WHen I consider in what estate Man was crea­ted, I cannot but thinke of his folly; who, through a false hope of knowing good and euill, lost the e­nough of good hee had, and found too much euil. This makes mee call to [Page 2] minde the vaine ambi­tion of those, who seeke to prie into that vnreuealed (and there­fore inscrutable) know­ledge of the Deity: vp­pon whom GOD loo­king down, saies in a piti­full derision (as hee did to Adam) Beholde, the men are become as one of vs. This meditati­on stretcheth-out it selfe, and biddes mee also con­sider the arrogancie of those, who scorne to erre, or to bee repre­hended for their errours, not-withstanding that they see Man to haue er­red [Page 3] in the state of Inno­cencie. I will therefore seeke to knowe my selfe (the next and surest way to knowe GOD) and by an humble Confes­sion, begge Remission of my faults. I say, I will confesse them vnto God; not boast of them to Man.

When I thinke who made me, and wherfore hee made me, I hold my selfe a glorious creature: when I consider of what hee made mee, I then thinke my selfe corrupti­ble and miserable. I will [Page 4] therefore temper the for­mer with the later: so shal I neuer grow too proud, nor too abiect.

When I behold Beau­ty, it puts me in minde of my Glorification: but withall, I find, that it hin­dereth much my Morti­fication. I will therefore, as neere as I can, neuer fix mine eye vpon Beau­ty; least by being neuer mortified, I neuer be glo­rified.

When a man is borne, hee beginnes to die: but when the iust man dies, [Page 5] hee then but beginnes to liue. I will therefore in my beginning thinke of my end; that in my end, I may reioyce in my better and neuer-ending begin­ning.

Iob made a couenant with his eyes, least at any time they should looke vpon a Mayde: but, since I cannot make a coue­nant with mine eyes, least at any time they look vp­pon a Maide, I will trie if I can make a couenant with my heart, least at a­ny time it desire a Maide.

GOD made Hea­uen for the good, Hell for the badde: but, he made earth for both. This shewes vs, that while wee liue heere, wee must of necessity conuerse with both. I will therefore lay mine eares open to all; but, my heart to few.

Our Master hath left vs two Sacraments. One of which tell's vs that wee are Christians: [Page 7] the other biddes vs liue like Christians. This later is that Tree of Life; the passage where­to is guarded by no Cherubin, nor by any brandished Sword: but whosoeuer will, may come thither; and, ea­ting worthily, may liue for euer. VVhen there­fore I eate of this Tree, I will remember out of whose bloud it sprang. The memory whereof will suggest vnto mee, that if I eate not this fruit worthily, I am vn­worthy to be a branch of the Tree: that is, if I eate [Page 8] not his body worthily, I am then vnworthy to be a member of that body whereof he is the head.

The first murtherer of all mankinde, was also the first Lyer; two hor­rible vices, and alike bloudy. For, a man had better bee murthered, then belyed; haue his person slaine, then his fame. I will therefore flie from a Lyer, as from an Aspe: the poyson of whose tongue is mor­tall.

Besides our internall, [Page 9] originall, and actuall sinnes, wee haue exter­nall & accidentall crimes layed vpon vs by our fa­milies; but, in my con­ceit, very vniustly: for, wee haue enough to an­swere for the first man; and are no way liable to the debts of his succes­sors. VVhy should man lay more vpon man, than GOD himselfe doth? As with him the vertues of my House cannot saue me, no more can the vices of it damne mee. The Law of God shall be with me, aboue the Law of Armes, or the Law [Page 10] of Nations.

Those that serue God only vpon Sundayes, are like seruants extraordina­rie; who come to waite vpon their great Lords, onely vpon great dayes: But I will make euery day my Sabbath; and will follow my Lord in ordinary, making Chari­tie my Cognizance.

VVhile the Papists and wee contend which of vs erre most in mat­ters of faith, wee striue who shall erre most in [Page 11] matters of life: so that wee studie at once, who shall beleeue best, and who shall liue worst; not who shall bee most vertuous, but who most enuious. My chiefest care therefore shall bee, to liue well: so shall I euer bee sure to fare better, than hee who beleeues well, and liues ill.

Two sortes of men I loathe, and detest; a Foole, and a Carper. Yet, of the two, I would make choyce to holde discourse with the [Page 12] Carper: for, I had rather be misunderstood in all, then not to bee vnder­stood at all. I will there­fore onely beware of the one: but I will scorne the other.

Laughing is onely pro­per to man, amongst all liuing creatures: where­as indeede he ought euer to be weeping, in that he euer sinnes; & the beasts euer laughing, to see man so much abuse his so much reason. O! if a man knew before hee came into the world, what hee should endure [Page 13] in the world, hee would feare his first day, more than his last. I will ther­fore weepe at mine owne misery, and neuer laugh but at mine owne folly: and since my Master was Vir dolorum, a man of griefes, it shall not be said that I am Vir volupta­tum, a man of mirth.

Valour hath many ser­vants going vnder her name: but few of them are her true fauorites. Some snatch courage from her; and, wanting wisedome to rule it, are disclaimed by her. O­thers [Page 14] are Giants in their wordes, and Dwarfes in their deedes. She hates him, who speakes more than he dares doe; and makes him her Cham­pion, who dares do more than he dare speake. I, I: hee is the man with her, who wounds his enemy with his sword; not with his word. Yet, Christiani­ty vnhorses euen Valour her selfe; and, deposing her, makes new lawes, and proclaimes him the brauest combatant, who can conquer himselfe: that is, who can ascend so high aboue Nature, [Page 15] as to descend belowe himselfe, and to offer seruice where hee owes reuenge. I will inuoke GOD to endue mee with this supernaturall gift; and, withall, to deli­uer mee from a valiant drunkard, and a valiant foole.

VVhen my memory lookes back, as far as she can see, me thinks it is but yesterday: & yet I know, by course of Nature, my life cannot bee trebbl'd. Now, I haue indured so much misery in my one Yesterday, that I am af­fraide [Page 16] to thinke of the two To-morrowes.

It is a woonder, to see the childish whining we now-adayes vse at the fu­neralls of our friends. If we could houl them back againe, our lamentations were to some purpose: but as they are, they are vaine, and in vain. If ther­fore my friend be good, I will be glad that he is rid of the world: if hee bee bad, I will not bee sorry that the world is rid of him: but, that so wofull a world is like to receiue him. If I haue a friend, [Page 17] whose soule ioyn'd with mine, makes but one minde; and that at his death, I see, my teares must burst out, or my heart within; I may then perhaps yeeld to the infir­mity of the flesh: yet not so much, that he hath left the world, as that he hath left mee in it.

