The arte of rhetorique for the vse of all suche as are studious of eloquence, sette forth in English, by Thomas Wilson.

¶An example of comforte.

THough myne enterprise maie be thought fo∣lishe, and my doynges very slender in busiyng my braine to teache the expert, to gyue coun∣sel to other when I lacke it my self, and wher¦as more neede were for me to be taught of o∣ther, to take vpon me to teache my betters, yet dutie byn∣dyng me to doe my beste, and emong a nomber though I can doe leaste, yet good will settyng me forthe with the fore∣mest: I cannot chouse but write what I am able, and speake what I can possible for the better comfortyng of your grace in this your great heauines, and sore visitacion sent from GOD, as a warnyng to vs all. The Phisician then de∣serueth moste thanke, when he practiseth his knowlege in tyme of necessitie, and then traueileth moste painefullie, when he feeleth his paciente to be in moste daunger. The souldiour at that tyme, and at no tyme so muche is thought most trustie, when he showeth at a nede his faithfull harte, and in tyme of extreme daunger doeth vse, and bestowe his moste earnest labour. In the wealthe of this worlde what valiaunt man can wante assistence? What mightie Prince can misse any helpe to compasse his desire? who lac∣keth men that lacketh no monie? But when God striketh the mightie with his strong hand, and displaceth those that

were hyghelye placed, what one manne dothe once looke backe for the better ••asemente of his deare Brother, and Godlye comfortynge his euen. Christian, in the chiefe of all his sorowe. All menne communelye more reioyce in the Sunne risynge, then they doe in the Sunne set••inge. The hope of Lucre and expectation of priuate gayne, maketh manye one to bear oute a countenaunce of fauoure, whose herte is inwardelye fretted wyth deadlye rancoure. But suche Frendes, euen as prosperi••ye do••he gette theim, so aduersitye dothe trye theim. God is the searcher of euery mannes thought, vnto whose iudgemente I referre the as∣suraunce of my good wyll.

And thoughe I can do little, and therfore deserue as lit∣tle thancke, as I loke for prayse (whyche is none at all) yet will I endeuoure earnestlye at all tymes, as well for mine owne discharge, to declare my duty, as at this present to say somewhat for the better easemente of youre grace, in thys your heauines. The passions* 1.1 of the mynde haue diuers ef∣fectes, and the••fore worke straungelye, accordynge to theyr properties▪ For like as ioye comforteth the harte, nourisheth bloude, and quickeneth the whole bodye: so heauinesse and care hinder digestion, engender euyll humoures, waste the principall partes, and wyth tune consume the whole bodye. For the better knowledge hereof, and for a liu••lye syght of the same, wee neade not to seeke farre for a••ye exampl••, but euen to come strayghte vnto youre grace, whose bodye as I vnderstande crediblye, and partelye see my selfe, is soore ap∣payred within shorte tyme, your mynde so troubled, & youre harte so heauye, that you hate in a maner all lyght, you lyke not the sighte of anye thynge that myght be your comforte, but altogether stricken in a dumpe, you seke to be solitarye, detestinge all ioye, and delitynge in sorowe, wishynge wyth harte (if it w••••e Goddes will) to make youre last ende. In whyche youre heauinesse, as I desire to be a comfortoure of youre grace, so I can no•• blame your naturall sorowe, if that nowe after declaration of the same, you woulde mo∣derate all youre griefe hereafter, and call backe your pensife¦nes, to the prescripte order of reason.

And firste, for the better remedye of euerye disease, and troubled passion, it is beste to knowe the principall cause, and chiefe occasion of the same. Youre grace hadde two sonnes, howe noble, howe wittye, howe learned, and how Godlye, manye thousandes better knowe it, then anye one is able well to ••ell it. God at his pleasure hath taken them bothe to his mercy, and placed them with him, which were surelye ouer good to tarye here with vs. They bothe di∣ed as your grace knoweth verye younge, whiche by course of Nature, and by mannes estimation, mighte haue liued muche longer. They bothe were together in one house, lodged in two seuerall chambers, and almoste at one time bothe sickened, and both departed. They died bothe dukes, bothe well learned, bothe wise, and bothe right Godlye. They bothe before gaue straunge tokens of death to come. The elder sittinge at Supper, and verye merye, saide sou∣dainlye to that ryghte honeste Matroue, and Godly aged gentilwoman, that most faythful & longe assured seruaunt of yours, whose life God graunte longe to continue: Oh Lorde, where shall we suppe tomorowe at night, whereu∣pon she beinge troubled, and yet saiynge comfortablye, I truste my lorde, either here, or elles where at some of your frendes houses: Naye (quod he) we shall nauer suppe toge∣ther againe in this worlde, be you well assured, and with that seinge the gentilwoman discomforted, turned it vnto mirthe, and passed the reste of his Supper with much ioye, and the same night after .xij. of the clocke, beynge the .xiiij. of Iulye sickened, and so was taken the nexte morning a∣boute .vij. of the clocke, to the mercye of God, in the yeare of our Lorde .M.D.Li. When the elder was gone, the younger woulde not tarye, but tolde before (hauinge no knowledge therof by anye bodye liuinge) of his brothers Deathe, to the greate wonderinge of all that were there, declaringe what it was to lose so deare a frende, but com∣fortinge him selfe in that passion, saide: well, my brother is gone, but it maketh no matter, for I will go straight af∣ter him, and so did within the space of halfe and houre, as your grace can best tell, whiche was there presente. Nowe

