MORALL Obseruations.
By W.W. Gent.
LONDON, Printed for Edw: Allde, and are to be sold at his house ioyning to Christ-Church. 1616.
TO THE MOST HOPEfull light of true Nobility, the right honorable Iames Lord Matreuers.
RIGHT honorable, the increase of yeares in mans life, hath the best comparison to the succeeding perfections of the worlds age: Wherein (if reuelations, and reuealed teachings be excepted) wee finde by obseruation of Historie deriued vnto vs, a waxing, and waining in all Arts and actions: A breeding, an infancie, a towardlines, a perfection and state, and then a [Page]d [...]clyning, so that such inspection of the worlds storye, is a fit representation to be considered for the formatiue trayning of our particulariti [...]s from the first, and weakest capacitie of instruction, to the last and strongest abilitie of performance: which will produce the best, and most enabled endurance of vnderstanding vigor in the declining yeares: which though naturally they breede decay in strength, and power of naturall functions, yet with such Custome of vse, in the long and constant exercise of a vertuous minde, cannot want sufficiencie of all possible supportment, that may be expected from the true groundes of a well tempered vnderstanding. Those things wh [...]ch full yeares hauing attayned can teach others, are not fit to be presented vnto such yeares, but serue as fruites allready rypened, to be layed, and kept in store, at seasonable times to be bestowed on children and younger yeares. Such be these obseruations, which I present to your honor, desiring therein nothing [Page]more, then the commending of ready will to doe all honest and seruiceable duties to your Lordshippe.
Morall Obseruations.
Ʋse of Tyme, bookes, and reading.
AMong all things precious, nothing is more precious, nor any thing so much ours, as Tyme.
2 Euery houre is to be embraced in our armes; for he, that hath his hand in to-day, shall the lesse care for tomorrow.
3 The first signe of a well composed minde, is to settle with it selfe, or to stay at home. ‘Secum morari.’ Sen:
4 The turning ouer of diuers volumes together, breedes confusion; it tastes somewhat of a wandering and vnstable disposition. ‘Nusquā est, qui vbi (que) est.’
5 Who runnes thus on Pilgrimage, meetes with many Innes, and fewe friends; he sees much, and learnes little.
6 Nothing more offenciue to health, then variety of remedies; A Plant often transplanted, seldome prospers; and a multitude of bookes, distract the minde.
7 Read choyce, and approued Authors; and when you growe wearie, leaue, and retyre to the same againe.
8 Though we cannot read all we haue, yet (which is better) let vs haue all wee read.
9 In much reading, somthing will offer it selfe to your obseruation, vse, or seruice; Let not that slippe indigested, or till meditation haue made it your owne.
10 Somtimes, it is not amis, with Seneca to visit the tents of strangers, yet not as a fugitiue, but as an intelligencer.
11 The vse of bookes is to be lymitted, as the vse of meates, according to the quality of the vser; for in all things, what is too little for one may ouerlaye another; Theref [...]re, the best is, not to desire aboundance, but enough, this is alwayes profitable, yet sometimes ‘ [Page]hurtfull. Omne nimiū, vertitur in vitiū’
Choyse of a Friend.
VVHen you esteeme any to be your friend, whome you dare not trust as your selfe; you may thinke you are therein deceaued, as not discerning betwixt an acquaintance and a friend, or not well vnderstanding the nature, and power of friendship.
2 A man full of imployment, and acquaintance, can haue no greater miserie, then to repute those for his friends, to whome he is no friend himselfe.
3 Before friendshippe consider, after friendship trust.
4 I say consider long before you admit any to be your friend, but once being admitted, entertaine him in your bosome, lodge him in your heart, and talke with him, as with your selfe.
5 Some there are, who to euery one they meet, will vtter what they should onely impart to their friends, and tell all they feele itching in their owne eares; others againe are so scrupulous, that the honest conscience of their dearest friend, is not worthy of their secret; and if it were possible, they would conceale it from themselues. Neither of these, is to be liked; for it is an equall fault, to trust all, and to trust none. ‘Vtrum (que) vitiū est, et omnibus credere, & nulli.’
6 Consult freely with your friend of [Page]all things, but first of your selfe.
7 True friends will stand fast in aduersitie; they will loue, and frequent those moste that of Fortune are most forsaken. ‘Amicus certus, in re incerta cernitur.’
Wit and Memorie.
I Had rather haue a good, then an excellent wit, for that will not stoop to vildnesse, and this is flexible to any thing.
2 Great faults haue seldome issued, but from great wits.
3 A great Memorie, is a large stoarehouse, [Page]full of blacke smoaky imaginations, and yrkesome toyles.
4 In the remembrance of many things, few yeeld contentment; many vexation; and oft times, the very delights thereof are troublesome.
