Religion.

I Place Religion first, in obedience to Gods Commande­ment, who wils us first to seeke the Kingdome of Heaven, and the righteousnesse thereof, promising that all other things shall be added unto us. Againe, I give it the leading for order sake, imitating the Builder of an house, who begins with the foundation; which ex­celling both for matter, and well laying the [Page 7] whole Frame, will un­moved withstand the blasts, and rage of Wind, and Weather. This preceding, all things else readily fol­low which any way tend to the perfection, and happinesse of li­ving. It is so, it is so, most honor'd Lord: Re­ligion was never seene to goe alone, without alwayes a glorious traine of Vertues to at­tend, and (for the most part) felicity to accom­pany it. I say for the most part; because though God ever af­fordes [Page 8] his Children the true, ever flourishing, internall felicity, yet, hee often suffereth even the dearest in his eyes, to want the fading ex­ternall. On the con­trary, where Religion doth not waite on hu­maine endeavours, there the whole bodie of their actions is cloa­thed with imperfecti­ons. There is nothing which so much distin­guisheth Man, and Beast, as Religion; which is discovered in us, long before the use of our reason, it being [Page 9] ingrafted in us by Na­ture; as wee reade of Saint Iohn Baptist, and divers other Saints, who have made cleare, and miraculous demon­strations of their Zeale, even in the narrow compasse of the womb. This is a Heavenly pre­rogative peculiar to man alone; for that the other living creatures are rationall, many have disputed; but that they are religious, no man was ever so stupid to maintaine. It is an observation infallible throughout all Storie, [Page 10] that the more Noble Nations were ever the more Religious. Vale­rius said to the Romans, that though they regar­ded not their Citty, yet they should stand in feare of their Gods: which by their enemies were taken prisoners. It was with this polisht people a custome as commendable as usual, that the Consull, or Pretor, ever offered the richest of his spoiles to the same Gods in the Capitoll, unto whom there first hee pronoun­ced his vowes. In imi­tation, [Page 11] and emulation of these truely brave Heathen, doe you offer up likewise the first fruits of your noble heart, as a rent due to him that made it. Love with all your soule the Creator of it. The cause why you love him you must make himselfe, and the measure of that love must bee without measure. Submit your will to his, humbly de­siring his direction, and protection in all your wayes, and procee­dings. Let this assu­rance fullie content [Page 12] you, denying harbour to vaine curiosities, which will disquiet, not amend your mind. Weary not your selfe with Controversies, and needlesse nicities in Divinity, but leave them for learneder men, amongst whom I finde some who will not bee ignorant of Gods secrets, as if it were a matter of no­thing to bee saved, un­lesse wee also know what God will have unknowne. Thinke that sufficient which God hath thought [Page 13] enough for you, and seeke to know all that to salvation is necessa­ry, not to contestation. When Aquinas, and Scotus have vented, and banded all their subti­lity each against other, many wise men will judge it no other then a profound scolding. The Iewes proceeding this way infinitely taketh mee, who as often as they fell upon a­ny difficult place in Scripture, would say, Veniet Elias, & enodabit: wee know that Elias will come, and tell us all [Page 14] things. Those stirring wits that itch to pro­pound acute questiōs are fitly compared to the Sunne in March, who then exhales humours, but dissolves them not. And were their positi­ons only frivolous, they were more tollerable, but they commonly end in horrid Blasphe­my. Laurentius Valla hearing a Cardinall di­spute sublimely of God, and his subordinate Spirits, said to his com­panion, And I could pro­duce too such keene Ar­guments against my [Page 15] Christ, but I spare so great a Majesty. In a word; Bee not in Divinity an Aculeo, nor a Curio: but in all your doubts have recourse to this sure de­cider of all differences, Dominus dixit. What folly, nay, madnesse is it to spend a mans whole age in speculations, nei­ther necessary to this life, nor that to come? We have a wicked cu­stome in England, of Gentlemens studying the Controversies for ornament; not taking them to heart, nor hand­ling them with that re­verence [Page 16] they ought. Doe not you so, but love goodnesse in what Religion soever you finde it. Put not your sickle into the Divines Harvest, but leave it to those whom God hath marked for his Mini­stry. Raile at no Sect, for they that delight in wrangling, desire rather the confusion then the reformation of him they oppose. Much disputing, it may bee, God loves not, and for certaine, most men ab­horre. To this I may adde, that Truth is no [Page 17] way more involved then by that way shee is sought. Reade you therefore such Bookes as may enflame your zeale, laying aside those which onely satisfie your curiosity. Neither be onely conversant in those workes, which make against vice in generall, but enquire after such also as treate of those vices, to which you finde your selfe most prone. Physiti­ans, after they haue gi­ven a generall Purgati­on, use such Medicines as purge Elective, that is, [Page 18] take away onely that humour which is pre­dominant in the pati­ent. So you must not run over onely those Authors which meerly write against sinne, without descending un­to particulars; but in­tentively peruse, and dwell upon such as in­veigh against your own 2secret sinnes, onely knowne to God, and your selfe. If to any notorious vice you bee inclined (next your in­vocation of God) the onely remedy is to shunne the cause. Prae­sentia [Page 19] objecti naturaliter movet Potentiam: The presence of the object stirres up the Desire. To expresse my selfe more clearely: Fly that thing or that company, from whence your entice­ment comes. If in a friend an imperfection appeares, Friendship winkes at it: but if a vice, the hate of that makes her loath the thing beloved. Bee not you such as was Fabius, a Decemvir, of whom Livy saith, that hee chose rather to bee like Appius then himselfe. I [Page 20] am not of Bions opini­nion, that all friends good, or bad, are to be retained, least we either confesse our weakenes in conversing with the vicious, or our basenes in forsaking the vertu­ous. Another maine helpe is the rectifying of your will. The way to subjugate this, and render it conformable to the lawes of Reason, is a secret in the cure of the soule, knowen but to a few, and by fewer practised. In this un­troden path which leads to the Temple of Ver­tue, [Page 21] I will with alacrity bee your Lordships humble, and happy Guide. Your understan­ding must often, and ear­nestly informe your will. The reason why some who know enough, commit such grosse er­rours, is, that their un­derstandings check not their wils, or, if they do, it is so seldom, & so coldly, that they rather yeeld then conquer. On my faith, this one rule observed is able to make you Lord of more perfections then now you are of Akers. [Page 22] That you may obtaine from the Almighty a blessing of these and all your other endevours, receive often the Sa­crament. Remember him often that never forgets you. Frequency of Communion is a great, though not an infallible signe of conti­nuance, and promotion in righteousnesse. Saint Augustin counselleth the more perfect to receive every day. I advise not you to doe so, but think it enough if quarterly you faile not to execute this your holy duty. [Page 23] Your manifold affaires will hardly permit you oftener to make a seri­ous and devout prepa­ration, which must ne­cessarily precede the approaching to this san­ctified Supper. You must expel the old man out of your heart, and give up the sole gover­nement of it to the new, who admittes no Rivall. You must not onely strive to cleare your selfe of the infe­ction of mortall sinnes, but of the affection also to those which compa­ratively we call veniall. [Page 24] Having once shaken them off, you must be­ware that they take not hold againe▪ In these spirituall fevours, relap­ses are most dangerous, Great Divines doubt whether or no Saint Peter had done worse, had hee committed three severall sinnes, then he did in falling in­to one, and the same thrice. Finall impeni­tency lightly followes obstinacy in sinne; from which that you may be free, maintaine in your bosome a per­petuall warfare betwixt [Page 25] your Earthly and Hea­venly desires. Oppres­sion, Blood, Sodomy, Blasphemy, and the rest of that lowd-mouth'd packe, I am confident you wil make strong head against; Onely my extreame love, not your disposi­tion, begetteth in mee a jealousy that you may bee captivated by the two English Evils, Drinke, and Women.