I renue these wordes to youre graces knowledge, that you might the more stedfastlie consider their time to be then ap∣pointed of GOD to forsake this euill worlde, and to liue with Abraham, Isaac, and Iacob, in the Kingedome of heauen. But wherfore did God take two suche awaye, and at that time? Surelye to tell the principall cause,* 1.2 we maye by all likenes affirme, that they were taken awaye from vs for our wretched sinnes, and mooste vile naughtines of life, that therby we beinge warned, might be as readie for God, as they nowe presentlie were, aud amend our liues in time, whom God will call, what time we knowe not. Then as I can see, we haue small cause to lament the lacke of them, whiche are in suche blessed state, but rather to amende our owne liuinge, to forthinke vs of oure offences, and to wishe of GOD to purge oure hartes, from all filthines and vn∣godlie dealinge, that we maie be (as they nowe be) blessed with God for euer. Notwithstandinge the worckes of God are vns••archeable, without the compasse of mannes braine preciselye to comprehende the verie cause, sauinge that this perswasion oughte surelye to be grounded in vs, euermore to thinke that God is offended with sinne, and that he pu∣nisheth offences to the thirde and fourthe generation of all them that breake his commaundementes, beinge iuste in all his worckes, and doinge all thinges for the beste. And ther∣fore when God plagueth in suche sorte. I would with that our faithe might a••waies be staied vpon the admiration of Goddes glorie, througheoute all his doinges, in whom is none euil, neither yet was there euer any guile found. And I doubt not but your grace is thus affected, and vnfayned∣lye confessinge your owne offences, taketh this scourge to come from God as a iuste punishmen••e of Sinne, for the a∣mendemente not onelye of your owne selfe, but also for the amendemente of all other in generall. The lamentable voyce of the pore (whiche is the mouthe of God) through∣out the whole Realme declares full well the wickednes of this life, and showes plainelye that this euill is more gene∣rallye felte, the•• anye man is able by worde, or by wri••inge at full to set forthe.

When God therfore that is Lord, not onelye of the riche but also of the poore, seeth his grounde spoyled frome the holesome profite of manye, to the vayne pleasure of a fewe, and the earthe made priuate to suffise the lus••e of vnsacia∣ble couetousnesse, and that those whiche be his true mem∣bres cannot liue for the intollerable oppression, the soore enhaunsynge, and the moost wicked grasing of those thro∣ughout the whole Realme, whiche otherwise myght well lyue with the onelye value and summe of their landes and yerelye reuenues: he striketh in his anger the innocentes and tēder yonglinges, to plague vs with the lacke of them, whose innocencye and Godlines of life mighte haue bene a iuste example for vs to amende our mooste euill doynges.

In whiche wonderfull worcke of God, when he receiued these two mooste noble ympes, and his chyldren elected to the euerlastinge Kingedome, I can not but magnifye his mooste glorious name, from time to tyme, that hath so gra∣ciouslye preserued these two worthy gentilmenne from the daunger of further euil, and moost vile wretchednes, moost like righte shortelye to ensue, excepte wee all repente, and forthincke vs of oure former euill liuynge. And yet I spea∣ke not this, as thoughe I knewe anye cryme to be more in you, then in anye other: but I tell it to the shame of all those vniuersallye within this Realme, that are gyltye of suche offences, whose inward consciences condem••ne their owne doinges, and their open d••edes beare witnes against their euil nature. For it is not one house that shal feele the fall of these two prynces, neither hath God taken them for one priuate personnes offence: but for the wickednes of the whole Realme, whyche is lyke to feele the smarte, excepte God be merciful vnto vs. But now tha•• they be gone, tho∣ughe the fleshe be frayle, weake, & tender, and muste neades smart, being woūded or cut: yet I doubt not but your grace lackinge two suche porcions of your owne fleshe, and ha∣uinge theim (as a manne woulde saye) cutte awaye frome youre owne bodye,* 1.3 will suffer the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with a good sto∣make, and remembre that sorowe is but an euil remedye to heale a sore. For if your hande were detrenched, or youre

bodie maimed with some soubdaine stroake, what profite were it for you to wepe vpon your wounde, and when the harme is done, to lamente still the sore? seinge that with wepinge it wil not be lesse, and maye yet throughe weping full sone be made more. For the sore is encreased, when so∣rowe is added, and the paine is made double, whiche before was but single. A constante christian shoulde beare all mi∣serie, and with pacience abide the force of necessitie, shew∣inge with sufferaunce the strengthe of his faithe, and espe∣ciallie when the chaunge is from euyll to good, from woe to weale, what folye is it to so••owe that, for the whiche they ioye that are departed? They haue taken nowe their rest, that liued here in trauaile: they haue forsaken their bo∣dies, wherin they were bounde, to receiue the spirite, wher∣by they are free. They haue chosen for sickenes, healthe: for earth, heauen: for life transitorie, life immortall: and for manne, God: then the whiche, what can they haue more? Or howe is it possible they can better? Undoubtedly if euer they were happye, they are nowe moste happie: if ••∣uer they were well, they are nowe in beste case, beynge de∣liuered frome this presente euyll worlde, aud exempted from Sathan, to lyue for euer with Christe our Sauioure.

Then what meane we that not onelye lamente the want of other, but also desire to tarye here oure selues, hopinge for a shorte, vayne, and therewith a paynefull pleasure, and refusynge to enioye that continuall, perfecte, and heauen∣lye enheritaunce, the whiche so soone that happen vnto vs, as Nature dissolueth this Earthlye bodye. Truthe it is wee are more fleshelye then spirituall, soner fealynge the ache of our bodye, then the griefe of oure Soule: more stu∣dious with care to be healthfull in carkasse, then sekynge with prayer to be pure in Spirite. And therfore if oure frendes be stayned with Synne, wee dooe not, or we wyll not espye their sore, we counte theim faulteles, when they are mooste wicked: neither sekinge the redresse of their e∣uyll doynge, nor yet once amendynge the faultes of oure owne liuyuge.

