The workes of Lucius Annæus Seneca, both morrall and naturall Containing, 1. His bookes of benefites. 2. His epistles. 3. His booke of prouidence. 4. Three bookes of anger. 5. Two bookes of clemencie. 6. His booke of a blessed life. 7. His booke of the tranquilitie of the minde. 8. His booke of the constancie of a wiseman. 9. His booke of the shortnesse of life. 10. Two bookes of consolation to Martia. 11. Three bookes of consolation to Heluia. 12. His booke of consolation to Polibius. 13. His seuen bookes of naturall questions. Translated by Tho. Lodge, D. in Physicke.

A TRACT OF BLES∣SED LIFE, WRITTEN BY LVCIVS ANNAEVS SENECA TO IVNIVS GALLO HIS BROTHER.

The Argument of IVSTVS LIPSIVS.

HEe wrote this Booke when he was olde, and set it downe for an Apologie against those that calumniated his welth and behauiour. He approoueth that Blessed life consisteth in vertue, yet that shee despiseth not these ex∣ternall things if they befall her. It is a loftie writing, and excellent in the parts thereof, and because it containeth golden sentences and excellent sayings. There are two parts thereof; First, what Blessed life is, and how a man may at∣taine thereunto. As touching the former, he denieth that it is to be sought, either in Opinion or Maners; if we keepe the ordinarie way, we stray the farther from her. Rea∣son onely is to be giuen care vnto, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saith that B••essed life is agr••••••ble to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that is placed in vertue, not in pleasure a•• EPICVRVS ••••••ld haue it, No•• and diff••••edly he refelleth this with the slaues thereof; so farre as h•••• will neither haue pleasur•• ioyned with vertue, but abolisheth this name vtterly; This till the sixteenth Chapter. Thence followeth the other part to the attainement therof•• therefore ••s o••••ly Vertue to be embra∣ced. And are the rest to be despised? He denieth it; He saith that externall things may be admitted, but not as the end. Yea, ••ee maint••••••eth, that the•• wh•• as yet are but in the way, and amongst the number of those that are pr••••••••ient, ha••e neede of some indul∣gence of fortune. Here cunningly and ••anfully enough defendeth he his owne cause, and induceth an aduersarie to say: Why hast thou 〈…〉〈…〉 of Vert••••? hast thou not other helpes. Why hast thou seruants, Mo••ey, F••r••••s, and H••••shold-stuffe? Hee answereth diuersly? And first of all that he is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wise man, but that hee endeuoureth to be wise. Afterwards for these worthy men, PLATO, ZE••LO, ARISTOTLE, against whom in times past these were obiected. Vertue is a ••••igh matter; They are to bee honoured who labour to ascend, although du••ing their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, they fall••r are hindred. Then purposely speaketh he of Riches, whether a wise 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ought to haue them; From the one and twentie Chapter. And he auerreth that they are had but not beloued, yet gotten ho∣nestly

that they are, and must be spent b••••••tifully•• Hee whetteth his Stile against th••se l••ng-tongued bablers, and vnder the person of SOCRATES, armeth the edge of ••is Stile against them•• But the end is wanting, and those things that are vsually added, are of an other mans writing, and of a different Argument••

CHAP. I.

ALL men brother Gallio are desirous to liue happi∣ly,* 1.1 yet blinde are they in ••ore-seeing that which maketh the life blessed & happy: and so difficult a matter is it to attaine this blessed life, that the swifter euery man is caried with adesire to com∣passe her, the farther off departeth hee from her, if he haue failed in the way: which when it lea∣deth vs to the contrarie, the very swiftnesse ther∣of is the cause of our greater distance from her. First of all therefore we ought to consider what that is which we require: then to looke about vs by what way wee may more speedily attaine thereunto, being assured that in our journie (so the way bee true and straight) to vndrstand how much wee haue daily profited, and howe neerer wee are vnto that whereunto our naturall desire impelleth vs. As long as wee wander hether and th∣ther and followe not our guide, but the dissonant bruite and clamour of of those that call on vs to vndertake different wayes, our short life is wearied and worne away amongst errours•• although we labour day and night to get vs a good minde. Let vs therefore aduise both, whether wee tend, and by which way we pretend; and walke forward vnder the conduct of some wise man who is exactly instructed and practized in those pathes which wee are to tract. For the condition of this voyage is farre different from other peregrinations: for in them if any certain•• place be limited, and we doe but inquire and question with the inhabitants of that place, they will not suffer vs to wander; for here the worst way, and that which seemeth the most shortest and vsuall doth most of all deceiue vs. There is nothing, therefore that is more to be preuented by vs, then that we follow not like innocent sheepe, the troope of those that walke before vs, walking forward not whether we should addresse themselues, but whether we are led by other men. But there is nothing that entangleth vs in greater mi∣series, then that we couple & apply our selues to euerie rumour, supposing those thinges to be the best which is most approued and receiued by the conceit of all men, and wherof there are most examples, and liue not according to reason, but only according to other mens fashion. From thence proceedeth this so great heape of men tumbling one vpon an other. That which falleth out in a great presse of men, when the people themselues, throng themselues, where no man so falleth, but that he draweth downe an other after him, and the foremost are the cause of the ruine of those that follow: this mayst thou obserue, and see it fall out in euerie estate of life. There is no man that erreth to himselfe, but is eyther the cause or Authour of other mens errour. For much are we hurt be∣cause wee apply our selues to those that goe before vs, and whilest euerie man had rather belieue, then judge, wee neuer ••udge of our liues but content our selues alwayes to belieue: thus errour deliuered vnto vs from hand to hand,

vexeth and ouerturneth vs, and wee perish by other mens examples. But wee shall be healed, prouided only that we separate our selues from the vulgar, but now the people stand out against reason in defence of their owne errour. This therefore commeth to passe that is vsuall in Common Assemblies, wherein, those men whose voices made the Pretor, admire to heare him named; when the inconstant fauour of such a multitude hath whirled it selfe about. Wee ap∣proue and condemne one and the same thing. This is the end of all judgments in decision whereof diuers men giue their opinions.

CHAP. II.

* 1.2WHen the question is of happie life, thou must not answere mee ac∣cording to the custome of those debates which are censured by voyces. This part seemeth the greater; for therefore is it the worst: Humane affaires are not disposed so happily that the best things please the most men. It is an argument of the worst cause when the common sort applaudeth it. Let vs enquire what is best done, not what is most vsually done; and what planteth vs in the possession of eternall felicitie, not what is ordinarily allowed of by the multitude, which is the worst inter∣preter of truth. I call the multitude, as well those that are attired in white, as those that are clothed other wayes, for I examine not the colours of the gar∣ments wherewith the bodies are clothed, I trust not mine eyes, to informe me what a man is, I haue a more better and truer light, whereby I shal distinguish truth from falshood. Let the soule find out the good of the soule. If once she may haue breathing time to retire her selfe into her selfe, O how will shee con∣fesse vnto her selfe, after she hath beene examined by her selfe and say: What∣so••uer I haue done, yet I had rather it should be vndone; Whatsoeuer I haue said when I recollect it, I am ashamed of it in others; Whatsoeuer I wished I repute it to be the execration of mine enemies; Whatsoeuer I feared, good gods, how better was it then that which I desired? I haue quarrelled with many men, and (if any societie be amongst euill men) I haue altered their hatreds and drawne my selfe into fauour with them; and yet as yet I am not friendes with my selfe. I haue indeuoured to the vttermost to get in fauour with the multi∣tude, and make my selfe knowne vnto euerie man by some noble action: what other thing did I but oppose my selfe against weapons, and shew hatred a place wherein he might bite me? Seest thou these who praise eloquence, that follow riches, that ••latter authoritie, that extoll power? all these are enemies or can be enemies, for in effect they are all one. How great soeuer the number be of those that admire, as great is there number who doe enuie.

CHAP. III.