He is the most misera­ble of men, who fashions his body and minde ac­cording to the opinion of the vulgar; and he the happiest, who conforms his life to the lawes of a true iudgement. This [Page 18] mā knows, that we must heare with many, but de­cree with few, & ioyning forces with two or three braue retired spirits, hee bandies with a legion of the Vulgar. Hee lookes downe with pitie on the poore Plebeians; & (like Xerxes) bewailes their hard hap, in that none of their names shal liue after a few yeares. Knowing that the eternall sub­stance of his soule was breath'd into him, by the Eternall, he cares for no­thing which is not able to hold-out with Eternity. I will therefore despise [Page 19] things momentary: and since I haue ful assurance, that I shall liue in the o­ther world, my deedes shal do their best to make me liue in this.

Now-a-dayes the clo­thes are spoken to, and not the men: and few haue regard to the riches of the breast; but, of the backe. He, who in his fa­shions differs, and dege­nerates most from his ancestours, is held the most generous Gentle­mā. The world is grown so sensuall, that the parts of the body are preferr'd [Page 20] before those of the mind; so that to say, He is a man of good parts, is as much to say, as He is a man of good members. Christ sayes that the body is more worth then the rai­ment: but some of our Gallants make them clothes more worth then their bodies. With me it shall not be a good argu­ment, to say, I will weare this, because it becomes me; but, I will weare this, because it becomes a man: and he that speakes to my clothes, and not to me, shall bee answered by my clothes, and not by me.

Some are neuer well, but when they are vn­packing their bosomes with wordes, and whis­pering their thoughts in the eares of their reputed friends: & at length, tho­rough the perfidiousnes of som fals brother, they are brought either to die shamefull deaths, or to liue the like liues. If ther­fore I find my tongue to be so laxatiue, as that it cannot holde, but must needes bewray me, I will locke my secrets deepe in my hart: & if my tongue vnlocke my heart, I will [Page 22] bite it, and beate my heart for not tying my tongue. I will not doe GOD so great a disho­nour, as to demy-deifie Man, in making him priuy to my heart and thoughts.

Nothing giues vs de­light in this world, but Beauty. We take pleasure in beholding heauē when it is faire, and cleere: but when it is ouer-cast, our minds are clouded, and our bodies ill disposed. Wee loue Vesta better, when her face is smooth, and her colours fresh, [Page 23] than when her beauty is blasted, and her visage wrinkled. For, in Sum­mer euery man lies, with, & vpon his first mother, nuzzles himselfe in her lap, and playes with her dainties; whereas in the Winter euery mā keeps his house: and yet if that be not neate and sweete, we loath that too. One and the samething, being young, delights; beeing old, displeases. I wil ther­fore ioy in nothing, more thā in Beauty; nor admire any thing, more than her: yet since she is such an Inchantresse, my bodi­ly [Page 24] eye shall neuer beholde her, but withall my spiri­tuall eye shal be fixt vpon hir Maker; who made her to feede the sense, not to bewitch the soule: who left her vs, to make vs conceiue how much more excellent is that in­conceiueable fairness of the celestiall Canaan. In a word; shee is but a cor­ruptible type of an incor­ruptible treasure. And as Christ shal consume An­tichrist with the bright­nes of his glory: so shall the blasing beauty of the other world, blast the fa­ding fairness of this.

More then many there are, to whom Superstiti­on dictates, that it is plea­sing to GOD to weare squalid, and vncleane clo­thes; and that the well­fare of the soule consists in the foule keeping of the bodie. Others there are, whom Hypocrisie leades the same way. They both erre: the for­mer, by not knowing the Scriptures; the later, by transgressing against thē: for, Christ commands vs not to looke soure, as the Hypocrites, who disfi­gure their faces, that they [Page 26] may seeme vnto men to fast. I will therefore wash my handes, and face, and anoint my head; that my head my bee anoynted with the oyle of gladnes. And since I cannot en­dure to see the lodging of my body durty, I will much more haue a care, to keepe the chamber of my soule cleane. When my soule is sadde, my countenance shal be mer­rie: neither wil I so much care to cast vp mine eyes to heauen, as to lift vp my heart to God; not so much respecting the throne, as the inthron'd.

Many there are, who neuer serue God, but whē hee serues their turne. Hence it comes to passe, that the Sea-man mut­ters against him, when he hath not a good winde; & the Plough-mā, when he hath badde weather. All this proceedes from nothing, but the impru­dency of man; which ac­cuseth the Prouidence of God, of Improuidency. Before there was any raine at al, what did God then? Did hee not send a mist vp from the earth, which watered all the [Page 28] earth? Hee will not haue his power tied to any or­dinary meane; but, will shew vs what hee is, by what he can doe. When therefore mine owne meanes faile me, I will re­lie vpon God: who is as able to giue mee some­thing, as to make me of nothing; to keepe me to the last, as to make me at the first.

He that striues to please the intoxicated multi­tude, labours as much in vaine, as he that sought to put the winds in a bagge. And the reason is, because [Page 29] it is impossible to please the godly and vngodly, the judicial and the vnju­diciall, the sensible & the senselesse, both at once. Neyther Christ, nor his fore-runner could please them. For, Iohn came neyther eating nor drin­king; and they said, He had a diuell. The Sonne of Man came eating and drinking; and they said, Behold a glutton, and a drinker of wine, a friend to Publicans and sinners. I will therefore take my Sauiours counsel, & seeke to iustifie my iudgement to the children of VVise­dome, [Page 30] of whom she is iu­stified; and not to fooles, by whom shee is daily crucified.

As many haue hungry stomackes; but, few dis­gesting: so many haue apprehending wits; but, few iudging. Hence it comes to passe, that some are wise in words, & fools in actions. For my part, I had rather it should be said, that I am one of the iudgements of the town, then that I am one of the wits of the towne.

Diuers men propound [Page 31] vnto themselues diuers ends. One makes honor his end; another, riches: a third hunts after both: a fourth seeks to purchase to himselfe the name and fame of a Schollar; a fift, of a Souldier, &c. As for me, I wil make the honor of God mine end. So shall I be sure that mine end shall not be dishonoura­ble.