But when oure frende departeth this worlde, and then forsaketh vs when Synne forsaketh him: wee begynne to shewe ouce fleshelye natures, w•• wepe, and we wayle, and with louge sorowe withoute discretion declare our wante of Goddes grace, and all goodnes.* 1.4 For wheras we see that as some be borne, some do dye also, m••nne, women, and chil∣dren, and not one houre certaine to vs of all oure life, yet we neuer mourne, we neuer w••epe, neither markyuge the deathe of suche as we knowe, nor regardynge the euyll lyfe of those whom we loue. But when suche departe as were either nigheste of oure ky••red, or elles mooste oure frendes, then wee lamente withoute all comforte, not the synnes of their Soules, but the chaunge of their bodyes, leauinge to doe that whiche we shoulde, and doynge that onelye why∣che we shoulde not do at all. Wherin not onelye we declare muche wante of Faythe, but also we shewe greate lacke of wytte. For as the other are gone before, either to heauen or elles to hell: so shall oure fre••des and kin••folke folowe af∣ter. We are all made of one metall, and ordeyned to dye, so manye as liue.* 1.5 Therfore what folye is it in vs, or rather what fleshelye madnesse immoderatelye to wayle their death whom God hathe ordeyned to make their ende, excepte wee lamente the lacke of oure owne liuinge? For euen as well we myghte at theyr firste byrthe bewayle theyr Natiuitye, consideryng they must nedes dye, because they are borne to lyue. And whatsoeuer hath a beginnynge, the same hath al∣so an endynge, and the ende is not at oure will whiche de∣sire continuaunce of life, but at hys wyll whyche gaue the begynnynge of lyfe. Nowe then, s••ynge God hath ordeyned all ••o dye, accordynge to his appointed wil, what meane they that woulde haue theirs to lyue? Shall God alter his fyrst purpose for the onelye satisfiynge of oure folyshe pleasure? And where God hathe mynded that the whole worlde shall decaye, shall anye man desyre that anye one house may stand? In my mynde, there can be no greater comforte to anye one liuynge for the lacke of his frende, then to thinke that thys happened to him, whyche all other eyther haue felte, or elles shall feele hereafter: And that God the rather made Deathe

commune to all, that the vniuersall plague and egalnes to all, myght abate the fierce••es of deathe, and comfore vs in the crueltie of the same, considerynge no one man hath an ende, but that all shall haue the lyke, and dye we muste e∣uerye mothers sonne of vs, at one time or other. But you will saye: my chyldren might haue liued longer, they dyed younge. Sure it is by mannes estimation they myght haue liued longer, but had it bene best for them thincke you to haue continued styll in this wretched worlde, where Uyce beareth rule, and Uertue is subdued, where GOD is neglected, his lawes not obserued, his worde abused, and his Prophetes that preache the iudgemente of God almost euery where contemned.* 1.6 If your children were aliue, & by thaduice of some wicked person were brought to a brothell house, where entisinge harlottes liued, and so were in daū∣ger to commit that fowle sinne of whoredome, and so, ledde from one wickednes to another: I am assured your grace woulde call them backe with laboure, and would with ex∣hortations induce theim to the feare of God, and vtter de∣testation of al synne, as you haue ful often heretofore done, rather fearing euil to come, then knowing any open faulte to be in either of them. Nowe then, seynge God hath done the same for you him selfe, that you woulde haue do••e for them if they hadde liued, that is, in deliuerynge them bothe from this present euil worlde, whiche I counte none other then a brothel house, and a life of al noughtines: you ought to thanke God highlye, that he hath taken awaye your two sonnes, euen in their youthe, beynge innocentes bothe for their liuynge, and of such expectation for their towardnes, that almoste it were not possible for them hereafter o satis∣fye the hope in their age, whyche all menne presently hadde conceyued of their youthe. It is thought, and in dede it is no lesse thē a great poynct of happines to dye happely.* 1.7 Now when coulde youre two noble gentilmen haue dyed better then when they were at the best, mooste Godlye in manye thynges, offendinge in fewe, beloued of the ho••este, aud ha∣ted of none, (if euer they were hated) but of suche as hate the best. As in deede, noble vertue neuer wan••ed cankarde

enuy to folow her. And considering that this life is so wret∣ched, that the beste are euer most hated, & the vilest alwayes most estemed, and your .ii. sonnes of the other side beynge in that state of honestie, & trained in that pathe of Godlines (as I am able to b•• a liuely witnes, none hath ben like these ma¦ny yeres, or at the lest, none better brought vp) what thinke you of god, did he enuye them, or els did he prouidently for∣see vnto them bothe, when he toke them bothe from vs. As∣suredly whom god loueth best, those he taketh sonest, accor∣dinge to the saiyng of Salomon:* 1.8 The righteous man (mea∣ninge Enoch and other the chosen of God) is sodainely ta∣ken away, to the entente that wickednes shoulde not alter his vnderstandinge, and that hypocrisie should not begile his soul. For the craftie bewitching of lies, make good thin¦ges darke, the vnstedfastnes also and wickednes of volup∣tuouse desire, turne aside the vnderstanding of the simple. And thoughe the righteous was sone gone, yet fulfilled he much time, for his soule pleased God, and therfore hasted he to take him away from amonge the wicked. Yea, the good men of god in al ages, haue euer had an earnest desire to be dissolued.* 1.9 My soule (quod Dauid) hath an earnest desire to enter into the courtes of the lord. Yea, like as the herte de∣sireth the water brookes,* 1.10 so longeth my soule after the O God. My soule is a thyrst for God: yea, euen for the liuing God, when shall I come to appeare before the presence of God? Paule and al the Apostles wished and longed for the daye of the Lord, and thought euery daye a thousand yere, till their soules were parted from their bodies. Thē what should we waile them which are in that place where we al shuld wish to be, and seke so to liue, that we might be ready whē it shal please god of his goodnes to cal vs to his mercy Let vs be sicke for our owne sinnes, y^t liue here on earth, & reioyce in their most happy passa••e that are gone to heauē. They haue not left vs, but gone before vs to enherite with Christ, their kingdom prepared. And what shuld this greue your grace that they are gone before, cōsidering our whole lyfe is nothing els but the righte waye to death.* 1.11 Shoulde it trouble any one y^t his frend is come to his iournies end?