* 1.3WHY rather seeke I not some thing out, which is good in vse that I may finde in my minde, not shew in outward appearance? These things where at we gaze, these things whereat we ••taie, and with admiration one man sheweth vnto another, doe out∣wardly shine, but are inwardly miserable. Let vs seeke our some∣what that is good not in appearance, but solide and vnited, and fairest in that

which appeareth the least. Let vs discouer this, neyther is it farre from vs, wee shall finde it. Yet hadst thou need to know whether thou shouldest stretch thy hand. But ••ow as if we were in darknes we passe by these things that are neerest vs, and stumble vpon those things which we desire. But least I draw thee thorow a Labyrinth I will let slippe other mens opinions, for it were too long a matter to reckon them vp and confute them, and let thee know our owne. And when I tell thee ours, I will not tie my selfe to any one of our principall Stoickes: I haue authoritie enough to speake what I thinke, I will therefore follow some one, I will command another to giue a reason of his, and happily being cited after all others, I will disalow none of those things which the former haue de∣creed, and I will say: This thinke I ouer and beside, and in the meane while fol∣lowing the common consent of the Stoickes; I will consent to Nature which is the mother of all thinges. For it is wisedome not to wander from her, but to forme our selues according to her Law and Example. The life then is happie which is according to her nature, which can no otherwise happē thē if the mind be first of all sound, and in perpetuall possession of her health. Againe, if shee be strong, and vehement, and fierce, and patiently likewise apt for the times, cu∣rious of the bodie, and those thinges that appertaine thereunto, yet not ouer carefull or diligent in those things which maintaine life, disposed to vse the pre∣sents of Fortune, without admiration of any thing: without wondering at a∣ny of them, no wayes inclined to seruitude. Thou vnderstandest although I aime it not, that from thence there followeth a perpetuall tranquilitie and li∣bertie, driuing away farre from vs all those things that eyther prouoke or terri∣fie vs much. For instead of the fraile pleasures, (and for those thinges that are small and friuolous, and that hurt vs at that time, when wee make vse of them•• to satisfie our passions) there succeedeth an excellent joy assured, and a continnall peace and repose of the soule, and a greatnesse of the minde ac∣companied with mildnesse. For all furie proceedeth from infirmitie.

CHAP. IIII.

A Man may likewise define our good after an other sort that is to say expresse the same thing in other termes.* 1.4 Euen as one and the same Armie sometimes spreddeth it selfe out at large, sometimes restraineth and locketh vp her selfe in a little place, eyther ben∣deth her selfe like a Crescent with hornes on eyther side and hollow in the midst; or marcheth in a Batalion hauing wings to warrant them, and howsoeuer she is disposed, yet hath she alwayes the same force and resolu∣tion to maintaine the partie for which she is leuied, so our definition of the So∣ueraigne good may sometimes be extended out a farre, sometimes comprised in few words and gathered as it were into it selfe. It will all come to one if I say: The Soueraigne good is a minde despising casualties, and content with vertue: or an inuincible force of the minde well experienced in the affaires of this. World, peaceable in his actions, full of humanitie and regard of those with whom she conuerseth. It pleaseth vs likewise to define it thus, that we cal him a blessed man, who esteemeth nothing eyther good or euil, except a mind eyther good or euill, a respecter of honestie, content with vertue, whom neyther ca∣sualties extol nor depresse, who knowes no other greater good then that which he can giue himselfe, who reputeth it for a true pleasure to contemne pleasures. Thou maiest if thou wilt expatiate, turne this definition into one or two other

sorts prouided that the principall remaine. For what forbiddeth vs to esteeme him happie that hath his spirit free, raysed, assured, and firme, estranged from all feare and desire, that esteemeth nothing but vertue and disdaineth nothing but vice? All other the base multitude of things, neyther detracting any thing nor adding ought to blessed life, come and goe without increase or detained of the chiefest good. He that hath layed so good a foundation, shall bee alwayes followed whether he will or no, with a continuall joy, with a profound content that proceedeth from excellent thoughts, because hee contenteth himselfe which hee possesseth, neyther desireth any more then that hee hath at home why should he make a scruple to change willingly the light friuolous and assu∣••ed, motions and pleasures of the bodie with goods, so certaine as these other are? that day hee shall recence no pleasure that very day shall hee conceiue no griefe.

CHAP. V.

* 1.5THou maist then see into what dangerous a••d miserable seruitude he falleth who suffereth pleasures and sorrowes (two vnfaithfull and cruell commanders) to posses•••• him successiuely. We must therefore issue out and find libertie and this doth no other thing giue vs then the neglect of Fortune. Then shall that inestimable good arise, namely the repose of the minde retired into an assured place, and mounted so high that she seeth all the mists of errours incontinently, scatter themselues in such sort that from the knowledge of the truth, there proceedeth a great and constant joy a sweetnesse and freedome of conscience wherein the vertuous man shall take pleasure not as they are goods, but as the fruits which proceed from the ground of that good which is in him. Because I haue begunne to discourse liberally, I say that he may be called blessed, who by the benefite of his reason, neyther feareth nor desireth any thing. I make mention of reason because stones, and beasts are both of them destitute of feare and sadnesse, and yet no man will say that they are happie Creatures, because they haue no sence or vnderstanding of felicitie, put into this ranke, those men whose dulnesse of nature, and ignorance of themselues hath drawne them into the number of sheepe and beasts. There is no difference betwixt these and them, because the one haue no reason and the other their reason depraued, and if she discourseth it is onely to weaken and ruinate her selfe. For no man can be called blessed, who is exiled from the truth. That therefore is a blessed life which is grounded vpon an vpright, certaine, and immutable judgment. For then is the minde pure, and ex••mpt from all euils; when it hath no feeling of any rentings or prickings. Whatsoeuer resolued to persist there, wheresoeuer she is setled, and resolute to maintaine her abode, in spight of wrathfull and r••pyning Fortune. For in re∣gard of plesure, although it be dispersed in euery place, although she come from euery part, and trie and attempt by all meanes whereby she may intangle vs, ••yther in whole or in part: what man is he amongst men that hath any impre••s¦sion of manhood in him, that will suffer himselfe to bee flattered and tickled therewith day and night, and forsaking the soule, will haue a care of the bodie?

CHAP. VI.

BVT the soule likewise (saith hee) shall haue her pleasures.* 1.6 Let her enjoy them, and let her sit as Iudge ouer dissolution and plea∣sures. Let her glut herselfe withall those thinges that are wont to delight the sences. Furthermore, let her looke backe to those things that are past, and remembring her selfe of her decaied plea∣sures let her enjoy those that are nee••est her, extend her hand to the ••uture, ru∣ling her hopes, and lifting vp her thoughts to that which is to come whilest the bodie tumbleth in delights and surfets. This in my judgment is a meere mise∣rie, because it is a madnesse to imbrace the euill in stead of the good. Neyther is any man blessed without health, neyther any man healthie, that longeth for hurtfull, and letted healthfull things passe. He therefore is blessed, who hath a right judgmēt. Blessed is he that is contented with the present whatsoeuer they be, that is a friend to his owne affaires, blessed is hee who in the gouernment of his whole life giueth ••are vnto reason. As for those that haue said that the So∣ueraigne good consisteth in pleasure it behoueth them to consider how sordid and abject a place it is wherein they haue lodged a thing so precious. For their excuse they alleadge that a man cannot separate pleasure from Vertue, and they say likewise that no man can liue honestly except hee bee pleasant and jouiall: and that to be joyfull and honest, is one and the same thing. Yet see I not how these two things may be coupled together. And why I pray you may not plea∣sure be deuided from vertue? Forsooth, because euery beginning of good pro∣ceedeth from Vertue. From the rootes hereof euen these things spring which you loue, and desire so much. But if these were inseperable, wee should not see that somethinges are pleasing, but yet not honest, and some things most honest but difficult and such as may not be recouered but by dolour and paine.

CHAP. VII.

ADde hereunto likewise that pleasure intermixeth it selfe with a most vicious life,* 1.7 but vertue admitteth it not: It is with pleasure yea for pleasures sake that some are vnhappie. Which would not come to passe, if pleasure had intermixed it selfe with vertue, which vertue often misseth neuer needeth. Why vnite you thinges different, nay more, contrarie. Vertue is a thing high, kingly, inuincible, infatigable; pleasure hum∣ble, seruile, weake, fraile, whose actions and bou••ds are Tauernes and Brothell houses. You shall find Vertue in the Temple, in the market place, in the Court, in the Court of Guard smoutered in dust, ••••d with heat, hauing hard hands: pleasure of times lying hidden and affecting darknesse about bathes and Hot-houses, and such places as feare the Constable, daintie, eff••minate, souzed in Wine, and P••rfumes, pale, painted, and ••e ••••abor••d with medicine. Th•• chiefest good is immortall, it cannot perish, neyther hath it satietie, ney∣ther repentance, for the just mind is neuer al••ered•• he is neuer hatefull to him∣selfe, neyther being her selfe the best, hath 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ch••nged any thing. But pleasure at that time when she most delighteth•• is extinguished•• Neyther taketh shee vp great roome, and therefore she quickly filleth and loatheth, and after the first assault pineth away, and as their is nothing c••••taine, whose nature is in motion

so can there not bee any substance of that thing that commeth and passeth quickly, and such as is like to perish in the verie vse thereof. For he hath attai∣ned thether where he should end, and in beginning hee alreadie regardeth the end.