Drunkennesse dispraised.

THe former is un­worthy of Man, and Beast, it having no ground in Nature, and therefore Seneca pro­perly stiles it a volunta­ry Folly. Hee that makes another drunke cōmits the greatest of thefts; in robbing him of a Iewell (his Reason) beyond value in its owne Nature; but if you consider its great originall, God, it is then much more endeared. [Page 27] So that here the com­mon Posy (not the guift, but the giver) holds not, for both the one, and the other are in their owne estimation, and valew incomprehensi­ble. Neither is this a solitary vice, but is ever accompanied with In­continency, wherefore wise Antiquity ever pi­ctur'd the lecherous Sa­tyrs Attendants on Bacchus. Yet are some wits like Franckin­cense, till they have taken heat from Wine they send forth no va­pour. But from such [Page 28] nothing solid pro­ceedes, onely flashes, and fumes that vanish into nothing. Against this vice there is no stronger Remedy then often, and seriously to consider the loathsome lookes, gestures, and speeches of Drun­kards.

Vnder this I compre­hend Gluttony, since Excesse is the common mother to both, and in each of them the crea­ture much abused. All hold that there is a great resemblance be­twixt the Macrocosme, [Page 29] and Microcosme, the great, and the little World, which is Man In the greater there is an established order; and should, nay would bee in the lesser, could the inordinate appetite of man bee brought to know the limits of Ne­cessitie. The irrationall Creatures wee see doe neither eate, nor drinke beyond their hunger, or thirst, therefore in my mind, this Phrase (Drunken Beast) is as im­proper, as usuall; it be­ing withall a great dis­paragement to the [Page 30] poore creature altoge­ther innocent of this excesse. Neither is this vice an enemy to piety, but to wisdome. Sapien­tia in sicco remanet, non in paludibus, & lacunis: Wisdome delighteth in a dry Habitation, not in boggs, and ditches. For this makes that of He­raclytus, Lux sicca, anima sapientissima: A dry light, a most wise Soule. That you may never erre in matter of Diet, looke that the quallity of that you eate, or drinke, be agreable to your constitution, and [Page 31] the quantity no greater then your stomacke can well overcome; which Galen implies when hee maintaineth Oportere patientem esse proportionatum Agenti: that the Patient must be proportionable to the A­gent. Wee see for the most, part old men eate not so much as young; and the reason of this is none other then that the Agent, or naturall heate is not of force to digest the Patient, or foode, if in great quan­tity it be received. This is the sum of Physicke, [Page 32] and I dare bee bound that a sound body, keeping this dyet, shall dye through a meare resolution of parts,Ex resolu­tione par­tium. without ever knowing Disease. This will de­liver you from Physiti­ans, who purge men of their humours, and the World of men. I insist the longer upon this, because I would have your life lengthned in this world, and your so­briety crowned in the other.

Jncontinencie discommended.

I Now come to the second English Evill, Women. If you saile by these false Com­passes, you shall be sure to sinke. Over and a­bove the incurring of Gods displeasure, you will sucke from their lippes their effeminate humours, and become uncapable of any charge in the Com­mon-wealth, and of all advise from your freinds. No man in the [Page 34] state of Grace can ima­gine what one of these pretty ones will per­swade him to, he being once enchanted. En­quire this truth of Slaves that have long serv'd in these Gallies. Your Lordship hath a great priviledge in ha­ving a lawfull remedie; So that if you can not honestly command your lust, you may ho­nestly obey it. Yet doe I earnestly beseech you to moderate this plea­sure, remembring that all things lawfull are not expedient. It is no [Page 35] slight treasure that these wantons robbe us off. Assay often, and vehe­mently to subdue these, and all your other affe­ctions rebelling against your nobler part; So shall you worthyly receive your Lord, ha­ving this master Com­fort, that you eate, and drinke your owne Sal­vation. Mithridates King of Pontus, having invented Mithridate, did by the often eating of it, so strengthen his nature, that afterwards, when hee would have poisoned himselfe to [Page 36] shunne the servitude of the Romans, hee could not possibly effect his designe. That immacu­late Lambe of God our sweet Saviour, hath instituted this Holie Sacrament, that whoso­ever eateth his body, and drinketh his blood worthily should not die, but have life everla­sting. The frequent eating of this Heavenly Manna is so strong an Antidote, that neither the poison of bad affe­ctions, nor the contagiō of wicked conversation can worke upon that [Page 37] soule to hurt it, which is once fortified with it. This is the tree of life, by which wee tri­umph over Death, and with the Lord of life, become fellowe heires of that Kingdome which from before all ages hee hath prepared for us. Before you pluck and taste this Divine fruit, knock your selfe on the Breast, and say, Lord I am unworthy. Thus doing, I with joy assure my selfe, dearest Sir, that your dayes shall bee long in the land which the Lord [Page 38] your God hath given you. Thus doing, bles­sings shall not stay your wishes, but come before and above your expe­ctation. Thus doing, you shall sleepe, and wake, rise, and lie down in security, knowing that you are under the protection of a Guard, which neither the poli­cy, nor power of Man, or Divell, can force. Thus doing, you shall give your enemies no cause to rejoyce, and your Friends none to greive. To conclude, thus doing, you shall [Page 39] go out of this World with honour, and enter the other with Glory, leaving behind you the Fame of a life wel lead, and so ended.

Care of your private Estate.