Our life is nothyng els, but a continuall trauaill, & death obtaineth rest after all our laboure.* 1.12 Emong men that tra∣uaill by the high waie, he is best at ease (in my mynde) that sonest cometh to his iourneis ende. Therfore, if your grace loued your children (as I am wel assured you did) you must reioyce in their rest, and geue God hartie thankes, that thei are come so sone to their iourneis ende. Marie, if it were so that man might escape the daunger of death, and liue euer, it were another matter: but because we must all dye, either first or last, and of nothyng so sure in this life, as we are all sure to dye at length, and nothyng more vncertain vnto mā then the certain tyme of euery mannes latter tyme: what forceth when wee dye, either this daie, or to morowe, either this yere,* 1.13 or the next, sauyng that I thinke them moste hap∣pie that die sonest, and death frendely to none so muche, as to theim whom she taketh sonest. At the tyme of an execuciō doen for greuous offences, what mattereth who dye firste, when a dosen are condempned together, by a lawe, conside∣ryng thei muste all dye one and other. I saie still, happie are thei, that are sonest ridde out of this worlde, and the soner gone, the soner blessed. The Thracians* 1.14 lament greatly at the birthe of their children, & reioyce muche at the burial of their bodies, beyng well assured that this world is nothyng els but miserie, & the worlde to come, ioye for euer.* 1.15 Now a∣gain, the child newe borne, partly declareth the state of this life, who beginneth his tyme with wailyng, & firste sheweth teares, before he can iudge the cause of his wo. If we beleue the promises of God, if we hope for the generall resurrecci∣on, and constantly affirme, that God is iust in all his woor∣kes: we cānot but ioyfully saie, with the iust man Iob:* 1.16 The lorde gaue them, the lorde hath taken them again, as it plea∣seth God, so maie it be, and blessed be the name of the lorde, for now and euer. God dealeth wrongfully with no man, but extendeth his mercie moste plentifully, ouer all mankynde. God gaue you twoo children, as the like I haue not knowen happie are you moste gracious ladie, that euer you bare thē. God lent you them twoo for a tyme, and toke them twoo a∣gain at his tyme, you haue no wrong doen you, that he hath

taken thē: but you haue receiued a wonderfull benefite, that euer you had thē.* 1.17 He is very vniust that boroweth, and wil not pay again, but at his pleasure. He forgetteth muche his duetie, that boroweth a iewell of the kynges maiestie, & will not restore it with good will, when it shall please his grace, to call for it. He is vnworthy hereafter to borowe, that will rather grudge, because he hath it no longer, then ones geue thankes, bicause he hath had the vse of it so long He is ouer coueteous, that compteth not gainfull, the tyme of his bo∣rowyng: but iudgeth it his losse, to restore thynges again. He is vnthankfull, that thynkes he hath wrong doen, when his pleasure is shortened, and takes the ende of his delite, to bee extreme euill. He loseth the greatest parte of his ioye in this worlde, that thynketh there is no pleasure, but of thynges present: that cānot comfort hymself with pleasure past, and iudge them to be moste assured, consideryng the me∣morie of them ones had, can neuer decaye. His ioyes be ouer straighte, that bee comprehended within the compasse of his sighte, and thynketh no thyng comfortable, but that whiche is euer before his iyes. All pleasure whiche man hath in this worlde, is very shorte, and sone goeth it awaie, the remem∣braunce lasteth euer, and is muche more assured, then is the presence or liuely sight of any thyng. And thus your grace maie euer reioyce, that you had twoo suche, whiche liued so verteously, and died so Godly: and though their bodies bee absent from your sight, yet the remembraunce of their ver∣tues, shall neuer decaye from your mynde. God lendeth life to all, and lendeth at his pleasure for a tyme. To this man he graunteth a long life, to this a shorte space, to some one, a daie, to some a yere, to some a moneth. Now whē God ta∣keth, what man should be offended, consideryng he that gaue frely, maie boldely take his awne when he will, and dooe no manne wrong. The Kynges Maiestie geueth one .x. pounde another fourtie pounde, another three skore pounde, shall he be greued, that receiued but tenne pound, and not rather geue thankes, that he receiued so muche? Is that man hap∣pier, that dieth in the latter ende of the monethe, then he is that died in the beginnyng of thesame Monethe? Doeth di∣stance

of tyme, and long tar••yng from God, make men more happie, when thei come to God? By space of passage we dif∣fer muche, and one liueth longer then another, but by death at the last, we all are matched, and none the happier, that li∣ueth the longer, but rather moste happie is he, that died the sonest, & departed best in the faithe of Christ. Thinke therfore your self most happie, that you had two suche, and geue God hartie thākes, that it pleased him so sone, to take two suche. Necessitie is lawles, and that whiche is by God appoyncted no man can alter. Reioyce we, or wepe we, die we shall, how sone, no man can tell. Yea, we are all our life tyme warned before, that death is at hande, and that when we go to bedde we are not assured to rise the nexte daie in the mornyng▪ no, not to liue one houre lōger. And yet to se our foly, we would assigne God his tyme, accordyng to our sacietie, and not cō∣tent our selfes with his doynges, according to his appoynct∣ment. And euer we saie, when any dye young, he might haue liued longer, it was pitie he died to sone. As though for sothe he were not better with God, then he can bee with manne. Therefore. whereas for a tyme your grace, muche bewailed their lacke, not onely absentyng your self from all company but also refusyng all kynde of comforte, almoste dedde with heauinesse, your body beyng so worne with sorowe, that the long continuance of thesame, is muche like to shorten your daies: I shall desire your grace for Goddes loue, to referre youre will to Goddes will, and whereas hetherto nature hath taught you to wepe the lacke of your naturall children lette reason teache you hereafter, to wipe awaie the teares, and lette not phantasie encrease that, whiche nature hath commaunded moderately to vse. To bee sory for the lacke of oure dearest, wee are taughte by nature, to bee ouercome with sorowe, it commeth of oure awne fonde opinion, and greate folie it is, with naturall sorowe, to encrease all so∣rowe, and with a litle sickenesse, to purchase readie deathe. The sorowes of brute beastes are sharpe,* 1.18 and yet thei are but shorte. The Cowe lackyng her Caulfe, leaueth Lowe∣yng within three or foure daies at the farthest. Birdes of the ayre perceiuyng their youngones taken from their neast,