I haue often wonder'd with my selfe, to thinke that Schollars are the most poore of all others; notwithstanding that they haue the best wits of all [Page 32] others. And my won­der neuer left mee, till I considered, that they car'd not for the things of this world, which the Mothe & Canker could corrupt; but, laid vp their treasures in the other world: whereas they, who knew nothing, but the things of this world, carkt and car'd most for the world. Some say, that because Salomon vs'd the riches hee had so ill, therfore God would ne­uer since blesse Schollars with them: But, that is false: for, wee see Kings Philosophers, and Di­uines. [Page 33] I wil beseech God, to giue mee an estate e­qually distant from a­bundance, and penury. So shall I neuer rise so high as presumption, nor fall so low as despaire: yet of the two, I had ra­ther haue nothing than know nothing; that my body should want, than my soule.

The Hermits are re­prehended, for seque­string themselues from the world: and it is the opinion of many reue­rend Diuines, that hee is most valiant, who grap­ples [Page 34] with the enemy; that is, who talkes face to face with the wicked. Yet too much relying vpon this Maxime, hath brought many into the iawes of danger; but, hath fetcht few out. To be a good man in the middest of Sodome, to bee abstemi­ous in Germany, to bee chaste in Italy, all these are hard and rare things; we seeing many returne absolutely vitious from thence, that almost went absolutely vertuous thi­ther. True it is, that Christ kept company with Publicans: but, as [Page 35] true it is, that hee was without the leauell of temptation. We see one man change nature with another, and put on the disposition of him, with whom hee conuerses. I will therefore not onely shun euil, but the meanes to come to it; & to auoid hurt, I will keepe my selfe out of shot: neyther will I presume, being but a man, to follow my Ma­ster in that which he did as God.

Man consists of two parts; the body and the minde: that is, saith La­ctantius, [Page 36] of heauen and earth. I will therfore not grudge to let my earth go to earth; that my hea­uen may go to heauen.

The greatest and most common care men haue, is, to passe away the time. They desire most to passe away that, which is most pretious. O! if they knew what treasure Time offers to their soules, they would looke with a iealous eye vpon the houre-glasse, and sigh at the dropping of euery sand. They abuse & lose Time, the mother of Ex­perience; [Page 37] and so, lose Ex­perience, the Mother of Wisedome. It is a hard case, when a dying man shall think with himselfe, that he hath left nothing behind him, wherby po­sterity may knowe, hee did once liue. If that this man (saith Seneca) inha­bit this world a thousand yeeres, yet can wee not truly say, Hic vir diu vi­xit, This man liu'd long; but, Hic vir diu fuit, This man was long. For my part, I had rather the cō ­pany would passe away, then the time; except it be such company, as may [Page 38] helpe mee to redeeme the time. And while I liue heere, I will studie so to vse Time, as that I may come to liue there, where is no time.

In these times, when mē wil lay an imputation vpō one, they will say, He is Morally honest. Certain it is, that hee, who is at no time morally honest, can neuer be religiouslie good. God shewes that hee is our Father by his works, in, and for vs: & we should shewe, that we are his children by our works, to his, & for him. [Page 39] It is not enough, to say with the thiefe, Lord, re­member mee, when thou cōmest into thy kingdome, vnlesse wee remēber him here. To belieue Christ, is not enough; neither is it enough to beleeue in him: for, wee ought as well belieue in his com­maundements, that wee must doe them; as in his promises, that wee shall haue them. Wee reade, that wee should declare our faith by our workes; that is, our invisible belief by our visible life: but, we no where read, that wee should shewe our workes [Page 40] by our faith. True it is, that the Scripture bids vs, not to giue almes so­nante tuba, vvith our tongues talking of that wee giue; but, with our harts thinking for whom we giue. No, no: he that glories in his works, shall neuer bee glorified for thē. The Publican could not haue done a work so acceptable in the sight of Christ, as was the disclai­ming his owne workes. For, as we haue nothing, but from God: so God will haue vs confesse, that we can do nothing with­out him. I wil haue mer­cie [Page 41] on my neighbor, that God may haue mercy on mee; and saue him from momentarie misery, that I may be saued frō eter­nall. Yet, in so doing, will I knowe what I doe; & wil tell, that I doe it for the discharge of my du­ty, and to Gods glory; who hath promised to make mee a great one in heauen, if I relieue but one of his little ones on earth.

Wee reade, that Al­phonsus, and Fridericus, Kings of Spaine and Si­cily, recouered their long [Page 42] lost health (being giuen­ouer by the Physicians) by reading historie: Al­phonsus by reading T. Li­uius; and Fridericus by reading Q. Curtius. Two Christian Kings were healed by profane histo­rie. O! if vaine, and vn­certaine Annales haue such a miraculous opera­tion: what haue those sa­cred pages, penned by the hands of Prophets, and Apostles; & wherin the Spirit of GOD hath expressed the maiestie of God? All you that are sick, come you hither; & read heere, where Com­fort [Page 43] her selfe offers to cure you. Come hither Lambes, and you may wade: come hither Ele­phants, & you may swim. Come hither Children, and feed on milke: come hither you tooth'd vn­derstandings, & you shal feed on hard meat. Lord let mine eyes lose their light, in beholding this light: and let mee reade that till I die, which can make mee liue, neuer to die.

Nothing torments a man more then ambiti­on. She is the only enemy [Page 44] to Content, and Rebel a­gainst Reason. Shee is borne with her eyes cast vp; that is, comparing her selfe with those, that are aboue her. If shee cast her eyes downe, it is but in scorne of those that are belovve her. If shee should bee pearcht vpon the verie toppe of heauen, yet shee vvould desire to clime higher. That I may not bee sub­iect to this aspyring di­uell, I will be contrary to her; and neuer compare my selfe, but with my In­feriours. And if I see no man more contemptible [Page 45] than my selfe, I vvill yet retaine the maiestie of a Man; and thinke that I am placed Lord, and King, ouer the Beasts.

There is nothing dura­ble in this vvorld, but grief. As for the word re­ioyce, it requires, in most toongs, an Ablatiue Case; and is taken away before it be throughly enioyed. Griefe is a firme and ne­uer-flitting companiō of Man: and it neuer for­sakes him; though all his friends do. The first note man sings, is how­ling; and his last, groning. [Page 46] I will therefore moralize vpon this, and think that the all-griefe wee haue in this world, is but a figure of that all-ioy we shall in­ioy in the next world; & as a sowre Preparatiue, to make vs relish that sweet food the better.