5 Of all other, the remembrance of an ill name, is most heauy and sadde, euen in the middest of all honor; so tender, delicate, and incurable aboue whatsoeuer els, is Fame.
6 Great molestation, is the inseperable Companion of great memorie; for some matters remembred sting the Conscience: some wound it; other terrifie, and vtterly confound it.
7 But why doe so many boast of their Memorie, and yet forget both the [Page] Tyme, and themselues.
8 All erre in this; that they desire to learne things worthie to be forgotten, and forget what is fit to be learn'd.
9 Will you knowe the best memorie? then obserue this; remember your sin, that you may be sorry: remember your Death, that you may forbeare: remember Gods iustice, that you may feare: remember his mercy, that you may not dispaire. ‘Quid memoriam jactas? vnde haec obliuio diei vnius? vnde tui ipsius?’
Ʋertue.
THe nature of vertue, is to attend, not so much what she hath done, as [Page]what shee is yet to doe; not so much what she enioyeth, as what she wanteth; from whence it is that shee gloryes not in what shee hath, but is sollicitous about that she hath not.
2. Me thinks, if (it were lawfull) I could say, Vertue is couetous, or much like to Auarice; For shee continually thirsteth, burneth, longeth: the more shee seekes, and findes, the poorer shee seemes, hauing no meane in her desires; and worthely: For indeed, the heape of true honour, and merrit, can neuer be too great.
3. Vertue is no Braggard, no admirer of her selfe, but an humble follower of others; And when shee aspires and sits highest, then she reckons her selfe least.
4. Vertue knowes this to be the time of [Page]warfare, not of triumph; Therefore shee is euer watching, euer in action. ‘Virtus p [...]it et in actione, la [...]ss [...] proficis.’
Opinion.
WHo thinkes hee is arriued to the point, or height of perfection, is first deceiued in this; That hee beleeued himselfe to be, where he is not; next he forsakes the right way by going wrong; and by anticipating what hee hath not, wittingly preuents, what he might haue had.
2. There is no such Aduersary, or hinderance to the pursuite of vertue, as the opinion of perfection; For who will [Page]labour for that which hee thinkes fit hath already?
3. If I haue any thing in me that is good, I knowe from whome it comes, and I am glad; If I want any thing, I knowe of whome to aske, and of him will I hope for it.
4. Opinion alters no matter, no lawes, no effect.
5. Vaine hopers, and louers, are like wishers and woulders, all selfe-deceiuers, and neuer to be trusted.
6. What if my Neighbours magnifie my name? May not each of them deceiue another, and all deceiue me?
7. The Cittyes, or Townes acclamations, should neuer make me thinke the [Page]better of my selfe; For in my inward soule, there is a more certaine, and incorrupt witnesse of me; my Conscience; Shee will tell me true, and I will trust her.
8. Opinion is but a certaine name, to an vncertaine matter.
9. Hee that is good in his owne opinion; is starke naught in very deede; For good men are with none so much displeased, as with themselues.
10. But I seeme not good to my selfe alone, but to others also: Yet what if I be naught and those other Fooles?
11. It is ill to deceiue others, but worse to deceiue your selfe.
12. Why, but all men speake well of me; [Page]Oh ioyfull newes; But shall I be so vnreasonable, as to beleeue all men? ‘Opiniorem non mutat.’
Vulgar Example.
THere is no knowne way so ready, and headlong to errour, as by the example and steps of the vulgar.
2 To please the vulgar, is to displease God.
3 Who layes vp his hopes, or settles his praises in the Common people, is like him, that sets withered plants, in barren plots.
4 Whatsoeuer the vulgar thinkes, is vncertaine:
‘Qui vulgi latratus ferre didicit, nullos horrebit Canes.’
Lybertie.
NOt he that is borne, is free, but he that is buryed; for ouer the first, Fortune hath great power, ouer the latter none at all.
2 We must not thinke our selues free because we are without Lord or Master: for wee cannot bee ignorant, at what yeares Hecuba, and Cresus began to serue.
3 Let no man swell with his freedome, and liberty; for not onely free men, but Kings haue beene brought to thraldome.
4 Vnworthy restraynt, is better then vnworthy liberty.
5 No restraint so strict, no poyson so noysome, as the Cage of our owne Carcasse; in which yet we loue to liue, as fearefull, and loath to be rid out.
6 Others write bookes in prison, and you vtter bootlesse sighes, and teares; others gett knowledge, and will you forget patience?
7 Many for the loue of God, or hatred of the world, or some other good end, haue chosen to liue in Caues, and [Page]holes: and if I cannot be of that minde but that I would faine be free, I must expect, till Man or Death, (who keepes an other Key) worke my deliuery.