chitter for a while in trees there aboute, and streighte after thei flie abrode, and make no more a dooe. The Doo lackyng her Faune, the Hynde her Caulfe, braie no long tyme after their losse, but seyng their lacke to be without remedy, thei ceasse their sorowe within short space. Man onely emong al other, ceaseth not to fauour his sorowe, and lamenteth not onely so muche as nature willeth him, but also so muche as his awne affeccion moueth hym. And yet all folke do not so but suche as are subiect to passions, and furthest from forti∣tude of mynde, as women commonly, rather then men, rude people, rather then godly folke: the vnlearned, soner then the learned: foolishe folke, soner then wise men: children, rather then yong men. Whereupon we maie well gather, that im∣moderate sorowe is not naturall,* 1.19 (for that whiche is natu∣rall, is euer like in al) but through folie mainteined, encrea∣sed by weakenesse, and for lacke of reason, made altogether intollerable. Then I doubte not but your grace, will ra∣ther ende your sorowe, by reason: then that sorowe should ende you, through foly: And whereas by nature, you are a weake woman in body, you will shewe your self by reason, a strong man in harte: rather endyng your grief by godly ad∣uertisementes, and by the iust consideracion of Gods won∣derfull doynges: then that tyme and space, should we are a∣waie your sorowes, whiche in deede suffer none continual∣ly to abide in any one, but rather ridde thē of life, or els ease them of grief.* 1.20 The foole, the vngodly, the weake harted haue this remedy, your medecine must be more heauenly, if you do (as you professe) referre all to Goddes pleasure, and saie in your praier. Thy will bee doen in yearth, as it is in heauen. Those whom God loueth, those he chasteneth, and happie is that body, whom God scourgeth, for his amendement.* 1.21 The man that dieth in the faithe of Christ is blessed, and the cha∣st••ned seruaunt, if he doo repent and amende his life, shalbe blessed. We knowe not what we doo••, when we bewaile the death of our dearest, for in death is altogether all happines, and before deathe,* 1.22 not one is happie. The miseries in this worlde declare, small felicitee to be in thesame. Therefore, many men beyng ouerwhelmed with muche woe, and wret∣ched

wickednes: haue wished and praied to God, for an ende of this life, and thought this worlde to be a let, to the heauē∣ly perfeccion, the whiche blisse all thei shall attain hereafter that hope well here, and with a liuely faith declare their as∣suraunce. Your graces two sonnes, in their life wer so god∣ly, that their death was their aduauntage: for, by death thei liued, because in life thei wer dedde. Thei died in faithe, not wearie of this worlde, nor wishyng for death, as ouerloden with synne: but paciently takyng the crosse, departed with ioye. At whose diyng, your grace maie learne an example of pacience, and of thankes geuyng, that God of his goodnesse, hath so graciously taken these your two children, to his fa∣uourable mercy. God punisheth, partly to trie your constā∣cie, wherein I wishe that your grace, maie nowe bee as well willyng to forsake theim, as euer you were willyng to haue them. But suche is the infirmitie of our fleshe, that we hate good comforte in wordes, when the cause of our comforte in deede (as we take it) is gone.* 1.23 And me thinkes I heare you cry notwithstādyng all my wordes, alacke my children are gone. But what though thei are gone? God hath called, & nature hath obeyed. Yea, you crie still my children are dedde: Marie therefore thei liued, and blessed is their ende, whose life was so godly. Wo worthe, thei are dedde, thei are dedde. It is no new thyng, thei are neither the first that died, nor yet the last that shall die. Many went before, and all shall folowe after. Thei liued together, thei loued together, and now thei made their ende bothe together. Alas thei died, that wer the fruicte of myne awne body, leauyng me comfortlesse, vnhappie wo∣man that I am. You do well, to cal thē the fruict of your bo∣dy, & yet you nothyng the more vnhappie neither. For, is the tree vnhappy, frō whiche the appelles fall?* 1.24 Or is the yearth accurssed, that bringeth furthe grene Grasse, whiche hereaf∣ter notwithstandyng doth wither. Death taketh no order of yeres, but when the tyme is appoyncted, be it earely or late, daie or nighte, awaie we muste. But I praie you, what losse hath your grace? Thei died, that should haue died, yea, thei died, that could liue no longer. But you wished theim lōger life. Yea, but God made you no suche promise, & mete it wer