CHAP. VIII.

* 1.8FVrthermore the euill haue their pleasures, as well as the good. And the basest take no lesse contentment in their absurdities, then great men doe in things that are excellent. And therefore the An∣cients haue commanded, that we should follow the better and not the most pleasing life. For Nature must gouerne vs, she it is that ruleth and counsaileth reason. To liue then happily and according to Nature is one and the same thing. I will now tell you what this is. If wee carefully and confidently conserue the goods of the bodie, according as wee ought, and as they are agreeable vnto Nature, as gifts that haue no continuance, but commu∣nicable, from day to day: If wee inthrall our selues not to their seruitude, and if those that haue beene distributed to our neighbours possesse vs not•• if that which is agreeable vnto vs, and giuen vs as an ouerplus to the bodie serueth vs only in that Nature, as spies and forlorne hopes in an Armie: in briefe, if they serue vs and command vs not, then may wee say that they are profitable and necessarie for the soule. A man that is entire ought not to be surmounted with exteriour things, he must admire nothing but himself, he ought to be confident, disposed against all casualties, a composer of his own life, and see that his resolu∣tion be accompanied with science and constancie, that that which he once hath conceiued, remain vnaltered, and that no exception accompanie his resolution. It is vnderstood likewise although I adde it not, that such a man bee addressed and ordered as he ought, gracious and magnificent in all his entertainments the true reason shall be ingrafted in his sences, and take from thence his principles. For from thence it is and from no other place, that shee extendeth her selfe, to apprehend the truth, and afterwardes returneth into her selfe. The VVorld likewise that imbraceth and comprehendeth all things, and God who is the Go∣uernour of this World, extendeth himselfe truly to exterior things, and yet hee returneth in euerie part intirely into himselfe. Let our minde doe the like, that after shee hath serued the senses, and by the meanes thereof, hath extended it selfe to externall things, she may possesse her selfe, in briefe that she may l••e and stay her selfe vpon the chiefest good. By this meanes shee shall become a facultie and power according with her selfe; and that certaine reason shall arise which is neither shaken nor extrauagant in her opinion••, apprehensions or perswasions, but being well ordered and well agreed with her parts with which shee saith, (if we may so say) in the same time, shee hath attained the fulnes of her felicitie. For shee hath no way that is rugged or slipperie to passe thorow, neyther any wherein she may stumble or fall. She shall doe all that which she listeth, and no∣thing shall befall her that is vnexspected, but all that which she shall doe shall turne to her good, easily, addressedly, and without delay. For idlenesse and want of resolution discouer contradiction and inconstancie; thou maiest therefore boldly maintaine that the peace of conscience is the Soueraigne good, because it must needes follow, that the vertues remaine there where consent and vnion haue their abode, vices at are oddes amongst themselues.

CHAP. IX.

BVT thou likewise (saith he) honourest Vertue for no other cause but for that thou expectest some pleasure thereby.* 1.9 First Vertue is not therefore sought after, because shee bringeth with her some pleasure, for she produceth it not, and yet is not without it. Ney∣ther labo••reth she for this, but her labour is, although she hath an other aime to attaine this likewise. Euen as in a field that is ploughed vp for Corne, some flowers spring vp amongst the good graines, and yet no labour is bestowed on this herbe, although it delight ••he eye. The purpose of him that sowed the Corne was farre otherwise, this came by chance: so pleasure is not the reward or cause of Vertue but an accession vnto Vertue. Neither is it plea∣sing because it delighteth; but because it is pleasing it delighteth. The chie∣fest good consisteth and is grounded on iudgement & the habit of a good mind, which hauing fulfilled his habitude, and confined himself within his limits, the chiefest good is consummate, neither desireth any other thing more. For with∣out all them is nothing, no more then beyond the end. Thou art therefore de∣ceiued when thou askest me, what that is for which I require Vertue: for thou seekest for somewhat that is aboue the chiefest. Thou askest mee what I pre∣tend from Vertue? her selfe: for nothing is better, she is the reward of her selfe. Is this a small thing, when I say vnto thee, that the Soueraigne good is an in∣flexible vigour, a prouidence, a firme disposition, a libertie, a concord, and beau∣tie of the soule? doest thou looke for any thing more, whereunto these may be referred? why namest thou pleasure vnto me? I seeke for the good of a man, not of the belly, which is more disordered then any bruit beast.

CHAP. X.

THou pretendest to be ignorant (saith he) of that which I say:* 1.10 For I denie that any man may liue pleasingly, except he liue honestly likewise: which cannot befall bruit beastes, which measure their good by their bellies. I protest I tell thee both painely and pub∣liquely, that this life which I call pleasant, cannot consist without the adjection of Vertue. But who knoweth not that euen the very foolishest amongst you are the fullest of pleasure, and that iniquitie aboundeth in delight, and that the minde it selfe not only suggesteth some kindes of pleasure, but al∣so many? First insolence and ouer great esteeme of a mans selfe, a pride surpas∣sing all other, a blind and improuident loue of that which a man hath, affluent delights, a joy proceeding from trifling and childish occasions, detraction, and arrogancie, rejoycing in contumelies, sloth and dissolution of the sluggish mind; that is benummed in it selfe. But these doth Vertue discusse, shee puls vs by the eare, and estimateth pleasures before she admi•• them, neyther careth she much for those, she hath entertained, (although she admit them) neyther is deligh∣ted in the vse of them, but temperance is joyfull: but when as temperance di∣minisheth pleasures, she injurieth the chiefest good in medling with the same. Thou imbracest pleasure, I moderate it. Thou enjoyest pleas••r•• I vse it: Thou thinkest it to bee the chiefest good I scarcely de••me it good. Thou doest all

things for pleasures sake and I nothing when I say that I doe nothing for plea∣sures sake I speake of that Wise man to whome alone thou grantest pleasure.

CHAP. XI.

* 1.11BVT I call not him a wise man that is subject to any passion a∣boue all things, if he be a vassall to pleasure. For being subject vnto her how shall he resist labour, danger, pouertie, and so ma∣ny tempests as storme about this life? how shall hee indure the sight of death and sorrow, how shall hee sustaine the assaults of this World & of so many other dreadful aduersaries, if he be conquered by such an effeminate enemie? He will doe all that which pleasure perswadeth him vn∣to. Go to: seest thou not how manie follies she will perswade him to. Shee can∣not saist thou perswade any thing vndecently, because she is accompanied with Vertue. Seest thou not againe what the chiefest good should be if he had neede of such a Guard to make him good. But how can Vertue gouerne pleasure, when she followeth her when as it is the part of a seruant to attend, and of a Master to commaund. You make her the seruant that should commaund. But you preferre Vertue vnto a goodly office, you make her a taster to pleasures. But we will see whether Vertue bee lodged amongst those who haue done her so many outrages since she can no more be called Vertue, if she hath giuen ouer her place. In the meane while (for it is that whereof we intr••at) I will shew that there are diuers voluptuous men on whom Fortune hath powred all her goods whom thou must need, confesse to be euill. Looke vpon Nomentanus and Api∣cius two carefull ingrossers (as these men call them) of whatsoeuer delicate ey∣ther Land or Sea affordeth, and who present vpon their tables all the choice Creatures, that are fit for meate in euery Countrie. Behold these very men who from there beds, behold their Kitchins, who fill their eares with Musicke, their eyes with pleasing shewes, and delight their pallats with sundrie sauces, with soft and gentle fomentations, all their bodie is suppled, and least in the meane while their nostrils should be idle, that very place is filled with diuers odours, wherein the funerall banquet of dissolution is celebrated. Thou wilt say that these men haue their pleasures, yet are they not at their ease, because they re∣joyce not in goodnesse.

CHAP. XII.

