HE that stands by, and ob­serves the supple Ad­dresses, and sedulous applications of the Court, how greedily wise men sell their li­berties, and sacrifice their time unto it, with what patience they undergoe at­tendance, more grievous then pil­grimage, must needs imagine that to be a sacred mystery, which deserves such superstition; nor can he expect lesse than the Philosophers stone, where he sees so many furnaces set on work, and such rare Alchymists engaged.

[Page 2]He that marks the pomp and splendor of eminent men, the solemnity of their visits, the exactnesse of their ceremonies, and l [...]stre of their Equipage, cannot but be enamoured of so rare a scene, wherein each person acts a part of greatnesse, and every day seems to be festival.

He that examines the Grandeurs of Moecenas, the lofty flights of Favourites and chief Ministers; how they manage the reins of the Common-wealth, whilst Princes only sit in the saddle; how they give Laws to the people, signals to the souldiers, example to all; how all their vertues are magnified and multiplied, and even their errours with veneration concealed, with what ease they trample upon their adversaries, and preferre all their dependants, how can hee, re­frain from d [...]awing at so fair a Lottery, or escape those delicious charms, which would almost delude a Stoick, to mi­stake them for his summum bonum.

But, alas, these are only outsides, to amuse the ignorant, these stately scuth­eons serve but to hide a dead corpse, and these excellent odours to perfume a se­pulchre: [Page 3] The factions wherewith every Court and State is perpetually pregnant, The Envy and Emulation, which though not so loud, is yet perhaps fiercer then open war; The spies, which (like Eu­nuchs) are set upon all mens actions, and behaviours, to observe and report them to jealous Powers; The keen and po­stilent slanders and censures, by which even innocency is ensnared, or at best, perpetually alarmed, These are not pre­sently discovered, and indeed, fit it were, they should be concealed, lest we avoid Courts as persons in debt do pri­sons, and dread greatnesse like infe­ction.

It falls not within the compasse of every ones notice to observe how Gran­dees make a prey of inferiours, like fry in a fish-pond; and how the inferiours again, though emulating each other, yet with a secret spleen conspire unanimou­sly against the Favourite, like little bea­gles to pursue the Royal Stagge.

All are not sensible of the slippery e­state of great men; with what slender props those magnificent structures are [Page 4] supported, How brittle and fungous their greatnesse is, they being exposed, besides infinite other uncertainties, even to the saciety of their masters, who commonly delight in nothing more, than by chan­ging their Minions and servants, to ex­ercise the wantonnesse of Soveraignty; were but this duly considered, I am perswaded men would rather content themselves with the freehold of a Cot­tage, than grasp at Palace [...], where they are but tenants at will.

Few have the wisdome to foresee, how hard it is in greatness to pursue honest, and safe maximes, what resolu­tion is required for the Potent to be in­nocent, what Providence to bee so ac­counted; what sordid interests they are forced to espouse, and by what insensi­ble degrees they are brought at last to swallow those actions and compliances, without chewing, which at first, they looked upon with loathing; But alas, proceed they must, and in their stations apply themselves to serve the designs of their masters, for Princes will not en­dure that their Ministers shall dispute [Page 5] their pleasures. When it was proposed by Henry the third of France, to Gril­lon Captain of his Guard, that he, as the fittest instrument, should dispatch the Duke of Guise, the honest, but blunt souldier freely profest, that he was rea­dy, if commanded, to fight with the Duke; But to murther him un [...]onvi­cted, would not stand with his honour, being born a Gentleman, and professing Arms; which answer coming from one that was a sworn enemy to the interests of the house of Lorrain, deserves to be recorded to his everlasting praise; Yet though Grillon, that refused, was the wor­thier man, Lognac, who greedily ac­cepted the employment, seems to have been the wiser Courtier; The one, ex­posing himself to all the hazards of mis­construed vertue, the other, endearing himself to his Prince, by the pledges of guilt and odium, the greatest engage­ments of future confidence. For it was observed of Seianus, that his favour could not be purchased without some notable crime. If this were sufficiently weighed, such, I presume, as love ver­tue [Page 6] would not so precipitate themselves into publique affairs, where interest is seldome preserved without a shipwrack of conscience.

But besides, as the snares, hazards, and anxieties of great men are innu­merable, so their Eclipses are fatal, and their falls desperate; They are always surprised with ruine, and their defeat is like that of Legions, when they are cut in pieces before they can rally or make head. Private men oft times fall upon their legs, and finde friends to relieve, or at least pity them. Even Bankrout Merchants are daily seen to rise again, like Phoenixes out of their own dust: But with Courtiers and Statesmen, there are no degrees of misfortune; Their best comfort is not to survive their de­stinies, and their greatest misery is, when they outlive themselves, to see their fa­milies buried in their ruines, and all the advantages of their honour and for­tune, turned against them, like an Ar­my dissipated with the fury of its own Canon. Whilst they finde themselves forsaken of all those alliances which [Page 7] they had, with so much wisdome, con­tracted, imagining to have laid a foun­dation of everlasting greatnesse, whilst their best friends shun them most, and those that were rais'd by their counte­nance, dare not own any love or honour to their persons, lest they be likewise invol [...]ed [...]n their crimes; whilst their innocency is as it were proscribed, and impeachments finde such favour in their regard, that their own servants are en­couraged to betray them; Their ene­mies triumph over them, and all their [...]ontemporaries think to exercise their charity in affording them a kind of in­solent pity; The people which pro­bably hated, but feared them before, are now priviledged to curse them, and the Prince himself, in whose service per­haps they bleed, uses them as the skreen of envy, and hoping with their ruine to gratifie many, and please all, becomes inexorable.

In fine, they have no sanctuary to protect them, having long since forfeit­ed their innocency, the sweet retrea [...] of oppressed vertue: Were our gay spirits [Page 8] herein awakened, they would not so court danger as they daily do, but would rather learn to hugge themselves in a mediocrity of fortune.

It is no new thing to see the greatest vertue and merit mis-construed, and persecuted, even by those that owe i [...] most favour and protection. History is full both of the fatal rewards of wor­thy service [...], and tragical resentments of oppressed innocency. Even Henry the fourth of France, notwithstanding the absolutenesse of his power, and clearness of his fame, was observed hardly to brook any, that might seem to share with him in his Lawrels; The piety and wisdome of King David himself seems to be scarce exempt from such jealousie in the behalf of his kinsman Ioab, though covered with the speciou [...] [Page 9] [...] seasonable pretence of a Royal and ex­emplary Justice.

Whether it be, that excesse of desert turns at last to a kind of demerit, whilst Princes apprehend, that they cannot sufficiently requite it without impover­ishing themselves; Or whether soveraigns are apt to look upon the lustre of their subjects actions, as an Eclipse of their own; Or lastly, whether they think their Authority endangered by those whose eminent▪ Vertues have drawn the eyes of the people, or hearts of the soul­diers towards them, so that nothing seems to restrain them, but their mode­sty, which in the great, is ever justly su­spected; It is indeed but too evident, that Monarchs more willingly pardon great injuries, than great services; That they as ill endure the name of a Benefa­ctour, as of a Rival; And by the ex­ample of Galba, can least of all brook such as may seem to challenge the merit of their establishment. He seems too po­tent a subject that hath trod upon a dia­deme, and possibly he that hath once re­nounced a kingdome, may yet upon se­cond [Page 10] thoughts repent of his moderati­on.

Machiavel could invent but two sorts of remedies for so imminent a mischief; The first and more excellent, hee faith, is to yield to the torrent, by assuming no honours, arrogating no triumphs, entertaining small retinue; Finally, by taking all occasions to sleight their own atchievements, that so all glory may flow to the Prince, as to its Oceans, with­out the interruption of Mils or Dams; But since Vertue being the disease, Loy­alty seldom proves the cure: His next and safer counsel is, not to trust too much to innocency, merit, or present appearances, but to be as jealous as their masters, like Ravens, to smell Gun-pou­der at a distance, to lie perdieu for their own safety; And upon the first disco­very, to be before-hand with danger, to make use of the utmost advantages they are trusted with, to assure themselves of timely retreats and confederacies, that preventing fraud with fraud, and repel­ling force with force, they may be in a condition not only to stand upon thei [...] [Page 11] guards, but take revenge of their ma­sters ingratitude, and perhaps if need be, set up for themselves.

Truly, if we look upon the Counsel of this great Politick with the eyes of nature, above all things concerned in its own welfare, it seems to be a friendly whisper, an admonition full of prudence, and favourable to vertue; it teaches men to determine resolutely of their af­fairs, to cut off parboyled fear, and fro­zen delays, to hope even in despair, and to prevent preventions. Thus we read of Getulicus, that warned through the numerous examples of his masters rigor, by a kind of prudent disloialty, he secu­red himself, and of all Seianus his de­pendents, alone survived so bloudy a scene. Thus Agrippina, observing a change in the countenance of Claudi [...]s towards her, scarce thought her self a­live till he was dead.

Surely such unworthy practices are a foul reproach even to moral vertue, much more an infinite scandal to Reli­gion, especially Christian, with the bare profession whereof they cannot [Page 12] consist. Germanicus, albeit a Heathen, was a better proficient in true wisdome, who being at once exasperated by the undeserved malice of his Uncle, and tempted both by the loud applause of the people, and entire obedience of the Legions, yet chose rather to expect the Empire with danger, than with safety to possesse it, and preferred the envy of vertue before the security of a crime.

But what shall we think of great Bel­lisarius, disgraced, deprived not onely of liberty, but even of light, without conviction of the least crime, even by that great Law-giver Iustinian, whom his single vertue had rendred almost as great a Conquerour as Iulius Caesar? What shall we say of the great Captain Gonsalv [...], for feigned crimes in default of real, neglected and ruined by the same Ferdinand, the foundation of whose greatnesse was laid in his sweat and va­lour, not to say, his overmuch Loyalty, which tempted him even to break his faith for the service of his Prince? Or what shall we account of the Duke of Alva, who though he found feet to [Page 13] trample upon the weaknesse of unhappy Flemmings, yet had not a heel to lift up against the just power of an unjust ma­ster? What shall we think of these and many others, that have chosen rather to be innocent, than great or safe? Shall we believe they wanted either wisdome to discover, or courage to resent the cruelty of their Soveraigns? Or, shall we not distinguish their integrity, even with rubrical Characters, from the treason [...] and insolencies of Sylla, Catiline, Nar­ses, Bourbon, Guise, Wallestein, &c. who suffered themselves to be enforced by o­dious necessity▪ inveigled with wicked caution, or with treacherous opportu­nity debauched.

THough the Stoicks are to be much commended for their excellent I­deas of Vertue, their generous contempt of the body, and indifference in outward things, yet they seem with too much [Page 14] ostentation to undervalue Fame, even de­crying vanity with a kind of vain-glory. Certainly there is no reason why Vertue should altogether sleigth its own eccho, or such as professe the study of Immor­tality, despise that, which in surviving its subject, and outrunning time, hath at least some feature of Immortality.

It seems rather an heroical device of that noble Brederode, who lived at the be­ginning of the Low-Country warre, and worthy to be added to the dignity and antiquity of his coat of Arms, God pre­serve my soul and my honour; it expres­sed a lively endearment of his renown, since he thought it only worthy to bee mentioned with eternal happinesse; it proved, that he had Vertue in the high­est veneration, since he stooped even to kisse the hem of her garment.

I confesse, where Fame and Vertue are inconsistent, we are obliged, as it were, to save the V [...]ss [...]l from shipwrack, by lightning the fraught; But this is he severest touch-stone of Philosophy, neither hath conscience a worthier servant than he, who is content to [Page 15] espouse her, even with Infamy.

The Scriptures are so elegant in de­scribing the infamy of the wicked, as if they meant to aggravate it beyond any earthly misery, so establishing it, as a kind of unfeigned Purgatory between this world and hell, by these and the like Characters, the memory of sinners shall rot; And again, in the next gene­ration, let his name be extinct; from the latter of which places it is observa­ble, that they then immediatly proceed to blot that name out of the Book of life which they have first raced out of the Register of Fame.

And yet methinks, though Fame may bee desired as a concomitant of more important blessings, surely of it self, as Fame, it seems neither odious nor ami­able, but the most indifferent of out­ward things: When I read the last scene and final exit of Anthony of Ven­dosme, King of Navarre, who being mortally wounded at the assault of Rouen, by him, with infinite fury and bloud­shed, then taken & sacked, refused the ease and decency of a horse-litter to view his [Page 16] lamentable Conquest in a posture of tri­umph, and with this silly, or rather barbarous satisfaction, immediately breathed out his benummed and incon­siderate soul. I would fain imagine him already senslesse, and so not guilty of such sinful Pageantry: But, alas, how many are there, who in the midst of guilt and reproach, to gratifie their childish consciences, can listen to th [...] rattle of applause? nay, how many are they, that to purchase popularity, have sold their peace both outward and in­ward, like that other French-man, who freely hazarded and lost his life, to reco­ver his feather. Vertuous fame, I con­fesse, may be honestly wished, but to gape for it, is a beggarly and sottish am­bition: For as it is no more than worth finding, so it is utterly lost with over­seeking. Both Vertue therefore, and Prudence, require that our pursute of it be moderate and carelesse, like his that rides a hunting to take the air; if h [...] spring and catch a Partridge, it is well, but though he misse of Game, hee hath ye [...] obtained his end, whi [...]h was th [...] [Page 17] exercise of his body, and preservation of his health.

Truly we shall finde the lesse encou­ragement to court this seeming beauty, when we consider how light and pro­stitute [...]he is, and with how little choice she admits her Gallants; All person [...] and actions that are good or great, are promiscuously entertained, yet the great much rather than the good: Vertues she registers indeed in Quarto, but splen­did crimes are recorded in Folio; Nay, if we remember how corrupt and inju­rious [...]he often proves (as being prom­pted by successe) in loading oppressed Justice with Invectives, and dawbing prosperous Vices with Panegyricks, we may perhaps be rather tempted to dis­dain than bare neglect.

Wherefore the motives which encline wise men to value their fame, are not those shadows and dreams of an earthly immortality, nor yet the transportati­ons of affected honour, (for Vertue is no sensual or ticklish quality) but the real advantage it yields of improving their generous designs to publick benefit.

[Page 18]They finde that the Infamous are to some like infected persons and lepers, whom common Providence command [...] us to shun, to others like light women, whose company the aw of censure obli­ges us not to frequent, and to all, like such as disgracefully stammer or squint, whom we hear with impatience, and see with as much aversation, as we doe an Eclipse, which by tradition we believe to hurt the eye-sight; that there is nei­ther vigour in their precepts, nor vertue in their examples; since the merit of their vertues being swallowed up in th [...] scandal of their evil manners, they seem to put on the odious vizard of hypocri­sie, and to do well, in them, at best, is im­puted but to an escape of Custom. They see that even obscure persons where they might perhaps speak with advantge, yield rather to the modesty of secure and harmlesse silence. Again they ob­serve, that such as have once purchased an undoubted fame, are afterwards heard like Oratours, and obeyed like Magistrates; so that the only danger i [...], lest their Errours should get the reputa­tion [Page 19] of an axiome, and their Imperfe­ctions passe for current Vertue; As King Alphonsus of Arragon, being naturally wry-necked, soon begat in his Courtiers a general affectation of the Princes po­sture; That their discourses seem A­pothegmes, and their manners are ci­ted like the purity of Primitive practice; Finally, that upon their reproofs, not only private amendments, but publick reformations ensue. Great reason therefore they conceive to endear and vindicate their fame, the aid whereof doth so much further, and the want ob­struct the design of Vertue.

And yet perhaps those that are perfect in Philosophy, may seem so much al­ready to have surmounted fame, that they no longer need it, having cimen­ted and incorporated it with their man­ners: However, to Novices it is a ne­cessary incentive and guide; these like coals, not yet sufficiently kindled, must be blown with bellows, and like young swimmers upheld, though with a blad­der; To such it is like the Drum or Trumpet to raw souldiers, or the Re­veille [Page 20] to lazy Centinels. They use it as marks-men do their Aims; nay, they swallow it as hungry Fishes doe fresh worms. Neither ought we to discou­rage or despise the hopes of such au­spicious, though tender plants; Fo [...] albeit the Learned indeed determine that Vertue can have no worthy End without her self, yet surely these are Cacumina Philosophiae, rather to be wish­ed than expected; Lik [...] imaginary lines, described to fignifie the fantastick mo­tions of heavenly Orbs; or the Element of fire, imagined to subsist without fuel.

Should we confine our Vertue to these narrow limits, we must at once dash out the names of all those Worthies, whomglory hath enflamed, or emula­tion provoked, and then let us consi­der how thin the Register of fame would be; It would be hard to name any splendid action, especially amongs [...] Heathens, wherein Honour did not give the Biasse. To conclude, though Vertue cannot be too much exalted▪ yet being thus abstracted, it is in [Page 21] danger to resolve into meer Metaphy­sicks.

AS upright and good men ough [...] not to contemn their fame, so neither should the wise and eminent neglect their Reputation, there being nothing more available to the greatest persons in their greatest actions, than to ride in its triumphal Chariot; wholly to steer by it, is perhaps beneath them, but to carry it along with them, is but to sail with Wind and Tide, and should be, if not their study, yet their care, at l [...]ast to keep it always in their view, as a Sea-man doth hi [...] Compasse. For as Arts and Sciences have certain simulachra or shadows, which though in them­selves suppositious & feigned, yet serve to real purposes, and help to demon­strate exc [...]llent Truths; so in Policy it self, the trifle called Reputation, though but a blast of the peoples breath, [Page 22] proves sometimes so considerable, that scarce any Art or Conduct can supply its defect; Wisdome therefore which weighs all things in the scale of Ad­vantage, will not so undervalue it, be­cause it is vain, as not to cherish it, since it is useful.