not that he shuld be led by you, but you rather should be led by him. Your children died, & that right godly, what would you haue more? All good mothers desire, that their children maie die Goddes seruauntes, the whiche youre grace hath moste assuredly obteined. Now again mannes nature alte∣reth, and hardely tarieth vertue long in one place, without muche circumspeccion, & youth maie sone be corrupted. But you will saie. These were good and godly broughte vp, and therefore moste like to proue godly hereafter, if thei had li∣ued still. Well, thoughe suche thynges perhappes had not chaunced, yet suche thynges mighte haue chaunced, and al∣though thei happen not to al, yet do thei happe to many, and though thei had not chaunced to your children, yet we knew not that before, and more wisedome it had been, to feare the worst with good aduisement, then euer to hope, and loke stil for the best, without all mistrustyng. For, suche is the nature of mā, and his corrupt race, that euermore the one foloweth soner, then thother. Commodus* 1.25 was a verteous childe, and had good bringyng vp, and yet he died a moste wicked man. Nero* 1.26 wanted no good counsaill, and suche a master he had, as neuer any had the better, and yet what one aliue, was worse then he? But now death hath assured your grace, that you maie warrant your self, of their godly ende, whereas if God had spared them life, thynges might haue chaunced o∣therwise. In wishyng longer life, we wishe often tymes lō∣ger woe, longer trouble, longer foly in this world, and weye all thynges well, you shall perceiue wee haue small ioye to wishe longer life. This imaginacion of longer life, when the life standeth not by nomber of yeres, but by the appoyncted will of God, maketh our foly so muche to appere, & our tea∣res so continually to fall frō our chekes. For if we thought (as we should dooe in deede) that euery daie risyng, maie be the ende of euery man liuyng, and that there is no difference with God, betwixt one daie, and an hūdreth yeres: we might beare all sorowes, a greate deale the better. Therfore it wer moste wisedome for vs all, and a greate poynct of perfeccion to make euery daie an euen rekeuyng of our life, and talke so with God euery houre, that we maie bee of euen borde with

hym, through fulnes of faithe, and redy to go the next houre folowyng, at his commaundemente, and to take alwaies his sendyng in good part. The lorde is at hande. We knowe not when he will come (at mid night, at cocke crowe, or at noone daies) to take either vs, or any of ours. Therfore, the rather that we maie be armed, let vs folowe the examples of other godly men, and lay their doynges before our iyes. And emōg all other, I knowe none so mete for your graces comfort, as the wise and Godly behauiour of good Kyng Dauid.* 1.27 Who when he was enfourmed, that his sonne was sicke, praied to God hartly, for his amendement, wept, fasted, & with muche lamentacion, declared greate heauinesse. But when woorde came of his sonnes departure, he left his mournyng, he cal∣led for water, and willed meate to be set before hym, that he might eate. Wherupō, when his men marueiled why he did so, consideryng he toke it so greuously before, when his child was but sicke, and now beyng dedde, toke no thought at all, he made this answere vnto theim: so long as my child liued, I fasted, and watered my plantes for my young boye, and I saied to my self, who can ••ell, but that God perhappes will geue me hym, and that my child shall liue, but now seyng he is dedde, to what ende should I faste? Can I call hym again any more? Naye, I shall rather go vnto hym, he shall neuer come againe vnto me. And with that Dauid comforted his wife Bethsabe, the whiche example, as I truste your grace hath redde, for your comfort, so I hope you will also folowe it for youre healthe, and bee as strong in pacience, as euer Dauid was. The historie it self shall muche delighte youre grace, beeyng redde as it lieth in the Booke, better then my bare touchyng of it can dooe, a greate deale. The whiche I doubte not but your grace will often reade, and comforte o∣ther your self, as Dauid did his sorowfull wife. Iob* 1.28 losyng his children, and all that he had, forgatte not to praise God in his extreme pouertie. Tobias* 1.29 lackyng his iye sighte, in spirite prased GOD, and with open mouthe, confessed his holy name to bee magnified throughout the whole yearthe. Paule the Apostle of God, reproueth thē as worthy blame, whiche mourne and lament, the losse of their derest. I would

not brethren ({quod} he) that you should be ignorant,* 1.30 concernyng them whiche be fallen on slepe, that you sorowe not as other doo, whiche haue no hope. If we beleue that Iesus died, and rose again, euen so thei also, whiche slepe by Iesus, wil God bryng again with hym. Then your grace, either with lea∣uyng sorowe, must shewe your self faithfull, or els with yel∣dyng to your wo, declare your self to be without hope. But I trust your grace, beyng planted in Christ, will shew with sufferaunce, the fruicte of your faithe, and comforte your self with the wordes of Christ,* 1.31 I am the resurrecciō and the life he that beleueth on me, yea, though he wer dedde, yet should he liue, and whosoeuer liueth, and beleueth in me, shal neuer die. We read of those that had no knowlege of God, and yet thei bare in good worth, the discease of their children. Anaxo∣goras* 1.32 hearyng tell, that his sonne was dedde, no maruail {quod} he, I knowe well I begot a mortall body. Pericles* 1.33 chief ru∣ler of Athens, hearyng tell that his twoo sonnes, beyng of wonderfull towardnesse, within foure daies wer bothe ded, neuer greately chaunged countenaunce for the matter, that any one could perceiue, nor yet forbare to go abrode, but ac∣cordyng to his wōted custome, did his duetie in the counsail house, in debatyng matters of weighte, concernyng the state of the common peoples weale. But because your grace is a woman, I will shewe you an example of a noble woman, in whom appered wonderfull pacience. Cornelia,* 1.34 a worthy la∣die in Rome, beyng comforted for the losse of her twoo chil∣dren, Tiberius, and Caius Gracchus, bothe valiaunt ientle men, although bothe not the moste honest menne, whiche died not in their beddes, but violently were slain in Ciuill bat∣taill, their bodies liyng naked and vnburied, when one emō∣gest other saied: Oh vnhappie woman, that euer thou shoul∣dest se this daie. Naie {quod} she, I wil neuer thinke my self other¦wise, then moste happy, that euer I brought furthe these two Gracchions. If this noble lady, could thinke her self happie, beyng mother to these twoo valiaunt ientlemen, & yet both rebelles, and therefore iustly slain: Howe muche more maye youre grace, thynke youre self moste happie, that euer you broughte furthe twoo suche Brandons, not onely by natu∣ral