Friends are threefold; profitable, delightful, ver­tuous. The two former are imbraced in this world; the later ca [...]sierd. The name of an honest man is growne odious: and the reputation to be such a one, is a clogge to a mans rising. And there­fore [Page 47] as one saies, That he had rather be rich, than be accoūted so: so a man had better be honest, thā be reputed so. In these gayish times, the out­ward appearance is more looked into, th [...]n the in­ward essence [...] that of Seneca is [...] Annu­lis magi [...] quam animis creditur. For my part, I will not make choice of a friend, that hath not all those three accidents vni­ted in him; to wit, pro­fit, pleasure, and vertue. But of what profession shall this my friend bee? A knowing, doing scho­lar. [Page 48] Hee is the true profi­table friend, the onely de­lightfull, the most trulie vertuous. That he is pro­fitable, appeares in this, that in exchanging vvith him a demand for an an­swere, a man shall gaine a secret, worth a Signiory. That he is delightfull, no man will deny, that hath his vnderstanding but once tickled with his di­scourse. That hee is the truliest vertuous, is easily prooued; in that other men are in loue with ver­tue onely by relation: wheras the Scholar, with his vnderstanding part, [Page 49] pries into her fairest partes, and loues her for her selfe onely, without any other base respect. A Merchant loueth a Merchant; as hoping to gaine by him. A Souldi­er loueth a Souldier; as expecting to be rescued by him: but, a Schollar loueth a Schollar; as de­siring to be better instru­cted by him. I, I: this is loue indeed; and this is a friend indeed: & he that loues not such a friend, hates himselfe.

It is a thing worthy obseruation, how the [Page 50] vulgar feedes vpon false opinions. For example; if a man seduce a woman to commit what should be omitted, he is little or nothing defam'd therby, but shee: the seducer is not so much blam'd, as the seduced. If a child consent with a man to cōmit a villany, I would faine know, whether the child, or the man deserue the sharper censure. If the stronger vessell ouerturn the weaker, which of thē causeth the fall? Some obiect, that a woman should haue more mode­stie than a man; & there­fore [Page 51] is held more culpa­ble in the breach there­of. That a woman should be more shamefac't than a man, I grant; that more shame-minded, I denie. A man should not haue a [...]earefull blush: but, hee should euer retaine an honest shame. And yet, whosoeuer should main­taine (against all Ethicks) that modestie is cōmon (though not alike com­mon) to euery age, and sex, he should on his side haue probabilitie: out of which, absurditie neuer yet issued. I haue seene a fellow blush, whose face [Page 52] Age had pleighted, and whose eyes could neither send out light, nor re­ceiue it in. And indeed, it is a thing common to e­uery man, to blush for error in manners, though not in life. Some will an­swere, There are men, whom nothing can make blush. To whom I re­ply, that I doubt not, but there are both men and women, whom Impu­dencie her selfe hath trai­ned vp; and, sitting on their faces, beats-backe the blushing bloud. A­mongst all the vulgar er­rors, that of extenuating [Page 53] mans offence is the gros­sest: and I would I could with reason murther this opinion. Howsoeuer; if I cannot beat the vulgar from it, yet I will be sure the vulgar shal neuer beat it into mee.

It is an Aphorisme in Physick, that we consist of those things by which wee are nourisht: So also falls it out with the soule. For, if she feed vpō gross [...]nd vncleane conversati­on, shee proues impure: if the conversation bee choice and good, shee growes faire and louelie. [Page 54] Howsoeuer my bodie fare, I will be careful that my soule sucke her sus­tenance out of vvhat is sweet and good: if it bee otherwise, shee shall not once chew it; much lesse digest it.

As at som times, meats; so at som times, discour­ses are out of season. To discourse in matters of policie, or of controuer­sie, in the presence of wo­men, is altogether as much out of season, as Oisters in Iuly. Let me therefore consider how, vvhen, and to whom I [Page 55] speak: and if I can speak to no purpose, I will (if I can) hold my tongue to some purpose.

There is no such laugh­ing-stock in the world, as the worldling: Hee saith in his heart, There is no God; and liues therafter: & on the other side, God saith, hee is not his child; and therefore giues him ouer to his lusts, and per­mits him so to liue. Hee thinkes the ioy to come vncertaine; and therfore prefers a present certaine sorrow before it; beeing afraid to let his body put [Page 57] off his infirmities. Lord take me thither, where I shall not conceiue the griefe I doe heere: by ta­king mee from hence; where I cannot conceiue the ioy, I shal haue there.

I cannot but laugh at the vaine wishes of men. One vvishes that hee might neuer want mony; another, that he might e­uer enioy health; a third, that hee might neuer die. Not one of my desires shall fight against necessi­tie: but, I wil rather wish for that which must bee, than wish, that that [Page 57] may not bee, which must bee.

All opinions are not to be told; but onely such, as either learned men, or else the Church of God haue held before vs. To leaue antiquitie, & cleaue to our own opinions, ar­gues a selfe-opinion, and no wisedom. Some there are, who care not hovv raw their opinions be, so they be rare. I for my part, had rather wander with cōpany, than alone; make another mans iudgment my ground, than ground my selfe vpon [Page 58] mine owne iudgement: for I had rather that my Author should be laugh­ed at, than my selfe.

Amongst the diuerse complaints of men, there is none so ordinarie, as that of Age: but, especi­ally womē are vext with this old vnwelcom guest; & had rather cease to be, than cease to be young. Hee that tells a woman, shee hath a wrinkle in her face, giues her a woūd in the hart. If her com­plexion faile neuer so lit­tle, her spirit falls with it. Shee feares not Death a­whit, [Page 59] but his ordinarie forerunner, Age. Many men also become vvo­manish; & haue herma­phroditicall minds. If a verdit of vvomen once pronounce them ill-fa­uor'd, they streight se­quester themselues from the world; as, vnworthy of the world. I care not if my corruptible part rot, so my fairer part fade not: nor passe I so much for the beautie of the Case, as for the glorious splendour of the inclosed Image.