It is observable of mony it self, the price of all things, that it was invented only for supply of Credit, ease of Com­merce, and abridgement of tedious barter; that it is only valued for being every where current: And indeed, since a very slender fortune would perhaps satisfie nature and ordinary convenience, Poverty it self were not poor if it were not attended with obscurity and neg­lect; neither can a wise man finde o­ther advantage in wealth, than to afford him the wing of Reputation.

Reputation is (as it were) sinews to the weak, and eloquence to the dumb; It removes obstructions, and answers objections before they are made; Har­bingers are not more necess [...]ry to Ac­commodate the Great, nor Pioneers to the Marche [...] of Armies in enclosed [Page 23] Countries; It is the right hand of A­ction.

To passe by Merchants, who in a manner breath no other Air, than that of their Credit; I appeal on the one side to all the principal Actors on the Scene of this world, if it have not af­forded them successe without hazard or difficulty; If it have not yielded them advantage beyond hope or fore-sight; If it have not been to them like a porta­ [...]le Bridge, or as a Bridge of Boats ly­ing always ready to transfort them over Rivers strongly guarded, and no where Fortable; On the other side, I ask the unfortunate, and such as have shipwrackt in their honours, if the want of it doe not oft oppresse them beyond any weaknesse of their own, or strength of their enemies.

In the affairs of war, how oft have we seen the wariest Generals rather choose to precipitate themselves upon the Rock of unequal hope, than lan­guish in a posture of inglorious safety, yea, though they naturally feared and abhorred the Critical events of battel, [Page 24] as discreet men do great game at Di [...] yet lest by declining the combat, [...] should appear they were not able to pro­tect their party, they have easily com­plied with the necessity of hazarding th [...] sum of their affairs, to maintain th [...] Reputation of their Arms. neith [...] commonly are they lesse jealous of pe [...] ­sonal honour, from which they mu­draw the very breath of their fortune [...] for it being once eclipsed, they are [...] expert, that every blast of ill succe [...] should disband their Troops, which ha­ving little confidence or aw of the [...] General, are only cemented by so [...]i [...]t and example; Upon which account Kaetherine de M [...]dicis, perhaps wisely granted large terms to the Protestant after the death of the Constable an [...] Duke of Guise; Since though the [...] wanted not Captains of equal wisdom and experience, yet they found not an [...] of Reputation sufficient to beget a uni­versal and unquestionable obedience.

Again, how frequently may we ob­serve Commanders, great indeed in cou­rage, but little or not over-much fa­ [...]oured [Page 25] by fortune; as Eumenes, Serto­rius, and even Marius himself among the Ancients; In latter times, Peter Strozzi, the Admiral of Chastillon, Wil­liam Prince of Orange, Francis the first, Henry the Great of France, and others, who having, even in the dissipa­tion of their Armies, preserved the en­tirenesse of their names, have suddenly arrested the precipice of their fortunes, and revived their withered Laurels, nay, some of them have at last built as it were one goodly Vessel, with the float­ing planks of many shipwracks.

Neither is Reputation more necessary in Camps, then in Courts and Councels; nay perhaps, Armies being still alarmed by the common enemy, preserved by one common interest, diverted with conti­nual action or duty, and tamed with Martial Discipline, swell not with such constant billows, nor seem so much to want the government of an eminent Pi­lot; Whereas in S [...]ates, the approaches of faction are so strong, the Mines so subtile, and br [...]aches so saultable, that to prevent or curb the insolency of Con­spirators [Page 26] spiratours, Wisdome, Valour, and even Majesty, have sometimes proved too weak, without the seasonable support of Reputation, which being the Atlas of Authority, hath a predominancy above power it self, and can like Tibe­rius, steer a Senate with its eye.

Upon it depends the very essence of Magistracy, since it is most certain, That the Scepters of Princes wax and wane with their honours, [...]nd that scan­dall or contempt hath still made way for their ruines, and in it consists the vigour and lustre of great atchieve­ments, for through its influence, Caesar, like a Basilisk, could kill his adversaries with his meer looks, and Germanicus reduce his revolting Legions with a bare harangue.

IT is clear, that R [...]putation highly condu [...]es to the safety and lustre of [Page 27] a Crown; That it delivers Princes from the perpetual thra'ldome & nonage of factious times, which (to use the Lan­guage of Lewis the eleventh) keeps them in their Pages Trunks, even after they have beards; That it renders them of Kings at the mercy of others, Lords at their own discretion. But this Rep [...]ta­tion is not easily nor presently acq [...]ired; For though we finde among the Romans Lucullus, and in l [...]tter ages, the Mar­quesse Spinola, who through maturity of Judgement, and vast Theory, be­cam [...] Generals as soon as souldiers, there­in imitating Princes, whose Preroga­tive it is to be born Leaders of Armies, yet others must [...]xpect to ascend the steep Mount of honour by many and difficult st [...]ps; N [...]y, Soveraigns them­selves, if they will, indeed, raise a lofty Reputation, m [...]st f [...]st lay their founda­tion in honest Fame, and beginning with the early and diligent practice of private Vertues, orderly proceed at last to signaliz [...] themselves by publick [...]t­chievments.

To be great in A [...]thority, they must [Page 28] first be great in Vertue: They must be vigilant and industrious, for greatnesse is the Captive of diligence; They must be patient and constant, that they prove not the Pageants of Fortune; They must be temperate, and of proof both a­gainst Luxury and Passion, for such as will indeed conq [...]er, must first practise upon themselves.

But truly, of all heroick habits, there is none that swels so big and suddenly with Reputation, as Valour; Whether it be, because it acts upon a more open Scene, and produces more immediate and visible effects; Or rather, because our servile and unthankful natures are apt to be more deeply affected with ter­rible then favourable objects; for even those that would trample upon the meeknesse of Henry the sixth, will crouch to the roughnesse of Henry the [...]ighth.

It was a wise reflection, even beyond the years of Charls the ninth, who up­on his death-bed expressed full satisfa­ction, That he lest a brother to succeed him, from the Reputation of whose ap­proved [Page 29] manhood, much might be ex­pressed to allay the tumors of a distem­pered State, rather then any cradle of his own, whose non-age and impotency would certainly revive and imbolden fa­ctions; But the event answered not the prudence and merit of his hopes; for that brother imagining that he had al­ready supererogated and got the start of honour in his youth, fancied, that to continue still in Armour, was but the life of a Tortoise enchassed in his shell, and thought it was now high time to ease his shoulders from the weight of a C [...]irass [...]: In fine, became as unsatia­ble in L [...]xury, as he had once been gree­dy of Conquest; whereby he fell int [...] the contempt and rivalry of his [...]ubject [...], who thinking that ease had melted and softned him to a gelly, and mistaking his sloth for a deep Lethargy, had lear­ned to undervalue that man, whose childhood they had feared, and were by his long patience encouraged to ac­cumulate their injuries, till, at last, de­spair extorted from him a resentment, pe [...]nicious first to his enemies, but at last to himself.

[Page 30]In ancient times. Kings were nothing else but Crowned Captains; Their Laurels were their Diadems, and their Swords their Scepters; They accoun­ted the danger of their lives a small hazzard, and only relished that Sove­raignty which they had themselves at­chieved, like Venison of their own hunting; By such vigorous policies, they exalted their Thrones above the reach of creeping faction, which d [...]lights rather in cheats and theifts then brave robberies, and commonly aims no higher then Burglary; The only Sedi­tions they feared, were the mu [...]ini [...]s and revolts of their Legions, when they wanted Pay, or disliked their Winter Quarters.

B [...]t in latter ages, policy varying, or rather manhood declining, Majesty hath left the field, and betaken it self to Ga­rison; It dwels no longer in Tents, but in Courts and Cabinets; Princes, they say, must not now appear in Armour, lest they hazzard that Reputation which in­deed they never had; It seems more honourable for them to act by their [Page 31] Lieutenants, I wish it prove as safe and prosperous: Philip the second could fill Europe with the noise and terrour of his vast Expeditions, himself scarce budging from Madrid, but he conq [...]e­red accordingly, and his Victori [...]s were but like the encroachments of the Sea, which what it gains in one place, is observed to lose in another▪ Certainly there is odds on Cyrus and Alexanders side against Croesus and Darius; N [...]ither is it easie to secure the tame Autho [...]ity of Chil [...]erick from the aspiring genius of Charles Martel.

This eminent advantage redounds to Princes by their continual pres [...]nce in the Camp, That into some it infuseth glory, to others it insinuates shame; It aff [...]cts all with emulation; That it se­c [...]r [...]s them from Competitours in honor, and forestals the treacherous hopes of ambition; Lastly, that it teaches en [...] ­mies to despair of any but dear and blou­dy Victory: for if the Romans accoun­ted that Town or Fortresse in a manner won, upon the walls whereof they had once planted a standard, knowing that [Page 32] the souldiers would not desist from their beloved Eagles; How much more in­vincible must their courage be, that fight in view of Soveraigns, who undergoing equal hazzards, stand ready to reward their merit, or punish their cowardise? Nay, their bare countenance is, to gene­rous spirits, an ornament above any re­compence, and their meer neglect a ter­rour beyond the sentence of a Court Martial.

The soveraign use of Princely Valour is to chain and muzzle the fiercenesse of such as, resembling Bears and other beasts of prey, know no restraint of mischief, but their impotency, to be like a fiery bit in their mouths, whom the gentle Snaffold of Authority cannot hold; It either is or should be but justice in a lar­ger Volume and bigger Character, dif­fering from it not re, but modo & gradu. Truly it is but an hard-favoured, rug­ged, and un-courtly Vertue, destitute of all those graces and charms which are wont to captivate our aff [...]ctions; Its face is fuller of skars, then old age of wrinkles, and its presence like the sur­prisal [Page 33] of Ghosts and Hobgoblings; its voice is as the sound of Thunder; dole­ful cries and confused noises are but its whispers; its [...]mbergreece is dirt and sweat; its perfumes are Gun-powder and Carrion.

And yet in the midst of these determents it hath likewise certain subtil enchant­ments, by which it attracts even love; Those that would sain accuse, are by a secret influence compelled to flatter it; so that it is become more popular, then Faction or Liberty it self. It is indeed a kind of general V [...]r [...]ue, with its lustre supplying the obscurity of many others, and quitting enormous Vices: For it hath been observed, that valiant Prince [...], be their private manners or publick go­vernments never so obnoxious, yet at worst, escape universal obloq [...]y.

And whereas the extreams of other Vertues in stead of improving their kindes, degenerate, only R [...]shn [...]s [...], which is but the transportation and fr [...]zy of the Valiant, if it be not secure from blame, is safe from reproach, and sub­j [...]ct to be no oth [...]rwise discommend [...]d, [Page 34] than the best and liveliest parts in Co­medies, when they are over-act [...]d in tone or gesture. Whilst it is fortunate, it is Canonized by the Vulgar, and ev [...]n wise men put on their spectacles to dis­cern it from its Vertue: Victory in its trouzes becomes a Giant, and men are as much taken wi [...]h its real exploits, as children with the tales of Garagantu [...] and Bevis: B [...]t if it sink with the weight of its enterprises, it is yet by some excused, by others pardoned, ge­nerally pitied; and since it seldome sur­vives its misfortune, it hath a stately Fu­neral, and Princely Dirges.

Most remarkable it is, that when Francis the first was defea [...]ed and taken prisoner at the siege of Paris, by him begun with more confidence than coun­sel, and continued with greater obsti­nacy than wisdome; yet in regard he had acquitted himself like a c [...]uragious Prince, many of his chiefest Gentlemen that escaped the slaughter, enamoured wi [...]h the beauty of so glorious a Capti­vity, though they might hav [...] fled, chose rather to go with their Prince to Mad­rid, [Page 35] than return with their liberty to Paris, willingly mistaking hi [...] prison for a flourishing Court: I commend not their Prudence; to languish with him was but a silly Relief, a treacherous Loialty to seal his Captivity with their own [...] neither do I allow of their mag­nanimity, for the truly stout only lament their losses in repairing them; But I admire their Devotion to Majestick Va­lour▪ in real duty exceeding the affec [...] ­tion of fond Lovers.

It is therefore great wisdome in Princes to build their Authority upon their Valour, as being a firm and popu­lar Basis, the fr [...]sh [...]st and most fragrant flower in their Garlands: Only they should consider, that rashnesse is but Al­chymy, and hath none but Vulgar and Imaginary honour, as loathsome as Knight Errandry. That as it produces sometimes the most notable Eff [...]cts, so it often meets with signal and fatal Af­fronts, yet with this scandalous diffe­rence, that it se [...]ms to owe its a [...]chieve­ments to Fortune, its miscarriages to Desert.

[Page 36]Upon the account of this giddy Ver­tue it wa [...], that Henry the Great of France went oft times himself upon the Forlorn Hop: To speak in the Duke of Parmas Language, he could not con­tent himself with the Dignity of a King and General, but aff [...]cted and usurped the Office of a Scout-master, and a Cap­tain of Light Horse, giving the arro­gancy of the Spaniards subject to scoff at him, and say, He did them much Honour in comming to view the Order of their Army, that he might learn how to range his own; He should rather have remembred that notable Epigram of his Predecessour, It is high time, said he, to quit this dangerous Post, and no longer upon these unequal terms to stake a double Henry against a Caro­lus.

Princes therefore may learn to bee good husbands of their Valour, to re­serve it only for honourable and im­portant Action, to avoid the cheap­nesse of picqueering, and making a little war, like the Tories and Bandit [...]; Unlesse they d [...]sire to imitate the [Page 37] fierce and ill-tempered youth of Seba­stian of Portugal, who observing a tempest, would usually put to Sea in a Shallop, that he might seem to daunt the Elements, and shew himself uncon­cerned, when even the Mariners them­selves were afraid. Whilst they need­lesly engage themselves amongst swords and shot, if t [...]ey enhaunce the reputa­tion of their courage, yet they wound the same of their wisdome; nay, they seem Valiant rather out of ignorance, than contempt of danger, and perhaps resemble (as extreams are apt to meet) the distressed Valour of a Coward, who is said to wink and fight. But if argu­ments from nature and discretion will not yet convince them, let them at least consider, that in their untimely deaths, all the designs of their projected great­nesse commonly vanish, their Garlands presently wither, their enemies insult, their heirs are oft exposed to a dang [...] ­rous non-age, and their Countries to a kind of Interregnum; For wise and vertuous Governours are the happy In­telligences of the world, and the per­sons [Page 38] of excellent Princes are the preci­ous stakes of Common-weal [...]hs.

WE are not sufficiently sensibl [...] how much we owe to the Histo­rian, who having no other end then the good of mankind, and innocent fame, hath by his noble industry furnished us with so many lively patterns of heroick Vertues, like baits to allure us, and with such eminent examples of Gods Justice, like Sea-marks to warn us; hath bestrid the Tombs of our Ancestours, and rescued their names from Oblivion and Dust; hath ex [...]lted flitting time to a kind of immortality, and digested barbarous Tradition into useful K [...]ow­led [...]e.

[Page 39]There is not a greater B [...]nefactour to true Knowledge, then the Historian, who doth not amuse us with Airy Notions, or feed us with tea [...]ms of Art, but di­rects us to the study of Men and Man­ners, affording us a Looking-glasse for our Actions to dresse them by, and [...]na­bling us to finde that wisdome in Books, which else perhaps we must purchase of dear Experience. Wee will therefore call a Historian Vertues Secretary, or the Worlds Recorder, and History it self we will define to be the Art or Fa­culty of Recording and Describing hu­man Actions and Affairs, with discreet Choice, with clear Integrity and perfect Knowledge.

First, with discreet Choice; for there must be in History a certain Prudence to discern what Actions or Affairs deserve Recording, wherein the information and instruction of the Reader is to bee our Aim and Compasse. It should not be li [...]e an abrupt Gazette, or Sea-mans Journal, it should not give way to the endl [...]sse impertinency of r [...]lating com­mon accidents in nature, the fondnesse [Page 40] of marking idle Prophecies, and childish Omens, nor the superstition of obser­ving Critical Events, or raising a grave and moral descant from a silly plain­song, these being the weeds that choak many of our fruitfullest Histories. And therefore here in we should imitate his Wisdome, ( Tacitus Annal. l. 3.) that determined to passe by all such actions as were not notable either for Honesty or Infamy, as knowing, the end of writing Histories to be, That our Vertues may survive our Persons; and that wicked m [...]n may stand in some aw, if not o [...] present times, yet of posterity, especi­ally the great and eminent, who perhaps might use History in stead of Astrology, to read their own Fortunes.

2. With clear Integrity; For a Hi­storian ought, of all men, to be sincere and unbyass [...]d, since his works are de­signed for future Age [...], who wanting o­ther means of information, must take his single testimony for undoubted Truth. A little falshood is enough to disguise and leven a large s [...]ory; and by reason of the Soveraign influence it hath [Page 41] upon human faith, the best of moral certainties give Reputation to those Er­rours which could not hope to receive the like countenance from any present Authority. We see in matters of Reli­gion, Errours have not so sure a Buckler as the corruption of Ecclesiastical story, for Heresie dreads the name of Innovati­on, but triumphs, if it have but colour, to vie Antiquity with Truth; Neither will Schism value to be cut off from the present Church, whilst it may pretend and boast its conformity with Primitive times. Historians therefore should be men of such presumed sincerity, that their bare assumptions may justly chal­len [...] belief. But, alas, how many of them are bribed into fulsome Panegy­ricks, awed into sordid Concealments, or exasperated into Libellous Invectives? It were not to be endured, if partial story did not, for the most part▪ carry its brand in its fore-head, whereby it passes not current without the grain of allowance, and is read with as much prejudice as it was written, to make the scales even.