birth, but also by most godly education, in such sort that the lyke .ij. haue not been for their towardnes vniuersallie. Whose deathe the general voice of all men declares howe muche it was lamented. So that whereas you might euer haue feared some daungerouse ende, you are nowe assured that they both made a most godly ende, the whiche thyng is the ful perfection of a Christiā lyfe. I reade of one Bibulus* 1.35 that hearyng of his two children to dye both in one daie, la∣mented the lacke of them bothe for that one daye, and mour∣ned no more. And what coulde a man doe lesse than for two children to lament but one daie: and yet in my mynde he la∣mented enough and euē so muche as was reason for hym to do, whose doynges if all Christians woulde folowe, in my iudgement they shoulde not onely fulfill natures rule, but also please God highly. Horatius Puluillus* 1.36 beeyng highe Prieste at Rome when he was occupied about the dedica∣tyng of a Temple to their greate God Iuppiter in the Ca∣pitoly, holdyng a post in his hande, and hard as he was vt∣teryng the solempne wordes, that his sonne was dead, euen at thesame present: he did neither plucke his hande from the post lest he shoulde trouble suche a solempnitie, neither yet turned his countenaunce from that publique religiō to his priuate sorowe, least he should seeme rather to doe the office of a father, then the dutie of an highe minister. Paulus E∣milius* 1.37 after his moste noble victorie had of Kyng Perse, desired of God, that if after suche a triumphe there were a∣ny harme lyke to happen to the Romaines, the same might fal vpon his owne house. Whereupon when God had taken his two children from hym immediatly after, he thancked God for graūtyng him his bound. For in so doyng he was a meane that the people rather lamented Paulus Emilius lacke, thē that Paulus or any bewailed any misfortune that the Romains had. Examples be innumerable of those whiche vsed lyke moderation in subduyng their affections, as Zenophon, Quintus Martius,* 1.38 Iulius Cesar,* 1.39 Tiberius Cesar,* 1.40 Emperours bothe of Rome. But what seeke I for misfortunate men, (if any suche be misfortunate) seyng it is an harder matter and a greater peece of worke to finde out

happie men, Let vs loke round about euen at home, and we shal finde enowe subiect to this misfortune. for who liueth that hath not lost? Therfore I woulde wishe your grace e∣uen nowe to come in againe with God, and although he be angry, yet show you your self most obedient to his wil, cō∣sideryng he is Lorde ouer Kynges, Emperours, and ouer al that be bothe in heauen and in yearth, and spareth noone whom he listeth to take, and no doubt he wil take all at the last. His dart goeth daily, neither is any darte cast in vaine whiche is sent amongest a whole armie standyng thicke to∣gether. Neither can you iustly lament that they lyued no longer, for they lyued long enough, that haue liued well e∣nough. You muste measure your children by their vertues, not by their yeres.* 1.41 For (as the wise man saith) a mans wise∣dom is the grey heeres, and an vndefiled life, is the old age. Happie is that mother that hath had Godly children, and not she that hath had long lyuyng children. For if felicitie should stande by length of tyme, some tree* 1.42 were more happy then is any man, for it liueth longer, and so likewyse brute beastes, as the Stagge,* 1.43 who liueth (as Plinius dothe say) two hundreth yeares, and more. If we woulde but consider what man is, we shoulde haue small hope to lyue, and litle cause to put any great assuraunce in this lyfe.* 1.44 Let vs se him what he is: Is his body any thyng els but a lumpe of earth made together in suche forme as we do see? A frail vessell, a weake carion, subiect to miserie, cast doune with euery light disease, a man to daie, to morowe none. A flower that this daie is freshe, to morowe withereth. Good Lorde do we not see that euen those thynges whiche nourishe vs, doe rotte & dye, as herbes, birdes, beastes, water, and al other without the whiche we cannot lyue. And how can we lyue euer, that are susteined by dead thinges? Therfore when any one doth dye, why do we not thynke, that this may chaunse to euery one, whiche now hath chaunsed to any one. We be now as those that stande in battail raie. Not one man is suer of him selfe before an other, but al are in daunger in lyke maner to death▪ That your children died before other that were of ri∣••er yeares, we may iudge that their ripenes for vertue and

all other giftes of nature were brought euen to perfection, wherby dea••h th•• soner approched for nothyng long lasteth that is sone excellent. God gaue your grace two most excel∣lent childrē,* 1.45 God neuer geueth for any long tyme those that be right excellent. Their natures were heauenly, and ther∣fore more meete for God then man. Emong frute we se some appels are sone ripe and fal from the tree in the middest of summer•• other be stil greene, & tary til winter, & hereupō are cōmonly called wynter frute: Euen so it is with me••, some dye young, some dye old, & some die in their midle age. Your sunnes wer euen .ij. suche already, as some hereafter may be with long cōtinuance of tyme. Thei had that in their youth for the giftes of nature, whiche al men would require of thē bothe scacelie in their age. Therfore beeyng both now ripe, they were now most ready for God. There was a childe in Rome of a mans quantite, for face, legges & o•• her partes of his body, wherupon wise men iudged he would not be long liuyng. How could your grace thynke, that when you sawe auncient wisdō in the one, & most pregnant wit in the other meruailouse sobriete in the elder, & most laudable gentlines in the younger, them bothe most studious in learnyng, most forward in al feates aswel of the body, as of the mind, beyng two suche, & so excellent, that they were lyke long to conti∣nue with you? God neuer suffreth such excellēt & rare iew∣els long to enherite therth. Whatsoeuer is nie perfectiō the same is most nigh falling. Uertue being o••s absolute cānot long be seen with these our fleshly iyes, neither can that ca∣ry the latter end with other, that was ripe it self first of al & before other. Fier goth out the soner, the clearer that it bur∣neth: & that light lasteth longest, that is made of most course matter. In greene wood we may see that where as the fuel is not most apt for burning, yet the fier lasteth lōger, than if it were nourished with like quantitie of drie wood. Euē so in the nature of man the mynde beeyng ripe, the body decai∣yeth streight, and life goeth away beeyng ones brought to perfection. Neither can there be any greater token of shorte lyfe, than full ripenes of naturall witte: The whiche is to the bodie, as the heate of the Sunne is to thynges yearthly.