Many trauell: but, few [Page 60] deserue to be stiled Tra­uellers. To fetch-home apish gestures, queint fa­shions, new vices, is now becom the proposed end of a Traueller. There is no better sport, than to read some of their writ­ten Obseruations. One sets downe, what delicate Wines, and Salats haue been subiect to the com­mand of his palate. Ano­ther discouers strange stratagems in a gun-hole. A third, writes out all superscriptions of Ho­spitals, &c. Phy vpon it; that a man should goe from home, to goe from [Page 61] himselfe, and returne de­stitute of the little wit he caried out with him. The wisest of Grecians estee­med him wise, who had seene many Cities, and the diuers manners of men. Euery Carrier can see many Citties, & the different natures of Na­tions: but, to discern be­twixt them, & pick wis­dome out of them, that requires the man; and such a man did Homer re­quire. The reason why wee trauell, is, because all happy wits raigne not vnder one Climate; and therfore are to be hunted [Page 62] out. Who would not wade a million of miles, to enterchange discourse with a Scaliger, a Lipsius, or a Causabone? My mind therefore shall tra­uel more than my body; when the later rests, the former shall labour: and my care shal be greater to please my Vnderstāding, than my Sense.

It is a common saying, that a continuall compa­nion is a mans shadovv. This saying is neuer so true, as when a substan­tiall fellow hath an Asse, and a shadowe to associ­ate [Page 63] him. And as shadows cannot be seene in dark­nesse, but by light; no more can darke and dull vnderstandings discerne this shadow frō this sub­stance: for, that cannot bee discouer'd without the light of some bright Intellect.

An Hypocrite thinkes himselfe the vvisest of men: but, at last he finds it otherwise. He thinks, that his knauerie is vn­seene, because it is vnpu­nisht: but, hee is decei­ued. For, not onely the searcher of hearts sees [Page 64] him, but also men (who can guesse at hearts) will at length espie him. For, as hee that weares ano­ther mans garment, will at length bee discouered either by the ouer­length, too shortnesse, or ouer-widenesse, or some other default of the rai­ment: so he that puts on an outward habite of sin­cerity, of which he neuer had the lowest inward tincture, will in time bee found faulty through the want of some thing, or other, requisite to such a holy professor. I will not therefore dissemble, ei­ther [Page 65] with God, or man; but, professe that liuing, which I will pronounce dying.

Some will imitate Great men thogh it be in the greatest vices. These are miss-led by opinion. For, as a golden rule, be­ing crooked, cānot mea­sure a thing, so well, as a plaine straight stick: so neither can wee square our actions by the vnru­ly liues of Princes so fitly, as by the plain, euen, and vertuous courses of the Poor. I will honor Great­nesse: but, I will both [Page 66] honour & imitate good­nes; and will not hold him good who is great, but him great who is good.

A drunkard is no good secret-keeper. It is the property of a drunkard, to disgorge his bosome, with his stomak; to emp­ty his minde, with his maw. I will, therefore, not tell a bibber what I would not heare againe; least I heare of it againe, from those to whom I dare not auouch it againe.

Some say all they hear; [Page 67] & report that with con­fidence, which was rela­ted to them with doubt. These alwayes purchase laughter; and now and then peril. I wil not, ther­fore, tell all I heare: but, I will heare, againe and a­gaine, that which I tell.

Curiosity, and Inqui­sition, are two great ene­mies to Wisedome One being demaunded what Caesar whispered in his eare, made answere, that Caesar tolde him, hee would inuent a very strange punishment for such as pried into his [Page 68] words, and actions. This Vice is very incident to young Courtiers: who inquire after the discour­ses and courses of Ioue & Iuno; of the King and Queene. I will not aske what I should not aske; least I hear what I would not heare.

There is nothing so much to bee desired in this world, as health; Without it, the body cannot trauell; nor the soule well discourse. Without it, Kings e­steem themselues more miserable than Beggers; [Page 69] and would giue their Kingdomes for an houre of ease. I will vse health, as I do my dearest friend. whome I detaine by all meanes I can: and, going away, I straight deuise how to get him againe.

No vice gets a man so many enemies, as Pride. The humble loath the proud man, because hee is so farre different from their straine: and the haughtie hate him, be­cause hee would equall them. If I bee proud of any thing, it shall bee of my humilitie.

Some make their bellies their gods; and pray to him that feedes the Foule of the Aire, to feed them with the Foule of the Aire. They are not so much solicitous what they shall weare to-mor­row, as what they shall eat to-morrow. For my part, as I will looke to my bellie, that it sterue not; so I will looke to it, that it stretch not.

No humane study is so profitable, as morall Phi­losophie. No other study, saith Seneca, can dimi­nish [Page 71] greefes, and subdue Passions; nor make a man more liberall, more iust, more temperate. Seneca might haue also added, that no other study can fit a man with manners, and a faire behauior. Fer­dinand the Emperor, ma­king a speech in a publike assembly, by chance gaue Priscian a fillip or two. Which a Bishop hearing, started vp, and said; Cae­sar, you haue forgotten your Grammar: to whom Caesar, And you haue for­gotten your Ethicks, Bi­shoppe. The reply was good; but, not rough e­nough [Page 72] for an admonitiō [...]o rude. From, hence it is that Schollars, defectiue in this studie, are tear­med, by the Vulgar, Meer Schollars; that is, Pure [...]uppies. Before I seeke to know other things, I will [...]eeke to knowe my selfe.

Constancy is no vertue, if it be (might I so speak) devoted to vice. Change, in the vitious, is as great a vertue, as Constancie in the vertuous. I wil ther­fore be incōstant to Vice, who is incertaine and in­stable of her selfe; & con­stant to Vertue, who is [Page 73] euer the same, and her selfe.

They say, there is a kind of resemblance be­tween Sleepe and Death. As therefore hee that is wearied with the dayes toyle, doth not grudge to goe to bed, as hoping to rise againe: So I, opprest with the excesse & cares of many dayes, wil glad­ly sleepe-out that long, slowe-pas't Night. Nei­ther will I think much to goe to my earthly bed; as knowing that I shall rise againe, and put-on an incorruptible raiment.