I Have seene one of the Athenian Sages, pictur'd with one eye cast up to Heaven, the other fixed on the Earth. The conceit, no doubt, implyes that the view of these two re­mote objects do beget in a wise brest two dif­ferent [Page 40] cares; the first whereof hath an eye to the end of his journey, the latter to the meanes. The one seekes for the fairest, and the nearest way, the other lookes to the Viaticum, or pro­vision for the voyage. Thus must you doe, excellent Sir, you must not with too much thinking whither you are going, forget where you are. As you minde the joyes and glory of the other life, so must you also the necessities of this. Thales the Philosopher was deri­ded [Page 41] by the old Gover­nesse of his house, in that through the earnest fixing of his mind, and sight upon the starres he fell into a ditch; the Contemplation of things a far off taking from him the remem­brance of those neere hand. So are they wor­thily censur'd, and scoff'd at, whom an ignorant zeale maketh give ouer this World, while they are yet in it, neglecting their estates and posterity, nay utter­ly forgetting those humane offices, wherin [Page 42] being defective, wee can not deservedly bee stiled men. These should consider, that if Nature would have exempted them from the condition of men, shee would by a third sexe have distinguish'd them from the rest. The misunderstanding of our Saviours words; in the 6. of S. Matthew, verse 25. hath abused many; they thinking that Christ in this place forbids all thought for this life, whereas, in­deed, he only prohibi­teth such a care as any [Page 43] way tends to a distrust of Gods Providence. My humble advice is, that you walke doubly provided, at once rely­ing upon Gods super­naturall helpe, and yet using the ordinarie meanes hee hath given you. Doe so, be an un­derstanding Lord, and let your wisedome war­rant you worthy your Title. Thinke twice how to maintaine your Greatnesse, for once how to set it forth, and (your Honor admitting it) oblige more your Posterity, then your [Page 44] Ancestors have done you. To be plainer, en­crease your Estate, if you can doe it without the decrease of your Reputation. Bee not like those who thinke it the prime and essentiall part of a Lord to bee ignorant of what hee hath. Enquire into the particularities of your fortunes. Know how, and where your Man­nors, and Rents lie. Let not your least revenue passe unexamin'd, but informe your selfe of the former, and present vallue of it. Learne [Page 45] what successively it hath yeelded your predeces­sors, and (the Lease being expired) let it ac­cording to the current rate of these times; else in shewing your selfe a Mercifull Land-lord, you may prove a cruell Father. Consider who have beene true to your Parents, and your selfe, and let your reward ore waigh their deserts. Omit not to take a role of all them who hold any thing of you, and marke such Names as have beene faithfull to your Family. These [Page 46] cherrish both with your purse, and coun­tenance, taking the bet­ter deserving of them into your service. To the off-spring of those whom you shall fynde branded with disloyal­tie to your House bee neither uncharitable, nor uncourteous: yet let them neither have so great a share of grace, or benefit as the former, except you see appa­rent, and extraordinary signes of Truth, and merrite in them. Be­leeve me, or (if not me) Story, that there is a [Page 47] Fatality in these things, and that perfidiousnesse often runs in a Blood. I may adde, the despaire will possesse the most honest heart ever to please you, who shall come to your service clogged with the me­mory of his fore-fa­thers demerits; and the comfortable advantage he shal come with who can assure himselfe that his errours shall bee bu­ried in the merits of his Ancestours. With the former take this gene­rall caution; that you set your Leases at such [Page 46] [...] [Page 47] [...] [Page 48] rates, as no man can have just cause to call you oppressour. Wisely consider that though a poore wronged man can not take from you your Titles, Riches or Friends; yet hee may fortake you from them. Despaire as she hopes no good, so shee feares no ill. Vitae tuae Dominus est quisquis suam con­tempsit; Hee is Master of your life who will forsake his own. Of this we have a fresh example in one of your Lordships own Ranke. This is one of the crying sinnes, and [Page 49] the voyce of it reacheth a note higher then any of the rest.

Thus farre of your commings in,Of your Expences. now of your layings out. Keepe a good set table that may not feare the ap­proache of halfe a score good fellowes. To this (in case Strangers of extraordinary quality come) you may adde according to your plea­sure. An orderly, yet liberal table continued, is by much more com­mendable, then these intemperate Feasts, which commonly are fol­lowed [Page 50] by as penurious fasts; So that vaine-gloriously to entertaine our guests, wee basely starve our Servants. Men of great ranke I would seldome invite, for it draws mony from you, and censure from them; such ever making 2the prodigallity, or de­fects of your table the discourse of theirs. I may adde the dangerous engagements they will invite you to, which you must either with the losse of your Wis­dome grant, or with the purchase of their envy [Page 51] deny. But if any eminēt Person without any in­vitation of myne should voutsafe me a visit, I would like himselfe, and my selfe receive him. Some, and those wise, know every night the expenses of the pas­sed day. I am not of o­pinion that your Lord­ship should be so strict, or put your selfe to that trouble, but I would perswade you to take an account of every weekes charges, and that at an appointed day, and houre, which I would not breake [Page 52] without a cause of great importance. Entertaine not many followers, least you leave behind you many beggars, and few admirers. Those you take once into your service, maintaine so as the World may wit­nesse for you, they want nothing due to backe, or belly: And when your last day comes, (which Iesus grant I may never see) leave them legacies, sutable to their severall qualli­ties, and deserts. So shall their childrens children magnify your [Page 53] goodnesse, and one Generation bequeath your praises to another. Choose your Officers sober, discreet, and ho­nest men; for if a mans nature lead him to wast and sharke, all your vi­gilancy will be in vaine. Dispositions quickly put on Habits. Bannish riot, and roaring your house, but alwayes be­ware of punishing a fault too severely in an old, and faithfull Ser­vant: Yet if you can not reforme him, give him meanes to live from you; so shall you doe [Page 54] him good, and keepe your family from infe­ction. We reade of Cato Vticensis, that hee with great study kindled, and nourished dissension a­mongst his servants, by which meanes he came to know all their actions, and conspiracies. Doe you shunne this course as you would do infamy, to which it leades. Let all your en­deavours serve to settle a firme concord a­mongst them, other­wise your house will become a common Pleas, and amongst o­ther [Page 55] inconveniences, this ensuing will bee one. You cannot so in­differently carry your selfe, but that your af­fection will appeare more to some, then to others. Now, if your people bee at variance, one will repine at the grace you shew the o­ther, judging himselfe wronged, and under­vallued by you. From hence will proceede a mixt report, one exal­ting, and the other de­basing you. And though your praisers surpasse in number your revi­lers, [Page 56] it will nothing at all availe you; men in these daies being more prone to harken after a mans vices then his vertues. Withall build on this, that those with whom you live are they must judge you. Who will desire your Cha­racter from any other then from such as are Eare, and Eyewitnesses of your Words, Deeds, and Cariage? Take heed therefore that Malice reigne not in your house, still re­membring that Heavē is the true patterne of a [Page 57] perfect society, and there Envy hath no place.