* 1.12EVill will befall them (saiest thou) because diuers thinges happen in the interim which trouble the minde, and contrarie opinions shall disquiet the spirits, which I grant that it is so. Yet notwith∣sta••ding those very fooles. Those inconstant fellowes whom re∣pentance attendeth at the heels receiuing great pleasure that we must needs cōfesse that they are so far from al trouble as from a good mind and (that which befalleth many) they are pleasant fooles, and merie mad men. But on the contrarie part, the pleasures of wise men are remisse and modest, feeble e∣nough secret and lesse obserued, because they are not sought after; and if they come without calling, they are lesse made account of or entertained. For they

intermix•• the pleasures of this life, as men are wont to mingle ••heir serious mat∣ters with sports and pleasant di••courses. Let them desist therfore to joyne in∣conueniences, and to implicate Vertue with Pleasure, for by such fals•• opini∣ons they seduce those who are alreadie to much corrupted with vice. The one of the••e abandoned vnto his pleasures alwayes drunke and tumbling on the Earth, knowing well that he liueth voluptuously: belieueth also that hee fol∣loweth the Tract of Vertue: because he beleeueth that pleasure cannot bee se∣parated from Vertue, ••nd afterwardes intitleth his vice•• with the name of wisdome, and publisheth those things which should be hidden. So these kind of men who haue not learned it of the Epicure, surfet in their delights, and be∣ing drowned in vices, hide their voluptuous••esse in the bosome of Philoso∣phie: and haue their recourse thether where they heare that pleasure is praised. Neyther estimate they rightly (for such vndoubtedly is my opinion) how sober and moderate his pleas••e is: but flie vnto the name seeking out a patronage and excuse for their lusts. They therefore loose that one good which they had in euils which is the shame of offending. For they prayse these thinges whereof they were ashamed and glorie in their vice and therefore youth cannot rowse and recouer it selfe, when they ascribe so faire a title to so foule an errour.

CHAP. XIII.

THis is the cause why this prayse of pleasure is so p••rnicious be∣cause honest precepts remaine buried hereby,* 1.13 and that which most corrupteth is most apparant. But my opinion is (although I speake it to the disgust of those of my Sect) that the precepts of the Epicure are holy, right, and if th••u examine them more neerely seuere enough. For he scantleth the wing of pleasure very much, ney∣ther giueth her any libertie, but imposeth the same Law vpon voluptuousnesse that wee doe vpon Vertue. Hee commandeth her to obay Nature, but that which sufficeth Nature is too lit••le for dissolution. What is it therefore? hee that calleth slothfull idlenesse, and the varietie of gourmandize and dissoluti∣on, felicitie; he seeketh a faire pretext for an euill thing, and whilest he commeth thether being shrouded vnder a name of respect he followeth pleasure not that which he hath learned; but that which hee had in her selfe, and thinking his vices had beene taught him in some Schoole, he pleaseth himselfe in them, not fearefully, not obscurely, yea he surfetteth on them in the sight and presence of all men, I will not therefore say as diuers of our Stoickes doe, that the Epi∣cures Sect teacheth nothing but wickednesse, but this I say that it hath an euill report and is vndeseruedly defamed. No man can know this thing except he be ••dmitted to know the secrets of this Schoole. The front and that which ap∣peareth outwardly is the cause why men detract the same, and speake so sini∣••terly of it. It is as it were a valiant man clothed in an effeminate robe. As long as thou maintainest modestie, Vertue is in securitie. Thou wilt say that thy bodie is not addicted to any vncleanesse, but thou holdest as (some say) the Drumme in thy hand, and awakenest others to doe euill. Make choice there∣fore of an honest title; and let the inscription be such as may incite the minde to repell those vices which weaken, as presently as they are intertained, whosoeuer approcheth Vertue, he giueth hope of some generous thing. He that followeth

pleasure seemeth to bee weake, broken, effeminate, disposed to doe wicked∣ly. Except some man decipher vnto him what pleasures are, to the end hee may know which of them are limited within a naturall desire: which are carried away head-long and are infinite, and the more they are fulfilled the lesse are they satisfied. Well then let Vertue leade the way, and our steppes shall bee assured. Ouer-great pleasure is hurtfull, in Vertue it is not to be fea∣red that there should bee any thing excessiue, for shee her selfe onely is the meane. That which is tired with his owne greatnesse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 not good.

CHAP. XIIII.

* 1.14BVT to those that haue a reasonable Nature, what better thing then reason may be proposed? If this vnion bee agreeable, and if a man will trauell in such companie towardes happie life, let Ver∣tue goe before and pleasure follow after, as the shadow doth the bodie. It is a small matter for a great minde to giue pleasure for a Hand-maid to attend on Vertue, which is the most honourablest Mistresse that a man may meete with all. Let Vertue march before and carrie the Ensigne, yet notwithstanding, we shall haue pleasure, although wee bee Masters and gouer∣nours of the same. Shee will presse vs to grant her something, but shee cannot constraine vs thereunto. But they that haue giuen the superioritie to pleasure, haue wanted both, For they loose Vertue•• Moreouer they haue not pleasure; but pleasure is Lord ouer them, with whose want they are eyther tormented, or else in aboundance strangled. Wretched if they be forsaken by her, and more wretched if they be ouerpressed. Like these who are entangled in the Sy••tes: Now are they left on drie Land, presently hurred away with the violence of the streame. But this falleth out thorow too much intemperance, and the blind loue we beare vnto the same. He that requireth euill for good, casteth himselfe into great danger if hee obtaine the same. Euen as wee hunt wilde beastes with labour and hazard, and when we haue caught them it is a hard matter to keepe them: for oftentimes they teare their Masters in peices; so fareth it with those who haue great pleasures, for they turne to their great miseries; and surprize them when they imagine they haue the mastrie ouer them. Which the more and greater they be, so the lesse is he, and more subject and slaue vnto many whom the common sort call happie. To continue and prosecute the similitude which I haue proposed: Euen as hee that searcheth the haunts of wilde beastes and accounts it a great matter to catch such dumbe Creatures in his nets, and enuiron some great Forrest with a kennell of hounds, to the end to follow their Tract, forsaketh his better affaires, and renounceth many other offices: so hee that followeth pleasure, neglecteth all other things, respecteth not his former libertie, but dependeth on his belly, neyther buyeth hee pleasures for himselfe; but selleth himselfe to pleasures.

CHAP. XV.

BVT what (saith h••) letteth Vertue and vol••pt••ousnesse to bee con••ounded in one,* 1.15 to the end that from them both the Soue∣raigne good might be deriued, so that it might bee one t••in•• to be honest•• and to be pleasant. Because ther•• cannot bee a par•• of honestie which is not honest, neither shall the chiefest good haue her sinceritie, if she discouer ought in her selfe that is vnlike the better. Ney∣ther is that joy which proceedeth from Vertue, although it be good, a part of the cheifest and absolute good. No more then mirth and tranquilitie, although they are deriued from most excellent causes. For these are goods: yet such as attend the Sou••raigne good, but perfect it no••. But whosoeuer will associate Vertue, and pleasure, and not equall them; by the frailtie of the one he morti∣fieth all••that which is actiue in th•• other. Finally he inthralleth that inuincible libertie that knoweth nothing more precious then her selfe. For he beginneth to haue need of Fortune which is the greatest seruitude of all others. And hee is attended by a doubtfull, fearefull, and susptious life, fearefull of casual∣ties, and suspended vpon the moments of time. Thou giuest not Vertue a setled and immoueable foundation, but commanndest her to stand in a sl••pperie place. But what is so vncertaine as the expectation of casualties, and the varie∣tie of the bodie, and such things as affect the bodie? How can hee obay God, and entertaine euery thing that hapneth to him with a good minde, and cease to complaine of Fate, and be a faithfull interpreter of his owne casualties, if he be shaken with the smallest assaults of pleasures or sorrowes? neyther can he be a good tutor or defender of his Countrie, nor a maintaner of his friends, if hee be inclined to pleasures. Thether therefore doth the chiefest good ascend from whence she may not bee drawne by any force. Whereby there is neyther en∣trance giuen to sorrow, hope, or feare, nor to any other thing which may in∣damnifie or lessen the greatnesse of the chiefest good. And only Vertue may ascend thereunto, by her steppes this steepie rocke must be broken, shee will stand stifly, and whatsoeuer shall happen will endure it•• not onely patien•• but also willing, knowing that euery difficultie of time is but the Law of Na∣ture. And as a good Souldier will endure wounds, number his scarres•• and though thrust throw with many weapons, will dying loue that Captaine for whose sake h•• breatheth his last: so will Vertue haue this Ancient precept in minde, March after God. But whosoeuer complaineth, weepeth, and mour∣neth, is compelled to doe that which he is commanded; and notwithstanding is violently enforced to doe that which is enjoyned him? But what madnesse is it rather to bee drawne then to follow? As great in truth•• as if thorow sortish∣nesse and ignorance of thy condition, thou shouldest lament, because some mis∣fortune is befalne thee, or shouldest be amazed and diffident, that thou couldest not endure that•• which hapneth as well to the good as to the euill•• that is to say sicknesse, death of parents and friends•• weaknesse, and such other incumbrances of mortall life. Let vs couragiously endure all that which the common condi∣tion of all things that are created submitteth vs vnto. We are obliged vnto this, to endure all the accidents of our life without troubling our selues with those casualties, which we know how to auoid. We are borne vnder a Royall domi∣nation. It is libertie to obey God.