8 Most Prisons haue but one way in, and many wayes out: mercy deliuers some, Iustice others, Innocency others; some get out by wit, some by money; some by the honest Keepers negligence, some by fauour of the night; (an Earth-quake may happen, to shake downe the walls) and others whom nothing els can help, Death will deliuer.
9 Prisons haue sent fome forth to their greater glory, others to excellent Fortunes, many to heauen, and all to their graues: to conclude, they receiue none, whom they render not againe. ‘Quibusdem, omnis vita supplicium visa est.’
Praise of Natiue Soyle.
LIttle auailes it any man to be borne in a famous soyle, vnles he harbour vertue, and hate vice in himselfe.
2 The chiefe praise of any Country, is the vertue of the men.
3 Cataline had not beene so infamous, but that his Country was so famous.
4 The eminency of a great, and famous Citty, holds many obscure, and of small account, whom the obscurity, of a bare-country-Village, would haue made eminent, and of much repute.
5 Your Country will be sure to challenge [Page]its owne praise, and participate with yours, for whatsoeuer you doe nobly, or well, is in manner, your countryes praise first, and yours after.
6 Plato thank'd, and praisd Nature; first for making him a reasonable creature, and not a meere Animall; a man, and not a woman; a Grecian, not a Barbarian; an Athenian, not a Theban; and lastly, for being borne in Socrates time, of whome he might receaue the further benefit of instruction and learning. ‘Nihil aeque Ciuitates amplificat, vt Ciuium virtus, ac gloria.’
Noble decent, praise, glory.
THe merits of noble and worthy Parents, are markes to degenerate Children, nothing more detecting the [Page]posterities vice, then the Parents vertue.
2 The vertue of one, may, and doth often help, and profit another, but if you raise not glory, and praise for your selfe, neuer expect them from an other.
3 The father may loue his sonne, and leaue him his land, but neuer make him laudable: hence it is, that oft times an infinite ecclips of the fathers light, is suffred in the sonne.
4 The shining glory of Ancestors, is good in this, that the posterity cannot liue hidden, though it would.
5 Glory is not gotten by noble birth, but by noble life; yea, (which is admirable) often by Death. ‘Nobilis non nascitur, sed fit.’
Imitation.
THe Imitation of great persons, is neither safe, nor necessarie for all men: euery feathered Foule cannot soar after the Eagle: some Imitators, will doe cleaue contrary; others, another thing; others, the same thing an other way; and few will Imitate to the full, as their example did lead them.
2 I know not how it falls out, that the vertues of our owne lyne, are lesse imitable to our selues, then to others; vnlesse it be, that vertue will not seeme hereditary: I speake faintly, but the thing it selfe speakes freely; The excellent sonne, of an excellent Father is rarely seene.
Raro excellentis viri, filius excellens fuit.
Comportment.
WHatsoeuer you doe, so doe it as if your enemies stood by.
2 That comportment is much better, that makes your Enemies admire you, then inuites your friends to excuse you; and cleerer is that Fame, against which none can obiect truly, nor dares falsly, then that, which is once touch't, and then purged. ‘Talis post exitū fama est, qualis ante exitum vita.’
Dyce-play.
DYce-play: oh vnsatiable, and huge deuourer; sad, and sudden waster [Page]of Patrymonyes; mindes fury, and perturbation; Fames obscurity, spurre of sinne, and path of desperation.
2 No prosperous end of Dyce-play, but all naught, all miserable; for both the looser is afflicted, and the winner entrapped.
3 What if you haue played, and woon? may you not play againe and loose?
4 What you haue woon, a thousand are watching to get from you, and that you haue lost, none will restore to you.
5 How many strange things haue wee seene done by very valiant, and worthy men at play, for a little money, which at other times, and places, the same men, would not haue done, for any earthly treasure? But there, is the kingdome [Page]where all vice raignes; especially Auarice, and Anger.
6 Lusi, vici, gaudio; I haue played, I haue woon, and now I reioyce: Oh impure play, oh damnable gaine: oh vaine ioy.
7 Let this suffice; that all gladnes in our owne hurt, is madnesse; all ioye in the same, meere folly. ‘Omne de suo malo gaudium, stultum est.’
Stage-playes and Players.
PLayers moue me to laugh; but what doe you moue them to? How often hath the Player laught in his sleeue at his best spectator, for laughing at him? how often musing at the madnesse [Page]of his admyrers, hath he seyned that, whereby, he hath falsely pleased them, and truly pleased himselfe?
2 He that entertaines Players, hath whereat to laugh, and as hartily to be laugh'd at, yea, and whereby, to be eaten vp. ‘Qui te rideant, & rodant.’
3 It is a consequent; that who findes taste in what's ill, is euer ignorant in that's good; nor in truth, can they be acquainted with noble actions, that are taken with vile, and base pleasures.