Weare good clothes but make it not your study to excell others in bravery. Follow the received Fashion, but do not adore it. Totus nitidus, saith Seneca, Totus stultus: All neat, al Foole. Your Lordship shall observe in the course of your life, that such as give themselves wholy over bodies, and soules into the hands of a Taylour, are likely litle wiser then he that fittes them. They may [Page 58] have a superficiall, but not an essentiall worth. It may bee objected that they often attaine to high degrees of ho­nour; to which I answer that no man is properly stiled wise from the e­vent. It hath been long my observation that they who strove to have the leading in Fa­shion, came behind in al the maine requisites of a Gentleman. We see Women to bee their chiefe admirers, and I dare bee bound that none of them was ever yet found who could see [Page 59] thorow a Milstone. On my credit the clothes oftentimes, judge the wearer. We see the wi­sest of our Westerne Nations, the Spanish, and the Italian, to bee this way the most mo­derate; They finding this thrift, and modesty in habit to be infinitlie beneficiall to the Com­mon-wealth. There is no Country under the Sunne, that hath such an Apocryphall Gen­try as the English, where the sonnes of Brokers blend with it, and out­brave, and precede the [Page 60] most Ancient of it, as if clothes had the guift to ennoble blood. All are permitted to weare what they can get, and their owne vallue de­pends on that of their raiment. Amongst the ancient Romans, all sorts of men were distin­guisht by their habit, so that at the first sight you might know a mans calling by his clothing.

Of Liberallity.

OF all the vertues in Man, Liberalli­ty is the King, it being often called Humanitas as derived ab Homine. The holy Fathers of the Church commonly u­surpe Pium pro Liberali: Pious for Liberall. Let your house be like that of a Tribune, never shut to the distressed: make your life nothing else but a giving to the poore. They followed Simo by troupes, and [Page 62] he releived them with handfuls. These voices are worthy the purcha­sing at a deare rate, be­cause upon them, places in Heaven depend. The onely way to be trulie great, is to give to these little ones. Make not your gifts common. In the giving see that your judgement, and affecti­on concurre. To the de­serving be like a tree o­vercharged with fruit, which boweth, and of­fereth it selfe to be pluc­ked. Confer your be­nefits on such as have honesty, and merit con­joyned. [Page 63] In my opinion he is not truly said to be a man of good parts, whose chiefe part, the heart, is rotten. On my life where that is false, nothing of vallue can harbour. Bee not your owne Chronicle too 2much in boasting of the favours you doe. Set not down your benefits in the Almanake. The Noble Giver, saith Sene­ca, should instantly forget the guift, but the grate­full Receiver never. This vertue is not placed just in the middle, but is nearer to Prodigality [Page 64] then Avarice. Not without cause therfore I adde this caution, that you be not too profuse in the distribution of your Money. Call to mind that it is as well the nerve of Peace as warre. By the helpe of it all things are acqui­red, save those of the mind, which are to bee had elsewhere, and by other meanes; yet to the obtaining of these too doth Diva Moneta afford no small aide. I may also truly averre that Magnanimity can not truly shew herselfe [Page 65] without it. Aristotles two extreames I would have you shun. Some men, saith he, are so spa­ring in their expences as if they were to live for e­ver, some so profuse, as if they were instantly to die. I have heard of some who have quaited away their mony, and played at Duck, and Drake with peeces; but my comfort is, I have yet read no Sentences of their cōposing. Charles the fift, as wise a man as the best of them, would tye a knot in a broken point, and [Page 66] reweare it; yet was the most liberall Prince of those, or these times. One of my Ancestours was so beyond measure free of his purse, that the Painters drew him with a Silver hand; if they had added an empty purse, the De­vice had beene most perfect.

Discretion in all your Actions.

IT now remaines that I treat of the discre­tion, whereof all your Actions must savour. [Page 67] This hath a large sence, but I will reduce it to as few heads as possibly I can. Guiccardin gives Ferdinand of Arragon, King of Naples, this te­stimony, That hee was a Prince for his counsels Deliberate, in his actions Rèsolute, and touching his affections very moderate. My God! what can man speake more of man? Wee will exa­mine the first part of the Testimony.

For his Counsels Deliberate.

A Wise Man consi­dereth, and weigh­eth al the circumstances of an action before he subscribes to it. Make a long pause betwixt the invention, and executi­on of a fact. Interpose a thousand doubts with their solutions annexed before you embarque your selfe in a businesse of importance. It is an over-worne but a true Proverbe, Two eyes see more then one. There is [Page 69] nothing more laudable in a Noble nature, then a desire to be informed. Hee that neither hath the skill to advise another, saith Livy, nor the grace to be advised by another, is simply of the worst di­sposition, and good for no­thing. Consult with many concerning your Affaire in hand. You shall never find a Iesuite fooled alone, but with him the whole corpo­ration of his Society is deluded. We see often the hand, foot, or some other particular mem­ber to receive hurt, but [Page 70] rarely the whole body. Here Guiccardin puts in a Caveat. Though no­thing, saith he, in great deliberations bee more necessary then counsell, yet nothing withall is more dangerous. His meaning is that Faith is a thing so hard to bee found, that a man can not without great ha­zard communicate his intentions. It is not now as in the Romans time, when betweene the many Conspirators a­gainst Caesar, there passed not one oath, they ha­ving no other mutuall [Page 71] engagement of Secrecy then the word of a Roman Gentleman. Since therefore you can not, like a Iesuite, finde friends obliged by Sa­cramentall Oath, to keep your counsell, take advise of the dead; I meane of your Bookes. These will present to your view Truth naked, without any disguising Coverture. These will not flatter you, being senselesse of your love, or displeasure: They neither hope for advan­cement, nor feare op­pression. Have recourse [Page 72] to History, wherein you shall find your pre­sent affaire in a hun­dred severall shapes. Amongst all the exam­ples which have any resemblance to your present Case, ponder well which carry with them reason, and which onely successe. Direct your course after the former, not the later; for if you judge of things by their event, you will miserably a­buse your selfe. It fol­lowes,

Jn his Actions Resolute.