3. Perfect Knowledge; For the [Page 42] vending of Rumour for History, is as bold a cheat as the selling of Copper or Alchymy for fine Silver; And indeed, it is injurious to expect that the Reader should take that for granted, which is but a non liquet to the Authour. To Knowledge are opposed Ignorance and Conjecture; Ignorance is an invincible defect, like natural lamenesse, or a dead palsie; Conjecture is many times but the Crutch of Ignorance, and like an eye of Glasse or Chrystal, yet sometimes it consists in wise Argument, and ratio­nal Inference, and so becomes a seaso­nable supplement to imperfect knowledg. Wherefore, [...]o long as it is probable and weighty, it deserves not to be wholly ex [...]l [...]ded, though not too frequently admitted.

History, as an Art, r [...]quires Method; And as an Art of R [...]gistry and Descrip­tion▪ it implies a Style: Method con­sists in p [...]rfect Chronology, and in a comely series of relati [...]g Affairs in their due time and order, so digesting, and dis-entangling the variety of the matter, that to the Readers eye it may be strait [Page 43] & transparent, rather like a good perspe­ctive, then a rude Land-skip. One thing must, like a Harbinger, make way for another; Counsel must precede Resolution, Resolution Action, and Action Event; That there be no pre­cipitating or interfering, and that great and wise Agents be not immediatly brought to handy stroaks, like Clowns in a Match at Cudgels: This is so ne­cess [...]ry, that without it the writing of History is no better then discord in Mu­sick, or the jangling of the Bells. Style consists in the Aptnesse of Connexion, Gravity of Compos [...]re, and Care of delivering matters with the same seri­ousn [...]sse and solemnity wherewith they were acted, free from the Incongruity or D [...]formity of common talk, the Gaudery of D [...]clamations, and Levity of Romancs.

Now if we examine our Historians by these severe limits, we shall scarce finde any so able, so diligent, or indeed so sincere; Since all must write, either of other Times and Countries, or of their own; If of their own, they are in dan­ger [Page 44] to prove, not Historians, but P [...]n­sioners, and Male-contents; They ei­ther will not or dare not write all truth, or, at least, not all the truth: If of o­thers, they are exposed to so much dark­nesse, and want of fitting materials, a [...] no Wisdome or Dexterity can supply, whil [...]t they borrow their Truth from Tradition, and their Intelligence from rumour; well may they quest aloud, but can have no clear sent at so great a di­stance.

But perfection is no where to b [...] found, neither in our Vertues, nor Arts; And therefore if Historians be charged with Imperfection, they may well answer, that their Defects are not greater then those of Philos [...]phers, School-men, Lawyers, and o [...]her fa­mous Professours, who yet passe current amongst us, and look bigge; nay, they may alledge, that they are more exact then their subject (the lives and actions of men) deserves: For in them there is such irregularity of Manners, such shifting of Scenes, such interfering of Counsels, such a Chaos of Events, as [Page 45] would confound Ord [...]r, and puzzle e­ven Method it self to dis-entangle them, being fitter matter for Comoediane, then Historians, to be personated, then recorded.

Yet divers excellent Registers time hath produced, who pardoning them the Painters fault, of making the Picture, like indeed, but much fairer and handsomer then the face, may passe for sufficient Authours; And since, where the subject will not bear defining, a description serves the turn, These commendable Writers, Comparatis com­parandis, deserves to wear the name and badge of Historians.

Of these, Cornelius Tacitus seems to lead the Vann, though some have ima­gined him to differ from a Historian, as descant doth from plain-Song; He re­cites none but weighty matters, and those weightily; He peirces the Cabi­net like Lightning, and where he gives way to Conjecture, he doth it so wise­ly, that those who could never have made his discoveries, must yet consent to his Reasons: His style is as quick as [Page 46] thought, and his words not long eno [...]gh for his matter▪ 'Tis strange to s [...]e a History so truss [...]d up: His Concepti­ons keep pace with the mysteries of State, and subtilties of Court; nay, it is well, if he observe no more then was meant, and make not those times and persons more politick than they were. To read him understandingly, would make an exquisite States-man, if it did not fi [...]st req [...]ire a States-man, understan­dingly to read him. I know not whe­ther to prefer, his Annals, or Histories, since, in effect, they are both short Annals in brevity of Language, and both in fulness [...] of matter large H [...]stories.

Livy, though not so compact, is not of less [...] weight or depth; An Authour as full of Majesty as the Senate; so am­ple and copious, that to such as have read Livy, scarce any History or Affairs can be new: He d [...]livers the story of times, when Civility and Policy, both the Arts of War, and Laws of Peace, exceedingly fl [...]r [...]sh d. And truly they have lost nothing by his Recording; If he seem a little partial or fond of his [Page 47] subject, pardon and impute it to the love of his Country, which indeed a­bounded with persons, for Vertue so e­minent, that some degree of flattery seems even justifiable in their behalf, neither could they be worthily com­mended, without a kind of Hyper­bole.

Caesars Commentaries are as a Gram­mar for souldiers; With so much judg­m [...]nt he gives an account of his own Expeditions, that it were almost as easie to imitate his Sword as his Pen; with such modesty and wise ingenuity he re­lates his own great Actions (alwayes speaking in the third person) that his Reader findes those Vertues and Abili­ties in him, which himself would seem to sl [...]ight and cover, as with a Mask, not willing to be the Trumpetter o [...] his own fame. This is a hist [...]y indeed, as pure as the Fountain, nothing of lamenesse or disguiz [...] in it; for the materials were such as needed no ornament, but only good adjustment; and therefore the A [...]thour so [...]ght no o [...]her Eloquence, then Simpli­city, no beauty, but naked tru [...]h, which [Page 48] was ready at his hand, being, without other information, wholly derived from his own breast.

Sall [...]st treads fast upon their heels; His weighty Argument and composed Style resemble a still stream in a deep Chanel, and shew, to what perfection the Art of writing was grown in his Age.

To forget Plutarch, were to affront Vertue, his choice of excellent Theme [...] his Characters of noble persons, whereby he hath even Canonized them, his wise and accurate comparisons of Graecian and Roman Worthies, equallize him with the best Writers. As none that converses with the Stoicks, can conti­nue an Epicure, so neither can any, not void of Ingenuity, read the life of Cat [...] in Plutarch, without being transformed into that Idea. He that will know much History with little study▪ let him turn to Plutarch.

Florus is so trim an Epitomist, that it is pity he wrote not more, or more largely; For Ann [...]ls are but Pigmy-Hi­stories, and render us rather not igno­rant, [Page 49] then intelligent; their chief use is, to read them before History, as Prepa­ratives, or after History, as Recapitulati­ons; but the pleasure is more then the profit, they being rather Land-skip [...], then Mapps.

Amongst modern Authours, Philip de Commines is famous; His Memoires are so exact, and withall so natural, that it appears, he was a great Agent in the af­faires he treats of; Truth and Ingenuity are so much beholden to h [...]m, that he seems more tender to them, then to his own honour; for in discovering the po­licies then used, he makes himself a kind of Interloper, and leaves the Reader to judge, whether he served C [...]arls or Lewis more faithfully.

The History of the Council of Trent cannot be enough extolled, for judge­ment. learning, and moderation; It is as straight as the flight of Arrows▪ as trans­parent as the light: This Authour, whilst he only recites, confutes, and hath the Vigour of a Satyre, without the Spleen or Aggravation; The Pope cannot justly accuse, yet will never absolve him; [Page 50] for to some persons, nothing is so terri­ble, or offensive, as truth.

Thuanus is as an Atlas of History; so orderly, and withall so large, that his in­dustry and vast intelligence would passe for a miracle, if it did not appear, that where it was needful, he wisely supplied his own defects, by calling in forein ayd.

What Encomium can I give to D' Avi­la? who in his notable History of the Civil Warres of France, hath done so much right, both to Italians and French­men; To those by his [...]minent Ability, to these by his singular exactness and Fi­delity; Others find enough to do, in re­presenting the affairs of their own Countries, to dive into forein interests, is indeed a work, which deserves the activity of a Trans-Alpine wit.

I know, I have passed by very many Authours, of no lesse worth, then those I mention; but to treat of them all, were to write a History my self: I once more conclude, we ought to enshrine the memories of such Hi [...]torians.

AMongst the many miscarriages of our times, there seems not to be a­ny of greater importance, then the er­rours committed in the Education of Youth; which yet, having taken root by Custom, are hard to be removed. If we understood the value of good Educati­on, what Vices it prevents, what Man­ners it plants, Parents would not be so indifferent in the discharge of a duty, which imports their Children more, then all the fortunes they can leave them.

There is no nature so fierce, no not that of wild Beasts, but it may be tamed, if endeavoured in Youth; no inclinati­on so violent, but it may be checked, be­fore it take head, and be fortified with habit, all vices being yet as curable, as flesh wounds, whilst they are green; but as we grow old, our faults learn to pre­scribe; [Page 52] then if the Parent reproves, he is answered with snarling and resistance, if the friend go to perrwade, he makes himself an enemy. The Ghostly Father hath a fine time to wear out his lungs with invectives. Alas, good precepts work upon well-disposed minds; but a vicious person is a prejudicate Auditor, and hath so sick a palate, that he can re­lish nothing that is good or wholsom: One early and seasonable reproof shall prevent, what a hundred Sermons can­not reform, When men have contracted so much rust, that they are past all reme­dies, but the Law, And, indeed, are fitter to be made examples, then hear pre­cepts.

But not to shoot at random, the er­rours, I observe in our vulgar breeding, are these.

First, I conceive, in outward accom­plishments, we study too early and gree­dily to advance our Youth, and, by such out-sides, they commonly are valued; but, as for just and sober principles, the love of Vertue, and restraints of Consci­ence, these goodly and fruitful plants we [Page 53] neglect to cherish in them; Hence it hap­pens, that our best hopes are freedom from enormous [...] vices, and a kind of fe­male [...] but the foot steps of that masculine worth, which was in our An­cestors, are even worn out, we have little Nobility left us, save that of the pedi­gree, neither are the seeds of knowledge so [...]ertile in a [...], as in many He [...]thens, who lived by the light of Reason, and princi­pl [...]s of Philosophy.

Some indeed there are, that judici­ously observe the diff [...]rence, betwixt a sure foundation, and a curious paper-building, or painted Balconey [...], but then, perhaps, they either think, by flacking the reigns of Authority, to decoy and flatter their youth into Duty, or else, by an over-austerity, will needs precipitat [...] it into perfection, and cut down tall Vi­ces, like great Trees, with one stroak of the Hatchet, or make Vertues spring, like Mandrakes; both of these are erroneous, for Vertue is the issue of Discipline and Time.

Our Education, in respect of Arts & Professions, seems much like the metho­dical [Page 54] Travels of the Germans in France, which they say, consists in riding a cer­tain tour or Circuit. For first, Chil­dren are put to school at a venture, where they are exposed to the fury of Pedants, and like Galley-slaves, con­demned to the Oar, till dull experience proves them unfit for learning, and per­haps renders them uncapable of other course. When they have learned to con­strue Latine, though possibly, not to un­derstand it, they are either directed to some Trade, wherein that little which they have learned is useless, and soon forgotten; or else they are sent to Uni­versities, Innes of Court, and beyond the Se [...]s, there to surfeit as fatally of liberty. as starved stomacks do of plenty. Thus [...]kipping all degrees & methods, of Chil­dren, they become men at a stride; And it is well, if they prove not Senators.

I know it is easie sometimes for fools to censure, what the wis [...]st men can hardly reform. And withall I am not ignorant, that much hath been written upon this subject, and by m [...]n whose wits and abilities, I dare not so much as [Page 55] emulate; yet in a matter of so great and publick importance, I hope, I shall not be too severely blamed, if I adventure likewise in a short Essay, to offer some expedients of redress, to those many mischiefs, which proceed from errone­ous Education.

First then, as the Husband-man with much observation proves the nature of the soyle, before he resolve what grain he will commit unto it, And as the Ar­chitector d [...]signes several sorts of wood, for several uses in building: so let not Parents destine their Children to cour­ses, without a diligent sc [...]utiny and ex­amination of their Genius. Like some z [...]alous, or covetous Catholicks, who, before their innocent Daughters know what belongs to a vow, bury them, as it were, alive, in Monasteries. Experience daily teaches us, that such as are not apt for liberal Arts, yet many times prove a­ble M [...]rchants or mechanicks, And those, that would never be spruce Courtiers, prov [...] dogged Swisses. An aspiring Geni­us will contemn mean Professions, airy souls were not designed for sedentary [Page 56] employments, nor excess of melancholy for action; He may prove an excellent Mathematician, that would never be good Lawyer, for that depends upon the strength of Imagination, this of Reason. Great Logicians are oft times but ill O­rators; For the one requires a strong, the other a fine and Courtly wit; some have solid judgememt, some vast memory, some excel in elocution, some in dexte­rity of the Pen, some have quickness of dispatch, some invincible industry. Every Creature is said to have its peculiar vertue, in some kind or other; but the vast bulk of learning, and general abilities, are not to be grasped at, save by such wits, as are almost as rare as the Phoenix or Vnicorn.

Secondly, therefore, let every Genius be directed solely or chiefly to those stu­dies and imployments, to which nature first designed them; for that eye which is intent and fixed, sees clearly, whereas variety of objects dazzles; That water, running in one great Chanel, makes a navigable River, which being divided into little streams, they all prove no bet­ter [Page 57] then ditches. I conceive, if this Rule were practised, Youth would not be so routed and defeated in what they under­take, as now they are, whilst they at­tempt those Arts and Sciences, which are both for quantity too vast, and for quality, improper for them, like Horse­men, commanded forthy to win passes, and take sconces. Whatsoever the sto­mack digests not, proves but crudity; and variety of imperfect notions, serves only to puffe men up with arrogance, and ostentation, and produces at best but learned ignorance, or confident errours. Whereas by this means, every one would thrive in his way, and the Common­wealth of Learning, which consists in perfect societies of all Arts, would ex­ceedingly flourish. The Jesuites, chiefly by pursuing this wise and accurate me­thod, have advanced literature, enlar­ged their own same, and [...]xalted their Colledges, to the envy of all Universities.

Thirdly, let not superficial Orna­ments be so much regarded, as solid foundations, and let not the substance be placed in those things, which were [Page 58] meant only for glosses and shadows. For though all accōplishments may be com­mended and desired, yet not all equally, nor alike in all. It were methinks, but vain ambition in a Gentleman, that should strive to excel th [...] Danoing master, in exactness of Dan [...]ing; or the Va [...]ing School [...], in a [...]tivity of body; wher [...]in, if by his indiscreet diligence, and long practice, he should arrive at perf [...]ction, he were yet in danger, sometimes to re­semble Nero, descending from the impe­rial Throne, to play his part in a consort of Musick, and expecting the applause of the people, for his well singing upon the Stage. The Spartans were so sev [...]re in their Philosophy, that they rejected ma­ny of those Arts, which are so precious in our times, as the Canke [...]s of Vertue, and underminers of Liberty, framing mens minds, rather to the pomp of vici­ous pleasures, then the simplicity of ver­tuous exercises. Their censure herein may perhaps be too rigid, yet we should remember the debt we owe to publick, and to posterity, and not resemble our Virginia Planters, whose poverty forces [Page 59] them to plant nothing but Tobacco and other Commodities of present vent; we should use a more excellent Husban­dry, like those that bend their designes to set up manufactures, to settle Trade, to establish policy, and turn a Colony in [...]o a Common-wealth, by such well-grounded and durable Arts, that future times may reap the ben [...]fit of our indu­stry We should therefore prize vertue and innocency in youth, far above all outward Ornaments, and eve [...] above learning it self; for a Common-wealth hath much more need of honest, then wise Citizens, and one good man is worth a Myriade of great wits.

Fourthly, We should endeavour to season Youth with Ingenuity, and stir up the seeds of emulation, that they may no longer act like prest Souldiers, but Vo­lunteers. That duty may be their de­light, and knowledge the subject of their pride; incentives far more power­ful, than terrour or restraint; for what can probably be expected from those that go to school, as if they went to Bridewell, and at best, love book [...] no [Page 60] better then a Turn-spit doth his Wheel?

Fiftly, There should be a North-west pas­sage found, for the attaining of the La­tine Tongue, that we need not use such a tedious ambages, as is, in effect, more barbarous, then the tying of the Horses tail to the Plough; nor instead of a journey, which might be dispatched in few dayes, wander, like the Children of Israel, forty years in the Wilderness. For in learning Language, which yet is but the gate or avenue of art & knowledg, we not only lavish our time, but waste that stock of industry, which nature indued us with, for higher and nobler designes; so as being harrassed with this drudge­ry, we have little vigour left us to at­tempt Philosophy or humane Learning. And let no man object, that our early years are not capable of such improve­ments. For why should we doubt, but that Mathematicks, History, and even mo­rality, in some degree, may be insinuated to us very young, since Children are so soon put [...] make use of Invention, their strong [...]st fac [...]l [...]y, and which, indeed, as [Page 61] yet is but too slender and barren? Half that time and diligence which they trifle away in Epistles and Themes, (ex­ercises, miserably patched up of childish matter, and stollen phrases) would yield another manner of fruit, if it were im­ployed in translating to and fro, the best moral Authours, whereby not one­ly the Language would soon grow fa­miliar, but the stile would imprint it self, and perhaps, the spirit and Idea re­main with them. Neither do I see, why they should converse so much with the poets at that Age, when they read them, with so much difficulty, and so little re­lish, unless there be a design, in perplex­ing the Scholar, to amuse his Parents. and lengthen the employment. As for Greek, though it seemes to be in some proportion necessary to the perfection of the Latine Tongue, yet I am sure, to ma­ny that learn it, it is of little use, espe­cially being taught as it is, by halves, as if it were learned on purpose to be for­gotten. Certainly, were the Rules of the Latine Tongue discreetly abridged, and no other Language spoken in publick [Page 62] Schools, it could not require much more time or industry, then the F [...]ench and other Tongues, which commonly cost those that are least pregnant, no more to gain, even the perfect speech of them, then the leasure or passe-time of two or three years.