4 Who delights to see Playes, delights to see that, which can neither be honestly shewen, nor honestly seene, and hard it is to say, whether the Actor, or spectator be more infamous; the Stage, or the Stewes, the one being drawne with [Page]beggery, the other with vanity.
5 Many, whom Nature had framed gentle, and milde, Playes haue made fierce, and cruell: mans minde prone to vice, should rather be bridled, then vrged; for though it be left to it selfe, it hardly stayes, but being driuen, it runnes headlong, after the olde Age, They must needs goe, whom the Deuill driues.
6 Many mischiefes are conuayed by the eates, but many more by the eyes; for at the eyes, as at two open windowes, Death breaks in with violence, to the soule; The memory takes no impression so powerfully, as by the eyes; or eares often, and lightly let in, and let out againe; but what wee see, (vnlesse we see vnwillingly) sticketh fast: whether then doe you goe? or what fury hales you on to Playes? where you may [Page]be pleased for an houre, and displeased for euer; where you shall see that once, which a thousand times, you will wish, you had neuer seen.
7 The Fame, and reputation of women, haue been left, and lost at publique spectacles, and Playes; many haue returnd bold, and wanton from them; many, and many againe doubtfull, and wauering: But chaster, and soberer then they went, none, ‘Acies Histrionum, est sicut Muscarū, quae vnctū comitantur, siccum (que) destituant.’
Wisdome, Fortune, Folly.
WIsdome, and Fortune, rarely agree well together.
2 Fortune tells you, you are wise because you are wealthy; and makes you bold to say so: oh but heare, & beleeue Reason; if it were so indeed, you would neuer say so.
3 Things would goe well, if there were as many wise men, as professors of wisedome.
4 The first degree of a foole, is to thinke himselfe wise; the next, to say so.
5 Not to wish for that we cannot haue, but well to vse what we haue, is true wisdome: the first is common, the latter rare.
Ʋicinitie, and Enmitie.
IT is commonly seene, that where is neerest vicinity of houses, there is farthest distance of hearts: Nere neighbours, are seeldom free from iarres, and quarrells.
2 Many, will impute their owne faultes to their neighbour; so easily they can see, so exactly discusse, and seuerly censure their Neighbours defects; but (alas) their owne, they iudge, examine, and behold with the eies of fauour & pittie.
3. The more Enemies, the more cause to be aware, and better knowne; for how many worthies, had slept out their liues in obscurity, had they not beene awaked by Enmitie? Bias bids so loue [Page]our friends, as they may become our foes, which councell, though allowed by many, I like not; for it is the true bane of friendship. Therefore, in my hatred, I had rather thinke of loue, then in my loue thinke of hatred; I will not loue so, as I may hate; but if I hate, it shall be so, as I may loue againe. ‘Nulla Necessitudo est, qua non odijs esse possit infecta; sola Amicitia sincera, mali huius ignare est: nec magis odiosus Amicus, quam Amor etiam odiosus.’
Pietie to Parents.
THe fathers hardnesse, hath often prou'd the sonnes happinesse; his tendernesse, the others destruction.
2. If you endure a hard father now, remember [Page]the hard sonne, he hath suffred of you before.
3 There is no cause of a hard sonnes complaint, against his hard father; for hard mettalls are sooner mollified by their like; and many times, tender-handed Chirurgians leaue the Fouler scarres:
4 Fatherly frownes are lawfully excused by zeale, by Care, by feare, by age.
5 Of our Parents, wee must euer make honorable mention, or none at all.
6. I must neuer iudge of my father, but rather be iudged by him, as the secondary Author of my being: and if he be not capable of true praise, I will reuerence him with comly silence.
7. There is no power on earth more [Page]iust, then that of the father ouer the sonne; nor any seruice more honest, and due, then that of the sonne to the father.
8 If my father be yet liuing, I will serue, and attend him with duty, and dilligence; for an olde Father, is a dying Comfort.
9 My father being old, I had not need to be ydle: therefore, I will be busie in gathering the last fruits of him, as of a falling tree: I will alwaies be as neere him as I can, I will be desirous to see him; as one ready to take his leaue of me, and more desirous to heare him: his last words will I lay vp in the Closet of my heart: They will helpe to defend me, in the desert of this world, for when I would haue his councell, I shall seeke him, and not finde him at home.
10 If my father be impotent, and decrepit, I will tender vnto him the last offices of pyety, and seruice; for if I omit them now, they will vpbraid me hereafter.
11 The Fathers loue is great, the Mothers vehement: both such, and so great as scarce any Childes can be equall. ‘Nihil tam suum cui (que) est, quā filius Pat [...]i, nihil cuique in digntus eripitur.’