WHat else? A brave Spirit (having once shewed himselfe in an enter­prise, and called it his) will goe through stich with it, and maintaine it against the World. Ha­ving well deliberated, and chosen an even course, let no man stop you in it, but run over your opposers. Being in the right, weigh no more the aspersions of the baser sort, then you [Page 74] would the dashing of an Asse, or the barking of a Dogge. Spreta exo­lescunt, saith Tacitus, si irascare agnita videntur: If you despise them they of themselves fade, and are griped by oblivion; but if they vexe you, it will seeme that you acknow­ledge your selfe guilty. It is hard to doe a thing that appeareth faire in the eyes of all men; for that a good action, what dignity soever it hath (if it bring not with it the favour of the Times wherein it is done, and the opinion [Page 75] of those into whose hearts it seekes to insi­nuate) it is but as a Candle that burneth dimme, whose shadow seemeth greater then the light. To this the Italian Proverbe is not dissonant; Assaiben salta, a chi-Fortuna can­ta: Hee cannot dance a­misse, to whom Fortune sings. Having the assu­rance of your owne conscience, that your proceedings are faire, and honest, slight the Censure of the muddy vulgar. Let Resolution and Constancy wait on [Page 76] all your intentions, and enterprises. Cockles, and Weeds wee see are with one wave carried to the shoare, and by another brought backe into the Sea, but the Rockes stand firme. Seeke to approve your selfe to the good, resting carelesse what the bad thinke of you; for wee owe neither the Divell nor his limbes any sa­tisfaction. But if any man of your own Ranke doe you an affront, shew that you are sensible of you Honour. Your Reputation, [Page 77] according to Ari­stotle, is your Stockes;This is not so conso­nant to the Doctrine of Christ, as I would it were. Wherfore prudently and Chri­stiāly shun all occasiō [...] of quarrel. What a wretched age do we live in that maketh effusion of blood, the onely meanes for reparation of honour, & teacheth us to make Gods dis­honor the foundation of our Fame? not yours, to which you should bee a bad Guardiant should you let it fall, and catch a crack. I have read a Fable, how that Repu­tation Love, and Death made a covenant to travaile ore the world, but each was to take a severall way. When they were ready to de­part, a mutuall enquiry was made how they might finde each other againe. Death said, they should be sure to heare [Page 78] of him in Battels, in Hospitals, and in all parts where either Fammine, or Diseases were rise. Love bade them harken after him amongst the Children of Cottagers, whose Parents had left them nothing, at Marriages, at Feasts, and amongst the professed servants of Vertue, the onely bond to tye him fast. They long expected a direction from Repu­tation, who stood mute. Being urged to assigne them places where they might finde him, hee [Page 79] sullenly answered his nature was such, that if once he departed from any man, he never came to him more. The Morrall is excellent, implying that Honour once lost never returnes againe. Loose then your fortunes, and life, rather then suffer this radiant Diamond to loose his luster. Else your posterity will wish you had never beene, and your friends blush at the sound of your Name. Permit not this Worlds most terrible, and horrid [Page 80] Accident to daunt you. Standing environed on all sides with Wealth, meditate on poverty. The greatest amongst the Romans, on certaine set daies of the yeere used course diet, and worse lodging, that so their Evill Genius might not finde them unprepared. Avoide all miseries as much as in you lies. Plus miserest saith Seneca, quàm ne­cesse est, qui miser est an­tequàm necesse est: Hee is miserable more then needs who is miserable before he needs. But if afflictions [Page 81] come never so thicke, and deprivation of the Sunnes light be one of them, embrace them with a smooth fore­head, and a manly heart, it being a thing most vaine to repine at what Necessity com­mands. A Palmy mind the heaviest waight of Fortune can never sup­presse. Experience hath taught mee that to bee irresolute is not to tem­per evill Fortune, but to tempt it. Seneca tels you, Sine morsa animi velle transire vitam, ignorare est rerum natu­rae [Page 82] alteram partem; To seeke to end this life with­out tasting any griefe, is to be willingly ignorant of the one halfe of Na­ture. Wee will now descend to the Conclu­sion of the testimony.

Moderate in his Affections.

I Have in the former part of this discourse given some generall rules for the modera­ting of passions, and I will now cursorily touch some of them in particular.

[Page 83]To lay before you the uglinesse of wrath I need not,Anger. you having the strongest habit of Patience, that I thinke any man of your yeeres ever yet acquired. The surest helpe against that furious passion, is slowly to apprehend all occasiōs that may incite it, &, being once appre­hended, to endevour the removing them out of the imaginatiō: for it is the Cholerick humor that having first vitiated the Phansie, stirres up this passion, which be­ing once kindled, by a [Page 84] kinde of sympathy en­flames more the mate­riall humour, and that being once throughly fired, strengthneth, and encreaseth the passion. Let not your Anger precede your judge­ment, nor afford it lei­sure; for it quickly be­comes master of the Place. In the beginning it is soone pacified, as greene wounds are ea­sily cured. But if unfor­tunately you fall into an act of choller, repaire it againe with one of sweetnesse towards the party offended.

[Page 85]Your Lordships na­ture is so little addicted to Mirth, that it were a sinne to prescribe limits to your joy. Notwith­standing, if you have a desire to bee merry within compasse, it is but going into Spaine, where you may buy Rules to laugh by.

I rather feare your erring in the sad ex­treame, to which I can not devise what should move you. You have as loving a mother as e­ver man had, in whom are all the vertues re­quired in a Woman, [Page 86] and with these the rati­onall abilities of a man. To double this blessing you have a sister, in whom who should have the greatest inte­rest a man would think Nature, and Vertue should be at strife, both of them having equally and infinitely obliged her, in whose due prai­ses even they agree who in all things else are opposite. But you will say; Fortune may take all these from me. It is most true, she may; but the memorie of their vertues shee can [Page 87] not deprive you of. It were more then folly in you to envy Death his due Triumph over Creatures, of whose life 70. is the ordinarie period, and 120. the utmost, who know the Worlds fairest body, the lovely Frame of Heaven in it selfe in­corruptible, and in his course observ'd so many thousand yeeres immutable, to bee sub­ject to destruction, and that all his glorious ta­pours shall loose that light with which they now glad the Movers [Page 88] in this inferiour Globe. This Fatall Law is not new, being almost as ancient as the World; the penalty whereof only two have escaped of all that ever yet breathed this aire. You will yet object, that God may deny you Children, the re­joycing fruits of Ma­trimony. Suppose it to be so; Will you ther­fore be displeased with his good pleasure? It may be he does this for your good, foreseeing that they would prove so many corroding [Page 89] Cankers in your heart. For ought you know, he may detaine from you, not the comforts of your life, but so many hasteners of your Death. Perhaps hee with-holds from you a Traitour, a Murderer, a Whore, a Blasphe­mer. All this is but to arme you against the want of these reputed blessings (they being such, indeed, to the greater part of men) for I trust in God hee will bestow on you many children, and such as shall be so many [Page 90] Cordials to your heart, so many honours to their Nation, and so many ornaments to the Age they live in. I should in vaine arme your generous mind, against the de­privation of the sense­lesse things you pos­sesse, as Iewels, Gold, Silver, and the rest. The Aristotelians (disdaining that one, and the same word should expresse their love to Men, and Riches) stiled their affection to the former, Amor, to the latter, Amatio. The reason [Page 91] urging them thereunto was, that they were possessed with an opi­nion, a Man did basely, and foolishly to doate on that which could not reaffect him. An Italian Author there­fore very properly gives Gold the Epi­thet of Amato non riamando; Beloved not reaffecting.

Your course of Life.