Therfore iudge right honourable ladie, that euen now they both died, when they both wer most readie for God, neither thinke that thei died ouer soone, because thei liued no lōger. They died both Gods seruauntes, & therfore they died wel and in good tyme. God hath set their tyme, and taken them at his tyme blessed children as they be, to reigne with hym in the kyngdom of his father prepared for them from the be∣ginnyng. Unto whose wil, I wishe and I truste your grace doth wholy referre your wil, thankyng hym as hartely for that he hath taken them, as you euer thanked hym, for that he euer lent you them. I knowe the wicked wordes of some vngodly folke haue muche disquie••ed your grace, notwith∣standyng God beyng iudge of your naturall loue towardes your children, and al your faithful frendes, and seruauntes bearyng earnest witnes with your grace of the same: there vngodly talke the more lightely is to bee estemed, the more vngodly that it is. Nay your grace may reioyce rather, that whereas you haue doen well, you heare euill, accordyng to the wordes of Christe:* 1.46 Blessed are you, when men speake al euil thynges against you. And again consider GOD is not ledde by the reporte of men to iudge his creatures, but per∣swaded by y^e true knowlege of euery mans conscience, to take them for his seruauntes, & furthermore the harme is theirs whiche speake so lewdlie, and the blesse theirs whiche beare it so paciētly. For loke what measure thei vse to other, with the same they shalbe measured againe. And as they iudge so shal they be iudged. Be your grace therfore strong in aduer∣sitie, and pray for them that speake amisse of you, rendryng Gode for euil,* 1.47 and with charitable dealyng showe your self long suffryng, so shal you heape cooles on their heades. The boisterouse Sea trieth the good mariner, and sharpe vexatiō declareth the true Christian. Where battaill hath not been before, there neuer was any victorie obteined. Yow then be∣yng thus assailed, show your self rather stowte to withstād, than weake, to geue ouer: rather cleauyng to good, than yel∣dyng to euil. For if God be with you, what forceth who bee against you. For when al frendes faile, GOD neuer faileth them that put their trust in him, and with an vnfained hart

cal to hym for grace. Thus doyng I assure your grace, God wilbe pleased, and the Godly wil muche praise your wisdō, though the worlde ful wickedly saie their pleasure. I praie God your grace may please the Godlie, and with your ver∣tuouse behauiour in this your wydohode, winne there com∣mendation to the glory of God, the reioysyng of your fren∣des, and the comforte of your soule. Amen.

Thus, the rather to make pre••eptes plaine, I haue added examples at large both for counsel geuyng, & for com∣fortyng. And most nedeful it were in suche kynd of Oraciōs to be most occupied, considering the vse hereof appereth full ofte in al partes of our life, and confusedly is vsed emong al other matters. For in praisyng a worthie man, we shal haue iust cause to speake of all his vertues, of thynges profitable in this lyfe, and of pleasures in generall. Lykewyse in tra∣uersyng a cause before a iudge, we cannot wante the aide of persuasion, and good counsel, concernyng wealth, health, life and estimacion, the helpe wherof is partely borowed of this place. But whereas I haue sette forthe at large the places of confirmacion concernyng counsel in diuerse causes: it is not thought that either they should al be vsed in numbre as they are, or in ordre as they stande: but that any one may vse theim and ordre theim as he shall thynke best, accordyng as the tyme, place, and person, shal most of al require.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Passions wo∣••ke diuerslye
• * 1.2

  The cause why God ta∣keth awa•• the moste worth••∣est.
• * 1.3

  Vvhe•• necessi¦tie ruleth, so∣row is nedeles••
• * 1.4

  The folye of such as sorow the want of the••e frendes.
• * 1.5

  Deathe com∣mune to all.
• * 1.6

  Euil, to liue emonge the euil.
• * 1.7

  To dye hap∣pelye is great happines.
• * 1.8

  Vvisd. iiii.
• * 1.9

  Psal. lxxxiiii.
• * 1.10

  Psal. xlii.
• * 1.11

  Life, the right way to death.
• * 1.12

  Death purcha∣seth re••t.
• * 1.13

  Death more frendly, the so¦ner it cometh.
• * 1.14

  Thracians.
• * 1.15

  Children by wepyng, de∣clare out 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.16

  Iob.
• * 1.17

  Lent goodes, muste be resto∣red at the aw∣ne••s will.
• * 1.18

  The nature of brute beastes.
• * 1.19

  Immoderate sorowe, not naturall.
• * 1.20

  Tyme, a reme∣die for fooles, to take awaie their sorowe.
• * 1.21

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.22

  The great mi∣serie of this worlde, makes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of life
• * 1.23

  Impacience without com¦forte.
• * 1.24

  Trees, not ac∣cursed, because Apples fall from cheins.
• * 1.25

  Commodus
• * 1.26

  Nero.
• * 1.27

  Dauid .ii. Regu•••••• .xii.
• * 1.28

  Iob.
• * 1.29

  Tobias.
• * 1.30

  ••. Thessa .iiii.
• * 1.31

  〈…〉〈…〉
• * 1.32

  Anaxogoras.
• * 1.33

  Pericles.
• * 1.34

  Cornelia.
• * 1.35

  Bibulus.
• * 1.36

  Horatius Puluillus.
• * 1.37

  Paulus Emi∣lius.
• * 1.38

  Quintus ••••••¦tius.
• * 1.39

  Iulius Cesar.
• * 1.40

  Tyberius Ce∣sar.
• * 1.41

  Sap .iiii.
• * 1.42

  Trees lyue lō∣ger then men.
• * 1.43

  The Stagge how long he liueth.
• * 1.44

  Man, what he is, concernyng his body.
• * 1.45

  Rype thynges last not long.
• * 1.46

  Math. v.
• * 1.47

  Paci••̄ce praise worthie in ad∣uersitie.