CHAP. XVI.

* 1.16TRue felicitie therefore is placed in Vertue. What wil she counsaile thee to? That thou thinke that neyther good or euill that hap∣neth vnto thee, neyther by Vertue nor by malice. Afterwardes that by the meanes of God thou remaine alwayes ••irme and con∣fident against euill•• and that as far•••• as breath in thy power thou follow God. What then is that which is promised thee, if thou behauest thy self•• after this manner? Great thinges and such as are answerable to those that are diuine. Thou shalt be enforced in nothing•• Thou shalt want nothing, thou shalt be free, assured and exempt from all dammage•• thou shalt vndertake no∣thing in vaine: thou shalt doe that which thou pleasest without trouble or dis∣turbance. All thinges shall fall out as thou wishest: Aduersitie shall not touch thee. What then? shall Vertue onely which i•• thus perfect and diuine suffice to liue happily? And why should it not suffice? I say this, it is more then suffi∣cient. For what can he want that is contented with euery thing and desireth no∣thing whatsoeuer? he that hath gathered all things that are his into himselfe; hath no need of any externall thing. But he that tendeth vnto Vertue although he hath gotten the greater part of his way, yet hath he need of some indulgence and fauour of Fortune, who as yet is entangled amidst the cares of this life, and hath not as yet acquit himselfe of those bondes which tie him captiue to this World. What difference then is there, some are tied, some are lockt vp, and som•• are fettered. But hee that hath gotten more high, and is as it were lifted vp from the Earth draweth his chaine, being as yet not at full libertie, and repu∣ted for a man that is wholly free.

CHAP. XVII.

* 1.17IF ther••fore any one of these that barke at Philosophie alleage that which they are accustomed, why then speakest thou better then thou liuest? whence commeth it that thou flatterest a man more greater then thy selfe? that thou esteemest money to be a necessa∣rie aide, that thou art moued if thou loosest the same, that thou we••pest if thou hearest news of the death of thy wife or of thy friend, that thou art glad if thou bee praised and spoken well of in all places, and that detractions torment thee? Why are thy Countrie grounds better trimmed then the natu∣rall vse requireth? why kee••est thou no ordinary rule in taking thy repast? what meaneth thy house be••ter furnished then other mens? What mooueth thee to drinke Wine more older then thy selfe•• why is euery thing so well ordered in thy hous••? whence commeth it that thou plantest trees, which serue for no o∣ther vse but for shade? whence is it that thy wife weareth the reuenew of a rich family hanging at her cares? And what is the cause that thy Pages are so richly apparelled? why hast thou an art in thy house to know how to serue the table, and that thy plate is not set vpon thy boord rashly, and at euerie mans pleasure, but is serued in by courses, and that thou hast a caruer to cut vp thy dainties? Adde hereunto if thou wilt•• Why hast thou goods beyond S••as? And why art thou Master of so many goods that thou knowest not how to number them? Art thou so dishonest and negligent that thou knowest not three or foure

of thy seruants? or so dissolu•••• that thou hast them in so great number that thy memorie sufficeth not to contain•• their names? Hereafter I will assist thee in speaking euill of me, and besides this will propose against my selfe, more then thou thinkest•• For the present, behold what answer I wil make thee. I am not wise (and to satisfie thy displeasure the b••tter) I shall not be wise. I require not therefore of my selfe to be equall with the ••est, but to be better then the worst. It sufficeth me ••o cut of day by day some part of my vices, and to checke my imperfection••; my health neither is, nor shall be entire. I prepare vngu••nts but no exact remedies for my paine of the gou••e, contenting my self if it trouble me not often, and that it bee losse furious and burning then it is•• I•• I bee compared with thee, for swiftnesse of pa••e I am but a weake runner.

CHAP. XVIII.

I Speake not this for my selfe (for I am drown••d in vices) but fo•• him that alreadie hath gott••n ground.* 1.18 Thou spe••kest, saist thou in one kinde but beleeuest in another. This hath beene repro∣ched by some leud companions, enemies of all good men to Pla∣to, to the Epicure and to Zeno. For all these shewed how wee ought to liue, and not how they themselues liued, I speake of Vertue not of my selfe. When I blame vices I first of all reprooue mine owne, and when I may possibly I will liue as I ough••. This malignitie infected with diuers poysons shall not driue me from my laudable dessignes. This venome which you vomit out against others, and where with you poyson your selues shall not hinder me from praysing that life, according to which I know that I ought to gouerne my selfe, although I gouerne not my selfe in that sort as I ought therein. Your malignitie (I tell you) shall not restraine me from adorning that Vertue, which I follow not, although it be estranged and farre off from me•• Shall I expect that reproach, shall I in any sort restraine her handes which neyther respected Ruti∣lius, nor forbare Cato? Why should not any man in these mens opinion, ••ee ouer rich to whom Demetrius the Cynicke seemed not poore enough? O exact person and aduersarie to all the desires of Nature, so farre as he forbad himselfe to demand those things from the vse whereof he had resolued to abstaine. For he maintaineth that the wiseman wanteth nothing. Markest thou this? he pro∣fessed not the science of Vertue but of pouertie.

CHAP. XIX.

THey denie that Diodorus the Philosopher and the Epicure who not long since hastened his own death,* 1.19 by cutting his throat with his owne hands, followed not in this act the Doctrine of the Epi∣cures. Some impute this vnto furie, some vnto ••olly, and vaine glorie. He contrariwise content and ••urnished with a good con∣science hath giuen testimonie to himselfe in departing out of this life, and hath prased the repose of his dayes and arriued at the port, pronouncing that which you haue heard, in dispight of your teeth and ••hat which you your selues also must say when your turne commeth.

Long haue I liu'd and fully h•••••• I ended, That race of life that Fortune first commanded.

You dispute of an other mans life, of an other ma••s death, and barke like little Dogges, against the names of great and laudable men, as if you met with men that were vnknowne. For it is expedient for you, that no man should seeme good, because an other mans vertue should not reproch your iniquities. To your great hearts griefe you compare famous things with your absurdities, ne••∣ther perceiue you that this boldnesse of yours woundeth you wounderfully•• For if the Schollers of Vertue ••ee couetous, voluptuous and ambitious, what name shall we allot you, who haue the very name of Vert••••? You obi•••••• that no man doth that which he t••••••heth and that he doth other wise then he spea∣keth. Is this to be wondred at? Considering that they propose great and valo∣rous things, which are aboue all the tempests of the world, and striue to nayle themselues to the Crosse, wherein euery one of you hath planted some nayle: yea, before they are at the place of punishment, they are content to bee tied to any wood that they meete withall. They that doe not chastice and reproou•• themselues by themselues, are so many times tied vnto the Gibbet, as there are passions that draw them hither and thither, and are so ready to out-rage an o∣ther; I would belieue them, were their not some of them that from the gal∣lowes cursed and spit on those that beheld them.

CHAP. XX.