I Have much, and long importuned your Lordship with the opinions of a weake judgement; I will ther­fore onely touch three points which are very materiall. The first is your Course of Life; The second, your Discourse; The third, your Studies. The first is of great consequence if you well consider it. Your Lordship knowes I have heretofore over-vehemently [Page 93] perswaded you to affect the life of a statist, by which course you might advance your Estate, and attaine to a higher degree of Honour. I now most submissively, and ear­nestly beseech you to commit this propositi­on to your riper consi­deration, and except you finde yourselfe im­pregnable against the hazards that attend it, resolve not on it, but fetter even your ve­ry thoughts from the Court, so many incon­veniences being inci­dent [Page 94] to that Calling. If you be not advanced to places of Eminency, and that you see men in al things short of you preferred before you, from hence will spring a repining and a distur­bance of your soules peace. Grave est a dete­rioribus honore anteiri! It is odious to a free spirit to be outstripped in Honor by one lesse deserving then himselfe. Are you not satisfied with your present possessions? Beware in seeking for more, you consume not what you have, or [Page 95] that you loose it not by falling under the Plot of some Potent Enemy. Inimicitiae po­tentum graves sunt, saith Seneca, The Enmities of great men are vehement, he maketh no mention of their love. You can not there live without entring into some Fa­ction or other, which is an adventure for a yonger brother, not for a man of your certainty, and Possibilities. But admit you raise your selfe to the degree of Honour, and proporti­on of Fortune you aime [Page 96] at. Thinke you the Maw of Ravenous am­bition will bee filled with that? Hee that is led by her, nothing can stay his adventures. Heaven it selfe could not give her content­ment, from whence she was throwne down. Excellently singular, Seneca, Cum omnia quae excesserunt modum noce­ant, periculosissima foe­licitatis intemperantia. Since all things exceed­ing measure hurt, the in­temperancy of Felicity, must needs bee most dan­gerous. Hannibal ar­gued [Page 97] Marius Attillius of weakenesse, in that he was not able to set a gage to his prosperitie. But make a suppo­sition you have your hearts desire, (it be­ing a thing possible though difficult) and that you have hold of the highest round save one in Fortunes Esca­lade, You are never sure of holding fast, and ever in danger of a shamefull fall. Now imagine you were secured from fal­ling, yet would Pride, and Disdaine, two stir­ring humours, so puffe [Page 98] you up, that you would forget from whence you came, and whither you are going. Seeing al things waiting your will, the thought of what to enjoy first would afflict you, as what first to weare, what first to taste, what Musicke first to heare, what conversation first to make choise of, which Mistris first to dally with, and other delights, which pro­sperity envites to. You would not bee much unlike to those soules Bellarmine maketh men­tion of in his tract of [Page 99] Purgatory, which wan­der up, and downe in a faire, spacious, sweet sented Meadow, and are with a dilation of Beati­tude, & an overfilling joy tormēted. Are you am­bitious of your Princes favour? Do him accep­table service in your coū ­try, and you shall surely obtaine it. But you will answer, I would have frō him a superlative Grace above all other men, & bee made the cabinet of his most secret thoughts. This were, in­deed, the most ready way to procure the envy [Page 100] of your fellow Peeres, and to incurre the suspi­tion of your Prince. For the love of Heaven ba­nish all such thoughts out of your bosome. Let it be your Medita­tion, how to attaine to the perfection of a de­vout life; So shall you become the favorite of a Deity. Being once in Gods favour, you can not (except you will) fall from it, he be­ing yesterday, today, and the same for ever. You know how to please him, hee having revealed his will in his [Page 101] Word. The dispositi­ons of Princes (as it is fit) remaine undiscove­red, and their intenti­ons incommunicable. Of all Kingdomes I esteeme this Iland wherein wee live, most happy, which since shee endured the file, never bad above two or three Princes justly liable to the detested brand of Tyrannie. But if you needes will fol­low the Court, square your selfe by this Rule. What ever you do well, and laudably, ascribe some way to the wis­dome [Page 102] of your Soverai­gne; for they are gods on Earth, and (in Emu­lation of the Heavenlie God) will have us ac­knowledge the best of our actions to have their ground from them, leaving the worser to our owne Patronage. Our im­perfections are ba­stards, which they will force us to father, but what ever is in us legitimate, and good, they themselves owne, as derived from their transcen­dent Vertue. Taci­tus [Page 103] saith of Antony, that he was, Nimius comme­morandis quae meruisset; Vaine in repeating his owne Deeds. Germanicus did not so, who being Lord of a great Victory in Germany, erected in the fortunate place of his so good successe, a Mountaine composed of Armes, in man­ner of a Tropheie, which hee Dedica­ted to Mars, Iove, and Augustus, in the inscription attribu­ting the Conquest to the Care, and Armie of Tibe­rius, [Page 104] not making the least mention of himselfe. Metu in­vidiae, an ratus conscientiam facti satis esse. Whether he did this as fearingenvy, or that hee esteemed the testimony of his owne conscience glorie enough I know not, saith the same Author. On the contrary Silius, having for seven yeeres together governed a mighty Army in Ger­many, vanted that hee alone had so many yeeres maintained, and kept his Army in obe­dience, and order; [Page 105] whereas if Tiberius had himselfe come to his Legions, hee would by seeking to introduce in­novation of Discipline, have destroyed, and disbanded the whole Armie: Destrui Fortu­nam suam Caesar, impa­remque tanto merito rebatur: By this Caesar thought, saith Tacitus, his Fortune to receave an Eclipse, and that his vallue was not deemed answerable to so great a merit. Forthwith therefore he suborned false witnesses against Silius, and welcommed [Page 106] all such as would ac­cuse him, which Silius perceiving layed violēt hands on himself, choo­sing rather to fall under his owne Cruelty, then stand to the Mercy of a Tyrant. Out of these ex­amples you may gather this instruction. That it is as safe to transferre your own deserts upon your Prince, as it is ha­zardous to detract from him, or vain-gloriously to assume the praise of things well done to your selfe.

This I warne you, in case your Destinie, not [Page 107] your Reason hurries you to the Court. But (according to my for­mer humble solicitatiō) I would wish you to settle your selfe to a coū ­try life. Being there looke aswell to the hus­banding of your Time, as your Living. Recre­ate, but weary not your­selfe with Games, and Sports, making of Pastime a Labour. Above all beware Hunting bewitch you not. The Medes, the Persians, the Macedonians, the Parthians, and other [Page 108] Barbarous Nations were besotted with it, but wee never read the renowned Romans (of all Civill vertues the true patternes) ever had it in esteeme. Salust debaseth it so farre as to number it amongst the servile occupations, and Tiberius noted with infamy the commander of a Legion, for that he had sent forth a few Souldiers to the chase. Pompey I can not denie when he was in Affrica, followed this sport for some few daies, and therfore Plutarch plea­santly [Page 109] saith, that the very beasts of Affrica, felt the felicity, and power of the Romans. But I wil make it good, that neither any of the Nobility before that people became subject to one head, nor (after the losse of the Roman Liberty) any of the Emperours delighted in it. Onely we finde that the wisest of them, Augustus, used now and then to fish with an Angle, a sport which no way hindereth the operations of mans Nobler part. And (like [Page 110] a Foole quickly to shoote my owne bolt) I doe not conceive how Wisedome can descend so low as to prate all day to a Dog. Yet wee will allowe you this pleasure, if you will followe it as Pliny the second did, who in one of his E­pistles affirmes that he never went to the Chase, Sine pugillari­bus, without his Table-Bookes. But my scope is not utterly to avert your minde from Hunting, I onely perswading a [Page 111] moderation, not a relinquishment. Your double Study of Men, and Bookes will take up some time.