Mariage was ordained by God for mans com­fort: and yet man often times abuseth it to Gods dishonour, and his owne discomfort. The reason heerof is, because al bo­dies are not of one con­stitution: and therefore soules, following the hu­mors of their bodies, haue not all one disposi­tion. VVhen therefore two differing natures meet, & see they are tied one to the other; they will cut the very thred of life, to be loose, though it be with the loss of their [Page 75] soules. Parents, therfore, do ill, to match those to­gether, betwixt vvhom Nature hath placed an Antipathy, & a loathing. What a cruell part is it of a Parent, to marry his childe to him that hath most, whē shee hates him most? I pray God, some of them doe not one day giue a deare account of some deare soules, whose faire bodies they haue begotten; doing perpe­tuall penance, for placing wealth aboue woorth. Had I a child, that loath'd the man that I lik't, I would sooner send her to [Page 76] the Church-yard to bee buried, than to the Church to be married; and should thinke, I did her a greater courtesie, to wed her to a Graue, than to Griefe.

There is nothing that man at once glories in, and grudges at, but Ser­uice. Hee is proud, when hee thinks himselfe the servant of God: and hee is abiect, when hee consi­ders that hee is subiect to his fellow subiects. Hee mutters against God, ac­cusing him of iniustice, for that hee dimmes his [Page 77] bright beginning, with a base succession; & made him not only to his own glory, but also to augmēt the vaine glory of men. The very name of King, is as an allarum to stir & rouse vp his envy: and he feares him with the same feare, that he does the di­uell. Man is deceiued: for, the Deity is serued not onely in the Deity, but in Magistrates, in Parents, in Tutors; & in all those, whom hee, that is aboue all, hath placed aboue vs. I will not therefore think I serue God onely, when I immediatly obey his [Page 78] will; but also, when I o­bey the wills of those, whom hee wills me to o­bey: & I wil make a holy vow, of an idle comple­ment; vowing my selfe the servant of his ser­uants.

As there are few good Physicians for the body: [...]o there are not many for the soule. As those of the bodie let many die, for want of skill: so those of the soule let manie pe­rish, because they knowe not how to apply them­selues vnto them. I haue seene an Empirick pre­scribe [Page 79] a cold remedy for a colde disease; like those who seek to cure the de­speration of Gods mer­cie, with the declaration of his iustice. As therfore the Physician of the bo­die is not esteemed, ex­cept hee can giue a reason for what hee does; no more is the Physician of the soule to be valued, vn­lesse hee can giue a reason of that hee saies. GOD hath left to his Ministers, weapons to wound, and balmes to heale; Keyes to open, & keyes to shut: but, some of them wan­ting theological pruden­cie, [Page 80] manage these things amisse. As, therefore, knowing the constituti­on of mine owne body, I will giue the Physician direction in som things: so, knowing well the ill e­state of mine own soule, I will in some things sup­ply the defect and igno­rance of my ghostly Phy­sician.

It is a common speech, that Euery man is either a foole or a Physician: that is, he knowes, what does him good, and takes it; and look what does him hurt, hee refuses it. It [Page 81] fares not so in matters of the soule. For, in those, most are fooles: and few are Physicians; like chil­drē, coueting that which harmes them, and flying that which helps them. I care not if I be a foole in my bodily diet, so I be a Physician for the health of my soule.

It is a thing worthy the consideratiō; that thogh the soule be her selfe im­prisoned in the body, yet shee cannot endure that her prison should be im­prisoned. Of this there is a two-folde reason: first, [Page 82] because shee loues not to be double walled in; and, secondly, this brings to her mind, her owne im­prisonment, vvith the thraldome, and subiecti­on shee liues in to the Sense. Yet withall, tis a thing remarkable in her, that shee is neuer so glad, as when shee hath giuen her body the slip, & left it imprisoned in the Graue: though at Natures first motion, she was loth to part from it; as hauing dwelt so long in it. Lord, let my bodie goe to his earthly prison, that my soule may enioy that hea­uenly [Page 83] liberty. So shall she bee free of Heauen, and free from Earth.

Examples, taken from Great men, hurt more, than if they were taken from Poore. The reason is, because adversitie makes a man know him selfe; whereas prosperity makes him knowe him­selfe too well. Now, it is more safe to follow him, that knowes him selfe, than him that does not. For, as a true knowledge of God, and of his truth, is the beginning of di­uine wisedome: so a true [Page 84] knowledge of a mans selfe, is the beginning of humane. I will therfore sooner imitate those whō misery hath tamed, than those whom ioyes haue made wilde.

It is a great follie, to write, and print things foolish. Things foolish I call things lewd, & void of sense. Tis strange, that man should not bee con­tent, that onely the pre­sent generation should call him foole; but, that posterity also shold prick & picke him out for one. For my part, I will not [Page 85] impart that knowledge to any man, which may make him forget himselfe; and (when hee comes to remember himselfe) may make him knowe that I forgot my selfe.

All flatterers are odi­ous, and dangerous; and aboue all others, the Cree­per. The first and most pernitious that euer was, was a Creeper, & begui­led the Woman; vvho thoght that such a craw­ler could not haue such craft, as afterward shee found he had. Such Flat­terers are poyson to [Page 86] Princes, and oftentimes a bane to the best dispo­sed. Flattery is now-a-dayes admitted into the Courts of Princes: nay, into the bosome of Prin­ces; not cōsidering that though her ward below, yet shee aymes high, and hits those soonest vvho lie highest. Those Courts are as happy that want her, as those are cursed & vnhappy that haue her.

As the stomack if it be fedde a long time with one meate, at length loathes the same: so the soule despises ordinary [Page 87] & accustomed discourse. I will therefore feede my soule with varietie; but, not with confusion.

Euery man thinks, that, which is opposed to the extreamest of his griefes, to be mans chiefe felici­ty. The poor man iudges riches, the sicke man health, the prisoner li­berty, to bee the highest happinesse. I my selfe, when I haue been discon­tented (as I haue beene often) haue thought con­tent to be the best blisse: and I often fall into the relapse, and imbrace [Page 88] that opinion. Hence-for­ward, I will place my fe­licity in those things, which may bring me to that neuer fading felicity: and if my soule haue con­tent heere, I will thinke that shee is contented with this world; and so hath lost the only marke of her immortality.

God lookes for most honour from those, to whom hee hath giuen greatest honor. As Prin­ces haue the highest place vpon Earth; so should they do the grea­test homage to Heauen.

Nothing in this life is so vnsauory as Old-age. The sadnes of mans last dayes, is sufficient to pay him for the folly of the first. The neerer Age comes to her growth, the neerer Beauty is to her bane. For, in this pen­siue time, euery thing withers, and groweth old, but Euill: and that retaines his full vigour. Lord, let my soule then flourish when my body fades: and let the con­cord of my minde fight against the discord of my body.