Sixthly, The learned and able Pro­fessors of Arts and Sciences, should en­devour to render them more clear and Mathematical, by vindicating them from many of those uncertainties and intrica­cies wherewith they are now entangled, that our knowledge be no longer buil [...] upon such Hypotheses, as are more easily admitted, then consented to or proved; so that m [...]ny of our found [...]tions being blown away with one blast of denial, we are as far to seek, [...]s if we had n [...]ver stu­di [...]d, And being once beaten from A­ristotle, stand as mute, as an ignorant Ca­tholick would do, if he could be driven from his impregnable Citadel the Church. Why should Scholars in dis­putation, give such false fire, wrangle a­bout meer notions, and fight with their own shadows? why should Sciences be [Page 63] encumbered with such a throng of di­stinctions, wher [...]by Sophistry is main­tained, and truth concealed, like a true Diamond, in a heap of counterfeit Jew­el [...]? why should we acquiesce in Au­thori [...]y, which, though most necessary to Law and Gospel, is the bane of Arts, and a ne plus ultra to knowledge? Some I confess, have very auspiciously begun a Reformation in this behalf; but it is in the embrio, and will require a Colledge of the most learned to finish it; indeed it is almost like the translation of the Bible, work fitter for national Synods, the private men.

S [...]venthly, Those p [...]rsons to whose direction and conduct youth is commit­ted, should not be taken at random, but with the same prudence and choice, wherewith we elect our Magistrates or Delegates; their profession should not be made the last refuge of such men, as de­spair, or are bafled in better prefer­ments, but should be accounted▪ as in­deed it is, most honourable. And the [...] should know, how much, both th [...] pr [...] ­sent age expects from their Fidelity, and [Page 64] future times from their Vertue, as well by due regard to their persons, as encou­ragement of their labours; but, alas, our Age so abounds in loathsom pedantry, that as the contempt of the Calling dis­courages many worthy men from pro­fessing it, so the contemptibleness of the [...]ersons, yet brings the Calling into greater contempt.

Lastly, There should not be wanting encouragements and rewards, proporti­onable to the number and merits of [...]arned and excellent men, And wise Governours should study to distribute them, not by chance, but true desert: The end of planting Nurseries, is seasonably to convert them into Orchards, other­wise the Planter is commonly a loser by them. Where therefore there is no re­compence expected, men will rather content themselves with easie and thrif­ty ignorance, And he will in time be a learned Priest, that hath his breviary by heart. Hence, I fear, it partly happens That such amongst us as have free for­tunes, and can live of their own, account themselves, [...]s justly exempt from study, [Page 65] and ingenious industry, as in some Countries Gentlemen are from paying Taxes: for all our Vertues are fostered by necessity, or fed with expectation; no knowledge or excellency is without its arrogancy and ambition, which renders it impatient to be hearded with the vulgar, being conscious of its own de­sert. That wise Emperour Charls the fifth, in his excellent Legacy of politick instructions to his Son Philip, advising him to purchase the service of able men, at any rates, tells him, he must by all means seek them out; for as their Ver­tue teaches them Modesty, so even that Modesty hath its Pride, and looks that Preferment should court it. Indeed the want of seasonable and convenient ad­vancements, for great wits and spirits, drives them oft times to seek it by indi­rect means, and possibly hath been the hidden spark, that hath in all ages, kind­led notable flames in the world.

I Confess, I am not of the humour of the age I live in, which takes it for granted, that such as travel not, have scarce lib [...]al education, so that their lameness can be no way supplied or out▪ grown. I conceive, Wisdom to be none of those Merchandises, for which we trafick only in far Countries, nor do I take good manners to be of so vast a b [...]lk, that they require the fraught of a Ship or Bark; If change of Climates and Meridians were sufficient alone to produce those excellencies we aime a [...], what abilities might we not exp [...]ct in our publick M [...]ssengers, and weekly Posts? certainly, there are as wise men, and every way as accompl [...]shed, that ne­ver fo [...]sook their native Countries, as [Page 67] those that have traversed the known world.

I rather incline to their Stoical opini­on, who believe, that notwithstanding those goodly glosses and appearances, which fond Custom hath put upon this method of breeding, yet the goodness of the fruit scarce answers the fairness of its blossoms, but that, on the contrary, it is the Sep-mother of Learning, the Im­posture of Vertue, and a vast prodigality of Time; for it is observable of many novices, when they travel, that at best they do but spend their curiosity, in ga­zing upon sensible Objects, Towns, Pa­laces, Bridges, and the like, as if they were only sent for silly spies, to view the situation of the [...]ountry.

B [...]t since the prejudice of times in this behalf is such, that to disp [...]te a­gainst it, is in danger to be accounted, rather Heresie then good Philosophy, I will endeavour to offer some prepara­tives by way of caution, that Youth may travel with more benefit, or lesse mis­chief.

Let then the grounds of true Religion [Page 68] be first imprinted in early Youth, with such lively Characters, as will not easi­ly be defaced, for Travellers seldom meet with those that catechise th [...]m; many objects indeed they shall have to distract, and alienate, but few or none to perswade, or encourage them, in pious duties; so that if they have not a stock, to subsist in time of dear [...]h, they may soon perish, being so remote from th [...] nurture of Parents, and destitute of friendly admonitions, in Countri [...]s [...] where a different worship being establsh­ed, they are constrained either to for­sake, their Religion, or forget their piety.

Let them have civil and liberal Edu­cation, to shame neither their friends, nor themselves, for else they will seem to travel, like Barbarians into Greece, not so much to learn the Arts and Orna­ments of other Countries, as to discover the Nakednesse of their own.

Let them be untainted with Vices, which in travelling increase like snow­balls. Above all, let them be armed with Temperance, and free from the habit of Wine-bibbing, else the novelty of deli­cious [Page 69] fruits and pleasant Wines in Sou­thern Climates, will debauch them, to the hazard of their health and wits; and for reputation, make them seem swine in the eyes of such civil and well-governed people, as those amongst whom they shall live; neither will any caution pre­serve them vertuous, where Incontinen­cy is boldly profest, and Lust is become, not a Custom only, but a Diet.

Let them be endued with under­standing, and natural parts, at least more th [...]n vulgar; for travelling is a Trade, not to be set up, nor driven, without a reasonable stock, neither do we endea­vour to enamel or polish the common Flint, but reserve our labour for Metalls and Jewels, as only worthy of such Art.

Let them be competently furnished with humane learning, and at least ma­triculated in Philosophy; for though travelling may perhaps build, yet cer­tainly it layes no foundations: There are methods and degrees of breeding; And no man ever at once vaulted into per­fection. The knowledge of termes, and things, must, in good order, precede the [Page 70] study of men, else it will resemble those that learn Languages, only by the eare, without Rules, who may, indeed, speak intelligibly, but scarce elegantly, and their want of Orthography shall alwayes discover their lameness.

Let them not be so much strangers to Story and Mapps, that when they first see France, they shall think, they discover America, and be so surpris'd with the novelty of objects, as if they saw not men but theaters, and when they changed stations, sifted scenes; for then their time will be wasted in vain amusements, and they will not have travelled, but dream't, As Children when they first come to London, are lost in the street [...], As meere Country people admire the gaudy signes before every shop, and are in France, when they see West­minster or the Exchange.

Let them stay, till they have gotten some habit of discretion, and experi­ence in conversation; for they must know how to stand upon their Guard, and support themselves; they can relie upon no mans tenderness, to consider [Page 71] their youth, and pardon the errours of Child-hood. All their blots will be hit, all their forfeitures will be taken, since to men of prudent behaviour, it is commonly a great priviledge to be strangers, but to indiscreet persons, a greater prejudice.

Let them, (if possible) be perfect Lati­nists, not only for pen, but speech, for that, in travelling, is as current coine in Trade, and somewhat more necessary, in this respect, that it cannot so readily be supplied by way of Barter; The Load­stone hath made all the world, in effect, one continent, and the Latine Tongue ciments, at least, all the learned world, as it were, into one Nation. Without it, Travellers are, for some time, such silly mutes, that it rests in the Companies charity, to think that they have Rea­son.

These are the principal cautions, which readily offer themselves unto me, and which I recommend to all young Travellers: from these they may expect much security and benefit; Yet, since we first learn to swim with Corks and [Page 72] Bladders, And it seems, too unsafe, to trust so unfixed an age, only to its own conduct, methinks a provident Fa­ther should not easily be drawn to ven­ture his Son abroad, without a discreet Tutor or Governour, who is so needful to supply the Authority of a Parent, and the familiarity and assistance of a friend, that the best that can be found, is to be purchased at any Rates; I will there­fore briefly describe, what such a Go­vernour, either is, or should be; some qualities and conditions in him are ab­solutely necessary, others very expedi­ent.

Necessary is sobriety of life and man­ners, to give his Pupil none, but good example, which will add vigour to all his Counsels and reproofs; Prudence, to sit like a wary Pylot at the Helm, and foresee inconveniences, before they fall; Urbanity and gentleness of speech and behaviour, to be the ha [...]binger of per­swasion; for counsels roughly given, are received with prejudice. And lastly, Gravity to preserve and redeem (if need be) both his Person and Office from [Page 73] contempt or neglect; very expedient is abundance of learning, especially hu­mane, that, daily insinuating the best no­tions, by way of discourse, his conver­sation may at once unite the pleasure of entertainment, with the benefit of an Academy; An Age not superannuated, nor much unequal to that of his Pupil, lest it deprive him of that diligence, or complaisance, which belongs to his Of­fice; Decent and manly behaviour, be­cause his Scholar will be apt to imitate him; To have travelled himself before, That he may instruct his Pupil from his own experience, And being skilful in Languages, supply his defects.

To travelling, especially so attended, belongs a plentiful and honourable al­lowance of expence, without which, we do but travel on foot, and in Quirpo. Indeed, too much expence is the Mother of idleness, vanity, and folly; But discreet plenty should be afforded to every one that pretends to travel for his advantage, that he may keep pace with Gentlemen, and men of parts, may be in an Equipage, capable of their acquaintance and civili­ties [Page 74] and not confined to Chambre Garnie, or a poor Pe [...]sion, where he shall proba­bly converse with none, but persons ig­norant of good manners, and of all things which a Traveller should be most ambitious to know or learn; For young men are supposed to travel, not that they may save mony, but gain knowledge; If they be sent forth without competent maintenance, This is not to travel, but shift, which they would better do in their own Country, than in forein parts; where their hands are bound, and their tongues tied, having neither language nor credit to help themselves. Money is to Travellers, as Wings to Birds, they have no other friend, or passe-port, nothing else that can recommend or address them to society; for they must buy their acquiantance, almost, as they do that which they eat or wear, and by discreet prodigality, woe acceptance, since they are not welcom upon ordinary terms, And whosoever lodges a stranger, makes account he hath a booty, where­in, though the wary and prudent fru­strate their expectation, yet they cannot [Page 75] prevent their hopes, nor alter their pre­judices.

Thus furnished and qualified, young men may, indeed, travel the more safely, perhaps profitably; otherwise to send them abroad, at least without many of these furtherances and cautions, is to employ them upon a very hazardous, but unprofi [...]able adventure, and too much resembles the exposing of Infants, to be nursed, like Romulus, by Wolves and Bears.

HOw little do they understand the nature of true Piety, that cannot distinguish the terrours of Sinful guilt, from the just apprehensions of a Religi­ous soul, but look upon fear, as the fatal Omen of an evil conscience▪ which is the only symptome of spiritual life? The Chirurgion having no other proof, that [Page 76] the cure is not desperate, then quickness of sense.

There is a confidence, grounded upon the precipitated admission of those things for certain truths▪ the soundness whereof we are afraid to examine: Hap­py are they, that seasonably discover the rottenness of such foundations, and ap­ply themselves to lay sure ones. There is a faith, more d [...]bious then the Sect of the Scepticks, It will not believe its sen­ses, nor the Demonstrations of the Ma­thematicks; Experience gives it small satisfaction, because it as much sus­pects the experiment, as the thing expe­rimented: Such an uncertainty of Me­d [...]ums, such an Imperfection of Organs it imagines, that every Object seems to it a delusion. It s [...]lf least of all it trusts, knowing what an impostor dwells in its own breast: And these cautions work so powerfully, that they render it inde­fatigable in the pursute of happiness. So that this fear, (though sometimes it may seem to fight with its own shadow) is a safe and fruitful fear, recompensing the Anxieties of a moment, with eternal security.

[Page 77]But say some▪ We ought to rest only upon the love of God; We, that are E­lect and redeemed Fear we leave for Reprobates, who having no sense of Gods love to them, receive no impressi­ons, but those of terrour, and are like sl [...]ves, condemned, as it were, to the Galleys of Fear. An Argument, cer­tainly full of sweetness, If it did not tend wholly to undermine duty, and re­duce the Power of Religion into Airy Speculation; If it did not teach men to be so unmannerly at their Devotions, that their Prayers prove commonly but contempts: should the Heathen, (who profoundly adore the workmanship of their own hands,) see their Irreverence, They would with some colour be apt to confirm themselves in their Idolatrous surmise, That it is better to have visible, than invisible Deities.

Fear is as a bridle to the Conscience; That soul which hath no fear, is like a Ship, that carries all it sayles, but hath no ballasts, If it could escape over-setting in the Sea, yet it is sure to split upon the Rocks: We do not more need the zeal [Page 78] of generous Love, then the caution of well advised Fear.

I acknowledge those Acts of Piety to be the most excellent, that proceed pure­ly from the Ingenuity of love; But these are certainly the least for number, The greatest are such, as derive themselves from a principle, mixt of necessity and choice. Love indeed makes the purest Holocausts, yet are not the Sacrifices of innocent fear to be undervalued; I am perswaded, Fear hath resisted, as many, and as strong temptations, as Love.

But who is so Chymical▪ that he can extract, who so Metaphysical, that he can abstract love from fear? Fear is as the Lees of Love, which it can never work out in this life, nor will it ever be pur­ged of those Crudities, till it ferment in­to perfect Charity. Love is no bondage indeed, but a non-age it is, and a filiati­on, which for the present, differs little from the condition of a Servant.

A lively Emblem of this truth, we shall find in friendship; What a Critick is it of words? What a searcher into thoughts? what a spie upon our actions, [Page 79] and manners? How doth every omission beget a kind of guilt? How are true friends more sensible and fearful of un­kindness then wounds, of giving then receiving? And this is the Estate of all Vertuous or real Amity; A relation, not­withstanding, which primâ facie, seems to consist wholly in Confidence.

A yet neerer, and more sublime Idea of our Love to God, is natural Consci­ence, That, by whose light and aid, Phi­losophers atchieved such Miracles of Vertue and self-conquest. What a Curb was this in the mouths of good Heathens? What a restraint, far beyond any sense of Honour, or fear of punish­ment? How did it suppress the passions, and smother the thoughts, that they durst not so much as dream extravagant­ly? And yet what society to good men, so sweet as solitude? He that is not clear in his own sight, where should he esta­blish his Confidence, where shall he con­tract a firm league? Howbeit this is cer­tain, that true Philosophy enjoynes every man, to be his own AEacus & Minos.

But that it may yet further appear, [Page 80] how love and fear are mixed and inter­woven, Every dayes experience pro­claims it; For whence comes the Misers love of his money, but from fear of po­verty? wherein consists the Enjoyment of health, but in security from sickness? And how could miserable life be so precious, even to unfortunate men, If they did not rather fear the approach of death, then love or relish those dregs of their lives?

Now therefore, since God is greater than our Consciences, more intimate than any friend, more precious than life, What an awe must we have of his pre­sence, what a horrour of his absence? What prostration to him can be ac­counted superstition? what Zeal, Will-worship? what ambition can we enter­tain, but that of humility? what emula­tion, but that of reverence? who can be morigerous enough in his duty, who cir­cumspect enough in his behaviour, what repentance is sufficient to pacifie, what prayers to intreat, what addresses to adore him?

What signifie those precepts of awe [Page 81] an reverence, so frequently repeated, as well in the Gospel, as under the Law? The numerous Catalogues of such, as with speedy vengeance have paid the forfeiture both of Impiety and sawcy De­votion? Those Characters of his wrath, with so much terrour recorded, unde [...] the notions of a jealous God, a consu­ming fire? What meant that transcen­dent Devotion of primitive Christians, which some (I presume, that they may not be obliged to imitate it) scarce commend? Their watchings and fast­ings? their self-revenge and violence done even to nature? What do they all teach us? but this, That God will be served with industrious fear, and not with lazy love?

But, if any yet seem to doubt, let him reflect upon himself, How he hath com­plied, not with the rigour of the Law, but the latitude of the Gospel; What he hath deserved at the hands of God, and what will certainly befall him, with­out an Ocean of mercy, He shall then find far greater ground of distrust, then of confidence, If not, yet let him not ac­quiesce [Page 82] in an insufficient triall, but rather suspect his experience, then deny so great a truth.

HE that compares the present Max­ims of some blind Z [...]lots, with the wisdom and moderation of ancient Lawes, will find it a strange Method, to root out Superstition by decrying Devo­tion, To prevent Heresie, by introducing an instability of Truths, and a bijearrery of Religions, to meet with will-wor­ship, in the Abolition of all Duty, and to batter Babylon by erecting Babel.

Certainly, our Age is not so regular, that it needs no restraint, Our manners are not so exact, that they will admit no censures, Our piety hath not so high a Calenture, that it had need lose so much blood: God preserve our Religi­on from a Lethargy, and a Consumpti­on, [Page 83] we shall deal well enough with the Pl [...]urisie.