Your Application, and Discourse.

THe Former is most requisite, and [Page 112] yet most difficult, as being not every mans study. Spare no tra­vaile to search through­ly the Dispositions of those to whom your businesse Commands your often repaire; else you will bee a yeere in effecting that which two daies this way be­stowed might have fi­nish'd. What will not the Application of a man, and the participa­tion of his purse bring to passe? The most Politick, and reserved of all your Nightcaps, hath commonly some [Page 113] one humour remarque­able above the rest, by which you may take him at your pleasure. One is deaffe to all mo­tions that his wife makes not. Another maketh a Factor of his Secretary, a third of his Dore-keeper, &c. I have knowne a great, and competently wise­man, who would much respect any man that was good to his Foole. The most curious pates of us all have imperfe­ctions which lay us o­pen to bee practiz'd on by farre weaker wits. [Page 114] Insinuate your selfe with a winning carriage into the good affecti­ons of all men. Humil­lity in your gesture, and speach will gaine you friends, which confirme yours with such curtesies as occa­sion permitteth you to performe. In the choise of your friends bee not onely curious but pain­full; for deserving Spirits are not obvi­ous, but retired, and therefore require your diligent search, of which they are most worthy. There are [Page 115] some Conversations good for nothing but Recreation, others are decent, as to visit our acquaintance, others profitable, as that of Merchants; others tru­ly happy and delight­full, as to frequent the company of Schollers, and vertuous men. This is the Vine plan­ted amongst the O­lives. Abhorre Pride, other wise all men will loathe you. Out upon those Imperia Manlia­na, odious alike to God and M [...]n. That of Zeno, to his proud [Page 116] Disciple, is most true, and appositive. Not, saith he, if you bee great, therefore you shall bee good, but if you bee good, great. If your neglect, or indiscretion procure you an Enemy, and that he bee in himselfe wor­thy, seeke by all hono­rable meanes to recōcile him: but (if he be with­out Lure) having one foe, foresee diligently that you have not two.

Your Discourse.

YOur Discourse, saith one, should rather delight to judge it selfe, then shew it selfe. In matters of Di­spute, apparel your Ar­guments in modesty; for so, finding your selfe in an errour, you may make an hono­rable retreate. Bold, and peremptory positi­ons, being true, offend the opposer, and being false, shame the pro­punder. Wrangle not; Sic prob [...] is a trouble­some, [Page 119] importunate fellowe, spued out of all societies that under­stand the World. When you cite an Au­thor, be not too precise in quoting the Chap­ter, or Page, neither importunatly urge an­other to it; for in so doing, you shall robbe others of their owne, it being Proprium quarto modo, to the Canvasers in Schooles, who will take it very hainously that you should usurpe their Profession. There was not long since a di­sputation betweene a [Page 118] meare Scholler, and a knowing Gentleman, who strengthened his Argument with the au­thority of Plato ▪ The Scholler demanded in what Booke of Plato hee had read it, and in what page; to which the other re­plyed, that hee could not well call to mind either the one, or the other, alledging the length of time for an excuse. Where­upon the Scholler with a gaping laugh, and a great Oath, con­cluded, it was not [Page 120] at al in the Philosopher, daring the other to produce Plato, and to shew him the passage. To this the Gentleman thus answered; Verilie I have left both that, and all my other Bookes at home for want of such an Asse as you to carry them after me. In jesting, and witty talke beare a part but remember that the Lattines cal them Sales quasi Condimenta, im­plying that wee should use them as Salt, and Spices to season our dis­course, not to make them the subject of it. [Page 121] The Moralists affirme wee may bee Facetosi, non acetosi, witty, but not biting, or injurious to the Company. However, if you mixe not your mirth with theirs, yet marre not the Harmo­ny with your severe censuring of it in word, or looke. Bethincke your selfe that the lat­ter dayes are come up­on us, which, should they not bee shortned, would damne all flesh. In the Prophets time, the most righteous sin­ned seven times a day; and it is well if many of [Page 122] us can escape with fourteene. Man, as saith Scaliger, was crea­ted Animal sociale, A sociable creature, and therfore ought to con­forme himselfe to the Perfections of his Neighbour, and yeeld to his infirmities. Fooles, and Flat-witted fellowes you have rea­son to beare with, be­cause their Companie is profitable, and will save you the entertain­ment of a Iester. Bee not too Austere, there being a Christian liber­ty which you may safe­ly [Page 123] share in. Marry as all rules suffer an ex­ception, so doth this. If any mans speach shall at the remotest distance point at Blasphemy, let your face presently put on a dislike, and if a second time hee burnes your eares with that unholy fire, avoide his Company. Now a dayes our wits thinke themselves streight­ned, and cooped up, if their Talke bee barred Blasphemy, and Baw­dery. A Gentleman of this Land (in all other things not onely deser­serving [Page 124] applause, but admiration) escaped not altogether this Pe­stilent contagion. Being earnestly rebuked by an intimate friend for his slighting, and vaine exposition of the Scrip­tures, hee acknowled­ged the fault, promi­sing to leave it by de­grees, and therefore vow'd hee would henceforth onely make bold with the Apocry­pha, and the singing Psalmes. Laertius sayes that Pythagoras descen­ded to Hell, and saw there the soule of Ho­mer [Page 125] hanging on a tree, Vipers, and Snakes twinning about it, as a due chastizement for his blasphemy a­gainst the Gods. How carefull therefore should wee Christians bee, least wee trespasse this way, who have to doe with a Serpent that stings the Consci­ence, and spits a fire e­verlasting? Next to this crime in detestation is obscene language, so hot, and fowle, that I wonder it furres or fires not the mouthes that utter it. And the [Page 126] Audience trebles the offence, when it is spo­ken before younglings; for of all Creatures, Man is most prone to imitation, and amongst all mans Ages, Child­hood. Never so good a witt unhallowed, hath a double sting; it offends God, and scan­dalizeth Man. At your meate never so much as name Death, Cof­fins, or other such mortifying stuffe; for you may chance to have such mortall Guests, that the feare you strike into their soules may [Page 127] quite take away their stomakes. In truth sad Stories are neither for the bed, nor the bord. Of all things bee wary that publikely you busy not your selfe with My­steries of State, for though Guicciardine ju­stly maintaineth that the actions of Princes are subject to the opini­ons of men, their state, and majesty not impai­red; yet it is a dange­rous Theame for such men to handle, whose Fortunes are examined more then their faultes.

Your Studies.