* 1.20THe Philosophers performe not what they speake, yet performe they very much, because they speake that which they haue con∣ceiued with an honest mind. For if their words and deedes were one, what were more blessed then they? In the meane space, thou hast no cause to despise good words, neither those hearts that are full of good thoughts. You ought to praise the faire and honest occupations of the minde, and the studie of good Sciences, although there follow no effect thereupon. What wonder is it if they that haue attempted high matters, at∣taine not to honour? Reuerence thou the hardie and difficult enterprises of Vertue, admire the men, although attempting great matters, they faile of their purpose. It is a generous thing, for a man that considereth not his owne, but natures forces; to attempt and vndertake high matters, and to con••••iue that in his thought which the most ablest men in the world cannot effect; who hath purposed and said this vnto himselfe; I will keepe the same countenance in beholding death, as I kept when I heard that shee approached mee. How great waight so euer shall be imposed on me, I will yeeld my shoulder, and my minde shall sustaine my body. I will make as small reckoning of those goods that I haue, as of those that I haue not, if they lie on the ground in another mans house, it shall not trouble me•• neither if they shine about me will I bee proude. I will neither respect the pr••sent prosperitie or future aduersitie; I wil looke vpon euery mans land as if it were mi•••• owne, and on mine as if it were all mens; I will so liue, as if I knew that I was borne for others, and for that will I giue thankes to nature that hath appropriated me to that vse. What could shee doe more for me? Shee hath giuen me onely vnto all men, and all men vn∣to me alone, what so euer I haue, I wil neither keepe it too niggardly, not spend it too prodigally. I will beleeue that I possesse nothing more, then that which is well giuen me. I will not esteeme any benefits by the number or waight, nor estemate them any other wayes, but in respect of him that receiueth them.

That shall neuer seeme too much to me, which a worthy man receiueth at my hands; I will doe all things, not for opinion but for conscience sake. I will be∣leeue it is done in the sight of all men, whatsoeuer I doe vnwittingly. The end of my eating and drinking shall be to satisfie the desires of nature, not to fill and emptie my belly. I will bee pleasing to my friends, gentle and facile to mine enemies. I will graunt before I be ••••ked, and will preuent all honest demandes. I will remember that the World is my Countrie•• that the gods who gouerne the World are aboue me, and stand about me as censors of my deedes and words. And as often as nature shall redemaund my Soule, or reason dismisse it I will depart this life with this testimonie, that I haue loued and laboured to haue a good conscience, and to bee exercised in laudable actions; that no mans libertie hath beene diminished by me, nor mine by any man.

CHAP. XXI.

WHosoeuer resolueth with himselfe to doe this,* 1.21 hee will assay he will walke towards the gods, and aspire vnto great things, al∣though he alwayes attaine them not. But you that hate Vertue and such as are vertuous doe nothing new. For sicke eyes are a∣fraide of the Sunne, and those creatures which see not clearely but by night, are astonished as soone as the bright some day appeareth, and re∣tire themselues to their lurking holes; In bri••fe, those creatures that feare the light, locke them vp in their retreates. Grieue and spend your wretched tongs in detracting good men; barke and bite at them, sooner shall you breake your teeth then lay hold or hurt them. But why liueth such a one, who saith hee is a friend of Wisedome so deliciously? Wherefore saith he should a man despise ritches and yet he hath them? Hee doth nought else but speake against the loue of this life, and yet he liueth. Why commendeth hee sicknesse, and yet so dili∣gently maintaineth and longeth for health? Banishment with him is but a word of no vse, and he saith that the change of a mans Countrie is no euill thing: Notwithstanding, if hee may make choice, hee endeth his dayes in the place where he was borne. He iudgeth that there is little difference betwixt a short and long life, yet if nothing let him he extendeth his age, and flourisheth in qui∣etnesse for many yeares. He saith that these things should be contemned, not in regard of the proprietie and possession, but in respect wee should not haue them with labour, hee will not driue them from him, but will follow them se∣curely when they flit away. In what store-house may Fortune better locke her riches then there, from whence she may fetch them, without complaint of him that keepeth them. Marcus Cato when hee praised Curius and Corancatus and that Age, wherein it was an offence worthy of censure, to haue some few plates of Siluer, was himselfe master of a million of Gold, farre lesse in respect of the treasure which Crassus had, yet farre more then Cato the Censor was Lord of. By farre more had he surpassed his great Grand-father, had they beene compa∣red together, then he was surpassed by Crassus; And if greater fortunes had be∣fallen him, he had not refused them. For a wiseman thinketh himselfe worthy of all those presents of fortune. Hee loueth not riches, and yet he preferreth them before pouertie, hee receiueth them into his house but not in his minde, neither treadeth them vnder foote in possessing them, but containeth them, and will haue an excellent subiect to exercise his vertue vpon.

CHAP. XXII.

* 1.22BVt who doubteth, but that a wise man hath a greater meanes to expresse the worthinesse of his minde, when he hath riches, then when he hath pouertie, whē as in pouertie there is but one vertue not to be deiected, not to be depressed. In riches a man may say that temperance, libertie•• diligence, disposition, and magnifi∣cence, haue a spacious field to shew themselues in.* 1.23 A wise man will not con∣temne himself, although he be of a low statu••e, yet could hee wish that he were higher. Though he be slender in body, and haue lost an eye, yet will he be content, yet had he rather that his body were strong enough. Hee will loue it so, when he shall know that there is some thing in him more strong and more vigorous; hee shall endure sicknesse and wish for health. For some things al∣though they be small in appearance, and such as may be taken from vs, without the ruine of the principall good, yet adde they something to perpetuall ioy which springeth from vertue. So doe riches affect and comfort him, as a faire and merrie wind doth a Sailer, as a faire day, or as a couert in cold weather and raine. But who is he say I, amongst our wise men, who account vertue for the only good, that denieth likewise that these which we call indifferent, haue some worth in them, and that some are to bee preferred before others. To some of these some honour is giuen, to some great. Doe not therefore deceiue thy selfe, riches are amongst those things that are to bee desired. Why then saiest thou, doest thou mocke me, when as they are as highly esteemed by thee as they are by me? Wilt thou know how differently they are affected? If riches slip out of my ••ands, they shall carrie nothing away with them but themselues; Thou wilt be astonished, and seeme vnto thy selfe to be left without thy selfe, if they depart from thee. Riches with me are in some request, with thee in high e∣steeme. In briefe, my riches serue me, Thou art a slaue to thine.

CHAP. XXIII.

* 1.24GIue ouer therefore to forbid Philosophers to haue money. No man hath condemned Wisedome to perpetuall pouertie. A wise man may haue great wealth, but taken from no man, nor bought with the effusion of other mens bloud, gotten without any mans preiudice, without vnlawfull gaine, whose departure shall be as honest as their entrie, whereat no man shall grieue except he be enuio••s. Vrge against them as much as thou pleasest, they are honest; in which, where as there are many things which euery man would haue called his, yet is their nothing that any man may say it is his. But the wise man will not estrange the bountie of Fortune from him selfe, neither will he glorie or be•• ashamed of that patri∣monie that he hath gotten with honestie; yet shall hee haue wherein to glorie, if his doores being open, and the Citie admitted to enter to examine his sub∣stance, he might say; Let euery man take that hence which he knoweth to bee his! O great man, happily rich, if his actions bee answerable to these speeches of his, if after this speech he haue so much; this I say, if sa••e and secure he hath submitted himselfe to the Cities search, if no man hath found ought in his house, that an other man may challenge, boldly and openly, hee shall bee

rich. Euen as a wise man admitteth no money into his house that is badly got, so will he not refuse nor exclude great riches, which are the gifts of fortune and th•• fruites of vertue. For what cause is there, why hee should enuie them a good place? Let them come and dwel with him; he will neither boast of them, nor hide them, the one is the signe of an insolent minde, the other of a fearefull and weake minde; as if containing a great good within his bosome. Neither as I said, will he cast them out of his house. For what will he say? Whether this, you are vnprofitable; or this, I know not how to vse riches? Euen as although he can walke his iourney on foote, yet he had rather get vp into his Coach, so if he may be rich he will, and he will entertaine riches yet as slight and transitorie things, neither will he suffer them to bee burthen some to any other, nor to himselfe. He will giue then, what hearken you now? Why open you your bo∣somes? he will giue, but either to good men, or to those whom hee may make good. He will giue, but with great deliberation, making choice of the worthiest as remembring himselfe, that hee is to giue an account both of his expences and receipts. He will giue vpon a iust and reasonable cause, for to giue ••uilly, is a shamefull losse. Hee will haue his bosome open, but not rent, out of which much money shall passe, but nothing shall be lost.

CHAP. XXIIII.