Religion is like a curious Watch, soon out of frame, And Discipline is as the case that preserves it; Religion is like the Apple of the eye, tender and ob­noxious to every dust, And Discipline is as the eye-lid that shelters it.

I see not, why any should hate Disci­pline, but such as resolve to abuse their liberty; There is no enemy to Lawes, but the lawless, and such as think they have more interest in their punishments, than their protections, or hope, that in a general medley and Chaos of disorder, their evil manners will passe unre­proved, nay uncontroled, For what re­straint is left for those sins, which stand in awe, neither of justice nor shame?

Not of Justice, For how wickedly do many live, even to the reproach of that holy faith which they profess, and yet either satisfie, or delude the Law? How many sorts of Impieties are there, where­by Conscience is wasted? As legal, or subtle oppressions, secret malice, neg­lect of all good Duties, and even Aposta­cy [Page 84] it self, which yet de [...]ie publick Ju­stice, and can certainly fear nothing, but a Court of Admonition to reprove, and brand their Enormities. Justice cannot take hold of them, without such extreme rigours, as will in its execution expose it to Arbitrary Power, and make it rather a snare to Innocency, then re­straints of mischief. Not of shame, For in a general disorder, none is censured, And whilst every one is scandalous, no man is scandalized.

The sarcedotal, and Apostolical Offi­ces indeed, are ceased, But the Evangeli­call function still survives, Nor are those ordinary jurisdictions lost, which the A­postles held, not as Apostles, but Bishops, whereof none ever seemed to have so much need, as this latter and perillous Age, which is prophetically entituled to such a Catalogue of enormous sins, as the simplicity of primitive times was scarcely acquainted with: We are in­deed to expect no miracles, But shall vve submit to no Government? because vve cannot have Moses, shall vve admit of no Magistrates?

[Page 85]Long lay the primitive Christians un­der the grievous yoak of Heathenish Ty­ranny, enjoying neither toleration, nor connivence; They had then no Lawes, but of their own admission, No Governours, but of their own permission; They lived rather by Examples then Lawes: It was then but necessary, there should be ex­traordinary, to supply the defect of or­dinary powers; Now that Christians are our Magistrates, It may justly be ex­pected, that what was planted by Mira­cles, should be cherished by Lawes: But no persecuted Church can be in so de­plorable a condition, as that which wants Apostles, and rejects Pastors.

The Church is not so limited to forms and methods, but that she hath still a latitude left her to act according to her Emergent necessities, and frame to her self such constitutions, as self-preser­vation requires, and the example of all societies will justifie; I cannot see, why civil property should be secured and em­paled with the best Lawes, that wisdom and experience can devise, And yet Christs Vineyard should be left without a hedge, The Army of Martyrs like dis­banded [Page 86] Troops, and Christians like a multitude of people, that hath entred into no society.

B [...]t perhaps the Magistrate is jealous of his Soveraignty, And fears, lest the spiritual jurisdiction should reign in mens hearts, to the supplanting of secu­lar O [...]edience; I confess, this fear is not wholly void of colour, yet is it not a just fear; For Church-Discipline is in it self so innocent and passive, that it seems too wise a Providence, wholly to de­prive the Church of spiritual Arms, lest she should usurp temporall.

Truly, as the Civil Sword protects the Church, so again, the Church being armed with convenient Discipline, may add much force and vigour to the Civil Powers, and even protect its own Pro­tector; By planting in mens hearts the awe of Religion, which is the main pil­l [...]r of obedience; By advancing Vertue in those free habits which exceed meer D [...]ties, and prevent Justice with chari­ty; By weeding out such errours, as hu­mane Authority would have much adoe to pluck up, And checking those vices [Page 87] in their source, the course of whose tor­rent, Lawes are not able to oppose.

We admit indeed of a moderate sway, in matters purely Ecclesiastical, But we do not embrace their violent Coertions, that would seem to engrose all truth, and make it Heresie to doubt, where they define; That would [...]ain save Christ his pains in propagating or defending the Gospel. The true Church deals with shame, not with Tortures, with Cen­sures, not with Gibbets; The largest Power she pretends, is to sequester from her Communion; Now, if Schismaticks will allow themselves the Power of separating, when they please, why should they repine, if she banish from her society▪ such as even judge themselves unworthy of it? Wine will naturally sever it self from its lees.

M [...]thinks, They of all men, should not except against this gentle severity, who by not submitting to her Authority, seal their own banishment, It being a M [...]xim, to which, I pre [...]ume, none of them will dissent; That such as with­draw obedience, renounce protection; [Page 88] If therefore they desired her Communi­on, they should not so harden them­selves against her just and wholsom De­crees.

Wholsom Decrees, I call all such, as being either warranted, or not forbid­den in Scripture, tend either to the ad­vancement of Piety, the sole end of our Creation, or to the encrease of Charity, the band of Perfection; or to the Esta­blishment of Peace and Unity, without which, neither Charity, nor Piety can long subsist.

CAElibacy is a state of Abstinence, both from the unlawful and lawful Bed. From Continency it differs, For that is not properly a state of life, but a habit of the Mind; And again from Chastity, For that is not confined to [Page 89] abstince, but ex [...]ends to lawful and re­gular Use.

An Angelical Estate it is, And seems to share in honour with Martyrdom, Fo [...] it bids defiance to Lust, It plucks up A­varice and Ambition, by the Root; It is not content to obey the Commands of the Gospel, but pursues even its Counsels and intimations, And that it may not misse of happiness, aims at E­minency.

There is not a greater testimony of Pious Prudence [...] [...]For, whereas most men, by giving Hostages to the World, create to themselves such difficulties, that they must needs either fall dangerously, or stand doubtfully, The single man is like a Ship, which having no charge, but its ballast, sailes swiftly, and securely, in those Seas, where stronger Vess [...]ls, that are full fraught, hazard to founder and overset.

The Ancients esteemed no greater hinderance of heroick atchievements then Mariage, They thought, he could not serve his Country, as he ought, that must likewise serve a Family; but would [Page 90] alwayes float betwixt Vertue and Na­ture, and apply himself to publick Inte­rest, but by halves; Hence it was thought a Qu [...]stion worthy the Roman Senate, Whether a Proconsul, going to the Go­vernment of his Province, should be permitted to carry his Wife with him.

Howbeit, All cannot receive this Do­ctrine, only such, as have received from above the Power of receiving it: For Coelibacy suits with none but excellent Minds; such as compass it with vio­lence, and invade it [...]th the rashness of their Vowes, foil an [...] ensnare them­selves.

But far more pernicious is that licen­tious errour, or rather practice, that opposes Coelibacy only to Wedlock, al­lowing it the latitude of using any, but lawful freedom.

This is at once to frustrate and cancel both Coelibacy and Matrimony, To supplant the Remedy, and cherish the disease▪ It resembles the checking of a River, in its proper Chanel, to make a deluge, in the bordering Plains.

But let not our Age, (whose glory it [Page 91] is, to fight against Religion, with her own Arms) mistake this Argument, for a kind of universal dispensation; It is not easie [...]n [...]eed, yet possible; It is not neces­sary, yet very profitable; It is but a help to devotion, yet helps would not be sleighted, where all is but too little, and we can never be sure enough. No man is excused without trial, Neither can he answer it, to Vertue or Conscience, that might probably have obtained, if he had not neglected it.

B [...]t what talk I of helps to Devotion, or Perfection in Vertue? A Mediocrity will serve turn, A discreet Religion that can cut the thred, and just turn the s [...]ales; No plucking out of eyes, I be­seech you, no cutting off of hands, but a method of practical Divinity, as short and easie, as flesh and blood can con­trive; And good reason, For then at least, we are not in danger of will-wor­ship, the hideous bug-bear of so devou [...] and Orthodox an Age, as our [...].

HAving briefly treated of single Life, It remains now to take a survey of Conjugall. The first concerns few, and those esteemed but a kind of Anchorites, and looked upon as the Schismaticks of humane Society; The second is of a ge­neral extent, And whatsoever is said upon that subject, seems to touch Man­kind: Give me leave therefore to offer somewhat by way of Essay only (with­out Argument or reproof) in relation to Duties, so vast and publick as those of Matrimony; And let not any marvail, That being neither in Act, nor Contem­plation, as yet a Husband, I am so busie to thrust my self into the Charge, and instruct the maried; For I conceive, That as a third Party, uninteressed, I were the fitter, if need required, to interpose; However, since I undertake to state no [Page 93] Controversies, but deliver Truths, gene­rally received, and favourable alike to both sides, My forwardnesse in this kind, if it deserve no commendation, can pro­cure no just offence.

The Duties then betwixt man and wife are considered, as common to both, or peculiar and proper to either: common to both, And so they owe re­ciprocally, each to the other;

1 To make their Union an Act of prudent choice, not of chance, fondness, or meer Avarice; For it is no wonder that should miscarry, which was mis­conceived, Or that bitterness should be in the event, where folly was in the De­sign.

2 Communication of Vertuous know­ledge, and spiritual Commerce. We cannot but desire to promote the happi­ness of those we love, And that Passion should be so much the more fervent, by how much its end is more excellent; wherefore such as delight in each o­thers well-fare here on earth, cannot but far more earnestly covet to meet in Heaven.

[Page 95]3 Mutual Fidelity; For falshood of af­fection, dissolves the Bond of Matrimo­ny, And those that transgress the li­mits of lawful love, are already, before God, in a State of nullity; We may say of them, like St. Paul, upon another ac­count, They have apostated from the faith, and are worse then Infidels.

4 Quiet Conversation and compli­anc [...], without publick jarrs, or secret grudges; If any discords happen, yet they ought to be little & short, that by a sweet & ingenuous return of friendship, they may rather quicken, then discom­pose the Harmony▪

5 Communion and Constancy, in good and evil Fortunes; To joy and sorrow, thrive and wither, live and die together, since they are involved in each others sufferings, and have espoused, not persons only, but Conditions, even Af­flictions and Infirmities.

6 An intire affection to, and care of their common issue, whereby Conjugall love is increased and intended, like re­flected heat; Indeed, what greater re-en­forcement of affectio [...] can there be? since [Page 94] faithfull friends despair in any thing so lively to express or testifie their love and respect to deceased Parents, as in the en­dearment of their surviving Chil­dren.

Peculiar Duties are either of [...]he Man to his Wife, or the Woman to her Hus [...]band: The Husband owes his Wife.

1 By his freedom and Complaisance in her society, as much, as in him lies, to gratifie her just and kind expectati­ons, improve the comforts of her life, and sweeten her solitudes, lest she have cause to think her self in the condition of a Widow, even whilst she is maried; For since, whilst she was free, and might have refused, her love to his Person, bribed or swayed her, to submit to his yoak, He were very ungrateful to neglect her that chose him; If elective Princes oppress, they have no excuse, since they violate not only the Rights, but even the good will of their Electours.

2 Tend [...]rness to her errours, and a kind of equal jurisdiction, not assuming the Authority of a censoriou [...] Paeda­gogue, not p [...]tting her to the wrack of [Page 96] observancy, not expecting so much re­gard, as discreet VVives, of their own accord allow.

3 Confidence in her Vertue, and ho­nest freedom in her Actions and beha­viour; For jealousie is like a perpetuall alarm, Herein most unjust, That it bind [...] its Criminal to prove the Negative, And arraigns her for a Crime, whereof, being once charged, she can never purge her self.

4 Communication of Counsels and secrets, so far at least, as will consist with Justice to others, and by his own Pru­dence; For he that locks up his bosom from his Wife, especially in matters of Common Interest, questions her fidelity, or, at best, condemns her discretion.

5 An Equal use of temporal Blessings; Indeed a Wife is not like a Steward, or Receiver, Neither ought any Action of Accompt to lie against her, who sharing with her Husband in Wealth and Pover­ty, may not be presumed prodigal of her own Interest, and improvident for her Children.

6 A sober and careful Managery of [Page 97] his Estate, without sinful imbezelling, or sloathful impayring that Weal [...]h, which is but half his own; For what delight can there be in a declining fortune? What feeming fondness can repair suc [...] a reall injury? The VVife may well pit­ty or indulge, but cannot truly affect a Husband, from whose Luxury, she ap­prehends, or feels her own ruine; let him pretend what love he will, if she do no [...] distrust, she hath too much cause to dis­dain it. The VVife ows her Hus­band,

1 Serenity of undoubted Vertue, a­ble of it self to prevent suspition, or con­fute jealousie; And this indeed is rather presumed, then prescribed, [...]ince he that examines the Chastity of VVomen, [...]mpeaches it, And hath already strang­led their Innocency, before he have proved their Guilt.

2 Singular Modesty, and simplicity of behaviour, as the necessary Hand­maid of honour: For though, unchastity be the fouler sin, against God and her self, Yet the scandall of Impudence i [...] far the greater wrong to her Husband.

[Page 98]3 Sincere Love and endearement, the perfection of Matrimonial union; This would tame the roughest Satyre, and molli [...]ie the fiercest Scythian, This would reclaim the most dissolute, and wean the most extravagant; Where it prevails not, it is a signe there remains no trace of Vertue, or tincture of Ingenuity in that soul; In all traverses of fortun [...], or di­stempers of mind, this will teach her Husband, to court his ease and relief in her Company, and retire to her, as to a Sanctuary; No kindness will he think worthy of her kindness, No return equal to her merits; She shall reign in his af­f [...]ctions, as a perpetual Mistress.

4 If not a Confidence in his Prudence, Yet in most cases a submission to his Judgement, not disputing his Authori­ty, nor f [...]rcing him to assert it; For such Controversies are ever unseasonably moved, The power of Wives consisting in the generous love of their Husbands, who, if they be not barbarous, will even strain Compliance with them, And pre­venting their reasonable desires, will of their own Accord, know, That to insult [Page 99] over their Wives, is to unman them­selves.

5 Discretion, if need be, to keep se­crets; That by her Imbecillity, she force not her Husband, to the unhappy choyce of unkind reservedness, or indiscreet confidence, of standing in her behalf up­on his Guard, or betraying his own af­fairs and prudence.

And lastly, Frugality; whereby her Hu [...]band shall finde, that to trust her li­berally, is his best and most honourable thrift, And being encouraged by her approved Mesnage, securely refer his do­mestick Affaires to her Charge and Go­vernment.

I Have alwayes pittied the misfortune of the great and beautiful, whom ei­ther the fondness of Custom, the trea­chery [Page 100] of others, or their own imbecilli­ty, hath rendred so obnoxious to cheap and Mercenary Tongues, that they sel­dom hear tr [...]th form any but their Con­fessours; It seems, indeed, a kind of ho­mage to their Quality and S [...]xe; But the friendship of it resembles his favour that is strangled in silk.

Yet so sensual a Quality is Pride, that it had rather be smoothered in a Feather-B [...]d, then accept of hard Lodging, which would hurt its tender Limbs; It refus [...]s nothing that is pleasant, But the bitte [...] Potion will not down, The Pa­late disgusts it, the Stomack loaths it, and the Belly fears griping; Indeed, the manners of great Men are commonly so proud and ulcerate, that they will not endure the Probe, Their actions are like that virulent scab, which they call the Noli me tangere.

Truth agrees with none but the Inno­cent, And Reproof complies only with those, whose lives, (if they be not bl [...]meless) yet are not ripe and rank with scandall: They fear not the Cen­sures of others, that are Catoes to them­selves, [Page 101] And such have great reason to slight the Attestations of forein ap­plause, as have the satisfaction of a Witnesse without exception within them. The Birth of Flattery bears date from the Fall of Adam, It is our naked­ness, which this officious Vice would seem to hide with its charitable Fig-leaves; They are the wrinkles of ou [...] withered beauty, which require this se­dulous Hand-maid to help us lay on the fucus: When Women began to paint, Men were encouraged to cajole, And ever since Greatness hath declined to look day in the face, appearing only, like Masquer [...] in twi-light, Copper-lace hath been in fashion; Whils [...] Ladies were ver­tuou [...], plain-dealing was not rejected, as barbarous, And whilst Princes were upright, honest freedom was not pro­scribed as seditious; Parasites prove, of late, as necess [...]ry to them, as Cooks, their sins seeming to be but drie Venison, without the sawce of the Court.

And as gnats ever swarm in unwhol­som Ayres, so through the corruption of the times, are sycophants spawn [...]d and [Page 102] multiplied among us; Nay, They are become so busie and familiar, that the Traveller can scarce keep them out of his eyes; No Vertue or sagacity is free from their attempts, For like the Wolves in Germany, by daily preying upon Car­kasses, they come at last to venture upon living men, And have learned of Sathan, still to tempt, though with little hope of succes [...].

They find, no question, That, as we say of Towns and Forts, There is none, which may not be either wonne by As­sault, or taken by Approach, or reduced by Famine; so all men prove either so­luble or malleable to flattery; That not only Princes may be soothed in their Titles, Ladies in their Features, and Souldiers in their Exploits, But Philo­sophers in their goo [...]ly B [...]ards, Friers in their meritorious Cowles, and Prelates in their Reverend Miter [...].

It is true, That one address doth not [...]it them all; For, neither do we bait Salmons as we do Gudgeo [...]s, nor hunt the politick Fox, like the nimble Stagge; some can swallow a lump of down-right [Page 103] p [...]ayse, (which (as we say of hard and dri [...] Cheese) would choak the very Dawes) without mincing or chewing; O [...]hers will not endure to be courted in broad Scotch, nor scarce in good old British, Yet they cannot resist the Charms of Italian; For others, Language will not suffice, without the help of Arts and Sciences, The figures of Rhetorick, the gravity of Ethicks, the subtilty of the Schools, and Authority even of the Gospel, to serve them like Henry the first of France, reported to be poysoned with consecrated Wine.

