy obedience to those that had the rule over thee in the Lord: That thou wert not factious, but as thou con­tendest for the faith once delivered to the Saints; so thou wert careful not to break the golden chain of brotherly love, for the scruples of opinion, but tookst care to preserve the unity of the faith in the bond of peace; being con­vinc'd that there is more prudence to overlook gross infirmities, then to be apt to separate; and that there is more Christianity in amending our private faults, then in reprehending publick e­normities: Having always such a conversation as is becoming Godliness, [Page 209]and not denying thy Christianity by thy works. Thus to go out of the world, is to carry baskets of all sweet­smelling Flowers along with you, to cast into your grave; and put Rose­mary into the hands of those who do accompany your Funeral; and give a kinde of immortality to your own memorial.