HE deceiueth himselfe,* 1.25 whosoeuer thinketh that it is an easie matter to giue; This thing hath great difficultie in it, if so bee it be giuen with iudgement, not scattered by aduenture or rashly. I gaine the heart of such a man, I restore vnto an other, I succour this man, I take pittie on that man; I furnish such a one, because hee deserueth to be warranted from pouertie, and to bee no more busi••d in seeking his fortune. To som•• I will not giue although hee want; because, although I should giue yet will he still be needie. To some will I offer, and other some will I presse to take, I cannot be negligent in this thing, I neuer oblige so many vnto my profit as when I giue. What saiest thou, dost thou giue to receiue againe? Yea, to the end I may not loose; yet must the gift that is giuen be in such hands whence it may not be redemaunded, it may be restored. Let a benefit bee be∣stowed like a treasure that is deepely hidden, which thou wilt not digge vp, ex∣cept thou hast neede of it. What? hath not a rich mans house abundant matter to doe good? For who would tie liberality only to Citizens and men of accompt? Nature commandeth vs to doe good vnto men, whether they be slaues or free-men, whether they be naturally bred, or by manumission freed of in just liber∣tie or giuen amongst friends. What is that to the matter? Wheresoeuer a man is, there is a place of benefit. The wise man likewise may spred his money in his owne house, and exercise liberalitie, which is not so called, because it is giuen to free-men, but because it proceedeth from a free minde. This liberalitie of a wise man, is neuer employed vpon filthy and vnworthy persons, neither is it euer so wearied•• but that as often as he findeth out a worthy receiuer, it floweth abundantly, you are not therfore to giue a sinister interpretation, to those things that are spoken honestly, manfully, and stoutly, by those that are louers of Wis∣dome. But consider this first of all•• that there is a difference betwixt him that is studious of wisdom, and him that is wise & hath gotten wisdome. He that hath

wisdome will say vnto thee, I speake iustly, yet am I entangled with many vices. You are not to require of mee a life that is euery way correspondent to my words, whereas I endeuour as much as I may to make and forme my selfe, and addresse my selfe according to an excellent patterne. If I proceede as well a•• I haue intended, require this of me, that my deedes may bee answerable to my wordes. But he that hath attained the fulnesse of wisdome, will deale other∣wise with thee, and will say. First of all thou art not to permit thy selfe to giue sentence of thy be••ters; for now already (which is the argument that I am in the right way) I haue gotten thus farre as to displease euill men. But to let thee know, that I enuy no mortall man, heare what I promise thee, and how much I estimate euery thing. I deny that riches are good, for if they were, they should make good men: but now since that which is found amongst euill men, cannot bee called good, I deny them this name, yet confesse I that they are to be had, that they are profitable, and bring great commodities.

CHAP. XXV.

* 1.26HEare therefore what the cause is, why I number them not amongst goods, and what thing I consider in them, more then you, since it is agreed betweene vs both that they are to be had. Put mee into a rich house; put mee there where I shall be ordinarily ser∣ued in siluer and golde; I will not bee proud for all this, which, although I haue by me, yet are they without me. Transferre mee to a wood∣den bridge, and driue mee amongst the beggers, I will not therefore despise my selfe, because I sit amongst them, who thrust out their ••and to haue an almes giuen them; for what is this to the matter, whether a crust of bread be wanting to him, who wants not the power to die? what then is it? I had ra∣ther haue that faire house then a bridge. Lodge me in a rich bed with delicate hangings, and goodly furniture, I will not suppose my selfe more happy, be∣cause I haue soft and silken couering vpon me, and because purple carpets are spred for my guests to sit vpon. I shall bee no whit more miserable, if my wea∣rie head rest it selfe vpon a locke of haye, or if I lie vpon a Circensian and bro∣ken pad, whence the straw breaketh forth, through the rotten and ragged lin∣nen. What therefore is it? I had rather show what my manner were in clean∣ly and decent apparrell, then with halfe couered or naked shoulders. Though all the dayes of my life should be pleasant, and that one honour should draw on others that are new, I would not be a whit prouder for all this. Change to the contrary this indulgence of time; let my mind bee wounded euery wayes with losses, sorrowes, and diuers incursions: Let not an hower slip without some complaint, yet will I not say, that I am wretched amongst the wretchedest; I will not therefore curse my day, for I haue already resolued with my selfe, that no day should seeme fatall vnto me. What therefore is it? I had rather tem∣perate my ioyes, then still my sorrowes. This will Socrates say vnto thee: Make mee the conquerour of all nations; let that delicate a••d triumphant Chariot of Bacchus carry me as farre as Thebes from the sunne-rise; Let the Persian Kings require lawes at my hands, then will I thinke my selfe most of all to bee a man when all the world shall salute me for a God. Ioyne to this sodaine greatnesse, a contrary change; Let them cast mee vpon a hurdle, to be led in show in the triumph of some proud and insolent enemy by reason of his victory, I will

march with such a countenance behind his Chariot, as I did when I was moun∣ted in mine. What therefore is it? I had rather ouercome then be taken. I will despise the whole Kingdome of Fortune, out of that if I may take my choice, I will chuse the best and most pleasing. What so euer befalleth me, I will repute it good, but I desire they should be easie and pleasant, and such as should least trouble me in the handling of them. For, thou must not thinke that there is any vertue without labour, but some vertues neede spurs, other some raines: Euen as the body that ascendeth a hie place ought to be kept backe, and he that ascendeth vpon should beare forward: so some vertues are as it were descen∣ding, some that are troublesome to mount. Is it to be doubted, but that pa∣tience, valour, and perseuerance, and other vertues opposed to afflictions, and tread fortune vnder foot, are such vertues as mount and aduance themselues with trauell, and outstrip many difficulties? What therefore? Is it not as ap∣parent, that liberty, temperance and clemency march downewards? In these wee containe our minde, lest it slip. In these wee encourage and incite: So then when there shall bee question of pouerty, wee will arme our selues with the strongest, best disposed, and such as know best how to fight: in the vse of riches, wee will call the other which will march leasurely, and sustaine the weight.

CHAP. XXVI.

THis being thus distinguished, I had rather haue the vse of those vertues,* 1.27 the exercise whereof is peaceable, then to assay those other that make a man sweat bloud and water. I therfore saith the Wise-man, liue not otherwise then I speake, but you heare otherwise then you should: onely the sound of words is come to your eares, but what they signifie you enquire not, what difference then is there betwixt mee a foole, and thee a wise man, if both of vs will haue wealth? Great: for riches are to the wise man as his slaues, to the foole as his comman∣ders. The wise man giueth not any authority to riches, but they master you wholly: you, as though some one had promised you an eternall possession of them, accustome your selues to them, and cleaue vnto them. The wise-man doth then most of all meditate vpon pouerty, when as hee is in the midst of his pouerty. Neuer doth an Emperour so trust to peace, that he prepareth not for warre, which hee reputeth to bee already proclaimed, although as yet they are not come to handy strokes. A faire house, as though it could neuer burne nor fall downe, maketh you insolent. Riches doe amase you, as if they were out of all danger, and were greater then that fortune had power enough to consume them. Idleing you enuy your riches, neither foresee you the danger of them. Wherein you behaue your selues like Barbarians besieged in a place, who set their armes a crosse, beholding those that besiege them trauelling after certaine engines, and know not what they be, neither vnderstand wherto men will make vse of these engines of battery, which are addressed farre off from the Wall. The same befalleth you, you rot in your goods, neither thinke you what ca∣sualties hang ouer your heads euery wayes, and that sodainly shall plucke from you the fairest and the richest spoiles. Whosoeuer shall take away a wise mans riches, shal leaue him that which is his, for he liueth being contented with those things that were present, and secure of the future. I haue neuer so much per∣swaded my selfe saith Socrates, or any other that hath the same right and pow∣er

ouer humane affaires, as to apply my manner of liuing to your opinions. Vse your accustomed habite euery way. I will not thinke them to bee the iniuries of men, but the cries of little children. Thus will hee speake that hath gotten and attained wisdome, whose mind beeing freede from all vice, will loath him to reprehend others, not because hee hateth them, but because hee would a∣mend them. To these will hee adde: Your reputation moueth me, not in mine owne respect, but for your cause: When I see you hate and harrow vertue, it is a forswearing of good hope. You doe me no more injurie, then they do the Gods, who ouerturn their altars; but your euill intent, and euill counsell appea∣reth euen there where it could not hurt. Thus beare I with your impertinen∣cies euen as almighty Iupiter doth the follies of the Poets; Wherof one of them giueth him wings, an other hornes, an other brought him forth as an adulterer; an other, as a night-watcher; an other, as cruell towards the Gods; an other, as vniust towards men; an other, as a rauisher, and corrupter of children of free condition and of good parentage; an other, for a parracide, and such a one as hath inuaded other mens dominions, yea, the kingdome of his owne father: all which was to no other end, but to take from men (who belieued that the Gods were such) all shame of doing euill. But although these things hurt mee nothing, yet doe I warne you for your owne sakes, and counsell you to embrace vertue. Belieue those that hauing long time followed her, cry out that they follow some great thing, and that one day or other, will shew it selfe more ex∣cellent, and honour her as the Gods, and reuerence those that serue her, as you would doe the professors and priests of the Gods: and as often as there is any mention made of the sacred letters, keepe your silence: for this word is not deriued from fauour,* 1.28 as diuers men suppose, but silence is commanded, that the sacrifice might be duely performed without any interruption.