Indeed Flattery is no Profession for the unlearned, Novices must not think to practise upon this Scene, nor Asses to tune this Harp; For grosse commenda­tion is like Sugar unrefined, fitter for Clysters, than Sawces, And loud Pane­gyricks are alwayes either despised, or susp [...]cted; Tiberius, as he feared plain­dealing, so he hated broad flattery, And when Dolabella mooved, That he might be received in triumph, at his return from Campania, deeply resented the bit­terness of the scoff; So jealous are the [Page 104] guilty, And so difficult it is to flatter those, that censure themselves.

Sycophants therefore, if they would not run the hazard of infamous discove­ry, must understand not only Languages and Arts, but Passions, Prejudices, and (as they speak at Court) blind sides, (in one word) Persons; (A precious and pious Quality indeed, that diverts us from contemplating and lamenting our own foul sins, to study and serve the ex­ecrable Vices of other men) They will not therefore content themselves with specificial knowledge, but descend to individu [...]ms, They prie, and seek o [...]t the Vain, to sooth them, The Ulcers of Discontent, to rub and exasperate them, The Coals of Faction, to blow them, The greedy and Covetous, to tempt and feed them, The Ambitious, to inflame them; They find compliance for the humorous and Froward, Faith for Travellers, Pro­stration for Insolency, and a fools Pa­radice for Self-love; They must know how to stalk with the glory and confi­dence of Cethegus, the flegme of Lentulus, the pedigree of Cornelius, the reproach [Page 105] of Autronius, and the necessities of Pis [...]; For I take Flattery not to be that com­mon and harmless faculty of good Lan­guage and plausible address, But a Dia­bolical A [...]t of holding Intelligence with natural corruption, and accomodating it self to our Vices, whatsoever they be.

Certainly, as it is said of com [...]on lyers, That they had need have vast me­mories; so much more may we affirm of the busie Flatterer, That he deserves not only a peircing wit, a demure cari­age, and a tongue that never stammers, But browes of brasse, and cheeks that have forgotten to blush; The temper of a Sto [...]ck, The patience of a Mule, The feet of a fawning Spagnel, and knees of an humble Camel, The Religion of a meer Politick, and no more soul, than a bare Vegetable.

I Am not ravished with natural Ver­milion, so easily counterfeited by Art, or imitated by Artists; Yet neither am I so severe a Stoick, as wholly to con­temn it, Methinks, as our unadvised Philosophers, labouring, with their profound exorcismes, to cast out the fear of death, rather than augment its terrors; so some men, by decrying beauty, with pedantick gravity, enhance its Reputa­tion, or increase their appetites, whose [...]ick palats are apt to long for M [...]sh­rooms, and other meats, forbidden them by the Physician.

With some men, indeed, Beauty hath the force of Witch-craft, They are tran­sported with it, as if they had renoun­ced their Reason. Many emin [...]nt per­son [...], (especially such as professed Arms,) [Page 107] have been servilely addicted to it, not disdaining, or forbearing to lay their honours and interests at its feet, Thus, Vasques a prudent Spaniard, and great Captain, deferred the assault of Leyden, a [...]ter he had by battery, and other pres­sures, in a tedious siege, rendred it al­most uncapable of further defence, pure­ly at the instance of a Mistress, native of that Town, And so gave his active ene­my time and opportunity to relieve it, whereby his M [...]sters affairs in those Pro­vinces, were infinitely prejudiced, if not ruined, chusing rather, to incur the Cen­sure of the severest M [...]jesty, than the displeasure of unkind Beauty; Thus, the great Crequi oft times would not stick to boast, That he was, indeed, a Gentle­man, by the service of his Prince, but a Knight, by that of Ladies; But what example can parallel that of Anthony ▪ who apparently sacrifised the Empire of the world, to the entertainment of his Cleopatra.

Truly, I am astonished, and much scandalized at that solemn, yet silly pa­geantry, which they call the courting of [Page 108] the Dames; It much resembles their more commendable employment, that endeavour to charm the Bees with the harmony of a Kettle, and hath as much of superstition, as the Christening and hallowing of Steeples and Bells; It seems to be too much in jest, to be indeed in earnest, And, if those that so much pro­fes [...] it, do not buffoone, we are to pitty their more innocent, and lesse affected folly; Charity bids us hope, that it is only the mist of Knight-Errandry, whose phantastick blindness is apt to mistake Wind-mills, for Enchanted forts.

Wisdom easily discovers the imbecil­lity of this passion, which renders the lives and actions of men, not at all more serious, and but little, more ingen [...]ous then a Puppet-play; Yet he is two blind, that sees not a kind of Excellency, or finds not real and solid Charms in Beau­ty, especially where it is seconded with lovely Modesty, and true Honour; For then it becoms, as it were the Roman Eagle, and imperial banner of Vertue; since where they are united, they multi­ply, like Cyphers added to Figure [...].

[Page 109]The discourse of beauty points perpen­dicularly at Women, who have so en­grossed its perfection, that they brook not to hear of any Rival, except the An­gels; so as to sleight beauty, is in effect to slight Women, who being wholly ex­cused, and partly excluded from heroick Actions, yet triumph in their passive Ex­cellencies, whereby, if they do not equal, yet they parallel the brave [...]t men; In passive excellencies, indeed, yet not meerly passive; For what Trophies are more memorable than Beauties?

Certainly, It was not given them in vain; It is the Royal stamp and im­pression, for which, at least, they are va­lued, as excellent Medalls; with this badge of their order, as with a religious habit, they travel every where, like se­cure Pilgrims, And Violence offered them, is like breach of the Law of Nations; Nay, it not only preserves them from injuries and neglects, but re­commends them to all the advantages and prerogatives of life; And therefore wi [...]h much reason, they are of nothing so impatient, as that their beauty [Page 110] should be once questioned; It is as high a Treason, as to scan the title of a Sove­raign, As bold an Heresie, as to dispute the infallibility of the Pope.

But men have also their beauties, As a generous Mine, A face promising some­what more than vulgar, proper Taille, & C [...]urtly Gesture; These are beauties indeed, but not beauty which is peculiar to Women, and consists rather in delica­cy, then solidity; in finenesse then sub­stance.

The Beauty of men is their honour, not that of Pomp and titles, but reall worth, The Uniformity of their lives, and symmetry of their Actions, In one word, the Idea of their Vertues, great Excellencies indeed, if they were not ap­ter than those of Women, to be corrupt­ed with Flattery, blasted with Arrogan­cy, and counterfeited with Craft.

CRaft is a kind of honourable kna­very, Or the art of halting be­twixt honesty and wisdom, to each of which, it highly pretends, but is in both, equally lame and defective; For it hath nothing stable or solid, It stands upon no Basis, It owns no Principles, all its motions are excentrick, and it is but a trick of shifting and living extem­pore, like those that are put to seek their fortunes.

True Prudence, whose practice is re­gular, and whose end is Vertue, is scarce to be found; a [...]d therefore this Court­ly imposture cannot but passe current, in so corrupt an age as ours, when the highest aim of mens actions is to save their Credits, and their best Religion, to sin demurely; When no man thinks [Page 112] himself guilty, till he be apprehended, Nor imagines any offence, but where he must do penance. Who is he, that dares call the crafty man knave? None I pre­sume, but himself; Others indeed may shrewdly suspect, But it is no lesse cha­rity to believe, then prudence to speak warily, They are, I hope, no Recusants that go to Church, no Bastards, that were born in Mariage.

But alas, This is as a secret Vermine, knawing the very root of Honesty, And is such Leven in all our actions, as turn [...] the sweetest milk, into the soureness of a Rennet, It poysons vertue at the spring head, by infusing that Italian Maxim, That all Heroick habits have their birth from D [...]sign, and their nourishment from Ambition.

This is the disguise, that renders those Actions plausible, which if naked and uncouched, would not be patdonable, This is the dresse, which favours defor­mity, and the boot which hides the crookedness of the Leg; For whilst Hypocrisie p [...]lliates sin, Craft shelter [...] Hypocrisie, which would otherwise be [Page 113] more obnoxious, then sin it self, since wicked men live as cowardly, as the wild Irish are said to make warre, And would every day be cut in pieces, if they had not the retreat of a Bogge.

This is that Mock-Authority, which gives a counterfeit passe-port to all our Vices, And affords a safety to guilt, be­yond the security of the innocent; which by its false marches, and continual tra­verses, leads the Lawes a Dance, and e­ven harasses the Magistrate, with the frequency of its Alarms, The only good it hath, is this, That it proclaims the ne­cessity of a Resurrection, when simplicity shall triumph over Craft.

Truly, Nothing doth so fatally evi­dence the declining of our Manners, as to see Craft in such Reputation, be­ing exalted with all the Panegyricks due to wisdom; As if we were to be train­ed up to Vertue, like the Lacedaemonian Children to the Warres, In whom the dexterity of Stealing, and impudence of Lying were held presages of heroick Spi­rits; Craft, which dares not look o­thers, nor its own Conscience, in the [Page 114] face, which fears the light, and hates the dark, is become the currentest Coyn in our Mints.

Methinks, Though commonly it passe without detection, yet where it is once unmasked, it should appear so much the more ugly; Though it be too wise to incur mischief▪ yet shame should lite upon it, If it scape the halter, it should get a brand in the shoulder, And, if it be permitted to live, should, with Perkin Warbeck, be stript of its Majesty, and confined to the Kitchen; The more se­cure it is, the more hateful it should be, And, like the Arts of administring Poy­son, be accounted the treason of society; For thus ingratitude, whilst it escapes the Law, is stigmatized with reproach, equal to the greatest of Felonies.

Yet, let it passe, It may shift for a while, But for the most part, it owes an account, even in this life; Oft times its imbecillity betrayes it, But seldom it outlives the countermine of a greater subtilty than its own; In the mean time, let it enjoy its self-hatred, and de­light (if it can) in those perplexities & [Page 115] terrours, wherewith it is perpetually a­larmed; whilst, to prevent discoveries, All its behaviour is no better then pal­liation, Its whole life is but one continu­ed Apology.

O how miserably is it entangled, that it can scarce turn honest, if it would▪ In other, even the greatest enormities, it is sufficient, frankly, and penitently to con­fess, and forsake them; But Craft, be­ginning then only to be a Crime, when it is discovered, cannot reform its Vice, without abandoning it self to reproach and danger: Wherefore it is obliged, as it were, by the Law of Nature, in its own defence, to multiply falshood [...], wherein it becoms, at last so bold, that it proves a prey to Civil Lawes, and a lively Mo­nument of Divine Justice, which tri­umphs in nothing more, than in bringing the sins of the Cabinet, to the punish­ments of the Scaffold.

IT is strange to observe, How these three Ornaments of Conversation, (which indeed, have some common li­neaments of resemblance, though no per­fect likeness) are in vulgar speech, (the bane of propriety) wont to be confoun­ded; But it is yet stranger to consider, how they are apt (at least some of them) to passe for that Angelical habit of friendship, Amongst themselves, they are easily distinguished, Betwixt them and it, there is no proportion.

Amongst themselves, Criticisme will shew us, That they differ in their Ge­nus and Properties; For kindness must be referred to Indoles, Courtesie to Facul­tas, Civility to Aptitudo, The first, Inna­ta, the second Induta, the third Imbuta, In their Objects, For the proper Object [...] of kindness, are our natural relations [Page 117] and neer alliances, of Courtesie, our Acquaintance, especially Infer [...]ors, of Civility, strangers. In their Subjects, For that of Kindness is the thoughts, that of Courtesie the speeches, and that of Ci­vility the Addresse [...]. And, lastly, in their Ends and Effects, For Kindnes [...] tends to beget Confidence, Courtesi [...] Ob­ligation, and Civility Respect. As for friendship, they do not differ from it, but are subordinate to it, Nay, at its ap­pearance, they Vanish like little Stars at Day-break. In the Infusion, and tinct­ure, they are there, but no [...] in the gros [...] substance, For Friendship, though i [...] seems to be a sacred Compound of all Vertues and Graces, Yet is it without any mixture, or loss of its entireness and simplicity.

However, In our dregs of times, which have, in effect, left us onely the name and husk of Friendship, these are esteemed great Amities, And are, I fear, the best we have; Indeed, we could, by no means want them, for they serve turn in default of better [...]lment, to patch up a kind of Society, and entertain Commerce.

[Page 118]Kindness is a sweet familiar of life, Most necessary, even to uphold the fa­brick of the World, for the Communi­cation of earthly Comforts, and mu­tual aid, depend upon it; Without it, we are but a kind of serpents stinging or hissing at each other; It is the harbinger of Familiarity, and likeliest to prove the seed of Friendship.

Courtesie is a faculty of great advan­ [...]ag [...], And a Commodity of as nimble Vent, as any in the shop; It bespeaks Acceptance, it bribes Good will, and prevails, beyond Importunity. It ren­ders our Equals, Inferiours, Our ser­vants, Vassals; Falshood uses it, as har­lots do Vermilion, for it hath a singular Gloss; But even such disguises are but needful, where faces are so rough-hewen▪ For take off the Maske, and their ap­pears a General difformity, a ceasing o [...] hospitality, an interfering in all our Actions and discourses.

What shall I say of Civility? It di­stinguishes us from the Wildest of Wil [...] Beasts, For nothing is so salvage, as un [...]civil men; Pity it is, That reason should [Page 119] be cast away upon them; Let them ra­ther live, like Satyres, in the Vast Woods and deserts, and feed like Swin, Each in his own trough: It is wonder, Mankind doth not spue, or work them out, as Wine doth lees and dregs; For, where Civili­ty is not, there is Barbarisme, and a Pri­vation of all that is moral.

VVHatever prejudice the foolish and sensual-conceive of Old Age, it is the Academy of Wisdom, the Diadem of life, the Porch of Immorta­lity.

Youth is composed of Vanity & Fren­ [...]y, Weak in Judgement, yet impatient of Counsel, Obnoxious to censure, yet uncapable of reproof; Studious of sub­tle Arts, before solid Knowledge; Gree­dy [Page 120] rather of eloquence, then Wisdom; Bu­sied with Circular imaginations, Prosti­tute to Pleasure: Justice it measures by Power, and resolves, That whatsoever it can do, it may; Its bounty consists in Profuseness, rather casting away, then conferring benefits; Even its Valour i [...] more furious then resolute, so that it charges boldly, but is lost in retreats; Indeed, what true Vertue can it have, that knows no Moderation?

Young men may well be prompt and acute, For, by Reason of the heat and Moy [...]uire wherein they a [...]ound, Imagi­nation is strong in them; And in Me­mory they most exc [...]ll, Whereby, they have means to supply their own imper­fections, with forein knowledg [...]; B [...]t their Experience is so narrow, and their Reason so unfixed, that they cannot ye [...] Arrive at Wisdom and Constancy, the fruits and effects of Maturer Age.

Old men, perhaps, may be irresolute and so forfeit those. Opportunit [...]es o [...] great Actions and Events, which Youn­ger men would probably have improved, And this, chiefly appears in the Profes­sion [Page 121] of Arms, Wh [...]re, in regard fortune presides, Bold and Vigorous Attempts are commonly favoured, and caution may be as prejudicial as rashnes [...]; Where­fore the Politicks, indeed, prefer the Che­valery of young Commanders, assisted by A [...]cient C [...]unsellors, before the Pru­dence of Old Captaines, though se­conded by youthful Officers: yet let not Youth too much triumph in this shad­dow of advantage; For even such gaye­ty proceeds, for the most part, from want of foresight, and ignorance of dangers, whereas the Omissions of Old Age are but the Effects of deep Provi­dence, and Various experience, endea­vouring to reduce all things to Reason or Rule, and disdaining to leave ought to the blindness of meer Chance.

However, Admit this to be a defect Essential to Old Age, Yet it is supplied with many exce [...]lent Vertues, which not onely rescue it from Contempt, but ren­der, even its imperfections, Venerable.

It is, indeed, that recollected Estate of true Wisdom, wherein commonly we begin to live, and from whence we may [Page 122] reasonably date the time of our being, as Charles the Fifth was wont to reckon his Age, onely from the day of his Retreat. It is a seasonable interval of perfect lei­sure, wherein the soul, being no longer biassed & diverted with present amuse­ments, seriously reflects upon things Past, and diligently prepares her self for things to come; Till then, she was wholly laid aside, the Body kept her, as it were un­der hatches, and she lived, but like slen­der Coals raked up in vast Embers. Now, being delivered from her bondage, she appears in Equipage, like worthy Ci­tizens, recalled from banishment, to be invested with Supreme Authority. We now begin to value others, and ourselves, not by sleight Appearances, but by such intrinsecal habits as are onely valuable▪ We have now learned to retire to the Sanctuary within us, neither expecting good, nor fearing evil, from any Crea­ture but our selves. We now decline those Airy speculations, which are, in­deed, but the Itch of the Mind, And pa­ring off the Excrescencies of unfruitful knowledge, reduce all our Theory into [Page 123] Practice. What further can be added to the just merits of Old Age, whose Actions are Uniform, and its Passions re­gular, whose Vertues are perfect, and, e­ven its errors secure. It Understands clear­ly, Distinguishes rightly, Concludes, as it were, Infallibly, and, (which Crown [...] all) lives conformably?

Such indeed is Old Age, in upright and regenerate souls; B [...]t as general Councils, where they reform not the Church, establish its corruptions, and infect it with Canonical Heresie; so an Old sinner becomes incorrigible; His Vices are Manners, and his Evil Cu­stomes, Nature. He sins untempted, like evil Angels, and retains a Will, even be­yond the power or Lust of Offending; He needs no other mix [...]ure or Change of Elements, for he is already a Clod of the Impurest Earth, rotten and sordid, be­yond the stench of Sepulchres, or putri­faction of Worms. Lastly, he remains the fatal Pyramide of Gods Justice; who, because the sins of Mankind were [...]ulti­plyed, in Mercy, shortned our Dayes; For, with God, it is most just, That, [Page 124] such as have hardened themselves, like Pharaoh, should, like him, be hardened, And those, that forgate God, when they were Young, should defie him, when they are Old.