Nothing is so terrible to the greatest part of mortality, as Death. This little leane dwarfe will beard a Monarch, in the midst of his Army; making him shake, that whilome shook Towers, and made the Earth it selfe tremble with the weight of his Hoaste. Great Alexander was a little childe in this: and though he had often met Death face to face, yet at last he turned his back to him, and would haue hid himselfe from him; as hoping to be inuisible to [Page 91] his inuisible Enemy. What an absurdity is it in a man to seek to choak Nature! or to grudge her the voyding of her excre­ments! As when I was borne, another died: so I will consider, that when I die, another is borne. If Nature bee wearie of mee, I will bee weary of my selfe: I were a foole if I should not. For, as no man can play vpon a broken instrument; no more can any soule recre­ate her selfe with a bad instrumentaliz'd body. If, therefore Life flie from me, I will not flie from [Page 92] Death.

When men are calum­niated, they growe an­gry: and if they be repre­hended for any predomi­nant vice in them, they seeke to excuse and exte­nuate it. I will not do so; but, will hearken to E­pictetus: who wils mee, not to deny the sinnes mine enemy taxes mee with; but, to reproue his ignorance: in that, being vnacquainted with the infinitie of my crimes, he layes only two or three to my charge; whereas indeede I am guilty of a million.

As Sin sold the world to Death: so Death bought the world at the hands of Sinne; it being the will of the heauenly Father, with the death of one to buy euerlasting life for all. Blessed be he then, that died the cursed death of the Crosse, that wee may lead a blessed life without crosses.

Christ himselfe sayes, that Many are called, but few are chosen. Many are call'd Christians, who are not chosen to liue with Christ. Many [Page 94] are in the Church, that are not of the Church: and many visible mem­bers there are, which be­long not to the inuisible body; nor receiue their motion from the inuisi­ble Head. We, whose soules look vpon others throgh the dimme spec­tacles of Sense, doe often times take a Iudas for a Nathana [...]ll, and (con­tarily) a Simon Peter, for a Simon Magus. Let vs then spare to iudge; least wee be iudged to bee vn­iust, by that iust Iudge, at the dreadful day of Iudg­ment. I, I: this is a [...] [Page 95] course; and this wil I ob­serue: because I knowe not, whether or no, the Saul I see novv, may proue a Paul to-morow.

The world delights in those, that delight in it. The reason therfore, why the world cōtemnes me, is because it is cōtemned of mee. So then there must be a mitigation on both sides. To a mitiga­tion I may be brought; to a subiection, neuer.

The diuell is neuer so busie, as when a man is idle. Hee hath no so fit [Page 96] instrument to worke by, as by Sloth: which is, in­deed, the mother of vice. I will therefore abandon this mother; least in time she bring mee to that fa­ther.

Many pray: but, fewe pray aright. Some pre­sume to beg that, which God in his iustice cannot grant: and others againe despaire to craue that, which God in his mercy will not deny. I will not therefore begge all that which I would; but, all that which I should.

There is nothing in this world, that all men shunne so much, as Base­nesse: yet many run into it, because few know the true definition of it. Opi­nion styles many things base, which Vertue calls bright, and glorious. We see Gentlemen asham'd, and hang downe their heads, when they looke vp to the place, vvhere their Ancestors sate. And why doe they this? Be­cause they doe not think it any disparagement, to decline from the vertue of their Ancestors; but, [Page 98] from their riches. If Po­uertie take-vp her resi­dence in mee, or change beings with me; yet shall she neuer make me think my selfe base, so long as Vertue leaues mee anie one sparke of her bright­nesse.

The basest griefe of all, is that, which receiues his birth frō the death of a Horse or a Cow; or from the losse of the two too high-priz'd Metalls. Phy vpon it, that a man should hurt his internall substāce, for the want of externall. If the Sun and [Page 99] Moone shine vpon mee, I shall thinke they doe me a sufficient fauour; with­out presuming to im­plore their descension in to my pockets: but, if the Sunne and Moone, that is, Gold & Siluer, vouch­safing to make my poc­kets their Spheres, shall afterwards (out of their Planeticall inconstancie) skippe out, and wander frō me; I wil not mourn, and say, I haue lost them: but, that I haue rendred, and sent them backe to him, who sent, and gaue them vnto mee.

Pouertie lyes begging in the streets, and no man pitties her. The reason is, because it is against the nature of man to pittie a cōmon enemy to Man­kind. Man should consi­der, that though Pouer­tie bee his worldly ene­my, yet she is his spiritu­all friend.

Euery thing hath his fit application: but, few find it. Some, by the ex­traordinary application of a thing common, will bring the Reader both into admiration and de­light. [Page 101] Others againe, by an vnwittie application, make non Sense; and in­fuse lothing into the nice stomack of the Reader I wil apply nothing, which may not imply some­thing.

All men cry-out for plaine dealing: but, fewe loue the trade. It is an old Prouerb, that he that vseth it long, shall die a beggar. Sure I am, that hee, who vseth it euer, shall die rich: Hee that [...]aw him in secret, wil re­ward him in secret. Hee shall enter, and inhabite [Page 102] heauen, and partake of that true treasure; wher­as the hypocrite leaues his wealth behind him, and carries his woe with him.

Eating, and drinking too much, are two great vices. Yet, of the two, too much eating is the grea­ter. To drink too much, comes often times from constraint: but, to eat too much, proceeds from a mans inordinate appe­tite. Hee that is a drun­kard, may iustlie blame others: but, he that is a glutton, can iustly blame [Page 103] none but himselfe. I wil, therfore, make my appe­tite conformable to my digestion: so shal I be sure neither to eat too much, nor too little.

Some fearing their names should die, build houses; to make posteri­tie know, that they once were, and were wealthy. This indeede tells the world that they had pur­ses; but, not that they had pates. He is the man, who trusts not to often­tripping Tradition; but pleads his owne Cause to Posteritie; making her [Page 104] confesse, that hee was a man of deeds, thogh not a man of drosse.

A great mans fauor is hardly got, & easily lost. Hee keeps a man to serue his turne; but, not to ob­serue his turnings. The greatest part of his fol­lowers, are like his hor­ses: they carry him; and hee guides them. That hors which offers to fling him, or that is not tēder­mouth'd, hee puts off, as a head-strong Iade. It is better therefore to serue God, who is voyd of all accidents, and humors; [Page 105] than man, who by them is made voide of reason: and hee that is most vnfit to obserue man, is the most fit to serue God.