CHAP. XXVII.

* 1.29WHich so much the rather ought to be enioyned you, that as often as any thing is vttered by that Oracle, with an intent and hum∣ble voice, you may heare the same. When some Apostatate Priest maketh a man belieue, that the sister of Apollo hath sounded, when any one wel lerned to carue the flesh frō his muskles, woun∣deth himselfe both in armes and shoulders with a sparing hand, when some wo∣man creeping vpon her knees along the wayes howleth, and an old man appar∣relled in linnen, carrying in his hands a lanterne and a candle at midday, crieth out that some one of the Gods are displeased; you flocke about him, and listen, and entertaining one anothers mutuall amase; you affirme, that he is some Pro∣phet. Behold Socrates crieth out from that prison, into which when he entred it, be clensed it, and made it more honest then any Court of plea. What mad∣nesse is this? What nature is this so opposite against Gods and men? to defame vertues, and to violate holy things with malignant speeches? If you can, praise good men, if not passe by them. But if you take pleasure to exercise this vnbri∣dled liberty, assaile one another: for when you are mad against heauen (I say not that you commit sacriledge) but you loose your labours. Sometimes I ministred matter to Aristophanes to breake his iests vpon me, and all that band of comicke Poets powred out their enuenomed scoffes against me: my vertue grew more famous by these very meanes, whereby they assayled her; for it be∣houeth

her to be produced and attempted; neither doe any men more vnder∣stand what she is, then they, who by prouoking her, haue tired her forces. The hardnesse of the flint stone is knowne to no men more then to those who strike vpon it: I present my selfe vnto you in such sort, as a rocke in midst of a tem∣pestuous sea, the which is on euery side, & incessantly beaten with the waues and yet notwithstanding continues in his place, and neyther by length of time, nor by the assaults of the same, is any wayes consumed. Enforce your selues against me, and leaue me at your pleasure, I will ouercome you with pa∣tience, whatsoeuer he be that attempteth those things that are firme and im∣pregnable, imployeth his forces to the ruine of himselfe. And therefore seeke out some more soft and yeelding matter, wherein you may fixe your weapons. But haue you so much leasure as to examine other mens faults, and to giue your censures of any man: Why this Philosopher hath so faire a house? why the other suppeth more daintily? you obserue pustules and little spots in other men, being your selues besieged with vlcers. It is as much as if you should carpe at some mens freckles and warts which should appeare in their fairest bo∣dies, and you your selues were ouergrowne with a loathsome scab. Obiect a∣gainst Plato, that he desired money; against Aristotle, that he receiued the same; against Democritus, that he neglected it; against the Epicure, that he spent it; ob∣iect against me Alcibiades and Phaedrus. O how happy should you be, when you could but counterfeit our vices? but why rather examine you not your owne vices which wound you on euery side; the one assayling you outward∣ly, the other burning in your bowels. The affaires of the world are not brought to that passe, although you are wholly ignorant of your estates, that you may haue so much leasure as to employ the rest of your time, and your tongues in detraction of good men.

CHAP. XXVIII.

THis vnderstand you not,* 1.30 and you carrie an other countenance then becommeth your fortune, euen as many men doe, who sitting in the Circus or Theater, and some one dead in their houses, and are wholly ignorant of that which hath happened. But I beholding from a hie place, see what tempests either hang ouer your heads, that will somewhat later breake from out their cloud, to such as are neere at hand, that shall rauish both you and yours away, as soone as they shall meete you. And why? see you not already likewise, although you haue little sence thereof, a certaine tempest that transporteth your minds, and hurleth you vp, flying and pursuing the same things, and rauisheth you now lifted vp on high, now battereth you against the ground.

The end of the Discourse touching a blessed life.

Notes

• * 1.1

  It sufficeth not to desire happi∣nesse, we ought to know what true happinesse is, and after∣wards by what m•••••••••••• we at∣tai••e thereunto.
• * 1.2

  He taxeth those who think them∣selues wel go••er∣ned if they ••ollow the multitude.
• * 1.3

  Since we seek for that good which is truly a••d not apparanth good, let vs not deriue our example, ey∣ther from the ••x∣terior ap••ear••ce or the publike ap∣plause.
• * 1.4

  The diuers d••∣finitions of a happie life.
• * 1.5

  He confuteth those that set their felicitie on pleasures of the bodie, and defineth what a happie man is.
• * 1.6

  An answer vnto these that would confound the pleasures of the bodie and the soule together.
• * 1.7

  A continuation of the former re∣futation where he sheweth that pleasure is in∣compatible with Vertue, and con∣sequētly i••, which is estranged from the chiefest good.
• * 1.8

  In continuing his refutation, he declareth what this maner of speech meaneth, that to liue hap∣pily, and accor∣ding to Nature, is one and the same thing.
• * 1.9

  The peace of Consc••ence is the chiefest good, but Seneca place••h this peace in the siedge of humane reas••n, which we must beare with all in a S••oicke and a Pagan, who knew not what the gift of regeneration was
• * 1.10

  That there is neither content nor ioy in the pleasures of this world, when they are neuer so litle separated from Vertue, which maketh vse of those pleasures with moderation
• * 1.11

  That the volup∣tuous person is not wise, and consequently is depriu••d of ver∣tue and hath no part in Blessed Life.
• * 1.12

  That the plea∣sures of wicked men are not tru∣ly pleasures but follies, and ••uries, contrariwise those of the wise are modest.
• * 1.13

  Why the prayse of pleasure is pernicious.
• * 1.14

  How a man will agree pleasure with Vertue.
• * 1.15

  Agains•• those that will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ve••tu•• with pleasure, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 together.
• * 1.16

  Hee concludeth, that a happie life consisteth in Vertue, and shew••th what counsailes this Vertue giueth, and what good shee bringeth.
• * 1.17

  Hauing so highly spoken of the soueraigne good and of a happie life, He taxeth those that flat∣ter vices.
• * 1.18

  That this re∣proach is not new, That a wiseman in con∣demning other mens vices be∣ginneth with his owne, and hath a desire to mend himselfe•• That we ought patiētly to endure scoffes because the best men haue not es∣caped them.
• * 1.19

  A paradox of the Stoickies, who prayse those that murther themselues. The iniquitie of those men that accuse others and yet amend not themselues.
• * 1.20

  That a man hath purchased much that he h••th got∣ten himsel••e good thoughts, al∣tho••h the ef••ects follow not al∣waies.
• * 1.21

  That good thoughts are the beginnings, and the high waies to good workes.
• * 1.22

  Why a vertuous and good man despiseth not ri∣che••, and to what vse they serue him.
• * 1.23

  In this place there is a noble discou••se of the vse of riches.
• * 1.24

  That riches a•• honest, both in regard of the getting of them, as in respect of the possession and vse of them.
• * 1.25

  Of the vs•• of Goods in regard of the diuers re∣lief of our neigh∣bours, and how we ought to giue.
• * 1.26

  Although a wise man possesseth ••iches, he accoū∣teth them not for true goods, and why he had rather haue them, then haue them not.
• * 1.27

  What difference there is betwixt a foole and a wise man, When as both would be rich.
• * 1.28

  Fauete linguis non •• fauore.
• * 1.29

  By reason of si∣lence whereof he entreateth, hee sheweth by an ••xpr••sse c••mpa∣rison, that th••re are not any peo∣ple in t••e world more carefully to be listned vn∣to then wisem••n, and t••ey that are v••••tuous, & thereu••on hee in••roduceth So∣crates as the most exc••ll••nt who magni∣••ieth vertue, and sheweth that happy life consi∣s••eth in the same.
• * 1.30

  The continuati∣on of a wise mās discourse in the person of So∣crates.