IF we might fancy a Generation of Angels, who in propagating would lose nothing of their Primitive Excel­lency, but continue their Purity in their race, It were, indeed, no Vanity, to be proud of such a Pedigree: But, since men entaile onely their Lands, and not their Vertues, Since the children of He­roes, degenerate, like Southern fruits transplanted into colder climates, Since (as if the world decayed) Gyants beget Dwarfs, I see not why Tantalus should any longer vaunt himself the son of Iu­piter.

Bu [...], alas, not onely the Chanel of ho­nour [Page 125] is Muddy, the very fountain is brackish; to assign reward and dignity onely to merit, is indeed the proper sub­ject of a declamation, but it speaks ra­ther Vtopian then good English.

Some rise by undermining the inno­cency, and betraying the confidence of others, for the great are ever heaving, like Moales: some arrive at Honors by ser­ving the Pride and other irregular Pas­sions of the Great, Or (which is much like) by loathsome flattery, For flattery is Prides Prostitute. And some are as meer Creatures of favour, as Flies of Sunshine, The very Cubbs of fortune, as blind as their damme; For Soveraigns delight sometimes to coyn such men for Medals, as have no stampe of merit in themselves.

The most General, most sure, and per­haps most innocent means of invading honor, is by sluggish purchase, and the infinite desert of mony; No dignity Se­cular or Sacred is ashamed to stoop to it; It creates Cardinals at Rome, it dubbs Knights at Malta, Nay it admits even Senators at Venice; Of such honors we [Page 126] may say, as some Gentlemen of their Perriwigs, or Ladies of their Complexi­ons, They are, indeed, their own, since they Paid for them.

How few are they, that purchase Ho­nour by desert? And if any will en­deavor it, They must cut their way through the Rock, they must past the Pikes of Malice; For the sons of fa­vour prove indeed the Envy of many, But those of merit are an eye-soar to all.

Wisely indeed, and Morally did the Sage Heathens decree, That the Passage to the Temple of Honour, should be thorough that of Vertue; But this was onely a Philosophy Lecture, and a kind of Hieroglyphick.

To Conclude, The Honor of our times is but like the Honor of the Scene, And, if duely examined, proves, at best to be but ancient wealth.

VVHen I consider, how true Learn­ing improves every faculty of the Soul, how it refines the Understand­ing, and reforms the Mind; In fine, how it makes almost as vast a difference betwixt men and men, as betwixt Men and Animals▪ and yet withall Observe, what slender homage is performed to the Gown, And what silly advantages most men reap from their Studies; mine ears cannot but tingle at that unhappy, yet true Proverb: Physicians get the wealth, and Lawyers the Honor, whilst Philoso­phy walkes in Quirpo.

Surely, It was otherwise of Old; When seven Cities bandied for the ho­nor of Homers nativity, When the Wis­dom of Socrates was attested by Oracle, When Philosophers were Princes Peers, at least their Co-adjutors and Suffra­gans, [Page 128] substituted, like great Clerks, to supply the non-residence of Cardinals; When the Consulship of Rome was the daily Guerdon of Eloquence.

But, indeed, the Cause of this diffe­rence is too apparent, such only were then accounted Learned, as lived more learn­edly then they spake or dictated; And those were thought illiterate, though never so prompt and subtle, whose halt­ing Practices betrayed the lameness of their Minds; Sophistry was not yet in Credit, nor any of those Superficial Arts, which prove abortive of Wisdom, and fruitful onely of Ostentation; There were not many that had Confidence to usurp a title so envious as Philosophy, such as then wore the Venerable Gown, having purchased fame by degrees and Methods, and so attaind to Maturity, needed no other Characters of Honor, then those that were written in their foreheads.

Whereas the Learned of our Age are so far from challenging reverence or true applause, that they even fall into contempt, and are become the onely [Page 129] persons in Comoedies; They may well pretend to Learning, but their behavi­our proclaims them strangers to liberal Science; Though their tougues speak Greek, yet their manners savour of the Barbarian.

Much, I confess, they peruse, but in­deed read little; Variety of imperfect Notions rendring their Judgement a meer Chaos, and their Memories no bet­ter then a kind of Alphabetical Ind [...]x; You would imagine them to have dwelt rather in Caves then Colleges or Cities, For the Commonwealth hath not more unprofitable Members then th [...]y.

And yet, methinks, I could afford to r [...]cant, or at least qualifie my invectives; Certain it is, That no Age hath more a­bounded with learned men, then the Present, which by Gourmandizing books, is now Crop-sick of knowledge; Those Arts and Sciences, which were almost like terra incognita to our Ancestors, have been in latter times, exactly sur­veyed, and are described, as it were, in Vulgar Mappes; Those Notions which were then locked up, like Jewels in a few [Page 130] brests, are now grown, as Common as the Elements; But, alas, Even Moathes have eaten Folio's; It is one thing, I conceive, to have Learning, and another to be Learned; All lay Claim to Art as Intercommoners, but few as Proprie­tors.

Some select Persons, I know, there are, worthy the Noble Order, whose badge they wear; But their handful is too much over-ballanced by multitudes of such, as use the decency of the Long Robe, onely to palliate their Nakedness, and patronize their folly; In the mean time, they are promiscuously brand­ed with the Vulgar, which hath Lea [...]n [...]d to call every little Mountebanck a Doctor. With the Vulgar indeed, For with the Judicious, Diamonds do not so diff [...]r from flints, nor Bat [...] from Eagles, as men tru [...]ly Learned from Pe­dante.

AS Rest is the End of Natural, so is Peace of Civil Motions, Though, whilst the former, proceeding from Ne­cessary Agents, are commonly regular, The latter, being governed by Volunta­ry, prove very Excentrick.

The Motion of N [...]tural Bodies is mostly from outward Causes, Whereby Philosophy hath so oft miscarried of its perpetuity: Bodies Politick have a prin­ciple wholy intrinsecal to them ( viz.) The restless spirits of men, The everlast­ing mutinies of our Lusts.

And these Lusts are th [...] Causes of War, both immediately, by dividing the souls of men, and mediately, by provoking the Justice of God, to make lust its own Executioner, So that the Onely true foundation of Peace is Innocency and Obedience; For why should he exp [...]ct peace with m [...]n, that is an O [...]tlaw to t [...]e God of Peace?

But, methinks, I speak, as in Plato's Commonweal [...]h, P [...]blike Reformation is indeed glorious, but difficult and dan­gerous in its misconceptions: For Mine­rals inflame, and gentle Physick operates little; He had need be very Eloquent that allays tumults with perswasion, Wisemen therefore study inward Peace, as the only haven, that d [...]fies Shipwrack; seeing that the best they are to expect from without, is but a kind of truce or Intermission, A short space, for Champions, by consent, to take breath, Perhaps, no actual sickness, Yet a crasie conftitution.

If any solid and durable Peace there can be, We are to expect it from the Pi­ety and prudence of Good Magistrate [...], the Guardians of Publick Peace, and Tu­telary Angels of Commonwealths, Their Justice must enliven, Their vigilancy preserve, Their Power and Authority vindicate it.

A just Magistrate, then, will content himself, with the just bounds of his Pre­rogative, and lawful limits of his Em­pire: He will do the work of Peace even [...] War, and p [...]fer one Olive-branch be­fore [Page 133] many Lawrels. He will remember▪ that great Oppressions not onely cause Seditions, but seem almost to justifie them; and that mighty Conquerors commonly resemble such, as in swal­lowing, what they digest not, are rather stuffed then nourished.

The Vigilant Prince will consider, That sucking Vices, fostered by his con­nivence, will soon grow tall and Nation­al abuses; That Lurking practices, un­prevented, prove Open broyles; And that a careless Monarch resembles a rich Travellor, sleeping securely in the Com­pany of Theeves.

The wise Emperor will value his Re­putation, as his Scepter; He will rather chuse to reign by Lenity and Love, yet so as to have Aw in the reserve, Though he never draw his sword, yet his hand will be alwayes upon the hilts, That the sub­tle and turbulent may despaire to sur­prise him; For unarmed Powers are al­ready half deposed; But few will be so hardy, as once to attempt Authority, seconded with Courage, and assisted with Counsel.

THe Crown of Jerusalem, though, indeed, it was but a phautastick Diadem, is observed to have had more pretenders to it, than great and solid Empires; scance any Prince, that did not assume the Title, that did not use its Arms to fill his Scutcheon: Since none could possess, each resolved to challenge it, as knowing, that therein he should not give jealousie to his Neigh­bours, nor stir up any Rival. Truly, when I consider the throng of those, that entitle themselves to Conscience, even such, as have scarce any colour of Con­quest or alliance to it, I should greatly marvail, if I did not withall remember, how easie and natural it is to claim, where there is scarce any true property, And how fit sh [...] is to be every mans Pro­stitute, that is no mans Spouse.

That indeed is a chearful Religion, which s [...]rves our temporal ends, which [Page 135] Courts our Appetites, and whereof, we are, as it were, our own Carvers: Surely it suits with the best policy, to comply with Conscience in appearance, that it may bring us real advantages, to humour it in professions and formalities, that it may serve us in the main. But who can away with Cynical Piety, with the crabbed Doctrines of Self-de­nyal, with such a Law, as enterferes with all that is dearest to us, and is as crosse to our projects and interests, as if our enemies had invented it to countermine us?

Who would not be content with the King of Spain, to hold the Realm of Naples, by the yearly tribute of four thousand Crowns, and a white Palfrey? Who so bad a Catholick, that he will not come to Confession, where he is sure to purchase plenary absolution? Who would not, with Lewis the 11th, carry an Agnus of Lead in his Cap, under shelter whereof he may, when occasion requires, break his promise to man, or Oath to God, without further disp [...]nsa­tion, or satisfacation?

[Page 136]Alas,▪ How cheap is Conscience grown, amongst the Grandees of the World? They all ask it Iudas his Questi­on, Quid mihi dabitis? What fruit may we expect from thee? What advance­ment of our Affaires? What colour for our unwarrantabl [...] Actions? What Cloak for our Ambitions? Will it stalk to our Desig [...]es? Will it make way, or give way to our Interests? Thus Piety is grown to be the greatest intrigu [...] of State, Any errour or crime must be committed, rather than this mask un­veiled: There is nothing so politick as Conscience, if we may believe History, especially that of these latter [...]imes.

IT seems to be an Argument, alone suf­ficient to perswade thrift, that with­out it, no man is rich or happy; For Luxury, as it tends to ruine at last, so, in the mean time, it exposes to all the pres­sures [Page 137] of a declining Estate, and interlards, as it were, Riot with Poverty, since he that hath not a fortune equal to his ex­pence, is already in the condition of a poor man.

And this Argument, ab incommodo, hath the greater force, in regard, nothing is more familiar, then for men of Noble Blood, eminent abilities, active spirit [...], and aspiring thoughts, to endeavour somewhat worthy of themselves, wherein they could not have failed, if they had not, by their own or Ancestors impro­vidence, been as it were dismounted; For when they offer to soare, they find, that though they have the courage of an Eagle, yet their wings are but like the wings of a Batt; Which misfortune is most observable in Princes, whose Ex-chequers being once emptied by profuse Gifts, and vain Pomp, not only their lawrels, but their Coronets, and even their Olive-branches wither, their Au­thority is ham-strung, and of Princes, they soon become Pensioners.

But let us withall consider, That the Riotous are no better than Vermine, [Page 138] born to consume and devour, Drones, which making no Hony themselves, eat up that which the industry of the Bees hath gathered; For though some will object, that vast expence serves to quick­en commerce, and with some equality distribute wealth; Yet it were too bold a Paradox to maintain, That the Com­mon-wealth hath need of Vice to sup­port it.

Let us remember, that for a man to sacrifice his Estate to his present Appe­tite, savours of the meer Epicure, and is a more then brutish improvidence, That it hath lesse excuse, then the prophaness of Esau, which would plead extremity of hunger; Indeed, how can he be thought to contemplate eternity, that neglects posterity, and looks not beyond an instant of time?

Certainly, There is much Philoso­phy, nay Divinity in true thrift; It is the equiballance of the soul betwixt Lust and Avarice; For thrift is not only con­sistent with, but neer of kin to Liberali­ty, preserving it both from vice and mis­fortune; since it is seldom seen, That [Page 139] Families are ruined with Hospitality, or Treasuries exhausted with Bounty.

When I consider all those works of Piety, Charity, and Magnificence, which continue amongst us, as everlasting Mo­numents, more honourable than the Trophees of Conquest; When I aske my self, who built our Churches? Who founded our Hospitalls? Who endow­ed our Colleges? I easily answer, it was not the dissolute spend, th [...]ift, who can enjoy nothing but what he con­sumes; It was not the penurious nig­gard, who would, if it were possible, carry his Coffers with him into another VVorld; It was the honest Mesnager, whom God had blest with largeness of heart, capable of pious and generous de­signes, with abundance of wisdom, to contrive, with amplitude of fortune, to accomplish the same.

The vertue of Frugality dwells not in the hand, but in the mind; Else we must ascribe much Vertue to our Iron Chests; Parsimony therefore is a foul imposture; For though it want not its pretence, The exorbitancies and mischiefs of Luxury [Page 140] having furnished it with a long and de­cent Cloak, Yet surely it proceeds but from that Atheistical wisdom which distrusting providence, would prevent it; And is, at best, but the doughness of an abortive soul.

THough Patience be, in our Age, ac­counted a Vertue, fon none but Eunuchs, Women, and Stoicks, Yet he that compares it with that vulgar valour, which the world so highly extolls, shall find it far more estimable, more eligible: Valour may be the heavier Iron, but Patience is the truer Steel▪

Indeed the Valour of our times seems to be the most irregular of all the Ver­tues, subject to much Intemperance, and Transportation, Very apt to degenerate into Rashness and Insolency. Patience [Page 141] is a Quality composed of Religion and Reason, Free from the Neighbourhood of Vice.

Valour resembles the leaves and blos­soms of the Tree, most agreeable, indeed to the fight, but flourishing only in Sum­mer; Patience is like the root or sap, which though secret, and concealed to the eye, yet keeps it alive in Winter, and preserves it from the injuries of Winds and Blasts.

Valour is so much seated in the Liver and Veins, Tha sometimes it appears to have more of Complexion then Vertue. Patience dwells in the upper [...]egion of the soul, and hath no Commerce with the blood or humours of the body.

Valour is exposed to many surprisals, and is observed to have its gayeties and intermissions, It is not alwayes at hand, nor alwayes useful, For it rusts in peace. But Patience is an Armory, alwayes ready, alwayes necessary, We have not greater use of the Elements, than of it.

Alas! Who can fight against his de­stiny? Or what will it avail men to dare, [Page 142] when they are called to Suffer? When we come to grapple with death, or close with afflictions, more grievous than it, A dram of Patience is then worth an ounce of Valour: Valour like a stone Wall is broken with obstinate resistance, whilst Patience, like a Rampart of Mud, damps the violence by yielding.

Valour is a Vertue, that hath cost the World dear, Mankind is thought to have payd for it, more than it is worth; It carries, like Sylla, wrath and ruine in its countenance, And no Comet hath had so fatal an influence, upon humane affaires, Witness the subversions of Go­vernments, and Corruptions of manners, which it daily and every where effects, introducing for Justice & Modesty, Ri­ot and Rapin, for the Arts and Learning of Greeks, the Ignorance and Barbarism of Gothes; These are the fruits of this tyranical Vertue, which knowes no end of booty and Conquest. Patience was never injurious to any, but as it is happy to it self, so it is alwayes innocent to o­thers, and ambitious of nothing but Martyrdom.

[Page 143]Yet, in regard we are fallen into those latter times, when he that wants a sword, is advised to sell his Cloak, and buy one: Swords, I confess, are now become as ne­cessary as Lawes, And we can no more want Valour, than Justice, For how shall that protect others, which is not a­ble to defend it self; Justly therefore doth the World do homage to a Vertue, which is at once both terrible, and a­miable, since from it we fear our De­struction, and to it we owe our Protecti­on; It oppresses indeed, and that some­times heavily, But withall, it rescues us from all Oppressions; save its own: Truly it hath an excellent use; But then like strong Minerals, it must be cor­rected and refined from its Crudities; It must be steered by a better Pilot, For like fi [...]e and water, it is safer to serve, then command.

My result and Conclusion is this, I e­steem no Valour to that Christian Forti­tude, which had rather suffer the great­est injuries, then do the least; And I reckon no Coward to the Impatient man, to whom nature was cruel at his [Page 144] birth, and wisdom a Step-Mother in his Education.

CLemency is a generous Vertue, en­clining Magistrates to pardon, where Lawes condemn; And herein it surpasseth Equity, as much as that doth Justice, For Equity is but moderated Law, Clemency is free grace, Equity re­lieves against rigour, Clemency remits where no Equity can relieve.

Now this Vertue in men, is parallel to one of the greatest Excellencies of the Divine nature, For as God, when he re­lieves our wants, exercises his Mercy, so doth he, when he forgives o [...]r faults, his Clemency.

But, Clemency, as well as Justice, is fled to Heaven, And hath scarce left her Mantle behind; Only a kind of Rag, patched up with these three sordid and [Page 363] rotten Ingredients, Fear, Policy, and Remissenesse.