TOuching your Studies; allot them three or foure houres in a daie; and not more, and content your selfe to read mul­tum, non multa. A few excelling Authors well digested, are able to compose an able judge­ment, and a vertuous mind. Reguard not the number of Bookes but their estimation. Give your selfe chiefly to [Page 129] History, in which you shall finde Morality here, and there inserted and interlaced like a curious worke of Enna­mell in Gold. In the commendations of this Study, I will onely cite the words of incompa­rable Livy, to whom Rome owes more for her Fame, then to Ae­neas, or Romulus for her Originall. For this is that so good, and profi­table in History, saith he, when a man may see, and behold as in a Con­spicuous Monument, and light some memoriall, the [Page 130] lively examples of all sorts set up in open view for his instruction, whereout he may choose for himselfe, and his Country what to follow, as also learne how to eschewe a fowle enter­prise, and avoid a shame­full end. Begin with the Story of your owne Country before you goe to forreine, that in case you travaile, you may make a happy ex­change of Historicall observations. But dwell not there, that being too confined a know­ledge. The Romane will deservedly claime [Page 131] your next view, where­in you shall meete with deedes father'd upon men, which the Gods they worship'd, might without disparage­ment have owned. The order you must observe in reading it I will as briefly as I can set downe.

The Order to bee ob­served in reading the Roman Story.

TItus Livius, the greatest of all Ro­man Historians, begins at the foundation of Rome, and conti­nues it to Augustus Cae­sar; but halfe Livy is lost, and therefore where he is wanting, o­thers may bee read. Where he is full hee is enough; unlesse you would see Dyonisius Halycarnassaeus, in the [Page 133] first times of Rome to compare him with Livy. His Historie ends about the dissensi­on betweene the Senat, and the People in Appius Claudius his time. There are also the five Bookes of Polybius from the first Punick warre to the descent of Hannibal in­to Italy. But that also is in Livy, and a great part of it transcribed out of the excellent Polybius. But there where Livy is wanting (as namly in those times which are most neces­sary to knowe) as the [Page 134] actions of Silla, Lucullus & Pompey in the Mithri­daticke war, thogether with the Civill warre of Marius, and Sylla, read Appianus who is in Greeke, and Latine in a thin folio. Hee excep­ted, I could never reade any History that did fully relate the bloo­dy passages of Sylla; his Dictatorshippe, his Resignation; his Death and Funerall. Plutarch I confesse lightly tou­cheth them in the life of Sylla. This brings you to the time of Ca­tilines Conspiracie, for [Page 135] which you need no o­ther then Salust. After that Caesars Commenta­ries will clearely shew you the Growth of Cae­sar, in the North, and the whole dissention betweene him, and Pompey the great. Then Dion Cassius doth at large relate the rest of Caesars Honours, his Death, and what fol­lowed in that trouble­some time of the Tri­umviri. This is the most compleat, and largest Historie of those times. Then (besides Tacitus, and [Page 136] Suetonius) you may reade Xiphilinus a little booke, an abreviation of Dion of Nice, which is lost. He speakes of two and twenty Emperours as low as to the reigne of Alexander Severus, under whom hee lived. Then Herodian, a short, but pithy Historian goes to the time of Gordianus Caesar, speak­ing of twelve Empe­rours, and hee begins at the death of Marcus Aurelius. Then Ammia­nus Marcellinus speaketh at large of five Empe­rours, of which Iulian [Page 137] the Apostate is one, though his Historie doth not immediatlie followe. So that for the Series of the Storie, I advise you (omitting Dionisius Halicarnassaeus, Polybi­us, Suetonius, Plu­tarch, and Tacitus) to reade Livy, Appianus, Salust, Caesars Commen­taries, Dion Cassius, Xiphilinus, Herodian, and Ammianus Mar­cellinus. To these you may adde the perusall of the two famous mo­derne Histories Guicci­ardine, and Commines, equall even to the [Page 138] best of the Ancients. The deeds of Scan­derbeg, of the Turkes, and Barbarians I hold fitter to be sung then Storied. Heere I would also give you my judgement of the Greeke Storie, but that it would be fruit­lesse for mee to insist longer upon this sub­ject, by reason that I shall shortly write you a peculiar. Tract of Historie, and De­dicate that to your Lordships Name, as I have already my selfe to your service. [Page 139] I am once more re­turned to my first Mistresse, my Booke, to whom my future Constancy shall make satisfaction for my passed disloyalty. The Night, which I for­merly consumed in Riot, I now divide betwixt Sleepe, and Cogitation; nor doe I shut my Bookes out of Bed, my most in­ward Friends. I make fast my Dore upon the Vulgar, and en­compass'd with so many Learned, and Blessed Soules, it [Page 140] seemes to mee I sit in the lappe of E­ternity. I exclude Lust, Ambition, and others like, of whom Sloath is the Parent, and unex­perience the Nurse. Images and Grandies I behold in their pro­per places, a farre off, and pitty those Great ones that know not this great Happi­nesse.

It now onely resteth that in all submission and reverence I begge your Lordships Par­don for with-holding [Page 141] you from better im­ploying your time with these feeble, but affe­ctionate Lines, to the writing whereof, two Motives have wonne mee. The first is my Zeale to your Good, I having a strong Desire that you should bee of your truly Great House (though not in Fortune, or Fame) in Vertue the greatest, and in the Celestiall Kingdome, have a Seate above them. And give me leave to tell you, Dearest Sir, that this is [Page 142] no hard thing for you to Compasse, it being onely the adding of Endeavour to your Disposition, which of it selfe leadeth to good­nesse. In this you have no small advantage of other great ones, it be­ing (if the Authoritie of Seneca will serve) a maine requisite of No­bility. Quis nobilis? a Natura ad virtutem bene compositus: Who is No­ble? Hee whose Nature invites him to Vertue. My second, & lesse prin­cipall Motive is a feare, not of Death, but that [Page 143] paradventure I might unfortunatly die, with­out leaving you a Te­stimony of my Grati­tude for all those Gra­ces, and Favours which it hath beene your Lordships good plea­sure to deigne me your unworthy servant. My owne indisposition of body, and the dayly sight of these Turve fires, minister occasi­on to mee of Con­templating the howre­ly consuming of the Earth, whereof I am made. Quaelibet res dum in sua resolvitur [Page 144] Principia, tunc apparet qualis revera sit, & quidnam sub illa specie latebat: Every thing being resolved into his first Principles, doth then appeare what, indeed, it is, and discovereth what lurked under that shape. It is no otherwise: I everie day burne as good earth as mine owne, and, if heere I die, it is likely that this, or the next Generation will make fires of mee. But Civillity calles upon mee to make an end. I therefore once more humbly implore [Page 145] your Lordships for­givenesse for detaining you from your more serious affaires, with this long Discourse, which hath passed the bounds I first set it downe. If I have in­serted any thing plea­sing, or good, ima­gine I have done like an ugly Painter, who hath by chance made a Beautifull Peece. What ere it bee, you are the Master of it, to whom it standes, [Page 146] or falles, as doth