The Church militant, labours to bee vnited to the triumphant; and the triumphant longs for the vnion. Lord then ioyne them; and let sor­row seuer them no lon­ger.

Nature binds men one to the other; but, neuer so fast as when she chains them together with the linkes of vertue. Nature [Page 106] may make mee loue my kinred: but, Vertue will make mee doe more.

Hee that hates a man, because he hath some no­torious vices, is rash and vnaduised: for, if hee did but looke into the same man, he should find some eminent vertues in him. I will not shunne his pre­sence that hath a good nature, and but one ver­tue; as knowing my selfe to be all vitious.

It is an vsuall speech, that nothing is saide, vvhich hath not beene [Page 107] said before. If it be meāt, that no words are spoke, which haue not beene spoke before, that is false: and if the meaning bee, that nothing is thought, vvhich hath not beene thought before, that is false too. For, we see that euery day reveales a new secret to the world; and that for neuer heard-of thinges, wee are faine to faine neuer heard of words. I will rather think all braines are exhausted, than Nature.

Vertue is placed euen in the middest of Vice. [Page 108] Liberalitie, is placed be­twixt Auarice and Pro­digality; Valour, betwixt Cowardise & Rashnesse; Mercie, betwixt Cruelty, and a fond Lenity. Take courage, Vertue: thou shalt once shake-off thy priuation; and put-on a habit, without reiterated actions.

Hee that meets with a contentious foole, doth wisely in granting all hee obiects: for, it is more policie, to gaine a friend without trouble, than a foe with it.

[Page 109] The same holdes with GOD, that does with great Lords: he loues to be well followed and at­tended. But, neither de­sert, nor great friends, can preferre a man to him: onely those whom hee likes, hee chooses. I had rather follow him, than go before Emperours.

A yong man is like a wilde horse; who, if hee want a curbe, will runne himselfe to death. Those parents, therefore, are wise, who ioyne correc­tion, with direction; and keepe those in, who else [Page 110] would lash-out.

It is a thing difficult, to finde out the humors of men; because many dissemble their dispositi­ons. This businesse re­quires a crafty, and ex­perienced wit: for, de­ceit is neuer so soon dis­couer'd as by the deceit­full.

Passion is the onely e­nemy to Wisedome. He that conquers this ene­my, makes Wisedome his friend.

A lingring hatred is [Page 111] badde. Gods children are angry, yet sinne not. My wrath shall go down with the sunne: but, my loue shall endure longer than the sunne it selfe.

Affectation makes a wise man a foole; but, if it meete with a foole, it makes him an intolera­ble Asse. In these later, lame times, we see many affect defects; and to bee proud of that, which in­deede they should bee asham'd of. Since Na­ture hath made me som­what better than a foole; let mee beware, that af­fectation [Page 112] make mee not worse than a foole.

It is a question worth the inquiring into, whe­ther or no, all ostentation bee to be auoided. The Philosophers cried-out, Sume superbiam quaesitā meritis: Assume a pride proportionable to thy me­rits. And indeede, both Morality, and Policy, perswade it; for, general­ly, wee see those vnder­ualued of all men, who vnderualue themselues. Yet, the word of God is to be obserued, before the obseruations of men.

Cōmines obserues this in Lewis the XI. that hee would euen toile, to gain any man that might ei­ther profit, or hurt him This is an excellent policie; and little or nothing (or rather, in nothing) repugnant to diuinity.

Religion is often made a cloak to villany. But, at one time or other, Villany will cast-off her cloak: and he that is wise, will perceiue and detest it. I wonder, that men do not tremble (as being before God) when they [Page 114] dissemble before men.

Nothing should so neerely touch, nor so much moue a Prince, as a base report of his pre­decessour; though hee were his vtter enemy. For, though he himselfe lead the life of a blessed Angell; yet, from some mouthes wherein Ca­lumny cloysters her selfe) as much imputa­tion shall bee laied vpon him, as can be cast vpon the Diuell; which, his Successour, in imitation of him, will winke-at. How many ministers of [Page 115] hell, now-adayes not on­ly reuile Gods on Earth, with words, but with written wordes also? Historiographers may lightly touch the faults of Princes: but, if they raile at their persons, they cease to bee Historians, and become maleuolent Oratours. Princes, ther­fore, should not imagine that their present fame wil be permanent; but, should take this prescri­bed, or som other course: by which, they may as well stoppe the mouthes of the reuealers of their vices, and reuilers of their [Page 116] persons; as let-loose the tongues that trumpet­out their vertues.

As, on the one side, it sauours much of indis­cretion, to remember a man of any thing by which hee hath either done himselfe disgrace, or receiu'd it frō others: so, on the other side, it is a point of Wisdome, to put one in minde of any action of his brauely per­formed; of any speech of his vtter'd with the asto­nishment of the audi­ence▪ or of any Office in the Common-wealth, [Page 117] which hee hath vnder­gone with honour, and with augmentation of his reputation. Hee that delights to displease men, will at length reape no great pleasure.

Humility may bee without honour: but, honour cannot be with­out humility: if it bee, it is but bastard. There is no surer way than this, to finde-out bastards, fa­ther'd vpon the Nobili­ty.

It is foolish, to bragge of riches, or any external [Page 118] thing, in the company of others. For, the better sort will thinke it done in enuy, and emulation of them: and the worse will take it done, in con­tempt of them. He that brags of things without, hath but little within.

If the Miser did but looke into what he does, hee would neuer bee so miserable. He is euer so­licitous; and hath scarce one happy houre in the course of his whole life. He hoords and layes-vp, not knowing who shall enioy it: and oftentimes [Page 119] they enioy it, who lay it out as fast; not caring what become of it. So that it plainly appeares, the whole life of an Vsu­rer is nothing but misery and vexation. O that a Cormorant did knovve, how many beautiful bo­dies starue, & how many substantiall soules faint, for want of his cash! hee would not onely willing­ly part with all his pelfe, but sel his owne body to solace their soules. But, indeed, he is not so much to be blamed: because, whereas charity begins at home in others, crueltie [Page 120] beginnes at home in him: & he almost starues himself, that others, whō hee suffers to starue, may not take exception. Eue­ry-one is not guilty of this Vice. The Prodigall hath such vse for his mo­ny at home, that he can put none to vse abroad. Some get by the vse of their mony: he loseth by the vse of his.