Fear is like a secret conspirator, by whose unworthiness and treachery, Ju­stice is commonly surprised and disarm­ed, perhaps poysoned, or smoothered; And yet, when Princes have not the cou­rage to do Justice, but are sordidly over­awed by the Power, and Greatness of Offendors, This their Parasites are wont to call Clemency.

Policy, in this sense, is as a corrup [...] Judge, suborned to condemn, or a Mes­senger of Death, to strangle the Lawes unheard; And yet, whilst in order to some State-end, of more seeming advan­tage than a forfeiture, Magistrates are content to look, as it were, through their fingers, Even this Impostor must put on the shape of an Angel.

Remissiness is as the Lethargy of Go­vernment; Howbeit▪ when the R [...]igns thereof are so slack, that (contrary to the Excellent Doctrine of Stoicks, Parci [...] & indulget sapiens, non ignoscit) not only criminous persons are indulged, bu [...] even Crimes remitted, And that so sleightly & [Page 164] [...]requently, as it seems rather a Compli­ance, than a Pardon, so that vices, as Weeds, are suffered to overtop and choak the Laws, This loosnesse also usurps the honourable name of Clemency.

Whereas indeed true Clemency is di­stemper'd with no alarms, aw'd with no duress, bribed with no end [...], stupified with no Opium, But being a free & wise habit, hath no Aim save Vertue, and is a [...] void of design as Bounty.

Certainly, the practice of this Vertue was never more necessary, than in our dayes, when Lawes are becom as dark and intricate, as the crimes and abuses they would prevent or punish, As generally penall, as if all sins were equal, And as if they were made, not with an intent that they should be duly executed, but stand, as many of them do, only for bug-bears and scare-crowes, Yet withall so nu­merous, that no memory can hope to re­tain, and indeed, scarce any innocency to satisfie them. Magistrates therefore, should by their wisdom and moderation, correct and sweeten them, especially in matter of capital concernment, wherein [Page 165] the wariness of ancient Law-givers is most imitable, who ordained the greatest punishments for none, but the greatest and most important Crime [...], Thereby declaring, That even whilst they design­ed to punish men as transgressors, yet still they pittied and considered them as men.

The errours of ignorance and impro­vidence differ from wilful and determi­nat [...], b [...]ing such as seem to be extorted by a kind of necessity, are not equal to those that proceed from malice, wan­tonness and contempt, Some faults there are, whose punishment will neither serve for example to others, nor pardon en­danger the Common-wealth; some per­sons, whose former merits, or future hopes might challenge indulgence or mitigation, In such cases Magistrate [...] have fair opportunities to renown their mercy and prudence, by distinguishing the circumstances and degrees of Guilt, and interposing betwixt laws & offence [...].

Lawes only examine Quid, Magi­strate [...] should consider Quo animo; Lawes can admit of no excuses▪ But Magistrates may entertain Apologies; Lawes must [Page 166] not endure that their sentences be dispu­ted, But Magistrates should listen to the equity of an appeal.

The wi [...]e Magistrate doth not punish men, because they have offended, but lest they should offend; He is not angry, but provident: In all his Rigours, he hath still an eye to these three ends, The a­mendment of the party, the Reformati­on of the People, and publick security. This Maxime he layes as the basis of all his Justice, That it were better many great offendors should escape, than one hon [...]st Citizen suffer, Or a Member be unnecessarily lopt off from the Com­mon-wealth; And therefore it is truly said, That Nature and Reason designes good men for Magistrates.

Seneca, with much earnestness, incul­cates this Doctrine to Nero, That against Law, none could destroy, nor any, but the Emperour, preserve, Thereby per­swading him the more to value this power of pardoning, as being the most radiant Gem of his diadem, and his best prerogative. Indeed, what glory can a Prince affect, like that of Clemency? [Page 167] since it is superiour even to Justice, A vertue truly soveraign, and incommu­nicable.

To some offences, an evil Conscience is sufficient punishment, Some are as slip­pery as Eeles, Lawes cannot take hold of them, Those that endeavour to re­strain them with penalties, do but soil themselves, & betray their insufficiency, As that wise Emperour Tiberius obser­ved of the pomp and superfluity in his time, That Vices of that nature could be no way redrest, unless necessity reformed the poor, saciety the rich, and shame all. A good and prudent Governour will not baffle his Justice▪ in directing his severi­ty against these and the like abuses; but will rather endeavour with the Vertue of his example to supply the defect of Edicts.

3 But why do I vainly discourse of Clemency, whilst Equity, and even Ju­stice it self lies every where bleeding. A­las, the Lawes of most Countries are squared, rather to private Passion, then publick Benefit, to serve present designs, then procure lasting Reformations: [Page 168] Their obscurity is not by chance. It is the aim of the Law-makers, that, in in­terpreting them, they may draw to them­selves a power, as absolute, as if there were no Lawes. How then can we hope for redress, when Remedies prove Dis­eases? Or what room is there left for Clemency, whilst forfeitures are more acceptable then obedience?

IT is admirable to see, how the world hath misconceived of a brave and ge­nerous Spirit, which name is commonly attributed to none, but men of unbridled Passions, & such as fortune and Education have made insolent. Now this is not pro­perly the Courage of men, but of horses, which with high keeping are apt to grow fierce and unruly.

He that is truly magnanimous, Judges the habit of domineering to be but a kind of Pedantick Gallantry, and ab­horrs nothing more, then the brutishness [Page 169] of a Voluptuous Appetite, and disolute­nesse of a lawlesse Spirit.

He places not all his glory in his pow­er to Offend, as Boars do in their Fangs, But as he scorns the Imputation of a Coward, so he much more hates disloy­alty and Oppression, And prefers the Idea of Cato before that of Caesar.

He esteems Warre (as Warre, with­out due limitations,) to be a profession for none but Goths, and Vandales, a bar­barous decision of right and wrong, the last appeal, and worst of remedies to be used, like the cutting of off Gangreened lims.

A just Warre he persecutes, only with Relation to honest Peace, To which he Courts his Enemy, even when he hath conquered him, Alwaies ready to referre or compound his Interests, and never Ob­stinate, but in the defence of his country.

He is not affected with the Popular Ayr, and for discontent he never habo­red it so much as in a dream, Faction he declines, not so much for the Dang [...]r, as the Vice and pravity of it, Reformation he intends, but listens not to Novelty; [Page 172] so that turbulent Spirits despayre of his confederacy, and fear his Moderation, more then the Enmity of others.

He is not easily scared out of honest Principles, nor are his sober and gene­rous resolutions checked with any servile feare; For he hates that Providence, which, to the Prejudice of vertue, fore­sees all possibility of hazard, and reserves his friendship then to appear, when all others are timorous, and withdraw themselves.

He despises not Honour, in regard it is or ought to be the shadow of Vertue, yet weighs not himself by titles, since they adde not to his intrinsicall Value; He is rather content with the true honour of doing nothing unworthy of himself, and with the Greatnesse of a sincere heart, Thus he never seeks preferment, but it allwayes follows him, and he hath the refusall of it.

He is cautious, in Promising, for he is rigorous in performing, and can give no greater assurance then his word, from which to recede, might perhaps do injury to others, but to himself vio­lence.

[Page 171]He is no Usurer of his Benefits, nei­ther by precedent delayes, nor subsequent reproaches, Full of humanity, as know­ing the Instability, and contemning the Petulancy of Fortune.

His memory is the faithful treasury of Benefits, or but Courtesies, received, which he ever quits seasonably, and with interest; In the mean time, he owes and owns them chearfully, and looks not up­on his Patron, as his Gaoler, detesting that ingrati [...]ude, which when it canno [...] requite, hates its benefactor.

As he is strict in discharging Obliga­tions, so he is nice in receiving them, es­pecially from unworthy men, lest he be driven to a kind of magnitude. For such benefits are to him, as suspected as Snares, as loathsom as Prisons, as odious as Bribes; remembering that excellent address of Seneca to Cicero, where per­swading him to disdain the mercies of Anthony, He alledg [...]s, That if his life were worth acceptance, it would not be freely offered him by so great an enemy and Tyrant.

He is candid and tender in his trans­actions, [Page 172] actions, and so modest in his just de­mands, that his modesty even extorts Ju­stice from others; In his censures well-advised, not only out of Prudence, but Conscience, He flie-blowes no mans same, his reports and narratives neither multiply, nor yet aggravate.

Prosperity he suspects, as temperate men do sweet Wine, And therefore al­layes it with sober recollection and vi­gilancy, Adversity is more his Element, He is the same to the World in both E­states, Onely to himself severer in the former, doing double duty, in regard his greatest enemies are then neerest.

He is large in all his actions, noble in his entertainments, laying the foundati­on of magnificence, in discreet frugality, Careless of outward things, as his pru­dence will permit, And if he be rich, he is not in bondage, nor pupillage to his Estate.

He hath the Boldness of a Lion, with­out the Rage, The Caution of a Fox, without the Craft; Subtle without equi­vocation, Courtly without falshood, Courteous without design; Friendship [Page 173] he esteemes a holy Mystery, and would as soon commit sacriledge it self, as wrong it. Of nothing, but God, and his own Conscience, he stands in awe, And therefore is as solicitous, in directing his thoughts, as wary, in framing his dis­course, And provides, that his intenti­ons be as well upright, and reasonable, as his actions morall.

IF it be a beginning of Wisdom to a­void folly, Certainly silence would at least challenge this honour: For there are not greater or more considerable Er­rours or mischiefs, then those that pro­ceed from the misgovernments of the Tongue, No greater breaches of Chari­ty, Violations of Justice, or interrupti­ons of Peace, betwixt man and man, in private Families, and oft times even in Cities.

[Page 174]Yet, since we live not in Cloysters, but Common-wealths, since Vertues consist not in Negatives, and Wisdom is not a dumb spirit, It follows, that as Tempe­rance is better then entire abstinence, so the wisdom of speaking, only in due season, is to be preferred before demure silence. Sapiens non silet, sed tacet.

No S [...]ct, or Order, methinks, should be so austere, as to interdict us the bene­fit of an innocent conversation; But dis­cretion should alwayes direct our dis­courses, to some profitable end: For, a wise man will be frugal of his words, though they seem to cost him no­thing.

He will know, that his speech can hardly be sufficiently weighed, so as it neither ssavour of levity, nor give offence, especially in such an Age as this, wherein there may perhaps be as little safety in telling truths, as honesty in speaking falshoods, And prejudices are so many, That the veriest Sycophant findes e­nough to do to please all.

He will consider, That the most in­nocent Discourses, may be either igno­rantly [Page 175] misinterpreted, or voluntarily wrested, and perhaps enviously misre­ported, That it is not enough, to mean uprightly, unless he speak so warily, that even malice it self can misconstrue no­thing; for free speakers have need of Candid Auditors.

He will observe, How confident tal­kers betray themselves to snares and dis­coveries, Their thoughts are transpa­rent, and their brests, as it were, Chry­stall; silence hath as much advantage on them, as the close Guard in fencing, up­on an open posture, or a well-conducted Troop, upon disordered Squadrons.

He will seldom give way to unprofita­ble Arguments; Nor loves them, for their own sake, but truths; Knowing how much apter they are to end in ani­mosity then peace, and how subject to uncivil interferings. However, he is nei­ther peremptory, nor loud in maintain­ing them; Not peremptory, For bold assertions proclaim either invincible ig­norance, or overweening prejudice, which is ever blind of one eye; Nor loud, because he directs his speech, not to Sense, but Reason.

[Page 176]He will remember and weigh, how great an impotency it is for a man, to fall by his tongue, How many have been accounted wise, till their own follies have confuted fame; How decently on the other side, even ignorance it self is pal­liated with silence.

He will be serious, even in his mirth, and wonderful choice in the subject of his Jests, so that they render him, neither faulty to himself, nor guilty to others, For unseasonable scoffes are sometimes as much resented, as solemn injuries, And friendship hath as oft been broken in jest, as in earnest.

In all his Discourses, he will chiefly aim at Vertue, or Peace, having an espe­ciall regard to the strict Duties of Reli­gion and Charity, And rather then transgress either of these, he will be con­tent to live and die a Carthusian.

TEmperance is a vertuous habit of governing the Appetite, according to Nature and discreet Convenience: But, in regard, all Vertues consist in re­gulating the Appetite, lest this Definiti­on should prove too large, we will ra­ther describe Temperance to be the Phi­losophy of Diet, or Habit of eating or drinking moderately.

Truly it is both a great Vertue, and a great Wisdom, A great Vertue in its Principle and Design, A great wisdom in its Progresse and Issue.

Its design is self-Conquest, and t [...]e soveraign Command of Reason over sen [...]e, A noble disdain to serve the belly, An ambition to be as spirituall, as is pos­ [...]ible, And to resemble the perfection of [Page 178] Angels, who subsist without those feeble and dishonourable supports, Upon these grounds, The generous soul con [...]ines her self to simple nourishment, to exalt Ver­tue, as far as she can, without robbing nature; Upon these indeed, yet not up­on these only, she hath yet higher and worthier designes; To obey Gods Com­mandements in the regular use of his Bounty, To serve him with vigour and serenity of thought, To off [...]r him the sacri [...]ce of chast and pure Moditation, To give example of Christian sobriety to others, To be Christs frugall and dis­creet Almoner, To reign over her Af­fections and Lusts, To wean her self from the love of this World, To grow old in the service of God, These are her ex­cellent aims and endeavours; And ac­cordingly, they prosper with her, For as Solomon, asking only Wisdom, had riches and honour cast in, so Tempe­rance aiming directly at Gods service, collaterally procures her own advan­tage, And her events are as happy as her end was honourable.

[Page 179]She hath clear digestion, not like the Gourmand, whose afternoons and nights reproach his Meales, No soure Vapours revenge the sweetness of her Morsel, No Cholick or Crudities tor­ment her; she hath firm and vigorous Constitution, not like the Epicure, whose abrupt health resembles only the inter­valls of Frensies, Her health is entire, so that nothing but the soul takes Physick; she hath lightness of body, not charged with drosse and bulk, If she take a bruise, There is no resort of peccant humours, like that of Vermīne to Carrion, And if she get a wound, she hath no Ulcer, tha [...] bleeds Wine and Porrage; she hath even temperature, The Quartane fiend doth not haunt her, The Calenture doth not burn her, she i [...] not like Tinder to every spark of Infection; No [...]legme intercepts her breath, she takes no head Pills to purge the brain, nor sirrups, to ripen and void her Rheume, lest the Gan­green seise upon her Lungs; In sine, sh [...] is subject [...] to few Diseases, and none incu­rable, but Age.

[Page]She hath free and easie mirth, not like the surprisals of disbanded laughters, but such as exceeds not Moderation, Decen­cy, or it self; Her reason is still awake, and unclowded, No mists of prejudice are cast before her eyes, Neither is she in danger to put a fallacy upon others, or her self receive one; Her passions are curbed, and offer not to swell, She can reprove without anger, or be angry without sinning, And her temper is the wonder of those with whom she conver­ses; Her will, being unseduced by the Appetite, is simply obedient, and fol­lowes Conscience, with an implicite faith; Her soul is at perfect leisure to perform all its functions, Nay to receive divine impressions, and enlarge it self, a [...] if it were out of the body; Her affair [...], be they never so crabbed or difficult, en­tangle her not, but yield to her dili­gence, and prove only Entertainments, so as she hath nothing to interrupt her present happiness, or intercept her fu­ture.

And let none object, That many temperate men are far from arriving at [Page 281] these perfections, since, alas, Temp­rance is unhappily mistaken for a meer negative Vertue of not surfeiting, or Wine-bibbing; As for the simplicity of Diet, a Spartane Table, and the slender proportion of that which is enough, it is scarce known now a dayes; surely, our Bills of Mortality acquaint us not, how many digge their Graves with their teeth, who, I fear, are more in number, then those that fall by Sword, Famine, and Pestilence.

AMongst the Characters of heroicall Vertues, I may not omit one so e­minent, as that of thankfulness, since, he that exhorts others to be thankful, pleads the Cause both of God and Man.

A grear Vertue, said I, nay rather a great Duty, and but a little Vertue; since eminent Vertues are such only, as seem to supererogate, Or at least enlarge themselves, beyond the narrow Chanel of not offending.

Yet, I cannot concur in Opinion, with those that would have Gratitude to be a limb of Commutative Justice, no more then I esteem Bounty, a species of Commerce. But this I dare not affirm, that the unthankful are but Galley-slaves to the Law, and cannot pretend to so much, as natural Conscience; for it is [Page 183] observable, That even Beasts of Prey, that have no bowels of mercy, nor sense of Justice, have yet a kind of Religion to remember benefits, Nothing is unthank­ful, but evil Angels, and wicked men.

An Ungrateful man is a Felon to Rea­son, which recommends to him Grati­tude, (if possible) before Religion it self, And layes it as the Corner-stone o [...] naturall Divinity, which exalts Lex tali­onis, above all Lawes, and even teache [...] us to serve God, because he made and feeds us. Now, if we be thereby com­manded to do in Justice, as we would be done to, How much more are we di­rected to deal in Charity, as we have been dealt with? Especially since thank­fu [...]ness hath no need of Art, nor is tied to outward advantages, But is an Act of so great simplicity, as nothing but malice it self can prevaricate.

Ingratitude is the worst kind of disloyalty, and breach of Confidence, For injured benefits are like Jewels, secretly deposited with friends, who, for want of witnesse, never restore them; with this [Page 184] only difference, that there our honesty, here our piety is concerned.

Yet, let me not seem, in condemning the Vice, too much to eclipse the Ver­tue, For Gratitude is the most free and natural Issue of well-born souls, not al­lured with hopes of reward, nor extort­ed with penalties, but an invisible habit, which hath only conscience for its Jury, and God for its Judge, Parallel to Cha­rity, the Queen of Graces, whose glory it is, that she might safely have been un­charitable, Whose reward, to have ex­pected none.